X-treme Wrestling Federation
So Long, Lonesome. - Printable Version

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So Long, Lonesome. - Mercury - 07-10-2019

A slender figure stands in a fine navy three-piece suit, taking in the sight of the wall of masks, blades, and handguns all lined up before him. The arsenal is simple, but effective. Enough to hide his identity and commit the perfect, clean execution before anyone could notice a thing. All in all, the ideal repertoire and equipment befitting of one of the world’s most efficient hitmen.

Mercury took a step back from the masterpiece of a wall ahead of him, and spun around to face the camera, the unbuttoned suit jacket fluttering a little from the movement. He flashes a full set of pearly whites at the camera, running a hand through his short, textured dark hair. He spreads his arms wide in a welcoming movement.


‘XWF, my have I been waiting to make my appearance here? Years upon years of history, of bloodying one another up in contests akin to those participated in by gladiators centuries ago, with adoring fans chanting and hoping to see shattered egos, bones, and ambitions all rest before them.

The smile retreats and makes way for a scowl.

‘Rest assured, I am going to give you all of those things.’

The scowl is replaced by an amused smirk.

‘John Black, are you prepared to die nameless? It would seem that way, wouldn’t it? I watch you, and I feel the pit of my stomach churn in disgust, I get a bitter taste in my mouth and I feel the need to projectile vomit all over your indifference to the world, and the badass persona that you attempt to convey.

‘You are the definition of a man who is going through the motions, another unmotivated pile of trash and disappointment who has found himself partaking in the deadliest game in the business.

‘You live an average existence in a world that you probably despise. You pay the bills, you’ve lived the tough life and have beaten your fair share of opponents. You’ve also taken some stumbles along the way. You are a veteran, a journeyman… an embodiment of mediocrity and everything that I utterly detest.

‘I worry for you, Mr. Black. I truly do. I’ve found myself pondering over the course of the week what sort of pain I’m going to bring you, and in what method I’m going to put you down like the morbidly obese, bumbling fool that you’ve been since your return to the ring.

‘The only thing that’ll be a struggle with you as my opponent? Differentiating between your BMI and your IQ. Other than that? It’s smooth sailing. It’s Mercury making his professional debut in XWF and laying down a claim to being the future face of the brand, and eventual face of the company as a whole.

‘Do you believe you have what it takes to put a stop to that? While you’ve been able to get the best of some of your lesser opposition recently, I doubt you can replicate that performance against someone of my level. I am efficient, agile, skilled. All the things that you are not. You? You’re a throwback to the oldest age of combat. A stumbling brute with no sense of finesse or technical ability. I find myself questioning how you even managed to make it on the roster, but that is mostly due to the fact that I couldn’t be bothered taking the deep dive into your history, which I have no doubt is filled with pages upon pages of meaningless, boring history that has turned you into the sad, caricature of a human being that stands before me today.

‘No matter. Thursday Night, I stomp a hole through your skull and plant the flag in your back. I did not arrive here to make friends or become adored by the waves of fans who will be in attendance. No, that is for someone like yourself, who has to fill your empty void of a life with some form of meaning.

‘But enough chatter. I advise you to bring your best when we face, Mr. Black. Or else I fear you will have very little left to give to this world once I’m through with you. Good day.’


F L A S H B A C K

‘You’re creating a monster, William.’

‘It’s how every Mercury man must be brought up, you should understand.’

‘He’s the heir to our business, he doesn’t need to-‘

‘Business? This IS the business, Natalie. Remember, this is how it must be. There’s no other option. He’s not an ordinary child, he’s a Mercury. Understood?’

‘I just can’t stand it. His eyes look so empty. They aren’t the eyes of a child who should be living out the best years of his life. Can’t you see that?’

The muffled voices were cut off partially by his room door, but Julian could make out some of what was being said. He didn’t care for it. Today, he had gotten suspended at school for breaking another student’s nose. When asked why he did such a thing, he simply replied: ‘It’s what father taught me to do when someone disrespects me.’

Natalie Mercury was appalled; William Mercury was proud. That was the general way of things when Julian replicated his father’s teachings, and he found that he was at his most joyful when he was allowed to expend his energy in such a way.

His mother had always recommended that if he felt the need to perform such an act, to do so on an inanimate object, such as a punching bag. He had given it a shot, as he always did when his loving mother gave him advice. However, he felt that the feedback from bone on bone, or bone on flesh, was far more satisfying than anything leather could offer him.

It was a splendid feeling, and the blood came off from his knuckles quite easily. Then, his father took him for an ice-cream. What more could a son monster ask for?