Q: Are We Not Human? A: We Are Corpses! #Wattys2015

VI.

The seats were pushed farther back from the gates and the venue was smaller, but Undead Wrestling was alive again!

"Welcome back to the craziest brand of wrestling that has ever walked the face of the planet," Andrew McCarrick screamed into his microphone.

Alan sat where the commentators used to sit. He felt naked as this was the first time he had ever been present during a UWF match. The insurance companies demanded that he be visible at all times.

With a mental tug, Alan made Livewire and his pet corpse, Mort, walk down the aisle as if they were tag team partners. They were immediately met with boos, and Alan didn't know what to make of it. He made the two corpses travel to separate turnbuckles in the ring, and lowered his head in shame. The jeers just kept on coming.

"And, for the first time in the history of the sport," McCarrick shouted. "I present to you some of your favorite wrestlers from the ICW. Can we get a loud round of applause for Stronghold, Barricade, and Duuuuuusty Driiiiiifteeeer?"

The crowd erupted in feverish whistles and applause for the heroes of the ICW. McCarrick left the ring and the three wrestlers strutted out to their old theme songs. The crowd went bonkers.

This wasn't good.

Alan gave a mental push, and the corpses got into fighting position. He had conditioned his corpses to take more of a beating now, but all at once? McCarrick hadn't been clear on the stipulations of this match.

Once in the ring, the three wrestlers immediately converged on Mort. With his punchy green skin, rheumy eyes, and custom purple tights, he definitely looked the most seasoned of all the corpses. But he had also taken the most lumps since he'd been around the longest. Barricade beat down on the corpse's head with both fists, while Stronghold kicked Mort in the midsection. Meanwhile, Dusty Drifter scaled the turnbuckle. He waited for his opening.

During all of this, Livewire just stood dumbly in place since Alan was too preoccupied to control him.

"Stop," Alan held his head. "Too much!"

"You suck!" one of the fans shouted behind him.

"Corpses blow!" another one shouted. The fan was so close, Alan felt the spit on his neck.

Suddenly, Alan felt a fierce chill as a soda slammed his backside.

"What the hell?" Alan stood and turned around. But in that instant, Barricade kicked Mort in the back of the knee, and Alan took a knee himself.

"Bitch!" One of the fans shouted above Alan.

Somebody started the ICW chant, and others followed.

"ICW! ICW! ICW!" the whole stadium cheered.

They don't want corpses anymore, Alan lamented. We're done for.

Barricade and Stronghold grabbed Mort's arms and Alan felt tearing in his armpits.

Dusty Drifter cupped his mouth and shouted, "Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!"

"Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!" The audience repeated.

They're going to tear him in half. Alan panicked. With a heavy mental push, he sent Livewire off the ropes and made him do a dropkick to the back of Barricade, who, with Mort's arm still in his clutches, ripped the arm right off at the shoulder blade and sent them all off balance.

The crowd roared with delight and Alan screamed in pain at Mort's dismemberment. He grabbed his own arm as if it were himself ripped apart.

Barricade regained his balance and turned. He then slammed his fists so hard against Livewire's ears that the corpse's head exploded.

Alan saw a flash of white and fell out of his seat. In the distance, he heard the dull roar of the crowd as they hopped out of their seats at the carnage.

"ICW! ICW! ICW! ICW!"

Alan summoned all the energy he had left to stand up. But as Mort lay on his side, Dusty Drifter pointed down at him and then raised his hand up, indicating that the two wrestlers should raise the corpse. Barricade and Stronghold did just that as they lifted Mort up in the air and held him between them. Dusty cupped his mouth and hollered, "Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!"

The audience reciprocated: "Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!"

They're going to kill him. Dad, I wish you were here. Please, be here.

But...his father wasn't coming. If Alan didn't want to see his pet corpse torn in half, then there was only one person who could make sure that didn't happen—himself.

Alan closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, his whole body radiated green. He felt the surge of power that he hadn't felt in a long, long time. And with that power, he sent his strongest mental thrust yet straight to the back room.

Just then, the energy of the crowd shifted dramatically. There was an enormous gasp followed by "Oh, shit!" everywhere.

Dangerzone and Sepulcher sprinted down to the ring!

The two of corpses slid underneath the ropes together. Barricade and Stronghold dropped Mort and tried to converge on them.

Sensing what the wrestlers were going to do next, Alan let them charge the corpses. With raised fists, they came at the cadavers, but Alan felt their motion before they could strike. It was like a wave of energy that he could cerebrally counteract. With a sharp, almost balletic mental thrust, he had the two corpses simultaneously drop kick Barricade and Stronghold before they could touch them. The corpses knocked the wrestlers down so hard that both men were unconscious as soon as they hit the mat.

Dusty Drifter looked down from the top rope and shook his head. He then looked at the commentator's table.

Alan offered him a wicked, green smile.

Mort sat up like a dead man revived. The other two corpses darted to the turnbuckle.

They acted as a team. Dangerzone hit the deck, and Sepulcher got on top of him.

"No! No! No! No! No!" Dusty said as Mort ran up the decayed steps and leapt into the air. With a spinning motion, he wrapped his legs around Dusty's neck, and, in a feat of pure athleticism, spun him right off the turnbuckle.

Everybody leapt out of their seats as Dusty spun twice mid-air and finally landed HARD on the commentators' table, breaking it right in two.

The crowd went BANANAS! "UWF! UWF! UWF! UWF!" they shouted.

Alan shook himself out of his spirit state, and the green glow left his body. He rushed up to the mat, and this time, didn't even need to be helped up. When he got to the center, he grabbed Mort's one arm and thrust it in the air.

The crowd started a new chant now. It was one Alan had never heard before.

They shouted, "Alan! Alan! Alan! Alan!"

The teenage necromancer waved to the crowd. He could get used to this.

                                                                                        The End