Post by Bryan Williams on Mar 21, 2021 9:32:31 GMT -5
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
The sound of the concrete breaking from his hammer, cracking under its own will. He has been here before. Time and time again, almost like reliving the same day over and over again.
He’ll be here again, and again.
Waking up to do it all again, his broken body aches with every swing of the hammer.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Bryan stands there, in the confines of his warehouse. No Miles to run around and break things anymore. He had run off, found his own way. His own place to live in. Bryan was alone again, finding solitude in the one place he could keep to himself.
To repeat the same mistakes over and over again.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
The ground beneath him shifted, it was slowly being chipped away. Pieces of concrete flew in so many directions, it was controlled chaos. The foundation under his feet being changed yet again, like so many times before.
These few square feet were made for this purpose. It had been determined long ago, this would be their job.
Their purpose.
He lifted the hammer again, ready to bring it down on the space in front of him.
But he wouldn’t, it wasn’t necessary anymore. Looking at the ground below him, Bryan would bend down and use his hand to wipe away the dust and mess. Something soft was waiting for him, a black bag.
Reaching down, ever so slowly, Bryan would take his time to grab the bag that waited for him. Stuck right there, unable to move without his help. It was going nowhere and everywhere at the same time.
It had been here before.
Taking the bag back into his possession, he reaches in and pulls out the latex rooster mask we’ve all grown accustomed to by now. It was his face, their face.
He had been here before.
“Elena Dedraca, Kaven Drell, Kaelan Laughlin, Miles Lucky.”
The warehouse changes, the video we watch glitches and warps as Bryan takes a seat. He lets out a heavy sigh, a moment for his body to finally relax.
“These are the legacies that I carry with this title, legacies I don’t mind hauling around. I don’t mind having the reminder, the pressure to always be greater. But know that there is a means to an end here, I’m not here to be the greatest War Horse champion in Union history. This is a tool, this is a way for me to break this cycle.”
Bryan looks down at the hammer that was in his hand, now the War Horse championship has taken its place. He brings it in front of him, allowing it to rest over his knees.
“This is my way back to the Union championship, but you already knew that. I knew that winning this title would give me the tool I needed to do that, with the Trench War championship attached at the hip. I had my way in, my excuse. But, Emery, you knew that too.”
Bryan laughs to himself, thinking for a moment.
“So what don’t you know?”
Bryan stands up, shooting to his feet as the chair gets pushed backward. Flying behind him, it clatters against the ground as he holds the War Horse championship towards the camera.
“I KNOW what I needed people to know, there’s no coming back from the dead. Your career is over, it flatlined two years ago. You are not going to restart it over me, not now and not ever.”
“Becoming the face of Union requires great sacrifice, and while I could get Miles at his lowest I know that this is more important. Everybody knows this, they see exactly what’s going on here now.”
Bryan looks at the broken ground at his feet. The square foot he’s allowed himself to destroy, over and over again.
“I mean, my opponent obviously knows the importance of what’s around my waist. What’s in my possession is the key, and now I’ve become the gatekeeper.”
He looks at the War Horse championship in his hands.
“So Emery, while you were busy asking questions about “what-ifs” I was preparing myself. I stood there knowing that I was taking a moment, a moment that should have been historic. Something that would have set this whole company ablaze, the hype and media alone would have rocketed us into the stratosphere.”
Bryan shakes his head, hatred at the idea presented by his own words. Betrayed by his own mouth.
“You were asking so many questions, Emery, you forgot the most important one.”
Almost like he walks in a circle, Bryan is right back to where the chair was before. He grabs it, placing it back in its original position before taking a seat.
“Should I allow this? Should I just go with the same thing I have before? Back right in this position again, it seems like every day is the same for me. Constantly having to deal with the same bullshit, the same people wanting the same things. Time and time again, I’m reliving it all every single day. Emery, I ask you should I just keep going? Emery, I’m asking you a question here.”
Bryan pauses, for a moment. He waits there like he’s already asked this question before, he waits for an answer that isn’t coming.
“I should be so lucky, right? I should be so grateful to be put in a position with a legacy such as yours. I should be distracted by how quirky and cool you are, I shouldn’t be wondering what exactly you’ve accomplished here in the last few months to deserve this opportunity. I mean, it wasn’t like the last time you were actually relevant was three years ago.”
Bryan laughs again.
“No, Emery, you haven’t earned this opportunity. On the contrary, I’ve allowed you to have this match. I’ve asked for you to be in this position, standing across the ring before me. I don’t give a fuck about having a “super match”, or a once in a lifetime opportunity. I have my chance to break the cycle. So while I continue to create my legacy, I’m going to deny yours. I couldn’t do what I’m about to do without doing this first. I wasn’t just going to move on without beating you, Emery.”
Bryan grabs the mask, for a moment the scene glitches and we see him wearing it. He places it into the bag, as he lets the bag drop back into the ground.
“I’m going to break it. And I’m going to break you, and the legacy that you’ve been dragging behind you this whole time.”
Bryan kicks pieces of concrete and dirt back into the hole he made, an attempt to cover up the bag once again.
“Like a child with its safety blanket, you really think that people care about what you have to offer anymore? You left Union behind, and it pushed forward without you. This isn’t the place you remember anymore, this isn’t the place you belong to anymore.”
The ground still cracked and broken at his feet, Bryan bends down to survey the situation in front of him. He pauses, thinking to himself.
“No, coasting by on your name isn’t going to cut it.” He says while shaking his head.
Bryan stands back up, hesitating for a moment. A thought creeps into his head, and slowly he begins to smile.
“I can’t wait to watch you get into that ring, I can’t wait to see you struggle to stay afloat. The water creeps slowly over your head, as you gasp and fight for every single breath. I can’t wait for it, Emery.”
Lightning crashes outside of the warehouse, it fills the entire scene with bright white light for a brief moment. A storm has arrived, almost out of nowhere.
“Because that’s when the downpour comes.”
Rain clatters against the roof of the warehouse, a stark contrast from the near silence we had before. It doesn’t seem to bother Bryan, as he continues to talk.
“That’s when I hurt you the most, I’m going to break your legacy. I’m going to dismantle and destroy every single thing you’ve ever fought for in your pathetic career. All that hard work you put yourself through was all for nothing. I’m going to take it, and break free from this cycle.”
Looking down at the War Horse championship, Bryan reaches for it once again.
“And you’re going to do nothing but watch, you’re going to watch it all go down. You’re going to watch as you’re left broken and hopeless, without a chance to renew whatever piece is left. You’re going to watch me become the Union Battleground champion once again.”
The championship is gone, returning in its place is the hammer.
“I can’t wait, I cannot wait Emery.”
Bryan takes a step forward, gripping the hammer as he had before. The camera catches a glimpse of the floor beneath him, now restored to its former self.
“I’ve been in this hell long enough, I’ve been in this cycle long enough. No more, no more legacies that I let pass right through me. No more names that get revived and reinstated because of who I used to be.”
His body shakes, as he raises it over his head. He pauses himself, stopping to say one last thing before the scene turns to black.
“All that’s left is the conquest, the man that’s going to erase you from history.”
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
The sound of the concrete breaking from his hammer, cracking under its own will. He has been here before.
Thud.
Thud.
The sound of the concrete breaking from his hammer, cracking under its own will. He has been here before. Time and time again, almost like reliving the same day over and over again.
He’ll be here again, and again.
Waking up to do it all again, his broken body aches with every swing of the hammer.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Bryan stands there, in the confines of his warehouse. No Miles to run around and break things anymore. He had run off, found his own way. His own place to live in. Bryan was alone again, finding solitude in the one place he could keep to himself.
To repeat the same mistakes over and over again.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
The ground beneath him shifted, it was slowly being chipped away. Pieces of concrete flew in so many directions, it was controlled chaos. The foundation under his feet being changed yet again, like so many times before.
These few square feet were made for this purpose. It had been determined long ago, this would be their job.
Their purpose.
He lifted the hammer again, ready to bring it down on the space in front of him.
But he wouldn’t, it wasn’t necessary anymore. Looking at the ground below him, Bryan would bend down and use his hand to wipe away the dust and mess. Something soft was waiting for him, a black bag.
Reaching down, ever so slowly, Bryan would take his time to grab the bag that waited for him. Stuck right there, unable to move without his help. It was going nowhere and everywhere at the same time.
It had been here before.
Taking the bag back into his possession, he reaches in and pulls out the latex rooster mask we’ve all grown accustomed to by now. It was his face, their face.
He had been here before.
“Elena Dedraca, Kaven Drell, Kaelan Laughlin, Miles Lucky.”
The warehouse changes, the video we watch glitches and warps as Bryan takes a seat. He lets out a heavy sigh, a moment for his body to finally relax.
“These are the legacies that I carry with this title, legacies I don’t mind hauling around. I don’t mind having the reminder, the pressure to always be greater. But know that there is a means to an end here, I’m not here to be the greatest War Horse champion in Union history. This is a tool, this is a way for me to break this cycle.”
Bryan looks down at the hammer that was in his hand, now the War Horse championship has taken its place. He brings it in front of him, allowing it to rest over his knees.
“This is my way back to the Union championship, but you already knew that. I knew that winning this title would give me the tool I needed to do that, with the Trench War championship attached at the hip. I had my way in, my excuse. But, Emery, you knew that too.”
Bryan laughs to himself, thinking for a moment.
“So what don’t you know?”
Bryan stands up, shooting to his feet as the chair gets pushed backward. Flying behind him, it clatters against the ground as he holds the War Horse championship towards the camera.
“I KNOW what I needed people to know, there’s no coming back from the dead. Your career is over, it flatlined two years ago. You are not going to restart it over me, not now and not ever.”
“Becoming the face of Union requires great sacrifice, and while I could get Miles at his lowest I know that this is more important. Everybody knows this, they see exactly what’s going on here now.”
Bryan looks at the broken ground at his feet. The square foot he’s allowed himself to destroy, over and over again.
“I mean, my opponent obviously knows the importance of what’s around my waist. What’s in my possession is the key, and now I’ve become the gatekeeper.”
He looks at the War Horse championship in his hands.
“So Emery, while you were busy asking questions about “what-ifs” I was preparing myself. I stood there knowing that I was taking a moment, a moment that should have been historic. Something that would have set this whole company ablaze, the hype and media alone would have rocketed us into the stratosphere.”
Bryan shakes his head, hatred at the idea presented by his own words. Betrayed by his own mouth.
“You were asking so many questions, Emery, you forgot the most important one.”
Almost like he walks in a circle, Bryan is right back to where the chair was before. He grabs it, placing it back in its original position before taking a seat.
“Should I allow this? Should I just go with the same thing I have before? Back right in this position again, it seems like every day is the same for me. Constantly having to deal with the same bullshit, the same people wanting the same things. Time and time again, I’m reliving it all every single day. Emery, I ask you should I just keep going? Emery, I’m asking you a question here.”
Bryan pauses, for a moment. He waits there like he’s already asked this question before, he waits for an answer that isn’t coming.
“I should be so lucky, right? I should be so grateful to be put in a position with a legacy such as yours. I should be distracted by how quirky and cool you are, I shouldn’t be wondering what exactly you’ve accomplished here in the last few months to deserve this opportunity. I mean, it wasn’t like the last time you were actually relevant was three years ago.”
Bryan laughs again.
“No, Emery, you haven’t earned this opportunity. On the contrary, I’ve allowed you to have this match. I’ve asked for you to be in this position, standing across the ring before me. I don’t give a fuck about having a “super match”, or a once in a lifetime opportunity. I have my chance to break the cycle. So while I continue to create my legacy, I’m going to deny yours. I couldn’t do what I’m about to do without doing this first. I wasn’t just going to move on without beating you, Emery.”
Bryan grabs the mask, for a moment the scene glitches and we see him wearing it. He places it into the bag, as he lets the bag drop back into the ground.
“I’m going to break it. And I’m going to break you, and the legacy that you’ve been dragging behind you this whole time.”
Bryan kicks pieces of concrete and dirt back into the hole he made, an attempt to cover up the bag once again.
“Like a child with its safety blanket, you really think that people care about what you have to offer anymore? You left Union behind, and it pushed forward without you. This isn’t the place you remember anymore, this isn’t the place you belong to anymore.”
The ground still cracked and broken at his feet, Bryan bends down to survey the situation in front of him. He pauses, thinking to himself.
“No, coasting by on your name isn’t going to cut it.” He says while shaking his head.
Bryan stands back up, hesitating for a moment. A thought creeps into his head, and slowly he begins to smile.
“I can’t wait to watch you get into that ring, I can’t wait to see you struggle to stay afloat. The water creeps slowly over your head, as you gasp and fight for every single breath. I can’t wait for it, Emery.”
Lightning crashes outside of the warehouse, it fills the entire scene with bright white light for a brief moment. A storm has arrived, almost out of nowhere.
“Because that’s when the downpour comes.”
Rain clatters against the roof of the warehouse, a stark contrast from the near silence we had before. It doesn’t seem to bother Bryan, as he continues to talk.
“That’s when I hurt you the most, I’m going to break your legacy. I’m going to dismantle and destroy every single thing you’ve ever fought for in your pathetic career. All that hard work you put yourself through was all for nothing. I’m going to take it, and break free from this cycle.”
Looking down at the War Horse championship, Bryan reaches for it once again.
“And you’re going to do nothing but watch, you’re going to watch it all go down. You’re going to watch as you’re left broken and hopeless, without a chance to renew whatever piece is left. You’re going to watch me become the Union Battleground champion once again.”
The championship is gone, returning in its place is the hammer.
“I can’t wait, I cannot wait Emery.”
Bryan takes a step forward, gripping the hammer as he had before. The camera catches a glimpse of the floor beneath him, now restored to its former self.
“I’ve been in this hell long enough, I’ve been in this cycle long enough. No more, no more legacies that I let pass right through me. No more names that get revived and reinstated because of who I used to be.”
His body shakes, as he raises it over his head. He pauses himself, stopping to say one last thing before the scene turns to black.
“All that’s left is the conquest, the man that’s going to erase you from history.”
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
The sound of the concrete breaking from his hammer, cracking under its own will. He has been here before.
