Journey to Wolfslair:Chapter 2 New Beginnings Part 1.
Feb 24, 2021 17:27:25 GMT -5
Jason Long and OZYMANDIAS like this
Post by Aiden Reynolds on Feb 24, 2021 17:27:25 GMT -5
New Beginnings.
People throw that term around. Every single year as the date clicks over, people talk about supposed “new year, new me”. They make resolutions and promises to themselves that they have full intentions of keeping. At least, at first. But as the days turn into weeks and months, those changes fade away and old habits that should have died slowly creep back in to the forefront.
But what happens if you embrace the grind?
What happens if that new beginning actually sticks and you decide to embrace the change, to trust and grow as a human being?
It’s hard. Fuck, it’s hard.
There is no denying that. Human nature makes you set in your ways. It keeps you staying comfortable and complacent. But as time goes on, you realise you can’t be a victim to these base feelings and should break free from the chains. Sometimes even...learn to trust again.
Enter the Pack
It felt like the first day of high school. Butterflies ran through his stomach as he sat out the front. A bottle of water crackled in his hands as he took a sip and shook his head, realising how stupid this was. He was a grown ass man. In his mid-twenties. He had been around the world and lived in Japan for the last two years. So, why was it so difficult? Why did he feel sick?. Why was he nervous? It ran through his mind over and over again like a ticking clock, but instead of the tick-tock, it was those questions replaying themselves in his mind.
Aiden’s nostrils flared and he took a long deep breath in and stood up.
He moved across the street, carrying his bag at his side. His eyes glanced up and around the building. It was a nondescript warehouse in an industrial area of New York City. The painted brick walls stretched up to the sky almost endlessly, an eggshell white layer coating the older building’s traditional red and orange. Aiden let out a sigh, wondering if this was indeed the place. His eyes darted from side to side before finding telltale signs. Large truck tires, sledgehammers sitting against the wall-- a large roller door that was pulled up and open to let air in as fit and athletic-looking people roamed about.
But the big kicker was the giant sign above the roller door that read “Wolfslair”. Aiden chuckled quietly to himself as he bypassed the gym floor, moving around the path to the ramp at the opposite end so he could avoid and also not distract everyone working out. Gym etiquette was still something he had ingrained in him. He sighed heavily and pulled open the large glass door, making his way to the office. Sitting behind a desk to the side was a woman with long, dirty blond hair. Her make up was flawless and impeccable. He had the strange feeling he’d seen her somewhere before and swallowed hard before clearing his throat.
The woman looked up and gave him a small smile before getting to her feet and moving around to the lead desk. “Hi, can I help you?”
His throat went dry; everything he wanted to say had escaped from his mind. After an awkward few moments, he shook his head and dropped his gym back to the side. “Uh, I’m Aiden Reynolds, Alex Jones gave me this card.” He pulled the small, glossed piece of paper from his pocket and slid it forward. The woman gave a small nod as she took it, before pulling out some papers putting them down in front of Aiden.
Aidens eyes darted down then back up as she placed a pen on top of them. “Well, Aiden, my name is Sonja. I occasionally train some of these savages and handle a lot of the contracts and legal paperwork.” A trainer, a lawyer? Wait, Sonja?. Aiden’s mind flashed; he’d seen her before, a few years previous. She’d definitely been in the ring. He raised an eyebrow, staring at her as Sonja sighed and pulled out another paper, putting it on top of the pile. “If you’re going to stare like a fish gasping for air, maybe you should just ask all your questions, dear.”
He stumbled over his words, still nervous, still feeling like a teenager who transferred school mid-semester. “Sorry, I just, I feel like I’ve seen you in the ring is all.” Sonja gave a nod and shrugged before smiling and pushing the papers towards him. Aiden looked down to study them. Medical releases, training schedules, membership information. His heart sank as he shook his head. Sonja looked up from the other paperwork she obviously had piled up.
“Is there a problem, pup?”
Pup? It ran through his head for a moment before he laughed and shook his head. “Look, Alex told me to come by and have a little look- I ain’t said I’m gonna join, eh?”
Sonja stared a hole right through him. The seconds ticked by, but felt like hours. She was studying him, looking directly into his eyes and it made Aiden nervous. Even more nervous than before. In fact, he had gone from an awkward teenager in middle school to a child just out of diapers starting Kindergarten in about 20 seconds of eye contact. But Sonja had that effect on people. “Who hurt you, pup?”
Oh shit….
“What? I-”
She put her hand up, Aiden stopped talking immediately. Sonja sighed heavily and stood up straight. It was at this moment Aiden realised just how fit Sonja was. She stood about five-eight, she looked like she could get in the ring now and take apart any of the women he knew and also most of the men. And what was worse was that she had a steely-eyed glare that seemed to reach into your chest and pull out any insecurity you have and hold a mirror to it. “My boy, if Alex gave you a card, it means he sees something in you. Now, you have a choice.” She paused for a moment gesturing towards the door. “You can leave, and regret an opportunity like this...or...” Her hand shifted along with her eyes towards the inside of the gym. “You can get your cute, but annoying little butt in there and learn how to wrestle.”
Learn how to wrestle? Aiden felt his chest puff out, he went to open his mouth and he went to say something incredibly foolhardy and stupid. After all, he had been wrestling for the last seven years, he had been to Europe, Japan and all over Mexico and the United States. But, something stopped him, almost as if there was an inner voice, one that realised this would be a stupid idea. Instead, Aiden reached down, grabbing his gym bag in one hand and the papers and pen in the other. “Yes...ma’am…”
She shot a small grin at him as he stepped through the door. “Another stray? Nice one, Alex…”
He moved out onto the floor of the gym. It was impressive inside, he had to admit. A large expanse filled with grappling mats, a weight room, a media room and two rings. Aiden raised an eyebrow and found himself wanting to get ready and train, to jump in with any number of the students. His eyes met a large man over the other side of the room. Austin James Mercer. Aiden swallowed hard - he was six-foot-six and two-hundred and sixty-five pounds and looked like he was ready to end someone’s career. He moved around the ring with agility and footwork that someone his size just shouldn’t have. In the opposite ring with a few other women was Alicia Lukas, someone else he recognised. She ducked down, picked a leg and tripped up a trainee with ease.
Aiden stepped forward and walked down around the mats before colliding with someone, fumbling slightly. He stepped back and looked down: a small, very well built, tattooed blond woman stared up at him from the floor. “Oh shit, darl, I’m sorry, I-”
“Look where you’re going, you fucking meathead.” She slapped away his hand standing up, she was about five-five, her long dreaded hair was tied back and she snared her words with a German accent before shoving passed him. Aiden was unable to say anything, shocked by the reaction. He shook his head and sighed before turning back around.
“Hey Aiden…”
The voice of Alex Jones cut through the gym, he moved around the backside of the ring to meet him, holding out his hand for a handshake. “Glad you made it. I see you met Johanna - don’t worry, she’ll warm up to you, let’s get you a locker and-”
“Mate...” Aiden stopped. He shook his head and sighed looking down at the papers in his hand. “Alex, I appreciate this, but I just came to try it out, ya know? Not sure if I want to take that step.”
Alex gave the Australian a small smile as he stepped forward before reaching out and placing the palm of his hand on Aiden’s shoulder. “Aiden, I asked you here because I can see the talent. It’s undeniable. I’ll be straight up with you: I didn’t just want you here because I think we can teach you something. I think you can help us too. You can help the others get better.”
It hit him, Alex wasn’t just looking at Aiden as a cog in the machine. Alex was being straight-up, putting him as a viable and important member, should he choose to join. He looked over at the rings, the mats and everyone inside the gym moving, training, laughing. He needed that, wanted that.
But could he trust it?
“It’s up to you kid, locker room is that way, pick an empty one, sign the papers my wife gave you...and then go to one of the rings if you want.”
He smiled again, tapping Aiden on the shoulder before jogging back towards the rings high-fiving Austin and talking to him about the two trainees in the ring. Aiden sighed heavily and looked down at the papers again. He smiled and turned, putting them down on a bench signing the bottom.
“I guess...I’m a wolf…”
Back In The Saddle Again, Eh?
It was a passable day in Paris, France. Grey skies hung overhead with small sprinkles of rain dropping down as we come across the famous and ancient cathedral of Notre Dame. Tourists who have braved travel restrictions and Coronavirus outbreaks walk the limestone streets as we find Aiden Reynolds...oh, wait. No, that’s Ozzy-man-dius and Dickie Watson standing outside the beautiful historical area. But, all is not well as the masked man standing in a black hoodie and jeans handing out pamphlets.
“The Great Cunt-hulu, the drowned Dog is your Dark Lord and savior. Embrace him, for he will help you three to four times a year!”
Aiden’s voice carries across the religious zone. Dickie taps his foot, full of attitude and indignation as Aiden continues.
“Do we really have to do this bit? I get it, bruv, you’re feeling down about the Legacy Chamber, but this is a bit much. Aren’t you worried what Ozymandias will say?”
“Look, mate, I don’t care what happens. I’m here for the Great Cunt-hulu. And besides ain’t nobody - NOBODY - gonna be harder on me but meself.”
“Except whoever you found on Grindr…”
Aiden stops handing out pamphlets for a split second and turns his head. Dickie seems to be able to feel his eyes narrow behind the white mask that totally isn’t just a paper plate he cut eye, nose and mouth holes out of. After a moment, a small priest, balding, short, and slightly hunched over walks past Aiden and stops. His lopsided eyes stare the mask-wearer down demeaningly.
“You should not be here, you are instigating people against the one true god, our lord and savior and his son Jesus Christ. BEGONE!” His oppressive words carried a French accent with them.
“OI! Shouldn’t you be hobblin up in that fuckin’ tower ringin’ the bell while screamin’ SANC-TU-ARY or some shit?”
“AIDEN!”
“WOT?”
And with, that the priest sprays Aiden with water from a spray bottle -- holy water. Aiden shakes his head but then leaps forward, hissing like a cat, causing the priest to scamper away.
“The fuck was that? Are you a cat now?” Dickie groans, shaking his head.
Aiden shakes his head, but across the courtyard over the other side of the street, he raises an eyebrow as he notices a small school. Kinda weird being so close to a church, but regardless…. There’s a sand pit, and Aiden's stomach gurgles right on cue.
“OI, HEY HEY, NO HEY….Don’t even think about it.”
He stopped and rolled his eyes before looking up at the camera, breaking the fourth wall, but also signalling that the actual “promo” was about to begin.
“Let’s get this out of the way early. I choked. Come on, laugh it up, eh? Aiden Reynolds went four and zip, he went and beat some of the best this goddamn company had to offer. But when it got to the damn Legacy Chamber, Aiden dropped down to his knees, opened his mouth, and-”
“AIDEN!”
“I choked. Ok, I choked hard. But, at least I got there right? At least I got to that match, which is something not many people can say and despite the fact I got the boot first, I did what a real competitor does. I got up, I dusted meself off, I congratulated Elena DeDraca for her historic win in becoming the first Legacy Champion and I got ready to get right back in the ring. I didn’t throw a tantrum, I didn’t null and void my contract and run off like a child. Nah, cause that ain’t me. I went back to the hotel, I popped open a beer, I switched on my Playstation 5 - cause I was able to get one...haha suck it - and I played some Call of Duty…..for three days straight…”
“When my little pity party was over, I got right back in the gym and started getting ready for me next match. A match where I get to go up against a powerhouse in Project Honor, a masked lump of meat. Ozymandias. And man, was I ever worried about this one. Hold on…”
Aiden reaches up and slowly pulls the mask he’s been wearing off. And by mask, I mean a paper plate he found at the hotel and cut holes in. He’s on a budget guys, c’mon.
“Man that’s better. How the hell do you wear a mask constantly like that, mate? My face was sweating like John Nash Strader hangin’ out near a middle school.”
Dickie’s jaw just drops as he seems like he’s about to say something. Instead the Grand Champion just throws his hands in the air in defeat. There’s no stopping Aiden, and he knew it.
“Thing is Ozy, we all know the things we can see, right? We all know you’re a giant powerhouse, we all know you’re like a wrecking ball and we all know you now have a huge issue with Shawn Warstein after he snatched that opportunity from you to become the Tyrant. But, before you can get your hands on Warstein, you have a match against me. Two chokers one on one. Two blokes who choked like those girls in Japanese Tentacle Hentai that I suspect makes little Ozy flicker.”
“It’s all very Lovecraftian, eh?”
“But mate, I don’t get why you’re so enthralled with THAT drowned god. The giant tentacle faced, deus ex machina written by a manic depressive anti-semite geek who married a woman, said she was the love of his bloody life and left her cause his aunties said so. There’s a much better one in the Game of Thrones universe, written by a happy jolly procrastination Santa.”
“But therein lies the issue with you, mate. See, the most interesting things about you are ripped off from other places. Your whole Chthulu thing, your name. Mate, what about you is original? Shit, your body looks like it was made in a lab. But under all that, under the monotonal delivery and sleep-inducing bullshit is an athlete, is a fuckin monster. Don’t think I didn’t see what you did in the Tyrant Match.”
He pauses and gives a small nod.
“You ran through the field like Godzilla knocking down buildings. The only thing that could stop you was runnin’ into one of the current tag team champions. Not to mention the ass kickin you gave poor Patty. Because of you, me fuckin Amazon packages stopped coming. But nah mate, I’m not going to go down that stupid road of trying to run you down. That would make me look like an idiot. And despite the fact I spent nine days wearing a mask in preparation for this match, well, I’m not stupid, Ozymandias.”
The tone and feel changes. Aiden stands up straight and shakes his head.
“I’m a damn good professional wrestler. The first word in that seems to have been overlooked a little lately. But I can tell you right now, mate, I’m still one of the best in the company and the world. I am not gonna let one loss define me or who I am. In fact, while I know Elena’s first challenger for that Legacy title is on Fallout, I am going to be gunning to get an opportunity when the champion, whether that is Elena or not, has to come to Proving Ground.”
“This is where you come in, Ozy.”
“See, a win against you - the bloke who has been terrorising all those other companies and who destroyed Pat and half the Proving Ground roster - a win like that would keep me in the public eye and would remind everyone that I am as good as I bloody well believe I am. You can bring your big ass down to that ring, and we will go at it one-on-one and you, my friend, are going to find out what others have...that Aiden Reynolds is the real deal.”
He smirks and relaxes a little taking a deep breath in as he looks around at the beautiful streets before turning back to look at the cathedral. Aiden’s face suddenly turns pale, he shuffles to the side near Dickie.
“We gotta go, D…”
“What? Why?”
Aiden taps him in the chest and points to a group of men near the entrance.
“They found us...THEY FOUND US, DICKIE…”
“Who?”
“THE CULT...THE CULT OF CTHULHU…”
Dickie looks over in the direction Aiden is pointing and shakes his head.
“Aiden..those are benedictine monks...we’re near a cathedr-”
“JUST MOVE DICKIE.”
Aiden takes off running, almost knocking over an older woman, Dickie steadies her and sighs, watching Aiden run down the streets of Paris.
“Sorry I...I gotta go catch him...he needs his meds…”
People throw that term around. Every single year as the date clicks over, people talk about supposed “new year, new me”. They make resolutions and promises to themselves that they have full intentions of keeping. At least, at first. But as the days turn into weeks and months, those changes fade away and old habits that should have died slowly creep back in to the forefront.
But what happens if you embrace the grind?
What happens if that new beginning actually sticks and you decide to embrace the change, to trust and grow as a human being?
It’s hard. Fuck, it’s hard.
There is no denying that. Human nature makes you set in your ways. It keeps you staying comfortable and complacent. But as time goes on, you realise you can’t be a victim to these base feelings and should break free from the chains. Sometimes even...learn to trust again.
Enter the Pack
It felt like the first day of high school. Butterflies ran through his stomach as he sat out the front. A bottle of water crackled in his hands as he took a sip and shook his head, realising how stupid this was. He was a grown ass man. In his mid-twenties. He had been around the world and lived in Japan for the last two years. So, why was it so difficult? Why did he feel sick?. Why was he nervous? It ran through his mind over and over again like a ticking clock, but instead of the tick-tock, it was those questions replaying themselves in his mind.
Aiden’s nostrils flared and he took a long deep breath in and stood up.
He moved across the street, carrying his bag at his side. His eyes glanced up and around the building. It was a nondescript warehouse in an industrial area of New York City. The painted brick walls stretched up to the sky almost endlessly, an eggshell white layer coating the older building’s traditional red and orange. Aiden let out a sigh, wondering if this was indeed the place. His eyes darted from side to side before finding telltale signs. Large truck tires, sledgehammers sitting against the wall-- a large roller door that was pulled up and open to let air in as fit and athletic-looking people roamed about.
But the big kicker was the giant sign above the roller door that read “Wolfslair”. Aiden chuckled quietly to himself as he bypassed the gym floor, moving around the path to the ramp at the opposite end so he could avoid and also not distract everyone working out. Gym etiquette was still something he had ingrained in him. He sighed heavily and pulled open the large glass door, making his way to the office. Sitting behind a desk to the side was a woman with long, dirty blond hair. Her make up was flawless and impeccable. He had the strange feeling he’d seen her somewhere before and swallowed hard before clearing his throat.
The woman looked up and gave him a small smile before getting to her feet and moving around to the lead desk. “Hi, can I help you?”
His throat went dry; everything he wanted to say had escaped from his mind. After an awkward few moments, he shook his head and dropped his gym back to the side. “Uh, I’m Aiden Reynolds, Alex Jones gave me this card.” He pulled the small, glossed piece of paper from his pocket and slid it forward. The woman gave a small nod as she took it, before pulling out some papers putting them down in front of Aiden.
Aidens eyes darted down then back up as she placed a pen on top of them. “Well, Aiden, my name is Sonja. I occasionally train some of these savages and handle a lot of the contracts and legal paperwork.” A trainer, a lawyer? Wait, Sonja?. Aiden’s mind flashed; he’d seen her before, a few years previous. She’d definitely been in the ring. He raised an eyebrow, staring at her as Sonja sighed and pulled out another paper, putting it on top of the pile. “If you’re going to stare like a fish gasping for air, maybe you should just ask all your questions, dear.”
He stumbled over his words, still nervous, still feeling like a teenager who transferred school mid-semester. “Sorry, I just, I feel like I’ve seen you in the ring is all.” Sonja gave a nod and shrugged before smiling and pushing the papers towards him. Aiden looked down to study them. Medical releases, training schedules, membership information. His heart sank as he shook his head. Sonja looked up from the other paperwork she obviously had piled up.
“Is there a problem, pup?”
Pup? It ran through his head for a moment before he laughed and shook his head. “Look, Alex told me to come by and have a little look- I ain’t said I’m gonna join, eh?”
Sonja stared a hole right through him. The seconds ticked by, but felt like hours. She was studying him, looking directly into his eyes and it made Aiden nervous. Even more nervous than before. In fact, he had gone from an awkward teenager in middle school to a child just out of diapers starting Kindergarten in about 20 seconds of eye contact. But Sonja had that effect on people. “Who hurt you, pup?”
Oh shit….
“What? I-”
She put her hand up, Aiden stopped talking immediately. Sonja sighed heavily and stood up straight. It was at this moment Aiden realised just how fit Sonja was. She stood about five-eight, she looked like she could get in the ring now and take apart any of the women he knew and also most of the men. And what was worse was that she had a steely-eyed glare that seemed to reach into your chest and pull out any insecurity you have and hold a mirror to it. “My boy, if Alex gave you a card, it means he sees something in you. Now, you have a choice.” She paused for a moment gesturing towards the door. “You can leave, and regret an opportunity like this...or...” Her hand shifted along with her eyes towards the inside of the gym. “You can get your cute, but annoying little butt in there and learn how to wrestle.”
Learn how to wrestle? Aiden felt his chest puff out, he went to open his mouth and he went to say something incredibly foolhardy and stupid. After all, he had been wrestling for the last seven years, he had been to Europe, Japan and all over Mexico and the United States. But, something stopped him, almost as if there was an inner voice, one that realised this would be a stupid idea. Instead, Aiden reached down, grabbing his gym bag in one hand and the papers and pen in the other. “Yes...ma’am…”
She shot a small grin at him as he stepped through the door. “Another stray? Nice one, Alex…”
He moved out onto the floor of the gym. It was impressive inside, he had to admit. A large expanse filled with grappling mats, a weight room, a media room and two rings. Aiden raised an eyebrow and found himself wanting to get ready and train, to jump in with any number of the students. His eyes met a large man over the other side of the room. Austin James Mercer. Aiden swallowed hard - he was six-foot-six and two-hundred and sixty-five pounds and looked like he was ready to end someone’s career. He moved around the ring with agility and footwork that someone his size just shouldn’t have. In the opposite ring with a few other women was Alicia Lukas, someone else he recognised. She ducked down, picked a leg and tripped up a trainee with ease.
Aiden stepped forward and walked down around the mats before colliding with someone, fumbling slightly. He stepped back and looked down: a small, very well built, tattooed blond woman stared up at him from the floor. “Oh shit, darl, I’m sorry, I-”
“Look where you’re going, you fucking meathead.” She slapped away his hand standing up, she was about five-five, her long dreaded hair was tied back and she snared her words with a German accent before shoving passed him. Aiden was unable to say anything, shocked by the reaction. He shook his head and sighed before turning back around.
“Hey Aiden…”
The voice of Alex Jones cut through the gym, he moved around the backside of the ring to meet him, holding out his hand for a handshake. “Glad you made it. I see you met Johanna - don’t worry, she’ll warm up to you, let’s get you a locker and-”
“Mate...” Aiden stopped. He shook his head and sighed looking down at the papers in his hand. “Alex, I appreciate this, but I just came to try it out, ya know? Not sure if I want to take that step.”
Alex gave the Australian a small smile as he stepped forward before reaching out and placing the palm of his hand on Aiden’s shoulder. “Aiden, I asked you here because I can see the talent. It’s undeniable. I’ll be straight up with you: I didn’t just want you here because I think we can teach you something. I think you can help us too. You can help the others get better.”
It hit him, Alex wasn’t just looking at Aiden as a cog in the machine. Alex was being straight-up, putting him as a viable and important member, should he choose to join. He looked over at the rings, the mats and everyone inside the gym moving, training, laughing. He needed that, wanted that.
But could he trust it?
“It’s up to you kid, locker room is that way, pick an empty one, sign the papers my wife gave you...and then go to one of the rings if you want.”
He smiled again, tapping Aiden on the shoulder before jogging back towards the rings high-fiving Austin and talking to him about the two trainees in the ring. Aiden sighed heavily and looked down at the papers again. He smiled and turned, putting them down on a bench signing the bottom.
“I guess...I’m a wolf…”
Back In The Saddle Again, Eh?
It was a passable day in Paris, France. Grey skies hung overhead with small sprinkles of rain dropping down as we come across the famous and ancient cathedral of Notre Dame. Tourists who have braved travel restrictions and Coronavirus outbreaks walk the limestone streets as we find Aiden Reynolds...oh, wait. No, that’s Ozzy-man-dius and Dickie Watson standing outside the beautiful historical area. But, all is not well as the masked man standing in a black hoodie and jeans handing out pamphlets.
“The Great Cunt-hulu, the drowned Dog is your Dark Lord and savior. Embrace him, for he will help you three to four times a year!”
Aiden’s voice carries across the religious zone. Dickie taps his foot, full of attitude and indignation as Aiden continues.
“Do we really have to do this bit? I get it, bruv, you’re feeling down about the Legacy Chamber, but this is a bit much. Aren’t you worried what Ozymandias will say?”
“Look, mate, I don’t care what happens. I’m here for the Great Cunt-hulu. And besides ain’t nobody - NOBODY - gonna be harder on me but meself.”
“Except whoever you found on Grindr…”
Aiden stops handing out pamphlets for a split second and turns his head. Dickie seems to be able to feel his eyes narrow behind the white mask that totally isn’t just a paper plate he cut eye, nose and mouth holes out of. After a moment, a small priest, balding, short, and slightly hunched over walks past Aiden and stops. His lopsided eyes stare the mask-wearer down demeaningly.
“You should not be here, you are instigating people against the one true god, our lord and savior and his son Jesus Christ. BEGONE!” His oppressive words carried a French accent with them.
“OI! Shouldn’t you be hobblin up in that fuckin’ tower ringin’ the bell while screamin’ SANC-TU-ARY or some shit?”
“AIDEN!”
“WOT?”
And with, that the priest sprays Aiden with water from a spray bottle -- holy water. Aiden shakes his head but then leaps forward, hissing like a cat, causing the priest to scamper away.
“The fuck was that? Are you a cat now?” Dickie groans, shaking his head.
Aiden shakes his head, but across the courtyard over the other side of the street, he raises an eyebrow as he notices a small school. Kinda weird being so close to a church, but regardless…. There’s a sand pit, and Aiden's stomach gurgles right on cue.
“OI, HEY HEY, NO HEY….Don’t even think about it.”
He stopped and rolled his eyes before looking up at the camera, breaking the fourth wall, but also signalling that the actual “promo” was about to begin.
“Let’s get this out of the way early. I choked. Come on, laugh it up, eh? Aiden Reynolds went four and zip, he went and beat some of the best this goddamn company had to offer. But when it got to the damn Legacy Chamber, Aiden dropped down to his knees, opened his mouth, and-”
“AIDEN!”
“I choked. Ok, I choked hard. But, at least I got there right? At least I got to that match, which is something not many people can say and despite the fact I got the boot first, I did what a real competitor does. I got up, I dusted meself off, I congratulated Elena DeDraca for her historic win in becoming the first Legacy Champion and I got ready to get right back in the ring. I didn’t throw a tantrum, I didn’t null and void my contract and run off like a child. Nah, cause that ain’t me. I went back to the hotel, I popped open a beer, I switched on my Playstation 5 - cause I was able to get one...haha suck it - and I played some Call of Duty…..for three days straight…”
“When my little pity party was over, I got right back in the gym and started getting ready for me next match. A match where I get to go up against a powerhouse in Project Honor, a masked lump of meat. Ozymandias. And man, was I ever worried about this one. Hold on…”
Aiden reaches up and slowly pulls the mask he’s been wearing off. And by mask, I mean a paper plate he found at the hotel and cut holes in. He’s on a budget guys, c’mon.
“Man that’s better. How the hell do you wear a mask constantly like that, mate? My face was sweating like John Nash Strader hangin’ out near a middle school.”
Dickie’s jaw just drops as he seems like he’s about to say something. Instead the Grand Champion just throws his hands in the air in defeat. There’s no stopping Aiden, and he knew it.
“Thing is Ozy, we all know the things we can see, right? We all know you’re a giant powerhouse, we all know you’re like a wrecking ball and we all know you now have a huge issue with Shawn Warstein after he snatched that opportunity from you to become the Tyrant. But, before you can get your hands on Warstein, you have a match against me. Two chokers one on one. Two blokes who choked like those girls in Japanese Tentacle Hentai that I suspect makes little Ozy flicker.”
“It’s all very Lovecraftian, eh?”
“But mate, I don’t get why you’re so enthralled with THAT drowned god. The giant tentacle faced, deus ex machina written by a manic depressive anti-semite geek who married a woman, said she was the love of his bloody life and left her cause his aunties said so. There’s a much better one in the Game of Thrones universe, written by a happy jolly procrastination Santa.”
“But therein lies the issue with you, mate. See, the most interesting things about you are ripped off from other places. Your whole Chthulu thing, your name. Mate, what about you is original? Shit, your body looks like it was made in a lab. But under all that, under the monotonal delivery and sleep-inducing bullshit is an athlete, is a fuckin monster. Don’t think I didn’t see what you did in the Tyrant Match.”
He pauses and gives a small nod.
“You ran through the field like Godzilla knocking down buildings. The only thing that could stop you was runnin’ into one of the current tag team champions. Not to mention the ass kickin you gave poor Patty. Because of you, me fuckin Amazon packages stopped coming. But nah mate, I’m not going to go down that stupid road of trying to run you down. That would make me look like an idiot. And despite the fact I spent nine days wearing a mask in preparation for this match, well, I’m not stupid, Ozymandias.”
The tone and feel changes. Aiden stands up straight and shakes his head.
“I’m a damn good professional wrestler. The first word in that seems to have been overlooked a little lately. But I can tell you right now, mate, I’m still one of the best in the company and the world. I am not gonna let one loss define me or who I am. In fact, while I know Elena’s first challenger for that Legacy title is on Fallout, I am going to be gunning to get an opportunity when the champion, whether that is Elena or not, has to come to Proving Ground.”
“This is where you come in, Ozy.”
“See, a win against you - the bloke who has been terrorising all those other companies and who destroyed Pat and half the Proving Ground roster - a win like that would keep me in the public eye and would remind everyone that I am as good as I bloody well believe I am. You can bring your big ass down to that ring, and we will go at it one-on-one and you, my friend, are going to find out what others have...that Aiden Reynolds is the real deal.”
He smirks and relaxes a little taking a deep breath in as he looks around at the beautiful streets before turning back to look at the cathedral. Aiden’s face suddenly turns pale, he shuffles to the side near Dickie.
“We gotta go, D…”
“What? Why?”
Aiden taps him in the chest and points to a group of men near the entrance.
“They found us...THEY FOUND US, DICKIE…”
“Who?”
“THE CULT...THE CULT OF CTHULHU…”
Dickie looks over in the direction Aiden is pointing and shakes his head.
“Aiden..those are benedictine monks...we’re near a cathedr-”
“JUST MOVE DICKIE.”
Aiden takes off running, almost knocking over an older woman, Dickie steadies her and sighs, watching Aiden run down the streets of Paris.
“Sorry I...I gotta go catch him...he needs his meds…”
