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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Warfare Boards » Warfare RP Board
The History of the Mask (Part 3)
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
03-03-2015, 08:05 PM



                                                                                                                              


















































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The damp smell of the cave fills the nostrils of LH Harrison as he takes an extra step towards the EX-Detective. The fragrance of booze and cigarettes fills the nose of Harrison who quickly turns his head in disgust. His eyes meet that of Trevor Dedntik’s.


What are we doing here, Trey? In fact, what the hell is going on period?

You haven’t figured it out yet? Weird. He called you The Prophet. Aren’t you supposed to… y’know… predict shit?

For the record, I didn’t ask for or take up that name. That name was bestowed upon me by Doc.

Oh Lou. Something tells me that he knows more than he’s saying.


Doesn’t he always?


Trey grunts in approval before taking another swig. He turns about face and walks into the center of the little cavern.


You asked what we’re doing here. Well we’re going to do a little treasure hunting.

Treasure hunting?



Harrison looks around in disgust and anger.


What is this? Some sort of game?

Isn’t it always with Lou?


I can’t believe this. You say I’m here for a purpose, Doc? Yet you send me on a wild goose chase for some apparent ‘treasure?’ I’m not here to play games, Doc. I know you can hear me.


C’mon Henry. I’m here to show you the way.


The way? You’re far too drunk to be leading me, or anyone else for that matter, around.


Boy, we don’t have time to waste.


We don’t? What’s the rush? Why is there any rush to get to anywhere in this damned cave?


Trey gives him a disbelieving look. He finally shakes his head.


What the fuck ever. I didn’t sign on to babysit. Suit yourself. You can take on The Beast yourself.


Beast?



As if on cue, a large and formidable growl emanates from the catacombs of the cavern. The entire structure seems to shake as a result of its bellowing. Harrison’s mouth is slightly agape as he looks over at Trey. Trey smirks and begins walking down the leftward tunnel. Harrison leaps to his feet and chases after the slow moving Trevor. He quickly catches up to him and grabs his arm. Trey quickly rips his arm free seeming definitely irritated.


What the… what the…


The Beast? Yeah you’ll have to slay it.


I-I will?


Yeah. If you hope to get out of here that is. You’re free to live here forever if that’s what you really want. Living in fear of The Beast who could nab you in your sleep at any time.


How do you know all of this?


I did it myself.


You did?! You slayed the beast.



A moment of hesitation.


Yeah, I beat him.


What does he look like? How did you slay him? Was he huge? No way that big a growl came from a tiny cat.


Look. I don’t want to talk about it. I got past it and got my treasures. That’s all that matters.



Harrison looks disgruntled and obviously yearning for more information. He settles down as they continue moving through the caverns. The further they go, the walls seem to change cover and shape. Where they started, the rock wall was grey and just stone. They continue moving and the walls begin changing from grey rock to black, softer with a layer of dirt. Every so often they’d see a group of vines interwoven into the dirt wall. Besides that, they continued to move forward into the light.

Finally they get to a point where there are torches aligning the walls for every fifteen yards or so. The light at the end of the tunnel had faded into darkness. They travelled on unwaveringly so. They finally came to a door in which the same design found on the previous encounters was imprinted on. Nothing could be seen in the halls at this point except for the glowing red design imprinted on the door and the glow filing in from around the edges. Harrison reaches for the nob when Trey places his hand there first. The two men stay paused for a moment or two.


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What are you doing Trey?

Behind this door is the sleeping chambers of The Beast. If you go in there, he will sense you and come to stop the intruder. I wanted to make sure you were ready.

No sense in stopping now.



Trey moves out of the way and Harrison turns the nob entering a room with such a high temperature that Harrison’s armhair and eyebrows are automatically a little singed. From where they enter, they are on a little overlooking ledge with stairs on both sides heading down into the main room. In the far back of the room is a large fire burning to the ceiling and not ceasing in size in the slightest despite no firewood or fuel to be explained. In the corner of the room is a large trap which has been utterly shattered. The bars have been melted and slashed out. A few feet in front of the all-encompassing fire is a metal chest. On the stone wall is one solitary sword in which looks weathered with age.

Harrison quickly rushes down the stairs and examines the chest. It’s metallic, but there appears to be no lock on it. He begins to slowly open the lid.




BBBRAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH



The bellowing sound comes from the gap beneath where they had entered from. LH slowly turns around and that’s when he sees it. Or a fragment of it.

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The red eye and piercing fingers stick through the darkness as foreboding warnings of death. Harrison looks slightly taken aback by its stopping in the edge of the shadow. Was it trying to frighten me?, Harrison thought to himself. Harrison looks over at the sword and rushes over to it. In a split second, an extended hand with three claws pins the sword to the wall. Harrison tries to pull it down from beneath the clawed hand, but a second hand sends him careening backwards. He adjusts himself and begins scouring the room trying to find anything that may be of use against this now fully exposed beast.

It has a shifting headshape that never stays in one shape despite the face not changing. Two large red eyes and an open mouth with a long black tongue exiting its inferno-like mouth. It walks on four tree-trunk like legs which all have claws at the bottom of them. The entire being is black with red streaks going down its body. In addition to all of that on the eight foot tall creature, coming from its back are hands attached to what seem to be tentacle-like arms. They float in the air looking for a striking opportunity while one clawed hand holds the sword in place on the wall. Harrison tries to quickly count the hands, but they move to quickly and are too numerous. He stops counting after reaching twenty-two.

During this assessment of The Beast, he notices that several of the bars of the cage have been severed off and form sharp edges. He quickly rushes there, but a clawed hand cracks him over the head. The Beast seems to be toying with him. Luckily, the Beast sent him right where he wanted to go. He leaps to his feet with two sharpened stake-like poles. He rushes the Beast who begins sending hand after hand to stop him. With his full attention on him, Harrison can successfully parry these blows until he gets close enough. He then jabs one of the stakes into the shoulder of The Beast who boisterously cries out in fury. Harrison begins moving towards the right side of the room where the hand is still holding the sword in place. Harrison raises his sliced off pole and brings it down in a cutting motion!


The hand falls to the ground as deep black blood oozes everywhere. The arm retracts back to the Beast who howls again. The Beast looks at LH Harrison and his eyes turn a deeper shade of red. The fight had apparently pissed off The Beast. The Prophet picks up the sword and weighs it. Upon doing so, he learns that it’s more weighted for two hands than one. He places both hands on the extended handle and charges The Beast! The monster doesn’t waste any time as he charges with thunderous footsteps towards him as well. Ten hands fly at Harrison at once as he tries to slice them off or parry them away. He’s successful with eight or nine, but the final two slice his sides causing blood to flow. The giant mouth of The Beast is open as magma begins flowing through his jagged teeth.

LH successfully dodges around before sinking his sword to the hilt underneath the jaw of the monstrous Beast! The Beast stops moving. It then begins shaking profusely with magma shooting in all directions with all of it narrowly missing Harrison. The Prophet continues to hold his sword in place until The Beast begins… disintegrating. The body begins evaporating into a red and black storm cloud above where the body was. The entire body has vanished into this cloud. Harrison looks at it curiously before poking it with his sword. As he does so, it begins circling in the air and heads straight for LH. It flows into the mouth and nostrils of Harrison as he’s lifted into the air absorbing it. Trevor finally comes down and is in utter shock looking at the floating Harrison. The Prophet finally falls to the ground.

His face is red and steam is literally coming off of him. Trey looks confused and can’t believe what he just witnessed. Harrison finally stands up and pops his neck. He exhales and a puff of smoke exits his nose. His eyes open and Trey jumps back which shock. His normally green eyes are now replaced by a two yellow ones with pupils angled much like that of a lizard.

He blinks a few times and the eyes return to their normal green hue. Trevor looks at him with a little bit of fear in his eyes. He can’t believe what he’s witnessing.


Did you just absorb The Beast’s essence?


I do believe I did.

That’s… what the fuck…


LH Harrison picks up the sword in which he’d dropped. He examines it and see on the sword it has the written letters LH on one side in a fancy print. He smirks and then takes his glance towards the chest in the room.


This had better be worth all of that.



Harrison kicks open the chest to reveal a leather-bound book and a cloth mask. It resembled the one he wore when he… wait. Something was different. He picks up the cloth mask and is almost overcome with a strange sense of power. His muscles tense, and his breath shallows. He lifts up The Mask and examines it thoroughly. Then the floor gives way.




LH Harrison is experiencing what he’s experience once too many times in this journey. The unusual feeling of free-falling through time and space with nothing but darkness around him. It all comes to an end when he lands back first on a sofa. He hears ticking and tocking.

Tick…



Tock…




Tick…









Tock…

LH Harrison realizes it’s his watch. He then takes a look around to realize he was right back in the loft. He can’t believe that he was actually back.


Welcome back, Mr. Harrison.


Harrison’s head shoots back around and it’s met by the icy cold blue reception of Doc’s eyes. His smile is almost too wide for his own face.


Have a nice trip?

What just happened?

Why you were granted your purpose in life, Mr. Harrison. You called looking for a purpose in the XWF so long ago and I gave it to you. I gave you purpose. Now, it’s the next step my Prophet.


Harrison looks down at the mask between his fingers. His clothes and the rest of him looks no different from when he left. He holds up the mask towards Doc. The power running through the stitching is almost intoxicating as he drops it on the table. The Doctor’s smile lessens as he begins drumming on the table in front of him softly in a strange melody unfamiliar to LH.


I trust we know the origin of that mask. You created it to disguise your identity once before. I’d like for that to happen again. Before you ask the question why, hear me out. What makes a better impression on a person? A slap that the person receiving is warned about before it happens or a slap that comes out of nowhere?


Harrison nods his head and motions for him to continue. The Doctor smiles.


Precisely. Announcing you as the head of a new group would only allow themselves to prepare for what they would eventually encounter. By having your true identity be disguised, that would leave us with an Ace in the Hole. So put on the mask. Embrace it.


Harrison hesitantly looks at the mask before looking back to Doc. Before he does so, he lifts up the leather-bound notebook.


What about this?

That? That is The Book of The Higher Power. But you may recognize it… please read verse 1 in chapter 1.


The Doctor’s eyes are practically beaming now. Harrison flips open the cover and reads verse 1 of chapter 1.


“The three men cometh, the three men impact, the three men shall fall.” It’s my notebook? I thought I ditched it?

You did, but I felt it would be an invaluable asset to this cause. As you go along you will add more to it and read to the masses as a certain guide to The Asylum.

The Asylum?

Why yes. What’s a psychoanalyst like myself to do without patients in which to diagnose? You will bring me my patients and together… we shall teach this world how to exist in darkness and learn to embrace its qualities. Mr. Harrison, it’s time. To put on the cowl of my crusades and become the guide to immortality alongside me. Take your place by my side… Hysteria.


Harrison pulls the mask up to his face, but looks questioning at the Doctor before sliding the cloth over his face. Harrison’s hands begin to tremble before drumming his fingers in the exact same pattern that Doctor D’Ville had done just a few moments ago. The Doctor’s smile stretches even further now. Hysteria stands to his feet, holds up the Book of The Higher Power up and begins laughing with an utmost malice and a twinge of insanity. He stops abruptly and points at Doctor D’Ville.


All yours, My Higher Power.


Bahahamahaha!




















The man, the myth, Mystica. How nice of you to stop by! Is there anything else you’d like to trivialize? Why don’t you hypothesize on the rapture and the impending aftermath that shall proceed after? It’d be nearly as relevant as you’ve been so far. One has to wonder if my mailman know that he’s in a match this upcoming show? Maybe I should ask him next time. Considering you could very well be him! How incredibly droll. For your own sake, I will surmise that you aren’t that rotund gentleman. Although if your identity at the moment did happen to coincide with Mr. Peterson, then perhaps my job at Warfare just got that much easier. The gelatinous imbecile gets tired walking up steps yet you are attempting to keep up with the stamina and endurance of the Rockstar of Rhetoric and the Prophet of Pertinence?

Keep spewing your enhanced vocabulary at the philistine masses. If they can even comprehend what you’ve spoken, they will rebuke you for being the quintessential con artist. We’ve heard it for a while from your own mouth. You’re a god or an omnipotent being of sorts. Even if we were to entertain the aspect, why would you come to a place such as the XWF? What purpose would it serve? To step into a modern-day Coliseum to test your strengths against mere fragile creatures as you stated?

How mundane. How very Zeus of you. Especially with the children of yours. It wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest to learn that the mother was none other than your own sister, troglodyte.

You’re gifted with the ability to create and destroy and you elect to elevate your own ego while flicking off fleas much like the dog you are? What a pathetic sport you are. If I’d been blessed with ‘powers’ of such magnitude, I wouldn’t be wasting my time in a wrestling federation inflating my own ego. Perhaps you should reassess what your true focus is. After all, coming at me with the ‘you’re futile humans’ argument is fairly simplistic for a mind as sharp as yours. I’ve faced a hell-beast and the likes of Cain from the Old Testament. Do you really think I should have any reservations when facing an ostentatious paradox? Not fucking hardly.

Oh but you’re all powerful right? You’re able to manipulate time and space? Why the hell would you ever lose, right? Then again, it’s seldom it’s happened. Kudos, but the question still lays in wait. Why should a being of your aptitude ever lose?

And now we wait. Try not to keep me waiting too long Mystica. Time is of the utmost importance and your day or reckoning is at hand. As for burying me six feet under? I welcome the attempt Mystica. You should recollect what happened to the last man who attempted to do the same to me. I crawled up through the dirt and worms and pulled him down as I ascended into my place of dominance.

Bring it pseudo-god. The Best of Both Worlds are waiting.

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