Grant was a 20-year-old young man, who embodied the archetype of the all-American jock. With his athletic build, charming smile, and charismatic personality, Grant effortlessly captured the attention of those around him. He radiated confidence and carried himself with the ease of someone who has excelled in both sports and social circles.
Grant’s athletic prowess was most evident in his accomplishments as a wrestler. With a dedicated work ethic and unwavering determination, he had managed to secure over 100 wins during his high school and college wrestling career. His agility, strength, and strategic thinking have earned him a reputation as a formidable opponent, showcasing his dominance on the mat.
Not limited to wrestling, Grant is also a talented football player. His speed, agility, and ability to read the game make him an invaluable asset to his team. Whether playing as a receiver, running back, or even on defense, Grant’s athleticism and passion for the sport shine through in every play.
Beyond his athletic achievements, Grant effortlessly navigates the social landscape. Popular among his teammates and peers, he exudes a magnetic charm that draws people to him. Grant’s friendly nature and ability to connect with others create a vibrant atmosphere wherever he goes. He is a reliable and supportive teammate, always encouraging and lifting the spirits of those around him.
To support himself financially, Grant juggled multiple jobs. He worked in retail, where his friendly demeanor and strong work ethic make him a valuable asset to the team. Additionally, he took on a part-time delivery job, displaying his commitment to taking responsibility and seeking opportunities for personal growth.
Grant’s profile painted the picture of a well-rounded individual, dedicated to both his athletic pursuits and his professional life. As a talented athlete, popular figure, and hardworking employee, Grant established himself as someone who embodied the qualities of an all-American jock while maintaining a strong work ethic and commitment to his responsibilities.
It was just another ordinary day for Grant, with the bustling chaos of college behind him, as he embarked on his evening pizza delivery job. Having already completed his first round of orders without a hitch, Grant set off on his second round, ready to bring delicious pizzas to hungry customers across the town.
However, fate had something unexpected in store for Grant. As he was making his way to deliver an order, his car suddenly began to sputter and jerk, before coming to a complete halt. Puzzled and frustrated, Grant pulled over to the side of the road, wondering what could have caused his car to malfunction.
Stepping out of his car, Grant inspected the vehicle, trying to identify any visible issues, but everything appeared to be in order. It was a perplexing situation that left him scratching his head, aware that he needed to find a solution soon to continue his deliveries.
Moments later, Grant realized another problem – he had no phone signal. Panic began to creep in as he attempted to make a call for help, only to be met with the silence of a failed connection. With his delivery spot still a few miles away and time ticking away, Grant weighed his options carefully.
Left with no other choice, Grant made the decision to rely on his own resourcefulness. He considered the stretch of country road he found himself on and determined that his best course of action would be to walk towards the nearest house and seek assistance. Resolutely, he set off on foot, determined to reach his destination and find a helpful stranger who might lend him their phone.
Walking along the quiet country road, Grant’s mind raced with thoughts of completing his deliveries and getting back on track. With each step, he hoped that a kind soul would be willing to offer assistance, knowing that time was of the essence. The unknown awaited him, but Grant was fueled by determination and the belief that he could overcome this unexpected hurdle and carry on with his duties.
Grant was exhausted as he approached the door of the house after what seemed like hours of walking. His muscles ached, and his mind was filled with worries about his car and the remaining deliveries. Desperation and hope mixed within him as he mustered the strength to knock on the door, desperately hoping that someone would be inside to assist him.
As Grant’s knuckles made contact with the door, he held his breath, waiting anxiously for a response. His heart skipped a beat as the door slowly creaked open, revealing a hushed interior. Grant had no inkling that the house he had stumbled upon belonged to none other than Dean Corll, a notorious serial killer who haunted the nightmares of countless people.
Inside, Dean Corll sat in his dimly lit home, intrigued by the unexpected visitor at his door. Curiosity mingled with a sinister anticipation as he contemplated who could be seeking help on this dark evening.
To Grant’s relief, Corll’s features were not those of a dangerous man. Instead, he wore a pleasant surprise on his face when he came face to face with the dark-haired, athletic young man standing at his door.
Corll, known for his manipulative ways and ability to mask his true nature, was momentarily taken aback by Grant’s youthful vigor and seemingly genuine predicament.
With an air of concern, Grant quickly explained the unfortunate circumstances – the broken-down car and the lack of phone service in the area. Sympathy etched on his face; Corll assured him that the area was indeed a dead zone for cell reception but kindly offered the use of the phone inside his house.
Expressing his gratitude, Grant stepped into the house, oblivious to the darkness lurking behind Corll’s warm smile. Little did he know, Corll’s true intentions were shrouded in malice and sadism, hiding the depths of his deadly desires.
As Grant made his way towards the phone, Corll’s gaze fixated on the young man’s strong, athletic physique.
A sinister grin spread across Corll’s face as he savored the opportunity before him.
In an instant, before Grant had barely picked up the receiver, Corll flung a chloroform-soaked rag towards him. The pungent odor filled the air as Grant reacted, struggling against the fumes invading his senses, desperate to escape the clutches of a fate he could never have imagined. But the strength quickly left his body as he succumbed to the overwhelming power of the chloroform, his struggles fading into unconsciousness.
As Corll gazed down at Grant, a sinister glint danced in his eyes, betraying the darkness that lurked within. His cold, intense stare seemed to strip Grant of any semblance of protection, leaving him vulnerable and exposed.
With a calculated movement, Corll slowly lowered himself down to his knees, his sinister intentions masked by an eerie calmness. The weight of his presence seemed to linger in the air, creating an oppressive atmosphere that Grant couldn’t escape.
Corll methodically and meticulously began removing Grant’s clothing, piece by piece. With each garment cast aside, Grant’s vulnerability became increasingly apparent. Corll’s hands moved with a disturbing precision, as if undressing his prey was a macabre ritual, he had performed countless times before. The act was devoid of any compassion or remorse, serving only to further strip away Grant’s dignity and control.
As Grant lay unconscious, Corll’s sadistic intentions took a more tangible form. With calculated precision, he placed handcuffs around Grant’s wrists, securing them firmly above his head. The metallic clinks echoed through the room, a chilling reminder of the restraint and imprisonment to come.
Not content with just immobilizing Grant’s hands, Corll proceeded to bind his ankles tightly to a sturdy wooden board. Each knot was tied meticulously, ensuring there would be no escape. It was a morbid display of power, a demonstration of how Corll could strip away both physical and mental freedom with ease.
Together, these actions painted a chilling portrait of Corll’s twisted desires – a glimpse into the disturbed mind that lay behind his calm and collected facade.
Grant’s eyes fluttered open, the disorientation and grogginess from his unconscious state slowly dissipating. As his vision cleared, he felt a wave of confusion and unease wash over him. He realized with shock that he was now stripped down to his underwear, his vulnerability exposed for all to see.
Fear and anger surged through Grant’s veins, fueling his demand for answers. His voice quivered with a mixture of apprehension and frustration as he demanded to know what was happening, his words laced with an overwhelming sense of urgency. “What’s going on? Why am I undressed? Who are you?” he forced out, determined to uncover the truth behind his state of undress and the ominous atmosphere surrounding him.
As the room remained silent, Grant’s heart rate quickened, a tangible sensation of helplessness creeping over him. Panic began to set in as he attempted to move, only to discover that his limbs were incapacitated. With growing horror, he realized that he was tightly bound, his wrists handcuffed above his head and his ankles securely tied to a formidable wooden board.
A wave of despair washed over him, mingling with the anger and fear that coursed through his veins. His once fierce demands turned into desperate pleas for release, his voice trembling with a mix of vulnerability and desperation. The realization of being rendered immobile and completely at the mercy of his captor overwhelmed him, leaving him trapped in a chilling nightmare from which he couldn’t awaken.
Grant’s voice quivered as he pleaded for his freedom, his words filled with a desperate longing to escape the nightmare that surrounded him. “Please, I beg you, let me go! I won’t tell anyone what happened here, just release me!” His pleas echoed through the room, a haunting reminder of his sheer desperation to be set free.
With tears welling in his eyes, Grant turned his attention to Corll, hoping to find some compassion or empathy within the sinister figure before him. He begged and implored, his voice cracking with the weight of his fear. “Please, Mr. Corll, have mercy. I don’t want to die; I have a family, people who care about me.”
In a chilling display of power, Corll retrieved a gleaming knife from a nearby surface, waving it provocatively in front of Grant’s face. The cold, metallic blade glinted menacingly under the dim light, casting fearful shadows on Grant’s trembling form. The mere presence of the weapon intensified Grant’s terror, his heart pounding in his chest as he imagined the pain it could inflict.
Fear gripped Grant’s trembling body, causing him to pause mid-plea. The realization of the danger that loomed over him paralyzed him momentarily. His breath came in shallow gasps as his wide eyes fixed on the knife, each moment dragging out in agonizing slow motion. Time seemed to stand still as his thoughts raced, his instincts urging him to fight or flee, yet his restraints kept him captive.
As Corll’s sadistic intentions manifested, Grant’s cries for mercy only intensified. He sobbed uncontrollably, a mixture of fear, pain, and desperation accompanying each agonizing plea. His body writhed in torment as he endured the unimaginable, his mind clinging to the faint hope of freedom that seemed to slip further away with each passing moment. Grant’s cries filled the air, a desolate symphony of suffering and despair, as he clung onto the sliver of hope that someday he might be released from this unimaginable torture.
Grant’s pleas for freedom grew louder, his sobs filling the room as he desperately begged for his life. His voice was laced with fear, a raw desperation that shook him to his core.
Corll, a sinister figure, slowly pulled out his gun and aimed it directly at Grant’s head. The cold metal of the weapon glistened under the dim light, sending a shiver down Grant’s spine. His heart raced, and his breath became shallow as he realized the severity of the situation.
Trembling uncontrollably, Grant pleaded with Corll, his voice trembling as he repeated, “No, don’t, please no.” Every word was punctuated by a strain of terror, his voice cracking with each syllable. The barrel of the gun was now mere millimeters away from his head, his life hanging on the edge of a precipice.
A chilling click echoed through the room as Corll pulled the trigger, a malicious grin spreading across his face. He reveled in the torment he inflicted, savoring Grant’s fear. Mocking laughter filled the air, intertwining with Grant’s pleas, a twisted symphony of sadism.
The gun clicked once more, sending Grant’s heart racing even faster. The sound grated on his ears, fueling his terror, as Corll’s laughter continued without remorse. Grant’s mind raced, wavering between hope and despair, as he tried to piece together the intentions behind these sadistic games.
For a fleeting moment, Grant allowed himself a breath, hopeful that this torment was merely a sick psychological mind game. Maybe Corll was relishing in his power to instill fear, Grant thought, desperately clinging to any semblance of hope. He dared to believe that the worst had yet to come.
But then, in an unimaginable instant, Corll pulled the trigger once more. The deafening blast filled the room, echoing off the walls as the bullet tore through Grant’s skull. Time seemed to slow as he collapsed in a gruesome ballet of agony.
Grant’s eyes, wide open with sheer terror, remained fixed in a haunting gaze. Blood and brain matter sprayed onto the walls behind him, creating a macabre mural of his violent demise. It was a chilling testament to the horror humankind was capable of, a sight that would forever haunt the witnesses who stumbled upon it.
Corll couldn’t help but smile evilly as he looked down at Grant’s lifeless body. The once vibrant young man now lay motionless before him, a hole neatly drilled in his forehead. The sight brought a twisted satisfaction to Corll, his eyes glinting with a sinister pleasure.
Realizing he needed to dispose of the evidence, Corll knew he had to take out the trash. He approached Grant’s lifeless body, the ropes that bound him now loose. With methodical precision, Corll carefully wrapped Grant’s body in a cold, unforgiving plastic sheet, ensuring every inch was covered, concealing the remains of his gruesome deed.
Dragging Grant’s body to his car, Corll felt a combination of adrenaline and anticipation coursing through his veins. The weight of the body serving as a reminder of the power he held over life and death. The plastic sheet rustled with every step, a chilling symphony of secrets that only Corll held.
Arriving at the secluded lake, Corll found solace in the darkness that surrounded him. The moon cast an eerie glow, illuminating the small clearing where he planned to bury Grant. Shivering with both excitement and fear, Corll laid Grant’s body gently on the ground, remnants of dirt and leaves clinging to the plastic sheet.
The lake’s stillness mirrored Corll’s cold determination as he started digging a shallow grave. Once the hole was ready, Corll carefully placed Grant’s wrapped body on the ground, reveling in the fact the jock’s lifeless form lay clad only in his underwear. The vulnerability of the situation only heightened the macabre atmosphere.
With a mix of defiance and satisfaction, Corll lowered Grant’s body into the makeshift grave, his heart pounding in his chest. Each shovelful of dirt hid the evidence, burying Grant alongside his secrets, ensuring that the lake would forever hold the chilling secret of what had transpired.
As Corll stood there, in the quiet darkness, a cruel smile played on his lips. The malevolent satisfaction of knowing he had taken control, extinguished a life, and eradicated any trace of his crime fueled an ever-growing darkness within him.
In the silence of the desolate lake, the body of popular jock Grant lay undisturbed in his makeshift grave. Wrapped tightly in a suffocating plastic sheet, he was destined to decay in isolation, forever hidden from the world above. Unbeknownst to his grieving family, Grant’s final resting place became a morbid secret known only to the one who had orchestrated his demise.
As days turned into weeks, the plastic sheet acted as a macabre cocoon, sealing Grant’s body within its confines. The once-athletic physique, admired by peers and desired by many, gradually succumbed to the inevitable process of decomposition. The vibrant, pulsating life that Grant once embodied now faded into an eerie stillness, as his flesh slowly broke down and merged with the earth.
Underneath the weight of the soil and the passing of time, the plastic sheet offered a grim preservation of Grant’s remains. The trapped air created a repulsive breeding ground for bacteria and fungi, hastening the decomposition process. The stench of death permeated the surrounding soil, carried away by the sparse winds at the lake, as nature worked tirelessly to claim its inevitability.
Grant’s final resting place remained undisturbed by his family’s sorrowful search for closure. Their desperate pleas and inquiries fell on deaf ears, as the truth of his whereabouts remained shrouded in darkness. The enormity of their loss gnawed in their hearts, an anguish that would haunt them for years to come, unaware of the tragedy that lay hidden just out of reach.
The passage of time bore witness to the gradual transformation of Grant’s body. His once-familiar features blurred and faded, eroded by the relentless march of decay. Skeletal remnants slowly emerged, as nature’s scavengers whispered in their eternal search for sustenance. Grant’s essence, his vibrant spirit that had once graced the halls of high school, was now reduced to a mere memory shrouded in decomposition.
As the seasons changed, the grave that held Grant’s decaying body remained undisturbed, untouched by the mourning hands of his family. With each passing year, the plastic sheet became increasingly brittle, its once-impermeable barrier wearing away under the weight of time. The elements embraced Grant’s remains, merging them with the very earth that had sheltered his existence.
Grant’s disappearance became a painful void in the lives of those who loved him. His absence, forever unexplained to his family, left a lingering sorrow that time could never heal. And so, beneath the silent veil of the plastic sheet, Grant’s existence slowly faded away, forever entwined with the melancholic secrets of the unmarked grave.
As King Cedric, the ambitious ruler, prepared for the much-anticipated third temple run, his actions sent shock waves throughout the land. Determined to make this iteration even grander than its predecessors, he devised a daring plan that would heighten the stakes and add a new layer of competition to the event.
In a bold move, King Cedric issued a decree that reverberated through every corner of the realm. He called upon all the prestigious colleges in the kingdom, renowned for their sports programs, to submit a nomination of who they believed to be one of their most exceptional athletes. It was a decision that left the kingdom abuzz with speculation and excitement.
The announcement spurred a flurry of activity within the colleges, as coaches, mentors, and athletes brainstormed and deliberated on the potential candidates. The chosen athlete would not only represent their college but also the honor of their realm as they stepped foot into the treacherous temple.
The rumor of King Cedric’s decree spread like wildfire, reaching even the most secluded corners of the kingdom. The promise of fame, glory, and the opportunity to test one’s mettle in the face of formidable challenges drew the attention of competitors and spectators alike.
As anticipation grew, the king unveiled another remarkable aspect of his plan. In an effort to incentivize the colleges, King Cedric declared that the college whose athlete was chosen to enter the temple would be rewarded handsomely. Gold and riches beyond imagination would flow into the coffers of the fortunate establishment, a grand reward for their exceptional athlete and an investment in their continued sports programs.
The proclamation ignited fierce competition amongst the colleges. Each institution sought to showcase their finest, fostering a spirit of healthy rivalry as they trained their athletes, honing their skills in preparation for the upcoming trials that awaited them within the temple’s ancient walls.
King Cedric reveled in the excitement and anticipation that danced within his kingdom. He knew that this decision would bring together both the elite and the common folk, igniting a collective passion for the temple run that surpassed any previous event. It was an opportunity to celebrate the prowess of his athletes, showcase the kingdom’s extraordinary talent, and further enrich the realm’s already vibrant sports culture.
And so, with an air of grandeur and an unprecedented twist, King Cedric prepared for the third temple run. Inviting the realm’s most promising athletes to step into the realm of legend, he set the stage for a thrilling spectacle that would captivate the hearts and imaginations of all who watched. The kingdom waited with bated breath, eager to witness the unveiling of the chosen athlete and the unfolding of the temple’s next chapter.
As news of King Cedric’s decree spread far and wide, the kingdom was swept up in a frenzied wave of excitement. Colleges from all corners of the realm flooded the royal court with thousands of applications, each vying for the coveted opportunity to have their athletes venture into the treacherous depths of the third temple run.
However, the sheer volume of applications left King Cedric with an overwhelming task. The monarch found himself inundated with mountains of parchment, each boasting the merits and achievements of their respective athletes. It was a daunting challenge to sift through this vast sea of talent to identify the truly exceptional contenders.
Determined to find the cream of the crop, King Cedric dedicated countless hours meticulously reviewing each application. He enlisted a team of trusted advisers and sports enthusiasts to assist him in the arduous task. One by one, they discerned the potential and prowess of the athletes, narrowing down the pool of applicants.
After intensive scrutiny, King Cedric finally arrived at a shortlist of three athletes, each displaying exceptional skill and potential. But he realized that mere words on parchment could not fully capture the essence of their talent. He yearned to witness their abilities firsthand, to see them shine in their natural element.
To decide who among the three would be chosen to face the ultimate challenge of the temple run, King Cedric made a fateful decision. He summoned his advisers and commanded a journey to witness these extraordinary athletes in action. The king would venture out to attend a number of sporting events where the shortlisted contenders would be showcasing their talents.
Excitement crackled in the air as word spread throughout the kingdom that their revered king would personally witness the prowess of the potential temple run participants. The chosen athletes themselves were overwhelmed with a mixture of honor, nervousness, and determination to impress their monarch.
Among the shortlisted athletes, one name stood out – a 19-year-old wrestler named Matty. His nomination had come as a surprise to him, as his college had submitted his name without his consent. Nonetheless, this unexpected honor stirred a mix of nerves and excitement within him as he prepared to showcase his skills.
The wrestling event was filled with eager spectators, unaware of the king’s presence. The crowd whispered in anticipation, wondering which of the young wrestlers had caught the attention of their regal guest. As the matches unfolded, their eyes darted from one wrestler to another, searching for signs that could indicate the chosen athlete.
Then, just as Matty stepped forward, the atmosphere seemed to shift. King Cedric himself, accompanied by his entourage, emerged into the wrestling arena. A hush fell over the crowd as they realized the true purpose of the king’s presence – to observe these young athletes, to witness their potential, and decide who would undertake the perilous temple run.
Clad in a vibrant blue singlet, Matty exuded a quiet confidence as he squared up to his opponent. The determination in his eyes was unmistakable, a fire burning within him, igniting with every opportunity to prove himself on the mat.
The wrestling match ensued, with both competitors displaying their technical prowess and strength. Matty showcased an impressive blend of skill and agility, countering his opponent’s moves with calculated precision. Every twist, turn, and grapple engaged the crowd, capturing their attention with the sheer athleticism on display.
The bout intensified; the atmosphere heavy with anticipation. Matty’s resolve never wavered as he fought off his opponent’s fierce attacks, utilizing his training and instinct to his advantage. Each hold, each twist, propelled him closer to victory.
And then, in a heart-stopping moment, Matty executed a perfect takedown, flooring his adversary and securing the winning pin.
The crowd erupted in thunderous applause, their cheers reverberating through the arena. Matty’s joy radiated from his face as he jumped to his feet, his acceptance of victory evident in his ecstatic celebration.
King Cedric, seated among his advisers, watched the match unfold with a keen eye. He observed Matty’s bravery, strength, and unwavering confidence on the wrestling mat. It was a display that revealed more than any words or applications ever could. His gaze lingered on Matty, taking note of every movement, every gesture, and every flicker of determination in his eyes.
A smile lit up King Cedric’s face as he realized in that moment that he had found the perfect participant for the third temple run. Whether it was the way Matty carried himself, the grit and ferocity in his wrestling prowess, or the unwavering spirit shining through, the king’s decision crystalized within him.
With a clap of his hands, King Cedric turned to his advisers, ready to announce Matty as the chosen athlete. The young wrestler’s bravery had won him the honor of representing both his college and the entire kingdom in the perilous quest that awaited within the mysterious temple. It was a decision born not only from the match but from seeing the indomitable spirit within Matty that had propelled him to victory.
As the cheers and applause echoed through the wrestling arena, King Cedric’s smile grew wider. Unable to contain his excitement any longer, he rose from his seat, a wave of anticipation washing over the crowd. They fell silent, their gazes fixed on the king, knowing that an important announcement was about to be made.
With a commanding voice that resonated through the arena, King Cedric proudly declared, “Ladies and gentlemen, it is with great pleasure that I announce that Matty Bianchi, the fearless wrestler standing before you, shall be the chosen athlete for the third temple run!”
A wave of elation coursed through the spectators, their cheers filling the air. Matty’s heart swelled with a mix of disbelief and exhilaration. The weight of the king’s proclamation settled upon him, an honor unlike anything he had ever imagined.
The wrestling event transformed into a jubilant celebration, as the crowd erupted in applause, clapping and cheering for Matty. The young wrestler, still overcome with joy, glanced towards King Cedric, feeling a profound sense of gratitude for this extraordinary opportunity.
King Cedric, his gaze filled with pride, extended his hand towards Matty, signaling him to come forward. With each step he took, Matty’s confidence surged, and a sense of purpose enveloped him. He approached the king, acknowledging the magnitude of his new role and the immense responsibility it bore.
In that instant, the entire kingdom knew that Matty would represent them all in the third temple run. He had proven himself not only athletically but also in embodying the bravery and determination that King Cedric sought in a participant. The crowd, aware they were witnessing a significant moment in history, embraced Matty as their hero, their hopes pinned on his success.
With a resounding applause still echoing in the background, King Cedric turned to Matty, his voice filled with admiration. “Matty, you have exhibited exceptional talent, resilience, and bravery. You have proven yourself worthy to face the challenges that await you in the temple. May your journey be filled with valor and triumph.”
The king’s words resonated within Matty, embedding themselves in his mind and heart. He felt a renewed determination and purpose, ready to embrace the upcoming trials with unwavering resolve.
As the sporting event concluded, and Matty’s triumph was acknowledged by his fellow competitors, King Cedric and his entourage departed the arena, leaving behind an atmosphere of triumph and anticipation. It was a day that would forever be etched in Matty’s memory, the day a 19-year-old wrestler became the chosen participant for the third temple run, brimming with the hopes and dreams of an entire kingdom.
Matty, the young man chosen to undertake the third temple run, had been immersed in the world of wrestling from an early age. Hailing from a family deeply rooted in the sport, he had grown up watching his brothers and father grapple on the mat, their passion for wrestling infectious. Wrestling was in his blood, coursing through his veins as if it was a part of his DNA.
Within the bustling household, Matty was one of seven siblings, making up a big, lively family. Four of his siblings were brothers, each of them having left their mark in the wrestling realm. Two sisters completed the vibrant clan, each offering their own unique talents and passions. Their home was a constant flurry of activity, with sibling rivalries and camaraderie weaving a tapestry of comradery and competition.
Even as a young boy, Matty had been earmarked for success on the wrestling mat. He possessed a natural athleticism, coupled with an unwavering determination that set him apart. Coaches and family members recognized his potential and nurtured it, allowing him to hone his skills and develop into an exceptional athlete.
However, away from the wrestling mat, Matty was known for his endearing personality. He was a sweet and charming young man, with a deep love and devotion for his family. Their bond was unbreakable, as they supported and cheered each other on in every pursuit, whether on or off the wrestling mat.
Matty’s love extended beyond his family. He had a soft spot for animals, often spending quality time with his beloved pets.
In his downtime, he enjoyed chilling by the pool, basking in the sun’s warm embrace. Working on his tan provided a respite from the intense training and competitions, allowing him to unwind and rejuvenate his spirit.
True to his sociable nature, Matty also cherished time spent with his vibrant circle of friends. They laughed, bonded, and shared countless memories together. Their camaraderie offered a valuable support system, lifting each other up through life’s triumphs and tribulations.
But amidst the camaraderie and social connections, there was one person who held a special place in Matty’s heart. He was deeply in love with his high school sweetheart, their relationship blossoming over the years. Their journey as a couple had weathered the tests of time, and they had proudly and officially been dating for several years. Through victories and setbacks, she had been a source of unwavering support and inspiration, driving Matty to achieve greatness both on and off the wrestling mat.
With a life replete with love, familial bonds, and a passion for wrestling, Matty stood as a testament to the values and experiences that had shaped him into the remarkable young man he was today. As he embarked on the third temple run, he carried not only his skills as a wrestler but a heart filled with determination, love, and an unyielding desire to make his family, friends, and high school sweetheart proud. As the date for the third temple run approached, Matty’s preparations became clouded with worry. A heavy feeling settled in his chest as he knelt on the wrestling mat during a practice session. Doubts loomed over him, growing darker and more ominous with each passing moment
It was at this moment that one of Matty’s older brothers, who was also his wrestling coach, noticed his distress. Recognizing the concern etched on Matty’s face, he approached him with a mix of concern and curiosity. Sensing something was amiss, he gently asked his younger brother what was weighing heavily on his mind.
With his heart pounding, Matty sat beside his brother and opened up about his fears. He shared the unsettling realization that the only two competitors who had taken part in the previous temple runs had tragically lost their lives. It was a stark truth that had gripped his thoughts and haunted his every waking moment. The fear of meeting the same fate consumed him, casting a dark shadow over his purpose and determination.
His brother listened attentively, offering a supportive presence in the midst of Matty’s anxiety. With calm reassurance, he reminded Matty of the intangible qualities that set him apart – his strength, his unwavering confidence, and his indomitable courage. He emphasized that this combination made Matty a force to be reckoned with, a warrior capable of conquering any challenge thrown his way.
But it wasn’t just Matty’s inherent attributes that his brother highlighted as a source of strength. In a heartfelt moment, he reminded Matty of their shared heritage as Bianchi’s. The family name, renowned for its resilience and success, had been built on a foundation of perseverance and determination. It was a legacy that Matty carried within him, instilling in him the belief that losing was not an option.
With a firm grip on Matty’s shoulder, his brother concluded their conversation, leaving no doubt in his younger brother’s mind. “Matty, you are a Bianchi, and Bianchi’s never lose. Your strength, your talent, and your extraordinary courage will see you through. The temple run will be challenging, but I promise you, there is no way you will meet the same fate as those before you. You will come back victorious.”
In that moment of unwavering support and brotherly assurance, a flicker of hope ignited within Matty. Though the fear still lingered, it began to lose sway over his spirit. With his brother’s words echoing in his mind, he rekindled his determination and resolved to face the forthcoming temple run with the strength and resilience that ran deep within his Bianchi bloodline.
In the days leading up to the temple run, Matty channeled his apprehensions into a relentless training regime. Each morning, before the sun peeked over the horizon, he laced up his running shoes and hit the pavement. The rhythmic pounding of his footsteps echoed through the quiet streets as he pushed himself to run greater distances and increase his stamina.
But it wasn’t just his endurance that Matty focused on during his training. He recognized the importance of honing his agility and speed, skills that would be paramount in navigating the treacherous obstacles he would face. As the sun rose higher in the sky, he would head to the wrestling mat, dedicating countless hours to practicing his moves and perfecting his agility.
With each swift maneuver and strategic grapple, Matty grew more confident in his abilities. He trained tirelessly, understanding that this opportunity demanded nothing less than his absolute best. Sweat dripped from his brow as he pushed himself beyond his limits, the wrestling mat becoming a place where he transformed his fears into determination.
Throughout the day, the sights and sounds of training surrounded Matty. The repetitive sound of the punching bag reverberated in his training space, as he strengthened his fists and practiced his strikes. The weight of the dumbbells he lifted repeatedly grew more familiar, as he built strength and endurance necessary for the physical challenges the temple run would present.
Not only did Matty push his physical boundaries, but he also dedicated time to mentally prepare himself. Visualization exercises became a regular part of his training routine. He would close his eyes and picture each obstacle he would encounter in the temple run, envisioning himself overcoming them with ease and grace. This mental preparation allowed him to forge a strong connection between his mind and body, leaving no room for doubt or fear.
As the day drew to a close, Matty would retire to his room, his body tired from the intense training. He would study the layout of the temple, delving deep into any available information to gain a tactical advantage. Maps and blueprints covered his walls, his mind filled with strategies and potential routes to success.
With each passing day, Matty’s training intensified. He pushed himself beyond his limits, determined to be ready for any challenge that awaited him in the third temple run. Through the repetition of his daily routines, he sculpted his body and mind, preparing himself to face the unknown. With a steadfast resolve, he knew that his training would not only support his physical prowess but also strengthen his mental fortitude in the face of adversity.
In the days leading up to the highly anticipated temple run interview, Matty found himself constantly stopped by people wherever he went. The murmurs and whispers of excitement filled the air as strangers recognized him, their faces lighting up with genuine admiration. It seemed that the news of his participation in the temple run had spread like wildfire, capturing the attention and intrigue of his community.
With a humble smile, Matty graciously obliged as people approached him, requesting photos and expressing their unyielding support. He posed for countless snapshots, feeling the warmth of their encouragement radiate through the camera lens. The atmosphere brimmed with excitement and belief in his abilities, the well-wishes from strangers uplifting his spirits and fueling his determination.
As he walked the streets, the conversations took on a consistent theme – the upcoming temple run. Passersby would pause their hurried steps or join Matty in line at the coffee shop, eager to offer words of encouragement and best wishes for the upcoming event. Infused with an overwhelming sense of community, Matty found strength in the shared enthusiasm and support of those around him.
During these interactions, small moments of vulnerability intertwined with excitement. The occasional touch on his arm or a familiar pat on the back served as gentle reminders of the immense responsibility he carried. People’s hopes and expectations rested on his shoulders, a testament to the impact he had left on their lives through his dedication and passion for wrestling.
Through it all, Matty remained humble, recognizing the significance of goodwill and belief in his success. He understood that this journey was not just his own but a collective effort, propelled forward by the faith and support of those who saw his potential. The encounters with strangers became an uplifting reminder that he had become more than just a wrestler; he had become a symbol of hope and inspiration in the eyes of his community.
Amidst the constant interruptions and well-wishes, Matty embraced the genuine connections formed with each person he encountered. He listened attentively to their stories and absorbed their kind words, their encouragement grounding him in the truth that he was not alone on this journey. With every photo taken and every word spoken, he felt a renewed sense of purpose and an unwavering determination to make his community proud.
The day of Matty’s highly anticipated TV interview had finally arrived, marking the final countdown before he would enter the temple. As the camera panned across the screen, a banner displaying Matty’s intense expression with his arms crossed boldly popped up, capturing the attention of viewers across the country.
With a burst of energy, Matty entered the stage, wearing his wrestling singlet, showcasing his physique and readiness for action. The audience erupted into cheers and applause, their excitement becoming palpable. Seizing the moment, Matty struck a most muscular pose, flexing his muscles as the crowd’s voice grew louder, filled with admiration and anticipation.
Taking a deep breath, Matty then let out a triumphant cheer, his voice echoing through the studio as Temple Run TV host, Carey Hazelness, guided him to a seat. The cheers from the audience continued, a harmonious chorus of supporters calling out Matty’s name, their enthusiasm reverberating through the studio walls.
In the midst of the uproar, Matty couldn’t help but notice the admiration from a group of female fans, their chants intertwining with the chorus of his name. Their support added an electrifying element to the atmosphere, showing that his appeal went beyond the realm of wrestling, resonating with new fans attracted to his undeniable charm.
As the interview commenced, Carey Hazelness, with her signature charisma, asked Matty about his thoughts on being nominated for the temple run. Matty’s face lit up with a mix of surprise and gratitude as he shared his initial disbelief. However, he expressed his determination to seize the opportunity, not just for himself, but also for the honor of his family name and college.
Carey delved deeper into Matty’s background, curious to know more about the journey that led him to this pivotal point in his life. Matty’s voice resonated with sincerity as he spoke of the sacrifices he and his family had made. He spoke of early morning practices, late nights studying, and the unwavering support of his loved ones. He emphasized his gratitude for the opportunities wrestling had presented him, shaping him into the person he had become.
Towards the end of the interview, Matty was presented with a flag representing his college. Pride swelled within him as he grasped the flag, posing for photographs, capturing this poignant moment in his journey.
With a sense of elation, Matty left the interview, his heart brimming with excitement for what lay ahead in the temple, but also with a tinge of nervousness, aware of the challenges and uncertainties that awaited him.
As Matty stepped out into the world, the echoes of the audience’s cheers still reverberating in his ears, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of nervous energy coursing through his veins. His excitement mixed with trepidation; he understood that the temple run would test him in ways he had never imagined. But with the support and faith of his family, friends, and newfound fans, he was ready to face whatever obstacles lay ahead, determined to make them proud and carve his name in the history of the temple run.
Later that evening, as the anticipation surrounding Matty’s temple run grew, a national newspaper known for its sensationalist content chose to publish an article on its website featuring him. However, the direction the newspaper took was rather disappointing. Sensationalizing and objectifying the young wrestler, the article was accompanied by a picture of Matty in his wrestling singlet.
The eye-catching headline chosen by the newspaper read, “Is This the Best Booty You’ve Ever Seen on a Guy?” Unfortunately, instead of focusing on Matty’s skills, dedication, or achievements, the newspaper decided to objectify him, reducing him to a mere physical aspect of his appearance.
The photograph featured in the article focused on Matty’s back, where the wrestling singlet clung tightly to his backside.
While the intention might have been to generate attention or controversy, it overshadowed the essence of Matty as an athlete, captivating his talent and the hard work he had put into his wrestling career. It was disheartening to see the newspaper prioritize such objectification over the merit of Matty’s accomplishments.
Despite the newspaper’s attempt to sensationalize and perpetuate a shallow image of Matty, his true supporters and fans continued to admire him for his dedication, skill, and perseverance. They understood that his success and journey were much more significant than a single photograph. These supporters held onto the belief in his abilities and recognized him for the remarkable wrestler and person he was beyond any salacious headlines or images.
Matty, being a young and light-hearted individual, came across the article and the comments on the website. Rather than allowing himself to be disheartened by the objectifying nature of the content, he found amusement in the situation. As he read through some of the comments, he couldn’t help but giggle and laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
Knowing that his worth as a wrestler extended far beyond his physical appearance, Matty understood that the article and its comments were simply a shallow attempt to undermine his achievements. Instead of taking them to heart, he chose to brush off the negativity, focusing on the support and admiration he had received from genuine fans, friends, and family.
With a positive mindset and a resilient spirit, Matty recognized that it was within his power to rise above the superficiality and maintain his integrity as an athlete. His ability to find humor in the situation showcased his strength and maturity, reinforcing the fact that his inner character and dedication to his craft were far more impactful than any superficial commentary.
By not allowing the article’s objectification to affect him negatively, Matty showcased his ability to rise above such portrayal and continued to focus on his goals, his passion for wrestling, and the immense support he had from those who truly believed in him. His ability to find laughter where others might find frustration or disappointment further demonstrated his resilience and determination to succeed on his own terms.
On the highly anticipated day of the Temple Run, the atmosphere was electric as the crowd eagerly awaited the arrival of the wrestlers. Among them stood Matty, a charismatic wrestler, dressed in his sleek and form-fitting wrestling singlet. The audience erupted in cheers, their voices echoing throughout the arena, as they chanted his name in unison. The TV cameras captured every moment, focusing particularly on Matty’s captivating presence.
As the time for the Temple Run drew near, Matty found himself standing alongside King Cedric. With a mixture of excitement and nervous energy, Matty extended his hand for a handshake, which King Cedric graciously reciprocated. In a thoughtful gesture, King Cedric wished Matty luck in his upcoming temple run, holding their joined hands aloft for the crowd to witness their camaraderie.
Just beyond the spotlight, a beaming entourage from Matty’s college was present, ensuring their full support for their esteemed representative. Pride radiated from their faces as they watched one of their own prepare to take on the revered Temple. The entourage understood the magnitude of the moment and the significance it held for both Matty and their college. Feeling a strong sense of unity and belonging, they reveled in the anticipation of seeing their college’s name etched into wrestling history.
As the crowd’s energy reached a fever pitch, Matty turned to face the excited spectators. Confidence exuded from his every movement as he locked eyes with the sea of fans that had gathered to witness this thrilling event. With determination fueling his every step, he made his way toward the imposing temple doors, each stride showcasing his unwavering belief in his abilities and the tireless dedication he had exerted to reach this crucial juncture of his wrestling career.
The aura surrounding Matty was palpable, a unique blend of charisma, passion, and a hint of playfulness. The crowd, captivated by his presence, couldn’t help but feel drawn to his magnetic energy. In that moment, as he confidently embarked on his journey toward the temple doors, the spectators knew they were about to witness something extraordinary, a display of skill, strength, and resilience that would leave an indelible mark on their memories.
As Matty crossed the threshold into the treacherous temple, a mix of excitement, adrenaline, and a slight hint of nervousness surged through his veins. He knew that every step he took within these ancient walls carried the weight of potential victory or defeat. The gravity of the challenge ahead did not deter him; instead, it fueled his determination to prove himself in this high-stakes arena.
Standing still for a moment, Matty took a deep breath and surveyed his surroundings. The temple was shrouded in an aura of mystery, its dimly lit corridors stretching out before him. The air was thick with anticipation, and the distant echo of past participant’s La footsteps only added to the mystique. With a clear focus, he absorbed every detail, his mind processing the potential dangers and obstacles he was about to face.
Despite the hazards that lay in wait, Matty exuded an unwavering confidence. Years of training, honing his wrestling skills, and overcoming obstacles had prepared him for this very moment. Every muscle in his body felt alive and ready, as he instinctively moved deeper into the temple. His senses were heightened, keenly aware of the traps that lay in his path.
With cat-like reflexes, Matty quickly ducked out of the way as he encountered a series of traps carefully designed to test his agility. His movements were graceful and swift, reflecting the confidence within him. He meticulously calculated his steps, seamlessly sidestepping swinging blades and evading falling debris. Each successful evasion fueled his determination even further, as he felt an exhilarating rush upon surpassing these early obstacles.
In this critical moment, Matty’s self-assurance became his armor, shielding him from doubt or fear. His training and preparation had instilled a deep trust in his abilities, allowing him to move forward with unyielding resolve. As he continued his journey through the temple, he remained focused on the ultimate goal, driven by an unshakeable confidence that would carry him through whatever lay ahead.
As Matty progressed deeper into the temple, his initial confidence began to transform into a subtle sense of cockiness. Each successful dodge of a trap or display of his agility elevated his confidence, making him increasingly aware of the observation from the watching eyes. Having a reputation for showmanship, Matty couldn’t resist the opportunity to flaunt himself, knowing that people were indeed watching.
With each step, his movements became more deliberate, each turn executed with flair. He flexed his muscles, showcasing his toned physique, and playfully blew kisses to the imaginary audience. He reveled in the attention he garnered, basking in the adulation of the crowd that he imagined was cheering him on.
However, Matty’s cockiness did not make him reckless. Despite his flamboyance, he remained calculated and focused on the imminent dangers that lurked around every corner. He had come perilously close to facing death multiple times, but his wit and quick thinking had saved him from the clutches of certain doom. He knew the stakes were high, and every near-miss with the Reaper taught him to respect the treacherous nature of the temple.
Although Matty had escaped the grips of deadly traps, he was aware that another formidable challenge awaited him—the potential encounter with man-eating creatures. As he ventured deeper into the temple, he marveled at his luck so far, having not yet faced one of these fearsome beasts. The absence of such confrontations, however, did not lessen his vigilance. He remained cautiously alert, recognizing that his fortune could turn at any moment.
Matty’s growing confidence, coupled with his cautious demeanor, created a delicate balance within him. He revealed in the attention and the knowledge that eyes were fixed upon him, but he tempered this with the awareness of the imminent dangers that surrounded him. It was this delicate dance between cockiness and caution that fueled his determination to emerge victorious from the temple, capturing both the audience’s admiration and the satisfaction of triumph over the challenges that lay in his path.
As Matty ventured deeper into the depths of the temple, his enthusiasm was momentarily subdued as he came across the haunting sight of Isaiah’s skull, and blood stained wall a grim reminder of the dangers that lurked within. The skull, weathered and worn, served as a silent testament to the perils that awaited those who dared to challenge the temple’s treacherous path.
Instinctively, a chill ran down Matty’s spine as he caught a glimpse of the skull. He knew all too well that Isaiah’s journey had ended in tragedy, and the creature responsible for his demise could still be lurking close by. It was a stark reminder that this tantalizing adventure was not without its deadly consequences.
Exercising caution, Matty quickly hurried past the haunting remains, suppressing any urge to investigate further. He understood that dwelling on the gruesome fate of previous participants would only distract him from his own mission. His focus sharpened, and he tapped into his instincts, keenly aware that every step, every decision could be a matter of life or death.
As he forged ahead, a mix of trepidation and determination fueled his progress. His heart raced, and his senses became heightened, attuned to the slightest rustle or shift in the shadows. Every ounce of his being urged him to move forward swiftly, keeping a wary eye out for any signs of the creature that had claimed Isaiah’s life.
Matty knew that dwelling on the potential danger would only erode his confidence and could cloud his judgment. With steely determination, he reminded himself that he possessed the skills and resilience needed to surpass any obstacle or adversary that lay in his path. He pressed on, refusing to let fear dictate his actions, as the intensity of the temple intensified around him.
With each step, Matty remained on high alert, fully aware that the creature that had brought about Isaiah’s demise could be just inches away. Despite the lingering shadow of danger, Matty’s spirit remained unyielding, bolstered by the knowledge that he must push forward and conquer not just the temple, but also his own fears.
As Matty ventured a little further into the temple, his determination pushing him forward, he soon came to a sudden halt when he found himself face to face with the gruesome sight of a decomposing body. It was the remains of the last participant, known as the Black Raven Matt. The stench of decay hung heavily in the air, as flies buzzed around the macabre scene.
The sight was horrifying. The body of Black Raven Matt had been ravaged by the man-eating creatures that prowled the temple. Bite marks and torn flesh adorned his mangled remains, a testament to the viciousness of the beasts that lurked in the shadows. The image was enough to turn even the strongest stomach.
Feeling a mixture of disgust, empathy, and a deep sense of gratitude for having made it this far, Matty paused to reflect. His eyes glanced over the desecrated remains of his fellow wrestler, silently acknowledging the danger and sacrifice that had taken place within these unforgiving walls.
In a quiet moment of reverence, Matty made the sign of the cross, a gesture to honor the fallen and as a reminder of the stakes at hand. The gravity of the situation washed over him, reminding him that one wrong move, one lapse in concentration, could lead to a fate similar to Black Raven Matt’s.
With a renewed sense of urgency, Matty pushed forward, leaving the remains behind him. The memory of the horrific sight fueled his determination to stay vigilant, to keep his wits about him in the face of the challenges that still awaited.
He knew that he could not afford to let complacency or fear slow him down. Every step, every decision he made from that point on held the potential to determine his own fate.
As Matty bravely ventured deeper into the labyrinthine temple, he realized that he had made history as the participant who had ventured the furthest. The weight of this achievement buoyed his spirits, emboldening him to tackle the daunting challenges that still lay ahead. With each step, his confidence grew, propelling him forward with unwavering determination.
However, as he encountered a fork in the path, a momentary pause interrupted his confident stride. The gravity of the decision before him weighed heavily on his mind. He knew that choosing the wrong path could lead to dire consequences. Deliberating his options, he surveyed both paths with a keen, calculating eye.
After a careful assessment, Matty instinctively chose the left fork. A shiver of anticipation coursed through him as he ventured into the unknown. Each footfall was measured, cautious yet purposeful, as he navigated the dimly lit path. The air grew denser, and the sound of his own heartbeat echoed in his ears.
With every step along the left fork, Matty remained acutely aware of the potential dangers that could be lurking just out of sight. Shadows danced on the walls, and the silence weighed heavily, broken only by the soft sound of his own breath. The atmosphere shifted, becoming more oppressive as he delved further into the uncharted depths of the temple.
Time seemed to stretch as Matty pressed on, stepping carefully to avoid triggering any hidden traps or alerting any lurking creatures. Though his progress was slow, he remained focused, alert to the possibility of any imminent danger. Each cautious advancement exemplified his resilience and unwavering determination to triumph over the temple’s relentless challenges.
As Matty slowly ventured forward along the left fork, the anticipation of what lay ahead gnawed in his mind. The path remained treacherous, and the unknown awaited him with bated breath. Yet, his unwavering conviction propelled him forward, his resolve unyielding. Each step drew him closer to the ultimate test of strength, agility, and wit at the heart of the temple.
Unbeknownst to Matty, danger lurked just up ahead, concealed within the shadows of the temple. As he cautiously continued along the left fork, his steps measured and deliberate, he remained oblivious to the imminent threat that awaited him.
A giant snake, camouflaged amongst the foliage, lay in wait. Its sinewy body coiled around ancient stone pillars, ready to strike at any moment. Hungry and desperate, the serpent’s venomous eyes burned with intensity, its fangs glistening in anticipation. It had been a while since its last meal, and the scent of potential prey alerted its predatory instincts.
The snake’s hunger grew with each passing moment, its reptilian hunger pangs intensifying. It had patiently stalked its domain, waiting for an opportune moment to strike, and Matty had unwittingly walked into its deadly hunting ground. The creature’s instincts sharpened; its senses attuned to the slightest vibration in the air.
As Matty crept closer, the snake’s anticipation reached a fever pitch. Its supple muscles tensed, readying for the decisive leap towards its next meal. The eerie silence of the temple was disrupted only by the hiss of its slithering form, as the creature prepared to unleash its deadly assault.
Little did Matty know that in just a few short steps, his path would cross with the dangerous predator that awaited him. The danger that lurked just ahead would test not only his physical prowess but also his quick thinking and survival instincts. Whether Matty would escape the clutches of the slithering peril or become another victim of the temple’s treacherous challenges now hung in the balance.
As Matty delved deeper into the treacherous depths of the temple, King Cedric observed his every move with a chilling smile etched upon his face. The watching audience, filled with anticipation and hope, remained ignorant of the true nature of what lay ahead. But King Cedric, unlike them, knew without a shadow of a doubt that it wouldn’t end well for Matty.
While the spectators held their breath in suspense, their eyes wide with excitement, King Cedric saw through the facade of the game. He could foresee the impending doom, the dire outcome that awaited Matty as he ventured further into the temple’s clutches. He relished this knowledge, savoring the power he held over the ignorant participants.
In the midst of the crowd’s raucous cheers and eager anticipation, King Cedric kept his gestures subtle, masking his delight in the entertainment he had orchestrated. From his majestic throne at the heart of the arena, he observed with an air of superiority, his eyes sparkling with a sinister glint.
While the spectators were lost in their hopes of triumph and victory, King Cedric revealed in the cruel twist he had designed. He played puppeteer, guiding the participants towards their ultimate demise, knowing that their dreams of triumph would be dashed against the temple’s merciless challenges.
With each passing moment, his amusement grew, fueled by the certainty of Matty’s impending downfall. King Cedric’s smile remained intact, a chilling reminder of the darkness that lurked within his soul. While the audience cheered and applauded, unaware of the true intentions behind the game, King Cedric relished the knowledge that he held all the cards, orchestrating Matty’s path towards an inevitable and devastating end.
Matty stood, oblivious to the danger that lurked nearby, within reach of the hungry giant snake. Unbeknownst to him, the snake sensed the presence of the meaty wrestler, his scent permeating the air. With flickering tongue and keen senses, the snake detected the vibrations of Matty’s footsteps, revealing his location as a potential meal.
The giant non-venomous snake, although not a threat in terms of venom, recognized Matty’s substantial form as a suitable target. It coiled its powerful body, preparing to strike with its elongated fangs. With an abrupt burst of energy, the snake burst forth from its concealed hiding place, propelled by pure strength and agility.
With astonishing precision, the snake sank its fangs into Matty’s shoulder, not to inject venom, but to secure a grip. As the wrestler’s flesh was punctured, his heightened senses awoke to searing pain. The snake, now firmly attached, began to constrict its robust body around Matty, aiming to immobilize him and render him defenseless.
As the giant snake tightened its grip, Matty felt the increasing pressure constricting his chest, making it harder and harder to draw breath. Panic surged through his body as he struggled to inhale, his ribcage compressed by the serpent’s powerful coils. With each passing second, the air became scarce, leaving him gasping for precious oxygen.
Matty’s struggle for breath intensified as the snake’s coils squeezed tighter. His lungs strained, deprived of the oxygen they desperately craved. Dizziness and weakness set in as the constricting force constricted his diaphragm and limited the expansion of his chest. The wrestler’s gasps grew weaker, his energy fading, as his body fought against the suffocating hold of the relentless serpent.
As the snake slowly tightened its grip, Matty endured increasing pain, knowing that his life was slipping away. Fear, regret, and a profound sense of loss consumed his thoughts. The realization of his imminent death loomed before him, weighing heavily on his mind. He grappled with a kaleidoscope of emotions, a mix of sorrow, despair, and longing, as he resigned himself to the fate that awaited him and knew he would ever see his girlfriend or family ever again.
Matty’s face contorted under the unyielding pressure of the snake’s grip. Sweat mingled with tears, tracing down his strained features. His eyes, filled with anguish and fading hope, reflected the harrowing realization that his demise was near. The strain of the serpent’s constriction distorted his face, etching lines of pain and despair onto his countenance.
As Matty’s life force gradually dimmed, the giant snake, attuned to the cessation of movements, sensed his lifeless body. Slowly, it began to uncoil itself, recognizing the absence of struggle. With measured movements, the snake released its grip from around Matty, its coils unwinding and its presence fading away, leaving behind a life extinguished and a tragic end to the confrontation.
As the snake uncoiled itself from Matty’s lifeless body, it moved with sinister grace towards his head. Its serpentine form glistened under the dim light, its scales reflecting a sickly green hue. With a sinewy movement, the giant snake approached the top of Matty’s head, its massive jaws opening wider and wider.
The snake’s mouth unhinged, revealing rows upon rows of razor-sharp fangs as it prepared to consume the lifeless wrestler. Its unhinged jaw seemed almost unnatural, stretching beyond what its size would suggest. The sight was both mesmerizing and horrifying, as the snake’s cavernous maw seemed to defy the limitations of its own body.
With deliberate slowness, the giant snake closed its gaping jaws around Matty’s head, beginning the macabre process of swallowing him whole. The motion was agonizingly slow, and each moment felt like an eternity as the snake’s muscular throat muscles worked diligently to engulf the lifeless form.
Matty’s vacant eyes stared up at the temple ceiling, frozen in a haunting expression of horror. The knowledge of his fate seemed to linger even after death, as if his soul could still perceive the inescapable horror that awaited him. His vacant gaze met no solace, only the empty expanse of the temple above.
The giant snake proceeded to take its time, savoring the gruesome feast before it. It moved with rhythmic undulations, its body coiling around Matty’s limp form, gradually enveloping him. Each inch of Matty’s body disappeared into the snake’s monstrous mouth, inch by agonizing inch.
At home, Matty’s family and girlfriend watched the horrifying scene unfold, their screams of disbelief and terror echoing through the walls. Their eyes widened in disbelief as they helplessly witnessed their loved one being devoured by this monstrous creature, devoid of any power to intervene.
The giant snake continued its methodical consumption, now reaching Matty’s legs. Its unhinged jaw extended further, accommodating the wrestler’s seemingly endless form. The snake’s muscular throat contracted rhythmically, swallowing Matty’s legs inch by agonizing inch. The helpless viewers could only gasp in horror, a mixture of distaste and despair etched on their faces.
It was a chilling sight when, after what felt like an eternity, Matty’s feet, still clad in their wrestling boots, began to slowly disappear down the bottomless abyss of the snake’s mouth. The black hole-like maw consumed his lower appendages with a disturbing finality, leaving only the haunting silence of a swallowed man. The world seemed to stand still as the snake’s monstrous meal was completed, Matty’s life and body claimed by its insatiable appetite.
As Matty’s feet disappeared down the throat of the snake, King Cedric’s face contorted into a sinister grin. He let out a triumphant laugh, raising his goblet of wine in a celebratory toast. The king had always been known for his sadistic tendencies, finding pleasure in the suffering of others.
With each gulp taken by the snake, the king’s delight grew. He reveled in the macabre scene unfolding before him, relishing the power he held over life and death in his dark and twisted realm. His eyes gleamed with a malevolent satisfaction, thoroughly enjoying the gruesome demise of the attractive wrestler.
Meanwhile, the audience in the temple was in utter shock. Gasps, cries, and stunned silence filled the air as they watched in disbelief at the horrific spectacle. Faces turned pale, some covered their mouths in horror, unable to comprehend the brutality that had just transpired before their eyes.
Whispers of dismay rippled through the crowd, mingling with the palpable sense of dread that hung heavy in the air. Some of the audience was taken aback by the sheer cruelty and heartlessness of what they had witnessed. Whilst others enjoyed the morbid spectacle.
Matty’s college was sent into a state of shock upon learning of the devastating fate that had befallen one of their star athletes. While they were aware of the inherent risks involved in the temple run, the reality of losing a talented and vibrant student-athlete was a devastating blow.
The temple fell into an eerie silence, as if nature itself held its breath in the wake of the tragic events that had unfolded. The air grew heavy with the weight of grief, suffocating the once vibrant atmosphere. Whispers of disbelief and sorrow lingered, and the temple’s grandeur seemed to pale in comparison to the loss that had befallen them.
As the giant snake slithered through the temple’s ancient halls to its resting place, it carried Matty’s lifeless body within its grasp. In the darkness of its insides, the snake’s muscular contractions propelled Matty’s limp form along a labyrinthine path. The rough, moist walls of the serpent’s digestive system pressed against his motionless body, each pulsation of the snake’s muscles ushering him forward.
Inside the snake’s stomach, Matty now lay, alone and enveloped in the suffocating darkness. The stomach walls, slick with digestive enzymes, clung to his skin, suffusing him with a slimy residue. The acidic environment began its slow and agonizing work, as his body was subjected to the corrosive power of the snake’s digestion.
Gradually, the acids within the snake’s stomach began to break down Matty’s remains. The enzymes acted upon his flesh, liquefying it, while the intense muscular contractions of the snake’s stomach kneaded his remains. The process continued, his body becoming a slurry of nutrients, slowly assimilated by the snake’s digestive system.
Matty’s once vibrant and vibrant body began to disintegrate within the belly of the giant snake. As time passed, his physicality blurred, his limbs dissolving, and his features becoming unrecognizable. Bone by bone, his lifeless form disassembled, reduced to fragments, fueling the snake’s insatiable hunger.
Within the belly of the snake, Matty’s consciousness existed no more. Consumed by darkness, his essence melded into the void, forever entwined with the fate that had befallen him. The once radiant spirit now melded with the echoes of countless other victims claimed by the merciless predator, bound to roam the snake’s cavernous stomach for eternity.
In the aftermath of Matty’s tragic death within the Temple Run, the somber atmosphere extended to the discussion on the TV show. The host, Carey Hazelness, took a deep breath, her usually lively energy replaced with a solemn demeanor as she addressed the audience.
With a tinge of sadness in her voice, Carey began discussing Matty’s performance in the temple. She spoke of his bravery, determination, and the admirable effort he had put into the challenges presented before him. The consensus among the hosts was that Matty had shown promise and had fought valiantly, making his untimely demise all the more heartbreaking. They expressed their belief that Matty did not deserve to meet such a horrific fate.
As Carey struggled to hold back tears, she confessed her inability to watch as the snake devoured Matty’s lifeless body on screen. The presenter’s empathy for Matty’s girlfriend and loved ones was evident as she acknowledged the immense pain they must be experiencing. The spectacle of such a grisly event was too much to bear, even for someone accustomed to the intense nature of the show.
As the TV show came to a close, a picture of Matty filled the screen.
Carey’s voice trembled slightly as she offered some kind words about Matty’s character and the impact he had made during his time on the show. She emphasized his infectious spirit, his kindness, and the memories that he had left behind. The image of Matty lingered for a brief moment, a tribute to his life and a reminder of the void left by his sudden passing.
In the wake of the tragedy, the TV show served not only as entertainment but also as a platform for remembrance and reflection. Carey’s heartfelt words served as a small solace amidst the sorrow, leaving a lasting impression of Matty’s presence and the indelible mark he had made within the show’s community.
In a heartfelt tribute to honor Matty’s memory, a large poster featuring his image was erected in the solemn halls of the main temple. The poster stood tall, capturing Matty’s dynamic spirit in a striking display. Positioned prominently, it was placed next to the posters of Isaiah and Matty, the other beloved contestants who had met a similar unfortunate fate.
The poster showcased Matty in his wrestling singlet, a testament to his athleticism and dedication. His muscular form exuded strength and determination, symbolizing the unyielding spirit with which he had faced the challenges within the temple. Matty’s college flag proudly draped behind him, representing not only his personal achievements but also his unwavering loyalty and pride for his educational institution.
The colors on the poster radiated vibrancy, capturing the essence of Matty’s lively personality. His confident gaze seemed to penetrate the depths of the temple, as if daring others to follow in his footsteps and conquer the obstacles that had claimed his life. The image served as a reminder of his fierce tenacity, inspiring those who glanced upon it to embrace courage and perseverance.
As visitors passed through the temple hall, their eyes would invariably be drawn to the poster: a poignant visual tribute to Matty’s life and the impact he had made during his time within the temple’s domain. It would stand as a solemn reminder of the unpredictable nature of the challenges faced by the contestants, and the fragility of life itself.
The poster’s placement alongside that of the other participants fostered a sense of camaraderie, linking Matty’s journey with that of another fallen contestant. Side by side, their images offered a poignant reminder of the shared struggles within the temple, as well as the indomitable spirit of those who had dared to step foot within it.
In the hallowed halls of the temple, the poster of Matty in his wrestling singlet, alongside his college flag, would forever serve as a testament to his bravery, his athletic prowess, and the tragic end that awaited him. It would stand as a solemn tribute to a life cut short, but not forgotten.
Matty’s girlfriend was consumed by a wave of indescribable grief upon witnessing the unfathomable horror of his demise. Shock and anguish gripped her heart, as the image of Matty being struck down by the Giant snake haunted her memory. The realization that she had witnessed the loss of the person she loved filled her with immense pain that seemed insurmountable.
In the days that followed, she found solace in their cherished memories. She held onto their shared moments like precious treasures, seeking refuge in the photographs that captured their joyous times together. As she thumbed through each image, tears welled up in her eyes, but there was also a bittersweet smile on her lips.
Her mind danced back to the stolen glances, the laughter shared, and the warmth of Matty’s touch. She reveled in his charming personality that could light up any room. The sweet memories flooded her senses as she recalled the comfort of his embrace and the way his laughter echoed in her ears.
In the darkness of her sorrow, she clung to the remnants of their love. She could still feel the electricity and connection they had shared, and it became a lifeline for her grieving heart. Through the pictures, she could almost grasp onto Matty’s spirit, absorbing his love and strength to carry her through the pain.
She looked at each photograph, one by one, tracing the outlines of their smiling faces with her fingertips. Each image recounted stories of their adventures, their triumphs, and their dreams. As she held onto the memories, she found solace in the fact that their love could never be taken away, even in the face of such tragedy.
With every fond look at those pictures, Matty’s girlfriend remembered the love they had shared, a love that would forever resonate within her soul. She clung to his warmth, his charm, and the profound impact he had made on her life. These memories became her sanctuary, providing a glimmer of light through the darkness of grief.
Grief and disbelief washed over the campus as news of Matty’s tragic demise spread like wildfire. The halls that once echoed with cheers and support for their athletic stars now reverberated with a somber silence. The college community grappled with overwhelming sadness, mourning the loss of a young life that had been brimming with potential.
Despite the profound sorrow, the college authorities knew that life must go on. They recognized the importance of honoring Matty’s memory while continuing to provide opportunities for their other athletes. They were committed to ensuring that Matty’s legacy would be cherished, while simultaneously taking measures to minimize the risks associated with the temple run.
The college organized a solemn memorial ceremony to pay tribute to Matty’s indomitable spirit and athletic achievements. The entire college community gathered to remember him, sharing stories of his unwavering dedication and infectious enthusiasm. A poster in his memory was erected.
Plaques and scholarships were established in his name, celebrating his impact on campus and serving as a lasting reminder of the price paid for pursuing their passions.
Their commitment to Matty’s legacy did not deter them from continuing to submit athletes for the temple run. Instead, they approached the challenge with renewed determination and vigilance. They recognized the potential rewards that awaited their athletes, while also respecting the risks involved.
Matty’s death served as a potent reminder to the college community of the fragility of life and the importance of ensuring that every student-athlete was equipped with the necessary support and training. The college vowed to remember Matty as a symbol of resilience and ambition, while endeavoring to create an environment where student-athletes could pursue their dreams while minimizing unnecessary risks.
Inside the serpentine depths of the giant snake’s stomach, the process of digestion unfolded at a slow and methodical pace. It would take a full 14 days for the snake’s powerful enzymes and acidic environment to fully break down Matty’s remains. With each passing day, the snake’s digestive system would continue its relentless work, liquefying his flesh, bones, and organs, converting them into nutrients vital for the serpent’s sustenance and growth.
However, not everything within Matty’s body would succumb to the snake’s digestive processes. As the snake navigated the dark corners of its stomach, it encountered certain parts of Matty’s being that resisted complete dissolution. The indigestible remnants included Matty’s spandex wrestling singlet, now stained with the digestive juices, clinging to existence within the belly of the beast. The vibrant color of the singlet now tarnished, they formed twisted and contorted shapes, mirroring the fate that had befallen their owner.
Alongside the singlet, the snake regurgitated Matty’s wrestling boots, the once sturdy footwear now worn and marred by the acidic environment. The rubber soles showed signs of deterioration, and the laces, once tightly knotted, now hung loosely as if mourning their previous purpose. The metallic fillings Matty had once adorned in his teeth also emerged from the snake’s maw, clinking against each other with an eerie resonance.
Accompanying the regurgitated remnants, strands of Matty’s hair, now partially digested, clung to the wrestling attire and metal fillings. These remnants of his physical self, once a part of his vibrant image, now lay discarded and discarded within the dark expanse of the temple. An eerie silence hung heavy, casting a pall over the desolate surroundings, as these forlorn remains became yet another testament to the horrific fate that had befallen him.
In the absence of light, the regurgitated artifacts, comprising all that was left of Matty, laid scattered amidst the shadows of the temple. A solemn reminder of his untimely demise, they became a macabre tapestry woven within the darkness. Here, the remnants would remain, untouched and untouched by time, their presence bearing witness to the gory reality that lingered within the serpentine confines of the temple.
As I sat in my office, surrounded by the familiar walls and the scent of coffee lingering in the air, I found myself engrossed in the daily humdrum of tasks. The gentle chime of an incoming email disrupted the monotony, drawing my attention to the screen before me. It was an email from my editor, and a surge of anticipation coursed through my veins.
As I opened the email, my eyes scanned the contents and discovered an unexpected assignment. My editor wanted me to head to Iowa, where Iowa State and Oklahoma State were scheduled for a wrestling showdown. The excitement bubbled up within me. The world of sports had always fascinated me, and the opportunity to cover a high-profile wrestling match brought a surge of energy and curiosity.
The email continued, and my excitement deepened as I read that my editor had a specific interview in mind. He wanted me to speak with Victor Voinovich, a wrestler from Oklahoma State who had recently been chosen to represent Serbia at the next Olympics. The assignment wasn’t limited to the wrestling event alone; I had the chance to uncover the story behind this rising star.
Attached to the email was a photo of Victor, and my eyes were immediately drawn to his image. He appeared to be a blonde-haired wrestler with a rugged look that spoke of determination and resilience. His athletic body boasted a powerful build, and I couldn’t help but take note of his well-defined legs. It was a snapshot of a real-life athlete, a glimpse into the world I was about to enter.
Without hesitation, I jumped to my feet, grabbing my bag and making quick preparations for the assignment. My camera, notebook, and a stack of pens joined the essentials in my bag. I checked the batteries on my voice recorder, ensuring that I wouldn’t miss a single word during the interview.
As I zipped up my bag, I couldn’t help the surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins. The allure of the upcoming assignment, the chance to delve into the life and experiences of Victor Voinovich and potential to kill the rising star, fueled my excitement. With my gear and notes in place, I stepped out of my office, ready to embark on an adventure that promised intrigue, athleticism, and a story waiting to unfold.
Victor Voinovich, at the age of 18, emerged as a promising wrestler with a unique background. Coming from a mixed family, his American mother and Serbian father gifted him with a vibrant cultural heritage that shaped his worldview. Victor embodied the fusion of these influences, exhibiting a remarkable blend of strength, determination, and a tenacious spirit.
From an early age, Victor displayed immense potential in the world of wrestling. His tireless efforts on the mat garnered attention, as coaches and fellow athletes recognized his natural talent and unwavering commitment to the sport. Earmarked as a rising star, Victor became the embodiment of the phrase “a force to be reckoned with.”
Despite his relatively shorter stature, Victor possessed a fantastically toned body that belied his strength and power. With his killer set of thighs, he inflicted formidable damage upon his opponents on the wrestling mat, leaving a lasting impression of his prowess and domination. This physical attribute, combined with his insatiable drive, made him an intimidating force in the wrestling arena.
Victor, often likened to a terrier, was relentless in his pursuit of victory. His unwavering focus and single-minded determination fueled his desire to win at all costs. With his eyes firmly fixed on the prize, he approached each match with an indomitable spirit that drove him towards success.
Beyond his athletic abilities, Victor was well-liked by his teammates. His affable nature, infectious enthusiasm, and willingness to support and uplift others endeared him to those around him. Victor’s humility in his achievements and his willingness to be a team player created a harmonious environment within the wrestling unit.
Victor’s journey was further enriched by his younger brother, who shared his passion for wrestling. Together, they formed a dynamic duo, pushing each other to greater heights and forging a bond strengthened by their shared love for the sport. The Voinovich brothers became an indomitable force, inspiring each other to surpass their limits.
Outside of wrestling and training, Victor was also an adventurer with a deep love for the outdoors. Whenever he had a spare moment, he would immerse himself in nature’s embrace, seeking thrills and challenges that mirrored the adrenaline he experienced on the wrestling mat.
After a grueling seven-hour drive, I had finally arrived in Iowa, ready to embark on the assignment that had propelled me across state lines. Fatigue melted away, replaced by a bubbling excitement as I prepared myself to interview the talented wrestler, Victor Voinovich. Word had already reached him about our scheduled interview, heightening the excitement on both ends.
Making my way to the wrestling center, I coincidentally arrived at the same time as the Oklahoma State bus. As I stood there, anticipation building, I watched a group of young, attractive wrestlers disembark, their strong physiques and confidence emanating from every pore. Among them, however, my eyes were drawn to the figure of Victor – small in stature, dressed in a jacket and clutching his suitcase. Though his physical presence may not have stood out, there was an unmistakable aura of determination, as if a silent intensity simmered within him.
Our interview loomed on the horizon, and I couldn’t help but match Victor’s excitement. It was clear that this exchange would be more than just a conversation; it was an opportunity to delve into his journey, his ambitions, and the experiences that had shaped him into the wrestler he was today. As I approached Victor, I offered a warm smile and introduced myself, eager to begin our exchange of stories and perspectives.
As the first match ups between Iowa and Oklahoma prepared to get underway, I eagerly anticipated my interview with Victor, which had been carefully scheduled for after the matches. Taking my place in the stands, I observed the Oklahoma team as they prepared for the upcoming bouts. The air crackled with energy as wrestlers executed impressive practice moves, honing their skills and perfecting their techniques.
Amidst the intense training sessions, my attention gravitated towards Victor. I watched him glide across the mat with a sense of grace and power, his athleticism evident in every move. Each detail of his technique, from the precision of his takedowns to the fluidity of his escapes, showcased his expertise and dedication to the sport.
After a particularly impressive sequence, Victor knelt down, his coach beside him. I couldn’t help but be drawn to their interaction.
I observed intently as the coach offered feedback, his words an amalgamation of praise and pointers for improvement. Victor’s eyes glistened with a mixture of determination and respect, absorbing every morsel of guidance from his mentor.
As I admired Victor’s rugged look, I couldn’t deny the attraction that simmered within. His sweaty brow, chiseled jawline, and the intensity in his gaze awakened a sense of desire deep within me. My mind raced with thoughts of me killing the young wrestler and I found myself getting hard as the scenarios played out in my head.
While Victor caught his breath and contemplated his next move, I observed him sitting on the mat, his muscles glistening and veins pulsating with anticipation. As he patiently waited for his turn to practice, I admired his composed demeanor, a testament to his focused mindset and unwavering determination. The patience and resilience he exhibited only added to his allure, creating a captivating image that told a story of discipline and unwavering spirit.
From the stands, I witnessed the essence of Victor, an athlete deeply committed to his craft. In the moments that followed, I prepared myself for our upcoming interview, eager to unravel the layers that made him the remarkable wrestler he was.
The Iowa vs. Oklahoma wrestling matchups commenced with great anticipation and energy in the arena. As the third match on the roster, Victor’s turn was drawing nearer. The crowd roared with excitement, eagerly awaiting the clash between two formidable opponents.
With bated breath, I watched as Victor emerged from the sidelines, donning the vibrant orange singlet that proudly represented Oklahoma’s colors. The fabric stretched tightly over his athletic physique, accentuating his muscular form and highlighting his powerful legs, a testament to the countless hours of training and dedication he had poured into his craft.
As Victor stepped onto the mat, his concentration was palpable. He locked eyes with his Iowa State counterpart, a fierce determination etched into his facial expressions. It was a moment charged with intensity, as the weight of the impending match settled upon them like a prelude to battle.
The referee’s whistle pierced the air, initiating the commencement of the match. Victor wasted no time in squaring up to his opponent, their bodies poised for the grappling that was about to unfold. With skilled precision, they locked hands, their fingers interlacing as they jockeyed for position.
Their bodies intertwined, shifting and maneuvering, as the two wrestlers engaged in a dance of strength and technique. I fixed my gaze on the mat, captivated by the display of skill and determination. Victor’s movements were swift and calculated, reminiscent of a bulldog tenaciously pursuing its prey. On numerous occasions, he effortlessly brought his opponent down to the mat, showcasing his prowess and domination.
The crowd erupted into applause and cheers as the buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the match. The referee quickly moved to Victor’s side, taking his arm and raising it high in victory. The moment was electric, a culmination of months of training and dedication coming to fruition.
Overwhelmed by his triumph, Victor’s jubilation was palpable. He leaped about the mat, his face illuminated with joy and excitement. The sense of achievement radiated from him, creating an infectious energy that permeated the arena. It was a well-deserved celebration, a testament to his skill, perseverance, and the hard work that had led him to this victorious moment.
As the first day of matchups drew to a close, the scoreboard displayed a resounding victory for Oklahoma, outshining the hosts with a score of 12-4. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, celebrating the triumph of the visiting team. It was a testament to the strength and skill of the Oklahoma wrestlers, leaving the home crowd in awe of their performance.
As the arena began to empty, I swiftly made my way to the edge of the mat, eager to take up my designated position for the interview. With my notepad and pen in hand, I mentally prepared myself for the conversation that awaited me. It was a moment of anticipation, the culmination of hours spent observing and analyzing the matches, ready to delve deeper into the thoughts and experiences of the athletes.
Finding a secure spot by the edge of the mat, I ensured my equipment was set up and ready to capture every detail of the forthcoming interview. Adjusting my posture, I adopted an open and receptive stance, ready to actively engage with Victor and truly listen to his perspective as a wrestler.
As I glanced around the arena, the echoes of cheering and excitement still lingered in the air. The atmosphere was electric, resonating with a blend of celebration and anticipation for the upcoming interview. It was a moment of stillness amidst the rapid heartbeat of the wrestling event, an opportunity to connect one-on-one with the athletes and gain insight into their journey both on and off the mat.
With the events of the day fresh in my mind, I prepared myself mentally, organizing my thoughts and formulating questions that would elicit meaningful and thoughtful responses from Victor. The passion and determination evident in the matches would undoubtedly translate into an equally intriguing conversation.
As I stood there, my anticipation growing with each passing moment, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. This interview was not merely a formality; it was an opportunity to showcase the personalities and stories behind the wrestling prowess that had captivated the crowd. Thus, with a mix of enthusiasm and professionalism, I eagerly awaited the moment when I could connect with Victor and begin unraveling the layers of his journey in the world of wrestling.
After a short break, I watched as Victor emerged back into the auditorium, now dressed in an Oklahoma wrestling state track suit. The vibrant colors and logo proudly displayed his affiliation with the team. As he made his way through the crowd, I observed him pausing briefly to engage in conversations with a couple of people, acknowledging their congratulations and reveling in the accolades bestowed upon him.
His presence commanded attention as people offered words of admiration and encouragement. It was evident that he had made an impact not only on the wrestling mat but also on those who had witnessed his skill and determination throughout the matches. His modest smile and gracious demeanor spoke volumes about the character of the athlete I was about to interview.
As Victor neared our designated meeting spot, I felt a mix of excitement and anticipation rise within me. He reached out his hand, and we shook hands firmly, an exchange of respect and professionalism. The energy between us was palpable, a shared understanding of the importance of the upcoming interview.
With a confident stride, Victor took his seat, ready to delve into the conversation that would unravel the layers of his wrestling journey. His eyes gleamed with a mix of exhaustion and elation, the emotions of the matches still lingering within him. I could sense his eagerness to share his experiences and thoughts as he settled in, preparing himself mentally for the interview.
As I started the recording device, signaling the beginning of our conversation, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for the opportunity to connect with an athlete of such caliber. The admiration expressed by others reflected in my approach to the interview, as I aimed to explore not just the physicality of his performance, but also the mindset and passion that drove his success.
With my notepad in hand, I leaned forward slightly, ready to listen intently to Victor’s words, eager to decipher the stories and motivations that would unfold. The stage was set, and as our eyes met, I knew that this interview would provide a unique window into the world of a dedicated wrestler, a testament to the power of perseverance and the pursuit of excellence.
During the interview, the context became clear as Victor began sharing his upbringing and how he got involved in the world of wrestling. He spoke passionately about his humble beginnings, growing up in a small Ohio town where sports were a way of life. Victor recalled how his family, particularly his father, played a pivotal role in nurturing his love for athletics from a young age.
He explained that wrestling had always fascinated him, capturing his attention with its unique blend of physicality and strategy. Victor vividly recounted the moment when he first stepped onto the mat, the adrenaline rushing through his veins as he embraced the challenges and joys that came with the sport. Wrestling became more than a hobby for him; it became a testament to his discipline, mental fortitude, and the pursuit of greatness.
As the interview progressed, I listened intently as Victor shared his goals and long-term aims in the sport. He exuded determination and ambition, embarking on a journey to reach the highest levels of wrestling excellence. He spoke of his desire to represent his state and his country on the international stage, pushing himself to constantly improve his skills and expand his knowledge of the sport.
Victor’s long-term vision extended beyond personal goals; he expressed a genuine desire to inspire and mentor younger athletes, nurturing their passion for wrestling and helping them navigate the challenges they may face. He held a strong belief in the transformative power of the sport, acknowledging the lessons it had taught him about discipline, resilience, and the importance of setting and working towards goals.
As I absorbed Victor’s words, I couldn’t help but admire his dedication and the clarity with which he articulated his aspirations. It was evident that his journey in wrestling was fueled not only by a personal drive for success but also by a genuine love for the sport and a desire to make a positive impact on others.
As the interview progressed, the focus shifted to Victor’s remarkable achievement in being lined up to represent Serbia in the upcoming Olympics. Curiosity piqued, I asked Victor how this opportunity came about, and he revealed that his father was Serbian, a fact that had opened the door for him to recently receive dual citizenship.
Victor explained how his newly acquired Serbian citizenship had put him on the radar of the Serbian wrestling team. They had been impressed by his performances in recent tournaments and had extended an invitation for him to attend a training camp. Victor humbly acknowledged the opportunity he was given, expressing gratitude for the recognition of his skills and the chance to compete at such a prestigious level.
As our conversation delved further into Victor’s participation in the Olympics, I couldn’t help but inquire about his feelings towards this momentous occasion. With a mixture of excitement and awe, he explained that participating in the Olympics had always been a dream of his. He described it as the pinnacle of sporting achievement, an event that evoked a sense of honor, pride, and immense gratitude.
The intensity of the Olympics was evident in Victor’s voice as he expressed his unwavering determination to make the most of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He spoke of the immense privilege it would be to represent Serbia on the global stage, carrying the weight of his heritage and aspirations as he competed against the world’s best wrestlers. Victor emphasized that participating in the Olympics would be an experience that would forever remain etched in his memory, regardless of the outcome.
Inquisitively, I probed Victor further, asking how he would feel if he found himself facing an American athlete in the tournament. With a calm assurance, he underscored the importance of respect and sportsmanship, recognizing that the American wrestler would be representing his own country with pride. However, Victor made it clear that when on the mat, his mindset would be to give his utmost, leaving no room for compromise. Losing, he stated emphatically, was not an option.
As the interview drew to a close, I extended my hand to shake Victor’s, indicating that our conversation had come to an end. Expressing my gratitude for his time and openness, I assured him that I had gathered the information needed for the article. Victor reciprocated the gesture, thanking me for the opportunity to share his journey and expressing eagerness to see the final piece.
The exchange between us carried a mutual respect and appreciation. It was a moment that encapsulated the culmination of an insightful conversation, facilitating a deeper understanding of Victor’s ambitions, mindset, and unwavering commitment to the sport of wrestling.
My time in Iowa was up and I had to get back to the office to prepare for the interview I had just conducted. As I packed my case I felt disappointed and sad that the opportunity to kill Victor hadn’t presented itself to me.
My mind had been racing with thoughts and ideas of how I was going to kill him but I never got the opportunity to put it into action. My thoughts on killing Victor would have to remain as fantasies in my head that I played out over and over again.
Back in my office, I focused on the task at hand – preparing the interview for publication. I meticulously reviewed my notes, carefully transcribing the conversation, ensuring accuracy and capturing the essence of the wrestlers’ stories. Engrossed in the process, I crafted an intriguing narrative that would enthrall readers.
With the interview polished and refined, I presented it to my editor. There was a sense of nervous anticipation as I shared my work, hoping that it would meet his expectations. My editor, however, exceeded my expectations with their genuine excitement and appreciation for my efforts. A smile crept across their faces as they praised my work, acknowledging the depth of my research, insightful questions, and engaging storytelling.
As my editor gave their stamp of approval, a rush of satisfaction washed over me. The article was ready for publication, and it was a testament to my dedication and passion for wrestling journalism.
Once the article went live, the response was overwhelming. Readers devoured every word, sharing the piece across social media and flooding the comment section with praise. The article resonated with wrestling fans, capturing the essence of the sport and the personalities behind it.
To my surprise, Victor himself reached out to me. His message conveyed gratitude and genuine appreciation for the article. He expressed how it had exceeded his expectations and showcased his story in a more profound way than he had ever imagined. He acknowledged my talent as a writer, recognizing the effort and care I had put into capturing his journey and sharing it with the world.
The unexpected praise from Victor filled me with a sense of accomplishment and pride. It reaffirmed my belief in the power of storytelling and the impact of my work as a journalist. It also sparked a newfound sense of connection and respect between me and Victor, bridging the gap between interviewer and interviewee.
A few weeks had passed and I now found myself in Oklahoma. As fate would have it, I found myself on the bustling campus of a local university, taking in the vibrant energy that surrounded me.
Curiosity led me to explore the various facilities on campus, and one particular day, I decided to drop by the wrestling auditorium.
Stepping into the auditorium, a sense of anticipation filled the air. To my surprise, the room appeared empty, except for a lone figure sitting on the wrestling mat. It was Victor, one of the star wrestlers on the team. He sat cross-legged, engrossed in his own world, lost in the melody that emanated from his headphones.
It became evident that Victor had chosen to stay behind after practice, perhaps in search of solace and a chance to unwind from the demanding training sessions. The empty auditorium provided the perfect sanctuary for him to escape the outside world, where he could lose himself in the comforting embrace of his favorite music.
Yet, as I observed Victor from a distance, a dark and sinister thought began to creep into my mind. The urge to kill him, to snuff out his vibrant spirit, inexplicably rose to the surface, overwhelming any rational thought that remained. A sinister eagerness overcame me, a desire to make the unthinkable happen.
Victor made his way to the changing room, his determination evident in his brisk stride. He followed the familiar route, passing through the corridors and weaving through the bustling crowds, until he reached the changing room door. With an air of focus and anticipation, he pushed open the door and entered the room, ready to prepare for the upcoming event.
After some time had passed, Victor emerged from the auditorium, now attired in his team’s tracksuit. The vibrant colors and logo proudly displayed his allegiance. Perspiration glistened on his forehead, evidence of the intense training and preparation he had undergone. With his bag slung over his shoulder, he exuded a sense of confidence and readiness.
As the evening slowly transitioned to dusk, Victor stepped out into the near empty car park. The fading sunlight cast long shadows across the empty spaces. He navigated through the parked vehicles, his steps purposeful and determined. The cool breeze brushed against his face, providing a calming respite amidst the mounting excitement.
However, the atmosphere was about to dramatically shift. Unbeknownst to Victor, you had been observing his every move, lurking in the shadows. With a silent determination, your hand reached into your pocket, pulling out a flick knife. The gleaming blade caught the dim light, adding an ominous glint to your intent.
As Victor walked past, oblivious to your presence, you carefully emerged from your hiding place. With swift and calculated movements, you pulled his head back, exposing his vulnerable throat. The flick knife glinted once more as it made contact with his skin, slicing through flesh and causing a deep, painful wound.
Victor instinctively brought his hands to his throat, desperately trying to stem the flow of blood. Panic and fear filled his eyes as he gurgled on his own blood, struggling to form words that couldn’t escape his damaged throat. His body convulsed with the raw instinct to survive, but the flow of life slipped away, slipping through his fingers like sand.
As the knife cut through his throat, Victor experienced an intense, searing pain. The sharp sting radiated from the wound, sending waves of agony throughout his body. It was as if every nerve ending had been set ablaze, leaving him helpless and overwhelmed. Each gasp for air became a struggle, a desperate attempt to cling onto the fading thread of life.
With a soft thud, Victor fell to the ground, his body shuddering as the last remnants of vitality left him. The once vibrant and determined athlete now lay motionless, his life forcefully departing from his mortal shell. The pool of blood spread beneath him, its presence a chilling reminder of the brutality that had just unfolded.
In the final moments of his existence, Victor’s vision blurred and darkened. Through the haze, he saw your figure looming over him, a haunting presence forever etched into his fading consciousness. With his rasping breath and futile attempts to vocalize his pain, the gurgling of his own blood became an eerie soundtrack to his tragic demise. And with that, Victor’s world succumbed to eternal darkness.
As the sun dipped below the horizon and darkness enveloped the surroundings, I grabbed Victor’s bag that lay on the ground.
I then moved to my pray, the young wrestler, lay dead on the ground with a deep cut to his neck. As I leaned down, my hands slipped under his armpits, gripping firmly. With effort, I lifted him off the ground, feeling the weight of his lifeless body as I carried him towards the car.
Each step felt heavy, the gravity of the situation weighing on my mind. The cool night air seemed to carry a sense of foreboding as I dragged the young wrestler to my vehicle. Unwavering determination pushed me forward, and I managed to guide his still form, striving to be mindful of his well-being, despite his current state.
Finally reaching my car, I carefully positioned the young wrestler’s body at the edge of the open trunk. There was a profound pause as I stared at his face, now pale and motionless. Time seemed to stand still as my gaze locked with his vacant eyes, recalling the vibrant spirit that once animated them.
With a mix of sorrow, guilt, and a strange sense of duty, I leaned forward and gently placed Victor’s body inside the trunk. It was an eerie moment, witnessing the stillness that had replaced his vivaciousness.
Without dwelling on my emotions for too long, I composed myself and headed towards the driver’s seat. Starting the engine, I embarked on a journey into the night, the car’s tires gliding along the deserted roads, taking me closer to the final destination.
I parked the car with precision, cautiously pulling into a deserted area hidden deep within a secluded canyon. The narrow dirt road leading to this spot was barely discernible, engulfed by overgrown bushes and tall grass. It seemed as though nature herself had conspired to keep this place hidden from prying eyes.
As I stepped out of the car, the serenity of the canyon immediately enveloped me. The air was still and heavy with the scent of earth and ancient rock. Above me, the canyon walls rose high, their rugged edges creating a natural fortress. A blanket of silence settled around me, interrupted only by the faint rustling of leaves or the occasional distant birdcall. It was as if time had come to a standstill in this isolated haven.
With caution, I made my way to the trunk of the car, the only space that held the grotesque secret I had hidden away. Unlocking it, I felt a mix of anticipation and trepidation.
As the trunk creaked open, an eerie hush seemed to fill the air. I gazed down upon Victor’s lifeless body. His pale features and motionless form were a haunting reminder of the darkest depths within the human soul. With a steady hand and a somber resolve, I reached in and gently lifted Victor out of the trunk, cradling him against my chest.
The silence of the canyon seemed even more profound as I carefully carried his body, stepping lightly over the uneven ground. Every twig that snapped felt amplified in the stillness, reminding me of my clandestine mission. I moved swiftly, driven by a macabre sense of purpose and the desperate need to bring closure to this dark chapter.
Leading Victor away from the car, we ventured deeper into the canyon’s seclusion. The rugged terrain and towering walls acted as nature’s curtain, shielding our actions from prying eyes. It was within this eerie, yet oddly serene, place that I found solace in completing the task I had set out to accomplish.
I parked the car in a deserted area, carefully maneuvering it off the main road and into a hidden spot within the secluded canyon. The area I had chosen was surrounded by towering rock formations, their jagged edges forming a natural barrier from the outside world. The silence that enveloped the canyon was profound, broken only by the occasional echo of wind whispering through the rocky crevices.
As I laid Victor’s body on the ground, the realization of his vulnerability struck me, I stripped him down to nothing but his underwear, and admired his fine body. I took a moment and let my hands explore his tight toned body, savouring the sensation as I traced every contour on his body before caressing and squeezing his powerful legs, before taking a couple of snaps of the dead wrestler and then fucking his virgin hole.
I dressed Victor in his wrestling singlet and wrestling shoes, carefully adorning him as if preparing him for a new challenge.
I took some pictures of my latest prey and then began the process of wrestling with his dead body. I imagined we were locked in a fierce battle our bodies intertwined and erotically rubbing up against each other.
I left the canyon and drove away into the night, leaving Victor lying in his wrestling singlet to decompose.
A few days later, as I browsed the web, my eyes were drawn to a headline that immediately caught my attention. It spoke of a news story that had sent shockwaves through the wrestling world. The excitement and curiosity surged within me as I clicked on the article, eager to uncover the details.
The headline read, “Police Search for Information on Whereabouts of Missing Olympic Wrestling Prospect.” It was a gripping and alarming headline that hinted at something grave and mysterious. I smiled knowing exactly what had happened to Victor.
Accompanying the headline was a picture of Victor, striking a confident pose.
The article beseeched the public for any information that could shed light on Victor’s whereabouts. Speculations swirled, theories ranging from foul play to voluntary withdrawal from the spotlight. The wrestling community, once bustling with anticipation for Victor’s future, was now filled with worry and a desire to find answers.
I reveled in the secrecy of my knowledge as to what I’d done to victor.
In the secluded depths of the canyon, Victor’s lifeless body lay undisturbed, never to be discovered. As the relentless hands of time passed, a series of natural processes unfolded, gradually decomposing his remains, all while he remained clad in his wrestling singlet.
Initially, the decomposition process set in motion as bacteria, both from within Victor’s body and from the surrounding environment, began to break down his soft tissues. This stage, known as putrefaction, entails the release of gases and the breakdown of proteins, resulting in a foul odor emanating from the body.
As Victor’s body wore the wrestling singlet, the fabric encased his form, embracing him tightly. The singlet served as a protective layer, shielding his skin from immediate exposure to the elements. However, over time, it would also contribute to the unique ways in which decomposition unfolded.
The canyon’s environmental conditions played a significant role in the transformation of Victor’s body. With arid and dry air prevailing, the lack of moisture impeded the progress of decomposition. This caused the body to undergo a process called desiccation, where the tissues gradually dried out. As a result, the wrestling singlet became fused to Victor’s form, adhering to his skin and preserving the shape of his body.
Throughout this journey, the canyon’s wildlife played a role in the decomposition process. Insects, attracted by the scent of decay, would have sought out Victor’s body, navigating through crevices or small openings in search of sustenance. Other scavengers like Coyotes, buzzards and other carnivores scattered would have feasted on the exploded flesh especially Victor’s powerful legs and arms. Their feast in on the body would have spread some of the remains further within the canyon, contributing to the continued concealment of Victor’s body.
Months passed, and the relentless rays of the sun beat down upon the hidden canyon. The intense heat accelerated the mummification process, where the body’s fluids continued to evaporate, leaving behind withered skin and shriveled muscles. The wrestling singlet, being in close contact with Victor’s body, became tightly contoured to his skeletal remains, as if frozen in time.
As seasons changed, the canyon found temporary respite from the relentless heat, as cooler temperatures prevailed. The fluctuating climate introduced cycles of freezing and thawing, causing the body to alternate between preservation and decay. The wrestling singlet, subject to the same environmental fluctuations, would also undergo similar processes, gradually deteriorating alongside Victor’s remains.
As years turned into decades, the remnants of Victor’s body became increasingly fragile. The once vibrant wrestling singlet, firmly attached to his skeletal structure, would gradually deteriorate, succumbing to the forces of time, weathering, and exposure. The canyon’s harsh elements, including wind, rain, and temperature fluctuations, contributed to the gradual decomposition of the fabric, reducing it to mere tattered shreds clinging to Victor’s skeletal remains.
In this hidden abyss, nature worked its patience and resilience, seamlessly incorporating Victor’s body and his wrestling singlet into the very fabric of the canyon. Eventually, little evidence may have remained, with time and the elements erasing the traces of his existence, leaving only whispers and memories behind.
For weeks I had been trying to battle myself and the urge to take another life. Killing Mason had been amazing and being around wrestlers had made the urge stir and want to come to the front.
Then one morning I woke and decided that to fight the urge was no use. I felt the best I had ever felt when I killed Mason and now, I knew I could feel like that permanently. I knew I was born to kill, and it was time to unleash the beast.
I already had my next target in mind and now prepared to take his life.
He was a freshmen at the college I had just been at. A handsome young wrestler with a slim toned build whom I had overheard discussing his love of golf. Golf courses were huge and there was a lot of spots to snatch attack and make my move, so I began to prepare for my next kill.
Gavyn was an extraordinary 18-year-old college freshman. With a towering build and an unwavering tenacity, Gavyn had wrestled his way through high school, leaving an indomitable mark on his opponents and capturing the hearts of wrestling enthusiasts.
Now, embarking on a new chapter of his life, Gavyn was ready to tackle the challenges that college had to offer. Little did he know, he would soon discover that life held more than just championship belts and takedowns.
Before bidding farewell to his small hometown, Gavyn’s popularity reached new heights during his senior year of high school. With his charismatic nature and exceptional athletic skills, he found himself honored with the title of Homecoming King at the prom. The crown sat atop his head as a testament to his immense popularity amongst his peers. And amidst the cheers and applause, Gavyn found solace in the arms of his girlfriend, Kenzie. Their love story had blossomed on the sidelines of wrestling matches, with Kenzie cheering him on and offering unwavering support. Their bond was unbreakable, their love strong enough to endure any distance.
Beyond the wrestling mat, Gavyn was known for his vibrant personality and dedication as a loyal friend. His sense of humor was contagious, leaving everyone in stitches with his goofy antics. Whether it was pulling pranks on his buddies or lightening the mood during intense moments, Gavyn’s laughter filled the air and brought joy to those around him. Adored by his family, he was the centerpiece of their lives, always enhancing their bonds with his radiant presence and infectious smile.
While wrestling was his passion, Gavyn harbored a surprising affinity for a sport seemingly opposite to it – golf. When he wasn’t on the wrestling mat, he could be found meticulously analyzing golf swings and perfecting his own technique. The solitude provided by the golf course allowed Gavyn to escape the rigors of his intense athletic pursuit. It was a sacred escape, a tranquil sanctuary where he could temporarily set aside his wrestling persona and immerse himself in the beauty of the fairways.
As Gavyn ventured into the uncharted waters of college, he carried with him an amalgamation of experiences, an unyielding spirit, and an insatiable hunger for success. Wrestling may have defined him throughout his high school years, but now, he was ready to explore new passions and embrace the depths of his potential. And as the pages of his story unfolded, Gavyn’s journey would be marked by an unexpected encounter that would make him a household name.
I’d spent a few days studying Gavyn, his movements and what he liked doing. I’d followed him to the golf course and prepared to make my move on him somewhere on the green.
The first thing I did when I arrived at the golf course was head to Gavyn’s old sedan car and pop the trunk of his car. After a quick rummage I grabbed the bag that contained his wrestling gear and put it in my car.
I then watched as Gavyn hung about with some friends and heard him tell them that he would play eight holes with them and then when they had finished, he would do the remaining eight hole by himself.
I watched as Gavyn, with his mischievous grin, was surrounded by a group of friends, their laughter echoing through the air. It was a scene straight out of a feel-good movie.
As I watched, Gavyn pulled his hoodie over his head, transforming himself into a comical character. His friends erupted into fits of laughter; their genuine joy contagious. With a twinkle in his eyes and mischief brewing in his heart, Gavyn seized a golf club and casually draped it around his shoulders, creating a whimsical image. It was as if the golf club magically blended with his carefree spirit, like an extension of his persona.
With the club resting effortlessly, Gavyn strutted about, parading his silliness. He playfully swung the club, pretending to hit imaginary golf balls. His friends, utterly enthralled by his antics, doubled over with laughter, clutching their sides in amusement. The golf club became a prop in his silly performance, a testament to his ability to find humor and entertainment in the simplest of things.
In that moment, I understood why Gavyn was such a magnet for positivity. His infectious energy and ability to find joy in everyday moments made him a beacon of light, drawing people towards him like moths to a flame.
As I reflected on Gavyn’s goofy display, I couldn’t help but admire the rare quality he possessed. In a world that often takes itself too seriously, Gavyn was a refreshing reminder to embrace the childlike wonder within us all. His ability to effortlessly let loose and be himself was a trait that endeared him to all who knew him if only for the short while he had left in the world.
I observed Gavyn and his friends setting out for a round of golf. Their camaraderie was palpable as they shared jokes and friendly banter, their bond evident in their easy laughter and genuine affection for one another.
As they reached the fourth hole, a picturesque spot with a breathtaking view, Gavyn’s infectious energy took hold once again. Midway through his swing, he suddenly halted, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Draping his arm around his friend’s shoulder, Gavyn struck a pose, preserving the moment in a photograph. With a beaming smile, he held a golf club, its sleek shape complementing his vibrant personality.
The click of the camera captured the essence of their friendship, freezing the genuine camaraderie and shared experiences in a single frame. It was a picture that would forever remind them of this moment, the joyous laughter, and the memories made on the golf course.
As they resumed their game, Gavyn’s infectious spirit continued to infuse the air. His swings were a harmonious blend of focus and playfulness, as if he danced with the club in sync with his soul. Even during serious rounds, his ability to find joy in the sport radiated through his every move.
As the group reached the eighth hole, the competitive spirit in Gavyn seemed to ignite. With a twinkle in his eye, he playfully turned towards his friends, a mischievous smirk adorning his face. In a jovial tone, he teased them, suggesting that maybe they should all practice a bit more, considering how he had just whooped their arses on the previous holes.
Laughter erupted from his friends, their mirth filling the air and intermingling with the sounds of nature. They playfully bantered back, retorting with humorous jabs of their own. It was a moment of friendly competition, where victory and defeat were embraced as mere elements of the game.
Gavyn, the natural entertainer that he was, reveled in the joyous chaos he had created. With a good-natured chuckle, he soaked in the vibrant energy, basking in the light-heartedness of the moment. It was as if time stood still, offering a glimpse into the everlasting bond these friends shared.
But as the laughter subsided, a brief pause followed. Gavyn remained standing alone, a thoughtful expression replacing his playful demeanor. The friends, sensing his need for solitude, fondly bid their goodbyes, leaving Gavyn to his own thoughts.
Alone on that peaceful green, Gavyn stood in silence, his eyes scanning the rolling landscape. He relished in the stillness, the serenity that enveloped him. It was during these solitary moments that his passion for golf truly came alive. With each swing of the club, he found solace—a moment of contemplation and self-reflection.
Although separated from his friends, Gavyn was content with his own company. The tranquil ambiance of the golf course became his companion, whispering secrets of patience and resilience. In this moment of separation, he could recharge his spirit, allowing his passion for the sport to grow deeper and intertwine with the fabric of his being.
And so, as the friends departed, leaving Gavyn to revel in the silence of the 8th hole, he cherished the solitude. It was a chance for him to connect with the game he loved, to tap into his own inner strength, and to reflect upon the memories they had forged together. However, Gavyn didn’t realize he was not alone and I was watching his every move waiting for the moment to strike.
As Gavyn reached the 12th hole, a sense of serenity seemed to envelop him. The once playful atmosphere now transformed into a calm and focused energy. With utmost determination, he stepped up to the tee, placing a ball delicately upon the grass.
Taking a deep breath, Gavyn aligned himself with the target, his muscles tense with anticipation. The cool breeze whispered through the trees, adding a touch of tranquility to the scene. The soft thud of the golf club meeting the ball echoed across the course as Gavyn struck it with precision.
The ball soared through the air, gracefully gliding across the green expanse. Gavyn followed its trajectory with unwavering concentration, his eyes fixed upon the tiny white dot as it descended towards the ground. It landed with a gentle bounce, closer to the intended target than he had hoped.
As each ball effortlessly soared through the air, a sense of accomplishment and fulfillment swept over Gavyn’s face. Regardless of whether the shots were perfect or not, the sheer act of swinging his club and witnessing the flight of the ball brought him unparalleled joy.
As Gavyn looked out over the green, he had no idea I had grabbed a golf club and was now sneaking up behind him and brought the golf club crashing down on the back of his head. Gavyn let out an “oomph” as he fell to the floor as I continued to rain blows down on his head with the golf club. Blood splattered up after each blow and soon enough Gavyn lay lifeless on the floor, a pool of blood now forming around his head.
I knew I couldn’t leave Gavyn’s body out in the open and dragged him into the undergrowth before hiding his golf clubs and bringing the car near to the fence where I had hid Gavyn’s body. I then dragged the dead wrestler to my car and placed his body in the trunk.
I drove a couple of hundred miles until I reached the desert and pulled off down a dirt road. In this private and secluded spot, I removed Gavyn’s body from the trunk and undressed him down to his underwear.
I then took the bag I grabbed from Gavyn’s car and took out his wrestling gear. I then dressed my latest victim in his singlet and began to playfully wrestle his body before taking some shots of my latest victim and leaving him to decompose in the desert.
Killing and snuffing the lives out of attractive wrestlers was invigorating and turned me on. This was what I lived for now and looked forward to the next.
It wasn’t until four weeks later that Gavyn’s skeletal remains were found in the desert.
Wyatt was a college wrestler with a mastery in both physical and mental strength. He stood at an imposing height with broad shoulders, biceps that bulge when he flexes, and abs that are as chiseled as they come. With piercing eyes and a strong jawline, Wyatt exudes confidence and charm and attracts people to him like a magnet.
As the eldest child in a family of three, Wyatt has always had a natural inclination towards leadership and responsibility. He has two younger sisters, who he loves and protects fiercely. Growing up, he made sure they were always safe and looked out for them, even if it meant sometimes sacrificing something he cared about. Wyatt also has a protective nature, not just for his family, but for anyone he cares about
Nobody was more important to Wyatt than his high school sweetheart, Madison. They had been together since freshman year, and two years later, became inseparable. He was devoted to her, putting her first above all else, and even with the temptations of college life, and girls, he remained committed and genuine.
Wyatt, his sisters, and his girlfriend Madison were all excited to see their favorite band, and they were all packed into the car heading down a winding rural road to the concert venue, singing their lungs out to their favorite tunes. Suddenly, the car hit a pothole, and the engine started making strange noises. After some trying, the car couldn’t move any further and stopped on the road.
When the four of them tried their cell phones, they found out that they were in a dead zone, and there was no signal whatsoever. They knew they seemed paralyzed, and their expressions quickly turned to worry and panic. After putting their heads together, they realized that the only option they had to seek help was to walk back the five miles to the gas station, which was their last stop, to ask for assistance and to call for help.
Wyatt was always protective of his sisters and, of course, Madison. He suggested that he would head back to the gas station to ask for assistance and some help and told his sisters and girlfriend Madison, firmly but kindly, to stay with the car, no matter what. He would come back for them. He knew it would take time for him to come back, and he didn’t want them to be alone on that road. He hugged them and gave Madison a warm embrace, telling them that they would be fine. His words of reassurance brought their nerves down, and they waited for Wyatt to come back as they couldn’t see any other way out of that mystery.
Simon was driving down the road when he noticed an immobile car parked on the side of the road, and as he pulled closer, his heart sank as he saw there were female occupants inside the car. He couldn’t help but feel disappointed as he wished they were college jocks instead.
Simon was known for his love for the thrill of hunting and killing jocks who fit into his idea of a perfect athlete. He had viewed them as cocky, arrogant, and undeserving of their status in society. For Simon, hunting jocks was a way of seeking revenge on those who had wronged him in the past. The thought of getting his hands on more jocks fueled his obsession, and he prayed that the occupants of the stalled car would be just the kind of people he was looking for.
However, as he slowed down as he approached the car, he noticed that the women were scared and crying and instead drove past them without offering help.
Wyatt had been walking alone down the deserted road for over half an hour, tired and thirsty. He was starting to lose hope of anyone stopping to give him a lift when he suddenly saw a van approaching in the distance. Quickly, he turned and stuck out his thumb, hoping that the driver would take pity on him and slow down.
Simon was driving the van that Wyatt had flagged down, and he saw the athletic young man and instantly guessed that he was with the group of girls he had passed earlier. Simon’s interest was piqued when he noticed the fit, muscular build of the young man and wondered if he could be the perfect target for his twisted desires.
As Simon passed Wyatt, he saw his athletic physique and perfectly sculpted muscles, and he knew that he had found his next victim. Simon then failed to control his urge and stopped his van, knowing instantly that the young man was a jock, which just added fuel to his desire.
As Wyatt saw the car come to a stop, he felt relieved as he jogged up to the passenger side and told the driver that he had car trouble further up the road and needed a lift to the nearby garage. Wyatt felt safe as he climbed into the van, but Simon eyed him up and down before offering him a lift. For a brief moment, Wyatt had a sense of unease, but he ignored it, hoping that he was safe in the stranger’s van.
As Wyatt climbed into the van, he felt a sense of relief that he would finally have a lift. He thanked Simon for stopping and breathed a sigh of relief. However, his relief turned to disappointment when he picked up a bottle of water from the center console and found it empty.
Simon noticed Wyatt’s disappointment and offered him a drink. Wyatt was thirsty and gladly accepted the offer. Simon climbed into the back of the van seemingly to get the water.
Suddenly, Simon turned and said, “You’re a pretty fit guy, aren’t you?”
Wyatt was taken aback by the compliment but managed to respond with a polite “Thank you”.
Simon continued, “I mean, I can tell you’re into sports. You play anything?”
Wyatt decides to brag a little and responds, “Yeah, I’m a wrestler. I’ve been wrestling since I was a kid, and I’m pretty good at it if I say so myself.”
Simon seemed impressed by this and leaned back in his seat. “Wow, that’s really cool. You must have won a few competitions then, huh?”
Wyatt smiled, feeling proud of his achievements. “Yeah, I’ve won a few tournaments and placed in a few others. It takes a lot of hard work and dedication, but it’s worth it.”
Simon nodded, seeming interested in the conversation. “I admire people who are passionate about what they do. It takes a lot of discipline to succeed in any sport.”
Wyatt nodded, feeling more at ease now that he had found a common ground with his host. Despite this, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He decided to let his guard down and continue chatting with Simon about sports, oblivious to the danger lurking ahead.
Simon’s demeanor changed suddenly upon hearing this. With a cold, calculating look in his eyes, he grabbed a ligature from the back of the van and flung it around Wyatt’s neck. Wyatt tried to fight back, but Simon was much stronger. He gasped desperately for breath, his mind racing with fear.
As Simon’s grip tightened around his neck, Wyatt’s mind became a muddled blur of fear and confusion. Panic set in as he tried to fight back, but Simon was too strong, and his attempts were futile. Wyatt could feel himself losing air with each passing second, and his thoughts were consumed by the frightening realization that he was being strangled to death.
Images of his life began to flash before his eyes, and he regretted not being more vigilant and cautious than jumping in the van. He wished he could turn back time and avoid climbing into the van altogether. His heart ached as he realized he would never see his family or girlfriend again, and he became consumed with a deep sense of regret.
As his vision blurred and his body weakened, Wyatt’s mind raced to process everything that was happening. He tried to reason with himself, hoping that this was all just a nightmare, and he would wake up soon. He made a desperate attempt to cling to life, but it was no use, and he felt himself slipping away, inch by inch.
Despite his struggle, Wyatt was slowly losing consciousness. He tried to pry Simon’s hands away from his neck, but it was no use. The world began to fade away as he lost more and more air. He felt his eyes roll back, losing all control as he died in the back of the van.
Simon then dragged Wyatt into the back of the van and looked at his latest kill. It was a gruesome sight, the young wrestlers lifeless body slumped in the back of the van, his face frozen in an eternal expression of anguish. Simon wasted no time in rolling the body over and stripping it off its clothing, savoring the thrill of the forbidden as his hands caressed the young jock’s fine frame. He marveled at the smoothness of his skin, the firmness of his muscles, and the sheer perfection of his body.
Simon’s mind was consumed with a macabre desire to explore the dead jock’s body, to feel its warmth and savagely indulge in his most primal urges. He knew it was wrong, but he was powerless to resist the gnawing hunger that gripped him. He allowed himself to explore and fondle the corpse, delighting in the softness of the skin and the tautness of the muscles.
Finally, Simon gave in to his darkest desires and fucked Wyatt’s body enjoying every second he had with the straight alpha’s body.
Simon knew that he had to dispose of Wyatt’s body. As he drove down the deserted roads, his mind raced hoping he wouldn’t be caught . He could not shake off the images of Wyatt’s lifeless body in the back of his van, the smell of death suffocating him with every breath. He drove for hours, swerving down the winding roads, his eyes darting over every cop car, every pedestrian, anticipating a final confrontation with the police.
Eventually, Simon found himself in the midst of rows of cornfields that stretched on for miles. It was the perfect place to dispose of Wyatt’s body, far away from prying eyes and judgmental stares. He pulled over to the side of the road, rolled down the window, and gazed out at the endless expanse of green. The wind rustled through the fields, whispering its approval.
Simon dragged Wyatt’s body out of the back of the van, still clad only in his underwear, his lifeless form heavy in his arms. He stumbled through the cornstalks, his nerves on edge, his heart pounding in his chest. After what seemed like an eternity, he found a clearing deep within the forest of corn, shielded from the world by the tall stalks. He gently lowered Wyatt’s body onto the ground and took a few steps back, his eyes lingering on the hot alpha’s body for a moment before turning away and leaving his latest victim to the elements and scavengers.
Unaware his sisters and girlfriend still awaited his return.
Simon returned to his van and drove off into the night.
Simon was sitting at his kitchen table, drinking his morning coffee, when he picked up the newspaper. As he flipped through the pages, an article caught his eye. The headline read, “Body of Missing Wrestler Found Eight Weeks After Disappearance.” His heart sank as he read on, and his hands began to shake.
The article detailed how the police had discovered a badly decomposed body in a rural cornfield, eight weeks after Wyatt Lindberg had been reported missing. It went on to explain that forensic testing had confirmed the remains to be that of the missing wrestler.
He quickly finished his coffee, got dressed, and left the house, content with taking the life of another victim.
The disappearance of Wyatt Lindberg was a painful and confusing time for his family and his girlfriend Madison. They were deeply concerned for his safety and well-being and searched frantically for any trace of him. As the days turned into weeks, they held on to the hope that he would return safely home.
However, their worst fears were realized when the police announced that they had found Wyatt’s badly decomposed body. The news was devastating for his family and girlfriend, who were left to pick up the pieces of their shattered lives.
Wyatt’s family and girlfriend were consumed by grief and struggled to come to terms with their loss. They leaned on each other for support and found comfort in sharing memories of their beloved son, brother, and boyfriend.
Wyatt’s girlfriend, in particular, was inconsolable at first, feeling as though a part of her had died with him. The thought of never seeing him smile or hearing him laugh again was almost too much to bear. She blamed herself for not going with him when he went for help after the car broke down.
As someone who finds college wrestlers sexy, I have spent a lot of time trying to understand what it is that draws me to them. At first glance, it might seem like a strange fascination. After all, why would someone be turned on by a group of young men dressed in wrestling singlets?
To me, the answer is fairly simple: it’s all about the physicality. There is something incredibly attractive about a man who is able to take control of his body and use it to compete in a physical sport. College wrestlers are some of the most impressive physical specimens you will ever see – their muscles are toned and defined, their bodies lean and powerful. The way they move and contort during a match is mesmerizing to watch.
But there is something else about college wrestlers that is deeply attractive to me – their confidence. Wrestling is a sport that requires a lot of self-assuredness and belief in oneself. A wrestler needs to know that his body is capable of taking on another human being in a physical battle. When I see a wrestler step onto the mat, I am impressed not just by his physical appearance, but by the boldness that he embodies.
Of course, it doesn’t hurt that wrestlers often wear singlets that cling tight to their bodies, accentuating every curve and muscle. It’s hard not to be drawn in by the sight of a wrestler’s chiseled abs, or the way his biceps bulge as he grapples with his opponent. But ultimately, what makes college wrestlers sexy to me is the combination of physical prowess and unshakable confidence that they bring to the mat.
As someone who has been around college wrestlers for a while, I have noticed that some of them could come across as incredibly cocky. Maybe it was because they were in such great shape, or because they were so good at what they did, but there’s definitely a certain level of arrogance that can be hard to ignore. Of course, not all wrestlers were like this, and I have come across many who are humble and respectful. But some of them do seem to think that they’re invincible and I so wished to teach them a lesson at times.
Growing up, I always admired wrestlers from afar, but I never dared to get too close. I was afraid that if I ever participated, my attraction towards my opponents would be revealed. Instead, I found my passion in writing and became a skilled journalist who covered wrestling. It’s been an incredible journey, and I have gained a lot of respect among wrestlers and their fans nationwide. I love interviewing wrestlers, profiling college wrestlers and learning about their training routines, and getting an inside scoop on their matches. My job also allowed me to be around the object of my desires, but it did come at a cost.
I have always wanted to hurt and have my wicked way with wrestlers, and I can’t count the number of times I just wanted to strangle one of the cocky jocks to death as I was interviewing them. I had managed to surprise my feelings for so long, so long all until that eventful day where my fantasies became a reality and since then I have to admit I have felt alive and awoken a dark beast inside of me.
I hadn’t realized everything before, but I was in a perfect position to ensure I lived out my darkest fantasies and played that fateful day over and over in my head.
I was ecstatic when my editor assigned me to interview one of the top wrestlers at Kent State University. As a sports journalist, I always took pride in covering college wrestlers and their stories, and this was a real opportunity to dig deeper and learn more about what it takes to become a top wrestler. I had been following this particular athlete’s career and knew that he had recently won a national wrestling championship, which made the prospect of interviewing him even more exciting.
When I arrived at Kent State’s sports center, I went to the wrestling office to confirm the interview and was surprised to find that the wrestler in question was no longer on the team. The coach informed me that the athlete had been dismissed from the team after pulling a prank that resulted in property damage. I was disheartened and frustrated that my interview had fallen through, especially since I had been preparing for it for weeks.
However, the coach suggested that I interview another wrestler from the team to make up for the lost interview. He mentioned a wrestler who had made a remarkable recovery after a significant injury and had recently returned to the mat, but I politely declined and told him I would watch their next match ups and chose someone myself.
As I sat in the stands and watched the next wrestling matches at the university, my eyes were glued to the athletes on the mat. As a sports journalist, I was always on the lookout for new talent and inspiring stories to share with my readers. And then I saw him.
Mason was a 19-year-old wrestler from Kent State University, and he was a machine on the mat. He moved with agility and power, taking down his opponents with confidence and ease. I was immediately impressed by his skills and watched him carefully throughout the match, trying to catch any sign of weakness or vulnerability.
But Mason was a force to be reckoned with. He moved with grace and precision, dominating his opponents and demonstrating a true mastery of the sport. As the match came to an end, I knew I had to talk to him. Mason was the kind of athlete that other top universities were reportedly sniffing around, and I was thrilled to catch him at such an exciting time in his career.
After the match, I approached Mason with trepidation, unsure of how he would react to my request for an interview. But he was incredibly gracious and agreed to speak with me about his background, his training, and his ambitions in the world of wrestling. The interview was a huge success, and I was grateful for the opportunity to speak with such an inspiring young athlete. Mason was truly a talent to watch, and I couldn’t wait to share his story with my audience.
After the matches, I made my way down to the locker room where the athletes were winding down after the physically exhausting athletic display. The lights were dimmed, and everyone was exhausted and reflective after the night’s entertainment, but when I spotted Mason, I knew I had to approach him. As a journalist, I knew that this was my opportunity to capture the story of a future star; an athlete with the chance to make his mark in wrestling history.
I introduced myself, and to my surprise, Mason knew exactly who I was. He was frankly thrilled about the prospect of being interviewed, and I needed no introduction. I quickly informed him of my intentions for the interview and my plans to showcase his story to the wrestling world, highlighting his journey and accomplishments, making the experience as meaningful as possible. He was excited about the opportunity to tell his story and eager to share his insights and perspectives with an audience that respected hard-working student-athletes such as himself.
We agreed to meet the next day at my motel for the interview. Mason seemed very obliging, and I could sense his excitement for the opportunity to share his story with my audience.
Mason arrived at my motel exactly at noon, just as we had arranged. As soon as I opened the door to let him in, I couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked. His tall, muscular frame filled the doorway, and my heart raced at the sight of him. As a professional, I knew that I had to keep my physical attraction under control, but it was easier said than done.
As we sat down to conduct the interview, I struggled to focus on the task at hand. Mason was intelligent and charismatic, and I found myself drawn to him both intellectually and physically. I tried to keep my urges in check and stay professional, but it wasn’t easy. I couldn’t stop my thoughts from wandering, and I found myself imagining all sorts of things that I knew I shouldn’t.
Despite my internal struggle, I focused my attention on Mason’s story. He talked about his childhood, his parents’ support, and how he got into wrestling. He spoke of the challenges he faced when deciding to pursue wrestling and how he had to balance his academic and athletic commitments while still maintaining a social life. Throughout the conversation, I couldn’t help but admire his strength of character, and his determination to overcome the obstacles that had come his way.
I was also curious to learn about his ultimate goals and aspirations. Mason talked passionately about his dream to become a professional wrestler and his desire to represent the University on the national stage. I found myself agreeing with him and rooting for him to succeed. At one point in the interview, I asked him if he planned on staying at Kent State, to which he replied that he had long-term plans to establish his legacy at the university before he moved on to other things. His dedication to the university, his sport, and his ambitions further endeared him to me.
I sat across from Mason, silently marveling at his intelligence and his dedication to his sport. The interview was going smoothly, and my heart swelled with pride at the thought of sharing his story with the world.
But then my phone buzzed in my pocket, interrupting our conversation. I glanced at the screen, and my heart sank as I read the message from my editor. The originally featured wrestler had been kicked off the course. The story was now dead. The interview was no longer of interest to the publication.
I struggled to keep my emotions in check. I had no intention of killing Mason, but at that moment, everything changed. I had the wrestler in my hotel room, and no one knew he was there. The realization dawned on me that this was going to be my last chance to do something meaningful with the moment and give him the publicity he deserved. Suddenly, a wave of madness crashed over me, and I quickly flung a ligature around Mason’s neck and strangled him.
Mason’s eyes opened wide in shock.
“What the fuck are you doing?” The young wrestler managed to exclaim as I tightened my grip on the ligature, and he instinctively brought his hands up to try and pull my grip away.
“This is nothing personal Mason, just you happened to be the wrestler that drove me to my first kill.” I snarled as I looked him directly in the eyes.
Mason’s whimpering stops instantly as his air is cut off. His bloodshot eyes widen in fear–he finally understands that he’s going to die.
“Please stop. Please I don’t want to die.” Mason begged as he fought back, his twisting and turning as if was wrestling so he could try and throw me off.
Now I have to hold him tightly for a bit while I ride out his panicked thrashing. Mason bucked and thrashed about as if he was in a championship wrestling match.
I watched as Mason’s eyes started to bulge, changing to a deeper shade of red as pinpoint hemorrhages burst deep in the whites. The tears leaking from the corners ran across his face to blend with the snot oozing from his nose.
God, it felt good killing Mason as he writhed in terror and pain. His face is contorted into a rictus of agony, white froth erupting from the corners of his mouth, squeezing out past his purple, protruding tongue, as he shook his head wildly from side to side, still futilely seeking escape from the crushing pain in his neck and chest. I wonder if Mason knew by now that there was to be no escape; this will only end in his death, but the physical demands override logic. He has to fight; he can’t help it. And every moment of his struggle continued to turn me on.
As the life drained from his eyes, I felt a sense of relief washed over me. As I looked at the lifeless body sprawled on the chair next to me, I felt a sudden pang of remorse and regret. What had I done? I had taken an innocent life, all for the sake of my own twisted fantasies.
I sat next to Mason’s lifeless body, feeling sick to my stomach, trying to come to terms with what I’ve just done. I stared at his corpse, touching his lifeless body, and I realized that this is what I have been waiting for my whole life. I had always dreamed of killing a wrestler. It was an uncontrollable urge that had driven my every thought for years, and now, it had become a reality.
Mason’s frantic fight for his life had turned me on in a way I couldn’t explain. His desperate attempts to break my grip made my heart race, and I had felt a surge of adrenaline that I’d never experienced before. In an instant, I knew that this was what I had been waiting for.
I stripped him down to his underwear, before I touched and caressed his athletic body, feeling his firm muscles and his toned abs, taking in everything that made him the perfect specimen of an athlete. I felt a sense of joy and excitement, relishing the moment of having his body to myself, as I now indulged in my fantasies and fucked the young wrestler.
I searched Mason’s bag, and found his singlet, and it hit me that he was scheduled to attend a wrestling practice that afternoon. I imagined the thrill he must have had when he was packing it, the excitement of a new practice in his future. It was his passion, and it showed me how driven and dedicated he was.
I dressed him in his skin-tight singlet and couldn’t believe how sexy he looked firsthand. His muscular body was on full display, and I couldn’t help but admire every inch of him. He was perfect in every sense of the word. It was everything I had ever wanted and more, and as I looked down at him, I felt a sense of lust and pleasure wash over me.
I took some pictures of Mason’s body, and I played around with him as if he were alive. Imagining he was putting up a great fight before I pinned him down and counted to three. His muscles bulged and tensed, but I was stronger, and in the end, I had conquered him. The illusion of our wrestling match allowed me to indulge in an erotic dream, and the feeling was intoxicating.
As I collapsed on top of his lifeless body, I knew that my actions could never be undone, and my fate was sealed. I would never be the same person I was before this. I had taken Mason’s life and satisfied my twisted fantasies, and for me, there would be no going back. This was something I loved, and now more wrestlers were going to die and with my job I could scout for suitable victims well in advance.
For a moment, it felt like the world had opened up to me; I had all the power, and there was nothing stopping me. But as reality set in and I realized what I had done, a sense of fear and uncertainty crept in as I wondered if I would get caught.
My thoughts turned to disposing of Mason’s body, and I realized that I needed to do this quickly, before anyone became suspicious of his disappearance. I took his car keys and pressed the key fob to ensure that I knew which car belonged to him.
As night fell, I made my way to Mason’s car, and opened the trunk. His lifeless body was still clad in his sexy singlet, and I take a moment to admire how good-looking he still appeared, even in death. I then lifted him gently and placed him in the trunk of his car.
I jumped behind the wheel, and I drove for a few hours, stopping by a remote swamp. I opened the trunk and dragged Mason’s body that was still wearing the singlet that I found so appealing out. With no one around to see me, I rolled his lifeless body into the water, and I watched as it disappeared beneath the surface, swallowed by the swamp.
Feeling relieved that the body had been disposed of, I got back into car, relieved that no one saw me. I stopped a few blocks away from the university and parked his car on a quiet street. Now waiting to see if I would get away with murder or be caught.
The next few weeks after Mason’s murder were the most nerve-wracking I had ever experienced. I was constantly on edge, nervous that at any moment someone would knock on my door, and the police would be there to arrest me. I know that what I did was wrong, and I might have to pay the price for my actions.
During this time, I learned that Mason had been reported missing, and the police had no leads. I tried to appear as casual as possible when his name came up in conversations, but every time I heard his name, my skin crawled. I know that my actions took away someone’s life, and that thought was constantly at the forefront of my mind.
As time passed, however, I started to relax. Two weeks had gone by, and there had been no leads on Mason’s disappearance. I even began to feel excited when my editor assigned me to cover the story of the young wrestler’s disappearance. A part of me wanted to know what the police knew and what the public thought happened to him.
Although I knew that I was responsible for his disappearance, my journalistic instincts, mixed with a twisted excitement, pushed me to cover the story thoroughly.
Three weeks after murdering Mason, his badly decomposing body, still wearing his singlet, was found in the swamp by a local fisherman. The police announced it as a murder, and they were baffled as to why he was found wearing a singlet. They speculated that he must have been a wrestler or on his way to a wrestling match.
The discovery of Mason’s body was a turning point in the investigation and brought the police’s attention to the young wrestler’s disappearance. However, with no leads or suspects, the case turned cold, and the murder remained unsolved. I was relieved that the authorities had not caught me for my crime.
I laughed to myself when I realized that my promise to make Mason famous had come true, although not in the way he had wished. He had dreamed of becoming a successful wrestler, but my actions had turned him into a victim and a headline for the newspapers and news outlets around the country.
As for me, a monster had been born that day and no wrestler was safe.
Cameron, a tall and strong college wrestler with a soft heart, stepped off the bus at the edge of town. He had just started his mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and was full of enthusiasm about preaching the gospel to those who would listen.
He adjusted his tie as he walked down the road, taking in all the new sights around him. After walking for half an hour, he arrived at a small house surrounded by trees. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he knocked on the door.
Jonny had been keeping a relatively low profile since killing Luke, he’d loved the sensation of killing the young wrestler and been wrestling with the thought of finding more of the young athletes to kill. He been praying to God for a sign if he should continue killing but had so far seen none.
That was until he opened the door to find the attractive young missionary stood on his doorstep.
“Hello sir,” Cameron said confidently . “My name is Cameron and I’m a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I was wondering if you would be interested in hearing about our message.”
The door opened slowly, revealing a young man who looked only a few years older than himself. He glared at Cameron with contempt. In the background, Cameron could hear the faint sound of the Tv playing from within the house.
Jonny looked at the young missionary and then immediately noticed a ring that his young visitor wore as one that was given to wrestlers that competed in a certain tournament.
Cameron continued his preaching and watched as Jonny nodded thoughtfully throughout his speech, then suddenly smiled. “You’re a wrestler,” he said in a soft voice. Cameron nodded back, eager to connect with the man before him on this subject that had consumed his life for years and hoping he could use it to help with his conversion.
The two began talking passionately about wrestling for what felt like hours until the sun slowly set, and night engulfed them both. Cameron showed Jonny a recent picture of him in his wrestling singlet and Jonny was impressed.
The night was drawing in and Cameron made his way to the door, with the young wrestler ready to turn around and leave, Jonny sprang forward and wrapped his hands around Cameron’s throat. His grip was strong; Cameron frantically fought for his life and tried to pry his attackers hands off, but it was no use. With one final gasp of air, his body fell limp and lifeless to the ground below.
God had given Jonny sign he was looking for by bringing him one of his messengers that he could dispatch. Jonny took this to mean that God wanted him to kill more wrestlers and there was better than the present.
But for now, he needs to dump Cameron’s body and stripped the young missionary to his underwear before cramming the body into a suitcase and dumping it in a ditch by the side of the road.
It would be 2 weeks until Cameron’s decomposing body was found by some convicts on trash patrol.
Jonny found out about his latest victim’s discovery when he saw an article in the paper detailing the discovery of the body and naming the victim. The article showed a couple of pictures of Cameron one of which showed the Mormon missionary from his college days and shirtless.
Jonny now looked forward to conducting his next kill.
A week had passed since Barclay had gotten away with Ryan’s murder. The police had visited as they went over all Ryan’s whereabouts on the last day, he was seen but they soon left, and Barclay and the zoo were in the clear.
Barclay had wrestlers with his conscience and gone back and forth on killing another person to provide meat to the animals.
Eventually he gave in and went out to hunt for some suitable prey.
Aiden was on his way to meet his girlfriend at the dance, the young wrestler was excited to be in her arms once again.
But all of those plans were soon dashed when his car broke down miles away from the event. His heart sank as he feared he would never make it in time, not knowing what else to do, he leaned against his car and waited for help.
Barclay was driving and spotted a young man stood by his car with its hazards on. On seeing Barclay approaching he put out his thumb in the hope the passing vehicle would stop. He eyed up the blonde haired young man and could see that he had what looked like an athletic underneath.
Little did Aiden know that the person who stopped to help him had an ulterior motive. Aiden was on the hunt and looking for a suitable candidate for animal food and had been waiting for this exact opportunity. With nothing but death in mind, he offered Aiden a ride, with no intention of keeping his promise. Instead of delivering Aiden safely, the Barclay stopped a little further down the road and without warning, stabbed him multiple times with a razor-sharp knife.
Barclay then took the lifeless body of Aiden and placed it in his car trunk. Knowing no one would be able to find him, he drove back to the zoo and stripped the dead wrestler down to his underwear.
He then wasted little time and fed Aiden’s remains to the zoo’s hungry pigs, hoping to cover up any evidence of what had happened. He watched as the hungry pigs conveyed on the body and began to devour eat.
