Post by hg on Jul 8, 2006 8:30:30 GMT -5
he scene opens in a small funeral home where a body lies, in a coffin, in the center of the room. A small crowd of people leave the room leaving the body lying alone. A cold breeze fills the room as the bodys last nerves begin to die off with a few final twitches. The eyes seems to be in a constant rhythm, open, shut, open, shut, and that seems to go one for maybe thirty minutes until once again the nerves begins to die down. A man slowly walks into the room; his long trench coat drags the ground as he walks towards the body. With a slight bit of remorse in his eyes he stares down on to the body.
: Poor man, he died a slow, painful, and lonely death. Now he lost the painful and slow part, but he yet has the lonely journey of death that hes about to embark on.
He once again looks down on the body with the sweat from his brow dripping down on to the body. Each drop splashes on to the forehead of the unfortunate bastard, but it seems that this is only the beginning of his pain. The camera tries to get a view of his face, but his black hood only reveals his pitch black eyes. He places a hand on the forehead of the man.
: The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:
He leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul:
He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name' sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: For thou art with me;
Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies;
Thou annointest my head with oil; My cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever.
The twitches begin to slow down as the man places his large hand over the eyes of the body and turns his head to the right.
: May Satan not lay his hands on the tortured soul this body once possessed. For it is now sole property of the lord Jesus Christ.
He turns around as the hood falls off revealing the back of his head. His long black, yet graying, hair flows freely as he walks away from the body leaving it once again alone, waiting to begin his journey into the afterlife. The man walks slowly to the farthest edge of the room and turns swiftly on his left foot. His eyes seem to have a burning stare of remorse and vengeance, but who is this man? His forehead shows signs of age with the ever present wrinkles and now we truly realize who this man is.Hells Guardian. Guardian looks over the sea of chairs that surround the casket and wonders to himself how anyone could stand to take that journey, but of course he realizes that we all go through this one day and secretly he wished that his would come soon enough. He looks over the room taking every possible aspect of the room in and then walks out into brisk winter air of New York City. His breaths heavily as he walk along the street, though as he walks he sees many old homeless people begging for many things. One grabs his leg and looks up at him, but he immediately lets go and crawls out into the street and lies on a manhole cover to try to get some sense of warmth from the occasional steam that rises from it. Guardian looks over at the poor man, but yet he does nothing but sighs and continues his walk. He looks up at the setting sun and watches the days last light shine over the city and then slowly fade away. Guardian looks up as it begins to rain.
Guardian: Well this was the last thing I needed today!
Guardian flips his hood back on and looks over at a lady who has been eyeing him the whole time.
Guardian: What do you want?
The lady rises to her feet and looks Guardian in his, cold, eyes and walks over and places her hand on his shoulder. She feels around trying to find his face and at this point he realizes this woman is blind. Guardian removes her hand from his face and looks her in the eyes.
Guardian: Well what do you want?
She doesnt reply and just opens her mouth which shows that her tongue has been cut out making it near impossible for her to speak. Guardian shakes his head and pushes her off and she lands flat on her back and Guardian just walks off. He looks back as the old lady crawls around on the ground trying to get back up to her feet. She struggles and struggles to get to her feet, but its to no avail. She struggles as its a fight for survival, but Guardian just walks away knowing full well that the old woman shall most likely die in those streets by the morning. His heart tells him to help the old lady, but his mind says ah fucking let the old bitch die. A struggle between mind and heart is what often leads to great and horrible decisions, but well see what that has to do with anything later. He looks up, still raining, and then looks down the street and sees a local bar. He walks towards it, but then realizes its condemned.
Guardian: Damnit! I forgot they closed this place down ages ago.
He walks down the street as he wonders to himself what will he do about his match this week in R.A.G.E.? Should he take the smash mouth approach? How about the calm and collected approach? What about the respectful approach? These thoughts run through his head constantly as he slowly walks down this long and lonely road until he reaches a motel sign that says vacancies in bright neon lights. Vacancies.kind of like my soul Guardian thinks to himself as he walks towards the entrance to the office. Once he reaches the door he opens it and walks to the counter. The man at the desk is asleep and had left the latest Knicks ass kickingI mean game on. Guardian pecks the guy on the shoulder and the man seems to jump to the ceiling when he woke.
Man at the counter: Oh my godplease dont kill me!
Guardian looks at the small man and shakes his head.
Guardian: Not here to hurt you, but I am here for a room.
The man nods his head and reaches over and hands Guardian a key.
Man at the counter: Room 234, but now will that be cash or credit?
Guardian gives him an evil stare.
Man at the counter: I totally meant out of my paycheck.
Guardian nods and takes the key and heads off to room 234. As he walks the stairwell heading up towards the room he sees the same old lady he had seen before standing at the top of the stairwell holding a note. Once Guardian reaches the top shes gone, but the note is lying on the concrete floor. Guardian picks it up and begins to read it out loud to himself.
Guardian: For the time has come for you to learn you cannot fake this holy man routine anymore. You belong serving Satan once more and this is where you shall be. Youre no longer welcome in this world and I may not be able to see you or talk to you, but once my hand touched I felt the essence of pure evil in you and I shall not die until I vanquish your soul to the depths of hell.
Guardian looks up from the note and looks around cautiously wondering who the hell that lady was. He walks towards his room and sees that its slightly open, but as he looks in no one can be seen. The room is dark and quiet as Guardian walks into the room and flops down on the bed. The bed suddenly crashes down and groans out of anger and then decides to get up. He walks towards the bathroom, but before he enters the television suddenly turns on, but Guardian looks down and sees he stepped on the remote control. He laughs a bit and walks into the bathroom and flicks the light on. He looks into the mirror and turns the water on and splashes a little bit on his face and then looks deeply into his own eyes.
Guardian: Its true my soul is no longer recognizable, but yet why am I still here?
The journey of life is a short one that everyone must travel, but the longest part about is the journey they call death and for that trip everyone must travel alone. His eyes stand out like if someone had lodged huge chunks of coal into his sockets and left them there for his own torture. As he stares even deeper in them he seems to see a true reflection of himself. A man who truly could careless about others problems, he has no problem with not being politically correct, he doesnt mind kicking the shit out of someone and then ask questions, and finally a man thats not afraid to speak his mind on opinions that seem to bother him. He looks over to his right and then to his left and finally back into the mirror as if he was trying to avoid himself. He turns his back on the mirror and goes back into the main room and lies on the broken bed. He looks up at the ceiling and his mind begins to go back to his match versus John Krenzel, but that does not occupy him for long before he is back thinking about what that old lady had said.I mean written. He pulls the note out of his pocket and stares for a second, but then discards it and decides not to worry about it, because he has an important match this week in R.A.G.E. He knows John Krenzel is no push over, but then again neither is himself. He also realizes that the whole fucking locker room is going to try to kick his ass for his actions this past week, but does he care? No! He could care more about how Boston is fucking up. Guardian continues with his stare at the ceiling and he then rolls over and reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a picture.
Guardian: I cant believe it has been fifteen years.
He sets the picture on his nightstand and lies back. His head rests on the large feather pillow as he finally makes a comment on his match.
Guardian: Come tomorrow night I know Im in for hell, but this wouldnt be the first time Ive fought to overcome the odds. Everyone doubts me just because Im facing R.A.G.E hall of famer John Krenzel, but what does it matter? I mean that just means they elected him to a place that a man like me goes to die. Hes a young fucker, but see I have at least fifteen years experience on you Krenzel and once Im done with you Ill go on to eventually do something my son never saw me do.win the world heavyweight championship!
The camera gets a close up of the picture of his son as the scene fades out
: Poor man, he died a slow, painful, and lonely death. Now he lost the painful and slow part, but he yet has the lonely journey of death that hes about to embark on.He once again looks down on the body with the sweat from his brow dripping down on to the body. Each drop splashes on to the forehead of the unfortunate bastard, but it seems that this is only the beginning of his pain. The camera tries to get a view of his face, but his black hood only reveals his pitch black eyes. He places a hand on the forehead of the man.
: The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:
He leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul:
He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name' sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: For thou art with me;
Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies;
Thou annointest my head with oil; My cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever.
The twitches begin to slow down as the man places his large hand over the eyes of the body and turns his head to the right.
: May Satan not lay his hands on the tortured soul this body once possessed. For it is now sole property of the lord Jesus Christ.He turns around as the hood falls off revealing the back of his head. His long black, yet graying, hair flows freely as he walks away from the body leaving it once again alone, waiting to begin his journey into the afterlife. The man walks slowly to the farthest edge of the room and turns swiftly on his left foot. His eyes seem to have a burning stare of remorse and vengeance, but who is this man? His forehead shows signs of age with the ever present wrinkles and now we truly realize who this man is.Hells Guardian. Guardian looks over the sea of chairs that surround the casket and wonders to himself how anyone could stand to take that journey, but of course he realizes that we all go through this one day and secretly he wished that his would come soon enough. He looks over the room taking every possible aspect of the room in and then walks out into brisk winter air of New York City. His breaths heavily as he walk along the street, though as he walks he sees many old homeless people begging for many things. One grabs his leg and looks up at him, but he immediately lets go and crawls out into the street and lies on a manhole cover to try to get some sense of warmth from the occasional steam that rises from it. Guardian looks over at the poor man, but yet he does nothing but sighs and continues his walk. He looks up at the setting sun and watches the days last light shine over the city and then slowly fade away. Guardian looks up as it begins to rain.
Guardian: Well this was the last thing I needed today!
Guardian flips his hood back on and looks over at a lady who has been eyeing him the whole time.
Guardian: What do you want?
The lady rises to her feet and looks Guardian in his, cold, eyes and walks over and places her hand on his shoulder. She feels around trying to find his face and at this point he realizes this woman is blind. Guardian removes her hand from his face and looks her in the eyes.
Guardian: Well what do you want?
She doesnt reply and just opens her mouth which shows that her tongue has been cut out making it near impossible for her to speak. Guardian shakes his head and pushes her off and she lands flat on her back and Guardian just walks off. He looks back as the old lady crawls around on the ground trying to get back up to her feet. She struggles and struggles to get to her feet, but its to no avail. She struggles as its a fight for survival, but Guardian just walks away knowing full well that the old woman shall most likely die in those streets by the morning. His heart tells him to help the old lady, but his mind says ah fucking let the old bitch die. A struggle between mind and heart is what often leads to great and horrible decisions, but well see what that has to do with anything later. He looks up, still raining, and then looks down the street and sees a local bar. He walks towards it, but then realizes its condemned.
Guardian: Damnit! I forgot they closed this place down ages ago.
He walks down the street as he wonders to himself what will he do about his match this week in R.A.G.E.? Should he take the smash mouth approach? How about the calm and collected approach? What about the respectful approach? These thoughts run through his head constantly as he slowly walks down this long and lonely road until he reaches a motel sign that says vacancies in bright neon lights. Vacancies.kind of like my soul Guardian thinks to himself as he walks towards the entrance to the office. Once he reaches the door he opens it and walks to the counter. The man at the desk is asleep and had left the latest Knicks ass kickingI mean game on. Guardian pecks the guy on the shoulder and the man seems to jump to the ceiling when he woke.
Man at the counter: Oh my godplease dont kill me!
Guardian looks at the small man and shakes his head.
Guardian: Not here to hurt you, but I am here for a room.
The man nods his head and reaches over and hands Guardian a key.
Man at the counter: Room 234, but now will that be cash or credit?
Guardian gives him an evil stare.
Man at the counter: I totally meant out of my paycheck.
Guardian nods and takes the key and heads off to room 234. As he walks the stairwell heading up towards the room he sees the same old lady he had seen before standing at the top of the stairwell holding a note. Once Guardian reaches the top shes gone, but the note is lying on the concrete floor. Guardian picks it up and begins to read it out loud to himself.
Guardian: For the time has come for you to learn you cannot fake this holy man routine anymore. You belong serving Satan once more and this is where you shall be. Youre no longer welcome in this world and I may not be able to see you or talk to you, but once my hand touched I felt the essence of pure evil in you and I shall not die until I vanquish your soul to the depths of hell.
Guardian looks up from the note and looks around cautiously wondering who the hell that lady was. He walks towards his room and sees that its slightly open, but as he looks in no one can be seen. The room is dark and quiet as Guardian walks into the room and flops down on the bed. The bed suddenly crashes down and groans out of anger and then decides to get up. He walks towards the bathroom, but before he enters the television suddenly turns on, but Guardian looks down and sees he stepped on the remote control. He laughs a bit and walks into the bathroom and flicks the light on. He looks into the mirror and turns the water on and splashes a little bit on his face and then looks deeply into his own eyes.
Guardian: Its true my soul is no longer recognizable, but yet why am I still here?
The journey of life is a short one that everyone must travel, but the longest part about is the journey they call death and for that trip everyone must travel alone. His eyes stand out like if someone had lodged huge chunks of coal into his sockets and left them there for his own torture. As he stares even deeper in them he seems to see a true reflection of himself. A man who truly could careless about others problems, he has no problem with not being politically correct, he doesnt mind kicking the shit out of someone and then ask questions, and finally a man thats not afraid to speak his mind on opinions that seem to bother him. He looks over to his right and then to his left and finally back into the mirror as if he was trying to avoid himself. He turns his back on the mirror and goes back into the main room and lies on the broken bed. He looks up at the ceiling and his mind begins to go back to his match versus John Krenzel, but that does not occupy him for long before he is back thinking about what that old lady had said.I mean written. He pulls the note out of his pocket and stares for a second, but then discards it and decides not to worry about it, because he has an important match this week in R.A.G.E. He knows John Krenzel is no push over, but then again neither is himself. He also realizes that the whole fucking locker room is going to try to kick his ass for his actions this past week, but does he care? No! He could care more about how Boston is fucking up. Guardian continues with his stare at the ceiling and he then rolls over and reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a picture.
Guardian: I cant believe it has been fifteen years.
He sets the picture on his nightstand and lies back. His head rests on the large feather pillow as he finally makes a comment on his match.
Guardian: Come tomorrow night I know Im in for hell, but this wouldnt be the first time Ive fought to overcome the odds. Everyone doubts me just because Im facing R.A.G.E hall of famer John Krenzel, but what does it matter? I mean that just means they elected him to a place that a man like me goes to die. Hes a young fucker, but see I have at least fifteen years experience on you Krenzel and once Im done with you Ill go on to eventually do something my son never saw me do.win the world heavyweight championship!
The camera gets a close up of the picture of his son as the scene fades out
