The Nightstorm (WWE OC story)

The Awakening

The next day, I found myself lying in bed, enveloped in a cloud of sadness and despair. The weight of being fired from the WWE bore down on me, crushing my spirit and leaving me feeling utterly unmotivated. The thought of getting up, facing the world, and starting anew seemed like an insurmountable task.

But as I lay there, consumed by my sorrow, memories of the injustices inflicted upon me by Hunter, Reigns, and Ziggler flooded my mind. The anger welled up inside me like a raging fire, and suddenly, I could see things with newfound clarity.

I realized that I couldn't continue to wallow in self-pity and rely on others to shape my destiny. No, it was time to stand on my own two feet and learn how to navigate this unforgiving world by myself. I had to embrace the pain, the disappointment, and channel it into a burning determination to prove myself. With an intense disdain, I reluctantly forced myself out of bed. The oppressive heaviness that clung to my body seemed to linger, feeding my resentment. 

Lost in my thoughts, a strange sensation washed over me. In the dimly lit room, a figure materialized before me - it was another version of myself, or perhaps a manifestation of my inner turmoil. He looked at me, his eyes burning with anger and resentment.

"Look around you, Ángel! Remember what people done to you all your life!" he snarled. "Look at your broken mirror, a reflection of your soul, was shattered by those who treated you as a monster, like you don't belong. But I tell you this, that's all bullshit, they are the true monsters. They dictated what's right and wrong, manipulated you into their doctrines, and used you for their own selfish purposes."

His words pierced my heart, unleashing a torrent of pent-up rage within me. Every insult, every humiliation, and every moment of being treated as less than human resurfaced in my mind. Kofi's taunt of "monster" echoed through the depths of my soul, intertwining with the memories of others who had belittled and scorned me.

But no more. The anger welled up within me, an all-consuming fire that threatened to consume everything in its path. I embraced it, allowing it to sear through my veins. The resentment towards those who had made me feel small, insignificant, and worthless fueled my determination.

In the remains of my mirror, I saw a reflection of defiance. The world had called me a monster, and I would show them the true depths of my monstrous nature. 

"What do you see in the shattered remains? Are you still that broken man?" his voice echoed, taunting me with its accusatory tone.

In a surge of defiance, I hissed back, my voice trembling with anger. "No! I refuse to be like that anymore," I declared, my words laced with resentment. "I'm done with this. I am no longer a puppet controlled by their lies and deceit."

With each word, my doppelganger stoked the flames of rebellion within me. "I'm calling it right here, right now," he snarled, his voice dripping with venom. "If they think you're a monster, Ángel, then prove them right."

I realized the truth that I had been hiding from all along. I had been weak, unable to face the harsh realities of the world. I had chosen to live in my own bubble, muting the truth and evading its presence. But no more.

"I have learned to walk, but now I will run and I won't need anyone to push me forward," I whispered to myself. It was time to shed my old skin, to rise above my past and embrace the person I was destined to become, now I see under myself.

With each step I took to go out, I could feel the weight of the past slipping away, replaced by a sense of freedom and rebirth. I knew that I couldn't simply erase my past, but I could transform it, mold it into something greater.  I burned myself in my own flame and so, I made the decision to return to the world and rise anew from the ashes, but this time, I would start from the beginning in a new place.

Leaving behind the remnants of my former self, I ventured outside to procure the tools that would represent the birth of the new me: The Nightstorm. I purchased a mask, its design reflecting the darkness and power that now coursed through my veins. I carefully selected an attire that embodied the essence of my rebirth, a manifestation of the unleashed fury and determination that resided within.

Stepping into the world of TNA, I knew that it would be a fresh start, a chance to redefine myself and forge a new path. No longer shackled by the expectations and limitations of my past, I would show the world the true extent of my abilities. The Nightstorm would be a force to be reckoned with, leaving a trail of destruction in my wake.

As I donned the mask and adorned myself with the symbolic attire, I could feel the transformation taking place. The old Ángel had died, and from the ashes emerged a new being, fierce and relentless. I was ready to embark on this new journey, fueled by the fire that burned within me.

I was no longer the naive and hopeful soul they once knew. I had transformed, reborn from the ashes of my shattered dreams. From this point on, I would be the one to define my destiny. The world had created a monster, and now, it was time to let it loose. I would show them the darkness they had awakened within me, and I would make them regret ever crossing me.

With each passing moment, I felt the weight of my past fading away. I no longer saw myself as the weak and overlooked individual I once was. Instead, I saw a warrior, a creature of the night, ready to unleash my wrath upon the unsuspecting world. The Nightstorm had awakened, and nothing would stand in my way.

As I took my first steps into the world of TNA, I knew that the road ahead would be challenging, filled with obstacles and adversaries. But I was prepared. The anger, the resentment, the determination that flowed through my veins would fuel my every move. I would carve my own path, leaving an indelible mark on the wrestling world.

The Nightstorm had arrived, and the world would never be the same again.