Post by Immanuel Taylor on Dec 25, 2010 12:06:01 GMT -5
TITAN had all the trust beaten out of him early in this world. Every last drop of goddamned innocence, every last microcosm of a goddamned possibility of growing up to be a goddamned normal human being had been sucked out of TITAN’s goddamned veins. From that cunt of a mother who left him to rot in that orphanage to the authorities who locked him up in that horrific juvenile hall, TITAN had been pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed. Well not anymore. Screw that. Screw that and to hell with anyone who treated TITAN as if he was a nobody. As if he was some kind of freak you can point at and laugh. He’d rip out your tongue and stitch it back and then, out of pure spite, rip it out again.
Inside TITAN’s massive infrastructure, beneath all those muscles and rigidity, lay a frighteningly black void. Nothing. That was what TITAN felt all the time. For anyone unfortunate enough to grow up into one of these pitiful states, the best they can hope for is some kind of substitute for emotions such as Joy and Compassion that we humans take for granted. For TITAN, the fix was anger. Pure, seething anger that made him look you in the eyes with those monstrous eyes of his and make you feel as if you were about to die, as if this deranged, huge man is literally going to kill you.
However, there were, are and will be times where TITAN indeed feels warm and cozy when he’s tearing your spine out of your back or when he is stepping down on your neck and watching how those little funny green veins pop out of your forehead. There was a particular individual whose neck TITAN wanted to suffocate by stepping on.
Chris fucking Sabora.
When it came to EUW’s talented submission machine, TITAN found himself increasingly wanting to kill Chris Sabora. The feelings of hostility towards the submission machine were spontaneous but very strong. What Sabora had done to TITAN to solicit such extreme reactions is unclear. TITAN just hated the prick. He hated his schoolboy haircut, he hated his artsy-fartsy martial arts background, he hated those irritating submission maneuvers, he hated his entrance music, he hated the color of his wrestling attire, he hated how when Chris opened his mouth to speak, you could actually see that pink thing that hangs at the back of your mouth throbbing. He plainly hated Chris Sabora.
TITAN wanted to kill Chris Sabora, but not immediately. First he’d beat him at Blood Red Horizons and take his title away. Then TITAN would give him a rematch but he’ll purposefully not show up to the ring just to piss Sabora off. Then, after Sabora is done with his threats and insults, TITAN would give him another rematch but he won’t show up again. You know, to piss him off more. Then he’ll give him a third re-match but this time he’ll show up and kill Chris Sabora just before the ring bell goes off.
It’s not too hard to kill someone. It really isn’t. You have to keep in mind that it’s about restricting mobility. That’s the key. You take him down and keep him down, and then you could do anything to him. Anything.
When you gotta pin him down to the ground, a simple running spear would do you just fine. Then you gotta grab a hold of his neck, the sweet spot, and you gotta twist and turn it until you hear a snap. Not even a martial arts hotshot like Sabora could wiggle his way out from underneath TITAN’s massive body in time to avoid death. TITAN wasn't delivering Sabora to death. He himself is Death.
And then at Chris Sabora’s funeral, when Chris’ poor little daughter is on her knees, crying her little eyes out at the horrifying experience of losing a father, TITAN would come fully dressed in a tuxedo and sit next to her. He’d put his arm around her gently and, with the utmost level of compassion, whisper very clearly into her ears: Your daddy died like a two-dollar whore.
Exactly how a “two-dollar whore” dies is ambiguous at best, but it fits and TITAN would say it with the utmost glee, shattering the last strands of sanity Sabora’s little daughter would have. Then he could snap her goddamned neck and turn her into a paraplegic for the rest of her goddamned, ugly life. Maybe he’ll spare some motion in her index fingers and thumbs. You know, so she can still color with crayons and play with glue.
TITAN’s anger always took a morbid turn but the little daughter aspect was a first. Still, he would have to be patient for his need to snap Sabora’s neck. In the meantime, he can relinquish his thirst by feeding on Diabolik come their contest.
TITAN actually wanted to eat Diabolik just to see if he could literally do that.
It would be funny having Diabolik hop on out to his entrance music, all ready and pumped for an exciting bout of Professional Wrestling only to have TITAN sneak from behind him and bite his fucking head off and literally consume it on national television. Diabolik wouldn’t be able to resist if TITAN came from behind. He’d grab Diabolik by the arms, you know, to position him, and then he’d open wide and take a huge bite out of him from the top to as much of the bottom that TITAN’s jaw can reach. Worst case scenario: TITAN’s teeth would end up slitting Diabolik’s throat and he’d die before TITAN could do any real damage to the boy. This would deprive TITAN from the sight of seeing Diabolik’s body run around headless while his head rots in TITAN’s intestines.
Diabolik reminded TITAN of another boy he once faced. Eddie Laurel. Cute kid, handsome, has that British sex appeal working out for him. He came to EUW with high hopes and dreams, so young and nubile. Maybe he had entertained dreams of “making it to the top”, figuratively, or perhaps he simply dared to compete. The boy had dreams and he came to EUW to fulfill them. Then his path crossed with TITAN’s path and TITAN hung him from the ring. He literally tied a noose around Laurel’s neck and hung him from his neck by the ropes. The boy survived. Barely.
Come Monday or Tuesday or Wednesday or whenever the hell December 28th is, TITAN is going to chew Diabolik and, maybe, spit him out. Or maybe completely consume him. Or maybe TITAN can just crush Diabolik with his balls, but he’ll make sure that whatever it is that he does to Diabolik, Chris Sabora of all people gets to see it very clearly and viscerally vividly. After Diabolik comes Chris Sabora and after Chris Sabora comes Chris Sabora’s daughter and then maybe he can go after that irritating manager of his, the 200-year old Terry Jones. Put him through a window and see how impressive his managerial skills are when he has to speak with a face full of glass shards. Maybe then he can give TITAN a goddamned career assessment.
TITAN already has the career he wants and he is going to reach its pinnacle. He could feel the World Title, feel it fastened around his waist or draped over his gargantuan shoulder, he could feel that…that feeling you experience when you’re the world champion. You know that feeling. When you are the guy, when you are the one who matters, when it is you standing there in the limelight with your chest forward, shoulders backward, chin up, and your name etched upon that gold palate. T-I-T-A-N.
TITAN saw it, saw all the glamour and ungodly power that comes with being the man on the top. He also saw the graveyard of EUW, littered with people who have killed each other to wear that very same title, only to get trampled on by the next upcoming youngster and on and on and on and on. The World Title would destroy you after taking you to heights once thought unreachable. But that didn’t matter for TITAN.
It didn’t matter that he would one day get tired, that in years the new generation will come in and he’ll get pushed out of the memories of EUW’s new generation of fans. It didn’t matter that the World Title, the Crown of EUW, had caused the end of all the careers of many EUW wrestlers. What mattered was simply wearing it, was having your name on it.
That alone gave TITAN all the reason he needed to kill.
