Post by Alexander Koresh & his Family on Aug 14, 2019 17:05:17 GMT -6
"III"
The world was dead but nobody had thought to tell it yet. How would someone have the audacity to presume that it could keep a secret like that from it? That was the bare truth of it, and it pleased my charge. Oh, there were things to be done yet before that day, debts to be paid and webs to be spun or broken, but the weight of the inevitable had settled across the way and weft of the world. Time was running out, and the beast was all but bled white. All good things do indeed come to an end.
So it had come down to this for our next show. That punk ass Johnny Stylez has ducked facing me himself to face me in the ring himself. He thinks that he has all the cards and that he controls my destiny. He cannot control Nocturnal. I have showed everyone over the years that I have been a part of all wrestling promotions that I have been a part of that I am a loose cannon. What has he shown the world? Cowardice and scheming amongst other skills with this drug habit of his will not help him. He deserves what is coming to him when I eventually get hold of him. And he will take it like the bitch he is.
Johnny thinks that he has all of the answers. But he don’t know the goddamn questions. No, I do. He thinks that because he can hide behind his match at the pay per view but that won’t save him. How naïve can he think I am?
I am supposed to be catching a plane from Houston, Texas across to Green Bay otherwise I would be in breach of my contract but for some reason I just can’t bring myself to even remotely care because the coward is ducking me. I have bled for this sport of mine in nearly every country over the years more than most that have been here through its short history.
Now that ass clown Jesse Styles has signed me in to some glorified battle royale at the pay per view with the chance to earn a sport at either the Trans-Atlantic Championship or the X-Core Championship. Jesse? I know it is not your fault as you have to answer to your board of directors but you know its money if me and Johnny faced each other. When I was in your position before you I could not do anything to stop someone trying to control me but I rebelled against him and escaped his grasp which is why I am different from that Nocturnal you remember but I can make you see sense, for I am not one that sits down peacefully to tyranny.
Johnny, Johnny... come out, come out, wherever you are. I understand you; more than you can fucking possibly comprehend. I got your blueprint stamped right here in my head, and I know what you are. You are nothing but pawns on a chessboard for the powers behind the throne. You move forward, never backwards. You spend all of your useless days clawing with your aching hands forward just to that beautiful moment, the moment where you sacrifice yourself in the name of your King. Who is your King? Here's a little help for you as I know something that you don't; your moment is closer than you think.
My life had never been straight forward. When I was but a young man I had got put upon the path that was laid out before me; where people had thought of me as being the voice of those that were unable to get themselves heard. I didn’t want that job and I didn’t revel in it. I actually rebelled against it as why should I be a voice for the faceless sheep of this realm. I couldn’t do that. I wasn’t to be trusted. I am Nocturnal for fuck sakes. I am not some Goth wannabie who dresses up like an extra of True Blood or Twilight to get attention.
That’s nothing new to me. People have to be goddamn original in this world of ours these days to get on with this industry but it’s hard to get your foot in the door especially with a promotion like New Edge Wrestling but Nocturnal does it with spades.
Many of the wrestlers of this promotion have fallen in my wake and those in this Silver Briefcase match will just be the next on the list. They think because they have earned the spot that they have. No, punk you need to be at the top of your game to HOLD onto it. Look at Blair, look at Jesse Styles, look at Hunter; hell look at Al Envy, look how far they have fallen in the eyes of the people. They were the top dogs in this promotion when it was in its golden years. Look at them now. Go on look.
I don’t need the attention that that life style brings. I will be bringing a suitable apocalypse to this promotion before I finally succumb to the illness that burns within me. I will destroy the house that Jesse Styles has built and I will lie in my grave which a final chuckle in my belly and a dead smile upon my lips.
I now know that I have done everything in my power that I can do in this company and that the next journey I take will be elsewhere. This tumour has given me back something that I thought I had lost.
Emily.
Yes, she is back in my life even after what she had done to me. I love her in my weird way and still need her. The weird mind of mine plays with me.
This should have been a happy week for me. I should have been going into this pay per view on top of the company but no I had been denied my destiny. I, Nocturnal would not let myself be denied of what was supposed to be mine. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t let it be.
It wasn’t just another day at the office last week on Ignite. I wasn’t 100% hell I probably wasn’t even 20% healthy but I still put in a better match than probably most of the locker room could.
Confusion crossed my mind when I saw that other people out there. Who had the audacity to mess with me? Who had the balls to try and mess with the Sadistic Bastard? People had tried that in the past but look for them now. What can’t remember any of them? That’s because we have written them out of time. No history books will know there name.
This week I face off against a group of enhancement talent this week on the first pay per view back. Jesse thinks that because he can throw his weight around……literally that people will take notice of him by booking this match. I should have known that he would when I took off my mask. When the news came to me that the old relic had sold his soul to bring back his creation I had to point out how wrong that was and to chop off his penis with a blunt fish knife and insert the limp scrotum up his own ass.
Relic’s like XXX, Lucas McCann and Valora have all seen the light and run for the hills but the fuckers in this match didn’t get the memo and finally outlived their relevance in this promotion. They are trying to claw onto a career like some old time wrestler who has plainly flew past his sell by date and doesn’t want to be put out on the pasture so will need to be taken to the abattoir and be shot in the back of the head with a bolt-gun.
Did I mean to think of Hunter?
I hate that red neck. He should be sent back to where he came from. You can take the red neck out of the South but you can’t take the South out of the red neck. Hunter. What is his problem? Is he three jars short of a moonshine run? Shouldn’t he be chasing around in the General Lee? I can see that actually; except his two feet will be sticking out the window as when he tries to slide in through the window his fat body will be wedged. This red neck needed to be taken down a peg or two. He should be taken back to his little shack in the wood and sit there with his dog he had trained to chase down the racoons whilst playing duelling banjos. But turning to an organised religion? What the fuck?
Wait he’s not from the South? Then why does he act like he does.
Everyone carries their own demons. We’re not talking about scaly, pitchfork tailed and goat feet demons; Demons of things that they have done in the past and things that they should have done; Sins so powerful or hurtful that way a person down so much that they cannot carry on without breaking others in their wake.
My demons were established a long time ago when my sister was born. My sister was not born without trouble. She had nearly killed our mother in child birth and that had driven our father to drink or so we thought. Our father had always been a man that you did not want to get in the way of; especially when he had been drinking. On the fateful day when my father had overstepped the mark and had started to beat down on our mother that had been the catalyst for what would become known as the Koresh clan.
We had been a normal family that lived in a farmstead out on the outskirts of Abilene, Texas till then. But then the shit hit the proverbial fan. I lost lots of family that day and I remember it well now a days. Those were troubling days but I would not be the man I am today without that happening in my life.
It had brought out the Nocturnal personality which resides within this meat sack to this day but in those days it was around niggling away in the back of my head just waiting for that time to jump out and consume me.
It is in the darkest moments of the night, when the halls and corridors of hospitals have fallen quiet, they come out. Creeping from their dark holes and hiding places, they assail the old, infirm and mentally ill. While liver spotted hands are tangled in IV tubes and mad eyes roll like those of panicked cattle, bodies restrained by straps and masks, these victims are abused again and again, their very lives made forfeit. Worse still is when survivors babble their stories through tears and lips flecked with spittle, and their caretakers laugh at them until they fall silent. Sometimes, however, caretaker and dependant look into each other’s eyes and see that the same fear haunts them both; Nocturnal.
My conscience has held me back for way too long, held me back and played me but I have, had the last laugh; a Sadistic and twisted laugh. I was like its very own personal marionette. I have now cut those strings that held me aloft and I am free to let my monstrous plan unfold before your very eyes. I cut those strings and gone is the entity known as Alexander Koresh who was the control and the creature called Nocturnal is back in control of this monstrous meat suit of mine. I am my own monster now and this puppet can work without the strings of a conscience that have held me back for way too long. Can I change my path or is it truly set?
So with this pay per view just around the corner it is my chance to get revenge for something that was kind of a travesty in my career. No, not losing the NEW World Championship title belt to some punk all those years ago as I’d done that when I had destroyed Jesse’s dreams and aspirations last time I was here. I had rubbed salt into the wound when I had stabbed him through his heart when I didn’t choose him to stay. No, he believed it was the travesty which to be honest it was. I should have chosen him and destroyed his dreams.
He thinks that we all creations of the Devil if you think about it. In his eyes we, especially myself are really nothing but inanimate objects, formless creatures housing seduced angels inside our useless hides. Inside each of us was a captured spirit, a disgraced angel looking for a way back to Heaven.
How quaint of him if you think about it. In his terminology we are just crude imitations of life, soulless demons with no hope; Demons who revel in carnal, bloody and unnatural acts; of accidental judgements, casual slaughters; of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause. Fuck Jesse and his bunch of slack jawed morons that listen to his every word.
I have to make my match at Ascension the reason for people to tune in. No one else on the show mattered when it comes to Nocturnal. Nocturnal is all about the anarchy that he causes. With Johnny Stylez hovering on the periphery it seems as good as any time to start to build up Nocturnal within the ranks of these morons.
But have you looked at who is in the match with me? The only one that people will know from back in the day is Tommy Kain who I’ve had beef with but put the punk in his place back in the day; the rest are an unknown quantity; some of them I’ve watched on the internet but others are just non-entities who want to make a name for themselves off of my back.
It won’t happen on my watch. These punks will be shown that you don’t mess with the Sadistic Bastard. When I claim that briefcase I will have a decision to make; a decision that could alter my life for the better. X-Core or Trans-Atlantic Championship? The X-Core Championship has always been a bugbear of mine; I’ve never been able to get that belt as I
I had stayed in professional wrestling longer than any that had been around when I started; building the companies up to the pinnacle and making my name taking on everyone that was thrown at me to learn my craft. I wrestled all of the self-proclaimed legends of the time and destroyed them; then when they were extinguished for good I wrestled the generation that took the legends place and destroyed them too. Now that I am in that position I will do everything that is in my sadistic mind to hold onto my spot. People know me well enough to know what I am capable of. They know how sick and twisted I can be. I learnt a lot of that from all of those that have stood in my path.
So to be honest what is coming is your own fault for being in the wrong place and I would not blame you if you did not show up as there is no dishonour in that. I would be a little disappointed but that goes with the territory. I will make this an experience that the entrants in the Silver Briefcase match will never, ever forget. And that is a promise that I will keep. This will be the week that Nocturnal will get the respect that is due as its getting quite boring when they disrespect someone like me.
Why do I always do this to myself? I build stuff up in my head and then when it actually happens it is a total let down. You picture it, make sure you colour between the lines and then when you look back at the master piece it’s something else.
My body hurts more than it has ever done and that is saying a lot since I have had some amazingly brutal matches over the years with the likes of Johnny Stylez and Matt Slater which left me being not being able to move as well as I used too. Who can forget my surprise return at the New Edge Wrestling pay per view Kamikaze where I entered myself into the Ultimate X-Core match by taking my own sister out of the match? Now that was the match that put the Xtreme in X-Core. That was after my last self-inflicted retirement; might be time for another one if this doesn’t work out.
A lot of damage to those old bones of mine has been done; so much damage that we were heading to where it all began.
Back to where I was brought into this world.
No; not the asylum where I was systematically tortured by the doctors but where I was made.
It was a drastic thing to go back there. Back to the place that some said had made me a star. My family was infamous in Abilene and I know that before I went out into the wide world but that’s not why I came home. I need to rest myself before I get back into it seriously now that Nocturnal is running wild in New Edge Wrestling.
And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts. And I looked and behold a pale horse. And his name that sat on him was Death. And Hell followed with him.
Do you believe in karma Johnny? Do you? I believe that what you do, comes back to bite you in the ass one day! And this is your day bitch! Trying to worm your way out of my wrath? Now that would be interesting for you.
My hate for you burns in my soul Johnny, I let it consume me. I’ve let it cloud my judgement. The price I pay for that unchecked rage could be costly. But it will be worth it in the long run, for now Johnny, you will know my final judgement, you might not even want to get into my business ever again.
I will bring you misery and torment. Pain and suffering that is eternal. And I shall be the one that deals out the endless holocaust of misery for I am Nocturnal.
Take notes Johnny. Get your little pen and paper. Jot it down. This is not for you………Hey why don’t you just write down your last will and testament whilst you are at it fucker.
Do you want any of this? Do you really want get under my skin? Do you? Everyone knows what I am capable of, that was why they tried to soften me up over the years but you forget something.
Pain is good.
Is that wrong?
Is it really?
Pray for your soul.
For I am the Bringer of Death, Killer of Worlds.
Of all those once born of woman, It is those who have shed the coil of morality in exchange for an eternity of Damnation who are the monsters. The man known simply as Nocturnal is an unloving soul doomed to live in the shadow and feast on blood. However, even among monsters, some inevitably stand out as distinctly horrific.
Our very presence is a thing of unprecedented disgust, a vile reminder of just how inhuman I, Nocturnal can be. Yet paradoxically, even the rest of New Edge Wrestling’s pathetic roster, entranced by their own inability to comprehend such cruelties of life, find it difficult not to stare at these piteous mockeries of flesh and bone.
We, us freaks are renowned for our grotesquery; each singularly deformed to the extreme, and put to shame those dark icons that play in our very shadows.
But let’s not get ahead of myself. Where shall I start? Shall I start at how I have beaten everyone that this promotion has thrown at me or that I am in the main event of New Edge Wrestling? No, maybe I should start about how Johnny Stylez made the biggest mistake of his career?
Em……..
Let’s start there.
Come on, Johnny? Really? For real? You should just be happy with the spot you have and not get involved with the business of Nocturnal.
Wait…….I do feel sorry for you. I had originally thought that you were a kindred spirit of Nocturnal. When putting the cRu together and thinking that Nocturnal had a soul was worthy of bringing into the group. Much like Apathy, Aurora and even my sister Emily we seemed to be lost but then you had to do the unimaginable. Throwing Nocturnal out of the cRu much like you were throwing away one of your smokes wasn’t your best idea.
I digress. Johnny, come on honey. You may have been Johnny big bollocks in many people’s eyes but not mine.
NO FUCKING WAY!!!!!
It makes you a fucking loser in my eyes. I don’t care if you’ve earned your Buried Alive match with Jesse Styles but you’ve got no chance in hell buddy.
Come on, I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to earn your spot within company, by trying to take out the owner, namely Jesse Styles. Move along. Keep on moving. You ain’t going to climb this tree.
This isn’t your time Johnny. I will not let you get in my way.
This is going to be an interesting week; an interesting match at the pay per view. And once again Nocturnal will show all of you fuckers why when the blow off comes Nocturnal will be the one with his hand raised.
People say that the world is going to the dogs but when it comes to Nocturnal he was light years ahead of most of the mere mortals that inhabited his domain. That was definitely how he felt when he had heard of who he had to face at Ascension live on pay per view.
Green Bay
They had arrived, the Koresh family and had decided to explore this city of sin. This place was supposed to be visited in the daylight. The minarets and the false towers were meant to shine in the sun, to show the followers God’s reflected glory. But they are above the street lights and they are angled just wrong, so instead they are black spikes stabbing at Heaven. Even the bas-relief cherubs take on a sinister cast, their brows knitting and their lips twisting in the shadows from passing headlights. This place had faced more than its own sins.
Up ahead, towards the top of the stairs, a headless statue of Saint John stood with arms outstretched, facing the street. Someone other than the Koresh family had had the audacity of vandalising this Church. How quaint.
The Church was almost completely dark except for the pulpit; no candles lit the way. In the faint light that spilled from the high windows, rows of pews gathering dust against the walls. The centre of the Church had been cleared and the pulpit covered with a funerary shroud. Candelabras stood in all the corners, silhouettes against the greater darkness.
People of all age, races and creeds were sat under the pulpit, looking up at the pulpit where a shape stands covered in shadows. He leaned forward out of the shadows and Father Diego was stood smiling before it went all serious, all fire and brimstone, sweat prickling on his brow.
“And I heard a great voice,” he hissed, “out of the temple, saying to the Seven Angels go your ways, and pour out the vials of the wrath of God upon the earth!”
He looked around at those gathered before him.
“And the first went,” Father Diego said. “And poured out his vial upon the earth; and there fell a noisome and grievous sore upon the men which had the mark of the beast; and upon them which worshipped his image!”
Father Diego wiped his brow, as if he’d been overcome and then released from some powerful trance.
“Revelations!” he yelled. “Revelations Sixteen, One and Two! The prophet foresees the wrath of God, claiming to death and damnation all them miserable sinners and heathens he’s marked! Marked on the inside, brothers and sisters!”
He took a deep breath and then smiled. He looked down upon his flock as a commotion happened at the doorway. In walked Nocturnal and some of his family members. They are pushing through the Father’s flock and stopped at the bottom of the altar.
“This is a place of worship my son,” Father Diego said. “We do not want any trouble.”
“Trouble?” Nocturnal smirked. “Trouble? Do we look like trouble? Are we that obvious? Do we bring those kinds of vibes to your sheep?”
Emily leaned over and sniffed Nocturnal before she nodded.
Father Diego walked down a small flight of steps to be amongst them. He had finished his sermon to his flock and maybe he could convert these obvious sinners.
He didn’t look like a stereotypical preacher. No, he was not dressed in a suit and dogs collar. He looked more like some bum off the street in his plaid shirt and jeans. A bandana was tied around his neck. A silver cross dangled on a chain around his neck. His hair hangs raggedly down whilst his beard is overgrown.
“Emily,” Nocturnal said as he caressed his head. “So this is what it’s like to be in one of their Churches? Bit like when they invited us to do a show at Comic-Con Sis?”
Emily shrugged. “Comic-Con was fun, these stuffy punks think they are better than us baby. I think we should cause a little bit of trouble here before we have to get serious with that those ass clowns at New Edge Wrestling!”
“Language lady,” Father Diego said. “This is a house of God.”
“Oh you are funny Priest. You want to know a secret,” Nocturnal said. “Your Overlords at the Vatican lied to you,” he turned to Emily. ”Doesn’t he look shocked when he preaches his little sermon to these sheep that are gathered for the slaughter? It’s like how that old timer Father Nathan would have wanted it. From what I gather he was used to getting his own way here in New Edge Wrestling but someone like Nocturnal doesn’t play well with others. They preach that Nocturnal is an endangered species. I believe that the preacher believes what he preaches. Some would say that I pity him; Far from it.”
“Yes?” she asked.
Nocturnal smiled as he sat down amongst the sheep. He caressed his head as he spoke. His family members intermingled with those of the sheep that had stayed in the Church. “With people hanging on the owners every word it is quite painful to be honest. Infatuation is a bitch. Can’t you see what is going on in the promotion at the moment with some of these old timers returning to piss all over his dreams?”
Cain nodded as he listened to his cousin talk. He, like the rest of the family was enthralled at every word said by Nocturnal. Emily skipped passed him and caressed the beard her brother had.
“So what does your boss think Father? They think that we are what is bad for this world,” Nocturnal said. “The Church it is full of deviant behaviours that make me happy to be a human being. No greater place of deviant behaviour is on display than New Edge Wrestling. Deviants like Johnny Stylez and his drug dealer may think that they are on top of this promotion but that is just another illusion. How the downfall of my old adversary vies with cynical self-interest will be his end. With Shane Sparx holding up the coat tails of New Edge Wrestling’s X-Core Division which will go extinct soon anyway unless I can stop it. They will all bring their full resources to full force trying to destroy the seediness of someone like Nocturnal. Destroy him? Kill him? Another sin they portray. That is why I will save New Edge Wrestling…..”
“Save?” Emily asked. “Why would you choose to save it? They have chosen their path to be on Alex. They should just burn like the rest of wrestling promotions do when the Koresh Family brings them all down; Those that in authority will never stand up to Nocturnal.”
“Authorities?” Nocturnal asked. “They are corrupt as the rest of that damn company Emily. That is why I have brought us all together. We will bring this Company to its knees. It needs some kind of guidance; When it has deviant’s like Shane Sparx, Johnny Stylez and Roger Wright as its upper echelon of talent and their faces are seen around the world every day in on form of media or another. They have talent in their locker room that is willing to spread their legs just to get ahead in this promotion. Those harlots know that by cheapening themselves is a sin. They know that whoring themselves out will not get them ahead in this promotion. It will just get them on step closer to Hell.”
He looked at the hooded monster and smiled.
“Look at our cousin here,” he said. “All of his life he was treated like a freak. Because of how he was born he was treated sub-human. He is afflicted with some form of regressive atavism, meaning he has inherited some of the traits of ancestral species of the human race. Over time the primal reptilian part of his brain gains more control of his psyche. He looks like a monster but we will use that against our opponents. I need my right hand monster so he will play that role for now.”
“The media have compared you to David Koresh or Jim Jones, Nocturnal?” Emily said. “That is pretty cool for our little family.”
Nocturnal laughed as he caressed the scars on his face. “David Koresh? Why would they compare me to him? He may have the same surname as I but that’s how close we get. He was one of those charlatan leaders of a cult of personalities. Branch Davidian was a pathetic excuse for God’s soldiers. I am not David Koresh and I would not want to be him. You see my people; I am not one of these pathetic excuses of a human being who uses my thoughts of a fake God to further my own agenda. I am not a soldier of this fake God. And I aim to bring America one step at a time closer to the brink of the end of days. Starting here in New Edge Wrestling I will bring my message to the masses.”
“And Jim Jones?” Cain asked.
Nocturnal turned to Cain that had asked that with a look of disgust upon his face. “Jim Jones? They always bring him up if someone of cult manages to convert sinners to followers and gathers them around him. When I was growing up in Abilene I remember reading about him and his followers when they were in Guyana. They escaped the corruption and decadence of 1970’s America and built themselves a new life in the middle of the jungle. If they had not let the sinners into their midst they wouldn’t have gone down the path they did and commit the unspeakable. By the end of that day 909 souls were extinguished from this world including 303 innocent children. He was a coward, and did not have any real faith and took they easy way out. I will not fall to that sin here in Riot Star Wrestling as I have the Church of fucking Nocturnal.”
“You’ve fought prophets of God here before,” said Emily. “I was quite close to one. Father Nathan, they are not to be laughed at. They will not be beaten as easily as you think. They have faith which will be a problem. Don’t you think so? Faith in a promotion is fine but faith in Jesse Styles is fake.”
“What? They are charlatans plain and simple. They don’t last around here as they think they can survive here by hiding behind their faith. Where did that faith help Reya Serra? When did God protect her from the power of she who shall not be named? No, she had her faith tested when God’s wrath struck her down. She is as much of an avatar of God as the blaspheming Hollywood film stars. They are constantly thanking God, crossing themselves and feigning prayers whilst they are counting the ill-gotten gains they have received from selling their souls to the Devil. Payback will be a bitch. Payback will be fun. We have so many of these Hollywood starlets and Rap Stars who prayer to their fake God every day and don’t even realise that they are doing it.”
“But why try to save this company if you think this way?” Emily asked. “All those in this Silver Briefcase match will be coming for you. You will save them from themselves but I still don’t see why.”
“Good question,” Nocturnal said. “I will save it AFTER I have destroyed it. Those that buy this pay per view will not be disappointed. They are sat at home in their shoddy houses on their couches tucking into their burger kings or some other restaurant of ill repute. What better way to teach to the masses that they are so wrong. What better way to separate the souls already too damned to be saved. This week when I put that group in the match out of their misery here in Green Bay the world will see. They will see that I am more than just some monster who spews out words of gibberish. No, I will show them the truth.”
The Priest looked at Nocturnal. “You can still be saved my son. Nothing is too late.”
Nocturnal took off his duster which revealed a t-shirt underneath it. “Nocturnal carries blood of wrestling royalty in his veins but he will still burn in Hell,” said Father Diego. “For I will bring him to his knees. He will beg me for my forgiveness. My hope is that with his cognitive coupled with his fear of my creation will bring him to see our ways. The window of opportunity to show my brethren the wisdom of my plan is closing. Soon our internecine battles will commence and I will bring down New Edge Wrestling, sinner by sinner.”
He stood up and nodded at Emily. Nocturnal walked over to a crucifix.
“These two planks of wood,” he turned and looked at Father Diego. “It confounds me; suffuses me with some kind of mortal dread. But fear is in the mind Priest.”
He moved closer to the cross, and despite his native horror of it, put out his hand and gripped it tight. Smoke rose from his hand, burning his flesh. He held on with steely determination, his face did not betray the obvious and searing pain.
“Like pain…….” he smiled. “It can be controlled.”
Finally he let go, and took a step back and turned and looked directly at Father Diego.
“If I can face my fear,” Nocturnal said. “Then it cannot master me.”
Father Diego had a shocked look upon his face. He took the crucifix from around his neck, kissed it and held it towards Nocturnal. “Unclean spirit, I cast thee out!”
“What is this?” Nocturnal said. “Like I said Priest, your trinkets cause me pain, but little more than that.”
Father Diego took one step closer to Nocturnal.
“In the name of Christ,” he said. “I command you……..”
Nocturnal interrupted him. “Sticks and stones may break my bones……but names will never hurt me.”
“In the…….” Father Diego paused. “…..name of Christ…………………”
Nocturnal interrupted once again. “Not even that one. Is he like Lord Voldemort?”
“Lord of all creation,” Father Diego stated. “Cast out this cruel Demon. Let my cry come unto thee. Now unclean spirit……I cast you out. Along with every Satanic power of the enemy; Every spectre of Hell, every savage companion. It is he who commands you; He who flung you down from the heights of Heaven. By the Judge of the living and the dead, by your creator, I command you………DEPART!!!”
Nocturnal looked around. “No nothing? Not even a little burning sensation around my penis. Bit disappointing really Priest. Someone bag this punk and bring the hot nun too.”
Cain, Emily and Caleb slowly walked towards them.
“Your Church judges us as depraved ingrates,” he said. “You are just about evangelising or enthusing. Do you not speak in tongues or start convulsing in communion with angels or dribbling and shrieking in a corner like some television evangelists. We are better than that.”
The associates of his seemed to be eating up every word that Nocturnal was saying.
“………this time I will not let anyone get in my way,” he said. “I have a briefcase match at the pay per view. It is a cluster fuck of a match. Now we need to go somewhere a little bit private.”
They dragged them out.
Outside the Church an old lady walked. With the sound of burglar alarms echoing down the streets behind her, an old bag lady wheeled a shopping cart down her block. The cart, with only three wheels fully working, housed the sum of her life; four dozen crushed cans, good for redemption at her neighbourhood market.
The woman clutched her well-worn handbag to her side. It was all she had left to remind her of another time, another life; A time when she had been considered a person. She looked at the Church before she continued on her way.
Now she was sinking in a pit of despair. She did all she could to keep from sinking. Elizabeth her name had been, once. Names didn’t enter her world anymore.
The old woman stiffened as the sound of screeching car brakes sliced through her memories. The car, filled with laughing drunken teenagers, slammed into her grocery cart, sending the cart, the cans and the old woman tumbling onto the hood and then finally the cold sidewalk.
The car sped off, the teenagers laughed at what they’d done.
Elizabeth surveyed the scene from the sidewalk. She was in pain, yes; but it was the kind of pain she was used to. She slowly got to her feet.
“Bastards…….” She muttered.
She glanced around helplessly, her treasured tin cans still twirling in the street. She made a furtive move to gather them. A blow from nowhere slammed into her stomach. The old woman doubled over, and a young thug in a “PACKERS” jersey wrenched the handbag from her side, breaking her shoulder in the process.
The thief, handbag tucked, American football style, under his left arm sprinted down a street, passing a row of laughing prostitutes, mini skirted girls, barely out of their teens, wearing more paint than a Picasso. The last prostitute extended a fishnet covered leg, sending the young thief tumbling.
Straight into a figure.
The thief slowly looked up, straight into the face of Nocturnal.
Nocturnal grabbed him by the throat and choked him out. “It’s not your day.”
Darkness fell.
A rusted old bucket was being filled with water from a filthy sink. Nocturnal’s hand turned off the water. Nocturnal walked through the house. The only sound we heard was the creaking of the rusty handle and Nocturnal’s footsteps on the wood floor.
He turned a corner and the young thug, the priest and a Nun are sat there. All three are tied to separate chairs. The young thug was awake; his eyes darted from side to side. The other two are unconscious. Father Diego was still dressed in the clothes that he preached in whilst the Nun was still in full Nun regalia. Emily Koresh was stood in the corner observing. Other members of the Koresh family observed from the back.
Nocturnal lifted the bucket and threw it on all three, The Preacher jumped awake, whilst the Nun lifted her head semi-conscious.
“Wake up my little friends,” Emily squealed. “My brother here sees you as nothing but pawns in his journey to the after world.”
“Fuck you bitch,” the thug said. “Get this off of me now!! Do you not know who I am you cunt?”
Emily slapped the thug across the face.
“Shut up, and don’t disrespect me boy,” she said. “As I am your only saviour. You think he controls me, but it is I that control the monster. I hold him back now from ripping you to bits, you little fucker. Do you want him to rip off your penis and insert it in the ass of the Priest? Hell, the Priest may like that sort of thing.”
Nocturnal walked up and stood beside his sister. He had a smirk on his face.
“You see,” she said. “Nocturnal here is becoming more than he ever was, with my help the monster will be unleash. Now that I have stopped taking my medication I see ever so clearly boys. I see why they drugged me in the first place, my babies. For I am pure evil and they……..even my family wanted to control me. But you will find this out first hand.”
“But what have we got to do with this my daughter?” Father Diego said. “Sister Jessica is innocent in your games. Please release her. We will forget all about your demonic brother.”
Emily laughed, “Innocent? Really? I smell the guilt on you my little friend. It washes off of you like the sins of my past. You ask me what she has got to do with this. It is easy. Nocturnal is a monster. He needs his victims. And you my friends are them. You cannot blame him really. He is haunted by some followers of your fake religion and he likes to torment them. He has had to put up with all of your pity for all of his life.”
All three started shouting and shaking.
“You see my three little victims,” she said. “This week live on pay per view my monster will take some asshole in the match who thinks he can clean his tainted soul by thinking that he is Mister America and nail him to a cross and whip him until his skin is raw and then walk off with the shot at either the X-Core or Trans-Atlantic Championship. My money is on Kevin Drake. That’s where you guys come into play.”
She turned and pointed at the corner where there was a pile of wood, a hammer and some barbwire.
“Oh my god!!!” the thug screamed. “You’re fucking crazy bitch! What do I have to do with this? I am the innocent one.”
Emily pulled up a chair and sat opposite them. On a small table next to her was a tool box and a brown leather folder. She opened the folder and removed three photos. She positioned each of the photos on the laps of each of the victims.
She turned to Nocturnal and nodded.
Nocturnal opened the tool box and removed a hammer and a nail. He walked over to thug, placed the photo on his hand and then hammered the nail through the photo, through his hand and into the arm of the chair.
The thug screamed loudly. He twisted and stabbed the thug with it in the hand; He pulled back screaming. Nocturnal pulled out the nail. It had gone all the way through. Nocturnal lifted the hand and looked through the hole at the Priest.
“This is going to get bloody…………” Emily said. “Nice.”
Nocturnal nodded at his cousins. Caleb and Cain grabbed hold of the Priest by the arms. Nocturnal grabbed hold of the barbwire before he returned.
“Father Diego,” he said. “I am sorry. I am really sorry. It is not your fault really. It is just I need to get this done correctly. I need to punish Johnny for what he has done.”
Cain laid the cross down as the others dragged the Priest kicking and screaming towards it. They laid him down upon the cross and Cain put his knee across the Priest’s neck pinning him there.
“Let this be proof that I am a man of my word,” Nocturnal said as he began to wrap the barbwire around the Priests head. Blood started to pour from the wounds in his head as it ripped into the flesh. “How funny Priest, Johnny will look good with a crimson mask.”
Cain nailed a spike into the Priest’s left hand at the same time Caleb did into the right hand. The Priest was losing consciousness. They raised the cross up and fixed it into the concrete leaving him dangling.
“Now that wasn’t too bad was it Father?” Nocturnal said. “Now what about the Nun?”
Emily held up a dildo wrapped in barbwire and smirked.
So it had come down to this for our next show. That punk ass Johnny Stylez has ducked facing me himself to face me in the ring himself. He thinks that he has all the cards and that he controls my destiny. He cannot control Nocturnal. I have showed everyone over the years that I have been a part of all wrestling promotions that I have been a part of that I am a loose cannon. What has he shown the world? Cowardice and scheming amongst other skills with this drug habit of his will not help him. He deserves what is coming to him when I eventually get hold of him. And he will take it like the bitch he is.
Johnny thinks that he has all of the answers. But he don’t know the goddamn questions. No, I do. He thinks that because he can hide behind his match at the pay per view but that won’t save him. How naïve can he think I am?
I am supposed to be catching a plane from Houston, Texas across to Green Bay otherwise I would be in breach of my contract but for some reason I just can’t bring myself to even remotely care because the coward is ducking me. I have bled for this sport of mine in nearly every country over the years more than most that have been here through its short history.
Now that ass clown Jesse Styles has signed me in to some glorified battle royale at the pay per view with the chance to earn a sport at either the Trans-Atlantic Championship or the X-Core Championship. Jesse? I know it is not your fault as you have to answer to your board of directors but you know its money if me and Johnny faced each other. When I was in your position before you I could not do anything to stop someone trying to control me but I rebelled against him and escaped his grasp which is why I am different from that Nocturnal you remember but I can make you see sense, for I am not one that sits down peacefully to tyranny.
Johnny, Johnny... come out, come out, wherever you are. I understand you; more than you can fucking possibly comprehend. I got your blueprint stamped right here in my head, and I know what you are. You are nothing but pawns on a chessboard for the powers behind the throne. You move forward, never backwards. You spend all of your useless days clawing with your aching hands forward just to that beautiful moment, the moment where you sacrifice yourself in the name of your King. Who is your King? Here's a little help for you as I know something that you don't; your moment is closer than you think.
My life had never been straight forward. When I was but a young man I had got put upon the path that was laid out before me; where people had thought of me as being the voice of those that were unable to get themselves heard. I didn’t want that job and I didn’t revel in it. I actually rebelled against it as why should I be a voice for the faceless sheep of this realm. I couldn’t do that. I wasn’t to be trusted. I am Nocturnal for fuck sakes. I am not some Goth wannabie who dresses up like an extra of True Blood or Twilight to get attention.
That’s nothing new to me. People have to be goddamn original in this world of ours these days to get on with this industry but it’s hard to get your foot in the door especially with a promotion like New Edge Wrestling but Nocturnal does it with spades.
Many of the wrestlers of this promotion have fallen in my wake and those in this Silver Briefcase match will just be the next on the list. They think because they have earned the spot that they have. No, punk you need to be at the top of your game to HOLD onto it. Look at Blair, look at Jesse Styles, look at Hunter; hell look at Al Envy, look how far they have fallen in the eyes of the people. They were the top dogs in this promotion when it was in its golden years. Look at them now. Go on look.
I don’t need the attention that that life style brings. I will be bringing a suitable apocalypse to this promotion before I finally succumb to the illness that burns within me. I will destroy the house that Jesse Styles has built and I will lie in my grave which a final chuckle in my belly and a dead smile upon my lips.
I now know that I have done everything in my power that I can do in this company and that the next journey I take will be elsewhere. This tumour has given me back something that I thought I had lost.
Emily.
Yes, she is back in my life even after what she had done to me. I love her in my weird way and still need her. The weird mind of mine plays with me.
This should have been a happy week for me. I should have been going into this pay per view on top of the company but no I had been denied my destiny. I, Nocturnal would not let myself be denied of what was supposed to be mine. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t let it be.
It wasn’t just another day at the office last week on Ignite. I wasn’t 100% hell I probably wasn’t even 20% healthy but I still put in a better match than probably most of the locker room could.
Confusion crossed my mind when I saw that other people out there. Who had the audacity to mess with me? Who had the balls to try and mess with the Sadistic Bastard? People had tried that in the past but look for them now. What can’t remember any of them? That’s because we have written them out of time. No history books will know there name.
This week I face off against a group of enhancement talent this week on the first pay per view back. Jesse thinks that because he can throw his weight around……literally that people will take notice of him by booking this match. I should have known that he would when I took off my mask. When the news came to me that the old relic had sold his soul to bring back his creation I had to point out how wrong that was and to chop off his penis with a blunt fish knife and insert the limp scrotum up his own ass.
Relic’s like XXX, Lucas McCann and Valora have all seen the light and run for the hills but the fuckers in this match didn’t get the memo and finally outlived their relevance in this promotion. They are trying to claw onto a career like some old time wrestler who has plainly flew past his sell by date and doesn’t want to be put out on the pasture so will need to be taken to the abattoir and be shot in the back of the head with a bolt-gun.
Did I mean to think of Hunter?
I hate that red neck. He should be sent back to where he came from. You can take the red neck out of the South but you can’t take the South out of the red neck. Hunter. What is his problem? Is he three jars short of a moonshine run? Shouldn’t he be chasing around in the General Lee? I can see that actually; except his two feet will be sticking out the window as when he tries to slide in through the window his fat body will be wedged. This red neck needed to be taken down a peg or two. He should be taken back to his little shack in the wood and sit there with his dog he had trained to chase down the racoons whilst playing duelling banjos. But turning to an organised religion? What the fuck?
Wait he’s not from the South? Then why does he act like he does.
Everyone carries their own demons. We’re not talking about scaly, pitchfork tailed and goat feet demons; Demons of things that they have done in the past and things that they should have done; Sins so powerful or hurtful that way a person down so much that they cannot carry on without breaking others in their wake.
My demons were established a long time ago when my sister was born. My sister was not born without trouble. She had nearly killed our mother in child birth and that had driven our father to drink or so we thought. Our father had always been a man that you did not want to get in the way of; especially when he had been drinking. On the fateful day when my father had overstepped the mark and had started to beat down on our mother that had been the catalyst for what would become known as the Koresh clan.
We had been a normal family that lived in a farmstead out on the outskirts of Abilene, Texas till then. But then the shit hit the proverbial fan. I lost lots of family that day and I remember it well now a days. Those were troubling days but I would not be the man I am today without that happening in my life.
It had brought out the Nocturnal personality which resides within this meat sack to this day but in those days it was around niggling away in the back of my head just waiting for that time to jump out and consume me.
It is in the darkest moments of the night, when the halls and corridors of hospitals have fallen quiet, they come out. Creeping from their dark holes and hiding places, they assail the old, infirm and mentally ill. While liver spotted hands are tangled in IV tubes and mad eyes roll like those of panicked cattle, bodies restrained by straps and masks, these victims are abused again and again, their very lives made forfeit. Worse still is when survivors babble their stories through tears and lips flecked with spittle, and their caretakers laugh at them until they fall silent. Sometimes, however, caretaker and dependant look into each other’s eyes and see that the same fear haunts them both; Nocturnal.
My conscience has held me back for way too long, held me back and played me but I have, had the last laugh; a Sadistic and twisted laugh. I was like its very own personal marionette. I have now cut those strings that held me aloft and I am free to let my monstrous plan unfold before your very eyes. I cut those strings and gone is the entity known as Alexander Koresh who was the control and the creature called Nocturnal is back in control of this monstrous meat suit of mine. I am my own monster now and this puppet can work without the strings of a conscience that have held me back for way too long. Can I change my path or is it truly set?
So with this pay per view just around the corner it is my chance to get revenge for something that was kind of a travesty in my career. No, not losing the NEW World Championship title belt to some punk all those years ago as I’d done that when I had destroyed Jesse’s dreams and aspirations last time I was here. I had rubbed salt into the wound when I had stabbed him through his heart when I didn’t choose him to stay. No, he believed it was the travesty which to be honest it was. I should have chosen him and destroyed his dreams.
He thinks that we all creations of the Devil if you think about it. In his eyes we, especially myself are really nothing but inanimate objects, formless creatures housing seduced angels inside our useless hides. Inside each of us was a captured spirit, a disgraced angel looking for a way back to Heaven.
How quaint of him if you think about it. In his terminology we are just crude imitations of life, soulless demons with no hope; Demons who revel in carnal, bloody and unnatural acts; of accidental judgements, casual slaughters; of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause. Fuck Jesse and his bunch of slack jawed morons that listen to his every word.
I have to make my match at Ascension the reason for people to tune in. No one else on the show mattered when it comes to Nocturnal. Nocturnal is all about the anarchy that he causes. With Johnny Stylez hovering on the periphery it seems as good as any time to start to build up Nocturnal within the ranks of these morons.
But have you looked at who is in the match with me? The only one that people will know from back in the day is Tommy Kain who I’ve had beef with but put the punk in his place back in the day; the rest are an unknown quantity; some of them I’ve watched on the internet but others are just non-entities who want to make a name for themselves off of my back.
It won’t happen on my watch. These punks will be shown that you don’t mess with the Sadistic Bastard. When I claim that briefcase I will have a decision to make; a decision that could alter my life for the better. X-Core or Trans-Atlantic Championship? The X-Core Championship has always been a bugbear of mine; I’ve never been able to get that belt as I
I had stayed in professional wrestling longer than any that had been around when I started; building the companies up to the pinnacle and making my name taking on everyone that was thrown at me to learn my craft. I wrestled all of the self-proclaimed legends of the time and destroyed them; then when they were extinguished for good I wrestled the generation that took the legends place and destroyed them too. Now that I am in that position I will do everything that is in my sadistic mind to hold onto my spot. People know me well enough to know what I am capable of. They know how sick and twisted I can be. I learnt a lot of that from all of those that have stood in my path.
So to be honest what is coming is your own fault for being in the wrong place and I would not blame you if you did not show up as there is no dishonour in that. I would be a little disappointed but that goes with the territory. I will make this an experience that the entrants in the Silver Briefcase match will never, ever forget. And that is a promise that I will keep. This will be the week that Nocturnal will get the respect that is due as its getting quite boring when they disrespect someone like me.
Why do I always do this to myself? I build stuff up in my head and then when it actually happens it is a total let down. You picture it, make sure you colour between the lines and then when you look back at the master piece it’s something else.
My body hurts more than it has ever done and that is saying a lot since I have had some amazingly brutal matches over the years with the likes of Johnny Stylez and Matt Slater which left me being not being able to move as well as I used too. Who can forget my surprise return at the New Edge Wrestling pay per view Kamikaze where I entered myself into the Ultimate X-Core match by taking my own sister out of the match? Now that was the match that put the Xtreme in X-Core. That was after my last self-inflicted retirement; might be time for another one if this doesn’t work out.
A lot of damage to those old bones of mine has been done; so much damage that we were heading to where it all began.
Back to where I was brought into this world.
No; not the asylum where I was systematically tortured by the doctors but where I was made.
It was a drastic thing to go back there. Back to the place that some said had made me a star. My family was infamous in Abilene and I know that before I went out into the wide world but that’s not why I came home. I need to rest myself before I get back into it seriously now that Nocturnal is running wild in New Edge Wrestling.
And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts. And I looked and behold a pale horse. And his name that sat on him was Death. And Hell followed with him.
Do you believe in karma Johnny? Do you? I believe that what you do, comes back to bite you in the ass one day! And this is your day bitch! Trying to worm your way out of my wrath? Now that would be interesting for you.
My hate for you burns in my soul Johnny, I let it consume me. I’ve let it cloud my judgement. The price I pay for that unchecked rage could be costly. But it will be worth it in the long run, for now Johnny, you will know my final judgement, you might not even want to get into my business ever again.
I will bring you misery and torment. Pain and suffering that is eternal. And I shall be the one that deals out the endless holocaust of misery for I am Nocturnal.
Take notes Johnny. Get your little pen and paper. Jot it down. This is not for you………Hey why don’t you just write down your last will and testament whilst you are at it fucker.
Do you want any of this? Do you really want get under my skin? Do you? Everyone knows what I am capable of, that was why they tried to soften me up over the years but you forget something.
Pain is good.
Is that wrong?
Is it really?
Pray for your soul.
For I am the Bringer of Death, Killer of Worlds.
Of all those once born of woman, It is those who have shed the coil of morality in exchange for an eternity of Damnation who are the monsters. The man known simply as Nocturnal is an unloving soul doomed to live in the shadow and feast on blood. However, even among monsters, some inevitably stand out as distinctly horrific.
Our very presence is a thing of unprecedented disgust, a vile reminder of just how inhuman I, Nocturnal can be. Yet paradoxically, even the rest of New Edge Wrestling’s pathetic roster, entranced by their own inability to comprehend such cruelties of life, find it difficult not to stare at these piteous mockeries of flesh and bone.
We, us freaks are renowned for our grotesquery; each singularly deformed to the extreme, and put to shame those dark icons that play in our very shadows.
But let’s not get ahead of myself. Where shall I start? Shall I start at how I have beaten everyone that this promotion has thrown at me or that I am in the main event of New Edge Wrestling? No, maybe I should start about how Johnny Stylez made the biggest mistake of his career?
Em……..
Let’s start there.
Come on, Johnny? Really? For real? You should just be happy with the spot you have and not get involved with the business of Nocturnal.
Wait…….I do feel sorry for you. I had originally thought that you were a kindred spirit of Nocturnal. When putting the cRu together and thinking that Nocturnal had a soul was worthy of bringing into the group. Much like Apathy, Aurora and even my sister Emily we seemed to be lost but then you had to do the unimaginable. Throwing Nocturnal out of the cRu much like you were throwing away one of your smokes wasn’t your best idea.
I digress. Johnny, come on honey. You may have been Johnny big bollocks in many people’s eyes but not mine.
NO FUCKING WAY!!!!!
It makes you a fucking loser in my eyes. I don’t care if you’ve earned your Buried Alive match with Jesse Styles but you’ve got no chance in hell buddy.
Come on, I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to earn your spot within company, by trying to take out the owner, namely Jesse Styles. Move along. Keep on moving. You ain’t going to climb this tree.
This isn’t your time Johnny. I will not let you get in my way.
This is going to be an interesting week; an interesting match at the pay per view. And once again Nocturnal will show all of you fuckers why when the blow off comes Nocturnal will be the one with his hand raised.
People say that the world is going to the dogs but when it comes to Nocturnal he was light years ahead of most of the mere mortals that inhabited his domain. That was definitely how he felt when he had heard of who he had to face at Ascension live on pay per view.
Green Bay
They had arrived, the Koresh family and had decided to explore this city of sin. This place was supposed to be visited in the daylight. The minarets and the false towers were meant to shine in the sun, to show the followers God’s reflected glory. But they are above the street lights and they are angled just wrong, so instead they are black spikes stabbing at Heaven. Even the bas-relief cherubs take on a sinister cast, their brows knitting and their lips twisting in the shadows from passing headlights. This place had faced more than its own sins.
Up ahead, towards the top of the stairs, a headless statue of Saint John stood with arms outstretched, facing the street. Someone other than the Koresh family had had the audacity of vandalising this Church. How quaint.
The Church was almost completely dark except for the pulpit; no candles lit the way. In the faint light that spilled from the high windows, rows of pews gathering dust against the walls. The centre of the Church had been cleared and the pulpit covered with a funerary shroud. Candelabras stood in all the corners, silhouettes against the greater darkness.
People of all age, races and creeds were sat under the pulpit, looking up at the pulpit where a shape stands covered in shadows. He leaned forward out of the shadows and Father Diego was stood smiling before it went all serious, all fire and brimstone, sweat prickling on his brow.
“And I heard a great voice,” he hissed, “out of the temple, saying to the Seven Angels go your ways, and pour out the vials of the wrath of God upon the earth!”
He looked around at those gathered before him.
“And the first went,” Father Diego said. “And poured out his vial upon the earth; and there fell a noisome and grievous sore upon the men which had the mark of the beast; and upon them which worshipped his image!”
Father Diego wiped his brow, as if he’d been overcome and then released from some powerful trance.
“Revelations!” he yelled. “Revelations Sixteen, One and Two! The prophet foresees the wrath of God, claiming to death and damnation all them miserable sinners and heathens he’s marked! Marked on the inside, brothers and sisters!”
He took a deep breath and then smiled. He looked down upon his flock as a commotion happened at the doorway. In walked Nocturnal and some of his family members. They are pushing through the Father’s flock and stopped at the bottom of the altar.
“This is a place of worship my son,” Father Diego said. “We do not want any trouble.”
“Trouble?” Nocturnal smirked. “Trouble? Do we look like trouble? Are we that obvious? Do we bring those kinds of vibes to your sheep?”
Emily leaned over and sniffed Nocturnal before she nodded.
Father Diego walked down a small flight of steps to be amongst them. He had finished his sermon to his flock and maybe he could convert these obvious sinners.
He didn’t look like a stereotypical preacher. No, he was not dressed in a suit and dogs collar. He looked more like some bum off the street in his plaid shirt and jeans. A bandana was tied around his neck. A silver cross dangled on a chain around his neck. His hair hangs raggedly down whilst his beard is overgrown.
“Emily,” Nocturnal said as he caressed his head. “So this is what it’s like to be in one of their Churches? Bit like when they invited us to do a show at Comic-Con Sis?”
Emily shrugged. “Comic-Con was fun, these stuffy punks think they are better than us baby. I think we should cause a little bit of trouble here before we have to get serious with that those ass clowns at New Edge Wrestling!”
“Language lady,” Father Diego said. “This is a house of God.”
“Oh you are funny Priest. You want to know a secret,” Nocturnal said. “Your Overlords at the Vatican lied to you,” he turned to Emily. ”Doesn’t he look shocked when he preaches his little sermon to these sheep that are gathered for the slaughter? It’s like how that old timer Father Nathan would have wanted it. From what I gather he was used to getting his own way here in New Edge Wrestling but someone like Nocturnal doesn’t play well with others. They preach that Nocturnal is an endangered species. I believe that the preacher believes what he preaches. Some would say that I pity him; Far from it.”
“Yes?” she asked.
Nocturnal smiled as he sat down amongst the sheep. He caressed his head as he spoke. His family members intermingled with those of the sheep that had stayed in the Church. “With people hanging on the owners every word it is quite painful to be honest. Infatuation is a bitch. Can’t you see what is going on in the promotion at the moment with some of these old timers returning to piss all over his dreams?”
Cain nodded as he listened to his cousin talk. He, like the rest of the family was enthralled at every word said by Nocturnal. Emily skipped passed him and caressed the beard her brother had.
“So what does your boss think Father? They think that we are what is bad for this world,” Nocturnal said. “The Church it is full of deviant behaviours that make me happy to be a human being. No greater place of deviant behaviour is on display than New Edge Wrestling. Deviants like Johnny Stylez and his drug dealer may think that they are on top of this promotion but that is just another illusion. How the downfall of my old adversary vies with cynical self-interest will be his end. With Shane Sparx holding up the coat tails of New Edge Wrestling’s X-Core Division which will go extinct soon anyway unless I can stop it. They will all bring their full resources to full force trying to destroy the seediness of someone like Nocturnal. Destroy him? Kill him? Another sin they portray. That is why I will save New Edge Wrestling…..”
“Save?” Emily asked. “Why would you choose to save it? They have chosen their path to be on Alex. They should just burn like the rest of wrestling promotions do when the Koresh Family brings them all down; Those that in authority will never stand up to Nocturnal.”
“Authorities?” Nocturnal asked. “They are corrupt as the rest of that damn company Emily. That is why I have brought us all together. We will bring this Company to its knees. It needs some kind of guidance; When it has deviant’s like Shane Sparx, Johnny Stylez and Roger Wright as its upper echelon of talent and their faces are seen around the world every day in on form of media or another. They have talent in their locker room that is willing to spread their legs just to get ahead in this promotion. Those harlots know that by cheapening themselves is a sin. They know that whoring themselves out will not get them ahead in this promotion. It will just get them on step closer to Hell.”
He looked at the hooded monster and smiled.
“Look at our cousin here,” he said. “All of his life he was treated like a freak. Because of how he was born he was treated sub-human. He is afflicted with some form of regressive atavism, meaning he has inherited some of the traits of ancestral species of the human race. Over time the primal reptilian part of his brain gains more control of his psyche. He looks like a monster but we will use that against our opponents. I need my right hand monster so he will play that role for now.”
“The media have compared you to David Koresh or Jim Jones, Nocturnal?” Emily said. “That is pretty cool for our little family.”
Nocturnal laughed as he caressed the scars on his face. “David Koresh? Why would they compare me to him? He may have the same surname as I but that’s how close we get. He was one of those charlatan leaders of a cult of personalities. Branch Davidian was a pathetic excuse for God’s soldiers. I am not David Koresh and I would not want to be him. You see my people; I am not one of these pathetic excuses of a human being who uses my thoughts of a fake God to further my own agenda. I am not a soldier of this fake God. And I aim to bring America one step at a time closer to the brink of the end of days. Starting here in New Edge Wrestling I will bring my message to the masses.”
“And Jim Jones?” Cain asked.
Nocturnal turned to Cain that had asked that with a look of disgust upon his face. “Jim Jones? They always bring him up if someone of cult manages to convert sinners to followers and gathers them around him. When I was growing up in Abilene I remember reading about him and his followers when they were in Guyana. They escaped the corruption and decadence of 1970’s America and built themselves a new life in the middle of the jungle. If they had not let the sinners into their midst they wouldn’t have gone down the path they did and commit the unspeakable. By the end of that day 909 souls were extinguished from this world including 303 innocent children. He was a coward, and did not have any real faith and took they easy way out. I will not fall to that sin here in Riot Star Wrestling as I have the Church of fucking Nocturnal.”
“You’ve fought prophets of God here before,” said Emily. “I was quite close to one. Father Nathan, they are not to be laughed at. They will not be beaten as easily as you think. They have faith which will be a problem. Don’t you think so? Faith in a promotion is fine but faith in Jesse Styles is fake.”
“What? They are charlatans plain and simple. They don’t last around here as they think they can survive here by hiding behind their faith. Where did that faith help Reya Serra? When did God protect her from the power of she who shall not be named? No, she had her faith tested when God’s wrath struck her down. She is as much of an avatar of God as the blaspheming Hollywood film stars. They are constantly thanking God, crossing themselves and feigning prayers whilst they are counting the ill-gotten gains they have received from selling their souls to the Devil. Payback will be a bitch. Payback will be fun. We have so many of these Hollywood starlets and Rap Stars who prayer to their fake God every day and don’t even realise that they are doing it.”
“But why try to save this company if you think this way?” Emily asked. “All those in this Silver Briefcase match will be coming for you. You will save them from themselves but I still don’t see why.”
“Good question,” Nocturnal said. “I will save it AFTER I have destroyed it. Those that buy this pay per view will not be disappointed. They are sat at home in their shoddy houses on their couches tucking into their burger kings or some other restaurant of ill repute. What better way to teach to the masses that they are so wrong. What better way to separate the souls already too damned to be saved. This week when I put that group in the match out of their misery here in Green Bay the world will see. They will see that I am more than just some monster who spews out words of gibberish. No, I will show them the truth.”
The Priest looked at Nocturnal. “You can still be saved my son. Nothing is too late.”
Nocturnal took off his duster which revealed a t-shirt underneath it. “Nocturnal carries blood of wrestling royalty in his veins but he will still burn in Hell,” said Father Diego. “For I will bring him to his knees. He will beg me for my forgiveness. My hope is that with his cognitive coupled with his fear of my creation will bring him to see our ways. The window of opportunity to show my brethren the wisdom of my plan is closing. Soon our internecine battles will commence and I will bring down New Edge Wrestling, sinner by sinner.”
He stood up and nodded at Emily. Nocturnal walked over to a crucifix.
“These two planks of wood,” he turned and looked at Father Diego. “It confounds me; suffuses me with some kind of mortal dread. But fear is in the mind Priest.”
He moved closer to the cross, and despite his native horror of it, put out his hand and gripped it tight. Smoke rose from his hand, burning his flesh. He held on with steely determination, his face did not betray the obvious and searing pain.
“Like pain…….” he smiled. “It can be controlled.”
Finally he let go, and took a step back and turned and looked directly at Father Diego.
“If I can face my fear,” Nocturnal said. “Then it cannot master me.”
Father Diego had a shocked look upon his face. He took the crucifix from around his neck, kissed it and held it towards Nocturnal. “Unclean spirit, I cast thee out!”
“What is this?” Nocturnal said. “Like I said Priest, your trinkets cause me pain, but little more than that.”
Father Diego took one step closer to Nocturnal.
“In the name of Christ,” he said. “I command you……..”
Nocturnal interrupted him. “Sticks and stones may break my bones……but names will never hurt me.”
“In the…….” Father Diego paused. “…..name of Christ…………………”
Nocturnal interrupted once again. “Not even that one. Is he like Lord Voldemort?”
“Lord of all creation,” Father Diego stated. “Cast out this cruel Demon. Let my cry come unto thee. Now unclean spirit……I cast you out. Along with every Satanic power of the enemy; Every spectre of Hell, every savage companion. It is he who commands you; He who flung you down from the heights of Heaven. By the Judge of the living and the dead, by your creator, I command you………DEPART!!!”
Nocturnal looked around. “No nothing? Not even a little burning sensation around my penis. Bit disappointing really Priest. Someone bag this punk and bring the hot nun too.”
Cain, Emily and Caleb slowly walked towards them.
“Your Church judges us as depraved ingrates,” he said. “You are just about evangelising or enthusing. Do you not speak in tongues or start convulsing in communion with angels or dribbling and shrieking in a corner like some television evangelists. We are better than that.”
The associates of his seemed to be eating up every word that Nocturnal was saying.
“………this time I will not let anyone get in my way,” he said. “I have a briefcase match at the pay per view. It is a cluster fuck of a match. Now we need to go somewhere a little bit private.”
They dragged them out.
Outside the Church an old lady walked. With the sound of burglar alarms echoing down the streets behind her, an old bag lady wheeled a shopping cart down her block. The cart, with only three wheels fully working, housed the sum of her life; four dozen crushed cans, good for redemption at her neighbourhood market.
The woman clutched her well-worn handbag to her side. It was all she had left to remind her of another time, another life; A time when she had been considered a person. She looked at the Church before she continued on her way.
Now she was sinking in a pit of despair. She did all she could to keep from sinking. Elizabeth her name had been, once. Names didn’t enter her world anymore.
The old woman stiffened as the sound of screeching car brakes sliced through her memories. The car, filled with laughing drunken teenagers, slammed into her grocery cart, sending the cart, the cans and the old woman tumbling onto the hood and then finally the cold sidewalk.
The car sped off, the teenagers laughed at what they’d done.
Elizabeth surveyed the scene from the sidewalk. She was in pain, yes; but it was the kind of pain she was used to. She slowly got to her feet.
“Bastards…….” She muttered.
She glanced around helplessly, her treasured tin cans still twirling in the street. She made a furtive move to gather them. A blow from nowhere slammed into her stomach. The old woman doubled over, and a young thug in a “PACKERS” jersey wrenched the handbag from her side, breaking her shoulder in the process.
The thief, handbag tucked, American football style, under his left arm sprinted down a street, passing a row of laughing prostitutes, mini skirted girls, barely out of their teens, wearing more paint than a Picasso. The last prostitute extended a fishnet covered leg, sending the young thief tumbling.
Straight into a figure.
The thief slowly looked up, straight into the face of Nocturnal.
Nocturnal grabbed him by the throat and choked him out. “It’s not your day.”
Darkness fell.
A rusted old bucket was being filled with water from a filthy sink. Nocturnal’s hand turned off the water. Nocturnal walked through the house. The only sound we heard was the creaking of the rusty handle and Nocturnal’s footsteps on the wood floor.
He turned a corner and the young thug, the priest and a Nun are sat there. All three are tied to separate chairs. The young thug was awake; his eyes darted from side to side. The other two are unconscious. Father Diego was still dressed in the clothes that he preached in whilst the Nun was still in full Nun regalia. Emily Koresh was stood in the corner observing. Other members of the Koresh family observed from the back.
Nocturnal lifted the bucket and threw it on all three, The Preacher jumped awake, whilst the Nun lifted her head semi-conscious.
“Wake up my little friends,” Emily squealed. “My brother here sees you as nothing but pawns in his journey to the after world.”
“Fuck you bitch,” the thug said. “Get this off of me now!! Do you not know who I am you cunt?”
Emily slapped the thug across the face.
“Shut up, and don’t disrespect me boy,” she said. “As I am your only saviour. You think he controls me, but it is I that control the monster. I hold him back now from ripping you to bits, you little fucker. Do you want him to rip off your penis and insert it in the ass of the Priest? Hell, the Priest may like that sort of thing.”
Nocturnal walked up and stood beside his sister. He had a smirk on his face.
“You see,” she said. “Nocturnal here is becoming more than he ever was, with my help the monster will be unleash. Now that I have stopped taking my medication I see ever so clearly boys. I see why they drugged me in the first place, my babies. For I am pure evil and they……..even my family wanted to control me. But you will find this out first hand.”
“But what have we got to do with this my daughter?” Father Diego said. “Sister Jessica is innocent in your games. Please release her. We will forget all about your demonic brother.”
Emily laughed, “Innocent? Really? I smell the guilt on you my little friend. It washes off of you like the sins of my past. You ask me what she has got to do with this. It is easy. Nocturnal is a monster. He needs his victims. And you my friends are them. You cannot blame him really. He is haunted by some followers of your fake religion and he likes to torment them. He has had to put up with all of your pity for all of his life.”
All three started shouting and shaking.
“You see my three little victims,” she said. “This week live on pay per view my monster will take some asshole in the match who thinks he can clean his tainted soul by thinking that he is Mister America and nail him to a cross and whip him until his skin is raw and then walk off with the shot at either the X-Core or Trans-Atlantic Championship. My money is on Kevin Drake. That’s where you guys come into play.”
She turned and pointed at the corner where there was a pile of wood, a hammer and some barbwire.
“Oh my god!!!” the thug screamed. “You’re fucking crazy bitch! What do I have to do with this? I am the innocent one.”
Emily pulled up a chair and sat opposite them. On a small table next to her was a tool box and a brown leather folder. She opened the folder and removed three photos. She positioned each of the photos on the laps of each of the victims.
She turned to Nocturnal and nodded.
Nocturnal opened the tool box and removed a hammer and a nail. He walked over to thug, placed the photo on his hand and then hammered the nail through the photo, through his hand and into the arm of the chair.
The thug screamed loudly. He twisted and stabbed the thug with it in the hand; He pulled back screaming. Nocturnal pulled out the nail. It had gone all the way through. Nocturnal lifted the hand and looked through the hole at the Priest.
“This is going to get bloody…………” Emily said. “Nice.”
Nocturnal nodded at his cousins. Caleb and Cain grabbed hold of the Priest by the arms. Nocturnal grabbed hold of the barbwire before he returned.
“Father Diego,” he said. “I am sorry. I am really sorry. It is not your fault really. It is just I need to get this done correctly. I need to punish Johnny for what he has done.”
Cain laid the cross down as the others dragged the Priest kicking and screaming towards it. They laid him down upon the cross and Cain put his knee across the Priest’s neck pinning him there.
“Let this be proof that I am a man of my word,” Nocturnal said as he began to wrap the barbwire around the Priests head. Blood started to pour from the wounds in his head as it ripped into the flesh. “How funny Priest, Johnny will look good with a crimson mask.”
Cain nailed a spike into the Priest’s left hand at the same time Caleb did into the right hand. The Priest was losing consciousness. They raised the cross up and fixed it into the concrete leaving him dangling.
“Now that wasn’t too bad was it Father?” Nocturnal said. “Now what about the Nun?”
Emily held up a dildo wrapped in barbwire and smirked.