Post by Warren Kane on May 28, 2017 23:36:42 GMT
{Warren sits in his hotel room, his hair a matted mess, his face covered in stubble, sweat covering his body. He is still wearing his ring gear from his main event match at Monday Night Sacrifice. He looks up at the camera that is recording, with a sombre look on his face, and anger in his eyes.}
“For every action, there is an equal or opposite reaction. For years, your opposite was Uncle Brad, for years when you stepped out of line HE was there to stop you, HE was there to put you back in line….last time you did it? It was Rob who had to do it, it was Rob who tried to be the one to step up to you and slap a dose of reality into your face old man…..but you don’t quite understand what you’ve done, do you? By attacking Nighthawk? By going to the Wrestle Factory….beating down a man, his students...AND HIS WIFE!?”
{Warren struggles to control himself as his emotions get the better of him while recounting Spike’s attack during Sacrifice this week.}
“You went too far old man. “
“This was supposed to be between you and me, this was supposed to be a family affair, something that we would deal with in the way you taught me, the way you always said we’d deal with things. In the middle of the ring, like we should do. Like you and Brad did, like you and Christian did….but you just couldn’t let it go could you? You couldn’t bear the fact that someone else had influence over your son. You couldn’t handle the fact that someone else was teaching your flesh and blood how to wrestle, christ, I wouldn’t be surprised if I went back home to find Milo Holland in a wheelchair….”
{The thought stops Warren in his tracks, as a lump swells up in his throat.}
“It’s almost as if, you don’t want me, but nobody else can have me…..huh….if we are god’s unwanted children, then so be it…..”
{Warren looks up at the camera, his rage seeming to calm down.}
“I’ve inherited so much from you Old Man, your temper, you anger, your hatred….and it controls me so much, for so long….I learned that it’s the only thing we have in common, and I learned that I don’t want to be like you. I don’t want anything to do with you. Once this is done? I’m done with you, for good….you see, you’ve become so attached to your championship? Ever since Xander….sweet, dear, innocent Xander was taken from us...US! Not you, US you selfish prick…..you latched onto that gold, like it possessed you, and just like Andrew told you, like he said, like he tried...to break that spell….I’m going to take it from you. Not because I want it, I don’t. My career, my legacy - will never be measured in my championship reigns, but simply in the memories I make in that ring, in the legacy I’ll create is by being one of the best in that ring…...not by being a monster, and not by being the son of one either. All you’ve done is destroy everything you touch, you infect everyone, you corrupt everyone, and every thing…..even me….and when I stood there, watching that monitor as you laid waste to the Wrestle Factory? I was left with only one thought…”
{Warren shakes his head a little, as the guilt wells up inside of him, his eyes begin to water ever so slightly.}
“I am Jack’s complete lack of surprise….”
(The feed cuts)
---
We open up on the IWF Performance Center it’s a pretty quiet day as most people are gearing up for Night of the Immortals and are busy getting ready. A lot of the roster and those who may be close to being called up are doing fan related activities such as signings, meet and greets, or setting up the arena itself. Warren Kane walks into the center where the small batch of people training immediately stop. Warren doesn’t pay them too much attention. His thoughts are his own right now, still blaming himself for his fathers attack on Nighthawk. As they group spot Warren they begin to talk amongst themselves, when Warren hears one of them distinctively mention his fathers name followed by the words “wrestle factory” before they all grab their gear and immediately leave the room.
“Can you blame them?”
The voice cut through the air and caught Warren off guard, at first he thought it came from one of the people who had stopped training, but it had not. They were leaving, and shooting him awkward glances. He looked around the room panicked.
“They blame you as much as you blame yourself”
Warren spun around, looking for where the voice could be coming from, dropping his back to the floor, but the Performance Center was now empty. His face show nothing short of sheer panic. He ran his hands through his short hair, and dragged them down his face. Without waiting he storms through the area and into the bathrooms, heading towards a sink and turning on the tap, splashing his face with cold water. He takes a moment to collect his thoughts, leaning over the sink, before he looks up, and see’s his reflection - but not his reflection. A twisted, different, Warren looks back at him. Warren stumbles backwards, slamming into the door of a stall, but the reflection doesn’t move, it just lowers it’s gaze and stares at him.
“The shock of seeing your true reflection for the first time can be quite overwhelming, I’m sure….”
The mouth doesn’t move, that’s what Warren notices. The reflections just stares at him, and he hears the voice in his head, it’s like his own….but not. Like it’s dripping with venom. He pulls himself up, slowly, and looks into the mirror, a morbid curiosity over taking him.
Warren: ….what the hell are you?
“I am you. Your true self. SHE freed us. SHE broke the chains, and allowed us into this world, to right the many, many wrongs that have been done to us…..and we start with the Old Man.”
It was in this moment that a realization hit Warren, that burning desire he’d had in his chest since coming back - that desire to go after Spike, that...need, to go after Spike - it was all starting to become clear, and as the pieces began to fit together in his mind, the reflection smiled at him, it’s jagged teeth showing.
“I can help you. Together, we can stop him. Together, we can end his path of destruction…..instead of fighting me, all you need to do….is let me in, and we can end the God of Steel…”
Overcome with so many emotions, but still distraught with the image of Nighthawk being thrown down the flight of stairs, and Sin being thrown across the room….Warren hesitates, before moving forwards towards the reflection. He raises a hand towards the mirror.
Warren: Do it. …...end him.
He raises his hand to the mirror, and the reflection raises his too, a sinister smile spreading across his face, before the reflection disappears, almost into Warrens hand, before Warren staggers back from the mirror, cluthing at his stomach. He shouts out in agony as he drops to a knee. He looks up as his eyes turn a deep dark yellow, and he grunts loudly his free arm extends and his fingers extend, almost claw like, before he drops to the floor, and passes out.
---
{We open once more on Warren standing in front of the camera, only this time it’s Warren resplendent in his demon form. Strong, proud, and smiling.)
“He told you, Spike, that you made a mistake when you went after The Nighthawk. You should have listened, you see….ever since She freed us both, he came back to the only home he knew. He came back to Imperial Wrestling, because he felt like he needed to. He didn’t know that I was guiding him, struggling to get free, fighting to get out, to get control….so that I could be the one to get into that ring, those four posts of complete and utter freedom - where carnage reigns supreme - something you’re so aware of. You pushed too far, and he finally broke through the barrier, and saw what I wanted him to see, what I needed him to see, and he accepted, he gave in….and now I’m in the driving seat….and now Spike…..now your demise is cemented.”
{His grin grows wider, almost as if it takes up his entire face, sending a creep factor into unnatural levels.)
“It amuses me to know, for the first time in a long time you’re walking into a match with such an unknown quantity. You’ve prided yourself on always being the underdog, on always being underestimated, but the tables have turned oh God of Steel, your ego has blinded you….your crown has grown heavy. Instead now, it is you who overlooks your opponent. You look past your progeny and see nothing but a mistake, nothing but wasted potential, you do not see the true legacy of Kane, you do not see the shared blood, the same curse that has befallen you in your past…...the same darkness that has trouble you, your brother, and your father…..for this family is cursed, and has been for decades. Yet you, you remain so self absorbed, so selfish, you only look inwards, you only care about yourself. Tell me, oh Spiked One - how is your dear Freya these days? Heh heh hehehe…..if only you knew….”
{His knowing eyes gleam in the low light of the room, almost as if he’s playing a game. His head tilts forwards, almost as if there was some weird kind of lag in the video feed.)
“You crave blood, oh Blood God, yet another name for yourself. Trust me, there will be plenty to share come Night of the Immortals…..but Warren, all he wants is to take that Championship away from you. He doesn’t want that gold, he has no need for it, because he doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want to be you, he doesn’t want to become corrupt, like his old man….me, however? Well, in the business of professional wrestling, a “man” is measured by his championship, no? I’ll rip it from your cold dead hands if I have to. Warren doesn’t need to know. One thing is for sure, I promised Warren I’d take that championship from you, and I plan on fulfilling that promise one hundred percent, after all, what kind of demon would I be if I didn’t go through on my deals? …..just like the one who made that one with your old man so many years ago…”
{He places a hand over his mouth, but his smile shows either side of the hand.)
“Ooops. Was I not supposed to say that? Come now Spike, did you never wonder how dear Christopher….I’m sorry, Conrad, survived being shot by the British Army for being a fucking terrorist only to show up later with a new face? I knew you were naive….but this is plain stupid…..did you never wonder why you kept losing your sons? Oh, you poor poor man….you know nothing, do you? I almost feel guilty…….almost. It’ll just bring me more pleasure, as I crush you beneath my boot on Monday Night, and as one God’s reign ends…..a true Lord’s reign will begin.”
{He seems to float towards the camera now.}
“There’s no escape, you’ve signed on the dotted line…...such is the fate of your family.”
{And with a smile, and a twisted chuckle, the feed dies.)
Well howdy there pardner.