The Kingdom is crumbling... and I'm ripping it apart... Jun 3, 2023 23:02:31 GMT -5 Real Untamed Demon likes this
Post by TheNewBreed on Jun 3, 2023 23:02:31 GMT -5
Sunday, March 26, 2023 – Las Vegas International Airport : Some warehouse3:00am
The sound of several men chuckling can be heard in the dim light as a large door closes on three men in white tank tops and underwear, bound and gagged, struggling against their restraints.
“Have a great day fellas. Thanks fer da outfits.” a man says in a thick New York accent as the other men around laugh at the two prisoners as the door closes with a THUD and the lock is snapped shut on the ring outside.
Four men stand inside what appears to be a warehouse, two of them buttoning up 'Lock Down Security' shirts as another slides into a sleek black chauffeur's coat. The fourth, after locking the door with a massive padlock, turns to the group and looks them over.
“So... everyone know what they's s'posed ta do, right?” his cold, beady eyes scan the group assembled before him. The three of them are middle aged, well built and toned, all with a dangerous air about them of menace and chaos all rolled into a touch of excitement for the task at hand. The 'chauffeur' had short cropped black hair and a slick sneer with a slight rising of the corner of his mouth. His eyes were intense and predatory as he made his way around the hood of a shiny black limo parked in the warehouse nearby headed towards the driver's door.
“Yeah boss. I got this.” he says with a sly grin. “Get in ya mooks. We got work ta do.” he looks over at the 'guards' with a nod of head as he pulls a pair of embroidered black leather driving gloves on and slides into the driver's seat.
The two men finish snapping their ballistic vests on, check their gear, and make their way to the rear door of the limo before piling in and shutting the door behind them. Moments later, the limo roars to life and pulls slowly away towards a bay door across the warehouse.
“You betta' have this.” the 'boss' whispers to himself, sliding a gnarled, knobby-knuckled hand over his slick bald head as he makes his way towards another door in the nearby wall, and disappears behind it leaving the dimly lit warehouse in silence once more.
* * * * *
Las Vegas International Airport : New Breed Foundation private hangar
“We have completed our taxi to the hangar, and are prepared to disembark, Mr. Cable. Whenever you are ready, I can assist you.” a middle aged brunette says sweetly as she approaches Johnathan's seat in the New Breed's premier airliner.
“Thank you, Marjorie. If you could just make sure that my ring bags make it to the arena and the other luggage goes to my room, that should be all.” John says offhandedly as he scans the screen of his laptop, buried in spreadsheets for some project or another.
“No problem, Sir. I will see that those matters are handled immediately. It was a pleasure to have you aboard again, and I hope your stay in Vegas is a good one.” Marjorie says with a smile as she makes her way back towards the cockpit and disappears.
* * * * *
Las Vegas International Airport : New Breed Foundation private hangar.
John emerges from the plane's main door, straightens his dark gray suit jacket against the slight breeze of the early morning, and makes his way down the wide metal staircase to the brightly lit tarmac. At the end of the stairs, two men in 'Lock Down' Shirts and ballistic vests stand at attention, guarding their charge as he arrives home in Vegas.
“Welcome back to Vegas, Mr. Cable.” the smug looking sneer curls into a slick smile on the dark haired man's face as they fall in behind Johnathan as he makes his way to the limo nearby and the 'chauffeur' steps towards the rear passenger door.
“New guys tonight, huh? Rebecca must be stretched thin in dispatch tonight, right? Most of you sent up to the Rabbit for the show tomorrow, I bet?” John asks with a smirk as he moves towards the car taking his gifted watch off and sliding it inside his pocket as he presses a small green button on the side.
“Yeah. Sure. They got us all at the Arena fer tomorrow.” the other dark haired 'guard' says to John from behind him, his tone even and smooth as they walk. The two men exchange glances with each other and make their way towards the car behind John as the third opens the door of the sleek black limo.
“Funny. Darina hasn't changed my airport detail in seven years... and Rebecca is Citizen's secretary... not the dispatch officer at 'Lock Down', SO I think you ha...” John starts to quip skeptically before the world explodes in a bloom of shadows and an overwhelming ringing sound fills John's head. The tintinnabulations echo inside his skull as his vision swims and the ground rushes up to meet him face to face. The world slows down around him, and everything blurs and smudges in his vision as he crashes into the tarmac below him.
“SO... I think you's had bes' jus' not tell us what's we ought'ta be doing 'ere huh, MR. Cable!” the sly grin widened and the thin lips of the dark haired man parted slightly, the lust of the violence joyful in his thick accented voice. He giggled then, and pulled a booted foot back, back, back, and then launches it into to the side of Cable's skull where the Beast was grasping blindly at nothing trying to get his bearings back there on the ground between them and the car. A line of red dribbled down past John's ear and splattered on the dark pavement as the other 'guard' brandished the metal pipe, splattered in crimson that he had hit John with already, and took another swing, low and arching towards the Beast's ribs, connecting with a sickening thud of metal on flesh and the cracking of bones.
John cries out in agony as his midsection promptly implodes from the pain in his ribs. He had thought the instantaneous reaction to the first hit had been bad... but the rib shot had him unable to even think for far longer than John had liked. He was in trouble... and he didn't have long before it would be too late at this rate.
Heavy booted feet rain in from all angles. A few shots to the face, a solid kick to the center of his spine, a series of driving strikes tearing at his already damaged knee, a couple of well placed heels to the shoulder... each and every one agony and searing pain...anguish and terror.
Once more, the blood splattered pipe swung through the air in a wicked arc, smashing into John's shoulder with a sickening thud. The arm drops at an odd angle and hangs limply from his side as he rolls across the tarmac. A shrill scream of pain echoes from his lungs met with yet another boot to the face for his anguish.
The tinkle of metal rings unfurling is heard as a length of chain dangles to the ground from one hand of the other 'guard' and scrapes across the blacktop surface.
“This is gonna hurt ya. I promise.” he man sneers at him as he winds up and thrashes at Cable with the chain.
The links wrap across John's midsection and arm with a disgusting sound of pavement and flesh and metal crashing together. Again and again the man lashes at the Beast writhing in pain on the tarmac, slashing and cutting into his skin across his chest and back, heavy impacts landing left and right.
Eventually, hands grab a hold of John and drag him to the limo, where he was unceremoniously dumped on the floor in the back of the car in a heap as the door closed.
“Make sure ta' tie up tha' loose ends.” the 'chauffeur' reminds the two 'guards' as he makes his way around the side of the car and slides into the driver's seat. The two 'guards' draw their sidearms, and make their way back down the tarmac towards the plane as the engine roars to life once more, and then the car lurches forward slowly as John slips away from consciousness and falls into the void of blackness that folds over him like a nightmare.
* * * * *
New Breed Foundation Research and Development Bunker – Axtgriff Garage
“ENGAGE INTERVENTION PROTOCOL APLHA SEVEN CABLE – AUTHORIZATION R2-IDEA RED FLAG SIX TWO OMEGA!” the normally chipper and upbeat buzzing of the R2 unit was no longer the calm and curious tonal chirps and noises, but forceful, and in a voice that was not it's own. It was deep and dangerous, still electronic in it's nature, but mechanical and unfeeling as the machine it truly was.
The egg shaped droid flashes it's large green 'eye' as its optical shutters click within, and the bright emerald glow flashes to a deep red like laser lights emanating from deep within.
“INTERVENTION PROTOCOL ENGAGED. PREPARE FOR UPGRADES.” the machine from within chimed as cracks opened on the surface of the tan colored egg and bright red light flooded out from inside. A pixilated looking black coating flowed from within and covered the egg in a wave that took mere moments. Trillions of nanobots spread across the surface of the droid and formed thick armored plates over it's tan shell. As they formed around it, tendrils of the tiny bots formed up and writhed around the floating egg in a whirling maelstrom of thick ropes, all eerily lit from within by the bright red 'eye' staring outwardly as the whole thing grew in size and pulsed as the bots locked together and engaged it's new found armor.
“INTERFACE COMPLETE. FTV DRIVE ACTIVE. PREPARE FOR JUMP IN THREE... TWO... ONE...” the machine hummed and buzzed from within the whirling arms of nanobots. As it counted down, bright lights thrummed and pulsed within the core of the R2 unit, and swirls of red light formed a whirling cloud of smokey light as the once unassuming little droid was engulfed in a flash of red light and disappeared with a loud POP.
* * * * *
Las Vegas International Airport : New Breed Foundation private Jet.
The two 'guards' slip in through the door of the plane and split up along the central walkway of the interior of the plane. One of the men move towards the cockpit, his pistol drawn and his footsteps silent and sure. The other makes his way into the main room of the plane and sweeps across the seats with the barrel of a pistol as he looks for the crew inside.
As the second man moves through the room and towards the tail of the plane where the crew rooms are, a loud POP echoes through the plane as a flash of bright red light blinds the man and he throws his arms up to block the visual assault out of reflex and terror. In an instant, the room that was once quiet and calm, was thrown in to chaos.
The armored droid was a cacophony of violence as it's tendrils tore through the air between it and the man, barely a moment of realization as to what his fate would be as the man was ripped to shreds, tentacles of nanobots flaying his skin and muscles from his bones with splatters of ichor coating the walls, ceiling, and floor of the plane. Before the mist of his former shape had settled on the floor, the gun clattered to the ground with a loud crack as the echoes of his dying screams faded to nothing.
A scream rung out then as one of the women from the crew quarters came to see what had happened and as she looked on at the room in horror, she summarily fainted and collapsed to the gore soaked floor.
Without hesitation, the droid whirled in mid air and took off towards the cockpit as the other 'guard' came sprinting into the room. He slid to a stop just in time for the whirling tendrils of the R2 unit to point towards the man and coalesce into a single spear point as it drove through his chest with a ripping and cracking sound as the droid flew through him in an instant, and he too, slumped to the floor with a thud, a gaping hole straight through him.
“EMMINENT THREAT ELIMINATED. SECONDARY TARGETS AQUIRED. PREPARE FOR JUMP IN THREE... TWO... ONE...” the machine hummed and buzzed from within once more as the red light pulsed, and then flashed brightly once more as the R2 unit blinked out once more with a loud POP.
* * * * *
Las Vegas International Airport : New Breed Foundation private hangar.
With a loud POP and a bright flash of red light and swirls of red smoke, the R2 Unit blinked into existence within the hangar. Its suit of nanobots whirled around it, terrifying in it's lethality and elegant in it's grace. Silently, the red 'eye' scanned the long black limo, then floated down, hovering just above the hood of the car.
“What the fuck is that?” the 'chauffeur' mouths from inside the limo as the office door opens in the wall of the hangar and the 'boss' emerges from the other room in to the red lit hangar bay.
“What in the...” the 'boss' muttered to himself as his eyes grew wide as saucers taking in the sight of the armored Droid floating above the car. It spun then, the bright red 'eye' scanning the man standing across the room.
“SECONDARY TARGET AQUIRED. THREAT LEVEL 5. TIME CORRUPTION IMMENENT. ENGAGE PRIMARY INTERVENTION MODE.” the mechanical tone of the R2 Unit echoes through the hangar as the 'chauffeur' steps out of the car and the 'boss' draws a pistol from behind his back, hidden beneath his tee shirt.
The two of them draw down on the Droid, but it was far too late.
In a moment, the droid lashed out in both directions with its maelstrom of armored tentacles, the two men taking careless shots from either direction as panic engulfs them, and then the tendrils do. R2- IDEA, a single tendril honing down to a razor fine point as it streaked through the air to cover the distance between them, effortlessly pierced the man's skull and protruding from the other side, the body hanging limply in the air before being flung off like an overstuffed trash bag and collapsing in a heap on the floor. The blood pooled across the floor in moments, but not before the 'boss' met a similar fate, his head ripped from his shoulders as gouts of blood spurted in to the air and splattered the floor in a wide circle around his body as he fell to the floor as well.
“JOHNATHAN CABLE? PLEASE RESPOND?” the machine begged as it floated closer and closer to the limo. When no response came, it flashed its red 'eye' across the car once more, scanning the interior, and seeing John on the floor of the of the limo.
“VITALS CRASHING. JOHNATHAN CABLE... YOU ARE IN IMMINENT DANGER. MEDICAL PROTOCOLS ENGAGED.” the Droid chimed as the red light from within flashed once more a bright red, then changed to a deep azure blue as the light flooded the hangar from within its egg shaped armor plating. Cracks opened up on the surface of the Droid as the nanobot armor retreated back across the surface of its tan colored egg like shell and disappeared within it once more.
“DARINA WEIMAN. JOHNATHAN CABLE HAS BEEN SEVERELY INJURED. HE IS IN EXTREME CRITAL CONDITION, AND MAY NOT RECOVER. ADMINISTERING MEDICAL ATTENTION TO ATTEMPT TO STABLIZE, AND THEN WILL JUMP TO THE FOUNDATION HOSPITAL. ENGAGE CODE RED PROTOCOL.” the Droid said to thin air as a low toned beep signals a successful message transmission. A hypodermic needle protrudes from the tan shell of the Droid, as well as a small laser cutter. R2 cut the hinges of the back door of the limo like a hot knife through butter with a bright green laser beam as the door crashes away from the car and clatters to the floor loudly as the scene fades to black.
* * * * *
Sunday, March 26th, 2023 – Jacksonville, FL: Random TV Screen
“Local International Charity Mogul and Philanthropist, Johnathan Cable, is in critical condition this morning after an assault at LAX early this morning. Details are limited at this time, as this is a Breaking News Story, but early reports indicate four suspects are dead at the scene and three employees of the 'Lock Down Security Firm' suffered minor wounds after being kidnapped and held hostage at a private hangar owned by the New Breed Foundation. We will be sure to keep coverage of this story as up to date as we can through out the day. Stay tuned right here to First Coast FOX News for more.”
* * * * *
Your Kingdom is in danger, Fred... and I think you know it. I think you have convinced yourself that you are firmly in control here, and you couldn't be farther from the truth.
You were right to see me as a threat to your glory from day one... and now... you claim to pity me. You claim... arrogantly... in your hubris that I am worthless and grasping at the glory of yesteryear in some vain attempt to reclaim my position within the wrestling industry... but Fred... your projecting.
You bought into your own bullshit so hard that you have convinced yourself there is but one outcome on Monday Night in Charlotte... you emerging victoriously from the Iron Circle... putting me to pasture once and for all... ending my dream of reclamation over the days of Championship Gold draped around my waist.
You have spouted your self righteous drivel of untold talent and skills to anyone who would listen... and you have laid claims of your greatness at the feet of all who have stood before you. You have lied to yourself, Fred... and when the Circle has closed in around us... I will expose you for the fraud you really are.
I survived the attack you orchestrated two months ago... but only after death had already claimed me, Fred. Those men you sent to LAX... they did their job alright... and then they met their maker for their sins. Then... it took two months to recover enough to come make sure you didn't forget who I was, Fred... and after Monday night... you never will again.
If it weren't for R2-IDEA... I wouldn't have survived the assault at the hands of your hired goons... and you would be rid of me right now... but I did... miraculously... and now... I am going to end this little war between us. You've shown me what depths you will stoop to you to win, Fred... and I know now just how far you are willing to go. I know how far you are willing to push this... and I look forward to this. I relish in the idea that there will be no holding back on Monday... and why should there be, Fred? You were willing to have me killed... to murder innocent men and women all because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time... and for that, Fred... vengeance will be slow and painful.
There will be no more hiding behind better men... there will be no more standing on the shoulder of greater men... there will be no more lies or games... only brutality and pain... and I am going to make sure you suffer for every single vile thing you ever done.
This is my playground, Fred... my signature sort of hell... and it's designed to push anyone who has ever climbed inside of the Iron Circle beyond their limits... just ask Straight Hate about losing his Hardcore Title to me all those years ago. Hell... as a matter of fact... ask Chris Page about every brutal match he has ever witnessed me take part in. Ask Tristan Slater, or Kyle Shane, or Raziel, or RJ Palmer... ask them all about what kind of monster I really am... and then ask yourself if you think you are actually ready to lay claim to the Kingdom at hand.
I can only imagine you have lied to yourself about this for so long that you believe you can actually win this Monday, Fred... and I assure you... there is nothing further from the truth. You are swallowing your own shit wholesale, Fred, and you have convinced yourself that this is going to go your way... that you not only can stand toe to toe with me in that Circle of mangled and rusting steel, but that you will emerge victoriously at the end of the night.
Oh... Poor Freddy.
The only thing for certain this Monday night in Charlotte... is that you are going to find out just how much pain you can take... and then I am going to rip your Kingdom asunder, one brick at a time.
When I am through with you... you will wish for death, Fred... and I will withhold it... to make you suffer all the longer at my hands. You deserve nothing better... and I will give you nothing more.
The time is at hand Mr. Kingdom... and the walls of your castle are shaking already. In mere hours from now... I will show you just what a Beast can do when the collar comes off and the demon within wreaks havoc on all you hold dear.
Prepare for the fate you deserve, Fred. It's going to be one for the history books you sonofabitch.