Post by Mark Hunter on Aug 25, 2021 16:47:48 GMT -5
THE TENTH CIRCLE
“A little fact is worth a whole limbo of dreams.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson
Unaired Footage
Chicago, Illinois
August 17th, 2021 - Evening
Sins are committed yet can go unpunished as people beg for forgiveness. How peaceful. Have you ever wondered what would happen if that forgiveness was used for a person's way of just...getting ahead? To believe in a higher power, one must truly give everything away. Their mind, body, and soul. Giving 110% to being with the Lord. The mentality is far from what anyone understands. They trust so much in a higher power that they forget about what power they can hold in the actual world.
And the world Markus Lee Huntington lives in was Professional Wrestling. A God? No, he never believed himself to hold such power but as creator of your own world, a deity had to be placed for the religious fanatics who needed a scapegoat from their consequences. It's been a few days since his victory over Grand Championship number one contender Cadillac Jackson. The fans of PH have turned their eyes on him, and some have even changed their beliefs on who really is going to be their chosen one going forward. Ignorance is bliss as he always thought. Only one singles defeat in nearly ten months. What would make people think things would be different now? An unstoppable force could never be blocked unless an immovable object stands in the way BUT who IS that immovable object?
Markus sits down in the living room of his newly owned apartment. The five hundred and forty square feet property was mighty nice but wasn’t ever to be his home, he bought it solely as another rental property to start earning from. Markus sat down on the white couch, and leaned sideways against the white cushion pillow. He took off his blue Reebok shirt, and threw it on the glass round table being comforted by the lightly brown colored rug stretching to every portion of the room surface. Markus had done a lot today. An autograph signing plus training was hard enough but he had to make a few last minute preparations because of the twins being just a few weeks away.
Having the laptop before him on the glass table, he was doing some research on Brandon Hendrix. Of course, he wasn't impressed. Claiming to be anything god related is farcical but something was also off too with Hendrix. Even though Markus didn't believe in religion, he always believed there was a higher power. Mark quickly saw a video under the suggestions list panel on the right side of the screen named "Dante's Inferno". He smirked. Dante's Inferno was a hell of a game, and when he looked out the window panel wall, it clicked. He turned off every other program as he got a Skype call. It was Sophie, and he quickly answered with the voice command.
“Hey.”
“How's everything baby girl?”
“I'm not a baby Da… Markus… I’m fourteen.”
He smirked. That little slick smile of his dragging ear to ear, Sophie and Alexa had both slipped up many times and called him Dad, he liked it but wouldn’t ever push it. Mark fixed his blue workout shorts to meet with his waistline, and even dragged his black ankle socks across the rug. He leaned against the glass panel watching the sunset fall against the horizon.
“I miss you already.”
“Same. How's Alexa?”
“Well. She got in trouble again at her new school.”
“What happened?”
“A boy said something bad about you, and she tackled him...then left her hand print on his face.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. Jelena took care of it but the teacher wanted me to give you a message. The teacher clearly doesn’t know our history or that you are not Alexa’s actual father.”
“What was it?”
“Maybe if you were around to be a parent to your daughter, she wouldn't be so out of control.”
"What did that cunt say?!”
Markus stormed over to the white couch, and sat down before his computer. His hazel eyes narrowed, almost turning blood red like a demon clawing its way out. Sophie chuckled, and he raised his eyebrow up; Ready to blow a gasket.
“It's okay. Jelena shut her up.”
“Oh. Good. Phew. Sorry about swearing, I was about to unleash hell.”
Yeah, he really was.
“Sooooo....I have something to ask you.”
“Yeah?”
“Well, I took your Xbox One.”
"Excuse me?!”
“You weren't gonna use it, and Jelena thought about throwing it away."
“Oh thank god. Continue.”
That was a close one. No man would ever come back from a destroyed Xbox.
“So I played Dante's Inferno Remastered... I don't really understand the story of the game. Okay. There's Nine Circles of Hell but I don't understand each one. Dante's going for Beatrice to save her. What does each circle mean?”
He stood up from the white couch, and then sat down against the window panel wall on the light brown carpet.
“The first circle is Limbo. It's literally what you call a wannabe Heaven for people who did the good deeds but never really got baptized. These rituals, rules, and everything about religion, especially Christianity always had me fucked up. However, Dante's Inferno is very interesting, and very interesting by the sense of what's to come next time I fight. See, I don't know anything about Brandon Hendrix but emotional intelligence is something I've never let go. When studying your opponent, people always tend to look at what they can do in the ring and how great they are physically. If they saw a ninja wielding dual blades shooting two hundred knives at once, they'd shit their pants. The psychological warfare is where I truly exceed. This is professional wrestling, anyone can beat anyone physically.”
“The beauty of beliefs, and theories. Facts always win. The fact is simple, and short. I am the one who's gonna win, I’m going to lead Proving Ground, and no one will get in my way. So what will be the belief when I step into the ring with Brandon Hendrix? He may be heavier than me, taller than me, and while he can't wrestle as good as me, something about him is very interesting. He's smart, and cunning. I can always read it but what got me the most was how volatile he acted when Serrano embarrassed him. Right then, and there. I smelt the truth. You know what that means?”
“What?”
"It means he's vulnerable psychologically. He thinks he's above that but what happens when he stands in the ring with me, and then when the bell is rung? he loses? Was it all necessary to reveal your true intentions? The first circle of Hell, Limbo, will welcome Brandon. See, whether he's a good kid by heart or maybe an asshole by nature. Limbo awaits any idiot who uses the name of God to further their own actions. This is his inefficient heaven. He'll be dragged down into that castle meeting the other legendary philosophers who put themselves before God. Socrates, Voltaro.”
“Men who have created so much improvements in science for us to build the great cities we live in. They all fell into that Hell. Praying desperately to reach the gates of Elysium but that wish will never be answered. It's the same thing for Brandon Hendrix. This is his first time being in a REAL company, and being surrounded by people who are hungrier than him. Why should I fear him? I've faced worse but out of everyone in Project Honor, I'm the WORST. Hendrix will be sitting down in a white room wondering why he can't be let into the halls of peace, and tranquility. He relied too much on himself. After beating on him for so long, I'll be the one to prove that nothing will protect him.”
Leaning against the glass, the sun sank into the water. Darkness fell into the sky, and the concrete stars were illuminating the skies. Sophie was very intrigued by his explanation.
“So...that's the first circle. What are the other eight?”
“When angry, count four. When very angry, swear.” - Mark Twain
Unaired Footage
Chicago, Illinois
August 18th, 2021 - Evening
Wednesday evening, and he was already stuck in traffic from his afternoon workout. There was an accident between two sedans in an intersection that was almost being cleared up. Mark sat down in his rented Lexus LS 600H. Mark had placed the black bag on the passenger seat while bumping "My Church" by Home Free from his Spotify app. He leaned back in the leather black seat, gripping the steering wheel tight as time was just passing by.
“...of all the times to have an accident, it had to be now. Damn you Chicago. Damn me for even choosing to buy a property in Chicago. Who the fuck chooses Chicago? Unless you're a Punk.”
The screen immediately displayed "Jelena Martyn" with a call or deny button under it. Pressing the call button on his driver's wheel with his right thumb, he answered her, and she was going through a strong hormones phase.
“Hello?”
“Why haven't you called?!”
“It's only been two hours.”
“...Oh...it's only been two hours. No, I called you at 15:55 PM. So it's been two hours, and five minutes! Are you fucking sleeping with another bitch? Huh? What?! Is it because I'm pregnant? What? You found another bitch obsessed with you trying to ruin our relationship like last time?”
“...What?”
“Answer me you midget motherfucker!”
“...What?”
“Oh, so you are cheating?”
“...What?”
“Fine, fuck you!”
The call hung up, and Markus looked ahead at the traffic in front of him with the most confused facial expression known to man. He kept switching back and forth to the squad of police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances plus road workers clearing the crash, and injured people. It seemed like they were almost done but Mark just rolled his eyes, and continued listening to Home Free. In fact he started singing along with a much better voice than anyone would expect.
“When Hank brings the sermon… And Cash leads the choir… It gets my cold cold heart burning… Hotter than a ring of fire… When this wonderful world gets heavy… And I need to find my escape… I just keep the wheels rolling, radio scrolling… 'Til my sins wash away…”
Music interrupted again. It was Jelena. Of course, he answered.
“Hello?”
“I'm sorry.”
“You're good. It's alright. How are you?”
“Mood swings. I hate them. One minute I'm happy, next I'm crying my heart out, and then I feel like I want to rip someone's heart out. This fucking sucks. Being pregnant is the worst thing ever.”
“You'll get used to it eventually. You only have like three weeks to go, you’ve had over eight months practice though.”
“Oh fuck you!”
He laughed hard. Markus even slammed his hand on the horn accidentally.
“Still getting your cravings even in this third fucking trimester?”
“Honestly, no. I haven't eaten as much as I thought I would. SOPHIE! CAN YOU BRING ME SOME POTATO CHIPS, ICE CREAMS, AND THE TWO BAGS OF TOSTITOS?! THANK YOU!”
"...Yeah, no cravings. Gluttony ass.”
“Did you just call me fat?!”
“Oh no. Not you, someone else.”
“Who?”
“Errrrm… Brandon Hendrix, my next opponent… that was it.”
“I wish you were here in San Jose.”
“I do too but you know I have to do this. Sorting out this place has been hectic.”
“So you're gonna do fine against Brandon, right?”
“Obviously.”
He got closer, and closer to the stoplight. The crash turned out to be way more than he expected. Piles of cash were being swept, and collected by the police, and other government officials. It was clear this wasn't an accident by any normal member of the public, it was a robbery in progress. Markus leaned in closer for a better look. Young individuals in handcuffs being shoved into the back of a police unit. A disappointing site to see actually.
“MARKUS, you there?”
He snapped back into the conversation.
“Yeah, sorry baby. I just saw an accident, well more like a chase reaching the end.”
“What happened?”
“A robbery went sour. Huge crash at an intersection. Money thrown everywhere, and even kids getting arrested.”
“Greedy motherfuckers always get what they deserve.”
"Or what if they are greedy for the right reasons?”
“Right reasons?”
"Yeah. Nothing is wrong with being greedy. Success, helping others...Winning titles.”
“Oh god. I know where this is going.”
“Tell me.”
"You're gonna talk about... better yet let me pretend to be you. I'm so greedy to become the next Grand Champion that my hunger will continue to spread across everyone until they're all gone. No one in this company can be as hungry as I am. I train every day, and I fight every night. The hunger I breed inside me is the fire blazing higher, and higher to be the next Champion. That greed for gold is why I'm one of the most decorated wrestlers in the business. My opponent, Brandon, he doesn't understand what it's like to own a future Hall of Fame or own gold. He's a clueless newborn fish swimming in the ocean of sharks. However, the biggest shark is me. I'm Mark Hunter for a reason, no one can stop me. People forget this is a business, a business to be the best. The best is Mark Fucking Hunter. But that greed is another one of my deadly sins. I can't control it when I ooze greed, and gluttony. Hungry for gold, and hungry for blood. I can't, and I will never stop. Brandon. I hope you're listening because Proving Ground is when your hunger will be satisfied with nothing but regret, and loss. You will bleed. My actions change the landscape, and even makes the Earth Shake. I am the world. I am the next Grand Champion, and I am a greedy motherfucker who forgets to send his girlfriend sweets!”
After driving through the chaotic scene, he was only five minutes away from hitting up the local bakery on the way. Markus leaned back in the seat with a gigantic smile on his face.
“I love you. I love you so much.”
“I love you too. How was that?”
“Good. I'll call you later. Byeeeee.”
“Byeeee.”
He hung up, and exhaled in confidence...until realizing something.
"Come to think of it...too good.....what if she becomes a Champion? FUCK!!”
“Nobody knows you better than you do.” - Robert Cheeke
Aired Footage
Unknown Arena
August 23rd, 2021 - Evening
“Just when I thought I was going to be booked in a snooze fest or not booked at all because Larry Kachow has been put in charge, the old fucker surprises me with something new in my prestigious pro wrestling career. Proving Ground in Maebashi, Japan will have another great showing of one of the most loved athletes in the business....me… of course.”
“Don't get me wrong, I have massive respect for the majority of the younger talent in this business... but Brandon Hendrix? Really? I understand Project Honor is a company where new talent gets built up at all times, check my record of being willing to work with talent but really? Why do I have to play babysitter for a man who would barely know how to wipe his own ass even if directions where placed on his shit tickets. Why him?”
“There's a difference between giving a young wolf a chance to see if he is the alpha and putting him against the omega. Unfortunately, Larry Kachow doesn't understand the difference as he's subjected Brandon Hendrix to an early burial in his "career". Why do I say it like that? Despite the bullshit he will give about being the Don Dada, the reality is immensely different. He's only growing his fangs against a wolf who has shed his fur for the thousandth time. I don't consider myself a wolf against this kid, I consider myself a fuckin' nightmare. Brandon Hendrix is no competition in the ring, it should have been left at my lesson to him last time out, he did something wrong to Serrano, I sent a message, he heard it loud and clear, I let him survive, no need for Larry to book this shit and kill him.”
Mark sits down in one of the rows of seats set up in an unknown arena, a ring is set up, it literally could be any arena in the world. Wearing a white buttoned shirt, black pants and dress shoes. He also looks at the Michael Kors crystal watch on his left wrist before putting his arm down. One stern look into the camera and you can feel how intense the stare from those raging hazel eyes are penetrating the camera lens.
“So Mister Brandon Hendrix. Welcome to the highest level of Project Honor and welcome to the biggest match- no. The last match of your career because we both know you're not making this match end in your favor nor are you walking out of it with any future. There's a pecking order in this company and you fail to sit comfortably at even the bottom end of that order.”
“Everything elevates me above you and this match. Hell, my career does it with ease and that puts me on the verge of ruining yours before it even begun. Don't get me wrong. I love it when the new generation are determined to make a name for themselves, put everything they know into a match and set a goal for themselves to achieve it. It's what Professional Wrestling is about. Breaking your limits every day, moving past the expectations set from others watching you and proving to everyone in the promotion that you are the next Great Champion or show leader.”
“I don't want to be this guy Brandon Hendrix but you don't have a fuckin' chance. You're in this match as a tune up for my skills cause I'm leading Proving Ground into a fight with Fallout. Other than Cadillac Jackson, I haven't had some serious action since I faced Elena DeDraca, so this should be fun. What am I supposed to fear from you? You're a nobody. Another wench trying to make himself more than he seems but actions speak louder than words my dear. Your actions are silent. No noise, no nothing. All you are is just wind being blown out into people's faces for one teeny tiny second and right there, you're gone. You don't even hit hard enough to be considered a one hit wonder. People thought I was a one hit wonder, like when on debut I beat a champion but I kept fucking doing it, I proved that I can hit twice as hard hence why I'm talking to you as the greatest Grand Champion in Project Honors history, I’m talking to you as the man that carried the fucking show after Indy’s back gave out and Dickie Watson threw a hissy fit that left me to carry the load alone. I'm pretty sure you enjoy picking up a pay check, so you along with everyone else should be fucking grateful I not only carried the load like no one before me, but took the brand to levels that meant they could pay pay checks to new talent like you.”
“You don't deserve anything right now and how Larry even chose you for a match of this caliber is beyond me. I don't respect you at all Brandon because you have nothing on your resume, well except the egotistical bullshit of believing you could be “The Guy” after less than two years in the business. It's blank Brandon, it’s a great big load of nothingness. Your real resume could be confused with a new document from Microsoft Word. All your worth is wasted space on the talent roster trying to be the next big thing but after this beating I'll give, you're going to be the next big bitch. My bitch, sorry bro. I can't help but put down the new generation who think they're hot shit only to get tea bagged by a joke like Serrano Poblano. That's what talented people do. We see the fake from the real, we understand someone like Cadillac is real, we understand Brandon Hendrix is fake, we tear down the illusion of talent and introduce the reality of it. Hendrix, you better hide because I will not spare any fuckin' mercy on ending your pathetic garbage of a professional wrestling career you have in PH. I'm really sorry Proving Ground got stuck with this dumb ass. We deserve better, way better.”
“I'm going to personally destroy Brandon Hendrix. He's not the type of character we want nor is he of the level required to be useful to Proving Ground. Most of the younger talent can hold up to a certain standard already but Brandon Hendrix, fuckin' pathetic. Brandon, you want the win but I also want it and I know you don't have the talent to match up against me any time.”
“I hate to be an asshole. Truths are never easy to take as Hendrix might be pissing his panties when he saw his name against mine. He may have barely survived Poblano but there's no possible future of him ever beating me. I will be successful even if it means breaking every bone in the body of Mister Hendrix on national television. I am willing to go down that path.”
“Are you getting cold feet Brandon Hendrix?”
“That chill running down your spine?”
“It's a natural reaction. Do you know what prey do at the slightest knowledge of the predators coming? They know they don't hold any chance of survival unless they become parasites. The prey has to latch onto a stronger host to get that sense of security but what happens when the host rejects them? Destruction is their only destiny. Brandon Hendrix, Project Honor will eventually reject you because YOU ARE A PARASITE! You'll just drain everyone. It's always you and it will always be the likes of you that drag down this company into the dirt. Know why? You're pathetic, weak and poorly minded. You have no future so accept it. Why carry on when you have no chance? You are a deluded idiot, you believe in false hope. I'm a realist and I know deep in my heart that I am the best in the world. My work is factual, written in stone. Yours is broken words falling on deaf ears.”
“So run Brandon.”
“Don't show up.”
“Save your skin.”
“A fool's paradise is a wise man's hell!” - Thomas Fuller
Unaired Footage
Chicago, Illinois
August 17th, 2021 - Evening
“So I take it the eighth circle is Fraud, and the ninth circle is Treachery? So he's a fraud because he's a false prophet, and after you'll beat him, he'll betray his own self, and become the backslider he has always been?”
“Bingo. Alright. I have to get some sleep, and you should too.”
He stood up from the rug after talking to Sophie about the game and it’s links to his next fight.
“Wait Dad. I have one more question.”
There was the slip up of “Dad” again.
“Yes?”
“Is there a tenth circle?”
“Yes. There is a tenth circle in Brandon's Inferno.”
He walked over, and sat down on the white couch again. Markus leaned in closer to the laptop.
“What is it?”
Markus smiled, and said goodnight before closing the laptop. Walking through the living room hallway, he stepped into the bedroom where he jumped onto the king sized bed covering himself chest to feet with his blue sheets. Green pillow fluffed, he placed his hands behind his head, looking up at the ceiling.
“The tenth circle of Hell is… Me.”