Post by Rated R on Nov 27, 2011 15:38:58 GMT -5
The clock flashes 3:30am and, just like every night of this past week, I’m awoken by the sounds of my crying daughter through the baby monitor. She always seems to wait for that moment where I’m most comfortable, the heat washing over me and taking me away from the troubles of the day. I lay there for a moment, quietly hoping that the tears will stop of their own accord but it’s a fruitless effort. The crying continues, echoing around our dark bedroom, drilling through my skull. I hear the bed creak beside me.
Trace Demon: I’ll go. You go back to sleep.
Alexa Jacobs: You’ve done every night this week. Have you even slept?
Trace Demon: I’ll sleep on the plane to the show.
Alexa Jacobs: I don’t even know how you’re still standing.
She forgets that she is talking to a man who spent two years popping pills and only ever sleeping when I was amongst the clouds. It may be my daughter that keeps me awake at night now but that isn’t a big deal, it’s just a triviality.
Trace Demon: Well I am, so go back to sleep and let me deal with it, okay? And just in case you think otherwise, I won’t be taking no for an answer.
She kisses me softly and I can feel the smile in the curvature of her lips. I know a lot of people whose relationships have broken apart because they’ve had a kid; tensions rise and patience wears thin, but we just seem to be getting stronger. I never thought fatherhood would suit me, I mean I call myself ‘Demon’ for Christ’s sake. But I guess I had to have some kind of talent outside of beating people to a pulp.
Trace Demon: Wait up for me?
Alexa Jacobs: Not a chance.
I smile and exit bed. Grabbing whatever clothes are nearest I walk towards the bedroom door. I open it and look back at Alexa. She still has that glow of a new mother, that radiance. It’s certainly strong enough to make me sound like a woman. Or like EBR. I close the door behind me quietly, entering into the kitchen. The remains of thanksgiving dinner are still on the table. I wouldn’t usually celebrate it, us Canadians have the real thanksgiving in October, but Alexa said it would be a perfect way to introduce the family to Eliza. I suppose it was nice in a way. I mean I had to put up with Eliza’s family, including her bat s**t mental mother, but it was nice to introduce Axel and Faith to their new niece. Although I wasn’t expecting the tears.
But that’s a brother for you.
I open the door into the nursery and switch the light on. I spent the better part of two months turning my old training room into this nursery. The yellow walls were Alexa’s decision, as was just about everything else, but I did all the hard work. Have you ever tried putting together a cot? No, didn’t think so. Which means you don’t know the horror I went through.
Trace Demon: What are we crying about this time then?
I switch the baby monitor off by the side of the cot. Last thing Alexa needs on top of Eliza’s crying is my attempts to stop it. I sit down on the chair I placed beside the cot seven days ago. I’ve spent at least an hour sitting here every night since we brought her home. Most would say I’m crazy. Hell, both Wayne and Malakai have already said exactly that. Professional wrestlers aren’t meant to be family men. We’re always travelling, always getting hurt, always doing something crazy that ends up on youtube. It’s just who we are, but as I look at my daughter I know that isn’t true.
I called up the directors last week, told them I wanted off the live show circuit for a few months. I’d still come in and do all the television and pay per view stuff but I couldn’t be on the road every single day, not right now. They tried to convince me otherwise but they couldn’t really say no. I haven’t missed an assigned date in four years. Even when I was popping pills or blind stinking drunk I’d turn up and put on a show. And it always was a show, both inside and outside that ring. So they gave me the time off. Had no choice.
I had to do it. Even without the live shows I’m away during the day at the gym or watching matches or just training. And then I have to fly off for a day or two a week to do the show. I got lucky this week, both my WFWF and XWA commitments fall within a day of each other so I’ve had a week at home, a week to spend with my girlfriend and new daughter. That’s why I’ve made the effort, why I’ve been the one up every night, the one doing all the hard graft. Because when I’m gone for two out of seven days every week it will be all down to Alexa. And that isn’t fair, but it’s the wrestling that’s funding the family. It’s the back and forth between WFWF and XWA that’s allowing us a good lifestyle. It’s all we’ve got right now.
Trace Demon: You’re going to drive me crazy, you know that?
Me just being here seems to calm her down. The tears come to a slow halt and she seems to look up at me, expecting me to say something. If she’s expecting me to have some kind of genius words of wisdom for her at this age she’s going to be sorely disappointed.
It’s strange, how easy it seems to be. I mean other than the complete lack of sleep and constant crying. Looking at her it’s obvious to me that Eliza is the one thing that makes my entire life a success. She is what has made me worthwhile. She’s everything that’s good and pure in a world gone mad. She’s everything that I wasn’t...
And to think, how different this could have been.
< *** >
TWO AND A HALF YEARS AGO
THREE MONTHS AFTER MEETING ANNA & KATHERINE
FIVE SECONDS AFTER BEING TOLD HE IS GOING TO BE A FATHER
Anna Dawson: Did you hear me babe? You’re going to be a father.
It’s hard to remember all of the thoughts that went through my mind at that moment. It was like a never ending flow of ever changing consciousness. Me, a father. I couldn’t even believe the sound of those words at the time. I couldn’t be a father. I was a junkie, addicted to pills and alcohol and girls and just being a general ass. I was everything that a father wasn’t meant to be.
I was, at that very moment, just like my own father. Except with the domestic violence.
Trace Demon: How... what... we... we used protection. You can’t be pregnant.
Anna Dawson: That second night, the one in the club...
Trace Demon: Oh god.
If you want any more proof about how foul a human being I was back then, then this is the moment for you. My child had been conceived in a club toilet. A club f*****g toilet. Who would you tell that to? What would you say if the kid ever asked how she was conceived? Why would a kid ever want to know that in the first place? It was just wrong... and I knew it too.
Trace Demon: I’m not... I can’t... I need time to breath.
I’m in the bathroom before I really know what I’m doing, splashing my face with water while Anna shouts through the door, asking if I’m okay. I’m not. I catch a glimpse of my face in the mirror. If you didn’t know me back then, then you wouldn’t have ever been able to tell that I was an addict. I looked normal. Healthy. Sober. But it was the eyes. I could see it in that mirror at that very moment. That hollow look of exhaustion staring back out at me. And not just any exhaustion. I was exhausted with life itself. There was nothing for me in my life at that moment.
Anna Dawson: Trace, what’re you doing?
I fumble around, grabbing my phone out of my pocket. It drops to the floor and I grab it quickly, sitting against the bath frame. My hands were working faster than my brain. Scrolling through the phonebook I settle on one name before pressing call.
‘Katherine Dawson’
The phone rings.
Trace Demon: Come on, answer.
More ringing.
Katherine Dawson is Anna’s older sister. Older, smarter, a hell of a lot more sensible. Not sensible enough to stay away from a pill popping wreck though. We’d been seeing each other on and off for roughly six weeks prior to this bombshell. I don’t know why I tried to ring her. Maybe I was hoping she would talk some sense into her sister or maybe I was just hoping she could glue together the broken shards of what my life was becoming.
Regardless, there was no answer.
Anna Dawson: What are you doing?
I push the bathroom door open and walk past Anna. I couldn’t look her in the face. I didn’t know what to say. For the first time in my life I didn’t have a clue what the hell I was going to do next. So I did what I always did when things got too tough.
I ran.
Trace Demon: I need some time, just...
She grabs my hand and I pull away.
Trace Demon: Just give me some f*****g space!
Space is the last thing I get as I pick up my jacket from the spot on the floor where I must have thrown it. I make a move for the door but Anna steps in front of my, blocking my exit path. I look at her, not sure what to do. My hand almost moves to shove her out of the way but I stop myself. I’m not my father. The one thing I will never be is my father.
Trace Demon: You have to move.
Anna Dawson: Just wait.
There’s that choking sound in her voice that signals tears are on their way. I couldn’t be there for that. There was no way I could have handled it on top of everything else. It was starting to dawn on me exactly how badly I’d messed up this poor girl’s life and all because I had to have somebody to drag down with me as I fell into my despair. Misery loves company but my company bred misery. It was a vicious circle that I just seemed to be going around with.
Trace Demon: Move. Please.
The first signs of tears appear as she moves to the side and inside a little part of me that I’d long forgotten breaks a little bit. I walk past her, out of the apartment and I don’t look back as I descend down the stairs. But that doesn’t mean I couldn’t hear her shouts. I can still hear them, even through the tears that were streaming down here face.
The last thing I heard as I pushed my way through the front entrance was Anna crying.
The next three days are still a blur.
< *** >
THREE DAYS AFTER THE BOMBSHELL
THE MCGURK HOUSEHOLD
Everything’s dark. I’m hurting all over. My eyes flicker open. This isn’t my apartment. This isn’t my bed. This isn’t even a bed. It’s a couch.
Scarlett McGurk: Mum, he’s awake.
Trace Demon: Wha...
I turn my head to see a young a girl. Eight years old. Doesn’t take me a minute to put a name to the face.
Trace Demon: Scarlett? Oh shi...
Vanessa McGurk: Oh s**t is right. Scarlett, bedroom.
Scarlett McGurk: But mum!
Vanessa McGurk: Now.
Scarlett gets up and walks off to her room. I sit up and cough. My throat feels like sandpaper. As if she knew that was going to be the case Vanessa hands me a glass of water. I drink half the glass and place it on the nearby stand.
Vanessa McGurk: What the hell did you think you were doing?
Trace Demon: Do you mind keeping your voice down? My head is killing me.
Vanessa McGurk: I should think so. The state you were in when you turned up here.
None of it made any sense. I still don’t know what happened during those three days and why I thought turning up on Wayne and Vanessa’s door stop would be a good idea. You think about it that’s the last place you want to turn up when you’re in a state.
Wayne McGurk: Go easy on the guy Vanessa.
Vanessa glares at the direction of the voice and I turn my head to see Wayne walking into the room with two cups. Wayne looks back at her and they seem to have one of the weird psychic conversations that only married couples have. Vanessa shakes her head and walks past Wayne and out of the room. Wayne sits beside me and hands me one of cups. I take a sip. Black coffee, extra sugar. Perfect.
Wayne McGurk: Sorry about Vanessa. You know how she can be.
Trace Demon: From the sounds of things she’s got every reason to be angry with me.
Wayne McGurk: Well that’s true.
I’ve known Wayne since I was nineteen years old. Since I was just getting into training. We’ve been friends since. We’ve travelled together in the rare times we’ve both worked in WFWF at the same time. He’s one of the few people I trust.
Wayne McGurk: So, you wanna tell me what the hell you’ve been up to?
Trace Demon: I have no idea. Last thing I remember is...
Anna.
Trace Demon: It’s all so messed up.
I was craving a pill at this point. I hadn’t taken any with me out of the apartment. There was little doubt in my mind that I’d have managed to get hold of something during the past three days. Why else was it all blank spot? But there was something different this time...
This was the first time I’d fought that craving. The first time I hadn’t just called up the nearest dealer. It wouldn’t have been difficult. I knew people near Wayne’s place that could have gotten me some but... that wasn’t what I wanted to be at that moment.
Wayne McGurk: Look, I’m not gonna force anything out of you. If I’m honest I really don’t need to hear about your latest mess.
Guy has always been blunt when it’s needed.
Wayne McGurk: But it’s clearly becoming a problem. You came to my house man.
Trace Demon: I know.
Wayne McGurk: My daughter saw you in that state. Is that really what you wanted?
Trace Demon: None of this is what I wanted Wayne. I didn’t want to be some screw up junkie. I didn’t want to be the type of guy who just walks out when things get difficult.
I didn’t want to be the type of guy who runs out on a girl when she tells him she’s pregnant...
But that was what I’d become.
Wayne McGurk: Then change it.
Wayne stands up and walks over to the table where he picks up a piece of paper. He hands it to me.
Wayne McGurk: I looked it up while you were passed out on my couch. It’s a meeting for recovering addicts. I want you to go to it and start getting yourself cleaned up.
I stared at that strand of paper for a long time. I remember the conflicting emotions that ran through me. Everything about me wanted to say yes, that I’d go, that I’d sort my life out. But then there was that tiny voice telling me I didn’t have a problem. That I was fine the way I was. It was the addiction, whispering lies into my ear. In truth, there was only one answer that made any sense.
Trace Demon: I’ll go. But first there’s somebody I need to see.
And so began my turning point.
So began my redemption.
The first steps to that fateful day.
< *** >
There comes a point when you have to accept that everything you’ve ever believed is wrong. That the god you have been praying to isn’t listening. That all your prayers will go unanswered and your hopes and dreams will fade into the abyss like they never existed in the first place. There comes a point where you will look around and everything will be unfamiliar. When you realise you’ve been walking the wrong path all along and that you now stand within the abyss itself, surrounded by darkness. There comes a point where that darkness overwhelms you, drags you under like you’re nothing.
There comes a point where you have to fight that darkness, and emerge stronger than ever.
That point is now.
You’d think I’d be happy. King Kraig is gone. My entire reason for being over the past few months has finally come to pass. But where does that leave me? Where does that leave Trace Demon? I’ve spent the past few months trying to get rid of that wretched waste of skin and now he’s gone and I’ve got... nothing. Not a thing. I’m a man without a mission. A revolutionary without a revolution. A demon without a hell. Other than the money I have no reason to turn up to work. No reason to fight. And that is simply unacceptable. Because without a reason then there is no focus and without a focus... well, there’s simply nothing. So I need to refocus. I need to find myself a new target.
A very golden target.
Remember Superbrawl? Sure you do. Remember what I did at Superbrawl? No, probably not. Because there’s only one thing people remember about that show. But let me give you a little reminder. At superbrawl I was supposed to become the new number one contender to the WFWF World Championship. I was supposed to defeat both Michael Kyzer and Ace Bennett in a triple threat match and go on to face EBR or Alex Sean for the title. But as we now know, none of that happened. I didn’t win. I lost. I didn’t walk out as the new number one contender. Michael Kyzer did. And I won’t face EBR or Alex Sean for the title because neither of them f*****g have it! Michael Kyzer does. Everything... went... wrong.
But now without King Kraig to terrorize I need a new target. And in your actions you have very much become it Michael Kyzer. In your actions you have opened up the blinds and let the light in on my otherwise gloomy dark focus. You have placed yourself smack dab in the middle of my sights and now all I’m waiting for is the opportunity to pull the trigger and put a bullet in that skull of yours.
I’ve not been sleeping later Kyzer. I have a child now and all she does is cry. Cry and cry and cry. And so I sit there with her and I get her back to sleep but then I can’t sleep. So I lie there, and I think. I think about all of the things that I’ve had. I think about all of the things that I want. Number one is to beat in the skull of a certain arrogant little hardcore freak. But number two is to take that WFWF World Championship away from you Kyzer. To take that title and give it to somebody deserving. Somebody who embodies everything a real champion should be. Somebody who will stand tall and fight all comers.
Somebody... like... me.
But we both know it isn’t that easy, is it Michael? No, it’s not. I can’t just get my title match by clicking my fingers no matter how much I wish it was so. But frankly, it’s more fun this way. It’s more fun if I have to earn it because then I get to show you exactly what I’m going to do to you when I finally get you one on one. When I finally get to tear the flesh from your skin and rip your heart from your still warm body. And what better way to start than by actually facing you. Sure, it’s a tag team match and I’ve got to contend with that annoying little rat that you always seem to have by your side like the little b***h that he is but hey, we all have to make compromises.
So, a tag team match requires a tag team partner. And so once again I find myself standing beside you Hutton Brown. It’s becoming a bit of a trend. I get it, I really do. Who better to face one of the greatest duos of all time that the two most exciting men in the company? Now I know what people are saying. They’re saying that I can’t be trusted. That I’m going insane. That I’d soon turn my back on you in an instance. And yes, that’s true. All of those things are true. I can’t be trusted and sometimes I do wonder exactly what happened to my sanity. And most importantly is that if it came down to it... if it came down to you and me one on one I would end your career just as fast as I would anybody else’s. But right now... right now you don’t have to worry about that.
Aren’t you relieved? You should be. You see Hutton right now you don’t have anything I desire. Yes, I still crave that rubber match between us but for now all of my thoughts are on the men standing opposite us. And do you want to know a secret? Come on, lean in real close and I’ll tell you. You see, I’m really f*****g proud of you right now. I’ve really got a soft spot for the way in which you finally shut up Phillip Schneider. But then... I’m a little pissed off, because it wasn’t me. But that isn’t your fault. You got the job done whereas I did not. Do for now you are safe. For the immediate future you do not have to worry. I have your back... as long as you don’t stand in my way.
Michael Kyzer. Drakz. Trace Demon. Hutton Brown. Those four names right there mean something in this business. Those four names incite fear and respect. They create a feeling of excitement and danger. So when the four of us step into a ring to main event Loaded... well, I expect something special. I expect things to happen that have never happened before.
No, wait, I lie.
All I expect is that by the end of the night I will have my match with you Michael Kyzer. Because while I’m scraping the flesh off of your face with my nails you are going to beg me to stop and I won’t... not until I have my match. Not until I have my opportunity.
You see, I haven’t been sleeping lately... and it’s driving me a little bit nuts.
Trace Demon: I’ll go. You go back to sleep.
Alexa Jacobs: You’ve done every night this week. Have you even slept?
Trace Demon: I’ll sleep on the plane to the show.
Alexa Jacobs: I don’t even know how you’re still standing.
She forgets that she is talking to a man who spent two years popping pills and only ever sleeping when I was amongst the clouds. It may be my daughter that keeps me awake at night now but that isn’t a big deal, it’s just a triviality.
Trace Demon: Well I am, so go back to sleep and let me deal with it, okay? And just in case you think otherwise, I won’t be taking no for an answer.
She kisses me softly and I can feel the smile in the curvature of her lips. I know a lot of people whose relationships have broken apart because they’ve had a kid; tensions rise and patience wears thin, but we just seem to be getting stronger. I never thought fatherhood would suit me, I mean I call myself ‘Demon’ for Christ’s sake. But I guess I had to have some kind of talent outside of beating people to a pulp.
Trace Demon: Wait up for me?
Alexa Jacobs: Not a chance.
I smile and exit bed. Grabbing whatever clothes are nearest I walk towards the bedroom door. I open it and look back at Alexa. She still has that glow of a new mother, that radiance. It’s certainly strong enough to make me sound like a woman. Or like EBR. I close the door behind me quietly, entering into the kitchen. The remains of thanksgiving dinner are still on the table. I wouldn’t usually celebrate it, us Canadians have the real thanksgiving in October, but Alexa said it would be a perfect way to introduce the family to Eliza. I suppose it was nice in a way. I mean I had to put up with Eliza’s family, including her bat s**t mental mother, but it was nice to introduce Axel and Faith to their new niece. Although I wasn’t expecting the tears.
But that’s a brother for you.
I open the door into the nursery and switch the light on. I spent the better part of two months turning my old training room into this nursery. The yellow walls were Alexa’s decision, as was just about everything else, but I did all the hard work. Have you ever tried putting together a cot? No, didn’t think so. Which means you don’t know the horror I went through.
Trace Demon: What are we crying about this time then?
I switch the baby monitor off by the side of the cot. Last thing Alexa needs on top of Eliza’s crying is my attempts to stop it. I sit down on the chair I placed beside the cot seven days ago. I’ve spent at least an hour sitting here every night since we brought her home. Most would say I’m crazy. Hell, both Wayne and Malakai have already said exactly that. Professional wrestlers aren’t meant to be family men. We’re always travelling, always getting hurt, always doing something crazy that ends up on youtube. It’s just who we are, but as I look at my daughter I know that isn’t true.
I called up the directors last week, told them I wanted off the live show circuit for a few months. I’d still come in and do all the television and pay per view stuff but I couldn’t be on the road every single day, not right now. They tried to convince me otherwise but they couldn’t really say no. I haven’t missed an assigned date in four years. Even when I was popping pills or blind stinking drunk I’d turn up and put on a show. And it always was a show, both inside and outside that ring. So they gave me the time off. Had no choice.
I had to do it. Even without the live shows I’m away during the day at the gym or watching matches or just training. And then I have to fly off for a day or two a week to do the show. I got lucky this week, both my WFWF and XWA commitments fall within a day of each other so I’ve had a week at home, a week to spend with my girlfriend and new daughter. That’s why I’ve made the effort, why I’ve been the one up every night, the one doing all the hard graft. Because when I’m gone for two out of seven days every week it will be all down to Alexa. And that isn’t fair, but it’s the wrestling that’s funding the family. It’s the back and forth between WFWF and XWA that’s allowing us a good lifestyle. It’s all we’ve got right now.
Trace Demon: You’re going to drive me crazy, you know that?
Me just being here seems to calm her down. The tears come to a slow halt and she seems to look up at me, expecting me to say something. If she’s expecting me to have some kind of genius words of wisdom for her at this age she’s going to be sorely disappointed.
It’s strange, how easy it seems to be. I mean other than the complete lack of sleep and constant crying. Looking at her it’s obvious to me that Eliza is the one thing that makes my entire life a success. She is what has made me worthwhile. She’s everything that’s good and pure in a world gone mad. She’s everything that I wasn’t...
And to think, how different this could have been.
< *** >
TWO AND A HALF YEARS AGO
THREE MONTHS AFTER MEETING ANNA & KATHERINE
FIVE SECONDS AFTER BEING TOLD HE IS GOING TO BE A FATHER
Anna Dawson: Did you hear me babe? You’re going to be a father.
It’s hard to remember all of the thoughts that went through my mind at that moment. It was like a never ending flow of ever changing consciousness. Me, a father. I couldn’t even believe the sound of those words at the time. I couldn’t be a father. I was a junkie, addicted to pills and alcohol and girls and just being a general ass. I was everything that a father wasn’t meant to be.
I was, at that very moment, just like my own father. Except with the domestic violence.
Trace Demon: How... what... we... we used protection. You can’t be pregnant.
Anna Dawson: That second night, the one in the club...
Trace Demon: Oh god.
If you want any more proof about how foul a human being I was back then, then this is the moment for you. My child had been conceived in a club toilet. A club f*****g toilet. Who would you tell that to? What would you say if the kid ever asked how she was conceived? Why would a kid ever want to know that in the first place? It was just wrong... and I knew it too.
Trace Demon: I’m not... I can’t... I need time to breath.
I’m in the bathroom before I really know what I’m doing, splashing my face with water while Anna shouts through the door, asking if I’m okay. I’m not. I catch a glimpse of my face in the mirror. If you didn’t know me back then, then you wouldn’t have ever been able to tell that I was an addict. I looked normal. Healthy. Sober. But it was the eyes. I could see it in that mirror at that very moment. That hollow look of exhaustion staring back out at me. And not just any exhaustion. I was exhausted with life itself. There was nothing for me in my life at that moment.
Anna Dawson: Trace, what’re you doing?
I fumble around, grabbing my phone out of my pocket. It drops to the floor and I grab it quickly, sitting against the bath frame. My hands were working faster than my brain. Scrolling through the phonebook I settle on one name before pressing call.
‘Katherine Dawson’
The phone rings.
Trace Demon: Come on, answer.
More ringing.
Katherine Dawson is Anna’s older sister. Older, smarter, a hell of a lot more sensible. Not sensible enough to stay away from a pill popping wreck though. We’d been seeing each other on and off for roughly six weeks prior to this bombshell. I don’t know why I tried to ring her. Maybe I was hoping she would talk some sense into her sister or maybe I was just hoping she could glue together the broken shards of what my life was becoming.
Regardless, there was no answer.
Anna Dawson: What are you doing?
I push the bathroom door open and walk past Anna. I couldn’t look her in the face. I didn’t know what to say. For the first time in my life I didn’t have a clue what the hell I was going to do next. So I did what I always did when things got too tough.
I ran.
Trace Demon: I need some time, just...
She grabs my hand and I pull away.
Trace Demon: Just give me some f*****g space!
Space is the last thing I get as I pick up my jacket from the spot on the floor where I must have thrown it. I make a move for the door but Anna steps in front of my, blocking my exit path. I look at her, not sure what to do. My hand almost moves to shove her out of the way but I stop myself. I’m not my father. The one thing I will never be is my father.
Trace Demon: You have to move.
Anna Dawson: Just wait.
There’s that choking sound in her voice that signals tears are on their way. I couldn’t be there for that. There was no way I could have handled it on top of everything else. It was starting to dawn on me exactly how badly I’d messed up this poor girl’s life and all because I had to have somebody to drag down with me as I fell into my despair. Misery loves company but my company bred misery. It was a vicious circle that I just seemed to be going around with.
Trace Demon: Move. Please.
The first signs of tears appear as she moves to the side and inside a little part of me that I’d long forgotten breaks a little bit. I walk past her, out of the apartment and I don’t look back as I descend down the stairs. But that doesn’t mean I couldn’t hear her shouts. I can still hear them, even through the tears that were streaming down here face.
The last thing I heard as I pushed my way through the front entrance was Anna crying.
The next three days are still a blur.
< *** >
THREE DAYS AFTER THE BOMBSHELL
THE MCGURK HOUSEHOLD
Everything’s dark. I’m hurting all over. My eyes flicker open. This isn’t my apartment. This isn’t my bed. This isn’t even a bed. It’s a couch.
Scarlett McGurk: Mum, he’s awake.
Trace Demon: Wha...
I turn my head to see a young a girl. Eight years old. Doesn’t take me a minute to put a name to the face.
Trace Demon: Scarlett? Oh shi...
Vanessa McGurk: Oh s**t is right. Scarlett, bedroom.
Scarlett McGurk: But mum!
Vanessa McGurk: Now.
Scarlett gets up and walks off to her room. I sit up and cough. My throat feels like sandpaper. As if she knew that was going to be the case Vanessa hands me a glass of water. I drink half the glass and place it on the nearby stand.
Vanessa McGurk: What the hell did you think you were doing?
Trace Demon: Do you mind keeping your voice down? My head is killing me.
Vanessa McGurk: I should think so. The state you were in when you turned up here.
None of it made any sense. I still don’t know what happened during those three days and why I thought turning up on Wayne and Vanessa’s door stop would be a good idea. You think about it that’s the last place you want to turn up when you’re in a state.
Wayne McGurk: Go easy on the guy Vanessa.
Vanessa glares at the direction of the voice and I turn my head to see Wayne walking into the room with two cups. Wayne looks back at her and they seem to have one of the weird psychic conversations that only married couples have. Vanessa shakes her head and walks past Wayne and out of the room. Wayne sits beside me and hands me one of cups. I take a sip. Black coffee, extra sugar. Perfect.
Wayne McGurk: Sorry about Vanessa. You know how she can be.
Trace Demon: From the sounds of things she’s got every reason to be angry with me.
Wayne McGurk: Well that’s true.
I’ve known Wayne since I was nineteen years old. Since I was just getting into training. We’ve been friends since. We’ve travelled together in the rare times we’ve both worked in WFWF at the same time. He’s one of the few people I trust.
Wayne McGurk: So, you wanna tell me what the hell you’ve been up to?
Trace Demon: I have no idea. Last thing I remember is...
Anna.
Trace Demon: It’s all so messed up.
I was craving a pill at this point. I hadn’t taken any with me out of the apartment. There was little doubt in my mind that I’d have managed to get hold of something during the past three days. Why else was it all blank spot? But there was something different this time...
This was the first time I’d fought that craving. The first time I hadn’t just called up the nearest dealer. It wouldn’t have been difficult. I knew people near Wayne’s place that could have gotten me some but... that wasn’t what I wanted to be at that moment.
Wayne McGurk: Look, I’m not gonna force anything out of you. If I’m honest I really don’t need to hear about your latest mess.
Guy has always been blunt when it’s needed.
Wayne McGurk: But it’s clearly becoming a problem. You came to my house man.
Trace Demon: I know.
Wayne McGurk: My daughter saw you in that state. Is that really what you wanted?
Trace Demon: None of this is what I wanted Wayne. I didn’t want to be some screw up junkie. I didn’t want to be the type of guy who just walks out when things get difficult.
I didn’t want to be the type of guy who runs out on a girl when she tells him she’s pregnant...
But that was what I’d become.
Wayne McGurk: Then change it.
Wayne stands up and walks over to the table where he picks up a piece of paper. He hands it to me.
Wayne McGurk: I looked it up while you were passed out on my couch. It’s a meeting for recovering addicts. I want you to go to it and start getting yourself cleaned up.
I stared at that strand of paper for a long time. I remember the conflicting emotions that ran through me. Everything about me wanted to say yes, that I’d go, that I’d sort my life out. But then there was that tiny voice telling me I didn’t have a problem. That I was fine the way I was. It was the addiction, whispering lies into my ear. In truth, there was only one answer that made any sense.
Trace Demon: I’ll go. But first there’s somebody I need to see.
And so began my turning point.
So began my redemption.
The first steps to that fateful day.
< *** >
There comes a point when you have to accept that everything you’ve ever believed is wrong. That the god you have been praying to isn’t listening. That all your prayers will go unanswered and your hopes and dreams will fade into the abyss like they never existed in the first place. There comes a point where you will look around and everything will be unfamiliar. When you realise you’ve been walking the wrong path all along and that you now stand within the abyss itself, surrounded by darkness. There comes a point where that darkness overwhelms you, drags you under like you’re nothing.
There comes a point where you have to fight that darkness, and emerge stronger than ever.
That point is now.
You’d think I’d be happy. King Kraig is gone. My entire reason for being over the past few months has finally come to pass. But where does that leave me? Where does that leave Trace Demon? I’ve spent the past few months trying to get rid of that wretched waste of skin and now he’s gone and I’ve got... nothing. Not a thing. I’m a man without a mission. A revolutionary without a revolution. A demon without a hell. Other than the money I have no reason to turn up to work. No reason to fight. And that is simply unacceptable. Because without a reason then there is no focus and without a focus... well, there’s simply nothing. So I need to refocus. I need to find myself a new target.
A very golden target.
Remember Superbrawl? Sure you do. Remember what I did at Superbrawl? No, probably not. Because there’s only one thing people remember about that show. But let me give you a little reminder. At superbrawl I was supposed to become the new number one contender to the WFWF World Championship. I was supposed to defeat both Michael Kyzer and Ace Bennett in a triple threat match and go on to face EBR or Alex Sean for the title. But as we now know, none of that happened. I didn’t win. I lost. I didn’t walk out as the new number one contender. Michael Kyzer did. And I won’t face EBR or Alex Sean for the title because neither of them f*****g have it! Michael Kyzer does. Everything... went... wrong.
But now without King Kraig to terrorize I need a new target. And in your actions you have very much become it Michael Kyzer. In your actions you have opened up the blinds and let the light in on my otherwise gloomy dark focus. You have placed yourself smack dab in the middle of my sights and now all I’m waiting for is the opportunity to pull the trigger and put a bullet in that skull of yours.
I’ve not been sleeping later Kyzer. I have a child now and all she does is cry. Cry and cry and cry. And so I sit there with her and I get her back to sleep but then I can’t sleep. So I lie there, and I think. I think about all of the things that I’ve had. I think about all of the things that I want. Number one is to beat in the skull of a certain arrogant little hardcore freak. But number two is to take that WFWF World Championship away from you Kyzer. To take that title and give it to somebody deserving. Somebody who embodies everything a real champion should be. Somebody who will stand tall and fight all comers.
Somebody... like... me.
But we both know it isn’t that easy, is it Michael? No, it’s not. I can’t just get my title match by clicking my fingers no matter how much I wish it was so. But frankly, it’s more fun this way. It’s more fun if I have to earn it because then I get to show you exactly what I’m going to do to you when I finally get you one on one. When I finally get to tear the flesh from your skin and rip your heart from your still warm body. And what better way to start than by actually facing you. Sure, it’s a tag team match and I’ve got to contend with that annoying little rat that you always seem to have by your side like the little b***h that he is but hey, we all have to make compromises.
So, a tag team match requires a tag team partner. And so once again I find myself standing beside you Hutton Brown. It’s becoming a bit of a trend. I get it, I really do. Who better to face one of the greatest duos of all time that the two most exciting men in the company? Now I know what people are saying. They’re saying that I can’t be trusted. That I’m going insane. That I’d soon turn my back on you in an instance. And yes, that’s true. All of those things are true. I can’t be trusted and sometimes I do wonder exactly what happened to my sanity. And most importantly is that if it came down to it... if it came down to you and me one on one I would end your career just as fast as I would anybody else’s. But right now... right now you don’t have to worry about that.
Aren’t you relieved? You should be. You see Hutton right now you don’t have anything I desire. Yes, I still crave that rubber match between us but for now all of my thoughts are on the men standing opposite us. And do you want to know a secret? Come on, lean in real close and I’ll tell you. You see, I’m really f*****g proud of you right now. I’ve really got a soft spot for the way in which you finally shut up Phillip Schneider. But then... I’m a little pissed off, because it wasn’t me. But that isn’t your fault. You got the job done whereas I did not. Do for now you are safe. For the immediate future you do not have to worry. I have your back... as long as you don’t stand in my way.
Michael Kyzer. Drakz. Trace Demon. Hutton Brown. Those four names right there mean something in this business. Those four names incite fear and respect. They create a feeling of excitement and danger. So when the four of us step into a ring to main event Loaded... well, I expect something special. I expect things to happen that have never happened before.
No, wait, I lie.
All I expect is that by the end of the night I will have my match with you Michael Kyzer. Because while I’m scraping the flesh off of your face with my nails you are going to beg me to stop and I won’t... not until I have my match. Not until I have my opportunity.
You see, I haven’t been sleeping lately... and it’s driving me a little bit nuts.
