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Date Posted: 03:13:29 11/26/00 Sun
Author: 'The Perfect One' Anton Rayge
Subject: Hate...then again...(Rayne, Daher)






{Anton Rayge stood on top of the building, looking down at the run down streets of Los Angels, California. The City of One Hundred Bums, he liked to call it, and a look of disgust crawled on his face even as he thought of the name. He wiped some rainwater from his face an off his newly grown goatee. Only as he wiped it did he realize that he hadn't shaved the rest of his face in several days, for now the small beard, instead of standing distinct on his face, fell to ragged edges across his face.

Anton didn't care.

The wind pulled many strands of his long, flowing hair from the tie in tha back of his head, the wayward lengths slapping across his face, stinging his dark eyes.

Anton didn't care.

He stared down at the city and tried hard to stare inside himself. He had lived here for a very long time, building a reputation as a hardened bassass. But here, he stood looking over the city with a less than awed look on his face. In fact, there was no expression on his face. The rain slanted now, right into his face. He didn't even flinch as he stood up to his full height and looked around, pulling his black trenchcoat around him, his hair whipping all over the place as he looked behinde him. There stood Guy Darling, his personal interviewer, and a cameraman, who looked equally pissed and wet as Anton.

Anton didn't care.

He gaze again turned over the rooftops of Los Angeles. Lights turned on and off, and starlight danced around the puddles of water that formed at there feet, making a almost silvery liquid appear on the ground. Anton stared, and wondered why he had come back here. Back to the place where his tormenting had began, back to where the people of his past had shaped the Anton of today. He looked at a puddle...looked at it long and hard. it was beautiful...very beautiful. Anton was lost in it, lost in the beauty that it gave out, and it almost seem to draw him in. Why did he come back here? He looked closer to the silvery puddle until everything seemed to fade away...everything seemed to lost their sound, and all Anton could see and hear was the beauty of the silverliquid in front of him.

Anton didn't care.

He quickly looked away and into the sky. What a waste of time and thought. He didn't care anymore, he didn't want any part of this god forsaken place. He remembered, in this very town, when he was beaten up by 10 other guys, and they had tortured him to the brink of death. When he had pushed them each, one by one, to the same limit, he sat down with himself and realized that he was, indeed, a monster, someone who thrived in the beating of others. He even kept a diary about it, but he long ago stopped taking down the notes of his days. It was the last boy he beat, the 10th one, that he stopped. he didn't know why, maybe it was because he knew what he was becoming, and didn't want any part of it, or maybe it was because keeping a diary was childish?

Anton didn't care.

He pulled out a wrinkled peice of paper, worn and some what torn and unfolded it, being careful not to pull to hard for fear of it ripping. He stared at the peice, the rain falling down it, reading off the words in his mind...}

Often I sit and ponder the turmiol I feel when when my fists are at rest, when all the world around me seems at peace when I am not. This ideal, peace, is which I thought I strived for, but I now realize that I am a monster. Peace isn't in me, war is, and not only war, torture, pain, suffering...THIS is what I strive for.

I know that I have lost my ability to empathize. All the hell that I was put through, the beatings, burnings and mental anguish that my mind, body, and spirit have gone through makes me think the problems of others petty, and aren't even worth the time of day, that their pain is trivial compared to the monumental trials I have suffered. My pains were so great at the hands of others that no empathy is left...only pain.

I fear this above all else, and I fear it because I know that one day I will want to begin a family and without empathy, this will be impossible, but for some reason, I can't bring myself to care. I fear that my loss has no cure.

The loss of empathy is something I know I have lost, but I care little. I care for nothing anymore, not even my own life. Wrestling, girls, friends...everything seems so small...It was not a feeling that he liked, but a feeling he welcomed because the loss of caring for others was fine by him...but still...the loss of epmathy might well be the most enduring and deep-cutting scar of all, the silent blade of an unseen enemy, tearing at our hearts and stealing more then our strength. Stealing our will, for what are we withough epmathy? What manner of joy might we find in our lives if we cannont understand the joys and pains of those around us?

Whatever the reason, it all fails to bring any understanding to me. One day, I will change, not only me, but the face of the world. I will bring them an understanding of what I felt in my earlier years, and whoever has spoken badly of me, will be broken by my hands. This will come to pass...I swear...

{Anton crumpled up the paper and threw it over the edge. He had carried that letter with him for YEARS...and he just threw it away. It tumbled down and didn't even hit the ground before it blew away into the streets below. He realized he had made a name for himself, brought everyone to realize his pain, but one thing remained...he still hated himself.

Anton didn't care.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Guy Darling make his way towards him with a microphone. Only then did Anton realize that it had stopped raining...and dawn was beginning to appear. Guy stopped a good five feet behinde Anton. Anton slowly turned and faced his interviewer and friend, his black trenchcoat billowing in the wind somewhat, his hair in what you could only call a "neat disarray" now that the wind had stopped. Anton smiled, and Guy cocked his head in suprise.}

Guy: Are you in a good mood Anton?

Anton: Good mood? Nope, far from it, my fine feathered friend. I am, in fact, in one of the foulest moods ever. Call me synical.

Guy: You're synical. Well Anton, I have a reason for you to be happy.

Anton: Yeah? And what's that? Did I become the Gladiator Champion by some default?

Guy: HA HA!! Right. No my big friend, The Brotherhood of Agony is up and at 'em.

{Anton looked at the night sky with a look of happiness. Finally, his life's work is off the ground. He told the GWA that he had built a force to be reckoned with...and now they would finally realize the truth of his words.}

Guy: Well, with that said...you have been in quite a slump lately Anton...what's up?

Anton: Guy-dude...sometimes I juat can't handel the stress...I've been concentrating more on The Brotherhood than on acual wrestling for a bit now...but all that's about to change.

Guy: Really? How so?

Anton: Well...I don't know...say, who am I facing on Wensday?

Guy: I dunno...

{Anton smirks.}

Anton: Idiot. Tell me how much I pay you again.

Guy: Enough...hold on.

{Guy opens up his cell phone and speed dials GWA Headquarters.}

Woman's Voice: Hello?

Guy: Guy Darling, Brotherhood Manager. I need Anton Rayge's matchs for Wensday.

Woman's Voice: Just a moment sir.

{Guy rolls his eyes as an automated voice answers.}

Voice: The matches for {Anton Rayge} are as follows: Rayne vs Anton Rayge vs Jim "The Icon" Daher. That is all.

{Guy presses the power button and folds up his cell phone. He looks at Anton, who is staring off into the stars again. Guy stops for a moment as he looks at the big man. He's known Anton since his days in the NGW, almost three years, and he's never seen him so distraught. He belived that Anton was one of the strongest men alive, able to muscle his way out of any hold and win any match, but if only he put his mind to it. Lately, he has seemed to lose his flare, his hunger for gold...and to win. He sighed as he put his cell phone in his breast pocket and walked over to Anton.}

Guy: Rayne, you and Daher are all facing each other.

Anton: Daher? Rayne?

Guy: Right.

{Anton chuckled and leaned on the edge of the building, looking straight down. Rayne and Daher. How intresting. He's watched them both closely, as he watches all wrestlers just to make sure if he ever faced them, he would know there style. Rayne he knew to be Hardcore, for his constant attacks on various people with chains and such. Daher took after The Rock, so he didn't have much depth to him or his wrestling style. This would be easy, a break from competitors like Reina Saiaki and Dark Tiger, who couldn't be shadowed becasue of their unperdictability. He sighed a thunderous sigh and stood up to full height and streched. He would live his life one day at a time, and deal with the past as best as possible. He sighed again, and looked around and grabbed Guy by the shoulders and went towards the door.

This would prove intresting.

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