Peoples King
08-18-2006, 11:36 AM
The sound of a distant police siren ripping through the night air greets a shot of a muggy sky. The camera moves down slowly giving us an almost landscape view of a filthy city street. Many of the tenament style buildings are derilict and boarded up with the few occupied ones showing to the outside world filthy windows and the view of miserable rooms. A lone bum pushes a shopping cart full of junk along the street, a drug dealer plys his trade on the far corner. The pavement is cracked, the street potholed. This is the very essence of misery in city life. The lights of an on-coming car illuminate cracks on the road as a black jeep with tinted windows pulls up alongside the camera. Quickly the cameraman moves around the jeep to catch a site of the driver stepping out. The door opens and the large frame of Boris steps out onto the street. The Black Russian is wearing a tailored creamy white suit with a black open-necked black shirt underneath. The Peoples King has obviously been expanding his charges wardrobe. Boris closes the door and clicks on the alarm. He looks around the street emotionless and steps up onto the pavement. The sound of a neon light can be heard buzzing and the camera follows Boris's eyes before catching sight of the illuminated sign reading "Madame Goneril." There is almost an embarrased look on the Black Russians face as he looks up and down the street before stooping to go through Madame Gonerils doorway.
Boris pushes through a door of beads before the scent of incense hits his nostrils. The room is decorated with rich and tacky colours, like a knackers caravan. Various ornaments and charms hang from the ceiling or the walls. In the center of the room is a round table with a fortune ball sitting of an ornate stand. Two chairs sit at opposite ends of the table which has a richly coloured red cloth thrown over it. Boris stands awkwardly for a moment and tries to peer through the bead door at the otherside of the room from where he entered. A voice, steeped in the mystic calls out from the back.
Voice: Enter my child.... Do not fear what others do not wish to understabd. Sit...... sit.
Boris pulls back the chair and angles himself into it awkwardly, his massive frame conspirering to keep him out of it. The faint sound of a bell ringing comes from the back before the beads part to reveal Madame Goneril in all her glory. Her dress sense runs much along the lines of her profession with a head of rich, slightly curling black hair. Her face has an Eastern European feel to it, with fine lines drawn down it and heavy bags under her dark eyes. She floats as she walks to the table in the center of the ring, judging Boris as she moves. As is the case always the Black Russian remains poker faced. Goneril takes a seat across from Boris. She studies his face, his eyes, his mouth as if she is trying to find the passage into his soul. Goneril lays out her hands, palms up, on the table. Boris looks at her worn hands for a second before placing his on hers. She flinches at the touch and stares astonished into the eyes of the monster.
Goneril: My child, you seem to be leading a troubled life in the servitude of others. You........ You would lay down your life for your master and follow him to the very depths of hell. Your soul is being blackened by each day that you spend with your overlord. I am not so sure if this is where your heart truely lies but this man who has power over you has a grip on your heart. You are on a journey...... A journey for him? Yes, yes you are on a crusade for your master. He failed to complete the crusade he himself set out upon and now has left it to you to vanquish his enemy. Why? What dark deals has this man made with the devil? What dark deeds are you willing to carry out in the name of this master? Anything? Anything...... Yes, whatever is asked of you. What you owe this man I cannot see but you seem to feel a debt of gratitude toward him. You are at his every beck and call yet there is something more. He commands you as much as you look after and protect him. This is more then just a business relationship, you are blood brothers tied by an unbroken bound of loyality in blood. Yes, his blood courses through your veins. My child don't you see that this is what blackens your heart and leads you down this road where redemption cannot be found. His blood, his lifes esence. What will you do to his enemies........ No, his enemies are your enemies. What will you do? Terrible deeds, I see visions of horror, destructions and human suffering. What is in your heart my child? Your heart...... Your heart......
With one quick move Boris grabs hold of her wrists and pulls her out of her chair and halfway onto the table. Her eyes show a look of terror as the blood in her veins grows cold. Boris twists the arm enough to send a shot of pain through it without doing any damage. Madame Gonerils whole body shakes as Boris moves her open palm toward his chest. The Black Russians face remains like stone as her shaking palm touches his heart. Boris closes his eyes as Gonerils body goes rigid, her head tilts up and her eyes roll back into her skull. Her body goes limp as if the life has been sucked out of her. Her face falls flat on the table and Boris lets go of her hand letting it drop. Goneril moves the hand and slowly angles up her head, the whites of her eyes the only thing visible and siclk smile on her face. As Goneril speaks her voice is no longer hers but demon like as her body has become a vessel from which Boris can speak.
Goneril/Boris: Where does my heart lie? My heart lies where my master wishes it to lie. I am not a mere wrestler like the rest of the WPW roster. I am something greater, something no mere mortal could come to understand or comprehend. In service to my master I find eternal bliss and physcological sanctuary from my thoughts and inner most feelings. I serve a greater cause then the cause of self that most of you follow like the Jews followed Moses out of Eygpt. My life is a cause of servitude to a greater man, a greater leader and greater soul. I serve Dust, my King and only true remaining friend. Whatever stands in his way stands in mine and will be dealt with accordingly. My masters aims are my goals and I will do whatever is necessary in order to help him realise his dreams and make good on the sacrifices he has made to get to where he is today. Does this make me an empty vessel, a mere servant and foot soldier? Far from it. When you follow a man of such magnitude and class then you become something more yourself. Your life is worth something and it is he and he alone that you must thank and be greatful too. My religion is directed pain, suffering and human misery. My director is my King and yours, the Peoples King Dust. Up until now I have stood beside him and helped wherever necessary. Next Tuesday I step from behind him and into the frontlines to deal with a man my master already dealt with and should not have to worry about. Next Tuesday at Turmoil it is time for Boris to step between the ropes and make good on my blood sacrifice. I will go into that ring and vanquish the man that stands between the King and is right to be WPW WorldHeavyweight champion. The One, you step into the ring with me at Turmoil and you step into the heart of darkness.
Boris stays seated as the entranced Goneril slides down off the table and into her chair. She grips both arms of the chair as her head wavers from left to right. She breaths out almost orgasmically, Boris's spirit still within her.
Boris/Goneril: I know your kind One. You see I was once what you are now. Like you there was a Voice, a man in the shadows that spoke into my ear and had a passport to my soul. As you do now I followed the instructions of this voice blindly, not thinking if this was the path set out for me from birth. It was the wrong path One. The path this Voice set me out on very nearly led to my destruction. I knew in my core that this was destroying my but yet I could not stop, I could not say no to the whisperings of this Voice of the shadows. I was lost and near to break down when he found me. I finally found the path that I was too follow. From birth we are all given a destiny and my destiny was to follow a better master then the Voice I had before. Dust saved me from myself and saved me from the shadows that nearly engulfed me. He gave me purpose in his own, he gave me a reason to live and breath and fight for something I believed in. He gave me a path to follow. See I was like you and like me you too can be saved from this voice and from yourself. For now, One, you are on a path wish will only lead you to defeat, humiliation and death. For now you are following the wrong road, one not suitable for your kind, for our kind. Your master is a false God, a voice that instigates and unknowing to yourself controls you. My master is the one shining light in this company. The one true God of wrestling. Step off this path One, make yourself a new destiny. Make yourself a desting alongside Dust. Here is man that gave me oppertunity to serve a greater cause. He can do the same for you. Now, you serve your own cause. You look to become WPW WorldHeavyweight champion a goal you know deep that you cannot hope to achieve. Follow a greater power, follow the Peoples King and give meaning to your struggle in life. Join my master or face destruction at the hands of the Black Russian. You have your choice.
Gonerils eyes flicker as though she is about to come out of the trance but her head snaps back, facing to the ceiling and she is still trapped. Boris remains seated with his eyes closed.
Boris/Goneril: You have heard what I have to say. Take it in, think it over and come to a clear and concious decision. You know as well as I that what speak is the truth. Should you do the right thing then I will let you lay down at Turmoil. Should you follow that Voice and follow the useless path to the WPW WorldHeavyweight title then I will destroy you. Dust, my master has given me a task to retain his rightful Number One Contender spot. Either you help me with my task or face the consequence. I will not hesitate to make you bleed. Should the oppertunity come I will not hesitate to end your career once and for all. This is not your time, this is not my time. This is the time of Dust. It is time for the Peoples King to take his throne as King of WPW and be crowned WPW WorldHeavyweight. This journey that Dust is embarking upon is far greater then you or I One. We are insignificant nothings in the scheme of things but Dust is something more. So lay down at Turmoil. Do not fight it, except it and join a greater cause. I look foreward to hearing from you and hope for the sake of your soul that you make the right decision. You have been humiliated once already, don't make it any harder on yourself then it already has been. Dont quote Dust......... Just fear him.
For the second time Madame Gonerils body goes limp, her arms hanging limply over the chair and her head thrown back. Boris slowly opens his eyes and stands. He looks on the exhausted body of the Mystique before turning and heading for the door. A groan comes from the throat of Goneril stopping Boris in his tracks. He half turns as Goneril raises her head with much trouble to look at him.
Goneril: The Heart of Darkness......... You will follow your master to the depths of hell. Hear me my child, you will be in that hell sooner then you can imagine....... The Heart of Darkness.......... The Heart of Darkness......... The Heart of Darkness........ The Heart of Darkness
Goneril goes on mumbling these words as Boris leaves her. The camera stays focused on the spent Mystique before slowly fading to black.
Boris pushes through a door of beads before the scent of incense hits his nostrils. The room is decorated with rich and tacky colours, like a knackers caravan. Various ornaments and charms hang from the ceiling or the walls. In the center of the room is a round table with a fortune ball sitting of an ornate stand. Two chairs sit at opposite ends of the table which has a richly coloured red cloth thrown over it. Boris stands awkwardly for a moment and tries to peer through the bead door at the otherside of the room from where he entered. A voice, steeped in the mystic calls out from the back.
Voice: Enter my child.... Do not fear what others do not wish to understabd. Sit...... sit.
Boris pulls back the chair and angles himself into it awkwardly, his massive frame conspirering to keep him out of it. The faint sound of a bell ringing comes from the back before the beads part to reveal Madame Goneril in all her glory. Her dress sense runs much along the lines of her profession with a head of rich, slightly curling black hair. Her face has an Eastern European feel to it, with fine lines drawn down it and heavy bags under her dark eyes. She floats as she walks to the table in the center of the ring, judging Boris as she moves. As is the case always the Black Russian remains poker faced. Goneril takes a seat across from Boris. She studies his face, his eyes, his mouth as if she is trying to find the passage into his soul. Goneril lays out her hands, palms up, on the table. Boris looks at her worn hands for a second before placing his on hers. She flinches at the touch and stares astonished into the eyes of the monster.
Goneril: My child, you seem to be leading a troubled life in the servitude of others. You........ You would lay down your life for your master and follow him to the very depths of hell. Your soul is being blackened by each day that you spend with your overlord. I am not so sure if this is where your heart truely lies but this man who has power over you has a grip on your heart. You are on a journey...... A journey for him? Yes, yes you are on a crusade for your master. He failed to complete the crusade he himself set out upon and now has left it to you to vanquish his enemy. Why? What dark deals has this man made with the devil? What dark deeds are you willing to carry out in the name of this master? Anything? Anything...... Yes, whatever is asked of you. What you owe this man I cannot see but you seem to feel a debt of gratitude toward him. You are at his every beck and call yet there is something more. He commands you as much as you look after and protect him. This is more then just a business relationship, you are blood brothers tied by an unbroken bound of loyality in blood. Yes, his blood courses through your veins. My child don't you see that this is what blackens your heart and leads you down this road where redemption cannot be found. His blood, his lifes esence. What will you do to his enemies........ No, his enemies are your enemies. What will you do? Terrible deeds, I see visions of horror, destructions and human suffering. What is in your heart my child? Your heart...... Your heart......
With one quick move Boris grabs hold of her wrists and pulls her out of her chair and halfway onto the table. Her eyes show a look of terror as the blood in her veins grows cold. Boris twists the arm enough to send a shot of pain through it without doing any damage. Madame Gonerils whole body shakes as Boris moves her open palm toward his chest. The Black Russians face remains like stone as her shaking palm touches his heart. Boris closes his eyes as Gonerils body goes rigid, her head tilts up and her eyes roll back into her skull. Her body goes limp as if the life has been sucked out of her. Her face falls flat on the table and Boris lets go of her hand letting it drop. Goneril moves the hand and slowly angles up her head, the whites of her eyes the only thing visible and siclk smile on her face. As Goneril speaks her voice is no longer hers but demon like as her body has become a vessel from which Boris can speak.
Goneril/Boris: Where does my heart lie? My heart lies where my master wishes it to lie. I am not a mere wrestler like the rest of the WPW roster. I am something greater, something no mere mortal could come to understand or comprehend. In service to my master I find eternal bliss and physcological sanctuary from my thoughts and inner most feelings. I serve a greater cause then the cause of self that most of you follow like the Jews followed Moses out of Eygpt. My life is a cause of servitude to a greater man, a greater leader and greater soul. I serve Dust, my King and only true remaining friend. Whatever stands in his way stands in mine and will be dealt with accordingly. My masters aims are my goals and I will do whatever is necessary in order to help him realise his dreams and make good on the sacrifices he has made to get to where he is today. Does this make me an empty vessel, a mere servant and foot soldier? Far from it. When you follow a man of such magnitude and class then you become something more yourself. Your life is worth something and it is he and he alone that you must thank and be greatful too. My religion is directed pain, suffering and human misery. My director is my King and yours, the Peoples King Dust. Up until now I have stood beside him and helped wherever necessary. Next Tuesday I step from behind him and into the frontlines to deal with a man my master already dealt with and should not have to worry about. Next Tuesday at Turmoil it is time for Boris to step between the ropes and make good on my blood sacrifice. I will go into that ring and vanquish the man that stands between the King and is right to be WPW WorldHeavyweight champion. The One, you step into the ring with me at Turmoil and you step into the heart of darkness.
Boris stays seated as the entranced Goneril slides down off the table and into her chair. She grips both arms of the chair as her head wavers from left to right. She breaths out almost orgasmically, Boris's spirit still within her.
Boris/Goneril: I know your kind One. You see I was once what you are now. Like you there was a Voice, a man in the shadows that spoke into my ear and had a passport to my soul. As you do now I followed the instructions of this voice blindly, not thinking if this was the path set out for me from birth. It was the wrong path One. The path this Voice set me out on very nearly led to my destruction. I knew in my core that this was destroying my but yet I could not stop, I could not say no to the whisperings of this Voice of the shadows. I was lost and near to break down when he found me. I finally found the path that I was too follow. From birth we are all given a destiny and my destiny was to follow a better master then the Voice I had before. Dust saved me from myself and saved me from the shadows that nearly engulfed me. He gave me purpose in his own, he gave me a reason to live and breath and fight for something I believed in. He gave me a path to follow. See I was like you and like me you too can be saved from this voice and from yourself. For now, One, you are on a path wish will only lead you to defeat, humiliation and death. For now you are following the wrong road, one not suitable for your kind, for our kind. Your master is a false God, a voice that instigates and unknowing to yourself controls you. My master is the one shining light in this company. The one true God of wrestling. Step off this path One, make yourself a new destiny. Make yourself a desting alongside Dust. Here is man that gave me oppertunity to serve a greater cause. He can do the same for you. Now, you serve your own cause. You look to become WPW WorldHeavyweight champion a goal you know deep that you cannot hope to achieve. Follow a greater power, follow the Peoples King and give meaning to your struggle in life. Join my master or face destruction at the hands of the Black Russian. You have your choice.
Gonerils eyes flicker as though she is about to come out of the trance but her head snaps back, facing to the ceiling and she is still trapped. Boris remains seated with his eyes closed.
Boris/Goneril: You have heard what I have to say. Take it in, think it over and come to a clear and concious decision. You know as well as I that what speak is the truth. Should you do the right thing then I will let you lay down at Turmoil. Should you follow that Voice and follow the useless path to the WPW WorldHeavyweight title then I will destroy you. Dust, my master has given me a task to retain his rightful Number One Contender spot. Either you help me with my task or face the consequence. I will not hesitate to make you bleed. Should the oppertunity come I will not hesitate to end your career once and for all. This is not your time, this is not my time. This is the time of Dust. It is time for the Peoples King to take his throne as King of WPW and be crowned WPW WorldHeavyweight. This journey that Dust is embarking upon is far greater then you or I One. We are insignificant nothings in the scheme of things but Dust is something more. So lay down at Turmoil. Do not fight it, except it and join a greater cause. I look foreward to hearing from you and hope for the sake of your soul that you make the right decision. You have been humiliated once already, don't make it any harder on yourself then it already has been. Dont quote Dust......... Just fear him.
For the second time Madame Gonerils body goes limp, her arms hanging limply over the chair and her head thrown back. Boris slowly opens his eyes and stands. He looks on the exhausted body of the Mystique before turning and heading for the door. A groan comes from the throat of Goneril stopping Boris in his tracks. He half turns as Goneril raises her head with much trouble to look at him.
Goneril: The Heart of Darkness......... You will follow your master to the depths of hell. Hear me my child, you will be in that hell sooner then you can imagine....... The Heart of Darkness.......... The Heart of Darkness......... The Heart of Darkness........ The Heart of Darkness
Goneril goes on mumbling these words as Boris leaves her. The camera stays focused on the spent Mystique before slowly fading to black.