California Dreaming (and Reeling)
Aug 19, 2015 1:58:06 GMT -5
Nathan Saniti, Alexa Black, and 1 more like this
Post by The Anarchist on Aug 19, 2015 1:58:06 GMT -5
Darkness there and nothing more.
That's the only thing I could think of, as I stood outside a vacant Disneyland. The once welcoming theme park for families from all walks of life, had now been reduced to a rotting, decayed skeletal shell of it's prestigious self. It had looked barren for quite some time. The wide parking lot that would be filled with tourists vehicles, was now fragmented and in dire need of repair.
The neighboring California Adventure was gated and filled with overgrowth snarling it's protruding attractions. I never visited it myself, so it's appearance was of little concern to me. Except for the sign that read PROPERTY OF HAVOC INC. But the main attraction was a whole different matter. I no longer could recognize the park. High above my head were clouds of orange and black. It's foreboding colors setting the backdrop for lanterns that were placed along the turn stop.
Looking up at what once read MAIN STREET USA, it now read MASTER. The letters of course were removed and rearranged to spell that, but I got the hint. Slowly inside I went, no longer greeted by the tram, which ran the rails above. Nor the train that went around the entire park. Even the garden with Mickey Mouse's head in the center had been tampered with.
His eyes were no longer part of the features.
Looking down the street where the electrical parade would entertain the masses, the former picturesque foundations that were designed in early 1900's architecture, now sat in various states of destruction. Torches stood guard outside each. Broken glass littered below boarded up windows. Black hand prints stained discolored walls. Wait. Black hand prints?
THE BLACK HAND did this?! What the...
Not in my city. Not in my state.
Not in MY city! Not in MY state!
This was Anaheim, California. My place of birth, a city I was damn proud to call home and raise a family in. This wasn't Kentucky. This wasn't a place for The Black Hand. So how the fuck did this happen? Better yet, WHEN did this happen? Even better, where in the hell was I when it did?
"You can run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Sooner or later God'll cut you down
Sooner or later God'll cut you down"
My focus shifted immediately, looking for the source of the intruding racket. The Sleeping Beauty castle located in the far distance at the streets end, had fire now spewing from its spires. The exterior to the naked eye was dark in color. Like it had been remodeled as headquarters for The Hand.
That would have to wait. I was about to have company.
You know the people that dress up as the characters? Yeah. Well about to surround me, were Goofy, Tweedle Dee and Dum and Roger Rabbit. Roger motherfucking Rabbit wasn't even A Disney character, yet was part of this place over in Toon Town.
The costumes themselves were dirty, ripped and belonged in the nearest landfill.
They weren't coming to give me a hug and take a photo. They were coming to claim my soul and rid my presence from their place of worship. Four-on-one? It didn't matter to me. Like Kevin McCallister said in Home Alone, "This is my house. I have to defend it."
Which is exactly what I did. It was so embarrassingly easy. Whoever was under the cartoonish disguise were sent as decoys. I almost expected suds to leak out, from the amount of brainwashing needed to be in the group I couldn't be bothered to rip off the heads of all four. I wanted to find The Black Hand and send them on a first class trip with my boot to Never Ever Come Back Land. Just as I thought that, a bolt of lightning struck the tip of the Matterhorn ride, electric sparks surged like fireworks off of it.
"I had better be careful" I thought to myself, trying to keep my composure. I couldn't go rogue hero here. I knew the layout of the park...but not looking like this. It WAS the same park, but all of the attractions, gift shops and general happiness, no longer existed in cheery form. I could just imagine a more mechanical "It's A Small World" playing. The voices grinding as if the life was draining from its presentation.
"Well you may throw your rock and hide your hand
Workin' in the dark against your fellow man
But as sure as God made black and white
What's done in the dark will be brought to the light"
More taunting words from The Hand's entrance music, albeit much further into the song. It was only the lyrics though, but in a much more sadistic sounding way. Then the song abruptly stopped, leaving the abandoned theme park eerily silent. I was feeling a fire raging from within, ready to come out and scorch every single member of The Black Hand. Before I could take one more foot forward to make my way further inside to locations such as New Orleans Square or Space Mountain over in Tomorrowland, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Spinning around immediately from my right, my fist swung like a Muhammad Ali punch...
Only to connect with the head of yet another drone being used in disguise. This one was Mickey Mouse himself. The eyes had been scratched out. Blood stained his famous ears. Patches of the body were replaced by stitches. And the lantern he had been carrying was now a shattered mess with the inner flame flickering out. Highly above in the skies, thunder rumbled. The head had come off. The rage I had felt was now a paralyzing fear.
Oh my...fucking...god...
It wasn't Snow White.
It wasn't Cinderella.
It wasn't Princess Aurora.
It was Destiny. And she wasn't moving. Were my children under the previous disguises somehow??? I never got the chance to see if she was ok. Before I knew it, a "signature" shovel flew into my line of sight and met my face with a sickening collision. I crumbled onto the cold, damp street. My hand landing on top of the large, white glove my wife had on. My eyes were barely open, but I could hear what sounded like:
"Bury them with the others, and burn this place to the ground. Let that be a message to everyone, that The Black Hand can't be stopped. ANYWHERE!"
Darkness there and nothing more.
NOOOOOOO!!!
I sat straight up out of bed. My heart was racing. My body was full of sweat and shaking from fear. My breathing was heavy as anxiety made itself present. A nightmare rattled my sleep, waking me from the dread I had been dreaming. Sunlight was emitting itself into my bedroom, almost as if it were a spotlight. I closed my eyes tight, trying to calm myself down. Destiny was fast to get into our room, rushing over to my side with plenty of concern.
"Babe! Babe! Are you okay?! What happened?!"
I was safe and warm now, although Anaheim isn’t in LA. It’s a good thing I didn’t dream about Showtime running for President.
”Trauma…” I eeked out under my breath “I’m going to beat the living hell out of them in a way that would need to be unsanctioned…”
Destiny pulled back, so that she was now eye level with me. I was still disturbed by what I had dreamt. I doubted The Black Hand would have ever gone to such lengths, but my subconscious was in chaos before I fell asleep.
”It’s time to help remove the cancer that plagues PCW. They may be on the same side of the ring I’ll be on…but they aren’t friends. They aren’t teammates. And they damn sure won’t be stopping the level of anarchy that I'll use to cripple Hangtown!”
She glanced at me with a confused look. Unsure of whom I was speaking of. She knew I had a match, but didn’t know a thing about The Black Hand. It wasn’t exactly a conversation starter, and prior to the upcoming eight-pers…handicap match, there was no need to speak of them. But now they had yet another enemy in a long collection of such.
”Don’t you dare do anything stupid!” Destiny spoke seriously. There was no lying to her. For as mentally unbalanced as I was, she could read me like a Stephen King book. Her eyes fixated in a search for the answer she expected. “You better promise me.”
I tried to turn my head away from her. I didn’t want to promise. I wanted to throw caution to the wind, bring back my former self and take Revelation straight to hell, hospital be damned! But there wasn’t any escape. Destiny kept my head in place so that I saw only her gaze, and wasn’t going to relent unless I uttered those two words. I sighed and closed my eyes for a brief moment. I could feel her right hand find its way under my chin. After she gently gave me a kiss and once more, asked that I promise, I relented.
”I promise…”
She smiled, “Good. I wor-“
”that I can’t be held responsible for what I do to them.”
Destiny’s eyes turned a dark shade of brown. Her expression, like that of Ronda Rousey, was one of complete death. She slapped the left side of my face with a sound that rattled our bedroom windows. I was glad our daughters weren’t home yet to hear it. My cheek was red, stinging and could possibly have a print of her fingers on it.
”Don’t worry about them outside of what you have to do to win. I’d be more concerned about what I’ll do to you, if you do something stupid before, during or after that match! And you KNOW what I mean, Jason.”
She yelled furiously. I glared at her, stuck between wanting to verbally take her head off and trying to find that inner voice which told me to make that promise. Pushing the strands of brunette hair out of her way, Destiny crouched down and for a second time looked into my eyes. Her head titled to the side, lips planting themselves on my smarting face. She whispered, “I’m sorry” into my ear with a remorseful tone. We had our moments like every couple, but few and far between these days. Age and parenthood has a way of maturing people. “Please, promise me you won’t do anything stupid out there…”
Common sense was winning here, folks. Destiny was right. I could no longer be that reckless competitor I was before. Not with our children and marriage to think of first. I had to be smart about how to win this fight, this WAR. Psychedelica were opponents in the match. Alexa Black and Crazy Boy weren’t my partners. And my best friend decided he didn’t want to participate for personal reasons. The names I could have found common ground with against The Black Hand, wouldn't be on my side at Trauma.
I would truly be the hostile loner I had spoken of.
”I promise.”
Destiny exhaled and smiled, kissing me slowly as her head moved back around. Pulling away, she gave one of the tightest hugs she ever had before. “I love you. I always have and I always will. Come on. The girls should be home soon.”
Time was running down. Soon I would leave for South Carolina.
Ready to go to war.
That's the only thing I could think of, as I stood outside a vacant Disneyland. The once welcoming theme park for families from all walks of life, had now been reduced to a rotting, decayed skeletal shell of it's prestigious self. It had looked barren for quite some time. The wide parking lot that would be filled with tourists vehicles, was now fragmented and in dire need of repair.
The neighboring California Adventure was gated and filled with overgrowth snarling it's protruding attractions. I never visited it myself, so it's appearance was of little concern to me. Except for the sign that read PROPERTY OF HAVOC INC. But the main attraction was a whole different matter. I no longer could recognize the park. High above my head were clouds of orange and black. It's foreboding colors setting the backdrop for lanterns that were placed along the turn stop.
Looking up at what once read MAIN STREET USA, it now read MASTER. The letters of course were removed and rearranged to spell that, but I got the hint. Slowly inside I went, no longer greeted by the tram, which ran the rails above. Nor the train that went around the entire park. Even the garden with Mickey Mouse's head in the center had been tampered with.
His eyes were no longer part of the features.
Looking down the street where the electrical parade would entertain the masses, the former picturesque foundations that were designed in early 1900's architecture, now sat in various states of destruction. Torches stood guard outside each. Broken glass littered below boarded up windows. Black hand prints stained discolored walls. Wait. Black hand prints?
THE BLACK HAND did this?! What the...
Not in my city. Not in my state.
Not in MY city! Not in MY state!
This was Anaheim, California. My place of birth, a city I was damn proud to call home and raise a family in. This wasn't Kentucky. This wasn't a place for The Black Hand. So how the fuck did this happen? Better yet, WHEN did this happen? Even better, where in the hell was I when it did?
"You can run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Sooner or later God'll cut you down
Sooner or later God'll cut you down"
My focus shifted immediately, looking for the source of the intruding racket. The Sleeping Beauty castle located in the far distance at the streets end, had fire now spewing from its spires. The exterior to the naked eye was dark in color. Like it had been remodeled as headquarters for The Hand.
That would have to wait. I was about to have company.
You know the people that dress up as the characters? Yeah. Well about to surround me, were Goofy, Tweedle Dee and Dum and Roger Rabbit. Roger motherfucking Rabbit wasn't even A Disney character, yet was part of this place over in Toon Town.
The costumes themselves were dirty, ripped and belonged in the nearest landfill.
They weren't coming to give me a hug and take a photo. They were coming to claim my soul and rid my presence from their place of worship. Four-on-one? It didn't matter to me. Like Kevin McCallister said in Home Alone, "This is my house. I have to defend it."
Which is exactly what I did. It was so embarrassingly easy. Whoever was under the cartoonish disguise were sent as decoys. I almost expected suds to leak out, from the amount of brainwashing needed to be in the group I couldn't be bothered to rip off the heads of all four. I wanted to find The Black Hand and send them on a first class trip with my boot to Never Ever Come Back Land. Just as I thought that, a bolt of lightning struck the tip of the Matterhorn ride, electric sparks surged like fireworks off of it.
"I had better be careful" I thought to myself, trying to keep my composure. I couldn't go rogue hero here. I knew the layout of the park...but not looking like this. It WAS the same park, but all of the attractions, gift shops and general happiness, no longer existed in cheery form. I could just imagine a more mechanical "It's A Small World" playing. The voices grinding as if the life was draining from its presentation.
"Well you may throw your rock and hide your hand
Workin' in the dark against your fellow man
But as sure as God made black and white
What's done in the dark will be brought to the light"
More taunting words from The Hand's entrance music, albeit much further into the song. It was only the lyrics though, but in a much more sadistic sounding way. Then the song abruptly stopped, leaving the abandoned theme park eerily silent. I was feeling a fire raging from within, ready to come out and scorch every single member of The Black Hand. Before I could take one more foot forward to make my way further inside to locations such as New Orleans Square or Space Mountain over in Tomorrowland, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Spinning around immediately from my right, my fist swung like a Muhammad Ali punch...
Only to connect with the head of yet another drone being used in disguise. This one was Mickey Mouse himself. The eyes had been scratched out. Blood stained his famous ears. Patches of the body were replaced by stitches. And the lantern he had been carrying was now a shattered mess with the inner flame flickering out. Highly above in the skies, thunder rumbled. The head had come off. The rage I had felt was now a paralyzing fear.
Oh my...fucking...god...
It wasn't Snow White.
It wasn't Cinderella.
It wasn't Princess Aurora.
It was Destiny. And she wasn't moving. Were my children under the previous disguises somehow??? I never got the chance to see if she was ok. Before I knew it, a "signature" shovel flew into my line of sight and met my face with a sickening collision. I crumbled onto the cold, damp street. My hand landing on top of the large, white glove my wife had on. My eyes were barely open, but I could hear what sounded like:
"Bury them with the others, and burn this place to the ground. Let that be a message to everyone, that The Black Hand can't be stopped. ANYWHERE!"
Darkness there and nothing more.
NOOOOOOO!!!
I sat straight up out of bed. My heart was racing. My body was full of sweat and shaking from fear. My breathing was heavy as anxiety made itself present. A nightmare rattled my sleep, waking me from the dread I had been dreaming. Sunlight was emitting itself into my bedroom, almost as if it were a spotlight. I closed my eyes tight, trying to calm myself down. Destiny was fast to get into our room, rushing over to my side with plenty of concern.
"Babe! Babe! Are you okay?! What happened?!"
I was safe and warm now, although Anaheim isn’t in LA. It’s a good thing I didn’t dream about Showtime running for President.
”Trauma…” I eeked out under my breath “I’m going to beat the living hell out of them in a way that would need to be unsanctioned…”
Destiny pulled back, so that she was now eye level with me. I was still disturbed by what I had dreamt. I doubted The Black Hand would have ever gone to such lengths, but my subconscious was in chaos before I fell asleep.
”It’s time to help remove the cancer that plagues PCW. They may be on the same side of the ring I’ll be on…but they aren’t friends. They aren’t teammates. And they damn sure won’t be stopping the level of anarchy that I'll use to cripple Hangtown!”
She glanced at me with a confused look. Unsure of whom I was speaking of. She knew I had a match, but didn’t know a thing about The Black Hand. It wasn’t exactly a conversation starter, and prior to the upcoming eight-pers…handicap match, there was no need to speak of them. But now they had yet another enemy in a long collection of such.
”Don’t you dare do anything stupid!” Destiny spoke seriously. There was no lying to her. For as mentally unbalanced as I was, she could read me like a Stephen King book. Her eyes fixated in a search for the answer she expected. “You better promise me.”
I tried to turn my head away from her. I didn’t want to promise. I wanted to throw caution to the wind, bring back my former self and take Revelation straight to hell, hospital be damned! But there wasn’t any escape. Destiny kept my head in place so that I saw only her gaze, and wasn’t going to relent unless I uttered those two words. I sighed and closed my eyes for a brief moment. I could feel her right hand find its way under my chin. After she gently gave me a kiss and once more, asked that I promise, I relented.
”I promise…”
She smiled, “Good. I wor-“
”that I can’t be held responsible for what I do to them.”
Destiny’s eyes turned a dark shade of brown. Her expression, like that of Ronda Rousey, was one of complete death. She slapped the left side of my face with a sound that rattled our bedroom windows. I was glad our daughters weren’t home yet to hear it. My cheek was red, stinging and could possibly have a print of her fingers on it.
”Don’t worry about them outside of what you have to do to win. I’d be more concerned about what I’ll do to you, if you do something stupid before, during or after that match! And you KNOW what I mean, Jason.”
She yelled furiously. I glared at her, stuck between wanting to verbally take her head off and trying to find that inner voice which told me to make that promise. Pushing the strands of brunette hair out of her way, Destiny crouched down and for a second time looked into my eyes. Her head titled to the side, lips planting themselves on my smarting face. She whispered, “I’m sorry” into my ear with a remorseful tone. We had our moments like every couple, but few and far between these days. Age and parenthood has a way of maturing people. “Please, promise me you won’t do anything stupid out there…”
Common sense was winning here, folks. Destiny was right. I could no longer be that reckless competitor I was before. Not with our children and marriage to think of first. I had to be smart about how to win this fight, this WAR. Psychedelica were opponents in the match. Alexa Black and Crazy Boy weren’t my partners. And my best friend decided he didn’t want to participate for personal reasons. The names I could have found common ground with against The Black Hand, wouldn't be on my side at Trauma.
I would truly be the hostile loner I had spoken of.
”I promise.”
Destiny exhaled and smiled, kissing me slowly as her head moved back around. Pulling away, she gave one of the tightest hugs she ever had before. “I love you. I always have and I always will. Come on. The girls should be home soon.”
Time was running down. Soon I would leave for South Carolina.
Ready to go to war.