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If Rain Is What You Want by Slipknot would hit the PA system.

The low hum accompanied with the mechanical noises, slowly building up to the lyrics of Corey Taylor.

Omen would emerge from the back. He was alone tonight. This was not for Cartwright. This wasn't the bidding of the people he has been running around with for the last few months. Omen was here for himself. Returning to his roots of wanting to destroy. To unleash that side of him. To be The Freak.

The masked individual would make his way down the ramp as lights would flicker, the chorus playing along amping everybody up for this match. We didn't even know his opponent, but whoever it was, was in big trouble. There has been a long list of people who have gone toe to toe with this man and never returned the same, and something in the air tonight felt as if this would be the same result tonight.

Omen would finally make it ringside. Staring at the ring for a moment, until he finally approached the ring. Reaching under it. Revealing there was a garbage can full of goodies. He would pull it out, and push it near the steps before beginning to climb the steps. Entering the ring as he awaited to see who Cartwright would have picked out for him.

My cities will never sleep again

Within an instant, Super Stan entered the ring and was picked up and tossed back down for a huge chokeslam.

The crowd fell silent for a moment.

Omen had already said this backstage. This wasn't a match. He demanded a victim, and this supposed hero wanted to step up to the challenge. Cartwright would have handed Omen the perfect prey. He would stand tall over the opponent. The official running over to and hovering over Super Stan, checking to see if he was okay. But Omen would not let Super Stan give out a response before looking to grasp the throat of Super Stan once again. He would then begin to violently choke Super Stan. The official trying his best to push the large beast off the super hero, to no avail. It was like trying to move a wall. There was no give and no hope to help the man who has met face to face with true evil.

Super Stan would have clutched onto the arm of Omen, even throwing strikes to the elbow and the wrist, targeting joints to try and loosen the grip. But slowly, the struggle would turn into nothing. The hands would drop, and it seemed like the opponent had lost consciousness. Finally, Omen would lift Super Stan back to his feet. Delivering a huge chokeslam once again.

After the delivered move, medical professionals and security would rush into the ring. Trying to separate the large man from the super hero. Some members of the audience booing. Some completely silent still from the first moments of the attack.

Super Stan would have a small gash in his forehead, for when the light tube broke, small bits of the shards that were in tact still would have been pushed further into the skull of the super hero wannabe, breaching the skin and letting that crimson mask finally to be dawned.

Omen would begin to laugh violently, even reaching down to pick up his head once again to look at it closer. Omen would continue to look at the mask as he slowly brought the lifeless man back to his feet. The wounds continued to stack up. More bodyguards began to rush down, slamming into the back of Omen who would drop Stan for a moment.

He would turn around, grabbing the other security guards. Throwing them into the apron, into the stairs, the barricade, and even into the garbage can. Tossing it over and spilling some more of the hidden goods that Omen had. A kendo stick, a chair, a 2x4, and a bag. Omen would finish his rounds with the guards, and look over to the garbage can. The bag would stick out. He would reach out towards it, picking it up, and lightly tossing it in the palm of his giant hand.

Tacks. Of course it was tacks, everyone knew it. Omen would toss the bag of tacks into the ring. Walk along the apron, picking up the super hero who had a bit of time to garner some energy. He would begin to throw multiple strikes at Omen. The crimson masked hero would begin to give it his all as each shot looked to stack, until finally that was stopped. Omen would grab the skull of Super Stan and throw him backwards into another set of stairs. Making the stairs fly back and looking to knock out Super Stan.

This was truly disgusting. This was all unneeded. This was beyond what anyone expected what Omen thought of. This was truly not a match, but a massacre. Dozens of bodies lying on the wayside. One man who looked to stand up to this man was broken down and beaten beyond an inch of his life. This was the Freak. The man who had crucified Jarel. The beast who looked to end many careers inside the ring, just for the sport of doing so. A man hunter.

Omen fetched the remnants of what there was of Stan. Throwing him inside the ring as ruthlessly as possible. Even readjusting a few times because of the way he poorly tossed the body around. The Freak then would enter the ring once again. Grasping the thumb tacks bag, opening it and unleashing its contents foe everyone to see as they all spilled to the ground.

The fans would shield their eyes. The commentators would stand by, very unnerved and in shock just like everyone else. Finally. Omen would reach down, beginning to grasp the neck of Super Stan tightly while lifting him up.