The Man Who Had Everything
Sept 11, 2019 22:41:50 GMT -5
Shadowlove, Wade Moor, and 4 more like this
Post by Lockhart on Sept 11, 2019 22:41:50 GMT -5
18th of August, 2019.
The arena echoed with the shouting of the crowd, their reactions of surprise and wonder pounding through his skull as he sat up against the guardrail, vision dotted with black spots and blurred from the sting of sweat as it trickled into his eyes.
His forearm went to his eyes, wiping both them and the cascade of dark brown hair that had fallen over his face. With the image clear, he now saw the clouds shatter, the kingdom fall, and his World changed.
Dandy DiVito had won, and he had lost. He, of all people, had lost. Untouched, unfazed throughout all of 2019, and yet here came the inevitable moment that every brave, fighting champion had to face eventually.
Loss.
Pyro went off, the crowds roar reverberated across the stadium, and the view before him burned itself into his mind, a memory that would serve as a constant reminder of what could happen when one over-zealously chased after their wild ambitions.
Those ambitions? Not only etching a legacy into stone, but engraving it deep enough to where it could never fade, no matter what attempted to erode it. The moment Joseph Malignaggi’s music hit, his body, his desire, his passion… none of it allowed him to ignore the challenge.
The fake challenge.
The challenge that didn’t exist.
The match that could never be.
A couple of hours and many ice packs later, a lone camera recorded the scene of the defeated Lockhart, feet kicked up in front of him as he leaned back into the fold-out chair beneath him. A wry smile on the face of the former World Champion.
‘I guess you could say I had it coming, huh?’
A nonchalant shrug.
‘You wouldn’t be wrong. For eight months, I challenged every fuckin’ man and woman on the roster to bring me their best. To give me something worth fighting for. Something to awaken my fighting spirit. I beat the best you had to offer and more, I put it all on the line and when someone came through, convinced they had what it took to dethrone the best wrestler on the planet? I ripped their fuckin’ souls and hearts out and added them to the pile of disheartened victims who came before me.’
A tilt of the head.
‘Until now. Now, everyone I’ve competed against, and everyone still quivering hoping they don’t have to go up against me… they want to see me crumble. You saw it all. Richards. Spencer. TFK. Lissie. Dandy. They see defeat, something I’m not too familiar with, and they’ll be desperate to tear it open. To claim that I’m broken, to suggest that I’ve got nothing left.
‘But I’m The Man Who Had Everything.
‘And now? I want to be The Man Who Defeated The World.
‘The crown I’ve had? It carried with it my pride and will to fight, but eventually? It became hollow. Doing the same thing over and over again became a running joke, a recurring loop that I couldn’t get out of. I had no freedom, no will of my own to do what I wanted. I begged to defend my title every week, they denied me.
‘I begged for them to bring someone capable of beating me without a cheap trick or distraction. Someone like Wade Moor. Someone who had proven they could do it before, someone who would ignite the fire I had been lacking. They denied me.’
A grin, a click of the tongue, and two arms spread to either side.
‘Now? You can’t deny me. There’s nothing left but to accept reality and realize that Action Wrestling? It’s mine. I bring the ratings, I’ve sold out every PPV I’ve headlined, I’ve crafted the beginning of my legendary legacy as the first Action Wrestling Original to hold the World Title, and as the only one to truly breakthrough when surrounded by a group of WCF and UCI veterans who were handed opportunities on silver platters, just like Richards and Spencer were.
‘Action Wrestling… I own it all. And without the World Title weighing me down for the time being? It’s about time I got what I wanted.
‘Soon, I’m going to call Corey Black and make my demand. At XIII, I rip the crown straight off the head of My Ghost In New York, the greatest of WCF’s Modern-Era, one of the few who can claim a record and a list of names superior to my own.
‘Joey… whether you want it or not, I’m making it happen. My entire career has seen me having to force my way into getting what I want, and beating you and shutting down the conversation between which of us is the greatest? That’s the only thing on my mind.
‘There’s a bodybag on deck, but when I decide your time is up? You’re already dead. It’s just a matter of bringing you to me.’
August 19th, 2019.
He knocked on the door, a small vase of blue flowers in his free hand. His right foot tapped against the floor underneath him, and although the weather was cool, his cheeks felt warm. A few moments later, the door swung back to reveal Amber, whose normally slender frame was offset slightly by the small bump along her midsection. Ryan offered up a weak smile, extending the arm out with the flowers.
‘Miss me?’
Her reaction; the lengthy sigh, the reluctant accepting of the flowers, the slow transition into the smile and the welcoming embrace was everything he had hoped for. They stayed there, comfortable in each other’s embrace, until she pulled away.
‘Are you okay? You aren’t hurt?’ she said, her hands moving from his face, to his shoulders, down to his elbows. Upon reaching the latter, he jerked away in an involuntary movement.
‘Of course I’m fuckin’ hurt, I got my ass hurdled for twenty-plus minutes in a ladder match.’ he said, a grin on his face. She laughed, stepping to the side as Ryan made his way into her apartment.
‘Right, right. I should’ve known. It wouldn’t be you if you didn’t destroy yourself to protect that belt.’ she said, although she frowned as she reached the end of the sentence.
‘Does it bother you?’
‘What?’
‘Not being World Champion.’
His gait was uneven as he found the nearest sofa and collapsed onto it back first, eyes up at the dark ceiling.
‘It had to happen eventually. I’m at peace with it.’
‘But it’s all you wanted. From the day we first met… that was your dream.’
‘Yeah, and I lived it. I’m one of the few lucky enough to say that. There’s no regrets. Sooner or later I’ll get my chance to hold it again, and I’ll have to deal with one day dropping it again to someone hungrier, or someone who edged me out on the day. That’s how it works.
‘You of all people should know this is far from the hardest thing I’ve had to go through in my life. I’ll be fine, Amber. Really.’
From where he sat, he could almost hear her exhale of relief, and could visualize the relaxing of the shoulders.
‘Coffee? Food? Have you had anything since you flew back here?’
‘Wine would be good.’
‘Typical.’
‘What can I say? I’m a creature of habit.’ he said, a small smile spreading over his lips. Amber chuckled as she walked over to the kitchen.
‘Since you’re the only one allowed the stuff, I’m gonna have to deny that request.’
‘That’s fair.’
A moment of silence between them as she fumbled between a selection of mugs, eventually picking two and setting the kettle to boil. Her head turned toward him.
‘Have you told anyone yet?’
‘About the kid? Well, yeah. Between the thousands who tune into my promos and all the news joints jumping on it… I’m confident pretty much everyone knows.’
‘Oh, great. Just what I wanted to hear.’
‘I know.’
She sighed, tapping on the counter in front of her as the kettle continued to squeal.
‘What’s your family thinking about it all?’
Ryan let out an abrupt laugh, one that brought a frown on Amber’s face.
‘Louis is supportive, at least. Mom and Uncle Oli think I can barely take care of myself. Which… given my track record, I guess they’re kinda right about.’
She scooped two teaspoons of coffee beans into each of their mugs, and began to tip the boiled water into the mugs. She attempted a light-hearted tone.
‘At least you’ll be able to turn that around with this break you’ve got now.’
Ryan’s head snapped toward her, mouth slightly open in the shape of an oval. He shuffled in his seat, bringing himself up a bit higher and forcing a cough.
‘Uh, yeah… about that… I called Corey Black. We’re trying to make the Flash match happen.’
She stopped, becoming rigid and turning to face him, he could see the disappointment on her face before she had even completed the turn.
‘What happened to waiting until that tournament at the end of the year? You’ve been on the road for months, you barely come here anymore and when you do, it’s to spend time with Louis. Give me something to work with, Ryan. Please.’
He held up his hands in a form of innocence, trying to reassure her with a grin.
‘Hey, hey. It’ll be fine. It won’t be for almost another month, and I’m not scheduled for any matches for the next few weeks. I’ll spend everyday here until I need to fly out, and then I’ll be back the next night.’
Her hands folded over themselves, leaning on the counter behind her.
‘I… I don’t know, I’ve already waited so long. I know this means a lot to you, but can’t it wait?’
He stood up from the couch, wincing in pain from the hurried movement. He paced over to her, grabbing near each of her shoulders and giving them a light squeeze.
‘Listen, this is the last one. This… and Wrestler of the Year. That’s it. After I’ve won both of those, I’m satisfied. I don’t need anything else. I can hang up the boots and call it a day, I’ll have made enough money to last a lifetime and made enough of a legacy to be proud of forever.
‘I know it can wait, I know I can take my time… but I don’t want to. I thought having the belt would be enough, but it wasn’t.’
His eyes widened slightly, mouth forming a thin line until his lips separated.
‘I need this.’
She saw the desperation, the need, the hunger… and she gave in.
‘O-okay, okay. That’s okay. I know how much it means to you, I just wanted you to know how I’m feeling.’
He smiled graciously, giving her a kiss on the forehead.
‘Thank you.’ he said, simply. He returned to the couch, spreading over it and feeling the pain of the last few days subsiding as he sank into the leather beneath him. A glance behind him saw Boston span before his eyes. For the first time in a while, he truly felt relaxed and at peace.
But what would a moment with no conflict be without The Curse nipping at his heels, chewing away at the very fiber of his being.
You lost without me.
I lost by my own choice.
My choice would have been different. We’d still be King.
I’m set on a different crown.
Malignaggi? Hmph. You don’t compare to him. You’ll need me then, too.
Doubtful.
Ryan… I want to help you. But if you don't embrace me, I’ll have to take it by force.
Take what?
Your body.
He sat up, feeling a pain in his chest. He grabbed at his shirt, grimacing. Amber looked over at him, but he shifted himself up to his feet.
‘Everything okay?’
‘Yeah, yeah. I just need a smoke.’
That’s just a warning.
Two statues, each sculpted and grooved to depict two ancient warriors, each donning Corithian-style helmets, large rounded shields, and spears as they faced off against one another in battle. Beneath them, Ryan Lockhart stood at the top of a long path of stone stairs, smiling as he gestures to the figures behind him.
‘It’s time. This is where I end everything. Every comparison, every claim that I’ve ripped you off, every analyst, interviewer, reporter, or fan who’ve suggested that I’m in someway equal or inferior to you. Now? I cut those thoughts into pieces and shred through you in one fell swoop, dispelling all notions that Joey Flash is the greatest.
‘You got that itch again, huh Joey? Good. Let’s fuckin’ scratch it. The last time you came out here pullin’ that same shit, you ended up getting wiped off the face of the Earth by one Noble Savage, the same Noble Savage who headline ONE that year and walked away with the World Title, the same Noble Savage who came into MY federation… and fuckin’ tanked harder than you’d ever believe.
‘Was that when the aura of Joey Flash started to crack, a dent in the armor of an otherwise godly and untouchable figure in this sport? When he couldn’t even get the job done against a C-Tier player in a federation light years beyond what WCF could’ve ever hoped to achieve?
‘No, it wasn’t.’
He shakes his head.
‘A man cannot be defined by one battle, one failure, one loss, one bad judgement or decision. Joey Flash was not broken upon defeat at the hands of Noble Savage.
‘He was already fucked from the very beginning.
‘Every step Flash takes comes with an increasing doubt, a loss of control, moments of doubt, fear and cowardice. You surround yourself in myths and cliches. You can’t be touched. You’re a God walking amongst mere mortals. You’re all-seeing. Punches come at you in slow-motion, your natural predatory instinct and raw fighting ability can’t be matched. You never crumble under the bright lights of the big match, the main-event, the World Title. It all comes naturally, you look demons in the eye and they perish like all the rest.
‘Joey Flash is the perfect specimen.'
A thoughtful frown.
‘But Joseph Malignaggi? Fuck, what a coward.
‘Let’s go man to man here for a moment, Joseph. What fuckin’ man with any form of self-respect would go by the name “Joey” by the way? Pussboi. Anyway, let’s see you for what you really are. While now you stand tall with all your bravado, all your accomplishments, and all the fame and adulation you’ve earned from the fans, prior to any of the success? You were a fuckin’ coward, begging for Dune to give you the attention you desired so badly. You were a serial cheap-shotter who couldn’t go a week without complaining that you weren’t the best. You were hungry, you were defiant, you were angry. You wanted respect, and you got it when you defeated your rival at WAR and got your first World Title.
‘Congratulations. Excellent work. We were all proud of you, Joseph. For all your despicable behavior, you proved time and time again you could get the job done in the ring. That’s what we like to see.
‘If only any of that winner’s mentality was ever present in your real life. Tell me, how does “Joey Flash” go from:
“Bodybags on deck, motherfucker.”
‘To…’
“S-sorry, Al. Please, let me make it up to you. I know I fucked up! Please, you’re the girl of my dre-”
Ryan stops, appearing mockingly disappointment.
‘Grovel some more, why don’t you? It’s what you’re best at. When you’re not being the World Champion or winning WAR, you’re being the mob boss’ daughter’s bitch, even from way back in the day. Looks like some things just don’t change, even when you give them time, huh?
‘For a guy so hellbent on winning, on being the best, you sure like taking second-place where it counts. You were the weak-half of a supposed power couple headlined by Alessandra, and when it came to being a father? All you could see in that kid was her influence, her doing.
“The killer in him is the killer in me?”
‘No. The killer in her. You aren’t a killer, Joey. You’ve never had it in you. You think you do, you want that to be the case, don’t you? You have a desperate, all-devouring need to be in control of situations, in control of your life, to feel as though you have all the power… but you don’t. Even as a time-warping, space-tearing God you still fall victim to the same traps you did when you were just a normal guy who was just good at boxing.
‘Your anxiety, your doubts, your fears, they all come bolting to the surface, faster than any punch you can throw and quicker than you can stop time. Your self-aggrandizing covers up this well, but not to the trained eye. I can already see you in your bathroom, nose bleeding from the near drug-overdoses, repeating to yourself that you’re the best, that you’re the greatest, that nobody can hurt you and that this is your World.
‘But Joseph… let me whisper something in your ear and reveal the truth to you.
‘This isn’t Your World anymore.
‘It’s mine.
‘And it has been from the moment I arrived here in Action Wrestling. I’m the protagonist, the hero and the villain of this story. This federation and the entire World of Wrestling has revolved around me from the moment I got started. While you started slow and built your way up through a meandering Television Title reign, I fired out of the gates and the conversation went from “Wow, Roy Speede and Donald Deruty, huh?” to “Ryan Lockhart, future World Champion and Greatest of All-Time.”
‘That’s the difference between you and I. Rate of progression. You stagnated. You were whisked away into Dune’s shadow. You needed to gain your confidence, as you’ve always had to. You could never come out and saw what you really wanted, you never had the courage to do that.
‘You needed Dune to accept you for your match. You needed Jonny Fly to come out and babysit you before you could really become “The Man”. You’ve always needed direction and guidance from someone else. Me? I entered as a rookie and squared off against a fuckin’ monster in my first ever World Title match… and I got my ass handed to me.
‘Here’s the thing, Joey. For all my bragging, I know where I’ve fallen short. I know when and where I’ve gone. I’m improved more than anyone else in the business ever has, and ever will. I’m the sum of every match I’ve taken part of, every encounter inside and outside of this ring, every failure and every victory. You? You’re a caricature. You’re never your true self.
‘You drop “roasts” and get the “bodybags on deck” one minute, and then the next you’re sobbing and writing tears to little Joey Black, praying for forgiveness and hoping that he one day doesn’t resent you for what you did to his Father. You’re recording videos for Christian Malignaggi, wanting him to understand what type of man you are and why you do the things you do. You’re sorry, you’re upset, you didn’t want things to turn out this wa- shut the fuck up and live with it, bastard.
‘Everyone’s been through shit, everyone’s struggling in some way. You think you’re the only one? You put down every other man’s issues, you ridicule Gemini Battle, you mock those that came before you and those that have attempted to come up after you, yet deep down you’re just like the rest of us. Vulnerable. Breakable. Let’s see what happens when I bend you backwards over my knee and snap you in two, you weak-willed cunt.
‘Oh. I used the word. Am I pandering to your old crowd a bit too much there?
‘If I was… I couldn’t care less, Joseph. I’m the man, now. I do what I want, and what you wish you could’ve done throughout your entire career. I’m the guy who beat Dune and could actually stand after doing so. I’m the guy who has had the most legendary World Title reign in the modern-era, surpassing not only you and Dune, but even The Ghost From New York that you’ve been chasing for how many years now?
‘All you could do was sit there and throw a temper tantrum in his mansion, lighting the match and Reducing It All To Ash, correct? That’s what you do, right? You burned it all down and all the history that came along with it, you released the weight off of your shoul- oh wait, no you didn’t. Because here you are, after all this time…
‘You couldn’t live with your own failure, without being able to ever draw Fly in for the big one, without ever being able to solidify yourself as the best. Then you started seeing me, the next big thing, the one who was slowly but surely creeping up to your level and starting to generate the discussion. You saw your next target, you started to get that “itch” just like you did for the last WAR, and eventually? You came running.
‘Your failure brought you to me, and now? I only send you back with more regrets, more anger, more pain, and even more helplessness when the realization hits you that I’m the type of guy you wish you could be. Free, at peace, uncontrolled by the whims of others and the expectations that are placed on me.
‘The same expectation that eats away at you, Joey. The one you can’t get away from. That’s what keeps bringing you back. The need to fight, the need to be in the one place you feel at home, your sanctuary, your solace, the only place you’re in control.
‘And you’re right. For multiple years, you’ve been in control. You’ve chopped down every competitor in your path and asserted your dominance over a federation that has now had to Bite The Dust. There’ve been few who have been able to match your combination of speed, viciousness and technicality.
‘Until now.
‘Joseph Malignaggi. Meet your Kingslayer. I have all of your abilities and more, but they’ve been honed over the last year and a half while you’ve been sitting at home watching me achieve greatness. There’s nothing you can do that I haven’t seen or studied for.
‘When we step into the ring together, it’ll be the first time you get to do so without being in control. You won’t be the mastermind bringing together Imperium or Pantheon. It won’t be like WAR when you had Rabid at your beck and call to clean up and guarantee you the win. It won’t be you coddling David Sanchez and whispering sweet nothings into his ear while you scheme with Jared to get rid of him.
‘It’ll be you walking into almost foreign territory, save for the familiar scent of XIII. When you step through those ropes, you’ll recognize what you’re going up against after those first few exchanges. When I smell blood, I’m going to rip out your heart and seal away your soul. For as much as you’ve wanted to be a killer between those ropes? I’m the real thing, and I’m going to make your glorious return to the ring a horrific nightmare that’ll be run on repeat for as long as you even THINK about coming back into my federation.
‘This isn’t going to be a match. It’s going to be a war. One waged by two juggernauts of their respective lands. I’m Achilles at the gate, spear at the ready, head held proudly as I call for you to emerge and do battle - to suffer defeat honorably and pay your respects towards your better as I decapitate you in front of your dwindled number of true friends and the fans who still remember you at your best. Humiliation isn’t my aim. I don’t want to destroy your legacy - I’m just here to build my own. But when people step in the ring with me? That’s what I do. I embarrass them, I humiliate them, I put them in their place.
‘At XIII, The Pride of Boston walks into Japan and steals The Soul of New York’s Prodigal Son. This is my greatest test to date, the biggest challenge I could’ve asked for, the one I’ve been wanting for almost a year now. There is almost nothing left in this industry that could get me as excited as this, and that’s why I’m going to put on a fuckin’ clinic.
‘You were already dead the moment you signed the contract, you just didn’t know it yet.
‘You’ve paraded your accomplishments around like gold medals around the neck. At XIII, I rip away each and every one of them and as I do so? I take away little bits and pieces of your personality, because wrestling? Winning? It’s all you have, it’s all you’ve ever known, and it’s all your can identify with.
‘That’s why when you’re faced with the real world, you crumble and become half the man you are when inside those ropes. What happens when I inevitably whisk away your legacy and leave you broken and battered inside that ring? What happens when the narrative is turned from “Joey Flash the GOAT!” to “Oh my god, did you see Joey get absolutely dismantled by Lockhart at XIII?”
‘Those are going to be the headlines, Joseph. Everywhere you look, that’s all you see. Alessandra will coddle you at night, stroke your ego, stroke your dick. Hell, maybe you’ll even get a pitiful orgasm out of it as you cry into her chest. And then the next day you’ll wake up, wash your face, look in the mirror…
‘And you’ll see the skeleton that’s left, the only thing that’ll remain after I’ve eviscerated everything else. You’ll question why you even bothered showing up, why you used all your will to climb these steps back up to the pinnacle of greatness and have this grand, legendary showdown with me.
‘One-on-one. No distractions. No interruptions. No interference. Just you and me… to determine who the Greatest of our Generation is. The writing is already on the wall, my track record says it all. You? You’re going to be nothing but a shell of what you once were once I’m through with you, once I’ve helped you experience the difference between our levels and just how much of a gap there is in our abilities. Even in the prime years of your life, you will still fall short to me, and that? It’ll gnaw away at you for ages and ages to come.
‘Don’t be disheartened though. There’s a reason I wanted your head, Joseph. I didn’t just pick you to add another WCF Legend to the list of those I’ve already felled. You were the greatest, you were the best, you were the most exciting, and you laid the blueprint.
‘I’m just here to prove that now? I’m the greatest, I’m the best, I’m the most exciting, and that blueprint? I’ve perfected it and turned it into my own. I’ve created something that can’t be replicated. This meteoric rise to stardom and sustained period at the top is one that most likely will never be repeated in the history of this sport.
‘This match, along with when I inevitably win Wrestler of the Year and reclaim the World Title? It’s going to cap it all off. It’s going to cement everything I’ve done over my short career, and put me in a league of my own. In a World where Alex Richards is beating you into the Hall of Fame… you’re also going to have to live with the fact that you’ll never be regarded as the best again.
‘I wonder how that one will hit the fragile ego.’
A smile from The Greatest.
‘I commend you for accepting my challenge, but it’ll be the last time you get the opportunity to do so. Three fight contract with Creeping Death Promotions? Not likely after they see the condition you’re in once I’m through with you. It was a fun game of cat and mouse, but it’s about time we bring this to an end and settle it once and for all.
‘There will be no rematch, there will be no redemption. At XIII, I tear straight through every last bit of aura and mystique surrounding you. When you step into the ring with anyone else? You’re a mighty God being served a sacrifice.
‘But when you’re in there with me?’
A smirk.
‘You’re just another man.’
I am more broken than Wade.
I am more vile than Jared.
I am more powerful than Flash.
I brought you where you are.
I gave you what you needed.
I made everything possible.
I am your fighting spirit.
I am your darkness.
I am your power.
I know you’re ready, I see the desire in your eyes.
You know you want me.
And you know you need me.
Hold me close, let me touch you.
At XIII, Embrace The Curse.
The arena echoed with the shouting of the crowd, their reactions of surprise and wonder pounding through his skull as he sat up against the guardrail, vision dotted with black spots and blurred from the sting of sweat as it trickled into his eyes.
His forearm went to his eyes, wiping both them and the cascade of dark brown hair that had fallen over his face. With the image clear, he now saw the clouds shatter, the kingdom fall, and his World changed.
Dandy DiVito had won, and he had lost. He, of all people, had lost. Untouched, unfazed throughout all of 2019, and yet here came the inevitable moment that every brave, fighting champion had to face eventually.
Loss.
Pyro went off, the crowds roar reverberated across the stadium, and the view before him burned itself into his mind, a memory that would serve as a constant reminder of what could happen when one over-zealously chased after their wild ambitions.
Those ambitions? Not only etching a legacy into stone, but engraving it deep enough to where it could never fade, no matter what attempted to erode it. The moment Joseph Malignaggi’s music hit, his body, his desire, his passion… none of it allowed him to ignore the challenge.
The fake challenge.
The challenge that didn’t exist.
The match that could never be.
A couple of hours and many ice packs later, a lone camera recorded the scene of the defeated Lockhart, feet kicked up in front of him as he leaned back into the fold-out chair beneath him. A wry smile on the face of the former World Champion.
‘I guess you could say I had it coming, huh?’
A nonchalant shrug.
‘You wouldn’t be wrong. For eight months, I challenged every fuckin’ man and woman on the roster to bring me their best. To give me something worth fighting for. Something to awaken my fighting spirit. I beat the best you had to offer and more, I put it all on the line and when someone came through, convinced they had what it took to dethrone the best wrestler on the planet? I ripped their fuckin’ souls and hearts out and added them to the pile of disheartened victims who came before me.’
A tilt of the head.
‘Until now. Now, everyone I’ve competed against, and everyone still quivering hoping they don’t have to go up against me… they want to see me crumble. You saw it all. Richards. Spencer. TFK. Lissie. Dandy. They see defeat, something I’m not too familiar with, and they’ll be desperate to tear it open. To claim that I’m broken, to suggest that I’ve got nothing left.
‘But I’m The Man Who Had Everything.
‘And now? I want to be The Man Who Defeated The World.
‘The crown I’ve had? It carried with it my pride and will to fight, but eventually? It became hollow. Doing the same thing over and over again became a running joke, a recurring loop that I couldn’t get out of. I had no freedom, no will of my own to do what I wanted. I begged to defend my title every week, they denied me.
‘I begged for them to bring someone capable of beating me without a cheap trick or distraction. Someone like Wade Moor. Someone who had proven they could do it before, someone who would ignite the fire I had been lacking. They denied me.’
A grin, a click of the tongue, and two arms spread to either side.
‘Now? You can’t deny me. There’s nothing left but to accept reality and realize that Action Wrestling? It’s mine. I bring the ratings, I’ve sold out every PPV I’ve headlined, I’ve crafted the beginning of my legendary legacy as the first Action Wrestling Original to hold the World Title, and as the only one to truly breakthrough when surrounded by a group of WCF and UCI veterans who were handed opportunities on silver platters, just like Richards and Spencer were.
‘Action Wrestling… I own it all. And without the World Title weighing me down for the time being? It’s about time I got what I wanted.
‘Soon, I’m going to call Corey Black and make my demand. At XIII, I rip the crown straight off the head of My Ghost In New York, the greatest of WCF’s Modern-Era, one of the few who can claim a record and a list of names superior to my own.
‘Joey… whether you want it or not, I’m making it happen. My entire career has seen me having to force my way into getting what I want, and beating you and shutting down the conversation between which of us is the greatest? That’s the only thing on my mind.
‘There’s a bodybag on deck, but when I decide your time is up? You’re already dead. It’s just a matter of bringing you to me.’
August 19th, 2019.
He knocked on the door, a small vase of blue flowers in his free hand. His right foot tapped against the floor underneath him, and although the weather was cool, his cheeks felt warm. A few moments later, the door swung back to reveal Amber, whose normally slender frame was offset slightly by the small bump along her midsection. Ryan offered up a weak smile, extending the arm out with the flowers.
‘Miss me?’
Her reaction; the lengthy sigh, the reluctant accepting of the flowers, the slow transition into the smile and the welcoming embrace was everything he had hoped for. They stayed there, comfortable in each other’s embrace, until she pulled away.
‘Are you okay? You aren’t hurt?’ she said, her hands moving from his face, to his shoulders, down to his elbows. Upon reaching the latter, he jerked away in an involuntary movement.
‘Of course I’m fuckin’ hurt, I got my ass hurdled for twenty-plus minutes in a ladder match.’ he said, a grin on his face. She laughed, stepping to the side as Ryan made his way into her apartment.
‘Right, right. I should’ve known. It wouldn’t be you if you didn’t destroy yourself to protect that belt.’ she said, although she frowned as she reached the end of the sentence.
‘Does it bother you?’
‘What?’
‘Not being World Champion.’
His gait was uneven as he found the nearest sofa and collapsed onto it back first, eyes up at the dark ceiling.
‘It had to happen eventually. I’m at peace with it.’
‘But it’s all you wanted. From the day we first met… that was your dream.’
‘Yeah, and I lived it. I’m one of the few lucky enough to say that. There’s no regrets. Sooner or later I’ll get my chance to hold it again, and I’ll have to deal with one day dropping it again to someone hungrier, or someone who edged me out on the day. That’s how it works.
‘You of all people should know this is far from the hardest thing I’ve had to go through in my life. I’ll be fine, Amber. Really.’
From where he sat, he could almost hear her exhale of relief, and could visualize the relaxing of the shoulders.
‘Coffee? Food? Have you had anything since you flew back here?’
‘Wine would be good.’
‘Typical.’
‘What can I say? I’m a creature of habit.’ he said, a small smile spreading over his lips. Amber chuckled as she walked over to the kitchen.
‘Since you’re the only one allowed the stuff, I’m gonna have to deny that request.’
‘That’s fair.’
A moment of silence between them as she fumbled between a selection of mugs, eventually picking two and setting the kettle to boil. Her head turned toward him.
‘Have you told anyone yet?’
‘About the kid? Well, yeah. Between the thousands who tune into my promos and all the news joints jumping on it… I’m confident pretty much everyone knows.’
‘Oh, great. Just what I wanted to hear.’
‘I know.’
She sighed, tapping on the counter in front of her as the kettle continued to squeal.
‘What’s your family thinking about it all?’
Ryan let out an abrupt laugh, one that brought a frown on Amber’s face.
‘Louis is supportive, at least. Mom and Uncle Oli think I can barely take care of myself. Which… given my track record, I guess they’re kinda right about.’
She scooped two teaspoons of coffee beans into each of their mugs, and began to tip the boiled water into the mugs. She attempted a light-hearted tone.
‘At least you’ll be able to turn that around with this break you’ve got now.’
Ryan’s head snapped toward her, mouth slightly open in the shape of an oval. He shuffled in his seat, bringing himself up a bit higher and forcing a cough.
‘Uh, yeah… about that… I called Corey Black. We’re trying to make the Flash match happen.’
She stopped, becoming rigid and turning to face him, he could see the disappointment on her face before she had even completed the turn.
‘What happened to waiting until that tournament at the end of the year? You’ve been on the road for months, you barely come here anymore and when you do, it’s to spend time with Louis. Give me something to work with, Ryan. Please.’
He held up his hands in a form of innocence, trying to reassure her with a grin.
‘Hey, hey. It’ll be fine. It won’t be for almost another month, and I’m not scheduled for any matches for the next few weeks. I’ll spend everyday here until I need to fly out, and then I’ll be back the next night.’
Her hands folded over themselves, leaning on the counter behind her.
‘I… I don’t know, I’ve already waited so long. I know this means a lot to you, but can’t it wait?’
He stood up from the couch, wincing in pain from the hurried movement. He paced over to her, grabbing near each of her shoulders and giving them a light squeeze.
‘Listen, this is the last one. This… and Wrestler of the Year. That’s it. After I’ve won both of those, I’m satisfied. I don’t need anything else. I can hang up the boots and call it a day, I’ll have made enough money to last a lifetime and made enough of a legacy to be proud of forever.
‘I know it can wait, I know I can take my time… but I don’t want to. I thought having the belt would be enough, but it wasn’t.’
His eyes widened slightly, mouth forming a thin line until his lips separated.
‘I need this.’
She saw the desperation, the need, the hunger… and she gave in.
‘O-okay, okay. That’s okay. I know how much it means to you, I just wanted you to know how I’m feeling.’
He smiled graciously, giving her a kiss on the forehead.
‘Thank you.’ he said, simply. He returned to the couch, spreading over it and feeling the pain of the last few days subsiding as he sank into the leather beneath him. A glance behind him saw Boston span before his eyes. For the first time in a while, he truly felt relaxed and at peace.
But what would a moment with no conflict be without The Curse nipping at his heels, chewing away at the very fiber of his being.
You lost without me.
I lost by my own choice.
My choice would have been different. We’d still be King.
I’m set on a different crown.
Malignaggi? Hmph. You don’t compare to him. You’ll need me then, too.
Doubtful.
Ryan… I want to help you. But if you don't embrace me, I’ll have to take it by force.
Take what?
Your body.
He sat up, feeling a pain in his chest. He grabbed at his shirt, grimacing. Amber looked over at him, but he shifted himself up to his feet.
‘Everything okay?’
‘Yeah, yeah. I just need a smoke.’
That’s just a warning.
Two statues, each sculpted and grooved to depict two ancient warriors, each donning Corithian-style helmets, large rounded shields, and spears as they faced off against one another in battle. Beneath them, Ryan Lockhart stood at the top of a long path of stone stairs, smiling as he gestures to the figures behind him.
‘It’s time. This is where I end everything. Every comparison, every claim that I’ve ripped you off, every analyst, interviewer, reporter, or fan who’ve suggested that I’m in someway equal or inferior to you. Now? I cut those thoughts into pieces and shred through you in one fell swoop, dispelling all notions that Joey Flash is the greatest.
‘You got that itch again, huh Joey? Good. Let’s fuckin’ scratch it. The last time you came out here pullin’ that same shit, you ended up getting wiped off the face of the Earth by one Noble Savage, the same Noble Savage who headline ONE that year and walked away with the World Title, the same Noble Savage who came into MY federation… and fuckin’ tanked harder than you’d ever believe.
‘Was that when the aura of Joey Flash started to crack, a dent in the armor of an otherwise godly and untouchable figure in this sport? When he couldn’t even get the job done against a C-Tier player in a federation light years beyond what WCF could’ve ever hoped to achieve?
‘No, it wasn’t.’
He shakes his head.
‘A man cannot be defined by one battle, one failure, one loss, one bad judgement or decision. Joey Flash was not broken upon defeat at the hands of Noble Savage.
‘He was already fucked from the very beginning.
‘Every step Flash takes comes with an increasing doubt, a loss of control, moments of doubt, fear and cowardice. You surround yourself in myths and cliches. You can’t be touched. You’re a God walking amongst mere mortals. You’re all-seeing. Punches come at you in slow-motion, your natural predatory instinct and raw fighting ability can’t be matched. You never crumble under the bright lights of the big match, the main-event, the World Title. It all comes naturally, you look demons in the eye and they perish like all the rest.
‘Joey Flash is the perfect specimen.'
A thoughtful frown.
‘But Joseph Malignaggi? Fuck, what a coward.
‘Let’s go man to man here for a moment, Joseph. What fuckin’ man with any form of self-respect would go by the name “Joey” by the way? Pussboi. Anyway, let’s see you for what you really are. While now you stand tall with all your bravado, all your accomplishments, and all the fame and adulation you’ve earned from the fans, prior to any of the success? You were a fuckin’ coward, begging for Dune to give you the attention you desired so badly. You were a serial cheap-shotter who couldn’t go a week without complaining that you weren’t the best. You were hungry, you were defiant, you were angry. You wanted respect, and you got it when you defeated your rival at WAR and got your first World Title.
‘Congratulations. Excellent work. We were all proud of you, Joseph. For all your despicable behavior, you proved time and time again you could get the job done in the ring. That’s what we like to see.
‘If only any of that winner’s mentality was ever present in your real life. Tell me, how does “Joey Flash” go from:
“Bodybags on deck, motherfucker.”
‘To…’
“S-sorry, Al. Please, let me make it up to you. I know I fucked up! Please, you’re the girl of my dre-”
Ryan stops, appearing mockingly disappointment.
‘Grovel some more, why don’t you? It’s what you’re best at. When you’re not being the World Champion or winning WAR, you’re being the mob boss’ daughter’s bitch, even from way back in the day. Looks like some things just don’t change, even when you give them time, huh?
‘For a guy so hellbent on winning, on being the best, you sure like taking second-place where it counts. You were the weak-half of a supposed power couple headlined by Alessandra, and when it came to being a father? All you could see in that kid was her influence, her doing.
“The killer in him is the killer in me?”
‘No. The killer in her. You aren’t a killer, Joey. You’ve never had it in you. You think you do, you want that to be the case, don’t you? You have a desperate, all-devouring need to be in control of situations, in control of your life, to feel as though you have all the power… but you don’t. Even as a time-warping, space-tearing God you still fall victim to the same traps you did when you were just a normal guy who was just good at boxing.
‘Your anxiety, your doubts, your fears, they all come bolting to the surface, faster than any punch you can throw and quicker than you can stop time. Your self-aggrandizing covers up this well, but not to the trained eye. I can already see you in your bathroom, nose bleeding from the near drug-overdoses, repeating to yourself that you’re the best, that you’re the greatest, that nobody can hurt you and that this is your World.
‘But Joseph… let me whisper something in your ear and reveal the truth to you.
‘This isn’t Your World anymore.
‘It’s mine.
‘And it has been from the moment I arrived here in Action Wrestling. I’m the protagonist, the hero and the villain of this story. This federation and the entire World of Wrestling has revolved around me from the moment I got started. While you started slow and built your way up through a meandering Television Title reign, I fired out of the gates and the conversation went from “Wow, Roy Speede and Donald Deruty, huh?” to “Ryan Lockhart, future World Champion and Greatest of All-Time.”
‘That’s the difference between you and I. Rate of progression. You stagnated. You were whisked away into Dune’s shadow. You needed to gain your confidence, as you’ve always had to. You could never come out and saw what you really wanted, you never had the courage to do that.
‘You needed Dune to accept you for your match. You needed Jonny Fly to come out and babysit you before you could really become “The Man”. You’ve always needed direction and guidance from someone else. Me? I entered as a rookie and squared off against a fuckin’ monster in my first ever World Title match… and I got my ass handed to me.
‘Here’s the thing, Joey. For all my bragging, I know where I’ve fallen short. I know when and where I’ve gone. I’m improved more than anyone else in the business ever has, and ever will. I’m the sum of every match I’ve taken part of, every encounter inside and outside of this ring, every failure and every victory. You? You’re a caricature. You’re never your true self.
‘You drop “roasts” and get the “bodybags on deck” one minute, and then the next you’re sobbing and writing tears to little Joey Black, praying for forgiveness and hoping that he one day doesn’t resent you for what you did to his Father. You’re recording videos for Christian Malignaggi, wanting him to understand what type of man you are and why you do the things you do. You’re sorry, you’re upset, you didn’t want things to turn out this wa- shut the fuck up and live with it, bastard.
‘Everyone’s been through shit, everyone’s struggling in some way. You think you’re the only one? You put down every other man’s issues, you ridicule Gemini Battle, you mock those that came before you and those that have attempted to come up after you, yet deep down you’re just like the rest of us. Vulnerable. Breakable. Let’s see what happens when I bend you backwards over my knee and snap you in two, you weak-willed cunt.
‘Oh. I used the word. Am I pandering to your old crowd a bit too much there?
‘If I was… I couldn’t care less, Joseph. I’m the man, now. I do what I want, and what you wish you could’ve done throughout your entire career. I’m the guy who beat Dune and could actually stand after doing so. I’m the guy who has had the most legendary World Title reign in the modern-era, surpassing not only you and Dune, but even The Ghost From New York that you’ve been chasing for how many years now?
‘All you could do was sit there and throw a temper tantrum in his mansion, lighting the match and Reducing It All To Ash, correct? That’s what you do, right? You burned it all down and all the history that came along with it, you released the weight off of your shoul- oh wait, no you didn’t. Because here you are, after all this time…
‘You couldn’t live with your own failure, without being able to ever draw Fly in for the big one, without ever being able to solidify yourself as the best. Then you started seeing me, the next big thing, the one who was slowly but surely creeping up to your level and starting to generate the discussion. You saw your next target, you started to get that “itch” just like you did for the last WAR, and eventually? You came running.
‘Your failure brought you to me, and now? I only send you back with more regrets, more anger, more pain, and even more helplessness when the realization hits you that I’m the type of guy you wish you could be. Free, at peace, uncontrolled by the whims of others and the expectations that are placed on me.
‘The same expectation that eats away at you, Joey. The one you can’t get away from. That’s what keeps bringing you back. The need to fight, the need to be in the one place you feel at home, your sanctuary, your solace, the only place you’re in control.
‘And you’re right. For multiple years, you’ve been in control. You’ve chopped down every competitor in your path and asserted your dominance over a federation that has now had to Bite The Dust. There’ve been few who have been able to match your combination of speed, viciousness and technicality.
‘Until now.
‘Joseph Malignaggi. Meet your Kingslayer. I have all of your abilities and more, but they’ve been honed over the last year and a half while you’ve been sitting at home watching me achieve greatness. There’s nothing you can do that I haven’t seen or studied for.
‘When we step into the ring together, it’ll be the first time you get to do so without being in control. You won’t be the mastermind bringing together Imperium or Pantheon. It won’t be like WAR when you had Rabid at your beck and call to clean up and guarantee you the win. It won’t be you coddling David Sanchez and whispering sweet nothings into his ear while you scheme with Jared to get rid of him.
‘It’ll be you walking into almost foreign territory, save for the familiar scent of XIII. When you step through those ropes, you’ll recognize what you’re going up against after those first few exchanges. When I smell blood, I’m going to rip out your heart and seal away your soul. For as much as you’ve wanted to be a killer between those ropes? I’m the real thing, and I’m going to make your glorious return to the ring a horrific nightmare that’ll be run on repeat for as long as you even THINK about coming back into my federation.
‘This isn’t going to be a match. It’s going to be a war. One waged by two juggernauts of their respective lands. I’m Achilles at the gate, spear at the ready, head held proudly as I call for you to emerge and do battle - to suffer defeat honorably and pay your respects towards your better as I decapitate you in front of your dwindled number of true friends and the fans who still remember you at your best. Humiliation isn’t my aim. I don’t want to destroy your legacy - I’m just here to build my own. But when people step in the ring with me? That’s what I do. I embarrass them, I humiliate them, I put them in their place.
‘At XIII, The Pride of Boston walks into Japan and steals The Soul of New York’s Prodigal Son. This is my greatest test to date, the biggest challenge I could’ve asked for, the one I’ve been wanting for almost a year now. There is almost nothing left in this industry that could get me as excited as this, and that’s why I’m going to put on a fuckin’ clinic.
‘You were already dead the moment you signed the contract, you just didn’t know it yet.
‘You’ve paraded your accomplishments around like gold medals around the neck. At XIII, I rip away each and every one of them and as I do so? I take away little bits and pieces of your personality, because wrestling? Winning? It’s all you have, it’s all you’ve ever known, and it’s all your can identify with.
‘That’s why when you’re faced with the real world, you crumble and become half the man you are when inside those ropes. What happens when I inevitably whisk away your legacy and leave you broken and battered inside that ring? What happens when the narrative is turned from “Joey Flash the GOAT!” to “Oh my god, did you see Joey get absolutely dismantled by Lockhart at XIII?”
‘Those are going to be the headlines, Joseph. Everywhere you look, that’s all you see. Alessandra will coddle you at night, stroke your ego, stroke your dick. Hell, maybe you’ll even get a pitiful orgasm out of it as you cry into her chest. And then the next day you’ll wake up, wash your face, look in the mirror…
‘And you’ll see the skeleton that’s left, the only thing that’ll remain after I’ve eviscerated everything else. You’ll question why you even bothered showing up, why you used all your will to climb these steps back up to the pinnacle of greatness and have this grand, legendary showdown with me.
‘One-on-one. No distractions. No interruptions. No interference. Just you and me… to determine who the Greatest of our Generation is. The writing is already on the wall, my track record says it all. You? You’re going to be nothing but a shell of what you once were once I’m through with you, once I’ve helped you experience the difference between our levels and just how much of a gap there is in our abilities. Even in the prime years of your life, you will still fall short to me, and that? It’ll gnaw away at you for ages and ages to come.
‘Don’t be disheartened though. There’s a reason I wanted your head, Joseph. I didn’t just pick you to add another WCF Legend to the list of those I’ve already felled. You were the greatest, you were the best, you were the most exciting, and you laid the blueprint.
‘I’m just here to prove that now? I’m the greatest, I’m the best, I’m the most exciting, and that blueprint? I’ve perfected it and turned it into my own. I’ve created something that can’t be replicated. This meteoric rise to stardom and sustained period at the top is one that most likely will never be repeated in the history of this sport.
‘This match, along with when I inevitably win Wrestler of the Year and reclaim the World Title? It’s going to cap it all off. It’s going to cement everything I’ve done over my short career, and put me in a league of my own. In a World where Alex Richards is beating you into the Hall of Fame… you’re also going to have to live with the fact that you’ll never be regarded as the best again.
‘I wonder how that one will hit the fragile ego.’
A smile from The Greatest.
‘I commend you for accepting my challenge, but it’ll be the last time you get the opportunity to do so. Three fight contract with Creeping Death Promotions? Not likely after they see the condition you’re in once I’m through with you. It was a fun game of cat and mouse, but it’s about time we bring this to an end and settle it once and for all.
‘There will be no rematch, there will be no redemption. At XIII, I tear straight through every last bit of aura and mystique surrounding you. When you step into the ring with anyone else? You’re a mighty God being served a sacrifice.
‘But when you’re in there with me?’
A smirk.
‘You’re just another man.’
I am more broken than Wade.
I am more vile than Jared.
I am more powerful than Flash.
I brought you where you are.
I gave you what you needed.
I made everything possible.
I am your fighting spirit.
I am your darkness.
I am your power.
I know you’re ready, I see the desire in your eyes.
You know you want me.
And you know you need me.
Hold me close, let me touch you.
At XIII, Embrace The Curse.