TAoMFatAiLB :: Ch. IV - Nothing to Me

[Stormm]

The Allure of Moving Forward and the Agony in Looking Back
Chapter IV
Nothing to Me

It continued to be abnormally mild in the Midwest, and on the second day of advent, the forecast low was not far off from the historical record high in the sunflower state. Justin Michaels stared out of the driver’s side of his overhauled, 1970 Chevelle SS, and his hazel eyes glimmered by the light of the full moon as it descended below the horizon.

The engine purred as he sat parked alongside of Highway 52, somewhere in the middle of north central Kansas, with the windows down. The Force of Nature had retired to his thoughts, as he tended to do, completely forgetting about the phone call he had been engaged in moments prior.

A subtle glow from his phone’s display reflected off the windshield from the dash where he’d tossed it moments earlier, before pulling to the side of the road in frustration.

“Mr. Michaels, are you still there?” The other half of the conversation called out. “What are we doing to him next?”

It was hardly the time or the place.

“I already told you it was a one time thing, so be smart, and forget it ever happened!”

Justin had carefully picked an individual through weeks of searching and dozens of interviews, with the sole responsibility of carrying out a discreet, one time only task. There were vague promises of more legitimate work in the future, and not so idle threats if they attempted to blackmail him afterwards. It was apparent this individual was more ambitious than they let on initially.

With a tap of the finger, the conversation had ended, and the Force of Nature’s attention returned to the road as the moon had fully vanished from sight. No more than a stone’s throw ahead was the only indication of just where he found himself in those early morning hours; and his headlights were reflecting off of the unmistakable green and white of a traffic sign.

Kansa

COUNTY LINE

Careful, you might find what you are looking for.

That voice sent shivers up and down his spine.

“His” voice.

Justin looked toward the empty passenger seat as if he expected Damian to be sitting there. No matter how many times he played that man’s death over in his head, he still couldn’t escape the feeling that he was being watched.

By “him.”

With a lead foot, he hit the gas and shifted into first, kicking up gravel from the shoulder, and chirping the tires on the pavement as the Chevelle roared back down the highway. Perhaps Damian was part of the reason for his late night excursion. It had been years since he traveled down fifty-two, and only once, so what had brought him back to Kansa County?

For once, Justin was not looking for answers. He’d asked for help where he needed it, embraced his roles as husband and father, and accepted the fact that his life would never be as picturesque as he tried to make it be. So rather than wasting his time on tomorrows and yesterdays, he’d make the best of every today he had.

Today was the solution.

No, he was not looking for sometime to tell him the answers he already head. He was looking for the right questions to ask.

With every mile marker and speed limit sign, he reflected on the today he was living right then and there. The two hour drive from his Kansas City mansion to the edge of the Kansa County line, everything seemed clear to him. She would have the insight; indescribably terrifying insight.

How could he prevent “his” voice from feeding him wayward thoughts?

What would it take to become a better husband? A better father?

Why did he step inside of the squared circle week in and week out?

They were narrow questions, and just wouldn’t do.

However, the closer he got to the next town, the more he realized he was making a big mistake. 18 miles. 9 miles. Then, as his headlights reflected off of the next distance marker, he slammed on the breaks and shifted into neutral, screeching his tires, and leaving the evidence on the road for anyone who came along after him.

Silent Grove

2

Twin Lakes

17

Savanna

25

It was too soon.

Cranking the wheel to the left, Justin flipped a quick one-eighty and began to make his way back home. A part of him was still focusing on too many things at once, trying to fix his life all at once, and over compensating for years of heartache. Her help would be needed, but on a different day.

He needed to focus.

The first thing that came to his mind, other than his sudden fear of not making it home before the kids woke Lindsay up, was the one thing he initially set out to avoid thinking about. He and Lindsay had spent the last week promoting Collision Course with her brother, his Notorious cohort, and Johnny’s wife, Stace.

South Carolina, New York, Florida, California, Texas, Kansas, and everywhere in between it seemed. They had been everywhere, and done just about all they could do to sell out the Pure Class Arena and boost pay-per-view sales. They were no strangers to this kind of work, and they did it well. Average attendance was up since Deadly Intentions, and home viewers had skyrocketed since their return.

Watch Johnny drag ginger-beard all across the ring, this.

Watch Stormm win the North American title again, that.

He was burnt out on talking about it. Thinking about it. He was just ready to do it. But why?

“Why am I going to step inside of the squared circle against Gabriel on Sunday?” He asked himself. It was not an uncommon occurrence either, in fact, it happened more times than not while he was alone with his thoughts while on the road alone.

It’s in his contract. He’s getting paid to. Kyle Shane beat him at Trauma 221. It was the wrong question to ask himself. The answers were obvious, and did not at all embody exactly why he would climb through the ropes at Collision Course.

There was a better question, and he just hadn’t thought of it.

One thing he did know for certain was that nobody was giving the Force of Nature enough credit.

If Gabriel’s North American title was all that he thought Stormm was after, the glitz and the glam, the gold and the glory, he would be sorely disappointed when they stepped into the ring together that following Sunday.

Pure Class Wrestling had seen enough of Seromin, and Justin was going to keep doing everything he could to break the guise that Jason Willard continued to hide behind. Since he didn’t earn the right to do that directly, the next best thing would be to break his lackey, Gabriel. PCW had seen enough of him too, and would do well to get Rick Majors back.

The downfall of Gabriel would be the beginning of the end for the Cult of Seromine. If Stormm couldn’t get to the head of the beast, he’d have to start chopping off limbs in the meantime, starting with Rick Majors’ brainwashed self.

There weren’t going to be any words that could break him of Willard’s spell, it was going to take brute force to pry his eyes open again. As luck would have it, that’s exactly what the Force of Nature was going to get to do in a few days.

It wasn’t often that Justin faced off against someone older than him, since he’d been around a number of years himself, but Gabriel was one of few exceptions. Despite the slight size and strength advantage in his favor, it was more than likely going to be an even contest. But, Majors tried to specialize in a wrestling style that, frankly, he was green in, so that would be the open door Stormm needed to capitalize on that Sunday.

Justin is, has been, and may very well always be one of the best technical wrestlers to ever step foot in the Pure Class Wrestling ring. Squaring up against a man that tried to fight that way without the proper skill set to do so, could spell disaster for either one of them. The Force of Nature would do everything he could to ensure that disaster fell on Gabriel, and not himself.

“Why?” He queried. “Why?” The second time it was as if he was asking himself why he was even asking the question in the first place. He revved the engine up, playing around a little on the open road, as if to make the old girl talk back to him.

He smiled.

“Not why.” He realized as his smile dissipated. “But for what?” There was an unfamiliar feeling welling up inside of him. He’d always wrestled for the fans, or for himself. There was almost no crossover between the two.

“What is worth stepping inside the squared circle for?”

There was indeed more to stepping in the ring than leather straps and gold medallions. Justin didn’t always make that clear, as they were still a measure of one’s status in the wrestling world, and Stormm was as competitive as they come. But entertaining the fans and causing havoc for his opponents would always be the main reason he continued to wrestle.

“Your something means nothing to me!”

He could entertain the crowd by putting on five star matches, as he was capable of doing, and taking them on the wild ride of Notorious escapades. But he could also take for himself in the process, prove he’s still a force to be reckoned with in the world of professional wrestling, and try to claim whatever title he could from those that stood in his way. He wasn’t going to settle for just something.

“I want your everything!”

He was going to take it all.