Post by Shane Hunt on Mar 23, 2013 17:39:36 GMT -6
The arrangement of equipment which spread out across the highly polished floors would not have looked out of place at the training headquarters of a major sports team, or indeed an upmarket gym which charged a fortune for membership. There was not a muscle on the human body for which there was not a machine present, and every single one was the latest, greatest, most technologically advanced, and most efficient model on the market. If the body is indeed a temple, then this place was a cathedral to the religion, and a mass cult to it thrown into one.
Unlike most of the expensive gyms in which such equipment was placed, here it got used. This was not a room for posers and posturing, for part time gym-goers. This was a serious gym in which you worked your body to breaking point, and in which you achieved results beyond human endurance. This gym had known pain, agony, and defeat. It had broken some, but it had made others legends.
Also, those gyms liked to say they were exclusive, but they were nothing compared to this place. You could count the list of people that used this gym on your fingers. Each was personally invited by the owner, and when the invite was extended, you had better be ready to keep up with him, a feat which was no mean task.
Because this gym, is the gym also known as the Hunt Dungeon. Its owner is me, Shane Hunt.
I've been in the gym about an hour. My torso is bare, and my huge muscles are glistening with sweat. Currently on the running machine, my eyes were closed and my breaths were controlled, in through the nose, out through the mouth in a steady rhythm. My massive legs pounded the track, the muscles tensing and relaxing in each stride. I'd run miles already, could have run more, but instead I slowed my pace to a jog, then a walk, and ultimately I stopped.
Stepping off of and away from the running machine, I walk over to the side of the room, where my towel lays. I bend down and pick it up. I wipe the sweat from my brow, and for the first time I focus on the camera.
" It feels great, working up a sweat from a hard workout. I have every reason to work out as well. For the past four months, I've worked my arse off to get back into shape, and it's all because I'm coming back to NCW. I've been out of the game for far too long. In fact, it's been a year and a half since I last set foot in an NCW ring, and I've missed it every single day. When I injured my knee again, I went to a really dark place. Even after my knee operation and when I'd recovered fully, I remained in that dark place. I was drinking every day, and most days I woke up with the sole intention of getting drunk. Times were tough, and it took my friends and family banding together to help me change my ways. I did it though, and here I am in the best physical and mental condition I've been in a long time. "
I smile, truly grateful that my friends and family have been there for me when I need them. I once again wipe my brow, then continue speaking.
" So, this weekend I have my return match. It's the opening match of Collision, and it feels more like I'm debuting with the fed all over again. In my mind, all I achieved when I was first in NCW means nothing, as it all happened so long ago. I'm starting afresh, and in my first match I've been put up against the usual no-hoper. "
I snicker, knowing full well that my opponent is far from a no-hoper.
" A.C. Douglas, you weren't around when I was last in NCW so I don't really know much about you. What I do know though, is that you're teaming with Todd Williams, and you've done rather well since you joined NCW. Is it one loss in eight matches? I must say, that's pretty impressive. You've beat such wrestlers as current Tag Team champion Simon Daye, and former World champion Curtis Kanyon. They're massive wins against NCW legends, and I congratulate you on your great form. That's enough massaging your ego though. You're pretty good at doing that for yourself. "
Smirking at the camera, I now move on from Douglas' past matches, and concentrate on our upcoming match.
" Your opponents so far, including Simon Daye and Curtis Kanyon, they're nothing compared to me. The matches you've struggled to win will seem like a walk in the park, when you get in that ring against me and I'm throwing you around like a rag doll. I know I've been out of the game for a very long time, and I know I'll have a lot of rust to shake off, but I have the power and the experience to see you off with relative ease. "
I point at a machine I'd been on before the running machine. It's a bench, set up with a very large amount of weight on it.
" You see that machine over there. The weight set up on it is far more than you weigh, and I can lift that easily. You, I could Wolf Bomb without even breaking a sweat. Kid, you have no idea what you're in store for when you climb into the ring against me. The moment the bell rings to start the match, I become a lethal machine of pain infliction. Every second of our match will involve you being man-handled and brutalised by me. When I feel you've had enough of a beating I'll hoist you up onto my shoulders, and slam you down on the mat again with a Wolf Bomb that'll rattle, and possibly break every bone in your body. Then it'll be a simple case of pinning you for the three count, and celebrating a well overdue return match victory. "
I would have called it a day at that, but seeing as A.C. Douglas is a special kind of dick head, I decide to go on.
" You see Douglas, you seem to think of yourself as some unstoppable force in NCW. You've beaten some big names in NCW through luck and maybe a bit of skill, and your ego has shot right through the roof. You know what I think, Douglas? I definitely don't think you're an unstoppable force. Hell, I don't even consider you a force to be reckoned with. I think of you as a punk arse bitch, who needs to be put in check. "
I prod at my chest with my index finger, as if pointing at myself.
" Me, I'm the monster who's going to destroy your ego and show you that no mere man is unstoppable. Douglas, in my years in this business I've seen far too many young wrestlers just like yourself. They come down to the ring and pick up some fluke victories, and they run their mouths off about how great they are and how they're destined for greatness. Hell, some of them even achieve what they claim they're destined for. The majority of them fail though, especially when they run into the six foot six stumbling block named Shane Hunt. I will not allow wrestlers like you to use me as a stepping stone to greatness. You will not get past me, as I simply won't let you. I'll beat you mercilessly, and make an example of you. You will be left battered and bruised, never the same person you once were. You will become Just... Another... Victim! "
With those words, I snarl at the camera as the scene fades to black.
Unlike most of the expensive gyms in which such equipment was placed, here it got used. This was not a room for posers and posturing, for part time gym-goers. This was a serious gym in which you worked your body to breaking point, and in which you achieved results beyond human endurance. This gym had known pain, agony, and defeat. It had broken some, but it had made others legends.
Also, those gyms liked to say they were exclusive, but they were nothing compared to this place. You could count the list of people that used this gym on your fingers. Each was personally invited by the owner, and when the invite was extended, you had better be ready to keep up with him, a feat which was no mean task.
Because this gym, is the gym also known as the Hunt Dungeon. Its owner is me, Shane Hunt.
I've been in the gym about an hour. My torso is bare, and my huge muscles are glistening with sweat. Currently on the running machine, my eyes were closed and my breaths were controlled, in through the nose, out through the mouth in a steady rhythm. My massive legs pounded the track, the muscles tensing and relaxing in each stride. I'd run miles already, could have run more, but instead I slowed my pace to a jog, then a walk, and ultimately I stopped.
Stepping off of and away from the running machine, I walk over to the side of the room, where my towel lays. I bend down and pick it up. I wipe the sweat from my brow, and for the first time I focus on the camera.
" It feels great, working up a sweat from a hard workout. I have every reason to work out as well. For the past four months, I've worked my arse off to get back into shape, and it's all because I'm coming back to NCW. I've been out of the game for far too long. In fact, it's been a year and a half since I last set foot in an NCW ring, and I've missed it every single day. When I injured my knee again, I went to a really dark place. Even after my knee operation and when I'd recovered fully, I remained in that dark place. I was drinking every day, and most days I woke up with the sole intention of getting drunk. Times were tough, and it took my friends and family banding together to help me change my ways. I did it though, and here I am in the best physical and mental condition I've been in a long time. "
I smile, truly grateful that my friends and family have been there for me when I need them. I once again wipe my brow, then continue speaking.
" So, this weekend I have my return match. It's the opening match of Collision, and it feels more like I'm debuting with the fed all over again. In my mind, all I achieved when I was first in NCW means nothing, as it all happened so long ago. I'm starting afresh, and in my first match I've been put up against the usual no-hoper. "
I snicker, knowing full well that my opponent is far from a no-hoper.
" A.C. Douglas, you weren't around when I was last in NCW so I don't really know much about you. What I do know though, is that you're teaming with Todd Williams, and you've done rather well since you joined NCW. Is it one loss in eight matches? I must say, that's pretty impressive. You've beat such wrestlers as current Tag Team champion Simon Daye, and former World champion Curtis Kanyon. They're massive wins against NCW legends, and I congratulate you on your great form. That's enough massaging your ego though. You're pretty good at doing that for yourself. "
Smirking at the camera, I now move on from Douglas' past matches, and concentrate on our upcoming match.
" Your opponents so far, including Simon Daye and Curtis Kanyon, they're nothing compared to me. The matches you've struggled to win will seem like a walk in the park, when you get in that ring against me and I'm throwing you around like a rag doll. I know I've been out of the game for a very long time, and I know I'll have a lot of rust to shake off, but I have the power and the experience to see you off with relative ease. "
I point at a machine I'd been on before the running machine. It's a bench, set up with a very large amount of weight on it.
" You see that machine over there. The weight set up on it is far more than you weigh, and I can lift that easily. You, I could Wolf Bomb without even breaking a sweat. Kid, you have no idea what you're in store for when you climb into the ring against me. The moment the bell rings to start the match, I become a lethal machine of pain infliction. Every second of our match will involve you being man-handled and brutalised by me. When I feel you've had enough of a beating I'll hoist you up onto my shoulders, and slam you down on the mat again with a Wolf Bomb that'll rattle, and possibly break every bone in your body. Then it'll be a simple case of pinning you for the three count, and celebrating a well overdue return match victory. "
I would have called it a day at that, but seeing as A.C. Douglas is a special kind of dick head, I decide to go on.
" You see Douglas, you seem to think of yourself as some unstoppable force in NCW. You've beaten some big names in NCW through luck and maybe a bit of skill, and your ego has shot right through the roof. You know what I think, Douglas? I definitely don't think you're an unstoppable force. Hell, I don't even consider you a force to be reckoned with. I think of you as a punk arse bitch, who needs to be put in check. "
I prod at my chest with my index finger, as if pointing at myself.
" Me, I'm the monster who's going to destroy your ego and show you that no mere man is unstoppable. Douglas, in my years in this business I've seen far too many young wrestlers just like yourself. They come down to the ring and pick up some fluke victories, and they run their mouths off about how great they are and how they're destined for greatness. Hell, some of them even achieve what they claim they're destined for. The majority of them fail though, especially when they run into the six foot six stumbling block named Shane Hunt. I will not allow wrestlers like you to use me as a stepping stone to greatness. You will not get past me, as I simply won't let you. I'll beat you mercilessly, and make an example of you. You will be left battered and bruised, never the same person you once were. You will become Just... Another... Victim! "
With those words, I snarl at the camera as the scene fades to black.