Post by Kai Stevens on May 10, 2019 19:51:31 GMT
CHAPTER EIGHT:
aggressive
“We're the living proof.
We're the harshest truth.
All thanks to you,
we're the aggressive youth.”
Beartooth
“Strike the shepherd,” a voice offers ominously from the darkness. “And the sheep will scatter.”
While the vast, vast majority of our setting is engulfed in the absence of light, the illuminating feature of the camera filming this segment shines on the cold visage of none other than the Divine Wrestling Pure Champion Kai Stevens. His beard is groomed neatly and his brow is furrowed with nefarious intent. Wetting his lips, the hundred and fifty-eight day reigning Champion smirks arrogantly and emits a soft yet simultaneously sinister chuckle beneath his breath. The gold face of his title belt glistens slightly on his shoulder, though the poor lighting prevents any kind of fullness to this phantasmagoria. Once his laughter subsides, he speaks with great authority and disdain.
“Tomorrow night,” he continues. “Tomorrow night I stand beside Sophia Alva and Jessica Anderson as separate parts of the same three-headed dragon. I don’t often offer much in the way of praise, but when you’re stuck contrasting three bottom bitch nobodies like our opponents at SAGA 6... To three people like us? The difference is stark and it’s utterly terrifying... For Vigor, Balmer, and Vega, that is.” Kai grins with self-aggrandizing amusement. “Between my two partners, there isn’t a single loss… And when you add my six wins and my one bullshit loss, you find that there isn’t a chance in Hell that a single one of those bottom feeding motherfuckers leaves Detroit with their head still attached to their necks. Since DAY FUCKING ONE here in Divine Wrestling, I’ve stood taller than the rest. I’ve stood prouder than the rest. And above all else? I’ve stood more decorated than the rest. Between my historically unparalleled reign as ALPHA World Heavyweight Champion and this undisputed, unending, and equally unparalleled reign as Pure Champion, I have gone above and beyond in proving EXACTLY where the fuck I rank among my so-called peers.” Kai snickers deviously, adjusting the title belt on his shoulder. He then cocks his head to either side rather sharply, cracking his neck audibly. After drawing breath through his nostrils, Kai bows his head forward slightly, narrowing his eyes so as to sneer up through his furrowed brow with a significant degree of foreboding. “Need I remind anyone that I’ve finished off each and every motherfucker they’ve fed to me?” he asks rhetorically. “Need I remind anyone that I did so with some simple Slam Poetry? Or can your feeble brains even properly process the dominance? The slaughter? When it comes right down to it, the fact of the matter is this… There isn’t a single fucking person in this company, in this BUSINESS who can step to Kai Stevens. Michael Maddox tried and I ended his fucking career. My former brother in arms Miles Taylor tried it and I beat his fucking skull in so Goddamned hard he kissed the floor I walked on for the next four months. Mr. Katz tried his best and KNEW he’d never have what the FUCK it takes to beat me, so he had to break his stupid guitar over my back… All so that I wouldn’t break his back. And where is Katz now? Scraping the bottom of the fucking barrel like we all knew he was meant to.” A contemptuous shaking of his head accompanies Kai’s venomous tone. “As far as Michael Rissi’s cocksucking ass is concerned? There isn’t a doubt in ANYBODY’s fucking mind that I was, have always been, and will always be the better man. For fuck’s sake the son of a bitch lost his opportunity to win the World Championship to his fucking wife... So each and every person on this planet knows exactly who wears the pants in that relationship. She’s more of a man than he is.”
Stevens has no choice but to lift his right hand and push the pads of his middle finger and thumb into either side of the bridge of his nose. The tension in his head from merely thinking about his fluke loss to Rissi at SAGA 4 sends rage coursing through Kai’s veins. As such, a vein bulges from his neck and temple in illustration of his incensed demeanor. When he lowers his hand from his face, he sucks through his teeth and his upper lip twitches in restraint.
“All of these men,” he elaborates. “All of these men are failures compared to Kai Stevens, and that’s completely without even mentioning the last two motherfuckers who tried to take this title from me, Ryan Kelly and Ricky Staton... Both of whom I have embarrassed. Both of whom I have put in their fucking place. Shit, Ricky hasn’t even shown his ugly mug since I kicked it the fuck off of his skull, has he?” His eyebrow lifts questioningly even though we all know it’s a rhetorical question to which the answer is yes. “But they’re more than JUST failures, y’see. They’re sheep. And me? I’m a motherfucking wolf ready to go straight for their jugulars. I haven’t needed to wear sheep’s clothing a day in my fucking life, and tomorrow night? Tomorrow night is merely an excuse to prove it all over again. And when I’m out there single-handedly dismantling that team of bottom bitches, I’ll be dropping Sophia and Jessica’s jaws… In other words? In other words I’m gonna’ drop our opponents’ jaws by kicking them the fuck off... And drop my two partners’ jaws in sheer dominance... In awe of my unparalleled prowess within that squared circle.” Kai shakes his head with a soft scoff. “Take a look at this from a pragmatic standpoint, even. Aiden Balmer has proven himself… Let’s say inadequate. Hell, over in ALPHA Wrestling? Over in Freedom Pro Wrestling? Balmer was such a complete and total shitstain that he needed to drop to his knees and BEG Ava Knight and Evan Rorsche to carry his deadweight bitch-ass… Beg like the fucking pussy he is. Here in Divine Wrestling, he’s done nothing but embarrass himself over and over and OVER AGAIN! He’s no better than Ricky Stanton. He’s no better than Ryan Kelly. He’s no better than Mr. Katz. And if he makes the fatal error of stepping foot into that ring with me at the same time? Not only will I prove just how true all this shit is… But I’ll also do each and every fan a favor… I’ll do the company the favor of ridding your televisions of his stupid fucking face… Permanently,” he adds with a viciously scathing tone. “For fuck’s sake, Ryan Kelly of all people put this stupid piece of shit down for the count at SAGA 3, didn’t he? If Ryan Kelly can beat you, you SERIOUSLY need to reevaluate your career choice… And if that wasn’t enough for Aiden to do so? I’ll reevaluate for him and end his fucking career once and for all.”
Stevens nods in agreement with his own guttural threat before running his left hand through his hair. Once he adjusts the title on his right shoulder again, he scowls at the camera. The scowl, though, soon subsides as the corner of his mouth curls into an imperious display of animosity. He wets his lips again and continues his vicious vitriol with a portentous smirk across his bearded visage.
“But what about Claude Vigor, the blind will ask,” he spits disgustedly. “What about Claude Vigor? Am I supposed to be scared of you or something? You talk this big ol’ fuckin’ game about respect, about how you refuse to accept any further disrespect... But tell me something, Claude… How the FUCK can someone who tucked his tail between his legs and ran away like a cowardly little bitch… From Rory Hazlow of all people, and WITH THE FUCKING NUMBERS ADVANTAGE... How can someone who did that expect a man, a Champion like me to do anything but laugh in your fucking face?” As if on cue, Stevens lets loose with a maniacal cackle for the ages. Once it subsides, his facial expression shifts rapidly into a stern glower. “Each and every Goddamned time you and your shitstain of a partner go out there, go out there to the ring in hopes of instilling… Justice... You get your shit rocked. You get put in your Goddamned places, be it by Kieron Overton’s doing, Michael Rissi’s, or someone else. Do us all a favor, buddy… Bring that stupid motherfucker Rory Hazlow on out with ya’ for our match tomorrow night. Make it a four on three handicap match… Shit, make it you four against just me and the result’s gonna’ be the exact fucking same… The end of your career.” Stevens snickers maliciously before glaring heatedly into the camera. “You wanna’ rid Divine Wrestling of assholes like the World Champ and her bitch? Go right ahead and try... Because history speaks for itself, and history tells us all that you’ll fall short like you have every fucking time you’ve stepped foot into the ring in this company,” he explains with a judgmental smile. “Leave justice, leave this business to the men and women who can actually fucking wrestle. Unless you learn how to do that, Claude? Unless you learn your place? Tomorrow night’s gonna’ be the longest night of your life… And the last one.”
Kai grins ominously and nods for a moment before flicking a glance off camera. He wets his lips before flipping the title on his right shoulder over to his left shoulder. Rolling his right shoulder back to loosen it a bit, Kai sits up more rigidly and stares into the camera with an abundance of disdain and resent. These characteristics are on full display as his tone fills to the brim with scorn.
“Which brings me to Misty Vega,” he adds, almost bored it seems. “If me putting you the fuck to sleep at SAGA 5 wasn’t enough, bitch, then by all means… You’re more than welcome to show your ugly mug here in my fucking ring again… This time? This time I won’t be letting you off that easy. This time, it’s not just a suplex into turnbuckles you’ve got waiting for you, but a FUCKING BLOODBATH. You should have learned your Goddamned lesson when I single-handedly humiliated you and Ricky Stanton. Instead? Instead your suckerpunching, cowardly bitch-ass is going to be forced to bleed until there isn’t a single damn drop left in your body. I will bathe in your blood, Misty. I’ll taste in your torment before I kick your overused mouth clean through the back of your scalp.” Stevens’s tone grows more and more aggressive with every passing sentiment. “At this point, Misty, you’re not even worth my time. You weren’t worth my time in the ring at any point, but now? Now you’re not even worth my time talking. You’re a waste of breath and a waste of a roster space... And for that, I will lay you the fuck to waste... And I’ll lead you back home to the dirt where you belong. That is… If there’s anything left of you for your family to bury in disgrace.”
Kai cackles evilly again, this time for a shorter duration. When his devious laugh concludes, Kai leans in toward the camera and gets rather close. His expression cannot be misunderstood at this range, as the devilish grin upon his lips serves to emphasize the malice aforethought consuming his hazel eyes.
“All I see,” continues the Cowboy Killer. “All I see are three people with a deathwish. All I see… Are sheep. If I am to strike the shepherd, a shepherd must first exist. And as far as I’m concerned? As far as this business is concerned? There isn’t a single fucking shepherd between the three of you, between the four of you if Claude does what we ALL expect him to do and bring backup. So who must I strike to scatter you stupid motherfuckers? For now? For now, I’ll settle for just striking the three of you bottom bitches down… But when it comes right down to it? At the end of the day, when the sun has set and the dust has settled? I will strike at the heart of this company… I will strike down any and ALL who oppose me, who stand in my way without dropping to their fucking knees in WORSHIP at the altar of Kai Stevens. Whether it’s the World Champ or her bitch of a husband… Whether it’s Ryan Kelly or anyone else... It could not matter any less.” The Judge, Jury, and Executioner shakes his head contemptuously. “I am the only person in this company, this business deserving of wearing this crown,” he expresses, adjusting the title on his shoulder again. “Because when I get into that ring, I bring with me the full, undivided attention and wrath of the fire within which I was forged. I bring with me the PURE and unadulterated violence that could only be executed by Kai fucking Stevens... So for you three, you four, and ANYBODY ELSE WHO WANTS TO FUCKING TEST ME... The End is Nigh.”
fin.
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