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A Monster Interview
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Topic Started: Jun 1 2018, 01:37 AM (91 Views)
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KingsMan
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Jun 1 2018, 01:37 AM
Post #1
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Amateur
- Posts:
- 260
- Group:
- Superstars
- Member
- #2,131
- Joined:
- October 11, 2016
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Pre-Interview
Outside of a hashly set up interview room ; Kevin Mordrad is dressed in black and green striped long sleeve with matching pants; an uncommon look for him. On his face is menacing yet regal looking half mask; shaded in the same black and green color scheme. Sitting tightly around his waist is the Undisputed title; a prize he has yet to defend but has seemingly tightly grasp on to by sheer fear alone. Standing before him is Scar Shadow and Maxwell Alexander ; one his constant shadow and the other his ever willing and hungry attack dog.
I am about to step in there and do one of my obligated interview I have to do because of this hunk of metal on my waist. I expect you two to stand out here, quietly, and not make this take longer than it needs to be. By the way; where is Eddie? He was not present when I arrived tonight and that…. angers me.
He out of commission. That clot of his travelled a little too far a little too fast and he in the hospital for now? Didn’t you get the memo..sir?
No...I had not got the “memo” Alexander. Eddie handles the memo so obviously *hard stare flowed by the stiff slap to the head*... I did get the message, though I hope mine is clear. No disturbance, no funny business, in and out so we can get home and down with this drivel.
Noticeable frustrated, Mordrad scowls as he opens the door and walks in; leaving Scar to picks up the dazed Maxwell for their posted spots outside the door.
Inside the Interview Room
Inside the room, Stacy Cornbread is sitting uneasily. She has always hated working with Mordrad. The man made her skin crawl. His smell, a sickeningly mixture of smokey leather and coppery mud, made her relech a little every time she smelt it. His voice was like a soothing lubbly with undertones of slow dragging sound of beastly claw against a child’s window. Worst of all was his smile. A gruesome and vile as he could be; Mordrad’s teeth were present white and shiny; his canines seemingly shaper than a man’s should be; white pearls of bright light sat in front of what could very likely be the depths of hell themselves.
Yet, she was a professional and never backed down from a challenge or smirked her duties. She reported news and held interviews of the most important nature and tonight was no different. With a soft and slightly shaky waving of her hand, she invites Mordrad to sit down. With the same softness and hint of shake; she beckons for the camera to begin rolling.
Welcome to PRW Tonight. This Stacy Cornbread and I am here with the Undisputed champion, Kevin Mordrad. How are you tonight sir?
I am well Stacy but if you would be so kind, keep the formalities short and keep this talk of our short.
Mordrad’s words roll out with a growled stiffness. He intent was clear. In and out. No pleasantries or niceties. Just business and pure obligated words. Nothing else.
Composing herself, Stacy begins.
A great deal of people were surprised by your entrance as #30 in SuperBattle. Even more were surprised when you seemingly helped out a man many see as your greatest ideological rival to date: Jack Rider. What are your thoughts on that?
I make admittance to even ponder what my actions at SuperBattle could have meant or been interpreted. My entry was mine by right of conquest. It is my title and the allowance to stand in my presence that was on the line and thus it was my right to see firsthand if anyone was worthy. As my “alliance” with Rider despite him being...how did you say it…”my greatest ideological rival”; one is not of anyone but mine concern and the other cannot be farther from the truth. Rider is just an amusement of mine. When it comes to rival the Drives were much greater thorns. On that matter it has come to my attention that both dear Jesse and his foppish brother Owen are set to battle at Summerfest for a contract in PRW? Lest it be mistaken one of them, Owens, should not be allowed to enter the same ring that I might enter as per an agreement of my victory over him at the same event last year? Is PRW management in the business of welching on their stipulated and contract promises? If so...they should expect my company soon to “solve” the matter. As for Jesse...he even softer than when I broke him apart last year. Neither deserve to breath the same air I do much less share the same ring. A wasted time slot on what could be a great card.
Ok...well I’m sure many might disagree with you but…
I am not here to gain the favor of those that be. I am here to break apart those that stand before me and tear down that what is. Simply and directly, PRW and all it has is mine by conquest and mine by sheer domination.
You have demonstrated that is a number of very violent and bloody fight over the last year and half. Speaking of people that stand before you, the winner at SuperBattle was Reagan Crowe. What do you think of her now insurmountable undefeated streak as well as her claims that she holds no fear of you?
Mordrad’s shale grey eyes, set deeply behind his mask, flash to life at the mention of Crowe.
Ms. Crowe has surrounded herself with quite a great deal of mysticism and marvel but I have some bad news for her: I am not impressed or cowered by her, her streak, or her claims of bravery in the looming face of me. Does the ant fear typhoon? The tree the thunderstorm? The peaceful town in the path of the looming mountain that is secretly an spire of fire and molten earth waiting to burst forth and incinerate it? She does not fear me because she does not know better. Come Summerfest though I will teach her of her folly. I will show her...tutor her, in the finer point of fear. She may be a beauty with a bent mind but I...I am a beast with only one desire: carnage on a grand scale. She will be broken. She will be taught the error of her ways. She will be shown what it means...to fear. Your days of boastful bliss are coming to an end Ms. Crowne. The blood red moon has risen and come Summerfest; IT...WILL...DEVOUR… YOU .
Stacy shifts uneasily in her chair but surprisingly keeps it together. Composing herself, she goes to speak but her words are muffled by the sudden crashe and series of loud noise; coming from right outside the door.
TBC: He who seeks payback
Edited by KingsMan, Jun 1 2018, 01:39 AM.
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HARKERN TO MY RECKONING!
Former: 1 x Internet Champion, Current: Undisputed Champion
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Barbed Wire
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Jun 1 2018, 01:18 PM
Post #2
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It's time to take PRW to a place darker still...
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Edit: Oops, wrong account.
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Paladin
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Jun 1 2018, 01:19 PM
Post #3
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Paladins never forget.
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- July 2, 2017
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Paladin's bike pulled up to the arena. Tonight, he had chosen to wear all black. He was not proud of what he was planning to do, but he was going to go through with them nonetheless. This was not a job for a White Knight. It was a job for a Black Knight; one who was not afraid of getting bloodstains on his armor. He parked his bike near the production trucks before dismounting, keeping his helmet over his head.
Rider approached the backstage entrance only for a familiar voice to greet him. Looking up, he saw Wire crouched on one of the production trucks, leering down at him with a smile on her face. Wire had always been a dangerous competitor, capable of tying her opponents in knots with ease. But now, she had a spark of insanity in her eyes that made looking at her unsettling, even for someone like Rider. The Black Knight stopped himself, turning around.
"What do you want Wire?" Rider asked, his voice somewhat muffled by the helmet. "What do I want?" Wire said, laughing to herself. Her voice was shrill. "I'll be honest...I barely know myself anymore. I use to think that maybe if I was violent enough in my matches, even PRW would be forced to ban hardcore matches. You know...continue working towards your goal. But..." Wire grinned. "I don't think I want that anymore. Right now, I just enjoy the carnage, and want to see where it goes. More than anything else...I want to see what Owen's blood tastes like." "You're crazy." Paladin said with a disappointed sigh. "Probably have been for awhile."
"Probably." Wire said with a shrug. "But, I'll admit, it's felt good to indulge. And how about yourself Rider? You're dressed differently this evening. What's going through your mind?" "Right now...revenge." Rider said. "...Mordrad crossed a line." "Oh...now that sounds fun." Wire, leaning forward so that her head was hanging off the side of the truck. "I've always wanted to see what would happen when you stopped holding back. I have a gift for you." Wire pulled her head back and reappeared with her signature baseball bat in her hands. "Here. Take it."
Rider shook his head. "I don't need-" "It's not about need. It's about what you want. And I think..." Wire smirked. "That right now you want to break some bones. Consider this my final action as a Black Knight. The next time we meet...we'll most likely be enemies Rider. You can't try to save PRW without destroying me." "...Wire-" But when Rider looked up, his former partner was gone. He peered down at the baseball bat, thoughts racing through his head. Thoughts so violent that he surprised even himself.
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Paladin made his way down the halls of the arena with a baseball bat in his hands. He had not bothered to remove his helmet, feeling that it could come in handy for what was to come. His eyes were locked in front of him. Everyone he came by stuck to the walls, giving the armed and dangerous Rider a wide berth. A few ran to go get security or the general manager. Rider wasn't concerned though; he would be done long before they arrived.
Paladin checked his phone. Sure enough, Mordrad's interview was still being broadcast on the PRW network. The monster would be easy to find. Sure enough, as he turned the corner, he spotted Scar and Maxwell standing on opposite sides of the doorway. They turned to him in surprise, not showing any fear...just curiosity. Rider held the baseball bat behind his back, keeping it out of their sight.
"What the hell..." Scar said, his hand reaching out to knock on the door when Maxwell reached out and stopped him. "Relax. He's alone. We take him out, Mordrad will be sure to reward us-" Maxwell whispered.
Before Maxwell could say another word, Paladin suddenly charged forward, his boot colliding with the other man's skull. With nowhere for his head to bounce other than the wall behind him, a loud crack was heard before he began to slump to the floor.
"Since when did you use-" Scar began, before the baseball bat smacked him across the chest, knocking the wind out of him. The wire instantly drew blood. Screaming in rage and confusion, Scar lunged forward, only to be met by an elbow from Paladin's free arm. Falling forward, an axe kick to the back of the head sent Mordrad's second minion crashing to the floor.
A woman who had witnessed the exchange ran down the hall screaming. Paladin, meanwhile, turned Scar around so he could look Paladin in the face. "Listen to me right now you little punk. Before, this fight was between Mordrad and I. But you...you went and crossed a line."
Scar looked up at him with an insane look in his eyes. A terrifying mixture of fear and...excitement in his eyes. Despite the pain, he was enjoying himself. "Finally...the White Knight isn't afraid to get a little dirt on his armor." "..." Paladin looked down at Scar, grimacing as he thought about what he could do to him. What he wanted to do....but, he refused to stoop to Wire's level. He pulled back.
"Grab your friend and leave. My business is with the puppetmaster." Scar stood up, going over to check on Maxwell. His partner was knocked out cold. "...Didn't think you had it in you Rider." Scar said. Paladin was quickly beginning to regret showing mercy. "At least now I know who you got it from. That pastor was a tough son of a bitch. Still...even he had his breaking point."
Scar turned to Rider and grinned. "You should have seen him. I could hear him praying for mercy the entire time. But...the hilarious thing is, nobody came. Even at his time of need, his so-called God didn't give a rat's-" Paladin's bat collided with Scar's face, crushing his nose instantly and sending blood spraying across the wall. Paladin gripped the bat in both hands. He had heard enough.
The next target was his kneecaps. Paladin brought his bat down repeatedly on Scar's knees until he could hear the bones shatter underneat. Scar screeched in pain, clutching his legs before another shot to the face knocked him out cold. Breathing heavily, Paladin was not satisfied. He turned to Maxwell and began to smack his shoulders with his bat. But...no matter how much he did. It wasn't enough. With the body of Maxwell splayed out before him, Paladin got down on his knees and pulled the man's head up...before headbutting him with his helmet. He had hit him so hard that a crack instantly formed in his visor.
The occupants of the room heard the final hit. The room they were sitting in was soundproof to protect audio quality, but even they couldn't miss the sound Maxwell's body made at it fell against the door.
Paladin walked inside. He had a baseball bat in his hands covered in blood and a crack running down his visor. But, otherwise, there were no signs of his recent scuffle. Stacy stood up in shock, her camera man filming everything as Rider joined the interview. He sat across from Mordrad.
"...If I were you Mordrad, I'd think a little less about Ms. Crowe and more about yourself." Rider said, pulling his helmet off so he could look Mordrad in the eyes. The rest of the room had fallen silent. "This fight is between you and me. Everyone else...they're just a distraction. So, I'll keep things short and simple."
"I want you at Summerfest in the only match that I think can satisfy both of us." Rider leaned in close. "Hell in a cell."
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Credit to Regan Crowe for the Awesome Signature
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KingsMan
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Jun 10 2018, 10:34 AM
Post #4
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Amateur
- Posts:
- 260
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- Superstars
- Member
- #2,131
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- October 11, 2016
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Mordrad sits amused in the chair. He knew he was driving Rider crazy but this level of barbary; it was simply...intoxicating. He saw smeared all over Rider and smelt the blood that was already soaking into his clothes. From inside the room, with keen killer instinct, he could hear the wallows of pain from damaged Scar and the sickly bubbles of blood wetted breathing coming from broken Maxwell.
Am I am glad you could join us Mr.Rider. We do have some business to discuss, do we not? Though I believe etiquette would have dictated that simple phone call would have surfaced. From the look and sound of it, you have gone and made a mess. Tsk..tsk..tsk...is that anyway to behave?
Mordrad lets out a ruckus peel of laughter, which in turns spark Paladin to leap at him over the table that separates the two.. He never makes it to Mordrad. Seemingly out of the shadow, a figure lunges and catches Rider by the head and drops him mid lunge into table he was lunging over with a wood shattering cutter.
The figure stand up and as the camera zooms the figure's face can be seen and it a gruny and sinsterly grinning woman. She stand slowly and looks at Mordrad then down at Rider’s crack helmet then back at Mordrad; whom in turn gives her a nod. Like a some kind of hellcat she leaps and grabs the helmet and in an instant has mounted Jack’s back and is swing heavy two hand clutched blows with the helmet into his shoulders,neck and head.
Mordrad clears his throat and she stops as quickly as she began; dropping the now piecemeld “safety” equipment and standing by his side. He flicks his head and gives her instruction to go help gather up what Rider left of Scar and Maxwell and bring them to the car. He then crouched down and lifts Paladin’s now bloody face to his and speaks.
That is the problem with you Jackie. You are not only predictable but your oft blinded to the truth of things. Strike at me as you like you will never be able to truly hurt me. Roar and rouse your darkest feelings; I will always stand over you superior. And that is why, despite the pleasure it give me, I must decline your offer to paint yet another piece of ground with your blood at Summerfest. Beside, Crowe has a date with destiny on that night and I could hardly take that away from her. Night night Jackie.
At that goodbye, Mordrad grab the helmet and puts it under Paladin’s head. What comes next is quite gruesome. With a heavy swinging back of his body; Mordrad lifts and drops a boot into the back of Rider’s head; finishing off the job Rider had begun and Morgain has continued; breaking the helmet into a pile of plastic shard; Rider’s head amongst it all. Then as if he had little care of his action; Mordrad straighten his tie and walks out, the scene of the crime left in his wake.
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HARKERN TO MY RECKONING!
Former: 1 x Internet Champion, Current: Undisputed Champion
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