Anyone associated with the EBWF were fair game and targets for The Shield. Typically, all of their focus and aggression was reserved for current members of the roster and even those who held loftier positions. When The Shield arrived and began to search and destroy anything and anyone, some of those in high paid, very desirable positions stepped down and sought employment elsewhere. Every job had it's own level of stress but this went above and beyond work place hazards. Some left immediately after WrestleMania and others fled once they watched The Hounds of Justice grow in power. Out of sight and out of mind, right? They had bigger fish to fry, more pressing engagements and surely wouldn't go to the trouble of hunting them down.
They were sorely mistaken.
Three former members of the EBWF Board of Directors had been ruthlessly and covertly drug kicking and screaming into the clutches of The Shield. Two straight off of the streets and one directly out of their home. Their tactics had grown more extreme and even grander in scale. A result of Dean Ambrose failing to regain the coveted and highly sought after World Championship? Perhaps. Or maybe this could have been the plan all along. There wasn't a human being alive who was able to predict the mastermind behind The Shield's thought process so those were answers that only he knew. Despite his erratic nature, there was indeed a structure and method behind everything that he did.
Two of the victims were in their late forties. The first being an overweight, bald gentleman with a grey beard who probably looked a lot like your favorite, kindly, jovial uncle. The other a tall, lanky male who probably never thought in his wildest dreams that he would find himself in a situation like this. Lastly, a female with short blonde hair who was only in her mid thirties. Very attractive for someone who had previously spent most of her days locked up in a board room. She had a fit, trim body and had no doubt used most of her off-time in the gym.
They had no clue how they had reached their current location nor did they have even the slightest inkling of where they were. They had been blindfolded the entire duration of their little trip along with having their hands tied ridiculously tight behind their backs. Their ankles were tied together which seemed a little superfluous since it wasn't like they were going to be able to outrun so many men at once. The former board members stared up at the sight standing over them: Dean Ambrose. He sneered down at them with his hands resting behind his back and a look of pure contempt in his eyes. He was gazing at them as if they were less than human, even less than animals. They wanted to scream about how they weren't even affiliated with the company anymore but the black gags in their mouths prevented that. From their vantage point flat on their backs and neatly piled in a row, shoulder to shoulder with one another, they might as well have been in a haunted house. The floor creaked every time they moved, their were windows sealed shut and they were surrounded. The only other person they recognized amongst the surly, angry looking men in black was a large, intimidating Samoan fellow. Roman Reigns. Someone you didn't want to meet in a dark alley. Or, more fittingly, someone you didn't want to meet in a dark room where you were bound and gagged. After a long silence ensued, that familiar, broken, jagged voice began to speak.
Dean Ambrose: Hello there, lady and gentlemen..
Trying to set up was a chore at this point but they could tell that his black boots had been to slowly pace back and forth. The floor continued to creak.
Dean Ambrose: Although, I guess those terms are a little unnecessary when used in relation to you three..
He had leaned down a little closer, presumably so they got a good eye full of who would be their tormentor for the evening and pointed a finger towards his face.
Dean Ambrose: Hey. Cast your beady little eyes up here. I want you to realize that even though you jumped ship that it doesn't wash away what you've been a part of. You still are going to feel the terror of your crimes.
The man pulling the strings lowered to a crouching position and gave a slow, long look at each of his catches individually.
Dean Ambrose: Survivor Series is going to be a very, very big night for The Shield. Some of the biggest offenders are all lined up and neatly gift wrapped just for us! Sort of like you are right now. I doubt they're going to go down as easily but the stupid, fish out of water expressions are probably going to be about the same.
After creeping a few fingers forward he leaned in closely to the slender man's ear and began to speak through gritted teeth.
Dean Ambrose: We have been waiting for this moment. Particularly, I have been waiting on this since the day I showed up in the EBWF..
Beads of sweat began to run down the willowy, slim mans face and his eyes couldn't have been any bigger. Ambrose suddenly shot to his feet without warning and deceptive speed.
Dean Ambrose: I mean, just look at who we have ready to face off against us! It's like Thanksgiving and Christmas have combined and come early! The worst of the worst, a who's who of scumbags that I have personally been DYING to get a hold of. Oh. But wait, wait, wait.
While still staring down at his trio of helpless souls, the commander of The Shield motioned a hand towards the visually striking Reigns.
Dean Ambrose: Look who I have on my side. The big cat right here. People have been pushing ALL of the wrong buttons and I think it's time we unleashed him. Does this look like a man who is afraid of anyone? Let alone the pieces of garbage that have formed together to stand up to us? NOPE. I don't think so. Fear is not seen in those eyes. This guy right here could very well take out that whole team by himself. Go ask Ted DiBiase how long it's going to be until he can eat solid food again after Reigns speared the ever living SHIT out of him. Nah. He ain't afraid of them. But, then again, who the hell would be? Did you SEE them Monday night? All standing around, holding hands, lip syncing the bosses theme song? Seriously, I mean this, what a bunch of pussies. HEY!
Ambrose spun around and directed his next question towards his faceless, darkly dressed cohorts in the background.
Dean Ambrose: Have we EVER prepared for a fight by conducting a little sing-a-long?
There was a unanimous negative reaction and many head shakes.
Dean Ambrose: NO! Because this is a WAR and we incinerate those who try to stop us! I really don't care about Rhodes and Bryan, we're only helping him because we have mutual enemies. And where..where..is Seth? Ah. I remember. He has some experiments to conduct but don't think for one second that we aren't completely united because, oh, we so are..
Ambrose's line of consciousness flip-flopped all over the place and it was impossible to judge what he was going to say or do next. Case in the point, the action he was about to take. He leaned down once again, this time targeting the rotund fellow. The hapless man in a suit's eyes grew to an enormous size.
Dean Ambrose: I'm sorry, am I boring you? GET YOUR ASS UP.
With all the grace of an abusive parent, Ambrose hauled the unlucky man to his feet and left it up to Reigns to determine his punishment. The muscle behind The Shield saw it fit to send him hurdling shoulder first into one of the nearby walls, shoulder fist, releasing a heart stopping roar in the process. The poor guy released muffles screams of agony and lay in a heap. The injuries further complicated by being tied down.
Dean Ambrose: Stop bitching it's just separated shoulder! I could tell by that tearing sound. That scream is definitely from a tear, not a break. ..Hey, you two know John Cena, right?
He asked after turning to face his remaining captives, cupping a hand over his ear as if they were possibly going to be able to respond intelligibly.
Dean Ambrose: Of course you do! I'm sure you slaved many work day ours thinking of ways to have that cash cow invade EVERY form of media! As if his dumb, grinning face wasn't bad enough, you helped to slap it on literally anything that could be have a price tag attached to it. Well, as it turns out, he isn't exactly the smartest guy around. Shocking, I know. Because he went out and found a team full of people who I'VE ALREADY BEATEN THE SHIT OUT OF!
Ambrose leaned down to the pair on the floor who winced and closed their eyes tightly.
Dean Ambrose: I mean..look at Syxx. Oh my god, that old bastard still hasn't retired yet?!
He released a deep groaning sound and slowly drug his hands along the side of his face in anguish.
Dean Ambrose: The forty year old, male, Miley Cyrus is STILL out there embarrassing himself? Jesus Christ, is he ever going to realize that he's never going to be cool again? SOMEONE find this mother fucker some JNCO jeans, a bucket hat and a Papa Roach cd and kick his ass back into a time portal to 1999! Honestly, and I'm not making this up, the last encounter I had with him I kicked HIS ass, and I kicked his pillhead best friends SON's ass and do you know what bothered him the most? The fact that I made fun of his undeniably shitty taste in music.
A deep exhale of a sigh escaped his chest and Ambrose actually looked more annoyed than outrageously furious.
Dean Ambrose: I understand that I'm dealing with a third grade education that lost most of that after drug use but god damn. He's also a liar because I recall him saying something along the lines of if he couldn't win the World Title then he was going to retire. LIAR! His out of shape, sickening face is still popping up on television! And what has he done since that BOLD proclamation? Get dropped by AJ Styles, get dropped by Ted DiBiase and still, STILL, walk around being a grown ass man who lives by the slogan "Fuck Everyone".
In complete and total mockery, Ambrose performed a crotch chop and then let his tongue dangle out with holding up a pair of devil horns before smacking himself across the face.
Dean Ambrose: Sure, he put up more of a fight than I thought he would but for all of his talk? I wasn't impressed. This time I'm going to make sure that whatever beating I give him he doesn't get back up from. I'm going to hit him so hard that his washed, somehow even older, professional tweeter Kevin Nash feels it. Speaking of feeling it..
Ambrose motioned his head towards the remaining male and turned his back. Roman Reigns snagged him and, with almost no effort, yanked him to his feet. The man struggled as best he could but he was drug to one of the open windows.
Dean Ambrose: You're probably the one who green-lit his return so..
After some maneuvering, Reigns had gripped the man by the ankles and dangled him out of the window. He swayed lightly back and forth like a worm on a hook and looked down at his potential third story drop. There was more horrible, muffled screams.
Dean Ambrose: Holy shit. Seth's going to regret missing this. He would have such a boner right now.
The screaming suddenly stopped. Not because Reigns dropped the man. But because he had fainted. Ambrose was not impressed by this lack of courage and he openly scoffed as Roman dumped him off in a corner.
Dean Ambrose: Can't say I'm really surprised. Guess you're all alone, sweet heart..
Dean pushed some of his hair away so as to best be presentable with a lady present before he stood over her.
Dean Ambrose: Do you know who else Cena has on his little squad? The Miz. Oh, I'm sure you lot must have LOVED The Miz. So marketable. He was just born to walk on red carpets, huh? Well, he's back and better than ever! Well, you know, his hair is styled differently so he must be improved, right? Still looks like the same guy who has no heart that I completely obliterated the last time he stepped into a ring with me. I'm really at a loss when trying to figure out the reasoning behind Cena's choices. Some Hollywood wannabe is just going to come strolling back into OUR ring after disappearing for months and expect to do something? The Miz hasn't forgotten what I did to him, I promise you that, and he doesn't want any of me. He remembers me stepping on his throat and leaving him looking like he crawled out of a car wreck. We're just two different people. I bet you couldn't even imagine in your wildest dreams someone like The Miz actually physically dominating someone like me. It's not going to happen. All the hashtags and retweets aren't going to be worth a shit once the bell rings because NO ONE has ever won a match because they trended on twitter..
Ambrose dropped down onto his knee's folded his hands together in a praying formation as he gave a solemn look up towards the sky.
Dean Ambrose: Then we have Trent. Who, by golly, I bet is just going to go out there and give it his all. He's just waiting for that one breakout moment to finally capture his first World Title and make something of himself. He's going to stare my team and prove how he belongs into the upper echelon. And then maybe he'll go home, finally understand what sex is, and have his little soon to be wife give him the time of his life. Maybe he'll say a little prayer, the cloud's will part and God himself will reach down and give him a big thumbs up and that little guy will just be walking on sunshine..
The hands slowly dropped and Ambrose's expression was anything but heavenly, it was much more in line with something Satan himself would be proud of.
Dean Ambrose: Except that there is no God and if there was he would have put Trent out of his misery a long time ago and had him stop breathing before he slimed his way out of his mom. Yeah, maybe he's tougher than he looks, but he ain't tougher than us. If he was smart, he would take his fiance, elope and never show his face again. Live a nice, peaceful life. But, he isn't so he's just going to end up on the pile with the rest of them..
Like something out of a slasher flick, Ambrose crawled his way over to the lone female of the trio and whispered softly to her.
Dean Ambrose: I'm going to need your next participation for this next one..
Both Dean and the woman stood up, obviously she needed his aid to accomplish this. Her back was pressed against his chest and he closed his eyes while wrapping his arms around her shoulders. His height of 6'4'' towered over the diminutive frame of the woman.
Dean Ambrose: John Cena himself. Every single time I've ever stepped into a ring with him I've left him broken. It's not debatable, it's a fact.
He began to lightly the side of his head against her own.
Dean Ambrose: Despite this fact, he's taken cowardly little potshots at me every chance he could get. He's fired off his little child friendly insults and I've stood firm that he's beneath me and not worth my time. I have no reason to fear John Cena because he has nothing on me. He's never been able to be in my presence without ending up face first at my feet. And all his strength, and all of his power have never been able to change that. John Cena has always been able to tear through anyone he's laid eyes on..except for me. But like I said..I've never wasted much energy on him. It's just like an annoying insect buzzing around you. When it gets too close you swat it away but you don't spend your day worrying about it. Until one day..I decided to go a little further with Cena. I met his lovely little girlfriend Dani..
Ambrose lightly nodded his head a few times.
Dean Ambrose: Except there's something John doesn't know. I didn't kidnap Dani. Not like I did to you. No. Dani came to me willingly. She begged and pleaded because she was tired of being with a giant child and wanted and actual man. A man with principals, a man with convictions. So we schemed together a little plan to make it look like I had abducted her. But it was anything but. It was mutual.
His hand slid onto her stomach and then began to dip a little lower.
Dean Ambrose: I brought Dani out with me in front of the crowd. Her body was trembling but not out of fear. It was out of desire. She wanted me so bad that she couldn't stand it. She wanted..every..inch. In front of a live audience. She didn't care who was watching or that it was going to break poor John's heart. There was nothing that could have kept her from me. But..
Ambrose slithered from the blonde and shoved her forward, just as he did to Dani so many months ago while standing amongst the masses. Except on this occasion there was no John Cena to heroically make the save and this poor woman crashed right into the ground.
Dean Ambrose: ..I'm not into little gold digging, blood sucking worthless pieces of trash. Like I would ever, EVER lower myself to the level of some glorified ring rat. And..oh. Your unconscious, aren't you?
He shrugged his shoulders. He wouldn't normally attack women but there were those who deserved such harsh treatment and this was one of them. In his mind only of course. The limp body was drug away by a pair of Shield lackies.
Dean Ambrose: That's too bad because she doesn't get to hear what I have to say about Wes Ikeda..
It was as if all the emotion Ambrose had within his body was threatening to leap out and his breathing began to grow heavy.
Dean Ambrose: Finally, I get him. Not when my back is turned, not when the lights are out, and not when I'm down. Face to face. The entire reason The Shield was created in the first place. Years. Years, I've been waiting for this chance. I've been so patient and diligent and it's about to pay off. So much anguish and suffering is all going to come out in one night..
He started to breathe into his hands to keep himself relaxed. Even the other Shield members, including Reigns, looked a little surprised by this. And this was someone who was known for his random, and seemingly uncontrollable body movements.
Dean Ambrose: I'm not going to lose my mind. Not yet. I'm not going to scream. I'm saving every last bit of it for when I get my hands around his neck. I'm just going to press down..and squeeze..and squeeze..until I can't feel anything and let a little piece of myself die..
His hands had begun to shake.
Dean Ambrose: He can't run and hide anymore. He is going to pay for everything he's ever done and for everything his creation has taken away from me. I'm not even sure what I'm going to do when I'm finished with him. But I do know that I want to save him for last and have him completely watch as everyone protecting him suddenly vanishes. He had better hope and pray that someone, ANYONE pries me off because if he doesn't..if he doesn't..
Ambrose's voice had cracked a few times and his hands were clasping the side of his head. He slowly turned towards his cohorts.
Dean Ambrose: Get out. GET OUT.
Reigns and the other members of The Shield slowly backed out of the room was they were told. With wide eyes, Ambrose looked in the direction he had been using to film all of this. And like some kind of feral, rabid animal he shoved it over and the scene suddenly became a scrambled mess of black and grey.
