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Post by The Age of Fall on Apr 5, 2024 22:48:16 GMT -6
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Post by Victor Kall on Apr 11, 2024 17:28:05 GMT -6
Victor Kall
in
Slave to the Grind Three months. Three months was all it took for Victor Kall to enter the ECWF as an unknown, become the WarTime Rumble winner and main event StarrCade. Not only did he main event, but he won, and took the Horror-Core title as his prize. Just three months to change his entire life.
Had his life changed though? He had more money now, and he was started to get recognized, even when he didn't have his face powdered up. That part made Victor extremely uncomfortable. He normally wore black hoodies around in public anyway, but now he might have to wear oversized sunglasses and a fake moustache. Or grow a moustache. That would take too long; genetically, it took him weeks to grow stubble.
Thankfully, he wouldn't have to go back to New York for quite a while. The entire city made him feel claustrophobic. Los Angeles, despite being the second most populated city in the country, had a much different feel. Everything was more spread out, people kept to themselves more, and it was dreary. New York was all hustle and bustle, people in power suits who drank fancy coffee walking the same streets as people who looked like hope left them in the dust long ago. Out in L.A., there were sections that people kept to. Victor knew what kind of person he was dealing with just by location; therefore, it was easier to keep a low profile. This is why Victor found himself staying in the area of Los Angeles known as Skid Row.
It was an area east and south of downtown Los Angeles, about fifty blocks worth of poverty, homelessness and despair. Down and out was not just an expression, but a visual malaise that its denizens wore on their exhausted faces. These were people who lived out on the streets, and to whom violent crime was just another part of their daily grind. And while the criminal element was prominent and liked to target the broken, the broken themselves typically kept to themselves. It was a place where ten percent targeted the helpless ninety, and Victor often wandered the streets daydreaming about the possibility of those ninety percent rising up to say no more and drive those thugs out with the blunt and sharp ends of whatever makeshift weapons they could find.
If only they had somebody who could inspire them to take arms. Someone like an ECWF champion.
No, Victor thought to himself. He liked this area because people left him alone. He wasn't a crusader; he wasn't a role model or inspirational figure. People died in this area every day, whether it be murder of suicide by syringe. Those people couldn't be saved, and Victor wasn't interested in saving anyone else. He wasn't a straight razor, unless someone got too close.
Victor chose to stay at a place called the Vanguard, which was a no-tell motel mostly populated by pros and whatever johns they found that night. This was the place that Victor chose as his live in, handing the proprietor, an unseemly, middle-aged man that called himself Brutus, a wad of cash that would cover him for two weeks. He would most likely move on after that, but for now, he would have his own room, a window with bars, a bed with a new mattress that Victor paid extra for. He told Brutus that if he found bed bugs in his room, then one night Brutus would awaken with Victor sitting on his chest, like some deranged sleep paralysis demon, and they would have a discussion about the duties of a motel manager.
Having eaten leftover Chinese food from the night before, Victor set about to focus on his match coming up. He would open Revolution after main eventing StarrCade. No matter: he would put on the same type of show. Victor took out the now vintage mini DV that he bought with some of his recent earnings and set it on the small table in the room. A siren in the distance told him that it was time to record.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ From the viewpoint of a small camcorder, viewers can see Victor Kall sitting down on a full-size bed, his back pressed against the wall where a headboard should've been. The room itself is relatively bare other than a bed, a dresser off to the right, a small refrigerator and a table with a couple of chairs. Off to the left, neon light spilled into the room from the barred window, casting shadows and a yellow tinted glow on Victor. The light reflected off of the Horror-Core title, which lay near Victor's knees on his right side. He wasn't looking at anything in particular, certainly not at the camera.
Victor: "I suppose that I should be happier. People have been trying to get ahold of me, mostly wrestling fans that fancy themselves reporters, trying to get my thoughts on the accomplishments I've achieved thus far in ECWF. I've got a shiny title belt to my side, one that best represents the violent nature in man. I expressed that violent nature pretty well in New York City at StarrCade. Jay Reynolds…I guess he did some damage to me that night. Not enough."
He sat forward, reaching out to lightly trace his fingers around the plate of the title belt.
Victor: "I was surprised that the Age of the Fall didn't interfere. I could only assume two things from them letting Jay go it alone. Either they took my warning seriously about me striking down a random member, which they should've, or they just didn't care too much about keeping the title. I guess we could say that option three would be that they thought Jay could beat me on his own, but after everything that I've shown myself to be, was it ever in any doubt? Jay's a fine wrestler, but the Horror-Core title…let's face it, he got thrown into that match with a broken-down Scotty Paine and won a title that he had no business holding. Nobody will ever associate Jay Reynolds with the Horror-Core title, and I don't really think he's going to lose too much sleep over that."
Victor nudges the title off of the bed with his right foot.
Victor: "Me, on the other hand, well the title is merely symbolic. Sure, it's my first title here and sure it should mean something, but ultimately, if I'm not putting the title on the line at every opportunity, then what's the point? I have a match coming up against Angelus at Revolution. Horror-Core rules, but no title on the line. I'd like to change that, if the powers that be can acquiesce. I mean, there's a number one contender match between two people that I beat on the same show, so why not defend against Angelus? He's a big guy, probably bigger than Dark Tiger who was no match for me. I suppose that going against someone named Angelus should cause me to pray; pray that I'll actually be facing someone who will put up a fight. It seems like every time I've stepped in the ring to go up against someone one-on-one, they go into our match with trepidation. They should, because I'm going to hurt them, but seriously, if I'm being completely honest…I'm getting bored."
Victor stood from the bed, going around to pick up the title. He holds it in his hands and stares down at it for a few moments, before holding the title up for the camera to see. He puts his face right over the top of the belt.
Victor: "I'm asking whoever is in charge of making the matches and stipulations on any show that I'm on, please…challenge me! Put me in situations that are as dangerous as possible. Handicap matches, chairs, tables, ladders, thumbtacks, fire, clowns, f*cking clowns on fire! I don't care what you do but make this title that I have mean something. I want opponents who will come at me with reckless abandon. I want to be a part of matches that glass, real glass at that, and don't cry me a river with your excuses as to why it can't happen. Make it happen. If you want to make money off of Victor Kall, then you'll put him in harm's way at every turn. There are fans out there who want to see a freak like me get my ass kicked, and there are those that want to see me take pieces out of my opponents. I can't do that if I'm against people with no heart, like Angelus. I'm sure he'll show up, but that's about all he'll probably do. So, I'm directing this part to Angelus…please, make this a fight. I want to actually give you a chance to win this title, so earn that right. If I don't get a challenge soon, then I'm going to wreak havoc on Revolution. Consider this my formal notice to the roster and anyone on any of ECWF's shows. If you blood, you got it."
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