Prologue: When I Was Born..I Was Born The Man!..And When You Step on That Apron Your Ass Becomes Part of The Game That I'm The Man In!
Fade up the Sin Wrestling logo.
In any profession, whether it be athletic or educational, police work or criminal, there will always be one person that stands out above all else. That one man will set the standard that all others will be held to and more often than not, that standard will never be met.
"I AM..... THE MAN!!"
To be compared to the likes of Hulk Hogan or Ric Flair can be one man's greatest achievement. Meant as a compliment, to the best of the best, it is an insult. In the mind of the best, there is no comparison. There is no one on their level and there never will be. It becomes the career of the best to remain the best, to hold off the top of the mountain and fight away all those who seek to claim it as their own. To fight back the threat of elevation for all they are worth.
The theory of elevation is a myth creamed over by internet fan boys. No matter who is on top, the complaints about lack of elevation are evident. For years, they will scream that a man deserves a world championship push and when he receives it, he immediately becomes public enemy number one and another up and comer takes his place as the internet golden boy. Because of the lack of elevation, the fans coined the term "glass ceiling," meaning that the mid-carders could look up through the glass ceiling and see the main event but could never quite reach it. Constantly bumping their heads into the ceiling with no sign of it giving in.
Sid was never the internet golden boy.
Sid made his presence known in Noah Japan for the first time.Immediately upon Entering NOAH, began an intense feud with Kenta Kobashi...Whom he Defeated In an incredible Semifinal match for the NOAH Championship.He eventually went to the finals of the NOAH championship,but lost to Ikuto Hidaka
Although Sitting around and relaxing after his loss, had its perks,this did not suit the self-proclaimed "Man." It was time to return to Wrestling and claim the one belt that should've been his from the beginning. Sid made his appearence in FMW, made his intentions known, and crushed Hisakatsu Oya in his first match .
Sid made the challenge to Hayabusa,and made the promise that the FMW's Show at the Tokyo Egg Dome would be the site where a new Champion would be crowned. Sid and Hayabusa wrestled an epic match, lasting upwards of forty minutes, before Sid hit the Death Trap and put the legendary performer's other foot in the grave, staking claim to his first world championship. "The Man" had finally reached the pinnacle of his career, 5 years of struggling in Pro Wrestling paying off once and for all. Sid's career was riding high .
And then it all came crashing down.
Atushi Onita took over FMW from Hayabusa and his first act of business was to strip all champions of their titles with the intention of crowning new ones later in the night. Sid didn't agree with this method and refused to take part. He threw down the FMW Heavyweight championship and walked away for what he thought would be forever.
Onita failed. FMW was broken. Hayabusa returned to pick up the pieces and announced that forty-five men would do battle in the main event of a PPV entitled Brawl for all . Forty-five men would do battle and one man would walk out with the Frontier Martials arts Wrestling World Heavyweight Championship. After his first reign had ended so suddenly, Sid had to show them that they made a mistake by robbing him of his championship. He entered himself in the match. Everyone immediately wrote him off as hype. A man FMW had washed out before he could become washed up. Many heralded Komazawa Olympic Park Gym as the place where a new contender would step up and take the crown. Veteran, hungry superstars the Likes of Vicious Vic Grimes,Stan"the Lariat"Hansen And Big Van Vader came from all over to try their hand in the main event.
In one match, Sid climbed the ladder to the very top of Frontier Martial arts Wrestling. Eliminating wrestler after wrestler after wrestler until he was the last man standing.His mask broken,blood staining his features, Sid eliminated The Sadistic ECw Legend Sabu to win the FMW championship for the second time.
Forty-four other men came from all over the world to win the title and "The Man" turned every single one of them away as if they were children playing a man's game. Sid showed every single one of them exactly why he was the man to beat. Sid established once and for all that he has broken through that glass ceiling
And now With Sid firmly back in place, panicked. The wrestlers were threatening to quit if something wasn't done about the living, breathing, ass kicking machine known to many as Sid"The Man"Frankenstein. People were getting concussions left and right thanks to Sid and his arsenal of Ring side Weapons, until one night, Hayabusa pulled the trigger that would almost kill Sid's once and for all.
The match was for the FMW World Championship. Sid versus Mr. Gannosuke versus Mammoth Sasaki. Sid dealt out punishment left and right, taking advantage of them like they were first match rookies until Willy "Hido" Takayama and Tetsuhiro Kuroda arrived at ringside on the orders of Hayabusa, distracting Sid long enough for Gannosuke to sneak a pin on Sasaki to steal the world championship.
Sid cornered Ganosuke,Takayama and Kuroda and his ensuing revenge was so fierce, so brutal, so very, very awe inspiring, that Hayabusa had no choice but to Fire Sid before lives were lost.
For nearly three years, the wrestling world had continued on without Sid and the wrestlers have let out a sigh of relief. Elevation has occurred in his absence and new stars have been born. It wasn't until Sin Wrestling opened its doors that Sid decided it was time to make another impact. In a promotion ruled by Corey Page,Sid felt it was his duty to show them what real talent was like.
After sitting back and watching the business evolve without him, he decided that it was time to return, to show the up and comers that they are not the Man.
I have been Crucified for the sins of my humanity ...
Crucified for the sins of my compassion ...
Crucified for the sins of my past ...
By the flesh of my flesh, and the blood of my blood,
Zimdela You will not crucify me
The sudden knocking on the bathroom door brought me back to the present by startling me so badly that I nearly slit my throat. The razor slipped from my hand, slicing my palm as it fell into the sink. The pain that should have registered remained numb, leaving me wondering if I was capable of feeling anything at all. I watched the blood pool in my hand, vibrant and red and so supposedly full of life, then trickle down my arm before splattering drop by drop onto the sand-colored marble. There shouldnít have been anything left to bleed out, yet the blood flowed, a part of me that still insisted on fighting when every ounce of my being wanted only to lay down my arms and accept defeat. Iíd been struggling against myself my entire life, fighting so many battles against my own mind and body that I should have torn myself in half years ago.
"Look," the voice on the other side of the door said, "I donít know what youíre doing in there, but for it to be taking this long, youíre either puking your guts out or whacking off. Either way, hurry it up. Iíve really gotta pee."
"Charly?" I asked, so drained that I could not muster surprise, though surprise was what I certainly should have been feeling. Why on earth was she still here? Hadnít I told her to go away last night, or had I dreamt that, too?
You didnít dream anything, the voice in my head reminded me. I should have thought any number of things in response, like that I was lucky to be alive, or that I had finally those deserters, or that at some point last night four college girls had stripped me naked, but my mind settled on what in the hell is it going to take to get rid of this girl?
I had to get rid of her. I had to get rid of her right now. Because, if it didnít, I was going to fall to fucking pieces on her and there was no way Iíd be able to control what happened next.
"Get out of here!" I yelled, sliding off the counter and throwing open the door, scaring myself with the severity of my voice as badly as I scared her. She let out a scream as she stumbled backwards and struggled to maintain her footing.
"Why?" she asked, suddenly very small and very afraid.
I said the only words that came to mind, the words that Iíd spent the past year of my life both running from and rushing forward to meet. "Because I murdered who has ever come close to me,including my loved ones and if you donít get out of here this instant, Iím afraid Iím going to murder you, too." There. It was said. If that didnít get her out the door, nothing would.
She nodded as though she didnít understand, swallowing hard as she absorbed the impact of my words. "Okay," she said after a moment, the severity of reality finally falling upon her. "Fine, whatever you want. Just, please, let me in the bathroom for a minute first. I really canít hold it any longer and this place only has one bathroom. Believe me, Iíve looked."
I couldnít think of a way to respond other than to step out of the door and let her in. She paused as she brushed past me, her eyes lingering on my bloody hand.
"Youíre bleeding," she said, and handed me a washcloth before closing the door behind her. I shook my head in disbelief, wrapping the towel around my injured hand. I still couldnít feel anything, nothing at all, and flexed my fingers to make sure I hadnít damaged any nerves. My hand remained numb, so I assumed that had.
"How?" she asked as soon as she reopened the door.
She regarded me with a desire to know that was frightening in its determination. "Tell me how you killed your loved ones."
I stared up at her, my mouth hanging open, my mind almost refusing to formulate a coherent thought. She wanted me to explain to her how I had murdered my first true love? She wanted specifics? She should have been attacking me with my razor because I was standing between her and the door, but she was leaning almost casually against the door frame, arms laced across her chest, eyebrows arched in an inquisitive expression that bordered on demanding.
I shook my head, feeling the tears trying to come again. I couldnít think clearly. Why wasnít she running for her life? I leaned back against the wall unable to support my own weight. I couldnít allow myself to lose my composure in front of her. I couldnít let her see how unstable I really was.
She gently brushed my cheek, a gesture that startled the hell out of me and nearly caused me to knock her hand away.
"Donít let that testosterone kick in," she softly warned.
"Youíre getting ready to pull the whole macho canít cry in front of a woman thing. Donít."
The testosterone insisted I wipe my cheeks to make sure I wasnít crying. I wasnít, Not yet. "What do you care?"
"Why wouldnít I?"
"Iím a murderer."
She smiled, silently asking why I refused to accept the obvious. "You saved my life last night," she said. "Those three guys would have raped me and probably wouldíve killed me if you hadnít come along when you did. Then you kept me from getting thrown in jail and out of school by pretending to kidnap me yourself instead of telling my chaperone the truth."
"I donít even know what the truth is."
She leaned in, so close that I thought she was going to kiss me. I tried to lean back, but hit my head on the wall. "You saved my life last night," She repeated, conviction behind her soothing tone. "You canít be this evil thing that you seem to think you are. You owe yourself the benefit of a doubt."
I wanted to back away from her, but there was nowhere left for me to go. I was as far against the wall as I could get, and I would not be able to get past her unless I moved her. I couldnít get past her, in more than a physical sense. Why did she want to know? Why did she keep pressing the issue? Why was she looking at me like she cared about me, and why did she have to sound like she believed Iíd really saved her life? Why couldnít she see that I was falling apart, that Iíd just tried to kill myself? That I wanted to kill myself? Why couldnít she realize what a favor Iíd be doing the world?
I slid to the floor, collapsing in an awkward and almost painful position. There was a small stain on the carpet by my feet and I fixed my gaze on it, trying my damnedest not to lose it in front of her. I could feel the losing battle in every part of me, every part that just wanted to let go and never have to think about that day again. I never wanted to see the blood on her beautiful face again, never wanted to have another waking nightmare about things had gone so wrong so quickly.
"I was the one that insisted we get married in Vancouver,Brittish Columbia." I began, unable to look at her. "Arly loved it, which surprised the hell out of me, but no more surprised than I already was by the fact that she wanted to get married." I stopped. I couldnít do this.
"Arlene?" Charly eventually prompted.
"Arlene Morgan," I corrected, "but I called her Arly because it drove her crazy.She was my first true Love. I met her at a party when I was twenty. She was eighteen, it was her eighteenth birthday. I didnít know her, or her family, I was there as a representative of a friend who couldnít make it. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and out of all the people at that party, I was the only one she wanted. We were in bed together by the end of the night, even though she knew I had to leave for San Francisco,Cali the next day. I came back to see her, in Atlanta, every chance I could. A couple months into our relationship, she told me we were having a baby."
I shook my head, remembering too many things better left buried. "I panicked.I thought My father died when I was Young . I left home a year later, left everything behind, including my mother and a sister I havenít spoken to in long while. But as scared as I was when she told me, it was the happiest moment of my life. I proposed to her on the spot, but she turned me down, said she didnít want to get married just because I was scared of the child being born illegitimate. I had a half-brother, my fatherís son through an affair he had with my motherís secretary, and that boy grew up in hell because of the way he was born. I didnít want that happening to my Child, but Arlene never would say yes.
"Her parents threw her out of the house when they found out, and she moved in with a friend of hers, since I wasnít in any position to settle down. Then Brianne----Brianne was born, and things were good, or as good as they could be. I kept after her all that time to get married. I was insanely in love with her. I donít think she ever realized what she really meant to me. The one day, 2 years down the road and completely out of nowhere, she called me and told me she was finally ready to get married."
I closed my eyes, forcing the first tears down my cheeks in effort to prevent any more from coming. "I was in Vancouver, doing a job, trying to get some rebel wiccans to release a busload of hostages theyíd taken. I told her if she was serious, to meet me there and weíd do it the next day. She did. She was ecstatic at the thought of getting married somewhere as exotic as Vancouver, and at the thought of doing it the hell away from her family. So she came down, brought our daughter, and we got married at this little church in the village I was staying in." I stopped. I absolutely was not going to go any further.
"What happened?" she asked when I could not continue.
"The reception," I breathed. "We all gathered together back at the hotel I was staying in. Everybody was there-- the guys I was working with, Arleneís best friend, our daughter, a couple dozen natives weíd picked up somewhere along the way. It wasnít much, but it was absolutely perfect. Somebody, I donít know who, decorated the lobby of the hotel with these beautiful white flowers, and theyíd even made us a little cake while we were off getting married. A Mariachi band that wandered in from somewhere, set up and started playing. The music was loud, and terrible for slow-dancing, but after the kind of courtship we had, Iíd never have expected anything conventional. Everybody was dancing, we were all well on our way to being drunk out of our minds. Every single thing was so damn perfect that something had to go wrong." No more. I couldnít bear to face the truth of what had happened that day.
"What went wrong?" Charly asked as I neared my breaking point.
"I think you need to."
"Fuck what you think!" I shouted.
"What went wrong?" She asked again.
I couldnít. But I had to, and not just for her. "There was a break between dances. I told Arlene I had to go to the bathroom. She laughed, she had the most melodious laugh Iíve ever heard, and told me that while I was gone she was going to fall madly in love with someone else and divorce me. It was a joke, of course, we joked like that all the time, and she grabbed O'Connor--one of my best friends--and started dancing with him as the music started up again."
"What happened?" Charly asked.
"I told you," I said. "I killed her."
"You killed her because she danced with your friend?"
"What happened?" she repeated.
I shook my head. I didnít want to remember. "Thatís when the gunfire started."