| Welcome to Full Intensity Wrestling. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Tick Tock; It's Almost Time | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Mar 26 2005, 01:04 PM (56 Views) | |
| Samoan | Mar 26 2005, 01:04 PM Post #1 |
|
Unregistered
|
"Questions still looming. Answers still in the distance." The blackness fizzles away to show the not so lovely darkness of The Room. In it's ominous red hue, we find Swytch hunched over. His shoulders bob and the muscles in his back flex and relax as he goes to work on something out of our sight. Swytch: Worry not because it's almost time. A faint giggle rises from him like a hot breath in the cold night, disappearing just as quickly as it appeared. Rotating his head Exorcist style, Swytch looks over his shoulder. His eyes gleam in the red glow of The Room and his toothy grin glistens with his saliva. Swytch: The answers will be known...soooooon. He spins his head back around leaving us to view his knotted and tangled black hair. Creeping in closer, the inklings of a squishing sound tickles our ears. Playing rhythmically on our ear drums the squishing grows louder and louder until... SNAP! ...something breaking. The sound so familiar, similar to exaggerated bone breaking effect you hear in the movies. Swytch: Briiighty. Another giggle dances from Swytch's insides. He twists his head around again with his shoulders following slightly behind it. In a surprising twist, Swytch throws in a bit of humor not usually seen by him. Swytch: [English accent]How's ya head, mate?[/English accent] His toothy grin reappears as he chuckles to himself, amused by his own little joke. Slowly he turns his shoulders away and then his head. Swytch: MADison seems to have a disliking for you, Brighty. And here I thought I was her unfavorite. Handicapped and beaten already. Or is that the case? Could you say things are more unfair for me? Chris Maclay and Carlos Kane on my...team. No, no, nooooo. I can see what you've done MADison. Playful little girl, but no more games. Maclay and Kane will get theirs, just as Brighty will. As his voice trails, The Room grows increasingly quieter until a sharp metallic clang rings through. Something begins to scrape along the table that Swytch is hunched over. His hand extends away from his body as he pushes a small metallic bowl away. A few stainless steel instruments peek out over it's rim, as well as something else. The familiar slow ooze of that crimson crude we find so often associated with Swytch. Swytch: Try again, didn't you Maclay? You tried to hit me with a chair. I had beaten you...AGAIN...and again you barely escape with your tail tucked between your legs. A whipped dog, Maclay. That's all you are. Not so different from Hype. The flash and the show but I can see he's nothing but a scared little child. The time is coming for you two, much like it has for Brighty. Those at the top are falling. One by one they fall from grace. Spiraling down into the oblivion of my insanity, held down by my filthy hands. Climbing to the top, I'm getting closer and closer, breathing down your neck...Jim O'Brien. How much longer can you hide from me? Brighty and Maclay thought they could hide too but they find themselves in my sights. Swytch's head rises from his work. His shoulders fall limply in their sockets as he shuffles sideways toward the end of the table. Reaching out he flips a handle and water begins to trickle from a faucet. He extends his hands, washing them clean under the cold water then he flips the handle again. He gives his hands a quick shake then turns around to face the viewing public. Swytch: The wicked will thrive in the waves of my havoc. The foundations of sanity are crumbling beneath our feet. What heroes are left to face me? Kennedy? Silent Rage? Chris Maclay? Carlos Kane? Jim O'Brien? Viiiiinj? None of them can beat me without sinking to the levels they THINK I reside on. How quickly they reach for the steel. How much longer can they hold the ropes before getting pulled away. Doesn't it trouble you that the one person here thought to be a cheater and a garbage wrestler is the only one who plays fairly? And that makes me hated. Because the truth is that I am SUPERIOR to their heroes and legends. When the time comes, the answers will come to them as well. The ever changing tide will bring them to the shores of my existance and everybody will know then what it is I've know since November 7, 2004. That I am undeniably the most RELENTLESS monster to stain the rings of TNT. Swytch turns away again. He fiddles along the table, scratching his nails along it's surface and irritating our ears with a horrid sound. Reaching the point he stood at before, Swytch lifts something from the table. Slowly and painfully he turns again... ...drip...drip...drip... ...drip...drip...drip... ...in his hands we see his creation. The mangled form of what was once a living creature of God now crudely afixed to the face of a clock. The creatures arms sickly clicking along with the clock's hands. The creature's insides spilling out lewdly over the numbers, it's blood smeared about the face. Swytch: The clock is ticking. It's almost time. Time to come out and play. Swytch's chest heaves, his neck tenses and a giggles spill forward from his lips. The clock in his hands strikes the hour, a little door opening and what you would assume to be a little bird coming out is actually a head...a rat's head. It's tongue hangs loosely from it's mouth as Swytch begins to make "cuckoo" sounds between his giggling. ...Fade... |
|
|
| « Previous Topic · TNT Roleplays · Next Topic » |
| Theme: Zeta Original | Track Topic · E-mail Topic |
7:05 PM Jul 11
|





7:05 PM Jul 11