T h e n , N o w , F o r e v e r II
Jan 26, 2019 8:41:54 GMT -5
Torture, Alexander Pasternak, and 2 more like this
Post by Lockhart on Jan 26, 2019 8:41:54 GMT -5
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“You try and mask your pain in, the most postmodern way.”~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
#BeachXclusive
9th of August, 2015.
A twenty-year old sat nonchalantly at a bar, unwrapping tape from his fists that revealed knuckles that were bruised dark purple. He reached a bag of ice to press down on his pained hands.
He looked at the moderate sum of bank notes that lay on the bar in front of him, and he exhaled in contentment. That would be enough to carry him through the week, and then it would be back to the grind. Back to prizefighting in order to live a somewhat decent life, whatever the fuck that meant.
‘Here, kid. It’s on the house - not everyday we see such a good performance. I’d expect nothing less from a Lockhart.’
The bartender grinned at him, a sight that would have been charming had the man possessed all his pearly whites. He slid Ryan a large mug of beer, which he stopped with his forearm. The man knew he wasn’t twenty-one, but he didn’t mind. After all, Ryan was part of the reason business was booming.
Ryan sipped on the beer and screamed internally - he hated the taste. To sooth his discomfort, he stretched his hand and began to file through the bank notes, figuring out soon enough that he had made three-hundred. Not enough for cheap drugs, food, and a room for a few nights… but enough for at least two of the three. He’d crash at a friends place for the week.
He glanced up at the television behind the bar and saw a wrestling match playing out. He couldn’t recognize the people competing, but he knew enough about the federation. Who didn’t? WCF had been a mainstay and helped developed not only wrestling as a whole, but bred some of the most talented and popular figures in the world. The bartender noted the direction of his gaze, and leaned toward him.
‘Didn’t know you still kept up with the wrestling, kid. It’s been getting pretty wild lately. Flash, Fly and Lerch have all joined forces, it’s almost unfair.’
Fly, Flash. His interest was captured by those names.
‘You know, if you actually gave a damn about fighting professionally, you could’ve been in their spot. Your old man even thought so.’
Ryan bit the inside of his lip. That struck a nerve.
‘How’s he been doing by the way? Hasn’t been around much recently.’
‘You know how he is, Ricky. Always busy doing something… even if it’s starting to take its toll on him now.’ he said, managing a weak smile.
‘Well, at least he hasn’t changed. I’ll tell you, your dad used to have one hell of a right hand. A shame you weren’t given the same gift.’ he said, slapping Ryan on the shoulder and chuckling.
‘For what he had in power, I’ve got in agility. I’ve been leaving all your regulars in the dust, old man.’
The two shared a laugh. Once they both quietened down, Ricky gave him a knowing look.
‘I’ll see you here next week, I suppose?’
He nodded.
‘Alright then. Well, stay safe out there kid. You know you can always give me a call if you need somewhere to crash, yeah?’
It was a relatively sad existence, only made more depressing by the fact that practically everyone around him knew about it. Ryan Lockhart was a fighter, a cocaine addict, a party boy who had about as many deep, dark lows as he had euphoric highs. This was what he had been confined to. There was no self-loathing, just self-awareness. He knew only the thrill of the fight gave him natural life nowadays.
Ryan’s eyes shot back to the screen and saw that the match was over, and that the victors were being assaulted by three men. Two of them caught his eye.
The bearded man had a look that Ryan knew all too well - one of a true, cold-blooded killer, one that he hid behind a smile as he helped demolish the two unfortunate victims in the ring.
The masked man held within him a different kind of confidence. A swagger, if you will. But behind that, his stride also carried a sense of purpose, like he was part of something much greater than mere wrestling.
Ryan would come to know of these men as Wade Moor and Jared Holmes. He couldn’t relate to them exactly, but something about them resonated deeply. All three wore a “mask” of some sort, and it was only a matter of time before they each withdrew them to show The World who they really were.
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NarrationThe modern phenomenon known #BeachKrew arrived on the scene at WCF in 2015, and debuted as a small, tight-knit unit featuring Jared Holmes (formerly referred to as Los Tiburones), Wade Moor and Andre Aquarius. Along with them, Hunter Updegraff and Hacksaw Jim Thuggin watched from above (#WatchTheSkies), ensuring that they would achieve things that few others could lay claim to.
Since then much has been achieved and changed. The #BeachKrew being a landscape that has evolved as time has gone on. If you go back far enough, you may even find the times where they welcomed various outcasts and exiles who were deemed untalented, but perhaps had something within them that could be proven as worthwhile (see: Kyle Kemp).
However, times have changed, and the #BeachKrew has returned to its roots. In the NOW, in the present-day, only the best may walk these halls which have been bleached clean by the #BeachKrew, who carry forth with the #fuccboigenocide that was introduced years ago by the two constants in the faction - Jared Holmes and Wade Moor.
Enter Ryan Lockhart and Alexander Pasternak, who display everything necessary to represent the #BeachKrew. Young, hungry, damaged… and a desire to destroy - although it cannot be told yet if that destruction is directed towards others or themselves.
The need for destruction is something that each of the men have felt and demonstrated at one point or another. It has mangled and contorted the men into the way they are now, and it is why they are the men who are deemed worthy of the prophecy which is seemingly on its last legs.
This need is what makes them dangerous, and is why they return in another iteration, prepared to lay waste to everything before them.
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"Am I a liar?"
A camera is centered on Ryan, who is seated in a luxury black velvet armchair. On a wooden coffee table in front of him rests the World Heavyweight Title, and a lowball glass filled about a third of the way with a dark hued whiskey and a block of ice. From off-camera, we hear a voice.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
‘Welcome to part two of the Then, Now, Forever documentary. Max Kellerman here, and today I’ll be stepping away from the boxing ring to speak to current AW World Champion, Ryan Lockhart. He, along with the #BeachKrew will be competing against #FightSmart and Torture at Revolution II on January 27th. Let’s get to it, shall we?’
‘Sure thing.’
‘You’re coming off a red hot 2018, arguably the greatest rookie year in the history of the sport. What helped you develop at such a rapid rate, and how have you dealt with the jump to superstardom?'
Ryan grins.
‘Honestly? I’m just fuckin’ better than everyone. I won’t lie, Max. I could sit here and say that I had more to prove than other people, that I wanted it more than the rest… but that’s not how it went. I developed quickly due to just being that damn good, and having that much talent.
‘I’m not some raw kid coming in at eighteen, nineteen or twenty who can’t handle the fame or the pressure. I’ve been through the fuckin’ ringer all my life. I’ve been beat up, put down, all of it. I’ve struggled, and I’ve succeeded too. I knew what it would take to be the best wrestler on the planet, and now here I am.’
He grabs the whiskey and sips on it.
‘You had a lot of people doubting whether you could live up to the hype that surrounded you. By winning the World Title, do you feel validated? Like you’ve proved them wrong?’
A laugh from Ryan behind hollow eyes.
‘No. I don’t feel validated. I want every fuckin’ belt in the federation. I wanted to defend my belt at every show in January, but Torture and management were too fuckin’ shook to even allow me to do that - they knew I’d tear through every “contender” and leave them with none left to challenge me. But even now?
‘There’s nothing. No-one. Fuck, I pretty much directly challenged the US Champ and he went into hiding. Kyle Kemp is trembling at the thought of me beating him for what… the fourth time? Lincoln got put in his place once and since then has done nothing but try to poke and prod at me to no avail. While I went out and effortlessly captured the World TItle, that bum has done nothing but complain, and now he’s out here trying to come clean and improve himself like he’s going through a midlife crisis or some shit.
‘The state of this place is pathetic. I don’t care what people or the rest of the locker room think of me. I’m here to dominate, and I’m being denied by each and every coward in the back, and more notably… each coward making up the management team here at Action Wrestling, including Torture.’
His eyes are on the belt now.
‘There is no satisfaction. There is no being content. I’m hungry, Max. I’m ready to fuckin’ explode. I feel lethal. I’m going to rip all of them into shreds.’
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"I'm scared of dying."
Jim Thuggin watched Jared Holmes and Wade Moor with dead eyes as they sat in the back of (one of?) Jared’s Los Angeles mansions. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
‘Lockhart, huh? You think he’s next up, Wade?’
‘I know a killer when I see one.’
‘So you think the whole Curse thing is legit?’
Wade nods, smiling.
‘No doubt. It’s hidden away in somewhere… it nearly came out during our match. It’s rare someone pushes me to the limit the way he did.’
Holmes looks down to his phone, unconvinced. Thuggin takes one powerful stride forward, garnering the attention of both men. His smile borders upon evil.
‘The Cursed Earth Child would make a great addition. I can guarantee it. Perhaps I can do something about this “hidden” potential.’
Jared glances back at his phone, although his normally wavering levels of interest are piqued at the possibility of another killer being added to the ranks. Wade simply smiles.
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"This conversation's not about reciprocation no more."
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‘You and Lincoln have been vocal toward each other throughout 2018, tell us about that dynamic.’~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ryan smirks and shakes his head sadly.
‘Lincoln and I started in the company at around a similar time. After our first couple of months, there were plenty of expectations set upon us.
‘The difference? I lived up to the hype . While Lincoln settled for getting verbally murdered by ZMAC and capturing TV Gold, I went straight for the World Title without fear. When he failed, he became flustered and blame the company and everyone else rather than his own incompetence. I owned up to my faults and improved drastically.
‘When we faced off, he attacked my lifestyle.. He knew he had no other targets. I was his greatest challenge, and I was his greatest setback. He hasn’t been the same since I eviscerated him.
‘He’s aware that I’ll always be his superior. As long as I’m around? He’ll never be regarded as the best. It’s not in his DNA. This is as far as he goes.’
He pauses, lifting his glass of whiskey and sipping again.
‘Did his insults about your way of life frustrate you? Get in your head, perhaps?’
‘No. I’m comfortable in my own skin. I only change for myself. Lincoln has never experienced that level of confidence in oneself, and that’s why he’s sitting here before all of you telling you that he wants to be a better man, and that he’s on a journey for self-improvement.
‘But that’s not you, Lincoln. It’s fake. You’re trying to be someone you’re not because you think it’ll help you become a better competitor. You’re an insecure little boy. A lapdog who has lost his way and is looking to big daddy Spencer for guidance. Off yourself, you rat.’
‘I couldn’t give a single fuck if you thought of me as a lesser man because of my habits. That’s where we differ. How other people see me? It doesn’t impact me like it does to you. Your entire livelihood, your performance, it all relies on other people gassing you up and making you feel better about your shitty, insignificant existence.
‘You’ll never beat me, and you’ll never be better than me. Accept it and move on.’
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When Wade and Jared entered Ryan’s apartment, he felt the air thicken with the presence of the two men monsters that had come into his space. However, rather than discomfort or a trembling fear enveloping him, Ryan felt excitement.The look Jared gave him was uncaring, yet his eyes were still observant. He looked him up and down, and then nodded toward the sunglasses that Ryan had hung over his buttoned shirt.
‘Are those designer?’
Thrown off by the question, Ryan said nothing as Wade interjected.
‘It’s about time, Ryan. Have you thought on our offer?’
Ryan’s gaze switched between the two, his respect for one being through their battles, while the respect for the other being through tales of destruction and fear. Wade smiled at him.
‘You know you belong, Ryan. You’re one of us. You’ve got that same itch, we can tell.’
He didn’t need convincing, he had made up his mind. It was meant to be.
‘Let’s bring them hell.’
Jared’s eyes widened in a manner that was hardly noticeable, he hadn’t expected such a cold tone from Ryan. Wade felt his gut turn in anticipation - his instincts had been correct.
Jim Thuggin stood upon Ryan’s apartment balcony hidden from view, a thin smile at his lips.
‘The Chosen One. The Leviathan. The Curse. It’s more perfect than I could have imagined.
‘Now, to find the remaining Earth Child.’
He disappeared from view entirely, as Wade and Jared took their leave. Ryan stood, but he was quivering. He had never felt so alive.
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"You're cold and I burn."
When we return to the interview, Ryan’s glass is now empty.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
‘You’ve also had your battles with Spencer and Kyle Kemp. Your thoughts on what they’ll bring to War Games?’
Ryan sighed, and looks somewhere off-camera.
‘Someone bring me a smoke.
‘When Spencer brought together #FightSmart, people saw a force that no-one would be able to take out. They saw the numbers, they saw Spencer with the World Title, and they saw the “camaraderie” that the members had between one another, and they shit themselves.
‘Wade Moor and I were the only people who didn’t give a fuck about #FightSmart banding together. While others fled or cowered, I saw a group that I would systematically tear down… and that’s exactly what I’ve done, Max.
‘Look at the record books. I’ve never lost to #FightSmart. No matter what combination of people they’ve thrown at me, I have sent them all packing and then some. It doesn’t matter if they’ve cheated, or if they’ve had the numbers advantage, I have murdered them at every turn and left them questioning whether or not they even stand a chance against me.
‘Brooke Bell, Lincoln, SJW, Kemp, Spence, none of them have been able to stop me or the path I’ve carved to the World Title.
‘Poor fuckin’ Spencer. He’s clueless. He’s idiotically written me off each time he’s stepped up to face me. His arrogance has allowed him to spout off brain dead lines such as me being a great potential “United States Champion that the people can get behind”... but the fact of the matter is? I have surpassed him in every way since I got here, and I am continuing to distance myself from him with each match that I win.
‘I am a purebred winner, no question about it. Spencer is a journeyman, he has suffered through so many defeats and failures and still manages to be a slightly above-average performer with a decent amount of accolades. When I’ve lost? I’ve killed myself for it. I’ve blamed no-one but myself. I’ve improved my skills ten-fold. Spencer? He is incapable of evolving his abilities the way that I can, he is incapable of adapting.
‘Just take a look at his crumbling stable. He sees the scene around him shifting and yet he remains complacent, simply hoping for the best and praying that we don’t decide to snuff him and his little crew of bitches into oblivion.
‘Sorry to break it to you Spence… but we aren’t messing around. This is our federation, and you’ve done nothing but tried to stop the inevitable. You couldn’t stop me from winning All-In, you couldn’t stop Wade from winning Wrestler of the Year, and you couldn’t stop me from winning the World TItle.
‘Fuck, you even failed to take out OG #BeachKrew, and you even let them fuck around in your own damn federation. This isn’t just a losing battle you’re fighting here, Spence… it’s a downright annihilation that you’re no longer able to even put the damage control on. You’re finished.’
An attendant hands him an already lit cigarette. He takes a drag and exhaling the smoke into the air above him.
‘Kemp? He’s even worse. Like Lincoln, he’s let it be known that he doesn’t believe in my hype, that he thinks he’s better than me, and that I’m not worthy of my position in the federation… and I have shut him down each and every time.
‘I eclipsed him mere months into my career and he’s been left damaged by the fact ever since. How would you feel if you put years into something, and then a prodigy like me comes in and beats everything you’ve ever done in mere months?
‘It’s a story that has been told countless times, but Kemp is a spineless rat with no dignity or respect for himself. His biggest claim to fame is that he won another man the World Title, and has since done nothing with his career. Now he’s our personal whipping boy. Wade and I casually slap this punk down each time he steps up to the plate, and he still hasn’t shown any improvement or willingness to break free from this cycle that destroys him both physically and mentally.
‘I almost feel. At one point in his career, he was showing steady improvement. But now? He’s stagnated. He’s never been able to function without someone better than him taking him to the promised land. Back when that person was John Rabid? All was good and well. John was a transcendent talent and a dominant champion. But that person now is Spencer Adams… a man who he was once direct rivals with.
‘That’s some of the biggest cuck shit I’ve ever witnessed in my life. It’s on the same level as Kevin Durant. You couldn’t best the barely above average scrap of shit in Spence, so you joined forces and are still achieving absolutely nothing.
‘Myself and the rest of the #BeachKrew are going to destroy you once again, Kemp. We will learn nothing new from this encounter. Everything will remain the same, and you will still be the same inept cunt that I beat at Evolution all that time ago.
‘You want to try and play the same game as Lincoln and better yourself? Give it your best shot. You’ve tried to play both sides of the fence by being the “good guy” and the “bad boy” before and nothing has changed no matter what you’ve attempted.
‘Stop being a fuckin’ pussy and be true to yourself. Show us who you really are, and what you’re made of. Take the fight to me and get out from underneath Spencer’s shadow and challenge me for this damn belt. Do something before I take your fuckin’ head off and parade it around Madison Square Garden, you weak-willed pile of trash.’
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It is night and Ryan is alone, staring into the camera. ‘Torture, I’m talking to you personally now. Not behind a question from an interview, or behind my World Title. I want you to see the truth, I want you to understand, and I want you to know what’s coming your way at Revolution II.
‘You took a chance on signing me here. You didn’t have to give me the shot. I didn’t have the credentials of a Donald Deruty for instance. But you brought me in, you had faith when few did.
‘But you overlooked something, Torture. Underneath all the talent and confidence… I’m a truth teller, I’m one of the realest people you’ll ever have to deal with. I saw how you screwed Wade over, and how you dealt me the same hand when I tried to cash-in all that time ago.
‘You don’t give a fuck about the people or what they really want. You have your agenda, and right now you see a threat in the #BeachKrew. You’re worried, you see the walls crumbling and you realize that the moment Wade and Alexander decide to set their sight on a belt each? It’s all over for the parity in Action Wrestling.
‘There will be no fuckin’ equality here. The time for that came and went after you screwed both myself and Wade out of the World Title. We came back, and we wanted to take it all. And that’s exactly what we’re about to do.
‘You’re not like Spencer’s piss poor excuse of a stable. While I won’t be complacent and make stupid errors against them… you’re a whole different beast, even if you’re not in your prime. I’m not ignorant, Torture. I’ve seen what you’re capable of. An all-time great who has not only dominated the competition during his era, but has also given opportunities to a whole new generation of wrestlers who may not have had a chance otherwise.
‘But that’s where respect ends, and when instincts start to kick in. I’m a different fuckin’ beast. Even more than the relics of your time. Logan? Corey Black? Once we share that cage, you’ll wish you could go back to that bygone era.
‘You’ll wish that you let fate run its course. You knew I would end up World Champion, but you still tried to delay it. Why? I will never know. Envy? Drama? Ratings? Maybe after we’ve spilled blood inside that cage, you’ll gather the courage to face me like a man and tell me the goddamn truth.
‘But until then… know that there is no victory for you here. There will be no heroic moment. No legendary throwback to the past Torture, the World Champion Torture. There will just be a weakened old man who is no doubt dangerous… but not enough to overcome this new wave.
‘Wave alert, Torture. #BeachKrew is coming through, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.’
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"But I crumble completely when you cry."
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The World Champion joined them and watched intently, taking it all in.
Let the cage shut. Let them bring war. And watch them fail.
For here were four men with glory and destruction on their mind, and nothing else.
Nothing.