Memories

[Chief Tom-O-Hawk]

.:: ::: ::.
With night fading fast
Let us walk to keep the time away
My heart is so cold
I know what is right
What to do when all has passed away
Will you still stay strong?
Steadfast when will has gone?
.:: ::: ::.

Fate is not cruel nor unjust. It is neither right nor wrong. It is simply what it is. Never changing, never altering the design it has for us. We may think we have it fooled; we may even think we made it move, but we haven't. But to dream; to hope, it is both for a fool and yet so much more. At least in theory.

A storm is approaching, even though the skies have yet to darken; the thunder yet to be heard; the lightning yet to strike. However, there is sense in the air, the winds are calm almost serene as if something just took the energy right from them. Then as if in defiance, it howls a call unknown to any form of sound, but you can feel the anguish; sense the burden that is carried on its shoulders.

Lonely is the road that cars speed down, back and forth the images go, oblivious to what's around, to the one who moves slowly, the image is clear, but he does not see it. He can't afford that luxury, not that he knows he has it. But he continues on, alone. How many times has he walked this road? He's lost count, not that it matters. For all that he's done and as hard as he's worked, he's often wondered if this is truly as good as it gets?

Is it me? He often wonders. No, it can't be.

He's pushed that thought from his mind a thousand times, but yet it continues to creep in. No matter how busy he keeps himself, how hard he may work; what hobby he may throw himself into next. That same undulating thought repeating over and over and over. And with every repeat, it lingers that much longer. Until now when hours are spent pondering that very question. It can't be, is it?

"I know it wasn't your fault. Everyone does, but I get the feeling that we're part of something bigger than the both of us, again. At least that's what I keep getting told... from something deep inside me that refuses to stay calm."

.:: ::: ::.
As here we stand hand in hand
In this funeral night
Can't I see that we both will fall
Can't you see my dry tears
On this skin so cold
Even now the Reaper comes
Though you are here I am afraid
I am afraid, my love
Afraid I love the reaper's scythe
The swipe of death claiming my strong willed uncle
Justice is claimed
Justice is dead
.:: ::: ::.

He has done whatever was asked of him and this is the result. Sadness, agony and worst of all resignation... and eventual return from the worst agony yet.. retirement. He doesn't know why he continues to do what he does; a desire to be the best? Maybe. The desire to be a hero? Maybe. To fit in and be accepted? Without question. But that can't be it can it? It can't be that obvious, it never is.

The clouds are beginning to roll in now and the temperature has dropped some five to eight degrees in a matter of minutes. It's inevitable now, fate has decided this is what must come to pass and when it's mind is made up, there is nothing he can do about it.

"Things are never quite what they want to be and lesser still as we might imagine them. There is no pleasure in what is to come; not this time. For it may be the last time for you. I know one thing, it will be the only time. I can see the walls crumbling around me and despite my efforts to keep them up, they fall, as all empires do. This time I know is different, they'll be no rebirth, no rising from the proverbial ashes. The remains are abstract now, the enemy taking on a headless form. Soulless and unending, my new strategy against you Adam Young... I will not be ruled by logic and experience. This time.. I step into the ring not as Freezer Burn... you deal with me.. the man.. Wayne Hammon... the decorated war veteran.. Crafted from the United States Marine Corps Infantry."

"They have all come and gone; friends, enemies, those that were neither and ones that should never have been. Each time I have stood the test of time. Fate has it's own course for me, or have I slipped between the cracks?"

"I look upon the world and wonder is this what we have become? And I think to myself, what have I done? What do I have to show for it? Memories, the bane of any existence and the very things that haunt my soul, things I wish I could relive, or redo or never have done. Choices made and ones that should have been."

"Like the one that I know is coming; the one that is going to pacify a few and anger others. As is the motive for most memories, this one comes equipped with the side of regret and guilt. The unending question of should I or shouldn't I, but in the end I'll know the choice was never mine to make, I’ll do it anyway. Once again fate stands before me; taunting me, showing me glimpses of what could have been instead of the GOD I am"

"But rather than foster depression, what comes of this is anger and rage the likes of which are never truly understood. Why? Because of the cold, calculating shell that masks the intensity that lies within. I have never left the world of Professional wrestling, despite what it's done to me; the hell it's put me through. The mockery and the sheer arrogance of ego of never letting something get the better of me, you might say and it would be true to a degree. However, it is this same being; this same creation that from it spewed what I now am."

.:: ::: ::.
With night fading fast
Warmth is but a memory of youth
As our day grows old
I can't bear to part
With so many things I hold so dear
But all things must fall
How well I know the grave
We must stand strong
And face our fears until the end
'Til the time when truth is found,
When at last we can rest
.:: ::: ::.

"There was a time when the powers that be were kind. I can remember with vivid memory a day, where I can say I felt truly happy. But then as quickly as it came it was gone again, teasing me with what should be. I look at the ignorance and stupidity of youth and wonder often what any of them would do even ten years ago. I long to be a part of things, I know I never can be and it is that very essence that spurs me onward. Today's society makes a mockery of what its founding fathers built for it. Things that are often referred to as necessity would be laughed at in years gone by. It makes me sick and yet I look upon elements of it with a sense of passion I never knew that could exist."

"Fate alone will be my judge; not anyone here and let my mark fall where it may. Things weren't meant to be this way Young and you should know that better than anyone. And you also know what burns inside of me the same way I do you, the absolute refusal to be defeated in spirit, in body, in mind. Say what you will about how I’ve crossed the line, how you’re going to kill me, how you’ve got friends in that place or this, how someone else is coming back with their army of woes, but rest assured there isn't anyone that can match my intestinal fortitude... not you.. not Slade.. not even your new tag team partner for this week. But we're really talking about semantics here aren't we? And isn't that exactly what the bane of society wants us to do?"

"There is something out there that is bigger than all of us but I refuse to succumb to it. With every temptation fate sees fit to flaunt in front of me, every want that I know I'll never have, my resolve grows that much stronger. When I look at the stars from my barn each night in hometown hicksville Iowa, I don't wonder what else may be out there nor do I wonder if I'll ever get there. No, what I see out there are the hopes and dreams of the world. Somewhere out there, there is someone making a wish, uttering a desperate hope, or making a pledge to something unseen. And I can hear the fates laughing at all of them, and it makes me sick. It is then I realize what first brought me here, what started as a game for fun became a commitment and beyond that a way of life."

"Perhaps, this is meant to be the ultimate test, the last temptation if you will. Deep down though, I can hear the laughter, the mockery, the almost gleeful tones that fate has uttered. They know my gaze, the look in my eyes, know it well. This is another test, another test to see if I'll break. Although in my heart I know it won't be possible, but when this trial has ended and I look upon the stars, they will reveal to me that in fact I have done well, that I have done right. Then again, this may just be the beginning of something that was never meant to be comprehended."

"And when this insurrection has passed, when the insatiable has been quenched, maybe then there will be time enough for reflection. To listen to what I know I must be doing, what I should be doing, maybe this is will be the motivation to do what I never ever thought possible. Maybe this time, I'll listen. So I listen.. and in doing so find the truths necessary to ill you, Young. So now.. I refuse to destroy you.. let the match go as fate intends... dig deep inside and use all my stored emotion not for a whole match... but for one single move. And when that one move compresses onto you.. I will have my win over you.. and you, Adam Young.. will self destruct.. and be simply .. forgotten. No, maybe not forgotten, maybe simply seen for the fool you are and forever remembered for it"

.:: ::: ::.
Even now the Reaper comes
Though you are here I am afraid
I am afraid, kindred one
Afraid for you
for you fail to see
your own mortality
.:: ::: ::.

The skies finally open and rain begins to fall, just a drizzle at first, then heavier and heavier until the trees themselves begin to bend. Lightning crashes and a burning sulfur smell fills the air, the wind begins to howl its song and shadowed forms whisp throughout the void, playing the outskirts of vision, did I see or not see. The winds themselves grown black and ominous, slowly closing in closer to the form of Wayne Hammon and still he stands there, oblivious to the imminent dangers around him.

Shadowy forms take shape, getting closer, skeletal arms reaching out from the wraiths to seek the one living, the one breathing, the one with life within the void. Grabbing but not gaining, touching but not gathering substance, screeching agony at their failure yet still reaching out and trying again and again.

“Memories are such a fragile thing. Memories are such a fragile thing. Memories are such a fragile thing. I say this three times so that Psychopomp can remember it. Having them is often overlooked, sometimes loved, sometimes inconvenient, but alas with you .. some are missing. Who is forgotten? What have you done? Is it something you once wished to forget? Memories are such a fragile thing.”

“With the burden of forgetfulness remembrances, you now have with it the great task of stepping into the ring against a GOD. I am an athlete, a mental assassin, a manipulator amongst other things. I am power, and strength of will, the likes the WCF knows not how to handle yet. I am .. NOT .. angry, but a supreme being filled with the hate of society and I am the deliverer of sins back to you.”

“What I do to you could cause you to remember or forget more than you already do. A jolt to the brain in either the right or wrong spot could have devastating effects in the ring. The trauma of sudden rememberance will cost you a win and at a crucial time. You have to bring it all in.”

The whisps and wraiths close in like a cyclone, spiraling around Wayne Hammon, a vortex of abominations. Furious at the life in front of them, furious at not being able to touch life again. With a simple breath, Wayne Hammon sucks in the darkness, the lifeless, the energy of the souls of the wraiths, infusing into his spirit of GOD.

The sky is clear. The winds are calm. The GOD learns of his power.

.:: ::: ::.
Half a life in ruins,
half a life remains.
None left for the Reaper
to taketh from the grave.
The Drifter glides across the sands
of Time among the souls
With no trace of memories,
they have nothing left to hold.
.:: ::: ::.