Post by Dre Cutler on Nov 24, 2013 17:58:01 GMT
A lot of controversy surrounds last week's episode of Sacrifice. The biggest problem everyone has is that The Empire crucified a man on national television. I'm not sure how I feel about that one myself, but I was there, I took part in it, and what's done is done. But, at the end of the day, it's important for The Empire to remind everyone that we run this bitch. I think people choose to forget that; they start running around, doing what they please, fucking whomever they want. They act as if there aren't a set of rules, a system in place, for which they need to abide by. By doing so, they force our hands, and when they leave us with no other choice, all we can do is deliver consequences. That's what we did last week and that's what we will do in the future if people continue to run amuck.
Controversy also ensued when Lance Ryan announced his intention to join The Empire. I'm not sure how I feel about that one, either. But hey, it's not my decision to make, and if Spike felt like we could use him, I guess I'll just have to accept it. Welcome to The Empire, Lance. The food is hot and the women are free. Enjoy your time.
Lastly, controversy also reared its ugly head at the end of my match. Ryan Blade, perhaps taking one too many shots to the head by yours truly, forgot the script. And by forgetting the script, he lost his place in The Empire and his championship. And now, after months of battling in this company, I finally have some gold around my waist. But does that mean my hunger has been suppressed? Hardly.
Winning this championship is like having a midday snack. It'll hold me over until it's time for dinner, but it's not going to quench my desire for more.
My ultimate goal is to be the very best, to be on top of the proverbial mountain of professional wrestling. None of that has changed, everything still remains exactly as it has been. This title just serves a push in the right direction towards achieving my goal.
But, I can't rest easy, I can't relax, because my first title defense is mere days away at Survival of the Fittest. I think this is probably one of the hardest ways to defend a championship, but I'm not going to back away and cower in a corner. If there's one thing people need to know about Killian Creed, it's that I will never back away from a fight.
A five-on-five team match, pitting five champions against five challengers. Well, four of the ten total entrants are vaginas, so it's safe to eliminate those bitches from my mindset going into the contest. Ultimately, this match pits The Empire, Spike Kane, Gjenrei, and myself, against Davey Ortega, Rob Diamond, and Mason St. Croix. Our side is full of champions, while the other is full of scavenging challengers.
These are three men who not only hate The Empire, but would also like to add some IWF gold to their career record books. It's an interesting situation we find ourselves in.
But if last week's episode of Sacrifice shows the world anything, it's that The Empire define interesting, so this match isn't going to scare us away. It's just going to provide us with yet another platform for us to show the entire world just how dominating The Empire truly is.
-----
The daunting sounds of the various medical equipment creates a tense melody; one that fills the air with sadness and doubt. Lying in the hospital bed, hooked into all of the aforementioned machines, is a motionless Samantha Williams. Most of her body is hidden under the blankets, but the small portion that is revealed acts as the point of entry for various tubes and needles. It's not a pleasant sight, it's one that's very disheartening to anyone that sees it. Killian Creed is experiencing this first hand; he entered the room for the first time about five minutes ago, but he's been frozen in place halfway between her bed and the door.
Killian, clad in a pair of blue jeans and a black Alice in Chains t-shirt, looks at the love of his life with hurt in his eyes. A couple of tears are trying to escape from his eyes, brought to the surface by the horrific sight in front of him, but he quickly blinks and wipes them away, refusing to lose his cool because he feels like he needs to stay strong for Samantha. He takes a big deep breath, before gradually exhaling and taking a couple of steps towards the bed. He places a vase full of pink Roses, Sam's favorite, on the bedside table. He grabs one of the chairs in the room, dragging it closer to Sam, before sitting down at her bedside.
Killian Creed: I -- uh, you know, they say that -- I...
Creed's having a hard time finding his words, unable to say what's on the tip of his tongue because his mind isn't cooperating. He quickly wipes away a couple of new tears, one of which was halfway down his cheek. He takes another deep breath, trying to calm himself down, before slowly exhaling into what he wants to say.
Killian Creed: They say that you're doing good, Sam. I mean, I guess as good as can be expected in this situation, you know? They, uh, are trying to get everything back to normal. Your, uh, well -- your kidneys are working on their own again, but your lungs aren't cooperating. That's why they need all of these machines because your body isn't allowing you to breathe on your own.
He pauses for another moment, wiping away fresh tears and trying his best to fight away the urge to breakdown and sob. Killian isn't a man that cries often, but Sam holds his heart in her hands, even if she doesn't know it.
Killian Creed: They don't really know anything as far as a timetable goes, but I know everyone is working hard to get you back on your feet, Sam. I just -- God damnit, I'm sorry, Sam. I'm --
The battle is lost as his eyes are full of fresh tears, many of which are now gunning for an escape down his cheek. He leans forward, resting his head on the edge of the bed, and cries. He only allows himself to do this for a couple of seconds, remembering that he has to be strong for Sam, so he quickly grabs his shirt and uses it to clean his face the best he can.
Killian Creed: (whispering) I'm sorry, Sam. All of this, everything, it's my fault, you know? It's all because I lost my temper. You're here because of me. You're in this coma because of me. You're in this God damned hospital because of me! It's my fucking fault and I would do anything in the world to take it back. I'm sorry, Sam. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...
He trails off at the end, finding that it's harder and harder for him to talk while he tries to suppress the tears. He leans in closer to Sam, gently rubbing his fingers across her forehead as he looks at her for a moment, trying to gather within himself exactly what he wants to say next.
Killian Creed: I want you to know something, Sam. I don't know if you can hear anything I'm saying, but I have to tell you this. I should have told you this years ago, but I didn't because I'm a fucking idiot. It's that -- you know, I -- I love you, Sam. Okay? And whether you love me the way I love you or not, I want you to know that I love you more than anyone or anything in the entire world. I've always loved you, but I -- I don't know, I never said it.
Her left eye twitches, which causes Killian to jump a bit. He quickly glances at all of the machines, and even though he has no idea what they are for, he's hoping they can tell him something as far as if she's waking up or not. Everything is the same, though, as she's still motionless and the machines are still beeping in rhythm. The eye twitch could mean many of things or it could mean nothing, but she's still asleep. A dissatisfied sigh escapes from Killian's lips as he turns his attention back to Sam.
Killian Creed: I just -- I just wanted you to know that, Sam. I just -- yeah, I love you.
He slowly sits back in his chair, looking at Sam's face with teary eyes. He's still in a deathly battle with himself to contain his negative emotions, but his efforts are falling a bit short as his eyes become more engulfed in fresh tears. He pulls his shirt up to cover his face and, for the second time, he loses himself. He sits there, at Sam's bedside, and sobs. He sobs because he doesn't know what else to do, he sobs because he knows all of this, everything, is his fault...
-----
Mason St. Croix, first and foremost, let me thank you for serving our country. I'm sure you did some great things overseas like all American soldiers do, such as kill the children and rape their mothers. You probably started that, didn't you? You sick fuck. Unfortunately, you didn't eat a bullet over there like you should have; I guess it was because you were too busy eating all that Middle Eastern vagina, eh? They probably taste the same, anyway.
But alas, bullet or no bullet, here you are. A soldier, now a wrestler, who has been on one hell of a ride since arriving here a couple of months ago. It's funny how things turn out, right? I mean, you've yet to lose a match in this company. You fought your way into the Extinction Event. You've earned everything you've gotten along the way, Mason. But I have some news for you. You might think it's bad news, but I think it's good news, and guess what? My opinion is the only one that fucking matters, Mason.
This week, at Survival of the Fittest, Mason St. Croix's momentum train jumps the tracks. You're running into a buzz-saw, and while you may be too stupid to realize it, the danger is real and your career, as young as it may be in the wrestling ring, was all but over when you earned your spot in this match a couple of weeks ago.
Unlike last week, Davey Ortega isn't going to be watching out for you, he won't be there to carry your pathetic ass to victory in this match. You're going to have to do it on your own. Do you really think you can beat Spike Kane? Do you really think you can beat me, Mason? Take a moment, sit down, and think about it for a second. Don't think too hard because we don't want you to concuss yourself before the match, but just think a little bit. Do you really think you're on our level? My level? The Empire's level?
Do you really think you have what it takes to get the job done, Mason?
You think you have the capability to pinning or submitting any member of The Empire?
Do you think you have the skill necessary to be a champion in this company?
I ask you all of those questions even though I already know the answers.
We showed you your place in this company a few weeks ago. You were rambling on about veterans or something, taking valuable TV time that belongs to The Empire, so we showed you a tiny bit of the type of pain that we bring to the table. How did that feel, Mason? Good? Bad? Did it hurt oh, so nice?
Whatever the answer may be, it was just a small fragment of the kind of hell The Empire can rain down on you. Your walking into a war zone, Mason, and while you may think you know a little about war zones, you don't have any allies or weapons protecting your pathetic ass. It's just you, Mason. You against the world. The question is: will the weight of the world be too heavy on your shoulders?
The answer is: hell-fucking-yes.
-----
A knock at the door quickly wakes Killian up, nearly causing him to jump out of his chair. He glances at Sam, who's still lying in the same position on the hospital bed, before turning his gaze towards the door. The door slowly opens and stepping into the room is Killian's brother, Ethan Creed.
Imagine a massive planet crashing into Earth. The effect of such an event would be catastrophic. The world, perhaps the entire universe, it would be destroyed. Placing Killian and Ethan into the same room as each other, just as disastrous.
Ethan, holding a bouquet of pink Roses, stands a couple of feet inside the room. He looks surprised, a bit shocked, as he locks eyes with his brother. Killian, meanwhile, has slowly made his way to his feet and is staring back, with fire burning rage developing inside his body. Ethan, realizing this situation might explode at any moment, slowly sets the flowers on the ground next to him, and holds his hands up, as if telling Killian that he doesn't want any trouble.
Ethan Creed: Killian, listen, I'm not here to cause any trouble, okay? The hospital called me, said something about an old emergency contact sheet they had on Sam. They said she was in trouble. You're not the only one that cares about Sam, so I -- I don't know, I guess I thought I should come here and make sure she's okay, you know?
Ethan's words may not even be registering with Killian. Creed's eyes are showing only fire as he stares at his brother. His fists are clenched and his cheeks are red and shaking with anger and adrenaline as he slowly takes a step towards the end of the bed, apparently trying to inch closer towards Ethan.
Killian Creed: What did I tell you, Ethan? Do you remember what I told you? I hope you do because we were both present when I said it.
Ethan Creed: Yes, I remember, Killian. Listen, I'm not an idiot, okay? I remember what you said. But I'm not a kid anymore, either. I gave you your space, but you can't stop me from returning to Charleston when someone may need me.
Killian Creed: (whispering) I told you to never come back, I told you I didn't want to see you anymore...
Ethan Creed: (leaning towards Killian) I couldn't hear you, man. What did you say?
Killian, now only a couple of feet away from Ethan, lunges towards his brother and starts hammering away with right hands. Ethan tries his best to block the shots, but Killian is bringing them down with a lot of hatred and intent to destroy. Ethan manages to roll over and now he's on top of Killian, hammering down with rights and lefts of his own. Ethan hadn't closed the door when he entered the room earlier, so now both men find themselves in the middle of a busy hospital corridor, beating the shit out of each other.
Ethan Creed: (yelling) I didn't ask you to do what you did, Killian. I DIDN'T ASK YOU TO DO IT!
They roll over once again, now Killian is on top and he's hammering away. Various security guards, maintenance guys, nurses, etc. run towards them. They manage to pull Killian off, but he's fighting with everything he has to break away. The rest of them pull Ethan to his feet.
Nurse: (looking at Killian and Ethan) You both need to leave right now. Your behavior is unacceptable and you're lucky we don't seek criminal charges.
Killian snatches his arm away from the group holding him. He checks his lip for blood as he stares at his brother. Killian shakes his head in disgust before walking away, heading in the direction of the exit. Ethan frees himself from the people holding him as well as he watches his brother walk away.
Ethan Creed: (whispering) I didn't ask you to do it...
A security guard motions towards a different exit at the other side of the corridor. Ethan watches his brother until he disappears around a corner. Ethan sighs softly before walking towards the other exit. He opens the door and leaves the hospital, slowly closing it behind him...
-----
Davey Ortega. You're a man on a mission, aren't you? Apparently, you have sour balls over the fact that The Empire is back in action. I can't remember the reason for your anger. Didn't you run the stable at one time or another? I don't know, who cares, right? Point is, The Empire is here, The Empire is strong, and nothing you can do will be able to slow us down.
See, the thing is, I just don't respect you, Davey. I know what you're about, I know what you've done, but I just don't give a shit, you know? You're Davey Ortega. A member of the nCw Hall of Fame. A man on the ascension in IWF, hoping to one day be a member of this company's Hall of Fame. Problem is, Davey, that's never going to happen.
The reason that's never going to happen is because you're running into a battle this week, one that is going to leave you crippled. You're going to go into this match on your own feet, but you're going to leave it on a stretcher. The thing is, Davey, you're blinded by the fact that Spike Kane is in your head. You're so concerned with stopping Spike, so concerned with toppling The Empire, that you're not focusing on the important things.
You're blinded by your rage, by your desire to see the demise of Spike Kane. You forget that Gjenrei is in this match. You forget that I'm in this match. Sure, Spike Kane holds the Imperial championship, I could understand that his title would be everyone's ultimate goal. But that's not why you're focused on him, Davey. You want to be the reason that Spike Kane is no more. You want to be his undoing. And that, my friend, is where you're going to create your own downfall.
You need to clear your head. You need to focus on everything and everyone. You have tunnel vision on Spike Kane, and that's going to leave the door open for me to kick your teeth down your throat.
And once all is said and done, Davey. You'll have failed at everything. You won't have a title. Spike Kane will still be breathing. And most importantly, The Empire will live on.
Prepare for failure, Davey. That's all your future contains.
But you'll have company in your failures, Davey. Rob Diamond will be joining you. See, Rob, you're very similar to Davey in this case. You're blinded by your rage for Spike Kane, you want nothing more than to rip his head off his shoulders and knowing you, you'd probably want to shove his detached head up his own ass at that point.
But, much like Davey, this is going to cost you.
See, I know you think you were done wrong, Rob. I know you think you weren't treated fairly.
But you were treated very fairly, Rob. You didn't stand by Spike's side when he needed you the most. You turned your back on him. You spit in his face. You're the reason you're on the outside looking in. No one else is to blame for your misfortunes, Rob.
Now, you're trying to fight the un-winnable battle. You're trying to destroy The Empire. And the best ally you could find is Alex Jones. What-a-fucking-laugh-fest that is.
Listen, Rob, I know you're not going to be gunning for me in this match. That's the beauty of it. You may not be gunning for me, but I'll be gunning for you.
You can't see me coming if your back is facing me, Rob. I think it'll be good for you to remember that fact going into this match. Spike isn't your only concern. You're up against The Empire, you're up against the world. You've failed so far in your attempts to get the best of us, so this week isn't going to be any different.
And just when you think you may be turning the tides in your favor, you'll eat a boot from me. If you get back up, you'll eat a fist. And if you get back up again, I'll just cut off your windpipe with the Rear Naked Choke. I'll have an answer for every question, Rob. I'll have a counteraction for every action. You're not going to outsmart me. You're not going to outsmart The Empire. You will lose.
You'll all lose.
And once all is said and done, The Empire will remain. We will remain champions.
The Empire will continue dominating.
Be prepared for the worst, gentlemen.
Controversy also ensued when Lance Ryan announced his intention to join The Empire. I'm not sure how I feel about that one, either. But hey, it's not my decision to make, and if Spike felt like we could use him, I guess I'll just have to accept it. Welcome to The Empire, Lance. The food is hot and the women are free. Enjoy your time.
Lastly, controversy also reared its ugly head at the end of my match. Ryan Blade, perhaps taking one too many shots to the head by yours truly, forgot the script. And by forgetting the script, he lost his place in The Empire and his championship. And now, after months of battling in this company, I finally have some gold around my waist. But does that mean my hunger has been suppressed? Hardly.
Winning this championship is like having a midday snack. It'll hold me over until it's time for dinner, but it's not going to quench my desire for more.
My ultimate goal is to be the very best, to be on top of the proverbial mountain of professional wrestling. None of that has changed, everything still remains exactly as it has been. This title just serves a push in the right direction towards achieving my goal.
But, I can't rest easy, I can't relax, because my first title defense is mere days away at Survival of the Fittest. I think this is probably one of the hardest ways to defend a championship, but I'm not going to back away and cower in a corner. If there's one thing people need to know about Killian Creed, it's that I will never back away from a fight.
A five-on-five team match, pitting five champions against five challengers. Well, four of the ten total entrants are vaginas, so it's safe to eliminate those bitches from my mindset going into the contest. Ultimately, this match pits The Empire, Spike Kane, Gjenrei, and myself, against Davey Ortega, Rob Diamond, and Mason St. Croix. Our side is full of champions, while the other is full of scavenging challengers.
These are three men who not only hate The Empire, but would also like to add some IWF gold to their career record books. It's an interesting situation we find ourselves in.
But if last week's episode of Sacrifice shows the world anything, it's that The Empire define interesting, so this match isn't going to scare us away. It's just going to provide us with yet another platform for us to show the entire world just how dominating The Empire truly is.
-----
The daunting sounds of the various medical equipment creates a tense melody; one that fills the air with sadness and doubt. Lying in the hospital bed, hooked into all of the aforementioned machines, is a motionless Samantha Williams. Most of her body is hidden under the blankets, but the small portion that is revealed acts as the point of entry for various tubes and needles. It's not a pleasant sight, it's one that's very disheartening to anyone that sees it. Killian Creed is experiencing this first hand; he entered the room for the first time about five minutes ago, but he's been frozen in place halfway between her bed and the door.
Killian, clad in a pair of blue jeans and a black Alice in Chains t-shirt, looks at the love of his life with hurt in his eyes. A couple of tears are trying to escape from his eyes, brought to the surface by the horrific sight in front of him, but he quickly blinks and wipes them away, refusing to lose his cool because he feels like he needs to stay strong for Samantha. He takes a big deep breath, before gradually exhaling and taking a couple of steps towards the bed. He places a vase full of pink Roses, Sam's favorite, on the bedside table. He grabs one of the chairs in the room, dragging it closer to Sam, before sitting down at her bedside.
Killian Creed: I -- uh, you know, they say that -- I...
Creed's having a hard time finding his words, unable to say what's on the tip of his tongue because his mind isn't cooperating. He quickly wipes away a couple of new tears, one of which was halfway down his cheek. He takes another deep breath, trying to calm himself down, before slowly exhaling into what he wants to say.
Killian Creed: They say that you're doing good, Sam. I mean, I guess as good as can be expected in this situation, you know? They, uh, are trying to get everything back to normal. Your, uh, well -- your kidneys are working on their own again, but your lungs aren't cooperating. That's why they need all of these machines because your body isn't allowing you to breathe on your own.
He pauses for another moment, wiping away fresh tears and trying his best to fight away the urge to breakdown and sob. Killian isn't a man that cries often, but Sam holds his heart in her hands, even if she doesn't know it.
Killian Creed: They don't really know anything as far as a timetable goes, but I know everyone is working hard to get you back on your feet, Sam. I just -- God damnit, I'm sorry, Sam. I'm --
The battle is lost as his eyes are full of fresh tears, many of which are now gunning for an escape down his cheek. He leans forward, resting his head on the edge of the bed, and cries. He only allows himself to do this for a couple of seconds, remembering that he has to be strong for Sam, so he quickly grabs his shirt and uses it to clean his face the best he can.
Killian Creed: (whispering) I'm sorry, Sam. All of this, everything, it's my fault, you know? It's all because I lost my temper. You're here because of me. You're in this coma because of me. You're in this God damned hospital because of me! It's my fucking fault and I would do anything in the world to take it back. I'm sorry, Sam. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...
He trails off at the end, finding that it's harder and harder for him to talk while he tries to suppress the tears. He leans in closer to Sam, gently rubbing his fingers across her forehead as he looks at her for a moment, trying to gather within himself exactly what he wants to say next.
Killian Creed: I want you to know something, Sam. I don't know if you can hear anything I'm saying, but I have to tell you this. I should have told you this years ago, but I didn't because I'm a fucking idiot. It's that -- you know, I -- I love you, Sam. Okay? And whether you love me the way I love you or not, I want you to know that I love you more than anyone or anything in the entire world. I've always loved you, but I -- I don't know, I never said it.
Her left eye twitches, which causes Killian to jump a bit. He quickly glances at all of the machines, and even though he has no idea what they are for, he's hoping they can tell him something as far as if she's waking up or not. Everything is the same, though, as she's still motionless and the machines are still beeping in rhythm. The eye twitch could mean many of things or it could mean nothing, but she's still asleep. A dissatisfied sigh escapes from Killian's lips as he turns his attention back to Sam.
Killian Creed: I just -- I just wanted you to know that, Sam. I just -- yeah, I love you.
He slowly sits back in his chair, looking at Sam's face with teary eyes. He's still in a deathly battle with himself to contain his negative emotions, but his efforts are falling a bit short as his eyes become more engulfed in fresh tears. He pulls his shirt up to cover his face and, for the second time, he loses himself. He sits there, at Sam's bedside, and sobs. He sobs because he doesn't know what else to do, he sobs because he knows all of this, everything, is his fault...
-----
Mason St. Croix, first and foremost, let me thank you for serving our country. I'm sure you did some great things overseas like all American soldiers do, such as kill the children and rape their mothers. You probably started that, didn't you? You sick fuck. Unfortunately, you didn't eat a bullet over there like you should have; I guess it was because you were too busy eating all that Middle Eastern vagina, eh? They probably taste the same, anyway.
But alas, bullet or no bullet, here you are. A soldier, now a wrestler, who has been on one hell of a ride since arriving here a couple of months ago. It's funny how things turn out, right? I mean, you've yet to lose a match in this company. You fought your way into the Extinction Event. You've earned everything you've gotten along the way, Mason. But I have some news for you. You might think it's bad news, but I think it's good news, and guess what? My opinion is the only one that fucking matters, Mason.
This week, at Survival of the Fittest, Mason St. Croix's momentum train jumps the tracks. You're running into a buzz-saw, and while you may be too stupid to realize it, the danger is real and your career, as young as it may be in the wrestling ring, was all but over when you earned your spot in this match a couple of weeks ago.
Unlike last week, Davey Ortega isn't going to be watching out for you, he won't be there to carry your pathetic ass to victory in this match. You're going to have to do it on your own. Do you really think you can beat Spike Kane? Do you really think you can beat me, Mason? Take a moment, sit down, and think about it for a second. Don't think too hard because we don't want you to concuss yourself before the match, but just think a little bit. Do you really think you're on our level? My level? The Empire's level?
Do you really think you have what it takes to get the job done, Mason?
You think you have the capability to pinning or submitting any member of The Empire?
Do you think you have the skill necessary to be a champion in this company?
I ask you all of those questions even though I already know the answers.
We showed you your place in this company a few weeks ago. You were rambling on about veterans or something, taking valuable TV time that belongs to The Empire, so we showed you a tiny bit of the type of pain that we bring to the table. How did that feel, Mason? Good? Bad? Did it hurt oh, so nice?
Whatever the answer may be, it was just a small fragment of the kind of hell The Empire can rain down on you. Your walking into a war zone, Mason, and while you may think you know a little about war zones, you don't have any allies or weapons protecting your pathetic ass. It's just you, Mason. You against the world. The question is: will the weight of the world be too heavy on your shoulders?
The answer is: hell-fucking-yes.
-----
A knock at the door quickly wakes Killian up, nearly causing him to jump out of his chair. He glances at Sam, who's still lying in the same position on the hospital bed, before turning his gaze towards the door. The door slowly opens and stepping into the room is Killian's brother, Ethan Creed.
Imagine a massive planet crashing into Earth. The effect of such an event would be catastrophic. The world, perhaps the entire universe, it would be destroyed. Placing Killian and Ethan into the same room as each other, just as disastrous.
Ethan, holding a bouquet of pink Roses, stands a couple of feet inside the room. He looks surprised, a bit shocked, as he locks eyes with his brother. Killian, meanwhile, has slowly made his way to his feet and is staring back, with fire burning rage developing inside his body. Ethan, realizing this situation might explode at any moment, slowly sets the flowers on the ground next to him, and holds his hands up, as if telling Killian that he doesn't want any trouble.
Ethan Creed: Killian, listen, I'm not here to cause any trouble, okay? The hospital called me, said something about an old emergency contact sheet they had on Sam. They said she was in trouble. You're not the only one that cares about Sam, so I -- I don't know, I guess I thought I should come here and make sure she's okay, you know?
Ethan's words may not even be registering with Killian. Creed's eyes are showing only fire as he stares at his brother. His fists are clenched and his cheeks are red and shaking with anger and adrenaline as he slowly takes a step towards the end of the bed, apparently trying to inch closer towards Ethan.
Killian Creed: What did I tell you, Ethan? Do you remember what I told you? I hope you do because we were both present when I said it.
Ethan Creed: Yes, I remember, Killian. Listen, I'm not an idiot, okay? I remember what you said. But I'm not a kid anymore, either. I gave you your space, but you can't stop me from returning to Charleston when someone may need me.
Killian Creed: (whispering) I told you to never come back, I told you I didn't want to see you anymore...
Ethan Creed: (leaning towards Killian) I couldn't hear you, man. What did you say?
Killian, now only a couple of feet away from Ethan, lunges towards his brother and starts hammering away with right hands. Ethan tries his best to block the shots, but Killian is bringing them down with a lot of hatred and intent to destroy. Ethan manages to roll over and now he's on top of Killian, hammering down with rights and lefts of his own. Ethan hadn't closed the door when he entered the room earlier, so now both men find themselves in the middle of a busy hospital corridor, beating the shit out of each other.
Ethan Creed: (yelling) I didn't ask you to do what you did, Killian. I DIDN'T ASK YOU TO DO IT!
They roll over once again, now Killian is on top and he's hammering away. Various security guards, maintenance guys, nurses, etc. run towards them. They manage to pull Killian off, but he's fighting with everything he has to break away. The rest of them pull Ethan to his feet.
Nurse: (looking at Killian and Ethan) You both need to leave right now. Your behavior is unacceptable and you're lucky we don't seek criminal charges.
Killian snatches his arm away from the group holding him. He checks his lip for blood as he stares at his brother. Killian shakes his head in disgust before walking away, heading in the direction of the exit. Ethan frees himself from the people holding him as well as he watches his brother walk away.
Ethan Creed: (whispering) I didn't ask you to do it...
A security guard motions towards a different exit at the other side of the corridor. Ethan watches his brother until he disappears around a corner. Ethan sighs softly before walking towards the other exit. He opens the door and leaves the hospital, slowly closing it behind him...
-----
Davey Ortega. You're a man on a mission, aren't you? Apparently, you have sour balls over the fact that The Empire is back in action. I can't remember the reason for your anger. Didn't you run the stable at one time or another? I don't know, who cares, right? Point is, The Empire is here, The Empire is strong, and nothing you can do will be able to slow us down.
See, the thing is, I just don't respect you, Davey. I know what you're about, I know what you've done, but I just don't give a shit, you know? You're Davey Ortega. A member of the nCw Hall of Fame. A man on the ascension in IWF, hoping to one day be a member of this company's Hall of Fame. Problem is, Davey, that's never going to happen.
The reason that's never going to happen is because you're running into a battle this week, one that is going to leave you crippled. You're going to go into this match on your own feet, but you're going to leave it on a stretcher. The thing is, Davey, you're blinded by the fact that Spike Kane is in your head. You're so concerned with stopping Spike, so concerned with toppling The Empire, that you're not focusing on the important things.
You're blinded by your rage, by your desire to see the demise of Spike Kane. You forget that Gjenrei is in this match. You forget that I'm in this match. Sure, Spike Kane holds the Imperial championship, I could understand that his title would be everyone's ultimate goal. But that's not why you're focused on him, Davey. You want to be the reason that Spike Kane is no more. You want to be his undoing. And that, my friend, is where you're going to create your own downfall.
You need to clear your head. You need to focus on everything and everyone. You have tunnel vision on Spike Kane, and that's going to leave the door open for me to kick your teeth down your throat.
And once all is said and done, Davey. You'll have failed at everything. You won't have a title. Spike Kane will still be breathing. And most importantly, The Empire will live on.
Prepare for failure, Davey. That's all your future contains.
But you'll have company in your failures, Davey. Rob Diamond will be joining you. See, Rob, you're very similar to Davey in this case. You're blinded by your rage for Spike Kane, you want nothing more than to rip his head off his shoulders and knowing you, you'd probably want to shove his detached head up his own ass at that point.
But, much like Davey, this is going to cost you.
See, I know you think you were done wrong, Rob. I know you think you weren't treated fairly.
But you were treated very fairly, Rob. You didn't stand by Spike's side when he needed you the most. You turned your back on him. You spit in his face. You're the reason you're on the outside looking in. No one else is to blame for your misfortunes, Rob.
Now, you're trying to fight the un-winnable battle. You're trying to destroy The Empire. And the best ally you could find is Alex Jones. What-a-fucking-laugh-fest that is.
Listen, Rob, I know you're not going to be gunning for me in this match. That's the beauty of it. You may not be gunning for me, but I'll be gunning for you.
You can't see me coming if your back is facing me, Rob. I think it'll be good for you to remember that fact going into this match. Spike isn't your only concern. You're up against The Empire, you're up against the world. You've failed so far in your attempts to get the best of us, so this week isn't going to be any different.
And just when you think you may be turning the tides in your favor, you'll eat a boot from me. If you get back up, you'll eat a fist. And if you get back up again, I'll just cut off your windpipe with the Rear Naked Choke. I'll have an answer for every question, Rob. I'll have a counteraction for every action. You're not going to outsmart me. You're not going to outsmart The Empire. You will lose.
You'll all lose.
And once all is said and done, The Empire will remain. We will remain champions.
The Empire will continue dominating.
Be prepared for the worst, gentlemen.
Well howdy there pardner.