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Corey Smith Offline
Active in XWF



XWF FanBase:
Some of everyone

(cheered; very rarely plays dirty but isn't lame either; many likable qualities)


#1
10-19-2020, 02:18 PM

I am the world's forgotten boy,
The one who searches and destroys.
-Iggy Pop & The Stooges

APRIL 2020


The boy's eyes irised open into a foggy state of being and not being, with insistent lights and distant sounds like a novice's first fumbles on a piano. Confusion resulted, naturally, before the memory centers surged to life, neuron clusters alighting like a view of multiple distant thunderstorms from afar.

That's when the panic set in.

A shadowy figure leaned over him, and the boy's heart pistoned against his chest as three words worried their way through his brain like a carrion worm.

Please not him.

Please not him.

Please not him.

Slowly, gradually, the vexing etherealness of this world he had been spat out into started to become more refined. He became distantly aware of a woman's voice, though muted as through multiple filters.

C-n -o- hea- me? C-rey?

He struggled to hone in on the source of the voice, eyes still beating back the harsh lights, and soon became aware that it was the shadowy outline itself speaking to him. Closing his eyes against the onslaught of color, he took solace in the fact that THIS particular void creation, at THIS particular moment of time, was not the malicious parasite that for months had made a stronghold in his skull. A stronghold from which he had threaded chaos and despair onto the airwaves and into people's very homes for the sole purpose of seeing what would happen.

The Engineer is still here.

That fearsome thought a dolorous clang on his burgeoning return to the waking world. Somewhere, out there, the woman's voice came into sharper focus.

Corey? Can you hear me? If you can, please squeeze my hand.

Warmth on his palm. He tried to squeeze, but could only manage the barest twitch.

What's wrong with me?
The Engineer is still here.
What's wrong with me?

The thoughts started coming so fast they raced into each other, each plowing into the next, devouring its tail, and forming an ouroboros of fear.

That's good Corey. That's good. Can you open your eyes for me again?

He obeyed out of blind reflex. The lights were not so penetrating now, and in place of that sinister dark relief a middle aged nurse stood.

The Engineer is still here.

Corey wanted to tell her to run. Get away from him. Before he finds out where you live and ties you up and forces you to watch your children chug antifreeze just for the perverse thrill of it. He wanted to tell her to run.

Your body has suffered a terrible trauma. You may not be able to use all parts of your body right now. She spoke the words gingerly, a humane attempt at taking the bite out of the possibility of being locked up inside himself forever. You need to rest. Okay?

Corey tried to nod in the face of the absurdity of it all, again just eking out a miserly twitch. Here he was, in a broken body, that housed the most monstrous entity in known creation, but he just needed to rest.

However, as he laid there, something in his unconscious hindbrain nagged at him. Not for the presence of something, but for an ABSENCE. The nurse's words were lost as Corey dove within, escaping into the confines of his own mind, investigating this odd new sensation. He braced himself for the appearance of that demon, The Engineer. But he didn't come. And that’s when the precise nature of this odd new feeling started to coalesce. That’s when he started to realize what was missing.

Heart racing with anticipation, Corey reigned the elation in almost immediately. No, no, it was too good. It wasn’t possible. His inner eye spun into action, flitting about the palace of his mind, turning over all the furniture, pouring through its rooms, and nooks, and cranies. Riding a thundering wave of neuronal inertia, Corey looked for The Engineer.

And he was gone.

He refused to believe it. Refused to buy into the hope. Because it was just when things seemed brightest that that monster pulled the shade down on the light, jeering and scolding you for your naivete. But try as he might, Corey couldn’t shake a….a lightness of being...within him. A fog of oppression had been lifted, something truly WAS different. And it was then that he finally allowed himself to hope...to believe. He stared defiantly into the darkness, and nothing stared back.
For the first time in as long as he could remember, his mind was quiet, serene, and most importantly, totally his.

Hot, salty tears poked up and out of the corners of Corey’s eyes. His chest heaved as a sob tumbled out of his ravaged body. The nurse put a careful hand on his forearm. Her brow furrowed and she cooed gently at him. Oh sweety, please don’t cry. We’ll do everything we can….

She didn’t get it. But it was ok. Corey continued sobbing tears of joy.

NOW


Motherfucker!

Corey hissed, eyes boring into the five pound weight tethered about his ankle. He lifted the leg once more, but the muscles screamed.

29. Naomi spoke simply. Come on, Corey. Give me one more.

With a pant, he let the leg drop and tried to raise it again. He got about half way up, when an arc of red hot agony shot from his knee up through his inner thigh and into his groin. MOTHERFUCKER!

Corey let the leg drop and hung his head.

Naomi didn’t jump into the pause right away. It’s okay, you’ll get there. You were so close.

Corey nodded his sweat drenched head without looking up at her. His hand fumbled behind him on the bed for his leg brace.

Maybe just let it rest awhile, okay?

Yeah. A deep ragged breath. Okay

Sliding into the chair next to his bed, Naomi bent low to try to catch his eye. You know what else I gotta talk to you about right?

Corey finally looked up at her. Half her attractive face was covered by a mask, and the rest of her slim body was covered in violet scrubs. The badge affixed to her top identified her as nursing staff and bore a picture that was years out of date. Her long, waist length dreadlocks of yesteryear had matured into a short cropped stylish cut with gold accents. She was there when Corey woke up, and had been there ever since. His best advocate. His most stolid supporter, aside from Thad Duke perhaps. But even she couldn’t keep the ravenous number crunchers at bay forever. The costs of his stay were adding up, and he was well enough to go home.

Wherever that was.

Do you have a place in mind yet?

Yeahhhhh? The response started out confidently before lilting up into a question. He heard Naomi sigh.

You need to swallow your pride and ask that Duke boy for a place to stay.

Corey flopped back on the bed. I can’t.

He’ll say yes. You know he will.

That’s why I can’t. Feels like coercion. And he’s got so much on his plate already. The kid. Corey winces. That love life ‘doe.

Naomi chuckles. He’s a good friend Corey. They’re hard to come by. She paused. I can’t hold the might of the capitalist healthcare machine back any longer. Have you tried asking your boss?

Corey shot up. Lane?! Hell no! For as good as Vincent Lane had been when it came to financing Corey’s healthcare, perhaps out of guilt, or as Corey posited in his more cynical moments, fear of litigation, there was no way he was going to ask his employer for help with housing.

Sleep on it Corey. But we gotta find you a place by the end of the week.

Hard deadline?

Hard deadline, boo.

Corey mock snarled before crawling further up into his bed, gingerly dragging his pained leg behind him. He dropped his face down into the pillow. Then, muffled by the pillow case, Can I have a jello cup?

He couldn’t see Naomi roll her eyes. Yes.

The rainbow flavored one?

Rainbow’s not a flavor. But yes.

Thank you.


A Little Later….

We rejoin Corey in the therapy room. He’s wearing shorts and a Thunder Knuckles “Keep The Change Ya Filthy Animal” t-shirt with the neck hole all stretched out. His leg is dipped in the whirlpool, and its soothing rushing waters set to work on his tortured leg.

Corey looks up at the camera.

Hey XWF Universe! Surprised to see me? Yeah, me too. And I hear all those well deserved “fuck offs” in the back. I know the last time you all saw me I was….pretty awful…. His lips tug down into a deep frown and his gaze tics towards the water before retraining on the camera. So I don’t mind the “fuck offs”. In a way, I’m very, very deserving of the “fuck offs”. Because even though I wasn’t in control of myself for the worst of The Engineer’s transgressions, he happened BECAUSE of me. All those people he hurt, all that humiliation heaped on the Universal title division, it’s….on me. So give me all the “fuck offs”. And I will listen to every single one. I’ll weather every slung stone and arrow. Because I have it coming.

But…
He holds a finger up… I ask that you bear with me as I bring you all up to speed. Because, yes, it is recap time. But this isn’t just any old recap, it’s a recap and a plea that maybe, one day, you all will find it within yourselves to trust me again. At the end of March Madness, thanks to the combined efforts of Theo Pryce, Vincent Lane, the Gunns, Atara Themis, and last but certainly not least, Shawn Warstein, Team Evil was thwarted and The Engineer was put out of commission with a vengeance. Shawn injected us with a chemical cocktail that would later cause me to have a mid range stroke.

Three weeks later, I woke up in a hospital bed with a catheter up my pee hole and no idea what the fuck just happened. Half my body was functionally useless due to the stoke. I had no idea what had transpired in the time I was unconscious. All I knew was that I could not sense The Engineer’s presence at all. He was gone.
Where he fucked off to, I have no clue. I don’t care. I presume he was fried when I had the stroke, but I don’t know
. Corey kisses his hand and sends the kiss flying towards the camera. I do know that I have much love for the people who stopped him though. Despite all the pain and hardship I’ve had to go through these past months, my freedom was worth it.

Shawn Warstein. You saved my life and you saved the integrity of the XWF. I bear you no ill will. I understand you have decided to part ways with the XWF. But if you ever decide to come back, please talk to me. Okay? I mean it. I know it wasn’t your intention but...I owe you everything.
Corey looks like he’s repressing tears, and he sniffs mightily before stifling them.

But hey, there’s no crying in baseball! I have a return to hype! He coughs, still collecting himself. And I have a world of trust to rebuild. So this is the part where I’m contractually obligated to win over the hearts and minds of the fans and convince the whole world that come hell or high water, this physically broke down teenage boy with a drug problem, who once housed a malicious artificial intelligence, but only after housing the time traveling consciousness of a warrior assassin from the future…deep breath…. who is now staring down the barrel of a massive identity crisis and is thoroughly in need of some trauma counseling… one more deep breath….is your sure fire bet to win this whole shabang and be the next Universal Champion my-damn-SELF!

He looks pointedly down at the tub, and then back at the camera. His lips thin out into a wan smile.

You may want to bet it on black instead. He pauses in an “eh...EH?!” fashion. I used the pay per view’s theme in the promo.

He reaches into the tank to give his knee a massage.

Ya know, one other thing that surprised me after I woke up was just how much of Lux and The Engineer’s fighting techniques I retained. And I’ve been practicing. As well as I’ve been able. But holy hell if this isn’t gonna be an uphill battle.

Don’t get me wrong, part of me would love to win this. And think of the story. A triumphant Corey Smith, after suffering from all that adversity, immediately stepping back into the limelight to face one of the very few black marks on Lux’s record….for the Universal Championship?!
He makes a sour expression. Or at least, I WOULD be able to say that if Vinnie Lane and Chris Chaos hadn’t unleashed a massive DIABARFA on all of us and knocked Sarah Lacklan out of the XWF. Ya’ll did Sarah real dirty. And Sarah, I would have LOVED to face you. I mean, we woulda had to work at that heat because for whatever reason you like, NEVER, mentioned beating Lux...like…a whole year after the fact….even when it had nothing to do with anything going on at the present time. So people probably forgot. He smirks in a “yeah I know what the fuck I’m doing” kinda way. Just sayin’ Woulda been great.

Where was I? Oh yeah, the hard sell. Emphasis on “hard”. He closes one eye and makes a regretful face. Or not. But yeah! This is gonna be a rough one. However, I do think I have one tiny advantage over the rest of you. And NO, it’s not lowered expectations. Another awkward beat passes. Mosly not lowered expectations.

You see, it’s all in my outlook going into this match. And mine is unique. Because for me, this isn’t about the destination. It’s about the journey.

The Universal Championship? Hell, I’m not even sure I deserve it. No, my goal is this rumble itself. It’s about that first distillation of months of pain, and misery, and anger into a singular contest. It’s about getting a gauge of just where I’m at and just how far I have to go. And I’ll tell ya what, I’m an impatient motherfucker. So when it comes to my recovery time, I don’t want it to take up another minute of my life after High Stakes. I don’t want to sit around on the sidelines anymore and watch Robert Main turn late night slasher reel, or lay about wondering if THIS is the night that Charlie Nickles ignobly OD’s live on TV. NO! I wanna be done! Fully cooked, fresh out the oven, and READY...TO….GO!

So I need to prove it to myself by tossing as many goddamn bodies over that rope as possible.

So there you have it, cats and kittens. My prize, my FOCUS, isn’t the Universal Championship. The prize, for me, is being ALIVE to participate in this match. As ME and ME alone. And I will be God DAMNED it I don’t whole ass the debut of Corey Smith.
He points up at himself for emphasis. Then, with a smirk he puffs out his chest. Cripple says WHAT.

Glancing off to the side to look at the clock, he shoots up a bit in his seat. Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s nearly 4 PM, which is when I go have dinner with all the grandmas here. It's salisbury steak night. I like salisbury steak night. He pulls his leg out of the tank slowly and grabs for a crutch leaning beside it. Corey then looks at the camera expectantly. Please don’t film me as I pathetically hobble out of here.

Oh, sorry! The camera operator stammers.

In fact, just splice in some old footage of me looking cute.

Uh, ok.

[Image: original.gif]


Sweet.

[Image: CoreySig6A.png?width=270&height=406]
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[-] The following 9 users Like Corey Smith's post:
"Loverboy" Vinnie Lane (11-29-2020), Atara Raven (10-19-2020), Barney Green (10-19-2020), Doctor Louis D'Ville (10-20-2020), HeavensToBetsy (11-19-2020), Jefferson Jackson (11-29-2020), Jim "the Jim" Jimson (10-19-2020), Sebastian Duke (10-20-2020), Shawn Warstein (10-19-2020)




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