Post by Brandon Hendrix on Feb 1, 2022 19:30:14 GMT -5
"KING Of Society- An Angelo Caito Special
Unrecorded ■
Despite losing consciousness, almost like a voice in his head, he can hear it: "And NEW Project Honor Gatekeeper Champion!". Everything he worked for, now over. Everyone starts leaving the arena, but Angelo remains. Then, the lights go out and when they come back on, Angelo is gone. He awakens, arms chained to the ceiling, face pushed against the wall, and his ankles chained to the floor below.
"Ughh… wh...what the….? Hey! Let me the FUCK DOWN NOW!" Suddenly, the sound of a door being swung open and the sound of multiple people walking into the room echoes in the abyss of their location. Angelo growls as he tries turning his head and seeing who it is.
"Oh Angelo…. You failed. You lost and you lost your throne to the kingdom. You know what follows suit."
"I LOST?!?! MY PARTNERS ABANDONED ME! I WAS LEFT ALONE TO ROT IN THAT RING AGAINST THREE FUCKING PEOPLE! DON'T YOU SIT THERE AND SAY I LOST BECAUSE I DIDN'T LOSE!"
"It doesn't matter what your partners did, what matters is that you couldn't get the job done. Whip him." The sound of footsteps leaving followed by metal dragging on the ground rings in Angelo's ears, and he knows what's coming. One of the men in the ring lights up a blow torch, and torches the metal chain. The bigger of the group grabs the chain and lashes it across the back of Angelo.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" If there was ever a time Angelo wishes he died, this would definitely be one of the times he wants to be. His back gets whipped over and over again, to seemingly no end. Hours that seemed like days finally passed by and Angelo had passed out midway through. When he awakens, he slowly opens his eyes and next to him is a puddle of water. He tries pushing upwards, but his back is destroyed. He had to crawl his way to something that can pull him up and off the disgusting, rat infested alley floor. He gets to a dumpster and pulls himself up, using the dumpster to get Angelo to his feet. He goes to walk, but his back won't let him move. He falls backwards into the dumpster…..
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCK!" Angelo elbows the dumpster, giving it a small dent. He lowers his head, trying to catch his breath as all that replays in his head was first the conversation that it was their fault Angelo lost, then Angelo being attacked in the match followed suit. If they watched his back, Angelo would still be the Gatekeeper Champion. Now, he was pissed. He slowly pushed himself off the dumpster and growled slightly. ".... Alright….I'm going to kill you all…" He runs his hand through his blood soaked beard before limping off gingerly.
"Ughh… wh...what the….? Hey! Let me the FUCK DOWN NOW!" Suddenly, the sound of a door being swung open and the sound of multiple people walking into the room echoes in the abyss of their location. Angelo growls as he tries turning his head and seeing who it is.
"Oh Angelo…. You failed. You lost and you lost your throne to the kingdom. You know what follows suit."
"I LOST?!?! MY PARTNERS ABANDONED ME! I WAS LEFT ALONE TO ROT IN THAT RING AGAINST THREE FUCKING PEOPLE! DON'T YOU SIT THERE AND SAY I LOST BECAUSE I DIDN'T LOSE!"
"It doesn't matter what your partners did, what matters is that you couldn't get the job done. Whip him." The sound of footsteps leaving followed by metal dragging on the ground rings in Angelo's ears, and he knows what's coming. One of the men in the ring lights up a blow torch, and torches the metal chain. The bigger of the group grabs the chain and lashes it across the back of Angelo.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" If there was ever a time Angelo wishes he died, this would definitely be one of the times he wants to be. His back gets whipped over and over again, to seemingly no end. Hours that seemed like days finally passed by and Angelo had passed out midway through. When he awakens, he slowly opens his eyes and next to him is a puddle of water. He tries pushing upwards, but his back is destroyed. He had to crawl his way to something that can pull him up and off the disgusting, rat infested alley floor. He gets to a dumpster and pulls himself up, using the dumpster to get Angelo to his feet. He goes to walk, but his back won't let him move. He falls backwards into the dumpster…..
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCK!" Angelo elbows the dumpster, giving it a small dent. He lowers his head, trying to catch his breath as all that replays in his head was first the conversation that it was their fault Angelo lost, then Angelo being attacked in the match followed suit. If they watched his back, Angelo would still be the Gatekeeper Champion. Now, he was pissed. He slowly pushed himself off the dumpster and growled slightly. ".... Alright….I'm going to kill you all…" He runs his hand through his blood soaked beard before limping off gingerly.
Unrecorded ■
Back at the arena, leaving the utility closet is the new owner of the Universal Briefcase and former Noble Champion, Billy Bennett. Celebrating winning the briefcase from True Society mate Syndicate, she goes down the hallway, only to be stopped by a machete near her face. She turns to see a pissed off Caito staring at her.
"Don't talk, just listen." Angelo lowers the machete down beside his leg. "I don't care what your goal is, but what you pulled out there is signing a death penalty. Every group I've been in or watched develop always ends because one egotistical cunt puts themselves in front of the cause. Now, because of you, I was left alone out there against FOUR people and because of it, I lost the one thing that matters more to me than my own life, that Gatekeeper Championship. Your selfishness took something away, something that matters more than your own life. I promise you this now, since I got no title to defend, I'm making it my mission. True Society is going to be packed tight, no issues, nothing. If I even sense another backstabbing scheme, you won't live to cash that case in, ever." Angelo and Billy stare eyes to eyes for a second before Angelo turns his back to her, his burnt, scarred flesh of a back is the last thing she sees of him before he walks out of vision.
Havoc rests on a crate in the hallway, his Prime Championship resting on his lap, just retaining the belt and now must worry about the next wrestler in line to challenge him for it. He continues his train of thought until his attention turns to the sharp blade dragging across his Championship. He looks up, tossing the title to the side of him but gets face to face with Angelo now.
"Retained your title via forfeit. Fucking pussy. You talked about passing our own goals to make it out alive only to be a reason I was left for dead. And for what? This title?" Angelo grabs the Prime Championship and holds it up to Havoc's face. "Fuck you and your title. This isn't OWA or whatever you think this in your thick ass head, but this is bigger than you. This is about us now. We're going to fix this. And if you don't change, then you can join the Grand Wizard dreads wearing racist in Hell." Angelo growls as he tosses the title into the chest of Havoc before holding the machete up to his nose before backing up, still staring a hole into Havoc as he walks off past the corner of the hall, out of sight and out of mind.
Outside the arena, a very distraught and emotionally damaged Syndicate sitting in his vehicle, head resting on the steering wheel after now losing his Universal Briefcase. A knock on his window disturbs him as he looks up and sees Angelo, who seemingly is going for all the heads involved in the match. He motions for Syndicate to exit the vehicle with his machete, to which Syndicate does so with caution. "Shit there and keep quiet."
"Look at you. Pathetic. You aren't a man at all. You're a little boy playing with adults. But your child games failed ME and is the reason why I'm now longer the Gatekeeper Champion! Listen to me Syndicate. You need to get your head out of your ass and get out of your feelings, because if you're the reason I lose another big match again, then you won't have enough time to commit suicide, because I'll be the reason you're in a fucking pine box." Brandon stares at Syndicate before walking off, leaving an already emotional Syndicate further into his state of depression.
The following day, Angelo, still suffering from the whips on his back, continues scheming in his mind on how to get his revenge. He continues walking down the street when he stops at a window with a couple of televisions on display showing news of Fallout. It shows Angelo, Havoc, Syndicate, and Billy Bennett in a fatal four way match to be crowned "King". He watches, and his plan comes together. Now, it's time to execute it.
"Don't talk, just listen." Angelo lowers the machete down beside his leg. "I don't care what your goal is, but what you pulled out there is signing a death penalty. Every group I've been in or watched develop always ends because one egotistical cunt puts themselves in front of the cause. Now, because of you, I was left alone out there against FOUR people and because of it, I lost the one thing that matters more to me than my own life, that Gatekeeper Championship. Your selfishness took something away, something that matters more than your own life. I promise you this now, since I got no title to defend, I'm making it my mission. True Society is going to be packed tight, no issues, nothing. If I even sense another backstabbing scheme, you won't live to cash that case in, ever." Angelo and Billy stare eyes to eyes for a second before Angelo turns his back to her, his burnt, scarred flesh of a back is the last thing she sees of him before he walks out of vision.
Havoc rests on a crate in the hallway, his Prime Championship resting on his lap, just retaining the belt and now must worry about the next wrestler in line to challenge him for it. He continues his train of thought until his attention turns to the sharp blade dragging across his Championship. He looks up, tossing the title to the side of him but gets face to face with Angelo now.
"Retained your title via forfeit. Fucking pussy. You talked about passing our own goals to make it out alive only to be a reason I was left for dead. And for what? This title?" Angelo grabs the Prime Championship and holds it up to Havoc's face. "Fuck you and your title. This isn't OWA or whatever you think this in your thick ass head, but this is bigger than you. This is about us now. We're going to fix this. And if you don't change, then you can join the Grand Wizard dreads wearing racist in Hell." Angelo growls as he tosses the title into the chest of Havoc before holding the machete up to his nose before backing up, still staring a hole into Havoc as he walks off past the corner of the hall, out of sight and out of mind.
Outside the arena, a very distraught and emotionally damaged Syndicate sitting in his vehicle, head resting on the steering wheel after now losing his Universal Briefcase. A knock on his window disturbs him as he looks up and sees Angelo, who seemingly is going for all the heads involved in the match. He motions for Syndicate to exit the vehicle with his machete, to which Syndicate does so with caution. "Shit there and keep quiet."
"Look at you. Pathetic. You aren't a man at all. You're a little boy playing with adults. But your child games failed ME and is the reason why I'm now longer the Gatekeeper Champion! Listen to me Syndicate. You need to get your head out of your ass and get out of your feelings, because if you're the reason I lose another big match again, then you won't have enough time to commit suicide, because I'll be the reason you're in a fucking pine box." Brandon stares at Syndicate before walking off, leaving an already emotional Syndicate further into his state of depression.
The following day, Angelo, still suffering from the whips on his back, continues scheming in his mind on how to get his revenge. He continues walking down the street when he stops at a window with a couple of televisions on display showing news of Fallout. It shows Angelo, Havoc, Syndicate, and Billy Bennett in a fatal four way match to be crowned "King". He watches, and his plan comes together. Now, it's time to execute it.
Recorded ●
"We May Be A Society, But I Am The King Of It"
"For two thousand two hundred and seventy seven days, I left wrestling. I was hired by a place that promised greener land and easy money, but I wasn't informed of the heartache it would cause me. I am what you will be a die hard loyal, that no matter what, no matter the outcome, I was always there and always making a difference in the darkest of times. When there were times a company would be close to shutting down, I had to carry that chip on my shoulder and bring it out from the ashes and back to the sun. And I never got rewarded for it. For a while, that was fine. It was fine because I knew one day, my day would come. Unfortunately in my case, that day never did come. Why? Because I was a druggie. This coke sniffing, needle using, pill popping drunk wasn't made to be a top champion in people's eyes. Even when I got clean, I still looked at by people that were expecting me to relapse and fall under the pressure of wanting to use again.
You want to know why I'm so fucked up in the head? You want to know why? Because of that. Because NOBODY was going to give this rehabilitated loser a chance… until I meet Arik. He given me the chance and I became the most dominant and greatest Gatekeeper Champion of all time. But, even he cannot stop what is going to happen."
"Billy. The dog that was let loose off the leash. The Cottonmouth of True Society, but also the daughter of a well known criminal from the Everglades in South Florida. Yeah, someone who actually done their research on you. Yeah, I know about your family. I know that your father ran the business, then there were you and your brothers, following suit behind him. I know about all the guns, the drugs, the moonshine that was sold by your father. Maybe that explains everything about you Billy. Maybe all that drugs leaked into your skull and affected your mind. Maybe your daddy used you as a fucking lab rat, stuck you with every needle and made you snort up everything, smoke everything, and that made you a fucked up cunt that you are today. Or, maybe it was the death of your father that one day. Yeah, I even saw the news report. Your dad died on a hunting trip that you and your brother went on with him. Shockingly, no cause was really detailed in how he died, but you think about it, you and your brother, a Mr. Bo Bennett, had a lot that could of been to look forward to. I mean you got Florida up to the bayou of Louisiana in that 'family business' of y'all.
So maybe, maybe that 'accident' wasn't so accidental. Maybe it was your brother, Billy. Maybe he was tired of being second place and decided to put a bullet in the back of papa's head, and when no one batted an eye at it out of fear, he slid into ownership of the business. Or… maybe it was you? Maybe that 'crazed dog' mentality pushed you to the edge and you killed him. You watched his lifeless body crumble beneath you and you loved it. Honestly, maybe all this could why people in Project Honor fear you. Because maybe all this rabid dog like persona scares them. Maybe you being crazy makes people uneasy. But that's the superstars, what about management? Sure, they can fire you, but they could of a long time ago. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if they all woke up with a pig head in their mailboxes as some kind of sick twisted threat. Billy, when we step into that ring, you aren't going to have your family to protect you, and you're not going to have even yourself to protect you. Because when you cross me, I don't mind the thought of me standing there smiling looking at another Bennett buried in dirt."
"Syndicate. Hey Sydney, how's depression treating you? I mean, this isn't a common thing about you now since you've been disappointed and disappointing everyone since day one? I mean, I saw that you and your brother, Colt, were stated by the local paper to be the best amateur wrestlers in your weight divisions, and your brother won the State Division Championship, but you didn’t. It wasn't because you lost, it was because you got injured, and no, not in a wrestling exhibition no. You got hurt playing on a trampoline. Your ass got DDT'd and you went through the trampoline like some fatass heavyweight and you got hurt, pretty fucking bad. But hey, at your brother became a success there! But at least in twenty thirteen you signed some bullshit contract with 'World Wrestling existence', to which to be fair, you won the World Championship nine times, also losing it nine times. But your eight years there is great, but let's be honest, you were never the top star there. Because just like with your brother, you were always second place there.
Hell, you saw yourself as a Wrestling God there, didn't you? Hell, you acted like a you were suppose to be some kind of savior. But because of what you've done, you became a arrogant piece of shit that nobody wanted, not even your own blood. Not even the reason you became that. So now, you 'achieve' that in your mind, you quit. You took your ball and went home. And honestly, you should of stayed gone, but nope, you came back against the wishes of everyone who cares about your mental health and here comes Project Fucking Honor. You came here and proved that you were overhyped in a small pond like WWX. Losses after losses but somehow Christian DeMarco still felt like you were owed a opportunity, so he booked you in a match and you won, becoming the Number One Contender for the Legacy Championship. But even that wasn't enough for you because you were up and ready to quit again. Like you did WWX and like you did your own family when you left them again, being selfish in wanting people to respect your name. But, I must give you an ounce of credit, because you did go and beat Elena DeDraca, credit she was becoming shit at that point after her match versus Jason Long and has been shit since coming back, and became the Legacy Champion. The fucking jobber of the century becoming the Legacy Champion. No one cared in your small circle however since your wife wanted your ass to quit again and think about the family while everyone else saw checks and dollar signs. By the way, your wife is hot, it must suck leaving a beautiful woman like that at home, knowing damn well there could be some… lonely feelings looming in her head. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised y'all relationship became another statistic: she fucks some other dude, becomes happy, and dumps your ass, taking half of everything. Half your money, and half your happiness, because the other half was taken by Ozymandias when he beat you for the Legacy Championship. Come on, you had one job and you blew it.
How could you let that steroid abusing ape take the title? You lost a title from True Society first, then you allowed yourself to get knocked out by your own teammate and lose your briefcase after having to win it in the Purge from Jason. Now look at you, you're nothing more than a walking suicide case. Honestly, I think at this point, everyone does want you to off yourself. But you won't have the opportunity to do so. Because SYDNEY PRESCOTT THIS IS GOING TO BE A SCREAM BABY! Unfortunately, you will be the Sydney that gets gutted by the king of horror."
"Havoc. Hello Christopher Sabertooth. Man grew up excited to become a professional wrestler, but yet, almost lost all that. How was those few months in jail? Hope you didn't drop the soap? I say this because I found out about that wrestler at an event you were at that was killed and you got arrested for it. If you did it or not I wouldn't be shocked if you did because he wouldn't put your ass over. But, as luck would have it, the one person who wanted your 'innocence' proven gets capped by some local thug. Boy that must of driven you fucking crazy. Even when you got out, it must have sent you over the edge knowing that you were the reason your best friend died.
Then you came back to wrestling and continued trying your hardest! But you just couldn't do it. And that must have helped you snap, because the next I found out is that whatever Havoc is, he came to our knowledge. By the sounds of it, by how he spoke before, he was a lost soul that needed help. Man oh man, how lucky you got Chris, because with Havoc, I wonder if you ever thought what would happen to you without him. Maybe be dead yourself.
And when you finally start getting success as Sabertooth, guess what happens? Havoc took control of you Chris. You can't fight what's stronger. Face it, Havoc is why you're even considered a top talent of the current generation. If he wasn't here, you would be NOTHING! NOTHING! NOTHING NOTHING NOTHING NOTHING! NOOOOOOOOOOOTTTTTTTHHHHHHIIIIINNNNGGGG!!!! I want you to remember that Havoc, Christopher, whoever you're going to be at Fallout, but Prime Champion or not, I'm going to make a prime example out of you. If you show up as Christopher Sabertooth, then this is going to be a walk in the park. If this is Havoc, then, from one demon foot soldier to another, I will have the time of my life exposing you, Havoc. I will have the time of my life watching you fade away and classify yourself obsolete, watching Chris appear, scared, and wanting mercy on his soul. But there will be no mercy Christopher."
"This is the True Society Throne Of Blood! And nobody is more blood hungry in this match like I am. There is only one true place at the top and that's for me. Not Billy, not Sydney, not Chrissy. While you all may be the best odds of winning, just like always, the addict gets his fix, and when I grab that crown, sit on my throne, and place my feet on your bodies, then you will know your true King of Society."
You want to know why I'm so fucked up in the head? You want to know why? Because of that. Because NOBODY was going to give this rehabilitated loser a chance… until I meet Arik. He given me the chance and I became the most dominant and greatest Gatekeeper Champion of all time. But, even he cannot stop what is going to happen."
"Billy. The dog that was let loose off the leash. The Cottonmouth of True Society, but also the daughter of a well known criminal from the Everglades in South Florida. Yeah, someone who actually done their research on you. Yeah, I know about your family. I know that your father ran the business, then there were you and your brothers, following suit behind him. I know about all the guns, the drugs, the moonshine that was sold by your father. Maybe that explains everything about you Billy. Maybe all that drugs leaked into your skull and affected your mind. Maybe your daddy used you as a fucking lab rat, stuck you with every needle and made you snort up everything, smoke everything, and that made you a fucked up cunt that you are today. Or, maybe it was the death of your father that one day. Yeah, I even saw the news report. Your dad died on a hunting trip that you and your brother went on with him. Shockingly, no cause was really detailed in how he died, but you think about it, you and your brother, a Mr. Bo Bennett, had a lot that could of been to look forward to. I mean you got Florida up to the bayou of Louisiana in that 'family business' of y'all.
So maybe, maybe that 'accident' wasn't so accidental. Maybe it was your brother, Billy. Maybe he was tired of being second place and decided to put a bullet in the back of papa's head, and when no one batted an eye at it out of fear, he slid into ownership of the business. Or… maybe it was you? Maybe that 'crazed dog' mentality pushed you to the edge and you killed him. You watched his lifeless body crumble beneath you and you loved it. Honestly, maybe all this could why people in Project Honor fear you. Because maybe all this rabid dog like persona scares them. Maybe you being crazy makes people uneasy. But that's the superstars, what about management? Sure, they can fire you, but they could of a long time ago. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if they all woke up with a pig head in their mailboxes as some kind of sick twisted threat. Billy, when we step into that ring, you aren't going to have your family to protect you, and you're not going to have even yourself to protect you. Because when you cross me, I don't mind the thought of me standing there smiling looking at another Bennett buried in dirt."
"Syndicate. Hey Sydney, how's depression treating you? I mean, this isn't a common thing about you now since you've been disappointed and disappointing everyone since day one? I mean, I saw that you and your brother, Colt, were stated by the local paper to be the best amateur wrestlers in your weight divisions, and your brother won the State Division Championship, but you didn’t. It wasn't because you lost, it was because you got injured, and no, not in a wrestling exhibition no. You got hurt playing on a trampoline. Your ass got DDT'd and you went through the trampoline like some fatass heavyweight and you got hurt, pretty fucking bad. But hey, at your brother became a success there! But at least in twenty thirteen you signed some bullshit contract with 'World Wrestling existence', to which to be fair, you won the World Championship nine times, also losing it nine times. But your eight years there is great, but let's be honest, you were never the top star there. Because just like with your brother, you were always second place there.
Hell, you saw yourself as a Wrestling God there, didn't you? Hell, you acted like a you were suppose to be some kind of savior. But because of what you've done, you became a arrogant piece of shit that nobody wanted, not even your own blood. Not even the reason you became that. So now, you 'achieve' that in your mind, you quit. You took your ball and went home. And honestly, you should of stayed gone, but nope, you came back against the wishes of everyone who cares about your mental health and here comes Project Fucking Honor. You came here and proved that you were overhyped in a small pond like WWX. Losses after losses but somehow Christian DeMarco still felt like you were owed a opportunity, so he booked you in a match and you won, becoming the Number One Contender for the Legacy Championship. But even that wasn't enough for you because you were up and ready to quit again. Like you did WWX and like you did your own family when you left them again, being selfish in wanting people to respect your name. But, I must give you an ounce of credit, because you did go and beat Elena DeDraca, credit she was becoming shit at that point after her match versus Jason Long and has been shit since coming back, and became the Legacy Champion. The fucking jobber of the century becoming the Legacy Champion. No one cared in your small circle however since your wife wanted your ass to quit again and think about the family while everyone else saw checks and dollar signs. By the way, your wife is hot, it must suck leaving a beautiful woman like that at home, knowing damn well there could be some… lonely feelings looming in her head. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised y'all relationship became another statistic: she fucks some other dude, becomes happy, and dumps your ass, taking half of everything. Half your money, and half your happiness, because the other half was taken by Ozymandias when he beat you for the Legacy Championship. Come on, you had one job and you blew it.
How could you let that steroid abusing ape take the title? You lost a title from True Society first, then you allowed yourself to get knocked out by your own teammate and lose your briefcase after having to win it in the Purge from Jason. Now look at you, you're nothing more than a walking suicide case. Honestly, I think at this point, everyone does want you to off yourself. But you won't have the opportunity to do so. Because SYDNEY PRESCOTT THIS IS GOING TO BE A SCREAM BABY! Unfortunately, you will be the Sydney that gets gutted by the king of horror."
"Havoc. Hello Christopher Sabertooth. Man grew up excited to become a professional wrestler, but yet, almost lost all that. How was those few months in jail? Hope you didn't drop the soap? I say this because I found out about that wrestler at an event you were at that was killed and you got arrested for it. If you did it or not I wouldn't be shocked if you did because he wouldn't put your ass over. But, as luck would have it, the one person who wanted your 'innocence' proven gets capped by some local thug. Boy that must of driven you fucking crazy. Even when you got out, it must have sent you over the edge knowing that you were the reason your best friend died.
Then you came back to wrestling and continued trying your hardest! But you just couldn't do it. And that must have helped you snap, because the next I found out is that whatever Havoc is, he came to our knowledge. By the sounds of it, by how he spoke before, he was a lost soul that needed help. Man oh man, how lucky you got Chris, because with Havoc, I wonder if you ever thought what would happen to you without him. Maybe be dead yourself.
And when you finally start getting success as Sabertooth, guess what happens? Havoc took control of you Chris. You can't fight what's stronger. Face it, Havoc is why you're even considered a top talent of the current generation. If he wasn't here, you would be NOTHING! NOTHING! NOTHING NOTHING NOTHING NOTHING! NOOOOOOOOOOOTTTTTTTHHHHHHIIIIINNNNGGGG!!!! I want you to remember that Havoc, Christopher, whoever you're going to be at Fallout, but Prime Champion or not, I'm going to make a prime example out of you. If you show up as Christopher Sabertooth, then this is going to be a walk in the park. If this is Havoc, then, from one demon foot soldier to another, I will have the time of my life exposing you, Havoc. I will have the time of my life watching you fade away and classify yourself obsolete, watching Chris appear, scared, and wanting mercy on his soul. But there will be no mercy Christopher."
"This is the True Society Throne Of Blood! And nobody is more blood hungry in this match like I am. There is only one true place at the top and that's for me. Not Billy, not Sydney, not Chrissy. While you all may be the best odds of winning, just like always, the addict gets his fix, and when I grab that crown, sit on my throne, and place my feet on your bodies, then you will know your true King of Society."
Unrecorded ■
Later within the day, Angelo, getting everything off his mind, sits in his hotel room on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor below, his back still burning from the evening whipping he got. Now he must be prepared for Fal- "Hello brother." Angelo looks and sees no one in the room with him. He stands up and looks around. "Behind you." Angelo spins around and looks into the hotel mirror. He then smirks some. "Hello…. Sister."
In the reflection of the mirror is the reflection of a female, and the one named Abigail, the one Angelo murdered when they were younger. "How are you brother?" Angelo smirks as he walks closer to the window. "Oh, just lovely. How's heaven?" She chuckles. "Cozy. Come on, you know you still have to explain yourself for why you did little brother." "I do Abigail, but not today. But, I do miss you. Maybe one day, we'll be together again." "Maybe one day. I love you Antonio." "... you too Abigail." Suddenly, she vanishes. Now, Angelo is alone again. With a sigh, Angelo leans on the window, everything ends as Angelo gets focused on becoming king.
In the reflection of the mirror is the reflection of a female, and the one named Abigail, the one Angelo murdered when they were younger. "How are you brother?" Angelo smirks as he walks closer to the window. "Oh, just lovely. How's heaven?" She chuckles. "Cozy. Come on, you know you still have to explain yourself for why you did little brother." "I do Abigail, but not today. But, I do miss you. Maybe one day, we'll be together again." "Maybe one day. I love you Antonio." "... you too Abigail." Suddenly, she vanishes. Now, Angelo is alone again. With a sigh, Angelo leans on the window, everything ends as Angelo gets focused on becoming king.