Post by Sabin / Madjinn on Jul 20, 2023 16:28:54 GMT
SACRIFICE
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Sabin– Wraith– stands inside of the lavatory of his locker room. The crystal eyes of the second generation are locked on the mirror in front of him– staring at himself, and checking the damage that was done against him during his match against James Gilmore. Blood trickles down the face of the IWF World Television Champion and Tag Team Champion… but his lips curl into a grin, and just as he closes his eyes, he can hear everything that had occurred as if it were still happening. The roar of the crowd. The maniacal laughter. He could feel the sting from every elbow that struck his head.
A sudden touch startles him, though, and his eyes jolt open… he sees Brandy Cvetkova, The Black Widow, sporting a wicked smile of her own while her fingernails trace a circle gently on Sabin’s back.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” Sabin says as he draws in a deep breath in a manner to shake off the short recollection of what had occurred inside of the ring, and bring him back to the current moment. He hunches forward ever so slightly and begins scrubbing the dried blood from his hands.
“You know how much I love watching them squirm…” Brandy bites down on her bottom lip. She leans against the counter and runs her fingernail against Sabin’s cheek, gathering some of his blood before licking it clean. Her breath shakes, rolling her eyes almost to the back of her head after the mere taste, as if she had reached her own ecstasy. She gives a bit of a forceful grab to the young son, spinning him around and pressing herself against him, “What was it like? What did you feel?”
“I felt–” Sabin’s own voice shakes when he feels her breath against his neck, “I felt him break. I felt him suffer– I… I… I felt…”
Sabin grabs Brandy's hair and gives it a tug, and her head goes back ever so slightly which only seems to excite her more when her smile becomes wider.
“Yes?” Brandy asks as a means to suggest for Sabin to continue.
“I felt unstoppable. I felt powerful. I feel like–” Sabin’s own voice trails away and his nostrils flare up momentarily when he snorts lightly, and a hopeful tone in his voice, “I feel like nothing is going to stop me from finally winning Heir to the Throne, and I feel like– nothing is going to stop me.”
Shaking his head, Sabin does take a step away from Brandy while considering the position that he has found himself in… Like Angel, his stepfather, before him, he is a double champion; Angel paraded around as the IWF Men’s World Champion as well as one-half of the IWF World Tag Team Champions for eight months. Sabin– Wraith– was now parading around as the IWF World Television Champion, and still the other half of the IWF World Tag Team Champions, and he was en route to do something that no other man had done before: win Heir to the Throne and fight for the IWF Men’s World Championship… win… the IWF Men’s World Championship.
“I don’t want to wait another year, Brandy,” Sabin mutters, “I want to be Heir to the Throne this year. I want to fight Dean… this… year…”
Brandy closes the distance to Sabin again, and caresses his cheek. With a wicked smile, she answers, “Be the monster you were meant to be. Show them all..”
PRESENT DAY
Heir to the Throne was underway, and week one had brought a prize that Wraith had not expected: the IWF World Television Championship. The championship that Nick Danger had fought to attain time after time after time, but the brash third generation star had bit off a bit more than he could chew…because there it sat, proudly, on the monster’s shoulder. However, with the acquisition of the championship that would earn Sabin the title of triple crown champion, came a duty; a responsibility… a responsibility to defend the title. The monster, Wraith, sits on the throne with a confident, arrogant smirk on his face… Blood trickles down his face and just as a droplet passes his lip, he bares his canine teeth, as if a wolf were baring its fangs.
A low chuckle escapes from behind his lips and he beckons, “WELCOME! Welcome, TJ Alexander! I see that you have– made yourself a little comfortable. Are you… comfortable?” He asks while sinking a little bit into the throne.
“I hope so, TJ! I really do! I hope you are quite comfortable after having tasted victory– first impressions and all that jazz, right? Everybody wants to start on the right foot when they first come into a company, and that was exactly what you did, and that, I am sure, is why you are the one that is standing against me at Bloody Assizes this week rather than somebody else! Somebody who has been around our block a couple of times! Somebody who does deserve to have a shot against… me.”
A momentary silence befalls the young conqueror as he traces his tongue across his lips, and his eyes narrow a little bit; as if a hunter narrowing to fire an arrow at an unsuspecting target. He scrunches his face momentarily, and snorts out heavily, then scratches his nail against the side of his head, “You see, I’m looking at you, and I know… TJ… I know you are in some unfamiliar territory. You are the outsider, and you are looking to make a huge wave by gaining a victory over one of the greatest that this industry has ever seen. MAKE! NO! MISTAKE! I am exactly what I say I am, and I am the monster that is going to give you a much greater welcoming party… TJ Alexander! What do you call yourself? What do you believe about yourself? Do you believe that you are a prodigy? A twenty-two-year old world champion…” Wraith scoffs.
“Twenty-two?!” He repeats in a mocking tone, and slightly readjusts his posture, “There are people who have spent their whole careers fighting for the chance to win the grandest prize in professional wrestling, and then it is a cruel reality that it is just not meant for some people to attain it…”
His gaze falters from the audience for a brief moment when he considers that heartbreaking fact in this line of work. He smacks his lips together, and licks them before resuming, “My father– my biological…father… fought for that prize so many times, and every single time that he fought for it, he had to come home, hanging his head in shame. It was a dream… It will always be his dream.”
A contemplative sigh escapes from the monster, a glimpse to the boy beyond the monster when he considers how many times he had to see the image of defeat, but he ultimately shakes the dreaded feeling and raises its gaze, the piercing red irises almost glowing as he scrunches his face, sneering, “But I’m not my father, TJ. Twenty-two-years old?! I did it at NINETEEN! I am the youngest to ever win the championship, and I am on the path to take it for a second time! When you look at me, TJ, I want you to know that you are looking at someone… younger than you, you are looking at someone stronger than you, you are looking at someone BETTER than you! But– there is something about you that I just–” He grits his teeth, “I just do not like.”
Unable to restrain from snarling and sneering at the mere thought of his intended target, TJ Alexander, Wraith hunches forward and presses his elbows against his knees while clasping his hands together.
“When I step into the ring, the word unfamiliar does not come to me… Because I am a hunter, TJ. I’m a predator! I’m a fighter! I’m a warrior! I’m a conqueror! I do not go to the hunt unprepared… I familiarize myself with everything I can, but you! YOU! Play it off. You dismiss. You take it easy. I am not that person that you want to overlook… I am not that person you want to step into the ring blindly, because people who know me– people who know what I am capable of have gone into that ring, and I have broken them! I have taken everything from them! Those are the people… who know me. If you come to this fight blindly, I am going to shred you to pieces, and there is not going to be one person who will be able to identify your body by the time I finish.”
Wraith snarls again and chatters his teeth a couple of times.
“For your sake,” He tilts his head to one side, and then the other before finishing his statement, “Know my name.”
A heavy growl is heard resonating throughout the area before the scene goes completely black.
END.