The Genesis of Goth

Chapter Two: El Campiona.

It was 2006, my first title opportunity, facing a woman that was considered to be unbeatable. But I have heard that one before. My first shot in the big leagues and I took home the gold…. That was 16 years ago, being

wet behind the ears when it comes down to either make it in the big leagues or just fail….

And now 16 years later, the championship caliber and the champion holding it is different, once more a woman that is capable of accomplishing many great things, being granted my first title shot in a company that is promoting the Extreme side of wrestling. Oh how foolish to think that being Extreme is an age department kind of thing when it comes down to wrestling… I am curious when the Latina Submission Machina will fair a different fait as Lady Ashe all those years ago….

August 2nd 2022

Its evening, Goth and Melissa his fiancé are snuggling together in their own bedroom in Manhattan, New York. Having his arms wrapped around her as her head is on top of his chest.  He has his fingers running through her hair, always enjoying how soft it feels as she kisses his chest before looking up at him.

“I love you.”

The soft words echo inside his head as he smiles towards her, looking into her beautiful green eyes as she is staring into his soul. The two have been together for five years now, she had experienced his life when she came into it as the babysitter of his son as his life was in ruins. Lost his wife due to cancer, he started drinking in an attempt to drink away his pain and misery. It was the least proud moment in his life, because he was ashamed for not being there for his son.

“I love you too Melissa.”

His words echo inside his brain, inwardly he thinks back to the first time he had told her this. Afraid that he would sound desperate, or even worse that it sounded generic. He had to learn all over again to love someone, to trust someone all over again. Something he had endured with his past wife, because he had grown up to rely upon nobody else but himself. Something he had learned in his youth, that there was nobody in his life that he could rely upon but himself. He knew that he blamed everyone for the misery that he was in, but he knows now that his drug abuse in his teens was the sole reason of him being thrown out of his parental house, his friends leaving him and his constant confrontations with the law.

He closes his eyes as he feels Melissa’s lips press into his neck, whispering soft words to his ears that always gave him goosebumps. He grinds his teeth before he causes her to squeal in delight when rolls her over on her back and kiss each other as this last for several moments.

Later that night

Melissa is sleeping soundly as Goth stands in the door opening of their balcony, staring at the final burning lights of Manhattan, New York. He has been living here for over ten years and even though he loved his home, he would never move out of here. He puts a glass of orange juice to his lips and sips from it, remembering how often he had drank either Whiskey or anything similar. Causing him to wonder why, he never loved the taste of it… it wasmerely the buzz that he would get after a show in an attempt to numb out from the pain. Ultimately having it turn into an addiction that he could barely overcome due to intervention from the woman he loves.

He lowers his head, trying to shake off the thoughts. He had realized that these memories have grown stronger throughout the last few months, it actually got him scared for falling back into old habits that would drag him back into the aggressive nature that had caused him to get into trouble more times than he dared to remember.

“No.., this cannot happen to me.”

He tells himself, grinding his teeth. Staring at the glass filled with orange juice, the new favorite drink of his for the last several years or so. He realized that he was drinking it out of a Whiskey glass, was it coincidence??? Or had he done this more often?? Thoughts that travel through his brain that causes him to become insecure about him living a clean life. A few months ago he had celebrated his five years of being sober, if you had told him that he would be celebrating his anniversary like this ten years ago, then he would have laughed you straight in your face while buying you a drink. But that was then, he has changed as a human being and as a competitor. Taking much more care of his body, not taking any medication that could be addictive as well as not allowing him to meddle himself with he wrong people.

“How foolish must I have been all thee years??”

He asks himself, resting his head into the doorway. He lets out a sigh, closing his eyes as he thinks back to all the supposedly “friends” that had a bad influence on him. Some of them didn’t even realized what they were doing, because they were in the same situation as him. But others were only there for the parties and when he had the money to pay for all the fun and pleasures that life had to offer…. But these people were nowhere to be found when Goth had woken up in jail for whatever reason.. nobody?? Well nobody except one, his dear departed wife always bailed him out as the lovely angel that she was.

He quickly puts the glass to his lips and empties it in one swift motion, swallowing the entire orange juice before wiping his mouth with he back of his hand. His eyes gaze back to the city he and his wife had fallen in love with, he had always compared it to Utrecht where he was born but bigger. New York had the Statue of Liberty, Utrecht had the Dom Tower as its touristic attraction. He closes his eyes as he feels the wind blow through his long black hair, something he had been amazed that it was able to grow like it has been throughout the years. He was glad that the next Warfare was in New York, giving him and Melissa the possibility to visit home and enjoy a normal life as they have grown to become masters of hiding their identity when they went outside to live life as normal “New Yorkers”.

“But on the August 31st New York will know exactly who the fuck I am…”

He grins, staring at the glass and sighs, realizing that he had drank it completely empty. He turns around, debating whether he should refill it with the chance of waking up Melissa or not. He groans inwardly, but ultimately decides to stay as he turns his gaze back to the beautiful nightlife of Manhattan.

“Can I join??”

He hears Melissa ask, causing him to turn around and stares at the beautiful eyes from his fiancé, who wraps her arms around him as the two stare at the view silently.

“Did I accidently wake you??”

He asks with a voice of concern that causes her to look up at him with that loving smile he had fallen in love with so many times over and over again.

“I started to feel a cold breeze creeping up on me, but I managed to swat away.”

Goth and Melissa chuckle at her remark, hewraps his arms around the sweater that she had put around her upper body and holds her close to him. Feeling her body tense against him, the soft fabric of her nightie underneath her vest touches his skin. He places his hands on her backside as that causes her to squeal as she feels him softly squeezing.

“You sir are a bad man”

The two kiss before they remain silent for ten minutes. Goth is about to head back to their bed when Melissa stops him before staring him in the eyes.

“Are you okay Gerrit?”

He sighs, he had hoped she wouldn’t notice. But he knew that is nearly impossible. The thought crosses his mind for a second to tell a lie, but that thought vanishes as soon as it hit his mind. Knowing that he is a terrible liar.

“I’ve noticed lately that the thoughts of drinking have popped into my brain more often than not.”

He lowers his face, trying to bury his face in her shoulders. The shame comes over him, he had been so strong for so long and now it seems as if it was for nothing.

“It’s okay Gerrit, it’s a good thing that you aren’t ashamed to tell me. I will call for help tomorrow.”

He feels her fingers twirl through his hair, whispering soothing words into his right ear. He feels relief for admitting towards Melissa. He had been told early on during his rehab that everyone will have these moments, he just never thought it would have happen to him as everything seemed to go so easily. But he knows now that it’s not always what it seems.

“Thank you Melissa….,”

The remain standing in their embrace as the shot slowly fades

The next day

Goth is in the gym, punching and kicking against the punching bag that is being held by his personal trainer. The sweat is pouring from his face, trying to clear his mind from what had happened last night. Frustrated about having to meet up with his personal counselor about his moments of weakness, something he hated to go through the feeling to be weak. Goth hits a few high knees against the punching bag before executing a spinning back elbow. He then holds on to the bag, making sure that it would remain still for him before sending a flurry of punches into the center of the punching bag. This goes on for another ten seconds before walking away with a frustrated look on his face.

“Damnit!!”

He yells to himself, clearly his intention to work a sweat to clear up his mind has not been working for him. Using his mouth to undo the tape of his boxing gloves as he throws them in a corner of the gym as he grabs a bottle of water and starts to drink from it. A few seconds later he lowers the bottle and stares at the trainer, giving him an apologetic look on his face. Only for the trainer to wave it off, knowing the man after training with him after all these years has created a bond of understanding and trust something that Goth values.

“WHY CAN’T I JUST FOCUS!!!!”

Goth throws his bottle in the corner, not even noticing how the water splashes against the wall as he has already turned around and walks towards the changing rooms as he is heading for the shower. Hoping that the warm spray of the water would soothes him. He quickly takes off his clothes before stepping inside the shower, leaning his head backwards as he allows the water to soothe him. His frustration is still building inside of him, but the water allows him to groan. He places his hands upon the shower wall, letting his head drop forwards as his hair falls in front of his head.

“Please let it stop…..”

Goth’s hair completely develops his face as the hot water attacks his body, his knuckles slowly turn white as he has closed his hands to fists. Pushing them deep into the tiles of the shower wall, constantly cursing to himself for no reason.

“I will find the answer and when I do, you won’t like me very much….”

He utters before letting out sickening laughter through the shower before the shot fades.

Present Day

“You know who I am, but you still don’t know why the fuck I am here….”

We see Goth seated in a rocket chair, caressing a white cat that sits on his lap as it purrs underneath his touch. He is wearing a classic Levi’s jeans and a black sleeveless shirt as some loafers complete the entire ensemble. He is smiling at the camera as it is coming closer towards him before stopping as he motions it to do so with his left hand.

“But I guess we all can tell that I am here to compete, allowing the world to drool over the mere fact of whatever fantasy dream match that your single minded brain can come up with. The question I need to ask to you all unemployed bookers out there, is The Latina submission Machina on that list?? I cannot imagine that there’s a possibility for you all to put her on number one. But then again, even the great ones can make a mistake can’t they??”

He laughs sinister as he sinks his fingers tenderly in the back of the cat’s neck, causing it to dig its nails into the cloth of his Levi’s causing him to gasp.

“Oh my, Mr. Bigglesworth is upset. I guess that if you want an honest opinion then you need to ask your pet.”

He chuckles while he continues to stroke his cat. The animal closes its eyes as it raises its head in anticipation for his master to continue what he is doing. Goth’s smile increases as he turns his focus towards the camera without stopping what he is doing.

“I was never much of an animal lover, especially through the days of constantly travelling and barely being home. But Mr. Bigglesworth is a very independent hunter aren’t you??”

He chuckles as the cat’s purring slowly start to increase by the mere of his touch.

“Always hunting for the biggest price that he can find, never satisfied with something minor. Because for you only the best will do doesn’t it??”

Goth slowly raises his cat up high in front of his face, admiring the animal as it stares at him through the near closed slits of its eyes. Goth holds it there for a few moments before finally bending forwards and gently placing the animal on the ground as it starts to walk away.

“I sometimes am jealous of that cat, never having to travel to distant places, never having to worry about whether your flight is delayed or whether the bed that you sleep in suits your needs and I could go on for hours. But I will not burden you with petty complaints, because just like him… I only care for the big time prey that would feed my belly just nicely.”

“I remember the first time I tasted the success of winning championship gold, quite amusing how that situation is so similar to where I am currently. Granted, it took me a few months back then to get as hot. While apparently this company knows how to please it’s distinguished guests with anything that their hearts desire, making me wonder how pitiful they must think about the remainder of their supposedly impressive roster. Because I am sure that it has got nothing to do with you is it Oh Latina Submission Machina??”

Goth crosses a leg across the other while placing his hands across the knee as he stares into the camera with delightful intent.

“I am always curious about a champion when being paired for the first time, the likes and dislikes. What your strengths are as well as weaknesses, merely to hunt for it to satisfy my needs is so refreshing. Finding out whether you are adequate enough to even administer a wrestling hold or two, but with a name like Latina Submission Machina doesn’t take long to assume that you do… don’t you?? Although, I have often come to the conclusion that a name is merely a written reflection of the reality that is often a disappointment. Because a name like yours will garner expectations that I wonder whether you are capable of fulfilling them mi senorita. Because I would hate it if you truly would disappoint a man that has perfected his craft through the many years of competing inside that squared circle…. That I would only expect someone near of my ability…. Even though that is oh so difficult to find these days. But who am I to judge?? You are the Extreme champion, not much of a championship that would encourage you to turn a blind eye to the fine art of submission wrestling isn’t it not??”

“Now I know I am only being speculative, I have not been in the ring with you or have you seen wrestle. And I don’t care, because I want this moment to be special. I want this moment to mean something, to myself and in a lesser extend to you as well. Because lets be honest my pretty, the days of the face paint actually hold any bearing upon the world has long vanished into the dark days of being idealistic. But I will grant you the opportunity to make your case of whatever value it has upon you…. Besides of making you look incomprehensively foolish….Don’t look upset my senorita, just take the word of a 20 year veteran that once painted his face as a deadbeat skull just for the fun of it.”
He closes his eyes, trying to listen to his breathing while placing his hands in front of him. His fingers tips touching each other as if he is in a deep meditative thought. The camera slowly pans out, revealing the wall of his living room, filled with replica championship belts that he has collected throughout the years. We see a spot hanging on the wall on the far right, completely sealed off with glass protection to leave out any oxygen and dust. Only supporting soft red pillows inside, but missing a championship belt. The gold plate underneath reads XWF Extreme championship, starting date (8/31/2022). The shot slowly returns towards Goth as the man has remained seated in the same position, only difference is that he has once again reopened his eyes as he is staring intently into the camera.

“I see you have noticed that I have already claimed another spot for a new championship. And forgive me Latina Submission Machina…, I do not intend to sound arrogant or disrespect you. It’s quite the opposite, I intend to celebrate the memory of your reign, showcasing the importance of your reign to others of how it could have been. Merely by opening their eyes by showcasing of how MY reign will be.”

“Now I can hear you think, you have held so many titles. You have had a long and imposing career. Why would you lower yourself for another championship? And that’s exactly why you are so destined to be dethroned, because you lack substance. You lack anything in the world that a championship needs. Because you are in a twilight of your career, where you wish to either be extreme and hide the fact that you cannot wrestle a submissive style match…. Or the mere fact that you are a submission masterpiece… waiting to be shattered because inside the extreme nature of a predator is no place for the one that can wrestle one style… So far you have been successful to understand where your opponents were lacking direction and any sort of destiny of how to beat you.”

“Sadly for you, the days of riding your own coattail of being the so called Latina Submission Machina is long over amiga.”

Then

August 5th 2022

Its dark in Goth’s and Melissa’s bedroom, Goth had been to an AA meeting, bearing his soul for the others to watch and listen. It had taken a lot out of him, the memories of his past that he has been trying to push away so dearly had risen back into his mind. All the anguish, all the misery and pain came back stronger than he had remembered them to be originally. It had caused him to fear his mental state to crumble right before his eyes. He had been given sleeping pills, because he had confined the counselor that he had been having problems sleeping. Afraid of nightmares of the past.

“N….no, please don’t….”



His fingers grip the pillow tightly while muttering words, his eyes are constantly tensing and relaxing in rapid pace. The muscles in his arms are under constant strain as he is nearly about to rip the pillows to shreds.

“Please, don’t leave me.”

Tears are flowing from his eyes as Goth is experiencing a memory, a memory of his wife slowly dying before his watchful eyes while looking on helplessly. Goth turns around on his back, his chest is heaving rapidly as his breathing is out of control. His hands are ripping at the bedsheets this time, causing his arms to tense up again before suddenly sitting upwards. His eyes are gazing through the dark bedroom, trying to find any recollection of where he is at right now. He finally drops his head back on the pillow after realizing that he is still in his bedroom, looking past his shoulder as the spot of Melissa is empty. He turns his head the other way, staring at the alarm clock as it reads 2:00AM as this causes him tocurse intently.

“I have been sleeping ten hours now….. but where’s…..”

The door to his bedroom suddenly opens, causing Goth to stop midsentence, causing him to stare at the figure that emerges in the light of the hallway. He sighs as he recognizes the beautiful features of Melissa, staring at the concerned look on her face as she stare back at him, he even notices a small tear emerging from her left eye.

“Are you alright sweetie?”

She asks after a few more moments of silence between them, he extends his arm towards her as she quickly moves towards him as the two hold each other in a tender embrace. He feels her heart beating fast through the soft fabric of her nightie, he could tell that she had not been sleeping well in the room next to his. He slowly lifts her head towards his, gently rubbing the tear away with his fingers before smiling.

“I would love it if you would rest next to me.”

He says with a smile that warms her heart, he gently kisses her cheeks before letting go off her as she rests next to him in their bed. He wraps his arms around her before both of them close their eyes and fall into a deep sleep until…..

“GERRIT!! WHO IS THIS WOMAN??!!!”

Goth sits right up inside his bed, puzzled of where the voice had come from. A voice that for some reason had come very familiar, especially because she knew his real name. He looks over his shoulder towards Melissa, who for some reason is still sleeping and had not heard the female voice.

“GERRIT!!!”

His head snaps away from Melissa and is now directed towards their bedroom door as where the sound had come from that direction. Witnessing a silhouette of a female figure. Around 5’5, long blond hair. But he notices something different as his eyes are slowly getting better adjusted to the darkness and the slim pieces of light from outside the bedroom. It nearly seems that there’s only bones and some muscles visible where a skin should be. There’s bright burning lights where eyes should be, this causes Goth to react in anguish.

“I am home sweetheart, why don’t you give your wife a kiss???”

A harsh laughter can be heard, laughter that quickly fades into the dark void of his bedroom. The words roam through his head in utter shock, realizing what he is witnessing as it something that cannot be.

“You can’t be real…, you can’t be…”

“Not real?? Oh of course I am real…, don’t be such a fool.”

Goth’s anger is building up inside of him, he cannot believe his eyes what is going on

“This got to be a….”

“Dream? Oh please, don’t be so foolish Gerrit, being engaged to HER is nothing more than an escape from YOUR destiny.”

There’s a loud laughter echoing through the bedroom, causing Goth to wonder why Melissa is still sleeping. He thought of extending a hand towards her, trying to wake her. But his arms are incapable of moving. This causes sweat to pour from his forehead, realizing that he is somehow glued shut to the bed while the figure is tenderly closing in on him. He wants to scream, but his mouth is now completely sown shut. The fear is now visible on his face as his eyes are starting to get blood red while the corpse of his dead wife is slowly nearing. He can see that more and more fabric’s that she was wearing is vanishing from her. Leaving nothing more than a rotten corpse in front of him as maggots are visibly twirling around her rigid joints.

“Don’t be frightened by my appearance my dear, you always said you would love me no matter what…..”

The disgust lingers inside of him, remembering the words that he had told her on her death bed, where he had told her constantly that she would make it even if he had known better. He feels his stomach tighten up, sensing that he has to vomit but remembers how his mouth has been sown shut. A loud murmuring sound emerges from the thin wires that keeps his lips together. Trying to use all of his muscles around his mouth to rip it open, but the further he tries the harder it keeps them locked together.

“Don’t resist love my angel….”

The creature is now mere inches in front of him, crawling towards him as he smells the foul taste of alcohol. This causes his brain to go in overload. Finally managing to pull his arms free, pulling on his mouth as in trying to rip apart the wires from his mouth when suddeny…

“GERRIT!!!!”

Goth wakes up in a puddle of his own sweat, staring into the face of Melissa as he realizes that he was dreaming. His arms still holding on tightly around her as she had turned and show concern on her face.

“WHAT HAPPENED??!!!”

There’s so much emotion racing through his brain, relief, pain, sadness and anger. He had felt betrayed, yet he also feels doubt. Doubt of whether he had done enough for his deceased wife, whether he could have done so much more. Concern of whether he had shon that he loved her more than Melissa, or vice versa. His brain is in overload and he cannot comprehend.

“It was Chantal….,”

He finally manages to croak out from his mouth, he tastes blood from his lips. Wondering whether his lips were truly sown or if he had bitten so hard that he had bit through the soft skin. Melissa embraces him, holding him tightly against her body as she understood. Telling him that everything will be okay and that she loved him. Words that entered his mind, but it sounded as if they were in an air bubble as hollow they sounded. He returns her embrace by running his fingers through her hair while swallowing deeply, inhaling all the oxygen into his body before letting out and starting to tear up. Every emotion started to be unleashed, not just from tonight but also from the period of time that had been building inside of him.

“I love you Melissa”

He whispers into her ear, letting his hands roam over her body. The softness of her skin and the silk fabric of her nightie soothed him as well as it had many other reactions upon his body as ultimately they started to kiss before the camera turns to darkness to give them some intimate privacy

“Did you think it would end this way Latina?? You don’t mind me calling you that way don’t you?? It’s such a drag to constantly remember myself the entirety of your name. Especially as I consider that with what I have said before, that we have crossed a barrier of anonymity?? It already has come to the point that I have publicly acknowledged that you got something that I desire, although desire is such a relative term of what someone actually could lust for…. Oh yes, lust is the end scenario of every desire isn’t it?? To publicly acknowledge the fact that we all have our needs, some want love, others need physical attraction to the opposite or same sex. And others like myself, it is nothing more than to obtain more and more physical representations of how great I truly am….. And you are merely in my way.”

“Now I know that it’s only the beginning of our confrontation, it’s always opened up with the acknowledgement of each other’s existence. The soft feeling out concepts of ultimately trying to understand where our boundaries are being found… And ultimately asking yourself whether it was a perfect fit or not….I could tell the world that you are a perfect fit for me to debut on the Wednesday show, but that would be against everything that I stand for Latina…But that’s beyond your understanding isn’t it?? How can you possibly understand the ongoings of everything that burns inside my brain and soul!!!!”

Goth pauses, putting his hands in front of his mouth and feigns a look of concern. Shaking his head before letting his hands show an apologetic gesture towards the camera.r

“Forgive me, I had misjudged you. You are the Extreme champion for a reason is it not Latina?? More power to you and your mental confidence that is currently screaming at me and soothing your mindset. Telling you that I am a pig, that I do not even deserve to be in the same ring as you. But tell me Latina, how confident are you to see through all that I am opening up as a smoke screen from the true reality???”

“The reality that had started 16 years ago with my first championship belt, the first title that had cemented my legacy upon the major leagues!! And I know!! I know it’s a terminology that is always used across the globe. Because the fireplace that burns at home is always warmer than the one of the next door neighbors isn’t it?? I may be unstable at times, but I revel in the knowledge that you don’t understand what will be emerging in front of you on the 31st. Although I know that I speak perhaps in riddles, or in miscommunications. But why spill allt he good milk at once? Why not wait until the true intentions of a predator has become a reality? You see Latina, I have already told you the first intention is the global one. To take away the gold belt that others have failed to accomplish. For whatever reason, I do not know why…. But that’s all the wonderful delights of being locked inside the mental shark cage that allows two or more to enter, but only one can leave… I just hope that all will ultimately become clear… But I will promise that I will cherish the moments that we will share, until the moment come that I need to pick what I desire most… YOU or that championship belt…. All it will take is for you to open up….. my precious Latina…. But all will eventually be revealed…. Until I take home the gold….”

With that the shot fades as the camera turns to darkness