Post by Deleted on Jun 15, 2014 8:02:34 GMT -5
Speak to me, friend.
Whisper, I'll listen.
I know, I know
You’ve been locked out of sight
All these years!
Like me, my friend!
Well, I've come home
To find you waiting!
Home,
And we're together...
And we'll do wonders...
Won't we...?
The old beaten down gm filters light through split blinds that hang precariously from hooks screwed haphazardly into the framing, dust particles dance in the streams of light and the sun itself highlights the layers of neglect across the floorboards leading the centre of the room. There sits a full size show ring, which has very clearly seen better days, the canvas buckles and bows in spots and the ropes have lost their elasticity almost entirely.
The ropes quickly prove they have life in them yet however, as a body bounces off of them, scuffing of boots across the rough and worn mat is met with the slap of skin on skin, a flash of two-tone hair reveals one of the men in the ring to be Alex Jones, who quickly and easily throws his ring-mate on his head.
As the impact reverberates and then dies in the room, a small tapping sound can be heard, foot on floorboard and off to the side of the ring, sits Ana Valentine. Her long, lithe frame stretches out, sitting back arched against a metal fold-away chair. Her long red hair is pulled back and atop her head in a messy bun. She holds a small piece of paper in her hands and her eyes are roaming it endlessly, reading the words again and again and again.
“HEY! Daydreamer! You planning on working out at all today?” Alex’s tone is light and full of laughter as he calls over to her.
Ana sighs inwardly and folds the piece of paper in two, closing her hand over it to conceal it for the most part, she then glances up, and her eyes meet Alex’s. She tries to force a smile on her face but he knows better, turning to his ring-mate, he holds up a finger asking for a minute.
Alex slips between the top and middle ropes and strolls over to Ana, she flusters trying to find somewhere to stow the letter but he is upon her quicker than her mind can move in the moment. Dropping to a knee beside her, he frowns before pulling a face.
“What’s going on?” his question isn’t forceful, but concerned.
“Nothing...” Ana shakes her head, but his eyes move to the note.
Ana sighs and nods her head slightly to herself, as though mentally accepting the inevitable, before she extends her hand to him, offering him the piece of paper that had garnered every moment of her attention since she had opened it this morning.
“Everything they told you is a lie...” Alex’s tone changes to one of confusion and question very quickly “I have waited a decade, I hope that’s long enough. You need to know the truth. A.”
Alex turns his whole body to look at Ana, who has clenched her jaw, her eyes are steely, hard as though daring him to laugh or mock the letter. Alex hands it back to her quietly and just looks into her eyes, not uttering a word until she is forced to break the silence.
“It’s sick.” Alex’s eyes widen in shock as Ana spits the words out “I always knew there were sick people in this world, but this... This is ABHORRENT!”
Ana’s whole body shakes with the rage of her words as she screws the letter up into the palm of her hand, creating a fist around it. Her eyes move to meet Alex’s once more, his face a picture of concern as he watches the rage begin to build inside her.
“You’re sure it’s a joke...?” Alex almost whispers the words, which barely leave his mouth.
“She is DEAD Alex... I saw her; I watched them take her away... I watched them BURY her!” Ana’s breath breaks as she pants through her anger “It’s never enough for these people...”
Tear spring to the corner of Ana’s eyes and Alex’s hand moves over hers, he holds the fist balled around the letter and his thumb grazes the back of her hand softly. She turns her head away from him, not wanting to look him in the eye and stares intently at his hand caressing hers instead.
“It’s happened before?” His voice is hesitant, soft.
“Once... When I first broke into the industry... Turned out to be some obsessed fan of Amy’s from back in the day...” Ana’s voice is sad, low, as she whispers the words.
“I’m sorry-“ the apology hasn’t even left Alex’s mouth –
Ana pushes up from the chair, it scrapes across the floor as her feet fall heavy stomp like, and she flings the paper to the floor and marches outside to get some air. Alex remains on his knee for a moment, watching her leave he sighs sadly.
As Alex pulls himself to his feet, he leans down and scoops the letter off the floor, slipping it inside his gym bag as he passes it, before jumping back up onto the apron of the battered old ring to continue his work out.
In the world of the devil, chaos rules. Satan is an inspiration and love knows no existence.
Light is extinguished like a flickering candle with no fight against that of a cool breeze, and the warmth of love disappears, to be replaced by cold terror. And they descend, dark shadows hovering like vultures, silently waiting, invading your dreams, your thoughts, your soul. Destroying your very being, everything you are and everything you thought you could be.
The world changed forever the day the devil chose to dance with me. Embracing my enemy tightly, seductively, sucking the life from all who surrounded me, and making my life his own. Ensnaring me in a world which was unfamiliar, a world where people got what they wanted, no matter the means or the consequence A world where . If you can’t get it yourself, then just take it from someone else. It doesn't matter who you step on, there are no loyalties, no love... as long as nobody steps on you. Life is fast, cruel and dangerous.
The devil's hold is hypnotic, mesmerizing. Don't be fooled, there is no escape, he will make you feel that you are the only one for him, that you are the only one who can satisfy him. That he is the only one who can satisfy you.. I have seen his chaos and tasted his acid hatred. I have felt the tremendous force of his existence and the power of his reign.
Heaven, I have not yet seen. Hell, I have lived.
Ana Valentine stands at the back of that same dusty old gym, her eyes trained on the two men in the ring as Alex is now going through the motions of a practice match with a new opponent. She watches in what she attempts, she hopes appears to be a casual fashion.
Her right hand is curled around the soft rose coloured rosary, her one remaining token of memory of her mother, her fingers twist and stroke the smooth marble of the bead as she sighs, turning her head to the side. She watches the tiny particles of dust that dance within the sun’s rays, some dancing in small groups and other alone.
She watches this for a short time, trying to ignore the nagging feeling in her stomach, or perhaps her heart, which pulls at her. Her eyes once again trail to the ring, but Alex is no longer inside it, he is approaching her. As he reaches her, he takes a stand at the wall beside her and speaks without looking at her.
“I hate when you get like this...” A statement of fact, not an observation or question “It reminds me of before, when you shut everyone out... When it happened...” His voice trails off.
Ana turns her head but can see only the side of his face as he refuses to look at her, she knew it was painful for her to think about, to talk about, but not once had she ever considered the effect her actions had, had on others around her.
“You didn’t even really know me then...” And that was a fact too –
Alex and Ana had been employed by the same company and that was where there common denominators had ended. She couldn’t recall a single conversation she had with him before that night – but he had been there, when other people should have been.... He was the one who... Saved her, when others who claimed to love her had already turned away.
“I knew you Ana – we didn’t talk, but I knew you...” He turns to look at her as the words flow almost without his consent “You told yourself you were alone because it made it easier... And I – Let you believe it because, like everyone else, I didn’t see how bad it was...”
He sighs as she looks away, her refusing to look at him now, they had never really talked about it, and it had always been an understanding between them... She noticed, through a sideways glance, that he had closed his eyes... Was he picturing it? That awful night 8 months ago? She didn’t have to close her eyes to see it... Every night it haunted her...
{We go backstage to Ana Valentine’s locker room, the door is half closed and she sits, on the floor, her knees pulled halfway up, head dropped to her chest. She is still wearing her ring gear... Unable to bring herself to make even the effort to change.
She sighs heavily and lifts her head; a single tear slips down her cheek, as she just sits... Barely breathing, barely moving looking around at the same four walls. As though remembering for a moment that she’s still alive, she blinks slowly and grabs at the bottle beside her, she stares deftly at it; Ana looks almost bemused by its emptiness – though it explains the focus missing from her eyes. As she stares at the wall, she begins a slow rant, to no one but herself.}
Ana Valentine: Not a monster... I wanted to believe that but... Letting it all in is too much... Feeling it is too much. I would rather be a monster than what I am now... Nothing... Empty... Trying to be numb again.
{She drops her hand to the side and releases the bottle, the glass makes a clinking noise as it rolls away from her and she just watches it, shaking her head slowly. It is only then we notice the cell phone at her feet, lit up and clearly on speaker phone... But the person on the other side doesn’t respond, just half sighs as she continues.}
Ana Valentine: Even Amber Richards has people in her corner... Did you see that?! Even when I’m the best, it’s not enough... It will never be enough, because I’m not good enough... I’m not good at all...
{Ana pulls a small bottle from her pocket, the orange tinted plastic is pharmaceutical and she shakes it as though to count the pills on sound, as taps her finger on the lid, it sounds as though the person on the other end of the phone is about to speak. She hits end on the call and kicks the phone away from her, popping the top from the bottle and emptying the contents into her hand.
It appears to take only a moments decision... A moment’s bad decision thanks to the alcohol already in her system to slip back into that old abyss... As she slumps back against the wall, the final few pills that stuck to her skin roll to the floor. Ana doesn’t move or react, she simply lies against the wall, unblinking, unmoving. And in one terrifying moment you wonder if this time, she’s slipping too far.}
Marina, now lady to... nope, woman to... uh..
XX Chromosome to XX Chromosome – let’s not be so tacky and tired as to regurgitate the same tired lines of sexual promiscuity, or about you’re prettier/smarter/funnier/nicer/sweeter/whatthefuckever than me.... Honestly, I don’t really give a damn that you’re in this match, you’re dirt. Dust. So entirely inconsequential to me that I barely bothered to look into you... Although, I’m kinda glad I did...
Do you actually speak like that all the time? Doesn’t it get boring constantly sounding like a coached pageant brat?! Don’t you ever wanna just open your mouth and sound like a person... I know Marina, this may come as a HUGE shock to what is undoubtedly a delicate little system... But, you aren’t fooling anyone ‘sweetie’.
I actually questioned my own sense of humanity whilst watching your latest promo and, allow me to explain this VERY clearly – I have about one-half a shred of humanity left.. I wouldn’t recommend you snap it... It’s just about the only thing that’ll keep me from snapping you... See, I know it’s overdone and boring and what someone like you would probably call “passé” but... The demon isn’t inside me, he (or she) isn’t clawing to get out and screaming for blood...
Doc was step one, you are one third of step two and I am completely accepting of the fact that when I step into that ring, the demon has to be released, she has to be fed... And this time, the demon’s feed is not personal... I do not hold you in the regard that I hold Doc – in fact, unfortunately for you, I don’t hold you in any regard at all.
As far as this match goes, you’re disposable, you are no one and so you will serve as fodder, as sacrifice to the demon, so that they may satiate their hunger with you, whilst I take care of those who matter – not to me, of course – but to the drooling morons who pay to fill seats.
Don’t take it personally “honey”, because this is the furthest thing from personal... Will I take enjoyment in twisting that pretty little blonde head of yours so far back the scream you emit is nothing but blood bubbling in your throat..? Most definitely. The pleasure I will take in turning you into just another example of the reckoning that comes for those who wrong me fills me with a pleasure no one and nothing can compare to...
But it is not because that pain will be inflicted you, Marina. It is purely and simply because it will be inflicted and they will be watching... Scott Savage will sit and he will see that the girl, the child he cruelly rapped his hands around – the frail little things he tried to destroy, does not exist anymore and instead, what comes for him, what lies in wait is something so abhorrently evil, something so blood thirsty, so hungry for his screams... That it, that he... THAT I will do WHATEVER I takes, I will destroy whomever they put in my way... just to taste the sweet nectar of his blood on my lips...
I hope that offers you some comfort Marina, when your little high you have been riding is ground back into the muck where you belong... I hope you can take solace, must like I hoped for Doc, in the fact that I will leave you walking, I will permit you the mercy of walking away.... Something they did not permit me.
I get it now... The monster I thought was, is not a monster at all... Not anything, but a puppet whose strings lie in the hands of the devil. All that I have done, what I have become... Is shame and lies and deceit and desperation to be something more - anything more - than the legacy that came before me?
But numb can be more than nothing, more than empty and I can't feel it anymore. I cannot trust, cannot love, and cannot lie with a smile anymore... Because they can see through it, the mask has fallen to the ground and like a mirror shattered into a thousand pieces, the tears in my eyes reflect within it and there is nothing I can say, to make it better.
I have destroyed the lives of those I loved the most and turned my back on those when they needed me... Instead of rising from the ashes of another's fire, I set my own and with it, the hearts of so many burnt up too - Can I take it back? Is there still time.. Can I be the person I always wanted to be?
No.
The damage is done and I am the damaged one. There is no Saviour anymore, no light... But still there is the resurrection to come...
Johnny Reb... A name that’s been whispered in a revered way long before I can recall hearing any other during my times here – you and I we’ve had... Zero contact. In fact, I’d wager you don’t really even know who the hell I am... And that’s just fine with me – because it means no expectations...
As, uneducated and rhetoric as the presumptions that will be made by our fellow “competitors” are, they are based on some... half truths of previous performances – have I been one to cheat? Sure... everyone dabbles, but was I ever willing to go too far? Was I ever really willing to inflict serious pain on an opponent...?
No.
But then, I’d never really had serious pain inflicted upon me. You’re right in some of the things you say, this is a different WCF now, things are calmer, everyone glides along behaving as though the violence and hatred on which these foundations were built are no longer prevalent, they are no longer “What it’s all about”....
Well, I’m calling bullshit.
You can talk about the purity of competition, you can go into the longs and shorts of your opponents and do as much research as you can muster... It won’t make a damn bit of difference - WCF isn’t the same and neither am I, this isn’t about picking up a win and walking away with a smile on my face... This isn’t about chasing after some tacky piece of gold to sling around my waist so I can call myself the best.
You, are chasing something you lost a long time ago... Yeah, you were world Champion once upon a time woo-fucking-hoo Reb, the past is the past and you haven’t exactly been doing a great job of proving yourself still relevant now have you? See me – I take my past, I embrace it and I better it... This time around I didn’t just beat your ol’ buddy Doc Henry.
I made him tap.
And there’s a hunger burning, for you Reb, deep inside my stomach, it fires from my lions and it moves all the way up to my throat like a never ending thirst, it cannot be quenched, it will not be abided, it MUST be fed and the only elixir it wants... Is your screams when you tap too....
See, unlike our opponents, you are NOT inconsequential, you are not disposable and interchangeable with any other face from the roster.. No. You and your legacy represent the very thing I will bring down, the very thing I lust, I yearn, and I NEED to destroy. And it really doesn’t matter what side of the fence you are on when it comes to allies, it doesn’t matter to me if your heads up Doc’s ass or S-PAC’s... What matters to me is that you stand for them.
You stand for WCF, you want integrity and beauty and... Purity. There is nothing pure about violent in its absolute, there is nothing pre about hatred and anger and vengance, there is nothing pure about ME and this.. Sport... This career, it is not that to me! To me, it is a chance to gain the retribution I not only want, but that I deserve.
And you, you are the REAL step two, you are the one I have to beat, the one I must annihilate if I am to prove that I am worthy of step three.... You have to be the one who can barely pull to feet they should be thankful for, you are the one who will bleed for me, and it will be your tears that I taste when the pain is so enormous it racks your entire body until you just give out....
And it MUST be YOU...
Not because I want it, not because it demands it... But because you are the very epitome of everything I seek to grind into nothingness. Legacy... Name... And skill, you have it, you use it and you play the game well, but – for the most part – you play by the rules and they need to learn Johnny, see, they need to understand that WCF doesn’t play by the rules... There is no honour among thieves and what are we if not stealing from one another?
Stealing spotlight... Stealing Screams... Stealing careers.
So now, I come for you, though there may be others in the ring with us and though they may put up a fight, it is you I want, it is you I will take and it is you; who will tap.
I don't know who I am anymore. I am a shell of the girl I used to be and I can't sell the image of a monster, to my broken soul for a moment longer. I can remember, all the promises I made the day Amy died... the day I found her, there, alone... Needle still fresh and tourniquet still tied... But I can't feel them, the emotion inside that should house those words has vacated me and left in its place a gaping, cold and empty hole... How can I ever hope to start again, when it feels as though a piece of me has been torn away? Why should I change?! What's so bad about the numb, the empty and the cold - of being dead inside? What's so great about love... and care... and letting people in only for them to hurt you all over again.... No matter how many times or how many people say it won’t be that way!? How is it better to open up your being and let boot after boot stomp down your soul until you are nothing...
Until you really do want it all to end....
I didn't....
But sometimes I think it would be ok... If it had all gone away.... I want to live.... I always wanted to live.
But feel...? Connect...? Love....?
I don't know, I don't know if I am even capable of those things any more.... How do you go back? You can't. Hurt is hurt. And done is done. Not everything can be fixed with an 'I'm sorry'. It isn't always enough to recite the three words that are supposed to make it all ok.... Sometimes... Sometimes I don't want to lie, I don't want to say I love and feel and weep and pray and need and long and...
Sometimes... I am not human at all....
Does that mean I am a monster....? Not really, I suppose. Just lost. Lost within a world of my own creation, where there is no love. Where those who smile do so as deceit, where even a woman whose love is on her lips, is really just a whore of my enemy... How can I trust when all I have let in have betrayed me....
Is it too late? Can I really rise from the ashes of my very soul and burn brightly like I did before.... Or will I fall, like a bird with clipped wings and tailspin back into this pit of lost and despair....
I guess, I won’t know until I try
[6 Months Ago]
As soon as one eye opens and then the other, I can feel something is wrong... The drum like pounding in my head is entirely unbearable the desert waste land I am supposedly calling my mouth is like chewing on cotton balls.
It takes me a few moments to open my eyes and full realize that there is another body in my bed... As my eyes focus I groan and curse myself inwardly, the two-tone hair confirms almost immediately my greatest concern. We won’t be able to just smile and shrug it off this time...
“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” I whisper this to myself as I attempt to slip from the bed without disturbing him.
The mattress moves and shifts as I remove my weight from t though, as it would – of course – and I flinch, screwing my eyes tight shut as I freeze, half out the bed, half in it. My only saving grace being that he clearly consumed equal amounts of alcohol, as he doesn’t stir, just rolls onto his back and emits a half snore.
I catch myself smiling as I watch him lie there and shake myself back to reality... Before grabbing a shirt from the floor and throwing it over my head, tip-toeing from the room and out into the little kitchenette area – I was pretty sure the only reason I continued to travel with the show and be put up was because my court appointed therapy was their employee, but whatever, it worked out pretty well... Until this past month.
“Ana?” his voice is sleepy and I shrink into myself in a panic.
Trying to quickly arrange my face into something of a casual smile I turn and regard him, stretching himself out his muscles ripple in that ridiculously attractive way that they do and for a second... I forget why this is a bad idea... Don’t worry, the sensible voice in my head bitch-slaps me back to reality pretty damn fast.
“Heyyyyy” god that was awful... What’s wrong with my voice?!
Alex pulls a face that essentially asks the same question and I smile, unable to really offer a response, he approaches the kitchenette and leans over me to switch on the coffee maker, god... he smells good, what is that? ...Focus Ana.
His hand is suddenly on my hip and I can feel my heart beating in my throat, I am sure he can see it too, I can feel it there, pulsing and I think, I know... I am going to be sick. I am an idiot... How could I NOT see this coming!? He leans in and brushes some hair that has stuck itself to my cheek back behind my ear, he smiles and for the longest second I am totally lost in the way the smile touches his eyes. But then he does it – he leans in and
“I can’t!” it basically comes out as a yelp and Alex jumps back “I – I mean...” I stutter, what the fuck do I mean? “I... You’re... Alex you’re amazing and... Wow, this is WAY harder than I thought...”
I can’t find the words, even in my head everything is tripping over itself, I want to, I do – he’s so much more than just the guy who saved me – so much more than just someone who sees me as a charity case and when he looks at me, I don’t see pity... He believes in me but...
“I don’t believe in myself” I blurt it out as though it’s an explanation.
It isn’t and if he didn’t look hurt before, he does now... He has one of those faces, y’know.... Where the eyes betray absolutely everything and right now I wish I wasn’t so damn good at reading them... He laughs, but it’s one of those awful defence mechanism, ‘I don’t care’ laughs men do when you metaphorically kick them in the balls and internally I flinch.
I try to grab his hands, keep his focus on me... I want to explain... I need to explain but he pulls his hands free, shaking his head at me, I can see it, there on his lips all the things he wants to say to me but is too good a man to say them, I know what he thinks, how he feels used – wasted – unwanted right now...
“I.... I wouldn’t be any good for you right now... I am not any good for me right now...” I’m broken, that’s what I want to say, but he already knows that. “I don’t want to lose you Alex – and last night was...”
“Save it.” He turns away and I suddenly feel like I wish I could see his face no matter how much that hurts “You can’t lose what you never had Ana....”
He turns back on me but his face is blank, emotionless. A horrible pit like feeling slams into my stomach and I no longer feel sick, I feel nothing, I can’t breathe... This is what I do... Hurt people, it’s been my trade for as long as I can recall... But he was never someone I wanted to hurt...
“You’re right, we’re better off as friends... I value you too much to spoil it.” The words are deadpan.
I want to reach out but I know better, I push it down, all of it. I have no right to explain, to tell him how my hearts beating faster every time he smiles. I chew on my lip so as to bite down the words that tell him, that his smells, his touch, are the only things I open my eyes for any more... But I’m not ready and who the hell am I to ask him to wait?
So I nod my head quietly and agree I just want him there... Selfish. But I need it and I almost say that, but when I pull myself back from my own thoughts he’s already gone, so instead I pour myself that coffee.... Destroying someone who loves me? Just another day.
Terry, Terry, Terry.... Unlike Maria, you are not simply – nothing – your presence has... lingered in WCF for a surmountable time. And, most unlike Reb, there is, well, no legacy to destroy.. No whispered name and idolized victories... There is just you.
The interloper, the obnoxious presence of a bug who thinks himself a falcon... Well tweet tweet little birdie are you ready to have your wings ripped clean off? – Yeah I suck at analogies, so let’s just cut down to it shall we? Why you’re here, why you insist on sticking to the sides of greatness and leeching it praying, hoping it will somehow come to you is beyond me – I applaud you for trying, but the free ride ends here.
I don’t care what you’ve done or been or achieved, you’re a number, a 4th person in this match that means absolutely nothing to me.. Any victories you’ve had, any titles you’ve held, any way you are planning and on attempting to downplay the facts stated, are meaningless to me – It doesn’t matter to me what you think you are, because you are simply an obstacle.
And a poor one at that.
You will not be the man who stops me from taking the next step. You will not be the one to keep me from the path I am on, the retribution I crave, the vengeance that needs to be taken is bigger than you, it is bigger than this match and when it is over – when I am called the victor and I move forward... You will be nothing but dust in the rear view...
I will stand up and I will show the world what you are and I will do it with a laugh in my heart, there is no saving you Terry, there will be no mercy for the likes of you. Much the same as the others, you will scream, you will bleed and you will beg. And when I stand above you, glaring down with a smile on my lips and a song in my heart, you will try to quench the thirst, your blood will spill for my lips but I will not taste you... I will not degrade my demon with the muck in your veins.
It will spill and it will be for nothing, because you are for nothing... And it will be my voice that whispers it in your ear, your last coherent thought before the pain and the suffering bought down upon you, carries you off into the abyss.
There was a time, a long, long time ago, when the word of man meant something. When the promises made by those who stood before a crowd were promises, not simply empty words emitted to fill a void. Not many remember this time; there have been many who worked to destroy it. Many are afflicted with false promises. In their minds, these promises are true. They speak of their destiny, their hopes and dreams. It is sad, that lying unbeknownst to them are we. We, who are of strength, and dignity, who carry our words with poise and truth, who are stronger, I have never spoken a word less than truth, every time I stand before the crowd, I make a promise and I come through. Can any of you say the same?
Likely yet unlikely at best, it seems so typical to be back in the same place. To be the underdog, the doubted, the miscounted.... Every time someone says I can't, I do... Yet they keep saying it, keep doubting me. How long will it be until the world is rid of the doubters and the fools? People who think that entertainment is the deal of hate... That they are free to do as they please because they have appeared on television...? It seems to me like a simple matter of taste... a matter of those who do not have the quality of consciousness, understanding the difference between being religious and being righteous! We all deal in sin, in filth and in self-hatred. Not one of us can claim that we are pure... but does that mean that not a one of us has integrity? No... Of course not! There is a line, a line many do not dare but cross, not because of faith or sin, but because it is Wrong! There is wrong and there is right, regardless of everything in this world, we can all agree that there is that. For a man or any person in fact, to strike down another with intent of destruction and hate.... for the sheer enjoyment of it, for no reason but the kick... Is that wrong? Perhaps it goes beyond wrong and delves into the depths of sickness, of black, emptiness.... It is not a case of sin, of sex, of filth, of degradation;, but I have lost all grasp of understanding and morality, there is nothing left now but the heat of the flames, the lick of desire to see those who wronged me suffer and if that be the devil... Then I embrace even that devil....And so be it, if that is wrong.
