Post by themorbidwolf on Aug 24, 2024 14:02:32 GMT -5
PREVIOUSLY......
Those rabid wrestling fans cheering on my demise, and yet a sense of peace has come over me. Finally able to do things on my terms. NEW, who knows when and if it will return. That is definitely a chapter that is over for me. If it were a book, you could watch the page burn. As your eyes glimmer looking at the embers engulf the page. Alas though. The agents here were kind enough to walk me to the back. So, I wouldn't be bothered by those bottom feeders they call "fans" and also by that fucktard Morbid Wolf. I, nearly risked my own reputation trying kill that bastard. Only for him to some how survive. This is how you can tell life is bull shit. Because it never goes how you'd envision.
I reach the end of the parking lot only to find that a bag is placed over my head, and the last thing I can remember is the sound from the engine of a van. Likely a black van, speeding away, with my location simply reading "unknown" I knew better than anybody though, that the search party would never come.
Those rabid wrestling fans cheering on my demise, and yet a sense of peace has come over me. Finally able to do things on my terms. NEW, who knows when and if it will return. That is definitely a chapter that is over for me. If it were a book, you could watch the page burn. As your eyes glimmer looking at the embers engulf the page. Alas though. The agents here were kind enough to walk me to the back. So, I wouldn't be bothered by those bottom feeders they call "fans" and also by that fucktard Morbid Wolf. I, nearly risked my own reputation trying kill that bastard. Only for him to some how survive. This is how you can tell life is bull shit. Because it never goes how you'd envision.
I reach the end of the parking lot only to find that a bag is placed over my head, and the last thing I can remember is the sound from the engine of a van. Likely a black van, speeding away, with my location simply reading "unknown" I knew better than anybody though, that the search party would never come.
PRESENT DAY.....
"You're awake. I will be removing the cloth from your face soon. Although, your perception will be heavily skewed during this process. We've allowed you to let out your steam. Give you a sense of self entitlement. Watch you flourish into the type of individual we knew you could always be. You can't end us. We are legion, we see all, and we know all. Our methods are a last resort. We can provide you with all of the things you need to work. We can make sure your alias is never revealed. We can erase all of the history that you want erased. The idea that you thought you had wiped us out. That is one flawed, and hilarious argument. We will not ask again. Our methods will begin with torture. It will get increasingly worse based upon your answer. We need your answer."
I leaned back feeling faint, almost as if I was going to fall over. When they raised me up in whatever they had me tied to, it would surely end in torture. I was going to be tortured regardless. I felt like there was only one way this was going to end. I chose to stay silent.
"Mr. Rivers, we do appreciate your fortitude, and we want you to understand that it didn't have to be this way. We're going to initiate the sequence now. When you awake in whatever medium you've decided to partake in, we will consider your answer as a yes. From there we'll send you all of the pertinent information. You'll officially be a ghost. A legend. Whoever decides to inhabit your time might as well enjoy it because in the annals of history you will no longer cease to exist. We chose this path for you long before you even knew you were a puppet on a string. To insure that you play along we've left you a gift. Initiate the sequence."
The room is then illuminated with a bright light. So bright in fact, it nearly blinds the viewer. As it begins to rescind we can see Rivers squinting. Then we see a blow torch come into view. A hand held that reads MAPP gas. Rivers still remains silent. We can see he's chained to a steel folding chair which must be extremely uncomfortable. The operator turns kicking over the chair. Another operator comes into view cutting the chains with bolt cutters. We hear the tool then clang after being tossed aside. The second operator then holds down the arms of Rivers. Prying his hands wide open. The first operator approaches River with the hand held blow torch. The second operator raises his arm as the first operator places the flame to the skin of the right hand. Rivers doesn't budge. No emotion at first. As the fire begins to penetrate the nerve endings Rivers begins to come to life. As both operators hold him down so they can do the other hand. Rivers screams, and the sound of his screams is where we fade to black.
The fucking hospital? The fucking power of this all. My hands are fine. They don't even hurt. How is this possible? I watched, and endured the type of pain, and manipulation that would bring any other man down forever. I'm not just some pawn in whatever game they're playing. Who knows when, and where they'll be sending the information that I'm officially back under the radar. A ghost, a myth. The only information that will exist are the remnants of whatever is' left to time. I don't want them to write it so I'm going to write my own story. I'm awaiting my discharge papers with the doctor comes in with my diagnosis. I still can't see. The words of the diagnosis are faint. The words, and letters look like big balloons that pop when they go away. Clearly, I was drugged. I feel myself become faint, as the whole world crashes around me.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Nashville, Tennessee
I'm instructed to search my apartment. My floors to be exact. Only somebody who knew me for years would guess I purposely have a false floor. Yes, living off of the victims, and the families I've destroyed sure has put me up in something a lot less modest than it could have been. I arrive at the section of the false floor prying it up with a crowbar. Inside there are false passports. These were so good not even our government could spot the fact they were a forgery. The next item were mags to get me started. Four mags to get me started. Not bad. I had a contact on the black market that could get me more at prices that were dirt cheap. I then pulled brown leather double shoulder holster with 2 .45 caliber pistols inside. The grips were customized with my alias, and damn they looked sharp. Taking off my suit jacket I put the double holster on, and it still fit perfect. The two guns felt comfortable too. Not a heavy weight. These were going to be a problem in today's society but what the fuck did I care. I was on the outside of society. I still had an answering machine which, and don't ask me why I decided to check it but I did. One message, and who knows how long it had been stored.
I immediately walk over to the answering machine hit the button to play the message, and this is what I hear.
"Mr. Rivers this is Britlyn Baylor, CEO of Elevate Pro Wrestling. I'm rounding out my security detail, and I'd like for you to join it. Our show is called Danger, and there is a contract on the table for you to wrestle. Please call me at ....."
It's been awhile since I've had a job that matched my unique talents. I made the call to Britlyn, accepting the job onto the security detail, and the wrestling contract. I was faxed over a copy of my opponent. Another returning "star" to their roster after a long hiatus. A woman who called herself Diamond Rose. I went into my modest living room taking my cell phone, (not my house phone) off of the charger. I booked a private plane, and all that was left was to make this official. I needed to make some comments regarding Diamond Rose. I was going to be arriving to East Rutherford, New Jersey early. Some of the strictest gun laws on the planet. So it was really going to piss them off when I arrived with my guns in two. Fuck em, I thought. This like everything else would be handled for me. Was it a convenience? Probably. Do I care that it pisses you off. Not in the least.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Before we get to my match against Diamond Rose, there are a few things I must stress to the rest of the EPW roster. I'm a professional. Professional comes first before anything. I will not use derogatory tactics against a woman. Anybody who is looking to hear colorful language, and wildly inappropriate themes. Well, you're probably going to be disappointed. Although, you'll be pleased to know that my style of technical wrestling is superior to yours in every single way, and I cannot wait to prove it to the rest of you. Now that my little disclaimer is over we can continue with our regularly scheduled business."
I pour myself a glass of wine, as I lean back onto the leather interior. I check my pocket watch, and it will take one hour and forty seven minutes to arrive in East Rutherford, New Jersey. This gives me time to meet the EPW crew, talent, and whoever else on the way to their show Danger. Which is a great name for a show. It was now time to also conduct my business regarding the returning Diamond Rose.
"Diamond, like you, its taken me a long time to return. To be honest, I wasn't even expecting to come back into this unique world people call professional wrestling. We're both fortunate that we're both returning. That certainly means the EPW is going to have a classic on its hands from the time it begins, until the time it ends. I'm not concerned about any of your former feuds, or what you did formerly. I was looking forward to seeing exactly what you were about. Yet, here I am doing the guess work. No matter, you'll either reveal yourself or you won't. I have no doubt you're an extremely talented woman. However, talent will only carry you so far against skill. Don't mistake me here. I'm not suggesting in any way you have a lack of skills. Your skills just don't match mine. That is the easiest way of putting it. When we examine the world as it pertains to men vs women many people would say that men have the advantage. When you place a scope on the generalities things actually become clearer than that. Each species has its own advantages, and disadvantages. Personality wise women are more methodical than men. That means I need more home work on you. Which I do not have. However, that is not the end of the road for me regarding us in this match."
Turbulence, but it was mild. Mild was good. I was never a fan of rocky weather. Storms were the worst, and you had to be careful with your travel plans.
As the plane lands it rolls into a large airport hangar. The door opens and I walk down the stairs to a car that is waiting for me. I get into the car. The driver up front is looking at me like I'm familiar. This is when I reach into my suit jacket pulling one of the .45 caliber pistols, pointing directly in his face.
"Drive!"
The driver turns around immediately. From a wide view that I can also see from inside the car, the driver peels out, taking me to my destination without so much as a word. I do have to say that the driver was very mindful of the traffic. I didn't have to blow the back of his head out making other arrangements on the way to the arena which was very nice.
As I arrive to the Meadowlands Center (IZOD Center), the driver's side door of my car opens, and the driver runs off in terror. It makes me laugh as I get out looking for the back entrance. I walk over to the door opening it. Entering, its not my first time in this building, but its the first time where I felt like I was a real professional.
Walking down the halls, I turn a corner, and see a man heading out of Britlyn's office. I, then head that direction.
I leaned back feeling faint, almost as if I was going to fall over. When they raised me up in whatever they had me tied to, it would surely end in torture. I was going to be tortured regardless. I felt like there was only one way this was going to end. I chose to stay silent.
"Mr. Rivers, we do appreciate your fortitude, and we want you to understand that it didn't have to be this way. We're going to initiate the sequence now. When you awake in whatever medium you've decided to partake in, we will consider your answer as a yes. From there we'll send you all of the pertinent information. You'll officially be a ghost. A legend. Whoever decides to inhabit your time might as well enjoy it because in the annals of history you will no longer cease to exist. We chose this path for you long before you even knew you were a puppet on a string. To insure that you play along we've left you a gift. Initiate the sequence."
The room is then illuminated with a bright light. So bright in fact, it nearly blinds the viewer. As it begins to rescind we can see Rivers squinting. Then we see a blow torch come into view. A hand held that reads MAPP gas. Rivers still remains silent. We can see he's chained to a steel folding chair which must be extremely uncomfortable. The operator turns kicking over the chair. Another operator comes into view cutting the chains with bolt cutters. We hear the tool then clang after being tossed aside. The second operator then holds down the arms of Rivers. Prying his hands wide open. The first operator approaches River with the hand held blow torch. The second operator raises his arm as the first operator places the flame to the skin of the right hand. Rivers doesn't budge. No emotion at first. As the fire begins to penetrate the nerve endings Rivers begins to come to life. As both operators hold him down so they can do the other hand. Rivers screams, and the sound of his screams is where we fade to black.
The fucking hospital? The fucking power of this all. My hands are fine. They don't even hurt. How is this possible? I watched, and endured the type of pain, and manipulation that would bring any other man down forever. I'm not just some pawn in whatever game they're playing. Who knows when, and where they'll be sending the information that I'm officially back under the radar. A ghost, a myth. The only information that will exist are the remnants of whatever is' left to time. I don't want them to write it so I'm going to write my own story. I'm awaiting my discharge papers with the doctor comes in with my diagnosis. I still can't see. The words of the diagnosis are faint. The words, and letters look like big balloons that pop when they go away. Clearly, I was drugged. I feel myself become faint, as the whole world crashes around me.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Nashville, Tennessee
I'm instructed to search my apartment. My floors to be exact. Only somebody who knew me for years would guess I purposely have a false floor. Yes, living off of the victims, and the families I've destroyed sure has put me up in something a lot less modest than it could have been. I arrive at the section of the false floor prying it up with a crowbar. Inside there are false passports. These were so good not even our government could spot the fact they were a forgery. The next item were mags to get me started. Four mags to get me started. Not bad. I had a contact on the black market that could get me more at prices that were dirt cheap. I then pulled brown leather double shoulder holster with 2 .45 caliber pistols inside. The grips were customized with my alias, and damn they looked sharp. Taking off my suit jacket I put the double holster on, and it still fit perfect. The two guns felt comfortable too. Not a heavy weight. These were going to be a problem in today's society but what the fuck did I care. I was on the outside of society. I still had an answering machine which, and don't ask me why I decided to check it but I did. One message, and who knows how long it had been stored.
I immediately walk over to the answering machine hit the button to play the message, and this is what I hear.
"Mr. Rivers this is Britlyn Baylor, CEO of Elevate Pro Wrestling. I'm rounding out my security detail, and I'd like for you to join it. Our show is called Danger, and there is a contract on the table for you to wrestle. Please call me at ....."
It's been awhile since I've had a job that matched my unique talents. I made the call to Britlyn, accepting the job onto the security detail, and the wrestling contract. I was faxed over a copy of my opponent. Another returning "star" to their roster after a long hiatus. A woman who called herself Diamond Rose. I went into my modest living room taking my cell phone, (not my house phone) off of the charger. I booked a private plane, and all that was left was to make this official. I needed to make some comments regarding Diamond Rose. I was going to be arriving to East Rutherford, New Jersey early. Some of the strictest gun laws on the planet. So it was really going to piss them off when I arrived with my guns in two. Fuck em, I thought. This like everything else would be handled for me. Was it a convenience? Probably. Do I care that it pisses you off. Not in the least.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Before we get to my match against Diamond Rose, there are a few things I must stress to the rest of the EPW roster. I'm a professional. Professional comes first before anything. I will not use derogatory tactics against a woman. Anybody who is looking to hear colorful language, and wildly inappropriate themes. Well, you're probably going to be disappointed. Although, you'll be pleased to know that my style of technical wrestling is superior to yours in every single way, and I cannot wait to prove it to the rest of you. Now that my little disclaimer is over we can continue with our regularly scheduled business."
I pour myself a glass of wine, as I lean back onto the leather interior. I check my pocket watch, and it will take one hour and forty seven minutes to arrive in East Rutherford, New Jersey. This gives me time to meet the EPW crew, talent, and whoever else on the way to their show Danger. Which is a great name for a show. It was now time to also conduct my business regarding the returning Diamond Rose.
"Diamond, like you, its taken me a long time to return. To be honest, I wasn't even expecting to come back into this unique world people call professional wrestling. We're both fortunate that we're both returning. That certainly means the EPW is going to have a classic on its hands from the time it begins, until the time it ends. I'm not concerned about any of your former feuds, or what you did formerly. I was looking forward to seeing exactly what you were about. Yet, here I am doing the guess work. No matter, you'll either reveal yourself or you won't. I have no doubt you're an extremely talented woman. However, talent will only carry you so far against skill. Don't mistake me here. I'm not suggesting in any way you have a lack of skills. Your skills just don't match mine. That is the easiest way of putting it. When we examine the world as it pertains to men vs women many people would say that men have the advantage. When you place a scope on the generalities things actually become clearer than that. Each species has its own advantages, and disadvantages. Personality wise women are more methodical than men. That means I need more home work on you. Which I do not have. However, that is not the end of the road for me regarding us in this match."
Turbulence, but it was mild. Mild was good. I was never a fan of rocky weather. Storms were the worst, and you had to be careful with your travel plans.
As the plane lands it rolls into a large airport hangar. The door opens and I walk down the stairs to a car that is waiting for me. I get into the car. The driver up front is looking at me like I'm familiar. This is when I reach into my suit jacket pulling one of the .45 caliber pistols, pointing directly in his face.
"Drive!"
The driver turns around immediately. From a wide view that I can also see from inside the car, the driver peels out, taking me to my destination without so much as a word. I do have to say that the driver was very mindful of the traffic. I didn't have to blow the back of his head out making other arrangements on the way to the arena which was very nice.
As I arrive to the Meadowlands Center (IZOD Center), the driver's side door of my car opens, and the driver runs off in terror. It makes me laugh as I get out looking for the back entrance. I walk over to the door opening it. Entering, its not my first time in this building, but its the first time where I felt like I was a real professional.
Walking down the halls, I turn a corner, and see a man heading out of Britlyn's office. I, then head that direction.