The Enemy.

[barabbas]

I see the Red Sea part in front of me
I see the desert clouds bleed above me
I'm with the prophets on the final destiny
We'll fight the heathens and the ghost enemy

This is the prophecy
This is the prophecy

I see the money beggars on the last temptation
We're marching now through the devastation
I'm with the prophets on a mission of salvation
Cities falling, nations falling nations

This is the prophecy
This is the prophecy...

The fans were silent, then gave a mixed reaction as the man known only as Barabbas stepped from the entry with a swirl of robes. He looked around from beneath his hoods, hands lifting before him palms upward as he seemed to be lost in prayer for a moment. Then he started forward, slowly heading for the ring before he climbed inside.

He walked towards the ropes, holding out his hand before a mic was offered to him. He reached up, pushing back his hood as those cool emotionless eyes swept across the crowd.

"I stand before all of you disgusted by what I have seen inside this hallowed ring! What I have seen is a circus, what I have seen is weak men who have no business here mocking this sacred ground!"

The fans didn't seem to care for that opinion, and Barabbas didn't seem to care.

"These men claim to be wrestlers? I see a man who is so in love with himself that he dares to bring out a belt once worn by my master and claims he made it great! I see a man who claims to be a fighter, yet taints his body with alcohol because he can not face himself in the mirror! He can not accept that he is nothing but a fool, who does not know what it means to fight!"

Barabbas shook his head, looking to the sky as if seeking guidance as the crowd booed him. He smoothed his robes, then bowed his head before.

"I saw another man, another weak Sports Entertainer mock me. I saw him spreading his lies about me, tainting all of you with his lies! Because he knows that I am pure, that I can not be dragged down to his level! That I am not what he is, a Sports Entertainer! I am a wrestler, a warrior of the Prohecy!"

He drew a deep breath, staring at his empty hand.

"These men seek to be Television Champion, they want to be Sports Entertainers! They are blind to what they represent, which is the hollow pursuit of false glory, of empty titles, of meaningless praise from you people! You people who claim to love wrestling, yet bleed this sport dry seeking more and more entertainment from it! You sicken me, you claim to love wrestling! And turn your back on it's Messiah!"

Barabbas ignored the boos, walking around the ropes before he looked up again.

"You cheer for a man who betrayed my master, a man who is proud to be second rate! A man who tainted the belt that Kyle Heaven carried to greatness! You will applaud a man who was handed a belt he did not earn, a man who was proud to be made champion by businessmen!"

Barabbas stared at the roof, his hands lifted as though in supplication before he raised the mic.

"You even cheer the base defilers of this sport! Two men who are everything Kyle Heaven upheld, and yet are everything he despised! The man who really drove Justin Voss to his grave, the Role Model Anthony Jordan! Like the serpent, like a snake he tempted the Messiah's son with the fruit of Sports Entertainment! He brought poison into Kyle Heaven's home, and his son was forced to pay for that sin!"

Barabbas shook his head, ignoring the rising ire of the crowd.

"And that sin is what made Justin Voss die! Anthony Jordan is the Devil! The Great Adversary, and all true warriors of the Prophecy must fight him and all he represents! And there is another, another Great Enemy! His very name mocks the Wrestling Incarnate, his very presence is an insult to the Purity of the Prophecy!"

Barabbas turned his empty gaze on the crowd as they started to chant that hated name. And he bowed his head, his hand lifting to knuckle his forehead as his lips moved silently.

Then he spoke aloud:

"The Beast will not stand in the presence of a Disciple of the Messiah! He revels only in mindless destruction, he lives in a Hell of endless, senseless violence! And he dares not stare into the eyes of Purity, he dares not face the Wrath of the Anointed! This man is worse the Anthony Jordan, for he believes in nothing, cares for nothing! Yet all of them, all of them will face judgment! Will face wrath! Because the hour of the Prophecy has come again!"

With this, Barabbas dropped the mic kneeling in his robes as his hands folded across his chest in the Prophecy's X as he stared at the uncaring roof of the arena as the crowd mocked him.