Post by Andrew Barnes on Jul 29, 2020 10:54:19 GMT -5
Detroit, Michigan
Riverfront Towers Apartments
07/28/2020 6:44AM
A creaking noise from a ceiling fan opens up the scene, with a ray of sunshine blasts through the blinds, smacking Andrew Barnes in the face to wake him up. Spreading his arms and legs out from the covers, Andrew slowly lifts one eyelid open- letting the light blind his light blue eyes for a second. He lifts the covers off his body, showing off bruises and cuts from last night at Monday Night Metal against Oblivion. Andrew swings his legs off to the side and lowers his head to rub his eyes, getting the morning crust away to clear his vision. From the corner of his eye, he can see his phone has a little bulb flashing green from a text, "Please tell me Raging Dead is actually alive.." Andrew reaches over, his body aching all over with every inch towards the phone, until he finally grabs hold and swipes up to see the message.
"GUST IS DEAD. SOME MAGA CHICK IN XWF WANTS ME. AND I FOUND BLOOD IN MY STOOL...CALL ME!
- text from Johnny Legend"
- text from Johnny Legend"
His eyes rolling into the back of his head, Andrew Barnes turns his phone off and flops back down into his bed; looking up at the ceiling fan spin around and around.
"I really regret giving him my number." Andrew mutters to himself while rubbing his face up and down.
He stops and drops his arms to his side, "Alright, time to start the day, Andrew. Get up."
With those words, Andrew pushes himself up and sits down on the side of his bed. Oblivion's ruthless power was almost too much for Andrew Barnes, thanking his lucky stars that he was able to pull off victory with the luckiest sleeper ever. He knows full well that Oblivion had him, and the aches and pains today prove that Andrew Barnes might have lingering troubles going into his next match against another monster.. Soul Reaver.
"My first match and my body is already broken from IT. This second match against a seven foot, five-hundred pound of pure power they call Soul Reaver.. This is gonna fucking kill me." He remarks, while having trouble lifting his body up from to his feet.
Andrew Barnes gathers every ounce of strength to send his war-torn body off that bed, "Ahhhhh fuuuck." Andrew's face turns red from holding the painful screams back so he doesn't wake his neighbors. A few light shoulder and arm stretches, "Oooff." Andrew stops and lets out of huff of air, feeling the tingling in his back.
The scene cuts to the dark kitchen, where a hazy Andrew Barnes is dragging his feet towards the fridge, hoping he doesn't stub his toes. He finally makes it to the fridge and swings open the door to take out a carton of milk. Looking around, he shrugs and chugs it right there. With the orange glow from the open fridge surrounding his body, Andrew wipes the little milk that sits on the corner of his mouth off and walks away, letting the door shut itself as he makes his way to the living room. Flopping down on a brown leather couch, Andrew Barnes can feel the aches and pains in his body pulsate throughout his body.
The pain isn't fully on the match against Oblivion at Monday Night Metal. Andrew Barnes was also up most of last night working out, trying to burn off the rest of that adrenaline he had from defeating Oblivion. Something he didn't know he had it in him. Such a beast Oblivion was and still is. Thoughts of how he overcame such an obstacle begins to spread across Andrew's mind? He remembers extending his hand in peace before Monday Night Metal in his promo to Oblivion.
Thinking to himself, ".. Was that was the catalyst to my victory over Oblivion?" A little kindness can go far for sure, but there was something off in Oblivion that night. He was animal, that's no question, but a wrestler like Andrew Barnes shouldn't have defeated a force of reckoning the likes of Oblivion with a simple sleeper.
Andrew looks at his arms, "I don't even think I can get these around his neck. That is if I can reach up there to begin with."
"I was lucky against Oblivion. I don't think luck will hold up against someone like Soul Reaver. He'll probably toss it aside and call it overrated trash. No. I have to push myself even harder for this match!" Andrews' renew vigor appears, cutting through the pain, he jumps up from the couch and shoves the coffee table aside with his foot. Immediately, Andrew starts to do push ups with little effort. Burning through them one by one, he starts a quiet chant to himself, "You can.." Pushes up, "Do it."
The chants get louder and clearer with every set, repeating over and over, "YOU CAN DO IT!"
Sweat begins to drip, starting with a single bead dropping from Andrew's forehead as he busts out quicker and aggressive pushups until he finally hits the one hundred mark with two minutes.
SMACK
Andrew slaps the wooden floor and pops up to his feet. A sense of accomplishment in the morning is the wonderful thing to Andrew Barnes. Nothing like starting the day with a victory. He makes his way towards the nearest mirror to check himself out. The pain from the morning seems to disappear, Andrew swipes his right hand down his face, sweeping away the fresh sweat from his eyes while standing in front of the mirror.
"Soul Reaver may be a giant. He may have an annoying manager. He is still human, though. A giant is only a bigger target.. And these arms WILL get around that colossus neck of his. I CAN'T LET HIM INTIMIDATE ME. I WON'T GIVE UP. I CAN'T GIVE UP."
Andrew starts to pound his chest; a serious stare into his own eyes, "I'M NEVER GONNA GIVE UP!" He yells into the mirror as droplets of sweat smack off his chest when pounding.
"I WILL NOT FAIL!" He slaps himself.
"I WILL NOT FAIL!" He continues to slap himself.
"I WILL SUCCEED!" Andrew yells one last time with a few more slaps to the face for good measure.
The side of his face still red from the slaps, Andrew slips on some white running shoes, a white t-shirt, black shorts- Andrew Barnes takes one last look in the mirror. Motivation to prove himself against another giant is radiating inside his body. A new day and Andrew Barnes found the will he needs to go into Monday Night Metal with a winning attitude. Slowly, the scene fades away as Andrew Barnes opens the front door to go out for a morning jog. Once the door shuts behind him, the light that was blasting through the blinds begin to fade as well. Darkness begins to take control, as the sound of rain hits the window outside.
TWO HOURS LATER
Lightning breaks through the darkness. The scene opens back up to Andrew Barnes sitting on a wooden chair, watching the rain slide down the windows as he sits inside his dark living room apartment. A flash of lightning reveals a cold gaze upon Andrew's face, watching the force from the lightning spiral down to Earth. The pitch black slowly subsides to a dark gray, making it a little easier to see Andrew Barnes sitting there.
Motivation is gone. Reality sets in.
Andrew Barnes lowers his head and slowly brings it back up with a sigh of disappointment. Wet from running in the rain, Andrew wipes his face with a towel he has around his neck. He reaches over and turns on his cellphone to record a video for Soul Reaver and Johnny Class.
"Soul Reaver." Another flash of lightning across his face, "Oblivion may be a beast, but you sir, you're a mountain. A huge slab of solid rock, unshakable to the common man. You tower over everyone here in Alpha Pro Wrestling, including Oblivion. What in this world created such a being of such mass? Your manager Johnny Class must have went into the depths of hell to drag out such pure unwavering force. As honest as I can be, I had trouble with Oblivion. I'll admit to that. He almost shattered me with his brute strength and horrific demeanor. Yet, his downfall was a broken mind- split into two... Or maybe more? The doubt I had against defeating Oblivion melted away once I saw his movement in the ring. Like Frankenstein's Monster, he was but a broken mind, tearing itself apart. Soul Reaver on the other hand... The doubt doesn't seem to fade when looking at you and your past matches. That empty stare. The way you can easily lift any object to toss aside, as if it was a toy!? No. If Oblivion could almost break me, then my hopes of victory over you are slipping by the passing days, Soul Reaver. The victories others have over you come from talented superstars that are worthy of that win."
Andrew raises his right hand in a fist and starts naming off past superstars here in Alpha Pro, "L Verez." His pinkie rises.
"El Muertos." The ring fingers follows as Andrew continues.
"Aaron Osmosis." With the last one, he lifts his middle finger, showing off three fingers being held up for the camera.
A quick stare at the fingers, Andrew looks back into the camera, "These three were able to defeat you, Soul Reaver. I'll shove praise into that blank stare of yours until the cows come home. It's not gonna do anything until we finally meet in that ring come Monday Night Metal. Like I said, I have doubts, but learning your history has soften those doubts. When I saw you the first time, I was scared; I'm not afraid to say this. We all know you're a unique talent that deserves the spotlight. But what happens when the mystique fades? That spotlight? For people like you, Soul Reaver. They'll be inside a red and white stripe tent, with Johnny Class yelling at you to ride a tricycle around for children to point and laugh. It's a fucking joke."
He shakes his head.
"Speaking of jokes."
Andrew points to the camera on the phone, "Johnny Class."
He lowers his hand, "The man pulling all the strings. I know it's easy to manipulate the feeble, but to unleash them upon the world as if they are born of destruction and chaos? That's just horrible. Soul Reaver could do so much more than be a simple monster. He could help get kittens out of trees for old ladies or kids. Maybe join the firefighters and chuck barrels of water towards burning buildings? If he continues under your management, all that is left for him after his wrestling career will be a greeter at Sam's Club. I don't want this for Soul Reaver. He's better than this and you're holding him back, Class."
"Doing stupid little shows about what is overrated trash or not!?" Andrew chuckles and rubs his chin, "Oh... Are you afraid that one day he will finally realize that he doesn't need you?"
"Soul Reaver may break my will. Shit, he may even break my back. But, hopefully, he's not gonna break me in two when he finally starts thinking for himself, Class. You watch yourself. To unleash such a brute into the wrestling world, the only returns you're going to receive is a giant hand to the face when he finally finds out you're the overrated trash this whole time. Just pray for a better outcome than that bidet, Class. I mean... My God, man. He's gonna send you up his ass and into the world of Narnia!" The repulsive image of Soul Reaver sticking that bidet up his ass will continue to haunt Andrew Barnes, forever in his nightmares.
Andrew points to himself, "I have come to Alpha Pro Wrestling to better myself and to change the name Andrew Barnes into something other than lazy wrestling, drugs and cheap women from my father's past."
"Bringing up monsters. My father use to have control over me once. Then I found myself. His power of manipulation rivals yours, Johnny Class. I thought for a bit in my life that maybe I was wrong. Maybe a kind heart isn't made for this world; that the only way to get by is to bring others down, using their heads as stepping stones for your own personal glory and fame. I broke free of that, thought for myself, and along the way I was helping anyone I can. I don't expect to get through Soul Reaver and make him change. I can only steer him towards the right path. If he beats me, he will continue stomping out competition until he finally gobbles up the current Universial Champion."
Andrew checks his right arm, "My Mendacium will have no affect on a mountain. Only way to win is to chisel Soul Reaver down to my level, lock that sleeper of mine around that thick neck of his and hopefully have enough strength left to put this abomination to sleep. I call it an Error for a reason, Soul Reaver. If I lock it on you, then that will be your last mistake."
"... Then again, you could just grab my head and chuck me across the arena. My delusions of ever getting a win over you will constantly be thwarted by the very fact that you can just flop down on me for an easy pin. Five hundred pounds is a fuckton of weight to lift AND you're taller than anyone I have ever come across. I should really quit before you get the win without even stepping in the ring. That's how much power you control, Soul Reaver. Yet, you let a little man like Johnny Class boss you around? I just don't get it. Maybe I should delve deeper into your history? Or maybe I should just man up and deal with the outcome? Win or lose. I'm just hoping my body isn't in pieces after this match. That's all." A uncertain expression covers his face, as he reaches over to shut off the recording feature on his camera.
A shot of Andrew Barnes face lights up periodically, he sits back as lightning continues to strike outside; watching the bolts get fiercer every passing moment. Doubting his ability to handle Soul Reaver, and wondering if he needs to step up his workout routine. Either way, Andrew Barnes eyes lightening up as the bolts of lightning cascade down around his apartment building. The scene fades away as Andrew lowers his head, holding back the thoughts of losing this coming Monday.
