Post by Vladimir Strife on Apr 13, 2019 20:12:00 GMT -4
Within the halls of the Jared Nathan Memorial Gymnasium, we unexpectedly find the view of an dimly lit empty corridor. It stays as such for nearly a dozen seconds, seeming almost as if someone has accidentally struck a button to start a live feed without reason. Suddenly, from halfway down the length of it, Vladimir Strife emerges, stopping in his track as his gaze meets the camera from the distance. The telltale signs of confusion begin to take over his features.
"Uh... what the fuck are you doing here, Carlos?"
There's no response as Vladimir continues to look at the camera and wait.
"You know you aren't invisible, right? I very clearly see you standing right there behind the camera.."
Finally, a meek voice acknowledges him off screen.
"Uhmm.. yeah.. sorry. I was told I was supposed to be filming you when you come into the hallway and follow you as you go to your office.."
Vlad massages his temples and sighs heavily, his confusion having given way to frustration.
"Do you know where he's hiding?"
"W-what?"
"Work through this here with me, Carlos.."
"Okay..."
"How long has it been since we were on air?"
"I don't know... like a few years, I think?"
"And someone, I'm guessing Crystov, has asked you to come here and film this. Right?"
"Uh.. yeah.."
"So why would he do that?"
Carlos is quiet for a moment, his brain taking a while to put the pieces together while racked with fear at being addressed by Vladimir, who usually acted as though he weren't even there.
"..to get the shot of you walking?"
The Czar of Scars pinches the bridge of his nose.
"How? How can you possibly be this dense when you're basically the only employee I have that hasn't had their head bashed in at least a dozen times?"
Carlos, not quite grasping the rhetorical nature of the question, meekly responds.
"..I don't know.. I just film what people tell me to, I don't really think about why.."
Vlad shakes his head and lowers it into his rising open palm.
"Fair enough.. Just, follow me, keep that damn thing steady and give people something to watch. Just give me a meep or something if you see someone sneaking up on me or you're fired."
"..Okay.."
The GodKing begins to move towards the camera at last, passing by it as the view swings to catch him from behind heading towards the end of the hall. He takes a left when there and pauses again, it taking a moment for the camera's view to catch up with him and help those watching understand why. Before him, his office door is flanked on each side by large men in black professional bodyguard attire. They take notice of Vladimir, but make no motion or sound as he begins to move toward them at last. He stands before the door, half expecting them to step into his path, but they remain in place, having being given orders not to keep him from entering. The Romanian twists the doorknob and swings the door open, predictably finding Crystov in the seat behind his desk, grinning.
"Look... I already told you just to name wherever and whenever you want to go and I'll beat the shit out of you in front of the world. I planned on taking care of the camera crews, security and all that.. so why are you sitting here before me looking to do it on your own expense?"
"Oh, I'm not here to fight you Vlad. If you want, you can go right ahead and see yourself out."
Vladimir sighs and begins to move toward the desk when the guards that had been outside the door suddenly each take him by an arm. He yanks hard and frees his right arm before shooting it back and smacking the point of his elbow into the cheek of one guard, sending him sprawling into the hallway. Before he can address the other, a nightstick catches the back of his knee and forces it to buckles. Another swat reigns down onto his back, sending him tumbling into the front of this desk. He winces, slowly starting to drag himself back up before the guard he knocked down comes rushing in, slamming the heel of his boot into Vlad's back and knocking him to the ground.
"Don't take your eyes off of him, boys. He never has known when to give it up."
"I don't know what you're on about this time, Crystov, but we both know how this is going to end, so why don't you let these assholes get home to their families and take your beating like a man?"
Crystov grins wide and stands up, making his way around the desk and looking down at Vlad.
"You know.. for once, I don't think you do know how this one ends, Vlad."
"You see.. I spent so much time wondering how to take you down, trying to plot how I was going to destroy you, because I'm not an idiot, in spite of what you tend to presume of people. I know full and well that, when we do get into that ring together, the odds are that I'm not going to win. You're Vladimir Strife... one of the best of all times... someone that everyone has tried to take down and very few have managed to succeed to do so. Sure, I'll get my shots in and I will make you suffer and if there is ANY way that I can beat you Vladimir, I promise you I will because I'm going to bring everything that I have! But I'm not satisfied with MAYBE beating you in that ring, no no no."
Strife tries to push himself up, looking to shut the Reaper up, but another hard strike of the billy club brings him back low.
"Do you remember what I told you about your little accident, Vlad?"
"That you're a coward and messed with my prescription because you don't have the balls to face me in the ring like a man? Yeah, I remember.."
Crystov rolls his eyes and chuckles.
"Remember where you ended up? After your precious little streak was snapped?"
"..Yeah, they committed me to a fucking mental ward. I've already got plenty of incentive to rip you apart limb from limb, Crystov, you can go ahead and shut up for once."
Suddenly, the GodKing rears his fist back into the crotch of the guard that had been pummeling him, doubling him over. He pushes up to one knee and twists around, bringing his other balled up fist into the side of the man's face and sending him flailing into the wall. He turns toward the other, but catches a taste of his nightstick this time right to the stomach and folds himself before dropping onto his rear. The smile on Razetti's face is stretched from ear to ear at this point as he watches on.
"You raped one of your employees, Vladimir.. You tried to hang another... and then you tried to kill your fellow co-owner several times. This is professional wrestling and it's a most fantastical world inside of that ring, but you're so fixated on what goes on in there and what it takes to get you another win in there that you hardly even noticed what goes on outside of it, here in the real world, Vladdy. You see, a crazy GodKing decimating people like that.. well, it makes for some REALLY good ratings on tv, but it's not exactly what you want in someone running the company."
"God, please tell me this isn't what I sound like when I'm going on a rant... get to the fucking point while you still have teeth.."
Another club across the back makes Vlad groan in pain and revives the perk in Razetti's smile.
"Well, with you in the nuthouse and it unsure if you'd ever be mentally capable of running EVPW again, SOMEONE had to be responsible for your stake in the company, Vlad.."
"Fuck you. There's no way they'd put you into that position. They couldn't without my permission."
"Oh, no, you're entirely right, Vladimir. They wouldn't put that on ME..."
Strife's eyes go wide in a realization before he winces them again.
"Daphne.."
"But you couldn't exactly be surprised if a woman in her position, having just been nearly killed by the actions of her husband and having their family torn apart, didn't really want anything to do with EVPW, now could you?"
Vladimir remains quiet, Crystov waiting a moment to give him a chance to say something before continuing.
"Thankfully, I was ever so kind as to take it off of her hands and compensate her more than fairly."
The GodKing finally grunts out a response.
"You're full of shit.. there's no way.. if you had, you wouldn't have waited until now to pull rank.."
"Of course not! Me - scheming and being facetious and sneaky? Ohhh, I would NEVER do something like that!"
Sarcasm drips off of the Reaper's every word, the grin plastered across his lips all the evidence needed to know that he wasn't bluffing.
"Well, congrats.. you're now the proud owner of a dead company worth nothing. Doesn't change a damned thing and you know it."
"Oh, but it does, Vlad. You see, as you know all too well, you gave me access to the companies files long ago so that I could do what you needed done but didn't want to get your hands dirty doing.. This company may be about as dead as can be, but all of those contracts? Well, most of them are still active.. most of your stars never got the opportunity to perform in the number of matches that their contracts were stipulated for because of everything unraveling so quickly."
"So what? You're going to call them up and whine that they technically owe you matches?"
"Oh, I'm no whiner, Vlad.. but we both know that opportunities in this business are limited. And the lawsuits that they would face if they did break their contractual obligations.. well, that'd be pretty bad for them financially, wouldn't it?"
"You son of a - "
Another thwack of the billy club makes Vlad's legs go out from under them as he tries to plant them on the ground to go after the Reaper.
"You wanted a time and place, Vlad... in MY ring.. April 28th. Now that EVPW is finally free from your control, it's time for it to rise once again... From the Ashes, one might say."
Crystov paces towards the GodKing, holding his hand out to take the nightstick from his bodyguard.
"It's such a short time away though... I'm afraid I have a LOT of work to do between now and then, Vlad.. Do me a favor and see your way out when you're able."
As Strife lifts his head to face him, the nightstick catches him across the temple with a sickening noise and he crumbles into a heap on the ground. Razetti, donning a satisfied and smug smile, steps over the former CEO of EVPW and leaves his new office, eager to begin the preparations of his most sinister scheme yet.
"Uh... what the fuck are you doing here, Carlos?"
There's no response as Vladimir continues to look at the camera and wait.
"You know you aren't invisible, right? I very clearly see you standing right there behind the camera.."
Finally, a meek voice acknowledges him off screen.
"Uhmm.. yeah.. sorry. I was told I was supposed to be filming you when you come into the hallway and follow you as you go to your office.."
Vlad massages his temples and sighs heavily, his confusion having given way to frustration.
"Do you know where he's hiding?"
"W-what?"
"Work through this here with me, Carlos.."
"Okay..."
"How long has it been since we were on air?"
"I don't know... like a few years, I think?"
"And someone, I'm guessing Crystov, has asked you to come here and film this. Right?"
"Uh.. yeah.."
"So why would he do that?"
Carlos is quiet for a moment, his brain taking a while to put the pieces together while racked with fear at being addressed by Vladimir, who usually acted as though he weren't even there.
"..to get the shot of you walking?"
The Czar of Scars pinches the bridge of his nose.
"How? How can you possibly be this dense when you're basically the only employee I have that hasn't had their head bashed in at least a dozen times?"
Carlos, not quite grasping the rhetorical nature of the question, meekly responds.
"..I don't know.. I just film what people tell me to, I don't really think about why.."
Vlad shakes his head and lowers it into his rising open palm.
"Fair enough.. Just, follow me, keep that damn thing steady and give people something to watch. Just give me a meep or something if you see someone sneaking up on me or you're fired."
"..Okay.."
The GodKing begins to move towards the camera at last, passing by it as the view swings to catch him from behind heading towards the end of the hall. He takes a left when there and pauses again, it taking a moment for the camera's view to catch up with him and help those watching understand why. Before him, his office door is flanked on each side by large men in black professional bodyguard attire. They take notice of Vladimir, but make no motion or sound as he begins to move toward them at last. He stands before the door, half expecting them to step into his path, but they remain in place, having being given orders not to keep him from entering. The Romanian twists the doorknob and swings the door open, predictably finding Crystov in the seat behind his desk, grinning.
"Look... I already told you just to name wherever and whenever you want to go and I'll beat the shit out of you in front of the world. I planned on taking care of the camera crews, security and all that.. so why are you sitting here before me looking to do it on your own expense?"
"Oh, I'm not here to fight you Vlad. If you want, you can go right ahead and see yourself out."
Vladimir sighs and begins to move toward the desk when the guards that had been outside the door suddenly each take him by an arm. He yanks hard and frees his right arm before shooting it back and smacking the point of his elbow into the cheek of one guard, sending him sprawling into the hallway. Before he can address the other, a nightstick catches the back of his knee and forces it to buckles. Another swat reigns down onto his back, sending him tumbling into the front of this desk. He winces, slowly starting to drag himself back up before the guard he knocked down comes rushing in, slamming the heel of his boot into Vlad's back and knocking him to the ground.
"Don't take your eyes off of him, boys. He never has known when to give it up."
"I don't know what you're on about this time, Crystov, but we both know how this is going to end, so why don't you let these assholes get home to their families and take your beating like a man?"
Crystov grins wide and stands up, making his way around the desk and looking down at Vlad.
"You know.. for once, I don't think you do know how this one ends, Vlad."
"You see.. I spent so much time wondering how to take you down, trying to plot how I was going to destroy you, because I'm not an idiot, in spite of what you tend to presume of people. I know full and well that, when we do get into that ring together, the odds are that I'm not going to win. You're Vladimir Strife... one of the best of all times... someone that everyone has tried to take down and very few have managed to succeed to do so. Sure, I'll get my shots in and I will make you suffer and if there is ANY way that I can beat you Vladimir, I promise you I will because I'm going to bring everything that I have! But I'm not satisfied with MAYBE beating you in that ring, no no no."
Strife tries to push himself up, looking to shut the Reaper up, but another hard strike of the billy club brings him back low.
"Do you remember what I told you about your little accident, Vlad?"
"That you're a coward and messed with my prescription because you don't have the balls to face me in the ring like a man? Yeah, I remember.."
Crystov rolls his eyes and chuckles.
"Remember where you ended up? After your precious little streak was snapped?"
"..Yeah, they committed me to a fucking mental ward. I've already got plenty of incentive to rip you apart limb from limb, Crystov, you can go ahead and shut up for once."
Suddenly, the GodKing rears his fist back into the crotch of the guard that had been pummeling him, doubling him over. He pushes up to one knee and twists around, bringing his other balled up fist into the side of the man's face and sending him flailing into the wall. He turns toward the other, but catches a taste of his nightstick this time right to the stomach and folds himself before dropping onto his rear. The smile on Razetti's face is stretched from ear to ear at this point as he watches on.
"You raped one of your employees, Vladimir.. You tried to hang another... and then you tried to kill your fellow co-owner several times. This is professional wrestling and it's a most fantastical world inside of that ring, but you're so fixated on what goes on in there and what it takes to get you another win in there that you hardly even noticed what goes on outside of it, here in the real world, Vladdy. You see, a crazy GodKing decimating people like that.. well, it makes for some REALLY good ratings on tv, but it's not exactly what you want in someone running the company."
"God, please tell me this isn't what I sound like when I'm going on a rant... get to the fucking point while you still have teeth.."
Another club across the back makes Vlad groan in pain and revives the perk in Razetti's smile.
"Well, with you in the nuthouse and it unsure if you'd ever be mentally capable of running EVPW again, SOMEONE had to be responsible for your stake in the company, Vlad.."
"Fuck you. There's no way they'd put you into that position. They couldn't without my permission."
"Oh, no, you're entirely right, Vladimir. They wouldn't put that on ME..."
Strife's eyes go wide in a realization before he winces them again.
"Daphne.."
"But you couldn't exactly be surprised if a woman in her position, having just been nearly killed by the actions of her husband and having their family torn apart, didn't really want anything to do with EVPW, now could you?"
Vladimir remains quiet, Crystov waiting a moment to give him a chance to say something before continuing.
"Thankfully, I was ever so kind as to take it off of her hands and compensate her more than fairly."
The GodKing finally grunts out a response.
"You're full of shit.. there's no way.. if you had, you wouldn't have waited until now to pull rank.."
"Of course not! Me - scheming and being facetious and sneaky? Ohhh, I would NEVER do something like that!"
Sarcasm drips off of the Reaper's every word, the grin plastered across his lips all the evidence needed to know that he wasn't bluffing.
"Well, congrats.. you're now the proud owner of a dead company worth nothing. Doesn't change a damned thing and you know it."
"Oh, but it does, Vlad. You see, as you know all too well, you gave me access to the companies files long ago so that I could do what you needed done but didn't want to get your hands dirty doing.. This company may be about as dead as can be, but all of those contracts? Well, most of them are still active.. most of your stars never got the opportunity to perform in the number of matches that their contracts were stipulated for because of everything unraveling so quickly."
"So what? You're going to call them up and whine that they technically owe you matches?"
"Oh, I'm no whiner, Vlad.. but we both know that opportunities in this business are limited. And the lawsuits that they would face if they did break their contractual obligations.. well, that'd be pretty bad for them financially, wouldn't it?"
"You son of a - "
Another thwack of the billy club makes Vlad's legs go out from under them as he tries to plant them on the ground to go after the Reaper.
"You wanted a time and place, Vlad... in MY ring.. April 28th. Now that EVPW is finally free from your control, it's time for it to rise once again... From the Ashes, one might say."
Crystov paces towards the GodKing, holding his hand out to take the nightstick from his bodyguard.
"It's such a short time away though... I'm afraid I have a LOT of work to do between now and then, Vlad.. Do me a favor and see your way out when you're able."
As Strife lifts his head to face him, the nightstick catches him across the temple with a sickening noise and he crumbles into a heap on the ground. Razetti, donning a satisfied and smug smile, steps over the former CEO of EVPW and leaves his new office, eager to begin the preparations of his most sinister scheme yet.
