This is the first chapter of a story based on my WWE '13 universe. Be warned: There are three (3) OC's in this story. Their names are Keric (Alpha Wolf), Tyrone (Black Wolf), and Joseph (White Wolf) Mercer. They are new wrestlers that the WWE has just hired.
Tell me what you think.
I do not own the WWE, the ring names (or actual names), themes, etc. They are all owned by the corporation. Even if I did own it, there'd be very little change.
Chapter One-The First Day
The Lexus came to a stop in the parking lot and the engine died almost immediately. Yet none of the passengers stepped out yet, each of them still getting over the shock of reality. The driver, Keric Mercer, turned to his brothers, Tyrone in the passenger seat and Joseph in the back seat.
"This is really happening, isn't it?" Joseph inquired, his voice slightly squeaky in his giddiness. "We're really going to do this..."
"Yeah," Tyrone murmured. He swallowed slightly, looking at the eldest. "Well, are we just going to wait in here all day, Keric? Shouldn't we...?"
"Get in there?" Keric offered. Tyrone nodded. "Yeah."
Yet still, they did not move.
"Are you guys sure you want to do this? No regrets?" Keric asked.
Joseph thought on it for a second, but Tyrone rolled his eyes. "We agreed that we'd make it here and here we are. No turning back because you got cold feet, Ricky." Tyrone pushed the door open and stepped out, quickly followed by Keric and Joseph. He checked his watch carefully before looking at his brothers. "Let's get going. Still need to get changed before our big debut!"
Keric stared at his reflection in the locker room mirror, hardly believing that he looked the way he did. He chortled slightly. Somehow, he had not pictured himself looking quite this way when he and his brothers had designed the costumes.
His hair, with dyed streaks of silver, had been pulled back into a ponytail that trailed halfway down his back. Atop his head was a fake pair of wolf ears, sticking straight up. His shirt, a dull gray with the image of a howling wolf on it, was cut halfway down his stomach. Studded gloves accented his hands, and a studded belt with a chain hooked onto it kept his pants up. He wore dull gray boots and, to bring home the "wolf" motif, he wore a spiked collar, complete with a dog tag that read: Alpha Wolf.
"Wow," Keric chuckled. He looked better suited for some kind of concert than the ring.
"We don't look that bad, do we?" Tyrone asked, now looking at himself. He was dressed much like Keric except for a few differences: his hair was styled in a buzz cut, he wore black bands around his wrists in place of gloves, and his entire outfit was black with a white wolf emblem. Unlike his brother, his dog tag read: Black Wolf-it suited the image that they were trying to portray.
"I've seen worse... remember the Hurricane?" Keric offered. Tyrone nodded, smiling as well.
"So, what happens now?" Joseph asked, moving over to them as well. His outfit was like theirs but, for clarity, had minor alterations: instead of pants, he wore white basketball shorts, his outfit was white, and instead of boots, wore regular tennis shoes. His collar bore the title: White Wolf.
"Well, we march out there, make a name for ourselves, and become champions," Keric suggested. "If I go for the WWE title-"
"I'll for the Intercontinental," Joseph added.
"What'll that leave me?" Tyrone demanded.
"Well... There's the tag team championship, but..." Keric trailed off, thinking hard as he looked at his brothers. Tyrone was expecting an answer, but, upon seeing that Keric had none, sighed.
"Whatever. I don't care."
"That's a bad idea," a new voice broke in. "You shouldn't say you don't care."
They wheeled around to see none other than John Cena, standing there with his arms crossed. His expression was impossible to discern, but Keric guessed that he was probably analyzing the new competition. After all, nobody really knew who the "three newcomers" were, just that they were brothers.
"Hi," Joseph said with the excitement of a young boy; he had always professed to be a Cena fan. He pushed himself forward, extending his hand to his hero. "My name's Joey."
"John," Cena replied unnecessarily. He shook Joseph's hand once before withdrawing his own. "So... you're the new guys?"
"Yeah," Tyrone remarked, pulling his brother back.
"Cool. Always looking forward to new competition. But just keep this in mind: you always care because if you don't, you don't win. Just a bit of advice from an old pro."
"Thanks," Joseph said. "But we've almost never lost."
"Really?" Cena said, thinking carefully. Then, he smiled. "I wish you the best of luck." And with that, he walked out of the locker room, leaving them to ponder his words.
"Feeling intimidated?" Tyrone asked after a few minutes of silence.
"No..." Keric said, swallowing down a small shred of fear. "Well... our big debut is in a few minutes... Are you ready?"
"Ready," Tyrone and Joseph agreed in unison.
"One..." Keric started.
"Two..." Tyrone continued.
"Three..." Joseph finished.
At once, they threw their head back and howled. It had become their moniker, their call that they had used since they were younger. And soon, it would be that call that the crowd would be cheering to.
"...and their opponents in this three-on-three tag team match..."
Keric swallowed hard, hearing their song play. Now, there really was no turning back.
"...with a combined weight of 621 pounds, all from the CircleCity..."
"Let's go," Keric said, hoping to sound reassuring to his brothers.
"THE ALPHA WOLF, THE BLACK WOLF, AND THE WHITE WOLF! TOGETHER, THEY ARE THE WOLF PACK!"
They stepped out onto the ramp, stopping after a few steps for the crowd to get a good look at them. The crowd was not booing-that was a good sign-yet they weren't exactly cheering either. They wanted to see how well this new team did. If they won, they'd be stars; if they lost, they'd be nobodies.
They started down the ramp and, gradually, the crowd warmed up to them, an encouraging cheer starting to resonate throughout the stands. Even their opponents (the randomly chosen team of CM Punk, David Otunga, and Triple H) were clapping, much to their surprise. They climbed into the ring and stood (Joseph had stepped onto a turnbuckle to garner extra attention), waiting for the match to start. A referee took his place in the ring between the two teams, nodding at them both.
"Decide who goes first. The others are to wait on the apron."
"Maybe you should go," Joseph whispered to Tyrone.
"Scared?" Tyrone teased, pulling Joseph to the corner. "Ricky! You got this!"
"Right..." Keric snorted, looking at CM Punk who was looking rather cocky. Right now, he was feeling the urge to knock that cocky smile from Punk's face.
The referee made the motion for the bell to ring. Keric took a hesitant step forward and Punk continued to smile. Giving into his impulse, Keric attempted to punch, but Punk was smooth; he grabbed his opponent's hand and, while twisting the fist, pulled on the arm, forcing Keric to the mat. Without releasing Keric's fist, he put his weight on Keric's back, pulling the arm with as much force as he could, attempting to force Keric to submit.
Keric, feeling the eyes of millions of spectators-his brothers-on him, refused to give in. Quickly, he flipped himself over, forcing Punk onto the mat with Keric's body colliding painfully onto Punk's chest. Punk coughed as Keric hurried to his feet. Punk quickly jumped to his feet and Keric could hear the commentators in the background, hyping the match. Yet he knew he couldn't allow himself to be distracted right now; their words were unimportant.
He dashed towards CM Punk, talking him with a spear before aiming punches at his opponent's face-the Lou Thez Press had been a specialty of Keric's. Yet Punk was blocking almost every blow. Finally, having had enough, Punk reached up and, pushing on Keric's face, pushed Keric backward. They stumbled up again.
He and Punk charged at each other, each one grasping the other's shoulder. In a split second, Keric had turned the tables, taking hold of Punk's head, but he soon realized the mistake. With strength Keric had underestimated, Punk had lifted Keric up by the waist, falling backward in a such a rapid movement that by the time Keric had realized what had happened, his word had turned upside-down.
"Looks like the newbie needs some help," Lawler was announcing.
"Shut the fuck up," Keric grumbled, jumping to his feet quickly. He turned, expecting to face Punk, but Punk had already tagged out: Otunga had taken his place. Perhaps it was time for him to tag out as well. He did not have long to dwell: Otunga was moving towards him rapidly and, when Otunga punched, Keric grabbed the fist, spinning quickly before releasing the hand. Otunga fell backward before catching himself, looking to face-to-face with the White Wolf, Joseph.
Otunga moved forward again and made an attempt to attack Joseph with a punch. Joseph, using his relatively small size to his advantage, ducked beneath the fist before tackling Otunga with all his mind. Now, putting his weight on Otunga's back and using his legs to keep Otunga's arms down, Joseph reached down and put his arm around Otunga's head, pulling back with all his might. Otunga gave a small grunt of pain, starting to inch himself to the ropes.
"Rope break! Let him go," the referee declared. Joseph let up on Otunga, but he soon realized a mistake. Once his grip had started to ease, Otunga fell backward, landing right on Joseph's chest. With malicious intent, Otunga grabbed Joseph's arm, heaving him up in an attempt to throw him against a turnbuckle. Joseph, able to sense the impending danger, grabbed Otunga's arm before he was released, using the momentum to throw Otunga into the corner. Otunga hit the turnbuckle loudly, but before he could get back out, Joseph had hit him with a calculating strike, using a clothesline to force Otunga over the ropes and onto the floor. Hell broke loose.
Both sides, now seeing that the competitors were outside of the ring, jumped down from their respective places, intent on helping their teammate. The crowd was cheering loudly now and the commentators were giving a more energetic play-by-play. Rather than simply climb out of the ring, Joseph did something he had never thought of doing before; he climbed onto the top turnbuckle and jumped, thrusting his shoulder onto Otunga's chest. Otunga's loud gasp of pain seemed to be just as loud the crowd was and he coughed, starting to stumble as he made his way to his feet.
Tyrone had started his bout with Triple H, forcing him against the barrier that kept the crowd back. He and H traded blows continuously until, finally, Tyrone had had enough. With as much strength as he could muster, he thrust his entire body into H's stomach, forcing him through the barricade and into the crowd.
Keric had taken to resuming his fight with Punk. They dueled by the announcer's table, fighting brutally. One good shot had both of them reeling backwards and the announcers were going mad, trying eager to cover everything, all of the action. But Keric had taken it a step further. Carefully and angrily, he lifted Punk up and over his head before dropping him on the announcers' table, which crumbled under the sudden burst of pressure.
Joseph picked Otunga up and threw him beneath the bottom rope and back into the ring. Then, before Otunga could get up again, Joseph climbed the top rope again and jumped downward, hitting his mark. Otunga yelped, and Joseph used the chance to tag out-Tyrone still hadn't had any time in the ring.
Tyrone stepped forward, dropping his elbow onto Otunga before pinning him. The ref dropped, slamming his hand once, twice, three times. The bell rang and...
"WE WON!" Joseph declared, jumping into the ring with Keric. They moved to the front of the middle of the ring and, as one, they lifted their hands in victory.
"HERE ARE YOUR WINNERS! THE ALPHA WOLF, THE BLACK WOLF, THE WHITE WOLF: THE WOLF PACK!"
"I didn't know we were that good," Joseph exclaimed. They had just returned to the hotel room after being treated to a rather exquisite dinner by the other superstars to "welcome them to the big leagues". "We won!"
"That was a little too easy, don't you think?" Tyrone asked, addressing Keric for he knew that Joseph was too happy about their victory to think straight.
"Maybe... but we won. Now, we've got our names out there," Keric remarked.
"So, what happens now?" Tyrone inquired.
"Not sure... I know that we'll each of single matches next week... Do you think you'll handle it okay?"
Tyrone nodded. Almost immediately, Joseph jumped forward, putting his arm around his brothers' shoulders.
"Come on, Ricky. We never lose! One..."
"Two..."
"Three..."
They howled!
...
Well... that's chapter one. Tell if it's good or bad. Let me know if you want it continued-more importantly, for the single matches, let me know who the opponents should.