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Sarah's Solemn Soulmate - Printable Version

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Sarah's Solemn Soulmate - Charlie Nickles - 09-15-2020 10:26 PM



Come stop your crying
It will be all right
Just take my hand hold it tight

I will protect you
From all around you
I will be here
Don't you cry

For one so small
You seem so strong
My arms will hold you
Keep you safe and warm

This bond between us
Can't be broken
I will be here
Don't you cry

[Image: FmvooWx.jpg]

The camera follows Charlie as he walks between the tiki torches set out along the beachfront. The setting sun provides the perfect backdrop for this holy day of matrimony. Charlie’s suit looks fresh as fuck, he definitely dropped at least a couple Gs on his jet black get-up with the blue pocketsquare to boot. His hair is clean, brushed, and braided. His beard looks recently trimmed. His love waits for him at the altar, anxious with anticipation. Besides her stands...OH SHIT IS THAT THE MASKED UNDERTAKER? Wait. Nevermind. It’s just the decomposing corpse of Jean-Paul Lacklan. The man’s rotted body smells like worm shit. The flesh beneath his dirty mask has been decaying for years, and it looks as such. Well, the little of it that is left.

The dozens of hours of reconstructive surgery performed for Jean-Paul Lacklan by Dr. Edward Roberts, the plastic surgery specialist at the Maine Medical center, had all been for naught. The surgical implants, the transplanted flesh, all of it, had been consumed by the worms feasting upon the corpse of the late ‘great’ Lacklan. But all that could be readily observed from behind his nasty mask was the stench of decay.

Jean-Paul’s daughter, however, looked stunning in the light of the setting sun. Sarah’s white wedding dress is simple, yet eloquent. Modest, yet appealing. Her head is hidden beneath the silky veil that covers her face. Despite wearing her tallest heels, Sarah still appears too short to ride most of the rides at the amusement park. Luckily enough for her, it looks like she happens to meet the requirements to ride the Chuckster.

Charlie steps into the ivory wedding cabana. He nods at Jean-Paul’s animated corpse before turning to face Sarah. Charlie has a tender look in his eye and a satisfied smile on his face. Sarah places her hands in Charlie’s as the two look at each other, their view of their respective soulmate partially obscured through the veil. Jean-Paul Lacklan breaks into a familiar sermon as the lovers hold each other’s hands with giddiness.

Jean-Paul Lacklan Said:You understand that women, as a breed, are inferior. You understand that they are below us, that their purpose in life is to support us, to stand behind us. To serve us, to be subservient. We agree on these points, certainly. A large part of my career has been spent fighting women, hurting them, ruining them. They do not belong in the ring. They do not belong at our sides. They do not deserve to look us in the eye.

Jean-Paul Lacklan extends his rotted hand out in Sarah’s direction. He is missing most of the fingers on his hand, with only a boney thumb and a middle finger left on his body after the years of decomposition. His skin, what little is left of it, is sickly green and stained with mud and dirt...or is that just worm shit? None the less Jean-Paul grabs Sarah by her chin. He forcibly turns her head to the side, directing his daughter to look at the ground near Charlie instead of meeting his gaze. Jean-Paul brings his decayed hand back to his side as he turns to face the much larger, much cooler looking, much more feminist Charlie Nickles.

Jean-Paul Lacklan Said:
"It is amazing how much damage one man can do."

Charlie nodded in polite appreciation of the corpse’s words.

Jean-Paul Lacklan Said:
"Certainly, when your mind is set to it, you can do much. And when God Himself instructs you? Only the imagination creates a limit."

Charlie: Why thank you, sir. I will make you proud. I will cherish your daughter. Dominate her as God intended. Now...may I kiss my bride?

Jean-Paul Lacklan nods at Charlie. Sarah turns her head to face Charlie as he goes to lift her veil. As the veil comes over her face you can see that her gaze is still directed downwards. Her facial features are soft. Her skin is smooth and well maintained. A light blue eye shadow is the only hint of makeup visible to Charlie, who is unaware of the existence of foundation.

Charlie: You are so naturally beautiful, Sarah.

Sarah’s lips have been sewn shut. The thread holding her lips together seems like it may be causing an infection as her lips have a slight swelling to go alongside their discoloration. Droplets of blood slide down her chin as Charlie leans in to kiss her.

CHARLES

CHARLES

CHARLES


The thundering voice breaks through the daydream as Charlie opens his eyes. He looks around with visible confusion as to his surroundings. The painful throbbing in the front of his skull re-emerges as Charlie is forced to awaken back in the land of the living. A tall man with cornrows and a friendly smile is standing at the foot of Charlie’s hospital bed, clipboard and pen in hand.

Doctor: Hey they, Charles. Glad to see you’re awake. How are you feeling?

Charlie blinks at the doctor a few times, smacking his lips together as he stretches his arms up in the air.

Charlie: Feeeeelllliiiinnng good, doc.

Doctor: Good, good! You seem to be recovering quite well. I just have a couple of questions for you.

Charlie pulls himself up to a seated position in his bed by gripping the side of his bed with both palms. His burned palm tingles with painful sensations as Charlie wraps it around the side of the bed. Charlie sits patiently, waiting for the doctor to ask whatever questions he needs.

Doctor: How’s your arm feeling?

Charlie: Pretty good, pretty good. Few shocks here and there, but pretty good.

Charlie demonstrates by rotating his previously injured shoulder and moving his arm about in a controlled manner.

Doctor: Good, good.

The doctor scribbles a few notes down on his clipboard.

Doctor: And how is your head feeling? Looked like you suffered some nasty bumps. Have you felt any pain? Any discomfort?

Charlie: Nope.

Doctor: Any memory loss, blurred vision, loss of motor skills?

Charlie: Not at all.

The doctor jots a few things down on his notepad.

Doctor: Any mood swings, sudden fits of anger, thoughts of hurting yourself or others?

Charlie: Well, I’m a wrestler, doc...

The doctor laughs heartily, placing his hand on his belly as it inflates and deflates with each guffaw.

Doctor: Good point, good point. Anything beyond the usual for you?

Charlie: Nope. Totally baseline.

Doctor: Good, good. You took some nasty head damage, but it seems like you managed to avoid getting a concussion. You know, my good friend Doc Sampson works over at some other wrestling company. He told me people are always exaggerating how often wrestlers get concussions. He says you guys got some of the thickest skulls he’s ever seen.

Charlie is non-responsive. He just looks at the doctor as the doctor carries on.

Doctor: Aaaannnnnd so how is your mouth feeling? Any soreness, bleeding, discomfort?

Charlie: Feel’s fine, doc.

Doctor: Good, good. The sutures should dissolve naturally in the coming weeks. If they’re still present in a month’s time, you will want to contact your physician.

Charlie gives a disinterested thumbs up to the doctor.

Doctor: That’s…

The doctor looks down at his clipboard, flipping a couple pages over as he scours for some specific detail.

Doctor: Your primary care physician is….

The doctor continues to scan through the pages on the clipboard.

Doctor: It says here your primary doctor is a psychiatrist by the name of Sharice Avalon? It looks like she faxed over your prescriptions this morning. Says here she wants us to get you started on a couple of different medications. I’ll have the nurse get those ready for you with your dinner. Then we’ll dispense them every 12 hours after that point.

Charlie: I hate that fucking therapist. She never has anything helpful to say. Just leave her shit out of this all, doc.

The doctor raises an inquisitive eyebrow at Charlie as he taps his pen against the clipboard.

Doctor: You’re having problems with your mental health care provider?

Charlie: It’s nothing but problems with that pill pushing banana receptacle.

The doctor is a bit confused by the insult, but carries on, sensing a major opportunity for Mercy Medical Center.

Doctor: Well, I hate to be a salesman, but…

The doctor takes a few steps towards Charlie with a warm smile on his face.

Doctor: We recently brought on an excellent psychoanalyst. He’s been a tremendous addition to our resident faculty so far. He is on loan to us from one of the premier mental health clinics in Ljubljana. They really do cutting edge work over there. World class work. World CHAMPION work, if you will. Say…..the X.W.F. does cover all your health insurance now, right?

Charlie shrugged.

Doctor: Well no matter. I’ll check with our administrators. But if you wish, we can schedule you for an appointment with him. Get a second opinion on this…..’Doctor’ Avalon’s prognosis. How’s that sound to you?

Charlie shrugged.

Doctor: Great. I’ll talk to the nurses and have them pencil you in for sometime tomorrow. But in the meantime, we will have to dispense the medicines as prescribed by your primary care provider. Hospital policy, all that good stuff. Can’t afford any more malpractice suits. We’ll get started on the paperwork. You just sit tight and get some rest, okay?

Charlie: Sounds good, doc.

LATER THAT NIGHT

Charlie and Jeffy sit across from each other at a small folding table placed along the back wall of the boiler room. The green pipes, heaters, and boilers occasionally hiss as excess pressure is released. The room is a bit hot, as evidenced by the hints of perspiration running across Charlie's face. His bruising has gone down considerably and he seems to be moving his limbs freely and without discomfort. The pain within, however, is growing by the day.

Jeffy: Haha! I sunk your battleship, BITCH!

Jeffy breaks out into hysterics as he wins the game of battleship. Charlie's aircraft carrier has lost it's final slot as Jeffy wins yet another board game. Charlie narrows his eyes at Jeffy. Charlie blinks a few times, holding his eyelids shut extra tight....hoping, beyond all reason, that such minor effort could displace the mounting discomfort gnawing at his brain.

Charlie: You're growing a bit too comfortable, don't you think?

Charlie raises a deceptively playful eyebrow at Jeffy, who takes one last hit of his joint before putting it out on the table. He blows a super sick dragon with the smoke from his lungs. That's right, a dragon with pure ganja smoke. None of this vaping bullshit. Jeffy's a real toker.

Jeffy: You're just pissy because I keep whooping your ass. But hey man, don't worry about it. It's nothing compared to what Sarah's going to do to you!

Jeffy laughs as he trades jokes with what he assumes, for some reason, to be his new friend. Charlie's icey eyes immediately seize upon the stoner with hatred. His resentful gaze peers deep within Jeffy's hazel irises. Charlie sees nothing but buffoonery, failure, and complacency within the soul of the stoner seated across the table. The stinging pain behind Charlie's eyes begins to subside as his negative energy is funneled into his growing hatred of Jeffy.

Jeffy: Oh shit man, I forgot, I had something to show you! I saw it on Ebay this afternoon. You’re really gonna love it.

Jeffy picks his phone up off the table and pulls up the Ebay listing. He slides the phone over to Charlie, who picks it up with a mixed look of annoyance and resentment. As soon as his gaze shifts to the Ebay listing, however, his facial features immediately soften.

Charlie: Is this real?

Jeffy: Shiiiiit for that much money, it better be! Could you imagine paying such an insane price for a fake?

Charlie: Buy it.

Jeffy: Huh?

Charlie: Buy it. We can’t let just anyone get their hands on that.

Jeffy: That’s like, half the money in my bank account dude! I can’t afford that. I just wanted to show it to you.

Charlie: Jeffy, Jeffy, Jeffy….I’m going to pay you back. I’m a big wrestling star. You know I have money falling out of my pockets.

Jeffy: You’re always talking about how broke you are. How you came from nothing, are fighting with nothing but the shirt on your back.

Charlie: That’s just for the cameras. Could a broke bastard afford such an extended stay in the Mercy Medical Center? Think about it. Don’t be an idiot. I’ll pay you back. Just put in your bank information, have them ship it to X.W.F. headquarters with my name on it- they’ll know how to find me, and then I’ll have the whole refund transferred to your account. And then a little extra, too, just to thank you for your help.

Charlie lied through his teeth as he handed the phone back to Jeffy. Jeffy simply shrugged, taking the phone and placing the order. A small smirk spread across his face as he clicked ‘confirm’.

Jeffy: How much are you gonna tip Jeffy out for?

Charlie: Oh Jeffy, so much that you don’t even have to worry about it.

Jeffy: Haha, yes! I knew being a janitor would pay off one day. Just make sure Lacklan doesn’t beat your ass so hard that you forget you owe me money!

Jeffy chuckles as Charlie’s expression goes dark once again.

Jeffy: Hey man, all jokes aside, did you see all that shit Sarah's been saying? She's really trying to go for a face turn, huh? As if any of us in 'R' slash X.W.F. will ever get behind that brat. So what if you rape her? We hate her!

Charlie's peering gaze slowly travels down to the man's exposed neck. Charlie pictures himself bolting across the table and choking the life out of this man's eyes. Charlie shakes his head from side to side, trying to clear his mind as Jeffy rambles on.

Jeffy: Now I know that story you told everyone about the coffee shop and all that shit is probably fake, right? I mean, you were probably just trying to cause controversy. Shit, how else were you going to get that title shot my dude? You had literally just lost. You beat...what? Kris Von Douche? Fantasia? I mean, come on. You weren't getting booked for the main event based on those credentials. But you know what, Charlie? That's what I love about you. You're always stirring the pot, creating a little controversy, getting the fans going! But damn, you really got to Sarah. She is releasing these little videos where she's damn near pissing herself in fear! And they're not even sexy! She's fucking terrified of you.

Charlie looks up, his expression regretful and remorseful. His mouth slightly agape, as if he was just informed of shocking news. His lips curled into a frown as he brought his hands together on the table.

Charlie: She's....afraid?

Charlie sounded confused. The loose skin on his face crinkled as he furrowed his brow in quiet contemplation.

Jeffy: Well, yeah dude....you're like two hundred pounds bigger than her, almost as old as her dad, with a bunch of muscles and a penchant for smashing people's skulls in. And you like, told her you were gonna rape her and stuff at the match.


Scattered memories race through Charlie's head. His fragmented recollections of the weeks leading up to his concussion blur together inside the catacombs of his mind. His heart rate steadily increases as his breathing goes shallow.

Charlie: No...no. That's....that's not me. I LOVE Sarah. I want to be with her in mind, body, and soul for eternity. You know, I was never much a religious man. I prayed to Jesus here and there, but wasn't much for church and the bible. I wasn't all the way there. But when I gaze into her eyes? I see absolute proof of God. A soulmate, built just for me to cherish and enjoy. How could God not be real? How could Sarah and I be so perfect for each other, such spiritual kin, if it were not made so by a higher power? I would never hurt her. Where do you get these notions?

Charlie asked Jeffy the question with sincerity in his voice and expression. Jeffy looked back at the hardcore garbage wrestler with deep confusion. He couldn't tell if Charlie was joking, or truly insane.

Charlie: Are these lies being fed to the people? The globalists will stop at nothing to undermine our Lord's plans. Sarah and I were put on this planet for each other. I would never harm a hair on her precious body without divine command. I want to be there for her, in her darkest hours, when her failure to live up to her father's name brings her to tears in the middle of the night. I want to be there for her, during the family Christmas celebrations at the Lacklanland manor, when her sister Angelica is gloating, reminiscing about the time that she stripped Sarah of the U.G.W.C championship belt and forced her to leave the federation as the shame overwhelmed her. I want to be there for her, when she sees the children running happy on the playground, ruminating upon the medical conditions which leaves her barren. I would never violate her. I'm a good man. A decent man. A family man.

Jeffy: Ok, but like.....huh? I thought you hated her. You know, calling her a slut, telling people to go look at her little nudey tapes, attacking her with a steel chain...I mean, what the fuck? You're pulling Jeffy's leg right now, aren't you? You sly dog, you. Come on man. We both know Sarah is little hussy.

Charlie: Watch your mouth, boy. It would be nothing for me to reach across this table and rip your tongue out through your throat.

The sudden shift in tone took Jeffy by complete surprise. He reels back in his chair, eyeing Charlie with growing suspicion.

Jeffy: What the fuck?!

Charlie: Don't think I won't do it, boy. When you insult a man's soulmate, you're insulting his divine property. Insulting God himself. And to my Lord, every sin is cardinal. Heresy. Deception. Adultery. Depravity. When you insult the Lord, you're no better than that mulatto devil leading Sarah astray. Away from the predestined path of our Lord. Two women? Disgusting. Unholy. Sarah needs to be saved. Brought back into the light. And I'm just the Shepard to bring her back into the flock.

Jeffy: Weren't you like...banging hookers and snorting blow a month ago?

Charlie: Times change, people change, the Lord works in mysterious ways. Every man can be saved. Some of us are saved at birth, but others aren't saved for years. They exist in this cruel, deceitful, sinful world. But the Lord will find a way to save every soul that wants it. That wants to spend eternity by his side, staring down with glee at the sinners trapped forever in Lucifer's fiery playpen. The Lord saved me when he sent me Sarah. When I saw her beauty, her grace, her perfection: I knew it was all made for Charlie by the big man above. It's simply too good to be true. And Sarah? The Lord is saving Sarah on September 27th, when he sends me down that entrance ramp to retrieve his championship belt hanging high in the heavens above the ring. When I release that title belt, I will be releasing Sarah's soul from the sinful hands of her false lover. She will come home with me, come home to God, just like that championship belt.

Jeffy: You gotta keep this same energy up, man! You could cut a killer promo right now. This little Jesus freak thing, the people are gonna eat it up.

Charlie sighed in frustration as Jeffy continually pressed his demand to film promos. The throbbing sensation behind Charlie’s eyes grew more and more bothersome the longer his gaze remained upon Jeffy.

Charlie: No. I have no interest in your bulls-

Charlie stops mid sentence as a thought pops into his head. His exasperated expression morphs into a sinister smirk as he leans forward on the table.

Charlie: You know what, Jeffy? You’re right. Let’s go shoot a promo. Come on.

Charlie stands up expectantly, motioning for Jeffy to follow suit. The janitor excitedly rises to his feet. Charlie starts walking towards the steaming hot boiler across the room. Jeffy is following behind, pulling up the video recording app on his phone.

Jeffy: So for this one, Charlie, I figure you should just tear into that little bimbo. Call her a trashy little lesbo and say you’re gonna bring the hammer of God down on her! You’re gonna bloody her up. Smash her skull into little pieces, make her repent for licking that sweet sweet creamy Kenzi puss’.

The two men step up to the boiler. It is hotter than a motherfucker, with water particles streaming down the side of the machine. They never reach the bottom, however, as the heat forces the droplets to evaporate well before they finish their descent. The hissing of pressure being released from the clanking machine is incredibly loud, but not quite overbearing.

Charlie: I have a better idea, boy…

Charlie grabs Jeffy by the scruff of his neck, pushing his face forward until he’s just an inch away from the hot sheets of metal! Jeffy’s screams are partially obfuscated by the loud machine. Jeffy tries to pull himself back, but Charlie's grip is much to firm. He continues to struggle and squirm as Charlie berates him.

Charlie: I told you to watch your mouth, boy. To speak on my Sarah the way you do? Unacceptable. Intolerable. You’re nothing in this world. But Sarah? She’s EVERYTHING to me. If one more rotten word comes out of your foul mouth, I’ll burn you alive, strap you down to this boiler as I watch it melt your flesh. Watch as it boils away the sin. Think before you speak, boy. I’ve had enough of you.

Jeffy is still screaming as the sweat pouring down from his face drenches his clothing. Charlie pushes him to the ground away from the boiler. Once Jeffy's body hits the concrete floor he immediately curls up in the fetal position. Jeffy begins to hyperventilate as Charlie looks down at him. Charlie shakes his head from side to side, the pain within his skull subsiding as he steps over the fallen janitor.