Faith, Rage, & Paranoia... AKA My Life
May 6, 2023 21:13:51 GMT -5
"Cholo" Giovanni Santana and Jim Caedus like this
Post by Peter Vaughn on May 6, 2023 21:13:51 GMT -5
May 6th, 2023
~The picture slowly comes up on Peter Vaughn, although it's hard to fully make out his features. He's currently seated in a very dark place, staring outwards but not really seeing anything in front of him. The area is extremely quiet, as we can barely hear anything other than Vaughn's breathing. He takes another deep breath, letting it out in a long sigh, before he starts to speak.~
Peter Vaughn: Over the last month, I've found myself in the unenviable position of not being fully in control of myself. My anger, my fury, has gotten the best of me in TPW, leading to me getting indefinitely suspended until I fight the owner of the company in a match. The rage has caused me to dream about attacking friends and relatives, immediately waking up from those assaults to find they didn't really take place. But every so often... I am taking someone down. And sure, I do it for a living, but... I like to be the one making the choice to do it, y'know? I... I have... to be... in control!
~Vaughn suddenly snaps his right hand out, slamming it against the surface next to him. There's a loud rattle, but nothing else happens, as Vaughn tries to calm himself, so that he can continue talking.~
Peter Vaughn: I can't say I have a good reason for any of it happening, although I suspect one thing: the return of Jim Caedus to my life. You see, Caedus turned out to be one of my greatest victories, but also one of my greatest regrets. And ever since he walked back into my world by joining the WGWF... well, that's around the time the issues started. But I don't know. Is Caedus really that important to be causing me strife? Does he REALLY hold that tight a spot in my mind, that his mere reemergence from his hideous cocoon has rattled me? It doesn't feel right. I'm probably giving him too much credit.
~Vaughn shakes his head, leaning backwards in the seat he appears to be sitting on. His head rests against the back wall, propping him up.~
Peter Vaughn: I just don't know if it's going to continue. Will I keep seeing things that cause me to blow up in an uncontrollable rage? Can I find a way to release it all? I thought the Battle Royal would have enough people to do it, but... I still feel it. Inside. And I don't know what comes next. Maybe it gets worse. Or maybe I just lean into it. I'm not sure.
~After a few seconds of silence, Vaughn looks over to his left.~
Peter Vaughn: You're awfully quiet. Aren't you supposed to be talking by now?
Voice: What do you want me to say, son? I'm afraid it's a lot to take in. I do have one question for you, first off...
Peter Vaughn: I'll answer if I'm able to. What is it?
Voice: Well, son... it's just... you're not Catholic, are you?
~Vaughn looks over, his eyes narrowing as he looks through the thin screen next to him, where a priest is peering in, looking concerned at all he's heard. It appears that Vaughn is currently sitting in a confessional booth.~
Peter Vaughn: What kind of question is that? No, I'm not Catholic. Not anymore. When you've lived through what I have, you don't have a reason to believe in God.
Priest: Well, son, in that case, I don't think I can really help you. I'm mainly concerned with your holy soul, and if you don't believe, what would be the point?
Peter Vaughn: I thought all of you guys were great listeners and gave amazing advice! I've seen it on TV!
Priest: Well, yes, I do think of myself as someone who listens. If you want advice, I might say you should talk to a professional... there are many well-versed psychiatrists that I could point you towards, my son.
Peter Vaughn: Psychiatrists? Rip-off artists, you mean. They don't know their ass from their elbows. What are they going to do to help??
Priest: Look, Peter, you have to think about where this rage is taking you. It may have to follows its course to the end.
Peter Vaughn: But is there an end? Does it really... wait. I never told you my name. Did I?
~The priest is suddenly quiet. Vaughn's eyes darken, as he suddenly kicks open the confessional door and storms out. He reaches over, grabbing the other door and ripping it open. You can hear the splinter of some wood from the door being forced too quickly.~
Peter Vaughn: WHO THE HELL ARE...
~Vaughn's yell cuts short as he realizes that the confessional booth on this side is empty. Vaughn looks around, but there's nowhere anyone could have gone. He backs away, rubbing at his head, as he turns to the front, where several startled church-goers are staring his way, wondering if they're in danger. An older priest, who looks nothing like the one we saw in shadow, steps forward.~
Priest: Are you okay, son? Do you... do you need to talk?
~For a second, Vaughn covers his hands over his face, basically peering through his fingers at the man of the cloth. His hands slide down, with Vaughn shaking his head. He turns and walks away without a word, heading out of the sanctuary, as the priest watches him go.~
Control isn't an easy concept, is it, Jimmy?
I mean, you're practically the poster boy for riding through turbulent waters in the wrestling business. Your downfall in the XWF is almost legendary, even if I hate being attached to it. I definitely can understand if you don't want to remember things the way they were then, because, yeah, they were rough. Apex collapsed like a house of cards. Your 'victory' over ALIAS was shredded by the masses. Your fight against me turned out to be a major disaster, at least in most people's minds. Personally, I still remember the match rather fondly, but hey, that's just me.
It's the reason we're entwined together in the history books, Jimmy, something I'd love to erase sometime in the future. Maybe the next month or so, we'll manage that. I sure as hell hope so.
I do want to thank you for one thing, though, Jimminy. When you joined me in tossing out that milksop, Mason, and then when I watched as you sent that newcomer Adams packing, I realized what was happening: I was getting that chance of redemption, at least in one portion of our story. You see, one of the main things I've heard in the year since we had our 'fight' in the XWF is that I was... cowardly... fighting you when you were in that state. Apparently, the thought was that I was too scared of you being healthy, and that I just wanted the free win. It's bullshit, of course. I just wanted that championship, which, as everyone knows, I wore with pride... at least for a little while.
But when it became you and I as team captains, Jimmy, the narrative shifted. You know why? Because the common logic was that, as the WGWF World Champion, I shouldn't try to win the Captain's Battle Royale. I mean, let's face it, it put me at a major disadvantage. It assured that I would be defending my belt against another wrestler who had made it all the way through the fire & flames to stand besides me. I'd be facing the best of the group. I heard all the comments beforehand, how I should just eliminate myself at some point, so that I'd fight a lesser opponent. Or maybe I should have focused on all the "stronger" wrestlers and tried to carry someone like, say, Damage or Big Pun to the final two. I even heard rumors afterwards that people thought I WAS doing that, only that I had chosen Adams to get there instead.
Ridiculous. I really wanted that guy out of there, and I was happy to see him go. Guy's got a big mouth.
But no, Jimmy. I didn't take the easy way out. I didn't try to run away. I was genuinely happy to see you standing there, next to me, ready to go toe-to-toe once again. I wanted the opportunity to have an all-out war with you, both in singles and in our respective teams. I wanted a chance to wipe that slate clean, to prove to the world that it wasn't just a fluke win over an incapacitated foe, but that I truly stand as an equal next to... or better than... you. Sure, I could've had an easier contest and not worried about War Games. Sure, I'm not known as a team player, which probably won't make me the best Team Captain. Sure, I've chosen the tougher road.
And I'd choose it again if I had the chance.
Does that mean I'm even more out of control than I thought? You be the judge, Jimmy. You have more experience with it.
~The shot comes back with Peter Vaughn walking down the street, leaving the church far behind him. He doesn't want to be around, in case the police get called, although it's not like there was much damage done. He does seem to be muttering to himself, though, which isn't the best sign of someone's stability.~
Peter Vaughn: Stupid invisible priest. Where the hell did that come from? Did I create him? Am I truly losing it?
~Vaughn shakes his head, again rubbing at his head, his shiny wristwatch glinting in the sun as he tries to recover. He staggers forward, before looking around for a second.~
Peter Vaughn: Speaking of losing it... where's Gabriela??
~In case anyone's not aware, Gabriela is Vaughn's pride and joy: his pick-up truck. Apparently, it's not where Vaughn parked it... or at least where he THOUGHT he parked it. He takes a look at the street sign nearby, wincing.~
Peter Vaughn: That's not right... where am I?
~Vaughn turns to walk off, trying to get his bearings. That's when Chris Page pops up in front of him, laughing.~
Chris Page: Losing something again, huh, Pete?
~Vaughn, startled, reaches out and grabs Page by the shirt.~
Peter Vaughn: What are YOU doing here??
Voice: Let GO of me!!
~Suddenly, Vaughn is looking straight into the face of a sixty year old woman, who is wearing too much make-up for her age. Vaughn steps back, raising his hands in shock.~
Peter Vaughn: Sorry! You're... not who I thought you were...
Woman: Jerk. Next time you want a feel, just ask first...
~The woman grins for a moment, but Vaughn is already backing away. He turns, bumping into another man behind him.~
Jim Caedus: Confused, Petey?
~Vaughn jumps back, but this time, he keeps his hands to his side... as the vision quickly disperses, becoming a large man wearing working clothes.~
Man: Too early to be drinking, guy. Go home and sleep it off.
Peter Vaughn: But... but I'm not... oh, the HELL with this!!
~Vaughn turns and walks away from both individuals, heading straight into a nearby alley. He jogs down it, looking at the light on the other side.~
Peter Vaughn: I just need to get my ass home and sleep this off... it'll be okay... it'll all be okay...
~That's when Vaughn is tackled from the side by someone, who rose up from behind a dumpster. Vaughn flies against the wall, smacking his head. He stumbles, looking back at the figure who seemingly attacked him.~
Peter Vaughn: Ow... hold on, I didn't imagine that hit. Who....?
~The figure steps forward, coming out of the darkness for all of us to see.~
"Peter Vaughn": Looks like we finally get to talk again, Pete. It's been a while. Mind the right...
~Vaughn gasps in confusion as his doppelganger moves towards him, swinging towards his face...~
We're always battling ourselves, aren't we, Jimmy?
At least, we're fighting our own reputations. Let's face it, each and every time I defeat someone, even if it's basically as clean as a whistle, all I'll hear later is "He cheated, because that's how he always wins". I mean, hell, I won BOTH the WGWF West Coast Rumble AND the Captain's Battle Royale, which nobody can say I broke the rules anywhere throughout, and yet I'm always going to have that reputation here regardless. I must have cheated to get this belt, right?
I mean, I don't MIND winning via a little trickery. It's still a victory. But I wouldn't mind some credit for the times I won clean. Wouldn't you?
I wonder, if I pin your shoulders to the mat for the 1-2-3, Jimmy, will you once again say that there were outside forces that ruined your chance to win? Will you say that I tricked you, or that I twisted things in my favor? Will you say that I don't deserve to get the #1 pick in our little War Games draft? Or will you be a real man and take the loss, accepting that you fell to the Mechanic for a second time?
I'm betting on the former, really, but hoping for the latter. You HAVE changed, after all.
You see, Jimmy, I've studied you quite extensively. You're not the goody-goody guy you used to pretend to be in Apex, are you? You're showing signs that you've gotten rather looser in those morals of yours. You even joined up with the CCPE, which doesn't exactly make you a fan favorite, let me tell you. I mean, c'mon, we took in Sonya Benson.
Even I'm not thrilled with that one.
But I'm glad to have you in CCPE, Jimmy, because it shows that maybe your trajectory does stand a chance of changing. Maybe you are smartening up in your choices. Maybe you're going to give me the pure fight I've been craving, where the referee is just an after-thought between us. But I don't know. I'm still waiting to find out exactly which one is the real Jimmy: the one who I once knew, or the one who walked out in a cocky strut here in the WGWF.
We'll just have to see how far you're willing to take it... because as you may have noticed, I'm a bit prone to go a little overboard lately. In any other profession, I'd probably be getting fired or committed because of it. The police would be called, and I'd be hauled off to have a few things 'corrected' in the psych ward. Hell, the way you are, Jimmy, you'd probably be joining me.
Isn't it great that we're both professional wrestlers, which means all we have to do is beat the holy hell out of each other? Violence is definitely... encouraged.
And maybe, Jimmy, since you and I have walked similar paths in a way lately, it'll just be like fighting ourselves. Making it cathartic. We can always hope so, right?
~Vaughn, on pure instinct, avoids the punch coming his way, redirecting it back into the alley wall behind him. The figure before him steps back, shaking his hand out, although his expression doesn't change. For Vaughn, it's like looking in a distorted mirror.~
Peter Vaughn: Damn... I haven't had my hair like that for a while now...
"Peter Vaughn": Oh, c'mon, you know you miss this look.
~The clone of Vaughn charges at him, tackling him back into the wall. Vaughn counters with an axehandle shot to the back, shoving the Janitor off of him and sending him sprawling to the ground. He gets right back up, though, still smiling.~
Peter Vaughn: What's going on? What are you doing here?
"Peter Vaughn": I'd say it's pretty simple, Mr. Vaughn. You're starting to crack up... and I'm not letting the opportunity get away from me. Not again.
~"Vaughn" jumps at our main character, again going on the attack. Vaughn tries to twist away from him, but this time he gets caught, getting locked into a semi-bear hug as his lookalike hangs on tightly, trying to keep him contained.~
Peter Vaughn: I... ugh... I don't understand!
"Peter Vaughn": You've taken my place, Peter. You stole my life. You've ruined my reputation. You've discarded everything our father ever taught us... EVERYTHING!!
Peter Vaughn: No... I... HAVEN'T!
~With a mighty heave, Vaughn manages to free himself, knocking his duplicate away from him. As the vision in front of him tries to regain his balance, Vaughn comes forward, throwing his leg forward with a wicked low blow!! The Janitor falls to his knees, hurting, but he doesn't release his gaze on, well, himself.~
"Peter Vaughn": You... you see? Dad would NEVER accept you taking the quick way out! He'd always say to do things the honorable way! And that's how we did it for so long!!
Peter Vaughn: And where did that get us?? He ended up dying a loser in a retirement home, unable to even take care of himself due to having no savings! We were living in a small, crumbling apartment, our wrestling career nothing but a long series of beat-downs! And look at me now!! The WGWF World Champion!! Dad... Dad would be proud of me!!
"Peter Vaughn": You're more delusional than I thought. He'd hate you, Peter. He'd despise you.
~With that, "Vaughn" pushes forward again, refusing to stay down. He grabs at Vaughn, reaching for his eyes, as if to try and rake them out. It's not exactly an honorable move on his part, really. But Vaughn rolls with it, locking onto his mirror image and dropping backwards, giving the man a monkey flip right into the side of the dumpster!! There's a massive crash from the impact, as his clone slides off the top and lands on the ground. Vaughn staggers over to him, grabbing him by the head and hauling him up to stare right at him.~
Peter Vaughn: Truth is, I don't care what he would think about me. I certainly don't care about what YOU think! Because I'm a winner now! I'm a five-time World Champion with more on the way! And I've done it MY WAY, the SUCCESSFUL way, no matter what you or anyone else says!
~The Janitor-like figure, smiling through a busted lip, just shakes his head.~
"Peter Vaughn": The very fact... that you're seeing me right now, Peter... proves that you're lying to yourself. You care. You care a LOT. I'll be seeing you again, Peter.
Peter Vaughn: Screw you... Peter.
~With that, Vaughn jumps into his double, twisting to land the Revenged on him!!! With the man laid out, Vaughn wipes a hand across his face, realizing that his nose is bleeding. It's strange, because Vaughn doesn't even remember taking a shot to the face. He stumbles away, heading for the alley exit... as a police vehicle pulls up, its lights blazing. Vaughn stops in place, immediately reaching up to try and wipe the blood away and make himself look respectable as the officer jumps out of his vehicle.~
Peter Vaughn: Hello, ummm, officer. Er, nothing to worry about here, as you can plainly see. I'm sure people heard noises, but... that's... part of my training?
~Vaughn shrugs his shoulders, trying to cover up, but the officer doesn't seem to be fooled. He looks behind Vaughn, hitting his radio button.~
Police Officer: This is Collins, I've got a 10-51! Send an ambulance to Rawlings & Main!
~Confused, Vaughn looks back over his shoulder... and sees that the downed man is still there. The only problem is, he no longer looks remotely like Peter Vaughn. He's also a bloody mess, due to a nasty cut on his forehead, likely from the edge of a dumpster. Vaughn steps back against the wall, sighing.~
Peter Vaughn: ... I knew he felt too real. Damn it.
~Vaughn shakes his head and waits to be arrested, as the other officer moves over to him, handcuffs in his grasp.~
Time to make a list of what's real and what's not, I suppose.
1) I'm the WGWF World Champion, and have defended it against every worthy contender (and Ace Sky) since I won it. That's real.
2) I proved I'm the best wrestler in the WGWF with my victory at the Captain's Battle Royale, and I would have gladly thrown you out as well if that had been necessary. That's real, too, even though I know you'd deny it. I mean, your back was turned from throwing out Adams. You would have been gone for sure.
3) I've built a reputation over the last two years, knocking away the doubts that the XWF Universal Title run caused me. People now respect my wrestling abilities, even if they don't respect the man. I've managed to thrive in SPITE of you, Jimmy. That is, definitely, real.
4) You are on your own little redemption tour, trying to put that incident behind you as well. You haven't managed it quite yet, though. And if I have my way, you won't make it there at my expense. That's damn real.
5) My victory is guaranteed over you at Brawl this Monday night. Okay, that one's not a real fact, I'll admit. Accidents happen, and I obviously can't promise that I'm going to win. But I certainly plan on giving you a hell of a fight, kicking your ass from pillar to post and getting in every single shot I can, legal or not.
I refuse to accept your reality, Jimmy. Mine is the only one that matters. And in the end? It's going to have me standing victorious over you, one way or another. Prepare for the war before the war, Jimmy.
And prepare to take the Plunge.
~We return to the alleyway once again, this time with an ambulance sitting there. We see Vaughn sitting in the back, getting his head looked at as a technician waves a light back and forth in front of his eyes. He raises his hand up.~
Technician: How many fingers do you see?
Peter Vaughn: ... I see you're a wrestling fan. That'd be one finger, boyo.
~The technician laughs before lowering his hand.~
Technician: Sorry, couldn't help myself. I'm a big fan of yours, Mr. Vaughn. I think you're alright, although I might recommend a CT scan due to that nosebleed.
Peter Vaughn: Nah, you know, I think I'll be fine. So, uh, what's the story with that guy?
~The tech looks over at where they're carting out the man who attacked Vaughn, taking him over towards a police vehicle. He's conscious now, mumbling as he looks around wildly.~
Technician: From what I heard, they've been looking for this guy. He's been attacking people for a few days now. He's probably high on something, or just had a mental breakdown. Either way, he really picked the wrong stranger to assault this time, didn't he?
Peter Vaughn: What's going to happen to him?
Technician: It depends. He'll at least spend some time locked in a padded cell, I bet. That's what they tend to do when someone's lost their marbles, y'know?
Peter Vaughn: ... Yeah.
~Vaughn stands up, stepping around the ambulance door to watch as the police vehicle pulls away, with the unknown assailant inside. For a second, Vaughn almost thinks he sees himself in there instead, but that quickly fades. Vaughn shakes his head, raising a hand up to his face. It comes away bloody, as his nose is once again bleeding...~
~We fade out to the sound of sirens blaring, always a signal of danger ahead.~