Chapter 1: The Saga Begins
This awesome layout
was designed by
www.enigma.moved.in
Slowly, methodically, he proceeds to massage and lather the shower scrub all over himself, making sure to wash every inch of his body that he can reach. After lathering up, he turns around, and rinses himself off, before turning the water off, and slowly opening the door. As he steps out of the stall, steam billows out into the room, fogging up the mirrors and windows. He promptly dries himself, and gets dressed; putting on a loose fitting pair of black Wrangler brand name jeans, and a red muscle shirt. He combs his wet hair, and steps out of the bathroom back into the bedroom, with a wide-eyed smile on his face.
He had forgotten that he had company the previous night. She was still lying in his bed, still very much asleep. She was quite beautiful; long, flowing blonde hair, blue eyes...she was almost perfect in every possible way. Anthoni made his way over to a dresser, grabbing his wallet, and quickly jotted a note for her, letting her know he wouldn't be back anytime soon and that she could let herself out of the house. As he made his way out of the bedroom, he carefully placed the note on the nightstand next to the bed, where she would see it. He left the room, and closed the door behind him.
It's hard to believe that he had gotten over Chloe so quickly. But after the way she had treated him, he had to move on, unless he wanted to revert back to the way he used to be; dependent on anti-depressants and alcohol. As he pulled the front door open, the brightness of the sunlight caught him off guard. After all, it was supposed to rain today. Still, he smiled. Despite the meterologist's predictions, it had turned out to be a perfect day. The sun was out, but it wasn't hot at all. The sky was cloud free, and there was a crisp cool breeze blowing. It was an absolutely perfect day for a walk.
He was late; he had forgotten about his appointment, and forgot to set his alarm last night. Hurriedly, he walks down the street, buttoning his shirt as he does so. After approximately ten minutes of walking he enters a small building, walks down the hall. He knocks several times on the door, until a voice from within beckoned for him to come in.
"Please, have a seat, I've been expecting you."
"I'm merely here for my final post-treatment evaluation. The sooner we get that over with, the sooner I'll be out of your hair."
"As pleasant as that sounds, Anthoni, it's really not that simple."
The chair that looms behind the exquisitely polished wooden desk swivels around, revealing the smiling face of Ian Leslie. Anthoni's jaw drops, and he shakes his head a couple of times before succumbing to the reality at hand.
"What the hell are you doing here, Ian?"
"Let's just say that I called in a favor. Anthoni, despite what you may think, I am here to help you."
"As nice as that sounds, I think I'll pass. My life is perfectly fine now, thanks."
"Is it now? Let's see, you're currently single, living in a run down town house in Chicago. If that's your idea of perfectly fine, then so be it. However, I have it on record that you've gotten yourself back in the 'business', and should you listen to me, I can assure you that your success in the WWA will last."
Anthoni rubs his chin, thinking about it for a moment, before finally looking back up at Ian.
"What's in it for you?"
"Now Anthoni, why on earth would you question my intentions? I'm not trying to extort you for all you're worth. I merely want to help an old colleague...is that a crime?"
"Alright, I'll listen. You've got five minutes."
The two talk for seemingly hours, their conversation ending in a firm handshake between the two. As Anthoni makes his way out of the office, Ian calls his name, garnerning his attention for one last moment.
"Good, I'm glad you've come to your senses..."
Anthoni nods at Ian in acknowledgment, and then exits the office through the double glass doors at the front of the building. The sun is still shining brightly, as he pulls his can of dip from his pocket, packs it, and packs his lip full of tobacco, promptly spitting out a puddle of juice and saliva.
"Tyson Deadwood...WWA International Champion...the first man to fall at the hands of me, Anthoni Young. Tyson, I've listened to your words many times, and analyzed them many more, and I've come to a conclusion. It's a simple conclusion, but its the truth. All this week, instead of making preparations for the biggest match of your life, you've been a broken record...repeating the same thing over...and over....and over...and over."
"We all know what you're capable of, Deadwood. We all saw what you did to War Machine when you won that championship that you gingerly leave lying around as if it doesn't matter. And yes, we all know that you want to cause massive amounts of pain and what not during your tenure here in WWA. However, you've failed to realize one thing. In your hunger for competition, you've allowed one victory to fool you into believing that you are the perfect in-ring warrior, and that no one shall impede your quest for glory."
"I, however, am going to do you a favor at Sin, and that is, I'm going to set your mind straight. I'm going to disprove your ego, and by doing so, you'll come to realize that one's failures and mistakes will only make them stronger, and wiser. So the way I see it, Tyson, is simply this. We can do this one of two ways...the easy way, or the hard way. The easy way is this, you don't show up, forfeit the match to me, and avoid having your quest for glory thwarted altogether. However, if your ego is too stubborn, and you're too drunk off your own hype to admit defeat, then show up for our match, I'll give you one hell of a hangover, as I go on to defeat Chris Wall for the WWA Heavyweight Title."
Anthoni spits another wad of saliva and tobacco juice to the ground, and smiles briefly, before walking off down one of the side streets on his way to downtown Chicago...
;