Salem could feel his breath stolen from the force of Major's shoulder colliding with his sternum, feeling as though he were being hit by a Mack truck as his body bent unnaturally against the canvas. His eyes closed - he didn't know for how long, only that the world around him went dark and cold behind his heavy eyelids for those brief few moments. It was like drowning...the numbness, the fatigue, the way the audience's reaction to what Salem was oblivious to sounded like waves crashing all around him. But when his vision finally did return, it was to a most disturbing sight.
There, standing above him with bat in hand, was a hooded character of a questionable persuasion. 'When had he entered the ring?' Salem thought to himself. Was the match already over? He couldn't tell, but it seemed as though Salem was of any concern to the new arrival, their attention gravitating towards Major. Still, there was something ominous about the man's presence, threatening. Not just the bat he wielded, but the look in his eyes as he raised it, towering over the Devil Dog like a vengeful harbinger. As he swung it down, Salem could only watch while the mysterious figure intervened, bringing about an end to the match with the end of his signature bat.
But the assault continued, and even those in the audience had to cringe at the sight of wood being taken to a human body in such a brutal fashion. It was indecent, it was immoral, it was just plain wicked - but none of that seemed to matter to this person, only the sickening sound created from each impact of bat to bone. But then, just as abruptly as it had all began, the attack had ended...bat clunking against the canvas while the lights cut out one final time. Only Salem was wide awake, now...the expression on his face one of pure awe and disbelief as he struggled to sit up, looking over at the wreckage that had just been left in the center of the ring.
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