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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on May 19, 2007 14:59:37 GMT -5
Match 8: ACW Heavyweight Championship - Steel Cage (No Escape) – Special Ref: BK London Wyvern(c) vs The Senator (Credit: Senator)
Maxwell McNally: Here we are, at the main event, and as you see on the screen right now, this is going to be fought in a fifteen foot high steel cage, which has been lowered just above the ring, high enough to allow the wrestlers to enter, you see, there's no door, and the top is closed off, so the only way in or out is to get there before or after the cage drops, there's no escape in this match.
"Fast" Eddie Edison: Oh yes it is, Maxie! We're going to see some rage in a cage, and a fight for the night here in a few minutes!
McNally: The circumstances that have led to this momentous match started quite a while ago here in ACW, but the Cliffs' Notes version follows as such: Wyvern gave Steve Phillips his chance at the ACW Title. Phillips returned the favor when he won the belt, and Wyvern, instead of appreciating the gesture, stabbed his teammate in the back by calling in interference.
Edison: I dunno, I think he was just playing it smart!
McNally: Not now, I'm not getting into this...so, then, Senator Phillips decided to match fire with fire, and has reportedly re-trained in secret to prepare himself for this fight.
Edison: Which we all know he can't win!
McNally: You can hardly be serious, we all know, Mr. Edison, that you have a bias against the older wrestlers around here...which include Wyvern, I might add...
Edison: But he ain't a broken down old windbag! Wyvern's newer, meaner, and just plain better than the Senator, and that's the real truth, Maxie!
McNally: Now, if you'd hush down for a little while, I think this is about to start...
“Kingdom Come” plays, and BK London makes his appearance, wearing a custom made ACW referee shirt…with white and blue stripes, as opposed to the general black and white colors. BK gets a positive response from the crowd as he walks down to the ring, looking up at the cage as he does so.
McNally: BK London is certainly one of the most respected members of Alpha Championship wrestling, having been here since day one, and always being ready to take on any challenge.
Before long, Eye of the Tiger hits the PA system, and the audience immediately bursts into a big cheer.
Phillip Jones: Announcing first, the challenger, hailing from Washington, D.C, weighing in at an even two hundred pounds, Senator Steve Phillips!
The usual red, white, and blue tickertape shoots up from the entranceway, as Phillips steps through the curtain, accompanied by Rattlesnake.
The lights darken by half, with a red glow about the arena, as “This Light” plays, to a decidedly negative reaction from the thousands in attendance. Wyvern appears in the entranceway, flanked on either side by Alexander Starkweather, and Umeko Saito, holding the ACW World Heavyweight Title in the air, upside down, an almost disturbingly intense look on his face.
Phillip: Announcing next, hailing from Tacoma, Washington, weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds, he is the ACW Champion, and the self-proclaimed Modern Day Judas, Wyvern!
As Wyvern enters the ring, he hands the belt off to an official at ringside, and as the accompanying entourages back off, the cage lowers down to cover the ring, coming to a halt with an ominous thud.
BK London checks both wrestlers, and noticing that neither man is looking very patient at this point, backs off to a corner, motioning for the match to start.
The bell rings, and immediately, Phillips charges in at his opponent, throwing a high roundhouse kick to the head. Wyvern is able to block the kick, but is staggered, allowing the Senator to land a sharp middle kick against the ribs with the opposite leg. Wyvern clutches the area where the kick hit, as Phillips charges in, going for one of his infamous chops...but the ACW champion catches him unaware with a devastating headbutt, the sound of which resounds through the Arena.
McNally: Nobody ever was going to count Wyvern out of this one, he's one of the trickiest wrestlers in the industry today, is willing to take any action to win a match, has a firm technical background, and is tough as nails, even if he's not demonstrated that quality quite as well in the last month or so.
Before the Senator can recover, Wyvern blasts him in the side of the face with a looping hook punch, kicks him in the gut, and slams him into the harsh, unforgiving steel, face first. As the challenger bounces off, a trickle of blood is visible on his forehead, likely a result of the headbutt more than the cage. Before the Senator can hit the ground, Wyvern catches him by the side of the head, and throws a hard straight knuckle punch right into the cut, opening the cut up wider.
Edison: Oh man, this just started, and Steve Phillips is already done!
McNally: Blood loss could be a serious issue, Senator Phillips is no spring chicken, but then again, he's not a frail old woman, either.
Edison: You say that, but when the ancient dinosaur collapses in the ring, and is unable to fight here again, it's partly your fault, Maxie!
Phillips drops to the mat, clutching his wound. BK London checks on the title contender for a moment, but is shoved out of the way, as Wyvern stomps the Senator in the face. Of course, London takes issue with this, and whips Wyvern around to face him, pointing to the ACW logo on his referee shirt. Wyvern is hardly impressed with the show of authority, laughing in BK's face, before going back to stomp the Senator some more. This only draws the guest referee's ire even more, and he spins Wyvern around again, this time, yelling in his face.
BK: You WILL respect this!
Before Wyvern can turn back around, BK shoves him in the chest, and puffs his own out, defying the champion to retaliate in kind. Wyvern shakes his head, shrugging his shoulders as he turns back to his opponent. The delay, though, was costly, allowing Phillips to get his wits back enough to punch his opponent straight in the groin.
McNally: That certainly is not a classic Senatorial maneuver...
The Senator stands up, blasting Wyvern in the head with a straight knee, dragging his opponent over to the cage, in front of Starkweather and Umeko, before slamming his opponent's face right into the steel. As Wyvern bounces off, Phillips catches him into a full nelson, and this time, jams the champion's face into the cage, with no arms up for protection. Wyvern's foot swings back, and hits the Senator squarely in the nether-regions, allowing the champion to escape the hold. Before he turns back to the attack, Wyvern takes an object through the fencing from Starkweather on the outside. BK steps to the ropes, telling Wyvern's crew to back off, but as he does, he misses Wyvern stabbing his opponent in the face with a large, nasty fork.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on May 19, 2007 15:00:04 GMT -5
McNally: It's all legal here, even if BK might want to keep weapons out of it, they're allowed. And speaking of weapons, Wyvern appears to have gone into full Abdullah mode here.
Edison: You sayin' that he added on five hundred pounds, and is sagging all over the place?
McNally: You ninny, why do I even bother with you?
The champion uses the weapon to full advantage, jamming the sharp points into the soft flesh of Phillips's forehead, opening up the wound even more. Wyvern goes for one last stab, as BK warns him to get rid of the fork, but the Senator catches his arm on the way down, kicking his legs up, and countering the attack into a rolling cross armbreaker, while prying the weapon free of his opponent's hands. The veteran technician is unable to fully extend the arm, but the move served its purpose, and Phillips rolls back, releasing Wyvern from the submission. Wyvern gets up to a kneeling position, but is caught flush with a running penalty kick to the head, which Phillips follows stright into a pin with...
...1
...
...Wyvern kicks out right before BK's slow second count! The two combatants don't waste a moment of time, and trade blows right out of the kickout, each man throwing hard elbows and quick clubbing hooks at each other's heads, until a particularly powerful uppercut of an elbow hits the Senator right under the jaw, dropping the former champion right back down to the mat. As Phillips stands up, Wyvern dashes off the ropes, cartwheeling into an impressive handspring dropkick, sending his opponent rolling into the ropes. The Senator props himself up, blood dripping off his face, but the tenacity goes unrewarded, as he catches a running knee to the ribcage. Wyvern pulls Phillips back to the middle of the ring, kicking him in the stomach, before going off the ropes again, and connecting with a big Kenka Kick to the temple as he returns.
McNally: Wyvern just used the Senator's own Partisan Kick against him, in a degrading, and painful insult!
The champion goes for a single hand cover, mimicking Phillips's classic pin...
...1
...
...2
...
...The Senator kicks out! Wyvern is relentless, though, continuing his attack with a running kick to the ribs, and a second one, which sends the Senator back into the ropes. As Wyvern approaches, though, he neglects to do so with any sense of caution, and thus, is taken by surprise when Phillips slides into an Ali Kick, desperately kicking the side of his opponent's left knee, bringing him down partially. The Senator wastes little time in standing up, elbowing Wyvern in the head, before dragging him over to the ropes, and tossing him through the middle ropes. The former champion is not done there, stomping a few times, and then picking Wyvern up rather awkwardly, by the feet, and hanging him into a bit of an improvised tree of woe over the ropes, using the top two ropes to trap Wyvern's feet, forcing him to remain upside-down, facing the cage.
Edison: What in the blue hell is this going to be?
McNally: It certainly is going to result in something brutal, from the looks of things!
Phillips backs up, measuring the situation, squaring up, and then rushing in with a full blast penalty kick to the lower rope, blasting Wyvern's face into the steel.
Edison: Aw man, that was daa..er...nasty!
McNally: Good man.
Wyvern, though, remains hanging, which allows the Senator to back up again, this time, running off the opposite ropes, before sliding in with a devastating low angle dropkick directed straight at the base of the skull, knocking Wyvern's head nearly through the cage with a resounding impact.
Edison: Forget it, that was pure awesomeness in a can! You can call this match off!
McNally: I don't really think that it's over, but that was quite the collision between the champion's head and the cage. Certainly something not to take such joy in, Mr. Edison.
Wyvern slumps down, his feet finally freed from the ropes as they snap back into place, the signs of the damage done from the last two moves visible on his forehead, as a small trickle of blood emerges upon it. The Senator pulls his opponent out from the ropes, flipping over into a jackknife cradle, once away from the ropes...
...1
...
...2
...Wyvern kicks out! Before the champion can regain his senses, Phillips walks over to Rattlesnake on the edge of the cage, who, from outside, hands a long, thick chain to the Senatorial Stable founder! BK walks over to examine the recently "imported" foreign object, but catches a back elbow to the head, as the Senator pulls the chain into the ring. London drops to the mat as any good referee would, holding his head. Wyvern, mostly recovered at this point, steadies himself for an attack with the chain, circling around his opponent, as he swings the weapon in a wide radius around his head. The Senator fakes a full fledged swing of the chain, prompting Wyvern to sidestep, but the move only puts him off guard, as Phillips catches the end link, charging forward with a vicious chain assisted lariat, dropping the weapon to go for a pin...
...
...But of course, nobody's there to count, as BK remains down from the accidental elbow. A supremely annoyed Steve Phillips lets go of the pin, marching over to the suddenly fragile BK London, pulling him up to his feet, and dragging him over for the pin…but when he gets there, Wyvern is ready. The champion gains the advantage, sweeping his opponent’s legs, and crossing them for the Deus Ex Machina...however, before he can turn Phillips over, he finds himself caught in a quick inside cradle of sorts…
…1
…
…Wyvern escapes the flash cradle attempt! Both wrestlers roll out of the failed pin attempt, but the champion is the fastest on the draw at this point, catching the Senator with a kick to the midsection, pulling an arm over his shoulder, and backing up to the ropes, launching his opponent into the cage with a vertical suplex, which bounces off into a disgusting high angle gordbuster, mashing Phillips’s face into the mat.
Edison: He’s got no face after that!
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on May 19, 2007 15:00:43 GMT -5
Wyvern jumps up, dropping a quick leg onto the back of the Senator’s head, following up with four more rapid leg drops, and finishing with a short double stomp to the skull, leaving Phillips for dead in the middle of the ring, a pool of blood spreading out from the fallen poltitican/wrestler's head. Wyvern checks the cut on his own forehead as he walks over to the cage, looking up, as he fiercely grasps the chain link structure with a single hand.
McNally: This can not be good, Wyvern appears to have completely lost control at this point.
A bloodied, but furious Wyvern slowly inches his way up to the top of the gigantic structure, carefully placing his fingers in the top fencing of the cage, and making his way over to the middle, hand by hand, as if scaling across a set of monkey bars, until he manages to place himself over the top of his opponent, some fifteen feet down. Waiting for Phillips to get his footing, Wyvern subtly, but noticeably seems to be raising his knees up, in anticipation for what looks to be the ultimate version of his rarest desperation maneuver...
Edison: Oh, no, no he's not gonna do it, he's not gonna do what it looks like he's getting ready to do, nobody's crazy enough to do something that insane!
As the Senator stubbornly makes his way up to his feet again, wiping the blood from his eyes, he has no idea where the champion went, looking around, he sees no sign, other than Rattlesnake, and the fans pointing...up...and as the challenger looks at the proper direction, Wyvern makes his move, letting go, and falling down, right into a very sloppy, but unmistakable hurricanrana, Phillips's shoulders catching the brunt of the impact, before he himself is forcibly snapped head first into the mat.
Edison: DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNGEEEERRRRRRRRRRRROUSSSSSSSS!!!!!
McNally: For once, I think that overused phrase completely fit the circumstances.
BK London looks at both devastated combatants, and for a moment seems to ponder the option of stopping the match, but instead shakes his head with a big smirk on his face, allowing it to continue.
McNally: I do not know if our more experienced referees might have made a different decision in this situation, but for the time being, I think that nobody's going to complain about this, even if it might be a bit self serving of a choice...
The two wrestlers take at least a good thirty seconds to even show a sign of life, but Wyvern is able to do so first, limping over, and heavily favoring his left leg as he makes his way over to a weak cover…
…1
…
…2
…
…Phillips somehow manages to barely kick out!
McNally: My goodness, the fact that the match went on after Wyvern’s fall from the sky is a feat in and of itself, let alone that he was able to get up to make a cover, and Phillips was able to survive being spiked upon his head.
Wyvern seems beyond frustrated, as he pulls himself up, gingerly handling his left leg, as he stands up, lifting his opponent up, and going for what looks to be another gordbuster...until his leg gives out, dropping the challenger to his own feet. Phillips takes full advantage of the situation, and upon landing, throws a huge Washington Lariat, which takes both men down to the mat, hard.
Edison: I can't help it...Lariatooooooo!
The lariat has the effect of knocking both men down, but the force is not enough to completely take them out. Phillips painfully hoists himself up, using the corner turnbuckles for support, as Wyvern favors his left knee again as he stands. Wyvern is able to hobble over to the corner, and throws a hard right hand punch. The Senator partially blocks the strike, returning with an elbow of his own, but like with the lariat, is not able to put much force behind it. Wyvern's next punch sends Phillips slumped further down, with his head resting now against the top turnbuckle pad, as he answers with a punch to the abdomen. An exhausted Wyvern rears back, throwing one more punch...and suddenly BK London intercedes between the two battle-weary fighters, throwing his arms in the air, and signaling for the bell!
McNally: What in blazes is going on here?
Phillip Jones steps over to the ring, as the cage lifts back up to the ceiling, and speaks a few words with the referee before speaking to the audience.
Phillip: As a result of a referee stoppage, the winner of this match, and STILL YOUR ACW World Heavyweight Champion, Wyvern!
The crowd resoundingly boos the decision of the special referee, some people instantaneously starting a "restart" chant, but London shakes his head, as he motions to the back for medics to head down to the ring. Wyvern, a bloody atrocious mess himself, is awarded the belt by the referee, who holds onto it for a moment too long for the current champion to stomach, and he forcibly yanks his golden prize away from London. BK intensely stares straight back at Wyvern, making the universal motion for "my belt," as he steps out of the ring, without turning his back, or averting his eyes.
McNally: The road to Omega Effect starts right here, and it's obvious that BK London is letting Wyvern know that he's not intimidated by his show of violence, and that he's going to be entirely focused on that belt.
Wyvern holds his belt up high, parading it to all corners of the ring, to nearly unanimous boos from the crowd in attendance. Some people throw trash into the ring, which only seems to invigorate the winner of the match, who starts laughing in response. Seeing the Senator still slumped down in the corner where BK stopped the match, Wyvern heads over, holding his belt up high.
McNally: This is unnecessary, but then again, I have come to expect nothing less from Wyvern...
The champion comes to a stop, slowly lowering the belt, and sticking it in the face of his exhausted foe. The Senator, though, manages to get up to an unstable footing, the gleam of an intense fire still lingering in his partially obstructed eyes, as he stands up to his victorious opponent. Wyvern sneers back, rejoining his allies on the outside, who assist him on the way back, while Phillips braces himself, barely able to remain standing. Before long, both of the Capitalists rush down to ringside, and along with Rattlesnake, make it in the ring before the medics can get there. The three help their Stable associate, and to scattered cheers, aid him in getting to the backstage area.
Fade Out.
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on May 19, 2007 15:01:15 GMT -5
Closing Segment: Ouroboros - Tell Me My Name II (Credit: Hunter)
Victory. If there is one thing that can always soothe a man, it is victory. And this proves to be ever true in Brimstone's case. He walks down the hallway with a significant look of triumph on his face...and this is quite understandable. He glances down every so often at the International Championship that is dangling from his hand, and smiles every time he sees it. To him, it is simply as if he has finally overcome a part of him that has been forever trapped in a sort of limbo. The title that he holds in his hand is a sign of his final victory over one of his more notable enemies. Still somewhat cheery, he reaches the door of his locker room and lightly opens it, and then enters the room quickly. The door remains slightly open as he walks to the center of the room and puts the International Title down onto his couch. But just then, he stops. The amount of light entering the room is slowly decreasing, and he is not yet ready to be completed encased in darkness. He spins around at the exact moment that the door shuts, but remains perfectly still. Something is not right.
?: Hello, Nicholas.
Following this, a small flame flickers on in front of the flame. It reveals the bottom half of a man's face, and then is snapped off just as quickly. Brimstone sees that whoever this man is, he is holding a lit cigarette that ever so perfectly conceals his face. He then lowers the cigarette and lets it hang at his side. He has seen these actions before...and he acknowledges them instantly.
Brimstone: You're "The Shadow," aren't you?
There is a very long silence, and Brimstone slowly lets his smile fade, hoping that the man before him does not notice. And yet, he is still rather sure that due to his, no doubt, lengthy presence in the dark, he can see everything perfectly. Eventually after this silence passes, the figure answers.
The Shadow: Yes.
Brimstone chuckles slightly and gains a friendly air about him, but does not approach or make any sort of movement.
Brimstone: I knew it...I just knew that it was a matter of time. They said I was just nuts...heh...so much for that, eh?
The cigarette rises from its loose, dangling position and finds a home at roughly eye level of Brimstone. It brightens and dims at various intervals, although Brimstone chooses to ignore this.
The Shadow: Indeed.
Brimstone: So...why did it take you so long to get to me? I mean, surely you---
The Shadow: I was waiting for the best opportunity.
Brimstone: Well, what were you---
The Shadow: I had some business to take care of.
Brimstone: Right, right. I forgot that you're some big...rich...businessman guy.
The Shadow: ...in so many words.
Brimstone: But you knew from the moment I started wrestling here that it was me, didn't you?
The Shadow: Of course.
Brimstone: I probably had hair back then---
The Shadow: One never forgets a face.
Brimstone chuckles slightly, and nods his head happily.
Brimstone: Well, look, I know this may sound weird, but I've sort of got...amnesia.
The Shadow: I know. Your little wrestling friends came out with it a while back.
Brimstone: ...really?
His eyes begin adjusting to the dark, and so he is able to see the Shadow nod through it.
Brimstone: Oh well. But, yeah, my memories have gradually been coming back to me, and earlier today I was at the time when I figured out who you were. But unfortunately, I didn't get that far. So could you just cover that?
The Shadow: Cover what?
Brimstone: Your name. W-Who are you?
Another silence greets him, and the cigarette remains rather sturdy in its present position.
The Shadow: I don't think that you're in quite a position to be asking me many questions. I'm the all-seeing and all-knowing one, after all. And the one who still has all of his memories.
Brimstone: Right, sorry.
The Shadow: But I'll give you a choice: I can tell you who I am, or I can tell you something that I am sure you will find more important.
Brimstone: And what's that?
There is a slight pause as the cigarette brightens and dims once more.
The Shadow: I can tell you who you are.
Brimstone is frozen in time as he hears this. Finally, he has met a person who knows everything about him, and is actually willing to tell him. This is not a dream that can end anywhere. There are no stagehands this time around.
Brimstone: I---
The Shadow: Surely you want that more.
Brimstone: Of course.
The cigarette nods, and then a solid object slides into the base of Brimstone's boots. He reaches down and picks it up, and from its texture and weight he can figure out exactly what it is.
Brimstone: You sure do have a thing for suitcases, don't you?
The Shadow: Catch.
Brimstone attempts to react, but he is hit in the chest with a small object, and it drops weightlessly onto the ground. He picks it up slowly and can feel that it is a lighter.
Brimstone: Why not just turn on the lights?
The Shadow: I like the dark. Didn't you know that?
Brimstone chuckles slightly as he flicks the lighter open and brings it close to the suitcase, which he has now set up on the table next to the couch. He opens the suitcase and grabs the first piece of paper on top. It is a picture of him around six years earlier, with short black hair and a snake-like grin. He moves the lighter over to the section that says "name," and then exhales for the first time in the past few minutes.
Brimstone: Mah-hone?
The Shadow: It's pronounced "man."
Brimstone: I didn't know it could be spelled "Mahon" and pronounced like that.
The Shadow: You learn something new every day, don't you?
Brimstone: Heh...you have no idea.
He continues to look at the file, and he smiles and chuckles, completely taken aback by this revelation.
Brimstone: Nicholas Mahon...
He says it with immense pleasure. It's like being born all over again. He moves the lighter closer to the other files, and then looks through each of them as well. And yet, with every word that he reads, it sounds more and more familiar.
The Shadow: Your name, as you have figured out, is Nicholas Mahon. You were born August 13th, 1971 in Los Angeles, California.
He can see all of this, but he still pays attention with one ear as the Shadow continues to speak. Simultaneously, he flips through all of the papers...and it gets more and more familiar. And now he knows why.
Brimstone: These...these are the files I gave Tom...
The Shadow: Your father was William Mahon, who later adopted the name "Billy the Bull." He was the prime worker for one of California's most notorious crime bosses, James Foster, whom you later ended up killing.
Brimstone: So Tom didn't burn them...
The Shadow: You later ended up disappearing from Los Angeles, presumed dead, and for the most part, everybody forgot who you were. Instead, you showed up in New York City, where you made quite a name for yourself.
And now he understands. He drops the files unevenly back in the suitcase, rises tall, and looks at the outline of the Shadow. He snaps the lighter shut, and now his once cheery demeanor has become one of shock.
Brimstone: You...you killed Tom...?
The Shadow stops his life, and the cigarette brightens and dims once again. There is a brief pause as the cigarette lowers to the right side of the Shadow.
The Shadow: Yes.
Brimstone: ...why?
There is another pause, and then he continues.
The Shadow: You made an alliance with the Pulcinni family and with the Tughazzi family. You brought them to the brink of war, and because of you and you alone, those names are now completely dead. All that remained from those warring factions of the later 90's was you and your friends.
Brimstone: I know all of this! Why are you telling me!?
The Shadow: You soon received a business proposition from a mysterious man whom you dubbed "The Shadow."
Brimstone: Wait...you're...you're not---?
The Shadow: This man was quite rich, as you yourself pointed out. He gave you a few jobs here and there, and when you completed them, you were paid quite a healthy sum. And this is why neither you nor your friends complained. Eventually, however, he gave you another job. It was your last job before your unfortunate accident.
Brimstone: What accident?
For the first time, "The Shadow" actually acknowledges his question.
The Shadow: The accident that led to your condition.
Brimstone tries to speak, but every time he moves his lips, only air escapes.
Brimstone: What happened to me?
Silence, but only for a moment.
The Shadow: This job was simple: you were to follow a man and gather information on him. You did not react any differently to this job than any other...because it was exactly like the others. Your boss never told you to do anything strange until he asked you to kill the man. The reason it caught you off guard is because it was the first time he had made such a request. But to you, it was just another kill. You accepted.
Brimstone slowly shakes his head, and begins to mumble to himself.
Brimstone: What are you...why...?
The Shadow: You did nothing special for this job. You raised the gun, you pulled the trigger. And it was over. And afterwards, you had your accident.
Brimstone: WHAT FUCKING ACCIDENT!?
Silence.
Brimstone: Tell me! TELL ME!
He is beside himself right now, and he is almost on the verge of tears. But not tears from sadness...if anything, they represent the frustration and anger that has been building up in him this entire time. And it all leads to one final question.
Brimstone: Who are you?!
The man says nothing, and the lower half of his face disappears as the cigarette falls to the floor. He steps on it, and then moves his form over to the area where the light switch is. He flicks it on, and for the first time in a long time, Brimstone's locker room is bathed in light. Brimstone adjusts his eyes slightly, and then looks into the eyes of his tormentor. He knows those eyes, but not very well. When he sees them, they completely surprise him. What surprises him more, however, is when the man before him takes a gun out of his pocket, screws on a silencer, and points it directly at him. Brimstone takes a careful step back, but the couch behind him prevents him from escaping. He now has his answer...
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Post by Alicia "Atomic" Kitsune on May 19, 2007 15:03:09 GMT -5
Hunter: I'm the last man you ever killed.
Andrew Hunter pauses for a fraction of a second, and then, without a single sign of doubt, he pulls the trigger. Time seems to slow as the bullet flies from the barrel of the gun and penetrates Brimstone's gut, sending his blood splattering over the couch. Brimstone's eyes widen as he feels true pain for the first time in his life, and then collapses on the ground in a seated position, his back to the couch, his blood flowing all around him. Hunter looks at him with absolutely no remorse, and then approaches him slowly, never once turning his gaze away from Brimstone's eyes.
Hunter: Is that what you wanted? Hmm? Is that what you fucking wanted!?
Brimstone gasps for air as Hunter bends over to get closer to him.
Hunter: Now, I like to consider myself a good person. Sure I'm killing you, and sure you're not the first guy I've ever shot, with or without the intention to kill. But every time I've done this, all I've had was a noble purpose. Does nobility create innocence? I suppose that's something to be discussed at a later time. My point, I'm sure, is what you're looking for. And it's simple: I will give you what you didn't have the courtesy to give me: answers.
He gets to his feet and looks at the gun with a hint of pleasure.
Hunter: I told you the basics, and I'm sure you knew most of that by now. So let's skip to what you didn't know: that guy you called "The Shadow?" Your boss? His name...is Jeffrey B. Lexon.
Brimstone's eyes slightly widen; he may have kept his knowledge of the outside world to a minimum, but the name still means something to him.
Hunter: You worked for him only around five or so years, probably less. He gave you jobs such as the one I described. Eventually, he gave you me. But he wanted to toy with me, and he gave you full permission to do so on his behalf, including leading me on the wrong path, and killing the one woman I ever loved. He wanted me to trust you...and I did. And he also wanted me to know you under a false name. And so he asked you and your friends to use nicknames.
He sighs angrily, as if attempting to forget a more troublesome part of his life. And, if anything, that is exactly what he is doing.
Hunter: Your friend Robert Brooks? I knew him as Mr. Waters. Your friend Frankie "Damage" Owens? I knew him as Mr. Truman. Tom Falter? I knew him as Mr. Grimm. And you...?
He leans in close yet again, making sure to speak only when Brimstone's eyes are staring into his.
Hunter: You, Nicholas Mahon...I knew you as Damien Cross.
He backs up slightly, letting Brimstone take it in, but only briefly.
Hunter: One fateful night, I made my way into Lexon's building. I killed your friend Rob, and I killed your friend Frankie. And I was going to kill Lexon...but then you showed up. You shot me. And as far as you were concerned, I was dead. But I've got a little secret for you, Nicky...
He smiles.
Hunter: ...I wasn't. No magic, no stand-ins, no fucking snow globes. You didn't kill me. And you made the mistake of assuming you did. And then...it happened. In truth, it was exactly what they refer to as a "freak accident."
He says the last two words by accentuating them with quickly folding fingers.
Hunter: You were carrying my body outside, planning to dispose of me in your trunk. And the moment that you stepped onto the street...a car came. Complete chance, Nicky. Complete...chance. And it hit you, not me. You turned me away from the car. I don't know why, but I guess I've gotta thank you for it, eh? The driver came out of the car, saw the damage, and...well, I had blacked out. But when I woke up a day or so later, the doctor informed me that the driver had taken the two of us to the hospital.
He rises once more, and begins to pace slightly, as if stretching his legs.
Hunter: The doctor asked me if I knew who you were. I asked him why he would ask me something like that. And he told me that you had absolutely no identification on you. And so do you know what I told him?
Brimstone tries to form a word, but Hunter interjects before he can completely form it.
Hunter: I said I didn't. I gave him some bullshit story about being mugged and shot, and that you were just saving me. And he bought it. And it was beautiful. But now you're wondering...where have I been all this time? How was I able to stay hidden for half a year? How did I fake the death that you worked so hard in trying to achieve in the first place?
He notices a hint of gold from behind Brimstone, and so he walks over to the couch and sees the International Title. He picks it up and looks at its front, which is almost completely covered in blood. He chuckles slightly, and then throws it off to the side, and then returns to his standing position directly before Brimstone.
Hunter: To answer that...well, I won't. I gave you the only things you needed to know. The rest is for me.
Brimstone continues to try his best to form some words, and to Hunter's surprise, he succeeds.
Brimstone: You...killed...Tom...?
Hunter: Yes, we established that already.
Brimstone: Why...?
Hunter: I'm afraid that falls under the "rest is for me" category, but thanks for trying anyway.
He adjusts the silencer on the top of the gun, making sure it is still wrapped tight around the barrel of the gun.
Hunter: By the way, Nicky, there's apparently something your dad never taught you out there in the woods. It's the primary rule of being a hitman. You ready?
He pauses for a moment, and can clearly see Brimstone's eyes turn from pain to hate in a matter of moments. And all this does is excite him.
Hunter: When you kill a man...
He points the gun at Brimstone's head.
Hunter: ...make sure he stays dead.
There is no loud bang or crash as Brimstone's head flies back into the couch at an incredibly fast speed, seemingly snapping his neck at the same time. The large hole in his forehead erupts, and blood begins to pour out of it, and it spreads itself around the couch that he had spent so much time on. Hunter's somewhat cheery expression fades into a very stern look as he twists off the silencer and places it back in his pocket. He then follows suit with the gun, and checks his feet to make sure there is no blood on them. Once satisfied, he approaches the door and shuts off the lights. He then opens the door and looks outside quickly. Nothing. And so he throws on the hood of his coat, pulls it down even lower, and then simply walks off, far away from the carnage, far away from the pain, and far away from the memories. All this is is just another chapter for him. But he is not done.
There is one more thing he has to do.
Fade to black.
End of Show.
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Post by xs3 on May 19, 2007 15:05:39 GMT -5
This was a great show and I still can't believe Nick had enough time to write that Ironman match. Great job to everyone who participated.
Hunter, you twist whore. >_<
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Post by Wyvern on May 19, 2007 15:09:16 GMT -5
Hoorah! Brimstone kicked the bucket!
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Post by Thunderkiss on May 19, 2007 15:12:24 GMT -5
"Hi, my name is Hunter, and I owned this show.
Thank you for watching."
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Post by hunter on May 19, 2007 16:32:29 GMT -5
"Hi, my name is Hunter, and I owned this show. Thank you for watching." This. <_<
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Post by starkweather on May 19, 2007 16:46:33 GMT -5
And he's modest too, don't forget modest.
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Post by hunter on May 19, 2007 16:51:54 GMT -5
*sarcastically modest
But, as for a real comment, hoorah indeed. Awesome show all, OE is shaping up quite nicely.
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Jake
Members
Too fabulous for a title.....
Guido's reaction to Taylor's ban...JAGERBOMBS ALL AROUND!
Posts: 3,683
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Post by Jake on May 19, 2007 17:44:18 GMT -5
*Jake puts on hood and beat plays in the background*
Yo, what just happened Hunter stole the show I finally beat London Using his kidnapped ho
Well its he good he's back He our #1 Jew Hebrew Hammerz unite to beat all of you!
*fold arm and nods*
Yay Hunter. yay beating London. TO OMEGA EFFECT THREEEEEEEE
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Rena
New Member
Posts: 10
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Post by Rena on May 19, 2007 18:24:50 GMT -5
Does anyone feel the twilight zone when both mine and Hunter's secondary character's died and our primaries have come back? >.>
Great SHow bitches.
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Post by hunter on May 20, 2007 7:11:26 GMT -5
Knowing you, you decided to that like...a month ago at most. I had it planned since before Hunter died, including the day it would happen.
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Post by Rattlesnake on May 20, 2007 10:33:41 GMT -5
*prepares himself for another complex storyline explaining the disappearance of Hunter that practically is so far-fetched that no one here will even question it because that just how Hunter rolls and if it were done through any other person, we'd have such a situation on our hands that Hunter would probably bitch and moan and whatever about it not being his idea and that no one is even allowed to do something like that*
I mean...awesome show.
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