Post by Press1269 on Feb 8, 2016 6:19:14 GMT
THE STORM ESTATE, CHARLOTTE, NC
March 17th 2001
::I look at myself in the mirror, and I wonder to myself...Was it worth it. Was everything that has transpired set in motion by some unknown force. One day you wake up and your the Gladiator Olympic Champion and the Number 1 contendor for the Gladiator Title, and then one day your gone. Abducted by a rival company to the Storm Corporation and held as a bargaining chip for a hostile takeover(A story that might never be told). Now...he's back. No better way to describe it. I've walked away from this buisness one time before on my own...but to be dragged away from my dreams of being Gladiator Champion is a completely unacceptable act of travesty. An act that did'nt go unpunished after I finally escaped the prison created for me by my buisness rivals. My family has a prestiges background...always have, and always will. I'm a blue blood. Born and bred to be a buisnessman who is programed to make more and more money despite what I may have to do to get it. I have never wanted for anything. Never needed anything. I have people who take care of the people who take care of me. Money is of no consequence, and my Net Worth is more so than anyone could ever realize. Am i on the cover of Forbe's magazine....No. Am I listed in People's Top 100 richest people on the planet......No. So if I have as much money as I profess, why is it that I am not entitled to these headlines. Quite frankly...I don't want them. It's hard enough stopping by a gym that I own to work out, without the added stress of Propaganda and Media. It's hard enough to be known as the C.E.O. of one of the largest Fiber Optics & Computer Manufacturing Companys in the world, Ciber Technology and Fundementals. Not to mention my father's involvement in Sony Entertainment. I myself made the deals to fund Dreamworks & bought an extensive amount of Microsoft. So extensive that Bill Gates really would'nt be where he is today, if not for my controbutions. When you roll all of those together, and then counting all the other small buisnesses that I own...You get the final Product...The Storm Corporation. So after cutting all the corners, and makeing all the descisions...why...and I ask this question to myself often....Why would I want to subject my body to acts of torture and hellish destruction in a buisness called Professional Wrestling. It's not because of money. I got plenty of that. It's not about stardome. I could get that any number of ways given my financial situation. What is it that you can say about this desire...this longing to enter a wrestling ring and destroy another human being. What is this thrill that rushes through my body as I dismantle the human form, by any means necessary. Anger swelling in the pit of your stomach for men that have really not done anything to you. Pitted against other warriors for the prize at the end of the road. The Prize that sets you apart from the rest of the group. The Gladiator World Heavyweight Title! Why, when I'm surrounded by all this gold, glitter, and high class life style......am I obsessed with this leather strapped piece of tin. Why?::
**Johnny Storm awakes from his stooper and finds himself standing in front of one out of 43 bathroom mirrors in his N.C. Estate. Johnny Storm's great grandfather, George Washington Vanderbilte had the 250 room home built on 3000 acres of what is now known as the Pisgah National Forest as a sign of how powerful his family actually was. Built in 1865, it was opened to family & friends on a Christmas Eve. Johnny never did know the man who built his house, however he did know that his mother, Sara Elizabeth Vanderbilte, married his father, Johnathon Victor Storm who was well known in his own rights. After his parents accident, Johnny found that he was the only child in line to become the sole proprietor of the estates. All of them, includeing the Ashville home where he has set up his residence. He changed the name to the Storm Estate, and cut it off from the public. Storm finally whipes his face off with a towel, and start out of the bathroom and down a long hallway on the first floor to the end, and then to the right. The next room he enters is a large library of some sorts. There are victorian style book shelves from the floor to the cealing, and they stretch all the way across the room. There is a Desk in the left corner, with a sit down area in the middle of the room. There are various books in under glass surrounding the outside of the sitting area. Storm starts towards the desk, and sits down. It is made of solid English Oak, with a dark varnish on the surface. Storm looks to the computer screen and contimplates finishing up some work that needed to be done, but the finally tuned athlete thinks better of it. He then pushes a button to the side of him that causes a buzzing sound to ring through out the house. One of his many staff members of the house come to his call, and he orders his lunch from the kitchen. The butler leaves him, and he is once again propelled into thought.**
::Why? It's actually not that difficult of a question. Because to me it's nothing but Entertainment. The thrill that comes over me when I stand inside that ring causes me to yearn for nothing more than to be there again. Standing across from other competitors who wish to attack me, cripple me, win over me just to move up on the ladder of success. We meet somewhere in the middle, and although we may have different reasons and motivations for being there....for One fleeting second, we are the same. We are connected. These men and women that I did battle with were probably sadly my best friends. The one true group of people I could depend on to give me all they have, and not because of my money...not because of my Stardome....and not even because of who I am. It's because they wanted the same thing that I wanted. To move up the ladder. The last thing I remember before my abduction, is a gunshot in the parking lot. I paid it no attention, as I climbed into my limo carrying my Olympic Title. While in my prison, all that kept me going was who was that in the parking lot. What is going on with the GWA, and how would I be recieved when I came back. Since that time I have been training here at my North Carolina Estate, and I know of the story. Chris Damm, my former nemesis is the one who was shot that night I was abducted. He is the one who broke my nose, and cracked the left side of his face. I am the one who broke his arm, and attacked his family name. He is the one who drew me to the GWA in the first place. I am the one who attacked him on my first night as a wrestler for the GWA. He is the one who beat me to a bloody pulp in the parking lot. I am the one who electrifed him and his friend Steven Fury with a tasor. He is the one who got stripped of his Gladiator Title due to not being able to defend it. I am the one who got stripped of the Olympic Title because of my sudden disappearance. He is the one who broke it off with his long time love Alexis because of his problems. I am the one who destroyed a corporation, and brought one man to his knees. He is the one who executed an unbelievable match with Riena Siaki. I am the man who executed the man who was responsiable for my disappearance. After all of this, and all of our battles. He is the one I relate to most. The one that no matter what I did, I could always feel that tingle when I stood across the ring from him. The thing about Chris Damm however, is the fact that he feels that tingle too. He just won't admit it. So now he has returned, and here I find myself soon to get back into the swing of things myself. I have no desire to fight the same fights over again...however, I need to feel that same excitement that I once felt while beating him senseless. The thing to worry about now is.....who do I start with first. Mei Himagaji is now holding a title that I want. She is set to battle a woman that I have always wanted to face. Whom ever leaves that match will hold that strap of tin that continue to strive for. Is it possiable that I could destroy them before they even get the chance to fight back. Or perhaps I should focus my attention on a warm up match with one of the other vermin. Perhaps a match with Joey Jackson or Tyler Russell. Perhaps I should contact Griff Truxell, Sebastian Bock, and Alek Cage to find out what happened with my Methods of Violence. However sadly enought it appears that these men do not exist anymore. I see Alek Cage out in the arena, trying to perform....yet he seems distant compared to the man who was under my influence. Steven Fury is still over the GWA, yet they've allowed two Circle Jerkers from Sinn Enterprises to take up the Presidency. And MJ Francis is still by Fury's side after all this time. NOW THAT, is truely amazing. I can see that there is new talent rolling in all the time, and some of the greater stars are folding their hand. Some of them have even forgotten how to play the game. It's sad what happens when a federation is deprived of their main attractions. Now they have one back. Chris Damm. I wonder how well Steven and the blow job queen will handle my reappearance? I have to say, this is going to be Exillerating. This is going to be Exciting. And this is deffinently going to be ENTERTAINING!::
**Storm's thoughts are interrupted by his lunch being brought to him. He nibbles at it for a bit, schemeing in his mind of how he will re-enter the GWA. He stands now, walking back and forth, the thought of action once again eating away at him. He has to do something different, he has to get his life back. He has to get back to the basics of what makes him the Gladiator that he once was. For someone who has everything, he continues the desire to compete for the greatest prize in the Wrestling Buisness. The Gladiator Championship. Storm starts out the door to the Grande Library, and begins towards side stairs that lead to the upper levels. Upon arriveing to the second floor, he starts towards his room where he throws himself on the bed for a nap. He sets his alarm clock, and then buries his face with in his pillow. His only request is to forget about this world for an hour. Unfortunately....alot can happen in an hour.**
**Storm's eyes open as the sun begins to set on the man-made lake that decorates one of the gardens surrounding his enormous home. He starts towards the window, and smiles as the garden seems to come to life with the sounds of frogs & crickets. The wildlife enhabiting the grounds of his mansion were always beautiful, but no more than now considering his past occurances. Now he was devoid of all stress. The nap had done him good. Even the growing tension in his kneck muscles seemed to be eased. Now he could focus on everything he needed to focus on. His return to the GWA and getting his company back on track. Storm's thoughts come to a crashing halt. Movement! Yes...there it was again. Something was creeping through the many tree's and bushes scattered through out the afore mentioned garden. His eyes scan the area, but by now the sun has gone down, and all that is left are the sounds of the crickets. Storm slowly backs away from the window, and reaches down for his phone. His jaw tightens as he presses the "Talk" button, and the red light indicating the phone is on casts a red haze on the relatively pitch black room. He slowly moves the phone up to his ear while keeping a wariy eye on the window. After all the things that had recently happened to him in these past months, he could not afford to be clumsey. He dials the number for 9-1-1, yet as he waits for the ringing sound, he realizes there is nothing but silence. The phone line is no longer in service. The wires have been cut? The connection has just gone bad? No. There was something devious behind the disturbance in radio waves. His eyes scan the area, as he slowly sides steps towards the closet, where he has a loaded Colt Python. The curtains flap in an easy spring breeze, common for North Carolina during this time of year. Storm's heart begins to race, and although he knows it could be nothing, he knows in his gut that there is something amiss. Then he stops. There is a sound from outside his window. Should he break off into a run? Should he make it to the closet and the loaded gun. Was he prepared to pull the trigger again...and to take another man's life. The sound came closer and closer, and his eyes remained glued to the terrace, and the window. Unfortunately for him, The attack came from behind, and not from the window.
Storm takes the hit to the back of the head like he almost knew it was comeing, and rolls forward and up to his feet. Lightening flashes causeing the room to fill with a flood of light, and then disappear back to darkness. Storm takes a moment to look outside, and see the clouds forming, when just a moment ago it was clear skies. Storm does'nt take long to look, as the attackers movements are registered before they are made. The dark figured man brings his fist's barreling down on top of Storm, who throws his left arm up to block it. With his right hand free, he thunders a sharp thrust into the attackers rib cage. This causes the attacker to move back away, distancing himself from Storm with surprise. Storm's eyes advert in the darkness, as it begins to pour down the rain outside on the terrace. Lightening flashes once again, but the light does not provide enough to see who is behind the attack. The anger begins to grow in Storm's soul. It comes from a place within, that swells untill it can't stand to be caged any longer. Storm charges towards the attacker, not waiting for his attack. He swings an angry fist towards him, but he ducks out of the way, and rises with a hard knee into Storm's midsection. This forces Storm bend forward with the sudden pain, as the attackers fist finds Storm's jaw. This sends Storm to the ground, and as the attacker zero's in on him, Storm is able to bring a kick up into his midsection knocking him away long enough for him to get up to his feet. Storm now lunges at the attacker, catching him across the midsection in a spear like manuever. This launches both men through the air, sending them crashing down ontop of an antique corner table. It snaps in under the two men's weight, and they both feel the effects of their bodys hitting the floor with a loud thud. Both men work up to their feet, Storm useing the door panel for support, the Attacker the wall. Storm throws a stiff fist towards the attacker, however he ducks skillfully causeing Storms hand to crash into the wall. Storm feels his hand crack in under the pressure of his own punch. While stunned, the attacker jerks Storm's knee's out from in under him, and mounts him when he hits the ground. Punch after punch sinks into Storm's face, as he lay in a helpless state. Finally Storm lay pressed down to the floor with a choke hold from the mystery attacker. The man with his free hand reaches over to a lamp that has yet to be turned over from the scuffle. He pulls the the chain connected to the light bulb, and the lamp floods the dark room with light. Storm's eyes are shocked when he see's "The Assassin" Skylar Thomas holding him down by his throat. Skylar's smile sends a serge of anger through Storm's body, and he burries his knee into Skylars rib cage. This does not break the hold however, so Storm does so again...again...and again untill finally Skylar releases his throat. Storm's lungs fill with air, and he pushes himself to his feet. Skylar darts towards him but is caught with a hard knee right into his face. Blood pours from Skylars mouth, as a tooth juts out the upper lip. Storm then throws in several hard body shots to the rib cage once more, and Then throws him into the wall. As Storm runs in on Skylar, Thomas throws his foot up and catches Storm right in the nose. He hits the ground hard, and Skylar drapes his foot across Storm's throat. Storm fights for air as Skylar reaches behind his back, and pulls a .45 calibur pistol out into view. He then points the gun down at Storm.**
Mr. Fantastic: Who the hell sent you?
Skylar Thomas: Does it really matter? You're dead. Simple as that.
Mr. Fantastic: Why the hell does this feel so familiar?
Skylar Thomas: Because you idiot....It's happened before.
**Storm squirms in under Skylar's boot, but his thoughts are jumbled with Skylar's answer. Why was this so familiar. What did he mean by, "It's happened before." The pain becomes unbearable as his lungs feel like red hot flames with in his chest. Skylar points the gun right up to Storm's temple, and lets out a laugh as he prepares to pull the trigger. Storm's teeth grind together in anger, but his eyes close in pain. He hears the words of wisdom with in his head, as he prepares for his own death.
Don't let the demons of the past destroy your chances at the future!
The clicking sound goes off...however nothing happens. The clicking sound happens again. And then again. Then again, again, again, and again...untill the clickiing of a trigger being pulled is actually a clapping sound. The sound continues even after Storm's eyes open. He looks up expecting Skylar Thomas, but instead he see's Steven Fury looming over him with his foot placed on his throat. The clapping sound is seen to be MJ Francis bringing her hands together for Fury's actions against Storm. Storm's eyes pierce up at Fury, and rage coarses through his body. It dwells right from the pit of his sould. He could never stand to be held down by anything, let alone another person. Let alone STEVEN FURY & MJ FRANCIS! Storm reachs up through Fury's legs with his own, and drives him down to the floor with a single leg takedown. He jumps to his feet, climbing on top of Fury's much bigger frame and begins hammering away at him. Francis jumps on Storm from behind, and finds himself getting to his feet with her dangling from behind him. He reaches for her hair, and jerks her forward angrily, as Steven tries to get to his feet. Before he can get completely vertical, Storm drops him with a Swift Crescent Kick to his face. Keeping a firm grip of MJ Francis' hair, he slams her frail body up against the wall far wall. Through gritted teath he manuevers himself in her face for a verbal spar.
Mr. Fantastic: What the hell is going on around here?
MJ Francis: You should know Johnathon...this is all your fault. You're the one who has allowed it to go this far.
Mr. Fantastic: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?! You are screwing with my mind...you've done this to me. Always holding me down. Always pushing me back. Keeping me from my goals. Why! Why the hell does this all seem so familiar?
MJ Francis: Because you idiot........it's happened before!
**Storm's eyes grow angry as she smiles back into his face. He drops his grip from her, and raises his hands to his face covering his eyes. He stops, and looks back to where MJ was pinned up against the wall, but all that is there is a female skelaton. Storm falls flat on his butt as he pushes away from her. He looks on in horror as he looks to an ID bracelet that is on her right wrist. Stephanie Connor....OH God...I nearly killed her. No...it was'nt me. It was Cage. I did'nt even give the order. Who was it...who? Storm places his hands over his face once more, and almost wheeps as he sits in the room. Was he out of his mind? Was the trauma of being kidnapped by these men really that devestating to his psyche? He hears the voices again...giveing him the added answers.**
Don't allow the Demons of the past hold you down any longer.
FIGHT PAST YOUR OPPRESSORS!
** Storm drops his hands from his face, and looks to where Stephanie Connor's skeletal figure was just standing. The room has changed once more, and now he stands in a shipyard. He looks about himself, and see's no one. There is only one dock, with one ship. Storm looks about himself just one more time to make sure that he was not imagening it.....and begins towards the ship. It is not very big, but it appears nice enough. Storm slowly emerges the side of the ship as he approaches the dock. He can now make out letters painted on the side of the ship. S.....W.......A. Storm's eyes grow wide, as he now reckognizes the ship that he made his last stand on against The Snatchman. he recieves a pat on the shoulder, which causes him to whirl around...standing there is Snatchman, Reina Siaki, Mei Himagaji, Julius & Jacob Stryker or at one point or another known as the The Stryker Service. Storm begins backing up slowly, and watching the faces that stand before him. Without warning they jump him, beating him down to the cement of the pavment. Reina & Mei hold him up, and Jacob pulls his head up by his hair so that he must look forward. Snatchman stands in front of him now with a smile from ear to ear. He rares his hand back, and drives it hard into his nose. It explodes in under the pressure of Snatchmans fist, and is instantly broken. Storm drops down from the pain, and covers up as they continue their assault. The nagging voice ring's out within his mind.
The more that you endure, the better prepared you are for the next battle.
Don't allow the Demons to bring past occurances to the surface.
The past is the past!
**Storm lay covered up on the ground, listening as the waves crash upon the dock. The assault continues, but now instead of hearing the waves crash it sounds like something else. Something that Storm has heard many times before. The sound that a crowd makes after an amazing manuever that leaves them in a frenzy. While in thought Storm does'nt even realize that the assault is over. Storm uncovers himself, and begins to make his way to his feet slowly. He looks around to see a capacity crowd all around him, The GWA Rampway up above him, the ring out in the center of the arena with a hell in a cell type cage around it, and a broken table with another body laying in the destruction. Storm reaches up and finds blood when he pulls his hand away. He slowly stumbles towards the wreckage, and looks down on the other body. Chris Damm. Storm shakes his head as if to say "No" to an unknown person. He starts to walk away, but Damm begins to move. Storm shakes his head, and remembers this match. The match was for the Legion Tag Team titles. Storm and Damm nearly killed each other, and they both went up and over the side of the rampway through the coffee table below. The fans had erupted, and they do so now. Storm jerks Damm up by the hair of the head, and looks down into his blood stained face...**
Mr. Fantastic: This has already happened you son of a bitch. What the hell is this...some sort of dream? Why? Why the hell am I made to be here now? At this moment in time?
Chris Damm: What Johnny? This is what you wanted...this is what you've always wanted.
Mr. Fantastic: NO GOD DAMN IT! WHY AM HERE! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!
Chris Damm: Is'nt it obvious you Idiot! This happened before! This match happened before! THIS DREAM HAPPENED BEFORE!!
**Storm's eyes grow wide, and the roar of the crowd suddenly ceases to make a peep. He did have this match. He has had this dream before. This was the same dream he had when he faced Chris Damm in the ring for the second time. For all of these reasons, Storm thought that he should hate Chris Damm. When in reality, he never respected anyone more. He has been held down in other federations...here he did what he had to...and it always paid off. This was almost perfect. The dream, the hate, the rage that swells within Storm's body...pumped right into The Gladiator wrestling association. He finally has the answer now...Why would the man who has everything, yearn for the one thing he feels when he's inside the ring at a Gladiator Wrestling Association event. It's the people who stand across from you in the ring. It's the thrill of pumbleing each other just to make some fans happy. "Mr. Fantastic" Johnny Storm is known as one of the dirtiest players in the game. He's worse than others, yet he is also known as the man that everyone loves to hate. Now, more than ever, he knows what he has to do. He knows that he must get started once again. And it has to be this wendsday! At Insurrection, he will show them all why he is the Lord of the Dance, and I'm not talking that river shit neither!**
And Now that you fear no Demons, and you have vanquished all enemies
You can finally look to the future. Now you may understand what it is you must do.
You will never be normal.
You will never be able to let this go.
The only thing left for me to say, is that you are.....
FANTASTIC!
ONE HOUR LATER!
**Johnny Storm's eye's shoot open at the annoying sound of an electronic alarm clock. He rolls over onto his back and presses the off button, then looks to the clock. One Hour exactly. His eyes adjust to the setting sun outside his window. He sits up, and whipes the sweat from his brow acquired through out the dream he has just had. He gets to his feet and looks outside to where one of the many gardens surrounding the house is animated with life. He turns around, and presses a button on a side panel that causes a buzzing sound throught certain parts of the house. Storm has the man servant bring him a bottled water, and he sits down in reflection of the dream he had just had. Thing's would be resolved this time around. No doubt about it, there was a need for the GWA. It was also evident to Johnny Storm, now more than ever, that there was a need in the GWA for "Mr. Fantastic". Storm sits down in his chair, and smiles to himself. He's not sure where the smile comes from, but it is a welcome change to the dream he just encountered.
Mr. Fantastic: Ha! Wait till they see what I got planned for Wendsday!
1
March 17th 2001
::I look at myself in the mirror, and I wonder to myself...Was it worth it. Was everything that has transpired set in motion by some unknown force. One day you wake up and your the Gladiator Olympic Champion and the Number 1 contendor for the Gladiator Title, and then one day your gone. Abducted by a rival company to the Storm Corporation and held as a bargaining chip for a hostile takeover(A story that might never be told). Now...he's back. No better way to describe it. I've walked away from this buisness one time before on my own...but to be dragged away from my dreams of being Gladiator Champion is a completely unacceptable act of travesty. An act that did'nt go unpunished after I finally escaped the prison created for me by my buisness rivals. My family has a prestiges background...always have, and always will. I'm a blue blood. Born and bred to be a buisnessman who is programed to make more and more money despite what I may have to do to get it. I have never wanted for anything. Never needed anything. I have people who take care of the people who take care of me. Money is of no consequence, and my Net Worth is more so than anyone could ever realize. Am i on the cover of Forbe's magazine....No. Am I listed in People's Top 100 richest people on the planet......No. So if I have as much money as I profess, why is it that I am not entitled to these headlines. Quite frankly...I don't want them. It's hard enough stopping by a gym that I own to work out, without the added stress of Propaganda and Media. It's hard enough to be known as the C.E.O. of one of the largest Fiber Optics & Computer Manufacturing Companys in the world, Ciber Technology and Fundementals. Not to mention my father's involvement in Sony Entertainment. I myself made the deals to fund Dreamworks & bought an extensive amount of Microsoft. So extensive that Bill Gates really would'nt be where he is today, if not for my controbutions. When you roll all of those together, and then counting all the other small buisnesses that I own...You get the final Product...The Storm Corporation. So after cutting all the corners, and makeing all the descisions...why...and I ask this question to myself often....Why would I want to subject my body to acts of torture and hellish destruction in a buisness called Professional Wrestling. It's not because of money. I got plenty of that. It's not about stardome. I could get that any number of ways given my financial situation. What is it that you can say about this desire...this longing to enter a wrestling ring and destroy another human being. What is this thrill that rushes through my body as I dismantle the human form, by any means necessary. Anger swelling in the pit of your stomach for men that have really not done anything to you. Pitted against other warriors for the prize at the end of the road. The Prize that sets you apart from the rest of the group. The Gladiator World Heavyweight Title! Why, when I'm surrounded by all this gold, glitter, and high class life style......am I obsessed with this leather strapped piece of tin. Why?::
**Johnny Storm awakes from his stooper and finds himself standing in front of one out of 43 bathroom mirrors in his N.C. Estate. Johnny Storm's great grandfather, George Washington Vanderbilte had the 250 room home built on 3000 acres of what is now known as the Pisgah National Forest as a sign of how powerful his family actually was. Built in 1865, it was opened to family & friends on a Christmas Eve. Johnny never did know the man who built his house, however he did know that his mother, Sara Elizabeth Vanderbilte, married his father, Johnathon Victor Storm who was well known in his own rights. After his parents accident, Johnny found that he was the only child in line to become the sole proprietor of the estates. All of them, includeing the Ashville home where he has set up his residence. He changed the name to the Storm Estate, and cut it off from the public. Storm finally whipes his face off with a towel, and start out of the bathroom and down a long hallway on the first floor to the end, and then to the right. The next room he enters is a large library of some sorts. There are victorian style book shelves from the floor to the cealing, and they stretch all the way across the room. There is a Desk in the left corner, with a sit down area in the middle of the room. There are various books in under glass surrounding the outside of the sitting area. Storm starts towards the desk, and sits down. It is made of solid English Oak, with a dark varnish on the surface. Storm looks to the computer screen and contimplates finishing up some work that needed to be done, but the finally tuned athlete thinks better of it. He then pushes a button to the side of him that causes a buzzing sound to ring through out the house. One of his many staff members of the house come to his call, and he orders his lunch from the kitchen. The butler leaves him, and he is once again propelled into thought.**
::Why? It's actually not that difficult of a question. Because to me it's nothing but Entertainment. The thrill that comes over me when I stand inside that ring causes me to yearn for nothing more than to be there again. Standing across from other competitors who wish to attack me, cripple me, win over me just to move up on the ladder of success. We meet somewhere in the middle, and although we may have different reasons and motivations for being there....for One fleeting second, we are the same. We are connected. These men and women that I did battle with were probably sadly my best friends. The one true group of people I could depend on to give me all they have, and not because of my money...not because of my Stardome....and not even because of who I am. It's because they wanted the same thing that I wanted. To move up the ladder. The last thing I remember before my abduction, is a gunshot in the parking lot. I paid it no attention, as I climbed into my limo carrying my Olympic Title. While in my prison, all that kept me going was who was that in the parking lot. What is going on with the GWA, and how would I be recieved when I came back. Since that time I have been training here at my North Carolina Estate, and I know of the story. Chris Damm, my former nemesis is the one who was shot that night I was abducted. He is the one who broke my nose, and cracked the left side of his face. I am the one who broke his arm, and attacked his family name. He is the one who drew me to the GWA in the first place. I am the one who attacked him on my first night as a wrestler for the GWA. He is the one who beat me to a bloody pulp in the parking lot. I am the one who electrifed him and his friend Steven Fury with a tasor. He is the one who got stripped of his Gladiator Title due to not being able to defend it. I am the one who got stripped of the Olympic Title because of my sudden disappearance. He is the one who broke it off with his long time love Alexis because of his problems. I am the one who destroyed a corporation, and brought one man to his knees. He is the one who executed an unbelievable match with Riena Siaki. I am the man who executed the man who was responsiable for my disappearance. After all of this, and all of our battles. He is the one I relate to most. The one that no matter what I did, I could always feel that tingle when I stood across the ring from him. The thing about Chris Damm however, is the fact that he feels that tingle too. He just won't admit it. So now he has returned, and here I find myself soon to get back into the swing of things myself. I have no desire to fight the same fights over again...however, I need to feel that same excitement that I once felt while beating him senseless. The thing to worry about now is.....who do I start with first. Mei Himagaji is now holding a title that I want. She is set to battle a woman that I have always wanted to face. Whom ever leaves that match will hold that strap of tin that continue to strive for. Is it possiable that I could destroy them before they even get the chance to fight back. Or perhaps I should focus my attention on a warm up match with one of the other vermin. Perhaps a match with Joey Jackson or Tyler Russell. Perhaps I should contact Griff Truxell, Sebastian Bock, and Alek Cage to find out what happened with my Methods of Violence. However sadly enought it appears that these men do not exist anymore. I see Alek Cage out in the arena, trying to perform....yet he seems distant compared to the man who was under my influence. Steven Fury is still over the GWA, yet they've allowed two Circle Jerkers from Sinn Enterprises to take up the Presidency. And MJ Francis is still by Fury's side after all this time. NOW THAT, is truely amazing. I can see that there is new talent rolling in all the time, and some of the greater stars are folding their hand. Some of them have even forgotten how to play the game. It's sad what happens when a federation is deprived of their main attractions. Now they have one back. Chris Damm. I wonder how well Steven and the blow job queen will handle my reappearance? I have to say, this is going to be Exillerating. This is going to be Exciting. And this is deffinently going to be ENTERTAINING!::
**Storm's thoughts are interrupted by his lunch being brought to him. He nibbles at it for a bit, schemeing in his mind of how he will re-enter the GWA. He stands now, walking back and forth, the thought of action once again eating away at him. He has to do something different, he has to get his life back. He has to get back to the basics of what makes him the Gladiator that he once was. For someone who has everything, he continues the desire to compete for the greatest prize in the Wrestling Buisness. The Gladiator Championship. Storm starts out the door to the Grande Library, and begins towards side stairs that lead to the upper levels. Upon arriveing to the second floor, he starts towards his room where he throws himself on the bed for a nap. He sets his alarm clock, and then buries his face with in his pillow. His only request is to forget about this world for an hour. Unfortunately....alot can happen in an hour.**
**Storm's eyes open as the sun begins to set on the man-made lake that decorates one of the gardens surrounding his enormous home. He starts towards the window, and smiles as the garden seems to come to life with the sounds of frogs & crickets. The wildlife enhabiting the grounds of his mansion were always beautiful, but no more than now considering his past occurances. Now he was devoid of all stress. The nap had done him good. Even the growing tension in his kneck muscles seemed to be eased. Now he could focus on everything he needed to focus on. His return to the GWA and getting his company back on track. Storm's thoughts come to a crashing halt. Movement! Yes...there it was again. Something was creeping through the many tree's and bushes scattered through out the afore mentioned garden. His eyes scan the area, but by now the sun has gone down, and all that is left are the sounds of the crickets. Storm slowly backs away from the window, and reaches down for his phone. His jaw tightens as he presses the "Talk" button, and the red light indicating the phone is on casts a red haze on the relatively pitch black room. He slowly moves the phone up to his ear while keeping a wariy eye on the window. After all the things that had recently happened to him in these past months, he could not afford to be clumsey. He dials the number for 9-1-1, yet as he waits for the ringing sound, he realizes there is nothing but silence. The phone line is no longer in service. The wires have been cut? The connection has just gone bad? No. There was something devious behind the disturbance in radio waves. His eyes scan the area, as he slowly sides steps towards the closet, where he has a loaded Colt Python. The curtains flap in an easy spring breeze, common for North Carolina during this time of year. Storm's heart begins to race, and although he knows it could be nothing, he knows in his gut that there is something amiss. Then he stops. There is a sound from outside his window. Should he break off into a run? Should he make it to the closet and the loaded gun. Was he prepared to pull the trigger again...and to take another man's life. The sound came closer and closer, and his eyes remained glued to the terrace, and the window. Unfortunately for him, The attack came from behind, and not from the window.
Storm takes the hit to the back of the head like he almost knew it was comeing, and rolls forward and up to his feet. Lightening flashes causeing the room to fill with a flood of light, and then disappear back to darkness. Storm takes a moment to look outside, and see the clouds forming, when just a moment ago it was clear skies. Storm does'nt take long to look, as the attackers movements are registered before they are made. The dark figured man brings his fist's barreling down on top of Storm, who throws his left arm up to block it. With his right hand free, he thunders a sharp thrust into the attackers rib cage. This causes the attacker to move back away, distancing himself from Storm with surprise. Storm's eyes advert in the darkness, as it begins to pour down the rain outside on the terrace. Lightening flashes once again, but the light does not provide enough to see who is behind the attack. The anger begins to grow in Storm's soul. It comes from a place within, that swells untill it can't stand to be caged any longer. Storm charges towards the attacker, not waiting for his attack. He swings an angry fist towards him, but he ducks out of the way, and rises with a hard knee into Storm's midsection. This forces Storm bend forward with the sudden pain, as the attackers fist finds Storm's jaw. This sends Storm to the ground, and as the attacker zero's in on him, Storm is able to bring a kick up into his midsection knocking him away long enough for him to get up to his feet. Storm now lunges at the attacker, catching him across the midsection in a spear like manuever. This launches both men through the air, sending them crashing down ontop of an antique corner table. It snaps in under the two men's weight, and they both feel the effects of their bodys hitting the floor with a loud thud. Both men work up to their feet, Storm useing the door panel for support, the Attacker the wall. Storm throws a stiff fist towards the attacker, however he ducks skillfully causeing Storms hand to crash into the wall. Storm feels his hand crack in under the pressure of his own punch. While stunned, the attacker jerks Storm's knee's out from in under him, and mounts him when he hits the ground. Punch after punch sinks into Storm's face, as he lay in a helpless state. Finally Storm lay pressed down to the floor with a choke hold from the mystery attacker. The man with his free hand reaches over to a lamp that has yet to be turned over from the scuffle. He pulls the the chain connected to the light bulb, and the lamp floods the dark room with light. Storm's eyes are shocked when he see's "The Assassin" Skylar Thomas holding him down by his throat. Skylar's smile sends a serge of anger through Storm's body, and he burries his knee into Skylars rib cage. This does not break the hold however, so Storm does so again...again...and again untill finally Skylar releases his throat. Storm's lungs fill with air, and he pushes himself to his feet. Skylar darts towards him but is caught with a hard knee right into his face. Blood pours from Skylars mouth, as a tooth juts out the upper lip. Storm then throws in several hard body shots to the rib cage once more, and Then throws him into the wall. As Storm runs in on Skylar, Thomas throws his foot up and catches Storm right in the nose. He hits the ground hard, and Skylar drapes his foot across Storm's throat. Storm fights for air as Skylar reaches behind his back, and pulls a .45 calibur pistol out into view. He then points the gun down at Storm.**
Mr. Fantastic: Who the hell sent you?
Skylar Thomas: Does it really matter? You're dead. Simple as that.
Mr. Fantastic: Why the hell does this feel so familiar?
Skylar Thomas: Because you idiot....It's happened before.
**Storm squirms in under Skylar's boot, but his thoughts are jumbled with Skylar's answer. Why was this so familiar. What did he mean by, "It's happened before." The pain becomes unbearable as his lungs feel like red hot flames with in his chest. Skylar points the gun right up to Storm's temple, and lets out a laugh as he prepares to pull the trigger. Storm's teeth grind together in anger, but his eyes close in pain. He hears the words of wisdom with in his head, as he prepares for his own death.
Don't let the demons of the past destroy your chances at the future!
The clicking sound goes off...however nothing happens. The clicking sound happens again. And then again. Then again, again, again, and again...untill the clickiing of a trigger being pulled is actually a clapping sound. The sound continues even after Storm's eyes open. He looks up expecting Skylar Thomas, but instead he see's Steven Fury looming over him with his foot placed on his throat. The clapping sound is seen to be MJ Francis bringing her hands together for Fury's actions against Storm. Storm's eyes pierce up at Fury, and rage coarses through his body. It dwells right from the pit of his sould. He could never stand to be held down by anything, let alone another person. Let alone STEVEN FURY & MJ FRANCIS! Storm reachs up through Fury's legs with his own, and drives him down to the floor with a single leg takedown. He jumps to his feet, climbing on top of Fury's much bigger frame and begins hammering away at him. Francis jumps on Storm from behind, and finds himself getting to his feet with her dangling from behind him. He reaches for her hair, and jerks her forward angrily, as Steven tries to get to his feet. Before he can get completely vertical, Storm drops him with a Swift Crescent Kick to his face. Keeping a firm grip of MJ Francis' hair, he slams her frail body up against the wall far wall. Through gritted teath he manuevers himself in her face for a verbal spar.
Mr. Fantastic: What the hell is going on around here?
MJ Francis: You should know Johnathon...this is all your fault. You're the one who has allowed it to go this far.
Mr. Fantastic: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?! You are screwing with my mind...you've done this to me. Always holding me down. Always pushing me back. Keeping me from my goals. Why! Why the hell does this all seem so familiar?
MJ Francis: Because you idiot........it's happened before!
**Storm's eyes grow angry as she smiles back into his face. He drops his grip from her, and raises his hands to his face covering his eyes. He stops, and looks back to where MJ was pinned up against the wall, but all that is there is a female skelaton. Storm falls flat on his butt as he pushes away from her. He looks on in horror as he looks to an ID bracelet that is on her right wrist. Stephanie Connor....OH God...I nearly killed her. No...it was'nt me. It was Cage. I did'nt even give the order. Who was it...who? Storm places his hands over his face once more, and almost wheeps as he sits in the room. Was he out of his mind? Was the trauma of being kidnapped by these men really that devestating to his psyche? He hears the voices again...giveing him the added answers.**
Don't allow the Demons of the past hold you down any longer.
FIGHT PAST YOUR OPPRESSORS!
** Storm drops his hands from his face, and looks to where Stephanie Connor's skeletal figure was just standing. The room has changed once more, and now he stands in a shipyard. He looks about himself, and see's no one. There is only one dock, with one ship. Storm looks about himself just one more time to make sure that he was not imagening it.....and begins towards the ship. It is not very big, but it appears nice enough. Storm slowly emerges the side of the ship as he approaches the dock. He can now make out letters painted on the side of the ship. S.....W.......A. Storm's eyes grow wide, as he now reckognizes the ship that he made his last stand on against The Snatchman. he recieves a pat on the shoulder, which causes him to whirl around...standing there is Snatchman, Reina Siaki, Mei Himagaji, Julius & Jacob Stryker or at one point or another known as the The Stryker Service. Storm begins backing up slowly, and watching the faces that stand before him. Without warning they jump him, beating him down to the cement of the pavment. Reina & Mei hold him up, and Jacob pulls his head up by his hair so that he must look forward. Snatchman stands in front of him now with a smile from ear to ear. He rares his hand back, and drives it hard into his nose. It explodes in under the pressure of Snatchmans fist, and is instantly broken. Storm drops down from the pain, and covers up as they continue their assault. The nagging voice ring's out within his mind.
The more that you endure, the better prepared you are for the next battle.
Don't allow the Demons to bring past occurances to the surface.
The past is the past!
**Storm lay covered up on the ground, listening as the waves crash upon the dock. The assault continues, but now instead of hearing the waves crash it sounds like something else. Something that Storm has heard many times before. The sound that a crowd makes after an amazing manuever that leaves them in a frenzy. While in thought Storm does'nt even realize that the assault is over. Storm uncovers himself, and begins to make his way to his feet slowly. He looks around to see a capacity crowd all around him, The GWA Rampway up above him, the ring out in the center of the arena with a hell in a cell type cage around it, and a broken table with another body laying in the destruction. Storm reaches up and finds blood when he pulls his hand away. He slowly stumbles towards the wreckage, and looks down on the other body. Chris Damm. Storm shakes his head as if to say "No" to an unknown person. He starts to walk away, but Damm begins to move. Storm shakes his head, and remembers this match. The match was for the Legion Tag Team titles. Storm and Damm nearly killed each other, and they both went up and over the side of the rampway through the coffee table below. The fans had erupted, and they do so now. Storm jerks Damm up by the hair of the head, and looks down into his blood stained face...**
Mr. Fantastic: This has already happened you son of a bitch. What the hell is this...some sort of dream? Why? Why the hell am I made to be here now? At this moment in time?
Chris Damm: What Johnny? This is what you wanted...this is what you've always wanted.
Mr. Fantastic: NO GOD DAMN IT! WHY AM HERE! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!
Chris Damm: Is'nt it obvious you Idiot! This happened before! This match happened before! THIS DREAM HAPPENED BEFORE!!
**Storm's eyes grow wide, and the roar of the crowd suddenly ceases to make a peep. He did have this match. He has had this dream before. This was the same dream he had when he faced Chris Damm in the ring for the second time. For all of these reasons, Storm thought that he should hate Chris Damm. When in reality, he never respected anyone more. He has been held down in other federations...here he did what he had to...and it always paid off. This was almost perfect. The dream, the hate, the rage that swells within Storm's body...pumped right into The Gladiator wrestling association. He finally has the answer now...Why would the man who has everything, yearn for the one thing he feels when he's inside the ring at a Gladiator Wrestling Association event. It's the people who stand across from you in the ring. It's the thrill of pumbleing each other just to make some fans happy. "Mr. Fantastic" Johnny Storm is known as one of the dirtiest players in the game. He's worse than others, yet he is also known as the man that everyone loves to hate. Now, more than ever, he knows what he has to do. He knows that he must get started once again. And it has to be this wendsday! At Insurrection, he will show them all why he is the Lord of the Dance, and I'm not talking that river shit neither!**
And Now that you fear no Demons, and you have vanquished all enemies
You can finally look to the future. Now you may understand what it is you must do.
You will never be normal.
You will never be able to let this go.
The only thing left for me to say, is that you are.....
FANTASTIC!
ONE HOUR LATER!
**Johnny Storm's eye's shoot open at the annoying sound of an electronic alarm clock. He rolls over onto his back and presses the off button, then looks to the clock. One Hour exactly. His eyes adjust to the setting sun outside his window. He sits up, and whipes the sweat from his brow acquired through out the dream he has just had. He gets to his feet and looks outside to where one of the many gardens surrounding the house is animated with life. He turns around, and presses a button on a side panel that causes a buzzing sound throught certain parts of the house. Storm has the man servant bring him a bottled water, and he sits down in reflection of the dream he had just had. Thing's would be resolved this time around. No doubt about it, there was a need for the GWA. It was also evident to Johnny Storm, now more than ever, that there was a need in the GWA for "Mr. Fantastic". Storm sits down in his chair, and smiles to himself. He's not sure where the smile comes from, but it is a welcome change to the dream he just encountered.
Mr. Fantastic: Ha! Wait till they see what I got planned for Wendsday!
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