Post by Justin Kaard on Mar 28, 2016 19:47:31 GMT -5
The days following Mass Destruction should have been filled with frivolity and irresponsible good cheer. At twenty two years old Justin Kaard had become the youngest two time Pure Class Wrestling World Champion in history. Instead it had been spent with dealing with panic attacks, anxiety, and sleepless nights.
Justin sad huddled against the wall, his knees drawn into his chest in an attempt to become the smallest possible target. Why? Just in case. Just in case another one of those things was lurking in the shadows dancing on the walls. Every creak or groan of the house caused him heart to seize. Was it Rhodes stalking through his home or something else. Every car that drove by sent the shadows on the wall dancing, were those Grimm's eyes peering through them or something darker?
Every time he tried to close his eyes he saw it loping at him with its alien grace. He saw it's abhorrently long arms ending with wicked, blood soaked claws gleaming in the moonlight. Sometimes it retained the face of the man it had disguised itself as.
Recently it had begun to take on new shapes in his dreams. Sometimes the creature sported a long crimson mane and beard and spoke as the Lord of Misrule. Sometimes it was surrounded by vagrants, immune to the horrifying creature in their midst. No matter what form the creature took the dreams always ended the same way. Justin ran down the alley and hit a dead end wall. The creature turned the corner behind him, cutting off any hope of escape. Always the same tap tap tap of the claws as it closed in. A stygian scream split the stillness of the night before its breath, hot and raspy, pricked the flesh on the back of his neck.
That's where the similarity to reality ended. There was no last moment save, there was no savior. Justin felt his flesh rend and bones split as the creature's claws raked through his spine. As his life pooled around him and cold stillness settled over him, he awoke.
The dreams left his mind ruined, sleep was no longer a sanctuary. So he sat against the wall, knees drawn tight. Frustration welled up inside of him as a sob escaped his lips. Before all of this the biggest worry he had was how badly was Grimm going to dismantle him or how many times in a row he was going to have to face Mentis. Amazing how the revelation that monsters were real changed your outlook on things. Who'd have thunk?
Justin cradled the business card that James Keenan had left him. It represented a chance to fight against the monsters that made the dark scary again. Not a chance in hell. Justin didn't want anything to do with the world of monsters and monster hunters. What he wanted, what he desperately needed was his sense of normalcy back.
He looked at the clock and subtracted three. That meant it was just past two in the morning back in Seattle. He debated calling brother anyway. When everything hit the proverbial fan, and sometimes the literal one, he'd always been able to rely on Eric to help him out of the situation. Up until Eric had left. For the first time in his life Justin felt entirely alone.
He looked at his clock and began to punch a number he'd never expected to call again. The phone began ringing and Justin held his breathe.
"Moshi-moshi?"
"Matsumoto-sensei, it's Justin Kaard. I'm sorry to bother you at home, sir, but I didn't know who else to call?"
A joyful boom of laughter sounded from the other end, "Don't be sorry, Justin. I'm glad to hear from you, how have you been?"
Justin spent a few moments bringing his NPW mentor up to speed, minus the monster attacks.
"I see," Matsumoto sounded cheerful, "So now that you've beaten Grimm and taken his title they have you facing him immediately. You've certainly upset someone there."
"It's actually worse than that," Justin snorted, I have to face Mentis too. It's a triple threat."
Matsumoto's laughter was so loud Justin had to move the phone away.
"Consider it a compliment," he said, beaming, "apparently they consider you important enough to put you against two of their best. They say a man is best known by his enemies and it seems like you've made good ones since coming back."
Yeah," Justin laughed nervously, "I guess I have. Look, Matsumoto-Sensei, I didn't actually call you to talk about wrestling. I need some advice in a personal matter."
"Of course, Justin. Anything you need."
He took another deep breather, "What if you knew something that almost no one knew but couldn't tell anybody about it because it might be dangerous. To you and anybody you told"
"Well that would depend on what exactly it is that you know, I suppose. And you say that telling anyone puts both them and you in danger, what about these other people that do know of it. You said there were others."
"Yeah, one of them reached out to me. That's how I found out about this thing-"
"This thing that you can't tell me about."
"-Right, this thing that I can't tell you about because it might cause problems for you. But he and the rest of the people who know about this thing, well maybe not the rest, want me to work with them and help with this problem. But if I do that I'm putting my own life at risk. Knowing what I do and trying to do something about it could literally kill me. So what do I do, Matsumoto-Sensei?"
"Well Justin, it seems to me that if there is something you can do about it then you should. If I'm understanding this right, not doing anything could have dire consequences and hurt many people. Does that sound accurate?"
Justin thought of the screams from that night and did his best not to retch into the phone, "Yeah, that sounds about right."
Matsumoto sighed, "Well then, Justin, not only do I think you should, I would say you have an obligation to do so. By protecting others, you save yourself. If you only think of yourself, you'll only destroy yourself."
"What's that, some kind of ancient Japanese proverb?"
"No," Matsumoto said mischievously, "old Kurosawa film."
Justin groaned as his old mentor laughed. The two exchanged pleasantries and goodbyes before the call disconnected. As the sun started peeking into the window, Justin made up his mind. He punched a new set of numbers into the phone.
"James Keenan."
"It's Justin, I'm in."
Justin sad huddled against the wall, his knees drawn into his chest in an attempt to become the smallest possible target. Why? Just in case. Just in case another one of those things was lurking in the shadows dancing on the walls. Every creak or groan of the house caused him heart to seize. Was it Rhodes stalking through his home or something else. Every car that drove by sent the shadows on the wall dancing, were those Grimm's eyes peering through them or something darker?
Every time he tried to close his eyes he saw it loping at him with its alien grace. He saw it's abhorrently long arms ending with wicked, blood soaked claws gleaming in the moonlight. Sometimes it retained the face of the man it had disguised itself as.
Recently it had begun to take on new shapes in his dreams. Sometimes the creature sported a long crimson mane and beard and spoke as the Lord of Misrule. Sometimes it was surrounded by vagrants, immune to the horrifying creature in their midst. No matter what form the creature took the dreams always ended the same way. Justin ran down the alley and hit a dead end wall. The creature turned the corner behind him, cutting off any hope of escape. Always the same tap tap tap of the claws as it closed in. A stygian scream split the stillness of the night before its breath, hot and raspy, pricked the flesh on the back of his neck.
That's where the similarity to reality ended. There was no last moment save, there was no savior. Justin felt his flesh rend and bones split as the creature's claws raked through his spine. As his life pooled around him and cold stillness settled over him, he awoke.
The dreams left his mind ruined, sleep was no longer a sanctuary. So he sat against the wall, knees drawn tight. Frustration welled up inside of him as a sob escaped his lips. Before all of this the biggest worry he had was how badly was Grimm going to dismantle him or how many times in a row he was going to have to face Mentis. Amazing how the revelation that monsters were real changed your outlook on things. Who'd have thunk?
Justin cradled the business card that James Keenan had left him. It represented a chance to fight against the monsters that made the dark scary again. Not a chance in hell. Justin didn't want anything to do with the world of monsters and monster hunters. What he wanted, what he desperately needed was his sense of normalcy back.
He looked at the clock and subtracted three. That meant it was just past two in the morning back in Seattle. He debated calling brother anyway. When everything hit the proverbial fan, and sometimes the literal one, he'd always been able to rely on Eric to help him out of the situation. Up until Eric had left. For the first time in his life Justin felt entirely alone.
He looked at his clock and began to punch a number he'd never expected to call again. The phone began ringing and Justin held his breathe.
"Moshi-moshi?"
"Matsumoto-sensei, it's Justin Kaard. I'm sorry to bother you at home, sir, but I didn't know who else to call?"
A joyful boom of laughter sounded from the other end, "Don't be sorry, Justin. I'm glad to hear from you, how have you been?"
Justin spent a few moments bringing his NPW mentor up to speed, minus the monster attacks.
"I see," Matsumoto sounded cheerful, "So now that you've beaten Grimm and taken his title they have you facing him immediately. You've certainly upset someone there."
"It's actually worse than that," Justin snorted, I have to face Mentis too. It's a triple threat."
Matsumoto's laughter was so loud Justin had to move the phone away.
"Consider it a compliment," he said, beaming, "apparently they consider you important enough to put you against two of their best. They say a man is best known by his enemies and it seems like you've made good ones since coming back."
Yeah," Justin laughed nervously, "I guess I have. Look, Matsumoto-Sensei, I didn't actually call you to talk about wrestling. I need some advice in a personal matter."
"Of course, Justin. Anything you need."
He took another deep breather, "What if you knew something that almost no one knew but couldn't tell anybody about it because it might be dangerous. To you and anybody you told"
"Well that would depend on what exactly it is that you know, I suppose. And you say that telling anyone puts both them and you in danger, what about these other people that do know of it. You said there were others."
"Yeah, one of them reached out to me. That's how I found out about this thing-"
"This thing that you can't tell me about."
"-Right, this thing that I can't tell you about because it might cause problems for you. But he and the rest of the people who know about this thing, well maybe not the rest, want me to work with them and help with this problem. But if I do that I'm putting my own life at risk. Knowing what I do and trying to do something about it could literally kill me. So what do I do, Matsumoto-Sensei?"
"Well Justin, it seems to me that if there is something you can do about it then you should. If I'm understanding this right, not doing anything could have dire consequences and hurt many people. Does that sound accurate?"
Justin thought of the screams from that night and did his best not to retch into the phone, "Yeah, that sounds about right."
Matsumoto sighed, "Well then, Justin, not only do I think you should, I would say you have an obligation to do so. By protecting others, you save yourself. If you only think of yourself, you'll only destroy yourself."
"What's that, some kind of ancient Japanese proverb?"
"No," Matsumoto said mischievously, "old Kurosawa film."
Justin groaned as his old mentor laughed. The two exchanged pleasantries and goodbyes before the call disconnected. As the sun started peeking into the window, Justin made up his mind. He punched a new set of numbers into the phone.
"James Keenan."
"It's Justin, I'm in."
