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Post by Beno/Maven on May 27, 2013 13:09:44 GMT -5
The scene begins with a view of Camelot. Heavy rain falls from the clouds above. The normally full streets of Camelot are desserted. All the laughter in the land has vanished. We cut to the inside of the castle of Camelot. Beno sits in a chair next to the large round table. For the first time, we see him clad in full battle armor. Blood red leg plates, chain mail, boots, gauntlets and a winged helmet sits upon the table. A large golden chain with the rings of FEAR, Anger, Barton, Brian Gunn and Beno hangs from his large neck. He has a solemn look upon his face. On the table next to the helmet is the Thy WWE World championship. Beno carresses the gold plated and stares determinedly at the camera.
I can see the signs. As the black clouds begin to loom over the kingdom of Camelot, the thunder and lightning will sure to follow. Fear has been gripping the good people of Camelot. I hear it in their voices. I can see it in their faces. The joyous laughter, the beautiful singing and the smiles have been replaced by sorrow, grief and paranoia. They do not know what the future holds for them or the glorious home that they helped create. Many of them have questioned whether or not their heroes will be able to stand the siege that is drawing nearer by the moment. Camelot has withstood many battles. Yet this threat is larger than any that we have faced in our time. Yet in truth, this threat is one that has spread throughout the ages. What do we fear the most than fear itself? Nothing comes to mind when i am asked this difficult question. Since the dawn of time man has always feared one thing or another. But nothing compared to the fear of fear itself. It's human nature to fear the unknown. The correct definition is Phobophobia. This is what is plaguing the citisens of Camelot. In this case, Christian Knight represents a very real threat of fear. He has vowed to take everything that Camelot and myself have worked so hard to obtain. His very existence has threatened this wonderous kingdom. And that cannot be allowed to continue.
This all started in June of 2012 when the Knights of the roundtable were chosen. Back then, Christian Knight was a lowly executive within the company. Yet he despised us for what we were. For what we accomplished. And for doing something that he never could. That was gain glory, fame and honor. Christian watched as we soared through the ranks of the Thy WWE roster and devistated everything and everyone in our path. Along the way and just to prove a point, we captured every single championship that this company had to offer. From that moment on, Christian Knight, Vince McMahon, Austin Starr and every other corporate piece of trash knew that there was nothing they could do to slow us down. Over the next few months, Christian Knight was slowly clawing his way up Vince McMahons ass and into a bigger seat of power. While that occured, the Knights continued their reign of dominance and some would say terror. Our rise to the top proved to be a bloody and gruesome one as we took it us to a place where no other Thy WWE superstar would dare to tread. Broken bodies and spirits littered the road that was traveled. That could have only made Christians hatred for the Knights and myself stronger. It was then that I became aware of Christians ambitions. He was climbing up the ladder quickly. Too quickly for his own good. The grand plan had to be completed before he accomplished his goal. To become the general manager of Monday Night Raw. The next few months proved to be a challenging one. We were met by two rag tag group of misfits with bad intentions on their minds. The Horseman of apocalypse and the Resistance both felt that they were being pushed aside. They wanted what we had. The power, the money and the respect.
Even though they fought valiantly, they were no match for us. Those men weren't cut from an elite cloth like we were. In the struggle for power, sever violence followed. Week in and week out multiple assaults occurred from all ends. Finally, Vince McMahon declared a cease and dissist order. He wouldn't have his precious stars sent to the hospital by my brothers and I. For the first time ever in professional wrestling, a three team championship scramble match was made for at Justice For Some. This would inevitably put an end to this gang warfare of sorts. We all know that this wasn't what Vince McMahon wanted. The ratings were through the roof through this period of time. The company was raking in millions and the fans were just eating it all up. Why would he care if it went on? No the real mastermind behind this match was none other than Christian knight himself. My sources within management had informed me that Christian had been whispering in McMahons ear for quite some time now. He was one step away from gaining the General Manager position. He wanted nothing more than the factions to destroy one another. Christian wanted the Knights out of the picture for good. Yet as the Fates have shown us, that didn't happen. On December 31st, 2012 the one thing that Christian Knight wanted didn't occur. The Knights of the Round-table stood tall at the end of the knight with two additional championships and a new brother. My dream had finally come true. I was crowned the Thy WWE champion after over a year of biding my time. Christian had failed. That was something he was quite use to by now.
Beno stands up and grabs the championship. He slowly makes his way through the many corridors of the castle.
On February 4th, Christian Knight finally got his wish. He became the new General manager of Monday Night Raw. And with that, he attempted to assert himself at the alpha male. What he to obtain that position, only he and Vince McMahon truly know. And to be honest, I could care less. Christian on February 11th, you made the biggest mistake of your life when you singled myself and the Knights out. You thought that with your position you could abuse your powers like Austin Starr did. You had the audacity to belittle me in front of my brothers and the entire world. You suspended us indefinitely for questioning what little authority you have. And I'd give you credit for that if you had not hid behind a couple dozen of security guards. Like so many other plans of yours, it came up just a tad short. Even though you sit in that General Manager position, you have no authority to suspend a superstar. For the first time in his life, Vince McMahon did something right and overrode that pathetic decision. The look on your face told it all Christian. You were irrate and if I'm not mistaken, a bit embarrassed. You thought you had seen the last of us. You were wrong, my friend. That didn't stop you from trying once more to get rid of us. You actually placed Bret Hart, Joey The Bastard and myself in a triple threat match against once another. Perhaps you thought by doing so you'd drive a wedge between us. You could not have thought for a moment that by booking that match you would only make our bond stronger. As professional wrestlers, it's our job to beat the hell out of each other. Joseph and Bret know that. In the end, we are still brothers. It didn't matter who won the match. The only thing that mattered was that you once again failed.
Time and time again you tried to screw me out of MY World championship. You made my match against Kurt Orton at Anarchy a casket match. What better way to get rid of two thorns in your side than to have one of them put to rest. Even with the odds stacked against me, I overcame then hyperthetically spit in your face. Less than twenty four hours later, you successfully abused your position as general Manager once again. You saw the bruises, the cuts. If you couldn't succeed in forcing me to lose my World championship, then surely you could take the Tag Team championships off of Joseph and myself. Ever though the two of us were battered and bruised, we sent Nero and Morgan packing that night. I could nearly hear that television smash in your office when you were foiled again. Your games were all the same Christian. It was time that you understood exactly who you were dealing with. The message that was sent to you was loud and clear.
Before I dismantled the false prophet known as Jacob Senn, your two lackies paid the price. The only way to etch my message into your skull was to annihilate those closest to you. Luscious Leftfoot and Mr Swag-A-Liciouss broken bodies laid motionless in the center of the ring. Your days were officially numbered. Those words I spoke at the end of the night were nothing but the truth. The very fact that you were trying so hard to dethrone me proved that you were nothing more than a jealous and envious bully in a suit. As I've stated before many times before, you couldn't cut it in the ring. Your mediocre career was cut short because you didn't have the heart nor the skill to get it done. So I did something that no one expected. I gave you a chance to do what every man in this company wishes for. A chance to hold the most prestigious championship in all of professional wrestling. And like the greedy tyrant that you are, you hastily accepted. It was exceedingly easy to manipulate your emotions and lure you into a match Christian. To be honest I thought it would take a bit more scheming and planning. Never the less, you saved me quite a bit of time and resources.
In the weeks that followed, you gave LeftFoot and Swag championship matches. Both times I left them on their backs. I knew what you were doing Christian. You were trying to soften me up before our historic match. You've played nearly every single card in your deck Christian. All that is left is the infamous joker card. And we all know that the joker is worthless. It has no real place in the deck. Just like you have no real business being in a wrestling ring. I'll make sure to prove that to the world Christian.
When you first announced the triple cage, a number of scenarios ran through my head. I could break your body and be rid of you Christian. Both of our careers could end in the blink of an eye. You could realize your dream and climb the mountain to cement your legacy. This could go down as the greatest match in Thy WWe history. Winning the first ever triple cage will immortalize one of us Christian. Yet you don't comprehend just what you've gotten yourself into.
Allow me to tell you what these cage represent in my mind. This may be a first for either of us, but it is something I've dealt with all of my adult and adolescent life. As a child, I was overweight. i was a victim of relentless bullying. They would tease me, smack me around, laugh at me. All of this abuse went on through most of my childhood. It was a proverbially cage that I could not escape from. I was confined to this cage by those who bullied me simply because I was obese. It wasn't until I trimmed down and hospitalized them years later that I was able to break free from my confines. The second cage represents a cage I confined myself in. One that was fueled by a heroine and cocaine addiction. From the abuse I received as a child, I grew up as a stone fashed sullen mane. I was full of rage. I would assault someone for just looking at me the wrong way. Then I found the lethal vices. Heroine and cocaine helped me deal with the pain of the past. I was numb. I lived on the edge and I didn't give a shit about anything anymore. But that habit was an expensive one. I constantly felt the need to get high and have all those years of pain wash away. I resorted to petty robbery to gain the money that I needed to feel good about myself. Until the one day that I was arrested on a trumped up charge. I took a long look at myself in the cell mirror Christian. The man that I have become wasn't who i was destined to be. I found myself literally in a cage. The one thing that I broken free from. I took a vow that day break free of my addictions and become who I was destined to be
.
.
.
.
.
...A champion. A father that his children could be proud of. A husband that his wife would appreciate.
The final cage represents everything I've struggled against since entering the professional wrestling world. From being a curtain jerker to failing to make an impact. I've always been a slayer of bullies Christian. The professional wrestling world is filled with them, including the executives in the front office. As my battles with Austin Starr have shown you, i have always taken on those with corruption in their hearts. He tried the very same thing you've been attempting for months. To bury me. To prevent me from becoming the man that I am. For over one year now I've fought against every corrupt individual here in Thy WWE. I've changed the game and I've set up my own laws. All of this corruption ends at Oppression Christian. I've overcome every obstacle that you've thrown in my path. Every deliberate and calculated attempt at my throne and my championship have all failed. It's time you answer for all of the crimes you've committed against myself, the Knights of the Roundtable and Camelot. My people will no longer have anything to fear from you at the end of the night because your chapter in my story is about to come to a close for one of us. Either Camelot will be left in ruins, or Camelot will continue to prosper into the golden age.
Beno pushes open the large oak doors and bursts into the summer evening. The marshal comes into view bringing forth Benos stead, Shadowfax. Beno takes the reigns from him and strokes the snout of Shadowfax.
When we step into the ring, I am no longer a Knight. All of the codes of Chivelry go out of the window. You will no longer be the General Manager. Only an arrogant bully in a suit. We step into the ring as men Christian. Men that put everything on the line to obtain immortality. I once told you that I am the man. That the championship I proudly wear upon my waist makes me the man. Now it's time you show me why you should be the man. it's time you realize why I am the Thy WWE champion. Only one of us will walk out at Oppression.
Beno mounts his stead Shadowfax and paces the men and women in front of them. Much like himself, they are clad in full battle armor. They carry long swords, broad swords, axes, javelins, spiked balls on chains and round shields with the red dragon crest of the Knights forged upon them. Beno stops to face them. In one swift motion, he unleashes Excalibur and raises it viciously into the air. He lets out a monsterous battle cry.
FOR CAMELOT!!!!!!
Beno galliantly leads the army of Camelot out of the city as the sun begins to set. |
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Post by Christian Knight on May 27, 2013 13:30:20 GMT -5
Grief is a natural response to loss. It’s the emotional suffering you feel when something or someone you love is taken away.
For me Jessica Spring will die over and over again for the rest of my life. Grief is forever. It doesn't go away; it becomes a part of you, step for step, breath for breath. I will never stop grieving Jessica because I will never stop loving her. That's just how it is. Grief and love are conjoined, you don't get one without the other.
In fact I can still remember her soft forest green eyes flickered to mine, a gentle crease forming between her eyebrows. She was curious. I hope my face didn't as readily betray what I felt inside. Hesitantly I forced my lips to curl into a friendly smile, trying to still the frenzy of butterflies that soared in my stomach. The curiosity vanished from her expression, she paused and then the most captivating smile lit up her face. I was never smooth with women; I always felt that I was misunderstood. But my confidence issues were absent my mind, I couldn't focus my thoughts. I'd never felt such an unyielding attraction. In that moment nothing mattered, there was just her and the way I felt.
The memory caused me physical pain. I took a sharp breath and grimaced. It was the first time I'd ever seen Jessica. This thought was on a perpetual loop, incessantly plaguing my moments of contemplation. I thought I'd known heartbreak before, but this was something entirely different. It wasn't just a mood or a fleeting feeling; it was like an infinite cloud, which colored everything around me. It was not something I could logic away, or take my mind off, it was always there. Sometimes the cloud felt more gray than black but that was the only mercy it ever yielded.
No one could understand this cloud I had suspended over me, some people even fell for the facade of normality I projected from beneath it. It had been a year since Jessica left. Those closest to me would remind me of that fact, as if it bore any consequence to my suffering. The passing of time did not dull the flame, if anything I missed her more now. Somehow for some reason circumstance conspired against me. There was no getting her back and the finality of that realization was frightening. The finality of all of it was frightening, those moments of elation and those momentary sparks of love were lost forever. No poetic bullshit, or self help books, or religion, or logic could ever dull the sharp end of that truth. No action could rectify the beauty of that connection. I was aware that nothing lasted forever. But this awareness did not lessen the internal turmoil her leaving brought with it.
I returned to where we had our first date, to the very same Starbucks. Somehow I convinced myself that returning there would not heighten the everlasting pain that tortured my thoughts. But of course, it did. I had a fleeting hope, a wishful desire, a fantasy even. That I would turn and see her, and that gentle crease would form between her eyebrows and that smile would light up her face.
But of course, reality provided no such mercy.
Death was final. No desire could save my Jessica from that. No wish, no hope, no prayer and no amount of time would lessen the mountainous finality of such a heartbreaking truth.
Do you know what it’s like Beno? Do you know what it’s like to have your dreams haunted by the voices of your critics and nay-sayers?
“You don’t deserve to be in the main event of a pay per view”
“Why is it YOU fighting for the World Title”
“You’re a joke, always have been and always will be”
“There are ten other guys who deserve the spot you put yourself in”
I thought assuming the position of General Manager would assuage my burden. I thought that restoring some semblance of lawful order in the locker room would absolve me of my shortcomings not just as a superstar, but in my life in general. I guess I thought that if I cleaned up the mess in the locker room, it would subconsciously clean up the tragic mistakes I’ve made in my own life.
But it didn’t.
I thought defeating Kurt Orton would silence it. I thought decisively defeating Kurt Orton the way I did would lift the burden that weighs on my conscience like an anchor.
But it didn’t.
There’s one thing that will set it straight. One piece of the puzzle that will finally set me free Beno…and it’s around your waist.
And I want it.
I need it.
Why do you ask?
You see Beno, my issue with you was petty to begin with. I was the coach, inheriting a locker room full of narcissistic, deluded, blowhards who felt like they were a lot more talented and entitled to a lot more than they actually were. You stood out the most, took it upon yourself to defy me at every turn, so you had to be made an example of.
But it grew from that Beno, it grew to so much more.
Do you know how important this is to me Beno?
Do you know how much I need this?
I don’t think you do.
You said it yourself on Raw Beno, for you this is simply a title defense. You either win and retain your World Title or you lose and I become the new Thy WWE World Champion. My back is pushed against the literal wall Beno and that is when a man is truly his most dangerous. For me I don’t get the luxury of having a plan A or a plan B, for me it’s not as simple as win or lose.
I have to defeat you Beno.
The story has to end with Christian Knight defeating Beno.
There is no other option.
Failure isn’t an option for me anymore, this is for me, this is for her.
The shortcomings, the failures, they all have to stop now.
Mark my words Beno, when the bells have rung and the both of us have entered the ring, when we come eye to eye, face to face, toe to toe, be ready. Be ready to face a man who shows no fear, who has nothing to lose. Be ready to face the greatest challenge you’ve ever had to encounter and be ready to lose. It won’t be me laying on that canvass lying motionless, it wont’ be me who made any false promises or empty truths. Come this Sunday are you truly ready to loss it all, to have it all taken away from you. Because I’m going to take it all and I’m not just talking about your championship. I’m talking about your pride, your confidence, I will take it all. I hope your ready, because if not you better prepare yourself.
Because I’m willing to go all out, but I don’t think you do. I’m willing to go all the way. Are You? I’m will to take any risk that is necessary, I will go the lengths and go however far that I need to go to get past you; like an obstacle that obstructed in my path. Are You? I willing to do whatever is necessary to get past this step, this goal that I have, to overcome the challenge that you present to me at Oppression. I don’t have any fear, any worries, I’m ready Beno, I’m ready to show you, to show everyone that shouldn’t take me lightly. The world will witness what I’m truly capable of, more so you will witness what I’m truly capable of. This is my turn now.
My turn to prove them all wrong. It won’t matter how much damage you do to me, it doesn’t matter how much you try to batter me down and tear me apart, nothing…NOTHING can change the fact, that you won’t have enough, you won’t have what it takes to win. You can be strong willed, you can be a great challenger, you can be a champion, you can give me your all , your very own heart and soul into the match Come Sunday. You can have perseverance and be dedicated; you can have that hardened will.
But I can’t allow you to be a winner, I just can’t. You can give me everything and not hold back. But in the end the result won’t matter. You can come at me with everything you got, but the conclusion has to be the same.
What’s that Beno? I can almost hear the whispers being heard from the locker room. Perhaps you should try to speak up. Use your man voice. Do you think you can prove me wrong. Do you think you can make me eat my own words. Do you think you can show the world that you’re better then me that you deserve to be the champion. The best that this company has to offer. The clock is on the wall, and the time is ticking away, it’s dwindling away, there is only a small amount of time left Beno, not to much left of it if you as me, because Come Sunday Night at Oppression we will see who’s claim will hold true. We will see whose words were just spoken holds up. Who will be left standing tall with their held up high, who will be leaving Oppression the World Champion. Let’s see how far you truly can go Beno, let’s se what your truly capable of. Because I’m ready. How about you?
I can still remember it as clear as day, or should I say as clear as rain. The last dregs of rain had dissipated, but the harsh gray skies still rumbled. I frown slightly. This doesn’t seem to be a good day. After a moment’s contemplation, the knit between my brows disappears. She always said I looked my best when I smiled.
“Today’s going to be the day,” [/color]I tell myself. The day that I will finally kiss her.
I skip across the parking lot now. My Sneakers squelch with the memory of the drizzle as I step into the Starbucks. Coffee-ground aroma envelops me, and I shiver with warmth. I mill around the logo-laden counter, doing nothing at particular but examine the modern paintings on the walls, which were nothing more than streaks of orange and green paint. I wonder how art critiques judge them to be “works of art”.
The employee tosses me an expectant glance as he fixes a caramel macchiato. Or something. I don’t really know the difference between all the fancy Italian words anyway. I shake my head dismissively and he returns to her work. From the way he took orders and prepared drinks, it seemed as if he did everything smoothly. The kind of smooth guy that she would really be interested in. A guy unlike me.
I ban such self-discouraging thoughts from my head, settling myself behind a table. I quickly revise my seating choice in favor for an armchair, not wanting to impose on the soft clacking of scholarly fingers on laptop keys. “I’m waiting for someone,”[/color] I mutter under my breath, to nobody in particular. Trying to convince myself that I really didn’t show up alone. The faint sound of my voice is buried under layers of the purring of the coffee machine and the oddly tasteful jazz piece that’s emanating from the speakers.
Fifteen minutes pass.
She still hasn’t arrived. The seat next to me is taken by a college student, equally attached to his skateboard sticker-plastered laptop as the other people sitting at the tables. I can faintly hear a heavy metal piece blasting in his headphones. I start shaking my foot in agitation as I watch the time pass by.
Thirty minutes pass.
“I’m waiting for someone,” [/color] I whisper again. I try to call her cell. No answer. The college student stares sympathetically. His hair is a mess, and he looks as though he hasn’t shaven in days. He digs through his canvas bag, procuring a random magazine.
“I’m sorry pal,” He says with sympathy. He chucks the newspaper towards me. I attempt to catch it, and fail horribly. I lean over and picked up the newspaper.
Desperate for some sort of stimulation, I flip through the magazine. Some sort of business jargon about the stock markets. I try to pay attention to the text as the lulling saxophone sucks away my power to keep my eyelids pert. I had spent too much trying get ahead of choirs at my grandparent’s house so I’d be free all day today. So I’d be free to see her. Propping my head upon my elbow, I slowly succumb to over exhaustion.
An hour passes.
I dream that she has arrived. Well, I dream that she was never really late in the first place. Then, the tiles of the Starbucks fall through to an abyss, and I fall in.
I jerk awake, wincing from the slight whiplash in my neck adding more unpleasantness to the stiffness in my arms. Then, an even worse pain overtakes me. A dull, squeezing, aching pain in my gut, as if I were being hit from the inside. The feeling of complete, utter rejection. I knew it was too good to be true. I shrug numbly, blinking away the sudden warmth in my eyes. It wasn’t like I was actually hoping for her to like me, right? But, if I had such low expectations, why was I so… sad?
Recycling the magazine, I amble towards the counter. Might as well buy something before the Starbucks employee clocks out. I pick through the desserts. Moist brownies, angelic cupcakes with the perfect swirls of frosting, compacted with enough sugar to give a health nut an aneurysm. Then, my eyes land on the metal basket of bananas, aged and battered. Although they sit right in front of cash register, they are forgotten. They are unwanted. Like me.
Pitying, I order one, which the Starbucks employee hands it to me free of charge.
“Nobody takes the bananas, even though they’re so much better for you,” [/color] he says. Something told me it was sugar-free. “Thank you,” [/color] I say, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice. I sit back down, and start eating my banana. Maybe I should’ve gotten the brownie.
Suddenly, the glass door swings open, the tiny twin bells tied to the handle ring out in harmony. She saunters in, a gleefully ignorant grin on her face. My heart can’t help but speed up. I swallow the taste of sleepiness from my mouth. Before I can speak, she embraces me tightly, ignoring my messy hair and the faint magazine-print on my cheek.
“I’m sorry. My little sister set all of my clocks weird and hid my phone and computer. She’s bright, a little too bright.”[/color] She laughs. I laugh as well. She stares at me now, eyes sincere and regretful. She caresses my cheek, frowning. “I’m truly sorry if you thought you were forgotten.” [/color] Like always, he doesn’t take me for my word. And she brushes her lips across mine. The first kiss. I deepen it. And after all these years, I can still recall her tasting faintly of fresh mint.
The memories slowly begin to fade away and my eyes are downcast, and I not smiling. “It’s fine.” [/color] I knew it was a dirty trick, making my feelings evident and saying the opposite, but I already felt worse enough. Desolate and deserving, I fought through the bitterness of the morning. The clouds becoming darker, but one thing remained the same; my enduring desires to follow the Path that was set out before me.
I'd been alone for a few years, when you're away from the rest of the world time seems to lose its importance. But I guess enjoy the quiet now. I enjoy the independence and responsibility. I enjoy the freedom of living a life without needing to be shown how. The cool breeze carried itself elegantly between the trees. Leaves were twisting and meandering before hitting the Path before me, slight crunches and snaps resounded from my every step. The atmosphere was so tranquil; the air was so fresh.
I listened intently as the wind seemed to mutter a low chant; carrying the sound of something calling in the distance. I thought back to the book that my grandfather gave me before my departure, a memory flickered as thoughts entered my head. I could still imagine it today. Almost demanding an audience. The words 'The Journey" was neatly inscribed under the illustration of a huge Golden Eagle. If you were to open this book, you would find a small passage etched by my grandfather.
'The Path isn't simply something to follow; the Path is a journey in itself, a life journey. It bares the many mysteries of mankind, and it goes only as long as you need it to. The Path is a route with no direction, a road with no signs - It explores the depths of the world and beyond.'
The flashback faded slowly and I found myself grasping onto a nearby tree trunk, breathing heavily in the calm of the morning. I bravely stepped onward towards my destination, and allowed courage to drive me onwards towards my destination.
Christian Knight enters the empty arena where Oppression will soon be held. He pushes open the double doors and the slam shut behind him making an echo through the building. He makes his way down the long hallway and out towards the empty arena. Scanning the building there are chairs scattered about, some set up, some just folded away or lay strewn on the floor. An Oppression banner hangs over the entrance curtain. And at the center of everything, there is an empty ring to be found.
Christian makes his way towards the empty arena that will soon be filled come Sunday. Come Oppression. He un-shoulders his duffle bag and takes out his tripod and camera and carries it towards the ring. He slides under the ropes with the equipment and sets up the tripod and camera and prepares himself. Christian Knight then turns on the camera. The camera then fades in to Christian Knight who meets the camera’s focus with a slight smile, elbows resting on the knees, wearing typically casual attire, nothing of particular interest.[/i]
‘Look around you…’
Christian Knight raises his arms and looks around the arena, twisting his torso from left to right before looking back at the camera
‘Pretty soon this place will become a living, breathing animal of professional wrestling. When we step into this arena at Oppression. This is the place where scores will get settled. Where Sweat will get released. Where Bodies will get broken. Where Blood will be shed and Tears will be shared. Where Championships will be won and lost. This place will be the place and none of us will ever forget it.
Christian Knight looks down to the ground…
‘All of us will remember it threw out the rest our lifetime and none of us will forget what is about to happen in this very ring.’
Christian Knights gaze returns to the camera…
‘Every single wrestler, manager, fan, announcer, referee, even the guy selling those god-awful hotdogs in the lobby…none of them will ever forget the events that is about to go down here.
Christian Knight then pauses
‘Many thought I’d never set foot here in Thy WWE again after my Loss to Kenneth Walker. That I was done. That I wouldn’t be able to set foot in another wrestling ring again. But here I am. Standing here before you as the big PPV hangs around the corner. Oppression. Oppression will not be about bringing up the past or settling scores. It will not be about revenge or justice. For me, Oppression will be a celebration.’
Christian knight then takes a breath. Christian Knight looks around himself, staring at the ropes, turnbuckles, even down at the mat below him. He is silent for these moments just taking things in.
You know, I've spent most of my adult life in one of these, and shit, the rest of my time has been spent traveling to the next one. This business has pretty much shaped my life, given me family, friends, and enemies.
Christian Knight takes a moment to reflect.
I have basically grown up and learned to be a man in here, from my early days as a brash kid looking to break in, to blossoming into an in-ring specialist, to a promising champion along the way. But that day never did come. Not yet anyways. But that’s about to change.
He then looks around the ring again
The most amazing thing about this business however, is this uncanny way that it keeps calling me back. There is always something else to conquer. Like Beno and the Knights at the Round. Just look at the situation that they have here in the Thy WWE. They have won every title, they have the tag team championship belts, they have World Heavyweight Champion Belt, they have accomplished pretty much all there is here.
Christian Knight now stands and walks toward the camera where he leans over the top rope.
Ah, Absolute Power, Beno, Joey The Bastard, Bret Hart, along with the rest of the knights. I can't tell you how many times I've been asked "how are you going to deal with these Knights?" Well to tell the truth, I underestimated the Knights. I underestimated that they had legitimate toughness to their little click. When they formed the sought out the world, the won all the gold, they were an instant success and then their ego’s started kicking in full throttle and they begin to think that they are somehow in control.
So I got the call from the billionaire Vince McMahon, and if I know anything about billionaires they like to have someone to fight their battles. So I named my price and I became the new General Manager of Thy WWE and now here I am. Cleaning up Vince’s mess. I’m the one who is getting his hands dirty.
Christian Knight adjust a bit
I’ll admit my first tenure here in Thy WWE I lost a quit a lot, I was being shoved aside. All of that happened because I lost what was most precious to me. The women that I loved the most. I lost Jessica Spring. The moment I lost her, I lost my passion for professional wrestling. Nothing could really keep me together at that time, and after Losing to Kenneth Walker in what I thought would be my last match, I had to leave before I just snapped. I left and I got on the first plane out of here. My last thought was how could I lose. What more will it take before I finally snap and break down. Before, I hated my self before going that far down. But now things are different. I’ll rectify that come Oppression when I beat you and obtain the most valued prize here in Thy WWE. I will wipe the slate clean. I will hit the reset button and set a new path for myself.
I've always had a special place in my heart for Thy WWE. It's the first place I got big. The first place I made my break. It brings back a lot of memories, wandering through these illuminated hallways.. Some of these Memories however I don't really want to remember. And when I see the arena, the cameras, the fans, I just...I get that itch, you know? But I can't get nostalgic. I'm here for a purpose. A goal. And I told myself that this time? I'm going to get it right. That this time…this time I’m going to make it.
We are a few short days away from Christian Knight vs. Beno for the World Heavyweight Championship in a Triple Cage match. We will meet right here and find out who is the better man. I’m Sure you will pull out every stop to protect your ego. No expense will be spared. The thing is, it will be all for naught. I’m making my comeback too professional wrestling. I’m quitting all of that other bullshit, making sacrifices. I’m making adjustments. I’m going to put all those questions to rest come Sunday.
In fact come Sunday when you see that Triple Cage slowly descend upon us and it become just you and me. As the time slowly dwindles down you might find it hard to swallow as you try to look away from the deadly threat that lingers inexorably around you, but as your gaze becomes captivated with the horrified fact that it's just you and me, you will find the lump in your throat grew larger and the knot of terror within your chest tightened to an unbearable degree, until you almost think that you can no longer be able to breath. As the monstrosity known as the triple cage encompasses the both of us and you stare into my luminous brown eyes as the colossal piece of metal lowers down. A sudden dawn of realization will come upon you, and that is when that cage lowers it'll just be you and I, Beno.
Come Sunday, know this Beno. You can desperately try to get to your feet, try to push yourself away as you find yourself away only to find yourself laid on your back in horror as I reach for the championship belt. You'll lay their unable to move your limbs, you'll be frozen in place as I make my advance to dethrone you as the champion. When that I begin to unhinge that title, your heart will race and you blood will be pumping intensely through your veins.
As my fingers wrap around your championship, you'll find that your struggles to regain your footing will become meeker and meeker as you can only watch on in fear as you hear my hands take that title off it's hook and raise it up in victory. It'll be that one loss that I give you that will make me Thy WWE Champion. The one that will finally dethrone you. I can't wait to see the shock on your face, when all the dust is settled and the try to cry out but can't because the lump in your throat will make you freeze up and the only thing that can come out is a gurgle. All I can do is just stand back and smile.
Christian Knight reaches out and hits the power button to the camera recorder. He detaches the camera from the tripod and disassembles the tripod and places them back into his duffle bag. He then He shoulders his duffle bag and rolls under the ropes and starts walking back up the ramp, he stops for a second and takes a glance back at the empty arena and turns back around and starts heading back up the ramp and out for the arena and down the long hallway as he exits the vacant arena He heads around towards the parking lot where he parked his car. He continued along the path until he gets to his car. He digs the keys out of his pocket and heads first to back passengers door. Upon opening the back door he places the duffle bag neatly in the back seat and then Christian Knight then closes the passenger. Christian then head around his car and towards the drivers’ side. He reaches out with his hand and unlocks the door and lifts up the handle, opening up the driver’s door to his Mitsubishi.
Christian Knight heaves himself into the driver’s seat of his car and closes the door. He adjusts his side mirrors and his rearview mirror. Christian Knight focuses his attentions to the path that now lay in front of him. He reeves up the gas peddle a few more times letting the engine roar back to life as he tests out the power of his engine. Christian Knight continues to reeve up the engine a few more times again just for safe keeping to ensure that his car has had sufficient enough time to warm up. He then puts the drive stick into the appropriate position and begins to drives his Mitsubishi away from the arena and picks up speed as he accelerated his way down the road. He continues the drive searching for a nearby hotel looking for a place to stay. Remaining focus he finds a Motel 6.
Christian Knight pulls his car up into the parking lot. He put the car in park and turns the key, which kills the ignition. Christian undoes his seatbelt and opens the driver’s door and hops out of his Mitsubishi. Christian knight closes the drivers’ door and locks it and head towards the Self Service Office. Once inside he finds himself in a room with a bell in which he rings. An employee greets a few moments later and him. Christian Knight tells her he want a room for one. The employee rings up a price and Knight hands her his credit card. After swiping the credit card she give him it back and give him a key to Room 201. Knight sends her his thanks and head out of the Service area and starts searching for Room 201. After walking for a few minutes he finds his target. He searches for the stairs and climbs them. Upon getting to the top he walks down the walkway until he gets to room 201 and takes out his key and swipes the key in the slot. It turns green accepting the credentials that allow him to enter the room. Knight opens the door and walks inside. Upon entering he finds a single bed that’s neatly made a television stand with one of those old school television sets on it. He paces himself around the room. Thinking about his upcoming match at Oppression. Thinking about his match with Beno. Thinking about the Triple Cage and the strenuous toll that it might take on him. Thinking about… Thinking about Jessica Again. Always thinking of her. Like it was some kind of curse, that he couldn’t forget her, which he couldn’t move on, or perhaps he didn’t want to.
The memories just didn’t want to wash away. They keep creeping up on him, time after time again. Christian Knight could still remember her. He could still remember on how she would come up and kiss him on his forehead. He began to sway from the dizziness of the memories the flooded his mind. Christian Knight sat down on the bed and he closed his eyes and tried hard to memorize that moment. Christian Knight then began to start thinking out loud
I wanted to remember you exactly as you were right then, how the way your brown hair was cut short in the front, but on how your hair was just long in the back. I always liked that look that you had. I always remember on how you kissed me on the forehead. I’ll remember that particular kiss as it was the last kiss she gave me. Just like that, with the snap of a finger. All that I love, all that I wanted; it was gone.
You were gone.
Just for that moment, the thought that I might never see her again… it felt worse than death. I wished I ran after her. I wish I could still tell her anything. Everything. I wished I wouldn’t have told her to just not go. I would have pleaded for her to stay. Plead for her to just always be near me, so I can at least see her.
Breathing in, I know I am breathing in. Breathing out, I know I am breathing out.
I had the feeling of dread. That the moment I had with you felt final. But I kept my mouth shut because I thought it was nothing. Even though my heart felt this feeling of dread my brain told me that she would just find her way back to me just like she had every other time. It told me just take a look at our history, our house. It told me we were connected and that everything would just be fine. I ignored my heart, even though it tried to tell me this time... that this time, it was final. Like as if I would never see her again. I felt it in my bones. That this time was it. But I made my choice. I just stood there and watched in awe as she kissed me on my forehead and then wished me good-bye. I watched her go as she closed the door for the final time. I listened as she started up her car for the last time. It was everything that I expected to hear and see. What I didn’t expect was for you to be killed by a drunk driver…what I didn’t expect… was to feel so much grief.
“So is that how I’m supposed to live my life.
To feel that no matter how deep and fatal the loss feels, that no matter how important you were to me, you were still stolen from me, just snatched right out of my hands. That no matter how much I try to change the things in my life, I’m still only left with the outer layer of skin that was left from before. Just a former shell of what I once was. That I’m just supposed to continue to play out my life like this way. In silence.
Breathing in, my breath grows deep. Breathing out, my breath goes slowly.
Is that how I’m supposed to feel. That as I draw closer and closer to the end of my allotted span of time, bidding it farewell as it trails off into the diastase, that I just continue the endless deeds of the monotonous daily motions. Am I supposed to just continue on with this immeasurable emptiness. Tell me because I’m lost. I’m clueless Jessica. What am I supposed to do.
Breathing in, I calm my body. Breathing out, I clear my mind.
I say goodbye to Jessica, to her beautiful forest green eyes and her brown eyebrows, her long brown hair front, her slim body. I say goodbye to it all. Jessica Spring, she was the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known. I sat on my Motel 6 bed and stayed with my feelings that I have long bottled up inside of me. I cried hard and loud, and the waves of sadness, regret, of missing a loved one, that had washed over me.
I’m not a loud person, so I was surprised by my sound of my wails. I felt the waves and the water. I was the waves and the water. When I was ready, I got up from the bed and went towards the door and opened it and went outside to walk the way I have learned to. I touched the earth and the cosmos as my body and mind merged through my breath and through my footsteps.
I’m ready. It is time. Time to let go. Time for the here and now.
My breath breathed me and my steps walked me and I was free, even in my sadness. I looked up and saw the fluffy white clouds and smiled to them this was the first time I’ve experienced grief. That I experienced a heavy loss. A loss that took a toll on my human soul. This is the first time I finally let it all out. I didn’t run, I didn’t consume. I didn’t try to numb myself. I just continued to breathe and I went back inside my hotel room and sat back down on my bed in mindfulness. I sat there and felt the rise and fall of the waves of sadness, I felt as they washed over me, or through me, that my suffering was transformed. I felt. I felt free. Free at last.
You see Beno, I lost everything and I’m tired of losing everything that I had. But this Sunday marks the begging to a new life for me. To new era. Beno, Mark my words. I’m done losing the things that are most precious to me. Done losing everything that has any meaning or value in my life and come Sunday I’m done losing period. It’s over.
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