+- X-treme Wrestling Federation (https://xwf99.com)
+-- Forum: (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=113)
+--- Forum: Archives (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=13)
+---- Forum: Turning Point PPV (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=73)
+---- Thread: His Own S*** Talk(Rp 3) (/showthread.php?tid=18075)
His Own S*** Talk(Rp 3) - Cain - 01-19-2015
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
He enjoys making you wait. He knows the sound of the grandfather clock ticking away behind him is a bit annoying. Cain sat in the center of a dark room, a bright spotlight cast on him as he sat in the lotus position. His hands, upon further inspection, are covered in blood. Even further inspection of his person revealed that he was holding a long bowie knife in his right hand, cleaning the nails on his left hand with the blade. The whole time he ignored the camera and absent mindedly went about his business.
Cain was not your average human male. He was not human, so no matter how many people he murdered he felt no compassion. Man, woman, or child were all fair prey for the Last Son of Eden. He was a new definition of monster. Cruel. Large. Powerful. A creature based in reality and in defiance of the very definition of "monster".
A beast was Cain.
Tick tock.
Tick tock.
Time was running out for his opponents. They would be forced to retire, while he would rise above them all. The Messiah of Pain came here to conquer, and if you looked at his recent record then you would say he was succeeding. Domination was his game and he was winning but to him, his opponents were mini bosses.
Suddenly, Cain viciously stabbed the blade into his own thigh. He didn't flinch. The sick fucker just smiled.
"Pain."
He hesitated, just to further your annoyance. He found this enjoyable. Tick tock.
"I used to know what the meaning of pain was, or I mean I know what it is, but does it bother me? No. I like it, Mitchell. I love the feeling of pain, the burning sensation trailing through my body every time something like "this" happens.
The Messiah of Pain grasped his hand in a strange fashion. He waited for a moment while he stared vacantly into the camera. His lips curled upwards and he jerked back on his own forearm. He didn't flinch. His bones protruded through the soft underside of his forearm, yet he continued.
"Pain is just a four letter word, Reuben. Remember that. Who am I kidding? You already know. Now, in your last offering to the XWF Universe..." He stopped in mid sentence. He thought for a second...two seconds. As he pulled the blade from his thigh, wound closing. He tapped his chin for a moment. "...ready for it? You absolutely sucked. You, among other participants in this match seem to be apt to coming up with clever slash unoriginal nicknames for people. You see Reuben, you're wasting your time when you pull that shit with me. You can call me whatever you want, hell, call me Isaac Fuckin' Yankem. Only I..." he didn't smile. "...I do not pull teeth. Or...at least I didn't. Then I saw you, you white haired mother fucker who kind of looks like Sub Zero and Sephiroth had a child who did drugs with Iggy Pop. Honestly? A mouthfull of gums would be more interesting to listen to than your meaningless banter toward me and everyone else. So yes. I will pull your god damned teeth out and wear them like a fucking necklace."
He stood up from the concrete floor and began pacing back and forth, the spotlight following him. "Polvo Blanco...let me fucking repeat that so I understand it, 'cause I don't fucking understand your fucking name. Let me tell you somethin' though, Polvo. I refuse to call you "Needles" or "Pinhead". Hell, I could call you Porcupine, but does that win me the match? Does insulting anyone win me the match? Perhaps my earlier derogatory statement toward Reuben was uncalled for then, but that motherfucker looks like a damned coke whore took a shit and forgot to flush...BUT..." Insane grin, spinning around to face the camera. He extends a finger as if to make a point. "...words. Don't. Win. Matches. Polvo, I like you. You're relatively quiet and that's good, because I like my bitches quiet."
Polvo Blanco Said:who decided not to mention me at all. Your weakness is that you are too lazy. You failed your team Wargames and then left due to the embarrassment and lack of understanding to exactly what happened. What happened? You are a failure. A FAILURE!"
"I thought you were more intelligent than to put my name in your mouth like that. I was just about to move onto that other loser, then that little tidbit just happened to leak back into my memory like the pus from your mother's nasty vagina. That's a thought. How the FUCK did your mother give birth to you with those spikes protruding from your head? Oh, I'm SURE it's a mask. You know what they say about men who hide behind a mask, right? They're hiding something deeper. Maybe...oh...I don't know, could it be that YOU are embarrassed about something? Fucking hypocrite. Who's the failure now? At least I WILL show my face. Ya fuckin' moron."
Cain mumbled as he pulled a cigarette from his coat pocket and lit it, puffing on it.
"I think I'm d-...wait, there's more, isn't there Polvo? You addressed me again!"
Polvo Blanco Said:You have bigger fish to fry than me? That is the most stupid thing I have ever heard. A good competitor never counts out the wrestlers they don't know. Well you... you must not be a good competitor. You try and incite fear by stating that you kill people and that you are something to be feared. Well, clearly you are not and I have all the reason to believe you are a liar, which there seems to be a lot of in this place.
"Hold up one goddamned minute, Polvo. You can question my methods. You can question my success rate. Hell, after that Morbid Angel incident, you can even question my sexuality. Straight, mind you. One thing you better never fucking question again is my competitive nature. Mother fucker, I love competition. I like men and women who actually stand a chance of beating me. Com. Pet. Tition. You, like Calypso, have enhancement talent tattooed all over you. So shut the fuck up and earn some stripes before you talk shit about a man who WINS more often than he loses. For the record, most of my losses? Main event matches. You ass."
Sebastian Duke. Morbid Angel. Eli James. But one win stood above those losses. This win was the one that actually put Aidan Collins on the reserve list. Was he injured? Or did he fear Cain? He wasn't around to tell anyone, now was he?
Cain took a deep breath and exhaled a cloud of smoke.
"You new kids piss me the fuck off with your Justin Bieber and your Pop Rocks. Sittin' there on your GameCube all day, gettin' on the computer and stealing other people's work on MySpace. Un-fucking-believable. Half of you don't say a goddamned thing, which is smart. The other half can't shut the hell up. Case in point would be Austin Fernando, whom will not get a cameo in this "video". You...Austin Fernando. The same one who damned near bored me to fuckin' sleep. Ya get on your webcam and what do ya fuckin' do?! You talk a fuckin' hour of shit! Or four hours. Words Austin...WORDS. You sir are like a woman with a dick. You think if you talk to us, me and the others, we might just go away. You pretend that you are God's gift to Sports Entertainment but when I watch you on TV, I have to fast forward through your wordy speeches just to get to the good part. The end. Words don't win matches, Austin. What wins matches is a two thousand year old demon whippin' your ass!"
In his anger, his accent was showing through. A sophiscated yet brash at the same time British accent. He stared at the camera, flicking his cigarette to the side, where an audible "Ouch" is heard. He shook his head.
"People are so fuckin' stupid. Humans. But at least there is ONE bright spot in this match. It's you, Scilly, so that's bad. Now when I said that you'd faced some tough sons o' bitches but you had it easy, I meant exactly what I said. Because as tough as those sons o' bitches were, they weren't me. See, there's a difference. I'm fuckin' Cain. I'm the originator of murder. I am a man with nothing left to lose and everything to gain. Now I'm not going to make fun of your nickname, because that's not the worst part about you. The worst thing is that you sit there and crack the same fuckin' jokes over and over. Do you THINK I haven't been called Kane before? Hence the Yankem reference as I addressed Reuben. Was Abraham a jab at my Jewish heritage? Morbid Angel did it already. Doesn't bother me. Now, the only thing that makes you a bright spot is the fact that I will take great amusement and pleasure in breaking you."
His demeanor had changed. No longer did the accent show through in his speech. Slowly, the camera zoomed in. Slowly... Closer...
Tick tock...
Tick tock...
"The only reason you four are of any relevance to me is because you have sinned. You have taken the Messiah of Pain's name in vain, and unlike Jesus Christ...I do not forgive. I punish. When I am punishing you, I will not relent. No matter what you say, or how loudly you say it...you all will be fucked up. Careers will be ended at Turning Point, boys, and at the end of the night I will stand over your ruined carcasses. The fires of Hell demand a sacrifice...and I will give it to them in spades."
His eyes flashed a firey red and...
-Static-