Post by Press1269 on Feb 27, 2016 4:03:38 GMT
AUGUST 29th, 2001
NEW YORK, NEW YORK
WALDORF ASTORIA HOTEL
THE END: 1:00 p.m.
::Johnny Storm enters through the elaborately decorated doors of the Waldorf Astoria's presidential suite. His duffle bag tucked in under his arm...his key down at his side. He uses the heel of his foot to close the door, gently causing the latch to catch. Locking it automatically. He sets his duffle bag down on the stand next to the door, and takes a few strides forward before coming to the wet bar on the right. He allows the keys to fall from his hand....limply rattling against the hard wood finish of the old building. Storm's eyes move to the large plate glass that moves across the entire side of one wall. A patio like balcony out on the terrace, with an umbrella covered table. It's raining now, water pouring out the drainage areas down a long metal pipe that moves down 45 other floors.....pouring out into a sewer drain in the street. Storm slowly makes his way to the window, looking out into the midst of the cold gloomy sky. The room was silent. Almost scary for someone in Johnny Storm's profession to find himself in silence. It had been to long since he was by himself to think. But what was there to think about.
His lost money? The fact that it had been almost 6 months since his money had went missing.....and yet no one has been able to locate it. Perhaps he could think about his lost friends? The people who made this sport worth his time. The ones who pushed him to the limit like no one else could. Not just physically....but mentally. They actually made you feel like you were alive, by putting you through the same pain and suffering you plan to put them through. The ones that would always pay you attention as long as you fed them the same amount that they paid you. Maybe he could even think about his lost love? Scarlett Rayne Sengir had cut his heart out, and left him there to die. His feelings for her were unable to continue...for lack of will to continue his own life. Maybe he could think about the loss of his Gladiator Championship. In four months he had not been apart from the title....and yet for the first time since his winning it......it was not in his bag. It was not non-chalantly thrown across his shoulder during a promo. It was in the possession of Steven Fury....and that was enough to make anyone go nuts.
Johnny Storm had realized two things this week. The fact that he was tired of losing his posessions. And the fact that he missed the companionship that he once had....when Chris Damm broke his nose. His hand raises up to his now broken nose....at the hands of Anton Rayge. It was the same break, but not for the same reason. It wasn't because Anton really wanted to prove something...it was because Anton was proving what Johnny Storm had said about him all along. That wasn't Anton Rayge conducting that attack...it was Johnny Storm all along. Anton was nothing but a puppet who had been held up by the strings, and danced with. He was nothing but a mere shell of what he could have been....but now without Johnny Storm there to hold him up, it would only be a matter of time before he sunk deeper into the abyss of nothingness. Cause that word explained Anton Rayge best......'Nothing'.
Johnny Storm had waisted his life on pain and regret, and on how much he could possiably get out of a situation. Whether it be bad or good. He had prided himself on walking through competition....and being able to thwart off most threats. Everyone has their fall from time to time...but for some reason this was beyond just a normal fall. This was like losing apart of yourself, and knowing you can't ever get it back. Almost like your virginity. Once taken, once used.....you can never use it again. You are never pure again...and no amount of praying will help you get it back. It's gone forever as soon as you take the time to spend it. Was it possiable the same rule applied to talent. Wrestling Talent....Entertaining Talent.....the Talent to paint...the Talent to breathe. Was it possiable these things could be waisted....and after they are used up, they never come back. Or do they simply need time to regenerate. Do they need time to heal like say...a Broken nose....or a borken rib. Or was it like cutting something out of you......or off of you for that matter. LIke a severed finger?
Storm smirks..he hadn't felt that good in a while. That was getting personal. Anton Rayge & He were doing something that everyone else had seemed to forgotten about. They were taking the depths of entertainment, and playing it on their own field. They were doing what they wanted to do. Or at least Storm was. Anton Rayge was after all just a shadow that could be left behind at any time. Speaking of shadows...where was his. Following him...lurking behind him. He remembered what it was like to be in the shadows. To be pushed beind someone who didn't have half the talent.....or half the draw....or half the charisma that he had with those people. Snatchman....Terry Kenshin.....Jacob Stryker....names that Storm remembers, but to the newer guys in the dressing room....they are nothing but forgotten memories. Whispers in the wind that no one bothers to hear anymore.
Is that what was awaiting Storm? Is that what was bothering him so much here lately. Becoming one of those names that are so easily forgotten. No one would ever think that of him now...cause Johnny Storm is a house hold name...but when you come to think of it; Back then so were they. The night before Insurrection Stephanie Connor & he had a nice talk about such events. Was it possiable that the two of them were apart of dieing breed. The last ones in a long line of fallen Main Eventers. Chris Damm had fallen after all. From his sanity...from his girlfriend Alexis....from the world as we know it. Steven Fury had fallen from the ring, and although he had a nice coushy job behind a desk......it seemed like that was where he wanted to be. Power can be a confusing tool sometimes. It can either prove to be helpful to you, or it can be used to dig your grave that much deeper. In Steven Fury's case......You would have to believe it's made him vulnerable. How would he handle life without that seat in the high chair. Storm's estimation.....not very well.
Johnny Storm had forgotten who he was a long time ago. He had always been rich, but never much cared. He never had to worry about money, because he had others worrying about making him more. The more he makes, the less involved he has to be with his own transactions. Johnny Storm now a days wasn't involved at all. So that could tell someone how much he is honestly worth in dollar & market value. But how much was he worth to himself? That was the question that continued to move through his mind. All the mistakes he has made over the years of his existance, that haven't even been to extensive. He was 25 years old, and he was a multi-billionaire......multiple time Heavy Weight Champion in a number of feds......and he was at the top of his given profession. Yet why was there this feeling of loss. Where did it all go...and if he were ever to be dropped back to the bottom of the GWA food chain, would he be strong enough to pull himself back up to that spot at the top. Perhaps it was time for Johnny Storm to end it. To fall in line with all the rest of the legends that had graced a GWA ring.
His memories wander to past events. Some where he had won. Some where he had lost. He is drawn to the match that started him on this obsession with the Gladiator Title. Adrenaline Eruption. It was an ungodly match...set inside a Hell In a Cell. Three rings right across from each other, and a tunnel leading out of the cell. The first to get out of the cell, and climb up the stair ways of the Roman Colloseum...and get his hands on the Gladiator Championship....would be the undesputed victor. Two men came out of that cage by the end of the night. One being Johnny Storm. The other being his nemesis Chris Damm. It was more than just an epic battle. It was two people who loved each other as much as they hated. They were best friends......and they didn't hang out together. They didn't stay up late on the phone talking, and sharing stories. Every thing they shared was there on the battle field. The blood...the sweat....Storm's fractured Cheek Bone....Damm's broken Arm. Out there within the midst of all those people....within the heart of two lions on a field for territory & supremecy...those two men turned a war into an art form. Something that will never be seen again inside a GWA ring. The saddest part of the entire tale....is the two men never got the chance to do it again......
His memories wash over him like a gentle breeze....unlike the storm that began to rage outside the Waldorf Astoria. His return in march wasn't supposed to be like this. Reina Saiaki....Mei Himagaji.....Chris Damm. This was the chance of a life time. A gathering of the GWA legends into one match. Chris Damm however never made it to the dance. Mei Himagaji was in a fued with Reina Saiaki.....and Johnny Storm was thrown right in the middle of it all. The true battle wasn't between Storm & Mei however. It wasn't between Saiaki & Himagaji. It was Johnny Storm & Reina Saiaki who went at it tooth and nail. The two had wanted each other so bad, and in the end it came down to the two of them to decide it. Blood pumped from a gash over top of Reina's left eye from a well placed punch. Storm's eye was puffing out due to a swift martial arts type kick by Reina. The ending would change Storm's life forever. That was the moment he felt alone. The loss at the hands of Reina Saiaki was not what threw him off balance. It was the words that came after her gracious win, that shocked him into this state of unassurity. She quit. She dropped the championship right there on the mat, and walked away from this buisness.....away from Storm. The same way Chris Damm had done. The same way Trace VanReardon had done. The shock that Storm was the only one left..has brought us back to the here and now.
Johnny Storm's eyes push out through the sea of people. The water beading down the back of his shirt, while tickling the hairs on the back of his neck as it rolls down his skin. His muscles tense up for a moment in under the freezing rain......but relax soon enough as he comes to the edge....where he now looks down at the antsize world below him. Life was not valued at what it used to be. He had been abandoned. Since his very begining he had been abandoned. HIs mother and father died in a plane crash when he was 5 years old, leaving him an estate....leaving him with an abundance of money....but leaving him unloved. Sometimes when you have everything, you have nothing. To understand this, you have to be inside the circumstances. Not just a passer by, like all the others that have filled Storm's life. Storm remembers the night...the smell of his mothers hair, as she placed him in a charlotte bed. Her glittering jewelry dancing across the candle light that they left on just for him when they were away for more than a day. The staff was never eager to see them go, seeing as how Johnny was a handful as a tyke. Except in under the gaze of his parent's loving stare. It was almost as if their eyes embraced you......and those memories are all he has of them. He can't remember his fathers voice anymore. It's lost among a sea of others. He doesn't remember his 4th birthday....because every memory before the moment of their death is a blur.
**I know this place...**
::Storm smiles slightly....the air in under his arms as he extends them outwards. Standing on the ledge of the stone terrace, feeling the wind of being up so high push up in under him. It almost feels as if he has enough resistance....that he could simply step off of the ledge and fly. That's what he wanted to do. Fly away from Johnny Storm. Fly away from Scarlett Rayne Sengir. Fly away from the GWA. Fly away to a place where he was normal. A place where he had no money. A place where he had no fame. Perhaps in a place such as that he could get someone to care, without having to beat their brains in with a lead pipe. That's what it took in his current life. It was getting harder and harder to address the superstars of the GWA, and it was like they continued to ignore him. Before all it took was an ill word, or a mention of their name. The next thing you know...your locked in a death grip. They want your body beaten...they want your sould broken. They actually care. This place was a nice place of escape, but it's not mine anymore. There is no death grip....no human emotion pumped into it at all. Just entertainment value, and television ratings. Where did the personal endeavours end?::
**I remember you...That's the tattered remains of what used to be my soul. The hell that I have brought down upon myself because of my own actions. Allowing you to move through me. I smell your hair...much like my mothers before she left. I taste your skin like sweet honey. I know your touch. I hear your words dripping down the cortex of my brain, and I do nothing but crave the next mouth full selfishly. I need to know you completely....to feel complete myself. I miss your gaze..the one you used upon me to drive the nexus of my being into a state of withdrawal when you stopped placing it upon me. I've lost hold of all that I was, and I've lost hold of all that I am. This inner strength is not mine. I can not use it without you. I need more than this kiss to remind me of your sweet tendancies. I am alone here inside myself.....you reached me. Don't turn me away now. Please for the love of god do not turn me back unto myself. For if I am forbidden to be there, then that is where I shall die. By myself with no one else to look after me. To look towards me. Join me in the place where we found each other...rather than the people we had made ourselves appear to be. I see now that this is a lost grievance. This is something....that I have to live with for the rest of my life. You took my parents. You took my girl. You took my money. You took my soul. You took my memories. You took my life. You took that which made me, me. And NOW.....NOW I WANT ME BACK! I am sick of playing this deluded fool. I want the person who is unafraid. Unafraid of you, and unafraid of her. I want the person who stared down the barrell of a loaded gun...and thought that it was entertaining, cause you could see inside the person...that they didn't have the guts to pull the trigger. I miss the person who was knee deep in secret dealings that could end or begin a persons career. Where have you gone Johnny Storm?**
::Storm moves closer to the edge. The toes of his shoes hanging over the ledge now, and the only thing holding him from falling is the heel. The rain pours out onto him, and Johnny Storm shoots his eyes towards heaven......the grey clouds swirling about him....so high that it appears he could reach out and touch the lightening that streaks across the sky. He allows a deep breath, that is replaced by steam as it exhales out of his body. The cold air nips at his flesh as he stands upon the ledge defiantly. Begging for the lightening to strike him. Almost if this was what he was asking. Quick..forgiveing mercy. Mercy from God that would take this pain within his chest away from him. His heart skips a beat, as he reaches to his button down shirt......stripping each of them away from the string that holds them bound to the fabric. The rain bounces off his bare skin like bullets, ricocheting blood outwards...causing splashes. He lowers his head for just a moment.....the water dripping from his hair down into his face. His breathing begins to increase.....his gumption building inside of him. Ready and willing to lose what it is everyone wishes they could have. His life. Everyone wanted Johnny Storm's life. The fans thought it would be so great to have all that money. Have the looks and the glamour that came along with being a superstar. The other Superstars knew he had the gold.....they all wanted it. They wanted his amazing ability to torture another man out in the ring, and make the people eat every last drop of it like it was their favorite meal.
Storm raises his face upwards again....and breathes in the thick New York air through gritted teeth. His eyes begging for God to do it. Threatening God. The snarl comes from out of no where....his anger brought to the surface, to mask the amount of sorrow he was feeling for himself. It was starting to beome to much. Losing everything that made him who he was. Losing the man inside of the vessel that was Johnny Storm. He was suddenly tired. Tired of everything. Tired of putting up a struggle against his transgressors....Tired of facing another person week in & week out for something as unimportant as a piece of golden tin. Tired of loving, but not feeling that returned to him. Tired of missing the person he longed to hold him. Tired of being who he was. Tired of trying to make up excuses cause he can't be that person anymore. Tired of Steven Fury. Tired of MJ Francis. Tired of Eric Rayne. Tired of Chris Carpenter. Tired of Marcus Gaines. Tired of Dark Tiger. Tired of Scarlett Rayne Sengir...but most importantly.....Tired of his own f*cking self. Tired of hearing his own obsessive whining and disappointment about what he has become. Tired of the sniveling....and the countless unheard threats that he continued to make with a partially loaded Colt Python. He had pointed that gun a million times at himself, and yet....he wasn't dead yet. Because of luck? Hell no......because of his own f*cking lack of fortitude to put a bullet in his head, and end the suffering he has felt since he was 5 years old, and was made to grow into an adult.
Johnny Storm sneers down at the city. A city that he contributed so much to as a GWA superstar, as a multi-billionaire, and as a first class asshole! Society judged him for how much money he made, but the money he made was generated by society's interest in his products. He knew exactly what he would have to give up for these people to finally love him. To find a smidgen of love, in a place that seemed so barron of it. HIs poor heart couldn't take this much more. Everything was being compromised.....all in one short month. Within the coarse of this month he has lost his bearings on life. He has lost Scarlett. and he has lost the Gladiator Championship. A man can only take so much, or so they say. This was his rope...and finally the loss of the Gladiator title put him at the end of it.::
**I know this place... I remember you....You are relief. Relief from my sins, and my pain. Why did it take you so long to come back to me.**
::Johnny Storm extends one foot outwards.....supported by only one leg.....his mind set on one thing. Relief! It was time for the end. It was time for the final bit of entertainment, that Johnny Storm knew the tabloids would eat up. Multi-billionaire wrestling superstar, Johnny Storm, throws himself from the top of the Waldorf Astoria's Presedential Suite. There was only one thing left for him to do then. Let go.....and allow himself to fall. His heart begins to race knowing that his gumption is starting to build within him. The palms of his hands growing moist with sweat. His eyes wide with the fear of the unknown. Was there life after death. Was there life after superstardome? But most importantly...was there life after wrestling? Eventually the career would be over anyways...and the one faithful, true love of Johnny Storm would abandon him just like everyone else. It was time for that relief. It was time to end everything that this place had placed upon him. Johnny Storm closes his eyes as if it will make the decision to 'let go' any easier.::
Beep~Beep~Beep
::The sudden noise causes Johnny Storm's eyes to shoot open. His footing starting to slip....He feels his grip on the wall tighten. The heel of his foot gives out from in under him, and instead of falling forwards, he falls flat on his back on the terrace from the ledge. He lands with a thud against the cobblestone like tiles, and immediatly reaches for his injured ribs. He sits up slightly...untill the annoying noise sounds once again from his shirt pocket. He reaches down and pulls out the Nokia Digital Phone to answer. His voice is scrachy, and sounds nothing like him when he speaks. He stops for a moment...clearing his throat, and then speaking again, in a more clear prununciation.::
Johnny Storm: Hello...
::The voice on the other end doesn't come through. He hears nothing but a clear connection, and someones breathing. Storm squints his eyes, listening hard for anything other than the soft breaths of another person. Storm opens his mouth to speak, but reverts to silence because of being unsure of what to say. He reckognized this breathing....he had heard it once before. His eyes suddenly come open, and he holds the phone close with both hands as he scrounges up to his knees. That breathing...that was the breathing he heard once against his face...on a pillow in Seattle, Washington. This was the breathing of a woman who had changed his mind set forever. Johnny Storm's heart wells up in his throat as he tries to spit out the few words that had been on his mind in the past hour. He wanted the comfort of her words in return. The best he can muster is.....::
Johnny Storm: Scarlett....
::The breathing ceases for a split second, and storm's heart stops along with it. As the breathing can be heard coming back to him, as does his blood flow. The numbness he felt in his soul not to hear her words calling to him. His mind races as to what he should say to her. What he should come up with to say...in one instant to make her believe that she was his life. Was it possiable to sum up in an instant? And what if that was all Johnny Storm had left? An instant.::
Scarlett Rayne Sengir: I'm.....I'm sorry. I have the wrong number.....
::The words cut deep, because he knows the voice that he had assumed was on the other end of the line to be true. Johnny Storm's mind screams as he opens his mouth to reply.::
Johnny Storm: Scarlett...WAIT!! Don't hang up!!
::Too late. He hears the tone at the other end, and he feels his heart drop back down into his stomach where it had been for so many months now without his friends in the buisness. The rain puddles all around him, and he looks through the stone pillars of the balcony where he had come so very close to ending it. Ending it all. He realizes now that this brief moment had also cost him something else besides countless heart ache. It had cost him his gumption. Storm stands up to get out of the pool that had formed around him. His clothes now soaked, clinging to his body....he makes his way towards the edge of the roof's over hang to get in out of the rain. Storm's eyes move to the ground, where he allows his thoughts to dwindle away. For once he wanted not to think, but just to be. Without the action of thought.::
Beep~Beep~Beep
::Storm automatically snatches up the phone from his pocket, and hits the talk button quickly. He holds the phone up to his ear desperately, and without hesitation says the first thing on his mind.::
Johnny Storm: Scarlett!?!?
Voice: Fraid not guy...it's Steph. Thought I would come by and see how you were doing after your match with Carpenter....considering the events that transpired.
Johnny Storm: oh...ok.
Stephanie Connor: Well hell...don't get all excited to see me or anything. A girl wouldn't know what to do if that were to happen. Sorry to disappoint.....
Johnny Storm: No...No...it's not that. It's just.....I...
Stephanie Connor: Have a lot on your mind. Yes...I know this. That's why I'm coming by to check on you. I'll be up in about five minuetes. See you then.
Johnny Storm: Yeah...see you then.....
::Johnny Storm's voice trails off as he clicks the 'End' button on the Nokia. He glances outwards, allowing his hand to limply fall to his side. The rain falls side ways like....slightly to the side. The clouds formed perfectly around each other to keep the sunlight away from the city streets far down below. A thin smile crosses Storm's face as the dark clouds part for just a moment...to see a glimir of light pass through. A glimir of hope. Maybe that's all he needed...maybe that was what was in store for him. Maybe not. Maybe Johnny Storm was just tired, and needed a longer rest than some people got. Maybe it wasn't the eternal rest that he had been seaking. Maybe he had just gotten to involved in being the best, rather than just allowing it to happen on it's own. Like it always seemed to do for him before. Alot of maybe's, and not nearly enough answers to sway the insecurities of them all. Storm smirks to himself, as he turns his back on the rain pouring outside.....and faces the rain that's pouring in his own life. Perhaps something he needed to do from the very begining.::
AUGUST 29, 2001
NEW YORK, NEW YORK
WALDORF ASTORIA
JUST CASUAL CONVERSATION & A CASUAL KISS: 2:03p.m.
::Stephanie Connor boarded the elevator down in the lobby after turning her own digital phone off. She had just gotten done with a brief conversation with Johnny Storm, and was heading up to his presidential suite now. Her mind wandered at how she ended up where she was. She had been living in New York since Trace had left her, and she even went through her pregnancy here. It was good to be back in town again, to see her daughter......to see some old friends. Now she was here at the Waldorf Astoria, going up to see a man who at one point she thought was the cause of her near fatal end with a bucket of water & a tasor. She had found out a great many things....Johnny Storm was a lot different now than he was then....and when he said he had nothing to do with that besides Alek Cage's involvement...she believed him. She questioned herself on that belief though. Why would she believe him? He was a viper waiting in the tall grass for the right time to strike. Was this her own gulliable actions, or was it possiable he had turned a new leaf in her eyes. She couldn't quite put her finger on it.....but he did help her get into the GWA, and that was enough for her at the time.::
INSIDE THE PRESIDENTIAL SUITE
::Johnny Storm held the gun in his hand.....the Colt Python was heavy & cold as he pushed the bullet within it's chamber. He closed the revolving clip into the barrel of the gun, and placed it on the table out in front of him. He smiled to himself. This was very interesting indeed. The impulse to take that gun, and end his own life suddenly seemed irrelivent. What was so bad about life? He was alive in it.....he was allowed to take up a marginal space in God's creation. He didn't have the worst piece of it either. I mean...he was a superstar, and he had the money to do whatever he wanted to. It's true though....money can't buy you everything. Just mostly everything. Storm smirks at this point, and leans back in the couch. Stephanie would be here soon, and they would probably discuss their upcoming matches at the PPV. Probably discuss a few things that he didn't want to discuss too...but that was just a matter of opinion. Time was running out for both of them, and they both needed to get around to the point behind why they were working together in the first place. Was it buisness or pleasure.....Storm had already forgotten somewhere within the process of it all.
The door bell rings, and Storm stands to an upright position....stepping over to answer the door. As he pulls the lavish opening in the wall, it creaks backwards...revealing a beautiful Stephanie Connor, decked out in a nice pair of stylish pants, and a low cut belly shirt. Storm could just imagine what the bell hop's were saying down stairs when she got on the elevator. Storm opened the door wider, and took a step backwards allowing her access into the room. A silent gesture of "come in" was exchanged through a glance, and Stephanie Connor glided across the floor into the room. Storm closes the door, and locks the dead bolt...turning his attention to the sexy female form before him. She moved across the carpet, kicking her heel's off into the floor beside the couch. She sat down on one end, as Storm entered the room now to watch her. Her feet curled up in under her, leaning against the arm rest, she was most deffinently a sight to be seen. Gorgeous smooth skin, dark brown hair....beautiful eyes. Storm smirks at the entertaining thoughts, and then steps in to become a good host.::
Johnny Storm: Care for a drink Steph?
Stephanie Connor: Sure...why not? What do you suggest?
Johnny Storm: I go for Jack Daniels straight.
Stephanie Connor: Brave man....no wonder you look a mess.....
::Johnny Storm's eyebrows raise, as he turns to look into the mirror off to the side. His mind rushes to the reality that he had been so deep in thought, that he had forgotten to change his clothes before she had arrived. He sure as hell hadn't planned on her seeing him this way. Matter of fact, he wasn't accustomed to anyone seeing him this way. Storm quickly rushes off towards the far bedroom door, a sweet smirk crossing Stephanie's face.::
Stephanie Connor: What happened to that drink Storm?
::Storm's jaw juts out in embarrasement, his nose acheing a little in under that tension. He turns the knob, pushing the door open...and enters the room. He takes off his now semi-dry shirt, and throws it aside...pushing his pants down to reveal his impressive physique. He reaches up, taking the bandages around his chest, and pulling at them to get them off. He stops for a moment....viewing the harsh burnt words into his chest. He shakes his head in a bit of anger, and then rushes over to the dresser to pull out some fresh clothes. HIs face unchanged as he lays the new gauls on the table, caught up in the concentration of dressing the wound created by another guy who actually admitted trying to get a push off of Johnny Storm's name. Storm's thoughts roll on as Stephanie Connor's thoughts are else where.
She watches him through the crack in the doorway. It's not like she wanted too...not like she needed to.....she just couldn't help it. The oppurtunity was there, and it was as if she couldn't turn away. His muscles buldged as he pulled his athletic shorts up and over his boxers. The shorts hugged his firm rear, as she fuond a smile crossing her face. His back muscles stood out nicely, a large bruise along his left rib cage the only flaw on the entire canvas that was Johnny Storm's body. That is untill he turns around. She had not seen it yet....although her thoughts went with him to the hospital the night he had recieved it. His chest mangled, and torn. Flesh so red, and blistered around the letters that spelled out 'Furys Bitch'. She could see it in his face as he applied the cold creme to the opened wounds, that it was still very tender to the touch. She feels suddenly compelled to say something to him, yet why? This man had done viscous things to her...or had someone do them at least. Why the hell would she feel any sympathy for him now? Was it because that was the past.....things between them went from being just buisness, to personal. For gods sake she was curled up on his hotel room couch. What was she doing here with Johnny Storm? The Biggest snake in the grass she had ever known. The one guy you knew better than to trust, yet always seemed to be able to buy into his stories of gold & fame. Stephanie already had fame & gold....so why was it that she was here?
Johnny Storm applies the gauls, and tightens them around his chest & shoulder as he begins to unwind the spindled product. Finally reaching the end...he cuts it with a knife laying over on the table. He uses medical tape to finish up the bandage, and then reaches for a "Black Sabbath" T-shirt, slipping it on, an stepping back out into the room...closing the door behind him. He steps over to the bar, not really looking over to Stephanie....cause he could feel her eyes wash over him from where he was. He pulled two fresh glasses down, and placed them on the bar. He reaches for his bottle of Jack, and then looks over to Steph who still has sympothetic eyes from what she saw in the bedroom. Storm is taken a back for a moment by the stare, and then returns to normal as best he can.::
Johnny Storm: What?
Stephanie Connor: Nothing.....I just was thinking.
Johnny Storm: About...
Stephanie Connor: Good question. I can't even remember...which means it probably wasn't all that important.
::Stephanie uncurls herself, and steps over to the bar, and sits down on the opposite side of storm as he bar tends. He looks up at her more normal facial gestures, and smiles softly.::
Johnny Storm: So what will it be Mrs. Connor?
Stephanie Connor: I think I'll take a Bloody Mary or something of that nature. Think you can handle that?
Johnny Storm: (chuckles a little) Sure....I can handle that. Why such an off the wall drink Steph? Need to unwind?
::Stephanie allows a soft laught, but contemplates her answer.::
Stephanie Connor: It's just symbolic I guess. I mean...replace the girl's name with any of my opponents at this PPV, and you have an exact depiction of what's going to happen to them in that match..
Johnny Storm: So you feel prepaired then?
Stephanie Connor: What do I need to be prepaired for? It's a Valkyrie Title match....a championship I really care nothing about. I've already played the role as the supreme woman of the GWA, it's time now to show what a woman of my stature can do with the rest of the GWA. I want to show my supremecy over the other divisions.
Johnny Storm Fair enough....any ideas on what you are going to want to target?
Stephanie Connor: Probably the Maximus Championship. I'm not quite sure yet. Does it really matter...the way the talent pool has been churning around here, I could probably take any title....(snidely) cept maybe yours.
Johnny Storm: Well technically it isn't mine anymore, you know.
Stephanie Connor: Sure....that belt could be around someone elses waist Storm...but you would still be the champion. At this point in time anyways..
Johnny Storm: At this point in time?
Stephanie Connor: You heard me....at this point in time. Theres only one true champion at this point, and he's not even apart of the promotion anymore. Or if he is...he barely shows his face.
Johnny Storm: Oh my god....not you too? Fucking A!
Stephanie Connor: You know it's true buddy. Chris Damm is the undesputed Gladiator Champion. You never beat him, hell...no one has ever beat him.
Johnny Storm: You know.....I expected that out of someone like Fury or something...but not you. Jesus, this is just perfect.
Stephanie Connor: Well don't go getting offended Storm. You gave him a run for his money like no one else could, but you never came up with the right end of that stick.
Johnny Storm: You know...your right. That's what pisses me off so much about it. Chris Damm was supposed to be here forever. At least as long as I was....just so we could go at it one or two more times. As crazy as it sounds, he's probably my favorite opponents. He's the one who knows how to push my buttons, and I know how to push his. We worked magic together...
Stephanie Connor: That you did....no denying that.
Johnny Storm: But he's gone. Who knows if he'll ever be back or not.
Stephanie Connor: Well as long as he's gone your the only Legend here, except for me of coarse.
Johnny Storm: (with a soft smile) Of coarse. But it would be nice to have some of the old competition back. This new breed just doesn't seem to be able to cut it.
Stephanie Connor: That's because most of them are either star struck, or to ignorant to think about greatness....they just want the titles.
Johnny Storm: Well I wanted the titles Steph...what does that say about me?
Stephanie Connor: People like us want the titles for a different reason. We want them for ourselves, just to prove we can take them at any time we want, and give them away at any time we want. They want them cause they believe that the titles will make them famous. Championships in this buisness mean nothing Storm. When you are the best you don't need that title to spread the word, cause everyone will know that on their own. Everyone despite these smart asses and their promos....knows that you kept the GWA alive in the absence of the Chris Damm's, Stephanie Connor's, and Trace.....
::Steph's voice trails off before she can finish her sentence. His name just came out, not that she meant for it too...just on instinct. She feels the pain in her heart leap up, and snatch at her vocal chords......taking away her ability to speak. Trace VanReardon, the love of her life, was the next name to come...and she couldn't bring herself to say it out loud to another person...let alone Johnny Storm. She looked at him desperately, almost as if tears were going to fill here eyes at any moment at this point on. Storm sets the alcohol down on the counter....and starts around the bar. As he reaches for Steph's shoulder, she places an easy hand on his chest. He squirms in under the pain.....the slightest touch causing the awful burn discomfort. She realizes this by the look on her face, and draws back from sorrow. This in turn allows Storm to touch her shoulder. The comfort of another mans touch had been long forgotten by Stephanie Connor. She felt without Trace VanReardon there was no point to endulge in such a thought. Suddenly over come by an urge, she embraces Johnny Storm's waist......Storm running his fingers through her hair, as she rests her head on his abdomen and lower chest. He carresses her face slightly....catching a salty tear before it has the chance to roll down her cheek. She lets out a loud sniff, drawing the tears back......and bringing her back to her senses in the now silenced room. She allows her grip around Storm's waist to absolve.....and he takes a step back to look her in the eyes. He smiles softly, trying to assure her thins would be ok. Now she suddenly felt stupid. She had allowed this relative stranger to play a part that he did not need to play. A part she had never intended for him to play. Johnny Storm was her buisness partner, not her friend or confidant. Or was he. Storm reaches over the counter, and pulls a box of tissues in front of Steph's smaller frame. She takes one in her hand, and finds herself smiling up to him as if to say, "thank you." In her mind she contemplates as to why she was doing that.....she didn't even want to. How could her body defy her actions so wickedly. Storm returns to the other side of the bar.......caught up a bit himself in his own thoughts about Stephanie. He begins mixing again, as if he isn't sure what to say now. Steph sits in silence....as he pushes her now prepared drink in her direction. She takes a sip...allowing the alcohol to hit her throat. The taste buds now heightened by the surprisingly good taste. She laughts a bit, and Storm is taken off guard by the sudden change. She then sniffs to push back the water in here eyes, and throat...caused by the outburst......and then smiles again.::
Stephanie Connor: It's good....
::Storm smiles slightly at hearing the compliment to his work.::
Johnny Storm: Well thank you Stephanie..
::Her name rolled off his tongue ever so sweetly, and she looks to him in a stunned kind of awe. What was this she was feeling for this other man in her life, that was suddenly feeling the void of something she hadn't know in a long while.....A friend.::
Stephanie Connor: Man...look at me. I have to do better than this. I have a match to focus on....you have a match to focus on. We should be watching tapes, and thinking...not going over the past.
Johnny Storm: Sometimes it's good to go over the past Steph. Sometimes the past is all we have to look at as a blue pring for how we screwed up in the first place...
AUGUST 31st, 2001
TORONTO, CANADA
CROWN PLAZA TORONTO CENTRE
WHERE ARE YOU GOIN'? TO PICK A FIGHT: 1:00 p.m.
::Johnny Storm watches the television in front of him, although the words kind of blare off the back of his brain...and shoot back out his nose. Meaning....he wasn't listening to a damn word that Mel Gibson was saying as William Wallace, in "Braveheart". Storm's tollerance for his own mode of thinking was exceptionally high today. No thoughts of suicide..no thoughts of Scarlett. He was now focused. Focused on what this had been about from the very begining. Since the very first time he stepped foot in a GWA ring, and had his clock cleaned by Chris Damm after an impressive victory over Alek Cage. The Gladiator Championship. It was merely a leather strap in the form of a belt...that held two small pieces of Gold fastened on either side of a large 11lbs piece of gold in the middle. Across the top it stated Gladiator Championship. In the middle, an engraved picture of the world...and a Gladiator resting that world upon his shoulders. At the bottom of that large piece of gold...was the name Johnny Storm. On the two smaller gold plates....are the names of past champions. Chris Damm....Mei Himagaji....Reina Saiaki....Gibson Caine.....Anton Rayge.....and Dark Tiger. Three of those champions mentioned would live on forever in the halls of the GWA Legends. Three of those names mentioned proved their inabilities as champions in the shortness of their title reigns. Three & a half months...nearly four...had passed since Storm had took over the Steam Ship known as the GWA. He had navigated the federation through some icy waters. Dark Times...Bad Times.....he never allowed her to sink, despite the efforts of others. Despite the efforts of others he never allowed himself to sink. He was an undefeated Gladiator Champion. He was still undefeated. Despite what Chris Carpenter may want to say about that match on Insurrection, he did not get the victory. If he did...then please tell us why he is not carrying the gold like he boasted he would be. One thing was for certain that night however....Johnny Storm was not at his best. Not at his best at all. There were rumors in the back that Storm had been sick that night. That Storm had the flu, and was puking before he made his enterance during Stephanie Connor's match..to aid her in a first class stomping of Jonathan Lindsey. Why? Cause Lindsey needed to know his place, which was at the bottom of the GWA food chain. Whether Storm was sick or not was irrelivent to him though. He wanted Chris Carpenter...hell....he requested the match himself. Did he think that Carpenter deserved a shot? Hell no. It was a matter of shutting those chattering teeh of his once and for all. However, theres a deffinent truth that theres a first time for everything, cause for the first time ever Johnny Storm didn't get the job done. Matter of fact...Chris Carpenter did a good job of keeping up with Storm. In the end though...it still didn't matter. Even in a weakened condition, Johnny Storm was able to fend Carpenter off. He pinned him even. However the referee....who may we remind you works for Steven Fury....decided that it was Storm's shoulders that were down on the mat. Thankfully there was a ref standing by who had his eyes checked that week, and he came down to straighten everything out. Yet out of the blue here comes Steven Fury once again on his high horse, waving his mouth around like it was an English flag on the fields of Scotland. In the case of a draw or a double pin...it was Storm's estimation that he retained the title respectively. Same as a count out, or Disqualification. However....Steven Fury bent the rules once again to his favor...stripping both Storm & Carpenter of the belt. It would have been a shock, if it hadn't been so expected. This was Steven Fury after all.....master of the screw job. Not that he's ever needed an introduction for that fact to be known.
In Storm's estimation..the best way for him to understand the logic behind this move..was to try and make him work hard in the Main Event of the PPV this Sunday. As If Storm would have to work hard against the cretans if he were the champion...but since technically he wasn't.....They would actually have a little advantage. Not enough to matter, because quite frankly Johnny Storm was on another level. At another calibur of athelete & Superstar than these men. It's true that Marcus Gaines & Chris Carpenter beat the tag team of the MOV, but men rarely look at how they beat their opponent. It was a fluke. Stephanie sure as hell didn't mean to mace the wrong guy...it just happened that way. That match also didn't prove anything about this match, cause that wasn't Johnny Storm that the two morons were covering for the win. To win a match involving Johnny Storm is one thing. To win a match over Johnny Storm is near impossiable. Unless your two people...or possiably even two on one. Lets face it Ryo & Lindsey...when Jim Daher is your tag partner it's two on one! That wasn't the point either however....the point was...Johnny Storm was starting to come to terms with himself. He was starting to remember that part of him that thrived for the buisness that he has helped to create. He wants now.....to bring that man back to the status he once was. It was time for Johnny Storm to take posession of the ball again, and bring it back to his court.
The door bell rings, but Storm already knows who's behind it. There was no appointment made...there was no one else it could be other than Ross Bobby, GWA reporter and ass backwards man extroidanaire. Storm reaches the door of the luxery suite, and allows it to swing open slightly. Sure enough there he stood..goofy smile and all. Storm starts over to the bar, and gestures for Ross to come in. Ross steps onto the welcome rug down at his feet, and closes the door behind him. He whipes the mud from his shoes considering it was raining outside here as well. He stops to take in the always lavish surroundings of a hotel suite rented by "Mr. Fantastic", and then starts over to the bar where Johnny Storm has fixed them both a drink. Ross eyes the glass for a moment as he begins to set up his camera. Storm had never offered him a drink but a couple of times in his life, and that's when he knew something was amiss. It was time for Ross Bobby to come up with another ingenious question & answer promo with Johnny Storm to indulge the GWA fans with. Storm leans against the bar, and allows the little red light of the camera's 'on' position to wash over him. He then takes the drink in his hand, as Ross brings his carry on mic to his lips.::
Ross Bobby: Hello GWA fans! This is Ross Bobby, and I'm here with the Gladiator Cha......
::Ross cuts himself off, and Storm takes a sip of his drink. His nuckles turning white in under the pressure he is now applying to the glass. The burning substance washes down the back of his throat, and he eases his grip....allowing the glass to come back to the table with a loud smack. Ross decides to start again...perhaps with a bit more tact.::
Ross Bobby: Hello GWA fans! This is Ross Bobby, and I'm here with "Mr. Fantastic" Johnny Storm! And Two Days Away...we have Anguish, only on PPV...call your local cabel company or DirectTV provider right now to see it Live from the Air Canada Centre, in Toronto, Canada! The Main event is a Fatal Fourway Parking Lot Brawl between Johnny Storm, Chris Carpenter, Marcus Gaines, and Dark Tiger. This is set up to be probably one of the most anticipated matches in a long while here in the GWA....now Mr. Storm...everyone's got this on their mind. Anton Rayge. What you did to him was a new level of sick estimated by some people....what do you have to say about that?
Johnny Storm: What do I have to say about that? Quite simple really. If you thought that was sick, then wait till you see this Sunday at the PPV. I plan on taking violence to an all new level, and you might even see me dish out a few surprises along the way. As far as Anton Rayge goes....it was a matter of pay back for our little incident last week. No one is as good at the back stage beating as Johnny Storm is Mr. Rayge...take that to your bank and cash it, cause I don't think you have much credit left at mine. Now I've given this over rated chump to much of my time....it's time to move on to something important.
Ross Bobby: Alright then.....let's talk about you and Stephanie Connor. What is the relationship between the two of you, and why in the hell have you two decided to form an alliance?
Johnny Storm: It was only a matter of time Ross. I mean.....it's kind of sad really that you didn't get it sooner. I am a buisnessman, she's a buisnesswoman...we are both incrediably sexy. It all fits right there. in those few words, it tells the story. Bottom line, we have something to offer each other. What that is for now, will remain a mystery to the outside public. Got that Ross?
Ross Bobby: Whatever you say Johnny. Well I guess theres only one thing left on the weekly agenda, and that's got to be the crushing loss of the Gladiator Title from your posession. I mean......you didn't lose, you didn't win. It was an up & up draw. Both men were declared winners of the match by two different referee's...just for Steven Fury to come out, and say neither of you won it. All I can say is that I didn't understand any of it....and I don't believe the viewers did either.....your thoughts on that night?
Johnny Storm: What needs to be said Ross. I screwed up. Let me be the first to say to Chris Carpenter, Thank you.
::Ross' normal goofy expression drops to one of shock & dismay. Storm smiles sarcastically as he keeps a cool head about him, looking straight into the camera.::
Johnny Storm: Chris Carpenter you opened up a light. You clicked on a switch in Johnny Storm that said, "Hey....you can be beat if you allow this to own you, instead of you owning it." For three & a half months now I've been walking around with that title around my waist, fighting battle after battle...backing down from no one's challenge, and I have went undefeated. It took someone of your ignorance, and pathetic attempts at wrestling to show me how far I have dropped from the spot that I should be. You see...I pride myself on being the best, and the Gladiator Championship is physical proof of that accomplishment. I have been walking in & out of competition like they were back yard chumps here in the GWA. But it wasn't me. It was the title. The title carried me cause I started to depend on being the champion to get me over. Being a man with a belt around here is a very intimidating thing. You can sit back and say 'Bull Shit' if you want to, but you know in your heart it's true. I allowed that title to keep me alive for the past three months, and it took a meesily bastard like you to snap some sense into me. It wasn't the Gladiator Title that made me great. It was Johnny Storm. You didn't do anything in that match to Johnny Storm. You did it to the Gladiator Champion. Bottom line Chris it took that title being taken away from me to realize how tentalizingly Fantastic I really am. So I am here on National Television saying thank you for that match. Don't you worry there pal..cause Johnny Storm is back in full control of his destiny, and my destiny is what it has always been. To hold the Gladiator Championship around my waist. Ross....who did I face in my first match?
::Ross Bobby sits in thought for a moment, and then he shrugs his shoulders::
Ross Bobby: I couldn't tell you.
Johnny Storm: Fair enough...let me ask you something else.....can you name one opponent I faced in the ring untill I faced off against Chris Damm & Sebastian Bock...when Steven Fury was my Tag Partner? Do you remember that?
Ross Bobby: (like a light bulb just went on) Yeah! Damm & Fury both turned on you & Bock, but Mitchell Bleek drug you out of the ring before they could do anything to you! So they took it out on Bock!
Johnny Storm: Answer my question ross. Do you remember anyone?
Ross Bobby: (thinking again) Lets see....hmmmmm....actually..now that you mention it...no.
Johnny Storm: That's right Ross...you don't remember, because up untill the moment I started screwing over the top dogs did I start getting reckognized. I know where these guys are coming from. Chris Carpenter, Shane Stevens, Marcus Gaines, Dark Tiger. I was wrestling in independent promotions when these guys were out playing in the back yard, and most of them are probably older than I am! I have went through more money in one week, than they have had in their entire combined bankrolls at one time! I didn't have to ride anyones coat tails to get to where I was....I went in and smacked them in the face. Shane Steven's thinks that his little cutesy wootsey promos before a match are supposed to scare me? I don't need any kind of gimmic to get myself over....I only need to be myself, and you people will f*cking hate me. I've decided that theres only one reason that Steven Fury has allowed any of you talentless bastards into the ring with me...and that's cause he honestly thinks that you have a chance of taking that strap off of me. Well that's his own dillusions, cause it ain't going to happen.
::Johnny Storm reaches behind the counter, and when he brings his hand back up, he places a colt python on the table. The large hand gun being put in plain view of Ross nearly makes him faint. Storm gives him an assured glance, and then turns back to the camera.::
Johnny Storm: For nearly three months now I have been loading one to three bullets into this hand gun, holding it to my temple...and playing russian roullette, cause I honestly thought that I was alone in this world. All the people that I wanted into this buisness to come after, have abandoned me. Ross....do you remember why I came here. It was about three weeks in after my debut, and I finally released the bomb shell. Go ahead and tell them, cause you conducted those interviews.
Ross Bobby: Oh yeah. You were signed up one week exactly after Chris Damm performed his first match. The very next card after that, you were on a plane to that event to take place in a match with someone. You had shot your mouth off about Chris Damm, and he took exception to that. So he came out to make an example of you. The next week...you came out and tazored him, Alexis, and Steven Fury all in one sitting. Damm was furious, so he came back and broke your nose in the parking lot. You came back with a lead pipe, and jumped him in the parking lot...so on and so on...untill finally Tyler Riggs found it fitting to put you in a Tag Match with Chris Damm against Daher & Doomsday for the Legion Tag Team Titles. This was when the fascade of you being a push over came out. Chris Damm Stole your half of the titles, and tried to run with that...but then you challenged him for them both. In an electrified barbedwire hell in a cell match. It was the most brutal match anyone ever saw. Probably the best fued ever lived out on GWA television, but it was then that you stated your purpose for coming here in the first place. You were here for Chris Damm.....and you were here for the Gladiator Championship.
Johnny Storm: Thank you Ross....that's enough. That's exactly why I came to this federation. For those two reasons. I got one of those reasons twice. Now I want the other one twice too. Matter of fact, I want it this time for good. I've decided to let this little PPV match prove something to the GWA as a hole. I am untouchable, because none of you have the talent to face me. This title will never get in my way again..because I've learned through these lessons that it is I who carry the gold...it's not the gold that carries me. I am the one who controls the GWA....not STEVEN FURY! I am the one..who is going to walk into that parking lot with nothing to lose, but every ounce of gold on that belt to gain. I am willing to do whatever it takes to get my property back, even if it means killing one of you in the process. This is a sanctioned GWA match, and it's been set in a parking lot. There are bound to be some cars....and there are bound to be some weapons. if I get my hands on them....rest assured that I plan on using it to the best of my ability to put you out of the fight for good. I don't need the MOV for this, just like I didn't need the Brotherhood. Hell...who did need the Brotherhood besides Anton Rayge!
This gun here is a symbol. It's a symbol of destruction, death, and war. That is what the outcome of this little match will be. A war. Lots of destruction. And maybe even death, even if it's just death in spirit. I plan on breaking more than just bones gentlemen. I plan on breaking your spirits. The same way my good friends tried to do to me. I've decided in this buisness that if my friends are going to abandon me for other pursuits, then I'm just going to have to make new friends. I swear to god after this match you will either be as viscous as they once were, or you will be broken in under this sport. You guys seem to think this is some sort of game here. You see I got plenty of money....I don't need to do this. I don't have to wrestle cause I'm to stupid to gout out and make myself a fortune. I already have a fortune, and its that very reason that makes me that much more dangerous. I am in this for the hell of it. I love making you guys bleed. I love making Steven Fury have heart attack when he thinks one of his wrestlers is going to be innoperable. I love it when you guys beg for the mercy, that you know I'm never going to show you. I live for this buisness, because I choose too. Not because I have to. I've made myself the success I am....off of sheer lack of fear towards anything. You book the match, I'll wrestle it. You book the opponent, I'll wrestle him. How pathetic is it...that when I was the champion, I was the one makeing challenges to half of you MORONS OUT THERE IN THE BACK! This PPV match is just another stepping stone to ensure my place amongst the legends, and after I win it...Steven Fury...I want a good old fashioned...DOUBLE OR NOTHING MATCH AGAINST CHRIS CARPENTER FOR THE TITLE! Cause I am walking out of this match with the God Damn title, one way or another!
Chris Carpenter......you have the gaul to actually believe that you are put in this match for no other purpose than for me to give you a push, and make you look better. You say you don't need me to get a push or to get over with these fans cause you say screw the fans. I believe that just about as much as I believe you are straight. You run your mouth about not needing Johnny Storm to get over, yet you use my name 78 freakin' times in each promo since you've been back in the GWA! You are nothing without me. I'm tired of being the savior of the GWA. I'm tired of trying to show you worthless wrestlers in the back that I am the best. I am tired of showing you why I am the Champion. It's so clear to me now that if I had just stayed myself in the first place.....all of this would fall into place. You would be back at McDonalds asking the long fated question in your career..." would you like fries with that?" You think you have a prayer, well I don't believe you do. I think that maybe you are going to be caught with your pants down once again with another 14 year old. Don't think I haven't found about that bucko.....all you Canadians need someone warm to snuggle up beside. Kind of like Steven Fury. How old is MJ now pal? Is she able to driver herself, and buy her own alcohol yet....or is that what your for. Awwwww now go change your diapers MJ, it was just a joke. Chris Carpenter, there's one thing deffinently that needs to be said about you....you don't know when to shut up. Your ability to bull shit is like none other.....and I plan on making sure one day that you will not be able to open your mouth. Kind of like I did Anton Rayge on Wendsday Night. Just think about it kid.....do you have what it takes to stand in the ring with me once again, knowing what I'm capable of. Let alone in a parking lot match? Consider this your test....consider this my question & answer to you Chris. You've said all along you should lead the GWA....FUCK YOU CHRIS! Lead them. I never wanted to in the first place. You are coming onto national television asking Steven Fury for the Gladiator Championship, knowing that that is the only way you are going to touch it. I have on guarantee, and that you are not going to walk out of this match a champion...even if it means I don't either! That is enough about you Chris Carpenter, cause I can't think of anything else that matters to say!
Dark Tiger.....haven't we been here before? Wasn't it you that I threw myself off of the side of the rafters with in the Fantasticator? Wasn't it I who crawled through steel mesh, and splintered wood of what used to be a ring just to cover you? Wasn't it I that walked through the curtain, and did exactly what I said I was going to do? I took that Gladiator Title from around your waist once before, and I am going to state that you will not be getting it back soon. Matter of fact, you don't deserve this shot in the ring! You beat Sledge Hammer...so what?! I've climbed these hurdles so many times that I don't really know why I'm surprised. Dark Tiger, you are just another one of the countless names that try and get over by the use of words. I don't need these interviews to prove a God Damn thing! I know exactly who I am, and what I am capable of doing! I don't need words like you do. You use them to cover up the fact that you have no talent. You had never wrestled anyone like me before, and you have yet to wrestle anyone like me again. It's time for you to realize....that you and I are no where near alike. We are so different, that as wrestlers that is almost scary. I can relate to just about everyone except for you Dark Tiger, cause I don't know why your here in the first place! You say that I was keeping the Gladiator Title warm for your return to the ring. You idiot...I beat you, not the other way around. What makes you believe that this will be any different? What makes you think that I am going to just bow down to the greatness, that you have yet to show me. You've done nothing but run your mouth Dark Tiger. You've won a title that I went undefeated as, and you have set your eyes on an unattainable goal. The Gladiator Championship is not yours to take, it is mine. I beat you for it, and in that one action caused you to lose all rights to it. I have carried the mantle of the GWA ever since you defected, and quit....BECAUSE I HAD BEATEN YOU! You were afraid of me. You showed that fear by tucking your striped tale between your legs, and running! You know...it's a sad state of denial, when you come out and make an utter fool of yourself on national television. You don't even belong in this match, let alone near the title. You haven't done anything to gain our respect, besides bleed by my hands. I broke Dark Tiger, and just like last time...I'm going to break you again. I can guarantee that you will not walk out of this match the Gladiator Champion. This is not your night, and as long as I'm in the GWA....neither will any of the others. To bad for you kid!
Marcus Gaines....
::Johnny Storm smiles for a moment with his eyes to the glass in his hand. He takes a sip, and then reverts his attention back to the camera.::
Marcus Gaines I commend you. It was fun wasn't it? You never pinned Johnny Storm in a match...never have you beaten me one on one..yet you probably don't see that as a matter of importance. Your right about certain events though. I've been beaten....I've been trampled....I've been branded. I've even been beaten before. Just like you have. The other two I'm not going to worry about giving respect, because they haven't done a thing to prove they deserve it. But you have something that I can see....and it's me. You have come back from defeat's door, and you plan on making the most of this endeavor of greatness. Marcus, on Sunday we step into the lime light of another GWA arena....and we battle in front of another GWA crowd. I've forgotten what that was like, because I haven't had a true battle in some time. I won't find it with Dark Tiger, and I know I can't ever find it with Chris Carpenter....but you. You have so much potential walking into a match like this, and that actually causes me to give you respect. Fear is not an option when you decide that professional wrestling is the sport you want to enter into. Where you may have had it before, I can see now that you have made your attempts at salvaging what will be a good career. I think my misconception came in thinking that I needed that Gladiator Title to become what I wanted....and that being a Legend.
::Storm smiles now...almost casual in his speach, not really using the forceful metaphors he had for Carpenter & Dark Tiger. No need to really...because Marcus Gaines didn't warrant them.::
The Gladiator Championship was something that I wanted Marcus...it was something that I needed! Back then I didn't need to prove it to anyone but myself. I didn't care about what these fans wanted, I didn't care about what Steven Fury wanted...I didn't care about what anyone wanted. I was only concerned with two things...facing Chris Damm, and becoming the Gladiator Champion. When I was taken out of this sport in September of the year 2000, I was in the prime of my life. When I came back in march, I was a completely different person. I wasn't my usual self. I looked around the federation that I helped put on the map by simply facing Chris Damm & Steven Fury....and saw that it had changed. There was no more Chris Damm, Steven Fury was the undesputed President of the GWA, there was no more Sebastian Bock..the Circle had disappeared, and the only person left was Reina Saiaki. She of coarse didn't stay long either. She retired as soon as our match had taken place. New superstars had erected themselves into the spotlight of the GWA, and it truely made me sick. Guys weren't even having to pay their dues, and they automatically were given chances to rule the shows week in & week out. Thats when I lost track of everything Marcus...that's when I lost track of what this sport is all about. I allowed that stunning change to influence the reasons behind me winning the Gladiator Championship. I suddenly needed to be at the top, just to keep the GWA propelling through the darkened waters we were chartering through. I was out there for the title not because of me...but because of the fans, because of the wrestlers, and because of Steven Fury! I was never handed anything...but they might as well have because they made it so god damn easy to take.
So here I am again Marcus. I never seem to quit. I never seem to let up. The pressure is always on you, and everyone else around you. Chris Carpenter & Dark Tiger are but added fuel, to match that is brewing between the two of us. One of us two will walk out the Gladiator Champion. I'm not going to say that I've got this all wrapped up, because maybe I don't. Maybe Johnny Storm has had his time in the light, but the point is kid.....I don't need that light to guide my ship anymore. I will sail my own vessel, and I will win on my own accord. Sometimes winning isn't everything in these matches. Sometimes feeling the blood, sweat, and tears of another man's tension wash over you can be just as gratifying as if they had handed me the belt & the victory. I'm through carrying the GWA...and headlining the matches cause it's the popular decision. I'm through making Steven Fury's money, and I'm through trying to act as your saviors. It doesn't get any more personal than it does right now. You want that championship for one reason, I want it for another. This is going to be something you never saw coming...because even if you win Marcus, so do I. This will not be as easy as you have tried to think up in your mind that it will be. This is not going to be easy period. I don't need any of this anymore, and am willing to give it all up just for one more death defying fight. I don't need the Championship, or the epic battles to make myself a legend. I've realized that I already am.
One solid year has passed, and I'm into about three months of a new era. I've lost a step over that time, and I'm not so sure I could still do what I used to do in a GWA ring...the way I did it back then. It's high time we find out Marcus. This is our time to shine kid. This is yours and mine. We are going into this match, and I make only a few guarantees. I may not be the victor at the end, but you will respect me. Deep down in your heart you will always feel my tension bearing down on you. Just a word of advice though Marcus...if you do win....don't let that championship decide your destiny. Keep a firm grip on your own reality, and mold it into what you want it to be. You made the statement that it was my job to teach you what a Gladiator Champion is all about....well basically....that time has passed. I'm through teaching you guys, and carrying your minds over the thresh hold of greatness. My name will live in the history books forever, because I've earned that spot. Marcus...even after you believe you've gotten what you wanted....even if you get the chance to hold that title up above your head.....it doesn't mean that you are a legend. It just means that you are like the three champions I mentioned early on in this interview....Dark Tiger...Anton Rayge....Gibson Caine.....you are merely holding it....for someone else to come in and take it. Disheartening I know Marcus...but true non the less. I'm sorry to burst that bubble in your face....but I'm not afraid Marcus. I've been in this spot before. It's just another Main Event, and another battle for a title. I've already proven my worth, and now it's time for you to prove yours. I wish you luck kid, cause come Sunday......this gets more personal than it ever has. I'm well enough off that I can afford a loss, but looking at your career....I don't think you really can. Theres a reason why I'm the Lord of the dance kid, and I'm not talking that River Shit neither.
::Storm stops talking for a moment, and he sips at his drink. Ross thinking everything over, begins to pack his belongings away. Things were deffinently starting to get wierd, and the intinsity that Johnny Storm usually had after an interview was no where in sight. He was cool, calm, and collected. Something that was good for him, but probably very bad for everyone else. As Ross reaches over to turn the camera off, Storm suddenly jumps into action grabbing him by the wrist, and then looking into the camera with a sarcastic smile. His blue eyes washing over the lens, sincereness echoing with in their malignant stare.::
Johnny Storm: By the way Marcus....I don't have to win the match, to leave you how I've left everyone else...
Face Down
Ass Up
In A Pool Of Your Own F*cking Blood!!
::Storm allows Ross' hand to be released, and he turns the camera off himself. He sits down on the stool behind him, and looks over at Ross. He smiles softly, and then takes another long sip of his drink.::
Johnny Storm: What do you think Ross?
::Ross Bobby looks up now very interested not really in the question, but the man asking it. Johnny Storm had never offered to ask him a question before. This was something unusual..unusual indeed, and deserved the attention of such an event.::
Ross Bobby: About what?
Johnny Storm: What just happened here....what are your thoughts?
Ross Bobby: I don't know....it sounded like you were calmer than normal. Like you knew exactly what was going to happen this Sunday. Like win or lose, you wouldn't fret or lose yourself in it like you have in the past. It sounded like the guy I interviewed one year ago when he was going up against the top names, and wasn't quite there yet himself.
::Johnny Storm smirks to himself, and then takes the Jack Daniel's bottle in his hand and pours himself some more. He sips the brownish liquid, and places the glass on the bar. He looks to Ross, who sits back staring towards him.::
Johnny Storm: Yeah. I know.
::With that Johnny Storm reaches over, takes the camera off its stand, and hands it over to Ross Bobby. Ross places the camera in his bag, along with the stand. He then gets up off his stool, and starts towards the door. His thoughts on the interview, and the question & answer that took place afterwards. He exits the room, and Storm grins now that he's gone. This match was set in stone, and it was time for just one more bout with a bull shit setting of any thing other than what it was. A personal endeavour by four different men for their own personal gain. Johnny Storm knew all about personal gain....and it was time to teach the underlings why this wasn't about the Gladiator Title anymore....but about himself.::
::She didn't know what upset her more...the fact that he was right, or the fact that it was him telling her this. She rubs her hand over her eyes tiredly, allowing her hair to fall out of place for the first time in the night. Storm smiles slightly at her elegance, even in a moment of weakeness. Steph looks back to Storm now..the first time she had been able to without looking away, and he simply smiles the same way he had been. It was driving her nuts. She wasn't sure whether she hated it...or she liked it.::
Stephanie Connor: I'm glad I'm back you know. I needed to take some frustration out on something...and three other women in a wrestling ring should do. Scarlett Rayne Sengir...hmph. I hope you don't harbor me any ill will for beating her into submission?
::Johnny Storm almost squirms in under that name, and she see's it. She wasn't the only one here with a weakness. That made her feel a little better oddly enough, although something else swelled within her as well.::
Stephanie Connor: So that's the Scarlett you mentioned earlier on the phone. Pray tale....what is the matter Storm...your turning all shades of pink.
::Johnny Storm takes the straight shot of jack, and drives it backwards into his mouth. It moves quickly down his throat, almost so fast that he doesn't feel the burn. He then looks to Stephanie...::
Johnny Storm: That's nothing. Do what you have to do....I've just got some problems with her brother, that's all.
Stephanie Connor: Mmhmm. Well that's good to hear. I'm going to enjoy kicking her teeth down her throat. She seems kind of like the stupid flighty kind. Perhaps thats exactly what I need to prove my dominance here in the sport. To just beat her, Mei, and who was that now.....oh well, it will come to me. Maybe I just need to drop them like bad habits...and wait for the rest of the world to catch up. What do you think Storm? Knocking the little B!itch out of the fight should prove interesting shouldn't it?
Johnny Storm: Sure...yeah. Whatever.
::Stephanie smirks now, allowing her bottom lip to curve into a smile. Finally she felt like she was back in control of this conversation. It was about time. Now Johnny Storm could squirm for a change.::
Stephanie Connor: Yeah...I believe that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to step into that ring, take the Valkyrie Title...and then use it to level out my coffee table. If nothing else this is a good warm up to start with. Scarlett Sengir should prove to be a nice little test of what is to come. Leaving her laying in a pool of her own blood will do nicely to improve her looks & her image. Maybe after I'm done kicking the shit out of her, I'll mace her....maybe...here's an idea...maybe I'll tasor her.
::Storm squirms again, but continues to keep his focus away from the conversation. Stephanie finally decides that enough is enough, and decides to turn her attention to another subject.::
Stephanie Connor: You know....Mei Himagaji is going to be in this match as well. She was a long running Gladiator Champion as well...just like you. I might like making an example of her as well. I'm not sure who I'll enjoy pinning more. Mei will be just another test on my road to greener pastures. This is such a joke. By all rights I should be facing Lost Worlds for the Maximus Title...not Chris Cane. I should do something special for that match as well. I think this will be Stephanie Connors night Storm. Matter of fact I can feel it. I can feel it rushing through me. The excitement of finally getting back in that ring, and taking someone to the physical limit of their own pain. There is no other feeling in the world like it. Wouldn't you agree?
::Storm nods his head, seemingly still not back from the dream state she had put him in upon the mentioning of the name...Scarlett Rayne Sengir. What was so special about her? Why was his mind on her when he had "Ice Cold" Stephanie Connor sitting right here before him? Why in the hell did she care so much? Stephanie shakes her head to try and clear these questions from her mind, and for the first time he notices something Steph's eyes. Perhaps his reactions to Scarlett's name being brought up, was triggering a jealous sreak in Stephanie. But why would Stephanie be jealous unless there was something forming here between them to be jealous of.::
Johnny Storm: um..I know we're supposed to be discussing the matches...but..um..would you like to go watch some TV?
::Stephanie looks oddly at Storm, and she opens her mouth to remind him that this was just buisness...but instead what comes out shocks even her.::
Stephanie Connor: Sure...
::Stephanie's mouth shoots closed, and her eyes grow wide as she realizes what just came out of her mouth. Storm starts from around the bar to the living room, and she stands still stunned at herself for her quickness to hop on a couch with a one time enemy. Storm sits down and reaches for the remote, turning the power on. Suddenly "Can't Hardly Wait" is upon the screan, and Stephanie finds herself sitting down beside Storm watching the screan. Their eyes every once in a while drift over to each other, but the strangeness of the moment almost seems to much as to try and carry a conversation. Storm stays on his end of the couch, and Stephanie on hers. Neither of them appearing to budge......Suddenly Storm hops up, and starts into the kitchen......and Steph almost jumps as if startled by the sudden movement. Storm however pays it no attention, and a few banging sounds ensue from the kitchen. Storm watches the doorway leading into the tiled room warily, and in interest. She leans forward as if to peer into the open door, but as Storm appears back in the door way she quickly turns back to the movie. Storm steps in front of her again, and sits down this time in the middle of the couch...in a closer position. Her heart begins to race as Storm reaches over shyly with some sort of object. She felt like a school girl, and this was feeling very stupid to her by this time. She was a grown woman for christ's sake. He was a grown man. There was nothing wrong with the two of them watching a movie together. There was nothing wrong with him, if he wanted to touch a beautiful ladies knee. She should feel very comfortable with the situation....however, she wasn't. Was it cause she was starting to like him, or because she missed Trace so much. Was he advancing cause he didn't have anyone in his life, or because he was truely atttracted to her. Steph is taken completely off guard by the object that has now reached her upper thigh. She moves suddenly, and quickly...jumping up off the couch causing the pop corn bown that Johnny Storm was trying to offer her to fly up into the air. The room begins to rain white kernals as Storm looks at Steph a little shocked, and now pushed all the way on his side of the couch again. Stephanie looks down at Storm...then to the bowl that is overturned in the floor. She then looks all around her, and at the pop corn that has been scattered everywhere. The only thing she could think to do next...was laugh. She begins to laugh loudly now.....holding her bare stomach, and allowing everything to come out of her in a wave. Storm smiles softly at this display, and then begins to laugh himself. The two laugh on for long moments....and Stephanie slowly begins to try and regain her composure.::
Stephanie Connor: Sorry about that...a....a bit jumpy.
::The two begin laughing once again, now louder and harder than ever. Stephanie is forced to sit down....both of them find this embarasseing situation hillarious. Storm finally tries to calm down, as does Stephanie. The both of them continue to chuckle as Storm reaches down for the pop corn bowl. It is obvious that the two of them had the same Idea to clean up, because Stephanie reaches over to pick up the bowl as well...causing their heads to but together. Storm & Stephanie both fall into the floor onto their knees, and begin laughing loudly. He holds his head, and she clutches at hers. The two of them sit there and laugh untill the point that they begin to try and look in each others directions. The laughter ceases, as Storm follows her sweet smile with his eyes. She feels his attraction, and the fact that she felt it as well frightened her. Storm reaches up touching Stephanie's face slight, and no matter how hard she tries....she can't seem to get her motor functions to pull away from his gentle touch. She want's to say something, but before she can....His lips are already stifleing her. She allows a small high pitched sound be released, but it doesn't help the situation as her eyes close along with his. She feels herself being laid down on the floor where they had been positioned.....his body pushing ontop of hers. He was warm....she had forgotten that lovely feeling. She feels himself press his hips to hers, her eyes fluttering in under the heat of the moment. Their tongues playing along with each others...her lip dancing along the line of his. She feels as he reaches down to pull her legs up around him, and the sudden terror floods back to her...and she remembers exactly why this was wrong. She pulls hard with her face away from his...it taking nearly every ounce of will power she has to do so. She then allows one word to escape her increased breath of passion.::
Stephanie Connor: Stop...
::Storm's eyes open...and he allows his hand to drop down to the floor where he now hovers over her body. Stephanie turns her face away from his, so she doesn't have to see his beckoning eyes. He suddenly shakes his head in the no position as if running her words through his mind.....and as quckly as he had found his way ontop of her, he found his way off. Walking all the way out onto the balcony, breathing very hard, and gripping the stone guard that was erected all around the terrace. Stephanie pulled herself up onto the couch, and adjusted her shirt...and her bra in underneath it where it had become uncomfortably fondled. She watches the outline of Storm out on the balcony, and she stands to her feet. She knew that she had to say something, but what could she say. She felt the attraction for him...but she knew if she were to ever get her love back with Trace, that she could not give in to such a thing. Storm out on the balcony knew this in his heart as well......that Scarlett wouldn't ever forgive him if this were to transpire. Of coarse what did he care. Who the hell did Scarlett think she was interrupting his thoughts in such a way. Stephanie makes her way out onto the balcony, and opens her mouth with a gentle voice behind it.::
Stephanie Connor: I'm sorry....
::Storm's head shoots up from looking to the streets below, to look out over the city scape of New York. His anger wasn't towards Stephanie Connor, but at himself for letting himself feel this way. He turns back around, and look at her with a sarcastic smile erected to hid his pain.::
Johnny Storm: Water under the bridge. Maybe it's best we got all that out of the way now eh?
Stephanie Connor: (as if thinking) Yeah...
Johnny Storm: Well...I'll see you in Toronto then?
Stephanie Connor: Um...oh...Yeah.
::Stephanie turns, and starts back within the suite....stopping off to slip her high heel's back on, before she heads out the door. Storm steps into the sliding glass door, and watches her as she leaves. When she reaches the door, she turns to say something to him....but Storm simply nods.::
Johnny Storm: Good luck on Sunday Steph....
Stephanie Connor: Yeah Johnny....You too.
::With that she exits, and makes her way down the hallway to get back to her daughter. The Daughter she had with Trace. Storm stands in the door way for a few more moments in contemplation of what just happend.......and then himself steps into the room, and plops down on the couch. Turning his attention to a movie rather than his own f*cked up life.::
**Frozen. Inside I am frozen. Like a candle in the wind I am forced to burn at both ends. Just to survive one more night as the best. But I can not whither. I can not die. I am the immortal given flesh. I am the absolute key, to your eternal question. I am your absolute reckoning. I am your friend. I am your enemy. I am your invisiable line. The one you cross when you are at your wits end. I am the begining to all things. I am the end only to you. I am burning inside with a desire. Your desire burns the seat of my pants. I need all things explained. I explain all things to you. Everything you ever needed to know. All answers that were hidden deep inside. I am your vessel. An object of sturdy mass. A splitting piece of wood. Splinter embedded within your skin. Blood pouring down your face. The rag that whipes you clean. The water that renses your soul. The final product given life. The one that revises what kind of product you will be. I confuse you. I make you understand. You give me your problems. I give you my advice. I carry you on my back. One more mile I trek. The eyes of the many are on me. The eyes of the few are on you. Those eyes are one and the same. They are different in every way. Your weight is dragging me down. My strength is holding me up. My tears are in vain. You will feel everything done to you by me. If I could melt your heart what would I find. My heart has been torn apart from inside. You haunt my dreams. I haunt your dreams. I can hear you scratching at my door. I can hear myself as I hit the floor. You see only what you want to see. I see what is really there. My heart is open like a book. Yours is closed and pad locked. I am the wall in your path. You are the shit that I leave behind. I walk through you easily. You want to forget me completely. I am your future. You are my memory. I give myself to you. You take so selfishly. I carry the eternal flame. You carry this constant blame. You wish that you could be better than you are. I wish you could simply see. My endeavors. Your gain. My sacrifices. Your lack of acknowledgement. My Suffering. Your pleasure. My love. Given to another. My Hate. Directed towards you. I put on a show. You reflect it as your reality. You seem to forget where you come from. I know exactly where it is I've been. When I look in the mirror I see myself. When you look in the mirror you see me. You have made yourself a figment of your own imaginations. I have made myself my own reality. You want to be the leader, yet look to me for leadership. I have something you want to take. You have nothing that I need. I have everything that you love. You have everything that I hate. I want to taste your blood. You want to taste my gold. I want to sear your flesh. Like you've done mine before. I know where you are. The inner most secrets you have tried to hide. The place where I reside. Fear swells within you. Rage swells within me. Smelling it on the tip of your tongue. Watching as you leave me there to be hung. You are here as my test. I am here as a reminder of your failure. You couldn't stop me before. I can't stop myself now. You are a deer caught in the headlights of a Dodge. I am the Dodge blowing my horn in the dead of night. You have run out of time to get out of my way. I have run out of excuses for taking it easy on you. This path that you've chosen is short. The path that I've chosen is long. The path that we are both on is much to narrow. One of us will certainly have to be pushed off. I am a sturdy oak tree, standing tall and majestic. You are a thin leaf pine, swaying within the wind. You don't know where you began to fall. I don't know where I began to begin. You like to think you are the best. I know that I am the best. You wish that you could prove me wrong. It only fuels me to prove me right. Sunday millions pray to God. Sunday you will know defeat.
Burning. I am burning inside. I am losing all control over myself. You are losing all control over me. I am feeling better than ever. You are feeling kind of weak. I know who I am in this world. You know of what I speak. You want only what's best for you. I want only to be the best for me. I know what fuels me to continue. You know what fuels your constant conflict. You want to know when this struggle will end. I am begging for this struggle to begin. You feed off of me, wanting to be me. I feed off of you wanting to be me. I have the solution to your desires. You have the desires that require my solution. There can only be one. You want that to be you. But It is already me. This won't end till you are letting go. This won't end as long as I'm still holding on. I am like a prescription drug. You are merely over the counter. I am like a diamond. You are a lump of coal. I am like a brick of gold. You are like some nasty mold. I am like a stud in my prime. You are like a jack ass who is lacking pride. I am like a perfect weapon. You are a back firing disgrace. I am like a Coca Cola Classic. You are like a Sam's Choice drink. I am like a Firrarri. You are like a Ford Pinto. I am like a four coarse meal. You are like a kids meal at McDonalds. I am like a Rolex Watch. You are like a Timex Watch. I am like a Silver Dollar. You are like a Dime. I am like a bucket of Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream. You are like a pint of the Generic. I am like choclate milk. You are like the powdered kind. I am like a 747 Passenger Jet. You are like a Crop Duster Plane. I am like a constant reminder that you are not good enough. You are a constant reminder of why I am. I am like a Block Buster Film. You are like a film made in the back yard. I am like a Hero Sandwhich. You are like half a sandwhich made on moldy bread. I am like a piece of Bubblicous Bubble Gum. You are like the rock hard kind you find in Baseball Card Packs. I am like a refreshing drizzle. You are like an annoying rain. I am better than you. You are in denial of me. It doesn't matter how you wish you could change cause you won't. It doesn't matter how much you change, it won't change me. No matter where you go I am always with you. No matter where I go you are always forgotten. I am the ending to this story. You are merely a part thought up along the way. You are the mistakes seen after an over paid paint job. I am the touch up used to make you look better. You are the ones who are clawing for solid ground. I am the waves that knock you back into deeper water. You are trying your best to stay above surface. I am trying my best to get you to drown. You are the one kicking hard just to tread. I am the undertow keeping you down. You are realizing now that you can't beat me. I am realizing now that I knew this all along. You are wishing there was a way out of this. I am wishing to close the door, trapping you forever. You are wanting this fear to subside. I am wanting that fear to move up your spine. You are contemplating on crying. I am contemplating on making you feel like your dieing. You are lost within yourself. I can see through you like most everyone else. You think now that this was a mistake. I know now that you are a complete disgrace. I am your everything. I am your nothing. I am your champion. I am the one you must try & defeat. But you can not. You will not. And when we stand out on the painted desert of red. Blood pouring down our faces. I will still be your champion. And you will still be my bitches.**
1
NEW YORK, NEW YORK
WALDORF ASTORIA HOTEL
THE END: 1:00 p.m.
::Johnny Storm enters through the elaborately decorated doors of the Waldorf Astoria's presidential suite. His duffle bag tucked in under his arm...his key down at his side. He uses the heel of his foot to close the door, gently causing the latch to catch. Locking it automatically. He sets his duffle bag down on the stand next to the door, and takes a few strides forward before coming to the wet bar on the right. He allows the keys to fall from his hand....limply rattling against the hard wood finish of the old building. Storm's eyes move to the large plate glass that moves across the entire side of one wall. A patio like balcony out on the terrace, with an umbrella covered table. It's raining now, water pouring out the drainage areas down a long metal pipe that moves down 45 other floors.....pouring out into a sewer drain in the street. Storm slowly makes his way to the window, looking out into the midst of the cold gloomy sky. The room was silent. Almost scary for someone in Johnny Storm's profession to find himself in silence. It had been to long since he was by himself to think. But what was there to think about.
His lost money? The fact that it had been almost 6 months since his money had went missing.....and yet no one has been able to locate it. Perhaps he could think about his lost friends? The people who made this sport worth his time. The ones who pushed him to the limit like no one else could. Not just physically....but mentally. They actually made you feel like you were alive, by putting you through the same pain and suffering you plan to put them through. The ones that would always pay you attention as long as you fed them the same amount that they paid you. Maybe he could even think about his lost love? Scarlett Rayne Sengir had cut his heart out, and left him there to die. His feelings for her were unable to continue...for lack of will to continue his own life. Maybe he could think about the loss of his Gladiator Championship. In four months he had not been apart from the title....and yet for the first time since his winning it......it was not in his bag. It was not non-chalantly thrown across his shoulder during a promo. It was in the possession of Steven Fury....and that was enough to make anyone go nuts.
Johnny Storm had realized two things this week. The fact that he was tired of losing his posessions. And the fact that he missed the companionship that he once had....when Chris Damm broke his nose. His hand raises up to his now broken nose....at the hands of Anton Rayge. It was the same break, but not for the same reason. It wasn't because Anton really wanted to prove something...it was because Anton was proving what Johnny Storm had said about him all along. That wasn't Anton Rayge conducting that attack...it was Johnny Storm all along. Anton was nothing but a puppet who had been held up by the strings, and danced with. He was nothing but a mere shell of what he could have been....but now without Johnny Storm there to hold him up, it would only be a matter of time before he sunk deeper into the abyss of nothingness. Cause that word explained Anton Rayge best......'Nothing'.
Johnny Storm had waisted his life on pain and regret, and on how much he could possiably get out of a situation. Whether it be bad or good. He had prided himself on walking through competition....and being able to thwart off most threats. Everyone has their fall from time to time...but for some reason this was beyond just a normal fall. This was like losing apart of yourself, and knowing you can't ever get it back. Almost like your virginity. Once taken, once used.....you can never use it again. You are never pure again...and no amount of praying will help you get it back. It's gone forever as soon as you take the time to spend it. Was it possiable the same rule applied to talent. Wrestling Talent....Entertaining Talent.....the Talent to paint...the Talent to breathe. Was it possiable these things could be waisted....and after they are used up, they never come back. Or do they simply need time to regenerate. Do they need time to heal like say...a Broken nose....or a borken rib. Or was it like cutting something out of you......or off of you for that matter. LIke a severed finger?
Storm smirks..he hadn't felt that good in a while. That was getting personal. Anton Rayge & He were doing something that everyone else had seemed to forgotten about. They were taking the depths of entertainment, and playing it on their own field. They were doing what they wanted to do. Or at least Storm was. Anton Rayge was after all just a shadow that could be left behind at any time. Speaking of shadows...where was his. Following him...lurking behind him. He remembered what it was like to be in the shadows. To be pushed beind someone who didn't have half the talent.....or half the draw....or half the charisma that he had with those people. Snatchman....Terry Kenshin.....Jacob Stryker....names that Storm remembers, but to the newer guys in the dressing room....they are nothing but forgotten memories. Whispers in the wind that no one bothers to hear anymore.
Is that what was awaiting Storm? Is that what was bothering him so much here lately. Becoming one of those names that are so easily forgotten. No one would ever think that of him now...cause Johnny Storm is a house hold name...but when you come to think of it; Back then so were they. The night before Insurrection Stephanie Connor & he had a nice talk about such events. Was it possiable that the two of them were apart of dieing breed. The last ones in a long line of fallen Main Eventers. Chris Damm had fallen after all. From his sanity...from his girlfriend Alexis....from the world as we know it. Steven Fury had fallen from the ring, and although he had a nice coushy job behind a desk......it seemed like that was where he wanted to be. Power can be a confusing tool sometimes. It can either prove to be helpful to you, or it can be used to dig your grave that much deeper. In Steven Fury's case......You would have to believe it's made him vulnerable. How would he handle life without that seat in the high chair. Storm's estimation.....not very well.
Johnny Storm had forgotten who he was a long time ago. He had always been rich, but never much cared. He never had to worry about money, because he had others worrying about making him more. The more he makes, the less involved he has to be with his own transactions. Johnny Storm now a days wasn't involved at all. So that could tell someone how much he is honestly worth in dollar & market value. But how much was he worth to himself? That was the question that continued to move through his mind. All the mistakes he has made over the years of his existance, that haven't even been to extensive. He was 25 years old, and he was a multi-billionaire......multiple time Heavy Weight Champion in a number of feds......and he was at the top of his given profession. Yet why was there this feeling of loss. Where did it all go...and if he were ever to be dropped back to the bottom of the GWA food chain, would he be strong enough to pull himself back up to that spot at the top. Perhaps it was time for Johnny Storm to end it. To fall in line with all the rest of the legends that had graced a GWA ring.
His memories wander to past events. Some where he had won. Some where he had lost. He is drawn to the match that started him on this obsession with the Gladiator Title. Adrenaline Eruption. It was an ungodly match...set inside a Hell In a Cell. Three rings right across from each other, and a tunnel leading out of the cell. The first to get out of the cell, and climb up the stair ways of the Roman Colloseum...and get his hands on the Gladiator Championship....would be the undesputed victor. Two men came out of that cage by the end of the night. One being Johnny Storm. The other being his nemesis Chris Damm. It was more than just an epic battle. It was two people who loved each other as much as they hated. They were best friends......and they didn't hang out together. They didn't stay up late on the phone talking, and sharing stories. Every thing they shared was there on the battle field. The blood...the sweat....Storm's fractured Cheek Bone....Damm's broken Arm. Out there within the midst of all those people....within the heart of two lions on a field for territory & supremecy...those two men turned a war into an art form. Something that will never be seen again inside a GWA ring. The saddest part of the entire tale....is the two men never got the chance to do it again......
His memories wash over him like a gentle breeze....unlike the storm that began to rage outside the Waldorf Astoria. His return in march wasn't supposed to be like this. Reina Saiaki....Mei Himagaji.....Chris Damm. This was the chance of a life time. A gathering of the GWA legends into one match. Chris Damm however never made it to the dance. Mei Himagaji was in a fued with Reina Saiaki.....and Johnny Storm was thrown right in the middle of it all. The true battle wasn't between Storm & Mei however. It wasn't between Saiaki & Himagaji. It was Johnny Storm & Reina Saiaki who went at it tooth and nail. The two had wanted each other so bad, and in the end it came down to the two of them to decide it. Blood pumped from a gash over top of Reina's left eye from a well placed punch. Storm's eye was puffing out due to a swift martial arts type kick by Reina. The ending would change Storm's life forever. That was the moment he felt alone. The loss at the hands of Reina Saiaki was not what threw him off balance. It was the words that came after her gracious win, that shocked him into this state of unassurity. She quit. She dropped the championship right there on the mat, and walked away from this buisness.....away from Storm. The same way Chris Damm had done. The same way Trace VanReardon had done. The shock that Storm was the only one left..has brought us back to the here and now.
Johnny Storm's eyes push out through the sea of people. The water beading down the back of his shirt, while tickling the hairs on the back of his neck as it rolls down his skin. His muscles tense up for a moment in under the freezing rain......but relax soon enough as he comes to the edge....where he now looks down at the antsize world below him. Life was not valued at what it used to be. He had been abandoned. Since his very begining he had been abandoned. HIs mother and father died in a plane crash when he was 5 years old, leaving him an estate....leaving him with an abundance of money....but leaving him unloved. Sometimes when you have everything, you have nothing. To understand this, you have to be inside the circumstances. Not just a passer by, like all the others that have filled Storm's life. Storm remembers the night...the smell of his mothers hair, as she placed him in a charlotte bed. Her glittering jewelry dancing across the candle light that they left on just for him when they were away for more than a day. The staff was never eager to see them go, seeing as how Johnny was a handful as a tyke. Except in under the gaze of his parent's loving stare. It was almost as if their eyes embraced you......and those memories are all he has of them. He can't remember his fathers voice anymore. It's lost among a sea of others. He doesn't remember his 4th birthday....because every memory before the moment of their death is a blur.
**I know this place...**
::Storm smiles slightly....the air in under his arms as he extends them outwards. Standing on the ledge of the stone terrace, feeling the wind of being up so high push up in under him. It almost feels as if he has enough resistance....that he could simply step off of the ledge and fly. That's what he wanted to do. Fly away from Johnny Storm. Fly away from Scarlett Rayne Sengir. Fly away from the GWA. Fly away to a place where he was normal. A place where he had no money. A place where he had no fame. Perhaps in a place such as that he could get someone to care, without having to beat their brains in with a lead pipe. That's what it took in his current life. It was getting harder and harder to address the superstars of the GWA, and it was like they continued to ignore him. Before all it took was an ill word, or a mention of their name. The next thing you know...your locked in a death grip. They want your body beaten...they want your sould broken. They actually care. This place was a nice place of escape, but it's not mine anymore. There is no death grip....no human emotion pumped into it at all. Just entertainment value, and television ratings. Where did the personal endeavours end?::
**I remember you...That's the tattered remains of what used to be my soul. The hell that I have brought down upon myself because of my own actions. Allowing you to move through me. I smell your hair...much like my mothers before she left. I taste your skin like sweet honey. I know your touch. I hear your words dripping down the cortex of my brain, and I do nothing but crave the next mouth full selfishly. I need to know you completely....to feel complete myself. I miss your gaze..the one you used upon me to drive the nexus of my being into a state of withdrawal when you stopped placing it upon me. I've lost hold of all that I was, and I've lost hold of all that I am. This inner strength is not mine. I can not use it without you. I need more than this kiss to remind me of your sweet tendancies. I am alone here inside myself.....you reached me. Don't turn me away now. Please for the love of god do not turn me back unto myself. For if I am forbidden to be there, then that is where I shall die. By myself with no one else to look after me. To look towards me. Join me in the place where we found each other...rather than the people we had made ourselves appear to be. I see now that this is a lost grievance. This is something....that I have to live with for the rest of my life. You took my parents. You took my girl. You took my money. You took my soul. You took my memories. You took my life. You took that which made me, me. And NOW.....NOW I WANT ME BACK! I am sick of playing this deluded fool. I want the person who is unafraid. Unafraid of you, and unafraid of her. I want the person who stared down the barrell of a loaded gun...and thought that it was entertaining, cause you could see inside the person...that they didn't have the guts to pull the trigger. I miss the person who was knee deep in secret dealings that could end or begin a persons career. Where have you gone Johnny Storm?**
::Storm moves closer to the edge. The toes of his shoes hanging over the ledge now, and the only thing holding him from falling is the heel. The rain pours out onto him, and Johnny Storm shoots his eyes towards heaven......the grey clouds swirling about him....so high that it appears he could reach out and touch the lightening that streaks across the sky. He allows a deep breath, that is replaced by steam as it exhales out of his body. The cold air nips at his flesh as he stands upon the ledge defiantly. Begging for the lightening to strike him. Almost if this was what he was asking. Quick..forgiveing mercy. Mercy from God that would take this pain within his chest away from him. His heart skips a beat, as he reaches to his button down shirt......stripping each of them away from the string that holds them bound to the fabric. The rain bounces off his bare skin like bullets, ricocheting blood outwards...causing splashes. He lowers his head for just a moment.....the water dripping from his hair down into his face. His breathing begins to increase.....his gumption building inside of him. Ready and willing to lose what it is everyone wishes they could have. His life. Everyone wanted Johnny Storm's life. The fans thought it would be so great to have all that money. Have the looks and the glamour that came along with being a superstar. The other Superstars knew he had the gold.....they all wanted it. They wanted his amazing ability to torture another man out in the ring, and make the people eat every last drop of it like it was their favorite meal.
Storm raises his face upwards again....and breathes in the thick New York air through gritted teeth. His eyes begging for God to do it. Threatening God. The snarl comes from out of no where....his anger brought to the surface, to mask the amount of sorrow he was feeling for himself. It was starting to beome to much. Losing everything that made him who he was. Losing the man inside of the vessel that was Johnny Storm. He was suddenly tired. Tired of everything. Tired of putting up a struggle against his transgressors....Tired of facing another person week in & week out for something as unimportant as a piece of golden tin. Tired of loving, but not feeling that returned to him. Tired of missing the person he longed to hold him. Tired of being who he was. Tired of trying to make up excuses cause he can't be that person anymore. Tired of Steven Fury. Tired of MJ Francis. Tired of Eric Rayne. Tired of Chris Carpenter. Tired of Marcus Gaines. Tired of Dark Tiger. Tired of Scarlett Rayne Sengir...but most importantly.....Tired of his own f*cking self. Tired of hearing his own obsessive whining and disappointment about what he has become. Tired of the sniveling....and the countless unheard threats that he continued to make with a partially loaded Colt Python. He had pointed that gun a million times at himself, and yet....he wasn't dead yet. Because of luck? Hell no......because of his own f*cking lack of fortitude to put a bullet in his head, and end the suffering he has felt since he was 5 years old, and was made to grow into an adult.
Johnny Storm sneers down at the city. A city that he contributed so much to as a GWA superstar, as a multi-billionaire, and as a first class asshole! Society judged him for how much money he made, but the money he made was generated by society's interest in his products. He knew exactly what he would have to give up for these people to finally love him. To find a smidgen of love, in a place that seemed so barron of it. HIs poor heart couldn't take this much more. Everything was being compromised.....all in one short month. Within the coarse of this month he has lost his bearings on life. He has lost Scarlett. and he has lost the Gladiator Championship. A man can only take so much, or so they say. This was his rope...and finally the loss of the Gladiator title put him at the end of it.::
**I know this place... I remember you....You are relief. Relief from my sins, and my pain. Why did it take you so long to come back to me.**
::Johnny Storm extends one foot outwards.....supported by only one leg.....his mind set on one thing. Relief! It was time for the end. It was time for the final bit of entertainment, that Johnny Storm knew the tabloids would eat up. Multi-billionaire wrestling superstar, Johnny Storm, throws himself from the top of the Waldorf Astoria's Presedential Suite. There was only one thing left for him to do then. Let go.....and allow himself to fall. His heart begins to race knowing that his gumption is starting to build within him. The palms of his hands growing moist with sweat. His eyes wide with the fear of the unknown. Was there life after death. Was there life after superstardome? But most importantly...was there life after wrestling? Eventually the career would be over anyways...and the one faithful, true love of Johnny Storm would abandon him just like everyone else. It was time for that relief. It was time to end everything that this place had placed upon him. Johnny Storm closes his eyes as if it will make the decision to 'let go' any easier.::
Beep~Beep~Beep
::The sudden noise causes Johnny Storm's eyes to shoot open. His footing starting to slip....He feels his grip on the wall tighten. The heel of his foot gives out from in under him, and instead of falling forwards, he falls flat on his back on the terrace from the ledge. He lands with a thud against the cobblestone like tiles, and immediatly reaches for his injured ribs. He sits up slightly...untill the annoying noise sounds once again from his shirt pocket. He reaches down and pulls out the Nokia Digital Phone to answer. His voice is scrachy, and sounds nothing like him when he speaks. He stops for a moment...clearing his throat, and then speaking again, in a more clear prununciation.::
Johnny Storm: Hello...
::The voice on the other end doesn't come through. He hears nothing but a clear connection, and someones breathing. Storm squints his eyes, listening hard for anything other than the soft breaths of another person. Storm opens his mouth to speak, but reverts to silence because of being unsure of what to say. He reckognized this breathing....he had heard it once before. His eyes suddenly come open, and he holds the phone close with both hands as he scrounges up to his knees. That breathing...that was the breathing he heard once against his face...on a pillow in Seattle, Washington. This was the breathing of a woman who had changed his mind set forever. Johnny Storm's heart wells up in his throat as he tries to spit out the few words that had been on his mind in the past hour. He wanted the comfort of her words in return. The best he can muster is.....::
Johnny Storm: Scarlett....
::The breathing ceases for a split second, and storm's heart stops along with it. As the breathing can be heard coming back to him, as does his blood flow. The numbness he felt in his soul not to hear her words calling to him. His mind races as to what he should say to her. What he should come up with to say...in one instant to make her believe that she was his life. Was it possiable to sum up in an instant? And what if that was all Johnny Storm had left? An instant.::
Scarlett Rayne Sengir: I'm.....I'm sorry. I have the wrong number.....
::The words cut deep, because he knows the voice that he had assumed was on the other end of the line to be true. Johnny Storm's mind screams as he opens his mouth to reply.::
Johnny Storm: Scarlett...WAIT!! Don't hang up!!
::Too late. He hears the tone at the other end, and he feels his heart drop back down into his stomach where it had been for so many months now without his friends in the buisness. The rain puddles all around him, and he looks through the stone pillars of the balcony where he had come so very close to ending it. Ending it all. He realizes now that this brief moment had also cost him something else besides countless heart ache. It had cost him his gumption. Storm stands up to get out of the pool that had formed around him. His clothes now soaked, clinging to his body....he makes his way towards the edge of the roof's over hang to get in out of the rain. Storm's eyes move to the ground, where he allows his thoughts to dwindle away. For once he wanted not to think, but just to be. Without the action of thought.::
Beep~Beep~Beep
::Storm automatically snatches up the phone from his pocket, and hits the talk button quickly. He holds the phone up to his ear desperately, and without hesitation says the first thing on his mind.::
Johnny Storm: Scarlett!?!?
Voice: Fraid not guy...it's Steph. Thought I would come by and see how you were doing after your match with Carpenter....considering the events that transpired.
Johnny Storm: oh...ok.
Stephanie Connor: Well hell...don't get all excited to see me or anything. A girl wouldn't know what to do if that were to happen. Sorry to disappoint.....
Johnny Storm: No...No...it's not that. It's just.....I...
Stephanie Connor: Have a lot on your mind. Yes...I know this. That's why I'm coming by to check on you. I'll be up in about five minuetes. See you then.
Johnny Storm: Yeah...see you then.....
::Johnny Storm's voice trails off as he clicks the 'End' button on the Nokia. He glances outwards, allowing his hand to limply fall to his side. The rain falls side ways like....slightly to the side. The clouds formed perfectly around each other to keep the sunlight away from the city streets far down below. A thin smile crosses Storm's face as the dark clouds part for just a moment...to see a glimir of light pass through. A glimir of hope. Maybe that's all he needed...maybe that was what was in store for him. Maybe not. Maybe Johnny Storm was just tired, and needed a longer rest than some people got. Maybe it wasn't the eternal rest that he had been seaking. Maybe he had just gotten to involved in being the best, rather than just allowing it to happen on it's own. Like it always seemed to do for him before. Alot of maybe's, and not nearly enough answers to sway the insecurities of them all. Storm smirks to himself, as he turns his back on the rain pouring outside.....and faces the rain that's pouring in his own life. Perhaps something he needed to do from the very begining.::
AUGUST 29, 2001
NEW YORK, NEW YORK
WALDORF ASTORIA
JUST CASUAL CONVERSATION & A CASUAL KISS: 2:03p.m.
::Stephanie Connor boarded the elevator down in the lobby after turning her own digital phone off. She had just gotten done with a brief conversation with Johnny Storm, and was heading up to his presidential suite now. Her mind wandered at how she ended up where she was. She had been living in New York since Trace had left her, and she even went through her pregnancy here. It was good to be back in town again, to see her daughter......to see some old friends. Now she was here at the Waldorf Astoria, going up to see a man who at one point she thought was the cause of her near fatal end with a bucket of water & a tasor. She had found out a great many things....Johnny Storm was a lot different now than he was then....and when he said he had nothing to do with that besides Alek Cage's involvement...she believed him. She questioned herself on that belief though. Why would she believe him? He was a viper waiting in the tall grass for the right time to strike. Was this her own gulliable actions, or was it possiable he had turned a new leaf in her eyes. She couldn't quite put her finger on it.....but he did help her get into the GWA, and that was enough for her at the time.::
INSIDE THE PRESIDENTIAL SUITE
::Johnny Storm held the gun in his hand.....the Colt Python was heavy & cold as he pushed the bullet within it's chamber. He closed the revolving clip into the barrel of the gun, and placed it on the table out in front of him. He smiled to himself. This was very interesting indeed. The impulse to take that gun, and end his own life suddenly seemed irrelivent. What was so bad about life? He was alive in it.....he was allowed to take up a marginal space in God's creation. He didn't have the worst piece of it either. I mean...he was a superstar, and he had the money to do whatever he wanted to. It's true though....money can't buy you everything. Just mostly everything. Storm smirks at this point, and leans back in the couch. Stephanie would be here soon, and they would probably discuss their upcoming matches at the PPV. Probably discuss a few things that he didn't want to discuss too...but that was just a matter of opinion. Time was running out for both of them, and they both needed to get around to the point behind why they were working together in the first place. Was it buisness or pleasure.....Storm had already forgotten somewhere within the process of it all.
The door bell rings, and Storm stands to an upright position....stepping over to answer the door. As he pulls the lavish opening in the wall, it creaks backwards...revealing a beautiful Stephanie Connor, decked out in a nice pair of stylish pants, and a low cut belly shirt. Storm could just imagine what the bell hop's were saying down stairs when she got on the elevator. Storm opened the door wider, and took a step backwards allowing her access into the room. A silent gesture of "come in" was exchanged through a glance, and Stephanie Connor glided across the floor into the room. Storm closes the door, and locks the dead bolt...turning his attention to the sexy female form before him. She moved across the carpet, kicking her heel's off into the floor beside the couch. She sat down on one end, as Storm entered the room now to watch her. Her feet curled up in under her, leaning against the arm rest, she was most deffinently a sight to be seen. Gorgeous smooth skin, dark brown hair....beautiful eyes. Storm smirks at the entertaining thoughts, and then steps in to become a good host.::
Johnny Storm: Care for a drink Steph?
Stephanie Connor: Sure...why not? What do you suggest?
Johnny Storm: I go for Jack Daniels straight.
Stephanie Connor: Brave man....no wonder you look a mess.....
::Johnny Storm's eyebrows raise, as he turns to look into the mirror off to the side. His mind rushes to the reality that he had been so deep in thought, that he had forgotten to change his clothes before she had arrived. He sure as hell hadn't planned on her seeing him this way. Matter of fact, he wasn't accustomed to anyone seeing him this way. Storm quickly rushes off towards the far bedroom door, a sweet smirk crossing Stephanie's face.::
Stephanie Connor: What happened to that drink Storm?
::Storm's jaw juts out in embarrasement, his nose acheing a little in under that tension. He turns the knob, pushing the door open...and enters the room. He takes off his now semi-dry shirt, and throws it aside...pushing his pants down to reveal his impressive physique. He reaches up, taking the bandages around his chest, and pulling at them to get them off. He stops for a moment....viewing the harsh burnt words into his chest. He shakes his head in a bit of anger, and then rushes over to the dresser to pull out some fresh clothes. HIs face unchanged as he lays the new gauls on the table, caught up in the concentration of dressing the wound created by another guy who actually admitted trying to get a push off of Johnny Storm's name. Storm's thoughts roll on as Stephanie Connor's thoughts are else where.
She watches him through the crack in the doorway. It's not like she wanted too...not like she needed to.....she just couldn't help it. The oppurtunity was there, and it was as if she couldn't turn away. His muscles buldged as he pulled his athletic shorts up and over his boxers. The shorts hugged his firm rear, as she fuond a smile crossing her face. His back muscles stood out nicely, a large bruise along his left rib cage the only flaw on the entire canvas that was Johnny Storm's body. That is untill he turns around. She had not seen it yet....although her thoughts went with him to the hospital the night he had recieved it. His chest mangled, and torn. Flesh so red, and blistered around the letters that spelled out 'Furys Bitch'. She could see it in his face as he applied the cold creme to the opened wounds, that it was still very tender to the touch. She feels suddenly compelled to say something to him, yet why? This man had done viscous things to her...or had someone do them at least. Why the hell would she feel any sympathy for him now? Was it because that was the past.....things between them went from being just buisness, to personal. For gods sake she was curled up on his hotel room couch. What was she doing here with Johnny Storm? The Biggest snake in the grass she had ever known. The one guy you knew better than to trust, yet always seemed to be able to buy into his stories of gold & fame. Stephanie already had fame & gold....so why was it that she was here?
Johnny Storm applies the gauls, and tightens them around his chest & shoulder as he begins to unwind the spindled product. Finally reaching the end...he cuts it with a knife laying over on the table. He uses medical tape to finish up the bandage, and then reaches for a "Black Sabbath" T-shirt, slipping it on, an stepping back out into the room...closing the door behind him. He steps over to the bar, not really looking over to Stephanie....cause he could feel her eyes wash over him from where he was. He pulled two fresh glasses down, and placed them on the bar. He reaches for his bottle of Jack, and then looks over to Steph who still has sympothetic eyes from what she saw in the bedroom. Storm is taken a back for a moment by the stare, and then returns to normal as best he can.::
Johnny Storm: What?
Stephanie Connor: Nothing.....I just was thinking.
Johnny Storm: About...
Stephanie Connor: Good question. I can't even remember...which means it probably wasn't all that important.
::Stephanie uncurls herself, and steps over to the bar, and sits down on the opposite side of storm as he bar tends. He looks up at her more normal facial gestures, and smiles softly.::
Johnny Storm: So what will it be Mrs. Connor?
Stephanie Connor: I think I'll take a Bloody Mary or something of that nature. Think you can handle that?
Johnny Storm: (chuckles a little) Sure....I can handle that. Why such an off the wall drink Steph? Need to unwind?
::Stephanie allows a soft laught, but contemplates her answer.::
Stephanie Connor: It's just symbolic I guess. I mean...replace the girl's name with any of my opponents at this PPV, and you have an exact depiction of what's going to happen to them in that match..
Johnny Storm: So you feel prepaired then?
Stephanie Connor: What do I need to be prepaired for? It's a Valkyrie Title match....a championship I really care nothing about. I've already played the role as the supreme woman of the GWA, it's time now to show what a woman of my stature can do with the rest of the GWA. I want to show my supremecy over the other divisions.
Johnny Storm Fair enough....any ideas on what you are going to want to target?
Stephanie Connor: Probably the Maximus Championship. I'm not quite sure yet. Does it really matter...the way the talent pool has been churning around here, I could probably take any title....(snidely) cept maybe yours.
Johnny Storm: Well technically it isn't mine anymore, you know.
Stephanie Connor: Sure....that belt could be around someone elses waist Storm...but you would still be the champion. At this point in time anyways..
Johnny Storm: At this point in time?
Stephanie Connor: You heard me....at this point in time. Theres only one true champion at this point, and he's not even apart of the promotion anymore. Or if he is...he barely shows his face.
Johnny Storm: Oh my god....not you too? Fucking A!
Stephanie Connor: You know it's true buddy. Chris Damm is the undesputed Gladiator Champion. You never beat him, hell...no one has ever beat him.
Johnny Storm: You know.....I expected that out of someone like Fury or something...but not you. Jesus, this is just perfect.
Stephanie Connor: Well don't go getting offended Storm. You gave him a run for his money like no one else could, but you never came up with the right end of that stick.
Johnny Storm: You know...your right. That's what pisses me off so much about it. Chris Damm was supposed to be here forever. At least as long as I was....just so we could go at it one or two more times. As crazy as it sounds, he's probably my favorite opponents. He's the one who knows how to push my buttons, and I know how to push his. We worked magic together...
Stephanie Connor: That you did....no denying that.
Johnny Storm: But he's gone. Who knows if he'll ever be back or not.
Stephanie Connor: Well as long as he's gone your the only Legend here, except for me of coarse.
Johnny Storm: (with a soft smile) Of coarse. But it would be nice to have some of the old competition back. This new breed just doesn't seem to be able to cut it.
Stephanie Connor: That's because most of them are either star struck, or to ignorant to think about greatness....they just want the titles.
Johnny Storm: Well I wanted the titles Steph...what does that say about me?
Stephanie Connor: People like us want the titles for a different reason. We want them for ourselves, just to prove we can take them at any time we want, and give them away at any time we want. They want them cause they believe that the titles will make them famous. Championships in this buisness mean nothing Storm. When you are the best you don't need that title to spread the word, cause everyone will know that on their own. Everyone despite these smart asses and their promos....knows that you kept the GWA alive in the absence of the Chris Damm's, Stephanie Connor's, and Trace.....
::Steph's voice trails off before she can finish her sentence. His name just came out, not that she meant for it too...just on instinct. She feels the pain in her heart leap up, and snatch at her vocal chords......taking away her ability to speak. Trace VanReardon, the love of her life, was the next name to come...and she couldn't bring herself to say it out loud to another person...let alone Johnny Storm. She looked at him desperately, almost as if tears were going to fill here eyes at any moment at this point on. Storm sets the alcohol down on the counter....and starts around the bar. As he reaches for Steph's shoulder, she places an easy hand on his chest. He squirms in under the pain.....the slightest touch causing the awful burn discomfort. She realizes this by the look on her face, and draws back from sorrow. This in turn allows Storm to touch her shoulder. The comfort of another mans touch had been long forgotten by Stephanie Connor. She felt without Trace VanReardon there was no point to endulge in such a thought. Suddenly over come by an urge, she embraces Johnny Storm's waist......Storm running his fingers through her hair, as she rests her head on his abdomen and lower chest. He carresses her face slightly....catching a salty tear before it has the chance to roll down her cheek. She lets out a loud sniff, drawing the tears back......and bringing her back to her senses in the now silenced room. She allows her grip around Storm's waist to absolve.....and he takes a step back to look her in the eyes. He smiles softly, trying to assure her thins would be ok. Now she suddenly felt stupid. She had allowed this relative stranger to play a part that he did not need to play. A part she had never intended for him to play. Johnny Storm was her buisness partner, not her friend or confidant. Or was he. Storm reaches over the counter, and pulls a box of tissues in front of Steph's smaller frame. She takes one in her hand, and finds herself smiling up to him as if to say, "thank you." In her mind she contemplates as to why she was doing that.....she didn't even want to. How could her body defy her actions so wickedly. Storm returns to the other side of the bar.......caught up a bit himself in his own thoughts about Stephanie. He begins mixing again, as if he isn't sure what to say now. Steph sits in silence....as he pushes her now prepared drink in her direction. She takes a sip...allowing the alcohol to hit her throat. The taste buds now heightened by the surprisingly good taste. She laughts a bit, and Storm is taken off guard by the sudden change. She then sniffs to push back the water in here eyes, and throat...caused by the outburst......and then smiles again.::
Stephanie Connor: It's good....
::Storm smiles slightly at hearing the compliment to his work.::
Johnny Storm: Well thank you Stephanie..
::Her name rolled off his tongue ever so sweetly, and she looks to him in a stunned kind of awe. What was this she was feeling for this other man in her life, that was suddenly feeling the void of something she hadn't know in a long while.....A friend.::
Stephanie Connor: Man...look at me. I have to do better than this. I have a match to focus on....you have a match to focus on. We should be watching tapes, and thinking...not going over the past.
Johnny Storm: Sometimes it's good to go over the past Steph. Sometimes the past is all we have to look at as a blue pring for how we screwed up in the first place...
AUGUST 31st, 2001
TORONTO, CANADA
CROWN PLAZA TORONTO CENTRE
WHERE ARE YOU GOIN'? TO PICK A FIGHT: 1:00 p.m.
::Johnny Storm watches the television in front of him, although the words kind of blare off the back of his brain...and shoot back out his nose. Meaning....he wasn't listening to a damn word that Mel Gibson was saying as William Wallace, in "Braveheart". Storm's tollerance for his own mode of thinking was exceptionally high today. No thoughts of suicide..no thoughts of Scarlett. He was now focused. Focused on what this had been about from the very begining. Since the very first time he stepped foot in a GWA ring, and had his clock cleaned by Chris Damm after an impressive victory over Alek Cage. The Gladiator Championship. It was merely a leather strap in the form of a belt...that held two small pieces of Gold fastened on either side of a large 11lbs piece of gold in the middle. Across the top it stated Gladiator Championship. In the middle, an engraved picture of the world...and a Gladiator resting that world upon his shoulders. At the bottom of that large piece of gold...was the name Johnny Storm. On the two smaller gold plates....are the names of past champions. Chris Damm....Mei Himagaji....Reina Saiaki....Gibson Caine.....Anton Rayge.....and Dark Tiger. Three of those champions mentioned would live on forever in the halls of the GWA Legends. Three of those names mentioned proved their inabilities as champions in the shortness of their title reigns. Three & a half months...nearly four...had passed since Storm had took over the Steam Ship known as the GWA. He had navigated the federation through some icy waters. Dark Times...Bad Times.....he never allowed her to sink, despite the efforts of others. Despite the efforts of others he never allowed himself to sink. He was an undefeated Gladiator Champion. He was still undefeated. Despite what Chris Carpenter may want to say about that match on Insurrection, he did not get the victory. If he did...then please tell us why he is not carrying the gold like he boasted he would be. One thing was for certain that night however....Johnny Storm was not at his best. Not at his best at all. There were rumors in the back that Storm had been sick that night. That Storm had the flu, and was puking before he made his enterance during Stephanie Connor's match..to aid her in a first class stomping of Jonathan Lindsey. Why? Cause Lindsey needed to know his place, which was at the bottom of the GWA food chain. Whether Storm was sick or not was irrelivent to him though. He wanted Chris Carpenter...hell....he requested the match himself. Did he think that Carpenter deserved a shot? Hell no. It was a matter of shutting those chattering teeh of his once and for all. However, theres a deffinent truth that theres a first time for everything, cause for the first time ever Johnny Storm didn't get the job done. Matter of fact...Chris Carpenter did a good job of keeping up with Storm. In the end though...it still didn't matter. Even in a weakened condition, Johnny Storm was able to fend Carpenter off. He pinned him even. However the referee....who may we remind you works for Steven Fury....decided that it was Storm's shoulders that were down on the mat. Thankfully there was a ref standing by who had his eyes checked that week, and he came down to straighten everything out. Yet out of the blue here comes Steven Fury once again on his high horse, waving his mouth around like it was an English flag on the fields of Scotland. In the case of a draw or a double pin...it was Storm's estimation that he retained the title respectively. Same as a count out, or Disqualification. However....Steven Fury bent the rules once again to his favor...stripping both Storm & Carpenter of the belt. It would have been a shock, if it hadn't been so expected. This was Steven Fury after all.....master of the screw job. Not that he's ever needed an introduction for that fact to be known.
In Storm's estimation..the best way for him to understand the logic behind this move..was to try and make him work hard in the Main Event of the PPV this Sunday. As If Storm would have to work hard against the cretans if he were the champion...but since technically he wasn't.....They would actually have a little advantage. Not enough to matter, because quite frankly Johnny Storm was on another level. At another calibur of athelete & Superstar than these men. It's true that Marcus Gaines & Chris Carpenter beat the tag team of the MOV, but men rarely look at how they beat their opponent. It was a fluke. Stephanie sure as hell didn't mean to mace the wrong guy...it just happened that way. That match also didn't prove anything about this match, cause that wasn't Johnny Storm that the two morons were covering for the win. To win a match involving Johnny Storm is one thing. To win a match over Johnny Storm is near impossiable. Unless your two people...or possiably even two on one. Lets face it Ryo & Lindsey...when Jim Daher is your tag partner it's two on one! That wasn't the point either however....the point was...Johnny Storm was starting to come to terms with himself. He was starting to remember that part of him that thrived for the buisness that he has helped to create. He wants now.....to bring that man back to the status he once was. It was time for Johnny Storm to take posession of the ball again, and bring it back to his court.
The door bell rings, but Storm already knows who's behind it. There was no appointment made...there was no one else it could be other than Ross Bobby, GWA reporter and ass backwards man extroidanaire. Storm reaches the door of the luxery suite, and allows it to swing open slightly. Sure enough there he stood..goofy smile and all. Storm starts over to the bar, and gestures for Ross to come in. Ross steps onto the welcome rug down at his feet, and closes the door behind him. He whipes the mud from his shoes considering it was raining outside here as well. He stops to take in the always lavish surroundings of a hotel suite rented by "Mr. Fantastic", and then starts over to the bar where Johnny Storm has fixed them both a drink. Ross eyes the glass for a moment as he begins to set up his camera. Storm had never offered him a drink but a couple of times in his life, and that's when he knew something was amiss. It was time for Ross Bobby to come up with another ingenious question & answer promo with Johnny Storm to indulge the GWA fans with. Storm leans against the bar, and allows the little red light of the camera's 'on' position to wash over him. He then takes the drink in his hand, as Ross brings his carry on mic to his lips.::
Ross Bobby: Hello GWA fans! This is Ross Bobby, and I'm here with the Gladiator Cha......
::Ross cuts himself off, and Storm takes a sip of his drink. His nuckles turning white in under the pressure he is now applying to the glass. The burning substance washes down the back of his throat, and he eases his grip....allowing the glass to come back to the table with a loud smack. Ross decides to start again...perhaps with a bit more tact.::
Ross Bobby: Hello GWA fans! This is Ross Bobby, and I'm here with "Mr. Fantastic" Johnny Storm! And Two Days Away...we have Anguish, only on PPV...call your local cabel company or DirectTV provider right now to see it Live from the Air Canada Centre, in Toronto, Canada! The Main event is a Fatal Fourway Parking Lot Brawl between Johnny Storm, Chris Carpenter, Marcus Gaines, and Dark Tiger. This is set up to be probably one of the most anticipated matches in a long while here in the GWA....now Mr. Storm...everyone's got this on their mind. Anton Rayge. What you did to him was a new level of sick estimated by some people....what do you have to say about that?
Johnny Storm: What do I have to say about that? Quite simple really. If you thought that was sick, then wait till you see this Sunday at the PPV. I plan on taking violence to an all new level, and you might even see me dish out a few surprises along the way. As far as Anton Rayge goes....it was a matter of pay back for our little incident last week. No one is as good at the back stage beating as Johnny Storm is Mr. Rayge...take that to your bank and cash it, cause I don't think you have much credit left at mine. Now I've given this over rated chump to much of my time....it's time to move on to something important.
Ross Bobby: Alright then.....let's talk about you and Stephanie Connor. What is the relationship between the two of you, and why in the hell have you two decided to form an alliance?
Johnny Storm: It was only a matter of time Ross. I mean.....it's kind of sad really that you didn't get it sooner. I am a buisnessman, she's a buisnesswoman...we are both incrediably sexy. It all fits right there. in those few words, it tells the story. Bottom line, we have something to offer each other. What that is for now, will remain a mystery to the outside public. Got that Ross?
Ross Bobby: Whatever you say Johnny. Well I guess theres only one thing left on the weekly agenda, and that's got to be the crushing loss of the Gladiator Title from your posession. I mean......you didn't lose, you didn't win. It was an up & up draw. Both men were declared winners of the match by two different referee's...just for Steven Fury to come out, and say neither of you won it. All I can say is that I didn't understand any of it....and I don't believe the viewers did either.....your thoughts on that night?
Johnny Storm: What needs to be said Ross. I screwed up. Let me be the first to say to Chris Carpenter, Thank you.
::Ross' normal goofy expression drops to one of shock & dismay. Storm smiles sarcastically as he keeps a cool head about him, looking straight into the camera.::
Johnny Storm: Chris Carpenter you opened up a light. You clicked on a switch in Johnny Storm that said, "Hey....you can be beat if you allow this to own you, instead of you owning it." For three & a half months now I've been walking around with that title around my waist, fighting battle after battle...backing down from no one's challenge, and I have went undefeated. It took someone of your ignorance, and pathetic attempts at wrestling to show me how far I have dropped from the spot that I should be. You see...I pride myself on being the best, and the Gladiator Championship is physical proof of that accomplishment. I have been walking in & out of competition like they were back yard chumps here in the GWA. But it wasn't me. It was the title. The title carried me cause I started to depend on being the champion to get me over. Being a man with a belt around here is a very intimidating thing. You can sit back and say 'Bull Shit' if you want to, but you know in your heart it's true. I allowed that title to keep me alive for the past three months, and it took a meesily bastard like you to snap some sense into me. It wasn't the Gladiator Title that made me great. It was Johnny Storm. You didn't do anything in that match to Johnny Storm. You did it to the Gladiator Champion. Bottom line Chris it took that title being taken away from me to realize how tentalizingly Fantastic I really am. So I am here on National Television saying thank you for that match. Don't you worry there pal..cause Johnny Storm is back in full control of his destiny, and my destiny is what it has always been. To hold the Gladiator Championship around my waist. Ross....who did I face in my first match?
::Ross Bobby sits in thought for a moment, and then he shrugs his shoulders::
Ross Bobby: I couldn't tell you.
Johnny Storm: Fair enough...let me ask you something else.....can you name one opponent I faced in the ring untill I faced off against Chris Damm & Sebastian Bock...when Steven Fury was my Tag Partner? Do you remember that?
Ross Bobby: (like a light bulb just went on) Yeah! Damm & Fury both turned on you & Bock, but Mitchell Bleek drug you out of the ring before they could do anything to you! So they took it out on Bock!
Johnny Storm: Answer my question ross. Do you remember anyone?
Ross Bobby: (thinking again) Lets see....hmmmmm....actually..now that you mention it...no.
Johnny Storm: That's right Ross...you don't remember, because up untill the moment I started screwing over the top dogs did I start getting reckognized. I know where these guys are coming from. Chris Carpenter, Shane Stevens, Marcus Gaines, Dark Tiger. I was wrestling in independent promotions when these guys were out playing in the back yard, and most of them are probably older than I am! I have went through more money in one week, than they have had in their entire combined bankrolls at one time! I didn't have to ride anyones coat tails to get to where I was....I went in and smacked them in the face. Shane Steven's thinks that his little cutesy wootsey promos before a match are supposed to scare me? I don't need any kind of gimmic to get myself over....I only need to be myself, and you people will f*cking hate me. I've decided that theres only one reason that Steven Fury has allowed any of you talentless bastards into the ring with me...and that's cause he honestly thinks that you have a chance of taking that strap off of me. Well that's his own dillusions, cause it ain't going to happen.
::Johnny Storm reaches behind the counter, and when he brings his hand back up, he places a colt python on the table. The large hand gun being put in plain view of Ross nearly makes him faint. Storm gives him an assured glance, and then turns back to the camera.::
Johnny Storm: For nearly three months now I have been loading one to three bullets into this hand gun, holding it to my temple...and playing russian roullette, cause I honestly thought that I was alone in this world. All the people that I wanted into this buisness to come after, have abandoned me. Ross....do you remember why I came here. It was about three weeks in after my debut, and I finally released the bomb shell. Go ahead and tell them, cause you conducted those interviews.
Ross Bobby: Oh yeah. You were signed up one week exactly after Chris Damm performed his first match. The very next card after that, you were on a plane to that event to take place in a match with someone. You had shot your mouth off about Chris Damm, and he took exception to that. So he came out to make an example of you. The next week...you came out and tazored him, Alexis, and Steven Fury all in one sitting. Damm was furious, so he came back and broke your nose in the parking lot. You came back with a lead pipe, and jumped him in the parking lot...so on and so on...untill finally Tyler Riggs found it fitting to put you in a Tag Match with Chris Damm against Daher & Doomsday for the Legion Tag Team Titles. This was when the fascade of you being a push over came out. Chris Damm Stole your half of the titles, and tried to run with that...but then you challenged him for them both. In an electrified barbedwire hell in a cell match. It was the most brutal match anyone ever saw. Probably the best fued ever lived out on GWA television, but it was then that you stated your purpose for coming here in the first place. You were here for Chris Damm.....and you were here for the Gladiator Championship.
Johnny Storm: Thank you Ross....that's enough. That's exactly why I came to this federation. For those two reasons. I got one of those reasons twice. Now I want the other one twice too. Matter of fact, I want it this time for good. I've decided to let this little PPV match prove something to the GWA as a hole. I am untouchable, because none of you have the talent to face me. This title will never get in my way again..because I've learned through these lessons that it is I who carry the gold...it's not the gold that carries me. I am the one who controls the GWA....not STEVEN FURY! I am the one..who is going to walk into that parking lot with nothing to lose, but every ounce of gold on that belt to gain. I am willing to do whatever it takes to get my property back, even if it means killing one of you in the process. This is a sanctioned GWA match, and it's been set in a parking lot. There are bound to be some cars....and there are bound to be some weapons. if I get my hands on them....rest assured that I plan on using it to the best of my ability to put you out of the fight for good. I don't need the MOV for this, just like I didn't need the Brotherhood. Hell...who did need the Brotherhood besides Anton Rayge!
This gun here is a symbol. It's a symbol of destruction, death, and war. That is what the outcome of this little match will be. A war. Lots of destruction. And maybe even death, even if it's just death in spirit. I plan on breaking more than just bones gentlemen. I plan on breaking your spirits. The same way my good friends tried to do to me. I've decided in this buisness that if my friends are going to abandon me for other pursuits, then I'm just going to have to make new friends. I swear to god after this match you will either be as viscous as they once were, or you will be broken in under this sport. You guys seem to think this is some sort of game here. You see I got plenty of money....I don't need to do this. I don't have to wrestle cause I'm to stupid to gout out and make myself a fortune. I already have a fortune, and its that very reason that makes me that much more dangerous. I am in this for the hell of it. I love making you guys bleed. I love making Steven Fury have heart attack when he thinks one of his wrestlers is going to be innoperable. I love it when you guys beg for the mercy, that you know I'm never going to show you. I live for this buisness, because I choose too. Not because I have to. I've made myself the success I am....off of sheer lack of fear towards anything. You book the match, I'll wrestle it. You book the opponent, I'll wrestle him. How pathetic is it...that when I was the champion, I was the one makeing challenges to half of you MORONS OUT THERE IN THE BACK! This PPV match is just another stepping stone to ensure my place amongst the legends, and after I win it...Steven Fury...I want a good old fashioned...DOUBLE OR NOTHING MATCH AGAINST CHRIS CARPENTER FOR THE TITLE! Cause I am walking out of this match with the God Damn title, one way or another!
Chris Carpenter......you have the gaul to actually believe that you are put in this match for no other purpose than for me to give you a push, and make you look better. You say you don't need me to get a push or to get over with these fans cause you say screw the fans. I believe that just about as much as I believe you are straight. You run your mouth about not needing Johnny Storm to get over, yet you use my name 78 freakin' times in each promo since you've been back in the GWA! You are nothing without me. I'm tired of being the savior of the GWA. I'm tired of trying to show you worthless wrestlers in the back that I am the best. I am tired of showing you why I am the Champion. It's so clear to me now that if I had just stayed myself in the first place.....all of this would fall into place. You would be back at McDonalds asking the long fated question in your career..." would you like fries with that?" You think you have a prayer, well I don't believe you do. I think that maybe you are going to be caught with your pants down once again with another 14 year old. Don't think I haven't found about that bucko.....all you Canadians need someone warm to snuggle up beside. Kind of like Steven Fury. How old is MJ now pal? Is she able to driver herself, and buy her own alcohol yet....or is that what your for. Awwwww now go change your diapers MJ, it was just a joke. Chris Carpenter, there's one thing deffinently that needs to be said about you....you don't know when to shut up. Your ability to bull shit is like none other.....and I plan on making sure one day that you will not be able to open your mouth. Kind of like I did Anton Rayge on Wendsday Night. Just think about it kid.....do you have what it takes to stand in the ring with me once again, knowing what I'm capable of. Let alone in a parking lot match? Consider this your test....consider this my question & answer to you Chris. You've said all along you should lead the GWA....FUCK YOU CHRIS! Lead them. I never wanted to in the first place. You are coming onto national television asking Steven Fury for the Gladiator Championship, knowing that that is the only way you are going to touch it. I have on guarantee, and that you are not going to walk out of this match a champion...even if it means I don't either! That is enough about you Chris Carpenter, cause I can't think of anything else that matters to say!
Dark Tiger.....haven't we been here before? Wasn't it you that I threw myself off of the side of the rafters with in the Fantasticator? Wasn't it I who crawled through steel mesh, and splintered wood of what used to be a ring just to cover you? Wasn't it I that walked through the curtain, and did exactly what I said I was going to do? I took that Gladiator Title from around your waist once before, and I am going to state that you will not be getting it back soon. Matter of fact, you don't deserve this shot in the ring! You beat Sledge Hammer...so what?! I've climbed these hurdles so many times that I don't really know why I'm surprised. Dark Tiger, you are just another one of the countless names that try and get over by the use of words. I don't need these interviews to prove a God Damn thing! I know exactly who I am, and what I am capable of doing! I don't need words like you do. You use them to cover up the fact that you have no talent. You had never wrestled anyone like me before, and you have yet to wrestle anyone like me again. It's time for you to realize....that you and I are no where near alike. We are so different, that as wrestlers that is almost scary. I can relate to just about everyone except for you Dark Tiger, cause I don't know why your here in the first place! You say that I was keeping the Gladiator Title warm for your return to the ring. You idiot...I beat you, not the other way around. What makes you believe that this will be any different? What makes you think that I am going to just bow down to the greatness, that you have yet to show me. You've done nothing but run your mouth Dark Tiger. You've won a title that I went undefeated as, and you have set your eyes on an unattainable goal. The Gladiator Championship is not yours to take, it is mine. I beat you for it, and in that one action caused you to lose all rights to it. I have carried the mantle of the GWA ever since you defected, and quit....BECAUSE I HAD BEATEN YOU! You were afraid of me. You showed that fear by tucking your striped tale between your legs, and running! You know...it's a sad state of denial, when you come out and make an utter fool of yourself on national television. You don't even belong in this match, let alone near the title. You haven't done anything to gain our respect, besides bleed by my hands. I broke Dark Tiger, and just like last time...I'm going to break you again. I can guarantee that you will not walk out of this match the Gladiator Champion. This is not your night, and as long as I'm in the GWA....neither will any of the others. To bad for you kid!
Marcus Gaines....
::Johnny Storm smiles for a moment with his eyes to the glass in his hand. He takes a sip, and then reverts his attention back to the camera.::
Marcus Gaines I commend you. It was fun wasn't it? You never pinned Johnny Storm in a match...never have you beaten me one on one..yet you probably don't see that as a matter of importance. Your right about certain events though. I've been beaten....I've been trampled....I've been branded. I've even been beaten before. Just like you have. The other two I'm not going to worry about giving respect, because they haven't done a thing to prove they deserve it. But you have something that I can see....and it's me. You have come back from defeat's door, and you plan on making the most of this endeavor of greatness. Marcus, on Sunday we step into the lime light of another GWA arena....and we battle in front of another GWA crowd. I've forgotten what that was like, because I haven't had a true battle in some time. I won't find it with Dark Tiger, and I know I can't ever find it with Chris Carpenter....but you. You have so much potential walking into a match like this, and that actually causes me to give you respect. Fear is not an option when you decide that professional wrestling is the sport you want to enter into. Where you may have had it before, I can see now that you have made your attempts at salvaging what will be a good career. I think my misconception came in thinking that I needed that Gladiator Title to become what I wanted....and that being a Legend.
::Storm smiles now...almost casual in his speach, not really using the forceful metaphors he had for Carpenter & Dark Tiger. No need to really...because Marcus Gaines didn't warrant them.::
The Gladiator Championship was something that I wanted Marcus...it was something that I needed! Back then I didn't need to prove it to anyone but myself. I didn't care about what these fans wanted, I didn't care about what Steven Fury wanted...I didn't care about what anyone wanted. I was only concerned with two things...facing Chris Damm, and becoming the Gladiator Champion. When I was taken out of this sport in September of the year 2000, I was in the prime of my life. When I came back in march, I was a completely different person. I wasn't my usual self. I looked around the federation that I helped put on the map by simply facing Chris Damm & Steven Fury....and saw that it had changed. There was no more Chris Damm, Steven Fury was the undesputed President of the GWA, there was no more Sebastian Bock..the Circle had disappeared, and the only person left was Reina Saiaki. She of coarse didn't stay long either. She retired as soon as our match had taken place. New superstars had erected themselves into the spotlight of the GWA, and it truely made me sick. Guys weren't even having to pay their dues, and they automatically were given chances to rule the shows week in & week out. Thats when I lost track of everything Marcus...that's when I lost track of what this sport is all about. I allowed that stunning change to influence the reasons behind me winning the Gladiator Championship. I suddenly needed to be at the top, just to keep the GWA propelling through the darkened waters we were chartering through. I was out there for the title not because of me...but because of the fans, because of the wrestlers, and because of Steven Fury! I was never handed anything...but they might as well have because they made it so god damn easy to take.
So here I am again Marcus. I never seem to quit. I never seem to let up. The pressure is always on you, and everyone else around you. Chris Carpenter & Dark Tiger are but added fuel, to match that is brewing between the two of us. One of us two will walk out the Gladiator Champion. I'm not going to say that I've got this all wrapped up, because maybe I don't. Maybe Johnny Storm has had his time in the light, but the point is kid.....I don't need that light to guide my ship anymore. I will sail my own vessel, and I will win on my own accord. Sometimes winning isn't everything in these matches. Sometimes feeling the blood, sweat, and tears of another man's tension wash over you can be just as gratifying as if they had handed me the belt & the victory. I'm through carrying the GWA...and headlining the matches cause it's the popular decision. I'm through making Steven Fury's money, and I'm through trying to act as your saviors. It doesn't get any more personal than it does right now. You want that championship for one reason, I want it for another. This is going to be something you never saw coming...because even if you win Marcus, so do I. This will not be as easy as you have tried to think up in your mind that it will be. This is not going to be easy period. I don't need any of this anymore, and am willing to give it all up just for one more death defying fight. I don't need the Championship, or the epic battles to make myself a legend. I've realized that I already am.
One solid year has passed, and I'm into about three months of a new era. I've lost a step over that time, and I'm not so sure I could still do what I used to do in a GWA ring...the way I did it back then. It's high time we find out Marcus. This is our time to shine kid. This is yours and mine. We are going into this match, and I make only a few guarantees. I may not be the victor at the end, but you will respect me. Deep down in your heart you will always feel my tension bearing down on you. Just a word of advice though Marcus...if you do win....don't let that championship decide your destiny. Keep a firm grip on your own reality, and mold it into what you want it to be. You made the statement that it was my job to teach you what a Gladiator Champion is all about....well basically....that time has passed. I'm through teaching you guys, and carrying your minds over the thresh hold of greatness. My name will live in the history books forever, because I've earned that spot. Marcus...even after you believe you've gotten what you wanted....even if you get the chance to hold that title up above your head.....it doesn't mean that you are a legend. It just means that you are like the three champions I mentioned early on in this interview....Dark Tiger...Anton Rayge....Gibson Caine.....you are merely holding it....for someone else to come in and take it. Disheartening I know Marcus...but true non the less. I'm sorry to burst that bubble in your face....but I'm not afraid Marcus. I've been in this spot before. It's just another Main Event, and another battle for a title. I've already proven my worth, and now it's time for you to prove yours. I wish you luck kid, cause come Sunday......this gets more personal than it ever has. I'm well enough off that I can afford a loss, but looking at your career....I don't think you really can. Theres a reason why I'm the Lord of the dance kid, and I'm not talking that River Shit neither.
::Storm stops talking for a moment, and he sips at his drink. Ross thinking everything over, begins to pack his belongings away. Things were deffinently starting to get wierd, and the intinsity that Johnny Storm usually had after an interview was no where in sight. He was cool, calm, and collected. Something that was good for him, but probably very bad for everyone else. As Ross reaches over to turn the camera off, Storm suddenly jumps into action grabbing him by the wrist, and then looking into the camera with a sarcastic smile. His blue eyes washing over the lens, sincereness echoing with in their malignant stare.::
Johnny Storm: By the way Marcus....I don't have to win the match, to leave you how I've left everyone else...
Face Down
Ass Up
In A Pool Of Your Own F*cking Blood!!
::Storm allows Ross' hand to be released, and he turns the camera off himself. He sits down on the stool behind him, and looks over at Ross. He smiles softly, and then takes another long sip of his drink.::
Johnny Storm: What do you think Ross?
::Ross Bobby looks up now very interested not really in the question, but the man asking it. Johnny Storm had never offered to ask him a question before. This was something unusual..unusual indeed, and deserved the attention of such an event.::
Ross Bobby: About what?
Johnny Storm: What just happened here....what are your thoughts?
Ross Bobby: I don't know....it sounded like you were calmer than normal. Like you knew exactly what was going to happen this Sunday. Like win or lose, you wouldn't fret or lose yourself in it like you have in the past. It sounded like the guy I interviewed one year ago when he was going up against the top names, and wasn't quite there yet himself.
::Johnny Storm smirks to himself, and then takes the Jack Daniel's bottle in his hand and pours himself some more. He sips the brownish liquid, and places the glass on the bar. He looks to Ross, who sits back staring towards him.::
Johnny Storm: Yeah. I know.
::With that Johnny Storm reaches over, takes the camera off its stand, and hands it over to Ross Bobby. Ross places the camera in his bag, along with the stand. He then gets up off his stool, and starts towards the door. His thoughts on the interview, and the question & answer that took place afterwards. He exits the room, and Storm grins now that he's gone. This match was set in stone, and it was time for just one more bout with a bull shit setting of any thing other than what it was. A personal endeavour by four different men for their own personal gain. Johnny Storm knew all about personal gain....and it was time to teach the underlings why this wasn't about the Gladiator Title anymore....but about himself.::
::She didn't know what upset her more...the fact that he was right, or the fact that it was him telling her this. She rubs her hand over her eyes tiredly, allowing her hair to fall out of place for the first time in the night. Storm smiles slightly at her elegance, even in a moment of weakeness. Steph looks back to Storm now..the first time she had been able to without looking away, and he simply smiles the same way he had been. It was driving her nuts. She wasn't sure whether she hated it...or she liked it.::
Stephanie Connor: I'm glad I'm back you know. I needed to take some frustration out on something...and three other women in a wrestling ring should do. Scarlett Rayne Sengir...hmph. I hope you don't harbor me any ill will for beating her into submission?
::Johnny Storm almost squirms in under that name, and she see's it. She wasn't the only one here with a weakness. That made her feel a little better oddly enough, although something else swelled within her as well.::
Stephanie Connor: So that's the Scarlett you mentioned earlier on the phone. Pray tale....what is the matter Storm...your turning all shades of pink.
::Johnny Storm takes the straight shot of jack, and drives it backwards into his mouth. It moves quickly down his throat, almost so fast that he doesn't feel the burn. He then looks to Stephanie...::
Johnny Storm: That's nothing. Do what you have to do....I've just got some problems with her brother, that's all.
Stephanie Connor: Mmhmm. Well that's good to hear. I'm going to enjoy kicking her teeth down her throat. She seems kind of like the stupid flighty kind. Perhaps thats exactly what I need to prove my dominance here in the sport. To just beat her, Mei, and who was that now.....oh well, it will come to me. Maybe I just need to drop them like bad habits...and wait for the rest of the world to catch up. What do you think Storm? Knocking the little B!itch out of the fight should prove interesting shouldn't it?
Johnny Storm: Sure...yeah. Whatever.
::Stephanie smirks now, allowing her bottom lip to curve into a smile. Finally she felt like she was back in control of this conversation. It was about time. Now Johnny Storm could squirm for a change.::
Stephanie Connor: Yeah...I believe that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to step into that ring, take the Valkyrie Title...and then use it to level out my coffee table. If nothing else this is a good warm up to start with. Scarlett Sengir should prove to be a nice little test of what is to come. Leaving her laying in a pool of her own blood will do nicely to improve her looks & her image. Maybe after I'm done kicking the shit out of her, I'll mace her....maybe...here's an idea...maybe I'll tasor her.
::Storm squirms again, but continues to keep his focus away from the conversation. Stephanie finally decides that enough is enough, and decides to turn her attention to another subject.::
Stephanie Connor: You know....Mei Himagaji is going to be in this match as well. She was a long running Gladiator Champion as well...just like you. I might like making an example of her as well. I'm not sure who I'll enjoy pinning more. Mei will be just another test on my road to greener pastures. This is such a joke. By all rights I should be facing Lost Worlds for the Maximus Title...not Chris Cane. I should do something special for that match as well. I think this will be Stephanie Connors night Storm. Matter of fact I can feel it. I can feel it rushing through me. The excitement of finally getting back in that ring, and taking someone to the physical limit of their own pain. There is no other feeling in the world like it. Wouldn't you agree?
::Storm nods his head, seemingly still not back from the dream state she had put him in upon the mentioning of the name...Scarlett Rayne Sengir. What was so special about her? Why was his mind on her when he had "Ice Cold" Stephanie Connor sitting right here before him? Why in the hell did she care so much? Stephanie shakes her head to try and clear these questions from her mind, and for the first time he notices something Steph's eyes. Perhaps his reactions to Scarlett's name being brought up, was triggering a jealous sreak in Stephanie. But why would Stephanie be jealous unless there was something forming here between them to be jealous of.::
Johnny Storm: um..I know we're supposed to be discussing the matches...but..um..would you like to go watch some TV?
::Stephanie looks oddly at Storm, and she opens her mouth to remind him that this was just buisness...but instead what comes out shocks even her.::
Stephanie Connor: Sure...
::Stephanie's mouth shoots closed, and her eyes grow wide as she realizes what just came out of her mouth. Storm starts from around the bar to the living room, and she stands still stunned at herself for her quickness to hop on a couch with a one time enemy. Storm sits down and reaches for the remote, turning the power on. Suddenly "Can't Hardly Wait" is upon the screan, and Stephanie finds herself sitting down beside Storm watching the screan. Their eyes every once in a while drift over to each other, but the strangeness of the moment almost seems to much as to try and carry a conversation. Storm stays on his end of the couch, and Stephanie on hers. Neither of them appearing to budge......Suddenly Storm hops up, and starts into the kitchen......and Steph almost jumps as if startled by the sudden movement. Storm however pays it no attention, and a few banging sounds ensue from the kitchen. Storm watches the doorway leading into the tiled room warily, and in interest. She leans forward as if to peer into the open door, but as Storm appears back in the door way she quickly turns back to the movie. Storm steps in front of her again, and sits down this time in the middle of the couch...in a closer position. Her heart begins to race as Storm reaches over shyly with some sort of object. She felt like a school girl, and this was feeling very stupid to her by this time. She was a grown woman for christ's sake. He was a grown man. There was nothing wrong with the two of them watching a movie together. There was nothing wrong with him, if he wanted to touch a beautiful ladies knee. She should feel very comfortable with the situation....however, she wasn't. Was it cause she was starting to like him, or because she missed Trace so much. Was he advancing cause he didn't have anyone in his life, or because he was truely atttracted to her. Steph is taken completely off guard by the object that has now reached her upper thigh. She moves suddenly, and quickly...jumping up off the couch causing the pop corn bown that Johnny Storm was trying to offer her to fly up into the air. The room begins to rain white kernals as Storm looks at Steph a little shocked, and now pushed all the way on his side of the couch again. Stephanie looks down at Storm...then to the bowl that is overturned in the floor. She then looks all around her, and at the pop corn that has been scattered everywhere. The only thing she could think to do next...was laugh. She begins to laugh loudly now.....holding her bare stomach, and allowing everything to come out of her in a wave. Storm smiles softly at this display, and then begins to laugh himself. The two laugh on for long moments....and Stephanie slowly begins to try and regain her composure.::
Stephanie Connor: Sorry about that...a....a bit jumpy.
::The two begin laughing once again, now louder and harder than ever. Stephanie is forced to sit down....both of them find this embarasseing situation hillarious. Storm finally tries to calm down, as does Stephanie. The both of them continue to chuckle as Storm reaches down for the pop corn bowl. It is obvious that the two of them had the same Idea to clean up, because Stephanie reaches over to pick up the bowl as well...causing their heads to but together. Storm & Stephanie both fall into the floor onto their knees, and begin laughing loudly. He holds his head, and she clutches at hers. The two of them sit there and laugh untill the point that they begin to try and look in each others directions. The laughter ceases, as Storm follows her sweet smile with his eyes. She feels his attraction, and the fact that she felt it as well frightened her. Storm reaches up touching Stephanie's face slight, and no matter how hard she tries....she can't seem to get her motor functions to pull away from his gentle touch. She want's to say something, but before she can....His lips are already stifleing her. She allows a small high pitched sound be released, but it doesn't help the situation as her eyes close along with his. She feels herself being laid down on the floor where they had been positioned.....his body pushing ontop of hers. He was warm....she had forgotten that lovely feeling. She feels himself press his hips to hers, her eyes fluttering in under the heat of the moment. Their tongues playing along with each others...her lip dancing along the line of his. She feels as he reaches down to pull her legs up around him, and the sudden terror floods back to her...and she remembers exactly why this was wrong. She pulls hard with her face away from his...it taking nearly every ounce of will power she has to do so. She then allows one word to escape her increased breath of passion.::
Stephanie Connor: Stop...
::Storm's eyes open...and he allows his hand to drop down to the floor where he now hovers over her body. Stephanie turns her face away from his, so she doesn't have to see his beckoning eyes. He suddenly shakes his head in the no position as if running her words through his mind.....and as quckly as he had found his way ontop of her, he found his way off. Walking all the way out onto the balcony, breathing very hard, and gripping the stone guard that was erected all around the terrace. Stephanie pulled herself up onto the couch, and adjusted her shirt...and her bra in underneath it where it had become uncomfortably fondled. She watches the outline of Storm out on the balcony, and she stands to her feet. She knew that she had to say something, but what could she say. She felt the attraction for him...but she knew if she were to ever get her love back with Trace, that she could not give in to such a thing. Storm out on the balcony knew this in his heart as well......that Scarlett wouldn't ever forgive him if this were to transpire. Of coarse what did he care. Who the hell did Scarlett think she was interrupting his thoughts in such a way. Stephanie makes her way out onto the balcony, and opens her mouth with a gentle voice behind it.::
Stephanie Connor: I'm sorry....
::Storm's head shoots up from looking to the streets below, to look out over the city scape of New York. His anger wasn't towards Stephanie Connor, but at himself for letting himself feel this way. He turns back around, and look at her with a sarcastic smile erected to hid his pain.::
Johnny Storm: Water under the bridge. Maybe it's best we got all that out of the way now eh?
Stephanie Connor: (as if thinking) Yeah...
Johnny Storm: Well...I'll see you in Toronto then?
Stephanie Connor: Um...oh...Yeah.
::Stephanie turns, and starts back within the suite....stopping off to slip her high heel's back on, before she heads out the door. Storm steps into the sliding glass door, and watches her as she leaves. When she reaches the door, she turns to say something to him....but Storm simply nods.::
Johnny Storm: Good luck on Sunday Steph....
Stephanie Connor: Yeah Johnny....You too.
::With that she exits, and makes her way down the hallway to get back to her daughter. The Daughter she had with Trace. Storm stands in the door way for a few more moments in contemplation of what just happend.......and then himself steps into the room, and plops down on the couch. Turning his attention to a movie rather than his own f*cked up life.::
**Frozen. Inside I am frozen. Like a candle in the wind I am forced to burn at both ends. Just to survive one more night as the best. But I can not whither. I can not die. I am the immortal given flesh. I am the absolute key, to your eternal question. I am your absolute reckoning. I am your friend. I am your enemy. I am your invisiable line. The one you cross when you are at your wits end. I am the begining to all things. I am the end only to you. I am burning inside with a desire. Your desire burns the seat of my pants. I need all things explained. I explain all things to you. Everything you ever needed to know. All answers that were hidden deep inside. I am your vessel. An object of sturdy mass. A splitting piece of wood. Splinter embedded within your skin. Blood pouring down your face. The rag that whipes you clean. The water that renses your soul. The final product given life. The one that revises what kind of product you will be. I confuse you. I make you understand. You give me your problems. I give you my advice. I carry you on my back. One more mile I trek. The eyes of the many are on me. The eyes of the few are on you. Those eyes are one and the same. They are different in every way. Your weight is dragging me down. My strength is holding me up. My tears are in vain. You will feel everything done to you by me. If I could melt your heart what would I find. My heart has been torn apart from inside. You haunt my dreams. I haunt your dreams. I can hear you scratching at my door. I can hear myself as I hit the floor. You see only what you want to see. I see what is really there. My heart is open like a book. Yours is closed and pad locked. I am the wall in your path. You are the shit that I leave behind. I walk through you easily. You want to forget me completely. I am your future. You are my memory. I give myself to you. You take so selfishly. I carry the eternal flame. You carry this constant blame. You wish that you could be better than you are. I wish you could simply see. My endeavors. Your gain. My sacrifices. Your lack of acknowledgement. My Suffering. Your pleasure. My love. Given to another. My Hate. Directed towards you. I put on a show. You reflect it as your reality. You seem to forget where you come from. I know exactly where it is I've been. When I look in the mirror I see myself. When you look in the mirror you see me. You have made yourself a figment of your own imaginations. I have made myself my own reality. You want to be the leader, yet look to me for leadership. I have something you want to take. You have nothing that I need. I have everything that you love. You have everything that I hate. I want to taste your blood. You want to taste my gold. I want to sear your flesh. Like you've done mine before. I know where you are. The inner most secrets you have tried to hide. The place where I reside. Fear swells within you. Rage swells within me. Smelling it on the tip of your tongue. Watching as you leave me there to be hung. You are here as my test. I am here as a reminder of your failure. You couldn't stop me before. I can't stop myself now. You are a deer caught in the headlights of a Dodge. I am the Dodge blowing my horn in the dead of night. You have run out of time to get out of my way. I have run out of excuses for taking it easy on you. This path that you've chosen is short. The path that I've chosen is long. The path that we are both on is much to narrow. One of us will certainly have to be pushed off. I am a sturdy oak tree, standing tall and majestic. You are a thin leaf pine, swaying within the wind. You don't know where you began to fall. I don't know where I began to begin. You like to think you are the best. I know that I am the best. You wish that you could prove me wrong. It only fuels me to prove me right. Sunday millions pray to God. Sunday you will know defeat.
Burning. I am burning inside. I am losing all control over myself. You are losing all control over me. I am feeling better than ever. You are feeling kind of weak. I know who I am in this world. You know of what I speak. You want only what's best for you. I want only to be the best for me. I know what fuels me to continue. You know what fuels your constant conflict. You want to know when this struggle will end. I am begging for this struggle to begin. You feed off of me, wanting to be me. I feed off of you wanting to be me. I have the solution to your desires. You have the desires that require my solution. There can only be one. You want that to be you. But It is already me. This won't end till you are letting go. This won't end as long as I'm still holding on. I am like a prescription drug. You are merely over the counter. I am like a diamond. You are a lump of coal. I am like a brick of gold. You are like some nasty mold. I am like a stud in my prime. You are like a jack ass who is lacking pride. I am like a perfect weapon. You are a back firing disgrace. I am like a Coca Cola Classic. You are like a Sam's Choice drink. I am like a Firrarri. You are like a Ford Pinto. I am like a four coarse meal. You are like a kids meal at McDonalds. I am like a Rolex Watch. You are like a Timex Watch. I am like a Silver Dollar. You are like a Dime. I am like a bucket of Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream. You are like a pint of the Generic. I am like choclate milk. You are like the powdered kind. I am like a 747 Passenger Jet. You are like a Crop Duster Plane. I am like a constant reminder that you are not good enough. You are a constant reminder of why I am. I am like a Block Buster Film. You are like a film made in the back yard. I am like a Hero Sandwhich. You are like half a sandwhich made on moldy bread. I am like a piece of Bubblicous Bubble Gum. You are like the rock hard kind you find in Baseball Card Packs. I am like a refreshing drizzle. You are like an annoying rain. I am better than you. You are in denial of me. It doesn't matter how you wish you could change cause you won't. It doesn't matter how much you change, it won't change me. No matter where you go I am always with you. No matter where I go you are always forgotten. I am the ending to this story. You are merely a part thought up along the way. You are the mistakes seen after an over paid paint job. I am the touch up used to make you look better. You are the ones who are clawing for solid ground. I am the waves that knock you back into deeper water. You are trying your best to stay above surface. I am trying my best to get you to drown. You are the one kicking hard just to tread. I am the undertow keeping you down. You are realizing now that you can't beat me. I am realizing now that I knew this all along. You are wishing there was a way out of this. I am wishing to close the door, trapping you forever. You are wanting this fear to subside. I am wanting that fear to move up your spine. You are contemplating on crying. I am contemplating on making you feel like your dieing. You are lost within yourself. I can see through you like most everyone else. You think now that this was a mistake. I know now that you are a complete disgrace. I am your everything. I am your nothing. I am your champion. I am the one you must try & defeat. But you can not. You will not. And when we stand out on the painted desert of red. Blood pouring down our faces. I will still be your champion. And you will still be my bitches.**
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