Post by Deleted on Mar 18, 2013 21:16:01 GMT -6
“Oh stop your whining!” The Sickness yelled inside of Drake’s mind, “You’ve gotten soft over the years. When I was on this earth we had to do the same thing, just with less modern utensils, and we never shed a tear. Those who were not fit take pain were exiled!”
“Wait you were alive!?” Drake said as he jerked his head up simultaneously jerking up the line making him cringe in pain, “Shit!”
“What? You don’t think that I just magically appeared in your head do you?” The Sick said peaking Drake’s curiosity. This was the first time Drake had ever heard this, most likely because he had never really sat down and talked to Sick before today. Until now Drake had just thought he might be mentally insane and created the Sickness himself.
“Then where did you come from? When did you come from? Why are you in my mind?” Drake questioned the Sickness. His mind was beginning to spin with the sudden upload of information. He had stopped stitching his wound to focus on the conversation. He did not want to miss a single detail of Sick’s up coming story.
To Drake’s dismay, Sick only answered with, “If you were meant to know my origins then you would have already known. I do not wish for you to know…Not yet anyways. Focus on the job at hand and continue to fix that wound.”
Drake simply let out a loud huff before going back to his stitching. With each pull of the wire he squinted in pain. The heat from the electricity had cauterized most of the wound, but there was still a huge gash in the middle of Drake’s back. This was not Drake’s first rodeo with self-treatment of open wounds. This was a normal practice when he was in his independent wrestling days. He competed in numerous hardcore matches and fixed himself up instead of going to the doctor in fear of the doctor not letting him compete.
Drake finally finished sewing his body after several winces and cries of pain. He took a small pair of scissors to cut the fishing line and then tied the line. “Good as new,” Drake said grinning into the mirror. Drake had hundreds of cuts and bruises on his body from the insane three way match that his body had experienced on Ignite. “You know, I wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for you, Sick. You promised me victory and you let me down. You said you could destroy Patrick!”
“Calm down you idiot, I did not lose the match! Lost in Time lost the match to Patrick because your body is weak! It couldn’t take anymore abuse so I could not break up the pin! Like I said…You’ve gotten soft over theyears,” The Sickness said infuriated that Drake accused him of not doing his job.
“So, you don’t win the match, and it’s my fault!?” Drake questions his mental accomplice.
“Precisely. You are not the Drake that you used to be, and your body is not as strong because of it. You used to the king of death matches! You used to be a hardcore icon in the wrestling ring! Now you can’t even get through a couple of hardcore matches without your body shutting down.You need to stop staying at these luxurious hotels with all of the other pretty boy wrestlers and start going back to the normal days of the slums. You need to live like a fighter to be a fighter,” the Sickness lectured.
Drake wanted to argue against the Sickness, but deep down Drake knew that he was right. He has gotten used to normal matches and not taking as much pain, also not to mention the three years he took off from wrestling. Drake knew that if he wanted to survive in NEW that he would need to get back to his old ways and lifestyle.
Before Drake could say anything back to the Sickness, his phone began to vibrate on the counter of his bathroom. He picked it up and checked the screen. There was a new message from Vanessa on it. He swiped his screen to open the message and it read, “Drake Blake versus Renegade this week on Ignite. Good luck to the both of you.”
“Renegade, eh?” The Sickness hissed before Drake could get anything out. “This one could be a tough one.”
“You might be right…Renegade is a former Xcore Champion, but beating him will definitely give me a push in the Xcore division and I’ve missed having a title in my arms,” Drake said as he began to smile.
“Don’t let your ego get in the way Drake. This will be a good time to focus on getting back to you extreme ways, especially against a former Xcore champion. Though we won’t be able to use weaponry in this match, you can see how this division will fare in the future,” the Sickness coached to Blake.
“Well first things first, we need to get to Pittsburgh and instead of checking into a hotel like this one we can rent a rundown apartment for the week like the good ole days,” Drake said beginning to pack his suitcase,“My flight leaves in the morning, so it gives us plenty of time to train there.”
“That also leaves tonight to start the training,” Sick said, crushing Drake’s dreams of having one last relaxing night. He knew this change was going to be hard, especially going back to where he had no days off to relax and nonstop training. Drake’s body was about to go through hell even before the match with the former champion, especially with the Sickness being his drill sergeant.
“Seriously?” Drake whined as he stopped packing his bag, “I thought with your power I wouldn’t need to train.”
“That was until I found out how weak you have gotten. I could have used the old Drake body that we fought over for mass destruction.This body is worthless at the moment. I will get it suitable to withstand immense pain and cause great destruction. Being unstoppable takes work, trust me,” The Sickness hissed coldly.
“Well since I’m putting in all this hard work the least you could do is tell me where you came from,” Drake said as he began to exit the room.
“All in time young one,” The Sickness said, leaving Drake’s mind puzzled with questions.
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The wind blew fiercely in the desert. Everything was blurry and hazy. You could barely see anything, except the sky was blood red with pitch black clouds. Battle cries could be heard as thousands of soldiers on both sides of these apparent war grounds. These men were not modern soldiers, they were wearing primitive leather armor and wielding round shields and scimitars. There were also archers and men riding horses wielding spears.
Drake ruffled around in the sand before standing slowly to his feet. He looked around to the soldiers of the side that he was on. He was standing in front of their entire army, but they seemed to not notice him.There were thousands of soldiers in front of him and even more on the other side of the battlefield.
A figure appeared on a dark black horse out of the crowd of soldiers to the frontlines. The horse was equipped with the same style leather armor, but the rider wore a heavy plated iron armor and wielded two long swords sheathed onto his back. The man’s face was covered by a demonic looking helmet with two long horns coming out of the sides and pointing to the sky. This man seemed to be the soldiers’ leader as they all looked towards him waiting for the signal to attack.
The man slowly took off his helmet to reveal his face. Drake’s eyes widened when he saw the man’s face. It looked exactly like Drake except his face was painted in dark black war paint. Drake’s jaw dropped at this strange doppleganger. “Who is that man? Why does he look like me? Why the hell am I in the desert!?” Drake wondered aloud standing in front of an army.
The Drake Blake look alike unsheathed both of his swords and started to twirl them one in each hand. The troops watched in anticipation.These men were thirsting for blood and violence. They were itching to go to battle.
The man on the horse quickly pointed both the swords in the direction of the other army and started to a huge roar of a battle cry. His troops all yelled simultaneously charging towards the other army…and towards Drake. The other armor followed in hand and started to roar before sprinting towards Drake’s direction as well.
Just before the armies collided with Drake in the middle of it all, he awoke with a gasp. Drake looked around the dark hotel room with the only bit of light was the moon shining through the window. He was trying his best to catch his breath, but was having trouble doing so. He has had bad nightmares before, but none that felt as real as this one. Could it be because of the Sickness?
“What the fuck was that all about?” Drake managed to mutter out. He could still feel the heat of the barren desert that he was standing in.What meaning did the strange dream have? Drake shook his head violently trying to clear his head, but visions of the dream kept swarming back into his head.This was not what Drake needed on his mind before a match with a former Champion.
“Go back to sleep Drake. You will need your rest for our training,” The Sickness hissed in the back of Drakes mind.
“But what does that dream mean? I know you saw it too,” Drake questioned the Sickness.
“It was just a dream Drake. Just go back to sleep,” The Sickness said trying to calm Drake down. Drake laid back down in the bed trying to go back to sleep, but he could not sleep after witnessing what he did. He could not shake the feeling that the Sickness was hiding something about the dream.