Post by Vincent Augustine on Mar 20, 2019 18:56:15 GMT -5
MARCH 20th 2019
Everyone who logged in the WCF website was greeted with a black screen with a ticking countdown. It had been that way for nearly 12 hours now, the countdown nearing its end, less than a minute left, and the users stared with great anticipation. Something was coming, they all knew it, and the fan sites were going crazy with wild theories. Many of the theories revolved around someone making a huge debut just before Kingdom come, other talked about returns to the ring, and none of them even for a moment got it right. Because all of them were stuck on the same simple sad line of thinking that had pervaded the WCF and all other wrestling, and that was that only the loudest, most obnoxious and disrespectful could succeed.
As the countdown closed, the opening instrumental of No more sorrow by Linkin Park began to play. But it wasn’t just through the website, it was all the TV channels, all the radio stations, it was everywhere, the song blasting from every possible location. Frank a young man in Little Elm, Texas just smiled, he had helped with this scheme, and he knew who was behind it from the moment it started. His hacking group had made a lot of money, and they had clearly succeeded in their task.
That day the man showed up with an odd request still stuck in Frank’s head. It was on the face a simple question, ‘is it possible to take over all media, the radios, the TV, the computers?’ The man had asked as if he already knew, but wanted the confirmation. Frank simply smirked and responded. “Everything is on the internet these days, and therefore everything can be hacked. Question is can you afford the cost to do it?” That day still held strong in Frank’s mind, because the man didn’t even balk at the question, simply dropped a bag of money on the ground at Frank’s feet and told him to get it done. “How do I get in touch with you?” Frank had asked as the man walked away.
“You don’t, I contact you.” The way the man said it still gave Frank chills. Frank spent weeks, and most of the money getting everything prepared, and then a box came, a box of more money, and a note. “March 20th, here is some incentive.” Frank smiled he needed the money, the task was costing a pretty penny and the man must have known it would. But that was all in the past, Frank got the job done, and here it was, March 20th, and his hard work was paying off for the stranger he had met, the stranger with an odd request.
As the song rounded out and came to a close, a digital image appeared on the screens, a man’s face obscured by its construction. It seemed oddly human, and at the same time seemed something different. In the end it gave Frank the creeps, even though he had worked to design it. A quaint smile crossed his face as he thought back on the effort, and now watched the result; it gave him a sense of pride, like a parent with a kid learning to walk.
Do I have your attention now? The lengths we have to go just to make people listen, but we don’t let those difficult tasks get in our way, they don’t hold us down. No we push through them and do what must be done, because we know what we stand for, and we understand why the people must hear it, why they must see it. So even as the world watches me, confused and confounded by my actions, the tree is beginning to bare its first fruit.
From the beginning I told everyone this was going to be the long game, repeatedly those words were uttered, and yet not a single person listened. No, all of you shrugged me off, pushed me to the side, seeing nothing more than a new comer trying to find his place, a lost soul searching for answers and a purpose. Maybe in the back of your minds you knew the truth, maybe you will say you knew all along, but every one of you still chose to only look at what was in front of you, to live in the moment, to embrace nothing more than the day at hand. But we all have a reckoning, and I told all of you it was coming, well my friends it is here.
This last week you saw the beginnings of the breakdown, the first man to succumb to his emotional distraught. Jayson Price will tell every single one of you that he cost me the TV title, but that would inherently be wrong. Sure I am not TV champion because of his actions, but ask yourself this. Who did he hurt at Slam? Was it Vincent who simply was allowed to watch Jayson flee like a bitch, or was it Teo whom he struck in the head with a camera? I entered the match not TV champion, and left the match not TV champion, the status quo didn’t change. Teo left the match still TV champion, and being evaluated for a concussion, all before a match for his TV title at Kingdom Come.
So really tell me, who did Jayson Price hurt? Jayson can talk and say all he wants but the reality is I am under his skin, and my social engineering has blinded Price, blinded the man so badly that he would hurt someone else, all in a failed attempt to get at me. Yet, his anger, his sad pride cost himself a chance at the TV title. See knowing that he would have to step into the ring with me at Kingdom Come, all his confidence and Bravado was squashed due to my actions, and in the end Jayson did nothing more than hurt himself. For a man who talks about winning titles, talks about getting back to the top and proving he still has it, he sure as hell did hastily squash having a chance to put some gold around his waist.
Now I am aware there are doubters out there, that group that will say, no you didn’t get under Jayson’s skin, you didn’t force these actions. Fair enough, you can believe what you want to believe; but I encourage you now to hold onto that belief tight, pull it in real close, because that will only make my satisfaction so much better when I rip it from you. There is nothing more satisfying, nothing that tastes better than the tears of sorrow wept by a person whose beliefs are shattered. That horrified look on their face when they realize that everything they hung their hopes on was nothing more than a false idol. It’s like heroin to a man like me, I live for that shit. So please hold tightly to your beliefs, pull them in as tight as you can, and do everything you have to, to not let them go, because I am going to take them from you, and show you the reality that you so blindly don’t want to see.
But then you probably already have forgotten what I said at the beginning, and how could someone like me expect you to possibly dedicate the amount of time you must in order to understand. It’s like talking to a group of nine year old boys who just saw their first boob. You are transfixed, stuck in a world that you have created one with a red sky because it is so rosy and perfect. Don’t worry; I am the storm over the mountains, that bolt of lightning, and crash of thunder that threatens to destroy everything you have built for yourself. Jayson see’s the storm, he knows what is coming, he’s the only one with his eyes open, but his own mind, and his own conscious won’t let him admit it. No seeing or not, he has to fight that storm, like a child sucking on a pacifier hoping that some milk will come out, Jayson is blinded to the reality he knows, but won’t accept, as are all of you.
Deep down inside I would love to tell all of you that I took your feelings into account, but that would be far from the truth. The simple fact is I don’t care about your feelings, your choices have been made, your beds laid out before you, and as the saying is go when you make your bed, you have to lay in it. So I will hold no remorse, no sadness, no worry about your feelings. Instead I will simply focus on the agenda before me, the unmasking of reality.
The darkness around the digital face fades, the digital face forming into that of Vincent Augustine. Around him the room comes into focus, he is laying back in an officer chair with his feet up on a desk, hands behind his head. As the image because more and more visible it becomes more and more clear this is Jayson Price’s office, in the building he was forced to sell.
It’s amazing the deals you can find, amazing the things you can buy. See this tower came up for sale a while back, and while my first inclination was to let it pass, I decided it would make a great investment. Not because the tower itself is anything truly special, but because the land it sits on is prime land for condominiums. Now it did cross my mind, I could turn the tower into Condos, but that renovation is simply not worth the effort, no, that option had to be scrapped, leaving me with only two others.
One, it becomes the headquarters for my enterprises going forward. Now that will mean filling the offices, hiring staff, hell having a payroll, and let’s just be honest that is not my jam at the moment. Menial tasks as such will do nothing but drive me wild while trying to figure out the paths that need to be taken to give all of you what you desperately need. So that is out. Second option is to offer the tower back to Jayson Price, now that would be a huge tax write off, giving someone who is destitute something of such great value, and so that is my offer now to Jayson. Should Jayson win at Kingdom Come, the tower is his, BUT, should I win; Jayson has to join me on Slam two weeks after Kingdom Come to chrysene the building and I break ground on the structural changes I will be making.
Vincent gave the screen a wave, and the image faded out back to black. The radios returned to their normal programming, the TV’s the same, and internet websites returned to their normal loads. Frank smiled a happy smile and leaned back in his chair. In that moment the doorbell of his apartment rang and he jumped to his feet. Moving with caution he peaked through the hole and that’s when the THWUMP!!!! happened; a hole in Frank’s right eye appeared and he fell to his back.
MARCH 21ST 2019
Vincent unfolded the paper in front of him and began reading the headlines on the front page. ’34 HACKERS FOUND DEAD IN 9 DIFFERENT CITIES’ reading on he found the article said something about a rival hacker group taking revenge for an invasive hack perpetrated by the dead hackers. Vincent simply smiled and folded the paper, the buzzer on his desk ringing. “A detective Johnson here for you sir.” Came the sweet words of his new assistant Jenny.
“Send him in.” Vincent replied as he leaned forward in the desk and pressed the red button. Through the door walked a tall man maybe just over six feet, dark hair combed back and a nice grey suit with red tie. He flashed a badge at Vincent and Vincent motioned for the man to take a seat in front of the desk. Putting his hands behind his head, Vincent put his feet up on the desk. “What can I help you with Detective Johnson?” He casually asked.
“I have a few follow up questions.” Detective Johnson responded.
“You cannot possibly think I had anything to do with that hack. It was terribly unfortunate, but I have shown you everything, given you full access to my building and computer equipment, I remain that though it was a terrible thing that happened, I had nothing to do with it.” Vincent spoke casual and calm, he knew that his end was covered, his own people had assured that.
“We are all squared away here, it is clear that you didn’t have any way to access the network to cause what happened. I just forgot to ask you when the video you were recording was supposed to air.” Detective Johnson pulled out his note pad and pen, ready to take down the response.
“Well it was supposed to be uploaded to the site tomorrow morning, but I guess there is no need for that now.” Vincent let out a slight chuckle and reached for his tea on the desk. “Truth is detective, after watching the recording, I wish I had a chance to redo it, I mean, there felt like there was so much more to say, and yet, I said everything that needed to say. Beating a dead horse or something maybe, I don’t know.” Vincent shook his head then tipped the cup to his lip and took a sip.
“I guess so.” Detective Johnson stood up and began to leave but stopped by the door. “Something does bother me though. If you had no internet access, no hardwire, no WIFI, how did they get the feed?” Johnson half smiled.
“Detective I knew a lad back in Ireland, good lad, great grades in school, real eye for details. Spent his days making money by surveying areas of concern for my employer at the time. He was real careful, the kind of lad that made my job easy, and yet even the most careful of people make mistakes.” Vincent sipped his cup. “In this instance the boy saw something of great importance, but not what he was paid to see, and his conscience kept him from keeping it to himself. Really drove him crazy, ended up eating a bullet because he couldn’t live with what he had seen.” Vincent winked at the Detective, held up his drink then took a sip as the Detective simply smiled and strode out of the office, the door shutting behind him.
Vincent enjoyed ten seconds of silence in the office before the phone rang. With an evil glare he stared at it and the number, the same number calling every hour on the hour since the airing of his live broadcast. With a huff he simply stood up and moved to the window. “You know they gonna keep callin right?” The old Asian lady strode up next to him. “Probably want to get the scoop on how you did it.”
“Well you heard the Detective, I didn’t do it.” Vincent snapped back. “Besides, even if I admitted to it, I couldn’t explain how it happened, I left myself out of the loop of the details, and everyone that had a clue is now dead. Compartmentalization at its finest.” Vincent smiled.
“Where did you get the money?” Jenny was standing at the door now looking at Vincent who spun on his heel. “I have always had money. It was simply a rouse before; you know a smoke screen if you will, show them one thing when there is really something else going on. Make them think I was broke and they would never suspect anything different. Besides traveling to different countries has its perks.” Vincent took another sip of his tea and finished the cup off.
“Well it isn’t nice to trick people. That kind of thing will catch up with you. I’m going home for the day sir, it’s 6.” Jenny waved and shut the door as she left.
“She pretty girl.” The Asian lady said with a smile. “You be wise keep her around, she smart too.” The lady slapped Vincent on the shoulder and strode for the door.
“You realize that I know she is right don’t you?” Vincent asked, the Asian lady only stopping for a moment to turn around and nod. “It didn’t end well the first time, but this time it will be different, I’m not making the same mistakes I did last time.”
“You telling me, or are you telling yourself?” The Asian lady asked before continuing to the door. Vincent simply slipped down into the chair and didn’t even hear her leave the room. It had been a shit show before, a real shit show to be honest.
The last time he played the long game, it cost Vincent his job. Sure he wasn’t fire, no they simply asked him to walk away, gave him a fat pension, a bunch of money, and a portion of all the money that he helped to seize during his time with the agency. He was a rich man, but he left as a failure in his own eyes, and the eyes of those around him. Nearly a year he wallowed in his own sorrow, until he found something to drive him, the WCF. It was an opportunity to do what he used too, infiltrate from the inside, expose the fallacy, and turn the group upside down, his plan was flawless, and to this point was going off without a hitch. No, this wasn’t going to be like the last time, this time it was going to work; it has to work, because if it didn’t, there would be nothing else. Vincent smiled, put his feet up on Jayson’s desk and relaxed in the leather chair.
Everyone who logged in the WCF website was greeted with a black screen with a ticking countdown. It had been that way for nearly 12 hours now, the countdown nearing its end, less than a minute left, and the users stared with great anticipation. Something was coming, they all knew it, and the fan sites were going crazy with wild theories. Many of the theories revolved around someone making a huge debut just before Kingdom come, other talked about returns to the ring, and none of them even for a moment got it right. Because all of them were stuck on the same simple sad line of thinking that had pervaded the WCF and all other wrestling, and that was that only the loudest, most obnoxious and disrespectful could succeed.
As the countdown closed, the opening instrumental of No more sorrow by Linkin Park began to play. But it wasn’t just through the website, it was all the TV channels, all the radio stations, it was everywhere, the song blasting from every possible location. Frank a young man in Little Elm, Texas just smiled, he had helped with this scheme, and he knew who was behind it from the moment it started. His hacking group had made a lot of money, and they had clearly succeeded in their task.
That day the man showed up with an odd request still stuck in Frank’s head. It was on the face a simple question, ‘is it possible to take over all media, the radios, the TV, the computers?’ The man had asked as if he already knew, but wanted the confirmation. Frank simply smirked and responded. “Everything is on the internet these days, and therefore everything can be hacked. Question is can you afford the cost to do it?” That day still held strong in Frank’s mind, because the man didn’t even balk at the question, simply dropped a bag of money on the ground at Frank’s feet and told him to get it done. “How do I get in touch with you?” Frank had asked as the man walked away.
“You don’t, I contact you.” The way the man said it still gave Frank chills. Frank spent weeks, and most of the money getting everything prepared, and then a box came, a box of more money, and a note. “March 20th, here is some incentive.” Frank smiled he needed the money, the task was costing a pretty penny and the man must have known it would. But that was all in the past, Frank got the job done, and here it was, March 20th, and his hard work was paying off for the stranger he had met, the stranger with an odd request.
As the song rounded out and came to a close, a digital image appeared on the screens, a man’s face obscured by its construction. It seemed oddly human, and at the same time seemed something different. In the end it gave Frank the creeps, even though he had worked to design it. A quaint smile crossed his face as he thought back on the effort, and now watched the result; it gave him a sense of pride, like a parent with a kid learning to walk.
Do I have your attention now? The lengths we have to go just to make people listen, but we don’t let those difficult tasks get in our way, they don’t hold us down. No we push through them and do what must be done, because we know what we stand for, and we understand why the people must hear it, why they must see it. So even as the world watches me, confused and confounded by my actions, the tree is beginning to bare its first fruit.
From the beginning I told everyone this was going to be the long game, repeatedly those words were uttered, and yet not a single person listened. No, all of you shrugged me off, pushed me to the side, seeing nothing more than a new comer trying to find his place, a lost soul searching for answers and a purpose. Maybe in the back of your minds you knew the truth, maybe you will say you knew all along, but every one of you still chose to only look at what was in front of you, to live in the moment, to embrace nothing more than the day at hand. But we all have a reckoning, and I told all of you it was coming, well my friends it is here.
This last week you saw the beginnings of the breakdown, the first man to succumb to his emotional distraught. Jayson Price will tell every single one of you that he cost me the TV title, but that would inherently be wrong. Sure I am not TV champion because of his actions, but ask yourself this. Who did he hurt at Slam? Was it Vincent who simply was allowed to watch Jayson flee like a bitch, or was it Teo whom he struck in the head with a camera? I entered the match not TV champion, and left the match not TV champion, the status quo didn’t change. Teo left the match still TV champion, and being evaluated for a concussion, all before a match for his TV title at Kingdom Come.
So really tell me, who did Jayson Price hurt? Jayson can talk and say all he wants but the reality is I am under his skin, and my social engineering has blinded Price, blinded the man so badly that he would hurt someone else, all in a failed attempt to get at me. Yet, his anger, his sad pride cost himself a chance at the TV title. See knowing that he would have to step into the ring with me at Kingdom Come, all his confidence and Bravado was squashed due to my actions, and in the end Jayson did nothing more than hurt himself. For a man who talks about winning titles, talks about getting back to the top and proving he still has it, he sure as hell did hastily squash having a chance to put some gold around his waist.
Now I am aware there are doubters out there, that group that will say, no you didn’t get under Jayson’s skin, you didn’t force these actions. Fair enough, you can believe what you want to believe; but I encourage you now to hold onto that belief tight, pull it in real close, because that will only make my satisfaction so much better when I rip it from you. There is nothing more satisfying, nothing that tastes better than the tears of sorrow wept by a person whose beliefs are shattered. That horrified look on their face when they realize that everything they hung their hopes on was nothing more than a false idol. It’s like heroin to a man like me, I live for that shit. So please hold tightly to your beliefs, pull them in as tight as you can, and do everything you have to, to not let them go, because I am going to take them from you, and show you the reality that you so blindly don’t want to see.
But then you probably already have forgotten what I said at the beginning, and how could someone like me expect you to possibly dedicate the amount of time you must in order to understand. It’s like talking to a group of nine year old boys who just saw their first boob. You are transfixed, stuck in a world that you have created one with a red sky because it is so rosy and perfect. Don’t worry; I am the storm over the mountains, that bolt of lightning, and crash of thunder that threatens to destroy everything you have built for yourself. Jayson see’s the storm, he knows what is coming, he’s the only one with his eyes open, but his own mind, and his own conscious won’t let him admit it. No seeing or not, he has to fight that storm, like a child sucking on a pacifier hoping that some milk will come out, Jayson is blinded to the reality he knows, but won’t accept, as are all of you.
Deep down inside I would love to tell all of you that I took your feelings into account, but that would be far from the truth. The simple fact is I don’t care about your feelings, your choices have been made, your beds laid out before you, and as the saying is go when you make your bed, you have to lay in it. So I will hold no remorse, no sadness, no worry about your feelings. Instead I will simply focus on the agenda before me, the unmasking of reality.
The darkness around the digital face fades, the digital face forming into that of Vincent Augustine. Around him the room comes into focus, he is laying back in an officer chair with his feet up on a desk, hands behind his head. As the image because more and more visible it becomes more and more clear this is Jayson Price’s office, in the building he was forced to sell.
It’s amazing the deals you can find, amazing the things you can buy. See this tower came up for sale a while back, and while my first inclination was to let it pass, I decided it would make a great investment. Not because the tower itself is anything truly special, but because the land it sits on is prime land for condominiums. Now it did cross my mind, I could turn the tower into Condos, but that renovation is simply not worth the effort, no, that option had to be scrapped, leaving me with only two others.
One, it becomes the headquarters for my enterprises going forward. Now that will mean filling the offices, hiring staff, hell having a payroll, and let’s just be honest that is not my jam at the moment. Menial tasks as such will do nothing but drive me wild while trying to figure out the paths that need to be taken to give all of you what you desperately need. So that is out. Second option is to offer the tower back to Jayson Price, now that would be a huge tax write off, giving someone who is destitute something of such great value, and so that is my offer now to Jayson. Should Jayson win at Kingdom Come, the tower is his, BUT, should I win; Jayson has to join me on Slam two weeks after Kingdom Come to chrysene the building and I break ground on the structural changes I will be making.
Vincent gave the screen a wave, and the image faded out back to black. The radios returned to their normal programming, the TV’s the same, and internet websites returned to their normal loads. Frank smiled a happy smile and leaned back in his chair. In that moment the doorbell of his apartment rang and he jumped to his feet. Moving with caution he peaked through the hole and that’s when the THWUMP!!!! happened; a hole in Frank’s right eye appeared and he fell to his back.
MARCH 21ST 2019
Vincent unfolded the paper in front of him and began reading the headlines on the front page. ’34 HACKERS FOUND DEAD IN 9 DIFFERENT CITIES’ reading on he found the article said something about a rival hacker group taking revenge for an invasive hack perpetrated by the dead hackers. Vincent simply smiled and folded the paper, the buzzer on his desk ringing. “A detective Johnson here for you sir.” Came the sweet words of his new assistant Jenny.
“Send him in.” Vincent replied as he leaned forward in the desk and pressed the red button. Through the door walked a tall man maybe just over six feet, dark hair combed back and a nice grey suit with red tie. He flashed a badge at Vincent and Vincent motioned for the man to take a seat in front of the desk. Putting his hands behind his head, Vincent put his feet up on the desk. “What can I help you with Detective Johnson?” He casually asked.
“I have a few follow up questions.” Detective Johnson responded.
“You cannot possibly think I had anything to do with that hack. It was terribly unfortunate, but I have shown you everything, given you full access to my building and computer equipment, I remain that though it was a terrible thing that happened, I had nothing to do with it.” Vincent spoke casual and calm, he knew that his end was covered, his own people had assured that.
“We are all squared away here, it is clear that you didn’t have any way to access the network to cause what happened. I just forgot to ask you when the video you were recording was supposed to air.” Detective Johnson pulled out his note pad and pen, ready to take down the response.
“Well it was supposed to be uploaded to the site tomorrow morning, but I guess there is no need for that now.” Vincent let out a slight chuckle and reached for his tea on the desk. “Truth is detective, after watching the recording, I wish I had a chance to redo it, I mean, there felt like there was so much more to say, and yet, I said everything that needed to say. Beating a dead horse or something maybe, I don’t know.” Vincent shook his head then tipped the cup to his lip and took a sip.
“I guess so.” Detective Johnson stood up and began to leave but stopped by the door. “Something does bother me though. If you had no internet access, no hardwire, no WIFI, how did they get the feed?” Johnson half smiled.
“Detective I knew a lad back in Ireland, good lad, great grades in school, real eye for details. Spent his days making money by surveying areas of concern for my employer at the time. He was real careful, the kind of lad that made my job easy, and yet even the most careful of people make mistakes.” Vincent sipped his cup. “In this instance the boy saw something of great importance, but not what he was paid to see, and his conscience kept him from keeping it to himself. Really drove him crazy, ended up eating a bullet because he couldn’t live with what he had seen.” Vincent winked at the Detective, held up his drink then took a sip as the Detective simply smiled and strode out of the office, the door shutting behind him.
Vincent enjoyed ten seconds of silence in the office before the phone rang. With an evil glare he stared at it and the number, the same number calling every hour on the hour since the airing of his live broadcast. With a huff he simply stood up and moved to the window. “You know they gonna keep callin right?” The old Asian lady strode up next to him. “Probably want to get the scoop on how you did it.”
“Well you heard the Detective, I didn’t do it.” Vincent snapped back. “Besides, even if I admitted to it, I couldn’t explain how it happened, I left myself out of the loop of the details, and everyone that had a clue is now dead. Compartmentalization at its finest.” Vincent smiled.
“Where did you get the money?” Jenny was standing at the door now looking at Vincent who spun on his heel. “I have always had money. It was simply a rouse before; you know a smoke screen if you will, show them one thing when there is really something else going on. Make them think I was broke and they would never suspect anything different. Besides traveling to different countries has its perks.” Vincent took another sip of his tea and finished the cup off.
“Well it isn’t nice to trick people. That kind of thing will catch up with you. I’m going home for the day sir, it’s 6.” Jenny waved and shut the door as she left.
“She pretty girl.” The Asian lady said with a smile. “You be wise keep her around, she smart too.” The lady slapped Vincent on the shoulder and strode for the door.
“You realize that I know she is right don’t you?” Vincent asked, the Asian lady only stopping for a moment to turn around and nod. “It didn’t end well the first time, but this time it will be different, I’m not making the same mistakes I did last time.”
“You telling me, or are you telling yourself?” The Asian lady asked before continuing to the door. Vincent simply slipped down into the chair and didn’t even hear her leave the room. It had been a shit show before, a real shit show to be honest.
The last time he played the long game, it cost Vincent his job. Sure he wasn’t fire, no they simply asked him to walk away, gave him a fat pension, a bunch of money, and a portion of all the money that he helped to seize during his time with the agency. He was a rich man, but he left as a failure in his own eyes, and the eyes of those around him. Nearly a year he wallowed in his own sorrow, until he found something to drive him, the WCF. It was an opportunity to do what he used too, infiltrate from the inside, expose the fallacy, and turn the group upside down, his plan was flawless, and to this point was going off without a hitch. No, this wasn’t going to be like the last time, this time it was going to work; it has to work, because if it didn’t, there would be nothing else. Vincent smiled, put his feet up on Jayson’s desk and relaxed in the leather chair.
