Welcome to Gaia! ::

The blood would only seep out more and more as Jamie removed the wood chip from Hiro's head that had been keeping the majority of it from spurting out. He was laid out completely, his eyes still rolled back with a view of his brain. Jamie's underhanded tactics in this match had got them to this point, a 38 minute epic. There was nothing left to say, no comments to give, no weapons to use, and no reason for the fans to do anything but boo and groan. Rosario dropped down to the mat, knowing in his heart what probably happened but having no choice but to do his job as there was no way he could justify his hunch. He slapped the mat once, which was to be expected. There was no sudden burst from Hiro this time, he wasn't going to shock the world with a quick kick-out...though a keen eyed viewer at home could see on camera his eyes had returned to their normal position, although slightly glazed over.

It was then when Rosario dropped his hand a second time that there seemed to be some life in Hiro, his foot moving very slowly, fans noticing this as his black boot stuck out against the brownish-white backdrop of the canvas. There was a buzz about, nobody could believe it -- Hiro Shin-Mozas was alive dammit, he was moving, this match would go on, and then maybe Jamie Bader would finally suffer the loss they'd all been hoping for the last half hour. Rosario would lift his hand from the mat and begin to bring it down for the three, and with baited breath the arena went near quiet. They waited. They new. They were prepared to explode, to cheer on the hero in this story...I mean, there was no way this was it, with everything Jamie and Dallas put Hiro through, not even including the home invasion they knew nothing about...certainly this wouldn't end with Hiro's shoulders on the mat.

As Rosario's hand slapped the mat a third time, Hiro's shoulder would pop up ever so slightly...but it was too late. The war had come to an end, the final shot coming from the gun of the outlaw. It was unbelievable. It was unfathomable. It was unforgivable.

The crowd was vehement. His hands slapped, the bell rang but they all knew it. Hiro wasn't done. He wasn't finished fighting his demons and in a blink of the eye his demons we're scrambling away. Rosario looked down. He blamed Hiro at the beginning of the night. He berated Hiro at the beginning of the night. Now he could see the man fighting his own demons and losing. Blood, Sweat, Tears drenched his body and he wasn't done.

Rosario stood up, Looking at his old allies Jamie Bader and Dallas Cruz retreat. Why was he chosen? Why was he the tool for the night? Was it to torture the man below? The man who yelled slurs at the his friends. The Man who attempted to shatter Dallas's jaw. The man who didn't call when his own leg was set ablaze by the walking nightmare known as Blackjack. A man everyone tonight knew.

Rosario looked down at Hiro, and realized just like Dallas, he was too in need. He dropped back down to a knee. Wincing in pain as his leg gave out during his decline. It was done for the night. The injury was too great, but he would no sell it. The fans continued to throw chants and hate at the decision. They Cheated! Hiro was ganged up on! The fact was Rosario didn't see it so he couldn't do anything in his power.

Once down, Rosario checked on Hiro. Seeing if his former ally was at least conscious and not completely out. He needed to know if a medical team was necessary.

As the sinister duo of Black Magik backed up toward the stage, Dallas was kind enough to deposit the title belt, still stained with Hiro's lifeblood, at the foot of the ramp.

Now that reality had a chance to settle in and the music was now freely flowing through his ears, the evil buried deep within Jamie Bader was now freely spilling out. With one arm draped over Dallas's shoulder, he other reached into the waistband of his trunks and pulled out the splinter that was previously embedded in Hiro's head. The redneck would mime playing an air guitar to a chorus of boos before Dallas maneuvered him so that he was not run over by the newly entering medical staff.

As the camera panned up the ramp, past the discarded TV title, past the staff, and focused on Jamie's face. An evil green forced its way through his blonde beard, and the last thing he could be heard saying into the camera was a grim, "Die mad."

Let it be known that on this day the devil had left Gulf Shores and had struck King of the Canvas. Wrestling's hero would never be the same again.