New Year's Dash To The Top of The Mountain

Violent End’s Press Conference.

I walk into a room right after I was eliminated from the Bloodbath Battle Royal, safe to say I was not pleased in the slightest but I was met with the murmurs of reporters and media personnel along with the loud and bright camera flashes to my eyes. I walk over to where I was told to sit, take my seat and face the small crowd in front of me. Of course, I don’t care for questions... I’d rather get up and leave, they’re not worth my time – but I’m here and there’s nothing to do about it. The woman to my right tells the crowd they can ask questions and like the vultures they are... They pounce at the opportunity. I turn to the woman and tell her

“Pick for me, I can’t be arsed right now,” I say without a care in the world to my tone.

She takes my request kindly and picks someone from the front row to ask. A tall enough man wearing a suit that I could only describe as something my grandfather would wear to an outing, old and depressed-looking.

“Maverick, you’ve become a success within the last week with something you note as the biggest win of your career and now you’ve taken a heavy loss to end the year, does this bring yourself down a bit and how will it affect you leading into the new year?” The man questions, but he could tell from the expression on my face that I don’t fucking care at all.

I bring the microphone closer to my mouth and say

“You talk too much.”

This brings the room to chuckle, but the demeanour on my face makes them aware that I wasn’t intending a joke. Once again, I bring the microphone to my mouth.

“No loss is going to affect me, I never cared for the American Dream Championship. I’m not fucking American, to begin with, nor do I live there, but I have wrestled most of my career in the States.”

The woman to my right picks someone from the back, but with the number of people in front of this person... I could not tell you who she was but her voice sounded young.

“If you don’t care about the American Dream Championship, then what title do you seek in Wrestleworld?”

Finally, a question I can look forward to answering. My demeanour changes to a slight smirk.

“The European Championship or the Shogun Championship, I don’t care about what Claudia and Reno are doing in tonight’s Main Event but my eyes are very resourceful and are looking to pay close attention to Sabertooth, Killebrew and Babayaka,” I say with a slight chuckle from under my breath. “I’m a born and bred European, it’s what I looked for when I first got here. When I was announced for the Battle Royal - I was somewhat happy enough, but not delighted with the opportunity given. I know what my talents are and that American Dream Championship isn’t worth the cut just yet.”

A woman from the third row jumps up right after I speak with a question.

“So would you consider the European Championship the top prize in Wrestleworld or are you trying to build your way up the ranks? Many do see the American Dream Championship as the proverbial World Championship, if you will, of Wrestleworld.”

Although I dislike her ignorance, I love the point that she has made. The American Dream Championship does look like it's the proverbial World Championship and is treated as such. I smile, something I don't normally do to a crowd as such, and I lean back in the chair and bring the microphone closer.

"Here's the thing, ignorant and strange-looking woman…"

She looks back at me in shock, her wide eyes blinking fast at my comment.

"As much as I do care about World Championships and being the top champion in any place I walk into, to me I do not think that such a belt like the American Dream Championship is *the* Championship in Wrestleworld. And if people don't agree with me, then I'll have to give them a reawakening." I say with a smirk on my face. "When I hold that European Championship, not if but when I do, I will make sure it is the most important and looked for title in this company. Because who would want to chase after a title with such an ironic name like the American Dream Championship? I sure as hell fucking don't."

After I finish talking, I stand up before anyone else could raise their hands to ask more questions and once more brings the microphone closer to my mouth.

"I'm done answering your stupid questions, you heard what I've said and you can all fuck off. Hey cameraman..." I say as I point to the camera that has been recording me since I entered the room. "Zoom that fucking thing on my face, get it right in there. Are we good?" I ask, as if intimidating death if he answered wrong.

The cameraman nods.

"Who's in charge of this shit… Jaywalker? Is that his name? Fuck it, who cares. If you work with Wrestleworld and see over everything, then I want you to fucking listen up and listen real good to what I've got to say." I grit my teeth. "I want whoever wins that fucking European Championship and don't think for a second I won't force it. The next chapter? It's my beginning and I'm going to take fucking over. I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true."

I throw the microphone down and head out of the room with the scene quickly fading to black.

Wexford Town, County Wexford, Ireland.
Five Days Before Chapter Seven.

I’ve taken a seat upon the sofa within my apartment home in Wexford Town, a cosy little home for myself and not as spacious as the Penthouse I own in Canton. The television playing a set of music that I have personally switched on to set the mood for myself as I begin to think about my next match.

“So to end the past decade of where I became one of those stuck-up rookies and elevated myself to a brand new platform as I ended that same decade a World Champion...” I say as I pick up the XHW Undisputed Championship. “...and the leader and the face of an entire wrestling network...” This time picking up the XHF X*Crown Championship, a belt customized and made just for me. “...I realise how much this all meant for me but I also must have been blinded by all this to not realise how much of a challenge a Bloodbath Battle Royal would actually be.”

I begin to shake my head in disappointment.

“But now... I’m net with some of the same men and women who I saw throughout the entire playing field of the Battle Royal in what they call a Six-Pack Challenge. There’s me, April Song, Kendra Watts, Arthur Winchester, Aoi Akuma and Megalo.” I speak with a smug look on my face, naming my challengers. “These five men, women and... masked people... they tend to think they’re the best thing going and should deserve this match to be theirs for the taking. Mainly that falls onto Megalo’s idiotic brain within that mask he wears.” I say with a chuckle.

“Megalo, tell me more about you... Why do you feel the need to shout so many times, I get that a mask could  stop your voice from sounding a lot louder underneath it all but does it have to be every two sentences? I mean, I also get that the louder the voice...the more likely you are heard but I don’t think anyone cared to listen to you talk so much shit from your mouth. It’s like verbal diarrhoea, man, you need to shut the fuck up for once in your life.” I bring my hand to my head, massaging it for a moment to rethink of how stupid this man sounds. “See, the person under the mask doesn’t want to talk about the biggest thing that’s going to be sharing the ring with him because he already knows what’s going to happen if he did speak ill of my name... Then again, not wanting to makes it worse. You’ve missed the point of it all to ignore someone that’s actually a World Champion, someone who’s got it all to tell everyone... You guys fucking suck and you have no chance.”

This brings me to laugh a bit.

“Megalo and your little orb thing, you have no idea what you’re in for and that’s what will kill you at the end of the day, you care for a man who’s probably done fuck all for his career and ignore the elephant in the room. As much as I find it rude and ignorant, it’ll cost you a lot come to Chapter Seven. I will rip you apart and tear you down to absolutely nothing, so what are you going to do when that happens? Are you going to scream at the top of your voice again that you deserved to win or are you going to come to terms with the loss?”

I stand up and head out to the balcony, pulling out my black and sleek designed vape pen before taking a pull from it. I lean along the metal bar that surrounds the balcony and look out to the river in front of me.

“And then I come to you, Aoi. Oh, you ignorant little shit, another masked cunt in this match – or I could just fucking call you Jimmy Johnson, like any normal person would do. I have to ask... Do you act stupid in front of the camera or is that just you all the time? I mean – looking at the living joke that is Jimmy Johnson... He was kidnapped by someone named Jim Jimson? Am I really supposed to believe that? I can believe that your family are fucking disappointed with you... Look at you! You walk around like a bloody clown wearing a mask and think you're more intimidating with it on. Stop playing fucking dress up and act like a man for god sake."

Once again I shake my head in disappointment.

"After this is done I'm going to fucking put an end to all of you, especially these two ass wipes that think it's smart to disrespect the best and biggest thing Wrestleworld has… You won't be fucking laughing when I spit on your graves. Maverick out."

Scene ends.