April 01, 2020, 05:24:04 PM

Author Topic: Humble Kingdom  (Read 30 times)

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Offline Logan Traeger

Humble Kingdom
« on: February 06, 2020, 12:33:11 AM »
“Have you ever experienced your body lying on the floor, incapable of moving? Moreover, has it ever not been due to wrestling, but rather crippling mental hindrance?”

An orange hue illuminates the Paris catacombs, where we are met by a thick, circular column of skulls carefully constructed to hold the weight of the above ceiling, holding death in place like a guardian of the mortal world. Thousands upon thousands of skulls, emotionless and void of eyes, act as the most grotesque reminder of humanity’s capabilities. Panning around clockwise, Logan Traeger stands face to face with one of these skulls, his squared jaw tightened as his eyes weave between curiosity and deep insight.

“If the answer is no, then we have one of our biggest differences already. The end of last year and beginning of this one have not been kind to me professionally, that’s no secret. Something happened to me toward the end of last year… I got distant, I began to think in a different way, more negative. The one person I marketed and held up high most, I began to despise… myself. Then, just when I thought I had conquered that self doubt and loathing, I stepped into the ring with Dakota Smith and lost.”

Logan wipes his fingers across his mouth, shaking his head in disappointment, only to look up at the skull in front of him and laugh.

“Right? Dakota Smith, the human edge reel and someone who was all but extinct from the sport of professional wrestling. But, I keep telling myself that it was just one match, against an enigma, and that the next round will be different. Which brings me to you, Manny.”

Tilting his head to the side, Logan raises two fingers.

“This round cannot be a repeat of the last one inside of a 4CW ring. The dynamic with you has changed drastically, Manny, even you have to see that. A career underdog who is now the focus of success. The man nobody thought could dethrone Bronx, or Dakota, or amount to anything, has now seen more success inside of a 4CW ring than Bryan Laughlin or even the aforementioned former 4CW Champion and Hall of Famer that you were never supposed to defeat. How does that feel? Knowing all that pressure to prove paid off? That now, in the new year, you’re the one given the better betting odd to win over any opponent simply because you breed success in any company you enter?”

Logan circles the column, letting his fingers gently graze the skulls, alternating between the craniums and mandibles where present after such long exposure to the world.

“So many victories this could very well be your lair of trophies, couldn’t it? But no, you’ll never admit to that because nice, modest Manny is for the people. Where guys like Dakota revel in their conquests, you remain humble, and that’s why I just couldn’t understand my own place in this world. 4CW, the land of opportunity. I built momentum, I had people talking. I was set to come in and take this place by storm. Then what? Halted!”

Traeger sends a forceful hammer fist into a skull and crushes it, sending the remnants of a jaw hitting the concrete floor of the catacombs by his feet.

“Stagnation with no answer, but now I see things clearly. Through depression, I see that I am my own worst enemy. I have to get past myself to get where I want to be in this company. The duality kills me every two weeks. In Miami, I am seen as this top of the mountain figure, and here? I’m nothing.

Logan quickly looks away, gulping as if to swallow down a lot of pride to make such an honest observation.

“An endless loop of losses… Madison, Hayden, you, Smith, on and on and on and on. Do you know how that feels?! Do you know what it’s like to go home with your head hanging to your wife and daughter, forcing some semblance of a smile while inside your entire self image is dying painfully? No, you don’t. But, what you do know, is how it feels to be backed into a corner. So tell me, Manny, what am I capable of by being backed into a corner? How dangerous do I feel? How bad do I need to win?! The answer… it’s everything to me. Securing this victory is comparable to receiving another breath right before my last just so I can live a little longer. It’s me proving to myself that maybe this isn’t all in vain, and that I do have what it takes. It’s validating the encouragement from my wife who still somehow believes that I can one day win a 4CW Championship. It’s vindication… from being labeled as an outsider in over his head.”

“Just as much as Southside is my ring, 4CW is yours, and I need to elevate myself to conquer this domain. There are no backup plans or alternate ways to achieve this. The entire plan, the entire redemptive effort, begins with you and my hand being raised. We are once again clashing our techniques, devising game plans, seeing who the better man can be. For me, there are no repeats, no laying on my back and looking at the lights and wondering how I will act when I fly back home and see people look at me as a hero while I feel like an ordinary piece of shit.”

Leaning his shoulder onto the column, Logan comes face to face with a skull whose jaw is wide open, provoking an amused response.

“You can’t believe how much I dropped the ball either, huh? It’s like you know me, same wavelength, even if your brain is missing. Do you empathize? Can you imagine how it feels standing next to Manny and be looked at as lesser, despite the amount of heart shown. It feels like I’m on the verge of becoming Luke Jones, who by the way, is the whole noteworthy fucking person I’ve beaten in the last few months. I’ve tried to capitalize on the losses by learning and crafting new approaches, but nothing has stuck. It just seems to never work out. As soon as I get the motivation, feel confident, it all fights back”

He quickly taps his head with his index finger, staring into the camera with a look of frustration and defeat.

“The mind power begins to implode. And you, Manny? You can only be disappointed that you lost against the 4CW Champion, which is nothing to be ashamed of. At least there’s a hierarchy you can look at and find logic in. I can’t even see where I go wrong half the time, and it feels like I can never dedicate myself to understanding since I’m throwing my all into it. I’m cut out for this, I know I deserve to be at the top, and I know that I am better than this! And this has to be the point where it all gives. Manny, this is the crumbling of your humble kingdom, and I’m taking the first hit.

Walking to the wall, Logan pulls out a hammer, taking hard and deliberate swings to crack the skulls the hammer connects with. And just as we hear a loud crack, the orange hue goes black, forcing the feed to cut.