On camera (Footage is taken from security cameras in the arena, various personal recording devices from fans, and the footage shot by Greg the cameraman)

We’re back at Lane Stadium where EMTs have gotten Maniac loaded onto a gurney and are wheeling him backstage, he’s starting to come back to his senses and can here the EMTs asking him questions but to Maniac it sounds like the adults talking from the Peanuts cartoon. The only constants there are is the weight of the HWA Championship laying on his chest and the unmistakable sound of his music playing, he couldn’t make out the lyrics but he knew that beat even if it sounded like his ears were filled with cotton. They got him backstage and just past Gorilla position when Maniac started to struggle and they stopped, giving Maniac the opportunity to get up and off the gurney. He had to get to his bus where he had  the spear of destiny stashed in his secret panel along with his time travel device, MIB weapons, and his other weapons. Swarmed by officials and medical staff Maniac staggers through the halls towards the garage refusing medical treatment.  The world title loosely dangles in his hand, dragging across the floor as he staggers into a wall.  Someone goes to help him up but he whispers back.

(Maniac):  Leave me alone.

He crawls a few inches, steadying his hand on the wall and using what little strength he has left push himself back upright. He was so tired and just wanted to sleep but knew he couldn’t, right now sleep meant death and Maniac didn’t know the meaning of the word die. He teeters ready to keel over at any moment, blood dripping in a trail behind him.

(Official):  Come one man, this is nuts…just come on back and get looked over.  You’re risking your life for nothing, this isn’t bravery.

The voice seems distant to him, his ears still ringing from vicious chair shots, his vision still going from blurred to black as if he’s passing out. Maniac didn’t understand why the official was yelling but he did know it wasn’t helping his headache. Maniac looks back and realizes that the official isn’t yelling because he’s standing right behind Maniac, not far away like he thought. Greg the cameraman is beside him encouraging him to listen as well.

(Greg):  It’s not a bad idea buddy, why don’t we just…

With great effort, Maniac turns his head looking at Greg who doesn’t finish the sentence.  He can see the resolve in Maniac’s eyes but isn’t sure what his goal is in all this stubbornness.  He returns to his duties and continues recording. He’s breath is wheezy, and the double doors in front of him open electronically as he approaches which he’s grateful for.  The metal clink of the gold and leather strap scraping the pavement continues as he drags the title, his bus now just feet away.  If he could just make it to the bus he’d be ok, he’ll get the spear and heal himself and then he’d find Matt and get answers. In moments he makes it, beside him Greg, and behind him remain a few officials still pleading with him to return and get treatment.  The hiss of compressed air is heard as his private bus door opens and Maniac grabs the rail pulling himself up to the first step, then the second step until he reaches the landing.  Feet away from him is an unexpected sight, he stands there unsure if he’s hallucinating or not.  Some kid is on his bus, headphones on, looking at the TV screen. The kid was blissfully unaware of Maniac’s presence, playing HIS Resident Evil Requiem until Maniac sways and leans into the wall drawing the kids attention. That fuking kid…

(Maniac):  What….

He can barely get the one word out, his throat in excruciating pain, but his question is evident nonetheless.  A cockiness comes over the kid as he looks him up and down and Maniac becomes more aware of his surroundings and finds that not only had his bus been broken into but his fridge and snacks raided evident by an empty bottle and wrappers on the couch in front of the guy.  Maniac grabs him, but his grip is weak and he’s shoved back even by this little punk kid.  Maniac hits the floor and finds enough of his voice to lash out.

(Maniac):  You little shit, I’m not going to ask again!

He turns spitting up blood and coughing out thumb tacks as Greg keeps the camera rolling while the young man simply grins at Maniac, he says nothing but his eyes move across the space to the small table across from them.  Maniac, still on the floor turns his head to follow his eyes.  A black envelope rests on the table and in silver writing on the front reads “Mr. Romano.” He turns over, an arcing pain etched in his side grips him as his fingers claw at the envelope until he has it in hand.  Nearly out of breath he tears it open to find a black card inside.  Written in silver are the words “Find the end, at the beginning!”  He looks puzzled, flipping the card over but there is nothing else written there nor anything remaining in the envelope which he checks again.  He turns back to the kid.

(Maniac):  What………..what does this…..this mean?

(Teenager):  Wow…you’re pretty dense for a World Champion. 

Instinctively Maniac gives him a “don’t #### with me kid” look to which he rolls his eyes and relents.

(Teenager):  It’s directions, that’s all I know.

(Maniac):  Who are you?  Who sent this?

The boy wags his finger as he steps over Maniac’s body and heads to the door to leave the bus.  Maniac grabs him by the ankle and he turns looking down at him with a sigh.

(Teenager):  All you need to know are two things….one…those are the directions you need, and…

Maniac eagerly interjects…

(Maniac):  And two…….what’s two?

He hacks and coughs blood, another 4 thumb tacks spills from his lips to the floor.

(Teenager):  Two?

The teenager just smiles at him again….a contented look in his eyes.

(Teenager):  They’re coming!

It was the press conference all over again.  Within seconds, barely a blink of an eye the boy had raised a gun to his head from out of nowhere.  There was a bang, a flash and Maniac jerked back…his ears ringing loudly unable to hear anything else.  Greg drops the camera to the floor, himself knocked back as the boys body hit the wall then falls right onto Maniac. The body twitches for a few moments before stopping, as Maniac tries to shove him off.  A pool of blood seeping onto the floor next to the gun with a whisp of smoke trailing from the barrel.  Greg’s covering his ears in pain and while Maniac’s stomach churns at the sight of gray matter on his wall, a bullet hole remaining where it escaped the boy’s head and lodged itself somewhere within.  He rolls over onto his knees gagging.  Seconds later a swarm of security and officials were at his bus, prying the door open and Greg rushes out, missing the last step and tumbles out caught by officials before he can smack his face or head on the ground. 

(Official):  Jesus!

They call for security that rushes over and a frantic swarm ensues like bees with their hive disturbed.  Someone is calling out to Maniac thinking the worse until they see the body in the doorway next to him.  The side of his head blown out leaving a small gory crater. 

(Official):  Maniac!

An official calls out to Maniac as security arrives and takes over.  He wants to get up but can’t, he can’t make out the voices with the excessive ringing in his ears now louder than before, the wet stickiness on his hands certain the bit of mush is a piece of brain he feels, the smell of blood and iron, and then nothing.  There are red lights flashing, a gurney on the distance across the garage.  Jeremy, it had to be Jeremy. No, that’s not right…then who?!?!?!? His will for consciousness has lost this battle as blackness overtakes him.  In the distance a siren is heard as everything fades to black.
___________________________________________________
Off camera

The scene opens inside LewisGale Hospital Montgomery where Maniac has just finished “speaking” to the police, he was given a dry erase board and marker to use as a way to communicate while his throat heals. After they had asked both Maniac and Greg questions they left, leaving the two alone to their thoughts on what transpired at Art of War. After a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on forever Maniac writes something on the dry erase board and then turns it towards Greg, “How’s the Draconis clan?” Greg smiles, grabbing a nearby chair and sitting down next to Maniac.

Greg: They’ll be ok, nothing a little rest and relaxation can’t fix. William is another story however…

Greg trails off but he doesn’t have to finish his sentence for Maniac to get the point, he knew that William and many others blamed him for everything that’s happened. He didn’t blame them, it was his body that the demon showed up in at the reunion show and since then it’s been a living nightmare. Well maybe not a complete nightmare, there was the fact that he got to compete again and hear the roar of the crowd. Plus winning the HWA Championship for a third time was great, but the best of all was meeting Mandy. She was his everything and just thinking about her put a smile on his face, he was also relieved that she was ok. When talking to the police they informed Maniac that Mandy had not been on the bus at the time of the break in and eventual shooting, she was in a meeting with Butch and Wisdom that thankfully ran over. Maniac nods in acknowledgement at the information Greg gave him as he turns the board so Greg can see. “How’s Jeremy? Any word?” There’s no smile on Greg’s face this time as she shakes his head.

Greg: No, sorry pal. I’m not even sure if they brought him here or took him to a different hospital.

Maniac nods in disappointment and turns the dry erase board back around, erasing and writing again before showing it to Greg once more. “Any word on where Matt is at?” Once again Greg frowns as he shakes his head to Maniac’s disappointment.

Greg: After he helped Jeremy beat the snot out of you and then turned on him he high-tailed it out of the arena, almost took an officials head off trying to stop him for some answers.

Maniacs eyes narrow and the anger on his face is obvious but it soon falters and changes to sadness. He leans back in the hospital bed and though it hurts him to do so he lets out a sigh before turning the dry erase board back towards him, erasing his message, and writing another for Greg. “What am I doing Greg? Everyone I come into contact with either ends up dead or fuked up in one way or another, maybe everyone is right.”

Greg furiously shakes his head and then scoots the chair closer to Maniac, placing his hand on Maniacs shoulder.

Greg: Listen to me, this isn’t your fault. First off, you were a prisoner in your own body and that demon dragged you along as it caused havoc wearing your face as a disguise. Secondly, other than Wolfy, Jesse and Luna Draconis, Kratos, Mandy, and myself NOBODY has tried to help you. Didn’t you beg Hans and Butch to help you at one point?

Maniac nods his head.

Greg: And did they?

This time Maniac shakes his head.

Greg: Exactly, and everyone else wants to complain because you haven’t succeeded yet? Fuk them, at least you’re trying.

Greg gets closer to Maniac so that he’s looking Maniac in the eyes as he whispers the next part.

Greg: Not to be cliché but maybe you should just endure, Maniac. Take it. They'll hate you for it, but that's the point, you can be the outcast. You can make the choice that no one else can make, the right choice. Be the hero the HWA deserves, but not the one it needs right now.

Maniac nods, his eyes never leaving Greg’s and they both smile. Maniac writes something on the dry erase board and shows it to Greg. “Thanks Greg, I needed that. I need you to get me out of here and to my bus, can you help me?” Greg nods his head but has a nervous smile on his face.

Greg: Sure pal, getting you out of here isn’t the problem it’s getting you to and inside your bus. It’s still being held at the police lot as evidence, that’s the tricky part.

Maniac nods in understanding then motions for Greg to come help him up which he does and they start their escape plan as the scene fades.