Gone So Soon (1st Person)
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Anger, depression, misery, just some of the words that describe what life is like today. Natural disasters occur, massacres happen, and half of the world doesn’t give a shit. That’s the problem; people lay hurt, broken, defenceless, and some even lay dead, while others just sit back in their chairs just counting the money in their hand. Cities destroyed, settlements ruined, and still, most people don’t even react. Years ago, my father, the person I trusted most in the world, was killed; hit by a car, his body was there, on the side of the road, lifeless, while the person who hit him drove on. He was found almost straight away, but the car and the driver could not be found, it seemed only me, and the person who found him, were the only people who gave a damn that my father was lying in a bloody heap on the cold concrete, the person who got him didn’t care, the person who was there reported that he just looked at him and drove off. I’ve had dreams since then of meeting the person, the only different thing though was the outcome, the outcomes included punching him, knocking him out, beating him to a bloody pulp, and one included killing the bastard, right there, right then. The one thought that never crossed my mind, however, was peace. I never once thought of making peace with him, the reason is that, he doesn’t deserve peace, I don’t care if it was an ‘accident’ the guy killed my Dad, and vengeance will be delivered, no matter what the cost will be, I will have my revenge.
“Samuel, you can come in now,” It was the day, the day that I had to come in and recognise the body. My mother, she refused to answer the phone when they wanted to ask her to come in, so instead, I had to. I remember the day, quite vividly, I remembered the walls were white, almost shiny; the ground was tiled, and fairly unsuitable for a police station. The woman escorted me down some stairs into the morgue, the morgue contrasted greatly with the upper levels, dirty, damp and dull are only a few words to describe the morgue, I felt my heart sink after every step, tears filled up my eyes, I wanted it to be someone else, I wanted it to be a mix up so badly, I finally arrived, a figure lied there, underneath a large sheet, I stepped closer and closer, my steps became shorter, extending the walk to the body. I finally arrived, I felt my face go red and heated, the person stood in front of me didn’t look sympathetic, despite the fact a 12 year old boy stood in front of him, being forced to identify someone who was possibly his father. He slowly lifted the sheet, revealing the person lying on the metal bed. I collapsed to my knees; his face was peaceful, yet lifeless. I couldn’t hold it back anymore; I felt the tears run from my eyes I tried telling myself constantly it wasn’t him, but there was no denying it, it was him. His eyes were open, but they didn’t hold any life. My hands grasped his shoulder; I didn’t want to let him go. A hand touched my arm, signalling me to get to my feet, I kept crying, my father was dead, I couldn’t believe it.
I managed to get myself to my feet; I could still feel the tears as they rolled down my cheek. I wasn’t able to take my eyes of my father, he was still lying there, I was hoping for him to get up, like nothing happened, like he was okay, either that, or I woke up, realising it was all a dream, but neither of them came to pass, he was dead, and it was real, very real. I could remember a million thoughts rushing through my head, all related to my father, and his killer. I could never remember the last thing I said to him, I can only hope it was good, and that it wasn’t some snide insult, or a sarcastic joke, I hope it was friendly, I really do. I walked out of the morgue, looking directly at my feet, ignoring everyone and everything around me as I walked straight out of the police station. The exterior didn’t look the same, not after what I saw in the morgue, not after I saw my father the way he was. Hatred filled my mind, aiming towards two people, the driver, and my mother. My mother, she didn’t answer the phone, why? She knew what happened, she knew my dad was hit by a car, and she knew he was going to die, but yet, she did nothing. It was like she didn’t even care what happened; did she even love my father? Did she want him to die? Or just wasn’t she bothered? Either way, I never forgave her after that, but yet, I still found myself having to cope with her, and every problem she had, ranging from her future boyfriends, to money. Future fucking boyfriends, how could she? She went through them like a knife through butter, going from boyfriend to boyfriend like my father never existed. Did I ask her why? No, I didn’t I always expected her to come to her senses, I should’ve thought better, considering who I was dealing with.
I Want This... I Need This (1st Person)
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Professor of Thuganomics, my friend, my former tag team partner, do you believe you can beat me? Do you honestly believe you can pin me in the middle of the ring, or make me tap out? You shouldn’t, I have been battered, bruised and beaten before, but every time, I have bounced back, I have come up from the ashes, I have become victorious every time. Besides, even on the off chance you do catch me by surprise and pick up the win, what would you do? Celebrate? Rub it in? I wouldn’t if I was you, that is because you know me too well, you know it will only be a matter of time when I get another shot, and if the next match takes place, you know that lightning never strikes twice. So it seems, either way, I’ll end up with the World Title. I’m not going to deny the fact that it won’t be a close match, because it will be a close match, it will be the toughest match I would have ever took part in, but I know that I will win, I know that at the end of the match, the bell will ring, the music will go, and I will be in the middle of the ring, with the title held up in the air with my hands grasping it tightly. I will never let that title go back to you at the end of the night, I’m sorry Bob, but you know I can’t let that happen, you know I need this more than anyone, you know I want this more than you do, and you know that I won’t stop until I win. I want to ask the same question again Bob, do you really believe that you can beat me?
I can recall you saying in an interview on Raw that you know every single move in my arsenal, do you Bob? Do you really? I thought you were smarter than that, I thought that you knew me, seems to me that I was mistaken. If you knew me, then you would know that I am full of surprises, if you knew me, then you would know that I am one of the most unpredictable people to walk through the ropes and into the ring, and that makes me a dangerous opponent to face, a very dangerous opponent. Your comment on Raw may leave you over confident, maybe even arrogant, when it comes to our match, and since you hold that title, I would assume that you would know that over confidence, arrogance, can lead to an embarrassing loss, unless you can learn to control it, and considering that you choked at the Royal Rumble, and lost the match, it is obvious that you haven’t learned to control it, not one bit, and because of that, you have to be careful, a prime example of over confidence losing you a match is the KO incident. Kurt got cocky ever since the night that he won the title from Alex Kendall, he thought that, because he won the title, that he was the best person to enter Thy WWE, and he wasn’t able to control his confidence, just like you can’t, Bob, and how did that end up? He lost the title on his first title defence, just like you will, Bob, you will too, lose your title on the first defence you have, and once again, it is because you can’t control your arrogance, so naturally, the title should go to someone who can control there arrogance, and that person, Bob, is me.
Now Bob, don’t think from those comments that I dislike you, because I don’t in face, aside from the Knights, I respect you the most in the business, I have always expected you to have my back when I needed it, and you know that when you really need help, I would be there, to help you out. I trust you enough to know that you won’t attack me backstage, or before the match, and I won’t as well, because we both respect each other too much, and because you and I know the match will go down as an instant classic, so we don’t want to taint it with premature attacks. Also, don’t think that I believe the match will be easy, because like I have stated, it will be the toughest match I have ever faced, and I know that it will be the toughest match you have ever taken part in. You know that you will have to do everything you know if you want to keep up with me, as I need to do the same as well, but, the advantage I have, is, like I have said, my unpredictability, since my absence, I have trained a variety of moves, a lot more that I previously did, and that will give me the edge because that means I know more than punches, kicks and grapples, which, I’m sorry to say Bob, makes up the majority of your move set. Also, another advantage I have is that I already have wins against you, this includes the Royal Rumble 2012, the Eternal vs. The Resistance, and the United States ladder match. This not only gives me a mental advantage, but also a psychological advantage, because you know those wins hang over your head like a banner of shame, they cling on to you, as a sign that you never had what it takes to beat me, and with my advanced skills and moves, do you think the result would be any different than before? I didn’t think so.
We Are The Knights Of The Round Table (3rd Person)
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“Come on man, focus! Focus!” FEAR holds up the gloves, Barton swings hard, aiming towards the glove his fist connects with the glove, making a loud noise, tiny dust parts are seen being pushed out of the glove when it is hit. “The fuck was that? I said focus! Fucking hit me,” The gloves go up once more, and the same scene takes place, only a louder noise is heard as the punch connects with more force added on to it. “We need you to win at Mania, Barton,” Barton resumes his guard stance, waiting for the gloves to be raised once more, “We really do, but if you want to win, you have to hit harder, be focused,” The gloves go up, staying for longer, a torrent of punches are flung in the direction of the gloves, “You need to be better than Thuganomics, you need to be faster, and stronger,” The workout session continues, many more exercises are used, testing the body and endurance of Barton and the high competitiveness of FEAR. After ending, the two Knights are seen sat there, on a bench, at the perimeter of the abandoned gym they were using. Barton is leaning forward, water bottle in his hand, while FEAR is leaning against the wall.
“Richard?” Barton turns his head over to FEAR, who still stays there, leaning back on the wall.
“What is it?” Fear doesn’t move still, his mask lays in his hand, hanging off the bench, while his face remains in shadows, so there is no way anyone can see what he looks like.
“Mania, you think we’ll win?” Barton unscrews the cap off his water bottle, drinking it up, savouring the taste, wanting to get refreshed as much as he can.
“What do you mean, Sam?” FEAR’s hand runs over his head, wiping any sweat from it, loud breaths can be heard from him, as he is trying to recuperate from the intense workout he and Barton had just gone through.
“What do you think I mean?” Barton stands up, pacing around the dusty room, creaking the floor boards as he moved around the room, “At Wrestlemania, we need to rely on each other to win, or else everything we have done, would be for nothing, all of it,” Not slowing down at all, Barton carries on around the room, “If even one person loses, then he would have completely let down the Knights, Wrestlemania is meant to be our night, our time to shine, the time, where we will become champions, so, I ask you again, Richard. Wrestlemania, do you think the Knights will win?” Barton stops, his eyes locked on FEAR, awaiting his answer.
“Do I think the Knights will win?” FEAR stands up, his mask is still in his hand, but his face is still covered. He walks close to Barton, until he is almost face to face with Barton, “Fuck yeah, the Knights will win,” FEAR looks at Barton, shaking his head slightly, “We are the most dominant force to ever step into Thy WWE, we already have half the titles in the business, and you are asking me if we will win?” FEAR steps back, “What do you think?”
“What do I think?” Barton laughs slightly, scratching the back of his head, “I think that the night could go very badly for us, I think that one mistake can fuck us up, everything we have accomplished, one wrong move will fuck it up,” Barton steps back, creating slight distance between him and FEAR, “But then again, I’m also thinking, we can win, and if we do, what then? We would have done everything we can, so what would we do if we win?”
“When we win Sam,” FEAR speaks up almost instantly, “When we win. There is no if about it,” FEAR places the mask onto his face, fixing it so it is just right, “And when we win, we do whatever the fuck we want to do, because when we win, Thy WWE will belong to us, we will have everything at our disposal, people like Kurt, they will bow to us, they will be scared of us, because when we win, we will show the entire world, that we are the fucking Knights Of The Round Table,” FEAR turns around ready to walk away, but he stops to say something else to Barton, “You hear that, Sam? We are the Knights Of The Round Table, keep telling yourself that mate, and we should be victorious at Wrestlemania,” FEAR laughs slightly, walking straight out of the gym, almost tearing the door off of its hinges when he leaves.
Barton stands there, taking in what FEAR just told him, he repeats the words in his head, he is a part of the Knights, he slowly convinces himself he will win at Mania, that every Knight will win. A smile slowly crawls its way on Barton’s face, as he repeats the words in his head, before they slowly come out of his mouth, quiet at first, but they eventually get louder and louder until it echoes loudly off the walls.
“We are the Knights Of The Round Table, we are the Knights Of The Round Table,” The chant turns to a shout as Barton begins to make his way out of the door, “We are the Knights Of The Round Table, we are the Knights Of The Round Table,” Finally, the shout turns to full volume as Barton swings the door open, the door smashed against the wall and as a result, the door is shot off its hinges, falling onto the floor, but Barton ignores it, instead, the chant continues, and can be heard from far away, “We are the Knights Of The Round Table, we are the Knights Of The Round Table,” Barton leaves the room, but the shout continues, as he keeps getting pumped up going into his upcoming Wrestlemania match, “WE ARE THE KNIGHTS OF THE FUCKING ROUND TABLE!”
Return of a ‘friend’ (3rd Person)
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“We are the Knights Of The Round Table,” Barton opens the door to his large house, the house was pitch black, the lights were completely off, the only light that entered the house was the street light outside, shining through the front door of the house, creating a mysterious effect in the house. Barton steps onto the clean carpet, closing the door behind him, blocking out most of the light in the house. Barton attempts to navigate through the dark house, accidently hitting things on the way, almost knocking down pottery in the hallway. Barton makes his way into the living room, flicking on the light as he enters, finally bringing light into the house. Barton takes off his leather jacket, flinging it onto the sofa as he enters, before making his way over to the mini fridge next to the TV, pulling out his favourite drink, Barton stands up straight, noticing something in the corner of his eye, a shadow, but not his. Barton focuses his attention on the shadow, before turning around, to see if there anyone there. The figure stands there, once recognisable, he now looks drastically different, but Barton could tell the resemblance between him and the figure, it’s Martin.
“Hello, Sam,” Martin’s once clean, hair, has now grown out, becoming messy and dirty, a deep stubble has grown over his face altering his appearance. He looks at Barton, emotionless, staring at him with empty looking eyes.
“How the fuck did you get here?” Barton turns the bottle around in his hands, as if he was going to use it as a weapon if he was provoked to do so. “Get the fuck out of my sight, right now,” Martin doesn’t move, his eyes still fixed on Barton.
“I want you to calm down Sam, I’m not here to fight,” Martin finally averts his gaze, looking down to his feet, “I’ve fucked up Sam, bad,” Martin slides down the wall he was leaning against, until he is curled up on the floor, “I need help,”
“What are you talking about,” Barton lowers the bottle in his hand, going into a more peaceful, but yet, suspicious stance. “What do you mean by you’ve fucked up,” Martin looks up at Barton.
“I mean, I’ve fucked up, I did some things I shouldn’t have done,” Martin looks back down, tucking his head between his knees, his jeans are ripped, showing his rough time, “I got kicked out my house man, I did some fucked up drugs, lost every friend I had, I’m fucked dude,”
“And you thought you’d come here? Of all places, after everything what happened,” Barton places the bottle on a nearby table, still suspicious and prepared for anything Martin will do.
“Yeah, I came here, you want to know why?” Martin looks directly at Barton, who remains silent, wanting him to continue, “It’s because, after all that’s happened, I know you’d help me,” Martin climbs to his feet, using the wall as help, “You hold a lot of respect Sam, especially for family, that’s why I knew you would help me, please don’t prove me wrong cousin,”
“What about the guy you was with, in Thy,” Barton steps back, wanting distance between him and Martin, “Mike, I think he was called?”
“Mike,” Martin scoffs slightly, “Fuck Mike, I haven’t spoken to him since we left Thy, hell, I don’t even know where he is,” Martin steps closer to Barton, “Please, Sam, I need somewhere to stay, just for a few nights, hopefully, I can get some things sorted, please, don’t turn me down” Barton looks at his cousin, up and down, seeing what state he is in. Barton grabs the bottle and holds it out for his cousin.
“Here, drink,” Martin looks at Barton, and his drink, Martin grabs the drink from his cousin’s hand, “You can sleep there tonight,” Barton relents and points to the sofa, which Barton’s still rests on. “A few days, only, you need any clothes, ask me before you take anything,” Barton pulls his jacket off of the sofa, creating room, “Bottle opener is in kitchen, first drawer on the left,” Barton turns around, wanting to get away from his cousin, after what has happened.
“Sam, thank you,” Barton stops after he hears this, “I knew I could trust you, seems I was right,”
“Martin,” Barton turns around, looking back at his cousin, “You better not make me regret this,” Barton leaves the room, leaving his cousin, smiling slightly.
Wrestlemania (1st Person)
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Bob Cena, the Professor of Thuganomics, my friends, my former tag team partner, you should know that I deserve the title win, ever since I won the Royal Rumble, since the time when my foot hit CM Punk, knocking him straight off the apron, and onto the floor; you know that everybody was just counting down the days until the title ended up with me, before I walk out of Wrestlemania the winner, before I become the World Champion. Bob, you know you are my friend, you know I respect deeply, but you should also know that me respecting you will never make me let up in our match, you should know that I will do everything in my power, everything in my arsenal, to defeat you, I will make sure that you will not leave Wrestlemania the World Champion, you can bet my life on that Bob. Ever since I recruited you to be my tag team partner, you should’ve known that it would end up this way, you should’ve known that the story would end at Wrestlemania, and so it shall. The story of Barton and the Professor of Thuganomics will end, the story will become a full circle when I win and am declared the new World Champion, and Bob, if you try to stop that, then you will be denying destiny, you will be denying fate, and you should know that destiny and fate, can not be changed, only delayed.
What will you fight for Bob, will you fight for pride? For power? Or just to keep the title around your waist? Me? Well, I will fight for everything, I will fight for the Knights, I will fight for my father, I will fight to bring a change into the company, I will fight for a new Thy WWE, don’t get in my way. My father, what will you say if you were alive to this day, to see me step onto the Grandest Stage Of Them All? What will you say if you could see me go for the title, will you give me words of encouragement? Will you root for me? Or will you just be there? Either way, I fight for you, I fight for your memory father, I will fight to make sure that the Barton name, is never, ever forgotten, and that, is something I can promise you, it is something I will cherish, nobody will forget my name, nobody will forget who I am, nobody will forget what I have accomplished, and as long as they don’t, I will mention you, so that the people, my fans, the world, will never forget you, or your name. So Bob, as I have said, don’t get in my way, don’t try and block my path to the title, don’t try and deny me my destiny, you will be beaten, and standing in my way would only make it a lot more painful and humiliating for you, Bob. I know I will win, because, once more, I have something that is worth fighting for, but you Bob, you don’t all you want is to inflate your already huge ego, and carry on claiming that you are better than me, better than anyone in the business, when you should know that, that is complete bullshit.
You are not the best in the world, or the business, you see Bob, you know I am, I am the greatest wrestler in the world and the greatest fighter in the business, all you are is a brawler Bob, a street thug who holds on to the title like it is drugs on a street corner. All you know Bob, is how to push and shove your way into a win, that is not wrestling, no it isn’t nor is it fighting. Fighting and wrestling involves having complete concentration, it involves you having to be on top of your game 24 hours a day, 7 hours a week, you have to be prepared for everything that comes towards you, something that I am, I am prepared, that is why I won the Royal Rumble, that is why I am going to walk out of the event the new champion. But, Bob, of course, if you want to continue claiming that you are the best in the world, then go ahead, try to make yourself feel better, but don’t go blaming lady luck, when you lose the title at the Wrestlemania due to a combination of arrogance, destiny and an inability to cope with my skills. Bob, what did you feel when I won the Royal Rumble? Did you feel upset, or did you fell angry? Either way, you shouldn’t you should not have felt anything, this is because you should have known that I would have won, you should have known after what happened last year, that I would not let the same thing happen twice, to be honest, you would have been better off if you would have never shown up to the event at all. Bob, you must know that when I won the Rumble, that it would end up this way, that it would end up with me grabbing what is rightfully mine, the title of Thy WWE World Champion.
Change (1st Person)
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“Change?” He looked down on me with condescending eyes, he always thought he was superior to me, he always had, in many ways, stature, intelligence, he was right, but in determination, and speed, he wasn’t. I was 16 at the time, that day was one of the most important days of my entire life, the person in front of me had is shirt off, exposing his body to his adoring fans, many of them female, “Change, you will never change nothing Sam, the reason of that is,” He caught me off guard, I remember a fist flying towards my face, there was nothing I could do, I was knocked far off my feet, I felt the back of my head smash down onto the floor below, my eyes were about to go black, I was about to lose my conscious, I was about to lose my first fight, my vision was fading, only to be interrupted by the figure throwing himself onto me, the people around us chanted his name, giving him a reason to fight, to make them happy, more fists came hurling at my face, one punch, then another, then another, eventually, the blood would cover my vision, the guy soon moved off me, giving my stomach room to breathe, I used my power to roll myself onto my stomach, “You’re nothing Sam, that’s why you will never change anything,” I tried to get to my feet, but as soon as I reached my hands and knees, a foot came towards my stomach, knocking me slightly in the air and back down on my face, the wind was pushed straight out of my body, I struggled to breathe. Now, sounds were blocked out, time felt like it slowed down, the blood still covered my eyes, the only noise I could possibly hear was the sound of my own blood hitting the concrete floor. “Only people who mean anything, people who matter, could change anything.”
I didn’t matter? Did I mean anything? Since my father died, I had to learn to fight, I needed to fend for myself, nobody else was going to, my brothers certainly weren’t they were never fucking there. What would my dad do? Would he tell me I mattered? Would he comfort me in a time like this, would he fight off the 18 year old person? Would he call the police? Or just tell me that I’m a pussy and that I should fight back. It was at that very moment, when I realised, I am something in the forsaken world, I do mean something, my father means something, to me if to nobody else. It was at that time when I knew, I was a pussy, I was letting this guy punch me, and that if I wanted to, I could fight, I could feel it, I could feel a hand go rushing towards my head, but things kept on going slow, I found myself taking a stand against people like him, against bullies, against everything that remains unchanged, I felt a second wind go through myself, I flipped myself over onto my back, the blood over my eyes slid off, clearing my vision, just barely dodging the oncoming hand. The hand, still going slow, pulled back, I saw my opportunity, I cocked my leg back, and flung it forward, the kicks hit him straight on the knee, the man’s leg pushed back, the momentum pushed around to the rest of his body, he lost his balance, I could see him began to fall forward towards my body, as if he aimed it so he would try and hit me when he went down. I couldn’t let that happen, I knew that if he fell at me from that force, I would be down and out, I didn’t want that, that couldn’t happen, I needed to win, I needed this, so I did the first thing what came to my mind.
I didn’t move, didn’t even try, thinking back, it would’ve been the logical option, but the rush of being in the position I was in right now. Instead, I raised a fist high, I clenched it tightly, he never even saw it coming, he was coming in too fast, the fist connected against his jaw, just centimetres from his nose, his full body twisted around, his body changed course, instead falling to the side of me, landing hard on his back, I realised, we had now switched positions, now, I was the attacker, and he was the defender, his head hit the floor, it was like time reversed, but we switched roles, I used my power to force myself into an attacking position, my fists shot towards his face, but this time, I refused to make the mistake he did and stop, instead I carried on hitting him with all my strength. I didn’t care what happened at that point, and that point was made clear to everyone around us, crystal clear. Blood drowned my wrists as the punchers connected with his face, eventually, he stopped moving, he didn’t even grunt in pain anymore, the blood on his face made it unclear to see if his eyes were open, I couldn’t stop myself, I kept hitting him, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to stop then. After everything he said to me over the years, spat in my face, called me names, punched my face, stole my money, this was my revenge, my retribution. Fists still hit his face, cracking noises still erupted when they connected. The crowd went completely silent, scared and shocked at my actions, I wanted to ignore the silence, but I couldn’t they indicated the punishment I was handed to the person on the floor. Despite this, I still carried on; blood now engulfed his entire face, covering his hair, changing it from a light blood, to a dark, deadly red.
It was only when I stopped, when I realised the extent of my actions, he didn’t move, I couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not, the wind made it hard, I finally pulled my hands away, hands grasped my arms, gripping tightly, ripping me off the defenceless body, I was continued to be pulled backwards, my legs were dragged along the gravel, the pain was present from the punches at my face but they were not hurting as much as I thought, the rush was still there, and that prevented them from hurting much. My body was still moved, I did not resist, what did I do there? Was he dead, I don’t know I never found out, I just only hope I never find out, the person could’ve been the next Prime Minister, or the next Mohandas Gandhi, his life would’ve been changed that day, his whole perspective would’ve been changed, the people who saw the whole the incident, they would change too, if I saw him again, if he lived, what would I do, if the moment happened, would I say I’m sorry? Maybe, the moment reminded me of the man who killed my father, have I become that man, have I changed many people’s lives in just one incident. Did I become the person I hated? I hoped not, at that moment, I really hoped I didn’t. If I did, what would I do, would that change my perspective of him, would I become more sympathetic towards the man who killed my father, would I feel what he felt, those thoughts filled my mind, before I remembered one thing, he ran. He left the scene, like a little bitch, he got scared and ran, I am not like that, I am not him, I do not run from troubles, at that time, I changed everything about me, my perspective changed, I became more aggressive, more meaner, that change made me become who I am, I got money that way, it was that day everything untwined, that day is the main day what led to this very day, the day where I fight for the title.
The Aftermath(1st Person)
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I finally got put down; I was dragged around the corner, far away from anyone else, away from the beaten man, the person who grabbed me knelt down, looking directly at me, the guy looked a few years older than me, little did I know that, that person who got me away would be my best friend, the person who I trust with my life. He looked back around the corner, he looked back, slightly worried, the towering figure grabbed my arm, pulling me up to my feet quickly.
“We need to get out of here, follow me, come on,” He still held on to my arm, pulling me away, trying to get away from the crowd, eventually, his speed picked up, he let of my arm, but I kept on running with him, I needed to get away as quickly as possible, what I did then, there is no way I could explain it, I found myself turning around when he did, we kept running, I could hear commotion near us, meaning the previous crowd were after us. We finally arrived at a house, abandoned and run down, the person grabbed the door handle, twisting it, to no avail, “Shit, shit, shit,” The crowd was getting closer, and we both knew it. “Get back,” I didn’t need telling twice, I took a small step back, the person pulled his leg back and fired it forward towards the door, he didn’t need any power to break down the old door, but he put some in anyway, the result was a fairly large hole in the door, he looked back towards me, signalling at the door, “Go on, get through,” I looked back at him, at that moment, I thought he was insane.
“What? You want me to fit through there? Are you crazy?” He looked at me, his expression changed to become more serious.
“Don’t fucking argue, get the fuck in now,” He grabbed me, pulling me forward, I was forced to breathe in, the pain of the fight had settled in, making a small task like that, incredibly painful, it was intense, but I managed to fit in. The saviour, on the other hand, had more struggle, he left leg got stuck tight as he tried pushing through, slight pain rushed through his face as the door began to cut through his jeans and through his leg, blood seeped through the jeans, dripping down the door, the crowd was getting louder, meaning they were getting closer I realised what I needed to do just then.
“Stay still,” the guy looked at me when I said this, I still remember that look, the look that told me he thought I was crazy.
“What?” A shook my head, I saw an opportunity to do something, but it could be risky.
“I said, stay still, or else it’s going to hurt more,” He carried on looking at me, but his look slowly transitioned to a small nod. He closed his eyes tightly, ready to face what pain he is going to go through. I breathed in through the pain, I had one chance to do what I was going to do, and I needed to do it right. I cocked my leg back, exactly like he did when he knocked the door down, I pushed my leg forward, kicking under his leg, where it was trapped. The door splintered and broke, but the part that was once cutting his leg, shot upward, going through his leg, but not out the other side. His scream in pain was drowned out by the ever approaching crowd, but it just managed to do the trick, he slowly slid forward, squeezing through the door, flipping over as he went through. He laid there, on the floor, slowly crawling his way so he was resting against the door, holding his impaled leg, his head was underneath the hole; so the crowd would be unable to see him if they just looked through. The door he was leaning on had no door handle on the inside, which explained why we had to climb through. I was there, on the wall next to the door. We had to wait, hoping they would pass us, and not notice the hole in the door. It was one of the most intense moments of my live, I closed my eyes, and tried my best to breathe silently, but I winced every time because of the pain. The moment of truth arrived, I could hear the crowd arrive, they must’ve seen the blood on the door, or the hole, because they stopped, I could hear every word they said. They were going to make their way to the door; I looked down at the person next to the door, who simply put up a finger to his lips, wanting me to be quiet. The crowd, like a pack of hungry animals approached the door slowly, I can remember how much I wished they would not see us, my wish came true that day. They must’ve not seen anything, because they left, they turned on their help and left. The person next to the door rolled so he was away from the hole, he stood up sharply, grabbing the wood in his leg, pulling it out quick, like a bandage, blood squirted out the floor, he looked up at me, noticing the way I was holding my ribs, and then spoke up.
“You alright, man?” I nodded my head, while not taking my eyes off of his leg. “What’s you name kid?” I finally looked up, straight at him, he looked genuinely concerned about the condition I was in.
“My name, my name is Sam,” I removed myself from the wall, approaching the person who saved me, “Sam Barton,” The saviour nodded slightly, a smirk crossed his face.
“Well, Sam, I’m Callum, Callum Jones,” Callum Jones, he became my best friend, still is, the day I met Callum, the day my life fucking changed.
Playing With Fire (1st Person)
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You’re playing with fire Bob, you know that if you ever fought me again, you would not end up on the winning side, I’ve proved it before, you even had to have Crack to help you out, but you still lost, you tried to attack me when my back was turned in the match, but you still lost, what did you think when you were on the mat, and you had to watch me climb the ladder and retrieve the United States Championship, did you feel upset that your plan failed, did you feel frustrated that all you did that night had all been for nothing, because it did. You tried all you knew Bob, but it was not enough, it was not nearly enough, and now Bob, I had become better, much better, and Bob, you better hope to god that you have too, or else the match Mania would not last long at all, you need to hope that you have improved since then, because you will find yourself on the receiving end of a Fall From Grace, or an Arm Triangle, either way, the match will end with me coming out on top, and you, just like what happened in the ladder match, you will realise that everything you have done, in the match and before the match, would have been all for nothing. Also, when you won the title, was the first thought in your mind? Was it the fact that you would have to face, and lose the title to the greatest wrestler in the world and greatest fighter in the business? If I were you, I wouldn’t spend my time training for our match; I would spend your time celebrating with the title, taking pictures with it, because you know that when you won the title, the title reign would have never lasted long, not at all.
Also, at Wrestlemania, the Knights Of The Round Table are there, Beno is there in the Money In the Bank Ladder Match, Anger is there against Stalker Knight, and Brian Gunn will be there against Jacob Senn, in the Hell In A Cell match. All of Thy WWE knows how Mania will turn out. Jacob Senn would find himself ploughed through the top of the sinister structure, and the TV Title would remain with Brian Gunn. Beno would climb over the broken bodies of his opponents and retrieve the briefcase suspended high above the ring, just like I did when I won the Ladder Match for the United States Championship. Anger, that guy would absolutely destroy Stalker and will walk away, grasping the Intercontinental Title. And I, Samuel Barton, would defeat my good friend Professor of Thuganomics, Bob Cena, and I will go home, I will go the Knights, with the Thy WWE Title firmly around my waist. FEAR does not have a match at Mania, but if he did, would he win? Damn right he would, he is a crazy son of a bitch and I know he would do everything he could to win. Wrestlemania is our night, at Wrestlemania, the Knights Of The Round Table will show everyone why we are the most dominant force to ever step up, to ever walk into the business, The World’s Greatest Superstar, Brian Gunn, the deadly independent star, FEAR and Anger, the multi time Championship holder, Beno, and me, The greatest wrestler in the world and the greatest fighter in the business, will be champions come Mania, and nobody, not the Money In The Bank opponents, not Stalker Knight, not Jacob Senn, and certainly not Bob Cena, can deny us of our destiny.
If you do lose Bob, what will you blame it on? Will you blame it on the night, will you blame it on the crowd, or will you just say I got lucky? Would you become another Kurt Orton? Bitching and moaning about another title shot, in one way, you will become another Kurt Orton. That is because, just like him, you would lose your Title you cherish so much in the very first defence you will take part in. Also, I have to ask, Bob, are you a coward, it seems that way to me, after all, you betrayed Eternal and joined me once more, is that because you are genuinely my friend, or is it because you know that when we fought, I would end up eliminating you from the match? Either way, I came out the winner in that match, just like I came out the winner in the ladder match for the United States Championship, just like I came out the winner in the Royal Rumble match, a match where I eliminated you Bob, Bob, you are just a paper champion, I’m sorry to say, my good friend, but it is true, you are just a paper champion, like Kurt Orton was, and at Wrestlemania, the paper will be burnt. When you lose, don’t blame anything, but destiny, because destiny wants us to win, destiny wants me to beat you. I have come so far, everything will end, I’m so sorry, Bob, but I need this, I want this a hell of a lot more than you do, and that, along with my pure skill will be the factors which will lead to my victory over you. I don’t need to luck to beat you, even if it is going to be a good match, I won’t need luck, in fact Bob, have my luck, I’m not going to fucking need it.
A Disrespectful Knight (3rd Person)
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The night is now, the time to show the world what is going to happen. The matches are now over, all but one, Barton is there, waiting for his name to be called, he breathes in, and breathes out, footsteps approaches him from behind, along with a peculiar noise, Barton turns around swiftly, the King has arrived, as has Merlin, his advisor approaches him. They look at him, behind their masks; an angry expression can be seen.
“The day of reckoning is nigh,” King Arthur speaks up, “Your match is fast approaching, what is your strategy, Knight?”
“My strategy, King?” Barton looks away from them, “My strategy has always been the same,” He looks back towards them, “Win,”
“Don’t become arrogant Knight,” Merlin speaks up, leaning on his stick, “Or else you will become disrespectful, just like your fellow Knight, Brian Gunn,”
“It’s not arrogant when everyone knows I will win, the title will come with us tonight, you know that, I also know you have complete faith in me, or else you would have not recruited me,” Barton hears his name being called out over the PA System, he turns around, ready to meet his fate.
“You are correct, sir Knight,” The King’s voice stops Barton in his track, he turns his head towards the King, “Don’t make me regret it Knight,”
Barton walks away, ready to fight for what he wants, “Trust me King, you won’t,”
