Gods and Kings Part 1- Lost Faith
Nov 21, 2019 18:13:23 GMT -5
Shadowlove, Frank Venable, and 1 more like this
Post by Teo Blaze on Nov 21, 2019 18:13:23 GMT -5
A crash of static, a roar of sound in the darkness, and you find yourself in the realm of the King.
Teo Blaze, the man himself, staring through your Television screen, red and gold lenses shining in the void, a devilish grin on his face.
“Well. Isn’t this quite the surprise.
Are you there, Corey? It’s me, Teo.
I’m offering a prayer to the man made ‘god.’
For you see, I have lost my faith.”
Ever wider grows the grin as Teo’s head cocks slightly to the side, a flash of light echoing crossing over the lenses, one after the other. A glint in a demon’s gaze.
“How I wish I could believe, dear Corey. I’ve heard the legends, I’ve seen the films. The man who carries fear in one hand and hate in the other. Dual weapons against any who should incur the wrath of the man known only as Corey Black.
It is a good story, the kind of tale you would offer up to keep a naughty child on the right side of the tracks...but like so many of our childhood tales, well...it doesn’t exactly hold up to scrutiny, does it?”
A look of mock sadness creeps over Teo’s face, but the same glint is present beneath the surface, that glimmer of light in the darkness.
“I know what you’re thinking, that I’m about to pick apart your legacy. Unfold a library of your greatest hits and try to say that they weren’t all that impressive.
But would you take me for such a fool? Do you think I would dare try to unravel your legacy like an intricately wrapped mummy, and expose the stench beneath?
Oh no, Corey, there will be no such kindness here. For you see, the more that I watch you, and the more sand flows through that hourglass, the more I realize just how desperately you cling, how feverishly you grasp at the past. Each moment pressed tightly in a bottle, crystallized and preserved, your arms so full. So desperate for us to remember, to acknowledge what you were.”
Teo’s eyes narrow on the final word, considering it as it escapes from his lips, turning it over on his tongue as he considers the implication.
“And I do not use the past tense lightly. For you see, I want to believe in Corey Black, I want to believe in the man made god, but time and time again you show us just how human you really are.
You are a broken record of a human being, a catchphrase spewing machine who is running on fumes at best. Truth be told this match even being allowed borders on reprehensible, given how shattered your frame is after being thrashed by Walter.
Though even before the damage that was done to your skull, I figure it only prescient to point out that your mind has not been operating at full capacity.
‘The Execution of Kyle Kemp, the Execution of Alex Richards, the Execution of Hollywood, the Execution of Thad’...
I hope that you’re getting a writer’s credit, because that kind of creativity is once in a lifetime.”
A laugh in the darkness, as Teo shakes his head scornfully. Though he speaks with amusement, the look on his face can only be described as one of pure disgust.
“Let me make this as clear as I possibly can, Corey, because I know that you are dying to respond. People give a damn about who you are. You’ve been given chances other men would kill for and you’ve squandered more opportunities than many ever get. No matter where you go or what you do, people will recognize you based on what you have accomplished.
And the reason that you have faltered is just that- you have begun to believe it.
You have taken the unconditional praise to heart, the warm embrace of delusion your only comfort as your body slowly begins to fail.
All men fight, Corey, and you may believe that you can fight harder than anyone.
But even gods must fall to time.”
As Teo speaks, he reaches down off camera to retrieve something, speaking as he does so.
“Corey, I have received no warm embrace from any company I have been in. As much as people like to beat the drum about being handed opportunities, the fact is that I have had to fight for everything I have had since day one in this business.
David Sanchez made me bleed, Kyle Kemp made me cry, and Dune made me know pain unlike I have ever felt.
What can you possibly do to me that they could not?
Yet you look past me. You refuse to see what I am capable of.
And that’s alright.
It is something I have lived with my entire life. Doubt. Fear. The unknown.”
Teo slowly lifts the object into view. It is a jet black hourglass, filled to the brim with purple sand. As it comes into view it becomes clear that the sand has been flowing for a very long time.
“I am the worst case scenario for you, Corey Black. I am no monster like Walter, I’m not even a phenom like Kemp.
I’m just a tough, tough bastard who doesn’t know when to quit.
And you will not have an answer for that.”
As Teo considers the sand in the hourglass, his mind seems to drift away for only a moment.
“And I know that there’s a third man in the ring. Deja vu, no?
I beat Johnny Stylez clean as a sheet, and I must have put on quite a show in the process, because they want me to do it again.
Second verse, same as the first. But I’ll have more later.
I will walk out of Turmoil with that Hardcore Championship slung over my shoulder, make no doubts about it.
No hyperbole, no grandstanding.
You may be willing to kill for this business, Corey.
But I am willing to die for it.”
Teo Blaze, the man himself, staring through your Television screen, red and gold lenses shining in the void, a devilish grin on his face.
“Well. Isn’t this quite the surprise.
Are you there, Corey? It’s me, Teo.
I’m offering a prayer to the man made ‘god.’
For you see, I have lost my faith.”
Ever wider grows the grin as Teo’s head cocks slightly to the side, a flash of light echoing crossing over the lenses, one after the other. A glint in a demon’s gaze.
“How I wish I could believe, dear Corey. I’ve heard the legends, I’ve seen the films. The man who carries fear in one hand and hate in the other. Dual weapons against any who should incur the wrath of the man known only as Corey Black.
It is a good story, the kind of tale you would offer up to keep a naughty child on the right side of the tracks...but like so many of our childhood tales, well...it doesn’t exactly hold up to scrutiny, does it?”
A look of mock sadness creeps over Teo’s face, but the same glint is present beneath the surface, that glimmer of light in the darkness.
“I know what you’re thinking, that I’m about to pick apart your legacy. Unfold a library of your greatest hits and try to say that they weren’t all that impressive.
But would you take me for such a fool? Do you think I would dare try to unravel your legacy like an intricately wrapped mummy, and expose the stench beneath?
Oh no, Corey, there will be no such kindness here. For you see, the more that I watch you, and the more sand flows through that hourglass, the more I realize just how desperately you cling, how feverishly you grasp at the past. Each moment pressed tightly in a bottle, crystallized and preserved, your arms so full. So desperate for us to remember, to acknowledge what you were.”
Teo’s eyes narrow on the final word, considering it as it escapes from his lips, turning it over on his tongue as he considers the implication.
“And I do not use the past tense lightly. For you see, I want to believe in Corey Black, I want to believe in the man made god, but time and time again you show us just how human you really are.
You are a broken record of a human being, a catchphrase spewing machine who is running on fumes at best. Truth be told this match even being allowed borders on reprehensible, given how shattered your frame is after being thrashed by Walter.
Though even before the damage that was done to your skull, I figure it only prescient to point out that your mind has not been operating at full capacity.
‘The Execution of Kyle Kemp, the Execution of Alex Richards, the Execution of Hollywood, the Execution of Thad’...
I hope that you’re getting a writer’s credit, because that kind of creativity is once in a lifetime.”
A laugh in the darkness, as Teo shakes his head scornfully. Though he speaks with amusement, the look on his face can only be described as one of pure disgust.
“Let me make this as clear as I possibly can, Corey, because I know that you are dying to respond. People give a damn about who you are. You’ve been given chances other men would kill for and you’ve squandered more opportunities than many ever get. No matter where you go or what you do, people will recognize you based on what you have accomplished.
And the reason that you have faltered is just that- you have begun to believe it.
You have taken the unconditional praise to heart, the warm embrace of delusion your only comfort as your body slowly begins to fail.
All men fight, Corey, and you may believe that you can fight harder than anyone.
But even gods must fall to time.”
As Teo speaks, he reaches down off camera to retrieve something, speaking as he does so.
“Corey, I have received no warm embrace from any company I have been in. As much as people like to beat the drum about being handed opportunities, the fact is that I have had to fight for everything I have had since day one in this business.
David Sanchez made me bleed, Kyle Kemp made me cry, and Dune made me know pain unlike I have ever felt.
What can you possibly do to me that they could not?
Yet you look past me. You refuse to see what I am capable of.
And that’s alright.
It is something I have lived with my entire life. Doubt. Fear. The unknown.”
Teo slowly lifts the object into view. It is a jet black hourglass, filled to the brim with purple sand. As it comes into view it becomes clear that the sand has been flowing for a very long time.
“I am the worst case scenario for you, Corey Black. I am no monster like Walter, I’m not even a phenom like Kemp.
I’m just a tough, tough bastard who doesn’t know when to quit.
And you will not have an answer for that.”
As Teo considers the sand in the hourglass, his mind seems to drift away for only a moment.
“And I know that there’s a third man in the ring. Deja vu, no?
I beat Johnny Stylez clean as a sheet, and I must have put on quite a show in the process, because they want me to do it again.
Second verse, same as the first. But I’ll have more later.
I will walk out of Turmoil with that Hardcore Championship slung over my shoulder, make no doubts about it.
No hyperbole, no grandstanding.
You may be willing to kill for this business, Corey.
But I am willing to die for it.”