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Morbid Angel · (01-19-2021)

Oh, how time flies, how things change. Sometimes for the better and sometimes for the more interesting.

It has been a long two years since the one known as Morbid Angel reared his ugly head to be something more than what a normal man could be.

Morbid Angel, the man. The myth. The incredibly odd and eccentric…Christian?

Could it be true?

Could this be the next saga for the Morbid one? Could Jesus Christ really come into his heart to change the evilest man in sports entertainment toda…Uh, from the past?

The scene opens to a large arena outside of Boston Massachusetts, the cheering and praising can be heard outside in the parking lot.

The camera moves forward towards the entrance. It pans around to show a sea of cars parked ranging from the finest of vehicles such as the 2021 BMW X5 to the worst specimens of the auto industry. Like the Kia Rio. What is up with those pieces of junk. Why would anyone buy something so crappy? Does it matter? These people are here for a reason. One good reason.

Giving

The cameraman enters the building, muffled voices can be heard over the loudspeakers. A voice that sounds oddly familiar, the strong, deep Russian accent rumbling through the halls still sends shivers down his spine knowing who it belongs to.

The camera man exhales deeply with the memories of dealing with the man connected to that voice. The horror, the fear, The homoerotism!

He pushes forward across the large lobby and towards the double doors on the first level.

“PHRAISE BE TO THE LORD!”

The voice yells. Followed by a loud rebuttal in sync from the audience.

“PHRAISE BE TO JESUS!”

The camera gets closer. Two men in suits open the doors allowing him to enter quickly. The bright lights from the pulpit flash the camera causing everything to blur for a few seconds. As the machine struggles to focus it pans around to show thousands of people on their feet clapping then back to the stage.

A man stands there with a familiar face.

It can’t be!

Could it be?

“Giveth unto me the fruits of thy labor and thou shall forever be in the grace of Heaven!”

The familiar man said.

“That is written in Leviticus 11:49. The Lord wants you to plant a seed of offering and you will reap the rewards one hundred times over! Tithe and you shall be healed! The lord spoke to me this very morning and said there will be a good many skeptics here willing to not give to the lord and they shall be not healed, they shall not be prosperous!”

The man walks over to a bottle of water and takes a sip, the sweat dripping from his face. He grabs a towel and wipes away the perspiration.

“A lot of you have doubted my change from what I was. I was a drug addict, a monster to all. I did horrendous things to my fellow men…and some women. I assure you I have changed for the better. The Lord came into my heart and showed me my true calling in life and that is to be here and preach the good word and heal people!”

The crowd cheers and claps for the man.

“The Lord came to me and said that these hands that caused so much pain and anguish shall now Heal the sick, empower the human soul and allow his divine judgment to pass through me like the electricity from his lightning.“

The camera zooms in as the man grabs a bible and begins to read.

“And I shall send a man to do thy bidding. Lift the weak, heal the sick, raise the dead. He will be a man viewed as unjust to all, lost until he is found by my grace”

The man shuts the book and holds the leather bound book high into the air.

“These are the words of our almighty God! This isn’t something I can just make up and say it is true if it’s in the good book.
I was that man he spoke of. I was unjust. You all have seen me heal the sick, the wicked and lift the weak from their lowest depths. I am here to show my loyal followers and the world that I am the way into God’s grace.”

He puts the book down on his alter and lightly pats it like a precious jewel he had been looking for.

The scene fades to black.

A video from the past. The great fall it has been come to be known as. Something that Vinnie Lane and all the other GMs tried to hide from the world. This once fearful and dominating man in the XWF decent into proverbial darkness.

The Fall of Morbid Angel.

It was widely known that Morbid's great wealth was things of legend. A self-made millionaire from all his endeavor’s in the business world. From his long career as a fighter ranging back into the mid 1990’s.

All that and I mean all that had quickly come to an end. His lifestyle had taken control and the hardcore steroid abuse mixed with his dozen funeral homes losing business all because he popped a woman’s titty implant during what he even called an “aggressive embalming session”. The lawsuit cost him greatly. In conjunction with his fascination with dick collecting and wearing the severed cock of Peter Gilmour around his neck to every match and even to business meetings caused him to lose booking ability when the XWF changed networks.

Losing business caused him to lose his funeral homes which caused him to lose his ability to use steroids and eventually lose his Mansion and town, Morbidonia. Which he purchased on Ebay for the meager amount of $500,000.

As Morbid Angel walked homeless, working random jobs to pay for protein drinks and over the counter testosterone boosters. He truly hit rock bottom when he was hanging outside the local men’s bath house so he could get his protein from used condoms that were thrown away.

His muscles started to fade; he was a shell of what he once was. Eating out of trashcans, begging for money. Having given up on life, this former Soviet Spetsnaz leader was now reduced to living like a vile piece of trash looked down upon by most of this civilized society.

The scene show’s Morbid Angel laying behind a dumpster eating the remnant of some putrid sandwich he had found somewhere out there. Probably from yesterdays lunch menu, the bread was already hard and crunchy as well as the meat starting to turn. He was unphased as he ate. His face had a dead stare just looking forward at a dead racoon that probably died eating the same food he was.
Perhaps this was his way of hopefully dying by eating the same poison that killed that animal. Maggots squirming on the carcass mere feet from him. The smell left something to be desired but then again it could have been Morbid Angel himself.

Suddenly there was a light that came to him and moved the trashcan. A light so bright it blinded him when he rolled over to see what the commotion was.

“What the fuck!”

He muttered while chewing his food. He sits up to see an apparition of a man walking towards him.

“Who the fuck is that? Is it you, Lane! BASTARD!”

The specter gets closer.

“I’m not Lane but I’m here to help you.”

He said as he reached his hand out towards Morbid Angel to hand him something. Morbid reaches back and snatches it from his grasp like it might have bitten him if he took too long.

“Go there, they will help you become who you were supposed to be” The deep voice said as it slowly faded away behind the bright light.

The trashcan was slowly put back down, and the light was gone like it never existed. Morbid sits in the mild darkness, the only light he had was from a near by streetlamp that flickered due to its aging bulb needing replaced but is good enough for this small business.

He looks at the card…It was an invitation for church service! Fucking church! Goddamned Mother Fucking church!

It offered him food, shower, clean clothes and a possible job. I mean while life was already sucking ass for the Morbid one, what could it hurt to get some real food and a shower. Perhaps some clothes that fit. After losing his muscle mass and all that extra weight he was truly wearing clothes three sizes too big for him.
He slowly picks himself off the ground using the help of the dumpster all the while thinking about the man who gave him the card. Who was that and why did they come to him of all people? Could it of been a messenger of god? Or was it just some lame misguided fuck that pushes the word of fables.

Morbid Angel wanted to know but did not really care. He wanted off the streets and perhaps into a better station in life. Things have really gone to shit after losing his XWF contract around the time he was caught injecting steroids into his cock vein when they tried to push their wellness policy.

He begins to walk in the direction of the address.

[b]The scene fades to black.

Churches. Americas favorite place for redemption and sixth favorite for chicken. Churches are a cornerstone for American life, with over 350,000 congregations in the United States and a lot of them do great work such as feeding the hungry and clothing the poor. But this is not a story about them. It is a story about the rise of Kyril Krizchiev, America’s up and coming televangelist.

We last seen Morbid Angel walking towards the church to seek help. It was miles away from where he was, but he made the walk hoping for some type of relief from his own tormenting hell he put himself in. Prepared for the bombardment of religious bullshit and rhetoric. He was a beaten man looking to lessen his decent into the earth and from becoming food for the worms.

Holding off death is what life is. Without the ever lingering threat of death no one would do anything. Live each day as if it could be your last was his motto until his fall from the top. Then it had turned into surviving another day in hopes to return to the top…and finally just giving up and awaiting the god of death to take him to hell where he could just burn in peace.

The man who handed him the card gave him a glimmer of hope that life could once again be better, that perhaps he could once again be more.

As Morbid approached the church he inhaled deeply. Who would have thought the Mighty Morbid Angel would ever seek help from God’s chosen people?

No one. Not even once.

It was late at night. Quickly approaching midnight when he arrived at the doors. He pressed the doorbell and waited not sure if anyone would answer at this hour. To his surprise the light came on and he was greeted by an older woman dressed as if she just arrived for work. Apparently, churches run a 24-hour business here.
She unlocked the door and opened it Greeting him with a smile and overlooking his disgusting appearance and smell.[/b]

“It is late my child; do you need some help?” She said with a smile.

Morbid froze not knowing what to say. He reached his hand out while clutching the card he was given earlier that night and handed it to her. It was the cleanest thing on his person at the time. She took it and gave it a look over before smiling again.

“Come in and let’s get you cleaned up and something to eat.” She said as she moved aside allowing him to enter.

His towering frame slowly entered; His hair covers his face in hopes to hide his identity from anyone who may have seen him on TV.

She locked the door behind him and led him to an area to get cleaned up and changed.

She left him alone and he undressed to shower. This being his first shower in probably 3 months he was rather filthy. There was a towel, Small packaged bar of soap and shampoo sitting next to the shower. It was a sign of better things to come for him. Finally, after almost 3 years on the streets he can feel clean and almost human again.

He began to wash away the filth and become anew. Enjoying every second of comfort it brought him.

The scene fades to black.

A new man is born and all it took was a shower, new clothes and some food. No one seems the wiser when it comes to recognizing Morbid Angel, everyone treated him like just another guy except for the random comment about his height here and there.

Only thing he does not agree with is the hourly prayer sessions that take place before everything. I mean who has all this spare time to just pray to some sky daddy that never answers your prayers in the first place. Morbid fakes it just to get back on his feet. As others bow their heads, he sits up tall and watches others pray for forgiveness and for absolution for their misdeeds. I guess it helps the human soul to think they are forgiven for their crimes by so mythical deity.
They gave him a new job to pay for his clothes, food and shelter. He worked as a loader/unloader for their subsidiary company dealing with donations and charity work. It also put some much-needed money back in his pocket so he can continue to get back on his feet.

Being one of the hardest workers there he quickly moved up from his starting station of loader/unloader to stocker, to manager then he was asked to meet with the head preacher of the church about another advancement.
The Head preacher was an older man quickly approaching his 80’s. A nice man who wasn’t afraid to say it how it is, even to Morbid Angel, whom they called Kyril in order to hide his true identity.

It was quickly seen by the preacher that he was not some idiot that couldn’t get out of his own way in life but someone with intelligence. He spoke few words to people but when he did it was straight to the point and people listened

He was offered the job of collecting the tithe’s and counting the money after the church services then bringing it to the bank for deposit the following day.
He became the church accountant within a year.

He never went to the church services until that time. He still believed that it was all about Pushing lies and false hope to the weak minded. None the less, he took the job. He cut his hair and was given a suit and he went to work.

Every Sunday and Wednesday he would walk the isles collecting money filled envelopes, be it cash or check while the pastor stood preaching the “good word” to a large audience in attendance. Listening to everything he was saying. Saying what everyone came to hear. All the good news about the afterlife, prosperity, fortunes and giving, giving, giving.

Emphasis on the giving.

Each day he worked he would hear the pushing of importance of donating to the church, how important it was to fund their crusade to save the unforgiven.
All these words were spoken from a man that drives a car that costs more than most people’s yearly salary. Living in a house that most of his congregation would dream of.

Morbid could see the angle, he was far from blinded by the light.

What people need in life is to feel safe. What makes someone safer than believing in eternal life and that what you accomplish on this earth now will be worth nothing in the next EXCEPT giving your eternal soul and worshiping something that you cannot see, you cannot hear and you cannot touch or taste.
What is a soul?

It is something people think is that pain inside when you do something wrong, that pain when you feel when you do good or do something righteous. Does that mean we have souls or are we just extraordinarily complex beings that have many feelings and emotions that can be chalked up to chemical’s in the brain sending synapsis to area’s in the body making you feel good?

Truth is we can never know the full truth behind life until we die. We can only speculate what will happen until that fateful moment when we breathe our last breath.

These are things Morbid knows. He knows there are things he cannot explain but he is sure of one thing. He is sure that if there is a god, he stopped caring about us a long time ago.

Morbid sits in his office. Life getting better, he has a small apartment on the east side of town that he pays for from what he makes at the church.

Thing is with people like Morbid Angel is they always want more in life. Doing good enough to get by is something that will never suffice. He will want more, to do more, to be more. All he needed was a little lift and now he sees his new calling in life to get him back to where he was. Something so easy anyone can do it.
Prosperity preaching!

Morbid looks across the room at a bookshelf to the Bible that is a fixture in every room inside the church. He knows he must read the book at least once in order to fully comprehend and use the text to his advantage.

Watch out world, Morbid Angel is fucking back!

The scene fades to a Blood Red!

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