Post by Brother Zachariah on May 27, 2018 17:02:04 GMT -5
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The scene awoke to the monochromatic tone of a cold and seemingly abandoned locker room. Brother Zachariah, fully clad in his wrestling gear (i.e. bicep-to-wrist wristbands, dark nylon trunks, kneepads, and padded wrestling boots with a dark cotton towel draped over his head) legs driven at a decent part, elbows propped on his thighs, and head suspended between his shoulders. No movements are recorded outside of his steady breathing. No words uttered.
"As painful as it is for me to admit it, Equinox has prevailed and successfully defended the Television Title – there is no denying what was depicted on the screens of millions. At the toll of the concluding bell was he, at the summit of the twelve foot ladder with said Title in the fold of his fist, and Raab and I, wallowing in a small pond of broken wood." Due to the chill of the room and the expansion of his ribs, a deep sigh could be seen expelling from his body. "Yet I find myself grappling with it. Questioning the role of certain provisions that may have played a role in the match reaching such an unforeseen result. I firmly believe that if he did not insist that the stipulation for our 3-Way Dance be a Ladder match, the outcome would have been different...far different."
He takes a brief pause in dialogue, bringing his fingertips together in a prayer-like formation as he indulges further into the topic.
"I suppose I should be flattered, amused, or sympathetic to his plight – his moment of desperation – his fight to retain something he’s only recently proven himself unworthy of…but I’m not. As a man who’s built a reputation for being a daredevil; someone who not only enjoys but tackles obstacles and challenges he encounters by raising the stakes, how could he be so cowardly to get in the ear of management and alter the match to his advantage? I understand that he often refers to himself as ‘The Highspot Hero’, but these - in all honesty - are not the actions of a Hero. A fireman wouldn’t allow a burning plank prevent him from saving the child on the opposite side of it. A policeman wouldn’t engage a gun toting bank robber using a pedestrian as a human shield. And a ‘Highspot Hero’ wouldn’t fold when met with unwinnable odds. Had he sacked up and merely fought in the original proposed stipulation, win or lose, I would’ve had an ounce of respect for him; but in light of this farce, my respect for him has been incinerated and my desire for vengeance has deepened...alas, it will have to be put on the backburner. For the moment of truth is upon us."
Riot Control was holding a huge Battle Royal that would crown the next World Heavyweight Champion. Precisely what he’d come to the GZWA to claim. As he was taught by his Father at a young age, he believed he was born to excel in the business. To perform and accomplish the things his Father didn’t. It was because of that, the World Title (or as he would call it, the Demon’s Horn) meant such a great deal to him.
"I have been eyeing the Demon’s Horn from the moment Zeros pried it from the gaping jaws of that harlot; and now, after months of the biggest crown being without a suitable holder, a Champion will be crowned…a man will rise to prominence…a prophecy will be fulfilled at Riot Control. I was genetically wired to perform and be successful in this business. I was crafted and born unto this dreary world for the sole purpose to rule it – to claim it! I do not intend on making a lie of the prophecy; I will storm into the ring and demolish ALL who oppose me – and yes, that does include The Doombringer. I saw him as a mentor, a guiding light, a friend, and a confidant. But as of late, he hasn’t been any of that to me. I summoned him to this world to lead me to the Demon’s Horn, not for him to seize it for himself. At this moment, I don’t know what to think…I don’t know where our relationship lies…but from where I’m standing it appears to be in the grave he’s marked for the many he intends on laying to rest. I’m certain his true intent will be revealed at Riot Control. Once and for all, we shall see if he is friend or foe."
As the camera honed in on Brother Zachariah, his glare would change focus from the ground to the eye of the lens. Removing the towel from his skull, revealing that disturbing onyx and crimson coating sending a cold chill lurking down the spines of whoever was watching.
"I shouldn’t have to tell you, the masses, that there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to secure the Demon’s Horn for myself, because you’re all very aware of that. It has been a reoccurring theme in many of my monologues. It’s my passion and reason for enduring the hardship, the pain, and the disappointment. It’s my light at the foot of the deep dark tunnel which promises me freedom from the torture of its endless depths. The bodies of over two dozen will be wasted…my carnage will decorate the ring and burn in the minds of thousands…this night will be one talked about for ages and relished on as the moment Brother Zachariah ascended from a mere Sorcerer to a King."
The scene fades to black in conclusion.
"As painful as it is for me to admit it, Equinox has prevailed and successfully defended the Television Title – there is no denying what was depicted on the screens of millions. At the toll of the concluding bell was he, at the summit of the twelve foot ladder with said Title in the fold of his fist, and Raab and I, wallowing in a small pond of broken wood." Due to the chill of the room and the expansion of his ribs, a deep sigh could be seen expelling from his body. "Yet I find myself grappling with it. Questioning the role of certain provisions that may have played a role in the match reaching such an unforeseen result. I firmly believe that if he did not insist that the stipulation for our 3-Way Dance be a Ladder match, the outcome would have been different...far different."
He takes a brief pause in dialogue, bringing his fingertips together in a prayer-like formation as he indulges further into the topic.
"I suppose I should be flattered, amused, or sympathetic to his plight – his moment of desperation – his fight to retain something he’s only recently proven himself unworthy of…but I’m not. As a man who’s built a reputation for being a daredevil; someone who not only enjoys but tackles obstacles and challenges he encounters by raising the stakes, how could he be so cowardly to get in the ear of management and alter the match to his advantage? I understand that he often refers to himself as ‘The Highspot Hero’, but these - in all honesty - are not the actions of a Hero. A fireman wouldn’t allow a burning plank prevent him from saving the child on the opposite side of it. A policeman wouldn’t engage a gun toting bank robber using a pedestrian as a human shield. And a ‘Highspot Hero’ wouldn’t fold when met with unwinnable odds. Had he sacked up and merely fought in the original proposed stipulation, win or lose, I would’ve had an ounce of respect for him; but in light of this farce, my respect for him has been incinerated and my desire for vengeance has deepened...alas, it will have to be put on the backburner. For the moment of truth is upon us."
Riot Control was holding a huge Battle Royal that would crown the next World Heavyweight Champion. Precisely what he’d come to the GZWA to claim. As he was taught by his Father at a young age, he believed he was born to excel in the business. To perform and accomplish the things his Father didn’t. It was because of that, the World Title (or as he would call it, the Demon’s Horn) meant such a great deal to him.
"I have been eyeing the Demon’s Horn from the moment Zeros pried it from the gaping jaws of that harlot; and now, after months of the biggest crown being without a suitable holder, a Champion will be crowned…a man will rise to prominence…a prophecy will be fulfilled at Riot Control. I was genetically wired to perform and be successful in this business. I was crafted and born unto this dreary world for the sole purpose to rule it – to claim it! I do not intend on making a lie of the prophecy; I will storm into the ring and demolish ALL who oppose me – and yes, that does include The Doombringer. I saw him as a mentor, a guiding light, a friend, and a confidant. But as of late, he hasn’t been any of that to me. I summoned him to this world to lead me to the Demon’s Horn, not for him to seize it for himself. At this moment, I don’t know what to think…I don’t know where our relationship lies…but from where I’m standing it appears to be in the grave he’s marked for the many he intends on laying to rest. I’m certain his true intent will be revealed at Riot Control. Once and for all, we shall see if he is friend or foe."
As the camera honed in on Brother Zachariah, his glare would change focus from the ground to the eye of the lens. Removing the towel from his skull, revealing that disturbing onyx and crimson coating sending a cold chill lurking down the spines of whoever was watching.
"I shouldn’t have to tell you, the masses, that there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to secure the Demon’s Horn for myself, because you’re all very aware of that. It has been a reoccurring theme in many of my monologues. It’s my passion and reason for enduring the hardship, the pain, and the disappointment. It’s my light at the foot of the deep dark tunnel which promises me freedom from the torture of its endless depths. The bodies of over two dozen will be wasted…my carnage will decorate the ring and burn in the minds of thousands…this night will be one talked about for ages and relished on as the moment Brother Zachariah ascended from a mere Sorcerer to a King."
The scene fades to black in conclusion.
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