| Why do I sound redundant?; RP 1 for Showdown #030 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jun 20 2008, 06:13 AM (86 Views) | |
| Evil Incarnate | Jun 20 2008, 06:13 AM Post #1 |
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sVo Contender
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As usual, we begin in nothingness.Yet, we are soon met with the voice of Evil Incarnate. So many chiefs, not enough warriors. Sounds redundant doesn't it? It should. I've spoke this ever since I've came here to SVO. Everyone wants to rule the world here. Everyone wants to be the man and not get their hands dirty. We begin with a cliché, but it seems almost form fitting. That is the problem with this world. Nobody is willing to do the work anymore. Everyone here talks big but nobody here is willing to stain their hands with blood. First though, considering what this World is exactly truly depends on your point of view. I like to keep the vision of the world small so I microcosm the world into being the SVO. A place where everyone wishes to be part of a machine. They want to be a cog. A place where men attempt to strike fear into the hearts of their opponents, in order to beat them in a gladiator-esque forum. They want to be respected. A place where men want to victimize and be the best in this so-called world. Silence for a moment. Again this is nothing new from me but I feel as if I must reiterate myself because of the fact that so far my words have gone unnoticed. A "roll the dice" match is the best that the powers that be here in the SVO can come up with for somebody as dominant as I am? Pause. Why must I ask questions, why must I continue to fight this when we all know what I want. There seems to be a championship that commands power. There is a championship that is the stepping stone to everything that I want in this world. Why is it not around my waist right now? Why is it just sitting there with no purpose? Why? Music plays in the background while fade up and see we are walking down rows of books on either side of us. The sounds of orchestral harmony ring through the walls of literature, as we take turns down the narrow halls of books. Until, eventually we come to an open foyer. Levels of stairs lead up to a top level where a large wooden chair with a faded red cushion stands. The chair is empty at the time, but a dread seems to have taken hold of the room as the chair is seen. The music reaches its peak into a cymbal crash followed by a quick fade out of the sound. We are now left in the complete silence of the great library. Surrounded by books. Enveloped by quiet. And then, it happens. Hush little baby....don't say a word.... Drew sings almost like he did to his daughter Kerry. A pause, with the throaty chuckle that Drew Carrig is known for. That song...I use to sing that to my daughter every single night before she went to sleep. I want you to think about that Billy. This really is a match I've been looking for because your a man that honors GOD. Your a man who preaches "his good word." I want you to answer me this though, how is GOD good when he is the one that stole my life as I knew it away from me? How is it that this GOD good when he ruined my life? How is this GOD good when he stole everything I've had away from me? How is this GOD good, when he unleashed this demon known as Drew Carrig upon the world? Another chuckle. I want you to realize that GOD means absolutely nothing to me. You can drift from preaching all you want but know that he means absolutely nothing to me so whatever you can come up with in your fictional tales from The Bible, they have no bearing on this matchup. I want you to realize that you are just as insignificant and powerless as everyone else here. No GOD will save you, no matter how much you speak and preach to him. The camera blinks, and suddenly kneeling at a bedside with the man we've grown to know all too well. Evil Incarnate. As I've told all of those that have fell before you "Preacher," you better get to know GOD very well in the coming days because if you haven't known him yet, you will get to meet him first hand after I am through with you. Carrig sighs. I want you to leave you with one more image. I want you to know what I go through every night. Visions of death. Visions of pain. Visions of absolute hatred. I awake drenched in sweat, and attempt to rid the images from our mind. I gag, I spit, I shake, I yell and scream but it doesn’t change anything. These images haunt me like ghosts from my past. Like that one mistake that I've always made, it never leaves ever leaves me. It follows me to the bathroom. It follows me out to the balcony. It follows me down fourteen stories to the ground. It even follows me into the great void that I metaphorically walk into every time I inflict pain onto myself. It isn’t living outside of me, haunting me intentionally. This vision. This pain. This hatred lives in every one of us has come out and taken charge of me. And some of us have no control over it, and it spills over onto the table. For everyone to see. Then, no more hiding behind smiles. No more hiding behind all of the bullshit that each of us takes for granted. We are now naked. We are now vulnerable. And at that moment, when we are at our most vulnerable, is when the darkness begins to swallow up the light. And slowly, we lose our happiness and are left with the quiet nothingness of the void. We are left with the absoluteness of death. Remember this you bible pushing man, you can't convert somebody whose already sold his soul to hell. A tear comes from Drew Carrig's eye as the scene fades to black. |
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8:37 AM Jul 11