Post by Lantlas on Apr 3, 2006 21:37:30 GMT -5
"We're live from the PCW arena tonight, and I can't tell you when I've seen a battle more intense. 'The Elven Warrior' Lantlas Anduril, looking to extend his undefeated streak to ten tonight against Showtime, and so far, it appears Lantlas can't even be touched."
"You're absolutely right on that call. Something about Lantlas is different. He's just been so relentless tonight, it's like he's not feeling anything at all."
"Wait a minute, someone's running down to ringside."
"What's going on?"
"The unidentified person is yelling something at Lantlas. Lantlas hits the Flame of the West on Showtime, and notices the person yelling something at him in the corner."
"Oh no, Lantlas's expression has just gone sour. This can't be good for Showtime."
"Wait, who's that coming out from the stage there?"
"That's Neovan, Lantlas's brother!"
"I thought he was dead!"
"So did I! What in the hell's going on?"
"He's got someone with him. Is that..."
"Devon Drake!"
"Neovan has Devon Drake tied up, and ohmygod, he's got a knife."
"Lantlas is running out of the ring. He doesn't get there in time! Neovan has just slit Devon's throat! Someone call the police!"
"Lantlas turns back around and looks at the ring. The ref has counted ten, and Lantlas has lost! Lantlas has lost!"
"Who in the hell could be so devious?"
I spring out of the bed I've made for myself, sweat pouring down my face. I look around, and realize Trauma hasn't occured yet. Neovan hasn't risen from the dead, Devon's still alive... I hope. Everything's as normal as it's ever going to get.
But wait, I'm smarter than that. Never does a dream run through my brain that doesn't mean something. Perhaps it could be the latest entry in Devon's journal I'd come across. For some reason though, I couldn't remember what it contained. I reached for the book I managed to swipe yet again, and paged to the most recent entry.
APRIL 2ND, 2006
I wake up from my nightmarish past and I’m alone in my room. I walk into the bathroom, put the cold water on and gather a handful splashing it on my face. The cold against my hot skin felt nice until I looked up into the mirror and saw someone that was not myself. I stumble backward seeing this dark grinning figure staring back at me.
"I was wondering when you’d let your guard down again, and it seems that with dear Lantlas finding out about your horrible, tragic past it’s trigged me to come back out and even out the playing grounds." Kieran said as sarcastically as she could. I could see her eyes, a dark color that I could only interpret as black and cold. Cold as ice. Cold as hell. I could feel the chills go throughout my entire body as I felt into the bathtub, luckily I didn’t hit my head off of anything.
I grabbed for my phone and dialed the number for Dr. Virgil. "C’mon doc, you gotta pick up this is bad."
"Oh yes! Just let me talk to the good doctor again!" Kieran said joyously as Dr. Virgil picked up.
"Hello? Devon is that you?" Virgil said as he picked the phone up. "What’s up kiddo?"
"Bad. Very bad. Is all I could say as I tried to suppress the demon within from emerging. She’s back."
There was silence between the doctor and myself as he got the information. "So, Kieran’s back," he said. "Let me speak with her."
"As you wish, my dear doctor Virgil. How have you been? It’s been quite a number of years hasn’t it? How many... maybe five years?" Kieran asked in a killer tone.
"I’m doing well as I see you are too," he said to her. "So what brings you out to play?"
"My brethen."
"Brethen?"
"He who they call Lantlas, my brethren. Don’t make me repeat myself, it could be hazardous to your health, good doctor."
Again, there was silence and all I could do was listen helplessly as this other side of me spoke to my doctor.
"I’ve heard of him, interesting fellow he is."
"Yes, yes he is." A pause. "He is the way I am, though without the record."
"Has any been added to your record thus far?"
"Not yet, but there will be additions. Good night doctor." And she hung up, looking into the mirror grinning before I was able to regain myself. I was shaking again and this time I went out grabbed my keys and headed to see Lantlas. On the way, I called him. Before I could say anything, I felt a cold piece of metal around my throat. "Say goodnight, human."
I stopped and shook my head. That couldn't be what I just read, was it?
On the way, I called him.
Nothing after that. What was going on with my mind? Why did I keep seeing Devon in perilous conditions?
"I see your paranoia has risen yet again."
Time for the Elven master to play Devil's advocate. Wonderful, just what I need at a time like this. "I suppose you've got some coded, subtle insight for me, so come on, let's hear it."
"Even paranoid within yourself, aren't you? Can't even stop by for a chat without you getting all uptight."
Why do I feel like I've had this conversation before? My Elven side reminds me so much of Joey Cranston sometimes. Can't ever really come out and say what you really mean, drives me nuts sometimes.
"I guess you have no interest in finding out why you keep having these paranoid delusions, so I'm just gonna go now, bye."
That was very unlike him. What the hell? I shrugged, and walked back towards my sofa, where next to it my wrestling gear lay. After the necessary preparations, I walk through that curtain to face the apathetic Mr. Showtime himself, who nonetheless may be looking to end my undefeated streak.
"We're live from the PCW arena tonight, and I can't tell you when I've seen a battle more intense. 'The Elven Warrior' Lantlas Anduril, looking to extend his undefeated streak to ten tonight against Showtime, and so far, it appears Lantlas can't even be touched."
"You're absolutely right on that call. Something about Lantlas is different. He's just been so relentless tonight, it's like he's not feeling anything at all."
"Wait a minute, someone's running down to ringside."
"What's going on?"
"The unidentified person is yelling something at Lantlas. Lantlas hits the Flame of the West on Showtime, and notices the person yelling something at him in the corner."
"Oh no, Lantlas's expression has just gone sour. This can't be good for Showtime."
"Wait, who's that coming out from the stage there?"
"That's... Lantlas?"
"It can't be Lantlas, he's in the ring!"
"How many seven-foot, blue-haired elves do you know?"
"He's got someone with him. Is that..."
"Devon Drake!"
"Lantlas number two has Devon Drake tied up, and ohmygod, he's got a knife."
"Lantlas is running out of the ring. He doesn't get there in time! The other Lantlas has just slit Devon's throat! Someone call the police!"
"Lantlas turns back around and looks at the ring. The ref has counted ten, and Lantlas has lost! Lantlas has lost!"
"Who in the hell could be so devious?"
...
I spring up from the bed I had made for myself, and I look at the clock. This can't be good, it's almost time for Trauma and I'm still slumbering with these nightmares I thought I'd gotten rid of.
"Ready, big guy?"
Devon's voice, ah that was such a relief. I turn and see my good friend walking in the door.
"I'm surprised you're not upset with me," I casually remark.
"Why would I be mad at you? I'm about to watch my best friend in the world stay undefeated?"
I shrug. As long as she's happy and focused, I'm certainly not going to bring it up. No reason getting everybody all emotional for nothing. I walk through the curtain, and I see the apathetic Mr. Showtime himself, who nonetheless may be looking to end my undefeated streak.
"We're live from the PCW arena tonight, and I can't tell you when I've seen a battle more intense. 'The Elven Warrior' Lantlas Anduril, looking to extend his undefeated streak to ten tonight against Showtime, and so far, it appears Lantlas can't even be touched."
"You're absolutely right on that call. Something about Lantlas is different. He's just been so relentless tonight, it's like he's not feeling anything at all."
"Wait a minute, someone's running down to ringside."
"What's going on?"
"It's Ace Anderson! Ace has come seeking his revenge on the one who interfered in his title match a few weeks ago!"
"Ace attacks from behind! Showtime might steal this one with the help of Ace Anderson!"
"Wait, who's that coming out from the stage there?"
"It's Devon Drake! Devon is coming to Lantlas's aid!"
"Ace clears the ring, as Devon slides in and flashes her fancy weaponry."
"She reaches over to help her good friend Lantlas, and... a kick to the face!"
"What the hell?"
"Devon Drake!"
"Devon has pulled a sword out of her jacket, and she's stabs it right through Lantlas's heart! Someone get help!"
"Who in the hell could be so devious?"
...
"Lantlas?"
I open my eyes, and see Devon Drake trying to wake me up. I pull myself up to a sitting position, still confused from what's been going on in my head.
"Devon," I ask as she turns and looks at me.
"Yes, Lantlas?"
"What happened a long time ago with the Underground Alliance... That would never happen again, would it?"
"Don't be a dumbass, Lantlas. What's got you so paranoid?"
Paranoid, that word keeps coming up. Something does have me paranoid. Something should have me paranoid, but for some reason, I can't seem to remember what it is. Then, all at once, it hits me...
...
Fate.