Post by Teo Blaze on Feb 19, 2017 13:57:55 GMT -5
Part 1- The Platform
The air is filled with an unimaginable stench as the scene comes slowly into view. Though the viewer may not be able to physically experience the aroma, the sight that greets him tells the story of the foul odor almost more than a physical sensation could. A dirt and grime caked stone wall overlooks a tile platform, both covered in every substance imaginable. Bright reds and blues dance along the surfaces of each, claiming it for a gang or perhaps merely expressing an unexpressable desire on the part of the artist, who can say?
The dirty tunnel is filled with a collection of equally unappealing people, from austere businessmen who shuffle official papers officiously and cast sidelong glances at the patchy coated homeless man sitting on a square of cardboard to salacious women of the night whose harlequin painted faces invite either desire or revulsion.
According to taste of course.
Every few minutes, a long, snake-like train explodes from the tunnel at the end of the platform, blasting into existence and taking with it its guests for the evening. Swallowing them and taking them to home, to work, maybe to both.
And it is onto this sordid scene that his night begins. For a loud and familiar voice echoes throughout the stairway leading to the platform, and the camera slowly pans towards it to reveal the long-suffering face of Teddy Blaze. He leans on the railing for balance, but every step threatens to hurl him headlong into the oncoming path of the monster in the tunnel. Yet the half-filled bottle in his hand seems to suggest that even that would bring a welcome respite.
The weeks had not been easy on the once greatest People’s Champion, and the wobbly stride which carries him to the platform floor demonstrated more than words ever could. He limply steps off the bottom stair, legs finally failing him as his knees buckle, if not for the railing he would plunge headfirst over the platform, perhaps to oblivion, more likely to salvation.
According to taste of course.
It is a sad state of affairs for our hero, as he slowly pushes himself up to his feet, pulling on the end of the railing to make sure. Perhaps if a police officer dared to embark into the cavernous tunnel, he would see fit to make sure that the young man could still stand. Unfortunately it had been years since any authority figure had been brave or stupid enough to walk into the den of filth.
Blaze slowly pushes his glasses back onto his nose with his left hand as he raises the bottle with his right. The label has been torn off, a nervous habit he had carried with him for years. He had always been full of energy, and whether a water bottle or a pepsi, he had loved to scratch the labels off as he drank. Something to do, perhaps, or maybe just to see what was underneath. To see the bottle completely uncovered. Real. Who knows?
He takes in his surroundings with a somewhat halfhearted grin, smiling at the ladies who offer seductive waves and the businessmen who shoot looks of contempt. How could they understand?
When he had been internet champion he almost never had to defend the belt. People would praise him for his title reign without ever giving him any accolade. A gimmick belt. A toy. Why couldn’t he move beyond such petty trifles and do something worthwhile?
Worthwhile. What a joke.
He had long since lost his chance at worthwhile, that much was obvious. Now he was just afloat.
Keeping his head above water.
For no reason.
Nobody really cared if he sank.
They were too busy trying to climb on top of him.
He slowly raises the bottle to his lips for another drink when a loud noise suddenly snaps him out of his reverie. With a sidelong glance he looks over to see the homeless man, who has bent to pick up a handful of change. An unsavory looking young man in torn jeans and a denim jacket has tossed it down to the floor with a wicked smile. He watches the homeless man pick up the petty coins for a few moments before placing a boot in his ribs and shoving him with a jeering laugh. The homeless man let’s out a wheezing cry as the young man mockingly points and laughs.
Blaze has seen enough. He drops the bottle and begins purposefully striding towards the young man, tapping him on the shoulder.
The young man whirls and looks at the strangely dressed intruder, cocking an eyebrow in confusion.
Young man: Yo! What the fu-
That is all that he has the time to get out, as Blaze slams a right hand across his jaw, swinging with more effort than he has put into anything in the past few months. The man’s eyes momentarily roll back in his head and he spins towards the tile floor face first. Blaze shakes the pain out of his right hand and goes to check on the fallen homeless man.
Teddy Blaze: You alright old timer?
The homeless man looks up at him with apprehension, and Blaze shrugs his shoulders, beginning to say something, but the homeless man suddenly points over Blaze’s shoulder.
Blaze barely has time to spin around before a gleam of silver flashes in front of him. He goes to throw another punch, but is barely able to raise his arm before an unbelievable pain shoots through his entire torso.
He looks down to see a thin red line beginning to trace its way across his black shirt. But he has no time to think. His vision begins to get blurry as the young man advances on him. He holds one hand to his stomach and pushes the other in the wall.
No.
This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. How many of these muggers had he outwitted? How many would-be tough guys had he felled with one punch? He desperately pushes away from the wall, out towards the platform as the young man walks forward, the gleam of silver still clutched in his right hand. Blaze desperately paws at the air, but there is nothing to grab onto.
With one last look at the bright lights, he falls off of the platform.
The young man’s eyes widen in surprise as Blaze falls from beyond his reach, and he stares out in shock.
The people scream, noticing the blood dripping onto the floor, and the young man looks around in confusion.
Blaze, meanwhile, finally slips from consciousness moments before he hits.
Landing on the floor of the subway train, whose doors close in front of him as he slams into the cold hard metal floor.
Perhaps if he had fallen even a minute earlier, he would have landed on the rail.
Would have been able to experience the shock of the third rail.
Leading to oblivion.
Or to peace.
According to taste.
Part 2- In Memoriam
It’s always the one you don’t see coming.
Standing on a small green hill, there is a bright white stone, emblazoned with a strange symbol, a white wrestling mask whose eyes have been obscured by a pair of shock red glasses.
In front of the stone, there is a deep hole, perfectly square.
And down in the hole, there is a box.
We know what’s inside, don’t we?
And standing on the hill, looking down into the open grave, is Teddy Blaze.
The young man felt what could only be described as an immense feeling of confusion with the entire proceeding.
Looking around, he sees that the hill seems to go on for miles. There are countless stones sticking out from the ground, some with familiar names.
Scarecrow.
Gemini Battle.
Cyborg Bobby Cairo.
That last one in particular seemed kind of farfetched, but he was never one to judge.
Blaze looks up at the clear blue sky, slowly turning a burnt orange. The sun was going down.
He didn’t know how long he sat on that hill watching the sunset, but as it reached the end of its journey, disappearing over the horizon, a sound came from within the grave.
Perhaps in this situation, most would jump up in terror or even begin an exorcism, but for some reason, Blaze couldn’t bring himself to do anything except wait and see what happened.
Within a few moments, a hand appears on the side of the grave, slowly raising itself up. Blaze reaches out and grabs it, pulling the intruder from the grave onto the hill.
And barely is able to keep his grip as his face comes into view.
Standing before him now on the hill, in a white and gold wrestling mask, is Teo del Sol.
The young man dusts off the dirt on his jeans and smiles at Teddy Blaze.
Teo: So.
Teddy Blaze: …so.
Teo: I know, you’re a bit confused. Don’t worry, we all get like that.
Teddy: We?
Teo: You know, the people who come to the other side.
Teddy: I still don’t follow.
Teo: Relax. It won’t do you any good to think too hard about it. Although I admit you’ll certainly have time.
Teddy: You can’t be saying-
Teo: I know, it’s a shocking development. Some random mugger? What a terrible way for our story to end.
Suddenly the flash of silver and the sharp pain rears itself in Teddy’s mind. He takes the glasses off and looks over at the sunrise, the meaning becoming clear.
Teo: We don’t have much time now, the sun has almost set.
Teddy: This can’t be it.
Teo: They all say that too.
Teddy: There’s…there’s so much left to do.
Teo: Come now Teddy, look at how much you’ve already done. In two years you’ve set records, won awards, you have gone entire years while being a champion. If you still have more left to do, what can I tell you?
Teddy: But…Spencer.
Teo suddenly seems very pensive as the name leaves Teddy’s lips, seeming to hang in the air.
Teo: Spencer knows why you did what you did.
Teddy: That’s not good enough. Spencer was the only one who…who stayed with me after the mask came off.
Teo: Ambition is never kind. You wanted to be in Showdown, you got what you wanted. You made your choice.
Teddy: But that’s not good enough!
Teo: It rarely is.
Teddy: And what about Beach Krew? What about Pantheon? Are we just going to let them take over?
Teo: There’s not a lot you can do to stop them now.
Teddy: There’s always something you can do.
Teo: What are you saying, that you want to put the mask back on? To be the hero again? You burned your bridge. It’s over. Besides, your story ended the moment you decided to help that old man.
Teddy: That thug would have probably killed him!
Teo: Well, better you than him, right? Think about it. Isn’t this what you wanted? Isn’t this what you’ve been building up to all this time? You’ve been slowly saying goodbye with each passing week.
Teddy looks at the setting sun, now within inches of clearing the horizon.
Teddy: … I just didn’t know what to do anymore. The people wanted a hero, they wanted someone to be better than they possibly could. They wanted me to be a superhero, to be world champion. They wanted to believe that a guy like me could do anything just by hard work alone. But I never asked for that responsibility. I never wanted to have to fight Joey Flash. Los Tiburones, to fight Dune. I just wanted to make them smile.
But…But it wasn’t that easy. WCF almost folded, and I lost everything. I lost everything that I had put all of my time into, there was nothing more to fight for. No more smiles to be had. I just wanted to make the world a better place.
But the world refused to change.
In one week, the entire thing almost fell apart, and it didn’t matter how many people I had won over, how many records I had broken. All I had was my golden mask and all eyes on me, all wondering how I would cope.
I just couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t keep telling people everything was alright when it so clearly wasn’t.
I had to carry on, the WCF needed me, especially in those dark times, but then Pantheon came back and it was like nothing had ever happened. All the work I put in to make sure that WCF stayed afloat in that period of uncertainty was just gone, replaced by the same people who had driven a knife into its back in the first place.
WCF…it didn’t need me anymore.
So I held onto the internet belt. I fought as hard as I could, I wanted to keep fighting, to keep telling myself that there was a reason, that there was a purpose to my struggle.
But no one cared.
No one ever said good job, or well done. I beat Zombie at One, I beat Gemini Battle, and it was met with a collective shrug.
So I realized then and there…I realized that it didn’t matter what I did, that people would never be happy. I would never be able to change the world, they barely noticed when I did exactly what they wanted me to.
And now…
Now…
Teo: …Now you want to change yourself.
I’m sorry Teddy, but it’s too late.
Teddy stares as the last ray of sunlight disappeared over the horizon.
As darkness began to fill his vision.
As the sun went down for the final time.
Teddy: I don’t believe in too late.
Part 3- Conclusion
The wound had been roughly stitched together, bound as if by a doctor’s hands. He was in pain, would probably have to spend a night in the hospital…
But he was alive.
He looked around the subway car in confusion before a strangely familiar sight welcomed it. The homeless man, asleep against the wall. An open first aid kit next to him, with bloody gauze and supplies scattered near him. Something in particular caught his eyes, and he bent down to examine a small card next to the kit.
On it was a faded picture of a much younger man a much more handsome version of the homeless man, his name, Gerald Smith, and an identification as a licensed military medic. Teo looked down at the card and then at the sleeping old man, considering waking him up, considering asking questions.
But he thought better of it. The card told him all he needed to know. He slowly removed his jacket and placed it over the sleeping man, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small wad of bills, he tucked it beneath the jacket as the car slowly ground to a stop.
The doors opened, and upon looking out, Teo was greeted by a far more welcoming platform. The fluorescent lights shining off the white tile and creating a warm, almost welcoming sight.
With a grin, he gingerly stepped off of the subway train and onto the platform, looking back at Gerald one last time.
Then with a smile, he turned and walked towards the stairs leading back to the city streets.
Ready to start again.