Treachery in the Bathroom (EOD2 1)
Oct 10, 2018 0:33:57 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, The King, and 1 more like this
Post by Deleted on Oct 10, 2018 0:33:57 GMT -5
-The following was posted to an AXW employee's instagram. The video has since been pulled and the account deleted.-
-The video opens with some cell phone footage of the aftermath of Dreadvan's match with Chris Card. Dreadvan peeled off the cover and fell right back over as soon as he fell to a knee writing in pain. Some green blood would spew out from his mouth and congeal near instantly. Little plumes of haze, similar in color would come off of it. He would toss his arms wildly about, maybe fighting ghosts or perhaps extremely disoriented.
The men in black would roll into the ring and take control of the situation by not letting any nearby ring attendants or photographers too close. Dreadvan would toss one of the men off of him, who most of them had try to restrain the demon before once again falling to the mat, this time not moving. Thanks to clever transition work of the production crew the time it takes Dreadvan to be strapped up and removed from the ring was well hidden. Even the pool of blood from before would now be mysteriously gone.
The camera man would be following well behind this group and making their way through the backstage area. Despite having the monster of a man on simple dollies, they would be making their way swiftly past a bunch of curious faces. A couple of turns around the hallways later the procession would stop at a roped off area, manned by a few more of the agents. They would let the group in and our cameraman could clearly be heard cursing his luck under his breath.
The footage would cut but pick up a few minutes later however, nothing visible was shown but the audio is being picked up. The listener could hear the faint squeak of wheels and a few men talking, but nothing that can be made out. The squeaking would stop for a moment, silence would be broken up by a "CLEAR" before resuming. After stopping one final time, the cameraman waits a moment but then seemingly pushes the phone outside of a cloth revealing a locker room area.
An assortment of agents are standing around, many visibly sweating. Several things in this room are in a state of disarray, including a locker that has been busted open and splintered about. Towels and other such things would cover a decent portion of the floor. The dollies Dreadvan was brought in on would be bent, and the straight jacket in pieces on top of the new wreckage. Most out of place in all of this though would have to be the crate that was labeled "Live Animal: Handle with Utmost Care."
The camera man would be moving the device all around the room searching for the demon himself having failed to find him. Though no matter where he pointed in the room the carnage and men in black suits would be all that filled the frame. The shot disappears into the veil again before making it's resurgence on the other side of what can now be called a cart. A half opened door labeled with a simple male symbol would mark what it was. On the floor a small piece of rope would be the only thing leading to it. Perspective viewers would later note that the destruction of the rest would seem to make a path right to the bathroom.
A moment later a yelp would bleat out. Certainly not human in origin and very disturbing. The couple of men even close to the entrance would put their hands to their mouth and one would even vomit through his fingers before moving away. He would however not move towards the bathroom but as far away from it as possible. The bleating would rise up again, this time much weaker and loud, stomach turning cracks among the sound of gasps for breath.
The door would crack open a bit more and suddenly a bloody mass would be ejected from the origin of this audio nightmare. It would land right in front of the man filming all of this. The camera man would slowly pan as if signaling to the viewer even they did not have the heart to reveal what it was. With a strange conviction though it continues, following the drips and blood line that had resulted from it's flight. However, when it finally did come into frame even the makeshift director would have to do everything in their power to contain their shock.
A small lamb was was the victim. It was missing a few of its legs and several holes in it's side and belly were gouged out, still leaking all over onto the floor, coat of once bright white fur would be nearly covered in a deep hue of crimson. The thing would even have one of it's eyeballs barely hanging on by the cord. What many may consider the worst part, the thing was still barely alive. It would be trying to breath even still, but can not quite muster it. It's body would even offer one last harsh convulsion before stopping all efforts to remain alive completely.
At this moment the cellphone would suddenly be flung across the room with a loud scream in sheer, unmistakable fear. The device would spin wildly across the floor. The scream wouldn't stop even as the guards can be heard surrounding the former focal point. "Fuck, someone got in, another mess to fucking clean up." can be heard amidst the bellowing hollers. A few seconds later and the mania would be cut off with the sound of a gunshot and a loud thump.
More footsteps can be heard approaching the camera, but it was at this point, as soon as the guard was reaching down the screen would be covered by a red, fat hand. It would spun around a bit and then flipped to the demon himself, Dreadvan. The look in his eyes is not that of a man anymore however, but something far more sinister. His face would match his hand, covered in a mask of another's life. Even his shirt would be in taters, just some cloth handing over the ends of his shoulders. He would cock his head and look directly in the lens pulling it closer for a moment.
Satisfied with with whatever he was looking for he takes a bit of a deep breath. The evil intent dissipating just lightly in his gaze as he does so.-
"Whoever's watching this.....I'm not the same as I once was. Whatever these ASSHOLE---"
-He grabs at his chest and it smears more blood on his pectorals. The grip on the phone noticeably tighening as more of his finger would temporarily overlap the camera. When he relaxes his grip it leaves a splotch of red in it's wake. -
"Whatever these assholes did to me is driving me insane. I don't know where I am at....what I am doing...nothing remains. I've blacked out several times in anger but this is a new level. Sometimes pictures of what I did come through. They show me a side even I didn't think was possible. Something more dangerous and vicious than even MY nightmares. I don't know what's worse...that I don't have control....or that I kind of....kind of..... LIIIIKKKKKKEEEEE IIIIITTTT"
-Dreadvan would again shift his head to the side and get closer to the camera. A twisted smile would take over his face, and not even all at once. He pulls it away and shakes his head.-
"I do remember most of my match with Chris Card, and to be fair to the man...he was just as good as he said he was. But I told him....I TOLD HIM... I FUCKING TOLD HIM!
-Dreadvan grabs the side of his hair and tugs at this head. He begins huffing for a second trying to regain his composure.-
"I told him hell or high water I was going to be here! I told him that hard work wasn't going to be enough this time. I may not have destroyed his career, or even injured him, but I know for a fact I left a scar. One I don't think that's ever going to heal.
These idiots that kidnapped me think I don't listen to them either. I now know that I will be at the next round of the End of Days tournament. I didn't even have to listen to why, and I don't give a FUCK about that either. All I cared about was who they said was next. And that's good....ol....Dukey boy..."
-Dreadvan laughs to himself.-
"DUUUUUUUUKE! DUUUUUKE! I'VE FINALLY GOT MY CHANCE AT YOU NOW DON'T I PRETTY BOY? MAYBE IF YOU RUSSIANS LAID OFF THE VODKA ONCE IN A WHILE YOU WOULDN'T HURT YOURSELVES!
I like that too, instead of getting in the ring you probably had your doctor--"
-Dreadvan speaks now in an odd falsetto with the twang of how you would talk to infants.-
"wite you a widdle sicky note. Dukey babby is fweeing bad, pwease no matchy."
-Dreadvan would then slam his hand against the sink behind him. Pieces of it would break off and the rest of it would fall to the floor. A geyser of water would squirt out at first and then trickle after losing pressure.-
"That was bullshit but I'm SO glad you've decided to show up to work. Now instead of the bingo hall you're going to be embarrassed in front of one of the largest crowds of your career. You won't even have Mr. Mullet and his match stick there in case things go wrong. No no buddy, the monster is going to be in the ring with the demon, alone.
The best part of all of this is, instead of the same Dreadvan you have probably been studying since you got a boo boo it's going to be the new me. The one that can't even contain himself even for a fucking second. I hope the flames that keep your spirit burning have enough gas to even be near me.
So please, show up this time. Prove to the world that you really are a monster, and don't just piss your bed when you hear a knock under your bed like the children you are used to scaring. But just know, like Card, you won't be leaving without a mark. And hear my words, I'm going to be after more than damaging your ego. I'm going to force you to be CAUTIOUS OF DEMONS."
-At this moment the lead agent would poke his head in the bathroom and just stare down at the blob taking up space on the floor. He would sigh and then retreat as the door opens up more revealing a squad of riot gear clad individuals. Several loud bursts would be made, and lodge multiple darts into Dread's body. This would of course send him into a loud rage and the phone that was in the hand of the demon would be tossed directly into the visor of his assailants. It would bust it open, but the feed would instantly cut a moment later.-
-The video opens with some cell phone footage of the aftermath of Dreadvan's match with Chris Card. Dreadvan peeled off the cover and fell right back over as soon as he fell to a knee writing in pain. Some green blood would spew out from his mouth and congeal near instantly. Little plumes of haze, similar in color would come off of it. He would toss his arms wildly about, maybe fighting ghosts or perhaps extremely disoriented.
The men in black would roll into the ring and take control of the situation by not letting any nearby ring attendants or photographers too close. Dreadvan would toss one of the men off of him, who most of them had try to restrain the demon before once again falling to the mat, this time not moving. Thanks to clever transition work of the production crew the time it takes Dreadvan to be strapped up and removed from the ring was well hidden. Even the pool of blood from before would now be mysteriously gone.
The camera man would be following well behind this group and making their way through the backstage area. Despite having the monster of a man on simple dollies, they would be making their way swiftly past a bunch of curious faces. A couple of turns around the hallways later the procession would stop at a roped off area, manned by a few more of the agents. They would let the group in and our cameraman could clearly be heard cursing his luck under his breath.
The footage would cut but pick up a few minutes later however, nothing visible was shown but the audio is being picked up. The listener could hear the faint squeak of wheels and a few men talking, but nothing that can be made out. The squeaking would stop for a moment, silence would be broken up by a "CLEAR" before resuming. After stopping one final time, the cameraman waits a moment but then seemingly pushes the phone outside of a cloth revealing a locker room area.
An assortment of agents are standing around, many visibly sweating. Several things in this room are in a state of disarray, including a locker that has been busted open and splintered about. Towels and other such things would cover a decent portion of the floor. The dollies Dreadvan was brought in on would be bent, and the straight jacket in pieces on top of the new wreckage. Most out of place in all of this though would have to be the crate that was labeled "Live Animal: Handle with Utmost Care."
The camera man would be moving the device all around the room searching for the demon himself having failed to find him. Though no matter where he pointed in the room the carnage and men in black suits would be all that filled the frame. The shot disappears into the veil again before making it's resurgence on the other side of what can now be called a cart. A half opened door labeled with a simple male symbol would mark what it was. On the floor a small piece of rope would be the only thing leading to it. Perspective viewers would later note that the destruction of the rest would seem to make a path right to the bathroom.
A moment later a yelp would bleat out. Certainly not human in origin and very disturbing. The couple of men even close to the entrance would put their hands to their mouth and one would even vomit through his fingers before moving away. He would however not move towards the bathroom but as far away from it as possible. The bleating would rise up again, this time much weaker and loud, stomach turning cracks among the sound of gasps for breath.
The door would crack open a bit more and suddenly a bloody mass would be ejected from the origin of this audio nightmare. It would land right in front of the man filming all of this. The camera man would slowly pan as if signaling to the viewer even they did not have the heart to reveal what it was. With a strange conviction though it continues, following the drips and blood line that had resulted from it's flight. However, when it finally did come into frame even the makeshift director would have to do everything in their power to contain their shock.
A small lamb was was the victim. It was missing a few of its legs and several holes in it's side and belly were gouged out, still leaking all over onto the floor, coat of once bright white fur would be nearly covered in a deep hue of crimson. The thing would even have one of it's eyeballs barely hanging on by the cord. What many may consider the worst part, the thing was still barely alive. It would be trying to breath even still, but can not quite muster it. It's body would even offer one last harsh convulsion before stopping all efforts to remain alive completely.
At this moment the cellphone would suddenly be flung across the room with a loud scream in sheer, unmistakable fear. The device would spin wildly across the floor. The scream wouldn't stop even as the guards can be heard surrounding the former focal point. "Fuck, someone got in, another mess to fucking clean up." can be heard amidst the bellowing hollers. A few seconds later and the mania would be cut off with the sound of a gunshot and a loud thump.
More footsteps can be heard approaching the camera, but it was at this point, as soon as the guard was reaching down the screen would be covered by a red, fat hand. It would spun around a bit and then flipped to the demon himself, Dreadvan. The look in his eyes is not that of a man anymore however, but something far more sinister. His face would match his hand, covered in a mask of another's life. Even his shirt would be in taters, just some cloth handing over the ends of his shoulders. He would cock his head and look directly in the lens pulling it closer for a moment.
Satisfied with with whatever he was looking for he takes a bit of a deep breath. The evil intent dissipating just lightly in his gaze as he does so.-
"Whoever's watching this.....I'm not the same as I once was. Whatever these ASSHOLE---"
-He grabs at his chest and it smears more blood on his pectorals. The grip on the phone noticeably tighening as more of his finger would temporarily overlap the camera. When he relaxes his grip it leaves a splotch of red in it's wake. -
"Whatever these assholes did to me is driving me insane. I don't know where I am at....what I am doing...nothing remains. I've blacked out several times in anger but this is a new level. Sometimes pictures of what I did come through. They show me a side even I didn't think was possible. Something more dangerous and vicious than even MY nightmares. I don't know what's worse...that I don't have control....or that I kind of....kind of..... LIIIIKKKKKKEEEEE IIIIITTTT"
-Dreadvan would again shift his head to the side and get closer to the camera. A twisted smile would take over his face, and not even all at once. He pulls it away and shakes his head.-
"I do remember most of my match with Chris Card, and to be fair to the man...he was just as good as he said he was. But I told him....I TOLD HIM... I FUCKING TOLD HIM!
-Dreadvan grabs the side of his hair and tugs at this head. He begins huffing for a second trying to regain his composure.-
"I told him hell or high water I was going to be here! I told him that hard work wasn't going to be enough this time. I may not have destroyed his career, or even injured him, but I know for a fact I left a scar. One I don't think that's ever going to heal.
These idiots that kidnapped me think I don't listen to them either. I now know that I will be at the next round of the End of Days tournament. I didn't even have to listen to why, and I don't give a FUCK about that either. All I cared about was who they said was next. And that's good....ol....Dukey boy..."
-Dreadvan laughs to himself.-
"DUUUUUUUUKE! DUUUUUKE! I'VE FINALLY GOT MY CHANCE AT YOU NOW DON'T I PRETTY BOY? MAYBE IF YOU RUSSIANS LAID OFF THE VODKA ONCE IN A WHILE YOU WOULDN'T HURT YOURSELVES!
I like that too, instead of getting in the ring you probably had your doctor--"
-Dreadvan speaks now in an odd falsetto with the twang of how you would talk to infants.-
"wite you a widdle sicky note. Dukey babby is fweeing bad, pwease no matchy."
-Dreadvan would then slam his hand against the sink behind him. Pieces of it would break off and the rest of it would fall to the floor. A geyser of water would squirt out at first and then trickle after losing pressure.-
"That was bullshit but I'm SO glad you've decided to show up to work. Now instead of the bingo hall you're going to be embarrassed in front of one of the largest crowds of your career. You won't even have Mr. Mullet and his match stick there in case things go wrong. No no buddy, the monster is going to be in the ring with the demon, alone.
The best part of all of this is, instead of the same Dreadvan you have probably been studying since you got a boo boo it's going to be the new me. The one that can't even contain himself even for a fucking second. I hope the flames that keep your spirit burning have enough gas to even be near me.
So please, show up this time. Prove to the world that you really are a monster, and don't just piss your bed when you hear a knock under your bed like the children you are used to scaring. But just know, like Card, you won't be leaving without a mark. And hear my words, I'm going to be after more than damaging your ego. I'm going to force you to be CAUTIOUS OF DEMONS."
-At this moment the lead agent would poke his head in the bathroom and just stare down at the blob taking up space on the floor. He would sigh and then retreat as the door opens up more revealing a squad of riot gear clad individuals. Several loud bursts would be made, and lodge multiple darts into Dread's body. This would of course send him into a loud rage and the phone that was in the hand of the demon would be tossed directly into the visor of his assailants. It would bust it open, but the feed would instantly cut a moment later.-