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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » March Madness 2021 PPV Board
#2: Reflection
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ALIAS Offline
Space Jesus



XWF FanBase:
The IWC

(gets varying reactions in the arenas, but will be worshiped like a god and defended until the end by internet fans; literally has thousands of online dorks logging on to complain anytime they lose a match or don't get pushed right)


#1
03-26-2021, 03:42 PM

2A: John 17:17


Sanctify them by your truth. Your word is truth.








2B: The False Idol

The scene fades in from Blood Red!

“Dear God, you’re really gonna commit to the bit, aren’t you Morby? Fine, let’s play it your way.

Hail Satan!

Wait… that was wrong. I’m Satan, right? I’m the fucking devil.

Apparently.

Hail Me!

I’m a destroyer.

Apparently.

I’m a killer.

Apparently.

I’m going to hell.

...Sure.

Newsflash, asshole, I’m already here. You want to talk about physically feeling the pain? Well how’s this for some fucking stigmata?”


A glove is ripped from its hand displaying the burned, scarred remains of the war for his soul.

“Talk about your Hand of God, amirite?

Where were you, oh great and just saviour? Where were you when the dark came for me? Where were you when I made my sacrifice? Were you tending your flock? Or lining your pockets?

I fucking see you, charlatan.

See, you’re out here calling me evil based on… what? The word of God? Or a story of your own fabrication? Do you even know my story, Morby? We’re all aware of yours. After all, your reputation precedes you. But just how much have you been paying attention to anyone else’s? How well prepared are you for little war against ‘evil’? I mean, just last week you seemed to think Bobby and TK were the tag team champions before Corey and the two sociopaths, but that’s just dead fucking wrong. Until you and Mastermind came along, those two had to resort to bringing in bozos off the street just so they could actually get a win as a team. Jesus, you’re in the same category as Salt ‘n’ Pepper! So much for reputation…

Oh, sorry, did I take the Lord’s name in vain? Is that going to make you shove a crucifix down my throat, or up my ass, or in my pee hole? That’s the kind of shit the ‘old’ Morbid Angel would have done, right? Not this ‘new’ Morby.







Oh, you actually do shove a crucifix in someone’s mouth on the reg? Wow. Isn’t that desecration or something? Gosh, imagine if someone who did that also started cursing, taking his Lord’s name in vain, and promising bodily harm to others?

Oh…

Awkward...

Thank fucking God someone like me has already come along and called you out for being... how do I say this?... a load of shit. Man, bring back the cock-stealer, I say.

Don’t get it twisted, I’m not saying you’re out to pasture now, Morby - I promised I wouldn’t go that direction - but I guess I just have a little more respect for somebody who has the stones to be their true selves rather than... whatever it is you’re doing now. You want to commit to this sham though? Fuck it. Let’s do it. While we’re at it, let’s go all the way in.

Let me tell you a story, ‘father’, about my own personal history with the kind of cross-eyed bible basher that you’re claiming to be. Those kinds of cunts ran a place that I stayed at once upon a time. Poor, helpless saps like me were stashed away there so that we would be… ‘safe’. Their words. Overall, it was largely a drab, sterile affair in all areas except the common room. That room, the only place in the building that offered any sort of recreation, was decorated with ‘glorious’ stained glass pictures and even worstly stained tiles. More notable still, was a life-size crucifix in all its glory detail. It watched over us. It kept us… ‘safe’.

Now, at the time, those ‘fine’ Christians managed to convince me that I truly was safe there. Better still, they convinced me that I belonged there. They convinced me that the only way that I could be… saved… was through them; that they could help me. They convinced me about all of this… through Love. Of course, in this story, ‘Love’ refers to haloperidol regularly administered to me for the slightest perceived infraction such as: asking if my friend was okay; celebrating too loudly after winning Uno; or for falling asleep whenever Mastermind came on the TV.

To top it off, please keep in mind that I didn’t ask to stay in this place. I was forced there, against my will. But these so-called ‘people of God’ didn’t one single fuck about that. They took me from my life; and in the process, they took my life from me. And after they showed me ‘Love’... they would charge my body full of electricity; they would slide a blade over my skin; they would… they would… they would…”


Pause.

Breathe.

“You get the picture, right?

All this… in the name of the God that you’re out here singing the praises of.

Hail God!

Get fucked.

Again, Morby, ask yourself this… you sure you want to commit to this? People have been trying to execute judgement on me all my life. They keep failing; I keep surviving. And I need no God nor devil to achieve this, man. I don’t need their ‘love’, one way or the other. I just need to be. I just need to do.

I just am.

Before you say it, save your idolatry accusations. I’m not putting myself in any sort of pantheon here. I just feel a power in my own mortality that, in my experience, people who need to appeal to the supernatural can’t ever grasp. So… once more with feeling… are you committing to this?







Well alrighty then.

Consider me coming down from my place of authority. Consider me crawling on my belly. Consider your foot on my head. Now what? Are you going to crush my skull?

Fucking try. I dare you.

You’re not sinking me into the pit of despair, Morby. I’m already there. But if you want to add the X-Treme Championship to the treasure trove you’ve conned your constituents into giving you - profits for prophets, yeah? - you’re going to have to come and swim in the void to get it. Everybody who has tried has failed. I survive. It’s what I was born to do. And you wouldn’t be the first Elmer Gantry I’ve had to deal with.

You’ve got a choice to make here, my man. How personal do you want to get? I’m this close to wanting to Eat Morbid Angel, but you get to decide how this plays out. Well… you and your new ‘friend’ Mastermind. You should know though, literally everyone I’ve fought has made it personal when I put them on their fucking back. Some even made their choice beforehand. But regardless of whether it’s The Left Hand; Reggie Estrada and his fuck-buddies; or you, the over-sized doofus who will be at ringside, and the entirety of ‘god’s army’, I’ll still be here. I have no other choice. I’ll still be standing.





Immovable.











Inevitable.















Incorruptible.”






2C: Revelation 2:2


I know your works, your toil and your patient endurance, and how you cannot bear with those who are evil, but have tested those who call themselves apostles and are not, and found them to be false.








2D: Mirror, Mirror

The three of us trek through the vast Venician mansion, Shawn Wylde leading the way with he and I walking in lock-step a few yards behind. Two sets of footsteps ring off marble and granite - Shawn’s nimble feet setting a rhythmic patter that provides a snare backdrop to my more calculated toms.

Life’s art.

One set of footsteps - the bass - never kicks in. Each heaving hoof of The Salmon-Coloured Minotaur leaves a vacant, silent hole in the beat. An instrumental, incomplete.

“It’s just up here,” Shawn declares, turning his head sideways so that we… I… can hear more clearly. As the sun peeks through a glazed window and catches a shimmer of blue in his eyes, I ponder upon his face. I’ve never met a man with a mask, who seems to care so little about others seeing what lies underneath. For a moment, I imagine what The Baphomet would think. What would he - having accused me of wearing a mask - think of one whose mask was transparently for show? Alas, the less said about that cunt, the better.

As I muse upon Shawn’s exposed brown curls and what he has publicly experienced to date, I’m obliged to wonder, is this carelessness on Shawn’s part?

No. Not careless. Carefree.

His philosophy on life brings a much needed optimism in the face of the dark.

Fuck The Baphomet.

The Salmon-Coloured Minotaur agrees.

Shawn leads us down a flight of stairs into the basement of the manse. I hear the echoes sing louder as the walls and ceiling close in around the staircase while it funnels downwards. As we emerge at the bottom, we’re faced with a sparsely-furnished makeshift-gym. Shawn ignores any of the equipment and swiftly sweeps across the pebble mosaic floor towards a far wall. We struggle to keep up. By the time we arrive, Shawn is pushing against an otherwise inconspicuous stone in the wall. Upon Shawn’s touch it slides back into the wall cavity and with a clunk and a grind the entire wall shifts and begins to turn. Shawn motions for me to hurry and I dash in towards him. The Salmon-Coloured Minotaur doesn’t make it in time. With a hint of despair in my eyes as I look back at him, I huddle in close to the Whyte Spyder, ensuring we both safely make it through as we’re rotated on a similarly moving floor piece.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Shawn says with a grin, as I step wide-eyed into a secret room on the other side. Four walls surround us, adorned with ancient tapestries and art. Knowingly, Shawn briskly cuts across the room and sets alight a lantern that casts flickering shadows across the room. The dancing light licks the face of The Salmon-Coloured Minotaur, standing In the middle of the room he never entered. He moves aside, melting into the side of the room, as Shawn and I take steps into its centre.

“Whoa…” I hush into the stale, musky air. Excitedly, Shawn runs his finger along dust-covered lids of heavy, ornate chests, painting patterns in their grime. I carefully follow, reluctant to touch anything. I don’t need direct contact to feel the stories emanating from the trinkets, tomes, and treasures. Even The Salmon-Coloured Minotaur seems hesitant, lurking further behind us as Shawn leads the way down a hallway lined with elaborately framed mirrors. The reflections catch Shawn’s attention, slowing his walk in his distraction. I do my best to ignore the maimed reprobate that respectively calls to me from beyond the glass. It works, for the most part. My mulish will prompts Shawn to continue on.

“This is it,” he tells me as he stops in front of a covered object. Before I respond, he yanks the cover down and I quickly divert my eyes to the ground, avoiding what appears to be yet another mirror. From the corner of my eye, however, I see something different about this one. Cautiously, I raise my eyes, and stare into the black.

“It’s…” I stammer.

“It’s pretty cool, right?” Shawn grins. “Tommy said it was obsidian or something.”

In awe, I step in closer. The obsidian mirror extends far behind its surface, teasing a world beyond. As I raise my hand to touch its surface, I see my reflection mirror me back. I smile, crooked and forced. My reflection beams back at me… happy, warm, safe. In the dark I look… beautiful.

“Careful,” Shawn warns. “That mirror can do some weird things.”


“What do you mean?” I ask, retreating my hand from the danger.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he dismisses. Shawn turns his back and starts flicking through scrolls on a nearby table. I consider prying further as I step back and study the mirror in its entirety. There’s an inscription atop the mirror: ‘Arcanum Est Aranearum’.

“The Secret Webs…” I read aloud.

“What?” Shawn spins to face me. “What did you just say?”

“That’s what it says.” I point to the words carved above the obsidian. “Or something like that, anyway”

“You know Italian?” Shawn asks further.

“I think it’s Latin,” I reply.

“You know Latin?” he follows-up, eyebrows furrowed. “How?”

“It’s just one of those things,” I shrug. Baffled, Shawn stares at me for a while. I register it but move on, glancing around the rest of the room again. The Salmon-Coloured Minotaur shuffles in place, keeping a watchful eye on both Shawn and I.

“How did you even know about this?” Shawn pipes up again, drawing my attention back to him. “Tommy told me it was okay to bring you down here, but how did you even know about it?”

“I was told about it,” I reply, as honestly as possible while being ever aware of The Salmon-Coloured Minotaur looming in the background. I see an opening to pry further knowledge from him. “There’s something about this world that’s not quite right. If I told you half of the shit that I’ve seen recently, you would have me… committed.”

“I know what you mean,” he starts, my hilarious joke flying right over his head. “Let me show you something."

Shawn reaches up to the mirror and pulls something off it. He shows it to me - a large metal wrist cuff embellished with a steampunk-like spider.

“Was that there all along?” I ask in surprise. He nods.

How did I not see that?

“You want to talk about some crazy shit?” Shawn says. “Put that on.”

“Like... on my wrist?” I ask, buying myself some processing time.

“Uh… yeah, man.” With a slight scoff, he pushes the cuff forward again and into my hands. I take hold of it, and turn it around in my hands.

“The detail is tremendous,” I remark.

“Put it on!” he urges. I briefly glance up at him before settling my focus back on the intricate spider ornament covering what appears to be gears in the cuff, reminiscent of a skeleton watch. Gently, I slide it over my wrist. It fits with ease. With the cuff secured over the top of my cardigan, I look up at Shawn for the next step. “Twist the spider down, then push the buttons on the side.”

I do as he says. The spider clicks into place as I rotate it downwards, covering the gears. Shawn wills me on as I press down the two buttons on the side at the same time. The spider flips up once again, and the gears start to move.

“How awesome is that?” Shawn asks as the gears pick up speed, growing faster and faster. “That’s not even the craziest part. Look in the mirror.”

Again, I do as he says. I see… myself.

Wait… is this it? Surely there’s something more.

I lean in, gazing into my own eyes. In the dark, the blue irises staring back at me are the most vibrant things that I’ve ever seen, simultaneously terrifying and bewitching.

But this isn’t new. This was what the mirror offered before the gears started turning.

The mirror is the same.

“What do you hear?” Shawn asks, expectantly.

“Nothing,” I sigh. This might be a dead end.

“What do you mean?” he asks, in shock. “Can’t you hear anything? See anything? Is the mirror changing?”

“I wish,” I admit, sliding the cuff off my wrist and tossing it to Shawn who scrambles to catch it.

“I don’t understand,” Shawn says. “I managed to go inside the mirror with that thing on. I’m pretty sure I saw the past.”

“I don’t know what to say. As far as I know, that’s exactly what I’m here for.” Suddenly, a force pushes past me. The Salmon-Coloured Minotaur marches forward towards the obsidian mirror. His confidence returned, he silently surveys it. Shawn continues to bemoan the inconsistency. The Salmon-Coloured Minotaur turns back and looks me dead in the eye.

Then he enters the mirror.

I leap forward in shock. Shawn doesn’t seem to notice my widened eyes. As The Salmon-Coloured Minotaur steps into the beyond, something in the mirror retreats. He stands, as clear as if he were in front of me, yet somehow visibly out of reach. The mirror swirls around him.

“Is this better, sire?” The Salmon-Coloured Minotaur asks, it’s mouth unnaturally moving in perfect articulation. I nod a response instead of speaking, taking advantage of Shawn’s distraction to try and not seem… crazy. “That is wonderful news!”

As the reflective surface liquifies before my eyes, my own likeness similarly bleeds away. The Salmon-Coloured Minotaur remains. His eyes shoot from side to side. In my mind I ask him, ‘what now?’

“Be patient, friend,” he replies, hearing my thoughts. It stuns me. I struggle to understand what’s happening. He hears that too. “This will work. I beseech you, have faith.”

In truth, I have no choice. He has led me this far; to and through the unknown. I wouldn’t know my way out without him.

As I wait, conversing with my confederate, Shawn Wylde finally notices how engrossed I have become in the dark. He jerks forward and quickly double-takes that he still has the cuff in his hands.

“Wait… are you seeing something?” he asks.

“Yes…” I answer simply. His whole body expresses his excitement.

“What are you seeing?” he keeps going.

I pause.

The Salmon-Coloured Minotaur smiles a human smile as he dissolves away.

“I see…”

The mirror settles on a new image.

An answer.

A face.

“I see the man who condemned me.”





2E: Matthew 10:28


And do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather fear him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.

Do you have a light?

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