Chapter Two: Clarification. #015

What do you know?

I was right.

Just like I always am.

We all knew I would be from the start though, everyone is using this opportunity to cut each other down as much as they can… and you know what? I can’t say I blame them.

What better time to do so than the present, right?

Let’s start with one thing that stood out to me. The mention of my fiancée by Bianca.

I thought it was a good line, I laughed about it because I know she isn’t like that. JENNA on the other hand was not as impressed with it… because she was one of the only people on this planet that held out hope for me coming back. The last thing she was ever going to do was fuck around on me.

My fiancée was one of the few people that thought I was coming back. She held out hope… SHE is the reason that I think people who thought I was… faking what I went through… are slow in the head. She was tortured by… it. She spent six months on the receiving end of the worst shit I could… I could ever think of. If she didn’t want anything to do with me anymore when I came back, then I wouldn’t have blamed her… but she did. She waited… because she loves me. Has since we met each other, or so she tells me.

Bianca did give me one thing nobody else has so far in this match.

Respect.

I mean… in her own way.

She recognised my past, why I am what I say I am. A Goddamn Deathmatch Legend. People may not like to hear it, but it’s the fucking truth. It’s what separates me from the rest of the pack and what puts me head and shoulders above everyone in this match.

You can run down the entire list of people in this match and once you get to me… you’ll understand why this match means as much to me… and why I NEED to win this… compared to anyone else here.

Everyone else has like to say exactly what I thought they would. That I was faking everything with… it.

Everything… really?

So… the half a dozen witnesses… people like my former brother in law. Who got paralyzed by… it… all while I had to watch with my own eyes like a prisoner in my own mind… yeah, try explaining to them that I was faking it all.

Try explaining it to my ex wife, who hates my guts now because of all of this… and now I can’t see my kids. Do you understand that? Which like… fuck me what a way to get out of seeing my children if I was faking everything, huh? Yeah… let’s fake a demonic possession and then break their uncle’s neck while their mother watches. A great way to get out of ever seeing my fucking children again.

People like Thomas… Tomi Venus. Fuck you. I will PERSONALLY be making sure you don’t see the final moments of this match… because I will hunt you down like the dog you are and SHOW you that words… and your dumbass delusions have consequences… you’re going to pay the steep price for even trying to spread the narrative of me being anything less than one hundred percent honest… because that’s all I have ever been!

Whether those fans loved me or hated me, I was always keeping it one hundred percent honest every time I spoke!

Here’s another truth for you, Thomas.

You’re a pathetic cunt.

A sorry excuse of a man.

A fucking weaselly… sneaky… conniving little cunt that I will have no qualms in taking out. There is not a big list of people in this lifetime that have the badge of honor that is Kasey Haste hating you, but you?

I hate you. I hate the air that you breathe. I hate the way that you’re walking around here like your shit doesn’t stink and you’re not just some giant fucking bullshit artist who masquerades around as a wrestler, when in actuality you couldn’t fight your way out of a wet paper bag.

In this match. When I get my hands on you… not if… when I get my fucking hands on you… I will put a fucking end to you. I will watch all life drain from your eyes and I will do it with a fucking smile on my face… you pathetic fuck.

Let’s talk about this “Iron Titan”.

Because not once have I said, right… that I’m not expecting shit to be easy now that I’m in the drivers seat here. You want to sit there and claim that I was the one who caused all of that? Are we sure your brain isn’t made out of iron or something there lad?

Because, and stay with me here.

I. Could. Not. Control. My. Actions. While. They. Were. In. Charge.

You can sit there and preach all you want how I’m gonna try and ‘hide from my past’ when in actuality, all I have done as a man is sit here and face the brunt of EVERYTHING I have done. I have owned up to EVERYTHING I did, good and bad. I don’t run from anyone, or anything. I did not just move on as if nothing happened, are you fucking mental?

I am still facing what happened. I’m going to therapy because of what I went through. I am not trying to move on as if nothing happened. Because everything that I never wanted to happen to me happened while I was… under their influence.

I had to watch with my own eyes as my former brother in law’s career ended.

I had to watch as he screamed on the mat about how he couldn’t feel his fucking legs.

I had to watch as my ex wife was bawling her eyes out while she was very heavily pregnant with our second child.

I had to watch as my then girlfriend was holding back tears as she tried to get me to come through and talk to her.

And I couldn’t do a goddamn thing about it.

Do you know what that’s done to me? Do you want to see how many times I’m going to therapy a week? Do you want to see the CCTV footage of me entering and then leaving my house when I had the mask ripped off, and I could barely walk on my own… I was shaking… twitchy… all while I had my now fiancée trying to keep me from breaking down?

Is that what you need to see so that I can show you that I am not just acting as if nothing happened and moving on with my life?

I am trying to live with myself for ever letting anything like that happen.

It has ruined my life.

Shortened my career.

Ruined my family's life.

Ruined the lives of countless people around me. I still haven’t spoken to my cousin since I came back, and she fucking idolized me when we were growing up!

And you want to fucking sit there… and say that I just want to ‘move on… like nothing ever happened.”

If you REALLY think that after all of that… that I still just want to act as if nothing ever happened… and that I’m not living my worst nightmare?

Go. Fuck. Your. Self.

Now Mercadier? Let’s not try this whole ‘holier than thou’ schtick anymore, okay? The whole world sees you for what you truly are. You’re no better than what had control over me for the better half of a year. You’re no better than them. You want to spout your bullshit and how you’re so far ahead of me that I won’t be able to catch up ever again, when all it does is expose you for who you truly are. A pathetic man, hiding behind your religion and acting as if it makes you superior to all of us, when you’re no better than the worst of the worst that society as a whole has to offer.

When we come across each other in this match, I will show you that while you may think you’re ahead of me, and that you may think of yourself as superior to all of us in this match, you’re going to face the harshest of realities that you can’t lace my fucking boots on my worst day. I was all about respect before, but fuck all of that. Everyone who’s spoke on me and spoke on my name has made this shit personal so respect ain’t a word I know when thinking about ANYONE in this match.

Fuck all of you.

Vengeful vendetta? I had no fucking say in what those assholes controlling me wanted to do. I have no idea why they wanted to take out Matt Miles. Once again. I. Was. Not. In. Control.

You want to call me the poster child for failure and disappointment? Cool. I’ll take that poster and use it to mop your fucking blood of the canvas once I let you go have a face to face with your ‘god’.

You calling me that will be your shortcoming. You have already ruled me out before this match even began! Do you understand how fucking stupid that is of you?

Of course you don’t.

You don’t even see it as a loss for you. You just see me as a stepping stone.

You said it yourself!

Poster child for failure and disappointment.

You’re going to find out, really fucking quickly, how fucking braindead of you it was to rule me out before the bell has even rung. Because counting me out like that is something I have gotten used to in my career. People have been doubting me from the second I stepped foot inside of a ring.

“Oh, he’s only a kid. He’ll never last a day.”

“Look at the size of him. He’ll never beat the bigger guys in this industry.”

“He’s a deathmatch guy? Oh no major company will ever want to sign him.”

“He had two guys ringside when he won his first title? He’ll never amount to anything.”

“He won two more titles at the same time? Oh it was a fluke. He’ll never carry them for a good length of time.”

“He just won his first world title? Oh well it’s in a place we don’t like. So it doesn’t count.”

Excuse… after excuse… after excuse.

People have always looked down on me. People have always thought less of me.

And you know what I’ve done in return?

I’ve proved everyone wrong. I have jumped over every hurdle that people placed in front of me and I exceeded expectations people had of me by a country mile. I have proven time after time after time that I am worth my weight in gold, and still… people want to doubt me.

Let them.

Because it makes every victory I get against them taste… so much fucking sweeter.

I cannot WAIT for this match… I cannot WAIT to show everyone that I am as good as I’ve always said I am.

Watching as nine other people get eliminated from this match… and watching as I punch my ticket to Standing Room Only.

They’ll be the first people I see in the back, too… lining up after I do finish my story in PCW and win the World Heavyweight Championship… congratulating me, telling me they knew I could do it all along… how proud of me they are.

You're all a bunch of fake cunts.

When I finish what I signed up here to do, when I do finally capture the one thing that has eluded me for so long. I don’t want to hear a fucking word from any of you… other than the obvious.

“I’m sorry, Kasey. You were right.”

Just like I always am.