Post by Kyle on Dec 10, 2011 11:10:43 GMT -5
As the image fades in, we hear the rolling of a shopping cart. And moments later, our sense of sight is provided something to look at in the form of a grocery store parking lot. Men and women, mostly women, push their carts to their cars, some looking back at the camera with curiousity. They had reason to wonder why a professional cameraman with WCF written on his shirt was standing there filming them. But then the cameraman pans to his left and begins to move in that direction towards a small alley way between the store and a video store. With the little adjustment of the camera once the man steps through the entrance of the alley, the camera picks up the first image of Nathan von Liebert since he signed with WCF.
Nathan was sitting on top of a closed dumpster, his knees drawn up to his chest and his face buried into his knees. His black hair was spiked wildly and greasy as if Nathan hasn't showered in days. His choice of attire furthers the viewer's negative opinion of this man. He has on a wifebeater and jean vest with black shorts and black converse. Not bad clothes besides the fact that the shorts had two holes in them and the wifebeater was stained red. If anyone had seen this man not knowing him, they'd think him dangerous and homeless. But from the little that people know, Nathan was a professional wrestler and pretty good at it from his career record. But how could one be so good in the ring, making thousands of dollars, and still look this bad?
"Wrestling Championship Federation, look close and look well at what you see today. Your federation has always been crazy but the Devil is about to arrive through the form of his right hand."
Nathan's voice was muffled but for the most part, what he said was heard. But how had he known the camera had arrived? The cameraman hadn't announced his prescence yet Nathan had known to begin speaking. But Nathan lifts his head, revealing eyes straight from hell. Not that they were red or even frightening. But the fact that they stared straight at the camera. Some wrestlers stared at the camera to make sure they were seen and heard. But with an image like Nathan had, it was hard to ignore him.
"I hope you weren't expecting anything special from me. I'm not a big super hero like Dalton Henry. And I'm not normal like Blade. I'm Nathan von Liebert and that is enough to ruin many of you for good. I haven't been a World Champion like Odin. I don't own a company like Cody Black. I not one of those men who are known by everyone because of one thing I did. Instead I make myself known week by week by what I do to people. David Caid learned my name when I put him on the shelf for a few months. Evan Harrison learned my name when I carved it into his back with a shard of glass. Men like Devon Mayhem, Carnage, and A.C Smith learned my name when I, a rookie with only four matches under my belt, fought alongside them in the biggest tourney of the year for the World Heavyweight champioship."
Nathan shakes his head, stretching his legs out to their full length. At this moment, the camera can see Nathan's right hand, which is completely red. Not stained but in fact the entire hand was tattooed red. Black writing wraps around the wrist like a barbed wire bracelet but it cannot be read. He slides down to the edge of the dumpster, hanging his feet in mid-air a few feet above the concrete. Placing his hands on the edge, the camera picks up the word "Vlad" written across his finger, one letter on each finger.
"But none of that matters. The fact that I've only lost two matches in my career won't help me at all. Just because I've beaten former champions in the ring won't help me beat anyone here. Because what I did won't help me in the future. In ACW, I was very nearly up to the point of getting a shot at the United States championship. But here, in WCF, I start at the very bottom. I have to beat fellow rookies Dalton Henry and Blade. If anything, this is a match to decide who deserves to even wrestle here. Instead of just a regular singles match, this match might decide whether or not WCF will be our home. Maybe that is why my opponents are frightened and won't speak their opinion. Maybe their just afraid of what I can do. Who knows?
But what I can't figure out is why I'm fighting nobodies like these two. When I debuted in ACW, my first match ever, I wrestled Kaiden Daniels, who had just beaten the World Heavyweight champion the week before. I was given a test right off the back. Kaiden's trainer, Cole Blaze, had beaten my trainer, Bubba Anthony, earlier that year. I guess it was a match between students. But I can't even call it a match after the beating I gave him. Later that week, he left ACW.
So why must I prove myself against these two men? If you need proof of what I can do, all you had to do was find ACW and look me up. Usually you'd find clips of me winning. I understand that besides the Main Event, the opening match is the most important match. But wouldn't it be better if I came here and beat one of your WCF stars. Give me Aaron Miles. Give me Corey Black. Hell give me Switches. Because after what I'd do to him, getting stabbed with a fork would be considered weak."
Nathan drops onto the ground, his shoes splashing into a puddle from the recent rain. A few droplets of water splashes onto the lens, and the cameraman reaches to wipe it off, but Nathan holds his left hand up to stop him. Nathan steps forward, leaning close into the camera, and wipes the water off. By now those watching can notice that Nathan's fingernails are painted black. So he can afford fingernail polish but not clothes suitable for public?
"But the card won't be changed so late into the week, so I'm stuck in this squash match with Dalton and Blade. And I promise a squash match because I will crush both men under my boots Sunday. Don't call it cockiness, arrogance, or stupidity. I'm merely confident that I even against two opponents I've never faced before, I will win easily.
What do either of you have to bring to the table? A super hero gimmick and an average boy deemed The Future. I've wrestled a man who had the same nickname. I beat him. Not that it the only reason I am certain of beating you. I just felt the need to bring that up since that man, who happens to be a new signing in WCF, would knock your ass around this ring because is better than you. He's not the future, but he is closer to being one than you are. And I'd let him beat you to prove this, but I doubt you'll be doing anything in this company after I stomp you through the mat."
Nathan smirks, a creepy addition to his facial features. Even if this man handed out ice cream and sang Christian music, he'd still be frightening. And instead of that, he was an escaped mental patient with a second personality that would torture you for fun, whether you were friend or foe. And all it would take was one drop of blood to bring Vlad out.
"So why haven't either of you said anything? Are you frightened by the picture of me on the WCF website? Have you given up before you even began? Or did you just realize you weren't good enough to wrestle at all, let alone in the ring with me? Any is a good answer to me, and they are all acceptable. I didn't expect anything less though. I'm usually the person people use to weed out who should be in this sport and who shouldn't. And let us just say you'll be two that don't make it very far.
Dalton, you're an excuse to this sport. You post your bio for all of us to see, and just disappear. You're a whack superhero and a wannabe wrestler. Maybe you realized this. Or maybe you actually thought you could stop a bullet and failed. I don't care at all. All I know is you will lose this week.
And Blade. Boy you really don't know how to sell yourself. I happened to be born with a gimmick to exploit with my disorder, but you have nothing. You're just one of four siblings who just happened to ignore drugs and get an education. You think that is good enough to be any good in this sport. Who gives a shit if you played football? Unless you throw footballs at the groins of heels in this company, you'll get no pop. And I hope you weren't surprised when you only lasted a few months in the WWE. You aren't star talent and will never be star talent. And if you keep this up, all you'll be known for in WCF is the jobber that Nathan crushed in his debut. And if that happens, kiss your world title goodbye. Not that you could ever win it."
Nathan sighs.
"I hate that my debut will be tarnished by you two. But in the end, I will win and you two will be forgotten. I'll make it farther in this company and you will make it out the door to the unemployment line. Because you aren't good enough to be in this ring with me.
So the bottom line is I win and you two lose. And that is revelations in my book."
The scene fades out.
Nathan was sitting on top of a closed dumpster, his knees drawn up to his chest and his face buried into his knees. His black hair was spiked wildly and greasy as if Nathan hasn't showered in days. His choice of attire furthers the viewer's negative opinion of this man. He has on a wifebeater and jean vest with black shorts and black converse. Not bad clothes besides the fact that the shorts had two holes in them and the wifebeater was stained red. If anyone had seen this man not knowing him, they'd think him dangerous and homeless. But from the little that people know, Nathan was a professional wrestler and pretty good at it from his career record. But how could one be so good in the ring, making thousands of dollars, and still look this bad?
"Wrestling Championship Federation, look close and look well at what you see today. Your federation has always been crazy but the Devil is about to arrive through the form of his right hand."
Nathan's voice was muffled but for the most part, what he said was heard. But how had he known the camera had arrived? The cameraman hadn't announced his prescence yet Nathan had known to begin speaking. But Nathan lifts his head, revealing eyes straight from hell. Not that they were red or even frightening. But the fact that they stared straight at the camera. Some wrestlers stared at the camera to make sure they were seen and heard. But with an image like Nathan had, it was hard to ignore him.
"I hope you weren't expecting anything special from me. I'm not a big super hero like Dalton Henry. And I'm not normal like Blade. I'm Nathan von Liebert and that is enough to ruin many of you for good. I haven't been a World Champion like Odin. I don't own a company like Cody Black. I not one of those men who are known by everyone because of one thing I did. Instead I make myself known week by week by what I do to people. David Caid learned my name when I put him on the shelf for a few months. Evan Harrison learned my name when I carved it into his back with a shard of glass. Men like Devon Mayhem, Carnage, and A.C Smith learned my name when I, a rookie with only four matches under my belt, fought alongside them in the biggest tourney of the year for the World Heavyweight champioship."
Nathan shakes his head, stretching his legs out to their full length. At this moment, the camera can see Nathan's right hand, which is completely red. Not stained but in fact the entire hand was tattooed red. Black writing wraps around the wrist like a barbed wire bracelet but it cannot be read. He slides down to the edge of the dumpster, hanging his feet in mid-air a few feet above the concrete. Placing his hands on the edge, the camera picks up the word "Vlad" written across his finger, one letter on each finger.
"But none of that matters. The fact that I've only lost two matches in my career won't help me at all. Just because I've beaten former champions in the ring won't help me beat anyone here. Because what I did won't help me in the future. In ACW, I was very nearly up to the point of getting a shot at the United States championship. But here, in WCF, I start at the very bottom. I have to beat fellow rookies Dalton Henry and Blade. If anything, this is a match to decide who deserves to even wrestle here. Instead of just a regular singles match, this match might decide whether or not WCF will be our home. Maybe that is why my opponents are frightened and won't speak their opinion. Maybe their just afraid of what I can do. Who knows?
But what I can't figure out is why I'm fighting nobodies like these two. When I debuted in ACW, my first match ever, I wrestled Kaiden Daniels, who had just beaten the World Heavyweight champion the week before. I was given a test right off the back. Kaiden's trainer, Cole Blaze, had beaten my trainer, Bubba Anthony, earlier that year. I guess it was a match between students. But I can't even call it a match after the beating I gave him. Later that week, he left ACW.
So why must I prove myself against these two men? If you need proof of what I can do, all you had to do was find ACW and look me up. Usually you'd find clips of me winning. I understand that besides the Main Event, the opening match is the most important match. But wouldn't it be better if I came here and beat one of your WCF stars. Give me Aaron Miles. Give me Corey Black. Hell give me Switches. Because after what I'd do to him, getting stabbed with a fork would be considered weak."
Nathan drops onto the ground, his shoes splashing into a puddle from the recent rain. A few droplets of water splashes onto the lens, and the cameraman reaches to wipe it off, but Nathan holds his left hand up to stop him. Nathan steps forward, leaning close into the camera, and wipes the water off. By now those watching can notice that Nathan's fingernails are painted black. So he can afford fingernail polish but not clothes suitable for public?
"But the card won't be changed so late into the week, so I'm stuck in this squash match with Dalton and Blade. And I promise a squash match because I will crush both men under my boots Sunday. Don't call it cockiness, arrogance, or stupidity. I'm merely confident that I even against two opponents I've never faced before, I will win easily.
What do either of you have to bring to the table? A super hero gimmick and an average boy deemed The Future. I've wrestled a man who had the same nickname. I beat him. Not that it the only reason I am certain of beating you. I just felt the need to bring that up since that man, who happens to be a new signing in WCF, would knock your ass around this ring because is better than you. He's not the future, but he is closer to being one than you are. And I'd let him beat you to prove this, but I doubt you'll be doing anything in this company after I stomp you through the mat."
Nathan smirks, a creepy addition to his facial features. Even if this man handed out ice cream and sang Christian music, he'd still be frightening. And instead of that, he was an escaped mental patient with a second personality that would torture you for fun, whether you were friend or foe. And all it would take was one drop of blood to bring Vlad out.
"So why haven't either of you said anything? Are you frightened by the picture of me on the WCF website? Have you given up before you even began? Or did you just realize you weren't good enough to wrestle at all, let alone in the ring with me? Any is a good answer to me, and they are all acceptable. I didn't expect anything less though. I'm usually the person people use to weed out who should be in this sport and who shouldn't. And let us just say you'll be two that don't make it very far.
Dalton, you're an excuse to this sport. You post your bio for all of us to see, and just disappear. You're a whack superhero and a wannabe wrestler. Maybe you realized this. Or maybe you actually thought you could stop a bullet and failed. I don't care at all. All I know is you will lose this week.
And Blade. Boy you really don't know how to sell yourself. I happened to be born with a gimmick to exploit with my disorder, but you have nothing. You're just one of four siblings who just happened to ignore drugs and get an education. You think that is good enough to be any good in this sport. Who gives a shit if you played football? Unless you throw footballs at the groins of heels in this company, you'll get no pop. And I hope you weren't surprised when you only lasted a few months in the WWE. You aren't star talent and will never be star talent. And if you keep this up, all you'll be known for in WCF is the jobber that Nathan crushed in his debut. And if that happens, kiss your world title goodbye. Not that you could ever win it."
Nathan sighs.
"I hate that my debut will be tarnished by you two. But in the end, I will win and you two will be forgotten. I'll make it farther in this company and you will make it out the door to the unemployment line. Because you aren't good enough to be in this ring with me.
So the bottom line is I win and you two lose. And that is revelations in my book."
The scene fades out.
