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Guest Korgath

PROMO - End of the Line

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Guest Korgath

He lays the iron staff against the lockers and, for the first time tonight, removes the demon mask from his face, placing it on the bench. He wipes the sweat from his face with his hand, feeling the ache in his legs, a reminder of his most recent loss.




The chants from the arena still rings in his ear.


“Ladies and Gentlemen…your winner…and STILL SJL EUROPEAN CHAMPION….




Funyon's voice booms in his head.


The sounds of "It's a small world" and "When you wish upon a star" remain merciless reminders of his loss. Of his inability to win the European Title. Of his failure.


The memories trickle slowly back. The initial bad start to his career in the SJL. The multitude of losses. The embarrasment of seeing talents who had debut with him go on to bigger and greater things. On the other hand, he remembered the friends he made, friends who helped him with his first victory. They gave him the ball and he ran with it. But that was over just as quickly as it began and he was alone, once again.


But the sweet taste of victory had him coming back for more, and he was tearing up the midcard for a while. Some took their losses well and fought back. Others lost and never stepped foot into an SJL ring again. How many careers had he ended in the SJL? How many more would he be able to destroy?


Dominic Korgath slams shut the door of his locker and looks around the room. That locker belonged to Danny Conklin. This one was Chris Trepanier's. And there, across the room, Scott Solomon's. These were men who brought the best out of him, but they weren't around any longer. His eyes drift to a particular corner, to a list of names that include John Duran and the English Dragon. Above the list, in bright red lettering: "SWF-bound"


That list would never include his name.


At least, not for now.


He gets out a notepad and a pencil and starts to scribble for a few moments. Then, putting the writing instruments down, he clears out his locker of what little was inside into his duffel bag. Then, taking one last look at the room, he leaves, shutting the door behind him.


The note drops to the ground, unnoticed till the cleaners sweep the premises.


The note is small and the big man's handwriting is barely legible.


All that can really be deciphered reads:




"You sit alone in lightless chambers, all the love you had is gone

No one there to catch your fall, you never felt so alone

Blackened thoughts in lonely ruins, lifeless eyes an empty gaze

Death is but a promise now, life is just an empty phrase!"

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That's a really touching promo, man. For all your hard times, you really have a storied guy there. Have a fun time on the outside and I hope to see you back soon, man.

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Guest ToddRoyal

Geez. It's times like these when I realize just how talented a writer Korgath is. He's managed to create a really intriguing and often deep story around a constantly changing stable- often doing the work all by himself.


I really enjoy writing against Korgath, and as a partner for that one show, so I hope I get the chance to do one or both again sometime soon. Nice job man, and come back kickin' BUTT.

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