A person often seeks refuge in a church when they feel they are at the edge of desperation. They turn to something holy to save life and turn their own pitiful lives around. Dean Ambrose was not one of those people. He made his way forward through empty house of worship and through the center of empty pews. There was no congregation in these benches. The stained glass windows allowed sunlight to pour in but the chapel was still had a notable absence of light. In front of the pews were two wooden crucifixes standing a few feet tall and positioned to the left and right of the seats. A series of candles were resting atop the crucifixes and the flames lightly flickered about. Ambrose, dressed entirely in black and with his hair messily arranged in front of his face, rubbed some fingers along his jawline.
Dean Ambrose: What a meteoric this Ambrose kid has had, right? I mean, every wrestler hopes for a rookie year like his when they make it to the big show..
He seemed to be relaying conversations he had heard or perhaps articles he had read about himself.
Dean Ambrose: We can really market him as a villain. He could be something special. He has all the tools. Already a two time champion, Royal Rumble winner, has win over Chris Jericho and he hasn't even been there close to a year.
Ambrose smacks a palm against one his cheeks and feigns an expression of concern.
Dean Ambrose: B-B-But we can't control him. No. He won't be our loose cannon. He won't play our stupid, little twitter games. We can't get him to sleep with any of the Diva's or some pathetic celebrity. No. Oh! I know!
A jubilant but manic smile appeared on his face.
Dean Ambrose: Anti-establishment! We can do that with him. ..But..no..NO..
He looks at his own hands and shakes his head at them in disbelief.
Dean Ambrose: He won't do that either. Wait a minute. Problem solved. He's going against Punk! Our rebel! Our Straight Edge rebel! Our drug free bad boy. That's going to sell some tickets. And what did he say a few weeks back? About how he's going to KILL WrestleMania? That's great! Great tagline! Can't wait to see how this all plays out.
His face closely mirrors the same smug expression the voices must have had when the were putting the pieces together.
Dean Ambrose: Because we don't think for a moment that he's actually going to do it. How can he KILL WrestleMania? It's impossible. Just because you win the World Title doesn't mean you have any power, right? And he's alone. I mean, he has Rollins but that's only one guy. We're far too arrogant to take this threat seriously. We're awash in our endless sea of morbid self attention to consider this a threat. Because he can't have found others. He's the only one who has possibly suffered this much, isn't he?
Ambrose started to laugh. Not in a dark or manical way but out of genuine amusement.
Dean Ambrose: I'm not in this church to pray for some kind of victory. I gave up on the idea a long time ago. You can pray all fay long but you will never get an answer. And you can live a good, honest life and everything you hold precious will still be taken from you. DO YOU WANT ME TO DO THIS?! SHOULD I MURDER THIS RIDICULOUS, OVERBLOWN EVENT?! SHOULD I HURT THESE LIFELESS ZOMBIES?!
He even cups a hand around his ear just to make sure that a voice would not go unheard. But no voice or divine intervention is heard.
Dean Ambrose: Nothing. Nothing at all. Do you know how many mights I spent screaming for some kind of answer just to get silence in return? Don't you think I wanted to hear something more than anything? I begged and I pleaded. And I watched as the creation that took everything from me just grow bigger and stronger. So I gave up on waiting to hear an answer and I started to create my own. I am going to burn this company down and then I'm going to burn the ashes.
Ambrose removed a photograph from his pocket and gave it a long stare. It was a picture of a child in a hospital bed, hooked up to tubes and looking to be in a vegetative state.
Dean Ambrose: Smart. Could have been something. Could have changed the world. But all of that is gone. Not even a trace left. But I'm going to make things right. I've been fighting for this opportunity. Not a single one of these superstars have been able to stop me. Because I'm not like them. I've been fighting my entire life and I haven't been able to stop, even though there are times I wanted to be complacent and weak. But it's not even helping. Life without you has no GOD DAMN REASON!
The photograph began to become a crumpled mess as his hand formed into a fist around. His teeth began to grind together and his explosive temper was flaring. His rage was directing itself to the ceiling.
Dean Ambrose: I fucking hate you! You could have taken anything from me! Anything! Why did it have to be him?! That was the only thing I cared about you piece of shit! I wouldn't have hurt a fly before all of this!
He brought himself to a calming point while dragging a palm along the side of his face, snatching some strands of hair in between his fingers as well.
Dean Ambrose: I get these thoughts when I'm alone. All these thoughts I have to battle. But I can deal with it..
It looked as though his composure had fully regained itself.
Dean Ambrose: But there's no stopping now. I'm way too close to the end and there's way too much at stake.
He continued his slow advance forward until he reached a confessional booth. It was opened and the picture of the child was taped inside of it.
Dean Ambrose: CM Punk is only fighting for a title. I'm fighting to put the pieces of my life back together. When he was beaten by Raven and had to defend his title week in and week out? It was because of me. I wanted him weak and drained when it was time for our fight. Brian Kendrick as a referee? It was just to mess with his mind. It's and it's going to work. I've taken care of the mental and the physical. I've been planning this out since day one and it's come together so perfectly.
A photograph of the current World Champion was placed to the right of the first one.
Dean Ambrose: I didn't want to bring that butcher, that monster Kendrick into this. But I had to. Sometimes you have to be willing to die a little to get what you want. And that sadist, that bastard won't leave that arena without being judged. I can assure everyone of that.
He bit tightly down on his bottom lip before allowing his tongue to go dragging it's way across his teeth. The moment was so near and close that he could practically taste it. A photograph of the Midnight Gang leader was secured into the confessional as well.
Dean Ambrose: Punk and Kendrick as the religious type. But after Sunday night when all that desperation kicks in..I have feeling they're going to feel a bit lost. They might start looking for answers when things are caving in around them.
The confessional was closed and Ambrose began to stroll away and towards the kick of the church. He a little more bounce in his step. Whatever he had cooking was putting his fragile psyche at ease.
Dean Ambrose: There won't be much of a point in believing in a higher power. It's not going make any difference. After WrestleMania there is only going to be one thing worth believing in. And that's Dean Ambrose.
Ambrose took his leave of the church and did so by booting the wide doors out of his way to allow his leave. He was confident but the world would have to wait and see if his means of execution for the wrestling world's biggest event would come to fruition.
