Great Blasphemies

As the rotting green jon boat moves through the cold murky waters, The Baphomet stops paddling to check his compass. He drops one paddle into the water making the boat shift to the left before he begins paddling again, correcting the direction.

The Island hides in a thick fog, each breath he exalts turns into a cloud of it's own as he pants his way into the midst of it; his breath merging with the lingering cast of vapor.

Once docked, he pulls the boat onto the bank of the island. He's come, on this cold day, to Castle Redemption, a privately owned island that hides in plain sight as the order itself has mastered throughout the centuries.

Across from the shore, without fog, only the lights of a Casino could be seen across the bay and for those who manages to land on this island lack the knowledge of the secret Castle's entrance; only one knows it's secrets and he has arrived to meet with Her once again.

"My Goddess..." Baphomet speaks out, allowing his hulking weight to drop freely to his knees, bowing his head in respect. He hears nothing at first, as always, and instead patiently watches the flickering of candles dance through his eyelids.

He hears a subtle frequency sting his ears and he tenses up as he awaits Her voice.

"You have returned, Baphomet. I trust you bring good tidings of your progress this time?" The Goat of Mendes statue animates on the screen before him, he looks up with delight in his expression.

"Indeed, I do." Baphomet stands, "Since being afforded the opportunity to pursue our ambitions by my design, we have advanced much faster than we could have dreamed."

The Goat leans forward from where it sits as if about to poke it's head through the screen itself and Baphomet becomes anxious, until it simply begins to speak.

"I am capable of deep, expansive dreams, Baphomet. Please, test those limits and tell me what you have since accomplished."

Sitting back again, the goat awaits the Baphomet's response. While bringing himself to resolve, Baphomet begins collecting his thoughts before presenting them.

"Phase one is near completion. The seeds have been cultivated and have begun to sprout in their fertile soil. A she-wolf named Lycana is a promising addition to our order... her thirst for violence is admirable and insatiable. However, another has intrigued me greatly. There's is a true darkness inside of her screaming to be free... she will truly bring our order to the forefront of the XWF. There is, however, a woman that drives this anger inside of her... they call her a queen... but a false queen."

The statue of the Goat seems to perk up at the thought.

"If this she-wolf is as you say, she will indeed be a boon to our ranks. But a queen? Dear Baphomet, if you intend to worship any being save for me, I would hope you reconsider. Now tell me more about this so-called queen."
Baphomet nearly stutters, "Forgive me! I misspoke, please let me explain myself!"

The left hand of the goat clenches into a fist before opening back up in a gesture to permit his explanation.

"Worship her not, my queen..." Baphomet bows his head at the mere thought of Her disapproval, "My sincerest apologies, my Goddess."

The goat's hand returns to it's side.

"Your words please me, my child. Worry not, and continue."

The Baphomet lifts his head high as before, proudly preparing to rave about his first recruit.
"This queen I speak of, this... false queen... A mortal named Jenny Myst. She drives the anger of an Ash Quinn, my recruit to our order." Baphomet explains, "This queen of pink is disillusioned by her own materialism and ego, what would seem as a perfect quality for our kind, serves only her individual ambitions... she hides behind a mask of Queenship but inside she lacks true knowledge of existence. Instead! I helped this Ash Quinn to direct her fury to dethrone this queen as a symbolic gesture of her turn to the dark... A queen of the ashes in our ranks, but not a goddess." Baphomet bows again.

"My little Baphomet, playing Queenmaker," the voice chuckles. "You really are coming into your own, aren't you?"

Baphomet feels an anger begin to rise from within, but quickly snuffs it, remembering this goddess wasn't all-knowing, or She would know the Baphomet was more than what he had seemed.

"I trust your guidance in the matter, then. Guide this Ash Queen to victory and, in doing so, teach her the embrace of the dark." It pauses. "And what of the other organizations? Our shadow must not simply fall over XWF, you know."

"The Horsemen are rising as we speak." Baphomet rejoices, "In two weeks time, the Left Hand has contaminated the wrestling world in such a way that would make Dermot Winterdawn tremble in his tomb. It won't be long now before The Left Hand has once again regained it's stranglehold on humanity and phase two will be primed to begin."

"These are bold claims, young one, and perhaps I will ask Sir Winterdawn how he feels of this progress myself. For my part, however, I am quite satisfied. Your work has not gone unnoticed, and will likewise not go unrewarded." A pause. "There is, however, one matter that needs be addressed, and it would behoove us all if this matter is addressed sooner than later. A matter of one Erin Wallace. Know you the name?"

"Her again." Baphomet remembers, "Why didn't we remove her from the equation before! What has she meddled in now?"

"My divination has confirmed she has poked her head into our business once again. She is searching for information regarding us and our plans, and must be stopped, one way or another. I trust you have the capacity to take care of something like this, as well?"

"You know my abilities are vast but to leave the XWF now would be undermining our momentum... surely, there is another way to address this Erin Wallace. She's only a small mortal threat, is she not?"

"It is my experience that the smallest threats are often the ones that come around to undermine in the most unexpected of ways, young one. Simply keep an eye on her now, if you can do no more. You may find it even easier than you expected, now that the foolish mortal named Romeo has put his poisonous presence in the XWF. "

"Romeo." Baphomet responds, "What does this fool have to do with Erin Wallace?"

"Remnants of dying communion." The voice says, "She has asked questions. She has planted her own seeds in Romeo's thoughts. Thoughts that have grown into... interest."

"He's the one that foiled the Legacy?" Baphomet realizes.

"He and she must not be permitted to bring light to our dark ways," The Goat speaks sternly, "not until we have reached the point of no return, only then, their resistance would be of no use."

"I will do what is necessary, my Goddess." Baphomet pledges.

"Good. In return, I shall bestow upon you a gift that will help your current work greatly."

"I will find a way to please you, my Goddess." Baphomet, "A Christmas gift, my queen?"

A darkly musical laugh. "The feasts I serve are much older and more meaningful than the fictitious birth of a false God, Baphomet, and my gifts are all the more impressive for it. I shall bestow upon you the technology of mortals at its most direct - control of the television waves themselves. A supposed enemy and unwitting acolyte of mine acquired this power, and as I have taken it from him, so I grant it to you. His star has fallen so that yours may rise. With this power, you will be able to disrupt the programming of any network you desire to spread your dark message farther than you ever could before. I trust you will use this gift wisely, knowing that it will give me great pleasure to see the results. You do wish to please me, don't you, Baphomet?"

"More than anything, my Goddess..." Baphomet falls to his knees, "Thank you, my Queen. I will not take this gift lightly. I will use it accordingly and effectively to weaken the sheep false sense of security!"

"I have taken the liberty of providing you with the means to do this right here from Castle Redemption." The goat says, beginning to lift it's left hand in the air, Baphomet does the same, "From here you may utilize our tools of propaganda to infest the minds of men and women alike."

"Thank you, my Goddess." Baphomet nods.

"Then go, my child. Do as you say you will, and give me the gift of your success when it is done." The animated goat returns to it's normal form before Her voice is no more.

Baphomet wanders around the plethora of burning candles finding a closed suitcase waiting for him. He pulls it in front of the glare radiating from the candles and unbuckles the sides.

As he opens it up, the light glimmers off of it's CTN logo on the surface. His eyes narrow as he peeks into it's dark contents and when realized, a grin crawls across his face before shutting it.

With this technology, he thinks, the possibilities are endless. To control media, he thinks, is to control the narrative. A perfect tool for our order to initiate the global shift into our inevitable system, but first... phase one must commence.
First, Alias. Then, Anarchy.

The video propaganda that Baphomet records now, like any propaganda in the future, would be hosted by Castle Redemption. When the camera begins to record, The Baphomet begins speaking with the full intent of sharing what is said with the XWF and the world alike.

He speaks.

"The man who has no identity; the one others call "Alias". When I studied the XWF to find applicable candidates for the Left Hand, what intrigued me about you was your endurance to pain and your unpredictability. Qualities I share, but it seems that your lack of insight had trumped those characteristics when you decided to deny my invitation."

Baphomet takes a moment to shake his head in regret.

"A paradox of a man... 'consistently inconsistent' but what will be a trustworthy thread in the fabric of your future is the consequences of your poor decision making at High Stakes."

Funny, he thinks.

"Was it an attempt to humor me, Alias, when instead of lifting a left hand to pledge allegiance, you lifted your right? This, I would normally interpret as a blasphemy of my great order but I understand, this wasn't done in malice... but in ignorance. It's often, I'm dismissed and underestimated, and I take no personal offense to such mediocrity. It's telling, more than anything, that you are disaligned with your own energies... and because of that, you are equivalent to a Neanderthal comprehending an interdimensional being. It's your primitive nature... your miseducation, and in my opinion, that is no fault of your own! You are a product of this humankind's customs... vulnerable, most likely a disturbed childhood that wreaks havoc on your fight or flight response, and in turn, you hide behind a comedic mask. I tried to help you take that vulernability and turn it into energy but your cowardice prevailed."

Weak, he thinks.

"Even then, I provided you another chance. I protected you against Atara, throwing her out of the ring, but you decided to, once again, raise a right hand. At this point, it was interpreted as a great blasphemy. Now, because of your actions, you find yourself in a compromising situation.. You become the first demonstration of my awesome and terrible reign of malevolence only this time, you cannot simply evade my vengeance."

He's reminded of an old adage.

"Like the cat with nine lives, you've been quick on your feet, long before I came along I'm sure but eventually, the cat finds himself without feet to stand on... what then, will you land on now that you have fallen before me."

But, he understands.

"Some of us engulf ourselves with the suffering that comes with existence... others hide behind the mask of a sad clown. Alias mocks his own existence to cope with the missing elements that provide meaningful purpose... a joker. At High Stakes, I gave Alias the opportunity to snuff out his defense mechanisms, and begin restoring the purpose in his existence but he retreated, yet again, behind his mask."

Coward, he thinks.

"Perhaps now, it's time to see behind the mask. Perhaps now, it's time to forcefully remove the disguise protecting your fragile existence and with your blood exposed for the world to see, the alias will dissipate into the air of unavoidable revelation... and his identity will be bare for the XWF and world to recognize as it truly is... insignificant. "

A sadistic smile crosses his face.

"I deny your existence, Alias and even as you roam around in a vessel of flesh, words aimlessly pouring from the untamed mouth of your facade, you are a mere bag of meat with a potential unutilized; a waste of mortal blood. Blood you don't deserve, and so, we will meet at Warfare, and on behalf of the dark, I will evacuate the undeserved life-force from your wandering host."

What intuition, he admires.

"First blood. How interesting that even those who booked this match could sense what's to come. It could go left unsaid that Alias will be the first blood I spill, but certainly not the last, and certainly not the most undeserving of it. Like a tiger I have come at night and forced my way into your village, stalking the unexpected innocence, and like a savage, relentlessly slashing through each and every one of you. The fertile grounds, red and slippery as those who come after dare to wonder who could inflict so much brutality and why... but soon, it'll be clear. The Baphomet."

He raises his left hand, a palm with a thousand scars from a thousand blades.

"Those who have joined me... they already know very well what I am. The nonbelievers, those who have dismissed my warnings, and those too unwise to sense the inevitable undoing of everything they know... it will soon be undeniable. It will soon become very real for them and only then will their masks come off. Only then, will they begin to take things more seriously... but by then, it will be far too late."

It might be already, he ponders.

"Ash Quinn was the first to believe in me as much as I believe in her! Something very intriguing has attracted me to her; something deep inside of her soul that yearns to breathe its own oxygen and rise beyond it's own limitations.. An eruption of infernal energy that has grown insatiable, but restricted. I will break open her previously unutilized potential and free her spirit to consume all those who oppose... a boundless reach to scorch the very earth they've walked on for too long unafraid but afraid, they will be."

The Baphomet swells with pride.

"As The Queen of Ashes ventures further into the abyss, a trail of despair left behind her will be the only legacy left of those who resist her rule. A queen of hellfire, setting the XWF ablaze by purging our enemies and snuffing their light. Nothing will be left when our queen has finished... and her fury will be soon realized when she descends upon Savage, bringing a fire so fierce, Tula will believe Pele herself has emerged before her."

His hands float to each side like lava flowing in both directions.

"As for Lycana. It should be no surprise that someone with her fascination of violence and the pleasure she enjoys from enduring pain would find meaning in the dark. Like the hungry wolf, she lures her prey into a place they feel safe, and then strikes with furious prejudice. There's a cold hatred within her, misleading the sheep with sexual prowess, before eating them whole. A Wolf in sheep's clothing... beware... she will only hunt for herself... and the alpha."

A single scolding finger aimed at the viewer, a fair warning.

"The blood of the weak will flood the XWF.. And the sheep will drown underneath the surface where only the dark is free to breathe. It won't be long now before our plans have been realized and once I have properly positioned the Left Hand, once again, at the helm of humanity... the enemies of darkness will be at our mercy."

Funny, he thinks again.
"Mercy. It's a funny word that could give XWF the wrong impression of us. We aren't here to wage war with XWF, we are only here to seek out the most violent natures and bring about those raw instincts front and center as a badge to wear proudly. It's much bigger than money, or titles, or these material 'necessities'."

Hold your tongue, he tells himself.

"I better not divulge too much about where we are all going, for, the world will soon bear witness to our revelations." The Baphomet back-peddles his words, "I will give a warning to one, however."

Romeo.

"Mr. Romeo," The Baphomet begins, "I will give you the option, as I have given so many others before you that have failed to take it themselves, retreat. Undo whatever pledges you have made, remove your contracts from negotiations, and evacuate this organization as soon as possible. This is your Only warning, and if you fail to heed it, our next interaction will be a less cordial one."

He digresses.

"As for Alias. The stench omitting from your lack of conviction Smells Like Teen Spirit, not fully developed, and lacking the evolution to grow... even as the peers of your garden find themselves In Bloom, Alias, you may only Come As You Are- an outcast, an outsider, a different Breed of man with a depressed mind to rely on Lithium to remain "able" to coexist in this microcosm of society. Despite your willingness to disobey, as you are forced into submission, a more fitting name for the tamed 'Alias' would be Polly; an obedient servant to parrot The Left Hand's doctrines. Alas, your Territorial Pissings? Impotent attempts to mark your relevance, the Left Hand will, like everyone else, Drain You of whatever resistance you wish to conjure. Your Lounge Act of carelessness will become the sudden and wise choice to Stay Away. Nonetheless, no matter where you find yourself... whether in a cave or On A Plain, the torment will follow. It's important that you understand just how fatal your decision was, and in your darkest hours, you will remember that I came to provide you the opportunity to take that pain inside but there was Something In The Way... your mask. Now, your suffering will go on Endless, Nameless... but you enjoy the pain, correct? So Nevermind."