Wrestling Forum banner

1 - 1 of 1 Posts

3,243 Posts
Discussion Starter #1
You know what they told me when I signed for a match with you, Lost Soul?

“You can’t beat him. No one can beat him. He’s unstoppable.”

Maybe that’s true. Look at the people who’ve failed.

Tara Shannon.
Danny English.
Jake Steel.
Brad Payne.
Brendan Black.

It’s a hell of a list, with a whole lot of talented names omitted. And there I am right at the bottom of it. I’m not going to lie. I won’t pretend I was this close or I got screwed. You beat me silly inside the Ultimate Edge cage. I could barely stand afterward. And now you’ve got a rekindled vicious streak, well...I’m in for the fight of my life here. Well, a fight of my life.

That’s all it’s really been. One fight after another. Over and over again in endless succession. I was a cop and a wrestler and through it all I just kept finding enemies to throw myself up against. No matter how much shit you talk it still won’t scare me as much as just standing still. All I know how to do is fight. It’s all I’ve ever really done well. And I don’t care if I don’t rank for you as one of the greats. I don’t care about proving myself to you. I’ve came and done, sometimes better than others. I wasn’t the best, but I sure wasn’t the worst. When this all winds down, if there is one kid in the audience who leaves the building with my name on their lips, then I’ll be satisfied.

I’ve never given it anything but my best. Never.

I’m not ashamed of failing. Not here.

You want to get in my head, it’ll take a hell of a lot more than calling me a second stringer. It’ll take more than pounding your chest like some kind of absurd attempt at assuming the apex predator position. I’ve faced down scarier bastards than you, and you know what? I never even blinked.

But you did.

I don’t know when. I don’t know why. But it’s all right there isn’t it?

‘Lost Soul’

Everything about you is a cry for help. The name, the paint, the outfit. If you were a decade younger I might mistake you for a high school student on a goth kick. You’re getting old and you’re obviously tired. You flit in and out of the business at your leisure, trying to escape. Escape the pattern of ‘Fight, repeat. Ad. Infantum.’

I don’t know what you’re running from, but you started a long time ago and never really stopped.

So you want to talk about worth to me? Let’s go.

This is all you are. This. The fight. The moment. The show. You can run. You can hide from it. You can try to escape. But every time you do, you will always end up right. Back. Here. Because this is all there is to you. And when the lights go out and your name finally dies in the annals of time, you will have nothing left. You will be nothing.

I’ll still have family. I’ll still have the history of myself. The man, not the fighter. It’s hard. It’s the hardest thing in my life to try and stop. To give this up. It’s the old familiar. But everything ends. This is my time.

You want to talk shit and hit hard, go for it. I’ll match you swing for swing in there. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s fight. But when I go home, even if you put me on a stretcher I will go back to the people who love me. I will have a life beyond this. I will have all the worth I need.

What will you have?


Regardless of the result, Lost Soul.

I win.
1 - 1 of 1 Posts