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I bury hatchets, but I keep maps to where I put 'em.
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Post by Eden on Aug 10, 2021 1:44:38 GMT -5
MAIN EVENT #08 #1 CONTENDER ASYLUM CHAMPIONSHIP BARBWIRE BAT MATCH CHRIS CHAOS (TC) vs CHUCKY ROSS
PROMO LIMITS:
1 PIECE @2000 OR 2 PIECES @1000(e)
DATE: SEPTEMBER 4, 2021 | DEADLINE: MIDNIGHT EST FRIDAY 9/3
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Worker Bee
16 POSTS & 0 LIKES
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Post by Chucky Ross on Sept 2, 2021 16:37:51 GMT -5
As the scene opens, we see that we are in the medical wing of the Sanatorium. As the camera focuses in, we see that the doctors are trying to look at "The Soulless Jester" Chucky Ross.
"The Soulless Jester" Chucky Ross Get the fuck off me, I am fucking fine!
Doctor Sir, we are trying to make sure that you haven't suffered any lasting damage from that sledgehammer shot.
Chucky continues to try and fight.
"The Soulless Jester" Chucky Ross I said that I am fucking fine. I have taken worse hits but if it will make you feel better than go ahead.
The doctors continue to look over him and do various medical tests. After a bit of time, they finish.
Doctor Strangely, you have no lasting damage but you should try to be a bit more careful in the future. We don't want to have send off your body to wherever your file states that it will be sent too, in case of such event.
"The Soulless Jester" Chucky Ross Thanks Doc. But you are forgetting that I was the Demolition Champion, which is a Hardcore/Deathmatch championship now. Instead of that stupid Cage Match-only stipulation, that was fun while it lasted but got stale rather quickly. I will get a chance for that title again I promise you all that. This goes to you Legion, you officially have a bullseye on your chest. You better pray that you don't lose your "head" when you fight/defend your newly acquired prized. But that's an adventure for another day, I will now go rest in my cell and ponder what will be next for me.
The doctors and some security guards escort him out of the medical wing and to his cell. Then he enters his cell as the door closes and the scene fades to black. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Then we jump ahead a bit of time, as we see "The Soulless Jester" Chucky Ross sitting in his cell when a guard comes to his door.
Guard Ross, it's time to come out for your exercise period.
"The Soulless Jester" Chucky Ross Alright. Give me a moment to get decent.
Then the guard walks in and manacles his ankles and wrists as they escort him to one of the exercise/training areas. Then once they reach to said location, the guard unshackles him and motions for him to head inside. As Chucky does, three guards can be seen walking around the training area.
"The Soulless Jester" Chucky Ross Geez, really hyped on the security have we?
The guard doesn't say anything as Chucky heads off to do some training. As he does, an orderly walks up to him and hands him some bottled water and a towel.
Orderly Oh Mister Ross, I have told to inform you that you will be in a #1 contenders match for the Asylum Championship against one-half of the reigning Tag Team Champions, Chris Chaos in a Barbwire Baseball Bat Match.
Chucky gives the orderly an odd look.
"The Soulless Jester" Chucky Ross Interesting. I guess management actually has faith in someone like me for a change. Unlike the last management we had here. That was a clusterfuck and a boom-pile just wanting to go off.
The orderly just nods and heads off to see if any other inmates or other staff who are training need water or towels.
"The Soulless Jester" Chucky Ross So, it appears that I am now fighting for the #1 contendership to the top title here in the Sanatorium, the Asylum Championship. Which if I recall is presently still held by V unless something happened on that front. I don't really care about politics or anything I just like to break faces and make them scream with The Joke's On You.
He devilishly smiles as he continues punching and kicking one of the training bags.
"The Soulless Jester" Chucky Ross But if you are so inclined, Mister Chris Chaos, let's get froggy. It's a motherfucking Barbwire Baseball Bat Match. Blood will be split on both sides. More so on your end if I have my way with you, sir. But that's for the night of the fight to see how that part plays out. But onto you, Chris Chaos. For a man that has Chaos in his name, you don't seem to like Chaos very much. I live for the CHAOS for the Sanatorium and the overall feel of this place. Some people hear don't but that's their loss and my super fun gain.
He strikes at the training bag a few more times before continuing to speak.
"The Soulless Jester" Chucky Ross Chris, you better bring your a-game to Sanatorium when we fight for the #1 contendership to the Asylum Championship. Cause this is my opportunity to shine and show management that I deserve to hold gold around especially since I was the Demolition Champion before and during our little break from active shows. Even though I didn't defend much, I am still the a better embodiment of CHAOS than you can ever came to be, Christopher. You talk all you want about me being a clown and whatnot. I could give two shits about that. I have been called a clown and a joke for my entire existence here as a living person. You could talk smack about my affiliation with The Order of the Soulless, which is my family by the way, so I would trend that category rather carefully.
Then he does one final hard strike to the training bag and topples it over.
"The Soulless Jester" Chucky Ross Ok, I guess I don't know my own strength at times. But come Sanatorium, that is something you will get to see firsthand. Chris Chaos, come prepared to have your mind, body and soul destroyed by "The Soulless Jester." Cause I definitely plan on putting you through hell that night. The Joke's On You, sir.
Then he smiles devilishly one more time as the scene fades to black.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 3, 2021 21:15:09 GMT -5
I typed in my username and password, opted for how much bitcoin I wanted to pay, and sat back as it loaded. God, the Tor browser was so slow! I cracked open my soda, my hand crinkled the bag of chips as I reached in for another. I was about to witness something horrifying. I was about to PAY to witness something horrifying. qkj4drtgvpm7eecl.onion/– and that was all I had to go on. The website was unimpressive, nothing more than a series of images and logos, with a small link in the center. When I clicked on it, the “Analog Browser” began to download onto her laptop, along with a Word document. I expected it to be secure, but damn was I impatient. At this point, I was hit with a wave of emotion. Like none I had ever felt before. I was washed over with a wave of ice, frozen in my seat. There was a looming terror of what it could mean. I had only heard a couple things about Red Rooms before coming upon this. I was going to be able to decide the fate of these people. I was going to be the one who decided what happened to them. The people that ruined my life, sent me spiraling into a nosedive of depression, booze and prescription medication......the people that made me want to end my life. I got to potentially end theirs.Years and years of therapy......for a "doctor" to tell me all the things that were wrong with me. For a "doctor" to tell me that I needed to be a different person than I was, that what happened to me was my fault. BULLSHIT I slammed my computer desk, yelling at nobody in particular. It was just me in my crappy apartment, lit only by the blue letters on the old microwave. 3:30. I took another swig of my Mountain Dew. It had been weeks since I had cleaned, I just didn't have the heart. I was literally consumed with what happened to me. So much so that I had made a habit of chatting on the dark web, spilling my soul to strangers until I came across one who could "help" me. My face was lit only by the computer screen, as it had been night after night for the past---hell, I couldn't even remember. "It's going to hurt you to watch this, but it will help you. Cleanse you." The person typed to me. Inoculator, he was listed as. So vague, so secretive. He told me he understood my plight--he told me that--and he was the first person in years to tell me--that it wasn't my fault. Ever since that first time I was sent to a room like this, I had been hooked. I was enchanted, I couldn't take my eyes off of it. I was literally, virtually (literally) glued. The page began to load as I remembered the first time. The way the boxcutter shined bright in the fluorescent lighting. The voice of the man in the mask, muffled but still more clear than I ever could have wanted it to be. "These people before you, they are bad people. These people deserve everything they are going to get. They need to be rehabilitated, and you get to decide if they have learned their lesson. How far are you willing to go to teach them?" I thought to myself that this was probably another fake internet video, a deep web art project, design to shock stupid teens stumbling across it at a sleepover. There was no way things like this exist. There were a bunch of anonymous usernames in the bottom corner, chattering excitedly about the sheer horror they were about to witness. Every so often the [ADMIN] would pop in, asking for donations. The bitcoin racked up as these "people" salivated in anticipation.I did not donate, I did not comment. Some of the chatters were getting suspicious of me, asking who I was, what I wanted to see, why I wasn't talking, if I was a fed. A countdown clock came onto the screen as I pondered what to do.
23 minutes. That is all I had. That is as long as I had to wait. My fingers trembled a bit as I typed in a response, the only one I could logically think of.
[User41345]: I am here for the same thing as you.
That seemed to appease them at first, as some of their messages directed away from me and to the horrors they were going to see.
As the clock ticked, and my soda emptied, I decided I had to pee. I better go now, before the "show" begins. I still didn't take it seriously.
More messages my way. WHAT do I wanna see, WHAT brought me here, WHAT is my favorite way to kill an animal......
I relieved myself. I tried not to think about t. I was just going to go with the flow. I giggled as I thought that while peeing.
I finished and zipped up, grabbing another can from the fridge on my way back. SURGE this time, the best soda on the planet.
I sat down in my computer chair, and pulled up a different browser until the timer ran out. Reddit, Tumblr, Creepypasta, all that jazz. When the buzzer went off, I went back to Tor.
The man with the boxcutter came onto the screen again. He was only a silhouette. Black, darkness, evil against a red background.
He was dragging a chain behind him, which was attached to a person. But this person, they weren't a silhouette. They were as clear as a summers day.
A man, or so it seemed. He had what looked to be a pig mask over his face. He was crawling on his hands and knees. Underneath the chilling background music there appeared to be the sound of sobbing. Was this man crying?
Did he KNOW what was about to happen?
Fuck IMAX, I thought to myself. This was good quality shit.
"This man......despite his pitiful pleas, is a terrible man. He is the head of a sex trafficking ring, has numerous rape and abuse charges against young children, and just last month forced himself on his niece. Rehab doesn't work....perhaps we can rehab him ourselves? Perhaps we can hurt him to help him."
That was the first time I ever heard that phrase.
The commenters were suggesting terrible ways to "help" this poor bastard, and he cried out in anguish each time a suggestion was read aloud.
Eventually, they settled on castration. Then argued about what would be used. It was all so fascinating. They decided on rusty fishing line and a surgical scalpel.
I'll never forget the screams.
But this man would have no more libido. No more drive. He would not hurt anyone anymore.
Person after person, suggestion after suggestion, terrible person after terrible person. All helped, but never killed. All different, but never ended. All changed and never the same. Blood, guts and severed genitalia stained the floor. Some users commented on how they had thrown up. Others called them a pussy.
But each person that was dragged in front of the screen, it was the same M.O.
HURT THEM TO HELP THEM.
The screams deafened me through my headphones but I could not take them off. Bile rose in my throat, I could not believe what I was seeing was possible, or that it could ever work!
Humans Are The Real Monsters.
The buzzer jolted me back to reality. The timer had run down. The screen crackled a bit, and it looked as thought it needed to load one more time.
Then, the most joyous site of all came across my screen.
I instantly felt sick, but also felt more pleasure than I had felt in some time. I was going to be the one who chose what happened in the next hour. I paid. I chose. I....helped.
The gag in her mouth stifled her cries. They were probably lies anyway. Everything she said was a lie.
WHORE!
BITCH! CUNT!
I calmed myself........deep breathes.
[ADMIN]: The floor is yours. How do you want to help her?
She was going to get what she needed to truly be helped. I was going to hurt her to help her.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard again as sweat dripped down my brow like the condensation on my soda can.
I brought my finger down with insurmountable certainty.
[USER1]:
My fingers shook as I brought them down on the plastic keyboard letters.
[USER1]:........First....have...have her look up at the screen. Have her look at me.
[ADMIN]: As you request.
TO BE CONTINUED IN ASYLUM CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH RP:
"People look at me like the bad guy. You know, I am really not that bad of a dude. In fact, I think I am a pretty damn good dude. You see, I have a method for helping that many people turn their nose at, but it works. I have helped many people through my four plus year career here, and many people benefitted from it. I made careers that needed to be made, and I ended ones that needed to be ended. I was the judge, the jury and the executioner.
I took justice into my own hands. You see......I hurt people. But I don't do it to be a dick, or for any sort of sick pleasure or fetish. No, I genuinely enjoy helping people. But more often than not, I have to hurt them to help them. Look at the most recent cases. Everyone I have stepped in the ring with I have helped in one way or another. I either helped them get better by going against the best in the world to do this, or I helpe them realize that maybe this profession just isn't their cup-o-joe. You see, when Gabe brought me here, I was hesitant. I didn't want to step into the ring and embarrass anyone, I wanted to earn my stripes here and work my way up. I wanted to be the hardest worker on this roster and etch out a place in WWH lore. ..........then I got here. I have been spoiled, clearly. As much shit as I talk about the XWF and as toxic as a culture as they are, they harbor some of the best talent in the world. This place needed a savior, and Gabe told me I would rise to the top quickly. Looking around.....it isn't going to be that fucking hard. I am the best in the world who never got a break. Forget trying to earn a spot, I'll be dubfounded if I don't go undefeated here. I am already the solo holder of the Tag Team Titles while Gabe is on his soul-searching sabbatical, and now I am going to kick down the door to asylum and take that title too.
Lindy tried to warn ya'll. Maybe you all should have listened.Chucky Ross, the "Soulless Jester" is going to live up to his name. Jester. Clown. Peasant. You see, he comes into this match all confident, with his head sitting on cloud nine, because he has a chance to taste greatness. He has a chance to be the David when Goliath comes rumbling through. Newsflash, this isn't the storybooks. David doesn't beat Goliath, he gets crushed beneath his boot. Management has faith in you? Much to the contrary. Management needs someone to feed to this hungry shark before he turns and bites them. You're the experimental rat. How badly can I hurt you on national television before the lawsuits end up on Eden's desk? You didn't even know who the champion was, you were just so excited not to be the last one picked in dodgeball. "I think the champ is still V". Maybe you should "think" that the entire Soulless organization is nothing but a punchline..... Jokes on you. Do I wanna get froggy? You're damn right I do. It's a barbwire bat match, and you're softer than babyshit. I don't like Chaos? Well clearly you haven't been paying attention to more than just who the champion is on your own show.......Bad move. Bring my A game? Little man, my C- game is still an entire two grades above yours. I don't even have to try.....but I am gonna. I am going to put your head on a stake and use you as an example as to what happens when you sleep on the best in the business. You were the Demolition Champion before, whoopty, and you seem to think that is your get-out-of-jail-free card and your fast pass to hold the top gold here? You're just as delusional as those sisters you roll with. You have proven without a shadow of a doubt that you are nothing but a joke. Stereotypes exit for a reason, and the idea that you're a complete and utter fraud of a human being has been on display since the moment you stepped through these doors. Facts over feelings, broski.You're gonna put me through hell? I welcome the invitation, I'll bring the appetizers if you provide the refreshments. Believe me or not, I am here to help you. I have to hurt you to truly help you. And hurt you I will.Oh yes, there will be blood."
So I think I got him under control, for now. Today I was in the store, mask on, shopping. I felt good. I felt calm. I felt people looking at me though, and all I could see was their eyeballs.....making the stares more piercing.
It felt like they were staring through me. It felt like they could see him. It made me feel like he was there, always with me, always looming over my shoulder like impending doom. I won't lie, there are always those thoughts....and I know they are him. What if I ripped my mask off and coughed on the food. Intentionally. What if I knocked something over and left it there. What if I punched the cashier?
I walked down my isle, slowly, looking at all the different items. None of it I really needed but it was nice to get out of the house. As I was checking out, I began to get tingly. I thanked the cashier and I walked out, pushing my cart towards the car.
I unloaded my groceries and began to head home. DO IT, DRIVE INTO THE OTHER LANE. No.
COME ON. ESTABLISH A LITTLE ANARCHY. THROW A WRENCH IN THE SYSTEM. Go away.
I beat it down, I swallowed hard. There were children out and about riding bikes.
HIT THEM
No! Stop it! KILL THEM! Go away! Get out of my head!
I shook my head hard, arguing with the imaginary voices that weren't so imaginary to me.
I had to stop at tractor supply, pick up a few things for around the house. As I walked through the isles he yelled inside my head about all the things that I could use as weapons if I wanted to. Gruesome things I would never think of using.
Then, I saw a bunch of kids and their parents huddled around what looked like big steel bowls. They had orange heat lights on. Chicks.
They were selling chicks. Small little yellow angels. Innocent. Just starting their life. They didn't know right from wrong. Shit, neither did I anymore.
I looked down at them at they brought a natural smile to my face. I asked if I could touch one. It brought me instant joy. A smile creped across my face but by the looks of the children nearby, it just have been more of a smirk.
A sick, psychotic smirk. Is there such a thing as an emotional support chicken? Pet it. I wanted to pet it. KILL IT
RIP ITS HEAD OFF
Pet RIP
Pet
RIP
Pet
RIP
AHHHHHHHHHHHH!
ALL OF THEM, KILL ALL OF THEM!!!!!!!!!!
I bought 5. I figured they would be a healthy addition and would give me something to get my mind off my own self hatred.
I drove home and swerved almost off the road several times.
It was him.
I slept well that night. I felt at ease, weirdly.
I woke up covered in feathers and blood.
He's here.
I'm sorry everyone. Sorry for everything I thought I was. Sorry I wasn't stronger. Sorry I couldn't keep him locked away.
I am sorry I was weak.
He is here. He is here and he isn't going anywhere.
I sit here on my rug, blotting up the blood with tears in my eyes. This isn't me.......this never was me.
But I can't control him.
JUDAS! I yelled. JUDAS! YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A JUDAS! YOU BETRAYED ME!
I heard laughing. I Punched myself hard in the head. The face. I drew blood.
JUDAS! I said again as my hand sweeped over a small bone.
Poor thing. At least it was quick.........I think.
I got up with a groan and walked over to the mirror. I hadn't shaved in weeks. But what stared back at me wasn't me.........it was him.
JUDAS
And he had a fire in his eyes.........evil to the core.
He's here.
What have I become, now that I've betrayed Everyone I've ever loved, I pushed them all away And I have been a slave to the Judas in my mind Is there something left of me to save In the wreckage of my life, my life
I'm becom-, I'm becom-, I'm becoming I'm becom-, I'm becom-, I'm becoming Judas in, Judas in my mind I'm becom-, I'm becom-, I'm becoming I'm becom-, I'm becom-, I'm becoming Judas in, Judas in my mind
He's here
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