We're live inside the Verizon Center, where nearly twenty thousand fans are prepared to see the best action Global Pro Wrestling can provide on its special event, InterAction. Several sensational matches have already occurred, each with a stipulation determined by the GPW fanbase, but one of the most anticipated bouts of the evening is the Elimination Chamber Six-Man Tag featuring the three members of House Midnight against Chris Chambers and a tag team that is to be determined. As the cameras show the ominous Elimination Chamber cage structure looming over the arena like a dark cloud, the arena's lights suddenly dim and shift to midnight blue as the sound of haunting bells echo throughout the building. Twelve chimes from the chilling bells leads to the emergence of Priest, Caballero, and Shoen from the shadowy rafters, as they lean on the railings and also tower over the thousands of fans inside the Verizon Center. The three members of the nefarious House Midnight are dressed in their dark wrestling garb and each bear looks of grit and determination etched on their haggard faces. The Washington, D.C. crowd murmurs amongst themselves as there is an awkward and minacious silence that has befallen the entire arena. The Dark Horse is the first to break his silence, staring at the steel structure as he speaks to the world. Christopher Shoen: Something about cold steel chains and glass that's just begging to be broken basking in the glow of hazy dark blue stadium lights makes the hair stand on the back of my neck in a very good way... What the hell? The fans aren't really sure what to make of that. Fortunately, they don't really have to think much of it, as The Black Sheep is still talking. Christopher Shoen: Really takes me back to my childhood, the abuse of my father... the chicken coop that started as a torture chamber but became my hideout... my haven... my sanctuary. But I'm sorry to say, Chris Chambers, those steel walls and glass panels will afford you no asylum tonight. As much as you may fight this, as diligently as you may decry this, our fates are intertwined... our destinies combined... We haven't merely crossed each others' paths. We're on the same journey, Chris, you and I, and I am your guide. I am your Sherpa, leading you up the treacherous and winding edges of the mountain, helping you climb to the pinnacle of your potential... and then watching as the oxygen deprivation takes its toll once you reach the higher altitude. I watch you fight the inevitable like the stubborn being you are, until eventually you succumb to the sweet release of death and I surpass your greatest achievements by reaching the very top of the mountain and plant the flag of House Midnight. A cold cackle is emitted from Shoen, who wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his tattered coat. The Dark Horse places a boot on the lower rung of the railing, peering over the edge and gazing toward a crowd that clearly detests him. Christopher Shoen: It's a shame the children will weep as they witness what happens to you tonight, Chambers... No, it's not their tears that will bring sadness to my heart. It's the reason behind them. A single drop from a child's eye is more than you're worth, because this is a direct result of your own insolence. You're responsible for all of this, Chambers, you phoenix. Time and again, you're reduced to ash, but time and again, you're reincarnated, you stubborn bird... But tonight, you're no longer a majestic fire eagle. You're more like Icarus, flying so close to the sun just for your wax wings to melt as you fall into the ocean, sinking slowly... You flail helplessly, struggling to stay afloat, but three albatrosses drag you to the muddy depths. They wrap around you, tying around your neck and throttling you, dragging you deep into the ocean as the water surrounds you. You fight it, but the pressure causes your chest to slowly cave in. You feel like you're suffocating as you gasp for breath and get nothing but salty water filling the void of your lungs, causing you to asphyxiate and drown, plummeting to the ocean floor, where you're eaten by a pack of piranhas. Shoen is practically laughing out loud now at his odd stories, finally shaking his head and then banging it off the top of the railing a few times. Christopher Shoen: Can't get it through your thick skull, can you, Chrissy? Tonight's match may be three-on-three, but all things are not created equal. Look at me... Look at my brothers! These are the men I trust with my life, Chris. These are the men who not only know my darkest secrets, but they've embraced them. These are the two men with whom I've made a pact... forged a bond... created a shelter for the men like us who have been discarded by society. Then look at... your team. Oh, that's right... You don't even know who the hell your partners are going to be. It doesn't really matter anyway, though, does it? We've already beaten the so-called Sinister Siblings, showing that blood may be thicker than water, but nothing is stronger than the link between House Midnight. Bruce Bishop and Nemesis might look like monsters to most people, but we see inside them, to their deepest fears, their insecurities... We can cut the scars and reopen old wounds... They're the kind of monsters you thought hid under your beds and in your closets, but were just a figment of your imagination. I never had time to have a nightmare because I always felt like I was living in one! When your real life was as bad as ours, when you've been subjected to the never-ending torment the likes of Vincent Caballero or have the heartache of lost loved ones like Adam Priest, you aren't afraid of monsters. You become one. Looking very much the part of a monster right now, Shoen leans over the railing and tilts his head toward either side of the arena, gazing toward all of the fans in the building tonight as they curse his name. Christopher Shoen: On Octane, we showed the world that Dragoneer may be a rockstar with worldwide acclaim, who's trendy and fashionable, with a perfect family at home, the wife and the kids, the upper class home, the white picket fence, the dog, living the life... but it's all a facade. Deep down inside, Dragoneer pretends to be a nice guy, but he's a fraud. He's a man whose insecurities and delusions lead to him constantly claiming he's the best wrestler in the world. Dragoneer thinks because he's studied some film and trained in the gym that he's the best. Dave Cashman believes that since he comes from an honorable, traditional martial arts background, that he's the best. We don't need to pretend to be the best at anything. I'm not the best wrestler, and do you know why, Dragoneer? Do you know why, Cashman? I'm sure you could each list a thousand reasons, but none of them would be right. I'm not the best... because Trent Eden doesn't promote me as the best. I'm not the best because I don't have some buzz word attached to my name. I don't have some killer catchphrase. There's not a bunch of House Midnight merchandise available on GPW's website. The fact is, Trent Eden and the GPW board don't even want to give us any air time or let us wrestle, but they don't have a goddamn choice because no matter who they line up with the label of being the ?best?, we knock them down. We drag them down to our level, the dirty, grimy underworld, where our pain and our misery actually helps us, and we beat you with experience. So, you can proclaim you're the best in the world, or a great martial artist, and we'll still beat you, because we're better than the best. ZERO likes to play vigilante and right the wrongs in the world, but he's been fighting on the wrong side this whole time. We're the ones who are fixing the problems in the sport of professional wrestling, while cowards like ZERO are content with being sycophants and sheep. And if Brad Barnes knows what's good for him, he'll do everything he can to get out of this poll. If you don't, then your first match in Global Pro Wrestling... will be your last. One might think Shoen is joking, but judging by the sober expression on his face, one would be mistaken. Christopher Shoen: We're better than any makeshift team. We're better than any faction or any stable or even any family. We're House Midnight. We're unique. We don't do labels, and we don't lose to three thrown-together opponents who have nothing in common, who haven't forged a bond like we have. One-by-one, you each will fall... And House Midnight will save you all. The Black Sheep slowly backs away from the railing, returning to the shadowy sections of the rafters and leaving the foreground for one of his compatriots as center stage to air their thoughts. OOC: Z.O. or A.J.?