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Blood Fuels the Flame; vs. Priest (03/10/13)
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Topic Started: Mar 5 2013, 02:30 AM (73 Views)
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Eric Donavan
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Mar 5 2013, 02:30 AM
Post #1
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- Posts:
- 346
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- July 24, 2012
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"The secret of success is learning how to use pain and pleasure instead of having pain and pleasure use you. If you do that, you're in control of your life. If you don't, life controls you.” – Tony Robbins
SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 24TH, 2013, 10:13PM STAPLES CENTER LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
The aftermath of the obscenely brutal main event match of Evolution 4.0 between Eric Donavan and retaining World Heavyweight Champion James Stall has left the Irish Dragon hearing something he’s not heard in a long time: boos. The good, if hard-to-please, fans in the City of Angels were looking forward to a definitive finish but in the end only experienced a double-countout. Eric, on his knees with an arm on the ring apron, is drenched with sweat and breathing heavily. Almost every other breath sees him coughing harshly, and roughly half of those end with a spray of viscous red liquid splattering on the mats at Eric’s feet. He wipes the back of a taped hand over his lips and stares at the splotches of red and mucus…
…and he smiles.
”Bastard broke something…maybe a lot of things…heh…but I’m still fuckin’ standing. Yeah…what do you think about that you loudmouthed sonofabitch?”
Eric’s thoughts are like a whisper over the angry storm of vitriol from the packed Staples Center, but still capable of being heard. The mention of something breaking has his hand going to his midsection before another torrent of harsh coughing sends more crimson fluid issuing past his lips, some sliding down his chin. He wipes it off impatiently, using his hand to push himself to his feet via the apron…and stumbling as the pain hits him.
”Shit…something’s scraping in there…where’s…oh, there she is…”
He looks toward Aurelei who is starting to come around the ring to him, worry etched on her smooth features. Eric’s attention moves toward James Stall, still laid out amongst the rubble of the announce table with EMTs rushing his way to see about the champion’s physical state. The Irish Dragon smirks darkly, seeming to be entertaining the idea of going over and laying a few more shots in on the Ayatollah of Aggression…but he relents.
”No…ain’t stooping to his level. Let him suffer knowing what I did to him. Fuck, that hurts…”
He has to keep a hand on the apron to steady himself, his steps slow as he starts to walk around to meet his wife…but then in a flash of white light she’s gone. Eric stops in his tracks, confused.
”What in…?”
The strange phenomena continues to expand across Eric’s immediate location. The fans’ motions slow to a near-stop, their roar continuing as echoes before dwindling to uncomfortable silence. The EMTs tending to Stall and another previously-unseen pair making a beeline for him all stop in their tracks before vanishing in further blasts of harsh light. Stall’s form follows suit, as due the forms of Mac and Sam. When the fans follow suit, the light lingers and Eric finds himself…somewhere else entirely.
His hand rests not on a ring apron but an ivory-colored fence surrounding a patch of lush grass and flowers of white and red, in the middle of which rests a statue of Mary, the Queen of the Angels. When Eric turns his nearly-black eyes upon the impeccable marble visage, he pauses for a moment. Recognition seems to be fighting to manifest in his mind but he shakes it off when the memory he seeks doesn’t come. Seeing on the other side of the small garden a set of white steps leading up into a bright light, he starts to make his way around with his hand on the fencing, his breathing a little easier now. A he reaches the steps, his arms extend to his sides and he seems to be…floating…which is obviously a bit of a shock to him.
”Whoa…okay…ghostly escalator…got it.”
He tries to laugh it off but nerves keep the mirth shaky. The higher he goes, the clearer the sky becomes through the unseen source of light. Pinks and oranges lay beneath the blue and the slowly-moving clouds that are passing overhead opposite the direction of Eric’s motion. When he arrives at the top of the steps, he’s set down again with his arms lowering and though he wobbles his footing is maintained. Pillars line the path which seems to be floating in the air. Tentative steps forward are taken, a hand put over his eyes to shield him from the light…allowing him to spot someone up ahead, dressed in black in the form of a leather duster. Steps are slow but intent, taking Eric forward. The sounds of the footfalls eventually cause the form to turn its head, revealing itself as Snake. This stops Eric in his tracks again, leaving it to his late brother to turn and walk forward.
Snake “About time you got here. Have a seat.”
The bench, made of white stone and in the shape of an old-style garden bench, is right in front of the Irish Dragon. Gratefully he eases onto it and sits upright with some effort. Snake sits on it as well, but facing in the opposite direction. The brothers are silent for a few moments before Snake breaks that silence.
Snake “…well?”
Eric Donavan “Well what?”
The black-clad Entity stares at Eric for a moment, then busts out in dark laughter. Dark…yet content…which makes for a damned odd mix.
Snake “I was expecting you to unleash apologies about what happened, swearing vengeance in my name and telling me how you’re going to make them suffer. Or are you just sulking as a prelude to that?”
Eric sighs and shakes his head, lowering it.
Eric Donavan “What purpose would it serve? It wouldn’t bring you back.”
Snake “Very good.”
Eric Donavan “I want to do all those things…but I know I can’t afford the repercussions. It’s…done. All of it. Done. There’s nothing to do but make peace with what life has handed me and keep moving forward.”
Snake takes a breath and casts his eyes forward, staring at something in the distance. The view is such that we just see the profiles of the brothers as they sit, Eric in the foreground. Clouds roll past the pillars as they converse quietly.
Snake “Not sure if I’ve ever told you this before, brother…but I’m actually proud of you. You get it at last.”
Eric snorts and wipes the back of his hand across his mouth again.
Eric Donavan “But I AM sorry.”
Snake “Let me guess: the match, right?”
Light laughter escapes Eric as he turns Snake’s way.
Eric Donavan “The next time I saw you, so to speak, I wanted to have that title over my shoulder. You know…evidence of your motivation.”
Snake “Who says that what you did isn’t enough?”
Like ghosts of memories, images of where Eric was mere minutes go appear by Snake’s gesture. EMTs have still been checking on Stall and now they’ve got him revived and are checking him for injury. Looks like a backboard and stretcher are coming for him but whether or not he allows them to put him on such remains to be seen. Another wave of Snake’s hand caused the memory to evaporate as he grins.
Snake “You walked away. He’s being carried away. In your own words…for me, you destroy. Just like Challenger Series, just like Secret Santa 2…you did what you said you’d do. Fuck the title. Your time with it will come.”
Eric Donavan “Better fucking believe that. I’m not done with that bastard by a damn sight.”
Young Woman “That’s what we like to hear. Except for the language.”
Snake and Eric turn to see the young lady who had been a part of Eric’s visions up until recently step literally out of nothingness. Clad in a white gown, her bare feet making no noise on the smooth marble floor, she walks over to the brothers with her hands clasped before her and a gentle smile on her face.
Young Woman “You understand now?”
Eric looks to his brother for a moment, then back to the woman and nods.
Eric Donavan “Yeah. Where’s Serge, though? He usually rolls with you, doesn’t he?”
Young Woman “He’s at peace now. You’ll see him again eventually. But your time is running out here…”
The words prompt Eric to double over in pain, gasping as his hands go his ribs and another torrent of blood sprays past cough-parted lips. He growls in discomfort as the red splatters against the otherwise-pristine floor, wiping his mouth again.
Eric Donavan “Shit…sorry.”
Snake “Don’t sweat it. She’s right, though…you need to get back.”
Eric Donavan “Guess that means I’m not dead yet, huh?”
He laughs at his own stupid joke while the woman just rolls her eyes. Snake eyes him with a brow elevated then shakes his head.
Snake “Figured that out on your own, did ya?”
Eric Donavan “Bite me.”
Eric gets to his feet, waving off the woman’s attempt to help him more out of pride than anything else. Standing…hell, breathing…is painful to the Irish Dragon right now. And it seems to be getting worse by the moment. But he still poses a question.
Eric Donavan “So…what’s it like up here?”
Snake “Figured you’d ask.”
The view turns…and we can see what Snake saw, what his eyes were upon through most of the conversation. Eric turns that way and sees a woman resembling Aurelei but with a more mature, natural beauty to her. Before her is a young blonde, just into her teens, who has Snake’s eyes. Behind them, a well-dressed older man with salt-and-pepper hair, clothing hiding a powerful build ineffectively. They turn from Snake to Eric and each smile knowingly. The Irish Dragon’s brows go up for a moment, then he, too, smiles a little.
Eric Donavan “I see. That’s wonderful, brother. I’m glad to see that you’re with them again. But…”
He doesn’t want to ask the question. He doesn’t dare hope that powerfully. But Snake knows what’s on Eric’s mind and sets a heavy hand on his shoulder.
Snake “They’re here. But they don’t want to see you till it’s time, brother. Ordinarily I’d probably break a rule or two but…well, you know them better than me. You know how they’d react...and tell your wife something for me, Eric. Tell her to please don't blame me. I only did what I truly thought was right. It's always a lonely road...when you know you have to walk it alone.”
It’s a bit upsetting…this we can see on Eric’s face. But he nods and allows a smile out again.
Eric Donavan “Just knowing they’re here is enough. I just need to make sure I get here now…and I’ll tell her. I promise.”
Another bolt of pain drops him to his knees, only a hand on the stone bench keeping him from dropping. Snake moves to offer a hand but the woman gently waves him off, indicating that she will help. Snake nods and turns to go, heading towards the three forms in the distance. When he reaches them, the massive form of the man who had been both best friend and worst enemy turned and looked back at Eric alone on that bench. His eyes were soft and a strange peace seemed to be about him now.
Snake “...and brother? There are no more goodbyes.”
Eric, meanwhile, manages to get back onto the bench and turns, laying on his back, his breathing now raspy on top of all else thanks to the bleeding. Trying to hold on to what this was, what this meant, but it was already beginning to fade and waver like some kind of mist shifting in the wind.
Eric Donavan “Just…just need a moment…”
Young Woman “Take your time.”
The natural glow of this place intensifies again, as it had before the arena proper became such. Now all of it becomes as mist. The clouds cease their motion, the pillars, floor and rails evaporate…and soon there’s naught but Eric lying in mid-air. A final flash of blinding lamination causes the scene to evaporate, replacing it moments later with the trainers’ room of the Staples Center. Eric’s position has not changed as he is now upon one of the padded benches there, eyes closed. In the background, Aurelei and the head trainer are speaking, a scene we’ve experienced before more than once.
”Back…glad that he’s…he’s okay. With good people…people he needs…I miss him, but…for the best. Yes…my turn now…”
He stirs slightly, turning on the bench suddenly and almost going off the edge of it as he reaches for the small pail on the floor next to it. Eric snatches it up before he coughs up another spray of red. This was getting monotonous but at the very least it was lesser, weaker than the last time. Breathing hard, he looked about and reached for a bottle of water left on the table, gulping down a few mouthfuls before setting it down. His haste causes it to tip over and fall off the table, his attempts to snatch it before it falls causing him to drop the pail…and once again nearly sending him off the bench. Cursing, he presses down on the railing and stops himself from hitting the tile, forcing himself back onto the surface properly, staring at the ceiling as the trainer and Aurelei stare at him. His wife looks relieved and irritated at the same time while the trainer comes back over hesitantly, looking him over.
Trainer “Woke with a start there, huh? I’ll get the diagnosis faxed to the nearest hospital. Try not to fall, huh?”
Eric Donavan “…yeah…sure…”
Soon as the guy leaves, Eric is sitting up again after a bit of painful effort. He chuckles to himself, head shaking back and forth as Aurelei comes over and sits next to him, her hand on his leg.
Aurelei Donavan “You really shouldn't have tried to get back here on your own, hon. You dropped half-conscious once we got to the ramp. Woke up quick, but EMTs still had to help you up it and back here. Do you remember that at all?”
Eric Donavan “I’m not sure what I remember. I think I had some kind of vision at about the time I started heading for the ramp in the first place.”
An auburn brow elevates, a question in Aura’s blue eyes.
Aurelei Donavan “I hope that’s not because of those old concussions…”
Eric Donavan “I don’t think it is. I just needed…to settle something within myself. Let’s…”
Eric looks around at the room and for a moment he sees the young woman standing in the corner. Others mill about but to them she doesn’t exist. She merely smiles to Eric for a moment, then fades out of sight. He blinks, then refocuses on his wife.
Eric Donavan “…yeah, let’s get out of here. The hospital, then the hotel. I need time to think.”
It was one of those openings that Aurelei usually used to impress something important on her husband, but the look in his eyes stops her. She merely nods and puts his arm around her shoulder before he takes it down with a slow shake of his head. Getting up on his own, he turns her way with a gentle smile, one he barely manages.
Eric Donavan “I’ll meet you at the car. Can you get our things on your own?”
She nods in the affirmative, something about his manner, his gaze, prompting her not to argue for once in her life. Eric watches her go and then looks over his shoulder again at where the woman had stood. Nodding more to himself than anything else, he turns and leaves the trainers’ room as we fade to black.
FRIDAY, MARCH 1ST, 2013, 4:00PM COWBOYS STADIUM ARLINGTON, TEXAS
There’s quite a pack of people gathered both outside and within the stadium where the Texas favorites, the Dallas Cowboys, typically play their games. But they’re not here for football, nor are the news crews and the representatives from various wrestling companies, websites and dirt sheets. They’re gathered for the final press conference leading up to ViW’s Clash of the Titans pay-per-view, a nineteen-team tag tournament to determine the first-ever Visionary Tag Team Champions. The cameras give us a wide few of the throngs outside and in, giving us glimpses of some of the wrestlers as well, the grand majority of them signing autographs or conversing with the people sent to cover the event. We have to go a little further to find the Irish Dragon, who’s managed to find a quiet spot away from the masses. With him, of course, is Aurelei…but also his partner in The Dark Choir, Tombstone.
The big man is in trench and top hat, leaned against the wall with his arms folded. Alexis is at his side, relaxed as can be with her arms around one of his. Aurelei is pacing back and forth, also on the phone, but only Eric’s conversation is heard. He’s a few feet away from his massive German compatriot as he speaks, his tone even and calm. Almost a week away from his match with Stall, his motions are carefully controlled and his breaths still give him discomfort…but he’s powering through it even if the effort is blatantly obvious.
Eric Donavan “I think the bastard’s yanking my chain. He doesn’t like what I did to his favorite champion so he’s trying to rattle me by putting me up against a friend. What am I going to do? What can I do other than give the guy a stiff, clean match like he deserves. I’m not going to hold back on him because that’s disrespectful. No, I haven’t talked to him yet but Tombstone’s here with me…”
Hearing his name, the Butcher of Berlin looks up. Alexis also looks Eric’s way curiously. The Irish Dragon holds up a hand to note that he’ll be done in a moment and finishes the conversation.
Eric Donavan “No, don’t sweat it. He’s a smart enough guy to understand what has to be done. He’ll come at me the same way I’ll come at him and in the end…another match for the highlight reels. Right. Yeah, I’ll talk to you in a few days. See you.”
Dotting the ‘End’ key with his thumb, the suited Eric slides his phone into his jacket pocket and puts his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. Tombstone takes a step forward, Alexis releasing her grip as he does so. Eric turns his way.
Eric Donavan “Me and Robbie Priest on NEW TV 59. You believe that shit?”
Tombstone "In zis kompany? Ja..."
Eric Donavan "Probably right. Wonder how Priest's taking it, though..."
Eric allows himself to ponder that for a few moments before shaking it off and staring straight ahead at the empty thoroughfare, his tone dark.
Eric Donavan "Fuck am I saying? He'll be ready for me without question. He's a professional. A former World Heavyweight Champion. Worrying about his mindset is just wasting time."
Tombstone chuckles, nodding in agreement. He pats Eric on the shoulder, the tattooed teeth still curled up in a small smile.
Tombstone "Now you've got it. Don't vorry about Priest. Not about his mindset or even about his feelings. He knows better zhen anybody here about how things vork. Just focus on doing your best. You're going to have to."
Eric can't help but join in the calm laughter, nodding at his friend and partner's words. Tombstone's hand lowers and Eric walks over to the railing, looking toward the myriad rows of seats sitting empty...perhaps imagining them filled in a few days' time.
Eric Donavan "I'm looking forward to it just like I did when I faced Romeo and Bombtrack. Facing someone who I know can whip my ass if I'm not firing on all cylinders. Someone who's been to the top of the mountain where that louse Stall still sits. And because of who and what Priest is, I know that I'll get a great match out of him with minimal bullshit. You can't put a price on that."
He pauses for a moment, then continues.
Eric Donavan "And as for Stall? I know he'll be watching. And he'd damn well better be. For all his talk about being a tough bastard and fighting hurt...who was the one walking away from our match and who was the one left in the rubble? Once again, I did what I said I would do. The champion is a vulnerable man, wracked with the kind of pain that results in fucking with a dragon. He'd better pray that I don't see him Sunday night and that he has the good sense to stay out of my way next Sunday at NEW TV. Priest and I won't think twice about dropping down and turning him into a smear if he gets involved in our match. And if you and I run into him across the ring from us this Sunday night?"
Tombstone gives a barely audible grunt at the sound of Stall's name. Alexis' eyes also shoot over in their direction when she hears his name. Tombstone glances over at her, his eyes fixating on hers. After a moment passes, Eric turns away from the railing, looking back to his partner. Tombstone continues looking at Alexis, his lips slowly parting as he finally answers.
Tombstone "He von't be valking for a very long time..."
Looking very seriously at his partner, Eric states darkly...
Eric Donavan "And you can tell that would just break my fuckin' heart."
A twisted grin spreads on Eric's face before one of the organizers of the event comes in, looking for the Dark Choir. Aurelei has finished her call and has come up behind Eric, linking her arm with his as she comes to his side.
Organizer "Gentlemen? We'll be ready for you out there in two minutes."
Eric Donavan "Thanks."
Once the man leaves, the couples turn to one another.
Eric Donavan "One thing at a time. We deal with the people waiting to see us out here, then grab some dinner before filling the day with sparring tomorrow. Sunday night...we bust ass to take home some gold. Then, Priest gets my full attention. He has earned no less as a friend and respected opponent."
Tombstone "Zat ist good. Expect zee same from him. He thinks highly of you, Erik. Und I know he's going to be expecting the same Erik Donavan that went to a draw vif Stall. Except he von't allow his match to end in a draw."
Eric Donavan "Good. Because nothing is going to stop me from pushing back to the top and taking that title...not even a friend."
The two nod, their points made, and head toward the concourse with the ladies, where the fans' noise can already be heard. The moment they step through the curtains, murmurs turn to roars...and it is here that we cut to black for the last time.
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Eric Donavan's Wikia Page Twitter: @NEWIrishDragon
NEW Record: 28-11-2 All-Time Record: 73-24-6
1x NEWEra World Heavyweight Champion: 11/03/13-12/15/13
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