Post by Erik Holland on Apr 4, 2020 13:42:20 GMT -5
Danny.
Audio's all we get as this begins, and then we cut to a harsh, creepy closeup of a panicked human being's eye. The pupil snatches around, as if some imminent danger is on its way, then a static cut fills our eyes and ears with harshness and noise. This only lasts a few seconds though it feels like longer, and when we have some sense of control over the chaos we see Erik Holland, in front of a night-vision camera, glowering at the screen.
He looks VERY different.
Not like the man we used to know for the last good part of 2019.
His black hair is spiked up and out in as many directions as you could think of. He's got a LOT of hair. Heavy black eye makeup smeared around his eyes and pale contact lenses that have artificially reduced the size of his pupils to a pinprick make for a fearsome appearance, as if Holland hasn't slept properly in years--and there's probably good money on the fact that he hasnt. The ugly snarl on his face somehow belies more unbridled intensity. Like he no longer wants to bite his tongue. Would rather bite yours off, at this point.
Even the cadence of his voice has changed. A desperate muttering, mostly through clenched teeth; where we're not sure if he's talking to his opponent, talking to himself, talking to his demons.
He looks VERY different.
Not like the man we used to know for the last good part of 2019.
His black hair is spiked up and out in as many directions as you could think of. He's got a LOT of hair. Heavy black eye makeup smeared around his eyes and pale contact lenses that have artificially reduced the size of his pupils to a pinprick make for a fearsome appearance, as if Holland hasn't slept properly in years--and there's probably good money on the fact that he hasnt. The ugly snarl on his face somehow belies more unbridled intensity. Like he no longer wants to bite his tongue. Would rather bite yours off, at this point.
Even the cadence of his voice has changed. A desperate muttering, mostly through clenched teeth; where we're not sure if he's talking to his opponent, talking to himself, talking to his demons.
We need to talk.
We need to fight, too.
We need...to fight..
Erik almost allows himself to trail off and go on one of his violent tangents but gives a shake of the head. No. Not yet.
But we need to talk first.
He takes a deep breath, Erik seemingly trying to just hold it together long enough. Just for the moments he needs. He steps away from the camera, sitting down in a sturdy looking chair that has been positioned just so right in the middle of the shot.
How are you, Danny? Holding up well? Sleeping well? Eating right? Workouts going good? Or maybe...maybe things are a little off, right? Things don't feel like they used to? This match feels just a little different, right?
Erik smiles. He knows the answer.
Not just because we're coming to Union Battleground. Not just because you and I are fit to collide on one of their biggest shows, no, that isn't it at all.
While those things ARE true...
It's because you're well aware now that you are about to reckon with the very thing you not only asked for, but demanded. And who was I, Danny, to deny you such a reasonable request?
Erik snarls at the camera, shaking his head derisively. With the night vision camera in place we are unsure exactly where Erik is, and I think that might be the idea. It doesn't matter where he is, Erik says without saying, it matters what he's saying and who to.
You didn't want the Erik Holland of a few months ago. The Most Dangerous. The man who went everywhere, wrestled everyone, but I emphasize man because that Erik Holland was just a man, and was beginning to break down. To wear down. To ultimately not give a shit about anyone or anything. I needed to make a change, Danny, and here you come like an angel sent by the Lord, to encourage that change as only you can do it.
The fact Erik's speaking so generously and warmly at this point of his opponent should scare most of us. Erik adjusts his position in the chair as he continues.
YOU...are responsible for this. For convincing me that awakening something dormant in me for years was the shot in the arm, the kick in the ass I really needed.
I tried, Danny, for so long, to act like I was normal. To act like I could just be one of 'the boys'. Traveling up and down the road. But I've never been that, and I was deceiving myself, Danny, lying to myself for so very long. I have never been normal. I never was, have never been, and I never will be. I've always, from my childhood to now, walked on the brink, Danny. That fine razor's edge between sanity and lunacy and you know...I like it here. I really do..
Erik takes a gentle, relaxed deep breath, as if he's going for a walk in the sunshine.
Because now, I don't have to hold back. I don't have to hold back out of some misguided attempt not to FRIGHTEN people away. I realized that this is what the people have ALWAYS wanted! They want to see Erik Holland come out of that curtain, smoke pouring out of my nose and ears, ready to reduce the poor bastard I'm in the ring with to little else but a random pile of body parts.. all in the name of one day, finally, being considered one of the best to ever do it.
Holland now folds his hands together in front of him, the night-vision lens playing with the pale contacts he's wearing and giving his eyes this sickly, creepy green glow.
And the topic of not having to hold back brings me back to you, Danny, to this I Quit match you wanted. You demanded. You needed. I have submitted a couple of times in my career, and there's nothing wrong with it. Sometimes you get caught, and you live to fight another day. But I can't say I've ever been made to say I Quit, because quitting doesn't really track with me, with my family, with our experiences in the world. Immigrants from Poland. My father, the Navy man and former circus wrestler. My mother, the factory worker. Myself, suicide and self harm attempts and being institutionalized. And not one of us quit. Not one of us...quit.
Erik growled that last word with toxicity. As if he hates even saying it, let alone in the context of a match.
Doesn't really work for you, either, does it? You haven't quit doing anything, Danny. You haven't quit being an annoying, arrogant piece of garbage, that much goes unsaid, but neither have you quit being a thoroughly dangerous opponent anywhere you go.
Both things can be true.
So something will have to give here, Danny, and I think that's why you asked for this. Because we can't be bound by rules and regulations, can we? We can't settle this with just a basic rasslin' match. A pinfall, a regular submission, a DQ, a count-out..no. That ain't gonna be enough. Not for men like us. Not for monsters...like us. There has to be nothing left for us to explore. No amount of violence we're not willing to inflict on each other. To where we may never meet in the ring again after this...and after this they're not gonna' want us to.
Erik smiles proudly for a moment, but his face instantly turns into that one expression we all get when we're about to blow up but know we have to hold back. The pursed lips that you almost suck back inside your mouth, the big wide eyes, the raised eyebrows. His hands, folded together, are shaking violently.
But don't, don't...
Erik drops his head, then unfolds his hands and points an accusing finger at the lens as he comes back up.
Danny, you told me on Twitter that this would be painless for me and I have to caution you. Don't do that. Don't insult my intelligence like that. Don't piss on the body of work you and I have put into this industry like that, Danny. If this I Quit match against YOU is going to be painless for me I may as well not bother showing up to the SSE, I might as well cancel my trip to Ireland right now. You don't do that, Danny, you don't make anything painless for anyone, Danny, you never have and never will--so don't pull that sniveling BULLSHIT with me!
Erik, enraged, BARKS those last couple words at the lens. It's like that moment insulted him worse than anything else. He's finally letting go now.
You know you're going to have to hurt me to get what you want, you're smarter than that. You know I'm going to hurt you. You know it's coming. You are not planning for how to stop it, only how to survive it because it's going to happen no matter what you do. I've planned for the possibility that you're going to inflict violence upon me as I've never seen it before. And I've done some pretty violent shit, and I'm planning for you to do worse!
Erik YANKS his head back down, shaking hands holding the back of his neck. Oh, how badly does Erik just want to snap. How hard is he holding on, just by a fingernail.
As you know, Danny, I...read a lot, and Abraham Lincoln once said if you give me six hours to chop down a tree, I will spend the first four sharpening the axe. There is no contingency here I haven't prepared for. Nothing youre gonna do that I'm not expecting. I know you're going to reach deep, deep into your reserves because you will not beat me if you do anything less. You WON'T!
Erik squeezes his eyes tight, gritting his teeth with the mouth open so we can see how hard he's struggling. After a moment or two, he opens them again sharply and continues.
I know I will have to, and so I will, do the same. You're not like the others, Danny. I have to push you further. I have to take a special care, a special touch. Because it'll mean more when you quit. Will your career be ruined forever if I make you say I Quit? Fuck no. Look at your body of work, I need not describe it. After I make you quit... you will recover. As always. You will get put back together as fast as I tear you apart in Dublin, and you'll move on. But I will have it in my list forever of the biggest names in the industry that I have beaten and it's a long one, and I will relish the opportunity to add your name to that list. THAT...is worth having to go through what youre going to put me through.
Erik gets up from the chair now, so suddenly and sharply that it tips over into the dirt of...wherever he is. He begins to approach the camera, the lens nearly being blocked out entirely by Erik's massive form. He tilts it up so we can see those horrible pale eyes.
The world will keep turning after you quit, Danny. It'll carry on. You'll still be considered one of the baddest men walking the face of the Earth, and you may go on to acheive many more accolades. Beat many more all-time greats. But this night? Relapse 3? I can't let you win this one. I can't quit to silence those demons in your head telling you you've GOT to do this. You are going to sacrifice everything you have to get what you want because you know you're going to have to...or you're going to quit, Danny, and your desire to see me in the gutter is going to blow up in your face, the plans you laid in place so many months ago are going to collapse...and you're going to live with that.
Erik now places a palm of one of those massive hands over the camera. We see that eye again, snatching around at super-high speed; followed by an ear-piercing scream.
Static.
Black.