Post by John Cable on May 16, 2023 23:06:35 GMT -5
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for the demon is within me, and the wicked shall inherit my wrath... mine vengeance be swift... and the monsters are hungry for it, yearning in the darkness for the bounty of your sins...
* * * * *
“Many times in my life... I have been attacked... assaulted... mauled by the many cowards who hunt in packs for fear of the dangerous prey they stalk when I am the Hunted and they are the Hunters... and this will be no different... I assure you.
They fear me for they know how truly parlous I can be, and they refuse to meet me as true warriors, one on one... for they know... deep down in their souls... that they are not on the same level... that we could never be equals in the field of combat.”
They have been weighed...
And they have been found wanting...
And they have been found wanting...
“They lack the fortitude in themselves to do what it takes to give their all... to leave it all in the ring... bell to bell... every shred of yourself... and still fall short of the goal.
They fear failure... and in their fear... they have forgotten how to fight the fight regardless of the outcome, and merely be the warrior they were always meant to be. They have forgotten the honor of fighting valiantly for all to see, win lose or draw... to prove themselves as the best of the best.”
We are not the same.
“Fear does not reside within me... nor does the idea that there is a limit to which I will not go to prove my place in the history books and the minds of the fans around the world... and that is what makes me the most dangerous man in this chamber... the one and only future TIA Men's World Heavyweight Champion...”
It is as the sun rises and sets upon the distant horizon...
A vow of violence...
A covenant of chaos...
An oath in blood...
A vow of violence...
A covenant of chaos...
An oath in blood...
“Not a moment of my life has been free of strife struggle and survival and loss... and inside those ropes... there is no refuge to be found from the storm of vengeance... there is no safety from the Beast... only pain and anguish... and the failure you fear so much... so come... taste the despair at my hands... and weep for your loses.”
* * * * *
Whoosh... Whoosh... Whoosh...
The swoosh of the waves rolling across the tan sands of the Floridian coastline drowns out all but the loudest of gulls squawking over the ruined remains of a picnic along a now abandoned shore. Long ago did the families that roamed the sands here, playing at carefree games of leisure while enjoying the blistering sun of springtime, pack up and venture back towards their homes for the night as shadows drew across the beach and the darkness of night engulfed the horizon. Hours had passed since the last vestiges of the sunlight crossed below the thin blue line far off into the vast ocean and disappeared beneath the waves, and now only the twinkling of hotel lights down the beach can be seen in the darkness.
Splash... Splash... Splash...
From the waves... crawling along the sand... panting heavily in the darkness... emerges a massive shadow from the surf. An arm flings itself forward from the foaming waters and pulls the silhouette along the sandy expanse of beach before another arm emerges and pulls the form even further from the depths of the ocean beyond and onto the grit beneath it.
Splash... Splash... Splash...
Massive legs push the form even further from the waves, and finally... the shadowy figure collapses onto the sandy beach as the surf rolls in around it, attempting to drag the thing back into the sea. It's torso rises and falls in the darkness as it draws in heavy breaths...
Splash... Splash... Splash...
After long minutes... the thing began to stir once more... the moonlight glinting along the chiseled muscles of its massive arms as it began to lift its frame from the sand below. As it struggles to rise to a knee, the flash of moonlight from its bare scalp in the darkness draws attention to the deep shadow of its hairy face as it's breath begins to even out and steady in its pace. The figure stands shakily on massive legs and draws to it's full height, looming above the beach, blotting out the horizon behind it's mass.
Grind... Grind... Grind...
Heavy, gritty footfalls upon the sand mark the steps of the massive thing in the dark... stalking its way slowly towards the dunes where it snatches a backpack sitting among the rushes next to a boardwalk that disappears into the night above the sandy slopes before lumbering across the wooden walkway and disappearing over the low hills into the city lights with slow, heavy steps.
Thud... Thud... Thud...
* * * * *
The pale, beige colored, egg-shaped R2-IDEA floated next to the black and green Axtgriff FTV that John had brought back from a distant future some months ago. The large figure who had crawled his way from the surf minutes before leans into the driver's side door of the future truck, and the R2 unit flits about before floating up above the roof of the truck excitedly.
“John Cable. You have exerted yourself far beyond your advised limits at this time in your healing process. You have been directed by several physicians to take it easy for the next several weeks yet, and here you are... near exhaustion and spiking your heart rate far beyond comfortable limits with night swims and five kilometer running trips. If you don't take it...” the R2 unit exclaimed hurriedly, his buzzing and humming tone lilting upwards in excitable sound bits before Johnathan emerges from the side of the truck, his face now covered with a black acrylic mask covered in silver filigree overlaying the hardened, dark face-plate beneath and cuts him off.
“IDEA... listen... if I follow the doctor's orders I won't be back to the ring for another few months. It's been too long already... and I ain't waitin' for a few MORE months to pass me by. That's for damned sure.” John growled as his gravely voice echoed from beneath the fancy mask, muffled just a bit, and as intimidating as ever.
“John Cable. There is nothing wrong with being one hundred percent healed before returning to the employment of an industry that you truly don't need. There is no reason you should put your future well being on the line the way that you are for vengeance. There is no need to hurry...” the R2 unit chirped and buzzed above he truck as John look up at it from the driver's side of the Axtgriff from behind small holes in the intricately silver lined mask.
“There is every need to hurry... maybe not for you... but for me, there absolutely is... and to be fair... I wouldn't say it's for vengeance as much as justice.” John explains dryly as he towels off his legs and chest with an over-sized fluffy gray towel.
“John Cable. If justice were in fact your goal, you would have told the officers who investigated the assault what the men looked like who commit these crimes, and allowed them to search for them and prosecute them to the full extent of the law. Many crimes were committed that night against you, and they would have easily served time for those crimes after your lawyers were through with them. In addition, if this were your goal as you say, you would have testified to the belief of their involvement with one, Fred Debonair, and had him charged in connection with the crimes for conspiracy and coercion to commit, if not directly hiring those men to commit those crimes outright. I do not believe Justice is what you are seeking at this time. Please explain if I am incorrect?” the R2 unit buzzed and hummed at him as it floated down next to the man, and tilted its bright green 'eyeball' light at him quizzically with a slightly audible whirring as the lens focused on Cable.
“Justice is not just getting criminals convicted for their crimes and making sure they serve sentences in jail. It is not always believing in the process and allowing the system to take it's time to work the way it's supposed to. Sometimes, maybe even most of the time, this is what justice looks like... but there are other times... plenty of em too... where Justice looks like vengeance... but it's more of a lesson than anything else. Sometimes, Justice is when you teach a man he's gone too far... crossed one too many lines... and now its time to suffer for the transgressions against you or others. Sometimes, a man needs to become the lesson... so that others can see what happens when you've fucked around and the time for finding out has drawn nigh... and it's high time Fred found out...” John growled as he packed his gear and backpack back in the bed of the truck and climbed into the Axtgriff FTV.
“John Cable. This makes little sense to me. It is neither legal nor ethical to withhold information about the investigation, and highly counterproductive to their case. It would seem you have not stated your intentions truthfully, as yet, and I still do not see how...” IDEA buzzed again as John started to close the door.
“IDEA... sometimes the law doesn't prevent crimes from happening. It's a great tool to use after the fact... but preventing crimes from happening to you isn't about prosecuting the assholes who committed them, and... if you let them commit the crimes in the first place, you still suffer from the damage they caused in the mean time. The law doesn't prevent those crimes from effecting your life forever after they have been committed... but prevention... making sure the people who would commit those crimes know better... making yourself not a target worth the bother... that takes something far more brutal than just prosecution. Sometimes... you have to show them why they should have left you alone.” John growls beneath his mask again, his tone menacing and fraught with danger.
With a soft hiss, the door closed and the engine roared to life as the long, thin green lights kicked on and flashed to life one after another in sequence up the hood, and over the roof then down the sides of the fenders. The whir of the Dimensional Engine spooled up and whined a distinctive pitch while IDEA settled into it's port perch in the back wall of the cab of the truck. Moments later, a maelstrom of bright green hard-light swirled and coalesced around the truck before it vanished into thin air with a loud POP.
* * * * *
The macabre festival surrounding the Calamity Chamber was in full swing, and revelers were packed in to the grounds from fence to fence. The rides were popular, the food vendors were slinging wares left and right, and money was flowing freely into the pockets of the men and women responsible for the event. A press conference was about to begin concerning the matches and the card for the SPLAT! Event later that week, and reporters were lining up along the rope cordoned podium to ensure they got to ask their pertinent questions of the men and women who would be in attendance. The fans had a need to know, and these fine folks were going to do their best to provide all the answers to every question they could think of.
After what seemed like ages to the Beast, he was waved at behind the curtain by a stagehand, and he knew his turn finally had come. After standing from the folding chair backstage, John straightened his charcoal colored suit jacket and put his deep navy tie in place before checking his matching pocket kerchief for proper position.
He checked his black Tag Heuer Lexi had gifted him for Christmas...
20 minutes late... Geez.
This was going to take all day, and there was still the meet and greet and autograph session after this, too.
“OK R2-IDEA... Text catering... “Push back the delivery an hour, please? Things are running a little long here, and I won't have time to eat until after at least the meet and greet. Hopefully I can get 20 minutes between that and the Autographs. Thanks.” John says into his phone as it sends the missive and he approaches the side of the stage. He slips the device into his pocket as the R2 chirps a confirmation and Cable steps out onto the stage.
“And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, Representing the WGWF, former two time WGWF World Heavyweight Champion, Philanthropist, and founder of the New Breed Foundation, Johnathan... the Beast... Cable!” the announcer tries to sound enthusiastic over the mic, but is obviously just going through the motions, but the small crowd pops for the Beast nonetheless. Several 'Unleash the Beast' T-Shirts can be seen among the fans in attendance, and as John makes his way from behind the curtain, the pop stalls, and the fans gasp in shock at seeing John back under a mask after all these years.
He makes his way to the podium across stag as the fans just stare in anticipation and the reporters all start waving their hands frantically to get the first questions in. John takes the mic and sets it just below his face, before clearing his throat and waving the hands down politely.
“Before we begin the question section of the day, I have a few statements that may answer some of those questions for you, so bare with me a few moments as I address the elephant in the room.” his deep gravely voice echoes among the walls and rafters of the auditorium as he fans simmer down and the reporters take their seats.
“First and foremost... the mask. I know that long term fans of the New Breed Foundation will remember the mask days. They know all too well why I wore them, and they also know why I eventually took them off. The damage done to my face at the hands of Straight, Hate, the Royal Family, and several other 'men' during my career has been extensive, and to some, the sight of it can be jarring, and even frightening.” John begins his explanation forlornly. The crowd makes hushed sympathetic noises, some of them remembering those distant days in John's career all too well.
“Two months ago, as may of you know, I was brutally assaulted by four men outside of a WGWF Show. I have not been seen on air until today since that incident outside of news reports and a few YouTube Channels who were covering the story, and that has been mostly due to the aggravated damage done to my face, among the many other injuries I suffered that night, and the lengthy healing process I have undergone to even be able to compete in this match for the TIA World Heavyweight Championship. It has been a very long and arduous road of recovery, and I have spent all of my effort and all of my time in the last two months focused solely on getting better fast enough to fulfill my obligation to this match. There are some other driving factors in that determination to return, but the TIA World Heavyweight Title has definitely been one of the factors playing heavily on my mind to make this recovery as expeditious as I could.” John continues as a fan in the back shouts out towards the crowd...
“We love you John!” the man screams above the fans.
“I love you too, and you know I do.” John says to loud cheers from his faithful Breeders.
“However... while there are a lot of factors at play in my mind about my return... the TIA Title and Fred Debonair are among my top priorities right now. I have worked very hard... pushing every limit I thought I had to get healthy enough to return for this Chamber Pay Per View, and luckily... I exceeded my expectations as I always do, and I'm proud to say I'm healthy enough to make this 5 Corners match the pinnacle of the Pay Per View, AND walk away as the first ever Men's TIA World Heavyweight Champion.” John says as the crowd roars in support of the former Champ.
John poses a bit for the crowd and then gets back to the podium and points at a reporter in the front.
“Are you 100% after the injuries from two months ago?” the young brunette lady asks.
“Honestly, no. I don't know a wrestler out here with the years on them that I have that is ever working at 100% though, so realistically, it wouldn't surprise me on my best day if I'm only running at 80%.” John laughs with the crowd at the joke before continuing.
“No... seriously... I think 80% is realistic. I still have some tender spots, and my face... well... it's been better, and coming from me, that's saying a LOT.” he laughs with everyone again before pointing to a man a couple of rows back.
“If you aren't at 100%, how do you plan to win the match at Calamity Chamber? Your opponents are very good at what they do. Are you sure you're up for this?” the man asks as politely as possible given the nature of the question.
“Son... I am aware that the men in this match are all very good at what they do. Collectively, there are many amazing athletes in this match. There is a difference though between them and me... and simply put... I have a drive inside of me that can not be stopped when I put my mind to the goal... and I have not been so focused on the goal as I am right now in quite a few years. That TIA Title deserves a Champion that will represent it well and make sure it's coveted the way it deserves... especially as an inaugural Champion. While some of the men in this match did very well in the WSOW... this ain't a TV Casting... this is wrestling... and inside those ropes... the Beast is not to be trifled with. None of them have ever been in the ring with me before, and while they can spend all the hours watching footage that they want... they will never know what it's like in there with me until it's too late. Come Sunday... the world will bear witness to the crowning of the Beast as the First Ever TIA World Heavyweight Champion. Wait for it... and watch in terror as the world watches me take what I deserve for a change.” Cable says with an air of pride as the scene fades to black.