This Is Definitely The Best John Cena Fan Fiction We’ve Ever Read
I've always wondered what the rules were for a WWE writer. Like, what are the limits of the reality you're working with? If The Undertaker can come back from the dead (which I feel like he's done on numerous occasions), what's to stop someone from writing an alien abduction into a Monday Night Raw plotline? Or a ring haunted by evil referees? Or a folding chair crafted with elven steel that gives everlasting life to those hit by it?
I'm spitballing stupid ideas here, but you get the point. So does whoever wrote this breathtaking bit of John Cena fan fiction. This person (who I'm assuming is a guy, because duh) decided it'd be fun to see John Cena meet an untimely death, only to restart his wrestling career where it left off in the Norse afterworld.
Yes, it's as awesome as it sounds, and no, Jon Stewart does not sabotage Cena's match against Krathnar The Invincible.
[Reddit] Another gigantic hand hammered into John's shoulder, but this time he was ready and did not stumble. The crowd had roared with laughter when Vismar the Red had made Cena almost fall to the floor, as he had "merely" welcomed him with a clap on the back and John had not dared stumble since.
These men, these gigantic men, they loomed over John and slopped their foul smelling alcohol on him as they cheered him and pulled him through the crowd. This was a dream, it must be a dream, but as tightly as he screwed his eyes up, or pinched himself, the world did not go away.
John had always been one of the largest men in the room, but the average height here was approaching seven feet tall and the muscles were hard knots that had been earned by swinging heavy meta, not by pumping iron. it didn't make sense, none of it made sense, he was supposed to be flying to Orlando for a veterans match against Randy, not here, not... wherever he was.
He looked down at his hands again, they were smooth and felt strong, like they had when he was twenty nine and at his physical peak. He flexed his fingers and watched as each muscle in his arm responded in kind, it was... incredible. His body was sculpted, tight, ready to go, he hadn't felt this good in... in decades.
"JOHN CENA" The voice boomed across the room and made John's head snap up, he'd barely paid attention to where he was going since his arrival, but now the men in front cleared to the side and made a path. Ahead was a gigantic gilded throne and on it was the most massive man John had ever seen.
The voice was like trucks accelerating in a tunnel, deep, booming and indicating incredible power. "GREETINGS JOHN OF CENA, YOU ARE MUCH WELCOMED HERE IN VALHALLA"
The crowd was suddenly silent and the huge men seemed to be awaiting his response. He smiled weakly. "Okay, hi." There was a moment's pause and the crowd roared in laughter.
On his throne the huge man wiped away a tear and nudged the man nearest him "FORSOOTH! CLASSIC CENA, JUST CLASSIC!"
The men still laughed and John looked around, confused. "I don't... I don't really get it. What's going on here?"
Finally the laughter subsided and the huge man controlled himself. "VERILY, I AM SORRY JOHN, WE SHOULD NOT LAUGH, BUT WE HAVE FOLLOWED YOU FOR MANY YEARS IN YOUR BATTLES AND... WELL, WE'RE PRETTY HUGE FANS."
This place was getting to him; John slowly turned and took it in. there were faces all around, bright and eager to hear what he had to say, but... they were warrior men, huge leather-bound and covered in scars. He'd come here on a horse with a fat woman and he was in the body he'd owned many year ago. "I'm dead?"
There was a silence and the room was suddenly filled with eyes that would not meet his. "INDEED, I KNOW THAT IT IS HARD FOR A WARRIOR TO ACCEPT, BUT YOU HAVE BEEN BROUGHT TO VALHALLA MY SON, WHERE THE REWARD FOR A LIFE TIME OF BATTLES IS TO FEAST AT THE SIDE OF ODIN!"
Slowly things began to make sense to John - this was a gig. He'd seen these expressions day in and day out on the road, wide eyed and excited. These were fans and he was here to perform. Dead, dreaming, it didn't matter, all that mattered was that he was here to entertain. For forty three years John had stepped into the ring and left it all out there and now it was time to do it again.
The crowd had begun to murmur, but silence sharply fell as his hand shot into the air, fingers splayed. With great care, John reached down and deliberately paused, before pumping up his sneakers twice and then jumping to his feet.
"You brought me here to Feast Odin? You think I want to spend me days getting fat and slow? What? You wanna go? I'm here to battle, I'm here to fight, you betta take fright, because I'm Mister Friday Night!" The old words came back easily, the promo flowing as it always had.
Odin leaned over to the man nearest him and whispered excitedly. "THIS IS GOING TO BE GOOD, LOOK, HE'S GETTING ALL WORKED UP AND HE'S..." John ripped off his shirt. "OOH, I KNEW HE WAS GOING TO DO THAT, I TOTALLY WAS JUST ABOUT TO SAY IT."
"Stuff that old man, I came here to get busy and all I see here are a bunch of old men and..." he paused and confusion crept into his voice. "What looks to be my accountant Ted in the corner." Ted waved miserably to John. "So am I gonna get a match or what?"
Odin smiled widely. "INDEED JOHN, WE HAVE BEEN PREPARING FOR MANY YEARS. AS ONE OF THE BRAVEST WARRIORS IN EARTH'S HISTORY, WE HAVE PREPARED A MATCH SUITABLE TO YOUR LEVEL."
The crowd parted again and a gigantic man walked forward, over eight feet tall and with muscles bigger than John's head. His sword was nearly five feet long and seemed to split the air with a slight tearing noise. He was bound from head to foot in spiked metal armor, with only his face showing, allowing John to see his scarred face, teeth sharpened to spikes and a demonic smile.
Odin waved his hand casually. "OF COURSE, IT WILL NEED TO BE A BATTLE WITH SOMETHING ON THE LINE, SO WE WILL PIT YOUR IMMORTAL SOUL AGAINST KRATHNAR THE INVINCIBLE'S. OH AND HONESTLY JOHN, WE'RE SUPER EXCITED FOR THIS, WE'VE BEEN WAITING FOR AGES, SO TRY NOT TO FINISH HIM OFF TOO QUICKLY."
John deflated, "Wait, what? What do you mean immortal soul?"
"OH DON'T WORRY, HE'S NO UNDERTAKER, JUST PUT ON A QUICK MATCH, BREAK HIM IN TWO AND WE CAN GET TO FEASTING. WATCH OUT FOR THAT SWORD THOUGH, IT'S DAMN SHARP." Odin chuckled. "NOT THAT YOU'LL BE WORRIED I'M SURE."
John backed away. "And I don't get a weapon at all?"
The crowd roared with laughter and even Krathnar smiled. Odin leaned forward with a grin "OH JOHN, ALWAYS WITH THE QUIPS. CLASSIC CENA"
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