Post by 𝗖𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗬 𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗞 on Apr 29, 2020 13:05:25 GMT -5
It's night in downtown Minneapolis, Minnesota. Atop the tallest skyscraper in the city, the IDS Center, rests Corey Black's top floor apartment. Floor to ceiling windows give a great view of the city. In the distance a storm seems to be rolling in, lightning crashes about but there's no rain on Corey's windows yet.
In fact, the apartment is dark.
Because nobody is there.
Across the known world in the northern region of Norway sits a castle above the Norwegian sea on a tall cliff side. Down the cliff is a coastal village, ships, docks and homes line the coast. A couple of child villagers are currently making the trek up the path to the castle, as they reach the front gate they go to the right of it and pull a rope. This leads to a bell located on top of the gate, it swings and tolls, indicating visitors.
The flags of Trogs og Finnmark in Nordkapp fly high on the castle as the King himself, Corey Black wanders out to the front gate. He greets the young visitors with a smile and tosses a couple of gold coins to them, they nod and scamper off back down to their village as Corey turns and heads back to his grand keep. Inside is a grand foyer with a beautiful set of wide stairs leading to the second floor, fires contained in the stone walls and on a massive chandelier to keep the place from getting too cold in the arctic climate. The walls themselves are adorned with ancient weapons, shields and replica championship belts in frames. There are more doors than you can count, hallways leading places and a vast vaulted roof. Hand carves tables and chairs litter the foyer, but Corey is making his way up the purple fabric lined stairs to what seems to be the master bedroom.
Laying in bed is a female figure with long blonde hair and long - long legs. She's turned to the left, hiding her face. Corey heads to a book shelf on the right side of the room and presses in on a certain piece of literature - it unlocks the book case, swinging it open and revealing a spiral stone staircase down into a blackened abyss. Corey reaches over to the left and slips on his black Chucks and a hoodie, then heads down the steps.
They seem to go on forever but eventually the King arrives at a wooden door that seems to be bowing inward and has chunks missing. It still functions as a door, though, as he opens it up and reveals the bowels of the castle. Under the floor, beyond any dungeon or jail - a fully stone rectangle room with an all black professional wrestling ring set up in the middle of it. The ceiling is a bit low, not low enough that one could do aerial moves off the top rope, but it is longer than it is tall. There are various pieces of workout equipment along the far wall, what appears to be a room with a toilet, sink and shower, benches and the like. Also down here are maybe eight to ten masked Doom Squad members, running the ropes inside the ring and doing drills. They stop and line up single file when they notice Corey Black has entered the room. He climbs up the stairs and into the ring, addressing the men inside.
"Training going well, men?"
They all nod.
"Good. You are the best of the best to make it though the Burning Hammer Dojo, that is why I have invited you to this place. The place I come when I need to get away from it all and focus. Focus on what I need to improve in my life, my career and my techniques. As you're all aware, I am in for one of the biggest fights of my life this weekend and I thought it would be beneficial for everyone if you'd all come here and train as well."
They all nod once again.
"Please, you can remove the masks, there is no need for that right now."
One by one the masks come off, no distinguishable faces.
"This castle rests upon some of the most sacred grounds. It is said that here was the last stand of the Aesir and the Vanir war. The Aesir, war-like Gods and The Vanir - Gods of fertility and health and wisdom. They were tasked to do battle here, leaving their homes and fighting upon neutral grounds. Freya, before wedding Odin, visited Asgard and the Aesir were baffled by her beauty and bravado. She sang songs of wisdom over might, health over death, it was the opposite of everything the War Gods had ever known. This infuriated Odin, he sent his ravens to the home of the Vanir to spy on them. They grew to dispise the Vasir, even going as far as kidnapping Freya and trying to murder her. Three times. Each she was reborn more beautiful than the last. The God tribes decided it was finally time to end the games, they'd meet and the last one standing was the victor.
It was bloody and many lives were lost, but there was no winner as both began becoming wary of battling such Godly creatures as themselves and decided to call a truce. It was here, where this castle stands where the truce was born and the two God factions - instead of battling - agreed to teach the other the ways of their own. Of course there were more terms and it lead to the beheading of Mimir, but the ground here is still one of the most sacred to the viking and Norse people.
That is why I have brought you here to this place, to pass my knowledge on to you and for you to give yours back to me. I am always learning, always evolving, always ready to absorb whatever I can from whomever I can, especially people from around the world such as yourselves. Mexico, Japan, Canada, Brazil and even Norway itself is represented inside this ring. We can do battle as much as we please but at the end of this, I want everyone to come away with more here.."
Corey points to his head.
"..than here."
Corey points to his arm.
"Now, I believe there should be a meal prepared in the dining hall. Clean up and join me there."
The men inside the ring nod once again and begin exiting, gathering their things and heading for a door at the end of the room, a different one than Corey came down in. Corey looks back at the room before heading up those same spiral stairs he came down, back to his bedroom where the blonde is now out of bed and not even in the room. He takes his hoodie off, puts on a decent shirt and pants, then heads out of his room, down the stairs and into the great dining hall off the foyer. There a couple of people are setting the table, a plentiful feast sits on this endless table. It easily sits thirty, but there's four chairs on either side and one at each end. The trainees all file in when the table is set, taking places at the sides. Corey sits at one end and the blonde sits at the other end. The servers come back in and begin assembling plates for the attendees, once that is finishes Corey stands up with his goblet, thrusting what is likely Diet Coke into the sky. The attendees sit quietly and observe with their eyes, but mainly their ears.
"Havoc Rumble. It was at this event a year ago where I made my presence known to the world when the Doom Squad took out Jaice Wilds. Six months before that a bunch of masked men and women attacked Jaice, I left him red herrings making him think I was someone from his deep past. Instead, I marked him for death. And death I brought upon that poor soul.
That was supposed to be it for me. I had recently come off the closure of WCF, a successful retirement tour there and I was ready to finally settle down. Until I was given a match for number one contendership. That match changed my life forever, not because I lost - but because it was there that Frank Patrick Venable decided to ask me to team up with him. It would take him a few weeks, but at Glory the Man Made Gods were formed as I was just on my way out.
Ten months ago I was almost out of this company. Out of this entire circle as a whole. I had an engagement ring purchased and I was about to give it all up. Frank saved me that night. I was ready to try different ventures and travel different pastures, but he knew that wasn't the final chapter with the people here. This book has many more pages to fill, all I needed was FPV to show me them.
Eight months ago I began something that would redefine the landscape of this company as a whole. Culture Shock had cost us a shot at the tag titles, Frank and I were in no mood to play games. Corey Bull, reigning Hardcore Champion and Oblivion wrapped steel chairs around our skulls. That was the beginning of the war which ended at XIII. Along the way, at Uprising: All In - the very night Ryan Lockhart lost his World Title on day two forty five, I began my reign as Hardcore Champion. Here we sit, eight months later, over two hundred and fifty days. Through countless defenses of men telling me I'm too old, I'm too broken, I'm never going to live up to the name King of All Wrestlers.
It began as a way to spite the name of Jaice Wilds. Why would a man such as I care about winning a title many, to this day, view as a garbage belt? As time progressed and the defenses mounted, this title has become the one to win. The World Championship has changed hands eight times since I won the Hardcore Title back in August. Quite prestigious, no?
I've had people tell me to just drop it and move on. I'm just holding the belt to keep my name in people's mind. Or I'm better than the Hardcore Title, the competition isn't worthy. Odin Balfore is worthy. James Nightingale is worthy. Graham Baker is worthy. Teo Blaze, Kyle Kemp, Zombie McMorris, the list of names I have dispatched goes on and on, every soul in this company is worthy of a shot to dethrone the most dominate champion in the most difficult division. It's where I got my real start, barbed wire and thumbtacks. I was a lowly cruiserweight at the beginning of my career. Back in 2001, people didn't get many shots if you weren't a physical specimen. I had to set myself apart from the pack, I had to do something to gain the attention of management and show them I am more than just a small kid.
So I started jumping off ladders and throwing people through tables. Twenty years later I stand atop the Hardcore division in the premier wrestling company on the planet.
But... I have more to prove.
As legend states, I am a tag specialist. A hardcore specialist. A technical specialist. But battle royals are.. not exactly my wheelhouse. Many point to the WCF Hall of Fame and laugh in my general direction because I never won War. Hell, I was left out of War more than I was in it - maybe it was so I wouldn't win, but I was relieved as that was a monkey on my back that I just couldn't knock off. I didn't need to win the biggest match to go on to become World Champion or be entered into the Hall of Fame in the first class. No, but I wanted it. I wanted the accolade to add to my legacy. Some would say I needed it, if you didn't win War, are you really worthy of the Hall? It just wasn't ever in the cards, I was always singled out within War. Hell, Adam Young eliminated me once - thanks to Gravedigger, who found it absolutely hilarious. What's funnier is when I beat him at XIII and then trounced his new protege.
I digress, War eluded me because it had a stigma. A bigger than it was power about it that I just could never harness. Now that will always be the one that got away.
Until ... I win Havoc.
You see, War and Havoc are similar entities. But I - I am not the same Corey Black. I am no longer held down by the oppressive nature of WCF, I am a flourishing butterfly ready to waltz into a sixty man battle royal and show the world than I am no fluke. I am not the broken down and beaten, low-level champion the boys view me as.
I am a man with a stranglehold on a belt and I'm coming for the biggest prize this place can offer.
I threw away matches when I first came in to Action Wrestling. That era, in the blink of an eye, matters not. I was never going to come in here and destroy when Action Wrestling had created, not until I was on the same level as everyone else. That day was ten months ago. A day that will live on as the day Corey Black was given a new lease on life, the beginning of an odyssey toward reigniting the fire that once laid dormant.
Havoc will be where this journey reaches its crossroads. One way, to the left, I am thrown from the ring and my reign as Hardcore Champion continues on. To the right, I am victorious and head for Alex Richards at Evolution. Many would view this as a win-win situation. However I emerge, I will be bound for greatness.
While that would be enough for some - I didn't come this far just to come up short. I was unable to put down the mongrel in the Wrestler of the Year Tournament, but Havoc - Havoc is mine for the taking. My entire career has been built around being the fuckin' underdog and this is no different. The people at the top of the food chain in Action Wrestling have never been in the ring with me, they know nothing of the kind of man I am. All they see is an old timer trying to take their spot - and for once, they're right.
I am from a generation past, long gone and looked down upon. The glory days before there was a person of authority coming down to the ring and telling everyone what to do. I come from an era where wrestlers were tough as nails because you had to be. We didn't have mush mouthed tattooed punks, women with superiority complexes or illuminated hippies with chips on their shoulder.
We had bikers, gang members and psychopaths.
I've seen the evolution of wrestler, I've watched as technique became the skill to possess over size and brawn. I've watched as women became more and more equal to men, some even surpassing the stereotype. I've lived through it all and I will be damned if this isn't my chance to seize the brass ring, take what is mine and head toward the main event of the next Evolution.
The Havoc Rumble is representative of every generation I have seen come and go. Over the top rope and to the floor, another comes along to take its place. The one constant, the one man that has hunkered down and weathered the storm - I am still standing. Year in and year out, flavors of the month coming and going, the ONLY man that is a full time competitor from so many years passed - the man with the knowledge, skill and drive to finally stand atop the pile of bodies in a once a year, company wide battle royal.
YOUR KING of ALL wrestlers.
Every single one of them, bent knee looking up from the floor as the confetti rains down upon me, arms held high as winner of the Havoc Rumble.
I am professional wrestling in it's most pure state. Free from the control of the ghost of evil, I am a machine, programmed only to eliminate those in my path. I need not a God, a mask nor a drinking problem to perform within the holy confines of the squared circle. I have rounded this planet as many times as the moon itself learning from the very best. Apis Dorsata, the Himalayan giant honey bee in Mexico, to Oka Orochi, the big serpent in Japan, even to John Drok otherwise known as The Crow and Rick Mad here in the United States teaching me the basics and the Canadian technical style, the very best in the world have passed their knowledge on to me.
And I do the same, I have given my expertise to men like RJ Collins, Joey Flynn and Viktor North. While they continue to grow, I am left to define what it is to be a legend in this sport. It isn't continually tearing down those who wish to better themselves. There might a future of this sport where I am no longer competing, I want to leave it better off than when I found it.
Winning the Havoc Rumble will cement my claim as the very best to ever do it. No man has that, no person is fighting for that but me. Many are fighting to get a World Title shot. Some are battling to test their skill against the top of the card.
I am fighting for all of history.
I am fighting for that eighteen year old kid that debuted in front of less than fifteen people. The kid that went on to be an internet famous name with the NCW Cruiserweight Title. The NWF Hardcore Championship. Keeping the NCW Cruiserweght Title long enough to be in what became the Ultimate Showdown, a three on three elimination tag match with every belt on the line. I walked into that match a cruiserweight and walked out a World Champion.
I am fighting for the man that would become six time WCF World Champion, redefining what it was to be a pro wrestler in a time when hostilities were at their greatest. Among the most noteworthy names the sport has produced, his stands tall above all.
I am fighting for the guy that couldn't win a giant battle royal, a staple of the business. The man who debuted - or re-debuted - on the biggest stage in one of these matches - twice. he who came to avoid such matches because of his own doubt. Doubt that has long since vanished, replaced now with the confidence of a lion. These last ten months have been hell on me, yet I have endured.
I am fighting for me. My legacy. The one thing I was never able to do. The Evolution main event against Alex Richards is the ultimate prize to everyone - except me. I would relish the chance, no question about it. But winning the Havoc Rumble is my defining moment. It will destroy years of self doubt and finally give me the satisfaction of knowing I could have done it all along.
In what is supposed to be the twilight of my career, I will show the world that Corey Black doesn't age. I simply get better. As the once dominate wrestlers continually fall from grace, I will be the one to stand tall and claim victory in the Havoc Rumble.
The Gods will do battle with only one claiming victory. There will be no truce, no sharing of wisdom and no poetic edda ending. Only bloodshed and shame. I will take all the heads I need to in order to emerge from this with the recognition as the man that couldn't do it for his entire career and at the time where the world thought he was treading water, came in and won it all.
The King of All Wrestlers."
Corey takes a drink of his goblet as do the rest of the people lined up at his table. The feast is on.
Some time later, the trainees are scattered through the castle in their rooms, Corey Black sits alone in the tallest part of his home, overlooking the Norwegian sea in a small circular room. The waves crash at the beach, the stars are so visible and the Northern Lights cast colorful dances across the sky, reflecting off the ocean. A soft glow appears behind Corey, he takes notice and looks down the ladder leading to the small area he is sitting. There, the blonde is climbing, wearing a black t-shirt with open gray hoodie over it and yoga pants. She stands gets to the floor Corey is sitting upon and sits beside him, looking out over the ocean as well.
"Quite the dinner, huh?"
"It was as much for me as it was for them, I think."
"Surely it was. No matter what happens.. -"
Corey cuts her off by placing a finger to her lips.
"No. That can't be how this goes. I need this. I need this more than I have needed anything. You haven't ever had something you couldn't do in your profession for twenty years hover over you. You've done it all. I haven't. I can't go on telling the world that I am so much better than everyone when I can't even do this."
"You're right, you're right. You can do it."
"I have to do it."
The blonde, who's identity is quite obvious at this point, leans over and places her head on Corey's shoulder.
"It'll be the hardest thing you'll ever have to do. The greatest collection of pro wrestlers ever in a match that features all of them. Harder than kicking the Creeping Death, harder than your friends turning on you, harder than your childhood, Corey. Don't let it break you."
"Nothing can break me, not now. This is where I cement my legacy in the minds of those who continue to try to discredit it. A legend of years past, but a mere low-tier champion in today's terms. There are a select few that still believe they will cast a shadow upon my career yet, as if they will forever be known before I. Even Mimir, with his head chopped off, still lived on and gave Odin guidance. He had his body taken.. and still proved to be more valuable than most others.
My body is still as capable as ever to destroy even the giants of the business. The most demonic, the most cunning, the up and comers - all have fallen by my hand in the last ten months.
And my knowledge? The absolute encyclopedia of moves, holds, reversals and tricks?
Unmatched.
Still learning, still evolving, still adding new techniques to the repertoire in the constant pursuit of bettering myself. I will never rest until I am the best I can be or my body has had enough. And let's be real, until my dying breath, my body will never cease. Everyone can count on seeing me somewhere until it is confirmed my body is in a box six feet in the Earth."
"Didn't you say Frank was the catalyst in your continuing career?"
"I did. And he was. For Action Wrestling. I will never stop doing this, Taylor, in one way or another. Action Wrestling, Alpha Pro, somewhere else, it doesn't matter. It is in my blood. I am professional wrestling, free from the glitter and glam and dirt and scum that plague the Action Wrestling roster. King of All Wrestlers, The Last King ... THE Wrestler."
They continue to watch the water crash and the Northern Lights flicker off.
In fact, the apartment is dark.
Because nobody is there.
Across the known world in the northern region of Norway sits a castle above the Norwegian sea on a tall cliff side. Down the cliff is a coastal village, ships, docks and homes line the coast. A couple of child villagers are currently making the trek up the path to the castle, as they reach the front gate they go to the right of it and pull a rope. This leads to a bell located on top of the gate, it swings and tolls, indicating visitors.
The flags of Trogs og Finnmark in Nordkapp fly high on the castle as the King himself, Corey Black wanders out to the front gate. He greets the young visitors with a smile and tosses a couple of gold coins to them, they nod and scamper off back down to their village as Corey turns and heads back to his grand keep. Inside is a grand foyer with a beautiful set of wide stairs leading to the second floor, fires contained in the stone walls and on a massive chandelier to keep the place from getting too cold in the arctic climate. The walls themselves are adorned with ancient weapons, shields and replica championship belts in frames. There are more doors than you can count, hallways leading places and a vast vaulted roof. Hand carves tables and chairs litter the foyer, but Corey is making his way up the purple fabric lined stairs to what seems to be the master bedroom.
Laying in bed is a female figure with long blonde hair and long - long legs. She's turned to the left, hiding her face. Corey heads to a book shelf on the right side of the room and presses in on a certain piece of literature - it unlocks the book case, swinging it open and revealing a spiral stone staircase down into a blackened abyss. Corey reaches over to the left and slips on his black Chucks and a hoodie, then heads down the steps.
They seem to go on forever but eventually the King arrives at a wooden door that seems to be bowing inward and has chunks missing. It still functions as a door, though, as he opens it up and reveals the bowels of the castle. Under the floor, beyond any dungeon or jail - a fully stone rectangle room with an all black professional wrestling ring set up in the middle of it. The ceiling is a bit low, not low enough that one could do aerial moves off the top rope, but it is longer than it is tall. There are various pieces of workout equipment along the far wall, what appears to be a room with a toilet, sink and shower, benches and the like. Also down here are maybe eight to ten masked Doom Squad members, running the ropes inside the ring and doing drills. They stop and line up single file when they notice Corey Black has entered the room. He climbs up the stairs and into the ring, addressing the men inside.
"Training going well, men?"
They all nod.
"Good. You are the best of the best to make it though the Burning Hammer Dojo, that is why I have invited you to this place. The place I come when I need to get away from it all and focus. Focus on what I need to improve in my life, my career and my techniques. As you're all aware, I am in for one of the biggest fights of my life this weekend and I thought it would be beneficial for everyone if you'd all come here and train as well."
They all nod once again.
"Please, you can remove the masks, there is no need for that right now."
One by one the masks come off, no distinguishable faces.
"This castle rests upon some of the most sacred grounds. It is said that here was the last stand of the Aesir and the Vanir war. The Aesir, war-like Gods and The Vanir - Gods of fertility and health and wisdom. They were tasked to do battle here, leaving their homes and fighting upon neutral grounds. Freya, before wedding Odin, visited Asgard and the Aesir were baffled by her beauty and bravado. She sang songs of wisdom over might, health over death, it was the opposite of everything the War Gods had ever known. This infuriated Odin, he sent his ravens to the home of the Vanir to spy on them. They grew to dispise the Vasir, even going as far as kidnapping Freya and trying to murder her. Three times. Each she was reborn more beautiful than the last. The God tribes decided it was finally time to end the games, they'd meet and the last one standing was the victor.
It was bloody and many lives were lost, but there was no winner as both began becoming wary of battling such Godly creatures as themselves and decided to call a truce. It was here, where this castle stands where the truce was born and the two God factions - instead of battling - agreed to teach the other the ways of their own. Of course there were more terms and it lead to the beheading of Mimir, but the ground here is still one of the most sacred to the viking and Norse people.
That is why I have brought you here to this place, to pass my knowledge on to you and for you to give yours back to me. I am always learning, always evolving, always ready to absorb whatever I can from whomever I can, especially people from around the world such as yourselves. Mexico, Japan, Canada, Brazil and even Norway itself is represented inside this ring. We can do battle as much as we please but at the end of this, I want everyone to come away with more here.."
Corey points to his head.
"..than here."
Corey points to his arm.
"Now, I believe there should be a meal prepared in the dining hall. Clean up and join me there."
The men inside the ring nod once again and begin exiting, gathering their things and heading for a door at the end of the room, a different one than Corey came down in. Corey looks back at the room before heading up those same spiral stairs he came down, back to his bedroom where the blonde is now out of bed and not even in the room. He takes his hoodie off, puts on a decent shirt and pants, then heads out of his room, down the stairs and into the great dining hall off the foyer. There a couple of people are setting the table, a plentiful feast sits on this endless table. It easily sits thirty, but there's four chairs on either side and one at each end. The trainees all file in when the table is set, taking places at the sides. Corey sits at one end and the blonde sits at the other end. The servers come back in and begin assembling plates for the attendees, once that is finishes Corey stands up with his goblet, thrusting what is likely Diet Coke into the sky. The attendees sit quietly and observe with their eyes, but mainly their ears.
"Havoc Rumble. It was at this event a year ago where I made my presence known to the world when the Doom Squad took out Jaice Wilds. Six months before that a bunch of masked men and women attacked Jaice, I left him red herrings making him think I was someone from his deep past. Instead, I marked him for death. And death I brought upon that poor soul.
That was supposed to be it for me. I had recently come off the closure of WCF, a successful retirement tour there and I was ready to finally settle down. Until I was given a match for number one contendership. That match changed my life forever, not because I lost - but because it was there that Frank Patrick Venable decided to ask me to team up with him. It would take him a few weeks, but at Glory the Man Made Gods were formed as I was just on my way out.
Ten months ago I was almost out of this company. Out of this entire circle as a whole. I had an engagement ring purchased and I was about to give it all up. Frank saved me that night. I was ready to try different ventures and travel different pastures, but he knew that wasn't the final chapter with the people here. This book has many more pages to fill, all I needed was FPV to show me them.
Eight months ago I began something that would redefine the landscape of this company as a whole. Culture Shock had cost us a shot at the tag titles, Frank and I were in no mood to play games. Corey Bull, reigning Hardcore Champion and Oblivion wrapped steel chairs around our skulls. That was the beginning of the war which ended at XIII. Along the way, at Uprising: All In - the very night Ryan Lockhart lost his World Title on day two forty five, I began my reign as Hardcore Champion. Here we sit, eight months later, over two hundred and fifty days. Through countless defenses of men telling me I'm too old, I'm too broken, I'm never going to live up to the name King of All Wrestlers.
It began as a way to spite the name of Jaice Wilds. Why would a man such as I care about winning a title many, to this day, view as a garbage belt? As time progressed and the defenses mounted, this title has become the one to win. The World Championship has changed hands eight times since I won the Hardcore Title back in August. Quite prestigious, no?
I've had people tell me to just drop it and move on. I'm just holding the belt to keep my name in people's mind. Or I'm better than the Hardcore Title, the competition isn't worthy. Odin Balfore is worthy. James Nightingale is worthy. Graham Baker is worthy. Teo Blaze, Kyle Kemp, Zombie McMorris, the list of names I have dispatched goes on and on, every soul in this company is worthy of a shot to dethrone the most dominate champion in the most difficult division. It's where I got my real start, barbed wire and thumbtacks. I was a lowly cruiserweight at the beginning of my career. Back in 2001, people didn't get many shots if you weren't a physical specimen. I had to set myself apart from the pack, I had to do something to gain the attention of management and show them I am more than just a small kid.
So I started jumping off ladders and throwing people through tables. Twenty years later I stand atop the Hardcore division in the premier wrestling company on the planet.
But... I have more to prove.
As legend states, I am a tag specialist. A hardcore specialist. A technical specialist. But battle royals are.. not exactly my wheelhouse. Many point to the WCF Hall of Fame and laugh in my general direction because I never won War. Hell, I was left out of War more than I was in it - maybe it was so I wouldn't win, but I was relieved as that was a monkey on my back that I just couldn't knock off. I didn't need to win the biggest match to go on to become World Champion or be entered into the Hall of Fame in the first class. No, but I wanted it. I wanted the accolade to add to my legacy. Some would say I needed it, if you didn't win War, are you really worthy of the Hall? It just wasn't ever in the cards, I was always singled out within War. Hell, Adam Young eliminated me once - thanks to Gravedigger, who found it absolutely hilarious. What's funnier is when I beat him at XIII and then trounced his new protege.
I digress, War eluded me because it had a stigma. A bigger than it was power about it that I just could never harness. Now that will always be the one that got away.
Until ... I win Havoc.
You see, War and Havoc are similar entities. But I - I am not the same Corey Black. I am no longer held down by the oppressive nature of WCF, I am a flourishing butterfly ready to waltz into a sixty man battle royal and show the world than I am no fluke. I am not the broken down and beaten, low-level champion the boys view me as.
I am a man with a stranglehold on a belt and I'm coming for the biggest prize this place can offer.
I threw away matches when I first came in to Action Wrestling. That era, in the blink of an eye, matters not. I was never going to come in here and destroy when Action Wrestling had created, not until I was on the same level as everyone else. That day was ten months ago. A day that will live on as the day Corey Black was given a new lease on life, the beginning of an odyssey toward reigniting the fire that once laid dormant.
Havoc will be where this journey reaches its crossroads. One way, to the left, I am thrown from the ring and my reign as Hardcore Champion continues on. To the right, I am victorious and head for Alex Richards at Evolution. Many would view this as a win-win situation. However I emerge, I will be bound for greatness.
While that would be enough for some - I didn't come this far just to come up short. I was unable to put down the mongrel in the Wrestler of the Year Tournament, but Havoc - Havoc is mine for the taking. My entire career has been built around being the fuckin' underdog and this is no different. The people at the top of the food chain in Action Wrestling have never been in the ring with me, they know nothing of the kind of man I am. All they see is an old timer trying to take their spot - and for once, they're right.
I am from a generation past, long gone and looked down upon. The glory days before there was a person of authority coming down to the ring and telling everyone what to do. I come from an era where wrestlers were tough as nails because you had to be. We didn't have mush mouthed tattooed punks, women with superiority complexes or illuminated hippies with chips on their shoulder.
We had bikers, gang members and psychopaths.
I've seen the evolution of wrestler, I've watched as technique became the skill to possess over size and brawn. I've watched as women became more and more equal to men, some even surpassing the stereotype. I've lived through it all and I will be damned if this isn't my chance to seize the brass ring, take what is mine and head toward the main event of the next Evolution.
The Havoc Rumble is representative of every generation I have seen come and go. Over the top rope and to the floor, another comes along to take its place. The one constant, the one man that has hunkered down and weathered the storm - I am still standing. Year in and year out, flavors of the month coming and going, the ONLY man that is a full time competitor from so many years passed - the man with the knowledge, skill and drive to finally stand atop the pile of bodies in a once a year, company wide battle royal.
YOUR KING of ALL wrestlers.
Every single one of them, bent knee looking up from the floor as the confetti rains down upon me, arms held high as winner of the Havoc Rumble.
I am professional wrestling in it's most pure state. Free from the control of the ghost of evil, I am a machine, programmed only to eliminate those in my path. I need not a God, a mask nor a drinking problem to perform within the holy confines of the squared circle. I have rounded this planet as many times as the moon itself learning from the very best. Apis Dorsata, the Himalayan giant honey bee in Mexico, to Oka Orochi, the big serpent in Japan, even to John Drok otherwise known as The Crow and Rick Mad here in the United States teaching me the basics and the Canadian technical style, the very best in the world have passed their knowledge on to me.
And I do the same, I have given my expertise to men like RJ Collins, Joey Flynn and Viktor North. While they continue to grow, I am left to define what it is to be a legend in this sport. It isn't continually tearing down those who wish to better themselves. There might a future of this sport where I am no longer competing, I want to leave it better off than when I found it.
Winning the Havoc Rumble will cement my claim as the very best to ever do it. No man has that, no person is fighting for that but me. Many are fighting to get a World Title shot. Some are battling to test their skill against the top of the card.
I am fighting for all of history.
I am fighting for that eighteen year old kid that debuted in front of less than fifteen people. The kid that went on to be an internet famous name with the NCW Cruiserweight Title. The NWF Hardcore Championship. Keeping the NCW Cruiserweght Title long enough to be in what became the Ultimate Showdown, a three on three elimination tag match with every belt on the line. I walked into that match a cruiserweight and walked out a World Champion.
I am fighting for the man that would become six time WCF World Champion, redefining what it was to be a pro wrestler in a time when hostilities were at their greatest. Among the most noteworthy names the sport has produced, his stands tall above all.
I am fighting for the guy that couldn't win a giant battle royal, a staple of the business. The man who debuted - or re-debuted - on the biggest stage in one of these matches - twice. he who came to avoid such matches because of his own doubt. Doubt that has long since vanished, replaced now with the confidence of a lion. These last ten months have been hell on me, yet I have endured.
I am fighting for me. My legacy. The one thing I was never able to do. The Evolution main event against Alex Richards is the ultimate prize to everyone - except me. I would relish the chance, no question about it. But winning the Havoc Rumble is my defining moment. It will destroy years of self doubt and finally give me the satisfaction of knowing I could have done it all along.
In what is supposed to be the twilight of my career, I will show the world that Corey Black doesn't age. I simply get better. As the once dominate wrestlers continually fall from grace, I will be the one to stand tall and claim victory in the Havoc Rumble.
The Gods will do battle with only one claiming victory. There will be no truce, no sharing of wisdom and no poetic edda ending. Only bloodshed and shame. I will take all the heads I need to in order to emerge from this with the recognition as the man that couldn't do it for his entire career and at the time where the world thought he was treading water, came in and won it all.
The King of All Wrestlers."
Corey takes a drink of his goblet as do the rest of the people lined up at his table. The feast is on.
Some time later, the trainees are scattered through the castle in their rooms, Corey Black sits alone in the tallest part of his home, overlooking the Norwegian sea in a small circular room. The waves crash at the beach, the stars are so visible and the Northern Lights cast colorful dances across the sky, reflecting off the ocean. A soft glow appears behind Corey, he takes notice and looks down the ladder leading to the small area he is sitting. There, the blonde is climbing, wearing a black t-shirt with open gray hoodie over it and yoga pants. She stands gets to the floor Corey is sitting upon and sits beside him, looking out over the ocean as well.
"Quite the dinner, huh?"
"It was as much for me as it was for them, I think."
"Surely it was. No matter what happens.. -"
Corey cuts her off by placing a finger to her lips.
"No. That can't be how this goes. I need this. I need this more than I have needed anything. You haven't ever had something you couldn't do in your profession for twenty years hover over you. You've done it all. I haven't. I can't go on telling the world that I am so much better than everyone when I can't even do this."
"You're right, you're right. You can do it."
"I have to do it."
The blonde, who's identity is quite obvious at this point, leans over and places her head on Corey's shoulder.
"It'll be the hardest thing you'll ever have to do. The greatest collection of pro wrestlers ever in a match that features all of them. Harder than kicking the Creeping Death, harder than your friends turning on you, harder than your childhood, Corey. Don't let it break you."
"Nothing can break me, not now. This is where I cement my legacy in the minds of those who continue to try to discredit it. A legend of years past, but a mere low-tier champion in today's terms. There are a select few that still believe they will cast a shadow upon my career yet, as if they will forever be known before I. Even Mimir, with his head chopped off, still lived on and gave Odin guidance. He had his body taken.. and still proved to be more valuable than most others.
My body is still as capable as ever to destroy even the giants of the business. The most demonic, the most cunning, the up and comers - all have fallen by my hand in the last ten months.
And my knowledge? The absolute encyclopedia of moves, holds, reversals and tricks?
Unmatched.
Still learning, still evolving, still adding new techniques to the repertoire in the constant pursuit of bettering myself. I will never rest until I am the best I can be or my body has had enough. And let's be real, until my dying breath, my body will never cease. Everyone can count on seeing me somewhere until it is confirmed my body is in a box six feet in the Earth."
"Didn't you say Frank was the catalyst in your continuing career?"
"I did. And he was. For Action Wrestling. I will never stop doing this, Taylor, in one way or another. Action Wrestling, Alpha Pro, somewhere else, it doesn't matter. It is in my blood. I am professional wrestling, free from the glitter and glam and dirt and scum that plague the Action Wrestling roster. King of All Wrestlers, The Last King ... THE Wrestler."
They continue to watch the water crash and the Northern Lights flicker off.