Threaded Mode | Linear Mode

Cain · **03-24-2015, 03:32 PM**

Cain wasn't shaken one bit by the fact that Kirk MacClay had admonished him. No, it wasn't that at all because not only was he the man that death forgot, but he was the man that fear was afraid of. Don't try to understand our logic concerning Cain, who was beyond normal logic.

Here was a man who had been shot at least seventeen times, yet he survived. Here was a man who was legendary as a murderer due to the fact that he had never been caught. He'd fallen off skyscrapers, been stabbed fifty times, electrocuted, poisoned, and even fought with a broken neck.

Still, nothing could destroy him. He was as invincible as frightening. So frightening that when he was a teen in high school, the bullies actively avoided his wrath, as they knew of his reputation. His reputation? He was a stone cold killer, at least in public.

This however was not public. This was at his home in Tombstone, Arizona, a palace like mansion with over seventy rooms. He had a staff of about twenty five housekeepers to maintain his estate and it is rumoured that each and every one of them worked for free. Why? Much like the legend of Vlad Tspesh, is was all about fear and respect. One housekeeper had witnessed Cain feed a yard worker his best friend's severed penis. The yardworker was punished for touching a six year old. Inappropriately.

This is the type of man, and superstar Cain was. His gated estate was opened once a year on his birthday.

Halloween. The day of the dead, when Cain celebrates his many victims' lives as if they were accomplishments for him.

Cain saw that his estate was good as he stared out over the freshly cut grass, admiring the dogwood trees from his balcony. He drew in a deep breath of that fresh spring air and smiled, sliding his arm around Athena's waist.

"Hail to the King, baby."

Attie KNEW what Cain was all about. She KNEW he'd murdered the hooker, and she had bathed in the girl's blood. She laid her head on his shoulder and crossed her arms, scratching her arm with her painted black nails. Her breasts pressed together would be distracting for any man, but Cain wasn't any man.

Attie smiled.

"Penny for yer thoughts, love?"

Cain answered simply with two words.

"Hart Championship."

"Of course. Ya have a huge match ahead of ya though. Guy ain't no slouch."

Cain simply smirked. He knew exactly what he was in for, and had no doubt in his heart whatsoever. However, he hadn't addressed his opponent today. He'd of course been busy, having sex with the British bombshell, his Gothic queen, Athena Massey.

He suddenly kissed her softly on her lips.

"Please excuse me, my dear. I must make a trip down to the basement and address this fool."

She kissed back and smiled.

"Very well, my darling. Give 'im hell!"

As Cain headed off toward the basement, you couldn't wipe the grin off of his face. He didn't even stop smiling as he turned the camera on and began speaking, his words venomous.

"Oh Vincent..."

"I'm so sorry you did not enjoy my little gift. I thought an arrogant fool such as yourself would love having the world Emailing you. Only about 2.5 thousand emails though? Wow, you speak as if your fanbase is global. I know just this morning alone, I've received at least a million emails. Now, most of it is hate mail but it just goes to show you who the TRUE star of the show is."

"You see Vincent, there are two things that mankind loves to see on their TV, and those things are the oldest things on Earth. Sex and death equal ratings. They don't want some washed up Warrant want-to-be worshiping the ground a painted up whore walks on every week."

"I'll let you decide which is which."

"No, young Mister Lane, they want me. They want evil incarnate himself, walking down that aisle every night. They want the beast who makes Damien sit and wonder "wow, how can I be like him?' They want the beast that a mere man like Brock Lesnar wouldn't dream of actually going face to face with. They want me, Vincent. Not you, a man who has no immortality. No staying power. No invincibility."

"This is WHY I question your place in this company. After all, guys like yourself are a dime for a dozen what with your one great success and then? Then along comes something bigger, and like the song "Rock of Ages", your star burns out. No, I've not forgotten your other acheivments. What I am referring to is the fact that right now, you are on fire. You are having a great run. Teenaged girls and gay cross dressers being your demographic, you are like a gay John Cena!"

"Shit man! That's fucking awesome!"

"Or not..."

"It's probably wearing on your mind, as you obviously grew up and watched your favorite bands put out that one great song then fade into obscurity. You are no different. Can't you see? This run is your last great run because whether they know it or not, these fleshbags want me. They want me to stand atop your broken carcass and snap the buttons on the Hart Title at my waist. Just imagine the glimmer of that gold, Vinnie! And..."

He smirked.

"...I find it amusing how you would mention "the boss'" admonishment of my recent actions. It's funny that you should say that the "big bad wolf" got "swatted on the nose with a newspaper" so he needs to "cry in a corner." Your words, not mine. Well, I paraphrased you, because quite frankly every second I listen to you I feel my IQ dropping. You are the reason the term "dumb blonde" was coined and what's sad is, you're probably one of those fake blondes."

"Chemicals do eat living tissue though, and your brain is an organism. Therefore, maybe it's not your fault that you are stupid. Maybe it's not your fault that you don't know better than to step out into the hurricane naked and let the gale force winds rip you to shreds."

"Here I am Vinnie, and I quote "rock you like a hurricane." You know, that's an interesting song with an apt meaning as it pertains to our relationship. I think you should look deep within yourself and ask if it's really the best idea to seemingly undermine and underestimate me at every turn? I mean, you're not exactly the first person to do so and look where it got them. You know what? You can't. They seem to have disappeared."

"Since you have been on the subject of people you've beaten that I supposedly couldn't, let me touch on it as well. Aidan Blizzard Collins? I beat him. YOU couldn't even beat him with Pest's assistance. Justin Sane? I beat him. You couldn't. Plus you've been beaten by more losers than I have been beaten by legends, therefore your point about LH Harrison is rendered invalid. Try again fuckwad. At least I've never been pinned by Calypso. I mean, come on...CALYPSO!"

"Some really ARE created more equal than others, are they not? I spoke of being the perfect predator, and as you always do you tried to turn it around on me. You talked about an old horse being sent to the glue factory, but I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I'm not an old horse. I'm a well hung, ass kicking, throat ripping, underage ass gettin', thoroughbred. I have never trained a day in my life because there was never any need. I was born unto the human race to destroy it. You were born unto the human race to make it look weak. I may be a human, but the darkness in my soul makes me the most powerful human on Earth. Fact."

"Humans are animals. Fact."

"There is a food chain. Fact."

"Cain Arkham is at the top of the food chain. Fact."

"It would appear that you suffer from the same affliction as all of my other opponents. You all say the same exact thing every time you see a camera and I am your opponent. You talk about how you are going to beat me and you say that I simply CAN'T beat you."

"Can't, Vincent. Can't never could do anything, so let me tell you exactly what I can do. I can make you feel a pain the likes you have never felt before. I can break your bones with the flick of my wrist. I can suplex you you straight out of the ring and make you land head first on a concrete floor. I can fuck your girlfriend and turn her to the dark side. I can take a shit standing up and still have a clean ass. But most of all, Vincent...

The camera slowly zoomed in onto the serious look of Cain's. If you looked closely, you would observe the newfound fire burning in his eyes but if you stared too long you felt as if your soul was being dragged into hell.

"...I can beat you. I will beat you."

"So it is written."

-Static-

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Cain - Rock You Like A Hurricane
Author	Message