Continue To Climb Nov 25, 2018 23:05:31 GMT
Post by jtsaint on Nov 25, 2018 23:05:31 GMT
⚜️ CONTINUE THE CLIMB ⚜️
|[PROLOGE – AUGUST 11, 2018 – BUDOKAN HALL, TOKYO JAPAN – SEATTLE PRO WRESTLING]|
My career had come to this single moment, the moment where I showed the world who I was. Standing atop the turnbuckle, grabbing tightly upon Ryan Henderson’s body, I had to take a chance, and I had to take this chance. I bend my knees and driving down onto the top pad with all my might, hoisting Henderson through the air. The wind raced past my ears as my target comes into view as I flip through the air. A wooden table, as I fall I adjust Ryan’s body, so it is the first to make contact with the wood as it splinters into many pieces.
For a moment I thought that I might have gone unconscious as the world goes dark, for a moment the silence and darkness. The only thoughts racing across my mind is I had to get back to reality so that I can defend my WTC World Television Championship, but a death curdling scream from a woman in the crowd, and the lights flashing back on tells me that the lights must have gone out. I look up to see what has changed, rising to my hands and knees.
The sound echoed through my brain as the pain of metal colliding with flesh is sent up my spine. I didn’t have a moment to think who could be doing this before I am dragged up to my feet — the feeling of rough, dry hands on my face as I’m pulled up into the air. I felt a rush in my stomach as the world spins around me, a sudden stop and then all I saw is steel. I didn’t have enough time to react as I went face first into the steel chair. The smell and taste of blood was almost instantaneous as the world around me begins to spin and fade. I was conscious enough to know I had to fight back. I tried to move, but my body wouldn’t let me, pain surging through every limb.
Suddenly I felt something cold on my leg. I was able to raise my head to see the steel chair wrapped around my knee. I look up and see a large man, a sadistic look on his face, the thirst of carnage and blood in his, a murmur is all that is left from the crowd. I watch on as the monster climbs onto the apron, falling and crashing onto the steel chair.
Instant of pain arches through my leg and into my spine. It was at that moment I knew that something was wrong. I tried to crawl away, but the moment any weight was put onto my knee, my leg gave way. The musky stench of sweat and blood fills my longs as the monster pulls me back to my feet, he lifts me into the air, and I can see the awe and shock on all of their faces — the next moment the world went black.
⚜️ CONTINUE THE CLIMB ⚜️
|[CHAPTER I – NOVEMBER 11, 2018 – CHICAGO, ILLINOIS]|
|I place my left foot in place, followed by my right. The long scar on the front of my knee pale against my tan skin. It had been three months since that fateful day, the day I lost my title, I lost my career, and I lost my true love. At least, so I thought, the agonizing pain my knee had felt was unexplainable, even though the doctor tried to explain it to me. “Do you feel a pinching sensation?” He had asked me. It took everything I had to scream “NO!” and deck the bitch in the mouth. |
But here I am, exactly ninety-two days later, trying to do what many thought would take me almost six months, and that gets back into the ring. I bend over and grab the bar that rest by my shins, wrapping my fingers around the cold steel I begin to lift. My knee tightens as I begin to drive into the floor with my knees, dead lifting the weight, resting it on my hips before flinging it high over my head. Just as quickly as I lifted the weight, I throw it down to the floor — cheers and claps behind me as I turn around and let out an animalistic howl.
“Let’s FUCKING GO!” I scream looking back at my trainers and physical therapist. Standing behind all of them was the one man that really mattered, my uncle Henry Saint. He gives me a nod of approval as the rest of the group give me their congratulations. I turn around and look at myself in the mirror. My reflection was what would tell me the true outcome. I was bigger than when I left the ring. I took my time away from the ring to strengthen my upper body, and once I was able my lower body. I had put on about twenty pounds of muscle over the past couple months.
“It’s seems that all of your hard work is finally paying off.” My physical therapist, Katie, walks up behind me and places her hand on my shoulder.
I knew it had, I had way too much to prove, way too much to fight for. Perhaps others lost faith in me, and my ability to fight for this sport I love, but I didn’t
“Yeah, it has. Thank you so much.” I said, looking over my shoulder at her thin delicate facial features. Her figure was petite, but not because of her lack of exercise, the exact opposite. She was five feet of pure muscle, one reason why I had hired her…she was the best.
Well, I guess that is something that is thrown around a lot, the best. Just the finality of it is a complete joke. Nobody can really be the best at anything, but you can strive to be. That’s what men like Creed and Eli Buchanan have against them. They have bought into the fallacy that they are the best, because they were able to capitalize in my absence.
The television on the other side of the room draws my attention, on it was a photograph of Eli Buchanan, my WTC Destiny Crown over his shoulder. “Mr. Buchanan made waves in the pro-wrestling industry this week, as he defended the WTC Destiny Crown Championship for a record seventh time in two months. More than any in the company’s history. Breaking the inaugural champion, JT Saint’s previous record of three. Mr. Saint looks to make a return to the ring later this month for Guerreros Of Lucha. The former champion tore his …” The voice begins to fade into the same murmured pity I had been hearing for three months.
Sometimes I feel like people kind of hoped that I packed up and went home. After I lost my WTC title and had to forfeit the IWS World Championship, I had nothing left. I was on top of the world. The top of the food chain looking down at the rest of the world like the miserable beings they are.
I look up and notice everyone had begun to pack up. “Are you coming to JT?” said one of my trainers.
“Nah, I think I’m going to do a few more sets before I call it a day,” I responded, with a motion of his hand he left, and like that I was alone.
It’s no secret that this place, Henry’s Gym, was like a second home to me. Everything I ever cherished in life I can trace back to this place. I look around at all the great boxers and MMA fighters that filled the wall with fight promotion posters. All I had ever wanted in the world was join them on this wall, now all I want to do is prove that I belong there. I need to continue to climb, all the way to my thrown on the mountaintop.
⚜️ CONTINUE THE CLIMB ⚜️
|[CHAPTER II – NOVEMBER 14, 2018 – SOMEWHERE IN THE AIR]|
“Sir, do you need anything at all? You haven’t asked for a thing since we took off!”
Leaning back in the leather-backed chair, I look out the small window that lines the side of the airplane and let out a deep sigh. I only have about one hour until we land at Chicago O’Hare. Holding my iPad in one hand I pull down the blinds to eliminate the glare from the screen and smile at the flight attendant, before gesturing to her that I am fine. These long flights where always a welcome place in my life, the only time in my day that I truly can get away from the rest of the world. No reporters or interviews. Just me and some small level of peace to myself. It gave me time to reflect on my past and my future, to analyze what mistakes I have made in my career and what I needed to do to fight on.
Closing my eyes, images of all of the recent events of my life pass through my mind like the Indy 500. From my injury to my resigning and partnership growth in WTC and IWS things have been happening way to fast. Almost to the point that I have had a hard time to digest it. Still, there had to be a game plan to stick to…my climb to the top of this industry must continue.
Then there was this ongoing game of cat and mouse between Buchanan and me, one that has become a curse upon my soul. I wonder, I have never stepped across the squared circle with his alter ego Tiger Mask Red, but I have taken it to the extreme. I competed on the regular with Death Trip Wrestling, I have felt barbed wire rip my skin from my bones, the smell of burning flesh filling my lungs I have encountered it all. And there is nothing that he can through at me that I can’t deal with. For months he has been holding onto my championship, and finally, I get my hands on him to send a message.
Buchanan is a piece of shit, a curse on the industry. I was none of those things. When I began in this business, there were multiple champions, each one claiming that they were the best in the world. That their championship was the top of the food chain, that is when I came around. When I won the WTC World Television Championship and made it what it is today. I paved the way for men like Tiger Mask Red and his bitch of an alter ego. I lined champions that made that claim up, and one by one shot them all down. I showed the world that the Champion of Champions resides with WTC
What has Tiger Mask Red done for the sport? What gives him the right to think that he is in my damn league? He pulled off the impossible and captured the hearts of the fans when he stole my WTC Title a few months ago. Bravo, you were able to become a Hall of Famer in a company that has hosted less than 20 shows. Let’s give it up for the Mask! Okay, now let’s return to reality, a reality where I will soon win back the championship that I wrongfully lost. He is hardly the complete package that he portrays himself to be. He is no different than the rest of the monkeys in the locker room.
Victims. All of them.
No way that any of them understand the level of which I can perform at. This entire situation between Buchanan and me as well as his alter ego Tiger Mask Red, has grown much larger that it should have been allowed. And if it weren’t for my injury, this would have never happened. I would have put this entire story to rest already. Instead I have to go to Guerreros of Lucha to end this once and for all. To send a message to the rest of the world that I am back and ready to send a message to anyone and everyone.
But then what? What happens once I move on from this chapter of my life.
A grey thick cloud rolls over the wing of the plane as questions circle my mind. It has been months since I last competed, and I have the world ahead of me. I need to build a legacy, and it starts at Chapter De Diecisiete: Shake Your Tits Its GOL! I need this victory to set the tone of my return, to show the world that above it all I am still the King of this Industry, the GOD of Wrestling. Was I ready to sacrifice all of this for a small message I could send over time? Could I finally put the monsters behind me and move on to greener pastures?
That was a question that I was not ready to answer. Not yet anyway. There was still Buchanan and his retched mask. There was still my redemption. Knowing that our match was scheduled to be a death match only drew the anticipation forward even more. Here’s a fun fact. I have lost on ONE death match in my entire career — a single match. And the fact that Tiger Mask Red feels like he has the advantage in that ring is amusing to me.
As I said, he is a jackass.
The plane rumbles a bit due to turbulence as I return to the present. Grabbing the glass of Jack Daniels and Coke and taking a big swig. I can hear footsteps behind me and that when I see my Uncle Henry Saint come up to my side. He looks at the chair across from me.
“This seat taken?” He asked.
I put down the iPad to my side and motion for him to take a seat. “What brings you up here?” I ask, knowing that he will probably want to talk strategy before we land.
“Well, I was wondering if you were thinking about this upcoming match? I am worried about what kind of…”
“Worried?” I asked, cutting off his sentence. “There is no need to worry. I have been preparing for this match for months.”
“No, you have been preparing for a match, not this match. Haven’t you seen the type of things that Tiger Mask Red has done? Eli Buchanan no longer exists when that mask goes on. He is a whole new beast, he is dangerous. He is…”
I hold back the urge to argue with him, looking out the window as he continues to speak, his voice soothing. He talks about how this match is going to be unlike any other that I have been in, that I am a fool for excepting it so early into my return, that I could get hurt, and this time it could end my career.
He wasn’t saying anything that I hadn’t thought myself, but I knew I needed to do something. I needed to prove to not only myself but to her, Lillian. For months she had been my rock, the woman that I knew I could rely on for everything. But for some reason the injury caused me to lash out on her. And just as quickly had she come into my life, she left. But I knew that I had to show her how much I have grown, and by taking these matches, maybe it will show her that I had finally put my demons behind me, and she would come back to me.
I clear my throat and look over at Uncle Henry, who must have just stopped speaking because he was looking at me as if he wanted an answer to some important question. “I agree,” I say casually trying to convince him I had been listening to his warnings.
“So, you will pull out of the match?” He asked.
He wanted me to quit? That shocked me as I polish of the glass and rise to my feet to refill the glass at the sink. “No,” I say calmly. I knew he wasn’t going to like that, but he knew that I would never walk away from something. He taught me that.
I open the cupboard and grab out the Jack Daniels as he tries to reason with me. “What do you mean no? You just agreed with me. This match is too dangerous and risky to take on so early from your surgery.”
He wasn’t wrong. I thought to pour the brown whiskey into the glass. I reach down and grab a single ice cube and drop it in. He normally was right, especially when it came to training. I mean the man has done it for forty years. But I had to do this, and I knew he would never understand, but I had to try to show him.
“I have to do this Henry. Wrestling is all I have, the way I feel when I am in that ring it is all that keeps me sane, do you understand that? I need to be in that ring just as much as my body needs water. I can’t go back to playing it safe in high school gyms. I have to risk it all to leave my name in this business. And to do this I need to compete in matches like this, against men like Tiger Mask Red, in places like Guerreros of Lucha. I have too.” I said, looking into his eyes, their deep blue color trying to read what thoughts were racing through his old brain.
“I know, and if you weren’t my nephew, I would tell you the same thing. But that attack, what he did to you it changed the way I saw you. I had told myself so long to treat you like any other client, but at that moment, I realized that you weren’t and no matter how hard I tried I wouldn’t be able to protect you.” I tear began to run down his face.
I had never seen Uncle Henry cry before, though the nurses told me he did at my bedside in the hospital after my injury. They all thought it was much worse than it ended up being, he included. “You can’t always protect me, and I have never expected you to,” I said, knowing that this is the most emotional that we have been to one another. After all these years we have tried to keep it so professional only for it all to come crashing in at once.
He wipes away a tear as I sit down across from him, “I know. And if I can’t change your mind, I need to prepare you for this match, so I don’t ever have to see something like that again. Grab your tablet. We have some studying to do.”
⚜️ CONTINUE THE CLIMB ⚜️
|[CHAPTER II – NOVEMBER 14, 2018 – SOMEWHERE IN THE AIR]|
A cloud of dust kicks up into the air as I push open the steel door. I had avoided this room since my injury, but I knew that now was as good as time as any to look back inside. Too many accomplishments are something cherished, but to me, they are just another lesson waiting to happen. Because unlike many I don’t see championships like the end goal, but the beginning.
I take a step forward through the threshold into the room. I run my fingers across the shelves, each one holding a different championship, different award. The dust particles collect on the tips of my fingers as I wipe off the IWS World Championship that was gifted to me in recognition of the championship victory all those months ago. My first title, but it was the title that had always interested me, it was the defense that did. The idea of having a target on my back, being the man to beat, it was intoxicating. Because even when you think you reach the peak, you must continue to climb to be remembered.
I take a deep breath in, only to sneeze. The loud noise echoed. If I am honest, I never thought I would be back here, let alone bring a camera crew in her with me. But I knew that for my point, my message for the future to be accepted, I have to show them all my past.
“Here we are Mr. Buchanan. I guess my true opponent is Tiger Mask Red, the sadistically demon that you have tried so long to suppress. Only to see that it is the only side of you that people care about, the only side they remember. A storm is brewing in the labyrinth, and you are about to fall victim to everyone that has come before you. It is not because of your lack of skill, and not because of your lack of confidence. You have enough of both to spare. What will cause your downfall is your thirst.” I paused momentarily. Gathering my thoughts and my breath before I continue.
I look up at a single championship in a room full of many belts and trophies. I reach up and unclasp its buckles and pulled down the WTC World Television Championship. Its golden surface rough and scratched. This championship had traveled with me for over 100 days. It had seen me victorious aplenty, and now it is the only commonality between Tiger Mask Red and myself. I run my finger along the reliefs in the belt face each curve a reminder of where I had come from, of what I had built.
“I have felt what it is like to hoist that twenty pounds of metal into the air, proudly exclaim that I AM THE KING OF KINGS! But that was why I failed. It was this thirst for power that I could never quench that saw me fail. It was the never-ending thirst for success that leads me to fail…it was the fact that I was afraid of what comes next, of what came after I was dethroned, what happens after the inevitable. Because TGR, everyone loses. But that is all in the past. I look forward to what I can bring to people around me. You see me as the man that has had his opportunity, has had his chances. But Mr. Buchanan, you can hide behind a mask, but I will do what I wasn’t able to before, and that is put an end to you. That championship, that company, and now this match is the only thing that is common between us. And soon, I will be able to put you into the rearview and move on with my life. Never to look back but to look forward, to continue to climb towards greatness. And most of all never be satisfied.” I through the championship into a chair across the room.
I sit down across from it, the metal gleaming from the sunlight through the window. “This industry has been turned upside down, and it has witnessed wrong men crowned as champions. Companies folding, only to open months later. The locker room has become entitled. They have forgotten how it felt to be hunted. There was once a time that progression in the ranks meant something. Any achievement was big. No matter the company that it was earned in. But now there is nothing but this bull shit of acting tough in the face of fear. It’s okay to admit being afraid. I am afraid of what will happen in that ring with you. But that doesn’t stop me from pulling up my bootstraps, stepping in that ring and slapping that rotten mask off your god damned face.” I pause a moment, the frustration causing my face and ears to grow red.
“It’s insulting. Not just for me, but to all of those that have come before us. Once before there was one champion. And It is my goal to get us back there. This is why I entered this tournament. Not just to silence all of my doubters, that says I am not good enough to face the legendary Tiger Mask Red, but finally, give the industry a champion on comparable. The true WORLD Champion. And it starts with you. It starts with pinning you down to the mat at Chapter De Diecisiete. Then will go on to winning the IWS World Title, then Winning the Guerreros Of Lucha Rey De Reyes Champion. Then I will go on to reclaim what I never lost justly, something that you have.” I grab the WTC Television Championship and put it back on the shelf and buckle it back in.
“I will become the Rey de Reyes…the King of Kings…The GOD of Wrestling.”