Trauma Bonds That Bind... What's that bell for?
Aug 23, 2024 3:01:38 GMT -5
Ezra Gideon, "Cholo" Giovanni Santana, and 2 more like this
Post by TheNewBreed on Aug 23, 2024 3:01:38 GMT -5
“What's happening now, John?” a soft feminine voice floats across his mind.
“I can see them coming down the ramp... it's just Sean and one of his cronies... I still have to deal with this guy in the ring with me, but I know I'm running out of time before they get there. I'm not gonna be able to put this guy down and defend against these two at the same time... I know it. The crony hit the apron and rolls under the rope... Sean heads towards the other side where the stairs are. The guy I was fighting rushes me and I duck the clothesline... but the crony gets up and now they both rush me. I sidestep and drive them into each other... but Corvik cracks me with something. Whatever he hit me with, it's hard... my head's ringing... my vision's swimming... and he hits me again... the world is tilting... the lights are fading out. I can't hear the crowd anymore...” John mutter softly as he sees it play out before him in his mind as he blinks and lists sideways just a bit as the feelings of that night all those years ago wash over him once more.
“Don't let your vision waver here, John. You aren't dizzy. You aren't being attacked here, John. You are just seeing what you saw then. They can't hurt you again, John. Just keep watching, and see what happens next. Tell me what you see there in the ring with you.” the feminine voice urges softly.
“I can hear her screaming... Jess is there. She isn't supposed to be here. Aaron was supposed to keep her out of the building that night... why did he let her come here? She hopped over the barrier and slid into the ring behind Sean right before he cracked me again... she grabbed his arm to try to protect me... she should have stayed away.” John's voice filled with terror then.
“What did Sean do next, John? What do you see?” the woman asked him, probing him to keep going through the memory.
“I'm reeling from he first couple shots... I can see her there... shes cowering now, in the corner... she's so afraid. I don't know why she didn't just let me handle the Royal Family on my own. She knew how dangerous they were.” John mutters trying to piece together her reasoning for not doing what she was supposed to. Terror rose in his voice as he spoke, softly at first, but soon, all that changed.
“What's happening now, John?” the woman's voice floated in again.
“Sean backhanded her. She fell on the mat, and then he turned back to me. I can see the brass knuckles on both his fists now... my vision is starting to clear... but the other two are up again, and grab me by the shoulders. Sean is grinning at me... that fucking sadistic smile he always had when he was enjoying his work... and the other two set me up for Sean to tee off on. God those knuckles hurt so bad. My face explodes as he hits me... my eyes start to swell shut almost immediately. I can taste my blood in my mouth... and my nose is a wreck. I can't breath right... I'm trying to get free of the other two... I know if I don't... I struggle to my feet... they try to knock me over again, but I know what it means if I don't get Jessica out of here.” John struggles to choke the words out now... the terror driving him in his mind. His breathing picks up pace, and before long he start to hyperventilate.
“John... I need you to stay calm. They aren't here... they can't hurt you or Jessica.” the females voice says soothingly, but the words don't register to John. To him... it's very real... all over again.
The cheers and jeers of the bloodthirsty EWCL Fans roar out drowning the commentary team and the security guards shouting all around the ring now. This I what they came to see. Sean Corvik had promised that if John showed up tonight there would be a special surprise for him, and he meant it. John knew what Sean was capable of, and he had told Jessica to stay at the hotel with the security guards for a damned good reason. Aaron had promised him that he would keep her there, and wouldn't let her do anything stupid... and THIS WAS STUPID. Sean Corvik was a monster of comic book proportions if ever there was a man who could claim it. There was nothing too deranged, and never did he find a thing that could be done to another person for his own pleasure to be too demented to be the right thing to do in the moment. He was a psychotic hedonist... and there was no line he wouldn't cross to have a laugh. His merriment was his only delight... and he didn't not like to be delighted for long.
“Leave her alone you fucking freak!” John screamed in the face of the woman who sat across the small cherry wood coffee table between them in her office. She clutched at the string of delicate pearls that hung from the slightly aged and spotted skin of her neck as they draped across the neckline of her stark white blouse. Her hands were wrinkled and spotted like her neck and face, her hair in a tight gray bun at the back of her head, and her light green eyes were wide in shock behind her thin wire framed glasses perched on the end of her nose. John's rage in the moment was not something she was prepared to deal with during this exploratory exercise, and just then... she didn't think she was right woman for this particular job.
“J... John! Corvik is NOT here, and you are NOT in danger! J... Jessica is not in danger! I need you to remember we are just exploring your m... m... memories... and this is not happening right now. They can't hurt you or your w... wife!” the woman pleads loudly, hoping to catch John before his rage spills over and he loses control.
Now it was her who was terrified.
“I SAID LEAVE HER ALONE YOU FUCKING FREAK!” John bellowed as he yanked his arms forward as if breaking free from his captors, now entirely lost in the moment from all those years ago. He shot up off of the chair and knocked the table over as the woman leaps over the back of the couch with a shriek of fear.
As John shot forward towards Corvik, three more of his goons rolled into the ring and jumped between them, but John could barely see what was happening. His eyes had nearly swelled completely shut by now, and he was little more than a whirlwind of wild, blind rage. He was violence incarnate, flailing his arms and legs in the directions he could see blurry movement, some connecting, and some flying past his attackers, but all of them dangerous in his reckless abandon.
One of the men gets clubbed in the head with a wild swing from the Beast, and topples to the floor through the ropes, while another cracks John in the back with a steel chair. Cable arches forward, and groans in pain as the third man cracks him in the face with a bright red fire extinguisher. The chair crashes down on him once more as John grabs at his face, the already damaged eye sockets and jaw were on fire with the pain. Again, the two men take turns hitting him with their implements of damage, and again... but this time, as the extinguisher collides with his ribs, John latches onto it with all of his might, and pulls it free from the man's hands.
The noise in the arena as the crowd watched the spectacle before them was a cacophonous roar that drown out all else... but to John... there was only ringing in his ears that filled his whole head it was so loud. Blurry shadows moved around him and he had lost sight of where Jessica had even gone at this point. The rage and terror warred within him then... wanting nothing more than to save his wife from the beating he was sure to follow this one and make sure she was safe... she should have been... she should have never been here.
Then the world exploded.
Sean Corvik had pulled a flare gun from across the ring, and shot the extinguisher in John's hands to the shock of everyone in attendance. In a moment, the roar of the crowd was silenced... and then screams filled the arena as the top of the extinguisher blew off, rocketing into the rafters. In the moments that followed... the contents of the extinguisher under pressure burst forth in a cloud of dust that consumed John and half of the ring with him. What would have normally been a white foam fire retardant, was instead granulated particles that shimmered in the bright lights. As the fine ground magnesium powder exploded from the tank, a spray of sparks from the flare burning away against John's chest ignited the dust, and a chemical chain reaction occurred that the wrestling world had never seen before.
The flare of bright white light was blinding. The dust ignited and the rest of what was left of the tank blew apart. Chunks of metal ripped through John's chest, neck and face with a white hot intensity that only lasted a moment as the fireball of magnesium powder enveloped John's face and chest before it was gone. In that flash of fire... the agony of torment from the burns and the shards of metal... John passed out, and fell upon the ring mat.
Corvik, shocked at the damage himself, took a moment to collect himself, then laughed a heinous chuckle of remorseless glee before he grabbed Jessica by the wrist, and dragged her from the ring flailing weakly in his grasp. The cronies were terrified at the gory scene they had just witnessed, and in that moment, if there were any doubt in their hearts about it before, they knew they belonged to Sean mind body and soul now.
The crowd watched on in numb terror as Sean dragged Jessica up the ramp trailed by his two remaining henchmen as John lay charred in the ring, tendrils of smoke curling up from his severely mangled flesh.
The woman screamed as John flailed around the office lost in the hypnosis. The chairs and table had been smashed in the onslaught of unbridled rage John has unleashed inside the small room and the woman was trying her best to try to get out of his range, but just as she thought this would be her end... John screamed out, grabbed his face... and then crumpled into a pile on the floor on top of the debris left in his wake.
Her heart was pounding in her chest as two massive men in scrubs burst through the door.
“Leslie... are you OK?” the first one said as he rushed to her side and started to check on her.
“I... I think so...” she answered shakily, the words tumbling across each other as they fell from her trembling lips.
“What happened in here? It sounded like someone turned a bull lose in here.” the other said as he looked down at John, laying in a disheveled pile on shards of woods and glass covering the floor. He reached down to check John's pulse, but the doctor saw him about to reach him and her eyes went wide in fear again.
“NO! Don't touch him. For the love of God... do NOT touch him. Call the Foundation Office and ask for the Citizen. Tell them you're calling for me and it's an emergency.” She orders softly as tremors take control of her hands and she begins to sob softly into the arms of the orderly.
Stone...
It's unfortunate that this war of mine has spilled into your neck of the woods... but here we are, and you know what my goal is.
You have a few options... and I'm not going to presume to tell you what they are, because like me... I am sure you know what this match means to everyone involved.
You have the odious responsibility to attempt to retain your IC Title while being thrust into the very heart of a war that has no limits and no end without proper punishment for the transgressors. It is not a position I envy for you, Max... but make no mistake of my intentions in South Florida.
I have the joyous opportunity to crush Clyde Newton beneath my foot one last time before I put him out of my misery once and for all. I have the chance to finally make Clyde Newton understand the folly of his errors, and ensure his damnation is thorough and complete. He will be the first effigy I burn in sacrifice to the new age of the WGWF, and you will have front row seats... but don't cross the line, Max. I will brook no interference from you or anyone else while I ensure the message for the Unfortunate Ones is loud and clear.
I have waited for someone else to silence the drivel spewed weekly by the likes of the Unfortunates, and while there was a lot of talk of taking the fight to them and putting them down like the dogs they are, when the time for words was over, those who stepped up failed time and time again. Those I supported in this war fell at my feet... fell prostrate before the might of the Unfortunates and the betrayal of Chris Page was the last straw for me.
I have a choice to make here, Max.
I can either give you one more chance to step up and prove to the world that you can get the job done...or I can do it myself.
We've already seen what you do with your opportunities... and I am damned tired of letting mine slip through my fingers.
How's that saying go, Max?
If you want something done right... do it yourself?
Heard, Max... Loud and clear.
And Clyde... well, as per usual... he has choices to make too.
He can choose to run and hide to hope to survive to fight another day at the side of his lord and master, JMont as per usual when the trail gets dicey... or he can finally come and step up... come and face my wrath... the wrath he incurred of his own volition... knowing full well that you have no intentions of losing that Title, not now, and damned sure not to fucking Clyde Newton, and that I want him DEAD.
You wanna talk about crossing a line Clyde?
Buddy boy... you didn't just cross one. You raced across it like it was the fucking salt flats and you were shooting for a land speed record.
It took me a long time to bottle that memory up and shove it as far down as I had gotten it... and you went and dug it up like a long lost treasure on one of Jetta's maps.
I can't even begin to describe to you what kind of mistake that was Clyde.
You can't even imagine the corner you've found yourself on, Clyde... but trust me... I'm going to show you.
I know you don't respect me, Clyde. I know you look at me as a washed up never was who doesn't pose a challenge to you... or anyone else for that matter... but none of what you think matters now, boy.
None of your arrogance and cocky fronting for the cameras matters anymore... none of your gesticulating and bravado makes a difference... none of your words mean a damned thing.
The only thing that matters now, Clyde, is your fortitude and your endurance.
Do you have what it takes to face me when there are no rules... and still come out with any of your soul in tact? Survival is what we're talking about here, Clyde... and I know you think this is all some kinda sitcom where the punchline will come any time now... but you're wrong.
There isn't anything funny about what I'm going to do to you at Summer Madness... because just like Last Chance... they named the fucking show after me.
Summer Madness...
You're walking into the madness that is the Beast, Clyde Newton... and you have no idea what's in store for you, even if you think you do.
This goes all the way back to my roots, Clyde... no holds barred... no rules... no DQ... no count out...falls count anywhere. This is just like the cage fights of my youth... where I murdered men who took liberties with their flagrant disrespect and disregard for those I cared about. I cut my teeth in this business on Hardcore Titles with men who's mere presence would make you piss your pants.
You, Clyde... have been a disrespectful little bitch and come Summer Madness... you're going to find out just how much pain I can inflict on one man before he dies... and I intend to drag it out as long as I can... just so you get the only message you need to learn this Summer, Newton...
The Beast is not to be trifled with. I am not the man you think I am.
I am a monster...and you've earned it.
Come claim your prize, Clyde... and find out what nightmares this task truly entails.
“I can see them coming down the ramp... it's just Sean and one of his cronies... I still have to deal with this guy in the ring with me, but I know I'm running out of time before they get there. I'm not gonna be able to put this guy down and defend against these two at the same time... I know it. The crony hit the apron and rolls under the rope... Sean heads towards the other side where the stairs are. The guy I was fighting rushes me and I duck the clothesline... but the crony gets up and now they both rush me. I sidestep and drive them into each other... but Corvik cracks me with something. Whatever he hit me with, it's hard... my head's ringing... my vision's swimming... and he hits me again... the world is tilting... the lights are fading out. I can't hear the crowd anymore...” John mutter softly as he sees it play out before him in his mind as he blinks and lists sideways just a bit as the feelings of that night all those years ago wash over him once more.
“Don't let your vision waver here, John. You aren't dizzy. You aren't being attacked here, John. You are just seeing what you saw then. They can't hurt you again, John. Just keep watching, and see what happens next. Tell me what you see there in the ring with you.” the feminine voice urges softly.
“I can hear her screaming... Jess is there. She isn't supposed to be here. Aaron was supposed to keep her out of the building that night... why did he let her come here? She hopped over the barrier and slid into the ring behind Sean right before he cracked me again... she grabbed his arm to try to protect me... she should have stayed away.” John's voice filled with terror then.
“What did Sean do next, John? What do you see?” the woman asked him, probing him to keep going through the memory.
“I'm reeling from he first couple shots... I can see her there... shes cowering now, in the corner... she's so afraid. I don't know why she didn't just let me handle the Royal Family on my own. She knew how dangerous they were.” John mutters trying to piece together her reasoning for not doing what she was supposed to. Terror rose in his voice as he spoke, softly at first, but soon, all that changed.
“What's happening now, John?” the woman's voice floated in again.
“Sean backhanded her. She fell on the mat, and then he turned back to me. I can see the brass knuckles on both his fists now... my vision is starting to clear... but the other two are up again, and grab me by the shoulders. Sean is grinning at me... that fucking sadistic smile he always had when he was enjoying his work... and the other two set me up for Sean to tee off on. God those knuckles hurt so bad. My face explodes as he hits me... my eyes start to swell shut almost immediately. I can taste my blood in my mouth... and my nose is a wreck. I can't breath right... I'm trying to get free of the other two... I know if I don't... I struggle to my feet... they try to knock me over again, but I know what it means if I don't get Jessica out of here.” John struggles to choke the words out now... the terror driving him in his mind. His breathing picks up pace, and before long he start to hyperventilate.
“John... I need you to stay calm. They aren't here... they can't hurt you or Jessica.” the females voice says soothingly, but the words don't register to John. To him... it's very real... all over again.
* * * * *
The cheers and jeers of the bloodthirsty EWCL Fans roar out drowning the commentary team and the security guards shouting all around the ring now. This I what they came to see. Sean Corvik had promised that if John showed up tonight there would be a special surprise for him, and he meant it. John knew what Sean was capable of, and he had told Jessica to stay at the hotel with the security guards for a damned good reason. Aaron had promised him that he would keep her there, and wouldn't let her do anything stupid... and THIS WAS STUPID. Sean Corvik was a monster of comic book proportions if ever there was a man who could claim it. There was nothing too deranged, and never did he find a thing that could be done to another person for his own pleasure to be too demented to be the right thing to do in the moment. He was a psychotic hedonist... and there was no line he wouldn't cross to have a laugh. His merriment was his only delight... and he didn't not like to be delighted for long.
* * * * *
“Leave her alone you fucking freak!” John screamed in the face of the woman who sat across the small cherry wood coffee table between them in her office. She clutched at the string of delicate pearls that hung from the slightly aged and spotted skin of her neck as they draped across the neckline of her stark white blouse. Her hands were wrinkled and spotted like her neck and face, her hair in a tight gray bun at the back of her head, and her light green eyes were wide in shock behind her thin wire framed glasses perched on the end of her nose. John's rage in the moment was not something she was prepared to deal with during this exploratory exercise, and just then... she didn't think she was right woman for this particular job.
“J... John! Corvik is NOT here, and you are NOT in danger! J... Jessica is not in danger! I need you to remember we are just exploring your m... m... memories... and this is not happening right now. They can't hurt you or your w... wife!” the woman pleads loudly, hoping to catch John before his rage spills over and he loses control.
Now it was her who was terrified.
“I SAID LEAVE HER ALONE YOU FUCKING FREAK!” John bellowed as he yanked his arms forward as if breaking free from his captors, now entirely lost in the moment from all those years ago. He shot up off of the chair and knocked the table over as the woman leaps over the back of the couch with a shriek of fear.
* * * * *
As John shot forward towards Corvik, three more of his goons rolled into the ring and jumped between them, but John could barely see what was happening. His eyes had nearly swelled completely shut by now, and he was little more than a whirlwind of wild, blind rage. He was violence incarnate, flailing his arms and legs in the directions he could see blurry movement, some connecting, and some flying past his attackers, but all of them dangerous in his reckless abandon.
One of the men gets clubbed in the head with a wild swing from the Beast, and topples to the floor through the ropes, while another cracks John in the back with a steel chair. Cable arches forward, and groans in pain as the third man cracks him in the face with a bright red fire extinguisher. The chair crashes down on him once more as John grabs at his face, the already damaged eye sockets and jaw were on fire with the pain. Again, the two men take turns hitting him with their implements of damage, and again... but this time, as the extinguisher collides with his ribs, John latches onto it with all of his might, and pulls it free from the man's hands.
The noise in the arena as the crowd watched the spectacle before them was a cacophonous roar that drown out all else... but to John... there was only ringing in his ears that filled his whole head it was so loud. Blurry shadows moved around him and he had lost sight of where Jessica had even gone at this point. The rage and terror warred within him then... wanting nothing more than to save his wife from the beating he was sure to follow this one and make sure she was safe... she should have been... she should have never been here.
Then the world exploded.
Sean Corvik had pulled a flare gun from across the ring, and shot the extinguisher in John's hands to the shock of everyone in attendance. In a moment, the roar of the crowd was silenced... and then screams filled the arena as the top of the extinguisher blew off, rocketing into the rafters. In the moments that followed... the contents of the extinguisher under pressure burst forth in a cloud of dust that consumed John and half of the ring with him. What would have normally been a white foam fire retardant, was instead granulated particles that shimmered in the bright lights. As the fine ground magnesium powder exploded from the tank, a spray of sparks from the flare burning away against John's chest ignited the dust, and a chemical chain reaction occurred that the wrestling world had never seen before.
The flare of bright white light was blinding. The dust ignited and the rest of what was left of the tank blew apart. Chunks of metal ripped through John's chest, neck and face with a white hot intensity that only lasted a moment as the fireball of magnesium powder enveloped John's face and chest before it was gone. In that flash of fire... the agony of torment from the burns and the shards of metal... John passed out, and fell upon the ring mat.
Corvik, shocked at the damage himself, took a moment to collect himself, then laughed a heinous chuckle of remorseless glee before he grabbed Jessica by the wrist, and dragged her from the ring flailing weakly in his grasp. The cronies were terrified at the gory scene they had just witnessed, and in that moment, if there were any doubt in their hearts about it before, they knew they belonged to Sean mind body and soul now.
The crowd watched on in numb terror as Sean dragged Jessica up the ramp trailed by his two remaining henchmen as John lay charred in the ring, tendrils of smoke curling up from his severely mangled flesh.
* * * * *
The woman screamed as John flailed around the office lost in the hypnosis. The chairs and table had been smashed in the onslaught of unbridled rage John has unleashed inside the small room and the woman was trying her best to try to get out of his range, but just as she thought this would be her end... John screamed out, grabbed his face... and then crumpled into a pile on the floor on top of the debris left in his wake.
Her heart was pounding in her chest as two massive men in scrubs burst through the door.
“Leslie... are you OK?” the first one said as he rushed to her side and started to check on her.
“I... I think so...” she answered shakily, the words tumbling across each other as they fell from her trembling lips.
“What happened in here? It sounded like someone turned a bull lose in here.” the other said as he looked down at John, laying in a disheveled pile on shards of woods and glass covering the floor. He reached down to check John's pulse, but the doctor saw him about to reach him and her eyes went wide in fear again.
“NO! Don't touch him. For the love of God... do NOT touch him. Call the Foundation Office and ask for the Citizen. Tell them you're calling for me and it's an emergency.” She orders softly as tremors take control of her hands and she begins to sob softly into the arms of the orderly.
* * * * *
Stone...
It's unfortunate that this war of mine has spilled into your neck of the woods... but here we are, and you know what my goal is.
You have a few options... and I'm not going to presume to tell you what they are, because like me... I am sure you know what this match means to everyone involved.
You have the odious responsibility to attempt to retain your IC Title while being thrust into the very heart of a war that has no limits and no end without proper punishment for the transgressors. It is not a position I envy for you, Max... but make no mistake of my intentions in South Florida.
I have the joyous opportunity to crush Clyde Newton beneath my foot one last time before I put him out of my misery once and for all. I have the chance to finally make Clyde Newton understand the folly of his errors, and ensure his damnation is thorough and complete. He will be the first effigy I burn in sacrifice to the new age of the WGWF, and you will have front row seats... but don't cross the line, Max. I will brook no interference from you or anyone else while I ensure the message for the Unfortunate Ones is loud and clear.
I have waited for someone else to silence the drivel spewed weekly by the likes of the Unfortunates, and while there was a lot of talk of taking the fight to them and putting them down like the dogs they are, when the time for words was over, those who stepped up failed time and time again. Those I supported in this war fell at my feet... fell prostrate before the might of the Unfortunates and the betrayal of Chris Page was the last straw for me.
I have a choice to make here, Max.
I can either give you one more chance to step up and prove to the world that you can get the job done...or I can do it myself.
We've already seen what you do with your opportunities... and I am damned tired of letting mine slip through my fingers.
How's that saying go, Max?
If you want something done right... do it yourself?
Heard, Max... Loud and clear.
And Clyde... well, as per usual... he has choices to make too.
He can choose to run and hide to hope to survive to fight another day at the side of his lord and master, JMont as per usual when the trail gets dicey... or he can finally come and step up... come and face my wrath... the wrath he incurred of his own volition... knowing full well that you have no intentions of losing that Title, not now, and damned sure not to fucking Clyde Newton, and that I want him DEAD.
You wanna talk about crossing a line Clyde?
Buddy boy... you didn't just cross one. You raced across it like it was the fucking salt flats and you were shooting for a land speed record.
It took me a long time to bottle that memory up and shove it as far down as I had gotten it... and you went and dug it up like a long lost treasure on one of Jetta's maps.
I can't even begin to describe to you what kind of mistake that was Clyde.
You can't even imagine the corner you've found yourself on, Clyde... but trust me... I'm going to show you.
I know you don't respect me, Clyde. I know you look at me as a washed up never was who doesn't pose a challenge to you... or anyone else for that matter... but none of what you think matters now, boy.
None of your arrogance and cocky fronting for the cameras matters anymore... none of your gesticulating and bravado makes a difference... none of your words mean a damned thing.
The only thing that matters now, Clyde, is your fortitude and your endurance.
Do you have what it takes to face me when there are no rules... and still come out with any of your soul in tact? Survival is what we're talking about here, Clyde... and I know you think this is all some kinda sitcom where the punchline will come any time now... but you're wrong.
There isn't anything funny about what I'm going to do to you at Summer Madness... because just like Last Chance... they named the fucking show after me.
Summer Madness...
You're walking into the madness that is the Beast, Clyde Newton... and you have no idea what's in store for you, even if you think you do.
This goes all the way back to my roots, Clyde... no holds barred... no rules... no DQ... no count out...falls count anywhere. This is just like the cage fights of my youth... where I murdered men who took liberties with their flagrant disrespect and disregard for those I cared about. I cut my teeth in this business on Hardcore Titles with men who's mere presence would make you piss your pants.
You, Clyde... have been a disrespectful little bitch and come Summer Madness... you're going to find out just how much pain I can inflict on one man before he dies... and I intend to drag it out as long as I can... just so you get the only message you need to learn this Summer, Newton...
The Beast is not to be trifled with. I am not the man you think I am.
I am a monster...and you've earned it.
Come claim your prize, Clyde... and find out what nightmares this task truly entails.