Post by Vincent Augustine on Dec 30, 2018 23:38:21 GMT -5
TWO HOURS AFTER SLAM
Vincent Augustine is seen walking away from the event; back pack slung over one shoulder, when suddenly he falls forward, face first into the ground. A small white SUV pulls up and two elderly women get out, pick him up and push him into the back seat, wrapping duct tape around his wrists. They jump into the SUV and tear off, their tail lights fading into the darkness.
DECEMBER 31ST 2200 HOURS
An immense pounding in his head pulled Vincent from slumber; he shot bolt upright and scanned the area. The room was mostly dark, and he lay upon a fine leather couch. His shoes were gone, and he wore sweat pants for a man at least six inches shorter than himself. Twisting on the couch he set both feet upon the floor and took a deep breath, the quick realization that something was different took hold of him, he shuttered.
“They are gone, well not gone, but they are all one now.” An elderly Asian woman spoke softly and directly from out of the darkness of the room.
For the first time in months Vincent wasn’t feeling any chaos in his mind, he was feeling an unfamiliar feeling, clarity. “How?” He simply asked as he inhaled and exhaled a deep breath, his eyes slowly gaining focus, his headache slowly subsiding.
“Very ancient technique, you lucky I only one in America who know how to perform it.” On the wall the woman turned a dimmer switch, bringing the lights up a bit in the room. She grabbed a tray with teapot and cups on it, then walked to Vincent, sat down and poured the man a glass.
“What do I owe you?” Vincent asked as he took the cup and swallowed it down in one big swig.
“You owe nothing, I only do what need be done. My brother saw you, saw the demons you battle, we help, it what we do.” The woman smiled at Vincent an nodded when she finished.
“Why me? There are many out there more deserving.” Vincent furled his brow, clearly he didn’t believe he deserved some kind of redemption, and not one like this.
“You good man, struggle with things, good man always need help.” She replied as she poured Vincent another glass of tea.
“I am far from a good man. My heart is filled with evil, anger, pain, torment. Even right now I am mad at you for what you did, for taking something from me. They may have been demons, may have been evil, but they were mine.” Vincent took the cup from her and stared at it for a long moment before tipping it back and draining it all again in a big swig.
“They no gone Mr. They still there, just no longer battle for control, all is one now, you are merged, see I take nothing from you, I just put puzzle back together.” The woman smiled and nodded at Vincent.
“So you mean…” Vincent’s words trailed off as he searched for what to say, what to ask.
“Yes you are Vincent Augustine again. No more nice Vincent, Mean Vincent, and Smart Vincent. You now just Vincent Augustine, man with clear mind and focus.” The woman smiled triumphantly as she saw the smile come across Vincent’s face.
“What time is it?” Vincent scanned the room searching out a clock, to no avail. “What day?”
“It is New Year Eve, 10 15 PM the woman replied. Almost new year. See new man, for new year.” She smiled again, nodded and filled up his tea cup. “I leave you to think, we talk in a little bit, big fireworks show on roof, you want to come see.” The woman nodded again, stood up, and left through the door directly behind her, next to the dimmer switch.
As the door slammed, Vincent sat back on the couch, his eyes fixating on the tea cup she had poured for him, now resting on the tray with the kettle. It was some kind of Green Tea, and it was good. A small smile graced Vincent’s face at the thought. Closing his eyes, Vincent took in the quiet in his head; he savored it like the first bite of a fresh steak. Opening his eyes, Vincent looked at his toes; he wiggled them for a moment, smiled and stood up. It was like feeling his extremities for the first time. There were so many things to ask, so many things to figure out, but none of them mattered in this very moment, he was primal, like a 12 year old discovering how to make his hard on go away.
What felt like an eternity passed as Vincent sat there on the couch, lost in his mind, the clarity of it all. His tea got cold, but that didn’t bother him, he had two cups, and really everything else was what mattered. His future for the first time in so long was finally his. Standing up, Vincent moved for the door, he swung it open, stepped into the hallway and made his way for the stairs at the end. He strode up them with excitement, answers awaited him on the roof, and he had all the questions figured out.
Stepping out onto the roof, he arrived just in time to see the fireworks begin. He strode up and stood next to the small Asian woman whom had spoke with him earlier. There they stood, watching in silence and the answers came to Vincent, everything came to him in that moment, he finally understood what he had to do, what he had become, and how he could use it. He smiled as the show finished and the woman turned to look at him.
“You know what you need do?” She asked.
“I do, thank you.” Vincent bent down and hugged the woman. “What is your name?” He asked softly.
“Judy.” She replied.
“Thank you, I’ll be back in a little over a week.” He pulled away, nodded and made his way off the roof, and down to the street. There he pulled a phone from his pocket, a small note said ‘passcode is 1532’ he smiled, punched the numbers and ordered an Uber. The ride showed up a few minutes later, Vincent climbed in and the car drove off, Judy watching from the roof.
JANUARY 1ST 1000 HOURS
16 Year old Billy Johnson was bombarded by text messages from his friends, all of them telling him to watch this video on You tube. Normally he would watch it on the phone, but something said he needed to watch this on the big screen. So he sat down before his TV, or his dads TV to be most accurate. He turned it on, logged into Youtube and typed the video’s name ‘There’s a storm coming.’ The first option had a black thumbnail but showed it had been uploaded an hour ago, around the same time Billy’s phone blew up. He picked it and sat back.
A camera bounced around, and then came to a rest starring at a chair, solid concrete wall behind it. Then a man moved before the camera, he turned, and sat down. Billy recognized the man immediately, it was Vincent Augustine. There was something different about him. His hair was combed, his face shaved, his eyes, they looked…not confused.
I’m not here to bore you, but to introduce you to me. For those out there don’t know me, my name is Vincent Augustine. We have so many things to talk about, things to discuss, and we will get to them in time, but right now let’s start from the beginning.
Vincent adjusted himself, grabbed a water bottle, took a sip and shook his head. He breathed a deep breath and exhaled as he gathered his composure.
It was this time last year that I came to WCF to mixed reactions. Sure I was standout high school and college wrestler, but this is a different animal. I struggled to adjust, but you all saw that, I felt it. But I didn’t quit, no I fought to do something about it, to make myself better, but then my life turned upside down. Three months were taken from me, my mind was taken from me, but I came back. What did I come back to? A fucking high school cock sucking fest. That’s right I came back to a bunch of narcissistic retards stroking each other off and telling each other how great they are.
Vincent paused a moment, shook his head, took a sip of water, and then continued.
For months I tried to fit in, tried to be the big swinging dick that people apparently want to see. Truth is that wasn’t me, not because I can’t be, but because I was broken. Now at this point you have to have figured out that isn’t the case anymore. You probably know what I do, that life hits you in the dick sometimes, and you have to get up. Well I have gotten back up, and I’m tired of the bullshit I see around me. I’m tired of fucking retards telling me how important this is, or that is. They covet bullshit like belts, and their win loss records. Little people scared that someone will come along and expose them for who they are. Well I am here, and I have no love for anyone in the WCF, no love for what they hold dear, for what they covet. See I covet something far greater, something tangible, I covet their sadness, their anger, their dreams shattered. I saw my mistakes even before I was fixed; Teo showed them to me, hell he exposed me to my own weakness. That was a mistake by Teo, but I will offer this one time only, THANK YOU.
Vincent paused again, took a sip of his drink and set it back down.
See for weeks I was focused on beating people, focused on becoming a champion. But that’s not me, it’s not who I have ever been. I want to hurt people, not just beat them. It’s one thing to beat a man, it’s another thing to take everything he ever wanted, to destroy his very being, and that is the man that I am. So while these clowns in the WCF focus on their titles, I’ll focus on taking their dreams, destroying their desires, and ruining their lives, and when I’m done they can thank me for opening their eyes to the weakness I have exposed.
Vincent took another sip of his water.
Let’s start with One. It has so many meanings for me. See it was the first Slam after One that I made my debut, a win over Alina Murphy and Matthew Black. Who? That’s the point it doesn’t matter. What matters is what I took from them, and that was nothing. They left the ring, their pride hurt, but not taken. And that has been my mistake for the last year. I didn’t take what I wanted, no I let people get away, let them off the hook. But that has changed, no longer will people get off the hook, no longer will I let people just walk away. I will take from them everything they hold dear.
Vincent closed his eyes, took a deep breath, grabbed his water, took a sip and continued.
So my first ONE comes around, and what do I find myself involved with? Jaice Wilds.
Vincent placed both elbows on his knees, leaned forward and placed his chin upon his interlaced fingers. For a long moment he stared at the camera, his eyes piercing the viewers on the other end. Finally he laughed threw his hands up and shook his head.
Let me read you something this fucking moron said. ‘Ya boi made his long-awaited return, as promised. And get thrown mid-tier talent as per management’s terrible booking policies.’ Let’s start at the top for this one. First off he clearly had someone else write the damn thing after the first two words. No educated man with half a brain would ever say Ya Boi spelled Y A BOI. Everything else in his post was spelled right, therefore telling me that someone else wrote everything after the first two words. But moving from that, the fact he thought anyone cared about his promise to return is laughable. No one gave a shit, at this moment no one gives a shit. See that is the problem with the WCF I talked about just a bit ago, he is so arrogant that he has to float his own ego, probably hoping some menial peon in the WCF will think he’s hot shit and come rub his dick in the shower. But this bitch, he’s going to get no love, except from the pillow he sleeps with, or Rosie and her five friends.
Vincent clears his throat, takes a sip of his water, and places it back on the floor next to him.
Now let’s move on from the first sentence and focus on the second. He clearly sees me as mid-level talent. Good for him, it will make it all feel so much better when I break him in the middle of the ring, his false bravado taken from him, exposed before the very fans he wants clamoring for his dick. Fact is the fans don’t give a shit about him, so I will do the fans a favor, I will take my mid-tier boot and stomp a high grade hole in his ass, one so big that Odin’s dick will fit in it without touching the walls. When I’m done he can tuck tail between his legs, or in his ass, either way doesn’t matter to me, he can suck his pride, and when he grows an actual pair of balls he can have a rematch, that way I can open the hole in his ass back up for the second time, and push him the fuck out of the WCF door. It doesn’t matter what you did in the past, what matters is what you are going to do, and your year Jaice is going to start with a whimper, the sound will come from your own mouth as I take from you the pride you so shamelessly toss around.
Vincent took another swig of his water.
So get your ideas together, put your shit together, prepare for what you think is an easy battle. Just know that respect for me is overdue, I’m not asking for it, I’m fucking taking it, so doubt me all you want, believe you are better than me, Let you self-esteem grow, because in the end I want you to actually believe you have a chance. Because you see there is nothing else for me in the world. I have one job, one thing I am good at, and at ONE I’m going to show the world what I am good at, while showing them that you don’t have what it takes to beat as you say, ‘mid-tier’ talent. So get ready Jaice, ONE is going to be a whole lot of damn fun.
Vincent grabbed his water, finished it off and tossed the bottle over his shoulder.
Looks like the shows about over. One is coming, and it’s going to be amazing. My new year starts with an ass stomping, make sure you tune in to watch. When Jaice is destroyed the stadium will go crazy, and everything will begin to add up. That’s right, everything will come together, the pieces will fall into place, and it will all add up to one damn thing. The entire WCF roster on notice, no one is safe, and I’m coming for all of them.
The image faded to black, and Billy sat back. He had seen Vincent before, never gave him a second though, but now he was transfixed by what he had just seen. Vincent was clearly not what he had ever expected. He smiled, him and his friends would have to find a way to see One. Turning off the TV he texted his friends and ran down the stairs, the planning had to start, and it had to start today, one was a week away.
Vincent Augustine is seen walking away from the event; back pack slung over one shoulder, when suddenly he falls forward, face first into the ground. A small white SUV pulls up and two elderly women get out, pick him up and push him into the back seat, wrapping duct tape around his wrists. They jump into the SUV and tear off, their tail lights fading into the darkness.
DECEMBER 31ST 2200 HOURS
An immense pounding in his head pulled Vincent from slumber; he shot bolt upright and scanned the area. The room was mostly dark, and he lay upon a fine leather couch. His shoes were gone, and he wore sweat pants for a man at least six inches shorter than himself. Twisting on the couch he set both feet upon the floor and took a deep breath, the quick realization that something was different took hold of him, he shuttered.
“They are gone, well not gone, but they are all one now.” An elderly Asian woman spoke softly and directly from out of the darkness of the room.
For the first time in months Vincent wasn’t feeling any chaos in his mind, he was feeling an unfamiliar feeling, clarity. “How?” He simply asked as he inhaled and exhaled a deep breath, his eyes slowly gaining focus, his headache slowly subsiding.
“Very ancient technique, you lucky I only one in America who know how to perform it.” On the wall the woman turned a dimmer switch, bringing the lights up a bit in the room. She grabbed a tray with teapot and cups on it, then walked to Vincent, sat down and poured the man a glass.
“What do I owe you?” Vincent asked as he took the cup and swallowed it down in one big swig.
“You owe nothing, I only do what need be done. My brother saw you, saw the demons you battle, we help, it what we do.” The woman smiled at Vincent an nodded when she finished.
“Why me? There are many out there more deserving.” Vincent furled his brow, clearly he didn’t believe he deserved some kind of redemption, and not one like this.
“You good man, struggle with things, good man always need help.” She replied as she poured Vincent another glass of tea.
“I am far from a good man. My heart is filled with evil, anger, pain, torment. Even right now I am mad at you for what you did, for taking something from me. They may have been demons, may have been evil, but they were mine.” Vincent took the cup from her and stared at it for a long moment before tipping it back and draining it all again in a big swig.
“They no gone Mr. They still there, just no longer battle for control, all is one now, you are merged, see I take nothing from you, I just put puzzle back together.” The woman smiled and nodded at Vincent.
“So you mean…” Vincent’s words trailed off as he searched for what to say, what to ask.
“Yes you are Vincent Augustine again. No more nice Vincent, Mean Vincent, and Smart Vincent. You now just Vincent Augustine, man with clear mind and focus.” The woman smiled triumphantly as she saw the smile come across Vincent’s face.
“What time is it?” Vincent scanned the room searching out a clock, to no avail. “What day?”
“It is New Year Eve, 10 15 PM the woman replied. Almost new year. See new man, for new year.” She smiled again, nodded and filled up his tea cup. “I leave you to think, we talk in a little bit, big fireworks show on roof, you want to come see.” The woman nodded again, stood up, and left through the door directly behind her, next to the dimmer switch.
As the door slammed, Vincent sat back on the couch, his eyes fixating on the tea cup she had poured for him, now resting on the tray with the kettle. It was some kind of Green Tea, and it was good. A small smile graced Vincent’s face at the thought. Closing his eyes, Vincent took in the quiet in his head; he savored it like the first bite of a fresh steak. Opening his eyes, Vincent looked at his toes; he wiggled them for a moment, smiled and stood up. It was like feeling his extremities for the first time. There were so many things to ask, so many things to figure out, but none of them mattered in this very moment, he was primal, like a 12 year old discovering how to make his hard on go away.
What felt like an eternity passed as Vincent sat there on the couch, lost in his mind, the clarity of it all. His tea got cold, but that didn’t bother him, he had two cups, and really everything else was what mattered. His future for the first time in so long was finally his. Standing up, Vincent moved for the door, he swung it open, stepped into the hallway and made his way for the stairs at the end. He strode up them with excitement, answers awaited him on the roof, and he had all the questions figured out.
Stepping out onto the roof, he arrived just in time to see the fireworks begin. He strode up and stood next to the small Asian woman whom had spoke with him earlier. There they stood, watching in silence and the answers came to Vincent, everything came to him in that moment, he finally understood what he had to do, what he had become, and how he could use it. He smiled as the show finished and the woman turned to look at him.
“You know what you need do?” She asked.
“I do, thank you.” Vincent bent down and hugged the woman. “What is your name?” He asked softly.
“Judy.” She replied.
“Thank you, I’ll be back in a little over a week.” He pulled away, nodded and made his way off the roof, and down to the street. There he pulled a phone from his pocket, a small note said ‘passcode is 1532’ he smiled, punched the numbers and ordered an Uber. The ride showed up a few minutes later, Vincent climbed in and the car drove off, Judy watching from the roof.
JANUARY 1ST 1000 HOURS
16 Year old Billy Johnson was bombarded by text messages from his friends, all of them telling him to watch this video on You tube. Normally he would watch it on the phone, but something said he needed to watch this on the big screen. So he sat down before his TV, or his dads TV to be most accurate. He turned it on, logged into Youtube and typed the video’s name ‘There’s a storm coming.’ The first option had a black thumbnail but showed it had been uploaded an hour ago, around the same time Billy’s phone blew up. He picked it and sat back.
A camera bounced around, and then came to a rest starring at a chair, solid concrete wall behind it. Then a man moved before the camera, he turned, and sat down. Billy recognized the man immediately, it was Vincent Augustine. There was something different about him. His hair was combed, his face shaved, his eyes, they looked…not confused.
I’m not here to bore you, but to introduce you to me. For those out there don’t know me, my name is Vincent Augustine. We have so many things to talk about, things to discuss, and we will get to them in time, but right now let’s start from the beginning.
Vincent adjusted himself, grabbed a water bottle, took a sip and shook his head. He breathed a deep breath and exhaled as he gathered his composure.
It was this time last year that I came to WCF to mixed reactions. Sure I was standout high school and college wrestler, but this is a different animal. I struggled to adjust, but you all saw that, I felt it. But I didn’t quit, no I fought to do something about it, to make myself better, but then my life turned upside down. Three months were taken from me, my mind was taken from me, but I came back. What did I come back to? A fucking high school cock sucking fest. That’s right I came back to a bunch of narcissistic retards stroking each other off and telling each other how great they are.
Vincent paused a moment, shook his head, took a sip of water, and then continued.
For months I tried to fit in, tried to be the big swinging dick that people apparently want to see. Truth is that wasn’t me, not because I can’t be, but because I was broken. Now at this point you have to have figured out that isn’t the case anymore. You probably know what I do, that life hits you in the dick sometimes, and you have to get up. Well I have gotten back up, and I’m tired of the bullshit I see around me. I’m tired of fucking retards telling me how important this is, or that is. They covet bullshit like belts, and their win loss records. Little people scared that someone will come along and expose them for who they are. Well I am here, and I have no love for anyone in the WCF, no love for what they hold dear, for what they covet. See I covet something far greater, something tangible, I covet their sadness, their anger, their dreams shattered. I saw my mistakes even before I was fixed; Teo showed them to me, hell he exposed me to my own weakness. That was a mistake by Teo, but I will offer this one time only, THANK YOU.
Vincent paused again, took a sip of his drink and set it back down.
See for weeks I was focused on beating people, focused on becoming a champion. But that’s not me, it’s not who I have ever been. I want to hurt people, not just beat them. It’s one thing to beat a man, it’s another thing to take everything he ever wanted, to destroy his very being, and that is the man that I am. So while these clowns in the WCF focus on their titles, I’ll focus on taking their dreams, destroying their desires, and ruining their lives, and when I’m done they can thank me for opening their eyes to the weakness I have exposed.
Vincent took another sip of his water.
Let’s start with One. It has so many meanings for me. See it was the first Slam after One that I made my debut, a win over Alina Murphy and Matthew Black. Who? That’s the point it doesn’t matter. What matters is what I took from them, and that was nothing. They left the ring, their pride hurt, but not taken. And that has been my mistake for the last year. I didn’t take what I wanted, no I let people get away, let them off the hook. But that has changed, no longer will people get off the hook, no longer will I let people just walk away. I will take from them everything they hold dear.
Vincent closed his eyes, took a deep breath, grabbed his water, took a sip and continued.
So my first ONE comes around, and what do I find myself involved with? Jaice Wilds.
Vincent placed both elbows on his knees, leaned forward and placed his chin upon his interlaced fingers. For a long moment he stared at the camera, his eyes piercing the viewers on the other end. Finally he laughed threw his hands up and shook his head.
Let me read you something this fucking moron said. ‘Ya boi made his long-awaited return, as promised. And get thrown mid-tier talent as per management’s terrible booking policies.’ Let’s start at the top for this one. First off he clearly had someone else write the damn thing after the first two words. No educated man with half a brain would ever say Ya Boi spelled Y A BOI. Everything else in his post was spelled right, therefore telling me that someone else wrote everything after the first two words. But moving from that, the fact he thought anyone cared about his promise to return is laughable. No one gave a shit, at this moment no one gives a shit. See that is the problem with the WCF I talked about just a bit ago, he is so arrogant that he has to float his own ego, probably hoping some menial peon in the WCF will think he’s hot shit and come rub his dick in the shower. But this bitch, he’s going to get no love, except from the pillow he sleeps with, or Rosie and her five friends.
Vincent clears his throat, takes a sip of his water, and places it back on the floor next to him.
Now let’s move on from the first sentence and focus on the second. He clearly sees me as mid-level talent. Good for him, it will make it all feel so much better when I break him in the middle of the ring, his false bravado taken from him, exposed before the very fans he wants clamoring for his dick. Fact is the fans don’t give a shit about him, so I will do the fans a favor, I will take my mid-tier boot and stomp a high grade hole in his ass, one so big that Odin’s dick will fit in it without touching the walls. When I’m done he can tuck tail between his legs, or in his ass, either way doesn’t matter to me, he can suck his pride, and when he grows an actual pair of balls he can have a rematch, that way I can open the hole in his ass back up for the second time, and push him the fuck out of the WCF door. It doesn’t matter what you did in the past, what matters is what you are going to do, and your year Jaice is going to start with a whimper, the sound will come from your own mouth as I take from you the pride you so shamelessly toss around.
Vincent took another swig of his water.
So get your ideas together, put your shit together, prepare for what you think is an easy battle. Just know that respect for me is overdue, I’m not asking for it, I’m fucking taking it, so doubt me all you want, believe you are better than me, Let you self-esteem grow, because in the end I want you to actually believe you have a chance. Because you see there is nothing else for me in the world. I have one job, one thing I am good at, and at ONE I’m going to show the world what I am good at, while showing them that you don’t have what it takes to beat as you say, ‘mid-tier’ talent. So get ready Jaice, ONE is going to be a whole lot of damn fun.
Vincent grabbed his water, finished it off and tossed the bottle over his shoulder.
Looks like the shows about over. One is coming, and it’s going to be amazing. My new year starts with an ass stomping, make sure you tune in to watch. When Jaice is destroyed the stadium will go crazy, and everything will begin to add up. That’s right, everything will come together, the pieces will fall into place, and it will all add up to one damn thing. The entire WCF roster on notice, no one is safe, and I’m coming for all of them.
The image faded to black, and Billy sat back. He had seen Vincent before, never gave him a second though, but now he was transfixed by what he had just seen. Vincent was clearly not what he had ever expected. He smiled, him and his friends would have to find a way to see One. Turning off the TV he texted his friends and ran down the stairs, the planning had to start, and it had to start today, one was a week away.