Post by Dylan on Jan 10, 2018 12:08:46 GMT -5
A black screen kicks off this scene. It’s indistinguishable what’s going on, who this is, etc. Darkness and silence. Both unbroken for a few moments, until the silence is first punctured.
We were right, you know.
Another moment's silence, and a match is lit. The light barely illuminating a small area of the darkness that has enclosed this small space. You can see a splash of red from the light. And two fingers holding the match. The lit match is lifted and you see various colors, mostly black, red and white. The light then rests on the bottom half of a bearded, painted face. Face paint that is synonymous with a single FWA superstar...
It’s Dylan Black.
He presumably begins to pace, given we hear footsteps and the light is moving.
James Raymond, we were right about you. Dackle and I. You, my dear delusional friend, are a poser. A wanna-be. A knock off of yours truly. All these things I have said about you, are very much true, no matter how much you wish to deny it. The truth, it showed me the way. It showed me right and wrong. And it shows me that you, and your partner who, mind you, is paying no mind to this match but rather throwing verbal barbs at Chaos Kid. His mind is so out of this match I don’t even need to commit verbal murder upon him. He’s got more on his plate from Chaos then I could offer.
Black sighs and cricks his neck, his head almost turning 180 degrees in the eeriest of ways. He brushes his long, black, curly hair out of his face and blows a few stray strands his fingers missed.
Now, our time is nearly drawing to a close, and soon, Faux Darkness will step up to the plate to challenge THE reigning, defending champions, the TRUE reapers of the night, the righteous Darkness.
Raymond, you proved you CAN deal with torture, pain and suffering. But, you only dealt with the physical renditions of each. To be a man of darkness, you must take on mental torture. Spiritual suffering. Physical shit just doesn’t cut the cake.
With his hand, he squashes the fire and we are thrown back into darkness.
You see how quickly the darkness has enveloped this space? That’s how quickly we’ll devour and destroy you. In meer seconds.
Black pulls on a chain, and the light illuminates the room.. or rather, the small storage box, that he’s recording from.
You’re coming into our yard, and you dare say you’ll eradicate us. Kid, you’re in no condition to fight after the stupid shit you did to yourself. You took my advice a little to literally, you have to draw some of your own blood from time to time, not completely annihilate your torso. Eh.. it’s no matter.
And the end of the day, you weren’t gonna win anyways..
Dylan unscrews the lightbulb and when it comes lose, drops it. We watch it fall, in slow motion, as it descends to the ground and shatters into a million pieces, killing the light.
The Darkness.. it will consume you all..
We were right, you know.
Another moment's silence, and a match is lit. The light barely illuminating a small area of the darkness that has enclosed this small space. You can see a splash of red from the light. And two fingers holding the match. The lit match is lifted and you see various colors, mostly black, red and white. The light then rests on the bottom half of a bearded, painted face. Face paint that is synonymous with a single FWA superstar...
It’s Dylan Black.
He presumably begins to pace, given we hear footsteps and the light is moving.
James Raymond, we were right about you. Dackle and I. You, my dear delusional friend, are a poser. A wanna-be. A knock off of yours truly. All these things I have said about you, are very much true, no matter how much you wish to deny it. The truth, it showed me the way. It showed me right and wrong. And it shows me that you, and your partner who, mind you, is paying no mind to this match but rather throwing verbal barbs at Chaos Kid. His mind is so out of this match I don’t even need to commit verbal murder upon him. He’s got more on his plate from Chaos then I could offer.
Black sighs and cricks his neck, his head almost turning 180 degrees in the eeriest of ways. He brushes his long, black, curly hair out of his face and blows a few stray strands his fingers missed.
Now, our time is nearly drawing to a close, and soon, Faux Darkness will step up to the plate to challenge THE reigning, defending champions, the TRUE reapers of the night, the righteous Darkness.
Raymond, you proved you CAN deal with torture, pain and suffering. But, you only dealt with the physical renditions of each. To be a man of darkness, you must take on mental torture. Spiritual suffering. Physical shit just doesn’t cut the cake.
With his hand, he squashes the fire and we are thrown back into darkness.
You see how quickly the darkness has enveloped this space? That’s how quickly we’ll devour and destroy you. In meer seconds.
Black pulls on a chain, and the light illuminates the room.. or rather, the small storage box, that he’s recording from.
You’re coming into our yard, and you dare say you’ll eradicate us. Kid, you’re in no condition to fight after the stupid shit you did to yourself. You took my advice a little to literally, you have to draw some of your own blood from time to time, not completely annihilate your torso. Eh.. it’s no matter.
And the end of the day, you weren’t gonna win anyways..
Dylan unscrews the lightbulb and when it comes lose, drops it. We watch it fall, in slow motion, as it descends to the ground and shatters into a million pieces, killing the light.
The Darkness.. it will consume you all..
