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Post by Vince McMahon on Oct 28, 2016 22:11:21 GMT -5
Match Two: Sasha Banks & Charlotte vs The Wyatts
Handicap Match Survival
RP BELOW
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Post by Jon Moxley / The Wyatt Family on Nov 13, 2016 22:02:35 GMT -5
the beautiful fallen things
"My children will roam the broken Earth, picking up the pieces and rebuilding it in my image!"
Troy stood behind Bray passively, red sheep mask on securely, and looked over the group of men and woman Bray had taken in. The wayward souls who had begged for a new chance. Bray continued to speak, but Troy didn't listen. His mind had long since been lulled into a broken down version of what it once was; be calm to Bray, destroy all others. Be calm to Bray. Destroy all others. His thoughts were cloudy and distracted now, and the only truly clear thing was always Bray's words to him:
"We will destroy those who oppose Abigail's words. And you shall take your rightful place amongst the gods, at my side!"
Troy studied the faces of the men and woman who stood before Bray's platform; they were entranced, eyes on his eyes, ears craving more of his words, minds craving direction.....
"We begin ThyWWE anew! We break their bodies, and we take their souls. And as the Sun is blotted out by Abigail's Curse, we will freely roam the Darkness. Now, who here is ready to take up arms against the machine?"
"I!" The group shouted, and Bray laughed.
"Who here is ready to march upon the bodies of those who oppose Abigail's words?!"
"I!"
"Prepare yourselves for the Apocalypse."
****
Dawson spat a gob of brown spit into his bottle, putting it back into the cupholder and humming along the the country song on the radio.
He was traveling the rural highways of Louisiana, and he couldn't really say he was a huge fan of doing that. It was dark and lonely, so very creepy, and the mist that suddenly appeared didn't help very much. The mist thickened to the point that Dawson had to pull over to the side of the road, to wait for the mist to clear up slightly. With a sigh, he spat into his bottle and resigned himself to waiting.
Almost miraculously, the mist began to fade at a fast rate. As it faded, Dawson could make out a figure standing before his truck.
"What!?" He yelled, leaning forward.
The man was wearing some sort of red mask; plain blue jeans and a wifebeater. His head was tilted to the side.
Dawson looked out of his driver side window, and was startled as he saw a man staring back at him. His door opened, and he was pulled to the side, out of his truck, his body hitting the hard pavement.
"Careful, Luke. Don't kill him." The masked man said to the bearded man who had tossed him out of his truck. The bearded man just grunted in reply, and kicked Dawson in the skull, knocking him unconscious.
Troy shook his head as he lifted the man up in a fireman's carry and tossed him on the opposite side of the road, to be found by some passerby. He and Luke approached the semi trailer, opening it up to find it empty. The man was going back home.
"All good, Bray." Troy said, as Bray approached, an always present smile on his face. He climbed into the trailer, crouched down, and nodded to Troy as the door slid closed.
****
"Why choose Bray?"
The voice shocked Troy so much, he almost slammed on the breaks. Luke had never really talked to him one on one.
"What do you mean?"
"What attracted you to Bray Wyatt's cause?"
"I was broken, directionless. Didn't have much of a choice," Troy said, the fog in his head lifting slightly.
"I was as well. Yet we made the choice to make.... Positive change in our lives. Would you agree?" Troy didn't have to think about the answer.
"Of course." Troy replied, his eyes still steady on the road, lit by the semitruck's bright headlights.
"Tonight is the night they will begin to take us seriously, yes? He promised us."
Troy doesn't reply. Somewhere in his brain, deep in some forgotten corner, hidden in a thick mist, hope burned brightly.
****
Troy drove the semi to a stop in the parking lot, eliciting several odd looks from the crew, yet they kept their distance from the trio. Bray led them through the backstage area, finally coming to a large secluded area. Bray wandered off, Luke walked into some dark corner, and Troy only stood, staring at the red sheep mask. Bray had told him it represented his old face, merely a sheep. Now Troy wore it as a sign of defiance. Now he uses the symbol of his oppression as the symbol of his freedom.
****
"I tried to warn them."
Bray stands before the camera, Troy on his behind him on his left, and Luke on his right. Bray isn't smiling; he looks sad.
"I tried so hard to let them know in the beginning. I used words, yet their ears were not listening. We took their wrestlers, yet their eyes were not seeing. I didn't want to hurt anybody. If you had accepted my words, the assimilation would've been gentle. Painless, even. But YOU REFUSED TO LISTEN TO ME!"
Bray roars into the camera, his eyes burning brightly with rage.
"We have embodied the Apocalypse FOR YOU! We took the burden FOR YOU! And this is how you repay us...." Bray's voice trailed off, tears welling in his eyes.
"Tonight, your insubordination is represented by Sasha Banks and Charlotte. They have allowed their misunderstanding of what we have given to this world to cloud their judgement. Their wayward souls will be taken prisoner by my family, and perhaps after tonight, you will all understand! Understand that I tried to warn you! We tried to help! Abigail's Words are coming true! I could have helped!"
Bray looks upwards to the sky with his teary eyes, and his face splits into a smile.
"I tried to warn them Abigail."
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