Post by Zane on Mar 8, 2012 8:36:18 GMT -5
Alleys. They are often dark. They tend to stink like the trash that is piled up in them and are usually wet, or at least damp, even when it’s not raining or even damp outside. They tend to house animals such as rats that most people find to be repulsive and dirty. They tend to house people in them that most people find to be smelly and disgusting. They’re like Lepers…minus the whole thing about limbs rotting off. Of course, teeth do that to…so there’s not really that much difference. The point is, is that most people hate alleyways and avoid them all at cost. Zane Scott is not such a man. He is quite used to them in fact, although he too at this point in his life finds them to be a somewhat displeasing place to hold a meeting.
Yet that is exactly where he found himself, standing across from two younger men who are wearing suits that are equally as expensive as his is. Zane knows them both. Zane also detests the both of them and would very much like to put them out of his misery. They’d be another broken link in the chain and the weaker that the chain got, the closer to his freedom he would be. Unfortunately for him that was far easier said than done and it’s why he finds himself standing toe to toe in a Las Vegas alleyway from two men who he detests.
Both men are aware of his feelings and have matching smirks on their faces because of this. This of course just serves to make Zane, who is not naturally of the most kindly of dispositions, a bit testier right off.
“What do you want ? Isn’t it bad enough that I have to hear that asshole on the phone, but they add to my annoyance by sending you and your life partner to talk to me ? Get to the fucking point and get out of my face. I have someone to cripple and I’d like to spend my time thinking about how I’m going to go about doing that”.
The younger man in the expensive suit didn’t react to the intended insult and his face was hard to read due to the sunglasses that blocked his eyes. Zane paced back and forth but his eyes never left the person who stood in front of him. It appeared to please the other person who was with the young blond as he let out a short laugh at Zane’s growing anger. The blonde watched Zane pace, looking as if he was intentionally making him wait.
Zane finally had enough and walked up to him, looking him square in the eyes.
“I’m waiting kid. Don’t think that I won’t cripple you because you’re the newest “flavor of the month” errand boy for our boss.”
The blonde looked over his shoulder at the dark haired man behind him and smiled before looking back at Zane. The other man straightened the cuffs at the end of his equally expensive suit but didn’t say anything; he just continued to smirk. The young man looked back into Zane’s face and finally responded, holding a hand up and pushing Zane back a step…after which he used the hand to wave at the air in front of his face.
“First of all Zane, take a breath mint. Your breath reeks. Secondly, if you’re feeling that mean, go kick a homeless person, throw a trashcan…hell, punch the brick wall for all I care. Don’t waste my time with empty threats. We both know that even you aren’t enough of a mental defective to take a swing at, let alone injure me. There would be consequences for that beyond Sean and I beating the daylights out of you. Not only would we leave you in a broken heap in one of these trash piles that you would feel so at home in, but after you heal, we both know that the consequences from those above us in the chain of command would be severe enough for even an empty headed adolescent child like you to take a healthy pause at the thought of.”
The blonde man paused as the dark haired man behind him laughed in amusement. Zane paused just long enough to lash out, whip a trashcan off of the ground, spin and throw it into a nearby all. The can smacked into it with a loud, metallic clang and fell to the ground and came to rest in a pile of trash. The young man raised an eyebrow and laughed to himself before looking at Zane again as the sun glinted off of his expensive glasses. Zane continued to pace back and forth, his face locked into an evil looking snarl of pure hate.
“That’s a good boy. Now, you’ve done as you were told and signed a contract with the Unified Global Wrestling Corporation. Somehow you’ve been granted a Championship Match already. Your instructions for this match are simple…”
Zane stopped pacing and fixed his furious glare on the man who stood in front of him, holding the key to the door of his immediate future. The two men stood staring at each other in momentary silence, silence that was broken by a seagull screeching in the distance. Zane stepped forward and glared into the younger man’s eyes, his breath reflecting on the lenses of his glasses. The younger man took a step back and held a tin up to Zane.
“Take a mint Zane. Or don’t. With that breath you could exhale on the other three people in the match and knock them out.”
Zane responded to the remark by slamming his left fist into his right palm with the impact producing a loud “crack”. Neither of the other two men flinched at the gesture. Down at the other end of the alley a bus zoomed by, producing a breeze that blew some papers and an empty glass bottle across the ground. Somewhere off in the distance another bird screeched. Life in the big city proceeded as it always did and no one seemed to notice the three men in the alley.
“Zane your orders are simple…go forth and destroy. We don’t care if you win the belt or not, although that would be a nice perk. Just go out there and be yourself. Be insanely and uncontrollably violent. Be hateful and malicious. Hell, cripple one of them for all we care. Have fun.”
Zane recoiled from the orders like he’d been slapped squarely in the mouth. Both men grinned at his obvious confusion. The dark haired one even laughed a bit. The laugh was deep and heavily mocking. Zane wasn’t laughing. He turned to the younger one and angrily thrust a finger in his face.
“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you ? You’re enjoying this. There’s no way it’s that simple.”
The young man grinned an amused grin and was quickly followed it with a very snide chuckle. He reached out and placed a hand on Zane’s shoulder, causing Zane to reflectively clench his fists. Had almost anyone else done it, instant violence would have been the result. Zane restrained himself, although it was clearly very hard for him to do. This seemed to amuse the two other men even more and the one with the hand on his shoulder even lowered his sunglasses. His eyes had a vicious sparkle in them.
“Remember what you were told Zane. Think about that and this makes perfect sense.”
The dark haired one let out a grunt behind them both as if he was holding another laugh in. Zane looked past the man in front of him and lifted his arm, giving the second one the finger. The gesture just caused the man to actually laugh at him this time. Zane responded to the laugh with an angry growl, but didn’t take his eyes off of the man in front of him.
“So that’s it ? That’s all that’s wanted to tell me ? You couldn’t have told me this over the phone ? You had to waste my time and force me to tolerate having you near me ?”
The younger man nodded his head.
“Yes Zane, that’s it. Now…we’re going to leave and you’re going to stay here until we’re out of sight. We wouldn’t want you getting the wrong idea once our backs are turned.”
He lowered his hand and took a couple of steps back. The dark haired man didn’t move, and neither did Zane’s outstretched arm and extended finger. The younger man took another step back, turned on his heel and lifted his left hand, spinning his pointer finger in a circle and without a word both men walked out of the alley. Zane stood and watched them go, shaking with barely suppressed rage. After a few moments they disappeared and he noted their departure with a thunderous yell of pure fury.
“WHOZAT ? WHO’S IN MAH ALLEH ? EXPLAIN YOSELF TO JOSEPHUS !!!”
The question was preceded by a loud snort and a very wet sounding belch as a shaggy looking older man with a filthy, brown beard stumbled drunkenly to his feet from behind the pile of trash and dumpster that had been his home. Zane responded to the yelling by turning on the old man like a bull that had just been shown a red blanket and stabbed with a spear. With speed that seemed impossible for a man his size, Zane leaped forward and grabbed the old man by the front of his mangy overcoat, pulling him forward and driving a hammer fist into his face. The old man’s nose shattered with a loud crack and a spray of blood. Zane responded to the blood by smiling insanely, spinning the old man around so that he was holding him by the back of his head and drawing his arm back, leaving the old man staring at the dumpster that had just been his protection from the weather.
“You picked a bad time to wake up from your drunken nap you old prick.”
BANG !!
His face impacted off of the dumpster loudly, leaving a bloody smear in its wake. Zane pulled him back and looked at his work, smiling viciously before turning and driving the man’s face into the dumpster again with another loud bang. The old man went stiff on the impact and then limp as he was pulled back. Zane looked at his face again and then down at his blood smeared hand.
BANG !!
Another shot off of the dumpster left the man shaking like a fish out of water.
BANG !!
This time the old man went limp and just sat on the end of Zane’s hand twitching violently. Zane watched this with obvious glee before spinning on his heel and driving the man’s face into the dumpster again…again…again. After the third consecutive impact the man was completely limp and Zane’s hand was covered in his blood as Zane stood and panted like a wild animal with his chest heaving up and down and his eyes glowing with an insane zeal. Zane finally discarded of the body by casually flicking his wrist out and tossing the broken body into a nearby wall, where it landed with a dull thud and a dark, steaming pool began to spread out around it.
MUCH LATER
“Chance”; the person who controls my life would say, “Is the excuse of the weak to justify their inactivity and dismiss their myriad of failures”.
Zane growls out the statement with a crooked grin on his face, punctuating it with a long drink from his beer, which is honestly almost gone, and not the first of the alcoholic victims that have been taken that day. He sits in an expensive looking armchair and has a black bag on the floor next to it. The room, like the chair, looks very comfortable and very expensive as it has wall-to-wall hardwood floors that are covered by the occasional but expertly placed Oriental rug, ornate looking artwork on the walls, dark oak bookshelves, a corner to corner leather sectional and long curtains over the windows. It is clearly a living room as the back wall of the room is taken up by an enormous television and entertainment center. It is a room that Zane Scott looks very out of place in. This dichotomy is made even more glaring when he drops another empty beer bottle into the small pile of them that sit on the floor next to him.
“As Alex said, it was not chance that brought he and I together in that holding cell. That was something that had to happen. It may have looked like a brutish display of random violence to all of you, but what it really was, was two men who enjoy violence giving a clinic on it. Did I have to get involved in his problem with those slack jawed, chorizo spitting, greasy looking, drug pushing foreigners ?”
Another beer is opened.
“Fuck no I didn’t.”
He smiles and stands up from the recliner. In spite of the rather high amount of alcohol that he’s drunk he is steady on his feet and his speech is even and clear. He walks across the room to the window and pushes the curtain open to reveal the outside world of Tokyo, Japan. The brightness of the city is almost amazing considering what time of night it is.
“I did it because after a few seconds of enjoying his ability to destroy people with his fists, it looked like a lot of fun to join in…and I hate missing a good ass kicking when I can be the one kicking the ass. I had to decide on “La Cucaracha” and “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad” when I cheese-greatered that piece of shit across the cage bars. “La Cucaracha” just seemed more fitting at the time. I know that he’ll never hear the song the same way again.”
He takes another gulp from his beer and sets it down on the window ledge and places his hands against the window glass. His expression is one of evil glee.
Alex…as you said…great things are coming for the two of us. The havoc and destruction that we can wreak is something that makes me almost drunk with joy. I have no intention of working against you at “Rising Sun”.
His eyes stay focused out of the window, taking Tokyo in as it sits below him.
“Abigail. I don’t know you. I’ve never met you and know nothing about you. Normally when I see a woman across from me she is a conquest for me no matter what that situation is. This situation isn’t normal. You’re allied with Stein and for that you are not my target. I won’t attack you unless you attack me, at which point I’ll beat you into the ground. I don’t see any reason that it should happen though. We have the same relative goals.
He pulls up the beer and takes a drink before setting it back down and raising his eyes. The look in them is terrifying, focused and absolutely evil. It’s the look of a serial killer. They’re eyes without a bottom to them, like looking into the abyss, dark and empty.
“Enigma.”
He smiled. It’s the kind of look that one would normally ascribe to a wolf on the prowl, stalking after a target that doesn’t know that its been singled out as dinner yet.
“You’re a dead man walking. It’s that simple. You’re the kind of guy whom I was paid really good money to beat the living shit out of because he crossed the wrong people. The thing is, I don’t even know you and I’d beat the shit out of you just for the joy that I’d get out of putting you in traction. You’re no better to those clowns in the holding cell to me. In fact you’re less than them to me because you think that there’s something great about you when there isn’t.”
“Don’t try the “deluded crazy person” shit with me. I know how an actual psychotic acts like. Talking in the second person doesn’t make you sound crazy, it makes you sound like a jack-off. This isn’t High School. No one buys your bullshit kid. Let me make this so clear that both sides of your supposed split personality will get this…”Jimmy”. “
His smile widened, showing more teeth.
“I don’t want Abby’s Championship and if I do use it, it’s only for long enough for me to turn it side ways and stuff it edge first down your throat with my boot. Think of it like a really hard, really strong set of braces. You’re a child in a man’s sport and I’m going to beat you like the unwanted wimp in the back of the class who pisses himself on a daily basis. I used to kick that kid down the steps for fun when I was in school.”
He turns from the window as a knock happens on the door, making his smile change from predatory evil to someone who’s expecting some kind of gift. He walks over to the door and opens it to reveal a beautiful Japanese woman in her early twenties standing on the other side. He steps to the side to let her in and as he does so the view focuses more closely on him.
“You’re that kid Jimmy.”
He turns and looks at the woman, how has taken off her goat to reveal that she’s covered by a very small and very tight dress that has very well places gaps in the fabric. He licks his lips and his eyes widen in anticipation.
“Now get the fuck out of here. I have a pre- show workout scheduled.”
He ends the promo by unceremoniously slamming the door closed, at which point the screen just blacks out.
Yet that is exactly where he found himself, standing across from two younger men who are wearing suits that are equally as expensive as his is. Zane knows them both. Zane also detests the both of them and would very much like to put them out of his misery. They’d be another broken link in the chain and the weaker that the chain got, the closer to his freedom he would be. Unfortunately for him that was far easier said than done and it’s why he finds himself standing toe to toe in a Las Vegas alleyway from two men who he detests.
Both men are aware of his feelings and have matching smirks on their faces because of this. This of course just serves to make Zane, who is not naturally of the most kindly of dispositions, a bit testier right off.
“What do you want ? Isn’t it bad enough that I have to hear that asshole on the phone, but they add to my annoyance by sending you and your life partner to talk to me ? Get to the fucking point and get out of my face. I have someone to cripple and I’d like to spend my time thinking about how I’m going to go about doing that”.
The younger man in the expensive suit didn’t react to the intended insult and his face was hard to read due to the sunglasses that blocked his eyes. Zane paced back and forth but his eyes never left the person who stood in front of him. It appeared to please the other person who was with the young blond as he let out a short laugh at Zane’s growing anger. The blonde watched Zane pace, looking as if he was intentionally making him wait.
Zane finally had enough and walked up to him, looking him square in the eyes.
“I’m waiting kid. Don’t think that I won’t cripple you because you’re the newest “flavor of the month” errand boy for our boss.”
The blonde looked over his shoulder at the dark haired man behind him and smiled before looking back at Zane. The other man straightened the cuffs at the end of his equally expensive suit but didn’t say anything; he just continued to smirk. The young man looked back into Zane’s face and finally responded, holding a hand up and pushing Zane back a step…after which he used the hand to wave at the air in front of his face.
“First of all Zane, take a breath mint. Your breath reeks. Secondly, if you’re feeling that mean, go kick a homeless person, throw a trashcan…hell, punch the brick wall for all I care. Don’t waste my time with empty threats. We both know that even you aren’t enough of a mental defective to take a swing at, let alone injure me. There would be consequences for that beyond Sean and I beating the daylights out of you. Not only would we leave you in a broken heap in one of these trash piles that you would feel so at home in, but after you heal, we both know that the consequences from those above us in the chain of command would be severe enough for even an empty headed adolescent child like you to take a healthy pause at the thought of.”
The blonde man paused as the dark haired man behind him laughed in amusement. Zane paused just long enough to lash out, whip a trashcan off of the ground, spin and throw it into a nearby all. The can smacked into it with a loud, metallic clang and fell to the ground and came to rest in a pile of trash. The young man raised an eyebrow and laughed to himself before looking at Zane again as the sun glinted off of his expensive glasses. Zane continued to pace back and forth, his face locked into an evil looking snarl of pure hate.
“That’s a good boy. Now, you’ve done as you were told and signed a contract with the Unified Global Wrestling Corporation. Somehow you’ve been granted a Championship Match already. Your instructions for this match are simple…”
Zane stopped pacing and fixed his furious glare on the man who stood in front of him, holding the key to the door of his immediate future. The two men stood staring at each other in momentary silence, silence that was broken by a seagull screeching in the distance. Zane stepped forward and glared into the younger man’s eyes, his breath reflecting on the lenses of his glasses. The younger man took a step back and held a tin up to Zane.
“Take a mint Zane. Or don’t. With that breath you could exhale on the other three people in the match and knock them out.”
Zane responded to the remark by slamming his left fist into his right palm with the impact producing a loud “crack”. Neither of the other two men flinched at the gesture. Down at the other end of the alley a bus zoomed by, producing a breeze that blew some papers and an empty glass bottle across the ground. Somewhere off in the distance another bird screeched. Life in the big city proceeded as it always did and no one seemed to notice the three men in the alley.
“Zane your orders are simple…go forth and destroy. We don’t care if you win the belt or not, although that would be a nice perk. Just go out there and be yourself. Be insanely and uncontrollably violent. Be hateful and malicious. Hell, cripple one of them for all we care. Have fun.”
Zane recoiled from the orders like he’d been slapped squarely in the mouth. Both men grinned at his obvious confusion. The dark haired one even laughed a bit. The laugh was deep and heavily mocking. Zane wasn’t laughing. He turned to the younger one and angrily thrust a finger in his face.
“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you ? You’re enjoying this. There’s no way it’s that simple.”
The young man grinned an amused grin and was quickly followed it with a very snide chuckle. He reached out and placed a hand on Zane’s shoulder, causing Zane to reflectively clench his fists. Had almost anyone else done it, instant violence would have been the result. Zane restrained himself, although it was clearly very hard for him to do. This seemed to amuse the two other men even more and the one with the hand on his shoulder even lowered his sunglasses. His eyes had a vicious sparkle in them.
“Remember what you were told Zane. Think about that and this makes perfect sense.”
The dark haired one let out a grunt behind them both as if he was holding another laugh in. Zane looked past the man in front of him and lifted his arm, giving the second one the finger. The gesture just caused the man to actually laugh at him this time. Zane responded to the laugh with an angry growl, but didn’t take his eyes off of the man in front of him.
“So that’s it ? That’s all that’s wanted to tell me ? You couldn’t have told me this over the phone ? You had to waste my time and force me to tolerate having you near me ?”
The younger man nodded his head.
“Yes Zane, that’s it. Now…we’re going to leave and you’re going to stay here until we’re out of sight. We wouldn’t want you getting the wrong idea once our backs are turned.”
He lowered his hand and took a couple of steps back. The dark haired man didn’t move, and neither did Zane’s outstretched arm and extended finger. The younger man took another step back, turned on his heel and lifted his left hand, spinning his pointer finger in a circle and without a word both men walked out of the alley. Zane stood and watched them go, shaking with barely suppressed rage. After a few moments they disappeared and he noted their departure with a thunderous yell of pure fury.
“WHOZAT ? WHO’S IN MAH ALLEH ? EXPLAIN YOSELF TO JOSEPHUS !!!”
The question was preceded by a loud snort and a very wet sounding belch as a shaggy looking older man with a filthy, brown beard stumbled drunkenly to his feet from behind the pile of trash and dumpster that had been his home. Zane responded to the yelling by turning on the old man like a bull that had just been shown a red blanket and stabbed with a spear. With speed that seemed impossible for a man his size, Zane leaped forward and grabbed the old man by the front of his mangy overcoat, pulling him forward and driving a hammer fist into his face. The old man’s nose shattered with a loud crack and a spray of blood. Zane responded to the blood by smiling insanely, spinning the old man around so that he was holding him by the back of his head and drawing his arm back, leaving the old man staring at the dumpster that had just been his protection from the weather.
“You picked a bad time to wake up from your drunken nap you old prick.”
BANG !!
His face impacted off of the dumpster loudly, leaving a bloody smear in its wake. Zane pulled him back and looked at his work, smiling viciously before turning and driving the man’s face into the dumpster again with another loud bang. The old man went stiff on the impact and then limp as he was pulled back. Zane looked at his face again and then down at his blood smeared hand.
BANG !!
Another shot off of the dumpster left the man shaking like a fish out of water.
BANG !!
This time the old man went limp and just sat on the end of Zane’s hand twitching violently. Zane watched this with obvious glee before spinning on his heel and driving the man’s face into the dumpster again…again…again. After the third consecutive impact the man was completely limp and Zane’s hand was covered in his blood as Zane stood and panted like a wild animal with his chest heaving up and down and his eyes glowing with an insane zeal. Zane finally discarded of the body by casually flicking his wrist out and tossing the broken body into a nearby wall, where it landed with a dull thud and a dark, steaming pool began to spread out around it.
MUCH LATER
“Chance”; the person who controls my life would say, “Is the excuse of the weak to justify their inactivity and dismiss their myriad of failures”.
Zane growls out the statement with a crooked grin on his face, punctuating it with a long drink from his beer, which is honestly almost gone, and not the first of the alcoholic victims that have been taken that day. He sits in an expensive looking armchair and has a black bag on the floor next to it. The room, like the chair, looks very comfortable and very expensive as it has wall-to-wall hardwood floors that are covered by the occasional but expertly placed Oriental rug, ornate looking artwork on the walls, dark oak bookshelves, a corner to corner leather sectional and long curtains over the windows. It is clearly a living room as the back wall of the room is taken up by an enormous television and entertainment center. It is a room that Zane Scott looks very out of place in. This dichotomy is made even more glaring when he drops another empty beer bottle into the small pile of them that sit on the floor next to him.
“As Alex said, it was not chance that brought he and I together in that holding cell. That was something that had to happen. It may have looked like a brutish display of random violence to all of you, but what it really was, was two men who enjoy violence giving a clinic on it. Did I have to get involved in his problem with those slack jawed, chorizo spitting, greasy looking, drug pushing foreigners ?”
Another beer is opened.
“Fuck no I didn’t.”
He smiles and stands up from the recliner. In spite of the rather high amount of alcohol that he’s drunk he is steady on his feet and his speech is even and clear. He walks across the room to the window and pushes the curtain open to reveal the outside world of Tokyo, Japan. The brightness of the city is almost amazing considering what time of night it is.
“I did it because after a few seconds of enjoying his ability to destroy people with his fists, it looked like a lot of fun to join in…and I hate missing a good ass kicking when I can be the one kicking the ass. I had to decide on “La Cucaracha” and “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad” when I cheese-greatered that piece of shit across the cage bars. “La Cucaracha” just seemed more fitting at the time. I know that he’ll never hear the song the same way again.”
He takes another gulp from his beer and sets it down on the window ledge and places his hands against the window glass. His expression is one of evil glee.
Alex…as you said…great things are coming for the two of us. The havoc and destruction that we can wreak is something that makes me almost drunk with joy. I have no intention of working against you at “Rising Sun”.
His eyes stay focused out of the window, taking Tokyo in as it sits below him.
“Abigail. I don’t know you. I’ve never met you and know nothing about you. Normally when I see a woman across from me she is a conquest for me no matter what that situation is. This situation isn’t normal. You’re allied with Stein and for that you are not my target. I won’t attack you unless you attack me, at which point I’ll beat you into the ground. I don’t see any reason that it should happen though. We have the same relative goals.
He pulls up the beer and takes a drink before setting it back down and raising his eyes. The look in them is terrifying, focused and absolutely evil. It’s the look of a serial killer. They’re eyes without a bottom to them, like looking into the abyss, dark and empty.
“Enigma.”
He smiled. It’s the kind of look that one would normally ascribe to a wolf on the prowl, stalking after a target that doesn’t know that its been singled out as dinner yet.
“You’re a dead man walking. It’s that simple. You’re the kind of guy whom I was paid really good money to beat the living shit out of because he crossed the wrong people. The thing is, I don’t even know you and I’d beat the shit out of you just for the joy that I’d get out of putting you in traction. You’re no better to those clowns in the holding cell to me. In fact you’re less than them to me because you think that there’s something great about you when there isn’t.”
“Don’t try the “deluded crazy person” shit with me. I know how an actual psychotic acts like. Talking in the second person doesn’t make you sound crazy, it makes you sound like a jack-off. This isn’t High School. No one buys your bullshit kid. Let me make this so clear that both sides of your supposed split personality will get this…”Jimmy”. “
His smile widened, showing more teeth.
“I don’t want Abby’s Championship and if I do use it, it’s only for long enough for me to turn it side ways and stuff it edge first down your throat with my boot. Think of it like a really hard, really strong set of braces. You’re a child in a man’s sport and I’m going to beat you like the unwanted wimp in the back of the class who pisses himself on a daily basis. I used to kick that kid down the steps for fun when I was in school.”
He turns from the window as a knock happens on the door, making his smile change from predatory evil to someone who’s expecting some kind of gift. He walks over to the door and opens it to reveal a beautiful Japanese woman in her early twenties standing on the other side. He steps to the side to let her in and as he does so the view focuses more closely on him.
“You’re that kid Jimmy.”
He turns and looks at the woman, how has taken off her goat to reveal that she’s covered by a very small and very tight dress that has very well places gaps in the fabric. He licks his lips and his eyes widen in anticipation.
“Now get the fuck out of here. I have a pre- show workout scheduled.”
He ends the promo by unceremoniously slamming the door closed, at which point the screen just blacks out.