I always feel like, somebody's watching me....
Jul 28, 2020 22:58:13 GMT -5
The Anarchist, Kyle Shane, and 1 more like this
Post by Gerard Angelo on Jul 28, 2020 22:58:13 GMT -5
Kara sat on the couch of her darkened apartment, the only light coming from her iPad as she absentmindedly scrolled through Twitter. From the guest room, where her parents had gone to bed, she heard the loud snores coming from her father. She gave a soft smile as she listened, her lips illuminated by the soft blue light of her tablet. Kara often wondered how her mom was able to get any sleep laying next to the noise maker all night. I guess that was what true love is, accepting someone for not just for their strong points, but for their flaws as well, she thought to herself. Her mind drifted towards thoughts of Theo. She sighed and wondered (not for the first time) why he hadn't reached out to her through this. It had been months, and his phone had been turned off. It wasn’t like him to just drop off the face of the earth. Kara’s dad had mentioned a few times in passing that perhaps Theo had met another woman and ran off with her. Her lips curled into a frown. Could he have really done that? Left her without so much as a text explaining himself?
She didn’t want to believe it, but it seemed to be the only logical explanation. She thought of Gerard and her lips turned back into a smile. He had been there for her through this whole ordeal, not expecting anything in return. Kara knew he loved her, and she loved him. But she didn’t know if she was still in love with him. Everything was complicated between them, and she still was in an odd place after her fiance’s disappearance.
Kara went back to scrolls through social media on her iPad, looking at various memes and GIFs. Her mood suddenly shifted as a feeling of dread washed over her. She looked around her darkened apartment, not seeing anything. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched.
Kara turned her head suddenly, thinking she saw something moving out of the corner of her eye. She froze as her breathing became shallower, her muscles coiling in preparation. Kara slowly extended a hand towards the end table on the side of her couch, keeping her eyes focused on where she saw the movement. Her slender fingers reached out blinding, searching for the pull chain. Kara’s fingertips bump into the chain making it swing away from her before she gives a slight lunge. Her pointer and middle fingers grip the chain, giving it a tug. Light from the lamp suddenly fills the room, driving away the darkness, revealing that nothing is there.
Kara gives a slight sigh of relief, silently scolding herself for being so paranoid. Maybe I’ll just keep the light on for a bit, she thinks to herself. Kara is content to go back to her tablet when suddenly she hears the thuds of heavy footsteps behind her. Kara turns slowly, peering over the back of the couch. The loud footsteps seemed to be coming from the darkened kitchen.
Kara turned back around, hugging the tablet to her chest. She took a deep breath and stood up.
“I will not live in fear.” She says under her breath as she gripped the iPad in both hands, brandishing it like a steel chair. Kara carefully, slowly, crept towards the kitchen on the balls of her feet, careful not to make a sound. Pressing her back against the wall, she reached around and flick on the light before leaping into the kitchen, landing on the tile with the tablet raised above her head. She looks around, finding nothing.
Kara gives and sigh, running a hand over her face, thinking perhaps her ordeal had taken a bigger toll on her then she thought. She turns around to go back into the living room, but lets out a blood curdling scream as she comes face to face with a monster. She falls backwards, landing hard on her bottom, the iPad sliding across the floor as the thing stares at her with an open, leathery maw. Rows upon rows of fangs jut out as the vile thing takes a step closer to her. She shuts her eyes and lets out another scream.
“Kara!” She hears her father’s booming voice as he rushes into the kitchen, getting down on his knees to cradle his daughter in his massive arms. She opens her eyes to see her mother hurry into the kitchen, the beast from just before nowhere to be found. Her blue eyes well up with tears and she presses her face into Frank’s chest, wondering what just happened.
From outside a single, snow white, owl watches through the window, cocking her head before she suddenly takes off.
==========
I sat cross legged outside on a mat laid upon the stone patio that led to my pool, the bright moonlight causing the night to be illuminated quite well. Not that it mattered, though. I had my eyes closed, trying to meditate and clear my mind.
Quite hard to do when one had a match against the Reaper of PCW.
Yes, this upcoming Trauma I was once again facing Grimm. Management, in their infinite wisdom, has decided to give the rematch to the twenty-twenty Icemann Invitational Tournament away for free on live television. But I guess this was my punishment for making a big stink about the Razor match at Return to Glory. I guess they wanted to end the movement before it got any more traction. Send the boogieman after me, hoping he destroys one of my knees again.
A cool breeze cut through the warm air, causing goosebumps on my bare chest. I kept my eyes shut, trying to clear my mind.
Grimm and I were about as polar opposite as two people could be. Phineas was from rural Kentucky. Deep rural. The village was called Hangtown for fucks sake. In two-thousand and twenty no less! I was from Los Angeles. Grimm’s base wrestling style was a hodgepodge of brawling and throws, while mine was textbook. Even our appearances with his shock of red hair and fiery beard against my movie-star good looks.
But most of all, Grimm represented the status quo of PCW. He represented the old, backwards, ideals of the company. Where they worried more about feeding the star power of the wrestlers of yesteryear then trying to spread the wealth.
One could argue that the opportunities given to the new faces around here weren’t seized upon, and that would be right. But those were few and far between.
I heard an owl hoot from a tree and opened one eye, staring at a white owl that was looking back at me. I shut my eye and tried to focus, but not before making a mental note to do something about these damn birds. Owl was probably going to try to shit on my Jaguar.
This week I had a chance to prove that what I preached wasn’t just me blowing hot air. I had a chance to beat Grimm in the middle of the ring once and for all. A chance to prove I was better without Grimm having any excuses to fall back on. This was the time to do it. When was the last time the almighty Crimson Demon was coming off a shock loss on a Pay-Per-View? It was time to catch the Hangtown Horror while he was reeling and put him out to pasture. Prove that he no longer belongs in this new vision of PCW. Where the gatekeepers like him wouldn’t keep anyone down just to feed his own ego. If I was to create a new and brighter future, I needed to defeat the poster boy for the old guard once, and for all.
The owl hoots again, and I open both eyes to glare daggers at it. Why did that owl seem vaguely familiar. Suddenly it hit me.
“Amanda, is that you?”
She didn’t want to believe it, but it seemed to be the only logical explanation. She thought of Gerard and her lips turned back into a smile. He had been there for her through this whole ordeal, not expecting anything in return. Kara knew he loved her, and she loved him. But she didn’t know if she was still in love with him. Everything was complicated between them, and she still was in an odd place after her fiance’s disappearance.
Kara went back to scrolls through social media on her iPad, looking at various memes and GIFs. Her mood suddenly shifted as a feeling of dread washed over her. She looked around her darkened apartment, not seeing anything. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched.
Kara turned her head suddenly, thinking she saw something moving out of the corner of her eye. She froze as her breathing became shallower, her muscles coiling in preparation. Kara slowly extended a hand towards the end table on the side of her couch, keeping her eyes focused on where she saw the movement. Her slender fingers reached out blinding, searching for the pull chain. Kara’s fingertips bump into the chain making it swing away from her before she gives a slight lunge. Her pointer and middle fingers grip the chain, giving it a tug. Light from the lamp suddenly fills the room, driving away the darkness, revealing that nothing is there.
Kara gives a slight sigh of relief, silently scolding herself for being so paranoid. Maybe I’ll just keep the light on for a bit, she thinks to herself. Kara is content to go back to her tablet when suddenly she hears the thuds of heavy footsteps behind her. Kara turns slowly, peering over the back of the couch. The loud footsteps seemed to be coming from the darkened kitchen.
Kara turned back around, hugging the tablet to her chest. She took a deep breath and stood up.
“I will not live in fear.” She says under her breath as she gripped the iPad in both hands, brandishing it like a steel chair. Kara carefully, slowly, crept towards the kitchen on the balls of her feet, careful not to make a sound. Pressing her back against the wall, she reached around and flick on the light before leaping into the kitchen, landing on the tile with the tablet raised above her head. She looks around, finding nothing.
Kara gives and sigh, running a hand over her face, thinking perhaps her ordeal had taken a bigger toll on her then she thought. She turns around to go back into the living room, but lets out a blood curdling scream as she comes face to face with a monster. She falls backwards, landing hard on her bottom, the iPad sliding across the floor as the thing stares at her with an open, leathery maw. Rows upon rows of fangs jut out as the vile thing takes a step closer to her. She shuts her eyes and lets out another scream.
“Kara!” She hears her father’s booming voice as he rushes into the kitchen, getting down on his knees to cradle his daughter in his massive arms. She opens her eyes to see her mother hurry into the kitchen, the beast from just before nowhere to be found. Her blue eyes well up with tears and she presses her face into Frank’s chest, wondering what just happened.
From outside a single, snow white, owl watches through the window, cocking her head before she suddenly takes off.
==========
I sat cross legged outside on a mat laid upon the stone patio that led to my pool, the bright moonlight causing the night to be illuminated quite well. Not that it mattered, though. I had my eyes closed, trying to meditate and clear my mind.
Quite hard to do when one had a match against the Reaper of PCW.
Yes, this upcoming Trauma I was once again facing Grimm. Management, in their infinite wisdom, has decided to give the rematch to the twenty-twenty Icemann Invitational Tournament away for free on live television. But I guess this was my punishment for making a big stink about the Razor match at Return to Glory. I guess they wanted to end the movement before it got any more traction. Send the boogieman after me, hoping he destroys one of my knees again.
A cool breeze cut through the warm air, causing goosebumps on my bare chest. I kept my eyes shut, trying to clear my mind.
Grimm and I were about as polar opposite as two people could be. Phineas was from rural Kentucky. Deep rural. The village was called Hangtown for fucks sake. In two-thousand and twenty no less! I was from Los Angeles. Grimm’s base wrestling style was a hodgepodge of brawling and throws, while mine was textbook. Even our appearances with his shock of red hair and fiery beard against my movie-star good looks.
But most of all, Grimm represented the status quo of PCW. He represented the old, backwards, ideals of the company. Where they worried more about feeding the star power of the wrestlers of yesteryear then trying to spread the wealth.
One could argue that the opportunities given to the new faces around here weren’t seized upon, and that would be right. But those were few and far between.
I heard an owl hoot from a tree and opened one eye, staring at a white owl that was looking back at me. I shut my eye and tried to focus, but not before making a mental note to do something about these damn birds. Owl was probably going to try to shit on my Jaguar.
This week I had a chance to prove that what I preached wasn’t just me blowing hot air. I had a chance to beat Grimm in the middle of the ring once and for all. A chance to prove I was better without Grimm having any excuses to fall back on. This was the time to do it. When was the last time the almighty Crimson Demon was coming off a shock loss on a Pay-Per-View? It was time to catch the Hangtown Horror while he was reeling and put him out to pasture. Prove that he no longer belongs in this new vision of PCW. Where the gatekeepers like him wouldn’t keep anyone down just to feed his own ego. If I was to create a new and brighter future, I needed to defeat the poster boy for the old guard once, and for all.
The owl hoots again, and I open both eyes to glare daggers at it. Why did that owl seem vaguely familiar. Suddenly it hit me.
“Amanda, is that you?”