Post by Khaos on Jun 20, 2021 16:44:39 GMT -5
Damien Carter sat in the front pew of the derelict building; long ago a house of holy worship for the Almighty, now nothing more than a cheap refuse for the homeless souls that needed a place to bed down for the night. The wood was broken and rotted through, a few pieces of the ceiling long fallen away to reveal the night sky above. Rays of moonlight broke through the openings, illuminating areas of the church with its luminous glow, doing its best to fight back the darkness. But the darkness always won, always…
Damien sensed the documentary crew recording him, knew they had been following him for some time. He had been quiet of late, dealing with personal matters that didn’t require the ever watchful presence of the Revoultion1 audience. Some things were better left in the darkness, for if people knew the truth…
Damien lifted his gaze as his eyes went to the wooden cross that had long since fallen from the wall. It crudely leaned against the altar, the man nailed it to looking down as if the weight of the world had left him broken and beaten. He could sympathize with that man, if not for the fact that his suffering had long ago ended. But Damien’s pain lingered, always present, never giving him a moment of respite…
“Much has changed in my absence,” Damien started to speak, his voice echoing off the hollowed walls. “And yet, much has remained the same. People scramble over each other, like rats over cheese, clawing… scratching… doing all they can to reach the top of the mountain. When you’re at the bottom, looking up at the precipice, you begin to think… ‘this won’t be so hard’… but as the ascent begins, the air starts to grow thinner, you find it harder to get your footing, one wrong move and…”
Damien clapped his hands together, making almost a gun-shot sound that reverberated throughout the church, sending a pair of ravens off into the night, cawing in annoyance.
“I have been the Champion of Legacy since the Ides of March,” Damien declared, the fire in his veins burning as he recalled the moment he had dethroned Cartier. “For almost three months now, I’ve held onto the World Championship belt. During that time, I’ve faced the likes of: Cartier, Jessie Lee, Aphrodite IX, Cerise, Casey Holliday, and Chelsea LeClair… a rather impressive list of competitors if I do say so myself. But you know what all of those wrestlers have that Jalen Prince doesn’t…?”
Damien turns his attention to the camera, his eyes dark, brooding, violent.
“Balls,” Damien sneered, a twisted smile on his face. “Not anatomically, of course… that would just be…”
Damien shuddered at the thought as he tried to recollect himself.
“What I mean is, all of these women I listed before are strong… confident… willing to put it all on the line to achieve the ultimate victory, yet graceful enough to humbly accept defeat if fates wills it so,” Damien scratched at his chin, realizing there were a few on that list he had yet to get the best of. “But you Jalen… regardless if you win or lose… you assault your opponents like some sort of petulant child. The first of your victims was Legacy general manager, Thomas Snow. You assaulted him backstage after he congratulated you on your successful debut. Then came the attack on my friend, Arcana, following your tag team victory. And lastly, your ambush on Sora Weaver after he beat you and eliminated you from the Glory tournament.”
Damien cast a wayward glance back at the cross, the crown of thorns symbolizing the type of “glory” one could be subjected to, depending on the circumstances.
“Honestly Jalen,” Damien lowered his gaze, his words flowing freely from the depths of his soul – his darkness. “I don’t give a damn about you. I don’t care that you think you’re some fallen angel, exiled from the high Heavens because you grew some sort of superiority complex. I’ve faced far greater an opponent then you and when you step into that ring with me; I will do more than just contain you… I will banish you from my show. I will absolutely and utterly obliterate you until there is nothing left. Why? Because I fucking can! You all wanted a peak behind the curtains? You wanted to see what true ‘Khaos’ looks like? Well, be careful what you wish for because the darkness that I speak of isn’t some smoke and mirrors shtick like the Left Hand uses as scare tactics. It is real, and it exists right here…”
Damien balled up his fist and hit his chest, directly over his heart, to emphasize his point.
“So please Jalen, reveal yourself to me,” Damien hissed, gritting his teeth. “I beg of you, let me see the real you. Show me your angelic wings, so I may slice them from your body and make you bleed all over that ring. If you’re an angel, then I’m the demon sent to burn you alive… to torture your very soul… consume your essence of life… and to leave you a pile of ash that blows away in the wind. Even in your wildest dreams, you could never imagine the agonizing pain and torment that you will suffer by my hand. So pray to whatever God you believe in Jalen because the darkness is coming for you and you cannot escape it.”
Damien’s features relaxed a bit, almost as if he found sorrow in that last statement. After all, he felt as if he were just an extension of the Shadow Lord’s reach, spreading the darkness through his very actions. At times, it was tough to separate his true self from that of ‘Khaos’. His eyes wandered to the nearby stained-glass windows of the church, most broken either by vandalism or depreciation. For some reason, the sight reminded him of his very soul, how tattered and shredded it was.
“But enough about Mr. Prince, let’s get to the truth of the matter. You see… one thing that they try to warn you about when you first break into this business is that you should ‘never make any friends’,” Damien’s lips formed into a soft of half-smile. “I was never really one that gravitated towards any type of social circle in general, and that was by my own design – it never seemed to carry any type of long lasting significance in my life. After all, things change… people change… situations change… and you realize that it was all just a waste of time anyway. What’s the point in investing in something when it’s simply going to wither away and die in the end anyway?”
Damien took an ever-long glance around his surroundings, the condemned church nothing more than an eyesore that the community would do better to simply demolish and turn into a parking lot.
“But I suppose its human nature,” Damien mused, looking down at one of many scars he had received at the hands of his nemesis. “To be accepted, appreciated, loved. The problem with people like me is that when you find someone you have a type of connection with – a kindred spirit of sorts – you latch on to them tightly. You expect certain things from them; you tell yourself that this time, it’ll be different. But in the end, it always ends the same. You know why I was drawn to Revolution1 in the first place? Because of the environment, the talent, the comradery… that singular bond that the members of the Unstable have, that unwavering devotion to be there for each other, no matter what. How many times in my life have I searched for something like that, only for it to never turn out the way that I thought it would. Cerise… Arcana… Amelia Hearts… Jessie Lee… all of these people that I’ve tried to understand – to safeguard from the darkness; from me – and it’s never enough.”
Damien folded his hands together as he leaned forward, almost lost deep in thought. His family had died at a young age. He was an orphan without a home. And when that was taken from him too, he clung to Arcana – the one person he thought would be there with him no matter what. They had been bonded by fire after all, but even that wasn’t enough. She left him alone and he was forced to embrace the darkness. That path led him to Cerise. The two were dark, twisted, tortured… they had so many similarities they might as well have been kin. But she stabbed him in the back, choosing the Left Hand over him. He was lost, confused, and alone. He had tried to make friends with Amelia Hearts, offering her a peace offering of “Twisty” the bear. She knocked him on his ass. He had tried to protect Jessie Lee; he nearly got her killed when Anya took a blade to her throat.
“I’ve done much reflecting these past few weeks,” Damien finally spoke after a long, eerie silence. “For months I’ve done what I thought was ‘right’ – stood against Cerise and the Left Hand. They’ve run rampant, attacking anyone and everyone without any sort of rhyme or reason. They make enemies around every turn. What are their motivations? What is their end game? They don’t care about titles. All they care about is…”
Damien halted for a moment, as if a realization finally hit him.
“All they care about is… ‘Khaos’,” Damien shook his head as if he couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before. “The darkness in me, it lives in all of us. Perhaps I’ve been going about this all wrong; I haven’t been truly fighting against them, I’ve been fighting against myself – my true nature. I’ve been so focused on trying to push everyone away, keep them safe from the darkness within… but what if me letting go is what will be enough to finally vanquish the Left Hand? What if me becoming ‘Khaos’ once more is how I, finally, end their reign of terror once and for all?”
Damien turned to the camera, staring intently into it as the moon beams seemed to dim ever so slightly and the broken ruins of the church seemed to creak underneath some unforeseen burden of weight. Darkness flickered behind his eyes as he met the gaze of the lens, his focus burning through the camera and into the hearts and souls of those that would bare witness.
“Perhaps it’s time that I heed my own advice,” Damien began, a menacing grin creeping across his lips. “I think it’s time that I stop fighting who I am; stop pretending to be something that I’m not. Everything I’ve accomplished in my life, I’ve done on my own and without help from anyone else. To want to be accepted, appreciated, loved… those are mere human ambitions, and I’m so much more than that. I don’t need the likes of Amelia Hearts, Jessie Lee, Arcana, or Cerise! To hell with them! To hell with everyone! I am the Legacy World Heavyweight Champion! I am the one that dethroned Cartier! I am the one that has been carrying this show into the new era… the ‘Khaotic Era’. I will not be defeated by the likes of Jalen Prince, the Left Hand, or anyone else for that matter. This title represents everything that I am, everything that I was, and everything that I will be; this title is MY legacy, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let anyone take it from me! Don’t let my words scare you off though, I rather enjoy a challenge; so if you think you have what it takes, by all means… step up. Just be prepared to embrace the darkness…”
Damien lowered his gaze, that evil sneer forming across his lips once more.
“Because I have,” Damien whispered, the lights fading out.