Post by Alistair "Stainless" Steele on Jul 21, 2007 20:47:16 GMT -5
The early morning sunlight managed to force its way through the drawn beige curtains of Steele’s hotel room. With the help of the light breeze that ruffled those curtains, the sun’s rays seemed to dance and play on the varnished hardwood floor, creating a myriad of light that would trance someone if they stared at it for too long.
Steele lay asleep in a soft queen-sized bed, covered in a seemingly hand-made quilt and fresh clean sheets. The furniture around him was fashioned from rich mahogany, and the deep red walls and the multi-tonal ceiling made the perfect atmosphere to rest one’s weary body and mind.
Not enough rest for Steele, however.
He awoke with a start to the sharp sound of the cell phone ringing in his ear. Groaning, he pulled his pillow down around his ears in a vain attempt to block out the cursed ring tone. Why the hell did he keep the phone so close? Or more importantly, why so loud?
Steele mumbled random curses into his pillow as the phone continued ringing. He reached his arm out blindly and felt around for the small cellular device. After a minute or so of searching, his scarred hand clasped around the small object that Steele assumed, or at least he hoped, was the phone that the Two had given him. Eyes still half-closed, he answered.
“Yeah?”
Johnny greeted him from the other end. “Well good morning, old chap. Hope we didn’t wake you.” Steele could hear his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“You know God damn well you did,” Steele replied, still not fully awake. You pompous prick, he added in thought.
Steele’s response made Johnny laugh. “Ah, your annoyance amuses me, Mr. Steele.” He quickly turned serious as he continued. “However, being in a position such as yours, it would be wise to show us a little more respect, don’t you think?” His tone held a threatening edge, one that made Steele reconsider his next words.
As quickly as it had came, the foreboding in Johnny’s voice had disappeared. “Now, I know it’s early, but I have some news for you.”
Steele wasn’t entirely paying attention, but mumbled a half-hearted “I’m listening.”
“Mack Brody,” said Johnny.
Steele’s emerald eyes snapped open, and he tightened his grip on the phone ever so slightly.
“Go on.”
Johnny chuckled. “Well, now that I finally have your attention, Mr. Steele, I would like to inform you that you will be fighting Mr. Brody, very soon.”
“How soon?” asked Steele, his eyes flashing with a subtle excitement, a smirk appearing on his chiseled features.
“Why, at the upcoming Sunday Night Onslaught.”
The smirk on Steele’s face quickly grew into a mischievous smile. He rubbed a hand through a few days’ worth of stubble and propped himself up on his elbows, switching the phone to the other ear. “Reaper’s actually putting me in a match with Brody?” he asked, suspicious.
“That’s correct, Mr. Steele,” Johnny replied. “Mr. Ash placed the ‘Bruiser’ on the roster immediately after last week’s... interference. He said that—“ he stopped mid-sentence, and it sounded to Steele like he was straining to keep something, or someone, from moving. Johnny soon came back on the line. “Sorry to cut this short, Mr. Steele. We’ll keep in touch,” he said, and was about to hang up, but added, “Oh, and Mr. Steele?”
“Yeah?” Steele said.
“Toys have been provided, should you choose to use them.” Johnny quickly hung up, but Steele could’ve sworn he heard somebody pleading for help in the background.
Steele was left confused with the phone to his ear, the humming of the dial tone the only sound in the room. He closed the cell phone and tossed it back on the night stand, and glanced at the clock. 6:17 A.M. Steele rolled his eyes and groaned.
Jesus Christ.
He knew he wouldn’t get back to sleep now. It was that time where it was too early to wake up but too late to fall back to sleep. Several more profanities escaped Steele’s mouth as he surrendered to the daylight. He pulled back the covers and swung his feet around the side of the bed. The hardwood floor felt cool against the flesh of his bare feet as he stood and stretched his muscles.
Looking around at his room, Steele saw that once again, the Two had an excellent taste. It was a very cozy hotel, but funny... he couldn’t remember the name of it for the life of him. No matter. The name wasn’t important.
Steele sighed and made his way to the bathroom that connected to his room. Maybe a shower would wake him up. Stripping down, Steele spent a couple minutes sizing himself up in the bathroom mirror. He couldn’t even count how many women had enjoyed his body in the past, and as he thought about it he felt an all-too-familiar warmth in his privates. His ego grew almost as quickly as his manhood, and after another five minutes of reminiscing, Steele decided it was enough.
The shower was just what he needed. Steele liked the water to be almost scalding hot, and he stood under the spray with his eyes closed, letting the water wash his fatigue away. He kept thinking about what Johnny had said.
‘Toys have been provided’... what kind of toys is that bastard talking about?
The bathroom was engulfed with steam by the time Steele got out of the shower. It was like a heavy fog, so thick that he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face, which was most likely horribly wrinkled at that point. Steele considered wrapping himself in a towel, but he decided that it was unnecessary; he was alone anyway, it’s not like anyone would see him.
Steele managed to find the doorhandle and stepped out into the cool hotel room–which was a sharp contrast from the sweltering hot bathroom he just came out of–and came face to face with one of the many female housekeeping servants the hotel hired.
They both stood in shock for a moment, and Steele was the first to recover.
Fuck, don’t just stand there like a God damn retard, cover your fucking dick!
Embarrassed, he grabbed the closest thing to him, which was a lace pink pillow that was hardly enough to cover his unmentionables, and attempted to shield himself from further embarrassment–which at this point was extremely difficult to do. The maid managed to pry her eyes from Steele’s package and stared him in the face, mouth agape, and she tried to mumble some form of an apology, but couldn’t get the words out. She quickly realized what was happening, and covered her eyes with Steele’s bed sheets that she was in the midst of fixing before he walked out of the bathroom in all his naked glory.
His face completely rouge, Steele also couldn’t bring himself to rightly apologize, instead he slowly backed into the bathroom to properly cover his naked frame, still holding the pillow in place. The steam was still too thick to see anything. He felt around blindly for the towel he had discarded, knocking over pretty much everything his hands came in contact with.
Jesus fucking Christ, where’s that bloody towel?
Finally he felt the soft, damp texture of the towel in question, and wrapped it around his torso. Quickly composing himself, he rushed out of the bathroom to once again greet the housekeeping maid who still had the sheets over her face. Steele walked over to the maid and took her hands, lowering them past her face, which was still as red as the quilt she held. Steele smiled awkwardly at her and said the only words he could think of at the time.
“You could’ve knocked first.”
This coaxed a slight nervous laugh from the maid, who couldn’t bring herself to look Steele in the face after seeing what she had seen. Still averting her eyes, she continued to make up Steele’s bed; anything to keep her from just standing there looking like a fool.
“Sorry,” the pretty brunette replied nervously, “I did knock, but there was no answer. Didn’t occur to me that you were in the shower.”
As the maid was bent over tucking the bed sheets in under the mattress, Steele got a glimpse of her cleavage, and just a hint of the white lace bra that barely held her perky breasts. Instinct took over and without thinking, Steele muttered quietly, “Well if I knew you were coming you could’ve showered with me.” He immediately realized what he said and his face reddened once again.
Damn idiot.
Fortunately, the maid seemed preoccupied with her own thoughts. “Hmm?” she asked absent-mindedly, re-arranging the pillows on his bed.
Steele breathed a sigh of relief and replied, “Uh, nothing, just talking to myself.” He made his way over to the comfortable arm chair in the corner where his clothes lay strewn across the back. He grabbed the jeans and new black t-shirt and strolled into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He shoved on his clothes and tried to smooth out some of the wrinkles, but to no avail. He grunted with defeat and once again left the bathroom. The maid had moved on to replacing the soft, red cushions on the matching chairs, and opened the beige blinds. The sun poured in with full force and Steele had to let his emerald eyes adjust to the light.
Steele continued watching the maid as she cleaned and dusted his hotel room, not quite sure what to think. Was he supposed to stick around and entertain her? He had thought of quite a few ways to do so, but all of those ways ended badly for him.
The maid must have felt his eyes on her, because without turning to face him, she said, “Don’t stick around because of me. It’s my job to be here every day to keep the place tidy. If you have somewhere to go then by all means, go.”
Steele nodded. Walking to the hotel room door, he checked his pockets before he left. Wallet and money, check. Lighter, check. Cell phone... still on the night stand.
Steele retrieved the cell phone from the mahogany piece of furniture. He was about to pocket it when it emitted a short tone that he hadn’t heard before. The main panel lit up and read, New Text Message. Confused, Steele pressed the “Read” button on the phone.
“Hlp me plz”
Steele was taken aback. There was no name attached to the message, only a phone number. Steele dialed the number as he left the hotel room and let the rings go through. To his surprise, it was Johnny who answered.
“Mr. Steele,” he said, also taken by surprise. “I wasn’t expecting a call from you. Is something wrong?”
“Not really,” Steele replied, somewhat concerned. “I got a text message from your phone earlier. It said ‘help me please.’ Do you know what that was about?”
Johnny started to speak, but paused, as if carefully choosing his next words. “Nothing to worry about, Mr. Steele,” he started. “Everything has been taken care of. I appreciate your concern though. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some... business to attend to. Cheerio!” and he hung up.
Once again, Steele was left without any satisfying answers. He pocketed his cell phone, deciding that the Two’s business was none of his concern. His only focus at the moment was his upcoming match against the Bruiser. Steele strolled down the hallway and turned the corner, heading for the staircase. He descended the stairs two at a time and walked through the lobby and out the front doors.
He could tell it was going to be a long day, and he needed some fresh air.
Steele lay asleep in a soft queen-sized bed, covered in a seemingly hand-made quilt and fresh clean sheets. The furniture around him was fashioned from rich mahogany, and the deep red walls and the multi-tonal ceiling made the perfect atmosphere to rest one’s weary body and mind.
Not enough rest for Steele, however.
He awoke with a start to the sharp sound of the cell phone ringing in his ear. Groaning, he pulled his pillow down around his ears in a vain attempt to block out the cursed ring tone. Why the hell did he keep the phone so close? Or more importantly, why so loud?
Steele mumbled random curses into his pillow as the phone continued ringing. He reached his arm out blindly and felt around for the small cellular device. After a minute or so of searching, his scarred hand clasped around the small object that Steele assumed, or at least he hoped, was the phone that the Two had given him. Eyes still half-closed, he answered.
“Yeah?”
Johnny greeted him from the other end. “Well good morning, old chap. Hope we didn’t wake you.” Steele could hear his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“You know God damn well you did,” Steele replied, still not fully awake. You pompous prick, he added in thought.
Steele’s response made Johnny laugh. “Ah, your annoyance amuses me, Mr. Steele.” He quickly turned serious as he continued. “However, being in a position such as yours, it would be wise to show us a little more respect, don’t you think?” His tone held a threatening edge, one that made Steele reconsider his next words.
As quickly as it had came, the foreboding in Johnny’s voice had disappeared. “Now, I know it’s early, but I have some news for you.”
Steele wasn’t entirely paying attention, but mumbled a half-hearted “I’m listening.”
“Mack Brody,” said Johnny.
Steele’s emerald eyes snapped open, and he tightened his grip on the phone ever so slightly.
“Go on.”
Johnny chuckled. “Well, now that I finally have your attention, Mr. Steele, I would like to inform you that you will be fighting Mr. Brody, very soon.”
“How soon?” asked Steele, his eyes flashing with a subtle excitement, a smirk appearing on his chiseled features.
“Why, at the upcoming Sunday Night Onslaught.”
The smirk on Steele’s face quickly grew into a mischievous smile. He rubbed a hand through a few days’ worth of stubble and propped himself up on his elbows, switching the phone to the other ear. “Reaper’s actually putting me in a match with Brody?” he asked, suspicious.
“That’s correct, Mr. Steele,” Johnny replied. “Mr. Ash placed the ‘Bruiser’ on the roster immediately after last week’s... interference. He said that—“ he stopped mid-sentence, and it sounded to Steele like he was straining to keep something, or someone, from moving. Johnny soon came back on the line. “Sorry to cut this short, Mr. Steele. We’ll keep in touch,” he said, and was about to hang up, but added, “Oh, and Mr. Steele?”
“Yeah?” Steele said.
“Toys have been provided, should you choose to use them.” Johnny quickly hung up, but Steele could’ve sworn he heard somebody pleading for help in the background.
Steele was left confused with the phone to his ear, the humming of the dial tone the only sound in the room. He closed the cell phone and tossed it back on the night stand, and glanced at the clock. 6:17 A.M. Steele rolled his eyes and groaned.
Jesus Christ.
He knew he wouldn’t get back to sleep now. It was that time where it was too early to wake up but too late to fall back to sleep. Several more profanities escaped Steele’s mouth as he surrendered to the daylight. He pulled back the covers and swung his feet around the side of the bed. The hardwood floor felt cool against the flesh of his bare feet as he stood and stretched his muscles.
Looking around at his room, Steele saw that once again, the Two had an excellent taste. It was a very cozy hotel, but funny... he couldn’t remember the name of it for the life of him. No matter. The name wasn’t important.
Steele sighed and made his way to the bathroom that connected to his room. Maybe a shower would wake him up. Stripping down, Steele spent a couple minutes sizing himself up in the bathroom mirror. He couldn’t even count how many women had enjoyed his body in the past, and as he thought about it he felt an all-too-familiar warmth in his privates. His ego grew almost as quickly as his manhood, and after another five minutes of reminiscing, Steele decided it was enough.
The shower was just what he needed. Steele liked the water to be almost scalding hot, and he stood under the spray with his eyes closed, letting the water wash his fatigue away. He kept thinking about what Johnny had said.
‘Toys have been provided’... what kind of toys is that bastard talking about?
The bathroom was engulfed with steam by the time Steele got out of the shower. It was like a heavy fog, so thick that he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face, which was most likely horribly wrinkled at that point. Steele considered wrapping himself in a towel, but he decided that it was unnecessary; he was alone anyway, it’s not like anyone would see him.
Steele managed to find the doorhandle and stepped out into the cool hotel room–which was a sharp contrast from the sweltering hot bathroom he just came out of–and came face to face with one of the many female housekeeping servants the hotel hired.
They both stood in shock for a moment, and Steele was the first to recover.
Fuck, don’t just stand there like a God damn retard, cover your fucking dick!
Embarrassed, he grabbed the closest thing to him, which was a lace pink pillow that was hardly enough to cover his unmentionables, and attempted to shield himself from further embarrassment–which at this point was extremely difficult to do. The maid managed to pry her eyes from Steele’s package and stared him in the face, mouth agape, and she tried to mumble some form of an apology, but couldn’t get the words out. She quickly realized what was happening, and covered her eyes with Steele’s bed sheets that she was in the midst of fixing before he walked out of the bathroom in all his naked glory.
His face completely rouge, Steele also couldn’t bring himself to rightly apologize, instead he slowly backed into the bathroom to properly cover his naked frame, still holding the pillow in place. The steam was still too thick to see anything. He felt around blindly for the towel he had discarded, knocking over pretty much everything his hands came in contact with.
Jesus fucking Christ, where’s that bloody towel?
Finally he felt the soft, damp texture of the towel in question, and wrapped it around his torso. Quickly composing himself, he rushed out of the bathroom to once again greet the housekeeping maid who still had the sheets over her face. Steele walked over to the maid and took her hands, lowering them past her face, which was still as red as the quilt she held. Steele smiled awkwardly at her and said the only words he could think of at the time.
“You could’ve knocked first.”
This coaxed a slight nervous laugh from the maid, who couldn’t bring herself to look Steele in the face after seeing what she had seen. Still averting her eyes, she continued to make up Steele’s bed; anything to keep her from just standing there looking like a fool.
“Sorry,” the pretty brunette replied nervously, “I did knock, but there was no answer. Didn’t occur to me that you were in the shower.”
As the maid was bent over tucking the bed sheets in under the mattress, Steele got a glimpse of her cleavage, and just a hint of the white lace bra that barely held her perky breasts. Instinct took over and without thinking, Steele muttered quietly, “Well if I knew you were coming you could’ve showered with me.” He immediately realized what he said and his face reddened once again.
Damn idiot.
Fortunately, the maid seemed preoccupied with her own thoughts. “Hmm?” she asked absent-mindedly, re-arranging the pillows on his bed.
Steele breathed a sigh of relief and replied, “Uh, nothing, just talking to myself.” He made his way over to the comfortable arm chair in the corner where his clothes lay strewn across the back. He grabbed the jeans and new black t-shirt and strolled into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He shoved on his clothes and tried to smooth out some of the wrinkles, but to no avail. He grunted with defeat and once again left the bathroom. The maid had moved on to replacing the soft, red cushions on the matching chairs, and opened the beige blinds. The sun poured in with full force and Steele had to let his emerald eyes adjust to the light.
Steele continued watching the maid as she cleaned and dusted his hotel room, not quite sure what to think. Was he supposed to stick around and entertain her? He had thought of quite a few ways to do so, but all of those ways ended badly for him.
The maid must have felt his eyes on her, because without turning to face him, she said, “Don’t stick around because of me. It’s my job to be here every day to keep the place tidy. If you have somewhere to go then by all means, go.”
Steele nodded. Walking to the hotel room door, he checked his pockets before he left. Wallet and money, check. Lighter, check. Cell phone... still on the night stand.
Steele retrieved the cell phone from the mahogany piece of furniture. He was about to pocket it when it emitted a short tone that he hadn’t heard before. The main panel lit up and read, New Text Message. Confused, Steele pressed the “Read” button on the phone.
“Hlp me plz”
Steele was taken aback. There was no name attached to the message, only a phone number. Steele dialed the number as he left the hotel room and let the rings go through. To his surprise, it was Johnny who answered.
“Mr. Steele,” he said, also taken by surprise. “I wasn’t expecting a call from you. Is something wrong?”
“Not really,” Steele replied, somewhat concerned. “I got a text message from your phone earlier. It said ‘help me please.’ Do you know what that was about?”
Johnny started to speak, but paused, as if carefully choosing his next words. “Nothing to worry about, Mr. Steele,” he started. “Everything has been taken care of. I appreciate your concern though. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some... business to attend to. Cheerio!” and he hung up.
Once again, Steele was left without any satisfying answers. He pocketed his cell phone, deciding that the Two’s business was none of his concern. His only focus at the moment was his upcoming match against the Bruiser. Steele strolled down the hallway and turned the corner, heading for the staircase. He descended the stairs two at a time and walked through the lobby and out the front doors.
He could tell it was going to be a long day, and he needed some fresh air.
