Post by Deleted on May 8, 2017 21:37:11 GMT -5
(The slow crawl of darkness escaping the camera’s feed greets Union Battleground as they look on to another video production. When the full footage has been revealed, the truth strikes fast and hard. There was no escape from the darkness. In fact, the darkness had only taken a new form in the shape of the man before us. The alley way would be his castle, the full moon overhead the light that illuminated the throne that was the brick wall he leaned upon. It was a grim visage of a man, rested in the night it was born from. A pair of worn blue jeans scrolled up to a black cloth belt that hung down to the mid of his thighs. His upper body was protected from the surprisingly chilling Tennessee night by a black suit jacket over a black t-shirt, the letters of the machine’s most resent name scrolled across his chest in the form of “DXM”. While this would stimulate the memory and instantly clue the eyes into what they would witness next, it was not the face expected. There was no dull stare, nor the deep black hair, neck tattoos, or the single silver lip ring tossed from side to side with the flick of a tongue. What the viewers witness is that of the beast, a canine face composed of rubber, mouth wide open to show-off the rows of hungry teeth, begging for flesh to pierce. The werewolf mask was complete with wild, angered eyes and puffs of fur covering the entire back. The man beast stood still as the camera looked on it from the moonlight, breaking the silence as its head tilted up slightly, and from a motionless mouth, the voice of the warrior for the cause came)
“This is what I have become. This is what you all see when you turn on your television set, and what is seen by the people who pass me in the halls. I have ceased to be a man. I was once, but that was a long time ago. No, the name Kreature has become more of a fish tale. It’s a legend passed around from person to person, warning them about the beast that walks the land, the temple of Union Battleground. I am a creature that is only defined by what others would say about me. I am the monster in the tales you tell your children.”
(The masked head shifted just to the left, enough to send the shiver down the spine of the listener. The eyes were upon them. The eyes of the curse that has haunted the world of wrestling for many a year. The eyes of the monster himself)
I do find some of these stories funny, though, which is convenient. I was beginning to think I had forgotten what humor was. They always vary, from teller to teller as most tales will do. In some, I am depicted as the animal that cannot be killed. I am a wild man, striking out at anything and everything that moves. In others, I am the scared, trembling shadow of a human, cowering behind others who submit to my will. I am a warrior, and yet I’m also a child trapped in a man’s body. I am all of these things from the mouths of many, but that leaves one last questions in mind that has yet to be answered. What is Kreature, really? When you strip away all of the nicknames, and the tattoos, and the piercings……what lies beneath?”
(The wolf’s head tilted back up to face the moon above that it drew strength from. That same moon he had looked at so many times before, knowing that there was always someone, or in this case something, else in this universe that understood the life he lived)
“The answer, while it eludes most of you, is obvious. I am any one of them and at the same time I am all of them. I am everyone, and I am everything. I am the legend, I am the fool, the king, the pauper, the coward, the hero. I am every step you take, closer and closer to the death bed where I will eventually meet you and take you to the other side. I am the essence, the core of this thing you have labeled “existence” given physical form, here to tell you that even after all of the labels and the stories, that what lies behind the stories and this mask is much……..”
(Kreature removes the wolf mask, turning to face the camera as his head is finally revealed. Steel gray eyes pierce through the night and into the heart of the lens, the rage found in them enough to crush a mortal man)
“…..Much scarier than anything you could imagine. That’s why these stories exist. There isn’t a single stain on my record. Anyone I’ve wanted to destroy I did just that. They all throw out these caricatures of who I am so they can sleep at night. Things are far less horrifying when you don’t believe they’re real, right? It’s hardly an exclusive club, these story tellers. Even less exclusive is the mound out back that the crew tosses them on after they come face-to-face with the beast of their fables……and it looks like we have ourselves a couple of fresh member joining the heap.”
(Kreature’s intensity, while consistently present, seemed to simmer down in the lack of a challenge. His blood only flowed so that he could fight the highest caliber opponents, and now he was forced to lower himself. He no longer felt like the gladiator in the coliseum, slaughtering enemies for honor and glory, but rather like the caged animal, dancing for the fat, greasy children how point and laugh at his antics)
“Why am I not surprised you two would be that stupid? Why did I somehow doubt that you’d find yet a way to prove to the world just how desperate you are to dance in the dark? Well, color me shocked. “Beautiful Storm”, Trixie and her good for nothing boyfriend/mentor/one night standee Tornado, whose last name I won’t even try and pronounce ignored all of the facts that everyone with a television knows to be true, and spouted bullshit like a fountain. Well, to give you credit, you were able to open your mouth enough to speak after what we did to you. So, congrats, I guess, but it’s all for nothing.”
(Kreature runs his hand across his lips in an attempt to swipe away the bad taste in his mouth. It didn’t work)
“See, I’m not even mad at you, anymore. I sent my message, whether you wanted to hear it or not. I’m not even disappointed. That’s what most people would say to you in my situation. You spouted a very generic promo, you eat your pancakes, you train your asses off, and you fail! Basic deal. There’s a handful of you people who’ve said that they will slay me, but you want to know something? They never do. And that’s just me by myself. I will be joined by my Sister for the cause, Camila.”
“Kreature pushed off the wall. The moon to his back, the slightly-detailed Kreature now became nothing more than a silhouette, the darkness within matching the face”
“But since you’re in the story telling mood, why don’t I share one with you? Why don’t I tell you one of my favorites? It’s called “The Boy who Cried Wolf”. See, there was this young boy who was tasked with protecting his flock of sheep, and as you can guess, that tended to get boring. So, the boy thought of a way to get a couple of laughs. He would yell down to the villagers below that a wolf was attacking his flock. That a wolf was attacking him. So the boy yells down, and the villagers rush to his aid, ready to defend the boy and his sheep. When they got there, they found a boy laughing and no wolf. Irritated, the villagers left. So, that’s all well and good, but the kid wasn’t satisfied. He yells down again, and while the villagers were hesitant, they figured the boy wouldn’t lie twice. They run up to the fields, and again, no wolf. The boy laughed and laughed and laughed, but at that point he failed to notice a very crucial thing. He had pissed everyone off and when the time came, he wouldn’t be able to save himself. So, one day, his flock received a new visitor: an angry, hungry wolf. So the boy, naturally doing what he had been instructed to do, yelled out. “Wolf! Wolf!” But this time……nobody came. Nobody believed him. They knew what kind of person the boy was. So, in that moment, the boy watched on as his flock, the thing he worked so hard for his whole life, was ripped limb from limb, and in those last few seconds, he knew what loneliness was. He knew what suffering was……..”
(Kreature leaned in, his shadowed face now slightly lit up, his eyes still hidden behind pools of black)
“And then the wolf ate him. Just like that boy, Trixie, you and your……….friend, Tornado there, can say all you want. Maybe the first time or so, they’d believe you, but not anymore. They’ve seen the truth. They know that, when the chips are all down, Beautiful Storm couldn’t my his shoes let alone beat the BANDIT of professional wrestling. They got you both figured out. No worries though, A lot will be clear when the people sit silently as I pick you apart, because even they no longer care about the bullshit you speak and I never cared.
(Kreature slipped his hands into his pockets. He had said enough. These opponents were not worth his time or his breath. No words left and no reason to be there. Kreature pushed back, turning, and walking deeper into the shade of the alley, being swallowed up by the dark. The camera, now searching for a new target, fell down to the ground below, finding the discarded wolf mask. It looked deep into the hollow eyes of the beast, feeling the hunger within before cutting to static, and then fading to black)
“This is what I have become. This is what you all see when you turn on your television set, and what is seen by the people who pass me in the halls. I have ceased to be a man. I was once, but that was a long time ago. No, the name Kreature has become more of a fish tale. It’s a legend passed around from person to person, warning them about the beast that walks the land, the temple of Union Battleground. I am a creature that is only defined by what others would say about me. I am the monster in the tales you tell your children.”
(The masked head shifted just to the left, enough to send the shiver down the spine of the listener. The eyes were upon them. The eyes of the curse that has haunted the world of wrestling for many a year. The eyes of the monster himself)
I do find some of these stories funny, though, which is convenient. I was beginning to think I had forgotten what humor was. They always vary, from teller to teller as most tales will do. In some, I am depicted as the animal that cannot be killed. I am a wild man, striking out at anything and everything that moves. In others, I am the scared, trembling shadow of a human, cowering behind others who submit to my will. I am a warrior, and yet I’m also a child trapped in a man’s body. I am all of these things from the mouths of many, but that leaves one last questions in mind that has yet to be answered. What is Kreature, really? When you strip away all of the nicknames, and the tattoos, and the piercings……what lies beneath?”
(The wolf’s head tilted back up to face the moon above that it drew strength from. That same moon he had looked at so many times before, knowing that there was always someone, or in this case something, else in this universe that understood the life he lived)
“The answer, while it eludes most of you, is obvious. I am any one of them and at the same time I am all of them. I am everyone, and I am everything. I am the legend, I am the fool, the king, the pauper, the coward, the hero. I am every step you take, closer and closer to the death bed where I will eventually meet you and take you to the other side. I am the essence, the core of this thing you have labeled “existence” given physical form, here to tell you that even after all of the labels and the stories, that what lies behind the stories and this mask is much……..”
(Kreature removes the wolf mask, turning to face the camera as his head is finally revealed. Steel gray eyes pierce through the night and into the heart of the lens, the rage found in them enough to crush a mortal man)
“…..Much scarier than anything you could imagine. That’s why these stories exist. There isn’t a single stain on my record. Anyone I’ve wanted to destroy I did just that. They all throw out these caricatures of who I am so they can sleep at night. Things are far less horrifying when you don’t believe they’re real, right? It’s hardly an exclusive club, these story tellers. Even less exclusive is the mound out back that the crew tosses them on after they come face-to-face with the beast of their fables……and it looks like we have ourselves a couple of fresh member joining the heap.”
(Kreature’s intensity, while consistently present, seemed to simmer down in the lack of a challenge. His blood only flowed so that he could fight the highest caliber opponents, and now he was forced to lower himself. He no longer felt like the gladiator in the coliseum, slaughtering enemies for honor and glory, but rather like the caged animal, dancing for the fat, greasy children how point and laugh at his antics)
“Why am I not surprised you two would be that stupid? Why did I somehow doubt that you’d find yet a way to prove to the world just how desperate you are to dance in the dark? Well, color me shocked. “Beautiful Storm”, Trixie and her good for nothing boyfriend/mentor/one night standee Tornado, whose last name I won’t even try and pronounce ignored all of the facts that everyone with a television knows to be true, and spouted bullshit like a fountain. Well, to give you credit, you were able to open your mouth enough to speak after what we did to you. So, congrats, I guess, but it’s all for nothing.”
(Kreature runs his hand across his lips in an attempt to swipe away the bad taste in his mouth. It didn’t work)
“See, I’m not even mad at you, anymore. I sent my message, whether you wanted to hear it or not. I’m not even disappointed. That’s what most people would say to you in my situation. You spouted a very generic promo, you eat your pancakes, you train your asses off, and you fail! Basic deal. There’s a handful of you people who’ve said that they will slay me, but you want to know something? They never do. And that’s just me by myself. I will be joined by my Sister for the cause, Camila.”
“Kreature pushed off the wall. The moon to his back, the slightly-detailed Kreature now became nothing more than a silhouette, the darkness within matching the face”
“But since you’re in the story telling mood, why don’t I share one with you? Why don’t I tell you one of my favorites? It’s called “The Boy who Cried Wolf”. See, there was this young boy who was tasked with protecting his flock of sheep, and as you can guess, that tended to get boring. So, the boy thought of a way to get a couple of laughs. He would yell down to the villagers below that a wolf was attacking his flock. That a wolf was attacking him. So the boy yells down, and the villagers rush to his aid, ready to defend the boy and his sheep. When they got there, they found a boy laughing and no wolf. Irritated, the villagers left. So, that’s all well and good, but the kid wasn’t satisfied. He yells down again, and while the villagers were hesitant, they figured the boy wouldn’t lie twice. They run up to the fields, and again, no wolf. The boy laughed and laughed and laughed, but at that point he failed to notice a very crucial thing. He had pissed everyone off and when the time came, he wouldn’t be able to save himself. So, one day, his flock received a new visitor: an angry, hungry wolf. So the boy, naturally doing what he had been instructed to do, yelled out. “Wolf! Wolf!” But this time……nobody came. Nobody believed him. They knew what kind of person the boy was. So, in that moment, the boy watched on as his flock, the thing he worked so hard for his whole life, was ripped limb from limb, and in those last few seconds, he knew what loneliness was. He knew what suffering was……..”
(Kreature leaned in, his shadowed face now slightly lit up, his eyes still hidden behind pools of black)
“And then the wolf ate him. Just like that boy, Trixie, you and your……….friend, Tornado there, can say all you want. Maybe the first time or so, they’d believe you, but not anymore. They’ve seen the truth. They know that, when the chips are all down, Beautiful Storm couldn’t my his shoes let alone beat the BANDIT of professional wrestling. They got you both figured out. No worries though, A lot will be clear when the people sit silently as I pick you apart, because even they no longer care about the bullshit you speak and I never cared.
(Kreature slipped his hands into his pockets. He had said enough. These opponents were not worth his time or his breath. No words left and no reason to be there. Kreature pushed back, turning, and walking deeper into the shade of the alley, being swallowed up by the dark. The camera, now searching for a new target, fell down to the ground below, finding the discarded wolf mask. It looked deep into the hollow eyes of the beast, feeling the hunger within before cutting to static, and then fading to black)