Devilkiller January 28th RP: I'm Fine Part 1

RP: I'm Fine Part One. (January 28)

*Devilkiller is sitting down at his principle like brown stained desk, papers scattered around. The only light from what looks like a 70's desk lamp with a green shade.

Newspaper clippings, copies of final text messages, and photos of the horrific scene, (like he really needs to see them again, he has it memorized, down to where the last drink he had was sitting on the table) spread over the desk. Devilkiller can't quit looking at the photos, it looks like some horrorshow type crap, but it's real, not from some 60's book.

Devilkiller shuffles through the papers, glancing at one before laying it down and picking another one up. He has his white earphones in listening to Eminem Survival, like doing so makes matters better.

He leans back, thinking of simpler times. He closes his eyes for a minute, enjoying the quietness. It's about 3 in the morning, Carter and Bella is asleep, hopefully dreaming of butterflies and gumdrops, while Devilkiller is reliving a nightmare.

He opens his eyes and shuffles the papers again, not really looking for a particular one but just searching through. The darkness is now evident as his light isn't as bright as once thought. Devilkiller puts his heads in his hands, thinking. This has been eating at him for a months now. He then goes into dream land.

*thinking and writing*It should've been me. It should've been me that was dead. It shouldn't have been my brother.. I deserved to die. He had much more to live for.. He wasn't able to have a family yet.. It sickens me. I then look down at the mess of what is my desk and throw the papers to the side.

I pull open my bottom drawer and get my Vodka, and spike a glass of Dr. Pepper with it, and down it. I feel the warmth spread through my body, reminding me of the feeling of feeling my brother for the last time, what little warmth he had left entering me, taking me to a new low.

Why am I forced into these situations? Why can't I just f*cking love my life? Without losing a family member? Ah, f*ck it. I take another big gulp of vodka, letting it roll over me in waves. I pick up one of the pictures, just forcing myself stare at it, making emotional scars.

3 Days Grace quoted once "it's not too late, it's never too late", well it IS too late. We can't "turn it all around", we can just barrel through. The one thing that is right in that song is "this world will never be, what I expected.." For who knew, who COULD know anything would happen? Some magical force sitting on a throne in the clouds? Yeah I'll believe that when I believe in this unworldly place called Earth.

Why am I rambling on? This is my conscience, I know what Im thinking. I don't have to spell it out.

But I am.. Eh, maybe it's nothing. The vodka giving me an edge, maybe that's why.

Why does it feel like everyone's my enemy? I don't want any part of anymore darkness, I'm sick and tired of this crap. I have decided I won't give up, I don't care about myself, or anyone else, I don't give a crap about anything. I'm infected with all of this, some sort if zombie I guess you could say. I wish my life was easier but you don't see me bitching.

But inside I am bitching. Inside I am angry. Every week I put on my paint too hide. From what? No one knows me, well except for Penny Shannon and Solomon Crow, no one else really knows me. For sure no one from the WFWF universe, so why should I hide? It's not like I have too.. Well really I do.

Insecurity is just one of my weaknesses. You get me in a room with a hot girl I stutter and end up hiding from her. I can't really do anything. I don't know how me and Bella have lasted this long, but don't I love her.. But she's not the main point, not this time.

I failed my brother. He went out a goddamn martyr, while I am left with the bridges I burned with him and his family, the bridges I can not rebuild. They haven't just burned, they have crumpled. They're in the ocean in millions of millions of pieces of ash and soot. This isn't how it was supposed to be.

It was going to be alright, I would have been able to save both, our relationship and his life. As I sit here, scrolling through my songs on my IPod, one that I keep clicking to listen to repeatedly is 3 Days Grace "Never Too Late", but as the drums resound, leading into the chorus, I realize how wrong they were. How they don't know the real meaning of living. How it's always too late.

The definition of living is not to become an expert or to make the most money, no, contrary to popular believe, that is. It isn't about making the "most" of your life, it's not about "love" or anything that social media influences in any shape or form no. It is strictly "survive, or get killed".

I look down at the white and grey carpet, looking at Carter's things. I slowly feel a tear fall, making a trail of salty water from my eye to my chin, where it ultimately drops off onto my jeans.

I feel as if I have let down more than one person. I feel it wasn't just my brother I let down or myself, but everyone. My family, my friends, hell I didn't show my face in WFWF for months because of it.. Should I be that insecure? Why can't I just be happy? Just live life?

This is why i separate my wrestling life from my real life. In real life, people don't love me, but I need that. I, like every other living breathing human being, crave love. That's why I do everything I can to make those fans happy. I need that. In real life people hate me, disgusted by a man who is as sick and twisted as I am.

I could care less, really. People love me, they love me. They don't, they don't. Which is why when I step in that ring, no longer am I Logan Caudill, I am the Devilkiller. A crazy man everyone loves. I'm no villain, I am simply a crooked hero, and everyone likes a relatable hero.

The things that I have done in this world is un-countable, but it makes me feel uncomfortable.. As if people look down on me for it. And they do, to be honest I mean, why in the hell would the mother of my child leave me? And when I took her to court she didn't really give a damn?

No, I'm not a man that harms their wife, no. Those kind of people make me sick. I think she left because she knew how far I would go for a title, and knew that if I ever caught her cheating it would be bad.

But she wasn't that type of girl. Now I catch myself reminiscing, though I shouldn't, she's a waste of time.

I am insecure by the fact I AM insecure. It's like I have some condition that makes me double insecure. That's why wrestling is my outlet.

For example, no one really believes I am hardcore, they think I'm some sort of Phillip Schneider wanna be. When I'm not (though I wouldn't mind a world title reign though), I'm actually a Devilkiller wanna be, because if you take the most hardcore match you have ever seen, and multiply 100 fold, that would be how far the persona, Devilkiller would go.

Me on the other hand I would go about 1/4 as hard as that hardcore match. The only hardcore thing I've done is MMA.

I think I have some type if split personality, because when that paint is on, I'm different. I'm not me, I am the Devilkiller, the Hardcore King.

With these last thoughts, I guess I will go to sleep, this is a glimpse into the mind of Logan Caudill, The Devilkiller.

And with that I close my journal. The one assigned by Mental Health (from my brothers suicide). I lay down my pen for now and lock it in my drawer, as if anyone saw it would be terrible, horrendous. If I'm not truthful in my writing, I can't get better, and if anyone knew the truth, I would never get better.

So I lock under lock and key. I glance at the clock which now reads 3:47, and I realize I should get sleep, as I have a plane too catch tomorrow.

I finish my spiked Dr. Pepper and lay on the black leather couch, not even bothering to go to my bedroom to sleep.*

-- 10 AM, day of Revolution --

*Devilkiller awakes in a quick manner, jumping up and automatically grabbing for his Glock under the couch side table, before realizing it's nothing just the sound of his family, enjoying themselves, playing a PS3 game or something of the sorts.

He puts the Glock back and retapes it up with Duck Tape. He looks at the good job he did of concealing one of his 6 Glocks hidden through out the house, before going into Carter's room.

He walks into the light baby boy blue room, the bright white ceiling fan not moving, (not in this weather) and his little SunBeam heater going at 75 degrees F. The plush carpet feels soft on his bare feet as he looks up at a Need for Speed franchise game being displayed over the 32 inch TV, then he looks down at his beautiful girlfriend, sitting on the floor like a kid, racing Carter

They look up and smile, and I just smile back, hurting out of love.*

DK: Come on, let's go.

*as he helps Bella up, Carter looks up towards his father*

Carter: Dad, can we play this first, please?

DK: No son, we really can't, but if you can get it unplugged and into a bag in under a minute, we'll take it and play it all night tonight after Revolution.

*Carter smiles really big before answering with a "Okay daddy" and racing to unplug the once $300 machine. Devilkiller smiles, watching his son tug the aux wires and unplugging the machine, and starts remembering last night.

He feels that cloud of depression sink in and he feels himself becoming battered, worn. He slowly excuses himself before going into the living room for some air.*

DK: *thinking*What is it with me? Why the hell is this happening? This isn't right! I have a match tonight! No. I will NOT give in not this time.

*Now as Devilkiller takes a deep breath, he looks at the white walls with family portraits lining them. He thinks of his brother one last time before forcing it to the back of his mind.*

As he is turning to go back into the bedroom, Bella and Carter are standing in the hallway, surprised.

DK: What?

Bella: Wha... What was that?

DK: What was what?

Bella: You talking to yourself.. What.. What's happening Logan?

DK: Bella.. I'm fine. Don't-

Bella: What was it Logan? Tell me dammit!

DK: Whoa hey, I don't have to answer to you! Now you can trust the man you've known for over 5 years and have been dating for 6 months, or you can walk out of that door and out of me and Carter's life. Which can you live with easier?

*as they argue, Carter slowly backs behind Bella, holding her close to him. She looks at Carter then at Devilkiller, before realizing what it is she has to do*

Bella: Logan. I love you. I love Carter, I just don't want you hurt.

DK: It's fine. We will talk more later.

*Bella opens her mouth to object, but decides better. Devilkiller grabs his bag and kisses her on the cheek*

DK: Thank you. *looks at Carter* come on bud, I have. Legend to face.

*Carter smiles at his father and grabs his bags and walks on out to the car, leaving the two "love birds" alone*

Bella: The only reason I dropped it is-

DK: Because if Carter. We will talk more later okay baby?

*Bella nods at this, examining Devilkiller's demeanor. Almost worried for him, before he reaches over and kisses her passionately, tongue sliding in and out like a snake, before pulling away*

DK: I won't hurt you. Come on now, let's just go get on the flight.

*Bella smiles and grabs her bag, walking out the door behind Devilkiller. They then drive to the airport in silence, everyone doing their own thing, music like Breaking Benjamin playing in the background is really the only sound. Then they get to the airport, where Bella sleeps, Carter watches a movie, and DK just listens to music and starts writing down ideas for wrestling. When they land they all climb over each other, trying to get out. Plus all if the obnoxious people pushing past them, it was cramped. The stench of chilli fries mixed with baby sh*t fills the air as they get off and grab their rental car waiting for them. Bella first drops Devilkiller off at the stadium before driving to the hotel room*

-- Revolution, 6:37 PM--

*As always Devilkiller is in a red tinted room, the mirror already stained with blood as the camera focus' on Devilkiller's reflection. He is wearing white, red, and black face paint, the eyes black like a raccoons, and the color of his pleather pants matching the face paint. His T-shirt promoting himself, with him in the middle of fire, before he looks up with a sinister look, not really a mean bad guy look, but a guy that takes no sh*t*

DK: I am a fire burning smokeless, undetectable, burning with such intensity and aggression, only growing hotter. Heat to the point where nothing can put it out, as water evaporates on contact. Fueled not by coal or fuel, but by vengance, desire, carnage, and pride. A controlled uncontrollable frenzy fire that will harm anything in its path, and l have let this fire consume me, for it is my motivation. Its time to quit being blind and see the fire in my eyes.

I am a time bomb, given the right circumstances, can implode any minute. I am not a mean guy, but I do what has to be done.

Given, it is in the realms of what I want to do. Burying a legend? Not necessarily what I have to do but if it's what has to be done, it is done.

Behind this paint, is not man, no. For I am not human. Inside, I am no human how can I be a human and be this hardcore, this sinister? I am sick of this. I am not one to complain about life, but I am in a predicament that allows me zero breathing room. I give parts of my body day in and day out in that WFWF ring. I can feel people here look down on me for being young. For being like this, for being me.

But I can't help that fact. I believe I am becoming a boffin. I am technically an expert when it comes to wrestling. By no means am I saying I'm the greatest no. I'm simply saying that in my first 5 months I held the title for almost, the same amount of time as Joe Bishop's legendary reign. That's not really a statement, what would be is putting down a pure bred horse. ZMaster, your the horse, and I'm the bullet.

See, I'm not the guy to go putting guys down, I don't like that, so in simply saying that it's time to let new talent take over. It's what everyone wants. Did you hear the crowd last week? Even if I am a sick freak when it comes to getting what I want, I love the fans. They are the reason why this is what it is.

When they cheer, they like someone, when they boo, they don't like them. Simple as that. Z, i was cheered. During our match, they will cheer me. At the end of our match, they will cheer me again.

Go out and pick a coffin, I'll buy it for ya.

*with that, Devilkiller winks before standing up and yet again, breaks the mirror, shattering his reflection as he walks out of the room*

----

OOC: I had a great time with this, this was a great write for me. ZMaster, goodluck man, may the best man win.