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Head above the dead...

+-World Wrestling Generation Chat
October 17, 2022, 02:23:05 pm The Wretched Nobody says: https://youtu.be/cjXLAeaV07o
March 23, 2022, 12:12:04 pm J-Dub says: Just popping in to leave my message that I actually visited again
December 07, 2021, 10:21:41 am Doug says: December 6th 2021. Been a long ass **** time. I miss the lot of ya. Hope everyone is doing well in their own stuff right now.
August 15, 2020, 05:29:37 pm Rayven_ says: ph34r....
July 29, 2020, 10:48:23 am Steven James says: But it's okay, cuz who doesn't love bitches?
July 29, 2020, 10:47:02 am Steven James says: You're all a bunch of BITCHES
December 14, 2018, 01:10:05 am KXNG says: I miss this old place sometimes
December 08, 2018, 12:21:10 pm NudeKoreanModelWhoSpeaksPortuguese says: din javla fitta
October 30, 2018, 12:41:30 pm J-Dub says: I just realized that I must of spent a lot of time here because i added 3 other hobbies.
October 22, 2018, 09:47:51 am Moonchild says: Ultimate Online Wrestling

To anyone who is interested…


Ultimate Online Wrestling is currently looking to expand its roster this year for Season 2 of our heavily story driven E-Fed that sort of reads and feels like a comic book. We’ve been open for 14 months and have posted 12 well written shows on the SteemIt platform. We have over 1600 followers on there and we use the platform to make a little money from the hobby that we love. We are a laid back E-Fed for adults and we only do about 1 show a month. There is a 2 Role Play limit per show with no word limit on individual role plays.


We are a unique E-Fed in that I reward my role player’s with the Crypto-Currency XP Coin which can be converted into Bitcoin on online exchanges. We also write and do our shows in a way that concentrates on an actual audience that reads our work on the SteemIt community network. So our work isn’t just consumed by people involved in the E-Fed, but also fans of our work on SteemIt and Twitter.


If you’re interested joining our roster and learning how we do things at Ultimate Wrestling you can join our discord channel link below. Our roster and staff are very friendly and willing to answer any questions you might have.


Discord Channel: r/https://discord.gg/mj6Msrf


Below are some of our shows so that you can get a feel for my writing style and our story-lines.


https://steemit.com/fiction/@ultimatewrestlin/ultimate-online-wrestling-ch-4-friday-night-clash-episode-1


https://steemit.com/fiction/@ultimatewrestlin/ultimate-online-wrestling-ch-8-ultra-slam-pay-per-view-event


https://steemit.com/fiction/@ultimatewrestlin/ultimate-online-wrestling-ch-11-friday-night-clash-7
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Author Topic: Head above the dead...  (Read 139 times)
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The Wretched Nobody
Hand in hand until the edge of Oblivion.
Creative Team
Veteran
*****

Karma: 331
Offline Offline

Gender: Male
Wrestler: The Wretched Nobody
Hometown: The Danvers State Lunatic Asylum, Salem Massachusetts
Weight: 344 lbs
Height: 6ft. 11in.
Finishers: Lobotomy, Trephination.  Sedative, Creeping in the Dark
W/L/D Record: You keep track if you really want to know - I'm busy winning matches.
Posts: 2345


Down for Life, Marked past Death!



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« on: August 11, 2016, 04:42:52 pm »

Marcus Collins(c) vs Wretched Nobody vs Abram Adams vs Trine Larsen

The scent of warm festering wafts up in trickles of steam from the cold ground.  Decay and stillness hang in the chest deep fog that form around a lonely, tattered WWG wrestling ring; oddly set up in the middle of a knoll settled valley filled with mossy, weather smoothed, crack covered epitaphs and headstones.  As the clouds part the moon revealed a few bats scantily flutter through the drifting fog - their chirps cut the silence of the crisp night air.  A flickering swarm of fireflies expose Grace as she walks into view from around the side of the ring.

::Grace Brutal::Once again a find ourselves outside that great haunted house that Nobody built… he's crafted a monolithic structure of ground bones and spilled blood mortared between skulls and vertebrate - he's draped it with the flesh of non-believers and the unfortunately placed mediocre hordes. And he's woven the canvas for the hairs he's made stand erect from the follicles of the Boldest and Bravest amongst those he's faced…  Yes… Many souls have stepped up to his level - and they leave woefully inadequate… Reaped and counted.  He's the creator of broken dreams… and he is absolutely unstoppable.

No… Not in the sense of being unbeatable - but instead in the first definition - the truest meaning of the word… He. Will. Not. Stop!  And he's got an evil ambition in mind… Souls are set for the Slaughter, kiddies…. The Butcher has sharpening his tools… and he's been building his insatiable, unquenchable thirst for Blood. 


The fireflies disperse as we see the shadowy legs of a figure looming inside the ring.  Grace tilts her head just enough to hide the last stride behind a devilish come-hither smile.  She licks her luscious, vein strewn, near candy floss pink tongue across her blizzard white teeth, with a sensual roll of her crystal blue eyes she brings her head back to center.

::Grace Brutal::Mmmm… the taste of Pain is ever so delectable.  Yet the flavour of Success is even better… And there's nothing else as savoury as running your tongue over Gold…. Nothing - that is…. Except for the Demise of Opposition.

So… As the time of death approaches, this prayer may be useful if said…

Go forth, meager soul, from this world in the name of the almighty, Living embodiment of Suffering, one who suffered for you, because of you - and in Spite… Of each and every one of you.  His is the name of the Holy Severity, HE was poured out upon you, to go forth, above and beyond you faithful Former Champions. May you live in peace this day, may your home be with You in Zion, with those you've cherished, reliving memories that bring you both bliss and joy - forever contented among all the Angels and Saints.

In your hands, O Wretch, we humbly entrust our brothers and sister. In this life you embraced them with your tender love; deliver them now from every evil they've yet to commit - and bid them eternal rest.

The old order has passed away: HE was there to welcome them into his paradise of pain, where there will be nothing but sorrow, no mercy for weeping or pleas, but fullness of peace and joy with your Son of the Wholly Suffering - forever and ever…. Amen.


With that - Grace bows her head taking a moment of silence for those about to be felled.  Behind her, in the ramshackle wrestling ring we can again see a massive figure huddled in a corner.  Rocking back and forth, swaying to the arithmetic beats of his own depravity - until his long arms jut out and grab the top rope - bringing him quickly to his feet.  He rocks to and fro from foot to foot, his long ratty hair dangling in tangles from his silhouetted head.  Grace lifts her gaze and again hides the figure that haunts the ring.

::Grace Brutal::A Time to Shine is an apt title for the venue in which you three lose.  The gleam cast off that shine… Is the very darkness from which he'll emerge to devour you all.  The Wretched Nobody is hungry - and his appetite is ravenous.  A feast made of three of the top ranked competitors in WWG today. A three course meal of failure… Don't worry my pets - the Dogs always get some leftovers.  I'll make sure The Wretched Nobody lets you eat your hearts out…

This is his chance to make history, Again.  See The Wretched Nobody isn't just another Star - he's a Game Changer!  He's unlike anything conceived by God and Man, he isn't dead - but he hasn't lived like the rest of us.  He harbours no fond memories of life.  He never grabbed a baseball glove and ball to play a little catch in the backyard with his old man.  He doesn't recall the aroma of mom making pancakes for Sunday brunch… He's got no idea what Gramma’s fresh baked cookies taste like… ALL he's known his plight and peril.  You cannot get inside his head, because if you did - you would curl up in a corner of his mind and cower in the fetal position, praying for any kind of way out.  This man daydreams in terms others call vivid nightmares… And all he wants is to do - is make me happy.

Yes, lady and gentlemen this being you belittle as an “animal” and a “monster” - is more selfless and willing to provide than any of you simple, selfish fucks.  You're all in this for personal gain - all hoping to walk away being able to temporarily refer to yourself as “the best” when you'll know… Out there, somewhere in the darkest nooks and crannies lurking… Is a Beast, a Predator, a Maniac with one ambition in mind….. *in joyous bliss, Grace inhales deeply as her eyelids flutter as her lungs fill to the brim to ensure she has enough to clearly and concisely say;* …..Bringing Me whatever I want.  An ideal man is a provider, an ideal man is selfless, an ideal man is unlike any other and he doesn't need the approval of base model motherfuckers like Fifty percent of this match is composed of - to validate his interests.

For months now he's walked the line - Nobody has tried, the Gods had mercy when The Wretched Nobody tried to be humane, and tried to be compassionate.  Alas… A venture to understand the world he wasn't meant to be a part of, was a dash towards madness.

Doesn't that leave those rare and curious minds to wonder?  Do none of you ponder the concept - how could he Go Mad, when he was raised in a house of madness? 

He has no point of reference for the kindnesses he attempted to bestow upon The WWG - kindness that was taken advantage of and greeted with contemptuous exploit and ridicule.  Those days were surely heady for all of you… and we certainly hope your twenty-twenty hindsight is useful to you in looking back at what was your only opportunity to succeed.

You three represent those to have held the title since it was his.  In winning this match, My Beautiful Wretch will erase all doubts that ANYONE stands equal to Nobody, in The WWG.  This match may be called “A Time To Shine”... but the stage is Revolution - and it's time the World Wrestling Federation tilts its axis back to the dark side.  Oh the seasons are changing and there are dark clouds forming on the horizon - and the swirling storm of his hatred is going to pour down upon everyone!


Heat lightning crackles through the clouds in the sky, the soft gray clouds darken as their edges are hardened against the silhouette they cast.  Grace turns her gaze up as a resounding roll of thunder rumbles through the atmosphere, one so low and deep it can be felt reverberating through your chest.  Grace traces her fingertips over the peaks and valley of her voluptuous cleavage; as if excited by the power.

::Grace Brutal::Mmmmmmmm…. All that power of nature, and yet it pales in comparison to the feeling of leaning against a ring apron as Wretch slams some pour soul, helplessly into it.  Yes… There are joys you just can't see on tv or in the front row.  And some of those joys can't even be pleasurable when taken first hand… it's those things I hold sacred.  It's my safety in the knowledge that Nobody will break and batter anyone he has to - just to make me happy… Just to give me what I want.


Grace steps away from the ring and wanders casually through the tombstones - among them are names we’re unfamiliar with yet we begin to see some we do know. 

Trine Larsen is embossed on one gleaming blue granite {We flash back to The Wretched Nobody mercilessly slamming her body into steel steps like a rag doll.}

Myseria carved hard and deep in a weather dulled stone. {We see the original WWG reboot champ scale the ropes and springboard off the top rope aiming for Alex Anders on the outside when The Wretched Nobody catches him in the skull from mid-air with his Creeping in the Dark kick.}

Christian on a rustic wooden cross, decayed from seasons and neglect, worms wriggling through bore holes. {We see Christian hoisted up into the air inside a bloody cell as he comes down on the shoulder of Nobody who delivers a One Arm Lobotomy with his other shoulder visibly dislocated.}

The rumbling sounds of someone large running the ropes in the ring just out of view - the camera, now trained on Grace; snaps towards the empty ring. Grace who was a few dozen yards away when we seen her last - suddenly walks in front of the ring alongside the apron again.

::Grace Brutal::So, So many heroes have come and gone.  So many challengers have fallen… You can name almost any name in WWG and The Wretched Nobody has defeated them.

Abram Adams… That's a name I can assure you - he wants to make immortalized in memoriam among all these others you see.  Adams is one of the few here can brag of never having lost to The Wretched Nobody… but he can never say he's won clean.  And The Wretched Nobody, as unusual, as diabolical, as depraved, and as violent as he can ever be… Time and Again he has Won Clean.  He doesn't leave controversy… He doesn't leave questions… He just leaves broken bodies and shattered spirits.

You've tried to analyze him and failed.  You've tried to understand him and failed.  You've tried to get in his head…. And not only did you fail… You were wise enough to have retreated.  You may be diagnosable and systematically charismatic - but you are just a man.  A skillful one… A resilient one… But still just a regular man.  Mentally complex as you may be… You know, man!  You KNOW - once he gets his hands on you…. Everything he does Hurts!  Strong a spirit as you've shown us all you have - he Breaks Bodies and a Spirit without a Body is just a Ghost…. and you've always got unfinished business, don't you Abram?  You are that point where Zen meets Chaos… you sir are that fine line between genius and insanity and my, my, my - I do find that ever so adorable about you.  You're feisty… I like that… It means you will not go quietly into that cold lonely darkness.  Men like you, Adams… Men who actually have hopes to cling to - you're always the most fun to watch be destroyed.  You won't give up when enough is enough.  You won't quit when you've nothing left to give…. You'll just keep on, keeping on - and maaaaaan you’re going to keep on being put back down on the ground.  Not out of disrespect, nor hatred, nor distaste for you and who you are.  The Wretched Nobody would very simply like to watch you lose.  Turnabout is fair play and all that, right Adams?  You know all too well what it is to be the kind of man who will go to any lengths to get exactly what he wants.

Though you never have learned what it's like to be the kind of man who has been backed up to an inch, in a corner when all your lengths are taken away from you… and that, Mister Adams… Is the truest test of metal, the greatest measure of a man is the one taken when he has nothing.  And Nobody has taken the stunning amount of Nothingness that life has offered him - and he's woven that pig fur into the finest golden silks.

Will you too, Mister Adams?  Or will you face your defeat with all the disgruntled, childish fear of Trine Larsen?


In the distance we can hear wolves howling, thoughts of them immediately evoke ideas of teeth and claws.  Predators who kill at will, yet the truth is they are simply Wiley cowards.  They live in fear, that's why they hunt in packs.  One on one, they're just a big, mangy dog.

::Grace Brutal::The Wretched Nobody is rarely wrong… Because unlike Kings he doesn't make proclamations he has no intent of keeping.

No, when he says he's going to do something - he doesn't send someone else to do it.  He doesn't willfully surround himself with an entourage of Yes Men and Peons… because unlike Adams… The Wretched Nobody is an actual predator… Not just a scavenger running in a pack where he assumes the role of Alpha once the feast is laid out - with life draining from its eyes.  Just like the hope is going to drain from yours when The Wretched Nobody stands above you leaving you broken in defeat.

Marcus Collins may have fought God and won…. But WWG will always remember the night The Wretched Nobody Killed God!  Yes what a wonderful day that was when a debunked deity was dethroned… Not in win or loss but in sheer, brutal beating - so much so, in fact  he has refused to even acknowledge that time in his life any longer.

The Wretched Nobody may once in awhile venture off and be confronted by a situation that is atypical for him… But unlike many of you - he's got the compunction to ALWAYS BE what he is, despite the wins or losses, in spite of the detractors, he remains true to himself.

Trine… Time and again, you prove yourself to be as full of fantasies, piety, fraudulence and lies - as you are of yourself.  You can act like you're the hottest thing going on any WWG Broadcast, Hail yourself as One True Sensation of a Generation!

Oh Trine……. it was all so, so fleeting wasn't it?  Soon people will figure out that you are to WWG - what the Twilight saga was to vampirism…. What 50 Shades of Grey was to the Bondage, Domination, and Sadomasochistic subculture. 

...You are initially potent and noticeable… but once everyone realizes how trite and generic you really are - the novelty fades, and all the adoring public are left with is some typical, watered down, after thought of a concept that actually once held some purpose the masses could get behind… an essence of something that once had some meaning to people.

You act like you are the moral voice of the people - and really Trine… you are just another hashtagging trend for the empty headed.  You aren't special, Trine - you are just another loudmouth for a brain dead flock who would rather waste their time, thinking their cheering for something different when all they're doing is ingesting rehashed, self indulgent garbage from a woman too broken, weak and callow to recognize how weak and frightened she truly is.  Reality is a terrifying path to follow in life, Trine… And I wonder if you haven't woven your own selfish views so many times, in so many ways - that you've lost all sight of where it all even began in the first place.

No one should be surprised though… “Good” is notoriously powerless, meaningless and self suiting…. Just like you, Trine.  Your legacy here will not be chiselled in granite and timeless… It will be carved hastily into dozey driftwood - soon to be deteriorated and forgotten… As purposeless a marker in the addles of WWG’s history as anyone of your esteem is worth.

The fans don't love you… They don't even care about you anymore.  You're an easy pop.  A catchy reason for a sparse few of the bodies in the stands to chant in unison.  Any other competitor can illicit the same reactions, or better… Yet you act like you rise up the mob.  See…. Trine… The Wretched Nobody may wear a mask - but you hide behind falsehoods, scams, and fake identities.  Do YOU even know who you are anymore?  The Wretched Nobody does… He knows all too well - and he will use that knowledge as a weapon… He Will break you again, Trine… He ripped a God from on high, He's destroyed The Future, Abolished a Franchise, Ended a Legend and he has brought Kings among Men to their knees… All of it done in the name of enlightenment.  The world isn't the happy place you want everyone to think Trine…. And I'm afraid it's time you were reminded of that.


Three massive black Vultures swoop in and settle one on the apron just beside Grace, and two on the top turnbuckles.  Their dead, red beady eyes peer through the soul as their ugly heads flick and rear in different directions to keep you well within focus.  Grace reaches out slowly and strokes the head of the nearest raptor.

::Grace Brutal::The stench of death is in the air…. they can already tell.  Yet you'll stay stubborn and walk around for more hours and days - you'll push inevitabilities and wait until you're in the ring with him, won't you Trine?

You know… Somehow you could perhaps save some dignity by running away, by stamping your feet and throwing your tantrum pretending what's happened isn't real.  Hindsight is twenty-twenty because you need to look back at your own mistakes and missteps, Trine.  Maybe you should do that instead of always doing it to everyone else…. Though I don't believe that in all your painfully meaningless pointing out everything obvious about everyone else, you ever do much of it for yourself.

Don't you worry your simple little sheep brain… among the weak minded you might be the leader of a hapless flock… But sharp teeth and sharp claws of predators who lurk in the darkness - can, and will still sink into your flesh as easily as anyone who wants to consider you their alpha.

You're Not Special, Trine.  You're a chicken cliche, wrapped in mimicry marinated bacon…. At best your portions of things that were once alive.  Now…. Now you're just a few hunks of flesh, well presented perhaps - but altogether uninspired… typical… And bland.


The other two huge birds jump down to the apron - Grace extends her arms - offering each of them a bloody, gory chunk of meat.  The one face to face with her works it's beak inside her mouth, pulling it's own piece out with a pour of blood that cascades over Grace’s chin.  The back of Grace’s hand draws through the red plasma even as it continues to trickle over her bottom lip.

::Grace Brutal::Can you taste your defeat yet?  Are you ready to embrace the slightly metallic taste of blood as it fills your mouth - halting you from screaming, or crying out for help.  I know he's ready to smirk at your muffled gurgling… And the sound of your skull bouncing off the canvas - compressing the vertebrae in your neck as he squashes your chances for redemption.

……..I am, Trine…. I am.  You should know - Every moment I have to see him put you through hell, I will revel in it!  I want to watch you weep, Trine.  I adore seeing you broken.  Because I know it takes a bite out of Rayven’s heart too… Hurting you hurts others, Trine - and I just love that about you.

Last night, I had a dream too, Trine… I dreamt I had brought a candle out to this very graveyard just to watch it burn. Handcrafted, warm vanilla, if it makes a difference. The whole scenario felt like something that should have been in a horror movie; a girl with a lit candle, walking alone to a graveyard at midnight. I sat down at a grave, none in particular, and set the candle down at the foot of the grave. I settled next to the candle, admiring the flame as it flickered it’s way down the wick. As I peered closer, I noticed the how intricate the wick really was. It was tightly woven, almost in a braid, with thin loops interlocking, joining together and splitting up to move in with other strands. I wondered who in the world would spend so much time hand weaving a tiny candlewick, just to have it later go up in flames.

I turned my attention away from the wick and focused on the flame. It illuminated the night like a flashlight would, if I had one. The flame danced as a light breeze blew it astray, just a bit; not enough to blow it out, and quickly it fell back in line as the wind passed, just as a soldier would get back up after falling. The color was almost too vibrant for the dim, gray night. I swear, there were only two or three stars in the sky that remained unhidden by the looming stormclouds.

Suddenly, I was tempted to burn something. Anything at all. I picked up a fallen leaf from the ground and teased the tip of the flame with the lifeless thing, tempting the flame to engulf it, but not giving it enough fuel to do it. I entertained myself like this for a few minutes before hastily throwing the leaf on top of the flame as watching it crumble into a pile of ashes. I ran my hand through my hair, searching for something else to singe. A few spare twigs and leaves were burnt, but I needed something more. I ripped off a few strands of my hair and scorched it. It wasn’t enough. I sacrificed my baggy t-shirt and jeans, yet I still wasn’t satisfied. Slowly, I reached towards the candle and touched the flame with my fingertips. The heat was scalding, but something felt right. It may have been the scent of the warm vanilla mixing with the smoldering flesh making me nauseous. I quickly pulled my fingers away and the deliria wore off almost instantly.
           
When I had decided it was time to go, I realized I was in my undergarments, and my clothes were in ashes on the ground. I decided to sleep at the church that night. I remember thinking “They’ll assume I was homeless, and give me a jacket or something.” But before doing anything, curiosity got the better of me, and I held the flickering flame up to the tombstone and read the name of whoever died.

And because all my dreams are sweet you just know that name was; Trine Larsen.

That was the perfect name to see there. A chill crawled up my spine as I blew out the candle and watched the smoke disappear into the pitch-black night…. Then I woke up and realized - that unlike yours… My Dream would become a reality all too soon.


Rows of tombstones stood erect in silence to the left and right, in front and behind, like a sea of the dead all around her and the ring. Some were crumbled with the weathering of centuries, some were smooth marble with new black writing and laid with floral tributes. Most though, were overgrown and unkempt, for now even their mourners had joined them under the clay soil. And upon the hill behind the ragged ring we see the fog clear - revealing three new graves, each dug to await its new occupant.

::Grace Brutal::Yes, Marcus… There's one he dug a hole deep enough for the Reaper too….

You knew you made the deal and you know I am one sexy devil, pretty boy.

You know the drill… May the best man win, bringing the belt back to us is the only thing that matters.  Blah, blah, blah - kindness is a frivolity I don't think I have to explain to you, that I don't take part in.  I would like for you to come away from the match standing - but let's not play coy… Everyone knows that I am not **** around.  I'm not going to be angry IF you win the match… But you know I'm going to be happy When… My Beautiful Wretch does.

It's nothing personal - it's just business, Marcus.  It's sullen and official… Tactical and purposeful.  If it happens to be that you get in his way… We're sorry for the outcome.  We all knew this could happen when we aligned the best in this day and age… but I don't wish you any harm- not like the others. 

You go into that ring alone just like Wretch, but keep in mind the advantage you both have… Don't forget he will be on your side in every facet aside from letting you win.  You will never get Him to bend to Your will… He does what I want, and worse yet - he does whatever He wants… and it has been kept no secret lately that he wants to be a Champion again!

I just hope that you stay out of his way…. Or at least maybe just get one of the dummy cases out of his way instead.  You know The Wretched Nobody will leave Adams, Larsen or even You absolutely disembowelled if he has to in order to win this match.  Business is business and our overall interest is merely that One of Ours brings that belt back…. but we couldn't have a group of The Best if we didn't have members who value success.

The Wretched Nobody has experienced facing his own - just like you have Collins.  He's no stranger to stranger stipulations… Facing his own Brother was one that should have surely hit close to home.

He had to contend against his own flesh and blood, a member of The Family… you were there, Marcus… You bore witness to the awe inspiring massacre - a display of unconventional brutality and endurance that this company has yet to witness since.  A war that would have embattled any other person the instant it was booked and long after it had been completed - but you know, Marcus… You know - It didn't phase him in the slightest.  He demolished his own brother and walked away wearing a smile.

He will dismantle each and every one of you - with a smile on my face.


Gravestones lined the eerie graves so recently placed. The fact that they were left  Awaiting bodies is what sets them apart whereas others were left  cracked, and crumbling. Mould covered the engravings dedicated to the dead, trees leaning towards the stones, branches reaching out to each other.  Through the damp air rises the giggles that evolve into the utterly insane cackling of a madwoman.  Grace's bright white smile cuts sharply through the murky, morbid night.

::Grace Brutal::The best part is!  Everyone thinks this match is going to end things.  It ends Nothing!  I will send My Monster after whoever may prove unfortunate enough to actually pull that championship case.

Oh - How deeply I hope it's Trine, if it's not one of The Syndicated…  I would love nothing more than to get to be ringside this time when My Beautiful Wretch puts a stranglehold on her bubbly spirit.  I crave the moment her oceanic blue eyes lock onto mine and the righteous contempt within them is the last thing she sees before her body betrays her - and she succumbs to the darkness creeping in from the periphery of her vision.  That's my best of a bad outcome… yet that's one of the benefits of being absolutely bat **** crazy, isn't it? 

I can truly enjoy a moment like that for the entire scope of its horror and euphoria… mmmm…. I can even see the art in the degradation of the soul and the crushing sorrow in the eyes of a hero, even before a single bristle of agony paints itself upon the canvas.  And oh - how my Monster is about to create…. Create a Masterpiece for the Ages!


Long crackling Gravel paths weave through the expansive maze of graves, allowing passers by to pay their respects to the people lined up in the earth's embrace.  A procession of three bleak black hearse slowly wended their way down into the central lane each followed by a glossy black limousine.  Their headlights silhouette the massive form of a pacing madman in the ring, hidden behind the condensation lurking in the ring.  They pull up and surround the ring and the morbid scene around it.

₩retched Nobody> Life is but a roaming shadow, a pitiable thespian who struts and frets his few moments upon the stage, and then is heard no more. It is a tale imparted by a foolish wit, full of noise and fury... yet meaningless nonetheless. A beautiful lie. A depressing truth. Beyond the hedgerows and white picket fences, a darkness awaits....

Dreams and bones are made to be shattered… All your Hope for now, is but hope yet to be taken away by my hands.


==The smell of old stone filled the damp air, weeds covering the graves of the dead that loved ones long since stopped visiting, or had come to rest nearby.  Spiked, black iron fences surrounded the graveyard almost like it was a prison.  It just made me feel more secure, it comforts me to know that any restless souls here are contained and walking around.  How many of them wish they could climb up to grab for salvation like I will at Revolution in the Time to Shine match?==

The silhouette stops and turns towards the hard camera side - we can see the tangled webs of unkempt hair tilt side to side as he takes a long, calm look around at the sacred ground and grave markers around him.  Then he turns his eyes towards the camera and we see them gleam through the hazy night like those of a nocturnal predator.

₩retched Nobody> How could a place be so full and empty at the same time? All around are the tombstones with their faded etching, a roll-call for the people who cannot answer. For when their bodies became still and cold - they became a cadaver, not a person. Their soul, their living being had moved on to God, to walk with Jesus and be healed. I stand with in the watery light of the early morning, living, breathing, my life stretching ahead. Whatever I came here for is not here. This graveyard is never full; albeit full of stone, moss, yew trees and the decaying remnants of bone and flesh.  Alas - it's empty….. There's just Nobody here.  Soon it will be home to the three of you, and your desire to ascend the ladder in an attempt to take from me - What has Always been Mine.


Only now do the vultures flap their wings as a breeze goes blowing through their nasal cavity - the slightest whistling harmonious with the clearing ring that the infamous monster can now be seen walking to the front of.  The big buzzard in the middle hops out of the way as Grace climbs up elegantly onto the apron.  The Wretched Nobody opens the ropes for her like any loving gentleman would for the woman he loves and once beyond the threshold she takes her place next to the great personification of malice she so fervently adores.

₩retched Nobody> The equation is simple… Eight point two-five percent…. Those are the odds when Four of us fight for three cases - if chosen wrong the wrestler is removed from eligibility along with the defunct opportunity.    Sixteen point Six-Six-Six percent… Three of us left after two cases - if chosen wrong a second time another’s dreams are dashed and yet another option is lost.  And we are reduced to Fifty-Fifty when only two remain standing with no choice but to Rise… to crawl up from the sweat, blood, tears, filth, and mire surely smeared across the canvas… Reaching higher and higher on rungs that seem to grow further away from the certain hope at the top with every grasp.  Hope will seem so far away then… Because The Darkness will still be there.  The Devourer of GODS will still be there!  Standing and Ready to drag you back down to a stark reality and put any of you on the very ground where you would rather I’d have stayed…

Be you a sensation, a manipulator or the Reaper himself… You will be torn apart in the depths of the Darkness.  I WILL become your deepest phobia… I am the gateway to oblivion… And…. I am not going to Revolution to Fail!  In this Time to Shine everything will go in cycles… Everything once given to light, will turn back towards darkness once more.  I have given enough time for the light.  You have had your time to flourish - and now I'm going to bring with me another much darker age than ever before.

Beware… Brace yourselves - A long cold season of suffering is going to begin again at Revolution… I'm going to reclaim my place at the apex of this company, and this time my humanity shall not be my downfall.  This time I will not wane from my purpose… I will not try to show mercy again - nevermore will I relent upon my journey to spread suffering across the mangled face of this company.  I made my mistake… I accept that - I am penitent over it and I assure you that I am going to rectify it with extreme prejudice, and unmitigated disdain. 

All of us face life challenges… And recently mine has been enduring this more jovial side of WWG that has taken over since I have stepped away from the world championship and made my mark as one of the greatest champions this federation has ever known.  Pie in the sky is indeed the most expensive sort - and I promise, Trine.  I promise, Abram…. And yes… I promise, Marcus.  I will ensure that when each of you reach up - when any of you even try to elevate yourselves above me…. It will cost you…. And it Will cost you dearly.


Grace steps around behind The Wretched Nobody her right hand traces across his chest, around his hulking shoulder and soon drags tenderly over his back as she slithers her way under his right arm in a casually comfortable, loving embrace.

::Grace Brutal::I’m the only person who is safe in his embrace.

₩retched Nobody> And forever shall you remain.

::Grace Brutal::I wouldn't have it any other way - aside from seeing the World Wrestling Generation Heavyweight Championship draped over that other shoulder, handsome.

==I could feel the squeeze - I knew she wanted me to win.  But little did she know that I have not wanted it this badly since it was my reason for uttering my first words aloud.  I am forlornly drawn towards it and I will not give up this opportunity availed to me.  I've already waited too long… I've already sacrificed too much time - and I have no worldly idea how much of it I even have… and to think I let so much of it trickle between my fingers without clenching my cold, callous hands around it to strangle everything out of it that I could. 

It's no secret that I don't feel pain but I feel, feelings; however dulled and numbed as they seem to be compared to other’s.  And I feel like I'm not going to let any more of that precious time slip away from me.  I wasn't born to be a ruler or a king… I was born to show normal men that their normality is what makes them weak.  I was born to show everyone that they too are Nothing better than Wretched Victims… All just waiting for your turn to be engulfed by the nothingness.
==


₩retched Nobody> There is no light at the end of this tunnel…. Win… And I'll pursue the next champion to the ends of the Earth.  Lose…. And I become the force to be reckoned with in order to get your weak hands on My Title!  Become a Champion…. and all you gain is becoming the purpose of My Wrath!  I will hunt you down and hurt you over, and over, and over again until I get what I want.

There is accolade but I assure you that there is no Winning this match for any of you three… belts of finest leather and plates of precious metals are going to be no consolation for the burden I will weigh upon you.  The Owl, the raptor of the night… is coming back to Carnage… and I will carry it into that ring upon My shoulder once again.

Ask not for salvation for there is none to be had.  Fool yourselves not into believing ANYTHING ends at Revolution… I'm not interested in ending anything, anymore… I am interested in but the beginning of a new dark time in WWG.  The time when you ALL see that the freak, the monster, and the man who you’ve all taken your shots at - stands as the New and Three Time WWG Champion!

I was not put on this earth to elevate a single one of you damned people - I was put here as an equalizer… I was put here as a reminder that whenever you try to succeed something will always drag you back…. I am the inevitability of plight and strife.  I am the drought that comes with summer and the floods that follow the relief of torrential rains.  I am the tarnish on your silver linings… I am The Wretched Nobody and I am going to become the next Champion of WWG… Or one of you is walking away from Revolution with a demon treading on your shadow.


::Grace Brutal::The only way to win is to assume the burden of despair...

The heat lightning dazzles the dreary cloud filled sky - and instigates four crackling bolts to strike all four ring posts the flux of ionic force causes the headlights and engines of all six procession cars to shut off.  The cars all turn over again and flood the ring in halogen light again; but it's empty.  The camera pans around in panic looking for the vile pair… and in the mid-distance we can see them standing by the three empty graves.  The Wretched Nobody grabs a shovel and begins moving dirt into the grave marked for Abram Adams.

₩retched Nobody> Abram Adams… you have been able to evade your fate for some time now.  I imagine you've enjoyed it…. But that time is over now, Adams.  I'm coming to correct a misstep from the elimination match when Rayven helped you take the title from me. *As he continues to throw heaps of dirt into Adams’ open grave he doesn't make eye contact with the camera - instead he focuses on his work and his words.*  I never was availed the opportunity I deserved… Because you aligned yourself with the management - the same who ultimately turned on you.  You got in bed with vipers and then acted surprised when you were bitten?  You're very foolish for such an intelligent individual… I relied on family with no loyalty - you demanded upon followers who viewed you as being more than you are.  And once you fell from the pedestal you built for yourself - you realized that you engineered yourself no way to climb back up…. and now…. Now, I intend to knock that pedestal over once and for all - I will demolish it, Adams… and like I had to you will just have to rebuild and redesign your own way back to the top… Crawling on your hands and knees like an animal.  Down on all fours where you belong.  Like a Dog.  Humility is a feast I don't think you've had your fill of yet… prepare for a binge on it at Revolution… where I will force feed you more than you can handle during the Time to Shine match…. MY Time to Shine.

And it is indeed mine, Abram… I am not going to fall short this time - I refuse to belly up to loss.  We are all confronted with our mortality from time to time but all I see here is a chance to etch my name into World Wrestling Generation’s immortality.  While you have made a career out of trying to convince everyone else that you're somehow elevated above them, that they are simply your toys to play with… I have spent my time here proving my worth to the company.  I bring in fans and hold their attention - I increase the bottom line when I headline events - I do not stand behind Anyone in this company.  I am a leader of the truest and only revolution this company has ever known.  I rally the uncommon, the unaccepted and the unusual.  I am a beacon of darkness within the limelight men like you chase after.

You are but the shadow of a clown… I am unlike anything or anyone who has ever stepped foot in a WWG ring.  This time I do not have anyone in that ring with me that I fully trust so with no family to double cross me - however do you plan to capitalize and repeat the past?  The fearsome fact of the matter is…. You simply can’t, Abram…


==Every time I think of his defeating me, I have to think about that sour, spoiled girl’s foot smashing into my face… I gave myself to my family and their well being without question and my undying loyalty was shot between the eyes and ended without mercy.  Adams revelled in his success until he too knew what being forsaken felt like.  No more cult followers, no more heroic doses of superiority…. He was left with nothing - not even a job here.  Now I have chance to take away whatever minuscule shred of desperate hope he thought he still had.  I pray he know the fear of prey… for The Predator is on his trail, regardless.
==


The Wretched Nobody thrusts the dulled spade deep into the lawn beside the grave and turns to face the camera.

₩retched Nobody> Your dreams of success aren't the only ones I’m going to bury, Adams.  Grace was all to right - if I hurt Trine… I hurt Rayven.  And you never would have gotten that win over me like you did if it hadn't of been for her.  My second championship reign would have lasted longer had Rayven kept her loyalty in mind before chasing after her impossible dreams woven around her meaningless career… One lived entirely in the shadows of so many others.  Rayven has shown us all she's so much less without Trine… and I have no problem stomping on the bird while she's already grounded.

Trine is a favourite of many, for many a good reason.  She's brave, she's enthusiastic, she's inveterable… She’s not going to get past ME. I have already shown her - her limits for pain are well below my will to impose it.  Wits can only take you so far in a match with so much cold, hard steel… And such a Savage on the Loose in there with you.  I like the sound your body makes when it collided with metal, Trine.  It's hollow and sharp, I can hear the bite being taken out of you… I love it.  It's so satisfying… It almost makes me salivate.  There is a succulence to the knowledge that I am going to

Make.

You.

SUFFER! 

...I don't want to see you succeed.  I am not one of your fabulous fans anymore Trine… I see you now…. I see you, girl.  And after taking a long hard look at the real you…. I'd rather see the Bombshell be diffused and left harmless in a heap of her own parts.

There is no sanctuary in this match… You cannot hide, you cannot run fast enough, you will be caught and I will get to hurt you really… Really…. Bad.  HA HA HA HA!  Grace took me to see that movie… The funny clown was my favourite.  He reminded me of us… Especially how he loved his harlequin heart throb… Harley Quinn.  I’ve learned so much inside that ring but Grace and Grace alone has made it more than a passing novelty to show me anything else about life outside the asylum.  It’s well known you admire our love, Trine… when so many would just like to mount you for their satisfaction… Grace has someone who looks to her with revere and admiration.  Her hair is a rich, thick mane of golden-spun flaxen silk. It flows in waves to adorn her glowing, porcelain-like skin. Her eyes, framed by the longest whip-like lashes, are a brisk midnight blue and they seem to brighten the dim world we all live in. A straight nose, perfect cheekbones and lusciously full lips - she is the picture of perfection. When she smiles, the world sighs with contentment. When she laughs, the world would laugh with her. And when she weep, the whole world would want to comfort her…. And I alone would seek her Vengeance!

Grace promised you the full extent of her wrath before… and she’s unleashing all of it through me at Revolution.  I am Hers and She is Mine and we are one, bound at the soul and entwined forever… It would please her, and make her smile to see you damaged and useless… And you know…. It always pleases me to make her smile.

There was a time the girl had my interest but I see how fake she is… A puddle of personality… Nothing like my Grace.  Born to be the stereotype thought unachievable to most - you have no better idea how to relate to the masses than I do.  Where Adams and I are opposite ends of many a psychiatric scale - you and I are the stark representations of genetics and fate…

I know suffering in ways your fragile little mind could never comprehend, Trine…. You are the epitome of everything I am not, and would never like to be.  I thought I saw in you a spark - a tinder of real emotions but no… You are an actress playing out every mise en scène in life as expected a way as could be possibly done.  You've she's fake tears, Trine… I've seen the clarity of them scrub away the wholesome exterior…. but come Revolution… My Wrathful Troth will be your most foreboding obstacles.  All your vivid dreams, and all your lazy schemes to coast through life are going to give you no solace once that bell rings.  Run little rabbit… Run.  Scamper around and hope the beast doesn't catch you… But You know I Will!  What neither of us know yet… Is exactly how deeply I am going to penetrate your soul when I rip into you.


==I notice the wriggling worms and scuttling insects burrowing in, around, and through the exposed layers of soil six feet deep.  These, the harbingers of decay.  The first to feast on those entombed in memoriam… how important they are, turning the buried back into the earth.  They await her - they crave her… I should feed them.  All they need is the corpse, her uncoiled leftovers from Revolution…. They don't ask for much - and they don't dream wild dreams… They just serve their purpose.  Unabated by looks, indifferent to personality… They just devour whoever is put in front of them - just like me… Just like I do.  They don't feel anything about it… They just do what they were put here to do.  Willful digestion of everything beautiful… ==

==A cold wind blew bitterly, the kind that would surely be chilling common men to their marrow. Overhead, dark clouds blotted out the full moon from time to time, casting the centuries old cemetery into an inky blackness, yet further a field, I could see the storm gathering. Lightning flashed in the distance and I hurried along with the chore that brought me out in the middle of the night.==

₩retched Nobody> Three must Fall so that One may Rise…



A fresh chill ran anew along your spine. Grayish white headstones dotted the landscape. Ghostly sentinels against those who would trespass this hallowed ground, against those who would dare disturb their eternal slumber. Everywhere you could have turned, a silence prevailed, yet not so silent that no noise at all spoke to your destabilized nerves. Amongst the trees, the wind whispered, called to you. A bush, its living green now dormant rattled against some unknown tombstone.

₩retched Nobody> In the end, at Revolution… For three of us at least, it’s an unapologetic and indisputable fact that we’re all headed to our final destination: six feet under - from the top of a ladder.

Death is a fear that ranks just below the ultimate horror of speaking in public in this strange, illogical world of ours; yet what’s truly terrifying will be your cadaver’s second, but tragic lease on life. Though it is coming - the grisliest things your body does as it breaks down to its component slimy bits — right before it becomes worm fodder.

Rigor mortis has enjoyed something of a cult-status among all its similarly disgusting counterparts — it’s the only stage of decomposition we hear about on television, presumably because it’s happens to be one of the most recognisable signs of death, and is pretty easy to spot: a dead person with arms or legs suspended spread-eagle or a gaping jaw might seem a tad unusual, but it happens to be quite a well-documented phenomenon.

Enter the cadaveric spasm…. Imagine if your corpse stiffened at the precise moment of death: yes, a cadaveric spasm leaves a lot of scary-looking people in its wake. It’s a pretty rare situation, but it usually occurs when a death is particularly violent and associated with intense physical exertion… So… It is possible on Revolution.

Every now and then, you’ll have a first responder happen upon an incident where the facial expressions and the gestures have essentially been crystallized. What makes an interesting lead for a pathologist and eventually criminal investigators makes scenes that leave many hope to pass away peacefully in their sleep.

Think it’s bad enough to be caught perched atop your marble throne after last night’s curry? Think again. Your real gastrointestinal - **** Gets Real, as they say… After I'm done ripping you three apart - your problems don’t end with the irritable bowel you developed after eating last month’s Chinese takeaway — they start after everything in your life is history.

We’re actually pretty lucky to have the indentured servitude of the bacterial multitudes in our GI during a lifetime. Sure, we’re less-than-chuffed when we pass gas at a swanky cocktail party, but our trusty gut flora works to stimulate cell growth and fight heroically against trespassers who’ve overstayed their welcome…  The problem is that when we’re dead, they don’t have the confines of our natural immune system and our structural defenses to tell them what they “can and can’t” do. Putrefaction is a word that, very aptly, sounds like what it describes: the process of decomposition as engineered by the bacteria that lives inside your body… See?  What chance do you have when you're already just waiting to turn on yourselves?

In case you’re reeling from the repercussions of that last sentence, let me break it down for you: you’re on the cusp of being eaten up from the inside out. It’s a veritable bacterial feeding frenzy that causes you to bloat, seep and ultimately explode.

Not the most pleasant thought… But an absolute reality sure to leave you all blue.  Much like the characteristic bluish appearance of a corpse is the unfortunate tell-tale sign we face when we’re sure that they’ve stopped ticking. Interring the dead into morgues is part-and-parcel of the medical profession; and all physicians convey that there’s stark difference in the appearance of skin immediately after an individual passes away.

It’s pretty obvious why this change occurs: the mighty heart that pushes around vast quantities of blood and thereby perfusing all the body’s tissues and organs with life-giving oxygen has stopped beating. The circulatory system is, well, no longer circulating.... And without this pump, the blood is much like you three up that ladder when I get my hands on you since it can do nothing to resist the flow of gravity — which is where lividity enters the scene.

The ever-stickier, coagulating red blood cells starts falling to the lowest point in the body - for example if you are lying down on the canvas, it’ll pool on the backside of your body. What’s more is that depending on the levels of haemoglobin the blood, the lack of circulation causes skin to assume varying intensities of colour called a “marbling” effect.

The most macabre thing you have to look forward to - I have saved for last: skin slippage. If you’re unlucky enough to happen upon somebody who hasn’t really been thought of in three weeks, you’ll see that their hair, skin and nails loosen and start to slip off.  Keep that in mind, with all your irreverent irrelevance, Adams.

It really is, philosophically speaking, one of the more finite stages of external tissue decay - that lovely interface we have between ourselves and the outside world where the skin bursts open and exposes all the muscle and fat lying hidden beneath it.

One final fact: skin slippage makes it possible to cut carefully around the wrist to remove the skin around the hand. Carefully inserting one’s own hand into this “glove” can create the fingerprints police and forensic investigators need if the deceased in question is unidentified… Much like a certain mask none of you should be eager to look in the eye on Revolution.

See…  Some people think I'm unhappy because I am usually more quiet than I am now…. but oh no I am not.  I just appreciate silence in a world that never stops talking - never stops talking - Never Stops Talking about Nothing!

But take heed you three…. after Revolution - they're all... THEY ARE ALL…. All going to be talking about Nobody!


The deafening silence following his cryptic hyperbole is pierced suddenly and without warning by the deathly shriek of a blackened crow. Again, it shrieks, and again. Like the screaming of a child or the roaring of some terrible beast, the presence of neither would seem strange in this place… We know for sure at least one of them stands before us within unending fog hangs on the stones of the dead like a heavy, suffocating sheath, casting a relentless misery on all who dare trespass through it.   The Wretched Nobody looks down into the grave marked for Marcus Collins.

₩retched Nobody> I believe that Life has put gifts and talents and ability on the inside of every one of us. When you develop that and you believe in yourself and you believe that you're a person of influence and a person of purpose, I believe you can rise up out of any situation…. Except this Match.  This match is a no win situation… This match is utter defeat now, or down some lonely line.  This Time to Shine match is MINE!  That case with the title… is MINE!  That Third Title Reign…. IS MINE!  Whoever gets in my way… is going to get put in their place.  It's often difficult for those who are lucky enough to have never experienced what true depression is to imagine a life of complete hopelessness, emptiness and fear.  So believe in yourselves.  Believe that Hope can be a powerful force…. Fool yourselves into believing that Maybe there's no actual magic in it, but when you know what you hope for most and hold it like a light within you, you can make things happen, almost like magic…. And ultimately you’ll just all come to know that the greatest test of courage on earth is to bear defeat without losing heart.

To be a champion, I think you have to see the big picture. It's not about winning and losing; it's about every day hard work and about thriving on a challenge. It's about embracing the pain that you'll experience at the end of a race and not being afraid. I think people think too hard and get afraid of a certain challenge.  When we meet real tragedy in life, we can react in two ways - either by losing hope and falling into self-destructive habits, or by using the challenge to find our inner strength.


::Grace Brutal::The real world is where the monsters are.  Sometimes human places, create inhuman monsters…. What would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark? It would be like sleep without dreams….  Like the dreams of a monster that refused, sometimes, to behave like a monster. When a monster stopped behaving like a monster, did it stop being a monster…. Or…. Does it just become something else?


₩retched Nobody> Marcus Collins - you call yourself the Reaper, even though I did it first.  You claim the status of the harbinger of souls… but do you really know where the name comes from?

In the beginning, there was one universe which contained two dimensions; Hell, and Heaven. These existed long before time was even created; they were untouched and continue to be untouched by time itself.

In Hell, there was life; there were the lowly Demons and Specters, and the most evil being Lucifer. In Heaven, there existed the noble Angels and the Great Spirit.

Eventually when time was created, a new dimension was woven and was forced to abide by the laws of time; it was Ora. The first few millennia of Ora was full of emptiness, unlike the other two dimensions; this one had no life, until the life of man was created. When these beings were formed, one final dimension was created which was named Axiom. This dimension housed two guardians of time, the guardian of the beginning known as Life, and the guardian of the end known as Death.

As Life and Death watched time go its course, and collected lives as well as gave lives, a type of being arose in Axiom known as the blank reapers, they traveled to Ora through the Omphalos; this is place where each of the four dimension are connected, as well as the only place to travel to another one of the four dimensions, it was considered the center of the universe. However, it was restricted to Life, as well as Man when they are in their physical bodies. Since time does not flow in these dimensions, Life, a form of time could not travel through the Omphalos.

When the reaping blanks and Death traveled through the Omphalos, Life set up a trap and absorbed his brother, becoming a new being of Life and Death. The reaping blanks however would not follow Life’s orders of laws and keep death flowing in Ora. So he traveled through the Omphalos, and met a dying man named Azrael. When Life met him, he convinced Azrael to give up his mortal physical body to serve him and be free of death. But this came at a cost he would be forced to carry out the duties of death and no longer live a pure life. Azrael took this chance to become immortal. He shook Life’s hand and in that moment, his skin melted, his muscle burned and fell to ash, his blood boiled and evaporated into the air, the organs inside of his body exploded with such power, that what was left of his body was whipped around and banged against the ground, the life was being pulled out of his body painfully, he screamed and cried wanting his life to end but it couldn’t, he died a thousand times and experienced the death that Death himself had to deal before being absorbed, then finally everything stopped. All that was left of his body was his decaying skeleton, anyone looking at this would have thought that this was the end for Azrael, however, Life bent over the remnants of a once honorable man and said “Awaken”, and Azrael rose.

When he stood up, smoky shadows, which spun around in the air like snakes covered his body until they formed a black tattered robe. Then, Life held out his hand and more of these smoky shadows gathered and formed the Death blade, a tall scythe that was black as night, and the blade formed a crescent moon that was half as long as the staff from which it extended. Life gently touched the blade to his hand and then pulled back as a black colored blood dripped down from his hand. He looked to Azrael in his new grim appearance and said in deeply dark but extremely tired voice “Take this scythe and cut down those whose time has run out,” and then he disappeared.

Azrael then began his duty and carried it out extremely well; he became feared and gained a new name as a result, “The Grim Reaper”. As time went on the Reaper grew very tired of following the orders from Life. The Reaper decided he would follow Life through the Omphalos, and take all the power that life controlled for himself. When Life came to Ora to give the Reaper more orders, he was attacked by Azrael. Life became very injured and tried to flee through the Omphalos, but was caught off guard and by surprise on the other side of the Omphalos when the Reaper appeared. The Reaper used his scythe to cut a hole between the universes and bypass the Omphalos, and was able to get to Axiom before Life. He then destroyed Life’s body and absorbed his power.

As the newly born Reaper absorbed this energy and power he laughed out a happy shriek of enjoyment, but then his bony body throbbed, the forces of both Life and Death could not be contained in his weak soul as well as Life’s soul could contain them and his soul shattered into fifty pieces ending him, and giving birth to the Ascendant. The Ascendant was a shade or a ghost who was the remaining power of Life and Death. However the Ascendant could not keep time flowing, he could watch life and deliver it from the creator, but not give death, so he gave one of the fifty shards of the shattered Reaper’s soul to fifty different families, and every Millennia they must fight and collect the shards from one another to become the next reaper.

That’s not you, Marcus… you’re just a feeble man who has built a career standing on the shoulders of everyone else… and on Revolution - I will not be another of them.  This is MY Time to Shine, Collins… either help - or get the hell out of my way… because you are No Reaper… you are just a man with a cryptic misnomer of a nickname.  I am The Reaper of Old… I am who they’ll tell folklore about in years to come.  So choose another avenue, Marcus… you’re in My Lane.  You’re in My Way.

I intend to Loom over all of you - and take away any chance for Any of you to bask in Time to Shine.


::Grace Brutal::In the Absence of light…. Darkness prevails.


The moonlight casts its eerie shadow on the path that lie ahead, it seems to beckon them away with a ghostly glow that none could resist. Pulling, pushing, dragging, each of them further through the mist, their bizarre rantings silenced by the beauty, leaving the rest of us terrified by the power of their determination.
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The Wretched Nobody
Hand in hand until the edge of Oblivion.
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Hometown: The Danvers State Lunatic Asylum, Salem Massachusetts
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Finishers: Lobotomy, Trephination.  Sedative, Creeping in the Dark
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Down for Life, Marked past Death!



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« Reply #1 on: August 11, 2016, 04:43:58 pm »

It's long, but I hope you all enjoy it - and good luck to Trine, Marcus and Abram.  I went for some "Vintage Wretch" on this one so I had a blast writing it.
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Trine Larsen
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« Reply #2 on: August 11, 2016, 11:12:39 pm »

Killed it man I got buried this time around by you and Marcus! This match is going to be so good! I can't wait!!
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J-Dub
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Dancing with the devil in the pale moon light.



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« Reply #3 on: August 12, 2016, 02:02:24 am »

tl;wr

Lol this was pretty interesting, but I won't lie, had to read in 2 parts, had to pee half way through. I liked the oldschool flavor you brought back, good to see the old wretch back. But here I thought Grace liked Collins lol oh well guess they will have to get into it a little.
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Jakob Hystaria   (1998 – 2014, 2011 – 2014 WWG)
Marcus Collins (2014 – 2016?)
Alastair Morrison   (2017 – Current)

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« Reply #4 on: August 12, 2016, 02:16:01 am »

Sadistically haunting my friend!  I absolutely loved it.  I also think your attention to detail fantastic.  You painted a grim picture for your opponents.   Good luck Carr!
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« Reply #5 on: August 12, 2016, 03:58:42 am »

tl;wr

Lol this was pretty interesting, but I won't lie, had to read in 2 parts, had to pee half way through. I liked the oldschool flavor you brought back, good to see the old wretch back. But here I thought Grace liked Collins lol oh well guess they will have to get into it a little.

Aww she likes Collins, she just loves Goooooooooold!

(How'bout Nooo, ya Crazy Dutch Bastard!)
« Last Edit: August 12, 2016, 03:59:20 am by Carr » Report Spam   Logged

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« Reply #6 on: August 12, 2016, 04:02:50 am »

And thank you Trine and Mewes - I greatly appreciate the positive feedback.  We'll just have to see if Bradley is into some old school style role playing this go around because Jdub and Steph knocked it out this week too.
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« Reply #7 on: August 12, 2016, 05:58:56 am »

We have to, this week is about 4 friends who have great talent put up against for the biggest fake prize! Wish Sean was good this week though, but I am sure Brad is happy to go with just 3 to decide from. I will try and do right by the match itself.
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Jakob Hystaria   (1998 – 2014, 2011 – 2014 WWG)
Marcus Collins (2014 – 2016?)
Alastair Morrison   (2017 – Current)

World Heavyweight Champion x4 and Current (JH x1, MC x2, AM x1)
Carnage Champion x5 and Current (Ascension x1, MC x3, AM x1)
Tag Team Champion x3 (JH x1, Ascension/ Hystaria Foundation defect x2)
Absolute Champion x1 (Ascension)
All Star Champion x1 (JH *dubbed Asylum World Heavyweight)
King of H@rdcore (Creator) – Jakob Hystaria
King of H@rdcore (Participant) x6 (JH x4, MC x2)
King of H@rdcore (Winner) x1 (JH)
Triple Crown Champion x2 (JH, MC)
Grand Slam Champion x1 (MC)
Hall of Fame x1 (JH Co2015)

Yearly Awards
2011 - Most likely to become WWG Champion (JH)
2012 - Wrestler of the Year (JH)
2012, 2016 - Match of the Year  (JH v Slipshod; Tied Crazy 8 Match MC and T2S WHC at Revolution MC)
2012 - Tag Team of the Year (JH FSU)
2012, 2014, & 2016 - Feud of the Year (JH Youth v Legends; MC Authority v WWG; MC v Trine Larson)
2012 Champion of the Year (JH)
2014 - King of the Mic   (MC)
2015 - Most likely to make an impact in ’16 (MC)
2016 – Heel of the Year (MC)
2016 – Champion of the Year (MC)

                  
Staff Awards   
2011 & 2012 - Best Staff Member
2012, 2014, 2016 - Storyline of the Year
2012 & 2014 - Member of the Year
2012 - Most Helpful Member
Staff Hall of Fame Induction 2013
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Hand in hand until the edge of Oblivion.
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Gender: Male
Wrestler: The Wretched Nobody
Hometown: The Danvers State Lunatic Asylum, Salem Massachusetts
Weight: 344 lbs
Height: 6ft. 11in.
Finishers: Lobotomy, Trephination.  Sedative, Creeping in the Dark
W/L/D Record: You keep track if you really want to know - I'm busy winning matches.
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« Reply #8 on: August 12, 2016, 07:53:15 am »

Well... You didn't HAVE to do so well.  But I won't hold it against the both of you lol.
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