A/N: Bonus chapter 120 story. Just a little explanation, I began planning this back in July. Tyler Reks was given a role long before he was released from his contract. Likewise, Hunico, Alex Riley, Curt Hawkins were all put in the story before they were injured. With that in mind, it's a stand alone story and has no real connection to Back to Basics itself, like all previous stand alone stories I've written in the past. I hope you enjoy, anyway..
Mike "The Miz" Mizanin sighs, shaking his head. There's nothing more widespread than the rumor mill of a WWE locker room. One person says one thing, another hears it a certain way- most of the time wrong, wrong, wrong!-, and before long the whole arena is whispering about something that, perhaps, has a ten percent chance of even being close to correct. That commercial for Raw 1000 which was a big game of telephone basically wasn't all that far from the truth, all of the wrestlers falling victim to it at one time or another. This week's rumor was that something huge was to be announced for Halloween, some kind of televised special- perhaps to air on the WWE Network, if that ever gets off the ground. Yeah, right. The rumor only picks up speed when twenty Superstars are urged to meet up in the main locker room and wait for an announcement.
"This is ridiculous," Mike grumbles to Alex Riley, looking around at all of the wrestlers milling around, some looking excited, some looking anxious. "How long are we supposed to wait to see what this so-called big announcement is?"
Alex is just about to answer when there's a faint knock on the door, AJ Lee skipping inside. "Good," she says, voice bright and cheerful as she smiles around at her talent. "You're all here." Even Mike falls quiet, forcing down all surliness, as she stares at him, her smile not wavering once. "I've thought long and hard about all of this- and seeing that Halloween is my favorite holiday, and I know it's quite a few other people's favorite as well, I thought we should do something special to honor the holiday."
The buzz only grows as Mike looks around at his fellow competitors, Hunico and Camacho nearby, mumbling quietly amongst themselves. Ricardo Rodriguez, of course, has Alberto's ear, and Curt Hawkins and Tyler Reks are probably already discussing their costumes or something ridiculous like that. Alex tilts his head, also looking around. "What do you think she's got planned?"
Mike shrugs. "Who knows." He had been getting closer to her for a few months by now, his ultimate plan- to get Morrison his job back- on the forefront of all of his actions, a little seed of an idea he had had back when he had first returned and was put in an intergender tag match against her, her distracting him costing him and Eve Torres the match in the end, just for her to be made GM of Raw a short while later. He had never expected it to last this long, however.
She continues smiling at him before turning to face the other men scattered around the room. "I have conferred with the Board of Directors, and they have agreed and worked alongside me so that at the end of the month, this Halloween, we will be hosted by a hotel in Charlotte, North Carolina. "
More whispers, more gossip, and finally Mike speaks up, tired of the confusion and general uncertainty. "What are we going to be doing there? Sleepovers? Maybe we can all do each other's nails?" he snarks, making sure to smirk charmingly at her to take the edge off of his words, keep her calm and on his side.
"No, Miz, nothing like that," she says sweetly. "You all will be competing, of course. There are twenty rooms in this hotel; you all have to fight your way through each one, until you arrive at the hotel roof. Whoever does so will be rewarded handsomely at the top."
The whispers around them grow even louder, some men sneering at the prospect of what she's describing and others honestly intrigued by the prospect of a handsome reward. Miz watches her for a moment, shaking his head slightly. "That's kind of crazy," Alex mumbles to him once he's sure AJ isn't paying any attention to them.
"That's AJ," he responds grimly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
The smile on her face doesn't waver as she takes in the differing responses of her talent, clapping her hands together to get their attentions. "Alright, everyone! It's time to get ready for the evening's Raw. I'll see you all later." Skipping like a girl twenty years younger than she really is, she leaves the room as exurberantly as she'd entered.
Mike sighs, wondering why exactly he had to get himself involved with her. John, the things I get wrapped up in because of you.
Weeks pass, the various superstars looking ahead to what promises to be the strangest, most intriguing challenge of their careers. Between live events, Raw, and Smackdown, they all end up converging many times, some of them content to just talk about the upcoming Halloween, but others use it as another way to further their agendas in the business. Alberto Del Rio hypothesizes one Monday that each reward will be carefully selected for each individual superstar, and from that point on Miz can't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, upon winning, his prize would be Morrison getting his job back, like he had been desperate to have happen for months now.
By the time it's finally Halloween, even those who had been unimpressed to outright angry over the idea seems to have come around to the prospects, a kind of tense excitement in the air as the twenty men who had been selected by AJ Lee travel by bus to the hotel selected for them. Raw that week had been held in Charlotte, North Carolina, so it had made sense for them all just to remain in town until this, so they then could travel on to the next place for Superstars or Smackdown, wherever their next matches were to be held.
Mike, sitting next to Alex, looks over his shoulder at those sitting on the bus behind them. It's a grey, rainy day- perfect for something ridiculous like this being held on the most haunted day of the year- and he can't see too far but he can list off all invited to this thing in his sleep, having spent hours upon hours pondering, scoping, researching what all he might need to do to achieve victory. There's no proof that what Del Rio had said has any chance of being possible, but if it just happens to come true, well... Mike can't let the opprotunity slip through his fingers. Not after this long. He wonders if, at the end of this, he will merely remember this bus trip as the light at the end of the tunnel- his best friend gaining his job back, and...
But, no, he can't get ahead of himself. For now... Well. He takes a deep breath, trying to refocus. Yeah. So. Daniel Bryan, Kane, Alberto Del Rio, Ricardo Rodriguez, Santino Marella, Zack Ryder, Dolph Ziggler, Cody Rhodes, Heath Slater, Wade Barrett, Ted DiBiase Jr, Randy Orton, Hunico, Camacho, Tyler Reks, Curt Hawkins, Epico and Primo Colon all fill the seats behind them. Eighteen vastly different superstars, all with a multitude of weaknesses and strengths, that he will have to destroy completely in this challenge. Totally manageable. He sighs.
"You alright?" Alex asks, glancing over at him.
"Sure, why wouldn't I be?" he responds, smirk bitter and tight on his face, tone sarcastic. "I'm gonna be stuck in a hotel with eighteen of my favorite people overnight while we fight for some mysterious prize! I'm... AWEEEEEEEESOME!" Alex laughs a little bit at the word that now just slips out that way automatically from his former NXT pro now. "At least you're here, it might not be completely unbearable," he mumbles, wondering briefly what exactly Alex's reward would be if he somehow won. Wonders if the kid had pondered the exact same thing through the weeks, knows he probably has. Those in this business are the most competitive, desperate for a chance to prove themself, grab that brass ring. If he didn't care, he wouldn't have made it this far.
When the bus finally pulls to a stop in front of a large building, Mike looks out, counting. Based on window placements, there appears to be five floors, windows dark and omnious in the gloom. He hears Alex swallow thickly and looks over, nudging his friend. "Frightened, Alex?"
A-Ri rolls his eyes, huffing slightly. "No! Look at the name of the hotel."
Mike stares, grimacing. "You have got to be kidding me." Scattered across the front of the building lies the words Infernal Palace, words dark and foreboding in the shadows of the light washing across it from below. "Dammit." They exchange wary glances before joining the line to get off of the bus, no one really in a hurry to see inside now. There's a strange kind of aura about the place that even Mike can't deny, shivering as he drops down from the bottom step, hitting the ground before the tall building. Creepy damn place, he thinks grimly, shouldering his tote bag as the driver digs out their various bags and things.
Alex joins him a moment later, his own bag in hand. "Do you feel that? Kind of... cold and... and... I don't even know how to describe it?"
Mike nods shortly, his narrowed blue eyes locked on the building. "Yeah, I do," he mumbles, feeling perturbed and... somehow lonely, despite the crowd of his fellow superstars around him. Like a cold finger is creeping down his spine, he shudders. "Come on, kid. Let's get this show on the road, huh?" He tries to put on a brave face, despite filled with trepidation: IF it feels this bad outside, how in God's name are they supposed to survive inside for hours while competing for some mystery prize? Not for the first time or last, he hates that AJ has the level of power that she does to force them all into stupid stuff like this. My life has become a crappy horror flick, he sighs, pushing the door open and holding it for the others to file in before slipping inside too.
The door clicking shut behind them sounds like a death sentence echoing through the empty hallway.
After dropping their bags around the front desk, they all stand awkwardly, taking in the earthy shades of green and brown all over everything, cream borders accentuating everything. The furniture looks old, the carpet beneath their feet well-worn and maybe a little musky-smelling, the empty front desk made of varnished, cherry wood. "This is charming," he says sarcastically, making a face at Alex as he laughs at him. "Seriously, what are we supposed to do? Start fighting here?"
Alex has just shrugged when a referee walks into the room, peering at them briefly before placing a laptop down on a bureau nearby. A video takes over the screen, AJ Lee's vissage appearing on it. She looks like she's standing outside, her hair whipping this way and that in the wind. As he continues to fiddle with the device, AJ's voice greets them. "Hello, everyone," she says as the man walks to the side so they can see their General Manager. "Can you all hear me alright?" She pauses until finally there's a chorus of yesses, causing her to beam. "Great! So let's get started, hmm? To the right of the elevators is a hallway full of rooms. We have marked the doors you are assigned to- there are two on this floor, and four on subsequent floors." She tilts her head as the wrestlers mumble to themselves, some standing close enough looking to the side at the hallway she had mentioned, getting their first glimpse of what is to come. Mike is curious but remains by the door, his arms crossed grimly over his chest as he waits for her to continue.
"The last room fought in will be the penthouse," she explains, seemingly unaffected by the slow, steady rain that is currently drenching her dark brown hair and clothes. "There will be two of you entering there, but only one will exit. Whoever survives will have a straight shot onto the roof, where I am waiting for you. You will then learn what your prize is to be."
Alex makes a face, shifting next to Miz. "Is she going to remain up there the whole time we're going from room to room?" he mumbles, eyes wide.
"It wouldn't surprise me." They exchange glances, both disconcerted by their careers being dictated by such a weird, unpredictable girl.
All eyes turn back to her as she speaks again. "One last thing: Fighting can only be done in the rooms. If anyone gets out of line in the hallways or stairwells, they will forfeit their place in the contest. Begin!"
The referee holds an arm out towards the hallway, waiting patiently as the twenty men stream past him into the room with a large 1 on its door. Mike and Alex are the last two inside, both jumping a little as the door squeaks shut behind them, another echo that compounds in the quiet space around them all, adding to the unsettling tension in the room. "I hate that sound," Mike mumbles, stepping away from Alex just enough to keep his eye on everyone. They all stand there, uncertain what to do. It's a hotel room like many others they'd all seen in the past- a bed, desk, couch, and TV, with a view outside into the parking lot, closet to the side and... not much else.
As they all try to gain their bearings in this strange setting for a match of sorts, Mike examines them all, taking in their expressions. If anything, this kind of setting would be most beneficial to Wade Barrett, considering he spent years all out brawling in plain clothes, but Mike puts that out of his head, relieved to find that most of them look as conflicted and uncertain as he's feeling- there are no ropes here for the highfliers to show off their flashiest moves, no ring aprons to go vaulting off of. Nothing but furniture to crash into, decorations to use as weapons, walls to collapse against. It's going to take a lot of getting used to in a very short amount of time if any of them want to survive past this first room. And, although none of them are sure what exactly they're competing for, it's obvious just by looking that they all want to do just that.
Things start quickly, Heath Slater dashing after Zack Ryder and punching him solidly in the jaw, the sea of humanity slowly dispersing as guys pick opponents and begin brawling, Mike going right after Ted DiBiase while Alex takes on an approaching Dolph Ziggler. It becomes hard to keep track of anything that's not directly in front of him as he punches Ted and kicks him, the third generation superstar gasping and struggling to get the upperhand, until Mike roughly slams him onto the bed, the momentum sending him dropping over the other side, where he doesn't move at all.
Turning sharply, the Intercontinental champion examines the room with narrowed eyes, taking in how Ricardo and Del Rio are holed up in a corner, Ricardo shamelessly clinging to Alberto's sleeve as they murmur to each other, watching the ensuing war raging before them and slipping out of reach whenever any particular brawl gets too close to them, the Mexican aristocrat's grip on his ring announcer's tux tight as he ensures that the younger man keeps up with him. Miz is about to pick his way through the room and take his frustrations out on the two men when there's a loud, vibrating thud across the room and almost all of them look up in time to see Camacho slam Orton into the door, dazing the Viper. The large man grabs a downed Hunico- showing visible signs of Orton's assault that had sent Camacho to his rescue, rambling loudly in Spanish before knocking on the hotel door which is pulled open, Camacho responding by pushing his friend through it before following him. As soon as they're gone, the door is shut securely by the waiting referee, everyone pausing in the melee to look at each other.
So that is how it's done, Mike thinks, a little disgusted and amused by just how simple escaping this room truly will be. "Well, it's easier than getting tossed over a top rope, I suppose." Spinning around, he clocks an advancing Santino Marella in the throat, stepping over him as he chokes and struggles. Unfortunately his original target is now across the room, Del Rio's focus on Orton as Ricardo holds him back for him, their plan going awry as Orton snags him around the neck and slings him over his shoulder into Alberto, sending them into the opposing wall. Hunico and Camacho advancing had seemingly woke everyone up, the fighting much more concise and nonstop now.
He's stopped by both Primo and Epico, a solid drop kick sending him back against the desk, where he grimaces, holding his side. They dive at him but he steps aside at the last minute, both men crashing into the desk, which promptly collapses under their weight, leaving them in a heap of wood and bruises. Our first casualty, he thinks almost mockingly. Well, I'm definitely not paying for it. Storming away once more, he grabs a woozy looking Daniel Bryan, slamming him face first into the wall nearest before grabbing Alex under the arm, dragging him away from the madness and towards the door.
"Mike?" he asks, sounding breathless and a lot out of it. "What- what are you doing?"
"We are getting out of here," he tells him. "Let the riffraff kill themselves, we can take the opportunity to recoup outside and prepare for the next room." Ignoring how Alex almost seems ready to argue with him, Mike reaches for the door, just to suddenly be grabbed by the hair and dragged back, Alex slowly turning to watch as Tyler Reks holds him in a chokehold, snarling down at him.
"Where do you think you're going?" he demands, shaking him slightly. Mike's about to pass out when there's a flash of light reflecting somehow in front of his vision, a sound of shattering glass close to his head and Reks drops like a heavy weight, releasing Mike. He gasps and sputters, choking, as Alex reaches for him, supports him.
"Careful!" he exclaims, keeping him off of the floor as best as he can. "There's glass all over the place." At Mike's curious glance, Alex grins sheepishly. "Used a vase, man. He went down like that." He snaps his fingers before pushing his former mentor towards the door. "You're right, let's get out of here." Alex knocks this time and follows Mike outside, grinning as they join Camacho and Hunico, leaving the sixteen others to rage behind them. Once the door is closed tightly, they line up in the hallway next to the other two men, staring at them in distrust as the amount of people outside slowly grows, Barrett and Curt Hawkins following, pulling along a still disoriented Reks.
Kane follows shortly afterwards, a bloodhungry smirk residing under his mask. The seven other men avoid him, looking away as Heath and Zack somehow manage to brawl out of the room, exchanging blows and insults until an impatient Wade intercedes, glaring at them both as he separates them forcefully, sending Zack back towards where Mike and Alex are at and away from his former teammate. Somehow, Epico and Primo gets out next, Miz watching them impassively as they glare at him, obviously still stinging from what he'd done to them. He snickers slightly as they pass, Alex looking on in confusion.
Daniel Bryan stumbles out next, mumbling viciously "no, no, no!" under his breath as he glares at each and every one of them, mumbling to himself as he stops short, staring up at Kane before standing huffily next to him, ignoring the Devil's Favorite Demon when he smirks down at him. Ricardo and Del Rio follow next, Alberto dragging the breathless ring announcer along with him as their loud Spanish complaints fill the hallway, Miz rubbing his temples when the volume in the small area grows with each passing second, tag teams and enemies alike content to pass the time arguing or discussing what to do in the next room.
Finally the door opens yet again and Orton throws Dolph out, smirking viciously as he crashes face first into the opposing wall, the line of wrestlers slipping aside so he doesn't crash directly into them. The Viper then walks out calmly as if he hadn't just spent the last half an hour fighting his way out of a room with 20 other men struggling to do the same. He saunters over to Dolph and pulls him up by his hair, snarling at him. "This ain't over, showoff," he declares before releasing him roughly and going to stand elsewhere in the line.
"Who's left?" Mike mutters, listening as struggling, much more muted, but still audible, comes from the room. He rubs his throat as Alex looks around at the people around him.
"I think Santino, Rhodes and Ted DiBiase."
"Fantastic," he sighs, crossing his arms mulishly over his chest. This prize better be damn good. Like, a million dollars, or unlimited title opportunities or...
His thoughts are interrupted when the door opens once more and Ted and Cody tumble out, a ball of flailing fists and legs as the two fight into the same wall that Dolph still rests against, the angry man pushing them off of him so roughly that they almost end up rolling back into the room before the referee can shut the door on a groggily yelling Santino, leaving him inside.
Mike sighs. "So that's it? Onto the next room?"
The referee holds a hand up, muttering into his headset, before turning to face the line of incensed, anxious men before him. "Follow me." There's some minor pushing and bickering but, AJ's words first and foremost in their minds, they stay on their best behavior as they follow the man in the striped shirt through the darkened hallway.
"This is kind of creepy," Alex mutters.
"It's Halloween, we're in a hotel called the Infernal Palace. Of course it's creepy," Mike responds. "Just keep reminding yourself that there's no squirrels here and you'll be fine." He chuckles as Alex huffs at him.
Finally they reach the room, the door held open for them as they file inside. Unlike the room prior, this one only has a small set of windows side by side and a few of them take a minute to look outside at the gloomy evening stretching out before the hotel, adding to the eerie feeling of the room. Unlike the first room, it's not decked out like a traditional hotel room. If anything, this looks more like a conference room: spacious floors, a long table in the middle of the room, plush chairs scattered around and... nothing else.
Mike exchanges an uncertain glance with Alex, who shrugs as they take it all in. "Well, then." They stand aside as the rest of the competitors trail in behind them, taking it all in with equally disquieted expressions on their faces. A few of them jump when the door is slammed shut behind them, Mike definitely not one of them. Not at all. Ahem. He swats Alex before he can laugh at him and turns to face the rest of the room.
Ricardo, Alberto, Epico, Primo, Hunico and Camacho- Miz figures they may as well just be called The Os, but then his mind starts going in weird places so he stops that train of thought quickly- are all clustered together, whispering and probably conspiring together. Finally people start moving as Daniel, Kane, Reks and Hawkins all go after Orton, Hawkins getting slung into the wall for his trouble before the other three overwhelm him. Hawkins rejoins the fight a second later, the four of them sending Orton into the middle of the room, where Daniel hits off a rough enzuigiri to the side of his head that drops Orton to his knees, just for Tyler to clothesline him as soon as he's back up.
Dolph and Heath, oddly enough, are working together against Zack and Ted, alternating between taking the two on but the instant that they start to rally, the redhead backs off. "Hey!" Dolph yells at him when he leaves him high and dry, running off to go after a nearby Epico.
Mike is laughing at the stupidity before him when he feels someone poke him on the back. He swings first, asks questions later, which he's glad for later when it ends up being Cody, trying to sneak a Cross Rhodes on him as soon as he'd turned around. Cody falls hard into the wall behind him and Mike kicks him, grabbing him by the arm and slinging him once more into the wall. "You tryin' something, huh?" he snaps, holding an elbow to his throat. "Not gonna fly, sor-ry," he singsongs, smirking as Cody glares back at him, incensed.
His attention, however, is divided when he hears someone impact with the wall on the other side of the door and looks over to find Alex slouched near the light switch, gasping and twitching in pain. Before he could peel himself off, there's a black blur as Ricardo Rodriguez pulls him away and pins his arms to his back, Alberto right there, punching and insulting the former NXT rookie between each blow. He pushes Cody to the side and takes off, tackling Del Rio off of the younger man, who regains composure fast enough to get some space and elbow Ricardo harshly in the face. The ring announcer is like an octopus, however, holding on tightly to Alex, and it takes another elbow (this one pretty much dead on to the throat) to make him release, Alex stumbling off as Ricardo collapses to the floor, hands scrabbling at his throat as he struggles to catch a breath.
As soon as he's clear, Mike pushes Alberto roughly towards Ricardo and grabs Alex, dragging him away from the snarling Mexican. "Are you ok?!" he demands, fingers digging into Alex's neck as he guides him into the middle of the room, away from all of the fighting.
"Yeah," he grunts. "They just overwhelmed me. I'm alright." Mike nods, sighing in relief, as they take a minute to regroup, relax a little and take in what's going on around them. Everyone is fighting close to the walls, which leaves the middle of the room clear for them to stand around the table and stare. Del Rio is still near Ricardo, waiting for him to regain his own composure, while Camacho and Hunico are working over Reks and Hawkins. Daniel and Kane are actually working together against Epico and Primo and- Mike looks up in time to see Wade get the upperhand and slam Orton into the wall next to Cody before sauntering over to the door and exiting, cool as can be.
Mike scoffs and, noticing movement out of the corner of his eye, pushing Alex aside in time for both of them to sidestep a rushing Heath who runs face first into the opposing wall, groaning as he clutches his face. "AAGH I'm gonna get you for that!" he yells, turning back around and trying again, just for Mike to simply clock him right in the jaw, sending him again to the floor, where he stays for now. They exchange glances, Mike huffing before he pushes Alex yet again into the melee, joining him as they target, individually, Zack Ryder and Dolph Ziggler. They're all in the middle of their own physical altercations when the darkening room is lit up, the door opening to reveal a light on in the hallway.
"HEY!" Cody yells, scrambling for the door and failing to stop Ted DiBiase from escaping as it's slammed almost on his fingers, the young man inching away just in the nick of time, eyes wide in his pale face. "Son of a bitch!"
Miz smirks at his angry yell as he continues on Zack, punching and kicking the man until he somehow gets his second wind, volleying back with punches until they both stumble away from the other, Ryder getting enough distance to run forward once more, cracking Mike in the throat with a clothesline that leaves him on the floor, gasping. He's the next out of the room, Miz sneering at the door as it slips shut once more. Slamming his hand against the carpetted floor, he lunges to his feet and grabs Alex by the collar, punching Dolph when he tries to come forward once more. When the Show Off hits the table and just stays there, winded and sweaty, he pushes Alex towards the door, intending on making another hasty exit.
They're stopped halfway there, however, by Daniel Bryan and Kane, who sneer at them in their own, deranged ways. Mike glares back at Kane, trying not to show how intimidated he truly is, Alex next to him staring Daniel down. The former proteges of Miz have no love lost, to be honest, both having competed against each other fairly often back when Alex was Miz's right hand man. They both go in swinging, Alex taking Daniel by surprise. Unfortunately, Miz isn't as lucky and his fist gets caught mid-swing by Kane, who grabs him by the neck and throws him into the opposing wall, hitting a few choice punches along his jaw and chest.
He's about to black out, the Devil's Favorite Demon's rampage just a little too much even for him, when something slams into Kane's back, throwing him forward into Mike, who slumps down to the ground as Kane turns to yell at an off-balanced Daniel. As the tag team champions fall into a screaming match, Alex ducks around them and grabs Mike by the shirt, pulling him up and to the door. Through the haze, Mike keeps a tight hold on Alex's arm so his forward motion keeps the younger man with him, the two of them slamming against the door. As the referee opens it for them, they stagger out and hit the wall, both panting for breath. "Dammit," Mike groans, rubbing at his face. "This is going to be a long night."
"We've only made it through two rooms," Alex realizes with a grimace. "If there are nineteen of us to be eliminated, then... Damn."
"Seventeen more rooms, not counting the penthouse," Mike mumbles, hating Alex's math as much as he does, if not more. "Enjoy the break while you can, then." Alex nods and they stand back and watch as their competition trickle out of the room: Primo and Epico support each other out first, even just the short time that the door is left open enough to let Kane and Daniel's unending arguing echo out into the hallway. "CLOSE THE DOOR!" he finally snaps at the referee, despite the man already being in the process of doing so. He ignores the glares leveled his way, crossing his arms over his chest, visibly bored with waiting.
Unfortunately, Daniel, Kane, Del Rio and Ricardo are the next four to escape, Daniel and Alberto locked up in a fierce power struggle as Ricardo is clinging to the much larger Kane's back, trying to keep him from going after Del Rio. As soon as they're through, two things happen simultaneously- Daniel trips and falls, accidentally snagging Alberto's ankle and sending him face first into the wall and Kane gets ahold of the squirming Mexican on his back, sending him over his shoulder onto the unforgiving hallway floor. Everyone winces as he lands hard close to Alberto, immediately rolling away and grabbing at his back. Kane is given all of the space he needs as he storms down the hall, Daniel oblivious to the other wrestlers inching away from them as he follows him down, yelling at him the whole way as he argues back with him as if the torment they'd just rained down upon the two men still laying at Mike's feet hadn't even happened.
They're still down there, Alberto trying to collect himself and get to his feet, nudging Ricardo now and again, speaking lowly in Spanish, as others trickle out of the room. Dolph, Orton, Heath and Hawkins and Tyler all stumble over and around them, most of them barely bothered when Del Rio snaps at them crudely, kicking at them when they get too close to either he or a still struggling Ricardo. It's down to three in the room, Rhodes, Hunico and Camacho, when there's another door-rattling thud that the ref responds to, stepping back as all three of them struggle to make their escape out of the room.
Mike can't help but smirk as the former Intercontinental champion struggles against the two, Camacho's large hand falling on his back and pulling him backwards, viciously slinging Cody back into the room as he and Hunico rush over the doorway, safely landing in the hallway. As the door is slammed shut once more on him, he seems to smack right into it, the frame rattling once more before the youngest Rhodes' voice pierces through the barrier keeping him from continuing on. "NOOOO!"
"Well, you have to give it to them," he comments to Alex as they gingerly pass over Ricardo on their way to the next room, the referee leaning down by him to check if he can continue, Alberto watching on with a grimace as he stammers out an affirmative. "They're definitely keeping this interesting."
It takes a few minutes longer for this room to begin because they all have to venture up stairs, the next room marked to compete in being on the second floor. Everyone is tense, keeping an eye out for anyone to randomly attack, but the stairwell is dark and small and no one is stupid enough, thankfully, all eighteen of them making their way safely up to the landing, where a new referee is waiting to lead them to the third room.
As soon as they're all inside, the door is yet again closed, allowing them a few moments to take in the room before they begin. It's another regular hotel room, with a cabinet and bed, desk and chairs, and... this one even has a mini-fridge. Yeah, this seems safe, Mike thinks with a grimace. Alex seems to share his thoughts, keeping close to him as they wait for the others to start something, his fingers digging into the sleeve of his shirt.
With each room, tension grows until it becomes difficult to know what to do next, where to move. Everyone is hyper-vigilant, waiting for the first move. It finally comes when Dolph lunges forward and pushes Zack into Kane, who was currently yelling with Daniel, of course. The large man, still twitching from his argument, spins around and catches Zack roughly under the jaw, Mike rolling his eyes as he catches sight of Dolph slipping away to safety as his rival drops hard to the floor, writhing for a moment before Daniel catches Ted with a solid punch of his own, keeping him from taking Kane by surprise. As the tag team champions have one of their brief moments of teamwork, Mike and Alex wade in, targetting Hunico and Camacho.
Circumstances keep them from escaping this room early, every time one of them try to make it to the door barricaded by this competitor or that. Alex even is starting to look frustrated when Mike roughly knees Barrett in the back, trying anything to get through. The room looks less full, like others have escaped while they'd been waylaid by various people, but Alex can't suss out who all's gone. Finally he hits a rough clothesline on Wade as Mike attacks his knees, toppling the vicious Brit so they can move around him. The path to the door is clear now- or so they think, until Hunico and Camacho get in their way, the taller of the two blocking the door so they can't notify the ref on the other side to let them out.
Miz grits his teeth, not in the mood for this. "Move," he snaps at Hunico, punching him roughly. The cholo falls back but spins around, clocking Alex before elbowing an advancing Miz right in the jaw, sending both of them off-balanced. He grabs Camacho and the two escape the room, smirking at the two floundering men as the door is shut between them.
"Oh my God," Alex grimaces, trying to hold them both upright as Mike collects himself, still reeling from the ridiculous strength behind Hunico's punch. "That did not just happen."
"Come on," Miz snaps, pushing him towards the door. A few knocks later and the referee is back, opening it for them and watching, perplexed, as they stumble through, glowering at the line of superstars there ahead of them. "Dammit."
"Luckily it's not a race," Alex grumbles, standing against the wall as they begin to wait for the rest to trickle out, only five competitors still within that room. Finally Ryder and Barrett escape, leaving DiBiase, Ziggler and the Colons inside.
The four men are vocally fighting against the door, the referee watching closely as all four stumble out of the room. "Now what?" Mike mumbles, anxious to move on to the next room but unsure what will happen if they've all escaped. Alex shrugs, the tension growing as the referee examines the four men before him.
"Out!" he announces clearly, directing Primo, Ted and Dolph to join the others.
"Wait, what?!" the Colon cousins snap, realizing what this means. "No, no, he was right with me!" Primo continues to argue, unable to do anything as the referee ushers Epico back into the room and decisively closes the door. "Hey!"
"He'll be released from the room once you all are in the next room. Move," the referee orders, clearly not in the mood for their shenanigans. Mike sneers, wondering if they're all this short tempered so early in the evening, how bad it'll be by the end.
Primo continues to look pissed off as he trudges behind the others, clearly not pleased at being alone in this thing from here on out, his sneer only growing when they arrive at the next room to find it's a sauna, various wooden seats built into the wall and basins of rocks around to add to the steam that fills the room when it's turned on. Mike and Alex both exchange glances, easily deciding to be more proactive in this room. They start right away, heading right for Camacho and Hunico to cut them off at the pass before they get the brilliant idea to resume what they'd started in the previous room.
Their rough fistfight quickly spreads to the others in the room, Daniel and Kane actually ceasing their arguments long enough to rush after a lurking Slater and Barrett, clearly looking for their own opportunity to get the upperhand somewhere. Laying out Hunico with a vicious forearm, Miz turns and helps Alex hoist the larger man up onto his shoulders, leaving him to bomb him right there on the unforgiving floor. They stand back-to-back, examining the room for a moment, before Zack gets just a little too close and Mike smacks the taste out of his mouth, sending him crashing into the wall opposite.
Alex barely seems to notice, taking a few steps to the side to block an incoming strike from Tyler Reks and return with a few of his own, sending the dreadlocked man back against the edge of one of the rock basins. As it teeters from his weight, Curt comes out of nowhere and clotheslines Alex roughly, sending him back into Mike. They're both knocked off-balanced, landing at Del Rio's feet, his and Ricardo's mocking laughter only adding to Miz's anger. Getting back to his feet, he lunges at Alberto, just for him to move and leave Ricardo open for attack. He's just barely punched the ring announcer, however, when something hard strikes along his neck and head, leaving him out on his feet, ears ringing. The last thing he sees before falling backwards is Alberto grabbing Rodriguez' tux and pulling him aside.
"Mike! Mike, come on!" Alex sounds frantic, his hands rough and frenzied against Mike's face. "Wake up!" He groans, his head turning this way and that against a hard surface. His eyes shoot open in shock when Alex roughly slaps him, jaw dropping in equal horror at what he'd just done. "Sorry, I'm sorry, I had to do something," he mumbles, amazed that he hadn't ended up on his ass for that one as Mike stares at him, gingerly rubbing his jaw while he tries to regain his faculties.
"What the hell, Alex?!" he snaps, struggling to sit up. "What-"
"Del Rio knocked you unconscious, I had- I had to wake you up somehow, or you'd lose!" It floods back to him then, the contest and AJ's ridiculous idea- that he had gone after the Mexicans, just to pay for it. "You need to get up," he hisses. "More and more guys are getting out, we'll be the last two soon at this rate."
Mike stares around blankly, takes in how Barrett and Orton are struggling towards the door, Tyler and Curt sneering down at a scrambling DiBiase, his pained groans echoing through the room as Curt roughly kicks him in the ribs again, and again, and again. As he watches, Zack Ryder, still looking out of it- perhaps from his confrontation with Miz's hand earlier, or whatever had happened since- finally makes it to the door and staggers outside. "Help me up," he groans, waving a hand at Alex until he grips it and tugs Mike to his feet. "Go, go!"
They rush, Alex pushing Barrett out of the way and Miz doing the same to Orton, until they're safely out in the hallway, A-Ri immediately gripping Mike by the shoulder and helping him to the wall. "Come on, take it easy for awhile, huh? Catch your breath. We should at least have a few minutes until they all stop fighting and escape."
Mike nods, glaring at the referee as he begins to examine him, determine if he can continue through. Alex is right, there's at least five minutes between their escaping the room and when Barrett and Orton finally stop trying to kill each other long enough to exit as well, Curt and Tyler having made it out maybe a minute after Mike and Alex had. "Idiots," he mumbles, not that surprised that DiBiase is the one eliminated this time, after what he had witnessed from Hawkins and Reks in the room.
He's almost scared to see what will come next, but thankfully the next room is similar to the first one they'd been in on this floor, bed, desk, chairs, and other scattered furniture with the added bonus of carpet in case he should happen to get knocked unconscious again by one of Del Rio's- or anyone else's- enzuigiris.
He almost expects Primo to be the next to go, because of his being used to have Epico to fall back on. He had missed how exactly the Puerto Rican had survived the previous room, unconscious for the bulk of everything that happened in that room, but the kid is amazingly one of the first few out of this room, too. Primo ducks aside when Del Rio goes after him, snagging his ankle with his heavy boots and tripping him up until he lands hard against the desk, Rodriguez right there to support him despite showing his own wounds from the past few rooms. With a rude sneer, the younger man then dashes for the door and is out of sight, the first one out of the room.
Mike rolls his eyes, nudging Alex before they sneak up on the bickering Heath and Wade, both unable to alert the other before they're rushed from behind. Alex spins Heath and lands a solid swipe to his chest, winding the West Virginian while Miz exchanges blows with Barrett, which really isn't the greatest idea, quickly losing his upperhand in this battle until Wade pushes Mike back into the other two, giving Heath just enough momentum to sandwich Alex against the opposing wall, leaving them both down as the former Nexus mates wander off, bickering still about who-knows-what.
"Ow," Mike groans, scrambling over to where Alex is laying in the corner, not wanting to get caught up in something else before he's ready.
"What just happened?" Alex mumbles, dazed.
"Hell if I know." They sit there, recollecting themselves, until the door opens and Wade roughly throws Heath out into the hallway, following him with an annoyed sneer before joining him, their argument still decernible through the door even after it closes behind them. "Fantastic, we're never going to get them to shut up," he sighs. "Between them and Team Friendship, AJ should've provided earplugs, that would've been the kind thing."
"I doubt she wanted to be kind with any of this," Alex mumbles, wincing as he catches sight of Ricardo eating a stiff punch from Kane as Alberto corners Daniel Bryan, unaware of the lurking Big Red Machine behind him. They both watch as he grabs the Mexican aristocrat by the neck, slinging him backwards with one hand and into a staggering Ricardo, sending them against a nearby wall as Ricardo tries to support Del Rio's weight on already shaky legs.
Once they've caught their breath, the path to the door is clear, the tag team champions now fighting with Curt and Tyler on the other side of the room. "Let's get out of here," Mike says, dragging Alex to his feet. "Move, move." He pushes him steadily forward, ignoring everything else going on around them as they go. "Room five," he mumbles distastefully once they're safely out in the hallway, eyeing the referee who is waiting to allow the next wrestler out of the room.
"Only fifteen more to go," Alex responds softly. "Yay us."
"I'm never going to want to see another hotel for as long as I live after tonight," Mike sighs. They fall quiet, relieved that, somehow, Wade and Heath had burnt out of bickering, the only noise now being the competitors slowly trickling out of the room, looking about as burnt out as the first four are feeling. Most of the guys have managed to escape within the next few minutes, Alex and Mike comparing notes on who's left, agreeing after a few moments of confused back-and-forth that only Hunico, Camacho, Hawkins and Reks remain in the room. "Wanna place bets?" the former WWE champion asks with a sneer, shrugging when Alex doesn't seem that enthused in the offer.
Hunico is the next out, Mike getting a glimpse inside of Camacho trying to make it to the door just to get double teamed by the other two who drag him back inside. He's certain that the next ones out will be Hawkins and Reks, with Camacho getting eliminated, but from his vantage point, he gets to watch as they attempt this, just for Camacho to grab Hawkins once Reks is already past the threshold, the former tag partner of Ryder's yells of denial slamming through the hallway as the door is shut behind him, leaving him to Camacho's rough strength. When the door opens again, Hunico's friend saunters through as calmly as if he does this sort of thing every day.
Reks slams his fist against the wall. "You have got to be kidding me!" He continues his little bitch-fit the whole way through the hallway to the next room, his eyes dark and forboding underneath his ridiculous hair. Mike makes a note to avoid the angry big man, nudging Alex and muttering the same warning to him.
It's obvious early on that Reks is out for blood, the loss of Curt somehow waking something up in the man that no one's seen for awhile. Everyone stops what they're doing in the next room as the sound of a body crashing into something solid echoes around them, turning to find the much taller man kicking Primo in the side as he sprawls along a desk, breathing raspily and spasming slightly. It's a foregone conclusion as the rest of them all escape the room over the next ten minutes, leaving the Colon cousin down where he'd not moved since Reks decimated him so cruelly.
No one seems in a hurry to move upon realizing that the room that Primo is still unconscious in is the last one on this floor set aside for them, waiting by the stairwell for someone else to move first. The wait isn't long, however, as Reks storms up the stairs, obviously anxious to take his anger on out more people and unable to do it in such a small space. Mike's dread only grows as they all walk, subdued, up the concrete steps and file into the third floor, the hotel somehow growing more and more solemn and freaky the further they go.
Alex walks into the room yet another referee is guiding them into first, skidding to a stop and almost getting run into by his former pro, who snaps at him. "Alex! Move!"
"Mike," he mutters, licking his lips. "It... it's the weight room."
Mike skids to a stop at this too, taking a look at all of the equipment and potential weapons scattered around. "Dammit!" he hisses, catching sight of the blood-hungry expression on Reks' face. "Fantastic." They remain back to back once the glass door shuts, keeping an eye out for Tyler. Thankfully, the larger man has his focus elsewhere, picking up a weight with a small sneer on his face before going after the competitors on the other side of the room.
Everyone is desperate to get out of this situation, barely bothering to take a minute to fight anyone else around, simply throwing punches and landing kicks whenever their way to the door is blocked. It's become more about survival now, less about winning. No one thinks that whatever AJ has up her sleeve is worth their careers or lives, Miz hissing as Del Rio lands a solid kick to the back of his head, sending him face first into the wall before dragging Ricardo out of the room. He looks up as the Mexicans mock him from behind the glass door, their laughter quickly dying away when Reks appears and slams Zack Ryder face first into the glass, the Long Island Iced Z sliding down to the floor, barely conscious. He's tenacious, however, and tries once more to get to his feet just to get a shot to the gut by the solid weight that Reks hadn't let go of this whole time.
Yet again everyone flinches at the rough cracking sound that accompanies it, Mike only just catching sight of a nearby Dolph Ziggler's pale face as he watches his sometimes rival sink to the floor, barely moving. "Move, move," he snaps, grabbing Alex by the shoulder. "Now!"
They get out of the room in one piece, the referee looking troubled also as he peers in at a sneering Tyler Reks who seems content to stay inside and traumatize the others for as long as possible. Even as the others slowly, bit by bit, manage their escapes, Zack doesn't move once, despite all of the noise and cacophony around him. Alex looks truly worried once they're all free to move onto the next room, everyone keeping their distance from the crazed man, glancing behind his shoulder every now and again until they're out of sight of the exercise room, Mike's hand on his upper back the only thing keeping him moving straight ahead.
This one goes similarly to the previous, except this time it's Heath eating it as Reks lifts him up and slams him ruthlessly against the table by the window, all wrestlers nearby scattering away from the shards of wood as it cracks. Even Mike cringes at the sound, looking for a free path to the door to get away from Reks once more. Unfortunately he seems to be keeping a closer eye on those trying to make an easy escape, that being how he'd caught Heath so early on, so Mike is reluctant to even attempt... until the tall man's attention is stolen by Del Rio and Ricardo, standing back to back as they try to keep an eye on the whole room while making their way to the door.
Once Reks is heading their way, Mike locates Alex and slams Dolph aside with both fists, winding him and sending him away from Alex long enough to grab him and drag him towards the exit. "Come on, come on," he hisses to the off-balanced kid, relieved once they're out in the hallway safely. He examines those who had escaped ahead of them- Barrett, Ziggler, Team Friendship, and Orton- and sneers as he loops an arm around Alex's shoulders, leading him to a quieter part of the hallway.
"Who do you think will get taken out this time?"
"Slater, probably. He hadn't moved for awhile." As he walks by, he notes as the former Nexus leader's jaw twitches, rolling his eyes. Hopefully we don't get stuck with two angry idiots out for vengeance... Either way his words are proven correct as they all make it out- but Slater, the door closed tightly on the carnage that had befallen the West Virginia native. None of them can ignore the tight stare that Wade has locked on Reks' back as they continue on to the next room, Alex and Mike exchanging glances. "If I had brought some money, we could bet on who will win this upcoming confrontation," the former Real World contestant mutters as they all enter the room, unsurprised to find it's an exact replica of the previous room- except that this one, too, has a mini-fridge.
"Oh great," Alex mumbles. "Just what we need, little bottles to use as weapons." Mike half smiles, the door barely shut before the turmoil begins, Barrett lunging for Reks and hitting a few solid strikes to his jaw and upper body. As the rest shy away from those two, letting them go at it, Dolph bumps into Mike and immediately spins around, swinging out and clocking him straight in the back of the head, sending him back into Alex.
Hissing, he dives at Dolph and hits him back, the two of them brawling blindly until they end up in the vincinity of the quietly bickering tag team champions, Daniel and Kane continuing to snap back and forth "Yes!" "No!" and other nonsense while Kane lifts Dolph for a chokeslam and Daniel flips Mike around until he's held in the No Lock!, struggling desperately to get to something, do something to break the hold. Finally he ends up in range of the mini-fridge's handle, opening it just enough to clock Daniel in the head with it, sending the younger man off of him with a cry of pain.
Getting back to his feet, he finds that Dolph has also freed himself, clinging to Kane in a sleeperhold that even the bigger man is showing effects of, sinking slowly to his knee next to the bed. Mike rolls his eyes and leaves them to it, trying to find Alex in the melee. He almost isn't surprised to find him caught between Rodriguez and Del Rio, Ricardo mocking him with slaps and Spanish babbling while Alberto wrenches back on his arm. He's on them within moments, throwing Ricardo backwards against the mini-fridge before kicking Del Rio in the side of the head, causing him to release Alex. When he stands, offended, and tries lunging, Mike steps aside and he overshoots by a far margin, Ricardo moving quickly to assist him as he stumbles.
The two struggle to maintain their balance, glowering at Miz and Alex before moving away, Ricardo's huffy Spanish still echoing in Mike's ears as he kneels down by Alex. "You alright?"
"Ye-yeah," he breathes, sweaty and gingerly rotating his arm. "How about you? I saw Daniel grab you but before I could get over there, well..."
"I'm fine." He glances around the room, taking in what's going on around them, before gripping Alex by the hand and helping him up. "You going to be ok?"
"Sure, sure." They move then, uncomfortably aware of how vulnerable they are here. They turn in time to see a flash of light glinting upon something glass, Barrett striking Reks in the head with one of the bottles from the mini-fridge. Alex winces as little shards of glass go all over, relieved even more for their heavyduty boots and sneakers. The tall man dropping to his knees, Barrett's on him immediately with a rear naked choke, wrenching back roughly every now and again.
Skirting around them, Mike keeps a tight hold on Alex and ends up by the door as a staggering Dolph Ziggler stumbles through it, following him. They both breathe a sigh of utmost relief once they're out in the hallway, pleased to be far away from Reks and Barrett's brawl. The further along the hotel they all go, the more damage they're all taking, the more desperate the attacks get. He's almost surprised it's taken this long for one of them to outright lose it, his eyes skittering to the side as he walks by a smirking Orton, who seems to be enjoying all of this madness.
A still annoyed looking Del Rio and Ricardo make it out next, followed by Daniel Bryan and Kane a few moments later, which leaves Barrett and Reks inside. The door had shut too quickly for anyone to get a good glimpse of what was going on inside of the room, Alex and Mike exchanging a glance as they wait to see the end result of this brawl. They're all starting to get restless from waiting when the door rattles with some force, even the referee looking unsettled as there's a hoarse yell inside, and more crashing. Finally all falls quiet and they hold their breath as there's a simple knocking on the door, the referee reluctantly opening the door. As soon as it's wide open, Wade Barrett saunters out with a deeply satisfied gleam in his eyes like he'd just won his first world title or something. Even in the dull light of the hallway, dark blood visibly stains his hands, only adding to the tension in the hallway.
Mike sighs as they head to the next room, making note to keep a close eye on Barrett from here on. He's going to be difficult to eliminate.
The next room seems to go by in a blink of an eye. Barrett doesn't even seem to care who he's attacking now, the bloodlust from the other room seemingly waking up something in him- be it from his Nexus days, or from his bareknuckle fighting days, but he immediately dives into the sea of humanity surrounding him and begins waylaying anyone who gets in his way. Mike is just barely pulled to safely after one of his ridiculous elbows to the face by Alex, who drags him into a corner as far away from Wade as possible. He catches his breath and looks around, unsurprised to find all four corners taken by people desperate to get away- Daniel Bryan and Kane, Del Rio and Ricardo, Hunico and Camacho. They all appear to be waiting for their chance, whispering quietly to each other.
Oddly enough, Ziggler and Orton are in the middle of the room, trying to work together against Wade- or more like, trying to survive against him, just happening to be united in their goal. Mike actually realizes just how the field is narrowing, appreciating how much less opposition he has to work against now. He glances over his shoulder at Alex, wondering what would happen if, by some miracle, this comes down to him and his former NXT rookie. Deciding to cross that bridge when he comes to it, he squares his shoulders and looks back at the fighting still going on in front of him.
Wade apparently gets sick of waiting for the places in the next room to be filled and, slinging Orton over his shoulder into the wall behind him, the Viper falling to his knees basically at Ricardo and Alberto's feet, the older man pulling the ring announcer away just in case, grabs Dolph carelessly by the hair and drags him to the door, roughly rapping against the wood. Those remaining watch in confusion as, once the door is opened, he slings him out of the room and then turns to Orton, lips twitching upwards. Still out of it from the harsh landing, Randy's struggles are lame and unhelpful as he's dragged over to the door too and rudely tossed out as well.
The four teams in their corners all stand at attention, waiting to defend themselves against Barrett's rampage, his dark eyes passing from person to person as he weighs who to go after next. Daniel and Kane are pushing at each other, Kane annoyed at being used as a shield yet again by his tag partner. Ricardo nervously clings to his employer's clothes, mumbling in his ear, Alberto tilting his head just enough to listen to his suggestions while his dark, beady eyes are locked on the Brit. Camacho has a protective arm in front of Hunico, standing tense and obviously just waiting for the first move to be made against their corner, ready to defend his friend at all cost. On the other hand, Miz and Alex now stand shoulder to shoulder as they wait and watch, the former WWE champion holding his breath as Barrett's eyes pause on them briefly.
Mike blinks as he turns and attacks Camacho, sending him back against Hunico, who yells out in protest and tries to get around the larger man's off-balanced body to punch Wade, just to get an elbow to the jaw for his troubles. They can't get the advantage, still out of it from the bareknuckle fighter's surprisingly quick attack, and eat more precise, solid punches to the sternum and face before he alerts the referee to open the door and slings Hunico out, Camacho quickly following him into the hallway. He smirks, brushing his hands together as if rubbing off invisible dust from his palms before turning to the others. "Two down," he says smoothly. "Five to go. Who wants to stay, mates?"
All six of them stay in their corners, Wade starting to look impatient yet again, when finally they all come to a silent agreement, lunging for the tall man. He seems to have been waiting for this, however, side stepping into the corner that had once been held by Camacho and Hunico, the six all crashing into each other as a result. Mike groans, his head throbbing from where it'd crashed into Daniel's. Well, that wasn't well-thought out, he thinks, trying to blink away the daze. The light shining into his eyes is blocked as something dark crosses over his face, large hands tight around Daniel's neck, lifting him ruthlessly from where he's laying next to Miz on the ground. Another knock on the door and Daniel's slung out into the hallway.
"Hey!" Kane snarls at Barrett, trying to attack him just for the Brit to sidestep again and the Big Red Monster stumbles out of the room into the hallway, inadvertantly following his tag team partner.
Alex helps Mike to his feet and they find Del Rio and Rodriguez across from them, looking to be in the same unsettled, uncoordinated condition, as Ricardo tries yet again to support the taller Mexican aristocrat. So, us four against Barrett... now what? Mike thinks, his hands clenching at his side.
Dark eyes passing from the former NXT pro and rookie to the wrestler and his ring announcer, Barrett laughs, his hands folded across his chest as he stands patiently. "So pathetic," he mumbles, Mike and Alex remaining quiet even as Alberto bristles, Ricardo muttering something in Spanish. He tilts his head, his smirk only growing as he examines them, eyebrow raised. "Hmm." Turning his attention to the other corner, he smirks at Mike. "Well, well. Lucky you, it's your turn, boys." He rushes them, Alex barely able to even lift his hands up in defense before they're both grabbed and dragged from the corner. Despite how long he had been out only months earlier for an elbow injury, Mike is startled and even a little impressed by his pure strength.
Alex continues to struggle, probably not wanting to advance in this fashion, Wade rolling his eyes and releasing him just long enough to elbow him harshly in the back of the skull. As he falls forward, Mike winces and catches Wade's glance, unsettled by the look there. "Hey, we don't want trouble," he finally says, holding his hands up. "Look, you want us out, we'll go." He's not sure why those involved had had problems with it anyway, Barrett kicking them out of the room meaning that they get to survive for awhile longer. He grips Alex by the collar, walking quickly to the door and trying to ignore how Barrett is closely following them. He raps his knuckles against the wood and sighs in relief once he drags Alex out with him to the dimly lit hallway where all of the still-recovering prior victims of Wade are scattered around, glaring at them in confusion.
"Why did he let you just walk out?" Daniel grouses, still rubbing the arm that had smacked so roughly into the wall.
"Because, Bryan, unlike you, I know how to handle situations," he says, voice bleeding with disdain. "You alright, Alex?"
"Yeah," the younger man mumbles. "Who's inside still other than Barrett then?"
"Del Rio and Rodriguez." They're standing at an angle that they can see inside of the room and Mike's eyes widen as the door opens once more, Barrett holding a struggling Ricardo tightly by his tux jacket, shaking him as he tries to push him out of the room. Del Rio is nowhere to be seen, the ring announcer's panic visible even from out in the hall.
"Stop struggling!" he snarls at him, growing all the more annoyed when the younger man digs his fingers into the wood panelings on either sides of the door, trying to keep himself from getting thrown out and risking Alberto's disqualification from the contest. Suddenly Alberto appears, kicking Barrett in the back of the skull with one of his vicious kicks, Rodriguez's tight hold onto the door the only thing keeping him from spilling out into the hallway from the momentum of the large Brit falling into him before dropping to the side, landing with a hard crack knee-first on the thinly carpeted floor. Despite the trouble having passed right now, Del Rio looks pale and unfocused, barely noticing the wide opened door only feet away from him.
Ricardo, realizing his employer's weakness, moves surprisingly quick, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him out of the room. Alberto's answering grip on him is weak, the man still feeling the affects of whatever Barrett had done to him, and it slips away as a tattoo'd arm appears from the side, grabbing Rodriguez tightly by the back of the tux, dragging him back inside ruthlessly before he could step beyond the threshold to join his employer. It takes Alberto a moment to realize that he's alone, that the door had been shut once more, that... His dark eyes narrowing suspiciously, he slaps a hand on the wood separating him from his ring announcer. "Ricardo!"
But there's nothing to be done other than listen to the scuffle going on inside the hotel room, Del Rio ignoring the others behind him as he takes it all in, suspiciously pale under his tan. His shoulders are tense as he presses a hand to the door, obviously desperate to get inside and do something, but unable to. After a minute, there's a loud crash that makes most of the wrestlers in the hall jerk in surprise, Alberto letting loose a snarl at the barrier keeping him from seeing the man he'd professed on national TV merely weeks ago was his only friend.
There's a knock and Del Rio all but lunges at the referee. "Open the door! Now!"
"Del Rio, I can't do it with you right here, take your place by the wall," the referee tells him, eyes wide with fear. They stare at each other for a long, tense moment, before finally the Mexican storms over next to Mike, staring harshly at the back of the referee as he unlocks the room, no one surprised when Barrett saunters out of there, looking like the cat that'd ate the canary. The ref swallows slightly as he shuts the door and turns to the line of wrestlers behind him. "Continue on to the next room," he orders the frozen superstars there as Barrett is already moving on.
After what he'd done in this room to people, not a one of them are in any hurry to follow him, but Del Rio moves forward once more, staring the shorter man down. "Get Ricardo out of there now."
"Per AJ Lee's rules, I am not permitted to open the door while you all are here- you have to continue on," he tells him.
"I do not care about AJ Lee's rules!" he growls at the man. "Get him out. Now." When the official doesn't make any move to fulfill Del Rio's command, the Mexican aristocrat twitches like he's doing all he can to not punch the man before him, when Ricardo may need his assistance. "If he is injured and you have delayed in helping him, I will make you pay personally," he tells him. Turning sharply on his heel, he looks at the loitering superstars behind him and storms towards them, desperate to push things along so Ricardo can get taken out of the room and helped, if needed. "Move, perros!"
None of them are anxious to move ahead and meet up with Barrett, but there's a maddened look growing in Del Rio's eyes too and the last thing any of them want is another superstar losing it and going on a rampage, so they begin to file out. Probably still too slowly for the antsy Mexican's tastes, but at least they're moving, up another flight of stairs to the fourth floor and down a hallway to the room marked with a large, bolded 1. When they arrive at the room, Del Rio storms up to a waiting, sneering Barrett. "What. Did. You. Do?" he hisses, nose to nose with the man.
Wade only looks more amused and the rest of them exchange glances, unsettled all the more by this. Miz wonders who will go in this next room, certain it'll be either of the two glowering men, and his thoughts seem to be coming true as Del Rio and Barrett spend the first few minutes in the room just trashing each other, everyone else ducking aside as the two men lay it all out there, throwing each other into walls, against the furniture, any other surface they can find. They actually take it so far that, upon Barrett hitting the door hard and slumping down to the floor, it splinters. A minute later he reverses Del Rio's forward motion, sending him harshly into the solid surface and they all hear as it cracks completely and bends outwards, the wood unable to handle both of the men's weight.
Collecting themselves, the Brit and Mexican make it to their feet and examine each other, Alberto brushing away blood from a cut on his arm as Wade wipes disdainfully at his mouth, smearing his own blood across his chin and only adding to their maddened appearances. With a rough snarl, Del Rio takes another run for him, this time clipping him in the side and sending him flying back once more into the already shattered door, everyone's jaws dropping as the door completely gives this time, falling out into the hall and bringing the two men with it. They all watch, shocked, as the two continue to fight and struggle on the outside until the referee pulls them apart, warning them repeatedly until Barrett storms off down the hallway and out of sight of those still in the door. Del Rio screams insults in Spanish out to him before huffing off in the opposite direction.
Alex coughs awkwardly. "Well, that was fun," he mumbles, half smiling as Mike nods. There are still eight men in the room, waiting for their chance to rush to the now-visible hallway. The referee has his work cut out for him, Barrett and Del Rio still a combustible situation, and having to watch out for those escaping the room to make sure no shenanigans continue on there too, since the barrier he would've used to monitor such things is now shattered in pieces on the hallway floor.
John Morrison stands outside of his car, taking a few minutes to stretch his legs, get some fresh air. Mike and Alex had invited him to North Carolina back when they'd first heard of this strange contest, the three of them not seeing a lot of each other since Summerslam weekend. It had somehow worked out, his responsibilities giving him just enough time to come here, hang out with the guys before they all have to go their separate ways once more before the week's Smackdown. It's a creepy evening, even he has to admit. He generally doesn't put much stock into such things, his cool not ruffled by much, but there's something in the air here... He's not sure what it is, exactly, just that he doesn't like it. At all.
"Be safe, Mike, Alex," he mumbles before turning back to his car to continue on to where they'd agreed to meet up once they'd been freed from whatever craziness AJ Lee had thought up.
Ziggler, always the extreme opportunist, tries taking a run for the exit but Orton is waiting, clipping him with a clothesline that sends him flipping to the floor hard. The Apex Predator sneers down at him before looking around at the others, still waiting on baited breath for anything else to happen. When no one makes a move, he turns and saunters towards the door, looking every inch the calm, emotionless snake.
The two remaining tag teams move at once- Hunico, Camacho, Daniel and Kane all rushing for the door at the same time, just to meet each other in the very small space. They all stare at each other, disdain and loathing on their faces, before Hunico lunges at Daniel, Camacho meeting Kane head on. The four men argue and exchange blows, not a one of them noticing as Dolph crawls past them and out of the splintered door, wincing as he shifts over the shattered pieces of wood to the hallway.
Mike and Alex exchange glances, heading hesitantly for the door themselves, when Hunico, overwhelmed by Daniel's punches and kicks, lunges towards Camacho, the larger man quickly extracting himself from his show-off with Kane enough to pull his friend away from Bryan, punching the approaching shorter member of Team Friendship solidly in the jaw and sending him to the floor, dazed. Kane, of course, takes exception to this and goes after Camacho, dragging him away from Hunico and sending him into the wall face first. Camacho, sinking to the floor, isn't a problem again as Kane boots Hunico clear out of the door, where he almost lands on a still recovering Ziggler.
Kane then turns back to a still downed Daniel, finding him glaring upwards at him. "What?"
"I didn't need your help!" he snaps.
"Yes you did."
"No!"
"Yes!"
"No!"
"Yes!"
The two continue yelling over each other as Miz and A-Ri, taking a page from Ziggler's book, ventures past them and out of the door. It takes a few minutes before they realize that, outside of a stirring Camacho, they're the only ones remaining in the room. Still glaring viciously at each other, they finally leave through the destroyed door, Hunico only able to look on as his friend and tag partner makes it to his feet just for the referee to order him to stay inside, that he'd been eliminated.
The man kicks the wall as Camacho talks to him in Spanish, frustrated that he's unable to do anything to assist his friend. Finally he turns sharply and storms away, the others trailing behind him slowly. Between his tension and Barrett and Del Rio's implosions, the rest of them are all unsettled and uncomfortable with the situation they find themselves in.
"This is just getting better and better," Mike sighs, Alex's lips twitching as they walk shoulder to shoulder into the next room.
"What do you want to do?"
He glances over at the younger man, realizing that yeah, they could do something... "Well, now that you ask..."
As soon as they're all inside, the door shut securely behind them- for now- Mike takes off one way, Alex going the other. Neither give Barrett or Del Rio the chance to finish what they'd started earlier, Mike quickly punching Del Rio in the face while Alex elbows Wade in the jaw, both larger men off-balanced by the sudden attacks. Despite his best attempts, Alberto is still reeling from the damage he'd taken from Barrett prior, and can't quite get ahead of Miz, trying to lunge at him once some separation has been made between them, just for Mike to think quickly and drop toe-hold him onto the rough floor. He yells and rolls away, holding onto his face, Mike wondering briefly if his nose will look as bad as Wade's now before looking up for Alex.
His former rookie is standing on the other side of the room, winded and gasping in the corner as Barrett wails on him, fists moving so fast that Mike almost can't keep track. "HEY!" he yells, rushing over and slamming into Wade, immediately stopping his offense and sandwiching him between he and Alex. Pushing him back off, he throws him aside and drags Alex out of the corner. "You alright?"
"Yeah," he pants, wiping at his lips. "Never been better." He leans over, struggling to catch his breath as Mike rests his hands between his shoulderblades, watching Wade with a sneer. When the Brit rushes towards them, Mike finds that he too has been slowed down due to everything and easily pushes Alex aside, going to the left and letting Wade smack face first into the wall. Amused and feeling pleased to find both men down and out, he grabs A-Ri once more and moves to a more safer part of the room for him to regroup.
Kane and Daniel are in the corner, arguing as always, Hunico and Orton exchanging blows and Dolph is lurking around, watching all of them. Mike sneers as their eyes lock, considering going after him just for kicks, but the moment passes when Dolph ventures too close to the tag champs and Kane notices, quickly taking a step towards the bleach blond, who scampers back the way he'd come. Mike bites back laughter at this, distracted when Alex nudges him- Barrett is up already, their eyes widening as he stumbles their way just for Kane, raging still over Daniel's nonstop picking, to grab him by the throat and chokeslams him right then and there, startling everyone by the sound of his body slamming into the floor.
"God!" Alex mutters, cringing as the dark haired man writhes around on the floor, Kane ruthlessly stepping over him like it's an every day occurence. Even Daniel is silenced, unsettled by the vicious physicality his tag partner had just shown... reminded again that, should Kane ever lose control of himself, that could be him someday. That it probably will be.
Del Rio, a wicked sneer on his thin lips, walks right by him, pausing only long enough to roughly kick him in the chest before carrying on, a new determination in his gait- as if the sound of Wade choking and struggling behind him is some kind of soundtrack while he leaves the room, joining Team Friendship in the hallway.
It's pretty clear that things here are pretty much wrapped up, even Hunico and Orton's fight still on-going not reaching the levels of damage that Barrett had in a short amount of time, so Miz motions to Alex, walking around Barrett to the door. Neither say anything as Ziggler seems to also take the hint and head that way as well, the three of them exchanging wary glances. "Ladies first," Miz says with a rude smirk, holding a hand out to the door mock-gallantly, as Dolph glowers at him.
Alex laughs shakily, also feeling the effects physically and emotionally from the last few rooms, and pushes past Dolph, knocking rapidly. As soon as the referee opens the door, he slips out and takes a deep breath, relieved to be out of the rooms again. He's getting worn down with it all and Mike looks at him worriedly as he follows, Dolph slipping down into the shadowy hallway to wait for the foregone conclusion to happen already. "Are you ok?"
"Yeah, yeah, of course I am," he mumbles. "I just... this is insane, Mike. What are we even doing this for? I mean, we don't know what AJ has planned at the end of this. It could be... a whole lot of nothing, you know? And here we are, injuring each other, losing our minds over it." He slumps down. "I'm sorry, it's just been a long night."
Mike sighs, leaning against the wall so he's shoulder to shoulder with Alex. "I understand, it could be really pointless. But you know what I kind of hope?"
"What?"
"That Del Rio was right. That the prizes are individualized. That AJ gives me what I've made obvious to her I've wanted from the beginning."
Alex stares at him, his eyes narrowing. "Morrison's job?" he whispers after a second, Mike nodding slightly. "I never even thought of that. Is that why you invited him here?"
"Part of it," Mike says with an almost sheepish shrug. "I wanted to see him, of course, it's been much too long... but, yeah, I wanted to be able to tell him face to face if I somehow survive this and win."
Alex's lips twitch slightly. "You're a good friend, Mike."
He laughs bitterly at this, nudging Alex. "Oh come on, Alex. I'm selfish and I'm annoying. Haven't you heard that about me yet?" But his eyes soften none-the-less as he stares at his feet. "I really do try to be, though."
"And you succeed." They stare at each other, smiling slightly, before the door is opened once more, looking up as one while Orton callously throws Hunico out of the room.
"Get out there," his deep, low voice snaps before he wanders out of the room too, looking pleased with himself as Hunico slumps against the wall, mumbling insults under his breath.
Miz can see inside the room from where he's standing, watching as the door is closed on Wade Barrett, who has just barely managed to sit up against the wall, hand held tightly to his mid-section, and is staring out into the hallway, his dull eyes boring into Mike's until the room is shut up completely. Shaking his head, the former champion turns to Alex. "C'mon, kid. Let's go."
They trudge down the hallway, their surroundings subtly changing due to a more moody kind of lighting, and for a wild moment, Mike things that Sin Cara will come out of nowhere and be a surprise entrant to the competition, but once he nears the room, he understands immediately. "No. Way."
"Way," Alex laughs at his exasperation, peering in through the glass doors of the place that they're to enter momentarily. "Ready to compete in a restaurant?"
"If I didn't know that AJ had a hand in all of this, I wouldn't believe it," Mike groans.
"Maybe they left some food behind for us," the younger man suggests, his lips twitching as his friend glowers up at him. "What, you don't want to be involved in a food fight?"
"No!" he groans as he follows him inside, blinking at the tables set up around the room, chairs balanced precariously on top of them, like the restaurant had been set up just for their convenience in killing each other further. "Crap," he mumbles, catching sight of Del Rio gazing around shrewdly. "We're screwed." The only slight positive in all of this is that Barrett had been eliminated just before they arrived here, the various potential weapons scattered around leaving Mike feeling ill.
Even Alex looks worried, weighing their competition. As if being stuck in a room like this with The Devil's Favorite Demon and The Viper isn't worrying enough, you throw in Daniel, Ziggler, Del Rio and Hunico, and... well... "You might be right," he mumbles back. When the doors are clicked shut, both men startle slightly. "Well, here we go."
"Good luck."
"You too." They clap hands quickly before turning their attention back to the six men also waiting for their moment to strike, no one really surprised when Del Rio makes the first move, collecting a chair from one of the tables and brandishing it in front of him as both a shield and offensive item.
Kane's laugh at this echoes around the walls, creeping everyone out all the more. Daniel shies away from his demented tag partner and stands between a table and wall, hands held secure on the wood as he keeps an eye on his opponents, lips turning down in an unhappy frown. "Stop that!" he screams at Kane, shaking his head back and forth.
"Oh great," Mike sighs.
Del Rio and Hunico seem to get similar ideas, targetting the largest man in the room. Hunico dives at him, landing rough punches and kicks, knees to his sternum following, the Mexican aristocrat rushing closely behind and kicking Kane along the side of the skull when it seems he's about to rally, sending him to his knees briefly.
Orton seems content to leave them to this fruitless endeavor, turning his attention to a still lurking Dolph Ziggler. He smirks, shifting his position until the Show Off backs up right into him, stiffening. "Well, hello there," he mutters in his ear before dropkicking him solidly between the shoulderblades, causing him to faceplant into the hard tiles.
It's so dark in the room that Mike isn't sure what he's standing by, thinking it's another wall, until Daniel ventures out from his hiding spot, surprising him as he rushes forward and drop kicks him right in the face, sending him crashing backwards into the walls, just for them to give and divide, sending him backwards into... the kitchen. He stares backwards at the various, gleaming surfaces, and winces as fresh dread wells up within him. "Son of a bitch," he breathes.
His hands twitching, he scrambles to his feet as Daniel follows him in, an intrigued look on the parts of his face not blocked by that uncontrollable beard. "Well, well, looky here. You found yourself a kitchen," he taunts Mike, the doors swinging shut behind them.
As he wanders further into the room, Mike swallows and looks around for something to defend with. "Better watch yourself, Daniel. This equipment around here probably touched a lot of meat in its day. We know you don't respond well to such barbariac things..." As the tag team champion sneers and gets even closer, his fingers passing along a line of silverwear and other utensils sprawled across the counters, eyes pausing curiously on a meat mallet, both men are surprised when the doors are slammed open once more, A-Ri appearing and repaying the favor by dropkicking Daniel before either can respond.
"Thank God," Mike grumbles as Alex grips his arm, standing between him and the snarling man struggling to his feet. "I didn't even know this kitchen was here!"
"I wouldn't have considered it myself, except that Dolph managed to knock Orton out with his sleeper hold and tried to escape- just for nothing to happen, a referee was there but waved him off. The way we entered isn't the exit, Mike. I figured there had to be another door around here somewhere, and I kind of put two and two together when I saw you fall in here. So there should be a..." He wanders around the various islands and counters, peering through the equipment. "Yes!" He looks back at his former mentor, smiling brightly. "Come on, Mike. The exit's right here, through these plastic bins."
"What would I do without you, Alex-" he's in the process of asking, taking a step- or trying to. Something has a tight hold on his ankle and, already off-balanced from the precarious position he'd been frozen in since Alex had saved him, he topples right over, landing next to a viciously glaring Daniel.
"NO!" he screams right in his face, making his way to his feet.
"Alex-" Mike yells as loudly as he can, struggling anew and kicking Daniel in the knee, the shorter man crying out as his feet are knocked out from under him once more when Alex dashes up and clotheslines him against the counter.
As soon as Daniel's down, he reaches out and grabs Mike by the forearms, pulling him to his feet. "Are you ok?!"
"Yeah," he pants. "Thanks. Again." They only take a few moments, Alex making sure Daniel won't cause more trouble, and Mike catching his breath, before he fights to take a full breath. "You said something about a door?" He smiles as Alex's face lights up, immediately looping his arm across his best friend's shoulder. "Lead the way."
This door is more secure than the glass one they'd entered through, Alex and Mike knocking as one until the referee comes and lets them out. They're only out there a few minutes when the door is opened again to allow Kane out, dragging along a still discombobulated Daniel with him. Orton is next, followed by Del Rio and Hunico, both looking rather the worse for wear but decidedly better than Ziggler, who they can hear pointlessly banging on the door, his voice growing more and more ragged the longer he begs, yells through the door to be let out.
Mike almost feels bad for him. But the show must go on, and thus it does. While they leave the restaurant behind, relieved to do so, Miz counts who's left. Counting himself, seven in total. They already knew one- the winner- would be going onto the roof, and the last two fighting this to the end in the penthouse... which means five ordinary rooms left. He sighs. Well, as long as none of them are restaurants, we should be alright... I hope.
Similar to how it had ended up in the room that Rodriguez had been eliminated from, he and Alex are holed up in one corner, Daniel and Kane in another, and Hunico and Del Rio in the third, leaving Orton out in the middle of the room, as always the loner, watching them all with a lazy, careless kind of smirk. It feels like a weird version of spin the bottle when finally Orton's focus turns to Del Rio and Hunico, the smirk leaving his face rather abruptly. Mike releases a breath as he runs for the two, methodically taking them out with strikes and kicks.
Leaving those three to it, Miz and A-Ri turn to look at the door, unsurprised as Kane and Daniel, mumbling "NO!" "YES!" under their breaths, try to escape. "Oh no you don't," Mike decides, grabbing his former rookie and slamming him right in the jaw with a fist. Kane, confused, turns to see where his tag partner had gone just to get a dropkick from A-Ri, sending him back against the door. Luckily this one holds, though it rattles on its hinges warningly. While Alex struggles to hold his own against Kane, Mike sends Daniel across the room, where he crashes into the bed frame and falls back to lay against the edge of the mattress, touching his midsection with a dark grimace on his face.
Assured that, yet again, he'll be down for awhile, Mike turns to help Alex with Kane and sends him face first into the wall next to the door, not wanting to risk breaking it. Tired of dealing with Kane, and of listening to Team Friendship, he waits until he's sure Alex has a good hold on the still off-balanced Kane before knocking rapidly on the door. As soon as it's open, he grabs Kane's free arm and kicks the door open further before slinging him out into the hallway, dusting his hands off as soon as the room's shut up once more. "One down, four more to go," he sighs.
Hunico is getting trounced by Orton, the Viper kicking his arms, legs, head, anything he can think of to target, when Mike intercedes, kicking him in the back and freeing the younger man. Only then does Del Rio force himself away from the wall, heading over to help. Alex, not interested in the three on one in the corner, heads over to make sure Daniel stays down, finish what Mike'd started. He doesn't think he'll have to do much, just because of how pale and breathless Daniel's looking, but he gives a few half-hearted kicks, sending the original NXT season competitor further back against the bed.
Daniel's tired and in a fair amount of pain so when Orton rallies, taking out Miz, Hunico and Del Rio with wildly thrown fists, Alex leaves him and ducks in as close as he dares, gripping Mike by his collar and getting him out of there, leaving Orton to take out his frustrations on the other two. He drags him to the door and pushes him outside, wincing as the sounds of ridiculous fighting continues on the other side of the door.
It's creepy, being out here alone with the piercing gaze of Kane on their backs, but the referee too is right there, and Alex doubts he'll do anything... for now, so he feels safer here than stuck in that room with the others ready to tear each other apart. Besides, they're both growing more and more beat down with each passing minute so he's relieved that they have this time to recover a little, catch their breath.
It's all too fleeting, however, as the referee opens the door awhile later and Del Rio stumbles out, breathless and far from his usually impeccable self. In any other situation, it'd almost be funny, but Kane's intense stare is on the door, obviously waiting for his erstwhile tag partner to appear, and no one is much in the mood for laughing.
How Hunico escapes Orton's assault, no one knows- perhaps the Viper simply grew tired at the lack of challenge, and let him go-, but he stumbles out of the room a couple moments later, running into the wall next to Mike with a pained groan.
Orton of course is the last one out, Kane snarling as the door is shut on his still downed tag partner. He punches the wall with one gloved hand before storming off to the next room, Mike shaking his head. "Great," he mumbles to A-Ri. "Just what we need, stuck in a room with yet another guy pissed because his associate's been eliminated or injured..."
"Or both," Alex mutters back as they walk side by side up the staircase to the final floor that will end with only two of them going to the penthouse. Neither men are sure if any of them will still have the energy to stand, much less fight, by then, but they're far from ready to give up. "The fact that it's Kane, well..."
"Yeah. We're screwed." Mike sighs, dropping a hand across Alex's shoulders as they continue on up and up. By the time they arrive on the landing, Kane is already pacing outside of the door, mumbling to himself as he flexes his fist. Both men exchange glances when the door is opened, the referee ushering them inside. It almost amuses Mike that the official seems as desperate to wrap this all up as he feels.
Kane spends the first few minutes just skulking around watching them all, which doesn't encourage anyone, even as Orton goes after Hunico, Del Rio wisely holding his hands up and keeping his distance as Randy lays into the younger man with wild fists and uppercuts. Mike is content to stay in the corner, looking on as everyone else gets into their own skirmishes, but it doesn't last as Alberto turns his focus on Alex, drawing him out of the corner with a rough right hand to the jaw. His eyes narrow as his former rookie tries to fight back, the angered Mexican aristocrat only swatting away every bit of offense he attempts like it's nothing, but he doesn't interfere, well-aware that A-Ri needs to handle this fight on his own.
It's only when Alex is distracted by the sound of Orton slamming Hunico face first into the wall behind him, opening him up to Del Rio's rough armbreaker against his knees and the proceeding armbar that stretches his already aching appendage in a way that arms shouldn't go, that Mike gets involved, dropping a hard knee across his midsection and sending him off of Alex, spitting out insults both men's way. Ignoring this, he grabs Alex and leads him away, relieved when the door's in sight- just for Kane to step out in front of them, his demented eyes peering down at them from behind his mask. Mike swallows and stares up at the tall monster, slowly pushing Alex out of the way to safety.
Kane's gaze is intense, like he's branding Mike, and it leaves him shaking, but just like that he steps aside, lips twitching into a vicious sneer. Reclaiming his hold on Alex's uninjured arm, Mike drags him to the door and out once the referee responds, unsettled.
"Mike, what was that?" Alex whispers.
"I think it was his way of telling me who his next target's going to be," the former champion whispers, dark blue eyes wide with horror. They watch quietly as Alberto escapes next, sneering at both men as he walks by, eyes lingering longer than neccessary on the arm that Alex still has held protectively against his chest. Mike glares at his back before hearing Alex mumble out a curse word turning to find Kane leaving the room, his eyes on them as well as he passes by. "This is becoming a nasty tradition," Mike mutters, disgusted at just how unsettled he is feeling. "Now, the trifecta?"
Sure enough, Orton is the third out, meaning that Hunico is eliminated. Mike looks away as the Viper goes by, not even wanting to know if he'll also be glaring at them. "A viper, a monster and an egomaniac enter a room..." he sighs, nudging Alex as he reluctantly heads for the next room.
"Who's the egomaniac again?" Alex asks after a moment, trying to lighten the mood.
"Oh, haha," Miz mumbles, lips twitching despite himself as he shoulderchecks his friend, almost sending him into the wall with an 'oof'.
They're almost at the next room when Alex comes to a sudden stop, his shoulders shaking with laughter. "No way," he hisses, eyes wide with amazement. Mike gives him a funny look until he too sees- the room they're heading to isn't some ordinary room, nope. It's, of all things, a game room with various arcade machines, a crane game, various other things scattered around to entertain bored people or children. "Mike, tell me I'm seeing things," he begs, almost choking on his laughter. "How are we supposed to fight in here?"
"The same way we did in a restaurant, I guess," he sighs, his headache only growing worse as lights flash around them, the machines making various sound effect sounds too. "Crap. I'm going to need the biggest tylenol after this..." His annoyance was nothing compared to Orton's and, to his relief, the Viper storms around the room, finding as many electric sockets as he can and pulling all out of the cords that he can, the room going blissfully dark and quiet all at once. "Hey, what do you know, he's good for something after all."
"Oh my God," Alex mumbles. "They have the old school Pacman games!" He flushes upon realizing the strange looks thrown his way by the other four men, Mike rolling his eyes at him. "Sorry," he mutters, refocusing on the mission ahead.
With the line of game machines on either side of the walls, it makes it even harder for the five 200 to 300 pound men to fit around the room, much less start any kind of worthwhile offense, and Mike isn't all that surprised when his boots snag one of the quarter machines nearby, sending him face first onto the ground.
Alex coughs and leans over, trying to help him regain his balance. "Are you alright?"
"Stop laughing, Alex, it's not funny," Mike snarls, which only makes the younger man fight his laughter even harder. "Dammit." They're just barely on their feet when there's a sick sound of shattering glass nearby, both wincing away from the noise instinctively. "What the-" His words die away as he finds Del Rio nearby, peering over his handiwork with a pleased eye: Orton is sprawled out, motionless, inside of one of the prize cases, DVDs scattered all over the floor around them. "Holy crap," he mumbles, stepping away from the glass as well as he can. He only grows more unsettled when he realizes that Kane is already out of the room, still feeling the lingering creepy sensation from the previous room's encounter with the Devil's Favorite Demon.
Del Rio pays them no mind as he saunters from the room, job done, and even though Mike's not looking forward to the narrowing playing field that will leave him and Alex to deal with Del Rio and Kane in the next room, they can't just stay in here and stare on pointlessly. "Come on," he mutters, heading for the door.
John sits on a balcony, staring out over the dark night sky. He feels a little strange and turns his eyes towards the large hotel just visible on the horizon where Miz and Alex are currently holed up, doing who-knows-what. What's going on over there? he wonders, wishing not for the first time that he could be along side them, make sure things are going well. "Ugh." Needing a distraction, he heads back inside of the hotel room he's waiting at for them, trying to settle down enough to lose himself in meditation while time passes.
He's not sure whether to be relieved or aggravated that the next room is yet another average hotel room- at least there is no excess glass here, and there's more room for them to evade in, but it also means there's more space for Kane to move around in, also, and get a good hold on him for... whatever he has planned. However, Del Rio gets there first, attacking Miz with knees and punches, distracting him sufficiently from keeping an eye on Alex. He fights back as hard as he's able, whipping the Mexican aristocrat's head back with a vicious clothesline and following it up with a few punches of his own, keeping an eye out for any kind of weakness in the other man. There has to be something, he knows, because they're all tired, worn out, and in an impressive amount of pain- kind of have to be after going through sixteen rooms of this already- but he can barely focus on the offense he is managing to land, Del Rio's breathing as loud as his own and blocking out every other sound.
That is, until there's a horrible thud of something human hitting the floor behind him and, almost sensing it somehow, turns slowly on his heel, totally forgetting Del Rio behind him as his eyes lock on Kane holding Alex in place after a tombstone, sneering up at Mike before slowly letting the younger man fall to the rough floor below, thoroughly unconscious. Del Rio's laughter is breathless and a little manic, and it haunts Mike for a long while afterwards, as it meshes with Kane's equally as demented chuckling, the two men leaving them behind as they leave the room to continue on to the next to final room.
Mike knows what he has to do, but it sucks. He kneels down by Alex for a few moments, watching his breathing and checking his pulse, just to make sure. Although he's completely out of it, both things seem regular and strong and Mike releases a deep sigh, his shoulders sagging. "I'm sorry, Alex," he whispers, resting a hand on Alex's. "Hang on, ref'll be here in a minute. You'll be ok."
It's with no lack of trepidation that Mike leaves the room, unsurprised to find the hallway quiet and empty before him, its shadowy creepiness barely registering with him as he walks on alone to the next room, suddenly understanding how they'd all felt- Barrett, Hunico, Del Rio, even Kane himself. He's helpless, anger brimming under the surface, and all he wants to do is rearrange some faces right now. He knows it's not going to be an easy road, considering who he's going to be stuck in a room with shortly, but...
He can't bring himself to care.
Upon entering the room, the three remaining men stare at each other. They've all had varying pasts with AJ Lee- Alberto had had the least active road with her, merely getting put in an unexpected match after accidentally slipping and calling her crazy... Kane had been in a short relationship with her, while competing against Punk and Daniel, but had taken himself out of the race, even though sometimes Miz thinks there's still something there between them... and Mike himself, well. He's not sure what exactly's going on between them, but he definitely wants to win this contest just in case she's planning on giving him what he'd wanted since almost a year ago, his best friend's career back.
Finally they all move at once, Mike going after Kane with a hoarse yell, Alberto taking the opportunity to slam heavy fists across Miz's back while it's turned to him. Kane regroups quickly, however, and slams them both with heavy fists, knocking them away from him. When Del Rio tries to get him again, he boots him harshly in the face and sends him hard to the floor. Mike is a bit more cautious, wiping his face where he'd been punched.
Kane just smirks at him, tilting his head curiously. They stare at each other until Mike grows bored of it, rushing forward and landing a few blows that send him off-balanced, Mike's following it up with laced together hands to the skull knocking him to one knee. Finally he's showing some weakness, Miz thinks with a glint in his eyes, taking a few steps back before dropkicking him, knocking him onto his back. Before he can attempt anything else, Del Rio re-enters the fight and kicks Mike in the back of the head, letting him slump down next to Kane.
Before the rich man can even take a step towards the door, the Big Red Machine sits up and looks right at him, lips twisting in a smirk that unbalances him, sends him back a few steps in the wrong way. There's no escaping it, however, as he gets to his feet spookily fast and grips Alberto by the throat, peering down at him with his infamous mismatched eyes. He peers over his shoulder at Mike as he effortlessly lifts the other man up, high into the air, before sending him crashing down onto the bed- the force of which cracks the frame, folds the mattress in two around the motionless superstar.
Mike can still feel his eyes on him as he turns and walks from the room as if nothing'd just happened. Getting to his feet slowly, the former Intercontinental champion swallows heavily. This is it, he thinks desperately, stumbling for the door and leaving the room as the referee peers from him to Kane, standing by the staircase leading up the final stretch and waiting for the referee to allow them entry onto the penthouse floor, which is only accessible by a special keycard that he has. He's not sure how this penthouse thing is going to go, Kane seemingly determined on paying him back for what had happened to Daniel, but he likewise wants revenge for Alex, the tension already high as they travel up the stairs with the referee between them and another behind them, just in case.
Nothing happens, the four men reaching the top safely, before the referees allow them into the large suite, looking relieved to leave them to it. Same as the other rooms, a winner will only be declared when one knocks on the tall, impressive looking doors to be released. Their eyes lock as the door clicks shut behind them, Mike tense as Kane only continues to sneer.
Mike takes a deep breath and lunges forward, not even knowing what he's going for when large fingers wrap around his throat, choking him out slowly until he regains control of himself and kicks Kane low in the abdomen, winding him. A couple of more kicks and a hard punch to the side of his skull and he's freed, relieved for the separation. Hand on his throat, he rushes forward and clotheslines Kane harshly, throwing all of his weight into it and knocking the taller man into the corner of the room, stumbling back a bit and taking a minute to regroup, gasp for air. But he knows he doesn't have a lot of time, Kane's recovery time ridiculous so he gets back into it quickly, gripping him by the neck and slamming him onto the floor awkwardly, Kane's knees taking more of the blow than his skull.
While he's down there, however, Mike dropkicks him in the head, shooting him backwards onto the floor where he lays for a long moment, peering up at the ceiling while breathing heavily. Not wanting to let up any longer, he begins kicking and punching him in the face, stomping his legs and shoulders, anything he can think of to possibly keep him down. And it seems to work- until he steps back to take a breath and... Kane sits up, seemingly uneffected by all that Miz had been trying. Crap, he thinks despairingly. What do I do?
It doesn't help that he's tired himself, aching in places he hadn't heard from in a long, long time, his strength seeping away as quickly as his energy reserves.
Down in the lobby of the hotel, the trainer had been working over Alex, examining him for a concussion and any other serious injuries as a result of the extended period of time he'd spent in the competition, when he wakes up with a small gasp, his eyes only open a slit. He barely listens to the man's attempt at questioning him to test his alertness, shaking his head. "I need my phone," he chokes out, repeats it again and again until finally it's slapped into his outstretched hand, instinctively pressing number 3. "Morrison," he groans down into the receiver once he hears John's voice faintly. "Mike needs you. Please..." His awareness slips even further and he loses track of the phone, just mumbling, "Hurry..." before he passes clean out once more.
Kane gets him by the neck once more, pushing him back through the room, and he struggles to free himself, unable to do anything as he's pushed back against a wall and held in place, the monster snarling right in his face. It's only when he moves, the cool surface behind him pressing against his flaing neck, that he realizes. It's not a wall- it's... a glass door... which means...
Balcony, he realizes, ill. Remembering what had happened to Orton, he struggles harshly and jerks up, headbutting the taller man awkwardly, hitting him right in the jaw. It hurts, his eyes crossing a bit, and he feels blood trickling down his nose, but he's still held strongly by Kane, wiggling around until he can shift, hitting Kane in the temple with a desperate elbow. His hold finally slips and Kane stumbles back, holding onto his head. Scrambling away from the doors, Mike returns to the middle of the room and watches anxiously as Kane shakes the pain away.
He's barely taken a step when Kane's on him, punching him squarely in the jaw and sending him to the floor. He's struggling to recollect himself- again- when the massive hands wrap around his head, pulling him to his feet. "It's not gonna be this easy, Miz," Kane snarls at him, a vicious gleam in his eyes. Mike can do nothing but watch helplessly as he lifts him up a couple inches off of the ground, drags him back towards the glass doors leading to the balcony.
Before Alex had called, John, still unsettled by this feeling that had been only growing in strength since he'd arrived in this town, had taken to the road again, sitting outside of the hotel that he'd been staring at from his own hotel room only a few moments earlier, when his phone had rang. As soon as the line went dead, he'd slipped towards the front door of the aged building. Trainers and referees are scattered around, providing care to those who needs it, and the lobby is so busy that he finds it not that difficult to slip inside and to the stairwell, looking up at the five sets of stairs ahead of him. "Hold on, Mike. Keep fighting. I'm coming."
It's cold and dark outside, Mike fruitlessly struggling as Kane pushes the doors open and drags him outside, ignoring as he grabs at the door, the handles, anything and everything he can try to hold onto. "No, no," he all but begs, not liking the look on Kane's face, or how high up the balcony suddenly seems from the ground. "What are you doing?" When Kane forces him away from the door, it snapping shut behind them and echoing eerily out, he starts digging his hands into his leather gloves, even desperately grabbing at his mask, anything he can find to hold on to until Kane punches him clear in the face, only his horror keeping him wavering on the brink of consciousness.
Kane sneers at him before slinging him over the side of the balcony, almost looking surprised as he just manages to grab onto the edge before he falls completely, struggling to hold on despite his already being weak. Shaking his head, the Big Red Machine laughs at him. "Well, your unwillingness to die means you can just hang there and watch while I win this contest..." His laughter growing even louder, he walks off. "Have fun."
His fingers are growing numb even as he scrambles to gain more purchase on the balcony ledge, able to see inside of the hotel room as Kane walks closer to the door. This is not how Mike had imagined this competition would end, his life literally hanging in the balance, and... As tears begin to form in his eyes, he breathes raggedly. I'm sorry, Alex. I'm sorry, John. I don't know how much longer I can hold on... Even as he thinks it, his fingers begin to slip on the chilly surface, and... Ugh, God... He's not sure what's scarier- the prospect of not surviving the fall, or suffering grevious, permanently damaging injuries from landing on the pavement below.
Kane's just knocking on the door when it slams open from the outside, Mike's cloudy mind certain that it's over as Kane disappears from view. He barely notices the footsteps rushing his way, eyes slipping closed as his fingers lose their hold, gravity about to claim yet another victim, when... Something warm grips his upper arms, dragging him back both to consciousness and keeping him in place all at the same time. He shudders and looks up, staring into John Morrison's worried brown eyes. "John," he pants, his breath ghosting across his face as he braces himself against the bannister to pull Mike up. Each inch achieved feels like salvation to them both, Mike struggling to help his friend and just managing to plant his feet on the edge of the balcony to help out in pulling himself over.
As John gives one last pull, dragging his exhausted and weak friend back over to safety, Mike's boots catch on the rough surface and send them both falling back against the floor, John winded when his former tag partner falls on top of him. "Crap," he wheezes, his head stinging too from where it had impacted. "Mike, we can't- you have to move," he tells him, somehow working past everything enough to drag him to his feet. "Kane's unconscious in there but it probably won't last for very long. Hurry, hurry." His hands are solid and warm on his back as he pushes him through the room, Mike's eyes adjusting to the faint light as he takes in Kane sprawled out on the floor, a bent chair folded up near him and blood trailing from under his mask down his chin sluggishly.
"How did you-"
"There'll be time for questions later," John tells him softly. "Go, go. I... I'll stay in here and hide, I don't want one of the referees to see me and disqualify you or something. Now go. Win this thing." He makes sure he won't lose his balance while standing by the door and ducks into the shadows, watching as Mike painfully turns and knocks on the door, shoulders held high despite how badly he's trembling as the referee opens the door. He glances back just once before leaving the room, the victor.
Afterwards, he's not sure how he makes it up to the roof, it all a blur to him until he's face to face once more with AJ Lee, her brown eyes sparkling in the spotlights gleaming down upon them. She tilts her head, that weird unreadable smile on her face as she stares at him. "Mike," she greets him. "I'm glad you're the winner." He nods, unable to vocalize anything else as she walks up to him. He still can't believe any of this, the only thought he can focus on being that maybe she really would rehire John...
Unfortunately she likes to toy with people and he's reminded of this as she skips around him, her hair whipping this way and that in the freezing night air that he had just left behind minutes earlier, now forced to wait through yet again. He's tempted to snap at her just to tell him already what the prize is, but he doesn't want to risk this opportunity so he stands on numb legs and watches her, wanting nothing more than to find John and Alex and go sleep for a million years. Finally she stops in front of him, her lips curling up into another smile as she approaches him, ghosting her fingers across his cheek before leaning up on her tippy-toes and pressing a long kiss to his mouth, her eyes closing as she lingers.
He's confused but gives into it, sucking in a deep breath once she pulls away, wiping his lips with a finger. "Congratulations," she tells him before turning and leaving.
He blinks again and again, shaking his head. Was that... "What was that?" he finally asks before she reaches the roof door, his head swimming. No way, no, no way.
"That was your prize, silly. Like I said, I'm glad it was you that won." And just like that, she's gone, slipping back inside the warm security of the hotel.
He stares at the slightly open door and chortles. Falls to his knees and looks up at the full moon overhead and all of the stars dotting the sky around it, totally breaking down into full-on, maddened, laughter. "All of that... for a kiss," he chokes out. "Oh my God. I don't know why I'm even surprised... But I am." He slams a fist against the cold cement roof of the hotel and shakes his head. "I almost died for that. Damn." He continues on in this state of shock until something prickles at the back of his mind- John is stuck in a room with Kane, he reminds himself. Alex is who-knows-where, unconscious. You can't stay here. Move, Mizanin. Move.
He slams the roof entrance door shut behind him as he goes, and he even passes AJ on his way down the stairs to the penthouse, swallowing thickly when he finds it empty. John doesn't respond when he hisses his name, Kane is nowhere to be seen. Dread growing almost unbearable within him, he turns and returns to the stairwell, taking them two at a time- sometimes three- as he rushes down to the first floor.
It's a mad house there, the bulk of all twenty of them still waiting to be looked at by the trainer, or just recuperating. He scans the room, growing only more worried that he can't spot Kane or Morrison in the sea of humanity surrounding him, but he does spot Alex, venturing over to him. Thankfully he's conscious now, if not fully aware, and he reaches out for Mike's hand, smiling slightly when his former mentor meets him halfway, squeezing his fingers. "I'm ok," he mumbles tiredly, eyes fluttering as Mike tsks at him.
"Of course you are." He sits down next to him, not wanting to leave him this vulnerable, no matter how much his body thrums with anxiety over if John had gotten out already, if he's safe.
"Did... John...?" Alex's voice fades away and he sighs. "Did he come?" Catching sight of Mike's confusion, he coughs and whispers, "I called him. I- at least I think I called him. I can't remember..."
Mike sighs, nodding as pieces slowly fall into place. "Yeah, kid, he came. Thank you. It helped a lot." He's distracted briefly from his maddening thoughts, taking a quick glance around the room. Del Rio's eyes are locked on him from where he stands next to Ricardo, the two talking lowly in Spanish as the ring announcer holds a towel to a bloody wound on his forehead, looking pale and exhausted. He has no doubt that they're insulting him every other word, but he doesn't really care, turning back to Alex. Deciding to keep all that had happened from the younger man for now, he leans over and runs a hand through Alex's hair, smoothing it down. "Rest, alright? I gotta go look for him."
Alex blinks a few times, then nods. "Alright, Mike."
He's worried. He's scared. He's a ton of things that he can't even properly vocalize right now. As he ventures out of the hotel, shuddering at the cool night air that greets him for the third time in the last hour, he takes a breath, almost expecting Kane to come out of nowhere and attempt to chokeslam him in the middle of the street or something. He's about to go to the car, drive over to the hotel that John had said he'd be waiting at for them, when he hears the bushes rustling behind him. Paling, he takes deep breaths and slowly turns around, examining the area around the hotel. It's too dark for him to see anything and he really isn't sure what he'd do if it was Kane, or, well, a robber or just any whack job out to kill him- it is just that kind of night, after all- but soon enough the form that melts out of the shadows becomes familiar to him and he relaxes, smacking an approaching Morrison as his shoulders slump.
"Don't scare me like that!" he hisses, John's laughter soon dying away as he realizes that Mike truly looks at the end of his rope.
"Hey, hey," he rests his hands on the other man's shoulders, squeezing gently. "Sorry, I just was being stupid. What's wrong?"
Mike shakes his head, slapping a fist against John's chest. "Do you know what the big prize was? The one I almost fell off of a balcony to win? That Alex got concussed over?" When John shakes his head, Mike laughs, sounding- and feeling- about as mad as he'd been back on the roof. "A kiss," he hisses. "The grand prize was a kiss from AJ." Morrison looks so floored that it's almost funny but instead of continuing to laugh, Mike's shoulders begin to shake as the tension and non-stop adrenaline rush from the last few hours finally leave him empty and cold, his emotions taking over.
"God, Mike," John hisses, holding an arm out to him, frozen in mid-movement like he's not sure if he should pull him closer or just let him be for a little bit, but his answer comes as Mike makes the first move, burying his face in John's chest, hiding his shame and disgust in the folds of his jacket. "It's gonna be ok," he mumbles, wrapping an arm around his friend and just holding on as he struggles to accept that the last few hours have been a huge chain of unneccessary events, one after the other. Which, when Mike thinks about it with growing anger, kind of describes his whole WWE career lately.
"I don't know what to do anymore," he mumbles, clinging to the warm fabric beneath him. "It's like every time I accomplish anything, it immediately gets swept out from underneath me or undermined in some way." A part of him knows it's wrong to unload like this on John, when he'd been released from WWE almost a year ago after many of the same career frustations that Mike is currently suffering through, but he can't help it.
"It's ok," Morrison soothes, slowly running a hand up and down his back, half to warm him and half to calm him. "You'll see, Mike. One way or another." They stand there for a bit longer before John nudges him, turning him towards the hotel. "Come on, let's go get Alex away from the trainer, we'll make sure he's ok and then spend the rest of the night watching crappy horror movies while keeping an eye on him, or... whatever you're up to, alright?"
Mike doesn't move immediately though, staring blankly out past John's shoulder at the hotel that he never, ever wants to see again after tonight. "One thing," he mumbles. "How did you get up to the penthouse? There were referees out there, and you needed a keycard to access the stairwell."
John smiles slightly, trailing a hand across his shoulder before squeezing it gently. Curious Mike means a more normal Mike, means that he'll slowly start to move past this. "Let's just say one of the referees owed me a favor and I didn't get to cash in before I was fired." He gives him a few more moments before the cold starts to get to him too. "You ready to go in and get Alex?"
He nods wearily, leaning on John as they make their way back to the hotel. "Alright. Sounds good," he says faintly.
The suggested movie plans don't last very long as he falls asleep in the first ten minutes, leaving John to watch over both of them, and he would ordinarily feel bad about that... until he wakes up the next morning to find John dozing close to him, a sea of crinkled up candy wrappers pouring from his clothes and hair when he tries to stand up. "What the hell?!" he hisses, narrowing his eyes at his friend. When he doesn't even stir at his voice, his face softens and he brushes off the few remaining bits of wrapper from his clothes. "You're lucky I like you," he sighs, turning aside to check on Alex, who is also fast asleep.
He winces, every muscle in his body complaining after last night, as he sits down next to Alex, peering at his two friends. Things feel a little better in the morning, somehow clearer, and he smiles faintly. He has two of the best friends a guy could have, and yeah, his career's still not where he'd like it to be but he knows that these things ebb and flow. Even AJ's wackiness can't keep him down forever. He'll be fine. He always is. "Happy Halloween, guys."