Post by Kuk Killswitch on Oct 4, 2012 3:16:31 GMT -5
Kuk Killswitch:"PCW will witness first hand the end of an era, and the birth of a new age. However, just as it is with life, so it was in PCW. With death, comes life, and after the dust settles on one hellacious match-up, we will see the birth of Kuk Killswitch, the new Scars of Wrestling Cup XII Winner."
The voice that emanates from behind the black veil of nothingness is powerful, and deep. The camera cuts from the blackness to static and finally to a rather blurred and obscured feed of a place that cannot be distinguished due to the unfocused camera lens. Without warning the dark silhouette of a hand is thrust into view, once more blocking the camera's feed. After several moments of fidgeting, the hand withdraws back, to reveal a crystal clear camera focus, and with it, a dingy windowless room, with nothing but a fire crackling merrily to one side, casting a faint and inviting orange glow across the dank concrete walls. The only piece of furniture in the room is a lone steel chair set up, facing the camera. Several sounds can be heard, with no change to the camera feed until a figure, wearing faded jeans, a white beater, and some Converse All Stars strides into frame and towards the chair, before rather carefully sitting down. The figure looks down at himself, and smooths out a couple of crinkles in his pants, and fixes his shoelaces, before lifting his cranium and staring into the camera, his cold, dead eyes showing no life nor passion, revealing the man to be Kuk Killswitch.
KK:"You did it Kuk! You reached the pinnacle after several years of dedication, hard work and perseverance. You fought through the pain, wiped away the sweat, spilt blood, both your own, and your opponents, and shed many a tear before reaching your crescendo."
Kuk's muscles in his face contract, as he concentrates hard on the words he is saying, and what he is going to say next. He sighs and thinks for several seconds, before continuing.
KK:"You did what you set out to do. You are in the big leagues, and are in the Scars of Wrestling Cup XII. If that isn't impressive enough, you managed to get into the Scars of Wrestling Cup XII without even lifting a finger. You are already on top, without even trying! You did it, Kuk. You did it."
Surprisingly, a sudden flicker of life flashes into the empty blackness of Kuk's eyes, making him seem less frightening, and without warning he smirks, the most cockiest smirk he has ever given. The sudden show of emotion cuts 5 years off of his age, and making him rather arrogant.
KK:"And after the match, I will show my true power. When I defeat 3 other opponents, a sudden rush of enjoyment will fall across my body. I know I am the future of PCW. I KNOW I am going to make it big in PCW. I know the future has finally arrived!"
He again smirks, before reaching down, out of shot and bringing a glass filled with Dr. Pepper. He tears his eyes away from the indulgent drink and flicks them back to the camera.
KK:"Here's to myself! The soon to be Scars of Wrestling Cup XII WINNER! The new face of PCW and the man who will defeat the unbeatable!"
With that, Kuk raises his glass and takes a sip, completing the pleasantry. After swallowing rather loudly, he places the glass back down on the floor below him, out of shot and again, returns his gaze to the camera.
KK:"Now that the obligatory congratulations, and the toast is out of the way, it is time to move on to more pressing matters."
The smirk that was on Kuk's face suddenly vanishes as quickly as it appeared, and the spirit in his eyes extinguishes, leaving them nothing more than a black abyss of lifelessness.
KK:"Anarchy will be the end of an era. Anarchy will be my stepping stone to the greater achievement. Anarchy will be the night I rise above manhood and take my place as a god! When I beat 3 other opponents, I WILL move on and take my rightful place as the Scars of Wrestling Cup XII Winner!"
Kuk's eyes are wide now, and his breathing is getting heavier, he clenches his fist and slams it into his thigh in anger.
KK:"You see, PCW thinks it is safe. It thinks it is safe from all harm. But what PCW doesn't understand is humanity cannot be saved. Humanity has crushed itself with it's self righteousness and egotistical manner. NO ONE can save humanity. The people will never be able to put aside their egos and their self absorption. The sooner you get that children, the sooner you will become like me. PURE!"
KK:"Now, come Anarchy, you 3 WILL be defeated. And I WILL beat you 3 within an inch of your life. Nobody will be able to stop me in this Scars of Wrestling Cup XII Match! And those who try and stand in my way, remember this....I have been craving a championship for a while now. I will do things beyond the realms of humanity in order to win a Championship. Stand in my way, I FUCKING DARE YOU!"
Kuk, in rage stands abruptly out of his chair, and breathes even heavier, his eyes ablaze with anger. He punches his hand rather menacingly, and cracks his neck by contorting it from one side to the other.
KK:"You see...Every man will have his dreams. Every man will have his aspirations. His ambitions. His triumphs. His goals. Some of us go through growing pains to find success, while others find it immediately. It's no different in this industry. And these achievements are determined and measured by two things; what we do in that squared circle, and how much blood is shed, and spilt on the canvas. Some men go twenty or twenty five years and reach the end of their careers with nothing to show for it but broken necks, back problems and severe arthritis. Others wrestle half as long, and through incidents, dangerous spots, and glorified brutality are forever remembered, whether beloved or hated. There is one man who has embodied this doctrine, these principles, and that man is The Hardcore Reject, Kuk Killswitch!"
Kuk sighs, relaxing himself slightly, before continuing.
KK:"I came on the horizon and have set the precedent for success. In my storied career I've stretched undefeated brutality over multiple years, have strapped many championships around my waist, and have shed enough blood to fill a bank. Many wrestlers measure their careers, and their successes off of ME! I grew up in a hard place known as Hell's Kitchen, New York and was a linear thinker, and a number, not unique, a layman, someone who never fit the mold, an outcast. And now I've built a legacy off of abstract thoughts, originality, and individuality. And for this I could wildly be considered the greatest wrestler of all time. Notice the choice of words I've chosen to use, wrestler. That's because I'M a wrestler, a performer. Wrestling is not based off of how many times you can eat a chair shot and still bare a bucked toothed smile, or if you can smash a light tube across someones cranium, make human lasagna by sliding a cheese grater across someones face or drive someone through a wooden table. But can you do it? Can you handle what I can handle? I earned a living from using power drills and hacksaws. Glorified brutality, senseless battery, that's hardcore, and that's something you can't handle! I never needed skill to swing chairs, or smash someone through a pane of glass, or split your face open, drown in my blood and the blood of my opponent, putting my body and well being on the line in an attempt to destroy my adversaries. But you know something, I CAN do it! I CAN walk into Anarchy and walk out with the win! I now have a chance to show PCW up in my own environment. I'm still new to PCW, you've 3 been here for a while. Tonight I've realized what I was oblivious to before. Tonight I have to- no I get to start my beginning. I welcome you to bring your pathetic tools, your ornaments, please bring your ladders, your steel chair, your light tubes, matches and lighter fluid, razor wire, glass panes, any and every instrument you must use to defeat me. You'll probably smash my face with a chair, toss me into the barbed wire, bust me wide open to the point where I might need to be carted out on a stretcher. And that's perfectly acceptable, because we'll be trapped in the ring come Anarchy, surrounded by the mutants they call fans. The only way you 3 will walk out of Anarchy with the win is by my death."
Kuk stares at the camera, not blinking, for several moments, reminiscing on the match. After a while, a smile crosses his lips, not a warm smile such as the one earlier, but one that chills you to the bone. Kuk reaches off camera and grabs a guitar and sits the guitar in his lap, the strings suddenly being plucked and strummed creating a vibration; by pressing down on the strings on the fretboard the length of the string is altered, therefore the vibration frequency. Those vibrations are transferred through the bridge and into the soundboard, which in turn vibrates the air inside the body. The resulting sound from the hole resonates throughout the small room as he begins playing the guitar, his head nodding in synchronization with the sound.
KK:"Tonight a legacy will fade..."
KK:"And a new sage is gonna be made..."
KK:"Because I'm walking out of Anarchy, to be the victor in our homecoming..."
KK:"And I'm gonna make you Kuk This, only you wont see it coming..."
Kuk laughs rather disturbingly, matching his smile with his laugh, enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. He tosses the guitar off camera and returns to his disturbing glare at the camera. Kuk cuts his laughter out, returning to his serious mode, and leans forward, intensifying his gaze into the depths of the camera.
KK:"It's sad really. 4 people go into war. 3 people wait on the eve of battle while one warrior prepares for WAR. At Anarchy, I will be your savior. I will beat you into unconsciousness and hopefully when you arise from your sleep, you will have faced reality and finally slip back into the void that is life."
Kuk rises to his feet once more and reaches down, picking up his glass of Dr. Pepper.
KK:"Keep believing that you can defeat me. Think it, sleep with the thought if you have to. The target that is on my back might be enormous, but when you 3 try to challenge me, that makes YOU a target. A target for The Hardcore Reject! My time in PCW may have just started, but already, your cards are dealt, and your fate has been decided. The dice are on my side, and they know it is only a matter of time before I beat you to an inch of your life, and hold my Scars of Wrestling Cup high above your head. You cannot stop me, children. You cannot change your destiny, and my destiny is currently waiting at the end of this Scars of Wrestling Cup XII Match. So enjoy your looks while you can, because sooner, rather than later, I will have to do a little reconstruction. Until then, that target on your back burns ever brighter, and gets ever larger. So lock your doors, shut your windows and lock them too. Hell, bar them. Look under your bed, and in your closet. You will never know where I will strike, but know this. I will always be watching. The Cup belongs to me, and to get it you have to go through ME! That makes YOU my target."
With that, Kuk raises his glass, downs his cold drink and hurls the glass at the wall. Upon the wall is a picture of Mariah Lopez, Mya Denton, and Leon Lonewolf, with a red target painted across their faces. The glass flies into the target, and hits all 3 dead in the center, which also happens to be right between theirs eyes, shattering into a million tiny, sparkling fragments. With one final glare at the camera, Kuk strides from view, and the camera cuts out.
The voice that emanates from behind the black veil of nothingness is powerful, and deep. The camera cuts from the blackness to static and finally to a rather blurred and obscured feed of a place that cannot be distinguished due to the unfocused camera lens. Without warning the dark silhouette of a hand is thrust into view, once more blocking the camera's feed. After several moments of fidgeting, the hand withdraws back, to reveal a crystal clear camera focus, and with it, a dingy windowless room, with nothing but a fire crackling merrily to one side, casting a faint and inviting orange glow across the dank concrete walls. The only piece of furniture in the room is a lone steel chair set up, facing the camera. Several sounds can be heard, with no change to the camera feed until a figure, wearing faded jeans, a white beater, and some Converse All Stars strides into frame and towards the chair, before rather carefully sitting down. The figure looks down at himself, and smooths out a couple of crinkles in his pants, and fixes his shoelaces, before lifting his cranium and staring into the camera, his cold, dead eyes showing no life nor passion, revealing the man to be Kuk Killswitch.
KK:"You did it Kuk! You reached the pinnacle after several years of dedication, hard work and perseverance. You fought through the pain, wiped away the sweat, spilt blood, both your own, and your opponents, and shed many a tear before reaching your crescendo."
Kuk's muscles in his face contract, as he concentrates hard on the words he is saying, and what he is going to say next. He sighs and thinks for several seconds, before continuing.
KK:"You did what you set out to do. You are in the big leagues, and are in the Scars of Wrestling Cup XII. If that isn't impressive enough, you managed to get into the Scars of Wrestling Cup XII without even lifting a finger. You are already on top, without even trying! You did it, Kuk. You did it."
Surprisingly, a sudden flicker of life flashes into the empty blackness of Kuk's eyes, making him seem less frightening, and without warning he smirks, the most cockiest smirk he has ever given. The sudden show of emotion cuts 5 years off of his age, and making him rather arrogant.
KK:"And after the match, I will show my true power. When I defeat 3 other opponents, a sudden rush of enjoyment will fall across my body. I know I am the future of PCW. I KNOW I am going to make it big in PCW. I know the future has finally arrived!"
He again smirks, before reaching down, out of shot and bringing a glass filled with Dr. Pepper. He tears his eyes away from the indulgent drink and flicks them back to the camera.
KK:"Here's to myself! The soon to be Scars of Wrestling Cup XII WINNER! The new face of PCW and the man who will defeat the unbeatable!"
With that, Kuk raises his glass and takes a sip, completing the pleasantry. After swallowing rather loudly, he places the glass back down on the floor below him, out of shot and again, returns his gaze to the camera.
KK:"Now that the obligatory congratulations, and the toast is out of the way, it is time to move on to more pressing matters."
The smirk that was on Kuk's face suddenly vanishes as quickly as it appeared, and the spirit in his eyes extinguishes, leaving them nothing more than a black abyss of lifelessness.
KK:"Anarchy will be the end of an era. Anarchy will be my stepping stone to the greater achievement. Anarchy will be the night I rise above manhood and take my place as a god! When I beat 3 other opponents, I WILL move on and take my rightful place as the Scars of Wrestling Cup XII Winner!"
Kuk's eyes are wide now, and his breathing is getting heavier, he clenches his fist and slams it into his thigh in anger.
KK:"You see, PCW thinks it is safe. It thinks it is safe from all harm. But what PCW doesn't understand is humanity cannot be saved. Humanity has crushed itself with it's self righteousness and egotistical manner. NO ONE can save humanity. The people will never be able to put aside their egos and their self absorption. The sooner you get that children, the sooner you will become like me. PURE!"
KK:"Now, come Anarchy, you 3 WILL be defeated. And I WILL beat you 3 within an inch of your life. Nobody will be able to stop me in this Scars of Wrestling Cup XII Match! And those who try and stand in my way, remember this....I have been craving a championship for a while now. I will do things beyond the realms of humanity in order to win a Championship. Stand in my way, I FUCKING DARE YOU!"
Kuk, in rage stands abruptly out of his chair, and breathes even heavier, his eyes ablaze with anger. He punches his hand rather menacingly, and cracks his neck by contorting it from one side to the other.
KK:"You see...Every man will have his dreams. Every man will have his aspirations. His ambitions. His triumphs. His goals. Some of us go through growing pains to find success, while others find it immediately. It's no different in this industry. And these achievements are determined and measured by two things; what we do in that squared circle, and how much blood is shed, and spilt on the canvas. Some men go twenty or twenty five years and reach the end of their careers with nothing to show for it but broken necks, back problems and severe arthritis. Others wrestle half as long, and through incidents, dangerous spots, and glorified brutality are forever remembered, whether beloved or hated. There is one man who has embodied this doctrine, these principles, and that man is The Hardcore Reject, Kuk Killswitch!"
Kuk sighs, relaxing himself slightly, before continuing.
KK:"I came on the horizon and have set the precedent for success. In my storied career I've stretched undefeated brutality over multiple years, have strapped many championships around my waist, and have shed enough blood to fill a bank. Many wrestlers measure their careers, and their successes off of ME! I grew up in a hard place known as Hell's Kitchen, New York and was a linear thinker, and a number, not unique, a layman, someone who never fit the mold, an outcast. And now I've built a legacy off of abstract thoughts, originality, and individuality. And for this I could wildly be considered the greatest wrestler of all time. Notice the choice of words I've chosen to use, wrestler. That's because I'M a wrestler, a performer. Wrestling is not based off of how many times you can eat a chair shot and still bare a bucked toothed smile, or if you can smash a light tube across someones cranium, make human lasagna by sliding a cheese grater across someones face or drive someone through a wooden table. But can you do it? Can you handle what I can handle? I earned a living from using power drills and hacksaws. Glorified brutality, senseless battery, that's hardcore, and that's something you can't handle! I never needed skill to swing chairs, or smash someone through a pane of glass, or split your face open, drown in my blood and the blood of my opponent, putting my body and well being on the line in an attempt to destroy my adversaries. But you know something, I CAN do it! I CAN walk into Anarchy and walk out with the win! I now have a chance to show PCW up in my own environment. I'm still new to PCW, you've 3 been here for a while. Tonight I've realized what I was oblivious to before. Tonight I have to- no I get to start my beginning. I welcome you to bring your pathetic tools, your ornaments, please bring your ladders, your steel chair, your light tubes, matches and lighter fluid, razor wire, glass panes, any and every instrument you must use to defeat me. You'll probably smash my face with a chair, toss me into the barbed wire, bust me wide open to the point where I might need to be carted out on a stretcher. And that's perfectly acceptable, because we'll be trapped in the ring come Anarchy, surrounded by the mutants they call fans. The only way you 3 will walk out of Anarchy with the win is by my death."
Kuk stares at the camera, not blinking, for several moments, reminiscing on the match. After a while, a smile crosses his lips, not a warm smile such as the one earlier, but one that chills you to the bone. Kuk reaches off camera and grabs a guitar and sits the guitar in his lap, the strings suddenly being plucked and strummed creating a vibration; by pressing down on the strings on the fretboard the length of the string is altered, therefore the vibration frequency. Those vibrations are transferred through the bridge and into the soundboard, which in turn vibrates the air inside the body. The resulting sound from the hole resonates throughout the small room as he begins playing the guitar, his head nodding in synchronization with the sound.
KK:"Tonight a legacy will fade..."
KK:"And a new sage is gonna be made..."
KK:"Because I'm walking out of Anarchy, to be the victor in our homecoming..."
KK:"And I'm gonna make you Kuk This, only you wont see it coming..."
Kuk laughs rather disturbingly, matching his smile with his laugh, enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. He tosses the guitar off camera and returns to his disturbing glare at the camera. Kuk cuts his laughter out, returning to his serious mode, and leans forward, intensifying his gaze into the depths of the camera.
KK:"It's sad really. 4 people go into war. 3 people wait on the eve of battle while one warrior prepares for WAR. At Anarchy, I will be your savior. I will beat you into unconsciousness and hopefully when you arise from your sleep, you will have faced reality and finally slip back into the void that is life."
Kuk rises to his feet once more and reaches down, picking up his glass of Dr. Pepper.
KK:"Keep believing that you can defeat me. Think it, sleep with the thought if you have to. The target that is on my back might be enormous, but when you 3 try to challenge me, that makes YOU a target. A target for The Hardcore Reject! My time in PCW may have just started, but already, your cards are dealt, and your fate has been decided. The dice are on my side, and they know it is only a matter of time before I beat you to an inch of your life, and hold my Scars of Wrestling Cup high above your head. You cannot stop me, children. You cannot change your destiny, and my destiny is currently waiting at the end of this Scars of Wrestling Cup XII Match. So enjoy your looks while you can, because sooner, rather than later, I will have to do a little reconstruction. Until then, that target on your back burns ever brighter, and gets ever larger. So lock your doors, shut your windows and lock them too. Hell, bar them. Look under your bed, and in your closet. You will never know where I will strike, but know this. I will always be watching. The Cup belongs to me, and to get it you have to go through ME! That makes YOU my target."
With that, Kuk raises his glass, downs his cold drink and hurls the glass at the wall. Upon the wall is a picture of Mariah Lopez, Mya Denton, and Leon Lonewolf, with a red target painted across their faces. The glass flies into the target, and hits all 3 dead in the center, which also happens to be right between theirs eyes, shattering into a million tiny, sparkling fragments. With one final glare at the camera, Kuk strides from view, and the camera cuts out.
