Post by Lachlan Smith on Nov 3, 2011 13:34:27 GMT -5
"A person's eyes are a window to the soul. They betray the words the mouth speaks, they hide no truth"
The voice that emanates from beyond the veil of emptiness is deep, and powerful, somewhat authoritative. The scene flickers to life slowly, showing a rather dank room, the only source of light the pale moonlight filtering through an open window to the left of the screen, casting a pale glow across the eerie abode, highlight the furniture, or lack thereof. Standing at the window frame, with his rather huge, muscular arms placed on the window ledge, a man is silhouetted the moonlight, staring out of the room, and into the world beyond. The shadowy figure's large frame shudders slightly as a breeze comes through, ruffling the curtains hanging, rather limply, on the sides of the window frame. The man's shoulders rise slightly, and fall, and he exhales sharply, sighing.
"You find some interesting things about a person when you look into their eyes. If you look hard enough, you can read the person's life, as if it were a book, with the words manifesting themselves in their pupils."
The figure lowers his head for several moments, the only sounds is the rustle of the curtains from the breeze, and the steady breaths of the shadowy figure, on which the camera is fixated. After peering down at something the camera cannot detect, the figure raises his head, and again, stares out from the window.
"You can learn all kinds of things. You can learn about the trials and tribulations of someone's past, the dedication they have, the commitment the courage. You can see all that, in someone's eyes, if you only open your own, and dare to look."
The figure again sighs, and lifts his hands up off the windowsill, and runs them through his slick back hair for a moment, before placing his left hand on the window frame, as if to steady himself. The figure brings his right arm up, and looks at the rather expensive looking watch that adorns it, checking the time. The figure groans with disapproval as he registers the lateness of the hour, and continues with his thoughts.
"There is nothing so much more gratifying than being able to read someone else. To learn all there is to know about them, just by the inconspicuous glance, and the meeting of gazes. It truly highlights how simple things can be, and how we, as a society can overcomplicate things."
As the figure finishes that part of the speech, there is a loud knock coming from behind the camera. The figure seems unperturbed by the interruption, as if expecting the visitor. The figure doesn't shift his gaze, still peering out of the window, but grunts in recognition.
"Enter."
The creaking of a rather heavy and antique door can be heard swinging open, and rather slow footsteps, accompanied by the grunting of a second man, who sounds as if he is in pain, or is physically exerting himself. At the sound of the second strangers entrance into the room, the man finally shifts his gaze from the window, and towards the camera, the silhouette of the moonlight still obscuring the man's facial features.
"You're late. I was expecting this delivered 2 hours ago"
The shadowy figures voice resonates with disapproval and loathing. He crosses his arms in annoyance, as another figure strides past the camera, rather slowly, into the shot. The second man in the frame is short, and plump, his arms wrapped around a large, thing, rectangular object, which looks heavy, based on the way the figure is walking.
"I know I am late, Sir. Do you know how heavy this thing is, and how out in the middle of nowhere this place is? Not even a single bloody road sign. Anyway, I got here with your package safely, didn't I? Now, where do you want it?
The second man's voice is rather gruff, seemingly angry with the hostility shown by the shadowy figure, who just grunts at the fat man's remarks. The shadowy figure turns to face the short man, and points towards the concrete wall opposite him, tot he right of screen.
"Just lean it against the wall, and leave me in peace. I have no further use for you, and you smell like a sewer, so I do not wish upon your company."
The fat man lets out a cough, indicating he doesn't approve of the jibe the silhouetted figure directed at him. He turns his back to the man in charge and strides forwards slowly a couple of paces, and starts to set the rather large package against the wall.
"Be careful with that. You know how much I paid for that Krager, and you know how heavy it is. You break it, and I will wring your neck, you understand me?"
The man called Krager gulps rather nervously, and slowly places the delicate package on the floor, resting it up against the wall. Once the package is resting safely against the wall, Krager lets out a sigh of relief, due to the weight of the package suddenly vanishing, or the fact the authoritative figure won't have reason to strangle him. The fat man turns to the taller man, and bows.
"Anything else Master?"
The shadowy figure doesn't answer, instead he flicks his wrist towards the door, indicating rather crudely to the servant, Krager, to leave. Krager bows again, this time shallower, and strides towards the door, unimpeded by the weight of the package. He reaches it in several moments, and the sound of the door screeching shut, followed by the solid thud signifying it is completely shut resonates throughout the room, leaving it in silence once more.
"It is good to see what other people in you, but what really matters is what one sees in oneself. Having faith in yourself is paramount to leading a happy life."
The shadowy figure leaves the refuge of the window, and strides towards the large, rectangular package leaning against concrete. When he is within touching distance, he reaches his large hand out, and tears off the brown paper, covering it, revealing a rather ornate, delicate and antique mirror underneath. The figure busies himself for several minutes, ripping and tearing the paper off of his package, and when no scrap is left hanging from the mirror, he stands up, and admires his newest possession.
"Behold the mirror. One of man's greatest artefacts. How else can one see through the eyes of someone else? When you look in the mirror what do you see? You will say you see yourselves how others see you. That is an obvious, yet boring assessment."
The figure straightens up, revealing his true height, around the seven foot mark, and stares down at the mirror, savouring the sight for several moments, before letting out a deep breath.
"You want to know what I see when I look in the mirror at my reflection? I see a weapon. I see power and I see destruction. Above all, I see myself in all my glory. I see myself for what I truly am. I see myself as the Ultimate Perfection."
The last two words identify the man in shot as none other than the former member of Death Squad, and one half of Chaos Theory, a man who hasn't been seen in GHW since Red, White and Bruised where he and Sycho Sam defeated Barta Bull and Sebastian Parker. Lachlan Smith is staring at himself in the mirror. The Ultimate Perfection lets out a slight laugh, no more than two seconds long, but enough to convey sinister motives tot eh fans.
"What I see is the man who has the ability to break apart everything you thought you knew. A man who has the talent and strength to crush opponents. I see a man with nothing to lose, and everything to gain. I see a man who will take what he wants, when he wants."
Lachlan laughs again, this time softer than his previous occasion. Once his laughter dies down, he scrutinises himself in the mirror once more, losing himself in thought. After several moments of pondering, he again, begins to speak.
"What I see is Lachlan Smith. I see everything I have just seen contained in the body of a man. The man that is about to unleash a reign of terror upon this federation the likes of which each and every person involved in this business can not begin to hope to comprehend."
Lachlan lets these words hang in the air, whilst he continues to survey himself in the mirror. He focuses on his reflection, face contorted in concentration and, after a brief moment, sighs deeply.
"When I step into that ring, you know what I see in the eyes of my opponents, as I gaze across the canvas at them? I see fear. Fear of what I am. Fear of what I can do. Fear of what I WILL do. There is nothing like the feeling you get, seeing another man trying to act tough, but looking into their eyes, deep down into their soul and realising the truth that they are afraid of you. There is nothing like it."
The Ultimate Perfection pauses for several seconds to rub his chin in contemplation, before relaxing his tense body, and begins to speak again.
"It is beyond anything you could imagine. Knowing that they are mentally weakened by your presence, it's like a drug. It makes you feel so alive, so.... so real. Fast forward several minutes of you dominating your fearful opponent, and the only that can top seeing fear is seeing the fear replaced by helplessness, of defeat and the welcoming of death. It is the ultimate feeling."
Lachlan smiles suddenly, and laughs to himself, rather heartily. the laugh of a man who is content with his role in life. His laughter dies down gradually, and he tears his gaze away from the mirror, and flicks those steely, grey eyes on the camera, burning an imaginary hole in the lens, such is the intensity of the gaze.
"That is why I am making it my personal aim to single handedly rip this company apart, one Fighty fighty person at a time. I want to see the fear I see in everyone who steps into the ring with me's eyes. I want to see the same look of trepidation and distress their eyes, and soul convey to me. I want to watch as that slowly leeches away, and replaces it with helplessness, with defeat, and with inferiority. I want to see this place tremble underneath me. I want it to beg for mercy, to struggle, and to fight the inevitable. It makes it much more fun for me. In the end though, I will be too much to overcome, and when the dust settles, you shall all come to realise just how powerful eyes can be."
The Ultimate Perfection begins to cackle maniacally, his laughter pitch rising several tones, almost to the point where it is painful to listen to, before, once more subsiding.
"Glory and Honor Wrestling, I am back, and I am on the warpath. Your time is coming, and for some, your numbers have just come up. I suggest you run to the nearest mirror, look long and hard at it, and ask yourself "What do I see?". It could very well be the last opportunity you have to soul search, and to see what others around you see. I can guarantee you though, what each and every one of you who looks will find though, is fear. Those who deny this, are foolish. Everyone fears something, and those who deny fearing something, fear it more than they admit. I can see it in their eyes. They can deny it until the stars don't shine and the night never ends, but the eyes tell the truth."
Lachlan suddenly turns to face the mirror, and surveys the intricacies of the design for several moments before letting out a snarl of rage and flinging his large boot out, driving it into the mirror, and shattering it, shards of mirror raining down onto the carpet below.
"What I see is the beginning of a new chapter in Glory and Honor Wrestling folklore. A chapter of fear, and darkness, and helplessness. Let chaos reign supreme! After it is all said and done, GHW will resemble this mirror. Broken shards of something much greater, something beautiful that cannot be fixed. That is what I see, and I am going to make sure you see what I see. Feast your eyes on what is about to unfold."
With that, the camera cuts out, leaving the arena in absolute horror, fans sitting stunned in their seats.
EoT
The voice that emanates from beyond the veil of emptiness is deep, and powerful, somewhat authoritative. The scene flickers to life slowly, showing a rather dank room, the only source of light the pale moonlight filtering through an open window to the left of the screen, casting a pale glow across the eerie abode, highlight the furniture, or lack thereof. Standing at the window frame, with his rather huge, muscular arms placed on the window ledge, a man is silhouetted the moonlight, staring out of the room, and into the world beyond. The shadowy figure's large frame shudders slightly as a breeze comes through, ruffling the curtains hanging, rather limply, on the sides of the window frame. The man's shoulders rise slightly, and fall, and he exhales sharply, sighing.
"You find some interesting things about a person when you look into their eyes. If you look hard enough, you can read the person's life, as if it were a book, with the words manifesting themselves in their pupils."
The figure lowers his head for several moments, the only sounds is the rustle of the curtains from the breeze, and the steady breaths of the shadowy figure, on which the camera is fixated. After peering down at something the camera cannot detect, the figure raises his head, and again, stares out from the window.
"You can learn all kinds of things. You can learn about the trials and tribulations of someone's past, the dedication they have, the commitment the courage. You can see all that, in someone's eyes, if you only open your own, and dare to look."
The figure again sighs, and lifts his hands up off the windowsill, and runs them through his slick back hair for a moment, before placing his left hand on the window frame, as if to steady himself. The figure brings his right arm up, and looks at the rather expensive looking watch that adorns it, checking the time. The figure groans with disapproval as he registers the lateness of the hour, and continues with his thoughts.
"There is nothing so much more gratifying than being able to read someone else. To learn all there is to know about them, just by the inconspicuous glance, and the meeting of gazes. It truly highlights how simple things can be, and how we, as a society can overcomplicate things."
As the figure finishes that part of the speech, there is a loud knock coming from behind the camera. The figure seems unperturbed by the interruption, as if expecting the visitor. The figure doesn't shift his gaze, still peering out of the window, but grunts in recognition.
"Enter."
The creaking of a rather heavy and antique door can be heard swinging open, and rather slow footsteps, accompanied by the grunting of a second man, who sounds as if he is in pain, or is physically exerting himself. At the sound of the second strangers entrance into the room, the man finally shifts his gaze from the window, and towards the camera, the silhouette of the moonlight still obscuring the man's facial features.
"You're late. I was expecting this delivered 2 hours ago"
The shadowy figures voice resonates with disapproval and loathing. He crosses his arms in annoyance, as another figure strides past the camera, rather slowly, into the shot. The second man in the frame is short, and plump, his arms wrapped around a large, thing, rectangular object, which looks heavy, based on the way the figure is walking.
"I know I am late, Sir. Do you know how heavy this thing is, and how out in the middle of nowhere this place is? Not even a single bloody road sign. Anyway, I got here with your package safely, didn't I? Now, where do you want it?
The second man's voice is rather gruff, seemingly angry with the hostility shown by the shadowy figure, who just grunts at the fat man's remarks. The shadowy figure turns to face the short man, and points towards the concrete wall opposite him, tot he right of screen.
"Just lean it against the wall, and leave me in peace. I have no further use for you, and you smell like a sewer, so I do not wish upon your company."
The fat man lets out a cough, indicating he doesn't approve of the jibe the silhouetted figure directed at him. He turns his back to the man in charge and strides forwards slowly a couple of paces, and starts to set the rather large package against the wall.
"Be careful with that. You know how much I paid for that Krager, and you know how heavy it is. You break it, and I will wring your neck, you understand me?"
The man called Krager gulps rather nervously, and slowly places the delicate package on the floor, resting it up against the wall. Once the package is resting safely against the wall, Krager lets out a sigh of relief, due to the weight of the package suddenly vanishing, or the fact the authoritative figure won't have reason to strangle him. The fat man turns to the taller man, and bows.
"Anything else Master?"
The shadowy figure doesn't answer, instead he flicks his wrist towards the door, indicating rather crudely to the servant, Krager, to leave. Krager bows again, this time shallower, and strides towards the door, unimpeded by the weight of the package. He reaches it in several moments, and the sound of the door screeching shut, followed by the solid thud signifying it is completely shut resonates throughout the room, leaving it in silence once more.
"It is good to see what other people in you, but what really matters is what one sees in oneself. Having faith in yourself is paramount to leading a happy life."
The shadowy figure leaves the refuge of the window, and strides towards the large, rectangular package leaning against concrete. When he is within touching distance, he reaches his large hand out, and tears off the brown paper, covering it, revealing a rather ornate, delicate and antique mirror underneath. The figure busies himself for several minutes, ripping and tearing the paper off of his package, and when no scrap is left hanging from the mirror, he stands up, and admires his newest possession.
"Behold the mirror. One of man's greatest artefacts. How else can one see through the eyes of someone else? When you look in the mirror what do you see? You will say you see yourselves how others see you. That is an obvious, yet boring assessment."
The figure straightens up, revealing his true height, around the seven foot mark, and stares down at the mirror, savouring the sight for several moments, before letting out a deep breath.
"You want to know what I see when I look in the mirror at my reflection? I see a weapon. I see power and I see destruction. Above all, I see myself in all my glory. I see myself for what I truly am. I see myself as the Ultimate Perfection."
The last two words identify the man in shot as none other than the former member of Death Squad, and one half of Chaos Theory, a man who hasn't been seen in GHW since Red, White and Bruised where he and Sycho Sam defeated Barta Bull and Sebastian Parker. Lachlan Smith is staring at himself in the mirror. The Ultimate Perfection lets out a slight laugh, no more than two seconds long, but enough to convey sinister motives tot eh fans.
"What I see is the man who has the ability to break apart everything you thought you knew. A man who has the talent and strength to crush opponents. I see a man with nothing to lose, and everything to gain. I see a man who will take what he wants, when he wants."
Lachlan laughs again, this time softer than his previous occasion. Once his laughter dies down, he scrutinises himself in the mirror once more, losing himself in thought. After several moments of pondering, he again, begins to speak.
"What I see is Lachlan Smith. I see everything I have just seen contained in the body of a man. The man that is about to unleash a reign of terror upon this federation the likes of which each and every person involved in this business can not begin to hope to comprehend."
Lachlan lets these words hang in the air, whilst he continues to survey himself in the mirror. He focuses on his reflection, face contorted in concentration and, after a brief moment, sighs deeply.
"When I step into that ring, you know what I see in the eyes of my opponents, as I gaze across the canvas at them? I see fear. Fear of what I am. Fear of what I can do. Fear of what I WILL do. There is nothing like the feeling you get, seeing another man trying to act tough, but looking into their eyes, deep down into their soul and realising the truth that they are afraid of you. There is nothing like it."
The Ultimate Perfection pauses for several seconds to rub his chin in contemplation, before relaxing his tense body, and begins to speak again.
"It is beyond anything you could imagine. Knowing that they are mentally weakened by your presence, it's like a drug. It makes you feel so alive, so.... so real. Fast forward several minutes of you dominating your fearful opponent, and the only that can top seeing fear is seeing the fear replaced by helplessness, of defeat and the welcoming of death. It is the ultimate feeling."
Lachlan smiles suddenly, and laughs to himself, rather heartily. the laugh of a man who is content with his role in life. His laughter dies down gradually, and he tears his gaze away from the mirror, and flicks those steely, grey eyes on the camera, burning an imaginary hole in the lens, such is the intensity of the gaze.
"That is why I am making it my personal aim to single handedly rip this company apart, one Fighty fighty person at a time. I want to see the fear I see in everyone who steps into the ring with me's eyes. I want to see the same look of trepidation and distress their eyes, and soul convey to me. I want to watch as that slowly leeches away, and replaces it with helplessness, with defeat, and with inferiority. I want to see this place tremble underneath me. I want it to beg for mercy, to struggle, and to fight the inevitable. It makes it much more fun for me. In the end though, I will be too much to overcome, and when the dust settles, you shall all come to realise just how powerful eyes can be."
The Ultimate Perfection begins to cackle maniacally, his laughter pitch rising several tones, almost to the point where it is painful to listen to, before, once more subsiding.
"Glory and Honor Wrestling, I am back, and I am on the warpath. Your time is coming, and for some, your numbers have just come up. I suggest you run to the nearest mirror, look long and hard at it, and ask yourself "What do I see?". It could very well be the last opportunity you have to soul search, and to see what others around you see. I can guarantee you though, what each and every one of you who looks will find though, is fear. Those who deny this, are foolish. Everyone fears something, and those who deny fearing something, fear it more than they admit. I can see it in their eyes. They can deny it until the stars don't shine and the night never ends, but the eyes tell the truth."
Lachlan suddenly turns to face the mirror, and surveys the intricacies of the design for several moments before letting out a snarl of rage and flinging his large boot out, driving it into the mirror, and shattering it, shards of mirror raining down onto the carpet below.
"What I see is the beginning of a new chapter in Glory and Honor Wrestling folklore. A chapter of fear, and darkness, and helplessness. Let chaos reign supreme! After it is all said and done, GHW will resemble this mirror. Broken shards of something much greater, something beautiful that cannot be fixed. That is what I see, and I am going to make sure you see what I see. Feast your eyes on what is about to unfold."
With that, the camera cuts out, leaving the arena in absolute horror, fans sitting stunned in their seats.
EoT
((What do you guys think? Would really like some feedback.))
