Please Login or Register to get full access to the forums.

Lost Password?
Current time: 02-24-2025, 01:30 PM (time should display as Pacific time zone; please contact Admin if it appears to be wrong)                                                                


X-treme Wrestling Federation » Warfare Boards » Warfare RP Board
Exorcising Evil (Part 2)
Author Message
Unknown Soldier Offline
HAIL SATAN!



XWF FanBase:
(.Awaiting user update)


#1
10-16-2019, 01:41 AM


...Three years ago...

My name is Mark Christian, and I've decided that my life of nocturnal nothingness hiding in the dark with no name or no relevance must become a thing of the past. My existence, up until this point, has been a shadow of doubt and decree as I've simultaneously given my heart and soul to the mindless guidings of Atheism. My parents, devout and prominent followers of the faith, have always shunned me the moment they knew my faith was failing. It continued to progress over time as the downfall became both imminent and swift. It started as a young boy, about the age of eight, when the discovery of supernatural existences such as Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny was nothing but a foolish tool used in a game to trap children and lure them into exercising their exponential need to worship some all-powerful deity that represents and explains the world and reality all around us.

In school, I was taught to open my free mind and let it wander past the potential presciences that portray this pathetic excuse for entrapment. Teachers of science and mathematics bring light to a universe that was created by the means of explanations that seem both plausible and rational. I could not bear to understand or fathom the frequencies to which they described and to what ends; however, what I certainly could do was listen and take in all the teachings and tabulations that were lined up in front of me and discover that different thought processes existed past the simplistic direction my parents and their faith had insisted upon. As much as they had lured me into this way of thinking, I was able to springboard myself out beyond this prison of this pretentiousness and coagulate my cognitive thoughts out into a cohesive world of creation that both made sense to me and the majority of the free thinkers I had surrounded myself at school.

It was a slow decline, as my parents kept pushing and pushing me to pursue the same life that they had bought me into upon my birth, but it seemed as if the more they persuaded the more and more distant my desire was to engage in kneeling before an immortal creator from some fantasy storybook written eons ago. I was really no different from many other children, resisting the predisposed premonitions that my parents had prescribed for me. It was a natural occurrence, I believe, among most kids to fight to be different and at odds with their parents in order to explore and discover their free thought and will amongst themselves. After all, if we are nothing but an exact clone of our creators, then are we not anything more than a line of servants or soldiers to a brainwashed cause far out of the reach of anyone's control?

I believe this is the thinking of dictators. Cult leaders such as Adolph Hitler and Jim Jones who want the world to fall in line with their way of thinking, and for those that refuse are removed from it. Was this same religion nothing but a copy of a cult? Was I being indoctrinated into this same ignorant line of irregularity and forced to now bite the hand that feeds me? I fear not, for I have constantly been a loner and have always been indulging myself in my own self-consciousness. I was always very self-sufficient in both my financial capabilities and mental stability; however, I have to admit that my ever feeling of loneliness has driven me to question my purpose. Although I relished in my loner lifestyle, I felt the sudden want and desire to seek out some sort of path of perseverance in this reality.

I could no longer hide and mask my multitude of misgivings, as in the back of my mind they kept feeding and turning my feelings into a pile of mush as my ever beating heart lingered as it beat profusely in the hopes of conjoining with the blood of my brethren. It had eaten its way down into the inner core of my soul and festered like a tapeworm both tearing and gnawing at the sanctity of my sanity. I knew at this point in my life, after graduating high school, that I had to come to a decision that I neither wanted to face nor thought that I could bring myself to. The time that is now was dreaded for seconds upon minutes upon hours upon days upon years, and yet I knew what my ultimate decision was going to be.

I could not take my own life, for in some embedded subconscious that I must have learned many years ago in Sunday school, that my soul would somehow burn in the ever-gloving fires for all of eternity. Whether hell was an actual paragon of existence, or whether it was a figment of my imagination, the one thing that I was certain was that an afterlife of eternal suffering absolutely existed if I were to commit suicide and end it. I most certainly had to give in to their fairy tale and accept that my only purpose in life is to fulfill their ultimate plan to preserve my once wandering soul. My parents exuded a plethora of patience and understanding when I finally fell to my knees and pleaded for a chance to make them proud of me for the first time in my life. He will never forget, but he will always forgive. This is the line of dialogue they kept feeding me throughout the elongation of my plea to them.

I must admit that it was a very soothing and relieving notion to realize that I would be allowed to still walk and hold hands with them and dance and sing in the glory of the good lord. Their hands now touched me, praying silently to themselves and encouraging me to engage with them. As I joined them, it was if a symphony of angels had come down from the dark clouds hovering over my head and graciously screamed hallelujah! I could feel the energy pulsating through the veins in my blood and glow off the tips of my fingers and toes as it exploded from its initial source which was my heart.

My voice, a faint whisper to my ears just moments before their hands clenched the tops of my heads and edges of my shoulder blades. Now, it had risen in both tone and emphasis and was blaring as if an orchestra was being conducted inside the roof of my mouth. It had risen, without me personally making any engagement of my larynx and throat muscles to do so. It was almost as if my whispering voice had been lifted by the sanctimonious situation that had just taken place. Their hands now wandering and griping tighter with every moment of bliss that was capitulating my carcass. Touching not only the anatomy of my exterior but also pressing itself deeply into my spirit.


[Image: latest?cb=20070212163715]

That moment was not only life-changing but quite possibly the most invigorating thing that I had ever felt. It was similar to the first time I figured out how to climax myself of my own accord, yet still veiled in comparison. I had accepted my parents' faith, and now I was to become the most esteemed candidate at the Christian academy for which they were seeking my attendance. I finally had a purpose. I finally had a sense of well being. I finally was able to forgive myself. But now, where would this trailing light of everlasting glow and glory lead me into my future? My path now was on a predisposed road and controlled by the church and its grasp on my growth as a man in a new world where I was just becoming an adult. I conceived to my parents and promised them that I would see the light from now until forevermore.

I would never admit to them or anyone else, but only to myself, that this twisted transition scared the be-Jesus out of me and that the full clarity of my constitution I gave to them was probably never going to come to complete fruition. At the time, I thought it was possible for me to become a part of this whole universe wrapped in faith, but somehow in the back of my mind knew that one day I would push it back away with even more force and abomination then before. At least I could use it as an escape and excuse for the time being and help rectify the feelings of guilt and loneliness that had once filled my thoughts. I was a torn mess of myself, and sometimes wondered if I did not, in fact, suffer from some sort of mental abnormality such as being a bi-polar or quite possibly it could be a minor form of schizophrenia.

I say to them my goodbyes, as the second of that internal clock to this inevitable ending that I had always known was coming that had been ticking finally came to its final tock. They greet me on the front porch in the only place I had called home my entire life to send me off on my expedition into the extraordinary. My mother, crying into her silk woven handkerchief with the sign of the cross knitted in its center. Crying and capitulating my departure despite both she and everyone knowing it was warranted and inevitable. My father, on the other hand, carrying my bags and caressing my shoulder, had the largest of smiles tilted upwards upon his face. Although he was never much of a father in the sense of the way I would have liked him to be; he was, nonetheless, the blood of my birth.

I stared into my mother's eyes, as she fought back endless streams of tears, and I saw deep behind those soft and subtle irises the happy and wholesome feeling that lay buried deep within her essence. Deep down inside their somewhere was someone wanting to protect me and keep me sheltered from this potential world of wonder and bewilderment. Somewhere behind those voluptuous blue eyes lay the inexorable desire to do her motherly duties and safeguard my departure from her sight and cradle me like a babe once again. If only I could turn back the hands of time on that inevitable clock and go back to sucking on her sweet nipples and laughing and giggling with glee and not have a single care in the world, I most certainly would. To reset my brain and redo all the warped illusions that have brought me into the predicament that has now been placed before me.

That feeling of being torn between two worlds and two minds, and my possible split personality, now pass through my thoughts once again. Was this a hereditary trait passed on down by my mother, or was this simply a delusion of some divine source that kept me crawling further and further away from the safety of my mother's arms. Now, wrapping around me and hugging me with a massive amount of strength that I never knew my mother to possibly possess. Her tears now leak down her face and graze across the skin of my left cheek. They are both warm and welcoming as a sincere showing of her unlimited and insurmountable love that she indeed has for me.

Her lips and her body now quivering and trembling despite the warm summer's evening, reach up and touch my right cheek as her wet lips and touch my skin quickly and release themselves back away from my face. She can no longer bear or keep her wits about her any longer and runs back into the house crying and weeping so hard as if you were to thought she had lost me forever, and maybe she knew something that I didn't and this was indeed that abhorrent scenario playing out before her very eyes.

My father now turns me around and slaps the hollow divot in the center of my back as some type of encouraging love tap to let me be assured that everything was going to be alright. Unlike my mother whose gaze was directed deeply at my own self, his eyes stare off deeper into the distance looking out for the black limousine that was slowly trailing its way towards us from off in the distance. Creeping back and forth along a winding road, kicking up dust and progressing its way closer and closer to us. My heart nearly stops at the first sight of it, and once again I keep thinking back to that internal clock as inside my head I can hear that final stroke of that second hand coming to a complete stop at the last second and striking at midnight.

Bells are sounding and banging and clanging loudly subliminally in my mind as if in some deep recesses buried somewhere profoundly I can remember them calling me to church school every Sunday afternoon when I was a little boy. I turn to my father once again, that same smile looking a lot less happy and a bit more wicked this time, as he nods his head up and down and waves the black limousine into our driveway. As the black limousine stops and parks, a rush of wind goes sliding past my face as a sudden breeze has picked up from somewhere off in the distance.

My father immediately makes for the trunk in the back of the car, and almost before it can open starts loading my pieces of luggage inside of it. Could he be rid of me any faster? What trepidation it must have been for him for the many years that I sat denouncing his faith. The rear passenger side door opens, and out steps a very tall and large man dressed in full priests garb. His white collar sticks out leering over his shoulders as he stands confidently over the top of me. I can do nothing but submit to his enormous size and stature towering over me. His white beard, thick and well-trimmed, runs just past his collar and isn't incredibly long but it is most certainly thick.

I knew from the very first moment that I met him that I loved him more than my father, as he bent down to look directly into my eyes and pulled his hand beneath my chin and started stroking it as he starts to bless me with the sign of the father, the son, and the holy spirit. I close my eyes accepting his cold and clammy hands as his warming voice emancipates the holy trinity in both a soothing and calm demeanor. He speaks and says to me something that I will never forget to this day.


Father O'Malley -- "Give yourself to god my good boy, and he will walk with you for all eternity."

[Image: darkness.jpg]

UNKNOWN SOLDIER

"I guess no matter how obviously obnoxious you put something that Chris Page will still never be able to pick up on it. I guess he didn't get the metaphor I was making to him within my latest promo with pulling my cards with his most recent rambling out of a top hat and pulling random ideas and thoughts out of my ass just like he does in his promos time and time again when he wants to talk about me. Every time you watch one of those things and listen to him talk it's obviously just a big scatterbrained fucking mess of shit that flies off the top of his head. Don't you get it dip shit, THAT'S THE FUCKING ANALOGY I WAS TRYING TO MAKE TO YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE! I know we've already touched on all those fucking subjects numerous times and you a lot more than necessary. That was the point of my entire shortened speech last time, fuck SATAN! sake!

My promos are a direct response to you? Well yeah, numbnuts, that's how this works you fucking fruit bag! I guess he would rather I just ramble on about my previous victory over drezdin or the numerous victories and meaningless things that have taken place in my past. Should I instead give an update on the XWF with a snippet of everything that's going on all over the place like an episode of Sportscenter? I mean, who does he think I am? Peter Gilmour!

...HIGH FIVE...

Oh, wait, that little joke and moniker is something I made in my first promo that you are now incorporating into yours and acting out upon. If I say jump, then how high will you reach upwards to high five someones after every Peter Gilmour joke you make? The sad part is that he's high fiving an invisible nobody because he's the only one who actually thinks the joke is funny. Instead, he should be slapping himself across the face because in all actuality he's making himself look even more stupid then Peter. Next thing you know in his next promo he'll be slapping hands with Adam Barker or something to try and prove a point that it's funny. Leap Page! LEAP!

(10-10-2019, 11:57 PM)Unknown Soldier Said: You're nothing but the stereotypical sack of shit that can't find anything better to do than throw a Peter Gilmour insulting joke in every single one of his promos so that he'll get a high five from the last guy that did it the day before as you chuckle like a couple of chums telling a bunch of knock-knock jokes back and forth to one another!

But, wait a minute everyone? Is he doing that whole high five ordeals as a direct response to something I said in one of my promos, you a fucking hypocrite? HOW FUCKING DARE YOU talk about something that your opponent said! When you make reference to me making fun of your marijuana use, and then you say something about all my promos are filled with shock value, rape, and baby killing. How about that Bill Nye joke of yours too? Wow, is that not a response to something I said and did too? Weird huh? Is that not the same fucking thing, you happy little hypocritical hag bag! You want to tell me about all the slings and insults I've given you lately and that you've already heard them from everyone else.

Well, I'm still waiting for you to say something that I didn't already hear coming out of Robert Main's mouth, and that includes the aspects of your promos. I mean, didn't Robert Main already go into a church and do some stupid promo pretending that you were Satan and he was seeing it in is own perception. So now I have to sit through and watch that same scenario play out again?

It's ironic that he picks up on the Peter Gilmour jokes but can't manage to see a match stipulation laid out in front of his very eyes. Oh yeah, he was just trolling us all remember. No, that's not called being a troll. That's called talking out of two sides of your mouth when you realized you're just being an idiot. Just like he's done his entire career and then falls back on this excuse. Yeah, I had that planned the whole time he says... Give me a break...

If he would have at least said he missed something or had a little bit of honesty to himself then maybe people wouldn't think he's a stupid as he seems. We all say some things that are a little off our rocker sometimes, but this shit head won't dare fucking admit it! Sounds like something Donald Trump does when he's trying to backpedal some of the statements he makes.

Oh right, he wants to say that I'm 'copying' him by pulling out Donald Trump jokes to try and get heat and attention. Well, apparently he hasn't watched any late-night talk shows or seen any stand-up comedian acts in the past three years.

What's this he's rambling on about me with his inner thoughts and how I can hear them? Never once did I make any mention of this type of thing, because quite frankly I've heard enough of what comes out of his mouth that there's no fucking way in hell I would want to crawl up into that cranium of his and want to see what kind of stupidity runs rampant up there. Shane called you out for making that statement in your inner thoughts, not me! But I guess we're essentially the same person, is that right?

I mean, the only reason I'm any good is that he's been around giving me the leverage in all my matches for the past seven years? He's secretly been helping me win this entire time despite being nowhere in sight for the majority of my stay here. I claimed that briefcase under Vinnie Lane's reign when I was at the time the current longest-reigning Xtreme Champion in history before Engy came along and toppled that feat. If Shane were puppeteering my entire career, then don't you think my first Universal title reign would have been a little bit earlier then now? You know, when he was the owner!

It's ironic that you would say things like this when the only whiff of success you've ever had in the XWF is when you could get close enough to Tristan Slater's ass and hold his World Championship title while he was on the shitter. Shocking how that goon of yours title reign only took place under Miyoko Kawashima's tenure as Warfare general manager? You know, the chic Tristan Slater was banging at the time. Talk about fucking nepotism! I mean, that's even more alarming and disgraceful then anything Shane has ever done to help Unknown Soldier if you ask me. Shane is so stupid and 'high on life' that he couldn't even remember who sucked his dick or licked his crack to get ahead anyway!

When he told us all that he didn't believe that he could fall into a hole from hell when he was pissing on Anton LaVey's literature and then goes scampering off into one in his most recent promo in search of his new boyfriend Robert Main like he's some kind of Alice in Wonderland, does that sound like an elaborate troll or a fucking troglodyte? It's too bad he didn't tell us all at the beginning of all this that he was going to be ignoring and missing things that I say and do, because then he'd have an obvious and warranted excuse for looking like a fucking ."


[Image: MGncwBi.jpg]

XWF Record
56 - 20 - 1

1 (X) Universal Champion
4 (X) Xtreme Champion
1 (X) Tag Team Champion (w/ Doctor Louis D'ville)
1 (X) Anarchy Champion
2 (X) Superstar of the Month
Hall of Legends member inducted 9/27/20 at Relentless

Edit Hate Post Like Post
[-] The following 3 users Like Unknown Soldier's post:
Peter Fn Gilmour (10-16-2019), Theo Pryce (10-23-2019), Thunder Knuckles™ (10-16-2019)




Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)