Post by jonnycorrigan on Mar 8, 2009 18:01:41 GMT -5
It was past midnight when I hobbled up to the bus stop on one leg. I know this because I remember looking at the clock on my cell phone and taking note of the time. And then I checked when the next bus was arriving on the little chart below the sign. Apparently I had just missed it, and the next one was to come in twenty minutes...
“Fuck...” I sighed as my shoulders drooped like tree sap on a downward slope. And then I turned back toward the street and assumed the uniform pose of your average bus commuter... standing there with a bored, somewhat upset look on my face as I anticipated the arrival of that which transports me. My eyes remained glued on the street and my mind wandered while the music pouring into my ears reflected to the back of my mind.
“We ran like vampires from a thousand burning sons...
But even then we should have stayed...
But we ran away...
Now all my friends are gone...”
And amidst it all... the silence that resided outside my ears and the chaos that resumed within... a smile grew on my face because all I could think of, and all I could see despite the light that invaded my eyes... was Blake Worship lying there on the floor, bleeding unbeknownst to his unconscious mind. And it wasn’t like I was surprised. It wasn’t like I couldn’t see it coming, like I couldn’t even see it happening... It’s just that months have gone by without Worship getting even a taste of what he deserved. Months of retribution being stuck in my throat and finally I got to see him hurt just a little bit more than I do. And seeing that was like exerting a scream from lungs that for so long had been empty and breathless. And so finally I could feel my heart beat again, I could feel my soul caressing me from the inside, and additionally the music I listened to finally made sense again.
“I brought down the sky for you but all you did was shrug...
You gave my emptiness a name...”
I felt like I had a purpose again. Like my life had meaning. And no I didn’t have them by my side anymore. Jayson Ray no longer stood there beside me with his World Heavyweight Championship and a pocketful of friendly advice. Tahti was no longer there to inspire me with the happiness painted on her face. And Dyce wasn’t there anymore to call me emo every day and encourage me not to be, to push myself forward when it seemed the best idea was to do nothing. No, they were all gone. But once DHS died I became alive once more... I grew past the insecurity I imagined without them, and I embraced myself as what I used to be... that shy, awkward kid who wouldn’t talk to you if you asked the time. And not because he hated you or wished death upon you, but because when you talked to him, his fingers clenched and his teeth grinded and his eyes squeezed shut and he didn’t know why... but what he did know was that he wanted to get away, wanted to be alone in his own thoughts. Wanted to just endure the day rather than live it, and wouldn’t mind dying at any moment because at least than he could curl into the firey corner of hell and find solace in his idle being.
Loner. That’s what I became once more. Free from the bond of an alliance, liberated to act upon each impulse that ignited in the pit of my stomach. And though I loved those people that I saw each and every day for months, even though it took bravery to look myself in the mirror without their presence close at hand, I always knew that the allegiance we vowed left a burden holding me down against the cold surface of the ground.
Because I grew up this way, alone and thinking and existing purely for my own needs and wants like some kind of wild animal, and that’s the way I’ve grown used to living. So now that I’m here again... it was like a drug couring through my veins... my heart beated faster... my lungs pumped air harder... my eyes grew wider... because I liked it. Somehow, I liked standing here knowing that any decision I made would be my own and not that of an informed, consulted view. I was my own kid again. And once again, I was the Leaf in the Wind...
“We’re all okay, until the day we’re not...
The surface shines, while the inside rots...”
“Why, hello there Corrigan,” and then I heard that raspy voice bellow into my ear that dominated the loud flow of music that waterfalled into my brain. And instantly to my dismay I knew who it was because that voice belonged to the most demonic figure in REW. And then he came and stood before me with that sadistic smile ravaging his face. I could hear the knives on his fingers grinding together as he folded them over one another. Like dogs Fallen One and Freakula followed Dreamkiller to his left and right and stood there, watching me with their glares burning holes through my face like a fairy tale’s perfect antagonists. And I didn’t want to talk to Dreamkiller because I knew he was never up to anything that wasn’t synonymous with evil, but it wasn’t as if I could just stand there and pretend I didn’t see him or hear him so I took the buds out of my ears and stuffed them into my left pocket. Then I lowered my head, my teeth grinding and my fingers rubbing together hard and vigorously, and I looked up at him and I said...
“What do you want, Dream?”
And then his smile grew a little wider, as if my voice was music to his ears but I don’t see how that could be possible because my voice isn’t all that melodic. And then he leaned in closer and he looked me up and down, observing the aroma of emotion that permeated from me, and with his own cohorts in his midst he said, “Did you hear the good news?”
He stared me in the eyes when he said this and I flinched with surprise because I didn’t expect him to say such a sentence. Sure, maybe something like ‘I’m going to kill you,’ or ‘Your blood will flow like a river into the drains of the streets,’ but what he asked me caught me off guard. So then I looked him in the eye with my eyebrows doubled over and my eyes widened curiously and I said, “Uh... What good news?” And I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head. And then Dream took a step back and he laughed a little under his rugged, snarling breath, and then he ran the knives across his face, savoring the cold feeling that the metal breathed onto him, and then he looked at me between the blades and said, “You’ve not heard?” He asked rhetorically, and then he dropped his dangerous hand to his side once more and he spoke, “It’s become clear that you, Corrigan, will be facing Blake Worship at The Brawl.”
I did not know this, but it wasn’t as though I was surprised because the animosity between Worship and I had been so obvious, so as my eyebrow arose I said, “So?”
And then Dreamkiller looked at me for a moment and allowed the silence to come and sink into my pores and he said, “For the World Heavyweight Championship, Corrigan...”
And then I froze, and I wanted to say something but instantly the words escaped me. My mouth hung open, my heart skipped a beat and my lungs took a breath far deeper than I was ready for. And I don’t know why, but nervousness hit me than that I have not encountered since I set foot in the wrestling industry.
And then the smile grew wider on Dreamkiller’s face, and I could hear that cynical laughter building in his throat, and soon he bursted into his hysterics, laughing maniacally as his brothers of destruction assumed the same. And then soon their amusement died, and Dreamkiller leaned in closed and laid his hand on my left shoulder, and I could feel the blades on the edges of his fingers lay upon my shoulder blade and it made me shiver and cringe a bit. And he leaned in close and the breath that exerted from his mouth was bitter and disgusting. “I know what you’re thinking, Corrigan. And you’re right.”
He shook his head, “You can’t do this alone,” and with what seemed like a stroke of compassion he said, “And it would be difficult for me to disagree. Blake Worship holds closely that strap of gold on his waist, and it is by some power of tyranny that he remains the champion, Corrigan. And it is against that tyranny that I would like to supplant you with some tyranny of your own.”
And that same sadist smile returned on his face, seeming to envision what could be, to dream of some kind of revelation. And then with a snicker kickstarting his voice, he bellowed, “So I would like you to bare witness to my proposal, Corrigan...”
And then he took a step backward and he unfolded his arms and held them out at his sides to make obvious the harrowing creatures that stood beside him. “Join us. Join us, Corrigan.” And then a wide and satisfied smile became apparent on his dry, cracked and crusted lips, “Join the Army of Darkness. Become what you’ve always desired to become, and I assure you that Worship will rue the very day he laid his eyes upon you. And he will be left there in a single pattern of carnage that will rain down upon him like acid from the sky. And you and me and Fallen One, and Freakula, we will stand above his bloodied carcass, that with hardly enough blood to draw another breath... and we will take not pity on him.”
And Dreamkiller’s voice dragged like a slab of steel against gravel. And it stopped, and he stood there a moment, and I could feel water sprinkle down on my face from the sky. And then everything around lit up with white and thunder groaned from the clouds above. And with my face dampened from the rain that began to pour I looked up at Dreamkiller and I said nothing. And then he came close to me once more and he grabbed me by the hair that strung from the back of my head, and he forced me to look in his evil, wretched eyes. And then he said, “Your decision is not yet fated to be made, Corrigan. But I assure you we will return soon for an answer. And once we know you to be one of us... pain... suffering... and most of all, righteousness... will be inflicted on the damned...”
And then Dreamkiller released me, his metal claws latching to the strands of hair that he pulled from my head and they dwindled away on the edges of his knives. And then he backed away from me with a sadistic smile eating at his face. And this look, this glare on his face remained still and ever-present. After several backward lunges, Dreamkiller finally turned his shoulder to me and walked away, and Fallen One and Freakula left a lasting, hateful scowl in my wake before they did the same. And then they walked together in unison, Fallen One and Freakula, almost in obediance, following at Dream’s sides. And then the Army of Darkness left me there in the rain, seeping into the bowels of contemplation, and no longer could I see them. And as I leaned on my crutch I thought about what Dream said. My thoughts ran deep into the core of my brain, but even still I couldn’t bring myself to realize if I was right... or if they were.
I put the ear buds back in my ears. I knew I wouldn’t sleep much that night, as the music shook me internally.
“We raced the sun, and we almost won...
We slammed the brakes, but the wheels went on...
We ran away...”[/font]
“Fuck...” I sighed as my shoulders drooped like tree sap on a downward slope. And then I turned back toward the street and assumed the uniform pose of your average bus commuter... standing there with a bored, somewhat upset look on my face as I anticipated the arrival of that which transports me. My eyes remained glued on the street and my mind wandered while the music pouring into my ears reflected to the back of my mind.
“We ran like vampires from a thousand burning sons...
But even then we should have stayed...
But we ran away...
Now all my friends are gone...”
And amidst it all... the silence that resided outside my ears and the chaos that resumed within... a smile grew on my face because all I could think of, and all I could see despite the light that invaded my eyes... was Blake Worship lying there on the floor, bleeding unbeknownst to his unconscious mind. And it wasn’t like I was surprised. It wasn’t like I couldn’t see it coming, like I couldn’t even see it happening... It’s just that months have gone by without Worship getting even a taste of what he deserved. Months of retribution being stuck in my throat and finally I got to see him hurt just a little bit more than I do. And seeing that was like exerting a scream from lungs that for so long had been empty and breathless. And so finally I could feel my heart beat again, I could feel my soul caressing me from the inside, and additionally the music I listened to finally made sense again.
“I brought down the sky for you but all you did was shrug...
You gave my emptiness a name...”
I felt like I had a purpose again. Like my life had meaning. And no I didn’t have them by my side anymore. Jayson Ray no longer stood there beside me with his World Heavyweight Championship and a pocketful of friendly advice. Tahti was no longer there to inspire me with the happiness painted on her face. And Dyce wasn’t there anymore to call me emo every day and encourage me not to be, to push myself forward when it seemed the best idea was to do nothing. No, they were all gone. But once DHS died I became alive once more... I grew past the insecurity I imagined without them, and I embraced myself as what I used to be... that shy, awkward kid who wouldn’t talk to you if you asked the time. And not because he hated you or wished death upon you, but because when you talked to him, his fingers clenched and his teeth grinded and his eyes squeezed shut and he didn’t know why... but what he did know was that he wanted to get away, wanted to be alone in his own thoughts. Wanted to just endure the day rather than live it, and wouldn’t mind dying at any moment because at least than he could curl into the firey corner of hell and find solace in his idle being.
Loner. That’s what I became once more. Free from the bond of an alliance, liberated to act upon each impulse that ignited in the pit of my stomach. And though I loved those people that I saw each and every day for months, even though it took bravery to look myself in the mirror without their presence close at hand, I always knew that the allegiance we vowed left a burden holding me down against the cold surface of the ground.
Because I grew up this way, alone and thinking and existing purely for my own needs and wants like some kind of wild animal, and that’s the way I’ve grown used to living. So now that I’m here again... it was like a drug couring through my veins... my heart beated faster... my lungs pumped air harder... my eyes grew wider... because I liked it. Somehow, I liked standing here knowing that any decision I made would be my own and not that of an informed, consulted view. I was my own kid again. And once again, I was the Leaf in the Wind...
“We’re all okay, until the day we’re not...
The surface shines, while the inside rots...”
“Why, hello there Corrigan,” and then I heard that raspy voice bellow into my ear that dominated the loud flow of music that waterfalled into my brain. And instantly to my dismay I knew who it was because that voice belonged to the most demonic figure in REW. And then he came and stood before me with that sadistic smile ravaging his face. I could hear the knives on his fingers grinding together as he folded them over one another. Like dogs Fallen One and Freakula followed Dreamkiller to his left and right and stood there, watching me with their glares burning holes through my face like a fairy tale’s perfect antagonists. And I didn’t want to talk to Dreamkiller because I knew he was never up to anything that wasn’t synonymous with evil, but it wasn’t as if I could just stand there and pretend I didn’t see him or hear him so I took the buds out of my ears and stuffed them into my left pocket. Then I lowered my head, my teeth grinding and my fingers rubbing together hard and vigorously, and I looked up at him and I said...
“What do you want, Dream?”
And then his smile grew a little wider, as if my voice was music to his ears but I don’t see how that could be possible because my voice isn’t all that melodic. And then he leaned in closer and he looked me up and down, observing the aroma of emotion that permeated from me, and with his own cohorts in his midst he said, “Did you hear the good news?”
He stared me in the eyes when he said this and I flinched with surprise because I didn’t expect him to say such a sentence. Sure, maybe something like ‘I’m going to kill you,’ or ‘Your blood will flow like a river into the drains of the streets,’ but what he asked me caught me off guard. So then I looked him in the eye with my eyebrows doubled over and my eyes widened curiously and I said, “Uh... What good news?” And I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head. And then Dream took a step back and he laughed a little under his rugged, snarling breath, and then he ran the knives across his face, savoring the cold feeling that the metal breathed onto him, and then he looked at me between the blades and said, “You’ve not heard?” He asked rhetorically, and then he dropped his dangerous hand to his side once more and he spoke, “It’s become clear that you, Corrigan, will be facing Blake Worship at The Brawl.”
I did not know this, but it wasn’t as though I was surprised because the animosity between Worship and I had been so obvious, so as my eyebrow arose I said, “So?”
And then Dreamkiller looked at me for a moment and allowed the silence to come and sink into my pores and he said, “For the World Heavyweight Championship, Corrigan...”
And then I froze, and I wanted to say something but instantly the words escaped me. My mouth hung open, my heart skipped a beat and my lungs took a breath far deeper than I was ready for. And I don’t know why, but nervousness hit me than that I have not encountered since I set foot in the wrestling industry.
And then the smile grew wider on Dreamkiller’s face, and I could hear that cynical laughter building in his throat, and soon he bursted into his hysterics, laughing maniacally as his brothers of destruction assumed the same. And then soon their amusement died, and Dreamkiller leaned in closed and laid his hand on my left shoulder, and I could feel the blades on the edges of his fingers lay upon my shoulder blade and it made me shiver and cringe a bit. And he leaned in close and the breath that exerted from his mouth was bitter and disgusting. “I know what you’re thinking, Corrigan. And you’re right.”
He shook his head, “You can’t do this alone,” and with what seemed like a stroke of compassion he said, “And it would be difficult for me to disagree. Blake Worship holds closely that strap of gold on his waist, and it is by some power of tyranny that he remains the champion, Corrigan. And it is against that tyranny that I would like to supplant you with some tyranny of your own.”
And that same sadist smile returned on his face, seeming to envision what could be, to dream of some kind of revelation. And then with a snicker kickstarting his voice, he bellowed, “So I would like you to bare witness to my proposal, Corrigan...”
And then he took a step backward and he unfolded his arms and held them out at his sides to make obvious the harrowing creatures that stood beside him. “Join us. Join us, Corrigan.” And then a wide and satisfied smile became apparent on his dry, cracked and crusted lips, “Join the Army of Darkness. Become what you’ve always desired to become, and I assure you that Worship will rue the very day he laid his eyes upon you. And he will be left there in a single pattern of carnage that will rain down upon him like acid from the sky. And you and me and Fallen One, and Freakula, we will stand above his bloodied carcass, that with hardly enough blood to draw another breath... and we will take not pity on him.”
And Dreamkiller’s voice dragged like a slab of steel against gravel. And it stopped, and he stood there a moment, and I could feel water sprinkle down on my face from the sky. And then everything around lit up with white and thunder groaned from the clouds above. And with my face dampened from the rain that began to pour I looked up at Dreamkiller and I said nothing. And then he came close to me once more and he grabbed me by the hair that strung from the back of my head, and he forced me to look in his evil, wretched eyes. And then he said, “Your decision is not yet fated to be made, Corrigan. But I assure you we will return soon for an answer. And once we know you to be one of us... pain... suffering... and most of all, righteousness... will be inflicted on the damned...”
And then Dreamkiller released me, his metal claws latching to the strands of hair that he pulled from my head and they dwindled away on the edges of his knives. And then he backed away from me with a sadistic smile eating at his face. And this look, this glare on his face remained still and ever-present. After several backward lunges, Dreamkiller finally turned his shoulder to me and walked away, and Fallen One and Freakula left a lasting, hateful scowl in my wake before they did the same. And then they walked together in unison, Fallen One and Freakula, almost in obediance, following at Dream’s sides. And then the Army of Darkness left me there in the rain, seeping into the bowels of contemplation, and no longer could I see them. And as I leaned on my crutch I thought about what Dream said. My thoughts ran deep into the core of my brain, but even still I couldn’t bring myself to realize if I was right... or if they were.
I put the ear buds back in my ears. I knew I wouldn’t sleep much that night, as the music shook me internally.
“We raced the sun, and we almost won...
We slammed the brakes, but the wheels went on...
We ran away...”[/font]
[/center]