Threaded Mode | Linear Mode

Zane Norrison · (05-07-2020)

"Michael Graves, tomorrow night we're set to meet and partake in a leather strap match. For some weird reason, I can't shake this feeling like we should be wielding switchblade knives. Oh, I know why... cause this is exactly like a 1960's knife fight, except instead of a bandanna tied around our wrists, it's a leather strap connecting us and we have to slap ring posts, over using knives. Haha! Okay... Vinnie, hope you were really high or something when you came up with this concept cause it's... I am not going to say what my brain is telling me to say. Nope. I'm not gonna do it. Instead, I'll talk about my opponent, Michael Graves."

"What's up Gravy. Mad respect for ya, by the way. I may not always see eye to eye with you but deep, down inside, I have real admiration for all the dedication and hard work that you put into this company. You're a legend, man. Fuck. When I first started wrestling, I never thought I'd get to face a man of your caliber and now, here I am. Wow. I gotta say it's an honor. A real, true honor to get to share the ring, with a man of your skill. That being said, this admiration that I feel, it's not going to stop me from tearing you to shreds, come the next edition of Thursday Night Anarchy."

"Hey, if I rip your arm off... you know the one attached to me by a leather strap, do you think you'll die before or after my victory? Oh my god, I could be your very last opponent. Isn't that fantastic? I promise, I will give a very tasteful speech at your wake and I won't at all mention, how I was the one that sent Graves to the grave. Or bring up how ironic it is that a zombie, tore through Graves, just like one always does in the movies. Seriously, what grave ever bested a zombie and kept it from rising? This is the natural order of things. Zombies always erupt through and destroy Graves. Even if I happen to be an evolved kind of zombie. You can't disrupt the balance."

"You might be a legend but you know what they say about legends? They grow old and... die. Do you know what they say about zombies? We're the living dead. We never die. Cause we're already dead! That means I don't have to worry about getting tired or groggy. I have endless stamina and no matter how many times you put me down, I will rise up. You on the other hand, are an elderly gentleman, correct? Which means, your heart, back, knees and various other organs are susceptible to injury and may even give out on you or up and fail completely. "

"Meanwhile, I don't have to worry about that. Ever. I had my head detached from my body and look at me now. Still rockin', fucking and fighting, same as before it happened. Do you think the same would work for you? Should we test that theory out?"

"Just kidding."

"Or am I?"

"Vinnie Lane does love high ranking ratings and nothing puts those asses in the seats more, than a little bloodshed and gore. And when I'm in the ring, he encourages me to unleash that inner demon that I fight with every day to control. The one that would rip you apart, in half the time it takes a beat of your tired heart. Tell me Michael, in your entire career, have you ever wrestled an actual undead abomination? Cause tomorrow night, you will."

"Tomorrow night, I will send Graves to the grave."

"Where you can rest in pieces."

Mick Ashcroft and I stand inside the kitchen of Headhunters. After allowing ourselves access to the place via the back entrance and a quick search of the entire nightclub, we found it to be completely empty. Strange. We both heard the woman scream and seen her get dragged inside the establishment. So what could have happened in the short time it takes a zombie and a vampire to make their way inside? But that's when we heard it. Moans. Groans. And sad, desperate wails of torment. From somewhere down below.

"Bollocks! I should have sniffed this out before but with the scent of human, all over this bloody kitchen, it masked the scent. I can pinpoint it now though."

Slowly Mick walks around the kitchen, meticulously examining the floor and finally stops, near an area that leads off to a small alcove, that seems like a pantry meant for spices, condiments and such. With a smirk, he looks down at a rug, that he promptly throws aside. Only to reveal a door in the floor. Slightly similar to the one in Evil Dead but something tells me, we won't be finding the Necronomicon or a Kandarian dagger, on the other side of it. Both Mick and I, exchange a quick glance, our expressions grim and then, Mick opens the door. Exposing a staircase leading downward. Without a word, Mick takes the lead and descends down the stairs, with me following close behind. Mick reaches the bottom and by the sound of his reaction, I know he must be witnessing something beyond horrible.

Within the matter of mere moments, I am exposed to it as well. All around us there are cages with humans... living, breathing humans, trapped inside. All adults but just the same, it is a nightmare incarnate. It is in that exact instant, I hear a baby cry out and instinctively, I surge forward, making my way past a plastic curtain into another section, deeper within the hellish confines of the basement. What lies before me, makes me tremble and loathe the very thing, that I am. For this is where they keep the children and the chorus of screams that instantly echo around me, means they recognize the monster before them upon sight, alone. But I am not really a monster... am I?

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Discovery of Darkness
Author	Message