Apex Killer Death-Angel
Posts : 234
Join date : 2011-03-02
Age : 104
Location : Hell
Wrestler Stats
IWF Record: "The crime is life, the sentence is death!"
Alignment: In Between
 |  Subject: Mind Games  Fri Sep 30, 2011 7:05 pm | |
| Darkness completely encompasses everything. There is a sense that we are in a room but the specifics of the room are completely masked in a tenebrous calmness. We can see the faintest, crack of artificial light creeping, from behind a blind perhaps, however its attempts to illuminate the room are futile and we remain in the dark.
Far off in the corner of the room a faint tapping can be heard. It is soft and rhythmic in tempo and pace.
As the camera pans we perceive the slightest glimpse of light, a faint glimmer emanating from something sleek and metallic in nature for a second only before retreating back into the dark.
Still the tapping continues as we sit in almost total blackness.
Another flicker of the white light is seen, a watch, silver and shining, that was all we could make out in the briefest of moments...
And still the tapping goes on; its tempo is rising slowly, as it becoming a little faster... Soon however it is drowned out by a sound echoing to the left. A light is flicked on outside of our immediate surroundings, casting long, streaking shadows across the image from left to right. The faint pattering of slow footsteps can be heard, they increase in volume as it is apparent that the person from whom they come is getting closer and closer.
There is a loud click and suddenly the room bursts into blinding white light, light which bounces erratically from the white walls of the room.
"Jesus fucking Christ!"
Andrew Savage does not seem at all happy to be surprised like this as he jumps from his seat in the corner of the room.
"Arrrh!"
Alison screams as the first thing her eyes glimpse is Andrew leaping up.
Andrew: "Alison! Alison! Calm down."
Alison takes a long inhaling breath and composes herself. She raises a hand to her forehead and rubs her brow as Andrew takes a step backwards and slowly reclines back into his chair. He pauses for a brief moment before reaching across his body with his right hand and gripping a short, cylindrical glass of Jack Daniels, raising it to his lips and taking a hesitant sip of the liquid, rich in a golden brown colour. The smooth, mature taste of the liquor warms Savage's throat and helps to calm him.
Alison, standing in a thin, flittering, pink dressing gown, raises her left hand to her hip as she takes a step forward, revealing her long, slender and tanned leg from inside of the gown.
Alison: "Andrew I thought you were coming to bed over two hours ago?"
Alison stands, asking, no, demanding an answer. Her eyebrows slant downwards toward her nose as she scowls, not at her boyfriend, but rather at his mysterious actions.
Andrew just sits, tilting the glass a fraction and letting it fall to collide with the mahogany surface on which it sits; Savage does this two or three times in a constant motion before Alison cannot take it.
Alison: "Andrew!?"
Savage still just sits, as the camera looks over him, it is clear he is troubled. He sits, slouched, his left hand screwed up and resting on his knee while his right hand continues to create the tapping noise with the glass.
Alison: "ANDREW! For god's sake answer me!"
Finally Andrew looks upward. He does not appear startled or even fazed by the outburst from Alison but merely raises his chin upward and turns his head to face his manager and lover. Looking into her baby blue eyes, like shallow pools of crystal clear water, Andrew's troubled yet intense and mysterious composure washes away; a tear forms in the corner of his vivid green eyes. At this moment fury ceases to inhabit Alison as she looks down upon Andrew. Nothing needs to be said by either of the two... Alison takes a few brisk steps forward before clinching Andrew in a long, warm and caring embrace.
The hug lasts a good few seconds as the lone tear cascades down Savage's face, splashing onto Alison's gown. After a long moment Alison withdraws; still holding Andrew's arms she speaks softly without a hint of anger. Her voice is quaint and slightly higher than its usual tone.
Alison: "What's the matter?"
Andrew now pauses; he has no idea how to answer that question... Shit, he has no idea what he'd say if he did know... He just felt... Overwhelmed. What with being the champion and the schedule that demands, combining that with the apprehension and distaste towards the fact that at the beginning of February he will have to train somebody who has potentially never wrestled before (A rich somebody with the bidding now over five thousand dollars). Not to mention... Well...
Alison reaches out and grabs Andrew's left hand, as she opens it she feels the rustle of paper on her fingertips. Slowly removing the scrap of paper from Andrew's hand she holds it in her own. The scrap has been screwed up and so she gently unfolds it with her fingers before revealing the message inside it.
She stops; pausing momentarily, for this is the same scrap of paper that she handed Savage a few days previous on the radio show. "Adam Scott: - 630 Barnacle Way, Kenai, Alaska."
Alison: "Hey... What's the matter?"
Andrew glances down at the note in her hand and raises his eyes to the ceiling. He then, quite unwillingly brings his gaze back on Alison and shrugs.
The truth is that Andrew is hesitant to visit the address before him. If Scott Adams is indeed his uncle then where does that leave him? With more answers than questions is exactly where. Sure, his uncle would be alive. But then the question of "Why did he leave?" immediately springs to mind, and his uncle's motives for leaving could potentially be far more hurtful than knowing he is dead after over five years of coming to grips with the fact that he probably was.
Somehow, someway, it seems that Alison gathers this all from the look in her man's eyes. She smiles in a reassuring way and hugs Andrew some more.
Alison: "You can't be doing this babe... You have a big match this week... I really think Sir Van Coth will raise his game and try and beat you..."
Savage now for the first time speaks properly to Alison, he is very quiet and his voice cracks but the message can be heard.
Andrew: "Don't worry... I've had plenty of time to think about Sir Van Coth."
This was, in fact, true. Savage knew Sir Van Coth had to be his immediate priority and so had spent a large expanse of his time in the dark thinking about the goofy highflyer that he would face on Friday.
Alison: "Oh yea... Like what?"
Andrew: "I thought about whether what I was doing was too dark and mysterious for his ass."
Alison looks at him before the edges of her mouth turn upwards and she begins to chuckle. Savage joins her too as he places his hand on her waist.
Alison: "There he is! Welcome back honey. Are we going to stop this whole emotional rollercoaster thing and focus on kicking some ass?"
Savage's face returns to its rather dull look however a small smile is still alive as he nods.
Alison: "Alright. Well I'm counting on you after the rather distasteful comments he has made regarding me this week?"
Andrew: "Yea well... What he said about you will be fed down his throat this week as he screams in pain at the hands of the Nightmare. A sarcastic apology, the use of the same piece of shit pun twice and a pathetic dick joke don't exactly strike fear into my heart... Trust me... He can paint as many pictures as he wants; it isn't going to help him win the match."
Alison smiles.
Alison: "Yea I saw that painting... What the hell was that about anyway?"
Andrew shrugs in a nonchalant way as he finally wipes any trace of tears from his eyes and puts on a straight face.
Alison: "Yea, I don't know either. How he could talk about your tattoos being drawn by a five year old though I don't know."
Andrew chuckles again as Alison succeeds at bringing the sparkle back to his eyes and the confidence back to his voice.
Andrew: "Yea well... His lack of intelligence is obvious, and it seems to bring about hatred inside him that reflects onto those who do actually have intellect. Meanwhile I use my intelligence in the ring to make decisions and judgements in the blink of an eye and potentially change the outcome of the match. My intelligence is an essential part of my in ring ability because that way, even when my natural athletic abilities fail me, I still have my brain to fall back on and get me out of a tight situation. And I'm not going to apologise to him or anybody for that."
Alison smiles.
Alison: "I wouldn't expect you to."
Andrew nods and smiles.
Andrew: "Sir Van Coth can be the 'dumb, degenerate hero' all he wants... I'm not in this business to inspire people. I'm a pro-wrestler because I love this sport and put everything I have on the line without the slightest consideration to how I come across with the fans. Not that I'm ungrateful for the support I am given because I cherish every fan... But I didn't become a wrestler to be popular."
Alison: "Yea... I know... Anyway... Let Sir Van Coth smoke his weed."
Andrew scoffs as he interrupts Alison.
Andrew: "Yea... Let him get fucking baked. He'll need it to take the edge off of the pain I'm going to deliver to him."
Alison now for the first time flashes a hint of a smile in a very seductive manner. Andrew looks at her rather quizzically.
Alison: "What? I like it when you're angry. What can I say?"
Andrew smiles and leans in, meeting Alison's lips with his own and kissing her passionately. Alison immediately rises to her feet and backs towards the door from behind which she entered the room as Andrew follows, all the time kissing her intensely. She now casts aside the scrap of paper she took from her lover's hand, tossing it to the floor without care. As the two get to the door Andrew reaches with his hand and flicks the light switch off. As the door closes behind them we can hear Alison speak.
Alison: "C'mon, let's go put my 'small clit' and your 'oversize dick' to use."
We hear her laugh playfully as the scene slowly fades to black.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The Match~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yes Brother we do meet for the frist time in IWF in the frist ever End Game match. And it won't be a disappointment when are any of are matchs a Disappointment.
Yes it is fitting we step inside the End Game once again for old times.
Yes only one of us will walk away from the End Game just like the frist time.
Yes brother you didn't pin me or even made me tap out you never have in all are matches we have been in.
And yes we are in the main event but this time I'm entering the match as a hall of famer and I plan on showing you why I am the best.
Brenton Cyrus lets bring hell onto one another.
Brother I'm going to crush ur dreams by beating you in the frist round.
So it has been said so it will be done. | |
|
