“Rise of the Leviathan”
Aug 17, 2019 15:03:24 GMT -5
via mobile
Spencer Adams, Dandy DiVito, and 4 more like this
Post by Wade Moor on Aug 17, 2019 15:03:24 GMT -5
The Home For Wayward Souls hallways echoed ethereal whispers. There was no pretense in this Mad House this week, only eyes peering at your from every gilded doorway, spindly fingers gripping each corner, haunting tunes etched into the walls. Creaks of a door were muted by booming footsteps upstairs, each stomp shook the floor with wrathful purpose.
w̛̺̹͍̘̼̣̩e̵̳̫̞͓̭̖̘͝l̸̝͔̗͜ć͔͎̠̬̰̹̪o̴̧̥͡m͝͏̖͇͡e҉͕͕͍̞̩͕̣͈ ̧͔͔͇̝̝̰͜h͝҉̮͓̮͚̳̯͕͉͜o͇͙͔̼͈͍̻̫͘m̢̬̫̪͈̲͍͞ȩ̸̢̘̗̠͖̻̣͕
Leviathan’s voice hissed creating a macabre mixture of sounds that raised gooseflesh and made your hair stand on end. The outline of his mask peeks out from down the hall, his eyes discernibly blacker than even the shadows engulfing him. That shark tooth grin spreads across his cheeks, pearly whites illuminating the dark, nearly blinding you in the process. He takes several steps forward and stares, head lopsided, honing in on your senses. His right fist is gripped around a black metal briefcase, it’s clasps fastened shut. Six runes - three on each side - emblazoned the case with one large one etched in the middle of the case.
The fabric of the world splits down the middle. Wade Moor and Tawny Layne stand against each other. Moor’s eyes are milky white as if his body were there but his soul had entered another separate outerverse. His mouth moved manically as he conversed in ancient languages of the sea. Tawny’s eyes grew wide as his tongue hissed and spat in rhythm.
“Welcome home, children. I’m glad to see so many of you at the same time, because there a few things I’d like to get off my barreling chest. Every now and then, a father must look upon his spawn and wonder if he really did everything he could for them. It’s an innermost reflection that most aren’t capable of, grace disguised as flaw. I remember taking you children to school, walking you up to those doors, your Wade Moor lunch pails clasped in your tiny, but mighty, hands. I really believed in my black heart that you would fill your father’s monstrously big shoes. Your FUTURE was so BRIGHT.”
Leviathan peeps you through those slits in his mask, those black moon discs staring holes through your head. He looks nonplussed. His mouth begins to seethe at the very thought of you.
“I look upon you now and feel nothing but utter disappointment. None of you - not a single damn one of you - have measured up. Now, it could be my fault for putting too much pressure on you, but a father can only do so much, and no matter how much of myself I was willing to give, you all still revile me. I’m disappointed, but not shocked. It’s a father’s cross to bear, my children. I took that proverbial step away from the ‘main event’ many months ago in hopes that one of you would RISE UP and cement your legacy. Such a shame that none of you are fit to lick my boots, let alone replace me at the top of the card.”
Leviathan smirks and giggles with glee.
“How do you think I found myself in this match, my children? Do you honestly believe in your infantile minds that I have to EARN my way into any match that I want to be in? The ceremonious destruction of Jakob Lister was just a formality, just as your entrance into the All-In ladder match is just a formality. Just as me taking the All In briefcase is a formality, just as me beating the holy fucking hell out of the World Champion is a formality. You see how this works now, children? Anything Leviathan wants, Leviathan takes. It’s cunning, calculated, methodical. For me, this is just another Sunday, but for the rest of you...”
Leviathan pops his chest, the crickety-crack of his spine bouncing off the empty halls.
“...it’s e̡͈̫̠v̕͏̦̩̣̜̙̖̺e̢̜̹̘͔̼̰̘̰̟͢r҉̣̣͈̤y̷̼͍͎̺̩̟̠̗̦͟t̢͘͏̱̩͇̫͖̯h̦͓̙͎̫̣̦͉̬̀͢í͓̭̯͠n̻͍͉̟̮͘g.”
Footsteps sounds upstairs as muted
“Where do I begin? Who will be the first of my children to feel their father’s wrath? Hawkins? Vayden? Stylez? No, I don’t think so. How about someone I consider an actual threat in this match. Someone who seems just desperate enough, just Mad enough to do whatever it takes to claim their guaranteed World Championship match.”
Leviathan points his whiplike finger and it’s stops on...you.
“Lissie Hope. It wasn’t that long ago you and your royal ilk were challenging a beaten, broken Quixote Della Torre to a match he had no business accepting. You saw the way he hobbled to the ring, how bruised his face was, how bandaged his ribs were. Yet, instead of showing humility in a downtrodden man’s most hopeless hour, you and your family decided a gangland beating was more apropos. You fancied yourself the most vicious, most vile group to ever step foot into the squared circle...but what does taking advantage of a most pitiful soul prove? All I could see was a coward that decided a four on one assault was more her style. You had the situation ‘well in hand’...”
Leviathan flips that pointed finger upside down and snatches his hand into a closed fist.
“...Until I showed up. You made your grand gesture, standing toe to toe with Leviathan for that single, glorious moment...”
He lifts the fist to his head and points at his skull.
“...because you knew that - in that moment - you would never have to fight me, and if you did? Then you would lose. It was smart. It made you look credible for a fraction of a second. All I needed to do to destroy that credibility was reach out, hook your arms, and dump you on your head in the middle of the ring. The rest of the Royal Family would have tucked tail because they have no intention of discovering what that feels like. I took pity on you then, but all roads always lead back to the Leviathan, and pity is the very last thing on my mind.
“What makes you think you’re ready for this Lissie? Because you’re hungry? You deserve it?! Get in the line with the rest of your mongrel brothers and sisters. If you get nothing from me, aside from a CTE scan, remember this: you haven’t done anything in Action Wrestling that I haven’t allowed. Every step you take is one made with a prayer cast under pressure. You feel it building up, overwhelming you. You know the statement you want to make, but like most who try to defeat the Leviathan, their actions become more paltry then their words. You’re no different than any of them, no matter how much you wish you were.”
Leviathan holds up the briefcase as one of the runes along the side alight in a pale blue light, casting a hypnotic gaze in his wide black eyes.
Wade’s lips still move frantically as the world around begins to rumble and warp. Blue orbs peer through a tear in the wall of the Mad World. Tawny grabs hold of his waist as eerie winds blow and take loose debris with them. A deafening boom is heard far off in the distance as Tawny’s eyes snap shut.
“Derrick Vayden, my forgotten son. A humble, but largely forgettable face in an era filled with thieves and bad guys. I look upon you with a sullen sense of pride because I know you will never amount to your full potential. This isn’t your time to shine, the All In match isn’t going to be your breakout moment...it’s going to be a master class in mass destruction and an eye opener of a beatdown. I’m going to show you why you should have stayed in the Cruiserweight division and made your mark there, instead of trying to compete with people you have absolutely no business being in the ring with.”
Leviathan twists his hands and his knuckles morbidly crack, reveling in his thoughts.
“You should have stayed put, Vayden. Know your role and stick to it. Stay trading the Cruiserweight Championship with Alexander Pasternak. Let the adoration of the fans drive you forward, because this road you’re choosing to go down? It only ends in heartbreak and disappointment. One after the other, they will begin to pile up. It begins with this All In match where you will fail spectacularly. This is an inevitable and unavoidable outcome. You’ll probably find yourself emboldened, willing to try again somewhere else, some other night. Then when you fail again, you’ll start to realize just how truly out of your league you actually are.”
Leviathan shakes his head to and fro, his body language melancholy.
“I...don’t want this for you. I don’t want you to hurt, my son. Please, I beg you Derrick, stay away. Stay safe from the miserable heartache that’s destined to plague you in any division beyond Cruiserweight. The thought of seeing you that way, the pain you’ll have to endure is almost too much for this father to bare...but bare it I will. I must remain strong in times of turmoil, a beacon of light, a pillar of strength. A monolith. Somebody that you can be p͕̘̙̙̀͟r͙̱o̷̻̭̲͍̘͚͕͠u͇͓͔d͏͖͕̳ of Derrick, because you have absolutely no chance of ascending the same peaks I have.”
Another tune upon the edge of the briefcase glows its ghostly blue hue.
The boom becomes a roar and Tawny’s mouth etches in a silent scream. Wade’s lips still move, a whisper, calm and collected. The roar splits the fabric of the world directly down the middle, right in front of them. A cavernous trench appears, misty blue orbs dancing wispfully around them.
“Teo Blaze, our resident Icarus, and my least bashful of children when it comes to displaying his narcissism and overwhelming greed. You wear a mean dark pair of shades, my son, but I can see right through you. I did raise you after all. Do you remember when I took you to see that statue of Paul Bunyan? I recall the memory very well. That was the day you fell in love with the concept of being ‘a hero’. You say all the right things, but actions speak louder than words, Teo. You’re no more a hero than I am. Your own self preservation and unending gold lust always comes before doing the right thing.”
Leviathan grins, shrugging his massive shoulders as he does.
“It really only becomes humorous when your accomplishments have yet to match your ego. For a man who lives and dies by the Championship belt, you’re ability to capture and hold on to them is severely lacking. I must admit, I was completely surprised when you won the World Championship in WCF. However, I wasn’t surprised that the doors shut the very next day. Flying too close to the sun is your modus operandi. Now you’re here in Action Wrestling, doomed to repeat the same mistakes you’ve made your entire career, including stepping into this match with me.”
He starts to rat-at-tat his clawed finger off the metallic briefcase.
“You’re not even in this match of your own volition. No qualifying match. No backstage pull. Just a simple fan vote. These people must actually have some deep seated malice aimed in your direction if they’re so willing to send you into the Leviathan’s midst. Your body will crumple across my knee. What’s left of your brains will be splattered across the ring canvas. Your concept of a hero will be dashed along with your hopes of being the next All In briefcase holder. Teo Blaze, it’s better to burn out than fade away, my son.”
The rune flashes bright red for a brief second. Leviathans face grows worried...until the red fans out and is replaced with that pale blue light.
The orbs collect harmoniously around the trench like opening, more and more appearing by the second. Wade continues to whisper, his eyes stare dead ahead at the cavern. Tawny shivers in fear of the unknown, urine soaks her pant leg as a deafening, monstrous roar bellows like a horn from the opening.
“Allison Preston, my daughter, my disgrace, you’re not quite the women I believed you would be. When I look at you, I still see that same little girl, twirling her baton in the backyard all day long. I wanted the entire
Leviathan shouts the last line, his chest heaving up and down, fraught with insanity and anger.
“But what I wanted to give you, I can take away just as easily. This match is over for you and it hasn’t even begun. When you - to my unequivocal excitement - made your Action Wrestling debut, everyone expected the most out of you...but you’ve done here what you’ve done everywhere else you’ve been in your career. You let them down. You let me down. And now? I’m going to let you down. I’m going to slam your head into the canvas so hard that - hopefully - I’m able to forget about an Allison Preston.”
Leviathan continues to heave, spit snarling through his shark teeth.
“That shouldn’t be hard to accomplish. In the grand scheme of things, you’re very forgettable. You’ve had months to pull ahead of your class of Action Wrestling greenhorns, but you’ve fallen so miserably behind that it’s time to put the lame horse down. Such a pitiful shame, Allison. My sweet Allison. Born with the world in your hands, but you’d rather get outclassed and outmatched by your brothers and sisters. One in particular...but first.”
A rune on the briefcase flickers, that light glowing almost instantaneously.
Tawny falls backwards, heavy wind whips around the duo, as something lurking in the cavern watches them from a distance. A thousand eyes glow in the dark, scoping them out, watching, waiting. Wade’s milky white eyes return to that pale shade of ocean blue. The thousand eyes in the distance narrow as it recognizes Wade.
“Your brother, Johnny Stylez...my son, a man out of time. Hey bud, got a minute? Come sit down next to your father so I can tell you just how disappointed I am in you. I shouldn’t be surprised that you turned out this way. I knew the minute I caught you stapling a Three Days Grace poster to your bedroom wall just what I was dealing with. It’s not that you haven’t accomplished anything in the ring. In fact, it makes me beam with pride just thinking about it. At least you inherited one thing from me. It’s just every time you open your mouth to talk, I just wish you would cut out your fucking tongue instead.”
Leviathan sticks his forked tongue through his shark teeth and makes a chopping gesture.
“Nothing you do or say has purpose. It’s almost as if you’re merely here in Action Wrestling to just exist. What is it that drives Johnny Stylez? I didn’t raise you this way, walking around, grabbing your cock every chance you get, spouting off nonsense to strangers on the internet. I know you have delusions of grandeur. Winning the All In match should be your moment, but you’re way too caught up in your own bullshit for anyone to even flirt with the idea of you winning. Your chances immediately plummet when my name appears next to you.”
His teeth clack closed, making sheering razor sounds as they scrape together.
“Here’s how Sunday’s going to go for you: you’ll tout the same old script for your promotional material, toddler talk with just a vague, surface level understanding of your opponents, ask me if I ‘got a minute?’ - I don’t, I used it to scrub my memory of you - and then act like nobody knows who Johnny Stylez is or what he’s all about...but I do, Johnny. I know all about men like you. I know what exactly makes you tick. I’m already under your skin. I’m under è͉͍̙̫̪͖͕̀͡v̵̘e̮̱̳͎̳͞͠r͚͕̭̣͈͜y̡͕͕̱͜o̡̤͎̭͔̭̝̺̣͘n̶҉̻̩͎e̢̳̮̙͇̳̲͜͡’̴̢̰̭̘́s̰̣̪͔͟ͅ ̢̛̥̠̞̭̝̤ͅs͞҉̫̱̻͓̯̞̣͍ͅk̰̰̙̤̦̣̪͍i̗̫̼͔͟ń̘͎̮́ͅ. I’m hoping dropping you on your head will finally unscramble that soft tissue floating in bong water you call a brain.”
The briefcase shines once more, illuminating another rune upon the side.
Tawny let loose a piercing shriek. It floated on dead air, towards the cavern. It landed upon wanting ears, received with glee. Wade’s lips moved frantically once more as baleful roars sounded from the abyss. Water splashed into the Mad World through the cavernous entrance.
“Claire Hawkins. You were always one of my most interesting children. You have always felt like you were on the cusp of something great, just to pull the rug out from under yourself. Every time you’ve fallen flat on your face, I’ve had no inclination towards anything other than laughter. Silly girl. Why do you do this to yourself? Why are you always so willing to nearly go the distance, only to choke on the throttle at the last minute. So stupid. You’re so fucking stupid. That’s why I can’t help but laugh, Claire. Isn’t it funny?”
Leviathans haunting laughter reverberates through your skull like that hollow point that drilled through Cannock’s skull a week ago.
“You’re not laughing? You never did have a sense of humor. It’s that natural witchyness in you. You’re drier than a mausoleum, which is probably why you miss way more than you hit around here. You don’t know how to stay at the forethought. Strategic advantage has never been your strong suit, which is why your chances of winning this match are optimally lower than any of your brothers and sisters. The worst part is I won’t truly have a part in that. You’re your own worst enemy Claire. You always have been and you always will be.”
Leviathan comically peeps around the room.
“A tiger can’t change its stripes, my daughter. No matter how hard you try. You’ll always be the ‘greatest there never was’. Failure for you is a safety net. You can always say you tried your best without the actual pressure of doing your best. I had high hopes for all of my children but one. You, I always knew you would be a pathetic failure. So sad. So fucking sad. Are you crying?”
The last rune on the side of the briefcase casts its eerie blue glow.
The blue orbs float around the renting fabric of the world, keeping everything checked and balanced. Ancient Magic’s beyond human comprehension were at work. Tawny’s mind was flayed in the moment. Her eyes douse a milky white as Wade stares forward into the abyssal trench. Roars sound through millions of razor sharp teeth, millennia old language spoken from a whiplike tongue.
h̸̥͖̼̪͈̝̙͟e͇͇̮͇̥͉̦͜͝ͅl̛̼͕͍͈̼͜͠ͅĺ̦͕̤̙̕o̪̫̖͢ ̢̥̗̹͈̼̭̖͉o̡͉̱̺̜͙͇l̰̙̠̹͇̰d̡̻͖̼̤͢ ̷̦̱̰̱̹̭̮͔f̵̜̲͙̪̭͚r͔̼͢͜ị̧͓̦͞ḛ͓̺̜́͟n̵̥̖̯͖͔̜̲̦͡͡d͙͔̖̝
h̸̥͖̼̪͈̝̙͟e͇͇̮͇̥͉̦͜͝ͅl̛̼͕͍͈̼͜͠ͅĺ̦͕̤̙̕o̪̫̖͢ ̢̥̗̹͈̼̭̖͉o̡͉̱̺̜͙͇l̰̙̠̹͇̰d̡̻͖̼̤͢ ̷̦̱̰̱̹̭̮͔f̵̜̲͙̪̭͚r͔̼͢͜ị̧͓̦͞ḛ͓̺̜́͟n̵̥̖̯͖͔̜̲̦͡͡d͙͔̖̝
“Quixote Della Torre. He͇͇̮͇̥͉̦͜͝ͅl̛̼͕͍͈̼͜͠ͅĺ̦͕̤̙̕o̪̫̖͢ ̢̥̗̹͈̼̭̖͉o̡͉̱̺̜͙͇l̰̙̠̹͇̰d̡̻͖̼̤͢ ̷̦̱̰̱̹̭̮͔f̵̜̲͙̪̭͚r͔̼͢͜ị̧͓̦͞ḛ͓̺̜́͟n̵̥̖̯͖͔̜̲̦͡͡d͙͔̖̝. I’m so glad you made it to All In. It makes me feel like after everything we’ve been through together, you’re finally learning. When I think about my duties as a father, you’re a shining example, the diamond in the rough. A physical specimen unmatched by most on the roster, mind like a sponge, a mouldable piece of clay. With all these incredible qualities, why then - after all the lessons taught, all the wisdom imparted upon you - do I still look upon your person with nothing but sheer disdain and the purest disappointment? It’s for the simple fact that the greatest thing you could provide me is something that can’t be taught.”
Leviathans eyes pierce yours. He’s looking directly at you, Quixote.
“Loyalty. I question your loyalty and that brings into question your caliber as a man. No matter what I’ve done or said, how far I’ve brought you into the fold and given you a glimpse into the mind of the
Leviathan sticks his fist in the air and shakes it over his head, a Mad man shouting at clouds.
“It makes me so ą̵̘̝͚̣̬̯͔̤͢n҉͎̠̹͈̜ģ̼̝̥ŗ̢̯̦̟y, Quixote. It makes me want to just g̥̱͎ŕ͎̟̟̲͉͉a҉̠͎̲̜̫̰b͖̥ ̗̟͓͔̪ͅy̰͔̱͜o͎̝̝ͅṳ͈̘̰̥͘ ̵̖̺̣͖̭b̯͈̜̹͔̮̹͜y ̠t̻̙̠̩̤h̩̜̘̺̥e ̤͙̣͇̲͖͖̀h͚̣̳͉͙͉ę̻̮̬͔̣ͅa̻͕d̶̪̞̳͙͖̱ ạ͉͎͔̻͙͇n̦͎͙̞͚͜d͎͎̬̭ t̲̲̻̪͝h̥̝͕͖̰̕r̲̜̲͚ot̻̩̱̝͕̮t̫̯̩̭̙̰̯́l̗e̶ ͠y̝͉̞̪̳o̬̲͔͈̪̯͉ú͚̭͉͇͍! Why do you do this Quixote? I’ve let you sit at my table and eat with me. You’ve bitten fruit of my knowledge tree. I’ve lead you to opportunity after opportunity. Your wrestling career has only ascended under my wing. So why then do you spit in my face? Have I not been a friend? Have I not been like a father to you? Invited you and your friends into my home in revelry? What’s holding you back Quixote? Why do you think I have nothing but your best intentions at heart?”
Leviathan puts his head in his hand and shakes it back and forth.
“I guess some lessons you really have to learn the hard way. I won’t give up on you yet, Quixote. I won’t let you do this to yourself, not after how far we’ve come. You, son, are my pride and joy, a chip off the old block. I’m still dedicated to your healing, even if we have to start all over again. You think I’m dangerous? At Uprising, I’m going to show you just how dangerous I can be. I’m going to remind you what it’s like to be on the opposing side of the ring from me, rather than by my side. I’ll save the best for last. As I’m dropping your brothers and sisters one by one, I want you to wait in anxious anticipation of what I’m going to do to you. I’m going to help you, Quixote.
E͖̹̗̲͙v̛̳é̛̘̘̫̭̗̭ṋ̪̪̥̭͔ ̱̰̫͙̭͖i̧͎̤͔̳̦̫̗͚f̶̛̜̲̘͝ ̹͕̝į̭̯̞̹͍̝̺̞͢t̨̰͔̖̱͕̘̹̙ ͖͖̜̯͕̀k̜̟̰͓͇͈͍̦ͅí͏͍̼l̛̯̖̻͇͟l̸̟͖̗̬̹̳͟s̜̱̫̺̟͔̲̀͠ ҉̫̞͖̯͖̠y͟҉̧͕̬̯̬̩͎͚o̠ų͞҉̫̯̰̣ͅ.̵̺͖̱͕̹̦̲̼”
The massive run in the middle of the briefcase brightens the halls of the Home For Wayward Souls with its fluorescent blue glow.
A mad blue aura surrounds Leviathan as the briefcase hums a sweet cacophony. He unclasps the case as the runes all grow brightly. The light dissipates as he opens the case. The hums turn to roars as that blue light blasts from the case, engulfing the Leviathan in its mysterious glow.
Knife edged tentacles gently claw their way out of the abyss, threatening the balance of all worlds with its reentry. The blue wisps work frantically to keep it from coming in, but as tentacle after tentacle forces its way through, the wisps die in a bright flash before completely disappearing. Wade Moor comes face to face with the power buried deep within himself, that ancient creature he shared a deep bond with. A hand gently rests on his shoulder.
“Don’t be scared”, Wade assures.
I̸̩̺̲̻̺͎̘’̨̣̻͉̰̠̜̩m̴̘͙̫͡ ̡͡͏͚n̛̯̰̪̠͉̺o̡̩̝͍̥̬͇̱̮t̶̟̹̜͚͓̺̩͞͠.̜͎̩̭̼͘͞
Wade turns and comes face to face with Leviathan, that shark toothed razor face even more grotesque under the influence of theMad World.
Ì̧̭̕’̴̨҉̹̞m̴͙͈̜̠̗̖̥̭͕͡ ̨̭̹̬̪̟̙͎a͓̗̭̖̘̞͚̞͘͟͡l͡͏͇̹͖̜͢ͅw̸͖̲̹̝a͍̰̦͔̦y̰͚͍̠̲͟͜s͖̻̹͓̦͚͙̩͘ ̞̗̖͙o̡͓n̤̣̗̳̰͖̰͢ḛ̖͎̥͔̣͠ ͢͏̴͔͚͚̼̻̳s̶̝̱̩̯͚̖̖ͅͅt͓̘͖̦̱̀͞ę̛̻̞͙̖p̛͎̖͇̀ ̣̗͇͜ḁ̠͓̜h̶̴̘̞́ͅe̴̵̳̪͔̟̥̳͟a̶͙̪͖̳̱̤̲d̛͜҉͉̳̠̙̘̤̰̟ͅ ̯̜̰̙̲o̜̙̭͍͘ͅf̬̗̪͈̻͔͘͘ ̝̭̣͈͎ͅy̠͟o͏̧̥͓̩̦̜u̞͙͔̗͘.̸͓̜̦̪ ̡̪͉͖͎̹̯E̝̫͎͕̫̘͙v҉̻͔̠̝͎̫̭ͅḛ̢̙̭̩̼͍̰r̯͎͓̯̹̠̰̕͝ý͍̩̥͎ọ̧̧̙̳̥́n͏͍̥̠͍͚̠̱e̴̮͓͝.͎̟̰
It leans in close, it’s greasy flesh rubbing against his.
T͓̝͢͡h̶̷̝̘͡a̸̬̘̫̱͟͝ǹ̴͍̝͕k̘͈̻̩̝͙̪͟ ͕̻̣̀y̳̲̰͕̕o̺͙̖̩͕̥u̼̪̻̗̦͚̺͈̲.̡̛̭̰̯̣͕̝̼͓͠
Wade drops to his knees, finally broken by The Leviathan, who basks in the glory of the power he’s finally unleashed.
“Don’t be scared”, Wade assures.
I̸̩̺̲̻̺͎̘’̨̣̻͉̰̠̜̩m̴̘͙̫͡ ̡͡͏͚n̛̯̰̪̠͉̺o̡̩̝͍̥̬͇̱̮t̶̟̹̜͚͓̺̩͞͠.̜͎̩̭̼͘͞
Wade turns and comes face to face with Leviathan, that shark toothed razor face even more grotesque under the influence of the
Ì̧̭̕’̴̨҉̹̞m̴͙͈̜̠̗̖̥̭͕͡ ̨̭̹̬̪̟̙͎a͓̗̭̖̘̞͚̞͘͟͡l͡͏͇̹͖̜͢ͅw̸͖̲̹̝a͍̰̦͔̦y̰͚͍̠̲͟͜s͖̻̹͓̦͚͙̩͘ ̞̗̖͙o̡͓n̤̣̗̳̰͖̰͢ḛ̖͎̥͔̣͠ ͢͏̴͔͚͚̼̻̳s̶̝̱̩̯͚̖̖ͅͅt͓̘͖̦̱̀͞ę̛̻̞͙̖p̛͎̖͇̀ ̣̗͇͜ḁ̠͓̜h̶̴̘̞́ͅe̴̵̳̪͔̟̥̳͟a̶͙̪͖̳̱̤̲d̛͜҉͉̳̠̙̘̤̰̟ͅ ̯̜̰̙̲o̜̙̭͍͘ͅf̬̗̪͈̻͔͘͘ ̝̭̣͈͎ͅy̠͟o͏̧̥͓̩̦̜u̞͙͔̗͘.̸͓̜̦̪ ̡̪͉͖͎̹̯E̝̫͎͕̫̘͙v҉̻͔̠̝͎̫̭ͅḛ̢̙̭̩̼͍̰r̯͎͓̯̹̠̰̕͝ý͍̩̥͎ọ̧̧̙̳̥́n͏͍̥̠͍͚̠̱e̴̮͓͝.͎̟̰
It leans in close, it’s greasy flesh rubbing against his.
T͓̝͢͡h̶̷̝̘͡a̸̬̘̫̱͟͝ǹ̴͍̝͕k̘͈̻̩̝͙̪͟ ͕̻̣̀y̳̲̰͕̕o̺͙̖̩͕̥u̼̪̻̗̦͚̺͈̲.̡̛̭̰̯̣͕̝̼͓͠
Wade drops to his knees, finally broken by The Leviathan, who basks in the glory of the power he’s finally unleashed.