Post by sybyl on Sept 3, 2016 17:53:36 GMT
The feeble light of a fire burning in an what looks like an ancient bronze brazier barely lits an empty room with naked stone walls. The sizzle of flames consuming the charcoals is the only sound that can be heard, marking the time passing. Suddenly a figure emerges from fhe shadows walking inside the framing from the left side with a very slow and methodical pace. His face is concealed by a hood covering his head. After some seconds of absolute silence in a deep calm voice, he eventually starts speaking.
Life can hit you pretty hard. Harder than any blow you inevitably take in a wrestling match. Or after it.
When all your plans blow up, when whatever drives and motivates you in your life is took away from the grasp of your hand just when you are inches away from finally achieving your goals, the sense of frustration and disappointment becomes overwhelming.
It’s nothing new for me, I already went through all of this the day I discovered the Truth, embraced it and made it the north star leading my way through the darkness of my life.
When all your plans blow up, when whatever drives and motivates you in your life is took away from the grasp of your hand just when you are inches away from finally achieving your goals, the sense of frustration and disappointment becomes overwhelming.
It’s nothing new for me, I already went through all of this the day I discovered the Truth, embraced it and made it the north star leading my way through the darkness of my life.
She gave me a mission, something to believe in and to fight for, a foothold i could always hang on, a safe haven in this world of liars, a mission.
She brought me into this world, in Truth I reborn into this new incarnation.
I became Sybyl.
The mouthpiece of Truth.
A wrestler.
The mouthpiece of Truth.
A wrestler.
He drops the hood, revealing the familiar masked face of the former BFW superstar Sybyl. His hair are now shorter then as we remember, but that deep, smart look behind his blue eyes doesn’t leave any shade of a doubt. The tone of his voice is always the same, now just with a hint of melancholy in it.
I never wanted to become a wrestler. The mere idea of hitting another human being, and do it in front of a cheering crowd disgusted me. But I couldn’t ignore the call of Truth, and what I thought it was meant to be my world, with all his shining lights and deafening sounds, with all those men and women so blatantly lying to themselves, to each other and to all those people worshipping the personas they portray, unable to see their really being through all the deceptions.
I am the first one to admit, i was enjoying my time in BFW. It seemed like the way to go on the path of my life, the natural course to fulfill my destiny, an essential stop to spread the Truth.
With all its variegated array of humanity, people like Jack Colter, in desperate need of a helmsman able to drive them back into the safe harbor of their previous life, before the currents of lies they have been fed would eventually drive them against the reef.
And of course, people who elevated lies to a form of art, becoming so used to those lies to convince themselves they lleft their past behind for good, that they can walk around the place fooling everyone.
Not me.
It doesn’t matter how deep is the hole you dug to hide your past. If someone knows exactly where to start using the shovel, it’s just a matter of time before he can bring it back to light.
Hearing the company closed down while I was recovering from my injury was an hard blow. Just as hard as Kveldvuv’s massive fist connecting with the back of my head, knocking me down.
With the only difference that this time I saw it coming.
Only a fool couldn’t have noticed the signals, starting from the lack of a strong leadership, the power struggle between mr Adler and the man he put in command, the anarchy and sense of impunity spreading in the locker room. And the biggest cancer of them all.
LIES.
In nowadays society, lies are tolerated, even encouraged sonetimes. Professional liars can be found on the highest ranks of politic, army, industry. This is the world we have come to live in. A place where we teach children that white lies are the best way not to hurt someone’s feelings.
Forgetting to tell them that sooner or later, they must deal with the consequences.
Every lie comes with a price, and the toll grows as time goes by. Until the weight becomes unbearable, crushing us and those we love.
All those dirty secrets, all these plots behind closed doors, all the unholy alliances built on nothing but opportunism and therefore destined to implode, all this thirst for something ephemeral like the control of a wrestling promotion… All these symptoms couldn’t mean anything good.
I just thought I had more time to try to fight it.
I just thought I could still save it.
I was wrong.
And now I feel empty, lost, without a purpose.
I feel like I failed myself
AND TRUTH.
I feel like I failed myself
AND TRUTH.
I just can’t do this anymore, I don’t have the strength to start it all kver again. And anyways, it would be pointless.
It feels like my soul has been stabbed and it keeps bleeding, with nothing iI can do to heal this wound.
Slowly, he turns his back to the camera. Behind his head, aided by the short hair, a massive scar is still visible, everlasting memory of the Supremacy attack on BFW’ last night.
Sone wounds take a lot of time to heal.
With a swift gesture he removes the mask covering his face, dropping it on the floor.
Some never do.
Without turning, keeping his identity concealed he walks away. His footsetps echo in the dark room, until his silhouette disappears at the end of a hallway. It’s only then that we become aware of another presence, hidden in the shadows left to where Sybyl was. As he walks into the framing, there’s no doubt he is the same big bald man that carried the Mouthpiece Of Truth’s motionless body out of Redemption’s ring, before paramedics could check on him.
Shaking his head, he bends down and picks up the mask, following Sybyl into the darkness