Post by Shadow on Jun 9, 2015 16:52:51 GMT -4
ONE YEAR AGO
“The Dark Storm!”
A tinted purple scene opens with Shadow standing inside the APW Ring on March 30th 2014. The sold out crowd is on their feet cheering wildly. As the camera focuses on Mark Mania’s body bouncing off the mat, Shadow stands up, and Nathanial Havok kicks Shadow square in the face knocking him through the ropes and outside the ring. Everything is in slow motion as Havok dives on top of Mark Mania while the referee counts. “One!” The crowd’s cheering turns to jeers. “Two!” People in the front row grab their hair and begin to pull at it. “THREE!” The bell rings as Shadow pushes himself off the floor. ‘The Usher of Darkness’ stands there, peering through the bottom and middle ropes at the man celebrating in the center of the ring. Even though Shadow said it didn’t matter to him whether he won or lost, he looked dejected. Deep down something gnawed away at him. The sound of the ring bell continues to echo and the camera focuses of Shadow’s solemn face as the scene fades.
NOW
“Zydrate comes in a little glass vial...” “A little glass vial?”
“THAT’S WHAT HE JUST FUCKING SAID!”
Shadow angrily hurled his glass bottle of Dublin Dr. Pepper and shatters the TV screen in a small explosion. Across the room, the behemoth sat in a tattered Barcalounger with faded red fabric. His trailer was bleak and the only light came from ‘the kitchen’ behind him or through the broken blinds covering his ‘living room” window. His front door was wide open with a box fan sitting close by. Sparks shot from the cracked glass of his old busted television. The sound ceased the chirping crickets and croaking frogs. After a minute he just stared, dumbfounded at what just took place.
“Well shit,” was all Shadow could say. His gaze shifted between at what remained of his TV and his still shaking right hand. He was angry at himself, now he didn’t have a fucking TV.
“Didn’t really think that one through, did you?”
The sultry British accent caused Shadow to shoot up out of his seat and spin around. As he rose, his hands clasped the pump action shotgun beside the chair and drew it up toward the voice. Standing in door was a very hot and stylish brunette carrying a black leather purse. Her eyes followed him although she made no movements.
“Who the hell are you?” The big man asked in a deep gruff voice.
“Bela Talbot,” the woman responded. She remained still, almost as if she expected him to pull a gun on her. “Listen, I’m not here to cause trouble, I just need some information.”
Shadow cocked the shotgun. “I got some information right here. You sure you want it?”
“Please,” she scoffed rolling her eyes. “If you were going to shoot me you’d done it already.”
Shadow took aim.
“Okay, okay,” Bela said as Shadow glared. “Listen, I’m just looking for someone, all I want is a location.”
“And I should help you out of the goodness of my heart?” The big man said sarcastically. He was hunched over; the trailer was too small for him. Shadow had to stoop. He wasn’t very menacing like that. Having the shotgun helped though.
“No, but I will give you something you want.” Shadow’s eyes traveled up and down her figure. Bela rolled her eyes, “Not that.”
She cautiously raised her hands and then reached into her purse with her right hand and pulled out a manila folder with two fingers. Shadow could clearly read the label; it said “APW.”
“You’re a little late. They already called and told me about my match. I said I wasn’t interested.” He was lying. While Shadow was aware of the Reunion show, the card wasn’t released yet. He’d been itching to find out who he was up against.
“Oh, really?” Her coy smile teased him. “I think this may change your mind.”
She tossed the folder to his chair. Shadow looked down at it and then back up at her. After a moment, he slowly lowered the shotgun. Bela let out a sigh and leaned against the doorframe behind her. As she watched Shadow reach down and pick up the folder she crossed her arms under her chest. He flipped through the pages and for the first time Shadow, took his eyes off the woman.
“Is this for real?” He asked, still reading. The information enclosed had Shadow hiding a smile.
“One hundred percent.” She walked a little closer, “We got a deal?”
Shadow never raised his head, sweaty oily blonde hair draped down. Shadow was silent, pondering.
“The question on everyone’s mind is what have the APW Megastars been up to since this place closed down.”
Shadow stands before the camera with his head tilted forward. His face is obscured by the curtain of blonde hair hanging down. The big man speaks in a sober, nostalgic tone.
“I guess you could say that after the final Rasslemania, I retired to a nice quite life of leisure. If you consider moving into a piece of shit trailer, on open-ass acre of land in the Texas hillside country, all by my lonesome a ‘nice quite life.’ You see, when APW shut down a bunch of people went to other federations, they continued their successful careers, continued to cash in the paychecks and bask in the light of stardom. Me, I live in the middle of nowhere with bugs crawling up my ass when I sleep. Some might say I faded into obscurity or that I was forgotten. And maybe I was, it’s been a long damn time. While I said the Rasslemania result didn’t matter to me; truth is I left that night with a broken heart. But who could have imagined. That the universe realigned and fate is offering me one more chance. One more chance...
With words Shadow looks up. He is wearing his classic black sunglasses, staring at the screen before flashing the Diamond Standard grin.
“...To beat the living fuck out of someone!” Holy shit folks, it has been awhile. Now don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t lying about being heartbroken. Having to pack my bag with the knowledge I wouldn’t work here again just straight tore me up inside. I mean I COULD have signed a contract with another organization. Believe me I thought about it. I just couldn’t do it. Call it pride, but having to listen to a bunch of peckerwood jackasses ramble on about how “They’ve never heard of me;” while at the same time telling me just how great the good old days were in some other federation. That shit pisses me off. So, does everyone remember how I saved a special shit kicking for those bitches that were too lazy to do a little research?”
Shadow strokes his chin for a moment.
“Sure you do, and that’s why I signed up to be on this show. Everyone who is anyone knows APW is the ONLY federation that matters. But more importantly, I’ve just been aching to whip some ass. Sure beats stewing in my own sweat in some hot ass Texas trailer. And if anyone out there thinks I might be a little rusty. Take my advice: go fuck yourselves. I am still the Usher of Darkness, the same man who ran the gauntlet against The Unforgiven and Aubrey J Parker. I am and will always be Shadow, the Texas Ass Kicker."
He pulls off his sunglasses. Shadow’s eyes are full of sincerity.
“And just so we are perfectly clear, I want to go on record and tell you I know exactly who I am dealing with in this match. First and foremost, there is Isamu Suzuki. I’m sorry dude, I wish I could say that it’s a privilege to take on someone like you but I can’t. It’d be a lie. I’ve watched several of your old matches, back when you captured the Suicidal Championship, or when you beat Donovan Caine. You were something, man. Then you went back to Japan. You became a senpai and trained your kohai. At least that was until the last Rasslemania show. And well we both know how that worked out for you. Isamu, you know what they say: those who can, do; and those who can’t, teach. So teach me something Isamu, I’m giving you one more chance at glory. All you have to do is beat me. Well me and one other person that is."
His expression turns to anger.
“Lord Raab. Oh you didn’t think I forgot about you, huh? It took me two years, Raab. Two years until I could finish what I started. It doesn’t matter you got out of prison, set up shop somewhere else and hid behind a mask. I always told you I would come for you, that there was NOTHING you could do to escape me. Now the only thing standing between you and your total annihilation is time, something that is slowly ticking away.”
A deviously dark and twisted smile curls across Shadow’s lips.
“Do you feel the pressure, Raab? Does it make you angry? Will you unleash that beast you keep locked inside? Come on, show me the monster that chumps like Mad Mump, Jace Savage, Zachary Blood or even Sentinel all claimed to be. I’ve been waiting too damn long to cram my foot down your throat. The fact that this match is elimination style makes it really fucking hard for me to decide who to plant first. Because it wouldn’t make since for the honorable and noble Isamu Suzuki to team with Raab, and we all know how I feel about that goofy looking, stupid ass Bavarian bitch. So, do I want to team up with Isamu and beat you like a red headed stepchild and have the glorious match with Suzuki that the crowd deserves or do I give you a shot against Isamu and maybe face ‘the monster,’ one on one?”
Quick pause as Shadow smirks.
"Rhetorical questions guys, it doesn’t matter who I take out first. Hell, I’ll pin you both at the same time if I feel like it. The real thing that has me pondering is the stipulation that our match requests we bring a weapon of choice and I’m left with bunch of options to select from. Do I go all noble and just use my huge freaking hands or maybe my oversized boots? Or do I take the famous chair that Aubrey J. Parker beat my ass with a bunch of times and pay it forward on you two unlucky chumps? Heck, just for shits and giggles, why do I just grab Mr. Dangerous and beat you both to death with him? Decisions, decisions.”
Shadow holds up his right hand for a moment turning the palm face up then face down before lowering both hands out of view. He crouches slightly as a rattling sound is heard while he stands upright.
“Actually, I think it’s time to introduce you two to what I call “The Chain of Command.”
He holds up a steel chain it’s about five foot long, draped across his arms. Shadow chuckles.
“You ever seen a coc(k) this big? We’ll guess what? I’m going to beat the fuck out you with it. This match isn’t going to be another Rasslemania. I do not deny that we ALL lost at Rasslemania. This time one of us will win. Mark my words, I am not going in there with any honorable intentions. I am here to fuck someone up, preferably Lord Raab. Lord knows you’ve had this coming for a really long time. And like I always say, and Isamu this goes for you too: you can be the baddest motherfucker on Earth and it won’t mean a damn thing. Not when you face me. I’m back baby and if the rumors are true I am here to stay!”
