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Manson 'The Martyr' · **10-26-2014, 03:07 PM**

As I flew over the edge, every sound that could’ve possibly been heard was blocked out. The barking of the commentators, the screaming of the crowd from the inside of the arena, the air whistling in my ears and the ambience of the traffic. It almost felt like time slowing down. Is this what happens before death? Is this going to be the end of both Manson’s body and Gein? It was hard to know what was happening. But anyway, let’s start from the beginning.

.gnineppah saw tahw wonk ot drah saw tI ?nieG dna ydob s’nosnaM htob fo dne eht eb ot gniog siht sI ?htaed erofeb sneppah tahw siht sI .nwod gniwols emit ekil tlef tsomla tI .ciffart eht fo ecneibma eht dna srae ym ni gniltsihw ria eht ,anera eht fo edisni eht morf dworc eht fo gnimaercs eht ,srotatnemmoc eht fo gnikrab ehT .tuo dekcolb saw draeh neeb ylbissop ev’dluoc taht dnuos yreve ,egde eht revo welf I sA

Wargames. Theo had abandoned our team. I was fighting the hardest I’ve ever fought since Manson got bullied in high school and to be honest, it was actually working. I was cleaning house up in this mother fucker! If I got hit, I popped right back up again. If I hit them? They stayed down. This was one of the best debuts I could’ve possibly hoped for. I knew we have a big chance of losing due to the numbers game overwhelming us, but the momentum I was on? Pfft, no way.

But the fall happened.

As my body kept rotating, I stared above at the silhouette of a LH Harrison, he didn’t seem to care. He was just watching me, watching me all the way down.

And down…

And down…

Until my body hit the roof of a parked car, parked conveniently below me, the glass shattering and digging into my spine. I laid there for a few more minutes, not moving. It wasn’t my decision to not move, it was just down to the fact that I couldn’t. I think I am finally dead. I can’t feel anything other than the pounding of my heart, but that was starting to sound faint.

Mother?

Father?

I have failed you…

My eyes opened up immediately, in the same position I was before. What did you really think I was dead? Why would I pray for my parents? I hate my parents! Groaning, I slid off the car bonnet and onto the cold, cracked, litter-covered concrete of the car congested car park. How was that for alliteration? I should be a poet. Slowly crawling on my hands and knees, I reached a brick wall. Planting my hand on the wall made me realised that I was drenched in my own blood. I reached over my shoulder and pulled out a large shard of glass, before throwing it on the floor. I am not in a good shape. I could barely walk before buckling under my legs. This is the part where I realised I need to get back home and cleaned up as quickly as possible.

A FEW HOURS LATER

I stepped out of the taxi after paying. I usually wouldn’t but I really couldn’t be fucked to start any trouble at this early in the morning. Arriving back in the shithole that is Manson’s apartment, I took a shower, washing off all the blood before plucking out all of the excess glass in front of the mirror, which is harder than you would think when you are just a thought inside another person’s body. After cleaning myself up I headed downstairs and grabbed a cold bottle of cider out of the fridge.

Perfect. After that fucking injury, I was tired. Maybe I could get some time off? You know what maybe I should email Shane. Yeah, I’ll go do that. So I log on and go to my emails to find…

I’m booked.

Gein is booked and it’s the main event. I was so fucking angry, I would’ve been raping random people on the street, or decapitating my neighbour at that point in time until I found out what the actual match was. Me and fellow asylum member Hysteria and arguably one of the best wrestlers in the XWF and the X-Treme champ Evertrust, against a rookie and two people I beat the shit out of on Sunday. I don’t care about The Horseman. I don’t care about Venomous.

I care about Maverick.

You see ol’ Mavvy here has been talking shit about me, as well as being my opponent for the TV title, claiming he will win it. Well, if you performed as well as you did at Wargames, then that will never happen. You are a liar. A proved liar. So why bother lying some more? Doesn’t it piss you off how people persistently call you out on it? I hope it does. I hope you’re watching this and feel anger towards me. Use it. Use it in our match if you want any chance of winning. Prove that you’re not a liar! Then you will blow it. You will lie. You will say something along the lines that you will beat me, just like you 'beat' me at Wargames. You didn’t beat me at Wargames. I beat you, but your team won the match. You see, you contributed to nothing. You could’ve laid down and the result would’ve been the same without you.

So this Wednesday Night Warfare, I make a promise. Maverick will lose. You will not stop the the psychotic force that is Hysteria. You will not stop the never ending arsenal of Evertrust. And you will not... and you know you need to trust me on this one... you could use all the imagination and willpower you want to believe that you are better than us but... you're not. The deeper you dig your lying deceit hole, the farther your lying ass will have to climb out of it.

I'm sorry if you don't like my honesty, but I quite frankly, I don't like your lies.

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