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Morbid Angel · (08-16-2016)

In the forest of broken crosses
The aryan wind has blown
The blazing torch of death's majesty
Reflected on the skull

Torching winds of war
The semite creation in ashes
The remains blown away to the past
Of the new Nefarious order

And the star that lights the night
Is the eye of the one with horns

Horizon engulfed in red clouds
A thundering roar as the star of david is crushed
The slow death of degeneration
A new order of wisdom is at hand
God is now dead!

The summer is fading fast as the sky faded into darkness, the temperature slowly dropped as the wind blew past.
The creaking of an old gate leading to a decapitated old mansion.

[Image: fd98b5ac518aa15ab94bf967d3b2d3b9.jpg]

[Image: fd98b5ac518aa15ab94bf967d3b2d3b9.jpg]

One can only imagine that Morbid Angel would be inside because it is a Morbid Angel promo...even the camera man knows that Morbid likes to dabble in the creepy and borderline on the frightening, making those filming him fear for their lives!

The camera slowly gets closer to the building as the sun finishes it decent behind the hills far in the distance...

A figure is seen looming on the third story balcony, walking back and forth from rail to rail and back inside...a frame that doesn't fit the massive demeanor of Morbid Angel. The camera man digresses and continues towards the building because that's what he gets paid to do.

Once inside the smell of mold and wet is over powering, the aroma that can be described as a wet basement intensified by one thousand. The fact that the windows were long gone and yet a smell so powerful could even linger was perplexing.

Along with the odor there was the unsettling feeling of being watched closely. No matter how quickly you turn around there still is a feeling of being watched by someone in the room, even when no one is there.

The unlikelihood of this former dwelling being haunted is very high, the thought of it being Morbid Angel fucking around is always on the table of possibilities because nothing...and I mean nothing is beyond his capabilities.

Being the man that called himself a god for the past two years and then decided to cure death but trying to kill himself...there is no line he won't cross while he wonders through insanity, even if it means he he has to stoop to parlor tricks to get a rise out of people.

The camera man steadily makes his way through the house with nothing but the camera light to guide him through these darkened corridors, looking for the stairs to the upper levels of this decaying relic, sifting through years of neglect with his feet as he scuffled across the filthy floor, slowly feeling for weak spots in the floor and hoping to not fall in.

Finally he found the decrepit stairs that have seen many better days and made his way up them while holding almost one hundred pounds of equipment on top of his near two hundred pounds of girth. The stairs moaned with every step, like a hollowed warning of impending danger.

At the top he turns to the right and sees the shadow of a man of lesser build, as the camera man moves closer the man takes form...Steve Sayers!

Panic was in his eyes as the camera zoomed in, he was tied up and not gagged with a note pinned to his shirt. The camera zoomed to the note.

"Here we are. In a match with another want to be champion.

Jacob Davis

Jacob Davis is known for being some what of a joke in the XWF and as it would turn out, he will not disappoint.

I, Morbid Angel will take much pride in cutting off his cock and wearing it along side the other failures of the XWF.

Other than that I can honestly say that I am unhappy with his lack of work put forth for our match, he ignored me, he made me feel like less of a man...Makes me feel like I am just some old fuck that isn't worth his time, even though he is the one that is not worth MY time. Why were we even placed in this match together? Have I really sunk this low?

I faced bad ass motherfuckers before and now I get to face this piece of shit?

...I blame Vinnie Lane! He always hated me!

It's because i'm better than he is!

Love and Torture,

Morbid Angel"

As the camera moved back to Sayers face his eyes turned to terror and muffled screams as there was a thud and the camera falls to the floor! As the camera bounced on the ground it flashed the ugly face of Morbid Angel before it settled facing a rotten wall. The sounds that followed can only be described as someone pulverizing meat, repeated beating, turning to the sounds of mushy tones that leaves one to believe blood is letting and spattering...

The scene fades to a Blood Red!

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Jacob Davis is Probably Jewish.
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