Post by Angel Blake on Sept 23, 2014 20:40:26 GMT
His black boot hit the door the wood splintered as it hit the floor. The impact shook him to the core but he wasn’t stopping until he sees the whore.
Cold steel felt powerful in his hand as he peered in the dark and did the scan. A smile crept across his face knowing he held death incarnate no one would leave this place.
Where’d the gun come from?
He shrugged the thought away and brushed the hair from his face.
A panicked hand dialed a phone but before they could press send he’d put the gun to their dome.
Her black hair still glistened in the night, his fingers pressed and squeezed as the loose strands danced in the light.
”Angel, what are you doing?”
Her voice was light and full of fear, she was terrified and didn’t know how he’d gotten here.
He felt a laugh bubble up in his chest as he pressed the gun a little harder against her head.
”Have you lost your mind?”
She screamed, he laughed, didn’t she know that this was funny? Didn’t she know that bullet holes look lovely, honey?
”Don’t you know?”
He whispered in the dark, her chest heaved, fear gripped her heart.
”What?”
”That I love you more than life itself?”
He felt bitter, angry, he’d rather be in hell.
”Angel?”
”Shelly.”
She wanted to plead for her life but I think she knew it was going to end tonight.
”You don’t have to do this.”
”Actually I do.”
Even if he didn’t really want to.
”I can’t be without you. I can’t breathe without you.”
The barrel pressed deep but she didn’t make a squeek, too terrified he’d squeeze, too terrified to breathe.
”You left me to die.”
”I don’t deserve to die.”
A tear escaped her eye.
”Please don’t cry.”
He pulled her close, his hands tried to remove her clothes but she backed away and scratched his face.
His hand moved quick and sent her backward with one hit. She couldn’t do shit except scream at the gun tip.
”I HATE YOU!”
I love you.”
He closed his eyes and he pulled the trigger, he put the gun to his head, GOD died a sinner and he whispered…
Lord have mercy…
Cold steel felt powerful in his hand as he peered in the dark and did the scan. A smile crept across his face knowing he held death incarnate no one would leave this place.
Where’d the gun come from?
He shrugged the thought away and brushed the hair from his face.
A panicked hand dialed a phone but before they could press send he’d put the gun to their dome.
Her black hair still glistened in the night, his fingers pressed and squeezed as the loose strands danced in the light.
”Angel, what are you doing?”
Her voice was light and full of fear, she was terrified and didn’t know how he’d gotten here.
He felt a laugh bubble up in his chest as he pressed the gun a little harder against her head.
”Have you lost your mind?”
She screamed, he laughed, didn’t she know that this was funny? Didn’t she know that bullet holes look lovely, honey?
”Don’t you know?”
He whispered in the dark, her chest heaved, fear gripped her heart.
”What?”
”That I love you more than life itself?”
He felt bitter, angry, he’d rather be in hell.
”Angel?”
”Shelly.”
She wanted to plead for her life but I think she knew it was going to end tonight.
”You don’t have to do this.”
”Actually I do.”
Even if he didn’t really want to.
”I can’t be without you. I can’t breathe without you.”
The barrel pressed deep but she didn’t make a squeek, too terrified he’d squeeze, too terrified to breathe.
”You left me to die.”
”I don’t deserve to die.”
A tear escaped her eye.
”Please don’t cry.”
He pulled her close, his hands tried to remove her clothes but she backed away and scratched his face.
His hand moved quick and sent her backward with one hit. She couldn’t do shit except scream at the gun tip.
”I HATE YOU!”
I love you.”
He closed his eyes and he pulled the trigger, he put the gun to his head, GOD died a sinner and he whispered…
Lord have mercy…
Let there be light.
”A broken record.”
And so there was and it was blinding.
”That is what you are Mr. Laszlo, not a worthy challenger or anadmirable adversary, you are, very simply put…”
“A broken record.”
You shield your eyes but it does no good, the light seems to penetrate your very flesh.
”Week after week after week you’ve stood in front your little handi-cam and spouted off the same old tired rhetoric.”
“Don’t you get tired of lying?”
“You weren’t good enough to beat me a month ago, regardless of ill-conceived slights, had you the fortitude and wherewithal to take MY championship it would be you defending it and now me.”
You squint to no avail.
”Life is not fair, those with power will use it and I, Mr. Laszlo, have ALL the power. I am the IWF World Champion, I am the Head of Booking and I. AM. GOD!”
“A mortal man such as yourself never truly stood a chance.”
“So silence your cries of foul play, Michael, no man alive or dead could give me what you consider a fair fight. I defeated you in the end, I alone walked out with MY World Championship, the only thing not fair about any of this is the war you’ve waged on my ears.”
The light burns, you close your eyes.
”Legitimate?”
It hurts, I laugh.
”Absolutely nothing about you is legitimate, you’re an empty shell, a white sheet covering a blank canvas, you’re a man with no real personality or desire of your own, it’s why you fail.”
“You are what they tell you to be.”
“There is no real Michael Laszlo, no real burning passion or drive to compete; you’re a boy pretending to be a man, you play hero or villain depending on what you feel is the cool thing to do.”
“You don’t really hate me.”
“How could you?”
“I am everything you have ever wanted to be, the embodiment of every dream you have ever had, what is there to hate? My methods? My ability? The fact that no one has even come close to stopping me? In the end, Michael, is it me you hate or yourself for not being able to compete?”
The laughter is almost as painful as the light, you feel yourself crumbling.
”Defeating me is simple, Michael, all you have to do is let go. Let go of this empty image of yourself, this pointless charade you put on for the fans, let go of all the rhetorical nonsense and actually stand for something.”
“BE SOMEBODY.”
The light seems to weigh down on you.
”But you can’t, can you, you sniveling little worm?”
“You can’t stand up and be someone because it’s too hard, it’s too much work, it’s so much easier to coast through your life jumping from image to the next without ever having to stick. After all, if you never stand up and fight then you can never fall down and fail, right?”
“WRONG!”
“Because all you do is fail, am I right Michael?”
“You’ve failed at every single major moment in your life, every one, and now you stand before me throwing around words like legitimate, pointless catch phrase like it’s your time…”
“IT WILL NEVER BE YOUR TIME!”
“I am the single most dominant professional wrestle to ever set foot inside a ring, I AM GOD! Michael, GOD! And what are you aside from another failure, another whimpering simpleton without a clue?”
“What are you?”
Your knees begin to buckle.
”It’s simple, you will have to kill me to take MY championship from me but how is that even possible when you can’t even beat me? With the world at your back, every hope and prayer of every small minded fool in the crowd pushing you forward you STILL FAILED!”
“You fell before me with excuses at the ready.”
“I cheated?”
“I abused my power?”
“I did what had to be done and if you have a problem with that then stop running your moronic little mouth and do something. DO SOMETHING MICHAEL. Or shut up because your LORD is sick to death of hearing you speak.”
The light is too much, the pressure to high, you fall.
”Do you think it’s easy to wear MY championship?”
“Do you honestly believe that once you reach the top you stay there?”
“Name me a single truly good man to hold the IWF World Championship or the title that came before it. I defy you to show me the man with a pure heart and good intentions that rose to the top of our industry and dominated.”
“Men like you claim to be don’t last.”
“A GOD such as myself writes history.”
“I went easy on you last month Michael because I wanted to believe you had what it took to beat me. I wanted you to achieve your dreams, I wanted you to throw me from the top of my mountain and take my place.”
“I wanted you to win.”
“Now I am done with you. The games are over and I see you for what you really are. Another miserable little mortal with nothing but your own selfish desires at heart. It isn’t for the people you wish to beat me but your own legacy. It isn’t my supposed blatant abuse of power that appalls you, it’s that you aren’t capable of the same.”
“I am going to destroy you.”
The weight gets heavier.
”I am going to take from you your last breath and as your eyes slowly drift into the back of your skull I will whisper that I warned you. I will retain MY championship inside MY ring and continue to dominate MY promotion because you are supposed to represent the best of us and I couldn’t find that funnier.”
“The heir to the throne is a joke.”
“You are a joke.”
“Look at me Michael and tell me with all honesty that you think you could beat me. Look me right in my black eyes and tell me that it’s actually a possibility. Tell me with conviction that that is the only outcome.”
“YOU CAN’T!”
“You can’t do it because even on your best day you know you are nothing compared to me. A glimmer of doubt will always live inside your mind when look across the ring and see me and that glimmer of doubt will build and fester like a scab you can’t stop itching until you are brought to your knees before me, blood bubbling and flowing from every wound I have opened and only then will I LAY WASTE TO YOU!”
The breath leaves your lungs and then darkness.
”Only then will you find save haven from my wrath.”
Cold, unforgiving, darkness.
”When you look me in the eyes on Sunday you will see nothing but death, there will be no righteous victory, no fall from grace, there will only be death.”
“Death of your dreams.”
“Death of your career.”
“DEATH.”
“And as the last bits of dirt find their final resting place over your broken blood corpse I will take your sweet Alexis by the hand and teach her the only prayer she will ever need to know.”
Lord have mercy...
Air filled his lungs as he gasped for breathe, sucking wind he grabbed his chest and sat up in bed. What the hell just happened? Repeated in his head.
Chills ran down his spine as he replayed the dream inside his mind.
It seemed so real, the look, the feel, the smell, the taste, the blood splattered on his face.
He looked to his side, Ana slept, his fingers crept, his hand caressed.
”Ana…”
Like a fluttering butterfly she opened her eyes, she looked confused, was that a tear in his eye?
”Angel, are you ok?”
He didn’t respond, couldn’t form the words, pulled her close, his stomach turned.
His skin crawled like the worms, in his mind the flames still burned.
”I am now.”
His hand cradled her cheek, he hated looking weak, weakness is a sin and he’d never let it win.
He straightened his spine, he couldn’t unwind, the dream played again, he just wanted it to end.
”Relax.”
Her lips were moist, soft and sweet, ruby red, plump and clean.
Suddenly he couldn’t imagine deceit, he’d hold her forever underneath these sheets.
”Just breath.”
In all their time she’d never seen GOD so literally brought to his knees.
”Just breath baby.”
She couldn’t believe her eyes, a tear was cried, a fire inside, he hated himself and the lies he lied but as the moment passed that person died, left in his place a GOD will rise.
His eyes went black, his blood ran cold, where there was a man now was only stone, he seemed so old, Ana held him close, she searched his but could see no soul.
And he whispered…
Lord have mercy...
Well howdy there pardner.