Fire in the Sky I: This Could Be...
Mar 26, 2016 10:41:51 GMT -5
Joey Flash, Lilith, and 3 more like this
Post by God King Dune on Mar 26, 2016 10:41:51 GMT -5
A black SUV rolls down a lonesome highway at night. We follow alongside it for a moment before the camera begins to zoom in on the tinted driver-side window. Suddenly it opens, and a familiar face greets us. It’s Freeman - Dune’s oldest friend and mentor - and his greying beard and distinctive facial features are lit up by the dash as he turns and spews a loogie from his mouth. The mucus-wad smacks against the camera lens, and we can just barely make out the window rolling up before we cut away.
A fresh lens shows both Dune and Freeman inside the SUV, and it’s Dune’s deep voice that cuts through the silence.
Dune: You want to cut that shit out?
Freeman: What?
Dune: You’ve been hocking up phlegm since Kansas City.
Freeman: Probably caught something in that shit town.
Dune: It’s funny you say that, because I’ve been thinking about getting a place there. Somewhere north of town, in the suburbs. It’s a pretty nice area…
Freeman: You belong in the desert, Dune - we both do.
Dune: I won’t lie, Freeman - I wouldn’t mind never seeing the sands of home again. I don’t miss it, Freeman, not a bit.
Freeman: Well then...you belong in a WCF ring, how about that?
Dune remains silent, turning his head out the window. He instinctively reads a road sign as they pass by it: Chicago - 215 miles. The thought of the arena and the match that awaits him there crosses his mind once more, and he turns to Freeman.
Dune: Rabid’s -
Freeman: Vicious...cruel…
Dune: He’s a badass motherfucker.
Freeman: He’s a deserving motherfucker. None since Joey Flash have earned the right to your full wrath so much as him. I can’t wait to watch you send him sky high.
Dune: C4’s a helluva way to go…
Freeman: Damn straight.
Freeman turns to Dune for a second and gazes upon his troubled, maskless face.
Freeman: Having second thoughts?
Dune: It’s like I said, Freeman - Rabid’s a bad man. If there’s anyone capable of taking me out in the Federation, it’s him.
Freeman: You sound like a bitch. You’re a former World Champion, Dune. You’re the Firestarter, for fuck’s sake - you ought to be thrilled at the opportunity to dismantle Rabid in a C4 explosive match.
Dune: Something’s not right. Something’s amiss. I can’t put my finger on it, but this one doesn’t feel like the rest.
He turns to Freeman.
Dune: This could be -
But before he can finish, a flash of light scatters the darkness around them, and the car comes to an abrupt halt. Both men slam against the dash, knocking Freeman out cold while Dune is slow to recover. Something thick and warm begins to drip down his face, and in wiping it away, he realizes it’s blood. The sight of red precedes the strange feeling of the SUV leaving the solid ground of earth, and looking out he sees that they’re being lifted through the air. He rolls down the window and sticks his head out, but just as he looks up into the blinding light that surrounds them, he loses consciousness.
A fresh lens shows both Dune and Freeman inside the SUV, and it’s Dune’s deep voice that cuts through the silence.
Dune: You want to cut that shit out?
Freeman: What?
Dune: You’ve been hocking up phlegm since Kansas City.
Freeman: Probably caught something in that shit town.
Dune: It’s funny you say that, because I’ve been thinking about getting a place there. Somewhere north of town, in the suburbs. It’s a pretty nice area…
Freeman: You belong in the desert, Dune - we both do.
Dune: I won’t lie, Freeman - I wouldn’t mind never seeing the sands of home again. I don’t miss it, Freeman, not a bit.
Freeman: Well then...you belong in a WCF ring, how about that?
Dune remains silent, turning his head out the window. He instinctively reads a road sign as they pass by it: Chicago - 215 miles. The thought of the arena and the match that awaits him there crosses his mind once more, and he turns to Freeman.
Dune: Rabid’s -
Freeman: Vicious...cruel…
Dune: He’s a badass motherfucker.
Freeman: He’s a deserving motherfucker. None since Joey Flash have earned the right to your full wrath so much as him. I can’t wait to watch you send him sky high.
Dune: C4’s a helluva way to go…
Freeman: Damn straight.
Freeman turns to Dune for a second and gazes upon his troubled, maskless face.
Freeman: Having second thoughts?
Dune: It’s like I said, Freeman - Rabid’s a bad man. If there’s anyone capable of taking me out in the Federation, it’s him.
Freeman: You sound like a bitch. You’re a former World Champion, Dune. You’re the Firestarter, for fuck’s sake - you ought to be thrilled at the opportunity to dismantle Rabid in a C4 explosive match.
Dune: Something’s not right. Something’s amiss. I can’t put my finger on it, but this one doesn’t feel like the rest.
He turns to Freeman.
Dune: This could be -
But before he can finish, a flash of light scatters the darkness around them, and the car comes to an abrupt halt. Both men slam against the dash, knocking Freeman out cold while Dune is slow to recover. Something thick and warm begins to drip down his face, and in wiping it away, he realizes it’s blood. The sight of red precedes the strange feeling of the SUV leaving the solid ground of earth, and looking out he sees that they’re being lifted through the air. He rolls down the window and sticks his head out, but just as he looks up into the blinding light that surrounds them, he loses consciousness.
