( Haven't done anything with Kane in a while so I thought I would throw something up for fun. )
"You want to do WHAT?"
The unlikely pairing of Tyler Reks and Michael stood in an arena hallway. Reks stared down at the announcer with a confused expression. Normally, the dreadlocked and bearded figure would have gruffly pushed him away and carried on with his day. But a request like this had stopped him in his tracks. Especially coming from Michael Cole of all people.
Michael Cole: "I want to interview Kane."
Again, Reks stared off in disbelief without saying a word.
Michael Cole: "I've heard that he's going to participate in the IC Title Gauntlet. I want to know his thoughts. I want to know what he thinks about the apparent defection of Curt Hawkins."
Reks was Kane's lone henchmen after Alberto Del Rio and Curt Hawkins both broke away from him. Reks scratched a few fingers along side his ratty, nest of tangled hair.
Tyler Reks: Not that I care..but that is a horrible idea.
Michael Cole: "I'm an investigative journalist. I was a war corespondent. I can handle it."
After initially finding Cole's smugness to be irritating, Reks began to smirk.
Tyler Reks: "Whatever you say."
He couldn't help but laugh to himself as he led the announcer along. He didn't have a conscience but if he did, it would be clean. He had given Cole fair warning.
---
It appeared as though the warning did very little to deter Cole. Although, it should have. The locker room he found himself in was covered in a familiar red light that seemed to follow the seven foot monster wherever he went. But Michael Cole couldn't see it. His face covered in a tight black mask with no eye or mouth holes. His arms were bound and tied to the sides of his body with some kind of chains. And, just for added discomfort, he had also been hung upside down from the ceiling. The behemoth stepped into the frame, dressed in his usual wrestling attire, sans his mask. But his dark, wet hair and the generally shadow filled nature of the room kept his face hidden.
Kane: "Well, well, well. Michael Cole. Funny how I just find you..hanging around."
He laughed to himself as he slipped on his crimson mask. His two-toned eyes silently watching the squirming figure in front of him.
Kane: "You have some questions for me?"
As he cupped an ear as he leaned his way forward. Of course nothing came but muffled pleas.
Kane: "What's that? Curt? I don't have any use for him anymore. He obviously has too much humanity. I'm looking for something fresh. Like..the IC Title."
Kane lurched off screen but he could still be heard talking.
Kane: "The rumors are true. I do want it. I want to give The Miz and anyone else who participates a taste of what hell is like."
Kane returned carrying what looked like some kind of ouija board with pentagrams all over it. He tossed it underneath of Cole and soon there after, tossed a fireball from his gloved hand onto the object to set it ablaze. How? There was no reason to ask for logic and physics when Kane was involved. His head cocked itself sideways.
Kane: "You seem tense. Here. Let me help."
He cleared his throat and began to do what could almost be called singing, laughing darkly in between breaths.
Kane: "..So I set the world on fire..we can burn brighter..than the sun.."
As the flames began to rise, the arena's security team barged in. They cautiously inched closer to the devil's favorite demon. Kane glared at them with a great deal of animosity.
Security Leader: "Kane..let him go.."
Kane: "We're just getting started here. Have you ever heard of knocking?"
A tense stare down took place until Kane lunged forward and knocked over the camera in the process. The scene went to static.
