Post by Deamon Cohln on Aug 12, 2006 22:00:18 GMT -5
(Look carefully for metaphors. I was just in that mood.)
*Deamon is sitting in he chair, his fist clenched in rage. It had been building within him since the change from OTB to HWF. He has tried to hold it in for the longest time, but it’s becoming a burden to his mind. He is a giant killer, but there is a giant that is so big that even he can not overcome it. It consumes him and forces his own character to be slain and pushed around in ways he does not choose. He once thought that he controlled his fate. He was wrong.*
Deamon: I am the giant killer. I have taken down men that are far larger then I have ever hoped to be. I am stuck at 5’10” and proud of my size, agility, speed and even my true strength. But there is a giant that is not within my ability to destroy. That giant is a controlling power that make me do things. I hate this power. 5 men who are beyond corrupt and decide our fates based on a bias and a want to rebuild the past. Something they loved has died and they want to recreate it bit by bit. But they are leaving something behind. They are leaving the men who have fought there rightful way to the top. They are leaving me, Bard, Jake, and others behind that made OTB and HWF. They bring in new guys who stay a week then forget we even exist. Do you remember EZ Punk? Do you remember Soldado Fortun? You don’t. You guys don’t care about history or justice. You only go by your agenda. You go by your ways of thinking while leaving the ones who actually have a new idea or a new thought behind. You only go by the tried and true. That will ultimately lead you to your demise.
*Deamon stands up and looks at a wall. Holes are riddled on it as if someone had been beating on it mercilessly. Like they were releasing anger at the wall instead of themselves. After close examination, five names can be seen written on the wall but they are now illegible with the holes and fist-prints. Yet, one name can slightly be made out: “President Hudson”*
Deamon: Yes. The leader. The one that is solely responsible for the pentumvirate. They are the ones that do not know what powers they are trifling with. I am not one to be taken lightly even if I am small in stature and weight. I have taken down entire companies before. I had AWS bowing before me. I had the minions of EWWF bowing before there true leader. I had WLW recognizing my true power. Now, Hudson and HWF think they can undermine my power. They will be sorely mistaken once my true colors come right out in the open.
*Deamon walks into the next room. A katana is hanging in the room on a rope in the center. A gigantic piece of wood is on the other side. It was the WWA logo and the HWF logo fused together, hooked at one point and the rest by itself.*
Deamon: I know that might have been a good time for you boys, but time goes by, wounds heal, we must move on. I’m tired of seeing old guys that were there come in here and take spots of HWF originals like me and force me to the side and make us look like stupid mid-carders. It gets fucking tiring. It makes me a little agitated sometimes. It drives me to do things I don’t want to do, but the force outside makes me do those things. I didn’t want to attack Bard, and while it may have been necessary, Bard may be one of the only guys in this fed I actually fucking respect. But that little conversation will be held off for a little later.
*He holds up the katana and taps the edge of it. It makes a nice metallic clang and it reverberates all around the room in a intimate echo. Deamon smiles at the sheer power he holds in his hands. It’s almost poetic. He swings the blade lightly and the splitting of the air makes a ominous swooshing sound. He looks at the board with the logos and it becomes obvious what he is intending.*
Deamon: It gets annoying. Just plain annoying. I deserved my shot at BomberJake right after OTB. But somehow Saul Hudsen steps in front of me. Then that ends, I think I actually get my fucking shot. But no! He has to book a tournament. He makes it so me and BomberJake fight in the semi-finals! What kinda booking is that! You want to put asses in those damn seats you put the two best guys you got out there and let us beat the hell out of each other. But no. You set some mystical magic fairy up for his title shot. Stepping in front of me again! It make me angry. It makes me loase my mind even more then it was already going. I swear to god, the next person who steps in front of me, will have this katana straight through his little fairy stomach. Then I will pull them out and chew on his goddamn intestines while I laughs with a little trail of blood dribbling off of my chin as you fall and black out TO THE ABYSS!
*He steps toward the board and swings the blade. The board is split in two right down the seam between the two logos. He laughs at the splinter hit the wall and the board falls back. He pulls out a match book and a bottle of lighter fluid. He sprays the fluid all over the board and the room. He steps out of it and takes a hold of the metal door. We now realize that the entire room is coated with metal. It seems as the room was made for the purpose.*
Deamon: I’m going to be remanded for this and I’ll probably never be able to compete for the goddamn title again. You know what? I DON’T CARE ANYMORE. I’ve lost it. What little sanity I had left has been fucking thrown out the window. Do you know what also? I LOVE THIS ME! I love to see myself not care how bad I hurt someone. I beat Bard twice. I have to face him and some wetback loser again in a cage. A cage. DO YOU REALLY WANT TO LOCK ME IN A CAGE! Would you lock a rhino in a cage with a dozen rabid monkeys? Do you eve n know what I’m talking about anymore? Do I even know what I’m talking about anymore. No, this is just another fucking byproduct of the stress I have had put on me throughout this entire fucked-up ordeal. There is one thing that can make me feel a little better though. Gold. Gold on one shoulder, and soon enough, Gold on the other shoulder. I will earn them both and defend them both, be it I have to go through Jake, Flame, Bard, the other guy. I will end up at the top of the ladder. Even if the pentumvirate holds me down. AND THAT’S THE GODDAMN TRUTH.
*Deamon drops a match and the flames immediately flare up around the room. The wood starts to crackle and burn down to the ashes. Deamon lets off and evil laugh as the flames consume the sign. The door shuts and the flames burn down. Deamon is nowhere to be seen but as the camera pans back to the list of names. There is now a giant pentagram and little embers align the outline. It is a warning. A omen. It screams “listen and heed my warning…*
*Deamon is sitting in he chair, his fist clenched in rage. It had been building within him since the change from OTB to HWF. He has tried to hold it in for the longest time, but it’s becoming a burden to his mind. He is a giant killer, but there is a giant that is so big that even he can not overcome it. It consumes him and forces his own character to be slain and pushed around in ways he does not choose. He once thought that he controlled his fate. He was wrong.*
Deamon: I am the giant killer. I have taken down men that are far larger then I have ever hoped to be. I am stuck at 5’10” and proud of my size, agility, speed and even my true strength. But there is a giant that is not within my ability to destroy. That giant is a controlling power that make me do things. I hate this power. 5 men who are beyond corrupt and decide our fates based on a bias and a want to rebuild the past. Something they loved has died and they want to recreate it bit by bit. But they are leaving something behind. They are leaving the men who have fought there rightful way to the top. They are leaving me, Bard, Jake, and others behind that made OTB and HWF. They bring in new guys who stay a week then forget we even exist. Do you remember EZ Punk? Do you remember Soldado Fortun? You don’t. You guys don’t care about history or justice. You only go by your agenda. You go by your ways of thinking while leaving the ones who actually have a new idea or a new thought behind. You only go by the tried and true. That will ultimately lead you to your demise.
*Deamon stands up and looks at a wall. Holes are riddled on it as if someone had been beating on it mercilessly. Like they were releasing anger at the wall instead of themselves. After close examination, five names can be seen written on the wall but they are now illegible with the holes and fist-prints. Yet, one name can slightly be made out: “President Hudson”*
Deamon: Yes. The leader. The one that is solely responsible for the pentumvirate. They are the ones that do not know what powers they are trifling with. I am not one to be taken lightly even if I am small in stature and weight. I have taken down entire companies before. I had AWS bowing before me. I had the minions of EWWF bowing before there true leader. I had WLW recognizing my true power. Now, Hudson and HWF think they can undermine my power. They will be sorely mistaken once my true colors come right out in the open.
*Deamon walks into the next room. A katana is hanging in the room on a rope in the center. A gigantic piece of wood is on the other side. It was the WWA logo and the HWF logo fused together, hooked at one point and the rest by itself.*
Deamon: I know that might have been a good time for you boys, but time goes by, wounds heal, we must move on. I’m tired of seeing old guys that were there come in here and take spots of HWF originals like me and force me to the side and make us look like stupid mid-carders. It gets fucking tiring. It makes me a little agitated sometimes. It drives me to do things I don’t want to do, but the force outside makes me do those things. I didn’t want to attack Bard, and while it may have been necessary, Bard may be one of the only guys in this fed I actually fucking respect. But that little conversation will be held off for a little later.
*He holds up the katana and taps the edge of it. It makes a nice metallic clang and it reverberates all around the room in a intimate echo. Deamon smiles at the sheer power he holds in his hands. It’s almost poetic. He swings the blade lightly and the splitting of the air makes a ominous swooshing sound. He looks at the board with the logos and it becomes obvious what he is intending.*
Deamon: It gets annoying. Just plain annoying. I deserved my shot at BomberJake right after OTB. But somehow Saul Hudsen steps in front of me. Then that ends, I think I actually get my fucking shot. But no! He has to book a tournament. He makes it so me and BomberJake fight in the semi-finals! What kinda booking is that! You want to put asses in those damn seats you put the two best guys you got out there and let us beat the hell out of each other. But no. You set some mystical magic fairy up for his title shot. Stepping in front of me again! It make me angry. It makes me loase my mind even more then it was already going. I swear to god, the next person who steps in front of me, will have this katana straight through his little fairy stomach. Then I will pull them out and chew on his goddamn intestines while I laughs with a little trail of blood dribbling off of my chin as you fall and black out TO THE ABYSS!
*He steps toward the board and swings the blade. The board is split in two right down the seam between the two logos. He laughs at the splinter hit the wall and the board falls back. He pulls out a match book and a bottle of lighter fluid. He sprays the fluid all over the board and the room. He steps out of it and takes a hold of the metal door. We now realize that the entire room is coated with metal. It seems as the room was made for the purpose.*
Deamon: I’m going to be remanded for this and I’ll probably never be able to compete for the goddamn title again. You know what? I DON’T CARE ANYMORE. I’ve lost it. What little sanity I had left has been fucking thrown out the window. Do you know what also? I LOVE THIS ME! I love to see myself not care how bad I hurt someone. I beat Bard twice. I have to face him and some wetback loser again in a cage. A cage. DO YOU REALLY WANT TO LOCK ME IN A CAGE! Would you lock a rhino in a cage with a dozen rabid monkeys? Do you eve n know what I’m talking about anymore? Do I even know what I’m talking about anymore. No, this is just another fucking byproduct of the stress I have had put on me throughout this entire fucked-up ordeal. There is one thing that can make me feel a little better though. Gold. Gold on one shoulder, and soon enough, Gold on the other shoulder. I will earn them both and defend them both, be it I have to go through Jake, Flame, Bard, the other guy. I will end up at the top of the ladder. Even if the pentumvirate holds me down. AND THAT’S THE GODDAMN TRUTH.
*Deamon drops a match and the flames immediately flare up around the room. The wood starts to crackle and burn down to the ashes. Deamon lets off and evil laugh as the flames consume the sign. The door shuts and the flames burn down. Deamon is nowhere to be seen but as the camera pans back to the list of names. There is now a giant pentagram and little embers align the outline. It is a warning. A omen. It screams “listen and heed my warning…*