OOC: Thanks to Matt Knox for collaborating on this piece.
IV
“So why me?”
Adrienne paused, introductions over, now it was time for business. She put the TracFone on speaker and set it down on the coffee table, next to a red RC car. The toy and slightly cracked iPad had been returned to her by some sly fox. Reclining back on the couch, she considered her words carefully as she fiddled with the wrapper of a watermelon Jolly Rancher. As promised, the tarot card reader delivered. Those two small moments that night, removed from cameras, helped her not to think about what eventually did happen. But honestly, she didn’t get the same personable feelings from Matt Knox. He seemed ornery and sometimes rude. It perplexed her that he spoke out like he did.
“You could have had your pick of anyone. Silvio. Willis. Anyone else.”
“I need a reason now? Because you’ll hurt them as bad as I will, kid. Sure he probably annoyed those two, but he flat out insulted you.”
“I’m used to it.”
She appreciated his vote of confidence but her anger towards Lab Rat King amounted to little. She had ran at him with all of these thoughts of taking him down a peg or two and well, the boot shaped bruise on her neck told a different story. So here’s this Alex Winter being as deplorable as possible and she’s going to hurt him? Like injure his pride even? What a pipe dream.
“It’s a nice thought. I’ll do my best, Matt. But you were right, it’s like he knew. Like he knew what buttons to press...”
Trailing off, she changed the subject quickly.
“In a general sense, you know.”
“Yeah. General.”
A pause, Knox exhaled on his end.
“Fuck him in the neck. He shot off at the mouth, and kept shooting off. His own partner is irritated with him. We play this right, this is fish in a barrel. And we both get what we want."
This man’s swagger was something Adrienne could definitely use more of. She could do without the swearing but that was just her. But yeah, the attitude, there was a difference. Like watching him get back into the ring, it seemed like he never left. Admitted ring rust or not, he was quite formidable. He hit hard and he spoke bluntly. Despite the glum start to her career, it seemed like people were taking notice. She had made some assumptions about that attention. Including Matt Knox. Something prodded her to stop internalizing this. Take a risk. Take a leap, so to speak.
“So this is my first tag match. I know the rules well enough. And right now, I think we have an advantage. I don’t see Alex and Steve remaining cohesive as a unit. However, I’d be remiss if I didn’t just say this.”
Take a big leap, Adrienne.
“So I know you’ve got daughters in the sport. I’m not one of them. And I’m not a kid. Technically, I am a rookie. And maybe this sounds like a broken record but I’ve been in the business since I was nineteen years old. So I’m your peer. Your tag partner, Matt.”
”Of course you are, Mrs. Levi. But you also have only gotten active in the ring… what, a week before I returned? The week of? There is a chasm between us as far as experience. Far greater than the chasm of talent, and the one of grit. I wouldn’t have asked for this match if I thought I’d need to carry you through it.”
And well, there it was. Matt had a point. She’d been pretty relieved. Years of offering her opinion and rarely receiving a sensible reply had left her gunshy.
“Alright. Cool.”
So then there’s the matter of capitalism being rather cruel sometimes. New month and her wallet was already coughing mothballs.
“I’ll be honest. I don’t have the resources some of you have. I’ve seen personal rings set up. I’ve seen where some of you have the means to just up and move-”
She stopped, sensing an interruption.
“Listen, if you can get back to Baltimore, go to the Marriott by the Harbor. Rooms 201 and 204, check both, ask for Bert. Tell him I said rent you a room through the next Chaos. It isn’t charity, but we can NOT go into this without at least kind of training as a unit.”
Adrienne didn’t expect anything to be handed her but her brain swarmed with what was to her an astronomical cost.
“Now, I gotta go break up a child fighting ring in the desert at a wrestling festival. I’ll see you soon.”
“What?”
He had already hung up. If you can get back to Baltimore. He made that sound easy. Done fiddling with the wrapper, Adrienne popped the Jolly Rancher into her mouth. Her mother was out of the question. She had left nearly a dozen text messages. Despite not being a fan, Angie had watched. And she was beyond angry about what transpired. Her texts were delivered in all caps. All of them accusational in nature. Or absolute frightened concern. But the last one was curiously subdued. Time stamped moments after Adrienne set down the microphone and limped away.
wow love u, ade
Love you too mom
Convincing her mother to lend a few hundred bucks to get to Baltimore to meet a man-- well, Adrienne would never finish the request. In the small hallway before the front door, her white Fuji Absolute leaned against the wall. Her only mode of transportation. In something that only evoked embarrassment, she had never learned how to drive. Danny was cool with that, of course. Katy from work, former work, had always offered to buy it. After the miscarriage, Adrienne didn’t feel like correcting her Mother at that time, Katy got real interested in fitness. She always said the bike was being wasted in A to B use.
Probably. It was another present from Danny.
“Time to walk more, I guess.”
She retrieved her personal phone.
U still want the bike?
Just moments passed.
Yeah.
250
200.
Meet in middle? 225
Sure. Drop it by Kaplan?
Meet u in lot
Just days after returning, she swung back around to Baltimore. As promised, there was a room in her name at the Marriott at Camden Yards. A note from Bert told her to take an Uber to a warehouse nearby. She entered from one of the side doors. The shelves were stacked high with canned goods but there was also a huge clearing as she stepped forward. Smack dab in the middle, there was a full blown wrestling ring set up. Some guy in a light jacket and a beanie was tightening the turnbuckles with a wrench. He looked up as Levi’s sneakers squeaked on the concrete. He had light blue eyes, kind looking despite a gruff exterior.
“Bert?”
With an exerted effort, he gave the wrench one more twist. Shaking the top rope, he was satisfied. Adrienne kept her distance as he finally acknowledged her presence.
“Yeah, you Mrs. L?”
“Adrienne.”
Bert rolled out of the ring.
“Come closer, echo’s a bitch in here.”
Stepping just a few feet closer, she clutched the strap of her gym bag.
“Knox’ll join us later.”
“You’re his trainer?”
“No, I mean, yeah. Long story. So where you learn at?”
He seemed to start denying that but he got this smile on his face, like he was saying something facetious in nature. Adrienne hadn’t heard of a trainer who was possibly younger than the trainee but maybe Bert was a prodigy.
“Down where I live. Redd Thunder.”
She shook her head, that was his ring name. He’d been a decade removed from active competition. That friend of Danny’s who she drained her savings for.
“Greg Berkowitz.”
“Who?” Bert chuckled, “Sorry, so you want the truth, Adrienne?”
Adrienne nodded slowly, she knew what was coming.
“Imagine you paid a pretty penny and it's sad ‘cause you can’t even run the ropes right. Knox saw it right as rain when he watched your tapes. That’s all taught though. Everything else you’re doing? It’s like some raw instinct shit. That big ass jump to the outside? Took some huge balls.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Matt and uh, I have less than two weeks to retrain you on the basics. Otherwise, the two dipshits are going to eat you alive. That means less money. For all of us. That love of the sport gibberish doesn’t mean anything if you can’t eat.”
That resonated with her. A month more of this and she’d have no choice but to crawl back to Kaplan. If they would even have her.
“So what do I do?”
“Bathroom’s in the back. Go get changed.”
Bert gestured wildly behind him to a singular restroom at then end of a short hallway.
“We’re going to start over. Later we’ll get you in front of a real rig. Have you give them a piece of your mind.”
This was a stark contrast. The last three times viewers had seen Adrienne Levi, it’d been her filming herself. That term was to be used loosely. First, audiences were treated to the grainy camera of the iPhone 5 - or was it 6? She couldn’t remember. It had been another one of his gifts. Second, the videos were vertically shot. Third, if one liked the shaky camera movement of the Blair Witch Project, Adrienne was their girl.
Instead, here she was, in full view. Dressed in a sleeveless black shirt that in bold red font proclaimed her the Queen of the Simps, black nondescript tights, and her beat up used pair of black wrestling boots. Adrienne was in front of a black backdrop splashed with the logo of her employer.
“This one?”
She pointed, just to the side of her. Someone off camera directed her attention to the camera that was actually on.
“Oh, you. Sorry, I’ve never seen so much equipment set up before. Just for me to chat with you all.”
Adrienne smiled quaintly. For the moment, she just stood there, shuffling her feet. She eyed something to her right.
“May I? Been on my feet this whole day. I mean, this isn’t formal, right?”
Walking off screen, she returned with a steel folding chair. Snapping it open, she placed it backwards and sat. Straddling the frame, she rested her elbows on the back of the chair. Mat burn was prevalent.
“That’s better.”
Now what was she going to say? Her mind has been swarming with all of the events of the last week. The obvious was her encounter with the Lab Rat King. His vicious ways had filled her nightmares that last few nights but truthfully, she preferred that monster over others that would traipse about in her subconscious. This sudden partnership with Matt Knox perhaps.Things had been more clear after their first real conversation. And finally, there was Steve Matthews and Alex Winter - two diametrically opposed newcomers who would serve as her opposition.
“So forgive me, I got a little emotional on Monday night.”
The boot shaped bruise on her neck was a startling reminder of why she may have been.
“There are a lot of adages I’ve heard lately about my less than stellar start here at Carnage Wrestling. Not going to bother with them. You get the gist. I’ve just gotta keep trying, right?”
She tapped fingers on the chair, pausing to allow that question to be affirmed.
“I’ll say this, I was really wrong about some folks here. You’ve gotta understand something. Any competitor worth their salt doesn’t want to hear that their failure was like … a good try. That’s where I decided to put this into perspective. Other than losing to someone in my debut that lacked any conviction to back up her powerful proclamations, I’ve squared off with world class athletes…”
She frowned.
“... and a seemingly invincible foe. But here I am. Ready for more.”
And then returned to a more neutral calculating expression.
“I appreciate the compliments. I want to pay it forward.”
Adrienne held one finger up.
“Matt Knox. I think I would have like a little notice before you issued this challenge. But I get it. You and I have something in common and it’s not a good thing. Zero wins between us. Here’s the thing. You’re smart. You know what it takes to win. And having lost it all, you know how just bad it can get. Fighting with you prior, I trust you as my partner.”
A second finger.
“Steve Matthews. You’re Carnage’s Ace, despite never appearing prior. And you’re The Technical Master. A cursory look tells me you’ve accomplished a whole lot in your storied career. You’re as advertised in the ring. But with accolades like yours, it makes me wonder why you’re not just facing Amber Ryan in your debut, championship on the line and everything. Instead, you desperately accept an open challenge to cozy up with an individual who you can’t even stand.”
She smiled, maybe relaying just a spark of sarcasm.
“You’re pretty confident in your abilities but one thing I know about the art of tag team wrestling is that you’re only as good as your partner. Judging by your interactions with Alex, you think this is all about you. And I’m not reaching when I say that Alex Winter doesn’t believe much in this fragile alliance.”
Adrienne held those two fingers there in an inadvertent peace sign. She shook her head, looking maybe a little disappointed.
“Gosh, I apologize, Steve. I’m supposed to be complimentary towards you and well, I guess I’m not. You speak emphatically about how serious you take this business and that’s kind of cool. But other than that?”
She shrugged her shoulders, then resting her chin on her forearms.
“I don’t know. For all of that blustering about how you don’t advocate for your partner’s actions, you sure are complicit. It speaks negatively to your character. Like you’re unable to decide if being a good human is okay. Your companion doesn’t believe that so while you’re threatening to betray him, you’re still not explicitly condemning him. It makes you kind of … and I’m sorry, weak.”
Sitting up, Adrienne raised a third finger.
“Alex Winter. You paid me a compliment.”
She’d been thinking about Alex Winter a lot lately. Through mere Twitter exchanges and one brief video, he had sure made an impact. Adrienne was sure he would consider that he was living rent free in her mind. That wasn’t the case. Rent was due and the price was something this party animal could never comprehend.
“And so maybe I should have just smiled and batted my eyes.”
And she did, displaying a strange flash of attitude as her expression then steeled.
“I promised this to even you. Like your partner, you’re pretty impressive in the ring. And so perhaps when you throw out cliches that you can walk the walk - maybe you can.”
Alex Winter had spent a lot of his career overseas in Japan. And now he was here to test his mettle in the states with over a decade of experience. Maybe Danny and him partied together. Probably not. Danny Levi was …. was not like Alex Winter.
“But back to your compliment. I didn’t take it as one based on your reputation, more on that in a moment. Your response was to get pretty defensive. And so it makes a girl like me wonder, did you really mean to make me feel good? Because instead you just made some assessment of my attractiveness. Instead of seeing Adrienne Levi the person, you just saw my face, my body, my whatever. Imagine if you had said: Hey, you had a great match! After all, we share the same profession.”
Awkwardly, she stood up. In fact, she nearly fell backwards in the chair. Would have made for a good visual as she is trying to address someone looking for any weakness in her.
“You got real defensive because this sort of thing affects your reputation. You ever wonder why I chose to not view what you said favorably? You registered on Twitter very late into June. It took you just one day to solicit a woman to show you her … can I curse on here?”
She looked around.
“I’d rather not but look, in relation to a woman asking people to wear masks for what is obviously going on in the world, you turned the subject sexual in nature. On the same day, you responded to another woman’s picture.”
Adrienne considered the content, tapping her chin.
“Now when you made your advance, she said no, you persisted with some video of you pantomiming a sexual act. I don’t know how to tell you this, Alex, but if that is your technique - there is no wonder why you’ve been rebuked so many times lately.”
She twisted the chair around, now sitting it in as nature intended.
“And then it all kind of devolved. Slander, you claim. The problem is that it isn’t really that far-fetched to believe these sorts of things about you. It’s an easy correlation to assume that when someone says effectively they don’t respect women, that they’re a misogynist? It’s totally feasible that a misogynist also thinks less about minority populations because sometimes their struggles intersect. Now, you’re right. Just because you’re a misogynist who sexually harrasses women on the internet doesn’t mean you’re guilty of being a rapist. It does however make you very guilty of contributing to rape culture.”
Pausing for effect, she crossed one leg over the other.
“I don’t know a lot but Alex, it’s been an eye opening year for me and I’ve learned alot about myself as a person and that I could have fought instead of hiding ...but I’m not ...I’m not going to hide from people like you anymore.”
Sighing, Adrienne looked upwards before returning her gaze towards the camera.
“This is more than I wanted to talk and you know what stinks? This match could have had a different narrative. Matt Knox, my partner, he’s a former world champion but do you know what’s cooler than that? He’s overcoming some very public issues to return to the sport he loves. And you two? You guys are excellent professional wrestlers. Instead it’s about Alex Winter backpedaling after his atrocious suggestion that I should be leashed, muzzled, and doped up because I dared to call him out for his unwanted compliment. It’s about Steve Matthews being spineless. It’s about whether those two can even get along. Well, you know, I’d like to think there will be a better ending to a story that is told all too often.”
Standing up, she felt something unfamiliar. Danny called it his machismo. But it felt like swelling in her heart. Her voice raised above the little chirp she was known for.
“What is it about you two? Steve, those that standby and watch the injustices get no reprieve. And Alex, you’re a relic of the bygone past. And you don’t seem to be paying attention to what’s happening around here. Just last month, I watched Kyra Johnson prove she is Ultraviolence. And Amber Ryan is the Ironwoman. Then there’s Catalina Cortes, she’s a champion too. And Poppy. And Jenova! I’m sure I’m missing a few and I’m super sorry about that because you’re all amazing. They’re also all counterpoints to your ignorance.And then there’s me. I’m nobody special. But with Matt Knox, we’re going to end you before you even begin.”
The camera lingered even though she had finished her piece.
“That’s all. Nothing much else to say. You can turn--”
The feed cut.
Last Edit: Jul 8, 2020 20:59:26 GMT -5 by Deleted: coding error
Post by Matt Knox "The Raven" on Jul 9, 2020 6:07:03 GMT -5
The line went dead. He saved the number as “A. Levi” and slid the phone into his jeans pocket before lifting his eyes to the vast desert before him. Beside him, the rental car sat parked. Far over it’s allotted miles. He took a long drag off his last cigarette as a warm wind blew his jet black hair asunder. Thin fingers deftly flicking the butt away as the toxic plume blew forth from his nose to meet the invasive wind.
“I’m a fucking idiot”He confided to that very wind. Truest thing he’d said in months. What the hell was he doing?
Well...it all started with a hot tub..
Chaos 94
Carnage Training Room
10:35 PM
He sat submerged in one of the whirlpool tubs, eyes closed and head leaned back against a rolled up towel. Another identical white cloth draped over his face. Silvio had proved to be everything he expected. Fast, determined, and a goof. But if he were honest, he had looked past this inconsequential match before the bell had rung. It was a glamour booking. War horse verse The flashy flippy new blood.
And he paid for it. Another loss. Between next week, and seeing Hope backstage along with Ivy and Astryd, his head was everywhere but in the game. No discredit to Silvio. The kid had it. The mythical, belt winning it. And Knox himself had rust. The aches from Underground were still present with the new ones he earned tonight, He couldn’t move as quickly as he usually would, had to change his whole game up.
And it almost worked. If the slippery little psychic wasn’t so aware, and his mind so distracted to not notice the referee’s count...he could feel Silvio slipping away in the cobra clutch
Well, they had given upper management what they wanted at least. Five stars and back pats all around. But, now here in the silence broken only by the jets he sat reflecting upon the whole situation, sitting somewhere between bitter and indifferent. All he could do was move on to the next one.
And then, as he was trying to wind down and get ready for the luxury he currently enjoyed, the monitor caught his attention. That new stable he expressed concern over on twitter was putting the boots to Insidious.. Any other night, he would have sat back and enjoyed the show. Especially at the prospect of the big one having a go at Thor
But there were people here tonight who he cared about. Who through indoctrination or genuine feeling, cared deeply for the old sack of crap. And so, driven by the logic defying fatherly love he got involved and saved Thor, and probably Insidious in its entirety. Of course, he gave a different, albeit equally true explanation for his actions directly to Thor in the ring. But truly, he wasn’t going to let his daughters watch their grandfather get hurt by that giant, mindless fuck.
Nothing could ever be simple, could it? It was his own damn fault, most all of it. Hell he didn’t have to wait for the next card. He already knew the fight he picked. Alex Winter, Steve Matthews. A team of men who don’t seem to like or respect each other. All stemming from the former being a tool on social media.
And the partner he had hand picked for this endeavor? Adrienne Levi. If she’d even be able to go, after what the Rat King had done to her tonight. He thought briefly of running out there to make the save. However, in the end he concluded that she would perceive it as an insult. As him doubting her. And the way that woman moved, the way she stared at the world around her. Was like a dog that had been beaten its whole life. He’d be damned if he were ever going to contribute to that.
Most would have left that define them. That harm. But this woman showed such courage, grit, determination. Determination to prove the world wrong. Herself too, he’d guess. But hey, best leave the Omniscient shit to Silvio. All he was sure of, there was something intriguing about her. Not romantically, of course. But it almost felt like...his duty? To help bring the diamond from the coal.
His peaceful musings were interrupted by the approach of footsteps. He removed the towel, squinting against the horrid, invasive light for a moment before his eyes focused on the approaching form of one of the trainers. Shaking his head he stood as the man passed, and stepped over the side of the whirlpool tub. He wrapped the towel previously keeping the fluorescent nuisance at bay around his waist, and walked with a noticeable limp out of the training area and back toward the dressing room.
After entering, and ensuring his privacy Matthew dropped the towel around his waist to the ground. The coolness of the room upon his dampened skin sent a wave of goosebumps over his form. He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes once more. He reached up, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t shake that sick feeling. The same he got any time he spoke to or saw Astryd. The undeniable, inescapable feeling of guilt. And then, he finds out that both their daughters. Rather, His daughter and THEIR daughter were both entered in some vanity youth project?
A vanity project put together by none other than the man he spared on their behalf earlier that night. His face contorts for a moment in anger, before he pushes out another exhale. Gingerly, he lowers himself onto the wooden bench. His body cries out all over from wounds old and new that racked his frame. Once seated he reaches into his gym bag to dig out his street clothes A Metallica t-shirt and old, worn out levis.He enveloped himself in the cotton and denim cocoon, silently attempting to rationalize the situation with Imperial Youth Wrestling and his children.
Hope, and Ivy. 17 and 12. In a ring for the entertainment of a bunch of asshats at some giant convention that their dear old grandfather was participating in. The vanity, the selfishness. Putting those girls into this fresh and unending hell. Sure, he had told Hope he’d come and watch her match. And he would go, and he might even see part of it. But he wasn’t going to let it stand. He may not have been there for her like he should have but about this? He knew better.
He did.
He loved the business, but it was a vortex nonetheless..And he’d be damned if he was going to let them get sucked into it the same as him, same as the rest of them. She was too deep in their fold to see the world as clearly as he did.
And so, he zipped the gym bag closed, and lifted it to be slung over his tight, sore, and tired shoulder. He headed out to the hallway and headed for the exit. Deftly, he pulled his phone out and sent Bert a friendly text
Going to the desert to try to stop the kids I abandoned from ending up miserable, broken shits like me. See you by next show.
He came to the 2020 Altima, and opened the driver’s door, slinging the gym bag roughly to the plain grey upholstery on the passenger’s side of the vehicle. He dropped in behind the wheel and fired the awe inspiring 4 cylinder motor up, before pulling out of the arena’s parking lot in a huff. Bound, set, and determined to do some sort of right.
N o w
The setting sun set the sky ablaze in an otherworldly mix of purples, yellows, blues and reds. The endless desert far as the eye could hope to see broken up by Yucca brevifolia and rock formations that had witnessed a time prior to man’s first breath. The only evidence of man’s very existence out here, the long and seemingly unending highway where Matt Knox currently had the rental car wound up to an even ninety miles per hour.
His dark gray eyes locked into a staring contest with the seemingly endless horizon. Idly, he flipped the headlights on as night time approached. The cabin of the car filled with silence to anyone who may have ridden with him, but his own mind alive with an uproarious internal monologue.
He was defeated. This time, there were no outside factors and yet. Somehow, it felt inconsequential. And not just due to the obvious lack of stipulations, but he had no ill will. No anger, or reason to push himself against Silvio. That, of course was not the case for the next Chaos, nor was it the case for Wrestlestock, and the mission he found himself on.
A mission of mercy, he was sure. Or, at least he was partially. A quiet, doubting voice;. The one that sprung eternal, reprimanded his actions as harshly as it did the intentions. If he cared so much, why now? Why this? Why didn’t he care enough to make this journey to just be with them? As a father for little things? Like birthdays, school events, or even just to be there?
With a grimace he pushed a plug into that spring, and exhaled shakily. A glance at his phone showed the same blue line of the last three hundred miles, with a reading of two hundred more until he reached his destination. He felt exhausted, unsure of when his last meal was. And in his hurry he had left himself painfully sober and unmedicated. Not a pill, pipe, or drink to his name.
Of course, that was not necessarily a bad thing. I mean, he did still have the end goal of total sobriety. Or so he kept claiming. He had slowed down, at the very least. Of course the drug intake of your average southern california frat house would have been a step back from his appetite for vice.
As if on cue, his stomach let him know that other appetites were still prevalent and in need of attention. A sign on the side of the highway informed him of the existence of “Ray’s Diner” ten miles ahead. Apparently, they also had gas for sale. He let his eyes drift to the fuel gauge, and he made a face of amusement“Well. Thanks for lookin out, lord”He said to the silence around him.
Within no time, the diner came into sight. The gaudy neon sign cutting through the fresh desert night. As he pulled into the parking lot, near empty except for the vehicles of employees and two or three commercial trucks. He killed the engine, and sat in silence a moment. With a long exhale he opened his door and stepped out, propping a hand against the door he pushed himself vertical. Every joint and muscle screamed in a united agony as he did so, he winced and his teeth grit in response.
He closed the door behind him and took a moment to stretch his muscles and pop his shoulders. Jesus, he really was getting old. Stiffly he began the arduous journey into the eatery. It’s exterior a throwback to the nineteen fifties. Chrome, fire engine red and polar white. Like a coke bottle shaped into a triple wide trailer. Charming as it was tacky.
The interior was just as expected. Neon and chrome. He smiled, suddenly reminded of his step father, and the coca cola memorabilia collection he had amassed.
The happy thoughts were broken as instantly as they came to him, derailed by a friendly if not exhausted voice belonging to the small, older woman named “Estelle” if the nametag was to be believed
“Just you, tall, dark and handsome?”
“Just me, young lady”
A smile earned. Classic wordplay, however insincere it all truly was it was more refreshing than his usual social interactions. The ones where he was trying to physically maim another human being. “This way, smooth talker” she chimed, nabbing a laminated menu from a pile of identical ones and leading him to a corner booth.
Matthew drew the eyes of the sparsely populated diner as he usually did. Be it from recognition, or from being a giant, pale bean pole the attention was not uncommon. He slid into the booth, the red and white vinyl was cool from the A/C. A stark contrast to the dry mojave outside the confines of the antiquated eatery“Get you a drink hon?”
“Tea, please. Lemon if you got it”
“We got it. I’ll be right back with it”
He glanced at the menu, finding the usual spread for a hole in the wall. He settled rather quickly on a T bone and all the fixings. Having not eaten since the morning prior he felt he deserved to dump a slab of cow into his intestines. He eyed the fruit salad as an appetizer, but decided against it. The mangoes were likely sub par in this region.
Eventually Estelle returned and took the order. The exchange moved within that ever present fog, lost to his own ether. His mind had rolled away from the pleasantries, and back to the task or rather tasks at hand. Removing his phone from his pocket he decided that now was as good a time as ever to address his next opponents.
Besides, they weren’t worth the effort of good scenery. Not like Silvio was.
He propped the phone against the silver aluminum napkin dispenser, staring at himself a moment and paying himself a sneer before tapping a long, pale finger on the red record button. The shot came to life, with Knox staring straight ahead. He looked tired, haggard and like he had driven across the country in a rental car in the dead of summer.
“So, Oh and Two. Fucking auspicious start isn’t it? And both times, I managed to successfully snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. Best not to dwell on it, I suppose. Silvio Leon, you have my compliments and my praise. I don’t doubt we will meet again. And when we do, I promise you a better showing from myself.”He pays the camera a nod, before picking up the red tinted glass filled with iced tea and taking a long drink. He exhales, twitching his brows“Excuse me. Been in the desert all day. Tends to drive one’s thirst up. Speaking of thirst, let's get down to what i’m here to talk about. Chaos Ninety-Five. Me, and Adrienne Levi versus Alex Winter and Steve Matthews. The first fight I picked since getting here where the person I challenged had the stones to accept” A satisfied smirk. The person he referenced would know they were referenced..
“If only the people who took the challenge were as impressive as the act of accepting it..”A nod, his eyes moving to the window and out to the barren expanse “Alex Winter, I have to be honest. I haven’t done much of a deep dive on you. Not because I don’t do my homework, but because you’re easy to figure out.”He thinks briefly of all the Alex Winters he had met. There were plenty, none stood out. None of them ever did. “You’re just another punk who was gifted enough to dominate some old has-beens and indie slobs. Got an ego off of it, got a twitter handle and suddenly you’re king tough shit”
He chuckles before turning his gaze back into the camera “Alex you’re nothing special. Nothing worth worrying over. You’re just some punk who slobbers over women on social media when you aren’t insulting them. And your partner, Matthews is it? The Ace in Carnage? Listen, Lord knows I understand leaning on old glories to establish yourself. But taking up with some useless fool just to get on a card? Shows me that your old glories...they’re long faded, friend. If they were ever that glorious to begin with.”
He brings his hands together, and over his mouth and nose as if praying. His eyes and expression take on a contemplative air, he nods,agreeing with some unspoken statement“Yeah. that about sums it up. A run of the mill asshole with no redeeming or unique qualities teaming up with a has-been-never-was to fight a guy who made fun of them on Social Media and a girl one of them made inappropriate remarks too.”He smiles, closing his eyes and paying the statement an undeserved chuckle
“I need a win. Can’t be oh and three and expect to still be taken seriously. And I have been close, boys. So. Close. But neither one of you possess even a modicum of the talent or grit of the people who’ve bested me so far. You’re unspectacular men, relics of an age that never was. And at Chaos I, along with Adrienne Levi will put you out of your misery” A brief, contemplative pause“If you don’t implode and do the job for us”
He leaned all the way in then, filling the shot with his gaze and smiling face “Come Chaos ninety-five I will bring you the Mercy, The Murder Bring your best, because JC and Money Bags are going to have to look real hard for reasons to keep you around after we’re done, boys. I’ll see you then”
He shut the camera off then, and uploaded the video to Carnage’s web site as per usual. He exhaled, watching as Estelle approached with his order. One less thing on his plate. He was confident, as always. But it was different now. He was at peace with the two losses, and more importantly. He was at peace with what next Chaos would bring.
They wouldn’t be
He pulled into the parking lot around Four PM. He had awoken at two, in the parking lot of the diner. Thankfully he had not died of heat stroke, as the unforgiving desert sun beat down upon the black Nissan. He sat in silence then, killing the motor but keeping a grip on the steering wheel. His eyes bore into the sign “Imperial Youth Wrestling” and the directional arrow beneath.
The entire place was abuzz with life. He had never heard of this festival, but it seemed interesting. He might participate in it next year. But now? Now he had a mission. He had to stop this, and do right by the girls. For once in his miserable life he had to do right by Hope and Ivy.
Reaching deep for all his resolve, he opened the car door and stepped out into the waiting desert sun. His legs felt detached, his heart rate felt elevated as he moved. The world around him blurred, and he focused in on the sign and the directions. He followed them, moving through the crowd briskly.
With each step, his stomach twisted more and more in on itself. His resolve only doubled though, roaring against the fear and anxiety. The demons that had driven him away from them, and everything else he loved. Eventually his legs carried him to a gathered crowd, and at the edge of that crowd he saw the most familiar of sights
A ring.
He pushed through the crowd to the front, and watched. His breath hitched as realization and recognition. The blonde, slender figure in the ring currently flying around like a pro was none other than Hope. He watched silently, as she worked. She nailed a picture perfect Hurricanrana. He watched her get to her feet quickly, and run to the ropes. She propelled off them like she had been doing it her whole life..
He smiled despite himself, pride betraying the righteous indignation of his original intent. The crowd around him cheered approvingly as she nailed the other teen with a shining wizard. Once again on her feet, she went to the ropes and climbed to the top
“No, come on kid. You’re just wasting energy here..” He mumbled“That was three”
Slowly, the other child got to her feet only to be leapt upon by Hope who executed a picture perfect tornado DDT. Now, she went for the pin.“Hook the leg”he whispered as she did so.
He tapped on his hip along with the referee
One..
Two..
Three!!
Everyone around him clapped and cheered raucously in support for the young woman. God, that’s what she was. A young woman..not his baby girl anymore. Not the little orphan he moved heaven and earth to save from that life. He went to move further to the front but froze, his whole body going cold
Astryd, Sujir and Ivy all appeared as if out of nowhere to celebrate with Hope. The smile on her face was so radiant, it made the sun bearing down upon them seem as dim as a lunar eclipse. The family embraced. Sujir and Astryd praised the young woman as they exited the ring together.
As they made their way to the dressing area Hope froze, feeling a presence she looked over her shoulder and scanned the crowd desperately as she had when the first bell rang. Her heart sank in disappointment, finding no sign of Matthew. She kept her smile though and moved along with her Mom and Uncle as they ushered her and Ivy along
Unbeknownst to her, Matthew had moved back out through the crowd. His breaths came slowly, and shakily. Once away from the masses, he leaned against the wall of one of the many nondescript buildings on the event grounds. His hands trembled as he lifted them to bury his face within
She looked so happy. So radiant. And he had driven all this way with the intent of taking that from her, and Ivy. “Christ”He uttered, voice cracking. He removed his hands from his face, and began walking back toward the parking area. Even with the thousands in attendance, he felt isolated in this moment. Isolated, and small.
As he reached the Nissan he leaned into it as he did the wall, trembling. The hot, stinging dampness of his eyes threatened to overtake his entire form as he opened the door and fell into the waiting seat therein.
All at once, as he closed the door and closed the outside world off it washed over him. The rage and the grief. Regret. The tears flowed freely and heavily. He was a monster. A pathetic, angry man who had driven damn near the entire continental United States to stop a daughter he abandoned from doing something she loved because suddenly he knew better.
The smile on her face, the embrace she shared with them. Indoctrination or no, she was sincerely elated and happy. And selfishly, he had planned to crush that. All because he was mad at a man who was not even present.
He choked back a sob, and wiped at his eyes with his forearms. Suddenly, he was the lanky tall orphan getting beaten up all over again. He hadn’t felt so small and so pathetic in a long, long time. And he never wanted to feel this way again. He couldn’t. Not now that he was relied upon, even if it was just to be a tag team partner.
“I’ll do better, Girls..”He whispered to the universe
“I’ll do better, Bert”
“I’ll do better, Adrienne”
He opened his eyes, and exhaled a long, slow breath. He turned the car on and pulled back onto that endless, straight highway. Back to Baltimore, back into the Chaos and toward the next challenge. The rage remained, comfortably with the demons.
Soon though, they would be exercised. And the party would be over for Winter, just about the time Matthews ran out of aces.
Post by Steve Matthews on Jul 11, 2020 2:25:24 GMT -5
========================
Morality Voids In The River Of Dreams
========================
“Unless you learn to face your own shadows, you will continue to see them in others, because the world outside you is only a reflection of the world inside you.” = Carl Jung
***
'Life is pain and misery and emptiness. It is the fucked up people that realize that and the even-more-fucked-up people that plaster a smile on their faces and repeat to themselves “everything is going to be okay. Say your prayers, eat your vegetables. Everything is going to be okay.” These are the people that say things like “you may not be able to control what happens in your life, but you can control how you react to it.” Is that really control? If I can change the temperature of the air conditioner as my car is careening off a cliff, is that really control?
No. It is an illusion. It is just an illusion; a mirage; a happy little trick of the mind that keeps the lemmings marching. Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. Wake up. Hit the alarm. Brush your teeth. Piss. Or piss and then brush your teeth; that's called 'control'. Shower. Shave, if there's time. Dress yourself: the button-down Oxford homogeneity. Monkey suit, monkey shoes, monkey tie. Today's Friday, wear the red one with the blue stripes. If you want 'control,' go wild and wear the blue one with the red stripes. That'll show them! That'll show them all who the master of his destiny is.' Eat breakfast. Drink coffee. Kiss the wife and kids. Get in the car and adjust the seats, the mirrors. Adjust the air conditioner as you careen off the cliff.
Wake up. This is your life, and you're dying one second at a time.'
***
Fred's Diner is a small mom-and-pop coffee and breakfast hole-in-the-wall across the street from Rodgers Theatre in the so-called “downtown” of Poplar Bluff. I've had bowel movements bigger than this city. But the coffee's not bad. At least I got that going for me. My finger picks at the rip in the tacky leather cushions of the two-person booth. The yellowish cushioning is poking up through the split in the seat. It's taunting me. “Pick me.” It's like a scab. Picking it will make it worse, but honestly, have you ever had a scab you didn't pick at?
Me either. And as I'm running the little wooden stirring stick around the edge of the coffee mug on its six-hundred-sixty-sixth lap and stare out the window at lemmings marching to walk; staring at watches, shuffling briefcases, casting awkward glances; I think about scabs and scars. I think about Carnage.
I think about bruises and blood to come. I picture the stuffy stewardess – glorified air waitress- in her own blue-and-white monkey suit with the plastic pilot wings and plastic nameplate reading “Kym” casting a wary eye at the English guy in seat 17E of a flight from Miami to Missouri fresh from his last independent appearance before entering Carnage, she's clearly unsure of the man in tinted sunglasses trying to discretely cover the blood bruise around his left eye. I think about the twitter words from everyone over the last week. I think about home.
No one else matters right now. Just Matt Knox. Just Adrienne Levi, Just Alex Winter, Just the other one... The forgotten man... the fourth cog of four... I am the Man With No Name.
BANG!
It's the sound of the waitress placing a piece of white toast with raspberry jam down in front of me. I force a smile up at her and nod to say “thank you.” She doesn't ask if I want anything else. I don't mind. I am the Man With No Name.
***
“Heroes...”
The voice is distinctly that of Steve Matthews. He is in downtown Poplar Bluffs. He's not loitering at all. He's pacing. A gentle rain falls like a thin curtain of mist and water. A black baseball cap, a black hooded sweatshirt, jeans and sneakers offer there protection from the rain. The streets are mostly empty. A few businessmen meander about in a seemingly aimless fashion under enormous black umbrellas. Businesswomen take careful steps to avoid puddles and maintain balance atop the elegant heels of business shoes.
“That's what they think we are... heroes.”
Matthews ducks under the awning of Rodgers Theatre, a damp haven from the soft rainfall.
“Yet they pass on the streets, unable to recognize us. Our alter-egos. How is that possible? We don't wear capes; most of us. We don't wear masks; most of us. We don't hide. We don't have inner-circles and secret identities. So how does someone, how does a quote-unquote “hero” like The Technical Master bask in the thunderous roar of many on any given night, but walk unnoticed on the streets the following Morning?”
Matthews pauses. He removes his hands from the front pockets of his jeans and crosses them in front of his chest. His head rises, lifting the shadow from the brim of his baseball cap like a veil from his face.
“It's because we're temporary. We are Disposable Heroes. We exist as superhuman only for the hours between when Chaos starts and when Chaos ends. That time is bookended by relative obscurity. We exist like disposable camera, disposable razors, disposable contact lenses. Available at convenience. Temporary. The same decaying matter as every other atom, molecule and nucleotide.”
Matthews pauses again. His pale blue-grey eyes follow the path of a businessman who passes in front of him. The man makes no acknowledgment of Steve's existence. He averts his gaze and stares at his shoes. Polished black. Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot.
“Heroes get remembered, but heroes die. Ask Superman. Ask Captain America. Heroes get remembered, but legends never die. So what's a Disposable Hero to do? Our kryptonite and our curse is the knowledge that we are fleeting, and there is only one way to extend our lives. It's a Catch-22, and like Yossarian's friend we can pursue elongated life to the point that we appear dead, or we can shorten our lives in the hopes of immortality."
"Matt Knox, Adrienne Levi, Alex Winter, Steve Matthews, the Disposable Heroes... we choose the latter. Bones break. Lips burst. Teeth get knocked in or out. Necks snap like twigs. Internal organs rupture and fill with blood until it curdles and gurgles up the throat and out the mouth. It is the pursuit of a legacy. We wear our kryptonite around our waists, with our names engraved in them.”
“We kill ourselves to live forever. The first step to immortality is death."
Matthews lowers his head and again lets the shadow of his brim obscure his face. He pulls the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and begins walking off back out into the rain. He stops only briefly to check his reflection in the windowpane of Fred's Diner; a small mom-and-pop coffee and breakfast hole-in-the-wall. He doesn't notice the Man on the other side of the glass, sipping his coffee and eating a slice of white toast whilst looking lost.
***
"No river can return to its source, yet all rivers must have a beginning." = American Indian Proverb
***
The river is wide and it is difficult to reach the other side. The river is long, flowing from the mountains of solitude to the seas of carelessness. He is walking through the streets of the huge metropolis, surrounded by waves of people. It is the river of human flesh and minds. The river of dreams.
He is covered by a long, black, trench coat and a black scarf which hides away half of his lower face. Walking amongst hundreds of other human bodies, careless, and minding his own business. Just like all the other people that surround him. He is a loner within a plethora of other loners. They all share the same space and walk the same streets, without paying attention to what surrounds them.
Walking the same road, taking the same train, the same bus, the same tram. Occupying the same space each and every new day, with the same people. You share the same world but you never care to know or to learn more about the specimen that surround you. You are a loner whilst other loners that exist in the same space .
It is strange, you can be surrounded by so many and never share anything with them. You can be so near, yet so far with some people and so far yet so near with some others. Sharing the same hopes and dreams with others, makes you feel them close and sharing the same space with some, even for years and years, makes you feel nothing about them. They are just figures and nothing more…
...It makes you feel hollow, does it not?
Humans are social animals. They can not exist in solitude. Yet, we have reached a point in which we suffer from it. And what is worse, we chose it deliberately. We think it is better to be alone rather than surrounded by negative people. Which in itself is nothing bad, it has a logic behind it. If you chose to keep others away, you will not be hurt, for you do not allow them to harm you.
The problem is that we are not made to live like that.
The result?
Depression
Neurosis
Psychosis!
We are made to live with others, it is the simple truth. Humans do not have fierce claws and fangs. They are no Tigers. They are humans and as such, made to live in fellowships. That way they can surpass even the greatest of the insurmountable challenges.
But, and he asks this to himself, what if living in society harms you more than that does when you chose solitude? What happens then? Broken minds and broken dreams are the results of bad company as much as Depression and other mind altering statuses are a result of being accompanied in your trip, by loneliness alone…
..One has to chose.
Taking In consideration one´s character and personality, one should make his choices depending from who he is, rather than following premade solutions. One should be what one is and follow the route that better suits him. There are no universal solutions, which apply to everyone..
..what is true is that one should follow his hopes and dreams and not give them away so easily. That way you will remain true to yourself and will not be in danger of succumbing to the negative sides of your existence.
We all have hopes and dreams we care for. We shape a massive river of hopes and dreams, that streams through the metropolis streets. Humans going on about their own business, without caring about the people that sit next to them, for hours, days and ages..
It is strange though..
Sometimes inspiring and other times scary to the bone.
We all exist in this space and we all shape a flowing river of dreams.
It is strange though..
..We exist In company but we live in solitude.
Surrounded by a river, the river of dreams.
***
The scene opens up in a dull looking room. There is a table, near the window, and three candles, adorning that space, enlighten with a feeble light the room. The soft starlight streams in too,getting in from the small window. Steve Matthews is with us again, leaning on the wall, near the window, staring at the candles. His face halfway covered by a red scarf of sorts. He stares at the camera for a few instants more and then starts speaking, in an apathetic tone.
"Living the dream, that is the secret of an accomplished life."
"And I can tell anyone that wants to listen, that I am living the dream. I am a fighter, skilled and born to fight. And what better way to live a life, than to do what someone was born to do? No better way of living a life, I tell you."
"We all fight, day in and day out, our very fights. Each and every day of our lives it is either sink or swim. For each and every one of us it is war, a daily one. But there are different types of war for different people. Some fight in an office, some in the kitchen and others, like me , they fight in the ring."
"People like me? We are professional fighters. But that does not mean that our fight is tougher than that of other people. It just means we get paid to do what we do, meaning we get paid to break bones and spill blood day in and day out."
"And I can not tell you any other thing, rather than the fact that I like what I do, however I'll admit I don't always like who I am. I am a fighter and all I fight for is getting to the top. Beating the best, to be the best is all I strive for. I consider my self lucky because I do a job I love and a job in which I am good at what I do. I know I should show more respect for how lucky I am. though"
"I can pursue my dreams."
"They are simple dreams, the ones of a simple man."
"I must stop pretending to be something I'm not because despite my less than stellar attitude over recent times I genuinely like it like that. Not everyone can be a general, some of us gotta be soldiers. It is better to be a superb soldier, rather than a mediocre general. At the end of the day, that means we gotta do what we are good at, instead of following illusions."
"I must not."
"I must learn my lessons, I must dream without getting lost in the illusions."
"I am a fighter and my dream is to reach for the stardom of professional wrestling that I've faded from."
"Because I can!"
"I can do it because I am skilled at what I do, and I am lucky to know myself good enough to know which opportunity I can choose, in order to achieve my goal. My goal?"
"It is getting to be the best!"
"..One step at a time.."
"My next step? A tag match against two skilled fighters, and a partner who has made me question my own character in ways I havn't liked. All of them, with their hopes and dreams. In order to succeed, one has to stay focused at the task at hand and use all his arsenal, in order to survive."
"It is not easy, a clash of egos and hopes, in a ring which is not big enough to contain all the egos that will be in it. Its gonna explode, I tell you, and all we can hope for, is to survive this match unscathed. True, I am a wrestling technician with plenty of experience, my skill allows me to be in my element when we fight matches like this.."
"..Yet it still isn't easy. All you can do is go in that ring and deliver, hoping it is enough in order to survive. Or even better, hoping is good enough to break some hearts and go out in a blaze of glory, with a special prize waiting for you at the end of the day."
"Despite believing Alex Winter is a liability as a partner, I am not discouraged. I consider this a great opportunity which allows me to know myself and get in line for greatness. I will fight my soul out in order to survive, to be the best and tell a tale of glorious fights. I hope I can do all that´s necessary in order for me to become a carnage legend…"
"There are to be three others with hopes and dreams in that ring though. This means my hopes and dreams need to be the strongest in order for them to be achieved. All I can say is that I will do everything in my might, so that I shall be the winner."
"I am not gonna count the hours spent in the gym or running through the fields. That Is something a true professional considers routine. Certainly not gonna tell anyone that I can nail a suplex or submission hold with ease, because that is implied when you sign on the dotted line and classify yourself as a technical master."
"All I can say is that I will be me. Giving my best to be the greatest, not sparing any broken bone or torn muscle. I will surpass my limits, just so that I can be great and achieve greatness. That I promise you. I can not boast and tell you I will surpass my opponents easily, for both Adrienne Levi and Matt Knox are skilled and egoistical enough to know where they stand."
"Adrienne however does have some strange traits, lets face it when the so called good guys and girls can be seen to make such unfounded scandalous accusations toward someone on subject matter such as rape and homophobia, you know the company will live up to it's name and be carnage. When someone lowers the tone in the way done last week when child rape and torture where deemed suitable subject matter to promote to the world you know carnage has no standards I'll ever be in contradiction of, that doesn't mean I have to like said subject matter though."
"When Adrienne took that low blow at the grade A prick that is Alex Winter, and let's be clear it was a disgusting low blow, you end up with choices. You can take the option of ignoring it and turning away as I did because you know it's a subject that deserves none of your attention. You can take the option of defending yourself such as Alex has done, or the easiest, you can make wrong assumptions and accusations based on nothing the facts will represent, and lets face it, it's easier to assume the new guy is in the wrong right? Much easier than taking a look at the standards of others I'm guessing, because lets be clear, I've looked around Carnage and the attitudes and characters are deplorable, child abuse, false rape accusations, false homophobic slurs, talks of Nazi parties, throwing out insults on twitter like "motherfucker" and all of this in my first week or two. It has allowed me to look at me closely and realise a lot of things though, there is no moral high ground for anyone to pass judgement on anyone else in carnage especially me, yet I must not be dragged down and away by the tide, I must take a longer look at myself, I must be a better man."
"Despite and maybe even because of all that it will be a tough fight, made for tough fighters, and I will be right there, in the middle of the storm, spilling blood and breaking sweat. I threw my name in for this match to be part of moments like this despite my belief that myself and Alex Winter are far from compatible."
"It will be a great fight. All for honor."
"It is a clash of dreams."
"The best become legends, the worst will have their dream turned into a nightmare…"
"...It is a river."
"The river of dreams."
"And we all must try to swim in it."
"Just the best will manage to get to the ocean and become a part of it."
"It is a Fight."
"It is a Dream."
"May the best fighter win… And I shall."
Fade
Last Edit: Jul 11, 2020 2:29:22 GMT -5 by Steve Matthews
Post by Alex Winter on Jul 14, 2020 15:11:40 GMT -5
A Wintry Night
Quebec, Canada
July 11th, 2005
Winters Residence
As Alex sat in the very sophisticated and posh lounge area of his house, well his parents house, he was sitting on a shag pile rug in front of an open fire. The fire was the only source of light in the room, but it was enough to see what Alex Winters was doing. He was looking out at the white blanket of snow outside which covered the trees, ground and the roofs of the houses.
The sixteen year old, often just sat in front of the fire, enjoying the warmth he got from it, especially after wrestling training. You see, in Quebec, Canada you can start training at fifthteen years old. Alex was home alone, his dad was always working, and his mum was always partying. His dad never told him, his mum or his sister what his job was, but whatever it was, it provided them all with wealth and security financially.
Alex was waiting on his sister Jessica and her girlfriend Monica to get home. His sister’s girlfriend had texted him that they were bringing pizza back. Alex got up to his feet, getting an eerie feeling come over him as he did. He walks towards the window looking at the peacefully looking winter scenery outside. Once at the window, that’s when he hears the spine chilling screams coming from outside. Alex knew who these screams were coming from, and that’s what scared him even more. The sixteen year old quickly slid his boots on and rushed outside. The screams had stopped as all you could hear was his boots crunching in the snow. It looked like a peaceful and magical view outside, the smell of the damp pine trees made the air feel fresh and clean.
“JESSICA… MONICA!!!”
Alex shouted as loud as he could, still unable to see where his sister and her girlfriend were. That’s when he hears the same pain ridden scream again, this time it was so piercing, it went right through his head, hurting on the way through. He knew he had to find them, and that he had to do it soon.
“Where are you? Jess… Moni!!!”
He was standing still, looking around frantically to see if he could find them but still he was struggling to do so. That’s when he hears several footsteps crunching in the snow and runs towards them. He didn’t think anything of it, but as he got closer, he could see three dark figures running towards and car. He doesn’t hear the calls of Jessica and Monica as they’re drowned out by the screeching of tyres as the car burns rubber and speeds off into the distance.
Unsure what had happened Alex all puzzled and still scared turned around and wasn’t ready for what he was about to see. He saw Jessica and Monica laying on the ground, the scene can only be described as a bloody massacre. Alex’s complexion lost all colour, he was as white as the blanket of snow on the ground. Tears were falling down the teenage Alex Winters face, as he ran over to Jessica and Monica. He got to Monica first, as he kneels down in the cold snow next to her. That’s when he sees the several stab wounds on her stomach and slashes to her face and hands.
“Monica, wake up! Where is Jessica?”
What Alex had failed to see was that Monica was in a pool of her blood and wasn’t going to be waking up now or ever. The scene was too graphic, and Alex’s eyes were like a tap had been turned on as his tears ran freely down his face. He too was now covered in blood as drops Monica’s body as he was startled by a moaning noise pretty close. He jumped to his feet hoping that his sister was okay, but wasn’t counting on it after seeing Monica.
“Jess, is that… is that you?”
Once again he hears the moaning noise of his sister who was clearly in a lot of pain. He rushes over to where he could hear it coming from. Alex finally sees his sister, definitely not in the way he’d want to see her either. She too had lost a lot of blood, she was holding her phone in one hand trying to call for help, while trying to stop the bleeding with her other hand.
“Please, don’t die on me Jess. Stay with me!”
“Ssh!”
That’s all Jess could manage to say, even in the terrific state she was in, she was still trying to look after him. Jessica and Alex were a team, they spent so much time together and she was the only one he could rely on. Alex takes the phone and calls the emergency services, who tell him to make sure there is pressure on the wound. Alex takes his shirt off, now covered in Monica and Jessica’s blood. He pushes the shirt onto her wound, just for a split second seeing it, and it wasn’t a pretty site at all. This causes Alex to throw up, not only was he covered in blood but now he's sick too. It was an awful mess, one Alex wouldn’t wish on anyone.
“I… I… Love you.”
“Jess, no… Please, don’t leave me alone.”
Alex knew it was too late to save her, but he was just in such a mess as he cried and cried. He grabs her pulling her in for a hug.
“Jess, it’s always been you and I, we’re a team, please don’t leave me alone to face this cruel world. I love you, you can’t be dead, you are not allowed to be. I beg of you, PLEASE!”
He was just kneeling there cradling her, begging and pleading for her not to leave him. It was such a terrible feeling.
“JESSICA!!!”
============
“It’s now very common to hear people say, ‘I’m rather offended by that.’ As if that gives them certain rights. It’s actually nothing more… than a whine. ‘I find that offensive.’ It has no meaning; it has no purpose; it has no reason to be respected as a phase. ‘I am offended by that.’ Well so fucking what.” -
Lesson 101: Definition Of The Truth
Beverly Hills, California
July 15th, 2020
Carnage Classroom
It’s very dark and all that can be made out is that shadow of a person that is standing still.
“Welcome to my home, and to what will be the Carnage Classroom for today ladies and gentlemen of Carnage Wrestling.”
The flip of a switch can be heard as the place now lights up, as you look around the room, you can see that it’s been set up as a classroom. The shadow of a person can clearly be seen as Alex Winters. The classroom had cardboard figures cut out of those in Carnage and sat at each desk.
“I’m sure I don’t need to introduce myself but for the purpose of this class, I’m going to anyway. So… I will be your teacher for today, I’m Mr Winters, so you’ll address me as such if you have a question. Is that understood?”
In his hands Alex Winters had his phone, as he had finished asking that question he pressed on his phone. That’s when a recording replies “Yes, Mr Winters.” Which is welcomed with a smile from Alex Winters.
“Today we’re going to be learning about the Definition Of Truth. It seems that everyone in Carnage Wrestling could do with a dose of it, especially with what I’ve witnessed in my short time of being here in Carnage.
Not only have I been on the receiving end of a lot of hate, I’ve been on the end of false allegations and accusations. Some of which, if I was to take it further, I’d be rolling around in money you’d be having to pay out to me. So just be thankful I have plenty of that already, Oh and the fact I’m not a cowardly bitch. The biggest coward it seems is Lab Rat King, I honestly don’t think he should be a King. A King doesn’t hide behind a block on Twitter, a King rules his Kingdom. I’ll be more of a King than Lab Rat, I’ll not only rule Carnage as my Kingdom and live up to being a King, but I’m going to show I’m not a coward.”
Alex was even dressed up as the part of the teacher. He was dressed up in a suede jumper, with those God awful patches on the elbows of it, wearing suede looking trousers along with them moccasin type things teachers wore.
“I didn’t realise that my first match here in Carnage would end up with my having to educate people, but it seems like it has. Especially with how people clearly like to see things their own way, and take something out of context and blow it up into something it should never have been. I’ll have you know, I’m far from homophobic. I’ll have you know my sister Jessica was a lesbian and I supported her and her girlfriend Monica all the way.
The amount of hate they received was horrible, not only that, they would be spat on, ridiculed and physically attacked. So when you all decided to try and attack me with being homophobic, yes it did piss me off and damn right I was going to stand up for myself. I was by Jessica and Monica’s side every step of the way, from the young age of fourteen years old. If they’d been alive now, God help the wrath you’d have all encountered, but don’t worry class… Levi, Bird Boy Matt and even my Tag Team partner Steve if he gets in my way, will feel the wrath of Alex Winters.”
Picking up a glass of water from his desk, Alex sips on it trying to stay composed and calm as he could. He turns on the projector and places something up on it that shows on the screen at the front of the classroom.
homophobic
ADJECTIVE
homophobic (adjective)
having or showing a dislike of or prejudice against gay people.
"homophobic remarks"
“So class, you can see at the front of the classroom we have the definition of the word homophobic. As it clearly says you have to show a dislike or prejudice against gay people, that’s definitely not me. I couldn’t care who you are or where you were from or even what you define yourself as sexual orientation wise, I’ll treat you how you treat me. Yes I’m an asshole and I won’t deny that, but I’ll always deny being homophobic or making remarks that would lead people to believe so.
I do also have an apology too, that apology I posted was one hundred percent genuine and I meant every word of it. What I do have to add thinking about it is though. I don’t apologise for standing up and defending myself. I don’t apologise for not accepting the wild accusations and definitely not for the allegations either.”
Once again Alex sips on his water as he changes the paper on the projector, now to show something different.
transphobic
ADJECTIVE
having or showing a dislike of or prejudice against transsexual or transgender people.
"bullying is commonly underpinned by sexist, homophobic, or transphobic attitudes"
“Not once have I done this too. The picture I posted was me dressed up as Halloween and because I said it looked like Levi there was an uproar. In no way was it meant as a transphobic slur or insult. It was just me saying that she looked terrible and terrifying, the beautiful comment to her in the first place was just trying to make her feel good. It’ll be the last time I try and do that, especially after the assumptions and accusations that got thrown at me.
Levi, Bird Boy… You can think I’m an asshole, a prick or anything along them line but I’m definitely not transphobic or homophobic for that matter. I think you are ugly, I’m going to tell you that you are ugly whether you are straight, gay, bi or gender fluid or any sexual orientation.”
Finishing off the rest of his water, Alex places it back down on his desk and once again changes the paper on the projector.
rapist
NOUN
a person who commits rape.
“That’s something I haven’t done or ever thought about doing. I’m apparently this though because I replied to ‘Don’t’ with ‘Do.’ A compliment I made was taken extremely out of context, but that seems the done thing I’ve noticed from my short time here in Carnage. Just because I replied that doesn’t mean I’m a rapist. Now if she’d said don’t to sexual intercourse and I did it that would, but I’d never dream of that.
What you all need to ask yourselves is, were we in the wrong for the accusations and allegations?”
Alex takes the paper off the projector, a very serious demeanour about him, which has been such from the start.
“Yes. You were in the wrong, but I’m over it now. You can also shove your apology up your asses too. At Carnage, I’m going to walk out to that ring, and hold my head high. I’m going out there and fighting for my PRIDE and the PRIDE of my sister and her girlfriend too. I dedicate my match to Jessica and Monica. I’m going out there to win, and whatever it takes, I will walk out of that building with the win. Steve, Levi, Matt… Mark my words, it doesn’t matter who gets in my way, I’m on a path to SUCCESS and I’m not letting you, or anyone for that fact stop me. Doesn’t matter who throws false accusations, allegations or in your case Steve false philosophy, it isn’t going to stop me.”
With that said, Alex, still with his serious demeanour sits on the desk, looking out at the cardboard cut outs of the Carnage people. Yet he purely focuses on Levi, and Matt his opponents.
“Levi, Matt, I doubt we’ll ever get on and I can honestly say I don’t care. Matt you might be a former world champion, but that has as much relevance as the titles I held in my time wrestling in Japan. They’re in the past, all be it good things to have done and to have had, but they’re in the past. It’s all about now, and the only thing that is relevant is this Tag Team match. Just know that I don’t care which one of you I pin or submit, I’ll enjoy getting the win over you. As for Steve Matthews, enjoy teaming with the next big thing, “The Wild Card” Alex Winter. No matter what card you have, I have better!”
With that said, Alex Winter gets off the desk and places another piece of paper onto the projector, leaving it there as he walks out of the classroom.
“The self-righteous scream judgments against others to hide the noise of skeletons dancing in their own closets.” -- John Mark Green
============
A Wintry Night: Part Two
Quebec, Canada
July 11th, 2020
Alex Winters Hotel Room
“JESSICA!!!”
Alex wakes up suddenly in a cold sweat, unsure where he was, sweat pouring from him as tears streamed down his face. He wasn’t sure if it was the sweat or the tears, but his face was drenched. He brings his hand up to his face to wipe his eyes, only aggravating them more. Alex just laid there for a second, he didn’t care that he was in a pool of his own sweat, he was just trying to come to terms with what had just happened.
Once he’d got some sort of composure, Alex got to his feet and pulled open the curtains to reveal he was in his hotel bedroom. The light nearly blinded him as he still continued to cry after what had just happened.
“I need to go shower, these damn nightmares are like clockwork this day, every year for fifthteen years now, they don’t get any better.”
He shook his head, he was talking, but there was no one there but him. Was he going insane? Maybe finally he’d lost the plot. Who knows? He headed off for a shower, to see if that’d help.
A while later, back in the hotel room, Alex had showered and was now dressed in a black and grey chequered three piece suit, pink shirt and black tie. The only reason he had a pink shirt on was because it was his sisters favourite colour.
“Just wanted to say, today, like every year on July, Eleventh it’s all about you Jessica. I’m even wearing pink for you. I used to hate wearing pink, but now I do it for you. I’m just getting ready to come see you and Monica. I’m so glad you both have each other to take care of, I’m still alone, but that’s how I like it Jess.”
Alex wipes a tear from his eye, smiling to himself before splashing on some aftershave and holding back the screams. He’d obviously just shaved, after all he was going to see his sister and her girlfriend, he wanted to look his best.
FADE OUT.
FADE BACK IN.
Quebec, Canada
July 11th, 2020
Jessica and Monica’s Grave
Alex was at the graveside of his sister and her girlfriend. He was still in his black and grey chequered three piece suit, pink shirt with black tie and black shoes. He had flowers in his hands as he stood there. Alex was full of emotion, he was fighting tears back as he lays the flowers down onto their grave.
“Jessica, I’m sorry mum and dad aren’t here, but as you can guess, they’re doing their usual. Mum out doing whatever she does and dad out working doing what he does. They paid for the flowers so that counts for something right?”
That hurt him asking that, knowing full well that their parents didn’t care about anyone but themselves. He wipes a tear away as he was sure that as clear as day he heard his sister's voice.
“Baby brother, all that matters is you are here and haven’t forgotten, I’m here still for you as you are for me.”
When the voice of his sister said I’m still here for you, it warmed his heart and he felt a touch on his heart and head.
“Thank you Jessica. You’ll always be in my heart and mind. I’ll never forget you, ever!”
The tears streaming down his face are now accompanied by a warm felt smile upon his face.
“Monica, don’t worry, I’ve definitely not forgotten you either and I watched your favourite movie the other day. That’s right, Dirty Dancing and I ordered that awful pizza you use to eat, Tuna and Sweetcorn. I can’t believe you managed to get my big sister to like it too, but you and her were made for one and other.”
Grabbing a tissue from his pocket, he wipes his eyes and face, wiping the tears that had fallen and were continuing to follow.
“I have my first match in Carnage Wrestling. Do you remember the last time I came here to see you both? I told you I was in talks with them and you both told me to go for it, so I did. I’m in a Tag Team match, my partner as trustworthy as my opponents. As for my opponents, you don’t even want to know about them.”
Alex let out a little sigh, he hadn’t been able to trust anyone ever since losing his sister Jessica and her girlfriend Monica.
“I know if you were here you’d set the record straight and that I’d have to hold you both back from kicking their ass. Jessica, if you were still here, you’d be my Tag Team partner, and I wouldn’t have to worry about carrying anyone then. I just don’t understand why anyone would think I was homophobic, transphobic or any of them bad things.”
He kneeled down in front of the grave, looking at the picture that was set upon it. It was a picture of a sixteen year old Alex with his eighteen year old Jessica sister and her nineteen year old girlfriend Monica. It was the last picture they'd taken together, there were only two copies of it, one Alex always kept with him, and one here upon the grave.
“I know you’d tell me to just ignore them and forget about their opinion because they didn’t know who I was but it hurt, especially happening so close to the anniversary of your death. They don’t know what I’ve witnessed Monica and you go through, even with our own parents not willing to accept it.”
Now with his face in his hands, it’s like the floodlights had been open as the tears that were streaming down his face began to become like flowing waterfalls. If anyone could see Alex right now, they would realize he was masking who he really was and was trying to hide it as much as he could.
Alex was startled a little as he felt an arm go around each of his shoulders. With blurry vision from all his crying, he looked to the left to see his sister. He then looks to the right to see Monica too. Both there for him, two people that even in death were there for him more than anyone else ever have and would be.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
It’s then as if both of them say together “Get up you damn fool, one you are ruining your suit, and two, why are you letting the opinions of those that know nothing about you, get to you?”
Alex shook his head, wiping his eyes as he got to his feet. Wiping off the knees of his suit which were now a bit damp and dirty. Maybe he was crazy after all but all he knew was that, to others Jessica and Monica weren’t there, but they would be for him.
“Jessica, Monica you are right. I’m not going to allow them and their degenerate opinions bring me down. What I see you both fight through, I should be humbled that I never had to fight as hard as you two to be accepted. Just know that I dedicate this match to you both and will go out there and win with pride!!!”
With that said, Alex looks to his left and the last thing he sees is Jessica smile and nod and the same thing with Monica as he looked to his right. Alex blows them both a kiss before composing himself. He takes the tissue from his pocket and wipes his face. He heads back to his car, full of pride, confidence and belief. He had a match to go win, a match that he was dedicating to his sister and her girlfriend.
FADE OUT.
Last Edit: Jul 14, 2020 15:12:51 GMT -5 by Alex Winter