The End Of It All
Feb 28, 2021 19:49:03 GMT -5
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CJ Phoenix, Lissie Hope, and 4 more like this
Post by Frank Venable on Feb 28, 2021 19:49:03 GMT -5
FPV RP #26 - The End Of It All
All things in the wrestling industry, eventually, must meet their end. Legendary title reigns must eventually come to an end, even if that end comes with the death of a company. Lesser rivalries can morph into partnerships and vice versa. Wrestlers come and go, they always have and they always will. And at Battlefield, one of the darkest chapters of my life will come to a much-needed close.
On the limo ride over to the Mayo Clinic, my back began to flare up in pain once again. My brief time away from the ring the week before had eased the aching temporarily, but after the fallout of the go-home Clash the pain was back, and it was only going to get worse from there. I had already taken one painkiller before getting into the limo, but I could already tell that one wouldn't be enough.
I fished my hand into my left jacket pocket and took out the bottle of pills, a bottle which got lighter and lighter with each passing day. Within seconds, two pills were already out of the bottle and dry swallowed into my mouth. Though I could feel my back ease up to the point of comfort, my mind jumped to after Battlefield. There was no way that either James or I walk out of that match in one piece. In all likelihood, participating in this match will jeopardize the rest of my career in a way that hasn't happened since Nathan von Liebert nailed me to the cross many years ago. But this pain was necessary. It was something that I needed to put myself through in order to finally put an end to James Nightingale. He needed to feel all of the pain he's caused me these past two months, and he was going to. Tenfold.
As I put the bottle back into my pocket, I could feel my phone vibrate with a notification. I took the phone out to see what it was and my heart dropped. Dr. Valasquez, the man I had gone to for treatment for several years at this point, had just sent me an email, and peeking at the contents of it within the notification, I could already tell it was to be a strongly worded one. Part of me debated whether I should even open it or not. Valasquez had been the first victim of Nightingale's campaign against me, and though he still fared the best out of all of us, his jaw was still completely shattered from the attack. After a few moments thinking about it, I bit the bullet and opened the email, knowing that I would have to read it at some point, so holding off on it would serve no purpose. It read as follows.
I fished my hand into my left jacket pocket and took out the bottle of pills, a bottle which got lighter and lighter with each passing day. Within seconds, two pills were already out of the bottle and dry swallowed into my mouth. Though I could feel my back ease up to the point of comfort, my mind jumped to after Battlefield. There was no way that either James or I walk out of that match in one piece. In all likelihood, participating in this match will jeopardize the rest of my career in a way that hasn't happened since Nathan von Liebert nailed me to the cross many years ago. But this pain was necessary. It was something that I needed to put myself through in order to finally put an end to James Nightingale. He needed to feel all of the pain he's caused me these past two months, and he was going to. Tenfold.
As I put the bottle back into my pocket, I could feel my phone vibrate with a notification. I took the phone out to see what it was and my heart dropped. Dr. Valasquez, the man I had gone to for treatment for several years at this point, had just sent me an email, and peeking at the contents of it within the notification, I could already tell it was to be a strongly worded one. Part of me debated whether I should even open it or not. Valasquez had been the first victim of Nightingale's campaign against me, and though he still fared the best out of all of us, his jaw was still completely shattered from the attack. After a few moments thinking about it, I bit the bullet and opened the email, knowing that I would have to read it at some point, so holding off on it would serve no purpose. It read as follows.
"To Mr. Venable
It has taken me some time to find the words to accurately describe my emotions during these trying times, but I think I can finally tell you what I should've told you a long, long time ago. I was hoping that I could tell you this face-to-face or even over the phone, but we both know that would be impractical at best. Thus, this e-mail will have to suffice.
When you came back into the Action Wrestling fold late last year, I should have taken more measures to prevent you from doing so. Your body was not and has not been in proper shape for some time, and I had feared that even mild participation in easy matches could prove worrisome for you. Not only that, but your attitude towards me during our brief correspondence left me more and more concerned for your well-being, as it was clear that you were in no mental state to be doing what you were doing. I should have stopped you, but at the time I chalked you up as just another stubborn wrestler trying to push through the pain and become a hero. So I did nothing, and I have no come to regret that decision.
In all my years as a physician within this industry, I have never had someone so indirectly put me in the line of danger to the degree that you did when you decaled all of your contacts fair game for James Nightingale and attack. What you did was shortsighted, foolish and abhorrent. It led to not only my hospitalization, but the coma of your brother, and while I do not mean at all to take away from that, your actions have made performing simple day-to-day tasks a herculean effort on my part. I cannot speak or eat without great pain, even months after my attack, and the timeline for a full recovery is difficult to forecast. And it is all your fault.
I am going to try and look back on our past professional relationship fondly. When I was forced to handle the death of Gemini Battle in WCF, no one helped me through that trauma more than you did, and for that I have no choice to be thankful to you. But that was the man you were. The man I am writing to now is a completely different person altogether, and he is a danger to both himself and those around him. I will maintain the foolish hope that the man I once knew will one day come back and make the sensible choices he needs to. But today, I make the difficult decision to cut all ties with you. I will refuse all contact you try to initiate, and I will not treat you professionally. You have made your bed Mr. Venable. Now lie in it.
Regards,
Dr. Valasquez."
It has taken me some time to find the words to accurately describe my emotions during these trying times, but I think I can finally tell you what I should've told you a long, long time ago. I was hoping that I could tell you this face-to-face or even over the phone, but we both know that would be impractical at best. Thus, this e-mail will have to suffice.
When you came back into the Action Wrestling fold late last year, I should have taken more measures to prevent you from doing so. Your body was not and has not been in proper shape for some time, and I had feared that even mild participation in easy matches could prove worrisome for you. Not only that, but your attitude towards me during our brief correspondence left me more and more concerned for your well-being, as it was clear that you were in no mental state to be doing what you were doing. I should have stopped you, but at the time I chalked you up as just another stubborn wrestler trying to push through the pain and become a hero. So I did nothing, and I have no come to regret that decision.
In all my years as a physician within this industry, I have never had someone so indirectly put me in the line of danger to the degree that you did when you decaled all of your contacts fair game for James Nightingale and attack. What you did was shortsighted, foolish and abhorrent. It led to not only my hospitalization, but the coma of your brother, and while I do not mean at all to take away from that, your actions have made performing simple day-to-day tasks a herculean effort on my part. I cannot speak or eat without great pain, even months after my attack, and the timeline for a full recovery is difficult to forecast. And it is all your fault.
I am going to try and look back on our past professional relationship fondly. When I was forced to handle the death of Gemini Battle in WCF, no one helped me through that trauma more than you did, and for that I have no choice to be thankful to you. But that was the man you were. The man I am writing to now is a completely different person altogether, and he is a danger to both himself and those around him. I will maintain the foolish hope that the man I once knew will one day come back and make the sensible choices he needs to. But today, I make the difficult decision to cut all ties with you. I will refuse all contact you try to initiate, and I will not treat you professionally. You have made your bed Mr. Venable. Now lie in it.
Regards,
Dr. Valasquez."
It wasn't a long email, but reading it felt like an eternity. To see someone I had considered a close confidant send me something like this...I couldn't help but feel small but noticeable tears begin to flow. I quickly deleted the email, just thinking about the contents of it brought back memories once fond, but now tainted forever. I wiped the tears away on my jacket sleeve and looked out the window. The Mayo Clinic was inching closer and closer. I did my best to recover from the emotional fallout of that letter, as there was more to come as I saw my brother.
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Receptionist: Vic Venable, yes?
The receptionist at the Mayo Clinic confirmed who it was I was looking for. I did my best to look as though I was okay, while on the inside I was still hurting from the Valasquez email. I nodded at the receptionist.
Receptionist: He's in room 212.
FPV: Thank you.
I quickly made my way over to the room, wasting no time. Work obligations have kept me from coming to see my brother, though I had wanted to check up on him since in the incident, it was only now, days before my match at Battlefield, that I finally had the time in my schedule to actually come. I opened the door to find one of the most horrific things I have ever seen in my life. Laid down limply on the hospital bed, motionless and with his eyes shut tight, my older brother Vic Venable was hooked up to an intricate ventilator system. Wires were fixed into him, connected to a larger machine placed right by his bedside, not unlike the ventilators that I've seen used for COVID patients. Though I knew it was just a ventilator and nothing more, it was as though my older brother, a man who had survived gang life, time in prison and a stint in WCF, was now on life support.
Seeing Vic like this was perhaps the worst thing I had ever seen in my life. All the trouble I had gone to to maintain my composure with the receptionist went right out the window, and I could feel more tears begin to come. But before they could flow, a female voice suddenly spoke from behind me, grabbing my attention.
Seeing Vic like this was perhaps the worst thing I had ever seen in my life. All the trouble I had gone to to maintain my composure with the receptionist went right out the window, and I could feel more tears begin to come. But before they could flow, a female voice suddenly spoke from behind me, grabbing my attention.
Woman: It hurts, doesn't it?
I turned around to see who had joined me. She was a beautiful woman, long flowing black hair, an olive complexion and piercing blue eyes. I had never met this woman before, only seen her in pictures Vic had shared with me. I could tell that she was his type from the beginning, and I had always hoped to meet her one day. That day had finally come, and yet it could not be under any worse circumstances.
FPV: Christina? Hi, I'm-
Before I could even finish greeting her she interrupted me.
Christina: No. Don't say a word to me. Whatever you have to say to me, I don't want to hear it.
Ignoring her, I spoke up again.
FPV: I just wanted to say I'm sorry.
Christina: I don't care. No amount of "I'm sorry"s can fix what you've done Frank. The love of my life is inching his way towards death, closer and closer every day, and it's all because of you, you cocky little shit.
FPV: Hey, there's no need for that kind of-
Christina: I SAID I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT!
She was shouting now, filled with a rage I had only ever seen in other wrestlers before. I was suddenly and inexplicably terrified of her.
Christina: Do you have ANY idea the agony you’ve caused me? Or Vic? Or fuck, even my father?! He’s worried sick for me over in Italy because people are telling him that I was assaulted. I had to tell him that I was used to get to you, someone I’ve never even met up until now. Your actions have consequences, Frank. Have you realized that yet? Well have you?!
It was obvious that trying to explain myself to her was out of the question, so I decided to give her what she wanted.
FPV: I have.
Christina: Somehow I don’t believe that. That wasn’t a genuine response. I’m starting to wonder if you have even an ounce of genuineness in your body.
FPV: Well that’s your opinion.
Christina: No it isn’t, it’s a FACT. I’ve seen how you operate, all the charity work and grandstanding. It worked a year ago, I’ll give you that. But now people are beginning to catch on to the real you.
FPV: Christina, please-
Christina: I mean just look at those poor Harrison kids.
An emotion finally came out of me that wasn’t submissive as I raised my voice to her.
FPV: HEY! Those children were in danger as long as they were connected to James and Alice!
Christina: FOR CHRIST’S SAKE FRANK, THEY WERE WITH THEIR GRANDMOTHER. Those children were probably safest right where they were.
I
FPV: But you’ve seen how Nightingale acts, you know what kind of shit he can get up to-
Christina: Just listen to yourself, Frank! You’re trying to justify the fact that you used the exact same tactics that he did, using innocent people to get one over your wrestling rival. How pathetic.
This was a full on screaming match now, I couldn’t control myself or my emotions as I snarled at Christina.
FPV: Don't' you ever. EVER. Compare me to that monster. I never laid a finger on that old lady or either of those children. Fuck, I’ve never even MET them! James and I are NOT THE SAME.
Christina: And yet in the end you’ve torn a family apart for your own gain. You can sprinkle all the charitableness you want, but it’ll never mask intentions that are as seedy as yours. Maybe twitter is right. Maybe you are the villain in all of this.
Finally, silence from me.
Christina: Get out of here. For as long as Vic has to stay here, you’re no longer welcome. Now go.
Without a word, I compiled and made my way out of the room. As I passed by the receptionist I could tell that she had heard the shouting from down the hall, as she asked me if everything was okay. I said nothing. I was past the point of words. The only solution now was action.
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This is it James. The time for mind games is over. This little tryst between us has gone too far, and quite frankly I’m ready to put a permanent end to it.
What started as a simple challenge from you that I treated the same as every other challenge I’ve ever taken has now become something that transcends this business, or titles, or any other kind of glory you can think of. We’ve done things to each other that lesser men would kill for, and if I was to stoop to your level, the thought would absolutely cross my mind. I’d be justified, too. But I would never do that, because I’ve still got a semblance of a conscience.
You want to be the big bad monster in this federation, the absolute personification of all that is evil and violent. You want to strike fear into the hearts of every ham and ever who steps through those curtains with dreams in their eyes of being a wrestler. You wait for the perfect moment and then you hit that ham and egger where it hurts. You delve deep into his personal life and you make him regret ever lacing up a pair of boots. You become the apex predator of Action Wrestling. You become fear itself.
Now I was talking about a number of people just then. Corey Bull, Oblivion, I could name any scary man or woman because I’ve seen them in my ten year professional career in wrestling. I’ve seen the type and I know how to fight it.
You’re not that type, James. No, all you are is a sad, pathetic little man yearning for attention.
The entire reason this thing between you and I started was because you came out into the ring and pitched a glorified temper tantrum because no one was putting the respect on your name that you thought you deserved. So you thought the best way to gain that respect was to throw down the gauntlet and challenge the only three time AW World Heavyweight Champion and make his life a living hell. And yet all you’ve gone and done is make me angry.
You could’ve gone the east route. You could’ve waited for management to sanction a match between us and win the honorable way. I’ll be the first to admit that I have my off days in this business. It was entirely within the realm of possibility that you could’ve beaten me because I underestimated you. It’s happened before, there’s precedent for it. But instead, you’ve made me focus my sights exclusively on you. I’m not interested in titles or Havoc or Battlebowl or Evolution or anything. The only thing that will bring any joy is the sound of your neck snapping in half like a toothpick after I hit the Ganso Bomb on you. That is the only thing that will ease the fury inside me.
See, you may think you’re a monster James, but you’re just a reprehensible little shit, and by my books that sounds so much more beatable than the Angel of Death you like to call yourself. And if you’ve paid attention to how I dealt with Walter in the past, you should know how I deal with reprehensible little shits. I won’t stop until I get the job done. I’m walking into Battlefield knowing that I’m going to need to throw everything I can at you to make sure you stay the fuck down for the ten count. Headshots, Speede Bumps, the Holy Diver, fuck if I have to throw cash away and hit you with the Ganso Bomb I’ll fucking bankrupt myself just to make sure stay the fuck down.
Y’see when you fuck with my family, you fuck with your own well-being. Attacking Vic was the last mistake you’ll ever make in Action Wrestling, and I’m going to make you feel it hard. I’ve already lost too much by even entertaining your challenge, I can’t afford to lose much more.
This ends on Sunday. For good[/].