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From the Ashes, Shall Rise the Phoenix The voice is deep, a thick Southern English Brogue accompanies his speech. As he coughs to clear his throat, the picture brightens with blood red light enough to reveal a silhouette of William Stone, his arms folded across his chest. The face of William Stone is lit just enough to see the cuts from James Spyder�s barbed wire over his left eye brow and a small tear in his left cheek. Dark Purple Bruises on his Cheek and Forehead against his pale white skin from the croquet mallet and from taking that Twisted Take on the Downward Spiral through a table, he calls the Spyder�s Bite and some on his neck from his epic battle with Jesy Blue. His stare into the lens of the Studio Camera speaks volumes, revenge boiling his blood. He wears the same coat he did the night of Mutilation, traces of all three men�s blood over various area�s of the leather, visible against the red light. Rise, and the stars themselves shall hide. The picture is flooded with the blood red light bringing the smallest details visible to the camera, such as the much smaller and lighter bruises on the forehead and neck of the blood stained William Stone. Stone stands at his full height, arms folded before his stomach, creasing his jacket up around his shoulders, and elbows. His head is tilted to one side slightly, his eyes glazed but piercing. It�s only in the aftermath of a battle, you see the destruction caused. You stand over the battle field and see the broken bodies and damage to the landscape. Natures canvas torn apart by the only art man has left, war. Painting it�s red and black beauty over the dull grass laden fields. Empty shells of men left clutching their weapons to their chest as wounds from gun shots and explosions of shrapnel sit comfortably in their torn flesh. Stone runs his hands over his platinum blonde hair, taking a step back against the red brick wall that stand behind him, aged by time, soiled by dust and eroded by rain. Moss infects the concrete between the bricks, turning it green. The industry of war, gives haste to life. Bringing the end abruptly. Stone pulls his shirt open with his left hand, an aged scar is revealed over his heart, a knife wound to a trained eye. They talk about the end He removes his hand from his shirt letting it fall closed. But it�s funny what runs through a mans mind, when his life hangs in the balance. Everyone seems to think it�s the special moments you freeze in time, your mum singing you to sleep at night, sneaking into the cinema with your best friend� He almost lets a smile escape from his face. The way your girls hair shimmers in the sun� It fades just as quickly as it formed. Truth is, the only thing you can think about is�. Wow�.. This really sucks. He laughs. Then you�re gone� He taps his chest. Or not. The screen fades for a moment.
Before fading back in on an Emergency Room. A middle age seemingly middle class white couple stand before a tall black doctor, with a close crop hair cut and a small goatee below his lower lip. His Khaki Chinos and pristine white shirt matches up closely with the middle age man, even their ties are close to identical. The woman in contrast is dressed in a grey pants suit as though she perhaps just arrived from an office job. The doctor�s appearance is morose as he speaks inaudible to the camera the middle aged couple burst into tears, uncontrollably.
Heart Breaking isn�t it
The camera zooms out revealing Stone facing the couple, leaning against the wall with his back to the camera, a large gash in the back of his head visible, the blackening scab gripping his peroxide punished hair.
Their daughter just died.
He turns around, his face stereotypical of William Stone, void of emotion.
Wasn�t sudden. Cancer, liver� or kidneys or�
He shrugs.
What does it matter, the only thing that matters to them right now is that they lost their little girl, and so they cry. When she arrived, she shed no tears, she knew the end had arrived, and she went with a smile on her face� 10 years old, and she died with a smile on her face.
He lifts his left hand, pushing his hair back.
It�s beautiful; a girl so young, accepting her fate like that? Might make a lesser man cry.
He raises his eye brows, a dismissive look crosses his face.
The day, I came to this very hospital to have the holes in my head stitched shut after taking a blow from a croquet mallet, an old man screamed for his life as his heart began to expire. 83 and he cried like a new born as his body passed it�s sell by date.
You see death comes in different shapes and forms. War, cancer, disease, old age� murder. There will come a time for each of us, and for two of us, it may come in a very specific form.
Stone folds his arms over his chest as he looks back at the camera.
Jesy�. James, in a little over two days we square off, first to two falls. The first, a last man standing match up. Something as a kick boxer I�m rather familiar with. A 10 count, as simple as that. One man left standing over barely still beating bodies of his adversaries� to get the first fall.
Then joined at the ankles with steel, there will be no running, there will be no escape from this point onward. The second fall to come from submission or pin fall, in a chain gang match inside that very ring. Given the state the three of us found ourselves in at mutilation past, with no fall being reached, I imagine by now the blood will be flowing. This is how it begins, the slow decay of the body. Under normal circumstances such superficial wounds would heal sufficiently for a minimum of damage to the body to occur, but the constant movement, the constant punishment each of our bodies will take, will keep those wounds fresh, keep them bleeding, tear them open letting them bleed more profusely, over time this takes it�s effect.
Stone cracks a large grin, his perfect teeth gleaming against the lights of the camera.
By the end of the second fall some, if not all of us will have internal injuries, if this is the case, you�d be gasping for air, due to the oxygen shortage in your cells because of the blood loss. Dizzy, your blood pressure gradually reducing. Your heart races to make up the difference.
And so we enter the third fall, a Japanese� Death Match
Stone smirks.
It may yet prove to be just that. With the blood flowing, with the heart racing, so many instruments of destruction within and around that ring� Fatal� may be the word.
William begins to slowly crack his knuckles one at a time.
And my opponents? Jesy Blue�. What to say about Jesy. Drugs, Gibberish, if this match were a Joke, Jesy would be the punch line�. Highly anticipated, and invariably a let down. Spent the majority of this week chasing kids around with a Camera. You know Jesy where I come from they lock people up for that shit. I gotta admit though, that kid with the bowler hat, he has good taste man.
For two consecutive weeks Team Dinucci has taken Jesy further than he�s been before in PPW, and both times, Jesy has shown that he doesn�t have what it takes to keep up with Tre and I. However the question arises, are you lucky to get a second crack at the whip at Battle for Supremacy, or will this match be the last we see of Jesy Blue.
And the third ingredient in this cocktail of destruction. James Spyder� Spyder is a�..
Stone grabs a passing ER doctor at the arm, causing a sharp glare from the resident.
Is Pathological Idiot an actual condition?
The doctor looks dismissive before he shrugs Stone from his arm and continues walking. Stone laughs to himself.
James Spyder, you brought it all to Mutilation, croquet mallet, hand full of barbed wire, beautiful really. I�m not a man so easily disposed of as that. I am not a man who is so easily cast aside. The bruises you caused, the blood, the pain� nothing. It�s all� nothing.
Such a dramatic arrival James, only to embrace cowardice. Shame, really. Reduced to an dog, sniffing for a chance at the big time by praying on the fallen after they�ve battled it out for nearing an hour. You spoke about it not being enough for my drive to win the PPW World Heavy Weight Title to be the fuel behind my performance at Battle for Supremacy, yet, your cowardly attack on Jesy and I, was halted by� the opportunity to get your hands in on this match.
However, you don�t know me, you don�t seem familiar with Jesy. The only thing I can see about this match that would give it any worth to you� would be a chance to gain a shot at the PPW World Heavy Weight Title, so in the end James. It comes down to who wants it more� who has the least fear. Well take a good look James, my eyes are wide open.
Stone stares deep into the Camera, the shot shudders as the Cameraman looks on at the unforgiving stare of William Stone.
In 2 days, 3 Army�s will step into this battle. The Battle for Supremacy. 2 Army�s will fall, and one shall stand victorious.
The shot fades to a black and white picture of dying Soldiers in Russia nearing the end of World War 2. |