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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » Leap of Faith 2019 RP Board
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Past meets present - A Vampire Story
Author Message
Mick Ashcroft Offline
That monster in the tan trench coat



XWF FanBase:
Hardcore, psycho fans

(cheered for breaking rules and bones; excessively violent; creative with weapons)


#1
07-17-2019, 03:58 PM



Norwich, England
December 18th, 1785


It was a cold night, the streets all but deserted, when Mick Ashcroft found himself strolling home from the pub. A song on his lips and not a care in the world. Sure life was hard during these times but he was gainfully employed and on top of that, he did just exit the bar. One of the few recreational activities a fellow could occupy their time with, aside from fucking, taking part in illegal, back room boxing or going to the theater but who the hell wants to go to the theater? The only thing worse than that was attending church. No, Mick was a working man and after a long day of hard labor, manufacturing stone, clay, cement, concrete, and glass down at the factory, all he wanted to do was have a pint and take a load off. Which is precisely what he did and now, he was on his way home, back to his loving wife, Sarah and their two children, Isabella and Cyrus.


Based on the hour though, it was certain they'd be fast asleep. The children would be anyway. Sarah would more than likely be tending to things about the house. Mending clothes and tidying up. General busy work, till her husband came home. She didn't mind him occasionally stopping at the pub after work, still that did not put a halt on her worrying. Not that she had a reason to be concerned, that was simply her nature. After all, he always returned home to her. However, on this night, when the frigid air blew with ferocious intent and the darkened streets were barren, things would take a much different turn. A turn for the most deadly and tragic. For tonight Mick would take a sporadic detour down an alleyway, with nothing pressing in mind, other than the fact that he had to relieve his bladder and in the blink of an eye, fate would change his course... forever.


After walking down the alleyway for a bit, Mick stopped to take a piss. It was mid-stream, when he heard it. Feet crunching over ice and newly fallen snow. Thinking nothing of it, beyond the fact that it was merely a passerby, Mick finished up. Yet before he could turn away from the wall, an icy cold hand, grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed him against the wall. No matter how hard he struggled, he could neither free himself of the hand's grip, nor push away from the wall. Instead he was greeted by cruel laughter and a woman's voice.


"And here I thought it wasn't going to be my night."


Within less than a second, teeth tore into the side of Mick's neck. But not just any type of teeth. Fangs ripped into his flesh, like what would belong to some sort of vicious beast or wild animal. There was nothing human about what occurred, despite the fact that human sounding words, were previously spoken. Mick felt as though his very life force was being drained away. As a sort of numb sensation washed over him. Try as he might, he attempted to fight it off, to no avail. His body lost the strength to stand and before long, that chilled grip was the only thing that held him upright. When the hand released its hold, Mick dropped to the ground like a sack of so many potatoes. Nothing more than a heap on the ground, barely clinging to consciousness and literally life itself, Mick felt his head get yanked backwards and a wrist was placed in front of his mouth. Even through the haze of eternal sleep, threatening to take him, he could see blood dripping from a freshly created wound.


"Drink."


The mysterious voice commanded. To which Mick replied with nothing more than shaking his head - no.


"Drink or die."


Both presented options forced Mick to close his eyes, he thought of the hardship his family would be put through and the struggles they would have to endure. And then, with the last remaining ounces of strength, he grasped onto that wrist and he drank. Instantaneously filled with an intense need, he drank until he was forced to stop. When the hand shoved him to the ground, he fell laughing. Swiftly turning his attention toward the source of all that befell him, he discovered that he was now, alone. Had it been a dream, was it just a nightmare, brought on by one too many? No, alas it was not and Mick discovered that, real quick. His heart started racing as he gasped and sat up in the snow. Eyes wide, it felt like all of his organs were rupturing, simultaneously. The pain was excruciating and seemed to go on endlessly. Wrapping his arms around his gut, Mick slumped over and screamed.


He writhed about on the ground in torment, the torture unbearable and the sound of his own heart, thundering loudly in his chest... nearly deafening. As he fought to take in air. Except he couldn't breathe. Each and every gasp was a failed attempt. Then all at once, everything ceased. Everything stopped. The merciless, unyielding agony that fluctuated through his entire body like a vicious serpent slithering around his insides, relentlessly attacking everything in sight, ended its warpath. His heart. Sat silent in his chest, nary a single beat. Even his breathing. Halted. It was as if Mick Ashcroft's body, shut off. Every organ stopping their individual function at precisely the exact same time. He lay in the snow, staring straight at a brick wall but saw... nothing.


Darkness covered him like a blanket, it overtook his vision completely, blotting it out in the same fashion a slow moving ink stain might spread on a piece of paper and the streets were once again, quiet. Tiny snowflakes started to drift down as Mick Ashcroft's lifeless eyes gazed outward. Unblinking. Several moments passed and then, with the force and power of an electrical surge from deep within, Mick abruptly sat up. Shot up like a bat out of hell. Turning his head frantically, from left to right, he now looked upon the world, with brand new eyes.


Everything appeared more crisper and clearer. Small details stood out as they had never done before. He swore that when he turned his focus to the moon, it was like witnessing it for the very first time, only grander and far more exquisite. Skin cells on his hand were now magnified. Individual flakes of snow could be seen and when he set his sights down the alleyway, he could see for miles, on top of miles away. Although that wasn't the only enhanced sense that he arose, finding himself gifted with. Mick's hearing also took on an amplification and when he focused in a certain direction, that only increased. Babies crying, husbands arguing with wives, snoring and the distinct sound of a horse's hooves could be heard and it was all totally overwhelming. Mick had to cover his ears and shut his eyes, in order to turn it all off.


This was madness in its finest. That could have been the only explanation. Pulling his legs up close to himself, Mick rested his head against his knees and that's when he realized there was a definite sensation that was missing. No longer did he feel his heart beating within his chest and noticing that, only made him pay mind to the fact that his lungs, weren't filling with air. A deep breath did nothing but briefly pull in a bit of oxygen; however, he had zero desire to continue such an action. His body didn't crave it or feel the need to repeat the process. It was as if he were dead, for only the dead were missing those attributes but that was impossible. The dead don't move around, do they?


Not knowing what happened, there was one undeniable urge that literally came shrieking its way through his very skull. Like a banshee begging to be noticed. An overpowering desire that made itself known with a fierce need to be fulfilled. Hunger. But hunger for what... that was the question. It was then, that a sharp, unmistakable sound of whistling could be heard. Mick lowered his hands and tilted his head to the side, just in time to see a police officer walking by. Baton in full on twirl as he patrolled the streets.


The police officer turned his head and Mick's eyes, met his. Before the copper could make a sound, Mick was to his feet. Moving with incredible velocity and precision, Mick had the police officer by the throat, within a matter of a few seconds. Without a moment of hesitation or even a second thought given edgewise, he sunk a pair of fangs, deep into the copper's throat. Thus ripping out a large portion of flesh, he followed this act by draining the law official dry. When the illicit deed was finished, Mick let the man's body drop backwards into the snow, with a heavy thud. His eyes set in a cold, lifeless stare, penetrating Mick with accusation. Unsure of what to do, Mick nudged the police officer with his boot. The cop did nothing. As most dead bodies tend to do. Horrified, Mick backed away from the lifeless corpse, half stumbling in the process.


Questions bombarded Mick's mind. Why did he do that? What drove him to do that? How did he possess the ability to do that? And why did it make him feel so damn... satisfied? That last question sent him off, running at high speed, not daring to look back, the reality of the situation far too frightening to grasp. His body tore through the frosty night air, faster than ever before. Mick fled the scene of the crime. Both a murderer and a monster. He ran.


[Image: LZCaAYV.png]


Brooklyn, New York
Present Day


Scorching couldn't begin to describe the weather in New York. With summer in full effect, the sun beat down with relentless aggression. Turning the city streets into a virtual oven that was used to cook the entire population. In an excruciatingly long, drudging sort of fashion. Lucky for them, there was a festival going on to keep their minds off the fact that they were all roasting alive. Plenty of food, rides, games and a stage set to provide live entertainment of the musical variety. Everyone was having a great time, in spite of the heat, forgetting their cares and giving themselves up to the reckless abandonment that this kind of event usually provides. Everyone that is... except Detective Mick Ashcroft. Who was assigned to offer protection and keep a vigilant watch over this function, alongside his partner...


[Image: D4Fckw4.jpg]
Riley St. Croix


Riley and Mick had been partners for years and when she was invited to join the Brooklyn police department, she convinced Mick to come along for the ride. There was no one she trusted more on the force and he felt the same, so the argument was easily won. Still after all the time that she knew him, she had no idea that her partner was a blood sucking, fang baring, cold blooded creature of the night. Talk about being a good detective, right? Or perhaps she did know the truth and simply chose to live in denial and look the other way. Who's to say really? One thing is for certain, she found his general disdain and annoyance with the combined aspects of the gathering and weather, hilarious.


"I thought the Grinch only came out during Christmas?"


She intentionally poked the bear for the fun of it as they strolled the grounds of the festival.


"You know I'm not a particular fan of the sun and during the summer I hate it even more, then you've got all these people mulling about, acting a fool of themselves. It's all one big headache, if you ask me. Why two detectives were brought in to patrol and guard this obnoxious shit show is beyond my realm of comprehension. A load of pure rubbish. This is a job for the beat cops... boys in blue, that spend more time in the local doughnut shop, than they do working the streets."


"Oh they're here too. Look there's one now. Eating a churro."


Riley pointed towards a fully uniformed police officer; literally, pleasing a churro, orally. That's how transfixed he was with eating the thing. It was rather disturbing to behold.


"Lovely."


"Anyway, I think that's why we were assigned to this thing, to offer an actual service. Plus, we're in plain clothes, we can blend right in and no one is the wiser. Well, I can. You've worn that same tan trench coat ever since the moment we first started working together. How can you wear that thing in this heat? You must be cooking alive."


"I run cold blooded. Besides, what would you suggest, something like that?'


Mick nodded towards a man in bright pink shorts and a hawaiian shirt that consisted of every color in the rainbow. Upon sight, Riley instantly burst out laughing.


"Yes, please. I would literally pay to see that."


"Yeah, well don't hold your breath love, I'm not about to trade in my dignity just yet."


"Says the detective returning to the shining spotlight of professional wrestling."


"Heard about that, did you?"


"Hell yeah. I watch all the XWF shows. Thanks to TiVo. The big pay-per-view, Leap of Faith is coming up and I noticed my partner's name was back on the list of competitors. The Drezdin Open - 50K Special, Four Corners Match. You're scheduled to take on Drezdin, Barney Green and StigMartyr in the opening match. That's huge. Epic even."


"Is it now?"


"Absolutely."


"Really? Now that wouldn't be because you're waiting on pins and needles to torture me about being in a fight with two nothing pieces of cannon fodder and a hasbeen that reached his prime and passed it, two returns ago, would it?"


"No... well, maybe but that's only if you lose. You don't think you'll lose, do you?"


"You put money on the fight, didn't you?"


"Noooo... I wouldn't do that, I don't gamble."


"You know I can tell when you're lying."


"Alright... fine, I may have put some cash down on the fight but it was in favor of you, so at least there's that plus."


Firing up a cigarette, Mick shook his head and sighed.


"If any of those three wind up taking me out, I should turn in my gun and badge, immediately right afterwards."


"So you're confident that you can pull this off?"


"Damn straight, I'm confident and the fact that you felt the need to ask that, well it's downright hurtful. Barney Green can barely hold himself upright, let alone wrestle. The fact that the XWF keeps permitting the man to fight is shameful to say the least. Each and every single time he gets in that ring, there's a ninety-nine percent chance that fight will be his last. He could up and die at Leap Of Faith, straight up fall flat on his face, show's over, that's it folks... Barney Green's ship has sailed. I tell you if that happens, I won't feel any guilt or remorse over the incident. The man did it to himself. The XWF might've given him the metaphorical gun and bullets but he's the one that pulled the trigger."


"Cold. I like it."


"Meanwhile, Drezdin is a pathetic sod, that's only permitted in the ring, when the higher ups need a good chuckle for themselves. He's a joke to them. A walking comedy act, ready and willing to please. The sad part is that he doesn't know that's what they're doing. He merely skips to the ring, like a happy little puppy and then proceeds to fall flat on his face. No matter how many times this happens, he doesn't learn his lesson. That he's simply not cut out for this line of work. He probably won't ever learn, not even after he's given it all he's got and drops dead. No, he'll come back in spirit form and haunt the halls of the XWF, rattling his chains, the specter demanding to be put into matches with large cash prizes attached."


"Damn. You've killed off two out of three of your opponents. What about StigMartyr? What are your thoughts on him?"


"Stigmartyr. The big bad scary man that lost his debut match. He couldn't get the job done then, he won't get it done now. That's the trouble, guy's think they're intimidating when they're laughable at best. They walk out and think because they make folks tremble at their local gym, whenever they show up to work out, they have what it takes to wrestle. Then they make the mistake of joining the XWF and wind up taking on someone like me. Now, I might not look like much but I am a scrapper in the ring and I don't go down easy. I will attack with all I've got, until my opponent is utterly destroyed. Suddenly, they're not so tough anymore but then again, that's what happens when one breaks down and cries on national television. And StigMartyr... he's going to cry, this I promise you."


"Okay. One more question and then my curiosity will be completely fulfilled."


"What's that then?"


"Why do you wrestle under the guise of being a vampire?"


"Um... that is an interesting question, one that I definitely have an answer for..."


Laughter accented Mick's words.


"Right after I hit the head."


With that, Mick diverted his direction and walked off. That was close. Too close. Bollocks! Now he would have to think up an excuse.

[Image: VgskqdY.jpg]
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Barney Green (07-18-2019), bRiaN sTorM (07-18-2019), Chris Page (07-19-2019), Corey Smith (07-18-2019)




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