A
lament voice is heard echoing out into
darkness.
Narrator:
Whoever
appeals to the law against his fellow man is
either a fool or a coward. Whoever does not take
care of themselves of law is both. For wounded man
shall say to his assailant in battle, "if
I live I will kill you. If I die you are
forgiven."
such as the rule of honor and respect.
*******************************************************************************
Broken
the paradigm an example must be set
The tongues of men and angels bought by a beloved
betrayer.
I am the result what's better left unspoken
A
weakling who has painful moments of reminiscence
A
hallucinations of sober individual
what's
awakened to cruel reality is your craven.
Violence begins to mend what was broken
You've been talking, I've been all ears.
Daniel
De Marco.
Words
meant to dwell in darkness shall never see the
light of day
Words can be broken, so can bones,
Words
slip tongue, so
acrid you remonstrate aching for repertoire.
Words
mean nothing with proportion of your beckoning
soul aching for desire. A moment your vindictive
only flows with vanity shall be detract.
Violence
begins to mend what was broken
You've been talking, I've been all ears
The
Great Malinko.
Cheaply
venal, stupidly verbose
A slip of situation, a slip of disseverment
Seven feet under no marker
Your
despair is near.
A
simple malignant virus, a threat, so fragile, can
be the most destructive thing when a dormant near.
Your
life is ready for disposal
A
tomb is prepared for your afterlife.
You
shall fear what’s coming before you.
Keep my name from your mouth forever.
Free speech for the living, dead men tell no tales
You shall rest in peace.
Grizzly
Z.
*******************************************************************************
-Scene
Open-
A
silent dull, dark, and soundless night, when the
clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, he
passed, through a singular path, at length he
found himself, as the shades of the evening drew
on, within view of the workshop. He knows not how
it was, but with the first glimpse of the
building, a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded
his spirit. He looked upon the scene, upon the
mere structure, and the simple landscape features
of the domain. Upon the bleak walls, upon the
vacant eye-like windows, upon a few rank sewages
and upon a few white trunks of decayed trees an
utter depression of soul which can compare to no
earthly sensation more properly than to the lair
of Guyver himself.
With his soulless cloak blending into the dusking
backdrop, his shadow in darkness shifts his way
across the ill crossed lawn. Step by step he
takes, whistling the tune of a remembered melody.
Coming to a verse, he looks up into the cloudily
sky and speaks softly.
"One.
Two. The Great Malinko, Daniel De Marco, Grizzly Z
is coming for you...".
The
crooked smile, which accompanies the sadistic,
intends of the cloaked many match the intensity of
the forcefulness he uses to slide the iron door
open.
The room in which he found himself was very large
and dusky. The windows were long, narrow, and
pointed, and at so vast a distance from the black
oaken floor as to be altogether inaccessible from
within. Feeble gleams of light made their way
through the dust-covered panes, and served to
render sufficiently distinct the more prominent
objects around the eye. However, struggled the
light in vain to reach remote angles of the room
and he see recesses vaulted and dilapidated
ceiling near him.
Building tools hung upon the walls. Saw’s and
fashioning tools to precedent for this craftsman.
The general furniture was profuse, comfortless,
antique, and tattered. Many books and tools lay
scattered about, but failed to give any vitality
to the scene. It felt that when breathed an
atmosphere of sorrow is consumed with each breath.
An air of deep, and irredeemable gloom hung over
and surrounded all.
Post examination of the scene determined exactly
what he thought, a tragedy. At glance into his
cold hands, a chain is wrapped around burnt,
disfigured fingers. Deep in the palms rests the
lock for the workshop door.
"Three. Four. Better lock your doors..."
Tossed
is the useless deterrent into the pile of debris
that is this domicile. Where it lands startles the
calmness of the surrounding. Metal clanking,
followed by a large boom and a cloud of dust.
On examining the table, amid cobwebs, dirt and
debris lays a book. Covered with dust of time and
raged into neglect, the overseer clutches it in
his hands, and brushes the remaining soot to
uncover its title.
Holy Bible
Guyver
kneel down as he pray.
"Lord,
make me hurt The Great Malinko, let me bring down
your wrath onto Grizzly Z, let me demolish Daniel
De Marco, and lead these men back to their
miserable life's of confusion, devastation, and
despair. Make them feel the pain that I unleash on
the sadistic creatures tomorrow night. And,
forgive me of what am about to do to them.
Amen."
The silence is replaced by a ghastly chuckle, as
he stands, followed by an eerie sentence.
"Five.
Six. Better pray and wish..."
Amid
glance of replacing the book back onto the table,
he noticed an object protruding from the table.
His hand reaches out for this round, smooth
object. Its recently made grooves are rough, even
on the roughest hands. A handle. It appears stuck
into this metal table, as though with intention,
driven into the edge with great force. With
forceful twisting this malicious instrument is set
free, as though Excalibur has parted from the
stone, and the new king was crowned.
Dark surroundings make it difficult to examine
with the castled off light. Its lifted close to
the ambiguous figure as the outline of barbed wire
nearly touches his face.
"Seven.
Eight. Nobody is safe..."
Without
warning, he projects the concocted weapon through
the window. Rays of moonlight, piercing through
the cloudy sky find their way into the eyes of the
visitor. Undistinguished in proceed, yet for most
recognizable by all. Except for the few who
mistake this horror as the result what's better
left unspoken!! Violence whisper in echo begins to
mend what was nothing except a shadow lurk
everywhere, and it’s quiet; real quiet, like a
graveyard…DESTORY!...
DESTROY!...DESTROY!
He
walks quietly to the path of least resistance of
back room. The camera gets close to him, the
camera pan towards. He sits in shadow as he looks
in camera. The camera can only see his glow eyes
but rest of his figure is in dark shadow. He
begins to speak.
The
Guyver:
“Malinko, can you hear the violence whisper, is
it as simple as you claim it to be? Your tongue,
your eyes, your lies, they do deceive you; I stand
firm in my solidarity. The path I walk, I walk it
with my own resolve and my own vengeance. I am not
easily impress with your vanity wordily, Malinko.
I’m sure you don’t care about this, but you
should. Do you know why? Because when you step in
the ring with me, you will have to risk it all to
even see a glimmer of hope against me. I don’t
care if you are IC Champion. You’ll have to do
the impossible to spark that flame of desire.
Malinko, you may have to give up your life to make
a name on my expense level. Are you ready to take
that tough vanity desire with you? Or does the
thought in your head of yours make you hesitate?
There’s only one way to find out, that’s to
put it to the test, which you are not the only one
who is put to test in my inferno domain. I will
come at you with everything I bring at you. You
may think you’ve conquered, but the real bitter
truth is you won’t even come close, how pathetic
you will feel, how pathetic you must believe that
you can live up with that arrogance of yours as
purity and worthless deceiver. But then again, I
will show you how unbearable it will feel when
your end has come, that’s when you’ll
understand.”
Narrator:
Out
of those three souls who he shall massacred with
his bare hands on the night, one where Inferno
will burn like bad breath from hell. The smell of
three souls fear, the texture of their pummeled
flesh and the destruction of blood flowing through
the carver streams, and it will aroma his strength
of willpower to their defeatism.
The
Guyver:
“Grizzly Z, ok, first you claim your superman, then you say your not. You are
definitely a lost man. A man that needs guidance, guidance back into the light were your life will be much better. Your far beyond the help of therapists, and doctors though... Tomorrow night, hopefully I am going to knock some sense into. By saying hopefully, I'm not saying that I can't beat you, I can, that is not a question in my mind. I was just saying that because you are a man that is out there, a little too far out their,
you know? That's the only way anyone will have a chance at getting you on the right
path, but you don’t consider rage a liability?
Well I'm sorry to burst your bubble but it
is. I've
been there before, I've got rage every now and
then...Hell, anyone does, you know?
The only difference between you and me is
that you may have rage more often.
It makes you fight with extreme aggression,
but you know what. Aggression is another weakness,
aggression, makes you really sloppy.
Yeah sure, you’re going to be careless,
but that’s also bad, because that will make you
lose concentration on your goal here.
You'll try to take it way too far, and cost
yourself the match. Obviously I've got one thing
that you don't have, a strong heart.
A heart that will do nothing but improve my
abilities, cause me less mistakes, and helps me
focus far better than your rage could ever do.
My heart enables me to take shots from the
best, and it just keep me going. You may have dark
heart, but you better be prepared to meet fear,
the fear of losing what little you have in life,
nothing last’s forever. But that’ won’t stop
the inevitable, nothing will stop me from
decimating your sorry ass back to where you can
carry out your rage in another world for the rest
of your miserable life.”
Narrator:
A
simply human, a man only bowing and praying
forgiveness of the lord, only bowing and defeating
the enemies of the lord.
The Guyver:
”Daniel De Marco, you are truly a sad confuse
individual. Pain, the feeling of weakness, leaving
the body, a feeling that can be learned, such a
feeling that strengthen the mind, but your mind is
wasted. But what happens when that pain is no
longer needed? What happens when the mind can
block out pain, and no longer allow it to be felt?
When pain is no more, the boundaries of possible
are endless. When weakness is no more, your
emotions vanish, and heart blackens, that other
side, the dark side, is hungrier for desire, a
type of desire that prays for this state of mind
to end. Some do get better, the ones that want to.
Do you want to end this dark and weary past; if
you do then you would surely find a way out of it.
Well, that is if your heart hasn’t died already.
Once that happens you will be lost from the
happiness that I reap, on the other hand, you got
it all wrong before I came back SFT after six
month. But I've been hired to return SFT, and that
unfortunate job for the likes involves me kicking
your ass! A freedom I do whatever the hell I like
outside of SFT is none of your damn business,
that’s why they're calling me back...I got life
in me to continue on fighting again, and its not
watching the people who at very bottom ladder in
last six month. I had other business to take of
oversea then sitting on my ass and eating junk
food, watching you guys fight each week, cause
only a twisted fuck like you have no reason to
poke around of what I did in the past six month,
so get your fact straight before you make wrong
conclusion you sorriest son of bitch.”
Narrator:
He
will continues destroy the darkness eerie that
surrounded his peace but what stopping him is the
Revelation...
"So
I looked, and behold, a pale horse, and the name
of him who sat on it was death, and hades followed
with him. " Rev. 6:8
The Guyver: “My
final word from my mouth is go ahead guys, give me
your best shot, that’s what I have lived for,
and will continue to live for. I won't back down, a guarantee; I meant it in your face when each
four of us individual fight in the ring. The pain
I carry inside is real and come soon you three
will experience it for the first time of my
return. There is plenty of non-believers here at
SFT who doesn't know how wrathful I can be, except
for those who met their maker, and one's quick
demise their defeatism."
The Light Grew
Heavenly bright, whiting out the camera, where the
only thing you could see was Guyver's leer and the
light shining from his eyes. As quickly as the
light shined, it blew out with an explosion and
glass hitting the floor. SFT Inferno logo ignited
in fire on the farthest wall from the camera,
revealing the Inferno: The Night of Fire. The
scene slowly fade as the logo burned out.
-Scene
Fade-
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