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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » Leap Of Faith 2021 RP Board
The Rebirth
Author Message
Thrax Offline
Registered but either hasn't added self to a roster yet or doesn't RP



XWF FanBase:
Drug addicts, rebels, weirdos

(the villain you love to hate; has cult following; may deal drugs on side)


#1
05-29-2021, 08:42 PM


[Image: ik182Nk.png]

My eyes were drawn to the illuminated ‘FCW’ lettering along the side of the black brick building. A nauseous deja vu lifted butterflies to flight inside of my charred stomach. I followed the clown….what choice did I have? As we approached the staircase in front of the dark building the demonic jester turned back to me with an expression I could only understand as ‘shiteating annoyance’.

“Alright now look here, fucker- you don’t want to play games with Tickles? Fine. But before we go in here there’s something *really* important that I gotta tell ya!”

I glanced up at the two men posting up at the top of the staircase as the clown’s foul breath wafted my way once more. The men on the top of the stairs looked like normal enough people. I envied their pale flesh, their functioning eyelids. I sighed softly before looking back at my painted tormentor.

“So the short and skinny of it is this: you’ve almost made it to the second layer of hell, bub! All you’ve gotta do is get past one little challenge and you’ll be on your merry way. Think you’re up to the task? HA! Think again! If you were, would this be Hell?! But don’t worry shitso, after this one you only got four more to get through until you reach your final resting place! Hehehehe. I hope you like we got in store for you, BUBSIES!”

I glared down at Tickles the Demon Clown as that fatfuck stuffed himself on my misery.

“Let’s get on with this.”

I growled back flatly at the clown. My anger only seemed to entertain him more.

“Now THAT’S more like it! You’re gonna need all that energy AND THEN SOME to get to the second layer of Hell! We got a special little surprise waiting in here for you, pal! I know you’ve been DREAMING of this rematch for so long! Do you….remember….remember…..remember? Hehehehehe.”

I hid my confusion from the clown as I glanced back up at the illuminated letters on the side of the building. F….C….W….they had to stand for something. But what? I felt the answer was just on the tip of my tongue when….

“Hey BOZO! Let’s go! I got something ta’ show ya! Heh.”

Tickles gestured for me to follow him as he walked briskly up the stairs. I squinted at the familiar lettering once more before turning my head and following the demon up the steps. The clown walked past the two men paying them no mind. The clown pushed open the dual doors and walked into a shroud of darkness. I followed him, for what choice did I have?

As I stepped inside the brick building my burnt nostrils were immediately flushed with the familiar scent of blood, sweat, and tears. The building was packed from wall-to-wall with screaming fans, standing room only. In the center of the building there stood a rickety old wrestling ring with wooden baseboards and no ringside apron.

“Coming up next we have the CO-MAIN EVENT OF THE EVENING! INTRODUCING FIRST, STANDING AT A HEIGHT OF NEARLY SIX AND A HALF FEET, WEIGHING NEARLY 230 POUNDS HE IS THE ONE, HE IS THE ONLY-”

My eyes were busy scanning for the entrance ramp when Tickles nudged me in the side to regain my attention.

“Do you remember yet?”

The ending of the introduction went in one ear and out the other as the clown tugged on my arm and looked up at me with a raised eyebrow. Some shitty funk metal song played over the building’s outdated sound system as I looked back at my supposed ‘guide’.

“Maybe it’d be easier to think if you’d shut your trap for once.”

If I still had eyebrows they would have certainly narrowed as I glared down at the sack of walking pigshit beside me.

“Hehehehehe I knew this place would bring that BEAST back out of you! Let me see all you got tonight….oh hey, I know this song!”

What was left of my ears perked up as another entrance theme blared out over the blown-out arena speakers. My eyes drifted onto the wrestler in the ring: a tall but lean man with a thick beard and short haircut. My view of the man in the ring was all but shrouded in darkness as the light’s in the arena slowly dimmed to black. A blue smoke began to shoot out of undisclosed locations around the building. As I listened to the melody of the music, I could swear I had heard it nearly a thousand times before….

“This song sounds so familiar....”

“It was your theme music, you fucking DOLT! Hehehehehe!”

I eyed the clown with deep skepticism as blue lighting beamed down onto the entrance ramp. My eyes were immediately drawn to the armored shadow beneath the extravagant blue lights.

[Image: 6038178b726453333d5acb52-1619711162368.j...ize=1200:*]

It was nearly impossible to hear the ring announcer over the rambunctious roars of the crowd, but I did my best to decipher the jumbled code.

“INTRODUCING NEXT, HAILING FROM ----, HE IS THE MAN YOU --- ---- TO --- -------! HE IS THE ------, ---------, -------- ------- OF THE -------! WEIGHING IN AT 200 AND -- ------, STANDING AT ---------- THREE INCHES TALL! I GIVE TO YOU: -------!”

I watched in wonder as the man in the pauldrons charged down the ramp! Within seconds he had slid beneath the bottom rope! The blue lighting was replaced by traditional overhead lights as the armored man immediately began going to town on his off guard opponent! He hit the unsuspecting foe with a right hand, then a left! Then another right! His opponent was against the ropes! The man in the pauldrons grabbed his rival’s body and locked him into a mai thai clinch against the ropes...but only for a second! The attacker quickly brought a knee up to his foe’s nose! The contact was sickening. The victim fell to the ground, only to then receive a flurry of boots to the body!

“You were FUCKING GOOD! Back in the day, at least. This was going to be your BIG BREAK, don’t you remember?”

I looked back to the clown, but only briefly. The jester had found himself a bag of popcorn and was shoveling fistfuls of it into his mouth in between his commentary. My gaze quickly drifted back to the action in the ring.

“The two of you were finally having your rubber match. Your feud was HOT! But of course it was! It was the big gossip in all the indy dirt sheets! The stories practically wrote themselves. Two friends turned bitter enemies. It’s a tale as old as time!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“What? You don’t remember yet? Just keep watching, just keep watching! The good part is still coming up! Hehehehehe.”

My gaze was glued to the figures in the ring. The man with the short hair had finally fought himself out of his predicament, and then some. He had his now pauldron-less opponent backed up into the turnbuckle! The short haired man chopped away at his opponent’s chest. Every chop was quickly followed by a pained yelp. 1, 2, 3, 4 chops followed swiftly by an uppercut was all it took to send the man in the turnbuckle falling down to his ass.

“He got you good with that one! I never knew a few chops could hurt so bad!I might have to start taking notes on the way this guy is whooping your ass!”

My head turned on a swivel as I barked down at the small clown intent on pushing all of my buttons.

“You know damned well that isn’t me in the ring! I’m standing right here! It would take more than a few chops to put me down...”

“Oh, put who down? Put you down? And who exactly ARE you? What’s your name again, pal?”

I growled softly at the clown before my gaze fell down to the floor.

“You don’t even know your own FUCKING name and you’re going to stand here and tell me who the fuck you are and who the fuck you aren’t? You’re a real piece of work, you know that? OH SHIT! LOOK AT THAT MOVE!”

I lifted my head as I peered back into the ring. The tall and slender figure was clotheslining his opponent over the top rope! Both men flew out of the ring! The man with the short hair and the distinctly canadian beard landed on his feet. The man that was supposed to be me had no such luck.

‘My’ opponent didn’t waste any time stomping ‘my’ face onto the concrete floor outside of the ring. I heard bone breaking beneath the boot as blood began to pool beneath ‘my’ head.

“Hey now, it might look and sound gruesome but you had that coming! You’ve been fucking with this guy for a long, loooooong time. You couldn’t have expected him to take it all laying down! He’s not your whore wife, buddy!”

I scowled at the clown before drawing my attention back to the action occurring on the concrete floor next to the ring. Another boot stomp, then another. More blood began to pool beneath the man’s barely breathing body. I winced ever so slightly as another boot came down.

“Hey, that’s not excessive, so don’t even get all emotional! That’s called JUST DESERTS, pal! Hehehehe. Did you really think that costing your partner the FCW tag team gold would just be water under the bridge? You two had to fight tooth and nail to get to the finals in the tag team tournament! Tooth and nail I tell ye, because I’m pretty sure you both lost half a dozen of each in that damned tournament! Hehehehe. All that pain and suffering, all those nights of dreaming...made worthless by one cheap chair shot! Hehehehe. You’ve never been the sneaky type, so what made you think you could sneak a chairshot past the ref in the damn finals?!?! Hehehehehe. You deserve what you’re getting on that concrete!”

I tuned out the lies of the deceiver as I watched the two men go at it outside the ring. There was a suplex. Then a bodyslam onto the steel steps. Then a few more boots. The scene was grisly as an unconscious man’s body was rolled back into the ring. The tall and slender man pushed his opponent onto his back before hooking a leg and covering his chest. The referee jumped to the mat and began the count.


1





2




KICKOUT!

The crowd went nuts as the nearly comatose man lifted up his shoulder ever so slightly. I turned back to Tickles as the referee broke his count.

“It doesn’t look over yet, fiend.”

“Oh just you wait! The good part is still coming up! Hehehe.”

“What are you hoping to prove to me? Just state it and be done! There is no need for this grandiosity. I’m ready to move on!”

I sneered at the clown as I spoke. He giggled in reply.

“Hehehehehe where’s the fun in that?”

I glared at Tickles before turning my attention back to the match. The wounded man was lifted to his feet by his cocky opponent when, all of a sudden,

THE WOBBLY MAN DELIVERS A LOW BLOW OUT OF NOWHERE! IT’S FOLLOWED UP WITH AN IMMEDIATE IMPACT DDT!

The tall and slender man’s head slams against the wooden floorboards of the ring with wicked impact. A few splinters piercing his flesh are visible as he’s rolled over for a pinfall attempt.


1




2



Kickout!

The crowd gasps as the man with short hair lifts a miraculous shoulder. Everyone in the building was completely entranced by the violent carnage in the ring….except for me. That damned clown would never leave me alone.

“Neither of you wanted to lose! You were both going to die before you let yourselves get pinned! But fuck, if there was ever a match to win, it was this one! You two had been scraping by on paltry pay for years by this point. This night was your first chance to change all that. The hype of your feud was starting to earn the eyes of the major leagues. There were XWF scouts in the stands, looking for new talent to sign! Whichever one of you could win the rubber match could count on a BIG FAT PAYCHECK and a contract offer to join the superstars! Or at least that’s what you told your wife, right? Heh.”

I shook my head in derision at the clown before turning back to look at the action in the ring. Both men were on their feet, but they were stumbling around the ring, blinded by the blood in their eyes. They were each lashing out wildly, but missing by a mile. I tried to focus on the match, but the clown just wouldn’t shut the fuck up.

“You told your wife everything was going to change after you won this match! You told her that you were finally, after fifteen years in the business, going to get your big break! And she believed it. She believed every word you told her……”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about….”

“Oh, don’t I? Just watch the match, pal!"

As I looked back at the ring I saw both men on the top of one of the turnbuckles. They were trading plays and jockeying for position atop the top rope.

“They’re playing a dangerous game!”

“That’s the only game I know how to play.”

The clown grinned at me as I refused to meet his gaze. My eyes stayed fixed on the violent scene as Tickles tried to prod me once more.

“Hey, we’re making some progress finally! Bout time you recognized that bloody piece of shit laying a turd in the ring! Hehehe.”

I watched myself struggle for dominance on the top rope. I grabbed my rival and pulled him towards me. I saw myself hook an arm over the man’s neck and grab his waists before shooting off the toprope. The two men flew high in the air as they leapt off the top rope, one suplexing the other. The image was like something on a magazine cover: two men, floating high in the air as the gasping audience waited for them to fall.

And fall they did.

Their bodies landed with a sickening thud against the concrete floor. The audience went silent as the two men laid still on the concrete floor. A puddle of blood began to pool between the men’s broken bodies. A team of paramedics came running down the entrance ramp with a stretcher. Tickles wouldn’t stop fucking laughing as I watched the two men lay perfectly still…..I hoped against hope that one of them would rise to their feet.

“BOOM, BANG, BAM! And just like that your sorry ass was back where you started! Ah shit, I think I see the talent scouts leaving the building! What a way to blow your big shot! You knocked yourself out in front of the recruiters, YOU DUMMY! Why would they sign you now?!?! They probably thought both of you had brain damage after that tumble!.....well, they were right about you at least! Hehehehehe.”

I looked at the unconscious men with shame and disappointment. Could that have been me inside the ring? I don’t remember this match at all…..but I don’t remember any of my matches. The man moved like me, he hit like me, he bled like me…...was that me laying there unconscious? Was this the night I died?

“Look on the bright side, pal! At least you didn’t TECHNICALLY lie to your wife, eh? Everything did change after this match! Finally, after fifteen years, your family had a real change! A change of pace, a change of scenery, a change for the better!”

I watched as the paramedics tried to cram two bodies onto one stretcher. It didn’t work out well. The stretcher collapsed as the paramedics went to lift it. The paramedics began to panic as they ran back to the locker rooms to grab more stretchers.

“No…..you’re lying! I didn’t die here! I’m greater than this….I have to be!”

“Oh you didn’t die here, dickweed! Your career didn’t even die here, although it probably should have! But do you know what DID die here, old top?”

I turned back to the clown as a sick curiosity took hold of my mind.

“Your wife’s love for you! She stuck beside you through thick and thin but, eventually, your head just got too thick and your pockets just got too thin! She couldn’t bear it anymore! She couldn’t stomach you anymore! She was tired of paying your bills and raising your children while you went off to LOSE, match after match. This was the last straw! After she paid forty bucks for a pay per view just to watch you lose, AGAIN, she called it quits! You told her this time would be different. You told her it was a good idea to empty your savings account to go train at a top gym for this fight! You told her you’d have the rent money after you got your victory bonus!

You fucking idiot. She should have walked out on your sorry ass a long, long time before this. But frilly little emotions like love kept your wife from realizing she married a failure….until this night.”

“Silence!”

I screamed at the clown in anguish as the shattered fragments of my memory slowly came back to me.

“Hehehehe did I strike a nerve, big guy? You just couldn’t get it done! Set your career back YEARS, it even destroyed your marriage! Both of you fell flat on your faces! The hype train got derailed and the former tag team wonders turned into a pair of singles blunders! No wonder you two didn’t wanna dig up that old history when you finally made the big leagues and came face to face with each other in the XWF!”

“You’re lying! That wasn’t me. I wouldn’t lose to such a scrub! I would have won this match!”

“You literally didn’t! Hehehe. You didn’t start that mean winning streak until your wife walked out on you and took the kids with her! That really broke ya, big guy, oh yes it did. And when your big shot finally did come again, and you signed that contract…..you didn’t have a single person to celebrate with. HA!”

I turned away from the clown and looked back at the two men laying still on the concrete floor. The paramedics still hadn’t returned from the locker room with another set of stretchers. I buried my burnt face inside of my charred palms.

“No….that couldn’t have been me…..I never lose…”

“Oh yeah?”

The clown smirked at me with smug satisfaction.

“Prove it.”

My head turned on a swivel as the clown shoveled some more popcorn into his gluttonous gullet. I cocked my head to the side as I looked at the clown expectantly.

“Shit, might as well give it to you straight, eh? You obviously lost this match, you fucking dolt. Double knockout, double loss! It’s your memory we’re pulling all this shit from! This was an awful night for you. You didn’t regain consciousness until the next morning. But while you were seeing stars and flying with the tweety birds, your wife was changing the locks and calling up her ex! When you got home you were expecting a kiss on the cheek and a few words of encouragement...hehehe…..you got divorce papers instead, dummy!

But hey, down here in Hell we’re good people. Don’t go listening to all that Christian shittalk, down here in the depths of the abyss we know how to get even! You think you could have won that match? Well why don’t we head down to the ring and have a little do-over. It’s what you’re here for, pal. You want to move on from me? You tired of talking to your good friend Tickles? Well go pin that sorry sob and you’ll never have to hear from me again! But guess what, fucker?”

Tickles leaned forward as I contorted my exposed facial muscles. He spat chunks of popcorn on my face as he spoke.

“If you fail, you never get to leave! You’ll keep fighting him, and losing, and fighting him, and losing...for all eternity! Hehehehehehe.”

I wiped the popcorn spittle off my face as I responded.

“If I pin him, you will finally leave me alone?”

“Yes siree! But be careful: if you win, you’ll advance to the next layer...hehehe.”

“It can’t be any worse than dealing with you.”

I started pushing my way through the crowd as I walked to the ring. Tickles was giggling, following my trail closely. Behind Tickles, a trail of popcorn chunks littered the floor. I pushed past the front row and hopped the security barricade. There was no one stopping me. I walked right over to the two downed men. My gaze drifted between the two sorry souls before I grabbed the skinnier man and threw his bloody corpse underneath the bottom rope. I slid in the ring right after him, as did Tickles.

I immediately hooked the leg of the unconscious man for a pinfall. I waited for the count...it never came.

“Hehehe not so fast buddy. We need to do the introductions!”

The lights in the arena dimmed as a microphone magically appeared inside of the clown’s hands. Tickles tossed the empty popcorn bag over the top rope before raising the microphone to his mouth.

“LADIES AND GENTLECUCKS…..IT’S TIME FOR OUR MAIN EVENT OF THE EVENING!”

The crowd roared back to life as the arena lights turned back to their full capacity.

“Hey fucker, get off him, let him get to his corner!”

Tickles kicked me with the force of a thousand horses, sending me flying off my foe and into the turnbuckle. Tickles bended down and grabbed the unconscious man by the head before literally flinging him over his shoulder and into the turnbuckle opposite me.

“IN THIS CORNER!”

Tickles pointed at me.

“Weighing in at way too fucking much and standing not nearly as tall as he likes to claim, he doesn’t even know his own name so I’m just going to call him…….MOTHERFUCKNIG THRAX!”

The crowd roared rambunctiously….but they don’t even know who I am. The peons in the stands have always been gullible gluts with no minds of their owns.

“AND IN THIS CORNER!”

Tickles pointed at the bloody and unconscious man in the opposite corner.

“HE IS THE ONE, THE ONLY, DEMON OF YOUR DREAMS!”

“What?”

CRAAAACCKKKK

SNAAAAAAPPPPP

POP!

Before my very eyes the man’s flesh began to fold in on itself and take a new shape. The bone’s inside the man’s body cracked, breaking themselves in pieces as they expanded and contracted. The man’s arms grew out of his sides. Loose skin began to build beneath the man’s extending arms. The once comatose human shook his head from side to side as he wrapped his elongated arms around himself. A few seconds passed before the beast shrieked and unfurled its wings, displaying it’s new form for the world to see.

[Image: 111043.1769697483.jpg]

The batlike creature towered over me from the other side of the ring. The monster stared into my eyes as a familiar voice whispered to me from the back of my mind...

“I’m going to open you up to a whole new world of pain and suffering you couldn’t even dream about...”

The bat grinned at me as Tickles brought the microphone up to his mouth one more time.

“LET’S GET IT ON!”

The bell rang and Tickles quickly scurried beneath the bottom rope. The demon bat screeched before charging at me! I darted to a different turnbuckle, barely avoiding the swinging claws of the hellspawn raised against me.

“He almost got ya that time!”

Tickles heckled me from outside the ring, but I didn’t dare pay him any mind. The demon turned it’s head on a swivel and stared at me with a bloodthirsty grin. It charged once more. Once again, I fled to another corner for safety.

“Come on! Fight him you prick!”

I turned around once I reached the new corner, only to see that the beast was quicker than I thought! It was nearly upon me! I lifted my right boot into the air just in time. The smooshed face of the bat creature slammed against my black boot, sending the creature reeling away from me. I charged out of the corner before leaving my feet and hitting a running bulldog on the bat!

The bat screeched and clawed at my face as we landed on the mat together. The long talons of the beast tore off pieces off my exposed flesh. I pushed off of the beast and backed up to my feet. I raised my fists instinctively as I prepared to box the bat.

The bat was much slower to its feet than I was. The creature’s unusual proportions made it slow and lethargic in it’s movements: there was no nimbleness or dexterity paired with the monster’s immeasurable strength. As the bat pushed itself back up to his feet I immediately moved in on it, being sure to keep a close watch on the beast’s long talons.

As I cautiously approached the bat it shrieked at me once more. When I looked inside of its agape mouth I saw long fangs chomping at the bit. The beast followed it’s screech with a slash from it’s talon! I rolled out of the way of the blow, doding right past the beast’s legs as I did so. I rolled onto my knees before turning around and charlie horsing the bat in the leg. I heard cartilage crack as my knuckles made contact.

The beast tumbled forward on to the ropes as I took it’s leg out from underneath it. I looked at the wounded bat, then I turned my head to look at the turnbuckle closest to me. I ran like a madman to that corner. With my back turned to the beast, I made my preparations quick and efficient. I knew I didn’t have much time…..but I didn’t think it would recover this quickly!

Just as I had removed the padding from the top turnbuckle I felt the thunderous footsteps of the bat charging towards me! The wooden floorboards creaked loudly beneath the bat’s weight, causing the ring to wobble back and forth every time the creature lifted it’s sprinting legs. I knew I didn’t have time to dodge out of the turnbuckle this go around…..so I collapsed to my knees. I felt the full weight of the bat run headfirst into the exposed turnbuckle. From the vibrations on the wood I could feel the creature stumbling backwards.

When I looked between the first and second ropes I saw Tickles talking to a woman dressed in high fashion. Tickles was looking at her ass as he spoke to her, but the woman’s gaze was fully upon me.

[Image: images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQTA3TuiMjXGt3sqvYlx_c...A&usqp=CAU]

I didn’t have time to make goggly eyes at the hot asian bimbo outside the ring. I pushed myself to my feet and turned around. The bat creature turned around, too, and on the top of it’s forehead I could see a river of green blood flowing down it’s disgusting face.

“COME ON! GIVE ME ALL YOU GOT YOU STUPID SON OF A BITCH!”

I taunted the bat as I gestured for it to charge at me. The creature went into a rage! It came sprinting across the ring once more, but this time, I charged forward to meet it head on!.....or so the mindless monster thought.

I wouldn’t fail again.

I slid beneath the monster’s legs as we neared each other. As I slid beneath the monster I grabbed it’s feet and lifted them from the ground, forcing the bat to fall to it’s stomach. Within almost no time at all I had twisted back around and locked in an STF submission! The bat screeched in pain as I cranked back on its neck! The bat flapped it’s powerful wings against the mat, but it was no use, I was never letting go of the hold!

As the bat floundered beneath me I made eye contact with the beautiful woman standing next to Tickles. She smiled as I ripped the bat’s head off of it’s neck. A geyser of green blood sprayed out from the creature’s neck as I stood tall in the ring. I held the bat’s head above my own, letting it’s blood coat my flesh as the audience roared.

Tickles slid into the ring, followed closely by the woman who clearly wanted this charred dick deep inside of her. It’s a shame I had nothing left to give her.

“Well that’s not quite what I fucking expected but hey pal, I guess you did the fucking job huh? Reaaal proud of yourself, aren’t ya? Fucking piece of shit. But hey, fair is fair and a deal’s a deal. Hehehe. But, there's been a slight change of plans."

Tickles was tossing a small brown sack up and down inside the palm of his left hand. Coins jingled inside the pouch as the smiling clown played with the brown bag before stuffing it into his pocket. Tickles gestured towards the woman in the white dress beside him.

“My friend here thought ya did reaaaaalllll good in that little bat match. So guess what? You’re not going to the second layer of Hell, bub. At least not today. But we’ll be seeing you reaaaaaalll soon, pal. Heheheh-.”

I threw the bloody bat head at Tickles the clown. The force of the massive head slamming against his tiny body sent the clown flying out of the ring between the ropes. I spit his way before turning my gaze upon the lovely woman speaking to me in the ring.

“That was highly impressive. I’ve been having a bit of a bat problem myself. I made an arrangement with your....."

The woman looks over to the clown who is still laying down on the concrete outside of the ring.

"Friend. Basically, he 'sold' you to me for a few weeks. But don't think of this as slavery: think of it as a new kind of freedom. A temporary freedom, a respite from this awful place, until you're able to fulfill the clown's end of the bargain."

"I just want to get the fuck out of here."

"Say no more, say no more...."

The woman snapped her fingers and created a swirling blue portal in the middle of the ring.

"Come along now."

The woman gestured for me to follow her as she stepped into the portal. I looked down at the dead, headless bat leaking out green goo on the floor. Then I looked over to Tickles the clown, who was slowly stirring outside of the ring. I cast a few loogies in both directions before following the woman through the blue portal.


End Scene



I can smell the sweet scent of death in these halls. Can you?

Thrax looked into the camera as we opened with a shot of this extravagantly dressed man walking down a hallway with various carts, cameras, and weapons lining the eggshell colored walls. The XWF logo appears in the bottom right corner of the screen. Thrax pauses briefly to take a deep inhalation of the air around him.

It. Smells. Glorious!

Thrax continues walking towards the backpedaling camera after breathing in the salty, sweaty air trapped inside the XWF facilities. Thrax stops walking as he comes upon an open door on his left. Thrax tucks his head inside the locker room, only to find that nobody is home.

I believe they call this time of the year ‘spring cleaning’.

Thrax steps through the open doorway and into the men’s locker room, which is clearly identified by the sign standing at shoulder height right next to the door. The camera follows Thrax into the gray room lined with open-facing wooden lockers.

[Image: 8fc77c8d005ffd70ced943b9696438c2?AccessK...oworigin=1]

The broken bodies, the crushed dreams, the expiring contracts…..they are all flushed down the drain this time of year. So many men will step through these halls once, twice, maybe three times: and then never again. Their bones were too brittle, their souls were too soft. They could never withstand the anarchy, the savagery, and the warfare they were subjected to. They just weren’t built for this lifestyle, despite their deeply held delusions.

Delusions I would shatter, one body blow at a time.

It’s a dog eat dog world, and the poodles don’t seem to make it very far once the rottweilers and pitbulls get involved. I know I’ve chowed down on my fair share of chihuahuas and pomeranians inside this very room. Have you?

Thrax eyed the camera with a raised eyebrow. The ears of his crimson cloak mimicked the gesture.

Most of you are nothing but mutts in my industry. Shaggy, unkempt, and only halfway viable: but at least you know your place. Most of you mutts know to get out of the way when the real thoroughbreds walk into the building. You know what would happen if you didn’t, and you have no intention of winding up caged and euthanized at the hands of your betters.

But some of you still don’t understand your role in this world. Some of you still seem so desperate to believe you’re the main characters of this story. A few of you cling to foolish notions, believing yourselves invincible solely because you’ve yet to feel my wrath. Keep your delusions close to your heart….it will make it that much more fun to rip your dreams of glory away from you.

A faint grin stretched out the latex of the man’s mask near his mouth.

I’ve ripped a lot of dreams away from a lot of mutts over the years. I’ve learned a good deal about junkyard hounds during my journey. I know all their behaviors, all their predilections, all the signs of their impending demise.

A hit dog will holler, a dying dog will scream. But a dead dog? A dead dog stays silent. A dead dog no longer clings to fanciful fairy tales of safety. A dead dog knows help isn’t coming.

Thrax looks at the empty wooden lockers decorating the room. His eyes seem to drift onto a set of three lockers in particular. Thrax takes a few steps towards the empty vessels for hopes, dreams, and ring attire.

I see a whole lot of dead dogs in these lockers. Hanging upside down from their paws, dried blood decorating their carcasses like warpaint. The lashings were too much for them: they never even had the chance to scream. These mongrels weren’t cut out for a match of this caliber.

Thrax’s gaze drifted onto the leftmost locker before him.

RL Edgar…..when was the last time you won a singles match? Has it really been months? My my, no wonder you were so willing to descend into the other side….

Thrax’s gaze drifted onto the center most locker in front of him.

Ariel Dixon…..this isn’t a live action remake of Lady and the Tramp. Your masked lover won’t be able to shield you from the pain and devastation. After tomorrow night his body will lay just like yours does now, limp and lifeless against the floor....

Thrax’s gaze fell upon the rightmost of the three lockers in front of him.

Sil Frigida…..did you finally overdose on all those ‘vitamins’ and ‘supplements’? Be careful, mafioso. If you haven’t already been neutered, those testes are going to shrivel! As goes a man’s ball sack so goes his courage, I suppose….

Thrax looked intermittently between the three empty lockers in front of him.

Your vile stench fills our nostrils with failure….but at least you mutts are smart enough to keep our ears free of your yapping. If you’re not dead yet, you know you soon will be. You knew you were dead the moment your name appeared besides mine on the card. Why fight the inevitable? The three of you have made the smart choice, and gone peacefully into that good night….

If only your wisdom could be imparted upon the hollering hounds across the way.

Thrax walked away from the three empty lockers without another word their way. Thrax walked over to a row of wooden lockers across the room. The man in the elaborate outfit came to a standstill as he stared into a locker tucked into the corner of the room.

You sure have been hollering a lot over here, isn’t that right, Ghost Tank? Or is it Oswald now? Does it even matter?

You’re still the same joke you’ve always been, even with a fresh coat of paint and a new gimmick. What are you even hollering about, boy? No one’s hit you yet. No one has laid into you. No one has spent any considerable amount of time thinking about you, let alone speaking about you. So why do you holler so much, hmmmm, ghost pup? No one pays you any mind whatsoever.

Is that why you yap so much? Do you think your nasty shrieks and thirsty pleas will reach the ears of your superiors? They won’t. They never have, and they never will. You know why, Ozzy?

Because your bark is worse than your bite. MUCH worse than your bite. No one is afraid of you, even when you bare your fangs and leap to pounce. You don’t even have the capacity to instill fear in the hearts of children. Wasn’t it Solace Tatum, a near child herself, that embarrassed you on national television? She certainly didn’t fear you. So why should I?

She didn’t even RESPECT you, Ghost Tank. She was nothing but a newborn baby in a manger coming into this federation, and even she knew better than to take you seriously. She batted you around like a kitten playing with a ball of yarn. A left, a right, and an uppercut from a schoolgirl was all it took to knock Oswald off of his self-made pedestal. She would have taken that little belt of yours, too...if she thought it was worth a damn. But she didn’t respect you, and she damn sure didn’t respect that trinket you carry around.

Solace Tatum was right to refuse the ‘championship’ she won. She would’ve looked like a fool raising that toy above her head with pride. Solace Tatum would rather die than be known as a ‘Billion Dollar’ champion. She made the right choice.

But you, Oswald?

You just can’t ever seem to make the right choice, can you? You’re as hot as you’ve been in YEARS, and still there is no sizzle to your sauce. You’re still riding high from your win over Demos….it’s the most impressive win you’ve had in years…..so why did you choose to bring all that ‘momentum’ to a screeching halt? Why did you choose to enter into a match you never had a hope of winning?

Your win over Demos is nothing impressive, you should know this better than anyone. You say it all the time: Demos isn’t impressive, he’s not an icon, he’s not a star. He’s just another coward hiding behind a mask. So what does a victory over Demos qualify you for? Do you and Rel get to share Demos come nightfall? Is that what a victory over the Demos earns you, a gaped asshole and a mouthful of cock? Neither you nor Rel Dixon will ever hold a briefcase. One victory over Demos simply doesn’t cut it at this stage of the game.

What, you were once a legitimate champion? Weren’t we all. But you were a champion in the age of Peter Gilmour, Jim Caedus, and Shane . I was a champion in the age of Sarah Lacklan, Robert Main, and Thunder Knuckles.

I was the GREATEST champion of all time in my division. How about you, Oswald? Did you set any records with your reigns?

Didn’t think so.

You had plenty of chances back when the federation was filled with Gilmours and Caedus’s….but now? Now you’re stuck clinging to fake title, trying to make it matter, and failing every step of the way.

So quit your yapping, mutt!

Thrax growled at the empty locker before walking away from it. Thrax begins to walk down a row of empty walkers before he suddenly stops and turns to look inside one of them.

Oh, well what do we have here?

Thrax approached the empty locker before poking his head into it while gazing downwards.

Do you think your snarling is convincing? Intimidating, even?

It seems we have a classic case of big dog syndrome.

The runt of the litter always has the nastiest attitude. But I can’t fault you for wishing to mark your territory and make your presence known….if you weren’t so loudly braggadocious, would anyone even remember your accomplishments?

Of course they would, you're a five time tag team champion, after all. But would they respect your accomplishments? Or would they simply be dismissed as victories over the likes of Peter Gilmour and Scully? When people look at Chris Chaos....what do they see? Do they see one of the most decorated wrestlers in our business, or do they see a narcissist too busy ego tripping to make the XWF touring schedule?

We both know the answer to that question, so what do you think growling and barking is going to change? The more you run your jaws the less we missed you. It is easy to miss someone when they're absent: you just think of all the good times you had, of all the successfully and joyous moments. But when they come back to you?


Thrax shakes his head from side to side.

They're nothing like you imagined they were. They are EXACTLY like you remembered them to be. All their flaws, all their deficiencies, they're shoved straight into your face the moment the absent becomes the present. Chaos seems intent to shove them all in your face just a little bit harder than most.

But it won't make a difference. In the end, it never does.

The stronger hound always wins the dogfight, no matter which mutt barked more in their cages. So keep on barking, Chris Chaos. Maybe someone will care about you enough to adopt you one day...

Thrax turned to walk away from the locker room before pulling himself back to it.

Actually, on second thought....no one deserves to hear your endless yapping!

The ears of Thrax's cloak shot into the empty locker like the claws of a praying mantis, making two quick snips of an invisible object before Thrax. A quiet'YIP!'
shot out from the locker as the cloak stabbed into...something. Thrax grinned at the empty locker room as he caressed the left ear of his cloak.

What a good boy....

Blood began to pool at the bottom of the locker as Thrax stepped away from it.

Now.....to deal with you.

Thrax walked down the set of lockers until he was at the last locker in the row. Thrax turned to face the empty locker as he crossed his arms over his chest.

You sure do scream a lot, don't you, Caedus? About anything and everything, you screech like a banshee endlessly. No topic is too minute, too irrelevant, or too far off course for Caedus. He just loves to hear his own voice. It doesn't matter to him if the words are logical or consistent with reality: all that matters is that Caedus said them. Isn't that right?

Thrax chuckled to himself as he removed his arms from his chest. Thrax put his hands on either side of the locker as he looked down at the empty space beneath him.

I know why you scream so endlessly, Caedus.

You're a dying dog. I'm surprised you're not dead already.

Your star has long since faded, the paychecks stopped arriving in your mailbox years ago. How has your life been since you left the XWF?

I notice it's a topic you tend to stray away from, but from the shadows, I see everything.

You would rather live in the past than embrace the present. I would too, if I were you. If my future were as bleak as yours I too would feel the urge to scream, to cry, to go all out. But it won't matter. In the end, it never does. My victims have always given me their best, they've always fought my will tooth and nail. But you, Caedus? You haven't had enough money to see a dentist in years. What teeth do you have left to bite me with? When your piss stained canines meet my flesh they will rip themselves from your jaw in shame.

You have always been a fool, but now, you've been reduced to a beggar. You've been subsisting on table scraps since your money dried up in 2018. For a few golden years you had more dollars that sense. But now? Years of poor decisions and no planning has left you stranded on the ocean of life with no fuel in your boat and no service on your cellphone. You've been living life at the fringe of society ever since the XWF moved on from you. You've grown desperate.

And out of desperation grows obedience.

So it is no surprise that as soon as Loverboy Lane called you answered on the first ring. When he offered you a job you told him you'd do ANYTHING to keep a spot on the roster. Ever since that day you've been licking Lane's boots and embracing his flatulence. You NEED the 'Bossman' to like you. Without the approval of your 'Bossman' you will be right back on those streets, living in your van down by the river!

When Vinnie Lane says jump, Jim Caedus asks how high. When Vinnie Lane says bend over, Caedus only asks whether or not he should spread his cheeks to allow Lane an easier time with those pesky contractual obligations.

I may be scarred and disfigured, but you Caedus, YOU are the truly unrecognizable one. You are the one who has changed.

Where is the Jim Caedus from years ago who was his own man? Where is the Jim Caedus who earned his spot in the top 10 of all time? Where is the outlaw Jim Caedus that gave no fucks and left no survivors?

We haven't seen him in years! Now all we're left with is a prissy Sheriff's Deputy that spends more time sucking off corporate executives than actually wrestling!

It's true, Caedus. You have LITERALLY spent more time in the past year talking about how great, powerful, and strong Vinnie Lane is than you have spent wrestling!

So why are you screaming at such a fever pitch? Why do you demand to be taken so seriously? Why do you seem so content to talk the talk when you could have been walking the walk for months?


Thrax kneels down as he stares straight ahead, as if making eye contact with something inside of the open locker.

I know why. You do, too.

Jim Caedus simply doesn't have -it- anymore. It's been years since he's been in the gym, let alone the ring. Even the dead man walking has more XWF victories this decade than Caedus!

Caedus's plan is to talk a big game so that way no one looks his way when the actual bell rings. He wants all the top dogs to steer clear off him, to give him space, breadth. He wants to be able to fight at his pace, against who he wants, when he wants to. Then, when he loses, he can simply say he was so busy kicking ass that he completely forgot to grab the briefcase. It would be a believable enough excuse, right? This is a ten man match. There are so many competitors going up to the moon that they're going to be lost in the crowd, and anyone could wind up coming down with that briefcase. Just because Jim isn't going to walk away with the briefcase doesn't mean he's a loser, it doesn't mean he can't go the distance anymore....right?

That's what Caedus is hoping for. That's the illusion, that's the narrative Vinnie Lane is helping him so desperately craft.

But maybe, Caedus.....maybe it won't be a ten man match after all. Isn't that right?

Thrax grinned at the invisible dog as he let the question linger for a moment.

You think you've picked up on something no one else in this match has. You think you've uncovered some sort of scandalous secret. Even if your body is going by the wayside, your mental faculties are as sharp as ever....or so you like to think. You put your nose to the ground and you followed the trail all the way home. You caught the culprit red handed, didn't you?

Thrax's smirk grew as the ears of his cape shook slightly.

So why don't you say it with your chest, little man?

Thrax cocked his head to the side as if awaiting a response. When none came he returned to his normative kneeling posture.

Are you not confident in your abilities? Perhaps you're wise to hedge your bets. You're a mutt, not a bloodhound.

But still, Caedus.....why play such childish games? If you think you know the truth why not simply SPEAK IT to existence, and force my shadow to evaporate off the wall?

Why hide behind illusion and false ink? Why hide behind vague subtleties?

Go on, Caedus.......we both know you THINK you've figured it all out.

Why don't you tell the whole world exactly who, or perhaps WHAT, I am?

Thrax leaned his face into the locker room and squinted his eyes at the non-existent dog in a cage. The tops of the hellspawn's crimson cloak narrowed towards each other as they pointed menacingly towards the wooden lock.

I'm waiting.

[Image: bFUi3wA.png]
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