Whenever Wyatt enters the darkened arena carrying his torch lantern, the “fireflies” in the crowd are a spectacle unto themselves. The thousands of fans holding up little lights from their cell phones, and Wyatt’s torch, the only luminance to cut through the vast umbra draped over the masses.
Wyatt remembers the first time he witnessed this phenomenon. It was something he had not planned.
“It was madness,” He said, “It was a euphoric moment, and I had a hard time taking it in. [Luke] Harper tugged at my shirt and said, are you seeing this? It wasn’t something that I provoked or asked them to do, it’s something that they just did.”
Wyatt’s character is based off of cult leaders like Jim Jones or Charles Manson. The persona resembles one of these messianic idols in the prime of their influence as opposed to, say, the prime of their decline.
Though, it is a plot direction ripe for a future storyline. Imagine Bray Wyatt’s turn as a boxcar and jug of wine.
The “Tramp, bum, hobo” inmate on death row plot remains, however, one for the booking philosophers. Wyatt, who is at present closer to a pre-incendiary Waco David Koresh, sees his own character as a reflection of an eloquence that fans respond to.
“If you have a voice like mine,” He said, “That I want to project and I want people to hear, millions and millions of people watch this show every week. If you have a childhood dream to change the world, it’s the perfect outlet.”
Since the brand split, Wyatt has relished a chance to soak in something other than cellphone light: the proverbial spotlight. He has found himself involved in some angles with current WWE Champion, Dean Ambrose.
“I have a rap sheet with him a mile long,” said Wyatt, “My mindset is: eradicate everyone.”
He finished by stating the significance of his fireflies on any given night, “I always have someone with me,” Wyatt said, “It’s not just me, or me and Rowan, it’s me and the legion.”
Every Messianic fanatic always has a demise. Maybe Bray will lock the audience in the building and burn the place to the ground. Maybe he will incite the murder of a foe. Or maybe he’ll convince all the fireflies to take a slug of some refreshing Kool Aid.
The days have, indeed, been so hot. And what is pro wrestling without some real heat?