But the lies do..."
Mudvayne
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Jack Michaels had been talking a lot of trash to JC on Twitter. There were a lot of useless comments, along with posting GIFs that he thought were clever, but it was one pointe comment that had struck a chord with the self-proclaimed 'Man Without Fear.'
"Sad. Take away your bravado and masks and what are you? A shadow with a cowardly girlfriend trying to 'salvage' what you let fall to begin with?"
It bothered him, of course, because Jack Michaels was right.
Carnage was wrong when JC arrived. He knew it. He admitted as much to Michaels in the past. Kyra Johnson had been seeing to that during her tenure, and by the time he finally had the chance to do something about it, he suffered a concussion and the regime changed. Then he got caught up in so many personal battles that he let Paragon get too embedded into Carnage. While he was focused on Redemption, he didn't see the growing threat getting in Jason Bridges' good graces.
Because as mentally ill as JC may or may not have been at any given time, he would always view Paragon as a threat to Carnage, and they would not be so if he had acted when he should have.
Jack was right about something else.
JC was a shadow of what he once was. He wasn't The Answer anymore. He wasn't the same JC that crippled Redemption or defeated Jesse Williams. Both men would run wild on him if they returned today. He was depleted, a shell, and he knew it.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it. He knew he needed an edge to fulfill his goals, and he thinks a dark part of him knew that as well.
It all led to this very moment, at the Renaissance Toledo Downtown Hotel, where Lucy Wylde confronted him over his recent behavior.
Joe, JC, whatever name he went by at a given moment, was very sick. His bipolar was at its worst again, and he was hearing voices. He had already put two wrestlers on the shelf and was aiming to do worse to Michaels. He hadn't been taking his medication. He let a hallucination convince him not to. He wasn't going to his doctor.
Lucy knew all of this, because Lucy wasn't stupid. She put the clues together and she figured everything out. She just waited for the right moment.
That moment was now.
The two had just entered the room, and JC tossed his jacket on a nearby table, pulling his luggage in behind him. It was a short stay, after seeing a concert, then they'd head back to New York to get ready for Season of the Witch. Lucy seemed to enjoy herself at the show, but she also seemed quiet. She had been acting odd, but whenever he asked her about it, she blew him off. He wanted to assume it was because of Kyra, but that voice in his head tried to convince him otherwise.
"So...what did you think?"
She started to remove her own jacket, but feeling the chill in the room, opted against it. She turned on the lights and moved inside, letting the door close behind her. The question hung in the air, unanswered.
"Luce?"
She walked to a couch the room had in it (they had a suite) and sat down, wringing her hands between her knees.
She knows.
He shook his head, ever so slightly, in an attempt to will the voice away, then continued.
"You okay?"
“You’ve been lying to me, Joe.”
There was no reason to play dumb or lie again. If anything, that would only make things worse. And yet, he felt insulted by the accusation. He hadn’t been lying to her. She never asked him directly if he’d been taking his medication. Or when she did, he blew it off. But of course, he knew those were all poor attempts to explain it all away.
So explain it away. She wouldn’t understand anyway.
He ignored that and sighed.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Don’t tell her the truth. She’ll think you’re crazy.
He didn’t answer. He just sat down and ran a hand through his hair, sighing again. He wasn’t sure what to say. What exactly was he supposed to say? How could she possibly understand? If anything, telling her would make things worse. Anyone else would see it as a stupid reason and he knew it.
“Joe…”
“You wouldn’t understand. I barely understand.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t, but this doesn’t work if we start keeping shit from each other.”
He took a deep breath. The voice in his head was practically screaming at him not to, but he started.
“Think about the start of this year. Think about how my career basically started to flounder and I said I was going to retire. Then this thing with Paragon started and somewhere in the stress I missed a few pills. Then I started to lose it a little. Then I started to get meaner. Then I started to win again. I think...I think I need to be this way. I think I need to be like this to have an advantage.”
She nodded her head and sighed.
“So, the dark passenger is back in charge? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“I wouldn’t say in charge. But I can hear the voice again, definitely.”
“You don’t see this as a problem?”
You need me.
He got up again and shook his head. Of course he did. He hated feeling this way. That wasn’t the point. The point was that when he slipped into his moments of irrationality, he got things done. Things he couldn’t do when the medication numbed him.
“I’m not exactly thrilled about it. But look at the results.”
She shrugged her shoulders.
“Yeah, the results.. Right. I can’t help but notice that based off of these ‘results’, you’re on the fast track to doing something that I’m scared you won’t be able to live with.. All in the name of success.”
“I don’t appreciate your tone.”
She shook her head.
“I don’t appreciate you sacrificing your mental well-being just to win a couple more matches. That’s not you, Joe.”
“It’s not just a couple more matches. Do you see what that asshole Jack and Paragon are doing to this place? Somebody had to stop them.”
“Yeah, I see it. I hate it too, but come on. ‘Somebody’ doesn’t have to be you, and it doesn’t have to be at the expense of your mind, Joe.”
See? She doesn’t understand.
“You’re more important than fixing Carnage.”
He took a long, deep breath and let it out slowly. He knew she was right. A part of him did, anyway. That wasn’t the part that was talking to him at the moment.
“You went to UGWC when OWF closed. I had Carnage. I can’t just let it burn.”
“So you’re willing to tear yourself apart in order to accomplish that.”
“Once Paragon is done, things can go back the way they were.”
She put her head down into her hands and shook her head.
“Oh, things can just go right back to normal afterwards. That’s nice.”
It’s not as if they didn’t before. And it’s not as if he hadn’t hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. Who was going to miss Robert Zodiac? Wasn’t she cheering him on to get revenge against Lucas Silva? Why was it different just because the chemicals in his brain weren’t mixed properly?
“Sure. Otherwise Carnage can become a shell of what it was, Paragon can run everyone out so they can have the fed to themselves and I’ll be remembered as a burnout at the end of my career. But Lucy wasn’t uncomfortable, so I guess that makes it all worth it.”
He regretted the words as they came out, but he was getting sick of this. He had his reasons, and he felt he should be supported. It was a means to an end, nothing more. He wasn’t attacking her. He was only going after those who deserved it, and Paragon deserved it. The truth was, his health didn’t matter. Only his legacy did.
She looked up at him with disgust on her face.
“How fucking dare you. This has nothing to do with my comfort! This has EVERY God damned thing to do with the fact that I fucking love you and you don’t give one GOD DAMNED shit about the state of your health or the fact that the shit you do affects more than just you. Well I DO and I don’t want to see you do something that you’ll regret. If that makes me the bad guy then so fucking be it.”
There was now an uncomfortable silence. Joe moved to the door and grabbed his jacket off the table.
“I’m leaving. I shouldn’t have said what I said, and I’m leaving before I make things worse.”
“Not like anything I said even made a dent anyway.”
He turned back around and looked at her, then sighed.
“I could start taking my meds again right now, but the damage is done. I’m in this with Jack now. Season of the Witch is Sunday. It’s not like the pills start working right away.”
She nodded her head as she reached up and wiped her eyes.
“Yeah. I know. The worst part is that I know that that’s the passenger saying that, but I can’t fight it. I don’t know how to.”
He looked down and closed his eyes. He didn’t really know if she was right or not. Maybe he was too far gone at this point.
“Yeah. I don’t either.”
He opened the door and left her alone.
Jack Michaels had been talking a lot of trash to JC on Twitter. There were a lot of useless comments, along with posting GIFs that he thought were clever, but it was one pointe comment that had struck a chord with the self-proclaimed 'Man Without Fear.'
"Sad. Take away your bravado and masks and what are you? A shadow with a cowardly girlfriend trying to 'salvage' what you let fall to begin with?"
It bothered him, of course, because Jack Michaels was right.
Carnage was wrong when JC arrived. He knew it. He admitted as much to Michaels in the past. Kyra Johnson had been seeing to that during her tenure, and by the time he finally had the chance to do something about it, he suffered a concussion and the regime changed. Then he got caught up in so many personal battles that he let Paragon get too embedded into Carnage. While he was focused on Redemption, he didn't see the growing threat getting in Jason Bridges' good graces.
Because as mentally ill as JC may or may not have been at any given time, he would always view Paragon as a threat to Carnage, and they would not be so if he had acted when he should have.
Jack was right about something else.
JC was a shadow of what he once was. He wasn't The Answer anymore. He wasn't the same JC that crippled Redemption or defeated Jesse Williams. Both men would run wild on him if they returned today. He was depleted, a shell, and he knew it.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it. He knew he needed an edge to fulfill his goals, and he thinks a dark part of him knew that as well.
It all led to this very moment, at the Renaissance Toledo Downtown Hotel, where Lucy Wylde confronted him over his recent behavior.
Joe, JC, whatever name he went by at a given moment, was very sick. His bipolar was at its worst again, and he was hearing voices. He had already put two wrestlers on the shelf and was aiming to do worse to Michaels. He hadn't been taking his medication. He let a hallucination convince him not to. He wasn't going to his doctor.
Lucy knew all of this, because Lucy wasn't stupid. She put the clues together and she figured everything out. She just waited for the right moment.
That moment was now.
The two had just entered the room, and JC tossed his jacket on a nearby table, pulling his luggage in behind him. It was a short stay, after seeing a concert, then they'd head back to New York to get ready for Season of the Witch. Lucy seemed to enjoy herself at the show, but she also seemed quiet. She had been acting odd, but whenever he asked her about it, she blew him off. He wanted to assume it was because of Kyra, but that voice in his head tried to convince him otherwise.
"So...what did you think?"
She started to remove her own jacket, but feeling the chill in the room, opted against it. She turned on the lights and moved inside, letting the door close behind her. The question hung in the air, unanswered.
"Luce?"
She walked to a couch the room had in it (they had a suite) and sat down, wringing her hands between her knees.
She knows.
He shook his head, ever so slightly, in an attempt to will the voice away, then continued.
"You okay?"
“You’ve been lying to me, Joe.”
There was no reason to play dumb or lie again. If anything, that would only make things worse. And yet, he felt insulted by the accusation. He hadn’t been lying to her. She never asked him directly if he’d been taking his medication. Or when she did, he blew it off. But of course, he knew those were all poor attempts to explain it all away.
So explain it away. She wouldn’t understand anyway.
He ignored that and sighed.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Don’t tell her the truth. She’ll think you’re crazy.
He didn’t answer. He just sat down and ran a hand through his hair, sighing again. He wasn’t sure what to say. What exactly was he supposed to say? How could she possibly understand? If anything, telling her would make things worse. Anyone else would see it as a stupid reason and he knew it.
“Joe…”
“You wouldn’t understand. I barely understand.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t, but this doesn’t work if we start keeping shit from each other.”
He took a deep breath. The voice in his head was practically screaming at him not to, but he started.
“Think about the start of this year. Think about how my career basically started to flounder and I said I was going to retire. Then this thing with Paragon started and somewhere in the stress I missed a few pills. Then I started to lose it a little. Then I started to get meaner. Then I started to win again. I think...I think I need to be this way. I think I need to be like this to have an advantage.”
She nodded her head and sighed.
“So, the dark passenger is back in charge? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“I wouldn’t say in charge. But I can hear the voice again, definitely.”
“You don’t see this as a problem?”
You need me.
He got up again and shook his head. Of course he did. He hated feeling this way. That wasn’t the point. The point was that when he slipped into his moments of irrationality, he got things done. Things he couldn’t do when the medication numbed him.
“I’m not exactly thrilled about it. But look at the results.”
She shrugged her shoulders.
“Yeah, the results.. Right. I can’t help but notice that based off of these ‘results’, you’re on the fast track to doing something that I’m scared you won’t be able to live with.. All in the name of success.”
“I don’t appreciate your tone.”
She shook her head.
“I don’t appreciate you sacrificing your mental well-being just to win a couple more matches. That’s not you, Joe.”
“It’s not just a couple more matches. Do you see what that asshole Jack and Paragon are doing to this place? Somebody had to stop them.”
“Yeah, I see it. I hate it too, but come on. ‘Somebody’ doesn’t have to be you, and it doesn’t have to be at the expense of your mind, Joe.”
See? She doesn’t understand.
“You’re more important than fixing Carnage.”
He took a long, deep breath and let it out slowly. He knew she was right. A part of him did, anyway. That wasn’t the part that was talking to him at the moment.
“You went to UGWC when OWF closed. I had Carnage. I can’t just let it burn.”
“So you’re willing to tear yourself apart in order to accomplish that.”
“Once Paragon is done, things can go back the way they were.”
She put her head down into her hands and shook her head.
“Oh, things can just go right back to normal afterwards. That’s nice.”
It’s not as if they didn’t before. And it’s not as if he hadn’t hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. Who was going to miss Robert Zodiac? Wasn’t she cheering him on to get revenge against Lucas Silva? Why was it different just because the chemicals in his brain weren’t mixed properly?
“Sure. Otherwise Carnage can become a shell of what it was, Paragon can run everyone out so they can have the fed to themselves and I’ll be remembered as a burnout at the end of my career. But Lucy wasn’t uncomfortable, so I guess that makes it all worth it.”
He regretted the words as they came out, but he was getting sick of this. He had his reasons, and he felt he should be supported. It was a means to an end, nothing more. He wasn’t attacking her. He was only going after those who deserved it, and Paragon deserved it. The truth was, his health didn’t matter. Only his legacy did.
She looked up at him with disgust on her face.
“How fucking dare you. This has nothing to do with my comfort! This has EVERY God damned thing to do with the fact that I fucking love you and you don’t give one GOD DAMNED shit about the state of your health or the fact that the shit you do affects more than just you. Well I DO and I don’t want to see you do something that you’ll regret. If that makes me the bad guy then so fucking be it.”
There was now an uncomfortable silence. Joe moved to the door and grabbed his jacket off the table.
“I’m leaving. I shouldn’t have said what I said, and I’m leaving before I make things worse.”
“Not like anything I said even made a dent anyway.”
He turned back around and looked at her, then sighed.
“I could start taking my meds again right now, but the damage is done. I’m in this with Jack now. Season of the Witch is Sunday. It’s not like the pills start working right away.”
She nodded her head as she reached up and wiped her eyes.
“Yeah. I know. The worst part is that I know that that’s the passenger saying that, but I can’t fight it. I don’t know how to.”
He looked down and closed his eyes. He didn’t really know if she was right or not. Maybe he was too far gone at this point.
“Yeah. I don’t either.”
He opened the door and left her alone.
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He wasn't used to not talking to Lucy for this long. At least, not sense they started dating. It didn't feel right. It felt like something was missing, some vital part that kept him going. And yet, he was now in Albany, alone. He had no idea where she was, because he hadn't been back to their place. All he knew was that he had a decision to make.
He sat in another hotel room, not as nice as the one he took Lucy to, because he didn't really care about his own comfort. He sat at a table, staring at a bottle, a new bottle, of pills.
Joe had finally filled his prescription, and now he was debating whether or not to start taking them.
It's not like it would have any bearing on his match with Jack Michaels either way. That was tomorrow. No medication for mental illness works that quickly. So whatever was coming to Jack would come to him regardless. In theory, he could start now, still take care of his business and everything really could go back to normal. Who would miss Jack?
No one.
Kyra might.
She's used to loss.
There was a logic, however macabre, to what his inner voice had to say. But he hated thinking like that. He didn't want to go too far tomorrow. Win the title, send Paragon packing, begin anew. Those were the goals.
It's more than that and you know it.
He got up and grabbed his cell phone and looked at it for a moment. He scanned past several names in his contacts. Will Prydor was preoccupied. Trent was in his own world. Lucy was...he didn't want to open that wound at the moment. Stacy would just side with Lucy.
He found who he was looking for and hit 'CALL'. After waiting a few moments, a voice picked up on the other end.
"Hey. I have a favor to ask you."
There was more murmurs on the other end. He knew exactly what he wanted to ask, and he had to word it right or it wouldn't happen. There was only one person he knew he could depend on no matter what, and he needed a safety net tomorrow night.
"Listen. I'm...not doing well mentally. You know what that means."
More talk from the other end. As he listened, he grabbed a pill and took it dry. It couldn't hurt at this point.
"I need you to be at the PPV tomorrow. I can make the arrangements. I need someone there to make sure I don't go too far. Or, you know, just generally watch my back."
He kept listening. The person he was talking to had a lot to say.
"I know. I know you haven't. But I need you there. It's one night. Just be in the building."
As the person on the other end kept talking, Joe breathed a sigh of relief. He got the answer he wanted. His safety net, whoever it was, would be there.
"Good. Thank you. I'll text you the details."
He paused for a moment, letting the full weight of what was going to happen tomorrow really hit him. Jack Michaels didn't know. He thought he did, but he really didn't. JC was dangerous. More dangerous than anyone the Carnage World Champion had ever fought. And he would be at his most dangerous tomorrow. He had his killer edge. He sacrificed his mental health, his relationships and tomorrow he planned on burning away what was left on his soul to do what he felt was right.
Jack could say whatever he wanted about bravado. He was not the one sacrificing for Carnage. All JC did was sacrifice.
Lost in thought, he heard the voice on his phone again.
"Sorry, I got distracted. See you tomorrow, Eric."
With that, he hung up the phone and sat in the room. Anyone looking in would assume he was alone, but he wasn't. These days, he was never alone.
You need me.
He wondered if he'd ever be alone again.
He wasn't used to not talking to Lucy for this long. At least, not sense they started dating. It didn't feel right. It felt like something was missing, some vital part that kept him going. And yet, he was now in Albany, alone. He had no idea where she was, because he hadn't been back to their place. All he knew was that he had a decision to make.
He sat in another hotel room, not as nice as the one he took Lucy to, because he didn't really care about his own comfort. He sat at a table, staring at a bottle, a new bottle, of pills.
Joe had finally filled his prescription, and now he was debating whether or not to start taking them.
It's not like it would have any bearing on his match with Jack Michaels either way. That was tomorrow. No medication for mental illness works that quickly. So whatever was coming to Jack would come to him regardless. In theory, he could start now, still take care of his business and everything really could go back to normal. Who would miss Jack?
No one.
Kyra might.
She's used to loss.
There was a logic, however macabre, to what his inner voice had to say. But he hated thinking like that. He didn't want to go too far tomorrow. Win the title, send Paragon packing, begin anew. Those were the goals.
It's more than that and you know it.
He got up and grabbed his cell phone and looked at it for a moment. He scanned past several names in his contacts. Will Prydor was preoccupied. Trent was in his own world. Lucy was...he didn't want to open that wound at the moment. Stacy would just side with Lucy.
He found who he was looking for and hit 'CALL'. After waiting a few moments, a voice picked up on the other end.
"Hey. I have a favor to ask you."
There was more murmurs on the other end. He knew exactly what he wanted to ask, and he had to word it right or it wouldn't happen. There was only one person he knew he could depend on no matter what, and he needed a safety net tomorrow night.
"Listen. I'm...not doing well mentally. You know what that means."
More talk from the other end. As he listened, he grabbed a pill and took it dry. It couldn't hurt at this point.
"I need you to be at the PPV tomorrow. I can make the arrangements. I need someone there to make sure I don't go too far. Or, you know, just generally watch my back."
He kept listening. The person he was talking to had a lot to say.
"I know. I know you haven't. But I need you there. It's one night. Just be in the building."
As the person on the other end kept talking, Joe breathed a sigh of relief. He got the answer he wanted. His safety net, whoever it was, would be there.
"Good. Thank you. I'll text you the details."
He paused for a moment, letting the full weight of what was going to happen tomorrow really hit him. Jack Michaels didn't know. He thought he did, but he really didn't. JC was dangerous. More dangerous than anyone the Carnage World Champion had ever fought. And he would be at his most dangerous tomorrow. He had his killer edge. He sacrificed his mental health, his relationships and tomorrow he planned on burning away what was left on his soul to do what he felt was right.
Jack could say whatever he wanted about bravado. He was not the one sacrificing for Carnage. All JC did was sacrifice.
Lost in thought, he heard the voice on his phone again.
"Sorry, I got distracted. See you tomorrow, Eric."
With that, he hung up the phone and sat in the room. Anyone looking in would assume he was alone, but he wasn't. These days, he was never alone.
You need me.
He wondered if he'd ever be alone again.
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Ever since I was five years old, I wanted to be a professional wrestler.
I'm not alone in that dream. I see others who work day in and day out to strive to be the best. We may have our disagreements, but we end up settling it, one way or another, in the ring and that's that.
Now that I am a wrestler, I love to prove that I'm the best. I want to be a champion. I've made it very clear that I want to be a world champion again before I retire.
Which is why it disgusts me that you've perverted that dream, Jack Michaels.
I shouldn't have to be competing for something as prestigious as the Carnage World title this way, lowering myself to destroying a genuinely talented wrestler for his misdeeds. Because I come here not to bury you, Michaels. A man your age holding a world title that long is impressive. I would never discredit your ability or your skill.
But I still have to hurt you, and I have to hurt you bad. And you brought it on yourself. And I hate you for making me be the one to do it. Because of what you've done. What you believe. Who you've hurt. You have tainted my one, and maybe only Carnage world title match by turning it into a freak show.
I could have just let this be a live and let live situation. Our paths would have crossed eventually, but I could have beat you straight up and let that be your lesson. But after what you did to Brian Crucifix, I saw that you were more than just an old man clinging to power. You were a threat to Carnage and everything that everyone who ever represented this company has ever fought and bled for.
Even if we assume that you genuinely have the best intentions for Carnage, you never once went about it in the right way. Who have you properly groomed for the future? I think Eli Goode is the only name that comes to mind, and he's stagnant. He can't truly blossom because he's under your thumb. Any time any other talent tried to rise up, as you claim they should, you kicked them back down again. The Sandtown Kid. Isaiah Luck. Pearl Attlee. They've all clashed with you and look at them now. Look at what they've become. Look at the common denominator. Some great teacher. The only lesson you teach is subservience.
Paragon.
Paragon is a disease. Jack Michaels is a cancer. But cancer isn't special and neither are you.
Even if you had the best intentions, you try to create your vision with force. You lack compassion. You lack forgiveness. You tore a man's shoulder from its socket in his hometown for actions he did long before he changed who he was. If given the option, an option you never gave, would he have tried to repent? We'll never know, will we?
Anyone who disagrees with Paragon is an enemy of Paragon and must be trampled under its boot. Sedition will not be tolerated. Their message must be corrupted and twisted into something its not, so as not to contradict Paragon's. Paragon will take its vision by force and it doesn't care whether the roster or the fans of Carnage Wrestling actually want that vision or not.
That's the thing. You just don't care. You came in never caring if anyone actually wanted to buy what you're selling. There have been men like you before. Men with visions. Men with factions. Men who led those factions with their visions and destroyed places just like Carnage. Men with intentions that had no one to stop them. Men that had no one special to rise up against them.
You think I want to pick up this torch? Do you think I want to hurt you? I warned you two years ago, that I lost myself the last time I got involved in a fight like this. The fact that I did again shouldn't have surprised you. I don't want to become this. I don't want to do these things. But Carnage is my home, and there's no other way to get through to you. You won't listen to reason. You think I've been trying to intimidate you but all I've wanted to do is wake you up.
I'm the one who drew the short stick. I'm the one who has to become something I don't want to be. Because the only thing that can stop me is me...and I truly don't know if I'll want to stop when the bell rings.
I told you Michaels. You fight for Paragon. You fight for yourself and your vision. You fight for what you think wrestling should be, some pie-in-the-sky ideal.
I fight for the fans. I fight for the roster. I fight for the ring crew. I fight for everyone that actually works for a fucking living. I don't have nearly the ego of yourself to say The Override is Carnage Wrestling, either. But Carnage Wrestling IS the Override, because without it, a lot of us wouldn't have our careers anymore. We were outsiders and it gave us a home. It gave us new life. All things you want to take away in your homogenized dystopia.
I will save Carnage from your perversion. It's a living, breathing organism and you will not kill its spirit. I won't allow it.
This either ends in my victory or my last breath.
You call that bravado, and in the same breath say "the wrestling world" is ready for your demise. The wrestling world? Jack...no one's going to care when you're gone. UGWC will continue to spin on its axis. CWF will be mildly inconvenienced at best. I doubt EWC even knows who you are.
And Carnage?
We'll be just fine. We were fine before you got here and when you're gone, we might even prosper.
I can only hope that when this is over, Jack, you learn some fucking humility at the very least.
Forgive me Carnage. I know exactly what I'm doing, and I apologize for what you'll see.
But my hand has been forced, and there's no turning back.
