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| Topic Started: Dec 2 2009, 12:19 AM (335 Views) | |
| xShanex | Dec 2 2009, 12:19 AM Post #1 |
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Stay Down
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"They say the first step of rehabilitation is admitting the problem to the world, and your god or gods. It's the most important step on the road to recovery, and it may be the most difficult for a man to do. The pride of the human race is sometimes too unbareable to stand. Now, I never thought I'd ever have to say this....." We come to see the city streets of Dallas, Texas. A mass of human life crowded the sidewalks, some moving through the twisted mess of concrete and steel we call a city to get to their pointless, boring, irritating jobs. Some on their way to meet with friends, maybe put a few back, maybe watch the game, who knows? Some, however, were just on these crowded streets to feel alive, and that is where the story begins. Among the crowd walked a figure in a black hoody. With close attention, the letters "D.E.A.D." could be made out in gold lettering, the font of the text a very gothic-style print. This man's slick black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, a blank black baseball cap place over his head. As he walked, he placed his hands in his pockets, the word "Anti-Drug" on his knuckles being cloaked to the world. This man was identified as CZW's newest competitor, "The Straight Edge Curse" Ryan Shane. As he made his way through the flood of flesh and bone, his voice sounded out over the many unified noises of a busy city. "...but my name is Ryan Shane, and I'm an addict. My addiction, well, it's blood. Yes, exactly what I said. Since I was so young, that crimson life force that runs through my veins, and yours, has been my form of obsession. Whenever I was out there in the real world, tyring to make it out of that day alive, the sight of blood ws a signal to me. It told me when the fight I happened to be in that day was over, and I had won or lost. It told me when the music was playing at the concerts I went too, because unless you're injured, you don't appreciate the magic that is music, but most important of all, it tells me I'm alive. Whenever I bleed, I know that I'm still able to make a difference in this world. I know that I can send my message of a clean and sober lifestyle to the world, and try to bring it back to what it used to be. Bloodshed is a blessing in disguise, and it will remain hidden until you learn how to accept that." The mob that moved with Ryan came to a halt, as the light infront of them ordered these simple-minded humans to cease, "DON'T WALK" burning into their eyes in bright orange. Ryan stood, unmoving in the center of this living machine, his mind focused more on his story than anything else. "It reflects whenever I step foot into the ring. Whether I win, lose, or draw, one thing is always pre-determined, there will be pain, there will be war, and there will be blood. Now, this ties in well this week. Probably some form of way to show the new guy that he's nothing in this business, the CZW officials have foolishly placed me in my favorite match, the First Blood. Oh, how I love the First Blood match. I love the warm feeling of my opponent's plasma dripping down over my hands. I love the cringing looks I get from my victims....I mean opponents when I rip and tear and slash and bite and claw at their flesh. I find comfort in the screams of the impure as I let their poisoned blood splatter on the mat. It's my playground." The light changed, and Ryan, along with the rest of his company, continued on their way. A few cars shot by, blowing wind through the hair of anyone near by. As the group continued on, Ryan stopped, and removed himself from the men and women. His focus was now placed off-screen, but something had caught his attention, and it held his mind like the horns of the bull. "Now at Overdrive, I have the chance to do what I do best, and make an impact at the same time. I can make an example out of one of CZW's largest warriors, cementing my dominance in this company, and placing my name on the list of names to defeat in Combat Zone Wrestling. I can take my hands, which have claime dso many a victim before, and run them through the body of a champion. They say heavy lays the head which bares the crown, but it is impossible to hold up a crown when your head is removed from your shoulders. Yes, this match will be the ultimate proving ground for me. It will be the moment where I decide to be either a no-named lacky in this business, or do what I've made a name for myself doing, and spill the blood of both men who stand in my way, sealing the deal, and becomming a top name in little to no time. Yeah, Ryan Shane, CZW "insert championship here" champion. I like that" The camera slowly moved in an arch, finally ending behind Ryan. In the distance, the massive building that is the American Airlines Center stood, watching Ryan's every move like some form of god. "Time to make my mark. There will be blood, I swear it." With that, the camera faded to black, yet the screen remaind powered, signalling the crowd that another video was about to be played. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Around the world, fans paid close attention to their televisions, computer screens, and any other monitors they had at their disposal, trying to catch any glimpse of their favorite CZW wrestlers. When a video begins to play, thoughts race through their heads. Who's going to speak next? What will it be on? What can we expect? These questions and more were answered within seconds, as an image quickly took the screen. ![]() The three blood stained X's gave away the owner of this video's indentity in a heartbeat. There was only one man who was willing to wage the war which was stated in the logo. As excitment built in the chests of the fans viewing the segements for the upcoming CZW event, the camera's feed seemed to be cut, as it shot to static. This was a definate give away. The static, like always, had been a calling card of "The Straight Edge Curse" Ryan Shane, and this was no different. The static left the screen slowly, like water flowing off of a piece of glass. The scene now set was one more fitting to the man behind it. The sky was black, as night had fallen on the city. The sound of faint car horns could be heard through the trees surrounding the area. Among the noises of the night, such as crickets and nocturnal creatures, a loud creeking sound screeched into the ears of all who could hear it. It seemed to get closer, then in the same speed, move away, and then back again. The camera, trying to use the light of the single path light that was placed on the sidewalk leading through this space, now made out as a public park, panned left. After making about a one-eighty degree turn, the camera had found it's target. Now being recorded was an innocent sight, but in this time of day, when all form of life was absent, it became a scene of loneliness and depression. It was a playground, no different from the ones in your youth. there was a jungle gym made up of steel, lightly coated in a layer of red rubber to avoide lawsuits to the city. There was a slide, also made of steel, but crooked from the amount of use it had suffered over the years. The source of the creeking was then identified, as our "star" of this piece had been located. Ryan Shane sat on the middle of a three piece swing set. The swings all had black seats, except for the last which had broken off. Typical public park. The screech came from the rubbing of the steel as the swing Ryan sat on rocked back and forth like a pendulum. Ryan's hands wrapped around the chains, as he looked down at the mess of wood chips that littered the ground at his feet. Ryan wore a black t-shirt. On the front, the words "Freak of Nature" were placed in grungy letters in white, three X's behind them. On the back, the words "Fight for a Change" were placed in the same writting. Ryan's lower body was covered by a pair of white, basketball-style shorts. The bottom and sides of the shorts were black margins. On the black lines going up the sides of the shorts, three bold, white X's were placed in a column. Ryan's hands were wrapped in white wrist tape, black X's placed on the back of each hand. Ryan's haird fell over his face, as he calmly swung back and forth, back and forth. After what seemed an eternity of waiiting, Ryan's head began to rise, as he looked into the camera diagnally from him. His hair parted on it's own, some strands staying in his face, but he didn't seem to care. Ryan looked around the playground, readying himself for his speech. "Do you remember your childhood? Do you remember when you went to the park with your family? It was a joyous time, right? You were so young, maybe five or six, and you didn't havea care in the world. It was just you and the playground, no matter who else was there. Now, did you experience the harsh cruelty of life for the first time at the park? When all seemed perfect.....he showed up. The playground bully. Now, he was twice your size. A real asshole for someone just a year or two your senior, and did he have a grudge with the world. I guess no amount of love and attention that this spoiled bastard got would satisfy him , and he had to take it out on those smaller than him. Do you remember the torment? The sand kicked in your face? The puches to the shulder and ribs? Maybe you got some of those interesting bully techniques that take practice to do, like lthos indian sunburns, I believe that's what they call them here. It was horrible, and your feared every second of the playground. Your safe haven becomming your own personal hell, that is, until you had that talk. You know, the bullies are just fearful of you talk? Not many take that conversation to heart." Ryan continued to swing, now simply pushing with his feet still making contact with the ground below. He tapped his fingers on the chain as he gave a sigh. "I did. I was a few inches shorter than this kid, name was Jean-Paul I believe? Whatever, he was some big kid from Quebec. They just moved to the Falls and he decided that the best way to make friends was to attack us. He ruined my favorite blue t-shirt. He broke my toys, all the good stuff. It was terrible, and to top it off, no one did a thing. The thought of becomming his own personal bitch too much for us to handle, but reality sunk in. My sister tried to tell the folks but, let's face it, they were in no way,shape, or form able to o anything for us, let alone themselves. Something needed to be done, so I stepped up. As a champion for the people as I am now, I looked that french bastard right in the eyes, before I shoved my right fist down his throat. Long story short, Jean-Paul never bugged us again." Ryan stopped swinging, allowing the natural force of gravity to end his ride. After pulling himself up to his feet, ryan began to walk over the woodchips toward the jungle gym. "Fast forward a few years. Let's stop at my teen years. It's about a year or so before my parents....well, you know. I find myself in yet another playground, but this one a little different from the others. Some call it a Mosh Pit, I call it home. That's where I learned this lifestyle. That's where I first dawned the X on my hand and took my oath. Now, for those who don't know, allow me to fill you in. The Mosh Pit is the section right infront of the stage at concerts where all of those people are standing. You've probably seen them, but not in the way I have. You see those rap and r&b shows and think those are pits. Not even close. Essentially, Metal and Punk music is played by the band onstage as you and everyone around you kick the shit out of each other. It's quite fun if you're good at it. I wasn't always good at it. I remember my first pit I went to. Lucky me, a few of my "buddies" from high school were there. By "buddies", I mean these guys hated my guts. I guess it was my charm and boyish good looks that got these guys to hate me, or maybe it was because these guys were total druggies, and I called them out on it infront of their "crew"? Either way, this wasn't going to end well. They....kicked...my...ass." Ryan laughed a few times, recalling the great "fun" he used to have as a young man. What was more entertaining than three monsterous guys hammering you while one of your favorite local bands was playing? The answer was nothing. "I didn't have much to say about those good looks for a few weeks. It wasn't pretty, but it did do me a favor. I remember it clear as day, standing infront of my mirror, looking myself in those bruised and swollen eyes. I remember the trickle of blood that hit my tongue. It was such a new sensation. The taste of iron took my mouth by storm, and the salty aftertaste of it tickling the tastebuds. It was my wake up call,. What a disgrace I was, sitting there quivering like a fearful child, wondering if I should try to fight back. There was no option, and it became clear to me then. It was fight or die, no matter how many of them I had to face. Soon another concert began, and I walked in there, ready to draw blood.......... Ryan chuckled as he shook his head, his eyes locked onto the ground as he found something amusing out of the next chapter in his life. "...and I got my ass handed to me again. Just throwing punches didn't really seem to do anything. Ya gotta love that hospital service. I was there for a few days. Being is pain sucks when you refuse pain medication, but hey, what are ya going to do, right? Well, while I sat there in my nice little bed, trying to think about what I had to do to fight these three guys, and then I got what some would call a sign, I call it a dumb coincidence. One of those martial arts movies. Real bad quality, but then it hit me. That's what I needed to become." Ryan gripped one of the bars of the jungle gym with his right hand, turning away from the camera. He placed his feet on the steel, climbing to the very top of it. He looked out over the playground, all covered in the cloak of darkness. He viewed his land, this was his kingdom for the moment, and he ruled with an iron fist. "I worked my ass off to get enough money. I traveled for hours to get to the various dojos where, week in and week out, I trained. Muay Thai kick boxing, Sambo strong style, Kenpo Karate, the list goes on. Years of my life, when I wasn't in school, when I wasn't working to supply for myself, I was training. My various sensei keeping me under their wings. I slowly became a machine. A living, breathing weapon. That day came, finally, that day came, and my hard work was going to pay off. It wasn't in the pits, though, on no, it was much more personal. I was over my girlfriend's house at the time, and they tracked me down. They harassed her, threatened her parents, and called me out. I wasn't going to sit there and take that. I live for challenges, and this was no different. That night was the turning point in my life. I left those clowns in a pool right on the front lawn. I did it without breaking my code of honor, as they struck first, but if you know me, I don't start things, but I sure the hell finish them." Ryan rocked back and forth on the steel pole that he sat upon at the top of the rubber-coated cage they called a play thing. He patted the jungle gym, making a quick beat before starting up again. "Let's skip ahead to modern day. Let's skip into the future, actually. I find myself in yet another predicament. I'm going to walk into the ring on the next episode of CZW Overdrive to face down literally the biggest man I've ever fought, and a man who would seem to be my brother in arms. McNally, a monster of a man, and yes, he is one tough son of a bitch. He towers above me, and could probably kick my head off when he gets a chance, but that's a big if, no pun intended. I'm not going to just stand there and let you run me over with that Bicycle Kick. I'm not going to let you get me in the Second City Sinner. Hehehe, funny how that works. The sinner of the match against two men who have dedicated their lives to a lifestyle that quite simply places us ontop of this world, or so I think. Brian Kirkland, "The Reaper". A Straight Edge brother of mine in this, a Combat Zone. Always better to have one of your own in a time of war, but I know that will not be the case. Brian, I see you're perspective son life, but unlike you, I've studied my opponents. I see through your eyes, and I know your past. We're more alike than you think. Both of our families were destroyed by undeserving circumstances. We've both had to watch our siblings fade away. Brian, I am you. We're formed from the same mold, but I'm questioning your dedication to the Straight Edge movement. your ability to lead this revolution. you see, guys, they don't call me the Renegade or Nothern Wolf for Nothing. I'm like that caged animal you used to watch at the zoo. The ones they told you never to feed. You know why, because if they pierced your skin, and tasted your blood, they'd crave more. Guess what boys? I got my first taste last week, and I want more! More! MORE!" Ryan's emphasis on the word "MORE" caught many members of the viewing audience off-gaurd. this sudden outburst of rage and energy seemed to literally come from no where. Ryan's eyes now locked onto the camera, as he motioned with his hand to the cameraman to zoom in. "I want you to look in my eyes when I say this! I had nothing to fight for back in the pit, but I do now! I didn't matter back in the day, I was just some snot-nosed punk, but right now I've become so much more! I'm a guiding light to the lost! I'm an elite among commoners! I sit here as the Survivor of this Failing Breed, and the cure to the disease we call humanity! The odds are stacked against me, but no matter what, be it two on one, three on one, or even six, I will not die! I will not surrender, but I'm not walking into that ring alone! I'm walking into the ring with an army! Every single time I walk out to that ring, and I throw up an X, I look out and see those just like me! Those who're there to represent a lifestyle they've chosen because it's better for them! Those are my soldiers, and they're all ready to go to war for their beliefs, just like I am, and you both know now why you don't have a chance in hell! My name is Ryan Shane! I'm drug free! I'm alcohol free! I'm LOSS free! I'm Straight Edge!!!!" Ryan's hate-filled eyes were now accompanied by his rising arms. They formed an X, his arms shaking from the sheer force of the grip Ryan held on his fists. With one last deep breath, Ryan let all control go. ".......and I'm better than you!" With those last words, the camera remaind still, catching the determined stare of Ryan Shane for a few seconds, before cutting to static. As the static began to fade to black, one thing was certain. Ryan Shane, whether he won this First Blood match or not, was going to make his mark in CZW. Edited by xShanex, Dec 2 2009, 12:22 AM.
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