Hate Turns to Vengeance

Pressure Point 58
April 28, 2003
Starring: Fiend, Sharc & Bait

Dislike often turns to hate. Hate turns to vengeance. And vengeance becomes a blood feud. One week ago, that is exactly what happened between two newcomers to Action, Sharc and Fiend. Two vicious competitors have crossed paths for the last couple of weeks, and this week is no different.

Fiend sat in his locker room, wondering how in the hell he had gotten stuck with a loser of a partner like Kayden Paulton when something grabbed his attention. Sure, there was the sound of the door open, but then there stood two figures.

Sharc and Bait.

And they didn't have an invite.

Fiend looked at them, glaring from one to the other. Then he noticed Sharc's face. His grin came across his face.

The kind of grin that would make your eggs go infertile.

Fiend grunted at them as if to say "What the fuck do you want?"

"I've been hit with a lot of weapons before in my time," he said slowly massaging his bandaged forehead. "Last week. That was...interesting. You got a thing for knives, huh?"

"I like shiny things. You came in to ask me what I like to use to remove the yellow from someone's back?" Fiend replied with a cheekier grin.

There was a slight crumpling noise behind Sharc, but neither Sharc nor Fiend noticed it. Sharc just took a couple steps forward and stared at Fiend dead in the eye.

"I like blood. And before this night is through, your blood will be on my hands," Sharc said as a small clicking was heard behind them, again, neither man noticing, too interested in annoying the other one.

"Ah, bloody me, huh?" Fiend said to Sharc as he came a step closer.

Fiend's grin disappeared. He looked deep into Sharc's eyes trying to find out who the man before him was.

"In case you didn't know, pal, red is my favourite colour, capische? It brings out my eyes."

Fiend turned his glare to Bait as he awaited a reply from the multiple PIW champion.

Sharc was silent for several seconds until he said five words that confused Fiend for a couple of seconds. Until he looked down at the floor to see that in fact these five words were true. But by the time he looked back up, Sharc and Bait were merely figures at the doorway.

And those five words were: "Your bag is on fire."

Bait had apparently been making a present for Fiend behind Sharc's back. The crunching? Paper into a ball. The clicking? A lighter. The toss. Silent.

Fiend stared at the burning bag before him, crouching by it with that grin on his face.

"Simple. Effective. But simple all the same," Fiend said.

He grabbed a water bottle that was nearby, pouring it over the flaming bag. He chuckled to himself.

"This guy wants to play with me."

The tag match was going to be Fiend's playground. He was sure of it.

NEXT CHAPTER: The Odd Couple >>