Where It All Ends

Pressure Point 79
Oct. 20, 2003
Starring: Sharc and Levine
Writer(s): Paul L and Leary

"Five Minutes Alone" hit the speakers for Sharc. The arena became bathed in red lighting, and quickly, Sharc was power walking down the aisle, face full of determination. He walked around the ring, ignoring the fans who were cheering for him and reaching out their hands for a slap. He didn't have the time. He may have been considered a face, but he was still Sharc. And tonight, he was all business.

He slid under the bottom rope and stood center ring. The lights returned to normal and the music died, leaving only the cheers of the crowd. Sharc took a few seconds before he could find the words he wanted to say.

"Death." With that one word, the crowd began to pay attention. "The man who dies is defeated. Unless he brings his foe down with him to hell. Two weeks ago, Levine, KroW, whatever you want to call him, almost defeated me. He almost defeated Amy. Key word almost. In the last week I have been doing a lot of thinking about how I've approached this piece of shit KroW. You see, I don't care about Levine. I'm gonna talk about KroW. Because that's who I wanted, and that's who I got. I asked for this. I can't go back in some fucking time machine and start this over. The avalanche is falling. The tornado is circling in the sky. It's out of my hands now. It's out of everyone's hands now.

"But this thing I realized, is that I'm approaching KroW, thinking and planning on how not to lose and not thinking how to win. Well, KroW. I'm not thinking about losing anymore. I'm thinking about getting lower. Digging myself a hole so I can come join you down in the pit of shit you call your life. Trench warfare. Hand to hand combat. With weapons. And pain. And blood. A trial, to see who truly is a champion, and who is just another man who will be nothing but litter along the path of gold in the land of wrestling giants.

"Levine, the time for mind games aren't over. But the teasing is over. It's time we do this. It's time for you and me to get into this ring. And show the fans of Action who is the most extreme man walking the planet today. To see who will survive in combat, not just in war. KroW. It's time to fight. So why don't you come down here to hear my challenge in person."

No sooner than did Sharc spill the last sentence between his redened lips, than did "Ex Nihilo" blare across the arena. The music of Dark Tranquility immediately envoked the jeering of the crowd, followed by insults being rapidly tossed into the air; as if replacing the verses of the song. Behind the curtain, Levine just smiled arrogantly as he pushed through the thin sheet of cloth and exposed himself to the crowd. His grin soon died down after taking a good look into Sharc's eyes; turning the once arrogant grin, into a look of pure hate. The jeers from the crowd no longer mattered to him, for the only thing that was on his mind was Sharc. But it was unlike how he looked at other enemies, in most cases he looked to just hurt and maim his opponent; but in this case, he had a deep rooted reason to grab Sharc by his throat and bring him within an inch of his miserable life...

The reason was the mystery known as his history.

Levine pushed past the crowds, immediately slipping his leather jacket over his cleanly shaven pale head and throwing it into some idiotic camera man's face. He soon leapt upon the apron and grabbed a microphone from a nearby stage attendant, before stepping through the ropes and getting RIGHT into the face of Sharc. It was in a matter of seconds, but the moment Levine's foot touched the mat, his eyes were locked (a mere 3 inches away) from Sharc. Levine grunted out angrily, as his theme song died down...as Sharc starred right back into Levine's eyes. It was dead silence, as the fans (for once in their miserable and pathetic lives of following shit wrestling since 2002) began to actually become excited at the prospect of watching these two men go at it in the center of the ring. It was a mexican standoff between two wrestlers...no...two warriors (I know you lovers of PIW just love that word; retro KroW) stood a mere inches away from destroying each other. But it was Levine who would break the silence, as he lifted the microphone from his waist...and slowly bring it to his face (of course, invoking the jeers.)

"There are a few things incorrect within your statement Hertz. Number One; you may have asked for KroW, the man who defeated Sylo, the man who killed many men, and the man who captured this championship belt that secures itself around my waist...but what you got, is something far worse than the KroW you know. These morons watching us in this ring, waiting for us to rip each other's heads off; they didn't want the PIW KroW, and you didn't want the PIW KroW. You wanted the rebirth of a man who was far more evil than you could have ever expected...and wave to him, for he is standing right before you," he said with a curl at his upper left lip, "Number Two; You stated you wanted a hand to hand combat; with weapons, pain, blood. You wanted a trial between two men who crave pain, to see who truly is the best. Well Hertz, I hate to break the news to you...but we are in Action Wrestling..."

Here came the verbal bashings. (For those of you who feel that Levine is nothing more than a guy who got a second chance...like you mother fuckers Joe Black, Keith Scott Zimmerman, and whoever else graces the circle of five...than turn the mute button on NOW!)

"This place is for the frilly little wrestler/actors of the community. How else would guys like Danger and Zimmerman get anywhere? Welcome to Action Wrestling Sharc, home of the pussies. If you really wanted a war, you would take this shit out of this company and take it to the streets. But in the danger of becoming persecuted by the law, I see why you'd want to do this here," Levine said, feeling the heel heat expelling from the crowd...the 'KroW Sucks' chants beginning to form around the arena, "and Number Three; You say you want me to show the fans of Action who is the most extreme man walking the planet today. I don't need to show any of these people JACK SHIT. What the FUCK has this company done for me? And why the FUCK would I want to prove anything to them. No Hertz, this isn't about proving FUCKING SHIT to anyone here...this is about something far more than a mere wrestling match. This is about getting what belonged to me seven years ago. And you hold the cure to the one thing that has been haunting my dreams, killing my sanity, and ruining my life. And I'll be damned if I don't get it while it dangles before my eyes"

"You don't have to prove anything to these fans. You're right. You only have to prove something to one person from now on. And you are looking at the man who you have to prove it to. You love to brag about beating guys like Sylo and J-Con and all the other rejects PIW offered to you. I've beaten Sylo. I could have beaten J-Con in my sleep. There is only one man who would make me smile when I stare down at him in a pool of his own blood. A defeated warrior. A dead bird."

The crowd cheered a bit and clapped, expecting some blood to be spilled at a second's notice here, and hoping so badly that KroW's blood would be the one running like a river.

"We could keep putting blocks upon blocks until we're miles in the sky and one of us knocks the other off to hell below. But I think we're up high enough. I think it's time. I think it's time I show everyone that KroW." Sharc paused. "That YOU, should never have been a world champion. Because you are not a champion. Maybe once you were. Maybe you carried a belt. Now all you carry is scars and hatred.

"As things stand, I have nothing to lose, really. A match? Sure. But not a war. A war is not won in a single battle or a plan. It is won after a long campaign. You want something, KroW? I mean, other than slitting my throat and maybe having some fun burning my corpse or something. Why is it you're standing here and not trying to kill me. Could it be because you know that if you do that, your history will disappear, yet again, except this time, never to return? Just because I know your real name, where your family lived. What possible value could that have. Perhaps enough value to, oh, put that stupid little title you cherish on the line? Maybe so I can rip the only successful trinket you have away from you?"

Levine's left eye began to twitch as he began to show his grinding teeth to Sharc. Levine wasn't in the mood for little mind games any further, and had to restrain himself from beating Sharc into a bloody pulp. He knew he could easily kill Sharc at the snap of a fingers, he could even imagine it in his mind; Sharc looking up fearfully at Levine, as he grabbed a cold knife blade and made it hot with the crimson liquid that would pour from every skin cell in Sharc's body...he even imagine hanging his dead corpse upon a tree...to keep as a reminder of his strength. But he couldn't...because Sharc had the advantage...if Sharc died, Levine's history died with it.

He slowly unsnapped the title from his waist and watched it as it dangled in his left hand...Hertz also found a bit of pleasure in looking at the golden prize that he could never capture. Of course, Action Wrestling fans jeered the holy hell out of the championship that meant the representation of one of the most anti-Action federations of all time...the PIW World Championship. Levine lifted it up slightly, allowing its intoxicating glimmer to shine in his eyes one final time, before he dropped it to the floor beside Sharc and himself.

"You want this?" Levine asked, "Nothing is worth more than the information that I desire....", Hertz smiled brightly as he looked to snatch the title off the ground...but Levine's foot quickly stamped upon its golden plate, "But in order to get it...you'll have to do what I did. Beat the champion for it."

Many fans actually cheered at the prospect of a match between these two men, but mostly at the prospect of Sharc taking the one thing that mattered to KroW the most in this business. For if that title was taken away from the grasp of Levine, his pride would be taken away with it.

"So, unless you look to snatch this title from my grasp right here and now; and risk your life in the process...I suggest you place an offer on the table," Levine said coldly, "But if no offer is presented...and I don't have a clean shot at gaining what I want...I'll just have to TAKE it from you. And the casualties that follow...," Levine dropped the mic a bit to crack a sick and sadistic grin across his face, "Might take away the one thing the one successful trinket that you cherish....

Amy"

Slowly, Sharc ran a hand through his long, blood red hair, as his mind flashed back to two weeks ago. Frantically trying to get Amy out of the Jeep KroW had rigged to blow with a bomb. Sharc's already icy stare dropped a few more degrees and he noticably flinched as Amy's name left KroW's lips.

"Next week. You and me. You put that belt," Sharc paused then looked up at the ceiling, but kept his eyes on KroW, "Up. And I put that wallet, up. Hell, we could toss them in a briefcase and have ourselves....a ladder match. First man to grab the suitcase gets the whole package."

The fans cheered at the ladder announcement, but as Sharc awaited a response from KroW, the cheers slowly died down.

"No rules, just how we like it. No time limit. No snooze fest of wrestling holds and counters. Just two men beating the living hell out of each other until the issue is settled," Sharc said.

Levine quickly went to a straight face, and nodded, as he lifted the championship up to his shoulder and allowed its golden glimmer to shine in Hertz's eyes.

"So in other words...it's a match that I have everything to lose, and everything to gain," Levine asked, as if disapproving. But a quick grin stopped that thought, "And that is just how I like it. If I have to get through you in order to capture the cure to the one thing that has plagued my mind for far too long...than consider it done. I'll be more than happy to place this golden strap on the line, Hertz. And with the proposal done...you can consider your loved one safe," Levine said as Hertz took a deep sigh through the corners of his mouth.

"But I don't trust a mere verbal agreement Hertz. I want to know you are goin to put it all on the line...by placing the signature of a handshake. Throughout your career Sharc, you have never shaken the hand of another man...to seal the deal on a challenge. If you are a real man, you will shake on it, and go through with what you promised. I don't want any bullshit out of this...this will be the end Sharc...this will be the final fight of our battle...possibly our war. I want to make this the fight of our lives...and I don't want to see you wrestling, I want to see you fighting. Bring back the Sharc that I knew from PIW...not the watered down piece of shit I know now," Levine shouted, "I don't want to be wrestling another Jeff Garvin...I want to FIGHT Richard Hertz..."

Levine said as he extended his pale hand to Hertz.

Sharc paused a moment, trying to process what he had just heard KroW say. 'Watered down piece of shit.' That, rather than the rest of the words KroW spoke slapped him across the face for some reason. He stared deep into the eyes of KroW. The windows to the soulless creature. The fans knew a handshake was bad news. They were marks, after all. Sharc looked down at the steady hand of KroW, and slowly Sharc reached his own hand towards Levine's.

If you're gonna go into hell, jump in, don't tip toe your way in, Sharc thought.

And it was sealed. Their hands met, not in a shake, per se, but they grasped each other. There was no cheap attack by KroW. Or Sharc. No pull and clothesline. No kick. No eye poke. No punch. Just two men trying to grind each other's hand into mush. Sick smiles came over both men, but the fans didn't get why at first. They weren't having fun there. They were each trying to turn bone to dust with their deathly grasp.

Beads of sweat began to slowly trickle down the foreheads of the two extremists of Action Wrestling. They weren't shaking hands like a normal social endeavor, but rather looking to break each other's hand with a powerful grip. Both men pushed one another together, so that their chests knocked into each other, as they heavily grunted directly at one another. It looked as if a fight were going to break out...but neither man curled a fist, or threw a punch....just kept in the powerful shake that sealed the Ladder Match for next week...where it was all on the line. It was after a good minute, that Levine and Sharc forcefully released their grasp. Both men stared angrily at one another as they began to shake the circulation back into their victimized, respected, hands. Both men glared at one another from the corners of their eyes...as they began to slowly turn their backs on one another...to exit the ring at opposite ends. It was as if a mutual trust was meant between the two, that their bloody battle wasn't to show until next week...they wanted each other to be 100% for the contest...

But how could a trust bond be formed between such hated men?

Here's the answer...

It couldn't.

It was almost at the same time. Levine had placed one foot onto the apron outside of the ropes, as Sharc had just lifted his leg to exit. Both men seemingly stopped dead in their tracks, and yelled out at the exact same time...

"FUCK IT!"

It was at the exact moment that both men reentered the ring and stormed at one another. It was Sharc with the first blow as he clocked Levine dead center in the forehead, but Levine was quick to retaliate with a closed fist that connected hard into the side of Sharc's jaw. Sharc staggered back a bit, allowing Levine to grab the back of Sharc's head and slam it as hard as he could onto his knee. A trail of blood escaped from Sharc's mouth as he flew backward into the ropes. Levine curled his bare fist as tight as he could and swung with all his force...but Sharc rolled to the side, forcing Levine to almost knock himself over the top rope. Sharc found the opportunity and quickly sent his knee into the ribs of Levine...doubling the PIW champion over. This allowed Sharc to back a few inches and lift his knee upright as hard as he could into the face of Levine...knocking Levine to one knee.

And never, in the history of Sharc's career, did the fans cheer so loudly.

Sharc than found the time he needed to see the PIW Championship lay prone on the mat. He reached over and lifted up the prized possession of his nemesis, and began to secure it in his grasp. But before he could use it as an offensive weapon, he was thrown to the mat with an EXTREME amount of force that made Rhyno's gore look like shit. It was possibly the heaviest spear ever given to a wrestler in the history of wrestling, as Levine hurled himself into Sharc and began to pummel the crimson haired devil with all his might...but Sharc was quick to turn it over and began to throw some good punches of his own...but Levine, using his power advantage, grabbed Sharc by his throat and hurled him over his body. As Sharc looked to get up and charge forward...Levine extended his boot and CLAPPED the damn thing right into the side of Sharc's head...

It had to be stopped...or the show would never go on...

Thus, the officials came charging out like a Calvary.

Between 12 and 15 officials, and up-and-comers dressed up like security charged into the war zone of Sharc and Levine. Without a lot of delay, they swarmed in Levine's direction. Levine roared out a loud "WHAT THE FUCK?" as he found himself surrounded by the men trying to tie up his arms and legs, but receiving elbows and knees and eye gouges for their troubles. Sharc got up, looked at the scene, and charged in, leap frogging over a pair of security guards and dropkicking Levine in the jaw.

Sharc had Levine down and landed several punches to Levine's skull, but Levine reached up with his legs and hooked Sharc's arms, pulling him down for a released sunset flip he turned to his advanatage to crawl on top of Sharc and wrap his hands around his foe's throat. But 15 lesser men still combined to be a greater force than Levine's grip on Sharc's throat. They pulled him off and wrestled him to the mat. Sharc scrambled to his feet and stepped forward but was met by two of the officials who pointed up at the ramp and gave him a wink.

Sharc looked around at the crowd with a bit of a smile on his face. He looked around the guards to see Levine freeing both of his legs and one arm. He was going to be past those guys in no time, and Sharc knew it. Sharc grabbed the smaller official, picked him up, and Gorilla press slammed him toward Levine.

Connected.

Once again, the less energetic group grasped and reached for Levine, who still had every ounce of energy he'd started with. These odds were nothing. He wanted at Sharc. That smiling piece of shit stared at him. Every time he got a limb loose, it was going to be used on Sharc.

But it was harder this time, because Sharc charged in headbutted Levine in the face. Levine collapsed to his knees and Sharc nodded to one of the guards before stepping out of the ring and raising his arms high in the air. He got a pretty nice pop, though many of the fans probably had hoped for a bit more.

Sharc continued up the ramp, grinning sadistically more with every step he took that escaped him from danger. He heard the shouts of Levine, warning Sharc that no one would hold him back next week; but at this time, Sharc was safe from harms way. As Sharc turned around, he suddenly had to dodge a FLYING official that just missed connecting with Sharc's skull. Sharc's eyes went wide with shock, as he looked into the ring...and at the mayhem that was being caused.

Levine was actually fighting off every official in the ring.

"Action mother fuckers!" he shouted out, as he began to send wild punches at each and every one of them. One man attempt to grab Levine by the waist, but Levine reversed the official by locking him in a front face lock and jamming his skull into the mat with a heavy DDT, that caused the officials neck to compress upon impact and leave him on the mat as a vegetable. Levine looked to get up, but a guard quickly wrapped Levine in a sleeper hold position...but Levine, using an extreme amount of adrenaline, lifted his his feet and flung the guard over his head and to the mat. Suddenly two others came charging forward, but Levine quickly charged back at them and leveled both men with a double clothesline. It was at this moment that Levine looked to exit the ring, but was suddenly thrown to the mat by three other officials that were 100% healthy. As Levine felt more and more body weight being pressed upon him...he found his anger rising, and his frustration becoming intolerable. It was at that moment that his sanity escaped him...and he saw nothing but red.

Red Vision.

"AAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"

The war cry of Levine echoed in the arena as he spread out his arms, knocking the five officials from his body. One attempted to charge forward, but Levine quickly wrapped the mat with a go-behind and sent the official crashing to the mat with a devastating release German Suplex. Another official attempted to grab Levine on his way back to his feet, but Levine quickly elbowed the mat directly in the face and clocked him with a heavy haymaker that knocked the mat on his face. The third of the healthy officials charged forward as well, looking to knock Levine down with a clothesline, but Levine ducked the shot and grabbed the official by his waist...SLAMMING him with an EXTREME amount of power in the form of a spinebuster! This left two officials left, as they combined their forces and began to wrestle Levine to the mat...but Levine's mixture of adrenaline and anger rose to such a great level that he had grabbed both men by their necks and lifted them both off the mat...

WHAM! x2

A double chokeslam that landed both men on the back of their necks. A physical fatiqued Levine quickly fell to his knees, leaning his upper body against the second rope. He watched as Sharc looked on in complete shock, as Levine's eyes were clearly bright red with blood that boiled within his skin. If blood could boil any further, Levine would be expelling red steam. Sharc's eyes didn't leave Levine as he backed up the entrance ramp, as Levine grunted like a wild maniac.

"This fucking place can hold me back for now, Hertz. But in seven days...nothing will hold me back. Kiss Amy goodbye...for the next time she sees you....you won't be able to see her back!"

NEXT CHAPTER: It Ends Tonight >>

©2003 John Leary