Post by Donzig on Oct 15, 2022 23:41:07 GMT -5
‘Let us sit upon the ground, And tell sad stories of the death of kings.’
The voice rang from the darkness, echoing off the cold stone walls of the ancient castle. The voice was as cold as the grave, devoid of emotion as the camera soon focused on a silent figure draped in along black coat. A hood was drawn up, and the light gleamed off metal under the cowl as the figure leaned on the worn and crumbling stone.
‘And make no mistake, each of us in our own way is a king. Armand Von Krauss, Psychotic Goth, and Jakie Wentzel.’
A hand lifted, and fingers moved absently before the hand fell as the voice hissed from behind the mask.
‘Armand, you are a made man. You are one of the most feared men in the XHF, your reach, your power, your wealth. Inside that ring? I know just how good you are, just how dangerous! Your mind is sharp, you are no mere monster, no mere thug. You are a warrior, a conqueror! And that is why I, I once fought at your side.’
The fingers dug into the stone, and the hooded head bowed.
‘But your ambition, that thing that makes you great? It makes you dangerous, and as we both know I understand ambition above all things. Because you might be pleased to rule from the shadows, you might be sated with wealth and power. But we both know that your ambition?’
The head lifted, and Donzig growled.
‘Your ambition pales compared to mine! I will never be sated, I will never have enough, the world will die in flames before I ever have my fill. The hunger of the Scourge is eternal. And that is why I will ascend, and you? Will fall.’
A shrug, and Donzig started to pace.
‘And then we have Goth, the self proclaimed King of his Kingdom of evil. The dragon, the serpent! A man who proclaims he is the very soul of hardcore, and that none will stand against him!’
Donzig growled, and his hand balled into a fist.
‘If you are a king of Hardcore, Goth? Then you should know that once in another time, another place I was known as the Hardcore Incarnate, I was the very emodiment of Hardcore. And I walk through XHF, even you should know what I am capable of when there are no rules. You see Goth? It is a long, long way down from one of those ladders.’
Donzig picked up a piece of broken rock, and he bounced it in his palm before he dropped it from the wall. It clattered below, thumping against the ground as he shrugged.
‘I am sick of your bold words, Goth. I am sick of your claims. You act like I should fear you, but fear? Fear is for lesser men, fear is not for kings! For kings are not like other men! And so Goth when I batter you and your old friend Armand from the heights of the ladder to the floor below? You will know that W:UK only has one king! And that is the Conqueror, that is the Founder’s favorite son!’
Donzig hissed from under his mask, and he reached up to shove back his hood. The cold moonlight gleamed on the reddish metal, and Donzig dragged his wrist across the mouth of it before he gestured absently.
‘Jakie Wentzel. This is personal for you, I know you want to destroy Armand. You see they say that a king and his land are one and the same! That as the land suffers? So does it’s lord and master, and your land was destroyed! Your land was laid to ruin, to waste by the manipulations of Armand! And I can see it’s taint in you!’
Donzig stared into the night, then glanced back.
‘But the problem is? Armand has put himself in my business, he has dared to attack my beloved Children, he tried to strike fear in the ranks of Donzig-gun! He dared to lay his hands, and the hands of his fucking clowns on the servants of the Scourge! And so your little fucking mennonite prayer circle and your little village? They don’t mean fuck all to me, next to that!’
Donzig’s hand slammed down on the crumbling stone, and his fingers tightened on it as he snarled.
‘So if you think you are getting in my way, Jakie? No, no, no! I am going to wrap a fucking chair around your neck! I am going to crack your fucking head like a melon! Armand is mine! Mine! And that goes double for you, Goth!’
Donzig hissed, and he flung another rock from the wall as he turned to jab a finger at the camera as he stalked forward. His eyes wild behind the mask, and he spat and fumed.
‘At Battle of Britain, at this Number One Contender Match? I am going to teach you three false kings, you fucking pretenders, a valuble lesson! That the throne of W:UK belongs to the Conqueror! And so I alone will take my rightful place, I will ascend that ladder, and I will take what is mine! What always should have been mine! And then? I will reign over W:UK, and I will teach my enemies! All of my enemies, all of these people who dare to gather themselves against me that I am SUPREME!’
Donzig’s voice rose to a scream, a shriek that sent a few birds fluttering from the woods below. He took a deep breath, a finger pressed against his mask as he stood for a long moment. Then he shrugged, speaking once more.
‘Because what is a king to a GOD!’
The Scourge turned back to the darkness, his eyes scanning the night as he leaned over the battlements. And he took another deep breath before he spoke.
‘See you soon.’
The voice rang from the darkness, echoing off the cold stone walls of the ancient castle. The voice was as cold as the grave, devoid of emotion as the camera soon focused on a silent figure draped in along black coat. A hood was drawn up, and the light gleamed off metal under the cowl as the figure leaned on the worn and crumbling stone.
‘And make no mistake, each of us in our own way is a king. Armand Von Krauss, Psychotic Goth, and Jakie Wentzel.’
A hand lifted, and fingers moved absently before the hand fell as the voice hissed from behind the mask.
‘Armand, you are a made man. You are one of the most feared men in the XHF, your reach, your power, your wealth. Inside that ring? I know just how good you are, just how dangerous! Your mind is sharp, you are no mere monster, no mere thug. You are a warrior, a conqueror! And that is why I, I once fought at your side.’
The fingers dug into the stone, and the hooded head bowed.
‘But your ambition, that thing that makes you great? It makes you dangerous, and as we both know I understand ambition above all things. Because you might be pleased to rule from the shadows, you might be sated with wealth and power. But we both know that your ambition?’
The head lifted, and Donzig growled.
‘Your ambition pales compared to mine! I will never be sated, I will never have enough, the world will die in flames before I ever have my fill. The hunger of the Scourge is eternal. And that is why I will ascend, and you? Will fall.’
A shrug, and Donzig started to pace.
‘And then we have Goth, the self proclaimed King of his Kingdom of evil. The dragon, the serpent! A man who proclaims he is the very soul of hardcore, and that none will stand against him!’
Donzig growled, and his hand balled into a fist.
‘If you are a king of Hardcore, Goth? Then you should know that once in another time, another place I was known as the Hardcore Incarnate, I was the very emodiment of Hardcore. And I walk through XHF, even you should know what I am capable of when there are no rules. You see Goth? It is a long, long way down from one of those ladders.’
Donzig picked up a piece of broken rock, and he bounced it in his palm before he dropped it from the wall. It clattered below, thumping against the ground as he shrugged.
‘I am sick of your bold words, Goth. I am sick of your claims. You act like I should fear you, but fear? Fear is for lesser men, fear is not for kings! For kings are not like other men! And so Goth when I batter you and your old friend Armand from the heights of the ladder to the floor below? You will know that W:UK only has one king! And that is the Conqueror, that is the Founder’s favorite son!’
Donzig hissed from under his mask, and he reached up to shove back his hood. The cold moonlight gleamed on the reddish metal, and Donzig dragged his wrist across the mouth of it before he gestured absently.
‘Jakie Wentzel. This is personal for you, I know you want to destroy Armand. You see they say that a king and his land are one and the same! That as the land suffers? So does it’s lord and master, and your land was destroyed! Your land was laid to ruin, to waste by the manipulations of Armand! And I can see it’s taint in you!’
Donzig stared into the night, then glanced back.
‘But the problem is? Armand has put himself in my business, he has dared to attack my beloved Children, he tried to strike fear in the ranks of Donzig-gun! He dared to lay his hands, and the hands of his fucking clowns on the servants of the Scourge! And so your little fucking mennonite prayer circle and your little village? They don’t mean fuck all to me, next to that!’
Donzig’s hand slammed down on the crumbling stone, and his fingers tightened on it as he snarled.
‘So if you think you are getting in my way, Jakie? No, no, no! I am going to wrap a fucking chair around your neck! I am going to crack your fucking head like a melon! Armand is mine! Mine! And that goes double for you, Goth!’
Donzig hissed, and he flung another rock from the wall as he turned to jab a finger at the camera as he stalked forward. His eyes wild behind the mask, and he spat and fumed.
‘At Battle of Britain, at this Number One Contender Match? I am going to teach you three false kings, you fucking pretenders, a valuble lesson! That the throne of W:UK belongs to the Conqueror! And so I alone will take my rightful place, I will ascend that ladder, and I will take what is mine! What always should have been mine! And then? I will reign over W:UK, and I will teach my enemies! All of my enemies, all of these people who dare to gather themselves against me that I am SUPREME!’
Donzig’s voice rose to a scream, a shriek that sent a few birds fluttering from the woods below. He took a deep breath, a finger pressed against his mask as he stood for a long moment. Then he shrugged, speaking once more.
‘Because what is a king to a GOD!’
The Scourge turned back to the darkness, his eyes scanning the night as he leaned over the battlements. And he took another deep breath before he spoke.
‘See you soon.’
