Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Welcome to NEW ERA WRESTLING

Click Here To Get Started!


NEW World Heavyweight Champion: Romeo Stylez
NEW North American Champion: Frederick Grayson
NEW Television Champion: Nightmare
NEW Tag Team Champions: Evans & Murdoch

Abstract NEW Fact
After 219 shows and 1184 matches featuring 326 different superstars, NEWera has shut its doors. Thank you all.

View Our Updated Fact Sheet!




Upcoming NEW Cards
--

Last Show Results
Vindication V

Promo of the Moment
"Hot Pastrami" by Outkast

Quote of the Moment
“This meant something.” - Marc Martin

Welcome to NEWera Wrestling. We hope you enjoy your visit.


You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free.


Join our community!


If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features:

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
Are You Alright?
Topic Started: Oct 28 2012, 03:37 AM (209 Views)
The Beast
Beast
[ *  * ]

Are You Alright?


"I've Lost You" by Elvis Presley was playing in the background and a ballgame played on a small television.

"Now Carrie..." a yellow waterfall of alcohol crashed into the bottom of a glass "she's our youngest, she wants to dress up as one of them rapper girls." The glass switched holders after it was filled-up. "Nicky something."

"Nicki Minaj?" Cory Williamson wondered, curiosity smeared across his grinning face.

"Yeah, yeah. She's the one. The kid LOVES her." Randy Slone tilted the bottle of his favorite alcohol and began to fill up a glass of his own. He always poured his glass a little higher than his companies. After all, he was the one who purchased the bottle. "But I just don't get it."

Cory put away a mouthful of his glass, far too impatient to wait for a toast.

"Call me old-fashioned, but I always thought Halloween was about... ya know... monsters, ghouls, skeletons.... Shit like that, not people!"

Randy continued. "Let me tell you," he finished filling his drink and sat the bottle on the desk separating them both. "If I'm a parent in today's world... I'm handing out MY candy to the scary costumes. Ya know? Let the kids dressed up as Eminem and Drake and Mariah Carry know that next year, they're going to need to put more thought into their trick-or-treating if they want the good stuff."

Cory nodded after pouring down another drink. THEN, he held up his glass. "Cheers to that!" The two of them knocked their glasses and drank.

The two men laughed together as their alcohol began to stir up inside of them.

Meanwhile, in the corner of the room, someone wasn't quite as cheerful. Drew had woke up in the middle of the night to find that he'd been locked-up and placed in handcuffs. His cell smelled like filth and the walls were scribbled with profanities by cheaters and thieves. He didn't remember much, a problem he often faced in his life, and he wondered why he head hurt so much and how he ended up here.

He had been quiet for too long. Tired of sitting in the dark, forced into enduring the mindless babble, Drew decided it was time to speak up.

"Hey." his voice was rough. They'd given him one glass of water, over eight hours ago, and he needed another, badly. He tried to wet his lips and try again. "Hello?" This time, one of his guards heard him. Cory, to be exact, turned his already drunken cranium toward the small cell in the corner.

"What are ya hollering about over there?" Cory rose up out of the chair in front of Randy's desk. He sat down his drink, gripped the handle of the gun in the holster wrapped around his hips and moved carefully toward the cell.

These two security guards, while trained, were not used to dealing with madmen who go around pointing guns in people's faces.

"I said what do ya want!?" Cory demanded an answer once he was within a few feet of the cage. Fear was in his eyes, and Drew could see it. He'd been trained to do so on day far ago passed, one that he couldn't remember clearly enough to recall.

Drew cleared his throat once again. "I... uh... just wanted to ask you something."

"Yeah? Then what it is?"

Drew cracked a smile, which led to Cory pulling out his gun and aiming it at the prisoner's skull. Beads of nervous sweat poured down the young security guard as he shook with uncertainty. "What are you planning in there?!"

"Nothing at all!" Drew responded, standing up from his small bed. "I told you already. I just want to ask you a question." He held his hands up to try proving he had nothing up his sleeve. "That's all."

Cory couldn't decide; should he keep his eyes on the prisoner or look back to make sure Randy still has his back. In the process of deciding, he ended up taking turns doing both. The handle of his gun was becoming hot from the rise in his blood pressure.

"Well uh..." he began, wiping away sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his black sweater. "uh... go on then, what is it?" At that point, Randy got up out of his seat and moved from behind his cluttered desk to stand behind his assistant.

"Yeah," Randy began, hands at his hips, "we're here to help." he concluded with a sarcastic, teasing smile that was mostly hidden by his untrimmed mustache. Cory felt like he should've smiled as well, but all that he could muster was a nervous, broken movement of the mouth.

Drew slowly lowered his hands. As he did, he was relieved to see the assistant security guard lower the silver gun he'd been pointing. "Uh." he began with a chuckle. "this is kind of stupid but... uh... how did I get here?"

They both stared at Drew for a few long seconds. The clock ticked. The machines outside rang. And the chatter of the masses and the songs on the radio hummed along with it all. Finally, Randy titled his balding head slightly and commanded an explanation.

"How did you get here?" he asked.

"Yeah." Drew replied, unable to recall any of the events that got him locked away.

Randy grinned with malice. He glanced over at Corey with eyes that asked who is this guy. Meanwhile, Corey was still far too frightened by the moment to smile back or even keep eye-contact for too long. These two guys were very different in the way they were handling this situation. One was carefree and confident, the other was frightened and shaken. But they both shared one thing: they didn't believe Drew.

"Shut up." Cory nodded frantically in agreement at Randy's words. "And sit down!"

So Drew sighed. And sat back down. Still clueless as to how he got here.

"WHERE IS HE?!"
a voice cried out.

A small, curvy woman rushed through the doorway and scanned the room. Her eyes set on Randy. Then Cory. Then the cell. Then Drew.

"THAT'S HIM?!"


Denia approached the cell, fists rolled up tightly, just before bursting forward and grabbing the bars with a sinister snarl.

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, IDIOT? PULLING A GUN AT MY MAN LIKE THAT!"


Drew blinked a few times and watched as Denia rattled his cage, desperate to get inside and punish him.

"ARE YOU CRAZY? INSANE? OF ALL THE PEOPLE IN THIS CASINO, YOU DECIDE TO TRY AND ROB THE TALLEST, STRONGEST MAN IN HERE? YOU'RE LUCKY HE DIDN'T KILL YOU!"
Denia had been told that she'd seemed wilder ever since she'd started dating Wildebeest. She'd just wave them off with a playful laugh.
But now, with her eyes bulging and her lip trembling, she thought maybe they were right.

Meanwhile, Drew's eyes were confused. What gun? What man? What was this lunatic talking about..

"Ma'am..." Randy interrupted. Denia slung her head back and glared him down. "Please, calm down. We can't have you provoking the prisoner."

"Back off!"
Denia faced the cell once more.

Drew stood up again. He took a step or two forward and looked down at the angry woman on the other side of his cage.

"Look, I'm a little confused about all of this... I don't really remember what happened, but from the looks of things, it was something bad..."

"You are damn right it was!"
she interrupted. "You put a gun in my man's face and demanded money!"

Drew kind of shrugged his shoulders, confusion settling in on his face.

"You're just lucky you're in that cage or I'd tear you apart!"


Drew sighed, for it was all he could do. He didn't remember pulling a gun on her man, but her rage made it hard to deny. After all, everything seemed to be pointing to the fact that he'd done the awful crime he'd been accused of doing.
He was locked up. People were mad at him. And he felt really, really bad.

"That's enough."
, a booming, commanding voice was heard.

"Wildebeest will tolerate this no more."


And then he appeared, like a flame reigniting with the touch of the wind.
He was bruised. He was battered. He hurt in places that he'd forgotten. He couldn't feel some of his toes. He had a few stitches and a concussion.
But he stood as a champion, with the gold of the NEW North American Championship around his waist.

"This man is facing the consequences of his actions. He needs be punished no more."


The champion made his way inside with a confident, tall stance. All eyes were on his face, on the long, glorious beard, or the gleaming gold around his waist.

Something was different about him, and Denia noticed it right away. It was in the way that he walked. The way that he moved. The tone of his voice. The way his eyes looked at her, at anyone. He looked accomplished, fulfilled, like be belonged...
And although she was angry, she couldn't help but slyly smile, having known how important it was for him to feel like he belonged, and to have finally shattered that obstacle.

Wildebeest stopped in front of the cage. The security team moved out of his way, as if they were waves of blood he was Moses himself. Denia looked up at her man and tried to hide the blush on either side of her smile. Meanwhile, the new champion looked into the cage.
At the man who'd tried to take what was his. The man who'd threatened to end Wildebeest's igniting legacy early.

The room smelled of cheap coffee and misty air-freshener. And Drew tried to return Wildebeest' look. But he always struggled with eye-contact. He'd maintain for a second or two, then his eyes would dart in a different direction, only to refocus again.

It didn't take long for Wildebeest to notice the obvious: he was different.

Wildebeest's eyes squinted as he began to consider the changes: Days earlier, his eyes were wild and distant at the same time. As if they were someplace that he wasn't. Or as if he was forcing them to look somewhere he didn't really want to view. Now, they're ... normal.
Sad. Unconfident.

Days earlier, he talked. His voice was clear and loud, although at times it felt as if he didn't normally talk in such a way. Now, he was quiet. Time had passed, and he hadn't said a word to the man he'd threatened to kill days earlier. No "I'm sorry." No "It was a mistake." No "You should be dead." Not even a "And I would've gotten away with it too, if it weren't for those meddling kids."
Nothing.

He was aggressive. Assertive. Confident, in a weird way.
Now he wasn't any of the above. He just sat there, hunched over in his bed, eyes on the floor, with nothing to say at all. As if he was a completely different person.

So Beast wondered about what was going on. Until curiosity got the best of him and he had to speak.

"You."
he declared, instantly obtaining the attention of all. "Wildebeest wonders..." he ran a hand over his beard. "What is wrong?"

Drew had looked up for a bit but found himself look away again very quickly.

"Uh..." Drew assumed this was the man that he pointed a gun at. And it was the strangest thing. He was such a unique individual, what with the long beard, weird facial expressions, loud booming voice, and yet, Drew could've swore that he'd never saw him before in his life.

"Well..." he tried to look into Wildebeest's dark, brown eyes. "It's so strange. I'm just really, really confused right now." and then he looked away again.

"Why?"


"They..." he pointed at the two security guards. "...claim that I uh... that I tried to rob a man, that I pointed a gun at someone..."

"You DID point a gun at someone, idiot! You pointed a gun at my man!"
Denia rattled his cage again. This time, however, Wildebeest pulled her back, muttering that that was "enough" and holding her tight.
Then he looked down at her with convincing eyes. Eyes that told her, despite what had happened, everything was okay now, and it was time to move on.

"But I just don't remember doing it..."

Then his eyes returned to Drew. And Drew looked even sadder than before. Clearly, he took the accusations hard. But Wildebeest couldn't imagine how he couldn't remember the mistake that he'd made. It'd only been a few days ago.
And threatening another's life was not something that was so forgettable.

"You do not remember that day?"


Drew shook his head, and sighed a apology.

"You do not remember playing poker with Wildebeest?"


Again, Drew shook his head. This time, his head dipped, and he looked at his hard, concrete floor.

"I don't even know how to play poker..."

Wildebeest couldn't help but think that that was probably why he won so much that day. While normally this kind of revelation would sadden him, all he had to do was glance down at the gold around his waist to remember to smile.

"You do not remember taking out your gun? Pointing it at Wildebeest? Demanding chips?"


Drew slowly glanced up, shaking his head.

"No. I don't. None of it. The last time I remember before waking up in this cell, was quitting work last week. Everything else is blank..."

Wildebeest titled his head slightly, as he looked for signs of deceit. "hm..." But he couldn't find a single one. This was a mighty strange tale. A man who'd threatened another and couldn't even remember it.

Wildebeest wondered what the Judges of the Bell would say about this event. The Book of Wrestling spoke of them kindly, stating that they were fair, that they cared about making things right, and that they considered decision heavily or lightly, all depending on the situation and the circumstances.

For this particular situation and circumstance, Wildebeest could only think of one thing...

"Well..."
he turned and faced Randy, the head of security. "Wildebeest respectably asks that you let this man go."

Everyone in the room but Wildebeest seemed to express confusion verbally all at once.
Afterwards, there was ramblings.

"Enough!"


Everyone shut up and looked at the man with the gold around his waist.

"The Wildebeest commands that he be let go!
The Book of Wrestling states that all men are to be treated fairly, inside and outside of the ring. For Wildebeest to condemn this man with a sentence of punishment without him having any memory of what he had did is not fair or right. The Wildebeest will not allow it."


"But Beast!"


She'd pushed away from him upon his announcement, but he held a hand out to negate her protest.

"The facts are as followed: The Wildebeest is the new North American Champion. The Book of Wrestling promised all of those who follow it a spot in the history books, in the realm of memories, and Wildebeest has achieved his piece of legacy by slaying three of the toughest opponents he's ever faced. But this is not the beginning or the end. Just a chapter in a story. A story that will tell the tale of a fair man. Of a righteous man. Of a man who's bared the pains of defeat and bathed in the glories of victory throughout his career, with much bigger and much better things awaiting on the other side of the mountain."


Wildebeest reach out his hand. Denia took it. And he pulled her back into an embrace.

"Oh yes."
he chuckled. "It will be a tough climb. IT HAS BEEN A TOUGH CLIMB. But it's a climb that Wildebeest is prepared to make. A climb that the Book of Wrestling assured him was accomplishable. And through the toughest men, the biggest men, and the baddest men, Wildebeest will storm through any fires or storms in his way to reaching that very top, and living eternally in the glories beyond its peak.
As will this man! On this day, he will see, through example, what the Book of Wrestling can accomplish, and will go on to become someone great."


Everyone was quiet as Wildebeest walked over, took the key off of the captain of security, and opened up Drew's cell.

"This man will play no part in Wildebeest's destiny. He will walk the streets freely, having been touched by the shining influence of the Book of Wrestling. And he may or may not come to remember the crime that he committed. Only time will tell.
However, he will remember the kindness shown on this day."


Drew exited his cell. The security team didn't throw him back in and the girl by the tall man didn't attack him so he blinked away the unbelievable and nodded his head.

"Tha. Thank you." he muttered, glancing up at Wildebeest.

"Go."
Wildebeest placed a hand on his shoulder. "And Lord of the Lights be with you."
---

"Are you sure about this?"
Denia didn't seem happy, at all, as she opened the passenger side door and climbed inside.

"Wildebeest is always sure of his decisions."
he was apparently sure, as he turned on his engine.

"Yeah... well... I wish I could be so positive."


Wildebeest chuckled.

"You are."


Denia looked at him, confused.

"Without you, this would have never happened."
he gestured at his newly won championship. "Wildebeest would be no different than that boy. Desperate. Alone. Your positive saved Wildebeest. And hopefully Wildebeest's positive saved that boy."

It took a moment, but she smiled, and when she did, it was as beautiful as the moon and stars behind her.

Edited by The Beast, Oct 28 2012, 02:08 PM.
Posted Image
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
ZetaBoards - Free Forum Hosting
Enjoy forums? Start your own community for free.
Learn More · Register Now
« Previous Topic · NEWtv 53 · Next Topic »
Add Reply