Post by Slade "The Main Man" Craven on Aug 25, 2012 20:57:11 GMT -4
[glow=darkgreen,4,600]THE ROAD SO FAR[/glow]
The montage begins with Slade and Shadow trading blows in the Staples center locker room. The fight is brutal as no matter how hard Slade tries he just cannot stop Shadow. Shadow lifted Slade high in the air and send "The Main Man" Crashing to the ground. Craven crashed to the floor. Then Shadow woke up from his first dream in the cabin out in the woods. He rushed outside firing his gun wildly, Then he opened fired on the vampires at Luther's nest. Shadow was getting a taste for leaving things blood. He smiled in the cab on his way home from Staples Center after leaving and unconscious Craven lying in a puddle of his own blood in the locker room.
There is a quick flashback to several years ago at Slade house, the figure that stood over him. The fire behind the being glows brightly as windows and glass explode around them. Blood leaks from every orifice on Slade’s face; it mirrors how Shadow left him in that locker room. Craven struggles to stay awake after the fight. His eye is swollen shut. Then Slade passed out.
Since returning from hiatus Slade has had a tumultuous time, barely able to scrape by. People were casting him aside and forgetting he even existed. Slade was tired of being punished and being blamed for holding Shadow back. He was going to put an end to things once and for all. He was going to show the world why Slade Craven was "The Main Man."
Scenes from his few fleeting wins are shown. Slade defeats Chris Hart, then Mark Mania, and finally Biggs, his only wins since coming back. Slade had nothing left to lose. He had to go all the way, "The Main Man" had to do something otherwise he would be finished forever. Craven couldn't let that happen. Each of his opponents in the scamble match are shown. They are all as ruthless as Shadow. Slade stands alone under the light.
Craven drove back to Nebraska, to Vick's bar. He was meeting Miles for information. Miles was helping Slade track this thing. Craven intended to kill it. He had a knife, a cursed knife, that supposedly could do the job. Miles told Slade where all the signs were pointing too, then he gave Slade a list of ingredients and a sigil with a name. Slade knew how to summon this thing. He was going to bring the fight to his door.
As he laid there on the floor Craven finally woke up. Blood was caked around his mouth and inside his nose. Shadow was nowhere in sight. After what seemed like forever he pulled himself off the floor and every so slowly stumbled to the parking lot. It was late, the Staples Center was empty, Slade was alone. In the parking lot he found Shadow's Camaro. He was lucky Shadow hadn't found out Slade swiped the big man's car. Shadow might have finished the job.
Craven barely had the strength to get back to the house. Somehow, Slade managed to remain conscious long enough to drive from the Staples Center up to the house in the hills. It was where Slade was squatting. Despite the Camaro being Shadow’s car, Slade got used to driving her. The road trip up gave him plenty of time. He was driving on instinct now. As Slade turned the wheel into the abandoned neighborhood he realized that he was almost back to base. It troubled him that he blacked out the entire car ride. If you’ve ever watched a movie about a crime ridden Los Angeles you’ve seen the neighborhood. Hollywood used it when they filmed. During the off seasons homeless people loved to set up shop. Hollywood didn’t care hell everyone always bitched about authenticity anyway. Craven parked the Camaro in the driveway. If anyone was watching him, he looked drunk, but he wasn’t, even though he did fall to the concrete the second he opened the car door. Summoning all his remaining strength, Slade struggled to his feet and made his way into the house. Slade slammed the door behind him as he entered the dark void called a living room. Without a word or a cry for help, Craven collapsed. As he lay there, Slade could see through the living room window up into the clear night sky. All Slade could see before he finally passed out was a single star barely twinkling in the dark sky overhead. It was the only light left.
[glow=darkgreen,9,200]NOW...[/glow]
Craven awoke an hour or so before dawn. The floor of the abandoned house was not very comfortable. Couple that with the bruises he accrued last night and it was obvious, Slade was in no shape for that match at Shockwave. He barely even thought about it anymore. Slade felt sick. He crawled to the front door and pulled it open. Craven clutched his stomach as the vomit rose. He flung himself out the door and just over the edge of the porch. Puke spewed from his lips. He didn’t remember eating or drinking anything last night before or after getting his ass beat. It burned though; all acid.
“Url!” was all he could choke out as the searing pain scalded his mouth.
Slade hurried back inside. He crawled quickly to the cooler and flung his head into the ice water, no time to open anything. He shook his head and relaxed his mouth just letting the icy water wash it out. He closed his eyes and relaxed for a moment as the burning pain faded. Then, the freezing shock made his eyes snap open. Slade shot out of the cooler and took a back bump on the living room floor.
Slade gasped for breath as he looked around. The only light came through the open front door, shining down from the First Quarter Moon above. Slade remembered where he was.
“Shadow,” he muttered as everything came back to him.
His head hurt. Craven ran his fingers over his swollen face. He couldn’t imagine what he looked like. A stinging pain afflicted his heart. He felt his pride wounded. Picking himself off the floor and dusting himself off, Slade slowly walked back outside. The moon was beautiful; he wished it were a Full Moon though. No one was around, that didn’t trouble him. Slade solemnly strolled down the steps and stared up at the stars. Gazing up, he closed his eyes and prayed.
Dawn approached. This was not a beautiful one either. Slade stood inside the house packing up his belongings. He needed to be out before someone happened by. The place was pretty well abandoned this week; but why should he take the chance? Slade would come back later, after all. Everything was ready to go downstairs. Slade was going out to enjoy the day. He wanted to see the sunrise.
“What the hell?” He uttered upon seeing the thick fog blanketing the neighborhood.
Craven felt like he was swimming in a sea of cotton candy. He could barely see the car. The sky was red, blood red. That and the brisk morning air sent a chill up his spine. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure this out. As he reached the car, Craven simply said while staring at the eastern horizon.
“Red sky at dawning, Slade will take warning.”
He opened the passenger door and lugged his duffle bag in there. Then Slade went back inside and picked up the cooler. He dumped the cold and contaminated contents into his pile next to the porch. He hoped that washed everything away. He even left the two water bottles. They were soaking in puke residue: no thank you.
“Alright, that’s all we need,” Slade surmised while walking back to the car.
He tried to ignore the fog as he walked through it, but it was not easy. Everything around him, not just in the ring but all across the world, everything was slowly going to Hell. This was a foreboding kind of morning. It did not sit well with him. Nevertheless his stomach growled. Slade wanted to eat something, something delicious. He deserved a treat anyway.
“Wonder if I have time to drive down to Long Beach,” Slade asked himself. “Maybe stop by the Quality Café.”
He thought about the little diner that was in several movies. Slade wanted to live it up one more time. The engine roared to life as Craven cranked her up. The car blew away some of the fog. The white water vapor illuminated brightly when the headlights came back on. It nearly blinded Slade. He covered his eyes until the adjusted. Then he put the car in gear and backed out of the driveway. Slade pushed the petal down, making the engine drown out the growls his empty stomach gurgle. He was so hungry.
“Let’s see what’s playing.”
His fingers fumbled with the radio while he rolled down the street. Suddenly Bon Jovi’s Blaze of Glory was playing. It was starting the second chorus. Slade smiled and left the radio on that station. He couldn’t help but chuckle and nod. He liked Bon Jovi. The music spoke to him.
Outside, the Camaro’s driver side front wheel spun powerfully. It pulled the car forward and the Camaro cut through the fog. Headlights slicing a path for “The Main Man,” as he sang along with the song as it came back from the refrain.
“Each night I go to bed. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. No, I ain’t looking for forgiveness, but before I’m six foot deep, Lord I gotta ask a favor and I hope you’ll understand; cause I’ve lived life to the fullest: Let this boy die like a man. As I’m staring down the bullet, let me make my final stand. Shot down! In a Blaze of Glory! Take me out but know the truth. I’m going out in a blaze of glory…”
Outside the music harmony could be heard as the engine roared off toward that wildfire of a sunrise.
Slade stood in the diner washroom after washing his hands. He was still full, but better. Breakfast was delicious, Slade savored it. He ordered a nice light Texas breakfast: Country Fried Steak, eggs, hashbrowns and sausage links all smothered in gravy with a side of grits. He took over an hour to eat it. Slade read the newspaper while he ate and even left a thirty percent tip. As he walked out of the bathroom Slade could see the waitress smiling as she walked away from his table. It made Slade feel good to brighten someone’s day light that. He exited the “Quality Café” and headed for Shadow’s car. Slade saw a police car parked next to it, but he didn’t worry. There was no way Shadow knew Slade got the Camaro. Caleb was not a rat. When Slade got to the car he looked around. Even after such an ominous dawn, the morning turned out quite pleasant. Slade decided today he would take another drive up the Pacific Coast Highway. The last time he did, it wasn’t for pleasure. This time Slade wanted to enjoy it; roll down the windows crank up the radio and just drive. He smiled again. That was how Slade would spend his day.
Slade held the knife in his right hand. He slides the tip of the blade along his palm, wincing while he muttered several words in Latin.
“Nunc Arcesserus Amon!”
He finishes the incantation as he clenches his fist. A drop of blood trickles down and drips down into a small pestle full of some powder. Slade looks down and takes a deep breath then he strikes a match.
“Come and get me you son of a bitch.”
He drops the match and the powder begins to flare. Slade is in a basement, standing before a table that has a sigil drawn into the wood. Across the table are several candles and three specific items: a small black velvet bag containing something, the pestle and two crossed feathers making an “X.” Slade stands there waiting, clutching the knife in his right hand. There are several symbols carved on the blade. Craven waits. Nothing happens.
“Was is a bust?”
There is a crash upstairs. Slade looks at the floorboards above him and sees where the dust falls. He rushes up the staircase into the kitchen. Slade wields the knife as he turns into the living room. Then a black cat dives at Slade. Craven stops himself before stabbing. The cat bounds away. Slade lets out a sigh.
“Damn cat”
He looks back into the living room and sees that the cat didn’t knock anything over at all. Craven looked around the living room and couldn’t find anything. He looked in the bedroom, then the bathroom, still nothing. Finally Craven walked back toward the kitchen something flashed outside.
“Huh?” His eyes darted toward the window. There was another flash of light.
Slade approaches the sliding glass door. As opens the door the cat darts out with an angry “meow.”
There is another flash of light as Slade steps outside. He looks perplexed to see the lightning streaks across the sky. The storm appeared out of nowhere. Slade kept walking out across the yard. His fingers re-gripped the hilt. Slade looked off into the distance. The storm stretched for miles. Plasma bolts blasted from the heavens. Slade turned back to the house and saw the storm spanning off in the other direction. Suddenly from above something plummeted toward Slade.
“Jeez!” Slade hops back as he yelps.
He sees that it’s a bird, a seagull. It’s just lying there. Slade starts to walk toward it when another ball of feathers crashes to the earth. Then a third! A fourth hits Slade in the shoulder.
“Holy Hell!”
He looks up and sees that everywhere birds are falling from the sky. It looks like it’s sprinkling. Another bird nosedives into the dirt. Then coming from the west he sees it; a black spot and it’s getting bigger. Slade starts to run for the house. He holds the knife tightly as the birds continue to fall from the sky. Lightning continues flashing Slade keeps running. He looks back over his shoulder and sees the sun disappear behind the cloud. Everything gets a little darker. Then, another bird nails Slade, he nearly drops the knife. Craven catches it with his left hand then baseball slides into the house. He turns and grabs the door slamming it shut. The black cloud draws closer, growing as it does. Slade stares through the glass pane as the storm comes to him. Closer, closer until it consumes the view and everything goes black.
The cloud was gone. Slade looked around outside and did not see anything. He turned around, knife raised. Nothing was there. Slade glanced to the basement door. He saw the flickering light from the candles down below. He kept his footsteps silent and tried his best ninja impression. He peered down the staircase and cautiously crept down. Halfway down the steps Slade heard it.
“I’m trying to fathom exactly how stupid you really are.”
Slade heard the voice, even though he’d never heard it before, he knew who it was.
“What took you so long?”
Craven quit creeping, he looked to his right and there he was. The Trooper was still wearing the same clothing, the same meat suit. Slade summed up the challenger.
“You summon me here,” the Trooper took a step. “There are no Devil’s traps, no salt barriers. All you have is that little ring of yours, which only keeps me out of you. So I just have to ask...”
Craven put his hands behind his back before the knife was noticed. He folded his left hand over the blade. The smug son of a bitch wasn’t even looking in Slade’s direction. That thing was on the other side of the basement, separated from Slade by a set of shelves. The fiend rounded the structural beam that held up the ceiling and looked at Slade. He blinked, finally showing his real irises.
“You didn’t think you’d survive this, did you?” Blue Eyes said.
“I don’t really care anymore.”
Slade stepped forward. So did Blue Eyes.
“So why am I really here?” The creature asked.
“I want you to leave Steve alone.” Slade simply stated.
They took another step toward one another. Craven kept his mind blank. He knew it might be able to read him. Slade thought about the future, the match everything he had left in the world. He thought about the people and how much he loved them. He tried to inspire himself searching for that light in his soul one last time.
“Oh Moose?” Blue Eyes asked with a laugh. “Big guy likes to hit things? Why would I do that, and after he’s done so much for me already.”
Slade ignored the taunts as Blue Eyes rubs his hands together. They are getting closer, just a few more feet. He leans forward and finally answers.
“No. But I think I’m done with you though. It’s been real fun watching you chase rainbows like this, still enough is enough. You’ve run your course Craven; it’s time someone put you out to pasture. But don’t, worry I’ll take real good care of your friend. He won’t need me guiding him much longer anyway. I mean look at what he did to you. I didn’t help with that. But it looks like he’s not ready to finish the job. It won’t be long until he does though. Too bad you won’t get to see what he becomes. And no one is going to stop him either.”
Slade grit his teeth, his fingers clasped the grip. He kept his mind blank. He just needed one more step.
“You’re making the same mistake everyone else is.” Slade said, buying him that step.
“Oh? And what’s that?” Blue Eyes smiled.
“I always survive.” Craven grinned, brought the knife up going for the gut!
But right wrist Blue Eyes grabs Slade wrist, the tip of the knife pierces the skin and then Blue Eyes let out a howl of pain, drowning out the sound of searing sizzling flesh. He grabbed Slade by the shoulder with his left hand and threw “The Main Man” across the basement. Slade barely held onto the knife as his already bruised body crashed against the far wall. He crumpled to the floor. Blue Eyes grabbed his stomach in pain. He looks at the knife in Slade’s hand.
“Where did you get that?”
Craven grinned a bloody smile. Blue Eyes approached Slade in anger as Slade tried to pull himself up. He leaned against the wall he just met for support. He brought the knife up but Blue Eyes didn’t stop. He smacked the weapon from Slade hand with a growl and followed it up with a right hook to the jaw taking Slade back to the ground. Craven tried to get up again but another right drove him down again.
“You think this is game, you insignificant insect?” He walks over and picks up the knife.
The blade glistens as Blue Eyes admires it. Then he turns his angry gaze back to Slade. Craven was pulling himself up again. Blood oozed from his mouth as he smiled. The bruise on the side of his face swelled. Slade looked right into that thing’s eyes.
“I was going to put down quickly. But since you’ve pissed me off, I’m going to take my time.” Blue Eyes slowly approaches Slade. “I want to hear you scream.”
Still doubled over, Craven looked at the knife in the demon’s hand. With no other options left, “The Main Man” clenched his fist and lunged.
Los Angeles, California! How ya’ll doing tonight? That’s right! Slade Craven is here. And just like I swore before, you can put me on the block, you can cut me to ribbons but you can never put me down! I’m Slade Craven; apparently my opponents don’t know me. I mean they keep saying they have no idea who the hell I am and I guess that needs to change. So let’s do something about that tonight. I did not bust my ass in this business for ten years to be a fucking whipping boy. Im about to make each of ya’ll my bitch.
Mark Mania, you’re on recall. Totally. You seem to forget I put you in your place once before. Here let me help you jog your memory. You were laying on the ground in the middle of the ring while I had you locked into an STF as I synched in the hold. Then you started screaming. Like this: “AHHHHHHH!” But you would tap out. You had too much pride to do that. So I let go of the hold dragged your ass back to the center of the ring and put you into an anklelock. That made you tap didn’t it?
People like to forget traumatizing things. It time we delve into that subconscious of yours and bring up some of those repressed memories. Memories like you blowing your shot at the Overdrive title back in Sacramento. You couldn’t do it. Blame Terry Marvin all you want if you were really Overdrive Championship material you would have won that match long before Terry Marvin had the chance to interfere.
And that match just went on forever too. How bad is it when the champion gets so disgusted with the competition that he just walks out? Then, because you and Delikado both suck that much, neither one of yall could actually lose; Terry Marvin came out and ended the match. That’s probably the greatest thing that man has ever done, save us from your insufferable talentless ass. You suck so bad, he chose Delikado over you. That’s like being picked to play kickball after retarded kid.
And to my one mentally challenged fan; who was sticking up for me at the anti-Delikado rally, I’m “The Main Man” and I apologize for comparing that testicular tumor to any kind of human being. Delikado sick freak, you know covering people in bees can get you sent to Hell? I bet you’ll look like Little Nicky after I smack you in the face with a shovel. What’s that going to do in a match like this? Get me disqualified? Can’t lose the belt that way. I’m going to pay you back for doing that to a member of the CraveNation. Speaking of “back,” how the hell have we not deported you back to whatever communist island you come from? Oh wait, I forgot due to Perry v. Schwarzenegger same sex marriage is recognized in California. That makes a lot of sense. But what are you going to do when your boyfriend isn’t there to save you ass tonight? Yeah we know you’re the bitch. Terry Marvin rescued you twice, once from Mark Mania then again from C.J. Gates and how did you repay him? You let Chris Hart pin you husband.
And that’s why you’re nothing more than a paper champion. You don’t want that belt like I do. You only want to keep it because it pisses people off to see you with the belt. You love pissing people off, only you deserve happiness. Everyone should love Delikado. You fairy. I’ve met blondes that were smarter than you. But you don’t piss me off, you disgust me. The only way you will piss me off is if you’re not breathing through a tube at the end of this match.
Who else is left in this free for all? Keaton Saint? We watched him choke on a title shot recently too. Some Paragon, sure I’ll admit he got the better of me, and for that I owe America an apology. I am so sorry I let some British chick beat me. I know I have forsaken the names of our forefathers and brought shame upon my house. When was the last time the British beat us in anything that matters? Yeah that’s right SOCCER doesn’t matter! It’s FOOTBALL season bitch! That’s right! You know what “The Main Man” loves to watch? The XFL. It is so awesome that shit is still running. Keaton, you backward ass evolutionary mistake of a human being, I’m going to show you why America always does everything better than Britain. Look at my smile! Hah!
Saint I want this win more and these people need this more than you could ever understand. And what’s worse is you know you’d make a piss poor champion. You don’t carry yourself like a champion and you speak in nonsense. Half the time I don’t know whether to nod or be offended. Hell with you, Delikado and that stupid ass hick North Dakota cowboy it’s going to be like trying to translate the dialogue in the Expendables. Nevertheless, the audience will have their man-gasm when “The Main Man” walks out Overdrive champion.
Gates you’re still the worst of them all. You haven’t been able to grasp a championship since Rasslemania. Every time you’re given the opportunity you just let it slip through your fingers: twice to Nobel, then you couldn’t win the tag titles, then you lost your first shot at the Overdrive title. So why should I give a damn about anything you can say? You still owe me a thank you for coming down and saving your flabby ass when you fumbled to Delikado last time.
And you will thank me after this match. After I’m done showing you what a real champion is I’ll swing by the Gates’ family cemetery, salt and burn your relatives. That way they won’t both you anymore. You’re welcome. I still don’t think you’re going to thank me though. I’m probably not on your radar. That’s okay. I’ll make sure you see me. Just ask Level One and Johnny Rebel I’m really good at pissing assholes off. And you sir, are an asshole if I ever saw one. If you want to ignore “The Main Man,” go right ahead. I’ll walk out of Shockwave with the belt and just like last time you wound up in bed with Elle, you won’t know what happened.
Gates you want this belt but you don’t deserve it. It’s why you can’t win a title. You’re a bigger sham than these other guys. I honestly believe Mark Mania standing in a phone booth for an hour and a half would be more interesting to watch than you as a champion. You can’t live up to the family name can you? You people talk about how I let my friends down, but I never do. I go above and beyond for these people and they love me for it!
Slade Craven doesn’t let anyone down, not in the long run. Because, in my darkest hour when everything looks grim, I will dig deep and find that one shining example of virtue to overcome the obstacles that lay before me. That’s what this match is to me C.J. Gates, that’s why “The Main Man” will outlast all of you and become the new Overdrive champion.
I promise all of you I would save you from yourselves. I will keep my promise, but because I had to listen to you assholes speak last week on Overdrive. I’m adding that addendum to each one. Sick as it may be, I still plan to make a human centipede out of you guys. Why? Because I think that’s what the people want to see. Let me ask you something, Los Angeles, California do you want that?!!!
That’s what I thought! Slade says this. Tonight “The Main Man” will participate in his first ever Championship Scramble and he will win. Slade Craven will not go out like a bitch. I’m better than that. This isn’t Pride talking. Pride would be claiming that belt because I deserve it. No this is still a confession. I know I’m better than the losses I’ve suffered to Saint and Gates in the past. I’ve never lost to Mark Mania. As for Delikado, everyone is better than that double dealing insane insomniac. Everyone except C.J. Gates. Gates just keeps trying to fight who he really is, a hypocrite. Delikado at least embraces his inner asshole. Still, Delikado cannot walk out of this match the Overdrive Champion. The things that man does are grounds for committal. If we let a psychopath like that continue reign, we might as well throw out the 22nd Amendment and reelect George W. Bush, only this time we’ll make Palin his VP.
Delikado having to listen to that prepubescent sodomized Cuban boy voice of yours has taught me one thing: God made a mistake with you. I mean there is always that one frog that’s born with three legs, one eye and a really short tongue. I’m sure you envy that frog, Simple Jack. Pop quiz retard, what’s something Delikado has never earned but he thinks is his? Trick question, everything. Bonus point, whose going to outlast everyone else in this match and emerge the new APW Overdrive champion? Let’s ask the crowd!!
Me? I’m pulling myself from the swamp and I’m washing myself off. Slade starts anew tonight. If I don’t what’s left for me? That’s why I am going to win. I will not submit, I shall rise, I shall conquer! My name is Slade Craven and I have seen evil (Delikado), I have seen ugly (Keaton Saint ) and yes I have seen those stupid little rejects that call themselves heroes (Mania and Gates). I will seize my destiny and prove why I am in this match. And if anyone on the back doesn’t like that Slade Craven is here to fight, well you can just get in line. Then when I finally pull your number you can step on up and I will make you Rue the Day you messed with ole Slade!
