Uprising V - Due Diligence
Sept 6, 2020 9:12:32 GMT -5
Lissie Hope, Carter Shaw, and 1 more like this
Post by James Nightingale on Sept 6, 2020 9:12:32 GMT -5
“I don't reject the choices I've made, or the cost. It's not so surprising, I guess. My monster suit always fit better than my regular skin. I was never a guardian, or a hero, but a creator and harvester of fear.”
Shaun Hamill, A Cosmology of Monsters
The sun sets in the sky over the abandoned Wyoming hospital turned headquarters for AOD, Incorporated; the home base of James Nightingale’s emerging business empire. Inside the dark and intimidating top floor boardroom stands The Angel of Death, dressed in an all-black tailored suit. He looks out of the large window at the end of the room which captures the magnificent scenery of the Wyoming mountains, the sky behind turning a bright red as the sun falls behind the rocks.
Nightingale reaches inside his jacket pocket and pulls out his cigarette holder, which has been customised with his own Angel of Death logo. He pops the lid and removes a cigarette, he taps it twice on the holder then rolls it across his lip, he lights the cigarette just as the door to the boardroom opens. Entering first is Thomas Gray; Nightingale’s lawyer, he too is dressed in a tailored suit, large glasses covering his eyes. He carries his briefcase, filled with important documents regarding AOD business. He is followed by Adrian; Nightingale’s right-hand man, his Sergeant at Arms. His previously worn MS-13 cut now replaced with a sharp-looking tailored suit, his jacket showing a noticeable bulge due to the concealing of a handgun. Adrian is flanked by two MS-13 prospects, both in their unpatched motorcycle cuts, except for the prospect badge that has been stitched onto the left side of their chest; they each are carrying boxes of files.
Without turning to welcome his visitors, “Thomas, Adrian, thank you for coming to see me at this hour. Did you bring what I requested?”, asks Nightingale.
“Yes sir”, replies Thomas.
Nightingale takes a drag from his cigarette, “Excellent work, please take a seat.”
Adrian and Thomas each take a seat at the boardroom table, the two prospects place the boxes on the table and attempt to sit down. Adrian quickly flashes a dismissive glance at them both.
“What do you think you are doing?”, says Nightingale abruptly, “You have to earn a seat at my table”.
Nightingale finally turns around, taking a final drag of his cigarette before dropping it on the floor and stamping it out with his shoe. He pulls out the chair at the head of the table and takes a seat.
“Adrian, please update me on Mr Sanchez, has he looked over these files?”, asks Nightingale calmly.
“Yes boss”, replies Adrian, “He agrees that expansion is a wise decision and he has set his sights on a couple of targets that would both make welcome additions to our cause”.
Nightingale looks deep in thought, he leans back into his chair as he contemplates his next move. He gestures to the prospects to bring him the two boxes containing the files. They both shuffle forward towards Nightingale and place the boxes carefully in front of their leader. Nightingale nods at them in a sign of gratitude. He stands up and removes his jacket, placing it carefully on the back of his chair. He then lifts off the lids of each box and carefully removes files, laying them each on the table. Nightingale casts his eyes over the many files, each one representing an individual Action Wrestling employee, from Ash Blake through to Zaigon Carter, Nightingale works his way through all members of both Clash and CruiserClash. It was comparable to a child in a toyshop, asked to pick one toy to play with, the choices were endless. Finally, he picks up two files.
“These two”, says Nightingale, “These are the two I feel would make fantastic additions to our cause.”
“Excellent choices boss”, states Adrian, “and interestingly enough, those were the same two chosen by Mr Sanchez.”
“Well then, it must be fate.”, replies Nightingale, “From your observations, will they be open to joining our cause?”.
“Definitely”, Adrian says confidently, “I believe one may take more persuasion than the other, but that shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“Thomas, I want you to inform Mr Sanchez about my choices. Then you are to schedule individual meetings with both of these talents with Mr Sanchez and myself, it's imperative that we get this business tied up so we can proceed with our mission.”, orders Nightingale. “Oh and Thomas, do you have that other file I requested?”.
Thomas nods enthusiastically, “Yes, just a moment.”
Thomas opens his briefcase and removes a large file. He hands the file to one of the prospects, who then eagerly carries it over to Nightingale. He takes the large file from the prospect. It is so full that it has several elastic bands around it keeping the papers from falling out. Nightingale dusts it off and holds it up to read the title on the cover.
Jakob Lister
AKA
Oblivion
Nightingale takes a deep breath and pulls off the elastic bands, placing the file down on the table in front of him. He turns and again pulls out the cigarette holder, going through his same ritual with the cigarette before lighting it. He takes a long drag and leans back into his chair, exhaling whilst deep in thought. The prospect laughs to himself, this immediately garners Nightingale’s attention, his eyes locking onto him with laser focus.
“I don’t know why you’re bothering to read that file”, the prospect says confidently, “He’s a fucking loser, he ain’t won a single match in Action Wrestling since he came back.”
Nightingale continues to stare uncomfortably at the prospect, he takes another long drag of his cigarette, holding his breath for what seems like an endless amount of time, before exhaling.
“What is your name?”, asks Nightingale, calmly.
“Ramirez,” replies the prospect, albeit nervously.
“Ok Ramirez, can I ask you something? Have you heard of a little thing called due diligence?”.
Ramirez, looking uncomfortably nervous, “Uh due diligence?”, he looks over to Adrian.
“DON’T LOOK AT HIM, LOOK AT ME!”, shouts Nightingale, “HAVE YOU HEARD OF DUE DILIGENCE?!”
“Yes, yes I have heard of due diligence,” replies Ramirez.
“Fantastic. Do you want to know why I am successful Ramirez? It’s because of due diligence. Most people who have a match against Oblivion will see it as almost having the week off, the big guy hasn’t exactly set the world on fire since returning to Action Wrestling at Evolution. I have finally been awarded my rightful one-on-one rematch with Walter at Execution, do you think I am going to fuck it all up now by being on the end of an upset loss to Jakob FUCKING Lister a few weeks before? NO! Why? Because I will do my due diligence on the former two-time WCF World Champion, do you understand, Ramirez?”
“I’m sor….”, Ramirez says nervously.
“ADRIAN! GET THIS PIECE OF SHIT OUT OF MY BOARDROOM!”, orders Nightingale.
Adrian immediately stands up, walking over to Ramirez and grabbing him by the shoulder. Nightingale looks at his Sergeant at Arms and simply nods at him, providing Adrian with a silent instruction. Adrian immediately replies with a nod and drags away the prospect as they both leave the boardroom.
Nightingale turns to the other prospect and points his hand at an empty chair at the table. “Sit, and listen as we do our due diligence.”
The remaining prospect sits down immediately, “Thank you, sir”.
“What is your name?”, asks Nightingale.
“Brookes sir, Michael Brookes”, replies the prospect.
“Welcome Michael, let’s have a look through this file and see what we can learn about the man who claims he’s from The Deepest and Darkest Side of a Sick Man’s Mind.”
Nightingale flicks the ash of his cigarette and finally opens the file, spreading the contents around the table. He picks up a photo from the crime scene of Stephanie Kernsy’s and her deceased babies murder. The photo would horrify most, the sights of a young expectant mother being butchered like livestock. Being carved open from her crutch to her sternum, her baby being ripped from its mother's womb, both being hung from a tree to display the handiwork of Jakob Lister prior to becoming IT.
“That’s impressive, all that death and destruction because Jakob was jealous of his friend finding true love. Playing the third wheel for all those years must have been really hard going for him, seeing Stephen happy, making a plan for Stephanie and his own life, building a successful career and planting roots for happy family life. It really fucked him up, didn’t it? It makes me wonder if his friendship with Stephen, at least in his eyes, was more about friendship? Maybe little Jakob was jealous of Stephanie because he wanted to lay with his friend.”
Nightingale continues to stare at the horrific photo, “I appreciate it could be seen as ‘pot call the kettle black’ me berating Jakob for murder and violence because, well we know I am just as bad, just look at what happened to Emily Deschanel. But the difference, I’m not a fucking loser liker Jakob. Emily craved my cock, she couldn’t get enough of the old Nightingale love stick, I drove a sharp blade into her abdomen after many, many occasions of shoving eight long inches, consensually, into her crotch. Lister on the other hand stood and hid in the shadows, whilst his friend got his end away, probably wanking into his sock whilst watching his friend shagging his bird. He was so desperate that he tried to rape her himself, albeit he failed, before finally stalking her after her visit to the doctors and gutting her like a pig.”
Nightingale laughs to himself, “The crazy thing was, Lister was already performing in Mexico as Insurrector Americano and was actually really bloody successful. If he had an itch to scratch though, he would have been surrounded by lots of Mexican pussy, surely he could have worked out all his needs and urges on some cheap whores, but he just couldn’t get Stephanie out of his head. I wonder if he actually raped her before he gutted her, wouldn’t surprise me if he did. Jakob really does remind me of that big retard Lennie from Of Mice and Men, he probably thought Stephanie was his little puppy, he probably stoked her too hard. It’s a shame Gary Sinise wasn’t on hand to blow Jakob’s brains out with a revolver and would have saved us the trouble of all this due diligence.”
Nightingale puts down the file and looks at his psychiatry report. “They deemed him criminally insane, detained him on a 5150 and institutionalised him at Withlacoochee Mental Hospital, where seemingly they were supposed to lock him up and throw away the key. Trouble is they fucked with his meds, pumped him with some purple serum and thus Oblivion was born. Let’s get the facts correct, this guy was already fucking crazy, the lack of meds, the serum, it’s all bullshit. This guy was crazy the moment his mother pushed him out of her gash. It’s likely the midwife dropped him on his dome, that often causes individuals to be as fucked up as much as Jakob is currently. Bollocks to the meds and serum, this guy was born broken.”
Nightingale looks through various newspaper clippings:
CONVICTED MURDERER WALKS FREE
BARBED WIRE BLOODBATH AT THE DOLPHINS STADIUM
PSYCHO SLAUGHTERS LIONS AT SACRAMENTO ZOO
Nightingale shuffles the contents of the file back together into a pile and addresses the room. “Thank you for bringing me this file Thomas. I’m going to take a walk and gather my thoughts.”
He stands and puts his jacket back on, picking up his cigarettes from the table as he heads for the exit.
Nightingale stands outside, smoking his cigarette as he stares into the now cold Wyoming night, deep in thought.
“You have become much of a laughing stock here in Action Wrestling, Jakob. I know that things perhaps haven’t gone as you had hoped when you made your return here in June, but you are a credible threat. Your resume speaks for itself; fifteen title reigns in WCF including two World Titles and Eight Hardcore Titles, plus a reign as TV Champion in UCI. Those are not achievements to be scoffed at. Before these accolades you time spent in Mexico and held gold there too, a country which is often hard to find success in as a gringo. You’ve been shot twice and your body is covered in scars from the countless times you have been burned. I am sure you will one day find your way into a Hall of Fame Class because for years you have been wrestlings premium monster.”
“But sadly for you Oblivion you have met the one thing that is consistent and catches up with everybody, TIME. Time has not been kind to you, your time has been and gone, what was once a feared monster has weathered and decayed over time and is now no more than a loveable retard who is either the curtain jerker or jobber to the stars, hence why you are in the main event with yours truly.”
Nightingale pulls out a piece of paper with matches written down.
3rd Annual Jimmy Deen Memorial Battle Royal - YOU LOST!
Oblivion vs Estrella Luiz - YOU LOST!
Oblivion vs Matthias Mintzel - YOU LOST!
Oblivion, Amelia Abernathy & Dionysus vs Claire Hawkins, Azurine Vebbins & Ash Blake - YOU LOST!
Oblivion vs Amelia Abernathy - YOU LOST!
Oblivion vs Derrick Vayden - YOU LOST!
Oblivion vs OG Bishop vs Noris Cranley - YOU LOST!
Nightingale smiles sadistically, scrunching up the paper and throwing it into the trash, “You see the theme here Jakob? You were once the monster, the man everyone should fear. Now? YOU’RE A FUCKING LAUGHING STOCK! Not only have you lost match after match here in Action Wrestling, five of the competitors you lost to where a woman who were all probably at least two hundred pounds lighter than yourself, how the hell is that even possible? You’re a monster amongst men yet you spend most of your time lying on your damn back, counting the stars. Let’s face it though, it’s the only way you’re going to get a woman to lay with you. You’re sure as hell not gonna be able to convince one to fuck you, even if you pay her. Just ask poor Stephanie, the poster child of what happens when Jakob doesn’t get to lay with a woman.”
“You're pathetic, you were given such advantages to succeed here in Action Wrestling, your size, power, ability to take punishment, your lack of remorse for your actions. You could have been the monster of old, hell if that monster was here now, I’d be actively recruiting you into my organisation. Yet your name means nothing, you should have retired long ago because all you are achieving now is the self-destruction of your own legacy, soon no one will remember The Monster Oblivion, they will only see what is now the Home Bargains version of Corey Bull, YOU ARE NOW A FUCKING MEME.”
“Please don’t think for one second that you’re in the main event of Clash based on your previous achievements. You are only in it because I requested a warm-up match with someone who shares a similar build to Walter. You are simply a tune-up, a sparring match. There is not going to be a comeback for Oblivion at Clash, you will not rise up like a phoenix in this one. I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!”
“You’re going to discover what a true monster looks like, I am more of one than Oblivion ever was. I’ll happily split you open like a baked potato just as you did to Stephanie all those years ago. I’ll drag your sorry ass through the streets of Phoenix and string your worthless, washed-up ass from a lamp post for the whole world to see. If you have any sense left I would not come to Phoenix before visiting Withlacoochee Mental Hospital again, beg them for that purple serum once more. Because that will be the only thing which will even make this match even marginally competitive.”
“Your dear friend Stephen still lies in his coma, traumatised by the sight of his beloved and their unborn child. I don’t normally do charity, but Monday I’d happily embody the spirit Ace Slaughter to help me on the road to my title rematch at Execution.”
Just then, Brookes walks out and joins Nightingale, he confidently approaches The Angel of Death. “I want you to teach me to be just like you. What you and David Sanchez are going to achieve is going to be out of this world, I want to be by your side, I’ll do whatever you ask of me, without hesitation. I'll not disappoint you.”
Nightingale smiles sadistically at Brookes, walking over to the prospect and placing his hand on Brookes’s shoulder. “Watch and learn what a true monster is like, what real power is. You will travel with Adrain to Clash this week, you’ll have a front-row seat into Oblivion's destruction.”
All of a sudden a body falls out of the sky and crashes to the hard concrete floor to the side of Nightingale and Brookes, Ramierez was just thrown off the roof of the abandoned hospital. Nightingale and Brookes both look up to see Adrian standing on the roof, his jacket removed and sleeves rolled up, his hands bloodied from the apparent assault on Ramirez prior to his death. He nods at Nightingale.
Nightingale puts his arm around Brookes and together, they both return inside the abandoned hospital, The Angel of Death already filling his new apprentice with knowledge, leaving Ramirez’s body sprawled across the car park, blood pooling out from his skull, his left eye fixed and dilated whilst the right has already swelled shut.