Prepping the Final Rest

The day our father died was the best day of our life. Horrible to think, we suppose, but we have never been known to follow the flow of the norm. If you had told us that we would open a door that we would never want to close that day, we would have thought you full of shit.

The Bull residence, a home that has seen much better times within its walls. Not a poor house, but one that is in need of some basic repairs: the gutters are falling off in a few spots, there is some obvious rood repair needed and the original paint job has a lot of peeling areas. Aside from that, it is a cozy enough home. It is what takes place within its walls and on this property that makes it a true house of horrors.

The man that walks into the too small entry is William Bull, patriarch of the family. In truth, he is more like a warden and executioner. Nothing is done is this household without his say so. And of course, he is the king of his castle and he wants his needs met to as soon as he walks in the door. And when they are not, he makes sure that no one is left in his wake.

"Where the fuck is my dinner!"

Mary Bull, three sheets to the wind drunk and slouched in a chair, looks at him with glassy eyes and a half grin.

"Still in the freezer I would imagine Bill. I haven't had the time to get to it."

Nostrils flaring and eyes widening, William takes three steps across the room and slaps Mary in the face. A sound, somewhere between a whimper and a scream, comes out of her mouth. Though it is stifled by her fear as she looks up with wide eyes at the raging William.

"If you ever talk to me like that again, I will kill you bitch! Now, get off your drunk ass and go make me some food!"

At that moment, a large figure walks in, a teenage Corey Bull. His height isn't too far off from what it is today and his muscle mass isn't far behind either. He stands between his father and mother, his eyes simmering as he stares at his dad.

"Well look at here, the big fucking tard has finally decided to grow a set. Well good for you boy, but this is probably not the time to get froggy. Now, get out of the fucking way before your ol man puts you over his knee and kicks your ass."

Bull shakes his head slowly no.

"Not. This. Time."

"Oh hooo oh ho. Aren't you just a regular fucking comedian. Now...do as I say or I'll knock you down a fucking peg or two!"

William goes to move past Corey, but instead of moving, he grabs his fathers arms and the old man looks surprised at the strength of the grasp. He tries to get away from Corey, but Corey's face has become something sinister. Or finally fed up. Either way, he picks up his father and slams him through the glass table. Blood starts to spray out. Bull stops, seemingly in a trance at the blood.

It wasn't the first time we had seen blood. Not even close. Nor was it the first time we drew someone else's blood. But watching the blood flow from my fathers neck, a shard of glass still stuck in it, we couldn't help but be.....amused?....excited?.....justified, that's the word. He did nothing but abuse our mother, which drover her to the bottle in the first place. And lets face facts, he can't even keep his dick in his pants. We do have a half brother and half sister from two different mothers. No...this wasn't murder. This was justice. More then our mother would ever see in her lifetime.

Police cars surround that house now. Their blue and red lights reflecting off of the off yellow paint. Yellow tape surrounds the place, as does curious neighbors. And who wouldn't be curious. William Bull, a man that was both respected and hated, was gone. Robbery gone bad they say. The son showed up just as the police did, running across the field. But the rumors....well they can never be stopped. Some say he was just covering his tracks, others say he was covering his mothers. Who really knows, right. Either way, you can bet no tears were shed on Eskil Street that night.





**The camera comes on to the lazy slide of the sun going down. There is still a crispness to the air, trees are still barren of leaves, but fresh life can be seen in the form of buds on the branches. Birds that would not normally be this far north flutter to and fro in the branches. And the sound of metal hitting dirt is heard. Over and over. The camera pans down from the beauty of nature to the dark contrast of reality. Standing in a hole that just reaches his knees is Corey Bull. Beside him is carved out two more holes, though these ones seem to be much deeper then the one he resides in. Dirt flies over his shoulder to the pile that sits at the base of the hole. In front of each sits a hung of stone, though each seems to be wrong. Bull speaks, though he never looks up, carefully carving our more of the ground**

"Last Redemption, fate handed the Young Cubs a gift. For had it not been for Gavin Grimes, they would not have won. But, no matter. In the jist of things, it is a minor burn to deal with. For we did not come here to worry about every Tom, Dick, and Harry. No...our purpose is much more grand. Dethroning false kings, eliminating wannabe monsters....and now....facing our greatest challenge."

**Bull holds up a finger**

"But....since our greatest challenge is no longer playing keyboard cowboy and sucking on a tit, we have to be properly prepared for him. So he will have to wait. Gavin Grimes is just going to have to sit there and deal with being....not that relevant to us. But, for you at least Gavin, we dug a deep hole. Happy Birthday."

**Bull moves to the first hole, barely needing to rise out of the one he is standing in, and grasps the first marble stone and pulls it up. On it, it simple states "Gavin Grimes, Hero to no one" Bull walks over to the second hole, about half as deep as the first one, and stares at it**

"And you, false King of the Heavyweights. You believe your realm is in your control...but that is under the assumption that you had any control over it. But the monsters are in the lands. Even Grimes, a man who has a finisher called the Crowning, never once proclaimed himself a king. And here he is too now. You have no control here Shields. Your reality is a delusion. You do not seem to understand that kings no longer rule over these lands. No....for now...here...there...be...MONSTERS! And the damage is going to come Shields. You continue to hide behind your false beliefs and delusional episodes. It will be only a matter of time before they can not stop us. And then we will feast on your bones and toss your battered corpse to the masses and watch them squeal in glee!"

**Bull lifts the second stone and it states "Matthew Shields, King of Nothing". Bull walks to the third hole, the shallow grave.**

"And now, on to one of the reasons we came here. Coda, the false monster. We understand that you have studied our career, have witnessed it over and over again. And here you are, attempting to be what we are. And failing. Some simple, brutal violence during a match does not make a monster. Swinging chairs around doesn't make you a monster. And having the people around this place call you a monster....doesn't make it so."

**Bull sweeps the hair out of his cold, dark eyes**

"But we did not come here to educate you on being a monster. In fact, it is the exact opposite. We have come here...to put...you...DOWN!"

**Bulls eyes grow fierce, but remain cold and callus**

"We are going to bust you open and watch you die. We will spread your blood across the arena like the sprinklers in hells gardens. We are going to enjoy every last minute of this. You...however...are not. For try as you might, think as you may think, this isn't going to be a battle of the ages for you. It will be a massacre with our goal simply being to beat you into a pile of mush in the middle of the ring."

**Bulls voice gets low and menacing**

"Do you believe you are a monster Coda? Do you feel the things that we feel...the passions that lie deep inside, their dark and forbidden nature's lullabies to our ears. We don't think so. We think your just a mean girl who thinks brute force is the answer to everything. We were that once, just a bully. But we evolved, matured, and understand the need for technique and skills. THAT...Coda....is what makes us a more brutal and efficient monster. You are just a pretender who is going to be put out to pasture."

"And while it might sound as if we are underestimating you...we are not. We studied your matches. We saw the things you have done. And in the end, it did nothing but disgust us that people could think of you in the same terms as us. It is the reason that you deserve a shallow grave, one that the scavengers can easily dig up. Though you do not belong in the same class as these two....we need to save room for the rest of the bodies. Because there will be more. See you soon Coda....and when we do, be prepared to be NAILED....BY.....OUR HATE."

**Bull lifts the tombstone up and it reads "Coda, Monstrously Destroyed" and the camera fades out on that granite slab**