Draven Promo.

The cameras cut to a secluded area backstage. The lights flicker, dying slowly, but never helped. The walls are cracked and weeping, but nothing is heard. This place is a death trap. Yellow tape, broken, it's too late. Cameras shift to a figure sitting down on a chair, the only thing that wont give in, as the pillars holding the building up seem to be crushed under the weight, where is he? The dust in the air can be seen and the cobwebs of spider are left behind, no life. Cameras quickly come closer to the figure, who turns out to be... Draven.

"This place is a death trap, my playground."

Draven slowly gets up from his seat and looks into the camera, talking to it as if it were a person. He dusts off his pants and smiles, but only for a quick second. His eyes pierce through the camera, if it had a soul it would come right out.

"You see, when you go mad with power, it's better then going mad without power. I cannot become something when I am nothing. I never plan to set my self apart from others and work my way to the top, no. I take what I want, and I may not want to set my self apart, but this federation will know my name, and the people who boo and cheer me will chant my name, because it brings forth screams of enjoyment, and I bring forth screams of my opponents. I never really made any senses when I talked, I always thought of my self talking as poetry in motion, a living breathing poet who gives you what you need to hear, gives you what you have to know, and gives you the eerie feeling of sickness."

Draven seems to drift along the walls, touching them softly with his hand, they seem to break easily as his hand brushes up against them, the dust and paint, the crumble of old wall just fall, fall down into the ground where nothing but the dust and emptiness meet.

"I am a human cancer that kills off people, I am malignant thoughts in your head, the ones you repress and throw away, but I always come back. You see, I am not looking for a certain title, or a championship. I came here to inflict punishment on those who stand in my way and those who dare face me. You see, I give credit to those who face me, because there's a difference between being in my way and facing me, because when you face me, you face death, and you know it's coming, and when you get in my way, you never see it COMING."

Draven knocks down the camera man with a swift punch, you hear a thud as the man crashed down into the dust, the camera flies out and lands, Bam! the crushing sound of metal hitting the concrete, and the static and transition seem to daze out. Draven grabs onto the camera and speaks into it as he raised it from the death that is the ground.

"I'm a man of my word."