Post by Seth on Sept 23, 2013 20:20:46 GMT -5
Prologue
Darkness diminishes as it reveals the scene in hiding because of the darkness. The sight of deep blue water can be seen as the reflections of the sun blinds the viewer, the beauty from the sun becoming alarming from the reflection. As the scene slowly migrates from the water towards the shore, the sight of tons and tons of sand appear upon the presence of the camera. The birds eye view also shows a small black figure standing upon the sand on the beautiful beach. Slowly the birds eye view becomes lower and lower in the atmosphere laminating the figure, allowing it to be recognized as a man in dark clothing.
As the view continues to become closer and closer to the beach, the man's details become less and less expressive. The man has no face, but instead a black mask covers his identity to the fullest leaving everyone to their imagination. His torso is covered in a dark black shadow like hoodie that is draping over his head and into his black and hidden face. Upon his legs are a set of dark blue denim jeans, the most colorful of his dark attire. And finally supporting the bottom of his feet are black work boots, the laces and all are a dark black. His stands facing the water, directing himself near the waves and rippling of the clear blue aqua.
The man's attention is fully towards the water and the clouds above it. No words come from his illusive mouth, but the way his head is tilted towards the sky says many unspoken words. The beach looks familiar, as if it should be in every citizen's memory, and should be filled with remembrance. As the camera migrates from the man's side to his face, miles of sand can be seen behind him, with green land above the horizon.
After a few moments of staring off into the sky, the man with the mask slowly walks towards the beach after turning away from the water. Quiet mur muring can be heard from his illusive mouth, slowly and calmly his voice turns from mur murs into a recognizable voice. Although his voice is slightly altered from the black mask upon his face, the words coming from his mouth is clearly understood and identified.
Masked Man: After months and months of proving my point, it is finally time for my cause to not only be complete, it is time for my cause to finally be given a face. This very beach has not only been a symbol of what I have stood for, it has become a big part of my cause, the cause that will eventually be proven to be for the better. I am finally being acknowledged, I am finally being remembered, and I am finally being appreciated. The WCF Universe has finally understood my purpose and that is to run out all these groups looking to make the WCF a better place. I have succeeded within the termination of Rebellion, Genesis, and Pantheon, but now there is a new group in which needs my full and undivided attention. Of course I speak of Bravado, the new stable that states they run this company.
In which case, they obviously do not, as the past couple of months have proven that. Over the past months I have begun to make the WCF a better place than it was before my existence. My actions have included interrupting none other than the owner Eric Price, and becoming a thorn within his side. If i may say so myself, a thorn that has been pushed deep into his body. Deeper and deeper I go inside his side, until I finally reach his heart, and at WAR, that indeed will be the case. Of course WAR is the biggest event in the history of WCF, if not the history of professional wrestling. WAR is one match that can reveal a new star within the sky of the company, end the career of a huge legend, or simply make or break an individuals will.
Man after man will enter the ring, hearing their music blazing upon the arena speakers as they walk to the battleground, none other than the four sided circle. Many will enter, but only one will be left standing on two feet inside victorious, cementing his flag of victory within the canvas. Every man with their own battle strategy, some bold, and some cowardly, but they all have the same ending. Winning not only the many battles against the many men they will face in that ring, but eventually becoming the World Champion and being the last man in that ring, with the destruction surrounding the bottom of their boots.
As the masked man continues to walk upon the beach, heading towards the small green patch upon the horizon of the beach.
Masked Man: If you haven't already figured out exactly why this beach looks so familiar, allow me to just end your suffering and incompetence. Upon this very sand, and upon that very water, on the morning of June 6th, hundreds of men rushed this landscape only to be met with bullets, which is exactly what I will be doing this week at WAR. After my identity is finally revealed, I will be rushing the beach called the WCF. Bullets will be flying past my body as I run down that entrance ramp, but once I finally reach the battlefield that is WAR, that is when the real battle begins.
Just like this specific event, it ended a exhausting and torturous WAR, and that is exactly what will happen on the night of WAR. Once I enter that ring, and cross those barbwire fences that are those green triple ropes of the four sided circle. To all of the contenders of the WAR match, all those men and women that will be in that ring once I enter the battlefield, I have two words of advise for all of you, move aside. No man, woman, or even human wants to be caught within the crossfire of my bullets, although everyone man, woman, and human that is, will be eliminated with no remorse.
You see I have seen the lies and actions of men and woman of destruction. In 1944, Germany was caught within the crossfires by following the Nazi party's actions to the fullest. Morbid and horrid actions was taken by the inhumane monsters that are the Nazi party, and Bravado, in my opinion, you are the Nazi party of professional wrestling. Any group of men and women that think they can get together to completely gain control of a company is not only idiotic, but also non-realistic. Just like in 1944, the Normandy Landings ended the WAR between these monsters and the men fighting to stop it. On the night of the 29th of September, history will relive once again. History will repeat itself, another Normandy Landings will arise from the ashes and end a horrid time within our history of this entire company. These horrid actions have been headlining too long. "Stable Wars", "Stable Wars Year 2", all of those headlines will be burned and forgotten upon the night of September 29th. WAR XII will be remember as the year history repeated itself, the day WCF experienced a Normandy Landings of their own caliber.
During the WCF Landings, it will not be thousands of men charging the beaches of the WCF, but only one. One man that has for months been changing the WCF for the better, but the corporate leaders and owners have yet to wrap their heads around the idea that I am actually a threat. They have been shrugging me off for months saying I am nothing but a man with a mask. If I am nothing but a man with a mask then, what do you call the destruction that occurred after Payback? Just a little miss-understanding? Well I saw it as something much more serious, something much more deadly, so deadly that thousands of dollars of WCF merchandise was destroyed, thousands of dollars of WCF equipment was also left needing serious repairs. Every man that walks in the back hallways think that I was the head, the brains of this riot that broke out, well they are all wrong. I had nothing to do with it, my hands were clean and rid of the destruction that took place on that very night of what use to be EPPW.
The masked man stops in his tracks and turns towards the camera with his face still hidden from the mask upon his face.
Masked Man: All of that destruction and mayhem was caused because of not my actions, but of the actions of others. Others being the men and women of Bravado, the individuals that believe WCF is their playground. That little incident that occurred within the 1st of September was only just a small example of change within this business. I am that change, and on WAR I will end this WAR that I have been preaching for months, yet everyone just seems to be ignoring the words coming out of my mouth like I am none other than Adam Young. In Bravado's dream world I maybe seen as an Adam Young, but in reality I am much more, I am the man that is going to force every since man and woman in the WCF Universe to forget about these jokes called the Stable Wars. The real war is coming, circle the date on your calendars ladies and gentlemen because on the 29th of September that war will be right at your front door!
He continues to walk as the camera stops in its tracks, shooting the back of his dark black hoodie. Slowly the masked man takes each step into the sand headed towards the green earthy soil that awaits his presence.
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A birds eye view of the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris France slowly approaches upon the horizon. The stone architecture glistening in the sunlight, as the rays reflect off the hundred year old stones and upon the water east of the monument. Each pier hand created and engraved by men of beautiful and magnificent skill. The top of the piers ending in sharp points, holding each corner of the ancient building from falling to the concrete base that sits beneath it. Gargoyles sitting upon the top of the structure in majesty and grace, looking out upon the busy streets of Paris.
Rotating around the building showing all angles and views of this magnificent and hundred year old building that still stands to this day. The windows made of fine glass, covered in only the best of artists paints. As the cathedral is being shown with such a grace, there seems to be a small problem upon the top of the building. Beside one of the carved gargoyles there stands a man, in nothing but black. His common sense is questioned because of the temperature of the daylight, one must admit that one must be a fool to wear all black on a hot summer day. He stands besides the gargoyle looking down upon the people of France, his facial expressions and details are still unseen to the human eye.
The camera finally decides to focus in on the man, his right arm now leaning upon the hundred year old stone gargoyle standing looking down upon the city. After several seconds of zooming the man then kneels besides the gargoyle, like he was posing for the camera, expecting to be filmed or photographed. Forearms on knees, and hands on shins, he kneels, still with his down angled neck, facing all the people below him. Some paying no attention to the historic structure, while others are struck in ahh of the magnificent art and time put into building a structure so beautiful out of simple stone.
Finally the camera reaches upon the face of the man, his face covered in a dark black mask, and covered in a black hoodie. As he kneels upon the people he seems to be saying more than few words, his mask flexing and relaxing from the individual's mouth moving.
Masked Man: Here I kneel on the oldest building in all of France, a building of such grace and beauty. It takes people's breath away day after day. People for near and far come to see such a beautiful thing for themselves. This building is a prime example that no matter how out of date a iconic image is, it will always live on forever. This building has been standing for hundreds of years, and has yet fallen upon itself. It has showed heart and determination, frowning upon the people that care to think about changing any of that. This building and I are one in the same, we both frown upon the people that want to change the world for the worst. Such beautiful craftsmanship should not be looked down upon, no matter how old or forgotten it is. It doesn't matter if we are talking about architecture or professional wrestling, the world should be changed for the better, not the worse, and now it is time to change that.
The masked man stands up upon the gargoyles and stands besides it, tilting his head up towards the sky, his eyes facing directly upon the clouds in front of him. His attention immediately changing from the people towards the nature of the world.
Masked Man: I stand upon the top of one of the most historical buildings, the Notre Dame Cathedral. This beautiful piece of art is located in none other than Paris, France one territory of France over from the historical Normandy beaches. Here I stand upon my thrown, looking down upon everyone, much like I will do upon the night of September 29th. This magnificent building is not only a landmark, but a reminder of how great the past was. Look at all this art work that surrounds me, the beautiful glass painted windows, the stone carved gargoyles, and amazingly carved stone blocks that make up this structure.
This building and myself are one within the same, we are reminders of what the past was. Two years ago there was no Stable Wars, there was no one group fighting for power with another, there was simply an owner, and the face of the company the World Champion. People were determined to become the World Champion, putting in all their efforts to just hold that championship over their shoulder, but since the Stable Wars, they are fighting to become the most controlling superstar within the entire company. The most important thing about this company has been pushed to the back burner, and now it is time for me to come in and change that.
Months go on and on, I go on, and this building still stands. We will forever be cemented within our foundation, and the only thing that I have known is professional wrestling. Watching at home, watching every competitor wrestle for not a title, but for a spot upon their respected stable. It has been long enough of watching, and now it is time to act. It is time for me to end this War that has been going on for months. I have slowly been sniping off the unworthy, the men that has changed this company for the worst, within their minds it was for the best, but everyone including the fans known that it is time for the Stable Wars to be over. When I even make my presence known upon the arena, the place erupts with cheers. I am a masked vigilantly, it isn't who is behind the mask, it is what I stand for. Years go by and this building remains standing, showing exactly what it stands for, the hard times of our ancestors. Well I stand for my own purpose, and at the end of the night of September the 29th, I will still be standing upon my foundation. My feet will still be under me, and I will finally become the World Champi...
The sound of the cathedral's roof door closing stops the masked man, sending him into dead silence. Upon the top of the roof is now a French security guard, he slowly walks towards the masked man. His hand to his right hip, his holster un-buttoned revealing the gun upon his belt.
French Security Guard: Que faites-vous ici? (What are you doing here?)
The masked man immediately gets a worried though within his head, throwing his hands in the air, not knowing what the man said because he doesn't speak a word of French. He quietly and calmly responds with English.
Masked Man: I'm sorry sir, I thought this was part of the tour.
The French Security then slowly draws the gun back to his hip, standing straighter and not in a fire ready position. He speaks back in rough English, the masked man is glad that he can finally some what understand the man.
French Security Guard: Ahh, you are tourist. I am sorry sir, this is not part of the tour. Why you wearing that mask?
A sigh of relief comes from the masked man as he replies to the Frenchman.
Masked Man: I have just had surgery, I was very badly burned.
French Security Guard: Ohh, well I sorry to hear that sir. Please come down off the roof with rest of guests.
Masked Man: Of course.
The masked man walks towards the security guard before stopping in front of him. He then looks at the security guard before speaking a few words quietly from his covered mouth.
Masked Man: May I stay longer, I don't know how much longer I will be able to enjoy this view.
The security guard looks around for a second in confusion. He then thinks for quite some time, thinking good and hard about the situation at hand. The security guard then finally replies to the masked man.
French Security Guard: For small amount of time. I will be back soon.
The security guard exits the roof of the cathedral and leaves the masked man to his own self. The masked man then walks back towards the gargoyles, and continues to look down upon the people that walk below him once again.
Masked Man: These very people that walk and stand below me are the same people that are finally seeing the light they are finally understanding my purpose. A fraction of these people have finally figured out that it is time for a better era. It is time for the era of the Stable Wars to end, and the clock has struck zero. For almost two entire years the Stable Wars have been main eventing PPVs and has been in control of WCF. The entire time it has been right in front of these people's noses, yet they didn't even seem to want to see past it. They have forgotten what it is like to watch individuals who actually care for their jobs wrestle. To these current superstars it is just a paycheck, and a perk is the fame and fortune that comes with it. Wrestling use to be a craft, it use to be loved by everyone that stepped within the ropes of the four sided circle, but now the reputation of professional wrestling has been tarnished. The WCF has been chipped to its very core, and I am the only thing that can allow it to become whole again. Although these people have to see past what has happened the past two years, and on September 29th, the past two years will be forgotten.
These people are also no different then the men and women that will be entering the same ring that I will on that very same night. The comparison between the rest of the roster and those same people are that they have foolishly chosen to ignore what has happened right in front of them. For the past couple of months I have been making examples, I have been making examples of the so called leaders of the WCF, showing everyone their true colors, but everyone seems to look the other way. Those same people that look the other way, the ones that think I am simply a dream, will be rudely awakened. They will be the casualties of this War, but unlike the casualties of the Normandy Landings, they will not be remembered. They will be forgotten, and they will be pushed aside because they did not see what was coming to their front door. I have fired my warning shots, and they seem to not flinch, well at WAR XII I unleash my arsenal.
The masked man kneels down in front of the gargoyle again, with his eyes still set upon the people down below. The clock upon the cathedral continues to move as the minute hand slowly prepares itself to reach the twelve.
Masked Man: When I reach the ring there standing in my way will be the last hand full of competitors in the War. Some with ammunition to spare, and some just fending their way along by hand. No matter if they are fresh into the battle, or have been fighting for a while they are still enemies within my eyes. On the night of September 29th, the WCF will begin its own War, and the one that started it will be the one to end it. I am not fighting for the World Championship, I am not fighting for myself, I am fighting to end this charade that they call the Stable Wars. It is time that wrestling is brought back to the top and is no longer seen as a mere joke!
Talented superstars will step foot in the matted battleground, but they all will be fighting for either the World Championship, or their personal gain. I fight for a cause and that cause will push me to not only further challenge myself to stay and fight, but it will drive me to eventually become the last man standing. When the smoke will clear, I will be left standing alone upon the rubble and destruction. My boots will be covered from heel to toe of blood, sweat and tears, exactly what it takes to win a match of such a caliber.
Sarah Twilight, Eric Price, Jeff Purse, Steve Orbit, Logan, all wrestlers that have been at the top. All men that are looking to be favored to win a match at this caliber. Once again I am over looked. Which I am personally fine with, as long as at the end of the match they look up at me in that ring and understand that the Stable Wars is over. It doesn't matter who wields that mask, it is the cause that is behind it. Everyone will be at each other throats, looking for that little bit of an edge over the other man. They will be looking to throw anyone over those ropes that they can. There will be openings to fire and eliminate their opponents sending them down to the ground motionless, but it matters how you take those chances and make the most out of them. Will you be the one that goes out with a trigger finger, eliminating as many as you can before your ammunition is run dry? Or will you be the silent sniper, slowly looking for your opening to eliminate the others, but find yourself defenseless against a full out blitz?
The clock slowly grows closer to noon as the masked man stands up and moves to another corner of the cathedral. Standing in front of the clock looking at the top of it, then looking back forward towards the sky.
Masked Man: The clock is ticking. Will you be a ticking time bomb? Just waiting for your time to explode and put yourself out there, hoping to not to be backstabbed? Or will you be the grenade, exploding as soon as you enter the ring, hoping to take out as many opponents as possible within your time being? No matter what your plan is going into a match of this quality and quantity, the only truth is that there will only be one man still standing when the smoke clears, when all the bullets are done flying, only one person will be left standing. Standing upon their turnbuckle podium and their medal of honor around their waist.
The clock upon the cathedral strikes noon, as the bells within the cathedral go off sending out a long and loud ringing around the structure. The masked man moves towards the roof door and locks it from the roof.
Masked Man: You see, while everyone is dreaming of becoming the World Champion and worrying about their competitors, I am here preparing my army. I am loading my guns, sending out commands, just waiting till the night that I send my army to victory. Waiting to charge the beaches of the WCF, awaiting for the right time to catch everyone by surprise. I am not just a man of history, but I am a man of my word. Upon the night of War XII, I will be ready, gun in hand, and ready to fight for my cause. Wars are not won by strategies or numbers, Wars are won by soldiers. Out of every soldier that enters that battlefield I am the one with the most heart and determination.
Everyone else that enters that ring will be worried about becoming a champion and getting gold around their waist, while I am fighting for the cause to make this business better. I have seen the horrid actions of the dictators that have taken control of the WCF for the past two years, during this Stable Wars era, and it is time for these horrid actions to be stopped. It is time for people to be counted responsible for their actions, and consequences must be handed out, whether honorably or by force. Those consequences comes from a man in a black mask and hoodie, although beneath the surface there is much more than a man. There is a cause, a cause that will become truth within the hands of that man. I can confirm to everyone entering that battlefield that I am no child that loves playing dress up, I am a soldier and I am the man that will be winning XII. I am the man that will finally put an end to the reign of the Stable Wars, and I am the man that on the night of September 29th, at XII, will become your new WCF World Champion!
Bullets will fly through the air, dust will be lifted, and bodies will hit the mat. The clock is ticking everyone, that much is obvious, but when will it be time for your time in that ring to hit zero?
The masked man reaches down and grabs a black backpack and puts it around his shoulders. The sound of the French security guard can be heard yelling behind the locked door. He attempts to slam the door with his hand. He can be heard yelling out to the rest of security.
French Security Guard: Dépêchez-vous! Obtenez la clé! (Hurry! Get the key!)
The masked man then jumps from the top of the cathedral, headed towards the ground below him. A parachute shoots out from his backpack as he lands safely upon the ground. He then drops the parachute and continues running away from the historical Notre Dame Cathedral. The crowd goes in a frenzy, frightened because of the man wearing the black mask.
