Post by English/Corpse on Aug 14, 2016 18:22:14 GMT -6
A Casanova English Original
“However expressive, symbols can never be the things they stand for.”
― Aldous Huxley, The Doors of Perception & Heaven and Hell
GREATER TORONTO AREA (DOWNTOWN)
A Casanova English Original
“However expressive, symbols can never be the things they stand for.”
― Aldous Huxley, The Doors of Perception & Heaven and Hell
GREATER TORONTO AREA (DOWNTOWN)
Her heart was pumping a million miles a minute, Alyson runs her hands through her chopped short pixie cut; unsure if it looks good on her. The least of things she should be worried about. Rain fell gently onto the city sidewalk as she slowly walked along umbrella shielding her new hair from the rain. A folder was protected underneath her arm. In there it had everything she had learned and gathered about her fathers life and death. The grim details of the crimes were difficult to face, but she had learned to come to terms with it through her adolescence. Bulling lead to curiosity. Every now and then someone would find out who she really was even though her mother changed their last names to Watkins. Watkins was her great great grandmother’s last name. Even with witness protection stepping in because of her mother testimony. It's not hard for the average Reddit sleuth to find a couple hidden documents in the weak parts of the internet and uncover who her father was. No one believed when the news broke that a Catholic family man could be such a monster molesting a killing young woman for pleasure. Still for some deep reason she could not understand Alyson wanted closure. She wanted to understand what happened to her dad. She wanted closure for him, his victims, and herself. Alyson kept trying to sell that to herself. Trying to tell herself that what she wasn't doing wasn't completely selfish, but truth be told it was.
After a few blocks she comes to a building on the east end. Broken brick lined the walls barely structuring the walls. One of the glass panes in the front door of the complex was lazily covered with plastic wrap in place of the busted window. Alyson's finger shook involuntary as she compressed the button to apartment 16. Alyson could hear the buzz, and she released to give the person on the other end the chance to respond. She waited a long time looking over her shoulder in this particularly unsafe part of town. No response. Alyson pushes the button again. Just as she is about to try again a voice responds muffled. “Hel... Who is it?”
“It's um Alyson Watkins. Is this Mister; or I mean Detective Kuban?” Alyson just spits that out, it sounds informal. He had no idea who she was.
“Alyson? How do I know you? How do you know me?” Detective Kuban is confused. He grabs for a shirt to pull on over his body waiting for the young woman to respond. Kuban chews a stick of gum violently trying to cover up stank of last nights liquor binge.
“Well we have not officially met sir. I just have some information about a case that you might be interested in.” Alyson felt like that may have been too much to offer. She didn't have that much information; or insight to offer. She was the one actually looking to extort information.
“What case?” Kuban asks his curiosity fully peaked. He could use something in this Connolly-MacDonald murder.
“The um..” She was hesitant; her heart leaping from her chest still. “Dean MacDonald one.” The door buzzed quickly and Alyson swung it open running up the steps looking for apartment 16 anxious to get out of the vulnerability of the hallways.
Detective Kuban towered over the tiny recent high school graduate. It was awkward to have such a young girl in his apartment. It didn't take long for him to match the name Alyson Watkins with Alyson MacDonald in his file on Dean MacDonald. He thumbed over the file she brought that profiled a case not in his. Alyson was threatened years ago by a child that came about from one of the rapes that occurred. When he found out who his dad was he snapped; and he managed to track down Alyson when he couldn't infiltrate the prison to get at his father. Long story short he is locked up now. Kuban went to light the cigar between his lips,but looking down at the young woman once more he decides that to be too ignorant to her health. “Yeah, this is interesting.”
“So what do you have on the case?” It wasn't the first time she asked the question since being in the apartment, and the coffee Kuban offered her was a horrible idea. She sat there perky and intrigued fully expecting some sort of answer.
“I already told you Alyson. I don't think I can disclose that information.” He sighed and so did Alyson matching him.
Alyson sipped her coffee. “Well maybe I could help. Maybe, I could have some sort of theory. I am his flesh and blood.”
Kuban hesitated, but he was coming up cold. “Well when I investigated Connolly’s place, there was this huge weird shine to this like professional wrestler. Casanova English. Ever heard of him?” Kuban doesn't even give Alyson a chance to respond. “Anyway there was this huge image of him on the wall. Like the fella was obsessed. Know what that could mean?”
“Maybe my dad hurt someone he knows... someone close to him. Maybe he was using this guy to get to him you know?”
“Yeah maybe. It's just hard to investigate the guy when all his wrestling dates are in the US.”
“What about his family. Try and talk to them, maybe they will stir him out of the shadows. Maybe he will come to you. If he was crazy enough to go after my dad to that extent he will come after you too.”
SHIT HOTEL OUTSIDE TOWN
SHIT HOTEL OUTSIDE TOWN
Are you scared to die? Being an existentialist you think I would be terrified, but I have always thought of death as more like a sigh. A sigh of relief. See faith; faith is scary. Having someone judge me for all my wrong doings. That's my biggest fear. The inscrutable, undeniable, omnipotent judgment of God. The ultimate authority. I've come to terms. If the pearly gates are a factual reality I think I can muster up enough snot from these tar stained lungs to plant one beautiful honker in the center of the son of a bitch's forehead right before he pulls the lever sending to to the fiery abyss.
I've always temped fate, flirted with honor, danced with death. Darkness has never been too far from my reach, and I wade through it with the ember of a burning cigarette. How does a man leave another man behind? How does another man allow someone who saved him to be slaughtered? A lot of people are going to judge me for what I did to Ryder. Well, they already do. We all know full well of the critics that like to poke fun at our ways of life. Ryder Blade had to learn a lesson, he needed help understanding something if he was truly going to sink or swim. No one truly has your back. One honorable task cannot make up for the constant annoyance that is Blade's simple existence in VoW. I would rather of taken the nails than to have him come in and save me; than have him come in and once again try and take from my fame. The whole locker room like to point to the people who follow me into battle. Matt and Winter, they point at them and say they are freeloading off my success and that couldn't be further from the truth. See they backed the winning horse; they aren’t as fickle and as simple as the rest of you. They are not as easy to figure out as you perceive. See they aren't blinded by diamonds and pearls they have a bigger deeper purpose.
I vomited violently into a bucket strategically placed at my bedside; it was mostly bile. Fuck. My ears rang uncontrollably as I continue to gag off the side of the bed. I feel Alabama sit down on the bed next to be and begin patting my back. This has been happening too much, this whole routine. I drink. She gets me better. I was relying on her too much, and she was embracing the role with far too much spirit. I didn't need to bring her into this. I needed to know how to get away with it, not how to deal with it afterward. No, the bottle and I had that under control... now. It took a few times getting wasted to realize it didn't just conjure up my father. It still made me feel better though. It made me face things. It took the edge off after a hard fought week in the VoW ring. That was the good thing, it was all becoming so hectic I could barely focus on anything but my World Championship. Keeping it, doing whatever it takes. It was consuming me, it was stirring up feelings of paranoia. ChaosSworn had got to me pretty easy; they separated me from The Orphanage and were going to disfigure me. What was my back up plan? Fuck. I am better than this. I am better than...
Vomit spewed from my mouth once more. Alabama still rubbed her small hands up and down my bare back and they felt like ice. In all actuality it felt nice, soothing. Like a mother's touch. I swept he hands away as if they were burning me. “Cass are you okay? Did you want another glass of water?”
The last time I felt like this I was a child. I was ten and I was home from school. Things were good with mom then it was in the brief stint of sobriety. I didn't drink enough water the day before and I was out in the sun all afternoon. I had chills at night and my fever began to soar. Mom thought it was heatstroke and took me to the hospital. I think I blacked out, I just remember getting these pills that the doctor told me to take. Mom would crush them up in a piece of bred for me because I was horrified I would choke on them if I attempted to down them whole. I still tried to be brave and swallow them at first. I distinctly remember failing, my gag reflex kicking in uncontrollably as I couldn't get the pill down. Mom, she just patted my back. She wasn’t ashamed of me, she wasn't angry. “Cass it's okay.”
With Alabama's hand on my back it was all to familiar to that scene and it felt wrong. “I think you need to go home.” I said between gargles of vomit. The way she was looking at me I could tell she thought I was still drunk. “You need to leave. We can't do this anymore. You are not my girlfriend...” My words were hitting her like fists. “You are not my mother.” I could see the anger boiling inside her; and it impressed me it was contained in such a small fragile frame. “This has gone on far too long hasn't it? What is it you have no place to go? Why would you want to be here with me? I didn't ask for this. I have got it under control. I don't need you...”
She didn't even bother asking me how I could be do cold. “This has gone on for too long? Be your mother? Your girlfriend? You know it might be true what they say about you. You are a genius, but your also a sociopath. I thought we had something in common Cass.” Her hand balled in a fist of rage and I rolled over on the bed looking up at her wiping morsels of puke from the corners of my mouth. “I thought that we were friends.”
“I don’t need friends. Look at this empire I created. Look at where I stand. I am a champion. I am the leader of The Orphanage.” I smile as I rub my aching forehead. “Look, I appreciate your help Alabama I really do. The information your provided to help me complete my task. The extra help you have offered me after... to cope. I do appreciate it, but it's time you go home. I've got an empire to focus on.”
“An empire. You mean wrestling. It's just wrestling. It doesn’t mean anything.” She was snarky, turning on me to pick up her things, but I drug her back by the shoulders. She let out a help as I swung her onto the bed pinning her own now. I was right over her face, angry, studying. I could smell it past her stone cold glare, the sent of fear.
“It's not just wrestling. You don't even understand, and if you don't understand... then you don't need to be here. Pack your things together and go home Alabama.” I was almost nailed to a cross, I walked out on Ryder provoking him further. I was making enemies, and if this was how I acted on top of the world I didn't want to have Alabama around on a descent. I don't want to unnecessary damage people who do not need it, who can't take it. Alabama had been through a lot in her life. It was wrong of me to even involve her in all of this to begin with. I let her up, and she shook her wrist loose where I had grasped them. I didn't hear much more after that, just the door slam as she left. I must have passed back out.
SHIT HOTEL OUTSIDE TOWN
SHIT HOTEL OUTSIDE TOWN
Coffee; it has to be one of my favorite drugs. It soothes the aching skull, that begs for mercy. I was pretty hard on Alabama, but it wasn't the time to over complicate my life with women. Datura seemed rather upset over my endorsement of Winter, but I had no other choice. Winter is part of my flock, Winter needed to hear that I believed in her. That I believed in The Orphanage amidst the Chaos... funny choice of words. Ultimately she failed, and well it just ended with me having yet another enemy in Datura. Hopefully, it doesn't turn out that way. The coffee was hot sliding down my throat as I stabilized myself with one arm on the cheap linoleum counter top. I was alone. Alone in this cheap hotel room miles from Norfolk. I could smell the odor of cat piss seeping through the walls from the full time renters one room over. I could hear some over weight lady cough up hunks of tar interrupting a football game I could hear all the details. The cunt would let that baby cry for hours. I couldn't wait to check out... get another room before Alabama or Corpse poke around to check up on me like I'm a dementia ridden eighty year old. I know what I am doing. I got this far. I put this whole thing together. I am a champion for fuck sake. I took another swig of coffee and scratched my head. My iPhone rang in the pocket of my lounge pants. I scooped it up. Andy... I didn't have time for that. I had enough distraction with the family I created, I didn't need more from the family I was born into. I solved all this problems. I got mom better, I got rid of the cause of her trauma quite literally.
It was getting close to checkout time. My hair was still wet from the shower as I pulled the black Orphanage shirt over my body. I stretched my hands up in the air while sitting on the edge of the bed, and popped three more Advil washing it down with a glass of water. I picked up the World Visionary Championship on the bedside table and smiled. It has been a long journey, me and this championship have been through it all. We have battled every challenger, sometimes coming out with the skin of our teeth. It's my curse... it's my job to bring honor, pride, and history for this championship. I know people won't even give me the respect when I am still breathing... but I have made history. I made this championship famous. It will never be the other way around. Its a manifestation of my hard work. A symbol that represents, and always will represent the heart, the arrogance, and the tenacity of Casanova English. I push the hunk of gold into the black gym bag and pull it over my shoulder. People like Emma believe that the champion is only as good as the challenges that he faces. Well I hope she is truly ready to put me through the trial she claims to have in store. I've come to far to let her or Ryder take this from me. It's only gotten more heavy as I trek along my path. I've only gotten stronger.
My phone vibrating in my pocket startles me as I shut the door to piss soaked hotel room 8. I pull it from my pocket awkwardly positioning my gym bag. Fucking Andy. Again. I swiped to ignore it and as I pushed the phone back into my pocket it starts shaking again. Annoyed I toss my head from side to side jumping in the back of the limo as Lawrence holds the door for me. Why did I insist in staying in such shit holes? I guess it reminded me I am human. Not so far above the scum that people like Datura like to claim I associate. No, I'm the filthiest of insect and embracing that trait has made me the champion I am today. “Where to boss?” Lawrence asked , when I didn't answer right away he continued. “I dropped Al and Corpse off at The Holiday Inn. Al seemed pretty upset.” His brown eyes rose the the rear view mirror and managed to catch mine. “Want me to take you there too?”
I shook my head in disagreement. “No. I don't think it would be best for me to speak with her right now. I think I need to be alone for a while. So can you do me the courtesy of not mentioning to Corpse or anyone else where I am staying?”
“Of course boss.”
“Thank you Lawrence. Now, where is another good place to stay?”
“There is um... The Express.” He sounded unsure if it would suit my standards, but I just came from a cockroach ridden hotel with a glory hole in the bathroom.
I ask the only question that matters to me. “Does it have a bar?” Lawrence nodded and that was all I needed for affirmation.
He sped off toward The Express as I tried to relax in the backseat. It was an impossible battle. I found my fidgeting digits reach for the button and slowly the window rolled down. The hot late afternoon Virginia air flowed through my hair as I let out a sigh. It was starting to feel like doom was looming. Ryder was one thing, Emma one on one I felt confident about as well. Throwing all three of us in the ring together... I want to say I will come out on top, but I can't speak for other people. This tactic was used to keep the championship from me the first time I made a mistake losing to Ziu. That 6 way battle that I almost recaptured the title in, but Valquist was able to pull it off some way, somehow. I didn't get pinned. That is what this comes back to for me. To lose the championship I don't have to actually be beaten; and I am in there with people who given the opportunity would end my career. They want to make their fame off my name, but I won't go down that easy. Ryan Omega believes that he has painted me into a corner... and he has. At this point and time he has won. He has me on edge. He has me thinking I could lose this championship. This is when I am most dangerous. Oh, Ryan... if only you knew the devil you play with.
I cracked my neck side to side letting out yawn, we had been driving for fifteen minutes and we still had another fifteen to go. I know it doesn't seem that long, but when you need a drink to take the edge off... to keep the mind for continuously turning in lighting quick revolutions. Once again my iPhone sends a sensation up my thigh. Rolling my eyes I pull the phone from my pocket and slide my finger across to answer. It had to be important the way Andy was frantically calling. “WHERE THE FU...” I push the mobile device away from my face to avoid the explosion of my ear drums. I pushed my ear closer now listening. “We haven't heard from you in months. Then we get this knock at the door and I answer. It's a God damn detective.”
“Wait what?” I say somewhat panicked. A detective, what the fuck? I didn't leave a trace behind. Not a single clue. There are only a select few that know what really happened.
“Yeah some guy just past his mid-forties probably. He looked like he was half coked out, or nursing a hangover. Maybe both. Anyway, what is going on?” I just breath into the phone, my mouth growing dry. My whole life was coming to a point. I didn't have reason to just be paranoid in VoW anymore. Now I was paranoid about my personal life, about what I could of left behind in that prison. “Mom finally tells me all this stuff about your um... birth. She tells me what actually happened. I start to see why you are the way you are Cassidy. Then I see this news, that...” He drops the tone in his voice to a near whisper. “someone fucking killed that guy.”
“I don't want to discuss all of this over the phone Andrew.” I say getting it together; I wasn't done yet. I was still a champion. I was still a free man. “What was the detective's name?”
“Kuban, but with a K. He was asking a few questions like if you would of known Dean MacDonald... or had any kind of association with him. Obviously we told him we had no idea who that was other than the news. Can't imagine what you would be involved with a serial rapist that was locked up for the past like twenty years or something.” Andy paused and I could hear him pop the top off a bottle. That was one indulgence we were both beginning to enjoy. “That wasn't the only person he was asking about though. He was wondering if you heard of Lewis Connolly. Apparently that was the name of the guard killed in the riot. I told him I had no idea; and that I never heard the name my entire life.”
I swallowed hard hoping that Andy wouldn't hear it. I changed the subject awkwardly. Andy was smart not to say anything incriminating knowing that the wire could have been tapped. “How is mom doing?”
“She's mom. She isn't a junkie, and isn't a robot. She's showing no signs of cutting her wrists up again. So I think we are doing much better than before. She is really worried about you though.”
“She doesn't need to be. I am just busy with VoW. The place has been blowing up lately.”
“Yeah I know. I saw the match with Ryder. It was a pretty good one. Liked the finger guns at the end.” My ears rang as Andy laughed and chugged some of his beer.
“What about you. How are you doing Andrew?” I was trying to sound sympathetic, but in a way it wasn't an act at all. The last time I talked to Andy I was an asshole, blamed mom's suicide attempt on him. Things didn't have to be that way.
“I'm doing alright. Odd jobs here and there, but nothing I can call a career.”
“I can send you guys some more money.”
“No no, it isn't that Cass. We are getting by just fine as is. Your contribution is more than generous. I think I am just starting to see the world as you are with everything I have um... learned. I understand the anger.” I closed my eyes in bliss, that is all I have ever wanted to hear. From my brother, from my mother, from the fans packed in to VoW arena night after night. I just want them to understand why I am angry.
The limo hauled outside of The Express. “Alright Andy. I um have to go. I'll give you a call over the weekend.” I hung up quickly and exited the door Lawrence now had open for me. I nods as me as I pick up my bag and walk into the building. I don't even go to the check it. I head over the the bar, dropping the bag at my feet. “Whiskey; neat.” Life was only getting more complicated.
The camera flicks on, I'm not fucking around anymore. Not this week; there was no more time for it. It was time to focus. It was time to come to terms with my maker. Here I was with the odds stacked high above me once again; with everyone else holding the absolute opposite perception of the situation. My time has come, the bell is tolling. That’s what the papers already have ready to print. After a year long stranglehold on this company this is the the time I fall. This is the opportunity for VoW to rebuild from the ashes of my coming end. That's the story everyone wants to write; the story that everyone has proclaimed as destiny each month I defend this championship and this companies honor. The room is black, you can't see me at all. The championship is around my waist and it's the only thing catching any light in the vast darkness. The burning ember of a cigarette floating in the air is also visible, but you can't see me at all. Not my eyes, my skin, not even my shape. Everything is defined by that cigarette and that gold catching glimmers of light. “It all comes down to this. Casanova English in over his head once again. Fighting against the mediocrity and ignorance that runs rampant in this world. The sad thing is I'm not sure which is which anymore when it comes to my opposition at Heatstroke. I could write a novel on the silly little argument that Emma brings up. I can tell she thinks it is pathetic that I consider my toughest challenge to date to be Ryder Blade. Well, at least that kid has heart and originality. I can give him that anyway. The mere suggestion that my battle with Ryder somehow exploited any weakness is nonsensical. After all he did beat you one on one. The only reason ChaosSworn has a win over Ryder is because I sacrificed him to you... only in an attempt to make things easier on myself come Heatstroke. I'm not gong to hide from that strategy. I just wanted to show Ryder Blade how easy he is to manipulate. How easy it is me to pull to strings on his career. He thought that saving me from you two would somehow earn him respect, but for me respect is earned between those two bells. Sure he put a hell of a fight up at Fate of The God's, but I failed in humbling him as I set out to do. I just wanted to get that out of the way so we can move forward, there is nothing I hate more than someone suggesting they can beat someone because they beat someone else. I've seen that theory ripped apart in this sport over and over, yet I see ignorant professionals who consider themselves veterans like the woman who calls herself Death continuously revert to. Seems like Death can grasp for straws and not just the living.”
I blow a puff of smoke in the dark silent void that is the room I pace in. The sound of my dress shoes snapping against the concrete floor abruptly stops as I continue speaking. “I think I may be getting a little too far ahead of myself in all of this. Way too ahead of myself if I want tot be fully honest. I have to go way back, way back to Elskerinne and what she said about my presence in VoW months ago when she stepped from the shadows and into my open challenge. Something both Ryder and Emma were far too cowardly to step up to. She said this place isn't VoW, hell it isn't even The Orphanage. No, she stated that this organization has become Casanova English Wrestling. She suggested that it revolved all around me. The more I thought about it over the months the more and more it has consumed me and I have discovered that she is right. The idea of Casanova English has outgrown what I intended it to be, in fact. I am not even a person anymore. Looking at this place... what it has become. How big it has gotten... I can't help but realize VoW no longer exists, and neither does Casanova English.” I pause laughing in the darkness, sucking on my cigarette. “Now, I understand this may go over the heads of a lot of people that listen. I understand that this may seem radically philosophical... but hear me out. Without Casanova English VoW doesn't exist, and without VoW Casanova English does not exist. We now exist as one, a completely new entity that has been formed. An entity that shows the scum of the earth just how hard they have to scratch and claw for worth. I've had to work twice as hard as most people to get where I am. It was an up hill battle and I climbed to the top of this company so quick. I defined it do quick that now.... we are one. That's where my responsibly lies as The Gatekeeper to Greatness. In this dark new void is where Ryder Blade and Emma will come to play.”
“Now that I have explained myself allow me to move forward. I will address Ryder first as he would be the one to point out to Emma that he was here first. Sure he interjected himself into our quarrel after I put him in his place, but what was I to expect from such a child? Last week I tried over and over again to reason with you Ryder. I tried over and over again for you to follow my lead; but you are just too dense. I taught you a lesson in this business last week. No matter what you do, never trust your enemy. Not many people really have your back in this sport. It's a blood sport, cut throat, and even your best friend will slice that jugular vein and let the crimson spray if it meant getting a shot at the World Visionary Championship. It makes monsters out of men trust me on that. The fad has passed Ryder, the nostalgia you are marketing yourself under it's getting stale. You had your chance to prove once and for all you are all you are claim to be. You claim to be the best there is, referencing yourself like your are some kind of pop culture icon. The truth is Ryder the only reason anyone knows your name now, or anyone even cares about you is because I kicked your ass at Fate of The Gods. You've built your whole career off of streaks, and wins, and boasting. One man has taken it all away from you.... that is me. Sure I didn't get a hold of that most consecutive wins trophy that you hold so dearly in your mind, but everything else I have literally taken from you.” I let the silence of the darkness settle in for a moment as I slowly walk toward the camera letting my feet ring out. The ember of my cigarette gets larger as I approach the camera. “You held the record for the longest title reign... and I took that from you. I did it with the big one too. The title that actually matters, not one that is built to make second place feel fuzzy about it. No, I did it with the World Visionary Championship. I did it bigger, I did it way better bruh” I smirk, but it's not picked up in the darkness. I back away from the camera now snickering. “You lost the title and you thought you were destine for things so much greater, but I put a stop to that beating you at Fate of the God's. I thought it was going to be done there Ryder, but you want more. You want one more shot. So at Breakthrough I saw the opportunity to take something else from you Ryder. I saw the opportunity to one again chip away at your arrogance stripping you naked to showl what you truly are... mediocre. See at Breakthrough when I stepped off that apron it wasn't a gift to chaos. It was to prove a point. I control your destiny Ryder Blade. You were undefeated at Breakthrough your entire VoW career and by stepping off that mat I took away yet another thing you had to brag about and shove down people's throats. At Breakthrough that wasn't ChaosSworn beating Casanova English and Ryder Blade... that was just Casanova English destroying Ryder Blade credibility a little bit more.”
“All you had to do to avoid all this Ryder was mind your own business, but like I have said I have been playing the game since day one. I have had the brick laid to my path and so far you and Emma have walked down that pathway unknowingly hand in hand. I brought the cross to the ring, I knew what those ladies were going to do. I also knew that Ryder Blade's ego was far too large to stay away from the title picture. I knew that, and you know that Ryder that is why you are so angry with me. That is why you are now more determined than ever to take this championship from me. Worst part is all you have to do is pin Emma. Someone you have already beat and poof! You finally one up Casanova without one upping Casanova, but nothing has ever stopped you from tooting your own horn has it Ryder? What gets me is how these fans are cheering you. See it paints the picture perfect it really does. They are slowly coming around to you Ryder not because you changed any way you act. You are still that little child drunk off his own ego. You are still that same troll who teases people on twitter about their weight as a past time. When you compare all that stuff to me though Ryder. It paints you as that innocent little puppy you are. Now you are in between two hungry rottweilers. Ryder your career is being defined by my actions, by our interactions. These fans see you as the best option that have and that paints the perfect picture of just how bad the state of VoW is. There is no glimmering light, no more hope. I've stomped it all out already and now all that there is left to be sent by Ryan Omega and the powers that be is a man child and a psychotic who believes that she is Death personified. I hope this sells enough tickets for you corporate mongoloids because it has b-movie written all over it. Ryder at Heatstroke you aren't even going to be part of the discussion anymore. I'll crush your dream of being World Champion once again and send you on life long vacation where hopefully you consume enough Sprintex to become diabetic. Ryder I've tarnished your reputation. I embarrassed you on PPV. I destroyed that perfect Breakthrough record. I've slowly turned you into something you are not simply due to comparison. If you keep coming at me Ryder. If you want this championship so bad. I will offer you the same fate as everyone before you and take your livelihood.”
I ash the cigarette and in the black the sparks float to the floor like a pathetic firework. “Now Emma. You are just a whole other breed. You think that you have nothing to lose, and if that is what you honestly believe then you are stupid and the Webster dictionary you read from hasn't yet fooled yours truly. Emma you have a track record of walking into company’s and establishing your dominance. You either take out the best, or win the championship establishing control. It has taken you this long to make your move, but now you think my time is over. You think that I am unworthy to represent Visionaries of Wrestling. If I was truly unworthy you wouldn't have walked through the door. If I am truly unworthy someone would of stopped me by now Emma. See you think that this is just like GPW, but I am not going to allow gender to play a role in this discussion. I understand your sexist hatred for man and I believe it plays a massive role into this battle we both find ourselves entwined. So far you have been in the ring with me twice Emma. You can question my tactics all you want, but fact is fact. In those altercations you were unable to pin me, unable to submit me. So what makes you so truly believe you are the chosen one to birth VoW's future? I will tell you the truth that you do not want to admit. The truth is you don't believe you are the one. At least you don't believe you can get the job done come Heatstroke. A voice I notice as normally omnipotent has this slight vibration of doubt raining deep with the diaphragm. I am man. I am true evil. True darkness. Death is but a blessing, an end to the unimportant and unnerved. You say that I am marked... that you won't give up until you have captured this championship.” I rub the title now, you can see my hand floating over the gold in the darkness. “That gives the implication that you know deep down that the effort you are about to put forth will not be enough to change the course of fate. You know that this is going to go beyond Heatstroke. You know that you and I are not even close to being done with one another. You know that if you walk out of VoW with the title... I'm not going to just accept that. No, I am much more dangerous on the hunt. I don't mind chasing Death. I like the way it promises finality. Emma I am taking you more serious then I have ever taken an opponent I am willing to admit that, but question my cunning. Question The Orphanage... and it is Death's funeral. You think I am walking into this match blind, with no game plan. That is exactly how I wanted you to think. I want you to feel control, feel confident. Then... just when you feel like the whole world is going to be yours I find a way to rip it from your grasp. You think when I beat Seth Iser from him hitting a band move that I couldn’t of kicked out and kept the match going. I don't think any of you give me enough credit, but come Heatstroke once and for all I will prove that when my back is up against the wall I find a way to survive. I've cheated defeat, and I am more then prepared to defeat death. I truly hope you are smart enough to notice that there is something at stake for you. You've built a career off destroying your opponents one way or another. Both times we have been in the ring you didn't come out on top. You didn't leave me bloody like you did Chapin in the past. No, I smashed you with my belt. I escaped a beating. Then I went on to avoid defeat at Breakthrough allowing you to take your frustration out on Ryder. Allowing it, because you know I could of stopped it. Your dignity is on the line Emma.”
“ChaosSworn has a reputation across this entire sport as being one of the most dominant factions. I won't deny that to be truth, but now a war is being waged. The Orphanage stands on one side and ChaosSworn on the other. Poor Ryder blade has stuck himself in between a civil war that is about to tear VoW in two. Emma I know I'm a marked man. That isn't news to me. I know that everyone has their eye on me waiting for me to fall, but I'm not ready yet. I am not ready to relinquish the crown to some goth who uses smoke and mirrors to intimidate. This isn't Emma's House of Horrors. That being said I like the little weapon you used on me the loaded penguin. It's a nice metaphor for you... so tiny on the outside. Cleaned up you could pass as a respectable woman, but past all that your are concrete. Cute, well thought out. The thing is I am not easy deceived, and I am not afraid Emma. I am man I will lay waste with nuclear weapons, I'll pillage the land for oil, I'll rape sons and daughters of opportunity. Like a cockroach I will dodge every stomp of the boot till you grow tired and I can crawl into your ear laying eggs in your soft brain tissues. I learned to stop fearing death long ago. I've learned to accept it at my back. Death is just a breeze, but at Heatstroke it won't provide these people or VoW with any kind of relief. You might call Death Emma, I'll just call it defeated.”
“See the truth is I am going to walk out with my Championship, because it has become the part of the entity that now exists. My mission has been complete and now you are living in my nightmare, my dream scape. I've lined it all out for you... up till this point I’ve brought you both relevance. I've determined your every move. Like it or not I've played you. I was brought here to antagonize, to disrupt this system, and now its time to truly prove that I am steering the ship. You must of heard of the Mason murders. I am not trying to shed light on the situation. I just feel I thought about it different than others growing up. See Manson and dirty band of LSD addicted hippies went into Roman Polanski’s house when he wasn't home and murdered his wife and her house guests. His wife was pregnant at the time. Funny thing, well.. not funny haha I guess.” I laugh to myself lightly in the darkness blowing another billow of smoke. “The funny thing is Manson wasn't even there. His goons carried out the act. Manson didn't actually murder anyone. His idea became bigger than him. He became a whole new entity. You know why he is locked up the rest of his life? It was a sick reminder that the elite are never safe, that the scum of the earth united can burn down your building, murder your children, and rape your wives. The world isn't safe. It's made up of glass houses. No one is safe from the animalistic instincts of the human being. There is one thing that always struck me when he was on trial. They asked him who he thinks he is. Who he thinks he is to be able to inflict this much damage on the world... his response was." English pauses for a moment letting the cigarette glide to the ground. “I'm nobody.” English knocks on the championship ironically letting out a sigh. “If I'm nobody, and I can accomplish all this then what does that make you? Fucking nothing.”
I exit the room, no light comes in when I open the door. I intend it to be that way, just outside that door was darkness. I wanted them to see it as infinite and that's why I let the camera just record. Record there in the darkness hearing only the scurrying of rats and the anxiety of silence. I let the camera record black till the battery was dead.