ACF Kills The OCW Universe

[TheDeathDealer]

In that dreamlike state we call living.
We give in to desires of the flesh.
We take without thought, without giving.
until there is nothing left.
We destroy all the land round about us.
We'll destroy the balance of life.
Barren wastes will lie deserted.
Whilst we still cause trouble and strife.
We have no thoughts of the future.
Our childrens legacy, a barren land.
So pollute and destroy, build and bomb.
leave no green land, just atomic sand.
Tear down the trees, concrete it over.
After all, WE won't be around that long.

“LET HIM GO YOU SICK SON OF A B*TCH!!!” Sahara yells at me.

I don’t blame her for shouting and cursing, she’s just acting out of fear, and she should be afraid. I have her and Thad chained together by the ankles. I had brought them to this secluded part of the forest to perform the sacrificial ceremony. They were bonded together through love, and by a child, but now they will be bound together for the short amount of time they have left on this Earth.

I smile at her, blood running from my lips after draining it from Thad’s body for the ceremony. “DON’T F**KING SMILE AT ME, YOU SICK F**K!!!”, she screams.

You talk too much.

Thad and Sahara had both been stripped bare to their rotten flesh for the ceremony. I see how men could find Sahara attractive, but those fake tits didn’t make up for her big mouth. Thad was dizzy from the blow to the head with a large stick, making it impossible for him to fight back, but it’s not as if it mattered if he could have fought back, I am much more of a dominant species than he. With one swift swipe of my blade, I grabbed Thad's member and severed the flaccid flesh from his body.

This brings Thad out of his stupor and he begins to scream in pain. This also draws another screaming session from Sahara. As she opens her mouth I silence her ranting by shoving the severed penis into her mouth and shoving it deeper than Thad ever could. She begins gagging and as I move my hand she vomits out the dead flesh, along with the rest of her stomach contents.

The only sounds she makes now are a combination of sobs and dry heaves. Thad on the other hand is moaning and begging for his life. I look at his now “Ken Doll” body as blood pours from his internal pudendal artery. I watch the blood flow from his body, followed by the life.

THAD!

THAD!

THAD, BABY!

BABY!

“He’s gone”, I say as I place my knife back into my waistband.

I cast my eyes upon the full moon. I don’t need to look at her, I know she is naked, afraid, and mentally and physically broken. I know she is ready to die, so when she says, “go ahead, just go ahead and kill me.”. It comes as no surprise to me.

I turn to her and squat down to give her a better look into my cold, soulless eyes.

I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to leave you for the world because the world is much crueler than I ever could be.

I turn and walk away, leaving her shackled to Thad’s now-dead body. The wolves or the bears would be attracted by the scent of the blood and dying flesh. Sahara has two choices, she can either chew through her own leg like a coyote or be consumed by the world.

My skin is crawlin’ with kerosene
Achin’ and tired, and burning green
My lungs are chokin’ on her breath
I recognize those empty eyes

I feel her bite into my flesh
Those crooked teeth, twisted and clean
The stale horizon on her breath
I’ll burn it down, to the dusty ground

Oh, as the embers fade into the eastern sky
Oh, as the ashes kiss the sun, oh how I’ll rise again

As the law of survival of the fittest had been enacted, everyone had been released into the forest. What they didn’t know when they opened the cage doors to let the zoo animals out, is that the lion was hungry. I had devoured the first couple of OCW, but my stomach was still rumbling. I moved through the dark forest, with the full moon offering the only illumination on this crisp night. In the distance though, I see another light source.

I crouch down and use the brush and trees to conceal myself as I slip closer. Soon I am close enough to see Diana Watts sitting next to the fire warming her bare feet. I should have known it was her, who else would be so idiotic, ill-prepared, and ill-suited for this world?

I pull my knife as I move around her small campsite, preparing to take her back. I’ll slit her throat, bleed her out, and have her roasting open her own campfire before she even knows what happened. I slowly start to stand when I see an object flying from the treetops. I drop back down and see a makeshift arrow slam into the chest of Diana. A death rattle is the only sound she makes, before I hear a “WHOOT WHOOT!”, from the tree top.

I see Alice Knight glide from the treetop and into the darkness. Alice is more formidable a predator than many give her credit for, and the feather of that owl will be a pretty feather in my cap.

I love from the darkness to ensure Watts is finished. I check her neck and find no pulse, but next to her body I do find a spear she had fashioned from a stick and a sharp rock. I suppose Twitter isn't her only weapon of choice after all. I grab the spear and head in the direction I saw Alice glide off to. I’ve spent my life hunting, it started with small animals and evolved over time into hunting men. I’m able to pick up Alice’s tracks, she is sloppy with a haphazard attitude, and it has always been her biggest fault.

As I get closer I begin to see more loose feathers, I know Alice’s feathers are easily ruffled, but this is something more. Soon I see tracks of blood, this hastens my pace. As the blood splatters grow larger I begin to hear the sound of a carnivore consuming its prey, something has stolen my kill. I follow the sounds of tearing flesh and crushing bone until I come upon the scene of what appears to be a massive bear devouring the entrails of Alice Knight.

It is not outside of the realm of possibility that OCW would bring in a wrestling bear for something like this, so now I make the bear my target. I lift the spear and throw it like a javelin. The tip of the spear sinks into the back of the bear, right between the shoulder blades. The bear stands on its hind legs and lets out a scream of pain that is distinctly human. The bear starts reaching for the spear, but his stubby arms cannot reach his back. As the bear turns reaching for the spear I discover it is not a bear at all but is Big Bifford wearing a fur coat.

Biffords beard is covered with blood, and as he turns I can see Alice’s body laying at his feet, her stomach torn open with her guts laying outside of her body. As Bifford is distracted with the spear I charge from the dark with my knife in hand. Bifford sees me and throws a wild punch, but he’s as slow as he is dangerous. I duck the blow and as I bring my knife toward his chest he catches my arm with his other hand. Bifford follows up by smacking me in the face with his massive hand.

The blow is enough to knock me to my back, as I was off balance when he struck me. Bifford stands over me, stalking ever closer. From my back, I kick upward and drive the heel of my boot into his genitals. Through my boot, I can feel his grape-sized testicles crushing under my Doc Martins. Even this mountain of a man can be taken down by a kicked to the most sensitive spot on the male anatomy.

I am quick to my feet, but my knife is lost to the darkness. Same knife, same. I need to act quick as the kick to the groin wont keep Bifford down long. I grab Alice’s small intsestines and wrap them around Biffords fat neck. He tries to stand, but I shove my knee into his back and pull tighter on the guts, cutting off both blood and oxygen to the massive mans brain. I feel Biffords body go limp and what bit of soul he had flee his body. I have slayen the Golliath of OCW. It is shame I will not be able to have his massive carcass stuffed and mounted on my wall.

I take a moment to search for my blade, and am able to find it just as I hear voices in the distance. I have time for a trap, but it has to be quick. I shove my knife into the chest of Biffords body, right at the top of the sternum and slice down. It is more work to slash through the layers of fat than I had expected, and the stench is even worse. I peel his flesh open enough that I am able to slide into his body like a cacun for a warm but slimy hiding spot.

I hear the sound of Mike Zybala and Dylan Thomas’s voices from outside of the body.

“OH MY GAWD!” Thomas screams, followed by the sounds of him dry heaving and vomiting. The vomiting stops and I hear Dylan’s voice.

Mike, what are you doing?

I’ve never seen a pair of tits like this before.

Mike, don’t that is disgusting.

They are just so massive.

Mike, this is bordering on necrophilia.

Look, I’ve always wanted a good view of Bifford’s triple D’s and this is my chance.

I feel the carcass of Bifford being fondled, and decide now is the time to strike. I drive my and from inside the gut of Bifford and plunge my knife into then chest of Zybala. The knife plunges into Zybala’s heart, because this man has a bigger heart for OCW than anyone who has ever have the misfortune of entering OCW.

I watch terror feel Zybala’s eyes as the sees my mask emerging from the chest cavity of Bifford’s body. Zybala’s hands grab my wrist, but my I hold tightly to the knife and shove in deeper with it, while pulling Zybala in closer with my free hand. Once more Zybala falls to me, but he should be used to falling by now.

Over Zybala’s shoulders I lock eyes with Dylan Thomas, and to my surprise he doesn’t run. On the contrary, he readies himself for a fight. Zybala may have the most heart in OCW, but Thomas is a close rival for that title, but also a close rival for the least amount of brains in OCW as well. I release Zybala and the knife, his body falls to a heap at my feet, just as soon everyone's bodies will do.

I lock eyes with Thomas, and though he is putting on a brave face I can see the apprehension in his eyes. Thomas is not sure of himself, he has no lack of confidence and isn’t sure of himself or his skills. Why should he be though? Thomas has been the whipping boy of every Tom, Dick, and Harry to come through OCW in the past few months. He puts upa good fight, but at the end of the day he is nothing more than a gatekeeper.

I hold the keys to gates as well though Thomas. The keys to the cemetery gates, and beyond them the gates to Hell. I believe it is time I unlock those gates and put Dylan Thomas out of his misery. I begin my march toward Thomas, as he readies himself for battle when my eyes fluttered open from the screaming, but it wasn't the screaming of Dylan Thomas, it was of my victim. His IV infusion torture had begun, the burning pain caused by the IV made him feel as if his blood were boiling lava, and caused screams of agony the burlap sack I had over his head couldn't muffle.

I pull myself from my cheer, and subsequently my three-drop acid trip as well. I grabbed the hood and yanked it off the head of my victim.

Who… who the f**k are you?

I run my fingers through his matted hair before grabbing a hand full at the back of his scalp. I pull his face up to meet mine and stare into his eyes. All I can see is fear and anger, and all he can see is hate and condemnation. I grab the bottom of my mask and pull it off, revealing to him for the first time my true identity.

I can see his face contorted with confusion as he does not know my identity. Why would he, he had never seen me before? Never saw me grow up, and he never mentioned me one time, it was always his precious Victor he crowed on and on about.

I shake his head violently and stop only for him to look me in the eyes again.

I am the bastard born of hell. I am the lost child. I am the death dealer. I AM YOUR SON!

SOLOMON CAIN!!!

I watch shock fill his eyes, and he watches hate fill mine.

I only had one son and he is dead. If you are my child, which is possible, because I was quite a whore in my day, I never knew you existed.

BULLSH*T!

He opens his mouth to spew more lows, but before a word can escape his lips my knife escapes its sheaf. With a quick swipe of the blade, his throat opens like his mouth and he blew spews upon my face as his lies were about to spew into my ears.

I am the Death Dealer Solomon Cain, I have come to kill the OCW universe, and I just started with Outcast. Everywhere I have ever been have brought nothing but death and destruction, and OCW will be no different. I may have been here in the past, but that was my weak fleshly body, before I was forged in the fires of hell.

My father loved OCW, and he loved the fans of OCW, so I must destroy it. This place, its championship, his Hall of Fame induction, those are his legacy and he’s greatest loves, so I must kill them. If I have to burn all of Key West, the OCW arena, and the entire roster to the ground to do it, than I gladly will.

I am entering this rumble to erase the name of Christian Cian, by elevating the name of Solomon Cain. I will walk through anyone that gets in my way, rather it be a hall of famer, a new comer, a lower tier champion, of a special guest, no one and nothing will stop my march to the top. I will kill them all, becuase you all already dead and you don’t even know it.

The minute that I entered OCW everyone's lifes ended. Your names were written down in the book of life, but most of you will be nothing but footnotes. The landscape of OCW is changing, and I am molding the new landscape with my bare hands. The Death Dealer, Solomon Cain has come to OCW and the world will never be the same again.