Post by Tytus Rost on Nov 10, 2024 14:51:28 GMT
Tytus sat in the passenger seat of Berrick’s beat-up old pickup, his arms crossed over his chest, gazing out the window at the open road. The Texas countryside flew by in a blur of dry fields and low, scrubby trees. It was a long haul from his farm in Texarkana to San Antonio, and the drive offered plenty of time for thinking. The rumble of the truck’s engine served as a comforting hum in the background as he turned over his thoughts, his mind racing as fast as the miles disappearing behind them.
“This is it, huh?” Berrick’s voice broke the silence, pulling Tytus from his thoughts. “This is where everything comes to a head. Eight-man tag match. Not just any tag match, either. Got a lot at stake this time.”
“Da,” Tytus replied, eyes still on the road. “Not just about winning or losing. The first pin gets the final spot in Survival of the Fittest. Last entry… that is the key to victory.”
Berrick smirked, his gaze flicking over to Tytus as he shifted gears to pass an old sedan lumbering along the highway. “You know what that means, then. You better be the one landing that pinfall. Last thing you want is to be the first one in there. And with that ragtag group of partners, it’s not going to be easy.”
A low chuckle escaped Tytus. “You think I do not know this? One mistake, tovarishch, and I am first in. All it takes is one of them dropping the ball, and everything that I have worked for… gone. i am not in mood to play babysitter, Berrick.”
Berrick nodded, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to glance at Tytus, reading the tension in his jaw. “So, tell me then. What do you think of this crew you’ve got lined up for Sacrifice?”
Tytus let out a sigh, rubbing a hand across his face as he considered his makeshift team. “TJ Alexander... quick, agile... we have seen his type before, da? This child has a lot of speed, I will give him that. Maybe he has also got the moves to catch our opponents off guard; but speed only goes so far. Against an opponent like me, or most of the others, one mistake is all it takes.”
Berrick snorted. “And he’s a bit of a loose cannon. All these flash moves are fine until he misses one and leaves you holding the bag.”
“Exactly,” Tytus replied, fingers drumming against his thigh. “Young Alexander is all flash. I believe that he thinks himself above his station, as though he has something to prove in being here. But the first time his luck runs out, who is left to clean up? He is talented but reckless. Not the kind of person I want determining my entry into the match.”
Berrick chuckled, turning his attention back to the road. “Fair. Who’s next on your little list of partners?”
“Natasha Walker,” Tytus replied, his voice hardening as he said her name. “She is ... persistent. I give her credit for that. Tougher than she looks, and she has earned a few victories of her own, even one over me. But for all of this drive, this... stubbornness, I feel as though the house of cards she has been building around herself is set to tumble at any moment.”
“She got you rattled, Ty?” Berrick asked, eyebrows raised with a smirk.
“Rattled? No,” Tytus scoffed. “Not over one victory - she does not know when to stay down. She thinks grit and tenacity are all she needs, but there is far more to it than that. You know, Berrick, we have been around long enough to know willpower alone does not win matches. It is experience, timing, strategy. I wonder if she understands that yet.”
Berrick let out a chuckle. “Experience? Well, that’s something you’ve got in spades, my friend. And from what I’ve heard, Serenity’s no greenhorn, either.”
Tytus’s jaw clenched slightly. “Da, Serenity Holmes... that one, she, my friend, is the wildcard. Current Invictus Champion, and that title has given her an inflated sense of invincibility. I will give it to her, she has earned it. Quick, sharp, a dangerous opponent. But she is cocky. Thinks that title makes her untouchable. But I have seen champions come and go. I know what it takes to stay on top...”
“So, you’re saying she’s overdue for a reality check?” Berrick asked, grinning as he pressed down on the accelerator, the truck gaining speed on a wide, empty stretch of road.
“Da,” Tytus replied with a slight smile of his own. “And maybe I’m the one to give it to her.”
They drove in silence for a while, the rhythmic hum of the tires on the pavement the only sound as the scenery began to shift. The landscape grew more arid, and the occasional cactus or tumbleweed appeared by the side of the road, a reminder of just how far south they were traveling.
Berrick glanced at Tytus again, his face serious now. “This match, Ty... it’s not just about getting that final spot. It’s about proving yourself. These last few weeks, you’ve been on fire. After a bad streak, you’re finally getting back up there. But this... this could be the match that cements you as the unstoppable force they all fear.”
Tytus nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “I know. This is not just about winning. It is about setting an example. These... teammates of mine? They are all young, hungry, thinking themselves invincible. They have no idea what it’s like to carry the weight of expectation, of years in this business. To feel the pressure of knowing that every match could be your last chance to prove yourself.”
“You’re the old lion in the pride now, Ty,” Berrick said, his voice softer but resolute. “But old lions... they’re the ones the others respect. You don’t get that kind of respect by playing it safe.”
Tytus’s lips curved into a slight, predatory smile. “No, you don’t. They will learn that soon enough. They will see what it means to go against someone who is more than just muscle or speed. Experience... brutality. They haven’t seen the kind of monster I can be.”
As they neared San Antonio, the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the road. The truck’s headlights flicked on, cutting through the darkening landscape as they continued their drive. The weight of the upcoming match hung in the air between them, each mile bringing them closer to what felt like a point of no return.
“I don’t envy your opponents,” Berrick said finally, breaking the silence. “They’re stepping into the ring with four people who’ll stop at nothing for that final entry spot. But I know one thing... if anyone’s walking out of there with that last entry, it’s going to be you.”
Tytus nodded slowly, determination flashing in his eyes. “I will not let anything stand in my way. Not my so-called teammates, not my opponents. If they think they can keep me down, they’re in for a rude awakening.”
The truck rumbled over a small bridge, and suddenly, a large green road sign appeared on the horizon, illuminated in the truck’s headlights as they drew nearer.
San Antonio City Limits
Tytus’s grip tightened on the armrest, his gaze hard and unwavering. The city lay ahead, sprawling and alive with lights, beckoning him toward his fate. This was where he would prove himself, where he would remind the world of who he was.
Well howdy there pardner.