Post by Gein on Jan 28, 2007 15:03:19 GMT -5
Upcoming Match Date: January 29th, 2007
Upcoming Match Opponent(s): “The Beast” Convict -Debut-
Match Type: Cage -Main Event-
Titles Holding: None
RP No: 1-Posted in two parts due to exceeding the maximum character length for one post.-[/i]
Date: January 25th, 2007
Time: 11:40pm
A violent grumble purred into sound, thoughtlessly shattering the deafening silence which once tainted the frost bitten January eve, it’s petulant rage only to become all the more fierce with every agonizing second that carelessly slipped by, striking down the terrified hearts of those that had so innocently heard it. The docile night had been painted with an assortment twinkling stars, gently speckling it with life as a herd of thick grey clouds began to tumble forward, instantly bullying them back into a realm of darkness as they moved forward, their Machiavellian hearts continuing to thrive as a sickening flash sparks into sight, lighting the sky brighter than any star… before fading from existence like it had never been there in the first place.
The streets had been stripped bare of any life, no living soul able to dare enter to dark abyss of the unknowing night as the first speck of rain crashes to the ground below, it’s death only to starts that of a massacre as one by one an army of tears flood from the heavens above, instantly crashing to the concrete below, it’s death to go in vain as it weeps its bloodshed diligently… drowning it silently as yet another grumble echoes into audible clarity, a brighter flash only to follow as the camera begins to sweep it’s invasive lens around the barren environment. There had been an assortment of trees which hung dead in place, it’s lifeless branches only to be tenuously played with by the shrieking wind which spurred into life but every few moments, passing teasingly past the objects which stood in its way, before picking up it’s speed and crashing violently into them… attempting to knock anything from where it stood. A long decaying metal fence bowed to the floor, rusting in old age as it weakly tried to protect the building which had been set back from any proper view, no houses had surrounded it, and the street had been emptied for years now. Only the gravel path which solemnly took you to the large metal door of the obscure building would remain, taking you to a new destiny, or to your unknowing death.
A blanket of rain now filed through the air obediently, degenerately obscuring the view of the peering lens as it begins to move away from the view of the building, casting itself back onto the emptied street once more as the ferocious growls of the horrid night bursts into life once more, the rain only to fall harder from the clouds above as the frightening flash fills the sky once more, a sickening shade of red only to taint it murderously as a figure swoops past the lens… catching the camera off guard, fumbling back in surprise.
A moment flashes by as the camera begins to stand sturdy once more, it’s inquisitive lens only to now trace back to the place of interruption as it depicts the flurried view of a figure, masked by the overwhelming rain, it was unable to note the defining features of what looked like a man. His broad shoulders were hunched, his head only to burry deep beneath them as his hands were dug deep into pockets of his long black coat, sheltering them from the bitter cold which stung the air crudely. It didn’t take long for his perfectly long strides to lead him up the gravel trail toward the building which had been seen before, as he stops but a few inches away from the door which concealed it’s contents from the invasive eyes of all those that would dare to past it. He began to reluctantly pull his right hand from the grave of his pocket, his thick muscular fingers only to slowly coil into a fist as he rests his white knuckles onto the door, the surging cold of the steel door having no time to mark his body as he wraps upon the door 3 times.
…Knock…
…Knock…
…Knock…
A rectangular hatch which had embedded itself into the door suddenly opened, a pair of vile cold icy blue eyes only to make its self present as the young man brings his hand slowly back to his pocket, burring it deep once more… before lifting his head gradually and meeting with those unforgiving eyes that protected themselves behind the prominent door before them.
His voice had broken the tense silence with an assured tone, almost barking at the person which continued to stare blankly at the drowned figure before them. Although his voice was firm, even rough… it was tainted with a sickening dose of softness. The ice blue eyes begin to glaze over, a tormented sigh only to wisp into sound as a much more gruff voice swirls into the air.
The young man takes no time to answer; his eyes still locking with the guard in front of him as he spoke.
He allows but a small smile to peek into the corners of his beaten lips, his body only to hold strong and firm as he remains stood in his spot. The guard arches an uneven brown right eyebrow to the young man as he pulled himself away from the hatch slightly, looking up and down the figure silently but for only a few moments, before speaking once more. His tone harsher than it had been earlier.
The unknown man quickly cut him from his sentence as he allows his own voice to slice into action, taking his dominance back once more.
The guard’s eyes look toward him uneasily, bemused by the tone of his voice as he begins to scan the face of the man before him, noting the strong chiseled bone structure of his chin and facial features, the gossamer grey eyes that sat back in his eyes sockets, looking all the more cold and cruel. He laughs…[/color]
I smiled firmly toward him, shaking the wet coat from around my shoulders before walking up toward the dark wooden desk of Jack Dalton. He looked the same as ever, his upper body wrapped lovingly by a long sleeved blue shirt, its collar opened for comfort as he turned up the ends of his sleeves to meet with the creases in his arm. Long black braces only to cling to his shoulders, holding up the black pin striped trousers which surely accompanied his legs which were hidden under the desk before me. His face was as old as ever, the detruding wrinkles continuing to invade his once perfect face, cutting deep into the skin under his eyes as his raven black hair had now become riddled with patches of sleek silver. Time had certainly taken its toll upon the old man; I’m not surprised in the business he threw himself into.
I solemnly approach one of the black leather seats which sat just a few inches in front of his domineering desk, gently draping my soaked coat onto the back of the chair gently, before pushing myself forward and greeting him properly for the first time. His large clammy hand would meet instantly with mine as his fingers coil around my hand, before allowing his rich American accent to taint the room once more.
There wasn’t an ounce of concern in his voice, but it was relieving to me to know that he wasn’t in one of his moods where the picture of his model bride would be thrown at the back of my head when I wasn’t looking. I just let a smile peek onto my thin pink lips innocently, the newly found cut to my lip only to weep slightly
He laughed rather amused by my attitude as he lets go off my hand, allowing me time to tend to my lip as I wipe the remaining blood from upon them onto the white sleeve of my shirt. I know Jessie wouldn’t be too happy with the fact I’ve probably stained yet another new shirt. I’ve known her for well over 2 years now, and she was as feisty as ever, she was more of a babysitter than anything, always bailing me out of trouble and looking over me as any mother would… You wouldn’t think she was my damn housekeeper.
I had stumbled back those few inches from Jack’s desk, into the chair that continued to cradle my coat; landing ass first into it, I immediately make myself comfortable… getting ready for the long ass meeting Jack had surely planned for us.
I watched as he sunk back into his large leather recliner, almost looking as though his body was slowly being digested by the beast. He wasn’t a big man, rather scrawny, yet.. looks can be deceiving. When I had first met Jack, it was when I had accidentally run into the wrong crowd, being the youth that I was, I didn’t take anything from anybody. He set me straight. I owed this man a lot, and he knew it… s’why I was here.
He held out a small silver cigar holder, one in which he received on his 40th birthday some years back from my mother. She had always appreciated the time and effort he put into looking after me when my father wasn’t around any longer, she said I needed a strong male figure in my life, and Jack was the man to do it. Although they never got together, she loved him, even until the day she died; she cared… just as he did for her. Since then, I’ve never seen him without the damn thing, he keeps it close to him at all times. I allow a “thanks, but no thanks” smile to approach my lips, shaking my head slightly as I hold my right hand up for but only a moment.
He laughed heartedly, pulling the box back to himself happily as he placed his hand into the silver container with a certain composure, plucking free the first helpless cigar from it’s resting place with his left hand, as his right quickly snaps shut the silver lid, concealing it from any unexpected takers as he slowly places it into the left breast pocket.
By this time I had watched him smoothly work the cigar toward his desperate lips, gradually parting them wide enough to fit the thick cylinder type object between them, as they quickly grasped them firmly in place, whilst Jack tended to finding the silver petrol lighter which rested contently upon his desk top.
I leant back further in my seat, my rather muscular arms only to now work their way from the sides of the seat up toward my chest, folding almost instinctively, as I snuggle down further into my seat, making myself all the more at home as my gossamer eyes meet with the now flickering flames of Jack’s pristine silver lighter. He brought it to the free tip of the cigar, teasingly passing it by smoothly before forcing it into a hell of flames; igniting the tip cruelly, before closing the lid to his lighter, and throwing it thoughtlessly back onto the desk once more. He moved his right hand toward the cigar, his large index finger and thumb only to pluck it from the prison of his lips, after taking a deep and longing breath, the poisonous smoke only to enter his lungs carelessly as he himself leans back further into his chair, relaxing properly for the first time, as he rests his elbow onto the arm rest of his recliner, his right arm held high into the air as he continues to grasp the helpless cigar in his hand… a blanket of smoke only to eventually escape his blackened lungs as he speaks with a calm and relaxed tone…a lot pleasant than the one I had been listening to for the past few moments.
I look toward him uneasily, tilting my head ever so slightly to the right of myself, as I begin to think of all the possible jobs/reasons he had me here for. Then it hit me, I thought he knew. That’s why I had been missing for almost 4 months, I had to lay low long enough to get the heat shaken from me. I spoke up with a tone of surprise and anger.
He had leant forward by this time, the cigar only to remain entrapped by his fingers, as he peels his elbow from the arm rest of his chair and rests it back onto his desk, his body only to hunch over as he cut me from my sentence.
He slowly brought the cigar back to his mouth once more, his chest only to rise instantly once it had met his lips… taking yet another deep drag upon on the dark brown cigar, before plucking it from his lips once more and bringing it back away from his face… only this time he brought it down toward the desk and placed the cigar into a pristine crystal glass ashtray, leaving it there alone for but a moment or two as he placed his large hands onto the desk and pushed himself back on his leather recliner, instantly stopping himself as he got but an inch or so away from the desk as he leant down slightly to a draw that was attached to the lower part of the desk.
He opens it with his left hand, the smooth drone sound only to pierce into sound as he fumbles inside it for only a moment. I watched him, intrigued all the more with each pain staking second that passed us by. Less than a minute later, I heard the draw shut once more, smoothly rolling back into place, Jack brings his body back up once more, his left hand only to clasp a beige folder, before throwing it onto the desk before me. He looked to the folder, then to me… signaling me to pick the folder up.
I coyly nudge myself to the end of my seat, unsure of what I’d find on the inside as I lean forward on the edge of my seat, my right hand only to swoop in onto the top of the desk and sweep up the folder from upon it, before bringing it to my lap and gently opening it.
My right eyebrow almost immediately arches at the information before me and the words Jack said so casually all but a few seconds ago. I don’t see how this has much to do with me, I hadn’t wrestled in years, he wouldn’t expect me to join some new federation which has nothing better to do than host some no talent losers. I think for a few moments, allowing the words before me to process deep into my mind, thinking harder and harder… I couldn’t help thinking I was wrong; I knew it actually… so I asked. My eyes still lowered toward the papers in hand.
I slowly peel my eyes from the almost virgin white pieces of paper before me, before gently landing them back onto the old and wrinkled face of Jack, a smile only to creep onto his lips as a child’s look of glee riddled his body… Not good.
He flashed me one of those cheeky grins. You know the type? The type where you would like to do nothing more than wipe it from their smug face. I watched him gradually got up from the comfort of his chair… confusion only to slowly overwhelm all my senses. I didn’t see why he wanted me in this damn federation, I’m to show up for my match and win? Who the hell was I facing anyways?
With that thought I quickly look back down toward the papers once more, my dark eyes scanning past all the other details in front of me… before finding the one thing I was looking for. [/color]
My eyes tear despairingly away from the papers, almost landing directly upon the figure of Jack Dalton whom at this time had decided to go quit on the matter, his back turned directly toward me, as if to try and avoid any persuasions of me getting myself out of this. He stood casually, his hands clasped together begin his back as his eyes remain glued upon the view of the outside, seeming to enjoy every moment of carnage as the wind and rain continued to battle against the world. I started to fidget on my seat, agitated greatly by the matter he’d presented to me. I spoke up, not picking my words before I uttered them.
I knew deep down that Jack couldn’t give two fucks what I wanted to do or not, what I did years ago. He wasn’t the type to think of the possible outcomes for those involved, just himself… Ever since the day I met him, I learnt very early on that he acted first, asked questions later.
I watched in complete confusion and annoyance as he remained calm, his eyes continuing to scan over the barren environment before him… before allowing his smooth and strong Yankee accent to flood the room once more.
He slowly turned back smoothly to meet with my eyes once more, a vile smile only to slowly chastise his thin pale lips. I just look to him, disgusted by his mere presence. For 3 years now I had been in his debt, doing odd jobs here and there which affected my life pretty in every single way. I shook my head slightly in disbelief, gently pulling my eyes away from him. The fucking cunt knew I wanted to retire, I wasn’t the boy/man he knew years ago. Jessie had changed everything for me, and here he was, telling me I have to get back into something I didn’t have the desire to do anymore?
A sigh clumsily escapes me as I begin to run all the possible outcomes in my head. What if I did face Convict? What are a few bruises and another victory under my belt? Heck, maybe I can leave afterwards. I don’t know what he had planned for me, but I just needed to know one thing.
Jack’s face lights up, his laugh only to break deep and whole heartedly into sound, as though mocking me as he begins to pull himself away from the window… back to his leather recliner in which I had first seen him in.
He leans forward gently on his chair, his right hand only to pull itself from under the table as he reaches for the cigar once more. He had a point, when Jack asked you to do something, you did it, no one lived to tell of his consequences and I wasn’t willing to double cross the man anytime soon. I watch as he plucks the cigar from the ash ridden ashtray, pulling back, he leans back into his leather recliner, his attention turned away from me as he looks to a portrait of himself on the other side of the room, admiring it for but only a few moments as he takes a drag upon the cigar once more, the room only to be filled with a waterfall of smoke as he unleashes it. He quickly turns to face me once more, a smile filing in obediently onto his face, smug but malicious as it beams mockingly toward me. He speaks.
I search his face for truth in his words. He wasn’t lying, you could tell. I look back down toward the folder once more, remembering the information that riddled the paper. “Convict”… he wasn’t a man to be taken lightly. I’ve heard rumors from another federation that he was apart of, he was… -how shall I put it- A “beast” in the ring. But with every “beast” there’s a weapon that can bring it down.
I glance back up toward Jack; his body was still hunched over the desk, his right elbow keeping him prompt up in position as the cigar remained trapped between his large fingers. I smile. My answer only to flow assured of itself.
Upcoming Match Opponent(s): “The Beast” Convict -Debut-
Match Type: Cage -Main Event-
Titles Holding: None
RP No: 1-Posted in two parts due to exceeding the maximum character length for one post.-[/i]
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Date: January 25th, 2007
Time: 11:40pm
If there’s one thing which makes me different to the rest of you, makes me stronger, makes me harder to understand. It’s that I make my life my own. I don’t let the trivial inconvenience of destiny to work me into the world; I let destiny work around me, allowing you insignificant scum to have some kind of existence. I bet I’d be right in saying that you’ve all at some point looked back over you life, trying to figure out what key events landed you in the hell hole you call a home, the life you’re forced to lead… and the hopes which come with it. What is God’s purpose for you? What is the meaning of life? I bet with every dime which sits idle in my back pocket, I bet you’ve wracked your brains just thinking about it, why your life seems to mean nothing at all. I bet with those same dimes that you’ve even saw that crazed gypsy, hoping maybe even she could tell you..
You see, I tend not to allow my life to be devoured by such things, I know the meaning of life; I understand it and I accept it. Whether you disagree with me, and believe our future is carved before we’re born doesn’t bother me, it’s just another issue for your shrink. I don’t mind letting you continue to stumble back and forth, your head hitting every hard obstacle that comes your way every few steps… until you fucking wake up from your little dream and realize that we make our own destinies, we make our own lives. There is no heaven, there is no greater being, there is no God. Just the hell we’ve been left to fight on.
One thing’s for certain and one thing only. The only way we’ll ever be able to escape is when our bodies are limp, lifeless… cold…
Death comes for us all at some point in our lives… some sooner than later.
You see, I tend not to allow my life to be devoured by such things, I know the meaning of life; I understand it and I accept it. Whether you disagree with me, and believe our future is carved before we’re born doesn’t bother me, it’s just another issue for your shrink. I don’t mind letting you continue to stumble back and forth, your head hitting every hard obstacle that comes your way every few steps… until you fucking wake up from your little dream and realize that we make our own destinies, we make our own lives. There is no heaven, there is no greater being, there is no God. Just the hell we’ve been left to fight on.
One thing’s for certain and one thing only. The only way we’ll ever be able to escape is when our bodies are limp, lifeless… cold…
Death comes for us all at some point in our lives… some sooner than later.
-V- ...The Shadows Are Awaiting Thee…-V-
A violent grumble purred into sound, thoughtlessly shattering the deafening silence which once tainted the frost bitten January eve, it’s petulant rage only to become all the more fierce with every agonizing second that carelessly slipped by, striking down the terrified hearts of those that had so innocently heard it. The docile night had been painted with an assortment twinkling stars, gently speckling it with life as a herd of thick grey clouds began to tumble forward, instantly bullying them back into a realm of darkness as they moved forward, their Machiavellian hearts continuing to thrive as a sickening flash sparks into sight, lighting the sky brighter than any star… before fading from existence like it had never been there in the first place.
The streets had been stripped bare of any life, no living soul able to dare enter to dark abyss of the unknowing night as the first speck of rain crashes to the ground below, it’s death only to starts that of a massacre as one by one an army of tears flood from the heavens above, instantly crashing to the concrete below, it’s death to go in vain as it weeps its bloodshed diligently… drowning it silently as yet another grumble echoes into audible clarity, a brighter flash only to follow as the camera begins to sweep it’s invasive lens around the barren environment. There had been an assortment of trees which hung dead in place, it’s lifeless branches only to be tenuously played with by the shrieking wind which spurred into life but every few moments, passing teasingly past the objects which stood in its way, before picking up it’s speed and crashing violently into them… attempting to knock anything from where it stood. A long decaying metal fence bowed to the floor, rusting in old age as it weakly tried to protect the building which had been set back from any proper view, no houses had surrounded it, and the street had been emptied for years now. Only the gravel path which solemnly took you to the large metal door of the obscure building would remain, taking you to a new destiny, or to your unknowing death.
A blanket of rain now filed through the air obediently, degenerately obscuring the view of the peering lens as it begins to move away from the view of the building, casting itself back onto the emptied street once more as the ferocious growls of the horrid night bursts into life once more, the rain only to fall harder from the clouds above as the frightening flash fills the sky once more, a sickening shade of red only to taint it murderously as a figure swoops past the lens… catching the camera off guard, fumbling back in surprise.
A moment flashes by as the camera begins to stand sturdy once more, it’s inquisitive lens only to now trace back to the place of interruption as it depicts the flurried view of a figure, masked by the overwhelming rain, it was unable to note the defining features of what looked like a man. His broad shoulders were hunched, his head only to burry deep beneath them as his hands were dug deep into pockets of his long black coat, sheltering them from the bitter cold which stung the air crudely. It didn’t take long for his perfectly long strides to lead him up the gravel trail toward the building which had been seen before, as he stops but a few inches away from the door which concealed it’s contents from the invasive eyes of all those that would dare to past it. He began to reluctantly pull his right hand from the grave of his pocket, his thick muscular fingers only to slowly coil into a fist as he rests his white knuckles onto the door, the surging cold of the steel door having no time to mark his body as he wraps upon the door 3 times.
…Knock…
…Knock…
…Knock…
A rectangular hatch which had embedded itself into the door suddenly opened, a pair of vile cold icy blue eyes only to make its self present as the young man brings his hand slowly back to his pocket, burring it deep once more… before lifting his head gradually and meeting with those unforgiving eyes that protected themselves behind the prominent door before them.
The Enigma: “I’m here to see Jack.”
His voice had broken the tense silence with an assured tone, almost barking at the person which continued to stare blankly at the drowned figure before them. Although his voice was firm, even rough… it was tainted with a sickening dose of softness. The ice blue eyes begin to glaze over, a tormented sigh only to wisp into sound as a much more gruff voice swirls into the air.
Guard: “He’s busy. Who’s asking?”
[/color]The young man takes no time to answer; his eyes still locking with the guard in front of him as he spoke.
The Enigma: “A friend.”
[/color]He allows but a small smile to peek into the corners of his beaten lips, his body only to hold strong and firm as he remains stood in his spot. The guard arches an uneven brown right eyebrow to the young man as he pulled himself away from the hatch slightly, looking up and down the figure silently but for only a few moments, before speaking once more. His tone harsher than it had been earlier.
Guard: “That’s not going to cut it. He said no vis-”
[/color]The unknown man quickly cut him from his sentence as he allows his own voice to slice into action, taking his dominance back once more.
The Enigma: “Either you let me in, or I’ll let myself in.”
[/color]The guard’s eyes look toward him uneasily, bemused by the tone of his voice as he begins to scan the face of the man before him, noting the strong chiseled bone structure of his chin and facial features, the gossamer grey eyes that sat back in his eyes sockets, looking all the more cold and cruel. He laughs…[/color]
-V- The Scene Fades To Black
[/u]–V-[/b][/center]Voice: “If it isn’t my old pal, Damien.”
I smiled firmly toward him, shaking the wet coat from around my shoulders before walking up toward the dark wooden desk of Jack Dalton. He looked the same as ever, his upper body wrapped lovingly by a long sleeved blue shirt, its collar opened for comfort as he turned up the ends of his sleeves to meet with the creases in his arm. Long black braces only to cling to his shoulders, holding up the black pin striped trousers which surely accompanied his legs which were hidden under the desk before me. His face was as old as ever, the detruding wrinkles continuing to invade his once perfect face, cutting deep into the skin under his eyes as his raven black hair had now become riddled with patches of sleek silver. Time had certainly taken its toll upon the old man; I’m not surprised in the business he threw himself into.
I solemnly approach one of the black leather seats which sat just a few inches in front of his domineering desk, gently draping my soaked coat onto the back of the chair gently, before pushing myself forward and greeting him properly for the first time. His large clammy hand would meet instantly with mine as his fingers coil around my hand, before allowing his rich American accent to taint the room once more.
Jack: “I hope Phil didn’t cause you too much trouble.”
There wasn’t an ounce of concern in his voice, but it was relieving to me to know that he wasn’t in one of his moods where the picture of his model bride would be thrown at the back of my head when I wasn’t looking. I just let a smile peek onto my thin pink lips innocently, the newly found cut to my lip only to weep slightly
Damien Gein: “None at all.”
He laughed rather amused by my attitude as he lets go off my hand, allowing me time to tend to my lip as I wipe the remaining blood from upon them onto the white sleeve of my shirt. I know Jessie wouldn’t be too happy with the fact I’ve probably stained yet another new shirt. I’ve known her for well over 2 years now, and she was as feisty as ever, she was more of a babysitter than anything, always bailing me out of trouble and looking over me as any mother would… You wouldn’t think she was my damn housekeeper.
I had stumbled back those few inches from Jack’s desk, into the chair that continued to cradle my coat; landing ass first into it, I immediately make myself comfortable… getting ready for the long ass meeting Jack had surely planned for us.
I watched as he sunk back into his large leather recliner, almost looking as though his body was slowly being digested by the beast. He wasn’t a big man, rather scrawny, yet.. looks can be deceiving. When I had first met Jack, it was when I had accidentally run into the wrong crowd, being the youth that I was, I didn’t take anything from anybody. He set me straight. I owed this man a lot, and he knew it… s’why I was here.
Jack: “Cigar?”
He held out a small silver cigar holder, one in which he received on his 40th birthday some years back from my mother. She had always appreciated the time and effort he put into looking after me when my father wasn’t around any longer, she said I needed a strong male figure in my life, and Jack was the man to do it. Although they never got together, she loved him, even until the day she died; she cared… just as he did for her. Since then, I’ve never seen him without the damn thing, he keeps it close to him at all times. I allow a “thanks, but no thanks” smile to approach my lips, shaking my head slightly as I hold my right hand up for but only a moment.
Damien Gein: “I promised Jessie.”
He laughed heartedly, pulling the box back to himself happily as he placed his hand into the silver container with a certain composure, plucking free the first helpless cigar from it’s resting place with his left hand, as his right quickly snaps shut the silver lid, concealing it from any unexpected takers as he slowly places it into the left breast pocket.
Jack: “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear that both you and little Miss. Jones were married. Heck, you could say you were… naggings and no sex? Welcome to the married life my friend.”
By this time I had watched him smoothly work the cigar toward his desperate lips, gradually parting them wide enough to fit the thick cylinder type object between them, as they quickly grasped them firmly in place, whilst Jack tended to finding the silver petrol lighter which rested contently upon his desk top.
Damien Gein: “So, what’s so God damn important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow morning?”
I leant back further in my seat, my rather muscular arms only to now work their way from the sides of the seat up toward my chest, folding almost instinctively, as I snuggle down further into my seat, making myself all the more at home as my gossamer eyes meet with the now flickering flames of Jack’s pristine silver lighter. He brought it to the free tip of the cigar, teasingly passing it by smoothly before forcing it into a hell of flames; igniting the tip cruelly, before closing the lid to his lighter, and throwing it thoughtlessly back onto the desk once more. He moved his right hand toward the cigar, his large index finger and thumb only to pluck it from the prison of his lips, after taking a deep and longing breath, the poisonous smoke only to enter his lungs carelessly as he himself leans back further into his chair, relaxing properly for the first time, as he rests his elbow onto the arm rest of his recliner, his right arm held high into the air as he continues to grasp the helpless cigar in his hand… a blanket of smoke only to eventually escape his blackened lungs as he speaks with a calm and relaxed tone…a lot pleasant than the one I had been listening to for the past few moments.
Jack: “I’ve got you a job.”
I look toward him uneasily, tilting my head ever so slightly to the right of myself, as I begin to think of all the possible jobs/reasons he had me here for. Then it hit me, I thought he knew. That’s why I had been missing for almost 4 months, I had to lay low long enough to get the heat shaken from me. I spoke up with a tone of surprise and anger.
Damien Gein: “A job? I told you I wasn’t into tha-”
He had leant forward by this time, the cigar only to remain entrapped by his fingers, as he peels his elbow from the arm rest of his chair and rests it back onto his desk, his body only to hunch over as he cut me from my sentence.
Jack: “… Not that kind.”
He slowly brought the cigar back to his mouth once more, his chest only to rise instantly once it had met his lips… taking yet another deep drag upon on the dark brown cigar, before plucking it from his lips once more and bringing it back away from his face… only this time he brought it down toward the desk and placed the cigar into a pristine crystal glass ashtray, leaving it there alone for but a moment or two as he placed his large hands onto the desk and pushed himself back on his leather recliner, instantly stopping himself as he got but an inch or so away from the desk as he leant down slightly to a draw that was attached to the lower part of the desk.
He opens it with his left hand, the smooth drone sound only to pierce into sound as he fumbles inside it for only a moment. I watched him, intrigued all the more with each pain staking second that passed us by. Less than a minute later, I heard the draw shut once more, smoothly rolling back into place, Jack brings his body back up once more, his left hand only to clasp a beige folder, before throwing it onto the desk before me. He looked to the folder, then to me… signaling me to pick the folder up.
I coyly nudge myself to the end of my seat, unsure of what I’d find on the inside as I lean forward on the edge of my seat, my right hand only to swoop in onto the top of the desk and sweep up the folder from upon it, before bringing it to my lap and gently opening it.
Jack: “XVI: Xtreme Vicious something or other. It’s a new wrestling federation, I thought you might be interested.”
My right eyebrow almost immediately arches at the information before me and the words Jack said so casually all but a few seconds ago. I don’t see how this has much to do with me, I hadn’t wrestled in years, he wouldn’t expect me to join some new federation which has nothing better to do than host some no talent losers. I think for a few moments, allowing the words before me to process deep into my mind, thinking harder and harder… I couldn’t help thinking I was wrong; I knew it actually… so I asked. My eyes still lowered toward the papers in hand.
Damien Gein: “You expect me to join this place?”
I slowly peel my eyes from the almost virgin white pieces of paper before me, before gently landing them back onto the old and wrinkled face of Jack, a smile only to creep onto his lips as a child’s look of glee riddled his body… Not good.
Jack: “No. I expect you to show up for your match and win.”
He flashed me one of those cheeky grins. You know the type? The type where you would like to do nothing more than wipe it from their smug face. I watched him gradually got up from the comfort of his chair… confusion only to slowly overwhelm all my senses. I didn’t see why he wanted me in this damn federation, I’m to show up for my match and win? Who the hell was I facing anyways?
With that thought I quickly look back down toward the papers once more, my dark eyes scanning past all the other details in front of me… before finding the one thing I was looking for. [/color]
Main Event
Cage Match
Round 1 Tournament
Damien vs Convict
[/b]Cage Match
Round 1 Tournament
Damien vs Convict
My eyes tear despairingly away from the papers, almost landing directly upon the figure of Jack Dalton whom at this time had decided to go quit on the matter, his back turned directly toward me, as if to try and avoid any persuasions of me getting myself out of this. He stood casually, his hands clasped together begin his back as his eyes remain glued upon the view of the outside, seeming to enjoy every moment of carnage as the wind and rain continued to battle against the world. I started to fidget on my seat, agitated greatly by the matter he’d presented to me. I spoke up, not picking my words before I uttered them.
Damien Gein: “You have some fucking nerve, Jack. You know for a God damn fact I got out of the wrestling business years ago… I told you I didn’t want to ever go back!”
I knew deep down that Jack couldn’t give two fucks what I wanted to do or not, what I did years ago. He wasn’t the type to think of the possible outcomes for those involved, just himself… Ever since the day I met him, I learnt very early on that he acted first, asked questions later.
I watched in complete confusion and annoyance as he remained calm, his eyes continuing to scan over the barren environment before him… before allowing his smooth and strong Yankee accent to flood the room once more.
Jack: “You may have gotten out of it years ago, but you still owe me.”
He slowly turned back smoothly to meet with my eyes once more, a vile smile only to slowly chastise his thin pale lips. I just look to him, disgusted by his mere presence. For 3 years now I had been in his debt, doing odd jobs here and there which affected my life pretty in every single way. I shook my head slightly in disbelief, gently pulling my eyes away from him. The fucking cunt knew I wanted to retire, I wasn’t the boy/man he knew years ago. Jessie had changed everything for me, and here he was, telling me I have to get back into something I didn’t have the desire to do anymore?
A sigh clumsily escapes me as I begin to run all the possible outcomes in my head. What if I did face Convict? What are a few bruises and another victory under my belt? Heck, maybe I can leave afterwards. I don’t know what he had planned for me, but I just needed to know one thing.
Damien Gein: “And if I refuse to do it?”
Jack’s face lights up, his laugh only to break deep and whole heartedly into sound, as though mocking me as he begins to pull himself away from the window… back to his leather recliner in which I had first seen him in.
Jack: “Even you’re not that stupid.”
He leans forward gently on his chair, his right hand only to pull itself from under the table as he reaches for the cigar once more. He had a point, when Jack asked you to do something, you did it, no one lived to tell of his consequences and I wasn’t willing to double cross the man anytime soon. I watch as he plucks the cigar from the ash ridden ashtray, pulling back, he leans back into his leather recliner, his attention turned away from me as he looks to a portrait of himself on the other side of the room, admiring it for but only a few moments as he takes a drag upon the cigar once more, the room only to be filled with a waterfall of smoke as he unleashes it. He quickly turns to face me once more, a smile filing in obediently onto his face, smug but malicious as it beams mockingly toward me. He speaks.
Jack: “I tell you what, Damien. To make you more likely to want to win in this match, I’ll give you something to work for. If you go through with this, I’ll make sure that you’re a free man. I’ll let you live your life with that damn housekeeper of yours, and let you try and lay her like you’ve been trying for over 2 fucking years now..”
I search his face for truth in his words. He wasn’t lying, you could tell. I look back down toward the folder once more, remembering the information that riddled the paper. “Convict”… he wasn’t a man to be taken lightly. I’ve heard rumors from another federation that he was apart of, he was… -how shall I put it- A “beast” in the ring. But with every “beast” there’s a weapon that can bring it down.
Jack: “Do we have a deal?”
I glance back up toward Jack; his body was still hunched over the desk, his right elbow keeping him prompt up in position as the cigar remained trapped between his large fingers. I smile. My answer only to flow assured of itself.
Damien Gein: “Sure, whatever.”
