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 The Demon Within

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Brandon Bash
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Posts : 102
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Join date : 2012-04-16
Age : 28
Status : #WickedPrayerInc.

PostSubject: The Demon Within   Wed Jun 20, 2012 1:28 am

This Past Saturday on Overdrive...

My trademark sadistic grin crept across my lips as I stood at ringside, my theme music had just faded out. I had just nearly caused Mason DeAngelo to get pinned in this triple threat match. Oh, how much I would have loved that. He kicked out, however, and proved that he really is Prime Time by taking down both of his opponents. He was looking between the two, trying to decide which one he wanted to finish off first. He was backing up, looking to bounce off of the ropes...so I decided to make my move to get inside of his head. To really grind his gears. I hopped up, grabbing the top rope, and pulled it down. Instead of bouncing off the ropes, Mason tumbled to the outside. Just my luck, the referee didn't see it. I had backed off, backing up the ramp by the time Mason had climbed up to his feet. Inside of the ring, Jared Caine had finished Riddick Monix off with the Twist of Hate and got the pin. Mason looked at me, enraged. I pointed at him, flashing my trademark smirk, and shouted, "Not really a man, huh!?" That seemed to really piss him off more. I just laughed, as I turned around and headed back through the curtain in which I had come out of...

Tuesday, three days later. Mid-afternoonish...

There was a live Warfare Entertainment Wrestling event going on in Sacremento, California leading up to this weeks Overdrive in Daly City. I was standing backstage in the gorilla position, waiting to make my entrance for my first promo for the triple threat match to decide the finalists to see who will be the first ever Revolution Champion. Mason DeAngelo had already made an appearance a few days ago and shot a promo, so I figured it was time for me to respond. Suddenly, "The Last Fight" by Bullet For My Valentine began to blare throughout the p.a systems as the lights flickered off.



The crowd jumped to their feet, seeing as how I'm pretty well known in this state since ECWF's home arena was in Los Angeles. The titan tron lit up showing clips from past matches from Anarchy Wrestling Organization, W.E.W as well as a few from ECWF. I stepped through the curtain about thirty-five seconds into the song. A spotlight shown down on me as I stepped through, and the crowd went insane. I couldn't help but flash a grin as this happened. I could be seen wearing a black suit, the suit jacket unbuttoned to reveal a white dress shirt underneath. A red tie hung loosely around my neck, seeing as how I had just loosened it up about ten minutes ago. It was pretty fucking hot. The crowd and lights didn't help that fact. My short, dark brown hair was somewhat styled, though mostly messy thanks to the sweat. I made my way down the ramp at a decent pace, reaching my palms out to both sides to allow fans to slap me some high-fives before I rolled into the ring underneath the bottom rope. The time keeper at ringside had slid a microphone into the ring, as I kipped up to my feet I stepped over to it and picked it up. "The Last Fight" began to fade away, as I stepped into the middle of the ring, soaking in the Brandon Bash chants. I began to step around the ring a bit, a big smile across my lips, before finally stepping back into the middle of the ring and signalling for the crowd to quiet down. It still took a minute or so for them to calm down, but they finally did. I chuckled a bit to myself, as I lifted the microphone up to my lips.

Brandon Bash
You know, it sure does feel pretty fucking great to be back in Californ-I-A...

The crowd once again erupted in cheers. I flashed a small smirk, wishing I hadn't just said that. I once again signaled for them to quiet down, and surprisingly, it didn't take as long as the first time for them to do so.

Brandon Bash
Thank you all for that welcome back, but I came out here to get down to business. No offense to you guys. But, you see...I am main eventing this weeks episode of Warfare Entertainment Wrestling's Saturday Night Overdrive in a triple threat match to decide who the finalists in the Revolution Championship Tournament shall be. The three men are as followed. Myself, of course. Mason DeAngelo, who we have all heard from not too long ago. And Raphael di Ashamalamawhocareswhathislastnameis. Now...personally, I am looking to go into this match and prove that not only do I deserve to be in the finals of the tournament, but I also deserve to be the first ever Revolution Champion!

Once again, the crowd went wild. I flashed my trademark sadistic grin before I spoke into the microphone again.

Brandon Bash
Now...if you watched this passed Saturday's Overdrive, you'll know who I'm looking forward to face at Genesis next month. Plus, I haven't really made it that much of a secret the weeks before, either. And I know that everyone is looking forward to finally seeing the one-on-one confrontation between myself and Mason DeAngelo. But, I have been asked..."What if?" I wondered to myself for a while, "What if what?" I thought about it long and hard, and to be honest...I don't believe there will be a "what if?" scenerio here. I don't see any chance that Raphael di Acciaioli the Fourth will be able to sneak his way past myself or Mason DeAngelo. You see...I have already made sure that it won't happen when I cost Mason any chance of victory on Overdrive last week. Raphael, you are nothing compared to the likes of myself and Mason DeAngelo. No one is expecting to see you in the finals at Genesis. You know why that is, Raphael? You're boring. You put people to sleep when you're in the ring. You may have been able to cheat and sneak your way up to this point, but I can assure you that you won't be able to this week. I don't care if Mason thinks that he's going to be the one to take you out, he's dead wrong. I am making it my mission to be the one to hand you your first submission loss here, Raphael. Since you like to lock people in your Sixteenth Century Strech and make them tap out...I'm going to introduce you to the Dallas Deathlock. You see, I've been waiting for the right opportunity to introduce the Warfare Entertainment Wrestling world to this nifty little submission of mine. I picked it up when I had to go out to Japan for a few months due to business during a hiatus I took from the ring. Got taught personally from the Japanese woman who uses it. Yeah, that's right...a woman came up with the move. It's a lethal crucifix armbar that pretty much is capable of letting me rip your shoulder right out of it's fucking socket. Go ahead, Raphael. Study the move. Read up on it. Try to find a way out of it before tapping out like the little bitch that we all know you are. Even if you do find a way out, it won't stop me from answering your Wicked Prayer and just locking it back in afterwards. You don't stand a damn chance at all, Raphael. But, speaking of prayers...I believe I was told to "pray to my God" by Mason DeAngelo. I gotta tell you, Mason...that sure did give me quite a little giggle. It even got a good laugh out of my daughter, Skye.

I lowered the microphone from my lips for a moment, letting out a few chuckles after that last remark. See? I really did think it was funny. No lie.

Brandon Bash
Mason DeAngelo. Mister "Prime Time" of the Dubbya E Dubbya. I've told you in the past that there is no denying your wrestling ability. But denying my own? You haven't even had the chance to see what I am capable of doing in that ring. I have been holding back ever since I first stepped foot into this company, waiting for the opportune time to truly unleash havoc upon any opponent before me. I have yet to get an actual challenge in this business in nearly three years, with the exception of my match with my good friend and rival Raymond LaPointe back in April. You see...I haven't even really had the chance to show the world at how technical I can really get. Everyone around the world knows Brandon Bash as one of the most extreme men to ever step foot in a wrestling ring. I've had many hardcore icons tell me that they wish they could take some of the falls or bumps I have and keep going. Sure, I can swing a chair. I can take a chair shot. I can wrap myself in barbwire and use my own body to punish those who stand before me. But I came to this company to show everyone my true wrestling ability. And just the thought of stepping into the ring with you, one-on-one...it makes me believe that I just might finally get the chance to show the world a little bit of my abilities. Because you see, Mason...your ego blinds you of the truth. You claim to be the "Greatest Wrestler in the World," but you're the farthest thing from it. I'll believe it when you pin my shoulders down for the three count, which hasn't happened in over three years. I am a wolf in sheep's clothing. A demon in disguise. I am the Reaper of Wicked Prayers. There is a reason I have never gone into a match, giving everything I have...yet, I tell the world that's exactly what I do in every match. The truth is, I have been lying all of these years. Even during the matches I have lost, even when they meant so much. Because...I am just too afraid to unleash hell upon anyone. The pain and anguish I have given to opponents in the past...have just been a way of me to relieve the demon inside's anger. To feed it just a little bit without letting it take control. The way I grew up...it caused me to have this demon inside. It caused me to relinquish all of my emotions. Yet, one woman was able to make me forget about the demon within. At least, for a little while. It's a different story every week I step into that ring. Every week, the demon within's hunger grows and grows. Who knows, Mason...maybe at Genesis, you will get to see what I am truly capable of in that ring. Now it is I who am asking you to pray to your own God. Pray that this doesn't happen. Because if it does...it just might not only be the end of your career. But it just as may be the end of your own life. I will be the first ever Revolution Champion. I will be victorious this Saturday, as well as at Genesis next month. And I will be the one to crush your confidence, as well as your ego, Mason DeAngelo. And if you think that I haven't gotten into your head, then you're a fool. Because so far, you're playing right into the palm of my hands...

The crowd had grown silent, unsure of what to think after the words I had just spoken. My trademark sadistic grin grew into that of an eerie smile, as I dropped the microphone to the mat. "The Last Fight" began to blare once again, as I climbed out of the ring and headed up the ramp towards the backstage area. The scene would then fade to black...

END
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