Post by Maz on Oct 1, 2017 4:17:03 GMT
HARD SWALLOW
ハードスワロー
FINDING CONTROL
Riverside, California - 3:20pm
“Why come here when all is perfect and well? You believe in what he says, don’t you?”
Aggressively shaking his head, denying the question, his eyes peer towards the second floor of the building he has maintained frequent visits, each time coming out of the building with a seemingly better outlook on things. Short-term effect, but it was progress. Things were continually looking up for him, as he now had acquired yet another accomplishment, becoming HELL Lucha Libre’s Gladiator de HELL Champion alongside his bestie, Aurora, in that devastating, demonizing Tower match. Just entering to feed his addiction to violence, he exited with gold around his waist along with the blood of many others on him. Each DNA particle an accomplishment in their own right.
“I need this. I need THIS. I NEED to get through these stages. I need to find peace or else I’ll be losing a lot more of money.”
“Should I enter or should I turn around and never make a return?”
He stood still about two feet from the double-door entry, looking up and down, thinking as deep as he could go before taking his next step.
“Finn Whelan deserved what he got. He played with fire and got burnt!”
Quickly shaking his head, he sighed as he opened the left side of the doors and walked into the building. Slowly progressing his way through as he climbed the steps, his head was on a swivel, looking back and forths, a bit paranoid to whether still backtrack or keep forward. He eventually made his mind as he traveled to the top of the steps, taking in a deep, deep breath as he turned and glared at Mr. Richard Choo. The look of happiness on that man’s face was unexpected in Masaru’s case. Waving his hand to welcome him into the office, Masaru thought on it as his left foot nervously tapped the carpeted floor. He pulled the door, opening it as he entered.
“Mr. Inoue!! So glad to see you again!
Getting up out of his black, leather Office chair, he came around the desk to formally greet his “patient”. Masaru, replying to the question, just gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. Quick ran through Choo as he nodded his head, smirking.
“I see.”
Masaru rolled his head and neck before sitting down in the chair, his hands lightly resting on the sides as his eyes tracked every step Richard took.
“Leave now!”
“You still seem nervous, as if you little to no trust in me. We’ve had what..3 meetings? Still no trust but yet there’s bits of improvements. But you don’t trust me, that’s not fair!”
Masaru immediately started to laugh ironically, throwing the man all off guard as he looked at Masaru, unsure of what to say or do next.
“What’s the meaning of the word “fair” in this day and age?”
“It’s only three. I need more than three. Trust is hard. Only two that I truly trust. If it ever came to a point where it’s broken, It would be truly the end of the world. I can’t trust you. You like to finger-fuck with one’s mind. Mines to brittle for that.”
“I..I understand!”
Both hands slapped violently against the oak wood office table, a quickly enraged Masaru stood to his feet, his eyes beaming right towards Richard with much angst as he breathes heavily, grinding his teeth.
“NO. YOU. DON’T. FUCKING. UNDERSTAND!!!”
He showcased a mild smirk towards the man as he moved away from his chair. Picking up that said chair, Masaru picked it up and launched it with all his might as it crashed through the wide glass as you could hear it’s landfall against the concrete. The man was shook, easily regretting ever uttering those two words out of his mouth. He glued himself to the nearby wall. Masaru followed, meeting him with only inches of space in between the two.
“Look, I’m s-s-sorry I uttered those words. I..pl-please don’t hurt me!”
Masaru grabbed the man by his necktie, pulling the tie, almost in attempt to try and choke him. He tilted his head, still with that smirk on his face.
“Everyone always have said they understood when really it’s impossible to understand a completely fucked up life. You haven’t dealt with what I’ve had to deal with. I have only a little bit of happiness in this fucked up world to keep me from totally blanking out and going ballistic. Yet there’s little unmindful fucks like Finn Whelan trying to take my GODDAMN Sunshine away!”
“Make him eat his words. Take him for his last ride...through that window!”
“You will never understand me. Those ‘calming words’ do nothing but aggravate me because there is no such thing as understanding when it comes to me. It doesn’t exist.”
Pressing even harder, the man seemed ready to just faint but Masaru wasn’t letting him just drop to the floor, at least until he was finished.
“DO IT!”
“Please, I will never ever say those words again. Just...I have a girlfriend.”
Just as he said that, Masaru jolted him, causing the back of his head to hit the wall.
“It goes deeper than that, Richard! See, this will be the last time you ever see me. You’ve pissed me off. Once you do that, there is no coming back. If I didn’t have a soul to slay, this day would be your last too but thanks to Whelan, I must refrain.”
Masaru backed off, but before backing away completely, he sort of straightened up the collar of the psychiatrist as he viciously patted the man on both shoulders. Masaru turned his back as he made his way back around the other side of the desk, heading for the exit.
“Later Choo-Choo!”
Masaru glanced back at him, again with the smirk.
“Later, Choo-Choo!”
Making his exit out of the room, he made his way quickly around the corner and down the steps as he took several quick breaths, a smile this time, showing through.
“Control. I had...control!”
He made his exit through the double doors soon after as things came to a fade.
=================== ~ ~ ~ ===================
Ohhhh Finny, how do you do???
Excuse me for your problematic issues to date and missing time. You were just another victim of my fetish. Fetish for violence, vengeance, hatred, etc. You fell in my trap and I partially “deleted” you when I delivered on foot my two boots to your scrumptious face. My feet were your airbags. I saved you months of damage on impact. For what could’ve been sixty or ninety, is only thirty.
I gave you the chance to go ... go away far from here, but no. You fail to take the warning and the opportunity to find life elsewhere. You want to come back and gain vengeance against me.
Hahaha!
Seth gave me what? A fine? A nice hefty fine for taking out a prominent star and yet for all that damage, a fine is just that. Can you imagine what I’ll get when I completely destroy you, tear you from limb to limb? Can you imagine the horror on Seth’s face when that “fine” would be the reason for your end?
Can you imagine the pain on your fans faces when I kill their “hero”?
Hmm...
As the new Gladiator del HELL Champion, it will be an ABSOLUTE honor to be the last person you ever face in this company again. I say that not because you are going to retire but the fact that after I finish destroying you, there will be no more of “Seattle’s Saint”. You will fade out at the goal line just like....your team did.
Hell has been waiting for you long enough, Finn. Your payment of time is due up.
You got ‘salty’ over losing to the “legend” that is, The Fin-Nisher and you completely “lost it”. You mocked me in the worst way in how I would react to a devastating loss. You stormed backstage and was pissed. The look on your face, Finn, it was to DIE for, you hear me? I laughed from the Gorilla position in the back and laughter from that pitiful showcase you put on, it wasn’t something to be sombering over. You took the L. All you had to do was just learn from your mistakes.
But no, you chose to make it even worse.
You attacked the wrong motherfucker, Finn Whelan. You attacked someone that wanted nothing more than to be provoked. A trigger-happy, psychotic, switch-personality sufferer who has a taste for defying death. You chose the wrong soul to perform your Revelations on, boy. You should’ve just LEFT WHEN YOU HAD THE FUCKING CHANCE!
I couldn’t let you just get away, Finn. Oh noes ... I couldn’t sleep at night if I let that occur. I had to do something. I had to make sure vengeance was served warm and damnit, I served it “piping hot” to your door...well, face. I gave you a supreme facial. One that you, my friend, will remember for a long, long time.
Redemption 113 will be the end for you. I’m going to make it happen. Thirty-something stitches won’t be the only thing you have. There will be more, PLENTY of more to come. More stitching and stapling for your doctor to do, all because you were an over-salted kernel who couldn’t pop no more.
=================== ~ ~ ~ ===================
