Static
Apr 16, 2012 15:26:17 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Apr 16, 2012 15:26:17 GMT -5
We slowly fade from a black abyss, to a snowy, static laden screen, we hear the screen struggle with different frequencys, trying to adjust to a clear picture. After a little more struggling the picture becomes just clear enough so that we see a masked figure. The screen is still a bit static and black and white, so the details on this persons figure are hard to make out, then the screen 'shuts off'.. a few seconds slip by when the screen turns itself back on, the picture clear now, we see a man in a mask, a dingy, dirty white mask wrapped around his head, the stiffness of this mask makes it almost impossible to SEE any emotion or facial expression.
I am not real.
The voice beckons from behind the mask, the voice is familiar, if you're a wrestling fan anyway because it sounds like that of Damion Darkside.
Physically I am apparent. I, like the rest of you, have a fleshy cage holding in all of my muscles, my nerves, my organs. My foundation is the same as the rest of you, a skeletal core. Beyond the physical traits we all possess, that is where the common factors linking myself to the rest of you end. Although I appear as human, I consider myself to be anything but. Through years of bashing brains in, bleeding, heavy drug use and abusing alcohol further more then I myself were abused as a young child, I have been developed into this...
An amalgamation of everything deemed 'wrong' by society.. by you. Take the worst in people, the worst intentions, and couple them with a few select emotions such as HATE, and I am what becomes of it. A walking definition for the tortured, hated and scared. I am destruction, I am distain. I am everything the priests on television tell you is wrong with yourself. The difference between us?
I am willing to embrace it.
I am NOT willing to allow such things as compassion get in the way of my goals.
I am NOT willing to simply stop because of the pain I cause to others..
No one stopped when they were causing the pain I felt.
In a mere week, I will be re-entering the lions den. The 'squared circle' if you will. A place I was all but told I would never be allowed in again. I was told, my actions were tearing apart entire organisations, and even though they were successful on the surface, I was a cancer, eating them alive. Frontier is no different.
I did not come here to make friends. I came because it's an outlet. I came here because they were dumb enough to take a chance on me. The cancer.
My personal path of total annihilation begins next week, when I step toe to toe with a former lucha libre legend in El Guapo, Once one of the greatest lucha's in his homeland. From what I could unearth of this man, he was something short of a legend. People respected him. People paid money to see him in an area where money is hard to come by. And now look at you El Guapo. You're in the same boat as myself.
We're both in a low rate wrestling promotion trying to hold on to something once forgotten, accept there's a difference here.. Where you're attempting to restore some sense of glory, some semblance of honor to your career, all I want to do is make sure people remember why I am the most hated being in our industry. Your path is to rekindle that fire, my path is re-bathe my hands in blood.
A tragedy this is going to be for you Guapo, When the bell rings, it's going to hit you. You're not doing anything special against me. No glory will be restored, your pride... I will crush that just like I will your limbs. You will be blinded Guap..by your own blood and after the bell rings?
From behind Damion walks a blonde figure, her hair and overall appearance is a bit disheveled, the black mascara and eye liner are thick on her face. She resembles Marilyn Monroe had she been heavier into drugs and living in the 90's
My little slut here Marylin will climb on top of your unconcious body, stradling you. She will take out a little container of lipstick and on your mask she will write the number ONE. Why? Because I want it marked forever that you are the first victim in my path to a ring full of body bags.
The wrestling world isn't ready for me again.. and neither are you.
I am not real.
The voice beckons from behind the mask, the voice is familiar, if you're a wrestling fan anyway because it sounds like that of Damion Darkside.
Physically I am apparent. I, like the rest of you, have a fleshy cage holding in all of my muscles, my nerves, my organs. My foundation is the same as the rest of you, a skeletal core. Beyond the physical traits we all possess, that is where the common factors linking myself to the rest of you end. Although I appear as human, I consider myself to be anything but. Through years of bashing brains in, bleeding, heavy drug use and abusing alcohol further more then I myself were abused as a young child, I have been developed into this...
An amalgamation of everything deemed 'wrong' by society.. by you. Take the worst in people, the worst intentions, and couple them with a few select emotions such as HATE, and I am what becomes of it. A walking definition for the tortured, hated and scared. I am destruction, I am distain. I am everything the priests on television tell you is wrong with yourself. The difference between us?
I am willing to embrace it.
I am NOT willing to allow such things as compassion get in the way of my goals.
I am NOT willing to simply stop because of the pain I cause to others..
No one stopped when they were causing the pain I felt.
In a mere week, I will be re-entering the lions den. The 'squared circle' if you will. A place I was all but told I would never be allowed in again. I was told, my actions were tearing apart entire organisations, and even though they were successful on the surface, I was a cancer, eating them alive. Frontier is no different.
I did not come here to make friends. I came because it's an outlet. I came here because they were dumb enough to take a chance on me. The cancer.
My personal path of total annihilation begins next week, when I step toe to toe with a former lucha libre legend in El Guapo, Once one of the greatest lucha's in his homeland. From what I could unearth of this man, he was something short of a legend. People respected him. People paid money to see him in an area where money is hard to come by. And now look at you El Guapo. You're in the same boat as myself.
We're both in a low rate wrestling promotion trying to hold on to something once forgotten, accept there's a difference here.. Where you're attempting to restore some sense of glory, some semblance of honor to your career, all I want to do is make sure people remember why I am the most hated being in our industry. Your path is to rekindle that fire, my path is re-bathe my hands in blood.
A tragedy this is going to be for you Guapo, When the bell rings, it's going to hit you. You're not doing anything special against me. No glory will be restored, your pride... I will crush that just like I will your limbs. You will be blinded Guap..by your own blood and after the bell rings?
From behind Damion walks a blonde figure, her hair and overall appearance is a bit disheveled, the black mascara and eye liner are thick on her face. She resembles Marilyn Monroe had she been heavier into drugs and living in the 90's
My little slut here Marylin will climb on top of your unconcious body, stradling you. She will take out a little container of lipstick and on your mask she will write the number ONE. Why? Because I want it marked forever that you are the first victim in my path to a ring full of body bags.
The wrestling world isn't ready for me again.. and neither are you.