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Author Topic: Unexpected Wake Up Call  (Read 344 times)

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Offline Cyrus Riddle

Unexpected Wake Up Call
« on: June 27, 2018, 09:35:37 AM »
4 Seasons Hotel
Las Vegas, NV
25 June 2018
3:30 PM

Exhaustion had become a daily, consuming feeling for Cyrus Riddle as of late. The physical and mental drains from travel and personal turmoil he had placed himself in began to weigh heavily, more than previous dealings.

Following the events of his Ante Up promo, he hurriedly made his way home to gather his bags before boarding an early morning flight to Las Vegas. The added pressure of two championship opportunities and a chance to rebound from recent bad luck in 4CW was enough to make any high level performer over think and ask the dreaded “what if?”

However little time there was for this ponderance, the Englishman managed to devote some of his toward the detrimental cause, and his flight was of no assistance as he found himself seated by a forty year old virgin with a plethora of wrestling knowledge and slew of questions regarding the Extreme Roulette, Cyrus’ plans, the Gold Rush Championship match in Vengeance, and a line stepping inquisition regarding Elena DeDraca, which Cy promptly squashed for the sake of their own privacy.

Given the hectic nature of the last twenty four hours, landing at McCarran and quickly escaping into a cab destined for the Four Seasons would be bliss. But, going unnoticed was a long standing, unavoidable failure due to his distinct look. Fans scoured the popular hotels, already informed of where talent would be staying, awaiting their turn for photos and autographs, to which Riddle obliged.

The Four Seasons was unique, as it was a non-gaming establishment, relying on its adjacent location to Mandalay Bay for tourists to fulfill their gambling desires. It was meant for comfort, and that's what Cy sought after. But of course, that quest would be put on hold for uninvited company.

He could smell the cigar burning upon entering his room, provoking a vigilance which saw him place his bag on the floor and prepare for anything, although a cigar burning was a sure sign of someone's leisure sitting, not imminent threat.

“Come on, ya paranoid git, have a drink with me.”

There was no mistaking the deep, raspy voice which spoke out to him. Riddle paused and shook his head, using his middle finger and thumb to rub each eye respectively before making his way to the mini-bar in his room, mere feet from the windows overlooking the city. Before he could utter a word, his new company stood and clapped.

“Cyrus fuckin’ Riddle, ladies and gents. The horror show himself, the Impaler… the brooding man. Shall I go on?

A fan for his own comedic flare and mocking of Cyrus, the old man laughed and offered Cy a seat at his own bar.

“Yeah, bloody thanks.”

Already moderately agitated, Cyrus approached the bar and swished the aged scotch around in its glass before taking a sip.

“Why the visit, Wulfric? It's been two and a half years now.

The old man wasted no time finishing his first class before pouring and partaking in another, his serious expression overtaking.

“I came here to talk, Cy. And by talk, I mean you are going to sit down and listen to what I say without uttering a word, got that? Because this is important.”

A usually defiant Cyrus relaxed himself to his glass, nodding for Wulfric to begin. This act in itself was a struggle, as the majority of Riddle’s adulthood hatred and anger stemmed from Wulfric’s methods of child raising. It's not everyday a parent or legal guardian exposed violence to their child, especially when running a criminal enterprise. As much as Cy attempted to suppress it, the everlasting image of a bullet entering another human being with his finger on the trigger, only to be assisted by Wulfric himself in Cy’s moment of hesitation, was a pivotal turning point in a teenage Riddle’s psyche.

“I know I've been shit, Cy. I looked after you, yeah? But I didn't teach you well enough apparently.”

Wulfric glanced over a mildly confused Cyrus, who had his attention focused.

“I honestly can't say I know who I am looking at anymore. I thought I had erased the tosh thoughts in your head. That whole “be what society indoctrinates” philosophy dads raise their little chaps with now, that's foolish thought. You were always meant to control your environment, be the gamemaster as it were.”

A few seconds pause for drink indulgence was taken.

“But look at you… you have the temerity to call that Laughlin bloke a sideshow, a circus act, on social media, but failed to stand in front of a mirror in the process.”

Riddle shook his head, but as he was about to speak Wulfric held his hand up.

“No, no, this is a talk two years too late. You are the circus, Cy. You let the world get ahold of you, and you bent to its will like a whore. Deep down inside, you find it hard to argue against anyone opposing your way of life now, because you know in your heart that you've fucked it all away.”

“Where's that Hall of Fame mentality? Where's the champion we all knew? The man who sold out the O2 arena in London against Eddie North, he's vanished didn't he? Everyone flocked to see the gobby English asshole who said what he thought, educated the world, and backed it up in a ring.”

Wulfric looked away and began to laugh, turning to Cyrus and tapping his temple with his index finger.

“What went wrong? Slicing throats on Showtime, playing Riddle Roulette… torture, killing, spooky things… leave it to Hollywood, mate, you're better than that. You went from Cyrus Riddle, the Archetype, the leader of the Age of Grandeur, to Dakota Smith 2.0, and you aren't even committed to it. Dakota is and was a different animal than you. He embodies something else, something unexplained, and that's who he is. He is authentic. You showed your cards for years before being what you are now, so people know your potential.”

Riddle looked away, watching the scotch in his glass move with the subtle turns he made with his fingertips on the outside.

“You know I'm telling the truth now, it's working in your head. You wonder where it all went to the dogs, and then you realize it's when you stopped being who you are. We are always imperfect people in an imperfect world, but you stopped controlling yours. I expected better than that. You deserve better, Perry Wallace deserves better, Isabella deserves better… Elena deserved better. And everyone mentioned, you let down.”

“Nobody invests in you anymore. If you feel alone, it's your own doing. Snatch is everywhere, son, but don't throw away your career and life for it, no matter how fit the bird.”

Cyrus finished off his glass rather quickly, sliding it over to his godfather for a refill.

“Not sure what you expect me to say… you're right. I tried to fix what wasn't broken, and I went off the deep end. I let this… side… manifest itself into something that destroyed myself and everyone around me, instead of an opponent.”

“Exactly, man. And instead of focusing on your craft, you tried to create mini-horror movies. People become desensitized to that, you know. It's no longer a threat to them. I remember when people used to fear the name Cyrus Riddle and dread the thought of stepping into a ring with you because of how you conducted yourself in it. Methodical, psychological, technical… bloody hell, I miss bragging about that bloke to everyone I see.”

Cy furrowed his brow.

“He's not gone.”

“Then prove it. Put down the knives, the guns, the bullshit, and be the cerebral wrestler whose training I paid for to get him minted. Take your control back, wear your suits, represent your country… and for fuck sake, be a man and face Elena, face your daughter, earn your grace back. Hurt people to become a world champion again, become 4CW Champion like you should have an eternity ago.”

“You purposely lost yourself to explore this dark side, but the time is expired, Cy. Come back home, remember your roots, show the world who you truly are again. You have two changes this week, I trust you'll do the right thing.”

Wulfric arose from his chair and patted Cy on the shoulder, glass in his other hand. With Riddle looking up at him, he have him a hug.

“I have to make another stop tomorrow, and I'm going to hit the casino. I'll be watching you this week, don't let us all down. You spent a career defining everything you earned up until two years ago or so, and now, you have to redefine it all. Cheers, son.”


Their glasses clanged slightly before Wulfric walked away, leaving Cy to his thoughts and words to be guided by. The old man wasn't wrong, and this was just the wake up call that Cyrus needed.