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Author Topic: "The Dead May Not Die"  (Read 113 times)

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Offline Alexis Mercer

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"The Dead May Not Die"
« on: February 05, 2018, 03:04:06 AM »


More scattered clouds passed the bright yellow bulb in the sky as everything started to get in the upper sixties. Not that most living in Albuquerque would notice after waking up this morning to a police investigation into a brutal convenience store robbery on Indian School Road. Emergency units race through the streets to Presbyterian Hospital. Dripping of water is heard before the cameras faded in from darkness to view the silhouette of a small rodent scouring around a dark sewer tower underneath the city seeking food. The rat stops after a while propping a paw on a small stone ramble to raise himself up extending his neck out smelling the air. The air to us was common for the mouse, a strong scent of fecal matter and decay, that linger in the nostrils.

It carried on walking along the narrow edge. Suddenly, the creature spots this raised platform where a piece of cheese was placed and made the rat to carefully start approaching the wooden plaque inch by inch. It smells this delectable treat and it was too tempting to ignore. One of the rodentís paws lifted onto the platform until something snaps trapping the rat as it twitched then nothing.

ďNothing like a fresh kill.Ē A familiar voice spoke.

Alexis picks up this dead carcass with one hand while the other was holding a homemade ice pack on her neck after what had happened last week against the match with Mark Storm and his German Suplexes. She wore a torn black tee that had been cut mid-waist and a pair of dirty white jeans. Alexis carries the rodent to a large brown bag that was full of other dead creatures just like this one before strolling over to a big barred up sewer drain. Alexis pulls herself up to the higher level and then reaches into her pocket. Seemed Alexis was living down here since the company settled for this to be their home for Adrenaline Eighty.

Inside everything was tunnels and large pipes. Must be some underground sewerage system that connected everything leading out to the Rio Grande river. Alexis Mercer props her left foot against the curve of the cemented sewer pipe, along the other leg to dangle over to the side. She reached over to her side feeling the murky water of New Mexico further soak the fabric of her jeans and the bottom of her ass. Her hands lifted. They held a wooden stake and a pocket knife. Alexis started chipping away as wooden pieces splashed down below in the small stream beneath her spot sitting high. 4CW Adrenaline was another week away from having themselves a massacre on their hands as the pay-per-view loomed in the corner of everyone's mind. A massacre that the world had yet to see from the Anti-Starlet after being dominated people began questioning could she take down anyone challenging at all.

Most people would stick to the past. Allow such thoughts to haunt them every day for the rest of their lives letting feelings consume her until she cracked inside. However, Alexis Mercer was a highly functional sociopath. Those type of trivial thoughts had no place in her advanced mind. She had to move forward and not dwell on past events. She always moved forward to the next target because Alexis Mercer doesnít like to dwell on past events. Facing men like Dakota and Viduus together you kinda have to anyway. They were dangerously separated but together they were they were deadly as a team. Besides, if one gets the reaction they wanted, though. Does that really count as a loss? Sure. The record books read that Mark Storm destroyed Alexis Mercer. It was well documented. However, the aftermath tells a different story about a broken mind penetrated of all thought; a slither of doubt sneaked inside the egotastic mind of everyoneís favorite hero. It almost worked - and thatís an award in itself given the confidence level of Mark Storm.
ďDakota Smith and Viduus versus Andre Holmes and Alexis Mercer,Ē Alexis said, continuing to chop away. ďAnother tag team match. Another tag team match that will end up becoming who wants to kill their partner first scenario. Itís another tag team match where trust can no longer apply. Dakota and Viduus are not going to be working out strategies together just like me and numbnuts wonít be training together to make sure everything is in-sync with each other like a normal team should.Ē

Both Dakota Smith and Viduus Morta were at odds with each other since Viduus cost him the one championship that Dakota had more experience in holding than anything else. He is violence Dakota Smith used to claim. He used to be the living embodiment of violence since the moment Dakota entered the wrestling world being thrown off a beer truck by family. Violence was his life. Viduus stole that from him by returning and costing him the match for the XTV Championship against Genie Carlson.

ďHaving two psychopaths on opposite teams carrying two zealous motherfuckers as partners. Well, I mean, let me correct that, we really arenít similar in any way. Iím more of a highly intelligent person that can control their violent impulses while Iím guessing as soon as you walked into kindergarten class you stabbed the first kid that pissed you off with a pencil because they wanted a crayon. Thatís okay though because people like all flavors of this dysfunctional chaotic family tree. I know all about the uncontrollable impulses speaking to you and wanting you to instantly kill anything on sight. It is almost unbearable to contain those urges.

Believe me, I know. I tested my violent outburst on a person when I was fourteen. How many times have you been arrested for some of your past crimes Dakota Jackson Smith? Sixty? Eighty? I wouldnít know about that life. Iíve only been caught once. I even got a certificate for anticipating. Now I love Genie and all given everything weíve been through in the past but if anyone has experience with the dead. Thereís no denying that we know exactly what to do with dead bodies. Their cold fleshy feeling is an addiction to people like us Dakota weíre not sick they just donít understand us. If thereís anything Iíve learned from horror movies and playing video games over the years. If you want to kill the undead, you need to chop their heads off then burn the remains.

Personally, I thought Michael Myers should have stayed dead after the second movie much like Jason Voorhees. It just becomes stupid after a while explaining how they come back whole like nothing happened. If you want my opinion I prefer Norman Bates. Once he died Norman Bates stayed dead. Thatís the thing about your kind. Your brains are always wired in attack mode. Always speaking about violence first. Thereís no art in that, Dakota. Thereís no fun in just murdering people. Whatever happened to winning the world championship off of Bronx Valescence? You were set to become the new holder before hopping over to try your hand at becoming the XTV Champion once more. Maybe something inside of you is telling you to wake the fuck up because that life of being world champion is done. Maybe itís telling you that you donít have the fucking balls to be world champion and beat Bronx when the title is on the line anymore. You have to revert back to your primal instinct. Violence. Which is fine by me, I have no problem slicing a few throats. We all know the only belt with that kind of rules is the XTV Championship. Itís the only thing that youíre good at besides surviving multiple deaths.

In fact, you havenít held a single title victory since March of last year. It was taken away from you by some cunt that isnít even employed in Four Corners Wrestling anymore. Iíve NEVER needed a hardcore championship to showcase my thrust for violence. I donít need some leather strap reminding others Iím not a nostalgia act. I can get violent anytime I want. Once revered as The Last Real Villain who made his name by having violent massacres and murdering bodies all over the country. Your body has been mangled and scarred from every battle that you've been a part of since those youthful days using rich girlfriends and molding others from your hometown to do your bidding. Now here you are years later wanting to remove yourself from being called the Butcher. Now you spend your days tweeting about music and talking about buying fucking homes because your fucking ass is tired of sleeping in the streets. I donít like to give anyone props but Kimi was right when she said you werenít the same Dakota. Hell, Iíll take things further and say if the Dakota of old were able to exist in the same parallel universe as you. Heíd chop your head off himself for sharing the same name.

The Dakota Iíve heard about surviving getting lynched and being put on fire would never let two bitches get away without their ovaries hanging out of their bodies. Ever since I heard the name, Dakota Smith. Everyoneís been talking about how youíre the Boogeyman. One of the scariest and nastiest motherfuckers to walk the planet. Someone so evil that no one could touch him. I actually feel ashamed to share a common interest with you over our love for dead bodies. Youíre nothing but a homeless man who happens to be named the same as Dakota. A goddamn fake impersonator like the many filling New York City wanting handouts. This was a match I would have loved back in the day when Dakota Smith wasnít playing house and growing soft to take care of Peyton and Tara because the two little bitches are without a male figure around them now that JPD is gone. Fuck Tara Michaels and fuck that little bitch daughter of hers. You exchanged any last bit of the person you once were on diaper duty and a whore that likes to take photos of herself. The woman I sent home forever beating both their asses. I killed Tara Michaels from active duty in 4CW.

I wonít hesitate to do the same for you, motherfucker. Consider that my housewarming gift, Dakota. How about you let me know if you reach a hundred and fifty so I can watch your final moments, Iíll be sure to bake you a special dish for your last meal as youíre on death row. Maybe Iíll sprinkle some aconite. Worked for Caesar. While youíre choking on yourself trying to grasp at fresh air, Iíll be walking out of prison free.

Her words burned through the cameras audio. Not because they were poisonous to hear but everything that Alexis Mercer had said on camera sitting there was true. It has been a while since the world saw the man known as Dakota Smith. She looked over at the crew before turning her head back around again tilting her head. She pressed her finger down as hard as she could piercing the flesh on the sharp end of the pocket knife and watched as her own blood started to run down her finger.

ďHow have you been Viduus Mortas and Speaker? Itís been awhile since we last encountered each otherís presence in a match together like this one weíve got coming up at The Pit. Itís been a long few months since I heard the whispers of broken promises of saving someone like myself. Congratulations on returning back stronger than ever. Pinning an already dazed Anastasia Hayden after she had been taken care of by our champion hitting Valescence Victory for you, Viduus, to pick up the pieces for your team. A win is clearly a won in the eyes of everyone here. Thereís no disputing that you pinned the number one contender after being removed from the company since last October at Fright Night IV when you were spewing about your kingdom.

Talking about how where you went you heard people talk down to you, Viduus, saying youíre a failure and how you were everyoneís punchline of a painted black man. At the event though everything was down to you to take on of the Warzone of Horror. The one chance to prove everyone back then wrong having not only the opportunity to reclaim your championship but walk away with a guaranteed contract for a world title shot at Winter Wasteland. This was the biggest moment you had. It doesnít get much bigger than facing Bronx at the last December pay-per-view of the old year. Everything was stacked against you with well-established names also in there like your Johnny Evilís, your Carmella Wilderís, the Dakota Smithís and Genie Carlsonís. Names that knew what might not have ever been in this clusterfuck but understood what they got themselves into heading to the caged Hell.

It was an event that saw you scratching and crawling to make your words seem real. It was your chance to make your kingdom a reality when last the entire match. It saw you break every bone in your body. At one point, you powerbomb your partner next week through the top of the cage crashing down to be covered in barbed-wire beaten and bloody. Iím sure Dakota has forgiven you for that transaction, right? You guys are a powerful team this week. Really must have been good to finally take revenge on assholes that used to think of you as some kind of joke at your expense. Beating Anastasia Hayden and Dakota Smith probably made every day you were gone for four long months worth it to your cause. You beat two of the very best in 4CW History. You did what even I have yet to get done because Iím seen as a lower talent by management. They view me as a gatekeeper to the newcomers and trash wrestlers who will never amount to anything more than the enhanced talent of the week. While you were somewhere reflecting on your career wondering if youíll ever sit on your throne to the world I have been making moves slowly. Iíve been planting things inside peopleís heads.

I told you once, motherfucker. Iíve lived your world. Iíve seen through your false prophets. Nothing that you can say will ever work against me going into this tag team match. This isnít about kingdoms more than it is about salvaging a broken manís twisted belief of a better world under his command. A better life for everyone that serves you. Is that still apart of your goal? Or, have you switched gears much like your partner likes to switch focus on what championships he wants this week? You were once seen as the toughest Extreme Champion coming off that bloody war over Sativa to get defeated by someone like Carmella Wilder. Someone that didnít belong wearing the strap much less defends it. People can talk about me losing that fucking Fate Championship but at least the person I lost it to was someone capable of winning battles instead of being known backstage of getting dicked by Perry. I understand that this is supposedly your revenge upon the world that saw you as the ass of the locker room.

All this talk about being a savior to everyone and as soon as you lost that ultimate opportunity to make your words ring true to every fucking body backstage you bolted. You went home crying about how everything was too much. The pressure got too much for the great savior and now suddenly like nothing happened. Like your whole career is set to rewind. To tell you the truth, you were a joke and just because you were smart enough to blind tag Bronx before he put Anastasia down so you could pick up the pieces doesnít make everything suddenly change about you to me. Youíre still the dickhead I made sure wasnít walking out of the Toyota Center after landing a springboard 630 splash onto your broken body. Youíre still the asshole I pinned after our extreme rules match at episode sixty-seven. Thirty-three 4CW produced shows later. Iím nothing like you remember. Iím far worse.

Alexis knew how to harm Viduus Morta. He was another man that believed he could bend the world to how things appeared inside his own mind. Another religious zealot motherfucker like those in television broadcast trying to conform people into believing their way because God told them it was right. She knew heading into this tag team match Alexis needed an ally. Too bad for her that ally happened to be the person that she screwed over multiple times before. Touche, Alexis Mercer thought in her mind. Alexis puts down the wooden stake and sat up straight from her position swinging her leg around. Soon, she jumped down to the ground.

ďLook, my dudes. I admit Iím not the best partner the world has ever seen. I lied to partners. Straight up assaulted teammates. A lot of which Andre Holmes can testify to. What happened before isn't going to happen this time. At The Pit, there will be no trickery to give you bastards the easy win. There will be no payout for taking out my dipshit partner for the second time on the roll. Myself and Andre are coming to the arena to kick your ass. Weíre going to do what needs to be done and maybe afterward murder each other just like you two will.Ē

She says to cameras as she swayed her way toward them. Within seconds Alexis approached the crew and suddenly stabbed a large brown box that had been there long before Alexis Mercer showed up. She looks up at the 4CW.

ďAre we done?Ē

ďYes, maíam. Thatís everything we needed.Ē

ďGood now get the fuck out. Iíve got a match coming and I need my beauty sleep.Ē

Alexis walks back to those dead rats and picks one up. She thinks about the upcoming match and how this could be big for herself if she could take out the Butcher and Viduus Morta. Our scene fades off into darkness once more as Adrenaline was looming near awaiting the massacre that was about to unfold once all four entered the ring. Wallace must be smiling somewhere at what he has done.
« Last Edit: February 05, 2018, 03:08:08 AM by Alexis Mercer »