Hell is Nothing I'm Not Used To (Hellscape)
Dec 12, 2021 13:54:19 GMT -5
CJ Phoenix and Holden Ross like this
Post by Max f'n Daemon on Dec 12, 2021 13:54:19 GMT -5
Max Daemon is in his training facility giving a series of taped punches to a swinging bag. He mixes in some kicks and knees, but the sweat that pours down his forehead is the real story here.
“How ironic that there’s only one motherfucker in this match who’s actually entered Hell and walked out of it alive.
Don’t get me wrong, the idea of ‘enterin hell’ is a nice concept, one I’m happy ta' formulate, but the only person in this match who can say, with absolute proof, they’ve entered Hell is Addy A.
Yeah, of all people it’s the crass, sexual prick who has found herself more on the downside this year than the up.
It also kinda levels out because the one person in this match with the supposed highest advantage is also the only official Cruiserweight in the match.
And we all know what I think about the Cruiserweights…
Despite Addy’s best efforts, she’s no Teo or Reagan. She wasn’t in Wrestler of the Year, losin out as she has all year to Reagan. She hasn’t won and lost five tag titles. Her only claim ta' fame is beatin Bunga's ass—not really a feat at all—and takin losses to Reagan.
And it’s kinda interestin how after Addy went ta' Hell and came back ta' CruiserClash, she ended up failin. Sure, she had a coupla' wins and losses here and there over paltry talent only put in her path ta' pass her time, but when it mattered most for the Cruiserweight Title?
I know Addy likes dick, but I didn’t think she’d drop the ball herself.
But she’s a violent person so she gets a spot enterin into this buildin Tort has called Hell.
That’s fine.
She’s used ta' failure.
She’s about ta' get used ta' enterin Hell and findin out what it’s like not bein able ta' leave.”
A right fist whiffs the bag. Max collapses to his knees. Doc and Paddy Conlon rush over, helping him to his feet. His vision becomes blurry as he stumbles towards the elevator.
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Max sits in his circular tub, the shower pouring water down on his bare chest and matted hair.
He breathes heavily, coughing a couple times as the migraine starts setting in.
“Holden Ross is an interestin one. David’s given me some time off given all the migraines and sickness I’m goin through right now due ta' stayin clean for the UFC fight, but I’ve talked ta' him about Holden.
The two of ‘em were runnin buddies in Pure Class Wrestling, ya’ see.
Holden was a fine hand, a good companion, and a pretty decent muscle ta' employ.
Unfortunately for Holden, his track record in matches is less than impressive.
But hey, new company new you right? Ya’ won your first match in AW and ya' should be happy about it.
And hey, ya' got a huge opportunity here with Hellscape.
So, congratulations Holden, ya' haven’t been here that long and you’re already gettin opportunities ta' impress the roster and staff of AW.
All that said…disappointment in the game of life.
Holden is a violent person by nature, but when compared ta' Hardcore and Pure Division stalwarts like nearly every other person in the match—don’t worry, we’ll get ta' the other one who isn’t soon—he isn’t on the level of violence he needs ta' be ta' survive.
Addy might have the personal experience ta' try and exit the buildin, but when Holden is compared ta' everybody else? His experience in AW, wrestlin as a whole, and with violence as a concept will be the reason for him not leavin the buildin.
The man has lost enough times in the ring ta' be able to cope.
What’s one more loss ta' add ta' the pile?”
The bathroom door opens, and Doc enters. They turn off the faucet to the showerhead and offer Max a towel. He takes it, just laying it over his body like a corpse at a morgue.
That earns him a sigh and an unseen eyeroll.
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Max sits at the table in the kitchen, cutting a piece of steak off his plate, ignoring the sounds of shouting coming from the upstairs hallway.
He groans, eating his piece of steak, ignoring the pain in his skull.
“Claire Hawkins has been called the ‘GOAT TV Champion’, which is not unlike bein called the ‘GOAT Bronze Medal Winner’ or the ‘GOAT Runner-Up’ or ‘GOAT Understudy.’
Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, eh Claire?
But hey, I’m sure your four reigns as TV Champion will serve ya' in some capacity headin into this match, right?
I mean, ya' haven’t been given a streak of violence on AW television.
Ya' haven’t been known as a violent person in other wrestlin companies.
Ya' certainly haven’t been known as a violent person in general or had the distinct 'pleasure' (note the sarcasm) in havin entered Hell and left it in one piece.
So Claire, tell me, what makes ya' think ya’ve got enough experience ta' leave that buildin on your own two feet, let alone leave it at all?
You’re an AW veteran, sure, but just because ya’ve been here a while doesn’t mean ya’ve proven yourself enough ta' be able to survive. Me, Corey, CJ, and even Dion ta' some degree, have proven themselves ta' be wrestlers who feed off the violence, who use it ta' get better and as catalysts ta' victories.
Claire, ya' can be the most solid wrestler in the world, but even the best wrestlers can fall flat ta' being dumped on the concrete or being thrown through a window.
And trust me, havin experience as TV Champ is not indicative ta' success in the violent ranks AW has held.
So what I’m tryin ta' lead inta' and not just outright say is that every big match like this always has one wrestler who feels out of place, like they haven’t done anythin ta' belong.
Congratulations, you won!
You’re this match’s official filler spot!
Go tell your family and friends (ha!) that you’re a waste of space!
Please don’t die in that buildin. Ya' wouldn’t survive against Raging Dead in Hell.”
There’s stomping down the stairs. Max watches Paddy open the front door and slam it shut. Doc is not too far behind him. They also stomp down the stairs, albeit significantly quieter. They enter the kitchen and look at Max for a few moments before walking towards him.
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Max sits on the toilet seat in the bathroom. The light is, unfortunately, on.
He takes one last look at Doc sleeping in his bed. He lifts his foot, using it to close the door as quietly as he can.
He reaches behind him and flushes the remaining vomit down the toilet.
“Dionysus is an interestin guy.
He’s one of two current champions in the match (for lack of a better term), yet of the two, he’s the one with the least amount of Hardcore or Pure Division matches under his belt.
And yet, Dion is still the most interestin person because he’s the most unpredictable.
He’s the kinda fucker ta' get onta' the roof and jump off it just ta' ensure his victory.
Not that he would (would save us some time and effort though) but it’s just somethin Dion would do.
Which is probably why I’m most lookin forward ta' beatin the shit outta him the most.
Dion isn’t inoffensive like Holden. Nah, Dion existin is enough ta’ piss me off.
Dion isn’t inexperienced like Claire. Nah, Dion has enough ta’ be able to get through this match and not be bleedin out in the boiler room or somethin like that.
Dion isn’t one-dimensional like Addy. Nah, Dion’s a rubix cube of a personality.
Unfortunately, personality and bein interestin won’t be enough ta' fight through four floors just ta' exit out a door.
This match is about violence.
Violence begets violence, ya’ know? And nobody’s more violent in this contest than the final three of us.”
Feeling the urge coming back to him, he gets off the toilet and lifts the lid up, barely making it in time to eliminate the remnants of the steak he had for dinner.
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The kitchen lights are off. The only light shining in is that from the moon.
It doesn't stop the spotlight from shining on the table.
He stares at the glass of whiskey, the half empty cough syrup next to it, and two Advil tablets in the front.
He lifts his left hand up, shaking and fidgeting as he sets it on the table.
“Violence is a temptation.
It’s not somethin that a lot of us crave as much as it's somethin that we adapt ta' once it sets in.
My whole life has been violence, least of all my time in AW. I’ve talked in length about my time in the Pure Division (Pure Cup says hello) and my match at Uprising with Johnny-boy was well documented as a violent affair.
Point is, suffice ta' say I’m used ta' it.
Corey Bull—a guy I’ve beaten, enjoy your soulless retirement tour—has made his career off bein violent and makin people hurt as much as he has. He wasn’t put in that Deathmatch at XIII for nothin, even if the field in the match was weak.
Point is, suffice ta' say he's used ta' it.
CJ Phoenix is the current US Champion, and someone who has more than proven himself in the Hardcore ranks. His match with Johnny-boy at Evolution is still one of the most brutal matches AW's ever seen. He’s grown since, and bein the US Champ is no joke. He beat John Blade, but that's another discussion.
Point is, suffice ta' say he's used ta' it.
So the three of us are the most obvious picks ta' win the match, right?
Ya' would think so, ya' dumb-ass.
Let’s eliminate Corey off the bat. His retirement tour has been less than stellar. I’m sure his goal was ta' come in and walk out of all these matches winners, but there’s spoilers in the mix, and now he’s gotta deal with his tour sellin less and less each week. Don’t worry Corey, I’ll remember ya' fondly once you’re gone.
It’ll be when I’m pukin in the toilet or wipin some shit off my shoe, but hey, at least your memory will live on, right?
Then there’s CJ.
I won’t lie, I am very interested ta' see how this goes. Of all the people in this match, you’re the one I’m most wary of.
Not worried, just wary.
CJ is tough and has experience with violence, but what everybody in this match doesn’t realize is that violence is all I know.
Why do ya' think I’m takin an MMA fight with little experience beyond actually fightin?
It’s not cause I’m stupid or ballsy (though the latter is very much true), it’s because violence is somethin I need.
But CJ…he doesn’t have that same drive as I do. That passion for beatin a motherfucker up and makin ‘em bleed.
That’s the kinda thing ya’ need when ya’ enter a buildin where the whole point is ta’ exit.
You’re the US Champ CJ and I’m happy you’re able ta' enter this match as a champion.
I wonder if me beatin ya’ means I get that shot?
Just somethin ta’ think about while I’m throwin ya’ over some stairs.”
The light in the kitchen turns on.
Max’s hand twitches. He groans as he adjusts to it, but otherwise doesn’t move.
Once his sight returns, he hears the table being cleared.
The first thing he sees is Doc in one of his shirts that are too big for them and some sweatpants pouring the glass, the bottle of whisky, and what’s left of the cough syrup down the drain.
They walk back over to Max, pulling him close to their chest.
He closes his eyes and allows their hands sifting through his hair to try and ease the pain.
“How ironic that there’s only one motherfucker in this match who’s actually entered Hell and walked out of it alive.
Don’t get me wrong, the idea of ‘enterin hell’ is a nice concept, one I’m happy ta' formulate, but the only person in this match who can say, with absolute proof, they’ve entered Hell is Addy A.
Yeah, of all people it’s the crass, sexual prick who has found herself more on the downside this year than the up.
It also kinda levels out because the one person in this match with the supposed highest advantage is also the only official Cruiserweight in the match.
And we all know what I think about the Cruiserweights…
Despite Addy’s best efforts, she’s no Teo or Reagan. She wasn’t in Wrestler of the Year, losin out as she has all year to Reagan. She hasn’t won and lost five tag titles. Her only claim ta' fame is beatin Bunga's ass—not really a feat at all—and takin losses to Reagan.
And it’s kinda interestin how after Addy went ta' Hell and came back ta' CruiserClash, she ended up failin. Sure, she had a coupla' wins and losses here and there over paltry talent only put in her path ta' pass her time, but when it mattered most for the Cruiserweight Title?
I know Addy likes dick, but I didn’t think she’d drop the ball herself.
But she’s a violent person so she gets a spot enterin into this buildin Tort has called Hell.
That’s fine.
She’s used ta' failure.
She’s about ta' get used ta' enterin Hell and findin out what it’s like not bein able ta' leave.”
A right fist whiffs the bag. Max collapses to his knees. Doc and Paddy Conlon rush over, helping him to his feet. His vision becomes blurry as he stumbles towards the elevator.
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Max sits in his circular tub, the shower pouring water down on his bare chest and matted hair.
He breathes heavily, coughing a couple times as the migraine starts setting in.
“Holden Ross is an interestin one. David’s given me some time off given all the migraines and sickness I’m goin through right now due ta' stayin clean for the UFC fight, but I’ve talked ta' him about Holden.
The two of ‘em were runnin buddies in Pure Class Wrestling, ya’ see.
Holden was a fine hand, a good companion, and a pretty decent muscle ta' employ.
Unfortunately for Holden, his track record in matches is less than impressive.
But hey, new company new you right? Ya’ won your first match in AW and ya' should be happy about it.
And hey, ya' got a huge opportunity here with Hellscape.
So, congratulations Holden, ya' haven’t been here that long and you’re already gettin opportunities ta' impress the roster and staff of AW.
All that said…disappointment in the game of life.
Holden is a violent person by nature, but when compared ta' Hardcore and Pure Division stalwarts like nearly every other person in the match—don’t worry, we’ll get ta' the other one who isn’t soon—he isn’t on the level of violence he needs ta' be ta' survive.
Addy might have the personal experience ta' try and exit the buildin, but when Holden is compared ta' everybody else? His experience in AW, wrestlin as a whole, and with violence as a concept will be the reason for him not leavin the buildin.
The man has lost enough times in the ring ta' be able to cope.
What’s one more loss ta' add ta' the pile?”
The bathroom door opens, and Doc enters. They turn off the faucet to the showerhead and offer Max a towel. He takes it, just laying it over his body like a corpse at a morgue.
That earns him a sigh and an unseen eyeroll.
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Max sits at the table in the kitchen, cutting a piece of steak off his plate, ignoring the sounds of shouting coming from the upstairs hallway.
He groans, eating his piece of steak, ignoring the pain in his skull.
“Claire Hawkins has been called the ‘GOAT TV Champion’, which is not unlike bein called the ‘GOAT Bronze Medal Winner’ or the ‘GOAT Runner-Up’ or ‘GOAT Understudy.’
Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, eh Claire?
But hey, I’m sure your four reigns as TV Champion will serve ya' in some capacity headin into this match, right?
I mean, ya' haven’t been given a streak of violence on AW television.
Ya' haven’t been known as a violent person in other wrestlin companies.
Ya' certainly haven’t been known as a violent person in general or had the distinct 'pleasure' (note the sarcasm) in havin entered Hell and left it in one piece.
So Claire, tell me, what makes ya' think ya’ve got enough experience ta' leave that buildin on your own two feet, let alone leave it at all?
You’re an AW veteran, sure, but just because ya’ve been here a while doesn’t mean ya’ve proven yourself enough ta' be able to survive. Me, Corey, CJ, and even Dion ta' some degree, have proven themselves ta' be wrestlers who feed off the violence, who use it ta' get better and as catalysts ta' victories.
Claire, ya' can be the most solid wrestler in the world, but even the best wrestlers can fall flat ta' being dumped on the concrete or being thrown through a window.
And trust me, havin experience as TV Champ is not indicative ta' success in the violent ranks AW has held.
So what I’m tryin ta' lead inta' and not just outright say is that every big match like this always has one wrestler who feels out of place, like they haven’t done anythin ta' belong.
Congratulations, you won!
You’re this match’s official filler spot!
Go tell your family and friends (ha!) that you’re a waste of space!
Please don’t die in that buildin. Ya' wouldn’t survive against Raging Dead in Hell.”
There’s stomping down the stairs. Max watches Paddy open the front door and slam it shut. Doc is not too far behind him. They also stomp down the stairs, albeit significantly quieter. They enter the kitchen and look at Max for a few moments before walking towards him.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Max sits on the toilet seat in the bathroom. The light is, unfortunately, on.
He takes one last look at Doc sleeping in his bed. He lifts his foot, using it to close the door as quietly as he can.
He reaches behind him and flushes the remaining vomit down the toilet.
“Dionysus is an interestin guy.
He’s one of two current champions in the match (for lack of a better term), yet of the two, he’s the one with the least amount of Hardcore or Pure Division matches under his belt.
And yet, Dion is still the most interestin person because he’s the most unpredictable.
He’s the kinda fucker ta' get onta' the roof and jump off it just ta' ensure his victory.
Not that he would (would save us some time and effort though) but it’s just somethin Dion would do.
Which is probably why I’m most lookin forward ta' beatin the shit outta him the most.
Dion isn’t inoffensive like Holden. Nah, Dion existin is enough ta’ piss me off.
Dion isn’t inexperienced like Claire. Nah, Dion has enough ta’ be able to get through this match and not be bleedin out in the boiler room or somethin like that.
Dion isn’t one-dimensional like Addy. Nah, Dion’s a rubix cube of a personality.
Unfortunately, personality and bein interestin won’t be enough ta' fight through four floors just ta' exit out a door.
This match is about violence.
Violence begets violence, ya’ know? And nobody’s more violent in this contest than the final three of us.”
Feeling the urge coming back to him, he gets off the toilet and lifts the lid up, barely making it in time to eliminate the remnants of the steak he had for dinner.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The kitchen lights are off. The only light shining in is that from the moon.
It doesn't stop the spotlight from shining on the table.
He stares at the glass of whiskey, the half empty cough syrup next to it, and two Advil tablets in the front.
He lifts his left hand up, shaking and fidgeting as he sets it on the table.
“Violence is a temptation.
It’s not somethin that a lot of us crave as much as it's somethin that we adapt ta' once it sets in.
My whole life has been violence, least of all my time in AW. I’ve talked in length about my time in the Pure Division (Pure Cup says hello) and my match at Uprising with Johnny-boy was well documented as a violent affair.
Point is, suffice ta' say I’m used ta' it.
Corey Bull—a guy I’ve beaten, enjoy your soulless retirement tour—has made his career off bein violent and makin people hurt as much as he has. He wasn’t put in that Deathmatch at XIII for nothin, even if the field in the match was weak.
Point is, suffice ta' say he's used ta' it.
CJ Phoenix is the current US Champion, and someone who has more than proven himself in the Hardcore ranks. His match with Johnny-boy at Evolution is still one of the most brutal matches AW's ever seen. He’s grown since, and bein the US Champ is no joke. He beat John Blade, but that's another discussion.
Point is, suffice ta' say he's used ta' it.
So the three of us are the most obvious picks ta' win the match, right?
Ya' would think so, ya' dumb-ass.
Let’s eliminate Corey off the bat. His retirement tour has been less than stellar. I’m sure his goal was ta' come in and walk out of all these matches winners, but there’s spoilers in the mix, and now he’s gotta deal with his tour sellin less and less each week. Don’t worry Corey, I’ll remember ya' fondly once you’re gone.
It’ll be when I’m pukin in the toilet or wipin some shit off my shoe, but hey, at least your memory will live on, right?
Then there’s CJ.
I won’t lie, I am very interested ta' see how this goes. Of all the people in this match, you’re the one I’m most wary of.
Not worried, just wary.
CJ is tough and has experience with violence, but what everybody in this match doesn’t realize is that violence is all I know.
Why do ya' think I’m takin an MMA fight with little experience beyond actually fightin?
It’s not cause I’m stupid or ballsy (though the latter is very much true), it’s because violence is somethin I need.
But CJ…he doesn’t have that same drive as I do. That passion for beatin a motherfucker up and makin ‘em bleed.
That’s the kinda thing ya’ need when ya’ enter a buildin where the whole point is ta’ exit.
You’re the US Champ CJ and I’m happy you’re able ta' enter this match as a champion.
I wonder if me beatin ya’ means I get that shot?
Just somethin ta’ think about while I’m throwin ya’ over some stairs.”
The light in the kitchen turns on.
Max’s hand twitches. He groans as he adjusts to it, but otherwise doesn’t move.
Once his sight returns, he hears the table being cleared.
The first thing he sees is Doc in one of his shirts that are too big for them and some sweatpants pouring the glass, the bottle of whisky, and what’s left of the cough syrup down the drain.
They walk back over to Max, pulling him close to their chest.
He closes his eyes and allows their hands sifting through his hair to try and ease the pain.