Prologue: From the darkness: part one.
Mar 23, 2021 16:37:59 GMT -5
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Oh-Oh and Jesse Jamester like this
Post by Deleted on Mar 23, 2021 16:37:59 GMT -5
“Take the first step in faith. You don’t have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step.” – Martin Luther King Jr
The barely audible groan that signalled the slow return to consciousness of their guest was immediately followed by a short wave transmission, “Justice, the asset is waking up.”
Through light static, a muffled voice, deep and likely digitally altered responds over the speaker. ”Copy. Bring the asset immediately.”
The danger held within her last recallable moments began their assault upon her foggy mind almost instantly. Her head moved only slightly at first, then, much like releasing a captured salmon back into a river, her head rocked side to side as she began her descent back into reality.
What happened?
Her last memory was that she had been walking home, alone. She had taken the same route back to her apartment she always took. The same route she’d taken every night since leaving her time as an ’on camera personality’ behind her.
Years spent drifting from one wrestling promotion that folded to another had weighed on her, made her cynical. Now she was putting her experience to good use as a production assistant, nothing more. Or, at least, she was.
Now she was a captive. She barely felt whatever they shot her with before collapsing to the ground like a tranquilized deer. None of that mattered now.
She was being moved somewhere, yet no one touched her. She could feel and hear the echoing of wheels turning on marble floors and then, a click. She wasn’t moving anymore.
Suddenly her eyes shot open, darting around in a vain attempt to gain some clue as to where she was. Instead, only light greeted her, penetrating her eyes like searing pins of fire.
Tears flowed as she allowed herself the delusion that this was another of Kintaru’s games. Or perhaps Rob Riot had slipped back into the madness and now came to break her mind permanently. She didn’t know what was going on, but somehow she knew one thing.
This had to be linked back to the insane world that was professional wrestling. That was the only place she’d ever truly seen these crazed tactics. This kind of madness. This insanity.
It had to be. Nothing else made sense.
She was just a reporter for Christ’s sake! She’d never even been allowed to be a particularly good one. Why her? Why was it always her? Could Cherry Merciless not be reached?
Riot Star Wrestling was dead, Global Championship Wrestling too. Pinnacle Wrestling Association was years before either RSW or GCW. Every promotion she’d ever worked for was dead. And that was just the tip of the iceberg. Her life was nothing like it used to be. So, why her?
PT Merciless, RB Cardone, Tiffany, The Departed, Sophie, Belle, Mikey. All of them, dead. Soon; soon she would join them.
Struggling against her restraints, leather straps bit at her wrists. she pushed her head back against the soft upholstery backing her chair, a shriek came out first, then a scream.
Deep and guttural, it was both terror; and acceptance. She knew now, with certainty, she would die here. Screaming until she was out of breath, no one told her to stop, or that it was pointless.
No fist or backhand came to her cheek to shut her up. It was almost as though her captors were waiting, waiting for her to come back into reality enough to grasp exactly what was happening. They wanted her awake, they wanted her lucid…but most of all, they wanted her terrified.
What little of the hall she now sat in that was visible appeared circular, light was a precious resource that had not been given liberally. The only light was the one directed in her face. Simple, yet effective.
Most everything they did was done with frightening precision. She never saw them coming.
Patiently waiting until she stopped struggling, the voice was even as it asked, ”Do you know who we are?” Again, the voice was heavily altered, and came from a group of shadowy figures that loomed above her from their unseen perch.
Terror gripped her throat, it stole her voice. Nodding rapidly, through her now ex-fiancé, she’d become aware of the group’s existence, but little else.
The sheer number of secrets he was forced to keep from her being one of the multitude of reasons their relationship was doomed to failure.
’They’ were incredibly secretive, their existence only known to their members and those about to die. There were strict rules in place. Very few ways existed where one could be ’released from service’, even fewer existed where the member continued to breathe.
Yet ’he’ had found, not only, a way out, but a way back to competition. He had returned to wrestling. It was like a drug. Except once it was in your system, there was no going back.
As Vengador Oscuro, she’d watched as he somehow fought the instincts ‘they’ had instilled in him and transitioned from dark avenger, back into the enigma of old one last time. Reclaiming his life, his soul and very nearly…his son. Before it all came crumbling down around him.
She was shivering, trembling with fear. Her life flashed before her eyes and all she kept coming back to was him. They’d been made for each other and she had ruined it all by treating it like just another relationship. “Miss Lucchi.” The heavily altered voice shocked her from her nostalgia. Pausing, it continued only when it was sure it now held her full attention. “Welcome to ’Justice’.” You are here because, you know too much. Though our mutual ‘friend’ has told you next to nothing, you have seen too much through your association with ’him’…”
The altered voice went silent.
The barely audible groan that signalled the slow return to consciousness of their guest was immediately followed by a short wave transmission, “Justice, the asset is waking up.”
Through light static, a muffled voice, deep and likely digitally altered responds over the speaker. ”Copy. Bring the asset immediately.”
The danger held within her last recallable moments began their assault upon her foggy mind almost instantly. Her head moved only slightly at first, then, much like releasing a captured salmon back into a river, her head rocked side to side as she began her descent back into reality.
What happened?
Her last memory was that she had been walking home, alone. She had taken the same route back to her apartment she always took. The same route she’d taken every night since leaving her time as an ’on camera personality’ behind her.
Years spent drifting from one wrestling promotion that folded to another had weighed on her, made her cynical. Now she was putting her experience to good use as a production assistant, nothing more. Or, at least, she was.
Now she was a captive. She barely felt whatever they shot her with before collapsing to the ground like a tranquilized deer. None of that mattered now.
She was being moved somewhere, yet no one touched her. She could feel and hear the echoing of wheels turning on marble floors and then, a click. She wasn’t moving anymore.
Suddenly her eyes shot open, darting around in a vain attempt to gain some clue as to where she was. Instead, only light greeted her, penetrating her eyes like searing pins of fire.
Tears flowed as she allowed herself the delusion that this was another of Kintaru’s games. Or perhaps Rob Riot had slipped back into the madness and now came to break her mind permanently. She didn’t know what was going on, but somehow she knew one thing.
This had to be linked back to the insane world that was professional wrestling. That was the only place she’d ever truly seen these crazed tactics. This kind of madness. This insanity.
It had to be. Nothing else made sense.
She was just a reporter for Christ’s sake! She’d never even been allowed to be a particularly good one. Why her? Why was it always her? Could Cherry Merciless not be reached?
Riot Star Wrestling was dead, Global Championship Wrestling too. Pinnacle Wrestling Association was years before either RSW or GCW. Every promotion she’d ever worked for was dead. And that was just the tip of the iceberg. Her life was nothing like it used to be. So, why her?
PT Merciless, RB Cardone, Tiffany, The Departed, Sophie, Belle, Mikey. All of them, dead. Soon; soon she would join them.
Struggling against her restraints, leather straps bit at her wrists. she pushed her head back against the soft upholstery backing her chair, a shriek came out first, then a scream.
Deep and guttural, it was both terror; and acceptance. She knew now, with certainty, she would die here. Screaming until she was out of breath, no one told her to stop, or that it was pointless.
No fist or backhand came to her cheek to shut her up. It was almost as though her captors were waiting, waiting for her to come back into reality enough to grasp exactly what was happening. They wanted her awake, they wanted her lucid…but most of all, they wanted her terrified.
What little of the hall she now sat in that was visible appeared circular, light was a precious resource that had not been given liberally. The only light was the one directed in her face. Simple, yet effective.
Most everything they did was done with frightening precision. She never saw them coming.
Patiently waiting until she stopped struggling, the voice was even as it asked, ”Do you know who we are?” Again, the voice was heavily altered, and came from a group of shadowy figures that loomed above her from their unseen perch.
Terror gripped her throat, it stole her voice. Nodding rapidly, through her now ex-fiancé, she’d become aware of the group’s existence, but little else.
The sheer number of secrets he was forced to keep from her being one of the multitude of reasons their relationship was doomed to failure.
’They’ were incredibly secretive, their existence only known to their members and those about to die. There were strict rules in place. Very few ways existed where one could be ’released from service’, even fewer existed where the member continued to breathe.
Yet ’he’ had found, not only, a way out, but a way back to competition. He had returned to wrestling. It was like a drug. Except once it was in your system, there was no going back.
As Vengador Oscuro, she’d watched as he somehow fought the instincts ‘they’ had instilled in him and transitioned from dark avenger, back into the enigma of old one last time. Reclaiming his life, his soul and very nearly…his son. Before it all came crumbling down around him.
She was shivering, trembling with fear. Her life flashed before her eyes and all she kept coming back to was him. They’d been made for each other and she had ruined it all by treating it like just another relationship. “Miss Lucchi.” The heavily altered voice shocked her from her nostalgia. Pausing, it continued only when it was sure it now held her full attention. “Welcome to ’Justice’.” You are here because, you know too much. Though our mutual ‘friend’ has told you next to nothing, you have seen too much through your association with ’him’…”
The altered voice went silent.