Post by soulreaver on Mar 12, 2020 23:39:43 GMT -5
“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.”
Khalil Gibran
A man sits in an electric wheelchair. Oxygen tubes rub to his nose. A computer screen sits a foot away from his face. The scene is still and quiet. A nurse is nearby checking the oxygen lines and preparing the next round of medications. The man sits completely still. His eyes being the only part of him showing any signs of life. They dart and dash back and forth. The computer screen in front of him flashes and the reflection can be seen in his glasses.
Khalil Gibran
A man sits in an electric wheelchair. Oxygen tubes rub to his nose. A computer screen sits a foot away from his face. The scene is still and quiet. A nurse is nearby checking the oxygen lines and preparing the next round of medications. The man sits completely still. His eyes being the only part of him showing any signs of life. They dart and dash back and forth. The computer screen in front of him flashes and the reflection can be seen in his glasses.
--Dr. Thomas Fischer--
“My body is nothing more than a vessel for my mind. It became that way many, many years ago. When your body breaks down as mine has done, there is a period of adjustment. Resentment. Anger. Hope. Despair. Denial. A myriad of emotions follow a diagnosis such as mine. You blame God, only to realize later that there is no god. A just, loving god would never take away a man’s ability to function at the most basic of levels.”
“For many years I wallowed in darkness. I was miserable. I refused to accept the reality that lay in front of me. You can only remain in a state of denial for so long. This state was my new reality. So I had a choice to make. Give up or persevere. Two choices. Two different paths. Two different lives. Two different endings. Giving up was never an option.”
Fisher’s nurse dabs a small pool of salvia that has formed at the corner of the doctor’s lips.
“Losing the ability to walk was difficult. Losing the ability to move my arms and hands was devastating. But losing my voice and with it the ability to communicate was the most difficult and excruciating part of this diagnosis. Having your thoughts trapped in your mind is enough to drive anyone to the brink of madness. Technology has allowed me to escape that madness.”
“Through the use of this sophisticated device I am able to speak again. It may not be my natural voice, but it does allow me to express myself clearly. Thoughts can be conveyed. Requests can be accommodated. My voice can be heard again.”
The electronic voice falls silent. Thomas Fischer’s eyes move quickly as the computer sensors track the movement. Fischer’s wheelchair turns and rolls across the room. On the wall in front of him hangs diplomas, photographs and a plethora of other awards. Symbols of a life well lived.
“Getting a voice was just the first part of a long process. A voice would make getting my basic needs met. I was able to communicate. But I found myself unfulfilled. I longed to have the same impact that I had before the diagnosis. For many years I dedicated my time, my energy, and my voice to helping others. I built charities from the ground up. I fed the hungry and found homes for the homeless. I worked with the poor and the disenfranchised. I was an ally for those in need. The wall in front of me captures some of that work. Many of my evenings were spent in front of this wall. Searching for fulfillment. Fulfillment that would never come.”
An explosion of sound fills the speakers. Frames come crashing off the wall as a giants fists slam against them time and time again. The first belong to the man we met at Monday Night Metal. Soul Reaver rips every single award and picture off the wall. He steps back and slams his leg into the wall. An enormous crack appears as the entire room seems to shake. Soul Reaver continues to pound the wall. Hole after hole is punched. Reaver breathes heavily as the onslaught continues.
“That is enough.”
Fisher’s voice has an instant impact on Soul Reaver. He stops assaulting the wall immediately and turns to face the wheelchair bound man. Fisher spins his chair around so that he and Reaver are both facing the camera.
“Living life devoted to others was supposed to bring me fulfillment. It was supposed to make my life better. But as the lives of everyone got better I was stuck in this chair deteriorating. This disease opened my eyes. It forced me to watch what was really happening. As I was stuck in a useless body, I witnessed countless others waste their lives. I gave these people everything. I wasted my time, energy and money on people who didn’t deserve any of it. The homeless junkie who promised he was going to change ended up back on the streets with a needle in his arm. The woman that came to our shelter in the middle of a night after a tussle with her husband begged and pleaded for help. I gave her everything she needed. A better life was handed to her. Three weeks later her husband put her in the hospital. And unfortunately these stories were not unique. Everywhere I looked I found examples of people throwing their lives away.”
“I would give anything for a cure. I would give anything to have my life back. How can these people not see how much I did for them? If they can’t see it for themselves I will show them. I will force their eyes open and expose them as the worthless pieces of shit that they are. Now I am nothing more than a brain. I am nothing more than a digitized voice. But Soul Reaver is the force I need to impose my will. Soul Reaver is the monster that I need to destroy those who are wasting oxygen. I am the voice and he is my weapon of mass destruction.”
“Ask Eli Beazley what Soul Reaver is capable of. Ask him how it feels to be exposed to brute strength. Ask him what it is like to wonder if the abuse will ever stop. Ask him what it feels like to be helpless in the hands of my monster. And let Eli know that Soul Reaver was instructed to only send a message. That was not Soul Reaver at full strength. He was not sent out there to destroy Eli Beazley. If I told Soul Reaver to destroy Eli Beazley he would have a lot more than a few bumps and bruises.”
“Now that we are here Alpha Pro Wrestling will never be the same. Now that we have partnered with Jason Ryan and Aaron Blaze we will rid this company of the filth that makes up most of the roster. Jason and Aaron understand, as do I, that a purge of the APW roster must occur. There are low lifes and degenerates aplenty in this company. If we ever want to see APW reach the level that it is capable of, then we need the Bloodline to get us there. The Bloodline will run this place and my monster, Soul Reaver, will be the wrecking ball that tears down the walls. After all you have to tear down a decrepit building to make room for an immaculate one.”
“We’re coming. Consider yourselves warned.”
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“My body is nothing more than a vessel for my mind. It became that way many, many years ago. When your body breaks down as mine has done, there is a period of adjustment. Resentment. Anger. Hope. Despair. Denial. A myriad of emotions follow a diagnosis such as mine. You blame God, only to realize later that there is no god. A just, loving god would never take away a man’s ability to function at the most basic of levels.”
“For many years I wallowed in darkness. I was miserable. I refused to accept the reality that lay in front of me. You can only remain in a state of denial for so long. This state was my new reality. So I had a choice to make. Give up or persevere. Two choices. Two different paths. Two different lives. Two different endings. Giving up was never an option.”
Fisher’s nurse dabs a small pool of salvia that has formed at the corner of the doctor’s lips.
“Losing the ability to walk was difficult. Losing the ability to move my arms and hands was devastating. But losing my voice and with it the ability to communicate was the most difficult and excruciating part of this diagnosis. Having your thoughts trapped in your mind is enough to drive anyone to the brink of madness. Technology has allowed me to escape that madness.”
“Through the use of this sophisticated device I am able to speak again. It may not be my natural voice, but it does allow me to express myself clearly. Thoughts can be conveyed. Requests can be accommodated. My voice can be heard again.”
The electronic voice falls silent. Thomas Fischer’s eyes move quickly as the computer sensors track the movement. Fischer’s wheelchair turns and rolls across the room. On the wall in front of him hangs diplomas, photographs and a plethora of other awards. Symbols of a life well lived.
“Getting a voice was just the first part of a long process. A voice would make getting my basic needs met. I was able to communicate. But I found myself unfulfilled. I longed to have the same impact that I had before the diagnosis. For many years I dedicated my time, my energy, and my voice to helping others. I built charities from the ground up. I fed the hungry and found homes for the homeless. I worked with the poor and the disenfranchised. I was an ally for those in need. The wall in front of me captures some of that work. Many of my evenings were spent in front of this wall. Searching for fulfillment. Fulfillment that would never come.”
An explosion of sound fills the speakers. Frames come crashing off the wall as a giants fists slam against them time and time again. The first belong to the man we met at Monday Night Metal. Soul Reaver rips every single award and picture off the wall. He steps back and slams his leg into the wall. An enormous crack appears as the entire room seems to shake. Soul Reaver continues to pound the wall. Hole after hole is punched. Reaver breathes heavily as the onslaught continues.
“That is enough.”
Fisher’s voice has an instant impact on Soul Reaver. He stops assaulting the wall immediately and turns to face the wheelchair bound man. Fisher spins his chair around so that he and Reaver are both facing the camera.
“Living life devoted to others was supposed to bring me fulfillment. It was supposed to make my life better. But as the lives of everyone got better I was stuck in this chair deteriorating. This disease opened my eyes. It forced me to watch what was really happening. As I was stuck in a useless body, I witnessed countless others waste their lives. I gave these people everything. I wasted my time, energy and money on people who didn’t deserve any of it. The homeless junkie who promised he was going to change ended up back on the streets with a needle in his arm. The woman that came to our shelter in the middle of a night after a tussle with her husband begged and pleaded for help. I gave her everything she needed. A better life was handed to her. Three weeks later her husband put her in the hospital. And unfortunately these stories were not unique. Everywhere I looked I found examples of people throwing their lives away.”
“I would give anything for a cure. I would give anything to have my life back. How can these people not see how much I did for them? If they can’t see it for themselves I will show them. I will force their eyes open and expose them as the worthless pieces of shit that they are. Now I am nothing more than a brain. I am nothing more than a digitized voice. But Soul Reaver is the force I need to impose my will. Soul Reaver is the monster that I need to destroy those who are wasting oxygen. I am the voice and he is my weapon of mass destruction.”
“Ask Eli Beazley what Soul Reaver is capable of. Ask him how it feels to be exposed to brute strength. Ask him what it is like to wonder if the abuse will ever stop. Ask him what it feels like to be helpless in the hands of my monster. And let Eli know that Soul Reaver was instructed to only send a message. That was not Soul Reaver at full strength. He was not sent out there to destroy Eli Beazley. If I told Soul Reaver to destroy Eli Beazley he would have a lot more than a few bumps and bruises.”
“Now that we are here Alpha Pro Wrestling will never be the same. Now that we have partnered with Jason Ryan and Aaron Blaze we will rid this company of the filth that makes up most of the roster. Jason and Aaron understand, as do I, that a purge of the APW roster must occur. There are low lifes and degenerates aplenty in this company. If we ever want to see APW reach the level that it is capable of, then we need the Bloodline to get us there. The Bloodline will run this place and my monster, Soul Reaver, will be the wrecking ball that tears down the walls. After all you have to tear down a decrepit building to make room for an immaculate one.”
“We’re coming. Consider yourselves warned.”
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