Post by Dustin Delta on Mar 23, 2013 20:45:12 GMT -5
The feed of GHW Thursday Night Triumph shifts from the squared circle and the crowded arena to the backstage area. In the bowels of the building, Dustin Delta sits on a steel chair, dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans and blue-and-white striped hoodie. His face is bruised a bit, but for the most part, seems decent enough. Upon his countenance rests a distant gaze – the 2012 Tower of London winner seems to be altogether ignorant of his surroundings. His expression says nothing, for he’s as blank as a canvas lacking an artist. Delta remains absolutely motionless – it would take one with keen eyesight to even take notice of his breathing. While the former King of the Deathmatch remains unaware, willingly or ,of the world around him, the superstar known as AJ Scally approaches. The GHW Championship challenger is flushed with disapproval towards Double D. Scally pulls over a steel chair, identical to Dustin’s, and sits directly in front of the former champion. AJ’s head slowly tilts over, as if his scalp was weighing it down. His eyelids draw nearer, creating a tense complexion from the contours of his face.
“You disgust me.” AJ remarks, shaking his head slightly to express his discontent. The words don’t seem to faze Dustin, who sits idly and does not visibly pay any mind to, or even notice, the presence of Scally. Regardless, the championship contender continues.
“You’re filthy. Repulsive. Pondscum, really. The fact that you’d walk into Jaggeroth’s office willingly because of some dumb broad? I don’t give a damn about friendship. You’re an idiot to go anywhere near that son of a bitch, especially after the dumb actions you pulled. You know what’s even dumber than that, Delta? The fact that you’re even friends with a bitch like Haven. But I guess it’s too late to warn you. You see now, don’t you? She’s no good. What kind of friend is she, Dustin? When she doesn’t get her way, she whines to the big monster hiding in her closet… And obeys his every word. Going so far as to leave you locked up on a chair, and do what she wants with you? She’s inhuman. Like you.” Scally, brimming with contempt towards the main before him, states. Delta does not inch. His eyes do not waiver from their distant resting place. His lips do not move or purse themselves to speak. He simply sits.
“You know what’s wrong with you? You didn’t do anything. You did what you’re doing now. You sat there. You let that broad strip you down, because that beast Jaggeroth told her to, and take advantage of you. You didn’t shout loud enough. You didn’t cry for help. You didn’t try to break the cuffs, you didn’t try anything. You sat there. It was you, Dustin! It was you! You know what, it’s always been your fault. You know what else was your fault? What happened to your siste-“
At this point, AJ no longer lets out any of that silly, silly noise that he makes with his mouth. The former King of the Deathmatch’s hands clasp about the neck of AJ, squeezing ever so tight, in hopes that the man’s head would pop like a balloon. Double D’s stare is no longer distant – he is locked-on to AJ Scally, eyes widened and teeth grinding. Dustin pulls his right arm back, clenching his hand into a closed fist before throwing all of his weight into the limb, bashing the knuckles directly into the kisser of the wanna-be Thunder from Down Under. However, Delta’s left hand maintains the clench on the neck, and the New Yorker begins to take large strides forward, backing AJ into a concrete wall. Dustin uses his lock on the neck to smash the back of AJ’s head into the wall forcibly, causing Scally to wince and cringe.
“Do you think, do you not realize…”
Delta’s second hand returns to the throat of the Australian, crushing it as the grasp becomes tighter and tigher, forcing the mediocre man to stop his breathing. The two-time Deathmatch champion retracts his right hand again, before crossing it across the visage of AJ with a powerful smack.
“I DIDN’T HAVE A GOD DAMN CHOICE.”
Dustin moves both of his hands to the side of AJ’s head, locking the kid straight in the eyes as his fingers interlocked with Scally’s shaggy hair, pulling it outwards from his scalp whilst using it as leverage to repeatedly bash the head of the AJ into the wall behind him. The whole while, Delta shakes his head in frustration, shouting like a sociopath.
“I DIDN’T HAVE A CHOICE.”
“IT WASN’T MY CHOICE.”
“I DIDN’T HAVE A CHOICE.”
“Shut up. Shut up! SHUT UP!”
Upon the third repetition of his demand for utter silence, Delta presses his left forearm upwards on the jaw of Scally, exposing the neck region. Using his predominant right arm, Dustin drives the point of his elbow into the Adam’s apple of the Aussie, bouncing the larynx back against the esophagus and or windpipe – the insane don’t have time nor care enough for anatomy. Purely damage. As his victim struggles to breath, much less speak, Double D locks both hands around the head of AJ, bringing the Australian nose-to-nose with himself.
“Do you think I liked it?”
“Do you think I liked the way it felt when Wolverina did what she wanted? Do you think I liked it when Jaggeroth burnt me with my best friend’s help?”
“DO YOU THINK I LIKE THE WAY THE WORLD SHREDS THE FIBERS THAT HOLD ME TOGETHER?”
Dustin, with Scally’s head locked between his hands, turns to the steel chair where he sat mere moments before this broke out. He takes two quick steps forward before swinging AJ down and throwing him forward, head-first. AJ Scally rockets onto the seat of the chair, his head passing under the backrest of the chair, which collapses under his weight, clamping down around his neck.
“’Cause I do.”
Delta, who seems groggy although taking no beating or suffering, drops to his knees - each one resting aside the collapsed chair and AJ – he seats his rear end upon the chair and uses his arm strength to press together the legs of the chair, closing and tightening the other end around Scally’s neck. Dustin progresses in speech. His voice comes off as weak, as if speaking to a psychiatrist.
“I like the way it feels like anxiety can strangle me. I like the way it feels when somebody puts the knife in my back, in the back, and twists it, just a little. I like the way it feels when I die, y’know? You know what I mean, AJ? I got this little present for myself. It was my birthday the other day. Nobody knew. Nobody noticed. Just me. And you know what I got myself, Scally? I got a noose, Scally. I got a noose with a thousand names of it, and I stood on a chair, and I liked the way it felt. I like the way it feels when I can’t breathe. I like being choked. Millson choked me in Jaggeroth’s office, the other day, Millson choked me. Did you know that, AJ? Is that filthy, AJ? ‘Cause Millson choked me the other day, and I couldn’t breathe, because he was choking me, and I liked it. I liked the way it felt, AJ. Do you like it, AJ? Do you? You know who liked it, Scally? Vlad liked it. I choked Vlad. Do you remember that, Scally? Remember when I was God? Remember when I killed God?! I remember. That’s why I’m here now, AJ. I killed God, AJ, and now I’m in hell. And hell is choking me, and hell gave me a noose and a chair, and hell gave me everything and I like it. I hope you like it, AJ, I hope you like it.”
Dustin continues to ramble on, mad, as AJ’s face begins to show faint hues of blue as air is unable to find its path to his lungs. Delta turns his body around, still seated on the chair, but now faces the side of the chair where AJ’s head shakes, struggling. Double D grabs a bush of his hair, pulling back on the scalp. While he continues to pull, as if to rip the hair out of AJ’s head, the procession continues.
“DO YOU LIKE IT, AJ? DO YOU LIKE IT? DO YOU LIKE DYING?”
AJ, who cannot breathe, cannot answer. Utter silence.
“ANSWER ME, GOD DAMN, ANSWER ME! DO YOU LIKE IT?”
Silence.
“I DON’T LIKE IT, AJ. I DON’T LIKE IT WHEN I ASK YOU A QUESTION AND YOU DON’T SAY ANYTHING. I DON’T LIKE IT, NO. NO. NO, NO, I DON’T LIKE IT. I DON’T LIKE IT WHEN THE LIVING LIKE YOU THINK YOU’RE ABOVE THE DEAD. I DON’T LIKE IT.”
Dustin’s voice echoes, surely being heard by others throughout the backstage area.
None come.
Silent night.
Dustin stands. With the weight relieved, AJ opens the chair, slipping his head out as he scampers to catch his breath. However, the moment of relief is just a moment. Delta stomps on the elbow of Scally, who instinctively grabs his joint to comfort it. His painful expression would weigh down even the heaviest of hearts. This is not the end, though, as Double D drops down low and locks himself about Scally’s arm with a sloppy Fujiwara Armbar. The silence is broken, and now the halls of Glory and Honor Wrestling echo with the agonizing and shrill screams of desperation and pain from AJ Scally. The live feed to the television station cuts to a camera not far away, although turned away from the brutal beating. AJ’s screams slowly calm themselves, until there is silence again.
“DO.”
“YOU.”
“LIKE.”
“DYING?”
There is a snap.
The screams resume.
EOT
“You disgust me.” AJ remarks, shaking his head slightly to express his discontent. The words don’t seem to faze Dustin, who sits idly and does not visibly pay any mind to, or even notice, the presence of Scally. Regardless, the championship contender continues.
“You’re filthy. Repulsive. Pondscum, really. The fact that you’d walk into Jaggeroth’s office willingly because of some dumb broad? I don’t give a damn about friendship. You’re an idiot to go anywhere near that son of a bitch, especially after the dumb actions you pulled. You know what’s even dumber than that, Delta? The fact that you’re even friends with a bitch like Haven. But I guess it’s too late to warn you. You see now, don’t you? She’s no good. What kind of friend is she, Dustin? When she doesn’t get her way, she whines to the big monster hiding in her closet… And obeys his every word. Going so far as to leave you locked up on a chair, and do what she wants with you? She’s inhuman. Like you.” Scally, brimming with contempt towards the main before him, states. Delta does not inch. His eyes do not waiver from their distant resting place. His lips do not move or purse themselves to speak. He simply sits.
“You know what’s wrong with you? You didn’t do anything. You did what you’re doing now. You sat there. You let that broad strip you down, because that beast Jaggeroth told her to, and take advantage of you. You didn’t shout loud enough. You didn’t cry for help. You didn’t try to break the cuffs, you didn’t try anything. You sat there. It was you, Dustin! It was you! You know what, it’s always been your fault. You know what else was your fault? What happened to your siste-“
At this point, AJ no longer lets out any of that silly, silly noise that he makes with his mouth. The former King of the Deathmatch’s hands clasp about the neck of AJ, squeezing ever so tight, in hopes that the man’s head would pop like a balloon. Double D’s stare is no longer distant – he is locked-on to AJ Scally, eyes widened and teeth grinding. Dustin pulls his right arm back, clenching his hand into a closed fist before throwing all of his weight into the limb, bashing the knuckles directly into the kisser of the wanna-be Thunder from Down Under. However, Delta’s left hand maintains the clench on the neck, and the New Yorker begins to take large strides forward, backing AJ into a concrete wall. Dustin uses his lock on the neck to smash the back of AJ’s head into the wall forcibly, causing Scally to wince and cringe.
“Do you think, do you not realize…”
Delta’s second hand returns to the throat of the Australian, crushing it as the grasp becomes tighter and tigher, forcing the mediocre man to stop his breathing. The two-time Deathmatch champion retracts his right hand again, before crossing it across the visage of AJ with a powerful smack.
“I DIDN’T HAVE A GOD DAMN CHOICE.”
Dustin moves both of his hands to the side of AJ’s head, locking the kid straight in the eyes as his fingers interlocked with Scally’s shaggy hair, pulling it outwards from his scalp whilst using it as leverage to repeatedly bash the head of the AJ into the wall behind him. The whole while, Delta shakes his head in frustration, shouting like a sociopath.
“I DIDN’T HAVE A CHOICE.”
“IT WASN’T MY CHOICE.”
“I DIDN’T HAVE A CHOICE.”
“Shut up. Shut up! SHUT UP!”
Upon the third repetition of his demand for utter silence, Delta presses his left forearm upwards on the jaw of Scally, exposing the neck region. Using his predominant right arm, Dustin drives the point of his elbow into the Adam’s apple of the Aussie, bouncing the larynx back against the esophagus and or windpipe – the insane don’t have time nor care enough for anatomy. Purely damage. As his victim struggles to breath, much less speak, Double D locks both hands around the head of AJ, bringing the Australian nose-to-nose with himself.
“Do you think I liked it?”
“Do you think I liked the way it felt when Wolverina did what she wanted? Do you think I liked it when Jaggeroth burnt me with my best friend’s help?”
“DO YOU THINK I LIKE THE WAY THE WORLD SHREDS THE FIBERS THAT HOLD ME TOGETHER?”
Dustin, with Scally’s head locked between his hands, turns to the steel chair where he sat mere moments before this broke out. He takes two quick steps forward before swinging AJ down and throwing him forward, head-first. AJ Scally rockets onto the seat of the chair, his head passing under the backrest of the chair, which collapses under his weight, clamping down around his neck.
“’Cause I do.”
Delta, who seems groggy although taking no beating or suffering, drops to his knees - each one resting aside the collapsed chair and AJ – he seats his rear end upon the chair and uses his arm strength to press together the legs of the chair, closing and tightening the other end around Scally’s neck. Dustin progresses in speech. His voice comes off as weak, as if speaking to a psychiatrist.
“I like the way it feels like anxiety can strangle me. I like the way it feels when somebody puts the knife in my back, in the back, and twists it, just a little. I like the way it feels when I die, y’know? You know what I mean, AJ? I got this little present for myself. It was my birthday the other day. Nobody knew. Nobody noticed. Just me. And you know what I got myself, Scally? I got a noose, Scally. I got a noose with a thousand names of it, and I stood on a chair, and I liked the way it felt. I like the way it feels when I can’t breathe. I like being choked. Millson choked me in Jaggeroth’s office, the other day, Millson choked me. Did you know that, AJ? Is that filthy, AJ? ‘Cause Millson choked me the other day, and I couldn’t breathe, because he was choking me, and I liked it. I liked the way it felt, AJ. Do you like it, AJ? Do you? You know who liked it, Scally? Vlad liked it. I choked Vlad. Do you remember that, Scally? Remember when I was God? Remember when I killed God?! I remember. That’s why I’m here now, AJ. I killed God, AJ, and now I’m in hell. And hell is choking me, and hell gave me a noose and a chair, and hell gave me everything and I like it. I hope you like it, AJ, I hope you like it.”
Dustin continues to ramble on, mad, as AJ’s face begins to show faint hues of blue as air is unable to find its path to his lungs. Delta turns his body around, still seated on the chair, but now faces the side of the chair where AJ’s head shakes, struggling. Double D grabs a bush of his hair, pulling back on the scalp. While he continues to pull, as if to rip the hair out of AJ’s head, the procession continues.
“DO YOU LIKE IT, AJ? DO YOU LIKE IT? DO YOU LIKE DYING?”
AJ, who cannot breathe, cannot answer. Utter silence.
“ANSWER ME, GOD DAMN, ANSWER ME! DO YOU LIKE IT?”
Silence.
“I DON’T LIKE IT, AJ. I DON’T LIKE IT WHEN I ASK YOU A QUESTION AND YOU DON’T SAY ANYTHING. I DON’T LIKE IT, NO. NO. NO, NO, I DON’T LIKE IT. I DON’T LIKE IT WHEN THE LIVING LIKE YOU THINK YOU’RE ABOVE THE DEAD. I DON’T LIKE IT.”
Dustin’s voice echoes, surely being heard by others throughout the backstage area.
None come.
Silent night.
Dustin stands. With the weight relieved, AJ opens the chair, slipping his head out as he scampers to catch his breath. However, the moment of relief is just a moment. Delta stomps on the elbow of Scally, who instinctively grabs his joint to comfort it. His painful expression would weigh down even the heaviest of hearts. This is not the end, though, as Double D drops down low and locks himself about Scally’s arm with a sloppy Fujiwara Armbar. The silence is broken, and now the halls of Glory and Honor Wrestling echo with the agonizing and shrill screams of desperation and pain from AJ Scally. The live feed to the television station cuts to a camera not far away, although turned away from the brutal beating. AJ’s screams slowly calm themselves, until there is silence again.
“DO.”
“YOU.”
“LIKE.”
“DYING?”
There is a snap.
The screams resume.
EOT