"Dead Men Tell No Tales."

[Jace O'Brien]

"DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES"

Vendetta is said and done. Jace O'Brien stood backstage, the police that surrounded him during the questioning process had dissipated. Georgia DeLise had been loaded into the nearby ambulance and was in the process of being taken away. This leaves the Bay Area champion all alone. Defeated. 

Not only did he fail to make a statement in his first match since winning the championship, but he also failed at protecting the person he was meant to. All he needed was to shower the disappointment away after his loss. But. Bad timing on his part. He stood silent, motionless as the ambulance began to drive away. He would meet her there later.

We follow the "Welsh Warlord" from his current position, through the hallway that led to the parking lot. Once outside, surrounded by the night air of San Francisco, he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, placing one between hips lips and lighting it. He then walked across the lot to his beater car. Climbing into the driver's seat, he leaned the seat back a little, lounging as he took a drag from his cigarette.

"Fuckin' dames." he said before exhaling a cloud of smoke. "Twit and Tart may be the main focus of Georgia, but mean nothing to me. But my job details are as follows; protect Georgia DeLise. So with that in the back of my mind, I lost focus. I can't lose focus. I should have put down Archer before he even got started."

Another drag after he spoke. He wasn't speaking to anyone directly, just aloud. He was justifying and explaining his loss, as if that would change things. He knew it wouldn't, but he knew it would help put him in the mindset he had to be in.

The Bay Area Butcher had a new slab of meat to carve up.

He went by the name of Aaros. Jace had never heard of him before, but that doesn't mean much of anything in this industry. It didn't matter if he had been in the game before and sent shockwaves that rocked the very core of the wrestling world, or not. He was stepping into the RSW and against Jace O'Brien. Anything he did up until that point meant nothing.

Jace exhaled again, flicking the ashes off of the end of his cigarette. To Jace's advantage, the RSW compiles a data sheet of every wrestler housed by the company. Since nothing about the man was known, other than the fact that is apparently "worth the wait", Jace would have to do some investigating.

Another time.

Right now, Jace needed a second to clear his head of this Georgia DeLise situation - for a moment at least. Having his focus split, even in the smallest of percentages, threw him off this week - obviously. At the next Vendetta, that wouldn't be an option. Jace O'Brien needs to be dominant. Being the only champion in the RSW right now, losing two in a row? It can't happen.

"Aaros needs to die."

Jace has to make a statement at this next Vendetta. Jace needed to display the beaten and lifeless body of Aaros for every citizen of San Francisco, for every roster member of RSW and for every wrestling promotion to see. Jace needed to establish himself as a legitimate threat to anyone and everyone that stepped into a wrestling ring. There was no way around that. 

He knew this.

He also knew that Archer shouldn't have be able to make it to round two, but look what happened. This time Jace was going to leave nothing to chance. He wasn't going to split focus.

"I will kill Aaros in the most savage of ways."

He took a deep drag from his cigarette before flicking it away. Now he turned his head to the camera.

"Archer walked away, but not without a fight. He lived to tell the tale of the night he stepped into the ring with Jace O'Brien and survived. He made a mistake, though. He allowed me to live.

Aaros won't have such luck. Until the very last breath leaves my lungs, it is my mission to kill Aaros in order to reestablish myself in the RSW. It is my mission to leave the ring mat stained with blood."

He would take a momentary pause.

"Archer moves on in the Supreme Championship tournament. He gets to tell his tale. Unfortunately for Aaros - dead men tell no tales."

[Jace O'Brien]

"Gathering Intel"

He walked down the dark, empty hallway of The Arena, the home base for the RSW company. He wore the hood of his black hoodie over his head, black jeans and black boots. He knew he wouldn't be seen, but dressing in black felt appropriate. He felt a vibration from his phone in his pocket, and after retrieving it he checked the screen. No name, just a number, had sent him a text.

"Her office is unlocked."

Is all it read. He locked his phone again. That was all he needed to know. Slipping the phone into his pocket, he quickened his pace until he reached the office that belonged to Georgia DeLise. Is this what he was looking for, and is this the office that the text message had referred to? He reached out, twisting the knob and pushing the door opened. That answered the previous two questions.

He slipped into the office, closing the door behind him. Using that same cell phone in his hand, he turned on the flashlight option to aid his vision. Upon locating a small, two-drawer filing cabinet - he opened the top drawer, thumbing over files placed inside. "Jace O'Brien" immediately caught his eye. The Bay Area champion, though, didn't retrieve his own file. Instead he ran his thumb over every file until finding "Aaros".

Pulling the file out, he threw it on top of Georgia's desk and opened it. His eyes scanning the page, taking in all of the information he could on his opponent for the next Vendetta show. Jace was a talented wrestler, but all of the talent in the world doesn't mean much if you don't know your opponent. Now the champion would know a little more about his opponent other than the fact he's said only five words on RSW camera.

"So your a technician and a submissionist. You also have a high tolerance for pain, you're focused, smart and composed. You and I don't differ much do we, mate?" He said, eyes narrowing on the paper as he read more in the bright light from his iPhone. "You seem like a formidable opponent, it's a shame I'm gonna' have to end ya' before you get started in RSW."

Jace O'Brien needed to come into Vendetta looking for blood after what happened last week. He was the Bay Area champion, the only man holding a title right now. Looking weak was not an option. Last Vendetta a chink in his armor was exposed by Archer. This time there could be no flaws. This time Jace had to live up to the appropriate name he was given after his first victory here; The Bay Area Butcher.

He looked at the file a little longer, noting that he used a Superkick as his primary finisher, and a variation of a boston crab for his other. He noted the array of maneuvers Aaros has been known to use in the matches. He noted these items and already began developing counters and counter situations in his head. Jace was planning on winning this match, and Aaros would have to kill Jace in order to prevent that.

"Archer was able to get one over me, but you? You're not going to have such luck, mate." He said, eyes narrowed and still scanning over the papers in front of him. "I don't care how focused, or how blood thirsty you are. I'm the Bay Area champion for a reason, and that reason is because I destroy muppets like you. You won't be able to catch me, and out powering me is something you would attempt only if you're as dumb as you look. My strikes will cut through you like a sawblade, Aaros, and that is going to leave you vulnerable for a Downfall."

He closed the file and turned to put it away. After closing the filing cabinet, "My main goal has been to Purge this entire roster. I may have lost focus at the last Vendetta, but I can promise you that I won't lose sight of my purpose here anymore."

His phone vibrated again. Georgia DeLise is the name that appears.

"Hey, where are you?"

She was looking for her hired bodyguard. She was still in the hospital currently and wanted him at her side. So there he would have to be. 

Turning the flashlight from his phone off, he exited the office and began to make his way through the long, dark corridor to the parking lot to leave.

[Jace O'Brien]

"An Example Must Be Set."
------------

"You want to know how this is going down, mate?

You're going to push your way through this curtain for the first time, making your grand debut in front of every wrestling fan in San Francisco. You're going to walk down that aisle and get into the ring for the first time under the bright lights owned by my employer, Georgia DeLise. And I know that you're looking to impress and to pick up your first win here.

But it's not going to happen that way.

The way this is going to work out is: you're going to get your fuckin' face beaten in. 

This is my company, bruv. When I first walked through the doors, I made my intentions clear. To break each and every one of my opponents. Win, lose - it doesn't matter to me at all. All that matters to me is that I bloody up some fuckin' muppet that thinks they can climb into my ring and out-do me in anything.

Even Archer, who walked away with a win, knows who the hell I am. 

Just like you will when I'm finished with you."

Jace paused only for just a moment. Flashing a cocky grin.

"Tha' only difference between you and Archer is... you're not gettin' out of this one alive. The second you climb between those ropes, I'm comin' for your head.

I'm the Bay Area champion for a reason, Aaros. I'm the Bay Area Butcher for a bloody reason. And that reason is, in that ring, I'm one of the most dangerous men you will ever face. I have no care for your well being, I have no care for your life - Aaros. I will kill you where you stand and have no second thoughts or hesitations about it.

You're a fuckin' paycheque, that's all you are to me.

The second that I step into the ring and my fist connects with your fuckin' jaw, Georgia transfers money into my account. 

And tonight is me takin' care of business, mate. Putting you out of your fuckin' misery is my job. 

And after I'm done with you, I'm gonna' enjoy watching you try to sit in a park while wearing a full body cast. I'm gonna' enjoy hearing you give idle threats and warnings with no fuckin' teeth in your mouth. It's gonna' be a real sight to see."

He strapped his championship around his waist. Proudly displaying it.

"Ya' like that, eh mate? Take a good look at it because you're career in the RSW isn't gonna' last long enough for you to even get close to a championship. I'm dead serious when I say that I'm gonna' end you. I'm dead serious when I say that I'm going to fuckin' KILL you in that ring tonight.

What happened two weeks ago, Aaros, brought out a new mentality for me. What happened two weeks ago made the bloodthirsty beast in me awaken. And you? You're the unfortunate fuckin' prat that has to step into the ring with me this week. It's bad timin', bruv. If you would have waited just another fuckin' week to show up? Your life would have been spared. 

But. Things didn't work out that way, just like things aren't going to work out the way you expect them to tonight."

They were cuing his music up. In just moments you would hear Randy Blythe's spoken words for the opening of "Omerta" rip through the P.A.

"I may not be able to kill what's dead, as you so boldly say; but I can certainly fuckin' try. And I'm gonna' have fun while I do it. While I kick and punch you until your body breaks underneath you. I will bend, snap and tear your fuckin' arms and legs right off off your fuckin' body. 

An example must be set, Aaros. And you're the fuckin' sod that's been chosen for me to make an example out of.

Good luck, Aaros. And I hope you enjoyed the views from ya' little fuckin' picnic at the park while you did. Because the only view you will have after tonight is from the inside of a hospital room.

And with that said, the words "..Such is the rule of honor" are heard before the song officially starts.

Jace pushes his way out of the curtain and onto the ramp. Stoned face, he unzips his bomber jacket to reveal his Bay Area Championship to the RSW faithful.