Post by Tyler Scott on Feb 1, 2019 17:42:26 GMT -5
Tyler sits at home, with whiskey bottle in hand, staring at his newly won Underground Championship.
The dried blood still on his skin from his match hours before. He hadn’t bothered showering. He hadn’t bothered seeking medical attention. Instead, he sits with a needle and thread, sewing himself back up. His foot, torn apart by barbed wire, is sat in a bowl of red lukewarm salt water. After every puncture of needle through skin, Tyler takes a big gulp of whiskey straight from the bottle.
“How long can I keep this up for?”
“I may be the Underground Champion but I have no desire for glory. Victory does not motivate me. I don’t even want to compete anymore. Winning this title means only one thing to me and that is the inconvenience of having to defend it. What a fucking ball-ache.”
“I could have stayed down in the match against David Hunter. I could have let him beat me and I could have avoided all this damage.”
Tyler pulls the threads, closing the wound tightly, and ties it in a neat knot.
“But the fact is, I am not going down to some newbie fuckface. David Hunter you are not good enough. You are not worthy of being the last opponent I ever face. My legacy won’t be dented by someone as insignificant for you. I am afraid I am looking for something better. You can come back with your stupid rematch clause. I will only beat you again and again and again. I am waiting for the one...and you’re not him.”
Tyler takes his right foot out of the water and dabs it dry with a white cloth which soon turns pink. He rubs a healthy handful of Vaseline into all the cuts to seal them, before wrapping a bandage around and around and around his foot.
“Holden Ross you keep on coming back for more. What are you trying to prove exactly? Your master Seromine was not able to save me. His brainwashing did not work on me. You joined him and you too failed to coerce or control me. You failed to deliver on your promises. I realised the frauds you are and I moved on.”
“Now you want to break me? Well...Please Holden - please end it.”
“End my suffering. My body is failing me. I am in constant pain. What once was my only passion - I now resent professional wrestling. But it is the only thing I have left. “
“My life consists of nothing apart from some worthless price of shit made up title around my waist. I may be the Underground Champion. But all I really want is someone to put me in the ground.”
“Holden - prove to me you are good enough. Prove to me that you are worthy of ending my career....please....for fuck sake...end it...”
The dried blood still on his skin from his match hours before. He hadn’t bothered showering. He hadn’t bothered seeking medical attention. Instead, he sits with a needle and thread, sewing himself back up. His foot, torn apart by barbed wire, is sat in a bowl of red lukewarm salt water. After every puncture of needle through skin, Tyler takes a big gulp of whiskey straight from the bottle.
“How long can I keep this up for?”
“I may be the Underground Champion but I have no desire for glory. Victory does not motivate me. I don’t even want to compete anymore. Winning this title means only one thing to me and that is the inconvenience of having to defend it. What a fucking ball-ache.”
“I could have stayed down in the match against David Hunter. I could have let him beat me and I could have avoided all this damage.”
Tyler pulls the threads, closing the wound tightly, and ties it in a neat knot.
“But the fact is, I am not going down to some newbie fuckface. David Hunter you are not good enough. You are not worthy of being the last opponent I ever face. My legacy won’t be dented by someone as insignificant for you. I am afraid I am looking for something better. You can come back with your stupid rematch clause. I will only beat you again and again and again. I am waiting for the one...and you’re not him.”
Tyler takes his right foot out of the water and dabs it dry with a white cloth which soon turns pink. He rubs a healthy handful of Vaseline into all the cuts to seal them, before wrapping a bandage around and around and around his foot.
“Holden Ross you keep on coming back for more. What are you trying to prove exactly? Your master Seromine was not able to save me. His brainwashing did not work on me. You joined him and you too failed to coerce or control me. You failed to deliver on your promises. I realised the frauds you are and I moved on.”
“Now you want to break me? Well...Please Holden - please end it.”
“End my suffering. My body is failing me. I am in constant pain. What once was my only passion - I now resent professional wrestling. But it is the only thing I have left. “
“My life consists of nothing apart from some worthless price of shit made up title around my waist. I may be the Underground Champion. But all I really want is someone to put me in the ground.”
“Holden - prove to me you are good enough. Prove to me that you are worthy of ending my career....please....for fuck sake...end it...”
