The world was supposed to bow before me but instead the world beneath me has crumbled. Sebastian Duke made it impossible for me to breath and it was I who failed the men I promised I would never forget... Why are their faces now made of mist yet two eyes burn true. Sebastian Duke's fierce red eyes haunt me. They're in the back of my eye lids and whenever I blink or close my eyes I see his. The rage and the craze that took over him before he nearly ended my early career in front of thousands and thousands of people...
That war may be over but it seems like another one is about to begin... The war of the apparent.
What does it matter any more though? I was blinded by my decisions when I believed it mattered who controlled this federation. Of course I was wrong. It doesn't matter one little bit.
As I awoke from my sleep in a soaked puddle of sweat, I shook my head and Duke's glaring eyes finally vanished for the day. Those torturous flames would no longer burn me from the inside. Not today at least. A hollow knock could be heard, I put on my gown and slowly made my way into the living room... I went to answer the door but I noticed that Ammon had already some how entered the apartment and made himself comfortable on my sofa.
“You know, you really need to stop letting yourself in like that, it's beginning to get rather creepy.”
“Ah what does it matter, you're a failure now anyway. How does it feel to be the man that let everyone down?”
“It feels numbing. The same way I have felt since the day I was imprisoned. It just feels like these invisible shackles around my wrists have got tighter. People continue to taunt me and haunt me and I have only just recovered from Sebastian Duke's powerful submission manoeuvre.”
“Yes, yes. Boo hoo. You can't say I didn't warn you. You underestimated the power of The Company AND Sebastian Duke. You know, that's two losses in a row for you now. Elisha beat you fair and square and then you lost in the biggest event of them all. It must be so frustrating to be the hugest disappointment...”
Boiling with rage I grabbed Ammon by the throat and picked him up from the sofa. I stared him in the eye, my teeth grinding against one another in an eerie fury. Ammon smiled though, and looked directly back into my eyes...
“I made mistakes Ammon. Don't tell me you never made any. I am sick of your fucking illusions and riddles. You're the mysterious man who's hear to help yet all you do is bicker and taunt. Tell me why I shouldn't beat the shit out of you right here right now?”
“How would it look if the police officer recently released from jail then got done for assault aye?”
He had me there. Angrily, I threw him to the sofa, and sorted my hair out.
“I have nothing to lose any more so don't tempt me.”
“There's always plenty to lose Ambrose... I wouldn't want to see things end badly for you, I mean, you have so much potential...”
“Do you think I am scared Ammon? Is that it? You think I fear death? You think I fear all of these threats? You think that I care that I am in danger? You are wrong. I learnt how to die a long time ago. I'm a soldier of the night, and that's what we're trained to do. We're prepared for anything including death. Do you think I would trade in my beliefs for what? A few more years of torture? What do you WANT!?”
“I WANT YOU TO DO WHAT IS RIGHT. No more fear, no more cowardice and no more excuses. Forget Sebastian Duke, forget redemption and begin to focus. You're facing John Austin on Monday, are you ready for him? I won't watch you burn.”
“Let me burn. The man's all words. He says he's “John Fucking Austin”, his parents must be badass to give him such a sick middle name. AH I know, I am not the type of guy to make jokes, well what of it? The man who preaches about sealing souls and insane fetishes. I don't care what runs through his mind. I want to bleed with intensity, that's why I challenged him to a hardcore match. I know I will be put through hell against him, but it doesn't matter. Let the flames engulf me, it matters not, Ambrose Helios always comes out the other side. Exploding into a sexual frustration in a wrestling match? May as well send me back to prison, I never dropped that fucking soap. I think John Austin might be better off wrestling Frodo Smackins' corpse than me, then he can whatever sick pleasure he wants.”
“Yes, yes, mock him all you like but he's a fucking good wrestler. And he has a point, he's a former United States Champion, a household name, what have you done?”
“Former. He's a FORMER United States Champion. He's a FORMER household name. What has he done since except for lose on a weekly basis? Yes I have done nothing because I only just got here. I lost to Elisha and I lost to Sebastian Duke, they are not shameful losses. I don't claim them to be my proudest moments either. Austin seems happy that he lost to Steve Davids. Austin seems happy he lost to Wyatt Reynolds. The man's a fool. I need to move on from these defeats, I know that, but I don't cling on to past victories...”
I see Ammon smiling in the corner of my eye.
“Something funny Ammon?”
“No. It's just, you do care. You make out as if your reputation means nothing to you and that you're used to it yet you struggle to sleep at night. You call yourself the man in shackles because of the hate that has been stamped on you and you then you expect me to truly believe that you're fine? You're willing to go through pain and hell and take another defeat because it doesn't matters?”
“I never mentioned losing... I mentioned pain.”
I turned away now and grabbed a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and placed it on my swollen eye. I went to speak to Ammon but he had vanished in a puff of smoke, well that's how it seemed but maybe less magical.
He was right though, I am not even sure if I believed my own argument. And when I look down, they're still there... Around my wrists.
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