Post by Danjon no Unmei on May 7, 2019 21:51:54 GMT -5
The dark wizard GRIM sits on his throne, watching the undead monster, Tiger Mask Undead chasing after rats and terrifying many of GRIM’s followers. The sight of it all brought a sick, delighted smile to his face. He didn’t pretend to understand how Tiger Mask Undead even existed, not it’s creator Esior the Necromancer for that matter, but neither did such things concern him at this point. There would be time to contemplate such mysterious at a later date. For now, if brought him great pleasure in the chaos that his monster was creating for Jacob Hammerstein and for all those who he cared for.
The wizard laughing recalling the look on Hammerstein’s face when Tiger Mask Undead tore up from beneath the ring and wrapped his chain on the Unified World Champion’s throat. Watching the life slowly being squeezed out of his bitter rival’s body more than made up for the loss he had suffered moments earlier at Hammerstein’s feet. What made it that much sweeter was the fact that Hammerstein, once he had recovered would turn the blame on the man they had both once called friend, Eli Buchanan. Naturally Buchanan denied such accusations but the stories he tried to pass off as truth were met with ridicule by his peers and doubt from Hammerstein. All GRIM needed was to push them both a bit closer towards the edge of madness and they would jump into the abyss on their own.
GRIM rubbed his jaw and cursed under his breath. Despite attempting to brush off the bitter loss to Hammerstein as a simple set back, it truly bothered him. To be humiliated in such a way in front of his countrymen like that enraged him. It filled him with such anger that he had sent his man of his disciples so as not to take his rage out on them. He needed them to stay loyal to him for the plans he was assisting Esior in completing, whatever they might me.
His thoughts turned to Esior. What were his plans any way? He knew who the masked necromancer was, had recognised his voice the moment he had begun to speak, but he didn’t understand why Esior was more obsessed with seeing Hammerstein fall than he himself was. The day was coming that he would force the necromancer to reveal his true purpose and if he did not, then he would reveal Esior’s secret to the world!
“But that is for another day,” a voice whispered in his ear, “Concentrate on Hammerstein. Concentrate on Buchanan. The must be destroyed. They must be brought to their knees!”
GRIM nodded absently, ignoring the fact that there was clearly no one beside him. The voice was right, he needed to destroy Hammerstein to insure the necromancer’s plans came to completion (What are those plans again? It doesn’t matter, don’t concern yourself with them, my friend.) He had heard that Hammerstein was relishing the idea of facing him on every night of the upcoming tour, but it was GRIM who truly was looking forward to these battles. In every match, win, lose or draw, GRIM would slowly break Hammerstein down, mind, body and soul. He would attack not just his already breaking body, but his near shattered mind as well. If it meant her needed to sacrifice those of his followers that were teaming with him during these events, so be it. Their sacrifices would be for the greater good of the Demon Brigade (and don’t forget for Esior the Necromancer, my friend. Yes, yes, for Esior as well.)
A cry startled him from his contemplation and he looked up in time to witness Tiger Mask Undead corner when of his followers and was trying to bite the man’s arm. GRIM quickly rose from his thrown and ran across the room, scooping up the monster’s chain and pulling it away from its intended victim. The man quickly scurried off as Tiger Mask Undead spun on the dark wizard and started yelling at him incoherently.
“Save your hunger for Hammerstein’s flesh, my pet,” GRIM told him in a soothing tone, “Wait a little longer and I will give that pig’s brain to you as a treat. Oh, won’t that be a sight for his wife and child to witness.”
He started to laugh as Tiger Mask Undead calmed down and he went back to his thrown to contemplate what was to come and what Esior’s plans were. (Patients, my friend, you’ll learn soon enough.)
The wizard laughing recalling the look on Hammerstein’s face when Tiger Mask Undead tore up from beneath the ring and wrapped his chain on the Unified World Champion’s throat. Watching the life slowly being squeezed out of his bitter rival’s body more than made up for the loss he had suffered moments earlier at Hammerstein’s feet. What made it that much sweeter was the fact that Hammerstein, once he had recovered would turn the blame on the man they had both once called friend, Eli Buchanan. Naturally Buchanan denied such accusations but the stories he tried to pass off as truth were met with ridicule by his peers and doubt from Hammerstein. All GRIM needed was to push them both a bit closer towards the edge of madness and they would jump into the abyss on their own.
GRIM rubbed his jaw and cursed under his breath. Despite attempting to brush off the bitter loss to Hammerstein as a simple set back, it truly bothered him. To be humiliated in such a way in front of his countrymen like that enraged him. It filled him with such anger that he had sent his man of his disciples so as not to take his rage out on them. He needed them to stay loyal to him for the plans he was assisting Esior in completing, whatever they might me.
His thoughts turned to Esior. What were his plans any way? He knew who the masked necromancer was, had recognised his voice the moment he had begun to speak, but he didn’t understand why Esior was more obsessed with seeing Hammerstein fall than he himself was. The day was coming that he would force the necromancer to reveal his true purpose and if he did not, then he would reveal Esior’s secret to the world!
“But that is for another day,” a voice whispered in his ear, “Concentrate on Hammerstein. Concentrate on Buchanan. The must be destroyed. They must be brought to their knees!”
GRIM nodded absently, ignoring the fact that there was clearly no one beside him. The voice was right, he needed to destroy Hammerstein to insure the necromancer’s plans came to completion (What are those plans again? It doesn’t matter, don’t concern yourself with them, my friend.) He had heard that Hammerstein was relishing the idea of facing him on every night of the upcoming tour, but it was GRIM who truly was looking forward to these battles. In every match, win, lose or draw, GRIM would slowly break Hammerstein down, mind, body and soul. He would attack not just his already breaking body, but his near shattered mind as well. If it meant her needed to sacrifice those of his followers that were teaming with him during these events, so be it. Their sacrifices would be for the greater good of the Demon Brigade (and don’t forget for Esior the Necromancer, my friend. Yes, yes, for Esior as well.)
A cry startled him from his contemplation and he looked up in time to witness Tiger Mask Undead corner when of his followers and was trying to bite the man’s arm. GRIM quickly rose from his thrown and ran across the room, scooping up the monster’s chain and pulling it away from its intended victim. The man quickly scurried off as Tiger Mask Undead spun on the dark wizard and started yelling at him incoherently.
“Save your hunger for Hammerstein’s flesh, my pet,” GRIM told him in a soothing tone, “Wait a little longer and I will give that pig’s brain to you as a treat. Oh, won’t that be a sight for his wife and child to witness.”
He started to laugh as Tiger Mask Undead calmed down and he went back to his thrown to contemplate what was to come and what Esior’s plans were. (Patients, my friend, you’ll learn soon enough.)