Prelude To The Open Challenge: Part 2 - The BRUTE
Oct 23, 2019 18:02:14 GMT -6
Deana Barrows, Dylan Thomas, and 1 more like this
Post by The Behemoth Brute - LUSUS on Oct 23, 2019 18:02:14 GMT -6
-------------------------------------------
November 15, 2007 @ 8:47pm
Huntsville, Alabama
Butler Rebels vs. Oblong Panthers
Fourth Quarter, 1st Down. Injury Timeout.
-------------------------------------------
State mandated medical attendants rushed out onto the football field as the usually exuberant Friday night High School football crowd in the southern part of the United States fell eerily quiet. Par for the course when a student is injured on the playing field.
To Carl Lucas the noise was deafening. The referee’s incessantly blowing those goddamned whistles. Questions, questions, talking-
“Are you okay?”
“Can you move?”
“Will your leg bend?”
The pain hadn’t subsided completely but it’d relaxed into a dull throb. He could tell laying there that nothing had been broken. The burning feeling though had caused him to break out into a cold sweat. Then came more talking- did it ever quit? So many questions..
“Are you- sh- th- Back the fu- FUCKING STOP!” Carl Lucas shouted at everyone who’d surrounded him. It had gotten to the point he’d become claustrophobic while laying in the center of a wide open football field.
As many took heed to the warning from the already three pound seventeen year old, there was still work to be done. Paramedics had arrived with a gurney, and they needed to find a way to maneuver this overgrown kid, eventually, into the ambulance.
-------------------------------------------
October 20th, 2019 @ 5:14pm
Nagoya, Japan
Extreme Hardcore Garbage Icon Professional Championship Wrestling Association
Lusus vs. Yoshitaka Meada
-------------------------------------------
Lusus had just finished getting completely ready for his upcoming match and the production crew was queuing up his entrance theme. The building in Nagoya Prefecture was massive with multiple winding hallways. Though Lusus had been here many times over the years, he still was given an escort through the back.
“Lusus-san, you stay here in Japan a while, yes?” the attendant who’d been navigating through the back hallways asked, breaking the silence.
His heavy breathing almost made it hard to hear the question that’d been asked, seeing as his mask covered his ears, but Lusus had a keen ear. Years of listening to the signal caller on the football field translated well into hearing his opponent and the referee in the ring, all the while in a building with thousands of screaming fans.
“The rest of my year is pretty solid.” Lusus replied, not caring much for the small talk with the young boy.
“Ah, for here, no?” came another question in broken English.
“Here, Global Pro Wrestling.. Some in Australia..” Lusus muttered, not seeming interested in the conversation. Luckily for the ‘Gaijin Godzilla’ the two men had reached the open area of the backstage just behind the entrance setup.
The backstage area was littered with moving crates, cables and television monitors for production. The two warriors who’d just competed in the semi-main event match were both laid out with attending doctors just to the east of the entrance. “Requiem For A Dream” composed by Clint Mansell and performed by Kronos Quartet began to vibrate through the sound system of the arena as Lusus disappeared through the curtain.
-------------------------------------------
October 20th, 2019 @ 5:23pm
New York, New York
Specific Location Undetermined
-------------------------------------------
The bustle of the people that’d once surrounded Johnathon Jacob Morrison was no more. Fleeting in each and every direction, work, school, whatever place they had to be. Standing alone in a desolate alleyway in New York, Johnathon Jacob Morrison began to wonder if he’d come to the right place.
“It was one of the Burroughs, right?” He pondered.
Walking out from the shadow of the dimly lit alley, there were enough people still on the sidewalk to make a firm judgement. Scanning the faces of those passing by, he knew he was right. Nearly everyone here looked just like the guy from the Open Challenge that Johnathon Jacob Morrison had responded to earlier in the day.
“Where are you Juicy J?” Johnathon Jacob Morrison mumbled as he turned and looked around in all directions, almost aimlessly.
“You’ve been all around the world.. but you must come back home,” Johnathon Jacob Morrison seemed frustrated. He’d come all this way looking for the second generation superstar and so far he’d struck out.
Johnathon Jacob Morrison pulled the cell phone from his pocket and scrolled through his time line looking once again for the advertisement of the Open Challenge matchup. Finding the social media account of Duce Jones, Johnathon Jacob Morrison maximized the picture on his touch screen and held it aloft to the first passerby.
“Here, you know this guy? He live here?” Johnathon Jacob Morrison asked as the first person shoved his way past, ignoring the impolite imposition. Relentless though, Morrison asked the next person. “Ducey J, He’s here right?”
“Here? That’s Ducey J yo..” came a response that seemed to be quickly yielding the desired results. “Yo mannn, we big fans of the Duce here in the Bush baby.”
“Good, you know Doctor J-” Johnathon Jacob Morrison seemed relieved.
“Doctor J? Yo mannn, he ain’t ball in ages.”
“But he lives here right? You can find him, take me to him?” Johnathon Jacob Morrison might’ve been asking a question, but it certainly seemed more like a statement.
“Doctor J or Ducey? Yo mannn, the good Dr ain’t takin’ no visitors and Ducey-man, he from Ten-a-key. You got the wrong hood mayne,” were the words that Johnathon Jacob Morrison did not want to hear.
“Ten-a-what!?” Johnathon Jacob Morrison exclaimed in bewilderment and confusion.
Ducey Fans.
Johnathon Jacob Morrison closed the picture off of his phone and hit his contacts. Scrolling through the list with a flick of his thumb he stopped at the “L.”
-------------------------------------------
October 20th, 2019 @ 6:13pm
Nagoya, Japan
Extreme Hardcore Garbage Icon Professional Championship Wrestling Association
Post Main Event
-------------------------------------------
Lusus flung the black silk curtain to the side and walked backstage out of view from the screaming Japanese fans he’d just sent into a frenzy. As is usually the case when he competes in the ‘land of the rising sun’, the mammoth gaijin was successful over a much smaller native opponent.
“Sir.. sir.. Call!” Were the frantic words coming from the mouth of one of the promotions young boys.
Lusus tugged at the bottom of his mask lifting it up over his chin and exposing both his mouth and nose, for easier breathing. Though he’d been working in the hood for years, post match, it was always nice to get a couple of deep, clear breaths of air.
“Sir, Lusus-san, sir.. You have Call.” Was the frantic words still being repeated over and over intended to get the attention of the exhausted Lusus.
“What? Who- give me a phone..” Lusus grumbled as he acknowledged the young man who’d been trying to hand him a cellular phone unbeknownst to him.
“Sir, Here is phone.”
Lusus took the phone from the young boy then waved him on his way. “Hello?” Lusus said with reluctance. His facial expression quickly changed from wander to a scowl. Pulling his mask back down over his face, Lusus headed away from the backstage area where others were located.
“Yeah, in Texas? Championship match-up?” Lusus asked apparently awaiting a reply from the person who’d called him, every so urgently, while in Japan.
“Friday night, the twenty-fifth.. In Texas.” Lusus confirmed all the details aloud so that he’d hopefully remember. “Let me get my ticket changed, I’ll be there.”
-------------------------------------------
October 22th, 2019 @ 8:00pm
Dallas, Texas
Global Championship Wrestling Arena
On-Site Location Undetermined
-------------------------------------------
“Chaos is what we've lost touch with. This is why it is given a bad name. The syntactical nature of reality, is that the world is made of chaos. And if you know the chaos that the world is made of, you can make of it whatever you wish.” Johnathon Jacob Morrison began as he was the focal point of the camera shot. His narrative usually began this way- unhinged.
“Loneliness in a world of chaos has burned down what was left of the soul of the ‘Vendor of Violence’, that is why he’s chosen to hide in the shadows. As he takes you through the voids of darkness, you will hear the whispers of a thousand cries.” Johnathon Jacob Morrison continued on as the camera backed off a bit showing the massive ‘Merchant of Mayhem’ Lusus, standing directly behind him.
“You speak of battles in lands from afar, hatred and cruelty perpetrated from your common man. Vengeance begets blood. You can make up horrors but they will not help you deal with this real one.” Johnathon Jacob Morrison continued as Lusus cold glare pierced a hole through the glass lens of the video camera. Jet lag from the trip back across the pond, or sheer focus? Ducey J was set to find out.
"..Come take my hand, I'll walk you through the path of doom, from which you may never return,” Johnathon Jacob Morrison whispered into the camera, only inches away from the lens. “The path of the forsaken.. Yes, you Ducey J, come to die with me at the hands of-"
Lusus charged forward knocking his eloquent yet verbose manager out of the way in a fury. His chest heaved causing his shoulders to raise and lower, casting shadows of darkness every time they blocked out the light from behind.
“The BEHEMOTH BRUTE!” Lusus growled.