| Prologue: And As Rome Burned...; Nero -VS- Rey Rosario | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 13 2011, 11:40 PM (272 Views) | |
| Bond | Jan 13 2011, 11:40 PM Post #1 |
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_____________________________________________________________________________________ _____________________________________________________________________________________ Prologue: And As Rome Burned... _____________________________________________________________________________________ I wasn't always like this. I used to be your average run of the mill child next door. I had my army men. I had my Tonka trunks. I had the perfect home. Mom, Dad, little Bro, and a dog named Skippy. But all of that changed one night. I was 10 years old and it was the night before Christmas. And all through the house, not a creature was stirring--well, except me. I crept out of my bed and walked outside. I stared at the house. I stared at the pretty orange glow. The brightness. The heat it gave off from. I held onto my blankey in my red footed pajamas and I stood and gazed upon the house as flames overtook it. It was beautiful. The flames they called to me. They spoke directly to me. I stood there and as neighbors rushed to me, I heard nothing. They spoke to me. They called to me. They cried out... but I heard nothing. I just stood and stared. The sounds of silence were the most beautiful thing I had ever heard. Like a Siren calling to me across the oceans near Ancient Greece, I've longed to hear it once more. I've searched my entire life for another moment where I can be at such great peace. I haven't found it... yet. But I will. I will find that moment, and when I do... I'll whistle a merry little tune in my head and remember the night my family died. Those were the days... _____________________________________________________________________________________ _____________________________________________________________________________________ I awoke one night and looked around me and saw the few remaining people still lingering is a mass orgy. Everyone else had fallen asleep, and as their naked bodies intertwined, I felt a calmness that rarely entered my mind these days. As I stood from the floor of pillows and grabbed a sheet to cover up my naked frame, I tiptoed around the bodies of those sleeping silently. Members exposed for all the world to see. Their faces still painted in a blend of sexuality and fierce passion that few have known since the days of Caligula. I smiled as I looked down and saw two men snuggled up close together. I remember when I felt love like that. Now all I search for is a quick release to appease me momentarily. I step out onto the old stone balcony through sheer, red curtains and stop and pause at the pale moon light. A few stars show brightly, but for the most part, it was cloudy and the cool night air just made things much more comfortable for me. When I look back at my life and I see that I've never been one to follow the crowd, I realize how lonely the path less chosen can be. But it never stopped me from being successful. I completed my education. I inherited my parent's fortune, who inherited it from their parents, and so on. I've never had to work a day in my life, and I haven't. I float through life aimlessly, searching for the next thrill to fill a void long left vacant. After the death of my family that Christmas Eve so many years ago... I was never looked at the same again. My innocence had faded and people accused me of setting the blaze. I was called a "freak" and a "weirdo"ť and even the occasional "sociopathic psycho who set his house on fire because he was mad at his parents and wound up killing his entire family"... ahh, my childhood. I smiled to myself remember how many times I would get into fights just because I could. I was called a bad seed. I was called a rotten apple. I was called a murdering hermit; all because I chose to be different. Because I chose to be alone rather than surround myself with mediocrity. I am the greatest Artist the world will ever know, and all I ever get from anyone is a snarl, a gasp, a wide-eyed stare and then a snicker. People don't care about those who are different. Those who march to the beat of their own drum. People who are different like me, all we ever get are pushed around, spat upon, and bullied. But I stood up for myself, and I met violence with violence. I was vicious before anyone else could. And I was left alone. You stab somebody in the thigh with a pencil in homeroom, and see who's crazy enough to fuck with you. You stuff the school jock, naked into a glass trophy case, gagged and bound and surrounded by the corpse of a dead cat--and nobody will ever mess with you again. I was mocked and ridiculed all my life, and when people call you a monster--you become one. Do I regret it? No, not once. And as I pulled my covers over my shoulder and embraced my own touch, I remembered the last time I felt as good as I did in the days of my youth. I remember the sensation of his warm fluids all over me and the overwhelming joy that turned into a full on orgasm. His blonde hair. His bronze skin. Oh, it was just like a schoolgirl crush--an infatuation that hit me just then and there. And together we emerged into one act that would remain with us forever. It was just as natural as making love to a woman.. Or a man. Whichever, whenever. It felt right. The feeling of my instrument meeting his body. I moan softly to myself. A sinister smile covers my pale face, my jet black hair blending in with the dark night sky. They always said it was darkest before the dawn, but I felt the light of the moon always added a bit of romance to any occasion. And as I dropped the sheet and turned back into my chambers, a light red light glowing upon the few remaining souls left engaging in the act of passion, I couldn't help but remember that beauty was only skin deep. And as I reemerged into my den and the patrons gathered around me and led me into their sacred act of love making... I remember the look in his eyes as I stole his most precious commodity, his most beloved possession and his most prominent feature. I took his innocence and I now carry it above my heart, where it belongs. Mmmm. The pleasures of life. _____________________________________________________________________________________ _____________________________________________________________________________________ Three seconds. That's all it takes. This business isn't about second chances. It's about first encounters. You never have a second chance to make a lasting impression. So when I walk out into the lion's den for the very first time on Saturday Night, and I bask in the awe of all the people watching me dismantle a fixture of Showdown each and every week, I want them to remember my name. I want them to remember my face. I want them to remember what I looked like as I destroyed the very first name to be added to my list of victims. My name is Nero. I am your Leper Messiah. And I am here not for vengeance. Not for glory. And not for pride. I am here to take the world by it’s throat and strangle the life right out of it--and turn it into my own personal plaything. Rey Rosario seems to think that defeating a no-namer. A man with no identity in this promotion will boost his career. Put him back on track to a garnering a shot at the sVo Heavyweight Championship. He seems to believe that by defeating a person who has never stepped foot into an sVo ring, holds no real drawing power for this promotion, that by pinning him--he'll some how prove he's owed something. That's the problem with people these days. They want everything handed to them. They don't want to earn anything. They want to take the least production way to the top, all because they're lazy. Their delusions of grandeur have been placed on an unreachable goal and they never realize this until it's too late. When they've wasted their lives fighting for something they were never good enough to get in the first place. Rey Rosario will never, ever become the sVo Heavyweight Champion. He's not good enough. He's not smart enough. And he's certainly not got the brains nor the brawn to achieve it. I am a man who knows what he wants. I like the simple things in life, like choking a man until he passes out just to see him turn blue. I like to paint portraits of corpses involved in an orgy of death and lust. I like to watch a man on death row struggling for life after they've injected him with liquid death. Rey Rosario thinks he knows what he wants. He thinks he can accomplish it by resting on the merits of defeating no-namers and those who lack importance. But this isn't the way to accomplish anything. This isn't how you make an impact. You make an impact, Rey, by going out there and proving to all of the doubters that you are one seriously fucked up individual. You go out there and you massacre all expectations of failure, and you go out there and prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that you will destroy each and every person who crosses your path. By chariots of fire and beneath the view of the great God Zeus himself, I vow to destroy your chances at making an impact this week. I promise to dash these false hopes you hold of ever becoming a champion, something you don't deserve. I have done nothing here to invoke feelings of fear. I have done nothing make people gulp as I walk past them. But trust, after Saturday Night, when Showdown hit's the airwaves, people will take notice. And it won't be by just defeating you Rey Rosario. Oh no, because come Saturday Night, I will make an impact that far surpasses anything anyone has yet done. It's time to make my mark here. And the Sanctioned Violence Organization will never be the same again. As sure as Rome burned, as sure as Cesar was killed, and as sure as Hades himself will unleash the hounds of hell to protect his beloved Persephone... I will make the world stand up and recognize what a man such as myself is capable of. And come Sunday Morning; everyone will have the name of Nero, dancing on their lips. _____________________________________________________________________________________ _____________________________________________________________________________________ |
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2:32 PM Jul 11