Post by DAN on Dec 19, 2006 11:01:02 GMT -5
So here I am, faced with the opportunity of a lifetime. One chance to prove to the world that I am the most dominant force within the entire WFWF, one chance to prove to everyone that I am worthy of becoming the WFWF Champion, one chance to live out a dream. Eight men, all different to the other, each unique in their own way all sharing the same common bond, each realising that their dreams, hopes and aspirations are now within reach of being clinched. For years, each of these men have conquered their demons, beaten many obstacles and overcome everything that has been put in their way as now finally, all the blood that has poured, all the bruises that have grown and all the scars that remain will pay off as now, each man is granted the opportunity to prove that they are the best in the business.
The strong, blustery wind picks up in speed, as the once clear blue sky seems a distant memory as dark, grey clouds begin to gather up above. The surrounding area, full of roses, some planted recently, others growing old appear as a beautiful, scenic landscape as the entire field is filled with the colour white, with the flowers swaying in the direction of which the wind blows. Nothing, other than the occasional roar of gale force winds can be heard as all seems dead, with no one in sight. A large, black crow appears from the field, flapping its wings while still positioned on the ground. After a few moments, the large bird of prey takes off and flies off into the gloomy, depressing sky, all alone.
On the horizon of this massive, white rose field a small, tiny figure appears, walking amongst the flowers. As the howling wind roars through, the figure appears to increase in size as it continues its journey through the white roses. A group of crows scatter from the field and fly off into the sky, disturbing the roses as the figure seems to walk right into them, causing them to fly off in fear. The figure increases in size as it continues moving, as it appears to extend its arms out and brush the roses gently as it passes. The figure appears to have long, brown hair that blows rapidly in the wind, sometimes covering the already covered face. The figure halts in its tracks.
As the figure stands still, it looks up into the heavens for a moment before raising its hands slowly into the air. This huge figure stands approximately 6ft 5inches tall as it’s muscular arms are scattered with dozens of scars from shoulder to wrist, each different in length, depth and shape as every individual one has its own story to tell. This figure fashions an open, blue, sleeveless shirt as all of a sudden, with great force, the figure slams its arms downwards while clenching its fists as the heavens open and rain comes pouring down onto the rose field. The figure throws its hair over its head as; standing in them middle of this picturesque landscape is the 320lbs Macabre.
For the first time in my life I have been granted an opportunity. Never before have I been given such a chance at such glory, until now. In my so called childhood I was given nothing, I was never given the chances that other people were offered. The opportunity of an education never crossed my mind; I was too busy experiencing the ultimate paranoia as to where the next fist would come from to even contemplate the complex theories of Albert Einstein, the sweet poetic writing technique of William Shakespeare, the detailed formulas of Isaac Newton or the wise words of Mohattma Gandhi. The chance of making friends was non existent, self-confidence was beaten out of me at an early age as for years upon years I’d sit between four walls, staring at the cracks, scratches and many different markings that appeared through violence within my childhood. Thoughts of ‘what if’ and ‘maybe’ raced through my mind and whenever I dared believe in myself, I was knocked down to the ground and was back to where I started. How could I make friends if I can’t even look at myself? The opportunity of experiencing love, respect and being treated as a human being never came about. From the moment I was born, I was never loved, from the moment I could talk, I wasn’t respected and from the moment I first felt the force of another human’s fist, I knew I would never be treated like a human being.
The rain comes crashing down on Macabre as he stands looking down on the ground with his head bowed. His long, brown hair hangs over his face as the giant shows no signs of movement, let alone emotion. His scarred body, a representation of a poor upbringing reflects Macabre’s reasons for why he is the most dominant force within the WFWF. The sky above is now as grey as ever, as the once scenic and picturesque landscape now appears to be a depressing and ugly sight, in which Macabre stands in the centre. The raindrops race down onto the roses below, crashing into the petals before slowly rolling off the tip and falling down into the soil, saturating it completely. The floor slowly turns from a soft, even surface to muddy, boggy flooring as Macabre remains motionless. Suddenly, Macabre jolts his head upwards and throws his dripping wet hair over his shoulders as droplets of water are thrown everywhere.
Then it came. The first real taste of an opportunity before the one I’ve been granted now. After years of waiting, after years of suffering, after years of experiencing immense torture and excruciating pain the opportunity arose, an opportunity to escape this ‘childhood’ and escape all that it brings.
Childhood to me was seeing more blood than a backstreet dentist, being beaten harder than an illegal back alley gym punch bag and being shown less respect than a rotting corpse. The opportunity came as Satan arose. The devil himself granted me my first taste of an opportunity and led me away from the bloodshed, away from the scars and bruises and away from the mental and physical heartache. He brought me, home. Satan brought me to the WFWF, a place where I could unleash a decades worth of built up anger, rage and physical and mental pain out on whoever I wanted. The anger, the rage and the pain still remains inside of me but with each opponent, a little piece of it dissolves as I inject all of my pain into the lives of those who stand in my way.
Macabre looks to his left as an entire patch of white roses are in his vision for acres of land are filled with these white flowers for as far as the eye can see. Macabre begins to walk to his left, brushing the roses as he passes. Some bounce of his thighs while other gently graze his thick skinned, scarred hands as he makes his way through the field. As he walks, his huge boots plod through the boggy mud below, producing a unique sound below the flowers. After a short while, Macabre halts again. The Macabre One, drenched from top to bottom in rain water looks down at the rose field, as if he is concentrating hard on one area of the vast field. Past the dripping wet hair and through the leather mask, his eyes appear fixed on one particular area as one single raindrop slowly makes its way down his face. Gently, it trickles past his right eye, down to his cheek and onto his chin as it dangles from the jaw. Anticipating the inevitable fall, the raindrop slowly hangs on to Macabre’s face until it cannot hold on any longer. The raindrop falls from his face and crash lands on a rose, the one Macabre appears to be staring at.
Just like me, you are different. You appear to be the outcast from everyone around you, nothing like the ones who stand beside. Even though you know you are just the same as them, you have come to realise deep inside of yourself that you are nothing like them at all. You accept this.
Macabre crouches down into the rose field and places the tips of his thumb and finger around the stem of a red rose. With barely any force at all Macabre plucks the flower from the ground as tiny raindrops scatter. The vibrant red petals stand out from a million miles away, just as this 6ft 4inch Macabre Monster did in this once scenic place. The roots of the rose dangle from the bottom of the flower as Macabre holds it up high, as it catches the rain like a cup inside of the petals. Macabre brings the rose to his chest and rises it to his nose as he sniffs the scent the rose may offer. Macabre closes his eyes as if he feels he has some sort of connection or bond with this flower. He brings it back to his chest where he clutches it tightly.
The opportunity has arrived. After decades of brutality, the chance has come to prove to the world what I am all about. The stage has been set for one of the most intense, explosive and unique wars of all time as I along with “The Offensive Exhibitionist” Yukio Blaze, the transformed Miguel Sanchez, the self proclaimed “Next One” Calvin Lee, “The King Of Gore” Obo, the badass biker Wayne McGurk, the first ever Orgy Champion Kurt Burton and the “WFWFs Living Saviour” Reverend Shadow compete for the WFWF World Heavyweight Title. Over the next month or two, potential will be realised, hearts will be broken, hopes and dreams will be shattered and blood will pour as there will be hell on Earth.
The Macabre Monster remains anchored to the same spot that he has been stood for the entire time. The immovable object remains clutching the rose as he appears to softly stroke each individual red petal, as Macabre seems to show a caress side to him. The rain continues to pour down, heavier than before as the sound of the pouring precipitation is matched only by the roaring winds as his long, brown hair blows all over the place. His blue shirt now saturated sticks to his chest as the scars that tattoo his torso are visible to the naked eye. One huge gash lines the centre of his chest as Macabre’s crimson red rose rests peacefully against it.
As my journey to glory begins, the first obstacle standing in my way is the current WFWF International Champion Wayne McGurk. I can compare McGurk to so many things in my life, the mental heartache, the physical punishment and the beatings of my father all of which I have overcome. They were just three things in my life that I managed to defeat and McGurk, I plan on adding you to that list. You’re the WFWF International Champion McGurk, however status means nothing to me, and in my eyes you are nothing but a 275lb anatomy on death row. You’re standing in the way of an unstoppable force McGurk, one in which you cannot control. I am heading to the top and as your standing directly in my way, and with no signs of moving you must take full responsibility for my actions. At Crimson Existence, it will be your last existence McGurk, as I plan on eliminating any thought you may have of defeating me and becoming the WFWF World Heavyweight champion. Come Crimson Existence, you will soon come to realise the International champion is all you are and all you will ever be as when you look across that ring and see a 325lbs, 6ft 5inch Macabre Monster, covered in scars and scattered with bruises your knees will go weak, your heart will begin to race faster and your blood temperature will decrease immensely and before you realise just what you have gotten yourself into, you will be hung up in the air and slammed down to reality as I put you in your place and move onto the next stage in my journey to capture the WFWF World Heavyweight Title.
Macabre, still holding the rose, falls to his knees as the muddy water beneath him splashes into the air. Macabre bows his head as the rain continues to race down onto him. The giant holds the rose with his left hand as he scrapes the muddy ground with his right and pulls the Earth beneath him up into the air as he watches the mud drip through his fingers and splatter onto the ground again. As Macabre continues to kneel down on the ground, the racing rain crashes into the soil and splashes onto him as he once again appears to stroke the petals, however this time Macabre is seen fashioning a sadistic smile that emphasises his unpredictable emotions and unstableness within his character.
McGurk, you are just one insignificant challenge that I must overcome to reach my goal. As you prepare for battle I await to hand out your punishment as this rose signifies that the end, for you is on the horizon. As I remove one petal, the representation is made as the individual rose petal symbolises your fate and is a glance as to what is to come at Crimson Existence. Wayne McGurk, the end is near.
Macabre, holding the rose with his left hand with his fingers tightly clutching the green stem brings his right hand to the petals. He protrudes his thumb and finger to one of the petals as he slowly tears it from the rest of the flower. The smile on his face remains as the flower silently screams in pain, symbolic of McGurk’s fate. Macabre raises the rose petal into the air as the rain crashes into it. He watches it blow in the gale winds before letting it go as it initially begins to slowly fall to the ground but a quick surge of wind causes it to rise into the air and blow off into an easterly direction, over the white rose field. The journey of the petal is now off course as Macabre stands to his feet as two mud patches remain on his knees. The giant, still clutching the rose that is now missing a petal walks off into the field as his figure gets smaller by each step he takes into the distance.
The strong, blustery wind picks up in speed, as the once clear blue sky seems a distant memory as dark, grey clouds begin to gather up above. The surrounding area, full of roses, some planted recently, others growing old appear as a beautiful, scenic landscape as the entire field is filled with the colour white, with the flowers swaying in the direction of which the wind blows. Nothing, other than the occasional roar of gale force winds can be heard as all seems dead, with no one in sight. A large, black crow appears from the field, flapping its wings while still positioned on the ground. After a few moments, the large bird of prey takes off and flies off into the gloomy, depressing sky, all alone.
On the horizon of this massive, white rose field a small, tiny figure appears, walking amongst the flowers. As the howling wind roars through, the figure appears to increase in size as it continues its journey through the white roses. A group of crows scatter from the field and fly off into the sky, disturbing the roses as the figure seems to walk right into them, causing them to fly off in fear. The figure increases in size as it continues moving, as it appears to extend its arms out and brush the roses gently as it passes. The figure appears to have long, brown hair that blows rapidly in the wind, sometimes covering the already covered face. The figure halts in its tracks.
As the figure stands still, it looks up into the heavens for a moment before raising its hands slowly into the air. This huge figure stands approximately 6ft 5inches tall as it’s muscular arms are scattered with dozens of scars from shoulder to wrist, each different in length, depth and shape as every individual one has its own story to tell. This figure fashions an open, blue, sleeveless shirt as all of a sudden, with great force, the figure slams its arms downwards while clenching its fists as the heavens open and rain comes pouring down onto the rose field. The figure throws its hair over its head as; standing in them middle of this picturesque landscape is the 320lbs Macabre.
For the first time in my life I have been granted an opportunity. Never before have I been given such a chance at such glory, until now. In my so called childhood I was given nothing, I was never given the chances that other people were offered. The opportunity of an education never crossed my mind; I was too busy experiencing the ultimate paranoia as to where the next fist would come from to even contemplate the complex theories of Albert Einstein, the sweet poetic writing technique of William Shakespeare, the detailed formulas of Isaac Newton or the wise words of Mohattma Gandhi. The chance of making friends was non existent, self-confidence was beaten out of me at an early age as for years upon years I’d sit between four walls, staring at the cracks, scratches and many different markings that appeared through violence within my childhood. Thoughts of ‘what if’ and ‘maybe’ raced through my mind and whenever I dared believe in myself, I was knocked down to the ground and was back to where I started. How could I make friends if I can’t even look at myself? The opportunity of experiencing love, respect and being treated as a human being never came about. From the moment I was born, I was never loved, from the moment I could talk, I wasn’t respected and from the moment I first felt the force of another human’s fist, I knew I would never be treated like a human being.
The rain comes crashing down on Macabre as he stands looking down on the ground with his head bowed. His long, brown hair hangs over his face as the giant shows no signs of movement, let alone emotion. His scarred body, a representation of a poor upbringing reflects Macabre’s reasons for why he is the most dominant force within the WFWF. The sky above is now as grey as ever, as the once scenic and picturesque landscape now appears to be a depressing and ugly sight, in which Macabre stands in the centre. The raindrops race down onto the roses below, crashing into the petals before slowly rolling off the tip and falling down into the soil, saturating it completely. The floor slowly turns from a soft, even surface to muddy, boggy flooring as Macabre remains motionless. Suddenly, Macabre jolts his head upwards and throws his dripping wet hair over his shoulders as droplets of water are thrown everywhere.
Then it came. The first real taste of an opportunity before the one I’ve been granted now. After years of waiting, after years of suffering, after years of experiencing immense torture and excruciating pain the opportunity arose, an opportunity to escape this ‘childhood’ and escape all that it brings.
Childhood to me was seeing more blood than a backstreet dentist, being beaten harder than an illegal back alley gym punch bag and being shown less respect than a rotting corpse. The opportunity came as Satan arose. The devil himself granted me my first taste of an opportunity and led me away from the bloodshed, away from the scars and bruises and away from the mental and physical heartache. He brought me, home. Satan brought me to the WFWF, a place where I could unleash a decades worth of built up anger, rage and physical and mental pain out on whoever I wanted. The anger, the rage and the pain still remains inside of me but with each opponent, a little piece of it dissolves as I inject all of my pain into the lives of those who stand in my way.
Macabre looks to his left as an entire patch of white roses are in his vision for acres of land are filled with these white flowers for as far as the eye can see. Macabre begins to walk to his left, brushing the roses as he passes. Some bounce of his thighs while other gently graze his thick skinned, scarred hands as he makes his way through the field. As he walks, his huge boots plod through the boggy mud below, producing a unique sound below the flowers. After a short while, Macabre halts again. The Macabre One, drenched from top to bottom in rain water looks down at the rose field, as if he is concentrating hard on one area of the vast field. Past the dripping wet hair and through the leather mask, his eyes appear fixed on one particular area as one single raindrop slowly makes its way down his face. Gently, it trickles past his right eye, down to his cheek and onto his chin as it dangles from the jaw. Anticipating the inevitable fall, the raindrop slowly hangs on to Macabre’s face until it cannot hold on any longer. The raindrop falls from his face and crash lands on a rose, the one Macabre appears to be staring at.
Just like me, you are different. You appear to be the outcast from everyone around you, nothing like the ones who stand beside. Even though you know you are just the same as them, you have come to realise deep inside of yourself that you are nothing like them at all. You accept this.
Macabre crouches down into the rose field and places the tips of his thumb and finger around the stem of a red rose. With barely any force at all Macabre plucks the flower from the ground as tiny raindrops scatter. The vibrant red petals stand out from a million miles away, just as this 6ft 4inch Macabre Monster did in this once scenic place. The roots of the rose dangle from the bottom of the flower as Macabre holds it up high, as it catches the rain like a cup inside of the petals. Macabre brings the rose to his chest and rises it to his nose as he sniffs the scent the rose may offer. Macabre closes his eyes as if he feels he has some sort of connection or bond with this flower. He brings it back to his chest where he clutches it tightly.
The opportunity has arrived. After decades of brutality, the chance has come to prove to the world what I am all about. The stage has been set for one of the most intense, explosive and unique wars of all time as I along with “The Offensive Exhibitionist” Yukio Blaze, the transformed Miguel Sanchez, the self proclaimed “Next One” Calvin Lee, “The King Of Gore” Obo, the badass biker Wayne McGurk, the first ever Orgy Champion Kurt Burton and the “WFWFs Living Saviour” Reverend Shadow compete for the WFWF World Heavyweight Title. Over the next month or two, potential will be realised, hearts will be broken, hopes and dreams will be shattered and blood will pour as there will be hell on Earth.
The Macabre Monster remains anchored to the same spot that he has been stood for the entire time. The immovable object remains clutching the rose as he appears to softly stroke each individual red petal, as Macabre seems to show a caress side to him. The rain continues to pour down, heavier than before as the sound of the pouring precipitation is matched only by the roaring winds as his long, brown hair blows all over the place. His blue shirt now saturated sticks to his chest as the scars that tattoo his torso are visible to the naked eye. One huge gash lines the centre of his chest as Macabre’s crimson red rose rests peacefully against it.
As my journey to glory begins, the first obstacle standing in my way is the current WFWF International Champion Wayne McGurk. I can compare McGurk to so many things in my life, the mental heartache, the physical punishment and the beatings of my father all of which I have overcome. They were just three things in my life that I managed to defeat and McGurk, I plan on adding you to that list. You’re the WFWF International Champion McGurk, however status means nothing to me, and in my eyes you are nothing but a 275lb anatomy on death row. You’re standing in the way of an unstoppable force McGurk, one in which you cannot control. I am heading to the top and as your standing directly in my way, and with no signs of moving you must take full responsibility for my actions. At Crimson Existence, it will be your last existence McGurk, as I plan on eliminating any thought you may have of defeating me and becoming the WFWF World Heavyweight champion. Come Crimson Existence, you will soon come to realise the International champion is all you are and all you will ever be as when you look across that ring and see a 325lbs, 6ft 5inch Macabre Monster, covered in scars and scattered with bruises your knees will go weak, your heart will begin to race faster and your blood temperature will decrease immensely and before you realise just what you have gotten yourself into, you will be hung up in the air and slammed down to reality as I put you in your place and move onto the next stage in my journey to capture the WFWF World Heavyweight Title.
Macabre, still holding the rose, falls to his knees as the muddy water beneath him splashes into the air. Macabre bows his head as the rain continues to race down onto him. The giant holds the rose with his left hand as he scrapes the muddy ground with his right and pulls the Earth beneath him up into the air as he watches the mud drip through his fingers and splatter onto the ground again. As Macabre continues to kneel down on the ground, the racing rain crashes into the soil and splashes onto him as he once again appears to stroke the petals, however this time Macabre is seen fashioning a sadistic smile that emphasises his unpredictable emotions and unstableness within his character.
McGurk, you are just one insignificant challenge that I must overcome to reach my goal. As you prepare for battle I await to hand out your punishment as this rose signifies that the end, for you is on the horizon. As I remove one petal, the representation is made as the individual rose petal symbolises your fate and is a glance as to what is to come at Crimson Existence. Wayne McGurk, the end is near.
Macabre, holding the rose with his left hand with his fingers tightly clutching the green stem brings his right hand to the petals. He protrudes his thumb and finger to one of the petals as he slowly tears it from the rest of the flower. The smile on his face remains as the flower silently screams in pain, symbolic of McGurk’s fate. Macabre raises the rose petal into the air as the rain crashes into it. He watches it blow in the gale winds before letting it go as it initially begins to slowly fall to the ground but a quick surge of wind causes it to rise into the air and blow off into an easterly direction, over the white rose field. The journey of the petal is now off course as Macabre stands to his feet as two mud patches remain on his knees. The giant, still clutching the rose that is now missing a petal walks off into the field as his figure gets smaller by each step he takes into the distance.
