Post by Thomas Snow on Feb 1, 2021 23:37:10 GMT -5
(Wake up, you better open your eyes
Look around ‘cause there’s so much love to lose
Heavy is the heart of the one who walks alone
Let ‘em know that you’re coming for the throne
So don’t walk alone)
The scene opens on a house in the middle of the night. The cold Wisconsin wind blows on the otherwise quiet and still scene.
A bright light suddenly shines through an upstairs window and a tall shadow crosses the wall followed by a door closing. After a few moments, a tired voice can be heard.
Derrick..? What the hell are you doing…?
Some splashing sounds are heard throughout different rooms of the house. The door of the initial room can be heard again as the second person follows the first. Her voice is panicked, frantic.
Derrick? Derrick what the fuck are you doing! Stop!
The unmistakable sound of a match being struck is heard, followed by a scream by the woman before the scene is filled with a bright flash of light, filling the entire shot with white. Screams and cries are heard. The pained sounds continue until they slowly die out. The whiteness slowly fades, returning to the dark house, smoke billowing from every window and crack…
The shot zooms out, the smoking house getting smaller and smaller out of view until…
Derrick snaps back to reality, his eyes wide with shock from the daydream. He looks around at his surroundings. His daughter Makayla sleeping soundly in his arms, his wife Geri leaning on him with her head on his shoulder as the two watched a movie on television. He looks down at the sleeping baby and at his loving wife and starts to calm down a little. But his dream still lingers in the back of his mind...
But what scares him the most about his vision… He wasn’t really against it...
Derrick passes Makayla off to Geri as he gets to his feet. He kisses his wife before throwing on his jacket and making his way outside, as if something were pulling him...
----
So… Here we are again.
Derrick is once again standing on the deck of his house, leaning over the railing, staring out at the forest, as if it was beckoning him. He stands still for a few moments, keeping his eyes locked on the snowy woods...
Portia, I don’t know why our paths keep crossing. But quite honestly, I don’t care. You got the better of me last time around.
...No, actually, you got the better of Johnny Stylez. Which isn’t hard, actually. But the fact is, you managed to cost me my debut match in Revolution One. And now I plan on getting a little bit of payback this week when I beat you for a chance at the International title.
I hope you don’t think our last meeting will have any weight when it comes to this time around. In our last meeting, I was handcuffed to a piss poor excuse for a teammate who was more focused on showing off and running his mouth than actually winning. So I practically handed you that victory. This time, however, will be much different.
This time, I don’t have Stylez to drag me down. I’m not fighting for a pair of tag titles with the last person I want as a partner. Now, I’m fighting for a shot at the International title.
I’m fighting you, Portia. You’re standing in the way of me and the International title. So I’m going to beat you.
A flash of light crosses the screen. Vayden’s eyes glow a bright red for the briefest of moments.
I’m sure you know a thing or two about getting beat by now. Sure, you got a lucky break or two in that tag team tournament. But when it mattered most, under the bright lights of the finals, you failed. Your overeagerness and youthful ignorance cost not only you but your partner as well.
How does that feel? Not only did you choke away a championship for you, you just had to go and ruin it for someone else too. Now, granted, I’m glad Hearts got fucked over, so I guess I have to thank you for that. But nevertheless, it’s pretty cold-blooded of you to screw your own partner over so damn hard. Maybe you’re finally taking my advice after all.
Or maybe you’re coincidentally stupid when it comes to performing on the big stage. Probably the latter, maybe both!
Trust me, Portia. I know what it’s like to be in your position. You’re young, just starting out on your career. You hit the ground running, pick up a few good wins, you start to get an ego. Think you’re hot shit.
But then you hit the ceiling, you lose and keep losing. It snowballs until you’re forced to rebuild from the ground up.
The only difference is… I managed to become a champion during my rise. Twice. I held that thing longer than anyone else. I was un-fucking-touchable. But you? You couldn’t even make it through a tournament before choking it all away.
The cold Wisconsin wind blows, sending quiet whistles throughout the area.
That’s the difference between you and me. I’m a champion. I’m built to last. And when it’s time to tear down and start over, I’m more than capable of doing so. But you? You’re just going to fall flat on your face again and again, just like you did when you let Amy down
The last time we faced off, Portia, you accused me of using special effects and CGI… Typical. You don’t understand something, can’t possibly fathom what is happening… so you just assume it’s fake. You don’t understand so instead of educating yourself, you simply play it off as if it isn’t real.
Derrick smirks an evil smirk.
I assure you, Ms. Alexander, this is all real. And you have no idea what the fuck is coming. No gimmicks, no false imagery, this is real fucking life. I’m going to make sure you fucking realize that when I drive your skull through the mat then drive my knee into your face. Maybe then you’ll finally realize the true danger you’re all in…
Good luck, Portia. Try not to blow this opportunity like you did the last one…
Derrick walks out of the frame, leaving the shot focused on the ominous forest behind him… For a split second, a figure can be seen. He’s dressed in all black including the mask. He stares directly at the viewer from afar. A quiet whisper slowly builds into a sort of scream, the same phrase over and over…
LOOK AWAY IT DOES NOT MATTER
The whispers continue as the shot fades to black...