The base of Olympus

[Vladimir Strife]

It is the end of a momentous night in the land of EVPW, but little would anyone know by it's barren halls as a man drags himself through them down the length of a deserted corridor. The man, having trekked the opposing direction less than two hours ago, had been widely considered a god. Yet now, as his wretched and ravaged form stopped to slump against the wall in a gruesome sight more hellish than heavenly in nature, questions and debates raged as to the validity of this claim among fans, forums, colleagues and even the Romanian himself. He forces his hand into his pocket, wiggling his finger through the heavy fabric, matted with blood, in search of a key.

As he finds it, he slips it out and struggles to slip it into the lock, his hand trembling in some mixture of blood loss and shock. The shaft slips in, but the Bambi Killer is hesitant to turn it over as a familiar sense of not being alone takes over him.

"What now?.."

TBCB They know who

[Syn]

So you are the feared God King, the behometh of the squared circle, the Titan of the Gods. When I first saw you I was impressed, I was very impressed, I figured that taking your throne, and your crown would be hard to do. But after watching your performance, I see that you are not the God King that I should fear, you are not the Titan that can not be beat, you are instead a shell of your former self. I realized when Rhaps hand was raised in victory, that I the one true God, would be able to ascend to the throne, and take my rightful place at the top of the pecking order.

Vladimir Strife turns to face the voice, a snarl hidden within the beaten and bloody face of the Bambi Killer. The unknown superstar stands there with a cocky smiles on his face. As there eyes lock a snarled voice speaks, the tone with which he speaks, reeks of anger and venom.

I know who you are, yes I do know who you are. You are one of the new pups to enter this sport, you are so wet behind the ears, that you do not know the meaning of busting your ass. You come in here running your smart ass mouth, thinking that YOU, not only are a God, but that you can take from me what no one to this date has taken from me. I hold more records in this sport then any other superstar, I have spilled more blood, broken more bones in my body, scarred my very being over and over again, in order to reach the throne I sit on, and to wear the crown that has been placed upon my head. You have the balls to come back here and tell me that you think I am weak, you think that I am going to just turn over this throne and crown? Do you think that someone as young and wet behind the ears as yourself, who claims to be a God, but is nothing more then a mamma's boy, is going to take this crown and title from me? Son I have beaten the best in the business, I have taken men beyond the breaking point. And for you to come here and blab about taking MY THRONE, MY TITLE, MY LEGACY? I should beat your punk little ass, right here and right now.

Syn steps even closer to the Sinner, his cocky smile still on his face as he locks eyes with the feared Strife. Both men continue the stare down for several seconds, before Syn throws his arms out and up at an angle as he looks up to the heavens.

Take a good look at Syn, I stand before you to show YOU, what a real true God is. I look forward to taking your crown, your title, your throne, and sending you permantly away from the Mount of Olympus. You may call me a young pup, you may even call me wet behind the ears, but take head Mr. Strife. For standing in front of you is the real King, and I will take your throne, I will take your title, hell I will take your crown and have you buried under the Mount of Olympus. Why? Because I am the true GOD KING, and you are nothing more then a broken, wretched, shell of what you claim to be.

Vladimir, feels a fire burning within, the words of this brass, young superstar, setting off a fire deep in his very soul. The Titan of the Gods looks into the eyes once again of Syn, this stare down again continues for several seconds, before the arms come out and up and the Father of Syn looks to the heavens once again. Syn then turns and walks away, leaving the Bambi Killer alone with his thoughts.

TBC or EOT

[Vladimir Strife]

With his would-be successor gone, the GodKing steps into his office at last. He looks around the room, almost as if taking in inventory, while rage seethes and rises behind his eyes. The legend grabs the edge of his desk, holding tightly onto it as he leans against, head hung down. A moment later and a deep, guttural growl bellows from deep down inside him. The Romanian snaps up, flipping the desk over with a loud crash, everything on it's surface tumbling to the gray carpeting.

He turns and grabs onto a nearby cabinet, tossing it to the ground, glass shattering as it hits. Leaning back against his turned over desk, the Titan breathes heavily, holding onto his wounded chest before a cough takes over him. He drops to his knees and coughs more, his face growing more red by the moment until it finally relents and his shallow breathing speeds up.

The Barbarian Lord's night of glory had been denied to him. As he rises back to his feet, eyes following the trail of blood that leads back from where he entered, his wrath swells, burning deep within and consuming him. His career was coming to an end, but he still had enough gas in the tank to see it through and before that time came, his arch nemesis would be made to suffer.