The Broken Night

[David]

The scene doesn’t fade in as usual, but opens abruptly with a shot of a flickering light, we are shown a wandering shot of a vaguely familiar set. A desk chair is shown knocked over with multiple cuts on it, further to the right of it, a two cushioned couch is upside down and completely ruined by stabs.

“The Broken’s night is Sunday.”

As “The Architect” talks, the scene cuts again, to a shot of Seth Rollins’ hand playing with the Golden Knife that was given to him as a gift by Jimmy Havoc. He starts chipping away at a wooden surface.

“Ever since I left my previous… Home. Everybody’s been saying a whole lot of the same. They’ve said that I had peaked already, that anything from then was a slow downhill trip. Then I was called up by EBWF management, and came here. Then the story changed, then a bandwagon was formed around me, and the sheep started rolling in. The boos turned to mixed reactions, and the cheers slowly grew.”

Rollins brings the knife towards his front, near his waist and tests its sharpness in his own fingertips.

“There were whispers, about how Seth Rollins had found his groove again, but they failed to realize that Seth Rollins had never lost any ounce of his capabilities. I showed I was every bit The Man I have been, if not more. But I gave in, and pandered to those who weren’t worthy of my time. The EBWF fans. Right where I stand at this very moment is where I made jokes and laughed every opponent off. It’s where I really started this internal battle, pandering to those people really made me hate myself, it almost… broke me.”

Seth pokes his own index finger, causing a little blood to pour out. The shot rises up to his face, past the all black suit and tie ensemble he was wearing. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a while with bags under his eyes and a fixated stare into the knife he rotated in front of his face.

“They say in big moments; the tension can be cut with a knife… But what if tension isn’t the only thing getting cut? I spent an interesting evening the other day, one that may have brought me an all-new hobby that will keep me busy. This new hobby is much better than pandering to those sheep.”

Rollins looked in front of him, as the camera panned away to reveal that the trashed scenery belonged to the now defunct talk-show, the Rollins Report.

“Speaking of pandering, who better to make an example of than a man so arrogant, that he thinks anybody has to listen to his raspy voice, or look at his sewer rat-like features. I know that he’s going to go out there, in those blinding lights and adoring fans, and he will do what he does best, he will run his mouth. He will say that I will be tired by the time we face, that I am the final match for the Broken on Summerslam, and that he is going to defeat me. He will do what people like him to do, and he’ll say what people want to hear. Bottom line, he’ll pander.”

Seth chuckles to himself before his arm suddenly lunges towards the scratched, worn-out desk, stabbing it with the golden knife.

“BUT PANDERING…”

Seth’s voice had raised significantly from a quiet speech to a loud scream.

“Pandering… will only get you so far. If you want to realize your true potential, you have to embrace the fact that every single thing around you is... Broken. Even yourself. That’s when it all begins, that is where Jimmy Havoc came in.”

Rollins looked upwards, at the rafters, as if he was remembering something.

“When he joined EBWF, I could feel something wasn’t normal about this guy. I was the only one who welcomed Havoc in, I taught him about EBWF, but he taught me something more valuable. He taught me how to carve my own path. To steer away from the names that paved the way. He taught me that as soon as we realize we are Broken, we can work on fixing the world to fit our mold.”

Seth sighs deeply and looks straight into the camera.

“But, Enzo, I’m afraid you don’t fit in any of these worlds. I’ll concede, you do have the gift of gab, but that won’t get you anywhere on Sunday. I know how you like to run your mouth, and say you’re a certified G, right… Well, here’s a thing that Havoc taught me as well, the value of gifting. I got you a gift, so you something other than the gift of gab. I got you an actual certification… Well, it’s more of a certificate, see…”

Seth walks over behind the desk and picks up something that is hidden inside Christmas wrapping, clearly a piece of paper.

“I know it’s Summer and everything but there’s no such thing as a bad time to give a gift, and my gift to you is that certification you wanted so much. I got you your very own death certificate. This Sunday, you’re going to put it to good use, when I teach you the cold hard truths about life. I will teach you that you don’t belong, that you can’t kill what won’t die, and that you can never break The Broken.”

Seth quietly laughs to himself, before suddenly lunging towards the camera to end the segment on a constant static.