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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Warfare Boards » Warfare RP Board
The History of the Mask (Part 1)
Author Message
LH Harrison Offline
The Inspiration of the XWF



XWF FanBase:
Kids, women, some teens

(fighting the odds; helps others; disliked by adult males)


#1
03-01-2015, 09:40 PM



                                                                                                                              


















































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OOC: This is continued from RP A Deal With A Doctor.



The pen drops and hits the paper as LH shakily retracts his hand to his side. His face is pale as he’s suddenly having trouble breathing. As the moments pass, Harrison slowly begins to be able to breathe normally and his face retains its color. Doctor Louis D’Ville stares at him pensively with his fingertips connected in front of his face hiding his unwavering smile. D’Ville lifts up the paperwork and quickly shoves it in a drawer of the table. The gaze of D’Ville continues assessing and evaluating Harrison as he sits there.


Mr. Harrison, I do think it’s time to know what I want.

You mean (break for air) besides what I (break) gave you on that con (breath) tract?


The ends of D’Ville’s mouth go up at a sharp angle.


Surely, Mr. Harrison you read the fine print? After all, I didn’t write up over 300 pages for you to just sign on the dotted lines without reading it thoroughly.


A bead of sweat drops down the forehead of Harrison. He begins fidgeting with his hands.


You said that that was just to keep me alive.

Oh, but there is so much more Mr. Harrison. So much more. In addition to bringing you back to life, you are now indebted to me wouldn’t you agree?

Well ye-

Your debt shall be paid, Mr. Harrison through a series of tasks you will complete for me.

Harrison leans back in the chair and looks at his hands. His fingers slowly extend before retracting. He slowly raises his head with furrowed brow. His green eyes shine with an emerald glow so bright that the rest of his face seems to fade away. Doc smiles and lowers his face until all that is seen on his face is his icy blue eyes and the white shimmer from his toothy grin.

Beat

Beat




Beat

Finally…


What did I sign up for?



The Doctor throws his head back and begins to laugh while keeping his frozen stare locked onto the green gaze of Harrison.


Nothing I don’t think you can handle, Mr. Harrison. Trust me.


The glass eye of D’Ville lowers as the staredown ensues. Harrison finally breaks it by looking through the window behind Doctor D’Ville.


What do you want me to do?

Why the sunken smile, Inspiration? Don’t you know I’m only wanting to live out both of our passions? You will now be my recruiter. You will spread the words of myself. You will be… My Prophet. Now you’re first step is outside. He will take you to see the stars. We shall talk later, my Prophet.

Harrison slowly gets to his feet and looks at Doc with curiousity. He reaches his hand out to speak to Doc when…



KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK


Harrison turns around and looks at the banging on the wooden door behind him. He turns back towards Doc, but Doc seems engaged in whatever paperwork he was continually working on. Doc waves his hand forward telling LH to move on. LH walks towards the doorway with hesitant steps. He gets to the door and opens it wide. Behind the open doorway is a young man. The outfit of the young man resembles that of a tourist. He has a fanny pack, cargo shorts, thick lensed glasses, an old New York Mets hat, a dirty white t-shirt, a camouflage button down that’s unbuttoned, and a dirty pair of running shoes. To add to his disheveled appearance, his chin and cheeks are covered with patches of hair in an unorganized manner. The boy sticks out his grimy hand towards LH as flies buzz around the hand as the nails are extending past the end of his fingertips. Harrison’s nose flares in disgust before turning about to look at Doc.

But D’Ville has already gone. Just like that. Always like that.

The newly dubbed ‘Prophet’ turns about to shake his head at the hand of The Tourist. The dirty man picks up the bag at LH’s feet in which LH hadn’t remembered packing. ‘Did I pack that?’, he questions of himself. The Tourist begins walking down the steps as Harrison slowly follows him. His eyes are filled with curiosity and uncertainty as he follows him down the steps. The stairs seem to go on forever despite the fact they never reached the bottom of the next flight. ‘Surely this building can’t be this wide,’ Harrison thought. Eventually, the stairs come to their conclusion with a large beam of light.

The Tourist passes through the light. Harrison hesitates, but eventually walks through the light. His eyes are blinded momentarily. His eyes adjust as the pupils diminish in size. He looks quizzically on as the black sleek vehicle standing before him.


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The trunk is open as the boy throws his bag into it. He slams the door shut. The Tourist seems to notice his stoppage. A nervous laughter comes from him.


You like the ride, Mister?

I must say it’s a nice one.

He said you’d like it Mr. Harrison.

He told you my name?

Oh yah, he’s likes the lil’ details like that.


Harrison smiled slightly before entering the opened door by The Tourist. As Harrison piled in, he just realized that he hadn’t even bothered asking the driver’s name. He waits a moment and as the driver gets in. He leans up beside The Tourist and asks him…


I apologize but I didn’t even ask your name sir.

Oh no need to worry about that. Just buckle up now. This puppy doesn’t drive slow, and I wouldn’t be drivin’ her if she did.

But you-



VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!




The Tourist floors the pedal and the engine races to life as they speed out of the small parking lot of the loft’s building. The Tourist begins whistling The Andy Griffith Show theme song. Harrison looks at him with a pensive glance. The Tourist turns briefly to look at him and frowns.

What’s amatta mister?

Where are you taking me?

I dunno. You’re the one who talked to him weren’t you?

Well yes, but… he didn’t say anywhere.


The Tourist looks at him, back to the road, and back to The Prophet.


Really? Nowhere? You sure?

I promise! He just said to come follow you and you’d lead me to ‘the stars.’


At this, The Tourist quickly turns the driver’s wheel and begins driving very quickly down the main strip in whatever town they were in. At this point, they were driving so fast that Harrison couldn’t even keep up with where they were. The buildings were going by in a blur. As he stares out the window, The Tourist slams on the breaks. Harrison throws his hands up on the dash to ensure his face doesn’t go through the dashboard. The seatbelt digs into his neck and chest. He turns to give The Tourist a pissed off look, but The Tourist just continues whistling the theme from earlier.


Here ya go. This has been your trip to the stars. Now please get outta my car.


Harrison opens the door and begins to get out, but rather than do that he sits back down.


Before I go, I need to know your name.

This again? C’mon man! Do ya really care?

Yes, now tell me.


Something about the lad man him highly inquisitive of his name. It seemed like pertinent information for no real reason at all. The Tourist shakes his head and takes off this glasses while he cleans them on his filthy shirt. He looks at LH with deep red irises and infinitesimally small pupils.


The name is Hank York. Now get outta my car.


LH, now contempt with the gentleman’s name, gets out of the car while thanking him. The kid closes the door behind him and zooms off into the distance. Harrison watches as the midnight vehicle rumbles over the horizon before finally turning to what he’d been dropped at. He sighs as he looks up at the enormous building before him. The name of the building?


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As he’s about to take his first step, he realizes his bag is now on the ground in front of him. He didn’t recall Hank ever leaving his car to get it out yet here it lay. Harrison picks up the bag and notices a note on the top of it.

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Harrison pockets the note before throwing the bag on his shoulder. The older building looked as if it had been remodeled or redecorated. The place was buzzing with people going in and out of the establishment. LH passes by them as he enters the front of the building. He looks in and it’s a pub on the ground floor. He steps through the door and looks around for anyone who might be named Stacy. He goes to the bar and takes a seat. The long-haired, middle aged bartender walks up cleaning a glass with a rag that probably needed to be retired due to the excessive dirt on it.


What are you having?


Um… I’m not actually here to drink. Do you by chance know where I might find a Stacy Trammel?


The bartender eyes him very strangely before nodding with a smirk on his face.


Yeah Stacy works here. She’s right over there.



The bartender points at a very petite blonde talking to a stout gentleman who’s leaned up against the wall. Harrison slides off the barstool and makes his way over to the couple. He makes eye contact with the girl and extends a hand. The girl cocks an eyebrow before very softly shaking his hand.


Stacy, right? It’s very nice to meet you, my name is LH Ha-


Hey what the fuck, asshole?


Harrison stops mid-sentence and looks at the towering presence looming over him. The Prophet meets his gaze with a tiny smirk.


You probably don’t want to mess with me today, sir.


Oh yea? Why not fuckface?

Well… I’m just a little busy. Now Miss Stacy.

Hey fucktard, her name’s not Stacy. That’s fucking Stacy!


The large man points right back at the bartender that LH had talked to on the way in. The Bartender begins belly laughing at the entire scene. Harrison sighs and holds up his hands.


My apologies, he told me that she was named Stacy. I shall leave you to your business.


LH holds his hands up as he continues walking back towards the bar. He turns away and takes his seat on the barstool. It’s then that he feels the impact of the glass hitting him in the back of the head. LH slumps forward on the bar before getting back up to his feet.


What in the h-


The impact of the knuckles colliding with his skull indicated that he’d probably pissed off the wrong roided out freak. Harrison staggers back and attempts to put up his fists. The big guy throws another punch, but he misses wildly. In this time, Harrison regains his composure. He dodges another blow by the big man and punches him in the ribs. The big man leaps back surprised that LH had actually made contact. LH feels his lip is buster open as he tastes the blood in his mouth.


He spits it at the jacked up freakazoid. The man literally bellows before charging. LH had anticipated this and dodged out of the way picking up a bar stool in one fluid process. He swings the barstool, but the barbarian catches it. They play a brief game of tug of war before LH releases it and send the larger man flying backwards.


LH chuckles to himself. He begins laughing a little louder, more wild. He clears his throat unsure of where that weird laughter was emanating from. As he recovers from that laughing fit, he looks up just in time for a brutal fist to collide with his chin sending him to the ground. He stares up blankly as the lights slowly swirl before forming to become one bright light.





A few hours pass before Harrison’s eyes snap open. He sits up quickly, breathing heavily. He looks around and notices that he’s on a bed in a small room. Harrison rubs his face and neck before exiting the room. As soon as he does, The Bartender walks up to him and laughs once more.


Nice fight kid! I didn’t think you had it in you. I apologize for the interruption, but the Doctor wanted to see how you handled your own under such strange circumstances. Safe to say, he was impressed.

Impressed with me getting my face pulverized?


The Bartender laughs, knowingly. He shakes his head.


Now why did the doctor send you to me?

Well all I know was that he said something about going to ‘the stars.’ I assume that meant this bar.

Right it did. But your quest doesn’t end here. In fact...


The Bartender walks down the hall urging LH to follow him as he walks. As he reaches the very end, the Bartender removes his wig?! As he does so, Harrison notices some red markings on his head. They look purposeful, but he’s unsure of how to ask about it. The Bartender removes the key from around his neck and places the wig back down. He adjusts it so before putting the key in the lock. He turns it and a large narrow staircase is revealed. One sole light is hanging above the staircase. The Bartender hands him his pack and urges him down the stairs. Harrison nods and begins walking down the stairs.


As he does, The Bartender instantly locks him in. Harrison runs back to bang on the door and that’s when…



The lights went out.





Complete darkness.





And in the darkness…





A bloodcurdling scream.




The scene fades to black…



TO BE CONTINUED

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