Post by Oblivion Death Squad on Jul 22, 2024 22:05:31 GMT -5
‘For too long, the Oblivion Death Squad lived in the shadows of lesser teams. For too long, we were denied by fate, what should have been ours by right! For are we not the strongest? The most powerful? The most dangerous?
Have we not been shaped by the hands of the Scourge into his instruments?’
The voice of Sinclair Godfrey spoke in the darkness, and the shadows of branches and reaching trees cut across the starry sky. The faint glow of the waning moon looked down, and then the darkness was illuminated by flames. Sparks swirled and smoke rose, and three figures were seen standing around the crackling bonfire.
Two of them held the WUK Tag Team Championships before them, and the flames glowed across their surface. And in the eyes of the skull masked men as they watched the fire, Godfrey stood between them, her face hidden by her hood.
She gestured, and reached into the barrel at her side. She unfurled a t-shirt which bore a round design with Lord Dominicus on one side, and on the other was Big Bone. Between them was the Domini-cruiser and around the circle it read ‘Bad to the Bone.’ She stared at it, and then lifted it.
‘Bad to the Bone. Big Bone. Lord Dominicus. What can I say? Big Bone is a dangerous man, Lord Dominicus beat Kasper for the WUK Heavyweight Title! But what they are not? Is what we are.
They are not killers. They are not champions. And as such?’
Sinclair flung the shirt into the flames, and they leapt higher as the fire devoured it.
She reached into the barrel again, and held up another shirt which bore the logo of the High Rollers’ club. She sniffed, smoothing the fabric with a shrug before she looked to Mormo. He stared at the shirt, snorting before he took it.
‘The High Roller’s Club. The trash of the XHF Network. The High Rollers insist they are the greatest thing going. But are they? A womanizer? A hollywood refugee? A simp? A well dressed thug? Some JROK reject? And worst of all?’
Sinclair frowned.
‘Preston Reese?’
Mormo handed the shirt to Moloch, who slowly ripped it in half as he watched the flames.
‘I am sorry, boys. The entire pack of you can’t even decide if you’re a group lately. And that means if you? Either one of you since for some reason there are four of you here go against Mormo and Moloch?’
Moloch flung the shirt into the fire, and Sinclair smiled. Her hand reached out again, digging around before she dragged out another shirt.
‘Imperial Catch Kings.’
A shrug, and she tsked.
‘The Great Dark has little to say of you. That means you must be very good. But frankly? You need to be better than good to go against the Shocktroopers of the Apocalypse. You see these men beside are monsters, they are the things of nightmare! And while you two might be the greatest technical tag team in the XHF! Despite being the masters of Catch as Catch can! You are not ready for the sheer brute force of the Oblivion Death Squad!
These men are End of Days semi-finalists, they are former XHF Tag Team Champions, they are a threat in any company they walk into! And so sorry to say?’
Flames leapt as the shirt was thrown into it, and sparks swirled.
‘Even kings die in the Void.’
Her hand reached inside, and she hissed as her eyes narrowed. This shirt bore the symbol of the Empire, and even the brutes growled from beneath their masks. Sinclair’s fingers curled into a fist, and she handed the shirt to Moloch. And he shook his head, tossing it to Mormo who stared down at it.
‘The Empire. Spike Kane is gone, his name is as ashes on the wind. And what is left is the dreams of what may have been! A tired old man, his sad little son, and of course–’
Sinclair’s eyes hardened.
‘--the traitor. You think we have forgotten you, Gavin? You think you can turn your back on us? You were one of us, yet you turned away from the Void! You are as bad as Fox, you have seen the truth! You have stared into the Abyss, you looked into the Heart of Darkness, and yet you turned your back on us! To what? Eat scraps from Spike’s table?’
Her hand lifted.
‘To lay down with trash like the Slams?’
A shake of her head.
‘You have been allowed to run this long because it amused the Scourge to watch you fail. But now Drake if fate delivers you into our hands? Well, you of all people know what we are capable of! You know exactly what we will do to you and little David.
Mormo and Moloch will teach you what it means to betray your family. The wolf who leaves the pack? Is the wolf who dies.’
The shirt was thrown into the fire by Mormo, and the three watches it burn before she dug into the barrel again.
‘Wellington Dunne. The Glasgow Bull.’
Her head tilted.
‘Cheez.’
A shake of her head, and she smoothed the shirt with a shrug.
‘I don’t know what a tilted cartridge is. You see it could be because my blood is very blue, or maybe it is because I don’t recall playing games when I was a child. I asked Mormo and Moloch, and frankly?
They grew up in the shadow of the hammer and sickle on the streets of Albania, and so they don’t know either.’
She looked up.
‘Donzig said when a cartridge is tilted it doesn’t make a connection, and will not work properly. And sometimes you have to blow in them? He claims if you tilt a cartridge while playing a game it will create a glitch. An impossibility.’
Her hand tightened on the shirt, and her eyes narrowed.
‘There are no glitches that will save you if you face the Oblivion Death Squad. There are no impossibilities that would allow the pair of you to defeat us! And I know that you two are used to being underestimated, I know you are in fact one of the most underrated teams in the XHF! And you know as I have said before Cheez that you are known to us!
That we respect your heart.’
Sinclair flung the shirt into the fire, and flames swirled around it.
‘And we will break that heart if you cross us, Cheez. You see you and Dunne are fearsome, but you are not us.’
Sinclair reached into the barrel, and she dug deep before she pulled out the last shirt. She lifted it in her hand, and stared at it before letting it tumble open. And the signs of the Cryptid Cabal were exposed, and the Death Squad looked up with low growls that echoed from under their masks. Mormo’s fingers tightened on his belt, and Moloch let his own drop as he took a step forward.
Sinclair turned the shirt to stare at it, and then licked her lips.
‘The Cryptid Cabal. Black Phillip. Arvind Shakar. Fox’s monsters. The Night Breed.’
A tilt of her head, eyes narrowed.
‘Out of all the teams in this tournament? You’re the ones that Donzig wants us to destroy. But even worse? Well, very few teams in this event have actually beaten us! That makes you dangerous.’
Mormo growled.
‘Filipi i Zi! Arvind! Mendoni se jeni gati për Fëmijët e Rënies? Mendoni se jeni monstra?
Fagh! Ju nuk e keni idenë se çfarë monstra jemi ne! Dhe në Revolucioni do t'ju thyejmë!’
Moloch nodded, and he slammed a fist against his chest as his voice hissed from beneath his mask. His eyes blazing as they watched the flames.
‘Kabal i fshehtë! Ne do të hyjmë në Revolucion me këto tituj!’
He lifted his belt once more, and he held it before the flames as he growled. His eyes wild as he looked at the title before he lowered it as his other hand lifted to gesture at him and his hulking brother.
‘Dhe ne do të dalim nga Revolucioni me ta! Ne do të largohemi prej andej si skuadra e parë që fiton Kupën e Amerikës së Veriut WUK!
Ne do të dalim nga Uashingtoni DC të mbuluar në gjakun tuaj! Ne do t'ju kthejmë te zotëria juaj Fox me bishtin midis këmbëve tuaja.’
Mormo nodded, and Sinclair flashed a grin before she stepped forward to speak.
‘Black Phillip! Arvind! You think you are ready for the Children of the Fall? You think you are monsters?
You have no idea what monsters we are! And at Revolution we will break you!
Cryptid Cabal! We will walk into Revolution with these titles!
And we will walk out of Revolution with them! We will walk out of there as the first team to win the WUK North American Cup!
We will walk out of Washington DC covered in your blood! We will send you back to your master Fox with your tails between your legs.’
Sinclair flung the shirt into the flames, and she stared at her hand before it balled into a fist. And her eyes blazed with fury as smoke and sparks swirled into the hot summer air.
‘At Revolution, we will remind the XHF! We will remind the WUK! And we will remind all of these tag teams from Team Fairtex, to the Dark Stars, to the pretenders who hold the XHF Tag Team Champions that should rightfully be ours! That we are the Oblivion Death Squad! That we are the Children of the Fall! That we are the Hands of the Void!’
Sinclair’s eyes narrowed, and she raked a hand through her hair.
‘That we are Donzig-gun!’
She gestured and Mormo kicked the logs of the fire. The thing collapsed, and sparks and smoke swirled wildly as they collapsed into glowing embers and burning logs that quickly went out to a sullen glow. The scene went dark, and then a voice growled.
‘Shihemi se shpejti.’
Have we not been shaped by the hands of the Scourge into his instruments?’
The voice of Sinclair Godfrey spoke in the darkness, and the shadows of branches and reaching trees cut across the starry sky. The faint glow of the waning moon looked down, and then the darkness was illuminated by flames. Sparks swirled and smoke rose, and three figures were seen standing around the crackling bonfire.
Two of them held the WUK Tag Team Championships before them, and the flames glowed across their surface. And in the eyes of the skull masked men as they watched the fire, Godfrey stood between them, her face hidden by her hood.
She gestured, and reached into the barrel at her side. She unfurled a t-shirt which bore a round design with Lord Dominicus on one side, and on the other was Big Bone. Between them was the Domini-cruiser and around the circle it read ‘Bad to the Bone.’ She stared at it, and then lifted it.
‘Bad to the Bone. Big Bone. Lord Dominicus. What can I say? Big Bone is a dangerous man, Lord Dominicus beat Kasper for the WUK Heavyweight Title! But what they are not? Is what we are.
They are not killers. They are not champions. And as such?’
Sinclair flung the shirt into the flames, and they leapt higher as the fire devoured it.
She reached into the barrel again, and held up another shirt which bore the logo of the High Rollers’ club. She sniffed, smoothing the fabric with a shrug before she looked to Mormo. He stared at the shirt, snorting before he took it.
‘The High Roller’s Club. The trash of the XHF Network. The High Rollers insist they are the greatest thing going. But are they? A womanizer? A hollywood refugee? A simp? A well dressed thug? Some JROK reject? And worst of all?’
Sinclair frowned.
‘Preston Reese?’
Mormo handed the shirt to Moloch, who slowly ripped it in half as he watched the flames.
‘I am sorry, boys. The entire pack of you can’t even decide if you’re a group lately. And that means if you? Either one of you since for some reason there are four of you here go against Mormo and Moloch?’
Moloch flung the shirt into the fire, and Sinclair smiled. Her hand reached out again, digging around before she dragged out another shirt.
‘Imperial Catch Kings.’
A shrug, and she tsked.
‘The Great Dark has little to say of you. That means you must be very good. But frankly? You need to be better than good to go against the Shocktroopers of the Apocalypse. You see these men beside are monsters, they are the things of nightmare! And while you two might be the greatest technical tag team in the XHF! Despite being the masters of Catch as Catch can! You are not ready for the sheer brute force of the Oblivion Death Squad!
These men are End of Days semi-finalists, they are former XHF Tag Team Champions, they are a threat in any company they walk into! And so sorry to say?’
Flames leapt as the shirt was thrown into it, and sparks swirled.
‘Even kings die in the Void.’
Her hand reached inside, and she hissed as her eyes narrowed. This shirt bore the symbol of the Empire, and even the brutes growled from beneath their masks. Sinclair’s fingers curled into a fist, and she handed the shirt to Moloch. And he shook his head, tossing it to Mormo who stared down at it.
‘The Empire. Spike Kane is gone, his name is as ashes on the wind. And what is left is the dreams of what may have been! A tired old man, his sad little son, and of course–’
Sinclair’s eyes hardened.
‘--the traitor. You think we have forgotten you, Gavin? You think you can turn your back on us? You were one of us, yet you turned away from the Void! You are as bad as Fox, you have seen the truth! You have stared into the Abyss, you looked into the Heart of Darkness, and yet you turned your back on us! To what? Eat scraps from Spike’s table?’
Her hand lifted.
‘To lay down with trash like the Slams?’
A shake of her head.
‘You have been allowed to run this long because it amused the Scourge to watch you fail. But now Drake if fate delivers you into our hands? Well, you of all people know what we are capable of! You know exactly what we will do to you and little David.
Mormo and Moloch will teach you what it means to betray your family. The wolf who leaves the pack? Is the wolf who dies.’
The shirt was thrown into the fire by Mormo, and the three watches it burn before she dug into the barrel again.
‘Wellington Dunne. The Glasgow Bull.’
Her head tilted.
‘Cheez.’
A shake of her head, and she smoothed the shirt with a shrug.
‘I don’t know what a tilted cartridge is. You see it could be because my blood is very blue, or maybe it is because I don’t recall playing games when I was a child. I asked Mormo and Moloch, and frankly?
They grew up in the shadow of the hammer and sickle on the streets of Albania, and so they don’t know either.’
She looked up.
‘Donzig said when a cartridge is tilted it doesn’t make a connection, and will not work properly. And sometimes you have to blow in them? He claims if you tilt a cartridge while playing a game it will create a glitch. An impossibility.’
Her hand tightened on the shirt, and her eyes narrowed.
‘There are no glitches that will save you if you face the Oblivion Death Squad. There are no impossibilities that would allow the pair of you to defeat us! And I know that you two are used to being underestimated, I know you are in fact one of the most underrated teams in the XHF! And you know as I have said before Cheez that you are known to us!
That we respect your heart.’
Sinclair flung the shirt into the fire, and flames swirled around it.
‘And we will break that heart if you cross us, Cheez. You see you and Dunne are fearsome, but you are not us.’
Sinclair reached into the barrel, and she dug deep before she pulled out the last shirt. She lifted it in her hand, and stared at it before letting it tumble open. And the signs of the Cryptid Cabal were exposed, and the Death Squad looked up with low growls that echoed from under their masks. Mormo’s fingers tightened on his belt, and Moloch let his own drop as he took a step forward.
Sinclair turned the shirt to stare at it, and then licked her lips.
‘The Cryptid Cabal. Black Phillip. Arvind Shakar. Fox’s monsters. The Night Breed.’
A tilt of her head, eyes narrowed.
‘Out of all the teams in this tournament? You’re the ones that Donzig wants us to destroy. But even worse? Well, very few teams in this event have actually beaten us! That makes you dangerous.’
Mormo growled.
‘Filipi i Zi! Arvind! Mendoni se jeni gati për Fëmijët e Rënies? Mendoni se jeni monstra?
Fagh! Ju nuk e keni idenë se çfarë monstra jemi ne! Dhe në Revolucioni do t'ju thyejmë!’
Moloch nodded, and he slammed a fist against his chest as his voice hissed from beneath his mask. His eyes blazing as they watched the flames.
‘Kabal i fshehtë! Ne do të hyjmë në Revolucion me këto tituj!’
He lifted his belt once more, and he held it before the flames as he growled. His eyes wild as he looked at the title before he lowered it as his other hand lifted to gesture at him and his hulking brother.
‘Dhe ne do të dalim nga Revolucioni me ta! Ne do të largohemi prej andej si skuadra e parë që fiton Kupën e Amerikës së Veriut WUK!
Ne do të dalim nga Uashingtoni DC të mbuluar në gjakun tuaj! Ne do t'ju kthejmë te zotëria juaj Fox me bishtin midis këmbëve tuaja.’
Mormo nodded, and Sinclair flashed a grin before she stepped forward to speak.
‘Black Phillip! Arvind! You think you are ready for the Children of the Fall? You think you are monsters?
You have no idea what monsters we are! And at Revolution we will break you!
Cryptid Cabal! We will walk into Revolution with these titles!
And we will walk out of Revolution with them! We will walk out of there as the first team to win the WUK North American Cup!
We will walk out of Washington DC covered in your blood! We will send you back to your master Fox with your tails between your legs.’
Sinclair flung the shirt into the flames, and she stared at her hand before it balled into a fist. And her eyes blazed with fury as smoke and sparks swirled into the hot summer air.
‘At Revolution, we will remind the XHF! We will remind the WUK! And we will remind all of these tag teams from Team Fairtex, to the Dark Stars, to the pretenders who hold the XHF Tag Team Champions that should rightfully be ours! That we are the Oblivion Death Squad! That we are the Children of the Fall! That we are the Hands of the Void!’
Sinclair’s eyes narrowed, and she raked a hand through her hair.
‘That we are Donzig-gun!’
She gestured and Mormo kicked the logs of the fire. The thing collapsed, and sparks and smoke swirled wildly as they collapsed into glowing embers and burning logs that quickly went out to a sullen glow. The scene went dark, and then a voice growled.
‘Shihemi se shpejti.’
