Post by Takasu Kaoru on Aug 10, 2013 10:18:13 GMT -4
(NOTE: Pulled from the Vault of Phoenix Wrestling. Not for the faint of heart nor those who may be easily disgusted, but this reveals a lot of Takasu Kaoru. First two parts are CD while third part is the shoot itself.)
July 16, 2013
Undisclosed Location
The unmistakable sounds of men, women, and children crying for something to cease could be heard. Pleading for mercy even as a small note comes across your viewing screen to noting cameras were not permitted to enter the establishment, whatever that establishment is suppose to be. The crack of whips could be heard amongst that of something similar to that of the cane with a single and maniacal laughter echoing into the pleas for help. The laughter itself coming out as mirthless, sadistic, and relishing each little cry to the God for assistance. All too soon though a presence could be heard walking across a creaking wooden board and slowly open the door to letting light bath from the inside to the outside. That light framing the figure within the doorway whom wears only a pair of baggy pants and wooden sandals.
As the camera comes into focus the figure slowly also comes into being revealed as Takasu Kaoru who seems to be wearing an expression of disgust. Kihara Toshi is soon seen coming from another location upon the property wearing a sleek business suit and looking rather undisturbed at whatever is happening behind the closed doors. Takasu noticing his long time friend and giving a small shake of his head.
Takasu Kaoru: What is it about people from this Ash Bombay with his whole religious bit to everyday Americans believing there is a higher power that holds their fate outside their control? Do they even understand that no power is greater than the one you make for yourself?
Kihara Toshi: They are misguided, my old friend, but this is where you are to come in and correct all of them is it not?
Takasu took a moment to shake his head in even more disgust if such was possible with him glancing back over their shoulders towards the doorway he just came out of than slowly shifted his dead gaze upon Kihara.
Takasu Kaoru: Correct them? No, they are all beyond being saved, but instead they will serve a purpose regardless of how useless each and every person may seem to be. Yet even than a few may surprise us and prove to be worth becoming more down the road... This lot however won't even survive the initiation.
Kihara Toshi: Well listen you need to get this wrapped up and head to Vienna, Austria. That's where your next match is going to be against John Wayne Rockefeller and West McFadden with you teaming up with Stefan Raab. I know you would rather stay here than deal with the epiphany of scum that Phoenix Wrestling is tossing at you, but we have to keep our end. Really you should take your work with you and make things much easier on them.
Takasu Kaoru: Cancel my flight, there is something which I must take care of before going. I'll meet you at the arena in our predetermined location. Just make sure to have everything prepared and a new group ready.
Takasu turns from Kihara leaving his friend looking a bit confused, but offers no further explanations for his cryptic words. Kihara giving a sigh and shaking his head knowing better than to ask for further details as the cameras fade away to black.
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July 19, 2013
Tokyo, Japan
I slide out of the vehicle to taking in the sights and sounds of the busy street. It was just the end of the work day and knew my prey was going to be home, sure they wouldn't even expect my arrival for what reason did they believe that I should even be coming here of all places? Nothing they could think of within their miserable lives could ever comprehend my reasoning for coming here or even speaking to them after what they did to me. I hadn't even realized it when my feet had carried me to the door while looking with revulsion upon this place and turning the door handle to stepping into the doorway. The place still smells the fucking same like rotten cabbage and used tampons. What sort of suffering do they push upon others who come through here, locking them up into the basement with the rats as your only food source if you could capture them.
I flex my fingers at the memories pouring through my mind at the involuntary speaking of a basement within my own head. A slight shiver that was soon mastered and pushing my feet to carrying me up the stair way even as the sounds of laughter could be heard coming through the floorboards. I know it was all a farce for the fools that this country calls police and even the injustices I had to face made my blood boil even know. Many claim they understand me, claim they know what it was like growing up, but they just don't understand the differences. American arrogance at it's worse right there like that fool of Michael Jennings. I take a deep breath and try to avoid the pungent smell of rotten cabbage and dirty tampons to calming myself then releasing in a great breath. Knowing that I need to get this done before I can progress further with my plans. Even as my footfalls bring me to that final door with my hand lifting to knocking upon the door that I can hear the scraping of chairs upon the floor. Someone rising up to their feet and from the distinct sounds of the limp it is the one which I want to answer the door. Those locks and deadbolts being undone, paranoid old fools they all are and today even they would wish they had not answered the door.
Just as the door creaked open is when I struck much like a rapid animal to using my booted foot to swinging the door into the face of this old fool. The sound of cartilage breaking and the scream of a woman could be heard from another room. My eyes burn with hatred of all that this pathetic excuse for a man had done to me growing up. Father, yes that's what he made me call him growing up and than tossed me to the streets when they couldn't understand that I was already delved into the darker side of life. Gratification from the sufferings forced upon me, gratification at the sufferings of others. This is where I was born into what I would become today and those fools of Phoenix Wrestling will all tremble before me when they hear a whispering of my coming.
The man's foot upon the floor in desperate attempt to get away clips my leg although it feels more like a kid with a loose noodle hitting me that I give into the theatrics of things to pretend to stumble backwards. In the process deftly closing the door and blocking the only way out. I can hear that click upon the door which at one time meant only bad things coming (such as canings for being caught watching a wrestling match) and now those were going to be returned tenfold. The feeling of pleasure that always came before making others suffer coming over me even as the bloodied face of my father was being burned into my mind's eye.
“Hello... father. It has been so long since you tossed me out upon the street and where is that whore of a mother? She still sleeping around while you pretend everything is perfect? Don't think of trying to call out for help for your phone lines have been cut and the whispers of the fabled Sensei of Suffering are true. He was forged out of hatred of all that he relished from the diversity in subcultures that ranged from difference in lifestyles a block away. You however will be of use to me now and it's true what you're thinking. I have had help in setting this up, but they are not important nor is anyone going to miss you from work or that worthless piece of shit you call your wife.”
I can see the fear etched upon his face even as he stutters over his words in the vain attempt to tell my precious mother to save herself, but he can't even bring himself to give her the warning. No, fear has gripped him to cutting off his vocal chords from working properly. I can see hand rising up as I reach to the stand hiding that cane he had used all those times with a look of delight like a fat kid getting his favorite ice cream cake all to himself. The cane lifting up and the whooshing of the air being cut before bringing the cane smacking across the belly, cutting the fabric of his shirt from his body and leaving a reddening welt behind. I practically orgasm in my pants at the pleasure of making this fucking tool suffer for all those years ago. Yes this was going to be a great night even as the second cane echoed throughout the pitiful apartment. None would hear the cries of mercy and please of authorities to be called until they became less than a shell of themselves.
That pathetic woman even turned the corner at the sound of her small cocked husband crying out for help. My eyes lifting with hatred burning, the satisfaction of making him squirm beneath the third cane strike across his broken nose than a fourth to the groin causing him to curl into a fetal position while little out pathetic little mewls. Her face turns to one of disbelief, fear, horror, and finally reality sinks into her as she turned to make for the fire escape. I don't even bother to follow for her scream is answer enough to my knowledge that the way to it is barred along with the portion of the fire escape have been removed while they were at work. Now the tables have turned and they are at my mercy; all alone with me in this complex and nowhere to run.
Calmly I lean over to letting my fingers grasp within this man's hair and give a tug to pulling him towards the kitchen. I can feel him struggling in my grasp and even the hairs ripping, but I only tighten my hold and purposely drag him right into the wall as his feet flail about to his yell of pain as his own knee connected with the corner of the wall. I release my grasp as I laugh at his own stupidity of injuring himself. Him struggling to his feet and trying to scamper for the door, but a quick movement of my boot tripping him up. The fall was quite amusing as he shattered the glass end table with his scream of pain echoing throughout the apartment, hands rising up to try getting shards of glass from his face.
“This is for your own good, father. Trust me you will thank me one day just as I thank you for what you did to me growing up and don't worry if you behave than I won't send you to the basement.”
Even the mention of having to go to that basement if doesn't behave to my standards which we both know isn't going to happen had caused him to freeze with stricken horror. My laughter bouncing off the walls at the shaking of the man still clawing at the shards of glass in his face while I turn away from him to moving swiftly towards that whore. Swiftly I find she's attempted to barricade herself into her bedroom, but I only laugh at the mistake. It was sooner than I expected, but with the remote pulled from my pocket and a single button pressed upon would ensure her own pathetic fate. Not even before I’m able to turn away the sound of a blood curdling scream pierce into the night as the world takes on a blackness of despair which many find in those long hours of sufferings....
This is the world I was born into and grew into. Not that ideal fantasy of great parents who didn't just approve of my lifestyle choices. Not a rebelling son who walked away from his family to become something greater even though he had a decent life. No my life was altogether different from that of anyone else could comprehend, it was darkness, suffering, scratching for survival quite literally. Now it was their turn to either break or...
Who the fuck am I kidding? They won't be able to endure what I have in store for them, but will break and be reforged into the Disciples of Suffering that so many volunteer to attempt to do. They will be of use to me soon and I will repay my debt to those who helped make this happen where I can avoid consequences of such acts being done. Kihara will be able to breathe easy and soon I shall be in Vienna, Austria...
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July 23, 2013
Vienna, Austria
The scene opens to letting your viewing pleasure to that of two heavily disfigured, robed people standing obediently upon either side of Takasu Kaoru whom is seen wearing a druidism style robe that is black with a deep crimson bordering. The hood of the robe position just enough for even through the veil of his hair that painted face could be seen with his empty eyes staring forwards. Only lighting coming from that of the candles being held by those who could only described as his disciples.
“Redemption 56 shall bare witness to the arrival of the Sensei of Suffering. John Wayne Rockefeller and West McFadden you shall neither understand that which is coming upon either of you. Forget what you have witnessed of your past for even your arrogance won't allow you to comprehend that which has come to fruition after weeks of planning. Yet before we get on to speaking about either of you two there should perhaps be given a brief explanation of what has happened recently for those slower of minds to be able to understand anything which may or may not occur in my future.
A few days ago I paid a special visit to my family in which I forced them to break beneath the types of suffering that they forced me to endure. I don't grudge them for making me go through it for it has forged me into what I am today. No pain can be inflicted upon me that I won't find enjoyment in and return tenfold upon those who do it to me, just ask my disciples here. Of course don't expect an an answer anytime soon for they can't speak, but that is neither here or there. See those tools have discovered their purpose in life after a few lessons of tough love you could say. I know you all shall bleep about consequences, but it is something which none will come for even money can make those be ignored and those who I couldn't quiet than let's just say I have friends who silenced the others. Now we are all caught up and perhaps if you're wise enough to understand what I have spoken than you will be worthy enough to understand not to try getting more answers.
John Wayne Rockefeller... or known to the masses of fools as J-Dubya. What is it you will be able to contribute to this match this week? You couldn't last or be of value last time I was in the ring with you. Really what is left to be spoken about a man your skills that I didn't speak of last time? Not really much anything of relevance or value and thus really you are placed into this match simple as a filler. Perhaps after the match is done than you can go to the back and show your partner how to play gather the powder soap from the shower floor. That be about the only type of match you will be able to defeat anyone in and your partner just happens to be an idiot enough to think it is something that has to be done. American Horror you call yourself, but really the sight of Mister Rogers or Barney coming is more horrifying than you. You have no idea the meaning of horror and despite whatever you may think, will never understand that word for first you have to understand true suffering.
As for West McFadden, your night is going to go from bad to worse. Essentially this night will be something you will wish to forget, but like many things in life it will be etched into your mind's eye where even when you sleep it will haunt you as the night you wished you had not been in a match with myself. The man with a punch that could prove to be match defining, night defining, but how could you possibly rely upon solely that one moment? You have no true skills despite all the potential in the world. Waste is best how to describing a boy of your caliber in this man's sport. For your partner is a waste of man, a shell of a man and you are just a few steps behind him. True you eliminated me from the Battle Royal, but that isn't here nor is this even the same situation. We both find ourselves in a situation of not know our partner nor able to even to know if they shall work as a unit with yourself. Of course in your case that partner isn't even worth the effort of having him there and might as well make it a handicap match. The guy is ready to retire at a moment's notice while you're just entering the prime of your career.
Myself have a partner who is deadly and determined not to lose. Over all we have the mere edge of sheer force of willpower to not lose this match while you are working with only one good wheel and the trump card is that which won't be able to easily get off with a knock out punch. My partner and I have many means of disabling yourself from tagging in your partner or the other way around and even than we could toy with either of you to prolong the sufferings that will always conclude in the same, inevitable ending of Takasu Kaoru and Stefan Raab walking out the victors.
Beware for your sufferings will be revealed.”
July 16, 2013
Undisclosed Location
The unmistakable sounds of men, women, and children crying for something to cease could be heard. Pleading for mercy even as a small note comes across your viewing screen to noting cameras were not permitted to enter the establishment, whatever that establishment is suppose to be. The crack of whips could be heard amongst that of something similar to that of the cane with a single and maniacal laughter echoing into the pleas for help. The laughter itself coming out as mirthless, sadistic, and relishing each little cry to the God for assistance. All too soon though a presence could be heard walking across a creaking wooden board and slowly open the door to letting light bath from the inside to the outside. That light framing the figure within the doorway whom wears only a pair of baggy pants and wooden sandals.
As the camera comes into focus the figure slowly also comes into being revealed as Takasu Kaoru who seems to be wearing an expression of disgust. Kihara Toshi is soon seen coming from another location upon the property wearing a sleek business suit and looking rather undisturbed at whatever is happening behind the closed doors. Takasu noticing his long time friend and giving a small shake of his head.
Takasu Kaoru: What is it about people from this Ash Bombay with his whole religious bit to everyday Americans believing there is a higher power that holds their fate outside their control? Do they even understand that no power is greater than the one you make for yourself?
Kihara Toshi: They are misguided, my old friend, but this is where you are to come in and correct all of them is it not?
Takasu took a moment to shake his head in even more disgust if such was possible with him glancing back over their shoulders towards the doorway he just came out of than slowly shifted his dead gaze upon Kihara.
Takasu Kaoru: Correct them? No, they are all beyond being saved, but instead they will serve a purpose regardless of how useless each and every person may seem to be. Yet even than a few may surprise us and prove to be worth becoming more down the road... This lot however won't even survive the initiation.
Kihara Toshi: Well listen you need to get this wrapped up and head to Vienna, Austria. That's where your next match is going to be against John Wayne Rockefeller and West McFadden with you teaming up with Stefan Raab. I know you would rather stay here than deal with the epiphany of scum that Phoenix Wrestling is tossing at you, but we have to keep our end. Really you should take your work with you and make things much easier on them.
Takasu Kaoru: Cancel my flight, there is something which I must take care of before going. I'll meet you at the arena in our predetermined location. Just make sure to have everything prepared and a new group ready.
Takasu turns from Kihara leaving his friend looking a bit confused, but offers no further explanations for his cryptic words. Kihara giving a sigh and shaking his head knowing better than to ask for further details as the cameras fade away to black.
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July 19, 2013
Tokyo, Japan
I slide out of the vehicle to taking in the sights and sounds of the busy street. It was just the end of the work day and knew my prey was going to be home, sure they wouldn't even expect my arrival for what reason did they believe that I should even be coming here of all places? Nothing they could think of within their miserable lives could ever comprehend my reasoning for coming here or even speaking to them after what they did to me. I hadn't even realized it when my feet had carried me to the door while looking with revulsion upon this place and turning the door handle to stepping into the doorway. The place still smells the fucking same like rotten cabbage and used tampons. What sort of suffering do they push upon others who come through here, locking them up into the basement with the rats as your only food source if you could capture them.
I flex my fingers at the memories pouring through my mind at the involuntary speaking of a basement within my own head. A slight shiver that was soon mastered and pushing my feet to carrying me up the stair way even as the sounds of laughter could be heard coming through the floorboards. I know it was all a farce for the fools that this country calls police and even the injustices I had to face made my blood boil even know. Many claim they understand me, claim they know what it was like growing up, but they just don't understand the differences. American arrogance at it's worse right there like that fool of Michael Jennings. I take a deep breath and try to avoid the pungent smell of rotten cabbage and dirty tampons to calming myself then releasing in a great breath. Knowing that I need to get this done before I can progress further with my plans. Even as my footfalls bring me to that final door with my hand lifting to knocking upon the door that I can hear the scraping of chairs upon the floor. Someone rising up to their feet and from the distinct sounds of the limp it is the one which I want to answer the door. Those locks and deadbolts being undone, paranoid old fools they all are and today even they would wish they had not answered the door.
Just as the door creaked open is when I struck much like a rapid animal to using my booted foot to swinging the door into the face of this old fool. The sound of cartilage breaking and the scream of a woman could be heard from another room. My eyes burn with hatred of all that this pathetic excuse for a man had done to me growing up. Father, yes that's what he made me call him growing up and than tossed me to the streets when they couldn't understand that I was already delved into the darker side of life. Gratification from the sufferings forced upon me, gratification at the sufferings of others. This is where I was born into what I would become today and those fools of Phoenix Wrestling will all tremble before me when they hear a whispering of my coming.
The man's foot upon the floor in desperate attempt to get away clips my leg although it feels more like a kid with a loose noodle hitting me that I give into the theatrics of things to pretend to stumble backwards. In the process deftly closing the door and blocking the only way out. I can hear that click upon the door which at one time meant only bad things coming (such as canings for being caught watching a wrestling match) and now those were going to be returned tenfold. The feeling of pleasure that always came before making others suffer coming over me even as the bloodied face of my father was being burned into my mind's eye.
“Hello... father. It has been so long since you tossed me out upon the street and where is that whore of a mother? She still sleeping around while you pretend everything is perfect? Don't think of trying to call out for help for your phone lines have been cut and the whispers of the fabled Sensei of Suffering are true. He was forged out of hatred of all that he relished from the diversity in subcultures that ranged from difference in lifestyles a block away. You however will be of use to me now and it's true what you're thinking. I have had help in setting this up, but they are not important nor is anyone going to miss you from work or that worthless piece of shit you call your wife.”
I can see the fear etched upon his face even as he stutters over his words in the vain attempt to tell my precious mother to save herself, but he can't even bring himself to give her the warning. No, fear has gripped him to cutting off his vocal chords from working properly. I can see hand rising up as I reach to the stand hiding that cane he had used all those times with a look of delight like a fat kid getting his favorite ice cream cake all to himself. The cane lifting up and the whooshing of the air being cut before bringing the cane smacking across the belly, cutting the fabric of his shirt from his body and leaving a reddening welt behind. I practically orgasm in my pants at the pleasure of making this fucking tool suffer for all those years ago. Yes this was going to be a great night even as the second cane echoed throughout the pitiful apartment. None would hear the cries of mercy and please of authorities to be called until they became less than a shell of themselves.
That pathetic woman even turned the corner at the sound of her small cocked husband crying out for help. My eyes lifting with hatred burning, the satisfaction of making him squirm beneath the third cane strike across his broken nose than a fourth to the groin causing him to curl into a fetal position while little out pathetic little mewls. Her face turns to one of disbelief, fear, horror, and finally reality sinks into her as she turned to make for the fire escape. I don't even bother to follow for her scream is answer enough to my knowledge that the way to it is barred along with the portion of the fire escape have been removed while they were at work. Now the tables have turned and they are at my mercy; all alone with me in this complex and nowhere to run.
Calmly I lean over to letting my fingers grasp within this man's hair and give a tug to pulling him towards the kitchen. I can feel him struggling in my grasp and even the hairs ripping, but I only tighten my hold and purposely drag him right into the wall as his feet flail about to his yell of pain as his own knee connected with the corner of the wall. I release my grasp as I laugh at his own stupidity of injuring himself. Him struggling to his feet and trying to scamper for the door, but a quick movement of my boot tripping him up. The fall was quite amusing as he shattered the glass end table with his scream of pain echoing throughout the apartment, hands rising up to try getting shards of glass from his face.
“This is for your own good, father. Trust me you will thank me one day just as I thank you for what you did to me growing up and don't worry if you behave than I won't send you to the basement.”
Even the mention of having to go to that basement if doesn't behave to my standards which we both know isn't going to happen had caused him to freeze with stricken horror. My laughter bouncing off the walls at the shaking of the man still clawing at the shards of glass in his face while I turn away from him to moving swiftly towards that whore. Swiftly I find she's attempted to barricade herself into her bedroom, but I only laugh at the mistake. It was sooner than I expected, but with the remote pulled from my pocket and a single button pressed upon would ensure her own pathetic fate. Not even before I’m able to turn away the sound of a blood curdling scream pierce into the night as the world takes on a blackness of despair which many find in those long hours of sufferings....
This is the world I was born into and grew into. Not that ideal fantasy of great parents who didn't just approve of my lifestyle choices. Not a rebelling son who walked away from his family to become something greater even though he had a decent life. No my life was altogether different from that of anyone else could comprehend, it was darkness, suffering, scratching for survival quite literally. Now it was their turn to either break or...
Who the fuck am I kidding? They won't be able to endure what I have in store for them, but will break and be reforged into the Disciples of Suffering that so many volunteer to attempt to do. They will be of use to me soon and I will repay my debt to those who helped make this happen where I can avoid consequences of such acts being done. Kihara will be able to breathe easy and soon I shall be in Vienna, Austria...
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July 23, 2013
Vienna, Austria
The scene opens to letting your viewing pleasure to that of two heavily disfigured, robed people standing obediently upon either side of Takasu Kaoru whom is seen wearing a druidism style robe that is black with a deep crimson bordering. The hood of the robe position just enough for even through the veil of his hair that painted face could be seen with his empty eyes staring forwards. Only lighting coming from that of the candles being held by those who could only described as his disciples.
“Redemption 56 shall bare witness to the arrival of the Sensei of Suffering. John Wayne Rockefeller and West McFadden you shall neither understand that which is coming upon either of you. Forget what you have witnessed of your past for even your arrogance won't allow you to comprehend that which has come to fruition after weeks of planning. Yet before we get on to speaking about either of you two there should perhaps be given a brief explanation of what has happened recently for those slower of minds to be able to understand anything which may or may not occur in my future.
A few days ago I paid a special visit to my family in which I forced them to break beneath the types of suffering that they forced me to endure. I don't grudge them for making me go through it for it has forged me into what I am today. No pain can be inflicted upon me that I won't find enjoyment in and return tenfold upon those who do it to me, just ask my disciples here. Of course don't expect an an answer anytime soon for they can't speak, but that is neither here or there. See those tools have discovered their purpose in life after a few lessons of tough love you could say. I know you all shall bleep about consequences, but it is something which none will come for even money can make those be ignored and those who I couldn't quiet than let's just say I have friends who silenced the others. Now we are all caught up and perhaps if you're wise enough to understand what I have spoken than you will be worthy enough to understand not to try getting more answers.
John Wayne Rockefeller... or known to the masses of fools as J-Dubya. What is it you will be able to contribute to this match this week? You couldn't last or be of value last time I was in the ring with you. Really what is left to be spoken about a man your skills that I didn't speak of last time? Not really much anything of relevance or value and thus really you are placed into this match simple as a filler. Perhaps after the match is done than you can go to the back and show your partner how to play gather the powder soap from the shower floor. That be about the only type of match you will be able to defeat anyone in and your partner just happens to be an idiot enough to think it is something that has to be done. American Horror you call yourself, but really the sight of Mister Rogers or Barney coming is more horrifying than you. You have no idea the meaning of horror and despite whatever you may think, will never understand that word for first you have to understand true suffering.
As for West McFadden, your night is going to go from bad to worse. Essentially this night will be something you will wish to forget, but like many things in life it will be etched into your mind's eye where even when you sleep it will haunt you as the night you wished you had not been in a match with myself. The man with a punch that could prove to be match defining, night defining, but how could you possibly rely upon solely that one moment? You have no true skills despite all the potential in the world. Waste is best how to describing a boy of your caliber in this man's sport. For your partner is a waste of man, a shell of a man and you are just a few steps behind him. True you eliminated me from the Battle Royal, but that isn't here nor is this even the same situation. We both find ourselves in a situation of not know our partner nor able to even to know if they shall work as a unit with yourself. Of course in your case that partner isn't even worth the effort of having him there and might as well make it a handicap match. The guy is ready to retire at a moment's notice while you're just entering the prime of your career.
Myself have a partner who is deadly and determined not to lose. Over all we have the mere edge of sheer force of willpower to not lose this match while you are working with only one good wheel and the trump card is that which won't be able to easily get off with a knock out punch. My partner and I have many means of disabling yourself from tagging in your partner or the other way around and even than we could toy with either of you to prolong the sufferings that will always conclude in the same, inevitable ending of Takasu Kaoru and Stefan Raab walking out the victors.
Beware for your sufferings will be revealed.”
