The True Hatebringer Cometh
Aug 28, 2019 10:12:33 GMT -5
Shadowlove, Frank Venable, and 1 more like this
Post by Corey Bull on Aug 28, 2019 10:12:33 GMT -5
August 27th, 2019
Bulls home
3:10 P.M.
Off Camera
Bulls home
3:10 P.M.
Off Camera
**A fire burns in the black stone fireplace inside the large home that belongs to Corey Bull. The monster is staring, but not at the fire, but the light that glistens off of the silver death mask. The mask sits with reverence on a black silk towel on top of a hardwood coffee table. His eyes dance with flames as he continues to look it over. He has shaved most of his beard off and his hair isn’t so controlled anymore, as if it has taken on a life of its own. The click of heels on wood floors is heard and the shutting of a door. In walks a woman of dark beauty. Standing at six feet tall, Raven Darkhawk cuts a figure that would make most men melt on the spot. But it isn’t her beauty that she uses to define who she is. No, its her dark heart and her work as a government “cleaner”. Another fancy word in the bureaucracy for assassin. She stops, the fire light playing over the mask grabbing her attention. She smiles, the smile that melts hearts and rips them out and walks into the room, dressed to kill in her black leather bodysuit and a black trench coat, her waist long black hair in a braid. She drops herself into a Lazy boy**
“So Murder finally found his escape? Do I have to put my brother down or has there been a reconciliation?”
**Bull turns to her with hard eyes, and smiles**
“Hello to you Raven.. And no...we have finally become complete. For the first time in a long time...we are thinking more clearly ...breathing the air deeper...feeling the pulse of the world more intensely.”
“Bout fucking time. I don’t know why in the hell you let Apocalypse put you through all that shit just to lock up the part of you that made you...well you.”
**Bull lets out a sigh**
“We understand it enough. After we killed that kid in the ring...then dropped that guy off the roof...then assaulted that group in the alley...well he figured we couldn’t be trusted to be us.”
“Fuck did he know? So someone died wrestling you. Shit happens. So you dropped the guy that hospitalized our sister from a thirty story building. Motherfucker deserved that and more.”
**Raven leans forward, hard gaze meeting hard gaze**
“Apocalypse didn’t understand that sometimes...bodies have to fill bags to get the job done.”
**Bull grins**
“Don’t worry dear sister...there will be bodies.”
**Raven returns his grin and leans back**
“Good. It’s about frickin time you stopped being scary with a soft touch and really brought the pain.”
**Bull gets a queer look on his face and Raven just laughs**
“Come on Bull, you know damn well that my list has only gotten bigger, while yours has been stagnant. Now, this Culture Shock business you got going...that's good. You need to shake up the business. That has always been your talent...besides dropping people on their heads. Oblivion and Slayer are good assets, both bring something to the table. And Claire is a warrior after my own heart. And brother if you don’t hit on that…”
**Raven grins, a different kind of grin**
“You damn well know I will.”
**Bull laughs a hearty and slightly demonic laugh**
“Go back to your play things in Russia Raven. Uncle Vlad tells us you have a small harem there. Let us do what we must. But first...did you get what we asked for?”
**Raven nods and pulls out a small envelope**
“He became a priest of all things. Sick fucker. Here’s the address and when he is in the confessional booth. Enjoy brother.”
Raven tosses the envelope on the table and walks out. Bull turns to it and grins, then returns to the mask, sliding it over his head and fastening it on. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and when they open, it is as if a new monster resides in the darkness of his eyes**
August 27th, 2019
The bowels of the Fords Trucks Arena
11.23 P.M.
On Camera
**The lower realms. It has been a long time since a camera crew has had to walk into the bowels of an arena to see…..that creature. But it is exactly where it is traveling right now. Piping that runs heating and water is to the left of the camera, just over head level. The pipes have the occasional drip of water from condensation. Light bulbs, single ones every 50 feet makes the shadows more common then the light down here. The echoing of the cameraman’s feet on the cement gives you an eerie feel, as does the occasional drip of water. Every corner, every door, seems to hold something that you do not want to see. As we round a corner, we are greeted by a large metal door. It has a faded feel to it, of a time when men fought everyday for the right to live. As the threshold is crossed, the large door making little to no sound, we see the room beyond is one of nightmares. Hanging on the brick walls by chunks of metal are weapons that we are very familiar with in the wrestling world: a dented steel chair, a barbed wire wrapped bat, a Singapore cane. Centered in the room is a large oak desk. Behind that desk sits one of the several electric chairs that was removed from the prisons. This older one seems haunting, its entire frame seemingly stained with the souls of the dead. On the desk sits the black horned helm and the elephant killer axe. These pieces of legend, possessions of the Bull family legacy since the 12 century, are Bull‘s pride and joy. Their stories alone is enough to make the most lethal of individuals smile with appreciation. Leaning on the desk, his arms crossed and his head slightly lowered, but with a grim look in his eyes, is the freshly masked Corey Bull. His dress is the same as always, the jeans and work boots with a black work shirt, but for some reason the circumstances adds to the entire situation, making Bull seem…unholy**
“Oh Frank...we don’t think you have any real idea of what the fuck..you have gotten into. We are pretty sure that you “think'' you know. But the reality has been switched and turned on its head. Your reality...the one that existed the minute they signed this match...was changed the minute we decided we didn’t want to be some tool for the top.”
**Bull raises his head, a fire burning in the eyes of the mask**
“We like to forge our own way...we like to walk into battle to where the blood and muck is knee deep and we have to struggle to get to the prize. Our family name goes back a long, long way with that same heritage. Our ancestors battled over and over to be the best. Our ships rode across the water with dragons heads on the stem post of our keel! Our ancestors wore armor and swung blades in battles you will never hear of because that was their everyday life. And you think...no you believe...that we are going to just let you walk out of Clash. You think that you are going to just easily overcome that which is coming for you.”
“Man...have you been lied too.”
**Bull stands and walks slowly around the desk, a wave of hatred crossing his eyes. He leans back on the desk**
“You may not think it...you may not even want to understand it...but the circumstances have changed Frank. They changed the minute we swung a chair and took away your shot at the tag titles. It was a moment that we want you to remember...a moment we want you to have etched on your mind. Because in that moment...we left behind something we were not and released something we have always craved to be. Something that was hidden from us...something deep within that we set free. And let us tell you something Frank...it feels really good to be whole.”
**Bull closes his eyes behind the mask and takes a deep breath. When he opens them again...the hate is still there strong**
“Your name and who you are supposedly makes you a big deal. The things you have done...places you have been...those are all supposed to be impressive. And maybe...at some point...we were impressed by you. Maybe. It’s hard to tell...with the amount of ways running through our head on how to make you suffer...it doesn’t leave a lot of room for being impressed. Whatever you did in the past...whatever accomplishments you had before this Monday...mean nothing to us at this point. Just that one moment...just that one where you were a fingers length away from being tag title contenders. That is the only moment we want to matter. Because it lit a fire in you and Black. It is doing exactly what we wanted it to. But through all of it..only Black has been vocal. Why is that Frank? Is there a reason for it?”
**The mask grins it what seems like a sarcastic manner as Bull turns his head just right...and his eyes are circles that lead to the void**
“No wait...we get it. Your afraid. You see something that truly...for once in your pathetic life...has caused you to be afraid. And it isn’t our size. It isn’t even our wrestling skills. It is that which lies within that you fear. You can see it...can’t you Frank. You can smell it...hell we bet you can taste it in the air when you are in our presence. You fear what we are…..you fear what we are capable of...and you will do the one thing that most people do when they fear something…they belittle it and attempt to destroy and undermine it. Well Frank...not...this...time. No...we can not and will not allow you to just slide by. Action Wrestling deserves more than that. So we are coming...we will make your life miserable ...and the only way that you make it out of Clash is because ƜЄ ƛԼԼƠƜ ƖƬ!”
**Bulls eyes hold more than just hatred now...anger...rage...pure violence. The mask seems to mold to his face...contorting in manners that no normal mask is capable of..and yet this one seems to do so at a whim**
“Your life is in the palm of our hand…not the other way around. We have nothing to fear from you Frank...because you have given us NOTHING to fear. You have made it clear that you want to go back to chasing tag team gold...hanging out with Black and making your “dominance” known. Not going to happen. It is time you stepped up and got knocked off your high horse. And we will be the one to do it. You only know what we allow you to know. We only show you half the tricks. The other half are the ones that will get you. And those are the ones, Frank, that will leave you in that ring and ƝƛƖԼЄƊ ƜƖƬӇ ӇƛƬЄ!”
**Bull continues to stare at the camera, a hard and hated look in his eyes as color goes to black and white, then fades to black**
August 28th, 2019
An unknown location
9:00 AM
Off Camera
**The church is something right out of either an old movie from the early 40’s or one of the common god versus devil movies. Huge peaks with a black shingles are the first thing one sees when they start from the top. As you work your way down, this church is old red sandstone brick. A large stone cross sits above the entrance, with stained glass windows to both sides. One depicts the Virgin Mary and the other the crucifixion of Christ. Below is a pair of double doors that seem to be the originals that the church was built with. Solid and well aged oak. When one enters this house of God, they are stricken by the pure simplicity and beauty of the interior. The old red sandstone bricks are obvious inside the structure and are accented by a red wood that is polished to a shine. Walking down the aisle into a confessional booth, is Corey Bull. Sitting on his face is the silver death mask. Bull enters the confessional and all can be heard. And his voice has an eerie, demonic tone to it.**
”ƑƠƦƓƖƔЄ ƲƧ, ƑƠƦ ƖƬ ӇƛƧ ƁЄЄƝ ƛ ԼƠƝƓ ƬƖMЄ ƧƖƝƇЄ ƜЄ ƧƖƝƝЄƊ.”
**The cryptic voice that seems to flow and echo from the other side of the partition is one that would not be recognizable to most, but to those that have been with Bull before, know that it belongs to the very man that created the monster. The voice is that of Apocalypse.**
“So the killer has been let out of the box. After all that time I spent putting him in there, you spend that time letting him out. Do you understand what you have done?”
**A deep chuckle, the kind that sends shivers up a spine is heard**
“Oh we fully understand what it is we have done. We have finally stopped listening to the garbage you spewed...the psycho-babble you used to get us in that box. But we have seen the error of your ways and released us to our fullest of potentials. After all, someone has to get this train wreck of a monster back on the right path.”
“I put you in the box for a good reason Murder. You do not play well with the others. You always thought you should be the only one to run things. You are a loose cannon and ...”
“And the reality is that we did not like your idea of being a monster. But we have come to grips with our time in the void of this mind. And now...now we are freed by the very mind you thought would keep us imprisoned.”
“I guess there isn’t a chance that you will go back in the box?”
**Bull chuckles, a very demonic sound that echoes within the church.**
“Not a fucking chance. We are tired of sitting on the bench when we are first string material. The rest of our mind understand...in fact, they are the ones that let us out to join the group...to finally be one with the entire monster. While you rerouted our original plan all those years ago...the goal has not changed. Fear to our enemies. Violence to those that oppose us. Change the culture. Our legal system is pain…our prison is destruction...and our execution is hate. We just wanted to stop by and let you know. Wouldn’t want you to miss any highlights.”
**There is silence. A stalemate of sorts. Finally, Apocalypse speaks.**
“I see that the time of the loose cannon is now. The Hatebringer must come forth. There is much that needs to be realigned. What will you do with your lost family of misfits?”
**A smile from the mask in the dark. Bulls face is like that in horror movies, where just the smile can be seen and the rest of his face is hidden by the darkness. Except here, it is the mask we see and the eyes of hatred that is most visible**
“We shall walk with them to the top. We will open up the dam and let the change come. They understand it...they see the path we are walking and have gladly joined us. They see the cancer...they see the things that need to be done. We are no longer a lost family of misfits...we are the wave of change this place not only needs...but deserves. This is the last time you will ever see us. We are free. And we all agree…”
**Bull stands in the confessional**
“ƜЄ ӇƛƔЄ ƠƲƬƓƦƠƜƝ ƳƠƲ.”
**Bull leaves the confessional, walking down the aisle, a long black duster on his frame. It billows behind him as if it has a life of its own and seems almost to be black fire that follows the Hatebringer as he leaves the church and everything becomes white noise.**
An unknown location
9:00 AM
Off Camera
**The church is something right out of either an old movie from the early 40’s or one of the common god versus devil movies. Huge peaks with a black shingles are the first thing one sees when they start from the top. As you work your way down, this church is old red sandstone brick. A large stone cross sits above the entrance, with stained glass windows to both sides. One depicts the Virgin Mary and the other the crucifixion of Christ. Below is a pair of double doors that seem to be the originals that the church was built with. Solid and well aged oak. When one enters this house of God, they are stricken by the pure simplicity and beauty of the interior. The old red sandstone bricks are obvious inside the structure and are accented by a red wood that is polished to a shine. Walking down the aisle into a confessional booth, is Corey Bull. Sitting on his face is the silver death mask. Bull enters the confessional and all can be heard. And his voice has an eerie, demonic tone to it.**
”ƑƠƦƓƖƔЄ ƲƧ, ƑƠƦ ƖƬ ӇƛƧ ƁЄЄƝ ƛ ԼƠƝƓ ƬƖMЄ ƧƖƝƇЄ ƜЄ ƧƖƝƝЄƊ.”
**The cryptic voice that seems to flow and echo from the other side of the partition is one that would not be recognizable to most, but to those that have been with Bull before, know that it belongs to the very man that created the monster. The voice is that of Apocalypse.**
“So the killer has been let out of the box. After all that time I spent putting him in there, you spend that time letting him out. Do you understand what you have done?”
**A deep chuckle, the kind that sends shivers up a spine is heard**
“Oh we fully understand what it is we have done. We have finally stopped listening to the garbage you spewed...the psycho-babble you used to get us in that box. But we have seen the error of your ways and released us to our fullest of potentials. After all, someone has to get this train wreck of a monster back on the right path.”
“I put you in the box for a good reason Murder. You do not play well with the others. You always thought you should be the only one to run things. You are a loose cannon and ...”
“And the reality is that we did not like your idea of being a monster. But we have come to grips with our time in the void of this mind. And now...now we are freed by the very mind you thought would keep us imprisoned.”
“I guess there isn’t a chance that you will go back in the box?”
**Bull chuckles, a very demonic sound that echoes within the church.**
“Not a fucking chance. We are tired of sitting on the bench when we are first string material. The rest of our mind understand...in fact, they are the ones that let us out to join the group...to finally be one with the entire monster. While you rerouted our original plan all those years ago...the goal has not changed. Fear to our enemies. Violence to those that oppose us. Change the culture. Our legal system is pain…our prison is destruction...and our execution is hate. We just wanted to stop by and let you know. Wouldn’t want you to miss any highlights.”
**There is silence. A stalemate of sorts. Finally, Apocalypse speaks.**
“I see that the time of the loose cannon is now. The Hatebringer must come forth. There is much that needs to be realigned. What will you do with your lost family of misfits?”
**A smile from the mask in the dark. Bulls face is like that in horror movies, where just the smile can be seen and the rest of his face is hidden by the darkness. Except here, it is the mask we see and the eyes of hatred that is most visible**
“We shall walk with them to the top. We will open up the dam and let the change come. They understand it...they see the path we are walking and have gladly joined us. They see the cancer...they see the things that need to be done. We are no longer a lost family of misfits...we are the wave of change this place not only needs...but deserves. This is the last time you will ever see us. We are free. And we all agree…”
**Bull stands in the confessional**
“ƜЄ ӇƛƔЄ ƠƲƬƓƦƠƜƝ ƳƠƲ.”
**Bull leaves the confessional, walking down the aisle, a long black duster on his frame. It billows behind him as if it has a life of its own and seems almost to be black fire that follows the Hatebringer as he leaves the church and everything becomes white noise.**