I Remember - Part Two (Castle of Glass)

[Ghost Spike]

It seems like at least someone out there knows who I am, and what I represent. Someone actually pays attention, which isn’t exactly something I can say about ninety fucking percent of this roster…..you see, they get it.

I am the God of Xtreme.

….and I’m going to be IWF’s first ever Extreme Champion.

As of High Stakes this championship I hold, with pride I might add, will no longer be called the Invictus Championship, it will instead be known as the Extreme Championship. Do you know what that means? It means I’m going to be the last ever Invictus Champion, and the first ever Extreme Champion. Let me clarify that in case anybody doesn’t quite understand what I’m trying to say…

I’m going to enter the Roulette at number two, and I’m going to walk out both the winner and the Extreme Champion.

I tried to be as clear as I could when I last spoke. I’m not here to make up the numbers, I’m not here to take part, I’m here to crush every single one of you fuckers and storm my way to that Roulette Victory. Everyone seems to have this idea that I’m just here to protect Angel, like he needs it? I’m here to win, plain and simple. If that leads to me and Angel fighting for the world title at Night of the Immortals? We’ll deal with it, like grown ass men. No snidey comments on twitter, no stupid hashtags, no bandwaggoning, no prayer circles, or care bear hugging sessions….just two hard ass nails motherfuckers slogging it out in the ring.

I wish I could say that about any single one of you stepping into the roulette, but I just can’t.

I feel like the only adult stepping into this match with a bunch of whiney, excuse making, cry baby, suck up little kids. Oh! Spike, you did a bad thing because you lost a match or two, we always knew you would, blah blah blah…

When have I ever presented myself as anything but Spike Fucking Kane?

You choose to hate me, you choose to support me, you choose to throw barbs at me, but at the end of the day? It doesn’t really matter does it? Andrew Jacobsen hated me, and we put on some of the best matches that have happened here in IWF, then he respected me, and guess what? We continued to put on some of the best matches this company has ever seen. Do you know what the common denominator is?

ME.

Everybody going into this match has a bone to pick with me, no? I mean correct me if I’m wrong, but everyone has some reason to want to kick me when I’m down. To try and steal my championship, or to try and eliminate me. Enact some kind of justice or revenge for whatever fucked up thing they think I’ve done, because it’s easy to blame somebody else, right? It’s easy to blame the big bad God of Xtreme, instead of accepting the obvious facts that lay out there before you all, before Mike Laszlo, before Dean Harper, before Devlin Raine, before Nighthawk, before Pax Stormcrow, and before Andrew Jacobsen…

You’re all failures.

---

“I remember….”

I remember walking into that place, the heads of everyone turning to look at me. I could barely keep my emotions in check. I was still a wreck, the memories of losing my family so fresh in my mind. Now I’m going to be here in what was for all intents and purposes a foreign country, alone? I never would have admitted it back then, but I was terrified. I didn’t know anybody, and I figured this place would be just like school, it’d have it’s cliq’s it’d have it’s bullies and nobody ever liked the new kid. On one hand I’m walking through thinking to myself I’ve got to find the biggest baddest guy and put him on his ass, on the other hand I’m thinking I just want to find a corner and cry myself to sleep. I was just a kid, so alone and scared. It didn’t take them long to find me, they began by throwing potatoes at me, original right? Names like “pikey” and all sorts of shit, like I was some sort of tramp or traveler. We weren’t exactly rich, but we weren’t poor either. My Dad supported us…..now here I was, nothing.

I’d never been so angry in my life.

It didn’t take them long to find me alone. They cornered me in some hallway, I’d been given the “role” of sweeping and mopping it. It’s crazy, because you don’t expect kids to act that way, like some twisted prison movie…..but they did, they cut my escape routes off, and they beat ten shades of shit out of me. Left my laying there like a broken mess. I don’t know what they expected, that I’d give up? That I’d run away? That I’d somehow join them and do the same to other kids. It didn’t happen, of course, and I’d soon find out why everyone in that shithole was such a psychopath. It had been maybe two weeks, I barely left my bunk, barely spoke to anybody when the lights came on around midnight. It was like a flood of searing light, and in front of the door there stood one man, his name was Conrad Jones.

He’s the sickest son of a bitch I’ve ever met.

He brought us downstairs, single file, no talking. I can remember still rubbing sleep out of my eyes when we entered the basement. It was bare, no furniture, no paint on the walls or anything. Just pillars around the room, and in the center, smack bank in the middle was what could only be called a circular pit. I remember looking around, seeing a few shocked faces, but the majority seemed to know what was calling. Then I saw the ones who were flanking Conrad, the ones who’d been beating me up, giving me shit from day one….and they were all smiling. If I knew then what I know now? I probably would have turned and tried to run, but I was young….and to be honest, I just didn’t know better….only after the first punch was thrown did I realise, this was some fucked up shit and this sick bastard was getting these kids to fight each other.

It was barbaric.

The whole orphanage was in on it. Those who fought and won? Were treated better than everyone else. They got rooms, extra food, more treats….but you lost? Then fuck...it was like being in Oliver Twist. Gruel, chores, and bed. I could only take it for so long, Conrad put me in a fight with my only friend James…..some of you might remember this story, but I’ll never forget - it’s ingrained in my memory - because it changed everything. James caught me with a punch that sent me spralling, we’d had an agreement before hand that we’d try and go easy on each other, but when that punch landed? I caught “D” the leader of the kids who’d bullied me laughing at me….and something just snapped.

I beat the holy fuck out of my only friend.

It was nearly twenty years til I saw James again. They carried him away, blood covering his face, and everyone was cheering me. Even the kids who’d been kicking the crap out of me and calling me all the names under the sun, were cheering for me, but me? All I could do was stare at the blood on my hands…..

I firmly believe that the “Blood God” was born that day.

I was taken to a room, cleaned up, and sent to sleep somewhere else. Somewhere….”privileged” which of course, just happened to be with “D” that’s when he let me in on the secret, the secret that spun my world upside down and just left me with so many questions I couldn’t even process it all. Conrad Jones? He was my old man…...my old man had faked his death, wanted for god knows what as a member of the I.R.A. he faked his death and had plastic surgery to change his appearance. I just couldn’t understand…

Why would he do this to his family?

Why would he put us all through so much pain?

Why was he getting others to beat me up?

…...why did he let my Mom die?

I knew that “D” only told me to fuck with me, but once the revelation came out? It was just a matter of time before Conrad and I met on this collision course…..I wanted answers, and I was going to get them…

Even if I had to beat the shit out of every kid there.

---

It’s almost funny to me, sitting here and listening to everyone making their boasts, everyone dropping their threats. Claiming to be the best in the world, like that’s so original. Claiming to do everything within their power to either make sure I lose my title, or make sure I don’t win the roulette. Everyone. Every single one of them has come out and said something like this, so that means there’s going to be twenty nine people ganging up on me, just because they don’t want me to win something, just to stop me from achieving a goal that they themselves won’t be able to do.

Doesn’t that ring of pettiness?

Doesn’t that seem a little over the top?

Does that really seem fair?

Because IWF is all about fairness, right? We have to be fair to this new pathetic generation of wrestler, or they might go and cry on twitter, or take their ball and go home, right? We have to give absolute cuntbags like James Gilmore fifty million chances, because otherwise we’ll all be in for one hell of an essay of bollockings from Fiona on twitter right? Miss “I’ve had more title shots than most of the mens roster combined” McFly. Someone desperately trying to cling to whatever relevance they once had, or you know attempting to make themselves relevant for the first time. Reminds me of the likes of Devlin Raine. I hope all four of his fans don’t miss him when he honours his word and leaves when he fails to win the Roulette. That t-shirt merch money loss is really going to effect Roberto’s bottom line, eh?

Don’t worry, I’ll make a new InFamous shirt and it’ll sell out in a week just to make up for it.

Everyone wants to take me out, and nobody will admit to the REAL reason why. Because Spike Kane is that Great White. Everyone’s White Wale. Taking out Spike Kane? It puts you on the map immediately. Look at what it did for Devlin Raine last year, before he pissed it all down the drain of course. Pax Stormcrow has made no secret of wanting to build a legacy, at my expense. Nighthawk has tried time and time again to put me down, tried over and over to get that elusive victory, but he just can’t. When he measures up to me? He’s the master of getting beaten. I could talk about how much of a waste of time Mike Laszlo is for days, but he….just like Devlin, just like Pax, and just like Nighthawk….are trying so desperately to be relevant.

Don’t you find it funny that they are guilty of exactly what they proclaim I am doing?

Forgive me for a moment, but when the fuck has Spike Kane NOT been relevant?

I am the longest reigning Man of Steel Champion. I was the first REAL Imperial Champion. I brought the Dragon’s Den to IWF. I’m one half of the undefeated tag team champions. I am the ONLY man to have won every active title, and you know what? Even when I lost the Man of Steel Championship at Night of the Immortals? I was still in the main event, I still EARNED the right to be number one contender, and I had Imperial Title matches with Andrew Jacobsen….so I guess what I’m saying is, Spike Kane is always on top.

Now to the rest of you?

What have YOU done lately?

Besides losing that is.

Exactly.

You’re all a bunch of self absorbed hypocrites, who would rather lash out at me because I’m such a big and easy target than take a look at yourselves. Well I have some bad news for you all, you see, I’ve made a career out of defying the odds, out of proving people wrong, and doing things I’ve always been told I’d never be able to do…..so what if you hate me for being honest about myself? I couldn’t give two shits. All that matters, is I’m going into the Roulette with a target on my back, and I’m going to use that to my advantage. Everyone will be in such a rush to eliminate me, in such a hurry to try and capitalise on any mistakes or advantages….the adrenaline will kick in, and that’s where my experience and smarts comes in. I’ll happily stand there, right in the middle of the ring, and throw every single fucking one of you over that top rope…

Because it’s my time.

I’m done being second fiddle.

I’m walking out of that roulette the winner, or I’m not walking out at all. It’s as simple as that. When the dust settles….you’ll all be looking up at me the victor, you’ll all realise the folly of your ways and your hypocrisy, but most of all?

You will all…

BLOODY!

HAIL!