December 17, 2017, 04:02:10 AM

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General Discussion / Vip стоматология
« Last post by Dentalwef on December 16, 2017, 09:46:54 PM »
Платная стоматология Стоматология Медсервис Профи. Все прекрасно понимают, как важно бережно относиться к своему здоровью, в том числе и зубов. Но очень часто страх перед самой процедурой лечения, перед установкой и клиника лазерной стоматологии
General Discussion / XEvil solve 99% types of captcha
« Last post by Mashawhare on December 04, 2017, 09:01:26 AM »
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General Discussion / Re: A SHOOTing question
« Last post by J on April 06, 2017, 10:45:25 PM »
I'd like to say I think it will one day and you can never say never with B, myself, and the rest of this group, but I'm pretty happily out of the game for now and unless something changes I think I'll stay that way for awhile.
General Discussion / A SHOOTing question
« Last post by Justice on March 30, 2017, 06:29:03 PM »
Will SHOOT Project ever return?

The Epicenter / Prisoners Pt. 7 (His Mistake and His Cage)
« Last post by Boyer on June 16, 2016, 01:46:42 AM »
At least one hundred strands of pecan hair fluttered in the air, divorcing themselves from others similar, still resting peacefully upon a nearly perfect scalp.  Turqouise blue eyes peered wistfully into the distance, which consisted of limousines, upscale sedans, sports cars and, predominantly, tractor trailers adorned with the letters AODWF, an acronym emblazoned on top of a wispy haired skull, skinned to the bone, yet retaining lifelike, contemplative, conjuring eyes. His face was the prototype of any rookie’s.  The eblem's face, as it seemed, was relative to any veteran's.

Unscathed, unmarked, and unscarred.


Wartorn, maddened, and sinister.

Erik Boyer was actually rather handsome.  Recognizable mostly by his eyes, as his head, known to those with relatively vested interest these days, was now clean shaven; his face marred by war wounds.  Without such blemishes to speak of at that time, Erik's mind was not weighed by scartissue, but by a collection of crossroads. He contemplated the opportunities, or what he might call “duties,” before him at that moment in time.  He breathed in deep, as deep as he could, before releasing carbon dioxide back into his vehicle and the Earth's atmosphere.  His face resembled that of a man wracked with nerves and concern. Cronos had not steered him wrong thus far, so why question his logic and wisdom now?


That’s why.

Without warning, his abdomen spasmed and he retched forward, stopping the vomit from its intended meeting with the steering wheel and windshield behind it with tightly pursed lips.  As he choked back his nearly regurgitated sirloin, cooked rare, a rapping occurred to his right, on the passenger side door. Mere moments later, Cronos slid into Boyer’s car and looked over at his young protege.

Cronos Diamante: How you doin’, Erik?

Cronos knew the answer to the question already but asked merely out of formality. He knew Erik would give him some sort of classic stoner answer. Or so he thought.

Erik Boyer: Good. Fine. I- uhm...I- uh...I don’t know, man. I- I- I don’t know. Not feelin’- uhm- one hundred percent confident in this whole deal. Crucifixion? That’s uh-

Boyer breathed deep into his chest, as deep as he could- it almost made him retch again.

Erik Boyer: Dude, Jesus was crucified. Jesus Christ. You think crucifixion, you think Jesus. Kygon is a lot of things, but he’s not Jesus. Buddy, I don’t even know that I, or even we, can show our faces in public after this. This isn’t just a message. It’s- and I’m not a religious guy, you know that- but, it’s- to a lot of folks- it’s blasphemy. It’s kinda fucking with me a little bit, to be honest.

Cronos chuckled at Boyer’s youthful mistaken comment. He didn’t mean to chuckle but he couldn’t help it. Cronos turned more toward Erik and put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him because he knew the chuckle was making him angry and uneasy all at the same time.

Cronos Diamante: Listen, Erik… to your youthful and naive mind, crucifixion is probably all about Christianity and Jesus Christ and all the bullshit you were brought up on in Boston growing up. I get that. I was brought up on it to being a kid from the Bronx and my mother being a devout Catholic but that’s not what Crucifixion is for. The Romans used it to punish people severely. They used it on slaves and in very special cases when they wanted to make an example of certain people.

Cronos paused a moment to let that sink into Erik’s brain and took his hand off his shoulder. He kicked back the chair he was sitting in and stared up at the ceiling. He could feel Erik’s eyes on him, wanting more than what he was given.

Cronos Diamante: If the romans wanted to deal with someone, really deal with them and get it over with they could simply execute the man or woman and behead them. Done and done. But crucifixion made an example of you. If you ran from your masters, for example. Or… you did something so against the state of Rome you deserved to be put up on a cross for the whole of the empire to see. OutKast needs to be made an example. Make no mistake about it, Erik…. He’s an enemy of the state of AODWF AND the wrestling industry as a whole. He took your woman from you. He did it because he could. Because he thinks he can have what he wants. His greed must be punished and there is no other way I can find more fitting than putting the son of a bitch on a cross and showing that off to the entire world. Take Christianity and Jesus out of it. Do you understand why now?

Boyer nodded, slowly, at everything Cronos educated him on. He bit his upper lip and allowed his nostrils to flare a bit, but he let his mentor finish. When he had done as such, Boyer allowed his right hand to come from the top of his head, down onto the steering wheel- hard.

Erik Boyer: Fine! Fine! Fine. Fine. A million people could have been crucified in the history of life. Personally, I only know the name of ONE of those people. Jesus fucking Christ. In doing this, it’s- it’s fucked up on so many levels. We blaspheme, maybe not technically, but to most of the public- like me- who don’t know a damned thing about it being a form of corporal or capital or connifuckinglingal punishment- and know it as how humanity disposed of the man we’ve been raised to attempt to emulate. We don’t do it, but we know we’re supposed to. That’s why we feel guilty 99% of the time.

Running his hands through his long, dark brown hair and brushing them over his nearly perfect lips, allowing them to stop on the stubble he had accrued upon his chin, Boyer continues.

Erik Boyer: Even if I said, “fuck that,” like you know I fucking would...I don’t want to make that pompous, piece of shit, cocksucking, motherfucking cunt Kygon appear to be “Christ-like.” You follow me? It’s HIM who needs to pay, not be glorified. Not for being a womanizing...FUCK!

Cronos slapped Erik across the face one time, hard.

Cronos Diamante: Snap out of it. This isn’t about glorifying him. This is about punishing him. Lesser beings with the mental acumen of an ant can think we made him a martyr and think he’s some scion. We’re doing this to prove a point. That he can’t walk all over men like you who just come into this business. You will be remembered for this. Do you fucking understand me, Erik?

Eyes filled with contempt, Erik snapped his face toward Diamante, but only for a moment, before he looked on in the same manner he had been, as he listened to The Devil preach. He understood. He understood, very well. His lips curled in and his face tightened all over, before loosening, then stiffening again.

Young Erik Boyer was trying not to cry in front of his mentor. But the tears, had they come, wouldn’t have been melancholy or shameful in nature. On the contrary, Boyer had just been dutifully reminded why they were here to do what they were here to do in the first place.

It evoked emotion, to say the least.

Erik Boyer: He took her. We had a fight. I was kind of an asshole ONCE, that she knew of, and he swooped in and stole her from the safety of THESE-

He pounded at his biceps and shoulders.

Erik Boyer: LOVING. ARMS. NO ONE will or could ever love Julie like I love that fucking woman.

A slight whimper is masked by a guttural roar.

Erik Boyer: FUCKING MOTHERFUCKER!!!! FUCK!!! He’s gotta die, Cronos, he’s gotta fucking die. He’s gotta die.

With the speed of a viper attacking its prey, Boyer had a hold of Diamante’s shirt.

Erik Boyer: Not a fucking THING happens to her, you got me? Julie doesn’t get hurt, alright, dude? I don’t care WHAT happens, my baby doesn’t have one hair on her head harmed. I’ll fucking kill whoever makes that fucking mistake, you dig?!

Cronos looked down at his shirt and to Boyer’s hands on said shirt and his mind started racing. What exactly had just snapped inside this kid? There was no mention ever in the plan of Julie getting hurt and here he was trying to affirm that she wouldn’t be. It gave way to Cronos believing Erik wanted to hurt her, otherwise he wouldn’t have mentioned it. He was trying to make himself believe he didn’t want her hurt but deep down he did and the look in his eye confirmed it.

Cronos Diamante: She doesn’t get hurt. Now take your hands off me, Erik. Now!

Erik did as he was told, not realizing he had snapped just now.

Cronos Diamante: She’s trapped under Sean’s spell, Erik. She’ll come back, dude. You need to cement that in your brain. She’ll realize that after we put him on display and punish him for the greedy bastard he is. Ok, man?

Cronos wasn’t saying that to make Boyer believe she was coming back. He knew she wasn’t. It didn’t matter what happened to OutKast at this point in time. The only thing he knew was that Julie would never return to Boyer, not now and not ever. The only thing that might happen is her leaving OutKast and never coming back to the wrestling world again. But Boyer needed to believe she would or Julie was at risk.

Cronos Diamante: Erik!

Cronos’ future tormentor nearly jumped out of his skin- and thoughts- at the sharp mention of his name. Diamante’s words coarsed through Boyer’s twenty three year old brain. They made sense, yet didn’t at the same time. No one in the world- except, perhaps, for Cronos, given a clue in  the last forty seconds- knew of the battle that would rage inside of Boyer’s mind for years to come- one that, almost certainly, had been hotly contested for years, now.  Boyer was a master chameleon. He fit in with everyone and most tended to like him, even considered themselves his friend.

Not one of them knew who he really was.

Except for, of course, possibly Cronos. That’s why he apologized.

Erik Boyer: I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean- she just means so, so, so, so fucking much to me, and when she left- when she left with him? A guy I knew, relati- when she left Sean...when she left FOR Sean...I don’t- she’ll be back. I’m sorry, again. You’re right, though, she- she’ll be back. This isn’t her fault, Cronos. Not even a little bit. Not even a fucking inch is it her fault. People cheat all the time. I did it to her- but, but, but she didn’t ever know- doesn’t matter. As long as he dies and she’s not scarred for life afterward, we’ll be fine. And she won’t be. She knows I’ll always take her back. Even after she’s had that mulat- even after Kygon. She knows I’m here. Just like I always have been.

Boyer rubs knuckles into each of his eyes.

Erik Boyer: Always fucking , fucking will be.

A loud, somewhat blocked inhalation can be heard from the long haired, blue eyed, young man.

Erik Boyer: So, anyway, I know we talked about it a few times, but I have the memory of a goddamned gnat, so- after tonight, Cronos, after we make history, what, uh...what…

He trailed off while he looked at his somewhat paternally inclined friend, asking him subliminally for him to finish, then answer the question. It was clear from his eyes, a nearby streetlamp shining from them, that his emotions had begun taking over the rest of his mental faculties.

Cronos Diamante: We rejoice, Erik. We rejoice and reap the benefits of being the man who took down the so called God named OutKast.

Boyer had the urge to question the god comparison, but at that moment in time, no longer cared to do so. He just wanted Sean Kygon to be ended. Destroyed. Pathetic to men and, lord willing, useless to women.

Erik Boyer: Okay. I dig it. Not a bad career move, I guess. Not to mention, it’ll have to show Julie that he’s not the man he’s leading her to believe she is. He’s not. She’s under- like you said- under some kind of spell. That ends, tonight, but Cronos, I swear to all things holy, some of which, we desecrate tonight, that if she or…

He swallows deeply, looking at the lamppost from the left corner of each eye, the harsh reality that Julie is pregnant with Kygon’s child rushing in, all at once. He couldn’t look at anything but the most blinding light he could find. It still wasn’t bright enough.

Erik Boyer: Or that...kid. That...child. That piece of her. If either of them- know what I’m saying. I’ll kill any one of you motherfuckers, and if you look into my eyes, you know it’s true.

Cronos Diamante: No harm comes to Julie, Erik. Period. Those were my conditions when we started this. That can’t change now. Not for any reason. I may be a vile, conniving son of a bitch but I don’t hurt innocents.


The smile wouldn’t fade. He had just crucified a man, with the help of Cronos Diamante and others- some good, some bad- a group called the Shades of Gray. The man crucified was Sean “OutKast” Kygon. That man stole his most prized possession, Julie, who he then deemed desirable to impregnate with the child Erik and Julie had dreamed of having just months into their six year relationship.  All because, well, as far as Erik Boyer and Cronos Diamante were concerned, it was because he could. He learned that those types of actions on his Earth, on Erik Boyer’s planet, would not be tolerated.

Erik didn’t think he needed to feel bad about the lesson he taught the pro-wrestling demigod and fan favorite.

Hitting his former longtime, pregnant girlfriend in the stomach with a steel chair.

For that, he felt he should feel a hint of remorse.

He didn’t.

Not even a little bit.

Good riddance to the little abomination.

Now, when Julie comes back, they can start on a brand new leaf.

No complications.

No mixed emotions.

Aside from when he hit her unborn baby with a chair.

He laughed to himself.

Seeds were sown. 

Lines drawn.

Identifications of his willpower, of his strength, of his capability- those were all made.

The night was a resounding success, and as he sat peering into the city sky, he realized that he had never felt better. Cronos, on the other hand, felt completely different. The night was a complete failure for him. Sure he held Julie down but it’s not like he could have stopped and not done it at that point. It was too far into the show to just not do it. He couldn’t have stopped it if he wanted to. But he could do something about it. Cronos practically kicked the hotel door room down and had Boyer held by the throat against the wall, fiery hell burning in his eyes.

Cronos Diamante: What! THE! HELL!

Cronos punched the wall next to Boyer, leaving a hole in the wall.

Cronos Diamante: I told you Julie was not to be harmed. I fucking warned you, Erik. This was not about hurting her for choosing someone else, this was about hurting OutKast and punishing him for his transgressions! YOU MADE A MOCKERY OUT OF WHAT WAS SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN TONIGHT!

Cronos noticed that Erik couldn’t break Cronos’ hold at this point, the adrenaline inside the pissed off Cronos was too strong and he released Erik. Erik crumpled to the ground and Cronos fell to the ground right along with him, slunk up against the bed.

Cronos Diamante: Why did you do it, Erik? Why! I want answers and I want them now. If I don’t get them…. I…. I don’t know what I’ll do. I just… you disgrace us…. I…

Cronos’ voice trailed off as he stared a hole through Boyer, a man feeling betrayed by the man he elevated to stardom with one single brilliant moment. Only it wasn’t so brilliant due to Boyer’s greed and viciousness.  Boyer wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t emitting any kind of negatively charged emotion, either.  He looked at his mentor, rolled his eyes, over which his hands were soon placed, and shrugged his shoulders.

Erik Boyer: Because I could. OutKast took from me because he could. Julie left me, because she could. You talked me into crucifying the man, because you could. Everyone I feel something for in my life, romantically with Julie, platonically- whatever, “friend-wise,” with you, and former acquaintance turned arch enemy, OutKast. Every one of you did something to me because you could. I did what I did to Julie...because I could. Because, damn it, I knew you wouldn’t stop me. Not that far into things. You try to stop me, and your plan falls to shit. You look like an asshole.

The last statement made had all the sarcasm behind it that Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert put together could muster. His head, resting on the fresh, tightly made beige bedspread, rolled to the right, away from Cronos.

Erik Boyer: Man, I’m sorry to do that to you, you know? I don’t dig backstabbing. Out of everyone, I fucked you least. I was just tired of getting fucked with. It wasn’t a plan, either, man, you remember how concerned I was that Julie not get hurt. As soon as those lights hit, though, and everything got moving and the cross was there, the crown of thorns- and I saw her begging for HIS LIFE?!!? I was the one she was supposed to beg for. I was the one who’s spent endless nights awake, fucking crying, man, wishing she’d come home. It was OUR relationship she desecrated when she let that Mulatto come inside of her. Shit, man, I lost it- but I wasn’t blind, ya know?

He scratched his throat and snuck a peek at a seething Cronos, before he looked back at the wall.

Erik Boyer: I remember my thought process. I remember everything, thank god. I’m sure I’ll repent someday. Someday real soon, considering my Catholic guilt, but tonight? I made a man’s decision and I followed through with it. I delivered my decree, and you, my friend, helped me do it. I understand if you’re mad. Don’t be, though. Enjoy this feeling with me. Feels like omniscience.

Cronos stood up and glared down at Boyer with a hatred and anger he’d never felt before. He shook his head, disappointed with himself and the man he was trying to teach. Tonight he had failed to understand the lesson. He failed the test. The entire test was not hurting Julie whether he knew it or not.

Cronos Diamante: Tell the Christian in you that one day you’re going to have a coming to Jesus moment. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, Erik. What you’ve done tonight may come back to haunt even me but the difference between you and I is I’ll always know that I deserve whatever comes at me and I won’t ever make this mistake again. This part of me that I’ve been using to teach you needs to be caged and never used again. From now on it’s a prisoner in a war that can’t ever continue. So you say you fucked me over the least but in reality, you’ve just crippled apart of me. You get to live with that, Erik.

Laughter exploded straight toward the ceiling, emanating from Boyer’s head, parallel with hotel’s roof.

Erik Boyer: Ha ha ha! I get to live with a lot of stuff that happened, tonight, Cronos. I’ll wake up tomorrow and wonder just what the hell I’ve- WE’VE done. I’m a good person, Cronos, you know that. Ha ha ha ha! I’m not evil. I just did an evil thing that I can’t ever take back. But sure, I guess you can lead a horse to water, but fail to make him drink. Well, I drank. I drank too much. And for that, you decide it’s time to crawl inside of a cage- the real you, the only you I know- the you that strikes fear in the hearts of gods- the you that taught me the power of that fear- you’re gonna take that you, the same you that watched me with those eyes and held her down with those arms- dismantle the world around me- you’re gonna take THAT you- ha ha ha ha- your ball and go the fuck back to your fucking eternal cage? Impossible. Maybe, I showed the world and myself who I really am- time’ll tell. But, you know who you are- YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. That? Who you really are? You can hide him, but not forever. Took me twenty three years to show what I’m capable of- once you act on capability, you adopt ownership of its properties. I get that now.

He shakes his head.

Erik Boyer: Prisoner in a war that can’t- bullshit. The war has begun and souls are on the line. You’re gonna bench the monster- the devil, that got you there? Look at what I did tonight, then take a close, hard look at the smile on my fucking face- this is a smile that YOU KNOW! Before guilt inevitably kicks in and the adrenaline of a righteousness, maybe known only to me, fades, for now, I’m happy. I realize now, shit, I’ve never been happier. Because I became what you made me. A devil. Now, sure, go find your fucking cage. Lock yours up. Don’t need him anymore, now that the world has me. I failed- fucking horseshit. You failed. Not sure the Shades of Gray will wanna take orders from me, though, so you best find your fucking mask, too.

Cronos shook his head and went to speak but instead, walked out of the room leaving Erik Boyer there alone to contemplate what he was being told. Not that it hadn’t gone in one ear and right out the other but Cronos would have to live with that and he wouldn’t allow himself to bring this kind of suffering to the world again. The cage would have to do.
The Epicenter / Fear [Part 3]
« Last post by Cronos Diamante on June 16, 2016, 12:05:38 AM »
Hours After Revolution: The Ghost and Darkness

The clouds had rolled in with alarming speed as the humidity ascended. By early afternoon the skies opened in a torrent. Thick leaves rustled violently as they were battered by fat droplets and mud slipped into streams that snaked around with a forceful current. The loud hiss of the downpour drowned out the city sounds of Tokyo, Japan. Cronos sat at the edge of the street as the rain spattered down on him, uncaring and shaken to his core that Marcus Mirage had been taken by Erik Boyer. Minutes passed that seemed like hours, hours passed that seemed like days and finally the rain slowed to a drizzling pace. Men and women passed him by on the streets whispering disconcerting comments, some wondering if he had gone mad judging by the look in his eyes.

Darkness had fallen now and the sky was a soft purple, a harbinger of oncoming night. A gentle breeze felt upon Cronos’ face had somehow dispersed his hopeless mood of the previous hours and he stood, backing up into the wall behind him. He stood alone at half-moon amid a thick blanket of dim stars, pallid and ghostly in the dusk. In the distance he caught sight of three Japanese men in black suits, watching him carefully. He knew why they were. The man they remembered Cronos to be wasn’t the regretful, torn, contemplative man he’d become. Rather they remembered him as someone who seemed half-animal, a being of primal energy capable of shocking viciousness.

Their presence had proven to give him an idea, bold as it may be. Cronos pushed himself off the wall and crossed the street to their position. The older men were slightly intimidated, knowing what he was capable of. The younger man didn’t flinch. He would be the one to take him to Yokohama to call in his last favors with The Yakuza.

Cronos Diamante: Take me to Kawada.

The mere mention of Kawada shook the younger man’s resolve and Cronos was met with a short bow. The short bow was more of a formality than actual respect given the lack of depth but Cronos didn’t care. He needed to see Keichi Kawada, former chief of security of The SHOOT Project when it was ran here in Japan. Kawada was a very high ranking member in The Yakuza. Forty-five minutes passed in silence as Cronos was driven from Tokyo to Yokohama. Mist hazed in the distance, stirring sluggishly along the ground as they pulled into the harbor. Cronos was lead between shipping containers and winding corridors of the main building before being left face to face in an office with Keichi Kawada.

Keichi Kawada: You have some nerve showing up here, Diamante.

Cronos ignored the frustration in Kawada’s tone and perused the office. It had been almost a decade since he last visited this office, situated on the western end of Yokohama harbor. The original building had been improved over the years, adding a few rooms here and there, including a barracks and armory. Expensive art was added to the walls and two samurai sculptures stood in the corners of the office behind Kawada’s desk.

Cronos Diamante: The kid who drove me here. He doesn’t seem to like me. His bow was short, bordering on disrespectful. Who is he?

Keichi sighed, leaned back against his desk and crossed his arms as he watched Cronos carefully through strained eyes. It was unfortunate the two had met but appropriate, given the history Cronos had with the young man’s family.

Keichi Kawada: He is Katsu’s son. You killed his father when I was head of security. We both know it was self-defense but that doesn’t mean he has to like you, Cronos. I’ve known you for years and I respect you but I still don’t like you.

Cronos nodded and sat down in a leather chair in front of Kawada. Keichi didn’t move, leaning against his desk with his arms crossed.

Cronos Diamante: I’m here to settle our blood debt, Keichi.

Kawada pushed away from his desk with an arched eyebrow and placed his hands behind his back. He walked to the window and stood there, at the top of the office, and peered through the glass to the harbor below. A pall of smoke was drifting up from the bank, joined by several thinner tendrils polluting the night sky and enhancing Kawada’s already pensive mood.

Keichi Kawada: This will settle my debt to you once and for all, Cronos?

Kawada kept his back to Cronos, watching as a chilly wind fluttered junk across the harbor. It added to the already ominous mood between the two men.

Cronos Diamante: If you agree to my terms, consider the debt paid in full and you’ll never see me in Japan again. Not for any reason.

Kawada turned to face Cronos and found himself staring at an outstretched hand. Kawada took his hand and sat down in his leather desk chair and nodded for Cronos to continue.

Cronos Diamante: I need you to put some of your best men on protecting Sean Kygon. You know him best as…

Keichi Kawada:  OutKast. Why? You don’t owe him a damn thing. Unless the rumors I hear about Erik Boyer returning are true.

Cronos sighed and slid the phone out of his pocket and over to Keichi. He watched the entire gruesome scene without so much as flinching. A man in his position had probably done worse to other men. He brought his pointer finger to the side of his face and cupped his jaw in his hand as he looked at Cronos with some degree of pity and a tinge of anger.

Keichi Kawada: I’ll protect him to settle our debt. I want that debt gone more than I care about you using a blood debt properly.

Cronos caught the hint of malice in his voice, obviously directed at the fact he could use his debt to wipe out Erik Boyer once and for all with one word to the man sitting in front of him. That wouldn’t be nearly satisfying enough for Cronos though and he would lose Mirage in the process.

Cronos Diamante: Let’s make one thing clear, Keichi. I don’t give a damn about Sean Kygon. I respect him and what he’s done for the industry I’ve made a living in and that’s as far as it goes. But his family, like mine was, is innocent and have had nothing to do with this industry. I helped you and your bosses keep OutKast out of The SHOOT Project for whatever reason you wanted him gone and I never asked you why. I didn’t care and I still don’t. But if Boyer makes it through me after this is all said and done, they’re next on his list of people to murder. I know he won’t make it through your men. And I still feel like I owe the man something. Don’t ask me why. Just agree to help me handle this and the debt is covered. Once Boyer is dealt with that is, be it through me or your men.

Kawada nodded in agreement and stood up from his chair then walked over to Cronos and patted him on the back.

Keichi Kawada: It is done, Cronos. Let’s take a walk. You and I have much to discuss before you depart Japan. You feel like you owe what you owe to OutKast and I feel like I owe you an outsider’s perspective.

Moments passed and Cronos walked side by side with Keichi along the dirt path to the harbor waters, snaking between tall rows of shipping containers. The eyes of Yakuza guards looked down on them protectively above at the pinnacle of other shipping containers and high metal rises. The sky was clear for now, the smoke having dissipated, but the air was still wet from the downpour earlier on in the day. All in all another perfect night of weather in Yokohama.

Keichi Kawada: VooDoo was correct.

Of all the sentences Keichi could have used to break the peaceful silence the two were having, he had to pick the one sentence that sent Cronos’ head spinning. Before he could react with words of his own, Keichi held up his hand knowing full well that he had pushed Cronos hard enough to be something akin to throwing him into the deep end of a pool and not knowing how to swim.

Keichi Kawada: VooDoo was with you in Japan’s SHOOT Project, remember? What you don’t know about Charles is we spoke to him first and it was he who recommended contacting you about keeping OutKast away. His own brother. You’re probably wondering why that’s relevant.

Cronos said nothing and merely stopped moving, forcing Keichi to turn and face him with his back to the water.

Keichi Kawada: It wasn’t that we were against OutKast. He’s… he was a phenomenal talent. But he was a superstar. He was the type that would take The SHOOT Project from Japan to Vegas and make the transition easy. We could do nothing to stop that when he came on board. SHOOT was always an experiment for the bosses, Cronos. We knew men like you, regardless of how big you were in the states would flourish in our style of fighting because you had no limits. Men like OutKast did. Men like OutKast had followings and followers with followings just as large as his. We needed men like you to keep men like him out. But we’re getting off topic here. My point is that Charles Winbourne, VooDoo, whatever you call him had insight and for all that he held back in that video with Boyer, what he did say was telling and you need to listen to it.

Cronos Diamante: If this has anything to do with letting myself out of the cage I put myself in, you can forget it. You’re one of the three, now two people who know what that actually references. I cannot allow that to happen, Keichi.

Keichi smirked. He knew Cronos was going to take it that way. While he wasn’t exactly moving the conversation in that direction, he wanted the topic fresh in his mind because he was going to reference it again.

Keichi Kawada: I’m not talking about that, Cronos. The fact of the matter is you’ve always been afraid. I don’t mean that you’re a coward. I mean you’re afraid to be your true self. Sure that ties into the cage you keep yourself in but not entirely. VooDoo describes you as Lucifer rather than The Devil. He’s right in a way. You’ve always been a man that punishes people and even when it looks like it’s not being done for good… it is good in its own way because nothing in the world is ever really inherently evil. Nothing is black and white. The Devil is entirely a Western creation, Cronos. It’s always meant to be the opposite of good and that’s how it is often used. You need to stop being at battle with the light and darkness within you and give in to both. Stop trying to define yourself as one or the other. Embrace that you’re both and that life is about being good and bad, not one or the other. Until you finally accept that, you are never going to find peace and you’re never going to get out of the rut you’re in. You won’t defeat Erik Boyer being someone who doesn’t realize that. The old tricks don’t work on him.

Cronos Diamante: So what you’re trying to tell me is that Lucifer being a fallen angel doesn’t matter because he’s still an angel in the end and punishing people…

Keichi Kawada: Stop. Just stop. What I’m saying Cronos is that in order to defeat a soulless man, a truly hollowed out man like Erik Boyer you have to stay true to yourself. Which you haven’t been. The devil is just a stark contract of what “good men” deem “evil” and thus the devil is evil. We have devil’s here in Japan, Cronos. They’re called Oni. Demons that punish the wicked but are not considered to be an evil entity. That’s how I’ve always thought of you. In the true sense of how Lucifer is, I would consider him an Oni as well. You need to channel that. Men like you always need to hold onto something to keep them moving forward and this is exactly what you needed to hear. And just so you know… stop holding yourself in that cage. Let everything go and let the chips fall where they fall or you’ll never be the man that can beat men like Erik Boyer and protect men like OutKast or their families. Is it so much to ask yourself to escape your cage to become the protector you always wanted to be? Even if it means sacrificing some of your soul to do so?

Dawn came to Yokohama harbor, a bleak and flat light muted by a blanket of clouds that haunted the eastern horizon. Cronos and Keichi stood there in silence as the morning mists wisped in the hollows of the harbor, stirring gently through the shipping containers. The harbor was eerily silent and not a soul patrolled for the two men’s safety this early in the morning, with the exception of Kawada’s personal guard. The creak of the leather strap attached to their weapons preceding them as they pass through the empty passageways.

Keichi Kawada: I hope this helped you, Cronos. Stop giving into the fear of what you might become and let the fear of what’s possibly going to happen to you if you don’t give in fuel you to become better and  transcend. My men will take you to the airport unless you have something else to say.

Cronos said nothing as the morning sun beat down on the harbor. The air was humid and muggy and he couldn’t think of a single thing to say. He hadn’t been this silent with someone in a long time but he hadn’t been taken for a ride like this mentally in quite some time either. Now he had a plane ride to think on it.

Las Vegas Airport – Thirteen Hours Later

Cronos left the airport and brought the phone Boyer left him to his ear. He dialed Erik Boyer as instructed and just as he did, he felt the prick of a needle to his arm. He spun around to find himself face to face with the one and only Erik Boyer.

Erik Boyer: This concoction is going to send you on a trip, Cronos. It’s one of my own invention. Enjoy the ride!

Hours passed as Cronos wandered through the streets of Vegas, starting to feel the effects of what he’d been injected with. He was hallucinating about his family and just as he saw his beloved Contessa next to him, he passed out on the sidewalk.
SHOOT Project Discussion / The Rag Mag - Volume 6 - Cronos Diamante
« Last post by Mirage on June 13, 2016, 08:43:19 AM »
“What we’ve got here is a failure to communicate.”

Today, I’ve decided to delve into one of the most intriguing storylines within the confines of SHOOT Project and professional wrestling as a whole. The serialized wrestling show that contains everything from wrestling, to murder. Yes, murder. A bloodbath of a spectacle, it’s not to be missed...and honestly, it’s not a three hour show or anything like if you have a little time, give it a watch. Consider it research because you never know who from SHOOT Project might show up in the EWA and visa versa...

While there are many hot feuds, storylines, and an amazing overall story arc hovering above the entire federation known as SHOOT Project, there is one particular story I happen to know quite a bit about, and have been engrossed by...because I remember watching it at it’s inception. It all started in the late 1990’s, nearly twenty years ago. Yes, I was but a young “smark” at the time, but my eyes were glued to the television every monday night...and if you were alive and a wrestling fan back then, so were yours.

Many of the names you find familiar today, such as Cronos Diamante or Marcus Mirage, or at least have heard of in some regard, were once a bunch of kids trying their damnedest at grabbing that brass ring. This particular group, which consisted of far more names than just those two, quickly came to the realization that there was no brass ring to they created their own. The industry had caught fire, seemingly overnight, and was SHOOTing through the sky like a blazing meteor that almost nobody could keep up with.

The industry found itself in transition, and these kids were the first to take it from side-show clown acts with one silly gimmick after the next to the real, as I’ve come to call it. Wrestling used to be an embarrassing comedy of sorts...but when these kids came out, we stopped laughing at them...and started laughing with them. The drama had suddenly started spilling over into real life, and what we witnessed was amazing.

Keep in mind this all started during what we now refer to as the ‘attitude era’ of professional wrestling. Big tits, lots of skin, middle fingers, sex, blood and hardcore violence were the makeup of the landscape. It was the advent of the crucifixion or other biblical stories come to life in the squared circle, and the death defying stunts were performed live...only not by stuntmen, but wrestlers...or relatives of wrestlers. Yes, I’m referring to the one and only EWA superstar Sahara being thrown off a jumbotron, crashing through the stage with little to no training, and even less regard for herself or her future. Because that was the way of things back then. They were breaking barriers so you could sit there and read this today.

It was all meant to be fun…

And then this new version of SHOOT Project came around and people started dying.

Years ago, a bit of sad story occurred in our beloved sport when Cronos Diamante, known best friend of Marcus Mirage, went through a bit of a tragedy. And when I say a bit, what I really mean is his life was changed forever. While away on a trip, not sure if it was wrestling related or otherwise, his house caught fire and when the smoke cleared, they found his wife and child. I need not say in what condition, I think you get the picture. I’d like to not dwell on this sad fact as to turn this piece into an obituary, but those are the facts, people. Plain and simple. Sadder still, was the fact that Cronos secretly blamed his best friend for this incident for many years before discovering the true story of what had occurred.

Enter Erik Boyer. A name long forgotten within the confines of professional wrestling. A name once ruined by the one and only Cronos Diamante when he architected a career ending series of manipulating moves that got perennial world champion OutKast to end Boyer’s wrestling career. Most of you wouldn't know this, but Boyer was a rising star that got snuffed out by this specific series of moves back then, and it essentially killed his blooming career.

Something Boyer apparently did not forget, even if we all did.

Why’d it happen? Well, my best guess is because they were a bunch of kids just trying their best...and sometimes there’s collateral damage that slips through the cracks and gets lost along the way. Boyer was one of the few that got lost...while the rest of them moved onward and upward and had glorious careers in the ring.

Anyway, many years passed without word from Erik Boyer. As far as we were concerned, the sun had set on his career and he had disappeared. Not a moment was spent thinking about him. Not by myself...not by anyone. But unknown to all, was that Boyer had been meticulously crafting a revenge plot that all started with the murder of Cronos’s family...which he then let lie for many years before striking again. You think your plot that lasts a few weeks is meticulously planned? Try having the patience Erik Boyer displayed and try it over the span of decade. And now, all of this is coming to its apex within the confines of the new era SHOOT Project.

Cronos Diamante vs Erik Boyer.

Let me ask you EWA guys something...have any of you seen Mirage lately? No? Well, if you tuned into SHOOT Project you’d see why. As Mirage is the final link Cronos has to anything resembling a real friendship, he became embroiled in the quickly escalating murder rampage...and last we saw, Mirage had around a day left to live unless Cronos could do something about it.

INSANE. I know, right? Stakes that high in wrestling?! Like I said, SHOOT Project ain’t for the meek...they’re doing things you’ve never seen before.

So, enough about that, it’s not like those shows aren’t available go fucking watch them. I promise, you won’t be sorry. Stories like this and many others, not to mention the amazing superstars like Kenji Yamada, Isaac Entragian, Dan Stein and the others previously mentioned star on the show. And that brings me to the recent days, I caught up with the one and only Cronos Diamante himself to talk about some of this. How this all went from fun to real...and how SHOOT Project is changing the wrestling world.

Q: Thanks for taking the time to talk about this...I can only imagine the rage you feel, the thirst for revenge for all that occurred. Do you find it at all ironic that the revenge you now seek is in retaliation for the revenge that Erik Boyer took out on your friends and family over these past years all designed to get back at you?

A: My life is beset by irony of late. The man who Erik Boyer is right now in many respects used to be me. So to say I find irony in the situation I find myself in is a severe understatement. I could sit here and tell you I played a very small part in what happened to Erik Boyer in the end but that would be a lie. I manipulated him into becoming the monster he is today and I won’t shirk from that responsibility. I own that. As for the rage and thirst for revenge, I won’t deny that my thoughts of late have been dark and consumed by an anger I’ve felt only once before in my life. Although it’s worse now, having lost almost everything and everyone dear to me. There isn’t a word for what I feel.

My Reaction: As a person that’s followed the career of Cronos Diamante for over a decade, you can feel it in his words the damage that’s been done.

Q: For a story that’s something around twenty years in the telling, is it true that you and Boyer were once friends, or is that merely rumor?

A: We were practically family. Set aside all the hatred, ill-will and revenge on both our parts in the current and you’d find that I legitimately was trying to help Erik Boyer become a superstar in this industry when I found him. I’ve never been one to care about wins, losses and championship belts but I know for most people in this industry that’s paramount. I saw talent in Boyer. Top-end talent. I tried to teach him and guide him to the top. For a time I did. He became a World Champion of The SHOOT Project in Japan. Obviously my hatred for OutKast at the time sullied that effort and transformed Erik into something vile and sinister. I won’t ever forgive myself for what I’ve done to men like Erik Boyer. He’s not the only one but he is the toughest case. But honestly… what most don’t see is how hard I am on myself for every decision I make and of all the decisions I’ve made… The ones that have turned bad, I’m hardest on myself for what happened to him. I just… I set that aside now, ya know? The man killed my family. He killed one of my best friends. No matter how bad I feel and how hard I am on myself for it, it doesn’t feel like it matters any longer. I may have pushed him in this direction but he has to be stopped before I’m the next one in the ground and he moves on to other people he finds guilty of making him a cripple for such an elongated period of time and for making him a lesser man. Making him not whole.

My Reaction: Wherever you are in life...if things are good, bad or otherwise, realize they’re doing to change, and not necessarily for the better. So enjoy what you have while you have it...and if what you have sucks at the moment, do know that in time, all will change. You can feel the regret in his words, and you can’t help but get an ominous sense that when all said and done...the outcome won’t be good.

Q: This may be a hard one to answer, but I’m going to ask it anyway. What did you feel after you found out about what happened to your family, only to realize that years later, the man you had blamed all this time -- Marcus Mirage -- was actually innocent?

A: Betrayal. I felt betrayed by my instincts and I felt betrayed by Marcus himself. He didn’t exactly try very hard to convince me otherwise. He donned that stupid 3M mask and paraded around like a nut blaming himself for what happened on top of me blaming him. Don’t mistake me. I love Marcus Mirage like a brother. He’s the closest thing I have to family now. But you’re asking me how I feel and I can honestly say that no matter how close I am to that son of a bitch, I still feel the sting of betrayal because it should have mattered more to convince me he was innocent than to saunter around like it didn’t matter and ignore it. At the same time I feel deep regret. I should have known better. Maybe he counted on me snapping out of it. That comes full circle back to my instincts. He and I don’t dwell on these things though. He’ll always be my best friend regardless of our history. We are made stronger as family for turmoil like this.

Q: Following up that question, as it stands right now, somehow Mirage got himself taken hostage by this maniac you feel obligated to save him considering the blame you laid at his feet all those years?

A: You damn right I feel obligated and I will save him or die trying. It has nothing to do with the blame I laid at his feet. I’ve been in his home. I’ve shared meals with his wife and daughter. My family… my… *tears begin to flow from Cronos* family, rest their souls, were guests of theirs and our children, our sweet sweet children, played together at both his and my house. I won’t let Marcus be destroyed by Erik Boyer’s rage like Charles was. Whether the wrestling world knows it or not, Marcus Mirage saved my life once upon a time and I won’t let that debt go unpaid.

My Reaction: This is what sets the excitement of SHOOT Project apart from what I’d call a regular wrestling show. The stakes in SP aren’t just about titles, wins and losses...they’re literally about living and dying.

Q: Everything you’ve gone through over the years. The loss of your family. Do you feel jealous of Mirage, as if he was the one that deserved all of that pain? After all the heinous things he's done throughout his career and the fact that up until now he got to walk away from it all with his family intact, his wife now a wrestler in the EWA, and his daughter still you feel as if it was you that suffered the brunt of it all?

A: I’m truly happy for Marcus and the family he has. It makes me miss mine all the more but I’m not petty enough to let that turn me into a jealous man. The old me probably would have said yes to that. Alas I’m not that person any longer. Sure there’s some part of me that wonders what the threshold is to incur karmic forces. Make no mistake about it, I believe in karma very much. It’s a bit of a new belief of mine. There’s many villainous acts that Marcus has committed and he’s paid for them in his own way even though he’d never admit that to the general public. The truth of it all, however, is life happens because life wants to happen. I wouldn’t wish what happened to me on my worse enemy, not even Erik Boyer, much less my best friend and becoming jealous is doing just that in its own twisted way. I’m by no means what I would consider a good person. Erik Boyer proves I’m not an evil person. I don’t murder people in cold-blood no matter how heinous some of the shit I’ve done is perceived. I’m a man just like you struggling with the light and dark inside me on a daily basis. Some days the dark blackens my soul and others the light illuminates in a way I wouldn’t think possible. I’m the same man and I’m not the same man I used to be if that makes any sense.

Q: It’s hard to know whether he was a former friend, enemy or both, but recently, VooDoo was quoted as saying, and I’m paraphrasing, “He’s like Lucifer. No, I don’t mean in the bullshit Christian sense, either. I mean Lucifer as in the Lord of Hell. The one who punishes those that do wrong by others. That’s who Cronos Diamante is and always has been.” Taking what he said in this sense, I’d have to say that Lucifer himself also does wrong...and is wrong. Traditionally, he represents the worst of the worst in this world, and is punished in his own right by having to be the one that’s always surrounded by those he punishes. It’s where the song Sympathy for the Devil derives from. If you stop to think about the Devil, and what he’s always around, you have to feel a bit of sorrow for him. It may not have always been this way, at least in your eyes, but do you see this as the person you’ve become? And in any sense, did Erik Boyer have a hand in creating who you are right now?

A: This has always been a closely guarded secret and very personal to me and those I consider members of my inner circle of friends and family. This whole Devil moniker was easy for me to take as my own with how manipulative and conniving I have been perceived to be. But it wasn’t always for reasons to bring men to their knees and beg for mercy. Parents manipulate their children into doing what’s best for them all the time. Take your swimming lessons and I’ll buy you a puppy! Do your reading for school and I’ll buy you a video game! Sure I’ve not been so innocent as to do that in the wrestling world but my point is all the manipulation hasn’t always been for my own gain and VooDoo was one of the few who knew that. He knew I transformed myself into something I wasn’t to keep myself in check so to speak. To lock my true nature in a cage as he was quoted as saying as well, multiple times actually. The simple fact of the matter is I’ve done some very wrong things and committed heinous acts of brutality in my career and while I may regret some of what I’ve done… I won’t apologize for any of it and I embrace every last act because it is who I am if you read between the lines. I forced Alex Brooks to tap for the Rule of Surrender Championship without ever laying a hand on him, by threatening his younger brother. Why? He wasn’t ready and wasn’t fit. I helped him realize that. I helped Erik Boyer crucify OutKast. Why? Sean Kygon for all the good he’s done for this industry literally stole Boyer’s woman out from under him. Greed needs to be punished. I could go on but the point I’m making is, this isn’t the person I’ve become. It’s the person I’ve always been. Unfortunately the cat is out of the bag now and I can’t hide it any longer. Boyer had nothing to do with creating it but he will have a hand in me realizing the full potential. I didn’t want out of the cage I put myself in but he might as well have taken a crowbar to the lock when he took Mirage.

Q: Normally, in these interviews I end with a name association thread, however, in this case, given the current state of SHOOT Project, we won’t be ending this that way. Good or bad, right or wrong...this won’t end well for someone, possibly many. If this ends up being the final printed interview you give, do you have any words you’d like sign off with?

A: The only last words I can offer anyone reading this interview is that when it’s time to walk away, do it. Don’t let your mentality tell you there’s one more thing you can do or one more mountain to climb. My wife asked me to retire and spend the rest of my life with her and my children far away from all this hatred and violence and pain. She told me my war with Mirage back in Legacy would lead me down a path of certain doom. I ignored her. I said I had a little left in the gas tank. Had I listened, none of us would be in this position right now. My family would be alive and we’d be in another country. VooDoo would be alive. Mirage would be safe and not depending on my do or die moment to keep him alive. Accept input from those who care about you and be able to walk away at a moment’s notice for your own happiness and others that depend on you. Otherwise you end up like me, alone and constantly in pain. I wouldn’t wish this existence on a single soul. Be content knowing you’ve at least accomplished something in this industry. Don’t let it take your soul. Don’t let it make you into something you’re not. Be better than that. Transcend.

My Reaction: This is SHOOT Project, ladies and gentlemen...wrestling as you’ve NEVER seen it before. It’s going to be a very sad day when this era ends...and that goes for both EWA Entertainment and SHOOT Project as we know them today. These stars we have right now, from Cronos to Sinnocence, to the likes of Grady Smith, Grace Goeren, Dan Stein and Buck Dresden are the last bastion of what we will soon consider to be a golden era of the wrestling industry. And, quite possibly, the last golden era the industry sees within our lifetimes.

At the very least we’ll all know we were there to see it, and it's been amazing. Enjoy it while you have it, folks...because odds are it’ll never be this good again.

The Epicenter / Prisoners Pt. 6 (A Select Journal Entry)
« Last post by Boyer on June 04, 2016, 03:01:39 AM »
Boyer: “So, do you have time for a story, Marc?”

Erik rolled his eyes and smirked at the securely bound, supreme confidant of Cronos Diamante, Marcus Mirage- his lips taped shut.

Boyer: “How many times do I have to tell you, when I ask a question, I kinda need a motherfucking answer. So pretentious.”

His turqoise eyes widen, his mouth gaping soon after, as if to signify that there was humor to be shared.

Boyer: “Alright, alright, last time I use that one. I try to keep it original, Marcus, try to keep it fresh, know what I mean?”

Erik pinches Mirage’s cheek, before leaving a streak, tawny in color, smeared across the right side of the prisoner’s face, provoking the captured to wince and cringe.

Boyer: “See, never done that before. Original. It’s just a little of my shit on your face, Mirage, relax. It’s natural. So, story time?”

The captor wipes his hand vigorously in an open space on Mirage’s tiny cot penitentiary.  Boyer whips an almost coiled notebook from the back of his black trousers, adorned sporadically with remarkably unstylish holes and tears.

Boyer: “This is my journal, bud. Since we’re becoming friends and all, I figured maybe I’d open up a little. I know your favorite color, favorite food, most coveted dinosaur- ALL that good shit. Now, I figure, I’ll reciprocate. Read ya a page or two about an ordinary day in my life. You in?”

The man with the now famously scarred abdominals and obliques leaned over to smack Mirage, sarcastically, for not answering, rather than make another seemingly nonsensical joke, but stops short, pulling his right hand back in to his torso.

Boyer: “Fuck, you got shit on that side. That’s gross. Dirty motherfucker. Now I have to stand the fuck up- HEY, JACK, YOU’RE A WORTHLESS FAGGOT!!!”

Erik glanced toward the basement ceiling, the stability of which was questionable at best.

Boyer: “Ha ha ha, it’s a compulsion, I apologize. Anyway-”

Mirage’s probable murderer hits the legend of the game’s face on the left side with his journal as if he was attempting to take the life of a frenzied wasp, producing a cringeworthy, “thwap.” Boyer sneered at Mirage for a moment, as if disappointed in his bound, silenced subject’s lack of audible reaction. That same grimace is replaced by the, now, almost trademark, off-putting grin. He sat back down on his chair, his chest resting against its back, chiseled arms hanging around its sides, holding his tattered spiral notebook.

Boyer: “Arrogant motherfucker. Anyway-”

He channeled the voice of David Allen Grier, from In Living Color and asked, with a self indulgent chuckle...


Mirage never took his eyes off of his antagonizing kidnapper.

Boyer started in.

The devil’s face glared at me, stoically, while the historical mastermind’s smirked, arrogantly. Well, not in the flesh, but from the front sides of a pair of T-shirts worn by a couple of twenty somethings- one fat as fuck, the other covered in acne that should have cleared up half a decade ago. Fucking losers. Folks live vicariously through us, the good looking, the athletic, the charismatic, the fearless. It’s fucking pathetic. I’d been wanting to experience the feeling murder might inundate me with for a while, now, so naturally, I wanted to kill them and everyone like them. Not just for their unabashed support of the “Agents of Destiny,” arguably the two biggest factors causing my extended physical and brief mental deterioration.  More because of the fact that neither of them had the balls to stop idolizing and start transforming. They were both worthless. I didn’t need to know their life stories to know they wasted their lives thus far, and had no immediate plans of turning it around.

Boyer paused.

Boyer: “These kids were fucking less- worse than pathetic, dude.”

He continued.

I’ve always had balls. It ain’t hard to have balls. Just recognize that you’re a man, you have testicles, and those testicles produce testosterone. Testosterone makes you feel good, if you let it. It makes you feel stronger than you did in your prepubescent days.  Once you get hair on your balls, the proverbial ball is largely in your court as to who you wanna become.

Boyer: “Like, you became a conniving cocksucker.”

I wanted to be the greatest, most revered and recognized fighter on the planet. The baddest motherfucker alive. I almost did it, too. OutKast broke or tore my motherfucking everything, but before that, I was on my way. Living proof that this morbidly obese mark and his ‘had-a-prostitute-bought-for-him-by-the-porker-on-his-22nd-birthday-so-that-he-could-tell-himself-and-others-he -wasn’t-a-virgin’ buddy chose to waste their lives. No one decided for them that their lives would be meaningless, forgettable and worthless- they just accepted it and found comfort in the antics and/or treachery of Cronos and Mirage. Hell, I could respect an OutKast shirt. They’d still be awful at life, but at least the mere sight of them wouldn’t have set me into murderous plotting mode.

Boyer: “That’s because I respect what he did. Cronos manipulated me into that situation, and I’m not sure of your exact role, but you had one- I feel like, you are to Cronos, what he was to me- which is why you’ll both pass away unceremoniously- you, by this hand covered with shit residue, Cronos, hopefully, by his own forty five. But, I digress...back to my journal. Is that proper English, Mirage? Whatever, fuck it.”

I followed them for the rest of the night. A hood, shaved head, and keeping my face angled downward at about a forty five degree angle, watching their movements from just below the edge of the black hood was enough to ensure my identity was disguised. Who was I kidding, though? Anyone who remembered me either thought I was dead or didn’t give a fuck either way. I was going to murder two disgusting, literally, worthless dudes. Better safe than sorry, right?  Followed them into a pub. Sat four bar stools down from them, as they talked about whatever non-soliciting virgins talk about, and they never noticed me- not even with my fucking hoodie- it was seventy damn degrees that day.

Boyer: “Woooorrrrthlessssss, bro. Probably, the co-presidents of your fan club. Jack would have fit right in. Hate thag piece of shi- JACK!! NOBODY FUCKING LOVES YOU!! KILL YOURSELF!! TONIGHT!! Ha ha ha, anyway.”

Wafflehouse after that. Both got a number five. OBVIOUSLY, Fatty McGee got an extra side of bacon AND sausage. Still unnoticed.”

Boyer: “You would have noticed, by now, right? Someone stalking you, randomly ending up in the same places as you? Nothing is a coincidence, right Marcus?”

So, to cut to the chase, the best part about it was when I tore the box cutter through Cronos’s face on the ugly one’s shirt, which surprised me. That really helped me to affirm that he was the one that needed to experience hell on Earth. This kid, whose acne I carved off for him, before I jammed the box cutter into his neck so many times that his blood just ruined the visibility of his new dermatological procedure- this kid's gruesome death just wasn't gonna be enough. Anyway. That process took me, total, maybe a minute, at the desolate stop light just outside Wafflehouse.

Boyer: “Funny how the volume of traffic held these kids’ fate in their hands, right? Even one more car, and they’re probably still alive, being awf- eh, nah, maybe not- I was pretty deadset on murdering them. Yeah, nevermind, they didn’t have a chance. Anyway…”

The fat one took off, of course. The pussy vacated the vehicle and ran for his life at a maximum of 3.2 mph, while apparently not considering the option of using his piece of shit flip phone to call the police. After I finally eradicated that debilitating acne from his friend’s face and then enforced the justice one deserves for accepting their lot in life by declining Proactive and accepting Cronos as a demigod, I caught up to his friend in moments. Ran him over with his own car. Pretty sure that killed him. I got out and tried to cut off his disgusting, bountiful man bosoms, but the box cutter just kept making tiny incisions- not the tool for impromptu liposuction- cutting the acne off the other kid, now, that’s a box cutter job.

Boyer: “Who knew, right?”

Killing these two abominations of god felt a little cool. Better than okay, but the high I was looking for wasn’t as strong as I thought it’d be. I had to actually do to Cronos, and probably Mirage, what I did to that kid’s shirt, before I cut his face off. So, tonight, I’m finally sure. Focused. I’m going to murder everything remotely connected to Cronos- and, I’m gonna make him kill himself. Unless, the stubborn prick won’t do it, despite having every reason. Then, I’ll just have to cut his face off, too.

Boyer: “So, that was my entry the night I killed two of your biggest fans- for a lot of reasons, but mostly because I recognized Cronos and your faces. So, cheers, ya know? If for nothing else, I thank you for that. Since that night, I’ve got a purpose. I’ve got a reason to live. An astronomically powerful reason- though, an entirely different one than that which you threatened I was giving Cronos. Your tape stays on, tonight, cause buddy, maybe it’s the last bit of foolish pride I have left, or- I don’t know, but if I ever hear someone question my level of determination, my level of- YEAH, BRO-  psychotic obsession- I don’t deny it- my level of hatred for your friend, or my level of intelligence- fuck, my years of meticulous planning- my destiny to end Cronos Diamante- if I hear that tonight, I’m going to cut your eyelids off so you have to watch me chop off those nuts, before I stuff them down your fucking throat and watch you die of asphyxiation. That ain’t the plan, though. Plus, I’ll black out from the rage, so what good does that do for the hopeful reparation and restoration of my soul? None.”

Erik smacks the notebook against the edge of the cot as he rises, this time with a gatorade bottle of, presumably, his urine, in his left hand. He stretches his arm out toward the foot of the cot, before tilting it and releasing the contents all over Marcus Mirage, covering him from calf to hairline.

Boyer: “I’d have had the faggot do it, like last time, but I wanted to make sure it actually got done right. Good for nothing, piece of- mmph. Register what you just heard. Let it marinate. Then, never talk to me like you know me or have me pegged ever, ever again. Later, Marcus.”

The Epicenter / Fear [Part 2]
« Last post by Cronos Diamante on June 03, 2016, 01:11:33 PM »
A phone is clicked on and the recording on it begins playing.

Boyer: Chuck. Charlie. Charles...which do you prefer? Oh,’s not like I fucking care. Whatever it may will talk. Or I’ll keep bringing you back from the brink of death, just enough to keep you breathing...and then we’ll continue where I left off.

Boyer looks down at Voodoo, who appears to completely ignore him. Shaking his head at the insolence on display, Boyer rears back and belts him across the face, sending blood splattering against the floor.


VooDoo smirks before spitting on the floor before his captor. Looking up, he finally breaks his silence.

VooDoo: You truly haven’t learned a Goddamn thing have you, boy? The prized student you were to Cronos hasn’t become the master at all. You were his pride and joy until you fucked it up. You’re just another failed experiment, Erik. 

Turning his back to VooDoo, Boyer rubs his chin as if contemplating the thought. Then, in an instant, VooDoo finds Boyer’s hand around his throat, knocking him back to the floor and choking the life out of him. As his face turns an eerie shade of purple, he releases him and watches his prisoner gasp for air.

Boyer: I learned how to do that, you arrogant shit. After all that silence...that’s the best you got?

VooDoo claws his way back to any semblance of normal breathing, not allowing it to deter him from speaking the truth to the psychopath inside his home.

VooDoo: Ever... the petulant... child!

Boyer: Still wasting time, dear Charles...still wasting time. It’d be a horrible series of events if that delectable cunt you call a wife was to come home right about now...don’t you think?

Boyer turned toward VooDoo with a smirk on his face.

Boyer: I suggest you start

VooDoo gave nothing away in his eyes or mannerisms but his mind was working a mile a minute now. He had to antagonize Boyer into destroying him before Natalie could make it home. By his count he had one hour.

VooDoo: You want substance, Erik? Something you can use against Cronos. Is that what you want?

Lifting the chair back to its upright position, Boyer walked across the room taking his sweet time. It was as if he was trying to let the clock run. Let his wife come home. Grabbing a second chair, he slowly dragged it across the wooden floor before spinning it backwards and taking a seat facing his captor. He rested his chin on the top of the backrest and waited.

VooDoo: Sean has been saying for years that Cronos got high on his own product. No matter what my brothers have done to you, they’ve done worse to each other. The truth about Cronos is he’s convinced all of you that he’s ever the man OutKast says he is. The man who samples the merchandise. You all called him the Devil and he ran with it. I sat in the shadows and I watched as the man he slowly became was nothing like the man he truly is. You can keep calling him the Devil. When you learn Cronos for who he really, truly is Erik you won’t escape.

VooDoo spit out a mouthful of blood and grinned, still showing his own psychopathic confidence in the face of a man even more unhinged than he’d ever been and that was saying something. Looking down at the blood, a very calm Boyer looked up at VooDoo.

Boyer: Where are your FUCKING MANNERS?!

Reeling back, Boyer delivers a crushing big boot right to VooDoo’s face, sending the chair sprawling across the floor.

Boyer: Now tell me who he more goddamned fucking riddles and bullshit fuck stories about whatever the fuck all that was...TELL ME!

VooDoo couldn’t help but chuckle at his impatience. Boyer didn’t know it but if Cronos found himself again, he was a goner if he kept acting like this. That was all VooDoo needed to know to reveal the truth to Boyer and not feel guilty of betrayal.

VooDoo: He’s Lucifer. I don’t mean that in the bullshit Christian sense, Erik. Christians always place some sort of bullshit value on defining the so called “Devil.” Lucifer is the Lord of Hell. The Lord of punishing those who have done wrong. The Lord of Wrath. That’s who Cronos Diamante really is and always has been underneath the mind games and the constant scheming that lesser men only focus on.

Walking over to where VooDoo landed, still attached to the chair, Boyer looked down at him, raising his eyebrows.

Boyer: Then the student has, in fact, become the master, dear boy…

Placing his foot across VooDoo’s throat, he begins pressing down.

Boyer: I’m all of those things you described...I’m in control. And you, dear boy, are running out of time...better get to the fucking point, because if she comes home...they’ll be finding two bodies in his place...not the one I actually came for.

VooDoo tightened his neck against the boot on his throat and spoke plainly. Boyer looked down, allowing him to speak, perhaps for the last time.

VooDoo: Are you truly in control, Boyer? Truly? Because you haven’t even gotten to the heart of it. But if you’re content with that small amount of knowledge, kill me.

Boyer: I’ll tell ya tell me what I wanna fuckin’ know, and I will. I’ll even spare that bitch wife of yours...but if you keep fucking with me...I think I’ll wait around for her arrival. And we both know where that ends up.

VooDoo sighed. His allegiance had long been to his family and his friends but Natalie had become that. Cronos and OutKast were estranged to him by now. But it’s not like he could trust the word of Erik Boyer. He would give him enough to feel sated but not enough to destroy his family.

VooDoo: Haven’t you ever found it odd that Cronos never cared about winning matches or titles, Erik? I assume that was his first lesson he taught you actually. Yes?

Boyer shrugged, merely looking down at VooDoo the entire time.

Boyer: Maybe...go on…

VooDoo: The only other person who was like that was Mirage. The two of them have always had something on this industry that none of us ever have. My brother OutKast, for example, always had to be winning his titles and making himself the best at the expense of everyone. Mirage and Cronos, however, never in a million years did they need that. What they did to people’s minds inside the ring was enough. If you ever watch an old Wushu match, the true master is the one that can make the killing blow and doesn’t and is content that he didn’t have to make it even if that leads to him losing the match. Why? Because they had already won and it’s only the dimwitted and prideful who think they actually win against someone like that. Do you understand now, Erik?

VooDoo looks hard to the right, realizing he may have just given Erik his next target but tries to recover and looks directly into Erik’s eyes.

VooDoo: I have no doubt Cronos has felt remorse for what he did to you, Erik. You and everyone else never understand what happens in the shadows. Cronos is hardest on himself for his actions and he always will be. But ask yourself this… who were you before Cronos got his hands on you? And who did you become once Cronos groomed you? Rags to riches story as I recall. Nothing to Champion. That’s not so bad is it?

Boyer appeared to actually contemplate his answer.

Boyer: Who was I before Cronos got his hands on me?

Looking down at VooDoo, he slowly nodded.

Boyer: Whole.

VooDoo nodded and smiled on the inside. He could tell that he hit the nerve he needed to in order to take this home and end it. Boyer’s mood was altered exactly where it needed to be.

VooDoo: I’ll tell you one last thing, Erik. If that man ever lets himself out of the cage he’s put himself in, you and everyone like you, those that need a really good ass kicking, will cower in FEAR at his feet. You will get on your knees and beg that he doesn’t take everything you have left from you.

VooDoo cackled maniacally and spit out another carefully aimed mouthful of blood, this time landing on a pant leg just shy out of camera view which immediately resulted in the sound of puking.

VooDoo: Now get this over with, Erik. I told you what you need to know and what you need to figure out on your own. Kill me. Send your message. Cronos will avenge me. When he does, I’ll be waiting. You and I, boy, are going to the same place. I’ll see you in Hell!

Looking down at VooDoo, Boyer smirks.

Boyer: You first.

Boyer reached into his back pocket and pulled out a knife. He went to jam it into VooDoo’s throat when the sound of puking came once again, this time all over Boyer’s shoes.

Boyer: You had one fucking job, Jack! HOLD THE CAMERA! FUCK! Now I have to burn another house down! GOD DAMMIT!

Boyer composed himself again and smirked.

Boyer: On second thought, I think I’d rather leave you alive to burn. Toodles!
Boyer quickly ransacked the home for lighter fluid and once he found it began spreading it all throughout the home until he was thoroughly satisfied with his handiwork. He motioned for Jack to take the camera phone outside with him. Boyer threw a matchbook on the gas and grinned as the house went up in flames.

Boyer: This is for you Cronos. Make sure you take this message to Sean. He needs...

The pound of a fist on a table is heard and soon after comes a familiar voice.

OutKast: Turn it off. Cronos! Turn it off!

Cronos turned the video off and sat in silence with OutKast for a long time before he lay a hand on his shoulder. He never intended on showing OutKast the recording but he demanded to see it when he brought the news of his brother’s murder and let it slip Boyer had recorded the entire atrocity.

Cronos Diamante: I’m sorry, Sean.

Tears streamed down OutKast’s face as he stared into his living room in Japan. Cronos frowned with a heavy heart and stood up to leave but found OutKasts hand gripping him at the elbow preventing him from leaving yet.

OutKast: No more half-measures, Cronos. Get ahead of this before it buries us both.

Cronos nodded, no words need be spoken and his arm was released. As he reached the front door, OutKast called out to him with his back turned to him still.

OutKast: Let yourself out of the cage, Cronos. You won’t beat him any other way.

Cronos Diamante: Not a chance, Sean. I’ll find a better way.
SHOOT Project Discussion / Re: Boyer
« Last post by Boyer on June 03, 2016, 12:05:57 AM »
Thanks, man! Much appreciated!
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