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Salem, fueled purely by passion and instinct, met an impasse as he 'locked horns' with the 'Horned One'. Salem grunted, struggling to keep his knees from buckling as he planted his feet...but suddenly felt his arms grow heavy and hands empty. His tunnel vision had cost him at a crucial moment, and the beastly Three had capitalized by ducking underneath Salem's arm and securing his Full Nelson while Salem's focus was blurry. Salem could only flail his arms in vain as he tossed his shoulders side to side, struggling to get free from the savage's grasp.

Salem's sinuses were put into a vice as Three bulged his biceps and flailed, shaking him like a tiger mauling the kill. Salem's breathing became labored, wheezing gasps for oxygen, precious breaths of life to keep the bold, brave rookie invigorated. However, it was to no avail. Slowly, Salem's arms started to hang, unable to keep them supported from the lack of air. His eyes grew drowsy, sleep starting to set in as the world became fuzzy and Salem's body grew numb.

Salem's limbs felt cold as Three's grip started to loosen. However, the circulation had only barely started returning to Salem's veins when the defending champion hoisted Salem up high, filling his lungs with air before dragging the breath right out of him with the force of his Full Nelson Slam. Needles stabbed into the back of Salem's scalp, stuck in droves from his head to his shoulders. The sudden pain caused Salem's spine to snap into a curve, a frightening howl echoing through the silenced arena as the rookie screamed in pain...a writhing, broken, bloody mess among the pile of thumbtacks.

Salem's every breath was but a pained whimper as Three darkened the lights, reducing the harsh glare that had been stinging Salem's eyes. However, it was but a small comfort offered by the champion, who had no qualms with dragging his challenger through the tacks that had been strewn across the canvas during this nightmare of a match. Every inch Salem moved was another dozen stabs into his bloody flesh, now painted with a symbol of Three's destruction.

The constant pain kept Salem awake, but by now it was almost more enticing to simply succumb to the darkness and pass out. Falling to the arena floor with a thud, Salem was left to slump against the apron as Three ignited his bed of nails in dazzling fashion, too busy basking in the radiant warmth from the flames to worry about his opponent's intentions.

Once again, Salem was being lifted up into the air, giving him a chance to breathe above the smoke that was starting to form along the arena floor as a result of the burning table. Salem trembled, a mixture of pain, fatigue, and cold causing him to shiver as Three held him up for the audience's satisfaction. Looking down, Salem saw the flickering blue flames that had engulfed the bed of nails, and slowly the light drew his vision into focus. The once blurry world was once again becoming clear, and Salem could feel the roar of the crowd boiling his blood once again.

As he looked down into the pit of Hell, Salem realized his current position and a look of fear washed over him. This was it - the scales of fate had been tested from side to side throughout this entire match, but the balance was about to be realized. Where would Salem fall, when the smoke settled? What would happen in the next few seconds, these precious moments that separated dreams and legends? Salem refused to accept this. If he were to descend into Hell, he'd take Three with him. Thus, as Three tried to drop Salem onto the fiery bed of nails, Salem would reach out and try to grasp hold of Three's neck...hoping to bring the champion face-first into the bed with a skull-shattering DDT.

For the next several moments, the audience watched in wild uproar as Three and Salem were both motionless against the canvas, Salem having taken a hard fall onto the back of his head and shoulderblades against the burning nails. Salem's world was dark for a few moments, but he felt himself slowly drawn back to the realm of the living as the fans started to cheer at the movement of his feet and hands.

Wiggling his fingertips, Salem struggled to make a fist, barely having the energy to hold his head off the canvas and look towards Three, still out from the hard impact. It was the first Salem knew that his counter had worked, albeit at the expense of his own body. Crawling over to the apron on his stomach, Salem's shoulders bled and burned with every motion of his arms as he grasped the curtain and gasped in pain...trying to get on his feet long enough to roll into the ring and retrieve the straitjacket.

The crowd started to get louder, the sound more intense as Salem drew closer and closer to the jacket, grasping its leather bindings for the first time all match. Feeling the material in his hands, Salem suddenly looked over for Three, still a bit dazed from the head shots he'd taken. It looked as though Salem were expecting Three to attack from anywhere as he nervously looked about, still bewildered by all that had transpired.

Crawling up to his feet, Salem could see Three's body still sprawled out next to the flaming bed. The sight made him almost fall to his knees in joy, the pain rising up to the surface of his face as he prayed his nightmare was almost at an end.

Stumbling to the ropes, Salem almost fell over the top rope as he tried to get back down to the arena floor, clutching the straitjacket as though it were a baby blanket. Cut up and fatigued, the jacket was already smeared with Salem's sweat and blood by the time he reached Three, Salem rolling the champion to his back to try and get the jacket's sleeves over the unconscious veteran's arms.