Post by Ghost Spike on Mar 27, 2016 16:54:24 GMT
You ever have one of those moments?
When you realise that something is about to happen, like it was always meant to happen? Almost as if it was….destiny? I hate to use that term, because it’s burned me so bad in the past, and it’s also one of the most overused excuses in this business. But this? This is 2016, the fucking YEAR of the Blood God. It’s my year, don’t you get that? Don’t you understand? It’s twenty years, twenty fucking years since I first laced up my boots. Don’t you find it funny that ten years ago I won one of these? It’s almost too perfect.
Almost….destiny.
Thing is, I’m not the type to sit back and wait for it to happen. I’m the type to go out there and fucking make it happen. Carve a path if I have to, lay waste the members of this roster, because they are in my way. Every. Single. One. I don’t care if it is Rob Diamond, I don’t care if it is Warren, I don’t care if it’s Jake, Laszlo, Alex….I’ll break them all to get to my prize. You see, once I’ve made my mind up on something, it tends to happen….one way, or another, eventually.
I get what I want.
Don’t believe me? Take a look at my trophy cabinet. Take a look at the violence left at my hands, how I crushed anyone who opposed me in nCw, and did the same in IWF. I fought my way to the title, never, ever, has it been handed to me, I have always earned my place, earned my spot…..despite was some lesser minds would have you believe. I beat five other men to earn my shot at Lex….
And Lex ran like a bitch.
It’s a recurring theme in my career, people crumble when they face me. It happened to Brad, it happened to Ortega, it happened to Lance, it happened to Lex….people just don’t have the guts, balls, or courage to face me...outright, one on one….they can’t get it done. I’ve had two titles shots since I walked into IWF, admittedly I was left out of the first tournament, due to former success making me too...I dunno, obvious? Too much of a threat? It seems like the more success I have early in a federation, the more damage it does for my chances later in that federations life…
But not this time.
I am going to win the Roulette.
And I am going to become IWF Imperial Champion.
Again.
~~~
When you realise that something is about to happen, like it was always meant to happen? Almost as if it was….destiny? I hate to use that term, because it’s burned me so bad in the past, and it’s also one of the most overused excuses in this business. But this? This is 2016, the fucking YEAR of the Blood God. It’s my year, don’t you get that? Don’t you understand? It’s twenty years, twenty fucking years since I first laced up my boots. Don’t you find it funny that ten years ago I won one of these? It’s almost too perfect.
Almost….destiny.
Thing is, I’m not the type to sit back and wait for it to happen. I’m the type to go out there and fucking make it happen. Carve a path if I have to, lay waste the members of this roster, because they are in my way. Every. Single. One. I don’t care if it is Rob Diamond, I don’t care if it is Warren, I don’t care if it’s Jake, Laszlo, Alex….I’ll break them all to get to my prize. You see, once I’ve made my mind up on something, it tends to happen….one way, or another, eventually.
I get what I want.
Don’t believe me? Take a look at my trophy cabinet. Take a look at the violence left at my hands, how I crushed anyone who opposed me in nCw, and did the same in IWF. I fought my way to the title, never, ever, has it been handed to me, I have always earned my place, earned my spot…..despite was some lesser minds would have you believe. I beat five other men to earn my shot at Lex….
And Lex ran like a bitch.
It’s a recurring theme in my career, people crumble when they face me. It happened to Brad, it happened to Ortega, it happened to Lance, it happened to Lex….people just don’t have the guts, balls, or courage to face me...outright, one on one….they can’t get it done. I’ve had two titles shots since I walked into IWF, admittedly I was left out of the first tournament, due to former success making me too...I dunno, obvious? Too much of a threat? It seems like the more success I have early in a federation, the more damage it does for my chances later in that federations life…
But not this time.
I am going to win the Roulette.
And I am going to become IWF Imperial Champion.
Again.
~~~
Do you know what it feels like to sleep rough? To pray to whoever the fuck is listening that nobody does anything to you while you are laying there, vulnerable and open? I used to think to myself, why not get caught stealing? At least you’d have a bed for the night. Another thought I had was committing myself to an insane asylum. Funny how that would come back to bite me in the ass. Thing is, when someone gives you food? Offers you a warm place to sleep? You’ll pretty much do anything for them.
SMACK!!!
The uppercut caught me off guard. This wild looking scrawny blonde kid, throwing wild punches. He was hiding the fact that he knew how to throw a real punch. Clever, but I could take it, I’d learned that the hard way, I could take a beating.
Spike: That all you got!?
Smack talk, not so smart, but hey...I had to throw him off his guard somehow. His punch landed clean, and he knew it. He wanted to press his advantage, but that was exactly what I wanted too. As much as I hated his guts, and wanted to see him rot in a grave, my dad taught me how to fight, and he taught me ways others just didn’t even know about yet. It’d be years before mixed martial arts became popular. He lunged for me, a wild punch, and I span away from it, grabbing his arm as I did, and taking him to the ground.
Bernie: Yeah! Fuck him up!
The approval of my “club” was all good and dandy, but this fight wasn’t over. I wrenched his arm back and leaned into his back, digging my elbow in. The rain pissed down all around us, and his face was being mushed into the mud. He couldn’t give up, he’d be kicked to the curb if he was. I’d seen it happen in just my few days here. They only want real fighters here, you can’t fight, you’re out. I pulled hard, hoping he would give up, but knowing that I wouldn’t let go until he does.
Bernie: He ain’t gonna tap sweetheart. Break his fucking arm!
Who was I to argue with the man keeping me clothed, fed, and warm?
CRACK!
Kid: AARRRGHGHGH!!!
His scream was muffled in the mud, but it rang through my head. I let go of the hold instantly, the bikers were cheering, but some came to drag the kid away. At the very least I hoped they’d take him to a hospital. I felt sick, but I didn’t feel guilty. I was doing what I needed to so that I could survive. He would have done the same to me if he had the chance.
Bernie: Fucking great kid, you’re gonna make me a sweet load of money, you know that?
He’d come over during the whole fallout of the fight. People were cheering, booing, arguing over who owed who money, but not Bernie. He’d come straight over to me and helped me to my feet, patting me on the back.
Bernie: Now we just gotta get you ridin’ a bike, and you’re part of the club kiddo.
I remember feeling proud, as if my own father was telling me I’d done good. I guess that is how far I was gone already. My first fight, and I thought I was king shit, but I couldn’t have been any further from the truth. This was the first day in a very long few days, and I never did see that poor son of a bitch ever again.
~~~
I’ve been the underdog before. I’ve been laughed at, told how I’d never make it to the big time, and it's funny….because those people died out years ago, in fact, probably more than ten years ago. Yet here I stand, still doing it, still kicking ass, still putting on match of the year candidates. Still showing the world that nobody does “Xtreme” like I do. Nobody can take it to that next level like me, admittedly, there are….pretenders to the throne, proteges, whatever you want to call them. Chief among them is Rob Diamond.
Rob…
I’ve stayed out of your way during your whole crusade, despite picking Veronas side myself. I didn’t want to be the roadblock in your path like I was before. I took things to a level nobody ever expected. In my heart, I knew you were right to try and stop what I did to Xavier Cross. I wasn’t in my right state of mind, and I saw that as betrayal, so I acted out as if you had. We fought the most violent and brutal was this company has ever seen, and probably ever will see…..but when this came around again? I decided I wasn’t going to be involved in making your life a living hell again…
Out of respect.
Out of my own fucked up sense of family.
I didn’t want to rehash what we’d already been through, I think we’re above that now. The thing is though Rob, you have a pretty god damn big target on your back. You might not like him, and hell, it doesn’t matter what any of us think, he’s a smart son of a bitch. He sees you as a threat, so he offers everyone an easy way to the title….by taking you out, and I can’t lie Rob. I’m more than happy to take that easy way out. I have no ill feelings towards you, but I won’t hesitate to throw your ass out of the ring and claim that title shot for myself…..if not me, then who? Eh?
I won’t try to break you like the others, I just want my shot.
I know it’s easier said than done though, and I’m more than prepared to go for the long haul and really take out every fucker on this roster to get my shot. Do I know my number? Shit no. I don’t care, I could be number one, I could be number twenty nine….it doesn’t matter, because the goal is the same. Outlast everyone, it’s something I’ve become quite adept at doing, in case you haven’t been paying attention? I’ve lasted longer than any other of the so-called “greats” of this business. Not a single one of them shares our ring wiht us today, except for me….because I evolve, I adapt, and that is why IWF - especially under our new regime, is perfect for me. It allows me to be the predator that I am, it allows me the chance to just fuck hsit up, and enjoy myself. That’s something that most people don’t get, you have to enjoy yourself, or it becomes a slog….and when I’m caving some dudes head in and painting the ring with his blood?
You damn right I enjoy myself.
So, the mantra remains the same. I am Spike Kane, the God of Xtreme, the best there is at what I do, and what I do ain’t nice. I’m going to walk into that ring, swing for the motherfucking fences, and make sure that I walk away from High Stakes as the number one contender, in one way, shape, or form…..I just won’t accept anything less. My mind is made up, it’s going to happen, and I feel sorry for anyone who is going to get in my way. I have nothing to hold me back, I have nothing to care for….all I have is my career, and you’ll be damned if it’s going to end on a piss poor forget me parade….not at all.
The king is dead.
Long live the king.
ALL
BLOODY
HAIL!
I’ve been the underdog before. I’ve been laughed at, told how I’d never make it to the big time, and it's funny….because those people died out years ago, in fact, probably more than ten years ago. Yet here I stand, still doing it, still kicking ass, still putting on match of the year candidates. Still showing the world that nobody does “Xtreme” like I do. Nobody can take it to that next level like me, admittedly, there are….pretenders to the throne, proteges, whatever you want to call them. Chief among them is Rob Diamond.
Rob…
I’ve stayed out of your way during your whole crusade, despite picking Veronas side myself. I didn’t want to be the roadblock in your path like I was before. I took things to a level nobody ever expected. In my heart, I knew you were right to try and stop what I did to Xavier Cross. I wasn’t in my right state of mind, and I saw that as betrayal, so I acted out as if you had. We fought the most violent and brutal was this company has ever seen, and probably ever will see…..but when this came around again? I decided I wasn’t going to be involved in making your life a living hell again…
Out of respect.
Out of my own fucked up sense of family.
I didn’t want to rehash what we’d already been through, I think we’re above that now. The thing is though Rob, you have a pretty god damn big target on your back. You might not like him, and hell, it doesn’t matter what any of us think, he’s a smart son of a bitch. He sees you as a threat, so he offers everyone an easy way to the title….by taking you out, and I can’t lie Rob. I’m more than happy to take that easy way out. I have no ill feelings towards you, but I won’t hesitate to throw your ass out of the ring and claim that title shot for myself…..if not me, then who? Eh?
I won’t try to break you like the others, I just want my shot.
I know it’s easier said than done though, and I’m more than prepared to go for the long haul and really take out every fucker on this roster to get my shot. Do I know my number? Shit no. I don’t care, I could be number one, I could be number twenty nine….it doesn’t matter, because the goal is the same. Outlast everyone, it’s something I’ve become quite adept at doing, in case you haven’t been paying attention? I’ve lasted longer than any other of the so-called “greats” of this business. Not a single one of them shares our ring wiht us today, except for me….because I evolve, I adapt, and that is why IWF - especially under our new regime, is perfect for me. It allows me to be the predator that I am, it allows me the chance to just fuck hsit up, and enjoy myself. That’s something that most people don’t get, you have to enjoy yourself, or it becomes a slog….and when I’m caving some dudes head in and painting the ring with his blood?
You damn right I enjoy myself.
So, the mantra remains the same. I am Spike Kane, the God of Xtreme, the best there is at what I do, and what I do ain’t nice. I’m going to walk into that ring, swing for the motherfucking fences, and make sure that I walk away from High Stakes as the number one contender, in one way, shape, or form…..I just won’t accept anything less. My mind is made up, it’s going to happen, and I feel sorry for anyone who is going to get in my way. I have nothing to hold me back, I have nothing to care for….all I have is my career, and you’ll be damned if it’s going to end on a piss poor forget me parade….not at all.
The king is dead.
Long live the king.
ALL
BLOODY
HAIL!
Well howdy there pardner.