Post by ROMERO on Jan 22, 2023 20:41:37 GMT
“Violence… sweet, sweet violence.”
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The feed bursts to life, showing nothing but what could only be described as a very poorly lit room. The only light in the room came from a single light bulb that was swinging from its cords. Why on Earth are you seeing this? Why on Earth would anyone in their right mind be hanging out in a room like this? The walls were barren, the lighting was abysmal, and the windows were all but completely busted out. So, why are we here? Maybe it’s to look at this super awesome ladder that was positioned in the middle of the room? No, that can’t be it. Just then, a figure emerged from the darkness of the room. At first, just a simple silhouette and then? Boom! Live and in living color, the Main Character, Silas Romero stepped forth into the light. A very small smirk slid across his face.
“Why the hell am I here? Well, I figured since this was the first time in a long time that yours truly did something like this. Well… I decided I should take it back and do it old school. There was a time in my career where I thought this aesthetic was the best. At one point, hanging out in poorly lit rooms and talking all the trash in the world was the fucking coolest… And I was damn good at it. I mean, frankly… I am still really good at it, it’s just that now I don’t feel the need to take it this far anymore. Why should I? Why should I waste my time, creating masterpieces or atmospheric wonderlands for any of you anymore? I’ve already proven time and time again that despite the fact that I have a gift for words… I do my work in the middle of that ring, regardless of what company I’m working for at the time. Now, some would say that I've spread myself far too thin over the past year or so and they can say that. Because, well… I have. The thing is, though, I still have a couple things to prove to not the world… But to myself. As far as anyone else goes, I don’t need approval from them. If I needed that, I would have stayed in the echo chambers and let my ego grow out of control. However, I have things that I want to test out, you know?”
Silas slid his hands into the track jacket that was branded with MDC logos on the front and back of it.
“For a long time in my career, I believed that I needed to indulge in the more, so-called, “hardcore” side of the business; I looked down on it. I absolutely saw no need in using weapons when my body can be used as a perfect instrument of destruction all on its own. My elbows, my knees, and my fists were all that I needed to get the job done… Whether I won or lost, it was all on me. Now, when I had my hand forced, I partook in those matches, though not without protest. However, over the past few months… I’ve had, how you say, an awakening. Lately, I’ve embraced a more violent side of myself, and it has led to so much clarity. Do you know how freeing it can be when you no longer shackle yourself with tedious chains?”
A small, borderline sadist chuckle escaped from his lips, before continuing.
“Why is any of this relevant? Why do you need to know any of that? Oh boy, are you in for a treat. You see, all of this leads very nicely into the fact that my very first match for the CULT… Is a ladder match. Can you believe it? Can you imagine the luck of it all? You mean to tell me that in my first match with this company that not only do I get to walk out of it with a guaranteed title shot at any belt that I want, but I also get to brutalize five other people? Can you imagine the serendipity of it all? But it’s not like they are complete strangers to me. Well, I don’t know them personally… But I have done my research on them. See, unlike some of these goons in this business, I enjoy looking in on my opponents and scouting them out. But where to start?”
Silas pondered his words for a minute, even going as far as to tap his chin with his right index finger for a moment.
“Give me a moment, I’m thinking. It’ll come to me.”
He continued on in silence for another minute or two, only to finally snap back to reality.
“Awh, yes. Shall we start with the Warmonger? Hmm? You know, the one looks and smells like a Five Finger Death Punch concert. Sure, she’s good. She’s alright. She might even be great. However, her downfall is all in her presentation - It’s God awful. I get that in the end, we’re in the business of entertainment but at what cost? How about this? Okay? You focus on your wife’s music career and leave this sport to the ones that aren’t playing pretend? Again, don’t get me wrong… I’m sure I could carry you through a technical masterpiece of a wrestling match, but that doesn’t mean you truly belong in this match or anywhere a ring that I’m in. Do you understand?”
He scoffed.
“But now, that could cover the bases for most people in the game, right? When I had my awakening recently, I also realized that quite frankly, most of you are not even close to my level. Why do you think I’m traveling from company to company? I’m trying to have the best matches on the planet. I’ve managed to have a couple of those here and there… And even in defeat, I have never felt more alive. So, now I get to step into the ring and beat the holy hell out of five other people that quite frankly deserve it? I couldn’t be happier. Because trust me… I watched some tape on that Hobbs guy and boy, I can’t wait to pop him in his mouth with my elbow. It’ll be a glorious sight as I repeatedly drive my elbow into his big, dumb head over and over… And over and over. But that’s not all… I might even drag his broken and battered body up that ladder, just to watch him fall. Wouldn’t that be something to see?”
Silas looked up at the ladder, his eyes gazing upon each and every rung of that big, beautiful ladder.
“Just thinking about this Violence Party of six is making me all tingly inside.”
He shuttered before continuing on.
“Oh, the things that we will see. The things that we will do to each other will leave most speechless and I personally can’t wait. I know someone else that can’t wait. Probably that felon literally killed a guy. Maybe take a tip from Ron and go lay low with Brick? Wait, you’re out now. You served your time and you’re rehabilitated, right? Right?
Silas feigned concern for a moment before chuckling.
“Yeah, honestly… I personally don’t give a shit. I want you to bring that brawler mentality into the ring with thee Knockout Supreme and I want you to see how that shit goes for you. ‘Cause, I’m going to be completely honest with you… It’s not gonna work, my guy. I get that we have to win this match by climbing the ladder to heaven to receive that glorious reward, however, I gotta keep you Martians down for the count before I can do that, right? I mean, I guess it’s a good thing I specialize in violence and knocking motherfuckers out. Sometimes, though… I do occasionally feel bad about the things that I do in the middle of the ring. Like, everything I’ve seen about the Vebbins girl makes me think she might be the only one that doesn’t deserve the things that I am capable of doing to her in the middle of that ring to get what I want. Does that mean that I’m going to take easy on her? Oh, on the contrary. Though, I’ll still probably feel a bit bad knocking her out. Sorry, Az.”
Silas shrugged his shoulders as he mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s a bit funny, I guess. Even just a couple months ago, all of this talk would have been ridiculous to me. Well, the trash talk and telling everyone how good I am wouldn’t have been but relishing in the violence of it all? That's silly. Again, fitting considering someone in this match fancies themselves to be a bit of a comedian of sorts. Now, from all the tape that I’ve seen on him… He’s going to throw himself all over the ring, in an attempt to crush as many people as possible. That’s fine, Allen. Please, throw yourself at me. Matter of fact, all of you need to bring your S-tier games into this match and inflict as much pain and VIOLENCE as possible. Do you hear me? I want no excuses coming out of this match. I don’t want anyone coming out of this and claiming anything short of "I did my best and it still wasn’t good enough to beat the Technical Masterpiece.”
Silas turned his attention to the ladder. He admired it once more before climbing up the side of it, rung by rung. In one last motion, Silas swung his leg over and perched himself up on top of the ladder.
“This here is a vantage point that most of you are never going to see. Like it or not, I am waking out of Ladder Day Saints with that guaranteed contract. You are all more than welcome to try and stop the Violence Party, sadly, you will fail this city. See what I did there? Ol’ nerdy Vebby-webby will get it.”
He shook his head slowly, almost with a look of shame blazon across his face.
“Yeah, I know… That was a terrible joke and a worse reference, considering that show pretty much went to shit after the second or third season, but I digress. The point of all of this is one way or another, no matter what I have to do to get the job done… I will. If I have to throw someone off the ladder, I will. If I have to beat one or all of you within an inch of your lives, I will. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get this big, fat DUB. Do you get me? I hope you do. I hope you all understand what you’re in for. I hope that you look your families in the eyes and tell them just how much you love them possibly one last time. Do you hear these words? Open your eyes… Open your eyes… And prepare for a war the likes that you’ve never seen before. It’s all fun and games right now, ladies and gentlemen. But once I step foot inside that ring? I become a professional at what I do… And what I do is knock motherfuckers out. On the Thirty-first? You all get to have firsthand accounts of what a professional looks like. Some of you, you’ll be different after Ladder Day Saints. Your lives will change… Whether it’s for the better, well that’s up to you, now, isn’t it? Now, rejoice in knowing that you’ll have that opportunity to figure all of that out.”
Silas flashed his “death to handshakes” hand gesture, as the scene faded to black.
Silas turned his attention to the ladder. He admired it once more before climbing up the side of it, rung by rung. In one last motion, Silas swung his leg over and perched himself up on top of the ladder.
“This here is a vantage point that most of you are never going to see. Like it or not, I am waking out of Ladder Day Saints with that guaranteed contract. You are all more than welcome to try and stop the Violence Party, sadly, you will fail this city. See what I did there? Ol’ nerdy Vebby-webby will get it.”
He shook his head slowly, almost with a look of shame blazon across his face.
“Yeah, I know… That was a terrible joke and a worse reference, considering that show pretty much went to shit after the second or third season, but I digress. The point of all of this is one way or another, no matter what I have to do to get the job done… I will. If I have to throw someone off the ladder, I will. If I have to beat one or all of you within an inch of your lives, I will. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get this big, fat DUB. Do you get me? I hope you do. I hope you all understand what you’re in for. I hope that you look your families in the eyes and tell them just how much you love them possibly one last time. Do you hear these words? Open your eyes… Open your eyes… And prepare for a war the likes that you’ve never seen before. It’s all fun and games right now, ladies and gentlemen. But once I step foot inside that ring? I become a professional at what I do… And what I do is knock motherfuckers out. On the Thirty-first? You all get to have firsthand accounts of what a professional looks like. Some of you, you’ll be different after Ladder Day Saints. Your lives will change… Whether it’s for the better, well that’s up to you, now, isn’t it? Now, rejoice in knowing that you’ll have that opportunity to figure all of that out.”
Silas flashed his “death to handshakes” hand gesture, as the scene faded to black.
