Post by Rick Majors on May 5, 2017 21:09:54 GMT -5
When he first walked onto the property, it was a little after 9 pm. He didn’t want to get there too late into the night. If he showed up at midnight, they’d probably be home. That’s the last thing he wanted.
Getting through the fence was easy. He knew it would be. It was just a simple wood fence and it wasn’t even six feet high. This was a trusting neighbourhood. Everyone was at least upper middle class. They owned big homes with fancy gates and several acres of land. The only crime out here was cocaine and spousal abuse, and those things don’t bring the cops around if you’re rich. And white.
He looked towards the house. All the lights were off. Good. In fact, the only light he could see anywhere was from the neighbours’ porch. Matt and Olivia’s house. They’ve lived there for about twenty years. He was a dentist and she was an architect. They were probably watching TV in the living room right now. They’d never notice him. They weren't the type to consider themselves with the activities of their neighbours.
He walked closer to the house. Even thought he was pretty sure no one was home, he was still cautious.
Slowly he approached, until he was right beside the house. He peered in through the window. Nothing but darkness. There’s no way they were all asleep at this hour. That means they must not be home. Excellent.
The kitchen window never locked properly. He would use it to enter. Hopefully they hadn’t fixed it. He walked around to the other side of the house and pushed up on it. It slid up effortlessly. Within seconds he was inside.
Most things looked the same. The coffee maker had moved. They had it on the counter beside the sink. And it didn’t look like they had a blender. At least it wasn’t on any counter. Maybe it was in the pantry. He glanced in the living room and saw that the TV was in the same spot. That made him feel a bit better. That was a good spot for it.
He slowly walked through the home, still slightly worried that someone was there. Suddenly he stopped. Did they change the backsplash? He turned and walked back into the kitchen to double check. They had. It used to be white subway tile. He quite liked it. Now it was black and white squares, which he didn’t care for as much.
He still remembered the shopping trip he took with Kelly to buy those subway tiles. The man in the hardware store was surprisingly helpful and had told them everything they needed to do to put up the tiles themselves. It had taken much longer than they’d expected it to, but they both liked the final look when it was done. And now these people had changed it. This new family. Whoever they were.
The only times he'd seen them were from the street. Once he watched the man take the garbage to the curb. Another time he'd seen the woman planting some flowers in the garden.
He didn’t know them, but he hated them. Look at them up there on that picture hanging from the wall. They look so fucking smug. The man has his arm around his wife. They’re both smiling. Someone who must be their daughter is standing in front of them. She looks to be about eight years old. He didn't know they had a daughter. She looked like an awkward child. What was she wearing there anyway? And they have a dog too. Of course they do. Its name is probably something boring like “Fido” or “Buster.”
Is this really why he’d come here? To angrily criticize some family that was just trying to live their lives? No. But then why had he come here? He didn’t truly know. But something that drawn him to this place once more. Something told him that, for the first time in years, he had to come inside. Watching from the road was no longer enough. He felt like he needed to be in here again. But why?
Him and Kelly had officially sold this house about a year ago, but Rick Majors had moved out almost a year before that. Kelly left before him. She moved in with her sister for a while before finding her own place out of town. This wasn’t their home anymore. It hadn’t been for a while. In fact, even when they still lived here, they weren’t really living together. When he wasn’t on the road, the two of them were barely speaking. They hadn’t had a real marriage for at least five years.
He was even romanticizing that backsplash story. Yes, they’d gone to the hardware store together, but they screamed at each other all the way home in the car. And then they had another shouting match while they were putting the tiles up. He didn’t even remember why. After a while, all of the fights just blurred together.
So, then what was he doing here?
He didn’t like this new carpet that they’d put down in the living room. God, this family has no taste. Their stupid dog has probably shit all over it too. Maybe that’s why they picked such an ugly colour, so that they wouldn’t care when Fido took a dump in the middle of it.
He looked into the dining room. He thought about them all sitting there as a family, talking about their day and laughing and passing the green beans. Deep down, that’s what he wanted. That’s why he was angry. It wasn’t the backsplash or the carpet or the fact that they didn’t seem to own a blender. In his heart, he knew it.
“Why are you doing this?” he thought to himself. “This isn’t who you are anymore. This is Rick Majors’ life. This is Rick Majors’ house. These are Rick Majors’ dreams. You have your dream life. You have been saved.”
Suddenly, he was back in reality. Reality wasn’t longing for something that was never going to be. It was recognizing the beautiful situation that he was now a part of. He had been saved. He had been given a fresh start at life.
None of this mattered. This was a family living in a home that was once occupied by another man. He shouldn’t give it any additional thought. And yet he was drawn to this home. Something told him that he should be here. Satan. Seromine, the Lord, had saved him and now Satan was trying to lure him back into a world of sin. He couldn’t allow it to happen. He needed to leave this place.
But that wasn’t enough. Whatever it was that drove him here would likely bring him back. He wasn’t strong enough to dance with the devil again. He needed to put an end to this temptation now. He needed to make it so he couldn't return.
He anxiously searched through kitchen drawers until he found what he was looking for: a box of matches. He then scanned cabinets for a long while until he finally found some vodka. For once this wretched beverage would actually help him. He started pouring it all over that ugly brown carpet, until he’d soaked it completely.
This was necessary. Seromine was right. The past was dead. He needed to move on. He needed to cleanse his soul. He lit several matches, threw them on the carpet and ran.
The warm glow of the fire set him free.
Back in his apartment, he lit a candle. He needed to look forward to the future. The future was Seromine. The future was the Icemann Invitational Tournament. The future was the destruction of Non Compos Mentis.
“We have never faced one another, NCM,” he thought as he gazed into the beauty of the flame. “The battles you have had in the past with Rick Majors do not reflect the current reality. You have never faced Gabriel. And you will not live to talk about it.”
NCM could not be saved. There was no hope. Actually, perhaps Seromine, in his infinite wisdom, could do it. But it would not be worth the effort. Non Compos Mentis did not deserve saving. He was a treacherous, deceitful man who prides himself on how horrible he can be.
Some might look at the lives of Sean Rhodes and Rick Majors and see parallels. Both had relatively privileged childhoods. Both struggled with emotional issues that harmed their personal and professional lives. Both turned to violence to mask their pain. But the difference between the two is heart. While Sean Rhodes became Non Compos Mentis and dedicated his life to depravity, Rick Majors was reborn as Gabriel and has focused on sharing the Word of the Lord.
NCM’s history involves using innocent homeless individuals as props and cannon fodder. He may have pretended to care for them and they may have believed he respected them, but he was simply using these poor souls for his own personal gain. It was always about him. While he pretended to shun prestige to attract a following, in reality his was driven by a quest for gold. This insatiable greed poisoned his soul. It has made him cruel.
People are not your possessions, NCM. And no matter how many championship belts you have worn around your waist or carried on your shoulder, you cannot replace your soul. You are an empty vessel that is consumed by hatred. You may believe that you are the injured person you are today because of your past, but I am proof that no man’s past controls him. I have put my demons behind me. I have embraced the Word of the Lord. I have cleansed myself of sin and corruption.
Hatred does not win over love. The Devil cannot beat the Lord. And you will not win the Icemann Invitational Tournament. This tournament will continue to be a showcase for greatness of Seromine, our Lord and Saviour. Unfortunately, Sacramentum was given the opportunity to embrace Seromine and his message of love, and he chose to live in ignorance instead. For that he had to pay the price. And so will you.
Praise Seromine.
Praise the Lord.
Getting through the fence was easy. He knew it would be. It was just a simple wood fence and it wasn’t even six feet high. This was a trusting neighbourhood. Everyone was at least upper middle class. They owned big homes with fancy gates and several acres of land. The only crime out here was cocaine and spousal abuse, and those things don’t bring the cops around if you’re rich. And white.
He looked towards the house. All the lights were off. Good. In fact, the only light he could see anywhere was from the neighbours’ porch. Matt and Olivia’s house. They’ve lived there for about twenty years. He was a dentist and she was an architect. They were probably watching TV in the living room right now. They’d never notice him. They weren't the type to consider themselves with the activities of their neighbours.
He walked closer to the house. Even thought he was pretty sure no one was home, he was still cautious.
Slowly he approached, until he was right beside the house. He peered in through the window. Nothing but darkness. There’s no way they were all asleep at this hour. That means they must not be home. Excellent.
The kitchen window never locked properly. He would use it to enter. Hopefully they hadn’t fixed it. He walked around to the other side of the house and pushed up on it. It slid up effortlessly. Within seconds he was inside.
Most things looked the same. The coffee maker had moved. They had it on the counter beside the sink. And it didn’t look like they had a blender. At least it wasn’t on any counter. Maybe it was in the pantry. He glanced in the living room and saw that the TV was in the same spot. That made him feel a bit better. That was a good spot for it.
He slowly walked through the home, still slightly worried that someone was there. Suddenly he stopped. Did they change the backsplash? He turned and walked back into the kitchen to double check. They had. It used to be white subway tile. He quite liked it. Now it was black and white squares, which he didn’t care for as much.
He still remembered the shopping trip he took with Kelly to buy those subway tiles. The man in the hardware store was surprisingly helpful and had told them everything they needed to do to put up the tiles themselves. It had taken much longer than they’d expected it to, but they both liked the final look when it was done. And now these people had changed it. This new family. Whoever they were.
The only times he'd seen them were from the street. Once he watched the man take the garbage to the curb. Another time he'd seen the woman planting some flowers in the garden.
He didn’t know them, but he hated them. Look at them up there on that picture hanging from the wall. They look so fucking smug. The man has his arm around his wife. They’re both smiling. Someone who must be their daughter is standing in front of them. She looks to be about eight years old. He didn't know they had a daughter. She looked like an awkward child. What was she wearing there anyway? And they have a dog too. Of course they do. Its name is probably something boring like “Fido” or “Buster.”
Is this really why he’d come here? To angrily criticize some family that was just trying to live their lives? No. But then why had he come here? He didn’t truly know. But something that drawn him to this place once more. Something told him that, for the first time in years, he had to come inside. Watching from the road was no longer enough. He felt like he needed to be in here again. But why?
Him and Kelly had officially sold this house about a year ago, but Rick Majors had moved out almost a year before that. Kelly left before him. She moved in with her sister for a while before finding her own place out of town. This wasn’t their home anymore. It hadn’t been for a while. In fact, even when they still lived here, they weren’t really living together. When he wasn’t on the road, the two of them were barely speaking. They hadn’t had a real marriage for at least five years.
He was even romanticizing that backsplash story. Yes, they’d gone to the hardware store together, but they screamed at each other all the way home in the car. And then they had another shouting match while they were putting the tiles up. He didn’t even remember why. After a while, all of the fights just blurred together.
So, then what was he doing here?
He didn’t like this new carpet that they’d put down in the living room. God, this family has no taste. Their stupid dog has probably shit all over it too. Maybe that’s why they picked such an ugly colour, so that they wouldn’t care when Fido took a dump in the middle of it.
He looked into the dining room. He thought about them all sitting there as a family, talking about their day and laughing and passing the green beans. Deep down, that’s what he wanted. That’s why he was angry. It wasn’t the backsplash or the carpet or the fact that they didn’t seem to own a blender. In his heart, he knew it.
“Why are you doing this?” he thought to himself. “This isn’t who you are anymore. This is Rick Majors’ life. This is Rick Majors’ house. These are Rick Majors’ dreams. You have your dream life. You have been saved.”
Suddenly, he was back in reality. Reality wasn’t longing for something that was never going to be. It was recognizing the beautiful situation that he was now a part of. He had been saved. He had been given a fresh start at life.
None of this mattered. This was a family living in a home that was once occupied by another man. He shouldn’t give it any additional thought. And yet he was drawn to this home. Something told him that he should be here. Satan. Seromine, the Lord, had saved him and now Satan was trying to lure him back into a world of sin. He couldn’t allow it to happen. He needed to leave this place.
But that wasn’t enough. Whatever it was that drove him here would likely bring him back. He wasn’t strong enough to dance with the devil again. He needed to put an end to this temptation now. He needed to make it so he couldn't return.
He anxiously searched through kitchen drawers until he found what he was looking for: a box of matches. He then scanned cabinets for a long while until he finally found some vodka. For once this wretched beverage would actually help him. He started pouring it all over that ugly brown carpet, until he’d soaked it completely.
This was necessary. Seromine was right. The past was dead. He needed to move on. He needed to cleanse his soul. He lit several matches, threw them on the carpet and ran.
The warm glow of the fire set him free.
Back in his apartment, he lit a candle. He needed to look forward to the future. The future was Seromine. The future was the Icemann Invitational Tournament. The future was the destruction of Non Compos Mentis.
“We have never faced one another, NCM,” he thought as he gazed into the beauty of the flame. “The battles you have had in the past with Rick Majors do not reflect the current reality. You have never faced Gabriel. And you will not live to talk about it.”
NCM could not be saved. There was no hope. Actually, perhaps Seromine, in his infinite wisdom, could do it. But it would not be worth the effort. Non Compos Mentis did not deserve saving. He was a treacherous, deceitful man who prides himself on how horrible he can be.
Some might look at the lives of Sean Rhodes and Rick Majors and see parallels. Both had relatively privileged childhoods. Both struggled with emotional issues that harmed their personal and professional lives. Both turned to violence to mask their pain. But the difference between the two is heart. While Sean Rhodes became Non Compos Mentis and dedicated his life to depravity, Rick Majors was reborn as Gabriel and has focused on sharing the Word of the Lord.
NCM’s history involves using innocent homeless individuals as props and cannon fodder. He may have pretended to care for them and they may have believed he respected them, but he was simply using these poor souls for his own personal gain. It was always about him. While he pretended to shun prestige to attract a following, in reality his was driven by a quest for gold. This insatiable greed poisoned his soul. It has made him cruel.
Then he said to them, “Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; life does not consist in an abundance of possessions.” - Luke 12:15
People are not your possessions, NCM. And no matter how many championship belts you have worn around your waist or carried on your shoulder, you cannot replace your soul. You are an empty vessel that is consumed by hatred. You may believe that you are the injured person you are today because of your past, but I am proof that no man’s past controls him. I have put my demons behind me. I have embraced the Word of the Lord. I have cleansed myself of sin and corruption.
Hatred does not win over love. The Devil cannot beat the Lord. And you will not win the Icemann Invitational Tournament. This tournament will continue to be a showcase for greatness of Seromine, our Lord and Saviour. Unfortunately, Sacramentum was given the opportunity to embrace Seromine and his message of love, and he chose to live in ignorance instead. For that he had to pay the price. And so will you.
Praise Seromine.
Praise the Lord.
