Post by Level-Two on Nov 24, 2008 21:33:28 GMT -4
‘’One’s’’ Written Vows
The silent hero?
The man barely spoke, barely said a word, hell I even look back to that day when I first met him; locked up like an animal in a small room with little or no food to eat, and I feel privileged that he actually spoke a single word to me. The man had problems, problems brought onto him by another human, flesh, and bones. And if that wasn’t worse, he believed he was a monster and that he was the root cause of all his problems. Why? It’s real simple. They told him he was.
Deep down, I still hold an inch of regret for the condition my friend was held in. Years ago I fought for Dr. Chan’s fight club the same one that had imprisoned Jacob. Jacob had a lot of money riding on him and I beat him in a fight. This is turn didn’t make Dr. Chan any bit happy, so he locked Jacob away. He called it house arrest. They beat and tortured Jacob every day, for every penny he had lost them. And when they were done beating him, they made him fight again…fight against me.
The fight wouldn’t last too long; the cops got a bite on the action which quickly spread through the crowd, which soon made a run for it fearing prosecution in a court of law. Dr. Chan would try to kill us both; he vowed to do anything to make sure I wouldn’t fight the biggest match I’ve been involved in to date. Level-One Vs. Shadow Man, at EWC’s strangle mania. And with a bullet coated with Dr. Chan’s blood, the night would happen; despite his best wishes.
I promised Jacob that he would never have to fight another day again. The man was sick of fighting, and could I blame him? I think deep down he wanted me too stop too. A conversation I had with him before he went to jail he told me that I could accomplish much more out side of the ring, that I could within it. I don’t know what he meant by that wrestling seems like that’s all I have anymore.
…nothing but my word. I promised he would never fight again, and a few weeks later I made an insurance policy on that statement.
Burning for freedom
The air was crisp and cold, leaving a tingling sensation in my spine as I crept up the hill engaging in a battle against mother natures very own wind patterns. The night was silent, but even I knew by the end of it chaos would ensue. The only thing stopping me was a silver fence and police tape warning me of caution, but that wasn’t enough to keep from ascending over the fence and towards the old fight club.
I picked up my pace fearing being caught by a glance of an eye nearby. The last thing I wanted is to be fingered out as the man who was at the seen of a crime. And the last thing I wanted to do is to hurt a simple witness to ensure that didn’t happen. The bottle of kerosene, and the matches in my pockets was already a big enough distraction to deal with.
The closer to the building I approached the clearer the memory had become. The blood thirsty chants. The blood lusting cheers. The broken bones, the cries of pain, it all came back to me ringing in my head with no remorse. I knew it wasn’t real. It was just my mind playing tricks on me, but then through the silent of the night I heard and echo…
‘’I’ll get it, Timmy!’’
Before I knew it I was on the cold, hard unforgiving concrete—my eyes peeled open in shock. Did someone see me? Who was that? Where did the voice come from? I quickly lifted the bottle of Kerosene, picked myself off the ground, and ran towards the fight club back door, and didn’t turn back. Not even for a second.
I squeezed my head through the small door getting an inside look before I walked in, nobody seemed to be here. Fuck, nobody was here! I shouted it out loud, as If I was a mad man of some sort. But hell nobody could hear me! I shouted it again. How crazy was that? To believe someone was here? Nobody would’ve even seen me. Who would be out here at this time of night? I took a deep breath, before untwisting the cap that held this dangerous product within the bottle—A product of mass destruction. My revenge. My high.
I walked into the room. It made me sick to my stomach. Flesh it could still be seen on the walls. The smell made my head weak, my stomach battled with the contents I had eaten earlier in the day. A slice of pizza. And now I wouldn’t have eaten in days; I knew it. The chain in which Jacob was bound by laid in a corner attached to the wall.
The floor, it was dirty. The floor was the foundation. The foundation of the fight club, and everything that was wrong with it. It was the floor Dr. Chan stood on, while he beat the living shit out of Jacob with no remorse. This was the floor Jacob slept on; even dogs have beds in the corner of fancy homes. This is where I would start.
I dumped the kerosene onto the floor, the dirt mixing with the flammable fluid. The anger flared through me, no matches needed for that. I shouted, I cursed, I mumbled damn near incoherently. It only took me a few seconds before I had covered the entire room with kerosene. With-out thinking, I reached into my jackets pocket, pulling out a match box. I removed the lid, lifted up my foot before rubbing the match against it, setting the tip on fire.
The fire soft and calm, ready to do no harm. I stared at it. I saw something. Not the flame or anything of the sort. But instead? I saw the ring. The ring I used to fight in. With it’s little boxed in cage, and the seats that surrounded it…
Before I knew it, I had dumped the liquid all over the fight club arena too. Every last inch of the bleachers. Every inch of the ring, this would soon serve as a cage of raging, unforgiving fire. I would burn this fight club down and everything within it. Too man injustices have been fought here…
The innocent has always ended up paying.
I lit up a second match. This time its flame moved left to right rapidly as if it called to me. Once again I lifted the flame to my eyes, as I watched it sway helplessly back and forth. It knew what was coming. I was going to burn this place to the ground, nothing more than dust and ashes. Nobody would ever return here. Nobody would ever suffer again. This place would never see its light and day, and will never shaft someone in the corner of darkness. I looked at the flame one last time…I smiled.
The flames spread quickly, just like I had imagined in my eyes moments before. I didn’t run, nor did I think about any escape plans. I was too amazed in what I had done. I slowly backed away as the flames crept closer to me. I walked back, the whole way I walked back.
The dirt, the memories, everything about this place was disappearing before my eyes—the flames suffocating it with no emotion. Before I knew it, I was out side. The entire building was lit on flames, as it spilled through the windows of the fight club. In the back round I could hear police sirens. The word of my action had spread faster than the flames did; the irony.
I took one last glance, before turning my back towards the burning fight club. I regretted nothing…every inch I prayed would burn. And in the end? It did to my knowledge. I crept back through the night, and didn’t turn around.
However something, something tingled in my spine, sharp and unforgiving.
And it wasn’t the cold.
Present Day:
The blue ball
A change. It was Jacobs’s recommendation, and so I took it into account and ventured out-side of the wrestling business. And besides; I knew I couldn’t wrestle forever and this would serve as a good solid thing to fall back on to pull in some venue, although I wasn’t in it for the money.
A wrestling community center. I had developed plans on the side to build one. It would be positive thing around this neighborhood. I hadn’t come up with a name, or even a big vision—but I had scheduled with a few building companies around the city. It was time to give back to the community Dr. Chan and his goons had taken so much away from.
‘’Sir?’’ A lady called out to me. She wore a long formal dress, and had her hair tied back in a bun, she held a stack of papers tightly to her chest. ‘’Are you ready to see the property?’’
I didn’t answer verbally; I had just returned a slight nod. We both stepped into a car, which drove us up a hill and drove us up to the site. It was it. The exact same spot, the exact same burnt down wreckage I had caused months ago. ‘’A fire someone had started one, and burnt this place down’’ She said I looked at her, trying to hide the guilt.
‘’Yeah?’’ I quickly blurted out. ‘’Do you happen to know what was built here before it burnt down? I mean, a crack house or something…’’
She looked at me her body language telling me she was confused with an eye brow cocked up in the air. ‘’No, I don’t know to be honest. That’s the thing about this place. Nobody ever seemed to know it existed until it burnt down. They never had a license to build it to begin with’’
It made sense. Dr. Chan had paid the government off under the terms they didn’t even acknowledge the place existed. Knowing that though the more justified I felt doing in what I had done. ‘’Want to check it out?’’ She asked me, as I returned a quick nod. As I walked I pulled out my pen and paper, and continued to write.
I’ve been writing this thing for way to long now, it’s about time I wrapped it up. I don’t know what Jacob thinks of me. I don’t know how he’s doing in jail, or when he’s going to get out now. But if I could tell him one thing, it would be that I tried. Jacob…
Hell Jacob, I’m trying right now. I’ve lost your key to freedom, but it doesn’t mean I can’t find it. All I need is a month, hang in there for one more month, and I’ll have you out. You’ve fought many injustices in your life. You’ve been kidnapped and tortured, it makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about it. But one thing you can count on is that you’ll never have to return.
The fight club, Jacob I destroyed it. Burnt down to the ground. Nobody can come in and use it anymore, unless they plan on sorting through the scrap to do so. The memories, your pain, everything you hated existed in that place—and now it’s gone. It won’t fix everything, but maybe it’ll fix something.
Jacob, I have a match this weekend. I know this isn’t what you want to hear. You hate fighting. But this guy, this man he is no different from Dr. Chan. He captures, holds people against there will, and viciously assaults them—and tries to justify it as enlightenment. Jacob, I’m sure somewhere in Dr. Chan’s twisted mine doing what he did do you was justifiable, but it isn’t. And Link will pay in blood.
Jacob, lastly I just want to say…
Justice; will be served.
‘’Sir?’’ The lady called out. Taking my eyes away from my paper I looked up at her. She had a disappointed look on her face, as she held a cell phone to her ear. ‘’I’m sorry but I have some bad news’’ She broke to me. Confused I marched up to her.
‘’What do you mean there's bad news?’’ I questioned her. She sighed, before shaking her head back and forth helplessly.
‘’A man by the name Brian has just purchased this exact same lot minutes before you did’’ She tucked her phone in her pocket before putting her hand on my shoulder. ‘’If you are still interested we can take a look at some other pieces of land?’’
I looked at her feeling beaten, confused, and lost. ‘’No, I think I’m fine for today. I’ll give you a call if I need any help’’ She said something afterwards, but I paid her no mind and simply kept walking. I walked closer onto the lot, the fight club was still in pieces, burnt to the crisp. Frustrated I kicked at the remains of the fight club, a large piece of the roof was no match for me as it flew high in the air. Underneath it though, something rolled out from under the rebel…
I reached over and picked it up. A blue ball. Examining it further the words ‘’Timmy’’ was written in black marker across it.
Suddenly a sharp pain shot through my side dropping me to my knees with no remorse. My pad of paper dropping amongst the wreckage. The ball in my other hand rolling away and onto a large green pasture of grass. I looked up at the sky, and the sun stared back at me.
…It wasn’t the cold.
--
Link me to this vow
You hit me from behind, because you fear looking into my face. You kidnap others, torture, beat them, and hold them against their will—because you fear the power of freedom. Little boy, you talk and you talk, but you haven’t even moved forward towards getting your feet wet. Well, here it is. I’m looking into your eyes, no boundaries can withhold me from my freedom, and I’ve walked long before I’ve ever crawled.
Little boy, Little boy…continue to run your mouth. The whole world is watching, you’ve gotten the attention you’ve craved for so long. And look, you didn’t have to kid nap a single soul to do so. This is because you’ve been given your chance. The devil has signed away your good will, well being, and physical health all for this moment. The moment where you can take your shot at the big bad machine, where you can get rid of your worse nightmare, the destroyer of your day.
The pressure is on, you feel the sweat building. It’s been in formation for weeks now. The adrenaline is pumping up, the fans are stomping their feet and beating any guard rail they can. The stage is set. You’ll walk down it. You’ll try to hide your fear, and you may even fool yourself for a few seconds…
The fans will be watching, and listening observing closely. The moment you’ve waited for so long? It will flash before your eyes. And while you’ve allowed your mouth to run dry on the subject of this enlightenment you so dearly speak of; it’ll be shoved down your throat, for the entire world to watch. Your moans, your cries for help—the same world you craved for? They’ll watch, and they’ll smile. Their ears will be drained out with your screams, pleas, and mercy calls for help.
And they won’t listen. Who do you turn to now, little boy? Your eyes barely open, you feel yourself slipping away. You look up, you see my face. The big bad machine. Your nightmare. The destroyer of your day. Little boy, you don’t want to die. You aren’t ready to go. You will claw at me feet. Through your dry mouth you will call for my help. You will stare into my eyes and beg for MY enlightenment. And do you know what I do, little boy?
I reach down and put you out of your misery once and for all. For no enlighten can provide light to your dark soul.
Signed,
The big bad machine, your nightmare, the destroyer of your day. Little boy, riddle me this…
What’s my name?
''Enlightenment? Save it for your darker days to come''
You know what? To hell with the fancy introductions, fuck the spot lights, fuck setting the grand stage for November Reign. You see, if I had brought those three things to his little promotion of ours—it might actually deem this match of any importance, it might give your ego a little boost which you simply do not deserve.
Link, you do not deserve this match with me. For the past three weeks the world has simply gawked at your ploy for attention. Is Dr. Matt too busy with more important matters? Is Hurricane Jeff gone bored of your idle threats? And what’s all this talk about saving the APW? Connor was already fired a week ago, FYI. So here I am, sitting, thinking about where this thing between me and you began?
Oh, wait I got it. Your problems date way back. Back to when you were breaking your molar teeth on subject matters that surpassed your pay grade. I mean how many times were you choked out, beat up, and made out to be a big flop against Moses Lake? And how much of a coincidence was it when you tried and FAILED to end the cancer in the EWC that was Shadow Man, only for me to emerge and do what you simply couldn’t?
You look back to the EWC and you see what I had accomplished and it’s made you envious. You see while you had to indulge in lame kidnappings, cryptic videos, and death threats to get over, all I ever had to do is show up to the arena to draw more heat then you. I got all the attention. And unlike you, Link? I won world titles. It doesn’t take a crystal ball of a low grade physic to see that my career shining doesn’t sit well with yours which remains in a cold-dark isolated corner.
And maybe this is where your hate is all coming from? You see this happening all over again. You’ve set your eyes on the world championship, and now I am here. You see me as a threat, and hell that’s fine. It’s not hard to see you’re already back peddling on your motives for a safe bet. I mean, we all know the Overdrive or ‘’FTW’’ championship as you put it, is where your head is really at. That’s what you’ve been after all along…well…since two weeks ago, when you practically handed the title.
The truth Link there isn’t a person on this roster that doesn’t want to hold the APW world title. Well, with the exception of John Green. Furthermore it’s only because he fears any responsibility, and hasn’t won a match in almost what? A year? But fuck, you’d be lying if you’d claim you wouldn’t jump like a little bitch with a treat hanging over his head when it came to the world title. Now sit pretty while I smack you on the snout for rolling in your own shit. That title you currently wield is worth nothing, fool.
I mean let’s open our eyes and decode the situation. Level-One vs. Link and it’s NOT for the overdrive title? I think it spells it our right there, my little pale friend. What that is spelling out you illiterate fuck, is that everyone and their mothers knows I will beat you come November Reign, and that the management doesn’t want me bogged down with that piece of light weight metal by the end of the night. I mean, what’s the point of vacating it in another month when I beat whoever happens to be APW world champion?
Link, don’t you for one second insult my intelligence or my talent for that matter. Over the past few weeks you’ve been running your mouth, making idle threats, and pulling sneak attacks that I could have pulled off much more effectively myself. It seems like you and everyone else here, is not getting the translation? They do not know what exactly they have in-front of their faces. Well they are in for a treat now, aren’t they? The truth is I haven’t even exercised my full potential on a full scale just yet. Hurricane Jeff knows this full well. Link, you simply have not been paying enough attention, but don’t worry—your blood will surely make up for it come Sunday.
And the truth is, is that I haven’t been giving the opportunity to take the entire world by storm in the APW just yet. I mean, I’m a main-eventer. I’m a legend in the making. You can go to any federation in the world look up and down their roster, and never find anyone with the talent I have. What dark corner off the face of the planet did you come from to make any claims otherwise? Imagine being me, and having to wake up to fight guys like you? I didn’t even have the privilege to open up the show, and to set the tone. Instead we get the bathroom piss and pop corn slot on the card. Link, you’re holding me back.
And now what? I have to walk down to the ring, in a match that was placed second on a pay-per-view card to beat your face in? And for what? What the fuck do I have to prove that I haven’t proved already? If I was to get a title shot today, right now, as of this moment, I’d beat Sabur 1-2-3 no questions asked. I guess, it does make sense as to why they won’t let me aim at him, doesn’t it?
The truth is Link, they don’t want one of us—a former EWC’er to show the rest of the home grown roster up. Call in Amy Rosen, BDC, Moses Lake, James Chambers and hell even Kid Cannabis and they would all make Sabur their very own platform towards the APW world title. As much as you despise Jeff it makes me wonder if you are in with him all along.
And so Que the distraction. Fuck, Link. That’s all you’ve ever been in this business. You aren’t after providing people with ‘’enlightenment’’ unless it’s to blind them from achieving greater things than you have accomplished yourself. Much like you did when you leeched off the balls of Hurricane Jeff, BDC and the rest of Retribution Inc in the EWC, much like you wormed your way into Shadow Man’s life and much like you constricted Moses Lake’s movement by strapping him down into a chair. Link, that’s all you really are. A link onto someone else. A blood sucking parasite. Link…
…You’re a fucking maggot under my boot.
As for your enlightenment? Hold it tight, Link. Because when I’m done and through with you, you’ll be nothing but a lost man who can’t turn to anything but an empty bottle. And trust me. When the night is all said and done, and I prove to you that you are nothing more that a pale, pathetic, feeble minded man? You’ll need that enlightenment to light up your tomorrow. To turn your whole world of failure into something positive and maybe…just maybe out of it can result in some success.
Link, you aren’t a savoir. Your distorted look at the world around you, is leading you to nothing more than burning bridges you cannot cross with-out being burnt. Besides this wrestling career what more, if anything do you have? Nothing, Link. I too have lost it all, and this is all I have. But Link, what I have is secure. I know that every-time I step into the ring, I will deliver. And on my best nights? I simply cannot be beaten. I never stop improving. I’m never on the decline. Fuck, Jeff can throw you in my way until I break every bone in your body and render your not only mentally, but physically useless—I will prove my point time after time.
I however cannot deny this. A huge part of me wishes I was in the main-event. I know I deserve it, but it’s funny how life works. I must deal with you, and Dr. Phate get’s his free shot—and poorly executed miss at Sabur. But with you Link? You become another name on my resume. Another piece of evidence I must put forward, in which I will eventually will use to plead my case.
And justice? It’ll prevail.
There’s always a good side to everything. With that said, it’s hard finding anything good with you. You have all this enlightenment to offer everyone you come in contact, yet you seem to have none yourself. You are lost. You’re the one who needs help finding your way. Allow me to help you. Allow me to pack your bags, and direct you out of my fucking ring this Sunday. Link, you aren’t welcome.
As much as I feel like just not showing up, and cashing in on a few hours of extra sleep, that is never how I conduct business. Link, I’m not coming to the arena to show you up, or out wrestle you. I will show up for a fight. This thing between us? It’s more than some friendly competition. You’ve questioned my talent, you’ve made your false claims, and you’ve tried way too hard to gain my attention for me to now simply turn around and ignore it.
November Rein will not match my fucking storm. Save yourself the embarrassment, fool. Your enlightenment will not serve as your umbrella tonight. For every drop of rain my storm brings, it will represent one of your many failures. After time the memories will be too much to handle. You will succumb to my power and fall because of your own weakness. Link the whole world will watch as you will drown face down in your own failure.
Link, prepare yourself…the impact will follow.
The man barely spoke, barely said a word, hell I even look back to that day when I first met him; locked up like an animal in a small room with little or no food to eat, and I feel privileged that he actually spoke a single word to me. The man had problems, problems brought onto him by another human, flesh, and bones. And if that wasn’t worse, he believed he was a monster and that he was the root cause of all his problems. Why? It’s real simple. They told him he was.
Deep down, I still hold an inch of regret for the condition my friend was held in. Years ago I fought for Dr. Chan’s fight club the same one that had imprisoned Jacob. Jacob had a lot of money riding on him and I beat him in a fight. This is turn didn’t make Dr. Chan any bit happy, so he locked Jacob away. He called it house arrest. They beat and tortured Jacob every day, for every penny he had lost them. And when they were done beating him, they made him fight again…fight against me.
The fight wouldn’t last too long; the cops got a bite on the action which quickly spread through the crowd, which soon made a run for it fearing prosecution in a court of law. Dr. Chan would try to kill us both; he vowed to do anything to make sure I wouldn’t fight the biggest match I’ve been involved in to date. Level-One Vs. Shadow Man, at EWC’s strangle mania. And with a bullet coated with Dr. Chan’s blood, the night would happen; despite his best wishes.
I promised Jacob that he would never have to fight another day again. The man was sick of fighting, and could I blame him? I think deep down he wanted me too stop too. A conversation I had with him before he went to jail he told me that I could accomplish much more out side of the ring, that I could within it. I don’t know what he meant by that wrestling seems like that’s all I have anymore.
…nothing but my word. I promised he would never fight again, and a few weeks later I made an insurance policy on that statement.
Burning for freedom
The air was crisp and cold, leaving a tingling sensation in my spine as I crept up the hill engaging in a battle against mother natures very own wind patterns. The night was silent, but even I knew by the end of it chaos would ensue. The only thing stopping me was a silver fence and police tape warning me of caution, but that wasn’t enough to keep from ascending over the fence and towards the old fight club.
I picked up my pace fearing being caught by a glance of an eye nearby. The last thing I wanted is to be fingered out as the man who was at the seen of a crime. And the last thing I wanted to do is to hurt a simple witness to ensure that didn’t happen. The bottle of kerosene, and the matches in my pockets was already a big enough distraction to deal with.
The closer to the building I approached the clearer the memory had become. The blood thirsty chants. The blood lusting cheers. The broken bones, the cries of pain, it all came back to me ringing in my head with no remorse. I knew it wasn’t real. It was just my mind playing tricks on me, but then through the silent of the night I heard and echo…
‘’I’ll get it, Timmy!’’
Before I knew it I was on the cold, hard unforgiving concrete—my eyes peeled open in shock. Did someone see me? Who was that? Where did the voice come from? I quickly lifted the bottle of Kerosene, picked myself off the ground, and ran towards the fight club back door, and didn’t turn back. Not even for a second.
I squeezed my head through the small door getting an inside look before I walked in, nobody seemed to be here. Fuck, nobody was here! I shouted it out loud, as If I was a mad man of some sort. But hell nobody could hear me! I shouted it again. How crazy was that? To believe someone was here? Nobody would’ve even seen me. Who would be out here at this time of night? I took a deep breath, before untwisting the cap that held this dangerous product within the bottle—A product of mass destruction. My revenge. My high.
I walked into the room. It made me sick to my stomach. Flesh it could still be seen on the walls. The smell made my head weak, my stomach battled with the contents I had eaten earlier in the day. A slice of pizza. And now I wouldn’t have eaten in days; I knew it. The chain in which Jacob was bound by laid in a corner attached to the wall.
The floor, it was dirty. The floor was the foundation. The foundation of the fight club, and everything that was wrong with it. It was the floor Dr. Chan stood on, while he beat the living shit out of Jacob with no remorse. This was the floor Jacob slept on; even dogs have beds in the corner of fancy homes. This is where I would start.
I dumped the kerosene onto the floor, the dirt mixing with the flammable fluid. The anger flared through me, no matches needed for that. I shouted, I cursed, I mumbled damn near incoherently. It only took me a few seconds before I had covered the entire room with kerosene. With-out thinking, I reached into my jackets pocket, pulling out a match box. I removed the lid, lifted up my foot before rubbing the match against it, setting the tip on fire.
The fire soft and calm, ready to do no harm. I stared at it. I saw something. Not the flame or anything of the sort. But instead? I saw the ring. The ring I used to fight in. With it’s little boxed in cage, and the seats that surrounded it…
Before I knew it, I had dumped the liquid all over the fight club arena too. Every last inch of the bleachers. Every inch of the ring, this would soon serve as a cage of raging, unforgiving fire. I would burn this fight club down and everything within it. Too man injustices have been fought here…
The innocent has always ended up paying.
I lit up a second match. This time its flame moved left to right rapidly as if it called to me. Once again I lifted the flame to my eyes, as I watched it sway helplessly back and forth. It knew what was coming. I was going to burn this place to the ground, nothing more than dust and ashes. Nobody would ever return here. Nobody would ever suffer again. This place would never see its light and day, and will never shaft someone in the corner of darkness. I looked at the flame one last time…I smiled.
The flames spread quickly, just like I had imagined in my eyes moments before. I didn’t run, nor did I think about any escape plans. I was too amazed in what I had done. I slowly backed away as the flames crept closer to me. I walked back, the whole way I walked back.
The dirt, the memories, everything about this place was disappearing before my eyes—the flames suffocating it with no emotion. Before I knew it, I was out side. The entire building was lit on flames, as it spilled through the windows of the fight club. In the back round I could hear police sirens. The word of my action had spread faster than the flames did; the irony.
I took one last glance, before turning my back towards the burning fight club. I regretted nothing…every inch I prayed would burn. And in the end? It did to my knowledge. I crept back through the night, and didn’t turn around.
However something, something tingled in my spine, sharp and unforgiving.
And it wasn’t the cold.
Present Day:
The blue ball
A change. It was Jacobs’s recommendation, and so I took it into account and ventured out-side of the wrestling business. And besides; I knew I couldn’t wrestle forever and this would serve as a good solid thing to fall back on to pull in some venue, although I wasn’t in it for the money.
A wrestling community center. I had developed plans on the side to build one. It would be positive thing around this neighborhood. I hadn’t come up with a name, or even a big vision—but I had scheduled with a few building companies around the city. It was time to give back to the community Dr. Chan and his goons had taken so much away from.
‘’Sir?’’ A lady called out to me. She wore a long formal dress, and had her hair tied back in a bun, she held a stack of papers tightly to her chest. ‘’Are you ready to see the property?’’
I didn’t answer verbally; I had just returned a slight nod. We both stepped into a car, which drove us up a hill and drove us up to the site. It was it. The exact same spot, the exact same burnt down wreckage I had caused months ago. ‘’A fire someone had started one, and burnt this place down’’ She said I looked at her, trying to hide the guilt.
‘’Yeah?’’ I quickly blurted out. ‘’Do you happen to know what was built here before it burnt down? I mean, a crack house or something…’’
She looked at me her body language telling me she was confused with an eye brow cocked up in the air. ‘’No, I don’t know to be honest. That’s the thing about this place. Nobody ever seemed to know it existed until it burnt down. They never had a license to build it to begin with’’
It made sense. Dr. Chan had paid the government off under the terms they didn’t even acknowledge the place existed. Knowing that though the more justified I felt doing in what I had done. ‘’Want to check it out?’’ She asked me, as I returned a quick nod. As I walked I pulled out my pen and paper, and continued to write.
I’ve been writing this thing for way to long now, it’s about time I wrapped it up. I don’t know what Jacob thinks of me. I don’t know how he’s doing in jail, or when he’s going to get out now. But if I could tell him one thing, it would be that I tried. Jacob…
Hell Jacob, I’m trying right now. I’ve lost your key to freedom, but it doesn’t mean I can’t find it. All I need is a month, hang in there for one more month, and I’ll have you out. You’ve fought many injustices in your life. You’ve been kidnapped and tortured, it makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about it. But one thing you can count on is that you’ll never have to return.
The fight club, Jacob I destroyed it. Burnt down to the ground. Nobody can come in and use it anymore, unless they plan on sorting through the scrap to do so. The memories, your pain, everything you hated existed in that place—and now it’s gone. It won’t fix everything, but maybe it’ll fix something.
Jacob, I have a match this weekend. I know this isn’t what you want to hear. You hate fighting. But this guy, this man he is no different from Dr. Chan. He captures, holds people against there will, and viciously assaults them—and tries to justify it as enlightenment. Jacob, I’m sure somewhere in Dr. Chan’s twisted mine doing what he did do you was justifiable, but it isn’t. And Link will pay in blood.
Jacob, lastly I just want to say…
Justice; will be served.
‘’Sir?’’ The lady called out. Taking my eyes away from my paper I looked up at her. She had a disappointed look on her face, as she held a cell phone to her ear. ‘’I’m sorry but I have some bad news’’ She broke to me. Confused I marched up to her.
‘’What do you mean there's bad news?’’ I questioned her. She sighed, before shaking her head back and forth helplessly.
‘’A man by the name Brian has just purchased this exact same lot minutes before you did’’ She tucked her phone in her pocket before putting her hand on my shoulder. ‘’If you are still interested we can take a look at some other pieces of land?’’
I looked at her feeling beaten, confused, and lost. ‘’No, I think I’m fine for today. I’ll give you a call if I need any help’’ She said something afterwards, but I paid her no mind and simply kept walking. I walked closer onto the lot, the fight club was still in pieces, burnt to the crisp. Frustrated I kicked at the remains of the fight club, a large piece of the roof was no match for me as it flew high in the air. Underneath it though, something rolled out from under the rebel…
I reached over and picked it up. A blue ball. Examining it further the words ‘’Timmy’’ was written in black marker across it.
Suddenly a sharp pain shot through my side dropping me to my knees with no remorse. My pad of paper dropping amongst the wreckage. The ball in my other hand rolling away and onto a large green pasture of grass. I looked up at the sky, and the sun stared back at me.
…It wasn’t the cold.
--
Link me to this vow
You hit me from behind, because you fear looking into my face. You kidnap others, torture, beat them, and hold them against their will—because you fear the power of freedom. Little boy, you talk and you talk, but you haven’t even moved forward towards getting your feet wet. Well, here it is. I’m looking into your eyes, no boundaries can withhold me from my freedom, and I’ve walked long before I’ve ever crawled.
Little boy, Little boy…continue to run your mouth. The whole world is watching, you’ve gotten the attention you’ve craved for so long. And look, you didn’t have to kid nap a single soul to do so. This is because you’ve been given your chance. The devil has signed away your good will, well being, and physical health all for this moment. The moment where you can take your shot at the big bad machine, where you can get rid of your worse nightmare, the destroyer of your day.
The pressure is on, you feel the sweat building. It’s been in formation for weeks now. The adrenaline is pumping up, the fans are stomping their feet and beating any guard rail they can. The stage is set. You’ll walk down it. You’ll try to hide your fear, and you may even fool yourself for a few seconds…
The fans will be watching, and listening observing closely. The moment you’ve waited for so long? It will flash before your eyes. And while you’ve allowed your mouth to run dry on the subject of this enlightenment you so dearly speak of; it’ll be shoved down your throat, for the entire world to watch. Your moans, your cries for help—the same world you craved for? They’ll watch, and they’ll smile. Their ears will be drained out with your screams, pleas, and mercy calls for help.
And they won’t listen. Who do you turn to now, little boy? Your eyes barely open, you feel yourself slipping away. You look up, you see my face. The big bad machine. Your nightmare. The destroyer of your day. Little boy, you don’t want to die. You aren’t ready to go. You will claw at me feet. Through your dry mouth you will call for my help. You will stare into my eyes and beg for MY enlightenment. And do you know what I do, little boy?
I reach down and put you out of your misery once and for all. For no enlighten can provide light to your dark soul.
Signed,
The big bad machine, your nightmare, the destroyer of your day. Little boy, riddle me this…
What’s my name?
''Enlightenment? Save it for your darker days to come''
You know what? To hell with the fancy introductions, fuck the spot lights, fuck setting the grand stage for November Reign. You see, if I had brought those three things to his little promotion of ours—it might actually deem this match of any importance, it might give your ego a little boost which you simply do not deserve.
Link, you do not deserve this match with me. For the past three weeks the world has simply gawked at your ploy for attention. Is Dr. Matt too busy with more important matters? Is Hurricane Jeff gone bored of your idle threats? And what’s all this talk about saving the APW? Connor was already fired a week ago, FYI. So here I am, sitting, thinking about where this thing between me and you began?
Oh, wait I got it. Your problems date way back. Back to when you were breaking your molar teeth on subject matters that surpassed your pay grade. I mean how many times were you choked out, beat up, and made out to be a big flop against Moses Lake? And how much of a coincidence was it when you tried and FAILED to end the cancer in the EWC that was Shadow Man, only for me to emerge and do what you simply couldn’t?
You look back to the EWC and you see what I had accomplished and it’s made you envious. You see while you had to indulge in lame kidnappings, cryptic videos, and death threats to get over, all I ever had to do is show up to the arena to draw more heat then you. I got all the attention. And unlike you, Link? I won world titles. It doesn’t take a crystal ball of a low grade physic to see that my career shining doesn’t sit well with yours which remains in a cold-dark isolated corner.
And maybe this is where your hate is all coming from? You see this happening all over again. You’ve set your eyes on the world championship, and now I am here. You see me as a threat, and hell that’s fine. It’s not hard to see you’re already back peddling on your motives for a safe bet. I mean, we all know the Overdrive or ‘’FTW’’ championship as you put it, is where your head is really at. That’s what you’ve been after all along…well…since two weeks ago, when you practically handed the title.
The truth Link there isn’t a person on this roster that doesn’t want to hold the APW world title. Well, with the exception of John Green. Furthermore it’s only because he fears any responsibility, and hasn’t won a match in almost what? A year? But fuck, you’d be lying if you’d claim you wouldn’t jump like a little bitch with a treat hanging over his head when it came to the world title. Now sit pretty while I smack you on the snout for rolling in your own shit. That title you currently wield is worth nothing, fool.
I mean let’s open our eyes and decode the situation. Level-One vs. Link and it’s NOT for the overdrive title? I think it spells it our right there, my little pale friend. What that is spelling out you illiterate fuck, is that everyone and their mothers knows I will beat you come November Reign, and that the management doesn’t want me bogged down with that piece of light weight metal by the end of the night. I mean, what’s the point of vacating it in another month when I beat whoever happens to be APW world champion?
Link, don’t you for one second insult my intelligence or my talent for that matter. Over the past few weeks you’ve been running your mouth, making idle threats, and pulling sneak attacks that I could have pulled off much more effectively myself. It seems like you and everyone else here, is not getting the translation? They do not know what exactly they have in-front of their faces. Well they are in for a treat now, aren’t they? The truth is I haven’t even exercised my full potential on a full scale just yet. Hurricane Jeff knows this full well. Link, you simply have not been paying enough attention, but don’t worry—your blood will surely make up for it come Sunday.
And the truth is, is that I haven’t been giving the opportunity to take the entire world by storm in the APW just yet. I mean, I’m a main-eventer. I’m a legend in the making. You can go to any federation in the world look up and down their roster, and never find anyone with the talent I have. What dark corner off the face of the planet did you come from to make any claims otherwise? Imagine being me, and having to wake up to fight guys like you? I didn’t even have the privilege to open up the show, and to set the tone. Instead we get the bathroom piss and pop corn slot on the card. Link, you’re holding me back.
And now what? I have to walk down to the ring, in a match that was placed second on a pay-per-view card to beat your face in? And for what? What the fuck do I have to prove that I haven’t proved already? If I was to get a title shot today, right now, as of this moment, I’d beat Sabur 1-2-3 no questions asked. I guess, it does make sense as to why they won’t let me aim at him, doesn’t it?
The truth is Link, they don’t want one of us—a former EWC’er to show the rest of the home grown roster up. Call in Amy Rosen, BDC, Moses Lake, James Chambers and hell even Kid Cannabis and they would all make Sabur their very own platform towards the APW world title. As much as you despise Jeff it makes me wonder if you are in with him all along.
And so Que the distraction. Fuck, Link. That’s all you’ve ever been in this business. You aren’t after providing people with ‘’enlightenment’’ unless it’s to blind them from achieving greater things than you have accomplished yourself. Much like you did when you leeched off the balls of Hurricane Jeff, BDC and the rest of Retribution Inc in the EWC, much like you wormed your way into Shadow Man’s life and much like you constricted Moses Lake’s movement by strapping him down into a chair. Link, that’s all you really are. A link onto someone else. A blood sucking parasite. Link…
…You’re a fucking maggot under my boot.
As for your enlightenment? Hold it tight, Link. Because when I’m done and through with you, you’ll be nothing but a lost man who can’t turn to anything but an empty bottle. And trust me. When the night is all said and done, and I prove to you that you are nothing more that a pale, pathetic, feeble minded man? You’ll need that enlightenment to light up your tomorrow. To turn your whole world of failure into something positive and maybe…just maybe out of it can result in some success.
Link, you aren’t a savoir. Your distorted look at the world around you, is leading you to nothing more than burning bridges you cannot cross with-out being burnt. Besides this wrestling career what more, if anything do you have? Nothing, Link. I too have lost it all, and this is all I have. But Link, what I have is secure. I know that every-time I step into the ring, I will deliver. And on my best nights? I simply cannot be beaten. I never stop improving. I’m never on the decline. Fuck, Jeff can throw you in my way until I break every bone in your body and render your not only mentally, but physically useless—I will prove my point time after time.
I however cannot deny this. A huge part of me wishes I was in the main-event. I know I deserve it, but it’s funny how life works. I must deal with you, and Dr. Phate get’s his free shot—and poorly executed miss at Sabur. But with you Link? You become another name on my resume. Another piece of evidence I must put forward, in which I will eventually will use to plead my case.
And justice? It’ll prevail.
There’s always a good side to everything. With that said, it’s hard finding anything good with you. You have all this enlightenment to offer everyone you come in contact, yet you seem to have none yourself. You are lost. You’re the one who needs help finding your way. Allow me to help you. Allow me to pack your bags, and direct you out of my fucking ring this Sunday. Link, you aren’t welcome.
As much as I feel like just not showing up, and cashing in on a few hours of extra sleep, that is never how I conduct business. Link, I’m not coming to the arena to show you up, or out wrestle you. I will show up for a fight. This thing between us? It’s more than some friendly competition. You’ve questioned my talent, you’ve made your false claims, and you’ve tried way too hard to gain my attention for me to now simply turn around and ignore it.
November Rein will not match my fucking storm. Save yourself the embarrassment, fool. Your enlightenment will not serve as your umbrella tonight. For every drop of rain my storm brings, it will represent one of your many failures. After time the memories will be too much to handle. You will succumb to my power and fall because of your own weakness. Link the whole world will watch as you will drown face down in your own failure.
Link, prepare yourself…the impact will follow.
