Post by Santy on Jul 4, 2017 20:42:07 GMT
Hapi House Gym
Las Vegas, Nevada
30th March 2017
“Get him off of him!!”
The renovated warehouse carried the warning to an echo, and the ensuing scuffle reverberated even further. At the heart of the building, in its primary wrestling ring, men collide against one another, in an explosion of fists and fury and threats, but it was over as quickly as it started. At its centre stood the giant Marko Flins, one hand hooked around the neck of [REDACTED], the other holding El Mundo at arms length.
The Spanish luchadore quickly backed off and headed toward the prone, collapsed body of his son. He turned to Marko with venom in his tone, “He’s a monster, Marko! We can’t train him. He almost…”
His voice trailed off at the murmur of his son, recovering from unconsciousness, he greeted his father with a weak smile. “So that was what you always warned me about, huh?”
Mundo shook his head, still seething with anger. “No. You shouldn’t have been put at risk with him. It won’t happen again.”
“Are you serious?!” His son exclaimed, “That was the closest I’ve ever come to a real fight. Feels good to have the training wheels off.”
Marko and [REDACTED] had eased away from one another, the latter curiously watching the interaction between father and son. He seemed relaxed, almost too relaxed, like a tether about to snap back, a snake about to strike. But instead of striking, he dropped to the mat and rolled out from the ring.
“Same time tomorrow?” He asked Junior, before turning to his father, “Don’t worry, I won’t kill him.”
“Unless I say so, right?!” Brandon Garcia burst into the room, having monitored the altercation from this office.
[REDACTED] regarding him eerily, before briskly walking past him toward the locker room. Garcia grinned, and regarded the three men in the ring, “Good job, Junior. Ease up on him next time though, yeah? He is a rookie after all. And pops, what the fuck you doing running at him like that? I don’t know what this guys background is, but he let Marko stop that fight, and I sure as shit don’t want to see what happens when he doesn’t. I know I haven’t been able to give you much information about what is going on here, but you have to trust me, right? Let’s get him ring ready ASAP, and if we’re all breathing, with all limbs intact, and none of us are in jail, I’d chalk it up as a win.”
Garcia turns to head back to his office, but leaves one last parting statement, “He ever pulls that shit with Rosemary, don’t keep it from me.”
Marko Flins Journal
March 30th 2017
We had another good look at the new guy today, the one Garcia dragged in like a cat dragging a wolf to your doorstep. Logen has attempted to calm my concerns over the situation, but I have seen too much to trust a man not willing to show his face, let alone one that arrives guarded in the back of an unmarked van.
If I had any fatherly instincts, I would not let him in the ring with Junior or Rosemary, but Brandon is adamant he be tested at their level first. Regardless, I will be watching, and as proved today, I have a need to not be far away. I have never been the type to review my own performances, much to the chagrin of my one time mentor, Doug E Fresh. But I wonder if this is how I appeared when I first graved Sin City Wrestling with my pent up Ukrainian fury.
Did I seem so predatory? Or is it just the mask?
I am under no disillusions as to what image I portrayed, but that was often due to my size, my aggression, and disability. With him, there is no aggression, no bursts of fury, just calculated dismantlement of whoever steps in front of him. That kid could run rings around him, but he froze, he panicked like a deer when the trap snaps shut and he almost got himself seriously injured.
I may have to step in. Forget Garcia and the mess he has brought us, if we are to ever discover the true potential or threat of this man, he needs to be in the ring with someone who has seen it all before.
One monster to another, lets see how he handles a masterpiece.
Overstock Peace Colosseum
Midvale, Utah
July 4th 2017
Backstage in the Colosseum, days ahead of the next show for the illustrious Phoenix Wrestling, Brandon Garcia fiddles with a camera whilst [REDACTED] watches on from the shadows of their dimly lit locker room. Garcia’s eyes light up to an unknown stimuli and he re-adjusts himself in picture.
“So here we are, on the precipice of another historic show. The Duo’s title is on the line, with the Rat Pack tribute act challenging Hell is Waiting, who are seemingly the only worthy opponents for the man stood behind me. Unless we count that clown of a Rebirth champion, Cassius Reed. I have competed in Iron King tournaments, they must have been skimming the talent pool for that last one..
Oh, and of course. We’ve got the hottest property in PW right now, the masked madman, he’s got; no name, no morals, and no mercy! [REDACTED] gets a shot at the only other title up for grabs, and the woman standing in his way?
Well… you already know that. She’s a two time champion, a world wide renowned talent, and I guess one of the banner acts here in PW, where such stars are desperately lacking. We know plenty about her, me and you. Red does too, but he’d rather demonstrate just what he knows about her on the 11th.
I hung around backstage for her win over that pasty lass last time out, and I’m not going to lie, she’s my type of woman. Desperate eyes and a cruel heart, and willing to risk it all to prove a point. I like it. I’m sure Red is indifferent, but to me, when I was in the ring, that was the type of opponent I wanted. It meshed well with me, and more often than not, they were memorable battles. Guys like Adrien Spector, Rex Evans, these guys, there was nothing cerebral about them, they knew what they wanted, what it would take to get it, but they’d let their ego get in their way.
And I imagine right now, that ego of Ana’s, it ain’t never been so high! A rising phoenix about to hit its crescendo, it’s glass ceiling, or more aptly, the closed fists of [REDACTED].
I don’t doubt her abilities, but when we break her down as a competitor, she is a showcase act. A performer. The kind of act that does well under circus lights and among the fickle natured fans of this industry. Fast and furious, and like the films, she’s more than just a sequel. She’ll keep coming at you, she won’t tire and she won’t stop until she finds a way to put you down or out, and she knows time is against her. She learnt that the hard way. And it should and maybe would work against ninety percent of the social media stars that frequent our business.
Here comes the but. Not the questionably pert one of Aurora’s, but my man, Red.
Where Ms Starling is an act, a performer, the man who has recently wreaked havoc on Redemption is the complete opposite. He is pure, he is real, and getting into the ring with him, win or lose, it’s a damn near death experience. Fuck man, my hackles are up, and I’m an ally. Ask Twin, ask the coroner who dealt with Kamigawa, you won’t know just what the hell you are getting into until you’re trapped in the circus ring with the untamed lion, and the clock starts ticking.
What is more important to the brave Anastasia? Her title or her survival?
What will she see when Red’s gaze locks onto her and the bell rings? Her demise? Or the opportunity she has been waiting for?
Like I said, I’ve been watching, and I know how much disillusion she has with the industry, with the cheats and the corrupt and the unambitious. Everything she hates about those kind of men and women, they represent nothing about Red. She wants a true test, someone to really prove herself against.
Red is the man of her dreams, but it could so easily become her nightmare.
But if it would ease her concerns, I can promise one thing, if the title is to be lost and leave draped over my shoulder, I promise it will be memorable. It will be explosive. It will come at a cost, but there will be no humiliation afterward, no despair. She will know she met an unstoppable force, and whether she decided to throw herself at it or under it, it will happen within the time limit, and it will leave its mark. Perhaps permanently.
I know the decision that now faces you Anastasia. I have faced it before, when that title, and your pride, and your ego, and your ambition meets a point where you might question how important all of it is to you, and how much you are willing to risk for it. I took my risk, and it ended my career.
You have seven days, and ten minutes to make that decision.
The rest of it is out your control. It is out of mine, hell, it is out of Seth Black’s and who else considers themselves to be the owner of Phoenix Wrestling.
Red has a grip on your ankle, Ana. He’ll drag you back down into the flames, into hell itself.
Can you rise again?
How many lives does a Phoenix have?
See you on the other side."
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Word Count: 1661
Edit: Formatting
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Word Count: 1661
Edit: Formatting