Post by Khaos on Apr 4, 2021 16:35:44 GMT -5
Damien Carter lay in the middle of the ring, staring up at the rooftop dome over head as his fingers brush over the Legacy Heavyweight title that lays across his chest, rising and falling with each breath he took; reminiscent of Cartier’s rise to the top and then, subsequent, fall to “Khaos”. His eyes close as he let the memories and emotions of the final moments of his main event match wash over him…
Damien used Cartier’s own momentum against her, throwing her up into the air, only to catch her and slam her down with a vicious Pop-Up Powerbomb! He remembered seeing the back of her head crunch hard onto the mat, her eyes glazing over from the impact. And, yet, she still kicked out…
Cartier used her agility against him, moving around like a savage lioness on the prowl, lunging at him as her foot caught him directly under the jaw. He thought that had been it; so did she, apparently. But he found something inside himself, a power he hadn’t tapped in to in some time…
She went for the killing blow, rushed forward, wanted the Kinshasa. But he caught her, had it scouted. No, it was more than that. Damien concentrated harder, blocked out the memory of the feverish screams from the fans, ignored the overexcited commentary by the ring side announcers, and saw it then. Her foot buckled – the one she had previously injured, the very one he focused on during the match. He had been right in his early assessment, she hadn’t been 100%. And yet, she had still only been a second away from victory…
“Damien?” a familiar female voice broke him from his trance.
His eyes opened as he saw the omnipresent Jerika Mason standing over him. He had wondered how long it would take her to find him; not that he had it made very difficult for her. Damien rose to a sitting position, groaning from the various battle wounds he had suffered on this very night.
“What are you doing here?” Jerika questioned, the event having been over hours ago.
“You mean besides keeping the crew from doing their job?” Damien rhetorically asked, smirking.
His gaze went to the ring hands that waited impatiently on the outskirts, all of them wanting to do nothing more than their job and tear down the ring and pack it up for the next event. None of them, however, were bold enough to confront the new Legacy Heavyweight Champion and ask him to vacate the premises.
“Yes,” Jerika sighed. “I mean besides that.”
Damien didn’t answer Jerika but, instead, nodded his head to the interviewer, directing her to sit down. There might’ve been a time where she would’ve second guessed herself, let the fear take over and retreat to safety. But the curiosity, like always, won out in the end, as she lowered herself to her knees, her anxious eyes meeting his baleful stare.
“Do you believe in fate, Jerika?” Damien asked, his gaze unwavering, as if she held the secret to some long lost mystery.
“I- I’m-“ Jerika stammered, uncomfortably. “I’m n-not s-sure…”
“As far as back as I can remember, I feel like I’ve always been told ‘You can’t fight fate’,” Damien recalled. “Like some sort of ancient prophecy or hero’s destiny, things just happen the way they were always meant to. And, as far back as I can remember, I always fought against that notion. See, that’s the origin of ‘Khaos’, Jerika; that’s why I do the things I do, why people often label me things such as ‘unpredictable’ or ‘wild’. But I guess I have a new name people can call me…”
Damien’s eyes drift to the gold he held close to his chest.
“Champion…” Damien finished his thought, his glare cutting through Jerika as if she were to be his next opponent.
Coming to his senses, however, his features softened and Jerika was able to take a sigh of relief as Damien looked around the empty arena, contemplative.
“The thing about fate that I can’t stand is the fact that it’s inevitable,” Damien continued. “Like no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, you simply can’t stop it. Was it destiny that Cartier beat Miles-A-Way for the Sin World Heavyweight Championship? Was it fate that she, then, got drafted to Legacy, alongside yours truly? Was it happenstance that my tag team partner, Cerise, ended up on the shelf after suffering severe and devastating injuries on back-to-back shows, forcing me into singles completion? Was I prophesized to always beat Cartier and cement my legacy tonight?”
Damien recalled the shocked looks on all the fan’s faces when the final three count had been made and the referee had raised his hand as the victor.
“Or was it nothing more than dumb luck?” Damien finished, glancing back to Jerika.
“Luck?” Jerika guffawed, perplexed.
“In my short time here at Revo1, I’ve faced some stiff competition,” Damien began, forcing himself to look back to the title he would be defending sooner than later. “Among those is, no doubt, Cartier. She is a warrior, a true Champion in every sense of the term. And the simple fact that I beat her tonight doesn’t make that statement any less true. She did what any true fighter would, and that is to go down swinging. I know I haven’t seen the last of her; and I welcome the day that we meet again. Maybe on that day, fate will tell a different story…”
Damien looked past Jerika and to the oncoming security guards walking down the ramp way. They had, obviously, been summoned to remove him from the ring; clearly the new Champ had overstayed his welcome long enough.
“No rest for the wicked though,” Damien sneered, cracking his neck and forcing his way to his feet.
Jerika scrambled up as well, looking back to see the threat that had presented itself on the outside of the ring. The security stopped short of entering the squared-circle as Damien eyed each one of them up, before turning his attention to the restless interviewer.
“Next week,” Damien began, adjusting the title belt so that it rested comfortably on his shoulder. “The Khaotic Era begins… and my first victim will be Casey Holliday. The last time I went face-to-face with an unknown was when I faced Chelsea LeClair a few weeks back. And now look at us, both World Champions of our respective shows. Maybe Casey’s a future World Champion in her own right; or maybe she’s just one more person that I need to remind that, in this world, There Can Never Be Order… Only Khaos!”
Damien unfurled the Legacy World Title belt from his shoulder and laid it down on the mat at his feet, a wicked snarl twisting across his lips. Jerika took that as her sign to exit “stage left” as Damien lifted his hands and motioned for the security guards to “come and get him”.
“Now then,” Damien remarked, snarkily. “Who’s first?”