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Sinclair pt2
12-05-2017, 08:47 AM
Post: #1
And my dear opponent speaks. I was half expecting him to drop grand lessons of great knowledge. After all, he’s supposed to be a very smart man. But I guess he lacks greatly in the common sense aspect of things

Erik Black sat on a white couch in a white room. To his right was a fully stocked wet bar. To his left was a trophy case. It held replicas of every title he'd won over the course of his career. There were the world martial arts tournament title. There were various wrestling titles. It held awards for wrestler of the year as well as decade.

Let me get this straight, Neville. You’ve been away nursing a blown out knee that you got during a match with that no skill ****** I just decimated….and you think you’re going to go to to toe with the most dangerous man walking this dirty rock? Let me say that again because even I can’t fathom this. You are on one leg…and you plan to, not only go to to toe with myself, but win? I thought you were a smart man, Neville. At least that’s what you’ve said about yourself previously. As it turns out, you’re about as dumb as a bucket of potatoes.

Tell me. How do you plan on beating me? Do you plan on out smarting me? If so, you need to try harder. I’m no fool, Mr. Sinclair. I’m not one to be trifled with either. Actual fighters can’t handle what I bring when they’re one hundred percent. And you? You aren’t even a real fighter. You’re fifty percent healthy at most. But you think you can beat me? That’s extremely laughable, Neville. I thank you for that. I needed a good laugh with everything that is going on right now.

Erik got up from the couch and walked over to the bar. He opened a glass box. He took out two ice cubes and dropped them into a glass he’d set on the bar itself. He reached under the bar, pulling out a bottle of Scotch. He poured the liquid into the glass and took a sip.

At least you’re confident, I guess. Of course that confidence is misplaced. You lack the skill to challenge me…especially on one leg. Hell..You lack the skill to challenge me even if you were completely healthy. You’re quite lucky that I’m a man of calm nature. Otherwise I would be tempted to end everything you are. But, luckily for you, I am past such trivial things. No. I’ll probably end the match before it even really starts. I’ll show you exactly where you belong. And you’ll just have to be happy with that.

Erik took another drink and grinned.

My time is very valuable, Mr. Sinclair. I’m making money every second of the day. I do not like for my time to be wasted. I do not like signing on to have a match, only to have a half crippled idiot like yourself thrown at me. I expect to be challenged in that ring, though I do suppose that I should be used to being let down. After all…there are very few people who could challenge me in combat.

I can’t help but shake the feeling that you’re trying your best to waste my time. You’ll talk a big game in this little war of words. You’ll say things you can’t hope to accomplish. And then? Well..You'll prove to yourself and the world that you never really had a shot. You’ll be let down…atleast when you wake up from the beating. And me? I’ll try to make up for the wasted time.

In another life, Mr. Sinclair, I would not let you wake up. No. I would snap your neck for simply believing you ever had a shot, thus wasting my time. I would make sure it happened quickly. Of course that would be for my sake. I destroy you. And then I would go attend to business. And there would be little you could hope to do. There would be even less hope if you came at me on one good leg. But things do happen. Accidents happen. I could accidentally snap your neck. It could happen. Think about that.

What I’m trying to say is simple. Don’t waste my time. If you aren’t ready to go full bore, then you should stay in your locker room. You should forfeit the match and try to get healthy. Then, maybe you could challenge me to this fight. Of course you would still lose. You would still be embarrassed. I’m just that good. When I say that I’m the best, I mean that I’m the best. I’ve proven this to be true over the course of my career. Yes I have losses. Everyone does. But they were few and far between. They were to real fighters who pushed their bodies further than they thought possible. You? You’re just another ****** with book smarts.

If you were really as smart as you claim to be, you would know how this ends. It doesn’t end with you storming to a win. No. It ends with but a whimper. Yours. I, meanwhile, will leave with this television title that I don’t even want.


Alexi Jaymz Yaroslav was a massive man. He stood seven feet, two inches. Scars covered his ugly face and he was built like a fucking house.

He was Zero Tolerance enforcer. And there was good reason for this. Jaymz was not human. He had an evil inside him that took over. No matter how hard he fought, the demon that resided within him took over his body. He couldn’t stop it. He relished these moments. He loved blood and gore.

When things needed done, Jaymz was the one to do it. This was especially true since Erik had been focused on running the business. Erik wasn’t far removed from getting his hands dirty, however. It was only a few years ago that Erik and Jaymz entered the hideout of their rival organization…and killed everyone there. But as I said, Erik had to run the company. It was Jaymz' job to get his hands dirty.

Jaymz had an office at ZT tower. It was in the basement. Jaymz was not a people person. He hated just about everyone. He likes his brother Erik and Crazy J. He loved his Julie. Everyone else? They were dead to him and the sooner he could make it do, the better.

Jaymz sat in the dark, facing the bare wall that his desk sat in front of. He wore a blank look on his scared face. He heard the door open but didn’t bother turning around in his chair, which was straining under his massive frame.

Erik Black walked through the door.

”Jaymz. We have something to attend to.

Jaymz nooded his massive head. ”I know. Are you gonna let me kill that over sized pussy?”, Jaymz said. He was still looking away.

The hairs on Erik's arms began to stand on end. He knew what was happening. Jaymz had power that couldn’t be explained. Any normal man would have been terrified at the feeling, but Erik was no normal man. He did not fear Jaymz. The two of them had fought twice now. Jaymz had come out on top, but Erik had given him much more than he could handle. How? Well. There were things Erik could do that weren’t normal. It was as if the two men were two sides of the same coin.

Erik thought about Jaymz’ question. Darkness hadn’t been killed by Rex Butler. He knew that Jaymz wanted to add Darkness to his list of casualties, but Erik knew that he had to be the one to finally put Darkness down.

”Jaymz. You know that it has to be me. He was my tag team partners. It was me that he left on that floor after his sneak attack. It’s me who has to feel his heart stop beating.”, Erik said flatly.

The hairs on Erik's neck began to stand on end. It felt like the entire building was shaking in Jaymz’ rage. Jaymz turned around. His eyes were black as night. A sneer crossed his face. Erik simply stated back at him. There was no fear in Erik's eyes.

” I need your help. We have one week to find him or he'll kill Rex. We can’t have that. I can say this. We find where he's hiding. We kill….everyone. But Darkness is mine.”, Erik said in his always emotionless voice.

Jaymz's sneer turned into a smile, but his eyes stayed black. ”Like old times.”, Jaymz said in a voice that was much deeper than before. It was demonic and spine tingling. Erik nodded his head.

Jaymz was referring to what they had done years ago. It was back before the great success of Zero Tolerance. It was back when they worked for another man. The two of them were this man's most dangerous assassin’s. Jaymz was the Boogeyman. He would kill his victims mercilessly. Erik? He was the man that was sent in when the Boogeyman wasn’t enough. He was the one who got the job done better than the Boogeyman.

”Ill find him., Jaymz's voice boomed.

Jaymz stood up and walked away. His footfalls made to sound on the bare floor under his four hundred pound frame.

Erik watched the big man walk away. He was relieved. With Jaymz helping, Things would go much more smoothly. That calmed Erik. It made things much more clear.

Erik sat there for some time. He thought about how things would go. He thought about how he would finally put the nail in Darkness’s coffin.


Mr. Sinclair. Do you think I want this title? I’ve said before that I don’t want it. I don’t need it. I’ve garnered enough praise during my long career that I don’t need any more. No. I only need to feed the beast inside me that thirsts for competition.

You? You’re obviously the kind of man who needs inanimate objects that shine in the sunlight so that your existence is justified. To put this in a way that you can understand this…I mean that you need gold so that you feel better about yourself. You obviously lack any semblance of real self worth. You feel rather useless without that gold strapped around your waist. It’s kind of sad to be quite honest.

I have to break the bad news to you, Neville. You’re going to have to deal with that feeling of worthlessness. You’re going to have to live with it. The only way you’re going to be getting the TV title back is to beat me. You don’t have the skill, Neville. You don’t even have the body. You’re on one leg. You couldn’t beat me if you were completely healthy. You surely have no chance at sniffing victory with a bum leg.

Saturday is not going to be nice for you. You’re already failing at this game of words. You speak nonsense that you can’t back up. You speak as if you’re the smartest man in the room. Well…the smartest man in the room would know when he’s beaten…when he’s in over his head.

You’re in over your head and you don’t even know it, Neville. This is a match you can’t hope to win. You couldn’t even get past the ****** I beat last week. That man left you broken….and he can barely brush his teeth in the morning. But he managed to leave you a broken man. Think about that for a second. A skill less ****** broke you. A man who does good to walk and breathe at the same time….broke you.

I would say that I feel bad for beating you so badly, but it would be a lie. Why? Well…It seems like the smartest man in the room is too stupid to save himself some pain and embarrassment.

Your return will be one full of pain, Neville. I truly hope you understand what you’re getting into.

[Image: 7ae0ddd2-29ba-45a3-b169-b05f779ca55e_zps...mbmmwk.jpg]
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