The Great Galactic Ghoul
The crowd roared and stomped, shaking the walls of the stadium with their excitement. Even the opening matches were something special. Every superstar, every manager, the referees – everyone seemed inspired to perform.
The cheering intensified as the TV and National Championships were decided before, finally, the World Championship bout to end the evening. In an epic battle, the Viking warrior known as Drakowulf claimed the title, overcoming his opponent with the Torture Rack known as the Blood Eagle. Stalking around the ring, title belt in hand, he grabbed the microphone, climbed the ropes, and issued a challenge to all.
“Who dares oppose me now? Who wants to feel the pain of the Blood Eagle and be sacrificed to the old gods? Who is brave enough to contest for the World Championship?”
The cheers of Drakowulf’s fans competed with the boos scattered through the crowd. He threw down the mic, dropping to the mat, and started to exit the ring. Then the lights went out, leaving the stadium in near total darkness.
The crowd fell silent. The darkness lingered for several seconds, and the murmurs started to grow. Flickering green light started to highlight the ring, the ramp, and the superstars’ entrance. Matching the pulsating light, a heartbeat echoed through the venue, its odd cadence like no human heartbeat. The lights intensified, revealing Drakowulf, still near the ring ropes, looking up the ramp, around at the crowd, obviously confused.
Then, a low, inhuman voice, rising as it spoke, captivated every soul in the stadium.
“From the coldest reaches of space, born of the dust of Planet X, he comes. The child of interstellar magic and cosmic rays, he was created for his knowledge but too powerful for his masters to contain, he has traveled light years to challenge Earth’s greatest warriors to hand-to-hand combat!”
Smoke gathered at the top of the ramp. Drakowulf stood tall, belt held at his side, intent on this new challenger. The smoke grew thicker and a silhouette appeared, humanoid but not completely human shaped.
With a flash of emerald green light and a thunderous roar, the smoke almost instantly cleared and the challenger stepped forward. His cape fanned out behind him, black as the night sky and glittering with what looked like stars embedded in the fabric, he sneered wordlessly down at the World Champion.
The voice thundered, rising above the cheers and gasps, “Your future champion and overlord, the Great Galactic Ghoul!”
Pointing at Drakowulf, lips opening in a snarl to show sharpened teeth, the Ghoul stalked down the ramp to meet his prey.
