Post by Hazard on Aug 16, 2019 1:43:28 GMT -6
"If you have a problem with me, come at me! Leave my kid out of this!!"
In the game known as Chess, most would tell you that not all pawns are created equal. That some become meaningless sacrifices while others dictate how the board plays out.
I beg to differ.
As long as you achieve your end game, your "Check Mate"... every move is significant.
"Call off your dog! I accept!"
Have you ever tried to command a wild animal? They won't speak for you. They won't play dead or roll over. There is only one constant in their life, for however long it might span. You have to eat to survive. All I did was show mine it's next meal. But perhaps it wasn't desperate enough to MAKE SURE it was successful? That, and it's also a window licking dumb ass who can barely tie it's own shoes, let alone perform such a task as kidnapping.
"If he thinks rattling my cage will give him an edge, he's got another thing coming! I'm Roger fucking Wright! Wrestling Royalty! I'm the best in the World! Past, present or future! ... when it comes to juggling dirty whores and winning! How dare the peasant involve my daughter, Marie! I'll kill him if he doesn't kill me first!!"
Your anger. It... amuses me. It's so... untamed. Just a tidal wave of raw emotion, pouring from every orifice. You see the World from behind a crimson veil. Foam gathering at the corner's of your mouth, oozing it's way out from behind your lips. You're shaking uncontrollably. You twitch, snort, growl, snarl. You've obtained a valuable power, yet have no idea how to control it. Unable to fathom all of it's strengths and weaknesses.
You're a ticking time bomb, ready to explode from the slightest manipulation.
You hate me, when in fact...
What you should do is THANK ME. Yes, Roger. Show a little gratitude. I mean, what kind of man were you before I raped your psyche? How did you conduct yourself?
Fan Favorite? ... Repulsive.
Kind and gentle soul? ... Nauseating.
Loving Father? ... Pathetic.
You were what society approved of. That they embraced as the norm. What they could get behind. Support, applaud, praise. What they'd want their children to strive for. Aspire to one day become a duplicate.
(He still is... because you're the villain.)
Every one dies. Even heroes.
"Will Ascension be his funeral?"
The big man pondered, as he glanced out the window of his hotel room. Peeking out from a small gap in the drapes. The last we'd seen from Hazard was a heated exchange with Roger Wright, followed by a pursuit of sorts. The conclusion being that Hazard left the arena just before he was within arm's reach. But Roger wasn't a fool. He knew what that failure meant, and covered all his necessary bases to ensure that his daughter (Marie) would remain safe. Under constant surveillance until their match had run it's course. When in reality, she was never the target. Feints are a beautiful work of art if done correctly. The Monster got what he'd been yearning for. Now it was time to deliver. One opportunity, to show every one with the stomach to watch... that he wasn't to be disregarded like the trash Roger made him out to be.
Haz continued to stand guard at the window, clearly taking notice to the men under Wright's employ who had been sent after him. They'd been parked outside for sometime. Hours, to be precise. Sitting comfortably in their SUV's. Folding both arms over his massive chest, as we'd seen a thousand times before, he commented on the predicament he now found himself in.
"Can I tell you what strikes me as comical? Roger says that I shouldn't send a "Spaz" to do my dirty work... but right outside, he has two vehicles of them. Recon? Or assault? It makes little difference. Three moves ahead, boy... That's where I'll always be compared to you. This is child's play, akin to a friendly game of hop scotch or tether ball. Want proof? Oh don't worry, Roger... it's coming. But before all of that..."
Turning his attention away from the window, Haz strode over to the bed. On top of it, situated directly in the center, was an iron lock box. The contents unknown. That is, until he slide his key into the lock and turned it over. As it opened, there lay the mask. Not any ordinary mask, but THE MASK. Every one their own source of power. Some with the words they speak, some with the items they choose to keep. He removed it from the box, examining it thoroughly while holding it in a pair of hands that could most likely strangle a horse. Tilting his head to the side, he entered an almost trance like state.
(What's on your mind, child?)
I want you to take a long, hard look at me. Then fixate your eyes on my opponent. What is it that you see?
(In this World, you are a King. He is an Emperor.)
Expand.
(You've only ever ruled one nation. He's united many under the same banner. You were both born to lead. But unless you overcome him, you'll never be mentioned in the same breath.)
That means...
(Exactly how it sounds. Use everything I've taught you. Expose him. Show the entire World, that he sits on a throne made from lies. His crown is nothing but a cheap imitation. The Monarchical title that was handed down to him, is one he is no longer worthy of. It's moved on from him, whether he chooses to accept or deny. He was never your superior. Never on a plateau higher than your own. The envy you have for this man which draws your ire, is your greatest weapon. Run it through his heart, shed his blood, stand over his corpse, and declare yourself the rightful heir!)
He jolted back, almost knocking over a lamp in the process. Hurling the mask back onto the bed as well. We've seen similar behavior in the past, and everything about it looked like more of the same. All except for his reaction. Haz wasn't confused, surprised, or fearful. Rather content, as a grin developed on his face. One only a Mother could love. Plopping down on the edge of the bed, the mask now in his rear view, the big man inhaled sharply.
"I'll be as blunt as I can, Roger. The goons sitting outside? I have no interest in them. Your daughter, Marie? Let's chalk that up as more of a... fleeting interest. Maiming you in front of every one that loves and respects you? Now THAT... peaks my interest. THAT... excites me. THAT... was my motive all along. Let me educate you on the World I come from, as it may differ greatly from yours. There are two ways to live. You take what is available, you don't piss and moan about what you receive, and you just make due. Or... you see something you want, do whatever it takes to obtain it, then dare anyone to come and pry it from your cold, dead fingers."
Haz paused briefly to tap the side of his head with his index finger.
"What goes on inside this mind... wouldn't be found in the deepest, darkest corner of your worst nightmare, Roger. But they aren't thoughts and dreams so much as... me, watching the inevitable unfold. A preview, if you will. Of every self inflicted wound that will adorn your body following Ascension. I know what must be going through your head about now. 'But how can they be self inflicted if this psychopath is the one beating the shit out of me?!' That's easy..."
"Next time, choose your words more carefully. I could warn you until I'm blue in the face, but we both know your too stubborn to listen or even comprehend the gravity behind my words. All that wise cracking about my name makes it so obvious that it hurts. A snake is no longer a HAZARD if you stab it in the throat, right? What if it bites you before that happens? Give the animal kingdom the credit it deserves, Roger. What if... you're in the middle of nowhere? Maybe on a hike near your ranch? Just enjoying the sights and sounds of what's around you. When out of nowhere, it strikes. Within an instant, you feel a sharp pain in your ankle. You glance down, just in time to see the reptile flee, but it's already too late. You've been compromised. It's venom is moving it's way through your bloodstream, making a b-line for your heart. Working it's oh so cruel magic. Now, instinct tells you to head for the nearest sign of civilization. But then your brain begins to formulate a way out of this. Oh, right! You have a cell phone. You try to turn it on... but, what's this? Shit, your battery's spent. Maybe you shouldn't have made a bunch of useless phone calls earlier in the day? Have I said enough? Or would you like to know how it ends? Spoiler alert... you die, and the scavengers grow fat off your corpse. But you don't need to hear it from me to know that it's a VERY REAL possibility, do you? No... you're smarter than that, Roger."
Rising from the bed to his feet, The Monster glanced back at his mask. That fear inducing grin on his face once more.
"Once upon a time, I despised that stupid mask. I did everything in my power to do away with it. Rid myself of it. Create as much distance as humanly possible. But all these years away from Wrestling can do strange things to a man. When you do return, if you decide to that is, your agenda is no longer the same. What you aspired to be could have radically changed. What you wanted, and what you wanted rid of... could have ended up on opposite ends of the spectrum. See... I know what Jesse's doing. Adding the Heavyweight Title into the equation, I mean. Are you aware of it? My guess is no. But I will share, because I find it rather humorous. It's a deterrent, nothing else. What, did you really believe he wanted to crown his Golden Boy, Roger? That this was meant to be one of many defining moments in your career? Slay the Monster, become Heavyweight Champion once again, and... well, you'll probably end up with chlamydia regardless. Moving on..."
"It's Jesse's way of throwing me a bone in hopes that I'll be merciful enough to spare you. It's big, it's shiny, a lot of people want it... maybe Hazard won't rip my biggest investment in two? Wright? WRONG... truth be known, that belt means very little to me. I've held it before, twice. I proved, beyond a shadow of doubt, that I could be the top dog. Stay the top dog? Well, that's up for debate. So maybe, deep down, there is an incentive for me not to go too far. Pin you, when I could grant your wish by ending your life instead. It's there. It exists. But the question is... will I bite?"
"You already know that answer, Roger. And --
KAAAAAABBBBBOOOOOOMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"Hold that thought... your proof just arrived."
The Monster walks over to the window, pulling the drapes all the way to each side, so we can get an amazing view of the carnage. Two SUV's, chocked full of charred remains. Intense flames encasing both vehicles as smoke billows out from every conceivable opening in the frame.
"Your biggest mistake wasn't sending them to watch me, Roger. It was forgetting one key detail about who I am. "What Hazard is".
The door to his hotel room slowly opens as in walks a cloaked figure.
"You can't focus all your attention on me, because..."
Removing the hood, we see that it was Spaz all along. He gives a thumbs up to the big guy, signaling that his task was successful.
"You'll forget all about me."
The Hardcore Homosexual stretched his right arm upward, presumably going for a high five. But it gets no sold as Hazard brushed by him and exited the hotel room. His much smaller manager lagging a couple feet behind.
"Damn, Hazzy... it smells like burnt hair."
"Well... what else would it smell like?"
"Uh... beats me. Eating a shovel to the honker really fucks with your senses. By the way, where we off to, big guy?"
"You hear the sirens, don't you?"
"What?"
Haz stopped and turned toward Spaz, leaning in much closer and clearing his throat. Just then, we hear sirens approaching in the distance.
"I said... DO... YOU... HEAR... THE... SIRENS?!"
"Who the fuck is Byron?"
It was at this moment, that palm met face and with authority. Speaking of, they were closing the gap in a hurry. Haz and Spaz piled into the big man's Black Suv and tore out of the parking lot. Disappearing into the night. As seconds transitioned into minutes, then hours, it was now daylight out. What was once a quiet area had turned into a full blown crime scene investigation. The epicenter of the massive explosions was taped off on all four sides, prohibiting the media or curious onlookers from getting too close to the grotesque sight. We panned in, as two local P.D. members were sifting through the wreckage. Looking for any kind of leads in the form of evidence. That's when a black Chevy Impala pulled into view. A man with golden Blonde hair exited the driver side. A badge pinned to his neatly pressed button up shirt. He adjusted the holster under his arm and approached the two officers.
"Hey... I'm only gonna ask this once, and I'll try to be as polite as I can be."
The two officers turned to face him with a dumbfounded expression playing on their faces. As they did this, the new arrival pointed at the barbecued SUV's behind them, and in an irritated tone... asked his question.
"Who the fuck gave either of you permission... to put your grubby hands all over your my crime scene?"
Yep, still dumbfounded on both accounts. But he didn't give them a chance to retort.
"You... you... you're not getting it. Let me make this easy. Me? Detective. You? Beat Cops. Go and get me a fucking Coffee, please and thank you."
They concede to his request, much to their own dismay as another officer enters our view. The Detective begins to survey they area in the meantime.
"Detective Maddox, glad you're finally here, sir! We've got a real mess on our hands with this one! Looks like dynamite may have been the cause. Eight confirmed dead, all incinerated in the blast."
"Do we have any witnesses?"
"No, sir. The Manager of the hotel did state that the men were parked out here for most the day. Well into the night. He clocked out at eight P.M. and didn't receive word of the incident until closer to one A.M."
"All right, here's what I want. If you can salvage those plates, run them. I want to find out who owns these vehicles. And what these men were doing here if they weren't staying at the hotel. Second, comb the area again. Somebody had to see why this got so... messy."
"Right away, sir!"
After giving his report and receiving his orders, the Officer went off to do as requested. Leaving Detective Maddox alone to take a closer look at everything. That's when he saw it. Kneeling down near the back door, he reached under the debris and pulled what looked to be a piece of paper. Upon further inspection, it turned out to be a photograph.
"And who are you, big fellah?"
He inquired, staring at the half charred photo of Hazard.
- Fade
In the game known as Chess, most would tell you that not all pawns are created equal. That some become meaningless sacrifices while others dictate how the board plays out.
I beg to differ.
As long as you achieve your end game, your "Check Mate"... every move is significant.
"Call off your dog! I accept!"
Have you ever tried to command a wild animal? They won't speak for you. They won't play dead or roll over. There is only one constant in their life, for however long it might span. You have to eat to survive. All I did was show mine it's next meal. But perhaps it wasn't desperate enough to MAKE SURE it was successful? That, and it's also a window licking dumb ass who can barely tie it's own shoes, let alone perform such a task as kidnapping.
"If he thinks rattling my cage will give him an edge, he's got another thing coming! I'm Roger fucking Wright! Wrestling Royalty! I'm the best in the World! Past, present or future! ... when it comes to juggling dirty whores and winning! How dare the peasant involve my daughter, Marie! I'll kill him if he doesn't kill me first!!"
Your anger. It... amuses me. It's so... untamed. Just a tidal wave of raw emotion, pouring from every orifice. You see the World from behind a crimson veil. Foam gathering at the corner's of your mouth, oozing it's way out from behind your lips. You're shaking uncontrollably. You twitch, snort, growl, snarl. You've obtained a valuable power, yet have no idea how to control it. Unable to fathom all of it's strengths and weaknesses.
You're a ticking time bomb, ready to explode from the slightest manipulation.
You hate me, when in fact...
What you should do is THANK ME. Yes, Roger. Show a little gratitude. I mean, what kind of man were you before I raped your psyche? How did you conduct yourself?
Fan Favorite? ... Repulsive.
Kind and gentle soul? ... Nauseating.
Loving Father? ... Pathetic.
You were what society approved of. That they embraced as the norm. What they could get behind. Support, applaud, praise. What they'd want their children to strive for. Aspire to one day become a duplicate.
(He still is... because you're the villain.)
Every one dies. Even heroes.
"Will Ascension be his funeral?"
The big man pondered, as he glanced out the window of his hotel room. Peeking out from a small gap in the drapes. The last we'd seen from Hazard was a heated exchange with Roger Wright, followed by a pursuit of sorts. The conclusion being that Hazard left the arena just before he was within arm's reach. But Roger wasn't a fool. He knew what that failure meant, and covered all his necessary bases to ensure that his daughter (Marie) would remain safe. Under constant surveillance until their match had run it's course. When in reality, she was never the target. Feints are a beautiful work of art if done correctly. The Monster got what he'd been yearning for. Now it was time to deliver. One opportunity, to show every one with the stomach to watch... that he wasn't to be disregarded like the trash Roger made him out to be.
Haz continued to stand guard at the window, clearly taking notice to the men under Wright's employ who had been sent after him. They'd been parked outside for sometime. Hours, to be precise. Sitting comfortably in their SUV's. Folding both arms over his massive chest, as we'd seen a thousand times before, he commented on the predicament he now found himself in.
"Can I tell you what strikes me as comical? Roger says that I shouldn't send a "Spaz" to do my dirty work... but right outside, he has two vehicles of them. Recon? Or assault? It makes little difference. Three moves ahead, boy... That's where I'll always be compared to you. This is child's play, akin to a friendly game of hop scotch or tether ball. Want proof? Oh don't worry, Roger... it's coming. But before all of that..."
Turning his attention away from the window, Haz strode over to the bed. On top of it, situated directly in the center, was an iron lock box. The contents unknown. That is, until he slide his key into the lock and turned it over. As it opened, there lay the mask. Not any ordinary mask, but THE MASK. Every one their own source of power. Some with the words they speak, some with the items they choose to keep. He removed it from the box, examining it thoroughly while holding it in a pair of hands that could most likely strangle a horse. Tilting his head to the side, he entered an almost trance like state.
(What's on your mind, child?)
I want you to take a long, hard look at me. Then fixate your eyes on my opponent. What is it that you see?
(In this World, you are a King. He is an Emperor.)
Expand.
(You've only ever ruled one nation. He's united many under the same banner. You were both born to lead. But unless you overcome him, you'll never be mentioned in the same breath.)
That means...
(Exactly how it sounds. Use everything I've taught you. Expose him. Show the entire World, that he sits on a throne made from lies. His crown is nothing but a cheap imitation. The Monarchical title that was handed down to him, is one he is no longer worthy of. It's moved on from him, whether he chooses to accept or deny. He was never your superior. Never on a plateau higher than your own. The envy you have for this man which draws your ire, is your greatest weapon. Run it through his heart, shed his blood, stand over his corpse, and declare yourself the rightful heir!)
He jolted back, almost knocking over a lamp in the process. Hurling the mask back onto the bed as well. We've seen similar behavior in the past, and everything about it looked like more of the same. All except for his reaction. Haz wasn't confused, surprised, or fearful. Rather content, as a grin developed on his face. One only a Mother could love. Plopping down on the edge of the bed, the mask now in his rear view, the big man inhaled sharply.
"I'll be as blunt as I can, Roger. The goons sitting outside? I have no interest in them. Your daughter, Marie? Let's chalk that up as more of a... fleeting interest. Maiming you in front of every one that loves and respects you? Now THAT... peaks my interest. THAT... excites me. THAT... was my motive all along. Let me educate you on the World I come from, as it may differ greatly from yours. There are two ways to live. You take what is available, you don't piss and moan about what you receive, and you just make due. Or... you see something you want, do whatever it takes to obtain it, then dare anyone to come and pry it from your cold, dead fingers."
Haz paused briefly to tap the side of his head with his index finger.
"What goes on inside this mind... wouldn't be found in the deepest, darkest corner of your worst nightmare, Roger. But they aren't thoughts and dreams so much as... me, watching the inevitable unfold. A preview, if you will. Of every self inflicted wound that will adorn your body following Ascension. I know what must be going through your head about now. 'But how can they be self inflicted if this psychopath is the one beating the shit out of me?!' That's easy..."
"Next time, choose your words more carefully. I could warn you until I'm blue in the face, but we both know your too stubborn to listen or even comprehend the gravity behind my words. All that wise cracking about my name makes it so obvious that it hurts. A snake is no longer a HAZARD if you stab it in the throat, right? What if it bites you before that happens? Give the animal kingdom the credit it deserves, Roger. What if... you're in the middle of nowhere? Maybe on a hike near your ranch? Just enjoying the sights and sounds of what's around you. When out of nowhere, it strikes. Within an instant, you feel a sharp pain in your ankle. You glance down, just in time to see the reptile flee, but it's already too late. You've been compromised. It's venom is moving it's way through your bloodstream, making a b-line for your heart. Working it's oh so cruel magic. Now, instinct tells you to head for the nearest sign of civilization. But then your brain begins to formulate a way out of this. Oh, right! You have a cell phone. You try to turn it on... but, what's this? Shit, your battery's spent. Maybe you shouldn't have made a bunch of useless phone calls earlier in the day? Have I said enough? Or would you like to know how it ends? Spoiler alert... you die, and the scavengers grow fat off your corpse. But you don't need to hear it from me to know that it's a VERY REAL possibility, do you? No... you're smarter than that, Roger."
Rising from the bed to his feet, The Monster glanced back at his mask. That fear inducing grin on his face once more.
"Once upon a time, I despised that stupid mask. I did everything in my power to do away with it. Rid myself of it. Create as much distance as humanly possible. But all these years away from Wrestling can do strange things to a man. When you do return, if you decide to that is, your agenda is no longer the same. What you aspired to be could have radically changed. What you wanted, and what you wanted rid of... could have ended up on opposite ends of the spectrum. See... I know what Jesse's doing. Adding the Heavyweight Title into the equation, I mean. Are you aware of it? My guess is no. But I will share, because I find it rather humorous. It's a deterrent, nothing else. What, did you really believe he wanted to crown his Golden Boy, Roger? That this was meant to be one of many defining moments in your career? Slay the Monster, become Heavyweight Champion once again, and... well, you'll probably end up with chlamydia regardless. Moving on..."
"It's Jesse's way of throwing me a bone in hopes that I'll be merciful enough to spare you. It's big, it's shiny, a lot of people want it... maybe Hazard won't rip my biggest investment in two? Wright? WRONG... truth be known, that belt means very little to me. I've held it before, twice. I proved, beyond a shadow of doubt, that I could be the top dog. Stay the top dog? Well, that's up for debate. So maybe, deep down, there is an incentive for me not to go too far. Pin you, when I could grant your wish by ending your life instead. It's there. It exists. But the question is... will I bite?"
"You already know that answer, Roger. And --
KAAAAAABBBBBOOOOOOMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"Hold that thought... your proof just arrived."
The Monster walks over to the window, pulling the drapes all the way to each side, so we can get an amazing view of the carnage. Two SUV's, chocked full of charred remains. Intense flames encasing both vehicles as smoke billows out from every conceivable opening in the frame.
"Your biggest mistake wasn't sending them to watch me, Roger. It was forgetting one key detail about who I am. "What Hazard is".
The door to his hotel room slowly opens as in walks a cloaked figure.
"You can't focus all your attention on me, because..."
Removing the hood, we see that it was Spaz all along. He gives a thumbs up to the big guy, signaling that his task was successful.
"You'll forget all about me."
The Hardcore Homosexual stretched his right arm upward, presumably going for a high five. But it gets no sold as Hazard brushed by him and exited the hotel room. His much smaller manager lagging a couple feet behind.
"Damn, Hazzy... it smells like burnt hair."
"Well... what else would it smell like?"
"Uh... beats me. Eating a shovel to the honker really fucks with your senses. By the way, where we off to, big guy?"
"You hear the sirens, don't you?"
"What?"
Haz stopped and turned toward Spaz, leaning in much closer and clearing his throat. Just then, we hear sirens approaching in the distance.
"I said... DO... YOU... HEAR... THE... SIRENS?!"
"Who the fuck is Byron?"
It was at this moment, that palm met face and with authority. Speaking of, they were closing the gap in a hurry. Haz and Spaz piled into the big man's Black Suv and tore out of the parking lot. Disappearing into the night. As seconds transitioned into minutes, then hours, it was now daylight out. What was once a quiet area had turned into a full blown crime scene investigation. The epicenter of the massive explosions was taped off on all four sides, prohibiting the media or curious onlookers from getting too close to the grotesque sight. We panned in, as two local P.D. members were sifting through the wreckage. Looking for any kind of leads in the form of evidence. That's when a black Chevy Impala pulled into view. A man with golden Blonde hair exited the driver side. A badge pinned to his neatly pressed button up shirt. He adjusted the holster under his arm and approached the two officers.
"Hey... I'm only gonna ask this once, and I'll try to be as polite as I can be."
The two officers turned to face him with a dumbfounded expression playing on their faces. As they did this, the new arrival pointed at the barbecued SUV's behind them, and in an irritated tone... asked his question.
"Who the fuck gave either of you permission... to put your grubby hands all over your my crime scene?"
Yep, still dumbfounded on both accounts. But he didn't give them a chance to retort.
"You... you... you're not getting it. Let me make this easy. Me? Detective. You? Beat Cops. Go and get me a fucking Coffee, please and thank you."
They concede to his request, much to their own dismay as another officer enters our view. The Detective begins to survey they area in the meantime.
"Detective Maddox, glad you're finally here, sir! We've got a real mess on our hands with this one! Looks like dynamite may have been the cause. Eight confirmed dead, all incinerated in the blast."
"Do we have any witnesses?"
"No, sir. The Manager of the hotel did state that the men were parked out here for most the day. Well into the night. He clocked out at eight P.M. and didn't receive word of the incident until closer to one A.M."
"All right, here's what I want. If you can salvage those plates, run them. I want to find out who owns these vehicles. And what these men were doing here if they weren't staying at the hotel. Second, comb the area again. Somebody had to see why this got so... messy."
"Right away, sir!"
After giving his report and receiving his orders, the Officer went off to do as requested. Leaving Detective Maddox alone to take a closer look at everything. That's when he saw it. Kneeling down near the back door, he reached under the debris and pulled what looked to be a piece of paper. Upon further inspection, it turned out to be a photograph.
"And who are you, big fellah?"
He inquired, staring at the half charred photo of Hazard.
- Fade