In Memory of your last angel...

27-28-04

The black lights flicker on and off as tiny drops of water drip from the pipes above. The dirt on the floor is washed away into the closest drain and out of sight. A musky fog fills the air, and swirls around the depths of this industrial complex. Footsteps echo on the floor, ringing loudly and bouncing off the walls. You are not alone here. This is, however, where you must be. Where you were meant to be. All along.

Your phantom shadow is revealed in a coin-tinted, dark mustard colour. The walls and floor are greased in slime, mould and decay. The stain of blood spilt from years ago leaves the floor with the ability to send the most horrific chills down your spine. Any more powerful, and it'd have the ability to paralyze you from shock alone.
Yet you venture forth, deeper and deeper into the heart of the complex. Your breaths are rapid. Quick and sound. Your heart beats faster than a drummer's finest solo. And your eyes widen, blink in awe, and glimmer with a false sense of promise. For you long to rectify the damages done years ago. That by somehow visiting a fateful spot, and wishing happy thoughts in your mind, your sins will be cleansed in a way no noble priest ever could inside of a confessional. This goes beyond the simple "Five Hail Marys" and an "Our Father" -- this is your conscience. Naturally.

Thoughts circulate inside of your mind, blending reality and fiction in a way not even the most skilled abstract artist could. Your mind is drawn to the pale, grungy walls that speak with the wisdom packaged with old age. Legacies of factory workers who had lived lives of misery for a pay cheque speak within the building's quarters, telling you their stories. With each step you take, your mind is pushed deeper and deeper into Armageddon. Into a state there would be no going back from. Corrupted. And thus, the toxic spreads through your body, bones and blood-stream. It infects your most vital organs, making each step you take more painful and enduring than the last.

The pain that resides within you brings you to your knees on the mental front. This war of attrition being fought in your head is worse than the trench warfare of the Great War many years ago. Your mind is a battleground, and it is surrounded by landmines ready to annihilate your memories of the past, turning you into just a body without a brain. Thoughts -- both good and evil -- wage war within. Billions of lightning strikes cry out from the heavens, raging recklessly upon your most precious, timeless emotions. From those very skies, fantastic balls of fire rain down, turning your world into one giant war zone against the elements. The acidic rain is like the static on a television set. And within your body, mind, and spirit, the static rings louder and louder, causing you to succumb to its numbing, shattering tune.

Something you regret. Something that happened long ago. It eats away at you. It brings you closer, on your knees, crawling deeper and deeper into the heart of the concrete warehouse. Your legs and kneecaps are slashed as you trail. The shards of old glass have their edges still intact, and scrape against your mortal flesh, opening up wounds you only wish could be healed. Your arms and hands feel the same fate, and they too are ripped against the floor, as you crawl on, hopelessly wishing for atonement. Those memories fly back to you now
-- memories of something long ago. Something that happened here. In this very location. Something that wasn't your fault according to others, yet deep in your mind, your subconscious says otherwise.

Beads of sweat drip down your face and onto the steel floor as you move on. Everything is blurry now. Things are not as they seem. You tilt your head to the right and stare ahead at the broken body of a man laying helplessly in a pool of his own blood with many other men standing around him -- their hands together in prayer. This brings back a ruthless sense of guilt, and the fires raining down from the heavens in your mind explode within the stars and skies like a nuclear assault. The white and pink skies explode into the fearless fire that extends to the farthest reaches of your mind. Your heart stops beating for a moment. You breathe in deep, and in the process, taste a freezing cold mix of blood and stainless steel. Your eyes widen. All you see is the harsh reality of white.

"I knew you'd come,"

I say to you, walking on the steel floor in battle-tested combat boots, smashing shards of glass with each step.
Your face is as white as a ghost, and your body is damaged severely -- showcasing your magnificent mask of gore. Your identity belongs to me now. Your mind is mine. Your body reeks with the foul scent of disgrace, tears, and a multitude of overwhelming failures. No longer can you stand. You gaze up at me, on your knees no
less, trying to make out the face of the one who brought you here. But alas, you cannot.

You try to speak. You try to justify why it is you crawl and beg to be put out of your misery. But you cannot. Your mouth opens wide, and your tongue peaks up into the world, covered in blood, saliva, and some of your last meal. The pain inside your body is too great, and in turn, you know exactly what you're feeling. You're feeling the pain you brought forth to the man you imagined before. The man who you saw motionless on the floor, lying in a pool in his own blood. You remember now what happened. You remember the fateful day in the factory, and accidentally sending a piece of melting steel right through your own uncle's heart. How you shed tears. Cried for help. You remember it all.

So you gaze up at me. The blood now dripping from your neck as I turn my attention to a welding kit and begin to work away, sending sparks and strains of glass directly into your face. You feel your mind melting with each burning shard embedding itself into your body. Those scars will never heal. And your tears could never wash away the sadness you feel. The harsh reality of everything coming at you. How your darkest nightmares are my entertainment. Like a torture flick. Like a horror movie. Like a fight to the death.

"Why'd you do it?"

I ask you, removing my welding mask and staring you down. I know you can't answer. I know the truth. I know how your uncle was a man you owed your life to. A man who helped you after your family's death at a young age. How you seemingly belonged to him. And worked for him. It's funny how a few unpaid bills and a shortage of green can result in modern day slavery. So you took your chance when no one was around. And the world grieved. You faked tears and the world sobbed. You yearned for false comfort, and you were given that, by everyone. Factories are dangerous. So I brought you here.

You begin to fade. Each breath is longer. Each heartbeat more precious. And as time ticks away, so do you. You realize, only now, the error of your ways. The so-called value of human life. Your tears now, are for your own life. Not the false tears you shed for someone else. Someone you killed to save yourself. And with that, I gaze down at you, I grab your chin with my right hand and you know what's coming next.

For now you see the real me. You look above as the sun finally rises in the distance, shining brightly out of the row of windows, finally lighting up the place where you had at one point set yourself free. My silhouette is haunting. My figure is daunting. And my eyes torment you. My red iris startles you -- like I am the shadow of Satan's nightmares. The imagine conjured by a fallen angel on his freefall down from the heavens into the darkest layers of absolute darkness. I am everything you fear. I am the realization of the world's flaws and
treachery. What am I can never be duplicated. And you know this very well.

The last thing you see is my face. And what you see, is the world in flames. In my eyes, my child, you witness the gates of hell opening, and the onslaught of what is to come...

You mouth the name "Xstasy" before finally giving up, and falling face-first down onto the cold, cold floor. I stand above you, embraced by the shadows for a moment, before vanishing as the sun reaches its highest point, completely lighting up the abandoned factory.
And now, my child, you are dead.

...Do you remember your last angel?

-----------------------The Match----------------------------

Brandon Macdonald
Brandon, I know your not teaming with me or any one your just in it to win your Championship that you held with Nick Ridicule. Brandon I just hope you know this I'm going to try my best to be the next person to pull down the other championship.

For the frist time the Tag Team belts are not going to be defended in a tag team match but in a Free for all Tables, Ladders, and Chairs match were any one could win and come out a Tag Team Champions, You see I have held the Tag Team title only once and they were given to me when I frist came to NLWF I teamed with Havoc, What a bad choice to pick but at the time it was a good choice to get my career started and since then I have not held them I have been in Tag Team match in the past and I'v teamed with some crappy people with the Tag Team titles on the line I'v teamed with Shadow Demon better then Havoc but we still lose then I made a team with Ryan who I thought I could turn into a better person only for him to walk out like a pussy and we faced Bad Company(Corey Casey & Chuck Matthews) and we got killed and in the same show I teamed with Nick Ridicule who only used that match to make sure I was not 100% for are main event match. Yeah so there is alot on my mind going into this match like who will I team with or what will I do, Well I'm not sure I'v never had a great tag team partner why because every one I'v teamed with only wanted the spotlight on them self.

At FTW Global Takeover III I plan on walking out with another Championship and I plan on breaking some bodies in the match and KID if you think I'm scared of you, your dead fucking wrong KID you say you want to face me in my match well then at Majority Rules I'm going to go 3 and 0 in the Blood, Pride, and Death Match. KID just as my song says Nightmare I'm going to be your Worst fucking Nightmare in the world what happen to you at Legends of the fall is nothing, KID Just wait you think your more of a legend then me but your not why because even thought I have only held a world title for only Seven day it does not matter any more why because I have done more in my career then you have. But lets get back to the topic Chris I have no idea what your going to say but I'm going to say this I do Respect you not just for your name but the fact that your a threat.

In Memory of your last angel...

In Memory of your last angel...

In Memory of your last angel... :: Comments