“It's all true. God's an astronaut. Oz is just over the rainbow. And Midian is where the monsters live. ”
― Nightbreed
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------His eyes jolted open to knocks on the door and he realized this was already becoming an all too familiar habit.
He also realized that he had a flight to catch soon because he had to get to Germany. To fight for CWF. Without his girlfriend.
Joe looked down at his phone to gauge the time and had a real 'speak of the devil' moment when he saw a photo of Lucy there. Of course, there was nothing wicked about her. Nothing he'd describe in polite company, anyway. The time said 9:30 AM, and the time of the phone call read 6:23:45 and counting.
So she called around three, he thought to himself. Okay.
He pressed "END" on the phone and then sent a text message.
Sorry if this wakes you. Gotta get ready for my flight. We fell asleep with our phones on. Don't forget what I told you. Love you.
She had called with bad dreams and concerns that perhaps what Kyra had said weeks ago was true. The same story, the same dirty laundry and the same emotionally fragile Lucy. He still could do nothing except be there for her emotionally. He was helpless in most other respects. The only person who could truly help Lucy was Lucy, and no matter how much he told her this, she wasn't ready to hear it.
So he just kept telling her and tried to push on with his own goals in the meantime.
He looked down and noticed he had sleep pants on, which was sufficient enough. He opened the door and a camera greeted him. He supposed there was a person behind it, but that person didn't really matter.
He shut the door.
"You people really need to get a life."
He thought he saw some high-tech microphone this time, so perhaps the CWF audience was listening to his every move while watching a door. Or maybe the cameraman got really fancy and bought a miniature camera to snake under the door. He didn't care.
You should just toss him into a wall and be done with it.
He tilted his head to the side and ignored it. Did he have any pills around? Did he get the prescription filled? It was very hard to remember these things anymore. He decided that if he was hearing a voice again that perhaps he hadn't.
JC had been having his own problems, which was another reason he had been hesitant, at best, to try and take on Lucy's. In the middle of this tournament, and attempting to wage what amounted to a war over in his home fed. His already precarious mental stated had been slowly fraying away over the summer and was now closer than ever to reaching a psychotic break. He only knew enough know to be aware of it.
He walked past the door on his way to the bathroom in his New York apartment (formerly Lucy's, but she pretty much told him it was theirs now) and could have sworn he saw something peeking under it. He dismissed it. After all, he didn't care.
Joe stared at the medicine cabinet blankly, almost as if he expected it to open itself up and reveal its contents to him. Sadly they did not. All he saw was his reflection.
He looked tired. Haggard, even. Like the world had been beating him down. Is this how he appeared to everyone else? Maybe that's why the CWF commentators couldn't stop calling him old. He was only 43. He was fitter now than he had been in ten years. He could move around that ring better than some people in their twenties.
But if he looked like that, maybe the description was apt.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose his index finger and thumb, then opened the cabinet. In the corner, alone, was an older bottle. One that he hadn't used in a while but maybe it'd work until he could finally get down to the pharmacy. But would he have time? He did still have a flight to catch.
It won't work. You're too far gone.
That voice didn't even sound like it was in his head...
He wheeled around in the room, expecting someone behind him. No one was there. He sighed and popped the pill into his mouth. His pharmacy had the prescription. Lucy had called his doctor and had his doctor call it in when he told her he lost the paper.
He just never went.
He didn't know why, he just never did.
You know why. I give you your edge. Why do you think you haven't lost in this tournament?
"Because I'm good at my job."
You are nothing without me.
He stuck his head under the faucet and swallowed. A pill with sedative effects. He'd get his prescription filled, get on the plane, sleep whatever this was off and then land in Germany feeling okay.
He shut the medicine cabinet door and saw something. While it's unclear what, as this was a vision in his own head, the sight horrified him enough to shut his eyes quickly.
He opened his eyes again and let out a sigh of relief.
"Pharmacy first. Prescription. Plane. Kick Ataxia's ass. In that order."
You won't do it without me. Fight crazy with crazy...
"Shut up, brain."
JC grabbed some clothes and noticing the snake watching him, unsure if that was a hallucination too, shut his bathroom door too. Some things absolutely had to remain private.
This tournament is giving me the strangest sensation of deja vu.
First of all, I've fought two people now that claim to have some form of psychosis or 'dark passenger' or whatever you want to call it. They paled in comparison to me and I put them down. Now, I've got Ataxia.
My last match was against someone Jack Michaels had previously defeated. Now, I've got Ataxia.
Ataxia. They say he's a lunatic in a mask. A truly crazy person who laughs the laugh of a madman. Perhaps of all the people on the roster who claim insanity, he's the one who is legitimate. Silas Artoria, the guy I just defeated, warned me not to take him lightly. Funny advice from someone who spent his entire promo taking me lightly, but I digress.
I don't take Ataxia lightly because Ataxia is undefeated so far. There's a method to his madness, you might say. Being undefeated in a tournament like this is no small feat, and I won't take it away from him. Of course, I haven't been pinned either. I can't say undefeated, but I'm not about to get into that again. But no one's beat me personally yet.
You won't either.
I won't pretend to know what makes you tick. I barely even know who you are. I only know what I've seen, and what I've seen is a wildly unpredictable opponent who no one has had an answer for so far. Funny, because my answer for most things is dropping people on their head. You might be vicious and unorthodox in the ring. Judging from what I saw at Golden Intentions you certainly have a high pain threshold. But not even the insane can continue fighting if they're unconscious.
So long story short, I don't need to inflict pain. I just need to keep beating on your body until your body gives out. It wouldn't be the first time. I can snap a leg, I can give you a concussion or I can just simply kick you in the face repeatedly until you just can't go anymore. That's what you have to look forward to.
Honestly, I thought about holding off on this to see what you had to say but...I don't care. You'll ramble, you'll try to insult me like you're some Dollar Tree Trent Steel and I'll brush it off. I've been in this game for too long to worry about what the latest masked clown is going to say to me. I mean, just watching your last attempt was a joke.
You want a shoot? A real shoot?
I'm doing CWF a fucking favor just by being in this damn tournament. I'm doing you a favor by being here. You outta kiss my feet the second we step foot in the ring and thank me for lending my talents to your little tournament. I've got quite a lot going on in Carnage and yeah, I came over here to become a champion, but I didn't have to be. So when I win that belt and save this place from the edge of obscurity. maybe I'll get better than the mixed reaction I was given against Silas.
I may be a villain, but I'm also the best in the world and I'm tired of you CWF fucks not showing me some respect. Raven, Rishel, Silas. And I'm sure the lack of respect from you is coming, even if you may be too stupid, or too insane, to know how to give it.
And that's okay.
I may not be able to beat the respect into you, but I can certainly beat you to the point that you'll remember me when you wake up in the morning from now on.
I've figured Ataxia out. He thinks he's CWF's resident boogeyman. This psychotic monster clown that feeds off its fear and uses that to feast on his opponents. That doesn't work on me. I don't fear you, clown. You do nothing but amuse me. You're the latest crazy person in a mask in a long line of them that I've faced in my career.
Take that sack off your head, stop cosplaying better psychos from 30 year old movies and listen up. Omega block is mine. The last time you fought a Carnage wrestler you got your ass handed to you.
This time won't be any different.
