Broken Wing v TTD

A man destroyed, his hopes and dreams and elements that became more important than his entire life were dashed and ripped away from him only to send him further past the point of personal hell that he had already passed. Through no fault of his own did he face this failure yet blaming himself would not be an option to this feeble minded sociopathic parasite. Instead he would blame those around him that he envied and loathed. He hated them because of his inferiority he knew he carried and he was right to carry it. His over compensations had gotten him nowhere and his life and the structures he had recently built were crashing down around him to the point where he had almost nothing left. He was a shell of a man before but now the brutal husk of his destroyed persona and life had been long gone. One would almost pity this faded individual – a fading memory of something that once was but now could never form again. A mind and a life destroyed for what?

What was one’s end game? What was the goal at the end of this, at the end of it all? What was the game and what could be accomplished at the end of the day or the end of the competition or even the end of ones days? How could any of this help, seeing a man who had already become a failure and already be mentally and physically destroyed be pushed even further off the brink? One could not take joy in seeing this happen to a man who had lost everything twice? Such an individual must be pitied yet somehow the general thought was wrong. This individual was pitied sure, but he was a despicable man, one filled with hatred and only hate for those he blamed for his own shortcomings and mistakes.

He was the only one to blame for his mistakes and everything he did wrong. The problems in his life were caused by him and him alone yet he felt it necessary to take his problems out on those innocent people around him and dedicate his life to inflicting pain fueled by hatred on those who deserved it the least. This was a man who had been through a lot yes but by no means was this man a respectful individual full of character. He was a shell of a man now only inhabited by evil and consumed by hate. He had made it his mission to annihilate that in which I stood for and every element and value I held sacred so I was given no choice in such a sad and really unfortunate situation. It had become a mission or a duty bestowed upon me. He was a fading memory almost faded out and my job was to finish him off. Was this a task that should have been taken lightly or was it even a task that should be carried out at all?

People would disagree but I believe in my heart of hearts that this was an undertaking that needed to be done and done successfully. Scum and pathetic behavior had run wild and freely for long enough. Evil’s streak was always underlying but now it had gotten to a point where it had contaminated everything and everyone. It was a bad situation, it was a bad problem because the steam and leader of such issues was evil, not pure evil but embodied evil values and only saw pain and hatred through their blinded eyes. A nemesis can only be a nemesis for so long before you out grown them and I out grew every single one of them. This individual would be no different. It wasn't a case of whether or not ending him would be the right thing to do or now but it didn’t really matter much anymore. It didn’t matter whether it was right or wrong because he had rubbed off on me and I wanted to end him. I made it my goal and I was going to end him simply because I had the urge and desire to put him out of his misery and halt his painful, useless and meaningless existence…

I wanted to end it all now.

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The scene opens by fading in on a shot of a cloudy sky, streaked with reds, oranges, and yellows by the light of the setting sun. A flock of young ravens suddenly takes flight, scattering into their air as the flaps of their wings and the harsh calls of their beaks fill the twilit air.

As the flock of ravens move further away, their agitated cries growing more and more distant, the camera pans downward to reveal a dirt road cutting a swathe through a grassy field. Tall greenish strands sway gently in the evening breeze, brushing up against isolated fence posts that run along either side of the road and getting tangled up in the strands of barbed-wire fencing that hang from them. A lonely cry reaches the camera, and it turns to focus on a lone Raven, hopping out of the tall grass onto the dirt road. One wing flaps incessantly, as if trying to make up for its counterpart, which hangs limply at the bird's side, bent at an odd angle. It hops slowly to the middle of the dirt road, and gives a sharp cry when two black combat boots stomp down on either side of it.

As the raven begins hopping away, frantically escaping what it perceives as an assailant, the camera pans upwards to reveal the imposing figure of The Arbiter. Not looking at the camera, he watches as the defenseless bird does its best to get away from him, frantically trying to escape back into the tall grass lining the road. Presently, the following text fades in, ghostlike, at the bottom of the screen.

Pitiful creatures, birds.

He walks after the raven, bringing his foot down just between the raven and the tall grass, blocking its entry. The bird releases another shrill squawk and changes direction, hopping back across the dirt road for the sanctuary of the grass on the other side.

Even with the gift of flight, miraculous though it is, they are little more than skyborne rats, scavenging what they can and fleeing when something larger than themselves approaches. When there are no threats to their well-being, they are kings... dominants... alphas. The bits and seeds and insects that they consume ought to fear the hubris and candor of these skyborne predators, and rightfully so.

The Arbiter resumes pursuit of the raven, following it across the road without the slightest bit of haste or urgency in his step.

But when something different comes along... something bigger...

He stomps down another boot, again blocking the raven's passage to safety.

They flee, neither willing nor capable of defending themselves or fighting for what is rightfully theirs. It matters not if the intruding party is a man, a hound, an automobile, or even a strong gust of wind... the weakness and ineptitude of these pitiable creatures are all-too-easily brought to light.

As the raven again tries to make its escape, The Arbiter stoops down and grabs it in his large, gloved hands. He stands back up and turns to fully face the camera, keeping the now-hysterical bird secure even as it pecks and bites and scratches at his sleeved arms and gloved hands.

A truly pathetic and broken-down creatures, even by the standards of others in its flock.

At this point, The Arbiter lifts his brown eyes to the camera.

In this regard, one The Top Destruction is not so different from his namesake. This week, he finds himself knelt before the throne of judgment, at the mercy of The Arbiter. The Top Destruction, you are indeed like this... this thing in my hands. When faced with opposition smaller than you, that you can feed upon without fear of it fighting back or getting away, you are a large man indeed. But when something larger... or someone larger... shows his face and challenges you...

Suddenly, inexplicably, the raven's struggles cease. It goes silent and still in the The Arbiter's cupped hands, eerily mirroring the deaths and disintegrations of all other living things the The Arbiter has laid his hands on.

You fail, completely and utterly.

The Arbiter tilts his head back downwards, gazing at the still creature in his hands.

This is such an instance. The Top Destruction, you show cavalier hubris and bold arrogance in the face of your impending judgment. Part of me is tempted to admire this... but prior experience argues against it. Many have laughed in the face of The Arbiter, spat in the face of judgment... and they paid dearly for it, just as you shall pay for it.

The Arbiter suddenly squeezes his hands together, completely enveloping the raven within them. A moment later, he opens them... and out flies a raven, full of life and with two fully functional wings. The Arbiter watches as it rises higher and higher in the sky, finally free of its earthly clutches, and rushes to rejoin the rest of its flock. He then turns back to the camera, his eyes seeming to blaze even brighter.

That will not happen to you, The Top Destruction. In our match at the pay per view, there will be no no-showing, no healing, no escape... and no mercy. You WILL face me, you WILL face judgment, and just like all others to have come before you, the eyes of -I- shall find you wanting.

With that, The Arbiter turns and begins walking away from the camera, down the dirt road and into the sunset. The camera pans upwards, capturing the miraculously healed raven as it continues to ascend higher and higher into the sky. The scene slowly fades to black, after which the following words fade into existence on-screen.

Soon.

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