Post by Murdoc on Sept 13, 2014 2:48:05 GMT -5
'Oh no!'
‘Time got away from me! I’ve just been so BUSY that I haven’t found the time ...’
“Tell me if THAT sounds familiar.”
“You’ve said it to yourself at least ONCE in the past seven days. AT LEAST once. Maybe you’ve said it someone close to you. Perhaps you forgot to do something really important in the maelstrom; it just slipped your mind. Happens to the best of us. Guess it just slipped your mind. I completely forgot. DIDN’T THINK OF IT UNTIL JUST NOW!”
Cascading anger crests behind suddenly violent words.
“I’ve put in my time here. EVERY TRICKLE OF SAND that I've put into this place. TEN YEARS I’ve waited for this night. A DECADE. I’ve waited through lawsuits and injuries. Death and rebirth. IT HAS ALL BEEN FOR THIS NIGHT! And here you two are. Stormm, fighting for a piece of my legacy ... another coat-tail to ride into the sunset. Loki, fighting for the pound of flesh that you think you deserve and to ‘prove something’.”
The derision dribbles from his lips, pooling in a slick at his feet.
“Time is what I have.”
“Ten years of it. I’ve been saving it. Hoarding it. Keeping it for this night. I’ve salivated for the night where I truly step head and shoulders above everyone else. I’ve had so many moments replayed in Pure Class lore. Brief glimpses of what SHOULD have been, flashes of what I am TRULY capable of. But ask around, boys. Ask around. Ask the next person you see. Anyone at all. Ask them what’s coming. They’ll tell you. Every last one of them will tell you that this is MY year. It’s MY time.“
“YOU’RE ON MY FUCKING CLOCK NOW!”
Finally, the walls come crashing down. Reason pushed to the side, pure emotion left on the burner to percolate ... the hands of the clock drop from its’ pale face.
“THIS IS MY YEAR! 2014. The Year of Murdoc. TWO TIME NORTH AMERICAN CHAMPION! Winner of the 2014 Icemann Invitational Tournament! Icey Award Winner! What have YOU done?! You’ve done nothing but waste everyone’s time! Who in their right mind cares for either Stormm OR Loki?! NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOU. No one cares about you because you don’t care enough to PUT IN THE TIME. You can’t be bothered to find the time to even CONSIDER an upcoming pay-per-view.”
“Right now, I bet a game of kickball would be a higher priority for you two schmucks.”
****
Breathe deep.
Feel the heart beat in your chest.
The sound of a thousand drums ... every single one of them crammed between his breastbone and spine. All of them trying to play ‘Wipe Out’ at the SAME FUCKING TIME.
The thrum of your blood as it courses just under the skin.
The dull ache of your muscles.
Well, of COURSE they ache. For a week and a half, Murdoc has done nothing but train. Three times a day. Juggling not only his duties as lover and soul mate, but as a contracted employee of a major company. Murdoc can say he has done his best. Not the greatest, but as best he can. Even still, he can feel the distance between himself and her. Obligations and responsibilities keeping them apart more-so than either would prefer. An uncomfortable distance. He hated it. Hated what the chaos and the rest of the world was doing to them.
Her Order.
The Chaos.
Sick of it.
Jackson. PCW. The Black Hand. Championships. Work. All of it. Always something between them. Bonding them in understanding, but separated all the same. One last push, one last time. Time is growing short. He can feel it in his bones. This has to be it. Go out in a blaze of glory. Accomplish something INCREDIBLE. Leave them with a memory to last a lifetime ... make the time WORTH IT. For in the end ...
... no man’s clock ticks forever.
Once you cash in, it’s gone. All the time you’ve worked for something, all the hard work and the sacrifice. All the pain and effort, the sweat and the strain. When it’s gone, it’s GONE.
The clock marches on with or without you.
-To Be Continued-
