If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
________________________________
(A/N: Also everyone I have a new novel a Dragon Age Inquisition novel named "From Couch To The Inquisitor", be sure to check it out and give some power stone)
...
Then, moving to a silent, horrifying rhythm only he could hear, Bray Wyatt began to dance. He spun the unconscious champion around, taking slow, deliberate waltz steps toward the dead center of the ring. He hummed a low, haunting melody that the ringside microphones picked up clearly. It was a macabre, deeply unsettling display of psychological warfare. "This is sickening!" JBL complained, a genuine shudder running through his frame. "He is playing with his food! The referee needs to stop this!"
"He is breaking the God King," Lawler replied softly, completely captivated by the horrifying visual. "He promised to swallow his mountain, and right now, Bray Wyatt is dancing on the summit."
Bray reached the center of the canvas. He stopped spinning. He looked down at Sandro's face, which was pale and completely unresponsive.
Bray let go of Sandro's hand, instantly hooking the champion's head and arm, pulling him effortlessly back into the grip of Sister Abigail. Bray didn't kiss him this time. He just smiled, looking directly into the hard camera, and drove Sandro's face into the canvas for a second, catastrophic time!
The ring physically shook from the sheer force of the impact.
But Bray still didn't drop for the pinfall.
Instead, the Eater of Worlds sat up. He raised his right hand, flexing the dark, heavily textured, parasitic glove. The raised, infected red veins seemed to pulse under the bright arena lights.
The Accor Arena exploded with a deafening roar of pure anticipation. They knew exactly what was coming.
Bray lunged forward, throwing himself on top of Sandro's chest. He thrust his right hand directly into the champion's open mouth, locking his fingers tightly under Sandro's tongue and clamping down violently on the sensitive nerve in his jaw, applying the legendary Mandible Claw yet again!
"HE HAS THE CLAW!" Cole screamed at the top of his lungs. "THE MANDIBLE CLAW IS LOCKED IN AGAIN! BRAY WYATT IS SQUEEZING THE LIFE OUT OF THE CHAMPION!"
Sandro's eyes snapped wide open in sheer terror. A muffled, gurgling scream escaped his lips as the agonizing pain ripped through his skull. He thrashed wildly on the mat, his legs kicking out, grabbing Bray's arm with both hands, trying desperately to pry the foul tasting glove out of his mouth.
But Bray's grip was absolute. The monster leaned his heavy body weight down, applying maximum pressure to the nerve, a look of pure, sadistic joy frozen on his face.
Sandro was trapped. The physical toll of the grueling forty minute war, the two Sister Abigails, and the agonizing submission hold were finally breaking the most dominant champion in recent history.
"Tap out, Sandro! Just tap!" JBL begged, tears of frustration welling in his eyes. "Live to fight another day!"
Sandro Zhang refused to tap. Operating on the last remaining fumes of his pride, the God King reached his right hand out. He clawed blindly at the ring canvas, dragging his heavy, broken body forward. Inch by agonizing inch, he tried to pull both himself and the massive challenger toward the ropes.
"Look at the heart of the champion!" Lawler yelled. "He is trying to reach the ropes!"
Sandro's fingertips brushed the bottom rope. The crowd gasped.
But Bray simply shifted his weight, wrapping his thick legs around Sandro's waist in a tight body scissors, cutting off the champion's leverage and pulling him back into the dead center of the ring.
Sandro's struggles began to slow. The frantic thrashing turned into weak, uncoordinated swats against Bray's thick forearm. A thick white foam began to form at the corners of Sandro's mouth. His eyes fluttered, rolling back in his head as the oxygen supply to his brain was completely cut off by the immense pressure.
His hand, once desperately reaching for salvation, slowly dropped to the canvas, completely limp.
The referee dropped to his knees, getting right in Sandro's face. The official grabbed Sandro's wrist, lifting the champion's arm into the air, and let it go.
It dropped heavily to the mat.
The crowd held their collective breath.
"That's one," Cole whispered.
The referee lifted the arm a second time. He let it go.
It dropped limply to the canvas.
"That's two," Lawler added, the tension in his voice unbearable.
"Come on, Sandro! Wake up!" JBL screamed, his voice cracking with sheer desperation.
The referee lifted Sandro's arm for the third and final time. He held it high, waiting for any sign of life, any twitch of muscle, any burst of adrenaline.
Nothing.
The referee let the arm go. It crashed lifelessly onto the ring mat.
The official immediately jumped up and frantically waved for the bell.
DING! DING! DING!
The haunting, acoustic strum of Live in Fear hit the stadium speakers, instantly drowned out by the visceral, overwhelming, deafening roar of the Parisian crowd. The Accor Arena absolutely exploded in a mixture of shock, joy, and sheer disbelief.
"He did it!" Cole screamed, his voice completely raw. "Bray Wyatt did it! The Eater of Worlds has swallowed the mountain! Bray Wyatt is the new World Heavyweight Champion!"
"I cannot believe what I just witnessed!" Lawler cheered, applauding wildly from the desk. "We just watched an absolute masterpiece! A legendary classic! Sandro Zhang gave everything he had, but he could not survive the darkness of Bray Wyatt yet again, like how he lost his FCW title to Bray!"
"This is a tragedy!" JBL cried out, burying his face in his hands, completely devastated by the outcome. "Sandro Zhang was robbed! He was isolated and ambushed by a freak of nature!"
Inside the ring, Bray Wyatt slowly released the hold, rolling off the unconscious champion. He pushed himself up to his knees, running a hand through his sweat soaked hair. The dark, manic smile returned to his face.
The referee retrieved the massive World Heavyweight Championship, bringing it into the ring. He cautiously approached Bray, handing the heavy gold belt to the monster.
Bray grabbed the title. He didn't raise it immediately. He held it against his chest, cradling it like a newborn child, rocking back and forth on his knees.
"Think about the history we just witnessed tonight," Cole said, his tone shifting to a serious, reverent register as the broadcast camera zoomed in on the new champion. "Sandro Zhang's reign as the World Heavyweight Champion officially ends at two hundred and eighty one days."
"Two hundred and eighty one days," Lawler repeated, shaking his head in awe. "He was so close."
"He was just one day shy of breaking Batista's record of two hundred and eighty two days," Cole confirmed, emphasizing the historic magnitude of the loss. "Sandro Zhang falls just short, securing his legacy as the second longest reigning World Heavyweight Champion in WWE history. It is a phenomenal achievement, but it will haunt him for the rest of his life that he came so close to the ultimate record."
"He is still the WWE Champion!" JBL argued fiercely, refusing to let the God King's legacy die. "He still holds the gold! This is just a roadblock!"
"He may still hold the WWE Championship, John, but the aura of invincibility has been shattered," Lawler T noted grimly. "Bray Wyatt proved tonight that Sandro Zhang is a mortal man who can be put to sleep just like anybody else."
Bray pushed himself up to his feet. He walked to the center of the ring, stepping directly over the motionless, broken body of Sandro Zhang. Bray raised the World Heavyweight Championship high into the air, throwing his head back and letting out a long, echoing, chilling laugh that resonated through the arena.
The camera pulled back, capturing the terrifying visual of the Eater of Worlds standing triumphant over the fallen God King, holding the ultimate prize.
"Bray Wyatt stands on top of the world," Cole said quietly, the broadcast slowly fading to black on the haunting image. "But the night is not over yet. As in the shadows, there's Captain Charisma who was watching and laying in wait, will he cash in tonight nor not?"
Bray Wyatt remained on his knees in the center of the ring, the heavy gold of the World Heavyweight Championship pressed firmly against his chest. His breathing was ragged, his dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, but the manic, unsettling joy in his eyes was blinding. He slowly lowered his head, pressing his lips against the cool leather strap of the title, kissing it with a dark reverence.
He had done exactly what he promised. He had swallowed the mountain.
Bray slowly pushed himself up, resting on his haunches. He looked down at the completely unconscious, broken body of Sandro Zhang. The God King lay flat on his back, a thick trail of white foam still lingering at the corner of his mouth from the suffocating grip of the Mandible Claw. Bray leaned over the fallen champion, spreading his arms wide in a twisted, macabre pose of salvation, bathing in the sheer adulation of the Parisian crowd.
The Accor Arena recognized the grueling, thirty five minute masterpiece they had just witnessed. A slow, rhythmic clapping began in the front rows, quickly spreading like wildfire through the thousands of fans in attendance.
"YOU DESERVE IT!" Clap, clap, clap clap clap.
"YOU DESERVE IT!"
Bray closed his eyes, soaking in the thunderous chant, his wide smile stretching from ear to ear.
Suddenly, a blaring, heavy guitar riff ripped through the stadium speakers, instantly shattering the haunting atmosphere.
The crowd erupted into an absolute frenzy of cheers. Captain Charisma had arrived.
Bray's smile vanished instantly. He dropped his arms, his eyes snapping open. He pushed himself up to a vertical base with surprising speed for a man who had just gone through a war. He scooped up his newly won World Heavyweight Championship, clutching it in his left hand, and turned to face the entrance stage, his body coiled and ready for a fight.
The fans cheered louder, expecting Christian to walk through the curtain and march down the steel ramp. Bray stared intensely at the stage, waiting for his challenger to appear.
But Christian didn't come from the stage.
A figure wearing dark jeans and a black zip up hoodie suddenly leaped over the security barricade on the hard camera side of the ring. Christian scrambled onto the ring apron, clutching the silver Money in the Bank briefcase tightly in his right hand.
He slid quietly under the bottom rope, stalking up right behind the Eater of Worlds.
The crowd's cheers morphed into a frantic, chaotic buzz as they realized the ambush was happening. Bray, sensing the shift in the crowd's energy, began to turn around.
He was a fraction of a second too late.
Christian swung the heavy silver briefcase with maximum velocity, driving the reinforced steel edges directly into the back of Bray Wyatt's skull. The sickening metallic crunch echoed through the arena.
A mixture of loud cheers and scattered, conflicted boos washed over the ring. The fans adored Christian, but Bray had just won them over with a legendary performance, and the opportunistic strike felt incredibly jarring.
Bray dropped to his knees, dropping the World Heavyweight Championship, his hands flying to the back of his head. Christian didn't show an ounce of mercy. He began ruthlessly stomping on Bray's back and shoulders, raining down heavy boots to keep the monster grounded. Christian backed up, gripping the briefcase with both hands, and swung it like a baseball bat, driving it squarely into Bray's ribs.
The Eater of Worlds collapsed, rolling out under the bottom rope and tumbling down to the ringside floor, completely incapacitated.
Christian dropped the dented briefcase on the canvas, his chest heaving, his eyes wild with adrenaline.
Referee John Cone quickly slid back into the ring, waving his arms frantically. He grabbed Christian by the shoulder, pointing down at the briefcase.
"Are you doing it?!" the official yelled over the deafening crowd noise. "Are you cashing it in right now?!"
Christian took a deep breath, looking down at the briefcase, and then looked at the two bodies in his vicinity. He walked over to the ropes, looking down at Bray Wyatt, who was clutching his ribs on the floor, the World Heavyweight Championship resting near him.
Then, Christian slowly turned around. He looked at the dead center of the ring, where Sandro Zhang was still lying completely motionless, the WWE Championship resting near the turnbuckles where the referee had left it before the match began.
The sheer gravity of the moment hit everyone in the building simultaneously. Christian didn't just have an opportunity; he had a choice.
"Look at this!" Cole shrieked, standing up at the commentary desk. "Christian has a decision to make! He can cash in on the new World Heavyweight Champion, or he can cash in on the WWE Champion!"
"Take Bray! Cash it in on Bray Wyatt!" JBL begged frantically, his voice cracking with desperation as he realized the extreme danger Sandro was in. "Bray is a monster! Take him out while he is down! The big shiny gold belt is the real prize, Christian! Do the smart thing!"
"Do not listen to him, Christian!" Lawler yelled back, pointing at the ring. "Look at Sandro Zhang! Look at the God King! He has been the WWE Champion for three hundred and sixty four days! Tomorrow marks one full year! You can end his reign right here, right now! You can break his empire!"
"Sandro Zhang is completely unconscious!" Cole added, practically losing his mind. "He took two Sister Abigails and the Mandible Claw! He is ripe for the picking! End the God King's reign, Christian!"
Inside the ring, Christian paced back and forth, running a frantic hand through his hair. He looked at Bray. He looked at Sandro. The Parisian crowd was on their feet, screaming at the top of their lungs, offering their own chaotic advice.
"SAN-DRO! SAN-DRO!" Half the arena chanted.
"BRAY! BRAY! BRAY!" The other half countered.
Christian stopped pacing. He looked down at Sandro Zhang, the man who had terrorized the locker room, the man who had bought his way to the top of the industry and treated veterans with absolute disdain. Christian bent down, picking up the silver briefcase.
He walked directly up to the referee and shoved the briefcase hard into the official's chest.
"Him!" Christian shouted, pointing a firm, aggressive finger directly down at the motionless body of the God King. "I want him!"
The Accor Arena exploded!
"He is cashing in on Sandro!" Cole screamed, his voice breaking. "He is going for the WWE Championship!"
"No! No, you coward! Fight a conscious man!" JBL shrieked, burying his face in his hands, completely devastated.
The referee grabbed the briefcase, nodding his head. He rolled out of the ring, handing the contract to the timekeeper, and frantically motioned for Justin Roberts.
Roberts raised his microphone, his voice booming through the PA system, cutting through the absolute chaos.
"Ladies and gentlemen... Christian is officially cashing in his Money in the Bank contract!" Roberts announced, the crowd roaring with every word. "The following contest is scheduled for one fall... and it is for the WWE Championship!"
The referee slid back into the ring. He looked at Sandro, ensuring the champion was technically inside the ropes, before raising his hand to the timekeeper.
DING! DING! DING!
Christian didn't waste a single microsecond. He grabbed Sandro by the back of the neck and the waistband of his trunks, hauling the dead weight of the champion up from the canvas. Sandro's legs were completely like jelly, his eyes rolled back in his head.
Christian hooked Sandro's arms from behind, spinning his own body around, and drove the God King face first into the canvas with a devastating Killswitch!
The crowd cheered, fully expecting the pinfall.
But Christian wasn't taking any chances. He knew the legendary, supernatural resilience of Sandro Zhang. He knew the champion had just kicked out of Bray Wyatt's finishing move moments earlier.
Christian pushed himself up, his eyes burning with absolute focus. He grabbed Sandro by the hair, dragging the limp champion back up to his feet for a second time. Christian hooked the arms again, locked the hold in tight, and drove Sandro brutally into the mat with a second consecutive Killswitch!
Christian flipped Sandro onto his back. He hooked both of the champion's heavy legs, leaning all of his body weight down, staring up at the arena lights.
The referee dropped to the canvas, his hand slapping the blue mat.
"ONE!"
The entire Parisian crowd shouted in unison.
"TWO!"
The noise level reached an earth shattering pitch.
"THREE!"
DING! DING! DING!
The upbeat, triumphant rock anthem Just Close Your Eyes blasted through the stadium speakers, instantly drowned out by a deafening, historic roar of pure, unadulterated euphoria from the thousands of fans in attendance.
"HE DID IT! HE DID IT!" Cole screamed, tears of sheer excitement welling in his eyes. "CHRISTIAN IS THE NEW WWE CHAMPION! THE GOD KING HAS FALLEN! THE EMPIRE HAS CRUMBLED!"
"I cannot believe what I am seeing!" Lawler yelled, throwing his hands in the air, his voice completely raw. "In a single night! In the span of five minutes! Sandro Zhang has lost absolutely everything!"
"This is the darkest day in the history of this company!" JBL sobbed into his microphone, his cowboy hat sitting askew on his head, a look of profound, genuine despair on his face. "It is a conspiracy! Mick Foley planned this! He isolated Sandro! He fed him to a monster, and he let a vulture pick the bones clean! Sandro Zhang is a victim of a corporate hit job!"
Inside the ring, Christian rolled off the fallen God King. He dropped to his knees, burying his face in his hands, completely overwhelmed by the magnitude of the moment. The referee retrieved the WWE Championship, walking over and kneeling beside the veteran.
The official handed the prestigious title to Christian. Captain Charisma grabbed it, pulling it tightly against his chest, tears streaming down his face. He stood up, climbing the nearest turnbuckle, and raised the WWE Championship high into the Parisian night, drawing another massive, echoing roar of approval.
"Think about the devastating reality of this night for Sandro Zhang," Cole said, his tone shifting into a serious, reverent register as he analyzed the fallout. "He walked into this building carrying the two richest prizes in the industry. He was the undisputed ruler of the wrestling world. And he leaves Paris with absolutely nothing."
"It is a psychological blow that I don't know if he can ever recover from," Lawler agreed, shaking his head slowly as the camera zoomed in on Sandro's motionless body. "He lost the World Heavyweight Championship after two hundred and eighty one days. He was twenty four hours away from tying Batista's all time record. Twenty four hours! And he missed it."
"And the WWE Championship," Cole continued, emphasizing the sheer heartbreak of the statistics. "Sandro held that title for three hundred and sixty four days. Tomorrow, he would have celebrated one full, uninterrupted year as the WWE Champion in his very first reign. A milestone that almost no one in history has ever reached. And Christian snatched it away at the absolute last possible moment."
_______________________________
Name: Alessandro Zhang
Age: 21 (2011)
Birthplace: Orlando, Florida, USA
Brand: WWE - RAW
Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Styles
Faction: The Undisputed System
Championships History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions, 1x FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion, 1x TNA World Heavyweight Champion, 1x TNA X Division Champion, 1x WWE US Champion, 1x WWE Champion (364 Days -1st), & 1x World Heavyweight Champion (281 Days - 1st)
Other Achievements: 1x Inaugural Andre the Giant Memorial Battle Royale Winner, 1x Mr. Money In The Bank, Youngest WWE Champion, PWI Top 500 (No.1) - 2010, 1x KOTR (2010), Youngest World Heavyweight Champion, Youngest Triple Crown Champion, & Longest US Title reign In WWE History (376 Days - 1st reign)
Wrestlemania Record: 2 - 0 Main Event: 1 - 0