Wandering Into The Unknown
Writing Prompt: No
Date: 9th Jul 2021
***Sometimes, they say you should be afraid of the unknown. That it is the wander down that passage that can strike through the heart of even the most fearless of man. I say, they have been lying to you. Or at the very least, they neglect to account for those who embrace all that it holds.***
The masked monolith known as Korrupt is in the same room we have known him to be in. Sitting on the same steel chair he always does, yet this time – the vibe around the room is different. Well, in the air, that is. See, recently it was revealed that his old domain. The grounds in which he and the cure were attempting to purge the poison and build the shrine anew, the OPW was no more. Sent off in what some people would refer to as a blaze of glory, with Korrupt annilihating Necra Ocatavia Kane in what – at the time – was assumed to be his final call.
However, it wasn’t, as OPW merely changed forms. Merely acquired a new coat of paint, so to speak, becoming simply known as FIGHT. A name that is simplistic in nature, yet epitimises all that wrestling is supposed to stand for. Or at least, how the shrine devised it.
Yet, there is still an element of the unknown about it. Just what does this mean for the entities that stood before? What shall become, of those who had claimed their seed? Just how shall the new moniker impact those who had invested and bought into the previous product? Most importantly, what is the next step for Korrupt?
***See, the darkness. The sensation of only knowing who or what awaits you when they’re staring deep into my eyes, intrigues me. For it means that just like me, they do not know what I am about, or what I have in store for them until the time comes forth,; they are locked alone, with only me there alongside them. Watching them squirm as they attempt to figure out the key. The passage they should take, if they desire salvation.***
A soft laughter floats into the air, as Korrupt leans back in the chair. His eyes staring out to the vast, vacant space of this room. Yet beneath the surface, something lingers. That image that flickered before his eyes when he had his injection. What was it? What puzzle does it fit into?
Much like the next stanza of FIGHT, this is unknown to him. Even if deep down, he thinks it may be able to unlock a secret. A chamber that has been bolted away from him, ever since he became the man people have been seeing. Ever since he embraced the cold, malevolent side that he had stowed away. Smiling, he feels his eyes slightly glazing over.
***Yet most of them will pretend they understand it. That they have no need to squirm, for deep down – they embrqce what comes before them. That they are prepared for whatever may stand before them, even if they do not understand the first thing about it. Even if it is that very belief, that shall lead them right into the passage of the abyss. With nothing else but their own misery. Their own agony to offer them solace. See, people like to lie to themselves. They like to give themselves a reason to survive, even when their fate has been sealed and their final moments set.***
It is then that the figure that is commonly seen with Korrupt enters the room. This time, however, he is not wearing a hood over his head. Thus revealing that he is in the age range for 35-40 and has slicked back black hair. A slight smile crosses his face, as he looks at Korrupt. Noticing the glaze in his eyes, but being familiar with the spaced out expression. After all, Korrupt is just as much an unknown as the supposed unknown FIGHT has been harping on about since they revealed their identity.
In fact, some might say that Korrupt is the most unknown identity of them all, aside from the fact he is callous and unfeeling when he steps between the ropes and only cares about making sure his opponents burn. Whether that be in the literal sense or the metaphorical sense.
Yet the masked monster himself has not spoken a single word. All that is conveyed about him, is regaled through this figure. The man who simply preaches just what is preparing to arise, in the most cryptic way possible. Adding to the eerie aura surrounding the cure’s so called ‘secret weapon’. The figure turns around, as if to speak to the cameras hidden in the room.
Figure- For some, this new phase is a mystery. A means for them to start anew; obtain a legacy they had been previously denied. For some, it is merely a means to reaffirm their previous status, yet for Korrupt, it is this very phase that shall be when it all comes to all. When everything that he has claimed. Every ounce of pain that radiates inside of him, shall be bought about, as the world burns. As his hands, bring about the fate that they have always desired.
The figure pauses, a chill rising in the air.
Figure- No matter what those who wish they could hold their fate might elect to believe. No matter what those who are brave enough to stand forth might tell you, it has all been set into stone. The puzzle pieces have all been slotted into their place, merely awaiting for the time they may be needed. For the moment this very puzzle comes forth and reveals the shrines true cause.
The figure softly laughs, as Korrupt continues to blankly stare forward. Hearing but electing not to react to the words that are being spoken. Words that spell out just what awaits those who stand forth and attempt to provide some form of resistance. If one can call their battle that. If one was to peer inside of Korrupt, you would learn he doesn’t see it that way.
Figure- It’d be wise if you heeded that design. If you simply come forth and fall before it, otherwise — I cannot promise that you will be able to wander upon this realm again, for you will be dancing to his dance. Singing his song. A song that shall spell out your final moments, as your grave is lowered into the ground for your eternal slumber.
An eerie chill rises, as the figure turns his head over his right shoulder. The cue for the cameras to pan into a now focused, with burning eyes, Korrupt. His face contorting into a sinister smirk.
Figure- It may be claimed as a new start. A fresh breath of air, but soon enough — you shall all finally understand why it is people claim you should fear the unknown, for it is that unknown that shall consume you. Yet what they didn’t tell you is that you should also fear what it is that is known, if you are unable to prevent the destined outcome.
The figure chuckles.
Figure- And deep down, you don’t know if you can prevent it. If you knew, you wouldn’t resist. You would embrace it. None of you have done so, regardless of what you elect to believe. Regardless of the mere words that leave your mouths. The static that you call statements. For those are mere epilogues to your tales. The last suppers of your very essance, if that is what makes you more comfortable – or at peace – with that realisation.
His train of thought is suddenly diverted by a low groan leaving the lips of Korrupt. Another flash having appeared before him. This time, two shadows, hidden in a beach type of setting. And – just as the first image had – vanishes in a flash. Taunting him. Withholding just what it is just attempting to inform him of. What it is supposed to awaken within him.
Figure- You okay?
The monolith simply nods his head, masking the confusion within him being a stoic veil.
***What is that? Why is it striking me?***
The figure, not convinced, moves to pivot and head toward Korrupt but stoos himself. Realising that it is likely best if they don’t allow any sign of weakness to be revealed, lest there be a persona who can find a way to exploit it.
***Just what does it wish to inform me? It’s as if I know what it holds, but just cannot put my finger on where I have seen this image. As if it is something that has been repressed.***
Korrupt reclines back, returning to his vacant, cold stare. The figure returns to his previous position, clearing his throat and attempting to remember what he had been preaching prior to the distraction.
Figure- If I am to offer some advice, it would be – run. For the unknown – for Korrupt, is the most dangerous entity that you shall find yourself forced to confront. Plus, you might very well be able to save yourselves by doing so. If you elect not to heed this advice, well, let’s just say your innards shall be his canvas and your little piece, shall be inserted into the machine. Waiting for its final calling.
Figure- And blood money shall become an apt descriptor for what shall arise.
The scene slowly fades, as the figure allows the cameras to pan into the mask of the man who holds FIGHT’s fate in his own hands.