I don't own the WWE.
[This chapter contains blood and gore. Beware.]
"The table imploded on Mark Henry!" Michael Cole cried out, straining for a better look into the ring. Upon still not being able to see, Michael stood up and leaned over the table.
Suddenly, Michael Cole screamed as he was sucked into a large hole on the brightly colored announce table. "OH MY – " His scream was cut off when he slipped into the black hole.
Soon after, Tom Phillips did the same, along with Mark Henry, the Big Show, Roman Reigns, and the Wyatt Family. Slowly the black hole engulfed the WWE fans in the stands, and then the entire building. Soon the entire surface of the world had been swallowed by the imploded table.
There was no life left. The barren landscape held no people –
"Where in the heck did my diddly dang hat go?"
John Layfield slowly pulled himself up, dusting off his pink tie. "What in the world just happened?" he murmured, glancing around at the dark landscape. Buildings lay destroyed on the ground, covered in ashes and other remains. John coughed, deciding to sound dramatic.
"Oh my gosh... That black hole sure did a bang-up job on the world." John laughed under his breath at his own witty remark, and then began to walk forward.
He made sure not to dirty his shiny black shoes as he jumped over the large shrapnel. "I am so upset right now," John proclaimed, almost expecting Michael to respond with a sarcastic 'keep it to yourself, John'. He sighed when he was greeted by silence.
He froze when he saw a large figure in the distance. "Howdy there!" John called out, waving his arms erratically. He continued to yell at the person as he simultaneously ran towards them.
John froze. "Oh my goodness gracious!" The person standing in front of him...wasn't a person at all. His skin was rotten and falling off, and his eyes were sliding out of the sockets. John felt himself begin to throw up but quickly stopped himself.
The zombie, as John decided to call it, groaned, spitting up bodily fluids as it approached him. John shrieked, stumbling back. "G-Get away from me, you big monster!" He gasped when the zombie turned and John could recognize him.
It was Rob Van Dam. The same ponytail was hanging over his shoulder, although it was filthy. John gulped. "I'm sorry, RVD. You really were a living highlight reel, my buddy."
John reached to his side, lifting up a large piece of metal. John squeezed his eyes shut as he smashed the metal beam over RVD's head. He could feel the blood spatter onto his jacket, and even worse, his perfect pale pink tie.
John felt tears begin to slip from his eyes, and he didn't bother to wipe them away as he trekked on. He didn't care as much about his shoes staying clean as he had before and now let them slide through the dirt. To try and lighten the mood, John began to joke with himself. "Y'know, maybe I should just try and do some Bolieving, huh..." John smiled emptily, kicking a large rock. He jumped when he heard the rock make contact with something, and looked down to see a bloodied Bolieve t-shirt stretched across a piece of metal. "Oh my gosh gravy..." This absolutely destroyed John's spirits. He decided not to talk at all from that point on, using an imaginary zipper to shut his mouth.
As he walked on, he realized that he was alone; he hadn't seen a single person, besides poor RVD. "Well, it seems I've hit rock bottom," he muttered sourly to himself, sighing when he realized he broke the no-talking rule.
"Hah, rock bottom? You should take a look at me."
John leaped a foot in the air, whipping his head around wildly. "Who \Who is it?!" he demanded, his voice shaking. He gasped when The Rock rose from behind a pile of wood. He grinned, but it soon turned into a wince as he stepped forward.
John smiled. "Dwayne, oh my goodness!" He dashed towards The Rock, giving him a large and heartfelt hug. "You have no idea how fabulous it feels to see a familiar face right now."
The Rock grimaced. "Thanks, Bradshaw. You too." He glanced around at the destroyed landscape. "Why don't we put our feelings aside and move forward together?" He agreed, nodding. They shook hands and continued on.
"Hey! Is anybody out there?" John blinked, confused, and looked to his right. It was a girl; she was chubby and was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans. Her eyes widened when she spotted John and The Rock. She dashed towards them excitedly.
"JBL! Rock!" She hurried toward them, and John noticed that she was holding her right arm tightly. "I can't believe I'm meeting you guys!" John realized she was a fan that survived the black hole. She grinned up at them, smiling widely. "It stinks that we have to meet like this, huh..." The Rock nodded, laughing.
"I agree." John nodded. "I take it you're a fan?"
"Oh yeah!" she said, eagerly nodding. "I have been since I was a kid! I still remember when I saw you at the first Raw I went to, Mr. Layfield." John blushed, rubbing the small of his neck.
"Aw, shucks," he muttered, smiling. The girl laughed, but curiously didn't move when John reached out to shake her hand.
"My name's Charley. I'm seventeen." The Rock nodded, raising his eyebrows at John.
"A little old to watch wrestling, don't you think? I mean, since you're a girl."
Charley laughed a little bitterly. "No, I don't think so." The Rock shrugged, but they smiled at each other nonetheless.
"So, why are you holding your arm like that?" John questioned, studying where she tightly gripped her forearm.
"Oh, well..." She slowly let go, wincing. John gasped when he saw her wound.
Her flesh was cut open entirely, the skin almost flapping off of her arm. "Ew..." The Rock muttered, grimacing. John was appalled.
Charley looked up at them, and John could see the tears welling up in her eyes. "Can either of you guys help me? At all?"
The Rock swallowed thickly. "I don't know how to take care of that... I'm sorry. I would wrap it up, but I don't know what to use..."
John sighed, looking down at his lovely pale pink tie (now a bit of a red/pink mix) and removing it. "Here you go, Charley." Using the clean side, he tightly tied the tie around her wound. He could see her wince in pain. "Feel better?" he asked, patting it once. She shrugged.
"I guess. Thank you, though." Glancing at The Rock, she crossed her arms. "What do we do now?"
"Move forward, I guess." Charley nodded and turned around, leaning against a large rock with her good arm.
Suddenly, Charley screamed, grabbing her head. John turned towards her frantically and was shocked to see the Miz standing over her, a large chunk of metal in his hands. For a second John was confused about why the Miz would do something like that, but The Rock frantically explained to him. "He's a zombie. Look at him – he's practically rotting." John nodded, grimacing.
Charley lay on the ground, blood pooling around her. The Miz stood above her, baring his bloodstained teeth. But before he could begin to eat her, The Rock bashed him over the head with a rock. The Miz crumpled up and fell to the ground, letting out a final hiss.
John rushed to Charley's side, lifting up her head. There was an open cut on the side of her head that blood was rapidly pouring out of. She spit up some blood, and when it splattered on John's suit he didn't say anything.
Charley slowly reached into her pocket, fumbling around with whatever was inside and shakily placing it in front of John. It was a pair of eyeglasses with wire frames. "I found them up there, by the big pile of junk," she said – no, gagged, weakly pointing in the direction she came. "I-I think they're Michael Cole's. I figure you're worried about him, huh?" John nodded frantically and stuffed the glasses in his pocket.
"Thank you so much, Charley," John whispered, grasping on to her hand. She held it tightly, squeezing it with what must have been fear. "Y'know, who was your favorite wrestler, Charley?" he asked, trying to smile at her through his grief.
"...Bad News Barrett," she rasped, almost smiling as she said his name.
"I'll make sure to tell him," John promised. "He'll be darn honored." Charley finally did smile, but soon her eyes went blank.
The Rock watched silently as John laid Charley's head on the ground and stood up. John took the glasses out of his pocket and looked out in the direction Charley had said. "Let's go, Dwayne," he said, beginning to walk. "Better not waste any time in this gosh-darned place." The Rock followed John quickly.
John felt terrible about Charley's death, but he had another feeling in his gut – hope. Michael Cole, his companion, his partner, his best friend... He could still be out there. There was a chance, albeit a slim one, that Michael was looking for John just like he was looking for Michael. And John hoped and hoped from the bottom of his heart that they would find each other.
A/N: I know you're probably scratching your head right now - I was too as I wrote this. I first got the idea after hearing Michael Cole's "The table imploded from the impact!" in WWE 2K14. Thus - this was created. More chapters to come. (By the way, Charley is the only OC. I was originally going to go in a different direction with her, but she's gone now. No more original characters in the future, I promise.)
