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+--- Thread: The Camouflage of our past Part 2 (/showthread.php?tid=43062)
The Camouflage of our past Part 2 - Marf - 03-01-2022
| December 21st, 2021 Alki Beach, West Seattle |
The slow, crashing waves quietly bring Marf back to reality. His eyes open up and quickly wince at the bright day. Marf pulls himself up, half of his face covered in sand. He rolls over and sits up, looking out at the water while wiping the sand from his face. As Marf looks down at himself he notices that his hoody and pants are stained in dried blood. His attention is broken by approaching footsteps. Marf turns and looks to his left to see Damien walking up to him with a shit eating grin on his face. He’s wearing Hawaiian shorts and a towel draped over his shoulders.
We should really stop meeting like this…
Marf frowns at his ghostly friend before looking away and slowly pulling himself up to his feet. Damien reaches his hand out to help but Marf ignores him and starts walking away. It’s still early enough in the morning that there are hardly any people out at the beach. Just a couple morning joggers in the distance. Marf continues to brush sand off of himself while walking up the beach and towards the streets. Damien catches up to him and is now in his regular clothes again while Marf growls at him.
What now?
Oh come on now, we’re just going to glaze over what you did last night?
Marf stops in his tracks and finally turns to look at Damien who is grinning smugly. Marf groans impatiently and tilts his head at Damien.
What…what did I do last night?
Damien laughs at Marf before reaching out and touching the side of Marf’s head along the temple.
Jesus Christ man, you actually don’t remember? Close your damn eyes…
No, fuck off!
Marf attempts to shake his head from Damien’s hand but as he closes his eyes he actually begins to envision something blurry at first. It becomes a little more clear as Marf begins to see what happened just several hours earlier…
| The night before, Bainbridge Island |
Marf sits quietly in the sand on the beach in the dark. The half moon doesn’t help much with the lighting either. It is sometime past midnight and the sounds of the late night surround Marf like a swarm of angry bees. He sits with his down, who knows how long at this point. Good way to wake up with a stiff neck though. His attention is suddenly grabbed as the faint sounds of an approaching motorboat reaches through and takes hold. Marf slowly raises his head and stares out at the blackened sea in front of him.
The sounds of the motor from the oncoming boat become louder until it begins to materialize out of the darkness and into view. A small motorboat appears as a man steers it towards the shore. He kills the engine and let’s the boat drift the rest of the way while Marf watches it silently, like a predator in the dark. No sooner does the boat slide onto the beach the man hops out and stumbles along the sand. He holds his left hand close to his chest and appears to be injured. A large cage used for lobster trapping sits in the boat with fresh blood on one of the rusty corners.
Ahh hell! I thought this was the outpost, shi-at! There’s gotta be a first aid station nearby…can’t see a fuckin’ thing…
The man slowly makes his way up the beach while Marf watches him with cold, dead eyes. He slowly shifts into a low crawl while the man edges closer with no idea. Marf springs into action like a spider jumping onto it’s prey in just split seconds. He drives an elbow hard into the unsuspecting, injured man’s face. It smashes into his nose with a sickening crunch, likely breaking while blood immediately begins to pour out. Marf throws another vicious elbow while the surprised man tries to hold up his hands in defense.
Marf’s elbow smashes onto the man’s already bloodied and injured hand. The man cries out in shock and pain while dropping both his hands. Marf grabs hold of him while he’s defenceless and drives a hard knee into his face, sending him reeling backwards while blood is spraying out all over now. The man stumbles backwards and falls down. He rolls and bumps into the front of his boat. Before he can do anything else Marf is on him and begins driving the injured man’s head into the boat repeatedly. After a dozen or so solid crunches Marf realizes he is dripping with splattered blood. He lets go of the man’s destroyed skull and backs away.
What the fuck have I done?
…you killed that dude, duh.
Marf spins around to see Damien standing behind him, arms cross and dickish smile spread a mile wide on his smug face. Marf, covered in fresh blood still, sneers at the sight of Damien before turning and going back to the body of the now dead man. He searches his pockets and grabs the keys for the boat before pulling the body of the dead man into the boat. Marf dumps the empty lobster cage onto the beach before hopping into the boat and starting it up.
Only got room for two, sorry bud…
Marf is unable to finish his sentence as he turns back and realizes Damien is now sitting on top of the dead body in the boat. Marf frowns and shakes his head before looking back out at the dark waters.
You’re gonna end up fuckin’ capsizing us man.
Oh stop! Will you just admit it already? You could really use my help!
Marf bursts out with a chuckle in disbelief.
The fuck would I ever need your help with!?
Where do I begin? Your career, your life choices. But for right now, this dead body I call a chair at the moment.
Fuck off. I can handle this.
And now it is Damien’s turn to begin laughing with a mocking tone.
Yeah? So, where ya going Marf? You realize if you don’t go far enough out the body will just wash up on shore right away, right? Are you even going the right way??
Marf slams his fist on the side of the boat while growing with anger and annoyance.
Oh and I suppose you know exactly to go, in the pitch black out here?
Of course I do. I’m dead, dumbass. No head to your left for a moment and then go straight.
Marf attempts to argue for a moment but Damien cuts him off by hopping gracefully from the dead body and to a crouched position, pointing ahead while Marf begins to shake with more anger. After several minutes of awkward silence, Damien reaches over Marf and kills the engine before getting shoved back.
The fuck you doing!?
This is good here. Dump his ass.
Marf slowly stands up while the boat drifts along the deadly black waters. He glares at Damien for a moment before brushing past him and over to the dead man’s body. Marf hauls him up and shoves the fresh corpse over the side of the boat. The body drops into the cold water and slowly sinks out of view while Marf watches with disturbed horror. He stares into the water for another moment before snapping out of it, smelling gasoline. Marf turns to find Damien pouring gasoline all over the floor of the boat. He pulls a lighter out of his pocket while Marf’s eyes go wide.
Now we can’t be leaving any evidence behind. There’s blood everywhere…why is that always happening around you anyway?
Damien don’t you fuckin’ dare!
The words are barely out of Marf’s mouth as Damien flicks the lighter to life and sets the boat on fire. The flames begin to spread at a rapid pace before Marf turns and leaps off the boat and into the dark waters. As he surfaced, Marf swims away from the flaming boat while Damien laughs and coughs up some water beside him. Marf takes a swing at him but he’s just out of reach.
Come on then, just under a mile ahead and we’ll hit the western edge of Seattle…
Damien swims on ahead while Marf grumbles and begins swimming after him before everything blurs out of focus.
| Back to Alki beach… |
Marf comes back to reality and shoves Damien’s arm away from him. He looks down at the dried blood all over him and then back up at Damien.
So what? You want an apology or some shit?
No, I want you to get help. I’m not going to spend my afterlife watching you commit murders and help you clean them up. Especially if you’re pulling this amnesia shit. Nah, I’m not just here to hold you accountable for killing me. I’m going to hold you accountable for every piece of shit thing you do!
Marf rolls his eyes at the idea of spending a summer vacation in an asylum. He spits at the feet of Damien before walking past him in disgust.
You wanna haunt me? Have at it fuckbag. But don’t think for a second you’re going to fix me. I’m fuckin’ good…
I’m serious! Don’t get all pouty and leave, come on. Seriously I know a really renown doctor…Marf! Are you listening!?
Marf ignores him and continues walking away while Damien follows not far behind as we fade out.
I do not,
Understand.
What it is,
I've done wrong.
Full of holes,
Check for pulse.
Blink your eyes,
One for yes,
Two for no.
I have no idea what I am talking about.
I'm trapped in this body and can't get out.
Oh, oh.
Oh, oh.
You killed the sound,
Removed backbone.
Pale imitation,
With the edges all,
Sawn off.
I have no idea what you are talking about.
Your mouth moves only with someone's hand up your arse.
| Promo time in promo land |
Clever boy…
Slow pan out from those beautiful blue but frighteningly bloodshot eyes. The sickening sneer hanging around like the cancer that never truly goes away.
First and foremost I just wanna say I can’t wait for Warfare. I’m going to break off the Chameleon’s left hand and shove it up his copycat ass. Nice fuckin’ chair bud, did you buy that yourself or did production have to dig that up for ya? Looks like it has a weird brownish stain on the top of that middle finger. Can’t imagine where that came from…
Marf pulls out one of his patented mocking shrugs before continuing.
So after we trudge through the same old bullshit about me riding the coattails of others we have a pit stop at the predictable “your wins are unimpressive” statement. Last time I checked, I’m not trying to impress anyone, least of all bottom feeding fuckwads like you. I’m here to maim people and take titles in the process. You don’t care about who I beat? Fine with me because I don’t really care who you lost to. Come back to me when you have more than a hard earned loss at a pay per view under your belt.
Oh and by the way, I don’t need to toss any challenges at Alias. I don’t fear him any more than he fears me. Not to mention I’ve already been in the ring with him. He got the win that night but most certainly did not go home a winner, if you catch my drift. Fuckin’ idiot.
Marf literally spits at the camera and the guy holding it is probably pissed off now.
You know, for a guy copying people for a gimmick, you sure suck at reviewing their history. Calling me out for having a career of going for the easy wins? Wanna show me the pattern numb nuts? If I was looking for easy victories why did I challenge the undefeated and longest reigning television champion Charlie Nickles? And fuckin’ win! Better yet, why in the ever loving fuck did I continually challenge Them No Good Bastards for the tag team championships multiple times? With a blue whore chained to my leg the entire time!
Jesus fucking Christ did you even try? If I wanted to coast against a lower tier of competition why haven’t I just stuck around to only opting in for Anarchy? All of this of course is politely overlooking the fact that I don’t book my fucking matches you sack of fermented cow shit. Talk to management if you truly believe I have biased booking against only the weakest of foes. But don’t forget, they booked you against me too. So by your logic…
Marf has no choice here but to go right back to the sarcastic shrug of doom.
So we have clearly established that everything you say is either complete bull shit or just you talking out of your ass. Either way it’s rotten and stinks. Fuck sakes, you even accused me of wasting all my opportunities and not caring. You mean like that time I won a shot at the Xtreme title. Or the time when I competed for said Xtreme title, and fucking won the damn thing. What a waste huh?
Marf shakes his head in disgust while raising the Xtreme title high for a moment and then continuing.
So let me tell you where that leaves us, you slimy piece of lizard shit. I don’t give a well disguised fuck about anything else you have to say from here on out. You’ve made mistake after mistake to the point of having zero merit. I suppose that shouldn’t surprise anyone since your career choice is one big mistake anyway. But the biggest mistake you have made was believing I actually give a damn about respect. I could have let everything else slide. I could have just accepted you’re a disillusioned brat who’s parents wanted to shut him up so they threw their money at a wrestling school to get rid of ya.
Except even with all that money and silver spoons you were still too fucking stupid and unoriginal to come up with anything on your own. So you just steal gimmicks. Real fuckin’ cool you backwards space cadet. But still, I could have gotten past all that. Unfortunately for you, Chameleon, stating I expect respect was the end for you. I have never expected respect for a damn thing I do nor do I give a fuck. Whether you respect me or not doesn’t change that I’m going to introduce you to an entirely new level of pain.
And when I am done bending and breaking all of your body’s rules. When I’ve grown tired of beating my fists against your bloodied carcass. You, Chameleon, the annoying fly of an extra currently in the story of Marf…Well at least then you won’t have to pretend to be a person in a coma.
Marf gives his Xtreme title a hard slap and smiles like the lunatic he loves to be while we fade out.