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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » "Savage Saturday Night" RP Board
KnightMask and the Old Master part 3
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KnightMask Offline
One half of Crimson Knights



XWF FanBase:
Some of everyone

(cheered; very rarely plays dirty; many likable qualities)


#1
04-05-2013, 08:10 PM

She struggled furiously to clamp her teeth down on the hand. If she could just get his hand off, maybe she could scream. A sudden hard slap sent her senses reeling. The world fuzzed about her. Strong fingers, steely sank into her soft skin. He slammed her down to the concrete and pinned her there. Earlier, she'd cheered as he'd done likewise to his opponent that evening. It seemed like a lifetime ago. As his face moved closer to hers, she closed her eyes. She felt a cold, sharp piece of steel press teasingly against her throat.

Suddenly, there was a release of pressure. She opened her eyes. One second, Trevor Austin was lower his leering face down towards her. Then he was gone.

KnightMask had heard the sounds of struggle as he was opening the door to his Trans-Am in the arena parking lot and immediately come running. When he saw the gleam of steel in the moonlight, he knew instantly that Austin--a wrestler he thought to have a bright future--was carrying a knife.

Running wasn't going to get him there in time enough to save the woman. And so he'd thrown all the strength he had into a desperate pounce, slamming into Austin and tearing him away from his intended victim. Austin was on his feet in an instant. Saved by instinct alone, KnightMask jerked his head aside as Austin's blade whizzed just past his head. Austin smiled coldly as his hands reached down beneath his leather jacket.

KnightMask didn't know what else Austin had up his sleeve, but he knew that he couldn't give him a chance to use it. As he charged at him, he came to the grim realization that any hope for his salvation lay in the perfect execution of one, single maneuver: the Flying Squirrel.

Austin had pulled out his Desert Eagle gun and was about to fire when KnightMask somersaulted over him, grabbing him by the waist and slamming Austin onto the concrete even as he was landing.


"You...you saved my life! You saved my life!" the woman exclaimed between wheezes.

"This is a dangerous individual, ma'am. I've seen what he can do in the ring. If you've got a phone on you, please call the police immediately. I've seen him take worse wallops that what I gave him just now."

KnightMask took Austin's leather jacket and turned it into his best effort at a makeshift straight jacket. Satisfied that it could hold at least until the police arrived on the scene, KnightMask started back to his car. As much as he wanted to skip it, he'd given his word he was going to meet The Old Man tonight and give him free reign on a knee-bar, just as the old man had given him a day earlier. A promise...was a promise. Even an insane one.


"KnightMask, I know what's going on. With the Mongoose Den. With the Old Man. You don't have to go. So what if you gave him your word...? What does that even really mean in the scheme of things? Is it more important that you keep your word and get crippled or that you can walk around on two good legs and stop SOB's like Trevor here...?"

KnightMask stopped for a moment. Then he kept walking. Talking about what he had to do wouldn't make a difference. What was there to talk about? A deal was a deal. His word...was his word. But blast it! It sucked to know that he was going to give up the sport he'd given everything to just for the sake of his word.

"He's my great uncle, KnightMask. There's a way out of this, you know."

KnightMask turned around. A silver key shined in her fingers beneath the fading sunlight.

"1024 West Sparta Drive. That's where he keeps it hidden. This key unlocks the front door, all the doors in the building. But you don't need all of them. Just go straight ahead...unlocking the big door in front of you, and you'll come to the safe. Even I don't know what's in there, though he trusted me with keys to it. But whatever it is, its something he fears. Some sort of information about him...something in his past...."

"You're going to help me blackmail your uncle...?"

"I'm going to help the guy who just saved my blasted life save his knee, KnightMask. I'm not telling you to break your word...but I doubt he'd break the leg of someone that he knows has full knowledge of whatever it is that's in that safe."

Silence passed between them. You could call what KnightMask was doing in that interval thinking, but it was more as if several feelings, ideas and convictions were pressing against one another, trying to assert themselves. It was as if they were having a sumo match inside his mind.

At last, the masked grappler held out his hand.


"Thanks."


The last vestiges of daylight had ebbed away from Sparta by the time he finally arrived before the Mongoose Den gym entrance.

A young wrestler he didn't recognize let him into a gym that was nearly empty, save for two men toiling on the wrestling mats at the far end, an older man lifting weights and The Old Man, sitting meditatively in the ring, wearing an ancient gi, with a blackbelt about his waste. As his lean, sharp face turned to face KnightMask, his eyes gleamed expectantly. He gave a slight bow of his head.

Something about the way he did it...and his overall manner suddenly made KnightMask feel ashamed if he didn't shed his boots and bow ceremoniously before stepping into the ring.


"Young man, I believe it is my turn now. Your leg, please?"

KnightMask sat down on the mat and stuck his leg out. He began to tingle as he felt the wiry legs clamp down around knee. The grim anticipation somehow took him back to the allergy shots he'd received as a child. Just as the man was wrapping his arms about KnightMask's heel, he suddenly slithered his leg free.

The Old Man didn't fight to maintain the hold. He simply looked at KnightMask serenely.


"Please, let me share with you, as you shared with me."

KnightMask took a deep breath. The old man placed him in a knee-bar absently but perfectly, as if execution of the technique were bound up within his the very fiber of his ancient being. KnightMask closed his eyes and waited. His leg extended until it was straight. He waited for the hyper-extension and the pop that would follow.

An eternity passed.


"Good. Good. Very good."

The old man released the hold. He was smiling. Not a wizened smile, but an exuberant smile. A child's smile. He bowed to KnightMask, who simply lay speechless on the canvas. The Old Man stood up and patted a withered hand on the would-be superhero's brown shoulder. He stepped out of the ring. At the door to the Mongoose gym, he hesitated for a moment.

"Did she offer you the key?"

"...yeah."

"And you took it?"

"Yes sir."

The old man seemed to consider this for a moment. Then he opened the door to the Mongoose Den dojo.

"Sir...what is in that safe...?"

He smiled. This time, it was an old man's smile.

"Something precious. Something that is safe with you."

"I took the key though...I...was going to try and get out of this. And I pulled my leg out at first...instead of letting you knee-bar it...I've dishonored myself."

The old man shrugged.

"Who among us is righteous? Who among us has honor that is clean? These things, we are forever grappling with. Is it proper for someone to cease their study of the grappling arts after being submitted once? Or being submitted 1,000 times? You know this already; they've only lost when they stop training. The ideal is a summit that can never be reached. And the climb towards it is arduous. Yet beneath it lies the abyss. I asked much of you. It was not an easy task I laid before you. If it was, then I would not have congratulated you upon its completion. And you did complete it. I am satisfied. You're worthy of your name...and of your mask. Hold on to the key, please."

The door closed behind him as he walked out into the night. KnightMask looked down at the silver key in his hand and determined that from this day forward, it would hang from his neck always. Whenever someone praised him as honorable, whenever he started to think himself more angel than man...he would grasp it. And he would remember.

[Image: index.php?ftpserver=localhost&ftpserverp...oMaker.jpg]
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