Sins of the Past..Sins of the Future

The days were growing closer to Chapter 23. It wouldn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out that with outside forces being involved in the way that they have, the European Champion had been dealing with some outside forces that led to a very negative point of view. He knew what he was, and he knew what he had done. The wounded lion couldn’t get rest, especially with an antagonistic little cub referring to him as something of a bully. Guilty by association, one would assume. The situation between Kimberly Chase and Cynthia Rose was really what this match was about, not the Champion involved. His first match with the title in tow, and he was facing someone he had zero understanding with.

The simple life wasn’t so simple anymore.

Cynthia Rose wasn’t meant to be a challenge on paper. Young, inexperienced in the ring, naive in life, too nice for her own good. Damn that sounded familiar. She carried this belief that smack talking the Champion was going to be good for her career. People have come before her and done the same thing, oftentimes with terrible results. Something felt off with her comments recently in regards to his ‘bullying’ tactics.

What a bully! He stood there while she interrupted his Championship celebration.

What a bully! He said that he would have lunch with her and Percy.

What a bully! He didn’t even want to be in the ring while she and Kimberly had their ‘war of words’.

Damn that shit looked scripted.

A pair of shoes caused this match to happen. He knew it, unfortunately he was the only one who understood the underlying tone of what he meant when he said that. The ‘shoe’ tagline was meant to explain so much more than just a simple clothing item.

He had been involved in wars over even more pathetic reasons. He once stood on the ring apron and looked at someone, that started a war that eventually led to him going to jail. That war may rage on elsewhere, but this one, it was a mini-war of sorts. Ever since the bailout, he found himself putting his thoughts to paper, rather than verbally expressing himself over what had been under his skin. Cynthia Rose had gotten under his skin like so many others had.

Sitting on the porch of the Rofflestomp Ranch, the stroke of midnight had come and gone. He didn’t sleep a wink in several days, one would believe that in a heartbeat. With a notebook in his hands, he kicked his feet up onto the rail before pulling out a pen. Time to express one’s self.




‘Dear Colt,

Why does this keep happening? Why does the world continue to look at you as a second class citizen? Socially, you’ve been nothing but a hermit, and maybe that’s for the best. Now though, you have some little girl coming around to tell you that she will defeat you. The same little girl who had been playing the victim card because another female was mean to her. Sure, you were in there, but you had to be the savior. The Great Protector, right? How dare somebody enter the professional wrestling industry and expect everybody to play nice?

So many questions, but the answers are so clear. That night was meant for you to be the star, for the first time in life you were going to be showcased as the guy who conquered the indestructible monster, Ozymandias. This was your moment, your night. Of course, they had to take it away from you, didn’t they? Cynthia Rose was not invited by you, you wanted that one time in your life to actually enjoy being called a Champion. You deserved the attention for that feat. Instead, they ran their mouths in front of you, and then turn it around on you for YOU being selfish. YOU are the selfish one for wanting that moment to give the audience something to actually cheer for. YOU are the bad guy for not saving a naive child from getting insulted on live television. You are a bad man, Colt Montoya.

Of course they’d misconstrued your words. You said the fight was about ‘shoes’. Like an inadequate child, she took that as an insult. If she could have looked into your eyes, and saw things your way, she would have agreed with you, right? It wasn’t about SHOES. Shoes were what set off an unnecessary battle. It wasn’t the shoes, it was the fact that you were pulled into a match with someone because of what someone else had done.

A Champion shouldn’t be pulled into nonsensical garbage like that. That’s cheap. A Champion should be focused on defending the Championship against the best competition on the planet, not fighting the battle of someone else because they threw some shade. You became fodder for the Kimberly and Cynthia show. They wanted the attention, they wanted the spotlight, so they targeted your accomplishment. They targeted your moment and turned it into theirs. Those selfish acts can’t go without consequence.

It will be too easy to overpower a rookie. You are a force of nature that nobody has been able to win a war against. Look at all those people in Wrestleworld that had wronged you, what happened to them? They were put into their place, that’s your responsibility. Cynthia Rose needs to be humbled for her actions. Kimberly Chase needs to be put in her place for making YOUR moment be about her, not you.

You finally become the king of the pack, and you let the cubs steal the most valuable thing in life from you. Time. It’s not some cute tagline about being a construct, it’s about only having so many opportunities to succeed in this little world. Life has deadlines, and it has an expiration date. You need to ensure that their expiration date will come before yours. Don’t let them ever rise above you.

Fate is in your hands, you just need..

You know what you need.



Your only friend,
Colt Montoya’



He kept writing those letters to himself in a desperate plea to himself to find happiness. This wasn’t Cynthia’s fault. She was just a child. She thought she was doing the right thing, but it turned out to open pandora’s box. The box should have never been known to exist, yet it was exposed to the entire world. He wasn’t a bully, but he was frustrated at the lack of respect that he was shown by so many. People kept betting against him. While he would overcome the odds and stun the world each time, it was others that would profiteer from it.

Finally, the pen was set down, and the notebook was closed. Another night of wasted opportuni..

“Only friend?”

Jolting up from his seat, he looked around only to see nothing. His heart rate had jumped so high that one would find his skin turning a light shade of red. Red was kind of a shitty color, when you think about it. A Champion of Europe should bleed blue. He wouldn’t accept that, unfortunately. He didn’t want the world to see him bleed, he wanted the world to just leave him to his thoughts. His thoughts, out of control since the madness had struck him. Ozymandias started the madness, but now we reach a fever pitch.

Going to the only way he could settle his nerves, he pulled out a cigarette and his zippo. He took in a deep breath before lighting it, taking in a drag before sitting back in his chair. The rare instance where he could enjoy the thought of silence was enough to allow him to close his eyes. The horrors were behind him.

“YOU’RE NEVER ALONE!!”

His eyes snapped open as he pushed himself out of the chair. He looked around in a state of panic, only to find nothing around him.

“There we go. That’s what your Kingdom needs. The King needs to be alert, decisive. They need to move past the lies and sins of others with force! You freed us, Colt.”

His fist had clenched, he was ready to strike down whoever this antagonist was. Feeling some heavy breathing on the back of his neck, he turned around, bringing his fist back. All he could see was a warped face in front of him, wearing noblemen clothing. The haunting image caused a double take, but it was still very much in front of him. Was this the madness that Havoc had gone through? Was this the same madness that Ozymandias had lived by?

“Follow me, my King.”

Looking down at his cigarette, he examined whether or not there was something in there that shouldn’t have been. It came out of a fresh pack, he thought. His mind turned down the offer, but his body began moving, slowly walking towards the Nobleman.

“They disrespected you, my King. They took you for granted. Your nobility was a lot like mine, your loyalty was brought into question. Your decisions, they were taunted.”

He could see everything in front of him, he just couldn’t control his movements. It was terrifying, but there was nothing he could have done differently.

“Cynthia Rose is just one in the long line of those who dare to defy you, the Champion of Europe. You must squash her.”

The slow steps between the two led to Colt’s Mustang. Dubbed ‘Panther’ for the speed and the glossy black exterior, it led him on many wild journeys since coming to the company. Now, occupied by the European Champion and this mysterious nobleman in the front seats, the ignition kicked in, allowing the car to take off from the driveway.

“They made this entire ordeal about them. That’s no way to treat a Champion. Cynthia Rose is a mere cub, you run the Pride. You are the one who should have called the shots, my King.”

His hands weren’t even on the wheel, yet it was steering perfectly. His feet were far from the pedals, but the car was speeding down the road. It was something that was symbolic of the way he felt, he had no control. All he could do was sit back and watch the car take the path to darkness.

“Ever since you were crowned Champion, you had people watching you. You had people waiting for that moment of weakness to come and snatch your opportunity and dream from you. Cynthia Rose took it upon herself to insist on being in your way. Kimberly Chase invited her to your celebration without a simple piece of consideration for your actions. You went in there against Ozymandias, you liberated Europe from that man. YOU should have been told. Yet, nobody said anything to you, did they? They waited for you to go out and spread your adulation to the fans about how they drove you, and supported you. Then this little thing decided to step into your path, and mock YOU!”

In his head, he was reaching for the wheel to turn the car around, but nothing was moving. He knew he didn’t have a chance in this situation, and chose to simply listen while feeling the car speed up. It was uncomfortable, but fitting since he hadn’t been able to control himself very much with recent circumstances.

“Is this the King we chose? You aren’t meant to meddle with the weak like that, my King. You are meant to lead us to the promised land, where we belong. You are meant to strike down those who oppose, can you do that? Your connections to failure need to be cut.”

It became clear where he was going. He saw the sign from a distance. The place of his nightmares, the one place that he knew nothing good would come of. The lights grew brighter, blinding him. It was no longer the journey, but the destination. He closed his eyes tightly to escape the light, but it was too late.

Once his eyes had opened, everything felt relatively normal. His arms could move. He was no longer walking toward the darkness with his newfound Nobleman pal. It was so surreal, but it allowed him to finally peel himself off of the wooden flooring as he rose to his feet. In a near stumble, the Champion moved his fingers around to ensure that he wasn’t in some freakish dream.

“Don’t deny yourself the truth, my King. The truth will lead you down the righteous path that you belong on, you will decide the fate of so many. It has to be you.”

The dimly lit building was all too familiar. How did he get from his car to this point? All he could see was reflections, at least, that’s what it looked like. The dreaded House of Mirrors have returned to him. He slowly moved toward one of the mirrors, looking at himself. His eyes were bloodshot, his skin was a little roughed up. He was a typical Colt during the morning after a long night of drinking.

Running his hands over his face, he tried to shake the cobwebs. This was messed up. He took a glance over at the other mirror, but it wasn’t what he thought he’d see. The expectation was gone as he peered at the reflection of his younger self. One of the Gaijin Playboys. He was so full of innocence during that time. They loved him, they admired his spirit.

“Such treasured memories, Colt. It was you that took the plunge. It was you that went all over the world at a young age when all of your hope was lost. Your dreams were dashed, you were no longer a simple baseball player, but a star. Look at him. The bright eyes, the smile. He was the guy that everybody wanted to see, everyone wanted to be. He was naive. He was a fool. He was Cynthia Rose before he opened his eyes to reality and faced the foes that many couldn’t even touch. Nobody could fathom your heart, they didn’t understand what it took to be you. You made those choices, not them. No badges of honor then, no scars, no destructive tendencies, you were a fool. Until your opponent learns the truth of the world around her, she will be just like you were. You need to open her eyes, and you need to do it in the most..creative way.”

Trying to wipe his eyes of this vision, Colt couldn’t comprehend everything that was being given to him.

“What’s going on with me? This isn’t real, is it?”

Every reflection from the House of Mirrors mimicked him. They were trying to be him, like so many others. People want to be a Champion, but few have the heart and the fight to become one. Those lucky enough to hold a title do so in very pathetic ways. Upsetting people in scramble matches, being the weird choice to fight for a vacant championship. They didn’t step into the mouth of Hell to defeat a beast like Ozymandias. They were handed everything, while he had to fight for the most simple prize of all, a chance to wake up the next day.

“Are you going to let Cynthia Rose of all people take that away from you? Are you going to let Kimberly Chase tear your dreams away from you? They’re leading you down the path that you don’t want to be on. You are meant to rule, you are made to rule, Colt..It’s time to forge the legacy that you deserve. It’s time for the pain to come to an end. It’s time to give us what we need. Dominance.”

Pulling himself away from the mirror, he noticed the eyes on him. He turned around, only to see the reflections of Babyka and Dr. Erik Vance. Again, his heart raced as he watched those eyes locked on him. Their expressionless faces brought a whole new level of discomfort to him.

“Lead the Kingdom.”

He slowly approached the reflections of the European Architects, watching intently. Something finally triggered inside of him that this was a dream, it had to be. He shook his head and slowly turned around, only to see one final reflection. A man, dressed in a black hooded Knight coat. The only part of his face that one could see were his eyes and a small part of his face. It was..him.

“What the fuck..”

The ice cold glare coming from the reflection showed no signs of remorse. The agony in the eyes, the hatred that came from them. The Wrestleworld European Title strap wrapped around his right hand. He looked down at his bare hand, slowly raising it towards the mirror. The reflection followed suit, raising the Championship. Lights had begun to flicker before shutting down.

“Welcome Home.”