Match Two: Styles Vs. Kaine

[Kaleb Steele]

RP Limit: 1 Per Character

RP Deadline: September 23rd, 2022 @12am PST

Chris Styles Vs. Darrick Kaine

[Darrick Kaine]

{*Plink* The scene opens in a dark dressing room in the empty, desolate, Amalie Arena in Tampa, Florida *plink* Every couple of seconds, a small metal sound breaks the silence. *plink* The silhouette of a man, sitting in a cold steel chair, reaching up to his head and plucking at something fills the camera shot. *plink* As the camera moves in closer, we see Darrick Kaine, tossing the last thumbtack he can find from his skin into a metal bucket. Trickles of blood run down Darrick’s face and arm, still in his wrestling gear. He looks up to the camera, a look of agitation and a hint of anger on his face. He leans in close, almost whispering}

Darrick: Styles …I can admit, when I’ve been one-upped, and last week’s attack …well, you snuck one in. That match was mine to win. TWICE I had Stalker ready to tap out to Lockdown, and twice you took the cheapshot on me. That DDT on the tacks, and then the chair shot to the head… will not be forgotten, Styles. I do wish you the best of luck in this match, because if and when you get in the ring against me …I’m coming for you, Mr. Styles.

{Just before he starts another thought, his phone buzzes. As he looks down to check the message, he sees the official AXW news release concerning the card at Assault this coming Friday. Darrick grins to the camera, almost a maniacal smile, and stands up to head to the shower room. The camera zooms into the bucket, and we see the metal shimmering red at the bottom of the bucket. The camera fades to black.}

~Part Two~

{The scene picks back up several hours later. It’s now dusk on the cool, rainy, streets of Tampa, Florida. The sky, a mix of black, purple, and blood red, cries down tears of morning agony as a man approaches in a long leather trenchcoat. As the camera zooms in, we see Darrick Kaine, walking in the rain with his head bandaged, his hair slick with the rain. The leather trenchcoat is an old wolf pelt that was passed down through the generations in his family. As he comes to a sheltered bench, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cigar. He sets it on the bench, reaches in his other pocket, and pulls out a bottle of some sort. As he squirts liquid all over the bench and cigar, all you smell is lighter fluid}

Darrick: Styles …I told you last week, that this wasn’t over. I told you that the next time, it was going to be worse for you. This Friday at Assault, we are in a first-round match in the World Heavyweight Title tournament. I’ll be damned if I lose to you. You’ve lost too many matches Styles, some of them by my hands, and at Assault …you can add another to them. Oh, and that loss tonight against my partner Sammeal? I give you credit for that, taking the L because you inflicted pain with your walking stick, the evil in you definitely seeps out of your every pore. No disqualifications this Friday though. You can bring your stick, you can borrow some thumb tacks from Scotty, Hades you can even have your little slave come down and gouge my eyes out… but just like I told you before Styles, you don’t scare me. See, you BETTER bring your stick. You better bring every damn thing you got, because I don’t lose very often. You will get what’s coming to you in due time, but this Firday …I am taking every ounce of my frustration out on you. You stalk your prey, you play mind games with them, and you ARE the big bad wolf. Just like last week at The House Show though, you will be tamed. I will put you down for good Styles, and your hopes of being anything here will be over. Your goal to bring pain to the whole AXW roster, will be over. Your career, your fame, your spell that you have over Management, all that will be over, soon enough. It will all go down in flames …

{Darrick pulls out a book of matches from his jacket and strikes one, using the flame of that to ignite the whole book. He tosses it on the bench which immediately goes up into flames from all the lighter fluid, despite the damp conditions around it. The cigar becomes consumed by the flames, melted cardboard cover, and tobacco. Tears of anguish on the bench. Darrick stares deadly into the camera, as the flames shimmer off his eyes}

Darrick: I intend fully on this weekend being in the fight of my life. There is a good chance I get speared, that I get attacked, or that I get injured. However, I ask you one thing Styles …After I put the Lockdown on you in that ring, there are no rope breaks, nor tap outs. I can twist your neck like a pretzel, as long as I want …how are you going to defeat me??

{Darrick turns away from the roaring fire, now having engulfed the entire bench of sheltered area. It rages in the early morning hours, burning quicker than the rain drops can contain. Darrick walks up the sidewalk to where a street lamp is. Besides the post, is a cold, slick, aluminum ladder. Jack looks up to the top of the ladder, the light metal pipe that glistens against the raindrops as they fall. He puts a hand around it, as he speaks again}

Darrick: I on the other hand Styles, will climb up to my destiny. I will climb up the ladder in the AXW, both figuratively and literally.

{Darrick starts gripping the pipe, with both hands and twists it tightly. His eyes grow narrow, as he looks into the camera to continue}

Darrick: As I make my way up Styles, I will look down on your broken body, a shell of the big bad wolf you thought you once were …and it will be known, I’m the one howling. It will be me, that stalked his prey. It will be me, who snatches that chance to be the World Heavyweight Champion at a later date.

{Darrick’s hands make it to the top of the pipe and pulls himself up on the top of it. Then he sits down, straddling both sides of the warm, burnt bench. His face, the bandage, and the water, brightly shining in the light that is right beside him. He reaches into the coat pocket once more and pulls out a hammer. The flames from the fire are finally starting to die down in the rain that has picked up. Darrick stares down at the camera as it zooms in on his face}

Darrick: Styles, you may think you live your life in darkness. I know you though, the night is fine as long as you have a street light to guide you. When that light goes out, you are just as scared as the average person. See, that fuel you use to spark fear in your opponents, it’s there because you fear it too. I don’t fear it though, I welcome the night. I am comfortable in the dark. It’s how my people survived. It’s how I survive. You may think I am entering your world this week in a match with no rules, but did you ever stop to think that ...it’s actually my world, and I am just allowing you a little bit of light to keep you from tucking your tail …running to hide under your bed? There may be a wolf at my door, but I welcome him, for he is just another pet. When that wolf has overstayed his welcome though? Well, just like that fire burnt out, I will burn out your light Styles. We will see how you really feel about the darkness.

{Darrick now stands up on the top of the shelter, the sheets of rain really beating down hard now. He swings the pipe back, and as he follows through he makes contact with the glass fixture around the street light. It explodes as glass sprinkles everything below, and the scene goes dark now except for the silhouette of Darrick standing high on the shelter with his hands in the shape of a massive fist. The camera zooms back to where the bench was, and we see the charred remains of the cigar while The Ghost Rider is atop the shelter laughing. The scene comes to an end, as flames engulf the entire screen}