Post by Earth-616 Holmes on Jan 24, 2017 18:15:37 GMT -5
"Inside this folder are a great number of randomly selected contracts. I don't care if they're #beachkrew, Rebellution - I don't care if they're up and coming stars, veterans.... This is what I think of you, "WCF Galaxy." I don't give a shit." - Seth Lerch
Moments after Seth announced the day of reckoning, Andre Holmes didn't know what to do. That statement was a blow to everything he worked so hard for in the WCF and he saw with his own eyes to the screen. His name on a contract being shredded. It tore his heart, shattered it into pieces and Andre was in the locker room falling down onto his knees. Hands nearly ripping hair out of his head, yelling at the top of his voice box. It must have been a fake vision, his mind must have been playing tricks on him. No, it was real, it was damn real. Andre was officially destroyed and ruined; In layman's terms, Seth Lerch did not give a shit. He tore Andre's contract in the shredder thus his championship reign, his legacy, his career in the WCF was entirely over.
Andre packed up his stuff including the WCF Tag Team and Hardcore Championship belts in his hands. All his gear, his belongings in the large bag with the championship belts carried around his waist. He hoisted the bag over his right shoulder as he was done zipping up his black hoodie and putting on his black joggers. He stormed out from the locker room, marching down the hallway with his MMA gloves on never so furious about being robbed by someone he trusted. How could Seth Lerch do this to him? He put everything into becoming a legit star in the business, five months of performing week after week for this bastard owner all down the drain. As Andre reached to the entrance of the garage for the arena, a line of bodyguards dressed in black stood in front of him. Their mission was to reclaim the belts. Andre dropped his bag almost tearing up, spit drooling from the left corner of his lip, heavy breathing with his fists tightening up. The bodyguard in the middle stepped forward, walking like he owned the place. The world against Andre Holmes and it's God, Seth Lerch, had outlawed him out.
Bodyguard: Mr. Holmes. We're here for the championship belts, please hand them over and we'll let you be on your way.
He looked at the belts resting in the palms of his gloves. Andre shook his head and the guards started getting closer.
Bodyguard: Mr. Holmes, we will not ask again. Hand the championship belts over or we will be forced to do so.
Andre Holmes: Come and get it.
A bodyguard to the right rushed in to Andre but Andre landed a sick right elbow knocking him onto the cold concrete floor. The rest of staff and other workers backstage ran for cover, they didn't want to be near an enraged Andre Holmes. Two more bodyguards rushed in to try and pin him down. That attempted failed, Andre is a world class Mixed Martial Artist. He threw up a left Roundhouse kick that clocked the chin of the first bodyguard and used his momentum of his falling weight to roll over his back and land a nice Axe Kick on the top of the other guard's head. Three fallen bodyguards were on the concrete nearly unconscious from the blows they suffered from Andre. The rest of guards surrounded him, creating a circle to cut him off and Andre posed in that Southpaw Kickboxing stance frantically looking around at the short space he has between them.
Bodyguard: NOW!
They all rushed in simultaneously and dog piled Andre who was still trying to fight back. The numbers game was successful. He couldn't get away in time and they pinned him down. Turned him over on his back and held his arms behind his head as he screamed and resisted as much as he could. Time slowed down, all their yelling was echoed. Vision blurry but the tunnel vision was clear. He saw the bodyguard take away not only the WCF Tag Team Championship belt but the coveted WCF Hardcore Championship belt. It ruined him, he screamed for mercy, screamed for fury.
Andre Holmes: YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!!! I'LL KILL YOU! SETH, YOU HEAR ME?! I'LL KILL YOU FOR THIS! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
A gasp of air and Andre sat up in his bed with his lower body covered by the blue sheets. Sweating heavily on his face, he was hyperventilating. His heart pounding against his chest so hard that he even needed to put his hand on his chest. Kaitlyn shuffled a little on her back and Andre needed to get out of bed. He walked into his bathroom and stood in front of the sink, hot water tap turned on then washed his face. One good look in the mirror and he saw him. Crazy J. Crazy J looking right back at him, laughing with the Hardcore Title hanging from around his neck. He couldn't bear it, it was disrespectful, it was unbearable. His hands held the edge of the sink on both hands; Tightening to the point where his hands turned bright yellow.
Andre marched out of the bathroom and immediately got dressed in his Reebok gear. Keys in his hands, he got in the car with the garage door open, backed up and left the house making sure all doors were closed. Hands were tightly gripped on the steering wheel, right foot slammed down on the gas pedal. There was only one place Andre could take his anger out and that was to his owned gym, the Holmes MMA Gym. Crazy J ruined that belt, ruined his heritage and ruined the legacy. Mocked about his race that no one even believes he could beat him. Now the tables have turned, they all thought the match wouldn't happen. He thought it wouldn't happen.
Nightmare on Holmes street.
Andre packed up his stuff including the WCF Tag Team and Hardcore Championship belts in his hands. All his gear, his belongings in the large bag with the championship belts carried around his waist. He hoisted the bag over his right shoulder as he was done zipping up his black hoodie and putting on his black joggers. He stormed out from the locker room, marching down the hallway with his MMA gloves on never so furious about being robbed by someone he trusted. How could Seth Lerch do this to him? He put everything into becoming a legit star in the business, five months of performing week after week for this bastard owner all down the drain. As Andre reached to the entrance of the garage for the arena, a line of bodyguards dressed in black stood in front of him. Their mission was to reclaim the belts. Andre dropped his bag almost tearing up, spit drooling from the left corner of his lip, heavy breathing with his fists tightening up. The bodyguard in the middle stepped forward, walking like he owned the place. The world against Andre Holmes and it's God, Seth Lerch, had outlawed him out.
Bodyguard: Mr. Holmes. We're here for the championship belts, please hand them over and we'll let you be on your way.
He looked at the belts resting in the palms of his gloves. Andre shook his head and the guards started getting closer.
Bodyguard: Mr. Holmes, we will not ask again. Hand the championship belts over or we will be forced to do so.
Andre Holmes: Come and get it.
A bodyguard to the right rushed in to Andre but Andre landed a sick right elbow knocking him onto the cold concrete floor. The rest of staff and other workers backstage ran for cover, they didn't want to be near an enraged Andre Holmes. Two more bodyguards rushed in to try and pin him down. That attempted failed, Andre is a world class Mixed Martial Artist. He threw up a left Roundhouse kick that clocked the chin of the first bodyguard and used his momentum of his falling weight to roll over his back and land a nice Axe Kick on the top of the other guard's head. Three fallen bodyguards were on the concrete nearly unconscious from the blows they suffered from Andre. The rest of guards surrounded him, creating a circle to cut him off and Andre posed in that Southpaw Kickboxing stance frantically looking around at the short space he has between them.
Bodyguard: NOW!
They all rushed in simultaneously and dog piled Andre who was still trying to fight back. The numbers game was successful. He couldn't get away in time and they pinned him down. Turned him over on his back and held his arms behind his head as he screamed and resisted as much as he could. Time slowed down, all their yelling was echoed. Vision blurry but the tunnel vision was clear. He saw the bodyguard take away not only the WCF Tag Team Championship belt but the coveted WCF Hardcore Championship belt. It ruined him, he screamed for mercy, screamed for fury.
Andre Holmes: YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!!! I'LL KILL YOU! SETH, YOU HEAR ME?! I'LL KILL YOU FOR THIS! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
A gasp of air and Andre sat up in his bed with his lower body covered by the blue sheets. Sweating heavily on his face, he was hyperventilating. His heart pounding against his chest so hard that he even needed to put his hand on his chest. Kaitlyn shuffled a little on her back and Andre needed to get out of bed. He walked into his bathroom and stood in front of the sink, hot water tap turned on then washed his face. One good look in the mirror and he saw him. Crazy J. Crazy J looking right back at him, laughing with the Hardcore Title hanging from around his neck. He couldn't bear it, it was disrespectful, it was unbearable. His hands held the edge of the sink on both hands; Tightening to the point where his hands turned bright yellow.
Andre marched out of the bathroom and immediately got dressed in his Reebok gear. Keys in his hands, he got in the car with the garage door open, backed up and left the house making sure all doors were closed. Hands were tightly gripped on the steering wheel, right foot slammed down on the gas pedal. There was only one place Andre could take his anger out and that was to his owned gym, the Holmes MMA Gym. Crazy J ruined that belt, ruined his heritage and ruined the legacy. Mocked about his race that no one even believes he could beat him. Now the tables have turned, they all thought the match wouldn't happen. He thought it wouldn't happen.
Nightmare on Holmes street.