"A company, always on the run..."

The haunting vocals rang out through the stadium like a eulogy, accompanied by the strum of a lonely guitar. The air would grow thick with anticipation as the chilling hymn continued, causing a shiver to ripple through the air, startling the masses.

"A destiny, oh it’s the rising sun…

As though summoned by the verse, flames started building across the stage. The faint crackle belied the stinging heat that rose across the crowd, the growing tension stoking the fires until the stage was bathed as the sun.

"I was born, a shotgun in my hands..."

From the center of the inferno, a shadow rose up from underneath the stage. Slowly, it ascended – the silouhette of a man, standing unafraid amongst the fires that consumed him. A dark, foreboding shadow that not only survived the thermal storm around him, but embraced it…a soft chuckle heard as the stroke of guitar strings continued.

"Behind the gun I’ll make my final stand…"

The figure bobbed its head up and down to the building rhythm. His shoulders rocked, arms swung, knees bent to and fro. For a brief moment, it appeared as though a specter from Hell had been conjured onto the stage.

"...and thats why they call me...baaad company, I cant deny!"

As the hook burst forth, the figure leaped over the staggering flames that surrounded him, extinguishing as he soared past. The man rolled partially down the ramp as he landed before bouncing back to his feet in a burst of intensity.

His brown eyes were wide and wild, black hair hanging down to his eyebrows that shrouded his stare a bit. As the audience cheered, he beat a taped hand against his chest, letting out a fierce shout before running down to the ring, sliding under the bottom rope with ease. His arms had been illustrated into sleeves of ink, sprawled out in tribal patterns that extended from shoulder to wrist, though his forearms were each wrapped. On his back, one could see the illustration of an Egyptian ankh with angelic wings framing its sides, its colors faded a little from a few years of wear. His tanned skin gave him an almost foreign look and added a level of mystique to his persona.

"Baaad company, until the day I die!"

Glancing around the ring, the young man raised a hand, gesturing across his neck to kill the music as he brought the mic to his lips with his free hand.

"Hahaha..." he chuckled, momentarily breaking the intensity that he'd brought out to the ring just moments earlier to share a smile with the fans.

"I'm sorry. I just always wanted to do that, just now." he said, gesturing back to the stage as the fog of smoke brought on from his pyro started to lessen.

"You see, my name's Salem Croft and for years I've wanted to be part of the WWFG, ever since I graduated high school...so, that right there, that's the greatest thing I've ever done in my life. Well...second-greatest thing." he corrected, looking up at the giant screen to see himself telegraphed upon it for the first time.

For a brief moment, he amused himself by moving his hand back and forth, hopping from side to side, only to watch him doing it from the big screen.

"Man, that is cool." he confessed to the sound of light laughter among the crowd.

"But, as I was saying..." he continued, bowing his head into the mic as though he were about to say a prayer. "...coming out here is only the second greatest thing I've done in my life. The first greatest thing, I've yet to do...and that's win every championship this company has to offer." he said, his words solemn, but confident. For a moment, he looked up into the crowd, smirking a little as he surveyed the people.

"And I know some of you think that I'm just bullshitting, or that this is all just some attempt to get attention. You're thinking, 'This guy will be played out in a couple months', or 'He doesn't have what it takes to make it', and let me be the first to tell you that I've heard it all before. I heard it growing up, when I was doing stunts off my backyard trampoline. I heard it when I was in school, and I said I wanted to be a professional wrestler when I got older. I heard it on the independent scene, when I fought old legends trying to cling to glory and new blood trying to earn a living...but, there was one person who gave me a chance in this industry, one person who saw my raw passion, my pure talent, and took me under his wing, and that man's name is Cyrus Leone, one half of your main event for this evening."

Salem paused, allowing the fans to cheer for the mentioned veteran with a smile.

"But Cyrus didn't bring me here to talk, Cyrus brought me here because he knew I was hungry for more than just fame or money. "The Dream" brought me to the WWFG because he knew that I had a dream of my own, a dream to wear those prestigious belts only found in this great company and wear them with pride, as a champion who will fight anyone, anywhere, at any time and for any reason, because that's the kind of champion these belts deserve!" he said, gradually getting louder and more excited as he went on.

"Not like those belts I used to make when I was a kid, and all I had was construction paper and weight belts! The real thing, the genuine article, because I'm as real as real can get and I challenge anyone who questions my talent or denies my dream to come out right now, and we'll settle this in a match!" he shouted, glaring fiercely towards the ramp as though expecting someone to rush out to take the offer.

After a moment, however, Salem's demeanor relaxed...that already familiar chuckle heard once again as he tilted his head, an almost cocky grin on his face.

"But, first...let me say something to the current champions of this business. I'm coming for you. Don't get too comfortable being champions because Salem Croft is here and I'm going to take this company to new heights...right after I take those belts."