Define: Abomination | [Unstoppable #6 RP 1]

MSW Backstage - Peyton's...designated area

The scene opened up to Peyton standing in his same usual spot, sporting a new flashier jacket. A light shined upon his face, obviously from his phone.

Peyton: “Let us define the word ‘abomination”, shall we?”

Peyton rose his phone to visible level, poked at it for a moment, and made a noise of confirmation.

Peyton: “Webster’s defines ‘abomination’ as such. An abomination is something that causes disgust or hatred. Hm, seems awfully relevant to what is going on in my life right now. Now, shall I define the three individuals who are, is going to be, or trying to be in my path to the MSW World Championship?”

Next to the same tournament bracket that he has been using since the beginning of the tournament are three pictures. Peyton prodded the first one, showing a picture of Bryce Manning. It was recent. In fact, it was a picture from his victory over Lance Peterson.

Peyton: “If I am to win the MSW World Championship, I must get past the ever devious and volatile Bryce Manning. I have no words to him yet. I can only say that he will pay for the troubles he caused our management. To invoke pain and suffering upon those who only want you to succeed…that is vile. Yet I have to thank him. He is one of the major reasons why I am fighting so hard. Every time I knocked one of my opponents out, I visualized striking Manning down. I take no solace in having to do so, but retribution is necessary for him. It is necessary for him to recuperate his tormented soul.”

He took the picture down and held it up. In his other hand was not the phone, but a lighter. He set it ablaze and let it hit the ground. He smothered the flame with his foot, giving it a solemn stare.

Peyton: “But I cannot proclaim that it is I that will defeat him. Upon his horizon is a light; there is a man who is fighting the good fight like I. His name is Luke Jackson. He can defeat Manning. He can also defeat the menacing Matt Ward. I can only put my fate in him. We’ll see if he has what it takes to defeat Manning and we will see if he has the potential to defeat me.”

Next on the list was a picture of…blackness. Peyton gazed upon the picture and shook his head disappointingly. A chuckle escaped him.

Peyton: “Neforian?”

He took a moment to think to himself.

Peyton: “Why do you lurk in the shadows, sending children to do your work? Last week, I did not mention you. The reasoning being that I had no idea what to make of you. You apparently had your eyes set on me. You are attempting to disrupt my goals and focus. I cannot have that. I shall not let a man who cannot show himself interrupt my conquest for gold and virtue. I can already tell that you will continue this until I put you down! Neforian, if it is your wish to face me in battle, you must show yourself to me first. I will not face the shadows. I will not play a coward’s game. I have a federation to save. I do not need you, any man, and any child to interfere. For now, I have a new challenger to my plight!”

Peyton ripped off the picture of “Neforian” and pointed to the picture of Bryan York. Peyton’s eyebrows lowered anger visible on his usually gentle visage.

Peyton: “Two weeks ago, I heard the uproars of the displeased masses. I went to check on why they were so bitter. I saw you on the television, pinning Mr Kamara. You defeated and belittled a fellow competitor. The way you defeated him was not just, however. What did you do, York? You did not outsmart him and get a victory. You did not overpower him. No, you struck him down with brass knuckles and stole a victory. “

He took out a pair of brass knuckles, as a matter of fact. He examined them with careful precision.

Peyton: “Right in the temple did your weapon go.”

He placed the knuckles on his right temple.

Peyton: “You’re a thief. But that is not where this all ends. The next week, you nearly broke a man’s shoulder as Demetrius Burrell pummelled you into near submission. He had you beat in every way. And you had to throw the man into the steel post with excessive brutality to win.”

He took out that infamous Sharpie and smiled.

Peyton: “You’re no villain. You're nothing more than a cur. You remind me of Tyler Xero, but the difference between you and him is that you cannot be corrected. Xero was that of a child. One that could still be saved if he was defeated justly. You, on the other hand, are not smart enough to have the sense to change your ways. Our match is going to be different from the one that I had with Xero. As in, I am going to get revenge, for both Burrell and Kamara. I am going to make you hurt, York. As I stated earlier, I take no solace in doing so. But in justice, pain is the only acceptable punishment and rehabilitation for one like you.”

He crossed out York’s face with the marker.

Peyton: “As one religious man with an outstanding jehri curl stated: ‘The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike
down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers.”

Peyton pulled back the arm with the marker within it.

Peyton: “And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you!”

He struck the picture so hard with the marker that he pierced through it. The picture fell to the ground, along with the marker.

Peyton began to walk off, revealing behind him that he had marked out Bryan York’s name already on the tournament bracket. Peyton stopped, bringing the camera’s focus on the back of his jacket. In golden writing, on the back of his jacket bore the words “Hero to All”.