They say there's a lot of scary things in life. There's scary movies, scary people, scary places. But too me, the scariest thing of them all is losing routine. They say that if you cut out water, food, war, you start losing your shit, real bad. But after so long of that period of fear, you eventually adapt, and make the most out of it. But what happens if your routine is constantly developing? And you have no time too adapt?


Than you're fucked.


Pssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...





Pssssssssssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...







PPPPSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.




CLICK.

I awoke in my room. I had the same dream again, the static of a Television going off. You would think after being away from TV you would forget the sound, but some things don't leave you.




Creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek...

???: "Mr. Valley? Can you hear me? I assume we're doing well this morning?"

I could barely recognize who it was that opened my cell door, but after my vision came back too me, I wish I didn't at all. It was one of this prison's local threapists, but too the inmates, they were just some quacks who wanted too make a quick buck off your emotions. Hearing him say my name was like a sharp pain, as I got up I responded too him with a stretch of my back.



Chris Valley: "Loud-n-clear doc. What're you in here for?"

Hearing my gruff yet relaxed tone hit my ears is a reminder that I'm in control. It's a good feeling too talk sometimes, even if the listener's a little shit. He went on too talk.

Quack: "It's the Warden. He wants to speak too you. You've got five minutes before you're too see him."

I didn't waste anytime too get up from my bed, put on my shoes and socks they let you have, and make my way out with the Quack. It was fifteen minutes before everyone was let out of their cells for lunch, Warden must be generous today. Quack and I make our way up too the third floor of the prison, and it's not long before I'm nose to door of the Warden. There are two officers facing me, each side of the door blocked, and they show me a pair of cuffs.

Chris Valley: "You boys sure that's needed? I would've thought you could go out and get yerselves a two-bit gangster for that kinky shit."

I couldn't care what they did too me, but it doesn't mean it doesn't piss me off. I felt a stiff blow too the back of my head from one of the other officer's batons. The two in front of me chuckle before locking my hands together with the steel, and off I'm set into the Warden's office. Surprisingly, it's only the big man in the chair, which is turned back facing me. No officers. No nothing, he must got a real set on him today.

Chris Valley: "Mornin'.""

Warden: "Good Morning, Mr. Valley."

There's an eerie silence as he turns around in his chair, staring at me with his wrinkled old eyes. I noticed that he's got a few papers on a clipboard in his hand, he's looking over them now as I wait there with no word. This could be about anything... maybe I'm getting out... maybe I commit murder right here and now... either way, I'm not gonna be here much longer.


Warden: "Valley... are a you a fan of Professional Wrestling, by any chance?"

Looks like it was gonna be murder. He's just gonna call me in for a little sports chat? What a joke. I could feel myself roll my eyes by instinct, but physically, I smiled and shook my head.

Chris Valley: "I guess five years in a prison with no television doesn't let you keep up with your hobbies but... sure, I was somewhat invested with it."

Warden: "Oh-ho-ho-ho... you're right on that."

He's got that old man charm too 'em. Too bad I was about too strangle the guy. The last man too kill the last warden we had was shot point blank in the head. I figure that's a good way too get out, but the window in the room seems like the option I want. I always wanted too fly. But the old man went on too speak as I came over too sit in the chair in front of him.

Warden: "I want too make this short and sweet with your Christopher... I like you. I think you're a very, intriuging man. And although I don't condone your violence, I belive you can be helpful too this prision. You see.. there's a promotion known as XWF coming into town this week... I'd like for you too participate in their company."

Ding...ding...fucking...ding. I'm out. I'm free. I could barely contain myself, but I do, the papers... the personal space between us... I'm getting out.

Chris Valley: "As in, compete? I'm getting payed too fight?..."

Warden: "Technically, yes... and no. Your earnings will become property of this prision. But trust me, this will be a good thing for you and everyone else involved."

So, not completely free. I can dig it. I really can.


[color=#4B0082]Warden: "All you need too do my friend, is sign this paper. You'll be starting soon. I'll give you some time too say your goodbyes. From here on out, you're a free man."

I never signed something so fast in my life. This old man I had considered killing just freeed me from a 15 year sentence. I didn't even know what I was getting myself into, but I knew I didn't care. I was finally out of here, and I don't need too adapt. I just need too bash skulls like always... I don't know what the XWF really is, but I do know that I don't respect it. Which is only gonna make this easier for me... everyone's about too know what it's like too be deprived of routine when I come knockin'.

"Every dog's got his day."

The Pride of Boston