HCW Wrestling Newsletter 2025 #1141 – 9/28 - HCW Voltage
The camera pans across the Raleigh Civic Center, where fans are on their feet waving signs like “Down With Vlad,” “Justice For HCW,” and “In Vlad We Don’t Trust!”. Red, white, and blue pyro shoots skyward before
the broadcast cuts to ringside.
Sam Duffy:
“Hello wrestling fans and welcome back to another installment of the HCW Wrestling Newsletter. We are live here in Raleigh, North Carolina, and tonight Voltage is loaded with action — including a huge main event where Joe ‘Jack Hammer’ Sanders and Noah ‘High Flyer’ Murphy team up against Count Vlad’s Fangs of Despair!”
Rick Granger:
“And let’s be clear, Sam — those fangs don’t lose. Dominion rules Voltage, Dominion rules HCW, and after tonight Raleigh’s gonna learn what it means to kneel before Vlad.”
Sam Duffy:
“We’ll see about that. But first, the women’s division gets us started!”
Match #1 – Feral (w/ The Yeti) vs. Phoenix Blaze
Local Referee: Denise Parabon
Phoenix hits the ring first, greeted by a warm ovation. Her fiery orange and gold gear gleams under the lights as she rallies the crowd, pointing skyward.
The lights dim. A guttural howl echoes through the arena as Feral storms to the ring, hair wild, eyes locked on her prey. Behind her looms the massive Yeti, arms crossed, every step shaking the ramp. The Raleigh crowd boos relentlessly.
The bell rings.
Phoenix opens fast, ducking Feral’s wild swings and connecting with a sharp dropkick followed by a springboard arm drag. She strings it together with a running knee strike that leaves Feral staggering.
Sam Duffy:
“Blaze is using her speed perfectly! She can’t let Feral drag this to the mat!”
Rick Granger:
“Yeah, but one shot from Feral and Phoenix’ll look like kindling in a bonfire.”
Phoenix launches a tope suicida to the outside, but as she pops up, Yeti steps close, glaring down at her. The ref warns him back, but the distraction allows Feral to grab Phoenix by the hair and ram her into the barricade. She bites Phoenix’s forehead before rolling her inside.
Sam Duffy:
“Come on ref, she’s biting her!”
Rick Granger:
“You call it biting, I call it adding protein to her diet.”
Feral stomps her down, plants her with a snap suplex, then crushes her in the corner with a running forearm. She screams in Phoenix’s face before choking her against the bottom rope while Yeti pounds the apron.
Phoenix fights back with a sudden superkick and a spinning heel kick. She climbs the ropes, nails a crossbody, and the crowd comes alive. She signals for the Blazing Comet.
But when she springboards, Yeti slams a massive fist onto the apron, rattling her footing. Feral rakes the eyes, crashes into Phoenix with the Savage Pounce, and then clamps on the Razor’s Claw submission. Phoenix taps out in agony.
Even after the bell, Feral refuses to release the hold. Only when Yeti steps up and orders her off does she let go, howling to the ceiling as he raises her arm. Phoenix lies on the mat, clutching her shoulder.
Sam Duffy:
“That was a mugging! Yeti had no business being out here!”
Rick Granger:
“What are you talking about? Yeti’s her support system, Sam. The Dominion believes in teamwork.”
Feral and Yeti stand tall as the Raleigh fans shower them with boos. They head to the back; happy with the chaos they have sewn.
Vignette – “The Reckoning Intensifies” (Owen Zestwell Training Spot #3)
The screen cuts from Feral’s post-match celebration to a dark, pounding drumbeat.
Quick shots flash in rapid succession:
- Owen Zestwell flipping a massive tractor tire, sweat flying in the air.
- Owen sprinting up a steep hill, every stride a struggle, blood trickling from a cut above his brow.
- A cramped gym where he trades brutal, bare-knuckle strikes with a sparring partner, both men’s fists wrapped in bloodied tape.
- Coach Brick Mallory barking orders, veins popping in his neck: “Again! Harder! Don’t stop until you break him!”
The montage grows more frenzied — Owen lifting sandbags, slamming into tackling dummies, unleashing primal roars as the intensity builds.
The music cuts to silence. A close-up shot shows Owen, fists taped, his eyes burning a hole through the camera.
Owen Zestwell (calm, low voice): The reckoning is mine.
Text flashes across the screen:
“LIVE TONIGHT — OWEN ZESTWELL ON THE MORTON REPORT”
The crowd inside Raleigh pops as the vignette fades back to ringside.
The Raleigh crowd came alive as Dominic Marconi made his way to the ring, shaking hands with fans and drawing a thunderous “Dom-i-nic! Dom-i-nic!” chant. The Italian Thoroughbred flexed and raised his fist proudly, his presence radiating the strength and pride of a true fan favorite.
But the ovation soured instantly when the lights flickered and a distorted laugh echoed through the arena. The Wicked Prophet appeared on the stage dragging the limp body of Ovaltine Jackson behind him. Gasps turned to boos as Prophet dumped Ovaltine at the top of the ramp and snarled into the camera, hissing, “Another false idol silenced! Only prophecy remains!” He stormed down to ringside, glaring at Dominic, who motioned for him to step inside. The referee hesitated, but Dominic demanded the bell, refusing to back down from the challenge.
Sam Duffy:
“This wasn’t the match we were promised! Ovaltine Jackson’s been taken out!”
Rick Granger:
“And replaced with something far better. The Prophet is here to spread his gospel of ruin, and Dominic is about to become his congregation.”
Match #2 – Dominic Marconi vs Ovaltine Jackson the Wicked Prophet
The moment the bell rang, Marconi charged, unloading with fists that drove Prophet into the corner. He smashed him with clubbing forearms before knocking him flat with a running clothesline. Prophet tumbled to the outside, clutching his jaw, but Dominic stayed on him, hauling him up and tossing him over the barricade before dragging him back. Prophet shifted momentum with a whip into the steel post, then rammed him shoulder-first into the steps. The Italian Thoroughbred grimaced in pain as Prophet rolled back under the ropes, smirking while the referee counted.
Sam Duffy:
“This man is dangerous, Rick. He doesn’t just want to win — he wants to make a statement.”
Rick Granger:
“And so far, he’s making it loud and clear!”
Inside the ring, Prophet stomped Marconi down, dropping a vicious knee across his throat before covering for two. He hooked in a chinlock, muttering garbled scripture while wrenching Dominic’s neck, but the crowd rallied with chants of “Mar-co-ni!” Dominic fought up to his feet, landing elbows until he broke free and hurled Prophet with a belly-to-belly suplex. The fans erupted as Marconi followed with a spinebuster, then raised his hand high, signaling for the Italian Backbreaker Slam.
Sam Duffy:
“Dominic Marconi is rolling! The Italian Thoroughbred is about to shut the Prophet up!”
Rick Granger:
“Don’t count your rosaries just yet, Sam. This man doesn’t go down that easy.”
Just as Dominic hoisted Prophet up, the atmosphere shifted. The Raleigh fans suddenly erupted with boos as Thaddeus Zestwell appeared at ringside, leather strap draped casually over his shoulder. He circled the apron slowly, locking eyes with Dominic, then smacked the strap against the apron to draw his attention. Dominic dropped Prophet to shout at his rival, pointing and yelling for him to stay out of it.
The distraction was all Prophet needed. With a wicked grin, he raked Dominic’s eyes and drove him head-first into the mat with the Soul Breaker DDT. Prophet sprawled across his chest, hooking the leg. The referee’s hand hit three, and the crowd groaned in unison.
The Wicked Prophet knelt beside Dominic’s limp body, whispering something inaudible into his ear before rolling out of the ring and lifting his arms to a storm of boos. Thaddeus smirked on the outside, tapping the strap against his palm, his eyes never leaving the man in the ring.
Sam Duffy:
“Dominic Marconi had this match won until Thaddeus Zestwell stuck his nose in it! That’s twice tonight he’s poisoned the well!”
Rick Granger:
“Wrong, Sam. Thaddeus didn’t cost Dominic anything. He reminded him of what’s coming. The Prophet did the rest. That’s prophecy fulfilled!”
Dominic sat up slowly, slamming his fists against the mat in fury while the crowd chanted his name. He glared toward the aisle, but Thaddeus was already retreating, strap in hand, leaving behind nothing but unfinished business.
Segment – The Morton Report
The camera cuts to a studio set backstage where Larry Morton sits behind his desk, microphone in hand. The backdrop reads The Morton Report in bold letters.
Larry Morton:
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to The Morton Report. My guest at this time is a man who has been the subject of a lot of attention in recent weeks, Owen Zestwell. Owen, come on in.”
The crowd inside the arena cheers as Owen Zestwell steps onto the set, towel draped around his neck, fists still taped from training. He sits across from Morton, posture firm.
Larry Morton:
“Owen, earlier tonight your brother Thaddeus interfered once again, this time costing Dominic Marconi his match. Fans are asking — how much longer are you willing to let this go before you step in?”
Owen Zestwell:
“Larry, I’m not letting it go. Thaddeus feeds on chaos, but I don’t train for chaos — I train for discipline. He’s looking for tricks and shortcuts. I’m looking to end him. And when the time comes, I’ll break him.”
Larry Morton:
“You’ve used that word before — ‘break.’ Some might say that sounds less like discipline and more like revenge. Is there a danger here that you’re letting your brother dictate the terms?”
Owen Zestwell:
“The only terms I care about are the ones where Thaddeus doesn’t get back up. He can swing that strap all he wants. He can hide in the shadows. But when it’s brother against brother, there will be nowhere to run. The reckoning is mine.”
The Raleigh crowd roars through the feed as Owen stands, tossing his towel aside and walking off. Morton looks back toward the camera, composed.
Larry Morton:
“Strong words tonight from Owen Zestwell. One thing is clear — this family conflict is far from finished.”
The crowd buzzed as Chris “Thunderstrike” Thompson and Mike “the Rebel” Matthews made their way down the aisle, slapping hands and pumping up the fans. The Dynamic Duo hit the ring in unison, climbing opposite turnbuckles and saluting Raleigh before dropping down, ready for action.
The arena lights dimmed as ominous Germanic march music rumbled over the PA. Baron von Blood and Oswald Zimmerman — the 5th Column — emerged in dark coats, sneering at the crowd while drawing loud boos. They entered the ring with methodical precision, glaring across at the Duo.
Match #3 – The 5th Column vs the Dynamic Duo
Sam Duffy:
“The Dynamic Duo showing why they’re one of the most fluid teams in HCW. Great chemistry, great execution!”
Rick Granger:
“Yeah, but chemistry doesn’t mean much when you’re staring across at a wrecking crew like the 5th Column.”
Zimmerman scrambled for a tag, and Baron von Blood stormed in, hammering Thunderstrike with a European uppercut that rattled his jaw. Baron followed with a backbreaker and stomped on him methodically, cutting the ring in half. The 5th Column worked in tandem, grinding down Thunderstrike with double-team stomps, quick tags, and a gutwrench suplex that nearly put him away.
Sam Duffy:
“Classic tag wrestling from the 5th Column — isolate your man, cut off the ring, and punish him.”
Rick Granger:
“And it’s beautiful, isn’t it? Efficiency, brutality, and zero wasted motion. That’s how you dominate.”
Thunderstrike finally ducked a clothesline and dove for the hot tag. Rebel exploded in with lariats, a flying forearm, and a swinging neckbreaker on Zimmerman. The crowd came alive as Rebel pointed to Thunderstrike, who climbed the ropes. The Duo hit their signature combination — Rebel’s running powerslam into Thunderstrike’s top-rope splash — planting Zimmerman in the middle of the ring. Thunderstrike hooked the leg for the three-count as Raleigh erupted.
Winners: The Dynamic Duo
The Duo celebrated with the fans, slapping hands at ringside while Baron von Blood dragged Zimmerman out, the 5th Column glaring daggers back into the ring.
Sam Duffy:
“The Dynamic Duo picks up a huge win tonight, and they did it against one of the most dangerous teams in HCW!”
Rick Granger:
“Dangerous, yes. But even the best teams have bad nights, Sam. Don’t think for a second the 5th Column won’t reload and come back for blood.”
The camera lingered on the victors before cutting to backstage for an interview.
Backstage, Candace Hart stood with microphone in hand, framed by the HCW logo backdrop. Beside her loomed the powerhouse Biceps Bannerman, his chest glistening, veins popping as he flexed casually while the crowd cheered from inside the arena.
“Biceps Bannerman, in just a few moments you’ll be stepping into the ring against Matches Malone. Tonight, you’re in Raleigh, North Carolina, and the fans are firmly behind you. How are you approaching this match?”
Biceps Bannerman:
“Candace, when I walk down that aisle, it’s not just about flexing or showing off the guns — it’s about proving that power, discipline, and respect still matter in this sport. Malone wants to cut corners? He wants to play dirty? That’s fine. Tonight, I’m going to show him what happens when you step into the ring with raw strength and a will that won’t break.”
Candace Hart:
“Strong words — but Bannerman, with the Dark Dominion running roughshod, some might say power alone won’t be enough. Do you feel pressure to make a statement tonight?”
Biceps Bannerman:
“Candace, I am the statement. Every slam, every suplex, every Titan Slam I hit — it’s a message to Malone, to the Dominion, to anybody else who thinks HCW belongs to them. This is still our house, and tonight Raleigh’s gonna see exactly why.”
The crowd popped through the feed as Bannerman flexed both arms, the veins bulging as he roared for the camera.
Candace Hart:
“Biceps Bannerman, set for action coming up next!”
The camera cut back to ringside, where the announcers prepped the audience for the upcoming match.
The Raleigh crowd cheered as Biceps Bannerman’s music hit. The powerhouse stormed to the ring, veins popping in his massive arms, roaring as he flexed for the fans. Bannerman paced with intensity, ready for action.
“Trust Fund Frenzy” blared through the speakers as Matches Malone appeared on the stage — but before he could even reach the ramp, The Rich Athlete blindsided him from behind, smashing him face-first into the steel. The crowd booed ferociously as Ruth Heartless strutted out, clapping with delight. Athlete laid heavy stomps into Malone before whipping him against the guardrail, then straightened his jacket and demanded a microphone.
The Rich Athlete:
“Malone? Malone doesn’t belong in my spotlight! He doesn’t belong in my ring! You people didn’t spend your hard-earned money to watch some no-name get lucky — no, no, no. You came here tonight for the show, the shine, the suit, the style! You came here to see the Rich Athlete strut down this aisle, style and profile like only I can!”
The crowd booed louder, but Athlete strutted, arms spread wide as Ruth Heartless shouted, “Tell ’em, Champ!”
The Rich Athlete:
“And Bannerman, big man, muscle man, Mr. Titan Slam himself — tonight’s your lucky night, because you get the privilege, the honor, the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to stand across from the best to ever lace a pair of boots! And when it’s over, when you’re laying flat on that canvas looking up at the lights, you remember one thing — you can’t stop class, you can’t stop cash, and you sure as hell can’t stop the Rich Athlete!”
The fans erupted in boos as Athlete tossed the mic, strutted to the ring, and slipped inside with Ruth Heartless applauding from ringside. Bannerman flexed and pointed at him, shouting over the noise, as the referee conferred with both men. Seconds later, the bell rang — it was official: Biceps Bannerman vs. The Rich Athlete (w/ Ruth Heartless).
Match #4 – Matches Malone The Rich Athlete w/ Ruth Heartless vs Biceps Bannerman
Sam Duffy:
“The Rich Athlete is already wasting time — he doesn’t want to square up with Bannerman!”
Rick Granger:
“No, Sam — he’s being smart! You don’t rush into a storm headfirst. You let it blow itself out.”
Athlete circled the ring slowly, stalling, then finally climbed back in. Bannerman charged, and Athlete dropped to his knees, begging off, arms wide. Bannerman hauled him up anyway, hammering him with rights and launching him with a back body drop. The crowd roared as Bannerman pressed Athlete high overhead, marching him around the ring before dropping him flat.
Athlete rolled outside again, clutching his ribs. Ruth Heartless hurried to his side, fanning him with her hands and barking at the referee to “do your job!” Bannerman leaned over the ropes to grab him, but Athlete yanked his arm across the top rope. He slipped back inside, chopping Bannerman’s chest with rapid-fire strikes, then strutted proudly (WOOOOOOOOOOO).
Sam Duffy:
“That’s nothing but cowardice — taking shortcuts at every turn!”
Rick Granger:
“Shortcuts? That’s called ring IQ, Sam. He’s showing Bannerman who’s really in control here.”
Athlete slowed the pace, wrenching Bannerman into a headlock, shouting “I’m the best!” to the jeering crowd as he ground him down. Bannerman powered out with a back suplex, followed with a pair of clotheslines, then crushed Athlete with a corner splash. He hoisted him up and hit a running powerslam for a near-fall.
Bannerman signaled for the Titan Slam, and the fans erupted. But as he pulled Athlete onto his shoulders, Ruth Heartless jumped onto the apron, shrieking at the referee. The distraction let Athlete rake Bannerman’s eyes and wriggle free. He staggered, then with a smirk, dropped to his knees again, begging off. Bannerman advanced, only for Athlete to sneak in a vicious low blow that dropped him cold.
Sam Duffy:
“Oh come on! That was a blatant low blow!”
Rick Granger:
“I didn’t see anything! Maybe Bannerman just tripped over his own boots!”
Athlete scrambled into a quick roll-up, grabbing a handful of tights for extra leverage and put his feet on the bottom rope. The referee dropped to count — one, two, three!
Winner: The Rich Athlete (w/ Ruth Heartless)
The arena filled with boos as Athlete popped up, strutting and pointing to himself. Ruth Heartless raised his hand and screamed at the fans to “show respect to greatness!” Bannerman clutched his groin and argued with the referee, but the decision stood.
Sam Duffy:
“That’s highway robbery! The Rich Athlete stole this win from Biceps Bannerman in the worst way possible!”
Rick Granger:
“Stole? No, Sam. That’s what champions do. He just showed Bannerman, once again, why cash beats muscle every single time.”
Bannerman leaned on the ropes, furious, glaring up the aisle as Athlete strutted away with Ruth Heartless, shouting, “I’m the best! You can’t beat class!” Raleigh showered them with boos as the feud reignited in full force.
After the match, the Rich Athlete strutted up the aisle, Ruth Heartless holding his hand high as he shouted back at the booing fans. Biceps Bannerman shook his head furiously, slamming the mat. Then, with a roar, he rolled out of the ring and stormed after them. The crowd erupted as Bannerman sprinted up the ramp, chasing Athlete and Ruth through the curtain while security scrambled to follow. The cameras cut away on the chaos, leaving the outcome unresolved.
Backstage, Candace Hart stood in front of the HCW logo, microphone in hand. Beside her loomed the Fangs of Despair — Dr. Red Fang and Nightfang — with Count Vlad centered between them in his immaculate black suit and crimson tie. The crowd in Raleigh booed loudly as Vlad smirked into the camera.
Candace Hart:
“Count Vlad, tonight in our main event, the Fangs of Despair step into the ring against Joe ‘Jack Hammer’ Sanders and Noah ‘High Flyer’ Murphy. The Raleigh fans are ready to see these two men finally get some action against the Dominion. What do you have to say to them?”
Count Vlad:
“What do I have to say? These people are delusional, Candace. Sanders and Murphy? They are little boys playing in a kingdom of monsters. The Fangs of Despair are not simply wrestlers — they are predators. They feed, they conquer, they win. And tonight, Raleigh will learn what the rest of HCW already knows: resistance to the Dark Dominion is futile.”
Dr. Red Fang:
“VAMPIRE LUNGES FOR EVERYBODY!”
Nightfang:
“Sanders… Murphy… we’ll drain your hopes dry, and we’ll leave nothing but shadows where you used to stand.”
Count Vlad:
“And when the bell rings tonight, the only names that matter are Red Fang and Nightfang. The Dominion writes the ending, Candace, and it will be written in blood.”
The trio sneered into the camera as the Raleigh crowd booed thunderously, and Candace signed off with a nervous glance their way.
The crowd came alive as Joe “Jack Hammer” Sanders and Noah “High Flyer” Murphy made their entrance, sprinting to the ring and slapping hands with the fans. Sanders pounded his chest and roared while Noah climbed the ropes, throwing his arms wide as Raleigh chanted their names.
The arena darkened. Red spotlights swept over the crowd as eerie music echoed. “VAMPIRE LUNGES FOR EVERYBODY” blares from the speakers. Count Vlad emerged with Dr. Red Fang and Nightfang flanking him. Vlad smirked as the fans showered them with boos, pointing toward the ring as his monsters stalked forward. The Fangs slid inside, crouching low like predators as Vlad remained ringside.
Match #5: The Main Event for the Heritage Tag Team Titles: The Fangs of Despair w/Count Vlad vs Joe Sanders and Noah Murphy.
VS
The bell rang and Noah started against Nightfang. The High Flyer used his speed, hitting a pair of arm drags and a dropkick that sent Nightfang rolling to the corner. Noah pointed skyward and pumped the crowd before tagging Sanders, who stormed in with a big boot that flattened Nightfang.
Sam Duffy:
“Sanders and Murphy are red-hot out of the gate — this is the fire the Dominion can’t put out!”
Rick Granger:
“Give it time, Sam. Fire always burns out. Shadows always last.”
Sanders pressed the advantage with a suplex before tagging Noah back in. They hit a double-team back body drop on Nightfang, earning a near fall. Red Fang stormed in illegally, but Noah dropkicked him through the ropes to the floor. Raleigh roared as the faces stood tall.
Vlad climbed onto the apron, barking at the referee. The distraction allowed Nightfang to chop block Sanders’ leg from behind. Red Fang rolled back in, hammering the Jack Hammer with stomps as Nightfang tagged out. The Fangs went to work, cutting the ring in half and punishing Sanders with vicious double-teams — stomps in the corner, quick tags, and a double suplex that rattled the ring.
Sam Duffy:
“Classic Dominion tactics — isolate your man, keep him far from his partner.”
Rick Granger:
“And it’s brilliant, Sam! This is why the Fangs are Vlad’s chosen predators!”
Sanders finally fought his way free, blasting Red Fang with a desperation clothesline. He crawled and lunged to tag Noah, who came in like a rocket — springboard clothesline on Nightfang, enzuigiri on Red Fang, then a diving crossbody that got two and three-quarters! The fans came alive, chanting “Let’s go Noah!”
Noah climbed high, signaling for a 450 splash, but Vlad leapt onto the apron again, shouting at the referee. Red Fang shook the ropes, causing Noah to lose his balance. He crashed down into the ring, clutching his ribs. Nightfang pounced, drilling him with the Venomous DDT. Red Fang rushes over and hits Sanders with the Vampire Lunge to block the save as the referee counted one… two… three.
Winners: The Fangs of Despair (w/ Count Vlad)
The bell rang and the Raleigh fans booed furiously. Vlad climbed inside, raising both men’s arms high as they snarled into the cameras. Sanders tried to pull Noah to safety, but the Dominion stood tall over them, dominance on full display.
Sam Duffy:
“Once again, Count Vlad’s interference hands the victory to his monsters! This is a disgrace!”
Rick Granger:
“A disgrace? No, Sam. That’s dominance. That’s inevitability. That’s the Dark Dominion!”
As the Fangs posed, the arena lights flickered. For a split second, the white flame symbol flashed across the big screen.
The fans erupted with a gasp as Vlad froze, glaring at the image. Red Fang and Nightfang snarled and beat their chests, but Vlad’s smirk faded, replaced by a scowl.
The broadcast ended with Vlad leading his men up the ramp, as Sanders and Murphy recovered in the ring to the cheers of the Raleigh crowd.
Sam Duffy:
“Joe Sanders and Noah Murphy gave it everything they had, but once again, the Dark Dominion leaves with their arms raised — thanks to Count Vlad’s constant interference!”
Rick Granger:
“Stop crying about it, Sam. The record books don’t say how you won, they just say you did. And the Fangs of Despair? They did.”
Sam Duffy:
“But tonight we saw something else — the white flame symbol flashing across the screen, cutting right into the heart of the Dominion. Something is haunting Count Vlad, and you can feel it!”
Rick Granger:
“Haunting? That was nothing but smoke and mirrors! The only thing haunting HCW is the knowledge that the Dominion cannot be stopped!”
Sam Duffy:
“Fans, we are out of time! From Raleigh, North Carolina, this has been HCW Voltage. We’ll see you next week — goodnight, everybody!”
The camera faded out on Sanders and Murphy regrouping in the ring, the Dominion backing up the ramp with Vlad’s scowl still lingering after the white flame interruption.
Stay Tuned. More to come.
