Post by Corey Black on Aug 12, 2016 7:59:55 GMT -5
The Seven Deadly Sins
Chapter 5: Adam Young
Sleeping is almost a chore four days into the Deathmatch Tournament. The very same hotel room Corey and Nikki have been in since the beginning is starting to look more and more like a hospital with each passing match. Bandages, creams, pulse-ox monitors and more. It's the sacrifice CD makes to be King.
Something catches his eye, though. The picture on the wall, that's what peeks his attention. The shadowy figure in the bell tower has moves to the ground. Now he's standing in front of the door. Corey's eyes widen, he puts his head in his hands and shakes and then violently shakes, trying to get the image out of his mind. Nikki wakes up and jumps into action.
Oh shit oh shit! I didn't mean for it to actually happen! I thought you could use it!
Corey stops shaking. He looks up, the shadowy figure is even closer yet. Black smiles, just a little bit. Without saying a word, he walks over and begins unpacking all his wounds and re-bandaging them up.
That's it? What's going on?
I'm in for the fight of my life Sunday.
Corey's tone is cold, and Nikki knows it. She did this, she knew what would trigger Corey's past. This is all her fault.
In front of a blue WCF banner, Corey Black stands with Nikki Venus by his side. She's not her usual chipper self. In fact, she seems almost timid. Corey though stands strong and very aggressive.
When this whole tournament was suggested to the world, the last place I thought it would come from was Adam Young. Not because he isn't full of bat-shit ideas, but because his chances in this thing were about seven percent. You've gotta give him credit though, he's gone out there night after night, earning his measly one point, and he'll still find a way to talk shit about everyone else like he's the fucking man or something.
Let this be one final lesson, Adam. You're not as good as you think you are. In fact, you're a lot worse than even that. In some demented wonderland maybe you're the best wrestler in the world, but in this universe, you're a one point chump in a deathmatch tournament, and my easy road to the undefeated finals. The Cage of Death awaits my third main event of the week, and will signify the actual death of Adam Young. The 2300 Arena will have never seen anything in its history as brutal, and that ... that is saying something. It's because I'm not going in just to win this thing. It's in the back of my mind, but I'm not going to be satisfied with just getting the points in this. I need to send a message. I have got to show Adam Young exactly what kind of man I am - and what kind of man he is. I've got the finals in the bag. I can sit in the back and drink a Diet Coke while my music plays and take the loss, I'd still be in the finals, and I'd still be the man to watch. That just isn't the point. This battle isn't about eight or ten points. It's the annihilation of a years-long one-sided feud in the mind of him, and annoyance in the mind of me.
Adam Young is an envious coward. He is jealous of the success I've had, all the money I have made, the gold I have won, and he cannot help but continue to run his fucking mouth to me and try to goad me into fighting him. Something I've obliged multiple times with the same result - Burning Hammer, one, two, three. It is his desire to beat me, the greatest wrestler in WCF, to give his wrestling career purpose beyond creating Championship Titles and finding a new tag team partner every two months. Adam Young is jealous that I worked half my life building this career, and he's spent half his at the bottom of the card. So he attempts to convince me to fight him every few months through Twitter, in a sad, sorry attempt at doing something he'll never be able to do. You will never - EVER beat me, Adam, and the fact that you eliminated me from War eats at my soul every single day. I curse the name Gravedigger every time someone utters his wretched name. But tonight in Philadelphia, in front of the roster, the crowd, and the world - it is over. This ends Corey Black and Adam Young. No longer will I walk through life letting you tell me you're going to put my head through the mat, only to turn around and exclaim to the world that I am one of the best. It's one or the other, and let me assist you. I'm the fucking best.
It's probably hard being you. Looking up to a man such as myself and only being met with absolute apathy. Don't look up to me anymore. Find a new crutch to cling onto. At Cage of Death, in the last match of the points portion of this tournament, it stops being me. Latch on to someone that wants to entertain the offer to have matches that mean nothing all the time. Give someone else the attention you didn't get as a child.
I want you to remember Cage of Death every time you even think about looking my direction. Each time you pick Corey Black to play as on WCF 2K17, every time you walk passed my poster hanging on your bedroom wall, when you accidentally knock over my action figure on your dresser - I want you to think back and remember what I fucking did to you inside Cage of Death. I took your dreams and I squashed them in front of your face. Your insistence that you'd blow through this tournament, and here I stand, ten points. Five wins in as many days, Adam. If you think for one millisecond that you could pull this off - ONE. MILLISECOND. - then you are far beyond broken. It gets worse when I think about it, because I know come Monday morning, you'll be at your computer, with your Corey Black wallpaper, Tweeting away about how your performance was wonderful and you deserve one more chance at things.
The envy you hold in your heart toward me is done.
Your delusional views of your surroundings are done.
Long live the King.
The King of the Deathmatch.
of All Wrestlers.
Corey Black's mouth curves upward in a sadistic smile, that of which hasn't been seen here in WCF for years. Almost a toothy grin, he then snaps back into a stoic demeanor and peers deep in the lens of the camera. That same grin forms a second time, and that's where we cut.