Post by Khaos on Apr 19, 2021 14:30:05 GMT -5
(OOC Note: No time for "Story-Time" this week so you get what you get, hope you still enjoy...? lol)
Damien Carter sat on the long wooden bench in his dressing room, alone and contemplative of the nights happenings. First the match with Casey Holliday. Yet again, a new upstart had taken him to his limits, nearly routed him, and this… right after he had just beaten Cartier for the Legacy Heavyweight Championship. He would’ve thought he’d have been better prepared, made quicker work of the young challenger, but there he was… a half-second away from defeat. There was this weird sense of satisfaction in being the “underdog”; of seeing that moment in your opponents eyes where they realized they had fucked up, they had underestimated you, and that they had already lost even before they had a chance to course-correct. For some reason, Damien seemed to have earned this reputation that he didn’t take his opponents seriously; or that he was always overlooking them. If they only knew better…
But let them think what they want, let them act how they want; the fact of the matter was that he was the Legacy Heavyweight Champion and that he had beaten one of the best in the business to earn this title. He knew Cartier was out there in the weeds waiting for him, ready to strike. He thought the attack would come from her; in some sort of retaliation against him for beating her at Ides. But no, instead… it was Cerise…
Damien held his head in his hands, still feeling where the doctors had pulled the shards of glass out of his skull from the champagne bottle she had ceremoniously smashed over his cranium. They had told him he would need stitches, but he was in no rush to get them. Like her betrayal, the wound was still fresh and wouldn’t be healing anytime soon. Jerika Mason had attempted to get a word with him but, now more than ever, he was in no mood for any of her questions. Instead, he allowed a lone cameraman to sit with him, record his every movement, heed his every word, and deliver the message that he needed to send…
They sat in silence for the longest time, the only relative noise being that of the cameraman’s heavy breathing. Damien sat so still that, at times, it looked as if he may’ve simply passed on to the next world. But then he’d blink, or exhale softly, and the cameraman knew that there was still life left within his veins…
"I could’ve gone anywhere,” Damien began, his eyes scanning the very floor where Cerise had left him a bloodied mess. “Had my pick of where I could’ve enlisted my services. Believe it or not, Revolution1 isn’t the only wrestling federation out there. But this place seemed different; special. And she agreed with me, she saw the possibilities for us here. At first, everything seemed as if it was meant to be. We were taking no prisoners; we were putting the entire locker room on notice. Hell, we were so dominant that we scared off the Tag Team Champions; beat them so badly that we haven’t seen or heard from that ever since. In hindsight, that was a bit of a mistake… considering the fact that we wanted those damned belts for ourselves. But I digress…”
Damien lifted his gaze, staring directly into the camera. He was looking into its lens and envisioning her face on the other end, watching, that crooked smile twist its way onto her lips. He knew that wherever she was, she was enjoying this…
“We were unstoppable,” Damien seethed, gritting his teeth. “Key word in that phrase being ‘were’. See, I tend to have a sixth-sense about these kind of things; I knew that something was off, even weeks ago. You tried to reassure me that everything was fine, that it was all in my head, but I should’ve trusted my instincts. First, it was Anya Coyle assaulting you after your match. I tried to rise to the occasion, defend your honor, challenged her to a fucking steel cage match and then… nothing. She ignores my challenge, hides behind the Left Hand, and retreats to Tuesday Night Sin where you, or I, can’t touch her. But what else could we do? I burned any and all bridges with the authority figures when I turned on my team at Allegiance and showed the world why There Can Never Be Order…”
Damien stopped short of finishing his catch phrase, instead turning to look at the Legacy World Heavyweight Championship that occupied the spot on the bench next to him; her spot, where she should be. His fingers flexed as he reached out to touch the title belt, only to recoil before they brushed against the gold-metaled plate, almost as if it were cursed.
“Then came your match against Miles-A-Way,” Damien somberly recalled. “You get hurt… again… and, again, I’m the one trying to make sure that you’re okay. Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch a friend get wheeled out of the ring in a stretcher, then watch them adamantly refuse any medical treatment? I was ready to leave with you then and there, if not for the fact that I had my contractual obligation to face Cartier in the main event that night. And what did you say? ‘Don’t worry about me, Damien. Go show them what you can do’.”
Damien’s fists clenched together tightly as he stared back into the camera once more.
“You know what the sad part is?” Damien practically scoffed at the thought now. “I thought that when my match with Cartier ended in a draw that night, that I had somehow let you down; that I should’ve done more to pick up that victory, to prove my worth.”
Damien turned back to the Legacy Heavyweight Championship, this time picking it up and holding it in his lap, his gaze solely on his name etched across the plate.
“But at Ides, I proved my worth,” Damien affirmed, more-so to himself. “I dethroned Cartier and I became the new Legacy Heavyweight Champion, and I did it…”
Damien’s gaze lifted to the camera again, speaking directly to her once more. The anger flowed through him now, his eyes ablaze with the heat of a thousand suns. His words lashed out from his tongue like fire from the mouth of a dragon. When his eyes locked on that lens, all he saw was her face burning before him.
“…without you!” Damien finished his thought, lifting the belt and resting it on his shoulder. “So explain to me again, Cerise… how have YOU helped ME!? What, exactly, have you accomplished so far in your tenure here at Revolution1… besides, of course, getting your ass put on the shelf twice in less than a month? See… I think you got it backwards; I think that I’m the one that helped you get to where you are today; I’m the one that made you relevant. And you couldn’t handle that fact, could you? You couldn’t handle the thought that someone like me – someone “ordinary” – could achieve the things that I did. See, you may have the legacy of this business flowing through your veins Cerise, but I have the Legacy Heavyweight Championship… not you!”
Damien’s eyes went to his Amelia Hearts build-a-bear on the floor, aptly nicknamed “Twisty” in homage of the “Twisted Sister” herself.
“As for my antics,” Damien breathed, a small smile forming across his face. “We are in the entertainment industry, are we not? See… Cerise… I thought you of all people would understand. Being unpredictable, it gives you a certain psychological edge. Go back and watch the Allegiance tape; see the confusion in Amelia’s eyes when I handed her my little ‘peace offering’. Pay attention to the look on Johnny’s face when I wrapped my hand around my own ‘teammates’ throat and sent him crashing down to the mat with the Cataclysm. It’s all just mental warfare, all just fun and games…”
Damien came back to reality, glaring back at the camera once more, the snarl replacing his smile and his eyes burning with vengeance.
“… until someone gets hurt.” Damien concluded. “You hurt me, Cerise… and now, I’m going to hurt you. See, up until now, all the world has seen from me has been the fun-loving, erratic, quirky side of Khaos. But your betrayal triggered something deep within me, a bottomless pit of sorrow, torment, and agony. And I can’t wait to share this pain with you; to unleash it all on you. So I hope you’ve made peace with yourself Cerise because I’m coming for you, and hell is coming with me.”
Damien sighed as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the promotional flyer for the Legacy show on April, 20th. His eyes scanned over it, paying little attention to any of the matches except for his in the main event. Had he not been so laser-focused, he might’ve seen her name on the card…
“Someone has a funny sense of humor,” Damien rolled his eyes, crumpling up the piece of paper and tossing it aside. “Pairing the two of us together… one more time; like we’ll simply act as if nothing ever happened. Maybe they think that this is just how we are; we are Psykhotic after all. But they couldn’t be further from the truth. Well, about the ‘acting like nothing happened’ part. See, you made your statement loud and clear on the last show, Cerise. Message signed, sealed, and delivered. Now it’s my turn. I'm not going to let you or your jealousy get in the way of my Legacy. I’ve wanted my shot at redemption against Chelsea ever since she beat me in her debut. Now she’s the Sin World Champion and I’m the Legacy World Champion. What a difference a month can make…”
Damien drew pause but for a moment, as if realizing that a month ago, he and Cerise were still allies. He knew that this business had a way of corrupting those if you let it, but he thought she was different.
“I know what Chelsea is capable of,” Damien began again. “And Aphrodite? Well, beating five others to become the number one contender is no easy feat. So let it be on the record, I am not taking any of these women lightly… and that includes you, Cerise. You may be my ‘partner’ in this match, but I’ll be keeping my head on a swivel. Hell, if you knew what was good for you, you’d simply stay out of my way. Because you, more than anyone else, know me; you know I’m not a patient person. If given the opportunity – whether it’s before the match, after the match, hell… even during the match – I will get my hands on you and I will make you regret the day you ever crossed me.”
Damien reached down, picking up his last true friend in this business – ‘Twisty’ – and placed her by his side, occupying Cerise’s old spot on the bench. He then glanced at the title belt on his shoulder, as if needing the reminder of why he was doing all of this in the first place. This wasn’t his choice – Cerise had forced his hand – but he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, regardless of who threw down the gauntlet. Damien’s eyes shifted to the camera again as he leaned forward, the fire raging within as his stare was enough to send shivers down the camera man’s spine.
“Danger Zone can’t get here fast enough,” Damien retorted. “I hope that you’re ready Cerise; I hope that you are all ready – ready to embrace the darkness.”