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Post by Mark Storm on Mar 25, 2017 16:33:47 GMT -6
"I've never been good at stories."
I'm too inconsistent, incoherent, and when it comes to it I can barely get anything out of my mouth. I guess it's a character flaw. Don't get me wrong, I'm good at trash talkin', but that's part of my profession. But when it comes to delving within, and finding a subject relatively close to the person I am outside of the ring, I stumble. Because the truth is, who I am inside the ring is a completely different person to who I am out of it. A lot of people say that "I am, what you see", that's not the case for me.
Never has been.
Becoming someone else entirely when I step in the ring, it's something that just happens; it's natural and organic. But outside of that, I keep myself to myself - with not many friends, enough to get by, an on and off relationship with the mother of my child, who's coming up to her first birthday.
I don't talk much.
Gretchen says that's why we never worked out. She says never, but she still lets me in whenever I knock. It's like she's addicted, she just can't get enough. But I'm the same. We're toxic and we know it. But there'll come a day where she meets some stud who fulfills all her needs. That day is coming. But until that day, I'll cling to whatever we have right now. But that's enough for me. Her presence, is enough for me.
But back to the subject in hand; stories, nah, that's never been me. I have an abundance of them but I could never tell em. Because if I tell the world, or even you, it's out there, it's not mine anymore. I'm exposed and thought of that scares me to death. Scares me than anything. I don't want to be an open book. I'm a closed book buried deep in the archives of your local library, that book that you keep searching for but can't find. People know enough.. they know I'm a schizo, and going off that they've already got an idea of who I am as a person.
Funny, isn't it?
But I'm not the guy people think I am. I'm not. I promise you that. I'm much more and maybe, just maybe.. I'll let you, I'll let the world in.
There's a silence once Mark finished his sentence. His hands tucked into his pockets with his arms tightly by his side as he stood nervously, nodding his head ever so slightly whilst his eyes were shut, tight. A gentle applause ensued, which got louder and louder, forcing Storm to open his eyes and acknowledge those around him. His routine support group applauding him as he stood humbly, a smile beginning to etch on his face as he retreated backwards towards his seat, and with a smirk he collapsed down to his seat.
This was tough for him.
It'd been a while, since he last shared. But that was with a completely different group, and these people he was surrounded with, they were all new to him. His shrink Lisa Erickson advised him to visit one of the sessions and here he was, bubbling with pride as he laid back in his seat, clasping his hands together. He literally knew no one, although the man who was taking the session did look oddly familiar.
"Thank you, Mark." the man said, with an assertive British accent, getting up to his feet and winking at him. "Guys, that's it for this week. You know the drill, there's some refreshments on your way out - it's been great to see you all, and I'll see you this time next week!"
And with that said, the class rose to their seat and headed toward the exit. All apart from Storm, who remained in his seat - looking at the head of the session, who had his back against Storm, shuffling pieces of paper and placing them into his backpack.
He knew him. He recognized him. But he couldn't quite nail down where from.
He was tall; of black descent, British with a decent build, you'd think he'd gym just by the look of him, around the age of 40, maybe even pushing towards 45?
"Mark Storm.. Erickson told me you were gonna make an effort, but I didn't think you'd actually come."
The man said, which gained the attention of Storm who had been daydreaming.
"She spoke so highly of you." He spoke softly, scoffing before continuing. "Had to come down, see what all of this was about, y'know?"
Mark got to his feet as the man turned around, a smile embedded on his face.
"Did it help?" He inquired, with a genuine care. "Y'know, coming down here and sharing, must've been tough. Especially since you've been ghosting for quite some time."
"How did you know?" Mark was intrigued, was he fan? Maybe that's where he'd seen him, a few shows, maybe he'd been there as a spectator.
He laughed, zipping his back and throwing it over his shoulder. "Someone like Mark Storm decides he doesn't want to wrestle anymore, but without any say, or even any indication.. he just vanishes. People notice things Mark." Or maybe he was just smart. "Did it help though, in all seriousness?"
"Yeah, I hadn't uh.. y'know, been around many people.. lately.. I guess uh, all of my friends.. are still pretty pissed I kinda just up and left."
"Do you think they should be?"
Mark snarled, "How much you chargin' an hour?"
The man laughed as a response; "I'm being serious! No bullshit, no hourly, just two guys having a conversation."
"Yeah I guess you're right. But yeah.. I haven't been a good.. uh.. a good friend, lately."
Shelley Silver - gone. Gabreal Martin - gone. Olivia Saint - gone. Jay Reynolds - gone.
All of his friends, gone.
Why was he so content with that?
"Yeah, we've all been there, trust me."
By now the two men were out in the open, with the cold air brushing pass the both of them.
"Do I know you from somewhere? I mean.. have I seen you before?" He was dying to ask, and it just came out.
The man laughed; wrapping a scarf round his neck and turning to Mark, with a grin on his face.
"Oh come on.. it hasn't been that long, Mark."
He said whilst walking away, with the weather picking up; he obviously had somewhere to be, as he was in a hurry. "I'll see you next week!" He shouted, turning away and running off into the distance, with something dropping out of his pocket. "Wait!" Mark shouted but he was too late. He walked up toward the piece of paper that dropped out of his pocket, picking it up, it read; Ezekiel James.
YOUR HERO, AND MINE.
...
"Your hero, and mine.
My hero, and yours."
Online Championship Wrestling.
This is my home.
Before I went on to become the EWC World Heavyweight Champion and garner championship after championship, beat opponent after opponent, this was the place that allowed me to be who I am. This was the place that saw me grow as a individual and though I was juvenile during my time here, I learned a lot about this business, about people and about myself. What I learned here is that my biggest opponent is myself. No one else, but me. I decide where I wanna go in this industry. I decide whether I wanna be at the top of the rankings or at the bottom. I remember my time here so well, my meteoric rise and then my demise, where sloppiness and laziness and sheer inability to even bother played its part. I look back at that with disgust. I;m the guy who could've had it all but settled with nothing. But fortunately for me, Online Championship Wrestling has come back from the grave, like it so often does and it gives me a chance of redemption. A second chance. That's all I've ever wanted and it's like the wrestling God's have looked down at me and said you know what kid, we're gonna give you that second chance. You better take it!
But man, has times changed.
I come back to this promotion straight from a much needed hiatus. And my first opponent coming back, goes by the name of Robbie Rayder and I've got to admit I'm excited for what's in store. I've watched the video clips, I've seen what this guy is about and he's extremely talented, without a doubt; someone who reminds me of myself, with the high levels of intensity, with his aerial ability and striking skills. He's younger than me and hasn't been doing this as long but from what I've seen, he's born to be in the ring.
There's some people who are born to do what we do Rayder, and some people who simply aren't but they try anyway. But those people, they either get catapulted to the top off of image, or the pummel to the ground because they haven't got it. You and I, we're the deciders of our fates because we've both got what it takes, as I said, w were born to do this! And it was only a matter of time before you and I would meet each other in the ring. But whether your time is now.. that's another question. Whether you have what it takes to beat me, at this stage of your career.. you'd have to do the impossible.
I'm at my peak.
This is the best I'll ever be and I acknowledge that, I hope you do too. I've come straight off of this break with enthusiasm and optimism; but more importantly, this sense of hunger. I'm hungry Rayder. I'm hungry for gold. I'm hungry for wins. I'm hungry to hurt. And you're in my way if I'm gonna try climb the rankings to get closer to that gold. You're in my way if I wanna get more wins under my belt.. you're in my way in my desire to hurt people. Because that's what I do! To everyone I know, I hurt them. Whether it'd been physically, emotionally or mentally, I hurt them. I hurt them to the extent that they want nothing to do with me afterwards Rayder. And though this match was made from the heavens of wrestling, after this match - you'll be in awe, sure.. because we would've teared the roof down off this joint. But you'll also be left hoping, that you never step inside the four sided ring with Mark Storm again. He hurt me too much. Hey man, it's what I do.
I'm not a nice person. I've never claimed to be.
What I am, is a fighter.
What I am, is a warrior.
What I am, is your hero!
and mine!
You don't know that yet, but you will after our encounter. Don't expect pretty sequences and cute tricks, and spots to revisit. Expect, a fight, the fight of your life, Rayder. You don't necessarily strike me as intimidating but that doesn't mean I don't rate you, because I do. I rate you enough to do my research. I rate you enough to give you the respect that you've earned due to what you've done in the ring, due to what you display.
But when it's all done, we'll shake hands. But you'll know, that I'm better.
"Loneliness. It's real. I've experienced it first hand. I know it like the back of my hand. And to be honest with you, it's kind of overrated, y'know? I don't know. That might just be me and my weird way of thinking. But I'm okay with loneliness. I'm okay with being alone because half of the time, that's what I am - alone. People talk about needing human connection in order to survive when in my world, in my reality, that's not the case."
"But what about your daughter?"
Is it sickening that he didn't even take her under consideration? That she almost, tracked to the back of his thought process in his whole defense of loneliness. What a weird individual. But it wasn't weird to his shrink Lisa Erickson, who'd endured this argument before but now, this was different. Now, Mark Storm was a father with responsibility beyond his wildest dreams. He had a child, a beautiful daughter that he now had to care for. Could he honestly live without her? Could he put himself through the pain and torment of not seeing her just to prove a point?
"That's different." He snapped back, however after some time to think.
What an idiot, he thought to himself. And he sat there picturing his beautiful girl in front of him, barely a year old but crawling her way towards him, with a massive smile embedded on her face, her cheeks the color of roses. In truth, without her in this world of his, he'd be incomplete. As selfish as he claims he is, everything he does is for her. He's trying to make her upbringing as good as it can be. Better than his anyway.
"You can't, just exile yourself from people. Even when you do, you always come back." And there was a lot of truth in what Lisa was saying. He had exiled himself in the past, leaving almost everyone in the dark and escaping reality, escaping his world of torment to become someone else. Despite it being a backlash in the eyes of his friends, who have now become his former friends, he needed to do it. He needed it, as now he's become stronger than ever.
"You can't run away from your problems."
"But you can try.."
"Even if you do.. you always, come back. It's a cycle. The only way to beat your problems, and your demons.. is if you face them, head on." It's like she forgets he's a schizophrenic. He can fight, and fight, and fight as much as he wants but his demons, they've become apart of him. They are him.
She's been his primary counselor ever since James Peterson assigned him to her. The relationship between Mark Storm and Lisa Erickson, is strictly professional. You know, with the exceptions of frequent phone calls outside office hours, the occasional drinks at the bar and that one, memorable, one night stand they once had. But other than that, it's strictly professional.
"You're getting divorced?" Changing the subject like a pro, his social skills were so poor, are so poor. He could've been a little gentle about it, but he wasn't wrong. He'd noticed the missing ring from her finger from the moment he stepped into her office.
"Really Mark.."
Lisa's husband.. ex husband, didn't know about their affair but in truth, he wasn't the one who filed for it, that was all Lisa.
"How's the wrestling going?"
She could beat him at his own game, changing the subject within a matter of seconds.
"You know, same old - same old, I'm getting back into the shape of things."
He'd fallen back to his old regiment; a schedule of high intensity and a lot of shows, in few days of each other but he loved it. He missed it. He needed it back. He needed Monday Night Massacre back, every damn Monday.
"You get that asshole to move out yet? You guys got a prenup right?"
"Mark, this is totally inappropriate!" Said the shrink who screwed her patient behind her husbands back. But that's doctor to patient confidentiality, right? No one needs to know. Yet. "So who are you facing on Monday night?" Changing the subject again.
"Oh you know. . the same old. A guy who calls himself the Assassin when really he's nothing but a poor man's Bronx Valescence. Sure, he's got title reigns here and there from places that don't really mean anything, and sure, some may even call this guy a veteran with what he's accomplished. But you know, it's no sweat. Now, back to the juicy shit.. about that prenup.."
"God, Mark! Just stay out of it, OK!" She raised her voice, and Storm sunk into a deep silence, silent breathing and intense staring at the professional who was losing her shit sitting right across from him, panting and almost panicking. She managed to regain her composure.
"That was completely unprofessional of me. And I'm sorry - but this session, isn't about me. It's about you. I'm here to help you."
He knew that. But he was fine. And evidently, she wasn't. And he just wanted to help a friend. One of the last remaining. But he also knew that she felt comfort in helping others, it'd make her day feel better so he knew what he needed to do and just talk about himself.
"It is what it is, Lisa. I dunno. Even though I'm back, I feel like people still aren't taking me seriously, y'know? Like I'm just, some sort of joke to them. Like what I did last year, wasn't something spectacular. What I did, was continue to compete at the highest level through a number of promotions for a long period of time. I come back, and I'm back at the bottom but I understand.. but that still doesn't mean people shouldn't show me respect, I earned it. But I guess, I've just got to earn it again. I walk around these halls over in OCW and I just have these eyes fixed on me. It's like a target on my fucking back.. and I hear guys and gals murmur in the shadows.. 'hey, there's that guy from this place, and that place, and so and so.' They think that it's only a matter of time before I wander off to some other place but little do they know, that I have a lot of unfinished business there. I have so much left, to accomplish. They just don't see it, y'know?"
YourHero, And Mine
First things first. I need you to understand, Assassin - that I don't care if you like me or not. I don't care if you think my career has been a shame or if you think that I'm some wrestling whore, or if you call me names like schizo or crazy. I don't care. I don't care because there's other things to care about in this world that we live in.
Our world, it's all about creating beautiful magic, beautiful moments within that four sided ring. The words we say before and after, they're words - promoting the match beforehand and reviewing the match afterwards, what matters is what memory we leave inside that ring.
Do you understand what I mean?
I guess what I'm trying to say is, you can talk all you want but none of it will matter, because at the end of the day; this is a wrestling match. And I know, for a fact that when it comes to the tussle, when it comes to the business of getting the job done, that I am one of the best in the world at what I do.
Step inside the ring with me and you're promised a challenge.
Go ahead, ask any opponent of mine in the past and they'll tell you the same. Ask Robbie Rayder, who I pushed to his limits and he pushed to mine, and though I wasn't victorious in our bout; I earned his respect and he earned mine and now, we're both elevating to new levels. Don't worry Robbie by the way, I'm going to get you back. You're in for a treat when you face me Assassin but I know that I'm in for one too. I've seen what you can do, and I admire it.
I've seen how you move, analysed it and broke it down until I could find the code in order to break you.. and I found that code, I found that weak spot of yours Assassin. You're a big guy, six foot three but two hundred and eighty five pounds. You have power and technical prowess but what you lack severely, is speed.
A big guy like you, running around that ring in full pace.. must take it out of you, huh? Not me. I'm as speedy as they come, and endurance, I'm second to none. You maybe able to match me when it comes to the technical sides of it all, I respect that but when it comes to the speed, the endurance..
I'll outlast you. I'll ware you down until you can't run no more. Until your breathing becomes large exhales of desperation. Of hope. And I'll rip that hope away from, throw it up onto my shoulders before throwing it up into the air.. and as it comes back down to earth, connecting my knee and sabotaging that hope of yours. That hope, of beating me.
You're going to have to do more than just beat me. You're going to have to break me. I'm in the best shape of my life. From promotion to promotion, coast to coast but this place, this is the place where I'm at most. This is the place where the Storm began and it's far from finished, it's just brewing.. brushing the leaves, as the tide beckons and goosebumps climb up your skin. I'm in my element. How about you?
How do you stand right now? Are you confident? Are you afraid?
You should be both. Confident because you are a good wrestler, you are a great fighter. But afraid because you're going up against one of the best in the roster. You're going up against your hero, and mine.
All heroes fall, Assassin. That was proven a fortnight ago when Robbie Rayder was able to defeat me. But heroes, never die. That was proven when I came back from the dead and got that win that I needed last week. I was resurrected. Born, again. Doesn't that scare you? In our age Assassin, people lose and they throw a hissy fit, throwing their toys out of their prams and leaving because their cowards. But not me. I pick my ass back up, dust myself off and I go again.
Resilience.
My resilience is what should scare you the most. You're not going to break me.
Post by Mark Storm on Apr 24, 2017 16:05:58 GMT -6
"You hurt everyone you love!"
"YOU hurt everyone you love."
"You hurt everyone you love."
"You hurt everyone you love."
"You hurt everyone you love."
"You hurt everyone you love."
HURT [ part three ]
solo series.
by mark storm
"You've got to be fucking kiddin' me." He sighed, placing the palm of his hand over his face.
It was just another day.
"Yeah, it's fallen through, definitely a no go with that promotion. Probably worked out for the best though!" Greg said enthusiastically, clasping his hands together as he made himself feel at home in the apartment of Mark Storm, taking a seat on his couch.
A Japanese promotion has recently reached out to Mark about working on a few events, making some showcase appearance and also hosting a seminar at their dojo. But as life does so often, it wasn't mean to be - and Gregory Murphy, the agent of Mark Storm, had just revealed the news to Storm, who wasn't very happy about it. He scoffed and headed towards the kitchen, grabbing two glasses before heading to the sink, pouring water in for himself and presumably Gregory Murphy.
Should he have been as annoyed as he was? Truth is he loved Japan, and reveled in the opportunity of working there whenever he possibly could. The culture, the approach they have to professional wrestling, he was infatuated by it - so much to the extent that he almost adopted their traditions, incorporating their style into his own.
"With the schedule you have, it's probably best that it didn't work out, you know that right?" As much as he didn't want to admit it, he knew that it was probably for the best.
Storm made his way over to the couch and passed a glass over to Greg before joining him, sitting back and attempting to relax himself as he took a sip out of his glass. This was his moment of relaxation, time for himself even though he was in the presence of Gregory Murphy. But he liked that. Greg was someone he didn't mind having around, due to the fact that Greg isn't like everybody else. Sure, he maybe his agent - but he's also someone that understands him, a friend.
"Life's happening fast." Greg said, taking a sip out of his glass.
"Maybe a little too fast." Mark replied, placing his glass on the glass table in front.
He kept himself as busy as possible. So of course everything was moving one hundred miles per hour for him. If he wasn't wrestling in one place, he'd be wrestling in another, or another, and so on and so forth. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He loved the hectic schedule, but he'd be a fool to not acknowledge that it was taking a lot out of him.
You could tell by his posture, he was sore and beaten, fragile yet remained strong in his mind.
"We go again." He declared, sighing.
"Monday Night Massacre, your weekly dose of adrenaline. That's next."
The only promotion that had Storm down on a weekly basis. Maybe it was the love for the promotion that kept him so frequent in appearances. Maybe it was the feeling of in-completion. The one place that Storm really hadn't made his mark in, hadn't solidified his status as one of the greats. He was just one of the 'could of's' people talk about. But that was about to change.
"Damian K." Mark said quietly, almost a whisper.
Mark knew of him but he didn't really know him.
Not the depths of him, not his character. He just knew what he could do in the ring, and that was something he was impressed by. A newcomer within the realm of OCW who was already making a name for himself, already beginning to cause quite a ruckus within the locker rooms. The whole scenario sounded familiar. Mark could almost put himself in the shoes of Damian, a meteoric rise in OCW sparking his career.
"The Godslaying Beast." He chuckled, but he knew that Damian wasn't anything to laugh about.
He was a warrior, a true fighter.
Something that Storm believed had become a rarity in the modern world of professional wrestling. It was all about sports entertainment. All about figures and comical spots, less about the actual craft, what actually mattered. But Damian, he was someone that Storm was in awe of due to his devotion to the craft, his style and the way he presented himself. He wasn't the carbon copy that Storm claimed everyone else to be.
"And the 'Oh Shit' contract holder. A future world champion if you ask me."
"And what about me?" Marked asked out of curiosity, and Greg's face lit up, confused.
"What about you?" Greg subtly chuckled.
There was a moment of silence that ensued, as Storm was in deep thought.
"Do you think I'm.. a future world champion? Do you think I've still got what it takes?"
This was genuine, this was from the heart. Maybe he was doubting himself. OCW was always the once place where Storm hadn't really reached his full potential. And maybe that fact was beginning to weigh on him. Gregory looked at Storm, initially believing it was a rhetorical question but the look in Storm's eyes said otherwise.
"This is the place.. where - you believe.. you haven't, reached.. what you call, your best, right?"
His speech was broken, but he was able to get it out gradually. Storm nodded.
"This is the place where you believe, you have so much to prove.. so much, to give. Right?"
And again, Storm nodded.
"Well the only person, who can truly answer that question, is you - Mark. I've always believed in you. I've always believed that you are the best wrestler in the world. You're the hardest working person I know, hardest working person in the industry. You spread yourself too thin and you don't care about what anybody else says. You just do you and continue to surprise people.. continue to surprise me.
I know you've got what it takes. I think you know too. But first, it's the fight within that counts. That's what's going to determine whether you become a world champion, or not. Get over that doubt, believe in yourself again. Because the moment you start doubting yourself, is the moment everything falls from your grasp."
"Heroes always die.
Heroes always die.
Heroes always die.
Heroes always die."
That's what you said, right?
Heroes, always, die.
And maybe you're right. God, you are right. Because at the end of the day, we all die Damian. Even the Godslaying Beast.
But you've got me all wrong. You think you've figured me out, but you haven't. You see Damian, I didn't give myself this moniker. Believe me, I didn't. I was called a hero throughout 2016, people labeled me a hero due to my devotion to the craft, they thought it was heroic how someone could have such a schedule, and still be performing at the highest level every time he turned up. The fans, my colleagues - they gave me this title, and I'll be honest, I didn't like it.
I'm not your conventional hero, Damian. I'm not perfect. I don't go out my way to help others. I do things for myself, I'm extremely selfish. But the people, they want me as their hero.. and after a while, I just embraced it.
Decided, fuck it, why not? If I'm your hero, then so be it! And people don't like that. They think it's egotistical of me. Cocky, and delusional. But man, I've never been a fan of people, especially those who have negative views about me.
I'm not all there yet, Damian.
I'm still in the process of working things out. But something that's confirmed, is that I'm not like anybody else. You can talk about the heroes you've met, and you've killed. But I'm not them. I'm not like anybody you've ever faced, and you've got to know that. You've got to know that when we step into the ring on Monday night, it's going to be like nothing you've ever experienced before.
I'll admit, you are, undoubtedly, the biggest threat in this promotion. And to think otherwise, you'd be a fool because the stats don't lie. And the stats say, you're one hell of a fighter. Not just a wrestler, but a fighter.
But that's something in your DNA. That's who you are, a Kaiser. A wrestling name that everyone's heard of, everyone's studied. And it must be hard, being from such a well respected family of wrestlers, must be hard to stand out. Must be hard to create your own legacy but you've done that, and you continue to do that. You and I, we're more a like than you know.
That's why I'm looking forward to this. This is an opportunity, to start something beautiful here. This match, it's a contender for match of the year and it hasn't even started yet. Why? Cause this is a match between two fighters who are prepared to leave it all inside that squared circle.
It's crazy.
I'm crazy.
The voices inside my head, they don't think I'm a hero, Damian. They reject that, they always will. My demons, they're the voices inside my head. And hell, just because I'm your hero, and mine - doesn't mean I won't show you a side of me you wouldn't like to see.
I can be heroic.
I can be a hero.
But I can also be the bad guys, if needs be.
I can also be, the destroyer of worlds. It's in my nature. That's what's in my DNA. And you'll found out about that on Monday Night, Damian. I'm coming at you with every last ounce, every last breath, every damn maneuver in my arsenal. This is more than just a match for me. As it's sparks implication. A win over you, it leads to talks about what's next for Mark Storm? Where does he go from here? And with a win, the only way I can go, is up. And I'm looking right up at my man, PerZag.. sitting on his high horse, nonchalant and with no worries. But that's about to change. He's about to have something to worry about.
But enough about PerZag, back to us Damian.
I've made it very clear that this year, it's all about five star matches. It's all about me and my opponents bringing the best out of each other. But you believe you can dismantle me? You think it's going to be easy. It's going to be far from that.
Heroes die. But so do beasts, and in every story - they die first.