Post by Sammy Kuklinski on Mar 19, 2018 11:36:11 GMT -5
That Cursed Beast Blood
Caden let out a soft breath as his hands wrapped close around the rosary that sat in front of him. His fingers scrabbled against the grooved sides, his eyes closed tight. He wanted to stop. The prayers, however silent and impactful they were in his heart, didnāt seem to be helping. They hadnāt seemed to reach the holy one. He had begged for salvation and nothing had seemed to happen. Just empty words to a voiceless god. His anger bubbled inside of his chest, blazing in every bit of his being. With a snarl he pulled his fist back, slamming his fist into the wall with a scream as he stared at the cross.
āYou out there aināt ya god?! Huh?! You out there somewhere?! How come you aināt talking to me?! Huh?!ā he shouted angrily, his head reeling back and driving forward against the cross itself. The pain didnāt seem to help anything. If anything it just proved to piss him off a bit more as he glared straight ahead, his teeth clenching in his jaw. The pain that was exploding in his head, fueling that chaotic fire buried in his gut. He wanted to explode. Let out all out in a screaming inferno of rage and anger. But nothing was happening. Nothing at all. Just that unceasing rage. His head reeled back, ready to slam into the wall again before the soft velvet like fingers reached back, running through his hair before taking hold of the oily mess and pulling on it. Venomously soft lips moved forward, petting his ear as her breath escaped.
āMy child, do not hurt yourself in vain. And why call out in anguish to the lord, as if you donāt believe he will answer?ā Miss Sarin asked in her sultry way. All the serene beauty of a pure maiden, hidden in the depths of her tarnished brown eyes. Her hand turned his face to hers, placing a soft kiss against his sweat ridden forehead before taking the rosary from him. She gazed at it, placing a simple kiss against the center of it before placing it around his neck. āCaden, you mustnāt harm yourself like that. That is not what God requires of you, after all. God requires a substantial and meaningful sacrifice. He does not want your penance to be this...baseless.ā she continued with a dismissive wave of her hand before taking his hand, leading him through the church. Light streamed through the stained glass windows, illuminating the two of them. These twin demons, one painted as the marbled image of purity and piety, and the other...a lumbering mess of twisted emotion and malice. The light of god had ceased shining in this temple, years ago.
āNow, you have your first match here. I need you to give me your thoughts on the first savior to step forth to deliver you. A woman by the name of Elina Cartel. Sheās...an interesting thing. Iām sure youāll learn just how interesting at some point, Caden. But for now, let your mind run rampant with thoughts of what to do to her in the ring, and how she can deliver you. Let the lord hear your pleas in this way, for it is only then shall he know that you are genuine with your want of salvation.ā Miss Sarin stated, her hands clasped in front of her as she walked. Caden stopped in his tracks as she kept moving, her mouth twisting into a smirk as she could feel the words sinking into Cadenās mind and heart. So easy to ply and twist to her command. Like clay in the hands of an artist. Oh so simple. And yet...oh so refined. She reached for the door, pulling it open and stepping out into the hall as it closed with a harsh thud. Caden was alone once more. Alone, aside from the constant sound of screaming and scratching that echoed in his head. Something he had grown accustomed to. Something he could tune out. No...he had a savior to address. Someone to deliver him.
āYour name is Elina Cartel, right Miss? Miss Sarin says your the first one Iām āposed to fight. Look Miss, I donāt know why the higher ups decided that the two of us should be the ones to have a go at each other but I want to get something out of the way. Iām sorry. I donāt mean to do the things I do to you, but I aināt got no choice. Miss Sarin this is the only way of redemption for someone like me, you understand? Penance and the like. Beinā honest I donāt know for sure what all of that means, you understand? I aināt no godly man by any stretch. But I know I done some terrible things. Some...some horrible horrible things in my life. Things that I sure do regret doing in my life, but I have done them. And I gotta pay for that. Jail wasnāt a payment. They were gonna keep me alive in that place, let me rot away. Thatās just an end, you get it? I aināt paying for what I done by breathing air and eating food. So Miss Sarin said, I gotta pay penance the way I gave punishment. I gotta suffer and I gotta make those that the lord wants suffer too. Thatās how I pay for what I done. Like I said, I donāt rightly understand all of it myself, you know? And you look like a nice woman. You like kinda like a girl I once knew in my hometown. Dressinā in all kinds of weird clothes. Didnāt get the meaning behind what it all was, and looked uncomfortable too but...she said she liked it. Iām getting off track aināt I?
Listen, Elina. End of the day I gotta do this, just like you do. Difference is I know why I gotta fight. I donāt think you do. I seen your pictures, and how your eyes look in āem. You look lost. You look like youāre tryinā to find something to be in this world, but this world donāt have it. You look like the kinda girl who looks up at the sky and sees something familiar in them stars. I used to think them lights up there were angels...but I was young then. Angels donāt show themselves to people that easily. And your answers wonāt come that easily from the stars, Missy. Nah, answers come from somewhere else. They come from nowhere and everywhere, you just gotta find out what it is...I know that aināt helping you none with finding it, but Iām trying to be nice. At least before our fight, I wanna be cordial. Miss Sarin been tryinā to teach me about that. Said I was a little rough around the edges. Sheās right of course. And the thing about that is...she isnāt teaching me to get rid of it. Just to hide it. To let it boil inside of me.
Iāll tell you something. That rage and anger in me. That...cursed blood that makes me do the horrible things that I did. Itās still in there. It aināt ever goinā away. So I gotta spill as much of it as I can before that last bell sounds and one of our hands gets raised. And Elina...you gotta understand...you probably are deserving of some punishment too. For something you done wrong in your life, no matter how big or small. And Miss Sarin says that God chose me for that purpose. To punish you. I aināt the type to go against the orders of God or Miss Sarin. Iām cordial like that. At L!ghts Out...I show you and the rest of the world what Miss Sarin has taught me. And my hand will go up at the end. Youāll have saved a part of me, but there is so much more that has to be saved.ā
Caden let out a withdrawn sigh as he cleared some space on the cold ground of the emptied room. Sitting down in the center of it and returning to his prayers as his hands reached for his rosary clasping it. High above him, the solemn church bell rang, echoing the empty prayers of Caden.
Post by ŃāĪ¹Ī·Ī± ŃŃĪ±ŃāĻ ŃŃ on Mar 19, 2018 22:07:59 GMT -5
Note: The following scenes represent dramatized speculation. The views and situations expressed to not represent those of the individuals named. Elina Cartel and Union Battleground do not condone abuse of any kind.
He wanted the same thing his friends wanted out of life. He wanted toys, a bike, and to have fun. He watched his peers outside whilst he was stuck behind the window as they enjoyed all of those things he so desperately wanted.
When he dared act out because he was treated ādifferentlyā, he was punished.
āWhen I was initially notified I was to face Caden Walker, I immediately looked into his past and was immediately struck by two key factors. The first was that I was amazed that a man accused of such atrocities could be walking the street. Ultimately, I believed him to be a farcical representation of a murderer. Something conjured by the imagination of a childish mind. The mind of a child who was plugged into movies like āTexas Chainsaw Massacreā too often, for an example. Secondly, I imagined if Caden Walker were truly a murderer and ultimately this sad excuse for a man we see before us.
āThis of course, lead me to speculate what made him this monster. Nature versus Nurture immediately entered my mind. Does the concept apply? Are men like Caden Walker murderers from birth or are they turned into murderers?ā
Once he ran out the back door in an attempt to play with these other children and he was caught by his mother. His mother was cruel and unforgiving. She beat him and beat him so badly that he never went to school again. He was homeschooled and used that experience, that beating, to inform his decisions, moving forward.
These beatings would become a common part of his existence.
āCaden expected his first opponent to reel back in horror of whom he portrays himself to be. He expected his āhistoryā and his ācaregiverā would send chills down the spine of anyone who stepped into his path. Expectation, seems to be Cadenās life. The reality is, if we are to believe his story to be true, Caden is not a monster. He is a victim and has been since his birth. There is nothing to fear in this man; he is meant to be studied and pitied.ā
āIf only he had been given a chance to be a better person. If only he had someone there for him when he was quite young, to help him find a stable path in lifeā¦ These are the things one would say about him...ā
Years later, when he had finally torn himself free from the clutches of his mother, he couldnāt help by see her everywhere she went. She saw her face painted on the insides of his eyelids whenever he closed them. He heard her voice no matter how hard he covered his ears.
The first woman he killed, at the time, looked just like his mother. He watched his mother take her last breath as he squeezed the life out of her. It was his first kill and it did not go as he expected it to. It took a very long time to choke his āmotherā to death. She clawed at him and hurt him more, but pain didnāt seem to matter anymore.
āCaden clings to archaic standards. He places himself into the appropriate surroundings and says everything you would expect a man in his position to say. This is where he diverts from a man to be studied and pitied and becomes a predictable cliche. Is he really a monster? Is this really in his nature? Was he nurtured to become this murderer? Is the story really as fascinating as I imagine it? Or is Caden yet another in a long line of wrestlers who have chosen to be ādark and scaryā as a means to an end?ā
āThe question begins to reveal itself.ā
Pain had become a common part of his existence. The killings would continue. Each time he killed, he took a trophy. A piece of clothing. The smell of the soft cotton against his nose--it reminded him of his mother. He would kill her over and over again.
Ultimately, his lust for killing caught up with him. He had become quite proficient in the act of killing, but he had become sloppy. He had become, for the lack of a better term, ādrunkā on the act and with it, he stopped worrying about covering his tracks.
āI believe Iām painting a clear picture of this, arenāt I? Personally, I want Caden to be this monster of a man. I want him to live up to the nonsense he says. I want to believe that he is not just another trench coat wearing ādisturbedā poseur ready to be stacked on the pile of those who came before him. He appears to be much more the former.ā
āBut, what if he is truly a victim? How could Union Battleground sign and proceed to use this disturbed and pathetic man to āsell ticketsā? The answer to the aforementioned question starts to reveal itself as well.ā
He was imprisoned.
Once he was an inmate, he suffered a new kind of abuse. This time the abuse was at the hands of his fellow inmates. He would have you know that he was the one perpetrating the abuse to others, but men who rape and kill girls and women arenāt treated well in prison.
He became a victim of beatings, sodomy, and ultimately tried to kill himself.
āTo truly be who he claims to be, Caden Walker has to be a victim. The power he believes he has is merely that of a man who lives in fear. If he truly is this victim, all he knows is fear. There is no power in this man, nor is there anything to truly be ālearnedā by studying him. With that said, all we have left to do is to pity Caden Walker. The victim.ā
āBut is he the victim of nature or nurture? Was he born this way? Perhaps, one could argue, based on his speech patterns that he was born with a learning disability, but what if he were paid to act the part? Either way, I believe we have to focus on ānurtureā because regardless of whether heās pretending or is actually a victim, he was taught to be this man we now focus on.ā
He was in the medical ward of the prison, crying, and grieving the ānormalā life which was simply never afforded to him when he was approached by Miss Sarin.
āCaden needs many things. He needs to belong, hence reaching out to his new āmother figureā in Miss Sarin. He needs to be āfearedā hence his need to apologize for actions yet perpetrated. He also needs attention. Yes. Attention. The ultimate unifier. Professional wrestling, the very act of stepping out in front of the camera to become an idol, is the ultimate act of the attention seeker. Yet, in Cadenās case, he is the victim and thus he needs both attention, acceptance, and approval. The attention he seeks from his opponents, the acceptance he seeks from his mentor, and the approval he seeks from a God he knows may or may not be there.ā
When he looked at her, he saw hope. He saw a mother. When she looked at him, she saw a victim--a tool. A man ready to do whatever she asked.
A pawn.
āThe question has been answered.ā
āCaden Walker is no murderer. He is a pawn, seeks attention and approval, but he is not this monster of a man he portrays himself to be. āNature versus Nurtureā simply does not apply to him. His promotional videos are both vapid and echo of so many promotional videos this sport has seen in the past. Perhaps children still fear dark figures like Caden Walker, hence his childish mind believing the ālost little girlā Elina Cartel would reel back in terror, but itās a foolish pursuit. Change the name and gender of his opponent and watch the promotional video ran on repeat. This is who Caden Walker is.ā
āIn closing, Caden, you had the opportunity to tell a harrowing tale of pain, violence, and suffering. Instead, you opted to become a sad cliche--a story which has been told a thousand times before. Since the inception of Frankenstein. Like those before you, you will be forgotten. All you are is an immature interpretation of madness. You will be dealt with as such.ā
āIf it is a god you seek, I suggest you stand before the Starchild and prepare to see the light.ā
