Post by The Anarchist on Jun 13, 2016 4:46:45 GMT -5
OOC: I wanted to take a moment to send my deepest condolences to the victims and families of yesterday’s heartbreaking massacre. It’s another sad reminder of a bigger problem that needs addressing in our country, but tonight, our focus should be on healing and support for those affected by the senseless tragedy. I hope that my little piece of fiction brings enjoyment to all who read, and that wherever you are, you are alright.
Prologue
Reunited and it feels so good.
What am I talking about? Simple. Stepping between the ropes of the squared circle and competing once more. What puts the cherry on top of the sundae is the fact I walked out victorious. Razor Blade was given the beating he so rightly deserved, hopefully knocking out any ideas he had of wanting to main event. And then there’s Baby Jenks. The one who took the pinfall. It was easy to manipulate her. Right, Alexa? I suppose there is always Rick Majors, if she wanted to wi…
Oh.
But not everything out of Trauma was a positive. I never did like politics, Michael. It was one thing that drove me to the realms. While I find humor in your plan to dock what I’m owed, I suggest you find the nearest optometrist. You need to get some glasses for the eyes you best have in the back of your head, especially since the ones you have in front have gone blind.
Simply because you have the title, “President,” has given us a reason to assassinate. We’ll be the John Wilkes Booth to your Abraham Lincoln. Rectify your mistake before bell time or...as you so eloquently warned Murdoc, YOUR days will be numbered. After all, I’m sure you would like to continue breathing without medical assistance. It would be a mighty shame if you were unable to continue having that luxury…
A luxury that we took away from them.
As I said at Living a Legacy, he’s dead. What I forgot to mention was that his wife was a lousy fuck, but that’s to be expected when you don’t have a pulse. While I’m making a confession, his kids are buried somewhere in the deserts of New Mexico.
Or was it Arizona?
Of course it could have been Nevada.
Or...of course...I could be lying about this and just wanting to see how you react. Does that make me loco?
Ah well. The details, the lives, the memories and truth aren’t important. Much like society as a whole.
My followers must have been Carrie White in another life, because the world laughed at them. Pushed aside with disgust. Scorned by ridicule. They had birth names when we found them. Unimportant now because those have been changed. I was their light in an uncaring world of dark, only now we would collectively become the monsters warned about in the throws of night. Talked about on the news, and the ones who would provide the world a new shine: The rage of wildfire, consuming without regard for what laid in it’s path. After all, nature deserves the chance at revenge as well.
How’s that for balance?
Present
Up in a small attic located on the third floor of his home, Jason was fixated on looking out the half moon windows which provided an aerial view to Absinthe. From his position he could see the picturesque community of colored houses, dotted with perfectly trimmed mint green lawns and white picket fences that added to it’s charm. The features were too far away to fully make out, but it mattered not to The Anti-Humanity Prophet of Evil. He knew that over there there, there were people who like in Anaheim, laughed about the weirdos in the farmhouse. Or so he was convincing himself in his mind, having yet to wander into parts unknown. His hands tensed against the sloped wall. A heavy sigh of agitation cresting while his body remained rigid. It were as if the Grinch was looking down on Whoville. Unknowingly, the second of his daughters had snuck upstairs looking for him.
“Dad?”
Jason quickly spun around as if hearing the voice of an intruder, ready to defend himself and family from the invading danger. Once he realized who was standing there, he relented his anxiety. Autumn stood less than five feet away from him in the empty room. She bore a resemblance to her mother, while sharing in what would later be a tall height from both parents.
“There is no Dad. Only Zuul!” he quipped.
“Who?”
“Zuul. It’s from Ghostbusters.”
“Dad, that doesn’t come out until July.” Autumn said with conviction.
Jason’s mouth slowly widened. Disbelief had taken occupancy in his eyes. His daughter had been raised on a steady diet of movies from the eighties, so certainly she had to know better. Moving aside his long, light brown hair and revealing a dire need of a shave, Jason waltzed to his daughter and gently put his left arm around her.
“Go to your room, you’re grounded!”
Now it was her turn to look on in disbelief.
“Aw what?? For how long??”
“Until next July!”
“But your birthday is in July! I know you wouldn’t want me to miss that!”
“...yes it is. Damnit. I hate it when you’re right. You must have inherited that from your mom.”
Autumn giggled at the joke, making sure to hug her father ever so tight and with an extra bit of love for good measure.
“Am I really grounded?”
“No. Go play, daughter of Zuul.”
“Dad. That’s soo 1984. Get with the times, man. Get with the times!”
Jason laughed as he walked further and further away from his watching perch, keeping his daughter nestled against his side. “Says the girl who thinks she lived in the sixties.”
“Responds the man who wasn’t even born in that decade!”
Touché. Kid, one. Parent, zilch. Father and Daughter escorted one another from the attic, walking carefully down the ladder. Shortly after touching the second wooden floor, Autumn was allowed to run off. Jason smiled, his internal laughter cutting through the tension he was previously feeling. He could have gone the rest of the day without having a second thought about Absinthe, and perhaps even remained even keel about everything, had it not been for the noise coming from the room of the lone hold out of the move.
Kristen Leigh Willard. His spitting image, fourteen year old daughter and eldest of the four girls, was inside of her bedroom. A sign reading KEEP OUT hung on a nail from the ruby red door. The noise in question (as any parent has experienced) was loud music. Jason had no idea who the artist was, as typically was the case with today’s generation of so-called “musicians,” a term which barely remained true anymore. She had previously been warned to turn it down and with polite courtesy to her activity.
She didn’t listen the first time. Or second time. That was what Autumn had been sent upstairs for by Destiny. Because Kristen didn’t want to listen to her, so she would have to now face her father. He didn’t bother knocking. If she were in some state of undress, it would be her own problem. Luckily it didn’t happen that way. Instead, he was greeted by a black light which cascaded her room in violet luminescence. Kristen herself was outstretched on her bed, adorned in black clothing and a veil over her face.
It was one of those phases.
Jason marched over and turned off the racket, immediately drawing the attention of his child. She quickly sat up and having now realized who stood before her, pulled the veil back to reveal her pale white face (make up giving her that Lydia Deetz look). An annoyed look greeted Dad, who by this point invited himself to have a seat next to her. Kristen had not been happy about moving away from the only city she ever knew, and had been rebelling ever since.
“Autumn tells me your mother asked if you would turn the music down.”
“So?”
“So why didn’t you?”
“Because I didn’t feel like it.”
Jason nodded, a smile slowly beginning to curve his lips as he mouthed those six words to himself. Kristen decides to lay back down, pulling the lace back over her face. She was in mourning over the loss of Anaheim.
“I see. Well sweetheart, we don’t feel like having to listen to a bunch of pathetic hacks who say they can sing, but rely on autotune. So let’s just drop the attitude and keep the noise down, please.”
“Sure. Right after you drop the ‘I love Kristen’ act and admit you moved me away because you hated the fact I was happy. The fact I was in love with Jimmy.”
This made Jason laugh and shake his head. It would be another battle of teen angst against parental wisdom here today. Not the first time. Probably not the last.
“Kristen, I do love you. So does your mom. You know this. You also know I did what was right for all of us. Nothing in this world means more to me than you girls and your happiness. I know it’s hard to underst...”
Kristen cuts him off by mocking what she has already heard.
“I know it’s hard to understand right now, but over time you’ll see that I was right. Yeah Dad, I know. You only say it as often as you do one of your many ideas of burning the world.”
Jason’s body language was beginning to change.
“Newsflash. The only world you have managed to burn is mine!” Kristen belted, choking back tears. “He’s gone and you guys took him from me!! Why is it that you two can be in love, but I can’t? I’m almost Fifteen years old! I’m not a little girl anymore...”
Tears flooded from her eyes, with points of sniffling. Her heartache was on full display as she curled into a ball, sobbing now into her pillow. Jason wanted to hold her, wipe away her pain and say he was sorry that what he had done made her feel the way she did. Deep down he felt like the right thing had been done and expected this sort of tribulation. But that didn’t ease the guilt one bit. So he sighed and very gently tried giving Kristen a hug.
To his surprise she allowed it, and embraced ever so tightly as her pain continued to spill over. Jason gently kisses her head, trying to find any way to offer her comfort. His family came before anything else. As was always the case.
“I...know you aren’t. Time has moved so fast. Nothing I or your Mom has done was ever meant to hurt you. All we ask is to give this new place a chance. I know it will take time to embrace it, but deep down I hope you can understand why the decision was made.”
Kristen through her sobs began to wipe her tears away. Giving her dad a weak nod, the makings of a smile were showing behind the veil. “Can I at least see the new town and make some friends?”
Hesitation was the silent answer. Kristen pulled her veil back, the violet light shielding the red in her eyes as she looked up to find the gaze of her dad. “Please?”
Jason hesitated for a few more seconds before nodding to her request. “Yes. Of course you can. That is if any want to be friends with a hellion!”
Kristen finally laughed, her happiness breaking through the depressive torment. “I’m the spawn of you and mom, so what does that make you guys?”
“Devils.” Jason replied as he got off his bed. He moved back to her stereo to turn the music back on, but at a level that wouldn’t disturb the rest of the house.
“Hey Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you. And I’m sorry for being a pain.”
Jason smiles while opening the door. “I love you too. It’s ok, I’m used to that from your mother.”
Kristen feigned being shocked, “Oh! So mean. Wait until I tell her what you said, heh.”
“She may banish me to the third floor. You know, like in Home Alone?”
Both laughed over that as Jason leaves the room. His laughter would slowly die down though, “Pain is what awaits Absinthe, my darling daughter.”
Seromine’s Effigy
It must have been shortly after midnight before Seromine stepped out of the house. His children were sound asleep in bed. Kristen’s music remained humming from inside her walls, but at a level that was loud enough for her to enjoy it. Destiny waited in bed, having been told by her hubby that he had to go check on something really quick. She made him promise to make it quick, because when he got back in bed, she wouldn’t be in regards to...well, you know. Seromine took with him his Owl mask, slipping it over his face once he got out into the chilly air of the night.
Stars scattered across the expansive sky, flickering in alternates of pumpkin orange and ash grey. The distant sounds of crackling fire and chirping crickets could be heard from within Labyrinth Grove. Seromine walked amongst the dusty trails that would take him to his gathered followers. The fire’s glow highlighting the eight masks of the animal kingdom that each wore. They were already circled around the pit, a scarecrow dressed as Justin Michaels erected near them. Seromine takes his spot at the top of the circle, staring at the straw display.
“My brothers and sisters. Our next mission has brought forth a returning FORCE OF NATURE!”
Nature. The Force of Nature, chanted the Harbingers.
“He calls himself Stormm, and comes as no stranger to me. We go back years to my old stomping grounds of the old Team USA Federation. Our paths crossing in his IAWF neck of the woods and finally culminating here in PCW. Justin Michaels has a rich, championship pedigree wherever he has been, but with it, a LIST of failures as well. His return brings a caveat of a title contendership. The victor of our match earning the right to face International Champion, Andy D.”
ANDY! STORMM! BOTH MUST FALL.
“Michaels returns NOT as a whole person, but as one who had a serious injury. One that begs to be exploited. One that offers itself as a sacrifice to our cause, putting itself out there for re-harm. I say LET IT BE HARMED! The foolish head (and in-ring technical master) of Havoc Incorporated shall pay the price come Trauma. He, like HIM!” roars Seromine “No. Like THEM! Know of who I once was, but not what I am becoming. Justin Michaels belongs to the same bracket as the Mystical Madman and his sweet, little, candy teleporter. They shall be dealt with at our earliest convenience. But after the defective, broken, Stormm is returned to sender, Andy D will be next...The single letter of his name standing for DEFEATED!”
Hissing of that word passes through, with one of the followers shaking the mock scarecrow nearly off of it’s cross in elatement.
“This is just a ploy from the so-called President to further delay the fates of Nathan Saniti and Kelli Starr. The chance to become a challenger to my first singles title in PCW, a mere carrot being dangled to take out his former Black Hand teammate and adversary. Well, Mr. President...”
Seromine’s shift in tone going from preacher to sinister was quick. He saunters towards the Stormm mockery, ripping it off of it’s hold as it finds itself being thrown into the fire. The followers take one another by the hand and start skipping around like children would during recess. Seromine himself boasts with an evil, emotionless cackle.
“Be mighty careful what you wish for. His blood is on YOUR hands. But that of the two Star(r)crossed lovers...”
Seromine begins to walk to the path which led him here, “Is. On. MINE!”
Prologue
Reunited and it feels so good.
What am I talking about? Simple. Stepping between the ropes of the squared circle and competing once more. What puts the cherry on top of the sundae is the fact I walked out victorious. Razor Blade was given the beating he so rightly deserved, hopefully knocking out any ideas he had of wanting to main event. And then there’s Baby Jenks. The one who took the pinfall. It was easy to manipulate her. Right, Alexa? I suppose there is always Rick Majors, if she wanted to wi…
Oh.
But not everything out of Trauma was a positive. I never did like politics, Michael. It was one thing that drove me to the realms. While I find humor in your plan to dock what I’m owed, I suggest you find the nearest optometrist. You need to get some glasses for the eyes you best have in the back of your head, especially since the ones you have in front have gone blind.
Simply because you have the title, “President,” has given us a reason to assassinate. We’ll be the John Wilkes Booth to your Abraham Lincoln. Rectify your mistake before bell time or...as you so eloquently warned Murdoc, YOUR days will be numbered. After all, I’m sure you would like to continue breathing without medical assistance. It would be a mighty shame if you were unable to continue having that luxury…
A luxury that we took away from them.
As I said at Living a Legacy, he’s dead. What I forgot to mention was that his wife was a lousy fuck, but that’s to be expected when you don’t have a pulse. While I’m making a confession, his kids are buried somewhere in the deserts of New Mexico.
Or was it Arizona?
Of course it could have been Nevada.
Or...of course...I could be lying about this and just wanting to see how you react. Does that make me loco?
Ah well. The details, the lives, the memories and truth aren’t important. Much like society as a whole.
My followers must have been Carrie White in another life, because the world laughed at them. Pushed aside with disgust. Scorned by ridicule. They had birth names when we found them. Unimportant now because those have been changed. I was their light in an uncaring world of dark, only now we would collectively become the monsters warned about in the throws of night. Talked about on the news, and the ones who would provide the world a new shine: The rage of wildfire, consuming without regard for what laid in it’s path. After all, nature deserves the chance at revenge as well.
How’s that for balance?
Present
Up in a small attic located on the third floor of his home, Jason was fixated on looking out the half moon windows which provided an aerial view to Absinthe. From his position he could see the picturesque community of colored houses, dotted with perfectly trimmed mint green lawns and white picket fences that added to it’s charm. The features were too far away to fully make out, but it mattered not to The Anti-Humanity Prophet of Evil. He knew that over there there, there were people who like in Anaheim, laughed about the weirdos in the farmhouse. Or so he was convincing himself in his mind, having yet to wander into parts unknown. His hands tensed against the sloped wall. A heavy sigh of agitation cresting while his body remained rigid. It were as if the Grinch was looking down on Whoville. Unknowingly, the second of his daughters had snuck upstairs looking for him.
“Dad?”
Jason quickly spun around as if hearing the voice of an intruder, ready to defend himself and family from the invading danger. Once he realized who was standing there, he relented his anxiety. Autumn stood less than five feet away from him in the empty room. She bore a resemblance to her mother, while sharing in what would later be a tall height from both parents.
“There is no Dad. Only Zuul!” he quipped.
“Who?”
“Zuul. It’s from Ghostbusters.”
“Dad, that doesn’t come out until July.” Autumn said with conviction.
Jason’s mouth slowly widened. Disbelief had taken occupancy in his eyes. His daughter had been raised on a steady diet of movies from the eighties, so certainly she had to know better. Moving aside his long, light brown hair and revealing a dire need of a shave, Jason waltzed to his daughter and gently put his left arm around her.
“Go to your room, you’re grounded!”
Now it was her turn to look on in disbelief.
“Aw what?? For how long??”
“Until next July!”
“But your birthday is in July! I know you wouldn’t want me to miss that!”
“...yes it is. Damnit. I hate it when you’re right. You must have inherited that from your mom.”
Autumn giggled at the joke, making sure to hug her father ever so tight and with an extra bit of love for good measure.
“Am I really grounded?”
“No. Go play, daughter of Zuul.”
“Dad. That’s soo 1984. Get with the times, man. Get with the times!”
Jason laughed as he walked further and further away from his watching perch, keeping his daughter nestled against his side. “Says the girl who thinks she lived in the sixties.”
“Responds the man who wasn’t even born in that decade!”
Touché. Kid, one. Parent, zilch. Father and Daughter escorted one another from the attic, walking carefully down the ladder. Shortly after touching the second wooden floor, Autumn was allowed to run off. Jason smiled, his internal laughter cutting through the tension he was previously feeling. He could have gone the rest of the day without having a second thought about Absinthe, and perhaps even remained even keel about everything, had it not been for the noise coming from the room of the lone hold out of the move.
Kristen Leigh Willard. His spitting image, fourteen year old daughter and eldest of the four girls, was inside of her bedroom. A sign reading KEEP OUT hung on a nail from the ruby red door. The noise in question (as any parent has experienced) was loud music. Jason had no idea who the artist was, as typically was the case with today’s generation of so-called “musicians,” a term which barely remained true anymore. She had previously been warned to turn it down and with polite courtesy to her activity.
She didn’t listen the first time. Or second time. That was what Autumn had been sent upstairs for by Destiny. Because Kristen didn’t want to listen to her, so she would have to now face her father. He didn’t bother knocking. If she were in some state of undress, it would be her own problem. Luckily it didn’t happen that way. Instead, he was greeted by a black light which cascaded her room in violet luminescence. Kristen herself was outstretched on her bed, adorned in black clothing and a veil over her face.
It was one of those phases.
Jason marched over and turned off the racket, immediately drawing the attention of his child. She quickly sat up and having now realized who stood before her, pulled the veil back to reveal her pale white face (make up giving her that Lydia Deetz look). An annoyed look greeted Dad, who by this point invited himself to have a seat next to her. Kristen had not been happy about moving away from the only city she ever knew, and had been rebelling ever since.
“Autumn tells me your mother asked if you would turn the music down.”
“So?”
“So why didn’t you?”
“Because I didn’t feel like it.”
Jason nodded, a smile slowly beginning to curve his lips as he mouthed those six words to himself. Kristen decides to lay back down, pulling the lace back over her face. She was in mourning over the loss of Anaheim.
“I see. Well sweetheart, we don’t feel like having to listen to a bunch of pathetic hacks who say they can sing, but rely on autotune. So let’s just drop the attitude and keep the noise down, please.”
“Sure. Right after you drop the ‘I love Kristen’ act and admit you moved me away because you hated the fact I was happy. The fact I was in love with Jimmy.”
This made Jason laugh and shake his head. It would be another battle of teen angst against parental wisdom here today. Not the first time. Probably not the last.
“Kristen, I do love you. So does your mom. You know this. You also know I did what was right for all of us. Nothing in this world means more to me than you girls and your happiness. I know it’s hard to underst...”
Kristen cuts him off by mocking what she has already heard.
“I know it’s hard to understand right now, but over time you’ll see that I was right. Yeah Dad, I know. You only say it as often as you do one of your many ideas of burning the world.”
Jason’s body language was beginning to change.
“Newsflash. The only world you have managed to burn is mine!” Kristen belted, choking back tears. “He’s gone and you guys took him from me!! Why is it that you two can be in love, but I can’t? I’m almost Fifteen years old! I’m not a little girl anymore...”
Tears flooded from her eyes, with points of sniffling. Her heartache was on full display as she curled into a ball, sobbing now into her pillow. Jason wanted to hold her, wipe away her pain and say he was sorry that what he had done made her feel the way she did. Deep down he felt like the right thing had been done and expected this sort of tribulation. But that didn’t ease the guilt one bit. So he sighed and very gently tried giving Kristen a hug.
To his surprise she allowed it, and embraced ever so tightly as her pain continued to spill over. Jason gently kisses her head, trying to find any way to offer her comfort. His family came before anything else. As was always the case.
“I...know you aren’t. Time has moved so fast. Nothing I or your Mom has done was ever meant to hurt you. All we ask is to give this new place a chance. I know it will take time to embrace it, but deep down I hope you can understand why the decision was made.”
Kristen through her sobs began to wipe her tears away. Giving her dad a weak nod, the makings of a smile were showing behind the veil. “Can I at least see the new town and make some friends?”
Hesitation was the silent answer. Kristen pulled her veil back, the violet light shielding the red in her eyes as she looked up to find the gaze of her dad. “Please?”
Jason hesitated for a few more seconds before nodding to her request. “Yes. Of course you can. That is if any want to be friends with a hellion!”
Kristen finally laughed, her happiness breaking through the depressive torment. “I’m the spawn of you and mom, so what does that make you guys?”
“Devils.” Jason replied as he got off his bed. He moved back to her stereo to turn the music back on, but at a level that wouldn’t disturb the rest of the house.
“Hey Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you. And I’m sorry for being a pain.”
Jason smiles while opening the door. “I love you too. It’s ok, I’m used to that from your mother.”
Kristen feigned being shocked, “Oh! So mean. Wait until I tell her what you said, heh.”
“She may banish me to the third floor. You know, like in Home Alone?”
Both laughed over that as Jason leaves the room. His laughter would slowly die down though, “Pain is what awaits Absinthe, my darling daughter.”
Seromine’s Effigy
It must have been shortly after midnight before Seromine stepped out of the house. His children were sound asleep in bed. Kristen’s music remained humming from inside her walls, but at a level that was loud enough for her to enjoy it. Destiny waited in bed, having been told by her hubby that he had to go check on something really quick. She made him promise to make it quick, because when he got back in bed, she wouldn’t be in regards to...well, you know. Seromine took with him his Owl mask, slipping it over his face once he got out into the chilly air of the night.
Stars scattered across the expansive sky, flickering in alternates of pumpkin orange and ash grey. The distant sounds of crackling fire and chirping crickets could be heard from within Labyrinth Grove. Seromine walked amongst the dusty trails that would take him to his gathered followers. The fire’s glow highlighting the eight masks of the animal kingdom that each wore. They were already circled around the pit, a scarecrow dressed as Justin Michaels erected near them. Seromine takes his spot at the top of the circle, staring at the straw display.
“My brothers and sisters. Our next mission has brought forth a returning FORCE OF NATURE!”
Nature. The Force of Nature, chanted the Harbingers.
“He calls himself Stormm, and comes as no stranger to me. We go back years to my old stomping grounds of the old Team USA Federation. Our paths crossing in his IAWF neck of the woods and finally culminating here in PCW. Justin Michaels has a rich, championship pedigree wherever he has been, but with it, a LIST of failures as well. His return brings a caveat of a title contendership. The victor of our match earning the right to face International Champion, Andy D.”
ANDY! STORMM! BOTH MUST FALL.
“Michaels returns NOT as a whole person, but as one who had a serious injury. One that begs to be exploited. One that offers itself as a sacrifice to our cause, putting itself out there for re-harm. I say LET IT BE HARMED! The foolish head (and in-ring technical master) of Havoc Incorporated shall pay the price come Trauma. He, like HIM!” roars Seromine “No. Like THEM! Know of who I once was, but not what I am becoming. Justin Michaels belongs to the same bracket as the Mystical Madman and his sweet, little, candy teleporter. They shall be dealt with at our earliest convenience. But after the defective, broken, Stormm is returned to sender, Andy D will be next...The single letter of his name standing for DEFEATED!”
Hissing of that word passes through, with one of the followers shaking the mock scarecrow nearly off of it’s cross in elatement.
“This is just a ploy from the so-called President to further delay the fates of Nathan Saniti and Kelli Starr. The chance to become a challenger to my first singles title in PCW, a mere carrot being dangled to take out his former Black Hand teammate and adversary. Well, Mr. President...”
Seromine’s shift in tone going from preacher to sinister was quick. He saunters towards the Stormm mockery, ripping it off of it’s hold as it finds itself being thrown into the fire. The followers take one another by the hand and start skipping around like children would during recess. Seromine himself boasts with an evil, emotionless cackle.
“Be mighty careful what you wish for. His blood is on YOUR hands. But that of the two Star(r)crossed lovers...”
Seromine begins to walk to the path which led him here, “Is. On. MINE!”