Post by logan on Nov 22, 2006 18:54:44 GMT -5
To Whom It May Concern:
When it pours, it pours. That's exactly just what it was doing. If I knew what was to come of all this rain, I would've just found another way of transportation. But now, I was being threatened for my life. I wouldn't call this a near death experience, because I have yet to believe that I will live through this. I'm writing this letter now, and keeping it in my back pocket incase someone is to find my body. I hope no one finds this letter if that's the case, because I'd rather just throw away if I make it through this. Well, I guess I better introduce myself. If you've recognized this handsome face, and this trim figured.. then yup you guessed right, it's Logan, the WCF superstar. If anyone finds this letter before reporting my body to the police, then I hope you burn it after read, and just tell the public that I died wrestling a bear. Yes, that's it.. tell them I died training against my match for Reckless Jack, so I wrestled a bear. It'd make for a nice story. I wish Steve Irwin had this option before he passed, because I'm sure anyone could've came up with more heroin story than the one that sadly happened to him. It's hard to write at times like this, it's very cold, and it hasn't stopped raining for god knows how long. My body has become stiff, and weak.. I can barely move. But as I was saying, let me note that again.. I died wrestling bears. Got that? Okay, let's just make sure that gets it's way out. That would probably spark a fuse with WCF. Eh, the last thing I'm thinking about right now is that place. You know what's funny? You never picture yourself being lost in the woods. It's like when you watch them shows Survivor, you totally think that's cake. But no, being lost in the woods is no walk in the park. It's almost as if every direction you turn looks the same, and swear at one point I thought I walked in circles. Ow, something just bit my ass cheek. As cold as it is, I still felt that. It's not exactly comfortable as you would think laying inside a log, but it's better than being soaken wet, and it is a bit dry in here. Like I was saying, it's easier to get lost in the woods than you'd actually think. It being 2006, and all.. you'd think we have some form of technology to help us avoid these situations. I had a cell phone, but it was stolen, and it's probably being sold on EBay right now as we speak. I also had a car too, but that's sitting off on the side of the road broke down somewhere. Hopefully they'll come looking for me if they were to find it, but hell.. I don't know even know where I am. It's a long story, and I doubt I have enough paper left to let everyone know what happened to the great Logan. Heck, I'm lucky I had a paper, and pretty glad it actually dried. Speaking of which, I'm almost running out of paper, and I doubt anyone will probably read this anyway. As far as I know, the asshole that finds me will probably search through my pockets, take my wallet, and kick my body into the river along with this stupid note. Oh well, good bye everyone, and I'd also like to add that I ne--
Logan runs out of space on the paper.
Logan: Oh son of a.. I can't even write my own goodbye letter. Maybe people have been right all these years, do I talk too much?
Logan shuffles around in the tight spot within the log, and folds the paper slipping it in his back pocket just as he said he would in the letter.
Logan: How did I, Logan, of all people wind up here? Heh, what a day.. what a day..
Logan tries to make himself comfortable as much as he can, while staring up at the inside of the logs, and listening to the rain fall on the leafs outside in the forest.
Logan: If I would've only flew a plane..
Logan thinks about to the events earlier today that transpired.
Eight Hours Ago
Logan is walking to his car which is parked in a parking lot outside of a restaurant, it's morning outside. Logan seems to be talking on his cell phone.
Logan: No planes, I go by road. Why? Do you listen to the news?
Logan pauses.
Logan: Oh, I guess not. I guess that's why you don't hear about all them stories with celebrity's getting into plane crashes. Yes, it's all rigged man. More celebrity's die from plane crashes then normal people. I'm kind of hated too, so they'd have more than one reason to put me on the news with a plane crash. I'm crazy? SHUT UP!
Logan hangs up his cell phone before opening up the door to his car, and getting inside. The scene fades away to another as Logan is now found driving down a highway. The Beatles "Paperback Writer" is blaring in the car. Logan checks his gas gauge.
Logan: F'n car, burns gas faster than anything. Heh, maybe Lawnmower Jones was ciphering gas out of my car to keep Lonnie running.
Logan laughs to himself, before pulling off into a gas station parking lot. The place looks a bit run down, and old. It probably barely ever gets much business on this highway. Logan parks his car next to a gas pump, and steps out. Logan opens up his gas cap placing the hose inside the gas tank before making his way inside the store. Inside the store looked just as bad as the outside. Stale cold chicken sat in a little lit up stand that said "fresh chicken", it looked days old. Logan walks over to where all the drinks are stored, and opens up the door grabbing himself a Coca Cola. The cell phone suddenly rings again while the clerk behind the stand stares at Logan watching him.
Logan: Hello? Uh yeah, I'm on the way.
Logan looks over at the old man behind the cashier staring at him.
Logan: What am I doing now? Ha, being stared at by some old boudle. Huh? Nevermind.
Logan approaches the desk, and places his soda on it.
Logan: Twenty on pump two.
The cashier rings up the soda.
Logan: No, I wasn't talking to you. Hold on..
Logan hangs up his cell phone placing it on the desk, and reaches in his back pocket taking out his wallet handing the clerk the money. The old man continues to stare at Logan as Logan grabs his soda walking outside. Logan grabs the gas pump, and puts it back before closing his gas cap. The smell of the gas lets off a funny scent, it just smells weird. Not like it sound. Ignoring it, Logan hops inside his car starting it up. Just as he's about to pull off he checks his pants for his cell phone, and then realizes he left it inside the store. Logan gets out of his car without turning it off, and walks back inside the store. Logan looks over the desk, his cell phone nowhere to be seen. Logan then looks to the clerk, who happens to be once again staring at him.
Logan: Hey, did you see me leave a phone here?
Clerk: This "old boudle" ain't seen nothing.
Logan glares, realizing the old man caught the insult from before when he was talking on the phone.
Logan: Fine, whatever. Keep the phone..
Before Logan leaves, he pops his head back into the store.
Logan: Boudle!
Logan walks out of the store looking a bit frustrated as he makes his way back to his car.
Logan: That old boudle jipped me. I'm Logan, I can buy 300 phones if I wanted too. Oh well, I don't care anyway.
Logan takes off in his car, flipping The Beatles back on, and heading back down the highway. The weird scent of that gas becomes more stronger, and grows unbearable as Logan gets miles away from the store. The car suddenly starts making phone noises, and shuts off. Logan pulls it over to the side of the road.
Logan: I knew there was something up with that gas! It must've been old, or something.. hell if I know. Damnit, that old man got me twice.
Logan gets out of the car, and locks it before slipping the keys into his pocket. Logan begins walking down the road in the dark. This highway ran through the country, so there isn't a street light in sight.
Logan: I guess I'll just hitch hike, it's not like I haven't done it before. I've actually done it plenty of times before a match. Plus, the next town is only a few miles away so it shouldn't be that bad. I've been down this road millions of times.
Logan keeps walking, and has walked a pretty good distance away from his car. Not one car has passed by in the last twenty minutes since he's been walking. Suddenly a rain drop hits Logan's head.
Logan: Did a bird shit on me again? I got the best luck.
And after that single rain drop that Logan thought might've been bird shit, millions more begin to fall after that. It starts pouring down. Hard.
Logan: Perfect.
The rain doesn't let down, and Logan's clothes are soaked. Logan keeps on walking, and soon notices two bright lights coming his way. Logan stands there, drenched, holding his thumb out as the two big lights draw closer. The drive doesn't see Logan, or just doesn't bother to stop because his speed never gets any slower. Before we know it, Logan is almost hit, and has to jump off the side of the road. What Logan didn't know, is that he was actually walking over a bridge at that moment, and it was too dark to tell. Logan blindly leaps over the guard rail of the bridge, and goes falling down into the darkness. A loud splash is heard, and soon Logan floats down the river unconscious. Logan's body floats down the stream, and finally makes it stop washing Logan up against the shore. Logan's body lies in some weeds, and he lays there for a few hours before finally waking up. The rain is just as bad as it was hours before, if not worse now. Logan slowly sits up, seeing his breath in the air as it has grown a bit colder now. Logan stumbles to his feet leaning against a rock, and holding a bad bruise on his side. Logan finally gathers up the strength to begin walking, and what a walk it is. It's nearly pitch black, and Logan finds himself running into trees sometimes. Everything looks the same in the woods. Tree. Tree. Rock. Rock. Leafs. Leafs. Nothing is different, and it drives Logan crazy. Panic begins to rush inside him, and the fear of getting sick if not dying out here shoots into his mind. He begins breathing more heavily, and the soreness on his side begins to slowly fade away with each minute that passes by. The coldness, and wetness temporarily numbs his pain. Logan gets more frustrated, and frustrated as he keeps walking around in the woods. He finally comes to a stop, sitting down on a log.
Logan: Wasn't I..
Deep breaths.
Logan: Just.. here..?
Logan's body is becoming more limp, and weak. The fear of death rushes over him more now as he lays on top of the log letting the rain drops soak his body even more now. Logan watches the fog of his breath escape his mouth before looking down inside the log. Logan notices that the log is hollow, and actually fairly dry inside. Logan slowly climbs himself inside the log, and this log will become his home for the rest of the cold wet night. Logan tries to make himself as comfortable as he can inside the log, before taking out a pin, and surprisingly dry paper to begin writing a letter. Logan slowly begins to write the letter as his hands tremble, and shake.
Too be continued..
