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Cleansing Fire and the Truth it Brings; Mordrad's final words before Summerfest
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Topic Started: Jul 11 2017, 10:47 AM (89 Views)
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KingsMan
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Jul 11 2017, 10:47 AM
Post #1
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Amateur
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A clear empty moonless night opens up on the screen. The only light that comes from a low fire burning in the darkness; its embers flickering and rolling. Hunched over this fire is Kevin Mordrad . He is dressed in thick bomber’s coat and faded fatigues. Not too far off in the distance, a small crudely keep shack can be seen. As the barely togethers teepeed logs of the fire crumble down, the masked marauder speaks.
Life, and all it trappings, is about the choice we make. Day in, day out, we are tasked with a million little trinkets of choice. A million little divergent roadways. On their own they seem insignificant; meaningless. Bound together...they are our everything; our foundation for being. Which begs the question: what choices have brought you and me together for our faithful date at Summerfest? What bundle of decisions had to be made get us to that point, hhmmmm?
Mordrad stands, the light of the fire fading as he does. Now just the his cold eyes seems to catch the light, the rest of him seemingly bathed in shadowy embrace of the darkened woods.
My path is easy to track. Single parent household, bad egg attitude, the option to either be a prisoner or a private, two tours of service, three charges of inappropriate conduct ending in a court martial and dishonorable discharge, listless boredom followed by a spark of inspiration. I carried a banner of conquest and glory for a bronze and oiled up fool of kings, held his lands in his stead’ building my own little kingdom in the process. Then of course I had to challenge and go against someone that I say as a pretender to my calling; a painted up assemblage of noise and borish moods that was Satan one day and the Savior the next. Sufficed to say, I have had one hell of a ride to this point.
Leaning to his side, Mordrad grabs a thick hunk of wood, dropping it into the center of the embers. Surprisingly, the wood seems to blaze right up, filling the huddled round of trees with an orangish light.
The question remain Drive; what brought you here. What made you decide to stand across from me in a week and put your livelihood on the line just so you could get a piece of me and that hunk of metal that I hold? From my reckoning, to track your path one would need to be quite the skilled cartographer. You have had more twists and turns, starts and stops, ending and beginnings that near any man I have seen before. Always hustling, always harping about yourself; both traits of the Drive family credo from what I have seen and heard. A family of fools and failures all festering together in a cesspool of senseless self promotion. Pityful.
Mordrad looks intently forwards, hoping to lock eyes with his foe to soon be, Owen Drive.
You say you hate me Owen. That I am some kind of boogie man for you to slay. You say you fight for your family’s honor, for the people of the PRW. I find that hard to believe. You know, I know and anyone that has lick of sense knows that the only thing you fight for is fame. You would and. if the records are right, have trade anything to get your name in lights for a little while longer. Hell you are willing to trade your career just so you can get another shot at me. That my friend shows some obsession and obstinate behavior I might be so bold to say.
A cruel grin stretching across his lips, Kevin continues.
And as for your “hate” of me? That is all just puffery and sleight of hand on your part. You do not hate me, Drive. You may not like me. A great deal of people may not like me but your hatred for me is just a mask for what is the truth. You see, you cannot truly hate something you do not know. Real hatred is personal and ugly. Real hatred can only be festered over a long period of time. As such, you and I lack that familiarity, the time needed to brew so potent of brew as hatred. You know what though? I can think of a fine example of where your hate is coming from. The man you really hate. He is someone both of us know quite well, you honestly more than me. Jesse Drive, the eldest of the Drive boys and your better in every stripe and strip of the word.
Hands clasped together, Mordrad breaks into a his throne on Drive’s obsessive hatred.
You hate that once again Jesse gets all the shine when you are the one that has never done a single thing wrong. You always worked harder, been the dependable one yet he is the one that gets all the chances. You have to train and struggle to get crumbs while he just seems to luck out and gets the feasts. You hate your brother but cannot act on it. It is not what a superficial, two toned, vapid whelp like you would do. You have an image to uphold, a brand to shill.
Mordrad is almost laughing at this point, a sense of macabre mirth filling his voice
That is the root of this all. You are not wrestler. You are not a warrior. You are a product. A walking infomercial for hair gel, white stripes, bronzing cream and ab machines. A corporate stooge that would not dare make waves lest you get keelhauled. You make PRW look shiny, your brother gets to hold the shiny prizes. You get the glitz and glamor, your brother gets the play the game and be great. The PRW grinds the organ, you dance your little fez for the coins and the whole place benefits from the shine of your face.
With a chuckle, Mordrad shift his gaze for a moment, gathering his thoughts before he continues.
So poster boy, come Summerfest when they lock you in that cage with me and I cave your face in with my boot, what are you going to do? At Summerfest, when you are stuck in front of me with no place to go or chance for reprieve, who is going to save you from me ? Your pretty face and locks will not stem the tide of bloodshed I plan on visiting on you. Your record deals, merchandise checks and glamour shots cannot shield you from pure and pitiless destruction my hands. I am going rip limb from limb, leaving a little neat pile of carriage fit for a headstone, light the pyre of your career’s funeral and then piss the ashes. And you know why I am going to do all that nasty stuff to you? Hhmmm?
In a surprisingly fast manner, the fire in front Mordrad is starting to burn down; leaving just the smallest of flicker flames and healing embers again.
It is not because I hate you. It is not because I have got something to prove. No I am going to do those things and more to you at Summerfest because that is just what I do. I attack. I destroy. I decimate. I conquer. I do not think about it. I do not dwell upon it. I just do. I am like fire. I engulf what needs and can be destroyed and leave nothing but ashes and dust behind. I am the last and greatest equalizer. I free the world of its worthlessness so that new and better things may come. Come Summerfest, I am going to burn you from the record of PRW. I cleanse this place of you so that it can be free to grow anew, for we are just dust and ash giving form and dust and ash we will shall all return. You have just chosen to speed you the process in your case. Ta-ta Drive. See you soon.
Mordrad walks away, leaving the fire to alone as it quickly dies down into nothing but ashes and dust.
Edited by KingsMan, Jul 11 2017, 10:48 AM.
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HARKERN TO MY RECKONING!
Former: 1 x Internet Champion, Current: Undisputed Champion
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