People originally thought I had pulled a Bruce Wayne.
If you’re not kept up to speed in the world of Batman, it’s very simple. Bruce Wayne witnesses his parents being killed at the hands of a mugger named Joe Chill. He swears vengeance on all criminals and uses his fortune to make himself the best in everything he could possibly be, from mastering at least one-hundred twenty-seven martial arts to studying in school on becoming a detective, among other things. Many years later since his parents’ death, he makes his back to Gotham and eventually transforms himself into the Dark Knight, a symbol of justice against those who hurt the innocent.
I’m nothing like Bruce Wayne though. I never inherited my parents’ money. I never swore revenge against those who killed my parents. The only similarity I share with the fictional hero is that I earned what I wanted out of my life in the end, even if it means fighting at an early age to get there.
All I knew, at the time, was simple brawling. After disappearing from my family’s home, I immersed myself in the world of underground fighting at the age of thirteen, a year after my parents died. I fought on guys either taller or shorter, it didn’t matter to me. It was always in different areas of Detroit, always held in cage matches or in a circle. All you had was your brain and brawns to see the matter through. And that’s what I had, not to mention my opponents. All we could is just punch, kick, and knee each other at extremely vulnerable points, hoping to take one of us down quickly before we got injured or worse. At the time, I didn’t know martial arts, but did pick up a few tricks when I watched other fighters. Taking what I learned from them, I merely borrowed it and combined it with a style that’s my own and eventually, I was getting somewhere, to the point of where I remained undefeated, no matter what the odds were.
But..I wanted to learn more.
One time, during the daytime, I stumbled upon an old, brown building that was two floors. I looked up above the entrance and saw a sign that said “Mr. Chang’s Karate School.” This, I decided, would be one of the many martial arts that I swore I would master on my own so that I could make myself to be an efficent, but deadly opponent to all that got in my way in my days in the underground world of fighting. I opened the door and stepped inside as a bell echoed a single sound.
Closing the door behind me, I looked around. It was a large room with a lot of gym equipment and a few punching bags suspended in a few corners of the room. At the center was an older gentleman, dressed in a white gi with a black belt tied around his waist. I watched him practice what looked like a choreographed dance, which consisted of a series of mixed punches and kicks, sometimes even done while spinning or even in the air. I took a brief glance to my left and saw that his shoes were on the floor, so I took off my shoes and socks and placed them next to his before stepping on to the mat. All I had wearing, at the time, was a black Slayer t-shirt and blue shorts, but I was starting to define my physique to the point of where I could have called a badass and it would have been completely legit. I made sure that, with the right exercise and eating, I started to grow my body in what every man would want and what every woman in the world would want to be around with in the future.
In any case, I stepped onto the mat and waited for the man to stop and recognize me. He finished up his little session and turned to face me. He was an old man by this point, with a gray beard and mustache. He was smaller than I was, about 5’2, but I could feel his massive energy surrounding the room. It’s like he had a major presence that couldn’t be ignored, the kind of energy that a major celebrity would give when they walked into the room and no one would be able to ignore it.
Who are you?
I stepped forward, a little scared, but a bit nervous, perhaps even excited. I stopped within a few feet and nodded to him.
My name is Alex. Alex Grayson. And I’m here to learn the martial arts.
For what reason?
I shook my head at the old man.
That is none of your business, old man.
The old man studied me silently, but with serious intent, as if to figure out what I am really after.
Actually, ever since you stepped foot in here, you made it my business to know.
Without warning, he suddenly grasped my left wrist and threw me to the ground. I wasn’t even expecting the attack at all, but it was so quick, so fast, that I didn’t have time to act on my own. I landed on my back, but rose up quickly, turned around, and got into a boxer’s stance. The man nodded at me.
You may call me Mr. Chang, or Sir. You weren’t ready for that move. Even though it’s none of my business, I can feel your anger. What exactly are you angry about?
Seeing my parents in my head drove my next action. Growling with rage, I tried to throw a right hook at him and he again threw me to the other side, as if I was a toy block flung to the far side of the room. I landed hard and groaned in pain as he stood over me and spoke.
For the next one hour, I want you to try and attacking me. By doing so, I’m going to find out whether you are strong enough to deal with me and what I possibly have planned for you, as far as your Karate studies are concerned. But if you can’t handle it, I’m going to throw you out on the streets and you will never step foot in here again, Mr...Grayson. You understand me?
I nodded and he took a few steps back as I did a kip-up. We stood at a short distance, facing each other. For the next hour, I tried everything within my arsenal, doing anything I can to hit him at least once. Despite his smaller stature, however, he was able to deflect all of my attacks and toss me around, like a cat toying with his prey. Of all the fighters that I’ve been tangling with, either muscle-bound fools that relied solely on their strengths or those who knew a little of the martial arts, this man was far beyond anyone I encountered at this point in time. I was bloodied and bruised, a few of my teeth were even knocked out! But I wouldn’t give this man the satisfaction that he won. I wanted to stay here. I wanted to learn from him.
At the end of the session, I was on the ground for the last time that day. He stood before me and leaned over with his hand. I eagerly accepted it and we both sat down, in front of each other. Silence followed for what seemed like an eternity before I said something.
You want to know why I’m angry? Let me tell you a story.
By the end of that conversation, he took me on as a student. I never told him of my fights at the underground. He would be one of the many masters I would learn throughout the years.
* * *
Excuse me, Mr. Grayson? Mr. Grayson?
The flight attendant’s words snapped me back to the present. I looked over to my right and saw a tall, blonde female with curious, blue eyes looking deep into mine.
There is a video that SCW sent you. Would you like to see it?
SCW? It took me a second to recognize the name, but I silently nodded. Taking out a remote, from her pockets, she pressed the “ON” button and a TV monitor before me appeared. The screen flared to life and I was shown an image of a moving man. My fists knotted with rage as I leaned forward.
Please leave, madam. I need to be alone.
She nodded and moved away as I watched Andrew Garcia, the man who I am booked to face for the SCW Roulette title, flare to life. Ariel joined me by my side during the middle of the promo, but I was zoned out. My teeth gritted and my features were as hard as cobblestone as he laid out his relentless assault on me, though brief. Once the promo was done, I considered everything he had to say…
Then I laughed and shook my head back and forth.
I can’t believe he had the gall to call you someone that wasn’t SCW heavyweight championship material!
I picked up the two twins, Arthur and Rose, and placed them on my lap as they were giggling away.
What is all this, Brokeback Mountain? Do I need to see a flashback of two guys gazing somewhere and wanting to take a picture? Please! I honestly do not have time to think about stupid moments like that. if they want to cuddle together in bed nearby a fire, I don’t care. Casey Williams has been non-existent since the day he arrived in SCW and hasn’t made much of a dent around here and the same will be for Andrew Garcia, who clearly is a man of delusions and idiocy!
Lisa, also known as Ariel, my beautiful wife, nodded at me as she had her hands full with our other children, Cecil and Lydia, who were napping quietly. It made me wonder, as a father, if I am able to still handle the day-by-day basis of being a dad while fighting for my job all the time. Could I handle the stress that it gives me? It’s a personal battle that wages inside of me everyday. I don’t like the idea of disappointing my children, especially when they are old enough to know their father and who he was before he became who he is now. Would they be disappointed or proud of their father? I wonder….
Still, doesn’t that fact bother you?
What, that Andrew Garcia said I wasn’t SCW heavyweight championship material?
She nodded.
Sure it does, because I know I belong in that picture and the fact that management continues to deny me an opportunity to destroy Simon Jones’s life for the title enrages me. But he’s wrong about one thing though; I don’t bitch to management. The only thing that I’ve said that they pissed me off, but I would use my rage to my advantage. Clearly, Andrew Garcia has NO CLUE on how to handle the affairs of something high-caliber as the SCW heavyweight championship! It’s going to take eons before that boy grows a pair and actually does something about it. The fact that he’s content to be in second place is ridiculous at best. Even if I won the Roulette title, a part of me will be happy, but not completely. I still want to be at the top of my game, Lisa. Nothing else in the world matters…
Thinking what I said a second ago, I cleared it up.
...except for you and the kids, of course!
She smiled that beautiful smile that made me fall in love with her all those years ago.
I know what you meant, baby, but it’s hard to believe him. He says to the world that he’s willing to admit his mistakes and all, but at the end of the day, won’t he be the one to cry and moan about it if things would not go his way? Isn’t that what everyone else does? I mean, we complain, but not as much as the others do. We have a right to voice our opinion, speak our own mind, and have ourselves be heard. But unlike Andrew Garcia, Alex, you bide your time and you wait until the reward is handed to you, then you make the most of it.
While that’s true, Lisa, in some battles, I didn’t come up the way I did, but I’m fine with that. Do you know why?
She looked at me quizzically.
Because every defeat I go through, it makes me learn and overcome the obstacles that are thrown my way. That’s why I know, for a fact, that Andrew Garcia is ripe for the taking, you know? Doesn’t matter if I fought with him or against him, Lisa, but Andrew Garcia is the kind of guy that will deliver everything he has and unfortunately come up short. Sure, he’s had a few lucky nights for himself, such as winning the SCW roulette title, but it no longer matters. Chaos In Cape Town is coming and I plan on erasing him, making him nothing but a forgettable memory.
Cecil was crying for a second, so I gently tried to soothe him with calm, baby talk as Rose was sleeping peacefully in my left arm. Looking up at my wife, she kissed me without any hesitation or doubt within her mind.
She knew I would get the job done at the PPV. She knew that my words would back up my action and that I would be the next SCW Roulette champion.
* * *
All along, I knew the truth!
You were born a pathetic failure for everyone to see and that truth was quite evident not too long ago, Andrew Garcia. The man who somehow got lucky in earning himself a championship belt in the Roulette division failed to get the job done. I wipe my hands clean of this filth once and for all and I now vow vengeance for everything crime he committed against me! Do you have ANY idea how worthless and embarrassing you turned out to be, Andrew? I told you to do your job and that I would do mine! I did everything in my power to stay on top of the game and keep us alive, but I made the mistake of tagging you in that night. Quite frankly, I should have stayed in and kicked their collective, sorry asses without your help, because you were caught in a position that you could have easily gotten yourself out of it and you showcased nothing but a poor, weak effort on your behalf! What does that exactly say for everyone around the world that’s watching? It’s telling all of us that, despite you winning the Roulette title on April 27th, 2014, a new champion needs to be crowned. It needs to be someone that will take this place to greater heights unlike any other man that has held it in the past. It also needs to be someone who is tougher, stronger, and much, MUCH better in every aspect of the game! Who better than the man that’s fit to challenge you for the Roulette title? That man is me, Kain, The King Of Kings! And no, Andrew, that’s not a false title. That’s not a false name that I carry around my shoulders! It’s a name that I’m proud to wear, win or lose, because at the end of the day, I expect EVERYONE to bow down to my supremacy and say “Yeah, he’s definitely king around here!” You, the unfortunate victim, are about to suffer not just the biggest defeat in your entire career, but I promise you, you’re going to lose that title and if I’m not in a generous mood at all at Chaos In Cape Town, your career will be over permanently! See, you asked for this match awhile back, so the only one that should be taking responsibility for both your future loss and the Roulette championship title is YOU. YOU, Andrew Garcia, the sole pupil of that other worthless ant, Casey Williams. Another failure, another cockroach that obviously got stomped out and was forced to make a quick retirement from the game. I expect that you will handing me over that title shortly, because I’m the only one, around here, that’s fit to wear that belt around his waist and all you’ve been doing is holding it and shining it up really nice for me to wear. You’re nothing but a placeholder, a “key holder”, so to speak. Your job is to get your ass kicked all over Chaps In Cape Town and and give me my belt. After all, IT IS MY BELT! And you won’t be in such a lucky position to wear that title EVER AGAIN!
See, knowing how stupid and predictable you are going to be, you’re going throw at me this little fact; that you beat Brother Grimm for the title and I didn’t. That fact, as I said recently, is irrelevant and no longer matters! Just because you’ve beaten one guy for one belt...is that supposed to be such a massive accomplishment in your soon-to-be short career as a champion thus far? Let’s get something straight, nobody is that impressed with that feat. Anyone, Andrew Garcia, can simply roll into town, challenge some old-timer for a belt, and if you’re lucky enough (like how you were, by the way), you would win the title. Sure, it helps to boost your credentials in a positive light, but let’s not kid ourselves here. Do we, as in really me, see you as someone worthy enough of challenging Simon Jones or whoever the Heavyweight champion is at that time? No! Even more importantly, can we see you beat them for the Heavyweight championship? I doubt it! See, for all your small improvements around here, Andrew Garcia, I doubt it will amount to much. I’m sure that it’s been a dream of yours, just like anyone else; to climb on top of that mountain and to stay there for all eternity. But as you’re going to find out, first hand, title reigns do not last long around here. Few are lucky enough to escape one battle after the next with win after win after win and somehow stay there until someone that’s better than them finishes them off. I’ve yet to see a gentleman or a lady, for that matter, hold on to their respective belts for a long time and then lose it. Why should it be any different with you, a joke, a peon, a nobody that doesn’t belong here? I can safely guarantee you this; the only way you’re making out of our match alive is by either luck or with some help from your allies within the Hot Stuff International stable. Make no mistake about it; neither aspect will be enough to save you. This match is going to be both dangerous and brutal and although I’ve witnessed your work personally, it does little to impress me enough to respect you. You’re not an exciting prospect around here, to tell you the truth. In fact, since I mentioned Hot Stuff International, I honestly don’t understand what in the fucking hell Mark Ward even sees in you. Didn’t the “almighty” Casey Williams tell you the time that he challenged Mark Ward and was rewarded with an ass-kicking of a lifetime? Maybe when I strip you of the title at Chaos In Cape Town, that’s when Mark Ward will see things truly different about you and relieve you of your status within the group. Because quite frankly, Andrew, you’re just like any other fighter I’ve encountered in my career, whether it’s been in the underground world of fighting or in the world of professional wrestling; you do your best, you stick by your worthless gimmick, and you’re either a success or not. For the time, you are admittedly successful, but only in the rarest moments, when you’re actually able to demonstrate flashes of skill and luck. This time, however, I’m about to destroy everything that Andrew Garcia represents and bring back the title; the Roulette title!
Ah yes, the Roulette title. Even if I have to play second fiddle to the SCW Heavyweight championship, I don’t mind holding back a title that should have stayed with me. Max Burke, unfortunately, wrested away my title awhile back and even defended it successfully. Now that he’s no longer champion, I don’t have to worry about him. All I have to worry about is you, Andrew Garcia. See, I’ll give you a little bit of credit; no matter what people like me do to you, you’re able to never quit or give up. I’ll grant you that, but that’s going to end now. How will it feel, Andrew, when I take away the one title that means everything to you? I know that’s going to be one heart-to-heart conversation you’re going to have with your “mentor” when it comes to that deep, insightful question. Trust me when I tell you, you’re going to feel deathly afraid because I’m the one man, on this planet, that has the power to either let you keep the title or have it be gone within seconds before your very eyes could blink! So, really, I’m not that completely worried about you, because you’re going to be an easy challenge. You’ll give it everything you have against me, Andrew. You’re going to maybe break a few of my bones, maybe bust me open, maybe hit me with multiple chair shots. You’re going to do whatever it takes to make sure that you escape with both the win and the title still around your waist. I know that’s how you function and I won’t be surprised when you resort to cheap tactics. Is there any nobility or honor in that plan of yours, “honorable warrior?” And if that all that fails, you’re going to probably “Orange Hulk” up and beat me easily with one or two slams with your “Orange Fists”, aren’t you? Don’t make me laugh, Andrew! I’m not going to underestimate you by any means, but that still doesn’t mean that you’re going to make me work hard as much for the Roulette title. Truth is, the only hard part about all of this is the fact that this match is contested under Roulette rules, which means that any match can be given to the both of us and we have to deal with the rewards and consequences of it. Other than that, Andrew, this is going to be obviously a painstakingly easy effort to wrest the belt away from you, like taking candy from a BABY! It’s that simple, Andrew Garcia. You want to stand there, act so tough and mighty, acting like nothing in the world can stop you, but when you do confront reality, reality is going to hit you like a ton of bricks and the only thing left staring you in the face, other than the lights, is the truth. Truth is, you’re not as good as you think you are. Truth is, your time with the belt will be completely forgotten. Truth is, maybe this gig as a whole isn’t as good as you believe it to be in the end. It’s time for you to go back to the drawing board and come up with a better plan than this, because I am not going to stand by any longer and watch as you continue to be the Roulette champion around here. It is my job, not to mention my destiny, to create a new era of supremacy and greatness that no one, including and/or especially you, would ever be able to duplicate! You can try to do anything it takes to knock me out of the game, Andrew Garcia, but you’re going to hate me, because I’m going to continue getting back up, grit my teeth with rage, and pummel your worthless hide into submission until the job is finally complete, the belt being around my waist, and you given NOTHING rewarding or satisfying with the exception of a beating you so richly deserved to have for months now. No belt to cling onto, no clean win or submission to gain over me, just the cruel reality that a man like me can kick your ass in any given day of the week and leave you hurting like the little bitch that you are!
Now, all that being said, Andrew Garcia, I want you to give it everything you have against me. I want to feel every punch, every kick, every move, whether it be a submission or a grappling move. I want to experience the rage and pain that’s Andrew Garcia at your best. This is your last chance to make one hell of an impression on me, a way to redeem yourself if that’s even remotely possible. After that, there is no going back. There are no excuses, no doubts, just the cold-hard truth staring at you and me in the face! Because as far as I’m concerned, Andrew, I’m going to do everything and anything within my power to ruin your dream and cut your journey short! So continue to taunt me from a distance, Andrew Garcia! Do you REALLY think you can take me on with all your heart and soul? That’s fine by me, go right ahead! But understand the one, fundamental difference between you and me, one of the many reasons why this match at Chaos At Cape Town will be your total downfall….you put yourself in a position where you challenge me, a challenge I have accepted from a man who offers little to no talent and has to ride on the cocktails of Mark Ward just to get somewhere in life! I, on the other hand, have never stayed in a stable for so long (in fact, I only joined one side, but it was over in a flash before you know it) and have always stayed true to the side that I always count on and that’s mine! Another difference, I suppose, is the fact that you don’t have the balls to say and do what you please because you are nothing more but a cowardly little bastard that seeks approval from his mentor or his boss to get somewhere else in life. Me? I say what I want, do what I want, and can kick anyone’s ass without a second thought! I abide no rules and I play the game that favors my odds all the time. That’s what makes me so dangerous, Andrew Garcia. I’m alone in all of this and a man that has nothing to lose, at this point in time, is a man that cannot be defeated so easily. You have placed restrictions upon yourself whereas I broke those chains the moment I started fighting all those years ago. All your heart and soul will do nothing to contain the growing fire that’s within me. For all your “Orange Hulk” BS, you certainly don’t want to see this animal pissed off. Unfortunately for you, you crossed that line. You asked for this match, Andrew Garcia, and in doing so, the only blame that’s to be given around here is to yourself. I accepted this match because it’s simply a matter of proving who the better man is, but all you did, you worthless tool, is provided me an opportunit of a lifetime. That opportunity, Andrew Garcia, is to become the second-time Roulette champion in my career and I’m going to kill two birds with one stone at Chaos In Cape Town! I highly suggest you take every precious moment, from here on out, to cling onto that title of yours, because I’m coming to get it and there’s not a place on Earth that you can hide from me!
For I am Kain...The King Of Kings! And I…HAVE SPOKEN!
