Post by Deleted on Mar 20, 2013 21:25:52 GMT -6
Some claim the glass is half full. Others say it's half empty, but there's one major flaw in both cases. Each one fails to point out the obvious. That without solidity, a glass can support no amount of water. Be it half full or half empty. Right now, that is Styles Mafia. Solid. A cup, that no matter how much liquid is poured in, can still remain just that; a cup. However, why is it that I'm the only member of the group with an uneasy feeling? The only one who can see the darkness closing in on all fronts. Who can feel it's cold, unforgiving grip tightening? Why are my dreams of the future depicting a kingdom's fall, rather than it's rise?
Perhaps it’s just me. My imagination does run wild from time to time, so maybe I can just dismiss this as such and sweep it under the nearest rug? After all, we grew infinitely stronger at Ignite. Johnny joined our ranks. He and Hunter resurrected Domestik Disturbance. Jesse became the World Champion. Whether it was controversial, or not, doesn’t matter. We made it pretty clear who the dominant group was. And we had no intention of stopping until all who challenged our rule were bowing at OUR feet. Even so, there’s a feeling I just can’t shake. It all began during my flight back to the states from Germany.
Call it a warning. Call it a premonition. Call it me losing my damned mind. But I heard a voice. One that was recognizable only to ME. At first, I thought it couldn’t be possible. It was as if the ghosts from yesterday were reaching out. As if they were attempting to reconnect with me on some level. As if they were trying to grab hold of me and drag me back to the darkest corners of my past, and all for their own selfish gain.
And now, to make matters worse..I find myself doing the one thing I’d neglected to do since..well, since my childhood. This confusion was overwhelming, to such a degree, that I found myself in our (Spaz and I) hotel bathroom. Staring at photographs that were taped to the mirror. One with Cera, one with Valora, one with Emily Koresh. My eyes couldn’t stay fixated on a particular one for an extended period of time. Seeing these women clad in their skin tight wrestling attire, or lack thereof, (in Cera’s case) brought all sorts of weird thoughts to the forefront.
In the forty one years I’d been alive, I never once thought about pleasuring myself to revealing pictures of women. Maybe to a mass slaughtering of lambs. Maybe to the sight of an ant being fried underneath a magnifying glass, but never like this.
Right now, my hands didn’t belong to me. They were slowly undoing my belt buckle, and then pulling it out from the loops in which it sat in. As my jeans fell to the bathroom floor, my hands started to tug on my boxers. Slowly pulling them down. Inching ever so close to the point where my penis was going to flop out from the recoil.
Is this really what someone like me does? Masturbate, like the rest of the pathetic souls that wander this God forsaken planet? What’s next? I relinquish the title of ‘Monster’, retire from this industry, settle down, somehow, through some divine miracle, find a woman to make my wife, have children, live happily ever after? No, FUCK THAT! I simply won’t tolerate such cowardly behavior. I’m in the middle of a war! And I’m also the deadliest weapon being used in this war. There’s no room for weakness. No room for a soft heart. It’s kill or be killed. The weak die, the strong live.
“Hazzy cat, ya’ in there?”
Oh, this just keeps getting better and better. I mean, here I am...boxers at my knees, pants around my ankles, my erect penis in my left hand. Thoughts of exploring every nook and cranny of these three women playing out through my reflection in the mirror. Bottom line is, he needs to stay on THAT side of the door until I’m finished. Of all the problems I was going through, this was one I’d like to prevent..at all costs.
“Aye! Earth to Hazzy! I need to use the shitter!”
Persistent as ever. Through all the years we’d been running together, you’d think...somewhere, in that frame of time, I’d be entitled to five minutes alone. More now than ever before. He started to pound on the door, clearing growing impatient..and increasingly annoyed with the fact that I was blatantly ignoring him.
“Yo! Let me in! I’m seriously bout’ to crap my pants!”
In some sort of alternate reality, I could picture him wearing something below the waist. However, facts were facts. He never wore pants, because he knew his penis was a sex symbol for the sole reason that it was massive..and shit, here I am..thinking about my manager’s dick while I’m trying to ...I guess while I’m trying to beat mine off? I’m new to this..I don’t know the fucking mannerisms!
“Spaz.. give me a few, please?”
My tone was calm yet stern. Although, on the inside, my blood was starting to boil. I could hear his movements through the door. Footsteps which were growing faint with each one. Signs that he had finally complied and was going to honor my request. Better speed this up. Otherwise the worst case scenario would be something I’d never live down.. Hazard, the Monster of New Edge and the chronic masturbator of the Styles Mafia. Unacceptable.
“Here comes zee’ boom, daddy-o!!!”
Fuck...Footsteps were heard again as the next thing I knew, the door was kicked clear off it’s hinges and now leaning against me. The pictures fell off the mirror from the sudden burst of wind caused by Spaz kicking in the door. Then there was me..a now limp penis in my hand. My clothes on the floor or near it. Worst of all, though, was the fact that the ONE person I didn’t want to see my like this..just fucking saw me like this. Wonderful...No, really, this is spec-fucking-tacular.
“You imbecile!!!”
His facial expression spoke volumes. That damn near toothless smile peeking through his rainbow colored mask. His eyes bigger than softballs. A ridiculously long cackle followed next as I scurried to pull my underwear up, as well as my black jeans. I bucked the door off me as it fell against the shower doors and then fell to the floor. Good, now there was nothing to prevent me grabbing that idiotic bastard by his throat! I took a few steps toward Spaz.
“Whoa, easy there big fellah..”
He said while backing up, holding both arms up with palms out, as if to surrender. In response to this action, I cracked the knuckles on both of my fists and continued to walk toward him. Spaz leaned to the side to get a better look at the photos that were now scattered about on the bathroom floor. His jaw suddenly became agape as he was now completely ignoring me and rushed by. He quickly snatched up the picture of Cera and then pointed at me.
“How’d ya’ get this one?! Jen Jen gave me this, Hazzy!! Ya’ stinking thief, you!”
Is that where it came from? Whatever..this is no time to worry about the details. I clearly wasn’t myself as of late. It was pretty easy to put on a front when the rest of the Mafia were around, but when Spaz and I were left to ourselves, that’s when shit got weird.
After taking a couple of deep breaths, I ran a hand through my jet black hair, exposing the nasty battle scar covering a majority of my left eye. Afterwards, taking a seat on one of the beds in out hotel room. Truth be told, I didn’t have the energy to rip Spaz apart at the moment. My mind had no direction. I couldn’t translate thought into action.. Once more, was THAT the cause? Perhaps next time it surfaced, I’d ask?
“Man o’ man, buddy Bob.. Ya’ been pretty fugucked up here lately..ya’ know?”
“I’m aware..but thanks for stating the obvious, Spaz.”
“Maybe yer goin’ crazy like that Drake Blake?”
Crazy? Yeah, that’s definitely him. A man, who goes to war with the voices inside his head everyday. As far as me? Not even close. My ‘episodes’, if you want to call them that, were far less frequent. Far more random. Far more profound. I hunched forward, placing both hands on my knees, trying to figure out what the hell was happening to me. That’s when the one question I didn’t want to hear right now popped up.
“So whatcha’ gonna do bout’ that Aiden Vaughn person, Hazzy? Ya’ know he’s yer opponent this week.”
The Natural, huh? Right, Scarlet’s stalker. The same man I damn near put through the stage with a 13th Floor. Which was carried out simply because Jesse asked me to. Aiden had gotten quite pushy with Jesse’s wife so hey, the man got fed up. He called upon the muscle of the Mafia and I answered. Now I wonder, what would happen if I had free reign? Against a pathetic excuse for a man like him?
(“Sounds like someone I know of quite well, doesn’t it, old friend?”)
There you are, bastard. I’ve been waiting for you. We have a lot to discuss, like for starters, what the fuck do you want from me?
(“The same thing I’ve always wanted, Hazard...control.”)
How amusing. You, control me? HAZARD?! Are you fucking mad? I’d be better off letting Hunter Valentyne sit in the rafters and pull my strings like I’m his fucking puppet. Fact is, if you want control, you aren’t going to get it that easily!! I’m finally somewhere I belong. I won’t let you take that from me!!
(“I’ll secure it much easier than your inferior mind seems to believe. All I need is time, Hazard. Sooner or later, you’ll have to face me. We both know you’re nothing but a shell of your former self. Hunter tried to reincarnate the Monster and he failed.. Why do you think that is?”)
Do I look like someone who gives a fuck? All I know is.. you’re starting to REALLY DRIVE ME CRAZY! Is that what you want, you selfish prick? To take one of the few things left? My sanity?!
(“When you lose all sanity.. I win, Hazard. That’s what you fail to comprehend.”)
No, moron..you’re wrong. When my sanity is gone, we both lose. Remember that.
(“You’ll see, old friend. In due time, you’ll realize that you’re wrong about quite a few things. Until then, enjoy being destroyed from within.”)
Yeah? Well, until that fateful day, you can enjoy NOT being in control. You insignificant whelp!
“Hazzy?”
Spaz snapped right in my face as this broke my inner conflict.. Damn that voice. But at least this time, I got the answers I wanted. Progress is still progress. I turned, now facing my manager. A wicked grin on my face.
“That’s what it wants, Spaz. I’ve finally got it figured out.”
“Wha?”
He was out of the loop, but that’s to be expected. I stood from the bed and paced over to the window, peering out. As I took in the surroundings, Spaz reverted back to his original question.
“So....Aiden Vaughn?”
As I’d done millions of time in the past, I folded both arms across my chest and let out a brief laugh.
“You actually think I’m concerned about that piss ant?”
“But ya’ know..he’s out chasin Scar..all day, uurrrday.”
“Urr...what?”
The hell was he rambling on about now? I glanced back, a somewhat puzzled look on my face as if I couldn’t understand his weird ass dialect, which I’ll be honest. In some cases, I doubt even Spaz could understand the dribble that would fall out of his mouth.
“It’s ebonics, nigguh.”
Putting aside his random episode of thinking he’s Tupac Shakur (too soon? doubt it..), it sort of made sense? Aiden Vaughn is far too preoccupied with what Scarlet’s wearing to concentrate on the battle ahead.
“Well, Spaz..unlike me, Vaughn doesn’t quite get what he’s walking into come Ignite. See, I’m well aware of the darkness closing in on me.. He isn’t. That’s the difference, and ultimately, will lead to his undoing.”
“But then there’s Inky Poo and Pughbear, ya know? Can’t forget bout’ those stud muffins.”
That’s right. Tat n’ Fat. In my current state, I’d nearly forgotten about Pugh and his little pitbull Inkt, who for the second time in as many weeks, decided it was a wise idea to spear me. They’d be dealt with soon enough, but while I could actually put rational thoughts together, I really needed to focus on my opponent at Ignite. The Mafia doesn’t tolerate weak links and I wanted to prove, if nothing else, I was the LAST person they would look down on as being just that.. weak. Feeble. Unable to carry my own weight.
First, Aiden Vaughn would learn a very painful lesson. That when you fuck with Jesse’s property, if he doesn’t want to deal with you himself, that’s not a good thing at all. Then, once that’s behind me, I can fry much bigger fish.
“They’ll get theirs, Spaz. Trust me.”
Spaz nodded, then looked down at the naked picture of Cera. He then looked up at me, trying not to laugh.
“So..was Cera Bear a good lay, babe?”
“You’re dead!”
I screamed while chasing Spaz out of the hotel room and out of view. Stupid bastard just couldn’t leave it lie, could he? Who am I kidding? He’s Spaz and for good reason.
- Fade