Post by Rick Majors on Sept 9, 2019 20:20:10 GMT -5
I'm in a corn maze. Why the fuck am I in a corn maze? It's September - early September at that - and I'm at "Fall Fair Harvest Fest" in a fucking corn maze.
And I'm lost. And scared.
I'm almost 50 years old. What's wrong with me? No... don't open that topic right now. That's a big one. First I have to get out of this maze.
How hard can this be? It's designed for like kids and families, right?
Why haven't I seen anyone else in here? I know fall festivals aren't the most popular thing this early in the season, but come on. I should have seen someone by now...
WHERE AM I?
Okay, calm down. It's for kids and families, remember? You can do this. Just breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Not that loud. They'll hear you.
Who will hear you?
Them. Him.
What?
Okay... turn left... follow the wall... this looks promising.... turn left again... walk straight.... dead end. Turn around. Walk. Dead end. Turn around. Dead end. Turn around. Dead end. Turn around. Turn around. Turn around.
Everything started getting fuzzy. Then there she was. Kelly. They hadn't talked much recently. Not since he stupidly asked her to help him at ringside. Not since Seromine put his hands on her. Not since she was injured. Again. Thanks to him. Again.
"Kelly, oh my God, I'm so sorry. I..."
"Rick, it's okay."
"What? No. I mean..."
"Rick. It's okay. I'm fine."
"It's just that..."
"I know. It's okay. Come sit down. You look terrible. Like you've seen a ghost. Is everything alright?"
"Yes. No. I'm not sure."
"Come. Sit. Talk to me."
"Okay. Kelly, thanks so much for always being there for me. Thanks so much for listening. You know, sometimes I feel like..."
"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT YOU SON OF A BITCH!"
Kelly's head fell off. Onto the couch. Like, it fell off. But it was still talking. She was still talking. Her posture was getting more and more menacing. Her fingers were reaching toward him like claws. But he was powerless. He didn't move. He barely breathed. He just sat there. He accepted his fate.
"YOU DID THIS TO ME. YOU KILLED ME. YOU KILLED US. EVERYTHING YOU TOUCH TURNS TO HELL. EVERYTHING YOU CLAIM TO LOVE IS DESTROYED. YOU'RE A SICK PERSON, RICK MAJORS. BECAUSE DEEP DOWN I KNOW YOU ENJOY IT. YOU WANT THE PAIN. YOU DON'T CARE WHO IT HAPPENS TO, YOU JUST WANT IT TO COME BECAUSE YOU WANT TO PLAY THE VICTIM. YOU WANT SYMPATHY. YOU WANT PEOPLE TO FEEL BAD FOR YOU. BECAUSE YOU'RE A LOSER. YOU'RE A FRAUD. YOU'RE NOT THE NICE, ACCEPTING GUY YOU PRETEND TO BE. YOU'RE AWFUL. YOU'RE CRUEL. YOU'RE HEARTLESS. YOU CHOSE A LIFE OF MISERY BECAUSE IT'S AN EASY WAY FOR YOU TO GET ATTENTION AND PITY."
"No. Well maybe. I don't... I don't know. I'm lost. Just lost and..."
"YOU'LL GET NO MORE PITY FROM ME!"
The headless body of Kelly Chalmers lunged at him, its razor-sharp nails aiming for his eyes. And he didn't move. He let it happen. He deserved it.
Dead end.
Seriously, where the fuck am I? What time is it? Did I pass out? Is it getting darker? Is it night? No... think, you idiot. A cloud is just blocking the sun. You know what clouds are, right? Come on. Have some sense.
Just get out of here and go home. This is clearly not the right place for you right now. Is there a right place for you? Shut up. This isn't the time for one of your dramatic introspectives. Just get out of this damn maze.
Where am I? Where am I? Where am I? Have I been here before? Today? Am I just walking in circles? What's going on? What is that scraping noise?
Is it coming from outside the maze? It is... right? Or... no... no… it's coming from outside. Right? It can't be in the maze. There's no one else in here. I’m alone. Alone. I've seen no one, remember? Or is he here?
Who?
You know.
Who?
There’s no time. Run.
Why am I running?
I have to get out. I have to. Where is the exit? Where is the exit? I’m going to burn this whole thing down. Where is the exit? Why can't I find it. It's a corn maze at a festival. There has to be an exit. I walked through it to get in here. I just have to find it again. I just have to.... WHAT IS THAT NOISE!?
Fuck…
It’s okay. You’re okay. You just tripped and fell. That’s why you don’t run in a corn maze, you idiot. Fuck my leg hurts. This is exactly what I need. My final injury. The one that ends my career and puts me on the shelf forever. After surviving steel cages and lead pipes and suicide attempts, a corn maze is going to do me in.
Why not? It can’t get any worse. It can’t get any more ridiculous. It can't get any more stupid.
Shut up. There’s that self pity again. Kelly was right. You’re a master of it. You crave it. That wasn’t her. Her head was on the couch beside her. Her fingernails were daggers.
“YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME, RICK!”
Holy fuck. Just get up. Just get up and get out of here. Please… please… but how do I get out? How…? How….? How….? I’m going to die in here. I’m going to die. This is it. Oh my God this is it. Where am I? Turn right. Nothing. Turn left. Nothing. Turn. Turn. Turn. Turn. Turn. Turn.
I wish he’d done it then. I wish I’d died in the ring that night. I was right all along. It should have happened that night. It should have happened then. He should have done it. That would have been a noble death. It would have meant no Seromine. No Gabriel. No falling on the ground in a corn maze. No crying because I’m trapped. None of it. Why couldn’t he have done it then? Why not then? WHY NOT THEN!? I asked him to. I begged him to. And he wouldn’t. He wanted me to suffer. He wanted me to crumble. He wanted more pain for me – much more pain.
And he always gets what he wants.
HOW DO I GET OUT OF HERE!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
And I'm lost. And scared.
I'm almost 50 years old. What's wrong with me? No... don't open that topic right now. That's a big one. First I have to get out of this maze.
How hard can this be? It's designed for like kids and families, right?
Why haven't I seen anyone else in here? I know fall festivals aren't the most popular thing this early in the season, but come on. I should have seen someone by now...
WHERE AM I?
Okay, calm down. It's for kids and families, remember? You can do this. Just breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Not that loud. They'll hear you.
Who will hear you?
Them. Him.
What?
Okay... turn left... follow the wall... this looks promising.... turn left again... walk straight.... dead end. Turn around. Walk. Dead end. Turn around. Dead end. Turn around. Dead end. Turn around. Turn around. Turn around.
Everything started getting fuzzy. Then there she was. Kelly. They hadn't talked much recently. Not since he stupidly asked her to help him at ringside. Not since Seromine put his hands on her. Not since she was injured. Again. Thanks to him. Again.
"Kelly, oh my God, I'm so sorry. I..."
"Rick, it's okay."
"What? No. I mean..."
"Rick. It's okay. I'm fine."
"It's just that..."
"I know. It's okay. Come sit down. You look terrible. Like you've seen a ghost. Is everything alright?"
"Yes. No. I'm not sure."
"Come. Sit. Talk to me."
"Okay. Kelly, thanks so much for always being there for me. Thanks so much for listening. You know, sometimes I feel like..."
"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT YOU SON OF A BITCH!"
Kelly's head fell off. Onto the couch. Like, it fell off. But it was still talking. She was still talking. Her posture was getting more and more menacing. Her fingers were reaching toward him like claws. But he was powerless. He didn't move. He barely breathed. He just sat there. He accepted his fate.
"YOU DID THIS TO ME. YOU KILLED ME. YOU KILLED US. EVERYTHING YOU TOUCH TURNS TO HELL. EVERYTHING YOU CLAIM TO LOVE IS DESTROYED. YOU'RE A SICK PERSON, RICK MAJORS. BECAUSE DEEP DOWN I KNOW YOU ENJOY IT. YOU WANT THE PAIN. YOU DON'T CARE WHO IT HAPPENS TO, YOU JUST WANT IT TO COME BECAUSE YOU WANT TO PLAY THE VICTIM. YOU WANT SYMPATHY. YOU WANT PEOPLE TO FEEL BAD FOR YOU. BECAUSE YOU'RE A LOSER. YOU'RE A FRAUD. YOU'RE NOT THE NICE, ACCEPTING GUY YOU PRETEND TO BE. YOU'RE AWFUL. YOU'RE CRUEL. YOU'RE HEARTLESS. YOU CHOSE A LIFE OF MISERY BECAUSE IT'S AN EASY WAY FOR YOU TO GET ATTENTION AND PITY."
"No. Well maybe. I don't... I don't know. I'm lost. Just lost and..."
"YOU'LL GET NO MORE PITY FROM ME!"
The headless body of Kelly Chalmers lunged at him, its razor-sharp nails aiming for his eyes. And he didn't move. He let it happen. He deserved it.
Dead end.
Seriously, where the fuck am I? What time is it? Did I pass out? Is it getting darker? Is it night? No... think, you idiot. A cloud is just blocking the sun. You know what clouds are, right? Come on. Have some sense.
Just get out of here and go home. This is clearly not the right place for you right now. Is there a right place for you? Shut up. This isn't the time for one of your dramatic introspectives. Just get out of this damn maze.
Where am I? Where am I? Where am I? Have I been here before? Today? Am I just walking in circles? What's going on? What is that scraping noise?
Is it coming from outside the maze? It is... right? Or... no... no… it's coming from outside. Right? It can't be in the maze. There's no one else in here. I’m alone. Alone. I've seen no one, remember? Or is he here?
Who?
You know.
Who?
There’s no time. Run.
Why am I running?
I have to get out. I have to. Where is the exit? Where is the exit? I’m going to burn this whole thing down. Where is the exit? Why can't I find it. It's a corn maze at a festival. There has to be an exit. I walked through it to get in here. I just have to find it again. I just have to.... WHAT IS THAT NOISE!?
Fuck…
It’s okay. You’re okay. You just tripped and fell. That’s why you don’t run in a corn maze, you idiot. Fuck my leg hurts. This is exactly what I need. My final injury. The one that ends my career and puts me on the shelf forever. After surviving steel cages and lead pipes and suicide attempts, a corn maze is going to do me in.
Why not? It can’t get any worse. It can’t get any more ridiculous. It can't get any more stupid.
Shut up. There’s that self pity again. Kelly was right. You’re a master of it. You crave it. That wasn’t her. Her head was on the couch beside her. Her fingernails were daggers.
“YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME, RICK!”
Holy fuck. Just get up. Just get up and get out of here. Please… please… but how do I get out? How…? How….? How….? I’m going to die in here. I’m going to die. This is it. Oh my God this is it. Where am I? Turn right. Nothing. Turn left. Nothing. Turn. Turn. Turn. Turn. Turn. Turn.
TRAUMA 131 – THURSDAY APRIL 18th, 2013
Once the count reaches eight, Grimm rolls back into the ring and rolls straight through ... actually managing to trip up Majors as he enters. Majors falling forward at the unorthodox return, Grimm is up in a flash ... and back to the neck. Stomping. Elbows. Knees. Every joint he can manage aimed directly at a spot 3/4 of an inch below the base of the skull. It’s brutal. Grimm feels no remorse; not that he ever WOULD. But Majors ASKED for this. He, by god, was going to GET it. The referee, however, doesn’t see the nobility in such a choice. But by this point, he’s warned Grimm enough to break counts and break holds. With no end in sight for the Hangtown Horror’s maelstrom ...
... the referee signals for the bell.
DING DING!
As Grimm continues working over Rick Majors, the referee is physically interjecting himself now. And from the back, security begins to pour down the ramp way. Grimm, thinking better of the situation, exits the opposite side of the ring ... leaving security to filter into the ring. However, it’s not needed as Majors is back on his feet within a few moments ... STILL goading Grimm into attacking.
Even going so far as to push security back OUT of the ring, Majors almost PLEADING for Grimm to return.
‘Is that all you HAVE, Grimm?!’
The voice is loud and unmistakable, and the crowd actually cheers for the balls-out warrior that stands tall in the middle of the ring. Grimm, having made his way around to the ramp, nods and ... what appears to be a bemused sort of glimmer in his eyes.
And he always gets what he wants.
HOW DO I GET OUT OF HERE!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
