Michael Cole: Can you get a shot of this, Drew?
The camera zoomed right in on the crinkled up note. Legible, if barely.
Come with 1 camera man only.
-PH
Michael sighed.
Michael Cole: Ladies and gentlemen, we’re on our way to a specified location here at the Wells Fargo Arena. We’re hours away from going live on Warfare, and I’m trying to get a word from one of the competitors participating in the Elimination Chamber in tonight’s main event. I’m supposed to be meeting Bray Wyatt, but I’m going to be honest…
Michael pushed down on the door handle that led into the room he was directed to in the note. The door creaked open slowly to reveal a pitch black room that seemingly stretched out into infinity - the only lights coming in were those that came from the opened door.
Michael Cole: I’m not loving this.
Cole cautiously stepped further into the room as the door swung closed behind him with a slam. The light on the camera providing some limited visibility as he peered around, looking for any sign of where he was supposed to go.
Michael Cole: Um, hello?
Silence.
Drew The Cameraman: I, uh...maybe we got the wrong room?
Michael Cole: The note clearly said--
click!
Cole jumped as a small, but bright light suddenly flickered on in the distance. He squinted to try and determine what it was, but it was too far away to make out for sure.
Voice: Well, come on. Don't be shy.
Cole gulped and started making his way towards the flickering light source. As he got closer, he could hear something squeaking against the hard cement floor.
Voice: Though I will warn you...I'm not exactly what you were expectin'.
As Cole got closer, carefully trying to navigate his way towards the voice without tripping over anything in the dimly lit conditions, it finally dawned on him what the flickering light source was -
It was an oil lamp. And it's owner sat in a well-worn, wooden rocking chair. He was wearing a flowery shirt and a pair of white pants. A wry smile curled up on his lips.
Bray Wyatt: I'm guessin' that you were lookin' for someone that kinda looks like me, but with a sweater, am i right? Maybe a little more...childish?
Bray tipped his straw fedora in Cole's direction as he casually rocked back and forth, his icy gaze sizing up his interviewer. Cole stammered out a response.
Michael Cole: I um... I was just told to come here by Paul if I wanted an interview with you.
Bray smiled as he stroke his beard contemplatively.
Bray Wyatt: And so you shall have it. After all, I must imagine the world has questions!
Michael Cole: Yes.
Bray Wyatt: About why I was entered into this particular match at this particular time?
Michael Cole: Well, yes.
Bray Wyatt: Oh, and lemme guess. What was Paul Heyman's involvement in my gettin' a spot in that chamber?
Michael Cole sat down on a crate opposite Wyatt.
Michael Cole: That is on everyone's mind.
Bray Wyatt chuckled, his shoulders rising and falling.
Bray Wyatt: Do you believe in fate, Michael?
Michael Cole: I... I'm not sure that...
Bray Wyatt: It's a simple question, Cole. Do you believe that there are things that you were placed on this Earth to do? Things that you were destined for?
Michael Cole: Well, I don't know. I think I knew what I wanted to do, and I worked hard to make those things happen.
Bray smiled at that answer and stopped rocking back and forth in his rocking chair. He leaned forward closer to Michael.
Bray Wyatt: Hmmm, yes. I believe that about you, Michael. You see, there are two types of people in the world, Cole. There are people who need to figure out what they want to do and then put in the blood, the pain, the suffering... to make that real.
Bray tapped Michael on the shoulder.
Bray Wyatt: Like you.
Wyatt withdrew his hand and leaned back in his chair.
Bray Wyatt: But then... then there's the other type. Those that understand that a path was placed before them a long time ago. A path that will lead them to where they need to be if they only just....surrender. Those that allow fate to work its magic. But here's the trick, Michael...
He chuckled slightly unnervingly.
Bray Wyatt: You have to know which type of person you are. And, most importantly, you have to be right. Otherwise, you will never achieve true greatness. You'll just be swimming along, in the muck and mire of self doubt and confusion. The two of us?
Bray gestured between himself and Michael Cole.
Bray Wyatt: We know who we are. You didn't have a destiny. Fate didn't bestow upon you a great truth. You had to work and fight for everything you have. I was different. Being in this Elimination Chamber? It's part of my path. My... fate.
Michael Cole: Can I be perfectly candid, Bray?
Bray chuckled and nodded.
Bray Wyatt: Of course, Michael! I would expect nothin' less.
Michael Cole: If this just an eloquent way to dodge the question of Paul Heyman's involvement in Wes Ikeda's decision to add you to the Elimination Chamber?
Bray Wyatt: Now, why would I go and do something like that?
Michael Cole: Well, it's not a particularly long stretch to consider the possibility that Paul Heyman is hedging his bets here. If you win the Elimination Chamber, you would go on to face the Miz, who is a client of his. Win or lose, Heyman finds himself still associated with the EBWF World Champion in that scenario.
Bray leaned back and laughed heartily, a belly laugh that was almost unnerving in its intensity.
Bray Wyatt: Oh Michael, that was a good one. Tell me, is Paul Heyman here, right now?
Michael looked around a few times and shook his head.
Michael Cole: Well, no.
Bray Wyatt: Am I wearing a mask, or talking to dolls, Michael?
Michael Cole: No, no you are not.
Bray Wyatt: Then you must be confusin' me for someone else, friend! You see, I'm Bray Wyatt. I'm the Eater of Worlds! I am here to realize the path that has been laid before me. I am here to become the EBWF World Champion.
Michael Cole: So...you're not... Paul Heyman's bodyguard?
Bray Wyatt: Of course not! Wouldn't be doin' a very good job of that sitting here talkin' to you, now would I? When Paul needs the monster.... he gets the monster. Me? I have my own agenda. My own fate.
Michael Cole: Your opponents in the Elimination Chamber, they may have their own designs. Xavier Woods--er, King Xavier, has already outlined his plans to become the number one contender for the EBWF World Championship, as well as the current Breakout Champion.
Bray Wyatt: And that's what it boils down to, doesn't it Michael? Men of action, and men of fate. This false king fancies himself a man of fate. How else does one call himself a King when he has no throne? No kingdom? No accomplishment? Xavier has revealed himself to us, even if he himself hasn't realized it yet. He believes the path is laid bare in front of him. He believes fate has brought him to this moment and that it is now his time. He speaks about experience and history having no bearing, what is that if not hubris in the face of somethin' far more powerful than yourself?
Michael Cole: What something is that? You?
Wyatt chuckled again and stroked his beard.
Bray Wyatt: Of course not. The Elimination Chamber, Michael.
Bray leaned in.
Bray Wyatt: The chamber is a predator, Michael. It lives, it breathes, and it hunts. Every time a body smashes against steel, every time flesh is ripped by chain, it feeds. This... King. He enters the Elimination Chamber with nothing but arrogance and overconfidence. He believes his fate is to win this match. But I see it differently. I think that Xavier will come to realize, very quickly, that he is not a man of fate. And when smoke clears and he realizes his mistake, it will be too late. When the Chamber has claimed its pound of flesh from him and he is carried out, perhaps then he will understand. But he isn't the only one.
Wyatt shook his head.
Bray Wyatt: Alex Shelley comes into the Chamber believe that it is his destiny to humble the Miz in front of his greatness.
Bray chucked amusedly.
Bray Wyatt: You see, I'm not like King Xavier. History does matter to me. I was a witness to Alex Shelley's accomplishments in EBWF for a long time. He was a shining light in this company. So I know what Alex Shelley is thinking right now. He sees The Miz, a man with a breathtaking ego, and seeks to humble him before a vision of true EBWF greatness. And so Shelley finds himself in a position of believing that destiny has brought him to this precipice. Because who would argue?! He confronted the Miz on national television and embarrassed him! Obviously the fates have aligned and Alex Shelley will be the one to walk out of the Elimination Chamber.
Michael Cole: I'm guessing you see it differently.
Bray Wyatt: I see it clearly, Michael. I understand what you do not. What Alex Shelley can't. His destiny was never to win the Elimination Chamber. He destiny was never to face the Miz.
Michael Cole: And why is that?
Bray's lips curled into a smile.
Bray Wyatt: Because fate placed me in the match, Michael. If Alex Shelley were meant to win, then fate would not have put me in that cage. And the same goes for MJF. Or Kevin Steen. Or Prince Devitt. The Eater of Worlds has been placed in this Elimination Chamber as a check. A serving of truth. Five other men believe that they have fate on their side. And I come as benevolent teacher. A benefactor bestowing my infinite knowledge upon them.
Bray outstretched his arms with a smile.
Bray Wyatt: Like I told you before...we can either be men of action, like you. Or men of fate, like me. But if you choose wrong, fate will strike you down. I am fate's sword, Michael. And tonight, I will help these five men discover what they were too weak to discover for themselves...
Bray picked up the lamp and raised it close to his face.
Bray Wyatt: Fate... has its own plans.
A maniacal laugh reverberated throughout the dark room as Bray turned his head and blew out the flickering light, cloaking the room in pitch darkness again.
"He's got the whoooooole world... in his hands..."
