Post by FarCry on Jan 30, 2019 16:24:02 GMT -5
Chapter 1:
Far From Home
Far From Home
I sit in the corner as he always makes me during these times. I am forced to watch as the 250 pound bearded man has his way with the blonde twink beneath him. He grabs him by the shoulders and thrusts himself deep into the tight nubile boy. I say boy, but this is a consenting adult choosing to let this be done to him.
Twink’s parents would kill him if they knew what he was doing. He came from a very conservative home and religious lifestyle, a point that he made several times before engaging in this hedonism. “I don’t normally do this…” he would say before saying,“You’re so fucking big!”as he pushes back as hard as he can.
Meanwhile a Latina woman with curly dark hair traipses over and begins to rub her naked breasts on the back of the large bearded man in charge. She rubs her hands down his naked chest and drops to her knees as she pulls the man’s member out of its orifice and puts it in her own.
“No fair!” Twink cries as he turns around and longingly looks at Latina have her way with the man.
“It’s my turn, Papi, you’ve had your fun.”
About an hour later the festivities were over, all three of them were left sweating and panting on the bed, the man in the middle with Twink and Latina surrounding him rubbing his sweat drenched body. Ecstasy filled the room as smiles from ear to ear filled the faces of Twink and Latina. But the man lay there downtrodden. Not sure what to think at this moment, seeming to be looking for a way out without saying so.
And as normally does on these nights a way out came.
“Oh shit, it’s 2 AM, I gotta go.” Twink said as he leapt out of bed and searched the floor for his tossed off clothing. Latina got up too, found her dress immediately and put the revealing outfit back on.
“Mind taking me back to my cousin’s place, it’s about 2 blocks away.” She said tossing Twink his leather shoe.
“I don’t know… I kinda…” Twink started but then he looked at the man who seemed to be staring so deeply into his soul that he thought better of it. “Yea, I got ya. Come one, I gotta go.”
“Call me, Papi.” She said to the man as she kissed him on the cheek.
“Come on!” Twink said and the two left the barren apartment leaving the man alone with his thoughts.
“That seemed fun.” I said to the man. “They both were super into it.”
“Yea,” His deep voice resonated through the hollow room.
“Did you feel it this time?” I asked.
“Yea.” He lied.
We call him Rayne. But the fact is we’re not totally sure what his name is. The first memory he has is from about 5 months ago which is around the same time that I was born. I was born out of a need for guidance, an outward cry for truth. I exist only in the eyes of Rayne and my only purpose is to watch and offer help to questions that he doesn’t know the answer to. You can call me Dom.
For a long time the man was looking for meaning. He is devastatingly handsome, and muscular. Men and women alike tossed themselves at him, these weren’t prostitutes that left the room, they were just regular people he met at the club across town.
Rayne went to clubs because the loud music and the alcohol helped him feel something other than the deafening silence inside of him. The sex helped him feel something other than loneliness. He felt a connection one time; he knew he had a meaning at one time and was longing for that same feeling again.
But the problem is that he doesn’t know anything about his past. He woke up 5 months ago in the rain. Someone asked him what his name was and he said “Rain” because that’s what was happening. That man helped him get to a shelter and out of the weather. He fed him, he bathed him, he nursed him back to health even though he was perfectly capable.
The streets of Pittsburgh were particularly friendly to a man like him. He looked as though he could snap the junkies in half with ease. Rayne was an intimidating man, and used it to his advantage, but he only sought to feel the fullness of tomorrow once more. He sought to remember, and that’s the main point of Rayne’s story, is remembering.
He put his clothes on and exited the room. It wasn’t his. He didn’t know who it belonged to. The way the room was scarcely decorated hinting that it belonged to another lonely soul. He half hoped that the person would walk in on them fucking in the bed. Maybe that would have brought some excitement to the already decadent display of affection. But alas it was not to be.
He got outside and took his first breath of fresh air. The steel mill was already starting and the black plumes of smoke rose overhead into the skies above. He walked east toward the shelter he usually called home, though he was far from home. Home, he thought, was a place not in this city. Home was somewhere else.
But Home was somewhere. Of this he was certain.
The library wasn’t set to open for another few hours. This is where he had decided to spend his day today. Sometimes he would gather carts at the local supermarket making minimum wage. On his off days he went to the library to continue his exhaustive search. He seemed able to read and understand quickly, he must have been educated so he limited his searches to white bred places, another long leap of faith, but he had to try and make do with the little information that he had.
He went from state to state; city to city; town to town at the library searching for any sign of a missing person that fit his description. The world was a big place, and the only thing he was sure of was that he was American because he spoke English with the classic American drawl. Even so, he couldn’t be sure that he even came from America, or when he went missing that he was in America when it happened, but it was a starting point… it was an outlandish one but a starting point nonetheless.
The internet is easy to navigate if you know what you’re doing, and even with limited knowledge of his past he still seemed to be a wiz with the software he was using to traverse the periodicals of small towns and larger cities.
***
One particular click caused a beam of electricity to follow through the wires, and across the open sky to the mother board of a computer system on a secluded island off the coast of Nevis where a scarred gentleman wearing glasses staring at a wall of monitors saw a red notification pop up on his right. He looked at the alert and jumped to his feet immediately. The four nearly identical looking men in the room hardly seemed to notice as he jumped up and ran past them and out of the room.
He ran towards a large mahogany door at the end of a hallway labeled with an artistic version of two identical faces staring off in opposite directions from each other. He knocked on the door 3 times, then paused, then knocked another 4, then paused, then dramatically pounded hard one more time.
“Enter.” Said the raspy voice from the other side. The scarred man entered the cavernous room where only an old cedar desk flanked by larger than life stone statues of beasts the eyes have never seen before sit with a calm looking well-kept man sitting behind it. “It begins.” The raspy voiced man said while the scarred gentleman simply nodded in approval. “Start Operation Nomenclature. Contact Gentry, he will lead you on the next part of your journey.”
“Yehhh.” Said the scarred man opening his mouth slightly and revealing a toothless and tongueless mouth underneath before exiting the room leaving the raspy voiced man alone with his statues. One of the statues moved its head down and stared at the man behind the desk.
“It’s time for the uprising to begin.” The statue said in a deep and demonic voice.
The man nodded approvingly.
***
Rayne continued to click for results in Portland, Oregon when he heard a commotion sounding like a small sonic boom resounding from behind him then complete silence. He turned around and saw the toothless man running towards him brandishing a knife. Rayne got to his feet and with an amazing sense of instinct he blocked all the punches, avoided all the thrusts of the blade and seized the man’s arm, bending it in a direction it was not meant to go before snapping the man’s forearm like a twig. The man opened his mouth to scream Rayne and felt a wave of disgust flow through his body as he looked inside the man’s mangled mouth. He punched the man hard in the temple knocking him out instantly and let him drop to the ground.
Disgust was the most emotion he had felt in some time. Now followed by confusion as a small slender man resembling Sméagol from the Lord of the Rings movies made his way out from where toothless came from clapping slightly.
“Lord Eric Gentry at your service, sir.” Sméagol said.
I sat back and watched as disgust turned to confusion turned then turned into action. Like a beast Rayne sped forward and grasped the Stoor by the throat. But amazingly no struggle was returned. His tiny hands wrapped around the large hand around his throat and peeled each finger away gently.
“You don’t want to hurt me; I have the answers you’ve been searching for.”
Rayne removed the last of his hand away from Gentry as he returned a stoic stare in his direction.
“But first,” Gentry said, “I need something from you.”
“Why should I trust you?” Rayne said, saying more words in this sentence than I have heard him say in months. I shook with excitement hoping that he would finally find some purpose in his meaningless life.
“I know who you are, and why you can’t remember your past. I have all of the questions you have been asking yourself because I too have all of the answers. I can sense in you an urge to hurt others. You’ve been trying to satiate this urge with sex but lust isn’t what you’re after, it’s wrath!”
“Sins. What is this all supposed to mean?”
“I speak in these terms so you can understand. If God or the devil existed then these would be the sins you are exhibiting. But you are exhibiting something much more powerful than religion could explain. I have those answers, but first" he repeated, "I need something from you.”
Rayne looked at his hand which was clutched in a fist. He felt at ease when knocking out the monster that attacked him before. His hand quivered at the thought of wrapping itself around the throat of the slender man once again. Gentry was right, and Rayne knew it but never wanted to admit it. He had been doing drugs in excess and having meaningless sex in an effort to fill a hole in his life that could only be filled with violence.
“What do you need?” Rayne asked and I nearly leapt out of my proverbial. He was asking because he wanted to know. He was inquisitive, which was more than I could say about him for some time.
“This week I have set up a bit of a competition for you. I have set up an opportunity for you to fill those urges and bring me back something very powerful. But the only way to get that item back to me is to earn it in battle. Are you ready to battle?”
“Who?” Rayne asked.
“Fear is a powerful tool. Fear is what drives men to do things that they would otherwise be incapable of. Fear is what drives man to reach back and find something within themselves that they never had before. You will be facing a man shrouded in fear. The man you will be facing used to hide behind a mask and behind clever remarks. The man now hides behind crimson glasses and crude jokes.
This man has exceeded expectations and lives off the fact that people underestimate him. He values his small stature and uses it to his advantage. This man uses the sun to gain strength and finds even more strength in darkness. He is powerful, but he can be defeated. He has been defeated and will be defeated again. His name is Teo Blaze.”
A small sign of realization rang in Rayne’s mind.
“Wrestling?” He said. “You expect me to step into a ring with trained fighters and come out in one piece?”
“No,” Gentry started, “I expect you to bring me the Television Championship!”
“So you’re telling me that even though I have no experience in a wrestling ring that I have somehow gotten a shot at a championship in a world renowned wrestling company? I’m finding this harder and harder to believe.”
“Rayne, you are speaking with earnest determination. You have a chance!” I said, interjecting and trying to push him in the right direction as I was one to do.
“A chance to what?” He inquired.
“Who are you talking to?” Gentry asked but was ignored.
“You have a chance to find out who you really are. I know I was that voice that told you to stay away from the violence, but I see now that I was wrong. Head towards the violence. Head towards the pain. The way that you know you’re going the right direction is when you start to see more enemies in your path. Follow that path of most resistance and win that match this week. Earn your shot and earn your story.”
Rayne smiled at me but to Gentry Rayne was simply smiling maniacally at the corner of an empty library room.
“Count me in.” Rayne said and Gentry clapped his hands.
“Limo is outside.” Gentry said. “They’ll take care of everything from there. Good luck… Champion.”
And as quickly and mysteriously as Gentry appeared he vanished dragging the lifeless body of the monster behind. A small boom echoed through the halls of the library and the hustle and bustle began again. He looked outside and saw a man wearing a tuxedo and sunglasses standing in front of a limousine holding a sign that read “FarCry.”
He knew that was him.
He knew what he must do.
He knew he must win.
