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Post by Admin on Jul 12, 2021 12:00:52 GMT -6
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Boiler Room Match
Tyke Index vs The GeistRoleplay Limit: ONERoleplay Deadline: Saturday, July 24, 2021 @ 7PM Central |
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Post by SolomonCain on Jul 12, 2021 16:25:53 GMT -6
All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for the daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Cruelty. Pronounced, cru-el-ty. Cruelty is a noun, meaning callous indifference to or pleasure in causing pain and suffering. Used in a sentence, "he has treated her with extreme cruelty"
Is it bad to be cruel?
No.
People will tell you that it is, but people are fearful, and fear makes you dumb.
The world uses morality and social standards to conform you and chain the beast inside of you. They say that someone who is not capable of cruelty is of a higher moral standing. They are wrong.
Dangerously wrong.
If you are not capable of cruelty, then you are going to be a victim to someone who is capable of cruelty.
People flock to “dark characters”, to “anti-heroes”, and to the “bad guys”.
They flock to individuals who are feared, but still, display cruelty because deep down in their subconscious they are crying out for the monster that lives inside of them to be unshackled and set free.
This monster is what gives you the strength of character and self-respect because when you are a sniveling coward it is impossible to respect yourself. Until you let that monster go, until you grow claws, and until you know that you can indeed inflict damage when damage needs to be inflicted, when cruelty is needed… you cannot respect yourself.
When you do not respect yourself… no one else will respect you either.
When you do not know how to be fearful… no one else will fear you.
Being able to be cruel… is good.
Do not be weak and naive… be dangerous.
For being weak, just so you can be liked is mad.
But.
This is a mad world.
And in this mad world, I’d rather be cruel and hated than weak and loved.
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head, I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow
I once was young and had no claws. I hadn’t begun to know the monster hidden inside of me.
Cruelty befell me.
It made me grow into a monster. I developed teeth and claws. Teeth and claws I use to rip open the soft bellies of those who aren’t cruel, right before I dine on their intestines.
It’s ok to scream when I claw you open, I’ve been there before. I clawed into my own self, dug deep into a pit to find my own cruelty.
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very, very
Mad world
Mad world
Why am I trying to catch this light,
When it runs away
Just as the last.
Why can't I understand,
That to touch it
Is impossible once passed?
But it's a beauty I am left
Entranced, wishing for it
To hold in my hands,
But trying is frailty better left
In the bottomless pit
I found it in.
For the fly cannot be caught,
Only forgotten to be left alone,
Or swatted after the annoyance.
The light cast before me,
Was not a light,
Just another caught up in their own image,
Gathering a flock of bleating men
Who would swear, each of them,
That the light chose them.
A light only passing by to turn heads,
Is a light better left forsaken,
Never to be admired again.
This game I will not play,
But no worries, little cruelty,
Beyond me await many more to ensnare
Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy birthday, happy birthday
And I feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen, sit and listen
I sit alone in the dark. I have been sitting alone in the dark for quite some time now. Longer than minutes, longer than hours, longer than days… my entire life has been sitting in the darkness. Born unto darkness, never to see the light. I spread this darkness, spread it far and wide, spread it low and high… even a mile high.
Why have I come here, you ask?
I’ve always been here.
I was here before time was recorded. I was here before the Rocky Mountains were formed. Before the retched walked the Earth.
Before the light, when there was just darkness.
All of our lives begin and end with Darkness.
This darkness surrounds me currently. My red eyes begin to glow piercing the darkness and my voice begins to speak in a booming fashion that shakes a mere mortal man to his core.
Tyke, I miss you. The old you. This new you is so... well, pathetic. Every time I see you, you are shriveled in fear and crippled by self-doubt. I know you think I want to kill you, and I do. I want to kill you the new you, so that you may be resurrected.
Resurrected as the old you.
Come back to us Tyke.
Be resurrected like Lazarus.
But, to do so, first, you must...
DIE!
YOU MUST DIE TO BE BORN AGAIN!
I do not mean born again as in Christianity.
NO!
Not a spiritual rebirth. Not even a mental rebirth.
A complete death and resurrection.
I tried to make it easy on you. To make it quick and painless, but your fear of death is greater than I had anticipated. So, I tried to make it easier for you. I tried to make you more comfortable with death. The bodies and images I revealed to you, and you alone.
Those were special Tyke; they were just for you.
But...
You didn't appreciate it. You tried to share what was supposed to be just for us, like a little whore. So, I had to take it away and hide it.
But, like you and cocaine, I just couldn't quit you.
That is why I took you at Throw Down. I took you to the bowels of the Magness arena to finish this life you have now, so you may have a new one. Sadly, we were interrupted.
How disappointing.
Sad face.
On the bright side though.
Bright side... hahaha.
Oh, excuse me. Bright... bright...
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS THE BRIGHT SIDE!
Darkness has consumed me, it has consumed the world, and now it will consume you.
I will consume you Tyke.
You may think I'm mad, and I am. After all, this is a mad world, a very, very, mad world.
Are you mad Tyke?
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very, very
Mad world, mad world
No, you are scared, and there is a difference. When it is time for fight or flight, your brain chooses flight. It is why you run so much.
I'll fix that.
When I resurrect you, I wire you for fight. I'll wire you not to tremble in fear at the thought of a Bullet, not to fear what's in Zombie’s head, not to fear death.
The old Tyke will be back. The Tyke Index that stalked RJ Mitchell and scared her away from Mile High. The Tyke Index that hung Solomon Cain and almost killed him. The Tyke Index that brought the Reaper to Mile High. The Tyke Index that was the scourge of Mile High Wrestling.
I'm tired of this tragic poet.
The only thing that is really tragic is that you lost your edge Tyke. You lost your killer instinct. You lost your nerve. You lost your balls. You lose your claws.
Does Bullet have your balls in a jar on her mantel?
Does Zombie have your claws in a jar on her nightstand?
I'll give them back to you when I rebuild you... your balls and your claws.
No more tragic poet, no addict, just the clever and creepy Tyke everyone loved to hate. The Tyke Index people shivered over when they saw their name across from on a card.
Not the man who simply sat down and gave up when the world was exploding around him. Not the man who was embarrassed by a little girl and forced to tap out in the middle of the ring.
NO!
That is not the Tyke Index we all love and hate.
That is a tragic poet, who has no claws, no teeth, no balls, and no hope of ever surviving in a world of cruel monsters.
Will you shrivel and die Tyke?
Lights flash around me, revealing several dead bodies, each of them is Tyke Index. One lays at my feet disemboweled. One hangs from the neck while several are dismembered. The light flashes quickly and then goes off completely leaving us again in darkness.
Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
Hello, teacher! Tell me, what's my lesson?
Look right through me, look right through me
Are you nervous Tyke?
Are you afraid?
Or…
Are you curious?
Curious as to who I am. Curious as to why it is you I have singled out. Curious as to how this will all end.
A single light hanging above me appears. It reveals my body, but not my identity. A black hood hangs over my face, only my glowing red eyes shine through. My upper body is covered in a black hoodie that fits tightly against my large upper body. I sit at stainless steel table, the bottom half of which is still consumed in darkness.
Onto the table, I slam a severed head, the head of Tyke Index. The color had drained away from his skin as the blood had drained from the severed head. His eyelids are shut and his tongue hangs from his mouth. I move my hand from his scuffled hair and begin moving his lips as my voice changes to mimic his.
Dear diary, I died yesterday. I was so scared at first, but then I realized it wasn’t death I was scared of, it was The Geist. He was so big and scary, and it made something in my stomach twist into knots. Then it struck me, he reminded me of the brooding gym teacher who fondled me in the boy’s locker room in prep school.
It conjured up the same feelings. I felt fear, and I felt insecure, but also, exciting. I knew that I was helpless to him, and while it made me so afraid, I also had never felt so alive. Coach Wilson made me into a man, and now The Geist has made me into a new man.
My leather glove-covered hand releases Tyke's lips and I return to my normal voice.
Tyke, Tyke, Tyke, you are wrong again.
WRONG! WRONG! WRONG!
I am will not be making a man out of you, I will be making a monster out of you. There will be no pleasure in this pain. Well, no pleasure for you that is. But for me, it will be oh so sweet, and oh so pleasurable. We’ve missed you Tyke, and I’m going to bring back the old Tyke if I have to drag him back kicking and screaming.
SCREAM!
SCREAM FOR YOUR LIFE!
Scream until you injure your vocal cords and cause yourself a hemorrhage. Besides, it isn’t like you won’t be bleeding already.
THERE WILL BE BLOOD.
I grab Tyke’s severed head by the hair and throw it at the viewers. The decapitated cranium strikes the lens, shaking the view. The blood smears on the lens and cracks it. The crack and the smeared blood now obscure the view even more.
It may be visible to see my large frame as I stand from the table, but one would have to look closely through the broken glass and smeared blood. I am much larger than Tyke, one of the largest figures to ever inhabit this place called Mile High.
Mile High has become infected by women who think they are dangerous animals, but in reality, their claws are just pressed on nails. By rabid dogs, masked backyard wrestling marks, failed MCs, and it is run by a couple who would rather play out a bad episode of Keeping up with the Kardashians than run a company. You should be feared here Tyke, you should be the bane of everyone’s existence.
Instead…
You are nothing more than a declawed, domesticated house cat.
That is truly tragic.
Your ending will not be poetic, it will be bloody and violent.
Rest well sweet prince, for soon you will die and be reborn as a foul and violent monster.
The monster we all know you can and should be.
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very, very
Mad world
Mad world
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