Kill John Cena

[Will]

"AJ Styles" and "unconfident" were never used in the same sentence. Nowadays, he was the arrogant, smug, son of a bitch that had no problem telling you that he was better than you and the rest of the wrestling world. During his time in the EBWF he had become more of a star than he ever was before in his career. Styles had wrestled every top superstar in the company and even legends like Bret Hart, Kevin Nash, Syxx, Chris Jericho and Lance Storm. But he was not without his critics. He had heard that he couldn't hold the World title again to save his life. His goal was to prove to himself that he could. He hadn't been in the World Title picture in a year but he made the Path To Glory Championship look like his World Title. Featured prominently on EBWF programming over the past six months AJ Styles had transformed from the once fan favored hero into the feral villain.

It would take an act of God or possibly Satan to stop his ultimate plan. Since returning to television and turning heel he had managed to secure a very neat record in one on one contest. That was until he was defeated by the current IC Champion, John Cena. If the title had been on the line, he would have proved all of these naysayers right. He would have been just another "wrestler" to be buried by John Cena during his record title reign.

But there it was. The PTG Title. The one way ticket to a World Championship opportunity. Draped across the bed of AJ Styles's fifteenth floor hotel room. His eyes were locked on it in a state of fixation while his arms were folded over his chest. He was anti-social now and didn't make as many public appearances as he once did. You could count the number of people on one hand that could call themselves friends of Allen Jones. The iPhone 5s beside his bed ringing was an distraction his concentration. It was his scheduled phone interview with Michael Cole to promote his upcoming match on Monday with John Cena. He lifted the receiver and brought it to his ear not answering but listening.

Michael Cole: We are now speaking to th-

AJ Styles: The EBWF Path to Glory Champion AJ Styles!

He cut Cole off abruptly.

AJ Styles: Preconceived notions. I've heard them all. I think I proved that I have nothing in common with Syxx. Even at his best, most egotistical, drug fueled days, Sean was not capable of avenging his best friends, his family, or his fans. On one of the biggest stages in this business I did what I said. I took out the trash. The nostalgia that was going on around this place is far gone and now I can finally move on to more important matters. I now have a chance to face Randy Orton whenever I choose fit for the EBWF World Championship. Looks like I knocked some sense into our CEO Chris Jericho after all.

Cole could be heard trying to speak but Styles continued to speak anyway.

AJ Styles: If I can do that to the man responsible for running this place..what can I do to John Cena this Monday night? Hm? I can hurt him, cripple him, break every bone in his body. I can defeat him. Ask John Cena if he thinks that's possible. You won't get a real answer from Cena? No, you won't. He'll just smile, tell some jokes, make a few children laugh and fly away. But you see, John Cena, you shouldn't do that. You can lie to your "Cenation"! You can lie to everyone else... But do not... DO NOT LIE TO ME!!!

The raging temper was heard in the tone of his voice as Michael Cole remained quiet on the other end of the phone. AJ's voice returned to its original calm nature as he continued to speak.

AJ Styles: Do not lie to me, Cena. For once in your life, tell the truth. I can be World Champion again due to the simple fact that I have beaten you before. I didn't pin you, I didn't make you tap out, but I threw your ass out of the ring and went on to main event WrestleMania. I beat Superman. How many other people can that? How many other people can say that had their hand raised after a match with John Cena? It's a very short list. Edge, Orton, Punk, Ambrose, and myself. So, there won't be any excuses after tonight. Cena was off his game that night? He looked sick. Did he hit his head? Again? Did that sexy camera girl with the hot ass keep him up all night? Of course not, because it's a little known fact that John Cena is a bit of a disappointment in the women's department. If anybody thinks Cena is going to stop me then they all have another thing coming. Over and over again all I could ever think was "WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO"? How many hoops did I have to jump through to get one fucking opportunity. I thought I'd have to give Chris Jericho a hand job. How many times did I have to be denied before they got it through their head that I will not stop hurting people until I get what I rightfully deserve? And Cena, being predictable, is going to tell me that I don't deserve a shot at the World title. He'll tell you that I'm not a threat and he'll do it in front of his army of drooling, idiotic fans and maybe throw a couple of funny pictures up for giggles. Let me save you the trouble. I sort of look like serial killer who hasn't bathed in weeks and and we both know where they end up. Of course, John Cena would never advocate murder, prison, or male bonding. He's just too sweet of a guy to do something like that. Wouldn't want to give the kiddies any wrong ideas, would we? Just Google Centon. Or how about some drug jokes? Yeah, go there. Those are safer. Because, you know, I've never heard those before.

The sarcastic tone in his voice seemed too calm for comfort and this interview was now becoming a full blown AJ Styles promo.

AJ Styles: I would've went on to say that Cena doesn't know what it's like to have his body pummeled and destroyed, for essentially no reward at all! But he does... He knows how bad it felt when he lost the King of the Ring, so he knows that It just makes me you more desperate and that more anxious to be on top again. But I'm forgetting. John Cena is a tough guy. He's hard. He can go through guys like Randy Orton and end his overrated title run. He can smash the Conor O'Brian's of the world and leave them in career purgatory. John Cena has held his championship for 200 plus days. That's a really cute but it doesn't mean anything to me. I'm aware that you, Chain-Gang Commander, whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean, are capable of making a man bleed. I've seen you do it. You can be downright brutal when you want to be. You're righteous and you have this thing with punishing the wrong doers. A noble move of you to appoint yourself our judge jury and executioner...


Styles wanted to let out a roar but kept his composure long enough to continue speaking. The topic of John Cena was a very sensitive one and he found that a pool of emotion was flooding from him at the very moment.

AJ Styles: You might think I'm sick. But it kinda gets me off. The whole wrath thing. Don't get me wrong, I love the embrace of a woman but there is just something about blood that gives me wood.

That might of been way too much information and as creepy as it came off he continued right along.

AJ Styles: I've really gotten to a point where I'm no longer going to be held accountable for my actions. And I want to apologize to all of John Cena's friends in advance. All those parasites that leech onto him and follow his every move, smiling the entire time. There isn't going to be an after party like usual. No. John isn't going to be able to make it. He's going to the hospital after I kick him in the head over and over again. Maybe I'll just set him on fire. That's apparently how things work around here, right? Don't kill Wrestlemania. Kill John Cena. Then watch as a plan unfolds. What you think you know about me? Forget it. I'm not that guy anymore. The only thing you should think about when it concerns me is your next World Champion.

Cole couldn't even respond because Styles had already pressed the end button on his phone. Standing up from his seated position Styles walked over to his bed and put on a jacket before calmly collecting his championship gold. He turned his attention towards the corner of the room and looked for a brief moment. Sudden lifelike flashes came over him and all he seen were images of violence, mayhem, and carnage. Styles rushed out of the room for fresh air, slamming the door shut in the process.