Post by Dominik Santiago on Apr 24, 2012 0:08:50 GMT -5
(OOC: This is the aftermath of the GHW Championship match between Dominik Santiago and Ryan Hughes. I elected to give this match a proper finish to make up for our minimal match posts, so its a long read. Hopefully you'll enjoy it, and the treat afterward.)
Santiago convulses on the bone cold padded floor, both his solarplexus and lower back in unspeakable pain from the fall and the maneuver itself. The deliver of the spear climbs to his knees, his ego beginning to inflate as he can sense the end drawing near for his hated adversary. The patrons packing the arena are nauseated at the sight, and the ambiance consuming them, a completely dysphoric one. The GHW Champion begins to stand, glowing with elated arrogance, commencing to lean over and grab around the skull of his foe. With his opponent's cranium tightly grasped between his fingertips, Hughes lifts the Assassin to a vertical base before rolling him into the squared hell. The Englishman slides in himself before regaining a state of full verticality, slowly sizing up the Californian as he begins to stir. He performs a cut-throat gesture, quickly slashing his thumb across his throat, insinuating Santiago's fate, sending the crowd into a tumultuous uproar of boos and jeers, disgusted by the self proclaimed "Gentleman's" narcissism. Their negativity falls on deaf ears, the defending champion completely focused as he skulks behind his prey, eyes narrowed, teeth gritted, fully immersed in the proverbial "zone." The groggy challenger stumbles to his feet, eyes weary, in a blinding, painful haze created by the damage his body has sustained. And the haze leaves him vulnerable, allowing Hughes to take full advantage. Unable to wait any longer, Ryan goes on the attack, quickly spinning Dominik around before squating and reaching between his buckling legs and scooping him up. Having been playing possum, or aware of Hughes' intentions, Dom begins to squirm, managing to escape Ryan's grasp, and ending up behind him upon sliding down his back.
The shift in momentum leaves Santiago staggering, the former champion unable to take advantage of the situation. This leaves Hughes able to regain his bearings, and re-position himself. He turns around swiftly, before launching himself at his slightly disoriented nemesis, his arm being cocked back behind him, his gaping mouth releasing a rebel yell, intimating his intensity. The GHW icon avoids the Clothesline, ducking underneath the arrogant Englishman's swinging arm, before lifting a knee and maliciously driving it into his midsection. As Hughes doubles over, Dominik quickly applies a Cravate, wrapping his claws around the champion's head, wrenching his neck and leaving him immobilized. Seething with rage, and burning with a deep rooted desire to inflict pain, the Californian bombards his adversaries cranium with a series of stiff knee strikes, each one more vile, and thunderous than its predecessor. The crowd cheers Hughes' public dismemberment, the Mancunian Mastadon knees beginning to jelly as his head becomes numb with pain. A fifth knee strike connects with a withering force, satisfying the challenger, and softening Ryan up enough to prompt Dominik to go for the kill. Dominik immediately applies a Gutwrench, before hoisting his foe's battered carcass onto his shoulders. The Assassin rolls Hughes over, dropping him off his shoulder before lifting and bending his leg into the air, delivering one final knee strike to the champion's already dented cerebrum. The crowd erupts into unanimous cheers, the Cerebral Buzzkill connecting with a sickening impact. Ryan staggers back into the ropes from the momentum, his head hanging awkwardly from being planted into Dom's knee bone. He collapses into the middle rope, commencing to recline back and almost falling out of the ring. His towering frame prevents his unceremonious exit, and the elasticity of the cables ricochet him forward. Perturbing his opponent, Ryan bounces off the ropes with tremendous vigor, having somehow channeled a second wind from deep within. With new gas in his tank he charges at the Assassin, the two quickly meeting in the center of the ring - with Santiago's face being acquainted with the Englishman's boot, his mug being brutally smashed in a fashion GHW has been familiarized with.
Big Al: "BIG FUCKING KICK TO THE HEAD! That's how you answer an onslaught!"
Jennings: "Santiago scored with his trademark Knee Strike, but Hughes delivers the BFK2H out of nowhere. I'm speechless."
Oliveira: "And we're about three seconds away from hearing James Hetfield. "
The fatigued champion begins crawling toward his sprawling foe, sweating profusely, leaving a puddle on each spot of the canvas he slithers across. Hughes doesn't even bother to hook Dominik's legs, too beaten, too punch-drunk, and too sure of himself. He simply collapses across Santiago's chest, resting on him as the referee begins his count.
"ONE..."
"TWO..."
Almost in defiance, Dominik musters enough might to roll his shoulder over, the crowd immediately rising to its feet and responding with vehement cheers. Ryan rolls onto his back, eyes staring up at the ceiling lights, his facial expression a mixture of frustration and disbelief.
"I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! HE KICKED OUT!"
"And I know what Hughes is feeling. No matter what you throw at him, the guy refuses to quit, refuses to lose, refuses to die!"
"Fine. He'll just have to kill the bastard!"
Hughes climbs up to his knees, fingers running through his brown hair, the Briton visibly exasperated, lips trembling with undeniable rage. The boiling and seething comes to a sudden cease, the GHW Champion having suppressed his anger, and cleared his mind, if only momentarily. With a specific vision and goal in mind, the Englishman yells at his downed rival.
"...One more then, for old times sake!"
He pushes himself to a vertical base before dropping in the corner, his head titled downward, hair slightly covering his eyes. With his hands grasping either side of the ropes he begins stamping his feet on the canvas, and then slides one back, imitating a bull before its charge. The posturing and mannerisms convey his craziness and intensity, the champ shouting "COME ON" repeatedly, almost begging the stirring challenger to lift his head. Dominik gradually climbs to his feet, saliva hanging from his lips, sweat cascading from both brows, visibly weakened by Hughes' previous maneuver and looking like a man on his last leg. Albeit struggling, Santiago begins to turn, Hughes already midway through his charge, slowly lifting his leg up to attempt another cranium shattering kick. This time the wary Californian manages to dodge the BFK2H, deftly sidestepping, and falling into a crouching stance. Coiled like a viper ready to strike at its victim, Santiago surveys his target, Hughes quickly and obliviously spinning around. With the window to attack closing fast Dom attacks hastily, slightly turning his back and reaching behind his body at Hughes' head. Almost expecting the maneuver, Hughes seizes Dominik's flailing arm, and drags him to the canvas with it. With the Californian on his chest the Englishman scissors the captured arm, before encircling Dom's head with his arms and clasping his hands around his face. He commences to wrench the challenger's head backward, pulling with tremendous might, his intensity induced by his desperation to put the Lord of the Flies away.
"NA, NA, NA, NA, NA, NA, NA, NA...BATMAN!"
"The Batman Lock is locked in. Santiago may be forced to submit here.
"A brilliant counter to the SKO. Now the challenger has his back against the wall. How will he escape this?"
Dominik refuses to succumb to the pressure, the crowd continuing to cheer on the fan favorite as he begins crawling toward the ropes. Hughes maintains his grip, cranking his foe's head back even further, the pain being inflicted excruciating, yet the challenger is forced to bear it. The afflicted Assassin stretches his arm out, his fingertips mere inches away from the ring cables. He gives one last push, sliding his chest off the canvas, allowing him to make up the difference, his arm being hung around the bottom rope to feverish cheers. Ryan releases his hold and rolls to his stomach and balls his fists, slamming them into the canvas, enraged by his rival's tenacity, and frustrated with himself and the fact that he's thrown everything at him but can't put him away. Ryan sluggishly climbs back to his feet, leaning into the ropes, taking a long, drawn out breath before approaching his facedown foe. He leans over and grabs the GHW Icon by his neck, before dragging him to a vertical base. He tosses him into the turnbuckle, and smashes his knee into Santiago's stomach, withdrawing whatever air and energy was left inside. He then hoists him onto the turnbuckle, making sure he is perched properly before ascending up. Hughes throws Dom's arm over his shoulder, and locks his head in his armpit before attempting to hoist him up, but to no avail - Dominik holding the ring ropes for dear life, preventing himself from being Superplexed into oblivion. Hughes goes for a second, and a third attempt, each failing miserably, every attempt thwarted like the one preceding it. Dominik slides his head free from the facelock, quickly driving an elbow into the Mancunian's jaw, leaving his head hanging askew. He follows up with an elbow strike to the midsection, enervating the champion, before pulling his head down and smashing it into the turnbuckle. With Hughes in trouble, Santiago applies a waistlock, before flipping forward to the canvas. Despite the Assassin's last offensive strikes, Hughes has the wits to grab onto the ropes, denying the Lord of the Flies the satisfaction of breaking him in half with a Powerbomb. With the former King of Deathmatches unable to pull him off, the Briton begins raining down piston like fists across his foe's forehead, forcing him to relinquish his grasp and sending him crumbling to the canvas in befuddlement. Dominik rolls into the center of the ring, and slowly turns onto his chest, his face buried in the canvas, meanwhile Hughes stands still at the top of the mountain, not completely sure of his next plan of attack. As Santiago begins to rise Hughes leaps off the turnbuckle, turning his body back to the ring in a half-thought out, ill-advised aerial maneuver. The Assassin lifts his head as Hughes' frame casts a silhouette over his body. Thinking quick on his feet, the Californian turns swiftly, slowly falling supinely to the mat, whilst catching the plummeting Brit in a three-quarter facelock. The roof of the building is blown off, the sound around the arena a perfect pandemonium of cheers. The electricity in the venue is tenfold, as Santiago stares up at the rafters, meanwhile the champion's frame remains motionless, rendered inert from having his head planted into the mat.
"THE BATMAN JUST FLEW....STRAIGHT INTO THE SKO! HOLY SHIT!
"OUT OF FUCKING NOWHERE. HE JUST CUTTERED HIS BRAINS OUT!"
"This can't be happening, not again!"
With his muscles stiffening, and sweat blurring his vision, Santiago slowly turns over onto his belly, before lifting up and sitting on all fours. With every ounce of strength left he rolls the Batmanite over, before collapsing across the pulsating chest of the Englishman. He limply hooks Hughes' leg, the referee quickly sliding to the canvas and slapping his hand across the mat. As various members of the audience continue to cheer synchronically, other members chant along.
"ONE..."
"TWO..."
"THREE!"
Santiago slides off of Hughes' lifeless carcass as the ring bell chimes thrice. He rests his head on the mat, unblinking, mouth gaped appearing as if concussed.
"Your winner, and the NEWWWWW GHW CHAMPION.....DOMINIK SANTIAGOOOOOOO!!!"
"Crash" by Decypher Down hits the PA, almost being drowned out by the ruckus fanfare of the GHW faithful. The battle weary Assassin finally begins moving, crawling to the ropes, using them to lift himself to a vertical base. He teeters on his feet, barely able to stand, using the top cable as a crutch to keep him upright. The referee grabs his nearest hand, thrusting it into the electric atmosphere, before burying the fifteen pound prize Santiago just battled for into the new champion's chest.
"He's done it! Dominik Santiago has recaptured the GHW Championship! What a match!
"And more importantly, his fourth Heavyweight Championship. That's an iconic feat!"
"The Karma Police have just arrested Ryan Hughes, and he was prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. And the result, that scoundrel, Dominik Santiago, is once again the Top Dog! I'm sick right now.
The ex-champion is slowly rolled under the bottom rope by the referee who attempts to check on him. Hughes quietly exits the squared hell, his face stricken with both pain and shame. With his hand gingerly holding his neck the Mancunian marches toward the back, the fans not even acknowledging his existence, reducing him to a mere afterthought. Dominik plods to the first ring post, energy slowly being returned back to his sweaty frame. He climbs to the second turnbuckle, hoisting his newly won championship into the air pridefully, and with both hands. The cheers continue to reign in, the champion mustering enough strength in his facial muscles to crack a smile.
"Just think, five years ago nobody thought Dominik Santiago would ever reach this level. I was one of those doubters. Now I watch in amazement as he continues to carry the torch guys like Vladimir Strife, Metal Dragon, and even myself have given him."
"And it burns bright Matthew, it burns bright."
"This is one of those bad dreams that you wake up to, and realize you were never dreaming in the first place. Unbelievable."
Dominik climbs down from the corner, staggering into the center of the ring before dropping to a knee. He throws a fist into the air evoking another chorus of cheers. Then like a true showman, he raises the GHW Championship back into the air, the teaming masses continuing to cheer. The most memorable night of Santiago's career had come to fruition. He had defeated one of his greatest rivals, and had regained his coveted championship. This was his finest moment, and nothing could ruin this occasion...
TBCB They Know Who
Santiago convulses on the bone cold padded floor, both his solarplexus and lower back in unspeakable pain from the fall and the maneuver itself. The deliver of the spear climbs to his knees, his ego beginning to inflate as he can sense the end drawing near for his hated adversary. The patrons packing the arena are nauseated at the sight, and the ambiance consuming them, a completely dysphoric one. The GHW Champion begins to stand, glowing with elated arrogance, commencing to lean over and grab around the skull of his foe. With his opponent's cranium tightly grasped between his fingertips, Hughes lifts the Assassin to a vertical base before rolling him into the squared hell. The Englishman slides in himself before regaining a state of full verticality, slowly sizing up the Californian as he begins to stir. He performs a cut-throat gesture, quickly slashing his thumb across his throat, insinuating Santiago's fate, sending the crowd into a tumultuous uproar of boos and jeers, disgusted by the self proclaimed "Gentleman's" narcissism. Their negativity falls on deaf ears, the defending champion completely focused as he skulks behind his prey, eyes narrowed, teeth gritted, fully immersed in the proverbial "zone." The groggy challenger stumbles to his feet, eyes weary, in a blinding, painful haze created by the damage his body has sustained. And the haze leaves him vulnerable, allowing Hughes to take full advantage. Unable to wait any longer, Ryan goes on the attack, quickly spinning Dominik around before squating and reaching between his buckling legs and scooping him up. Having been playing possum, or aware of Hughes' intentions, Dom begins to squirm, managing to escape Ryan's grasp, and ending up behind him upon sliding down his back.
The shift in momentum leaves Santiago staggering, the former champion unable to take advantage of the situation. This leaves Hughes able to regain his bearings, and re-position himself. He turns around swiftly, before launching himself at his slightly disoriented nemesis, his arm being cocked back behind him, his gaping mouth releasing a rebel yell, intimating his intensity. The GHW icon avoids the Clothesline, ducking underneath the arrogant Englishman's swinging arm, before lifting a knee and maliciously driving it into his midsection. As Hughes doubles over, Dominik quickly applies a Cravate, wrapping his claws around the champion's head, wrenching his neck and leaving him immobilized. Seething with rage, and burning with a deep rooted desire to inflict pain, the Californian bombards his adversaries cranium with a series of stiff knee strikes, each one more vile, and thunderous than its predecessor. The crowd cheers Hughes' public dismemberment, the Mancunian Mastadon knees beginning to jelly as his head becomes numb with pain. A fifth knee strike connects with a withering force, satisfying the challenger, and softening Ryan up enough to prompt Dominik to go for the kill. Dominik immediately applies a Gutwrench, before hoisting his foe's battered carcass onto his shoulders. The Assassin rolls Hughes over, dropping him off his shoulder before lifting and bending his leg into the air, delivering one final knee strike to the champion's already dented cerebrum. The crowd erupts into unanimous cheers, the Cerebral Buzzkill connecting with a sickening impact. Ryan staggers back into the ropes from the momentum, his head hanging awkwardly from being planted into Dom's knee bone. He collapses into the middle rope, commencing to recline back and almost falling out of the ring. His towering frame prevents his unceremonious exit, and the elasticity of the cables ricochet him forward. Perturbing his opponent, Ryan bounces off the ropes with tremendous vigor, having somehow channeled a second wind from deep within. With new gas in his tank he charges at the Assassin, the two quickly meeting in the center of the ring - with Santiago's face being acquainted with the Englishman's boot, his mug being brutally smashed in a fashion GHW has been familiarized with.
Big Al: "BIG FUCKING KICK TO THE HEAD! That's how you answer an onslaught!"
Jennings: "Santiago scored with his trademark Knee Strike, but Hughes delivers the BFK2H out of nowhere. I'm speechless."
Oliveira: "And we're about three seconds away from hearing James Hetfield. "
The fatigued champion begins crawling toward his sprawling foe, sweating profusely, leaving a puddle on each spot of the canvas he slithers across. Hughes doesn't even bother to hook Dominik's legs, too beaten, too punch-drunk, and too sure of himself. He simply collapses across Santiago's chest, resting on him as the referee begins his count.
"ONE..."
"TWO..."
Almost in defiance, Dominik musters enough might to roll his shoulder over, the crowd immediately rising to its feet and responding with vehement cheers. Ryan rolls onto his back, eyes staring up at the ceiling lights, his facial expression a mixture of frustration and disbelief.
"I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! HE KICKED OUT!"
"And I know what Hughes is feeling. No matter what you throw at him, the guy refuses to quit, refuses to lose, refuses to die!"
"Fine. He'll just have to kill the bastard!"
Hughes climbs up to his knees, fingers running through his brown hair, the Briton visibly exasperated, lips trembling with undeniable rage. The boiling and seething comes to a sudden cease, the GHW Champion having suppressed his anger, and cleared his mind, if only momentarily. With a specific vision and goal in mind, the Englishman yells at his downed rival.
"...One more then, for old times sake!"
He pushes himself to a vertical base before dropping in the corner, his head titled downward, hair slightly covering his eyes. With his hands grasping either side of the ropes he begins stamping his feet on the canvas, and then slides one back, imitating a bull before its charge. The posturing and mannerisms convey his craziness and intensity, the champ shouting "COME ON" repeatedly, almost begging the stirring challenger to lift his head. Dominik gradually climbs to his feet, saliva hanging from his lips, sweat cascading from both brows, visibly weakened by Hughes' previous maneuver and looking like a man on his last leg. Albeit struggling, Santiago begins to turn, Hughes already midway through his charge, slowly lifting his leg up to attempt another cranium shattering kick. This time the wary Californian manages to dodge the BFK2H, deftly sidestepping, and falling into a crouching stance. Coiled like a viper ready to strike at its victim, Santiago surveys his target, Hughes quickly and obliviously spinning around. With the window to attack closing fast Dom attacks hastily, slightly turning his back and reaching behind his body at Hughes' head. Almost expecting the maneuver, Hughes seizes Dominik's flailing arm, and drags him to the canvas with it. With the Californian on his chest the Englishman scissors the captured arm, before encircling Dom's head with his arms and clasping his hands around his face. He commences to wrench the challenger's head backward, pulling with tremendous might, his intensity induced by his desperation to put the Lord of the Flies away.
"NA, NA, NA, NA, NA, NA, NA, NA...BATMAN!"
"The Batman Lock is locked in. Santiago may be forced to submit here.
"A brilliant counter to the SKO. Now the challenger has his back against the wall. How will he escape this?"
Dominik refuses to succumb to the pressure, the crowd continuing to cheer on the fan favorite as he begins crawling toward the ropes. Hughes maintains his grip, cranking his foe's head back even further, the pain being inflicted excruciating, yet the challenger is forced to bear it. The afflicted Assassin stretches his arm out, his fingertips mere inches away from the ring cables. He gives one last push, sliding his chest off the canvas, allowing him to make up the difference, his arm being hung around the bottom rope to feverish cheers. Ryan releases his hold and rolls to his stomach and balls his fists, slamming them into the canvas, enraged by his rival's tenacity, and frustrated with himself and the fact that he's thrown everything at him but can't put him away. Ryan sluggishly climbs back to his feet, leaning into the ropes, taking a long, drawn out breath before approaching his facedown foe. He leans over and grabs the GHW Icon by his neck, before dragging him to a vertical base. He tosses him into the turnbuckle, and smashes his knee into Santiago's stomach, withdrawing whatever air and energy was left inside. He then hoists him onto the turnbuckle, making sure he is perched properly before ascending up. Hughes throws Dom's arm over his shoulder, and locks his head in his armpit before attempting to hoist him up, but to no avail - Dominik holding the ring ropes for dear life, preventing himself from being Superplexed into oblivion. Hughes goes for a second, and a third attempt, each failing miserably, every attempt thwarted like the one preceding it. Dominik slides his head free from the facelock, quickly driving an elbow into the Mancunian's jaw, leaving his head hanging askew. He follows up with an elbow strike to the midsection, enervating the champion, before pulling his head down and smashing it into the turnbuckle. With Hughes in trouble, Santiago applies a waistlock, before flipping forward to the canvas. Despite the Assassin's last offensive strikes, Hughes has the wits to grab onto the ropes, denying the Lord of the Flies the satisfaction of breaking him in half with a Powerbomb. With the former King of Deathmatches unable to pull him off, the Briton begins raining down piston like fists across his foe's forehead, forcing him to relinquish his grasp and sending him crumbling to the canvas in befuddlement. Dominik rolls into the center of the ring, and slowly turns onto his chest, his face buried in the canvas, meanwhile Hughes stands still at the top of the mountain, not completely sure of his next plan of attack. As Santiago begins to rise Hughes leaps off the turnbuckle, turning his body back to the ring in a half-thought out, ill-advised aerial maneuver. The Assassin lifts his head as Hughes' frame casts a silhouette over his body. Thinking quick on his feet, the Californian turns swiftly, slowly falling supinely to the mat, whilst catching the plummeting Brit in a three-quarter facelock. The roof of the building is blown off, the sound around the arena a perfect pandemonium of cheers. The electricity in the venue is tenfold, as Santiago stares up at the rafters, meanwhile the champion's frame remains motionless, rendered inert from having his head planted into the mat.
"THE BATMAN JUST FLEW....STRAIGHT INTO THE SKO! HOLY SHIT!
"OUT OF FUCKING NOWHERE. HE JUST CUTTERED HIS BRAINS OUT!"
"This can't be happening, not again!"
With his muscles stiffening, and sweat blurring his vision, Santiago slowly turns over onto his belly, before lifting up and sitting on all fours. With every ounce of strength left he rolls the Batmanite over, before collapsing across the pulsating chest of the Englishman. He limply hooks Hughes' leg, the referee quickly sliding to the canvas and slapping his hand across the mat. As various members of the audience continue to cheer synchronically, other members chant along.
"ONE..."
"TWO..."
"THREE!"
Santiago slides off of Hughes' lifeless carcass as the ring bell chimes thrice. He rests his head on the mat, unblinking, mouth gaped appearing as if concussed.
"Your winner, and the NEWWWWW GHW CHAMPION.....DOMINIK SANTIAGOOOOOOO!!!"
"Crash" by Decypher Down hits the PA, almost being drowned out by the ruckus fanfare of the GHW faithful. The battle weary Assassin finally begins moving, crawling to the ropes, using them to lift himself to a vertical base. He teeters on his feet, barely able to stand, using the top cable as a crutch to keep him upright. The referee grabs his nearest hand, thrusting it into the electric atmosphere, before burying the fifteen pound prize Santiago just battled for into the new champion's chest.
"He's done it! Dominik Santiago has recaptured the GHW Championship! What a match!
"And more importantly, his fourth Heavyweight Championship. That's an iconic feat!"
"The Karma Police have just arrested Ryan Hughes, and he was prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. And the result, that scoundrel, Dominik Santiago, is once again the Top Dog! I'm sick right now.
The ex-champion is slowly rolled under the bottom rope by the referee who attempts to check on him. Hughes quietly exits the squared hell, his face stricken with both pain and shame. With his hand gingerly holding his neck the Mancunian marches toward the back, the fans not even acknowledging his existence, reducing him to a mere afterthought. Dominik plods to the first ring post, energy slowly being returned back to his sweaty frame. He climbs to the second turnbuckle, hoisting his newly won championship into the air pridefully, and with both hands. The cheers continue to reign in, the champion mustering enough strength in his facial muscles to crack a smile.
"Just think, five years ago nobody thought Dominik Santiago would ever reach this level. I was one of those doubters. Now I watch in amazement as he continues to carry the torch guys like Vladimir Strife, Metal Dragon, and even myself have given him."
"And it burns bright Matthew, it burns bright."
"This is one of those bad dreams that you wake up to, and realize you were never dreaming in the first place. Unbelievable."
Dominik climbs down from the corner, staggering into the center of the ring before dropping to a knee. He throws a fist into the air evoking another chorus of cheers. Then like a true showman, he raises the GHW Championship back into the air, the teaming masses continuing to cheer. The most memorable night of Santiago's career had come to fruition. He had defeated one of his greatest rivals, and had regained his coveted championship. This was his finest moment, and nothing could ruin this occasion...
TBCB They Know Who
