Post by Bryan Williams on Oct 3, 2020 16:55:15 GMT -5
Look me in the eyes and tell me you’re done here.
Where do you stop? When does this crusade end?
Months ago you were talking, saying that people thought you couldn’t cut it anymore. You were the underdog, and you became the savior.
Where is that guy now?
Are you not content with what you’ve done? You have to go back for seconds?
I need you here, at home, with ME.
When is enough going to be enough, Bryan?
I know what you’re thinking.
Watching this whole thing play out, it’s been a while but you’ve seen this before.
You’re weary of what comes next, seeing me on this couch. Talking to a “professional” to get some help. I misused your trust the last time, I wouldn’t expect you to believe me again.
Bryan Williams seeks help, really?
I can hear the collective eyes rolling inside of your heads, but trust me I’m not telling any lies. At least not right now, I don’t need to lie about anything anymore.
I won’t lie, losing the Union Battleground Championship left me feeling empty inside. I needed to actually get some real help, not just some manifestation living inside of my head.
I watch the doctor in front of me, as she gazes down to her notebook. I should have taken better care to remember her name, I’m going to be seeing her a lot more now. Dr. Montoya, she’s a strong woman by the looks of it. Not physically at least, she really hasn’t put up with any of my shit yet.
I tested her when I walked into her office, she asked me to sit and I stood there.
She looked at me and wouldn’t say another word until I sat down.
Of course this has made things a bit awkward, but first sessions are always awkward. I’m here because I need to get better, she won’t let me down.
“Mr. Williams, looking at your medical history here I’ve seen that you’ve had quite a few concussions before. You’ve also had a couple of voluntary stays in psychiatric facilities, did you find those to be helpful?”
I nod my head. “Yes, I had a therapist before when I was much younger too. That helped for a while, until I realized he was just telling my parents everything I told him.”
I can hear her repulsion, air escaping her lips as they twist and turn in anger. For just one brief second I can see her humanity plain and clear.
Her office is professional, but not overwhelming. I don’t feel like I’m being choked with beige when I sit in here. Nothing out of the ordinary, but the room doesn’t feel sterile either.
I worry about the mask, any second now he’s going to pop up and laugh at me. Tell me this whole thing was a cruel joke.
“Okay Mr. Williams, seems like everything is in order. We can set our first appointment for later this week, how about Friday?”
I shake my head. “I was kind of hoping that we could start as soon as possible, maybe right now?”
She catches me biting at the sides of my fingers. Habit I’ve picked up from my protege, really bad habit. Her face slides into something discomfortable, her scowl tells me the answer I don’t want to hear.
“Mr. Williams, I am very sorry but that’s not how we do things here. I have a lot of people I need to see-”
“Any of them champions?”
“I’m sorry?” She wasn’t expecting this.
“Have any of these people done anything with their life? Honestly.”
“I can’t discuss that with you, and quite frankly that’s a very ru-”
“Honest, not rude. I’m just trying to be honest here. You probably see a lot of folks who’ve been able to enjoy a rather wealthy life, they’re not really suffering. You know it, and you see it all the time. They come to you and whine, hoping to feel better about whatever shitty thing they continue to do. Now you’ve got something real in front of you, something you can really sink your teeth into. I need help here.”
She shakes her head. “And why do your problems supersede all of my other clients?”
“Because I’m in a hurry to do something here, something worthwhile.”
She interjects, for the first time. “To you, maybe. My time is valuable here, and I’m not going to let you dictate how it’s used, Mr. Williams.”
Another stone wall, a dead end. “Besides, you’re completely off base with your observation. I see all kinds of people here, and I have helped countless others throughout my professional career.”
“Okay, so what then? Do I just pick a day and we stick with that?”
She picks up on my sarcasm easily enough. “Yes, generally speaking that is how it usually goes. There’s a co-payment after every meeting, any emergency meetings count for double. If you go out front the receptionist will handle all billing and any questions you might have.”
“Do you think I could do it again?”
I finally caught her off guard. She looks at me funny, unsure of my question.
“I’m sorry? I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Do you think I could become champion again?”
She looks around the office, maybe she thinks she’s being pranked. “I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Williams.”
“I need to get back to where I was. I thought maybe you could help my mindset for that.”
She gathers herself, and then her things. Shuffling papers, moving stuff around her desk. I already know what the deal is, I’m on my feet heading towards the door as she follows me.
“Mr. Williams I’ve dealt with professional athletes before, champions themselves. I can’t say I’m remotely aware of your work, but what I can tell you is that it is mostly mental. If you have the physical capabilities the mental blockage is usually the hardest thing to overcome.”
I scoff. “So you don’t have an answer for me…”
“We’ll discuss this more during our first meeting. I’ll be adequately prepared then, is that fair enough for you?”
I nod my head. I watch her as she turns to leave, she stops herself.
“Mr. Williams, you’re not asking me because you want validation.”
She can see right through me.
“You ask because you want permission for what you need to do next.”
I can’t help but smile.
“I’ll be seeing you next time, doc.”
Do you remember the last time we were here?
“Live from New York City, its the TOO LATE show…”
Fun times.
There’s nothing nostalgic about where we’re going today. No fancy glitches, or scratches on our screen. No sound warping, nothing that really sets the mood for a Bryan Williams promo to be seen here.
There’s an absence, a void can be felt.
When the black of the screen sits there, and you stare at it, you feel a cold chill running up your spine. Something just isn’t right about any of this.
It should be fun, there should be a whole set with an audience just like the last time.
There’s nothing here, not on this sound stage.
Or what’s left of it.
The warehouse owned by Bryan Williams, and used by Miles Lucky, has seen quite a bit of better days. The walls are peeling in some places, and straight up missing in others.
An old ring sits in the middle, right where everything would be normally. Any props, or a stage, would normally go here. The luxuries of owning a warehouse like this allows for interesting shoots when it comes to promo times.
But that’s missing now, there’s just a shell with a missing core now.
A bearded man stands still in the background, hoping that you can’t see him. He watches from behind one of the broken walls.
He doesn’t move or flinch to the sound of the footsteps that we can all hear, growing louder with each step. They echo, uncoordinated, throughout the warehouse as we finally see the reason behind them.
Obviously, it’s Bryan Williams.
Emerging from a shadow, Bryan doesn’t look at the camera as he walks towards the ring. The ring ropes shake, moving dust everywhere as Bryan enters it. A mattress in the middle of the ring quickly gets pushed out.
Bryan dusts his hands off, his demeanour is sour. He’s not dressed like a talk show host this time, he’s dressed like he’s been working for the last twenty-four hours straight.
Messy hair, even messier clothing. A dirty white t-shirt and stained jeans.
He brushes his hands together, trying to clear the dust off.
“So, here we return. It’s good to be back.” He says it in such a way that you know he’s lying, Bryan doesn’t want to be here. Not in this location, not right now. He looks around the state of the warehouse, he can only chuckle as he shakes his head.
“It was only a year ago that I came to Union, in search of something new and a way to jumpstart my career.”
“I needed that push, I needed something to tell me that I was still alive.”
The scene is intercut with Bryan’s title win against Dakota Smith. Holding the UB Championship up high, it almost looks like there’s a glint in Bryan’s eye.
The scene returns to normal, as he rests against the ropes next to him. Even in it’s terrible state it can still support him. “I found it.”
“I stumbled a bit, but even failing in last year’s Guerrilla Warfare showed me that I had exactly what I needed to succeed here.” Bryan says, with the previous shot still lingering in the back of our minds.
“All the tools were at my disposal, and my opponents were just ready to fall under my might. I stepped up, and became the challenger to quickly dethrone Dakota Smith. I took away his reign, and I gave it back to the people.
But just as quickly as my hopes in the Guerrilla Warfare were dashed last year, my hopes of being a long reigning champion were also tarnished.”
There is nothing to compare that too, it seems like the colors are fading away. But they were never really there, go back and look and you’ll see. This place is barren, stripped away of everything that made it useful. Bryan stands inside of a rotten husk, hoping to make something of it.
He looks around the warehouse, regretfully, as he begins to speak again. “Indi took that away from me, both times.”
“I see her now and I can only laugh, she’s put herself in such a dangerous position. And I’m sitting out here on the sidelines, right where I want to be.
This is a process that I’d rather work my way through. I could have been given a chance to get my rematch.”
There’s an audience now, as another man wanders out to join the bearded man watching Bryan. They say nothing, standing there in silence as they stay away in the background.
“I thought about it. Oh boy, did I think about it.” Bryan chuckles.
“Ultimately I decided against it. Being the champion of Union means more to me than anything else right now. Getting an instant rematch wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t prove anything.
No, I have to do this the hard way. I have to fight through it, and get back to where I need to be all on my own. No favors done for me, just blood spilled enough to refresh the balance missing in my life. Even with all the chaos in my life, I need to do this the right way.”
The camera pans and cuts around the warehouse, we see more of the state it really is in. It looks like multiple fires have been set in it. Equipment that was once used properly has been destroyed. A punching bag lays ripped open, it’s insides spilled out onto the floor.
Even the ring that Bryan stands in is a mess, barely put back together in time for this.
“Guerrilla Warfare is just that. It’s exactly the thing that I need right now. It’s all I can focus on now.” Bryan grows quiet for a moment, his head leaning down to rest against the top rope.
It stays that way as he speaks.
“I see the pool of competitors that signed up, and I see a lot of people who think they know what they want. They think that they want to be at the top of Union, but I haven’t seen them try to get there before. They weren’t around to help me when I had my cause. They weren’t challenging me when I was standing at the top.
They’re all cowards. They want the easy way to the top.” He shoots up, standing up straight as he looks into the camera.
“That question continues to rattle around inside of my head. Where were they before? Why weren’t they here with me? These names don’t even deserve to be mentioned. Their names won’t be uttered by my lips. I would rather spit at the ground.”
There’s no hesitation on his part, and with the state of everything around him the spit seems to blend right in.
“People I’ve stepped into the ring with before, shared a ring with before, shared EVERYTHING with before have shown me absolutely zero respect.
All of a sudden, here they are.
Now they want to try for the prize, now that Bryan Williams isn’t around.” Bryan laughs, completely insulted by the thought.
“You’re all fucking pathetic. And now not only will your chances be ruined, but you also have to deal with me. And trust me when I say that I am doing everything in my power to make sure that every single one of you will fail.
There’s not a name on this card that I don’t want to see go down in flames. I wish nothing but the absolute worst for all of you. It goes from the mystery people who want to keep their name a surprise, all the way to those I’ve faced and beaten before in the past. You’re all worthless here, a wasted effort in a lame attempt at capturing glory. Everyone that will step through those ropes will lose any respect I ever had for them. I hate you all with every goddamn fiber in my body. I would make it my mission to make sure that none of you ever see success again...” He says, matter of fact as he trails off.
“But I have business to take care of. I’m the only one in this fucking match that deserves to be there, and I’m going out there to show it. I walk into Denver to show everybody that Bryan Williams is the only qualified person to be in the Guerrilla Warfare match. And for good fucking reason too.” Bryan’s disdain is apparent, it’s vocal and it’s venomous.
“You’ve seen this match and what it can do, and I can’t haunt you all forever but I’m going to make sure that this match will be completely out of your reach. I am going to make sure that your shot at glory is complete fucking waste of your time. Every. Single. One. Of. You.” Bryan draws out the last words, making sure that his message comes across clear as day.
There are no friends here for him.
Only targets.
“It’s one match after all, but that one match makes the difference between me and them. It shows the contrast of just exactly what a year in Union is like. You have all these people showing up, people who don’t even deserve to be here. And then you have me, the man who worked to protect Union Battleground. The man who stopped the corruption right from the inside.” Bryan seems to actually be pleased with that thought, he nods his head as he gives himself a mental pat on the back.
“I got what I wanted from it. I saved Union Battleground, and now I’m going to do this for myself. There’s no need for a hero anymore, there’s only a need from me. A need to be a champion again. A need to be back on top in this company.” Bryan’s emphasis continues to grow, a small thought that lit like a match in his mind has turned into a bonfire now.
And it’s spreading.
“I look at everyone else, and I know that this journey isn’t going to be the same for them. I know what you’re thinking, you look at me and see somebody who’s already gotten his success. Why should I be greedy when it comes to being the Union Battleground Champion?
I want more, it’s simply not enough anymore. Just getting to the top isn’t enough for me anymore. I’ve seen what I can do, and by holding myself back I continue to keep myself from being the best in this business. No more, I can’t do it anymore. I won’t fucking do it anymore. That Bryan Williams is fucking dead, long gone and buried six feet deep.”
Bryan fixates on the camera, his eyes almost piercing right through the screen. It’s a look we’ve all seen before, the soldier that comes back home completely changed.
The thousand yard stare.
He grins. “Time and time again I let myself become the victim to my own actions. I shouldn’t even be in this position right now, but I let Indi beat me. I did the same thing I’ve always done, and I paid the price for it yet again.”
He lays it out bluntly. “That’s going to change.”
“Because now she sits at the top, and I see the infestation this place has. This place is infested with those who want an easy way to the top. Whether or not Drell demolishes Indi doesn’t matter, because this is the way to victory. Dakota showed everyone that last year, and now they’re here because of him. They see his example, and they want a part of it. They see Guerrilla Warfare as a proving ground, they think that by winning this match they’re absolved of all their sins.
They’re right about one thing, this is the proving ground. But they’re still sinners.
I was stripped clean of everything I had worked for, I have gotten my penance here in this company. I am no longer a sinner, I look down on those that do. It doesn’t matter to me who holds the title, because I have to get back up now. I have to get back to where I was.” He says with such vigour. Bryan leans against the ropes, dirtying his shirt even more. He looks like he’s about to bounce off of the walls, he cannot wait much longer for this match to get here.
“And just like last year I’m not going to let this match define me, or what I want to do.
I didn’t worry about it before, and I’m not going to worry about it now.
It’s about sending a message this time.”
He stares into the camera. Bryan doesn’t move a muscle as he speaks.
In a trance, this is where he is allowing himself to go.
“I’m not unsure anymore, I know where my place is in this business. I’m at the top, I’m the best in this company and I show it every time I step into the ring.
And now you all get to watch this happen all over again.
There is no rise and fall of Bryan Williams.”
Bryan smirks. “I live, I die, I live again.”
“So when you watch me come out to that ring, and you see the violence I bring with my own two hands don’t be shocked. Be grateful that you experienced it so soon. Be glad that you were one of the lucky ones, because after this it just gets worse. I’m going to make it so much worse, I promise you that.”
The screen shakes, tearing at the bottom. The two men that were watching this whole time are gone now. Lights begin to go out, one by one inside of the warehouse.
“The ones that stand in my way will suffer.” Another light goes out. The screen glitches.
We see the mask.
“They will be punished.” Almost all of the lights are gone.
Bryan has been replaced. The mask stands there in the ring, his baseball bat runs red.
The canvas is stained now.
“And there isn’t anything any of you can do about it.”
The mask doesn’t move as the last light goes out.
There’s nothing left to say.
The scene ends, as we leave how we started.
Looking into the void.