Post by drakeblake on Jun 15, 2014 15:27:46 GMT -6
The air was crisp, even for summer time, in the northern Minnesota climate. That did not stop a young care-free Drake Blake to run around on rooftops in gym shorts and no shirt. Even if the weather was freezing he would never wear a shirt, he felt that it would hamper his free running ability. The people stopped and stared at the crazy hooligan jumping from roof to roof, never showing signs of slowing down and never taking time to judge the distance. The confidence Drake had in his abilities was enough to make Alexander the Great look shy.
Drake took a huge leap off of one roof and performed a front flip to the roof adjacent to it while performing a barrel roll to protect his joints from getting damaged. Immediately after hitting the roof top he was right back to his feet and did not stop running. No one could see, but there was a certain atmosphere to Drake that had been abandoned for a long while. It was happiness. For the first time in a very long time, Drake Blake, had a smile on his face. He did not know if it was from the fact that he was about to start his new career in VOW or if it was because he finally felt the curse of the Sickness lifted off of his shoulders.
Drake had not had a mental image of the Sickness for the past three weeks. These past weeks had let him finally think about what was going to be good for Drake, and not how he was going to cope with the Sickness. For the past twenty-four years, the Sickness had haunted his very existence. Making him flip out in rage, scaring away loved ones, hurting the ones Drake cared most for, and worst of all it tore apart the closest and only friendship Drake had ever had. Drake was finally free…Or so he thought.
As, Drake, took another mighty leap to a roof top farther away, a vision of Sick came into his sight. He was there sitting on the ledge straight in front of Drake with an evil grin plastered across his face. Drake’s eyes widened as he heard the Sickness’ sly voice say, “Hello, Drakey. Miss me?”
Drake panicked as he lost his focus and slammed into the ledge. As many swipes at the top of the ledge as he made he could not grasp it before it was too late. He fell back first onto the fire escape as the rusted metal gave way and he fell right through into the dumpster below. Drake let out a deep groan of pain as he tried to shake the stars that he was seeing away. When his vision finally became clear he saw his dopple-ganger known as the Sickness sitting on the edge of the dumpster. “That looked painful. Did something catch your eye?” The Sickness said sarcastically.
Drake’s past was coming back to haunt him. Just when he felt like it was going to be nothing but smooth sailing, the Sickness brought a hurricane to wreck his ship. This was not good, especially now that Drake had just signed on to VOW.
“I thought you were gone,” Drake questioned the Sickness.
“Oh please, Drakey. I told you that you can never get rid of me. The only way is to die,” The Sickness chuckled.
“Don’t think I haven’t thought about it,” Drake said morbidly.
“Oh drop the emo, doom and gloom act. We were allies at one point. I would even go as far as calling ourselves friends,” The Sickness said as Drake crawled out of the garbage. He landed on the asphalt with a thud in the alley way.
“Friends? You thought we were friends? You manipulated me! You’ve made my life a living hell from the start!” Drake exclaimed.
“Name once,” The Sickness said acting confused.
“You split up the only friend that I ever had!” Drake said referring to his old tag team partner, Patrick Jones.
The Sickness paused for moment until breaking the silence with, “Okay, name twice.”
Drake groaned and threw his hands on his head before letting out a deep breath. He calmly placed his hands in his pockets and turned his back on the Sickness. “But, I know what you hate the most…And that is being ignored,” Drake finished as he started to walk out onto the sidewalk.
The Sickness suddenly appeared in front of him making Drake pause for a moment. “You can’t ignore me! You are nothing without me!” The Sickness yelled furiously. A smirk appeared on Drake’s face before walking right through him.
“I somehow think it is the other way around. Oh yes, I am the one with the body here and you are just a weak spirit that has nothing better to do that appear in some guys mind,” Drake said walking away.
“Just you wait, boy. You will come crawling back to me soon enough,” The Sickness said coldly. “I’m the drug that you will never get over,” The Sickness finished before evaporating into the air.
Drake put on a grin from ear to ear. He had finally felt like he was on the winning side of the war between him and the Sickness. He was finally in control and nothing could stop him. He only needed to cope with the possibility that Sick might appear in the ring to distract him. Even though no one else could see him, it made it that much harder for Drake to ignore him. This just made another obstacle that Drake would have cross on his debut match on VOW. It was not just a regular match, but he had two opponents and was weary of the Sickness.
Drake rounded the corner and walked into the hotel that he was staying at. It was not fancy, but it was what Drake had always called home. Being a young wrestler for various companies in the past, he was used to not having much money and staying only where he could afford. Money was no issue for him at the moment, but he certainly wanted to get back to his roots as he began a new life in this new wrestling company. Drake did not know much about VOW except for the fact that it was a very young company, a small company, and that Patrick Jones was a recent signee.
Drake walked past the front desk and stepped into the elevator still planning out his match strategies and thinking about his future in VOW. His two opponents were “The Queen” Vanessa, even though Drake had always just called her V, and Casanova English.
Drake was not that worried about Vanessa. He had seen her compete loads of times and knows most of her strategies back from past companies that they were in together. Drake had always found Vanessa extremely attractive, but then again she was exactly Drake’s type. She was a punk chick who was borderline insane, cocky, and perverted. The elevator dinged which stopped whatever fantasy was going on in Drake’s mind at that moment as he shook off his lustful feelings and tried to concentrate on the match ahead.
He felt confident that he could easily take out Vanessa. He could definitely overpower her, he was more athletic than ninety percent of the roster, and even though she was known for being brutally insane Drake knew for a fact that he was crazier than her when it came down to it. As for Casanova English, Drake did not know much about the man other than the fact that he was known for being an overbearing asshole. The only thing Drake had on him that he knew of was that he had been in the business longer. Drake had to use his experience to his advantage. Drake might be a young competitor, but he started at an even younger age than the most experienced athletes. At only twenty-four years of age he had been wrestling and perfecting his style for seven long years. Drake acted very childish and cocky, but on the inside he is wise and reserved. Drake would simply have to out-perform this opponent.
Drake finally got to his room door. He swiped his card key and opened the door, but to his dismay, the Sickness greeted him at the door. “You don’t think you can win without me do you?”
“No, Sick, I don’t think. I know,” Drake said before walking into the bathroom. He went to check the mirror for any redness in his eyes. A sigh of relief came out of him when he saw they were their natural baby blue color.
“How cliché is that line?” The Sickness mocked Drake. “Whatever, you know you need me. I am what makes you the warrior that you truly are. Where do you think you get your reflexes, athletic ability, and amazing stamina from? That’s right, your old granddaddy, Brakketh.”
Drake’s eyes widened. This was the first time that the Sickness had ever used his real name. Drake wasn’t used to hearing that name. It made him realize that the Sickness used to be a real man back in the dark ages. Drake continued not to say anything to the Sickness.
“This ‘Sickness’ as you call me, is what grants you the in ring ability that you possess. It is only with my power that you ever succeeded in wrestling,” The Sickness argued. “Without me you are nothing more than a whiny little boy!”
“Shut it!” Drake said angrily turning to look at the Sickness. Staring into his dark red eyes Drake continued, “The reason that I have all these abilities is because I worked my ass off for this! I overcame obstacles in my life that no ordinary man should go through. I had to live with you making my life hell. You hurt every person that came into my life! I had to grow up a teenager waging war with my own mind! I was never good at anything until I found wrestling…Hell, I wasn’t even good at that! I worked my ass off because I loved it. I was good without you and I will remain good without you. Hell, good isn’t even a good enough word to describe my skill! I’m gonna be the fucking best! And I don’t need some wannabe warlord spirit trying to tell me that I am not good enough! I’m going to win this match for me! I’m going to win this match without you and hopefully prove to Patrick that I have truly changed! I’m going to do this so I can get my best friend back. So get out of my fucking head!!” Drake yelled as the Sickness suddenly disappeared.
Drake stopped for a moment to catch his breath. Those feelings have been pent up for a long while now. He felt relieved that he had finally gotten them out. He was at the brink of going crazy when he was trying to keep everything bottled up inside. But was he finally free? Was the Sickness truly gone? He did not care. The only thing he had on his mind now was winning his match. He picked up his cell phone and dialed a number that was not in his contacts anymore, but he knew it by memory. It was the number of, Patrick Jones.
The text read, “Sickness may make a man stop working, but eventually he will be back. Did you miss me, Patty?”
Drake took a huge leap off of one roof and performed a front flip to the roof adjacent to it while performing a barrel roll to protect his joints from getting damaged. Immediately after hitting the roof top he was right back to his feet and did not stop running. No one could see, but there was a certain atmosphere to Drake that had been abandoned for a long while. It was happiness. For the first time in a very long time, Drake Blake, had a smile on his face. He did not know if it was from the fact that he was about to start his new career in VOW or if it was because he finally felt the curse of the Sickness lifted off of his shoulders.
Drake had not had a mental image of the Sickness for the past three weeks. These past weeks had let him finally think about what was going to be good for Drake, and not how he was going to cope with the Sickness. For the past twenty-four years, the Sickness had haunted his very existence. Making him flip out in rage, scaring away loved ones, hurting the ones Drake cared most for, and worst of all it tore apart the closest and only friendship Drake had ever had. Drake was finally free…Or so he thought.
As, Drake, took another mighty leap to a roof top farther away, a vision of Sick came into his sight. He was there sitting on the ledge straight in front of Drake with an evil grin plastered across his face. Drake’s eyes widened as he heard the Sickness’ sly voice say, “Hello, Drakey. Miss me?”
Drake panicked as he lost his focus and slammed into the ledge. As many swipes at the top of the ledge as he made he could not grasp it before it was too late. He fell back first onto the fire escape as the rusted metal gave way and he fell right through into the dumpster below. Drake let out a deep groan of pain as he tried to shake the stars that he was seeing away. When his vision finally became clear he saw his dopple-ganger known as the Sickness sitting on the edge of the dumpster. “That looked painful. Did something catch your eye?” The Sickness said sarcastically.
Drake’s past was coming back to haunt him. Just when he felt like it was going to be nothing but smooth sailing, the Sickness brought a hurricane to wreck his ship. This was not good, especially now that Drake had just signed on to VOW.
“I thought you were gone,” Drake questioned the Sickness.
“Oh please, Drakey. I told you that you can never get rid of me. The only way is to die,” The Sickness chuckled.
“Don’t think I haven’t thought about it,” Drake said morbidly.
“Oh drop the emo, doom and gloom act. We were allies at one point. I would even go as far as calling ourselves friends,” The Sickness said as Drake crawled out of the garbage. He landed on the asphalt with a thud in the alley way.
“Friends? You thought we were friends? You manipulated me! You’ve made my life a living hell from the start!” Drake exclaimed.
“Name once,” The Sickness said acting confused.
“You split up the only friend that I ever had!” Drake said referring to his old tag team partner, Patrick Jones.
The Sickness paused for moment until breaking the silence with, “Okay, name twice.”
Drake groaned and threw his hands on his head before letting out a deep breath. He calmly placed his hands in his pockets and turned his back on the Sickness. “But, I know what you hate the most…And that is being ignored,” Drake finished as he started to walk out onto the sidewalk.
The Sickness suddenly appeared in front of him making Drake pause for a moment. “You can’t ignore me! You are nothing without me!” The Sickness yelled furiously. A smirk appeared on Drake’s face before walking right through him.
“I somehow think it is the other way around. Oh yes, I am the one with the body here and you are just a weak spirit that has nothing better to do that appear in some guys mind,” Drake said walking away.
“Just you wait, boy. You will come crawling back to me soon enough,” The Sickness said coldly. “I’m the drug that you will never get over,” The Sickness finished before evaporating into the air.
Drake put on a grin from ear to ear. He had finally felt like he was on the winning side of the war between him and the Sickness. He was finally in control and nothing could stop him. He only needed to cope with the possibility that Sick might appear in the ring to distract him. Even though no one else could see him, it made it that much harder for Drake to ignore him. This just made another obstacle that Drake would have cross on his debut match on VOW. It was not just a regular match, but he had two opponents and was weary of the Sickness.
Drake rounded the corner and walked into the hotel that he was staying at. It was not fancy, but it was what Drake had always called home. Being a young wrestler for various companies in the past, he was used to not having much money and staying only where he could afford. Money was no issue for him at the moment, but he certainly wanted to get back to his roots as he began a new life in this new wrestling company. Drake did not know much about VOW except for the fact that it was a very young company, a small company, and that Patrick Jones was a recent signee.
Drake walked past the front desk and stepped into the elevator still planning out his match strategies and thinking about his future in VOW. His two opponents were “The Queen” Vanessa, even though Drake had always just called her V, and Casanova English.
Drake was not that worried about Vanessa. He had seen her compete loads of times and knows most of her strategies back from past companies that they were in together. Drake had always found Vanessa extremely attractive, but then again she was exactly Drake’s type. She was a punk chick who was borderline insane, cocky, and perverted. The elevator dinged which stopped whatever fantasy was going on in Drake’s mind at that moment as he shook off his lustful feelings and tried to concentrate on the match ahead.
He felt confident that he could easily take out Vanessa. He could definitely overpower her, he was more athletic than ninety percent of the roster, and even though she was known for being brutally insane Drake knew for a fact that he was crazier than her when it came down to it. As for Casanova English, Drake did not know much about the man other than the fact that he was known for being an overbearing asshole. The only thing Drake had on him that he knew of was that he had been in the business longer. Drake had to use his experience to his advantage. Drake might be a young competitor, but he started at an even younger age than the most experienced athletes. At only twenty-four years of age he had been wrestling and perfecting his style for seven long years. Drake acted very childish and cocky, but on the inside he is wise and reserved. Drake would simply have to out-perform this opponent.
Drake finally got to his room door. He swiped his card key and opened the door, but to his dismay, the Sickness greeted him at the door. “You don’t think you can win without me do you?”
“No, Sick, I don’t think. I know,” Drake said before walking into the bathroom. He went to check the mirror for any redness in his eyes. A sigh of relief came out of him when he saw they were their natural baby blue color.
“How cliché is that line?” The Sickness mocked Drake. “Whatever, you know you need me. I am what makes you the warrior that you truly are. Where do you think you get your reflexes, athletic ability, and amazing stamina from? That’s right, your old granddaddy, Brakketh.”
Drake’s eyes widened. This was the first time that the Sickness had ever used his real name. Drake wasn’t used to hearing that name. It made him realize that the Sickness used to be a real man back in the dark ages. Drake continued not to say anything to the Sickness.
“This ‘Sickness’ as you call me, is what grants you the in ring ability that you possess. It is only with my power that you ever succeeded in wrestling,” The Sickness argued. “Without me you are nothing more than a whiny little boy!”
“Shut it!” Drake said angrily turning to look at the Sickness. Staring into his dark red eyes Drake continued, “The reason that I have all these abilities is because I worked my ass off for this! I overcame obstacles in my life that no ordinary man should go through. I had to live with you making my life hell. You hurt every person that came into my life! I had to grow up a teenager waging war with my own mind! I was never good at anything until I found wrestling…Hell, I wasn’t even good at that! I worked my ass off because I loved it. I was good without you and I will remain good without you. Hell, good isn’t even a good enough word to describe my skill! I’m gonna be the fucking best! And I don’t need some wannabe warlord spirit trying to tell me that I am not good enough! I’m going to win this match for me! I’m going to win this match without you and hopefully prove to Patrick that I have truly changed! I’m going to do this so I can get my best friend back. So get out of my fucking head!!” Drake yelled as the Sickness suddenly disappeared.
Drake stopped for a moment to catch his breath. Those feelings have been pent up for a long while now. He felt relieved that he had finally gotten them out. He was at the brink of going crazy when he was trying to keep everything bottled up inside. But was he finally free? Was the Sickness truly gone? He did not care. The only thing he had on his mind now was winning his match. He picked up his cell phone and dialed a number that was not in his contacts anymore, but he knew it by memory. It was the number of, Patrick Jones.
The text read, “Sickness may make a man stop working, but eventually he will be back. Did you miss me, Patty?”
