Post by graymalone on Jun 9, 2016 19:02:04 GMT -5
Footsteps echo in the darkness.
Slowly the sound moves from left to right. Then right to left.
Nothing can be seen. The thickness of it all. The unnerving shadows.
The footsteps stop suddenly. Shuffling can be heard before the sound of a click. The little chain swings back and forth, after being pulled underneath a hanging light bulb. Below the little bit of light is the form of the Angel of Shadows. He stares ahead, as his hand comes down to his side.
There are no theatrics this time. There is no more hidden agendas. No more threats. Just the reality we see before us. One man. One soul wrapped in weathered, scarred skin. One beating heart.
The silence is broken by the familiar voice of Gray Malone.
Malone: There is no need for comedy. No need for occupying an insulting nature over anyone, anymore. I have represented badly to the fullest extent possible. When I say this, I don't mean representing the fans. I don't mean representing my fellow Angelz. What I mean is I have represented myself badly. No more will I allow myself to continue the tirade of which I have spiraled down. I am hated in the NGW. I am up there with the very coward, Dirk Bentley as an insignificant cunt, that can't even win one match. And I've had 3 goes at it. The name of Gray Malone has suffered over the past month, since I walked through the doors of this company. Years ago, my peers would have looked at me as a leader, as a true competitor. They would have respected what they saw before them. They would have worked hard in that ring, to strive for a chance to stand face to face with me, in front of thousands in attendance, around the world. Those days have faded into the shadows, ever since I opened my mouth with a generation of competitors that I thought I was far more superior than.
And yet.....there is hope.
He clicks the light above his head again and it goes out, leaving the scene in darkness. His footsteps echo to the left, and more ruffling is heard, as a door opens up, flooding wonderful light into the room. Gray stands at the doorway, with his back facing us. He looks out into the world, as he views white sand, and the bluest ocean. The breeze that blows his shirt and shorts, is softly heard as he stands motionless. Speaking, yet again.
Malone: I took my own chances, and as a result I ended up where I am firmly planted now. I called out the owner of the NGW, Devlin Scott, and was ridiculed by the entire roster. I know now, that I was wrong. Not about Devlin. But about making those intentions public. Now I am hated. Now I am looked over and laughed at. I have went from Main Eventing Vendetta, to now participating in the opening Dark Match against Koro, who lost the Battle Royal in San Jose. I am here now to tell you all, there is no such thing as a bottomless pit. For I am falling no more. The bottom of the pit, is where I have found myself. Humble. Hated. And no longer relevant in the eyes of any of my peers.
And yet.......there is hope.
He walks out into the sand. He is now seen as wearing a white shirt, flapping in the breeze. He has on white shorts as well. He is barefoot. The beach is quiet, and alone...except for him. Solitude is what this place provides. Understanding is what he is looking for. He sits in the sand, and looks up to the sky.
Malone: I belong at the bottom. My proper place. A new starting point. This is where I should have began before, but my mouth wouldn't allow it. My ego would hear nothing of it. I wanted the best, and I got the best. And then I lost. I thought myself invincible, having ran through most of AWA, claiming every championship and entering the Hall of Fame. How wrong I was, as I stood face to face with a young warrior, whom I thought frail and weak. It was I that faded to black that day. It was I that suffered my first singles defeat. And I was ridiculed and taunted for it. Here, in the NGW, there is no respect for the battle that took place. My peers don't understand what the true wrestling fan understands. The match is a work of art. The battle is the bleeding paint that hits the canvas for the world to see. Here, in this new generation, all they think of is records and streaks. They think of title reigns and how long they run as champion. So be it. I get it now. I have attuned myself to this fact, and I am about to adjust to the new path I will lead.
You see......there is hope.
He looks up into the blue sky. A 180 brings us to face Malone. He sits there in the sand, as four others stand behind him, farther away...yet very recognizable. All except one of them. For Corey Bull, Damon Graves and Aurora Knight stand there, facing the camera. Yet a fourth person is also standing beside them. They are facing the other way. No need for recognition at this time. Gray stands up in the sand, not taking his eyes away from the camera. The other four stand far behind him, motionless. He speaks in a calm tone.
Malone: I begin once again anew. Koro, I have been chosen to become your executioner, for that's what I am, and that's what I now do. You are the first rung on this ever tall ladder that I now stand at the bottom of. However, I am not looking up anymore. Instead I look ahead. I look directly in front of me, and that is the place I find you, Koro. I have no hate, nor disrespect for you, nor you country. You are here for your own reasons, and I am in no way, shape or form the one to swerve those reasons from you. Unless of course you choose to break what the Angelz hold dear.
He looks behind him, at the others that stand further away from him.
Malone: They are my family. The ones that watch my back, just like I watch theirs. We do everything in our power to uphold the respect of the wrestling fans. I still believe in the battle, Koro. To where two people stand before each other and give everything they have to put a great match on display for them. Yet I cannot do such a thing when I am a curtain jerker. That is what you and I have become, my Vodka sipping friend. There is only escape for one of us. You will not be that one, for you are going to be in that ring at Vendetta with a creature that is on a new purpose. You are the first step. You are the first rung. Whatever you want to call yourself, that leads to me stepping on your throat to move to the next level.....is what you now have become.
My emotions are now in sync with my heart, and my soul. The hate that is spewed in my direction, now fuels me in a way that has been needed for years. Koro, you are the first step in my proving ground, and I will obliterate you quickly and efficiently, and move up another level. I don't get paid by the hour. Your end will come swift. I will get paid, and I will train for the next. Be it another fucking dark match, or be it another shot at being on the televised card of the next Vendetta.....it matters not.
Because now.......there is hope.
He extends his hands out, and looks up.
Malone: Gray Malone goes 1 and 3 at Vendetta against you, Koro. The days of losing have ended. The top of the ladder cannot be seen. But I care not to look up. It strains the neck. I look forward to you sir. And I will cut through you like a surgeon.
I move on. And You? You Lose.
He turns and walks toward his fellow Angelz, as the scene Fades to Black.
Slowly the sound moves from left to right. Then right to left.
Nothing can be seen. The thickness of it all. The unnerving shadows.
The footsteps stop suddenly. Shuffling can be heard before the sound of a click. The little chain swings back and forth, after being pulled underneath a hanging light bulb. Below the little bit of light is the form of the Angel of Shadows. He stares ahead, as his hand comes down to his side.
There are no theatrics this time. There is no more hidden agendas. No more threats. Just the reality we see before us. One man. One soul wrapped in weathered, scarred skin. One beating heart.
The silence is broken by the familiar voice of Gray Malone.
Malone: There is no need for comedy. No need for occupying an insulting nature over anyone, anymore. I have represented badly to the fullest extent possible. When I say this, I don't mean representing the fans. I don't mean representing my fellow Angelz. What I mean is I have represented myself badly. No more will I allow myself to continue the tirade of which I have spiraled down. I am hated in the NGW. I am up there with the very coward, Dirk Bentley as an insignificant cunt, that can't even win one match. And I've had 3 goes at it. The name of Gray Malone has suffered over the past month, since I walked through the doors of this company. Years ago, my peers would have looked at me as a leader, as a true competitor. They would have respected what they saw before them. They would have worked hard in that ring, to strive for a chance to stand face to face with me, in front of thousands in attendance, around the world. Those days have faded into the shadows, ever since I opened my mouth with a generation of competitors that I thought I was far more superior than.
And yet.....there is hope.
He clicks the light above his head again and it goes out, leaving the scene in darkness. His footsteps echo to the left, and more ruffling is heard, as a door opens up, flooding wonderful light into the room. Gray stands at the doorway, with his back facing us. He looks out into the world, as he views white sand, and the bluest ocean. The breeze that blows his shirt and shorts, is softly heard as he stands motionless. Speaking, yet again.
Malone: I took my own chances, and as a result I ended up where I am firmly planted now. I called out the owner of the NGW, Devlin Scott, and was ridiculed by the entire roster. I know now, that I was wrong. Not about Devlin. But about making those intentions public. Now I am hated. Now I am looked over and laughed at. I have went from Main Eventing Vendetta, to now participating in the opening Dark Match against Koro, who lost the Battle Royal in San Jose. I am here now to tell you all, there is no such thing as a bottomless pit. For I am falling no more. The bottom of the pit, is where I have found myself. Humble. Hated. And no longer relevant in the eyes of any of my peers.
And yet.......there is hope.
He walks out into the sand. He is now seen as wearing a white shirt, flapping in the breeze. He has on white shorts as well. He is barefoot. The beach is quiet, and alone...except for him. Solitude is what this place provides. Understanding is what he is looking for. He sits in the sand, and looks up to the sky.
Malone: I belong at the bottom. My proper place. A new starting point. This is where I should have began before, but my mouth wouldn't allow it. My ego would hear nothing of it. I wanted the best, and I got the best. And then I lost. I thought myself invincible, having ran through most of AWA, claiming every championship and entering the Hall of Fame. How wrong I was, as I stood face to face with a young warrior, whom I thought frail and weak. It was I that faded to black that day. It was I that suffered my first singles defeat. And I was ridiculed and taunted for it. Here, in the NGW, there is no respect for the battle that took place. My peers don't understand what the true wrestling fan understands. The match is a work of art. The battle is the bleeding paint that hits the canvas for the world to see. Here, in this new generation, all they think of is records and streaks. They think of title reigns and how long they run as champion. So be it. I get it now. I have attuned myself to this fact, and I am about to adjust to the new path I will lead.
You see......there is hope.
He looks up into the blue sky. A 180 brings us to face Malone. He sits there in the sand, as four others stand behind him, farther away...yet very recognizable. All except one of them. For Corey Bull, Damon Graves and Aurora Knight stand there, facing the camera. Yet a fourth person is also standing beside them. They are facing the other way. No need for recognition at this time. Gray stands up in the sand, not taking his eyes away from the camera. The other four stand far behind him, motionless. He speaks in a calm tone.
Malone: I begin once again anew. Koro, I have been chosen to become your executioner, for that's what I am, and that's what I now do. You are the first rung on this ever tall ladder that I now stand at the bottom of. However, I am not looking up anymore. Instead I look ahead. I look directly in front of me, and that is the place I find you, Koro. I have no hate, nor disrespect for you, nor you country. You are here for your own reasons, and I am in no way, shape or form the one to swerve those reasons from you. Unless of course you choose to break what the Angelz hold dear.
He looks behind him, at the others that stand further away from him.
Malone: They are my family. The ones that watch my back, just like I watch theirs. We do everything in our power to uphold the respect of the wrestling fans. I still believe in the battle, Koro. To where two people stand before each other and give everything they have to put a great match on display for them. Yet I cannot do such a thing when I am a curtain jerker. That is what you and I have become, my Vodka sipping friend. There is only escape for one of us. You will not be that one, for you are going to be in that ring at Vendetta with a creature that is on a new purpose. You are the first step. You are the first rung. Whatever you want to call yourself, that leads to me stepping on your throat to move to the next level.....is what you now have become.
My emotions are now in sync with my heart, and my soul. The hate that is spewed in my direction, now fuels me in a way that has been needed for years. Koro, you are the first step in my proving ground, and I will obliterate you quickly and efficiently, and move up another level. I don't get paid by the hour. Your end will come swift. I will get paid, and I will train for the next. Be it another fucking dark match, or be it another shot at being on the televised card of the next Vendetta.....it matters not.
Because now.......there is hope.
He extends his hands out, and looks up.
Malone: Gray Malone goes 1 and 3 at Vendetta against you, Koro. The days of losing have ended. The top of the ladder cannot be seen. But I care not to look up. It strains the neck. I look forward to you sir. And I will cut through you like a surgeon.
I move on. And You? You Lose.
He turns and walks toward his fellow Angelz, as the scene Fades to Black.