(MW) A science experiment gone wrong? (MW)

[themorbidwolf]

-Out of character dislaimer-
The following work of fiction contains extreme mature themes, and may be triggering to the senses. Viewer discretion is heavily advised
-End of Out of Character disclaimer-

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Opening, we find Wolf sitting at the kitchen table. In front of him is a bottle of Jack Daniels. About half of the bottle is empty, and we also see a notebook in front of him, while he is also holding a pen. As he dictates the following side effect we hear his voice narration.

"Side effect number one. Liquor no longer has any effect on my central nervous system. I can no longer get drunk. Interesting... This also includes beer. I've tested domestic, imported, and even the strongest ales, and the same applies. Which means I'm immune to beer, and liquor. Making me the world's safest designated driver. A designation, I did not want or ask for, but that's currently where we stand. Also my vomit is now multi-colored. The phrase "Taste the Rainbow" has a whole new gross fucked up meaning for me."

I take the glass bottle of Jack Daniels placing it back on top of the fridge. It is little more than a direction.

Erik Holland was a man who competed against me for the Revival Title match against me, and while we both failed in our initial goal, the powers that be decided to give us a return match. Specifically, a casket match.

I, have been in a ton of casket matches through out the years. I've won some, and I've lost some. But, I didn't know too much about my opponent. Some people also chastise me for still owning a VCR but I wanted to give this promo a little bit of old school flavor. I had a friend convert Erik Holland's promo to a cassette tape so we could all revisit yesteryear in the present day.

Erik, I didn't find much substance to you talking to a coffin. It was like you expected Count Dracula to pop out, and welcome your ass back in. Close the lid, and you could both disappear for all eternity. While that is a fun fantasy for me to envision, that just doesn't work in the real world.

Wolf looks toward the camera and winks. Erik was going to wish he never signed the contract to this match. His second match to potentially get the man who brought me into this organization. The man who who experimented on me, and brought me to this point. A man who also danged an alliance of power so great, that it could cripple the EPW forever. But also a man I've beaten all ready. That man is Jestyr Seryous. Does an owned victory over this man mean that makes us even? Not by a long shot. Getting past me to get to Jestyr Seryous though, no that was not going to happen!

You're going to fight me? Oh that's fucking rich. These people don't mean a goddamn thing to me. You listen to them all you want but I'll rely on the only thing I can trust, and that is myself! I can promise you that you don't that you don't have the type of fight that I do. All my life in this business, my fellow peers have had it out for me. The only thing that will not only stop me is father time, but that will stop the rest of us. But, judging by his watch I still have plenty of time. You don't possess the power, or talent to make it past me. That's not my ego talking either. That's just the ugly truth you don't want to listen too. But now you're going to listen to me, and be apart of my experiment.

See, I wasn't going to make this personal, but it became personal when I noticed your little cheer leader making bets. Now, you both can call me petty but I'm taking it personally. To prove everybody wrong. So you can understand that some time its just dumb as fuck to bet against me. Then you revealed your weaknesses to me. As if you talking about it gave you enough power to overcome it.

But, the real truth of matter is you can thank Jestyr Seryous for setting these event into motion. The weapon your Hardcore Champion created is now going to take you out. Ironic right?

I know its boring starting in my kitchen rediscovering every day habits after having a piece of nano technology inserted into your brain, and experimental steroids coursing through your veins through no fault of your own. Because you're still on the side of the mad scientist regardless of what he's done to you. No, see if you were in my shoes you probably would have been hanging by the ceiling fan by now. But I digress. Now we're going to get into some uncharted territory. I'm going to use your own words to do it.

Moving from my kitchen we head down the hall, and over to the right we head into my personal studio. I open the door to reveal the room is lit by an over head black light. Walking over to a custom creation covered by a cloth. I take off the cloth revealing its an animatronic head, but its a severed head of Erik Holland with the spinal cord hanging down mounted on a pike. Clearly inspired by the horror movie Reanimator.

A beauty isn't it? This provides me plenty of motivation while you didn't provide much of your own. But now, we're getting down to the nitty gritty Erik.


*Severe ADHD*

*Severe Depression*

*Suicidal Ideation*

*PTSD*

*Light Schizophrenia*



Clearly, you would need medication to regulate most of these conditions. I'm guessing you got into this business to become a better version of yourself. Those days are long gone for me. I realize this will be seen as tasteless as it gets. We didn't have to go here, but there's no turning back now.

I get a remote control, to the head, and adjust some of the controls. Its eyes move, and I manage to get it to stick its tongue out.

Your promo was a good trick, but not good enough because threre's one thing I learned in a casket match. That lesson is you have to go outside of yourself, and do whatever needs to be done. I'm in the perfect position for that. I'm going to come into this match triggering you to the point where you can't function. I'm going to literally rip your mental state apart. Put you back into therapy so you'll never grace a wrestling ring again. While I'm shredding your mental state; I'm also going to shred your physical condition to the point where you are sucking soup through a straw. While you have one of those funny little seat belts in your wheel chair!

Its not often you find this level of honesty any where, but I'm no longer holding back. Let's see how tasteless I can get before the EPW faithful have a coronary over what's contained in here. 

Turning, we leave my personal studio heading back into the living room. I head over to a book shelf pulling out a medical dictionary. I'm not going to relist the symptoms over again but I did find one that was of a particular interest, and decided to skip to that immediately. That symptom was *Risk-Taking."


Now for the sake of time, and clarity let's just skip to the last one. That being risk taking because this is clearly a risk that did not pay off. Maybe if you would have paid attention to your other symptoms, you would have chosen to prepare yourself better. All you had to do was ask Jestyr Seryous about how he, and I made a career out of ripping motherfuckers apart every where we went. I guess you should have listened to those voices telling you to do it but you didn't. Now look at where it has gotten you. In too deep, looking like you have a death wish.


Does this look like a man who makes a habit out of hiding? The reason for my absence in the Revival Title match in not being one hundred percent was kidney stones. I have sense passed them and its clear you need to get better at your process. I'm simply not the man you want to motivate because I'll take advantage of you every time. Without feeling bad for anything it takes to get me the win. This week you were simply outclassed. Maybe you need to be selfish, and invite your ego back, because the only thing you're going to hear is the sound of that casket lid slamming shut!

It appears you have taken the wrong advice from Stevie Satisfaction, or whoever it was when you decided I'd be a fucking cake walk in this casket match. I love the fact that you were so wrong, but I'll love it even more when you deteriorate in our match, and I get to be the one to put an end to it.

My advice is to learn from this. Even if you hate my guts. This minimal effort will always get you no where.

Now again, I'm going to skip ahead again one last time. I had an uncle who was a bipolar schizophrenic so I do have some life experience in that area. But it isn't going to help you any. I want you to spiral into a schizophrenic episode while also aggravating your PSTD after I pad lock you into that casket. I'm such a nice guy for that aren't I Erik? You're fucking welcome too!

Let me dumb this down for you once again so you'll understand. I'm the monster, and you're not! I'm okay with being a piece of shit. Maybe, I'm the science experiment gone wrong, but its more than likely I'm the science experiment gone right finally. Next time you open your mouth pull your foot out of it! Also Ally, I'm sorry that your crush won't be moving on, so you'll be able to complete your wet dream but that's my life my dear.

I head to my bedroom, pulling out my suitcase. I had to pack, book a hotel, and secure my eating arrangements as well. The EPW may have wanted Erik to move on, but just like in the battle for the EPW Revival Title Erik was going to fall again.


It was going to be my absolute pleasure to put this mental case down for them. I had no compassion, or empathy either. Nobody ever had any for me. I just felt the need to return the favor. If that made me a sociopath, or something even worse I was okay fine with it. I'd get plenty of sleep at night while Erik was clearly going to find his final rest.......... permanently.........................