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More Human than Human.
"You only have one shot at a first impression"
That seems to be the old adage. When you interview for a potential new job, your first impression matters. How you look, talk, smell, etc. - it all matters for how people perceive you. One look at Ashley Voorhees and many would cast him off as another nutjob that would wind up in jail or found dead under the underpass from a drug overdose. So, do first impressions really matter? Think about it - would you look at Ashley Voorhees and give him the benefit of the doubt? Or would you let your imagination convince you that he was a bad person?
Well, your impression would be right - Ashley is a very bad person; some would even say he was evil.
In the world of professional wrestling, Ashley stands out like a giant green alien wearing a pink tutu; he's not like everyone else. From his look to his demeanor, Ashley was just someone... different. Different doesn't always mean bad, but in his case? Yeah, it really does mean that. Ashley is what happens when bad meets evil, they have sex and give birth to a baby - that's who he is, and fuck... he loves it.
All around the Portland area are scarred reminders of what Ashley is capable of. From the broken bones and bruised egos, Ashley was infamous in the Portland area for his... unconventional methods of wrestling. He wasn't one to astound you with wrestling prowess - he'd rather skin you alive and burn your bones. That's just the kinda' guy he is. So, when the news broke that "The Butcher" Ashley Voorhees had signed with Elite Answers Wrestling - one of the biggest companies in the world - there were legitimate questions as to whether his style would work on the big stage and under the bright lights.
Spoiler alert: it does.
His first victim? "Prince" Dray Fontana - a young and promising wrestler with quite a reputation himself. To Ashley, he was just another name to notch into his belt of victims that have felt his wrath, but hey... a debut is important, and Ashley was about to show the entire viewing world just who the fuck he is. As for Dray Fontana? Better luck next time, kid - if there is a next time anyway.
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"I'm not sure people realize who the fuck I am because if they did, they wouldn't waste my time with a schmuck like Dray Fontana."
Smirking from ear to ear, "the Butcher" himself shook his head in disappointment at the mention of Dray Fontana, his opponent this Saturday night on Showdown for his debut - a debut that was highly anticipated.
"I've been in this business for longer than you've been alive, kid - you name it, I've seen it. I've seen a four hundred pound man drive me through a fucking table in front of fifteen people who had their faces buried in their phones the entire time. I've seen someone quit right in the middle of the ring because they couldn't hack it on their first night on the job. I've seen everything there is to be seen, and for the first time in nearly twenty years Ashley Voorhees is getting a legitimate shot in the limelight to show the entire fucking world just what he's capable of. And do you know what I'm capable of, Dray?"
He let his words linger for a moment, smirking as a soft chuckle escaped his breath.
"I'm capable of ending your career before it even takes off. Picture this, kid: you're in the ring with a guy who has no regard for your life or his own. You're in the ring with one fucked up son of a bitch who is covered head to toe with scars that would make Jeffrey Dahmer sick to his stomach. You're standing across the ring from a guy who has ended careers and sent human beings to an early grave. Unfortunately for you, you won't have to just picture it - you're going to experience it first hand on Saturday night in Newark, New Jersey. You drew the short straw out of the proverbial hat and now have to face your fate against me, and guess what, 'Prince'? You won't live long enough to see yourself become King."
He cracked his neck with the palm of his hands, closing his eyes and letting out another soft chuckle under his breath. Slowly, he opened his eyes and pierced the camera with his dead dark eyes, barely showing any emotion whatsoever.
"What I say isn't just hyperbole to get into your head - it's the real fucking deal. I've ended careers at the snap of my finger and the crack of a baseball bat. I've watched as grown men - older than you, kid - dropped to their fucking knees and begged me to show them mercy. I'm not God - I don't show mercy. Mercy isn't something I believe in - I'm in this for nothing by the satisfaction I get from inflicting pain on others. And here's the real funny thing, Dray - I don't mind getting hurt, either; hell, I love the taste of my own blood as it drips from my forehead into my mouth. You haven't lived until you've had that metallic taste in your mouth... it's like a fucking superpower. But a pretty boy like you? I bet you get squeamish the moment you see blood, which is unfortunate because this Saturday night you're going to see more of it than you've ever seen before. That's not just a threat - that's a fucking guarantee. You see, I don't go easy on anyone and I don't give a shit how old you are. You can be 18 or 50 years old, I'm going to beat the ever living fuck out of you and have a smile on my face the entire time I do it. I'm going to relish at the sight of you begging for me to save your career as if I give a flying fuck. You think I won't strike you down right then and there? Think again. As I said, I have no remorse for you - or anyone else for that matter - and the only thing that matters to me in the end is having fun at your expense. I know people like you, Dray - you think you're braver than you are. You think you can get by on talent alone, but talent won't mean shit when you're in the ring with me. You can give me everything you got and I promise you that it won't be enough. I've been dragged through hell and burned on every piece of brimstone on my way to put the Devil down, and you think I'm going to let some punk kid like you get the best of me?"
He laughed at the sheer madness of the thought of Dray Fontana - a young 23 year old 'kid' - getting the best of him. Ashley was a seasoned veteran of the game who has the 1,000 mile stare due to everything he's seen. Dray Fontana ain't shit as far as he's concerned.
"Do me a favor, kid - stay home. Practice social distancing and just forfeit because you may think you're ready for this, but I can assure you that you're not. The moment that bell rings and the reality sets in, you're going to piss your pants in fear and I'm going to tear you apart limb from limb and leave nothing to the imagination. The only thing that'll be left are the scraps that the buzzards eat up until you're nothing but bits and pieces in a pile of buzzard shit. This isn't a fucking game to me, kid - this is my entire life. I have dedicated nearly twenty years to this, and now that Ashley Voorhees is finally center stage? It's time for me to show this fucked up world that the boogeyman isn't who you should be afraid of - it's me."
His eyes narrowed as yet another sadistic smirk appeared on his broken and bruised face.
"I understand there's a pecking order here in EAW, and I'm prepared to maim every single member of the roster to get to the top... because once I'm there? There's no turning back. Dray Fontana? You're the first of many that will fall at my feet, and I promise you won't be the last. Saturday night. May 16th. Newark, New Jersey. Wear your best black suit because it's your own fucking funeral."
