Post by CJ Phoenix on Mar 14, 2021 14:54:10 GMT -5
There's a growing puddle of blood on the floor in CJ Phoenix's basement. The source is from the owner himself. With a knife in one hand, he watches as his other hand bleeds from the self-inflicted wound. There is also a strange looking eye drawn on the injured hand, making it look like it's crying a stream of bloody tears. His face shows that he has taken some of the blood and ran it across his eye like war paint.
Marvelous, isn't it? The beautiful crimson that runs within us pours onto the ground. It doesn't hurt. It's just a physical scar, which means it'll heal in no time. It's the mental scars that cause the most pain. If you don't believe me, you can ask Soldado after our brawl on the upcoming CruiserClash.
CJ stops himself and shakes his head.
No, that's wrong. It isn't a brawl despite the phrase that's being used to describe it. It's more of a St. Patrick's Day Slaughter with Soldado as my sacrifice. You should be honored that the hands of fate picked you to be here. I know you're not as happy as I am though. I get that. I pin you in the ring in our triple threat bout a few days ago, and now you're forced to face me again. When I say "forced" I don't mean because you're being held at gunpoint. I say it because your own stubbornness and stupidity will prevent you from doing the smart thing and forfeiting because you're desperate. Desperate because you know that what I said last week about you is the truth. Desperate because you saw firsthand just how wide the skill gap is between us, and desperate because your aspirations are becoming impossible to reach. I know you'll try to play tough and talk a good game in order to hide the fact that you're afraid of me. You'll believe that this is your chance to get some revenge by getting away with a fluke win. Hold on to that hope. It'll bring me that much more satisfaction when I drown you in despair.
He laughs to himself as his mind fills with sadistic thoughts.
There are no count outs or disqualifications once again. You don't even get a chance to make it to the ring. For most people, that would level the playing field. Not in this case. That just means I can break you as much as I want to without restraint. The only question is how should I do so in order to maximize your suffering? I've been thinking about cracking your skull against the wall repeatedly until blood rains down your face. Then, we'll go on a tour of the arena as I smash your broken body against every painful and unforgiving object that I come across. I'm gonna enjoy hurting you. Not because of any grudges or animosity. I simply want you to suffer for the sake of enjoying your despair. Oooooh I can't wait until the paramedics have to pick up what's left of you and piece you back together in the hospital. I wonder how your little gal pal will feel after that. Oh that's right. I haven't forgotten about her. As desperate for the spotlight as you are, it wouldn't surprise me if she popped up to try and ambush me. First, it would further prove that you simply can't beat me. Second, I welcome her to try. Despair cares not what gender, race, or age you are. While you're struggling just to move and breathe, I'll powerbomb her into the ground until she's unresponsive. After that, I'll sign my name on her in your blood as a reminder that it was your fault that it happened. If you truly care for her, tell her to wait in the ambulance for you.
CJ holds his bloodied hand up to the camera.
Physical wounds heal, but the mental scars I'll give you...won't. Count your hours, Soldado. Soon, you'll be going from a mediocre midcarder to a mauled and mangled mess.
CJ dips the knife in the blood and writes "despair" on the ground as the camera slowly fades to black.
Marvelous, isn't it? The beautiful crimson that runs within us pours onto the ground. It doesn't hurt. It's just a physical scar, which means it'll heal in no time. It's the mental scars that cause the most pain. If you don't believe me, you can ask Soldado after our brawl on the upcoming CruiserClash.
CJ stops himself and shakes his head.
No, that's wrong. It isn't a brawl despite the phrase that's being used to describe it. It's more of a St. Patrick's Day Slaughter with Soldado as my sacrifice. You should be honored that the hands of fate picked you to be here. I know you're not as happy as I am though. I get that. I pin you in the ring in our triple threat bout a few days ago, and now you're forced to face me again. When I say "forced" I don't mean because you're being held at gunpoint. I say it because your own stubbornness and stupidity will prevent you from doing the smart thing and forfeiting because you're desperate. Desperate because you know that what I said last week about you is the truth. Desperate because you saw firsthand just how wide the skill gap is between us, and desperate because your aspirations are becoming impossible to reach. I know you'll try to play tough and talk a good game in order to hide the fact that you're afraid of me. You'll believe that this is your chance to get some revenge by getting away with a fluke win. Hold on to that hope. It'll bring me that much more satisfaction when I drown you in despair.
He laughs to himself as his mind fills with sadistic thoughts.
There are no count outs or disqualifications once again. You don't even get a chance to make it to the ring. For most people, that would level the playing field. Not in this case. That just means I can break you as much as I want to without restraint. The only question is how should I do so in order to maximize your suffering? I've been thinking about cracking your skull against the wall repeatedly until blood rains down your face. Then, we'll go on a tour of the arena as I smash your broken body against every painful and unforgiving object that I come across. I'm gonna enjoy hurting you. Not because of any grudges or animosity. I simply want you to suffer for the sake of enjoying your despair. Oooooh I can't wait until the paramedics have to pick up what's left of you and piece you back together in the hospital. I wonder how your little gal pal will feel after that. Oh that's right. I haven't forgotten about her. As desperate for the spotlight as you are, it wouldn't surprise me if she popped up to try and ambush me. First, it would further prove that you simply can't beat me. Second, I welcome her to try. Despair cares not what gender, race, or age you are. While you're struggling just to move and breathe, I'll powerbomb her into the ground until she's unresponsive. After that, I'll sign my name on her in your blood as a reminder that it was your fault that it happened. If you truly care for her, tell her to wait in the ambulance for you.
CJ holds his bloodied hand up to the camera.
Physical wounds heal, but the mental scars I'll give you...won't. Count your hours, Soldado. Soon, you'll be going from a mediocre midcarder to a mauled and mangled mess.
CJ dips the knife in the blood and writes "despair" on the ground as the camera slowly fades to black.