Post by Jason Long on May 18, 2021 22:59:22 GMT -5
What do you want from me? Why don't you run from me? What are you wondering? What do you know? Why aren't you scared of me? Why do you care for me? When we all fall asleep, where do we go? This week was tough. Never before has The King been so nervous in his lifetime, heading into a match with such big proportions -- not just professional but personal too, never has a match been as personal to Jason before in his lifetime -- but nevertheless, it’s only a few days away from Disputed Territory and Jason has been resting at home, resting with the love of his life, and resting before the big event happening this weekend. Again, that nervous feeling inside of him was strong and kept getting stronger the more he thought about it, it was almost hovering over him like a forceful pressure crushing him. Savannah enters the room behind Jason’s back and looks over at him on the couch, leaning forward and sitting silently. “Jason, baby,” her soft-spoken voice calls out to him. “Is everything alright over there?” There’s silence, not a word, and not even a sound, but the loud deep exhale through the nose of Jason is heard. Lifting his head up but not turning it around to face Savannah, he began to speak -- “...it’s hard to tell you exactly how I feel without breaking into tears, darling. For the first time in… forever, I feel at a disadvantage, I feel like the weak one, I feel nervous. If I could tell you the amount of times I’ve sat behind the curtain of a show and felt that same feeling- I would, but the fact is that I’ve never been like this before and it’s just… ugh. I don’t know what to do.” A relapse of life itself, feeling like a flash before his very own eyes, a very rare feeling he’s experienced, not for a long time has he truly felt this way. Savannah quickly made her way over to him, taking a seat right beside him and wrapping her arm around Jason. His right leg was shaking violently, there were tears running down his face, heavy breathing -- he was suffering a panic attack. Jason’s life was never full of these, and any time he’s been in this situation was during moments of fear. He feared facing an old friend. He had some fear for Drago Sanitago. “Baby, I’m here, just calm down, take deep breaths--sweetheart, you’re having a panic attack.” Savannah’s soft-spoken voice calmly whispered into his ear as he began rocking back and forth. “Everything is fine, I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay, everything’s going to be okay. Just stay calm, and take deep breaths-” Her voice got quieter and quieter with every passing second. There was nothing but silence from Jason’s ears, either everything became silence or he’s been blocking out the sound, silencing everyone and blocking himself out of the world. “-hey, hey, wake up, I’m not gonna lose you, you’re okay.” For what felt like seconds, it was hours. Jason opened his eyes and found himself in the local hospital in Canton, the bright lights shining down onto him and doctors monitoring him very closely as they hover over him. Savannah held onto Jason’s hand since the paramedics were called onto the scene. There was a sigh of relief coming over her. He had just seven days to get over this feeling but if one stressful moment can send him to the hospital, then what could happen in the next seven days? “How did I-” A doctor steps up from the foot of the bed, keeping a smile on his face. “You suffered a panic attack and then fainted, leaving you unconscious for a couple of hours. Everything will be fine, Mr Long. We’ll have you out in a short time.” Jason leaned his head back into the pillow, allowing him to relax as the doctor. “Is he okay though? Like, will he be fine after a while?” “Eventually, yes, but he suffered an overdose of paracetamol. He did try to kill himself, Miss Andrews. I’d say keep an eye on him for a few days, he’s got a lot on his mind right now, and being the man he is, and how many fliers of this event are around town.” A momentary pause. “If he does something like that again, he might kill himself before the event comes around.” There’s a brief gasp from Savannah but she holds her composure, glaring over at the resting lover of hers and thinking about what could be his final fate if he’s not careful. This match, against Drago Santiago, was getting to his head -- as much as he might not tell anyone. There’s nervousness, there’s uncertainty, he wasn’t sure if he’d save Project: Honor from the clutches of Drago Santiago -- but to hell with chances, to hell with certainty, he’d die trying than to let someone ruin everything for him. Through the uncertainty was the master plan, something he’s been thinking long and hard about for a very long time for, just for a night like this. Jason was ready, his body might not be, but mentally--he’s prepared for whatever the grim reaper throws his way. Keep you in the dark, what had you expected? Me to make you my art And make you a star and get you connected? I'll meet you in the park I'll be calm and collected But we knew right from the start That you'd fall apart 'cause I'm too expensive Your talk'll be somethin' that shouldn't be said out loud Honestly, I thought that I would be dead by now (Wow) Callin' security, keepin' my head held down Bury the hatchet or bury your friend right now Two years is a long time to truly test a friendship with someone. In the past four years that I’ve been in this ring, working my ass off and training like my life depends on it, I’ve made some good friends along the way. Names like Dylan Black, or maybe even Bobby Barratt and Jack Diamond, old friends of mine and even some new ones, Dickie Watson and MYOJIN. To even the love of my life, the only person I ever need to be there for me, Savannah Sunshine. All of these friends I’ve made along the way, it’s been the greatest few I could ever ask for. The friends I’ve made along the way are who created me to be, the friends I’ve made along the way are the reason why I’m here right now, the friends that I’ve made along the way- they’re what shaped me to be who I am right now. Me? I’m grateful for them, they never thought about putting me in the dirt, even though we’ve fucked around and talked about it like that. But it’s like saying, you keep your friends close and your enemies closer, lest did I know that my closest friend was the one who’d kick me when I was down. I know that in every story, there are two sides. One being the good, one being the bad. Our stories, however, are quite the same. Some of you might see the good, some of you might see the bad, it’s all depending on the side you take. When all of this first began, I never envied it to be as hostile as it has become. I’m aware of what I did during that match, but in my defense, I wanted to protect Savannah at all costs- knowing what he could do, I did my best to distract him, which eventually worked out in the end. Sure, the end result didn’t go to plan for us, but I did what I did. Some say that’s the straw that broke the camel’s back, and frankly, I can see that being a reason but as I’ve said so many times, he didn’t need that to break his trust in me -- something inside of him did it long before I came along. The inner demon won, his mind and body and even his soul lost the war, and it awoke the saint inside of him. It’s not the first time I’ve seen this from him either, I’ve seen it before in the past, a vision of him at his worst, of when I wasn’t around to help him and guide him. I guess a lot can change a man when he’s not guided by the right man, they crumble into ashes or they fall down a darker path than normal. Think about it, doesn’t it all fall into place when you just think about it, doesn’t it all click into place when you just think about it. Thinking about it isn’t the same as just doing it, however, and I’m not one for thinking and then doing. I full fuckin’ send shit and don’t question the process. If that were the case and I did question it, then I wouldn’t be the man you all know today, If I were a man who’d think before speaking, if I were a man who’d think before doing anything, then I’d be the most predictable fucker there is in wrestling today. I was never about the if’s or the speculations, I was a man of when and where’s. Nobody would’ve known my next move, nobody would have known what I’d do next, nobody had a fuckin’ clue. I’ve always loved that feeling of uncertainty that I brought to my opponents, it was a great feeling, a fuckin’ fantastic feeling. They never knew my next move, they never knew what I’d do next, and that was the best part about it, because how the fuck can you outsmart someone you cannot even predict the next move of? That mindset has been through my head for the past couple of weeks now, heading into Disputed Territory, because I’m aware of what this man can bring to the table and I’m aware of what his mind is thinking right now. He’s got a whole lot going on in that head of his, and as someone who’s opened up that mind when I first met him, I realised true potentials, true motives, what makes him kick--and what doesn’t. When you think about it, it’s hard to keep someone down when all they want to do is prove to the world that they are who they are and nothing can stop them. That’s what it’s about, right? I’ve watched people almost kill themselves for some championship gold, I’ve seen friendships form and friendships almost die at the hands of one another fighting, scratching, clawing, and just massacring anyone they see fit. When you watch that, and you’ve been watching for a very long time, it puts the question into your mind of if you’d ever find yourself in that same situation as others have gone through, would you ever become the same as them? Would you ever put yourself in the same shoes as the likes of Dickie Watson and Elena DeDraca? Both of them almost killed one another for the sake of standing over the other, their names written in blood as the victor-- it’s a tempting fate, I’m aware. Friendships are worth dying for, aren’t they? When you’ve known someone for so long, you’d die for them just to save them from whoever tries to harm them. You’d die to save them, you’d die to make sure they’re okay, you’d die to protect them from the dangers that they’re putting onto themselves. Their projections of a new world isn’t what they truly wanted, and you know that because you’ve known them for so long, so the question remains. Are your friends worth dying for? For me, the answer is yes. I’d fight for them, I’d die for them, I’ll meet the devil and tell him to fuck off back to where he belonged. Friendships, to me, are definitely worth dying for. Nathan Sanitago... you’re not worth dying for. You know, when I first laid my eyes on you, Nathan, I knew instantly there was a connection between yourself and I. There was a click in my head, there was something that nobody else could have gotten out of me, that little switch flicked and it got the gears grinding, it got the cogs to start building up steam until -- we became the team we were well-known for. Remember our little time as a team, Nathan? The AWF Icons, nobody was able to touch us, we were fucking unstoppable. So much so, we became Tag Team Champions a month after forming, only two matches in and both in the span of just days of one another, beat the Tag Team Champions twice for their belts. Me and you, Nathan, we set the whole tag team division on fire just like that. I haven’t seen a single team replicate what we did, not that quickly, I can assure you. When people see us together, that’s what they think. That’s what the fans thought of any time we met in the fuckin’ ring, Nathan. “The AWF Icons are in the ring with one another, it’s like old times” they said. It didn’t matter where, it didn’t matter when, it could have been the XHF, it could have been Wrestleworld, it could have been Project: Honor. They all shared the same mantra with one another, and I know you are willing to forget about the past- as well, I know you want me to shut the fuck up about the past, but I’m never going to let go of that, Nathan. Those are memories stuck in my head that I’ll never forgive nor will I ever forget. They changed me, they shaped me to be who I once was, they created me into the man I was back then. To say that you, Nathan, made me a better person back then -- that would be the understatement of the year right there, because you did more than just that, you made me open a third eye I never knew I had. You made me see someone who I didn’t think I’d become so easily, and to this day, I’m still tweaking around to find the right adjustments to create the perfect me. But it all began with you, it began when you showed me a way I never knew I could walk down, since then I’ve seen everything so differently. Nathan, you know that back then, I had one motive and one goal. To become The King, to gain the crown, and to rule the fuckin’ world. How many times have we sat in The Diamond Lounge, drinks in our hands, and resounding smiles on our faces in victory? How many of those days would I say “I want to become The King and rule the fuckin’ world around me” and then spoke about how we could do it together. Me and you, together, we wanted the whole world at our feet and we did during that short amount of time -- we just didn’t soak it in and we wanted something more. Thrones for both of us, thrones for us to indulge in, thrones for both of us to seize the world. Soon enough, around that same timeframe, I began to realise that the man I was--it wasn’t cutting it, and it made me begin to relapse, made me think in ways I never thought I could and it snapped, I wasn’t being the man I was telling everyone. I was telling everyone that I was fuckin’ royalty, I was a spoilt little shit that didn’t care for anyone else around me, and I didn’t care for what purpose I had intended, there was no plan ahead and there was nothing for me to do. That's when I realised that the man I portrayed wasn't the real me, and what was portrayed was something influenced by you. I took time off, wrestled a whole week and did everything before I left you with the proverbial keys to the kingdom. I left because I wanted to escape from you. I left because I had to before you left me to crumble into nothing but ashes. I remember, no- I saw what you did to The Cure, and I know you'd have done the same to me in that same situation. There's no need to lie to me, Nathan, I know you all too well. I know you too well to know that you would've done the same thing to me as you did to Vincent Draven and Dreadvan. They've never been the same since. Deadpan hasn't wrestled since then, and Draven's not been seen since Fired Up last year, so you've a lasting impact on those. I guess the only one who wasn't so much affected was Draven, but then again, didn't you become a vampire when he bit into your neck? I remember that too. I remember it all. I know you might have retconned it in that head of yours but I'm here to make you remember everything you've regretted. Just for those who needed the history lesson though, I might have said that I wasn’t going to dig up the past but I realised that this match was made for us to revolve around our past, our own mistakes, our own regrets. Nathan, you know I’ve made some terrible mistakes and I know you have too, I’m sure you’re sitting back wherever you are figuring out what the fuck to do next, and what’s your next move but mate, I’m four steps ahead of you and you don’t even fuckin’ know it yet. I know right now, you’re going to bring up old news, bring up the past and make me remember every single thing I’ve done that I’ve regretted. I’m aware, Nathan, there’s a whole lot on the plate. But what you made me do back then, what you projected onto me and made me a follower of, hasn’t been seen in a very long time. It’s a past I’ve left buried in the soil, it’s neck sliced open and blood dried into it’s rotting corpse, a fate it met when it came into contact with The King. A same fate many proverbially meet when they come in contact with The King. Bloodshed, violence, and a do or die attitude that’s kept me alive for a very long fuckin’ time now. You might have become the saint, you might have the whole world in your hands, you might be at the peak of the mountain, Nathan, but have you really achieved anything? Your massive losses became small victories which is what led you to the Prime Championship being handed to you. Those wins you’ve gotten since coming here seem so… plain, they seem so easy, even someone the likes of Big Drip Productions could beat right now. For a champion like you, that’s the reputation you want to live up to? Zack Tyler. Dead. Contessa Floran. Dead. Pyro. A brainwashed follower because he thinks you know best. Dex Griffin. Back to Antarctica to shag the polar bears. John Nash Strader. Fiddling around with little kids in the playgrounds of Wrestleworld Island. A short list of who’s who, Nathan, and judging by who’s been on that list -- it’s a fucking shitfest. See, I didn’t need the easy way around things, Nathan, I was given the fuckin’ hardest cunts I could have fought. Kayla Richards, Kasey Winterborn, Havoc, Pixie Sloane, and whoever the fuck was in that Battle Royal. I’ve fought tooth and nail to prove my name, you did a little song and dance and picked up a few easy fuckin’ wins because DeMarco thinks it’s fun to protect his champion. Nathan, you’re the only champion I’ve seen on both brands to be handed the short straws to crush under your feet. What happened to The Problem Child that he was fed the dead carcasses of those who couldn’t prove themselves worthy? What happened to Saint Drago that he went to fight the nobodies that weren’t even in the same league as him? For someone who’s been fighting for the past two years to prove he can stand at the top of the mountain, he sure did put up a fight against these come and gone rejects. It’s like being in AWF again, isn’t it, Drago? Once again, taking out the talent that cannot even stand up for themselves so what do they do? Take your title and try to put a better one on you, but where did that lead you but seeing the view of the lights at the end of the night- and on such a big stage too. I tried my best to help you and still you failed. I know you’ve not forgotten the name either, haven’t you? Raiden Ishimori. Fought him for the AWF Prestige Championship and thought you could come out with the title, you were so confident and you were so sure of it -- but you failed me. You failed everyone. You, most importantly, failed yourself in the process. At first, Nathan, I blamed myself for your loss. I constantly wrapped it around my head that I was the one who fucked you over at Night of Champions and then it hit me, I didn’t do a fuckin’ thing like that. It dawned on me when you lost the chance to become the AWF Prestige Champion again to Hyperion. You know, the guy I beat easily? Yeah, you’ve never beaten the son of a bitch, did you? When I first brought you into The Icons, you lost to that man, even after I had given you all of the hope you could imagine. Never was enough for you, never could reach that pinnacle you wanted so badly, and whilst you seemingly vanished between the months of November 2019 to May 2020, I was doing things only you could have wished to be done. Winning all of those World Championships, becoming the King I said I was going to be, and doing it all in a fashionable style I was comfortable with. I didn’t need to fuck around from show to show, and I didn’t need to be banished from some island too, never had to kick off over anything nor did I ever become the piece of shit you were. I realised my place, I realised what I was supposed to be and it made me think of what things used to be back then, Nathan. Not a day goes by where I look back and think about the good times. Seeing all the memories we’ve collected, championships we’ve collected, and namesakes we’ve received. We weren’t the villains, nor were we the heroes, but we were the fucking iconic duo we are. So for me to give you the keys to the kingdom that I once owned, to give you the chance to make things right on your own, to give you the fame and the fortune, and to give you the fuckin’ clout that you recieved by being at my side. I realised that I fuckin’ made you, Nathan. Your whole career from 2019 onto now? I created that, I made that happen. All of those championships you’ve fought for, without me you’d have never been in that position. And the championships that you did win, you can thank me for those because I was the one that brought you into my world. I was the one who brought you into the world that’s been around me for a long fuckin’ time now. I’m sure you’re going to tell everyone how you never needed me and I was just some immature, insecure little boy who needed your help. At one point, yes, I was and that’s fine because I can admit to me being the boy I was back then. Immature and unsure of who’d join me on whatever fuckin’ adventures I’d bring you on. But without me, Nathan, who’d have really heard the name Drago Santiago like they do now? Who’d have known about you without me giving you the fame, the name sake, the fortunes, everything needed to create a fuckin’ star. I know that in your head, that’s going to haunt you until you beat the fuckin’ shit out of me, I know it will. I just fuckin’ know it. Besides, you’ve known that longer than me, but you’re just too stubborn to admit it. The Problem Child is holding back his own problems for sure, but what can a Saint be like compared to a King? Compared to me, Nathan, you are nothing. You’re nothing because you can’t bring yourself to truly hurt me because I know that deep down inside of you there’s a thought, a vision of us being the men we are today, and being the team we once were. Deep down inside, you feel sorry for me, don’t you? Deep down inside of you, Nathan, our friendship still exists. Because deep down inside of you, you’re aware that I have you by the fuckin’ balls and I’ve got you in such an insecure spot that you can’t even confess to it because it’ll ruin your image of being Saint Drago Santiago. A leader of many, a cultist with a following-- do you really think so? I doubt that being a cult with Pyro as your right hand man is something worth leading into wars with. A cultist without a cult, a leader with no army, a saint with no sinners to direct orders to. If you were a god, there’ll be nobody believing in you, Nathan. Trust me, they don’t believe in you anyway, because they’d rather cheer for someone they can trust. In my world, they never believed in you -- you wandered around looking for hope, looking for a chance, and when you had those chances handed to you, it’s always been the same result every single time. Loss, after loss, after loss, after fuckin’ loss. Raiden Ishimori, Hyperion, Stephanie Matsuda, they’ve all brought you down to your knees and made you pray. Made you fuckin’ beg and now you are the one asking for people to pray for the saint, making people beg for forgiveness from you. All a little bit too ironic now, isn’t it, Nathan? I know why you decided to take things too far and too personal. You, Nathan, were jealous of me. Aware that you won’t confirm it, but dammit you won’t fuckin’ deny it either because it’s the truth. Cut, after cut, after cut, after fuckin’ cut. Each and every one of those scars that were freshly dug into your skin were for me, because you couldn’t resist seeing me in the spotlight and YOU GETTING FUCKIN’ NONE OF IT! Because of me, it drove you insane and it drove you to be the man you are today, and because of me it’s why I have to be the one who stops you before you ruin everyone else’s lives. See, there’s an old saying and a very damn good true saying, Nathan. “I am the poet, and you are the poetry.” Created, designed, refurbished, all by my own hands. All you have to do is to just admit to it, admit to yourself the truth, and admit to everyone who really controls Drago Santiago around me. The minute you hesitate your shots, the second it takes for me to kick you down and make you my bitch. Like you always have been. In your head, you used to see me as this childish and selfish idiot that was “true to his desires” but now, as Jason Long, you think I’m a man with desires to hide. If I were a man with desires to hide, I’d have cracked by now, wouldn’t you think? So sure of desires of mine being held back, being hidden, then tell me what they are because… I know what they are, I know exactly what they fuckin’ are. You don’t however, you speculate and you think you know me too well, maybe this time you might focus on me and what I truly am before trying to get into my head. Psychological warfare doesn’t work on me, gaslighting me doesn’t work and trying to brainwash me into joining your cult isn’t going to work out at all. So tell me, how is it that you go about defining good and evil, Nathan? See when I created you, I wanted to make the brand new star that everyone can bring their eyes onto and see what The Icons can truly create. I wanted everyone to know that I hand picked one of the best new coming stars without even knowing it -- and I did. I didn’t create an upcoming star in the making however, I created a main event caliber freak who used pain for pleasure. He was going to be the next big thing, he was going places I never expected him to go from the jump and then he lost his spark, he lost everything he had about him, all of the flavour and all of the taste there was within Drago Santiago. I’ve done everything for you, I’ve given you the world, and this is how you repay me? You’ve spat in my fuckin’ face, you’ve thrown everything back at me, you’ve broken my trust with you and I’ll never forget that. Remember this, I put you into this story, I put you into this situation, I put you into the world you’re living in right now-- AND I’LL FUCKING TAKE YOU OUT OF IT WITH MY BARE HANDS IF I HAVE TO, NATHAN. Nobody told you to make it personal, Nathan, but if I’m not going to defend Savannah, if I’m not going to defend myself, if I’m not going to defend Project: Honor- then what is the point of me being here and fighting you? I know that you’re going into this match with the plan of breaking me down piece by piece and making me weak just so you can pick up the scraps and easily beat me. But that’s not going to happen at all, because whilst you’re being intelligent and planning in your head, I’m going to run into that ring and I’m going to rain down hell onto you. You know that saying, Nathan? “Come at the king, best not miss”, I’m sure you’ve heard of it plenty of times. I know for a fact that whilst you plan attacks and fail to connect, I won’t be missing a single beat. I won’t miss a single step. I won’t miss a single kick, punch, elbow, forearm-- you know the drill by now. So when you do come at The King, you best not miss a fucking hit. I won’t miss a single hit, I won’t miss a single shot, because I’m emptying out the entire clip into your chest and into your head. Locked and fuckin’ loaded, you son of a bitch. But -- let me remind you of who I am, Nathan. Just so you can finally get the name stuck into that head of yours. My name is Jason Long. I am The King of Professional Wrestling. A four time World Champion around the world. There have been sixteen numerous championship belts I have held throughout my career. A total of twenty championship reigns within the past four years. The Saint Killer. The Parent of the Problem. The Next Project: Honor Prime Champion. --any other day, this would be a fifth world championship added to my lineage but with you as my opponent, it’s much more. It’s about bringing the prestige back into the championship you’ve been holding for so long. It’s about putting you in your place. It’s about finally proving to you that I will always be The King whereas you’ll always be the peasant. Promises I’ve made will finally be completed. There will be blood, yours and mine, and it’ll be on our hands. But I’ll be the one to bury a friend along the way. All fuckin’ hail. Long live the king. I wanna end me I wanna, I wanna, I wanna end me I wanna, I wanna, I wanna– What do you want from me? Why don't you run from me? What are you wondering? What do you know? Why aren't you scared of me? Why do you care for me? When we all fall asleep, where do we go? |
