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Society's Abomination's Bio

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Societys Abomination’s Bio

Name: 'L’Abomination ' Society’s Abomination
Real Name : Armand Vigée-Lebrun
From: Bordeaux, France
Age: 27
Height: 6' 2"
Weight: 218lbs
Style: Shootfighter / Technician
Catchphrases : The abominations of the world will one day rise to take control, what will you do then

Some say God hated me, but who believes in God anyway?

In Ring Appearance : A pair of dark red wrestling tights with a bolt of lightning on the outside of each leg and the word L'Abomination printed in gold along the back trim, a pair of black boots with AVL embroided onto the side in gold writing
Out Of Ring Apearance : A black suit with a white T-shirt, and a pair of black dressed shoes
Pin Finish: Question Of Morality [Diamond Cutter From The Top Rope]
Submission Finish: Jeu D'Extrémité [Knee Placed Into Your Opponents Back While There Head Is Trapped In A Headlock, Always Leaning Back Making Sure To Extend The Neck, causing Asphixiation ]
Trademark Move : L’Abomination [Death Valley Driver]
Entrance Video :
Current Federation : TWF
Status : Active
Federations Competed In : TWF
TWF Titles And Accomplishments : TWF Heavyweight Championship, TWF Tag Team Championship, TWF Smashmouth Representative (May 04)
Background :

Let me set the scene for you, a tiny chld born ripped from his mothers womb after only 6 months of a pregnancy. A grandfather and grandmother who had repeatedly tried to flush the abomination from the system of there daughter. Why would you do that? Why would they want to rid the world of there first born gandchild? One simple reason, this child was not virginal, he was not innocent in there eyes, he was just a reminder of the pain, the pain of parents unable to protect there fourteen year old daughter, the child who’s own innocence was taken from her and left her mentally scarred, the child was no angel, it was in there eyes Society’s Abomination.

I was left at the side of the road, I was two minutes old. They believed I was still born, for I didn’t cry as they pulled me from the comfort of her womb, I couldn’t cry, a needle has once been there attempt to rid the world of me, a needle sent piercing through the stomach of there daughter aimed for me but somehow the missed the head and only caught the side of my neck, as a tiny child I was lucky to survive, but the damage to my vocal chords was done, I was unable to communicate, unable to cry out for help.

A tiny package left at the side of the road, left to die by the family who had rejected me, the family who held me responsible for everything wrong with their live, for everything wrong in the world. 4 minutes gone now, hypo-thermia starting to set into the tiny frame. God was already set to end the life of themistake that lay in his road, end the life of the thing that had arrived onto his mortal plain but then a sign of hope, a car pulled up, a woman stepped out her gasp was heard for miles around, she to thougth I was dead. Luckily she checked anyway, she felt the breath brush her cheer, she plucked me from my grave and sat me into the car, soon she jumped in and headed for the nearest hospital

Ten minutes later I was placed in a ventalator, tubes hooked up to every part possible, my vital signs disappearing by the second and the doctors trying everything they can think up to try and keep me in the realms of the living. Move forward three months and still I lie in hospital but now my condition is far improved. Breathing on my own able to drink milk and a the woman has continued to drop in and take care of me, a new mother had shown herself to me and I was doing my damndest to make sure I didn’t die on her

I was released from hosiptal at the age of 18 months, the doecotrs had implanted a new advancement into my throat, a box to aid the delevopment of my vocal chords. I was able to cry now, you’ve never seen a woman so overjoyed at hearing a baby cry for the first time as she was when she laid me down onto the white matress. Her name was Marié Déchamps, a single woman with no children of her own, she lived on the outskirts of Paris. I later found out that she made the trip from Paris to Bordeaux daily to see me and to care for me at the hospital, she’ll never know how grateful I am to her

At the age of seven my whole world started to fall apart. Marié started to suffer agonising headaches, she couldn’t stand once they started and colapsed to her knee’s in every occasion, I remember finding her face down in the bath once, the fit so severe that she had no control over herself and almost drowned, I pulled her free and called for the docotr. After getting her numerous tests she was diagnosed with a blood clot on her brain, the doctors said it was inoperable, there was nothing that could be done for her, they were sorry… sorry was all they could say to her after that

Sorry we’ve no drugs for your pain

Sorry we have no idea how to make you well again

What they meant was, sorry but you are going to die

I remember keeping a bedside vigil as she was passing away, she told me the story of how she found me about what the doctors said about the scar on the side of my neck, I sat in tears trying to understand why my own family had done that to me, left me to die like a shot animal. She then asked me to fulfil one promise for her, she wanted me to make something of myself, to make sure I had a good life, I agreed and then I watched as her eyes flicked shut, her mouth slowly saying three final words, I..love…you.

After Marié’s death I found myself alone again, nine years old and I was placed in an orfanage. They did there best to help find my real family. They tried to help me forget Marié, I could never forget about her, she was my saviour for nine years of my life and then she was snatched from me, the way he snatched my own family from me, the days and months passed as I wilted away in the orphanage, my dreams started to consist of the faces of death, watching horrible accidents happen in my mind helped me cope with the piece of s*** that was my life

Then it happened, five years and ten days after arriving at the orphanage I was called into a small room and introduced to Sara Dubouti, she had a tear in her eyes as she hugged me. I pulled away and asked who she was, ‘I’m your mother’ was her reply, I fell to my knee’s. Finally a chance to live with my family, a chance for things to become somewhat normal. I packed as fast as possible and then she led me out to the car, I saw a woman sitting in the front seat and then she opened the door for me, she was introduced as my grand mother

She drove us out to a small vine yard just a few miles from Bordeaux, once we stepped from the car a man started to shout from the distance. ‘What the hell is he doing here? I warned you not to bring him here’. They both showed fear as he stomped towards them, I had no idea who he was but I watched in anger as his hand slammed into the side of both my mother’s and my grandmother’s faces. I watched in anger as he looked at me with disgust and hatred burning in his eyes, he reached down and grabbed my arm, he led me to the barn and pushed me inside slamming the door shut and then locking it. ‘That’s where it belongs. With the rest of the animals’

two days passed before my grandmother slipped out and opened the door, my eyes red with tears as she handed me a plate of food, she watched me eat it with a hand placed on hy head slowly rubing my hair, her affection stopped only by a door shutting at the house, she jumped up and tried to run to the barn door but she wasn’t quick enough as my grandfather pulled it open and he caught her with a stinging right hand that sent her to the straw riddled floor, her nose bleeding profusely, he looked at her and then at me his hand raised ‘This is all your fault’, he started to move towards me and my grandmother tried to stop him, he threw her off and she lay unconcious after her head bounced off a wooden bean that lay on the floor, my grandfather walked towards me and I wet myself as he grabbed my arm and dragged me to my feet

‘I should have finished the job fifteen years ago’ He grabbed me by the neck and he started to choke the life from me, he was a giant man, a true farmer, the life was slowly being squeezed from me as he lifted me from the floor. I lashed out wth a kick that broke his grip on me, I landed hard on the floor and then he picked up a shovel

‘I won’t make a mistake this time’ He pulled the shovel up and was about to slam it down when suddenly he collapsed to the floor, I opened my eyes to see my mother standing there with a piece of timer in her hands, she stands quivering with fear as her father’s blood flows from his newly found head wound, she takes my hand and leads me from the barn, she takes me out to the house and sits me down to tell me the story of why I was abandoned

I find out that my mother was raped as a fourteen year old by a man who her father had employed to plough the fields. Once my mother found out she was pregnant her parents started to think up ways to have the child aborted, but no matter what they did I survived, I was told the story of the needle being plunged into her stomach, I put that together with the marking on my neck and realised what had happened. She started to tell me how sorry she was about how she wished she’d done things differently but I didn’t listen, I turned and walked away, I hid in the woods for a while untill I saw my grandfather and grandmother return to the house

I saw the slaps in the lights, there shadows falling to the floor as my grandfather gave both women a beating, I watched as one by one each retired to bed and then I waled back towards the house, all I ahd in my mind was to get my revenge on them, to have my revenge for what they’d done to me all those years ago. These people were not my family, how could they haveleft me to die had they loved me? If they’d wanted me? Well if they didn’t want me to live in this world, then I didn’t want them to either

I looked around, I found some gasoline sitting by the car. I take it and start to pour it onto the wooden steps of the porch, I walk up and into the house, I go into the kitchen and seach for some matches, I am unable to find them, I continue to search and I find a candle in the bathroom. I pick it up and head back outside, I drop it as I step from the porch and then I watch as the house slowly becomes engulfed in flames, I listened for the screams of my mother and grandmother but none came as the smoke started to fill the house

I watched as a figure apeared on the proch, it was covered in flames and it ran towards me collapsing as it tripped over the porch, I saw it was my grandfather, he rolled on the grass putting the flames out but still he lay in agony from the first degree burns all over his body, he looked up at me a look of surprise. ‘You, you did this, I knew you’d be the death of my family, I knew I should have killed you when I had the chance”

He tried to get up but the burns kept him on the grass, then the screaming began, I looked up in time to see my mother at the window, her eyes filled with fear, and then the house collapsed in on itself, my grandfather watched as his home and his family was taken from him, a tear in his eyes as he watched the flames burn

I turned and walked to the barn, I knew he would follow me, I picked up the shovel before he came in and as he entered I slamed it into his skull, he fell backwards and his neck landed onto a pitch fork, I looked down at him as he held out his hand pleading for my help, now it was his turn to feel alone, his turn to be left to die. I spat down at him as I dropped the shovel and walked out of the barn, I heard the final scream from the flames as I walked off down the dark road. I jumped to the side as I saw the police cars and the fire trucks arrive at the scene

Took care to watch as three bodies were placed into bags and taken away by an ambulance, I had no guilt for the act, no remorse. They hated me and because of what they did I hated them, I did to them what they would have done to me, I just got there first. It was March 12th 1992, I took my revenge on March 12th 1992.

After that I went back to Paris, I lived on the streets for a few years, made my money from petty theft. I learned to hold my own on the streets, I had to, I’d been mugged too many times when I first arrived to not learn to fight back. I found myself at an underground fighting ring. I was told that it was 30 francs to the loser and 50f to the winner. It was an offer I took quickly, if I had a good night I could have as many as four fights, making at least 120 a night. The opponents became stronger as the night went on, after so long you had to just give in you didn’t have the energy to continue

After ten months as a street fighter I was approached by Michael Deveraux, a man with contacts was how he introduced himself. He helped me to make more money from the underground fights, he took a 15 percent cut of the nights winings and in exchange he set up the fights and halped get my face known to the other fighting circuits in France

At 18 Michael took me to England for a few weeks, he had me compete in Blackpool, Manchester and Leeds. Seven fights a night for two weeks, I lost when was told to. You had to leave the crowd thinking you could be beat, if you didn’t then no-one would accept the fight and then you were left in a foreign country with no money making ability

Michael took me around Europes prize fighting circuits, stopping off at Germany, Belgium, Russia, Greece and Romania to name a few but soon the money began to dry up, I wasn’t anythign special anymore, we’d been everywhere and beaten the best they had to offer, we had to make a new break, Michael decided that America was the best place to go, for they were the real players in the underworld fighting market, we decided to stop off in South America first to make some new contacts there

Buenos Aries and Sau Paulo were the hardest tasks, both had different tactical skills to what I had envisioned, each competitor had a new style and I had to learn to adapt quickly or face being humiliated, we went around a few of the smaller known places first before heading to Mexico, we spent three months there honing my skills, and making more money. It ws there we found Escobar Gonzalez, Escobar was a trainer and untill now I had done all my training alone

Escobar was desperate to help us out, he offered to take just 5 percent of the earnings, he aid he was sure that would be more than adaquate. Michael had heard that he was the best trainer in the country and he snapped up the offer, after that Escobar joined us as we made our way to America. He knew a few of the men to get us more fights, and with each fight I learned a new skill, from more martial arts to boxing and now wrestling, the fighters in America were more varied than anywehere in the world, there influences from all over the globe

Now I was 25 I’d been fighting for almost 8 years and now I no longer fought five matches a night, it was a minimum of eight. In the US I was making between 600$ a loss and 2500$ a win, the best money around. I’d always been careful with my money and had plenty left in the bank when the underground ring we were at was busted by the FBI, Michael, Escobar and myself were threatened with deportation unless we would co-operate, Escobar did as asked and gave up the names of the men responsible for the ring

He had thought it was anonymously but the FBI released exactly who had given out the information, leaving the three of us with no connection in the fighting world, I’ve lived in America since then, its coming up on two years now. At the time of my forced retirement I had fought 3423 fights I had won 2977, at least 700 of them were by unanimous decicion the rest were because my opponent was phyisically unable to continue the fight.

Since then I’ve had small jobs that have satisfied for a while but its time to lace up the boots again and start fighting once more, it’s the only way to feel good about myself, the only way I can get rid of the anger I hold deep in my heart, so now Michael has decided to contract me to a wrassling federation, in which I can halp make him more money and help to make myself feel good about myself and to feel good about what I do