EST. AUGUST 2016 - TOKYO, JAPAN
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| An introduction; Poor camera-man | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 11 2018, 06:10 PM (22 Views) | |
| Regal | May 11 2018, 06:10 PM Post #1 |
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Black and white footage of a murder of crows flew across the screen, leaving a dying forest behind them. The footage slowly faded into nothing but black, and a simple word appeared on screen: ONE. As the black faded away, we see the colourful visage of an elaborate brick mansion with marble pillars. The grey sky over Toronto masked the sun. Small cracks let beams of light through and lead to an array of sunbeams shining down onto a beautiful private area outside of the city. As the camera pans down it reveals a brick mansion. A massive black metal fence blocks off the yard from the rest of the world as the grass looks freshly cut. The camera walks forward and the gates open slowly, creaking the entire way and revealing Marcus LeVine sitting on a small brick staircase. White columns sprout up from either side of him and held up a roof that holds a beautiful design of two falcons in the moments before a fight between the two. A garden surrounded it on both sides, and an array of expensive cars sat out front, presumably more found inside the garage. Marcus sits in a full black suit. Black undershirt, black vest, black jacket, black tie, and a black rose in the chest pocket. He looks up into the sky, talking. His words were seemingly aimless as he looked around, avoiding eye contact with the camera lens. ~Marcus LeVine~ "I guess my introduction to Death Trip Wrestling isn't necessarily as grand as you all want. What is it that you all want. You "fans". You people who encourage us to kill ourselves on a weekly basis all in the hopes of gaining your admiration. Well... I guess that's just it isn't it. I don't want your admiration. I want to end your existence. I want to free you all from the suffering of freedom. You people have for so long fought to be considered unique, to be considered individuals. When the undeniable truth of the matter is that none of you people are interesting, or original, or unique. All of you are simply identical gears running this machine of society. You dye your hair, you scream that you're different, you're special, but you're just a pawn. I am here to help. I've already begun to help. Just inside, I have 4 beautiful souls that I am going to free from the shackles of medial existence. What is a monster? A monster isn't some massive beast with snarling teeth. No. A monster is a man who has made a name out of breaking bones. A man who doesn't hide in the shadows but looks you dead in the eye and tells you exactly what's going to happen to you. Then, that man will do, EXACTLY what he told you. My guests. I've told them exactly what I'm going to do. Just for you all though, just for you SPECIAL people. I'm going to tell them all over again. I'm going to tell them what to expect from me." With that Marcus stood up, and beckoned the cameraman to follow him inside of his home. We were taken into a decaying abode, with tearing wallpaper, chipping paint, busted stairs, and worst of all, the blood. Everywhere. Marcus was in full view, swaying, dancing to the sounds of muffled screams and looking content with the scenery he had created in his home. We can here a particularly wicked cackle from The Monster, and as he turns back to face the camera, his eyes seem to dance like fire. The colour of them has become a glowing red, and the whites becoming, well, quite the opposite. An abysmal black void only cut off by the red iris. As he turned his back, he began to sing to himself. "Mama, We're all full of lies Mama, We're meant for the flies And right now They're building a coffin your size. Mama, we're all full of lies." Marcus continues to walk, leading the camera to a bloody hallway. The walls falling to pieces around them as busted and poorly hanging photos and paintings array the walls. Each one getting more gruesome than the one before it as they depict more and more bloody and barbaric scenes. Marcus looks back to the camera with a smile as he invites the cameraman to join him for dinner and a drink, after the "ceremony". As the camera continues to follow LeVine further and further into the cavernous hall, we begin hearing organ music playing softly. With every step forward the music grows louder and louder. The lights of the hallway also begin to fade, slowly being replaced by candles. At the end of it, all is a large and immaculate set of doors. Pure black in colour, with two golden demon knockers in the centre of either one. Marcus simply places his hands in the centre of the two doors, and they begin to pull apart in synch with one another. Inside was a cathedral to rival the Notre Dame itself. The imagery in that cathedral was quite antithetical to the Notre Dame, however. Coloured glass within the windows told the story of a great and valiant morning star, slaughtering the weak-willed of earth, and leading the strong to prosper. Inside the room were dozens upon dozens of figures, all standing in all-white suits, each and everyone wearing a twisted and stitched together melted image of the iconic yellow smiley. Simultaneously, every masked expression turned towards LeVine, a god amongst them. He began to speak... he began to Preach as he continued walking. "Look at these souls. All of these formerly lost sheep, come to my pasture. Come to my guidance. This is what I offer to DTW. This is what I offer to the world. Imagine, a world of unity, of peace. There is no war, no conflict, no needs, and all because the useless and detrimental thoughts of freedom have been stripped away from the lost ones." When Marcus reached the centre of the room, he rose one arm high and snapped his fingers. The camera was violently ripped away from the man formerly holding it, and as the camera spun to look at the man, he had been brought to his knees by three of the faceless figures. We don't have to imagine what's going to happen, as Marcus walks back into frame with a small switchblade in his hand. He kneels down next to the man and pulls his head up by his hair to look directly into the camera, holding the blade up to his neck. "I want you all to see what I have to give this world. Soon, at Tokyo Gore Noir, it'll be against Vandal. That is just a taster. I will give you fools NOTHING that you want. You savages want blood. I will give you none. Vandal will tap, or he will snap. I can promise you however that an athlete, no, a GOD like me, does not need a weapon to destroy such a weak soul. He is simply a stepping stone used to announce my presence. He is nothing to me except an example. Just like this worthless sheep in my hands, desperate for someone to lead him. Vandal. I hope you are watching this, I hope you are prepared for the monster you are fighting. The monster who is going to drag you across that ring, break your body into pieces, and have you screaming for mercy as you slap that canvas. THAT is a monster. YOU are a joke. I am a god." The footage cut, but not soon enough to stop the camera picking up the blood-curdling scream of the camera as the blade dug into his skin. |
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