BURIED ALIVE MATCH - SUNDOWN VERSUS RAGNAROK

[thisisemerge]

DEADLINE ONE - 3250 ROLEPLAY 13TH SEPTEMBER 2019 2359 EST

DEADLINE TWO - 750 WORD SHOOT / SEGMENT 15TH SEPTEMBER 2019 2359 EST

[thisisemerge]

SLOVENIA

Dexter Schmidt didn’t have the first clue where he was. All he knew was that he had followed the instructions to the letter. He’d never been on the Dark web before, and had been surprised at the things you could actually buy on there. He knew that he’d see weapons for sale, but he wasn’t convinced he would find the kind of weapon that he required.

Even since he had been almost crippled at the hands of Sundown he had found himself with a new found purpose. Yes, he still loved to write his blogs, and gush over the stunning women of professional wrestling, but deep within there was only one thing that mattered. Dexter wanted to make Sundown pay, in the most brutal ways imaginable. But more than anything he needed Sundown to suffer… to suffer for his sins.

And that’s why Dexter was here, in a country he’d never known existed. He’d never even heard of Slovenia, never mind Ljubljana its capital city. But during a deep search on the Dark Web, this was where he found himself. Walking down an alleyway, a silver briefcase in his right hand and his cane helping him across the cobbled street, where he wasn’t too proud to admit he was petrified. He’d heard about these European cities, and some of the stories had filled him with dread. Finally, he arrives at his location, and a large red gate as promised. Above the gate is a camera…

“Please, look straight into the camera…”

Although the man speaks in English, it is obvious from his accent he isn’t. Thankfully, it is only a few moments till the gate opens, and Dexter walks inside to be greeted immediately.

“Mr Schmidt, I trust you had a comfortable journey?”

Dexter: Wasn’t the best, but I’ll live. Are you Aleksander?

The man laughs.

“My name is unimportant Mr Schmidt. Please, follow me.”

The man walks further down a passageway, and then turns a corner, the two of them walking through another door.

“Please, take a seat… I will only be a few moments.”

Dexter dusts off a chair, and does as he is told, taking a moment to look around his dank surroundings that were not doing anything for his anxiety. To say the room is ‘minimalistic’ would be an understatement, as other than the chair, a table is the only other item of furniture. The décor however is the least of his concerns, and he doesn’t have to wait long for the man to return.

“Please…”

He motions to the stairs beyond, and Dexter sighs. Since his surgery, stairs had been the hardest, the cane he was using useless. He climbs slowly up them the door shutting behind him. He stands on the landing, not sure where to go.

Dexter: Ok, so this is the part where I really regret this

“In here Mr Schmidt.”

Dexter turns towards the voice, and enters through a door, a man sat behind a desk in a room that doesn’t seem to fit the environment. It is fitted out comfortably, and looks like it has had a lot of money spent on it. Money from ill-gotten gains no doubt.

Dexter: Aleksander?

Aleksander: That is correct Mr Schmidt… please sit, we have a lot to discuss.

Dexter pulls out a chair and takes a seat, a little more comfortable in his surroundings now.

Aleksander: So, Mr Schmidt…

Dexter: Please, call me Dex

Aleksander: Very well Dex… how are you finding our wonderful country?

Dexter: Not really seen a lot of it to be honest with you. Came here straight from the airport.

Aleksander: Well can I suggest that you take some time before you go home. I’m sure you will find we are quite an extraordinary country, untainted by the commercialism that blights a lot of our neighbors.

Dexter: I’ll try to. I’m a very busy man.

Aleksander: As am I Dex, but sometimes you have to stop to enjoy the simple pleasures. There are plenty of those to be found in Ljubljana.

Dexter: We’ll see. All of this is actually unnerving me a little.

Aleksander: Of course, but then again Dex you seem like a man who likes to feel his adrenaline pumping. After all, anyone that ventures into the Dark Web is not an easily scared individual.

Dexter: It certainly opened my eyes.

Aleksander: There isn’t anything that cannot be bought if you delve deep enough. Of course, the deeper you go, the more risk is involved.

From behind him, Dexter feels the coldness of the tip of a blade pressed into his neck. He doesn’t flinch, but continues to look into the steely eyes of Aleksander. Aleksander smirks, as Dexter tries to keep his composure.

Dexter: Seems I may have got my wires crossed. I’ll go… apologies for wasting your time.

Aleksander scowls, looking more than a little confused.

Aleksander: You seem to misunderstand me Dex. The blade currently pressed into your throat is only to help you tell me the truth.

Dexter: The truth… what do you mean?

Aleksander: Why would a man like you, a man who writes a blog and treats women like nothing more than meat, need a hired assassin?

Again, although obviously Slovenian, Aleksander’s grasp of the English language is impeccable, and is almost without his accent unlike the guy earlier.

Dexter: I can assure you, there is no need for the knife. There’s no secret here.

Aleksander nods, and the blade is taken away, Dexter not turning though and keeping his eyes on Aleksander.

Aleksander: So, enlighten me Dex.

Dexter shifts in his chair, this was a story he’d never told. He’d kept his own council for a while now, preferring to focus on his recuperation.

Dexter: It’s pretty simple really. It’s all about revenge

Aleksander’s eyes widen. In his business he’d heard lots of stories, but Dexter didn’t seem to fit the profile. The Slovenian would have to admit to himself that he was intrigued to find out more.

Aleksander: Ah, a revenge story. Would you care to elaborate?

Dexter knew he didn’t have a choice, not really. If he didn’t tell his story, then it was highly unlikely he would get what he wanted. This wasn’t like ordering a Cheeseburger at McDonalds after all.

Dexter: I was General Manager of a company, a wrestling company in Canada

Aleksander: Wrestling?

Dexter: Yeah, doesn’t matter… basically, I was set up to fail, the controlling company wanted to put someone else in my place.

Aleksander: And you want them taken care of?

Dexter: No, I’m over that… but basically put someone double crossed me, put their hands on me and almost left me a cripple.

He taps the cane he had rested on Aleksander’s desk.

Dexter: He was ruthless, merciless, and not once has he shown any remorse.

Aleksander: I see… and this isn’t something you could take care of yourself?

Dexter: Aleksander, I’m not a fighter. I’ve never laid a punch on anyone in my life, never mind done the things that I want this asshole to go through. I need a ‘weapon’ to make this right. I need someone to give me my revenge. I want Sundown to suffer, just like I did all those months in that hospital bed, wondering if I would ever be able to walk again.

Aleksander: Sundown? An interesting name.

Aleksander ponders it for a while, before leaning forwards his hands clasped together.

Aleksander: So tell me, what are we talking here?

Dexter: What do you mean?

Aleksander: To what extent must you go till you claim the retribution you require? Death?

Dexter: NO, not death… Jesus Christ.

Aleksander: So what then?

Dexter: I want him to feel like I did, like his life is over. I want him to be broken, a mere shell of the man he is now. I want EVERYTHING taken away from him so that he has nothing.

Aleksander: Like, he may as well be dead?

Dexter: Exactly.

The Slovenian leans back in his chair, his head gently nodding. He understood revenge, it was how he had gotten into this business in the first place, though he had gone far further than Dexter ever would.

Aleksander: OK Dexter, I think I can help you.

Dexter sighs with relief. It would have been the worst thing going home empty handed, especially as he wouldn’t have known what to do next. There were of course many people who offered the same ‘services’ as Aleksander, but this had always felt like a one shot thing, and if this didn’t work, he wouldn’t have the bottle to try again.

Dexter: That’s great, thank you.

Aleksander: I trust you have brought the necessary payment?

Dexter: I have

Aleksander: Good, leave it on the desk as you leave… I shall be in touch

Dexter: Excuse me?

Aleksander: This isn’t a catalogue shop Dex, I don’t keep my assassins on site.

Dexter: So, you expect me to give you $200,000 and walk away?

Aleksander: It’s simply a case of trust Dex… and of course how much you want this revenge of yours. You seem like a good judge of character my friend. So, do you trust me?

His every thought was telling him he shouldn’t, but Aleksander was right, he was desperate for his revenge and it wasn’t like he could do it alone. He lifts up the briefcase, and slides it across the desk, Aleksander opening it.

Aleksander: OK Dex, I think that conducts our business for now. Enjoy your journey home and I will be in touch shortly.

Aleksander stands, Dex shaking his hand and leaving the room. He half expects the other guy to escort him, but he’s not around, and before long Dexter is back in the alleyway, his anxiety hitting crucial levels as he walks away from every cent he had.

CHICAGO

It had only been two days before Aleksander contacted him, telling Dexter that it was sorted, and to go to an address in Chicago where he would be met by one of his colleagues. Dexter pulls up outside the building, and walks up to the entrance, pushing the door which opens without effort. Stepping inside, his lungs immediately fill with the dank air, making him cough

Dexter: What is it with these guys and there rundown buildings?

“Dexter?”

Dexter spins around, coming face to face with a man with hardened features. A large, dark scar over his right eye which looked quite recent.

Dexter: Yeah, that’s me

“Cool.”

This guy wasn’t Slovenian, and his accent seemed British, similar in fact to Kelcey Wallace’s.

“I’m David… call me Dave, I’m sure you will.”

Dexter holds out his hand, Dave taking it.

Dexter: Hey

David holds up his hand

David: Dude, seriously chill. Sander told me you were a nervy guy, but the tough stuffs done you know? You went to Slovenia right?

Dexter: Yeah

David: Beautiful country, but the underground scene… it’s pretty brutal. Sander likes you though, and he’s glad to help.

Dexter: Easier to want to help when you’re getting paid two hundred dollars though right?

David: Trust me bro, if Sander didn’t like you, the money wouldn’t have mattered and you’d have probably disappeared by now. He’s pretty straight forwards like that.

Dexter: I see

David: Well, it’s not like you expected a saint when you are looking for an assassin right?

Dexter: Nah, I guess not

David: Anyway, talking of which… Tomasz?

From out of the shadows steps an absolute mountain of a man, over seven feet tall and almost as wide. His arms are almost as wide as Dexter’s body, and Dexter cannot help a smile from forming on his face.

David: Tomasz, this is Dexter, this is who you will be working with?

Tomasz holds out his hand which engulfs Dexter’s, and as they shake Dexter’s body almost rattles from the raw power

David: Tomasz is Polish, not that it matters because he is mute and has been for the past four years.

Dexter: Oh?

David: Purely by choice, prefers to let what he does do the talking.

Dexter: OK

David: So what do you think?

Dexter looks him up and down, walking around him as Tomasz stands motionless. He was bigger than even Sundown, and potentially even more powerful, and he had that exact same look in his eye that Sundown had when he dropped Dexter onto that steel barricade. Total lacking in remorse.

Dexter: He’s perfect. But Tomasz… I think we’ll change that.

David: Do what you will bud, you paid your money. Just don’t piss him off too much ok?

Dexter looks at him, not really listening to David anymore, and almost salivating at the visions going through his head. A downed Sundown, a bloodied Sundown. A Sundown that couldn’t get back up.

Dexter: Ragnarok…

The scene fades

ENDGAME

“Tell me EMERGE, when you look at me, what do you see?”

Dexter Schmidt appears, sat behind a desk and a computer screen

“Do you see the blogger who is always willing to give his opinion on wrestling matters? Or do you see a man with an eye for the ladies… some might say a pervert? Am I in your eyes the guys that took Money in the Bank to the UWA Tag team Titles? Or, am I the guy who ran EMERGE pretty well until the carpet was ‘unfairly’ pulled from underneath me?”

He pauses for a second, allowing us to contemplate the question.

“My guess folks, is that I’m not seen as any of those things, although they might be true. The blog, my opinions, my achievements… none of them really matter in the grand scheme of things. You want to know what I think? I reckon that you all know me as the guy who almost had his back broken by Sundown. I think you all see me as the guy who was stupid enough to get in Sundown’s face, even though the asshole had done me wrong. Of course, that’s true. I cannot deny either of these things, and yes they have masked everything else I have done in the business, and folks I could accept that, truly I could.”

He sneers towards the camera

“You live by the sword, you die by the sword. I’ve fucked over a lot of people over the course of time, so yeah, maybe I deserved all that I got. What I didn’t deserve however, what I shouldn’t be remember for. Is the guy who got booed when he returned? The guy who stood there, promising his revenge, next to the man who would get me that retribution, and got booed out the building whilst Sundown… fucking Sundown got cheered. I've always known that the wrestling fans were stupid, shit they needed my blog to give them a worthwhile opinion. But to cheer an asshole that darn near broke me in half… it was then that I realized that it doesn’t matter if it’s GCW. It doesn’t even matter if it’s SCW. And it certainly doesn’t matter if its EMERGE. This business, this industry that I once loved. It’s turned into a fucking joke. Where cunts like Sundown… who might I remind you was going to kill Grace Morningwood on live television, are revered like Gods.”

He shakes his head, in total disgust

“This was a business that I loved, that I lived from my teenage days. It was the greatest day of my life when I was no longer a ‘blogger’ and I became a part of this circus that we know as professional wrestling. I was living the dream and then you…”

He points towards the camera

“You killed that. And now, all I feel in my heart towards these companies that I once had my DVR set to capture every hour of action, is bitterness and hatred… for an industry that let me down.”

He takes a breath and puffs out his cheeks

“But, no matter… because as the saying goes, you have to make sure that you look after ‘number one’. I’m done worrying about this business, and I’m done pandering to the masses who relied on me to get their information and rumors. Now, I’m all about one thing and one thing alone. Making the big, roid enhanced asshole pay for making me feel like this. Because that’s what you are now Sundown, at least to me. You are a symbol for these people that fucked me over. And for what you did to me, and I don’t give a flying fuck you’ve got Cindy Todd by your side, you’re going to pay. Not with your career, not with your motor skills. No, you are going to pay with your reputation. As my ‘weapon’ strips you of this bullshit ‘infallibility you claim to have. Jesus Christ, Mordecai put you down, a jumped up jackass like him who was contained by Vanilla Skyy…”

Ragnarok steps from off screen and into shot, dwarfing Dexter, the camera barely able to include them both

“…Imagine what Ragnarok could do to you in Miami. Just look into his eyes, this isn’t a 95 pound weakling like Grace Morningwood. It’s not even a battle axe like Melissa Killgraves. This is your end of days Sundown, and because I’ll always tell you the truth, Cindy knows this too. You think anyone is buying this whole ‘this has been going on for months’ bullshit. Cindy, I respect you more than most, but please. King and Wilkes, they are only involved because you fear for Sundown, you know this isn’t the forgone conclusion Sundown’s matches normally are. My revenge, will be Sundown’s burial… and you Cindy Todd, regardless of my respect for you, and all that you have done, will be able to do nothing more than watch your devil sent straight back to hell.”

Dexter stops for just a moment, his heart beating fast. Inwardly, he was scared, scared that Ragnarok would fail and he would be left to deal with the consequences alone. But outwardly, he would never show that. This was his chance, the defining action for which he would always be remembered.

“In closing, I’ve waited for this moment for the longest time.”

Dexter nods his head, his shoulders rising and falling sharply.

“I’ve been impatient, I had to watch as that ‘man’ has continued to walk the Earth without a care in the world.”

He licks his bottom lip that had become dry

“I’ve seen people get away with the most heinous acts, and not been held accountable. Left to do what they wanted, when they pleased, and never punished for their actions.”

He lowers his head for a moment, inhaling deeply

“Well you know something EMERGE? If that’s the way it’s going to be…”

He lifts his head, his eyes meeting the camera.

“At Invasion… it’s MY turn. This time the sun goes down… for good.”

He looks up at Ragnarok, a smirk forming on his face as the scene slowly fades.

[Sundown]

Anything with the “REC” on it is Viewable to the Public.

The Views Expressed By Sundown & Tombstone Do Not Reflect Those of the Publisher. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

THE SUFFERING:
DEVIL WE KNOW

(Click Title)