They say that sometimes to understand someone, you need to bring yourself to their level. Sometimes that level is good but more often than not it is very, very bad. Sometimes you have to lower yourself to a point where you don’t even know yourself in the mirror anymore. You can look at it all day, and still not recognize the person inside it staring back at you. Sometimes you learn to accept that person, sometimes you push them away. But a true winner is able to succeed when the person staring back at them may not be someone they know well, and a true winner can accept that person staring back at them.

In Chris’s case, he has accepted that person for the most part, but there is still something in him that doesn’t want to. He had done horrific things in his life, and terrible things in the ring to his opponents, but he had been, for the most part, successful. He had lowered himself many times before, and some of his biggest moments in his career came when he dug deep into the recesses of his evil soul and found a place he didn’t know he could go. Each time getting more and more demented and sick. Each time making him question his actions, but accepting them because they worked out in his favor. This was one of those times.

CONTINUED FROM SLEEP NOW IN THE FIRE RP:

Early May, 2006

The old barn in Brandon, Florida, about 13 miles northeast of Tampa, was said to be haunted. It was a popular attraction spot for teens, as well as thrill seekers and paranormal researchers. It was also the site of a few grizzly murders that took place within the last 30 or so years. The black sedan rolled up to the driveway at the base of the property the barn sat on. Passing by the caution tape and through the bent and worn down fence that blocked off the property, now overgrown with brush, the car hit a pot hole as it roared up the small incline. Skidding to a stop near the barn, the driver door flew open. 18 year old Chris got out, still in his prom suit, and in literally 2 steps was at the trunk. Popping it open, he smiled a sick smile.

“Hey there….how was the ride?”

“Rrrrpmh! Rrrrrppphh!” The occupant, who obviously had their mouth taped, tried to say something.

“Good, I enjoyed it too. Come on now, we have a lot more fun to have!”

He lifted the occupant out of the trunk, and put them over his shoulder. It was Nicole’s sister, Christina, who had her hands bound and ducttape over her mouth. He carried her inside the rickety old barn as she struggled and kicked in protest.

Getting inside, he threw her down on an old table, testing the strength of the legs as it shook. He was going to have fun. Even more fun than he had had just a few short hours ago.

“Shhh, shhh, baby don’t scream. You knew this was coming. You had to have. And you will enjoy it, I know you will.”

“Rrrrrrrrppppmmmhh!”

Chris was in a mode he had never been in before. The Dagastino’s had pushed him to this. He didn’t WANT to do anything he had done in the last 36 hours---but he wasn’t himself anymore, at least for right now. Until this was over, he wasn’t himself---and he may never forgive himself.

But this needed to be done.

…..For him, for nobody else.

Chris reemerged with a white lab coat on, holding what looked like a surgical tool in his hand. Her eyes went wide.

“Oh yeah. Your daddy is a doctor isn’t he? He has probably told you about all the great things he has done to other people. He has probably told you about all of his surgeries. He has probably told you he was ‘helping them’ wasn’t he? Oh yeah, helping them. Just like I am helping you…..”

She screamed again under her gag.

“Shhh….shhhh….I am only helping you. Just like daddy did. Just think of me as your daddy…..”

This wasn’t the Chris she knew. This wasn’t the Chris that treated Nicole like a princess and bent over backwards for her. This wasn’t the Chris that had been over at their house at least 100 times. This wasn’t, as Nicole put it, ‘her future brother in-law’. This was someone different. Was this even a someone? Who, or what, she saw in front of her couldn’t be human. This person, or thing, didn’t have a soul.

He ripped the tape off her mouth, eliciting a scream.

“CHRIS! CHRIS! STOP! PLEASE! THIS ISN’T YOU! I KNOW THIS ISN’T YOU!”

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" He back handed her. The comforting and soft demeanor he once spoke with was gone......then it came back in the snap of a finger.

“See what you made me do? Shhh….be a good girl. Just let what God has intended to happen, happen.”

She began to cry. She had no idea about her house, her parents, Nicole. All she knew was that she smelled smoke, noticed a fire, then woke up in a trunk. She had no idea where she even was. Oh god, what time was it even? What day was it.

Chris put the surgical tool on her inner thigh, and pushed down. It tore though her jeans and made a small cut. Christina let out a cry.

“Chris….we can talk about this, I know where Nicole is, I can talk to my parents, we can make this right! You don’t have to do this!”

Chris pulled back and grinned, laughing a little under his breath.

“They always say that. When the guilty know their time is coming, they always beg. They could be the hardest criminal in the world, and they always beg before the needle goes in. Or pray. It’s kind of pathetic actually. Remember when your daddy said he wanted to give me a lobotomy so I forgot who Nicole was?”

Christina was crying now, and didn’t respond.

“REMEMBER!” He growled, smacking the table she was on.

“YES!” She whimpered, “but he was joking. My father can be a jerk sometimes, he didn’t mean anything by it, Chris, he didn’t!”

Chris chuckled again.

“Sure he didn’t. That is why I am here throwing my entire life away for his precious little daughter. His REAL daughter. His blood daughter. The fruit of his loins. You realize that I am going to either go away for a long time or be shot by police, right? I am not going to get away with this...I know that, so you can save me the bad movie cliché.”

Right at that moment, she thought she was going to die. She was still so young! She had so much life to live still! Why was he doing this? She didn’t deserve this. Chris had a grin on his face, his eyes were wide as he ran the surgical tool up her leg and pressed her on the outside of her jeans, over her vagina. Her eyes went wide.

“DON’T!” she yelled, almost a squeal.

“Well, someone is a little sensitive?”

She cried. He was going to mutilate her. Her cheerleading days were over.

“Do you remember…..” he asked, unzipping her jeans to expose her pink panties, “when you first started cheering and you made Nicole feel ugly because you made the cheer team and she was interested in other things?”

A crying Christina nodded weakly.

“Do you remember what your father, the Doctor, told Nicole?”

Christina shook her head, crying and sniffling.

“He said that she wasn’t pretty enough anyway and it was good she didn’t try out, it saved the family embarrassment when she got cut. Now, how do you think that made her feel?”

“Chris…..you are a psycho. She was fine with it. She didn’t want to cheer anyway.”

“ANSWER THE QUESTION!” He slapped the table again. She cried more.

“She, she probably didn’t feel good” Christina sniffled. “But, wha—whattt does that have to do with right noowww….where we areee?” she asked, her voice cracking.

“I am glad you asked” Chris said with a smirk, “you see, in order to fully understand someone, you need to get to their level. You need to bring yourself down and think how they think. You need to become them. Your father would do anything on this earth to keep Nicole away from me, and now I am going to do something drastic to keep you away from him.”

He ran the surgical tool softly across her face. She whimpered.

“Tell me….the night Nicole took the calcium pills. It was YOU who recommended taking her to Bayview ER wasn’t it? WASN’T IT! It was YOU who said that she could be “healed”. Like a doctor in your own right. You said you wanted to go to college to study psychology because you want to help people…..you wanted to be everyone’s friend. Where has that gotten you? WHERE?! Don’t tell me you had good intentions. Some of the worst actions on this planet have been done with the best intentions. So that being said…..I have only good intentions for you.”

She began to whine and whimper again.

“Chris, I’m sorry. I am sorry. Please don’t kill me. Please.”

“Who said I was going to kill you? Hahahahah you are just simply too much fun….”

He pulled her jeans down to her ankles and unzipped his fly. Putting the tape back over her mouth she squirmed as Chris came towards her, and the camera went blank.

“hhrrrmmph! NRRROORGHH” could be heard followed by only static.

TO BE CONTINUED

+-_=_=--+

============

“Doc….you can add rapist to that little list of yours too. Kidnapping, murdering, arsonist, rapist. It isn’t a part of my past that I am proud of, but it was part of it none-the-less. I needed to get to that place in order to truly understand. I have only been there once in my life, but I know I need to get there again. And I will…...Wednesday Night.

Chris was sitting in an doctor’s office, but something was different. This one was run down, with the wallpaper peeling and mold on the walls. There was an old desk in the middle of the room, chipped and peeling as well. Sitting behind the desk was Chris. He had an hour glass sitting in front of him. Turning it over, he looked up at the camera. The room was lit only by candles.

Turning it over, he looked at the camera.

“And…..go.”

"Doctor....

....That term is used so loosely nowadays. If you are a doctor, I am a surgeon. I dissect opponents in the ring. I take them apart. I cut them open and pull their insides out just to stuff them back in the wrong way. Though this is all a metaphor, in a weird way it is true. I have taken down and torn apart everyone I have faced to this date. I have taken this company by storm in a few short months. I can't say you haven't accomplished a decent amount as well, but you have never had an opponent quite like me. Never faced someone quite as crazy as me. I am willing to go to levels before seen in the professional wrestling community in order to achieve the success I feel I deserve. I will go to lengths that could be considered terroristic to get what I want. Am I a douche? Probably. But I am a douche who wins.

So let's explore. Who is this Doctor D'ville? What do I see when I look at him? I don't see a winner, I don't see a champion. What I see is a senior citizen lunatic who has read too much murder-thriller fantasy books. Someone who thinks they are some big bad wolf in a woods full of skiddish deer. He isn't intimidating. In fact, unlike Dolly Waters who I had the displeasure of dealing with last week, he is almost to a point where I don't want to face him because I don't want to hurt him too badly. I mean, seriously, osteoporosis is a bitch, Louis. Sure, the insult may seem generic but goddamn. Why do I always seem to be matched up against the extreme ends of the 'acceptable to be employed' scale? I mean, he could be sitting on a beach front condo somewhere sipping mai tai's, but instead he is going through the rigorous grind of life on the road. Maybe he deserves props for that. All I know is he has run into a buzz saw with Chris Chaos, and I will put him on the shelf like Frodo should have done long ago. This company is essentially his 401K and his AARP all rolled into one. This company is his insurance policy, and I am his termination papers. His policy expires Wednesday Night in Norway. And if his little tag partner Beetlejuice gets involved, I'll snuff his ass out too.

I had to fly all the way to this shithole country to prove a point. What point is that you ask? The point is that I am the best wrestler on this roster currently. I am the present and the future. Sure, D'Ville has beaten a lot of big names here but his most notable feud here in recent history is with Dolly Waters. What does that say? The bad blood between those two is well known, but I have dispatched Muddy Waters and if it weren't for a kilt-wearing cock monger in Kitt Kennedy, I would have dispatched his daughter as well. Hell, Louis even had his hands full with John Black. I mean, is this seriously the best they can come up with? This is how I get rewarded for my efforts in recent weeks? I have half a mind to protest. I mean, does this match seriously need to be in Norway? I understand the world tour aspect....but I have to fly 9 hours on a plane for this scrub? At least XWF opened the check book and paid for my plane tickets, it was the least they could do.

Also, why book me in a standard match? They must want to protect their investment. They know as well as anyone who has watched XWF programming in the last month or so knows, that if this was an extreme rules match there is a good chance you will never see Doctor Louis D'Ville again. I would be walking away with my hand raised and he would be leaving on a stretcher. But, to protect their guy, they gave me a match with 'rules'. That is okay. I like a challenge. I like to be tested in a matches where I have to wrestle a certain way. I am going to show this so called 'Doctor' a few things about operating between the ropes. So he is a Tag Team Champion. Does he want some sort of special praise for this? He claims that everyone in this company is a patient of some sort, and he is their treatment. He will heal them. Let me tell you right now, I am beyond broken, and can't be fixed. The only therapy I have is getting up every morning, looking in that mirror, and knowing that I am the baddest motherfucker to step in that ring on a nightly basis. That is it. Fuck titles, fuck being the top dog---I want to be feared. And I will be, if I am not already.

I am told you are one of the best around here. I am told you are considered one of the "top dogs", one of the "elite". Well, I come over here now with a clean slate. I realized something while I was going for the Savage Title over there on that Saturday show. I realized that those scrubs aren't even worth my time or attention. If I really want to do battle with the currents gods of professional wrestling, I gotta come over here to the flagship show. I have to put up with the traveling in order to really assert myself. So, Doctor, consider me a main stay here on your show. That stupid Television Title is below me anyway. Let that little pre-k cum stain defend it and get pounded into the canvas week in and week out.

I came here to your show to show you true pain, Doc. And what can you possibly tell me other than the same? You can't say I haven't taken the company by storm. You can't say I haven't made an impression. And you can't say I haven't put just a tiny shred of concern into you regarding facing me in Norway. It eats at you, doesn't it? You saw me on the schedule and there was a tiny knot at the bottom of your lower intestine wasn't there? You have skated your way through the bullshit long enough and your veteran intuition told you that the future of this business was going to be staring you in the face. Looking right into the barrel of a smoking gun. A gun that is aimed directly at your shiny, balding forehead. You see, if you shoot someone in the chest, they can still survive. But the chances of survival with a head shot are much, much less. I am the pistol that will fire that fatal shot, Doc. So go ahead, tell me I am worthless. Tell me I have lost all the big matches here I have been in. Tell me I blew my opportunity at a title twice, three times if you count the draw with Isabella. Go ahead, because it is only making me that much hungrier.

The hour glass was about half way empty when Chris took it in a rush, and smashed it on the table. It instantly cut his hand and spilled sand all over the desk.

Pain was nothing to him. He loved pain. He accepted pain. He embraced pain. Ad he embraced blood. When he bled he knew he was truly alive.

Running a bloody hand through his hair, he smiled again at the camera. Something in his eyes was deep, dark, and scary.

Like monsters under the bed, or in the closet.

"And I have addressed the issue to the Television Title debacle in my first promo against Ginger on Savage. When management decides to air it is their choice. But since you obviously haven't seen it yet, let me just give you the cliffnotes. I am not concerned at all with that belt. In fact, I am happy Dolly won it. Now she has to defend it every week and get pounded on by competitor after competitor, night after night, and never excel past the mid card. You see, I caused chaos by allowing them to think I was emotionally invested in that match. I said since Day 1 that I am coming after Scully and that Universal Belt. Maybe the Hart Title and Ghost Tank. Either way, I am above that belt. To win it, sure, would be great, but if you are trying to get under my skin by bringing up the match it isn't working. And unlike Kitt, I don't need to petition for a re-match, I can call out Dolly any time I want and I will get it. That is the respect that I have garnered in my short time here, and the level of mediocrity he has had to stoop to. Hell, he is so desperate for someone to pay attention to him that he went after the Heavymetalweight Title! How much more pathetic can you get?

That is not me......

I now have a challenge in front of me that is of monstrous proportions. You are the best, or at least one of them. That is what they claim. A win versus you would catapult my career into the upper echelon and make me forever a main eventer here. In the wise words of Ric Flair "To Be The Best You've Gotta Beat The Best". There is no second place in this business. A 'good showing' against you just isn't acceptable. I will learn about who it really is that I am this week because I either have it, or I don't.

I wouldn't consider it being thrown to the wolves, oh no. Just the opposite. I consider it to be an opportunity given to me because nobody else is deserving. You look at is as a punishment to have to face you, I see it as a privilege. Hell, Muddy Waters was a goddamn legend around here with an impressive win/loss record and I took him to school and burned him alive.

I look at this as an opportunity to let the young gun show the grizzled veteran what he has. This is a moment that legends are made of. So no, its not throwing me to the wolves because the only wolf here is ME! I eat career like a wolf tears apart a dear carcass, Doc. It is what I do and what I have always done.

Quote:"Or accept the fact you're in some deeeeeeeeep water and you suck at swimming."

Do you want to know why those ocean videographers and shark cage divers have such a hard job? Do you know why they are looked at as brave? Because you never know what lies beneath. As soon as you set one foot in that water you run the risk of running into something hungry, with big teeth, that has the capability of killing you without expending much effort, if any. I am that shark. I am hungry, and it has been oh so long since I have eaten anything worth while. When you step into that ring doctor, you are in MY ocean, and you just never know what a hungry shark will do when he hasn't eaten in a while. I am the ruler of my ocean, and I decide what lives and what dies.

You see.....a lot of people are going to tell me I am not on your level. And maybe I am not. I mean, I have only been in this company since mid summer, and have only had a handful of matches. You have a resume as long as the state of Florida. You are 32-5 -and 1. I am 5-2-and 2. I have a long way to go, I know that. But, think about it.....This is a match for you that should be a cake walk, right? This is a match for a long time champion and a top dog here that you are SUPPOSED to win. I know for a fact you don't respect me. The only way guys like you respect guys like me is if the respect is beaten into them. That is my job. After I am done smacking Ginger around the ring on Saturday, I can focus my sights on doing the one job I have failed to do---win the big one.

Careers are made by accomplishments in the ring. So far, I have a handful of wins but I haven't managed to win the big one. Dillinger, the TV title match, you name it. But this is the biggest match of my career to date. I have never faced anyone with this extensive of a resume. Not in PW and certainly not here. You are a king in your own right. You are a god here. You say that I am just another patient on your list, I have to say I am honored. I have to say I am honored to be the one who gets to bring you down a peg or two. You see, I have a long way to go to get on your level....hell you will probably be smoking your little cigars in a retirement home by the time I am, so there is only one logical thing to do......

....I have to bring you down to mine. I have to make you my equal. I have to, for one night, make the doctor and the patient the same person.......I have to bring out my best by bringing out my worst....if that makes any sense.

Prepare Doctor, for the first time in your illustrious career, prepare.....

.....to be equalized."

He get up and smiles a sick grin into the camera. Blood runs down his palms as he blows a kiss to the camera before blowing out the candle , turning the already dark scene to black.


XWF RECORD: 5-2-2 Because a double pin is a draw. A draw is not a loss, so fuck off!