- Percy Shelley, Ozymandias
He had been planning this for a while and his plan was fully executed. He knew they would come for him. He knew that he had already won and there was nothing they could do at this point. But it wasn't just his victory, it was a victory for everyone. It didn't matter that he had to sacrifice 29 other people to get his goal, because it was for the greater good.
But they would be coming. The ones who thought themselves heroes, but were merely misguided fools.
There was the smaller one, full of aggression and fury, but truly lacking the patience and understanding to stop him. He may get the closest, may even prove challenging, but ultimately, JC knew he was better than him. He wore paint on his face and used it to express himself because he was truly uninteresting without that face.
There was the smarter one, the one that thought he had all the answers. Thought he knew everything about everyone, thought it right to call him out when he challenged him, but was about to find out how wrong he was. The good soldier. The has-been.
There was the one that achieved the art of resurrection, bringing herself up from what many thought was an untimely end to have more attention on her than ever before.
And of course, there were others. He would overcome them as well. Some he had already dealt with and would just have to do it again.
He stood in the personal ring, watching a wide variety of monitors. Watching the past to prepare for his future. Watching the footage. Two of them were here now. They were trying to sneak attack him, approaching him from opposite sides. They thought they'd eliminate him.
JC would prove them wrong.
The smaller one with the half-painted face came first. Practically dove at him as he expected he would. He avoided it and flung him into the ropes, causing him to spill out through them and land on the floor below. Not eliminated yet, he would be back.
The other one tried to use a weapon. A chair. Sure, there were no rules, let him. JC kicked it back into his face. The masked one tried to get back up and JC shoved his knee into his mouth, knocking him back down. The second man got up and he lifted him up and slammed him back down again. They could not stop him.
"Welcome to my ring, gentlemen."
The has-been, breathing hard, spoke up first.
"JC, you arrogant prick. I had you pegged from the moment you spoke to me."
"Then you know you're going to lose, so what's left to discuss?"
The painted man began to stir.
"We still have a lot to talk about. I eliminated you the last time."
"That was the past. You may think you figured me out, you think you know how to beat me, but I'm going to take you out first. You're going to crack, and them I'm going to throw you out."
The man with the face paint took a swing at him, and he blocked it. He grabbed him by the throat, lifted him up and then punched him in the face to knock him back down. A bitch slap if there ever was one.
"I have to win. I'll neutralize every single one of you to do it. No easy task, but I'm up to the challenge. You gave it a good shot the last time, but that's over now."
"Sorry to disappoint you."
This time they both tried, pushing him back with strikes until he was against the ropes. He began to cover up to block as many shots as he could, and for the first time he was in real danger. But he found his opening. He avoided a shot from the has-been, then grabbed the painted man and threw him into him. They both flew over the top rope and hit the floor.
They were eliminated and could no longer prevent his victory. As if they ever could.
"Someone has to take the title from Vaughn and her friends!"
"That's exactly what I'm going to do. My future title reign is your punishment for not doing it sooner. In order to save this company, I had to trick it. I had to make them think I'm some washed up veteran on his last legs. I had to make them think I wasn't the same sadistic threat I was last year in Carnage. A necessary lie. I will take what's mine."
"We can't let you do that."
"Do that? Do you think I'd take you on if I thought there was a slightest possibility you could affect the outcome? I won this match the moment I drew my number."
Then the surprise came. The doctor and his fiancee, the resurrected one, both showed up. Except JC couldn't see that coming. Who could? The doctor struck first, with a weapon. A cane of some sort, he supposed, swinging it at his chest. He tried to block the blow with his hands but the force knocked him down all the same.
"You're such an asshole."
He laid there for a moment, giving him a false sense of security. Then he revealed that his hand caught most of the force, before getting up and booting him in the stomach, then throwing him out on top of the other two.
"Grow up."
Then it was her turn.
"I'm disappointed in you Jesus. Very disappointed. Lying to UGWC is my gimmick! They didn't accept it when I revealed I was alive, what makes you think they'd accept it if you reveal yourself to them?"
She grabbed the doctor's cane herself and swung it at him, but he used her own momentum against her, and she too was over the top rope and to the floor. She looked at him, irritated.
"Do you really think you have what it takes to beat us and stop her?"
"Yes. You could say that. You've seen what happens with that whole group of Cool Kids on top. We both have. This is as much your victory as it is mine."
The face painted man spoke up again.
"You can't do it. Everyone's going to know what you've done and you'll lose."
"Will they?"
This man posing as JC, this dark passenger, full of every evil thought he ever had, was sure that it wouldn't remain dormant for long. It alone knew that it would eliminate them all, violently if needed, to get its host to the top. Whether he wanted the violence or not.
It laid dormant before. It would come back again. And it would make a liar out of JC.
Then none of them would ever forgive him. Not even Lucy. But he'd be on top. He'd have his power. He'd have his throne. He'd have his dark passenger in full control again.
And no one would ever separate them again.
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JC's eyes fluttered open and he groaned.
He'd fallen asleep in the car. He hated that he came here so early, but he was eager to get his neck checked out. And he had to mask his trip with a lie to Lucy, which he hated doing. But in this case, it wasn't for selfish reasons. He didn't want to worry her. He didn't want her to add his troubles onto her own, when she had so many right now.
It could end up being nothing, and he would have hurt her unnecessarily.
What would be the point of that?
He looked around dazed, trying to gain his bearings from one of the more vivid, nonsensical dreams he'd had in some time. He also felt pangs of anxiety, as he had been dealing with the fear of losing control for some time now. Even his brother's words, while comforting, still hadn't completely erased that fear. Nor his therapist, nor Lucy, nor the medication.
It didn't help that his recent stinger also caused him worry.
When did he become such a neurotic mess?
He glanced at the phone, noticed the alarm ahead of his appointment was about to go off. He also noticed a text from Lucy.
Are you okay? Did I do something to upset you? Was it the prank?
Why would that be her first thought? They went to bed cuddling. He had to laugh. She was just as neurotic as he was. Maybe they really were made for each other. And truth be told, he found the prank funny, but would never admit it publicly. Eden Morgan already thought a lot of herself as it was.
He decided to send her one back, to calm her down. She needed all the calm she could get.
Nope. Just needed to clear my head. Fell asleep in the car. I'll be back soon. Love you.
The truth of the matter was, he drove all the way to Jersey for this. He wanted to meet his usual doctor about his neck, rather than deal with some new person. After getting x-rays done, he went outside to wait and that's when sleep hit. Now it was time to go back in and get his results, which hopefully showed he was fine.
Stingers happen all the time. It didn't mean anything was wrong. It couldn't.
He felt anxiety again and tried to will it away. It wouldn't go. He sighed and exited his truck, making his way to the doors of the office.
If there was one convenient thing about the pandemic, it's that you didn't have to wait long to see a doctor, if a doctor would actually see you. They didn't want people crowding together in this particular office, so you had to call when you got there, and if it was empty, they'd let you in. Then you got your fever checked, asked about the symptoms for the disease (he had none) and finally registered so you could get the appointment going.
No one was allowed in until the previous appointment was done.
As a noted misanthrope, he could get used to social distancing.
"Mr. Lee, welcome back."
"Yes. Are the results ready?"
"They are. Dr. Craig is waiting. Right this way."
He followed the nurse inside and was led straight back to the doctor's office. He sat down, unusually nervous for someone that's went his whole career fearing nothing. But this was his neck. This was something he'd had trouble with in the past.
And his doctor knew it.
"Okay, Joe. Obviously, your neck is a little different since you had the fusion surgery. I'm amazed you haven't been in here sooner given your high-risk career."
"If I remember right, you told me to give it up back in 2006."
"Yes, and I still think you should have. But we'll talk about that later."
He pulled the x-ray out of the folder and placed it up onto the light table on the wall. If the x-ray showed extensive damage, JC wouldn't be able to tell. He might as well have been looking at an inkblot test or a Jackson Pollack painting. All he saw was a neck, albeit one with a piece of bone fused to where a disc should have been. And he wouldn't be able to tell you which one it was.
Luckily there was a doctor to help him out.
"Okay, first of all, you didn't do anything extremely serious to the remaining discs, or the bone structure of your neck. I figure that's what you're relieved about. No ruptured discs like the last time. As for the brief feeling of paralysis, that was a pinched nerve."
Relief swept over him. A pinched nerve was nothing. He'd had that before in his shoulder. He felt stupid for not realizing it.
"That's great news. Really."
"That was the good news."
The anxiety pangs started up again. He felt his heart thudding in his chest.
"So what's the bad news?"
"The bad news is that the pinched nerve was caused by a herniated disc, shortly below where you had the fusion surgery."
"Herniated?"
"Bulging, slipped, whatever you want to call it. The point is, it's damaged, even if it's not as serious as a rupture."
"Did that happen when I fell on it?"
"The pinched nerve? The neck moved just so to allow the nerve to get caught by the disc. But it didn't cause the damage to the disc. That's the result of continued impact over years. And if you continue, it's going to rupture just like your other one."
"So what are you telling me?"
"I'm telling you that your neck is a time bomb. If you don't stop wrestling, eventually that bomb is going to go off and make the decision for you. At best, you'll just lose your career. At worst, you could be paralyzed for far longer than a few seconds."
JC sat in a daze. He knew his time in the business was running short. He was 44 and obviously, he had five years at best. Maybe more if he pushed it. He had adjusted his style way back in 2008 to avoid this very thing. But he supposed his neck was weakened by the first injury and it was only a matter of time.
Perhaps later he would muse about how the sport he loved for so long continued to take things away from him. But for now, he had nothing but questions. Later on, he would realize he didn't remember a single moment from what the doctor told him to arriving at his apartment with Lucy.
He was so lost in thought, everything was on autopilot. How would he tell Lucy? Would he tell Lucy? How much longer did he have now? How long did he really want to push it? Could even the Massive Melee be his last match? Was that even worth it?
So many questions and no one to answer them. A bunch of unknowns...and he hated the unknown.
No matter what he would ever tell anyone else, JC was scared.
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Fear.
I started my career as someone who claimed to not have any. That person was stupid, and ended up with a history of concussions and nearly crippled himself.
So instead of being someone who wrestled without fear, I turned into someone who wanted to instill fear. Not because I care what anyone thinks of me, because I never have. Oh sure, I appreciate when people are on my side. I care what my fiancee thinks, my brother, Trent Steel. But for the most part, the object of instilling fear is not an ego thing. I know how good I am. I don't need your validation.
Letting you know that you should be afraid is a warning. A promise. A cautionary tale. It's letting you know that I'm dangerous. Because the day my neck was broken, something else broke inside of me. I leaned into my desire for violent delights and gave some people some very violent ends.
The body count includes former champions, Hall of Famers, and more. I hurt people. It's what I do. It's what I'm best at, and I enjoy it.
Every time someone tells me they're not afraid, it doesn't upset me. Why would it? It just means they're going to throw themselves at me with reckless abandon, and much like I did in my younger days, and they're going to get hurt.
There's a point here kids, and I'm getting to it.
You see, when I started, I was the wild-eyed rookie with limitless potential. I won two world titles within a year of my debut. Then a third. Then the neck injury. My legacy was to be a wrestler whose star burned bright and then fizzled out just as quickly. A flash in the pan. A footnote in wrestling history that people looked back on, if they did, and wondered what might have been.
But I wouldn't let that be what defined me. I fought my way back and found my way into the OWF, where I won title after title. Then NLW, where I became the longest-reigning champion. Then back to OWF after a hiatus, where I became their final champion. My legacy would be different, I knew it. I had a great comeback story and would be something to aspire to.
The problem is, that's not what my legacy is.
My legacy is fear and destruction. That OWF run also saw me put a woman in a coma. It saw me destroy a young wrestler from New Jersey who reminded me of me, just because I was disgusted by who I used to be. It saw me brutalize my brother just for trying to help me.
Fast forward to my arrival in Carnage Wrestling, and in spite of my claims that I was still the best, I have nothing to show for it. Two tag team title reigns and not much else. I didn't even really chase the titles, because I didn't think I needed to. My legacy was set, or so I thought. Instead, it was being rewritten. In that time I ended the career of one man. I broke the back of another. I beat another young rookie within an inch of his life and he hasn't been seen since.
There it is again. Destruction. Mayhem. Pain.
It took an act of betrayal by someone I love to put me on the right path and here I am in UGWC. I'm trying desperately to claw my way to the top because I don't have a clue how much longer I have left. I'm not as good as I once was. I've had to learn to adapt my style, change how I approach the matches. But I'm still here, and damn it, even my 75% is better than most of your 100 percents.
I said when I got here that I wanted to become the UGWC World Champion. I made it clear from day one that this was my goal. I've been single-minded about it. And now, we're at Massive Melee. A huge match where I get the chance to send myself to Wrestlestock and compete for the prize that has eluded me.
More than that, I get to compete for the ability to rewrite my story. To show that JC isn't just some brute who ended careers. There was a man with passion. A man with pride. Someone who loved this business enough that he sacrificed two marriages, his own health and countless friendships just to remain a part of it. A man whose done things that he will always regret and have to live with, no matter how much it keeps him up at night.
I can rewrite the tale into a story of redeeming oneself. Of showing the world that I am not my past sins. I am not who I used to be. I will take my experience, my talent and my passion and redefine who the industry sees me as.
But I have to get there first. And I know what you're thinking. 'But JC', you might say, 'Tempest dropped you on your head and eliminated you last Synergy.' 'There are several former world champions in that match!' 'You don't know when you're going to enter!'
And to you, the doubters, I say it doesn't matter. It's true. Tempest did win on one night. I'll never take that away from him. And it's true, the competition is fierce. I have a lot working against me. And the Massive Melee is, admittedly, the biggest possible roadblock preventing me from doing that.
That's the thing though. I've been breaking things my entire life. What's to stop me from breaking this latest barrier and claiming my happy ending? I don't think I deserve it, but I damn sure think I've earned it. There are 29 of you in this match and you all think you want this more than I do. You think you deserve it. But you don't. You don't have a clue how badly I need this.
This isn't just a win. It's not just a title shot. It's grabbing a pen and writing the ending of my career on my terms, no one else's. No doctor. No promoter. No other wrestler. No one is going to tell me who I am.
I write my story. I define my legacy.
So Tempest? Good job getting me eliminated. You helped me see some holes in my game plan that I needed to patch. It won't happen again.
And the rest of you? The Gabriel Baals, the Alan Wallaces, hell even the Duncan Ryders who think they can define me with a parody and a tweet. All of you. Every last one. As far as I'm concerned, the fact you're even standing there at all is an insult to everything I've ever worked for and accomplished. I will throw out each and every one of you for daring to try and fucking stop me.
So bring it on. I don't care who is in the announced field, I don't care who is a surprise guest. I just..don't care. This isn't ego talking, this is me announcing I'm going to give every last bit of myself in that ring to win this thing. It's cliche to say that you'll have to kill me to get rid of me, and illogical, but you're going to have to come really fucking close.
I don't feel the need to mention you one by one, because it's cliche and tired. And besides, I welcome anyone that wants to try and make a name off of me. I'll make sure you find your seat on the floor in a hurry. There's only one person I really want to mention now and they're not even in the match.
Angelica Vaughn, I will see you at Wrestlestock.
And then I will take my rightful place back on the throne.
