Post by Deleted on Dec 24, 2020 13:30:46 GMT -5
Supreme (on-cam)
We open up to a strange sight. A dark room with bare concrete walls with a bright spotlight in the middle. In the spotlight stands a lithe woman dressed in a gray business suit and behind her you can barely make out the figure of a massive man who towers over the woman. The woman is of course Jennifer Rivers and the figure behind her Supreme Machine. It is Jenny who speaks up first, with a smile on her lips and with a serious tone on her voice.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Jennifer Rivers. I am the representative of the man who will bring chaos and mayhem on a scale never seen before to UPRISING, the beast that stands behind me, Supreme Machine. Before I get down to business, I would like to wish all the fans and members of the staff and roster here at UPRISING a Merry Christmas or whichever holiday you observe. The New Year is closing in on us and once the calendar shifts over to 2021 and we leave this year of misery behind, a new page will be turned in the story of this promotion. The age of the machine shall begin on January 9th at Revolution 4. Supreme Machine shall make his inring debut and make a statement that cannot be ignored.”
She motions towards SuMa as she speaks, but the large man shows no interest in her. Jenny looks as if she had expected SuMa to speak up, but since he doesn’t, she continues on.
“But between him and his purpose stands a man who from what I have seen is much like him. Calling himself “The Destroyer of Worlds”. Casting aside his birth name of Nathan Grey and going by… Legion. There is not much information to be found about you Mr. Grey, only your connection to a legend of this business and a long term rival of our esteemed boss Brad Jackson, a man by the name of Spiral. It is clear though that you possess a considerable degree of talent and determination. That you have a penchant for theatrics. You speak or rather tweet in measured words and put forth a facade of refinement. But I can see beyond that. I see a man desperate to make his own way in this business. A man looking at a shadow and fearing he will never break free of said shadow. A man burdened by deeds of him who came before. It is a tale as old as time and as common as any in this business. And to have the misfortune of being faced with Supreme Machine at your first opportunity to leave your mark in UPRISING is a shame. But we play with the cards we are dealt. Like you said it yourself Mr. Grey, a bad draw was given. But not for him. For you.
Revolution 4 is more than just a debut for my brother. It is a new beginning. For all the havoc he has wreaked in the past has forced him to go into hiding many a time. His victims have tried to forget him. His employers have regretted bringing him in. He has left a trail of destruction wherever he has traveled. From EWF to EWC to OCW and everything inbetween. So Mr. Grey. You come from a past filled with tragedy and pain. But my brother is the embodiment of pain. To quote a famous line for an equally famous movie… what he is today was born from pain. Moulded by it. His body carries the marks of all that he has suffered through. He was once a man just like any other. A kind man. a gentle man. When we grew up together he smiled. He laughed. He cared. All that was systematically beaten out of him in this business. He began as a bright eyed young hopeful with a warm smile… only for years of pain and misery to turn his stare cold and emotionless and his smile hidden behind a mask.”
A tinge of pain seeps into her voice as she glances over her shoulder. There is clearly a long story there somewhere, but like the professional she is, she gathers herself quickly and continues on. But melancholy doesn’t leave her voice even if it cannot be read on her face.
“I lost contact with him for years. It wasn’t until I made my own foray into this business that I found him again. And even then I could barely believe what the man I had grown up with had turned into. Mr. Grey, can you fathom the feeling when you realize that the closest family you have… no longer exists? Can you fathom the feeling of looking at someone, barely recognizing the features that were once an integral part of your life? To realize that he was no longer the man you knew? He was broken by this business. Physically and mentally. And once he got pushed beyond the brink… my brother ceased to exist and in his place was Supreme Machine. I rediscovered him after I received a call from the law enforcement you know Mr. Grey. He had competed in a deathmatch and refused to stop beating his opponent… I was reunited with him because he was being held for murder. THAT is the kind of a man my brother had turned into.
The charges didn’t hold. They couldn’t prove a clear intent. And since I promised to take him under my care, he was let go. But the danger is still there Mr. Grey. I can hold him from crossing the line too far. But only because he lets me. What you are facing in Revolution 4 Mr. Grey, is a ticking timebomb. A force of nature that doesn’t ask for permission and has no regrets over his actions. It is a shame you were designated as his first opponent. Because an encounter between you and him on a grander stage could have been legendary.”
She looks confident as she makes the last statement and is about to proceed when a massive hand lands on her shoulder and pulls her back. Not in a particularly gentle manner, but you can tell that SuMa held back on that pull, of only by a bit. He stares Jenny down and even though no words are exchanged between the two, she backs off and lets SuMa take the spotlight. He is dressed in a loose blue vest that leaves most of his upper body bare, the bright light exposing the intricate web of scars that crisscross his skin to the viewer. He stares into the camera with his head slightly held downwards which allows his greasy black mane to fall on his face like a veil behind which his masked face can barely be seen. And when he speaks, he does so in a harsh, gruff voice, each word coming out of his lips like a threat. His speech is almost growllike.
“We have remained in the darkness for too long… Denied of our desires. Exiled out of the eyes of the civilized world. Out of fear we have been cast aside. But no more. We have returned. And Legion… You shall be the first one to feel the depths of our wrath. There is no force on this planet that can match up to us… We are beyond measure. The power the flows through our veins might be no more special than the blood in yours… But we are not held back by concepts like mercy or sympathy. For us Legion… you are nothing but a lamb to the slaughter. Irrelevant in the grand scheme of things… A first of many who will fall under our foot. Revolution 4 will become a killing ground. Blood will be spilled on the hallowed halls of the Silver State Ballroom. Be it yours… or ours. For we will gladly bleed in order to break you.”
The man suddenly drags his nails across his own chest hard enough to draw blood, a tract of deep crimson shining under the bright light. He brings his hand to his face and stares at the blood caught under his fingernails almost curiously. He drops down to one knee and draws a line on the ground with the plasma on his fingertips, suddenly punching the concrete floor with full force, a blow strong enough to break the skin on his knuckles. He stands back up and shows his hand to the camera and continues in a disinterested manner.
“Our body is nothing more than a weapon. A tool of destruction. If destroying you requires us to go through hell and back… we will do it. All the pain you can inflict on us Legion… we will return a thousandfold. The amount of punishment we can endure defies belief. As long as we draw breath and our muscles obey our commands we will keep coming. For we are more than a man. We are a machine. We are the beast that lurks in the dark. We are destruction… personified. Legion… you have shown that you have a slight understanding of how our mind works. You have shown to possess an insight into us that few have. You and us… do not seem to be so much different. But that won’t change the fact that we are beyond your reach to overcome. We are superior to you in every way Legion. Physically and mentally. You cannot wear us down. You cannot outpower us. You cannot outlast us. You cannot outthink us. We are… Supreme.”
His voice has dropped even lower as he continues to speak. In a rapid motion he whips his head backwards, flipping the hair out of his face, giving an unobstructed look to his face. Black, almost coallike eyes stare from holes in his worn out leather mask. With no emotion or warmth.
“At Revolution 4 you will walk the path of the victim Legion… You will rise up to the ultimate test and be found wanting. That is not a question but a statement. The burdens of the past you carry on your shoulders shall not be lessened at Revolution 4 but merely increased. You have met your match Legion… And if you fail to yield… we will send you to your father… in pieces. For from now on we are enemies… you… and us”
And just like that SuMa walks out of the spotlight, vanishing into the darkness that is just out of focus. Jenny moves into the light, looking towards the direction SuMa walked into and you can see her lips move, indicating she is saying something that cannot be heard. After a moment she clearly gets a response and turns to face the camera.
“Mr. Grey. Legion. Whatever you wish to be called. I hope you enjoyed this look into what your opponent for Revolution 4 is like. I for one am looking forward to seeing you both in action on January 9th. Because regardless of which one of you two comes out on top… The fans will have gotten their moneys worth. Enjoy the holidays Mr. Grey.”
And with that the recording ends with an advert for Revolution 4 at the Silver State Ballroom on January 9th with a cryptic message at the bottom.
“No-One ever wins. No-one finally loses. Except the dead”
A hell of his own doing(off-cam)
Pain… Every part of his body is in pain. He is lying flat on his back amongst the remains of a table, with glass shards strewn everywhere. He is barely conscious, the iron taste of blood in his tongue. His own blood. A steady stream of it trickles down his forehead, down his nose and into his mouth. His vision is blurred by the crimson hue.
He tries to move. He can’t. His body won’t respond to the impulses his brain sends. He had just taken a 10-foot fall from a ladder through a table laden with light tubes. “Gotta get up. Gotta keep fighting. I can’t stop now…” a frantic thought runs through his mind as he tries to shake the cobwebs out of his head. From the corner of his eye he can see a man approaching him. His opponent. A man by the name of Dreadnaught. He can hear the crowd cheering and rumbling as Dreadnaught lands a stiff kick to the side of his head, the jolt from it sharpening his senses. He tries to bring his hand up to block the next hit but his body still won’t respond.
He sees Dreadnaught say something but the ringing in his ears from the kick prevents him from hearing it. He feels the other man grabbing his hair and pulling his head up. And then he feels something cold on the corner of his mouth. He tries to focus his gaze. But the bloodloss and the pain has brought him to the brink of unconsciousness.
He finally sees what is happening. Dreadnought is holding him by the hair in a half seated position. And on his other hand he has a shard from the light tubes that were shattered by his fall. Suddenly a wave of absolute terror flashes in his mind as he realizes that the shard is the coldness he feels on the corner of his mouth. He stares at Dreadnaughts face and sees the man mouth the words “Smile you motherfucker”... and an instant later searing pain is all he feels. A scream tries to escape his lips, but none comes out. His eyes bulge out as the shard of glass cuts clean through his cheek on the inside and before he can do anything about it, moves to the other side of his mouth repeating the motion there.
Darkness engulfs him. He can feel nothing but pain that burns every other sensation away. Just before he passes out he sees Dreadnaught lift the bloody piece of glass into the air like a trophy… and hears laughter. But not from the man standing above him but from the depths of his own mind.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SuMa jolts upright from the half-seated half-lying position he had been in, letting out a blood-curdling scream. His hands shoot up to his face, his fingers finding the scars on his cheeks. A Chelsea Grin. “Why must you remind me of this…” He speaks out loud, in voice trembling with pain.
“I didn’t remind you of anything weakling… It is not my fault your mind keeps going back to the moment I was born. I cannot control what you see when you dream… I am merely a spectator” The gruff voice of SuMa responds to him. The two distinct personalities that inhabit the man known to the world as Supreme Machine, Tom the weakling and SuMa the beast.
“I heard you laugh. You were there already weren’t you? You could have prevented that couldn’t you?” Tom’s tone was accusing. He was staring at the mirror that had been laid on the bare corner of the cellar for the sole purpose of giving him someone to look at when he spoke to himself. “I heard your laughter there... “
In the mirror, SuMa chuckled, moving the mask that covered his face to the side and letting his fingers trace the outline of the deep red scars that marked his face. “I was there already yes… But I couldn’t prevent that. I was merely a spectator like I said. These… were the final push that I needed to fully take over. These were the moment that the last of your resistance broke.” He was amused, even proud. “I waited for years weakling… Watching from the back of your mind. Watching and waiting as you kept shoving all the pain and agony to the corner of your mind. I watched through your eyes as you kept smiling to the world despite the constant suffering you went through. I watched and I waited… Until you got a permanent smile.”
Tom was quiet. They’d had this conversation so many times before that he had long since lost count. But when you only have yourself for company, you run out of things to say sooner than you’d think. And SuMa always loved to twist the knife in the wound. The beast that stared him back from the mirror was his own creation. He had tried to stay true to himself, ostensibly living the dream of being a professional wrestler. But no matter where he went and what he did, he kept finding himself in deathmatches and other ordeals that drained him not just physically but mentally. He had wanted to make it in the business so badly that he never complained. He just held his head down and did what was wanted of him. All the while shoving all the doubts, the fears. The pain and the agony to the back of his mind. Out of sight out of mind. Until the day the dam broke.
“I know... “ Tom whispered quietly. There was nothing he could say that hadn’t already been said. That was years ago… and since that day he had paid those that hurt him back a million times over. But he had lost his humanity to the beast. Now he was but a passenger. Watching without the ability to affect anything.
A hell of his own doing.
We open up to a strange sight. A dark room with bare concrete walls with a bright spotlight in the middle. In the spotlight stands a lithe woman dressed in a gray business suit and behind her you can barely make out the figure of a massive man who towers over the woman. The woman is of course Jennifer Rivers and the figure behind her Supreme Machine. It is Jenny who speaks up first, with a smile on her lips and with a serious tone on her voice.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Jennifer Rivers. I am the representative of the man who will bring chaos and mayhem on a scale never seen before to UPRISING, the beast that stands behind me, Supreme Machine. Before I get down to business, I would like to wish all the fans and members of the staff and roster here at UPRISING a Merry Christmas or whichever holiday you observe. The New Year is closing in on us and once the calendar shifts over to 2021 and we leave this year of misery behind, a new page will be turned in the story of this promotion. The age of the machine shall begin on January 9th at Revolution 4. Supreme Machine shall make his inring debut and make a statement that cannot be ignored.”
She motions towards SuMa as she speaks, but the large man shows no interest in her. Jenny looks as if she had expected SuMa to speak up, but since he doesn’t, she continues on.
“But between him and his purpose stands a man who from what I have seen is much like him. Calling himself “The Destroyer of Worlds”. Casting aside his birth name of Nathan Grey and going by… Legion. There is not much information to be found about you Mr. Grey, only your connection to a legend of this business and a long term rival of our esteemed boss Brad Jackson, a man by the name of Spiral. It is clear though that you possess a considerable degree of talent and determination. That you have a penchant for theatrics. You speak or rather tweet in measured words and put forth a facade of refinement. But I can see beyond that. I see a man desperate to make his own way in this business. A man looking at a shadow and fearing he will never break free of said shadow. A man burdened by deeds of him who came before. It is a tale as old as time and as common as any in this business. And to have the misfortune of being faced with Supreme Machine at your first opportunity to leave your mark in UPRISING is a shame. But we play with the cards we are dealt. Like you said it yourself Mr. Grey, a bad draw was given. But not for him. For you.
Revolution 4 is more than just a debut for my brother. It is a new beginning. For all the havoc he has wreaked in the past has forced him to go into hiding many a time. His victims have tried to forget him. His employers have regretted bringing him in. He has left a trail of destruction wherever he has traveled. From EWF to EWC to OCW and everything inbetween. So Mr. Grey. You come from a past filled with tragedy and pain. But my brother is the embodiment of pain. To quote a famous line for an equally famous movie… what he is today was born from pain. Moulded by it. His body carries the marks of all that he has suffered through. He was once a man just like any other. A kind man. a gentle man. When we grew up together he smiled. He laughed. He cared. All that was systematically beaten out of him in this business. He began as a bright eyed young hopeful with a warm smile… only for years of pain and misery to turn his stare cold and emotionless and his smile hidden behind a mask.”
A tinge of pain seeps into her voice as she glances over her shoulder. There is clearly a long story there somewhere, but like the professional she is, she gathers herself quickly and continues on. But melancholy doesn’t leave her voice even if it cannot be read on her face.
“I lost contact with him for years. It wasn’t until I made my own foray into this business that I found him again. And even then I could barely believe what the man I had grown up with had turned into. Mr. Grey, can you fathom the feeling when you realize that the closest family you have… no longer exists? Can you fathom the feeling of looking at someone, barely recognizing the features that were once an integral part of your life? To realize that he was no longer the man you knew? He was broken by this business. Physically and mentally. And once he got pushed beyond the brink… my brother ceased to exist and in his place was Supreme Machine. I rediscovered him after I received a call from the law enforcement you know Mr. Grey. He had competed in a deathmatch and refused to stop beating his opponent… I was reunited with him because he was being held for murder. THAT is the kind of a man my brother had turned into.
The charges didn’t hold. They couldn’t prove a clear intent. And since I promised to take him under my care, he was let go. But the danger is still there Mr. Grey. I can hold him from crossing the line too far. But only because he lets me. What you are facing in Revolution 4 Mr. Grey, is a ticking timebomb. A force of nature that doesn’t ask for permission and has no regrets over his actions. It is a shame you were designated as his first opponent. Because an encounter between you and him on a grander stage could have been legendary.”
She looks confident as she makes the last statement and is about to proceed when a massive hand lands on her shoulder and pulls her back. Not in a particularly gentle manner, but you can tell that SuMa held back on that pull, of only by a bit. He stares Jenny down and even though no words are exchanged between the two, she backs off and lets SuMa take the spotlight. He is dressed in a loose blue vest that leaves most of his upper body bare, the bright light exposing the intricate web of scars that crisscross his skin to the viewer. He stares into the camera with his head slightly held downwards which allows his greasy black mane to fall on his face like a veil behind which his masked face can barely be seen. And when he speaks, he does so in a harsh, gruff voice, each word coming out of his lips like a threat. His speech is almost growllike.
“We have remained in the darkness for too long… Denied of our desires. Exiled out of the eyes of the civilized world. Out of fear we have been cast aside. But no more. We have returned. And Legion… You shall be the first one to feel the depths of our wrath. There is no force on this planet that can match up to us… We are beyond measure. The power the flows through our veins might be no more special than the blood in yours… But we are not held back by concepts like mercy or sympathy. For us Legion… you are nothing but a lamb to the slaughter. Irrelevant in the grand scheme of things… A first of many who will fall under our foot. Revolution 4 will become a killing ground. Blood will be spilled on the hallowed halls of the Silver State Ballroom. Be it yours… or ours. For we will gladly bleed in order to break you.”
The man suddenly drags his nails across his own chest hard enough to draw blood, a tract of deep crimson shining under the bright light. He brings his hand to his face and stares at the blood caught under his fingernails almost curiously. He drops down to one knee and draws a line on the ground with the plasma on his fingertips, suddenly punching the concrete floor with full force, a blow strong enough to break the skin on his knuckles. He stands back up and shows his hand to the camera and continues in a disinterested manner.
“Our body is nothing more than a weapon. A tool of destruction. If destroying you requires us to go through hell and back… we will do it. All the pain you can inflict on us Legion… we will return a thousandfold. The amount of punishment we can endure defies belief. As long as we draw breath and our muscles obey our commands we will keep coming. For we are more than a man. We are a machine. We are the beast that lurks in the dark. We are destruction… personified. Legion… you have shown that you have a slight understanding of how our mind works. You have shown to possess an insight into us that few have. You and us… do not seem to be so much different. But that won’t change the fact that we are beyond your reach to overcome. We are superior to you in every way Legion. Physically and mentally. You cannot wear us down. You cannot outpower us. You cannot outlast us. You cannot outthink us. We are… Supreme.”
His voice has dropped even lower as he continues to speak. In a rapid motion he whips his head backwards, flipping the hair out of his face, giving an unobstructed look to his face. Black, almost coallike eyes stare from holes in his worn out leather mask. With no emotion or warmth.
“At Revolution 4 you will walk the path of the victim Legion… You will rise up to the ultimate test and be found wanting. That is not a question but a statement. The burdens of the past you carry on your shoulders shall not be lessened at Revolution 4 but merely increased. You have met your match Legion… And if you fail to yield… we will send you to your father… in pieces. For from now on we are enemies… you… and us”
And just like that SuMa walks out of the spotlight, vanishing into the darkness that is just out of focus. Jenny moves into the light, looking towards the direction SuMa walked into and you can see her lips move, indicating she is saying something that cannot be heard. After a moment she clearly gets a response and turns to face the camera.
“Mr. Grey. Legion. Whatever you wish to be called. I hope you enjoyed this look into what your opponent for Revolution 4 is like. I for one am looking forward to seeing you both in action on January 9th. Because regardless of which one of you two comes out on top… The fans will have gotten their moneys worth. Enjoy the holidays Mr. Grey.”
And with that the recording ends with an advert for Revolution 4 at the Silver State Ballroom on January 9th with a cryptic message at the bottom.
“No-One ever wins. No-one finally loses. Except the dead”
A hell of his own doing(off-cam)
Pain… Every part of his body is in pain. He is lying flat on his back amongst the remains of a table, with glass shards strewn everywhere. He is barely conscious, the iron taste of blood in his tongue. His own blood. A steady stream of it trickles down his forehead, down his nose and into his mouth. His vision is blurred by the crimson hue.
He tries to move. He can’t. His body won’t respond to the impulses his brain sends. He had just taken a 10-foot fall from a ladder through a table laden with light tubes. “Gotta get up. Gotta keep fighting. I can’t stop now…” a frantic thought runs through his mind as he tries to shake the cobwebs out of his head. From the corner of his eye he can see a man approaching him. His opponent. A man by the name of Dreadnaught. He can hear the crowd cheering and rumbling as Dreadnaught lands a stiff kick to the side of his head, the jolt from it sharpening his senses. He tries to bring his hand up to block the next hit but his body still won’t respond.
He sees Dreadnaught say something but the ringing in his ears from the kick prevents him from hearing it. He feels the other man grabbing his hair and pulling his head up. And then he feels something cold on the corner of his mouth. He tries to focus his gaze. But the bloodloss and the pain has brought him to the brink of unconsciousness.
He finally sees what is happening. Dreadnought is holding him by the hair in a half seated position. And on his other hand he has a shard from the light tubes that were shattered by his fall. Suddenly a wave of absolute terror flashes in his mind as he realizes that the shard is the coldness he feels on the corner of his mouth. He stares at Dreadnaughts face and sees the man mouth the words “Smile you motherfucker”... and an instant later searing pain is all he feels. A scream tries to escape his lips, but none comes out. His eyes bulge out as the shard of glass cuts clean through his cheek on the inside and before he can do anything about it, moves to the other side of his mouth repeating the motion there.
Darkness engulfs him. He can feel nothing but pain that burns every other sensation away. Just before he passes out he sees Dreadnaught lift the bloody piece of glass into the air like a trophy… and hears laughter. But not from the man standing above him but from the depths of his own mind.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
SuMa jolts upright from the half-seated half-lying position he had been in, letting out a blood-curdling scream. His hands shoot up to his face, his fingers finding the scars on his cheeks. A Chelsea Grin. “Why must you remind me of this…” He speaks out loud, in voice trembling with pain.
“I didn’t remind you of anything weakling… It is not my fault your mind keeps going back to the moment I was born. I cannot control what you see when you dream… I am merely a spectator” The gruff voice of SuMa responds to him. The two distinct personalities that inhabit the man known to the world as Supreme Machine, Tom the weakling and SuMa the beast.
“I heard you laugh. You were there already weren’t you? You could have prevented that couldn’t you?” Tom’s tone was accusing. He was staring at the mirror that had been laid on the bare corner of the cellar for the sole purpose of giving him someone to look at when he spoke to himself. “I heard your laughter there... “
In the mirror, SuMa chuckled, moving the mask that covered his face to the side and letting his fingers trace the outline of the deep red scars that marked his face. “I was there already yes… But I couldn’t prevent that. I was merely a spectator like I said. These… were the final push that I needed to fully take over. These were the moment that the last of your resistance broke.” He was amused, even proud. “I waited for years weakling… Watching from the back of your mind. Watching and waiting as you kept shoving all the pain and agony to the corner of your mind. I watched through your eyes as you kept smiling to the world despite the constant suffering you went through. I watched and I waited… Until you got a permanent smile.”
Tom was quiet. They’d had this conversation so many times before that he had long since lost count. But when you only have yourself for company, you run out of things to say sooner than you’d think. And SuMa always loved to twist the knife in the wound. The beast that stared him back from the mirror was his own creation. He had tried to stay true to himself, ostensibly living the dream of being a professional wrestler. But no matter where he went and what he did, he kept finding himself in deathmatches and other ordeals that drained him not just physically but mentally. He had wanted to make it in the business so badly that he never complained. He just held his head down and did what was wanted of him. All the while shoving all the doubts, the fears. The pain and the agony to the back of his mind. Out of sight out of mind. Until the day the dam broke.
“I know... “ Tom whispered quietly. There was nothing he could say that hadn’t already been said. That was years ago… and since that day he had paid those that hurt him back a million times over. But he had lost his humanity to the beast. Now he was but a passenger. Watching without the ability to affect anything.
A hell of his own doing.