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Derek Daniels ©vs Xavier Michaelsvs Hells Guardian; Xtreme Wrestling Championship
Topic Started: Apr 28 2008, 10:21 PM (181 Views)
Yours Truly Lance Mikes
HcW Co-Owner 'Yours Truly' Lance Mikes
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Hells Guardian
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OOC: Sorry 4 Late Post, Boards were down for me last night, posting my roleplay this morning before i leave for work, so im sorry for lack of formatting.

~*Inadequate Preperation...*~

Shane Sanders Music plays over the PA system. She has just made Hell’s Guardian Tap Out. The first time in the big man’s career he has tapped out. Never the less he has given a good account of himself. He gets to his knees, punching the ring as he gets to his feet. Hands on hips, he shakes his head as he steps over the top rope and jumps to the floor. Various swear words escape his lips as he makes his way to the back. Passing through the curtain, he picks up his towel and wanders around, frustration etched all over his face.

Absolutely terrible preparation for the pay per view. He knows it too. Doomsday is offering a great opportunity to him on a silver platter. Not an easy one, but never the less, an opportunity. A defeat though certainly piles the pressure onto his broad shoulders. Dabbing the beads of sweat off his face, he then tosses the towel away, and heads down the maze of corridors and out the exit, the remainder of the show is of no interest to him. Strutting straight to his car, he gets in and starts the ignition. Revving the beast of an engine, he skids away and off into the night. Streets lamps illuminate the road with a blur, as he speeds down the highway. The streets are empty; rarely a car shares the road with him, which is unusual to say the least. The speedometer it reading seventy miles per hour. His mind slowly wanders, thoughts firmly on the title shot he has earned, a chance to get a belt around his waist at long last. A smile appears on the big man’s face. Oh he is not ignorant to the challenge that he faces, but merely looking forward to a fight. A Battle. A War. Armageddon. A Dooms Day. The stakes will be high. And Hell’s Guardian is willing to sacrifice everything to make this chance count. For who knows how long he would have to wait until his next chance comes along. Maybe weeks, even months and even more probable, years.

Every wondered what it would be like to see your name in lights? Flashing high above the grounds on one of those posh neon signs? It certainly would be great. Get gigs for autograph signings? That would be interesting. Guest appearances? Again, that would be interesting. Hell’s Guardian has not done anything like that before. Yes, wearing a title around your waste has its advantages, but the recognition it brings is worth triple more than any autograph signing. Hell’s Guardian aims to bite the hand that has fed him this opportunity. An opportunity indeed, to cement a legacy into the history books of HcW. Really, now that he thinks about it, there is a hell of a lot incentive to walk away victorious!

The traffic lights are red; Hell’s Guardian slows to a stop. An old lady pushing a shopping trolley slowly crosses the road. Hell’s Guardian slowly taps the steering wheel with each of his fingers in turn, impatiently waiting for the lady to cross. Suddenly, the lady stops and stands up straight, whipping off the shaggy jacket that she was wearing. Standing there is the lady that perhaps one could say has haunted Hell’s Guardian for many years, dressed in a black tank top, by now I am sure you know what she looks like. She does not look like a happy individual, her eyes glowing a deep, deep red. Hell’s Guardian stares at her before regaining his composure. He floors the accelerator, and without thinking twice heads straight for her. She forms an evil grin as the impact forces the sound of bones splintering and shattering to fill his ears. He slams on the brakes and with heavy breathing he slowly turns around. The lady is lying on the road. However this does not stop her turning around, the crushed remnants of her skull looking at Hell’s Guardian. She slowly gets back to her feet; blood oozing down her face as the skull slowly stretches out, and reforms, as she slowly regenerates. It only takes a matter of seconds before she is returned back to her full form, in perfect condition. Almost mocking Hell’s Guardian, she slowly adjusts her cleavage, before turning her attention back to him. Her eyes no longer glowing, she taunts him by giving the old classic hand gesture, which refers to him being a ‘wanker’.

Hell’s Guardian is taken by surprise by this. Not surprisingly really. He just shakes his head and floors it, heading as far away from the lady as possible. He breathes heavily, with nerves. He controls his car with one hand while using the other he holds his face in disbelief. What had just happened? Had he imagined it? No one would surely get up from that. His car speeds down onto a highway, totally oblivious, lost in his own thoughts, but he is sharply brought back to reality, as his driver’s side window is destroyed with a mighty crash, and peering in through the window is the lady!

“Let me see your driver’s licence!” She smirks as she mocks Hell’s Guardian.

She then floats right through the door and through the seat, and now she occupies the passenger seat, her ethereal movements has shocked the big man, and he momentarily loses control of the car. He narrowly avoids the concrete barrier at the side of the highway. While this is happening the lady whispers right into his ear, in a soft, chilling voice.

“You cannot escape me, I suggest you pull over before you cause yourself some serious damage.”

Before Hell’s Guardian gets the chance to react, he notices the flashing lights of a patrol car in his rear view mirror, and the sound of a siren echoing in the night sky. Hell’s Guardian slowly pulls over to the side of the highway. The Highway Patrol Officer walks slowly over to the vehicle. He peers in through the broken driver’s window. He notices that this window is indeed smashed, rather than wound down.

“Is this your car sir?” He asks.

“Yes it is, what seems to be the problem officer?”

“Just a routine stop, travelling alone tonight?”

“Obviously not, she is with sitting there is she not?”

The officer peers past Hell’s Guardian, for a moment or two, before turning back to Hell’s Guardian. He does not look happy.

“I strongly suggest you take this seriously sir. Are you travelling alone tonight?”
“No officer, she is with me.”

Hell’s Guardian turns to the passenger seat, which of course, she girl smiles at him, and very tauntingly, she blows Hell’s Guardian a kiss. He turns back to the officer.

“Have we been drinking sir?” The officer asks.

“No, why?”

“Kindly step out of the vehicle”

The officer moves out o the way, as Hell’s Guardian slowly opens his door, and steps out side of the vehicle. The girl has already made her way round to the officer, smiling a sinister grin, before standing to the side of the officer, she glances at Hell’s Guardian, smiling, before motioning for him to be silent.

“Sir I hear by ask you to participate in a test to see if you are driving under the....”
He doesn’t finish his sentence, as the girl grabs him around the throat, lifting him into the air, and with ease, snaps the officer’s neck like a twig. He drops to the floor, motionless, lifeless, his eyes staring into the distance, no longer moving.
She dusts her hands off, before punching Hell’s Guardian in the face, and the world turns black.

~*Stone Investigates...*~

Detective Stone scratches his head in disbelief. No evidence, no clues, no forensics, surely this could not be the perfect double murder? The death of those two teenagers is playing on his mind. Looks like the case could very well be closed soon, what was he going to tell the parents of these individuals? How the police department has failed them in their time of need? He really does not want to do that, but with very little to go on, there is not much can he do. He closes the file and tosses is onto his cluttered desk. He lounges deep into his leather office seat, cursing the fact he has let it get into such a tip. He reaches into his gun holster on the inside of his jacket, inside of his holster is not a gun, that is on his desk, but instead there is a box full of cigars, and using his lips he pulls one out, bites off the end, and sparks up. Nothing like a cigar to lighten the mood. He slowly begins to dose off in his chair, it is after all, well past his shift, and it is late. He barely notices the stampede of officers flying past his office door, and the commotion eventually gets his attention. He grumbles as he stretches, he gets up and sticks his head out the office door. His comrades are quite clearly agitated.

“OI! Jack! What is going on around here?!”

One of the officers turns around.

“One of ours has been killed Stone.”

Needing no more information, Detective Stone steps over to the group. The Captain is slowly getting control of this horde, and calms them down; in his hand is a video tape.

“This is a video recording from Officer Sanchez’s car. We are hoping it has captured the incident on tape, and possibly the culprit. Keep your fingers and toes crossed guys.”

He inserts the tape into a video player and presses play. The officers slowly begin to cipher their way through the footage from the camera on the dash board of the patrol car. After a few minutes of irrelevant footage is played, they finally get to what they have all been wanting to see. We see what we know is Hell’s Guardian’s car at the side of the road, and the officer pulls over to the side where the car is parked. The officer radios his dispatch to let them know what he is doing, and he gets out and walks along side the vehicle. A conversation begins, where the driver of the suspect vehicle is clearly mocking the officer, and the man is eventually asked to get out of the car to be tested for alcohol. The suspect gets out of the car, and totally unprovoked, grabs the officer around the throat ad lifts him into the air, we even hear the neck snap, before the officer is dropped to the floor. The suspect is a little fuzzy, but we can tell it is a big man. For some reason, the footage is not of the best of quality, and the licence plates cannot be read. There is an uproar as the officers are quite clearly letting their emotions get the best of them. The captain, once again calms them down and begins issuing orders. Detective Stone slowly walks away towards his office, with a new case to ponder, once again his mind feels the need to be exercised, with a good puzzle to ponder.

~*Lessons To Be Learnt...*~

His head hurts. His brain felt like it was trying to escape its prison, which would be his skull, and was pounding against it with all its might. His eyes slowly try to focus, but sadly his location offers little reassurances as there is no light coming from anywhere, so he could barely make out any of his surroundings. He tries to touch his head, and he becomes quickly aware of the shackles that bind him against a wall, at arms length. He tries to kick his feet, and also notices the fact that they are not touching the floor. His head is screaming in pain, and is proving to be difficult to utilise his brain as he hangs there, attached to either a wall or ceiling he cannot see. Not the best of environments to be in. His senses are all activated at once when the room is flooded with light. The lady had just flicked the light switch, the room itself was old and tatty, very basic, consisting of brick walls, a table in the centre of the room and the exit. Although his attention is most definitely on the table in the centre of the room, mainly because of the objects that litter it. Scalpels, pokers, sheers and many types of blades reflect the light.

“So you are awake Gabriel. Good. I must stress my disappointment at your performance last week. You had an opportunity to challenge for the Pure Wrestling Championship. You failed. There are no excuses, lying down on the job, is lying down on the job. An opportunity was presented to you, and you should of took it with both hands, yet you failed. Failure is not an option. Thus, you need to be punished.”

She slowly leans forward and grasps a poker, and drags it over to a forge that is in the corner of the room. The poker slowly begins to heat. She waits patiently. Hell’s Guardian struggles with his bindings. She pays no attention., continuing to focus on the poker, which by now is glowing hot, to which she smiles and pulls it from the hot embers and slowly advances towards Hell’s Guardian. The resulting screams echo around the room, as the flesh of Hell’s Guardian is burned, slowly sticking to the end of the red hot poker as it shrivels. Hell’s eyes slowly roll into the back of his head, to which the girl moves the poker away. The damage done, displayed with a large burn across the chest of Hell’s Guardian.

“This is hurting me as much as it is hurting you. You tried to run from me this evening, I hope you have learned that there is no escaping your own shadow. For I, I am everywhere. You need to quickly learn that your failures offer no rewards to that of success. The sooner you learn this, the sooner your pain and suffering will end. You now have a permanent reminder of tonight’s lesson, I hope there are no more lessons to be taught to you after tonight. I hope not. For our sake. It is time you started to live up to your end of the bargain. I gave you a gift last week, and this is how you repay me? My patience is very thin. You have so much potential Gabriel, it is time for you to begin fulfilling it. No more wasting away in the shallow end of the dream pool, it is time for you to be the shark that runs the deep seas of success. There are many who occupy the light of stardom at the minute, who are easily replaced by new blood. It is time you became part of the big picture, and if you are not part of the big picture, you become expendable. Remember that, Gabriel, you will be wise to. I hope this will be the last time my classes are occupied by you Gabriel. Until we meet again...”

He sat up, beads of sweat pouring down his brow. The bed covers drenched, the sounds of the city rushing by outside his hotel window. A dream. It was only a dream. He sat there for a few seconds. A dream yes, but by god an interesting one. He has once more gained an opportunity to wear a belt around his waste, he will make sure both his opponents are tested to the extreme. He lies back down, slowly going back to sleep, but if he had been more thorough, he would of notices the big scar down is chest....
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Xavier Michaels
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I apologize in advance for the crappiness. rushed it in like two hours.

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