Post by Cory Steel on Oct 16, 2015 9:52:53 GMT -5
Jury: The Lord's Fold
A BROTHER'S BOND
The two men sat across from each other eyes locked. Judge was clearly broken from his loss at Deadly Intentions and he wore his crimson mask still as a reminder, his eyes were glazed over from the chair shots, color drained from his face from his brutal time in the Deadly Rumble, and still yet he managed to crack a smile with his swollen lips. Jury removed his mask dropping it on the floor of the locker room, "I can't express my level of proudness for you brother," his voice was cracked still from his unknown time with The Saints and each word spoken was strained with effort, "The way I see it Wasp never beat the true champion, no, the true King. You are still King in my eyes and in the eyes of our club so lift your head brother."
Judge sat quietly for a minute stewing on his brothers words but each time he went to speak he just closed his mouth. Jury shook his head, "I've never found you at a loss of words. I say take note at what you did accomplish tonight the endurance of two matches and the second match no doubt was a true feat brother. Lasting as long as you did against the string of strong competitors for YOUR first Deadly Rumble."
"Wasp," Judge finally spoke crusts of blood blowing off his lips, "Wasp, Wasp, Wasp."
Judge stood up repeating The new Underground Kings name and walking past his brother. Jury went to chase Judge but Victor Creed entered the room pushing Jury back, "Give him space," Victor looked back out the door making sure no one else was following and shut the door, "We got to talk about him anyways. Did you hear the news about the massacre in Kentucky?"
Jury cocked an eyebrow shaking his head and so Victor continued, "It was in Frankfort where we was supposed to have that meeting," Victor is on his phone using his finger to scroll through pages of news until he found what he was talking about then handed the phone to Jury, "Did you know about this? Did you give the fucking go on this?"
Jury scanned the article his eyes narrowing into fury, "No, this was supposed to be a peaceful meeting to exchange weapons for money."
Victor sighed as he pulled out his tobacco pipe firing the pipe up puffing furiously, "He is a loose cannon Jury! Worse than even you and by that I mean he has left a call sign on the bodies in the shape of a hand, a black hand. That part hasn't been released to the public but Skinny Pete was there and that's what he did after he murdered two dozen men! To pin murder on the Black Hand while you're trying to make peace, I mean what the Hell?"
"He had reasons I am sure," Jury said with no thinking taking the shoulders of Victor, "I stand beside him."
Victor looked at Jury with defeated eyes, "First you agree to not seek the Underground title for him, then you allow him to go against your ruling about the weapons distribution, and now you are letting him get away with fucking with the Black Hand. Where does it end? This is going to end with you a knife in the back."
"Would it be the first?" Jury said dryly and stepped away from Victor when PCW security came running by the locker room. They followed and finally found five men wrestling with Judge on the ground as he shouted crazily, "I AM THE FIFTH REVELATION! I AM THE FIFTH REVELATION!"
THE LOST BOY.
Jury was burning up the back roads of Kentucky taking in the beautiful fall colors. Since his transformation he'd found himself lost truly putting his life blindly into Judge's hands. His life had spun so far out of control he highly doubted he'd ever get it in line again, it was beginning to scare him. Before he could just snap, do something violent, and in the end be rebalanced. Now he couldn't trigger that rage anymore inside or outside the ring. A memory rushed back to him:
It was a warm sunny day in the country of the state known as New York, two boys laid on their backs in the grass cooling down after they had pretend wrestled with each other. It was a young Cory and Slick Will, "What you going to be one day Cor?" Slick asked blinking his eyes shut because of the sun.
"I'm going to be a real and honest wrestler," Corys voice was full of drive and real dreaming with each word, "I'm going to be like Benoit or Kurt Henning! Maybe big and dominate like Goldberg or just a good old boy Dusty Rhodes. I want nothing else but to be loved by the fans as they chant my name all around the world."
Slick rolled over looking at his best friend, "I'll be your manager or your partner! We going to do it big brother."
Jury pulled himself away from the memory. A single tear rolled down his face. Now he could never make his father proud because he was dead, the world would never know Cory Benjamin Steel because he was a greedy murderer on the run, and he'd never have a true partner because his best friend was dead. All they'd know is Jury a cold unemotional robot living in the shadow of Judge. PCW was already denying him a chance to go after either the North American title or International title, instead his brother and he were fighting for tag-team titles.
The open cool air felt good against his face. The roaring engine echoed through the woods as he geared up the mountain and through the curves. Jury liked that he still shared a connection with Cory when it came to being on his bike.
His mind wandered back to his upcoming match at Trauma, did they have a chance against The Unholy Alliance? Tag team legends in PCW. They held their own against them at Deadly Intentions but that was in his and Judge's environment. Now they were being forced to play fairly with tag-team technicians. Their bond was strong. Judge's and Jury's bond was still being tested but each time it held true and they could in fact work together. It was simple for Judge and him, win this match. Suddenly out of nowhere a black truck pulls out in front of Jury stopping dead across both lanes. Jury lays the bike down before impacting with the truck and skids on his side a good 30 yards before stopping.
He was in a great deal of pain as he tries to get up mainly when he tried putting weight on his left arm. Looking at his arm he quickly finds out why, it was odd shaped from the top, and on the side he could see bone sticking out.
"You moron!" Jury belted in jis robotic voice at the truck whose tinted windows remained up, "Get out and we will settle this."
The door opens and a pair of duck taped boots step out onto the pavement, a second later a cigarette hits beside the right boot, and with his heel he puts it out. Jury's face was a mixture of confusion and pain, "Why do you look so familiar?"
"I was a friend once," said the stranger with his southern drawl oozing with every word, "But let's talk about that later and worry about getting you bandaged before your upcoming match."
THE MAN IN BLACK.
When Jury came to he was dazed and confused. He was sitting on the top turn buckle in a dark empty arena. The ring was empty or so he thought when a booming voice shook the room, "You are coming upon a cross roads Cory Steel. A choice to die or fight is knocking at the door."
Jury tried to get up but was glued to the turn buckle. The black robed man points at the center of the ring revealing himself at the same time, what he was pointing at was the Underground title that appeared from nowhere.
The arena was suddenly blessed with light when a door opens in thin air. Fire was on the inside of that room and flames lapped out from it but as soon as it was there it was just as quickly gone. It left behind the outline of a man on his knees and Jury felt he could move now so he jumped off the top rope walking slowly towards the man.
All he could end up seeing made his eyes narrow in confusion and the kneeling man screamed, "NO!"
Jury jerked awake on the couch he had fallen asleep on. He first was met with pain and then he saw his arm was casted purple. Jury wasn't wearing his mask either and his head hurt from it but he didn't have time to worry about that when the southern accent of a man spoke, "You talk like that in all your dreams friend?"
A BROTHER'S BOND
The two men sat across from each other eyes locked. Judge was clearly broken from his loss at Deadly Intentions and he wore his crimson mask still as a reminder, his eyes were glazed over from the chair shots, color drained from his face from his brutal time in the Deadly Rumble, and still yet he managed to crack a smile with his swollen lips. Jury removed his mask dropping it on the floor of the locker room, "I can't express my level of proudness for you brother," his voice was cracked still from his unknown time with The Saints and each word spoken was strained with effort, "The way I see it Wasp never beat the true champion, no, the true King. You are still King in my eyes and in the eyes of our club so lift your head brother."
Judge sat quietly for a minute stewing on his brothers words but each time he went to speak he just closed his mouth. Jury shook his head, "I've never found you at a loss of words. I say take note at what you did accomplish tonight the endurance of two matches and the second match no doubt was a true feat brother. Lasting as long as you did against the string of strong competitors for YOUR first Deadly Rumble."
"Wasp," Judge finally spoke crusts of blood blowing off his lips, "Wasp, Wasp, Wasp."
Judge stood up repeating The new Underground Kings name and walking past his brother. Jury went to chase Judge but Victor Creed entered the room pushing Jury back, "Give him space," Victor looked back out the door making sure no one else was following and shut the door, "We got to talk about him anyways. Did you hear the news about the massacre in Kentucky?"
Jury cocked an eyebrow shaking his head and so Victor continued, "It was in Frankfort where we was supposed to have that meeting," Victor is on his phone using his finger to scroll through pages of news until he found what he was talking about then handed the phone to Jury, "Did you know about this? Did you give the fucking go on this?"
Jury scanned the article his eyes narrowing into fury, "No, this was supposed to be a peaceful meeting to exchange weapons for money."
Victor sighed as he pulled out his tobacco pipe firing the pipe up puffing furiously, "He is a loose cannon Jury! Worse than even you and by that I mean he has left a call sign on the bodies in the shape of a hand, a black hand. That part hasn't been released to the public but Skinny Pete was there and that's what he did after he murdered two dozen men! To pin murder on the Black Hand while you're trying to make peace, I mean what the Hell?"
"He had reasons I am sure," Jury said with no thinking taking the shoulders of Victor, "I stand beside him."
Victor looked at Jury with defeated eyes, "First you agree to not seek the Underground title for him, then you allow him to go against your ruling about the weapons distribution, and now you are letting him get away with fucking with the Black Hand. Where does it end? This is going to end with you a knife in the back."
"Would it be the first?" Jury said dryly and stepped away from Victor when PCW security came running by the locker room. They followed and finally found five men wrestling with Judge on the ground as he shouted crazily, "I AM THE FIFTH REVELATION! I AM THE FIFTH REVELATION!"
THE LOST BOY.
Jury was burning up the back roads of Kentucky taking in the beautiful fall colors. Since his transformation he'd found himself lost truly putting his life blindly into Judge's hands. His life had spun so far out of control he highly doubted he'd ever get it in line again, it was beginning to scare him. Before he could just snap, do something violent, and in the end be rebalanced. Now he couldn't trigger that rage anymore inside or outside the ring. A memory rushed back to him:
It was a warm sunny day in the country of the state known as New York, two boys laid on their backs in the grass cooling down after they had pretend wrestled with each other. It was a young Cory and Slick Will, "What you going to be one day Cor?" Slick asked blinking his eyes shut because of the sun.
"I'm going to be a real and honest wrestler," Corys voice was full of drive and real dreaming with each word, "I'm going to be like Benoit or Kurt Henning! Maybe big and dominate like Goldberg or just a good old boy Dusty Rhodes. I want nothing else but to be loved by the fans as they chant my name all around the world."
Slick rolled over looking at his best friend, "I'll be your manager or your partner! We going to do it big brother."
Jury pulled himself away from the memory. A single tear rolled down his face. Now he could never make his father proud because he was dead, the world would never know Cory Benjamin Steel because he was a greedy murderer on the run, and he'd never have a true partner because his best friend was dead. All they'd know is Jury a cold unemotional robot living in the shadow of Judge. PCW was already denying him a chance to go after either the North American title or International title, instead his brother and he were fighting for tag-team titles.
The open cool air felt good against his face. The roaring engine echoed through the woods as he geared up the mountain and through the curves. Jury liked that he still shared a connection with Cory when it came to being on his bike.
His mind wandered back to his upcoming match at Trauma, did they have a chance against The Unholy Alliance? Tag team legends in PCW. They held their own against them at Deadly Intentions but that was in his and Judge's environment. Now they were being forced to play fairly with tag-team technicians. Their bond was strong. Judge's and Jury's bond was still being tested but each time it held true and they could in fact work together. It was simple for Judge and him, win this match. Suddenly out of nowhere a black truck pulls out in front of Jury stopping dead across both lanes. Jury lays the bike down before impacting with the truck and skids on his side a good 30 yards before stopping.
He was in a great deal of pain as he tries to get up mainly when he tried putting weight on his left arm. Looking at his arm he quickly finds out why, it was odd shaped from the top, and on the side he could see bone sticking out.
"You moron!" Jury belted in jis robotic voice at the truck whose tinted windows remained up, "Get out and we will settle this."
The door opens and a pair of duck taped boots step out onto the pavement, a second later a cigarette hits beside the right boot, and with his heel he puts it out. Jury's face was a mixture of confusion and pain, "Why do you look so familiar?"
"I was a friend once," said the stranger with his southern drawl oozing with every word, "But let's talk about that later and worry about getting you bandaged before your upcoming match."
THE MAN IN BLACK.
When Jury came to he was dazed and confused. He was sitting on the top turn buckle in a dark empty arena. The ring was empty or so he thought when a booming voice shook the room, "You are coming upon a cross roads Cory Steel. A choice to die or fight is knocking at the door."
Jury tried to get up but was glued to the turn buckle. The black robed man points at the center of the ring revealing himself at the same time, what he was pointing at was the Underground title that appeared from nowhere.
The arena was suddenly blessed with light when a door opens in thin air. Fire was on the inside of that room and flames lapped out from it but as soon as it was there it was just as quickly gone. It left behind the outline of a man on his knees and Jury felt he could move now so he jumped off the top rope walking slowly towards the man.
All he could end up seeing made his eyes narrow in confusion and the kneeling man screamed, "NO!"
Jury jerked awake on the couch he had fallen asleep on. He first was met with pain and then he saw his arm was casted purple. Jury wasn't wearing his mask either and his head hurt from it but he didn't have time to worry about that when the southern accent of a man spoke, "You talk like that in all your dreams friend?"
