Post by English/Corpse on Aug 20, 2014 16:24:23 GMT -6
VOW Presents
A Casanova English Original
Secret Admirer
Her nails push deep into my skin as I
trusted furiously, trying with all I had to show her that she was
mine. I'm always hearing fucking and fighting is all the same. It's
that passion, that need to release aggression. Weather it be daddy
issues, or drug addiction you can go out and leave it all there in a
square double wide mattress. Well, maybe that's why Kim and I never
fought. If there was one thing she knew how to do it was to. . .
relieve stress. I wrap one hand around the back of her head and push
myself I release all my tension falling like a crumbling heap on the
panting body beneath me. Gently I roll my body off of hers. Her white
untanned skin almost glows in the dark. She's the kind of girl you
find on web-cams. My hand finds the blue pack of cigarettes on the
bedside table. I place one in my lips. I think that is why I started
smoking so much, no woman. . . does it for me like she did. No
matter how many whores I fuck in a pool of booze. I offer the blue
eyed blonde a cancer stick and she waves her hand declining. No
matter the depraved sexual adventures I embark on, I can't get that
feeling back. I can't absorb it. . . I don't remember what it tastes
like.
Love
“You have to leave. . .”
I say bluntly blowing a puff of smoke
into the air.
“Excuse me?”
I clear my throat taking another haul.
“I said, you have to get the fuck out
of here. I have a match to prepare for.”
“I thought that you just PLAYED an
asshole on TV.”
“Nope.”
I pick up a pair of her black panties
that still reek of her former excitement. I lob them at her face
smirking as she grabs them off the tip of her nose. She mumbles
profanities as she ruffles through her things, completely disgusted
that I had the audacity to toss her out of here right after
finishing. That's the thing though. I can't afford distractions I am
in it for one thing and one thing only. She pulls a skirt up over her
left ass cheek, that still has teeth marks in it from four play. I'm
an asshole, but I am a gentlemen when I want to be. She struts out
the door slamming it behind her. I laugh before rising to my feet and
going to the window. I still want to make sure she makes it on her
way.
There they are again. What in the fuck.
Across the street from my hotel is a
girl, a girl in a Guy Faux mask. The same girl, she has the same
build. . . the same intense stare. What could she want? I narrow my
eyes, and turn around making it toward the door. I walk briskly down
the steps floor after floor.
“I knew you where kidding . . .”
The whore says as I brush her aside
rushing to get to the outside, to seek this intriguing person I
managed to inspire with my words of The Revolution. I must see who
they are. I bust through the bottom door. Across the street. . .
people walking, but no girl. No girl in a mask, no one wearing the
same clothing. . .
“Hey, did you see a girl in a mask?”
I ask a man walking down the street. He
ignores me waving a hand around the cloud of cigarette smoke I locked
him in. The man behind him is kind enough to answer.
“Nah, there was no girl there man.
Not that I noticed anyway. Maybe, your just seein' shit. Getting more
and more common these days.”
I shake my head walking across the
street. I take a look around once more in all directions, but there
is no trace. Maybe I am loosing it. Maybe I want someone to hear my
words so bad I am inventing people on my head. I look at my watch,
it's 3:00am the streets are dead opposed to a few people walking home
from a night out. My lady of the evening pops out of the door I did
not long ago. I wave to her from across the street cigarette in hand,
she rightfully flips me off in return.
It must be the booze, the pot, I'm
tired, or all three combined. It will all be more clear in the
morning.
I toss back the tail end of a blue
power aid before throwing the empty bottle into the trash as I walk
down the street. I'm getting really fucking tired of Minnesota. I
walk my first steps onto the High Bridge, behind me in the distance
is downtown St. Paul. Car's pass close by as I try and keep from
throwing up. There is one thing I have learned, it's as you get older
hang overs stop being a one day thing and tend to float on into the
next. I inhale the air, it's different over the water then it is in
down town St. Paul. It doesn't seem so thick. It enters and exits the
lungs effortlessly. I keep walking along the bridge. This week on
Exposure I was successful in rebounding in my impressive defeat of
Stacy Jones. I may not be the Xcel Champion, but I am sure it's not
far from my clutches. Regardless with every win, I show them. They
are forced to listen to a man who has proved himself time and time
again to be the future. That is what it comes to again at Exposure
this week. In the main event the absent minded wrestling fans will
witness Reya Serra vs Casanova English too. The Modern Day Messiah vs
The Herald of Holiness. She wants to defend her ancient ways of life,
and me. . . I want to bring us into a new reality. I want to bring us
into a new age. I continue to walk along the bridge, it is
surprisingly chilly, but I cam prepared dressed in a plain back hoody
and jeans. I pull a pack of cigarettes from my pocket. I pull a
single white stick from the pack removing it from it's brothers, I
light the tip of it with a sliver Zippo lighter. I take that fist
succulent deep inhale.
I stop dead when I reach the exact
middle of the bridge. I look down over the edge, it is such a long
fall to the water beneath. If you jumped though hitting that water
would be a hell of a lot like hitting pavement. I flick a few ashes
off over the edge of the bridge. I find a nice place to perch the
camera so that I can get the beautiful downtown St. Paul skyline in
the frame. I don't press record quite yet though. I take another haul
off the cigarette, trying to help regain my composure. The past few
weeks I haven't been showing these people my best, but my worst is
likely good enough for these idiotic fans. I push the record button
and step back into frame with the coffin nail hanging from my mouth.
“Well you just can't keep a good boy
down! That is what Stacy Jones learned really quick at Exposure. I
know you people wanted to believe that the slaughtering of World
Champions, that the domination of the Xcel Tournament was all some
fucked up lucky streak. I know you all though that after my massive
loss to PKA I would be set back. I wouldn't be able to focus like I
did before. Well . . . you were all wrong. Stacy thought that I had
something to prove, you people thought that I had something to prove.
Ha. . . I owe you people nothing.”
I let out a snicker.
“Now. . .now Frei wants to stick his
nose into my business with Star. Now it is all coming together you
capitalist pig. You think that I won't touch Star? Ha. . . why
wouldn't I? Why wouldn't I just take away a match that is going to
draw in a whole new fan base to VOW? Some people just want to watch
the world burn. If you corner a scorpion. . . it has no other choice
but to strike. The funny thing is I want this match. I want this
match and it is going to eat Star's soul knowing that he can't lay a
hand on a man that has already took his woman, and already left him
in a pool of his own immortal blood. I will defeat Star at Armed and
Dangerous. I will burn their hero. The truth is a piece of paper
won't stop me. I will do whatever I want. I am your source to a
steady income Frei. Like it or not. . . I AM THE VISION!”
I lick my teeth before taking another
short puff off of my addiction.
“You know suicide is one of the worst
sins. It is a ticket straight to hell. Reya would know about this
topic quite well I would like to think. I mean she is The Herald of
Holiness. Well this High Bridge here in St. Paul has become a hot
spot for people to just end it. People hop off this edge and die on
impact their broken crumbled bodies float off down stream. For a
society that had a man die for their sins, they still feel pretty
fucking guilty it seems. You know that knowledge is the chief
opposition of religion. Now. . . Reya might find me saying that
ignorant, but let's really think about it. Adam and Eve eat from the
tree of knowledge, knowledge is power, God hates power. He hates
knowledge and power. Now why? He hates knowledge because it proves
his follies, he hates power because now it is in the hands of man and
not him. Not saying that we are responsible enough to be in charge,
but my main point in education is evil. Well according to a handbook
that is hundreds and hundreds of years old.”
“Anyway in the story of Adam and Eve
it is Eve a woman that causes the fall of man. Now some people want
to say that is was the snake. The snake that came up and charmed her,
and convinced her to eat the fruit, and in turn provide that fruit to
Adam. Now the VOW fan's might want to think that I am the man in
this, that Serra will cause my downfall. I'm not the man, I am the
fucking snake. I am the manipulator and I will infect Serra, and I
will bring the rest of VOW down with it.”
“Serra we are not that much
different. You want to protect the godliness in the world. You want
to spread the word of God, or maybe just even the fact that we should
respect him. You paint things so black and fucking white. See I go to
that ring each week and I fight for my view. I fight for my religion.
I fight for a future for a place where God lives inside all of us
already. We are the God's of our own fates. I am the second coming
Serra. I go in there each week, and I put my life on the line for
THEIR SINS!”
“How has being holy working for you?
Did it win you the Xcel Championship, did it stop Iser's reign of
terror? Serra I am a new breed, I am something that you have never
seen before. I come to spread my gospel. I come to preach and spread
the word of English. So hold your cross, pray at night, keep that
bible close, because I am prepared and ready to Expose that no deity
has your back, and if he does. . . well. . .'
“I am The Modern Day Messiah”
I take the final puff off my cigarette
getting closer to the camera I lean in and whisper with the St. Paul
skyline at my back.
“So come. . . crucify me.”
I flick the camera off and toss the
butt of my cigarette off the bridge. I close my eyes for a second,
but I feel something on me. . . eyes. I turn and look to the left,
nothing just a small line of fog accumulating at that far end of the
bridge. I look the the right, and there she is so far away, that god
damn white mask still hiding her face.