Monsters, Men, and Fiends: Finding Kindred Spirits in Professional Wrestling
By Harper Smith
A lot of my childhood has been blocked out from my memory as a coping mechanism. Abuse tends to do that; you pick and choose particular moments and push them to the back burner of your heart and soul, protecting you from the ghosts. It’s difficult for me to look back at a lot because my journey has been one of many ups and downs, the highest of highs and the lowest of lows.
I don’t remember what it felt like to be a kid, but I do remember profoundly important moments that allowed a younger me to feel at peace with the escapism I longed for and found within two things: horror films and professional wrestling. As a child, I spent every penny of my allowance (and starved myself at school to save up my lunch money as well) on horror films, books, magazines, and every WWE (called WWF back then) pay-per-view event. My cousins would come over to watch every WrestleMania, Survivor Series, Royal Rumble, and SummerSlam, bringing snacks and sodas, while I typically used my allowance to foot the PPV bill. Those moments and memories mean so much to me, and when I have experienced the intersection of both, it has made this monster kid feel like a million bucks by combining my two biggest forms of escapism into a cornucopia of excitement and entertainment.
The first time I experienced that rush was on November 22nd, 1990. A nine-year-old me witnessed the televised debut of one of my biggest heroes growing up: The Undertaker. When the Superstar appeared at the Survivor Series pay-per-view that evening, giving fans the soon-to-be-beloved “Deadman” character that I felt so enthralled by, his slow walk and ominous presence felt scary and dangerous. ‘Taker quickly became an obsession of mine, allowing me to pull out any frustrations I felt and apply them to the larger-than-life persona of my favorite Superstar. It felt awesome to have a character in my favorite pastime representing my other biggest love: horror.
The Undertaker felt like a character pulled directly out of a PHANTASM film. The fear that audience members felt was tangible. The other Superstars sold the moves and helped elevate ‘Taker into a bona fide household name akin to Hulk Hogan or Randy “Macho Man” Savage. We all needed those massive stars, those heroes to look up to, and so the combination of wrestling and horror became my biggest obsession as my weekends were filled with renting the latest horror films that hit VHS, alongside renting the latest WWF home video that would be at my local video store. When The Undertaker put his opponents into their respective coffins after losing their matches, the Fangoria-and-Gorezone-reading horror nut I was (and still am) burst with excitement during a time in which I was very rarely excited. It brought me out of my shell. Now I would rush to school to talk to my classmates about what evil greatness The Undertaker had blessed (or cursed) us with the night before.
Following The Undertaker, my horror-loving-wrestling-obsessed-self found kinship with other horror kids, talking matches of other horror-centric personas such as Kane (who was initially billed as ‘Taker’s long-lost brother), Mankind, and various others. I didn’t get excited about the straight As I got in school, but when The Undertaker threw Mankind (aka Mick Foley) off the top of the cage at their vicious and intense Hell in a Cell match on June 28th, 1998, it felt like the exciting finale of a gnarly slasher film. It was what I considered to be a prototype for what we’d eventually see when Freddy went up against Jason in FREDDY VS JASON, an unstoppable feud between two horror icons. While the match left us fearing a real-life death had occurred a time or two, it’s still one of my favorites to this day.
Many years later, after I grew out of my love for professional wrestling, I started playing music in awful punk rock and hardcore bands and thought I had no time to staying up to date with my love for all things WWE. It wasn’t until 2017 when I was in the middle of a big life change and found myself with a lot of time and a drinking problem as well, that my Monday ritual would always be visiting a friend and hitting the bars before watching Monday Night Raw, something that quickly became more important to me than the drinking aspect of those Monday hangouts. As time went on, I became less interested in getting hammered and more locked into my love for storytelling and WWE.
What reignited my love for wrestling was the one-two punch of two more horror-centric characters: Finn Balor’s The Demon and most of all, and more importantly, Bray Wyatt. I fell back in love so hard with WWE when I started following those two, it was like my childhood in the early days of The Undertaker. There was something so electric about when Balor would conjure up his demon persona or whenever Bray Wyatt, the leader of the cult-heavy Wyatt Family, would have a match. I was addicted. I loved staying up to date on those matches. What was it about them that stood out to me? They were like me. I needed that because, in reality, I have never felt like anyone else since the pain of living in the wrong shell was always so unbearable. But seeing what I love portrayed so passionately by Windham Rotunda (Bray Wyatt’s real name) made me feel understood and feel like I wasn’t weird. If my favorite sports and entertainment — pro wrestling and horror — were represented together in such a cool way, then maybe I wasn’t alone and maybe there were tons of others like me. It felt like I had found my crew.
The year 2023 was a very difficult one for my family. We were in a yearlong situation that saw us living in a motel for 14 months, our days melting into the next without any difference. Staying up to date with WWE, Monday Night Raw, and Smackdown was something my kids and I quickly bonded over. We had something we could lose ourselves in since living out of a motel was the worst feeling around. We celebrated Bray’s matches, past and present, and his final match versus LA Knight was phenomenal — a black light match with a bright neon horror vibe that felt like it could have been lifted from a Joe Begos film. I still watch that match at least once a week; it’s one of my favorite matches of all time. The ending with Wyatt beating Knight before continuing the onslaught and culminating with a mysterious figure helping Wyatt by diving onto Knight as flames erupted, felt like something out of Panos Cosmatos’s Mandy, which itself is a visual treat for both WWE and horror fans everywhere.
Then came the day when I sat at my day job, feeling pretty low, and I read the news that Windham had passed away very unexpectedly. As I sat there, I couldn’t help but cry. My biggest wrestling hero of all time was gone, leaving behind a wife and children and millions of fans who adored his imagination and creativity. You can tell he loved creating scary-as-hell characters. His Fiend character, terrifying and viscerally striking, was so very cool, it was impossible to take your eyes off of him. Hell, his mask was designed by none other than Tom Savini! You knew you weren’t watching just another WWE Superstar with Wyatt. He was one of us and relished that fact. The loss was massive. I still feel it.
As a gift, because she knew how much Bray Wyatt meant to me, a friend of mine gave me a free tattoo of Wyatt’s death moth logo, something I wear on my body with pride and honor as a way to say thank you to the best character around and someone who, like The Undertaker, Kane, Mankind, and many others, gave a scared, horror-loving monster kid something to lose themselves in…and that’s special. That’s something that will never go away. 🩸
About
Harper Smith is a film journalist and composer, hailing from the Central Valley of California. For over a decade now, they have annoyed readers of many sites and magazines with an overabundance of Halloween 4 love and personal essays. Follow them on X @HarperisjustOK and visit their website Rainydaysforghosts.bandcamp.com.
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