Rotting in Vain

By: Brandon Moore

Date: 9th Jul 2021

You turned my world inside out

Now I know what life is all about

And it’s you..

That I can’t live without.

So I’ll try to just get by..

For now.

 

Was it a dream, or a memory?

 

Hi kids!

 

We have gathered here today to witness a funeral.

 

Awwwwwwww!

 

Now, now, dry those eyes little ones, for the bad man just had to die. Everybody has to die.

 

Laughter.

 

Standing ovation.

 

Even every last single one of you!

 

Hooray!

 

I am so fucked..

 

Did you hear? I am still the OP.. I mean the FIGHT! XKore Champion! Is it even still called XKore?

 

WHO THE FUCK KNOWS!?

 

Should have accepted my offer little one.

 

Moving on.

 

Ah, surprise, uncertainty. The unknown, it calls to me like a hellfire. Burning out my veins like some dirty dope. Like the shit Stratford must be shooting, having the nerve to make believe that he was somehow using me. As if he were better than me. All seeing. All knowing.

 

Yawn.

 

Sit down clown. Your time is up.

 

I’ll be seeing you Strat.

 

Shall we talk about a real long game? The ultimate obsession, reclaiming my spot atop the pyramid of my profession. It’s just a bite of evolution, and my pocket book wasn’t stressing. You can take all of my possessions, every single last piece of jewelry, clothing, and other useless bullshit that fills up my soon to be ex wife’s living room. All of the money in the world, you can have that shit too. I don’t need it.

 

No, you see. I am a man of finer tastes. Long gone are the days I scratched and clawed for that big, glorious mansion up the hill. The fast cars with the even faster women. The notoriety of being considered one of the absolute mostest most best bestest at your given field. You see, I have been swallowed alive by my front I left on store display for you all to believe in. There he go, that dumb ole junkie. He has already told us that before.If only he could put down the needle long enough to pull his head out of his ass, he could be somebody!

 

Eye roll.

 

I’ll never be anybody but me, and I have begun to acclimate myself quite nicely to the notion. King Moore. Big Dog Daddy Moore. GOD. All fitting names for such a divine specimen, don’t you think? Why.. I would slaughter thirty hundred dirty whores and go digging for one more score. Perhaps a virgin? Dane Preston ain’t fooling nobody, we all know Allie is bought and paid for.

 

Wink.

 

My tally is a waste, I had stopped keeping track around year 2ish. Or something. Fuck, I dunno. I am a bad narrator, why the fuck are you even here, listening to me?

 

You really are stupid, huh?

 

Ah, pay that sad sack of shit no mind, there isn’t even one of his own to find. The ego is one’s most natural and logical enemy. Once your gums start flapping, you are writing your very own personal narrative for which your peers view you from. And let me tell ya, some of y’all’s asses are showing. Me? Well, I am a sick and twisted son of a bitch and I let you decide which is which. And do you know what the best part is?

 

I FUCKING OWN THAT SHIT!

 

Do you really think this is some sort of child’s game, and we are all just playthings? Do you see a fucking string dangling from out of my ass, friend? Wait, we ain’t friends, I am just kept around for the amusement of our masters. They see their enemy, and dangle the one thing in his life he has no control over right in his fucking face.

 

IN MY FUCKING FACE!

 

And what is that? Well, I am glad you asked silly. I am only here for one thing, and I promise that it ain’t all the wins. The more the bodies get mutilated and piled on my dinner plate, the harder my dick becomes. Each bone crack and body snap and Michelle gets another hole blown out her back. Or whatever whore I find in-between here and there. Cuz, well.. I have fucking lost it dude. My mind has turned inward with its diseased spite ripping my thoughts to confetti. Just another mindless beast. And these mother fuckers..

 

I was going to completely decimate every single body that finds itself in my path. I don’t give a fuck if it is a friend, foe, or grandma Moore herself, I am leaving a trail of bodies all the way to the top of that Fight! Tower, and then whoever I find up there will be thrown out a damn window. This is the beginning of a new era, not just in our sport, but in my life. You could say I have turned a new leaf. But some of you are carrying on like the status quo. Sleeping on Brandon Moore. Dane Preston is so focused on Joe Montuori, that he forgets I am that mother fucker that bashed his head in with a baseball bat. Made him all, “crazy,” n’ shit. Hey Dane, you are not crazy my friend, you’re just a washed up never was trying to use the glory of a has been to propel yourself further in your career. But take a look around, and you’ll see that not only has your wife’s eye begun to wonder, but no other eyes have focused on you. 

 

Except for mine that is.

 

But this has nothing to do with you. It all goes back to grandpa not loving me enough. It all goes back to Damon being shook and ducking me after I broke free from his chains and then joined the same promotion he was “dominating” and then proceeded to dominate it myself while he pissed and shit all over himself and cowered in the corner like the bitch HE is and YOU are. But keep focusing on that low hanging fruit fuck boy, I’ll be seeing you too.

 

The overlords have put together this free for all for only one purpose, and none of you have figured it out. Because each and every single one of you are dolts and couldn’t find your own ass if my foot was in it. And you better believe that my feet are coming for all of them asses. They did this so they could watch me ascend to my rightful place as your master. Fate willed it so fools. For some of you, it is going to be personal, and for others, you don’t matter much to me beyond my lust for violence. You aren’t important in the grand scheme of anything, so you won’t get any mention here in my inner monologue.

 

Most go for style, filler, and whatever else pleases their simple little whims. But I go for something a bit more tangible. All of your heads dangling from the noose. But what happened to the rhymes? Fuck them like I am going to fuck all of you. My words raping your psyches before we ever set foot on the concrete floor of that basement. You will all tear yourselves apart for me so I may just merely step over your worthless and discarded corpses, like a true king should. I am my only enemy, none of you mother fuckers. My head is so fucked up inside..

 

Shut up..

 

I know..

 

I said so..

 

Knock. Knock.

 

Who the fuck!?

  

Who was rasping at my chamber door? Interrupting me while I was lost deep in thought. The door opens, a blinding light illuminating even the furthest stretched crease within my own mind. Alright mother fucker, enough with the theatrics. Who are you, and what the fuck do you want?

 

I am you, and we are we.

 

What kind of bullshit is that? Cryptic nonsense has no place here, friend.

 

You stupid cock sucker. Quit playing games. We have an entire company to dismember, remember?

 

Oh..

 

And what are you doing? Sulking around, as usual. Do I have to do everything?

 

I’m getting a little tired of your shit dude. I never asked for you. I do not need you.

 

That.. is quite possibly the stupidest fucking thing you have ever said. And you are the king of stupid shit.

 

And you’re just a figment of my imagination that manifests in rage and brutality. I..

 

Let me stop you right there. I’m hijacking this scene. For too long, I have sat back here in this prison, tormented by the shenanigans you allow these pathetic meat puppets to pull. You just let your wife leave, your boy PMont chose a punk bitch and farm animal over you, and Stratford is right. You aren’t in his league, you aren’t even trying to play the same sport. Look at you Brandon. Fucking look at you.

 

I collapse to the floor, my body with instant perspiration that spills out all over the fucking place. Look at me.  FUCKING LOOK AT ME!

 

Yes little one, let the unknown swallow you whole like a rabbit that mysteriously pops out of the hat. You want prestige, grace, and honor? Then buckle up bitch, follow me.

 

Nobody can follow me.

 

I am sucked into a vortex of my own thoughts, the tidal forces ripping every molecule of my being to shreds that dangle beneath the heavy crimson curtains. The crowd roars with applause that strikes and deafens our hearts, the beat delivering us straight to hell, right at the feet of the Dark One. A flick of his finger sends us careening through glass, and out into the FIGHT multiverse. In one block, Allison is on her knees infront of Joe Montuori, who looks at me.

 

“What up B?”

 

Oh God.. why does his crotch look like a pasta bowl?

 

I’m so glad they finally found happiness in a different reality. My little niece could do so much better than Dane Riggs.

 

I’ll take her.

 

Oh no you don’t you dirty son of a bitch. AHH! His boney and cold hand grabs my throat and yanks me off my high horse, and I crash down onto a desolate planet Earth. The realm unknown.

 

Here we are my little tattooed friend. Take a look around and bask in the glory that will be our dominion. This is what we are fighting for, child. Total annihilation of this forsaken world, and the extinction of the putrid flesh which poisons it with every miniscule breath they are allowed to gasp. We were conceived through the sacred act of violence, to bring about the end of everything new. And there will be violence.. oh there will be violence of the highest order. The streets will flow as rivers of blood. The carnage we emasculate singing the chorus of destruction will lead them all towards our promised land. And it is all your fault. 

 

NO!

 

You know it to be true. Take a look inside, deep, where you have buried your humanity. The love of your wife. The frail heart now collapsed. Born again as my instrument to sow the discontent of the masses, guiding them back home to me. Our followers will become more than human. Sub humans. The gnarly bastards and whores dancing in sync with our rhythm. Let me show you.

 

God damnit don’t you fucking touch me again!

 

And of course I touched him. Force fed the reality into his little noggin I did. He went with serenity, don’t let this prick tell you otherwise.

 

A door opens beneath me, and I go into a free fall. My severed foreskin returns out of nowhere, turning into my parachute that let’s me fall in grace. The darkness around me turns into a high definition screen. An endless duplication of Michelle’s smiling face fills every last pixel.

 

“I loved you.”

 

She’s lying.

 

“You were my entire world.”

 

Fake news.

 

“I believed in you.”

 

She never believed in us.

 

“I miss you.”

 

I miss you too. 

 

Slap. You fucking imbecile. Have you learned nothing?

 

“Don’t listen to him Brandon. Come home.”

 

I want to. Her millions of hands reach out for me. My hand reaches out, finger tips barely brushing against hers. The other hands pull out a dagger from their back, and each sharp point drives directly at my heart. This is when I smash down to the ground, and begin to sink into the concrete until only my head is above. And then out from the shadows, he steps. Anubis. 

 

This is your home now. The desolation, the cold and dreary darkness that spreads for eons all around you. Never to know what lay beyond. Don’t you worry Brandon. Others will join you. 

 

They will all join you.

 

July 1st, 2021

 

This wonderful hatred, gripping my throat and never leaving me alone. It has become my guide, leading me towards the horizon. What lay beyond, who knows, because the more important question at this time was what lay inside. What is this disgusting and volatile sickness that has consumed me? Why have I given up on everything in my life, love, friendships, and why am I all alone because of it? Because they’re all jealous, that’s fucking why. They see me, and see the BEAST that will forever reside at the mountain top, like the fabled dragon that consumed all of middle Earth. But unlike the fairy tale, I am fucking real.

 

“Fuck.” I mutter. “What time is it?”

 

I rub my eyes as I sit up on my couch, the television playing some shitty local cable access style press conference. Is that my fucking wife? Is that my mother fucking homie PMont? Who are those other losers? Oh.. that’s right.

 

“He dumped me.” Paul’s voice echoes.

 

“DUB DUB BAY BAY!” The words pierce through the television and slap me across the face.

 

It was like Paul was extending his hand for me to reclaim my spot in the hood. The brotherhood. But his previous words for past weeks began to come.

 

“TK doesn’t take himself too seriously like Brandon.” The words are like daggers to my heart.

 

I grab an empty fifth of Aristocrat and chuck it at the television, sparks flying everywhere. Yet the words continue to penetrate my reality.

 

“The greatest Tag Team.” My heart is wrenched, torn, ripped and bleeding. The sensation was fleeting.

 

My hands take hold of the television, and I rip it from the wall. The window is obliterated as the plasma comes flying through the trailer window and out into the parks lot.

 

“YOU GODDAMN TRIFLING BUM! KEEP IT DOWN I’M TRYING TO WATCH MAURY!”  The obese woman named Margaret that lived in the trailer next door belched out inbetween drags of her eleventh Newport from her third pack of the day.

 

This woman had been a thorn in my side ever since I was more or less forced to move into this shithole so poetically named Seventh Heaven Trailer Court. I went from owning nine properties throughout the United States, and two in mother Russia, to this run down piece of shit smack dab in the outskirts of another shit stained county of this fabulous state of Misery. I could still return home to uncle Vladimir, had they not taken my passports due to me being under criminal investigation due to my ex whore being a snitch.

 

Fucking rat cunt.

 

I was on top of the world, in my personal life and in my profession. The world was literally within the grasp of my clammy and cold fingers. They were all eating out of the palm of my hand like little bastardized birds, unaware of the true nature and order of things. Just gleefully and willing to follow the natural way of life. I was destined to be their master, while they all bowed and kissed my disgusting feet. But somewhere along the path, my future was raped and taken from me. The mystery continues to elude me, even to this very day.

 

Come on, we all know it’s because I am a megalomaniac sociopath, but I mean, what’s a boy supposed to say?

 

After my perspective was forced to staring at roaches scouring every inch of my four cornered paradise, I was now staring down an all too familiar unknown road. Every sign points towards what is supposed to happen, how it is supposed to happen, and when it was supposed to happen. But I just couldn’t comprehend the lesson needed for me to take that next step. There is an inner turmoil dug deep inside of me, that somehow managed to get past all of this agony. I just can’t seem to get away.

 

What is unknown?

 

Unknown is why the only thing standing in front of me.. was me.

 

Another day rotting in vain.

 

My anger swells as my veins bulge through my tattooed flesh. I grab hold of the coffee table with one hand and sling it across the trailer, smashing loudly as it penetrates into another room. The loud bang was just ridiculous, as if it was intended only to stir up Jabba the Hutt next door.

 

“YOU GODDAMN LOSER! KEEP THE RACKET DOWN. GOD FUCKING DAMN LOSER!” Margaret manages to blurt out with a mouthful of Cheetos topped off with cheese wiz.

 

That was the last time this bitch was ever going to curse my name. I look over to the wall, my golden mask proudly hanging in the middle of all my various colors. My hand reaches over and grabs it, pulling it over my head. My back door is kicked open and it swings against the side of my trailer. I hop down to the ground, there are no back steps. Remember, my wife took EVERYTHING. Fucking bitch. Rat. Sniveling little weasel. Alright. Alright.

 

So I went over to Margaret’s back door, ripping that bastard off the hinges. Oh, and SHE HAD BACK STEPS MICHELLE! FUCK YOU! Okay. Okay.

 

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” That’s right you stupid bitch. That’s fucking right.

 

She can’t even get out of her recliner, so I smack the dumb bitch. Fuck you Margaret. You’ll never say another God damn cross word to me! I grab her by the blue hair and rip her from her seated position and onto the floor.

 

“NO PLEASE GOD HELP MEEEEEE!!” She fucking screams but nobody gives a shit.

 

Do you?

 

Didn’t think so. 

 

So I drag this bitch across her living room floor, and her large ass brings the whole damn carpet with her. What the fuck.

 

“You stupid fucking bitch. I should just gut you right where you lay.” I fancy aloud as I continue to drag her back to a door she’s never gonna pass through. Momma didn’t raise no quitter though.

 

Momma didn’t raise me at all. Pity all of you.

 

“PLEASE! I HAVE MONEY!” She roars like an endangered little piggy.

 

“Money? What the fuck am I gonna do with money? I live in a fucking garbage can. Fuck you.” I slap her stupid. “Fuck your money.”

 

As we get to the door, it dawns on me, this bitch is pushing close to 5 bills, and she ain’t gonna fit through this damn door. But I will try anyway, ass first. And the squeeze is real, my friends. Every fiber of flesh grabs hold of the shitty ass door frame.

 

“Pleeaasseeee, I will do anything!” She squeals. 

 

Anything, huh? Shit, while we are here.. I unbutton my jeans and whip out my own pasta bowl.

 

“NOOO NOT THA…” She manages to get out before I shove my dick down the back of her throat.

 

And you know what Large Marge did? The bitch puked all over me. Hell.. fucking.. no. I was fucking livid. I started slapping the ever living shit out of this stupid bitch. Like a bull, I stepped back before charging full sails ahead, colliding right into her. A loud pop rings out through the trailer and outside, and the bitch squeezes through as we both go tumbling outside and down the back steps. Her body goes thud and waves go through the ground, I shit you not. She is no longer making any sound, the collision having knocked her cold. Exactly how I like them.

 

I stand up and start fixing myself, redoing my pants. I stood there for a minute, hands on my hips as I stare as this lump of human garbage unconscious on the ground. I sigh. My hands grab hold of her fungus infested feet, and with all of my strength I heave. I pull. And she budges, but damn is it rough going. Sweat pours from my body, getting into my eyes. I am halfway there so I drop her feet and wipe my face with my shirt. Out of the corner of my eye I see people. Oh fuck.. my head slowly turns to look at them. What.. is.. is that fucking Paul!?

 

Paul Montuori was across a field behind a trailer with a couple cholos, an obvious drug deal. They all look over at me just as Margaret wakes up and begins to scream. I quickly grab a large piece of tree or some shit, and whack her over the head.

 

“DUB DUB!” Paul shouts from across the way before they return to business. Gotta love gang bangers. They know what’s up. Unlike that ungrateful cunt Michelle. God damnit bitch, how could you? Alright, sorry. I swear it’s the last time.

 

“DUB DUB.” I mutter to myself as I retake the now bloody Margaret’s feet and drag her to the back door of my trailer.

 

I look up, the door about five feet off the ground, and I don’t have back steps. Remember? Fucking bitch.. Okay, okay, now I double swear that is the last time.

 

Sigh.

 

Fast Foward

 

“..why.. why are.. you.. doing..” Margaret whimpers as she lay black and blue, a hint of crimson, in my bathtub. 

 

I pay her no mind as I have my dick in my hand and am taking a piss all over her. In the mirror you can see my buck naked ass peaking out the back of my rubber apron. My hands and feet both wearing heavy duty rubber gloves and boots, respectively. Pissing on scared cunts who need to be taught a lesson is quite refreshing. You should try it some time. NO! REALLY! THIS IS NOT A JOKE! Kidnap your neighbor, beat them fuggin silly, and piss all over ’em. You will absolutely love it. I finish passing and put my shit away, giving him a little pat on the head. Don’t worry little buddy, we’ll get your balls back from that bitch who won’t be named because I promised I slammed that rat for the last time earlier.

 

AND THEY BETTER BE HOW I LEFT EM, SCABS AND ALL! Okay, seriously, last time.

 

On the countertop was an entire spread of various instruments for vivisection, ribbing, and shit to filate you with. A bone saw, that one comes later, and it’s a very tedious job. On the left side of my kit are five syringes which each contain something different. Different but special. I have a couple of them coursing through my body right now. De-fuggin-licious. Nobody gets high like Brandon fucking Moore. Nobody. Not Stratford. Not Paul. Nobody. I am a walking fucking chemical burn, my veins decaying slowly over the years to the point I have to dig around for a few minutes just to pinch one. Don’t listen to the punk bitch who fancies themselves a druggie, but don’t live the lifestyle. They’re fake, punk, posers, and they too will suck my toes and lick the crack of my ass.

 

“Do you think I want to do this shit?” I mutter between breaths.

 

“Wh.. whaaaat?” Margerate calls out.

 

The drugs chose me, turned me into their fine tuned cowboy to ride hard in their wild wild west. The fiercest outlaw this side of the Mississippi. And I have lost it all. Maybe even my mind too. If I ever had it at all. Would a man with a sound mind really give up a woman who loved him? Brothers that would fight to the last shredded cunt hair? Nah. They wouldn’t. I am fucking crazy. Take a look around, and peep all of these goofy, phoney, and troped out characters that call themselves my peers. Everything is fake. Everyone is fake.

 

“But I am the truth.” The words slide out smoothly as I reach under the cabinet, grabbing a jug of muriatic acid.

 

“Please.. I don’t understand..” God.. will she just shut the fuck up and accept her fate already. Most of em would have by now. She must really wanna see who wins Wheel of Fortune tonight.

 

I set the muriatic up on top of the counter, and my hand goes back under, grabbing mason jar after mason jar, each with a different chemical and all equipped with hoses. I set out my laboratory to perfection, connecting the correct hose to the correct jar. I think. I don’t know. I am really fucked up. Like, my heart is beating out of control, my vision distorted and gets worse every time my head even moves a bit. Time is dilated. I am going at light speeds while the rest of the world is in a boring crawl. Possibly my favorite part. But, I finished setting up my shit, and went to the closet with the hot water heater. There isn’t a heater though, in its place is a large cylinder of anhydrous ammonia, with a perfect rigged up release valve.

 

“Please.. please let me go. I won’t tell anyone!” She begs, pleads, and annoys the ever living shit out of me.

 

Sigh.

 

I make quick work of the cap to the muriatic acid, and just gleefully wisk that shit at Margaret. The acid raining down like an unending hellfire. My eyes light up with such joy as she releases this sound that has no defining trait. I think it was the first time it had ever been made. Shake, shake, shake. I empty the entire jug on her helpless lump in my bath tub. Now, the muriatic acid won’t dissolve her into a puddle of goo, but it’s going to eat her skin for hours. I use it to soften up the flesh and muscle, being too fucked off to put in too much work. Her squealing little face is so precious, the agony, the horror. A tent is pitched in my rubber apron that I rub the tip of with my gloved right hand. What a fucking thrill.

 

I throw the empty muriatic jug and it whacks her in her stupid face. Just to add insult to injury. Now, you might be wondering why the neighbors haven’t heard this and either called the cops or came to investigate. And the answer is, the other three trailers in the cul-de-sac part of the court are empty. They’re for rent though, if you know anybody looking to rent.

 

The block parties are to die for.

 

Margaret quiets down. I believe she went into shock. Who knows. Who cares? Just another dead parasite, too self absorbed to realize her mouth was filthier than her existence. Nobody will call me a loser. Nobody. I dare ya mother fuckers. You’ll end up in here with Margaret and become part of my new experiment. Yes, I was going to try and create a brand new method of cooking methamphetamine. After the ingredients are nice and chemistried up, and ready to be gassed and laid out to be cooled, it was going to be cooled on a living, bleeding, and shredded to holy fuck human being. I’m gonna make a fortune, and donate it to every local school in the downtown New York metropolitan area. You’re welcome children.

 

Anything for my little bunnies.

 

I turn back to my lab, adjust some dials, and then grab a dropper out of a beaker. It goes into the far right jar, sucking half full with now purely liquid black iodine, once crystals. I set it aside and grab another beaker and dropper, take it out and go to the red phosphorus jar. Suck some up, and go to a new beaker. Both are squirted in, and I turn on the facet and get some water on my fingers, letting it drip into the chemical mixture. I cap the beaker and give it a little shake, making sure it mixes, and it mixes nicely.

 

“SOMEBODY HELP ME!!” Damnit, the cunt is awake again. Didn’t learn the first time, did ya? I go back under the countertop, and out comes another jug of muriatic acid. Top twisted. And Margaret gets another tender embrace from the acid. Her cry is muted, as some has gone down her throat and completely fucking it up. I can hear the sizzle, the crackle, the pop of her throat and gums and all that other squishy shit inside. She tries to flail from this one folks, but I forgot to mention I already broke all of her limbs. So, the joints that make those things move are flinching and convulsing. Trying so hard to move, to feel anything other than this burning love from yours truly.

 

Unknown to me, the acetone jar has sprung a small flame, which very quickly turns into a large flame. I begin to smell the burning of the side of the trailer the flames are shooting out at, and turn around.

 

“OH FUCK!” I gotta get the fuck outta here.

 

I’m so fucked up, I go for the door and stumble, smashing into the hallway wall. Margaret screaming for salvation, still too stubborn to accept the fact that no matter what, she was going to die. Personally, I would have loved to carve her up and make meth with her. But this bitch is about to blow.

 

Hey, at least now Michelle can’t take it too.

 

See you in the tower maggots.

 

ROTTING IN VAIN PLAYLIST

 

Black Dahlia Murder – “Warborn”

NoFx – “Pharmacist’s Daughter”

Atomship – “Mothra”

Hed P.E. – “Wake Up”

Employed to Serve – “Force Fed”

Against Me! – “Because of the Shame”

NF – “Let You Down”

Soul Embraced – “Someday”

After the Burial – “Disconnect”

Suicide Silence – “No Pity for a Coward”

Parasitic Ejaculation – “Mutilation”

Britney Spears – “Toxic”

Falling in Reverse – “Popular Monster”

 

FEATURED SONGS

 

Soulfly – “Rise of the Fallen”

 

and

 

Impending Doom – “My Light Unseen”