Post by Chance Fusion on Jan 13, 2015 16:37:54 GMT
Tuesday, January 6th, 2015: Time 1225
36014 N 31st Ave, Phoenix, AZ 85086
The mid-day sun rose high over the mighty suburbs of Phoenix, Arizona. The weather sizzled compared to most of the country, but the strong breeze out of the northeast aided the comfortable temperature which hovered in the low eighties. The door to a familiar home, that which housed Jay Scarlet and Sophie Jade, glided open as Sophie stepped out into the blinding sunlight. She shaded her eyes with her bare forearm, slightly pulling up her tank top and exposing a modicum of tattoos from her stomach and accentuating those on her shoulder. Sophie squinted hard to avoid the heavy ultraviolet rays invading her personal space. She felt the sun beating down on her bare lower legs and mostly exposed feet.
Sophie Jade arrived at the mailbox, pulling it open and grabbing a few items from within. A small package nestled under her arm as she closed the mailbox with an elbow and began to make her way back up the driveway. As she was doing so, what appeared to be a red child’s kickball bounced in her direction and caught her in the side of the head. The impact was minimal, but her shock and frustration was drastic. She reached down and grabbed the ball before turning to locate the source. An eleven year old boy was standing at the nearest edge of a driveway across the street waving in her direction. While Sophie Jade’s appearance was approachable, her gaze told a different story. Her eyes burned with fury as she reached down and lifted the ball off the ground with her free hand.
“Learn to mind your surroundings,” she shouted from across the street before she turned and punted the kickball high in the air. It flew over her own home and into the empty field behind it.
Grumbling, groaning, and sadness trickled in the back of her ear from across the street, but Sophie ignored it and headed inside. She widened her eyes in appreciation of the less harsh atmosphere and set the insignificant pile of mail on the dining room table. A resounding ding came from nearby, Sophie glanced up at a light attached to the wall near the door to the garage. It glowed bright red and illuminated the small space around it. Sophie set the package down and headed into the garage, opening the heavy door to reveal the intense training area. A pang of sweat laced with hints of blood and pain rolled through her nostrils as she ventured inward. There she saw him. A man adorned with tattoos lay flat on the concrete panting heavily and drenched with sweat.
Sophie Jade approached and lowered herself to one knee. Jay Scarlet struggled as she lifted his arm over her shoulder and used her strength to help him up. Without a word, she assisted him out of the garage and into the living room of their home, closing the door behind her. She lowered Jay down onto a daybed in the living room, helping him get into a comfortable position. He continued to breath heavily, but it was slowly coming back to a controlled rate. His chest rose and fell as his eyes bore holes in the back of his eyelids. Moments later, Sophie returned with a couple of ice packs, an electrolyte infused bottle of water, and the package that was retrieved from the mailbox.
“I think,” Jay began as he continued to calm his breathing. “You’re getting too good at this.”
“You may be correct, but you’re providing me an awful lot of practice.” Sophie replied.
“Training until my body completely shuts down is effective. Intense and painful, but effective. The notification system was one of your better ideas.” Jay said as his breathing finally came down to a normal rate.
“I presumed you’d prefer not to simply lay there until I wander in to check on you. Now that you seem to be breathing properly once more, I have news.” Sophie said.
“First, what package did I receive?” Jay said as his eyes wandered to the box she’d set aside.
“We shall see,” Sophie said as she grabbed it and tore open the package. From within Sophie retrieved an elevation training mask encased in hard plastic. She popped open the container and handed the mask to Jay.
“Finally,” he began as he held the item in his hands. “This handy little item will simulate high elevation conditions. It’ll make my breathing even more difficult than it has been while training, so performing without it will immediately improve my stamina.”
“Delightful,” Sophie popped happily. “Firstly, it appears in your previous contest you managed to fracture the hand of that girl Lava.”
“That’s disappointing,” Jay said with a sigh. “Had the referee not stopped it, I’d surely have broken it or tore her hand clean off. I suppose a fracture is still good though.”
“Quite,” she agreed. “In non-competition news, I’ve still received no word from her.”
“Oh,” Jay said as he looked up lovingly and read the unfamiliar sadness etched over Sophie’s face. “She needs time. If she has received the letter, it’ll take more time for her to process it. I understand your desire to hear back, but it needs to simmer a bit longer. When the time is right, it will happen.”
“Of course,” Sophie began as she soaked up her glum appearance. “I suppose the gravity is simply wearing on my patience. Even with my weathered family relations, knowing there are so few left has come to mind often as of late.”
“Remember,” Jay started as he leaned forward and fought through instant soreness to plant a comforting kiss on the forehead of Sophie Jade. “You’ve got family right here.”
“I do,” Sophie said with a smile before continuing with her previous topic. “Back to news, and this final tidbit is of the most delightful sort. Recently, ACE Wrestling has conducted a series of challenge matches with a rival organization known as the Revolutionary Wrestling Division which operates out of the southern United States. You have been selected to compete in the third match of the series. It will be at RWD’s event on the 18th of January in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.”
“Ah,” Jay started. “I can’t say I’m pleased to be going to that hellhole called a city, but I can at least expect some competition. Who is it they’ve chosen as my opponent?”
“Robert Garland,” Sophie informed with a sly curl in her tone.
“Robert Garland?” Jay replied in rhetorical affirmation. “That is news of a delightful sort. I remember him from the days of Immortal Pro Wrestling. Interesting that I come up against such an opponent considering we never squared off in those days. Is he just as delusional as he was those years ago in IPW?”
“It appears the remnants still remain, but he is also the current co-general manager of RWD. Of course, the other half of said pairing would be his old handler of sorts Travis Rech.” Sophie informed him as Jay processed the still fresh information.
“General manager,” he muttered while the cogs cranked from within. “It’s difficult to believe, though not impossible, that such a man has any ability to keep such an organization afloat. Though I suppose Travis Rech was the only reason he was ever able to keep himself afloat. I remember him being quite fond of the hardcore nature of this business, but that won’t be an option here.”
“Well,” Sophie interjected. “It won’t unless there is a sudden alteration by Rech, or even Garland, that changes it to a no disqualifications affair. While I’d imagine foreseeing that possibility is wise, I would highly doubt that would be done in a cross-promotional event such as this.”
“True,” Jay started as he thrusted his upper body skyward with difficulty to reach a seated position. “The endurance training I am currently subjecting myself to will be sufficient for such a gameplan. Does he have any weakne-”
Jay suddenly froze as a smile curled from the corners of his mouth and sinful delight flooded his eyes.
“The knee.” Jay Scarlet said with utter certainty. “He has a lingering knee injury.”
“Oh,” Sophie responded with a light gasp of delight. “Yes, yes he does.”
“Perhaps he should go ahead and get the prosthetics ready. I think it’s time to amputate another leg.” Jay said with fervor as a terrifying chuckle slipped out.
He smirked wide as Sophie Jade met his gaze and the duo knew with utter certainty that they would be ready for Robert Garland. Training would intensify throughout the week, but come RWD’s Sunday Night Combat, Jay Scarlet would arrive fresh and ready for action. Jay delighted in the thoughts of his upcoming competition, taking pleasure in each singular realization of what pain he would be able to inflict.
As I continue to leave an indelible mark on ACE Wrestling, it appears they have ventured in the direction of their most skilled competitor to compete in this “friendly competition.” I can understand the reasoning behind Alan Christopher’s choice in me, but he must understand that this won’t be done for ACE Wrestling. I do not fret over petty interpromotional events. I am concerned with championships, and nothing else. Despite my lack of importance on this supposed series, the match itself weighs heavy on me. The irony of coming full circle to face Robert Garland, a man from my past, is not lost on me in the slightest.
It seems, as the years ticked by, I’ve come to have more in common with Robert than I once did. While, by comparison, my actions were not as drastic as his, we have both had our tussles with the criminal justice system. Robert Garland’s history is well documented and extensive. His crimes, convictions and suspected, include everything from arson and attempted murder to assault on a peace officer. Garland had his own stretch in a psych ward, and he appears to have taken it quite differently than I did. I don’t know what Garland remembers about me, but I know what that place did to me.
It freed me. Not because their supposed medicinal techniques and crack psychology were successful when combined with a massive amount of prescription drugs. Rather, the way in which Sophie and I responded to it freed me from the delusions I’d delved so deep into. When I last saw Robert Garland, I was “The Jersey Devil.” It was not that I lived behind a curtain as the masked wizard of IPW pretending to be something I wasn’t. I was, in my own way within my mind, The Jersey Devil. Sophie, with every fiber of her mental being, was The Sussex Succubus.
Together, we lived wild and reckless. I attacked and mutilated wild animals in a misguided attempt to believe that the carnal nature of these actions would give me the power I needed in the ring. As if drinking their blood would serve a supernatural energy drink that allowed me to demolish opponents en masse, we continued to live like this. My in ring skill always kept me at the top of the list, but I was never able to capture the IPW World Heavyweight Championship. Time and time again, it slipped through my grasp. I struggled and wondered what the cause could possibly be. Constantly, I found external sources to exert blame upon.
When Immortal Pro Wrestling revived for one final night, I found myself exiting a time of great change and returning back to the ring which is my home. However, the change had not yet been completed. Out of familiarity, we clung to the identities we’d lived for so long once I exited the Ann Klein Forensic Center in West Trenton, New Jersey. In the ring with Casanova English and Chuck Johnson, I prevailed. With absolute certainty, I was victorious. I was running on the premature emissions of my transformation, but my skill carried me through two inferior competitors.
Upon arriving at ACE Wrestling, it was almost time to shed my old self. I was ready to reach the moment where the only thing left of the beast I used to be was the very shell it lived in. Delikado, the bumbling buffoon that he is, actually sent a much appreciated shock to my system when he lucked into a victory over me. With the absolute destruction of Mikey Unlikely, I became Jay Scarlet once again. That is what has changed about me that Robert Garland must understand. He’s not facing the man who once stood in Immortal Pro Wrestling.
I’m not The Jersey Devil. I’m not a monster. I’m not the beast incarnate. I’m not a daemonic savior. I’m a man who is more effective, more skilled, and more brutal inside of a wrestling ring than anyone else on the planet. I don’t defeat my opponents, I maim them. I understand the light feeling such a comment might contain in this industry. Every week it is inundated with one man after another claiming he is going to destroy his opponents in creative ways. I am a tactician. I pick my opponents apart until they have no choice but to forfeit.
Look no further than ACE Wrestling. Delikado is now missing a leg thanks to the damage I inflicted on his knee. Lava has a fractured hand that would easily be broken had a gutless coward of a referee not thrown in the towel for her. As for Robert Garland, your past injuries don’t escape my mind. I know precisely what happened. Nearly eight years ago, your right knee was seriously injured in EWA against a man named Mark Fletcher. The lovely thing about knee injuries is that they linger. I’m sure it nags at you in the morning when you roll out of bed into your sad corporate existence.
Rest assured “Badger,” I will rend that knee from you so that you need not worry about it any longer. I will happily make my singular mark in the Revolutionary Wrestling Division by giving you a world of pain and ridicule as you hobble onwards with your life. I’m only a man, but I’m a man who will pick you apart. When the bell sounds, you need do only one thing to escape. As I lock in The Bear Trap and listen to the cartilage within your leg snap and tear, I will give no quarter. I will enjoy it. Robert Garland, you hold the key to being able to walk again in your life. It’s simple.
Forfeit.
so quickly so sad!
