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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » Lethal Lottery 3
Dim Is a Cock Sucking <img src="https://i.imgur.com/pUgtAVa.gif">: RP 4
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Sebastian Duke Offline
Registered but either hasn't added self to a roster yet or doesn't RP


XWF FanBase:
Very random
(heel alignment but liked by many; has earned respect despite breaking the rules often)
 (Where is my roster page?)
Joined: Tue Jan 01 2013
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#1
03-26-2015, 04:59 PM



Two Weeks Ago


He sits in a steel folding chair in a dark room with cinder block walls. A trickle of blood rolls out of his mouth and drips upon his flight suit. A lone light, hanging above, illuminates the young blonde headed Prince of the controlling regime of Germany. With his hands secured by handcuffs, the young man can only look try and wipe his chin on his flight suit.

”Shall we start again, Mister Defense Minister?” asks a smallish man wearing a suit and tie in his best English.

”You can ask me whatever you want, sir. Yet my non-existent answers will remain the same,” replies the defiant youngster.

”Son, you are no more than fifteen years of age..”

”Seventeen,” Thaddeus interrupts.

”And your grandfather is the German Chancellor?” replies the smug little man with a look of disbelief.

”And my father will kill you for spilling my blood,” replies Thaddeus, continuing his defiant nature.

”Right, right. The professional wrestler,” the smug man laughs.

”Where is Major Wilhelm?” Thaddeus asks of the Polish intelligence official.

”I'm sorry. I must apologize,” he says as he looks down at his clipboard. ”I'm not aware of any Major Wilhelm here in Poland,” concludes the official.

”I may have been born a couple of years ago but it wasn't yesterday,” Thaddeus says, almost laughing at the absurdity of his statement. ”Major Wilhelm is my second in command! He was here with me!”




Sebastian Duke steers his new rig through the back woods of Poland, trying to track down his son. Moving slowly under the cover of darkness, they found the plane wreckage about an hour ago. Jacob, the ever faithful servant of His Highness, was in contact immediately with Matthew.

”Matthew, have you located the wreckage on satellite?” asks the King through his vehicles on board telecommunications link to Illuminatus headquarters in Berlin.

”My apologies your Highness. There was a problem getting the satellite communications to respond. I have discovered the wreckage and I'm following their course as we speak,” Matthew replies quickly.

”This is like some Knight Rider shit. It's totally awesome,” Jacob says enthusiastically.

”Forgive me if I don't share in your excitement. You know, my son being in grave danger and all,” the King says before being interrupted by Matthews voice.

”It looks like Prince Thaddeus and Major Wilhelm were headed due west while carrying another man. Judging by the uniform in the images, it looks to be a Polish pilot,” his voice trails at the end, immediately sending up warning signals to the King.

”What is it?” demands the King.

”Uhhh, if they continued on the course they were on, they were about to head straight into the lions den,” Matthew replies with some trepidation plainly evident.

”Lions den? What the fuck does that even mean?” asks Duke, increasingly irritated.

”Five miles west of your current location is a military installation. It is possible Prince Thaddeus used the Polish pilot as a bargaining chip. He might have traded the pilot for safe passage, but I doubt it.”

”Why do you doubt it?”

”I'm viewing a satellite image of the installation and the sign at the gate, roughly translated, is telling me its some sort of military intelligence base,” Matthew explains.

The King and his right hand look at each other blankly.

”It's not likely they'd want to trade. If anything, they've probably captured both the Prince and Major Wilhelm,” he reiterates.

”Well... aren't you just full of good news?” Sebastian says sarcastically.

”Did you want the truth? Or do you want false hope and lies?” Matthew asks with no sarcasm whatsoever.

Sebastian guns the throttle and the beefed up super truck lurches forward...




”Seems to me, you're more of a dilettante, than an actual defense minister,” says the Polish intelligence official. He stares at Thaddeus who looks puzzled, ”it means you have little knowledge of the field you're in, but not a whole lot. Basically, you're in over your head.”

”That's where you're wrong, sir. It is not me that is in over my head. In fact, it is you. You have me here, knowing my plane was shot down by one of your planes. Knowing my father, my grandfather and the entire controlling power of Germany will be looking for me. Knowing that my father will stop at nothing to save me,” he hesitates and begins to smile, ”you haven't the slightest clue what you're up against. I'm the heir to my fathers throne and as such, I am more important to him than anyone of you.

“Do you not understand, sir? You hold what he dears most. If you think he himself won't come for me, then you are dead wrong. If you think it will be a civil meeting, then you are again, dead wrong. If you think he won't crush you all like the maggots you are, then you are continuing to be dead wrong.

“He will come here. He will save me from this hell hole, and you will all suffer,” concludes the Prince, grinning through his bloody mouth. ”No more talk until you tell me where Major Wilhelm is.”

”I regret to have to inform you like this, but your friend didn't make it. He died of his injuries sustained in the crash,” replies the officer coldly.

”That's impossible,” starts the Prince, looking confused. ”He merely cracked his head. He was fine...”

”He suffered a fractured skull. He passed out not long after we captured you,” says the official as he stands up. ”I'll leave you to your thoughts.” The official makes his way to the door then stops just before exiting. ”You said your father will come for you. Perhaps, that is exactly what I want, young Prince of something or other.”

The mans look turns a bit more serious as alarm sirens start sounding off all over the building.

”You know how they say you should be careful what you wish for because you might get it?” Thaddeus says with a wry smile. ”I do believe you're about to get it,” the teenaged Prince laughs almost hysterically as he says it.

The Polish official swats Thaddeus in the side of his head and the chair topple over, dumping the young Prince to the floor. Still laughing, ”you're all about to die!”

”Stupid boy.”

The Pol slams the door shut behind him...




The firing begins from the guard towers toward the beastly American automobile accelerating toward their gates. The guards on duty at Poland's western most military intelligence installation can only continue to fire upon the approaching vehicle as it and its occupants continue to ignore their warnings to stop their advance. Unfortunately for the Polish guards, their bullets seem to just bounce off the big truck with a 'thud' sound rather than the 'ting' of metal striking metal.

Sebastian Duke brings the truck to a stop and engages the bed hidden rocket launcher. The firing begins to slow up as the Polish guards feel that maybe they struck the driver. A guard closes in and realizes he staring down the barrel of a fifty caliber machine gun. Inside the cab, Jacob hits the 'FIRE' button and the guards go running for cover. Duke works the controls of the rocket launcher and fires a rocket, obliterating the guard tower.

Most of the guards, trained in security, not military, run for cover as Duke accelerates the truck and crashes through the front gates. Jacob jumps into the back of the cab and lifts the bench seat up and hands his King an AK-47 and a Glock with an extended clip. The duo exits the cab and proceed quickly but cautiously. A guard pokes his head over a ledge on the roof and Duke picks him off with ease. Within a few seconds, Sebastian Duke and Jacob enter the building.

”Thaddeus!” yells the King as he proceeds down the hallways. Nothing and no one answers him. He and Jacob round a corner and a man is seen ducking behind a bank of computer screens. ”I'm looking for Thaddeus Duke. I know he's here!”

The man pokes his head up from behind the computer bank.

”Do you speak English!?” shouts the King to the little man in a suit and tie.

The man shakes his head vigorously to the negative, then quickly throws a computer monitor at Duke before retreating. The monitor hits Sebastian in the face as the King fires off a round, hitting the wall rather than his target. Sebastian and Jacob rush around a corner just in time to watch a door click shut. The King and his right hand rush to flank the door on both sides.

”Thaddeus! Are you in here!?”

Muffled yells come from behind the door. Sebastian places his hand on the knob, readying himself to enter when Jacob stops him.

”We don't even know for sure that he's here,” whispers Jacob.

”He's here,” Sebastian replies.

”How can yo be so sure?” the Messenger asks of his leader.

”He's my son. I just feel his presence.”

Without another word, Sebastian barges through the door. Standing in the corner with a gun pointed to Thaddeus' head is the little man in the suit and tie.

”Let him go, and we'll let you live,” orders the King.

”Finally we meet, Mister Duke. Your legend precedes you.”

”Drop your weapon,” orders the King of Darkness.

”I beg your pardon, sir, but you are not the one calling the shots here. One wrong move and you'll be taking what's left of your sons brain home in a specimen bag,” replies the Polish intelligence officer.

”I don't take threats to my sons life very kindly. That's your only warning. Drop your weapon and live, or continue threatening Thaddeus' life and die.”

”Please, Mister Duke. Drop your weapons. I only wish to leave without another bullet fired. However I can not guarantee that until you drop your guns, sir.”

”Are you hurt?” the King asks, directing his attention to his son.

”Nothing I can't live with,” the Prince replies.

Sebastian Duke puts his palms up with his Glock dangling from his index finger, then drops it and his AK to the floor. For good measure he swipes at them with his boot, kicking them toward the center of the room. He then point his palms toward the Pol and smiles.

”What is there to smile about Mister Duke? War is being waged between our nations. There is nothing to smile about.”

”Remember when I said he'd kill you?” Thaddeus asks of his captor.

The man looks at Thaddeus then his eyes go wide and he drops the pistol to the floor. The King of Darkness has obviously found a way to fire his spring loaded daggers as one is now lodged in the Polish mans throat. Blood squirts from the mans neck as he falls to his knees and grasps the dagger.

”I told you so,” Thaddeus says while smiling at the Polish officer.

The man hits the floor as he chokes on his own blood spilling into his lungs during his final breaths.

”Let's get the hell out of here,” says the King as he watches the Polish man draw his final blood filled breath.

”What the hell took so long? I was getting bored,” jokes the Prince as he playfully elbows his father in the side.

”How 'bout you don't get shot down anymore,” the King jokes back.

The trio exits the building with some hesitation, not knowing whether the guards would have regrouped by now or if they've given up altogether. To their surprise, the place was deserted. Cautiously they approach the truck and enter. Once inside, Jacob connects with the Chancellor's office.

”Yes, son?” answers Asmodeus.

”Grandfather!” Thaddeus shouts.

”Thaddeus!” yells Asmodeus followed by a deep sigh of relief ”thank the heavens.”

”Nah, just thank my father,” jokes the young Prince.

”Touche, my Prince. Touche.”

”All things considered, the air campaign was an overwhelming success. Could you relay my orders to the military?”

”I could son, but wouldn't you rather do it?”

”Truthfully I'm pretty damn exhausted,” replies the Prince.

”I can certainly understand that. What are your orders?”

”My orders are to commence the full scale invasion at dawn. We won't be taking any prisoners. Shoot to kill. Crush the mother fuckers.”

”As you wish, my son. Rest easy.”

The line goes dead. Sebastian puts the truck in gear and begins the short yet dangerous mission of getting back across the border into Germany undetected.


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