193. Windham's Tryout

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Dusty chuckled, his trademark grin spreading across his face. "I like it. Let's stack that tournament with some real talent. Kofi, Nick, Taylor, and now Bobby. That's a hell of a lineup when it was even completed yet. And you know what? It's gonna make that title mean somethin' right out the gate."

Steve nodded in agreement. "Exactly. This tournament's gonna be a proving ground, and I think Bobby's ready to prove he belongs."

The two men continued to discuss the details, their excitement growing as they mapped out the tournament. They knew it was a risk, but they also knew that risks were what made wrestling great. And with talents like Bobby Roode in the mix, they were confident the tournament would be a success.

Three days later, the atmosphere in the FCW locker room was tense but electric. Windham was pacing back and forth, his nerves clearly getting the better of him.

He was dressed in his Bray Wyatt persona, the character he had been developing for months. The long beard he had been growing, the eerie smile, the cryptic mannerisms, it was all coming together, but Windham couldn't shake the feeling of self-doubt.

Sandro, Taylor, Ettore, Ashley, and Alexis were all there, doing their best to keep Windham calm and focused. Sandro, in particular, knew how much this tryout meant to his best friend. He had seen Windham's growth firsthand, and he believed in him more than anyone.

"Windham, man, you've got this," Sandro said, stepping in front of him and placing a hand on his shoulder. "You've been working your ass off for this. You've got the look, the character, the skills, everything. All you need to do is believe in yourself."

Windham looked up, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and determination. "I just… I don't know, Sandro. What if I mess up? What if they don't get it? What if—"

"Stop," Sandro interrupted, his voice firm but kind. "No 'what ifs.' You're ready. You've been ready. This character? It's gold. And you're the only one who can bring it to life. Just go out there and be Bray Wyatt. Be fearless. Be bold. And most importantly, be you."

Taylor chimed in, his usual laid back demeanor replaced with genuine encouragement. "Sandro's right, man. You've got something special here. I've seen you in the ring, and I've seen how this character connects with people. Trust me, they're gonna love it."

Ettore, who had been quiet, gave Windham a nod and a thumbs up. "You've got this, Windham. Just do your thing."

Ashley and Alexis, who had been quietly observing, stepped forward as well. "You're gonna kill it out there," Ashley said with a smile. "We believe in you."

Windham took a deep breath, his nerves slowly giving way to confidence. He looked around at his friends, their support meaning more to him than he could put into words. "Thanks, guys," he said, his voice steady. "I… I needed that."

Sandro smiled, giving Windham's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "That's what we're here for. Now go out there and show them what you're made of. We'll be right here, cheering you on."

As Windham made his way to his position, Sandro couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. This was his moment, and Sandro knew he wouldn't let it slip away.

The tryout match itself was a masterclass in storytelling and character work. Windham, fully embodying the Bray Wyatt persona, captivated the coaches, trainer, Dusty, and Steve from the moment he stepped to enter the ring.

Sandro stood at the edge of the ring, his arms crossed, his eyes locked on Windham, no, Bray Wyatt. The transformation was uncanny. The long beard, the eerie smile, the way he carried himself with an almost otherworldly confidence, it was all there.

Sandro couldn't help but feel a shiver run down his spine as he watched his best friend step into the persona he had been crafting for months. This wasn't just a character anymore; this was Bray Wyatt. And Sandro could see the seeds of something truly special beginning to take root.

In the ring, Bray Wyatt stood tall, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. The trainers, the coaches, Dusty, and Steve, were all watching intently, their expressions a mix of curiosity and intrigue.

Bray's eyes scanned the room, his gaze lingering on each person as if he were peering into their souls. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he raised his hand as if holding an invisible microphone. The room fell silent, the air thick with anticipation.

"They told me I was different," Bray began, his voice low and gravelly, dripping with a sinister charm. "They told me I didn't belong here. They said I was too strange, too… unconventional." He paused, letting the words hang in the air like a storm cloud ready to burst.

"But you see, I've always known something they didn't. I've always known that the world doesn't belong to the normal, the ordinary, the sheep. No, the world belongs to the ones who dare to be different. The ones who aren't afraid to embrace the darkness."

Sandro's eyes widened. This wasn't just a promo, this was a performance. Bray's words were hypnotic, his delivery flawless. He wasn't just reciting lines, he was living them.

Sandro could see the shadow of the Bray Wyatt he remembered from his past life, the cult leader, the manipulative mastermind who could turn a crowd with nothing but his words. It wasn't fully formed yet, but the foundation was there. The seed had been planted.

Bray continued, his voice rising and falling like the tide, drawing everyone in. "I've seen the future, and it's not what you think. It's not bright, it's not hopeful. It's dark, it's twisted, it's… beautiful. And I'm here to show you the way. To guide you through the chaos. To lead you to the promised land." He paused again, his lips curling into a wicked smile. "But beware, my friends. Not everyone will make it. Only the strong, the brave, the worthy will survive. The rest? Well… they'll be left behind."

The room was utterly silent, the weight of Bray's words pressing down on everyone. Sandro could see the impact it was having. Dusty and Steve were exchanging glances, their expressions a mix of awe and excitement. The trainers were nodding, clearly impressed. Even the other wrestlers, who were usually quick to joke or mock, were watching with rapt attention.

Bray took a step forward, his eyes locking on Dusty and Steve. "You see, I'm not just here to wrestle. I'm here to change the game. To show you what's possible when you stop playing by the rules and start making your own. So, what do you say? Are you ready to follow the buzzards? Or will you be left in the dark, wondering what could have been?"

With that, Bray dropped his imaginary microphone and spread his arms wide, his head tilted back as if basking in the glow of his own brilliance.

The room erupted in applause, the sound echoing off the walls. Sandro was the first to step forward, clapping loudly, a proud smile on his face. Taylor, Ettore, Ashley, and Alexis followed suit, their cheers filling the room.

Dusty and Steve approached the ring, their expressions unreadable. Bray stood tall, his chest heaving, his eyes gleaming with a mix of triumph and defiance. For a moment, no one spoke. Then Dusty broke the silence.

"Well, I'll be damned," Dusty said, his trademark grin spreading across his face. "Kid, you've got somethin' special here. I don't know what it is, but it's got me hooked."

Steve nodded, his arms crossed, a look of approval on his face. "You're right, Dusty. This… this is different. This is big. Windham, no, Bray, you've got a gift. And if you keep honing it, and keep pushing yourself, there's no limit to what you can do. Now let's see what you can do in the ring, I think everyone agrees that in promo your score was full marks."

The room was still buzzing from Bray Wyatt's mesmerizing promo as suddenly Dusty nodded toward Sandro.

"Sandro," Dusty called out, his voice carrying the authority of a man who had seen generations of talent rise and fall. "Get in there with him."

Sandro blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He hadn't expected this. He'd been there to support his best friend, not become part of the tryout. But there was no hesitation in his steps as he pulled off his hoodie, revealing a simple workout shirt and athletic gear.

His mind briefly flashed to Taylor's tryout, he had been the one in the ring for that too. Now, somehow, he was becoming an integral part of the Rotunda brothers' journey. First Taylor, now Windham.

As Sandro stepped into the ring, the atmosphere shifted. The friendly support among friends faded, replaced by an undercurrent of professional focus. The trainers, coaches, Steve, and Dusty circled the ring, their eyes sharp and evaluative.

Bray stood in his corner, his face already transformed into the eerie, enigmatic expression of the cult leader he was becoming. His head tilted slightly, that unsettling grin creeping across his face, like he knew something the rest of the world didn't. He rocked gently on his heels, hands dangling at his sides, his body language loose and unpredictable.

Dusty raised his hand and then brought it down sharply. "Let's go."

The match began.

Sandro moved first, circling Bray with light, measured steps, his body loose but ready. His face was calm, but inside, his mind was racing. How do I push him without overwhelming him? he thought. But the moment Bray lunged forward, all that overthinking vanished.

Bray's movement was sudden, almost animalistic, lunging, wild, yet controlled chaos. He came in low, aiming to tackle Sandro to the mat, but Sandro sidestepped with the precision of someone who'd been in hundreds of rings before.

The two reset, and this time Sandro initiated a traditional collar and elbow tie up, testing Bray's strength.

Bray surprised him. Windham had always been strong, but in this persona, he seemed even more powerful. He shoved Sandro back toward the ropes, but Sandro used the momentum to pivot, twisting Bray's arm into a standing wrist lock.

Bray didn't react with a typical reversal. Instead, he twisted his body unnaturally, almost snake-like, rolling through the pressure and slipping out with an eerie grace.

"Okay, that's the Bray Wyatt I knew from my past life," Sandro thought, barely having time to process before Bray was back on him.

Bray hit the ropes, bouncing off with a sudden burst of speed. He ducked under Sandro's attempted clothesline, hit the opposite ropes, and came back with a running crossbody that flattened Sandro to the mat.

Bray didn't go for a cover, though. Instead, he scrambled to his knees, his head tilted back, laughing, a low, guttural chuckle that sent chills through the silent room.

Sandro rolled to his feet, nodding slightly. He's really in character, he thought, impressed. But this wasn't the time to admire. It was time to push Bray further.

They locked up again, and this time Sandro took control, slipping behind with a waist lock and executing a quick snap German suplex.

Bray hit hard but rolled through, sitting up with that same unsettling smile, as if the pain only fueled him. Sandro advanced, but Bray suddenly lunged, catching him with a sharp, unexpected headbutt that staggered him.

Bray capitalized immediately, grabbing Sandro by the head and driving him into the corner turnbuckle with a splash that echoed in the small training facility. Sandro slumped slightly, but Bray didn't let up. He pulled Sandro into the middle of the ring and hit a short-arm clothesline, dropping him to the mat with authority.

The coaches murmured quietly, nodding in approval. Dusty's grin grew wider. Sandro lay on the mat for a second, catching his breath. He could feel it, the shift. Windham wasn't just playing Bray Wyatt anymore; he was Bray Wyatt. Every move, every expression, every unpredictable twitch was authentic.

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Name: Alessandro Zhang

Age: 19 (2009)

Birthplace: Orlando, Florida USA

Brand: FCW

Wrestling Style: Mixed Of All Style

Faction: Dragon Boom (Tag Team)

Championship History: 1x FCW Tag Team Champions & 1 FCW Florida Heavyweight Champion