Casterillo vs. Damian Angel

[Konrad Raab]

Match Determine Balance of Power

3 RP Limit for singles

Deadline: 11:59 pm ET Saturday, January 19, 2019

[Corner G]

“What do we have to gain? A struggle for power…

Power…

POWER between sisters. Sisters before Misters. Misters cause headaches. Headaches cause MADNESS. Madness causes… chaos!

Casterillo… Larry wishes he could cause chaos. Larry wishes he was more than he is. Larry wishes for Moe and for Curly… for Shemp in the later seasons. Larry wishes most for relevance.

But Larry doesn’t want the world to remember that Larry lost. Larry had this fight before and LARRY LOST! LARRY LOST! LARRY’S LOSS LIVES ON THE LIPS OF LEGIONS! Larry lost because Larry thinks!

Wait, back up.

Larry thinks Larry lost because of me. Moi. Yo. Mig. Mir. Ako. Mnie. Larry didn’t lose because of me. Larry lost… LARRY LOST! Larry lost because Larry got greedy! Larry lost because Larry WANTED to much. Larry WANTED to make a name off of the Devil Himself. Larry LOST because Larry WANTED to use the Devil as a key to his own future! Larry LOST because Larry wanted everyone to see what he could do to the Devil and, when I took a closer look, Larry took his eyes off the prize!

And Larry started to chase me. Around and around and around. And then Larry ran into the Devil again, and this time he was night-night! And Larry LOST!

But don’t listen to what Larry says about it. Because not only did Larry LOST… LARRY LIED! Larry is a LIAR and a SINNER and a THIEF! Larry LIED about the result, telling people he WON. His bio claims that he WON but our eyes did not LIE! Larry LIED! LYING is a SIN! Larry the Liar and Sinner! And a THIEF! He attempted to STEAL the win after it had already been declared! But we do not let him, do we?

No… Larry the Liar needs to be REMINDED that he LOST! He needs to LIVE with the knowledge of his FAILURE! He needs to LIVE knowing that in all his days, he will never… NNNNNNNNNEVVVVVVVVERRRRRRRR… have the POWER or the INFLUENCE that the Devil Himself has! He is a cog… spinning and turning in a machine that is bigger than he is.

Larry won't matter in the end. Larry will LOSE again and be sent spiraling down and down and DOWN. Because that is what Larry does! LARRY LOSES. Heheheheee…"
- Kali

---------------------------

Voice: "Mr. Angel, do you know why you are here?"

In truth, Damian Angel had no idea. From what he was told, he had been incarcerated in the Hell, Michigan Psychiatric Hospital since his wife, Katherine Blackmore, was viciously murdered at the hands of a hooligan in London, England, over a decade ago. But that didn't feel right to him. Something had changed... and though he did not believe in the perils of time travel, nor the practical use of it, someone was lying to him. He looks up at the lights, not turning his head to meet the voice of the therapist who had been brought in to treat him.

Damian: "I assumed that your President had finally grown tired of seeing others command the attention he desires."

Therapist: "Mr. Angel..."

Damian: "I mean, shit... they call me a cultist? I am a leader. I am a community organizer, though perhaps that in and of itself is part of the problem. These political types don't much care for community organizers after the last one."

Therapist: "Mr. Angel, are you making a mockery of me again?"

He was. He knew he was. But he didn't know why, if this was a residual of the sudden exposure in this environment or what.

Damian: “How did I get here?”

Therapist: “Mr. Angel, when your wife was murdered…”

Damian stops, sitting up.

Damian: “Katherine?”

Therapist: “Yes… Katherine was murdered in London, England, taking a knife that had been bound for your own chest.”

Damian sighs, almost reliving the grief of that night for the first time in 11 years. At the time, Damian was SCW World Champion, and had just defeated Shorty Jr. to retain that title, when he was accosted by fans in the parking lot. It was a typical occurrence for the man known as The Devil Himself, the former Hellbound Messiah, and he thought nothing of jawing back at his antagonists. They were likely drunk on the piss-warm beers served within the arena and looking to blow off some steam. What Damian didn’t expect was, on that night, to have one of the rowdy fans pull a knife and lunge at him. But it wasn’t meant to be his night, and Katherine, his beloved, took the blow that had been intended for him. Damian didn’t get a chance to incapacitate the bloke as security was quick onto the scene once they realized what had happened. Six burly guards had tackled the attacker to the ground and, Damian understood, concussed the bastard. He was lucky at the time, because if it wasn’t the six guards subduing him and injuring him, Damian would have outright slaughtered the man right there.

Therapist: “After Katherine’s death, you came to us seeking peace. From what your file says, you told us at the time that you blame yourself, and we could understand why. The knife was meant for you, after all…”

Damian: “And Siona?”

Therapist: “Sonia… your daughter… she was put through the foster system and ultimately ended up with a close friend of Katherine’s… a Miss Kennedy Street.”

Now there was a name that Damian had found familiar. Kennedy and Damian had a contentious relationship… no. That wasn’t true, not in Damian’s mind at least. He had a contentious relationship with Kennedy. In his mind, she was everything he had and lost… everything that was ripped away. Hearing from the Therapist that Kennedy had become guardian of his daughter was… conflicting to him to say the least. But if he had really been in this hospital for 11 years, was he really remembering things that happened? Did he imagine it all? Damian gripped at his head, looking to claw the memories right from his brain.

Therapist: “Mr. Angel… everything that has happened in the last 11 years, since you turned yourself over to us, are things we have allowed to happen. You were an unfit father for that little girl, so we took her away. You had a lot of pent-up aggression, so we allowed you an avenue to dispense of it in a healthy manner, and even then your antics were anything but “healthy”. You set men on fire. You set yourself on fire to prove a point to a man who was simply seeking to continue his career. You wrestled a puppet and outright injured Sesame Street characters. We attempted to parse out your illness, but you always found ways to defy our treatments.”

Damian’s mind wandered through the Therapists words… setting himself on fire? That was something that made sense within the confines of his professional wrestling career. He was never one to show fear. Setting others on fire simply went with the territory. But wrestling a puppet? Sure, that might have been something SCW found amusing at the time. Causing mayhem and destruction on Sesame Street? That is something that Damian also found himself able to rationalize, as placing him in an environment where he would be ill-suited would be a recipe for disaster.

Damian: “I remember that…”

Now was the time for the Therapist’s eyes to open a bit. Damian wasn’t supposed to remember, not as tangible, fathomable memories.

Damian: “I remember causing decimation, destruction, chaos on that show. Injuring their prized red monster.”

Therapist: “Yes, well the treatment had interesting side effects.”

The Therapist sighed in relief, having been able to potentially dismiss Damian’s memories as part of the treatment. But her eyes widened again as Damian shook his head… he was remembering different.

Damian: “I remember being a leader… having followers. My own society. I remember having the world at my fingertips and being able to command the loyalty of anyone I saw. I had my own forces of Armageddon… no… of Har Megiddo…”

Therapist: “Uhhh… yes. Other patients we are attempting the same treatment with.”

Damian: “No. Followers of mine… who would go to the ends of the earth at the snap of my fingers. This is not… this does not feel right.”

Damian sits up, looking at the Therapist, who’s eyes widen.

Damian: “You…”

He flies off of the therapy couch, standing in front of the Therapist.

Damian: “Where have you taken me? WHERE THE FUCK AM I!?”

Without warning, two men larger than Damian burst through the room, one of them jamming a long, pointed needle into the side of his neck. Damian fights against the pain of it, reaching to the side of the neck and pulling it out. He turns to face the men who burst in, but doesn’t get a good look at their faces as his vision blurs. He takes a swing at one, but is caught on the way down. Damian blacks out…

…

Several hours later, the scene returns inside the therapy room. Damian’s eyes reopen and he looks around, trying to bring his eyes into focus. Looking down, he notices his hands bound to the sides of the sofa.

Damian: “What is…?”

Therapist: “You gave us quite a scare earlier, Mr. Angel. Clearly our sessions haven’t been having the desired effect anymore. Now… do you know why you are here?”

The scene fades...

---------------------------

“Becoming a pawn in someone else’s power game? Now that is a new one. Apparently there are those who believe that the Devil can be restrained… can be focused on a singular goal for someone else’s benefit. They wish to harness what they know to be a sure thing and see me ensure that Sasha D.’s side of the power struggle emerges victorious.

As I said… this is a new one.

But what is not new for me is the conflict with Casterillo. See, I went into battle with Casterillo one month ago. I defeated Casterillo one month ago. The record books will confirm this, although Casterillo would deny it himself. And that is really what this is all about, is it not? Had Casterillo taken defeat like a man, had he accepted the hand that fate had dealt him on December 19, well, he might not be staring catastrophe in the face today.

All he had to do was accept defeat when it was dealt, regroup and I might have respected him. Casterillo is certainly not an unworthy foe, albeit a crass, petty one. Instead of being a man and admitting defeat, he still believes that he won. Such a pathetic cretin. And now, because of his hubris, because of his miserable ego, he is being cast as a pawn for Katya D..

How similar we are set to be, Lawrence. But that is where our similarities end. I am the Devil Himself. I have travelled through SCW, brought it’s most powerful performers to their knees. I have a reputation. You… however… you are just… disposable. Expendable. I will always come back again, intent on bringing chaos. No man or woman alive can stop me! But you… if you go, that is it. There will be no hushed comments in the legions following this company wondering if they have seen the last of you. There will be no fear of your return present in the hearts and minds of fools. If you go, you will be forgotten to time.

That is where you and I differ, Lawrence, and that is why you need this match with me. After you previous failed attempt at besting me, you need the world to consider you a threat. You need to completely and utterly decimate me if you want to have a prayer of even glancing at the legacy of broken bones, bloodied bodies, and charred limbs that I leave behind, and Lawrence? You are not good enough. Your previous diatribes against me… your efforts to sound imposing and threatening… they make me laugh. For one wishing to inspire fear, you have already failed miserably. For someone wishing to intimidate others? You are but a child playing a game that you are unfamiliar with, that you are incapable of winning. The very virtue of selecting you to represent her against me should, in and of itself, prove Katya incapable of sound, responsible leadership.

But no matter. It is not for Sasha that I will defeat you. It is not for my minions that I will destroy you… humiliate you… leave you completely and absolutely humbled at my feet. Oh no. I shall do that simply because I am Damian Angel and that is what I do. I will decimate you and break you more than you had ever dreamt possible because I am the Devil Himself and you cannot stop me! And when it is all said and done and you beg me for mercy… I shall look into your eyes, stare into the depths of your soul… and tell you…

No.”
- Damian Angel

[Jay Gold]

He is pacing in the room, the sun having gone down quite some time ago.  In the background the shower head can be heard turning off.  This does not capture his attention in the slightest, unlike what it would do to the normal male, being that in the shower there is a naked young woman who is just finishing cleansing herself.

Cleansing.  That is clearly what is on his mind, as he mumbles, just audibly enough to be heard.

As much as I would like to bring a much-needed cleansing here to where we are, I know I simply cannot.  Not a single one of them deserves the rain to wash their sins away, or the snow to make them feel like they are beginning anew.  They are all wrapped up out here.  All of the famous stars with bloated egos.  Damian, he fits right in.  And with his minions he fits right in.  They have all showed they are weak, yet they all believe me to be weak, just to make themselves feel better.  Especially her...

A few seconds pass and the door to the bathroom opens.  Shadron now stands there behind him, clothed in only a pure white towel, her purple hair still dripping wet, with many strands of it in her face.  Casterillo can see her via the mirror that is in the corner of his eye.

Do one thing for me.

What?

Do not ever be like Kali ever again.  I mean it.  EVER!

Shadron does not look the least bit scared.  In fact she steps around to face him before responding to his request.

Don't worry.  I won't.

Both of them look to be blankly staring at one another, but are undoubtedly reading one another's eyes.  A few tense moments pass before his reply.

I believe you.  I will leave you alone to dress.

Yet you're still scared.  This isn't me being a little girl.  You want to begin cleansing those that are desperately crying out for a new start?  Maybe you should start with yourself.  Look, I have sympathy for you because of what you have dealt with in the past from your mother and even moreso your father, but you need to move on from them, being they have moved on from you.  And after seeing what went down on Breakdown a few nights ago?  I KNOW for a fact that is not the you that you want to be.  First taking out your anger on Kali, and then basically teaming up with all of Katya's allies?  Standing here right now, in front of you, basically in my most vulnerable state Lawrence, I'm NOT happy with THAT you.  I know that YOU aren't happy with THAT you.

He half turns around but snaps back and returns fire, a fire that has companion has just placed there.

THAT me?  This time you have NO idea what you are talking about!  I was not out there to please Katya.  I was out there on my own volition, with my own business to take care of. The same can be said for this Sunday night when I take on Damian Angel again.  Hopefully THIS time the little girl and his two other minions steer clear and allow me to deal Damian the punishment that he truly deserves.

Mhm.  And the attack on Kali?

Cleansing.

For her?  Or for YOU?

Her green eyes pierce him this time.  Shadron clearly thinks she has him, but...

For both her AND me!  Everything I do has a reason Shadron.  There is no wasted movement.  I thought you already understood that.  With Kali it is ridiculously easy.  She needed and sadly still does need to look herself in a mirror and realize that she needs to change and grow up, just like you have.

As for me, that moment awakened me.  You have always told me there were so many more powers I had that I had not yet unlocked, but this past Wednesday night, the moment that I heard that chair smack against Kali, it was an eye-opener.  I became drunk with a new power that I have never felt within me before.  It is a power that can change the world.

You only hit her with a chair.  What could you have possibly learned from that?  What has you salivating?

The power to change the course of someone else's life.

Shadron thinks about this for a moment.  Then it dawns on her.

Oh, but you have known this power for quite some time now Lawrence.  When you injured my left arm.  You changed me.  You got me to wake up.  I am utterly shocked that you are just realizing this now.  But it's no matter.  I guess that just means you are opening up yourself to me more.  This is a good thing.

A good thing for me, and more importantly a bad thing for those who want to fight the fact that they need to change.  This Sunday night is Damian's turn, and Kali's if she chooses to stupidly interject herself into a dealing that has nothing to do with her again.  Damian Angel should be a big boy.  He should be able to handle himself.  I can see it though.  He is NOT the Damian Angel that everyone has been crowing so loudly about.  It is really hard to believe that he was once this company's World Champion.  As far as I am concerned, he is a rookie.  That angers him.  His current "place" on the roster angers him.  Meanwhile as far as I go, people out there no doubt see me as the rookie in this scenario, but they can feel free to believe that.  They can feel free to have the wool pulled over their eyes.  They can feel free to be naive.

That is something I am not.

Not anymore.  But pushing that aside, I just want you to know that whatever I do moving forward is what I want to do.  I do not trust the boss or either of his daughters, nor do I care about them.  If any of them cross me, and I have already made the promise, I will do until them something far worse than just their dreaded piledriver.  They will instead be gasping for air, until they are down to their last breath, choking, BEGGING me to stop!  And I will show no mercy if I am wronged.  This Sunday night for all their sakes better damn well be about making things right!

Shadron makes sure to speak as softly as she knows how to, sensing Casterillo's frustrations from last month.

Hey.  I hope it will be too.  Now um, why don't you go wash up?  I'm done using it.

Casterillo emptily nods before turning to the bathroom door.  He also mumbles.

You better have saved me the hot water.

I did.

Once he enters the bathroom fully and closes the door, Shadron then drops the towel on the floor, but does not rush to get dressed, figuring she will have enough time to do so before he reemerges, cleansed himself.  She instead gets out her cell phone and makes a call, but when the caller on the end answers, speaks quietly as possible, almost like a mouse.

Hey Miranda.  I'm sorry that I haven't called in a while.

It's fine.  How are you?  And more importantly, how's my cousin?

We're both fine.  Look I have to be quiet as I don't want him to hear me talking to you.

Fair.

I wanted to call you to let you know that I finally broke through to him.  He can't deny me now, and I don't want to deny him.

I'm happy for you both.  Sooo, what's happened?  Please give me the juicy details.  I knew you two were meant for one another.

It's not like that Miranda.  Not at all.

Oh?  Then what IS it all about?

We... understand one another.  I've grown Miranda.  In the beginning, well, I can see now that I did want just that, to be with a man, being I had never felt that feeling before, despite having learned the power of love.  But I've learned that there's more to love than just being with a member of the opposite sex.

Shadron pauses and the pause is ended by Miranda.

That's good.  Good to hear that this is a fresh experience for the both of you.

Yeah.  He's in the shower right now and I just came out of it.  I better get dressed before he's done.  I just wanted to call you before it got too late tonight.

Shower.  Nice.  I still can't believe th-

I'm happy Miranda, truly for the first time in my life.  I know I've said I love him many times in the past, but it's only now that I realize why he wasn't loving me back.  He still hasn't said it to me in return, but I'm not going to push him.  He'll say it and show it when he's ready.  So worth waiting for.

Alright then.

I have to go.  Keep in touch?

Definitely.  Bye Shadron.

Bye.

Shadron ends the call on her side and places her cell phone on the table beside the one twin bed that is in the room.  She looks over to where the resting chair in the room is already pulled out into a bed, which is where Casterillo has taken his slumber the past couple of nights.  She sighs before turning and getting dressed for bed.  No sooner has she finished the shower head turns off.  It takes some time before Casterillo comes back into the main portion of the hotel room.  Unlike Shadron he comes out completely dried and completely redressed.  He grabs for one of the hotel room key cards, which prompts his companion.

Where are you going?

I do not need to answer that.  I think you already know.  But if you do not, I am just going out for a bit.  Go to sleep.  I will be fine.

With that he heads out the door, Shadron watching him as he goes.  No sooner is he gone, she sighs again before speaking out loud to herself.

As long as you let me see you.


**********


I honestly thought she would never turn herself around and that she would never grow up.  However she has proven me wrong, unlike all the others.  My opponent for Making Things Right gets to take the back seat for the moment.  It is something he is familiar with anyways, as he has been taking a back seat for years now.  There are other pressing matters to address before I address him for what WILL be the final time, as long as it is just me and him this time around.  Though then again if it is not, it will DEFINITELY be the final time... for good.

As I walk here in the streets of Los Angeles, I can just smell that dirty air.  This place is so unclean.  It is a place that a phrase like "Making Things Right" is desperately needed, and desperately needs to come to fruition.  However it cannot, and it is not JUST because of Damian Angel and Kali.  No, the last name that currently leads Supreme Championship Wrestling is just as equally to blame, if not moreso.  I must speak the truth.  Even though the truth hurts.

Casterillo looks upward to the sky and can see some of the stars poking out of the clouds that have slowly been on the increase throughout this past day in Los Angeles.  He keeps his dark eyes up there.

It does not take a nuclear scientist to see what is going wrong here.  Our owner is actually letting his own daughters go at it to see who could possibly be running things here in Supreme Championship Wrestling in the future.  From my position I can see we are doomed for failure... with BOTH of them.  They are both spoiled rotten, and it is clear to see why.  That would be you Mr. D.  You have chosen to give them the world, and they have both regurgitated it right back in your face.  Instead of working together to make Supreme Championship Wrestling the best it can be, they are both going around choosing favorites.

Yes, I know Katya chose me.  However I am not in this to get any favors from her.  I am involved because I want to right a wrong.  She is NOT going to benefit from my actions, nor is Sasha, and nor are YOU.  I do NOT work well with others.  The sooner everyone realizes that the better their futures will be.  Hell, the sooner this little sister war is over, the better everything will be.  Because to put it bluntly and honestly, I HATE LITTLE GIRLS!  They all always want something.  Hell, everything!  I thought when I came here to SCW that I had already dealt with my quota of little girls in my lifetime, but I have been proven wrong.  Maybe, just maybe, you need to find your backbone and re-take command of YOUR SCW, before things get worse.  That is me helping you help the future.  Otherwise whatever daughter you choose will probably just run SCW into the ground.  It will not hurt me any as I will just go after whomever I want to go after, until my message is fully delivered.

Who knows.  I might even go after Katya next if Damian Angel pulls anything stupid out of his hat this Sunday night.  She promised me that she would make things right with making this match.  She better hold up her end of the bargain.  Otherwise she will not be around to celebrate ANY points that she gets for "her side".  If that was not clear, I will say it this way.  I am NOT and never will be a pawn, to anybody!

Casterillo simply just shakes his head, dropping his head down from looking at the sky now.  Now he only looks forward as he moves.

As for the simple man that lies before me as this weekend ends, that should be his one and only comfort, knowing that I am not looking to end him for Katya's benefit.  I am looking to end him so he receives his wake-up call.

Damian, it is very clear that you have no clue.  You still believe that our last encounter you truly won, when you know full and well that the match should have been stopped as soon as your little girlfriend entered the ring.  The wrestling ring is not a place for a creature like her.  She cannot handle it, and thus, I had to make my mark on her this past Wednesday night.  I am actually sad to hear that the message was not loud and clear to her.  Next time she crosses me she will not get up.  Next time around it will be her own funeral.  Though then again, your funeral has already happened Damian.

I will explain.  You believe that you know me so well that you feel you have the right to just say my first name freely.  But you do not.  However I know you.  I know that you used to be a threat in the eyes of everyone else.  I know that you used to take everybody by surprise.  I know about how you somehow snuck into an Elimination Chamber many years back now with white paint on your face, looking like you were devoid of life.  That sight however does not frighten someone like me Damian.  I am more than just a someone.  I am a powerful being, and just because you pinned me for three seconds when the referee could not control your girlfriend does not give you the right to speak down to me as if you were On High.  In fact it makes you look weak.  That is nothing new though, given your past many years now Damian.  You could change it, but even I can tell that you do not want to.  Your problem is that you are now comfortable with those around you.  You are comfortable with being in a clique.  And while you have stated that you are not in it this weekend for Sasha, I already know that you want to call in your hounds to take me down.

Bluntly and truthfully told Damian, you cannot do anything yourself nowadays!  Meanwhile I have been doing everything by myself, my entire life!  That will not ring any more true this Sunday too.  I come alone, and I am not coming to wrestle.  I am not coming to deal with brats.  I am coming to Make Things Right to end this between the two of us in the only manner that is right.  I am doing you a favor Damian... a damn favor!  This Damian you have become... will die.  I will be your "Death Himself".  It will be up to me if I allow you to resurrect.  I will need to see that look in your eyes that you want to become the Damian Angel of old, the Damian Angel that actually means something.  Otherwise I cannot help you, especially if you choose to continue to be this little girl that you have become.  Teenage girls form cliques, not grown men.  If you continue to go this route, and just laugh at me for the reasons that you have stated, it just goes to show that you are truly slated to die a slow, painful death.

He slowly squints his eyes and closes them, stopping his legs from churning as he does so.

And I for one will be content in watching you die.

Casterillo's dark eyes flash back open before he resumes walking through the night, back to where he started.  He looks around for a few moments before abandoning the outdoors for the rest of this night, the last night before Making Things Right.