Post by salvatore on Oct 26, 2021 13:50:43 GMT -6
“So, you made it safely to the Ever Given.” The scene begins with the voice of Stefan Moreaux, on speakerphone with Angelo Salvatore.
“Yeah.”
“Any issues?”
“Well, actually…”
Disinterested, Moreaux cuts him off. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Then why’d you…”
“Forget it. We see you have a match this week.”
‘“Against Paradiso.”
“Exactly. We’ll be watching.”
The call ends. Angelo sighs as he slides the phone back into his pants’ pocket. He looks around, surveying an undisclosed town in Singapore. He knew he couldn’t travel very far. He didn’t have a clue where he was and he knew he needed to make the BPW show on Wednesday. He still wasn’t clear on what was going on in BPW, or better yet, why he’d been tasked with infiltrating the company and finding out more about what transpired in Las Vegas and why. The Moreaux brothers weren’t clear with their motives but Angelo didn’t exactly have the leverage to be asking the questions he needed to.
His phone began ringing again. This time, it was his brother, Franco.
“Hello?”
“Angelo. Thank god.”
“Something wrong, brother?” Angelo could sense the panic in his brother’s voice.
“Well, lots. But, it’s good to know you’re alright. I haven’t heard from you in a while. Not since you left on the boat, actually.”
Angelo nodded to himself. He could understand the worry. Especially with Franco basically alone with the Moreaux brothers in Vegas. “Sorry, Franco. Yes, I’m just fine. My debut, if you can call it such, didn’t exactly go as planned. However, oddly enough, Stefan Moreaux did not even mention that as I was just speaking to him.”
“I’m not all that surprised. The Moreaux brother’s have completely lost their minds.”
Angelo’s eyes widened. There were so many thoughts flooding through his mind as his brother said that. “What do you mean?”
“They’ve gone to war with the Aztecs.”
“They’ve always been at war; so have we. For many years.”
“Yeah, I know. But not like this. The city was already in shambles thanks to BPW. But now, the Moreaux’s...they’re burning everything. There’s gunfire everywhere. The LVPD is basically destroyed. The city is a wasteland. I’ve stayed in the Casino all along, despite the ongoing renovations, which are SOMEHOW still being carried out. But the streets are practically a warzone. It’s hard to fathom.”
Angelo hung his head for a moment. He regretted leaving. He knew his brother wasn’t cut out for the line of work he found himself in. “I’m sorry, Franco. I’ll be back as soon as I can be.”
“Where are you now?”
“Singapore.”
“Fuck. What the hell was that?! I gotta go.”
The call ends before Angelo can say another word to Franco. All of a sudden, he was alone again. He was unsure of what exactly was happening back in Las Vegas but he did know he had no control over it whatsoever. As he started walking to try and clear his head, a voice was heard from the shadows.
“Mister Salvatore…”
Angelo swung around, with his fists at the ready. A tall man in a fedora and long black trench coat stood before him. His face appeared to be nothing but pure blackness; a void.
“What the fu-”
The figure raised his hand, and Salvatore stopped.
“You are working with the Moreaux brothers. This is unfortunate.”
That explained everything Angelo needed to know.
“Aztecs.”
“You are correct. So, what are we to do, Mister Salvatore? Shall we count you as an enemy to our survival? The Moreaux brothers have decided a scorched earth tactic is the way they’d like to do business.”
“I hate them.”
“Now that, I like to hear. Perhaps there’s hope for you and your brother yet.”
Within the blink of an eye, the figure moved with lightning fast quickness towards Angelo. Everything went black.
Next thing he knew, Angelo Salvatore was walking up in a bed. It wasn’t a hospital bed, and he was inside a building. He looked out the window and he was clearly in the same city as before. This gave him a strange feeling of comfort, given recent events. He stood from his bed, noting he was still in the same clothes as earlier, but a splash of blood covered a large majority of the shirt. He was alarmed by that. He walked into the bathroom of what looked to be a hotel room, and glared in the mirror.
Worried by what he saw, he moved his right hand along his pale white skin to rest on his neck.
A bite.
“Paradiso.
You will be the first to fall at my feet here in Black Pyramid Wrestling. My debut might have been somewhat surprising and mysterious and you, along with many others may wonder where exactly I came from. I take it the application process is not exactly on the up and up around here. So I might as well clear that up for you, and everyone else. Las Vegas is my home, and it has been for my entire adult life. My family grew from nothing to become a success story, all thanks to the city of Las Vegas.
BPW destroyed Las Vegas. BPW treated it like a playground. Like it didn’t matter. It left Las Vegas in ruins as it moved on without a second glance. That will not stand. I’ve come here to show that. Everyone in Black Pyramid Wrestling is culpable for what happened in Las Vegas. Nobody is innocent. I’ll make it my mission to see you all pay the price, albeit it small in comparison to what you’ve all cost me and my city.
Consider this your one and only warning.”
There is one final shot of Angelo as he appears to be standing on a dock, overlooking the night sky.
He wasn’t alone.