Post by "Iron Heart" Ethan King on Jul 29, 2017 19:46:36 GMT -5
The Ultimate Series: Episode 1 - False God
Starring Ethan King
Producer Note: All Episodes of 'The Ultimate Series' were filmed prior to the 29th of July, 2017.
Starring Ethan King
Producer Note: All Episodes of 'The Ultimate Series' were filmed prior to the 29th of July, 2017.
A lone spotlight shines down upon the wooden base of a theater stage. The perfectly rounded circle of bright light stands firm against the darkness, which hides away quite literally… everything. Nothing can be seen on stage except for the small circle of wood being illuminated by the spotlight, whatever audience may be in attendance for the event are hidden away by the pitch black that encompasses all. However, while little can be witnessed by the eye, there is one sound that can be heard by ear, and that is the slow, deliberate pacing of a pair of feet, which strike the stage in a way that causes the noise to echo throughout the theatre.
Into the spotlight, steps Ethan King. He is wearing an outfit that bears a significant resemblance to that of the armour the warrior Achilles would have worn during his time. Ethan’s face and trademark blonde locks cannot be spotted underneath the imposing Corinthian helmet that he has donned, and his lithe, athletic physique is mostly hidden away underneath layered bronze armour that covers his torso and shoulders, but leaves his arms free and nimble. To finish the look, he wears similar-looking bronze armour to protect the bottom half of his legs, along with brown sandals. He also carries a sword with him, sharp and dangerous, and a large rounded shield with a gorgon upon it.
He kneels down, placing both the shield and sword at either side of him. He inhales deeply before speaking, before allowing his voice to boom through the auditorium that is mostly hidden by darkness.
“Re-enactment. Performance. Entertainment. No matter what way you look at it, no matter which society or era you look throughout, there has always been some form of stimulation for the masses. From the lower class, all the way to those with the most royal of blood, most, if not all civilizations, have had their own form of this magical experience.
“Nowadays, we have things such as wrestling, boxing, mixed martial arts. But back then? The Romans had blood sport, where gladiators where pit to fight against one another to the death. Even in today’s Third World Countries such as Thailand, cockfighting and the like still takes place. Immoral? Perhaps. Entertaining? Most definitely.
“But besides shedding blood or causing pain upon another to induce excitement, we also had the finer, more graceful arts. In the Elizabethan era, one of the most popular pastimes was to watch a theatrical performance.
“Another civilization this was popular with? The Ancient Greeks.
“And that brings me to you, Dionysus, as you proclaim yourself to be. Or should I call you by who you really are? The rat that hides beneath the persona, and the so-called power… of a God.
“Dion Necurat, the time has come for me to cast my own light upon you.”
Upon saying this, the abundance of stage lights present in the auditorium flood open, revealing the entirety of the widespread stage. Ethan continues to kneel in the centre of it, looking out into the sea of darkness that is still present in the seating area of the auditorium, a stark contrast to the now harsh white lighting that envelops the stage. There is a black curtain behind Ethan that covers the backstage area, and it ruffles with slight movements as Ethan continues to speak.
“Since my return to the WCF back in December last year, you’ve been a figure of constant interest for me, Dion. I’d be lying if I said otherwise, because in all honesty? You reminded me of many of the same people I had to associate with and witness on a daily basis back during my original run with the company around May/June in 2016.
“In most aspects, you were a carbon copy of so many of the other perennial midcarders that I have seen throughout my lifetime. You were like another Teo Del Sol in some ways. Another man with good intentions, another man with a warrior’s spirit and a fiery heart… but a man who was never destined for anything more than an average career with pitifully average achievements and little star power.
“Then, then there were the other men that I could compare you to. The other mediocre achievers who still tried to trade hands with the best of us. The Kyle Kemp’s, the Mikey eXtreme’s, Zero Tolerance and the like. Sure, you’re far more well intending than all of those men and more put together, but in terms of pure potential and probability of becoming a main-event, headlining star? You were in a similar category to all of them. Your chances were slim, almost none in fact. And yet, here you are, you still made it.
“Do you know how rare that is? Out of all the people that arrived during the WCF in your time, you out of all of them were the one to somehow have the last laugh. It didn’t matter that Steven Singh, Kevin Bishop, Jason O’Neal, were all men who took off much quicker than you ever did. It didn’t matter that those same men either had leadership over you (Kevin Bishop) or were just outright better than you and were progressing more rapidly than you did. No, because in the end… you’re the one who is currently holding the ultimate prize, and now you’re surrounded by vicious vultures who are likely to rip that away from you at any chance they get.
“And unfortunately for you, Ultimate Showdown is right around the corner.
“Isn’t it fitting, that you out of all people, the most doubtful and uncertain of the future stars in the group of men like Singh and Bishop… that YOU, Dion Necurat, were able to obtain World Championship Gold, through an incredible stroke of luck that many will not see in their entire lifetimes.
“How did this come to be? What was it that turned your entire career around? One minute, you were being constantly bullied by the irreverent, incapable and wholly inept faction that was Zero Tolerance, and the next? You’re sneaking a win out underneath David Sanchez’s nose, pinning Jared Holmes and becoming the latest transitional champion in a recent line (FPV, Jason O’Neal, etc.) of the WCF.”
Ethan loudly begins to clap, his hands pounding together in a flurry of mock appreciation.
“Congratulations. You played the game, and you risked it all, and you tried hard enough to allow the most improbable possibility from occurring. You did everything in your power, and through a heaped serving of luck and fortunate circumstances, you now stand at the pinnacle of the industry we compete in today. Once again, excellent work.
“And now, Dion? I’m here to rip it all away from you.
“I’m here to end you.”
A group of six stagehands come bursting out from behind the curtain. They are paired off, and each pair carries with them a different object. The first carries with them a purposely oversized mask, with various colours of paint and symbols spread over it. The second places a tall carved statue a few metres Ethan, a statue which seems to represent a godlike figure; upon closer inspect, it’s clear that the god is Dionysus himself. And finally, the third pair hold a model of the perfect Greek temple, with classical pillars that allow access to a small area of worship. Each item is placed down by the pairs, and then left to sit behind Ethan, as the stagehands file back through the curtain, leaving Ethan alone on stage once more.
“It’s time we acknowledge the turning point in your career, Dion. The one thing that seems to have turned you from the weak, insignificant, non-factor that you were back when you were The Brotherhood’s whipping boy, to the World Champion that I must now obliterate.
“Your career changed the moment you began to believe more in Dionysus, the moment you started to accept him into yourself and allow his spirit to interconnect with yours. And, in some twisted turn of events, you started to ‘become’ him. Or at least, that’s what you thought. You never stated it outright, nor did you think you were some ethereal figure that rose before us all, like one Joey Flash not too long ago. But instead, you dreamed of it, when you fell into your deep dark pits of nightmares and despair, you were reminded of your ‘connection’ with Dionysus, and thus that gave you the confidence to become what you are today.
“Through your worship of the God, and through your self-imaginings, you, a low-class warrior by the name of Dion Necurat, managed to topple The World. You managed to conquer challenges that no-one thought you’d ever be able to. And that? That’s marvellous, it’s incredible, it’s…
“Unacceptable.”
He says the last word with a hint of spite behind it, as he reaches down to touch the hilt of the sword that rests by his side.
“I remember facing you not too long ago. It was shortly after Everest had formed, and we were just beginning to set our sights on greater things. During one of our first matches together as a solid three man unit, we were pitted against the dying embers of The Brotherhood. This team featured Frank Patrick Venable, Joe Smarts and you, Dion. The three of you were the first victims that had to go blow for blow with Everest, and like all other teams that stepped before us, you fell to our feet, unable to do anything but watched as your teammates were smacked around the ring as we took the life out of Joe Smarts and pinned him for the three count. And all you did was silently watch, powerless to do anything except accept the fate you had been handed by your superiors.
“But the result? That’s unimportant. It’s miniscule, in fact. That was months ago, and here we are, two different men, stepping into a much different type of match, with much higher stakes on the line than just some random six-man tag match on Slam. What is important, however… is what I said to you before the start of that match. When I was crucifying you and your teammates, I made mention of one of the reasons I thought you were so god-fucking-awful at the time, and funnily enough, it’s still a problem that seems to exist with you until this day.
“That week, when we met in that fated squared circle, I said to you before our match that you were always reliant upon others. That on your own? You were nothing, that you were unable to accomplish anything without others backing up your cause.
“I accused you of being second-fiddle to the likes of FPV and to Kevin Bishop. And you know what? I was fucking right to say that. When Kevin Bishop up and left you for a more promising group of talent, you had no problem with it. You were subservient, you were the little bitch that everyone knows you for, the same guy that was unresponsive while he was getting kicked around by plebs like Zero Tolerance. You were being what we all knew you were, Dion. And you? You did nothing about it. You just accepted it, like you accepted the fact that you were a talent of average complexity and ability, and that you would do very little except be used to establish greater, more talented athletes.
“But back to the main point, Dion. I told you that you were playing second fiddle, and do you want to know what that’s called? That’s called a weakness. It means that when the time comes, and you’re left on your own, you won’t be capable of stepping up to the challenge and achieve on your own. And guess what? You still have that weakness, because now?
“Now you play second fiddle to an invisible God, you place your faith in Dionysus and hope that his will and spirit will carry you to the Promised Land. And you know what? It did, it got you to where you wanted to be. And now?
“I’m about to tear it all down. You see Dion, religion is a funny thing. There are many believers, there are many non-believers, and there are many people who simply don’t care. I happen to be one of the latter, I don’t believe in such things, because I have always known that I can only place my faith into myself, for I am the only one that can control what happens to me.
“But there are others, like yourself, who seem to believe that these things… religion, belief, faith in another being… can somehow help you along your journey. And this is where you weakness starts to come into effect, because once I disprove Dionysus, once I disprove religion, once I crush you with a heavy-handed blow? None of it will matter, none of it will be there to help you when you are stuck in desperate times.
“Your reliance on Dionysus will be the end of you. By being subservient to him, you put yourself at further risk. Thankfully, I am here to help you, I am here to help show you the way towards a better life, a life that doesn’t rely on you being another person’s – or in this case a God’s – ultimate bitch.”
He smiles from underneath the Corinthian helmet, as he now lifts the sword from the stage floor, inspecting it keenly.
“Let me give you a little lesson about religion and worship, Dion. As you know, religion has been around for a very, very long time. Even before the ancient eras of Rome and Greece, who became the first societies to introduce numerous Gods, rather than just the One God that all previous religions seemed to believe in.
“But before people worshiped and put their faith into Gods… what did they put their faith into, exactly?”
Ethan begins to push himself to his feet, picking up the shield as he does so. His armour clinks lightly as he swiftly stands back up, before walking over towards the mask and statue, standing in between the two items. He gestures towards both of them with either hand, shield pointed one way, sword in the other.
“This is what they believed in.
“Back in small villages, groups of men and women would carve things such as masks and statues to represent something else – something that they could look up towards and find relief in. They used these masks to symbolize their faith, as though the mask itself was embedded with something resembling a Higher Power of some sort. This is when stories would become created, and they would spread from village to village, causing more and more of these masks to be made. The fables would grow larger, and soon the children would carry forth those ideas into their own generation, and soon enough? They upgraded from mere masks, to large statues representing powerful figures and beings, ones that may have looked like us humans, sure, but were something of an entirely different nature altogether. The tales grew more vivid, our imaginations ran more wild, and gradually, all these varying symbols would turn into the oldest forms of religion. Each culture would develop their own, and once it became widespread enough, these forms would go on to represent all the different places of The World.
“But this alone? It simply wasn’t enough. People needed more, they needed something more concrete to latch onto. They couldn’t just worship a mask, or a statue of an unnamed figure. As humans naturally do, they go on to develop and extend these ideas into something different, and that’s where these temples would eventually come into play.”
Ethan paces over towards the Greek temple, touching it with the edge of the sword delicately.
“The Greeks were the ones to create the Pantheon of Gods. Rather than just worship one figurine, statue, mask, or whatever it is that the particular society wanted to believe in, they created a whole new set of Gods for people to put their faith into, people like yourself, Dion. Not too long after the Romans had come into Greece to invade them, they then adopted the same Gods, but made them their own, with their own temples and names, to differentiate them between the Greek versions. Do you see where I’m going with this, Dion?
“There has been a recurring theme throughout religion, one that many naysayers will most likely say is the reason why all religion must be false. In a way, it is also the reason I am going to thoroughly destroy you and leave you without any hope for the future.
“The major problem with religion, and the reason I myself feel in all ways indifferent and uncaring towards it, is the fact that it is entirely man-made. It is a self-created construct that was created a long time ago by those who wanted something to believe in. What was it exactly that prompted them into doing this? Who the fuck knows. But at the end of the day, we are the people who have created these masks and statues, we are the ones who have built these temples from the ground up, and we are the ones who choose to act as if there are some form of God, or multiple Gods, reigning above us in the sky, in a mystical place called Heaven, or from Olympus, or whatever our respective religions try to convince us into believing in.
“But tell me, Dion. What’s one thing that people can do to things that are man-made?”
In one fluid motion, Ethan slices forward, easily slicing through the temple-model and causing it to topple over to the side, halved.
“They can be destroyed over time, or in an instant, depending on the power of the person, or people, trying to destroy it.”
He points down towards the now halved temple.
“This is what you believe in, Dion. This is what you entrust to empower you and push you above the waters that are slowly rising, slowly beginning to drown you and cause you to sink straight down to rock bottom. You’ve reached The Pinnacle, but now? All the threats are starting to close in around you, and you’re starting to see these threats and they’re making you queasy, they’re making you uncomfortable. That’s why, in terms of this whole Ultimate Showdown match, and in terms of the WCF in general, you’ve gone silent. You’ve disappeared into thin air, so much for all that pride you gained by winning the World Championship. So much for doing that for your people, for those that have always put your faith into you, just as you’ve put your faith into this non-existing figure who you think gives you the strength to overcome all obstacles, should you be steadfast in your loyalty towards him.”
Ethan chuckles, as he swaggers over towards the carved statue of Dionysus. While he does so, he disrespectfully drags the swords end into the stage, allowing it to dig slightly into the wood beneath his feet. He squares his body to the statue, standing before it with a sly smile on his lips.
“I can see why you doubt yourself, Dion. You aren’t like the rest of us that populate this match. Out of all people here, you are the biggest outlier by far. It’s clear that you are outmatched, and that in this high intensity situation – you will be the quickest to crack underneath the pressure. There’s no shame in that whatsoever, you simply aren’t cut out for this sort of stage. Sure, you were able to bring a feel good moment last month for the WCF audience, but that was at Blast. That was at a regular PPV, in a match were Jason fucking O’Neal of all people was given an opportunity at the World Title.
“This is exactly why you question your every move, this is why when you go to sleep, or when you fall unconscious, you are immediately taken into a world where you aren’t confident in your own course of action. With Dionysus? You believe in yourself, you grow confident. But now the times are changing, and you’re getting further and further away from the little comfort zone that you’ve created for yourself. That comfort zone is…
“Dion Necurat, Man of the People.
“Dion Necurat, Humble Family Man.
“Dion Necurat, Representative of the Mediocre.
“You weren’t made for this. Sure, with enough hard work and dedication, and maybe a bit more luck thrown your way, you could’ve made it here on your own naturally, without the help of a ‘God’. But it all happened far too quickly for you, you’ve advanced to a league that’s far beyond your everyday level. One win does not immediately ascend you to the top of the food chain, Dion. And you’re about to learn that the hard way, because this one match? It’s going to signify quite possibly the fastest fall from grace in the history of the WCF, faster than Joey Flash winning the belt at WAR and then having to drop it only minutes later, faster than Jared Holmes spending two years to get to the top, only to lose to you of all fucking people. You’re going to be worse than the both of them put together, because while the other two may be capable of bouncing back… you? You don’t have that in you. Once you’re broken, you’re done for good, because that’s the type of man you are, Necurat.
“Without your faith, what are you but a puppet to be played by men like myself and David? Nothing. So with your faith destroyed, and your mind and body soon to suffer a similar fate… I want to ask you something.
“Have you ever heard of the Divine Right of Kings?
“The Divine Right of Kings is the belief that the King of a nation, is the man that has been selected by God to represent him. It was more so something that was thought of in the Middle Ages, but it very much applies to today’s age, for someone like you, Dion…
“Because after Ultimate Showdown? Everest are going to be the Kings of the landscape that is the WCF, and with your God and your belief in him turned into nothing but a tattered mess of ruins and debris… that means that we’re going to be all that you can look up to, Dion.”
Ethan swings forth the shield strapped onto his arm, smashing it straight into the statue and sends it flying backward, crumbling upon contact with the stage floor. After doing so, Ethan drops the sword and shield, he has no reaction even as they loudly clang and echo through the auditorium.
“We’re going to the men that you put your faith into, for you will have no other choice but to serve underneath us.
“This is the fate that has been written for you, this is the only way you’re going to make something out of yourself after Everest is done ruining both you and your lacklustre title reign, hopefully removing it from the memories of everyone as we bring forth a new era of dominance that has never been witnessed before.
“You’re merely along for the ride, Dion. Everyone is.
“Accept it, before it’s too late.”
He smiles again, before turning around to face the ‘audience’ in the auditorium. Now, the lights are on, allowing each and every seat to be seen from where he stands. He revels in the moment, as his big performance comes to an end.
Not a single person is in those seats, not one. They are empty and lifeless, and in a certain way, they are eerie and haunting, as not a single sound emanates from within the building.
In the back rows though, towards the entrance/exit to the room, Ethan spots lengthy light brown hair, that runs down well beyond the shoulder in its own silky smooth way. The owner of the hair is graceful in her movements, as she works her slim, toned body closer and closer towards exit. Upon seeing her, Ethan’s eyes widen. He takes of the Corinthian helmet he had donned for the video he had been shooting, and leaps off the stage, landing in a roll that sends him back up to his feet. He immediately begins to rush up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
“Cara! Cara wait! I’m coming babe, don’t… don’t…”
He draws nearer towards her, but as he gets closer, he realizes that she is becoming more and more transparent as he covers the distance between them. By the time he is there, she is all but gone, non-existent, and he can do nothing but clutch at the empty space that ‘she’ once occupied. He breathes heavily, the mess of hair that was earlier hidden behind the helmet now coming well over his eyes, half blinding him as his eyes show a hint of becoming watery.
"Don’t leave me", he had wanted to say. But he couldn’t.
Because he had already been the one to leave her once before.