The Number Of The Beast

Pressure Point 76
Sept. 22, 2003
Starring Levine & Sharc
Writer: Leary

"Introduction to Mayhem" by Primer 55 hit. The hate thermostat went off the charts for the man who despises all of Action, all of wrestling and all of life. A man who lives in making misery his lifelong companion. Trash was being flung before he even showed his face to the Phoenix crowd.

Levine.

The loner, the rebel, the man with the I-don't-give-a-fuck-about-anybody-where's-my-knife-to-gut-you-with-already? attitude. He stepped out and didn't even acknowledge the fan, further pissing them off. He looked straight ahead and purposely averted his eyes from all the pieces of shit who wasted their money here tonight.

He was going to make sure of it.

Levine slowly climbed the stairs, wielding nothing other than a microphone. He wipes some sweat from his bald head and then entered the ring. Levine looked toward the main camera side of the arena and then turned his back on it. He wasn't here to put on a fucking show for anybody.

Levine turned his head toward a cameraman on the apron of the ring. When he saw the little red "broadcast light" go on, he turned his back again. There was a chorus of boos filling the arena when Levine's music died off. The producers eventually gave up trying to get a shot of Levine and let him play out hiis anti-Action move.

"All you marks in the crowd make me fucking sick." The boos got even louder. "I don't know if YOU people make me quite as sick as some of the people in this company. LLB...when I left this piece of shit federation, you were holding me down. I thought we were past that. But why should I? You continue to throw your weight around backstage and try to fuck me over.

"Nobody fucks me over.

"Never again. I've fucking had it. Every week some piece of shit wrestler tried to play with me. LLB, Roland, you are pathetic. You are everything that is wrong with this company. If you want to taste anything other than dirt, you'll stay the fuck away from me until I've left this place for good."

That statement of Levine leaving Action got cheers, but Levine didn't even acknowledge it, deciding to talk over the cheers and piss off the fans. He wasn't here to play a heel. He was here to BE evil.

"But Roland isn't the only person in this place who thinks he can walk all over me. I can't stand one fucking person in this place. And now...there is a man trying to make his name off of me. Apparently he thinks that I am no longer the Satanic God. The Mind Manipulator. Let me tell you something, Sharc. Let me tell you something, Rich. Don't just a man by his name.

"I may have changed my name. I may have changed my appearance. But you cannot be the mind manipulator. You cannot manipulate the mind of the originator. What you're doing, Rich, is playing a mind game. You see, I have never 'played' games. The only games I play are to see how much I can wound and injure a man before he finally falls over and loses to me, or dies."

The fans began a "shut the fuck up" chant for Levine, who, again, talked right over it. Something that really pisses off the smarks.

"You will not prove yourself to be a hardcore icon by warring with me. You will learn why there is a trail of destroyed lives and corpses behind me. If you get fun out of poking your finger into a wasps nest, if you get fun out of jumping into a snake pit, if you have fun, well, jumping into shark infested waters, you are about to experience the most fun moments of your life. And the last.

"Unlike those other creatures, I'll have fun when I wound you, make you bleed and die the slowest death. First, destroying your mind. Then destroying your body. Until there is nothing left. Until you become a bitter shell. Until you become dead inside. Until you are dead."

The crowd had quieted down a bit on the boos and insults being thrown Levine's way. There was something very different in Levine's tone tonight. A certain calculated intensity and rage. A thunderstorm just beginning to be heard and felt. A boiling pot just ready to burst over and scald.

That was when Levine turned. This time, he turned his back toward the entrance ramp. The cameraman on the apron turned on, and this time, Levine didn't turn away. Instead, he looked at it and issued a challenge of his own.

"If you really think you can last in this ring, not once, not twice, but as many times as it takes to end my reign of this wrestling business. Why don't you come down here and attack me."

The crowd cheered for that prospect.

"Man to man. Take the shot. Get in the ring and attack me. A war is not won in one match, not in one attack and not in one declaration. A war with me is won when I'm dead."

With that, Levine waited. The fans began chanting for "We Want Sharc," urging the anti-hero of sorts to make an appearance and kick Levine's ass. Several seconds past, and the fans chant ceased.

"C'mon, Rich. Whatever happened to you hating this place as much as me, huh? You know these fans would take a piss on your face if you were laying unconscious in a urinal. These fans who want fucking perfect wrestling matches, who want the best wrestling in the world. And yet, I can't get one of these so-called wrestlers to face me in the ring. They're too busy shitting themselves or plotting against me.

"You're just like them all, Sharc. A loser. A guy who thinks he belongs, but he's just pretending. You start fucking some little blonde thing and you think you're normal? You've never been normal. I know that. These fans know that. You're just pretending. You're a fake. Plastic. But plastic burns and melts away, Rich. And I'll be the one there with the match and gasoline."

Levine didn't seem phased at all by Sharc's non-appearance. He calmly waited, getting booed and jeered by the Action fans.

"I bet it really fucks with your mind that you've been claiming to be extreme and hardcore for the last year, and nobody even noticed because you were in my shadow. Nobody even saw you. While I was main eventing against giants, you were playing with midgets for meaningless titles. But there's a big difference between playing with a lighter, and playing with explosives."

Then, Sharc made his appearance. Not in person, but instead showing up on the ActionTron. Levine responded to the cheers the fans let out upon seeing Sharc, wondering from where he would come. But Levine saw Sharc out of the corner of his eye.

"Pussy," Levine said.

"Levine. Levine. Levine," Sharc said, shaking his head. "What's going on, brother? Man, don't you just miss PIW? I bet you do, since you still carry that little world title around like it's your security blanket. You may have been a champion a year ago, but what the fuck have you done since then?

"Let's face it, KroW," Sharc said, again, trying to bring out the darkest part of Levine, the part Sharc still had respect for. "You came back to Action and have done what you've always done. Bore the hell out of the fans."

The fans cheered for that one. But Sharc continued.

"People always change. Some people change for the better. But, KroW, I know you're still in there. I cannot for the life of me figure out why you are still calling yourself Levine though. I keep telling you, you're not named Levine. I don't know where you picked up the name, or if somebody was just lying to you. You would be stupid enough to believe that.

"I hinted that I know your identity. I've hinted that I know who took it away from you when they cracked your skull open with a steel pipe." Sharc paused to brush his blood red hair off of his face. "But I've got a really big question I want you to answer for me right now, Levine."

Sharc paused and moved in closer to the camera for an extreme close up.

"In all your days, have you ever heard of the term previously recorded?"

Levine's eyes went wide in anger. He spun around--

CRACK

And got a stiff chair shot to the skull. He didn't even get to see Sharc, just flying blue steel. Levine landed flat on his back, dazed, but he was ready to get back up and fight.

Thing was, when he sat up--

CRACK

He got an even stiffer shot to the face. But Sharc, obviously, wouldn't stop there. He began pounding the steel chair all across Levine's body, from his chest all the way down to his knees. Beating and beating. Just until Levine was hurt and dazed enough to give Sharc the opportunity to head out to the floor.

The fans cheered as Sharc grabbed a weapon from under the ring.

A steel pipe.

In the ring, Levine was struggling to sit up, but just couldn't find the power. He wasn't going to stop trying to get that power however, as he rolled and jerked, trying to push himself up. Sharc slid back in the ring, a sick smile on his face, watching Levine struggle.

Sharc grabbed Levine by the throat and lifted him up to his feet. He let go of the choke, leaned back, and let rip a shot to the top of Levine's head with the steel pipe. Levine collapsed against the ropes, laid out across the bottom one.

Sharc dropped the pipe on the mat and picked up the microphone Levine had been using. Sharc got down on his knees and took a seat beside the unconscious and bleeding Levine.

"You see, Levine. About eight years ago, you lost your identity. But now, I have something that has your name, your date of birth, and your hometown in it. Whatever could that be..." Sharc said, pausing.

He then dug into his black jeans and pulled out a black wallet and looked at it, then down at Levine.

"I have the driver's license of some guy named Levine. Levine, Levine, Levine," Sharc said, snapping his fingers. "Hey, that's you, isn't it? I mean, how many Levines do I know? You want this?" Sharc asked, sticking it out in front of the unconscious Levine. "No? You sure? Well, hell, I guess I should just hang onto it then. Maybe sell it if you continue to piss me off. Hell, maybe I could just flush it down the toilet. You fans thing I should flush this piece of shit's license down the toilet?"

The crowd cheered, obviously.

"Well, the people have spoken. I have your number, Levine. You and Satan can both blow me, because Satan doesn't scare me, and neither do you," Sharc said, grabbing the bottom rope and sliding to the floor. His theme music, "Five MInutes Alone" hit the speakers and Sharc raised his arms triumphantly, heading up the ramp.

In the ring, Levine was jolted back to reality by the sound of Sharc's music. He shook his head, confused as to where he was. His head was pounding. He felt blood dripping down his forehead. Levine grabbed the rope above him and pulled with all the strength he had left and turned around.

Sharc was gone.

And Levine was going to find him and fuck up his life.

NEXT CHAPTER: Dejavu from 2002 >>

©2003 John Leary