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AS58: Sam Smith vs. Mister Alhazred

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Viola Moonlight

I'm Literally Just Here for WZCW
The Elite X champion will be without his ally and friend (also current Eurasian champion) Rush who is busy contending with Matt Tastic in a best of three series as he takes on Mister Alhazred in singles competition. This match has been scheduled as a non-title affair but General Manager of Ascension Vance Bateman is looking out for a suitable candidate for Smith to defend his title against at the upcoming PPV and should Alhazred prove successful in impressing the GM, Alhazred just might get a championship opportunity. His win last week against Jacoby Capone saw him earn this opportunity and hopefully Smith's victory is enough momentum to help him defeat this potential challenger.

Deadline is 11:59pm Central Time, Tuesday 22nd January. Extensions as per thread.
 
Sam Smith sat alone at a corner booth in a crowded bar. Sunday nights were usually not this crowded, but it was the NFL playoffs and the Baltimore Ravens were a few plays from solidifying their berth in the Super Bowl. Smith was waiting for Rush, but he was approached by an unexpected visitor.

???: "Mind if I sit down?"

Smith looked up at a familiar face. Bernard Shaw knew Sam very well. He was, after all, the father of Sam's former fiancée -- and, truth be told, the closest thing to a real father figure Sam had ever had in his life. He'd been in Sam's life since Sam was a toddler, he'd been friends with Sam's father since they were about that age, too.

Sam: "Go ahead."

Bernard called for another round of beers and sat across from Sam. He looked at Sam, a mixture of concern and sadness splayed across his face.

Bernard: "Why don't you come around anymore?"

Sam shook his head.

Sam: "I don't really have to answer that, do I?"

Bernard shrugged.

Bernard: "You shouldn't stop dropping by just because you and Chelsea aren't together. "

Sam stared off into the distance. A few moments of silence followed.

Bernard: "She still loves you, Sam. You're breaking her heart, though."

Sam quickly shot back.

Sam: "And how the hell am I doing that?"

Bernard: "Don't play dumb with me. She told me you weren't in great shape -- said you were hooked on pills, or whatever."

Sam: "I'm fine."

Bernard snorted before responding.

Bernard: "I swear, I had this same conversation with your father twenty years ago. The two of you are more and more alike every day."

Sam slammed his hand down onto the table, attracting the attention of a few bar goers.

Sam: "I am NOT my father. He was a drunk, he abandoned his family, and he left his wife to raise two boys by herself while he screwed his secretary and fell asleep in puddles of his own puke every night. For fuck's sake, the only reason he stopped doing any of that was because his wife died and left him to raise us. I am nothing like him."

Bernard: "You're more like him than you'll ever admit, Sam. He's a good man -- he turned his life around. Give him a call some time, maybe it'll help you get past some of your own issues."

Sam: "I'm done having this conversation, Bernard. Walk away."

Bernard stood up from the table and stuck out his right hand.

Bernard: "It was nice seeing you, Sam."

Sam ignored his hand and looked down at the ground.

Sam: "Walk away."

Bernard turned and walked away, leaving Sam to himself.

Sam's mind raced. He couldn't let go of what Bernard has just said. As much as it bothered him, he knew it was true; Sam was exactly like his father. Sam had spent nearly thirty years of his life trying to be anything but his father, trying to get as far away from the man as possible -- it had been rooted inside of his head ever since he was a little boy. Yet, through all that, he found himself falling prey to the very same demons.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A young Sam Smith raced home from school -- he couldn't have been older than 7 or 8. His small backpack was flung across one shoulder, his jeans had grass stains at the knee. He rounded the corner onto his street and caught a glimpse of his driveway in the distance. He could see his father's black Cadillac parked in front of the house. He turned and yelled at his brother, Scott, who slouched behind and walked with some of his friends.

Sam: "Dad's home!"

Sam bolted down the street and up to his front door. He tossed his backpack to the side and crashed through the door to look for his father. He was met with a sight that would remain embedded in his mind for the rest of his life.

Henry Smith stood in front of his wife, Julia, in a drunken rage. He flung vases against the wall, all the while yelling at his frightened wife.

Henry: "Have you been looking through my things?! Huh?!"

Sam's mom sobbed.

Julia: "No, I swear I haven't, honey."

Henry: "You lying bitch!"

Henry drew back and smacked his wife across the face. Just then, he turned and noticed his young son standing in the doorway. Little Sam stood petrified at what he had just seen.


------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sam was drawn back to the present as Rush entered the bar and greeted him.

Rush: "The cab driver took forever to get here. Then, worst of all, the dumbass expected a tip. Really?"

Rush looked up at Sam, who was looking a little pale.

Rush: "You alright, man?"

Sam shook the cobwebs from his head and forced his thoughts to the back of his mind.

Sam: "Yeah, just tired."

Rush nodded.

Rush: "Gotcha. What do you think of your match this week?"

Sam chuckled slightly.

Sam: "I don't even know who I'm facing, bro. Haven't bothered."

Rush shook his head.

Rush: "You won't be too happy with it."

Sam: "Why?"

Rush: "It's Alhazred."

Sam: "Alhazred? Are you shitting me? They're scraping the bottom of the barrel again!"

Rush: "I don't know what's going on, brother. They've got Triple X main eventing with Showtime against Constantine and Holmes, they've got Chris KO against SHIT, but they can't find you anything."

Sam: "I thought we made ourselves very clear that we didn't want to be taken for granted after last week. What the hell am I doing in a match against Alhazred?"

Rush: "Apparently, he'll earn a title shot if he can beat you."

Sam: "What a crock of shit. What has Alhazred done to deserve a match against me -- beat Capone? Hmph. I deserve better than this."

Rush nodded.

Sam: "I'm the greatest damn Elite X Champion in this company's history, and they can't even throw me a match against -- I don't know -- Titus, even after all the wins I've been pulling in? They're grasping at straws to keep me from the top -- to keep me and you from upsetting their perfect little order. They fear us.

I'm sure they're just licking their chops and hoping Alhazred can beat me. Then, I'd look like one hell of a paper champion, wouldn't I? Think about it, he's been around forever, yet he's never been able to accomplish anything except for a mediocre tag run, riding Ty Burna's coattails, and a forgettable singles run. What makes them think he stands a snowballs chance in hell of beating me. I mea--"


Sam's rant was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He quickly answered it and began talking.

Sam: "Okay... Uh-huh... Yeah... I'm glad to hear it... Alright, see you in a few."

Sam looked up at Rush.

Sam: "Forget Alhazred, we've got more pressing things to attend to... He's coming."

Rush: "Is he willing to take us up on our offer?"

Sam smiled.

Sam: "He wants to see WZCW burn just as much as we do."
 
Mister Alhazred sits on the edge of his bed in his hotel room. The lights are off and the shades are down, the only light is a faint red one emanating from his Power Glove. He is in his underwear and nothing else. He grabs a bottle of liquor from the fridge next to him. He opens it and puts it to his lips but stops. He stares at it for a moment, his face slowly becomes angry and he tosses the bottle against the wall, shattering it.

Alhazred: No more distractions, no more alcohol poisoning mind. Last week I said Capone was wasted talent and wasted opportunities and he didn’t know what he had before him. It’s about time I live what I preach. I beat him, the White Van Driver put him down and I got my lesson across to the young punk. But did he really learn anything? I doubt it. The only thing he probably gained from that match was a bruised ego, a sore neck, and more hatred towards me. That hate will pass through him; it will slowly fade away to the back of his brain like all the trends he probably claims he doesn’t follow but actually does. Why am I thinking about Capone? That chapter is done, I beat him and it’s over for now. But what did I learn? What did I gain from defeating him? I believe I’ve learned that the White Van Driver is far more effective than the Triforce Combination was and the Level 5 is.

His phone lights up and he grabs it. It’s a text from Fats:

“No luck finding anything today. Saw Mister come out of his mother’s house early in the morning with trash bags and followed him. He spotted me and managed to get away. One of the bags had something pink sticking out of it. He has Missy for sure. Why is he doing this? Get back to me ASAP”

Alhazred puts his hands on his face and then runs them through his hair. He shakes his head.

Alhazred: More distraction. I have too much bogging me down, I need to trim the fat in my life and focus on WZCW. I’m celebrating a win over Capone like it’s going to save my career or boost me back into the lime light. When in reality it’s just another win. Why did I have to accept her help all those months ago? Nothing has been right since she came storming into my house demanding I better myself. That turned out real well didn’t it Missy? I’m worse than I was before I met you. Before I met you I was just a drunk, angry, power hungry lunatic looking to destroy anything I could. Now I’m a depressed, angry, power hungry lunatic who has faded into near obscurity in this company and has spent almost all of his time looking for a girl he supposedly didn’t like and is claiming to be his downfall. But I at least quit drinking right? I mean that means something right, Missy? My life is a complete mess because of you Missy but its ok because I can just uppercut someone to the moon now right, Missy? Pfft You’re not to blame, the blame is all on me. I was selfish and arrogant and forced you away from me like I’ve forced everyone else. That downward spiral I was on wasn’t because I was looking for you, it was because I’m still looking for myself. I’m looking for where I fit in this company, I’m close to finding it and hopefully when I do I’ll find you.

Behind him in the darkness a cigar is lit and a mask is seen. Alhazred jumps to his feet and looks behind him, he stands in awe with his jaw dropped at the sight of his old manager; Mister. Mister inhales, smiles then exhales the smoke while chuckling to himself.

Mister: Surprised to see me old friend?

Alhazred: Where is she?

Mister: That’s all you can say to me? After all we went through. The wars we fought together, the adventures we had, the laughs we shared, the tears we shed together. All you have to say to me is where is she? You haven’t changed at all since my departure from your life.

Alhazred shakes his head and begins to pace in a small line.

Alhazred: This isn’t real, you’re not real, you can’t be. You’re dead. I saw you a few weeks ago but I convinced myself I made a mistake, there was no way you would be alive.

Alhazred gets in Mister’s face and starts poking at his chest.’

Alhazred: I held you’re bloody, decapitated head and I helped bury you. You. Are. DEAD.

Mister blows a cloud of smoke in Alhazred’s face then takes a seat in a chair next to the window.

Mister: It was just a trick to rid me of you. I knew you were going nowhere and you weren’t improving fast enough for me. But simply quitting wasn’t an option because you’re weak and you feed off the strength of others.

Alhazred: I’m not weak.

Mister: You are weak and far too dependent on others. Look at your career for example. The biggest success you’ve obtained in this company is when you were working with others. You worked with me, Forgotten Powers, Apostles of Chaos, Technology of Chaos even when you slithered into Barbosa and SHIT’s battle you fed off of what they would do to each other. You are a leach, Raziel, a leach. I knew if I simply quit that you would not leave me alone. Look what you’re doing now with Missy. You claim you’re going to find her but did you ever stop to ask yourself; maybe she doesn’t want to be found? At least not by you.

Alhazred stares down at the ground.

Mister: Face it Raziel, you’re a loser, a nothing, a LEACH. You have the gall to use my name before yours and you wore my mask at one time. You do not deserve my name, you didn’t deserve my mask, and you don’t deserve my daughter.

Alhazred’s phone lights up from a text. They both stop and stare at it.

Mister: Read it.

Alhazred picks it up and reads to himself.

Mister: What did it say?

Alhazred: I’m facing Sam Smith this week with a possible future Elite X Title shot on the line.

Mister stands up and walks over to Alhazred. He wraps his arms around Alhazred.

Mister: You may be a loser but at least you’re not Sam Smith.

He winks and laughs. Alhazred chuckles.

Mister makes his way to the door.

Alhazred walks to the window and pulls up the shades.

Alhazred: I will get her back you know. I’ll stop whatever plan you have. You know that.

Mister: Sure you will.

Mister puts his cigar on in an ash tray on table by the door and leaves the room, turning the lights off before he does. Alhazred stares out the window and the city below him.

Alhazred: I’m not a loser. I’m not a winner, but I’m not a loser. Sam Smith, I hope you don’t take me lightly. Not after a night like this, not when momentum is finally shifting my way. I didn’t deserve her and don’t now. But soon I will. Your title is the key that unlocks the doorway to all of my hopes and dreams and wants. I need it. I need it far more than you probably want it. You act like it’s beneath you, like you should be wearing the WZCW Title instead when deep down you know that without Rush, you wouldn’t even have it. He changed you, he made you better and he’s your crutch, much like so many others were mine. You toiled in the mid and under card for a long time before getting where you are and it’s because of him and him only. You are not better than you were before you are simply feeding off the greatness of the one you walk beside. His glow shines so brightly it even hides the faults of the ones around him, you Sam Smith. Mister was right when he said I was a leach but not in the way he describes it. I’m a leach for blood and power and pride. I feed off your pain and suffering. The anguish you feel when I crush all that you have built up over the last few months will go down my stomach so smoothly. I need this win Smith, I need it bad. I’m backed into a corner and I’m fighting way out right now. You are in my way and you will pay. White Van Driver or Level 5, you pick your poison. Even if I’m not certain about anything that happens in my life outside of that ring, I am always certain that when I step through those ropes, my Power Glove will destroy everything in its path. It’s over, Smith your reign is done. That belt will be mine soon enough and you can fade back into obscurity. I will become better, I will evolve, something you seem to have a tough time doing. Accept the inevitable, accept your mediocrity, accept the fact that you have reached your peek, and accept the fact that you cannot win and I cannot lose.

Alhazred continues to stare out the window as the scene fades to black.



 
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