Uprising IV - Race To The Top Of The World
Aug 21, 2020 18:38:00 GMT -5
Spencer Adams, Shadowlove, and 6 more like this
Post by James Nightingale on Aug 21, 2020 18:38:00 GMT -5
“Without mountains, we might find ourselves relieved that we can avoid the pain of the ascent, but we will forever miss the thrill of the summit. And in such a terribly scandalous trade-off, it is the absence of pain that becomes the thief of life.”
Craig D. Lounsbrough
A black SUV pulls up outside the abandoned house of Alice, the ex-wife of James Nightingale who has been missing since Walter was seen approaching her house prior to their match at Chaos. The door opens and out steps James Nightingale, who surveys over his former home, which has been cordoned off with police tape ever since that fateful night. He smiles and begins to approach the house, pushing through the tape as he enters the door. As he stands at the base of his old staircase, he reminisces about the last climb up these stairs he made, and the climb he’d have to make Sunday night at Uprising.
His phone goes off and he reads a post made by Bonnie Blue, he smiles and shakes his head.
“You’ve been climbing the whole time you’ve been here Bonnie, you keep reaching for the next rung, yet you never have quite reached the top of the ladder in this promotion. You’ve spent so much time here fighting relics from your past, squabbling with ex Guardians members in throwaway nostalgia matches that really your name means nothing these days. Yes you have beat Hall of Famers, but let’s face it Roy Speede is past his fucking best, you put Wade out of his misery in whatever kind of mindfuck you can describe your match at Evolution. Hell, you lost to Damian Kaine, and that schmuck can’t even buy a win currently on CruiserClash. I was pissed off when I saw the Chaos card, knowing that when I’d win the World Title I would have to defend the belt against either one of you two. This company is littered with far more deserving talent than you Bonnie, you might be only twenty-five years old and some might say you're only entering your prime years, but we both know you’re already ‘over the hill’, perhaps you should go home and play good housewife to John.”
Nightingale continues to look up the staircase.
“I’ll give you credit Time Witch, you’ve got mighty big balls, interrupting my meeting at Del Taco Arena. Do you know who I am? Have you seen what I am capable of? You think Wade Moore was the fight of your life, I make him look about as harmless as John Rabid does when he tries to talk you out of stepping in the ring with me this Sunday. I could have easily choked you out and then left you to the mercy of my MS-13 boys, but I’d much rather cave your skull in with the brute force of a ladder. It doesn’t matter how many sperm samples Johnny Reb produces, they can’t clone dog shit and you represent a part of history that will happily be forgotten.”
“I’m sorry Bonnie, I’m being mean and facetious, I just can’t help feeling aggrieved and frustrated at your inclusion in my Championship opportunity. I earned this, if it wasn’t for Jaice Wild’s incompetency, I’d be the Champion, it should be Walter and myself in this match, not you or the other two. It pisses me off that I have to share the spotlight with you, therefore I must teach you a lesson. The lesson is that if your body is broken, you cannot climb a ladder, if your legs are snapped, you cannot put your weight on them to climb each rung, if your arms are broken, you cannot reach for the belt, and finally if I have choked you unconscious, then there it is impossible for you to even attempt any of the previous things. So be a good little Time Witch Bonnie, hop inside the DeLorean, put your foot down to 88 MPH and go blast yourself back to a time when you were both relevant, and had an actual chance of winning.”
A humid night in the Summer of 2015, the night James Harrison was reborn as James Nightingale. The uncomfortable heat had brought a storm upon The Kings City, torrential rain poured down on the medieval city as Nightingale wandered through the streets, his shadow amplified on the road by the bright flashes of lightning, followed by the crashing of thunder. The rain pelted against his face as he pushed through the storm, washing away the last remnants of his humanity which had already been stripped away earlier in the night by The Matriarch. After walking for what appeared to be an eternity, he finally arrived at his destination, his home. He gazed upon his reflection in the glass of the front door, a figure he no longer recognised. He turned and crouched down next to a large flower pot and partially lifted it, retrieving a spare front door key. He quietly slid the key into the door and turned it as quietly as possible, determined not to awake his young family inside. He successfully entered the house and shut the door as quietly as he had entered it.
He stood at the foot of the tall staircase, contemplating his next move, knowing if he made that climb, there would be no going back from the dark path he was heading down. He turned and snuck through the lounge, glancing at the many happy family photos displayed throughout the house. Neither pictures of his beautiful wife or children registered even the slightest bit of happiness within him, for his heart was corroded with darkness and hatred for the world. Nightingale arrived in the kitchen, surveying for a weapon, anything dangerous enough to murder his family in their sleep, eliminating anything that may be seen as a weakness to The Angel of Death in the future.
He stood at the foot of the tall staircase, contemplating his next move, knowing if he made that climb, there would be no going back from the dark path he was heading down. He turned and snuck through the lounge, glancing at the many happy family photos displayed throughout the house. Neither pictures of his beautiful wife or children registered even the slightest bit of happiness within him, for his heart was corroded with darkness and hatred for the world. Nightingale arrived in the kitchen, surveying for a weapon, anything dangerous enough to murder his family in their sleep, eliminating anything that may be seen as a weakness to The Angel of Death in the future.
Nightingale enters his old lounge and looks over dusty photos of his family.
“Are you lost Howard Black, because I don’t know how the fuck you managed to stumble into my Championship match at Uprising. I didn’t realise that losing two straight matches here in Action Wrestling is rewarded with World Title opportunities because shit, I lost more than anyone so I should be a record titleholder.”
“I’d really hoped that a change in the matchmaker here in Action Wrestling would have improved the decision making here but when you go from a Mexican whore to a Russian bastard, what do you expect. It’s these decisions that have led to you Howard being included in this match. Like Bonnie, what have you done to earn this opportunity, you too fought a relic from the past in Joey Not So Flash Anymore and surprisingly beat the guy who previously made you look like his bitch. But literally, that’s it, because you haven’t won another match since you’ve been here, you have been unable to beat an actual current, relevant competitor here. So please tell me why you are in my match, because of your legacy? The only thing you have done relevant in your career which anyone actually remembers is when Joey Flash broke your arm, and you cried like a bitch on national TV. Poor Howard Black, you broke your arm, why did you stay away for over a year. I am a nurse mate, a broken arm doesn’t take a year to heal. What was wrong, did you get lost on your way to the Emergency Room much like you’ve somehow stumbled into my Championship match, or were you too scared to show your face again after being embarrassed and humiliated.”
Nightingale picks up a picture of Alice holding their son, “There’s nothing quite like that of a mother’s love for her children, Howard. I remember taking this photo of Alice the day my son was born, such a happy day.” Nightingale tosses the photo to the side.
“You're a family man Howard, do you have what it takes to make them proud? Sadly I doubt it. Poor Joey is gonna have to watch the big match and see that his Daddy is weak, that you cannot climb the rungs of a ladder with a broken arm. Joey Flash might have softened it up for me Howard, believe me when I say I will finish the job and tear it clean off. I will take the ladder and repeatedly smash it into your arm until there is nothing left then fragments of your ended career. You will be so debilitated that Sarah will have to wipe your own ass, and Joey will finally get to see what a real Champion looks like, not the lost failure that is his own father. And when you can’t pleasure your wife any more because you’re too broken, well I’d happily lend her a helping hand Howard, and if I’m feeling kind enough, I might let you watch, just like you’ll get to watch me be crowned the new Action Wrestling World Champion on Sunday.”
After quietly rummaging through the draws of the kitchen, he finally pulls out a large carving knife. He runs it through the knife sharpener his in-laws had given him the previous Christmas, little had they known at the time they were aiding their Son-In-Law in murdering their daughter. After sharpening the blade, he holds it in the air, lightning flashes, revealing Nightingale’s reflection in the knife, he smiles sadistically at his own image, and at the thought of the pleasure of murdering his family. He begins to walk back through the lounge, knocking the photos off the wall as he passes them, now showing little care if he wakes his family, it wouldn’t matter, they wouldn’t be able to stop him now. He arrives at the bottom of the staircase and slowly begins his climb. He climbs each step, his right hand holding onto the bannister, his left hand grasping the knife tightly. As he makes his climb, he focuses on The Matriarch’s words of encouragement, his mission and visions of himself fulfilling his destiny. He begins to whistle as he approaches the top of the stairs, displaying a cocky and carefree swagger you would not expect from someone who was about to commit such atrocities.
He completes his climb and surveys the choice ahead of him, which door does he pick first? The door of his wife Alice, or that of his son and daughter? After a short pause, he begins to play Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe, with the knife pointing towards each door. After the completion of the counting rhyme, the knife points at the door of his children, and he smiles as he snakes his way to their door. He quietly pulls down on the handle and enters, slowly closing it behind him.
He completes his climb and surveys the choice ahead of him, which door does he pick first? The door of his wife Alice, or that of his son and daughter? After a short pause, he begins to play Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe, with the knife pointing towards each door. After the completion of the counting rhyme, the knife points at the door of his children, and he smiles as he snakes his way to their door. He quietly pulls down on the handle and enters, slowly closing it behind him.
Nightingale wanders into the kitchen of his old home, he forages around the draws, unsuccessfully looking for something.
“Spencer Adams, KOS, whatever your name is now, the true utility man of Action Wrestling. Hats off to you, you boast a hell of a resume here, first Triple Crown winner, Feud of the Year, Battlebowl winner you’ve almost done it all here, yet I don’t know what the fuck gives you the right to be in my Championship match.”
Nightingale pulls out the draw and slams it on the ground.
“Sure you beat little lost Howard Black, but who hasn’t right? You won the ladder match at Evolution with your undead tag team partner, but you laid down in the ring on top of Ainsworth whilst Crow climbed that ladder and retrieved the belts. I know you represent some piece of crap community, but if you want to get into the pants of the biggest whore on the roster, I’m sure all you had to do was ask and she would have parted her legs like The Red Sea. To make matters worse you laid on your ass again on the outside whilst you let Odin get pinned for your titles. The accolades are great, five-time champ here in Action Wrestling, but that’s five times you’ve lost the belts. So please explain to me why I have to even contemplate you on Sunday? Is it because this match has been named The Legacy Ladder match. Sure thing no one has a better legacy here in Action Wrestling than the King of Slabs. A sacrifice needs to be made to the Eradication Campaign, I’d happily sacrifice your legacy in order to solidify mine.”
“Pasternak summed it up perfectly on Clash, you peaked too soon. You’re done here, your relevance as a singles star is over. You best hope that Crow McMorris doesn’t finally realise his own potential and wins All In, because if he does, there will be nothing left here for you, no one to carry your ass around here anymore. He will turn his back on you just like you turned your back on all the Slabs. How will you feel when he tries to cash in his briefcase for the World Title whilst you stand and watch in the back. I will be Champion, and he will fail that cash in, but the point is he will have moved on from you. You had your day as World Champion, you could have got another shot when I was busy laying Sam Kidsgrove to waste. You had the Pennant you earned from Wrestle Season, but you got too cocky and arrogant, you should have gone for the World Title again, but you instead went for the Tag Titles because you know that you can’t go anymore, you can’t win the big one again. On Sunday I will happily prove to the world that Spencer Adams is washed up, that you can’t climb the ladder once more, that there is no one left to carry you to one more victory. Kill or Cure Spencer, I have the cure, it’s called euthanasia and I’d gladly lay you to rest by caving in your fucking skull with a ladder.”
Nightingale watches as his children sleep peacefully, the room illuminated by his daughter’s night light. She had been scared of monsters hiding under her bed, her father brought her the night light and promised her she’d be safe, little did she know that he would be the monster in her room. He picked up a pillow with the intent to place it on her face, so that any screams would be muffled. Just as he was about to use the pillow, he caught sight of her Peppa Pig slippers, the same slippers he had seen on the young girl who had drowned earlier in the night. This caused him to pause and stagger back to the door, was this an intervention from a higher place, or Nightingale’s humanity stopping him from carrying out the atrocious act. He breathes deeply and sharply, trying to catch his breath. He tries to shake the cobwebs from out his head when he hears a familiar voice.
“Do not fail me now James, you know what to do, kill the cancer that is your family.”
James is torn between right and wrong, he finally ignores the voice and leaves his children’s room, he heads back to the staircase to make his exit when he stops. After pausing for a moment he turns his head to Alice’s door and enters. He watches over his beautiful wife as she sleeps peacefully on her side. He walks over to her and runs his hand through her hair, despite being asleep, she appears to take comfort in his touch. She rolls onto her back, as if she knew her husband was there to make love to her. But she was blissfully unaware he had a large knife held above her, ready to plunge it into her heart. He pulls the knife back one last time ready to drive it down, when suddenly the door creaks. Nightingale quickly conceals the blade and turns to the door, his son stands there half asleep.
“Daddy, you’re home?”, his son asks confusingly.
Nightingale is frozen in panic, he glances at Alice who remains asleep. Nightingale quickly ushers his son out of the bedroom, placing the knife on top of the wardrobe as he leaves the room.
“Come on son, it’s late you need to go back to sleep.”, replies Nightingale.
Nightingale returns his son to his bed and tucks him in, he is virtually asleep as-soon-as his head lays down on the pillow. “I need you to be the man of the house now”.
He tries to reach for the knife again, but remembers he left it in the other room. He approaches his bedroom door one final time, but as he begins to pull down on the handle, Alice’s alarm goes off. Nightingale in surprise stumbles back and falls down the stairs, landing at the bottom of the stairs in a heap. After being stunned for a moment, he comes to his senses, but can hear his daughter crying, and Alice climbing out of bed. He comes to the realisation that he has blown his opportunity, and pulls himself up and limps through the front door back into the storm. He staggers down the road, and falls to his knees, the tears from his sobbing eyes blending in with the rain that pelts against his face.
“I have failed you my Matriarch, please forgive me.”
His complexion is suddenly lightened up with the red glow of The Matriarch’s lamp. “Today has been both a success and a failure. You climbed out of the grave rechristened as The Angel of Darkness, but failed to fully ascend to darkness by murdering your family. You were not ready to make that climb today, James. But one day we will return here and you will be ready to complete your climb."
Nightingale, looking up at The Matriarch, “Yes my Matriarch”.
“Do not fail me now James, you know what to do, kill the cancer that is your family.”
James is torn between right and wrong, he finally ignores the voice and leaves his children’s room, he heads back to the staircase to make his exit when he stops. After pausing for a moment he turns his head to Alice’s door and enters. He watches over his beautiful wife as she sleeps peacefully on her side. He walks over to her and runs his hand through her hair, despite being asleep, she appears to take comfort in his touch. She rolls onto her back, as if she knew her husband was there to make love to her. But she was blissfully unaware he had a large knife held above her, ready to plunge it into her heart. He pulls the knife back one last time ready to drive it down, when suddenly the door creaks. Nightingale quickly conceals the blade and turns to the door, his son stands there half asleep.
“Daddy, you’re home?”, his son asks confusingly.
Nightingale is frozen in panic, he glances at Alice who remains asleep. Nightingale quickly ushers his son out of the bedroom, placing the knife on top of the wardrobe as he leaves the room.
“Come on son, it’s late you need to go back to sleep.”, replies Nightingale.
Nightingale returns his son to his bed and tucks him in, he is virtually asleep as-soon-as his head lays down on the pillow. “I need you to be the man of the house now”.
He tries to reach for the knife again, but remembers he left it in the other room. He approaches his bedroom door one final time, but as he begins to pull down on the handle, Alice’s alarm goes off. Nightingale in surprise stumbles back and falls down the stairs, landing at the bottom of the stairs in a heap. After being stunned for a moment, he comes to his senses, but can hear his daughter crying, and Alice climbing out of bed. He comes to the realisation that he has blown his opportunity, and pulls himself up and limps through the front door back into the storm. He staggers down the road, and falls to his knees, the tears from his sobbing eyes blending in with the rain that pelts against his face.
“I have failed you my Matriarch, please forgive me.”
His complexion is suddenly lightened up with the red glow of The Matriarch’s lamp. “Today has been both a success and a failure. You climbed out of the grave rechristened as The Angel of Darkness, but failed to fully ascend to darkness by murdering your family. You were not ready to make that climb today, James. But one day we will return here and you will be ready to complete your climb."
Nightingale, looking up at The Matriarch, “Yes my Matriarch”.
Nightingale approaches the foot of the staircase just as he did five years previously. He climbs the stairs without hesitation, and quickly descends to the top. He enters Alice’s bedroom and surveys the deserted room, the covers still drawn back following Walter’s nighttime visit to the property.
“So here we are Walter once again. Fuck the others, this match is about just me and you. It is known as the Legacy Ladder Match because we have raged a war of the ages. They will remember the wars we battled for years to come, and the war we will endure this Sunday will be the crowning moment of our legacy.”
“I respect you, Walter, we share so many similarities it’s uncanny. I would watch you from the outskirts and I would admire The Man Evolved as you moulded this company into what you interpret as evolution. Yet you don’t respect me, you belittled me, mocked my win-loss record and dismissed my credibility as a threat to your World Title reign. How did that go for you? I’m such a joke, my Eradication Campaign was such a joke yet you went to great lengths to derail me even before we stepped into the ring at Chaos.”
Nightingale picks up Alice’s pillow, “Tell me you son of a bitch, how did she smell?”, Nightingale takes a long deep smell of the pillow and throws it down.
“Just as I remember, Chanel. My girl always wore it. Did you get off on her smell Walter? Because I stopped caring about that a long time ago. You clearly think I’m a threat to your reign because it was enough for you to hop on a flight over here to slaughter my family. I have evolved into the ultimate fighting machine here in Action Wrestling whereas you continue to collect weaknesses. You coming here proved one thing to me, that you are scared of me, and if the shoe was on the other foot, and I paid Alyssa a visit, your world would crumble.”
“How did my win-loss record resonate in your ears when I was choking the life out of you at Chaos, Walter? It is true that I have suffered six defeats here in Action Wrestling. However I have only been pinned three times, you’ve been submitted once and pinned twice so in my eyes that makes us dead even. I’ve run a gauntlet of the best here in Action Wrestling, I haven’t always been victorious yet I am facing you for the World Title for the second PPV in a row and none of them competitors who pinned me are in this match. That shows you I’m a special breed of competitor, one who is evolved to match you in the art of war, one who is the true man evolved and who’ll be the next World Champion.”
“My Eradication Campaign is simple; it’s about power. I want to be the most powerful man in Action Wrestling. I have created partnerships with multiple heavy hitters here which will enable me to succeed. That title belt that you hold so tightly, it is the one thing left I need to show the world why I am the best damn wrestler in this business and why I am the most powerful entity this company has ever seen.”
“There is no escape from my power Walter, my reign is inevitable. Please tell me, how do you plan on climbing the ladder to reclaim your prize if I’ve choked you out? Etta can use The Leash all she wants but it won’t matter how many times she presses the button, your fat ass won’t be able to climb each rung of that ladder if you are unconscious. When I lock you in the choke again, Jaice Wild’s won’t be able to save you this time, and if your so lucky to wake up, it will be too late, because you will be on your back looking up at me having climbed to the top of the mountain pulling down your title from the top of the world and ending your fluke reign of weakness and your underwhelming evolution.”
Nightingale pulls out his phone and makes a call, “Bring her up, Adrian.”
He hangs up, the doors of the SUV can be heard opening and closing. The front door slams shut and multiple footsteps can be heard climbing the stairs. The bedroom door is pushed open and in comes Adrian, accompanied by a hostage. A woman with her head covered in a black hood. Nightingale walks over to the wardrobe and feels the top, to his surprise he finds the same knife from five years ago. He removes the hood to reveal Emily Deschanel, gagged, tear-soaked mascara down her cheeks.
“Emily, Emily, my poor little Emily.”, he runs his hand down her cheek, she flinches as he touches her.
“You represent a weakness of mine. This room reminds me of a weakness I had five years ago. At Chaos I was weak, I thought I was strong enough to conquer Walter, yet I failed. I didn’t leave with what I said I’d walk away with, the championship. Well it’s about time we eradicate the weakness.”
Nightingale smiles sadistically at Emily, then plunges the knife into her stomach. She whelps and lets out a muffled scream as much as her gagged mouth will allow, her eyes watering. She quickly loses consciousness as she slumps onto the bed, the blood pours from her knife wound and pools on Alice’s bed.
“Walter, the other three bastards who don’t deserve to be in this match, and to the mother fucker who holds the All In briefcase, don’t get any high hopes of being World Champion because Sunday is my Uprising. At Evolution, I evolved into what you see in front of you, since then I’ve defeated legends, I have risen to the top of this company and on Sunday I will climb each rung of the ladder, I will race to the top of the world and successfully secure the World Championship title in order to finally fulfil my legacy.”