"The rites are carved into your forehead...
Limb from limb...
Engorged into your psyche...
Limb from limb..."



The war with your psyche is vicious. Fucking vicious. Your brain is thinking and convinced it is on a constant scale of warfare where you're trying to battle with what you feel is morally correct...versus what you know and feel is correct. This is where grey areas come into play. What you feel is the right and correct thing in your mind, brain and heart, versus what it's supposed to be society's grasp on what they view as being morally and socially acceptable...and of course majority of the time what is viewed as the "correct" thing to do...well most people just don't want to follow through with that.

The war with your psyche is destructive. Absolutely, fucking, carnally, destructive. It's going to be nipping at your heels continuously as you feel you have been driven and drawn to a flowing and rushing constant flood of dark-fueled adrenaline that encircles and encompasses you begins to eat you. It begins to devour you. Pulling apart your mental state of mind like you merely nothing more than a piece of visceral flesh as it taunts you and uses you. It will cough you up, and spit you right the fuck out. It will deplore you in a constant cesspool of descended madness...and well most people just try to fight it. But they never win...they never fucking do.

Finally, the war with your psyche however...is addictive. Obsessively, fucking, addictive. That constant war on your head? That's like the best drug that is ever possibly obtainable. Well at least in the head of Damon Tyler that's what he thought. That constant battle. Those demons. That psyche. Constantly swimming around circles in rain and constantly engaged in a vicious circling battle against one another, ripping shreds against other...Damon viewed that as being nothing short of absolute fucking addiction. To him it was grandeur. Brilliance. Incredible. He wouldn't happen to have it any other way and he sure as hell wasn't going to fucking try. That battle of his psyche was addicting. Absolutely addicting. Those shades of scars that were now fundamental parts of his brain was absolutely everything he craved. Being at war himself...and how that was going to affect his opponent...fuck cocaine, that's the real shit right there.

***

The scene draws us to a darkened throne room of sorts. Definitely something that could be described as macabre. The general view of the room is black and silver, darkened metal, almost as it gave the vibe and atmosphere of perhaps some kind of distorted, idyllic, hub of solitude. The sculpting and shifting steel definitely having major implications in regards to the room's general ambience...the mood was dark, conniving, sinister...and perhaps a hint of class thrown in to the mix as well.

With the throne room coming into fruition, once again there was Damon Tyler dressed in a sharp suit just seated at the throne. Half-finished cigarette in hand, the smoke emanating from the cigarette flooded and travelled like a serene stream, adding a definite shade of atmosphere to the scene on hand. Damon seated directly stared at the camera as he prepared to speak.

"I can't help but feel there's this constant war in my head. It keeps talking to me you know? This smooth, graceful, angelic voice...and how could I possibly even begin to predict that what I feel sounds like a smooth angel...is perhaps the devil of my psyche that is directly controlling every single action, movement and decision that I choose to promptly make on God's forsaken green earth?"

"Funny ain't it. Funny how your brain could battle itself trying to tell you one thing, whilst the other side of your head is imploring to do the opposite. Two sides, two different factions...good and evil...heaven and hell...constantly butting heads as you're stuck in just this continuous state of limbo, grasping for answers, clawing out for solutions and just praying and hoping that perhaps you've made the right decision...but I digress...because sometimes the best decision you make and the one you want to make and choose might not be what society infers as being the proper, moral choice."

Damon lays back on the chair before proceeding.

"But please let me divulge you for a moment and riddle you this. What is right huh? WHAT IN TODAY'S FUCKING DAY AND AGE CAN BE CONSIDERED RIGHT!? CORRECT!? THE BEST THING TO DO!? BECAUSE IF YOU ASK ME IT'S ALL BULLSHIT! None of it makes sense because every time someone in the world thinks they can go ahead and jump on their moral high horse because they believe that deep down in their mind they have somehow ended up making a good decision? ...Someone else will suffer. In economics, there's a concept called the "Pareto Efficiency". Have you heard of it? Well I sure as hell know my opponent this Saturday night Rain hasn't because anyone who has two cents or peas for a brain would know that dressing up like that died with that entire trendsetting, colossus of a godawful statement a decade ago...but the Pareto Efficiency? Well let me enlighten you.

And a smirk now comes across the face of Damon...slightly devilish in quality.

"The Pareto Efficiency is the concept where no one can be better off in the world today without another person suffering consequences as a result of it...and this concept is something that I truly and fully believe in. No matter what significant or insignificant decision rattles in their head, and comes out of their goddamn mouth when they make that choice...someone will get affected by it. Let's think of an example...how about this Saturday night, with these demons fighting in my brain and telling me what choice I have to make...let's say I make the decision that I'm going to let that angelic voice inside of me control every single action I make in that ring in my match and in the process getting the victory...so that benefits me. But The Pareto Efficiency kicks in so for someone to better off, someone has to suffer consequences as a result of the action, so with that principle in place...that means Rain will suffer those consequences. He'll be destroyed. Brutalised. Fucking annihilated. He's worse off because of the pain, carnal mayhem and aggregate destruction that I will end up inflicting on him, and I'll end up better off because I ended up destroying him, I ended up putting XWF on notice and most importantly I will exit that ring with an undeniable victory on my hands."

And with this statement, Damon puts the cigarette out in an ornate, steel ashtray before leans directly into the camera lens, focusing nothing but pure intention.

"Now you might think I'm going off-topic here. Hell, you might think I've descended into a state of stark-raving venting here but that couldn't be further from the truth. Couldn't be further from the truth at all. You see it all comes to a point here. The Pareto Efficiency, the war that my psyche battles every single minute of every single fucking day, and finally making that moral choice...you see because of the efficiency concept I've accepted that every decision I choose to make will make someone better off at the cost of hurting and causing damage to someone else...and that. Is. Perfect. Every decision these demons choose me to make I trust instinctively because I know that this swirling cascade of darkness that is ravaging in my mind will look out for me and will pick a decision that is in my best intentions. Even if that means I have to destroy and absolutely decimate you on Saturday night, Rain."

"So with those battles echoing in my brain. With that constant war that is daily re-occurrence in my mind, it comes down to the whole moral debate and all of that ingrained bullshit whatever the hell it maybe. Choosing what is morally correct...versus what you feel is correct. But there's the third option. The third path. And that is the path that my inner demons and my psyche's war tell me to accept and utilize time and time again. Forget the moral route. Forget how I feel. Instead, those demons...she'll always tell me to pick with what I know is correct."

"I'm not doing anything with sudden, instant gut hunches or any moral and ethical dilemmas that have chosen to make themselves apparent...oh no far from it. Far from all of that megalomaniacal bullshit. When I hear that voice...she talks to me. Her presence...it defines who I am on this earth today as a human being as well as every single thing I stand for and at the end of the day when it is all said and done her voice echoes like a trailing, guiding, karmic whisper that levitates and parts it's way through forest...and directly into the ashen-ed, citadels of hellfire and brimstone because when I hear...and she makes that choice for me...then those demons control me Rain. She. Controls me."

"Every single action and movement I do now is under her discretion. So if she decides that I have to beat and you brutalize you to a bloody pulp to send a message...well then that's what I'm doing. If she decides that I have to decimate in you front of waves and waves of people across the globe watching your viral live physical evisceration taking place before their very own sets of eyes...then that's the action I will be taking. Best of luck, Saturday night because she's there Rain. That voice. She's there. She's Always. Fucking. THERE."

"Pittsburgh's Prodigal Son" Damon Tyler
Win Loss Record - 6 | 0 | 0

ACCOLADES
1 x XWF Television Champion (Current - Won 8/18/18)