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Roleplay Boards => Archived Roleplays => Climax Control Archives => Topic started by: Derek Thorne on November 30, 2012, 03:52:21 AM
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It was then that he discovered…
[He was at it again; I could hear her screaming pleading with him to spare her to this torture he subjected her to. My mother was a strong woman but when it came to my father it was like she turned from a hardened ice cube to a pooling puddle of water. He would please her in the sense that to my ears only sounded like full flown rape. He would punish her and leave hand marks across her delicate face for simply not asking or saying the right things. My mother would never leave our house in Sweden how could she? She was battered and bruised. For years I watched the horror unfold before my eyes, night after night I would be subjected to her cries and as I was in my childhood what was I to do? I remember standing up to him once I turned eleven and that’s when my mother allowed him to banish me from our house and from their lives. That’s when I travelled I swore only to return to my birth land of Sweden when I could protect her. When I could save her… little did I know she didn’t need saving. For years I walked this world alone I taught myself the basics the tools that were needed to survive, I don’t depend on anyone one but I sure as hell don’t consider myself as damaged goods. After five long years of fighting for my survival, begging for my next meal and adapting to my forever changing surroundings I had told myself I was finally ready. Returning back to Sweden was my first mistake…
Standing outside the small wooden cottage that he once called home, Derek could hear his mother’s cries for help as the southerly winds blew past him. Her whimpers pierced his ears triggering all his defences. That was the first thing he remembered about returning home, what was to follow he had made sure remained locked away in the back of his mind. A young sixteen year old that was in desperate need of a father figure acted on impulse and barged into the house in a fit of rage, he had to stop him. One day he would be the death of her and that would have been the death of him. Rushing to his mother’s aide Derek had scampered up the stairs and entered his parent’s bedroom. As the door swung open his cold blue eyes fell onto his fragile mother who had once again submitted herself to his father. The look on her face was a picture of pure horror as tears streamed from her bloodshot eyes, looking towards the doorway with desperation reflecting from her irises. He could have sworn what he did next would have been welcomed. Swooping in towards his father Derek’s right hand was out stretched and now around his father’s throat, his mother’s screams of displeasure had turned into horror as she watched this boy man handle the man she undoubtedly loved. As his father tried to cover himself up and make himself decent, Derek has pushed him up against the closest wall. Although Derek was only sixteen thankfully he had taken after his grandfather and inherited his height, while looking directly into his father’s eyes his as the older man begged for his freedom.
"Snälla ... Jag ska göra något bara låt mig gå"
{Please… I’ll do anything just let me go}
As his father spoke blankly to him, Derek felt his face grow hot. Tightening the grip around his father’s neck he slammed him back harder into the wooden wall. His mother was covering herself with bed sheets in the background screaming for the ‘intruder’ to stop.
"Du minns inte mig göra dig pappa?"
{You don’t remember me do you father?}
His father just looked straight through him like the fact that he ever had a son was a very distant memory, it was his mother that had made the connection.
"Derek ... Derek är det du?"
{Derek… Derek is that you?}
She approached her son while wrapping the tattered and torn brown sheets around her body. Her right hand found the side of Derek’s face as she tried to make him look into her eyes. His eyes didn’t shift from his father
"Han kommer aldrig att skada dig igen mamma ... Jag är ledsen att det har tagit mig så lång tid att återvända. För att återgå till dig, för att spara”
{He will never hurt you again mother… I’m sorry that it has taken me this long to return. To return to you, to save you}
Without another word his grip around his father’s neck intensified once more as his old man was now gasping for air. Feeling the compression on his father’s wind pipe Derek was just seconds away from crushing it. That is when his mother had jumped on his back trying to force him off of her husband.
"Släpp honom Derek ..."
{Let him go Derek…}
But he didn’t listen he just pressed back harder on his father’s throat
"Du försvarar fortfarande honom efter allt han har gjort för att du är du galen mamma?"
{You still defend him after everything he has done to you are you mad mother?}
Snapping through gritted teeth Derek was at his wits ends. His father was trying to talk trying to explain but it sounded like a chainsaw as the sounds couldn’t be turn into proper words.
"Din far skulle aldrig skada mig Derek din far älskar mig ..."
{Your father would never hurt me Derek your father loves me…}
It was then when he made his second mistake tossing his mother off of his back he had sent her crashing to the floor. Without even the slightest look back Derek had started to pound his closed fists into his father’s face. Punch after punch connected with his father’s hard skin as it was soon busted open. That’s when everything starts to become a blur that’s when everything becomes a faded memory. He remembers watching his father slide down the wall busted open he was still breathing… just. Turning to face his mother Derek swooped down to pick her up but she pushed him away. Scooting across the floor she drove on top of her husband looking back at her son.
"Få ut ... FÅ UT"
{Get out… GET OUT}
He couldn’t for a moment in time understand what he had done wrong; he had waited five years to save her. He had made sure he left his father alive but Derek had also made sure that his father would never lay a hand on his mother again. It’s then when the concept hit him like a ton of bricks, she had enjoyed it this whole time she was being assaulted she had become accustomed to his father’s behaviour it was a treat to her. His mother was just as sick if not sicker than his father. Without another word Derek looked down at his bloody fists before fleeing the house.
Now you see why he walks this globe alone, this is the secret that Derek carries deep inside him. This is the one story of his shady past that no one absolutely no one could ever learn, discover or ever be entrusted enough to be told.]
It was then that he found me…
[People will want to ask how I met Spike, how I have become accustomed to calling the Most Sadistic Bastard my brother. Truth be told when I first laid eyes on the towering figure with his pale face and spikey bad boy haircut, I had detested him. He was walking into my world, a world that I had dominated for years. It was like watching a much more defined version of me walk into my life, he was everything I wanted to be. When I fought I would go out for blood I would go out for pain I would go out there and compete for one thing and one thing only the bitter sweet taste of victory. While Spike was more calculated more unpredictable more in sync it was like wrestling to Spike was like an inhale to an exhale a marriage made in heaven. To say I’m the wrestler I am today because of his contribution would be an understatement but trust me when I say he doesn’t get all the credit. There are still some tricks up these sleeves that even my brother doesn’t know I behold. It was the night that he saved me when I knew that there was some good still left in this world. It was that night I learnt that humanity still exists. He could have left me to die, he could have just walked over me but for some unknown reason he was willing to extend his hand and take me in. When you have spent a percentage of your life living on the streets having to defend yourself, it is easy to think that everyone and everything is against you. I know what it’s like to be continuously fighting for tomorrow, while being thankful for the present while still carrying the pain from yesterday.
Lying flat on his back Derek’s eyes were concealed by the mixture of blood, sweat and snow. His lip was busted his face was badly bruised once again he had found himself in a fight. He was in the middle of an abandoned back alley behind the town’s darkest dirtiest night club. Derek’s only set of ‘going out’ clothes had been destroyed the buttons from his collared shirt had been ripped off. The sleeves had been forcefully removed, while the belt loops on his slacks had been torn from their stitching. Wrapped around his neck was his black leather belt that has been reaped from his pants, rolling over to his side Derek coughed up a mouthful of blood and spat it on the snow covered ground. He could hear footsteps in the distance and had automatically assumed that his ‘attacker’ had come back to finish him off.
"Ich wusste, dass du zurückkehren würde ... wie deine Freundin ... sie kommt immer wieder für Sekunden ... Drittel ... Viertel"
“I knew you would return… just like your girlfriend… she always comes back for seconds… thirds… fourths”
Derek was a smart arse that had a problem with letting his mouth run him into dangerous situations. Laughing loudly in between coughs and splutters he showed his teeth that were completely crimson from his own blood. The sound of several footsteps now vibrated through his ear drums, Derek had thought his attacker had brought reinforcements but it was only the sound of people passing by.
"Du hast deine Freunde, wie schön"
“You brought your friends how nice”
Trying to drag himself up off the ground Derek started to rub the blood from his eyes, it was then that he felt a set of firm hands on his shoulders. The owner of the hands pulled Derek up to a seated position and rested him up against the brick wall that was behind him.
"Holen Sie sich Ihre Hände weg von mir ..."
“Get your hands off me…”
Shrugging his shoulders Derek took a blind swing at whoever was out their hoping that they would just leave him alone, but he was ready to fight blinded or not. His saviour finally spoke.
"Derek ... es ist mir Spike ... was zur Hölle ist mit dir passiert?"
“Derek… it’s me Spike… what the hell happened to you?”
A smirk crossed the battered face of Derek as Spike’s voice was very familiar to him for some strange reason it was a relief to hear his deep tone.
“Bitches… Spike… Bitches”
A confident smile still crept over his defined facial features as they both let out a laugh. Since the encounter with his parents when he was sixteen Derek had grown an intolerance to love in fact he laughed at the motion of people being happily in love. He laughed at the idea of having a girlfriend he was more of a have several ladies on the go at the same time type of fellow. The sad thing was that the girls knew that they were all competing but there was something about him that had (legal) teenage girls acting like grown up ladies. Fumbling around in his trouser pockets Derek had found a cigarette and his lighter, offering one to Spike who obliged taking one from the pack. Derek shrugged his shoulders as his sight was slowly returning back to normal as he continued to wipe the liquid from his face. Sucking back a long drag on his cigarette he watched as Spike took a seat beside him.
"Kann nicht mit ihnen leben kann ohne sie nicht leben '"
“Can’t live with them can’t live without them’”
Pulling the cigarette back away from his face Derek laughed spilling the smoke from his swollen lips. It was there that he and Spike had spent the next four hours talking it was there that Spike had lit a small candle inside the cold dead beast known as Derek Vincent Thorne.]
It was then that I found you…
We open up in a dimly lit room with nothing absolutely nothing in it, the camera pans around to see the newest addition the Sin City Wrestling roster sitting in the corner of the room. His expression on his face is cold but he seems happy. Sitting with his legs out stretched in front of him while his hands are cupped together in front of his face in a prayer like motion. Derek is by no means religious he just likes the drama. He is wearing what appears silver designer suit with the top three buttons of the dress shirt unbuttoned. Clicking his tongue off the roof of his mouth Derek’s mixed accent is heard.
“No doubt that people will want to know why I chose to build a home in America and why I chose to sink my roots into the wrestling world especially in Sin City Wrestling? Well it will all be revealed shortly…. I received a call from a long lost comrade he had asked me to join him and join him I will. You wrestling enthusiasts scream his name in support, in love, in dedication week in and week out to you he is your current Sin City Wrestling Champion but to me he is my brother. A brother that is not linked by blood but is in fact combined by pure understanding of the cause, the cause of why we fight, why we live and why we are willing to die. I have faced my demise more than once and hit the very bottom of the barrel dipping my fingers into the ingredients that has made me who I am today… you may not know me but I assure you that I know you. Although I do not know your name nor have we ever spoken or met… I can tell a man from a boy with the way he donates himself to the cause I can tell a real warrior from a school yard bully by the way his holds his sword… I can tell a historical reaper over a fresh young blood. I don’t need to know your names, your accomplishments or your dreams and desires. I just need to know your tolerance… for anguish I will sense your tolerance the moment you enter my world, my life, my pulse… the squared circle that I call my playground. Do not count me out because you do not know me or because I am ‘new’ to town, do not be so quick to judge me for what you see but evaluate me for what I am about to do… my goal is to stay true to the cause, my way is to do it with my upmost loyalty and my outcome for now until forever stays the same… conquering. Upon taking the call and signing the dotted line to my marriage to this indulgence I call a job… I vowed that I would offer my brother my support, my guidance and until the very last drop of blood is drained from my body he will receive my alliance. A coalition has been formed but until our plan can finally meet the light of day you must wait patiently because something so deliberate cannot be rushed due to ignorance or sheer impatience.”
continues to just sit on the floor looking directly down the lens of the camera not moving an inch, he seems to be ink his zone the dimly lit room is his haven something that the Sin City Wrestling crowd will soon learn.
“Some say the first fight is the hardest because the poison that surrounds a debut can be intoxicating. The injection of a new life style a new playground with new mysteries, I do not hide from the unknown I embrace the unknown for years I had fought off unseen battles and for years I have remained standing. Come this Sunday you will see my inaugural brawl against fellow Sin City Wrestling superstars known as John Void and Thatcher Rex. They say that a debut can make or break you which causes me to laugh… I will not allow you to think you can break me for I am already broken. You cannot break what has already been shattered and you cannot destroy some one that has already suffered. I know what it’s like to crawl along the bottom of the food chain collecting scraps for my next meal I know what it’s like to be confined in cage that I call my reservation. Do not doubt what you do not understand… one does not rattle the cage and get away with it… everything in life has a consequence, this Sunday John and Thatcher you will meet your consequence through me. You both claim you are ready for war? But are you both sure this is what you want to encounter? I have seen wars I have seen victims of war I have seen the outcome of war and this war we participate that we enter will be similar to civil war because every great warrior needs his slaves. You will be my slaves captured in the strategic web I weave… much like the slaves you two will be constricted, beaten and left in the middle of the ring to die in shame. I know what power I govern and I know how to use it… from the bottom of the pit to a ruler of the shadows I am not afraid to step out of my comfort zone because I have never been restricted with security. Nor do I participate in safety first routines… I fight for now, I fight for the cause and more significantly I fight for myself.”
Tapping his chest with his right hand Derek continues.
“Do not even think of standing there and saying that you can out power me or out wrestle me because you are stronger, because you’re known for being undefeated or a glorified champion. Strength does not come from victory, strength is built from your past struggles, when you can walk throw the valley of the dead and you choose not to surrender that’s when you can call yourself strong that’s when you can call yourself a fighter… that’s when you are truly unbeatable. Anyone can win it’s repeating the motion that makes the point valid. You see a man can win a battle with cancer but that does not mean he wins the war of impending death… time runs out for everything… everything has an expiry… some dates just come a lot faster then others. Winning isn’t everything it’s the will to win that is measured… in my case this Sunday the glass is half full because my will is a lot stronger because I have a commitment to honour… I have a purpose that must be fulfilled. Commitment is a big part of who I am in the ring, how committed are you to standing up for what you believe in? How committed are you to being trustworthy? To being successful? How far will you go to prove your bonds? Your ties and your vows? There is moment every morning when you look into the mirror that’s when you should be asking yourself are you committed enough to handle the outcome? I know the outcome the outcome is strength and in strength I am plentiful. Come this Sunday I will show you all why I need to win why I need to have the sweet taste of victory on my lips… I do not measure winning via a three count I measure winning by the method of a point being proven.”
Not much to report here as Derek just continues to eye the camera licking his lips.
“Thatcher and John a mistake is always forgivable but rarely excusable your mistake will be entering the pen with me at Climax Control… at Climax Control it will be the end of the shadowing doubt of my debut… all that matters is that in the end it doesn’t matter how smart you both are it is far better to be wise… and now your cause… come Climax Control you will suffocate to the Cause of devastation you will suffer at hands of the Thorne…”
With that said and done the camera slowly pans out and away from Derek’s face, the promotional debut had been handled…