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On your own? Who's the Ghost Writer? Huh, Your a Puppet being feed words. My fucking head hurts. He leans his head in his hands, pushing his hair backwards. He takes another sip of water and then speaks again. You know, you would think my head would hurt because of the load of bullshit I listen to day in and day out. The bullshit that flies out of Brenton‘s mouth. The kid used my son to defeat me, with out Alex he had nothing, no edge, nothing! And the whole I AM GOD act? Did it back in 2001. There are rumors about a possible showdown in the near future, but I can tell you now Brenton won’t take it. He has nothing over my head. Nothing to save them. Huh I set here with this headache that seems to be kicking my ass and I am left pondering, why is it that my head hurts? You'd think it would hurt because I went out last night. You might even think that it's because of the Punt kick I received a few weeks ago. And you'd be right. All of those things hurt. All of those things caused me great pain. All of those things contributed to the throbbing feeling in my head right now. But they're not the main reason… The main reason is the bottle. The dammed bottle. Because you see, after I went to a bar last night. Not a big bar. Not one of those trendy bars. Not a place where gleamed up people try and score a fuck for the night. No, I went to a bar. A small, dark, dingy, bar. Why? It doesn't seem like a place someone of my stature would be, does it? And yet there I was. Drinking my brains out. I'm not even sure what brought me there or why, I just know that by midnight I was halfway through my third beer. Johnny pauses and he takes a sip of the water beside him. He then sighs and continues speaking. You know, they say last call is at 2am, but there's nothing to stop you from ordering six bars and four shots at 1:58. Yeah, this wasn't exactly a reputable place. "Sir, I'm gonna have to cut you off, you've had too many" isn't in their vocabulary. Nope. You start up a tab and they let you drink as much as you want as long as your credit card still goes through. And so I drank. And drank. And drank. Why? Probably because of the pain I was in. Probably because I wanted to take my mind off of the suffering I had endured in that ring. And probably because it calmed me down. But there is nothing taking that edge off. Nothing allowing me to forget the pain. At least until King Of DX, opened his mouth. Now the only thing on my mind is Legacy. Johnny closes his eyes. He then looks up with a sick smile on his face and he continues to speak. Legacy is now only days away. Sure you’ll cut, print, re air a promo day after day, trying to get the last words in. But like I said KOD…This isn’t WWKF. I could give a fuck what you have done in a federation that a paraplegic could become champion! This is the NLWF. Nothing you have done in WWKF well save your ass when you step into the ring against me. Were two days before that bell is rung. Two days before I am given the authority to do whatever I want to that man, with whatever weapon I choose to use. And King of Dx, I'm sure you'll get your shots in. I'm sure you'll make me bleed, make me suffer, make me ache. But that's nothing compared to what I am going to do to you. Because KOD, I am ready. Ever since I have been in this business it was all about asthetics. It was all about looking great, putting on a show, high-flying, entertaining the fans. It was all about using that ring as my stage. Well, on Sunday, I am going to use that ring as my canvas. And I will paint the building red with your blood. Because I learned something these past weeks. I learned something in the mist of the bullshit of Salvation. I learned that pain can be beautiful. I learned that suffering can be beautiful. I was no longer concerned with being "high class" or "looking great." No. Now I know that true beauty comes from inflicting pain upon another human being. And who would I rather inflict pain on than you King? The two of us will step into that ring King and we will beat the living hell out of one another. And that the end of it all. When our battered and bloody carcasses are dragged from that ring our feud will be done. Because I will have destroyed you King of DX, I well have sent you packing back to WWKF a broken man. I will not rest, I will not fall until you have been beaten close to death. And then, and only then, will my life be complete. You see, we have become each other's obsessions. Two careers seemingly at a standstill. Circling each other. Around and around. You want to become the next Brenton Cyrus, And I want to silence all the talking. We're stuck KOD, both of us. And the only way to free ourselves from this situation is inside that ring. One-on-one. Johnny leans backwards, laying down on the bed. He breathes deeply and then continues to speak. And so last night I went drinking. Last night I poured back beer after beer, shot after shot. It all became a beautiful blur to me. The bar, the bar tender, the old man in the seat next to me, the group of co-workers at the end of the bar, the jukebox playing 70s rock over and over, the neon lights in front of me. It all became a blur. Swirling and spinning wildly out of control. One more glass. One more shot. One more bottle. It feels like I sat there for days, but it was only a couple of hours. Why? It felt good. It felt good to lose control. It felt good to ignore the world, to ignore the rules, to ignore society, and drown out my anger with alcohol. By the time I stumbled out to a cab it felt like I had been hit by one. At that point I really wished that I hadn't sent my driver home. But this was something I needed to do on my own. This was something that only I could do. So I crawled out of that cab at around 4:30 in the morning and I stumbled up to my room. And then I puked. And I puked again. The pain was almost unbearable. Spinning around and around. Nothing mattered now. Nothing but myself and that porcelain bowl in front of me. I don't even know when I went to bed. And it doesn't matter. All that matters is that I had one hell of a night. And so here I am now, laying on this bed, by head throbing, trying to drink hydrate myself enough that I can actually do something productive today. But it was all worth it. Styles struggles a bit and he manages to sit up. He takes the glass of water and chugs down what is left of it. He the continues to speak. It was worth it because I went through all of that and I am still here. King of Dx, that's exactly what will happen on Sunday night. It will be a war between you and I. And we will both end up hurt. We will both end up in pain. EMTs will have to drag both of our bodies out that the wreckage of the Suicide in that ring. But when they do, they will be dragging out me as the winner and you as the loser. Because I will not rest, I will not stop, until I have destroyed you. I want you to bleed King. I want you to suffer. I want to break your skin and break your bones. I want to turn you into a disgusting bloody mess. Because you may have them fooled, but your still the Spam Artist of JWF. Your still that young, naïve kid looking for his break, and in the same breath becoming everyone’s bitch. Triple Crown champion means shit here. Just like my tenure as GCW World Champion, Just like my two runs as HIW Elite Champion, all of that means shit come Legacy So go ahead King. Cut, Print, Edit all you want, hit me with your best shot. Hit me with whatever you've got. Because I will not fall. I have not fallen yet. I have been beaten down for weeks, by everyone including my own Son, yet here I stand. I'm still here standing. Haven't you learned anything King? Haven't you learned anything from the JWF, from the WWA, and from TEWF. I DO NOT QUIT. I do not give up. Yeah, I may get beaten down but I am ALWAYS back up on my feet again. And you probably know something else about me: I keep grudges. King of Dx, on Sunday night I am going to unleash all of the pain I have felt over these past five weeks on you. And you're going to take it. You are going to bleed and suffer. And as I drain that life from you, as I watch that crimson liquid drip from your body, I'll smile. I'll love it. Because KOD, you deserve it. Should have just left this at one. Now look at you. Fighting for another mans quest. Your trying to accomplish what Brenton Cyrus did at War Games. Trying to become the Brenton Cyrus of the West. Maybe you would have been…If he wasn‘t your Ghost Writer. 
JOHNNY STOOD IN the center of the small dining room, his eyes on his son and the man standing above him, smoking a thin cigar. The man inched the cigar from his mouth, curls of smoke clouding his thick, tanned face. He parted the top of Alex's head. He's a good boy The man said, smiling. Very quiet. No trouble to us. He's almost a part of the family already. I will get you your money, Don Cyrus Johnny said, the Desert Eagle hanging over his shoulder, partly hidden by the sleeve of his shepherd's coat. I give you my word. Now, please. Let me have my son. Jada gave her word, too. Many times. And I am still left with nothing. Besides, the boy will know a better life with us. We can give much more than you. And with Jada out of the way, you will no longer have to live in debt. At least to us. Johnny looked down at his son and remembered the early mornings when he would lift him onto his shoulders and carry him down the slopes of the olive groves toward his flock. His head was filled with the happy sounds of a boy's laughter, as he urged his father to go faster and catch up to the grazing sheep. That brief and blissful memory was quickly replaced by the image of a grown Alex, now a hardened member of Salvation, glowering at him from the top of that very same olive grove, standing tall and silent as men with guns raced to fill their pockets with the wages of the working poor. Johnny knew he must never allow the son he loved so much to grow up to be such a man. He stepped closer to Don Cyrus and his son, ignoring the other man standing on the Don’s side of the room. One way or another, my son will come with me. You talk like a brave man. Don Cyrus put the cigar back in his mouth, his voice turned harder. But your actions will show where your courage takes you. Let me have my son Johnny said, feeling the sweat race down his neck and back. I have no more to say to you. Don Cyrus dismissed Johnny with a wave. Tend to your flock on the West coast, shepherd. Let me worry about the boy. Johnny fell to his knees and swung the desert Eagle from his back to his hands. But he did not aim it at the criminal Don Cyrus. The gun was aimed directly at his son's chest. The man in the corner pulled his own handgun and aimed it at Johnny. Don Cyrus backed away from the boy, his smoldering cigar now cupped in his right hand. Alex stared at his father, his lower lip quivering. You would kill your own blood? Your only son? Better for him to be dead than to live with you You don't have the heart for such a move, I don't even know if I do. Then save him and let him come home with me. Don Cyrus stared at Johnny for several minutes, glaring into his eyes, taking slow puffs off the cigar. No! He said, shaking his head slowly. Johnny turned away from Don Cyrus and looked at his son. It was as if the two of them were now alone. The hard gaze of the boy's eyes told his father all that he felt he needed to know. It would not take the Salvation long to steal the young boy's spirit and turn it against those he loved. They would seduce him with romanticized images of power and wealth, easily lure the child in with vivid portraits of a life much more alluring and appealing than that of a shepherd's son. It would be a corrupt life, one without scruples or morals or decency. They had not had enough time to completely tear the boy away from him, not yet, but Johnny could see that such a path had already been paved. The boy would be a thief, a criminal and, one day, a murderer. I love you, Alex Johnny said and squeezed the trigger. He watched as the bullet's impact sent his son hard against the stone fireplace. Alex crumpled to the ground, his face inches from the sparks of the crackling wood, his eyes half-open, dead from his father's hand. Now he belongs to no one Johnny said. He tossed aside the Eagle and walked toward the fireplace. He bent down, picked his son up in his arms, turned and left.
Question, when are you little bastards gonna learn, that you all don’t mean shit around these woods. I heard all of your slick talk you started floating around KOD, and really all I can say is that come Legacy the corners are gonna be busy with chalk outlines of your body. You have it twisted like this is just a everyday wrestling match. Na Kid, I’m out to kill, and if you think I’m bluffing try me! Look at you KOD won a couple of meaningless championships, and all of a sudden your fucking ballen. Until I approach that is. Until Legacy airs and we all watch you fall. You’ll be back in the WWKF line with DXLatin, talking smack because you were out of your league with the big boys! You got a prepaid Heart King, with no minutes! I guess you can say I’m feed up with all this macho talking, I’m starting to feel like everyone took notes from me talking. Starting to get the feeling your being feed lines from my carbon copy on the East. No matter what happened at War Games, I’m still something serious, don’t get my new attitude twisted, I can still make a one on one match look like a fucking crime scene! Fucking tired of all these fake stars. Try acting, at least there its alright to read someone else’s lines! See what you made me do King, I had to expose you in front of everyone, I’ll be the first to say no one holds anything against you if you want to retreat back to the rat hole you came from after its all said and done. Just tell them you ran into the best of the best. I can see it in your eyes King of Dx. I can hear it when you speak. You're scared. You know you're nothing anymore. You know you're done. You put on a front you're having a good time, but I can tell you're not. Your just putting a false face on to hide the fear. Fear that your first match here in the West just maybe your last! But then you could look at me. My career is ending as well. Except it's ending on my terms. I want it to end. Does it scare me? Sure it does, but I want this. I want to see my family. I want to live a normal life. And I'm going out of here the way I want. I've accomplished everything that I set out to do in this business. My final task will be to defeat you King of Dx, and give myself one more time to be a leader of a brand. I am going to leave you so fractured and battered that you won't even want to walk to the ring the following week King, You’re the complete opposite of me. And it will do me good to finally wipe out my evil twin. And I know what you're going to say King. It's going to sound something like this: Because despite what Brenton has been feeding you, Yea I can tell the fuck has been your Ghost writer all week hasn’t he? Unoriginal pricks! Not sure why I didn’t figure this out sooner…We all watched your pre edit work, and lets face it…Garbage is what it was. But then you meet up with Cyrus, and you went back to the editing room, crop and added things that a everyday King of Dx wouldn’t think of. Huh, I just figure it all out… Brenton Cyrus writes your shit…Using a Ghost Writer just to make yourself interesting. That’s almost as bad as Bobby Ocean jacking rps I know your going to try to hide these facts, but there already there, you're going to come out and you're going to talk about how old I am, how I don't have it anymore, how my best years are in the past. But I know you don't believe it KOD. Because look at our history. Yes, it started with you having a huge advantage, but look where it's ending. With me on top. I am the victor here King. You're the one who has nothing left. And you're the one that is going to die. I'm not a God. I'm not a Salvation. I don‘t need a ghost Writers. And I'm not a King. I am a wrestler. I am a human being. I am a human being with a heart, with emotions, with flaws. But it is that heart, it is those emotions, it is those flaws, that cause me to succeed. That is what you are missing. You have spent your entire career trying to show how you are not human, trying to show how you do not have any flaws. And in the end that is your downfall. So bring everything you have King, Bring Brenton’s work, bring Havoc to the ring. Bring it all to the ring. Bring those months and months of frustration. Bring those memories from JWF. Bring the Asylum and the crown and whatever other pathetic things you keep around yourself to hide your mortality from the world. Because on Legacy you are going to be exposed. You’re not the next Brenton Cyrus. You're not a God. You're not a Saint. You're not a King. You too are just a man. Just a broken, detached, defeated man. And I am going to bury that man. I am going to end your career. And when it's all over, you are going to look up at me from the ring, your body filled with pain, those bloodshot eyes of your staring directly at me, and you are going to thank me. You are going to thank me for ending the charade. You are going to thank me for releasing you from the character that you have created for yourself. And you are going to thank me for finally putting an end to King of Dx once and for all. For finally allowing you to rest. For finally taking the torment and the pain and the regret from your life. By ending you career I will be giving you salvation. I will be allowing you to be human once again. The pressure will be lifted. The weight will be removed. The time has come King of Dx. The king is already dead. I am here to burn the body.
As they drove back to the station Jones told Rogers the new information that he had learned. "So, apparently Johnny had been telling some acquaintances that he was sick of King of DX 'acting like he owns the place.' Johnny was very upset that KOD success seemed to be increasing just as his own life was tumbling" "Reportedly one neighbour stated that she'd heard Johnny screaming out King’s name during the night. She'd also heard him yell obscenities and threats for hours on end." "Really? When did this start?" "About a week or so ago" "Right around the time Johnny lost his job" "Exactly." "So any idea why he hung him after he killed him?" "Nothing that is backed by any evidence, There's no indication of any sort of religious beliefs involved here. All I can think of is that Johnny Styles wanted to make an example of our King of Dx. He wanted to publicly show the world how he had dominated him." As the two men talked a sudden message came blaring over the in-car radio. "CALLING ALL UNITS! CALLING ALL UNITS! WE HAVE FOLLOWED A MR. JOHN STYLES TO A WAREHOUSE ON 53rd STREET. HE IS WANTED FOR MURDER AND SHOULD BE CONSIDERED VERY DANGEROUS." Jones turned to Rogers, who had already begun turning onto 53rd street. As the two approached the warehouse it was eerily quiet. They parked their car and slowly walked towards the entrance. A group of officers were already cautiously making their way to the door. Suddenly a hideous, maniacal laugh cut through the air, startling everyone who stood outside. "Is that him?" "What a nut Suddenly the door burst open. Out ran a man with a deranged look on his face. His face was covered in blood. His hands as well. He charged towards the officers, waving what appeared to be a lead pipe in his right hand. "STOP WHERE YOU ARE! DROP THE WEAPON!" The man didn't listen. He made a bee line for one of the cops, screaming "I KILLED KING OF DX! I'M BETTER THAN HIM! BETTER THAN HIM!!!!!" Before breaking into another round of frenzied laughter. Again the officer ordered him to stop and drop the weapon. Again the request was ignored. Johnny ran towards the force, still screaming about how he was successful, how he was better than KOD. The police in front of him had no choice. They fired their weapons. Johnny dropped the ground in a heap. Streams of thick, red blood spurted from his leg. He struggled on the floor, still laughing and screaming. The officers charged at him, holding him onto the ground. They snapped handcuffs around his blood soaked wrists and dragged him towards a waiting car. The last words Jones and Rogers heard him utter were "Finally, good has triumphed! The world is rid of evil! I am victorious!" -- [ FIN ] -- |