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Author Topic: Chaos [II of II vs. Kale Tanev]  (Read 289 times)

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Chaos [II of II vs. Kale Tanev]
« on: September 18, 2014, 10:25:10 PM »
“Oscuridad caerá y el caos reinará.”

The trophy room.  His trinkets from conquests lived here.  Replica championship belts in display cases on the wall, a shelf full of DVDs and videos.  Record of the past.  In the room, a single TV with the appropriate accoutrement to accomplish any study that he felt he needed to accomplish. Lately, his life circled around reminding himself exactly what he was here for.  What his goal was. 

One of the things he’d learned as he was learning how to play the piano was that you needed to film yourself as you practiced.  At a young age, he learned about the wisdom one could gain simply from keeping your eyes and ears open.  No matter what the subject.  Whether that’s piano, history, the English language, or crafting an intricate battle plan as you swim headfirst, up stream.

Lately, he inundated himself with the film from getting set on fire.  It was perverse and sick to watch once, nevermind over and over again, but he did it knowing that he needed to learn whatever he could from that moment.  It’d been so long since it happened and the scar, for the most part, had healed, but the damage it had done to his mind was still absolutely evident.

Over and over again, the blowtorch.  The flame. 

Then, the inner monologue starts. 

He starts to feel the pain again.  That subtle nag and tear that the burn left him with.  Sure, the searing flesh pain was gone.  He’d gotten over that, but like someone who’s lost a limb… that phantom feeling was still there.  He worried it always would be. 

The scar was still warm to the touch, though.  That much remained, and what was it all for? 

More and more, it appears that the answer to that is nothing.

He knew looking at that tape,that he had to move forward.  He had to find a way to move on, but then he watched it.

Over and over again.

The blowtorch.

The flame.

He sighs, then looks to the wall, eyeing the replica World Heavyweight Championship and Iron Fist Championship.  Looking at some of the digital stills from before… back when things were different.  He saw the trinkets on the wall.  The screwdriver.  The boxcutter. 

Then he does that really odd thing again.

He smiles.  It’s slight, but it’s there.

There would never be true peace.

Only chaos.


You bite.

You claw.

You scratch.

You pull.

Push.

Tug.

You dig.

Then you climb.

I sit here in this room, watching tape of myself, of you, of anything and everything.  I’m obsessed with it all, Kale.  I’m obsessed with creating wrongs and then righting them.  That’s what drives me.  I can tie it all back, dress it up neatly, and package it in a way that makes sense. 

It all makes sense. 

But then it doesn’t.  There’s a slight crack, a slight chink in the iron clad.  That crack, it splinters… not unlike a chip in a windshield or an egg. It’s all delicate, what we do.  The stories we create and the destiny’s we want to believe that we’re following for ourselves.  At some point in our life, we want to do the right thing. 

Some of us get to that point and we own it.  We stay with it.  Those are guys like Maya Nakashima.  People who embody the good in the world. 

Some of us get to that point and decide that doing the right thing… doing the good thing… that’s not enough for us.  We want more out of our lives.  We want to feel something more than contentment and joy.  We want to get the other end of the spectrum too.  We want to feel destructive… like we’re capable of both creating AND destroying, and that? 

That’s infectious.  It’s like a virus.  It spreads and takes hold of you and it’s impossible… nah, it’s NEARLY impossible to shake.  A staph infection, personified.

That kind of thing is reserved for guys like you and I. 

That’s why we hurt.  That’s why we do the things that we do.  That’s why we have the skeletons in the closet that we have.  Whatever yours are, just know that I understand. I understand what that sickness feels like.  I understand that there’s no cure, just…  you just deal with the symptoms.  It’s addictive. 

Horribly addictive. 

You do one thing and you tell yourself that you like it.  You enjoy what you did there, and you know what, Kale?  You decide you’re going to do something like that again. 

Then you viciously assault someone. 

You scar their eye with a screwdriver.

You carve a smileyface scar into their chest. 

But then… then the high goes away.  You start to understand what you’ve done.  You’re starting to come down, and you go through a withdrawal. You don’t feel the physical effects of it like you do with a drug addiction or an alcohol addiction, no, but you definitely go through a withdrawal.  You find yourself analyzing every situation, wanting to effectively play god.  You’re a rabid dog and at some point… you bite the hand that feeds you. Whether it’s literal or figurative, once you take that bite… heh.

Then… you go too far.  At that point, you have a decision to make, Kale.  You decide whether or not you’ve gone too far and you can’t come back.  You’re at that point of no return and you have to figure out what you’re going to be.  Are you going to be the one that turns back at the last possible second or are you going to be the one that continues down that path? 

That’s where I am.  I’m at that point.  I’ve reached the top of the rollercoaster… the precipice that is the life that I’ve chosen for myself. 

And Kale, I have to tell you…  I’m fighting to find my way back.


His heart is racing, his breath is jagged and completely out of sync.  He catches himself and refocuses.  He takes the woodhandled screwdriver into his palm and squeezes his hand around it.  He takes a deep breath and very slowly exhales. 

The statement that was made with a simple weapon… the wide-eyed, with no pun intended, terror that was felt… it rocked the SHOOT Project. 

That was the power he held in his hand, and that was the power he felt coming from that weapon.  He sighs again, putting it back down.

I scratch.

I claw.

I climb. 

I pull.

I dig. 

I feel nothing but chaos, Kale.  Nothing at all.  When I reached that precipice, what finally turned me around wasn’t the chance to right a wrong.  A lot of people get that wrong when they talk about when I left Project: SCAR.  They believe that was the entire thing; that I wanted to cut the rotted flesh from the wound that SCAR created.  They were partially correct, but there was always another part, Kale.

A different kind of inspiration, the type that’s borne from selfishness and a want to experience the invigorating feel that you get when an entire arena full of people are cheering for you.  They saw me as the cure… the cure for the cancer that was Project: SCAR, but I saw an opportunity. 

An opportunity to cause chaos. 

You see… Adrian Corazon versus Project: SCAR gave the SHOOT Project a story that captured everything and everyone.  The world trembled in SCAR’s wake, and few people were willing to stand up to that juggernaut.  In turn, I got to systematically work to ATTEMPT to take SCAR apart.  The worst part? 

I didn’t even really get to claim that victory.  The SHOOT Project did. 

But I got what I wanted, Kale.  I got chaos and I got glory.  I continued to stand against Kenji Yamada, Flay Rios, Isaac Entragian, and Elizabeth Gaunt and the fans continued to cheer, continued to crave the violence and the blood that came from that.  It was a long time ago that I accepted that the audience wouldn’t EVER feel about me the way they feel about Maya Nakashima. 

That guy is a real hero. 

Me?  I’m just a guy that knows how to fight and doesn’t know when to quit.  They see Fight Club when they look at me.  I am Adrian’s Bottled Rage.

I suspect that you’re at a point where you’re trying to figure out why this matters to you. What does yet another history lesson mean to Kale Tanev?

It’s about redemption, Kale.  It’s about understanding and accepting that no matter what you’ve done, no matter who you’ve hurt, there’s NEVER a point of no return.  I fight that fight every single day, one day at a time.  The vicious disease that rages inside of the SHOOT Project is muted right now.  Entragian is trying to make amends with his own life.  Kenji Yamada is in the wind.  Obsidian is in the wind.  Rios and Gaunt…  gone. 

But the disease that rages within guys like us, Kale? 

That’s something we have to constantly fight, or else it will consume us and it’s that uncertainty… that question… are you what you think you are?  Or can you be better? 

THAT is what I plan to exploit, because that… that’s what chaos is.  The struggle between good and evil… right and wrong…  black and white. 

The Master of the Mat tournament is an opportunity to upset the balance again.  To cause chaos, and understand me when I tell you, Kale… you do reap what you sow.  You do deserve what you get.  I’m the picture perfect example of that. 

So pick yourself up, lace your boots, and get ready. 

Chaos reigns at Revolution.


Black.