Post by "The Wrestling Messiah" ACM on Oct 22, 2011 0:58:41 GMT -5
The scene opens up to pitch black screen. Nothingness consumes all of our senses but one. A soft platter echoes though the void, sounding like a single drop of water has struck something solid. A soft splashing is heard presumably as the cameraman tries to find his way through the abyss. Feedback from the camera's mic sounds as the cameraman fumbles around for the built in flashlight. The screen suddenly illuminates, the light's soft glow beats upon a algae veiled rock, small streams of water run along its cracked surface. The cameraman looks down, the lens reveal he is standing in a few inches of dark brown water, as the spotlight flickers faintly. He begins to hasten his pace, for he realizes the flashlight is about to go out. Sloshing through the muck, he advances deeper into the makeshift cave, as the light slowly begins to fade from view. The spotlight grows dimmer, and dimmer, then its gone. The guiding light has left the cameraman stranded and back to square one until he catches an orange glow to the left of the screen. He flocks to the light like a moth to a flame. He reaches his destination, and stops abruptly when a thick Irish accented voice is there to greet him.
"Longing for one more day. When we lose someone we love it seems that time stands still. What moves through us is a silence... a quiet sadness... A longing for one more day... one more word... one more touch... We may not understand why you left this earth so soon, or why you left before we were ready to say good-bye, but little by little, we begin to remember not just that you died, but that you lived. And that your life gave us memories too beautiful to forget. We will see you again some day, in a heavenly place where there is no parting. A place where there are no words that mean good-bye.".
The cameraman settles the lens on a breathtaking sight, throne carved out of the abundant granite shaped into a Celtic Cross sits in the middle of the orange glow. The glow itself is the sunlight shining through a gaping hole in the ceiling of the cave, creating a natural spotlight on the throne. Insects trapped in the light fly aimlessly, enticed by the glow. What sits upon the throne is a pale man, his red hair slicked back, gleaming in the sun. A red handlebar mustache runs down the side of his face and up around his upper lip, leaving his chin bare. A silver chain rest upon his neck, holding a silver Crossos pendant that sits on his bare chest, he shows no signs of the cold steel bothering him. Brown faded jeans contain his legs, black boots are his shoe of choice. Draped around his shoulders, a fur cape runs down his back, a gold chain loops through two holes on each shoulder holding it in place. His head rest upon his knuckles as if he is bored. It's one of SNME's newest signees Sheamus. He parts his lips to speak.
"Immortality....something that mankind has tried to grasp since the beginning of time. The empty expeditions to the fabled Fountain of Youth, the human sacrifices the Aztecs held atop pyramids, even the royal bloodbaths the Royal Family of England use to take centuries ago all for the right to live forever. Immortality has fueled the greed of humans for an eternity but the constant failures never seemed to deter the lads. Now in wrestling there is one man who has been chasing this intangible for his whole career. That brings me to my opponent, The Roy."
"Roy you began as a honest guy from the god forsaken place of Baltimore, but you didn't let this small bias steer you away from your dream. Your life began when you won the Custom Championship, christening it The "R" division title, you took SNME by storm. At that point of your career that title was your everything, it was your life, when you lost it was like ripping your soul from its vessel, you were empty, but did you let that slow you down lad? No, you breathed in your second wind, and knocked anyone who was in your way flat on their arse. This continued until you became the record breaking three time Custom Champion. This gave your life even more of a prestige, you where now in the annals of history. That shine began to dull when you realized the title you made your reason for being, was nothing but a mere stepping stone, to what you truly want to achieve. So you cast the stone into the pond and began to make your way to the other side."
Sheamus brings his forearm down from his face, and rest it along the armrest of the throne.
"You laid stone after stone until you got to the final gateway, and you cross the threshold into your prime when you achieved what only a few good fellers can say they've done, you became the World Heavyweight Champion. You stood at the top of the mountain, looking down on the pond and the path you tore your way through. Alas, this lasted only a few months as you where struck down from the mountain, as a new King took residence. Roy did you quit? No, you glared right at the precipice, and made the arduous climb back to the top, and took back what was rightfully yours. I have done the same thing twice in WWE.....but sadly this is were the similarities end lad."
"You lost your title again, and this time you didn't try to reclaim your life the hard way. Instead you now walk around lifeless, blind to the path that has led you to success your whole career, no you want the shortcut. I'm sorry lad, no one is going to hand you anything. You bitch and moan, carrying yourself like you are obligated to the title, as if you don't have to earn the right like each and every man in that locker room. Your life sparked when you had a chance to fight for contention, but you fell short as the "The Viper's" venom proved to potent, and threw you back into the woes of limbo. You now claim to be great, you demand respect. You become a King in limbo, a King of Nothing. You have nothing to command the respect of your feller wrestlers, you have nothing to fuel the flame, you have nothing left. Your are a empty husk of a man that claims to be a blessing. Well the times have changed, the tide is shifted, and what this company needs isn't a blessing......its a curse."
Sheamus rises slowly to his feet, as he does torches light one by one around the room, illuminating the cave revealing a gruesome sight. A hill of human skulls sit around the throne, filth and soot clinging to the ivory shell. A Triskilion is carved into the stone wall behind the throne, an Irish symbol for the three cycles of life. Sheamus reaches down, grasping a skull, a golden crown sits upon it. Sheamus prys the crown loose
"You see Roy immortality is real...The Rock, Triple H, John Cena are living immortals. They lost their heart and soul in the form of the Championships they attained numerous times, but time after time after time they set their life anew, as they reclaimed what they claimed to be rightfully theirs. The didn't give up, they didn't ask for shortcuts, there was no moaning and complaining....these guys took the knocks, the criticism, the mental fatigue, and came out stronger than ever in each and every reign. But you Roy.....you'll never reach immortality, it is that brass ring you claim to be yours but yet you refuse to reach out in a attempt to grab it. Roy you are a failure, and its time someone knock you down from you self imposed throne...that man will be me. I will take the long road, leaving skull after skull behind, until I become Champion, I will be reincarnated a stronger, faster, hardened warrior until I achieve immortality.....and the first skull will be yours......."
Sheamus casts the crown away, it gets lost in the sea of skulls. He grasps the skull in both hands, and crushes it, bone fragments fall from his hands, his fingers coated in a white dust. He looks into the the camera, with a mad look on his face as it zooms in slowly he speaks softly.
"I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow;I am the diamond glints on the snow. I am the sunlight that ripened grain;I am the gentle autumns’s rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush,I am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft star that shines at night.Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there; I did not die......"
The screen fades to black.
"Longing for one more day. When we lose someone we love it seems that time stands still. What moves through us is a silence... a quiet sadness... A longing for one more day... one more word... one more touch... We may not understand why you left this earth so soon, or why you left before we were ready to say good-bye, but little by little, we begin to remember not just that you died, but that you lived. And that your life gave us memories too beautiful to forget. We will see you again some day, in a heavenly place where there is no parting. A place where there are no words that mean good-bye.".
The cameraman settles the lens on a breathtaking sight, throne carved out of the abundant granite shaped into a Celtic Cross sits in the middle of the orange glow. The glow itself is the sunlight shining through a gaping hole in the ceiling of the cave, creating a natural spotlight on the throne. Insects trapped in the light fly aimlessly, enticed by the glow. What sits upon the throne is a pale man, his red hair slicked back, gleaming in the sun. A red handlebar mustache runs down the side of his face and up around his upper lip, leaving his chin bare. A silver chain rest upon his neck, holding a silver Crossos pendant that sits on his bare chest, he shows no signs of the cold steel bothering him. Brown faded jeans contain his legs, black boots are his shoe of choice. Draped around his shoulders, a fur cape runs down his back, a gold chain loops through two holes on each shoulder holding it in place. His head rest upon his knuckles as if he is bored. It's one of SNME's newest signees Sheamus. He parts his lips to speak.
"Immortality....something that mankind has tried to grasp since the beginning of time. The empty expeditions to the fabled Fountain of Youth, the human sacrifices the Aztecs held atop pyramids, even the royal bloodbaths the Royal Family of England use to take centuries ago all for the right to live forever. Immortality has fueled the greed of humans for an eternity but the constant failures never seemed to deter the lads. Now in wrestling there is one man who has been chasing this intangible for his whole career. That brings me to my opponent, The Roy."
"Roy you began as a honest guy from the god forsaken place of Baltimore, but you didn't let this small bias steer you away from your dream. Your life began when you won the Custom Championship, christening it The "R" division title, you took SNME by storm. At that point of your career that title was your everything, it was your life, when you lost it was like ripping your soul from its vessel, you were empty, but did you let that slow you down lad? No, you breathed in your second wind, and knocked anyone who was in your way flat on their arse. This continued until you became the record breaking three time Custom Champion. This gave your life even more of a prestige, you where now in the annals of history. That shine began to dull when you realized the title you made your reason for being, was nothing but a mere stepping stone, to what you truly want to achieve. So you cast the stone into the pond and began to make your way to the other side."
Sheamus brings his forearm down from his face, and rest it along the armrest of the throne.
"You laid stone after stone until you got to the final gateway, and you cross the threshold into your prime when you achieved what only a few good fellers can say they've done, you became the World Heavyweight Champion. You stood at the top of the mountain, looking down on the pond and the path you tore your way through. Alas, this lasted only a few months as you where struck down from the mountain, as a new King took residence. Roy did you quit? No, you glared right at the precipice, and made the arduous climb back to the top, and took back what was rightfully yours. I have done the same thing twice in WWE.....but sadly this is were the similarities end lad."
"You lost your title again, and this time you didn't try to reclaim your life the hard way. Instead you now walk around lifeless, blind to the path that has led you to success your whole career, no you want the shortcut. I'm sorry lad, no one is going to hand you anything. You bitch and moan, carrying yourself like you are obligated to the title, as if you don't have to earn the right like each and every man in that locker room. Your life sparked when you had a chance to fight for contention, but you fell short as the "The Viper's" venom proved to potent, and threw you back into the woes of limbo. You now claim to be great, you demand respect. You become a King in limbo, a King of Nothing. You have nothing to command the respect of your feller wrestlers, you have nothing to fuel the flame, you have nothing left. Your are a empty husk of a man that claims to be a blessing. Well the times have changed, the tide is shifted, and what this company needs isn't a blessing......its a curse."
Sheamus rises slowly to his feet, as he does torches light one by one around the room, illuminating the cave revealing a gruesome sight. A hill of human skulls sit around the throne, filth and soot clinging to the ivory shell. A Triskilion is carved into the stone wall behind the throne, an Irish symbol for the three cycles of life. Sheamus reaches down, grasping a skull, a golden crown sits upon it. Sheamus prys the crown loose
"You see Roy immortality is real...The Rock, Triple H, John Cena are living immortals. They lost their heart and soul in the form of the Championships they attained numerous times, but time after time after time they set their life anew, as they reclaimed what they claimed to be rightfully theirs. The didn't give up, they didn't ask for shortcuts, there was no moaning and complaining....these guys took the knocks, the criticism, the mental fatigue, and came out stronger than ever in each and every reign. But you Roy.....you'll never reach immortality, it is that brass ring you claim to be yours but yet you refuse to reach out in a attempt to grab it. Roy you are a failure, and its time someone knock you down from you self imposed throne...that man will be me. I will take the long road, leaving skull after skull behind, until I become Champion, I will be reincarnated a stronger, faster, hardened warrior until I achieve immortality.....and the first skull will be yours......."
Sheamus casts the crown away, it gets lost in the sea of skulls. He grasps the skull in both hands, and crushes it, bone fragments fall from his hands, his fingers coated in a white dust. He looks into the the camera, with a mad look on his face as it zooms in slowly he speaks softly.
"I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow;I am the diamond glints on the snow. I am the sunlight that ripened grain;I am the gentle autumns’s rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush,I am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft star that shines at night.Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there; I did not die......"
The screen fades to black.