Post by MasterEvil on Jul 20, 2014 13:09:32 GMT
S I X - D A Y S - R E M A I N I N G
★ The Broken Saint ★
“Welcome back Rhiannon…I guess that is what you expect somebody to say.”
As those words were spoken the light began to bring life to this scene. Even though lit…the light was still rather dim, meaning that only one thing can be defined in the darkness of this area…the face of an Englishman known as Broken Saint. In the pass few weeks Saint have been showing signs of a new change…first he injured Brian James with no apology or regret, then he began take interest in hurting his opponents over simply defeating them and then he punched the returning Brian James in his still healing shoulder. Yet it didn’t seem to bother the Englishman all too much since, on this upcoming episode of Adrenaline, he’ll get the honour of being the opponent in Rhiannon’s return match. Yet, if anything, Saint doesn’t look too concerned at all.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“At Retribution, after a month or two hiatus, you’ve made your return and now everyone expects me to be some kind of welcome back match for you in your match back in an Adrenaline ring. Everything seems so perfect, doesn’t it Rhiannon? You won the World Heavyweight Title twice, you fought Hannah Walters and lost and then you were gone. Yet now here you are, coming back into an Adrenaline ring with the purpose of most likely becoming Champion again so you have your first match back, where everyone plans on you emerging victorious at my expense like the perfect beginning of the return of Rhiannon. So perfectly planned…so perfectly thought…yet what you need to realise dear Rhiannon is that, in a world like this very one, nothing is perfect.
Throughout his words the camera was zooming back at a tiny rate until the front of his hair could vaguely be spotted in this darkness. After practically hissing out his final few words Saint drooped his head down, letting his hair cover the vast majority of his face.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“You see, I am probably the worst kind of guy for you to face in your first match back. Unless you’ve been ever so blind, you would have noticed that I’ve already injured one guy and tried to badly injure another. It is so damn funny Rhiannon…those things such be classed as heinous and sinister, since why would anybody want to end the livelihood of a few competitors. Yet I am simply smiling at what I’ve done to those men. I don’t regret what I did then and I’ll definitely hold no ounce of regret right now for all the things that I plan to do to you this Friday dear New Jersey girl. I’m sure you’re use to hurting others so much, from injuring Shady Layne to the attacks you’ve committed against the many…and you expect to come back like you’re an antidote to some poison? Oh such a silly…little…girl.”
An almost sickly chuckle departed the Englishman’s lips as his hands slowly reached forwards. A combination of the camera zooming out quite a bit and the dim light getting a little bit brighter finally revealed what Saint is now holding…a pair of vertical metal poles.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“Recognise these Rhiannon? These are metal bars used to make sure that no inmate escapes this asylum. Now do you recognise it Rhiannon? No? Well you should; this was the very cell you’ve slept multiple nights in…with its own little bed…its own little space…and its own camera monitoring every move that happens here. Of course that was until one Alakai Burke came around, took you out of here and turned you into his prodigy of a superstar. It is actually quite cute that, deep down in your subconscious, you believed that nobody knew how you felt so you clung, like a leper, to those you fantasise about while lashing out at those who aren’t. Well here comes a piece of the truth. While these places can be quite inhumane, these bars right here are perfects for monsters…”
His body never moved once from position as the light slowly brightened up even more to reveal a decent size, yet barely covered, bed to one corner and some kind of table at the other. The pause in his breath caused the camera to look close to the British male.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“Like you and I.”
Suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, Saint’s left hand let go of the bar and launched out towards the camera as his upper body lunged at the bars. Luckily the camera just got back enough to barely get out of the male’s range yet that lunge did cause Saint’s hair to fly to the side as now it completely covered the right hand side of his face.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“We are both monsters Rhiannon, for the both of us have spent time in this hellhole and the both of us were taken out of here by the guy who would train us to become the wrestlers we are today. Alakai Burke, a guy who has won World Titles in his prime, took you out and turned you into his protégée as he tried to turn you into a wrestling phenomenon. Meanwhile I was taken out by Chris Middley, a guy who never succeeded at anything, and he convinced me to train under him to turn my whole life around. We’re like two sides of the same coin Rhiannon. We are monsters turned into wrestlers. We’ve both had our high moments. We’ve both had our low moments. And now, for the first time, the coin is finally going to get flipped…that question is what will the call be? Heads, you the two World Heavyweight Champion returning from hiatus, or tails, me…this guy who is known in history for short things.”
The man from Britain did chuckle, quite dryly may I add, after making a slightly short comment about why his name is in the history books. The light dimmed down a little again but not enough to leave the camera unable to see Saint’s entire body as he dragged his right hand back into the cell before using that very hand to move his hair off his face.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“But what you need to understand is that is where the similarities and familiarities end between the two sides of the same looking glass. While you were taught how to contain and use your rage as a weapon in your bouts, I was simply made to seal mine in a cage. You simply lost a few months in this ward; I’ve spent years in an asylum as I was powerless to prevent my own world from crashing down all around me. You won the Women’s Champion and ended up becoming the longest holder of that Championship while I was not only burned alive but also bared witness to the death of my own unborn child. You won the World Heavyweight Title, by beating some Latin tart, while I was busy recovering from a heart attack while nobody, and I mean NOBODY, uttered the words ‘we want Saint.’ And now…you’re coming back with the spotlight all on you while I am expected to do nothing more than an Adam Banz by lying down on my back, and letting you pin me, so you could look good. Well guess what the problem with that is everybody? I am so sick of being so damn sick of being nothing more than stepping stone for somebody else, ever since day-fucking-one.”
His body was still slanted against the bars as he said his words yet once he finished them his expression looks dreadfully serious as he suddenly flopped to his side and rolled into a sitting position, his back now against the bars he was originally holding. However both of his hands moved to clutch onto the two furthest bars away while the male looked over his right shoulder to have one eye completely focused on the recording device.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“It was actually during Retribution itself…where, for the second year running, I had to sit on the sidelines as worthless hacks after pitiful failures take up spots that should have been mine…that it finally happened. A lightning bolt of wisdom finally struck me as I came to the realisation that continuing on like I am going would simply do nothing more then turn me into catastrophic failure that my trainer has always been. I don’t care if he trained me because I know that I am better than him, better than this revolting treatment of someone of my talent and better than you Rhiannon.”
Never once did he move yet once he finished his words the male let go of the bars and stood up before strolling over to the bed. Without saying a single word Saint pulled a small broken piece of glass from underneath the pillow and raised it up to his head while beginning to pace around in the cell.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“You are a two time World Champion…you are the only person to have ever pinned Shady Layne…yet I…do not…give a…shit.”
The lights were dimming down so it was impossible to clearly tell what the man from Gretna is doing yet once he finished his few words his body fell down so he was sitting on the bed now, the lack of clear light making it impossible to see anything above the Brit’s mouth.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“I have a story for you Rhiannon. In my old primary school I was never a popular child…I never had a true friend…for I was the child who sat on top of the climbing frame, fantasising what it would be like to be above the world. Yet, as I look down, I could see popular boys picking on the weaker boys and popular girls ignoring the unpopular girls and yet there was somebody different from the rest of the crowd. A black haired girl who chooses to isolate herself from the flock. She was pretty…she was beautiful…she was somebody I thought could actually understand me. But with everyday I watched I saw her change…first it was futile, but after a while she made her way to the top of the popular girls, making everyone she who opposes her suffer on the way, before ruling the ground below with an iron fist. The more I watched her tyrannical ruling the more a certain emotion struck me. It wasn’t happiness, sadness or grief…it was jealousy. The more I saw her the more I realised that that could have been me.”
His voice was cold, his body was almost motionless. Yet the bubbling amount of anger in his voice as almost sickening with how much it was flooding his words. A small red liquid suddenly trailed down into sight as it went down the left side of his face and pass his lips. However, before the identity of the substance could be made properly clear, the lights dimmed out into completely blackness.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“It is so funny actually…you remind me so much of that girl Rhiannon. Yet this Friday…unlike back then…I am going to do something about it. You may be the best in the world or you may be just a pasty-faced little black-haired brat…I don’t give a shit about that for, no matter what you do, I am not just going to beat you…I am going maim you in front of everyone who dares to show up at the Vector Arena. For months and years and months and years everyone has seen you be a monster on anyone who has crossed your path. This Friday…dear Rhiannon…”
No light…no sight…yet the device could hear every word that was spoken. Once the name of the Auckland arena was spoken the light lit up a tiny bit only to immediately dim back down. Yet the moment ‘dear Rhiannon’ was spoken the light blast into life. The Broken Saint was now on his knees leaning forward against the cell bars, each hand clutching a bar each, yet one thing is very distinguishable is that his entire face is covered in blood. No centimetre of flesh could be seen underneath all that blood as now a sinister grin is upon Saint’s face.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“You’re going to see the monster I can be.”
Once he finished his words the British male began to laugh as all the lights began to flicker on and off at a rate of five times a seconds before finally shutting off. After five seconds of relatively uncomfortable darkness the light slowly came back on to show that the male is absolutely nowhere to be seen. Yet the part that frighten the camera operator the most was that from the start of the darkness all the way to when this footage suddenly shut off one thing has been constant…the laughter of The Broken Saint.
O N E - D A Y - R E M A I N I N G
Only twenty four fours away from the nine of May’s episode of Friday night Adrenaline and right now there are two people standing the backstage area. The first of them is a redheaded girl who has youth written all over her face while the second person is a male who looks…mixed. Annoyance, amusement, dismayed, serious…they are just four measly words that can be somewhat used to somewhat describe the facial expression of the male many knows as The Broken Saint. The cameraman arrived and adjusted his camera before indicating to the new interviewer, Jemma Asar, that she can start the interview.
q u i r k y l i t t l e s i s
« J E M M A A S A R »
“Hello everybody, my name is Jemma Asar and with me at this time is The Broken Saint.”
She stopped, most likely waiting for a sign of gratitude - like some wrestlers do give to the interviewer - yet instead received a silently cold expression from the male.
q u i r k y l i t t l e s i s
« J E M M A A S A R »
“Anyway…tomorrow night you get the honour of being Rhiannon’s first opponent since her disappearance…”
★ The Broken Saint ★
“You think I feel honoured?”
Immediately was spoken to break Miss Asar’s words.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“Why do you think I should feel honoured about being viewed as everyone as nothing more than a stepping stone? The last time I checked my contract it never said, under any lines, that I would be a welcome back mat.”
Anger did show in the male’s words yet quickly after saying his words Saint hand his right hand through his hair.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“Sorry…continue.”
q u i r k y l i t t l e s i s
« J E M M A A S A R »
“Well, er, hm, yeah…Rhiannon haven’t wrestled a match in a while yet, with your lack of victories, many are expecting her to leave this arena in victory. So my question is this…what is your game plan going to be entering this big time match tomorrow night?”
★ The Broken Saint ★
“A big time match…you really think a match against somebody who probably still spend her mornings watching Barney the Dinosaur is a big time occasion? Thinking such a thing is an insult to professional wrestling all by itself yet you seriously want me to consider Rhiannon as a big time opponent? Okay…I’ll play along…Rhiannon is a two time World Heavyweight Champion and even managed to pin Shady Layne in the middle the ring, a feat that the likes of Adrian Quinn and Trish Newborn have failed to do more times than anybody could remember. So naturally people would see this match as a chance to clement themselves as a top tier competitor for, in the eyes of many, a victory over somebody like Rhiannon means that you have a bright future. Well here is a question for that many…if beating Rhiannon makes yourself a living legend then what happened to that clown Adrian Jobs? You don’t know? He was the first person to beat Rhiannon, without any help, last year yet now he is a joke without a punch line. How come she was unable to beat Jobs, eh? I’ll let you speculate on that.”
Even though his face could show a thousand expressions his voice was emotionlessly blank yet surprisingly calm as he leaned his side gently against the wall that the both of them were standing near.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“I’m sure that, even though they boo her, many people secretly admire that pasty-faced Alexis Morrison groupie for her times when she battled against Nathan Parker’s hatred towards her division two years ago and for the wars she has waged against Shady Layne, who to this day is nine times out of ten the best wrestler in World Elite Wrestling. But while those people all fixate themselves upon the illusion that Rhiannon is truly I goddess, I prefer to look beyond…look beyond her psychological derailment…look beyond her so-called lust for violence…and look beyond her dear, sweet, candy land. What did I discover once I looked beyond all of that? Who Rhiannon truly is. She might have been in an asylum during her life before, but she ain’t no psycho. She has been trained by a guy who can’t keep his company under control…but she ain’t no world class wrestler. Hell, Miss Leblanc isn’t even a freak of psychological nature. All that Rhiannon is, all that Rhiannon was and all that Rhiannon ever will be is a little girl…a little girl seeking attention yet is quick to magically disappear when things don’t go her way.”
Halfway through his words the Englishman shook his head quite unexpectedly, startling the inexperienced interviewer as his hair now covered a decent portion of his face. A dry chuckle, that left Saint’s lips moments after calling his opponent ‘a little girl seeking attention,’ did send shivers down the redhead’s spine.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“Three years ago she won a shot at the Television Title, lost her shot at the Television Title and disappeared like she was never there in this first place. Then earlier this year she failed to beat Hannah Walters, the only person who can literally be here for years yet only wrestles in a match once in a blue moon, on two occasions she vanished again only to finally come back at Retribution where she got rejected by Chance Rugani…almost as quickly as Chris McKenzie dumped her last year. I won’t ask you if I’m wrong, Jemma, for it’d be wrong to do such a thing to somebody who haven’t got the longevity that I have.”
All of a sudden both of Saint’s hands shot out and grasped onto the interviewer’s shoulders, causing the female to jump as now her nervousness was easy to tell on camera…yet instead of trying to squirm Jemma stayed still, possibly realising that - from his grip alone - that the male is more likely to keep her still, as the British male suddenly dropped down to his knees.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“But if you meet that self-proclaimed Goddess of Adrenaline, ask her if I’m speaking the truth and she answered with no…then she is lying. For, just like a spoilt little child, Rhiannon hates to be reminded of her failures and will even hide in her fantasies and dreams just to block the negativity away. But while she believes in her fantasies and is probably waiting for the day a madman and his blue box arrives to take her through time and space…I live in the real world and the reality is that, this Friday, Rhiannon will get to see me take her dreams, beat it with a crowbar and blow that dream up with its own mother.”
His eyes never once left hers as his hands finally let go of her shoulders. The gleam in her eyes, partly from his Death in the Family reference but mostly from the words ‘madman and his blue box,’ was easy for the male to detect yet Saint chose to drag himself up to his feet, leaning the side of his body against the wall as he did so, instead of making a comment relating to her possible interest.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“What was that question of yours again Jemma Asar? The one you asked me earlier.”
q u i r k y l i t t l e s i s
« J E M M A A S A R »
“M-My que-question…oh y-yeah. W-What is your ga-game plan go-”
★ The Broken Saint ★
“My game plan!”
The redhead’s nervous stumbling and stuttering was immediately cut off by an almost flamboyant sounding sound as those three words snapped out of Saint’s lips like his tongue was a whip of some kind.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“A game plan is an important thing for it is by following a plan to perfection that people, sport related or not, succeed. So what is my game plan to combating Rhiannon? The answer is simple…I don’t have one. Why is that? Just like your obvious hero, I need one tomorrow night for a guy who plans is always the easy one to predict…a guy who never plans anything, however, is the kind of guy you can never be certain of, which is why the trash cans from Scaro is always afraid of the man from Galafrey. But do not think that I am trying to make Rhiannon worry because one of the biggest reasons why I haven’t got a game plan for Rhiannon is this…I don’t need one.”
The laugh that especially the man from Britain’s lips, after saying his last four words, was definitely a major surprise for both the Miss Asar and the cameraman, at least for how positive that laugh sounded compared to his chuckle earlier. While laughing Saint flung his head back, causing his hair to uncover face as - the moment his hair is out of the way - his face suddenly turned to quite a serious expression.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“I don’t need a solid plan to beat Rhiannon. I am stronger than her, I am larger than her, I am more aerial than her, I am more experienced than here and I am smarter than her. She is nothing more than a mere, spoilt, child and tomorrow night I am going to turn this little girl’s comeback, that she might have been planning out in her dreams of candy land, into a living…breathing…nightmare in the middle of the ring. Yes, Rhiannon will most likely disappear once again when I’m done with her but, unlike all those other times she will not be coming back any time soon.”
His final sentence sounded like a promise…a dark promise…yet after saying his words the twenty-four year old moved his hand over to the camera lens, blocking out the light, so that the last thing it could see before the footage ended was simple darkness.
F O R T Y - M I N U T E S - R E M A I N I N G
SEEK ME! CALL ME!
I'LL BE WAITING!!!
Those words, that were blasted out from the PA system, caught the surprise of many people in the Auckland crowd yet the New Zealanders did try their best to cry out those words just as loudly yet some more people in attendance - at this episode of the Friday night pre-show Anarchy - were surprised that instead of ‘The World Belongs To Me’ ‘Playing the Saint’ by Digital Summer began to play shortly after those words were screamed. Out from behind the black curtain emerges the Englishman many knows as Broken Saint. Some members of the crowd did cheer while others didn’t make much of a response as the male quietly made his way down to ringside, unusually ignoring the fans this time round as he immediately slid under the bottom rope and into the ring. Saint then approached the ring announcer and took the microphone from her before telling her to leave the ring. The moment she did the male looked towards the crowd and raised the microphone up.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“So is this as loud as Auckland can go?”
That one comment alone made the people of this New Zealand crowd cheer at a louder volume. However The Broken Saint doesn’t look as amused as any typical baby face would. Instead the male simply leaned back against the nearest turnbuckle.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“For the past month or two I’ve been asked one word many times…why. People ask me why did I injure Brian James…why did I offer no apology…and why, on the night he came back, did I attack his still healing arm. I honestly didn’t think that it was worth answering but, since all you people won’t shut up about it, I’ll finally tell you why. Three words actually…I am sick.”
Now this crowd was beginning to sound a little mixed in their cheers and boos, especially when he sound a bit belittling in the way he said that the fans have been wanting answers from him, yet some people in attendance were beginning to look confused when they heard his three words.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“What? You want a longer explanation? Fine…I am sick…I am so sick…I am so sick of sticking my neck out for all you ungrateful gits.”
Now that comment brought out a decent amount of boos from the people in attendance tonight.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“This time, two years ago, I’ve had arenas cheer for me every time I did something on every weekly show. Yet now all you lazy buggers can’t be bothered to even respond to the intro I’ve had since day one. I have done many things for all you people, I have taken risks that others thought were stupid, I spoke my mind on such a frequent basis that I was classed as a loudmouth and I have even come back from being set on fucking fire. I don’t give a monkey’s arse if this isn’t the right language for the children in attendance for I have so much fucking frustration built up inside of me that I don’t give a shit about all you people for none of you ever gave a shit about me. I can even give you three pieces of goddamn evidence to prove my point.”
The boos were building up with every sentence that departed from the male’s lips yet, unfazed by both this and the fact this is his first ever in-ring promo, Saint simply moved himself up until he was sitting on the top turnbuckle before continuing to speak.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“The first of which was the first Animosity after Legacy of two years ago, when I was actually set on fire by some kid off the street. At least one of you moronic imbeciles could have tried to help me but instead you all watched as I burned into a coma…doing fuck all to help me. The second of which was when I had a heart attack live on-air…a motherfucking heart attack…and you ungrateful sods cared more about your own entertainment over my DAMN life. Oh? You all are booing me now? Why is that? You lot like to cheer when the likes of Calvin Harris and Trish Newborn speaks bullshit after bullshit but when I exercise my freedom of speech to tell you all the truth…you boo me? You are all mindless sheep following false shepherds. What is that? You all still don’t believe me? What about after Beach Brawl last year then!?!”
Luckily the cameras are never on during the pre-show or else they could end up catching some middle fingers that were directed towards the Englishman yet never once did Saint appear affected by this as he was practically shouting down at the New Zealanders here tonight with his first two reasons.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“On that night not only did I take on Chance Rugani for the WEW Championship but I had all you people cheer for me. Yet then, for the following two months, I was pushed off the card. Instead of giving me some opponents for me to face of against the bookers, who were obsessed with Rugani versus McKenzie number eight-thousand, decide to take me off the card altogether. I wasn’t even booked on the fucking pre-show. Yet what hurt me the most was this…none of you people did anything. None of you one chanted my name, none of you tweeted me and none of you even bothered to have a Broken Saint sign up. I use to think that as long as I had all your support that I would be a happy man…I guess I was a fool to have ever had any faith in all you pricks, young and old.”
Does his third reason hold some merit or not? The answer is uncertain yet one thing that was certain was that, with every passing word, Broken Saint’s voice was changing from north-eastern English to something more northern…very northern.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“Do I sound different? Of course I do…when I became a wrestler my trainer went up to me and told me that I would be more marketable as an English guy. But you know what? Screw him, screw the marketing department of this shit-hole, which is still shit even with some new bimbo in charged, and screw all of you, I am a Scotsman and I am sick of pretending to be mister English. Hell, from this day forwards, I am forsaking the fool that I was. I am forsaking the armpit of a country known as England, I am forsaking all of you hypocritical liars who pretend to adore me and I am forsaking The Broken Saint.”
Wait…the Englishman is actually a Scotsman!?! His fans in attendance tonight must have been surprised at that revelation…if they weren’t busy booing the shit out of him as he descended down the corners, quite slowly at that may I add, and onto the mat.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“That is right, you idiots, The Broken Saint is absolutely no more, for I have finally got some sense kicked into my head and tonight is going to be a new start for me. Tonight many people expect me to be a walk in the park for that milk-skinned hooker Rhiannon, cripple her and make damn sure that she will be unable to leave the arena without a goddamn stretcher. I am sick and tired of being some other person’s stepping stone while worthless people like Jaxson Baxter, Chris McKenzie and Adam Banz all leapfrog me to World Title without even once proving their worth to it. So now this stepping stone is going to become a shark and will rip that so-called goddess’ leg right out of damn socket.”
The moment he finished his latest words the guy formerly known as Broken Saint barely heard the faint ‘Rhiannon’ chants that were beginning to be made and grinned at this.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“What is that? You idiots want her to beat me? No wonder nine-tenths of this country’s combined IQ are sheep. She may want to beat me and try to use me as a stepping stone back to greatness but what that raven haired leper needs to realise is that her time is DONE, my time is NOW and I REFUSE to let some mentally confused retard like her rob me of the greatness that I deserve for so DAMN long!”
His first few lines did help make that chant louder before after finish shouting out his last sentence the male flopped down to his knees, leaned his chest against the middle rope and reached his free hand out to grab a nearby camera. He then dragged it in close so it could only see his face, not caring if the camera was on or not, before holding the microphone close to his lips for a final time.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“Heh…heh…heh…sure…your twitter page might say that she has a death wish but is too divine…but what your self-proclaimed divinity means absolutely nothing to me you damn idiot. My name is no longer The Broken Saint…it is now Saint Jericho…and tonight, Rhiannon, not only shall your thirst for self-destruction be quenched by me. But tonight…oh tonight Rhiannon…in front of all these pathetic people in attendance and backstage…I’ll turn you into my
BITCH!”
The moment the male screamed out his final word the Scotsman dropped the microphone on the floor and ‘Playing the Saint’ began to play out from the PA system. Without uttering another word the male dropped down to the mat and rolled out of the ring before beginning to walk up the ramp-way. However he stopped to spot a child with, out of all things, a Rhiannon sign. So, without any warning at all, Jericho snatched the sign out of the child’s hands, ripped the sign in two and threw both pieces on top of the now crying child. This definitely got an ovation of boos from practically everybody in attendance as Saint simply continued to walk up the ramp and through the black curtains, not even bothering to look back towards the Auckland crowd.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“Welcome back Rhiannon…I guess that is what you expect somebody to say.”
As those words were spoken the light began to bring life to this scene. Even though lit…the light was still rather dim, meaning that only one thing can be defined in the darkness of this area…the face of an Englishman known as Broken Saint. In the pass few weeks Saint have been showing signs of a new change…first he injured Brian James with no apology or regret, then he began take interest in hurting his opponents over simply defeating them and then he punched the returning Brian James in his still healing shoulder. Yet it didn’t seem to bother the Englishman all too much since, on this upcoming episode of Adrenaline, he’ll get the honour of being the opponent in Rhiannon’s return match. Yet, if anything, Saint doesn’t look too concerned at all.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“At Retribution, after a month or two hiatus, you’ve made your return and now everyone expects me to be some kind of welcome back match for you in your match back in an Adrenaline ring. Everything seems so perfect, doesn’t it Rhiannon? You won the World Heavyweight Title twice, you fought Hannah Walters and lost and then you were gone. Yet now here you are, coming back into an Adrenaline ring with the purpose of most likely becoming Champion again so you have your first match back, where everyone plans on you emerging victorious at my expense like the perfect beginning of the return of Rhiannon. So perfectly planned…so perfectly thought…yet what you need to realise dear Rhiannon is that, in a world like this very one, nothing is perfect.
Throughout his words the camera was zooming back at a tiny rate until the front of his hair could vaguely be spotted in this darkness. After practically hissing out his final few words Saint drooped his head down, letting his hair cover the vast majority of his face.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“You see, I am probably the worst kind of guy for you to face in your first match back. Unless you’ve been ever so blind, you would have noticed that I’ve already injured one guy and tried to badly injure another. It is so damn funny Rhiannon…those things such be classed as heinous and sinister, since why would anybody want to end the livelihood of a few competitors. Yet I am simply smiling at what I’ve done to those men. I don’t regret what I did then and I’ll definitely hold no ounce of regret right now for all the things that I plan to do to you this Friday dear New Jersey girl. I’m sure you’re use to hurting others so much, from injuring Shady Layne to the attacks you’ve committed against the many…and you expect to come back like you’re an antidote to some poison? Oh such a silly…little…girl.”
An almost sickly chuckle departed the Englishman’s lips as his hands slowly reached forwards. A combination of the camera zooming out quite a bit and the dim light getting a little bit brighter finally revealed what Saint is now holding…a pair of vertical metal poles.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“Recognise these Rhiannon? These are metal bars used to make sure that no inmate escapes this asylum. Now do you recognise it Rhiannon? No? Well you should; this was the very cell you’ve slept multiple nights in…with its own little bed…its own little space…and its own camera monitoring every move that happens here. Of course that was until one Alakai Burke came around, took you out of here and turned you into his prodigy of a superstar. It is actually quite cute that, deep down in your subconscious, you believed that nobody knew how you felt so you clung, like a leper, to those you fantasise about while lashing out at those who aren’t. Well here comes a piece of the truth. While these places can be quite inhumane, these bars right here are perfects for monsters…”
His body never moved once from position as the light slowly brightened up even more to reveal a decent size, yet barely covered, bed to one corner and some kind of table at the other. The pause in his breath caused the camera to look close to the British male.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“Like you and I.”
Suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, Saint’s left hand let go of the bar and launched out towards the camera as his upper body lunged at the bars. Luckily the camera just got back enough to barely get out of the male’s range yet that lunge did cause Saint’s hair to fly to the side as now it completely covered the right hand side of his face.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“We are both monsters Rhiannon, for the both of us have spent time in this hellhole and the both of us were taken out of here by the guy who would train us to become the wrestlers we are today. Alakai Burke, a guy who has won World Titles in his prime, took you out and turned you into his protégée as he tried to turn you into a wrestling phenomenon. Meanwhile I was taken out by Chris Middley, a guy who never succeeded at anything, and he convinced me to train under him to turn my whole life around. We’re like two sides of the same coin Rhiannon. We are monsters turned into wrestlers. We’ve both had our high moments. We’ve both had our low moments. And now, for the first time, the coin is finally going to get flipped…that question is what will the call be? Heads, you the two World Heavyweight Champion returning from hiatus, or tails, me…this guy who is known in history for short things.”
The man from Britain did chuckle, quite dryly may I add, after making a slightly short comment about why his name is in the history books. The light dimmed down a little again but not enough to leave the camera unable to see Saint’s entire body as he dragged his right hand back into the cell before using that very hand to move his hair off his face.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“But what you need to understand is that is where the similarities and familiarities end between the two sides of the same looking glass. While you were taught how to contain and use your rage as a weapon in your bouts, I was simply made to seal mine in a cage. You simply lost a few months in this ward; I’ve spent years in an asylum as I was powerless to prevent my own world from crashing down all around me. You won the Women’s Champion and ended up becoming the longest holder of that Championship while I was not only burned alive but also bared witness to the death of my own unborn child. You won the World Heavyweight Title, by beating some Latin tart, while I was busy recovering from a heart attack while nobody, and I mean NOBODY, uttered the words ‘we want Saint.’ And now…you’re coming back with the spotlight all on you while I am expected to do nothing more than an Adam Banz by lying down on my back, and letting you pin me, so you could look good. Well guess what the problem with that is everybody? I am so sick of being so damn sick of being nothing more than stepping stone for somebody else, ever since day-fucking-one.”
His body was still slanted against the bars as he said his words yet once he finished them his expression looks dreadfully serious as he suddenly flopped to his side and rolled into a sitting position, his back now against the bars he was originally holding. However both of his hands moved to clutch onto the two furthest bars away while the male looked over his right shoulder to have one eye completely focused on the recording device.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“It was actually during Retribution itself…where, for the second year running, I had to sit on the sidelines as worthless hacks after pitiful failures take up spots that should have been mine…that it finally happened. A lightning bolt of wisdom finally struck me as I came to the realisation that continuing on like I am going would simply do nothing more then turn me into catastrophic failure that my trainer has always been. I don’t care if he trained me because I know that I am better than him, better than this revolting treatment of someone of my talent and better than you Rhiannon.”
Never once did he move yet once he finished his words the male let go of the bars and stood up before strolling over to the bed. Without saying a single word Saint pulled a small broken piece of glass from underneath the pillow and raised it up to his head while beginning to pace around in the cell.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“You are a two time World Champion…you are the only person to have ever pinned Shady Layne…yet I…do not…give a…shit.”
The lights were dimming down so it was impossible to clearly tell what the man from Gretna is doing yet once he finished his few words his body fell down so he was sitting on the bed now, the lack of clear light making it impossible to see anything above the Brit’s mouth.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“I have a story for you Rhiannon. In my old primary school I was never a popular child…I never had a true friend…for I was the child who sat on top of the climbing frame, fantasising what it would be like to be above the world. Yet, as I look down, I could see popular boys picking on the weaker boys and popular girls ignoring the unpopular girls and yet there was somebody different from the rest of the crowd. A black haired girl who chooses to isolate herself from the flock. She was pretty…she was beautiful…she was somebody I thought could actually understand me. But with everyday I watched I saw her change…first it was futile, but after a while she made her way to the top of the popular girls, making everyone she who opposes her suffer on the way, before ruling the ground below with an iron fist. The more I watched her tyrannical ruling the more a certain emotion struck me. It wasn’t happiness, sadness or grief…it was jealousy. The more I saw her the more I realised that that could have been me.”
His voice was cold, his body was almost motionless. Yet the bubbling amount of anger in his voice as almost sickening with how much it was flooding his words. A small red liquid suddenly trailed down into sight as it went down the left side of his face and pass his lips. However, before the identity of the substance could be made properly clear, the lights dimmed out into completely blackness.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“It is so funny actually…you remind me so much of that girl Rhiannon. Yet this Friday…unlike back then…I am going to do something about it. You may be the best in the world or you may be just a pasty-faced little black-haired brat…I don’t give a shit about that for, no matter what you do, I am not just going to beat you…I am going maim you in front of everyone who dares to show up at the Vector Arena. For months and years and months and years everyone has seen you be a monster on anyone who has crossed your path. This Friday…dear Rhiannon…”
No light…no sight…yet the device could hear every word that was spoken. Once the name of the Auckland arena was spoken the light lit up a tiny bit only to immediately dim back down. Yet the moment ‘dear Rhiannon’ was spoken the light blast into life. The Broken Saint was now on his knees leaning forward against the cell bars, each hand clutching a bar each, yet one thing is very distinguishable is that his entire face is covered in blood. No centimetre of flesh could be seen underneath all that blood as now a sinister grin is upon Saint’s face.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“You’re going to see the monster I can be.”
Once he finished his words the British male began to laugh as all the lights began to flicker on and off at a rate of five times a seconds before finally shutting off. After five seconds of relatively uncomfortable darkness the light slowly came back on to show that the male is absolutely nowhere to be seen. Yet the part that frighten the camera operator the most was that from the start of the darkness all the way to when this footage suddenly shut off one thing has been constant…the laughter of The Broken Saint.
O N E - D A Y - R E M A I N I N G
Only twenty four fours away from the nine of May’s episode of Friday night Adrenaline and right now there are two people standing the backstage area. The first of them is a redheaded girl who has youth written all over her face while the second person is a male who looks…mixed. Annoyance, amusement, dismayed, serious…they are just four measly words that can be somewhat used to somewhat describe the facial expression of the male many knows as The Broken Saint. The cameraman arrived and adjusted his camera before indicating to the new interviewer, Jemma Asar, that she can start the interview.
q u i r k y l i t t l e s i s
« J E M M A A S A R »
“Hello everybody, my name is Jemma Asar and with me at this time is The Broken Saint.”
She stopped, most likely waiting for a sign of gratitude - like some wrestlers do give to the interviewer - yet instead received a silently cold expression from the male.
q u i r k y l i t t l e s i s
« J E M M A A S A R »
“Anyway…tomorrow night you get the honour of being Rhiannon’s first opponent since her disappearance…”
★ The Broken Saint ★
“You think I feel honoured?”
Immediately was spoken to break Miss Asar’s words.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“Why do you think I should feel honoured about being viewed as everyone as nothing more than a stepping stone? The last time I checked my contract it never said, under any lines, that I would be a welcome back mat.”
Anger did show in the male’s words yet quickly after saying his words Saint hand his right hand through his hair.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“Sorry…continue.”
q u i r k y l i t t l e s i s
« J E M M A A S A R »
“Well, er, hm, yeah…Rhiannon haven’t wrestled a match in a while yet, with your lack of victories, many are expecting her to leave this arena in victory. So my question is this…what is your game plan going to be entering this big time match tomorrow night?”
★ The Broken Saint ★
“A big time match…you really think a match against somebody who probably still spend her mornings watching Barney the Dinosaur is a big time occasion? Thinking such a thing is an insult to professional wrestling all by itself yet you seriously want me to consider Rhiannon as a big time opponent? Okay…I’ll play along…Rhiannon is a two time World Heavyweight Champion and even managed to pin Shady Layne in the middle the ring, a feat that the likes of Adrian Quinn and Trish Newborn have failed to do more times than anybody could remember. So naturally people would see this match as a chance to clement themselves as a top tier competitor for, in the eyes of many, a victory over somebody like Rhiannon means that you have a bright future. Well here is a question for that many…if beating Rhiannon makes yourself a living legend then what happened to that clown Adrian Jobs? You don’t know? He was the first person to beat Rhiannon, without any help, last year yet now he is a joke without a punch line. How come she was unable to beat Jobs, eh? I’ll let you speculate on that.”
Even though his face could show a thousand expressions his voice was emotionlessly blank yet surprisingly calm as he leaned his side gently against the wall that the both of them were standing near.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“I’m sure that, even though they boo her, many people secretly admire that pasty-faced Alexis Morrison groupie for her times when she battled against Nathan Parker’s hatred towards her division two years ago and for the wars she has waged against Shady Layne, who to this day is nine times out of ten the best wrestler in World Elite Wrestling. But while those people all fixate themselves upon the illusion that Rhiannon is truly I goddess, I prefer to look beyond…look beyond her psychological derailment…look beyond her so-called lust for violence…and look beyond her dear, sweet, candy land. What did I discover once I looked beyond all of that? Who Rhiannon truly is. She might have been in an asylum during her life before, but she ain’t no psycho. She has been trained by a guy who can’t keep his company under control…but she ain’t no world class wrestler. Hell, Miss Leblanc isn’t even a freak of psychological nature. All that Rhiannon is, all that Rhiannon was and all that Rhiannon ever will be is a little girl…a little girl seeking attention yet is quick to magically disappear when things don’t go her way.”
Halfway through his words the Englishman shook his head quite unexpectedly, startling the inexperienced interviewer as his hair now covered a decent portion of his face. A dry chuckle, that left Saint’s lips moments after calling his opponent ‘a little girl seeking attention,’ did send shivers down the redhead’s spine.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“Three years ago she won a shot at the Television Title, lost her shot at the Television Title and disappeared like she was never there in this first place. Then earlier this year she failed to beat Hannah Walters, the only person who can literally be here for years yet only wrestles in a match once in a blue moon, on two occasions she vanished again only to finally come back at Retribution where she got rejected by Chance Rugani…almost as quickly as Chris McKenzie dumped her last year. I won’t ask you if I’m wrong, Jemma, for it’d be wrong to do such a thing to somebody who haven’t got the longevity that I have.”
All of a sudden both of Saint’s hands shot out and grasped onto the interviewer’s shoulders, causing the female to jump as now her nervousness was easy to tell on camera…yet instead of trying to squirm Jemma stayed still, possibly realising that - from his grip alone - that the male is more likely to keep her still, as the British male suddenly dropped down to his knees.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“But if you meet that self-proclaimed Goddess of Adrenaline, ask her if I’m speaking the truth and she answered with no…then she is lying. For, just like a spoilt little child, Rhiannon hates to be reminded of her failures and will even hide in her fantasies and dreams just to block the negativity away. But while she believes in her fantasies and is probably waiting for the day a madman and his blue box arrives to take her through time and space…I live in the real world and the reality is that, this Friday, Rhiannon will get to see me take her dreams, beat it with a crowbar and blow that dream up with its own mother.”
His eyes never once left hers as his hands finally let go of her shoulders. The gleam in her eyes, partly from his Death in the Family reference but mostly from the words ‘madman and his blue box,’ was easy for the male to detect yet Saint chose to drag himself up to his feet, leaning the side of his body against the wall as he did so, instead of making a comment relating to her possible interest.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“What was that question of yours again Jemma Asar? The one you asked me earlier.”
q u i r k y l i t t l e s i s
« J E M M A A S A R »
“M-My que-question…oh y-yeah. W-What is your ga-game plan go-”
★ The Broken Saint ★
“My game plan!”
The redhead’s nervous stumbling and stuttering was immediately cut off by an almost flamboyant sounding sound as those three words snapped out of Saint’s lips like his tongue was a whip of some kind.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“A game plan is an important thing for it is by following a plan to perfection that people, sport related or not, succeed. So what is my game plan to combating Rhiannon? The answer is simple…I don’t have one. Why is that? Just like your obvious hero, I need one tomorrow night for a guy who plans is always the easy one to predict…a guy who never plans anything, however, is the kind of guy you can never be certain of, which is why the trash cans from Scaro is always afraid of the man from Galafrey. But do not think that I am trying to make Rhiannon worry because one of the biggest reasons why I haven’t got a game plan for Rhiannon is this…I don’t need one.”
The laugh that especially the man from Britain’s lips, after saying his last four words, was definitely a major surprise for both the Miss Asar and the cameraman, at least for how positive that laugh sounded compared to his chuckle earlier. While laughing Saint flung his head back, causing his hair to uncover face as - the moment his hair is out of the way - his face suddenly turned to quite a serious expression.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“I don’t need a solid plan to beat Rhiannon. I am stronger than her, I am larger than her, I am more aerial than her, I am more experienced than here and I am smarter than her. She is nothing more than a mere, spoilt, child and tomorrow night I am going to turn this little girl’s comeback, that she might have been planning out in her dreams of candy land, into a living…breathing…nightmare in the middle of the ring. Yes, Rhiannon will most likely disappear once again when I’m done with her but, unlike all those other times she will not be coming back any time soon.”
His final sentence sounded like a promise…a dark promise…yet after saying his words the twenty-four year old moved his hand over to the camera lens, blocking out the light, so that the last thing it could see before the footage ended was simple darkness.
F O R T Y - M I N U T E S - R E M A I N I N G
SEEK ME! CALL ME!
I'LL BE WAITING!!!
Those words, that were blasted out from the PA system, caught the surprise of many people in the Auckland crowd yet the New Zealanders did try their best to cry out those words just as loudly yet some more people in attendance - at this episode of the Friday night pre-show Anarchy - were surprised that instead of ‘The World Belongs To Me’ ‘Playing the Saint’ by Digital Summer began to play shortly after those words were screamed. Out from behind the black curtain emerges the Englishman many knows as Broken Saint. Some members of the crowd did cheer while others didn’t make much of a response as the male quietly made his way down to ringside, unusually ignoring the fans this time round as he immediately slid under the bottom rope and into the ring. Saint then approached the ring announcer and took the microphone from her before telling her to leave the ring. The moment she did the male looked towards the crowd and raised the microphone up.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“So is this as loud as Auckland can go?”
That one comment alone made the people of this New Zealand crowd cheer at a louder volume. However The Broken Saint doesn’t look as amused as any typical baby face would. Instead the male simply leaned back against the nearest turnbuckle.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“For the past month or two I’ve been asked one word many times…why. People ask me why did I injure Brian James…why did I offer no apology…and why, on the night he came back, did I attack his still healing arm. I honestly didn’t think that it was worth answering but, since all you people won’t shut up about it, I’ll finally tell you why. Three words actually…I am sick.”
Now this crowd was beginning to sound a little mixed in their cheers and boos, especially when he sound a bit belittling in the way he said that the fans have been wanting answers from him, yet some people in attendance were beginning to look confused when they heard his three words.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“What? You want a longer explanation? Fine…I am sick…I am so sick…I am so sick of sticking my neck out for all you ungrateful gits.”
Now that comment brought out a decent amount of boos from the people in attendance tonight.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“This time, two years ago, I’ve had arenas cheer for me every time I did something on every weekly show. Yet now all you lazy buggers can’t be bothered to even respond to the intro I’ve had since day one. I have done many things for all you people, I have taken risks that others thought were stupid, I spoke my mind on such a frequent basis that I was classed as a loudmouth and I have even come back from being set on fucking fire. I don’t give a monkey’s arse if this isn’t the right language for the children in attendance for I have so much fucking frustration built up inside of me that I don’t give a shit about all you people for none of you ever gave a shit about me. I can even give you three pieces of goddamn evidence to prove my point.”
The boos were building up with every sentence that departed from the male’s lips yet, unfazed by both this and the fact this is his first ever in-ring promo, Saint simply moved himself up until he was sitting on the top turnbuckle before continuing to speak.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“The first of which was the first Animosity after Legacy of two years ago, when I was actually set on fire by some kid off the street. At least one of you moronic imbeciles could have tried to help me but instead you all watched as I burned into a coma…doing fuck all to help me. The second of which was when I had a heart attack live on-air…a motherfucking heart attack…and you ungrateful sods cared more about your own entertainment over my DAMN life. Oh? You all are booing me now? Why is that? You lot like to cheer when the likes of Calvin Harris and Trish Newborn speaks bullshit after bullshit but when I exercise my freedom of speech to tell you all the truth…you boo me? You are all mindless sheep following false shepherds. What is that? You all still don’t believe me? What about after Beach Brawl last year then!?!”
Luckily the cameras are never on during the pre-show or else they could end up catching some middle fingers that were directed towards the Englishman yet never once did Saint appear affected by this as he was practically shouting down at the New Zealanders here tonight with his first two reasons.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“On that night not only did I take on Chance Rugani for the WEW Championship but I had all you people cheer for me. Yet then, for the following two months, I was pushed off the card. Instead of giving me some opponents for me to face of against the bookers, who were obsessed with Rugani versus McKenzie number eight-thousand, decide to take me off the card altogether. I wasn’t even booked on the fucking pre-show. Yet what hurt me the most was this…none of you people did anything. None of you one chanted my name, none of you tweeted me and none of you even bothered to have a Broken Saint sign up. I use to think that as long as I had all your support that I would be a happy man…I guess I was a fool to have ever had any faith in all you pricks, young and old.”
Does his third reason hold some merit or not? The answer is uncertain yet one thing that was certain was that, with every passing word, Broken Saint’s voice was changing from north-eastern English to something more northern…very northern.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“Do I sound different? Of course I do…when I became a wrestler my trainer went up to me and told me that I would be more marketable as an English guy. But you know what? Screw him, screw the marketing department of this shit-hole, which is still shit even with some new bimbo in charged, and screw all of you, I am a Scotsman and I am sick of pretending to be mister English. Hell, from this day forwards, I am forsaking the fool that I was. I am forsaking the armpit of a country known as England, I am forsaking all of you hypocritical liars who pretend to adore me and I am forsaking The Broken Saint.”
Wait…the Englishman is actually a Scotsman!?! His fans in attendance tonight must have been surprised at that revelation…if they weren’t busy booing the shit out of him as he descended down the corners, quite slowly at that may I add, and onto the mat.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“That is right, you idiots, The Broken Saint is absolutely no more, for I have finally got some sense kicked into my head and tonight is going to be a new start for me. Tonight many people expect me to be a walk in the park for that milk-skinned hooker Rhiannon, cripple her and make damn sure that she will be unable to leave the arena without a goddamn stretcher. I am sick and tired of being some other person’s stepping stone while worthless people like Jaxson Baxter, Chris McKenzie and Adam Banz all leapfrog me to World Title without even once proving their worth to it. So now this stepping stone is going to become a shark and will rip that so-called goddess’ leg right out of damn socket.”
The moment he finished his latest words the guy formerly known as Broken Saint barely heard the faint ‘Rhiannon’ chants that were beginning to be made and grinned at this.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“What is that? You idiots want her to beat me? No wonder nine-tenths of this country’s combined IQ are sheep. She may want to beat me and try to use me as a stepping stone back to greatness but what that raven haired leper needs to realise is that her time is DONE, my time is NOW and I REFUSE to let some mentally confused retard like her rob me of the greatness that I deserve for so DAMN long!”
His first few lines did help make that chant louder before after finish shouting out his last sentence the male flopped down to his knees, leaned his chest against the middle rope and reached his free hand out to grab a nearby camera. He then dragged it in close so it could only see his face, not caring if the camera was on or not, before holding the microphone close to his lips for a final time.
★ The Broken Saint ★
“Heh…heh…heh…sure…your twitter page might say that she has a death wish but is too divine…but what your self-proclaimed divinity means absolutely nothing to me you damn idiot. My name is no longer The Broken Saint…it is now Saint Jericho…and tonight, Rhiannon, not only shall your thirst for self-destruction be quenched by me. But tonight…oh tonight Rhiannon…in front of all these pathetic people in attendance and backstage…I’ll turn you into my
BITCH!”
The moment the male screamed out his final word the Scotsman dropped the microphone on the floor and ‘Playing the Saint’ began to play out from the PA system. Without uttering another word the male dropped down to the mat and rolled out of the ring before beginning to walk up the ramp-way. However he stopped to spot a child with, out of all things, a Rhiannon sign. So, without any warning at all, Jericho snatched the sign out of the child’s hands, ripped the sign in two and threw both pieces on top of the now crying child. This definitely got an ovation of boos from practically everybody in attendance as Saint simply continued to walk up the ramp and through the black curtains, not even bothering to look back towards the Auckland crowd.