Live for the Kill played over the PA system as a young , tall, brown haired, russian walked out from backstage wearing a red combat sambo uniform. He didn't looked intimidating at first sight however he was well built. The crowd looked at this man who the hell was he?. The man walked down the aisle keeping an eye on his opponent.
The pack of wolves
Are closing in
Now, hear the howling beasts
They move fast
Through winter woods
And soon it's time to feast
A vicious hunt
On through the night
The prey is short of breath
They feel the sting
Of burning eyes
That's fixed upon their necks
And His opponent From Saint Petersburg, Russia. weighing at 235 pounds The Red Wolf Aleksandr Volk Zhabin!A predator's heart knows no remorse
It lives for the hunt
A predator's heart knows no remorse
It lives for the hunt
A natural forceIt was a plain entrance for a former Olympic gold medal Boxer and world sambo Champion the first Russian perhaps to step foot in DHW and with such recognition.
A natural force
It knows no remorse
And lives for the killVolk made his way into the ring walking the steel steps and ducking thru the middle ropes. He walked across the ring opposite to Omen as he asked for a mic. As soon as he was handed a microphone he looked around surveying the arena he was in before the music died. Just as he was about to talk, His words were cut for a moment as the crowd reacted in patriotic chant
"USA! USA! USA!" "You can't chant all you want, but that's not gonna change the fact that i'm gonna break this man." The crowd reacted in boos after hearing him talk in a thick russian accent. He only smirked at the reaction, he spoke once again and untied his belt showing scars from what it seemed to be from knife fights or a wild animal attack.
"I'm not gonna trash talk talk about your country, it sure is the land of opportunity. An opportunity of a lifetime come here and conquer the Divisions one by one. That is the only purpose i've been given. You'll see once i'm done with this Omen."The crowd once again booed him saying big words to someone perhaps 3 or 5 inches taller than him and 30 pounds heavier. The russian in the corwd knew him damn well and for him to be talking like that it sure was a big statement.
"Omen is nothing but a charade, a mask, once you get rid of the illusion you have nothing but an empty shell. Unlike me i'm as real as it gets. This foggy dark figure gimmick it's only effective if you're either a child or a coward." Volk said pointing at the mask and attire.
"You want to know true fear? You're looking at it. Now, let's cut the match shall we?." He said dropping the mic having said in a cynical manner volk took off the sambo jacket as the referee signaled for the match to start.
Ding! Ding! Ding!