Uprising III - Becoming [Content Warning]
Jul 26, 2020 7:06:11 GMT -5
Shadowlove, Lissie Hope, and 6 more like this
Post by James Nightingale on Jul 26, 2020 7:06:11 GMT -5
"Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you."
Friedrich Nietzsche
Monday Night Clash, yet another week where James Nightingale has been disrespected by Walter’s failure to answer his invite to the ring. He storms through the curtain and into the corridor where he is greeted by Adrian, his trusted lieutenant of Mara Salvatrucha.
Nightingale stops and barks orders at Adrian, “I don’t care if you have to tear this arena apart, leave no stone unturned, FIND HIM!”
Adrian nods and gives directions to the men under his command as they spread out in search of Walter
Nightingale turns and walks in the other direction.
A busy Accident and Emergency Department in the King City Hospital on a humid summers night in 2015, one which to that point had been filled with a mixture of drunks, overdoses and chest pains as a result of the overindulgence of BBQ food that often comes with the sudden change with the British weather.
The red phone sounds, the ear-piercing noise that gives staff the heads up of incoming trouble. James, the nurse in charge, answers the call. Normally a shortness of breath or a stroke, the sound of the call is often met with sighs or “here we go again”.
But this call was different, the fear on James’s face told his staff this call was different from the rest.
A small girl, only just turned three years old, was incoming in full cardiac arrest after drowning in her own garden. Her mother and stepfather had arranged a party in the midst of the glorious weather, and in order to keep their cheap cans of lager cold, filled up a large, black bin with water. Too drunk to care for themselves let alone an innocent child, neither had noticed that the girl had wandered down the stairs and in her curiosity had tried looking in the bin, falling in headfirst.
Only God knew how long the little girl had remained stuck upside down, submerged in the water. She was only discovered when one of their guests went for another lager and were greeted with the shocking discovery of Peppa Pig slippers sticking out of the bin.
James slammed the phone down and took a second to compose himself, he knew tonight was going to be one of the hardest nights of his life, let alone career. As he tried gaining his focus, that voice began creeping into his head, the same voice that had plagued him over the last two years, since the death of his friend and former patient, Robert. He at times had been able to subdue it, to compartmentalise it. But it was calling him yet again, seducing him.
“James, this isn’t your destiny, this girl is not meant to be saved tonight. You will fail in your attempts to save her. Join me and save others from the weakness that festers within humanity.”
He catches sight of himself in his reflection of the resus door window. He pauses for a moment, contemplating his next step. Afraid what he might become, he shakes out the cobwebs filling his head, and pushes through the doors ready for the child's arrival.
Nightingale continues to wander the corridors seeking his opponent for Chaos.
“Piece of shit thinks he can disrespect me again, The Man Evolved is going to learn how it feels to take a true beating, not a fluke win the likes of Kemp, Odin and FPV scored over Walter in Action Wrestling, no a beating so brutal that it will rock the foundations of this promotion. A dissection of his body, decimating him limb-from-limb, cutting out The Mongrels legs from underneath him, wrapping my choke on him so tight, when you slowly start giving way to the black, you’re gonna beg for it as it will be your only release from the suffering I cause you.”
“We have lots in common, Walter, under different circumstances we could have formed a formidable team. You culling the herd, myself eradicating the weak, it is all much the same. But the big difference, I am The Angel of Death all the time, I do not have my rage and aggression turned on and off by a damn switch, it fuels me twenty-four-seven, you rely on Etta flicking the switch for you to go beast mode. And talking of that shit, how the hell did you manage to get your ass caught in the first place so they could stick that crap in your head? That’s what happens when you spend all your free time beating your end away into children’s books in the library. Etta should have saved us both the hassle and put that bullet into your skull in her car when she had the opportunity. Instead, I’m gonna have to do things the hard way, but that’s ok because I’ll get as much joy choking you out as I would have if I’d been awarded the belt.”
“You like hiding, you’ve hidden away from me the moment I earned the opportunity to face you for the World Title, too scared to face me in the ring. Whilst you’re being controlled by Etta and ‘The Leash’, hiding away in hotel rooms under her watchful eye, or shacked up with your freakshow partner making a fucked up baby, I’m here in plain sight. Everybody knows my fucking name, they know where to find me, I’m the CEO of AOD Incorporated. My headquarters are in Wyoming, anyone can come pay me a visit. But they don’t, and do you know why? Because they know what happens when they cross me, just look at Clash when I defeated Corey Black, Dandy Divito and Alex Richards or revisit the dismembering of Sam Kidsgrove at Evolution, and that’s just in the ring. Trust me there are a million more corpses buried under my empire, and there ain’t shit anyone, not even you, can do about it. That’s power for you, not literal power you wield from your oversized body, I can click my fingers and MS-13 will have you, Etta, Alyssa and that daughter of yours mutilated with your heads all lined up on spikes on top of my headquarters.”
“I rid myself of any ties, any weaknesses long ago Walter, meanwhile you have a growing list of them. What was that shit you tried to pull thinking culling Alice and the kids would force me to retreat from our impending battle? You truly have underestimated me, you were smart enough to find their location, but too dumb to realise that they're dead to me. You could have hacked them to bits, ridden Alice like a bicycle, that’s if you don’t mind my sloppy seconds, oh wait QDT got those. Point is I don’t care, you wasted your time on a long-ass flight to the UK, whilst I could have easily gone and paid Alyssa and your little heir a visit. Somehow I get the impression you’d be far more upset if I paid your family a visit, more upset than I was when you visited mine. You’d be somewhat devastated if I punted your precious daughter off the top of a cliff. Reshape, rebuild, sculpt it so that the heir is proud, although after I pay her a visit, you'd have to do all those things to make sure she’s presentable in her casket.”
Nightingale laughs to himself, “Would you even be able to cry at her funeral Walter? Or would you need Etta to press a button for that function? How much are you really in control? To me, it appears Etta is in control of this whole setup, she was the good cop turned master of ceremonies for this freakshow of an act you have going on. You must have truly done a number on her, all those dead girls, from escaping the judicial system, to her being blackmailed into becoming your handler, maybe all I have to do is rip the controller from her hands, turn you into safe mode, shove your leash up your ass, and put you to sleep whilst you are a neutered retard.”
Nightingale stops walking and looks at a door, “We have similar origin stories, my weakness started to part from me when Robert hung himself. You started to be filled with weakness when the victim who testified against you hung herself, because that was the moment you broke Etta, and her obsession with you started. It led to you getting that shit crammed in your brain, and now you are at her mercy. And it all ends Sunday, much like Robert and your victim, your reign ends like their lives ended, with asphyxiation as you hang from the gallows”.
The door sign reads “Gravedigger”, Nightingale enters the office.
The ambulance doors burst open, and time slows down. The noise of chaos fades out in James’s head as he sees this girl brought in on the stretcher. His heart pounding so hard he feels like it will explode out of his chest. At a first glance he knows the poor child has already died, her skin is an ice-blue, her eyes fixed and dilated, a paramedic performs CPR as if his life depended on it. Determined not to prove the voice’s claim as prophecy, he snaps out of his gaze and into what he does best, save lives.
Despite the uphill battle, James leads his team through two hours of attempted resuscitation, working tirelessly in cohesion with each other to save the poor, lifeless child laid bare in front of them all.
But it was all in vain, their efforts were not enough to bring the girl back to life, and she was pronounced dead right there and then in the resus room on that warm, summer night. A night which those parents had hoped for a drunken laugh, had ended in the true horror of a child dying.
The staff were in pieces, shattered, exhausted both physically and mentally. James looked over the child, she was a similar age to his own, he looked at her slippers. He cradled one in his hand as he shed a tear.
That voice again sounded off in his head, James began to shake, he was finally beginning to lose his grip on his own sanity.
“James, this girl died tonight because of the weakness of man. You were never meant to save her, use this moment to become your true self.”
He lets out a gasp, and then vomits into a nearby bin. His unusual behaviour begins drawing the attention of his colleagues, who try to comfort him. But he lashes out, and rejects their compassion. He leaves the resus room quickly and staggers into the corridor, dazed and confused, his body trembling, his eyes becoming bloodshot.
Nauseated, he bends over to try and not vomit again. The next sound he hears finally pushes him over the edge. It began moments later, the child’s father arrived in the department, not the drunken man from the party, the child’s actual father, the man who had been fighting for custody of his daughter. He was met by James’s colleague, who broke the news to him in the corridor that his baby had drowned. The man collapsed to the ground, the noise that left his mouth was a harrowing, skin-crawling, stomach-churning cry of anger, despair and sadness.
James looked at the fellow man as he whimpered on the floor, the pain was unbearable, the voice rang throughout his head over and over again. He staggered back to his feet and he stumbled out of the exit door into the humid night, just as a thunderstorm broke out accompanied by torrential rain.
Gravedigger enters his office dropping a folder with “Chaos Contract” written on the front, on his desk. He turns a light on, and it reveals Nightingale is standing in the window, looking outside.
“Were you going to tell me that you were coming tonight”, Nightingale asks bluntly.
Gravedigger laughs to himself as he pours two whiskeys, “I didn’t realise I had to inform you I was turning up to my own company James.”, he hands Nightingale a glass. “Don’t worry it wasn’t planned, Torture needed me here for some business.”
“Where is Walter?”, Nightingale asks, “I want The Mongrel tonight. Adrian and the boys are already turning this place upside down searching for him, I know he’s here.”
“Yes he is”, Gravedigger replies, “I was with Walter and Etta earlier tonight signing the contract for Sunday.”
Nightingale turns sharply, looking angrily at his predecessor, “And you’re telling me now?!?”, Nightingale slams his glass down on the table and goes to leave, “Where the fuck is he?!?”
“Slow down son, I know you want to make an impression with Sunday being your first World Title opportunity, but there’s not gonna be any benefit in engaging in a fight with him before Chaos.”
Nightingale stops twisting the door handle, “Go on”.
“I without a doubt have utter confidence you can put the big bastard down, hell you might be the one person on this roster with as much blood on your hands as he has. Do you know how much we have to fork out in fucking legal expenses keeping you guys out of jail? Despite his lumbering complex and his sometimes far away glazed look is a cunning, sadistic violent fighting machine, no one is ever the same after engaging in combat with him, just like yourself James. Let me give you some advice on his weakness”
Nightingale walks back over to the table and picks up his glass, “The Choke?”
Gravedigger smiles, “Yes the motherfucking choke. You’re the master of the Rear Naked Choke, no one here in Action Wrestling does it as good as you. Not Kyle Kemp, and he managed to beat The Mongrel with it at Carnage last year for the US Title. Walter’s fucking petrified of it, you lock that in on him and he’ll squeal like a pig.”, Gravedigger downs his drink, “One time, after Carnage, we had to pay for a clean up of a bent copper that Walter strangled to death. You see he was so fucking rattled by the choke, he jumped on the internet and befriended this Dan guy, a cop who strangled that low life piece of shit, Eric Garner, to death.”
Nightingale starts to lose interest, “What’s the point to this story?”
“The fucking point”, Gravedigger fires back sharply, “Is he’s so scared of the choke, he befriended this guy, got him to teach the same method of applying the hold in a bid to overcome it, but ended up killing the dude in the process. The choke’s his Achilles Heel, his fear of being locked in it has driven him so far as to kill in his attempt to not be thwarted by it again. If you successfully lock it on him, it doesn’t matter how many people he kills in his efforts to overcome his weakness, no one is more deadly performing that choke than yourself and won’t be a goddamn thing he’ll be able to do to escape your grasp.”
Gravedigger puts down his glass and moves closer to Nightingale, “Don’t engage with him tonight, he’s a big strong bastard, don’t jeopardise your health by pursuing him now, save your strength so you can lock in the choke on Sunday when it truly counts. He hasn’t faced you before, he has already proven that he’s underestimated you, your choke will catch him by surprise and you will become the next Action Wrestling Champion.”
“I’m hungry for his blood tonight”, Nightingale responds, “But what your saying does make sense, preserve my strength for Chaos, chop the bastard down and choke him out, your winner and new champion.”
Gravedigger laughs, “That’s why I chose you to take over the running of MS-13, intelligent yet violent, scared of no one, no weaknesses. Business has been going from strength-to-strength under your leadership, long may it continue.”
Nightingale picks up the folder, opening it and signing, “We are only getting started here, AOD Incorporated is taking over, MS-13 are an integral part of that, and myself winning the World Title and eradicating the weakness that is Walter, well that’s just the catalyst we need to fire this to the fucking skies.”, Nightingale stands and leaves the folder on the table. He shakes Gravedigger’s hand.
“Keep making me proud, and finish the job Sunday”, says Gravedigger.
“It’s already written in the stars”, replies Nightingale, “Walter’s momentary breathless followed by his impending death will help me evolve, help me fulfil my destiny.”
Nightingale leaves the office and walks down the corridor. He is unaware of the large shadow of Walter which comes into frame from the other direction, lurking outside of Gravedigger’s office.
James staggers through the storm and enters an old graveyard a short distance away from the hospital. Through sheer physical and mental exhaustion, he falls to his knees, landing in the thick mud, laying his face into the ground as he sobs.
“God help me, I can’t fucking do this anymore, I can’t control it. Alice, please help me…”
He continues to sob and shake, his hands clawing into the ground, suddenly a light shines over James, he gazes up in confusion. An older woman carrying an oil lantern in the air, stands over the fallen man.
She smiles sadistically at James, and shakes her head in disapproval, “Look at you, look how far you have fallen. You lie at my feet, like a dog, rolling around in the mud. You are destined for a higher purpose, James.”
James looks confused, “It, it’s your voice I’ve been hearing since Robert’s death. How? Why?”
“You will learn, in time, why I have chosen you. You have finally stopped resisting my advances, only now are you truly ready to fulfil your destiny.”, states the woman.
James, bewildered, confused yet still defiant as he clings onto his sanity, he begins climbing to his feet, “What are you talking about? Who are you?”
She again smiles, “I am Florence Nightingale, The Matriarch of the Eradication Campaign.”
James manages to get to his feet with every fibre left in his body and turns to run. “WHAT THE FUCK! I’m going insane. You shall not take me, I am not yours to have, GET OUT OF MY HEAD!”, he pleads.
But as soon as he turns, Florence stands right in his face, somehow moving behind him in an instant. Suddenly the life drains out of her face, she turns into a rotting, yet living corpse in front of James. In a complete state of shock, James staggers back, falling into an open grave, which hadn’t been there a moment before. Florence stands over the grave, lifting the oil lamp high above the grave, and releasing it.
“ARISE MY ANGEL OF DEATH!!”
James covers up as the lamp falls towards him, paralysed in fear. The lamp smashes on James, immediately engulfing him in red flames, he screams out in agony.
“NOOOO!!! ALICE!!!!”
He thrashes around for a moment, then the pouring rain extinguishes the red flames. Florence stands over the grave watching over James. He lays there motionless, yet unburned by the fire. After a short time, his eyes open, tears of blood running down his cheeks. He staggers to his feet cautiously, and after a pause climbs out of the grave, looking to the skies as the rain stops, the clouds part, revealing the large moon. He lowers his head and looks upon Florence, then drops to his knee, bowing his head. She places her decaying hand on his shoulder.
“From henceforth, you will be known as James Nightingale, The Angel of Death, my chosen successor of The Eradication Campaign, you will leave this life of yours behind, this profession, your wife and children. You will travel the world and finish your training, you will become the fighter, the killer you were destined to be, and you shall rid this world of the weakness that has festered away within humanity.”
Nightingale replies, “Yes, my Matriarch”, he lifts his head and smiles sadistically at Florence.
The end of Clash, Nightingale has Walter locked deeply in his Rear Naked Choke after reversing The Culling. Nightingale, hell-bent on revenge for Walter’s assault on Gravedigger, has knocked Etta out on the stage and is moments away from choking the current World Champion out. However, in a final act of desperation, Walter throws himself back, causing both men to fall through the stage, setting off a chain reaction of explosions, putting the Chaos main event very much in doubt.
As both men lay unconscious on the hard concrete floor amongst the wreckage, a red light shines upon the two men. From out of the shadows appears Florence, carrying her oil lantern, which illuminates the hole where both stars lie prone, she stands over Walter, looking down at the fallen Champion.
“The Man Evolved, so many have attempted, and failed, to put The Mongrel down. Yet here you lie, broken and unconscious, your legacy very much in flux. I thought Etta said this reign of yours wasn’t like the last time, when you failed to successfully defend that World Title even once.”, She picks up the title from the wreckage and looks at it, “Your giant hands had this in a vice grip, yet it’s in my hands now, and it will be around James’s waist after Sunday when he becomes Champion”, she lays the belt across Nightingales waist. “It appears this very much is like the last time.”
“You are the epitome of weakness, you were given every attribute needed to conquer this world, yet your stupidity allowed yourself to get caught, and neutered by The Leash. You are at the mercy to whoever holds this.”, she reveals that she has The Leash, the device that controls the chip inserted into Walter’s neuro-system, preventing him from engaging in most of his desires, in her hand.
“I could just give this to James and let him decimate you when this device leaves you docile”, she smiles sadistically, and then looses away the device, “But where would the fun be in that?”
“You both share so many similarities it’s uncanny, but the difference Walter is you were born with every advantage needed, you continue to riddle yourself with weakness. James was born disadvantaged in every way, yet rid himself of every weakness. You are controlled by The Leash, he has no safety checks in place, I stripped them away from him long ago. You are only allowed to be a monster in the ring, he is a monster twenty-four-seven, he doesn’t get to switch off his bloodlust, it drives him.”
“James knew to realise his full potential he had to rid himself of anyone who could be used against him, Alice, his children, even Emily. Yet you now burden yourself with the same problems that held James back from fulfilling his destiny all those years ago. He will cull your herd, salt the earth with their tears, evolution comes for us all Walter, the Man has Evolved for the final time, and he can no longer avoid the inevitability that is the era of Nightingale, the rise of The Eradication Campaign”.
Florence turns to Nightingale, “It’s time to arise, my Angel of Death, time to prove to the world that this is your time. It is now that you will finally fulfil your destiny, by becoming the World Champion. Climb from this hole like you climbed out of that grave all those years ago, use the power given to you from the red flames coursing through your body to fuel your relentless thirst for violence and death.”
She raises the lamp to the exit of the hole, “NOW ARISE, THE ANGEL OF DEATH!!”
Nightingale’s eyes open, the flames of the lamp extinguishes.