Post by 𝗖𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗬 𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗞 on Dec 26, 2020 18:53:43 GMT -5
A cold winter blast sends falling snow whipping across the sea, right into the small fishing village on the coastline. The sky is a dark gray, visibility is low but it is late December in Norway, alas - it is Yule time! A roaring fire in the middle of town, as tall as some trees, casting its glow and heat across those in attendance. A wooden goat which has been painstakingly carved and hung from the decorative streamers that go from building to building swings in the wind, but every person from the village is at this fire and one by one they are throwing their Yule logs on the fire. Each carved and decorated to the wielder's consent, and as everyone finishes adding their holiday flare to the flame, it is down to the hooded man and woman in the back.
Corey Black steps forward, holding not a log, but a limp limbed human figure. From the wrists, ankles and head dangle strings, blown about and being covered in snow. Corey walks up to the flame and tosses the figure into the fire, the village cheering. A circular entanglement of dancers begin frolicking around the giant fire, as people clap and sing along with musicians. Corey and Taylor, though, lean against the wall of the building across from the rest of the villagers. Corey has a smile on his face, Taylor noticed and bumps him with her shoulder.
"Is that some holiday cheer I see?"
Corey keeps his eyes fixed on the wood ablaze and everyone enjoying it.
"I wouldn't call it cheer, but it's nice to see everyone here letting loose a little bit. The cheer will come when the drinking contests and fist fight tournament begins."
Taylor's eyes light up.
"You can't be serious.."
"Oh I am, obviously I'll sit out but they're fun as heck to watch."
"Yeah, that's good then I guess, you have a bit of a big one coming, don't you?"
Corey's eyes change from the blaze to the sky.
"That I do."
He leans forward and off of the wall, giving himself momentum to trudge through the deep snow. He reaches back and pulls Taylor along too, as the village disperses and the flame begins dying down. The festivities haven't ended, though, as Corey and Taylor walk into a longhouse lit by fire pits and housing a circular ring made out of wooden fencing. Dozens of villagers surround the ring, as two behemoths of men do battle inside. Further beyond the ring is a barrel of ale with a small man and larger woman dunking their horns down and drinking the festive drink as fast as they can. And beyond that even is the archery targets, a young boy firing off his arrows and hitting the bullseye on almost every shot.
Corey and Taylor walk through, greeting everyone on their way to the other end of the longhouse, a door facing toward the cliff where his castle sits. Back out into the snowing cold of the night, the duo make their way up a path to the castle gate. The gate is lifted and they enter the front door, shaking off the snow that has accumulated upon their clothing. Taylor shakes her hair, sending even more slush toward the floor.
"Good grief it's really coming down! This doesn't happen in Nashville."
"But it does in Philadelphia."
"Only thing falling harder is me after Pettis hit me with that superkick. To think, all that training for ... that."
"First rule of pro wrestling, know who to trust."
Taylor kicks her boots off.
"Forgot that one in the lesson plan, I guess."
Corey kicks his off too.
"That's one I can't teach. You'd be disgusted to hear how many times that happened to me in WCF. Most of the time it was Torture."
Taylor is taken back, almost literally gasping.
"The guy that signs your paycheck? God wrestling is weird. I guess I shouldn't be all that surprised, Action Wrestling is running a WCF farewell show, I guess it's deeply rooted."
They've removed the rest of their winter clothes and began making their way upstairs toward the master bedroom.
"Yeah, very deeply rooted. You know the good parts, I just.. left the bad ones out. If I was to guess, there's probably more bad than good."
A seat on the edge of the bed, Diet Cokes on the end table.
"Where does Teo land?"
Corey exhales through his nose, his face contorts in confusion.
"Teo Blaze is... complicated. A cautionary tale of a twisted web."
"Will.. you tell me?"
Corey nods.
"I'll tell everyone."
He stands up and goes to the bookshelf, pulling a comic and opening the hidden door it is attached to. He takes Taylor down the spiral staircase to the dungeon, where an all black wrestling ring sits on a dirt floor. A camera on a tripod sits in the corner of the room, Taylor sits on a chair beside it and Corey takes a place in the ring.
"The Rise of Teo Blaze rests solely in my hands. This confidence he has would have never existed without the final days of WCF. A shining star in the dying days.. simply because there had to be one. I went looking for a block of wood to carve a new marionette, thankfully Mister Seth had a block of wood he was about to toss out - a masked luchador named Teo Del Sol.
All the hype you had coming into Action Wrestling turned out to be nothing more than a few whispers from the back of the room. You were positioned for greatness Teo and unlike the last days of the green and black, you are just another warm body. Opportunity after opportunity wasted on you. You show up at Evolution II like you're some kind of legend of the sport, resting your laurels on competition. That's where my desire lies, but Teo - one of us excels.
Glory, All-In, Execution Elimination Chamber - you had the fast track to greatness Teo and you fumbled every chance. So much so, in fact, that what I told you a year ago holds true.. the Hardcore Title was your last stop on the way down. And by whatever God you worship Teddy, I was right. Your career path has taken you to the land of the Cruiserweights, where you've sat at the head of the table.
Listen closely Teo Blaze - you're not Quixote Della Torre. You don't have it in you to shock the world. It isn't in your nature to come to this, what will amount to the biggest match of your entire life, guns firing off and somehow conquering the King. You come in reigning and defending a championship title that means more to those of us on this show than we care to admit.. against the reigning champion of Action Wrestling.
But just as you are not QDT, I am not Dune. I won't be your launching pad for golden pastures. You will not impress anyone, Teo, I am coming directly for your head. a lesser man would extend a hand and shake yours, but not I. I've seen your every move in this industry and it's about time someone snips the strings from your limbs. Break through that fog that has clouded your eyes. The gleaming sparkles of the Cruiserweight Tag Titles send glints of white and make your iris gilded - you're at peace with the fact that it's as good as you're ever going to be as long as I am breathing.
In WCF's last hours you were the hero everyone needed, you collected all of the Infinity Stones and became the only Infinity Champion, a creation I manifested. While I sat behind a desk signing papers and trying my hardest to breathe life into a dead place, Teo Blaze's stock was rising each and every time he was in the ring - but that's just it. Your very heartbeat, the competition, was less than a hummingbird flutter. Of course a man like Teo Blaze would run through Scott Slayer or Matt Draven. I sold my only coat and gave you the XIII main event in the Ubehebe Crater. Your showing in Ultimate Showdown would have gone unnoticed otherwise. I pushed for Teo verses Dune because I thought you had it in you.
It just fed into your inflating self worth. Every victory over literal nobodies blew more and more air into the balloon of your ego, until eventually at it's breaking point you beat Noble Savage and Alex Richards in New York City. You claimed the one prize that had eluded you for your entire career, coming off a TV Title loss.. you wormed your way in, but nobody will ever take away that victory. A victory that turned Teo Blaze from plucky underdog to has-been in the blink of an eye. You turned into a real boy and your nose began growing.
You walk out as WCF Champion in the middle of May, by Evolution II you are big time, suit and tie costing more than your WCF weekly salary. You convinced AW brass that you were worth the money, showing off your shiny new belt. The belt of a place that I put eighteen years of my life into. A belt you have had on your mantle for a year and a half, it has seen your appearance change, your untruths giving mass to your nose until finally, you convinced yourself it was real. Your nose shrunk back down not because woodpeckers came and shaped it back to normal, but you extended your ego out and used it to reign in your fractured reality. A distorted view of the world where Teo Blaze deserved to be at the top of the card, defending world championships against the biggest and best.
Here we are, Teo. I am coming to claim what is mine. What was never yours to begin with. You were my action figure, I am the architect of your WCF rise, of your Action Wrestling debut and now I'll make damn sure you leave Philly knowing your place is in the deepest recess of the close, in a box of other discarded toys like Jay Price. You've been a puppet to your own needs for far too long now Blaze. I'll take it upon myself to set you free, as I was the one who put that cage around your mind anyway.
When I send you packing back to CruiserClash, you land in a heap next to Jenson and pick up that Cruiserweight tag Title of yours. Hold onto it tightly and never let go. It's the last remaining visage of hope you'll have. The world has passed you, you're a relic of a bygone company I am about to put a stake through for fucking good.
I should have never carved you out of that wood, Blaze. You'll go down as one of my greatest failures in my career. But like Geppetto, not every project turns into a beautiful piece. Sometimes you get the cursed abominations. Cursed to live life as an image, unable to accept what is inside, what made you. Blinded from the truth that lies just ahead. A puppet, strings cut and laying on the floor, waiting for someone to come by and breathe new life into the twisted carcass.
You made your own bed. Your yearning for more and more without taking the time to smell the fucking roses has led you astray. Now, I shall do as my life has foretold and place a dagger in the green and black heart of WCF. Something I couldn't bring myself to do because I, too, was on a string. I was being controlled by a greater being - loyalty.
I cast aside that monster and I haven't looked back since. No longer am I "WCF legend Corey Black" - now I am "professional wrestling's last king." I have broken the mold, Teo, something you had every chance to do and you couldn't even pour the molten metal. It would have burned your wooden frame anyway. There has never been someone like me and there never will be again. There is nobody in pro wrestling that can claim to be a prize fighter like I can. In the last five hundred days.. I have been a champion of some kind for four hundred and forty of them. A two month span where I lost the Hardcore Title and gained the Tag Team Titles.
Twenty years into my career, Teo. Twenty long years. When you're in your twentieth year after your debut, where will you be? Sitting alone in your kitchen, watching your nineteen inch television. A graphic will come up; a World Title Match where I am defending. I will do this until I cannot get oxygen into my lungs anymore. You? You aren't in it for the long haul. Your soul can't handle the demoralization. Once the novelty of winning lesser titles wears off and you're left broken, beaten and scarred - not even the mask will rejuvenate you. All those fans that still scream your name, just as blindly as you do. From the mountaintops you bellow for wrestlers to give you their best shot and when they do, you're left laying on the mat, facing the lights and wondering to yourself what you truly got yourself into.
You thought Action Wrestling would be like KWA, UCI or NBW - a WCF lite with broken down veterans grasping for that last chance at glory.
What you got is a premier wrestling establishment made that much better by the final remaining competitive pillar from WCF's past building another company upon his back. The lime green blood runs deep in these blue and yellow veins but that is where it shall now remain. A distant memory, one last revisit, one last hurrah for that which we held so dear.
I let go a year ago. I've made peace with that demon and I was content to let it rest. But now, Teo, I have the chance to undo one of the last great injustices. One of the final mistakes made. A black eye on the sleeping demon known as WCF.
I am able to liberate the World Championship from your grasp and place it on MY mantle, where it belongs. Along with the Action Wrestling World Championship, a stark contrast. Past and present/future, Blaze, as I always will be. No longer will you stare at it as you drift to sleep, creating dream scenarios where you're actually the high tier, D20 rolling master of the craft you believe yourself to believe. WCF Title around your waist, blocking that little voice in the back of your head, the one that knows who Teo Blaze is. The voice that screams all day and all night, pleading for you to wake up from your stupor and see the world for what it is.
This world doesn't revolve around the sun. It revolves around the King of All Wrestlers.
When I snuff the blaze of the sun and cast cold black winter across not only Action Wrestling but the fading memory of WCF, the worlds will align and one will finally be able to rest. Rest easy in the hearts and minds of everyone that was born from it, as the final World Champion and the standard bearer is a rightful man. I created that throne and I will sit upon it once again as your blood spills, coating rhe throne and belt in your life force and placing more stains upon its legacy.
Every stain shall be a reminder. A lesson learned. It will be a memory or a memory, Teo. Not a source of pride for you anymore. You will never be able to hold this over anyone's head once I rip it away. The final WCF World Champion, on the record, cannot be Teo Blaze. It will not be Teo Blaze.
Your entire existence was my doing.
As your demise will be.
Your wooden flesh has been engulfed by your own self-importance for far too long. All it takes is a little push and you will crumble at my feet.
Knee bent.
Kneeling at the foot of your Jarl.
And it's then when I will remove your head, remove the WCF World Title and remove your mask. The mask you have been wearing from the second you won the title, Teo Del Sol died, Teddy Blaze died, you are a man with no identity and no purpose.
No purpose, only a breath in your lungs, I'll remove your will to exist next. With the collective eyes of everyone on us Teo, fans and wrestlers both past and present, when you are across the ring from me, your blood will run frigid as you see it in my eye. I'm not playing fucking games here. I want what you have and you better buckle up because I'm coming for it. Eighteen years of my life I have waited for this moment, at the end of the life cycle I can't allow a peasant to be the final champion.
That honor belongs to the one true King.
King of All Wrestlers.
Because moments like this do not fall from the sky.
They are made.
And they are earned.
I am here today only because I have paid every price that WCF had asked of me.
And in doing so I am prepared to be the Savior of WCF, to cut out the cancers and the poisons of ego and manipulation. Your ego, Teo. And your manipulation.. die by my hand."
Corey sneers at the camera as Taylor turns it off, standing up and walking over to the ring.
"I'm kind of surprised someone like that exists."
"He doesn't see it for himself. In Teo's eyes, he's a robbery stopping, white meat, All American good guy."
Taylor winces.
"Not like that, it isn't PR, it's mind fog. A willingly oblivious party incapable of associating anything he says or does with the actual way he feels and is."
Corey drops down and rolls out of the ring.
"I have to do this for everyone involved. I'm not going to save Teo, I'm going to rip away something he holds close to his heart and hopefully bring that out too. Without it, without that achievement on his mind, perhaps we'll get that Teo Blaze that had all the potential in the world. Maybe we'll see him rise the ranks like he should have instead of what we got. Frankly, I don't care if he does or doesn't, I just can't let the WCF World Title sit there with a man that only appreciates it because it is plated in gold, not because of what it represents. To him, it's decoration. To me, it's half my life.
I never thought I'd actually tell WCF goodbye. It's like moving away from your hometown and knowing you're never going back. You'll never see some of those faces ever again. In my mind, last year when I said I wanted nothing to do with it - it was because I was bitter. I was still pissed off about the way everything was handled. But I knew WCF wouldn't ever be gone for good.
Well... now it is. This is it. No more hopes, no more rejuvenation. Wrestling Championship Federation dies for good after One.
Even if the green and black is resurrected for the tenth time.
Even if the front office is back in full force and signs every last wrestler that has passed through those doors.
I won't be there."
Corey glances over at the Action Wrestling World Championship sitting in one corner of the ring, shining brightly.
Corey Black steps forward, holding not a log, but a limp limbed human figure. From the wrists, ankles and head dangle strings, blown about and being covered in snow. Corey walks up to the flame and tosses the figure into the fire, the village cheering. A circular entanglement of dancers begin frolicking around the giant fire, as people clap and sing along with musicians. Corey and Taylor, though, lean against the wall of the building across from the rest of the villagers. Corey has a smile on his face, Taylor noticed and bumps him with her shoulder.
"Is that some holiday cheer I see?"
Corey keeps his eyes fixed on the wood ablaze and everyone enjoying it.
"I wouldn't call it cheer, but it's nice to see everyone here letting loose a little bit. The cheer will come when the drinking contests and fist fight tournament begins."
Taylor's eyes light up.
"You can't be serious.."
"Oh I am, obviously I'll sit out but they're fun as heck to watch."
"Yeah, that's good then I guess, you have a bit of a big one coming, don't you?"
Corey's eyes change from the blaze to the sky.
"That I do."
He leans forward and off of the wall, giving himself momentum to trudge through the deep snow. He reaches back and pulls Taylor along too, as the village disperses and the flame begins dying down. The festivities haven't ended, though, as Corey and Taylor walk into a longhouse lit by fire pits and housing a circular ring made out of wooden fencing. Dozens of villagers surround the ring, as two behemoths of men do battle inside. Further beyond the ring is a barrel of ale with a small man and larger woman dunking their horns down and drinking the festive drink as fast as they can. And beyond that even is the archery targets, a young boy firing off his arrows and hitting the bullseye on almost every shot.
Corey and Taylor walk through, greeting everyone on their way to the other end of the longhouse, a door facing toward the cliff where his castle sits. Back out into the snowing cold of the night, the duo make their way up a path to the castle gate. The gate is lifted and they enter the front door, shaking off the snow that has accumulated upon their clothing. Taylor shakes her hair, sending even more slush toward the floor.
"Good grief it's really coming down! This doesn't happen in Nashville."
"But it does in Philadelphia."
"Only thing falling harder is me after Pettis hit me with that superkick. To think, all that training for ... that."
"First rule of pro wrestling, know who to trust."
Taylor kicks her boots off.
"Forgot that one in the lesson plan, I guess."
Corey kicks his off too.
"That's one I can't teach. You'd be disgusted to hear how many times that happened to me in WCF. Most of the time it was Torture."
Taylor is taken back, almost literally gasping.
"The guy that signs your paycheck? God wrestling is weird. I guess I shouldn't be all that surprised, Action Wrestling is running a WCF farewell show, I guess it's deeply rooted."
They've removed the rest of their winter clothes and began making their way upstairs toward the master bedroom.
"Yeah, very deeply rooted. You know the good parts, I just.. left the bad ones out. If I was to guess, there's probably more bad than good."
A seat on the edge of the bed, Diet Cokes on the end table.
"Where does Teo land?"
Corey exhales through his nose, his face contorts in confusion.
"Teo Blaze is... complicated. A cautionary tale of a twisted web."
"Will.. you tell me?"
Corey nods.
"I'll tell everyone."
He stands up and goes to the bookshelf, pulling a comic and opening the hidden door it is attached to. He takes Taylor down the spiral staircase to the dungeon, where an all black wrestling ring sits on a dirt floor. A camera on a tripod sits in the corner of the room, Taylor sits on a chair beside it and Corey takes a place in the ring.
"The Rise of Teo Blaze rests solely in my hands. This confidence he has would have never existed without the final days of WCF. A shining star in the dying days.. simply because there had to be one. I went looking for a block of wood to carve a new marionette, thankfully Mister Seth had a block of wood he was about to toss out - a masked luchador named Teo Del Sol.
All the hype you had coming into Action Wrestling turned out to be nothing more than a few whispers from the back of the room. You were positioned for greatness Teo and unlike the last days of the green and black, you are just another warm body. Opportunity after opportunity wasted on you. You show up at Evolution II like you're some kind of legend of the sport, resting your laurels on competition. That's where my desire lies, but Teo - one of us excels.
Glory, All-In, Execution Elimination Chamber - you had the fast track to greatness Teo and you fumbled every chance. So much so, in fact, that what I told you a year ago holds true.. the Hardcore Title was your last stop on the way down. And by whatever God you worship Teddy, I was right. Your career path has taken you to the land of the Cruiserweights, where you've sat at the head of the table.
Listen closely Teo Blaze - you're not Quixote Della Torre. You don't have it in you to shock the world. It isn't in your nature to come to this, what will amount to the biggest match of your entire life, guns firing off and somehow conquering the King. You come in reigning and defending a championship title that means more to those of us on this show than we care to admit.. against the reigning champion of Action Wrestling.
But just as you are not QDT, I am not Dune. I won't be your launching pad for golden pastures. You will not impress anyone, Teo, I am coming directly for your head. a lesser man would extend a hand and shake yours, but not I. I've seen your every move in this industry and it's about time someone snips the strings from your limbs. Break through that fog that has clouded your eyes. The gleaming sparkles of the Cruiserweight Tag Titles send glints of white and make your iris gilded - you're at peace with the fact that it's as good as you're ever going to be as long as I am breathing.
In WCF's last hours you were the hero everyone needed, you collected all of the Infinity Stones and became the only Infinity Champion, a creation I manifested. While I sat behind a desk signing papers and trying my hardest to breathe life into a dead place, Teo Blaze's stock was rising each and every time he was in the ring - but that's just it. Your very heartbeat, the competition, was less than a hummingbird flutter. Of course a man like Teo Blaze would run through Scott Slayer or Matt Draven. I sold my only coat and gave you the XIII main event in the Ubehebe Crater. Your showing in Ultimate Showdown would have gone unnoticed otherwise. I pushed for Teo verses Dune because I thought you had it in you.
It just fed into your inflating self worth. Every victory over literal nobodies blew more and more air into the balloon of your ego, until eventually at it's breaking point you beat Noble Savage and Alex Richards in New York City. You claimed the one prize that had eluded you for your entire career, coming off a TV Title loss.. you wormed your way in, but nobody will ever take away that victory. A victory that turned Teo Blaze from plucky underdog to has-been in the blink of an eye. You turned into a real boy and your nose began growing.
You walk out as WCF Champion in the middle of May, by Evolution II you are big time, suit and tie costing more than your WCF weekly salary. You convinced AW brass that you were worth the money, showing off your shiny new belt. The belt of a place that I put eighteen years of my life into. A belt you have had on your mantle for a year and a half, it has seen your appearance change, your untruths giving mass to your nose until finally, you convinced yourself it was real. Your nose shrunk back down not because woodpeckers came and shaped it back to normal, but you extended your ego out and used it to reign in your fractured reality. A distorted view of the world where Teo Blaze deserved to be at the top of the card, defending world championships against the biggest and best.
Here we are, Teo. I am coming to claim what is mine. What was never yours to begin with. You were my action figure, I am the architect of your WCF rise, of your Action Wrestling debut and now I'll make damn sure you leave Philly knowing your place is in the deepest recess of the close, in a box of other discarded toys like Jay Price. You've been a puppet to your own needs for far too long now Blaze. I'll take it upon myself to set you free, as I was the one who put that cage around your mind anyway.
When I send you packing back to CruiserClash, you land in a heap next to Jenson and pick up that Cruiserweight tag Title of yours. Hold onto it tightly and never let go. It's the last remaining visage of hope you'll have. The world has passed you, you're a relic of a bygone company I am about to put a stake through for fucking good.
I should have never carved you out of that wood, Blaze. You'll go down as one of my greatest failures in my career. But like Geppetto, not every project turns into a beautiful piece. Sometimes you get the cursed abominations. Cursed to live life as an image, unable to accept what is inside, what made you. Blinded from the truth that lies just ahead. A puppet, strings cut and laying on the floor, waiting for someone to come by and breathe new life into the twisted carcass.
You made your own bed. Your yearning for more and more without taking the time to smell the fucking roses has led you astray. Now, I shall do as my life has foretold and place a dagger in the green and black heart of WCF. Something I couldn't bring myself to do because I, too, was on a string. I was being controlled by a greater being - loyalty.
I cast aside that monster and I haven't looked back since. No longer am I "WCF legend Corey Black" - now I am "professional wrestling's last king." I have broken the mold, Teo, something you had every chance to do and you couldn't even pour the molten metal. It would have burned your wooden frame anyway. There has never been someone like me and there never will be again. There is nobody in pro wrestling that can claim to be a prize fighter like I can. In the last five hundred days.. I have been a champion of some kind for four hundred and forty of them. A two month span where I lost the Hardcore Title and gained the Tag Team Titles.
Twenty years into my career, Teo. Twenty long years. When you're in your twentieth year after your debut, where will you be? Sitting alone in your kitchen, watching your nineteen inch television. A graphic will come up; a World Title Match where I am defending. I will do this until I cannot get oxygen into my lungs anymore. You? You aren't in it for the long haul. Your soul can't handle the demoralization. Once the novelty of winning lesser titles wears off and you're left broken, beaten and scarred - not even the mask will rejuvenate you. All those fans that still scream your name, just as blindly as you do. From the mountaintops you bellow for wrestlers to give you their best shot and when they do, you're left laying on the mat, facing the lights and wondering to yourself what you truly got yourself into.
You thought Action Wrestling would be like KWA, UCI or NBW - a WCF lite with broken down veterans grasping for that last chance at glory.
What you got is a premier wrestling establishment made that much better by the final remaining competitive pillar from WCF's past building another company upon his back. The lime green blood runs deep in these blue and yellow veins but that is where it shall now remain. A distant memory, one last revisit, one last hurrah for that which we held so dear.
I let go a year ago. I've made peace with that demon and I was content to let it rest. But now, Teo, I have the chance to undo one of the last great injustices. One of the final mistakes made. A black eye on the sleeping demon known as WCF.
I am able to liberate the World Championship from your grasp and place it on MY mantle, where it belongs. Along with the Action Wrestling World Championship, a stark contrast. Past and present/future, Blaze, as I always will be. No longer will you stare at it as you drift to sleep, creating dream scenarios where you're actually the high tier, D20 rolling master of the craft you believe yourself to believe. WCF Title around your waist, blocking that little voice in the back of your head, the one that knows who Teo Blaze is. The voice that screams all day and all night, pleading for you to wake up from your stupor and see the world for what it is.
This world doesn't revolve around the sun. It revolves around the King of All Wrestlers.
When I snuff the blaze of the sun and cast cold black winter across not only Action Wrestling but the fading memory of WCF, the worlds will align and one will finally be able to rest. Rest easy in the hearts and minds of everyone that was born from it, as the final World Champion and the standard bearer is a rightful man. I created that throne and I will sit upon it once again as your blood spills, coating rhe throne and belt in your life force and placing more stains upon its legacy.
Every stain shall be a reminder. A lesson learned. It will be a memory or a memory, Teo. Not a source of pride for you anymore. You will never be able to hold this over anyone's head once I rip it away. The final WCF World Champion, on the record, cannot be Teo Blaze. It will not be Teo Blaze.
Your entire existence was my doing.
As your demise will be.
Your wooden flesh has been engulfed by your own self-importance for far too long. All it takes is a little push and you will crumble at my feet.
Knee bent.
Kneeling at the foot of your Jarl.
And it's then when I will remove your head, remove the WCF World Title and remove your mask. The mask you have been wearing from the second you won the title, Teo Del Sol died, Teddy Blaze died, you are a man with no identity and no purpose.
No purpose, only a breath in your lungs, I'll remove your will to exist next. With the collective eyes of everyone on us Teo, fans and wrestlers both past and present, when you are across the ring from me, your blood will run frigid as you see it in my eye. I'm not playing fucking games here. I want what you have and you better buckle up because I'm coming for it. Eighteen years of my life I have waited for this moment, at the end of the life cycle I can't allow a peasant to be the final champion.
That honor belongs to the one true King.
King of All Wrestlers.
Because moments like this do not fall from the sky.
They are made.
And they are earned.
I am here today only because I have paid every price that WCF had asked of me.
And in doing so I am prepared to be the Savior of WCF, to cut out the cancers and the poisons of ego and manipulation. Your ego, Teo. And your manipulation.. die by my hand."
Corey sneers at the camera as Taylor turns it off, standing up and walking over to the ring.
"I'm kind of surprised someone like that exists."
"He doesn't see it for himself. In Teo's eyes, he's a robbery stopping, white meat, All American good guy."
Taylor winces.
"Not like that, it isn't PR, it's mind fog. A willingly oblivious party incapable of associating anything he says or does with the actual way he feels and is."
Corey drops down and rolls out of the ring.
"I have to do this for everyone involved. I'm not going to save Teo, I'm going to rip away something he holds close to his heart and hopefully bring that out too. Without it, without that achievement on his mind, perhaps we'll get that Teo Blaze that had all the potential in the world. Maybe we'll see him rise the ranks like he should have instead of what we got. Frankly, I don't care if he does or doesn't, I just can't let the WCF World Title sit there with a man that only appreciates it because it is plated in gold, not because of what it represents. To him, it's decoration. To me, it's half my life.
I never thought I'd actually tell WCF goodbye. It's like moving away from your hometown and knowing you're never going back. You'll never see some of those faces ever again. In my mind, last year when I said I wanted nothing to do with it - it was because I was bitter. I was still pissed off about the way everything was handled. But I knew WCF wouldn't ever be gone for good.
Well... now it is. This is it. No more hopes, no more rejuvenation. Wrestling Championship Federation dies for good after One.
Even if the green and black is resurrected for the tenth time.
Even if the front office is back in full force and signs every last wrestler that has passed through those doors.
I won't be there."
Corey glances over at the Action Wrestling World Championship sitting in one corner of the ring, shining brightly.
"In 2012 I left WCF to see if I could do it. If I could succeed beyond the boundaries I have always been in. In front of new fans, against new wrestlers. I did. Years later it was time to call it a day, a full time schedule in WCF wasn't working for me anymore. So I went on a year long retirement tour. It was a rousing success even though, to this day, I catch shit for it - mainly because nobody paid attention to my terms. Then WCF closed, nobody thought it was forever. I made my in-ring debut for Action Wrestling, reformed the Man Made Gods with Frank, won the Hardcore Title, added Graham Baker, placed third in Havoc, won the tag team titles, and then put down the mongrel to win my first World Championship outside WCF in over a decade. To some, this goodbye will be sour. It'll cause anguish, tears and sadness. To me - it's a fucking relief. A weight off my shoulders. And to take the WCF World Title from Teo Blaze? A destiny fulfilled. There is nobody alive that should have that belt not named Corey Black. I am the embodiment of WCF. To a company that gave me not only a platform, but a place to hone my craft and become the man I am today. But that company turned its back on me time and time again. The fans never did, the work was never sub-par, but those behind the scenes, the shareholders and the people at the top - they didn't want me to be their ace. They wanted a guy in a hot dog costume. They wanted a mountain of a biker. They wanted a witch. I wouldn't rest until my name was on their lips. Now at the last few days of its life and I seem to be one of the only ones that has accepted that when it is gone for good, it'll be fondly remembered. It'll be looked back upon as an achievement. A flawed gemstone in the gauntlet of the business. Three letters that are ingrained on my legacy, Torture's legacy, Gravedigger's legacy and the legacy of so many others currently in Action Wrestling and even more that have been here and gone or haven't been here quite yet. On the last WCF show I destroyed Seth Lerch. At the final One I retrieve the WCF World Championship. And then.. we close the book. All the Wars, the Showdowns and the Classics are put in the museum where they belong. We look forward to the Executions, the Havocs and the Evolutions." "Can I look forward to some ice cream?" Taylor leans her head on Corey's shoulder. He nods, they make their way back to the bedroom and toward the kitchen. But in the hallway between the stairs down to the first floor and the kitchen, a row of belts on plaques adorn the walls. There's even a couple trophies mounted. But right next to the Trios Trophy and above the XIII Title that used to be defended is a space just big enough to fit one more belt. On his way by, Corey places his hand on the empty space and lets Taylor walk ahead to the kitchen. His eyes close, remembering all the good. Everything the belt represents to him. He breathes in deep. "May it rest." Corey walks into the kitchen to Taylor scooping out two heaping bowls of vanilla ice cream. She drizzles mint sauce all over it, handing one to Corey. She takes a spoon and scoops up some from her bowl, taking it into her mouth. Corey does the same, but his eyes are toward the hallway. Taylor notices, she takes his hand and leads him to the spot on the wall. They lean on the opposite wall, just like they were before, this time looking at all of Corey's accolades. And when they end their scan at the space where the WCF World Title will land, they break their gaze and look at one another. "Go get it, tiger." |