Post by Crimson Ghost on Nov 7, 2010 13:01:45 GMT -4
Tons of candles are scattered around an empty and run down room inside of a building that is as equally run down and beaten. The walls of the room are cracked, and some even have pieces of plaster missing. There is little to no furniture inside of the room, and what furniture that there is, is broken and covered in dust. An idle fireplace sits in the middle of the far wall, coated in an equally thick coat of dust. Silence has taken over the room, but that silence is cut by laughter. Not heartfelt laughter of joy, but laughter of madness. The laughter gets a source as the masked Crimson Ghost is seen standing in a doorway. His arms are up, holding the top of the door frame, and his head is down, but his eyes stare out from under the crimson mask.
"Do you hear them?"
More laughing cuts through the room.
"Do you hear what the voices are saying? Listen."
He pauses, no laughter, as the silence returns to the room. After a few moments, that maniacal laughter returns.
"They tell him that his job is not done. That this is only his beginning. That people are not taking the Crimson Ghost seriously, even are he warned them. After he told them what to expect. What to worry about. But no one listened! No one took heed of his warning!
"And now, they will all pay a price. A price that only he could attribute to them. It won't be their life. It won't be their families. No, he has more in store for them than that. And each and everyone of them will see just what he is talking about. Just what he meant when he said that he is crafty. Cunning. That he takes no shit. They will understand what he meant, and none of them will like it. None of them will like it because he will ruin their path to greatness.
"But the Crimson Ghost doesn't care."
Crimson Ghost laughs again as he drops his hands from the door frame and slaps them on the back of his head, his eyes still staring forward, visible only slightly in the flickering flame of the nearest candle.
"The voices tell him that Gordie James is the first one to pay that price. That he is the first one to get that message that the Crimson Ghost wants to relay. Gordie doesn't know what is going to hit him, no he won't. Right now, he sits and waits, thinking that he has some easy match ahead of him. Something that takes a backseat to family dinners. But he doesn't. Because the Crimson Ghost is no pushover. The Crimson Ghost is no discarded piece of trash.
"The Crimson Ghost is a competitor. A fighter. A man who is driven by the love of inflicting pain. Driven by the errors people have made in his past. The Crimson Ghost doesn't care about someone’s well being. He doesn't care about someone's health and safety. Especially not someone who claims to be suicidal. Someone who calls himself a Messiah. No, the Crimson Ghost doesn't care about any of that.
"Words are only words. What it all comes down to for him, is the fight inside of the ring. The fight outside of the ring. Bringing the insane to Insane Wrestling Championship. That is all the Crimson Ghost cares about. That is all he wants. He can't wait for the moment that bell rings, and Gordie James shows the world that he is not the Messiah of anything. That he is nothing more than a regular person.
"Something the Crimson Ghost is not.
"Led by those that lead him, the sky is the limit for the Crimson Ghost. There is nothing that is going to stop him. Nothing. If he gets knocked down, if he gets left in a pool of his own blood, the Crimson Ghost will get right back up, a smile on his face, and passion in his eyes. Can Gordie James say the same thing about himself?
"He could. But the Crimson Ghost won't believe it. The Crimson Ghost won't believe it until he sees it in action. And something tells him that he won't see anything of that sort. That he won't see anything out of the ordinary, that would make Gordie James look like the Suicide Messiah he says he is. Because the Crimson Ghost is better than Gordie James can dream of.
"Because the Crimson Ghost is not alone in his fight. Not like Gordie.
"The Crimson Ghost has friends in high places. Friends who look out for him, and give him advice on what to do. And right now, those friends are telling him that they won't let him down. That they will not leave him high and dry come Asylum. The time that is almost upon us!"
The maniacal laughter returns as Crimson Ghost runs his hands forward along his head before placing them back on the door frame, this time on either side of him.
"Tonight is the night, Gordie. Tonight is the night that you and the Crimson Ghost face off inside of that ring. The night when the crowd goes into a frenzy, not for you, but because the Crimson Ghost gives them something to cheer about. Something to care about.
"Not some fake prophet of self inflicted death. No, not someone like that. He gives them something serious to care about. The Crimson Ghost gives them a reason to tune into Asylum each and every time.
"He doesn’t claim to be the best, Gordie James, but he does claim to be better than you. He knows you won’t believe that. He knows that you will deny, deny, deny. And you know what? He’s fine with it. He doesn’t care how you perceive his words, because the words are not what matters. He told you that before. Words are words.
"Fighting is fighting. And the Crimson Ghost is the better fighter. He knows that without even seeing you inside of that ring. He knows that without even seeing a single clip of anything you have done.
"Clips he doesn’t care to see.
"Because he doesn’t care about you, Gordie. He wouldn’t mind if you failed to move after the match. But that is just how the Crimson Ghost is.
"He is the real suicide messiah."
The laughter returns as Crimson Ghost returns his hands to his head, slapping them on either side, and shaking it from side to side, still looking forward, a toothy smile creeping to his face.
"The Crimson Ghost will see you in the ring, Gordie. The place where he begins his quest to make everyone pay.
"And you are the first on his list."
"Do you hear them?"
More laughing cuts through the room.
"Do you hear what the voices are saying? Listen."
He pauses, no laughter, as the silence returns to the room. After a few moments, that maniacal laughter returns.
"They tell him that his job is not done. That this is only his beginning. That people are not taking the Crimson Ghost seriously, even are he warned them. After he told them what to expect. What to worry about. But no one listened! No one took heed of his warning!
"And now, they will all pay a price. A price that only he could attribute to them. It won't be their life. It won't be their families. No, he has more in store for them than that. And each and everyone of them will see just what he is talking about. Just what he meant when he said that he is crafty. Cunning. That he takes no shit. They will understand what he meant, and none of them will like it. None of them will like it because he will ruin their path to greatness.
"But the Crimson Ghost doesn't care."
Crimson Ghost laughs again as he drops his hands from the door frame and slaps them on the back of his head, his eyes still staring forward, visible only slightly in the flickering flame of the nearest candle.
"The voices tell him that Gordie James is the first one to pay that price. That he is the first one to get that message that the Crimson Ghost wants to relay. Gordie doesn't know what is going to hit him, no he won't. Right now, he sits and waits, thinking that he has some easy match ahead of him. Something that takes a backseat to family dinners. But he doesn't. Because the Crimson Ghost is no pushover. The Crimson Ghost is no discarded piece of trash.
"The Crimson Ghost is a competitor. A fighter. A man who is driven by the love of inflicting pain. Driven by the errors people have made in his past. The Crimson Ghost doesn't care about someone’s well being. He doesn't care about someone's health and safety. Especially not someone who claims to be suicidal. Someone who calls himself a Messiah. No, the Crimson Ghost doesn't care about any of that.
"Words are only words. What it all comes down to for him, is the fight inside of the ring. The fight outside of the ring. Bringing the insane to Insane Wrestling Championship. That is all the Crimson Ghost cares about. That is all he wants. He can't wait for the moment that bell rings, and Gordie James shows the world that he is not the Messiah of anything. That he is nothing more than a regular person.
"Something the Crimson Ghost is not.
"Led by those that lead him, the sky is the limit for the Crimson Ghost. There is nothing that is going to stop him. Nothing. If he gets knocked down, if he gets left in a pool of his own blood, the Crimson Ghost will get right back up, a smile on his face, and passion in his eyes. Can Gordie James say the same thing about himself?
"He could. But the Crimson Ghost won't believe it. The Crimson Ghost won't believe it until he sees it in action. And something tells him that he won't see anything of that sort. That he won't see anything out of the ordinary, that would make Gordie James look like the Suicide Messiah he says he is. Because the Crimson Ghost is better than Gordie James can dream of.
"Because the Crimson Ghost is not alone in his fight. Not like Gordie.
"The Crimson Ghost has friends in high places. Friends who look out for him, and give him advice on what to do. And right now, those friends are telling him that they won't let him down. That they will not leave him high and dry come Asylum. The time that is almost upon us!"
The maniacal laughter returns as Crimson Ghost runs his hands forward along his head before placing them back on the door frame, this time on either side of him.
"Tonight is the night, Gordie. Tonight is the night that you and the Crimson Ghost face off inside of that ring. The night when the crowd goes into a frenzy, not for you, but because the Crimson Ghost gives them something to cheer about. Something to care about.
"Not some fake prophet of self inflicted death. No, not someone like that. He gives them something serious to care about. The Crimson Ghost gives them a reason to tune into Asylum each and every time.
"He doesn’t claim to be the best, Gordie James, but he does claim to be better than you. He knows you won’t believe that. He knows that you will deny, deny, deny. And you know what? He’s fine with it. He doesn’t care how you perceive his words, because the words are not what matters. He told you that before. Words are words.
"Fighting is fighting. And the Crimson Ghost is the better fighter. He knows that without even seeing you inside of that ring. He knows that without even seeing a single clip of anything you have done.
"Clips he doesn’t care to see.
"Because he doesn’t care about you, Gordie. He wouldn’t mind if you failed to move after the match. But that is just how the Crimson Ghost is.
"He is the real suicide messiah."
The laughter returns as Crimson Ghost returns his hands to his head, slapping them on either side, and shaking it from side to side, still looking forward, a toothy smile creeping to his face.
"The Crimson Ghost will see you in the ring, Gordie. The place where he begins his quest to make everyone pay.
"And you are the first on his list."
