Post by Corey Black on Feb 13, 2009 1:16:37 GMT -5
The scene opens up to Corey Black driving down an Iowa highway, still listening to Machine Head. It's bright outside, the day seems as full of life as ever.
Corey Black: I can't believe I'm doing this..
Corey pulls off the road he is on, and continues on a desolate dirt road heading through trees. The leaves on the trees have still not grown back, and they are a sickly brown color. There is a big structure beyond the tree line that can barely be seen, and Corey isn't taking his eyes off it. He has even slowed down his car to a crawl as to watch whatever it is.
Corey Black: I told myself, I TOLD MYSELF, I wouldn't do this again. Even when I said I would do it last week, I didn't. And I feel good about that. But damnit, I don't know how else to do a deathmatch tournament.
As Corey approaches a break in the trees, and a road going through it, clouds begin rolling in over head, as can be seen out the windshield. Corey sighs as this happens, and shakes his head. Continuing on through the turning darkness, Corey has to turn his lights on, because the clouds have covered the sun, making day into night.
Corey Black: Still don't understand how that works.
Corey inches his way closer and closer to the structure, when it begins to rain. And not just droplets, sheets of it. Accompanied by fierce lightning and thunder, the rain bears down on the vehicle. Corey's lights hit the structure, and as if it wasn't apparent before, the bell tower stands before him. Corey stops his car before the tower and takes a deep breath before turning the car off, and opening the door. As soon as he opens it, rain drenches him, just like so many times in the past. Corey walks up to the tall tower and just looks up at the wooden top, the housing of the bell. Corey pushes on the large wooden door, which hinges at the top and allows entrance. He walks in and takes a look around, in shock that he's even there. The spiral staircase leading up the outside walls seem untouched, and the floor of the upper level still as rickety as ever. Corey takes his first step up the staircase, and it begins. The scratches on the wall seem to scream out at him. He quickly knocks out his climb, and he reaches the door to the bell. Corey opens the door and steps back into the rain, but back home.
Over in the far corner sits a figure. The figure's eyes glow yellow, and slowly calm to a subtle shade. Corey watches the figure as it awkwardly crawls over to him, kind of like The Grudge. It is wearing Creeping Death face paint and has long black hair, skinny arms and just looks like a mangled beast. It screams at Corey with an Earth shattering shriek. But Corey doesn't flinch. He knows it's a part of him he needs to put behind him. Corey closes his eyes and the creature vanishes. Corey breathes a breath of relief and looks into the camera.
Corey Black: I don't think I should be worrying about a guy that gets beat up, and takes James Bond lessons from a guy named "Mr. Hardkore." Maybe it's me, maybe it's logic. Going around getting cracked in the head with barbed wire, lighttubes, and all that before a deathmatch tournament is certain death. Kore Bond isn't going to help you in the ring against me. Or anyone else, for that matter. I remember seeing him in a pink dress with a rainbow on the front for the longest time. And doesn't he have his scrotum pierced? The thought of that makes my brain want to eliminate itself for knowing. I'd put my career on the line as a bet to the fact that he has been seen wearing a flower in his hair. If anyone takes Kore seriously, I want an e-mail. Or text message. Hell, leave me a note. The homoerotic overtones of your conversations, even leading up to his unfortunate demise, leads one to believe that Naked Madeon is not only still alive and well, but bursting through. You babble, and get beaten, until finally POP. Kore goes down and you fucking love it. Not only that, but you have to involve Torture in your suckfest, turning it into one guy fucking two guys, a specialty of Kevin Hardaway. The only thing gayer than Rick Mad, Torture, and Kore is all of them sucking each other off while Kevin jerks off to it.
But I digress. Winning this tournament will seal the deal here. Three men one night, then two weeks later, the World Champion. And there's not a goddamn person that's going to stand in my way. I'll march right into next month's show as World Champion, in a match against the number one contender ... myself.
Corey stands there for a second, obviously thinking to himself.
Corey Black: Wait, I GOT IT! Kore is really Johnny Vice! Man, I'm glad that mystery is solved. No, seriously, Craven. I know who you are. And I know what you're after. Thing is, I don't give a fuck. It doesn't matter how many times you want to fight, because I have a damn good time beating your face in. Every single time we were in the ring, you got bashed. How was your time with the Shadow Riders? Was it your final fantasy? Because it looked like a joke. Your unfinished business means nothing to me, Craven. I'm not a hard guy to track down. Ask around, someone would have known how to fine me. But you didn't do it. Hell, WCF opened for a tournament, and you were nowhere to be found. Because you're a fucking coward. Hide behind Boone and Wilson, have Davey sign you up in MY tournament, just because you want a piece of me. Johnny, I sincerely hope I get my hands on you. I'll staple your face shut so I don't have to listen to another goddamn word you say. In a perfect world, that's what will happen. What am I saying? It's Thirteen, this IS MY perfect world.
Corey stands before the rope attached to the bell, but he doesn't touch it.
Corey Black: One day, and WCF will know. The bell still tolls ... for all of you.
Without pulling the rope, the bell swings and begins tolling. The camera sweeps to the top of the tower, and the Creeping Death creature is standing there, face upside down, shrieking into the moonlight and rain as the scene fades out.
