Post by Lantlas on Apr 5, 2006 1:05:52 GMT -5
The tag team championship belt glitters from the light in front of me. I hold it out with both hands, looking at it, almost as if examining it. Maybe I was trying to figure out if it meant something other than what it always has, but once again, I arrive at the same conclusion...
...
NOTHING!
...
A meaningless piece of metal, designed to be strapped around the waist of those who need a showpiece to flare their success. I've never been one for flare, or for needing a showpiece. It was more what was behind the championship belt that meant something to be, but unfortunately, the meaning behind this invincible tag team championship reign was nothing more than a false notion of hope. I throw the belt down to the floor.
"Worthless."
It was, how could it be anything else? How could two supposed best friends drift off into ignorance in a matter of weeks? Then again, for best friends we hardly ever made any contact whatsoever. He'd compete in his matches, I'd compete in mine. When we were scheduled together, we'd fight in the same matches and barely even acknowledge one another. I saw him more in my dreams than I did in real life, and lately it seemed like he was slipping anyway. Ever since the re-emergence of Christine, though he knew little about it, his reason for wrestling, perhaps even living, seemed a bit tarnished. He had her now, so he didn't need this life anymore.
Better not to focus on the negatives. Despite this stupid belt being what he wants, I must focus on Willard. One who believes himself to be an imminent threat, but just has a knack for attacking while my back is turned. After this, he spares no expense at claiming that my credentials do not match up to those of his. "Damn," I say out loud, "perfect record, win over the world champion, untouchable against all opponents, what else more could you want?" It's true, what else more could you want? Truth be told, the only people who'd really gotten in a lot of offense on me weren't my opponents, but were people who got involved in my business. In this case, a coward with a cane... Sneaks up in the darkness, with a weapon nonetheless, and thinks he's doing himself some good for attacking the Elven Warrior at a vulnerable moment. Silly little human, you know not of what you've unleashed...
I remember arriving in the hotel after the show this morning, after I'd spent much of the time out in the woods, remembering something I'd buried in my memory long ago. Before I got the chance to head to my room, a little boy approached me. Given my nostalgia for the one I'd taken care of, I couldn't dare just walk away.
...
Kid- Mr. Lantlas?
::Lantlas doesn't respond.::
Kid- I know you're upset about what happened. I don't want you to be. You're still my favorite wrestler.
::Lantlas is still silent. The tension between the surrounding terminal crowd is growing.::
Kid- Lantlas? Please talk to me. I don't want you to hate me because of what that man did.
::Lantlas kneels down, and even on his knees he still towers over the kid. He leans in and whispers something in the kid's ear. The kid quickly nods and backs up, and Lantlas continues down through the aisleway, disappearing down the escalator. The young boy's mother quickly runs up to him.::
Mother- Jason Jacobs, what the hell were you doing bothering that stranger?
Kid- It's okay, mom. It's Lantlas, the wrestler I watch on TV every week!
Mother- Oh, thank God. I thought he was going to hurt you.
::Another woman approaches the two.::
Woman- Little boy? May I ask you something?
Kid- Sure lady!
Woman- What did Lantlas say to you?
Kid- Mommy, is it okay if I tell her?
Mother- Did he say any bad words?
Kid- No.
Mother- Okay then, you can tell her.
Kid- He said to tell my mommy not to let me watch Trauma this week.
...
I unlock my hotel room. It was an unusual feeling, given that I spent most of the nights sleeping in my locker room, but I didn't want to be bothered by anyone. Not with the mood being attacked by this heathen had put me in. I was finding myself in a dark place, especially after the words Willard decided to use. What I thought was envy turns out to be anger. Anger at the thought of how someone can intertwine love and evil so viciously that they love each other based on senseless acts of violence towards those who don't even know them. I know beauty exists in this world; I witnessed it when I held the young girl in my arms. A sense of purity, innocence, sheer bliss for that matter. Then I look at people like Willard, who have everything those of us without the yellow-brick road yearn for, and they're oblivious to what they have. Nothing makes me angrier than someone who doesn't appreciate what they have...
I pull an old friend out from my baggage, the only item I needed to bring with me. I unroll the chain, and the spiked metal ball dangles in front of me. My medieval flail, seen only once in PCW, this instrument of destruction was deadlier than any cane could ever be. I could feel something take over me, something much darker than I was feeling, even at this point in time.
"When people don't like to play by the rules, they seem to forget that it applies to both parties once that barrier is broken. Once that barrier is broken... all bets are off."
I prick the tip of one of the spikes a little too hard, and blood spews from my finger down my wrist. "A false man, a man who did not earn his place where he is, is like a house of cards. It appears he's at his strongest, but only from his own perspective. From his view, the foundation appears sturdy, convincing, and unbreakable because it's built out of his own deception. His own trickery into convincing himself that he's something he's not. A blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then, although not all squirrels are so lucky to have friends to do their work for them. However, when the view changes... when reality sets in and we begin to look from eyes other than our own, it's revealed that a foundation such as his is as fragile as a plate glass window when in the way of a medieval flail being chucked from across the room at full velocity. It shatters, it falls into pieces, and most importantly, completely self-destructs under the pressure he has now put on himself long before he was ready to handle such responsibility."
My Elven blood was pumping through my veins like a railroad engine. Never had I felt so alive, so invigorated by an opponent!
"Regrets are for the weak. There's no use in trying to change the past, no matter how ridiculous it is. I'll let Jason Willard try to overcome his self-doubt as to why he could never beat me on his own. Because you know this, because you know this one is too good for you to handle, you begin asking for help, doing anything you can. You enlist the help of friends to aid you in your impossible quest. The battle is over, but the war has just begun. I do not need the allies, I do not need the rules. These three worthless humans wanted a piece of the Elven Warrior, and they're about to get it! No one has survived the Elven Path without defeat, and there are just three more names to be written into the Elvish Tale!"
This is not about Seth Sinn, this is not about Blade. This is about three men who call themselves the "Nightmare to Society." Anthony Douglas, American Nightmare, Jason Willard... what do these three have in common besides the lack of fortitude to face someone head-on? Anthony goes on and on about how much his life sucks, and how he doesn't really have any emotions anymore, but then goes out and finds two new friends to not have emotions with either, despite one of them having everything a human man could ask for... something one of inhuman descent would risk anything for, even himself.
For him to say I'm undeserving is like saying he himself is deserving. What has he done around here? How, in the short time he's been around, has he already found his way to the main event? Didn't I have to deal with the Byrd and Tony Brass on a repeated basis? Didn't I have to go through being bet against by everyone, being laughed at, being spit on, and being doubted before I decimated all in my path to prove that I was more than a joke? Now, just because some arrogant human has a few friends and a signature weapon, he ends up in the ring with the best PCW has ever seen, no exaggeration. Sure, some could claim the best is Ace Anderson, but I've defeated even him, soon I would do so for the title he holds so dear. Now, in the main event before Hostile Takeover, I'd be forced to potentially cut another young man's career short, because he was stupid enough not to read up on recent history...
Now, there would be no interference. No one to save his ass from the hell he unleashed upon himself. I should advise him to check the records. Ten times, ten victories. No cane, no multitude of moves, no human can keep me down. He might've taken out my knee temporarily, but here I am, less than one day later, walking on it just fine. His mission in weakening me failed, and he would have to pay the consequences.
"Having no reason to attack me may have been the biggest mistake of your human life, Willard."
I dropped the flail, saving it for when I can crack it against his skull. See how he likes being attacked with a weapon, though compared to a cane, it'd be a bit more intimidating. No interference, no chance for him to escape, another brick in the wall, another win on my record. I should thank him for giving me a reason to hate him.
There's suddenly a knock at my door. Interesting, I made it a point to not let anyone know I was here. I open the door, and I see a police officer staring back at me... well... looking up at me, more accurately. "Lantlas Anduril?"
"Yes, officer."
"I regret to inform you of something concerning your close friend, Devon Drake."
Panic mode, what did Devon do now? Did it have anything to do with her record? Did she hurt someone?
"It appears that her doctor, Virgill White, was found dead today. Devon has gone missing, no one has any idea what has happened to her. We were wondering if you had any information."
Devon wouldn't have done that. Virgill was the only one helping Devon through such a dark situation involving...
...
Kieran.
...
"Officer, I do not know where she is, but I will keep my eye out."
"Thank you, sir. If you have any information, please contact me." I take his card and shove it in my back pocket, and I slam the door. The balance of fate has been completed, and it's worse than it could've been. The only one who could control and understand the minds of Devon Drake and Kieran Evenstar had been vanquished, and there was now a very dark, dangerous woman on the prowl. God, I hope no one gets in her way before I find her...