MD102: Diabolos vs. Blade
- Thread starter Harthan
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Richard Blonoff
Make America Rassle Again
Match has been granted a 24 hour extension.
I’m in the middle of a tunnel. It’s a long, stone archway that seems to go on forever with a brilliant light at the end. Like those stories you hear from those who have come close to dying. I take a step forward, and another and another. But I can’t get any closer. The light actually seems to be getting further away from me. But I have to know what’s at the end. I need to know. There are answers at the end. The answers that I need right now.
But in an instant, everything changes. I’m standing in the middle of a bar. My favourite one from back home. Smoke filters through the room. There’s groups of people dotted around, smiling, chatting and laughing. But I can’t hear any of it.
My eyes are drawn to a dark figure in the corner, and I find myself walking towards it. It’s sitting at a table, and empty glass in front of it. As I get closer, I see the figure, but I don’t know who it is. A shadow seems to be covering his face. And yet, the features that I do see are vaguely familiar to me.
I sit down opposite the figure. No words are exchanged for a several moments. Among the shadow, I see a pair of eyes. They stare right into me, and I can’t look away.
Finally, the figure speaks.
“Have you been able to get the blood off your hands?” he asks, a little relish in the voice. A voice that I’m certain I know, but can’t quite place.
“What blood?” I respond.
“You attacked an essentially unarmed man. One with mental issues, by the looks of it.”
“Hey, in my defence—“ I begin.
“You think you deserve a defence?” the figure cuts in with a scoff.
“Don’t I?”
“Does Diabolos?”
“Are you really comparing me to him?” I growl, offended.
“Are you really all that different? You attacked him last week. Without provocation--”
“Hey, it wasn’t without provocation,” I try to interrupt.
“--Just like he did with your friend Bob,” the figure finishes.
“That was different.”
The figure laughs. It sends a chill down my spine.
“Sure. I’m not disappointed in you for attacking Diabolos. I’m disappointed in you for not owning it. I thought, with everything that happened between you and Triple X, you were going to change. Man, it was going to be great. Just like old times. Remember when you knew what you wanted? And when you didn’t get what you wanted, people got hurt? Good times.”
“I haven’t forgotten what Triple X did to me. And I haven’t forgotten that I want to change.”
“You beat up Diabolos, and suddenly you’re the old Blade? I haven’t seen you change at all. Not really. You just got a little aggression out on that freak,” scoffs the figure.
“Yeah. You haven’t seen me change. But maybe it’s already happened. Maybe there’s already something in play right now that is bigger than just me.” I say, truly believing the words that I’m saying.
“Another one of your causes? Christ. Your only cause used to be to become world champion.”
“Your goals change when you change.”
“Wasn’t that the whole point of bringing out that old Blade? That old fire? So you could take what you want, like you used to?”
“Look, I can't regress now. If you remember correctly, old Blade never got that World Title either, so I can’t depend on being that old version of myself. It didn’t work the first time, why would it work now? So I’m moving forward. But believe me… I have changed since a month ago. And when it all comes together… It’s going to be glorious.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Me too.” I mutter.
Then, everything goes black.
-----------------------------------------------------
I walk through the halls of the arena hosting this week’s set of shows. There’s a strange atmosphere. Things are changing, but no one can quite but their finger on it.
As I walk past staff members, I feel like everyone is watching me. Maybe I’m being paranoid, but it feels like people are scared of me again. I kind of like it. It feels right.
I get to my locker room, and Becky Serra is there waiting for me.
“Hi.” She says with a hint of apprehension.
“Hey, Becky,” I reply, trying to sound as warm as possible. I owe her that much.
I open the locker room door and walk inside. I throw my back to the side and fall into the couch. I take a second to just enjoy being off my feet for a moment, before taking out a cigarette.
Becky stands in the doorway, letting me do what I have to do. I inhale that first drag, and the nicotine courses through my veins and right into my head. Things feel a little lighter.
Becky walks inside and sits down across from me.
“So, can I ask you about Diabolos?”
“You wouldn’t be very good at your job if you didn’t,” I grin back.
“What happened last week?” she asks, still sounding a little uncomfortable to be around me.
“I gave him what he deserved,” I respond, hearing the callousness in my tone.
“Was that what he deserved? To be attacked? You could’ve just requested a match with him and settled it in the ring. I mean, I'm not a fan of Diabolos or what he's done. But you shouldn't be dropping down to his level like that...
“He needed a taste of his own medicine, Becky. And I was more than happy to give it to him. And now, I’ll finish him off on Meltdown.”
I sit back and take a long drag. I watch as Becky shakes her head sadly. She can’t seem to look me in the eye since I broke down in front of her before Unscripted.
“I was hoping, after everything with Triple X, you wouldn’t get back into that frame of mind. I thought you’d be able to move on,” she sighs.
“Y'know, I thought that too. But then I lost. Something may have snapped in me before I fought X, but it wasn’t enough. So I’m wondering now, why should I care that I lost to X? Why should I care that I lose to anyone? Wins or losses don’t matter at this point. What matters right now is hurting Diabolos.” The coldness with which I say this is even starting to freak me out a little.
“Would you have attacked Diabolos if you hadn’t lost to X?”
I look into her eyes, irritated.
“What are you implying?” I think I know the answer already.
“I think you were scared. Scared of Triple X, and what he did to you. Scared that, after everything, you still couldn’t beat him. Scared about how he nearly ended your career. So you decided to attack Diabolos to make yourself feel a little more in control. So that you aren’t afraid anymore.”
“Why are you playing psychologist, Becky? The fact is, Diabolos injured my friend. He got Bob fired. He has ruined the life of someone I cared about, and now I’m going to make him pay for that. It’s not about me being scared, it’s not about whatever I feel after losing to Triple X. It’s about revenge. Plain and simple.” I finish abruptly. I’m starting to get angry, as the cigarette burns down. My fists are clenched, somewhat threateningly.
“You say that, but—“
I stand up, throwing the remnants of my cigarette down on the table. It causes a black burn in the table, from which some smoke rises, the odor of burning wood filling the room.
“You can think what you want, Becky. You can read into things that aren’t there. But I’m not scared. I’m not scared of anyone or anything. And right now, after what I did to Diabolos, people should be scared of me. And I’m going to show everyone why on Meltdown, when I get into the ring with that freak, and make him pay for what he’s done.”
I storm out. Becky stays sitting. She takes the cigarette butt off the table, putting it out in the ashtray. She sighs and gets up, following me out of the room.
But in an instant, everything changes. I’m standing in the middle of a bar. My favourite one from back home. Smoke filters through the room. There’s groups of people dotted around, smiling, chatting and laughing. But I can’t hear any of it.
My eyes are drawn to a dark figure in the corner, and I find myself walking towards it. It’s sitting at a table, and empty glass in front of it. As I get closer, I see the figure, but I don’t know who it is. A shadow seems to be covering his face. And yet, the features that I do see are vaguely familiar to me.
I sit down opposite the figure. No words are exchanged for a several moments. Among the shadow, I see a pair of eyes. They stare right into me, and I can’t look away.
Finally, the figure speaks.
“Have you been able to get the blood off your hands?” he asks, a little relish in the voice. A voice that I’m certain I know, but can’t quite place.
“What blood?” I respond.
“You attacked an essentially unarmed man. One with mental issues, by the looks of it.”
“Hey, in my defence—“ I begin.
“You think you deserve a defence?” the figure cuts in with a scoff.
“Don’t I?”
“Does Diabolos?”
“Are you really comparing me to him?” I growl, offended.
“Are you really all that different? You attacked him last week. Without provocation--”
“Hey, it wasn’t without provocation,” I try to interrupt.
“--Just like he did with your friend Bob,” the figure finishes.
“That was different.”
The figure laughs. It sends a chill down my spine.
“Sure. I’m not disappointed in you for attacking Diabolos. I’m disappointed in you for not owning it. I thought, with everything that happened between you and Triple X, you were going to change. Man, it was going to be great. Just like old times. Remember when you knew what you wanted? And when you didn’t get what you wanted, people got hurt? Good times.”
“I haven’t forgotten what Triple X did to me. And I haven’t forgotten that I want to change.”
“You beat up Diabolos, and suddenly you’re the old Blade? I haven’t seen you change at all. Not really. You just got a little aggression out on that freak,” scoffs the figure.
“Yeah. You haven’t seen me change. But maybe it’s already happened. Maybe there’s already something in play right now that is bigger than just me.” I say, truly believing the words that I’m saying.
“Another one of your causes? Christ. Your only cause used to be to become world champion.”
“Your goals change when you change.”
“Wasn’t that the whole point of bringing out that old Blade? That old fire? So you could take what you want, like you used to?”
“Look, I can't regress now. If you remember correctly, old Blade never got that World Title either, so I can’t depend on being that old version of myself. It didn’t work the first time, why would it work now? So I’m moving forward. But believe me… I have changed since a month ago. And when it all comes together… It’s going to be glorious.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Me too.” I mutter.
Then, everything goes black.
-----------------------------------------------------
I walk through the halls of the arena hosting this week’s set of shows. There’s a strange atmosphere. Things are changing, but no one can quite but their finger on it.
As I walk past staff members, I feel like everyone is watching me. Maybe I’m being paranoid, but it feels like people are scared of me again. I kind of like it. It feels right.
I get to my locker room, and Becky Serra is there waiting for me.
“Hi.” She says with a hint of apprehension.
“Hey, Becky,” I reply, trying to sound as warm as possible. I owe her that much.
I open the locker room door and walk inside. I throw my back to the side and fall into the couch. I take a second to just enjoy being off my feet for a moment, before taking out a cigarette.
Becky stands in the doorway, letting me do what I have to do. I inhale that first drag, and the nicotine courses through my veins and right into my head. Things feel a little lighter.
Becky walks inside and sits down across from me.
“So, can I ask you about Diabolos?”
“You wouldn’t be very good at your job if you didn’t,” I grin back.
“What happened last week?” she asks, still sounding a little uncomfortable to be around me.
“I gave him what he deserved,” I respond, hearing the callousness in my tone.
“Was that what he deserved? To be attacked? You could’ve just requested a match with him and settled it in the ring. I mean, I'm not a fan of Diabolos or what he's done. But you shouldn't be dropping down to his level like that...
“He needed a taste of his own medicine, Becky. And I was more than happy to give it to him. And now, I’ll finish him off on Meltdown.”
I sit back and take a long drag. I watch as Becky shakes her head sadly. She can’t seem to look me in the eye since I broke down in front of her before Unscripted.
“I was hoping, after everything with Triple X, you wouldn’t get back into that frame of mind. I thought you’d be able to move on,” she sighs.
“Y'know, I thought that too. But then I lost. Something may have snapped in me before I fought X, but it wasn’t enough. So I’m wondering now, why should I care that I lost to X? Why should I care that I lose to anyone? Wins or losses don’t matter at this point. What matters right now is hurting Diabolos.” The coldness with which I say this is even starting to freak me out a little.
“Would you have attacked Diabolos if you hadn’t lost to X?”
I look into her eyes, irritated.
“What are you implying?” I think I know the answer already.
“I think you were scared. Scared of Triple X, and what he did to you. Scared that, after everything, you still couldn’t beat him. Scared about how he nearly ended your career. So you decided to attack Diabolos to make yourself feel a little more in control. So that you aren’t afraid anymore.”
“Why are you playing psychologist, Becky? The fact is, Diabolos injured my friend. He got Bob fired. He has ruined the life of someone I cared about, and now I’m going to make him pay for that. It’s not about me being scared, it’s not about whatever I feel after losing to Triple X. It’s about revenge. Plain and simple.” I finish abruptly. I’m starting to get angry, as the cigarette burns down. My fists are clenched, somewhat threateningly.
“You say that, but—“
I stand up, throwing the remnants of my cigarette down on the table. It causes a black burn in the table, from which some smoke rises, the odor of burning wood filling the room.
“You can think what you want, Becky. You can read into things that aren’t there. But I’m not scared. I’m not scared of anyone or anything. And right now, after what I did to Diabolos, people should be scared of me. And I’m going to show everyone why on Meltdown, when I get into the ring with that freak, and make him pay for what he’s done.”
I storm out. Becky stays sitting. She takes the cigarette butt off the table, putting it out in the ashtray. She sighs and gets up, following me out of the room.
red ass skull muhfukkah
Dooooooooooooom
Diabolos: Who do you think you are Blade?
Pitch blackness is all this seen. An owl hoots, wind rustles through tree branches. Slowly the skeleton face of Diabolos' mask fades out of the darkness. Under his mask you can see bruises on his face.
Diabolos: Who do you think you are? Do you think you matter? Do you think anything you do is of any significance? You are nothing and nobody. That's all you have ever been and it is all you will ever be. Nothing.
Diabolos continues to stare straight ahead, not even a blink.
Diabolos: You dare attack the great and devious one? Unprovoked and uncalled for. All I was trying to do is ask how you've been managing without your best bud by your side. But you viciously assault me with no provocation or cause. I can understand that you're frustrated. You've lost and lost matches, year after year, never getting anywhere. You try your best and just when you think you're about to accomplish something great...you fail. You fail Blade. You always fail and you always will. But to take you're failures out on little, old me? Well that's just petty and shows how truly weak you are. Do you have any idea what hell you just signed yourself up for? Do you?!
A soft thunder rolls off in the distance. Diabolos lets out a small giggle.
Diabolos: You just opened the door to your own destruction. Ask your old pal Bob about that, he'd tell you first hand if he was still around. But he's not, Blade, he's not. I ended him. You're best friend, a man you looked up to, went to for guidance and comfort; ended by my right hand of doom. Now what do you have Blade, huh? What? You had your great rivalry with Triple X and it was oh so exciting to see you two nearly killing yourselves against one another. But you lost to him Blade. You spent all your time, focus and energy on him, hoping that when you finally got your hands on him that you would get your revenge and the glory you so selfishly seek. Maybe, you thought, if I beat someone the caliber of Triple X I would finally accomplish something in my life and maybe I would be somebody. But you're a failure Blade, so you lost and got nothing. You're back to square on, back to doing nothing and being nothing. You failed so miserably against him that he was able to compete and almost win in a Hell in a Cell match the very same night that was supposed to be your ticket to the top. How does that make you feel, Blade? It must not feel good.
Lightning flashes and light up the trees behind him.
Diabolos: Do you here that Blade? Do you hear it? They're calling for you, Blade. I gave them Bob and they were so pleased with me. They called for Izzy and she was given. You're to blame for her injuries, Blade. You're to blame for a girl's dreams getting smashed along with her spine. She had so much potential to do great things and be everything you never will. Unlike you Blade, she could have went to the top, the sky was her limit. But you failed her too Blade and you didn't even realize it. So selfish, so selfish. You take your self hate and failures out on me and infuriate me and the Old Ones. I could have left her alone after she was beaten by those men in suits, I could have just left her lone. But your actions angered the Old Ones and they told me that if I can't make you pay, then someone else will. That someone was Izzy. Now just like Bob, Izzy is gone. Because of your failures. My gods are calling for you, not because you're great or because they think you're blood is worthy of dripping off of my flesh and onto their lips. They're calling for the death of Blade because they are embarrassed that such a worthless excuse for a living being is allowed to walk this earth. How can they allow someone so hideously terrible at every aspect of life to go on breathing? They want your blood drained, your body destroyed, your corpse in the ground, and your flesh to decay into what you truly are; dirt. Maybe then you will finally achieve your goal of being something better.
Thunder crashes and lightning flashes, behind Diabolos stand three skeleton figures. Diabolos looks behind him and laughs, he holds his hands to the sky and brings them to his face.
Diabolos: I'll be honest in saying, I blame myself a bit for Izzy. I mean, how could I resist? She was right there, beautifully laid out and beaten, ripe for the taking. How could I resist placing her head under my legs, wrapping my arms around her waist, lifting her lifeless body up, cradling her, and slamming her head into the canvas? There's no better feeling. I won't get that feeling with you, Blade. I won't feel that rush when I smash your face and cave it in. Sure the blood will feel nice and broken bones against my knuckles is a great feeling, but in the end it's meaningless. I'm destroying someone who has already destroyed himself and all those around him. I'm ending someone who never had a beginning. The only hope I have is that when you lose to me, maybe you'll finally realize that you shouldn't have come back to WZCW, you shouldn't have befriended Bob, you shouldn't have wasted what little energy you had on Triple X, and you shouldn't have attacked me. But it won't matter because as soon as you do, it will all be over. No one will remember you, no one will miss you.
It begins to rain and the thunder and lightning are constant now. One of the skeletons hands Diabolos something, he looks up and smiles. He and his skeletons move out of the way to reveal Grizzly Bob's cabin.
Diabolos: Do you know where I am, Blade? Do you recognize this place? You must. It's Bob's cabin. A place of solace and happiness for you. Again you're selfishness leads to the destruction of another beautiful object. I'm going to burn it to the ground. It's all your fault. Poor Bob should have never become friends with you. Because you are so stupid, you haven't gotten the message that all you touch dies, I have to show you. I have to set this finely crafted home ablaze.
Diabolos puts his hands in the prayer position. While he does his crew poor gasoline all over the cabin and the grounds around it.
Diabolos: Oh mighty Old Ones, please let Grandma make me cookies when I get home. I would ask for your help in beating Blade, but I don't want to waste your time. Thank you.
Diabolos lifts up a lighter .
Diabolos: Burn in hell Blade.
He goes to light the lighter but the rain keeps putting it out. He tries and tries to no avail.
Diabolos: Get over here and help me!
A skeleton runs over and puts his hands over the lighter to cover it from the rain. Diabolos finally gets it lit but the skeleton's hands are covered in gasoline and his arm catches on fire. They both scream, the man runs around trying to put it out.
Diabolos: This is your fault Blade!
Diabolos runs to help as the scene fades to black.
Pitch blackness is all this seen. An owl hoots, wind rustles through tree branches. Slowly the skeleton face of Diabolos' mask fades out of the darkness. Under his mask you can see bruises on his face.
Diabolos: Who do you think you are? Do you think you matter? Do you think anything you do is of any significance? You are nothing and nobody. That's all you have ever been and it is all you will ever be. Nothing.
Diabolos continues to stare straight ahead, not even a blink.
Diabolos: You dare attack the great and devious one? Unprovoked and uncalled for. All I was trying to do is ask how you've been managing without your best bud by your side. But you viciously assault me with no provocation or cause. I can understand that you're frustrated. You've lost and lost matches, year after year, never getting anywhere. You try your best and just when you think you're about to accomplish something great...you fail. You fail Blade. You always fail and you always will. But to take you're failures out on little, old me? Well that's just petty and shows how truly weak you are. Do you have any idea what hell you just signed yourself up for? Do you?!
A soft thunder rolls off in the distance. Diabolos lets out a small giggle.
Diabolos: You just opened the door to your own destruction. Ask your old pal Bob about that, he'd tell you first hand if he was still around. But he's not, Blade, he's not. I ended him. You're best friend, a man you looked up to, went to for guidance and comfort; ended by my right hand of doom. Now what do you have Blade, huh? What? You had your great rivalry with Triple X and it was oh so exciting to see you two nearly killing yourselves against one another. But you lost to him Blade. You spent all your time, focus and energy on him, hoping that when you finally got your hands on him that you would get your revenge and the glory you so selfishly seek. Maybe, you thought, if I beat someone the caliber of Triple X I would finally accomplish something in my life and maybe I would be somebody. But you're a failure Blade, so you lost and got nothing. You're back to square on, back to doing nothing and being nothing. You failed so miserably against him that he was able to compete and almost win in a Hell in a Cell match the very same night that was supposed to be your ticket to the top. How does that make you feel, Blade? It must not feel good.
Lightning flashes and light up the trees behind him.
Diabolos: Do you here that Blade? Do you hear it? They're calling for you, Blade. I gave them Bob and they were so pleased with me. They called for Izzy and she was given. You're to blame for her injuries, Blade. You're to blame for a girl's dreams getting smashed along with her spine. She had so much potential to do great things and be everything you never will. Unlike you Blade, she could have went to the top, the sky was her limit. But you failed her too Blade and you didn't even realize it. So selfish, so selfish. You take your self hate and failures out on me and infuriate me and the Old Ones. I could have left her alone after she was beaten by those men in suits, I could have just left her lone. But your actions angered the Old Ones and they told me that if I can't make you pay, then someone else will. That someone was Izzy. Now just like Bob, Izzy is gone. Because of your failures. My gods are calling for you, not because you're great or because they think you're blood is worthy of dripping off of my flesh and onto their lips. They're calling for the death of Blade because they are embarrassed that such a worthless excuse for a living being is allowed to walk this earth. How can they allow someone so hideously terrible at every aspect of life to go on breathing? They want your blood drained, your body destroyed, your corpse in the ground, and your flesh to decay into what you truly are; dirt. Maybe then you will finally achieve your goal of being something better.
Thunder crashes and lightning flashes, behind Diabolos stand three skeleton figures. Diabolos looks behind him and laughs, he holds his hands to the sky and brings them to his face.
Diabolos: I'll be honest in saying, I blame myself a bit for Izzy. I mean, how could I resist? She was right there, beautifully laid out and beaten, ripe for the taking. How could I resist placing her head under my legs, wrapping my arms around her waist, lifting her lifeless body up, cradling her, and slamming her head into the canvas? There's no better feeling. I won't get that feeling with you, Blade. I won't feel that rush when I smash your face and cave it in. Sure the blood will feel nice and broken bones against my knuckles is a great feeling, but in the end it's meaningless. I'm destroying someone who has already destroyed himself and all those around him. I'm ending someone who never had a beginning. The only hope I have is that when you lose to me, maybe you'll finally realize that you shouldn't have come back to WZCW, you shouldn't have befriended Bob, you shouldn't have wasted what little energy you had on Triple X, and you shouldn't have attacked me. But it won't matter because as soon as you do, it will all be over. No one will remember you, no one will miss you.
It begins to rain and the thunder and lightning are constant now. One of the skeletons hands Diabolos something, he looks up and smiles. He and his skeletons move out of the way to reveal Grizzly Bob's cabin.
Diabolos: Do you know where I am, Blade? Do you recognize this place? You must. It's Bob's cabin. A place of solace and happiness for you. Again you're selfishness leads to the destruction of another beautiful object. I'm going to burn it to the ground. It's all your fault. Poor Bob should have never become friends with you. Because you are so stupid, you haven't gotten the message that all you touch dies, I have to show you. I have to set this finely crafted home ablaze.
Diabolos puts his hands in the prayer position. While he does his crew poor gasoline all over the cabin and the grounds around it.
Diabolos: Oh mighty Old Ones, please let Grandma make me cookies when I get home. I would ask for your help in beating Blade, but I don't want to waste your time. Thank you.
Diabolos lifts up a lighter .
Diabolos: Burn in hell Blade.
He goes to light the lighter but the rain keeps putting it out. He tries and tries to no avail.
Diabolos: Get over here and help me!
A skeleton runs over and puts his hands over the lighter to cover it from the rain. Diabolos finally gets it lit but the skeleton's hands are covered in gasoline and his arm catches on fire. They both scream, the man runs around trying to put it out.
Diabolos: This is your fault Blade!
Diabolos runs to help as the scene fades to black.
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