Post by Michael X on Jan 5, 2019 5:27:38 GMT -5
THE BOOK OF EXTREME
One. More. Day.
It had been quite some time since Michael X had stepped into a WCF ring. An injury suffered at the hands of the #FALSEGOD, Odin Balfore at Revenge. The biggest loss in the history of X’s career. A defeat that has haunted his mind each and every day that he has been stuck unable to compete due to doctor’s orders.
But, health has returned. Injuries, of the physical form, have been healed.
Michael grows more anxious as each passing day goes by. HE must return to that ring and show everyone that it’s his ring. That he is the standard that the entire wrestling world should be measured by. That he is the greatest wrestler that the world has ever seen. It doesn’t matter who he steps into that ring with. It doesn’t matter what company he sets foot in. Be it WCF, AW, hell, he’d wrestle anywhere in the world as long as the competition was worth it.
And, stiff competition awaits at ONE. The biggest stage of them all, the show that everyone waits for all year long. The show that must go on The show that Michael X SHOULD be main eventing as the current WORLD CHAMPION. A show that Michael X will one day headline.
This year started out hot and slipped away from the Dark Prophet, but now that he has returned with nothing on his mind besides pure annihilation, and the destruction of anyone that steps in his path, 2019 is his year. 2019 is the year of DARKNESS, and as ONE approaches, all eyes will again shift towards Michael X. All eyes will shift towards X because he deserves it.
Michael X and Stephen Singh are standing in the parking lot outside of WCF headquarters. Things are tense. Michael had not spoken to Stephen Singh since Revenge. After getting injured, Michael disappeared. There was nothing that he could do in that state and he didn’t want to deal with it. He didn’t want to let anyone else down as much as he had let himself down.
Stephen Singh didn’t care. He shoved Michael X back into a van parked in the lot.
Singh: You can’t fucking answer a phone call?
Michael dropped his head in shame. Maybe this wasn’t the best way to return. Maybe a meeting in the office of Corey Black wasn’t the best way to get The Church back together. Michael could have easily picked up the phone and called Stephen Singh first. But, he didn’t know this was the match that Black had in mind. He didn’t know he was going to walk in on a meeting with Stephen Singh and Corey Black. He was just a pawn but he couldn’t let that be known. All of this was running through Michael’s head all at once.
Singh: Don’t ignore me, Michael. You don’t just walk out on the Church. You don’t fucking give up, that isn’t you.
Michael takes a deep breath, adrenaline building up inside of his chest. He can take on the entire world right now, but it is the Golden God that is giving him that energy. It is the Golden God that is guiding him in that direction. It is Stephen Singh that is responsible for the growth and power of the darkness that grows inside of him.
Michael X: I’m sorry.
Every bit of energy that Michael had just built up was needed for that apology. Michael doesn’t apologize for anything. He doesn’t make excuses for anything. He doesn’t show weakness. He is bigger than that.
Stephen Singh looks at Michael with disgust in his eyes. There is a underlying feel of betrayal, but that must be put aside as The Church is back together. The Church is set to rise again, and there is nothing that can be done to defeat that power. They are the most dominant force in tag team wrestling in the entire world. Their power word is VICTORY.
Had Ultimate Showdown not happened, they would still be in possession of the WCF Tag Team Championships. There is no doubt in anyone’s minds. They are the definition of tag team wrestling. But yet, here they are, in a tense stare down in a parking lot. Here they are, having not spoken to each other in months, not really sure what to think.
Have things changed? Are they still on the same page? It was Stephen Singh that Michael X had to defeat in order to become the World Champion. It was Stephen Singh who would hold the Hardcore Championship after Michael X only for X to be crowned HARDCORE CHAMPION OF THE YEAR. Was there resentment between the two?
Michael didn’t know.
But, he was back. He had been cleared to compete and that was the only thing he knew how to do. WCF was calling him, it was all he could think about. Day in and day out, he needed to return. He needed to show the world that he was the greatest competitor in WCF history.
Sure, Singh had called. Sure, he had left voicemails. Michael could have answered. He could have told Singh that he was hurt, that he couldn’t step into that ring. That he wasn’t man enough to fight through the injuries. That he was a coward. That he couldn’t step up to the expectations that Singh had set up for him.
Who would that benefit?
Michael X: I’m here now. I’m back, and we have a match that I know that we can win.
Singh looks at Michael, he nods his head in agreement.
Singh: Don't run out on me again, Michael. You and I can easily take whatever we want from this company but for that to happen you need to BE HERE.
Stephen pauses, looks directly in his former and future partner's eyes, and smiles.
Singh: And Michael...My Dark Prophet...so long as you are, we're going to take whatever want from The entire damn World.
A smile comes across Michael’s face, he reaches his hand out to Singh for them to shake on it and seal the team back together, but Singh comes in with a hug. The two of them walk away from each other, Singh approaching his car and Michael walking to the black van parked all the way in the back of the parking lot. Freakshow is standing outside the driver’s side door waiting for any sign of real trouble. Vidalia, sitting in the back seat reading a book is unaware of the situation that had just occurred.
She is still under the thought process that Michael does not need Stephen Singh, that he only holds him back. Only the future knows.
Michael sat in front of a WCF camera crew, it was his first WCF filmed promo since Revenge. The lights were shining hot against his skin as sweat trickled down the side of his face. He looked into the camera with confidence, he was a former WCF World Champion. He had climbed to the top of the mountain and conquered it before he himself was conquered.
There were two men that stood before him, two men that stood before the Church.
Michael X: The Archbishop of Banterbury, huh? A name I’ve heard bouncing around for the past few months over there where the little boys play. A name that has brought little to no thought, concern, nor fear.
Well, what is there to fear? An inferior talentless fuck who spent his days winning meaningless matches over at the little brother? Nah. Not even a threat. I mean, look at yourself, mate.
Michael smirks as he mocks the man from Brixton.
Michael X: You’re nothing without Power Word: Kill, but yet there you are begging for someone in WCF to notice you. Begging to get into a match at the biggest event in all of professional wrestling.
Begging your way in through the back door at a chance to steal my tag team championships off the current champs.
Michael rolls his eyes.
Michael X: We both know they’re not up to the right talent level to carry those belts, but that’s why you wanted that match. That’s why you wanted so badly to weasel into that match. You’ve found the backdoor into tag team championship matches before, but this isn’t AW. You have to earn that spot here. But, you kept knocking, right?
And, look where it got you, Reese. Look at whose doorstep you have found yourself knocking at?
The Gates of the CHURCH were left open and you stumbled in. You fucked up, Reese, and now you must pay the ultimate toll. Now you must step into the ring with the Tag Team Champions of the year, The CHURCH or SINGH.
Michael laughs. Each syllable that rolls off his tongue comes out with more and more confidence. He had forgot how much he loved this business. He had forgot how much he loved talking shit on those he was about to dismantle in front of a sold out crowd.
And to do so at One? Michael sat home for months not sure if and when he would be able to return after the injuries sustained at the hands of Odin Balfore and now he was in one of the biggest matches on the card. Now he was in the biggest bragging rights match that professional wrestling has seen in years.
Michael X: Reece, that's the difference between me and you. You NEED a tag team partner to be any kind of success. You need that outside interference to win matches. You need that insurance plan on the apron to tag in and out of the ring with. You NEED a partner.
I can step into that ring with anyone on this roster and walk out victorious. You get dropped by the likes of Sam Kidsgrove, Lincoln Kuechly, Brooke Bell, and whatever other out of shape reject the AW roster can throw at you. I think you lost about a hundred matches in a row there at one point, but it’s okay, right? You’ll come to the WCF ring and call out whoever you feel like because somehow you’re entitled to a shot at my Tag Team Championship.
Michael cracks a smile. He’s having more fun than he’s had in a while and he cannot wait to get into that ring and slap the smile off Reece Shaw’s stupid face. He cannot wait to step into that ring and kick his teeth straight down his throat. This isn’t fun and games. This isn’t some exhibition match, this is the return of the fucking Dark Prophet. This is Michael X’s first match in months and he’s not leaving that ring in humiliation. He’s not leaving that ring without the blood and respect of those that he leaves to rot in the middle of the ring.
Reese Shaw won’t be the first, he won’t be the last, he’ll be just another victim in the long line of foes that have stepped in Michael’s way.
Vidalia: Michael, we have to talk.
Her words hit Michael harder than anyone has ever been able to hurt him. It wasn’t how she said it, there wasn’t any kind of malice in her tone. It was just the thought, the overwhelming fear, of what she needed to talk about. Deep down, Michael already knew what this was going to be about. Deep down he could feel it, the DARKNESS was festering, and she knew that he knew.
Why won’t he just approach me? She had been thinking all day, all night, all week. She wasn’t a hard book to read, not for him. He could always see right through everything, see right through to her deepest thoughts. He knew everything there was to know, he knew what she was thinking, how she felt, even what she craved. Right now, she was craving a grilled chicken salad.
So, why couldn’t he see the problem? Why couldn’t he sense her frustration? Her anger?
Michael took a deep breath.
Michael X: Yeah?
It was Stephen Singh and the Church of Singh. Vidalia didn’t like it. She thought, rather, she knew, that Michael was better than that. That the Church was keeping him back, pigeonholing him into tag matches and meaningless matches to please the masses that loved teams.
But, Michael enjoyed it. It was a breath of fresh air after his days in the DARK RIDERS GANG. Little did he know it back then, but he was the star of that group. Thomas Uriel Bates? Gemini Battle? Deuce Murdock? Spencer Adams? The Other Guy? Jesus Christ, Ol’ X was just lost in the shuffle but he still found a way to shine and now all these years later? He’s not the hidden gem at the bottom of the depths of the team, he’s right there in the forefront. He’s right there, next to Singh.
Vidalia: You’re better than that Michael. You’re better than you think you are.
Which was a surprising statement given the fact that Michael X believes himself to be the greatest competitor in WCF history.
Michael X: I am the fucking greatest.
Vidalia: Than why are you going to be his lackey again? Why are you going to do his bidding?
Michael sighed. It wasn’t that he was doing anyone’s dirty work. There was something bigger here, something bigger than anything that the WCF Galaxy has ever seen before. The Church was more than wrestling, it was a way of life.
Michael X: It’s not like that, Vi. I promise.
She took a deep breath. She hoped that he was telling the truth, but she wanted him to be at the top of the WCF all by himself. No strings attached, just Michael X sitting upon the throne.
Michael X: Felix, my boy.
Michael laughed. He was in a dimly lit basement somewhere in the mountains. Having lived and vacationed in and around upstate New York and Pennsylvania as a child and a teenager, he was fairly familiar with the area. Where he was, was quiet. There wasn't another living soul for miles, perhaps a few animals but who was counting them?
Michael was in his element, though. He felt comfortable. Vidalia was upstairs, sipping coffee from a thermos. This wasn't there house, they had broke into someone's vacation home and had spent the last few nights together. There was no better thrill than fucking Vidalia in someone else's bed, in someone else's house. The way she moaned sent shivers down Michael's spine.
But, they did their best not to use any electricity. To make sure that there was nothing that was going to alert anyone to their location. Freakshow had boarded a flight to Nevada, for reasons unknown to Vidalia. Something special for the big mother fucker, Michael had whispered in her ear when she inquired..
But that wasn't important, Michael was looking into a portable camera that he had stolen from a previous house. He was smiling, he has a message for Felix Stapleton, Jr.
Michael X: I hope you're ready for what Reece has gotten you into. I know you’re the quote unquote wrestler of the two of you, but this isn’t AW and you’re not stepping into that ring with rejects like #FightSmart, and the rest of the roster. There’s a reason those guys over there left and it had nothing to do with anything besides the fact that they can’t hang.
They looked at the big picture and they couldn’t imagine having to deal with the top talent that the wrestling world has ever seen, so they tucked their tails and ran. But you two? This is the opposite. You’re leaving that dump to step into shark infested waters..
You’re leaving that dump, as losers. But, you’re here now. You’re here where you don’t belong. You ran your mouths, talked a big game, and got drawn the worst hand that could ever be dealt. But you’re from Nevada, gambling is the life out there, right? So here you are in the biggest gamble of your career.
Lay your cards down, Felix.
You might be one half of the AW Tag Team of the Year, but you’re stepping into that ring with the REAL Tag Team of the Year. The Church of Singh, we’ve stepped into that ring with every tag team that we were allowed to. They all got put down. They all got what they deserved.
And now Felix Stapleton, Jr, enters the arena. For the same result, as the others before him. The Church will stand tall over everyone.
Michael X: I’m not coming back to lose in my first match, kid. The moment I step through that curtain, a blanket of darkness will fall over everything and you will not be able to defeat it. You will not be able to defeat me. You will not be able to defeat THE CHURCH.
You think you have what it takes to beat me? You think that you’re talented enough to step into that ring with me and put me down? You can’t even get Heather to pick up her phone. You don’t have what it takes to even keep your life in order, Felix. You’re not even man enough to keep her happy, but you think you’re man enough to step into that ring and stand toe to toe with the fucking KING of DARKNESS? You think you have what it takes to climb to my level and stay there?
Step onto my level, Felix, and you’ll be introduced to a LONG fall to the bottom, because that’s where you belong. You were gifted this fucking match. You were gifted a spot on the biggest card of the year against the TRUE WCF Wrestler of the Year. You don’t deserve to be here. You don’t deserve a spot on this card because you put in absolutely NO work to deserve this, but I’m not going to turn down a easy win. I’m not going to turn down a free payday for slapping around some little bitch from Action Wrestling.
You’re a fucking warm-up match, Felix.
How does that make you feel? You’re just a body for me to use to shake off the ring rust and get back out there and take back each and every championship that this company has to offer. And you? You’ll go back to hiding, just like you went into after you lost your last AW match and ran away.
Michael laughs. Though, many could say that he ran away after his last loss. He didn’t run though, he was injured. It’s different.
Michael X: Last year, I was defeated at ONE by Teo Del Sol. And I went on to have one of the most dominating years the wrestling world has ever seen. This year, I start my world dominance off with a victory. I set the pace as I go and slap around the tag team of the year over in AW and go on to become the fucking wrestler of the year.
Felix, your days here are numbered. One. One match. One Loss. You don’t go further than that.
Michael smiled as Vidalia walked into the room. A few moments passed and he hit the STOP button on the camcorder and placed it down.
Somewhere in Nevada, Freakshow was driving a rented black 2015 Dodge Grand Caravan. His eyes were keeping a close watch on a girl as he followed her block after block, turn after turn, making sure to stay just far enough behind that he wouldn’t be noticed, but not too far behind that he could lose his prey.
He didn’t know who he was looking for, or even what she looked like. The days of stalking his prey had been far behind him, a lifestyle that went almost out the window once the WCF paydays went up. The monster’s past was hard to hide from, but he was into finer things now. Rape, murder, torture, kidnap, were too brutal for him now. He could still willingly participate in any of those activities, but it wasn’t something he NEEDED to do anymore.
This may sound a little crazy, but Freakshow was more than a little crazy. He was a god damn psychopath who still liked to see people get hurt. Now a days, though, it was usually inside the confines of a WCF ring and the pain was being inflicted by Michael X. Sure, Freakshow had entered the squared circle before, a tag team match with Michael where they defeated Bernard Core and Wolf, but that wasn’t his true calling. He knew his place was outside of that ring to protect Michael X from uncertainty, the same that Michael X had done for him.
Michael and Vidalia took care of the big man even though they didn’t have to. He was part of their fucked up family and there was no reason to change it.
That’s why he was here, chasing down a girl for Mikey, chasing down the mythical HEATHER for Felix Stapleton, Jr. What better way to get the guy to stop whining and crying about a bitch not picking up his phone calls or answering his texts, or responding to his drunken outbursts of tweets, than to go get her and deliver her with a bow?
There would be no rape, murder, torture, or any of the such in this case. Perhaps a kidnapping? But that was just the way to a means, she had to come back to Pennsylvania, right? But what if she really fought it? What would freakshow do? I’ll fucking drug the dumb bitch, he thought to himself almost instantly as he pulled the caravan into the parking lot of some sleazy strip club.
A neon dancer adorns the sign.
A neon dancer adorns the sign.
What did Heather even look like? Freakshow didn’t even know. This was turning into Mission: Impossible. However, he was determined to find her for Michael, and it had nothing to do with the lap dances that he was getting for research.
Freakshow killed the engine, swung open the driver’s side door and stepped out of the minivan as the scene faded to black.
Michael was sitting by himself at a back booth in some dive bar, Vidalia was at the bar asking for another round of drinks before heading towards the bathroom when Michael’s phone rang.
Michael X: You got good news?
Michael’s eyes widened, there was a mixture of anger and disgust.
Michael X: It says your name on the phone when you’re calling..
Michael rolled his eyes. Freakshow began to give him the bad news. He was having no luck at all on his search for Heather.
Michael X: I have no idea what she looks like either, man. Her name is Heather, though. Not sure if she has a stage name, probably should have thought this through a little better, huh?
Freakshow groaned into the phone, he needed to give up, he had a flight booked for the morning to get back in time for ONE. He was going to be on the plane, he had already dropped the rental off at the agency.
The two talked it through and called off the search, just as Vidalia was returning to the table.
Vidalia: Why do we need Heather, again?
Michael shrugged, he wasn’t even sure really.
Michael X: It’s a good will gesture, alright? I come into ONE, utterly destroy the two of these fucks, and humiliate them in front of the world, right? Well, I’m not a bad guy, I don’t want them to kill themselves. So, while he’s laying their in a puddle of blood, we pull her out from the back, there’s tears, they probably hug each other.
Vidalia: What if she’s as repulsed by him as I am?
Michael X: Well, you have to figure that she’ll see him as a familiar face, right? After being dragged across the entire country by a giant mother fucker, fearing for every second that your life is over, she’ll at least be comfortable with him.
Vidalia: Not the best plan you’ve come up with, Mikey.
He shrugs and a waitress comes to the table with 6 shots of whiskey, a jack and coke, and a margarita. She places the drinks of the table and Michael instantly takes a shot.
Vidalia: Thank you, don’t stray too far.
The waitresses eyes widen, she’s already served them so much alcohol that she didn’t think they could still be standing, let alone talking as though they were ready for more. But, they were tipsy, they could both feel it, it just wasn’t visible.
Vidalia: So, what now?
Michael X: Humiliation. That’s all I’ve got left. We just go out there, slap them around a little bit, and end the match. End their time here in WCF, and go home.
Vidalia: That’s it?
Michael X: Yeah. Maybe they can crawl back to AW after that, but honestly, they’re losers there too. What’s the point? Maybe go find some struggling federation on the indies to wrestle for, I’m sure there are some washed up has beens and never weres are taking on the young kids somewhere out there. They can pick up some easy wins, get paid, and sail away into the sun never to be seen again, if we’re all lucky.
A smirk comes across Michael’s face and he slams back another shot. Vidalia sips from her margarita.
Michael X: You think it matters what happens to Reece and Felix? I don’t care, I was just trying to make a nice gesture to them to give them a parting gift in all of this. But, whatever.
They can still take the ass whooping of a lifetime, Vi. There will be X’s marked all around that ring, BAM! Bam! BAM!! BAMMM! Heads are going to roll, or fly, or whatever.
Those two idiots won’t even know what hit them.
Reece can go back to school or whatever the fuck he likes, because, after this match, his fluke of a career comes crashing down around him and he can go step into the business world, do something that’s more suited for the clothes that he’s wearing around. He’s the type of guy that lucks into situations, or talks his way into places that he doesn’t belong. He’s the type of guy that wins matches by accident, but he’s not fighting some AW scrub, he’s stepping into that ring with two former WCF World Champions, the greatest tag team that professional wrestling has ever seen. We don’t make mistakes.
Michael slams back another shot.
Michael X: We won’t be making any mistakes in this match. We will never make a mistake for as long as the two of us are able to compete inside of that ring.
Vidalia: I think it’s ridiculous that he was trying to get themselves a tag team championship match.
Michael X: Those are my fucking belts, Vi. If anyone is going to get a crack at them out of nowhere, it’s me. But, I got the easy win at One, I was given this match and I accepted it because I wanted a warm up match. This is just One More Day for me, one more fucking match, one more fucking win.
This is brand fucking new to them. They've never been here, in a match of this much importance. I don't give a flying fuck about their tag team championship run over in AW, this is what matters. This is all that matters. Stepping into my ring, I am all that matters. This is only One More Day for me.
There was also the fact that it brought attention to Michael and not so much in his losing of the World Championship at Revenge. It was a way for Michael to get his feet wet and step into that ring in a win/win situation.
One, he got to return to action with a familiar face in Stephen Singh. Two, he could return with a win in a match that wasn’t at the top of the card.
Well, that all hinged on Michael X and Stephen Singh winning the damn match, but Ol’ X was fairly confident that he was capable to delivering that win to Stephen Singh. He was fairly confident that he could put The Church’s name in good light, to return to the top of the mountain where they had stood coming into and exiting Ultimate Showdown.
They just had to beat two chumps from Action Wrestling. Two losers who ran out on AW when they lost the big one. Two clowns that tried to lay claim of being the tag team of the year.
They had to defeat two men who knew deep down that they had already been defeated the moment that the card was put into print. The moment that they read those names across from their own, and felt their hearts sink deep into the pits of their stomachs. They felt fear, and Michael X could sense that fear. That’s why they’ve been quiet. Not a single peep since getting their match at One. Not a single peep, a threat, a pun, nothing.
Because, that’s what they are:
Michael slams back the remaining shots, and takes a gulp of his jack and coke. Vidalia looks at him with a smile, the liquor is finally getting to them. The scene fades.