Post by Deleted on Jul 2, 2023 0:30:13 GMT -5
A day in the life of a Satanist
“Many people have asked me what the day-to-day life of a Satanist is like. Honestly, not much different than anyone else. But I will tell you this, I follow eleven simple rules daily. I can give you those rules and an example or two for each one, if you’d like.”
He pulls out a large leather bound book, placing it onto a table and flipping it open he starts to read these rules aloud. His fingers trailing over the lines on the page as he reads.
“The Eleven Rules of Satanism. Simple facts to live by, hell most are common sense. Things our parents should have ingrained in us from infancy.”
He brought his finger down to number one. Each time he read these words, they filled him with memories of the first time he promised to follow each and every word, to commit them to memory. He could probably tell her each one without looking at his book.
“Do not give opinions or advice unless you are asked. In other words, unless someone asks for your opinions or your advice. Keep your fucking mouths shut. Keep your opinions and advice to yourself, for giving those things to a person who did not ask for it, is wasted. Be sure that what you are saying is going to be welcomed and listened to before doing any bullshit. It sadly happens far too much in the industry.”
He followed along with the next rule, number two. The reporter couldn’t take her eyes off him, even as he explained every one to her, giving excerpts from his life in the ring along with it. She was one hundred percent hooked on what he had to say.
“Do not tell your troubles to others unless you are sure they want to hear them. In other words, don’t sit around and complain to people, unless you are absolutely sure they want to hear them. I personally don’t care about your problems, what’s causing them. What I care about is what needs to happen in that ring. You aren’t my family or my close friends, therefore, you don’t matter.”
Onto the third rule, his fingers running over the letters as if he was reading braille. So easy to live a life that shows the only real true power in the world, is the power within yourself. A concept more people should live by.
“When in another’s lair, show him respect or else do not go there. Ah, now this is a good one. This is about RESPECT for yourself, this is about respect for others. Which we all should do. And respecting someone doesn’t mean you have to believe that they will beat you. It’s about respect in general, something people seem to lack these days. Not to worry, I will be your teacher.”
One of his favorites was up next, he smiled as he read it. He loved any chance he got to be violent. Any chance he had to spill blood, he would do.
“If a guest in your lair annoys you, treat him cruelly and without mercy. Now, I can get behind. For those of you who don’t know me. Every time I step into that ring, that’s my lair. Out there, I am a fucking GOD. I am in control. If you annoy me, if you make jests, I will deal with you according to my laws..”
The next one was one he followed easily, unlike some of these people, he wasn’t out trying to fuck every woman he came across.
“Do not make sexual advances unless you are given the mating signal. Well, no need to worry about that. I’m not interested in any of that nonsense. For this law, see the above one. I’m not here to find a ring rat, I’m not here to find a wife. I’m here to spill blood, to take titles, and elevate them to the next level.”
He chuckled and continued to give a sermon-like conversation with the reporter, who seemed to hang on his every word.
“Do not take that which does not belong to you unless it is a burden to the other person and he cries out to be relieved. I’ve heard the cries for a champion WORTHY of the title. And here I stand, ready to be that champion the company deserves.”
He took a deep breath, pausing for a moment to look at the female reporter, who still was completely enamored with him. Another soft chuckle and he continued.
“Acknowledge the power of magic if you have employed it successfully to obtain your desires. If you deny the power of magic after having called upon it with success, you will lose all you have obtained. Well, it’s rare that I call on magic for anything, what I do, I do with my OWN power.”
He smiles looking at the reporter, before continuing. She leaned forward practically falling out of her chair, with desire. The longing she looked at him with, pulled another chuckle from him.
“Do not complain about anything to which you need not subject yourself. Now there’s something we hear a lot in this industry. Complaining. Whiney excuses from an immature man child and bellyaching over the fact that they lost fair and square to someone with more talent, instead of accepting their downfall, growing and seeking revenge.”
An eye roll escaped him at this time. That was something that happened all too often in this industry. Men and Women who couldn’t accept defeat, so they’d run off and cry on their social media feeds and worry about what’s happening next week on the show. Before doing something drastic and joining the boss in their office, before being released.
“Do not harm little children. I think that goes without saying. Hell for those who don’t know. I’m a father. To a beautiful daughter. And if someone harmed her, oh the things I would do to them. I will end anyone who comes after her.”
He spoke with such a fire that it was hard for the woman to keep her balance, teetering on the edge of dropping her panties for him.
“Do not kill non-human animals unless you are attacked or for your food. Well non-human animals, damn. What does that say about torturing the human ones? Is that legal? Well in this sport, it’s actually praised. He who can hit harder and last longer is the man who makes the rules. Or in this case, follow a certain set of them and get’s shit done. If you are going to be bad, be bad with purpose, otherwise, what is there to forgive?”
He laughed softly, looking at her once more. Then down to the leather bound book, the last rule for living as a Satanist.
“When walking in open territory, bother no one. If someone bothers you, ask him to stop. If he does not stop, destroy him. Again, this is much like this industry we chose to involve ourselves in. If someone bothers you, destroy him. It is the only way to keep his mouth shut, with wires.”
He chuckled loudly, his voice booming off the walls around him.
“Simple really, easy to live by. Yet, people flock to the so-called Son of God, the master of the sheep. A Shepherd. You know what happens to sheep, they are sacrificed. Just as I will do to every single person who steps into that ring with me. I serve no master and I am definitely not a sheep. I’m a snake, a viper, ready to strike. And strike I will.”
He stands and adjusts his tie, fixing his cufflinks and then walks off the camera without another word.
Dance with the Angel of Death
“Ladies and gentlemen, behold the darkness that consumes your souls. Prepare to witness a descent into the depths of despair, as I, Damien, emerge from the shadows to claim victory once again. Tonight, my opponent, you shall tremble in fear as I reveal the true power that lies within me. For I am not merely a man; I am the embodiment of your darkest nightmares. I am "The Angel of Death"!”
The camera cuts to flashing images of Damien dominating his opponents in previous matches, each strike and submission executed with precision and malice. Every shot gives chase to the next, showcasing how he’s destroyed so many before. You can see the change in him with each clip, each one more violent than the one before. His eyes pierced through the camera as he began to speak again.
“The time has come for you to face your deepest fears, for I have embraced the darkness that resides within my soul. I have walked through the fires of damnation, unafraid and unyielding. And now, all of those that walk these hallowed halls, you will witness firsthand the price of challenging the Angel of Death.”
The camera zooms in on Damien's clenched fists, covered in black gloves adorned with skull motifs. A beat passes, again his voice fills the area.
“I have delved into the shadows, plumbing the depths of my darkest desires, for the path to victory is paved with the sins of the fallen. In the ring, I am not bound by morality or compassion. No, I am fueled by the malevolence that dwells within me. I am willing to do whatever it takes to claim triumph, even if it means embracing the darkness that lies dormant within us all. I am willing to do what others will not and I will not bat an eyelash or waste a moment doing so.”
Images flash on the screen, showing Damien viciously attacking his opponents with a sadistic grin on his face, relishing in their suffering. Once again he speaks, his voice growing colder.
“To the roster of OCW, you stand in the way of my ascension, and for that, you shall pay the ultimate price. Prepare to bear witness as I unleash a storm of pain and despair upon your fragile body. Your screams of agony will echo through the depths of this arena, a haunting melody of your demise.”
The camera cuts to shots of Damien training in a dimly lit gym, his intense workouts accompanied by sinister music. The cords of his entrance theme playing loudly, as his fists meet a punching bag over and over.
“Darkness is not a foe to be feared; it is a source of unimaginable power. And I, "The Angel of Death," have harnessed that power to become a force unlike anything this world has ever seen. Tonight, my opponent, you will understand the true meaning of terror. Your body will crumble under the weight of my malevolence, and your spirit will be shattered, forever lost in the abyss.”
As Damien speaks, the camera pans to a mural depicting him standing tall amidst a graveyard, the words "Death Awaits" etched across it.
“Remember, all of you, as you step into the ring to face me, the Angel of Death, there is no escape from the darkness that surrounds you. Embrace your fate, for it is written in blood and sealed with your pain. This is not just a wrestling match; this is a battle for your very soul. And when the final bell tolls, I shall stand victorious, having shown the world that I am the harbinger of their nightmares.”
The camera fades out, leaving the audience with a bone-chilling sense of anticipation for Damien's upcoming match.