Threaded Mode | Linear Mode

Ghost Tank · (05-23-2018)

Little Pig, Little Pig, you dumb cunt. You should've just shut the fuck up. I have nothing to prove to you. I have no clue who the fuck you are. You seem to "know" me, so maybe it was my Father, Oswald. He held my name until he became his Broken self. Then, my Brother, Panzer, became a nuisance to our father, as well as taking every last drop of his powers, or so he thought, until the 7 Deities endowed him with power again and created me, with that power. I was shelved years back, have you not heard anything I've said on the topic? I am the persona my Father had before he became The Phoenix, and then Death Incarnate. I am the nature of his form that was psychotic, destructive, willing to tear ass apart and eat it raw. Look back in the archives of XWF, go back to October 2014 to when I fought Calypso. That's pretty much all me. Every time you saw my Father in character, that was when he was accessing me. When he wasn't talking to that fucking bitch boy, Alvald.

I know nothing about tagging with you, or how "I" broke your heart, at all. So fuck you, and fuck the dead horse you rode in on. Unlike my brother, shunning our Father, I embrace him. And you will see why people were afraid of him in those early days. Destruction is key, and I, am its holder. There is nothing more than fucking destroying the fuck out of anything living. Chaos has nothing to do with it. I simply enjoy breaking shit. At Second Chance, you and Prolapso are going to feel that power, feel the very essence of what made me a menace in that month of living before I was locked away.

So, tell me, Pig. What in the fuck do you think you're going to be doing at our match? Do you think you'll be able to beat me in return? Do you think you're leaving that show with MY title? You are nothing more than a fly in the world in comparison to me. I am going to burn everything to the ground, and leave with gold. Want to know why?

Because I am the goddamn New Breed of Beast.

I AM a New Kind of Monster.

At the PPV, you will fall, just like others have. You will be nothing more than a suckling piglet, wishing he was sucking on the teat of success, instead of the rotting, torn teat of his Mama Pig.

Ghost Tank walks across a marsh, grumbling. While Bearded War Pig decides to pussyfoot around and follow in Ghost Tank's steps, the New Breed is hunting the world's largest and most terrifying creatures. And now, he finds himself in a Louisiana bayou. To hunt and kill something, the Bétail Cocodril. A monstrous alligator, basically. It has grown to massive proportions, and much like Разрушитель человека, he wanted to combat it. To train, to show he was capable of dealing with any obstacle, no matter who or what it was, he would destroy it. So here he was, muck clinging to his pants until he just barely caught a glance of Bétail Cocodril before it submerged itself, but GT could see it making its way through the water quickly, until he stopped seeing the movement of the water, and didn't know where it would've disappeared to, until he felt VERY sharp teeth snapping around his left leg, before it tried to go for its death roll, Ghost Tank threw a very hard punch to its skull, hearing a crunch and feeling his fingers breaking, but when he used his good hand to grab the now very stunned alligator, he saw he had cracked its skull, but in this trade, he got the worst of the trade. Still, he had stunned the creature. As it regained its senses, it would begin to swim away, realizing this was not a fight it should pick. At least not for now.

Ghost Tank, however, did not want to let it go so easily and gave chase, going deeper and deeper into the bayou, making his way after the animal, wanting to destroy this fucking thing, and be rid of it forever.

Light shines down upon Ghost Tank, a dim, almost broken light, as it flickers back and forth every minute or so. An XWF cameraman warning GT about him recording via waving a finger towards him from out of the camera's sight. The light Illuminating him, then flickering, showing him as if he is in nothing more than a shadow before turning on again.

Calypso, what do you fucking mean about 4 years? I'm picking up from when you won. I'm picking up from when I was on top. Did I have missteps? Yes. You, Frodo. That Horseman or whatever the fuck his name is. You three were the only blemishes on my fucking record. Since then, I've beaten Peter yet again, I've beaten some nameless fuck by putting them both on my hooks. My record is back to how it used to be. Showing my dominance. Don't forget the second triple threat, Stone Cold Steve Austin and some nameless hack, Bobbie something. Since I've come back, I've beaten four men. This is yet another triple threat. So far, I've been demolishing them. At first I was angered. I wanted a clash of brute strength. Mountains of men beating one another fucking senseless.

But then we have you, a stick thin fucking cunt. You must've used that hysterical strength people say parents have when their children are in harm's way and about to get squashed to fucking hell.

Ghost Tank chuckles, smirking slightly, revealing blackened teeth.

Calypso, this isn't like the last time we fought. You fought a man plagued by injury and mental decay. Now, you fight an enigma. Four years may have passed, but to me, it's November going on December, and I am in the flesh. No longer restricted. I am going to win. I am going to become the X-treme champion, I will fuck both of you up in order to do it. I will send both of you to the fucking hospital, screaming in agony with your spleens punctured with poles, your assholes prolapsed after I fistfuck them. You remember how big I am, Calypso. You remember how it feels to get fucked by me. You can be scared or you can be not scared, I don't give a fuck. I don't intend on scaring anyone but the children that watch me maul you both. The Greatest Generation, the Baby Boomers, gasping in awe and disgust as you two are fucking being torn apart. As I forcibly castrate you both with my goddamn toenails.

Yeah, they're that sharp.

This match will be nothing more than a war of attrition. The thing is? I never lose my power. I never lose my stamina. I will go hard, I will go deep, and I will fucking destroy you, especially. This is a match you shouldn't be a part of, but you know what? I'm turning over a new leaf. I empathize with Pig. But both of you don't deserve the title. You should stay the Federweight champ. You belong on the lowest rungs of the company. I have less losses, and more wins, than you will ever hope to achieve. Your only claim to fame is beating me. While I feel like my career is picking up in what others might think of as "the past", I call that shit my future. I have three and a half years worth of ball bursting, spine breaking, blood shedding, to catch up to you all. I'm moving on to my future. What are you constantly doing?

Living in the past, like the joke you are. You are simply another opponent. I aim to rectify my loss, but if I do lose again? It's no skin off my back, because I have other people to beat. I have others to show I am the most destructive force in the XWF.

Keep living in the past, because my future is shining bright, and the moment you look at it?

You will become blinded, you will become nothing more than a win in my career, as I push forward to bigger and better heights.

The destructive force of the New Breed of Beast, the power of the New Kind of Monster as I plow the lands of the XWF and forge my destiny as not only the future X-Treme Champion, but as the future XWF Universal Champion!

All it will take, is to line the body of a Pig, and the body of someone that is equal to being XWF's living ass boil, Calypso, upon the road of my success.

The future of Ghost Tank starts at the XWF's Second Chance pay-per-view.

He laughed maniacally as the light began to flicker, as Ghost Tank rushed the cameraman, grabbing him before flinging him from his spot, causing the camera to fall to its side. Each second passing showing only pieces of what the Beast is doing. Squishing, squelching, sounds of liquid splattering against the ground, with screams and gurgling accompanying it.

The next sight is something big being tossed over GT's shoulder, each flicker acting like a 90's camera shutter, as if someone was taking pictures, and the flash was going off like crazy. Stills in time, barely in motion. The thing that had been tossed, lands before the camera, the next thing seen is the thing seemingly rolling, and then in the next flickering, an ear is seen, and then in the moment after the flicker, the entire face of the cameraman is shown, his eyes bleeding, having burst open from the pressure of thumbs crushing them. The mouth open, and it showed nothing, for the tongue had been torn straight from the mouth and from where the neck was torn, through sheer force of Ghost Tank's body, sticking out of the esophagus, is the man's tongue. As the camera showed most of the mouth, out of the left side of the screen, inside of the mouth, something appeared...

Then, darkness, as Ghost Tank's laugh reverberates through the speakers of those listening in as the sound fades to nothingness.

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode The Hunt Begins
Author	Message