+- X-treme Wrestling Federation (https://xwf99.com)
+-- Forum: Warfare Boards (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=6)
+--- Forum: Warfare RP Board (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=12)
+--- Thread: Challenger - Part 2 (/showthread.php?tid=6418)
Challenger - Part 2 - Smoke - 09-09-2013
Smoke Man is sitting cross-legged in the centre of the War Room's ring as the camera fades in. He's looking dead at the camera, in his full wrestling gear. The hundreds of seats behind him are empty, and his hands are to his sides, resting on the mat. All of the lights are on: flood, stage, surrounding, everything. All for the young rookie sitting alone in the ring.
Saying that I have butterflies in my stomach doesn't even begin to describe how I'm feeling going into Warfare this Wednesday. To be able to walk out into that match... right now I feel a spectrum of emotion almost a mile wide. From anxious to nervous, from excited to ecstatic. In simply my fifth match, I may be able to win the X-Treme Title.
He stands up on the spot, still looking at the camera as he speaks.
Doing that will elevate me to a level beyond even the wildest of imagination. The thought of that alone is what drives me. Think about it, in such a small space of time I would have the most prized possession in all of the XWF. Me. Smoke Man. But let's not talk as if I've already won. There are five people that stand in my way. My teammates from the War Games encounter, and of course, the Champion himself. Who they are personally does not matter to me in the slightest. The only thing that matters to me is at the end of the night I will walk out as the Champion. I will bruise my body, tear my face, go to hell and back, and destroy my soul to just walk home with the belt. There is nothing. NOTHING more important to me as of right now. The belt will me mine. I will chokeslam whoever, whenever, or however I need to. Through tables, chairs, off ladders, into the announce table, off the set, into the crowd, off the roof of the goddamn building, whatever it takes to beat the fight out of the others.
He turns his body and starts walking slowly over to one of the corners of the ring, specifically the one above the stairs facing the stage.
And whatever they do to me I'll fight back. Harder. Faster. And with as much power and fury that I can muster. You can throw me into traffic, tear my heart out and rip it to shreds, even send me to hell itself and I will find a way back. I will not surrender. Pin. Or submit.
Reaching the turnbuckles, he grabs the top ropes on either side and climbs up, perching himself on the top turnbuckle and sitting forward to look into the camera up close.
My most powerful tool going into this match is my Smokescreen Armbar. With that, my victory - at least in my eyes - is guaranteed. When the vice is clawed on, you will not be able to escape, because I know that there will be no one to save you. I don't care how many people are in the ring, because in the end there has to be only one winner. And that winner will not be Angelus. It will not be Christine Nash, Jason E Smith or Paradoxica. And it will certainly not be Cam Lang.
He lets out a prolonged deep breath, gathering his thoughts.
Out of everyone in that match, Cam, I see you as my biggest threat. Think of that what you will, but take it with a grain of salt. It does not at all mean that I think that you're better than me, but I do know what you're like. I would imagine that your Extreme Revolution buddies would like to play in this match too? Hell, by then you might even be Tag Champions if Heyman doesn't decide to make you one third of his 'Personal Bitch Brigade' again. Know this; you're my number one target for Wednesday. Not Angelus. Not Paradoxica. You. You must have expected this after scoring the pin, and I will admit that's a big factor. But you can wipe that smug-ass smile off your face now. Because here is your only warning. One way or the other I will be the one to eliminate you. And I will do so by wrapping, twitching, and stretching your arm so thin, that the mighty and oh-so proud Cam Lang will tap out to a simple minded rookie.
A rookie that will walk out the X-Treme Champion, by making anyone - and everyone - tap out.
He smirks his usual smirk.
The smoke is drawing close, my friends.
And the predator is hungry.
The lights shut off.