Post by Jordan "Bullet Proof" Glass on May 22, 2007 12:32:15 GMT -5
| Bury me standing under your window with this cinder block in hand .. |
My poison drip drops from my lips and onto yours, slowly killing you. I smile with bloodied teeth as you lay in my arms, weak breathing, skin cold. Your eyes aren’t fading yet, but it will come. You’re dying here, in my arms .. and it feels good.
Your blood runs through your veins, spreading the malicious liquid throughout your body. It caresses past your lips, over your sultry tongue and down your throat. Your stomach mixes it with acids, then spreads it into your blood to be dispersed.
I push your hair back from your face, and you smile at me, not knowing what I’ve done. I smile, and kiss you tenderly, telling you it’ll be alright. It won’t. It won’t ever be alright again. We’re going to die here tonight. Together, with you in my arms.
I can feel it now, in my blood, seeping from my wounds. My vision gets blurry, and I fall back. You can’t comfort me, you’re almost gone. You look at me and begin to cry, the poison flowing abundant in your tears. I smile stiffly, telling you it’ll be alright.
Death consumes us, we cross the barren void together to the other side, hand in hand, heart in heart. Our souls meld, our spirits bind .. and now you see the true evil inside me.
There is no escaping, my pet. You’re caught in my trap.
Drip Drop, You're Dying.
---
‘The’ room comes into view, and you realize what’s happening. All that was just spoken through the white noise had sounded familiar, but you couldn’t decipher the meaning. Now you realized who’s voice it was who had been speaking to you through the television set. Now you know.
The camera pans slowly, taking in the full effect of the candle-lit room. Around the room are display cases, holding various objects from his past. In one is a black suit with a pink shirt and tie underneath the blazer. A case is held on top of table, and inside it sits a golden ring. You recognize this ring. It was the ring that represented the love for Seraphina which had engulfed Jordan Glass. Also in that case was the matching golden necklace, which no longer hung loosely around the man’s neck.
The camera continues to pan and on the wall, hanging in a display case is Jordan’s copy of his Xtreme Championship. It hadn’t been moved. On the name plate was carved in deep, bold, black lettering was ‘Jordan Glass’. It had been taken from him .. he was no longer the Xtreme Champion. It was Rachel’s title now. He had moved on to bigger and better things.
Hanging on the wall was a moose head, it’s antlers from side to side were at least six feet. Guessing, you would say it signified where he was from, Newfoundland, Canada. The moose ran free there, until they were hunted down and killed by the hunters who wanted their meat for food and their antlers for carving. Beasts humans were, beasts.
Now the camera fell upon the one and only, Jordan ‘Bullet Proof’ Glass. He sat in his red leather chair, wearing his usual black leather trench coat and white muscle shirt underneath. On his feet were his black leather boots and on his legs were a pair of dark navy blue jeans.
On his ring finger the silver ring which he had bought to replace the ring Seraphina had bought him. In the center of this ring was a purple gemstone, glistening in the light of the near hundreds of candles spread around the room. Now, loosely hung in the V of his neck was his silver chain-link necklace.
He smirked as he stared out the window on the far side of the room, watching the invisible sun rays bounce off each object on the other side of the glass. It had been warm lately here in St. John’s, Newfoundland, and Jordan was enjoying the change in temperature.
He reached his right hand over slowly toward the wine-glass that was set on the wooden table beside him, lifted it up, hanging between his first finger and thumb, and solemnly tipped it at his lips, letting the red wine drift past his smooth lips and into his mouth.
He swallowed the wine, then laid the glass back on the table softly. He smiled, still looking out the window.
Jordan ~ It seems, once again, Makaveli has decided to put me in a tough situation. Then again, it wasn’t all him .. it was that bastard Sah’ta Thor as well. He’s the one who got me stuck in this match alongside Jake ‘The Idiot’ Xavier against every stable here in XVI, aside from the inactive Outlaw Inc.
Jordan breathes deeply, letting out a gust of air from his lungs. His smile begins to fade as he continues to speak.
Jordan ~ Not only am I in that match, but I am in the Ultimate Assault match against the full active roster of XVI. Not that I’m worried about that, I know I can beat everyone that will walk into that ring. Hell, I’ve already beaten almost everyone who’ll walk into that ring. It’s not like any of them can stand up to THE Bullet Proof. Most of them will take one damned look at me and run away with their tails between their legs.
Jordan stops for a moment, contemplating something or other. Suddenly, he snaps back to reality and looks down at the lens of the camera, smiling again.
Jordan ~ But hey, that’s for another time. Right now I’m going to focus on the reason I’m here today, and that’s to address The UnNaturals, The Meds and The Unholy Legion.
Jordan pushes himself up off the sofa chair and walks over toward the window. With each step it seems as if he’s gliding across the hardwood flooring. He stops as he reaches the windowsill and gazes out the window.
He looks down at the waterfront that you can clearly see from his high-up mansion. This is one luxury he would never give up, and never wanted to give up. It was something he loved to do, just stare out at the ocean. It was so massive .. anything could be hiding there.
Jordan ~ First, I will address the team of Sah’ta Thor and Shadow.
Firstly, I haven’t seen Shadow around in a while, aside from in the ring. It’s like he gets there, leaves and disappears! I can’t seem to track him down. Not like I’d want to .. But still!
Next off, I’d like to say to Sah’ta Thor .. I’ve beaten you once, I’ve beaten you twice, and here comes the third time. When I put you on my list of wins for the third time, you better hope there isn’t a fourth because if there is, you won’t live past it. I’ll take it easy on you this time around seeing as there are five other men in this match I have to be aware of.
Jordan clears his throat, licks his lips, and blinks a couple times. He squints against the sunlight seeping in through the window.
Jordan ~ Aside from my wins, I’ve seen all your promos. All I can say is, what in the hell? You’re being stalked and talking about raining diamonds and how you and Shadow as the Unholy Legion are just as unnatural as The UnNaturals. I don’t give two shits how unnatural you are, I’m still going to kick you ass come Highway to Hell, you can count on that.
Jordan blinks, then raises his left hand up, scratching his brow. He then returns his hand back to his pocket, and continues talking.
Jordan ~ This brings me to the second pair of freaks of nature in this match, The UnNaturals. Okay .. at your debut on XVI television, you made it rain diamonds .. and then shit?!
Jordan shudders.
Jordan ~ Okay, first off .. that is flat out disgusting. Second, where in the hell do you get off just marching into Xtreme Vicious Intent and saying you’re the best tag team in the company? Last week on Side Effect was your first match, and you lost it! You have absolutely no right to be saying you’re the best tag team in the business.
Jordan smiles now, chuckling under his breath. He spins gracefully on his heel, and begins to slowly pace back towards his leather chair. As he reaches it, he puts his hand into his trench coat pocket and pulls out a box of cigarettes. He pops the box open and pulls one out. He then closes the box and drops it on the mahogany table beside the sofa-chair.
He then spins on his heel again and glides toward the mantle on his limestone fireplace. He places the cigarette over the open flame burning in the wick of the candle, lighting the end of the cancer-stick. He smirks as he blows out the candle, placing the burning cigarette between his two lips.
He spins on his heel one more time and slowly walks back toward his chair, falling down into once he reaches it. He removes the cigarette from his mouth, blowing a thick cloud of smoke out into the cool air of the room.
He reaches out with his left hand, picking up his wine glass and takes another long gulp of the red wine that was sloshing around inside of it. He replaces the glass on the table as he licks his lips clean of the red liquid.
He holds the burning cigarette between his two first fingers as he speaks.
Jordan ~ Now, my final matter of concern .. The Meds. To be truthful, you can’t really call them a matter of concern, seeing as I’m not concerned about them. I’ve beaten Ritalin twice and Prozac once. Jake has beaten Ritalin uncounted times and would have beaten Prozac last week if he had listened to what I have told him .. the fool.
Jordan raises the cigarette to his lips, taking a long drag from it. He then opened his lips just wide enough so that the smoke could slowly pass over them and out into the air. He then took the cigarette away from he mouth and continued speaking.
Jordan ~ It’s not exactly that I am concerned about any of the aforementioned teams .. it’s that I’m worried that Jake and I will not make it to Highway to Hell. But even if we don’t, we have to stick together for that match. I know neither of us want a loss on our records .. well, another loss in Jake’s case. I’m still clenching my perfect record. For all those who say I was defeated, when I lost my Xtreme Championship didn’t count. I, myself, Jordan ‘Bullet Proof’ Glass, was not pinned, therefore I did not lose the match.
Jordan takes another drag from his cigarette before he switched his gaze to the lens of the camera.
His grey eyes drilled you like two diamonds. They shimmered, but at the same time were dead. They were intimidating, but inviting. They were intoxicating, but safe. They were Jordan Glass’ eyes, and they were drilling into your very soul.
Jordan ~ All of you idiots out there who think I can be beaten, better think twice. I cannot be taken down.
I have one last statement for all those who I will face at Highway to Hell, I might as well say the full roster of the XVI.
Jordan slams his cigarette into his forearm, douting it on his skin.
Jordan ~ Needles prick, knives cut .. but glass scars. I’ll scar every last one of you at Highway to Hell. You can put those words in the bank, Makaveli. Their as good as money.
---
We don’t fight fair, we don’t fight fair.
They say your head can be a prison.
Then these are just conjugal visits.
People will dissect us till
This doesn't mean a thing anymore.
Don't pretend you ever forgot about me.
Don't pretend you ever forgot about me.
Fall Out Boy - The Take Over, The Breaks Over
| .. ‘cause no one will ever feel like this again. |
[/b][/i] My poison drip drops from my lips and onto yours, slowly killing you. I smile with bloodied teeth as you lay in my arms, weak breathing, skin cold. Your eyes aren’t fading yet, but it will come. You’re dying here, in my arms .. and it feels good.
Your blood runs through your veins, spreading the malicious liquid throughout your body. It caresses past your lips, over your sultry tongue and down your throat. Your stomach mixes it with acids, then spreads it into your blood to be dispersed.
I push your hair back from your face, and you smile at me, not knowing what I’ve done. I smile, and kiss you tenderly, telling you it’ll be alright. It won’t. It won’t ever be alright again. We’re going to die here tonight. Together, with you in my arms.
I can feel it now, in my blood, seeping from my wounds. My vision gets blurry, and I fall back. You can’t comfort me, you’re almost gone. You look at me and begin to cry, the poison flowing abundant in your tears. I smile stiffly, telling you it’ll be alright.
Death consumes us, we cross the barren void together to the other side, hand in hand, heart in heart. Our souls meld, our spirits bind .. and now you see the true evil inside me.
There is no escaping, my pet. You’re caught in my trap.
Drip Drop, You're Dying.
---
‘The’ room comes into view, and you realize what’s happening. All that was just spoken through the white noise had sounded familiar, but you couldn’t decipher the meaning. Now you realized who’s voice it was who had been speaking to you through the television set. Now you know.
The camera pans slowly, taking in the full effect of the candle-lit room. Around the room are display cases, holding various objects from his past. In one is a black suit with a pink shirt and tie underneath the blazer. A case is held on top of table, and inside it sits a golden ring. You recognize this ring. It was the ring that represented the love for Seraphina which had engulfed Jordan Glass. Also in that case was the matching golden necklace, which no longer hung loosely around the man’s neck.
The camera continues to pan and on the wall, hanging in a display case is Jordan’s copy of his Xtreme Championship. It hadn’t been moved. On the name plate was carved in deep, bold, black lettering was ‘Jordan Glass’. It had been taken from him .. he was no longer the Xtreme Champion. It was Rachel’s title now. He had moved on to bigger and better things.
Hanging on the wall was a moose head, it’s antlers from side to side were at least six feet. Guessing, you would say it signified where he was from, Newfoundland, Canada. The moose ran free there, until they were hunted down and killed by the hunters who wanted their meat for food and their antlers for carving. Beasts humans were, beasts.
Now the camera fell upon the one and only, Jordan ‘Bullet Proof’ Glass. He sat in his red leather chair, wearing his usual black leather trench coat and white muscle shirt underneath. On his feet were his black leather boots and on his legs were a pair of dark navy blue jeans.
On his ring finger the silver ring which he had bought to replace the ring Seraphina had bought him. In the center of this ring was a purple gemstone, glistening in the light of the near hundreds of candles spread around the room. Now, loosely hung in the V of his neck was his silver chain-link necklace.
He smirked as he stared out the window on the far side of the room, watching the invisible sun rays bounce off each object on the other side of the glass. It had been warm lately here in St. John’s, Newfoundland, and Jordan was enjoying the change in temperature.
He reached his right hand over slowly toward the wine-glass that was set on the wooden table beside him, lifted it up, hanging between his first finger and thumb, and solemnly tipped it at his lips, letting the red wine drift past his smooth lips and into his mouth.
He swallowed the wine, then laid the glass back on the table softly. He smiled, still looking out the window.
Jordan ~ It seems, once again, Makaveli has decided to put me in a tough situation. Then again, it wasn’t all him .. it was that bastard Sah’ta Thor as well. He’s the one who got me stuck in this match alongside Jake ‘The Idiot’ Xavier against every stable here in XVI, aside from the inactive Outlaw Inc.
Jordan breathes deeply, letting out a gust of air from his lungs. His smile begins to fade as he continues to speak.
Jordan ~ Not only am I in that match, but I am in the Ultimate Assault match against the full active roster of XVI. Not that I’m worried about that, I know I can beat everyone that will walk into that ring. Hell, I’ve already beaten almost everyone who’ll walk into that ring. It’s not like any of them can stand up to THE Bullet Proof. Most of them will take one damned look at me and run away with their tails between their legs.
Jordan stops for a moment, contemplating something or other. Suddenly, he snaps back to reality and looks down at the lens of the camera, smiling again.
Jordan ~ But hey, that’s for another time. Right now I’m going to focus on the reason I’m here today, and that’s to address The UnNaturals, The Meds and The Unholy Legion.
Jordan pushes himself up off the sofa chair and walks over toward the window. With each step it seems as if he’s gliding across the hardwood flooring. He stops as he reaches the windowsill and gazes out the window.
He looks down at the waterfront that you can clearly see from his high-up mansion. This is one luxury he would never give up, and never wanted to give up. It was something he loved to do, just stare out at the ocean. It was so massive .. anything could be hiding there.
Jordan ~ First, I will address the team of Sah’ta Thor and Shadow.
Firstly, I haven’t seen Shadow around in a while, aside from in the ring. It’s like he gets there, leaves and disappears! I can’t seem to track him down. Not like I’d want to .. But still!
Next off, I’d like to say to Sah’ta Thor .. I’ve beaten you once, I’ve beaten you twice, and here comes the third time. When I put you on my list of wins for the third time, you better hope there isn’t a fourth because if there is, you won’t live past it. I’ll take it easy on you this time around seeing as there are five other men in this match I have to be aware of.
Jordan clears his throat, licks his lips, and blinks a couple times. He squints against the sunlight seeping in through the window.
Jordan ~ Aside from my wins, I’ve seen all your promos. All I can say is, what in the hell? You’re being stalked and talking about raining diamonds and how you and Shadow as the Unholy Legion are just as unnatural as The UnNaturals. I don’t give two shits how unnatural you are, I’m still going to kick you ass come Highway to Hell, you can count on that.
Jordan blinks, then raises his left hand up, scratching his brow. He then returns his hand back to his pocket, and continues talking.
Jordan ~ This brings me to the second pair of freaks of nature in this match, The UnNaturals. Okay .. at your debut on XVI television, you made it rain diamonds .. and then shit?!
Jordan shudders.
Jordan ~ Okay, first off .. that is flat out disgusting. Second, where in the hell do you get off just marching into Xtreme Vicious Intent and saying you’re the best tag team in the company? Last week on Side Effect was your first match, and you lost it! You have absolutely no right to be saying you’re the best tag team in the business.
Jordan smiles now, chuckling under his breath. He spins gracefully on his heel, and begins to slowly pace back towards his leather chair. As he reaches it, he puts his hand into his trench coat pocket and pulls out a box of cigarettes. He pops the box open and pulls one out. He then closes the box and drops it on the mahogany table beside the sofa-chair.
He then spins on his heel again and glides toward the mantle on his limestone fireplace. He places the cigarette over the open flame burning in the wick of the candle, lighting the end of the cancer-stick. He smirks as he blows out the candle, placing the burning cigarette between his two lips.
He spins on his heel one more time and slowly walks back toward his chair, falling down into once he reaches it. He removes the cigarette from his mouth, blowing a thick cloud of smoke out into the cool air of the room.
He reaches out with his left hand, picking up his wine glass and takes another long gulp of the red wine that was sloshing around inside of it. He replaces the glass on the table as he licks his lips clean of the red liquid.
He holds the burning cigarette between his two first fingers as he speaks.
Jordan ~ Now, my final matter of concern .. The Meds. To be truthful, you can’t really call them a matter of concern, seeing as I’m not concerned about them. I’ve beaten Ritalin twice and Prozac once. Jake has beaten Ritalin uncounted times and would have beaten Prozac last week if he had listened to what I have told him .. the fool.
Jordan raises the cigarette to his lips, taking a long drag from it. He then opened his lips just wide enough so that the smoke could slowly pass over them and out into the air. He then took the cigarette away from he mouth and continued speaking.
Jordan ~ It’s not exactly that I am concerned about any of the aforementioned teams .. it’s that I’m worried that Jake and I will not make it to Highway to Hell. But even if we don’t, we have to stick together for that match. I know neither of us want a loss on our records .. well, another loss in Jake’s case. I’m still clenching my perfect record. For all those who say I was defeated, when I lost my Xtreme Championship didn’t count. I, myself, Jordan ‘Bullet Proof’ Glass, was not pinned, therefore I did not lose the match.
Jordan takes another drag from his cigarette before he switched his gaze to the lens of the camera.
His grey eyes drilled you like two diamonds. They shimmered, but at the same time were dead. They were intimidating, but inviting. They were intoxicating, but safe. They were Jordan Glass’ eyes, and they were drilling into your very soul.
Jordan ~ All of you idiots out there who think I can be beaten, better think twice. I cannot be taken down.
I have one last statement for all those who I will face at Highway to Hell, I might as well say the full roster of the XVI.
Jordan slams his cigarette into his forearm, douting it on his skin.
Jordan ~ Needles prick, knives cut .. but glass scars. I’ll scar every last one of you at Highway to Hell. You can put those words in the bank, Makaveli. Their as good as money.
---
We don’t fight fair, we don’t fight fair.
They say your head can be a prison.
Then these are just conjugal visits.
People will dissect us till
This doesn't mean a thing anymore.
Don't pretend you ever forgot about me.
Don't pretend you ever forgot about me.
Fall Out Boy - The Take Over, The Breaks Over
| .. ‘cause no one will ever feel like this again. |
