Trust~
In~
Sanity~
For it illuminates the road to paradise
Nothing.
Seconds pass.
Stimulation of those constrained senses; a visual, at last.
Flat, shiny walls void of windows, top or bottom trimming, or any other details. Their glossy texture is nearly reflective enough to pass as a mirror of sorts.
Even shinier flooring, also pitch black and reflecting the light from above. The sleek, smooth appearance resembles glass or even liquid but then again there are those of us who know glass is liquid.
A single, long light fixture running across the black ceiling contains a pair of fluorescent bulbs that supply the adequate amount of light in this room.
The panning of the camera to reveal each of the four walls to be identical; not even so much as a door is present in here.
The absence of sense.
The presence of pretense?
The clicking of
The clicking of
The clicking of
Horizontal becomes vertical.
Left becomes down.
Right becomes wrong.
Smile turns to frown.
Air becomes thin.
Bend becomes win.
Love becomes sin.
And we all
fall
down.
{ a quick 50 second score to set an ever pleasant mood;
please do press play and indulge }
War
engraves
peace
E
V
E
R
T
R
U
S
T
—He will go down with the rest of Eli James' team in the ashes of War Games—
—He had to use magic spells to pin Vincent Lane—
—He needs The Crimson Face to help him win—
—He lost to Luca Arzegotti—
—He is a paper champion—
" Different paths of belief bring ever evolving choice; freedom of propulsion on a scale illimitable by the scourged sea of see. "
-The blackness of the room invokes a voice, or are the words echoing from that small device?
The unheard click this time of a play button. The voice recorder sat in the very center of the room on that glistening black shine. Explanations, details, directives—defiance of seen scene leaves us with none a plenty.
" Sometimes it's all in plain black and white but the colors did detract from the stench of the inflatable tongue. I, Evertrust; the mortal being who feels pain and bleeds that sacred serum. I, Evertrust bring no answers when there is but no life form on these flats with the authority to question me. "
" What were those words Azrael Erebus said to me several Earth day cycles ago? I'd lost to Luca Arzegotti. The dearest, beloved alien of the x-treme had no idea what I could have meant when I did address that situation some time ago. But how? How could Evertrust not have "been there" when Luca Arzegotti pinned him so long ago that most living creatures who dwell in this area do not recall? "
" A strike with a foreign object to fell an otherwise lifeless and motionless drone before issuing a cover to proclaim what has since evolved into the 'Heavy Metal Weight Championship' was Azraels claim to defame my name. In layman's terms, Azrael felt confident in his ability to defeat me due to him being able to remember a time in which my empty vessel was pinned for a championship I no longer required. He then went on to ridicule the fact that I had previously explained my absence on that fateful day nobody even recalls; Azrael of all people couldn't comprehend how a being of completely expanded intelligence and ability might be able to exist outside of its human body's confines? Azrael; the very being who traverses time, alters his own persona and likeness at will, and uses the solar system as his personal facilities when his inner waste needs excreting could not fathom the thought that I may not have been 'in the house' even though my body was present. "
" What's shameful above all else is Azrael's failure to bring up how My Crimson Face, much more recently mind you, did possess that same 24/7 championship that is often seen as a mere joke; and My Crimson Face did in fact lose that very championship… and I am, in fact, the mind and master behind everything That Crimson Face does accomplish or enact. If Azrael's only line of offense against me prior to War Games was to highlight my losing of the lowest tier title in this entire spectrum, should he not have realized there was a shining example just months ago rather than over a year ago? "
" What's more, you ask? What's more is Azrael, the supposed manipulator and traveler of space and time, should have been fully aware of what truly did happen when the name Evertrust came up against the name Luca Arzegotti in the only actual match between the two: Luca Arzegotti was put down, and Evertrust… I, Evertrust was awarded victory on a night that saw that entire Monday Madness roster competing in a massive tournament. That was my debut in this X-treme cesspit, and I ran through every competitor in a single night that the XWF could think to put in front of me; Luca Arzegotti included. "
" Do you see what happens, XWF, when you twist and confuse the only facts that truly do matter? Do you see where Azrael is now? Did you see where he was when my arms were clenched around his tiny throat and I helped him release his own senses so that he might be laid to rest by Justin Sane in a peaceful and disciplined manner? As I was putting Azrael to sleep in that sleeper hold, was he perhaps dreaming of a time when his attempt to confuse reality and the past actually succeeded, allowing him to topple the one he has always known was untouchable by his meager enhancements of the fleshed terrestrialist way of life? Congratulations, Azrael; a job well done if I do say so myself. You managed to lead your entire team straight into the same void you had been dwelling in when you thought I took a loss to Luca Arzegotti of all people. I would disintegrate Arzegotti without so much as a bead of perspiration running down my face, and he knows this, because I've already stood over him in victory once before and it was after I ran through an army in the same night—a night in which I had no prior XWF experience to propel me through. When a being such as Azrael who has the ability to somewhat bend or rather annoy time itself fails to even educate himself on his opponent's ability, it screams one thing: laziness. The space rat has grown lazy in his old age and that fact was further highlighted by his inane babblings regarding the name of Justin Sane. "
" What's most fascinating about this situation is none of those who were on his team even understand what had happened. They were sent to the slaughter by way of being embraced by a living creature that was determined to accomplish one thing and one thing only: suicide. In what may have been Azrael's final act on this Earth, he also demonstrated his most selfish quality to date. I hope Steven Kessler is preparing that post-loss speech I told the world he'd be ready to spew after last night was all said and done. I hope Jack has been swiftly bandaged by his kinfolk in their hidden-from-order paradox in which insufficiency booms wonders. I most resoundingly and assuredly hope the Aerial Knight has had those bones tended to after the manhandling he suffered at the mere whim of Ghost Tank's unbridled lack of human compassion. I even hope somewhere, somebody recalls that final name on that team of failures which I'm not even feeling inclined to mention at this time. Hope. Hope with me, XWF. "
" And as if all of that wasn't enough, it's hardly even the tip of Mount Everest. "
" Hello, Eli James. "
" Are you listening? Are you trusting? Can you feel my presence the way you were so keenly receptive to my will just a week ago? Do you trust those senses; even the ones you have sharpened that most of these human bags of filth would never dream of accepting or fine tuning? For it was your higher understanding of our world and beyond which allowed me in, Eli. Every life form on this planet has its own code—its own set of filters and netting—and sometimes, just sometimes there's a being that has managed to cross over into unknowns most people here can't accept. It's why you're hated, Eli. It's why you're ever-loathed. You speak tongues they cannot and will not understand or accept, and you see things they would cast away before accepting as truth even if those truths set them free from ever lasting hell as you may call it. You and I are far from finished, Eli; I have now been the force behind your being stripped of self worth not once but twice, and I want you to know one thing above all else… "
" I'd do it all again. "
" First it was Shades, who by my hand received everything of value that was in your name. Next, it was Theo Pryce who was able to live up to a promise he'd given you long ago; all thanks to me. Tell me, Eli… you're able to sense what's to come and you've been known to communicate with that which is considered almighty: do you see this all happening a third time? Will that Universal Championship, or any symbol of value on this Earth, make its way into your clammy palms only for me to be the reason it is so easily plucked away from you? I don't even want nor do I need that which you've possessed, but the act of seeing how easily I can be the instrument of your loss is enthralling and enticing if nothing else. If I come to understand that you treasure a single blade of grass that you've picked from a field, and you carry that blade of grass with you to an arena where the world is watching, I will rip that blade of grass from your grasp just as swiftly and it will bring me the same sense of satisfaction as I watch somebody else be named its new owner. I will take from you, Eli. I will steal from you and assist those of a more deserving nature or even those who I am simply manipulating as tools for deeds no naked eye can decipher. And why? Why am I the one who takes from you? "
" Because no one else can—not on their own, anyway. "
" I'm here to prove time and time again that I am the answer to every impossibility. I am the cure for any disease that strikes down all those who have attempted to fight before me. The name Eli James has been feared by many and respected by so many others for quite some time, and even though those two words are essentially the same thing, they're simply going to be transformed into a symbol of amusement. A laughing stock you did become by the time I was through with you, Eli, and that's me speaking in future sense because as of right now nobody is laughing at you yet—they're crying for you. They feel bad for you. They see you as that bloodied, gutted rodent that is just being slapped around and played with before it's swallowed whole. The beauty in all of this culminates in your recent challenge to myself, Justin Sane and Theo Pryce. You honestly wish to face the three of us all on your own, and you want the world to believe you wish for the end. That's the first seedling of laughter, my dear deceiver of the mindless. Right now they're still confused by your actions and feeling sorrow when they are reminded of your tribulations, but once they see you play this through it will no doubt be a sea of laughter and mockery that is your final memory on this Earth. "
" Once loved. "
" Once hated. "
" Soon to graduate that final stage of metamorphosis into the monarch of jests. "
" TrustInSanity, Eli. It's all you have left. "
" And as the world turns and stars burn asunder in every way imaginable, a new dawn brings a fresh taste before my appetite. "
" Three names: "
" Michael. "
" Joshua. "
" And The Horseman. "
" Michael; your moniker of 'Venomous' couldn't be farther from any semblance of truth that applies to your state of existence in this line up. I can assure you that your partners this week, Joshua and Horseman, are nowhere near the caliber of warrior or strategist that Morbid Angel or Doctor Louis D'ville are. You know; the two names who were responsible for 'Team Victory' being as prepared as it was and successful as fate did see it after they were given a handicap advantage over Theo Pryce's throwaway wrapper of a team. "
" Joshua; isn't it ironic that you're side by side with Venomous yet again this week? And isn't it troubling that there will be no LH Harrison, no Morbid Angel and no Doctor D'ville this time? Or do you honestly believe your own words when you tell me you're going to walk into this confrontation and make me tap out? You've been trying to re-acquire the championship I possess ever since Lovermind Vincent Lane took it from you by deceiving you into thinking he was a friend to you—you poor, gullible baby—and you've had no luck in those efforts of yours. Now you've gone as far as to announce that you no longer want to be included in the match that will feature myself along with Vincent Lane and John Samuels for this very championship you held so briefly some time ago. You honestly believe you stand a chance in a different title match now—a Television Championship match that sees the other half of TrustInSanity walking in and annihilating you with ease. I can't even be sure what logic you are employing when you consider yourself a possible victor in a match that features Justin Sane, or why you would consider that match to be more important than a match for the second highest championship in this company, but the fact is you are still more than welcome to fail at both! That's right, Maverick. Once you're finished taking that devastating dose of failure in the TV Title match, assuming Justin Sane even allows you to continue breathing, you're more than welcome to walk right into the X-treme Championshp match with myself and those other two ninnyhammers who have no shot in dethroning me. "
" I am the champion, Maverick; I make the calls and I name the dates. If I decree that Vincent Lane and John Samuels wait until you're recovered enough from your adynamic performance on the night Sane humiliates you, they shall wait, and they will like it. Don't show that streak down your back so quickly, Joshua. You're not escaping my wrath that easily. "
" But do you know what really reveals your bottomless abyss of stupidity and ignorance? The fact that you don't even remember this championship I hold is on the line twenty four hours a day. You recently threatened to make me tap out but made no mention of taking this championship in the process. Joshua… Maverick… Ice Man… inadequate sub-male concoction… whatever name or title you choose to go by, you do realize that in a state of existence in which you make me tap out in any match, you would therefore win this X-treme Championship from me, yes? Or has the meaning of 24/7 somehow eluded your tiny little mind? "
" Do it, Maverick. Make me ta… aha ha ha, I can't even finish the sentence. Even you already have conceded that your chances of taking this championship anytime soon are done for. That's why your mind didn't even for one solitary second suggest to your mouth that you should threaten to take this title from me in this trio tag team match we're about to embark on. How pathetic are you that you can spend weeks trying to get my attention; mention me in your War Games promos; attack me multiple times outside of arenas… only to realize as soon as you're booked in an official match with me that you stand no chance in taking what you've been wanting all this time? I'm truly asking, Maverick, just how pathetic is that? Not only will you not make me tap, but you'll stand by idly as I easily put down Venomous to claim the win for my team this week. That's right; I don't even need to try and finish you or The Horseman. Venomous is the one I have chosen, because I want both you and The Horseman to be shown how useless you truly are. "
" Neither of you will stop me. "
" Neither of you will even attempt to save Venomous from what awaits him. "
" And even if you did try, you'd stand no chance against the likes of Gein and Hysteria. They're going to be functioning as a well oiled machine along with myself and the three of you are going to be pillaged so vilely that even the monarch of jests himself—Eli James for those not paying attention—will find reason to laugh neurotically at your imbecility and inability to do anything right. "
" Are you listening, Horseman? As if you're even worth the breath, I'll humor you even the same. I'd suggest you get on that horse of yours and ride… wait, no, that's not right. You don't even ride a horse because that would make too much sense. Call to Cthulhu, the Candyman or any other name you can think of and beg them to kill you before you make the mistake of asking me to dance. Virgil and Evan Strong may have been willing dance partners for you on Madness, but I can assure you a shortened life of ever-regret should you make the mistake of asking me to do the same. Since you are the least established member of the opposing force I am about to quell in just four days, I am most looking forward to your words before Wednesday. I'm afraid you're going to soon discover that your debut match on Madness was nowhere near enough to prepare you to even think or speak my name, let alone oppose it with force. Bring me your head, common dog. I'll play your god for this round, just for you. "
Click.
The end of the tape.
The blackness of the room bleeds into the light. The shine of the walls and floor shrinks as the contrast intensifies and that tiny voice recorder that delivered these words does vanish faster than Maverick, Venomous and The Horseman's chances for survival.
War brought pieces
And those pieces did rot;
For they once made up the false confidence of an unwise three
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