Post by COREY BLACK on Oct 21, 2023 19:42:02 GMT -5
"The funny thing about Corey Black, ya see, is that I'm hyper aware. I feel the air get sucked out of the room when I walk in. I see the eyes watching me as I make my way through the backstage to the arena. I watch everything I can, I read it all, most of the time before I get into the ring I already have my opponent figured out. That's fine for where I come from. That legacy I built over two decades that was almost pissed all over, yeah, the very same. I'm not cut from the same cloth as most of the wrestlers that will see me compete for the PWA World Championship. I want to believe I am - but that silly fucking thing where I know where I stand and I know how people like Matt Knox feel about me. I'm the weird kid from the corner, right? That guy that could stand with titans but doesn't simply because I am loyal.. to a fault. Y'all bounce from place to place, scene to scene, growing that reputation and here I stand, content to just be me for twenty years. It's unfathomable that in this, the year of whatever God you worship 2023 that a man with my fucking talent level sticks to one company - and yet, somehow, through the short but sweet offshoots I've accumulated through the years, there was just one name that could stand against The Raven and give him the kind of challenge he so fucking dearly requests. COREY. BLACK. No stranger to Knox, no. He came and had fun in my playground; I'm happy to return the favor. That's another thing about me, all you have to do is ask. I'm not going around seeking out heads - well, I take that back, I am seeking one but that's neither here nor there - but I'm not the kind of man to interject myself in something without an invitation. There's a show with an open invite? Congratulations, I don't feel like I belong on your show unless you ask me. Is that insecure? I don't know, maybe, it would be weird for someone like me to feel like I'm butting in on something that would, likely, be happy to have me. But man.. that hyper awareness thing. When you have guys like James Raven and Chris Page going on record as saying outside my bubble - I ain't shit because I'm what, coddled by a dude that thinks I'm fucking washed up and mid? Because I'm unfairly getting shit splashed on me when I'm just doing my goddamned job? Look at the names that have 'escaped' and gone on to become literal household names across the world. Lissie Hope, Johnny Bacchus, Spencer Adams.. those are the names my cloth is cut from. I shaped what made them. I'm not going to ride their names to success - they broke the mold all on their own and are flourishing without me. But I am the architect of that mold. And when you build something, or at least build something that spawned that something, that mold is galvanized. Many have tried, all have failed. Places like Pro Wrestling Valor and Outcast Championship Wrestling have their molds too. It just takes a different breed, doesn't it? Knox, I know you feel the same way the others do, you're pissed off because the result in our first meeting wasn't to your liking and you know what, off the record, I respect that. You're a competitor through and through. I've seen the Tweets. I've seen the promos. From you, from Page, from Raven, shit even from Dickie Watson - it's all ringing through my head every second of every day. When I waks up, when I work out, when I ry to drive to get food at one in the morning, never ending echoes of awful, hurtful, spiteful things simply because I did what was asked of me. I challenged the world and I won. Maybe I owe it to everyone that stepped into my land another shot at immortality. But here? Now? You aren't owed anything. This is, I hope, a clean slate. This is no stigma. I earned this on my own merit, nobody else's. It's how you'd want it. It's how I demand it." The roar of American Muscle echoes throughout the dark night sky, clouds in the distance but where we are it's clear, every star in the sky seems to be shining just a little brighter as a sleek black early 1970s Chevy Nova slides around a dirt corner toward a city skyline just on the horizon. Dust, gravel and muck flies backward from the tires as inside, Corey Black downshifts and slams his foot to the floor, reaching over and turning the radio up to sound level eighteen, the sweet jams of Led Zeppelin filling the car with rhythm. The inside of the car is seemingly fully modernized with a screen in the dash, trim lights all the way around. The reflection off the chrome from the air intakes sticking out from the hood and catching the moon at just the right angle illuminates Corey's face as he smiles and hammers down the gas pedal. Faster.. faster.. shifting up, gas down, the speedometer is basically pegging now at 120, the digital display clocks in at 134.. Corey begins yelling. Nothing in particular, just a painful sound coming from the depths of his soul. He's competing with the sound of the car and inside? He's winning. Suddenly he slams it into neutral and steps hard on the brakes, the wheels lock but he's on a back dirt road so stopping isn't exactly fast. He slides, the car slowly turning sideways as it skids to a complete stop, right there in the middle of an intersection of gravel roads. He's shaking. Hand trembling, Corey takes the key out of the ignition and puts it in the pocket of the black hoodie he is wearing. It's dead silent now. Just the ticking of the engine as it's coming down and Corey's breathing that matches. He gets out of the car, taking a few steps in the direction he was headed and surveys what lies before him.. .. a road closed sign. Beyond that, the beginnings of a bridge that goes about twenty feet before the jagged concrete and asphalt turns to nothing but air, below a deep chasm leading to a river. "I am mentally unstable, that much I know. You have to be to do the things I do. And you have to be accepting of the fact that people won't understand it - yet they'll do anything they can to try to take it from you. You believed you knew me a year and a half ago, Knox. You saw some fucking guy with a crown and thought to yourself 'yeah, I should probably show him what's what.' And you did. Now the King is dead. Yet, it wasn't by your hand. No, Raze and Ruin you merely had a small part to play in the removal of my crown. Whatever miniscule role is appreciated, though, as in the wake of my halcyon years a new, far more fearsome entity has grown. My reputation as a competitor proceeds me as the whispers of Deathproof scatter across the land. The only thing you're scattering nowadays, Knox, is your seed. I had hoped we'd be kindred spirits but it would appear as if your forays into the bedroom far surpass those of the ring. I have something to prove, you have pride. Your children, your harem, your ego - it's all a circle of your own destruction. I don't have to tell you that, no, I just want to make goddamned sure I'm getting Matthew 'The Raven' Knox on Halloween, spitting hymns of death and destruction - and not just a dried up, dehydrated husk of a man. It is a dire time for me, Matt. We've been well to keep our stupid games on the mat, outside the confines of competition we're - I don't know if I'd say 'buddies' but there's seemingly no true animosity to be had like you and I both do with others. You have your path, I have mine and now that they have crossed again, the world will quake. For you, this may be just another run of the mill contest for a championship. As run of the mill as a random handicap is, anyway. But for me, Matt? God, it's so much more. Beyond you and beyond titles and beyond everything is that chatter in the back of my head. That fucking voice that sounds like you and the others. Telling me over and over that I haven't earned anything. It was all given. Gifted on a golden platter. The blood I've spilled across the globe is all for naught because my Twitter follower number isn't as high as it should be for someone that lays claim to all that I do. You are, without a shadow of a doubt, one of the best Knox and when you're on your knees begging me for mercy it will be my pleasure to fucking deny you. It isn't malice, it's vindication. My fight is violence, Knox. I don't have relationship drama. I don't live a lifestyle that includes starring in movies or going on tour with a band or owning football leagues and teams - none of that interests me the way competing inside a professional wrestling ring does. I've been sponsored before by a company and that's as far as it goes. No shoe deals, no clothing line.. what you see is what you get with me. And what you get is far more than anyone can chew." The cliffside is vast, stretching for what looks like miles. Corey looks over the edge of the bridge, contemplative. He closes his eyes and envisions what it would be to just.. go. All the lives impacted, good or bad, race through his mind. His eyes open and he kicks a nearby rock over the edge. It plummets but moments pass before a splash. It's a long - LONG way down. Even that black car wouldn't be seen for days. Maybe that's the point. "It wasn't supposed to be this way, you know. I was supposed to retire years ago. Not like you, Knox, leaving for that whole three month window and valiantly returning. No, I was supposed to be done. Settled down, wife and kids, big house, able to walk and play. Look at me now - hell, look as US now, Matt. By the time we're through we'll have one good hip between us. Maybe half a back if we're lucky. The battles we've had and we'll continue until we can't.. man. You seek it, I acknowledge it. A fine difference. You are caught up in making people think you're the best, man. The rigmarole of fighting here, there, everywhere and for what? Clout? Alright dude, that's fine. I'm after it too but our philosophies vastly differ from one another. You came to my yard to take what was mine. You walked up to my front door and tried to burn my home down simply because you wanted that feather in your cap. You wanted my head on your wall, my hide as a rug. I just want ya to say my name, Knox. Same as almost everyone else I am in there with. Earn your respect, earn the respect of everyone else, bash ya face in a little bit. I don't need your blood on my hands the way I desperately want the blood of others, if it comes to it then so be it, I have no problems with that either. I wanted to fucking kill Jay Price. But Jay Price crossed me. And then I strung his ass up and let him bleed. That ain't our fight. This isn't destroy a man for the jollies of it. You thought it was, possibly, but I'll set the tone now and tell you man to man - win, lose or draw, if we come out of this and you can tell the world that I belong - that's a W for me. That's why I'm here, fighting. I'm not going to throw the PWA World Championship down if I win, no, I'll hold it and I'll defend it because to get it I had to go through Matthew fucking Knox, a man I respect and hold in higher regard than most. Almost felt dirty to day. If you want to end me, you want to be the guy that does the impossible, boy I suggest you load up a stretch limo full of your offspring and come try. You don't have an army big enough. You'll need every last brother, sister, friend, acquaintance, booty call or otherwise. I'm fuckin' sick in the head, dude. It ain't a malevolent force anymore it's just me being me. You're jet setting on beaches and drinking mimosas. The last vacation I went on - I ended up locked in a cell and fighting for my life. You remember. I live for the final chapter and hope it comes fast. There's no days off for me, Knox. My name on the card means someone's leaving with their block knocked off. Theirs or mine. That's what it takes. You better be ready to do the fuckin' thing, that nickname of mine isn't a fancy merch seller. No sir, in order to beat me you're going to have to kill me. But I'm fuckin' Deathproof. The spirit of vengence. A gift and a curse." A gentle breeze ruffles Corey's hood and a little bit of hair falls out, swaying with the wind and his beard. He takes a step toward the edge and as soon as his foot gets level his phone goes off in the car. A simple tone, but a recognizable one. The clouds in the distance have come ever closer, nearly blotting out the stars and the city skyline. Corey breathes in deep and turns, exhaling and walking back to his car where he grabs his phone. It's a text message. T 12:54am Surprise! I'll be there soon! Corey falls back into his seat. His arms drop, his eyes close. His right hand slowly goes into his hoodie pocket and he retrieves his keys. The car is started, again with a roar, lights are on and Corey looks ahead with steering wheel gripped tight. White knuckle shit, he is staring at the broken bridge like it's the last thing he'll ever see. Yet, he turns and loosens his grip on the wheel slightly. Heading more cautiously the way he came. "All I fucking do is overcome adversity, Knox. You might not believe it, but it takes a strong will to be who I am. You put on a face to care but deep down, you and I both know it's you and your family and everyone else can go sit on a stick for what it's worth. I don't have family. I don't know what it's like. Anyone I ever loved has died or put a knife in my back. There ain't no Oscar worthy film here. Renée Zellweger and Matthew McConaughey won't star in my biopic. It's just terrible thing after terrible thing and the redeeming qualities I thought were just figments of my imagination. I don't tell you that to make you feel bad for me, I say that because I want you to truly know the man I am. Past this King stuff, past the deathmatches and Action Wrestling and all that. Sometimes we forget that the people that stand in the way of the things we want are people to. And in this line of work, people are just obstacles. Things we must overcome to better our own position. This is all I have ever known, Knox. A disgusting cycle of pain, violence, feigned friendship and treachery. Honestly it would be too much for someone else. Anyone else. I go home to an empty house to get myself ready for my next fight. I have three students that I am in the process of training, they pay me and I show them how to wrestle. They don't want me to come to their birthday parties. I have.. a situation. I've had a situation. It's hard to talk about. She's there for me.. most of the time. Otherwise no family, all dead. No friends, all bastards. I have the respect of people that knew me and they still decided to go. Far from where I am, not so much as a snarky Tweet every other week. This is where I'd tell you I don't want it any other way. But I'm not going to sit here and lie to your face. Who the fuck am I if I don't have my word? I fight to feel, Knox. That's why when barbed wire and thumb tacks are added it gets me excited. If gives me that dopamine shot, that adrenaline you might get from banging some whore from the bar. I'm a fucking fiend, Matthew, a chewed up and thrown away vagabond that thought he had it all. When in reality I was just another fucking head on a pole for fake motherfuckers with a whole different agenda. I want what I should have. These are supposed to be our best years. Too far in to quit, too far from retirement to play fast and loose. The sweet spot where we have all the tools to beat anyone in the world no matter the circumstances. One arm tied behind the back, no rope breaks, bucket on the head, chainsaw attached to the leg - Franklin's Demise. I'll put you down right in front of your family if I have to." The 70s Nova is now in a small town, no stoplights and the streets are mostly dark. Corey is taking his time getting through the town before pulling to the right into a slanted parking spot in front of a neon sign lit diner. It's long, longer than it is wide, white, bright pink and yellow sign reads Hooper's. Corey turns the engine of his car off and steps out, a pickup window on the side seems to allow outside orders. On this balmy October night, it's just cold enough to need an extra layer of clothing but not bad enough to not sit and enjoy the night air. Black walks up to the counter and nods to the woman taking orders, she nods back with a smile and writes on her order pad before sending it back to the kitchen. The outside area isn't lit the best but Corey finds himself at a table. He checks his phone, 1:22am. No more texts. He sighs deeply as a familiar set of hands grab his left shoulder with a squeeze. "Sorry I'm late.." she says. Little does she know, she was just in time. "I am trying to find an end, Knox. Which is wild because you're trying to cement your new beginning. And, really, I guess I'm trying to do the same - but as long as I'm here, for as long as I can remember, I have been longing for the sweet release. My perfect ending is the wrestling world at large giving that recognition just as someone has it in them to make it so I could never compete again. That's what it'll take to make me stop, I fear. I can't just walk away. You could. For a time. The itch grew and grew.. I know that's what it'll be for me. I could call it all off, retire, nobody would bat an eye. 'Ok Corey' they'd say. They'd be right. It's this internal battle that's been raging for years and just amplified recently. I want nothing more than to fade to obscurity and yet I pine for the acceptance of those beyond my home. Is that fuckin' crazy or what? What a goddamn predicament to be in. Oh well, better grab a machete and cut some dude's fingers off, am I right? It's lunacy. Lunacy that I'm so fucking aware of that it makes me want nothing more than to splatter my own brains across the mat but I have too much honor for that so I'll spray someone else's spinal fluid instead until I come across that one motherfucker that can do it to me. The duality of who I am, Matthew. You thought you knew. Everyone thought they knew. Now ya do. What you do with the information is up to you, but for me? I'm just going to lean into it and try to keep my own head above water. Stepping on others to keep myself afloat. Having an existential crisis while simultaneously yearning for approval. You know. Corey Black shit. So I'll do what I do best, Knox, and I hope you reciprocate. We'll go out there, we'll make the PWA World Championship mean something. As brutal as the match gets, the intentions aren't to maim - until you make me. Know when to quit. I sure as fuck don't." |