Post by Rated R on May 20, 2018 10:53:34 GMT -5
Tyler Draven Presents
This is f*cking creepy. I am being f*cking creepy.
Should probably just drive away, get the hell out of dodge before this whole thing gets messed up. But no, I’m sat here waiting to see her. Basically straight up stalking. Not even basically, I am. I’m stalking her. But I can’t leave without seeing her. I need to know she’s coping, that I haven’t torn her apart. Just because I did the right thing it doesn’t mean people didn’t get hurt because of me. Because of what I did. I just need to know that she’s alright, that they both are.
That’s why I’m parked outside Trace Demon’s place. This god damned mansion of his. I need to know that Emily is getting by with Trace out of the picture. So that’s why I’m being creepy as f*ck, waiting to get some glimpse of her. I’ve been parked here for something like two hours now. I know she’s in there, any minute now she should be taking Emily to school. I’m sure today was always her day to drop her off. Not that she had to, Trace had the maid for sh*t like that, but Emily liked to do it once a week. Said it made her feel close to Eliza. That it stopped her getting too sucked up into the extravagance Trace surrounded himself with.
Not that he cared about it. The guy was simple, didn’t really care about what he had. Hard to believe that I guess when you’re talking about a guy as rich as Trace was, a guy who owned multiple businesses and who knows what else, but you never really heard him talk about them, or all the things he could buy. Think he made the money just for the things he could do with it, so he could look after his family, buy them all that fancy sh*t, not himself. Listen to me, almost made it sound like that piece of sh*t was a normal human being, a guy who wasn’t completely obsessed with his own glory. Sure, Trace didn’t fixate on money, but power and attention? A completely different story there.
I glance down at my bag stuffed at the foot of the passengers seat. That letter’s in there, the one Elinor gave me. She said Trace wrote it before… well, y’know. Doesn’t make sense to me. You could say a lot of things about him but Trace wasn’t sentimental and he sure as hell wasn’t the letter writing type. Whatever’s in there I’m sure he wrote it just to mess with me, but what the hell did he say? And why haven’t I been able to open it yet? Guilt. No, I’m not guilty of anything. I did the right thing when others couldn’t. And sure, it’s tearing me up, has been since the moment I took the bat to his skull, but somebody had to stop him. I made that sacrifice so nobody else would have to. I’ve got nothing to feel guilty about.
So why haven’t I opened the letter, and why do I feel responsible for checking in on Emily when she really never meant anything to me. She didn’t even like me all that much. Or at all, probably not at all.
It’s another ten minutes before the door opens. I see it from where I’m parked and instantly drop low in my seat. Emily steps out, Eliza’s hand in hers, guiding her down the steps. She looks fine. Just… fine. Like nothing’s happened. But she’s gonna look like that, always was, putting on a facade for Eliza, that little girl who probably doesn’t understand what happened to her father, or why some guy would take him away from her. F*ck.
I don’t know what I was thinking, like I could just turn up here, see her, make sure she was okay as if it matters, as if it would change anything. I took away Emily’s brother, Eliza’s father. I did that, me. For the right reasons? Sure, but that doesn’t change the consequences.
Wait, is she looking this way? She definitely is. F*ck!
Sh*t! crap! F*cking hell!
Drive! Get the f*ck out of here now!
Wait I’m the one driving! In gear, foot on the pedal, getting the hell out of dodge…
What the f*ck was I thinking?
< *** >
Who’s Side Are You On
"Now I don’t want you freaking out over this match."
"This match, having to fight a girl."
"Why would I… what? Because she’s a girl? Get the f*ck out of here Anders, why would that matter?"
"I mean, plenty of people don’t like laying their hands on a woman. To be honest that’s usually a good thought process to have."
"Yeah, in the real world, not in the f*cking ring. What d’you think I’m gonna do, stand there and let someone kick the sh*t out of me because she’s not got a c*ck? Are you mental? The moment you sign up to be a wrestler it doesn’t matter what is or isn’t swinging between your legs, your just the same as everyone else."
"Trace teach you that one?"
"No, common f*cking sense taught me that one."
"Mr. Draven, Mr. Anders, Ms. Sleater will see you now."
After one asinine conversation I get the feeling I’m about to walk into another. Course I’ve been getting that feeling ever since Lila asked me to come to WFWF headquarters. Not much reason for me to be here given I’ve only won two matches unless it’s something big, and I’ve got a feeling I know exactly what it is.
"Tyler, Jason, thanks for coming in. Take a seat."
Lila Sleater’s office is cold. Not literally, because f*ck me if she doesn’t have the heat cranked up. Nah, it’s very impersonal, a bit like Lila. Big desk, uncomfortable looking seats, everything in its place. Not my idea of a comfortable workplace environment, but then I get paid to hit people, so what do I know.
"Would either of you like a drink? Water? Something stronger?"
"Not really a big drinker. I’d just like to get this over with."
She doesn’t even give Anders a chance to answer. Looking at his disappointed face is the first time I’ve cracked a smile all day.
"Quite. Well, let’s just get on with this, shall we? I’m assuming you know why I asked you here?"
"Gonna guess it’s got something to do with an airport."
She nods. Not like it took rocket science to figure that one out though. Before flying out to the last show I had a bit of a… run in, let’s say, with some kids mom. She was ranting about her I was a bad influence, but c’mon now, she’s the one letting her kid watch this sh*t. I don’t have anything to feel bad about there.
"Correct. Tyler, I know this whole world is new to you, that you’re not used to being in the public eye, to tailoring your actions to the knowledge that you’re constantly being watched, but that’s part of being a WFWF competitor, do you understand?"
"You had this conversation with anyone else?"
"Tyler! Sorry Lila, he doesn’t get that this is a serious situation."
"Nah, I get it, just think this whole thing is a little ridiculous is all."
"Tyler you can’t-"
"Let him speak Jason."
I can feel Anders’ eyes drilling into the side of my head, but I don’t care. Lila said she brought him in to ‘guide me’ as I start out with the WFWF, but really he’s just there to keep an eye on me. I’m not quite sure why Lila would care enough for that, but there’s something going on here, just haven’t got it figured out yet.
"I get it, what I did, screaming at that woman, it’s not a good look for the WFWF. Fine, I’ll hold my hands up to that, I blew up when I should’ve held my tongue. But you’re calling me out over it? While there’s people like Kyzer running around doing whatever he wants? People like Lynn using his one night of glory to steal a title? When there were people like Trace and Schneider and Drakz and hell, name any big bad of the past ten years. Did they ever get this talking to, or is it just because I’m not big enough yet to get to do whatever I want?"
It’s awkwardly silent. If Anders was any more of a cartoon caricature of a human being his teeth would be physically chattering right now from the nerves. Then Lila smiles and he physically exhales. Guy wouldn’t be out of place on… sh*t, I don’t know any kids shows.
"It’s that kind of thing I want to change Tyler. People need to be responsible for their actions in and outside of the ring. If they’re not then the WFWF becomes lawless, a playground for the sick and twisted, for people like Trace Demon. Don’t you think the WFWF be a better place without people like that?"
If this goes anything like the last time she spoke like this I’d better get hiding that bat from her.
"I want your help Tyler, I want you to lead this new, respectful WFWF. I want you to show everyone that you’re not the man they think they are, the man who butchers people, who ends careers."
"That’s not strictly true though, is it?"
"You did what you had to, and you did it to help the WFWF, because that’s who you are. You’re exactly what this company needs, and I need you to behave like that. If you don’t, then what hope do we have of making things better?"
Sounding a little too much like a cult leader for my liking. Didn’t escape from one cult of personality to be sucked up into another. Especially one considerably less interesting.
"Look, I get you’ve got a good reason for all this, and I fully support you, don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t become a part of the WFWF to get caught up in the politics or be a poster boy. I want to wrestle, I want to make money to help my sister, if I can do some good along the way, sure, but don’t try and make me something I’m not, because that doesn’t do it for me."
"I can’t say I’m not disappointed… but you know Tyler, I’ve got faith in you. Maybe it’ll take some time, but you’ll come around to my way of thinking."
Her confidence makes me feel uneasy, like she knows something I don’t. I’m not like Trace, I don’t need to be ahead of everyone, predicting their every move, but I don’t like the idea of being a step behind either.
"And what makes you so sure?"
"Because I think we understand each other, and I know as well as you do that you’re struggling right now. Struggling to decide who you are, and you’re struggling so much because you know you’re going to go one of two ways. So let me put this simply, help me and become the good guy you know you can be, or don’t… and become the monster you’re scared is hidden away somewhere in that brain of yours."
F*cking hell, that was deep as hell.
"That’s messed up."
"If you say so. Take some time, think about it, decide who you want to be. But don’t take too much time Tyler, because if there’s one thing I know about the WFWF it’s that if you don’t have somebody guiding you, somebody you can trust… then it’ll decide who you are for you."
< *** >
Madison Square Garden. MSG. The Garden. Whatever you want to call it the fact is this building is professional wrestling. You ask any wrestler, any promoter, any fan, to name an arena and they’ll all tell you this one. Madison Square Garden is the building wrestlers dream about competing in. And now here I am, three matches into my professional wrestling career, just eight hours away from making my Garden debut.
I’ve said it before, but what the f*ck is going on?
It’s a bizarre feeling, sitting here, looking around at an empty arena, knowing that in a few hours there’ll be a horde of people here, cheering, booing, shouting abuse, doing whatever the f*ck they want because they’ve paid to be here. Used to be a time I couldn’t afford to be at a show like this. Now I’ll be in the ring, fighting to keep my ‘undefeated streak’ alive. You’d think this would be a magical moment for me, actually achieving a dream like this. You’d think I’d be overcome with emotion, with pride, with happiness. But honestly? I just feel sh*t, because all I can think about is what I had to do to get here.
It’s gotten worse ever since Elinor gave me that letter. I’ve been carrying it around with me, thinking that sooner or later I’ll have the balls to open it. I shouldn’t care what Trace has written to me, because god knows the man was full of sh*t at the best of times, but I can’t get it out of my head. And every single night I can’t sleep because I hear the crack of the bat is another night that he’s won, that he’s holding this thing over my head. That’s the point of this letter, right Trace? To f*ck with me? You’re a piece of sh*t even when you’re in a coma.
F*ck it. I pull the letter out of my bag and rip it open, unfurling a single piece of paper with Trace’s scrawl on it. Throw your worst at me Trace.
If you’re reading this, it means I’m dead. Well, probably not, that’d be pretty f*cking extreme circumstances right there. But it does mean I’m out of the picture through means that were not my own. And by not my own I mean they were yours. Basically what I’m saying is Tyler, if you’re reading this then the inevitable has happened and you’ve not just turned on me, but you’ve ended me, one way or the other.
Bet you’re freaked out right now? Let’s hope so, it’s no fun otherwise. Bet you’re wondering exactly how I know you’re the guy who’s going to end me, but come on man, if you’ve learned anything from me by now it’s that I know everything. Fact is I knew from the moment I chose to keep you around. Sure, first few months I thought you were just another loser kid, figured it’d be entertaining to watch you fail, but then I saw it. The lack of hesitation. The willingness to do whatever it takes to get what you wanted, even if you didn’t like it. That’s when I knew I could train you, make you into someone that mattered, create a legacy.
Course that’s a double edged sword, because I know that only ends one way. Either you end me or I end you. Not sure when it’ll happen. Next show, next month, next year? Who knows, but sooner or later something’s gonna come up and one of us is going to destroy the other. So I’m writing this just in case you’re the one who takes me out, instead of the other way around which, let’s be honest, is a lot more likely. Thing is though there’s a chance, there’s a chance that you could take me out, given the right motivation, and I don’t think it’d take all that much.
Fact is Tyler you and me aren’t that different. You think I’m this monster who only does this for myself, and hell the first parts probably true, but I’m doing this for the same reason you are. So I can look after my family. And there’s definitely part of me that wants the power and the fame, and hell I can’t deny I love the violence, but at the end of the day it’s about family. You’re the same kid, and as much as you try and deny it you know it, deep down. Because if I’m right, and I usually am, and you’re reading this because you’ve taken my out of the game for good, then you’re going to go to any lengths to get to the point where you can provide for that sister of yours.
Just know man, I don’t blame you, hell, I just hope my death knell was memorable. But I did want to leave you with a little parting message, something to remember me by. Something you should remember yourself. No matter what you do now, no matter what path you take, people are always going to see you the one way, because that’s what people do. They’re going to see you the same way I reckon you’ll see yourself. Because the fact is kid…
You’re the monster now.
< *** >
Two matches, two wins, both fair and square. Nothing underhand, nothing illegal, everything above board. But the only thing anyone wants to talk about is what I did to Trace Demon. Even the people trying to hype the match don’t want to focus on my actual in-ring performances but rather the "thunderous crack at the expense of his mentor Trace Demon’s skull" Honestly, I’m getting a little tired of it. I did what I did for the good of the WFWF, because somebody had to finally deal with Trace Demon and nobody else was stepping up to the plate, and now I’m being victimised because of it? Boxed in as some monster for doing the right thing? I am not a monster, I am just a man trying to make a career for himself, trying to look after his family. So if you people want to try and turn me into something I’m not then fine, but I’m not going to bite.
No, what I’m going to do is the same thing I’ve done already to Brandon Bison and Jason Sykes. I’m going to walk to that ring, I’m going to fight my usual fight and I’m going to win, and then next time round you’ll all still be talking about how I bashed Trace’s head in with a baseball bat and we can go round and round in circles until the end of time. Now Reina, it’s looking like you’re being painted with the same brush after what went down with you and the good Reverend. Now I could stand here and tell you not to let it get you down, or come up with a big speech about how we can help each other out, but I’m not the man who trained me. I’m not here to make friends, or offer a shoulder. I might not be a monster but I also don’t need any friends around here, because let’s face it friendships don’t end well around here.
Thing is Reina I don’t think we’re all that similar, because sure, we both ‘made an impact’ by taking out veterans, but the fact is I had to do it for the good of the WFWF, and you just did it because you felt like it. See Reina, seems to me like you like the violence, which is the way for a lot of people around here, but if that’s the only reason you’re walking into that ring then I reckon you’re in for a rude awakening. See, guys like Kyzer, Brennan, even Trace, they’re violent by necessity. They’ve got goals, things they want, and they use violence because they think that’s how you get it. Which, given the business we’re in, ain’t half-wrong. Now you… well from what I can gather you want competition, but I’m pretty sure you were already getting that before you showed up here. So that’s a lie, which means the only reason you’re actually here is because you want to hurt people. Nothing more, nothing less.
I’m not really down with that.
Reina, fact is violence for the sake of it? It’s pretty f*cking pathetic. Means you don’t have much more going for you. Now maybe I’m wrong, hopefully I am, because the way I see it right now you’re pretty two-dimensional, a little bit boring. I mean come on, you think you can come in, make a few comments, try to intimidate people and it’ll… what? Seriously, what’s the end game here? What’re you gonna achieve? A few wins, a little bit of attention, a broken, shallow existence where nobody cares what you do unless you’re breaking your body to hurt somebody? Reina, you’re in this for all the wrong reasons, and if I’ve got to step inside that ring with you and prove it to you one to one, then that I can do. Consider it my good deed for the week. Then, maybe, you’ll get yourself a reason for being beyond punching and kicking.
Because let’s be honest, right now? I don’t think there’s much of a reason for you to be around here at all.