Post by Vengeance on Mar 2, 2014 7:53:38 GMT -5
It was forever and a day ago that the dark era ran wrestling.
Sometimes it was a feeling that felt almost literal; although it was more just that so much had happened since. In short, the world and the people within it had changed so much. Vengeance knew this fact more than most. He knew it so much so, that if he was to be presently asked about this day, it would take hours upon hours of scouring the distant annals of his bank for this particular memory.
And once he found it, even he would have scarcely recognized himself…
Monday, February 18th, 2000 – Boston, Massachusetts…
The curtain twitched, and then flew back completely as he leapt through it. A then trademark and ever-present smile stretched across his then much more youthful face. His hair was shorter than probably anybody has ever seen, close cropped and gelled into a spiked style. Over his shoulder, the vision of the crowd could be seen—it was nowhere near as big as those he would come to know, love and then revile over in WFW, but it was the biggest he had hitherto performed competed before. The sounds of the roars and the cheers filled his ears and in turn his mind, prompting the smile to spread farther still. The lights, the action, the entire atmosphere of it felt as though it had enveloped him; it was electricity in his veins and he was embracing every sparking fragment of the sensation.
It was the single greatest moment of his life.
‘Well, that was a fucking disaster!’
The words startled him as he pushed open the door, his body jolting as he turned his head back up and was confronted by the opposed image of his Head trainer, Johnny. Vengeance halted and remained fixed in the doorway, as the man marched over with the authoritative pace of a drill sergeant. Looming in similar fashion, he was an imposing figure, belying the steadily greying hairs and signs of aging that visibly adorned his face.
‘And you can drop the smile!’ He commanded down from the good five or six inches that separated their heights.
In the moment, Vengeance had forgotten he was even wearing one. He did as instructed, though not to anything below a casual smirk, as he watched the other man march back again the way he came.
‘What are you talking about?’ Vengeance finally spoke up, returning to the original question, as he stepped firmly into the room.
He pushed the door closed behind him with a swift backwards kick. His trainer answered with a silent gesture of his thumb towards the monitor in the corner of the room. The smile went back up a notch as he saw it was showing delayed footage of his match from moments ago. He was currently locked in a battle of strength as both he and his opponent struggled to drag themselves up their respective sides of the ladder. He fell away just as quickly as the other man turned back around.
‘It went great!’ Vengeance added.
He truly felt it, the joyous and proud feeling not only refusing to dissipate but actually increasing as he relieved the moment from this fresh perspective. He had just reached the top of the ladder, and was reaching for the championship belt as his opponent finally made it up and joined him. His name was CKS. They immediately began trading obligatory and exhausted single punches, taking it in turns to try and knock the other from atop.
‘It went perfect!’ Vengeance corrected through the ever-present smirk.
His fist clenched in celebration and punched faintly at the air in recollection as CKS finally slipped a rung and with a final shot to the temple, he sailed from his side and crashed like a proverbial sack of potatoes to the canvas. A shadow trailed forward over Vengeance, cast by the single bulb swinging from the ceiling of an admittedly little locker-room.
‘You call that perfect?’ Johnny asked, his shadow extending its reach over the footage and the memory.
Vengeance turned his head slightly and glanced up at him. ‘Yeah, what would you call it?’
‘Falling from a ladder!’ He snapped, dramatically turning away again. ‘I’d also call it defeat!’
Vengeance turned back to the monitor as the clang of locker doors, the unfastening of bags and the ruffling of belongings being packed away threatened to eclipse the sound of the action. He could see no remote in sight in order to amend the situation, and turned in time to witness the fall his trainer was speaking of was his own descent from the ladder. He flew straight down from the top amid recalled gasps from the on-looking audience, crashing with even more force than his opponent had previously. It was at that very person that he had been aiming his own falling body. The title had been right there, in his grasp….but he had caught sight of CKS, prone and motionless at the last minute and something had overcome him. It would take a long, long time to understand just what that was, what had driven him to do it. But, as he would soon tell people time and time again, there was no fighting the feeling. It just felt too right, too perfect. To put it in a simpler, albeit perhaps overdramatic way, it had felt like fate!
‘That’s not falling…’ Vengeance muttered, his eyes wide and unblinking and utterly transfixed. ‘And who cares? Winning isn’t the be all and end all?’
It was barely a whisper, but it was enough for Johnny's trained ears to catch nonetheless.
He didn’t look up as from his packing as he retorted. ‘Oh! Is that so?’
‘It is!’ Vengeance snapped firmly, not even meaning to.
‘Are you sure?’ He followed up, still packing.
‘Very sure!’ Vengeance confirmed.
Johnny had no choice now, he felt. He stood up straight from what he was doing, sighing as he did so. His eyes choosing to remain faced, exasperated, in the opposite direction.
‘Well, if it’s not falling, then what do you call it when someone goes hurtling from the top of a ladder like that?’ He eventually asked.
The smile returned without opposition or restraint, burning bright within Vengeance's eyes as much as it was cast by his lips.
‘Flying!’ He answered simply…
*******
The sound of laughter whispered in the wind and then echoed within his ears, ringing, searing at his mind like verbal lava. Air rushed up with great force into his face, stinging the flesh of his face with its stark chill; his now long hair blown forcefully back and his eyes pinned shut. He was already all-too aware that he was plummeting, out of control, endlessly. His body twisted and turned through the darkness his closed eyes imposed on himself, a bird with broken wings hurtling towards oblivion.
‘Are you falling…?’ An unseen voice asked, as startling now as it had been nigh on over fourteen years ago.
‘No,’ Vengeance snapped suddenly, defiantly, though his flailing and grasping arms spoke countering volumes.
‘Are you afraid…?’ It asked next, ignoring Vengeance's first answer altogether.
‘What?’ Vengeance managed to gasp, between sharp intakes of breath that tore at his throat and burned in his lungs.
‘Are you scared?’ The voice repeated. ‘It a simple question—‘
‘NO!’ Vengeance interrupted, bellowing in response. ‘I’m never afraid!’
The laughter that followed his statement cracked like thunder. It was deafening, endless, and felt as though it was coming from everywhere. Vengeance's head pounded at the sound, to the point he was sure it would crack open any minute. He oddly welcomed the idea, he even hoped for it. Anything would surely feel better than that sound. He swallowed his words with a pinch of regret when all at once the sound vanished. The silence was somehow all the more eerie.
‘Then open your eyes!’
‘I can’t!’ Vengeance snapped back. ‘The air pressure is too strong.’
‘That’s the fear talking!’
‘I don’t…fear…ANYTHING!’
‘…THEN OPEN YOUR EYES!!!’
Fine, Vengeance thought to himself and suddenly threw them open…
…Except he didn’t.
They refused to comply. And somewhere behind them panic began to erupt within his mind.
‘Well, what are you waiting for?’ The voice probed. ‘Open them and fly, bird!’
‘I’m trying!’ Vengeance yelled!
‘You’re not trying hard enough!’
‘Who the hell are you?’ Vengeance yelled out into darkness.
Even with his eyes tightly shut, Vengeance threw his head around, seeking out the voice, even as it continued to get whipped back and forth and from side to side.
‘Open your eyes and see!’
‘I can’t!’
‘…Because you’re afraid!’
‘I’m not afraid!!!’
‘Well, you should be!’
All at once, as Vengeance yelled, his eyes flew open, a spontaneous act of defiance that was beyond his control. He looked around suddenly and saw nothing but darkness. It was an endless abyss, a starless and cloudless night sky. Nothing but eternal black….all until Vengeance spun again. He felt his eyes widen as suddenly the darkness stirred and the image of The higher power emerged as though from behind a veil.
‘Who am I?’ The higher power asked, parroting Vengeance's own question from earlier. ‘I’m your doom!’
He smirked widely….and then it was gone. Then The higher power was gone, moving rapidly away as time seemed to gather pace and rush towards its normal speed. All at once, the darkness began to fade and reality began to seep in. All at once every leap and jump and flip Vengeance had ever performed, executed and accomplished flashed before his eyes. Lights bloomed soon afterwards, and sound erupted all around him, from every direction. It was blinding and deafening all at once. He twisted around onto his front and all at once could see it; he could see then ground, rushing up and eager to meet him.
He turned once again and for the second time, his eyes centered on the masked higher power.
But still his eyes never left the image again, he was thrown into the darkness for real…
******
Vengeance woke up with a scream, gasping for breath that refused at first to grace his lungs. When it finally complied, it burned like acid, forcing him to clutch at his chest. He grimaced, almost doubling-over, reminded of the pain that continued to reside within, no matter how many combinations of painkillers the doctors prescribed. As he did, the pain shot away, as it always did, to his back. It shot up his spine and flared like an explosion in his shoulders, which in turn sent clusters of pain all through his body. A teacher and healer of the darkness had once told him that everything was connected; he had never thought such a thing as true as he did now. There wasn’t a single place his physical suffering didn’t reach.
When he could, he sat back upright. His grimace became a scowl as his headache eased enough for him to thinking a little more clearly. Meanwhile, over the course of the past couple months, Vengeance had been left to rot and be forgotten.
It was enough to make a man sick or drive him insane…
A flash of lightning filled the dark, starry sky outside the window he had been sitting—and then slumbering—in front of. It filled his face and the glass before him with the grotesque and barely recognizable vision of it. His neck was braced, his head bandaged. The hand that had rushed to his chest in agony was splinted at the wrist. Cuts and bruises and even a fresh scar blessed the pale flesh anew, scattered randomly amid the mask of black and white paint that he had yet to wash away fully. It was like something from a horror movie or camp-fire story: a monstrous thing that lurks ever-present in the window of the house that kids always run passed. The thought was punctuated by another flash of lightning, a rumble of thunder.
Within the second, his bloodshot eyes managed to pull away from the pitiful image of himself, as a silhouette was briefly illuminated in the doorway behind him. He wheeled around suddenly, but there was no monster or demon of his own to face, confront and overcome.
There was only the darkness.
Somewhere, a part of his mind suddenly gushed with relief and thought it just as well. His fingers curled and uncurled with a will of their own, refusing to form and hold even a small indication of a defensive and defiant fist. In a word, he was currently defenceless. All he could do was reach down and wheel himself slowly forward.
‘What are you doing here?’ Vengeance countered, throwing out a question of his own. ‘More importantly, where have you been?’
Vengeance cast his mind back. He hadn’t believed in the darkness for years
Vengeance slowly turned back around one last time, and looked the higher power dead in the eye. Coffinman, Banks HA I would still rather kill them in cold blood in the middle of the ring, in front of each of their pathetic fans than let them walk out attempting to make a name for themselves at my expense. I will not only defeat them; I will massacre them! And I’m going to enjoy it!’
And there was no stopping the images that burst to life before his mind’s eye—images of Pain, Suffering, Violence! Vengeance internally witnessed.
All at once, Vengeance buried the voice and shrugged the images away, as he suddenly caught a glimpse of fresh movement over Higher power’s shoulder. It was a door opening. From it a doctor around Vengeance's age stepped out into the darkened corridor. Vengeance watched, without looking directly, as the doctor took a moment and headed off along the corridor in the other direction. Vengeance waited until he was out of sight.
'The Doctor of Death' Vengeance whispered
‘I guess so.’ The higher power replied. ‘Rest away!’
He turned on the spot, not waiting for Vengeance to offer any further parting words or even turn around. He had a different idea, however, and offered them anyway.
‘Oh, by the way…Don’t be late for Slam on Sunday.’ The higher power halted in his tracks as he reached the door. ‘The arena can take a backseat for the time being.’
‘Yes sir!’ He replied with a smirk, taking a leaf out of Vengeance's earlier book and not looking back, ‘but no need to put anything on the backburner. That’s what I came to tell you, the arena is finished!’
And with that, he strolled out of the room. Vengeance remained where he was sat, motionless, as his footsteps tap-tap-tapped along the solid floor and then all at once, he pushed himself up and out of the chair. He took a quick second to catch his breath and then he quickly limped his way to the door himself. He listened out as he reached it, but head nothing. Straight away, he rushed off along the corridor, calculating as he went.
He reached the roof in just under three minutes, if he was right in every scrap of information he had gathered over the last four days, he was just in time. The gust of wind was a literal breath of fresh air to his skin and his lungs. He inhaled deeply and moved towards the edge. His legs were going slower now; the pain in his back and joints coming on quicker than he had anticipated, than he had hoped.
Is that what happened?
Is that what had lead to this?
‘No,’ Vengeance answering his own question, refusing to accept that. ‘Pride is a sin, and I am he without sin; the thrower of the first stone. The WCF did this, nobody else, certainly not I. And for it I shall reserve the biggest rocks for them, I will make them pay for their actions! There’s no pride or vanity here, what I say is just simple fact! It’s about time people begun to rediscover that truth! It’s about time The WCF roster and everybody else were re-educated on that particular lesson, starting at Slam. With my destruction, it’s time to get my legacy back on track!’
‘I am superior,’ He continued. ‘I am above…’ ’I am Darkness’
He turned his ferocious glare downwards, focusing it on all the various people that moved about their business—each of them no more at this distance than the insignificant ants Vengeance believed them to be. More specifically he directed his gaze down towards the sound of the car he had been listening to, seeking to get a fix on a description of it.
‘I am—‘ he said as he did so.
No other words came forward. Instead, the moment he looked down fully, a wave of overwhelming dizziness enveloped him. The ground below never looked so far away and moved further away before his very eyes. Not only that but it swayed and rocked. Vengeance's eyes rolled as his legs began to buckle and his stomach tied itself up in sudden knots. Panic flared. Sickness rose into his throat. And all at once he was falling again….
Luckily for him, he landed with a crunch on the roof, having fallen backwards. He rolled straight onto his side, feeling as though he was definitely about to be sick. When nothing came, he rolled back onto his back, and pinched his eyes closed against the pounding in his head. Confusion swam within and spread across the expression on his face.
‘What the hell’s happening?’ Vengeance asked, throwing the question out into the world….
….and got nothing in response but another eerie flash of lightning and an ominous roar of thunder, as the heavens opened and unleashed a midnight shower.
Sometimes it was a feeling that felt almost literal; although it was more just that so much had happened since. In short, the world and the people within it had changed so much. Vengeance knew this fact more than most. He knew it so much so, that if he was to be presently asked about this day, it would take hours upon hours of scouring the distant annals of his bank for this particular memory.
And once he found it, even he would have scarcely recognized himself…
Monday, February 18th, 2000 – Boston, Massachusetts…
The curtain twitched, and then flew back completely as he leapt through it. A then trademark and ever-present smile stretched across his then much more youthful face. His hair was shorter than probably anybody has ever seen, close cropped and gelled into a spiked style. Over his shoulder, the vision of the crowd could be seen—it was nowhere near as big as those he would come to know, love and then revile over in WFW, but it was the biggest he had hitherto performed competed before. The sounds of the roars and the cheers filled his ears and in turn his mind, prompting the smile to spread farther still. The lights, the action, the entire atmosphere of it felt as though it had enveloped him; it was electricity in his veins and he was embracing every sparking fragment of the sensation.
It was the single greatest moment of his life.
‘Well, that was a fucking disaster!’
The words startled him as he pushed open the door, his body jolting as he turned his head back up and was confronted by the opposed image of his Head trainer, Johnny. Vengeance halted and remained fixed in the doorway, as the man marched over with the authoritative pace of a drill sergeant. Looming in similar fashion, he was an imposing figure, belying the steadily greying hairs and signs of aging that visibly adorned his face.
‘And you can drop the smile!’ He commanded down from the good five or six inches that separated their heights.
In the moment, Vengeance had forgotten he was even wearing one. He did as instructed, though not to anything below a casual smirk, as he watched the other man march back again the way he came.
‘What are you talking about?’ Vengeance finally spoke up, returning to the original question, as he stepped firmly into the room.
He pushed the door closed behind him with a swift backwards kick. His trainer answered with a silent gesture of his thumb towards the monitor in the corner of the room. The smile went back up a notch as he saw it was showing delayed footage of his match from moments ago. He was currently locked in a battle of strength as both he and his opponent struggled to drag themselves up their respective sides of the ladder. He fell away just as quickly as the other man turned back around.
‘It went great!’ Vengeance added.
He truly felt it, the joyous and proud feeling not only refusing to dissipate but actually increasing as he relieved the moment from this fresh perspective. He had just reached the top of the ladder, and was reaching for the championship belt as his opponent finally made it up and joined him. His name was CKS. They immediately began trading obligatory and exhausted single punches, taking it in turns to try and knock the other from atop.
‘It went perfect!’ Vengeance corrected through the ever-present smirk.
His fist clenched in celebration and punched faintly at the air in recollection as CKS finally slipped a rung and with a final shot to the temple, he sailed from his side and crashed like a proverbial sack of potatoes to the canvas. A shadow trailed forward over Vengeance, cast by the single bulb swinging from the ceiling of an admittedly little locker-room.
‘You call that perfect?’ Johnny asked, his shadow extending its reach over the footage and the memory.
Vengeance turned his head slightly and glanced up at him. ‘Yeah, what would you call it?’
‘Falling from a ladder!’ He snapped, dramatically turning away again. ‘I’d also call it defeat!’
Vengeance turned back to the monitor as the clang of locker doors, the unfastening of bags and the ruffling of belongings being packed away threatened to eclipse the sound of the action. He could see no remote in sight in order to amend the situation, and turned in time to witness the fall his trainer was speaking of was his own descent from the ladder. He flew straight down from the top amid recalled gasps from the on-looking audience, crashing with even more force than his opponent had previously. It was at that very person that he had been aiming his own falling body. The title had been right there, in his grasp….but he had caught sight of CKS, prone and motionless at the last minute and something had overcome him. It would take a long, long time to understand just what that was, what had driven him to do it. But, as he would soon tell people time and time again, there was no fighting the feeling. It just felt too right, too perfect. To put it in a simpler, albeit perhaps overdramatic way, it had felt like fate!
‘That’s not falling…’ Vengeance muttered, his eyes wide and unblinking and utterly transfixed. ‘And who cares? Winning isn’t the be all and end all?’
It was barely a whisper, but it was enough for Johnny's trained ears to catch nonetheless.
He didn’t look up as from his packing as he retorted. ‘Oh! Is that so?’
‘It is!’ Vengeance snapped firmly, not even meaning to.
‘Are you sure?’ He followed up, still packing.
‘Very sure!’ Vengeance confirmed.
Johnny had no choice now, he felt. He stood up straight from what he was doing, sighing as he did so. His eyes choosing to remain faced, exasperated, in the opposite direction.
‘Well, if it’s not falling, then what do you call it when someone goes hurtling from the top of a ladder like that?’ He eventually asked.
The smile returned without opposition or restraint, burning bright within Vengeance's eyes as much as it was cast by his lips.
‘Flying!’ He answered simply…
*******
The sound of laughter whispered in the wind and then echoed within his ears, ringing, searing at his mind like verbal lava. Air rushed up with great force into his face, stinging the flesh of his face with its stark chill; his now long hair blown forcefully back and his eyes pinned shut. He was already all-too aware that he was plummeting, out of control, endlessly. His body twisted and turned through the darkness his closed eyes imposed on himself, a bird with broken wings hurtling towards oblivion.
‘Are you falling…?’ An unseen voice asked, as startling now as it had been nigh on over fourteen years ago.
‘No,’ Vengeance snapped suddenly, defiantly, though his flailing and grasping arms spoke countering volumes.
‘Are you afraid…?’ It asked next, ignoring Vengeance's first answer altogether.
‘What?’ Vengeance managed to gasp, between sharp intakes of breath that tore at his throat and burned in his lungs.
‘Are you scared?’ The voice repeated. ‘It a simple question—‘
‘NO!’ Vengeance interrupted, bellowing in response. ‘I’m never afraid!’
The laughter that followed his statement cracked like thunder. It was deafening, endless, and felt as though it was coming from everywhere. Vengeance's head pounded at the sound, to the point he was sure it would crack open any minute. He oddly welcomed the idea, he even hoped for it. Anything would surely feel better than that sound. He swallowed his words with a pinch of regret when all at once the sound vanished. The silence was somehow all the more eerie.
‘Then open your eyes!’
‘I can’t!’ Vengeance snapped back. ‘The air pressure is too strong.’
‘That’s the fear talking!’
‘I don’t…fear…ANYTHING!’
‘…THEN OPEN YOUR EYES!!!’
Fine, Vengeance thought to himself and suddenly threw them open…
…Except he didn’t.
They refused to comply. And somewhere behind them panic began to erupt within his mind.
‘Well, what are you waiting for?’ The voice probed. ‘Open them and fly, bird!’
‘I’m trying!’ Vengeance yelled!
‘You’re not trying hard enough!’
‘Who the hell are you?’ Vengeance yelled out into darkness.
Even with his eyes tightly shut, Vengeance threw his head around, seeking out the voice, even as it continued to get whipped back and forth and from side to side.
‘Open your eyes and see!’
‘I can’t!’
‘…Because you’re afraid!’
‘I’m not afraid!!!’
‘Well, you should be!’
All at once, as Vengeance yelled, his eyes flew open, a spontaneous act of defiance that was beyond his control. He looked around suddenly and saw nothing but darkness. It was an endless abyss, a starless and cloudless night sky. Nothing but eternal black….all until Vengeance spun again. He felt his eyes widen as suddenly the darkness stirred and the image of The higher power emerged as though from behind a veil.
‘Who am I?’ The higher power asked, parroting Vengeance's own question from earlier. ‘I’m your doom!’
He smirked widely….and then it was gone. Then The higher power was gone, moving rapidly away as time seemed to gather pace and rush towards its normal speed. All at once, the darkness began to fade and reality began to seep in. All at once every leap and jump and flip Vengeance had ever performed, executed and accomplished flashed before his eyes. Lights bloomed soon afterwards, and sound erupted all around him, from every direction. It was blinding and deafening all at once. He twisted around onto his front and all at once could see it; he could see then ground, rushing up and eager to meet him.
He turned once again and for the second time, his eyes centered on the masked higher power.
But still his eyes never left the image again, he was thrown into the darkness for real…
******
Vengeance woke up with a scream, gasping for breath that refused at first to grace his lungs. When it finally complied, it burned like acid, forcing him to clutch at his chest. He grimaced, almost doubling-over, reminded of the pain that continued to reside within, no matter how many combinations of painkillers the doctors prescribed. As he did, the pain shot away, as it always did, to his back. It shot up his spine and flared like an explosion in his shoulders, which in turn sent clusters of pain all through his body. A teacher and healer of the darkness had once told him that everything was connected; he had never thought such a thing as true as he did now. There wasn’t a single place his physical suffering didn’t reach.
When he could, he sat back upright. His grimace became a scowl as his headache eased enough for him to thinking a little more clearly. Meanwhile, over the course of the past couple months, Vengeance had been left to rot and be forgotten.
It was enough to make a man sick or drive him insane…
A flash of lightning filled the dark, starry sky outside the window he had been sitting—and then slumbering—in front of. It filled his face and the glass before him with the grotesque and barely recognizable vision of it. His neck was braced, his head bandaged. The hand that had rushed to his chest in agony was splinted at the wrist. Cuts and bruises and even a fresh scar blessed the pale flesh anew, scattered randomly amid the mask of black and white paint that he had yet to wash away fully. It was like something from a horror movie or camp-fire story: a monstrous thing that lurks ever-present in the window of the house that kids always run passed. The thought was punctuated by another flash of lightning, a rumble of thunder.
Within the second, his bloodshot eyes managed to pull away from the pitiful image of himself, as a silhouette was briefly illuminated in the doorway behind him. He wheeled around suddenly, but there was no monster or demon of his own to face, confront and overcome.
There was only the darkness.
Somewhere, a part of his mind suddenly gushed with relief and thought it just as well. His fingers curled and uncurled with a will of their own, refusing to form and hold even a small indication of a defensive and defiant fist. In a word, he was currently defenceless. All he could do was reach down and wheel himself slowly forward.
‘What are you doing here?’ Vengeance countered, throwing out a question of his own. ‘More importantly, where have you been?’
Vengeance cast his mind back. He hadn’t believed in the darkness for years
Vengeance slowly turned back around one last time, and looked the higher power dead in the eye. Coffinman, Banks HA I would still rather kill them in cold blood in the middle of the ring, in front of each of their pathetic fans than let them walk out attempting to make a name for themselves at my expense. I will not only defeat them; I will massacre them! And I’m going to enjoy it!’
And there was no stopping the images that burst to life before his mind’s eye—images of Pain, Suffering, Violence! Vengeance internally witnessed.
All at once, Vengeance buried the voice and shrugged the images away, as he suddenly caught a glimpse of fresh movement over Higher power’s shoulder. It was a door opening. From it a doctor around Vengeance's age stepped out into the darkened corridor. Vengeance watched, without looking directly, as the doctor took a moment and headed off along the corridor in the other direction. Vengeance waited until he was out of sight.
'The Doctor of Death' Vengeance whispered
‘I guess so.’ The higher power replied. ‘Rest away!’
He turned on the spot, not waiting for Vengeance to offer any further parting words or even turn around. He had a different idea, however, and offered them anyway.
‘Oh, by the way…Don’t be late for Slam on Sunday.’ The higher power halted in his tracks as he reached the door. ‘The arena can take a backseat for the time being.’
‘Yes sir!’ He replied with a smirk, taking a leaf out of Vengeance's earlier book and not looking back, ‘but no need to put anything on the backburner. That’s what I came to tell you, the arena is finished!’
And with that, he strolled out of the room. Vengeance remained where he was sat, motionless, as his footsteps tap-tap-tapped along the solid floor and then all at once, he pushed himself up and out of the chair. He took a quick second to catch his breath and then he quickly limped his way to the door himself. He listened out as he reached it, but head nothing. Straight away, he rushed off along the corridor, calculating as he went.
He reached the roof in just under three minutes, if he was right in every scrap of information he had gathered over the last four days, he was just in time. The gust of wind was a literal breath of fresh air to his skin and his lungs. He inhaled deeply and moved towards the edge. His legs were going slower now; the pain in his back and joints coming on quicker than he had anticipated, than he had hoped.
Is that what happened?
Is that what had lead to this?
‘No,’ Vengeance answering his own question, refusing to accept that. ‘Pride is a sin, and I am he without sin; the thrower of the first stone. The WCF did this, nobody else, certainly not I. And for it I shall reserve the biggest rocks for them, I will make them pay for their actions! There’s no pride or vanity here, what I say is just simple fact! It’s about time people begun to rediscover that truth! It’s about time The WCF roster and everybody else were re-educated on that particular lesson, starting at Slam. With my destruction, it’s time to get my legacy back on track!’
‘I am superior,’ He continued. ‘I am above…’ ’I am Darkness’
He turned his ferocious glare downwards, focusing it on all the various people that moved about their business—each of them no more at this distance than the insignificant ants Vengeance believed them to be. More specifically he directed his gaze down towards the sound of the car he had been listening to, seeking to get a fix on a description of it.
‘I am—‘ he said as he did so.
No other words came forward. Instead, the moment he looked down fully, a wave of overwhelming dizziness enveloped him. The ground below never looked so far away and moved further away before his very eyes. Not only that but it swayed and rocked. Vengeance's eyes rolled as his legs began to buckle and his stomach tied itself up in sudden knots. Panic flared. Sickness rose into his throat. And all at once he was falling again….
Luckily for him, he landed with a crunch on the roof, having fallen backwards. He rolled straight onto his side, feeling as though he was definitely about to be sick. When nothing came, he rolled back onto his back, and pinched his eyes closed against the pounding in his head. Confusion swam within and spread across the expression on his face.
‘What the hell’s happening?’ Vengeance asked, throwing the question out into the world….
….and got nothing in response but another eerie flash of lightning and an ominous roar of thunder, as the heavens opened and unleashed a midnight shower.
