Post by raYne on Dec 30, 2013 17:03:51 GMT -5
"save me now..."
#i_need_a_hero
"When I was younger,
I wish that I would have known better.
Better love makes a fat romance,
that lasts for more than a shoe shine.
I'm older, took all the words of my mother, saying,
It could be worse,
could be born with that disease,
instead of catching it first.
So let's go back, to the first time,
that I met you, in your Chevy,
with your hands stretched,
and me crying, screaming, Mercy. Mercy.
But I know that, I was put here, to fight Vikings
in the cold war, with my arms out,
in the front lines, singing, Dare me.
"Dare me.
. . .
"It feels like this world has been
growing slowly upside down.
Maybe I should move to China,
and straighten this mess out.
"Maybe Ill be a poet.
"Watch all the sky for falling words.
And write about my grandma's curtains,
or the lady who put the Chinese buffet in her purse...
"I've got my mouth.
It's a weapon. It's a bombshell."
|edit/it's a #pipebomb|CM|
"It's a cannon. I've got my words.
I won't give them mercy.
Mercy.
. . .
"I've got my words.
I hope they hurt you.
I hope they scar you.
"I hope they heal you.
"I hope they cut you open,
make you SEE you've been warring
for all the wrong reasons.
"Make you see that some things are worth bruising for.
Make you see that your name is your honor code.
Make you see that your hands, you're accounted for.
Pick and choose where your sweat and your blood will go.
Make you see your life's not to be lived alone.
Run their spit through your hair,
'You're worth nothing.
____ '
"But these things take time, love.
These things take backbone.
And they'll tell you what you want to hear--
Cause they think it's 'better'.
"BUT YOU BETTER KNOW how to point out the liars.
You've got to weigh your wars,
Make sure you're not fighting for nothing... Nothing.
. . .
"Are you fighting for nothing?"
~ Meg. Dia
...&Hannah Jo
= = = = = = =
[NOT3: the following thread is the beginning of everything.
as the days pass, posts will be added.
these are building blocks. &this is but a glimpse.]
= = = = = = =
[2K13EDiT: "who's gonna make them believe..."]
*written in 2k5
expanded in 2k7*
BLACK.2.1.20.
- Location: Nowhere, Oklahoma... Time: 10:22pm... Date: October 31, 1985 -
When Reeve Gordon was a young boy, his favorite holiday was Halloween. He liked the fact that he could dress up as anything he wanted to, and not be stared at, because everyone else was doing the same thing. He could allow his imagination to soar, and for one day, become someone else... One Halloween, when Reeve was eight years old, he had just finished trick-or-treating, and returned to his home in Nowhere, Oklahoma... when he saw his father, Frank, arguing with his mother, Beth. He had always heard them arguing when he was asleep, but this was the first time he'd ever seen it for himself. He heard his mom ask his dad why she saw him with their son's babysitter.
Reeve asked his father, "Did you have fun playing with her daddy? We always have fun together." Beth looked at her husband... angered look on her face. "YEAH, did you have fun 'playing' with her?!", and Frank became so upset he slapped her across the face. She had had enough. She told Reeve that she had to go, but one day, she'd come back for him. Reeve's dad was left with him, but he never took care of him. The babysitter would always come over, and her and Frank would leave Reeve all alone. All he had was the tv... His life centered around wrestling, a company called "XAW", and his favorite wrestler, Javex Valerius. At school, at the age of 14, he felt himself falling in love with a girl by the name of Alexis. He didn't have the courage to tell her though.
After eight years of being with his dad, and at the age of 16, Reeve finally decided he'd had enough of being neglected in favor of his "babysitter". He packed his bags, and headed for the location that XAW held most of its shows, St. Louis. He wanted to get into the business, and he wanted to prove to himself that he wasn't what his dad had always told him he was... that he wasn't worthless. He finally made it there, and got into their training school. He worked hard for three years, and at the age of 19, they called him in for a try-out match.
That's when he met his childhood hero, "The Deite's Dragon", Javex Valerius. Javex saw so match talent in the kid, that he told the owner to make his first match against him. Through TV, Reeve's childhood crush, Alexis, saw Reeve, and came to the arena that night. She had a confession for Reeve... She had a crush on HIM when they were kids. Reeve lost to JVX, but after the show Alexis met with Reeve, and told him. Reeve told her he'd always felt the same about her, so they got together. Though Reeve lost the try-out match, Reeve felt as though he'd won something far more important. Reeve and Alexis were together for two years.
Reeve continued to get better in the ring, but he wasn't able to spend so much time with Alexis. One day, when he was 21, he came home from a match for the developmental program, and found Alexis in bed with Reeve's best friend, Bass Monsoon. Reeve took it extremely harsh... Alexis smiled at Reeve, as she lay next to Bass, in Reeve's bed, in Reeve's house...
She looked him square in the eye, and told him, "You've never satisfied me, Reeve. Not like your 'friend', Bass, can... and did. Not once, not twice, but THREE times. Reeve... you are, were, and always WILL be a failure. And as far as our relationship is concerned? I hope I never even have to SEE you again. I hate you Reeve... and I hope your career dies a miserable death." A single tear trickled down Reeve's cheek... as he left the house, without even once thinking about the fact that it was his. He no longer cared about the house, or his car, or his clothes, or any of his material objects.
All he cared about was revenge.
One night, Alexis and Bass had gone out for a film at the local movie theatre. Half-way through the show, Bass told Alexis that he was going to get a refill on their popcorn. They were the only two in the theatre... and with Bass gone, this left Alexis by herself. She felt a bit nervous, but knew in her mind she didn't have anything to worry about. At least... that's what she thought. The movie, a horror film filled with blood spraying, and guts flying, began to intensify... A young woman was cornered by a gruesome, hideous beast...
As the vile thing came toward her with claws sharpened, and fangs glistening in the light... The movie screen suddenly cut out. And then... the lights returned. At first, Alexis was frightened, but she soon believed this to only be technical difficulties with the projector. Alexis sighed, and began to stand up to go find Bass, and perhaps get their money back... But as she stood, a pair of hands clamped down from behind, pressing down on her shoulders, and slamming her back into her chair. A rag washed in chloroform was held to her mouth... she struggled desperately, and tried to manage a scream, but nothing came... and her eyes slowly fluttered to a close.
Alexis was tied up and dragged to a secluded place in a forest, deep within St. Louis. As Alexis' eyes opened, she found herself sitting in a wooden chair, inside an old log cabin... Before her, she saw a man... face covered by paint, wearing a trenchcoat, and holding a black baseball bat in his right hand. The man asked her, "How does it feel to trick someone, Alexis? To trick someone into believing you feel so much for them... to fool them into loving you back... and then to rip out their heart? How does it feel Alexis? How does it feel to know that person cares so deeply for you... that they would do ANYTHING in the world for you... that when they work, when they bust their ass, they do it for YOU...
"But that in the end? The fact of the matter is you don't give a shit, and that you couldn't care less if they were willing to drive a knife into their very own heart if it were at your command." He stood before her, holding the bat in his hands... He continued to speak, "Death comes for us all... and each of us must heed its beckoning. For our love... death came at your hands... at your calling. For you? Death will be in the hands of the very same person you made suffer... Alexis, your death will be in MY hands... and my big... black... bat." And with that, he took a swing... striking her clean in the side of the head. She fell into a coma, and eventually, police found her. She stayed in the coma for years, but the police never found out who did it.
A 22-year-old Reeve Gordon returned to XAW's training facility, to try and work his way up to the main stage. But this time, he had taken on a completely different attitude. He had taken on the moniker "The ShowMan", due to the location of where his attack on his ex-girlfriend Alexis first began... before leading to the vicous strike to Alexis' skull. He wore the black and white face paint, and the trenchcoat... and carried the black baseball bat. And he started stalking JVX. Everywhere Javex went, he knew someone was following him. Finally, one night Javex had gotten out of a convenience store, and Reeve met him.
He told him that he had always loved Javex in the ring... that he had always wanted to be like him. He even told him that he had feelings for him. Javex laughed, right in Reeve's face. And the next night, right after Reeve had walked away with a victory in a dark match, Javex came out to the ring. He told the fans, from the center of the squared-circle, Reeve's revelation. The entire crowd laughed at Reeve, as he watched from a monitor backstage. Reeve came through the curtains, and stood on the ramp... grabbing a microphone. He told JVX that one day, he would return... and on that day? JVX, and the fans wouldn't be laughing. That he'd prove, once and for all, that he wasn't someone to be laughed at... to be made fun of. He left the arena, and XAW.
Reeve fled to the very same forest he had left Alexis' unconcious body. He started thinking about his life, and how every time he was so close to feeling so great, that it was all taken out from under his feet. His dad had made his mom leave him... his girl had cheated on him with his best friend... and the hero of his childhood had made him into a laughingstock. He decided that he could either let it eat at him, and eat at him, until there was nothing left but a hollow shell...
Or he could Believe. He could Believe that there WAS a light at the end of the tunnel, and that maybe, someway, somehow, he could turn it into a positive. He underwent a transformation. No longer did he allow the hatred to overcome him. No longer was he a victim to the darkness. No longer was he trapped in the closet... He opened up about his sexuality, and in fact, used it as his primary weapon against his opponents. Instead of using rage against them, he'd use physical mind games... And he'd always leave them... with a kiss. The Kiss of Death. A french kiss, so hard, and so strong that it forced them into submission. A mandible claw... with tongue. Reeve entered the XAW training camp once more, and this time, he passed.
Reeve entered the XAW's lead roster at the age of 24, taking on the name 'raYne'. JVX, now a legend in the company, thought it to be ridiculous that raYne would return after being laughed right out of the building. Javex challeneged him to a match... a triple cage match, with JVX's World Title on the line... and if JVX won? Then raYne would leave the company, never to return. raYne had improved drastically... and proved to be a good match for "The Deite's Dragon". They fought to the very top of the triple decker structure, but after a long and arduous fistfight, Javex pummeled raYne to his back.
As Javex reached for the gold, raYne lifted his eyes from the steel mesh, and saw that JVX would soon defeat him... Reeve stood up, and rage began to surge through every facet of his being... He couldn't handle it anymore. He had had enough of always losing everything that meant so much to him... and of JVX continuoslly upstaging him... Reeve quickly grabbed Javex by the throat... Before tossing him from the top of the cage... all the way to the steel ramp below. Cracking JVX's vertebrate in seven places. The crowd was silenced... No laughing. No cheering. Not even booing. Only a stunned silence filled the arena.
Reeve grabbed the title... and in his very first official match with the company, became its top player. JVX's best friend, Vlad, took up for his closest compadre, and began feuding with Reeve, not only for the title, but for Javex's honor. After seeing him last time with Alexis, Reeve found his old best friend, Bass Monsoon, after a show, sitting on the hood of Reeve's car.
Bass told Reeve he was sorry for what he'd done, and wanted to make it up to Reeve. If Reeve would forgive him, Bass would bring in a couple of friends from a competing promotion, named Keys and Mystic. Reeve accepted the proposition, and together, they formed the Industry. After taking several beatdowns from the Industry, Vlad got together his friends, Leary Garcia, Mangler, and Steven A. Kult, to form the Underground. This war lasted until Reeve was 26.
At that year's pinnacle event, Born Again, the Underground met the Industry, in an eight man, elimination tag main event, which came down to Reeve and Vlad. Reeve was one the verge of losing to Vlad, with "The Dhampir" cinching in his "Blood Moon Rising" sharpshooter. Suddenly, just as Reeve was about to tap, XAW newcomer Krystal Dawn ran down to the ring, and distracted the ref. Reeve tapped, but with the official distracted by "The Punk Princess", Vlad soon ran out of patience. He released the hold, and shoved the ref... when from out of nowhere, Reeve rolled up Vlad from behind, and got the 3 count.
As Krystal ran into the ring to celebrate with "The ShowMan", the ring was literred with garbage. It was revealed on XAW.com that Reeve and Krys had been going out behind the scenes for a few weeks, ever since the triple cage world title match against Javex. Asked about his sexuality, and what happened to him being gay, Reeve simply stated "When did I ever say I was gay?". It soon became apparent that Reeve and raYne were two completely seperate personalites... locked inside the same person.
raYne, the colorful, flamboyant, and homosexual "Storm"... and Reeve, the depressed, gothic, but entirely straight, "ShowMan". Two men, one body. One in the same... but so different. Till his 29th birthday, Reeve and Krys made the most of the time they spent together, which was most of the time, as Reeve was able to keep his joyful self surpressed... constantly drenching himself in thoughts of death and darkness. Krys and Reeve became XAW's "Power Couple", and Reeve, having held the World Title for six whole years, was now the new face of XAW.
But on his 29th birthday, Reeve received a phone call... the voice on the other end sounded very familiar... a female voice... She spoke to Reeve... "Eight years, Reeve. Eight... long... years. You've left me unconcious for eight, fucking, years. And when I wake up, I get a call from your old pal... Bass. He let me know a lot of things about you, Reeve. How you'd achieved everything you ever wanted. A world title... power, fame, money... A woman that can't seem to pull her lips from around your dick. That little bitch you're with might as well find another boy toy, Reevie. Because the one she has now? Is about to go into a deep, DEEP coma of his own. And this is one you won't wake up from."
Reeve knew who it was. It was Alexis. Bass had come to XAW simply to become a mole for Alexis... and to let her know everything she needed to know to track him down. But when she made her way to St. Louis, the owner of XAW, Tony Stark, told her that Reeve had quit the day before, and didn't even bother to pick up his last check. On her way out, she saw Krystal Dawn... who was sobbing. Alexis asked her why she was crying, and Krys, not knowing who the woman was, thinking she was but a compassionate stranger, told her that Reeve never told her where he was going. Alexis hugged the poor girl, and leaned her head in close to the Gothic beauty's ear... whispering... "The same place you are, honey... straight to HELL." Immediately, Alexis slit Krystal's throat, but a cop nearby was able to catch her, handcuff her, and drag her to jail. Krystal bled to death on the way to the hospital. Alexis was sentenced to the electric chair.
At the age of 30, Reeve found out about the death of Alexis through a newspaper. The death seemingly lifted a weight off of his shoulders... almost as if the past he had lived was finally put to rest... and he could move on. He embraced his homosexuality once more, again changing his name to 'raYne'. He found work with a company called AWE, a company living its second life. A second life just as raYne Believed he was living... raYne Believed that AWE would be the company that XAW never could be... and that it would prove to be a true home for him. That is... Until its second closing.
His next match, prior to the closing, was to be for the company's prestigous 'Ironman' title. But once the doors were closed for a second time, he was left without a job... or a chance to start anew. raYne spun into yet another frenzy. For the fifth time, he had something he cared for taken from him... First, his mom. Then, Alexis. Then, his fantasy of being with Javex. Then, the only girl he believed had ever TRULY cared for him, in Krystal. And now, a shot at a new life... new hopes, new dreams... a life not filled with loss and broken promises. It was the fifth time in his life every single thing in his world had come crashing down upon him... raYne went on another quest to find himself... this time, back to his hometown of Nowhere, Oklahoma.
During the 22 years Reeve was away, his old babysitter had grown tired of Frank, finding him too old for her taste. After hearing the babysitter had left Frank, Beth Gordon ran back to her ex-husband as fast as her feet could take her. You see, since leaving Frank, Beth had lived a miserable life. Having nowhere to go, she lived out of her car, and the only work she could find was selling her drug-riddled body for small sums of money... and more drugs. But when she returned to Frank, she quickly discovered that nothing had changed. He still mistreated her. Any time she did even the slightest thing wrong, he would take the back of his hand to her... knocking her flat to the floor. And eventually, she grew very sick of this.
As Frank and Beth lie in bed, Reeve's mother... bruises scattered about every inch of her body, black eyes... snuck out of bed. But this time, she wouldn't simply leave Frank to himself, and leave for a life inside her small car. This time she decided to take his rifle from the mantle above the fireplace... And as he walked into the room, checking to make sure his wife hadn't left him for a second time, the last thing he saw was Beth, aiming the long, skinny barrel of his rifle straight at him... before she pulled the trigger, blowing his head clear off his neck.
As Frank's corpse fell to the floor, Beth fell to her knees sobbing... Not because she had killed the husband she knew for years... For she no longer cared anything for him. After all the garbage she had been forced to endure, there wasn't an ounce of love for him left in her body. No... that wasn't the reason she cried. She cried for she knew that she was headed to prison... possibly headed for the chair. And that now, despite the promise she had made to him all those years before, she would never have a chance to see her son again...
[2K13EDiT: "...we're in the fight of our lives. and we're not ready to die..."]
- Location: Nowhere, Oklahoma... Time: 10:22pm... Date: October 31, 2007 -
The night of Halloween... All Hallow's Eve. Beth Gordon sat on the cot of her prison cell... The only thing she could think wasn't the fact she was about to have her last walk... but instead, it was of all the fun times her son had enjoyed on this very day... so, so long ago. Beth had her eyes focused on the dirty floor... her hands cuffed together... She hummed a tune to herself. "Hush, Little Baby"... the woman, perhaps 50, slowly lifted her eyes... And after a few moments, she finally realized she had been staring into the eyes of her son for nearly three minutes... without even knowing it.
Beth quickly leaped to her feet, and ran to the bars... she lifted her cuffed hands up, managing to brush her fingertips gently against Reeve's cheek. One tear ran down Reeve's face... followed by another, and then another, until he was weeping... his eyes flooded with tears. He clenched the prison bars with his hands, leaning his head against his mother's palm. His face, covered by makeup... his fingernails, painted, his lips, glossed. He told his mother that he thought he may be gay... but she said it didn't matter to her. Nothing mattered but the fact that, for a handful of minutes, before her soul was judged eternally... for even the smallest amount of time, she would have the chance to be with her son... and to know that he's safe.
Reeve told his mother that he really didn't know who he was anymore... Gay, straight, bi... He didn't know if he was a dark goth, or someone flamboyant and full of life, and energy, and joy... He didn't know where to go. He didn't know what to do... He had been everywhere there was to go... he'd done everything he could think of, but no matter what he did, or where he went, Reeve had always been led down the path of heartache and dissapointment. He'd changed his name, and was on the cusp of getting his life straight... when the company he was in closed down. It seemed like he could never do anything right... that the world was against him... that he was destined to be a failure.
At that point, Reeve's mom told him, without hesitation, something that changed him forever. A breakthrough in Reeve's life... something that truly revealed to Reeve who he was, and what his purpose was. Beth looked into Reeve's eyes... before ripping her hand away. Beth stared at Reeve... her son... with a blank look. She spoke, "Reeve... you sicken me. I thought you were a MAN." Reeve stared at his mother with a look of disbelief... not comprehending how she could change so suddenly... she continued. "It doesn't matter if you're gay, straight, bi, goth, or flamboyant, or whatever the HELL you want to be. If you can't be a man... if you can't grow a SACK, and start standing up for yourself? Then the Truth is... you're no better than that piece of shit father of yours. I'm glad I shot him, Reeve. I'm not sorry for it, and if I had the chance to do it again? I'd gladly take that opportunity with a smile on my face. Because if I could do it again, I'd know just how much of a fuckin' piss-ant, pussy, cry-baby, BASTARD you are. You weren't worth the tears I shed that night. And you're not worth all the hours I worried away, thinking about how I should have found you when I had the chance... should have told you I loved you. Reeve... I don't love you. And if I had the chance? If I had the chance, I'd shoot you too. I hope... I pray to GOD... that I get sent to heaven. Because I don't want to have to look at your pathetic face when you're burning in hell."
Reeve stared at his mother... still gripping the steel bars... He lowered his head... and looked to the ground. He spoke, without looking up...
"Mother... there IS no hell." ... He lifted his head... and a darkness now stood in his eyes, replacing the sorrow that once belonged there. Reeve stared into his mom's eyes... into her soul. Reeve had a frown upon his face... but this frown soon curled... and transformed into a demonic grin. A smile so evil, so dripping with malice, that his mother began to tremble with fear. "There is no hell... and there is no heaven. When you fry in that chair, the only place you'll be headed is a box, six feet deep. You'll be a worm feast, mother. You'll be a worm feast..."
Reeve's mother began to back away, as Reeve kept on...
"There is no heaven above, no hell below, no god, no devil... but on this Earth? There IS a demon. A truly demonic, terrible, HORRIBLE spirit... And it goes by the name...
"....of Legion."
Reeve's mother's eyes began to widen... The guard came over to the cell, and told Reeve he would have to allow for the man to take his mother. It was time for her to take the long walk... Reeve smiled, and stepped to the side. The smile on Reeve's face sent chills crawling along the guard's sides... As the guard escorted Beth out, and just as she was about to leave, she turned an eye to her son... who said but one sentence.
"We Are Legion... For We Are Many."
Reeve had finally taken all the loss he could stand. Everyone he'd ever cared about had turned their back on him... and three months after his mother's death, he found out about the third coming of the company that had closed before he had a chance to reach that light that he had so desperately seeked. But now... now, he no longer dwelled in the light. Now, he was consumed by darkness. Now, he was filled by the spirits of so many different personalites and characters... almost like the different colors of paint that mix together, and form pure blackness. He didn't know who he was... But yet?
He did. He is Nothing.
Yet he is everything.
He is Legion... he is many...
And he is coming.
[2K13EDiT: "...someone save me from the hate."]
= = = = = = =
*static*
...
*beginTransmission*
-- 2K5 --
Do you see me?
I mean, REALLY see me?
Of course you don't... you've never seen me.
NONE of you have EVER seen me... for what I am.
Vlad. You call me a Javex immitator when I use the phrase "I am.", when in reality, 'I am' is NOT what I say... but what I Believe.
Callisto. I've heard what you say about me in the back. That I don't take others advice... that I "don't work well with others". But why should I work well with others, when the world is filled with people that have disregarded me with terms such as "queer" and "fag" and the list goes on and on...
[2K13EDiT: ...'worthless shemale'...]
And Crusher... the man that would be champion. You say I'm afraid.
...
Ahem... YOU... say I'M afraid. Aren't you the man that defeated a woman... not just a woman but HEATHER F*CKING STORM to get that title you hold so precariously around your waist? You are a mockery, my friend, a sham, a TRAVESTY OF GREAT PROPORTIONS. And the sad thing about it is, you have the curtain pulled over our chairman's eyes, your fellow stablemates' eyes, as well as the entire COMPANY'S eyes.
Except for one man.
Except... for Reeve. F*ckin'. Gordon.
You try and you try and you TRY to tell the world that you deserve that gold, but buddy keep TRYING. Because God knows that's all you CAN do is try. You may pull the wool over their eyes... but as long as I'm alive... as long as there's blood pumping through these veins and a breath flowing through my lungs, I will not believe that your title reign is anymore more than a run waiting to be ended.
Waiting... anticipating... for me.
Reeve. F*ckin'. Gordon.
Crusher... you've always been the third wheel. The odd man out in an odd bunch that calls themselves... the Dark Alliance. ... But really... what's so DARK about you three? I mean, where in the hell is Dark Demon? Why is Vlad kissing the ass of everyone and their mama? But think about it... before there was you... there wasn't just TALK of Dark Dayz. There wasn't just HYPERBOLE. There was substance to the hype. It was close to becoming a reality you could reach out and touch it... So close.
But then Crusher comes along. Mr. USA, Mr. Nice Guy, Mr. All-American! Yeah, you were a real ball of fire when you came into the top tier, werentcha? I mean, what was your biggest, greatest, most DAZZLING accomplishment?
...
Oh... yeah... that's right. Ya beat the tar outta Tara Rysing. A chick with a name so lame it makes "Gobbledygooker" look like a good idea! Man, you must have been REALLY proud, huh? Crippling a woman that had an easier time making the the superstars of XAW sweat in the sack than in the ring! But I'm sure you knew FULL well about all that... having spent some time in St. Louis yourself. As a LOST BOY!!! You, Tara, Apollo, and of course, the bane of my existence, Mikey. Of course, who remembers any of the members of the Lost Boys? The only reason I do is because it was BECAUSE of you cretins that I lost my chance at the World Title. And so, it all swings around in the gauntlet of time.
Crusher, you beat a woman to win the World belt. You beat a woman to win the US belt. And you're going to beat off to a woman to make yourself feel better after I beat your ass into submission, not only after I win the #1 Contender's rumble, but in the US-TV title tourney as well. At least... you'd make us BELIEVE you prefer the so-called fairer sex.
But c'mon Crushie-Wushie... I've seen those stares... those... hot, longing, SPARKLING stares that just seem to scream... "Take me Reeve... TAKE ME NOW!!!" I know you want me, Crush. But the thing is, you're just not my type.
I like my men to come equipped with a d!ck.
See ya at the pay-per-view, sweetie.
- truth -
"...on this day..."
[2K13EDiT: "My voice will be heard today...
...I got a hero livin' in me."]
=====================================================================================
- Your screen is black. Yet you hear a voice... a familiar voice... a disenchated voice. -
- A voice of disgust... at the idiocy of today's world... and the carelessness of its inhabitants. -
- Your screen is black... yet not void. You hear a voice... and this is what it has to say. -
"Heather Storm. The woman that came so close to becoming MCW World's champion... only to have it savagely ripped out of her hands by a man with half a peanut for a brain. Heather... we've never crossed paths. Yet I feel as though we have so much in common. We both have had a love for Callisto... we both have known what it feels like to hold gold for the first time... we've both traveled miles upon miles across this nation for the betterment of many of the greatest promotions this business has to offer... we've BOTH come within inches of shining as the pinnacle of the sport, only to have it taken away in the blink of an eye by someone so far below us we can't even see them without the aid of a telescope... and most importantly, and something you've pointed out yourself..."
[camera opens to Reeve sitting backwards in a wooden chair, with one leg on either side, arms folded atop the chair's back.]
"... We've BOTH been screwed over by that shovel-shoving, Home-Depot card-carrying, idiot among idiots himself... Mike Johnson."
[Reeve finishes this sentence and looks down at the wooden floor... before lifting his head slightly, just enough to let us see the wicked glint in his eye, and the sinister smirk on his face. The room Reeve is sitting in is barren, except for the wooden chair and floor. The room is cast in an eerie, pale glow, and Reeve does nothing to help ease the darkness which inhabits this place. 'The Show' is wearing no shirt, no shoes, no wig. Just his short, plain, jet black hair with spiked tips, and a pair of black leather pants. His hands are accentuated with black fingernails as well as a pair of spiked wrist bands, his lips are painted with ice blue lipstick, and around his neck is the crystal dragon pendant he's carried with him for ages. Reeve's eyes hide behind a pair of pure white contacts, as if his pupils are rolled deep into the back of his skull. And beside the wooden chair, there lies the one thing that remains from Reeve's past beside the pendant and Tony... the black baseball bat. The very same one that led to his first win in XAW, and the World Heavyweight Title that went along with it. His first match... and he walked out the top dog.]
[Scrawled across the chair's back is the word 'Truth' in black spraypaint. The very word that has been the driving force for 'The Show' for the last few months, heading toward the eventual fork Reeve has written poem after poem about. A fork that could lead to his ultimate success... or failure. One decision that must be made, and that has spawned hours upon hours of writing and reflection from our hero. That decision?]
"Do I stay on the path to the World title... or do I stay on the path to my vengeance upon Johnson. Ever since I arrived, I've been stuck between two roads, without a compass, without an atlas. Without... a tour guide."
"Until now."
"I've found my guide. And her name... is Storm. Heather, I know how bad you want that World title. And in the grand scheme of things, you haven't really had a chance. I mean, nobody thought you had a chance going into Heatwave... and on some level you proved them right. BUT. Along the way, you also proved that you did have what it takes to compete on the big stage. It was a triple cage match, just like the first match I competed in. And you were THIS close to doing now just as I did back then, and upsetting the critics' predictions by going home with the game's richest prize. But then... there was Crusher. The big oaf who had no right to leave with that strap. All he did was hang onto the cage for a couple of lousy minutes, and after you had given your all, he attacked you from behind and tossed you. He blindsided you, Heather. If you ask me, the man's a chickensh!t. He did nothing more than take advantage of a REAL champion's shining moment.
"He's a bast@rd. He's a coward. And the worst thing about it is... Our chairman is doing absolutely nothing about it. He's not even giving you a d@mn one-on-one match. A fair fight. A fight where you can SEE Crusher coming at you... instead of being caught off guard by a mindless monster twice your size and three times your girth... but HALF your ability, and nowhere near the charm, charisma, intellect, or beauty of you. No, Mike "The MYTH" Johnson did nothing about the travesty that occured on the 30th of July. It's been over a month now, and he's STILL done nothing. Now, Mike books Crusher in a NON-TITLE match... against a STABLEMATE! If you think even for one second that Mr. Vampire-pants is going to go easy on his pal Crushie-Wushie...
"...you're absolutely right. My prediction? Vlad does the j-o-b to Crusher in less than ten minutes, successsfully 'passing the torch'. At least, until Crusher's little stint with the gold is over, and he's ready to hand it back over to the man the Big Crush sucked up to for month's on end just so he could keep the title. Yeah, that's right. Because you all want in on a little secret? If Vlad REALLY wanted that title right now? I mean REALLY wanted that title? He'd snap Crusher's neck in half a second. *snaps fingers* Just like THAT. But Crusher has kissed up and kissed ass, and he's achieved the position of being the only man Vlad's willing to ALLOW to hold the belt if they somehow, someway manage to steal it from the Blood Clod's grasp. Well, besides Dark Demon. But who knows when the hell THAT guy will show up."
"Vlad knows it, Crusher knows it. Hell, the whole WORLD knows it. Crusher stumbled upon the gold. The gold Vlad claims as his own. And if Crusher had been any other man, Vlad would have pounced upon him in a heartbeat... Now, if I was the man that walked away from Heatwave with the title, I would have b!tchslapped the taste out of Vlad's mouth... but that's beside the point. Crusher won. Heather DESERVED to win... but Crusher won. And BECAUSE he won, Vlad was willing to let it slide. At A.D., Vlad'll lay down for Crusher, forcing the people to believe that Crusher is worthy of the championship in his possesion. This will, in turn, make Vlad's little hobbled-together 'Alliance' seem all the more strong, and when the time is right, Crush will repay Vlad's kindness, and the fact that he didn't tear him a new hole for the gold, with a quick and painless title drop.
"Really, it's a marvelous plot guys, it really is. But it's so thinly veiled a blind man could see it. And the Truth is... there are better men that deserve that title more than the both of you combined. And one of those men...is a woman. Heather... not only did you bust your ass in that match, you fought the naysayers that told you and the rest of the women in this business that they can't make it as a World's champion. I know that feeling, Heather. I've been dealing with the names for years now... 'f@g'... 'queer'... 'pillow-biter'... And although they're only names, they still hurt. Why? Because they're some of the most vicous, painful words a human mouth can utter. Especially the mouth of a father...
"But that aside, people look down on those they don't understand. And the human race tramples those that get in their way, even if those that get in their way are only trying to have their voices heard. Mike Johnson, just like the Alliance, are like that. They disregard anyone's voice but their own. Vlad and his pals SAY they no longer associate with Johnson, but the Truth is, as long as a man wants what someone has, that man will help him. Mike wants that World title in his camp... Vlad wants to rule this company. Crusher wants a moment in the spotlight, Vlad wants to boost his stable's position in the fed. So you can see why there would be motive there for a hand helping another, and one event leading to another. Heather, I may hate to say it, but it's True; I'm human. And so are you. We both want the title, and we both want to get our revenge on Johnson for screwing us over. The only problem is... We can't BOTH walk away from American Dream with the gold.
"Ever since I stepped into this company, I've been ranting about becoming 'Born Again'. But really... what do those words mean? To XAW [yeah, that's right, I'm not afraid to say it], it's just a way to rake in cash on ppv buyrates. To the Christian Religion, it's the reward given for faithful service on this Earth. And for the last several weeks, to me, it's been nothing but another gimmick. But in the end... something's got to give. There can be no more gimmicks. There can be only... Truth."
"...right now..."
"And the Truth is... there is no Born Again. There ARE no second chances. There is only one life to live, and once it's over, you have experienced it all. I had my chance at Alexis... and I blew it. I had a chance at the XAW Cruiserweight title. Blew that. Had a shot for the MCW World title at Heatwave... blew that too. Point is, once something's gone, it's gone for good. Heather, your chance for the MCW Championship comes Sunday. Now, Johnson can see what you've done. How much blood you've poured into that ring.... how much blood you shed on all three levels of that structure at Heatwave... and he can totally disregard it all. And then, to top it off... he compares you to Callisto. Heather, you're not in Calli's league. ... You're way, way, WAY beyond that.
"Callisto is to you as Jeff Hardy is to Christopher Daniels.
"Hardy tries to be 'extreme' by ruining his body by tossing himself through tables and wrecking his mind by covering his face in paint [no telling how many of his brain cell's that stuff's killed]. Whereas, CD is a TRUE athlete, with not only the greatest mic skills in TNA, but the greatest X-Division talents in the world. Heather... you are real, just like CD. Calli is a fraud, and you deserve so much more than her. You deserve to be with someone that cares about your desires to be the greatest.
"Calli? When she was with Scotty, she never believed he would walk away with the belt. She always thought it was HER destiny to be the one in that couple to becoem champion. And between you and me? She thinks the same of you. As long as you're together, she'll TELL you that she loves you. She'll TELL you that she cares. Hell, she'll TELL you just about anything just to get you into the sack. But the Truth is, as soon as she gets some gold around her waist, she'll forget about you faster than she did Scotty. But me? I'll be up front with you. I don't want to be with you like Calli does. I already have Tony for that. All I want is a chance for a mutual relation. You want the World title? I'll be in your corner every time you step in that ring. All I ask in return is help in my mission to bring down Johnson. You deserve revenge, just as I do, and together, vengeance would be ours.
"I want you to seriously think about this Heather. I don't care if you like Callisto, I don't care if you like NFH, hell, I don't care if you like to do the hooky-hooky at the Hooky-Hooky Lou... whatever that means. All I care is that you hate Dark Alliance, and you have reason to hate Johnson. And those are the only two reasons I need...
"...For a very beautiful friendship. Think about it Heather... and get back to me. Ciao."
[Reeve smiles at the camera, and pops his neck to both sides, before departing from view...
Leaving the camera to stare at the chair, and its lone message...]
- truth -
'i'm just a step away,
i'm just a breath away.'
John Gable: You are the one who told me to get into this. Saying it would help my career.
‘Para-Pirutseo-Bal’: No, I said I always thought you would make a good wrestler, it just happened to be after your flops. You have the Television title…what better way to remake a career for yourself?
John Gable: The World title.
P.P.B.: Be patient, a trainee does not simply wait a few years then become a smith; he travels a journey like anyone else and like anyone else, he must face the unrelated difficulties as well. But I want to know what is going on in here.
He pointed to my head.
John Gable: I have been growing more and more paranoid. I feel as if Alexis and Humphrey are turning away from me. She never looked at me the same since I beat up that bum.
He nodded as if to signify that he understood.
. . .
P.P.B.: That definitely made some interesting television. I know I was on the edge of my seat.
John Gable: It’s not just her distrust of me. I feel like whatever they did to her on that house on haunted hill is what is mainly turning her against me.
I sighed and pulled the cap of my bottle.
John Gable: I can’t help but feel like she might be right. I have had these dreams that leave me with a pit of emptiness and I feel like I have been filling it with potent hateful thoughts. My whole head has been filling up with nonsense and it is starting to affect my sleep.
P.P.B.: Again, it is the God in you try to make its way out. Don’t suppress it.
It is darkest just before dawn
and the dawn will be so beautiful for you.
Just stay with it and try to indulge it if you can.
John Gable: I don’t think it is this God you keep talking about. I think I am just losing it.
He put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a reassuring shake.
P.P.B.: So how about this Scott Savage guy.
John Gable: I don’t know. He is kind of a shit stirrer which is fantastic in its own right, especially with getting noticed. But I am not sure if now is the time to be making alliances with such dangerous people. Rebellion is taking up enough time as it is.
P.P.B.: I think you should talk to him.
John Gable: Really?
P.P.B.: I would totally mark out for that.
John Gable: Mark what?
P.P.B.: Never mind, it is an alternate dimension thing…
I shrugged and took a swig from the bottle.
John Gable: Maybe it wouldn’t be a terrible idea. I mean he seems to understand where I am coming from and it would be nice to talk to someone who didn’t disagree with me all the time. Morientes questions every little thing I do.
P.P.B.: Morientes has one hell of a future in store for him. I see him going places.
I looked over to him with an unamused look on my face. He shrugged and tilted his head as if to say “A fan will be a fan”. With him proclaiming to be the kind of person he is, it is almost a challenge to disprove his prediction.
John Gable: Morientes has quite an event in store for him that is one thing that is for sure.
P.P.B.: You know what you need to do?
John Gable: What?
P.P.B.: You need to have fun again.
I haven’t seen you do an actual promo in a while. Go do one of your big productions that you like to do.
Show the world that John Gable can have a tangible thought still.#here_to_show_the_world
Sometimes, we must travel down our darkest path to find the light.
Sometimes we must hit our lowest point... to reach our highest.
#pray
...for with time?
you will be answered
by the same being that sought to destroy you.
ego me bello, my friends.
iAm in a war against myself.
"the countdown begins to destroy ourselves..."
|believe...
=============================================
[from facebook. long ago.]
Something else that helped my mood is my absolute FAVORITE Disney star, Jennifer Stone... And it was a little something she herself wrote... something that inspired me greatly to begin work on an idea I had a year and a half ago when I was laying on my kitchen floor, feeling sorry about losing my ex... The idea hit me as the rain poured outside... it struck like a lightning bolt. Watching the Avengers, I saw these creatures... the villains of the movie... and it was like the evil force in my story coming alive before my eyes... The Nothing.
"...come play my game..."
= = = = = = = = = = = =
Prologue : The Black Bat
= = = = = = = = = = = =
The Nothing - n. : Darkness. Emptiness. A hollow void. A lack of emotion, of heart, of feeling. It is a cancer. It eats away at everything and anything that it grabs hold of. Dreams become nightmares. Love becomes hate. And then? Then all becomes none. Because these things, twisted under its power, are so much easier to control. And it intends to control it all. From the pacific shore, to the darkest reaches of Africa. From the poorest families... to the very top of the ladder. It has no seperation of reality and fantasy. It knows no halting, even if it depends upon it.
It will stop at nothing, until the world as we know it IS Nothing. Nothing but a hollow, lifeless shell. The sooner we all realize this... the sooner we can cure this poison.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
February 24th, 2011 ~ "The Invasion of the Nothing"
By Jennifer Stone, 'Harper' of Disney's 'Wizards of Waverly Place'
"You know those times, when one of those five tricky, little senses is stimulated and it sends your mind into a fury? Your brain goes into overdrive. That dazed, blank stare washes over your face. You go somewhere really far away, thinking of nothing and everything simultaneously. You’re not sad. You’re not happy. Numb: that’s where you are. Your head is temporarily paralyzed so you can contemplate all that your brain has to work through to make sense of things.
"Then someone catches you and inquires nonchalantly, “What are you thinking about?” In that instant all of those thoughts crash into the dashboard of your mind like a six-year old you forgot to buckle up. You are whip-lashed back into reality. You know you have to answer. And answer quickly, so as to not to seem crazy or to raise concern. If only you could sum it up in one response. If you could describe it at all! Yet, you know you’re not going to be able to find the words. “Nothing” you reply. The perfect response to not raise any more questions...
"It’s amazing though. All of those thoughts, all of those musings, reduced to one meaningless response...
"How suddenly 'Nothing' infiltrates...
... and how easily 'Nothing' is forced to retreat."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ October 30, 1985 ~
*Drip*... *Drip* ... *Drip*
Drop, after drop. Tiny droplets of water filtered through the faucet, seeping downward, collecting into a blue, plastic bowl. The bowl slowly but surely filled with the clear liquid, like an orchestral piece gradually building toward the crescendo. Water... whether it come by way of rain or tap, is our body's life source. Our bodies consist of much of this precious liquid ; nature's energy drink. And so much more pure than a shiny can of Red Bull.
It was the night before Halloween, and the small town of Nowhere, Oklahoma was completely awash with the sights, smells and sounds that Autumn are made of. As they do year in and year out, the seasons were changing. No matter the time, no matter the circumstance, it is dependable; past, present, and onto the future... one thing remains consistent. Change.
The Eighties had been wild for most. The fashion styles, the outrageous music, the political climate and religious aspects. Every facet of pop culture and media had been as unusual as Cyndi Lauper, and as crazy as "Captain" Lou Albano.
But for the Gordon household, things were much more than crazy. They were almost psychotic.
You could say two parallel dimensions existed within those four walls: the one that existed for Reeve Gordon, the family's youngest child -- ; a wonderful, magical, near perfect world. And the other? A far darker world, inhabited by his father, Frank, his mother, Beth, and his elder brother, Axl.
The Gordon brothers walked along the kitchen tile toward the sink, to retrieve glasses of water. The two stepped over an object on the floor; a black baseball bat. Frank had bought the bat for his first born, Axl, when the boy was six, which seemed to Axl like eons ago. It was a time he wished, every day, that he could return to.
As they walked, Axl spoke quietly to his eight-year-old brother.
"Ok Reeve, remember. Be quiet, watch your step, take your drink as I hand it to you, and head back. We don't want to disturb dad. He can get kinda," Axl paused, grasping for the right word, "... cranky, sometimes."
Reeve looked up at his older brother and asked innocently, "Why does he? Doesn't he love us?"
"Well..." Axl looked down at his 8-year-old brother, whose eyes gleamed with hope, wonder, and the naive beliefs of a small child. "Of course he does, buddy. Dad loves all of us. He just..." Axl slowly turned his gaze to the side. Reeve looked at him still, anxiously anticipating his older brother's response. "Sometimes, dad just gets... lost."
Reeve continued to gaze at his brother with wide, sparkling eyes. "Well, we can find him."
Axl looked back at his brother, a half-hearted smile drawn across his face, as countless thoughts raced through his mind, but only one measly reassurance escaped his mouth. "Sure bro. We can."
Axl shook his head a bit, lost in thought. He turned to the sink, and poured a glass, first for his brother, handing it off to him and signaling for Reeve to head back to their room. Axl then began to pour his own...
A voice emerged from the distance, "The hell are you doin' up, you lil'...".
"Why don't you just DIE", Axl mumbled under his breath.
As soon as these words left Axl's mouth, a hand dropped over his shoulder like the blade falling from a guillotine. The hand clasped around Axl tightly, and spun the pre-teen kid around to face his father, Frank Gordon. He glared at Axl, his breath reeking of beer, a lit cigarette dangling loosely from his mouth. His fingernails were yellowed and chipped, his eyes bloodshot and filled with rage, and his fists were clenched into tight balls -- ready.
"How many times do I have to tell you? Don't. Fucking. Wake me... you WORTHLESS LIL' SHIT."
Axl's eyes narrowed into slits... and he stared back into his father's eyes with contempt and disgust. "You don't scare me, you... you BASTARD!"
At this, Frank chuckled lightly. "Oh really? I don't scare you? You little piss ant... There's not a day goes by I don't wish you woulda ended up as a stain in one ah my socks. But NO, I just had tah go an' sleep with yer momma, just cuz I got drunk one time."
Axl mumbled once again to himself, "One time? That's a laugh..."
Barely hearing the comment, Frank quickly whipped out his hand and grabbed hold of Axl by the throat. Frank sent his first-born son colliding with the cupboard below the sink, back first. A loud, terrible thud sounded through the house, a thud both Beth in her & Frank's room, as well as Reeve in his & Axl's room could hear.
Frank glared into his son's eyes, with a disgusted grimace curling at his lips... "You listen to me, you PUNK ASS runt. I pay the bills 'round here, do you understand this? It's ME that puts the food on our table. It's ME that puts a roof over our heads. And it's ME that decides what YOU do, what that tramp that is lucky to call herself my wife does... and what that snot-nosed, half-RETARDED sawed-off lil' brother of yours does. I made you two, and by GOD can I break you two just as quick."
Axl could literally feel the cold in his father's eyes; he felt like nothing more than a dog being scolded for wetting the floor. Frank slowly lifted his free hand up, preparing to strike his son, still clenching Axl's now raw throat in the other hand.
Frank growled harshly, breathing down Axl's throat, with his stench of alcohol and tobacco strong and overwhelming. "You will NOT back talk me, you WILL NOT disrespect me, and you will do whatever I say, no matter what I say, as long as you live in MY HOUSE. Now... are we clear?"
Axl responded, but rather weakly. "Y-yes...", he stuttered, before whispering, "Dick..."
Frank's eyes brimmed with contempt, as he bellowed, "WHAT?! What was that?!"
Axl eagerly began to reply, "I said..."
Suddenly, the sounds of footsteps were heard. Light footsteps, such as those belonging to a young child. Axl knew these belonged to Reeve. He returned his focus to his father, and began to backtrack his statement, "Nothing. I'm sorry... please forgive me."
Frank glanced at the door leading to the hallway. He growled lightly, before turning his attention back to Axl. "Anything to shield that little runt, eh Axl? Fine, you're safe. For now."
Frank dropped Axl unceremoniously, and the older son brought himself back up as fast as possible. Frank finished pouring the glass of water for his son.
Reeve walked through the door, rubbing his eyes, and yawning. "Wha- What happened? Daddy, big bro., are you ok?" Reeve gazed on, a curious expression upon his face.
The tiniest smirk creeped along Frank's lips, knowing quite well that he had Axl right where he wanted him. He eyed his older son, who was still rubbing at his sore neck. Somehow, though, Axl managed to muster up a faint smile for his brother.
Frank patted Axl on the back, much closer to a harsh slap than a loving tap. "We're just fine champ... aren't we Ax-man?."
Axl continued with the tiny, half-hearted smile, before looking up toward his father. "Thanks for the water... dad."
Frank peered down with only the slightest hint of anger, "No problem... son."
Frank lowered the glass, and Axl tried to take it. But as Axl tugged, Frank refused to let go. Axl pulled a bit harder; and Frank finally did let go, sending the glass of water crashing to the floor. Glass shattered and scattered across the tiling, water pooling between them.
Frank's mouth twisted into a vulgar grin.... "Awww man, lookit that mess! We're gonna have to clean that up, aren't we kiddo?"
Axl's sight rested sollemnly upon the floor... Slowly, tears began to well up in the corners of the boy's eyes, but he fought the urge.
Reeve asked his brother if he could lend a hand, but Frank quickly replied for him: "Nah, me and this big guy here can handle it. You just run along to your room, alrighty?" Reeve looked a bit wary, but told Axl "Goodnight" nevertheless. Axl answered back with a sheepish, barely audible, " Night."
Reeve scampered toward the kitchen door, but as his hand reached for the handle, he turned his head slightly to the side. He could see the smallest hint of trepidation on the face of Axl, the brother he usually saw as an unwavering, fearless leader. But every so often Reeve felt as if something was being hidden from him. As if there was a veil being cast in front of his eyes to keep him safe. And this was one of those times.
He then cast his vision upon Frank, who barely noticed Reeve's presence. Reeve saw within his father's eyes a hatred he had never before experienced... something sinister. He realized something was wrong, but fear took hold and prevented him from speaking. Reluctantly, the boy turned back toward the door, pulled the handle, and departed. As he did so, Frank looked down at the shards of broken glass. The plastic smile Frank displayed before was quickly replaced with a scowl, as he looked down upon Axl.
"Clean this shit up, you little cockroach. I need to crack something else, and this time? It won't be glass."
Frank made his way toward the door and took hold of the handle. He suddenly turned his head and smirked back at Axl. Axl bent down, picking up the glass, as vile words escaped Frank's mouth; filled with malice.
"Let me know if the screams are too loud. I'll make sure and quiet her down. Nighty night, champ."
Frank slowly drew the door shut, before the sound of footsteps progressed toward his and Beth's room. Axl continued to pick up the glass and toss it into the trash. He tried to block out the crashing sounds, amd then the cries and a single scream. Harsh howels of rage, loud moans of pain. And then... nothing. Nothing, but a low sob.
As the noise gradually lowered in his parents' room, Axl picked up the final shard of glass. Kneeling, he continued to become lost in thought. Slowly, he brought the glass closer and closer to his own wrist... But a call snapped Axl from his trance. It was the voice of Reeve, from the other side of the hall... further away than Beth and Frank's room.
"Axl! What was all that loud noise?! Is everything ok?!"
Axl shook his head to himself, and dropped the last piece of glass into the trash. "YES! Everything... Everything's ok, Reeve! Everything's ok." Axl, deeply lost again in thought, focused on the transparent, glistening glass held within his hand... He spoke softly to himself. "Everything's going to be... ok."
His vision drifted downward, and instead of looking at glass, he found what was left. Nothing but water. Pure, clean, crystal clear water. Axl lowered his forefinger, and slid it across the water's surface. He then stared into the cool, clear liquid, finding his reflection staring back at him.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Believer - n. : A Believer is quite different from a 'believer'. You see, a Believer... a True Believer... has power. Power that not many realize. Often not even they themselves realize their full potential until a certain point in time. A time that calls for much more than mere words. A time that calls for action. And when that time comes? Believing becomes being. And being becomes strength. A strength that can never be taken away. Believe...
... or Be left Behind.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ October 31st, 1985 -
It was early in the morning, and the sun was just beginning to rise. Frank turned over in bed... his eyes groggy. Even moreso than usual due to the large amount of alcohol he had consumed the night before. He felt the hang-over hit him like a tidal wave. And emotions swept over him that he normally managed to suppress. He stared through bloodshot eyes at the figure laying beside him. Beth, the woman he had devoted his love to all those years ago. The woman he had vowed to honor and to cherish. The woman he spent night after night berrating.
He felt himself swimming in a sea of memories... Young Axl. The boy he taught to ride a bicycle. The boy he used to watch pro-wrestling with every Saturday night. The boy he used to play baseball with. He bought Axl a specially built, custom black baseball bat. Every weekend, they would head to the local sandlot, and Axl felt pride in swinging that bat for the fences. But ever since Frank allowed himself to spiral into what he'd become, Axl couldn't get himself to touch the thing. And Frank knew this. And he knew why.
Frank gazed at Beth's beautiful face as she rested. He wanted so badly to tell her how sorry he was for everything he had ever done to mistreat her and their first-born. But he didn't.
And sometimes, the worst action you can take, is taking none at all.
As darkness descended that night, the cold wind howled, strong and sharp, following those children who wandered throughout town... clad in Mickey Mouse ears, princess tiaras, witch hats. But upon the head of one young eight-year-old boy, none of these things sat. Instead, he carried thoughts inside of it: thoughts of candy, yes, but much, much more. Hand in hand with his older brother, Axl Gordon, young Reeve was a Believer: a Believer in the purity of the human soul, the kindness within the human spirit, and the certainty that he would have a soft pillow to rest his head on when he returned home from his hunt for chocolate and jawbreakers. He would be sleeping gently in his bed, with his brother, his father, and his mother all there to protect him.
Reeve wore the costume of his favorite monster -- a vampire. His jet-black cape lashed behind him in the wind, his plastic fangs protruded from his mouth. Reeve had always held a special place in his young heart for this day. Each year, he would trek through the rural town of Nowhere with his brother Axl, always sharing the fun of dressing up and pretending that they were someone else. Always laughing together as they smiled and ran up to each individual house, gathering as many goodies as two plastic jack-o-lanterns could carry. Reeve always loved this time of the year, as did his brother, Axl; it was one of the few times of the year that he and Reeve could leave the reality of their home behind, if only for a moment, and escape.
Axl was clad in the outfit of his favorite professional wrestler, "Mighty" Mike Malone. He looked down at his little brother, calling him by name to grab his attention : "Reeve."
Reeve glanced back. "Yeah, big bro.?"
Axl tapped his watch. "It's getting pretty late, I think we should head back. Besides, all the good houses have already shut off their light and turned in for the night."
Reeve smiled. "Awww, ok. I was wantin' to fill this thing up to the top!"
Axl returned the smile. "Oh, trust me kid, you have enough sweets. I'd be surprised if you weren't spending the next five weeks bouncing off the walls!"
Reeve beamed with delight, and giggled gleefully. "Let's get home so we can chow down!"
Axl hooked an arm around his brother's shoulders and ruffled his hair a bit, as the two smiled and laughed contentedly. The red, yellow and orange tinted leaves spiraled in the fresh autumn air. They fell from the nearly bare trees and span across the dying grass. And as the kaleidoscope of color transformed the scene, surrounding Axl and Reeve with sheer brilliance, the chilling fall wind brushed along, nipping at the brothers' heels. They headed home to begin digging into their collection of candy.
The Gordon homestead, a house of dissaray. Beth Gordon stood near the hallway leading to the bedroom belonging to her and Frank. Frank sat in his Laz-E Boy, turned away from his wife, fuming with anger but refusing to stand, and choosing instead to chug down beer as he yelled.
"For the LAST time, it's NONE of your damn business!"
But Beth yelled back, the first time she had ever found the strength to do so. "TELL ME FRANK! I've had enough of the lies and the deception! You can't hide the truth anymore! Not from me! Not from our sons! You hear me?! I want to know how these panties found their way into our bedroom, because I know damn good and well they aren't mine!"
Frank let loose a deranged cackle. "For once you're right... those sure ain't yours, ya old bag! Your idea of 'sexy' is when you decide tah shave that shag rug down between yer thighs!"
Beth's eyes widened with hate, "Screw you, Frank! Why should I even try to be sexy when I'm married to a drunken ASSHOLE like you?!"
Frank grew silent for a split second... before letting out a disgusted grunt. "Because I'm the man. And you're just a woman. It's your JOB to please me, you bitch!"
Beth's eyes nearly bulged from their sockets at this point, as she asked the question once more. "You're finally pushing me to my limit, Frank. Just tell me. Whose are these?"
Apparently having had enough back-talk to push him to his boiling point, Frank tightened his hold on the recliner's armrest, his eyes filled with fury.
"Ya wanna know? I mean, ya really wanna know?"
Frank suddenly shot up from his seat, to his feet, spun around, and slowly crept toward his wife. "They belong to a REAL woman. A girl who's more woman than you could ever even hope tah be; Reeve and Axl's babysitter, Jessica!"
At this, Beth gasped. "Franklin! She's only 18! She's barely even of legal age! And you're 34 for CHRIST'S sake!"
Frank, almost nose to nose with his wife, displayed a smile bordering on satanic, "And yet? She's STILL more woman than you are, ever have been, or ever will be. Sad, isn't it?"
Beth's eyes drilled holes through Frank's blackened heart... something Beth had wished to do literally for longer than she could remember.
"You. You..."
Frank returned the vengeful glare that Beth sent his way. He eyed her with a menacing stare, fiery and chilling in the same second. He balled up a fist. Beth had no intention of backing down. Frank quickly grabbed his wife by the throat, and yet she still maintained her inner-strength, refusing to give up the fight. Gripping Beth by the neck, Frank slowly reeled back...
Suddenly, the front door swung open, and Reeve and Axl stepped inside, baskets filled to the brim with candy, and smiles on their faces. But as they saw their parents, the smiles were immediately wiped away. Beth, rubbing at her throat, desperately pleaded, "Boys, please, go to your room..."
For years, Axl had tried to shield this side of their dad from his younger brother. After losing the relationship he had once had with Frank, he spent much of his time trying to give Reeve what the bottle had taken away from him. Axl tried to urge Reeve to leave for their room, but Frank snarled, "He doesn't leave this room! I didn't get up outta muh chair to put this off for another minute, and if that boy's here, he's gonna stay here. He can think of me what he will, I just don't care anymore, ya got me?! Beth, you listen, and you listen good. I'm ending you, woman. Right here, right now, in front of those two lil' pukes!"
Frank turned toward Axl and Reeve. "You open yer eyes wide fer this, kids. Yer momma's gonna take a lil' nap. And she ain't never wakin' back up! Now -- "
Frank began to turn his head back toward his wife. But in that one moment of distraction, Beth found the opportunity to bring a vase crashing down upon her husband's skull. The force drove Frank to the floor, nearly unconscious.
Beth turned to her children.
Tears streaming fast and steadily down her cheeks, she whispered to both of her babies. "Axl... promise me you'll take care of your brother. I know it's a lot to ask of you, but you're all he has. And I Believe you have the strength inside of you to be the man your father can't be. And Reeve, please trust me. I'll come back for you both. One of these days. I can't tell you why, but I've got to leave you now. But I know you can both pull through this. You're both so strong. So smart... If you just Believe, you can both do such great things. Just stay together, and keep my spirit in your hearts... I'll always be there. I love the both of you... Goodbye for now."
Axl screamed, tears flooding his eyes, "Goodbye?! But mom, why?! You can't leave us! Not now! Not with him! I--I can't stand up to him. I just..."
But it was too late. The door had already opened and closed before the final cry could escape Axl's lips. Beth was gone. And Frank was already beginning to stir.
"The HELL..."
Frank reached his feet. He stared over at his two sons, and realized that his wife had left him. And the only thing he could think to do was blame the two kids standing before him.
"YOU! You two little... BASTARDS." Frank reached out for Reeve, to do what, one can only guess. But from out of the blue --
*THWACK!*
Frank teetered forward, before falling flat on his face from the impact of a black baseball bat. The very same bat Frank had bought Axl for his sixth birthday. The two had shared so many times simply playing together, as a family, before the head of the Gordon household had let alcohol twist his mind into uncontrolled madness. To consume him, to corrupt him, and to transform what love rested in his heart. Axl stood above his fallen father, with a sick smile spread across his face; the very same smile that Frank displayed on many an occasion: a fake, plastic smile, masking the pain and resentment within.
Axl looked down upon his dad, eyes burning with terrible anger. "How does it feel, DAD? How does it feel to be ASSAULTED with that thing, huh? You remember, don't you? You remember the last time one of us swung that thing? Because I still do -- all too well...
"You may have messed with me. You may have messed with my mom. But you are NOT messing with MY BROTHER!"
Reeve's face was full of fear. "Axl, what's going on?"
Axl turned to his brother, dropping the bat to the floor. The demented smirk left his face, as he looked at his younger brother with a face of simple reassurence.
"Reeve, don't worry. Just... don't worry. Things may look bad right now. but they ARE going to be better. I Believe they will."
Axl rested a hand on his brother's shoulder, before pulling him in for a tight hug. Axl whispered gently, trying his best to calm his scared sibling, and to rid Reeve of his fear; trying even harder not to show his own.
"Bro, as long as we're together, nobody... and nothing... can mess with us. We have eachother's back. And I'll be there to protect you. Always remember that... always."
Axl wiped a tear from his eye, and headed off to their room after patting Reeve on the back. But before Reeve followed, he looked down at the floor, staring at his father. And then at the black baseball bat. Reeve reached down and grabbed it, lifting it up with his right hand, and rolling it around in his left, before taking it with him to his and Axl's bedroom.
Frank's bruised body rested upon the floor, two jack-o-lanterns filled with candy sitting near his head. On the night Reeve and Axl loved so dearly, the night some call 'All Hallow's Eve', the magical world of young Reeve had come crashing down around him... and his perfect vision of the human condition had been shattered.
~ to be continued ~
"whatever tomorrow brings?
i'll be there."
March 20, 2013
Anything Goes
By JennStone
Anything to feel anything.
Skin punctured,
flesh scarred,
lines crossed,
mistakes made,
numbing, escaping, running:
All for the sake of feeling something,
Anything.
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With and Without the Rose Colored Glasses
July 23, 2012 ~ By Jennifer Stone...
We all lead two lives.
One of met expectations and fantasies.
The second of actuality, where expectations rarely come into fruition.
This life is filled with acceptance of the disappointments.
... Acceptance,
And the hope that they won’t be so often.
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. . .
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February 21, 2011
Me and My Shadow
By: JennStone
Each of us has two people sharing their namesake.
One person is the being who walks around and who interacts with the rest of the known world.
The other is the one we wished walked the earth.
Both share similarities. They are virtually the same in essence, but one is the improvement of the other. Very few folks bring out this 2.0 version of themselves. It usually resides forever in the wishful minds of those that long to improve themselves. It frustrates us to no avail. We feel the ultimate version of ourselves is forever trapped by our fear and indolence. Yet we are comfortable letting it stay in our self made confinement.
Why do we accept our own mediocrity,
When our own excellence is right there?
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"You’re not a failure until you stop trying.
If you have no other testimony, you have this one:
'I’m still here.'
~ Marc Mero
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"I just realized what my 'NeverEnding Epic' truly means...
... I will never give up.
Regardless of if I'm the only one that cares."
~ $|-|3
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"So, back to the student begging me to tell her if she has what it takes to make it or if she should 'stop writing right now'. The best answer is to tell her that it's not up to me. Is she willing to keep reading and practicing writing until her eyeballs bleed and the letters wear off her keyboard? Because that's what she needs to be doing at this point in her embryonic career. Is she willing to keep writing even when no one else is reading her work, even if no one else cares whether she writes or not?
"Because all that matters, really, is that she cares.
"And is she willing to keep writing even after an agent, editor or anonymous colleague has just delivered a withering critique of her work, the kind that stops a less determined writer cold. Because the truth is, I've met a lot of other writers along this path, writers who were more talented than I was and who, for one reason or another, put down their pens long ago. But I'm still here. Which is, I suppose, another kind of answer.
"I'm still here."
~ Stephanie Vanderslice
#with_open_arms_and_open_eyes
#take_the_wheel
#i_need_a_hero
"When I was younger,
I wish that I would have known better.
Better love makes a fat romance,
that lasts for more than a shoe shine.
I'm older, took all the words of my mother, saying,
It could be worse,
could be born with that disease,
instead of catching it first.
So let's go back, to the first time,
that I met you, in your Chevy,
with your hands stretched,
and me crying, screaming, Mercy. Mercy.
But I know that, I was put here, to fight Vikings
in the cold war, with my arms out,
in the front lines, singing, Dare me.
"Dare me.
. . .
"It feels like this world has been
growing slowly upside down.
Maybe I should move to China,
and straighten this mess out.
"Maybe Ill be a poet.
"Watch all the sky for falling words.
And write about my grandma's curtains,
or the lady who put the Chinese buffet in her purse...
"I've got my mouth.
It's a weapon. It's a bombshell."
|edit/it's a #pipebomb|CM|
"It's a cannon. I've got my words.
I won't give them mercy.
Mercy.
. . .
"I've got my words.
I hope they hurt you.
I hope they scar you.
"I hope they heal you.
"I hope they cut you open,
make you SEE you've been warring
for all the wrong reasons.
"Make you see that some things are worth bruising for.
Make you see that your name is your honor code.
Make you see that your hands, you're accounted for.
Pick and choose where your sweat and your blood will go.
Make you see your life's not to be lived alone.
Run their spit through your hair,
'You're worth nothing.
____ '
"But these things take time, love.
These things take backbone.
And they'll tell you what you want to hear--
Cause they think it's 'better'.
'it gets
Better.'"BUT YOU BETTER KNOW how to point out the liars.
You've got to weigh your wars,
Make sure you're not fighting for nothing... Nothing.
. . .
"Are you fighting for nothing?"
~ Meg. Dia
...&Hannah Jo
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[NOT3: the following thread is the beginning of everything.
as the days pass, posts will be added.
these are building blocks. &this is but a glimpse.]
= = = = = = =
[2K13EDiT: "who's gonna make them believe..."]
*written in 2k5
expanded in 2k7*
BLACK.2.1.20.
- Location: Nowhere, Oklahoma... Time: 10:22pm... Date: October 31, 1985 -
When Reeve Gordon was a young boy, his favorite holiday was Halloween. He liked the fact that he could dress up as anything he wanted to, and not be stared at, because everyone else was doing the same thing. He could allow his imagination to soar, and for one day, become someone else... One Halloween, when Reeve was eight years old, he had just finished trick-or-treating, and returned to his home in Nowhere, Oklahoma... when he saw his father, Frank, arguing with his mother, Beth. He had always heard them arguing when he was asleep, but this was the first time he'd ever seen it for himself. He heard his mom ask his dad why she saw him with their son's babysitter.
Reeve asked his father, "Did you have fun playing with her daddy? We always have fun together." Beth looked at her husband... angered look on her face. "YEAH, did you have fun 'playing' with her?!", and Frank became so upset he slapped her across the face. She had had enough. She told Reeve that she had to go, but one day, she'd come back for him. Reeve's dad was left with him, but he never took care of him. The babysitter would always come over, and her and Frank would leave Reeve all alone. All he had was the tv... His life centered around wrestling, a company called "XAW", and his favorite wrestler, Javex Valerius. At school, at the age of 14, he felt himself falling in love with a girl by the name of Alexis. He didn't have the courage to tell her though.
After eight years of being with his dad, and at the age of 16, Reeve finally decided he'd had enough of being neglected in favor of his "babysitter". He packed his bags, and headed for the location that XAW held most of its shows, St. Louis. He wanted to get into the business, and he wanted to prove to himself that he wasn't what his dad had always told him he was... that he wasn't worthless. He finally made it there, and got into their training school. He worked hard for three years, and at the age of 19, they called him in for a try-out match.
That's when he met his childhood hero, "The Deite's Dragon", Javex Valerius. Javex saw so match talent in the kid, that he told the owner to make his first match against him. Through TV, Reeve's childhood crush, Alexis, saw Reeve, and came to the arena that night. She had a confession for Reeve... She had a crush on HIM when they were kids. Reeve lost to JVX, but after the show Alexis met with Reeve, and told him. Reeve told her he'd always felt the same about her, so they got together. Though Reeve lost the try-out match, Reeve felt as though he'd won something far more important. Reeve and Alexis were together for two years.
Reeve continued to get better in the ring, but he wasn't able to spend so much time with Alexis. One day, when he was 21, he came home from a match for the developmental program, and found Alexis in bed with Reeve's best friend, Bass Monsoon. Reeve took it extremely harsh... Alexis smiled at Reeve, as she lay next to Bass, in Reeve's bed, in Reeve's house...
She looked him square in the eye, and told him, "You've never satisfied me, Reeve. Not like your 'friend', Bass, can... and did. Not once, not twice, but THREE times. Reeve... you are, were, and always WILL be a failure. And as far as our relationship is concerned? I hope I never even have to SEE you again. I hate you Reeve... and I hope your career dies a miserable death." A single tear trickled down Reeve's cheek... as he left the house, without even once thinking about the fact that it was his. He no longer cared about the house, or his car, or his clothes, or any of his material objects.
All he cared about was revenge.
One night, Alexis and Bass had gone out for a film at the local movie theatre. Half-way through the show, Bass told Alexis that he was going to get a refill on their popcorn. They were the only two in the theatre... and with Bass gone, this left Alexis by herself. She felt a bit nervous, but knew in her mind she didn't have anything to worry about. At least... that's what she thought. The movie, a horror film filled with blood spraying, and guts flying, began to intensify... A young woman was cornered by a gruesome, hideous beast...
As the vile thing came toward her with claws sharpened, and fangs glistening in the light... The movie screen suddenly cut out. And then... the lights returned. At first, Alexis was frightened, but she soon believed this to only be technical difficulties with the projector. Alexis sighed, and began to stand up to go find Bass, and perhaps get their money back... But as she stood, a pair of hands clamped down from behind, pressing down on her shoulders, and slamming her back into her chair. A rag washed in chloroform was held to her mouth... she struggled desperately, and tried to manage a scream, but nothing came... and her eyes slowly fluttered to a close.
Alexis was tied up and dragged to a secluded place in a forest, deep within St. Louis. As Alexis' eyes opened, she found herself sitting in a wooden chair, inside an old log cabin... Before her, she saw a man... face covered by paint, wearing a trenchcoat, and holding a black baseball bat in his right hand. The man asked her, "How does it feel to trick someone, Alexis? To trick someone into believing you feel so much for them... to fool them into loving you back... and then to rip out their heart? How does it feel Alexis? How does it feel to know that person cares so deeply for you... that they would do ANYTHING in the world for you... that when they work, when they bust their ass, they do it for YOU...
"But that in the end? The fact of the matter is you don't give a shit, and that you couldn't care less if they were willing to drive a knife into their very own heart if it were at your command." He stood before her, holding the bat in his hands... He continued to speak, "Death comes for us all... and each of us must heed its beckoning. For our love... death came at your hands... at your calling. For you? Death will be in the hands of the very same person you made suffer... Alexis, your death will be in MY hands... and my big... black... bat." And with that, he took a swing... striking her clean in the side of the head. She fell into a coma, and eventually, police found her. She stayed in the coma for years, but the police never found out who did it.
A 22-year-old Reeve Gordon returned to XAW's training facility, to try and work his way up to the main stage. But this time, he had taken on a completely different attitude. He had taken on the moniker "The ShowMan", due to the location of where his attack on his ex-girlfriend Alexis first began... before leading to the vicous strike to Alexis' skull. He wore the black and white face paint, and the trenchcoat... and carried the black baseball bat. And he started stalking JVX. Everywhere Javex went, he knew someone was following him. Finally, one night Javex had gotten out of a convenience store, and Reeve met him.
He told him that he had always loved Javex in the ring... that he had always wanted to be like him. He even told him that he had feelings for him. Javex laughed, right in Reeve's face. And the next night, right after Reeve had walked away with a victory in a dark match, Javex came out to the ring. He told the fans, from the center of the squared-circle, Reeve's revelation. The entire crowd laughed at Reeve, as he watched from a monitor backstage. Reeve came through the curtains, and stood on the ramp... grabbing a microphone. He told JVX that one day, he would return... and on that day? JVX, and the fans wouldn't be laughing. That he'd prove, once and for all, that he wasn't someone to be laughed at... to be made fun of. He left the arena, and XAW.
Reeve fled to the very same forest he had left Alexis' unconcious body. He started thinking about his life, and how every time he was so close to feeling so great, that it was all taken out from under his feet. His dad had made his mom leave him... his girl had cheated on him with his best friend... and the hero of his childhood had made him into a laughingstock. He decided that he could either let it eat at him, and eat at him, until there was nothing left but a hollow shell...
Or he could Believe. He could Believe that there WAS a light at the end of the tunnel, and that maybe, someway, somehow, he could turn it into a positive. He underwent a transformation. No longer did he allow the hatred to overcome him. No longer was he a victim to the darkness. No longer was he trapped in the closet... He opened up about his sexuality, and in fact, used it as his primary weapon against his opponents. Instead of using rage against them, he'd use physical mind games... And he'd always leave them... with a kiss. The Kiss of Death. A french kiss, so hard, and so strong that it forced them into submission. A mandible claw... with tongue. Reeve entered the XAW training camp once more, and this time, he passed.
Reeve entered the XAW's lead roster at the age of 24, taking on the name 'raYne'. JVX, now a legend in the company, thought it to be ridiculous that raYne would return after being laughed right out of the building. Javex challeneged him to a match... a triple cage match, with JVX's World Title on the line... and if JVX won? Then raYne would leave the company, never to return. raYne had improved drastically... and proved to be a good match for "The Deite's Dragon". They fought to the very top of the triple decker structure, but after a long and arduous fistfight, Javex pummeled raYne to his back.
As Javex reached for the gold, raYne lifted his eyes from the steel mesh, and saw that JVX would soon defeat him... Reeve stood up, and rage began to surge through every facet of his being... He couldn't handle it anymore. He had had enough of always losing everything that meant so much to him... and of JVX continuoslly upstaging him... Reeve quickly grabbed Javex by the throat... Before tossing him from the top of the cage... all the way to the steel ramp below. Cracking JVX's vertebrate in seven places. The crowd was silenced... No laughing. No cheering. Not even booing. Only a stunned silence filled the arena.
Reeve grabbed the title... and in his very first official match with the company, became its top player. JVX's best friend, Vlad, took up for his closest compadre, and began feuding with Reeve, not only for the title, but for Javex's honor. After seeing him last time with Alexis, Reeve found his old best friend, Bass Monsoon, after a show, sitting on the hood of Reeve's car.
Bass told Reeve he was sorry for what he'd done, and wanted to make it up to Reeve. If Reeve would forgive him, Bass would bring in a couple of friends from a competing promotion, named Keys and Mystic. Reeve accepted the proposition, and together, they formed the Industry. After taking several beatdowns from the Industry, Vlad got together his friends, Leary Garcia, Mangler, and Steven A. Kult, to form the Underground. This war lasted until Reeve was 26.
At that year's pinnacle event, Born Again, the Underground met the Industry, in an eight man, elimination tag main event, which came down to Reeve and Vlad. Reeve was one the verge of losing to Vlad, with "The Dhampir" cinching in his "Blood Moon Rising" sharpshooter. Suddenly, just as Reeve was about to tap, XAW newcomer Krystal Dawn ran down to the ring, and distracted the ref. Reeve tapped, but with the official distracted by "The Punk Princess", Vlad soon ran out of patience. He released the hold, and shoved the ref... when from out of nowhere, Reeve rolled up Vlad from behind, and got the 3 count.
As Krystal ran into the ring to celebrate with "The ShowMan", the ring was literred with garbage. It was revealed on XAW.com that Reeve and Krys had been going out behind the scenes for a few weeks, ever since the triple cage world title match against Javex. Asked about his sexuality, and what happened to him being gay, Reeve simply stated "When did I ever say I was gay?". It soon became apparent that Reeve and raYne were two completely seperate personalites... locked inside the same person.
raYne, the colorful, flamboyant, and homosexual "Storm"... and Reeve, the depressed, gothic, but entirely straight, "ShowMan". Two men, one body. One in the same... but so different. Till his 29th birthday, Reeve and Krys made the most of the time they spent together, which was most of the time, as Reeve was able to keep his joyful self surpressed... constantly drenching himself in thoughts of death and darkness. Krys and Reeve became XAW's "Power Couple", and Reeve, having held the World Title for six whole years, was now the new face of XAW.
But on his 29th birthday, Reeve received a phone call... the voice on the other end sounded very familiar... a female voice... She spoke to Reeve... "Eight years, Reeve. Eight... long... years. You've left me unconcious for eight, fucking, years. And when I wake up, I get a call from your old pal... Bass. He let me know a lot of things about you, Reeve. How you'd achieved everything you ever wanted. A world title... power, fame, money... A woman that can't seem to pull her lips from around your dick. That little bitch you're with might as well find another boy toy, Reevie. Because the one she has now? Is about to go into a deep, DEEP coma of his own. And this is one you won't wake up from."
Reeve knew who it was. It was Alexis. Bass had come to XAW simply to become a mole for Alexis... and to let her know everything she needed to know to track him down. But when she made her way to St. Louis, the owner of XAW, Tony Stark, told her that Reeve had quit the day before, and didn't even bother to pick up his last check. On her way out, she saw Krystal Dawn... who was sobbing. Alexis asked her why she was crying, and Krys, not knowing who the woman was, thinking she was but a compassionate stranger, told her that Reeve never told her where he was going. Alexis hugged the poor girl, and leaned her head in close to the Gothic beauty's ear... whispering... "The same place you are, honey... straight to HELL." Immediately, Alexis slit Krystal's throat, but a cop nearby was able to catch her, handcuff her, and drag her to jail. Krystal bled to death on the way to the hospital. Alexis was sentenced to the electric chair.
At the age of 30, Reeve found out about the death of Alexis through a newspaper. The death seemingly lifted a weight off of his shoulders... almost as if the past he had lived was finally put to rest... and he could move on. He embraced his homosexuality once more, again changing his name to 'raYne'. He found work with a company called AWE, a company living its second life. A second life just as raYne Believed he was living... raYne Believed that AWE would be the company that XAW never could be... and that it would prove to be a true home for him. That is... Until its second closing.
His next match, prior to the closing, was to be for the company's prestigous 'Ironman' title. But once the doors were closed for a second time, he was left without a job... or a chance to start anew. raYne spun into yet another frenzy. For the fifth time, he had something he cared for taken from him... First, his mom. Then, Alexis. Then, his fantasy of being with Javex. Then, the only girl he believed had ever TRULY cared for him, in Krystal. And now, a shot at a new life... new hopes, new dreams... a life not filled with loss and broken promises. It was the fifth time in his life every single thing in his world had come crashing down upon him... raYne went on another quest to find himself... this time, back to his hometown of Nowhere, Oklahoma.
During the 22 years Reeve was away, his old babysitter had grown tired of Frank, finding him too old for her taste. After hearing the babysitter had left Frank, Beth Gordon ran back to her ex-husband as fast as her feet could take her. You see, since leaving Frank, Beth had lived a miserable life. Having nowhere to go, she lived out of her car, and the only work she could find was selling her drug-riddled body for small sums of money... and more drugs. But when she returned to Frank, she quickly discovered that nothing had changed. He still mistreated her. Any time she did even the slightest thing wrong, he would take the back of his hand to her... knocking her flat to the floor. And eventually, she grew very sick of this.
As Frank and Beth lie in bed, Reeve's mother... bruises scattered about every inch of her body, black eyes... snuck out of bed. But this time, she wouldn't simply leave Frank to himself, and leave for a life inside her small car. This time she decided to take his rifle from the mantle above the fireplace... And as he walked into the room, checking to make sure his wife hadn't left him for a second time, the last thing he saw was Beth, aiming the long, skinny barrel of his rifle straight at him... before she pulled the trigger, blowing his head clear off his neck.
As Frank's corpse fell to the floor, Beth fell to her knees sobbing... Not because she had killed the husband she knew for years... For she no longer cared anything for him. After all the garbage she had been forced to endure, there wasn't an ounce of love for him left in her body. No... that wasn't the reason she cried. She cried for she knew that she was headed to prison... possibly headed for the chair. And that now, despite the promise she had made to him all those years before, she would never have a chance to see her son again...
[2K13EDiT: "...we're in the fight of our lives. and we're not ready to die..."]
- Location: Nowhere, Oklahoma... Time: 10:22pm... Date: October 31, 2007 -
The night of Halloween... All Hallow's Eve. Beth Gordon sat on the cot of her prison cell... The only thing she could think wasn't the fact she was about to have her last walk... but instead, it was of all the fun times her son had enjoyed on this very day... so, so long ago. Beth had her eyes focused on the dirty floor... her hands cuffed together... She hummed a tune to herself. "Hush, Little Baby"... the woman, perhaps 50, slowly lifted her eyes... And after a few moments, she finally realized she had been staring into the eyes of her son for nearly three minutes... without even knowing it.
Beth quickly leaped to her feet, and ran to the bars... she lifted her cuffed hands up, managing to brush her fingertips gently against Reeve's cheek. One tear ran down Reeve's face... followed by another, and then another, until he was weeping... his eyes flooded with tears. He clenched the prison bars with his hands, leaning his head against his mother's palm. His face, covered by makeup... his fingernails, painted, his lips, glossed. He told his mother that he thought he may be gay... but she said it didn't matter to her. Nothing mattered but the fact that, for a handful of minutes, before her soul was judged eternally... for even the smallest amount of time, she would have the chance to be with her son... and to know that he's safe.
Reeve told his mother that he really didn't know who he was anymore... Gay, straight, bi... He didn't know if he was a dark goth, or someone flamboyant and full of life, and energy, and joy... He didn't know where to go. He didn't know what to do... He had been everywhere there was to go... he'd done everything he could think of, but no matter what he did, or where he went, Reeve had always been led down the path of heartache and dissapointment. He'd changed his name, and was on the cusp of getting his life straight... when the company he was in closed down. It seemed like he could never do anything right... that the world was against him... that he was destined to be a failure.
At that point, Reeve's mom told him, without hesitation, something that changed him forever. A breakthrough in Reeve's life... something that truly revealed to Reeve who he was, and what his purpose was. Beth looked into Reeve's eyes... before ripping her hand away. Beth stared at Reeve... her son... with a blank look. She spoke, "Reeve... you sicken me. I thought you were a MAN." Reeve stared at his mother with a look of disbelief... not comprehending how she could change so suddenly... she continued. "It doesn't matter if you're gay, straight, bi, goth, or flamboyant, or whatever the HELL you want to be. If you can't be a man... if you can't grow a SACK, and start standing up for yourself? Then the Truth is... you're no better than that piece of shit father of yours. I'm glad I shot him, Reeve. I'm not sorry for it, and if I had the chance to do it again? I'd gladly take that opportunity with a smile on my face. Because if I could do it again, I'd know just how much of a fuckin' piss-ant, pussy, cry-baby, BASTARD you are. You weren't worth the tears I shed that night. And you're not worth all the hours I worried away, thinking about how I should have found you when I had the chance... should have told you I loved you. Reeve... I don't love you. And if I had the chance? If I had the chance, I'd shoot you too. I hope... I pray to GOD... that I get sent to heaven. Because I don't want to have to look at your pathetic face when you're burning in hell."
Reeve stared at his mother... still gripping the steel bars... He lowered his head... and looked to the ground. He spoke, without looking up...
"Mother... there IS no hell." ... He lifted his head... and a darkness now stood in his eyes, replacing the sorrow that once belonged there. Reeve stared into his mom's eyes... into her soul. Reeve had a frown upon his face... but this frown soon curled... and transformed into a demonic grin. A smile so evil, so dripping with malice, that his mother began to tremble with fear. "There is no hell... and there is no heaven. When you fry in that chair, the only place you'll be headed is a box, six feet deep. You'll be a worm feast, mother. You'll be a worm feast..."
Reeve's mother began to back away, as Reeve kept on...
"There is no heaven above, no hell below, no god, no devil... but on this Earth? There IS a demon. A truly demonic, terrible, HORRIBLE spirit... And it goes by the name...
"....of Legion."
Reeve's mother's eyes began to widen... The guard came over to the cell, and told Reeve he would have to allow for the man to take his mother. It was time for her to take the long walk... Reeve smiled, and stepped to the side. The smile on Reeve's face sent chills crawling along the guard's sides... As the guard escorted Beth out, and just as she was about to leave, she turned an eye to her son... who said but one sentence.
"We Are Legion... For We Are Many."
Reeve had finally taken all the loss he could stand. Everyone he'd ever cared about had turned their back on him... and three months after his mother's death, he found out about the third coming of the company that had closed before he had a chance to reach that light that he had so desperately seeked. But now... now, he no longer dwelled in the light. Now, he was consumed by darkness. Now, he was filled by the spirits of so many different personalites and characters... almost like the different colors of paint that mix together, and form pure blackness. He didn't know who he was... But yet?
He did. He is Nothing.
Yet he is everything.
He is Legion... he is many...
And he is coming.
[2K13EDiT: "...someone save me from the hate."]
= = = = = = =
*static*
...
*beginTransmission*
-- 2K5 --
Do you see me?
I mean, REALLY see me?
Of course you don't... you've never seen me.
NONE of you have EVER seen me... for what I am.
Vlad. You call me a Javex immitator when I use the phrase "I am.", when in reality, 'I am' is NOT what I say... but what I Believe.
Callisto. I've heard what you say about me in the back. That I don't take others advice... that I "don't work well with others". But why should I work well with others, when the world is filled with people that have disregarded me with terms such as "queer" and "fag" and the list goes on and on...
[2K13EDiT: ...'worthless shemale'...]
And Crusher... the man that would be champion. You say I'm afraid.
...
Ahem... YOU... say I'M afraid. Aren't you the man that defeated a woman... not just a woman but HEATHER F*CKING STORM to get that title you hold so precariously around your waist? You are a mockery, my friend, a sham, a TRAVESTY OF GREAT PROPORTIONS. And the sad thing about it is, you have the curtain pulled over our chairman's eyes, your fellow stablemates' eyes, as well as the entire COMPANY'S eyes.
Except for one man.
Except... for Reeve. F*ckin'. Gordon.
You try and you try and you TRY to tell the world that you deserve that gold, but buddy keep TRYING. Because God knows that's all you CAN do is try. You may pull the wool over their eyes... but as long as I'm alive... as long as there's blood pumping through these veins and a breath flowing through my lungs, I will not believe that your title reign is anymore more than a run waiting to be ended.
Waiting... anticipating... for me.
Reeve. F*ckin'. Gordon.
Crusher... you've always been the third wheel. The odd man out in an odd bunch that calls themselves... the Dark Alliance. ... But really... what's so DARK about you three? I mean, where in the hell is Dark Demon? Why is Vlad kissing the ass of everyone and their mama? But think about it... before there was you... there wasn't just TALK of Dark Dayz. There wasn't just HYPERBOLE. There was substance to the hype. It was close to becoming a reality you could reach out and touch it... So close.
But then Crusher comes along. Mr. USA, Mr. Nice Guy, Mr. All-American! Yeah, you were a real ball of fire when you came into the top tier, werentcha? I mean, what was your biggest, greatest, most DAZZLING accomplishment?
...
Oh... yeah... that's right. Ya beat the tar outta Tara Rysing. A chick with a name so lame it makes "Gobbledygooker" look like a good idea! Man, you must have been REALLY proud, huh? Crippling a woman that had an easier time making the the superstars of XAW sweat in the sack than in the ring! But I'm sure you knew FULL well about all that... having spent some time in St. Louis yourself. As a LOST BOY!!! You, Tara, Apollo, and of course, the bane of my existence, Mikey. Of course, who remembers any of the members of the Lost Boys? The only reason I do is because it was BECAUSE of you cretins that I lost my chance at the World Title. And so, it all swings around in the gauntlet of time.
Crusher, you beat a woman to win the World belt. You beat a woman to win the US belt. And you're going to beat off to a woman to make yourself feel better after I beat your ass into submission, not only after I win the #1 Contender's rumble, but in the US-TV title tourney as well. At least... you'd make us BELIEVE you prefer the so-called fairer sex.
But c'mon Crushie-Wushie... I've seen those stares... those... hot, longing, SPARKLING stares that just seem to scream... "Take me Reeve... TAKE ME NOW!!!" I know you want me, Crush. But the thing is, you're just not my type.
I like my men to come equipped with a d!ck.
See ya at the pay-per-view, sweetie.
- truth -
"...on this day..."
[2K13EDiT: "My voice will be heard today...
...I got a hero livin' in me."]
=====================================================================================
- Your screen is black. Yet you hear a voice... a familiar voice... a disenchated voice. -
- A voice of disgust... at the idiocy of today's world... and the carelessness of its inhabitants. -
- Your screen is black... yet not void. You hear a voice... and this is what it has to say. -
"Heather Storm. The woman that came so close to becoming MCW World's champion... only to have it savagely ripped out of her hands by a man with half a peanut for a brain. Heather... we've never crossed paths. Yet I feel as though we have so much in common. We both have had a love for Callisto... we both have known what it feels like to hold gold for the first time... we've both traveled miles upon miles across this nation for the betterment of many of the greatest promotions this business has to offer... we've BOTH come within inches of shining as the pinnacle of the sport, only to have it taken away in the blink of an eye by someone so far below us we can't even see them without the aid of a telescope... and most importantly, and something you've pointed out yourself..."
[camera opens to Reeve sitting backwards in a wooden chair, with one leg on either side, arms folded atop the chair's back.]
"... We've BOTH been screwed over by that shovel-shoving, Home-Depot card-carrying, idiot among idiots himself... Mike Johnson."
[Reeve finishes this sentence and looks down at the wooden floor... before lifting his head slightly, just enough to let us see the wicked glint in his eye, and the sinister smirk on his face. The room Reeve is sitting in is barren, except for the wooden chair and floor. The room is cast in an eerie, pale glow, and Reeve does nothing to help ease the darkness which inhabits this place. 'The Show' is wearing no shirt, no shoes, no wig. Just his short, plain, jet black hair with spiked tips, and a pair of black leather pants. His hands are accentuated with black fingernails as well as a pair of spiked wrist bands, his lips are painted with ice blue lipstick, and around his neck is the crystal dragon pendant he's carried with him for ages. Reeve's eyes hide behind a pair of pure white contacts, as if his pupils are rolled deep into the back of his skull. And beside the wooden chair, there lies the one thing that remains from Reeve's past beside the pendant and Tony... the black baseball bat. The very same one that led to his first win in XAW, and the World Heavyweight Title that went along with it. His first match... and he walked out the top dog.]
[Scrawled across the chair's back is the word 'Truth' in black spraypaint. The very word that has been the driving force for 'The Show' for the last few months, heading toward the eventual fork Reeve has written poem after poem about. A fork that could lead to his ultimate success... or failure. One decision that must be made, and that has spawned hours upon hours of writing and reflection from our hero. That decision?]
"Do I stay on the path to the World title... or do I stay on the path to my vengeance upon Johnson. Ever since I arrived, I've been stuck between two roads, without a compass, without an atlas. Without... a tour guide."
"Until now."
"I've found my guide. And her name... is Storm. Heather, I know how bad you want that World title. And in the grand scheme of things, you haven't really had a chance. I mean, nobody thought you had a chance going into Heatwave... and on some level you proved them right. BUT. Along the way, you also proved that you did have what it takes to compete on the big stage. It was a triple cage match, just like the first match I competed in. And you were THIS close to doing now just as I did back then, and upsetting the critics' predictions by going home with the game's richest prize. But then... there was Crusher. The big oaf who had no right to leave with that strap. All he did was hang onto the cage for a couple of lousy minutes, and after you had given your all, he attacked you from behind and tossed you. He blindsided you, Heather. If you ask me, the man's a chickensh!t. He did nothing more than take advantage of a REAL champion's shining moment.
"He's a bast@rd. He's a coward. And the worst thing about it is... Our chairman is doing absolutely nothing about it. He's not even giving you a d@mn one-on-one match. A fair fight. A fight where you can SEE Crusher coming at you... instead of being caught off guard by a mindless monster twice your size and three times your girth... but HALF your ability, and nowhere near the charm, charisma, intellect, or beauty of you. No, Mike "The MYTH" Johnson did nothing about the travesty that occured on the 30th of July. It's been over a month now, and he's STILL done nothing. Now, Mike books Crusher in a NON-TITLE match... against a STABLEMATE! If you think even for one second that Mr. Vampire-pants is going to go easy on his pal Crushie-Wushie...
"...you're absolutely right. My prediction? Vlad does the j-o-b to Crusher in less than ten minutes, successsfully 'passing the torch'. At least, until Crusher's little stint with the gold is over, and he's ready to hand it back over to the man the Big Crush sucked up to for month's on end just so he could keep the title. Yeah, that's right. Because you all want in on a little secret? If Vlad REALLY wanted that title right now? I mean REALLY wanted that title? He'd snap Crusher's neck in half a second. *snaps fingers* Just like THAT. But Crusher has kissed up and kissed ass, and he's achieved the position of being the only man Vlad's willing to ALLOW to hold the belt if they somehow, someway manage to steal it from the Blood Clod's grasp. Well, besides Dark Demon. But who knows when the hell THAT guy will show up."
"Vlad knows it, Crusher knows it. Hell, the whole WORLD knows it. Crusher stumbled upon the gold. The gold Vlad claims as his own. And if Crusher had been any other man, Vlad would have pounced upon him in a heartbeat... Now, if I was the man that walked away from Heatwave with the title, I would have b!tchslapped the taste out of Vlad's mouth... but that's beside the point. Crusher won. Heather DESERVED to win... but Crusher won. And BECAUSE he won, Vlad was willing to let it slide. At A.D., Vlad'll lay down for Crusher, forcing the people to believe that Crusher is worthy of the championship in his possesion. This will, in turn, make Vlad's little hobbled-together 'Alliance' seem all the more strong, and when the time is right, Crush will repay Vlad's kindness, and the fact that he didn't tear him a new hole for the gold, with a quick and painless title drop.
"Really, it's a marvelous plot guys, it really is. But it's so thinly veiled a blind man could see it. And the Truth is... there are better men that deserve that title more than the both of you combined. And one of those men...is a woman. Heather... not only did you bust your ass in that match, you fought the naysayers that told you and the rest of the women in this business that they can't make it as a World's champion. I know that feeling, Heather. I've been dealing with the names for years now... 'f@g'... 'queer'... 'pillow-biter'... And although they're only names, they still hurt. Why? Because they're some of the most vicous, painful words a human mouth can utter. Especially the mouth of a father...
"But that aside, people look down on those they don't understand. And the human race tramples those that get in their way, even if those that get in their way are only trying to have their voices heard. Mike Johnson, just like the Alliance, are like that. They disregard anyone's voice but their own. Vlad and his pals SAY they no longer associate with Johnson, but the Truth is, as long as a man wants what someone has, that man will help him. Mike wants that World title in his camp... Vlad wants to rule this company. Crusher wants a moment in the spotlight, Vlad wants to boost his stable's position in the fed. So you can see why there would be motive there for a hand helping another, and one event leading to another. Heather, I may hate to say it, but it's True; I'm human. And so are you. We both want the title, and we both want to get our revenge on Johnson for screwing us over. The only problem is... We can't BOTH walk away from American Dream with the gold.
"Ever since I stepped into this company, I've been ranting about becoming 'Born Again'. But really... what do those words mean? To XAW [yeah, that's right, I'm not afraid to say it], it's just a way to rake in cash on ppv buyrates. To the Christian Religion, it's the reward given for faithful service on this Earth. And for the last several weeks, to me, it's been nothing but another gimmick. But in the end... something's got to give. There can be no more gimmicks. There can be only... Truth."
"...right now..."
"And the Truth is... there is no Born Again. There ARE no second chances. There is only one life to live, and once it's over, you have experienced it all. I had my chance at Alexis... and I blew it. I had a chance at the XAW Cruiserweight title. Blew that. Had a shot for the MCW World title at Heatwave... blew that too. Point is, once something's gone, it's gone for good. Heather, your chance for the MCW Championship comes Sunday. Now, Johnson can see what you've done. How much blood you've poured into that ring.... how much blood you shed on all three levels of that structure at Heatwave... and he can totally disregard it all. And then, to top it off... he compares you to Callisto. Heather, you're not in Calli's league. ... You're way, way, WAY beyond that.
"Callisto is to you as Jeff Hardy is to Christopher Daniels.
"Hardy tries to be 'extreme' by ruining his body by tossing himself through tables and wrecking his mind by covering his face in paint [no telling how many of his brain cell's that stuff's killed]. Whereas, CD is a TRUE athlete, with not only the greatest mic skills in TNA, but the greatest X-Division talents in the world. Heather... you are real, just like CD. Calli is a fraud, and you deserve so much more than her. You deserve to be with someone that cares about your desires to be the greatest.
"Calli? When she was with Scotty, she never believed he would walk away with the belt. She always thought it was HER destiny to be the one in that couple to becoem champion. And between you and me? She thinks the same of you. As long as you're together, she'll TELL you that she loves you. She'll TELL you that she cares. Hell, she'll TELL you just about anything just to get you into the sack. But the Truth is, as soon as she gets some gold around her waist, she'll forget about you faster than she did Scotty. But me? I'll be up front with you. I don't want to be with you like Calli does. I already have Tony for that. All I want is a chance for a mutual relation. You want the World title? I'll be in your corner every time you step in that ring. All I ask in return is help in my mission to bring down Johnson. You deserve revenge, just as I do, and together, vengeance would be ours.
"I want you to seriously think about this Heather. I don't care if you like Callisto, I don't care if you like NFH, hell, I don't care if you like to do the hooky-hooky at the Hooky-Hooky Lou... whatever that means. All I care is that you hate Dark Alliance, and you have reason to hate Johnson. And those are the only two reasons I need...
"...For a very beautiful friendship. Think about it Heather... and get back to me. Ciao."
[Reeve smiles at the camera, and pops his neck to both sides, before departing from view...
Leaving the camera to stare at the chair, and its lone message...]
- truth -
'i'm just a step away,
i'm just a breath away.'
‘Para-Pirutseo-Bal’: No, I said I always thought you would make a good wrestler, it just happened to be after your flops. You have the Television title…what better way to remake a career for yourself?
John Gable: The World title.
P.P.B.: Be patient, a trainee does not simply wait a few years then become a smith; he travels a journey like anyone else and like anyone else, he must face the unrelated difficulties as well. But I want to know what is going on in here.
He pointed to my head.
John Gable: I have been growing more and more paranoid. I feel as if Alexis and Humphrey are turning away from me. She never looked at me the same since I beat up that bum.
He nodded as if to signify that he understood.
. . .
P.P.B.: That definitely made some interesting television. I know I was on the edge of my seat.
John Gable: It’s not just her distrust of me. I feel like whatever they did to her on that house on haunted hill is what is mainly turning her against me.
I sighed and pulled the cap of my bottle.
John Gable: I can’t help but feel like she might be right. I have had these dreams that leave me with a pit of emptiness and I feel like I have been filling it with potent hateful thoughts. My whole head has been filling up with nonsense and it is starting to affect my sleep.
P.P.B.: Again, it is the God in you try to make its way out. Don’t suppress it.
It is darkest just before dawn
and the dawn will be so beautiful for you.
Just stay with it and try to indulge it if you can.
John Gable: I don’t think it is this God you keep talking about. I think I am just losing it.
He put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a reassuring shake.
P.P.B.: So how about this Scott Savage guy.
John Gable: I don’t know. He is kind of a shit stirrer which is fantastic in its own right, especially with getting noticed. But I am not sure if now is the time to be making alliances with such dangerous people. Rebellion is taking up enough time as it is.
P.P.B.: I think you should talk to him.
John Gable: Really?
P.P.B.: I would totally mark out for that.
John Gable: Mark what?
P.P.B.: Never mind, it is an alternate dimension thing…
I shrugged and took a swig from the bottle.
John Gable: Maybe it wouldn’t be a terrible idea. I mean he seems to understand where I am coming from and it would be nice to talk to someone who didn’t disagree with me all the time. Morientes questions every little thing I do.
P.P.B.: Morientes has one hell of a future in store for him. I see him going places.
I looked over to him with an unamused look on my face. He shrugged and tilted his head as if to say “A fan will be a fan”. With him proclaiming to be the kind of person he is, it is almost a challenge to disprove his prediction.
John Gable: Morientes has quite an event in store for him that is one thing that is for sure.
P.P.B.: You know what you need to do?
John Gable: What?
P.P.B.: You need to have fun again.
I haven’t seen you do an actual promo in a while. Go do one of your big productions that you like to do.
Show the world that John Gable can have a tangible thought still.
Sometimes, we must travel down our darkest path to find the light.
Sometimes we must hit our lowest point... to reach our highest.
#pray
...for with time?
you will be answered
by the same being that sought to destroy you.
ego me bello, my friends.
iAm in a war against myself.
"the countdown begins to destroy ourselves..."
|believe...
just in time.|
=============================================
[from facebook. long ago.]
Something else that helped my mood is my absolute FAVORITE Disney star, Jennifer Stone... And it was a little something she herself wrote... something that inspired me greatly to begin work on an idea I had a year and a half ago when I was laying on my kitchen floor, feeling sorry about losing my ex... The idea hit me as the rain poured outside... it struck like a lightning bolt. Watching the Avengers, I saw these creatures... the villains of the movie... and it was like the evil force in my story coming alive before my eyes... The Nothing.
"...come play my game..."
= = = = = = = = = = = =
Prologue : The Black Bat
= = = = = = = = = = = =
The Nothing - n. : Darkness. Emptiness. A hollow void. A lack of emotion, of heart, of feeling. It is a cancer. It eats away at everything and anything that it grabs hold of. Dreams become nightmares. Love becomes hate. And then? Then all becomes none. Because these things, twisted under its power, are so much easier to control. And it intends to control it all. From the pacific shore, to the darkest reaches of Africa. From the poorest families... to the very top of the ladder. It has no seperation of reality and fantasy. It knows no halting, even if it depends upon it.
It will stop at nothing, until the world as we know it IS Nothing. Nothing but a hollow, lifeless shell. The sooner we all realize this... the sooner we can cure this poison.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
February 24th, 2011 ~ "The Invasion of the Nothing"
By Jennifer Stone, 'Harper' of Disney's 'Wizards of Waverly Place'
"You know those times, when one of those five tricky, little senses is stimulated and it sends your mind into a fury? Your brain goes into overdrive. That dazed, blank stare washes over your face. You go somewhere really far away, thinking of nothing and everything simultaneously. You’re not sad. You’re not happy. Numb: that’s where you are. Your head is temporarily paralyzed so you can contemplate all that your brain has to work through to make sense of things.
"Then someone catches you and inquires nonchalantly, “What are you thinking about?” In that instant all of those thoughts crash into the dashboard of your mind like a six-year old you forgot to buckle up. You are whip-lashed back into reality. You know you have to answer. And answer quickly, so as to not to seem crazy or to raise concern. If only you could sum it up in one response. If you could describe it at all! Yet, you know you’re not going to be able to find the words. “Nothing” you reply. The perfect response to not raise any more questions...
"It’s amazing though. All of those thoughts, all of those musings, reduced to one meaningless response...
"How suddenly 'Nothing' infiltrates...
... and how easily 'Nothing' is forced to retreat."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ October 30, 1985 ~
*Drip*... *Drip* ... *Drip*
Drop, after drop. Tiny droplets of water filtered through the faucet, seeping downward, collecting into a blue, plastic bowl. The bowl slowly but surely filled with the clear liquid, like an orchestral piece gradually building toward the crescendo. Water... whether it come by way of rain or tap, is our body's life source. Our bodies consist of much of this precious liquid ; nature's energy drink. And so much more pure than a shiny can of Red Bull.
It was the night before Halloween, and the small town of Nowhere, Oklahoma was completely awash with the sights, smells and sounds that Autumn are made of. As they do year in and year out, the seasons were changing. No matter the time, no matter the circumstance, it is dependable; past, present, and onto the future... one thing remains consistent. Change.
The Eighties had been wild for most. The fashion styles, the outrageous music, the political climate and religious aspects. Every facet of pop culture and media had been as unusual as Cyndi Lauper, and as crazy as "Captain" Lou Albano.
But for the Gordon household, things were much more than crazy. They were almost psychotic.
You could say two parallel dimensions existed within those four walls: the one that existed for Reeve Gordon, the family's youngest child -- ; a wonderful, magical, near perfect world. And the other? A far darker world, inhabited by his father, Frank, his mother, Beth, and his elder brother, Axl.
The Gordon brothers walked along the kitchen tile toward the sink, to retrieve glasses of water. The two stepped over an object on the floor; a black baseball bat. Frank had bought the bat for his first born, Axl, when the boy was six, which seemed to Axl like eons ago. It was a time he wished, every day, that he could return to.
As they walked, Axl spoke quietly to his eight-year-old brother.
"Ok Reeve, remember. Be quiet, watch your step, take your drink as I hand it to you, and head back. We don't want to disturb dad. He can get kinda," Axl paused, grasping for the right word, "... cranky, sometimes."
Reeve looked up at his older brother and asked innocently, "Why does he? Doesn't he love us?"
"Well..." Axl looked down at his 8-year-old brother, whose eyes gleamed with hope, wonder, and the naive beliefs of a small child. "Of course he does, buddy. Dad loves all of us. He just..." Axl slowly turned his gaze to the side. Reeve looked at him still, anxiously anticipating his older brother's response. "Sometimes, dad just gets... lost."
Reeve continued to gaze at his brother with wide, sparkling eyes. "Well, we can find him."
Axl looked back at his brother, a half-hearted smile drawn across his face, as countless thoughts raced through his mind, but only one measly reassurance escaped his mouth. "Sure bro. We can."
Axl shook his head a bit, lost in thought. He turned to the sink, and poured a glass, first for his brother, handing it off to him and signaling for Reeve to head back to their room. Axl then began to pour his own...
A voice emerged from the distance, "The hell are you doin' up, you lil'...".
"Why don't you just DIE", Axl mumbled under his breath.
As soon as these words left Axl's mouth, a hand dropped over his shoulder like the blade falling from a guillotine. The hand clasped around Axl tightly, and spun the pre-teen kid around to face his father, Frank Gordon. He glared at Axl, his breath reeking of beer, a lit cigarette dangling loosely from his mouth. His fingernails were yellowed and chipped, his eyes bloodshot and filled with rage, and his fists were clenched into tight balls -- ready.
"How many times do I have to tell you? Don't. Fucking. Wake me... you WORTHLESS LIL' SHIT."
Axl's eyes narrowed into slits... and he stared back into his father's eyes with contempt and disgust. "You don't scare me, you... you BASTARD!"
At this, Frank chuckled lightly. "Oh really? I don't scare you? You little piss ant... There's not a day goes by I don't wish you woulda ended up as a stain in one ah my socks. But NO, I just had tah go an' sleep with yer momma, just cuz I got drunk one time."
Axl mumbled once again to himself, "One time? That's a laugh..."
Barely hearing the comment, Frank quickly whipped out his hand and grabbed hold of Axl by the throat. Frank sent his first-born son colliding with the cupboard below the sink, back first. A loud, terrible thud sounded through the house, a thud both Beth in her & Frank's room, as well as Reeve in his & Axl's room could hear.
Frank glared into his son's eyes, with a disgusted grimace curling at his lips... "You listen to me, you PUNK ASS runt. I pay the bills 'round here, do you understand this? It's ME that puts the food on our table. It's ME that puts a roof over our heads. And it's ME that decides what YOU do, what that tramp that is lucky to call herself my wife does... and what that snot-nosed, half-RETARDED sawed-off lil' brother of yours does. I made you two, and by GOD can I break you two just as quick."
Axl could literally feel the cold in his father's eyes; he felt like nothing more than a dog being scolded for wetting the floor. Frank slowly lifted his free hand up, preparing to strike his son, still clenching Axl's now raw throat in the other hand.
Frank growled harshly, breathing down Axl's throat, with his stench of alcohol and tobacco strong and overwhelming. "You will NOT back talk me, you WILL NOT disrespect me, and you will do whatever I say, no matter what I say, as long as you live in MY HOUSE. Now... are we clear?"
Axl responded, but rather weakly. "Y-yes...", he stuttered, before whispering, "Dick..."
Frank's eyes brimmed with contempt, as he bellowed, "WHAT?! What was that?!"
Axl eagerly began to reply, "I said..."
Suddenly, the sounds of footsteps were heard. Light footsteps, such as those belonging to a young child. Axl knew these belonged to Reeve. He returned his focus to his father, and began to backtrack his statement, "Nothing. I'm sorry... please forgive me."
Frank glanced at the door leading to the hallway. He growled lightly, before turning his attention back to Axl. "Anything to shield that little runt, eh Axl? Fine, you're safe. For now."
Frank dropped Axl unceremoniously, and the older son brought himself back up as fast as possible. Frank finished pouring the glass of water for his son.
Reeve walked through the door, rubbing his eyes, and yawning. "Wha- What happened? Daddy, big bro., are you ok?" Reeve gazed on, a curious expression upon his face.
The tiniest smirk creeped along Frank's lips, knowing quite well that he had Axl right where he wanted him. He eyed his older son, who was still rubbing at his sore neck. Somehow, though, Axl managed to muster up a faint smile for his brother.
Frank patted Axl on the back, much closer to a harsh slap than a loving tap. "We're just fine champ... aren't we Ax-man?."
Axl continued with the tiny, half-hearted smile, before looking up toward his father. "Thanks for the water... dad."
Frank peered down with only the slightest hint of anger, "No problem... son."
Frank lowered the glass, and Axl tried to take it. But as Axl tugged, Frank refused to let go. Axl pulled a bit harder; and Frank finally did let go, sending the glass of water crashing to the floor. Glass shattered and scattered across the tiling, water pooling between them.
Frank's mouth twisted into a vulgar grin.... "Awww man, lookit that mess! We're gonna have to clean that up, aren't we kiddo?"
Axl's sight rested sollemnly upon the floor... Slowly, tears began to well up in the corners of the boy's eyes, but he fought the urge.
Reeve asked his brother if he could lend a hand, but Frank quickly replied for him: "Nah, me and this big guy here can handle it. You just run along to your room, alrighty?" Reeve looked a bit wary, but told Axl "Goodnight" nevertheless. Axl answered back with a sheepish, barely audible, " Night."
Reeve scampered toward the kitchen door, but as his hand reached for the handle, he turned his head slightly to the side. He could see the smallest hint of trepidation on the face of Axl, the brother he usually saw as an unwavering, fearless leader. But every so often Reeve felt as if something was being hidden from him. As if there was a veil being cast in front of his eyes to keep him safe. And this was one of those times.
He then cast his vision upon Frank, who barely noticed Reeve's presence. Reeve saw within his father's eyes a hatred he had never before experienced... something sinister. He realized something was wrong, but fear took hold and prevented him from speaking. Reluctantly, the boy turned back toward the door, pulled the handle, and departed. As he did so, Frank looked down at the shards of broken glass. The plastic smile Frank displayed before was quickly replaced with a scowl, as he looked down upon Axl.
"Clean this shit up, you little cockroach. I need to crack something else, and this time? It won't be glass."
Frank made his way toward the door and took hold of the handle. He suddenly turned his head and smirked back at Axl. Axl bent down, picking up the glass, as vile words escaped Frank's mouth; filled with malice.
"Let me know if the screams are too loud. I'll make sure and quiet her down. Nighty night, champ."
Frank slowly drew the door shut, before the sound of footsteps progressed toward his and Beth's room. Axl continued to pick up the glass and toss it into the trash. He tried to block out the crashing sounds, amd then the cries and a single scream. Harsh howels of rage, loud moans of pain. And then... nothing. Nothing, but a low sob.
As the noise gradually lowered in his parents' room, Axl picked up the final shard of glass. Kneeling, he continued to become lost in thought. Slowly, he brought the glass closer and closer to his own wrist... But a call snapped Axl from his trance. It was the voice of Reeve, from the other side of the hall... further away than Beth and Frank's room.
"Axl! What was all that loud noise?! Is everything ok?!"
Axl shook his head to himself, and dropped the last piece of glass into the trash. "YES! Everything... Everything's ok, Reeve! Everything's ok." Axl, deeply lost again in thought, focused on the transparent, glistening glass held within his hand... He spoke softly to himself. "Everything's going to be... ok."
His vision drifted downward, and instead of looking at glass, he found what was left. Nothing but water. Pure, clean, crystal clear water. Axl lowered his forefinger, and slid it across the water's surface. He then stared into the cool, clear liquid, finding his reflection staring back at him.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Believer - n. : A Believer is quite different from a 'believer'. You see, a Believer... a True Believer... has power. Power that not many realize. Often not even they themselves realize their full potential until a certain point in time. A time that calls for much more than mere words. A time that calls for action. And when that time comes? Believing becomes being. And being becomes strength. A strength that can never be taken away. Believe...
... or Be left Behind.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ October 31st, 1985 -
It was early in the morning, and the sun was just beginning to rise. Frank turned over in bed... his eyes groggy. Even moreso than usual due to the large amount of alcohol he had consumed the night before. He felt the hang-over hit him like a tidal wave. And emotions swept over him that he normally managed to suppress. He stared through bloodshot eyes at the figure laying beside him. Beth, the woman he had devoted his love to all those years ago. The woman he had vowed to honor and to cherish. The woman he spent night after night berrating.
He felt himself swimming in a sea of memories... Young Axl. The boy he taught to ride a bicycle. The boy he used to watch pro-wrestling with every Saturday night. The boy he used to play baseball with. He bought Axl a specially built, custom black baseball bat. Every weekend, they would head to the local sandlot, and Axl felt pride in swinging that bat for the fences. But ever since Frank allowed himself to spiral into what he'd become, Axl couldn't get himself to touch the thing. And Frank knew this. And he knew why.
Frank gazed at Beth's beautiful face as she rested. He wanted so badly to tell her how sorry he was for everything he had ever done to mistreat her and their first-born. But he didn't.
And sometimes, the worst action you can take, is taking none at all.
As darkness descended that night, the cold wind howled, strong and sharp, following those children who wandered throughout town... clad in Mickey Mouse ears, princess tiaras, witch hats. But upon the head of one young eight-year-old boy, none of these things sat. Instead, he carried thoughts inside of it: thoughts of candy, yes, but much, much more. Hand in hand with his older brother, Axl Gordon, young Reeve was a Believer: a Believer in the purity of the human soul, the kindness within the human spirit, and the certainty that he would have a soft pillow to rest his head on when he returned home from his hunt for chocolate and jawbreakers. He would be sleeping gently in his bed, with his brother, his father, and his mother all there to protect him.
Reeve wore the costume of his favorite monster -- a vampire. His jet-black cape lashed behind him in the wind, his plastic fangs protruded from his mouth. Reeve had always held a special place in his young heart for this day. Each year, he would trek through the rural town of Nowhere with his brother Axl, always sharing the fun of dressing up and pretending that they were someone else. Always laughing together as they smiled and ran up to each individual house, gathering as many goodies as two plastic jack-o-lanterns could carry. Reeve always loved this time of the year, as did his brother, Axl; it was one of the few times of the year that he and Reeve could leave the reality of their home behind, if only for a moment, and escape.
Axl was clad in the outfit of his favorite professional wrestler, "Mighty" Mike Malone. He looked down at his little brother, calling him by name to grab his attention : "Reeve."
Reeve glanced back. "Yeah, big bro.?"
Axl tapped his watch. "It's getting pretty late, I think we should head back. Besides, all the good houses have already shut off their light and turned in for the night."
Reeve smiled. "Awww, ok. I was wantin' to fill this thing up to the top!"
Axl returned the smile. "Oh, trust me kid, you have enough sweets. I'd be surprised if you weren't spending the next five weeks bouncing off the walls!"
Reeve beamed with delight, and giggled gleefully. "Let's get home so we can chow down!"
Axl hooked an arm around his brother's shoulders and ruffled his hair a bit, as the two smiled and laughed contentedly. The red, yellow and orange tinted leaves spiraled in the fresh autumn air. They fell from the nearly bare trees and span across the dying grass. And as the kaleidoscope of color transformed the scene, surrounding Axl and Reeve with sheer brilliance, the chilling fall wind brushed along, nipping at the brothers' heels. They headed home to begin digging into their collection of candy.
The Gordon homestead, a house of dissaray. Beth Gordon stood near the hallway leading to the bedroom belonging to her and Frank. Frank sat in his Laz-E Boy, turned away from his wife, fuming with anger but refusing to stand, and choosing instead to chug down beer as he yelled.
"For the LAST time, it's NONE of your damn business!"
But Beth yelled back, the first time she had ever found the strength to do so. "TELL ME FRANK! I've had enough of the lies and the deception! You can't hide the truth anymore! Not from me! Not from our sons! You hear me?! I want to know how these panties found their way into our bedroom, because I know damn good and well they aren't mine!"
Frank let loose a deranged cackle. "For once you're right... those sure ain't yours, ya old bag! Your idea of 'sexy' is when you decide tah shave that shag rug down between yer thighs!"
Beth's eyes widened with hate, "Screw you, Frank! Why should I even try to be sexy when I'm married to a drunken ASSHOLE like you?!"
Frank grew silent for a split second... before letting out a disgusted grunt. "Because I'm the man. And you're just a woman. It's your JOB to please me, you bitch!"
Beth's eyes nearly bulged from their sockets at this point, as she asked the question once more. "You're finally pushing me to my limit, Frank. Just tell me. Whose are these?"
Apparently having had enough back-talk to push him to his boiling point, Frank tightened his hold on the recliner's armrest, his eyes filled with fury.
"Ya wanna know? I mean, ya really wanna know?"
Frank suddenly shot up from his seat, to his feet, spun around, and slowly crept toward his wife. "They belong to a REAL woman. A girl who's more woman than you could ever even hope tah be; Reeve and Axl's babysitter, Jessica!"
At this, Beth gasped. "Franklin! She's only 18! She's barely even of legal age! And you're 34 for CHRIST'S sake!"
Frank, almost nose to nose with his wife, displayed a smile bordering on satanic, "And yet? She's STILL more woman than you are, ever have been, or ever will be. Sad, isn't it?"
Beth's eyes drilled holes through Frank's blackened heart... something Beth had wished to do literally for longer than she could remember.
"You. You..."
Frank returned the vengeful glare that Beth sent his way. He eyed her with a menacing stare, fiery and chilling in the same second. He balled up a fist. Beth had no intention of backing down. Frank quickly grabbed his wife by the throat, and yet she still maintained her inner-strength, refusing to give up the fight. Gripping Beth by the neck, Frank slowly reeled back...
Suddenly, the front door swung open, and Reeve and Axl stepped inside, baskets filled to the brim with candy, and smiles on their faces. But as they saw their parents, the smiles were immediately wiped away. Beth, rubbing at her throat, desperately pleaded, "Boys, please, go to your room..."
For years, Axl had tried to shield this side of their dad from his younger brother. After losing the relationship he had once had with Frank, he spent much of his time trying to give Reeve what the bottle had taken away from him. Axl tried to urge Reeve to leave for their room, but Frank snarled, "He doesn't leave this room! I didn't get up outta muh chair to put this off for another minute, and if that boy's here, he's gonna stay here. He can think of me what he will, I just don't care anymore, ya got me?! Beth, you listen, and you listen good. I'm ending you, woman. Right here, right now, in front of those two lil' pukes!"
Frank turned toward Axl and Reeve. "You open yer eyes wide fer this, kids. Yer momma's gonna take a lil' nap. And she ain't never wakin' back up! Now -- "
Frank began to turn his head back toward his wife. But in that one moment of distraction, Beth found the opportunity to bring a vase crashing down upon her husband's skull. The force drove Frank to the floor, nearly unconscious.
Beth turned to her children.
Tears streaming fast and steadily down her cheeks, she whispered to both of her babies. "Axl... promise me you'll take care of your brother. I know it's a lot to ask of you, but you're all he has. And I Believe you have the strength inside of you to be the man your father can't be. And Reeve, please trust me. I'll come back for you both. One of these days. I can't tell you why, but I've got to leave you now. But I know you can both pull through this. You're both so strong. So smart... If you just Believe, you can both do such great things. Just stay together, and keep my spirit in your hearts... I'll always be there. I love the both of you... Goodbye for now."
Axl screamed, tears flooding his eyes, "Goodbye?! But mom, why?! You can't leave us! Not now! Not with him! I--I can't stand up to him. I just..."
But it was too late. The door had already opened and closed before the final cry could escape Axl's lips. Beth was gone. And Frank was already beginning to stir.
"The HELL..."
Frank reached his feet. He stared over at his two sons, and realized that his wife had left him. And the only thing he could think to do was blame the two kids standing before him.
"YOU! You two little... BASTARDS." Frank reached out for Reeve, to do what, one can only guess. But from out of the blue --
*THWACK!*
Frank teetered forward, before falling flat on his face from the impact of a black baseball bat. The very same bat Frank had bought Axl for his sixth birthday. The two had shared so many times simply playing together, as a family, before the head of the Gordon household had let alcohol twist his mind into uncontrolled madness. To consume him, to corrupt him, and to transform what love rested in his heart. Axl stood above his fallen father, with a sick smile spread across his face; the very same smile that Frank displayed on many an occasion: a fake, plastic smile, masking the pain and resentment within.
Axl looked down upon his dad, eyes burning with terrible anger. "How does it feel, DAD? How does it feel to be ASSAULTED with that thing, huh? You remember, don't you? You remember the last time one of us swung that thing? Because I still do -- all too well...
"You may have messed with me. You may have messed with my mom. But you are NOT messing with MY BROTHER!"
Reeve's face was full of fear. "Axl, what's going on?"
Axl turned to his brother, dropping the bat to the floor. The demented smirk left his face, as he looked at his younger brother with a face of simple reassurence.
"Reeve, don't worry. Just... don't worry. Things may look bad right now. but they ARE going to be better. I Believe they will."
Axl rested a hand on his brother's shoulder, before pulling him in for a tight hug. Axl whispered gently, trying his best to calm his scared sibling, and to rid Reeve of his fear; trying even harder not to show his own.
"Bro, as long as we're together, nobody... and nothing... can mess with us. We have eachother's back. And I'll be there to protect you. Always remember that... always."
Axl wiped a tear from his eye, and headed off to their room after patting Reeve on the back. But before Reeve followed, he looked down at the floor, staring at his father. And then at the black baseball bat. Reeve reached down and grabbed it, lifting it up with his right hand, and rolling it around in his left, before taking it with him to his and Axl's bedroom.
Frank's bruised body rested upon the floor, two jack-o-lanterns filled with candy sitting near his head. On the night Reeve and Axl loved so dearly, the night some call 'All Hallow's Eve', the magical world of young Reeve had come crashing down around him... and his perfect vision of the human condition had been shattered.
~ to be continued ~
"whatever tomorrow brings?
i'll be there."
March 20, 2013
Anything Goes
By JennStone
Anything to feel anything.
Skin punctured,
flesh scarred,
lines crossed,
mistakes made,
numbing, escaping, running:
All for the sake of feeling something,
Anything.
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With and Without the Rose Colored Glasses
July 23, 2012 ~ By Jennifer Stone...
We all lead two lives.
One of met expectations and fantasies.
The second of actuality, where expectations rarely come into fruition.
This life is filled with acceptance of the disappointments.
... Acceptance,
And the hope that they won’t be so often.
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. . .
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February 21, 2011
Me and My Shadow
By: JennStone
Each of us has two people sharing their namesake.
One person is the being who walks around and who interacts with the rest of the known world.
The other is the one we wished walked the earth.
Both share similarities. They are virtually the same in essence, but one is the improvement of the other. Very few folks bring out this 2.0 version of themselves. It usually resides forever in the wishful minds of those that long to improve themselves. It frustrates us to no avail. We feel the ultimate version of ourselves is forever trapped by our fear and indolence. Yet we are comfortable letting it stay in our self made confinement.
Why do we accept our own mediocrity,
When our own excellence is right there?
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"You’re not a failure until you stop trying.
If you have no other testimony, you have this one:
'I’m still here.'
~ Marc Mero
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"I just realized what my 'NeverEnding Epic' truly means...
... I will never give up.
Regardless of if I'm the only one that cares."
~ $|-|3
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"So, back to the student begging me to tell her if she has what it takes to make it or if she should 'stop writing right now'. The best answer is to tell her that it's not up to me. Is she willing to keep reading and practicing writing until her eyeballs bleed and the letters wear off her keyboard? Because that's what she needs to be doing at this point in her embryonic career. Is she willing to keep writing even when no one else is reading her work, even if no one else cares whether she writes or not?
"Because all that matters, really, is that she cares.
"And is she willing to keep writing even after an agent, editor or anonymous colleague has just delivered a withering critique of her work, the kind that stops a less determined writer cold. Because the truth is, I've met a lot of other writers along this path, writers who were more talented than I was and who, for one reason or another, put down their pens long ago. But I'm still here. Which is, I suppose, another kind of answer.
"I'm still here."
~ Stephanie Vanderslice
#with_open_arms_and_open_eyes
#take_the_wheel
