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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Warfare Boards » Warfare RP Board
Fairy Tale: Part 3
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Corey Smith Offline
Active in XWF



XWF FanBase:
Some of everyone

(cheered; very rarely plays dirty but isn't lame either; many likable qualities)


#1
01-11-2022, 06:53 PM

Recap

Last time, Corey and his mysterious new friend Pan managed to stop a serial killer who was using Pan as a cover for his own crimes. Unfortunately, as they were attempting to escape to Neverland (or so Pan said), someone was shot!

All this is set against the backdrop of Corey mentally preparing for his battle with Lycana, what he views as a classic good versus evil struggle. But are things that clear cut? As Corey continues to question his own ethics and sense of self, will he attain the clarity he so desperately desires, or will other factors lead him astray? Find out….NOW.



The atmosphere in the interview room was oppressive. And to think, it wasn’t even 4 days ago that the circumstances were so, so, different, with Pan on this side of the table fielding the police (and Corey’s) lines of questioning. But now, it was Corey’s turn at bat. He blinked away the haze of smoke as Detective Chandler stubbed out another cigarette.

I thought you weren’t supposed to smoke in here anymore.

Well, he breathed, sitting back in his chair, I’m commanding officer here today and I’ve decided today is definitely a smoking day. Why? He points at Corey. Because this is the most fucked case of my entire career and YOU are right in the thick of it.

Is Pan okay? Corey cut right through the reprobation.

He’s recovering. The hospital said he woke up this morning. He’s strong.

Good…Corey’s thoughts veered off, returning to the terror he felt in the tub as Pan was shot. No, before then, when he wasn’t sure who the bullet had hit, and Corey questioned if he would be breathing his last beside this strange boy and his even stranger mission.

I’m not so sure.

What do you mean?

The detective produced a list of names, with a bevy of scribblings over it, half parsed thoughts and questions. But some of the names had been crossed out. The forensics team has been able to positively identify some of the bodies. But going by the numbers, quite a few of those kids are still missing.

Well, maybe he just disposed of them somewhere else. It pained Corey to think of them in such callous terms.

Maybe. But why some and not others? The detective shrugged. Point is, your boy isn’t off the hook. We still have missing kids out there somewhere that he may know something about.

Corey nodded solemnly. It was like a gut punch, but shouldn’t have been so surprising. Real life rarely squared itself away wearing a neat bow. He said that Sumpter had been following him, swooping in on the kids Pan was trying to help and using Pan as a scapegoat. So isn’t it possible this was happening the entire time?

The detective sighed. Think about it Corey, how would Pan have been on Sumpter’s radar the whole time? It doesn’t make sense. And besides, we have a possible cause identified for Sumpter’s…madness. He drew out the admission of the word. He had a brain tumor. A big fuck off one that the docs said could absolutely have effected his reasoning and ability to determine fantasy from reality. Kind of like that guy who climbed the clocktower and started picking off Undergrads at Texas U back in the ‘60’s. He had a brain tumor too, and the docs back then said it could have had something to do with him snapping.

Sounds like a sound excuse for the FBI to make for not realizing a spree killer was one of their own.

Chandler smirked sardonically. Sounds just like, don’t it? But my point is this. This investigation is far from over. And then we have the matter of you two and your B and E of an FBI Special Agent’s home that ended with two parties in the hospital.

Corey threw his arms out in an expression of disbelief. We caught a killer!

Yes, yes you did. Which is why the DA seems inclined to grant you some leniency. However Corey, and I say this as a favor to you, a lot of people are starting to notice that you’re mixed up in a whole lot of trouble. That death on your commune, and now this? Not to mention all the community pushback…

That you said you’d help with! Corey cut in. Or should I not expect that anymore?

I didn’t say that. But you sure are making it harder to go to bat for you. But, that being said… the detective trailed off with a sort of unspoken implication.

Corey looked down, worrying his hands together. No, like I already said, Pan didn’t give me anything else to go on. Except for whatever that weird feeling in the tub was, amongst other oddities.

Hmmm. The detective replied noncommittally. We’re taking another run at Pan tomorrow after he’s had a bit more time to recover. But if you think of anything else, make sure you give me a shout.

Am I free to go?

You always were. The detective jerks a thumb back at the door. Corey gets up to leave but the officer has one more thing on his mind. And good luck against Lycana. She seems like a beast.

Now THAT is someone the Feds should be investigating. Corey intoned with a touch of bitterness before stepping by and closing the door behind him.

Corey wound his way back through the station, once more feeling the onslaught of accusing stares and silent recriminations. Christian was right where Corey had left him, sitting on a bench in the waiting area. Rushing up to Corey, he unleashed a torrent of questions. Is everything ok? Are they pressing charges? What’s going on?

Corey put a hand to his forehead, leading Christian out the door. Hold on…hold on…I’m still trying to put all this together myself.

Christian jogged out in front of Corey, stopping him in his tracks and asking a more pointed question. Are you going to jail?

No. That much I can be sure of. Then, reaching the car, Corey continues to speak over the hood. They’re probably not pressing charges because we helped find the killer. But…it’s not over.

A look flashed over Christian’s features as he opened the door. An admixture of fear and anger. Corey sat down in the car and pulled his door shut. Suddenly, the car felt as oppressive as the interview room. Christian stared straight ahead, running his tongue over his lips and tapping on the steering wheel nervously. Finally, he spoke. It IS over, Corey.

Huh?

You need to stop.

What do you…?

You know what I mean. Christian finally looked at him, and his expression was steely. You almost died! Do you understand that?!

Of course I do.

But do you understand the ramifications of that? How that would have hurt so many people who care about you!

Corey’s gaze sank down to his lap. Just say what you're going to say.

Christian snorted and shook his head. I don’t want this for us. Why don’t you get that?

Corey didn’t speak. It was a conversation they had before. And now they were having it again.

You just have this pressing need to be a fucking superhero all the time, ‘Cor. As if the XWF wasn’t enough, as if getting in the ring with psychos like Lycana wasn’t enough!

That wasn’t my call.

But it would have been your call. COULD have been your call. Right? And then, when Corey doesn’t respond immediately, he prods again. RIGHT? Of course…of course…. Christian’s head canted downward, and Corey realized he was tearing up. You know what I want ‘Cor?

I…

No, no! Just stop and listen. Stop everything and listen! He breathes in deep before proceeding, but the tautness in his throat made it difficult for him to speak. I want the white picket fence with you. I want to adopt a child with you. I want to grow old with you. I want us to be that old couple that doesn’t need to speak because the love is IMPLICIT. I want that. I want that! He pounded his palm on the steering wheel for emphasis. But you seem bound and determined not to…heh….not to make that happen. He pauses. I just want US, Corey. Without the danger. Without the commune. And yes, I know the commune saved me, but as selfish as it is I don’t want that for us. I want you and I holding each other’s wrinkled hands and thinking how good that love feels. How good that PEACE feels. Is that too much to ask? Is it?

Corey looked at Christian’s tear stained face. No, of course it’s not too much.

Then why can’t you stop? Stop everything. Stop letting the guilt press you ever forward into some false sainthood that is just going to get you murdered. And what’s more, what’s more! You are set for life, Corey! All that money, all those resources. So what the hell are you still doing in the XWF? Is it the same thing? Some kind of penance thing? Like you deserve to suffer?

I don’t know. I don’t know. The admission cut hard.

Christian pauses again before continuing. You told Lycana you’d quit if you lost.

Yeah?

Then lose.

A grim silence hung between them. Corey’s face pinched in annoyance. You want me to throw the match?

Yes. I want you to throw the match. Or forfeit. Or...or....whatever!

Do you realize what you’re asking?

Yes, I do. I’m asking you to put your pride aside and choose me. Choose the people who care about you. That’s what I’m asking.

Corey felt lost in an oasis of choices. Grinding his teeth in consternation, he opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again. He knew how precarious this was. But he also knew what was right. I’m not losing to Lycana. Not after everything she’s done.

Christian threw his hands in the air in annoyance.

But wait! Christian…I…I promise you that as soon as I lose the Supercontinental Championship…I’ll…leave. I’ll leave it all behind.

So will that be before or after the next psycho you get in the ring with breaks your neck? Will that be before or after Madison or one of her goons tracks you down and makes you swallow your own blood? Why not just stop now?!

You don’t understand it.

No, I guess I fucking don’t. Then, with bitterness creeping into his voice. Let’s just go home.

Actually, can I stop at the hospital? I want to talk to Pan. Get some closure on this.

Christian looked at Corey incredulously, as though the words just spoken were utterly beyond his ken. Finally, he spat, Get out.

…what?

You want to fall further in with that freakshow, I won’t be a party to it. So get out.

Are you fucking serious right now?

YES! There was fire there. Nothing but fire and accusation.

This is my car!

I don’t care. Get out. You can afford a fucking Uber.

Corey sputtered in disbelief, but ultimately there were no words. His eyes clouded with tears as he placed his hand on the door handle. Then, tossing the door open, he got out of the car and slammed the door shut. Christian peeled out and away from the lot and Corey achingly watched him go.

A Little Later…


Corey stepped into the hospital room, with it’s ever present aura of the antiseptic. The silence was drummed out by the beeping of machinery about Pan’s bed. At first, Corey thought he was sleeping, but then, with half lidded eyes, he called out to him. Corey?

Yeah, I’m here. Corey pulled up a seat next to Pan’s bed, looking him over. How are you feeling?

Dreamy. He smiled, no doubt full of chemical concoction. I don’t feel much pain right now, but my head is fuzzy. It struck Corey what a childlike description that was. Fuzzy.

Yeah, that’ll do it to you. Seeing him in this state, Corey almost felt bad about where he intended to take this. Almost. Is this a good time to talk?

Mmm hmmm. Actually, I needed to see you. You’ve gotta help me get back to Neverland. I’ll heal quicker there.

Corey had to squelch a rising tide of anger. Is he seriously still sticking to this? He had to admit, it made things easier on his conscience.

Come on man, really?

Pan managed to look mystified, even in his doped up state. What…?

The Neverland stuff? Peter Pan? Look man, you just got gut shot, do you think we can keep it real?

Now looking more confused than ever, Pan frowned. But I am. I’m telling the…

There are still more missing kids. Corey spoke authoritatively. Now, I want you to listen and listen very closely. My boyfriend is mad as hell about all this. I almost died because of this. So you need to shoot straight with me. Where are the rest of the kids?

Neverland. He said it like it was abundantly clear.

Corey narrowed his eyes. Neverland? Like how you tried to take me to Neverland in that tub? Like how you tried to drown me?

Corey, what are you saying?

He leaned in. Did you drown those kids?

What…?! I..no,no,no…. Pan tried to sit up, but proved unable. He hissed in pain, and slumped back down in the bed. I would never! Corey….!

When you said you were going to take me to Neverland we didn’t go anywhere Pan. We were never going to go anywhere.

Corey, I was shot before I could complete the conduction! Pan looked severe now, both wounded and astounded at the accusations being lobbed in his direction. You’re telling me you didn’t feel that? The pull? The lights? We were almost there.

I… Corey swatted the thought away. I don’t know what I felt.

Then help me go there now, and I’ll prove it.

Um, in case you’ve forgotten, you’re recovering from a gunshot wound.

NOW

In which Lycana’s burial concludes


We open on Corey walking in and amongst some elaborate wax sculptures. Eerily elaborate even. Our view allows us to make out who exactly is depicted, and very soon a pattern is readily obvious. Pol Pot. Jack the Ripper. Ted Bundy. Yikes.

Welcome to Madame Bellasco’s! It’s like Madame Taussand’s but half the admission price. And, unlike her more famous forbear, this particular slice of tourist trap has a rather unusual focus. In case you haven’t guessed what it is, it’s a museum dedicated to the world’s most terrible people. Monsters, tyrants, and madmen. Oh my.

Corey continues to walk amongst them slowly. But of course there’s one particular monster I’m here to talk about.

So, ‘Ly, were you aware that Hitler loved dogs and the BTK Killer didn’t have sex with his victims because he wanted to be loyal to his wife? I learned both those facts here, in fact. And it got me thinking about the last shoot you did in which you scrabbled to defend yourself against the accusations I made while managing to launch virtually no counterattack of your own.

Corey mouths “I own you.”

But yeah, I guess what those factoids mean is that you can find a redemptive quality in even the blackest of souls. After all, all these terrible people likely had at least one person they cared about. Someone they’d do anything for. A friend. A lover. A child. Being a monster and having a redemptive quality or two aren’t mutually exclusive.

Now you might think I’m feeding in to Lycana’s defense of herself. But I’m not.

She’s still a monster.

I mean, fuck me for thinking that the person who said this just a few weeks ago…


Quote:Sure, shears, knives, and blowtorches are a ton of fun, but I don’t need them to make you bleed, to split your skin then dig my fingertips in, prying it back further and further, splitting you open like a ripened peach. I don’t require anything other than my thumbs to gouge your eyes out. Nothing more than my boot to crush your larynx, watch your tongue loll out and turn purple, see the capillaries around and in your eyes burst as you struggle for air.

…is probably still not a great person.

Folks, do ya still feel like canonizing Lycana?

I mean, this bitch went full bore “all the horrible shit I did is square now because I went to an Autism Fundraiser.”

A fucking fundraiser.


Corey stops in front of Saddam Hussein with a look of utter shock and disdain on his face. Finally, he throws his hands forward and smirks.

Okay, okay, that’s not the only thing she did, I admit. She also saved her friend’s lives and did a solid for Alias before fighting him for his Universal Championship, I guess.

But, surprise, surprise, I’m still not sold.

For one thing, you spent way more time defending yourself than you did expressing genuine remorse for all the fucked up shit you did. Your emotional response to your crimes had all the vapidity of the reaction somebody has when they accidentally swallow some chewing gum. It was clearly more important to you that you try to prove me wrong than give any kind of credence to the guilt or sorrow you feel about your actions. And why? Because you don’t feel much of any guilt or sorrow. Oh sure, you paid some lip service to acknowledging what you did, but the genuine remorse simply wasn’t there.

When I recovered from being The Engineer, the guilt over the crimes he committed literally drove me insane. And I technically didn’t even do them. But to me, that didn’t matter. A selfish act on my part gave rise to the Engineer and I have never, ever forgotten that. To this very day I strive to right those wrongs. And you know what? It will never be enough.
Corey speaks the words with conviction. It’ll never be enough! There is NO POINT at which my slate gets wiped clean and I have achieved maximum salvation. But Lycana? She doesn’t really seem to care about any of that at all. Nahhh. She would rather we just pave over all her sins and erect a Hot Topic that sells empty gestures of decency. Forget about all that shit. “Hey, I’m all good now. “

You make me want to puke.

Saying that you’re “APPARENTLY obsessed with blood and violence”. Except for all those promos you cut back then when you were DEFINITIVELY obsessed with blood and violence. Like that kind of bloodlust just “goes away.” Like someone can simply deign not to be a complete monster.

Bitch, I WEPT FOR THE PEOPLE I HURT! And you treat this like it's some kind of game!

Corey stops and stabs his finger at the camera furiously.

I WEPT for them! Have you done the same? Or have you just been content to blithely and haphazardly do a good deed here and there like anything short of committing your life to goodness and decency is sufficient. No, Lycana, NO! People like us don’t get to do it half assed!

And yeah, I just said “people like us.” People who have performed the abhorrent and obscene. Crimes against humanity. That level of shit, Lycana. Because THAT’S WHAT WE DID!

You want the full truth? Fine. I hate you because I was once forced to BE YOU. Because at one point we were cut from that same foul cloth. But our reactions, our paths to redemption for what we did; oh ho ho, they have most certainly NOT been the same.

Corey continues walking, passing the Marquis de Sade.

Your superficial understanding and completely inadequate response to the sins you committed tell me everything I need to know about just how correct my initial assessment was. And I think, in a subtle way, you gave up the ghost in your last promo too. What was the turn of phrase you used? Ah, you “match energies”. Now, I get it. You were referring to your ability to adapt to focus on people’s weaknesses. To exploit who they are. The key word there being “exploit”. Because I think what you do runs deeper than that. Lycana can read the room, she’s smart enough to do that. And ultimately, I think that’s what caused her to hide her true nature. After all, it wasn’t some benevolence that she killed off the Baphomet’s social club. It’s because it was ALREADY a joke, and she didn’t want to be tied to the punchline.

I think that what happened here was that Lycana made a very deliberate and cunning decision. She stifled her true nature because she knew people wouldn’t put up with it. They lampooned her hackneyed blood lust at every turn. They called her out for her many crimes and cold indifference to human suffering. So, she started doing what any good PR flack would do. She started changing her image. She started to craft this “new Lycana”. A kinder gentler Lycana.

But I tell you, if this turd was written for a television show, I’d fire each and every member of the creative team. Because somehow, we’re expected to believe she has gone from being a bloodthirsty monster to the (magical) girl next door in the span of a year?!!

Real people don’t swing 180 like that, hunty! And don’t even try to play like I myself am an example, I had a rogue element that lived in me like a parasite get killed off. You’re all YOU, baby.

So, we’re left with only two options. Either Lycana was fake back then, or she’s fake now. Either all the criticisms of Lycana’s vapid mall goth status were on the money, or she’s lying about trying to be a good person now. Personally, I think it’s the second one. When someone tells you who they are, BELIEVE them. And Lycana, you already told us everything we need to know.

Corey claps his hands together right in front of the effigy of the Zodiac Killer.

Now let’s switch gears here a bit and talk about what went UNSAID in Lycana’s last promo. Because there was a lot left on the cutting room floor and I think it’s very telling. ‘Ly, you remember at the start of this little te-ta-te when I challenged you to say something that would definitively show that you could beat me? And then, you proceeded to beta wolf it up by spending a half hour feebly swatting at my accusations while mustering no challenge of your own.

Yeeaaahhhhhhh.

Confession time. Lycana couldn’t meet my challenge because it was impossible. Ain’t I a stinker!

There was no way Lycana could say anything that would show she’s capable of beating me because the facts of the matter are so bare. She’s lost to a laundry list of people since she first set foot in here. I have not. Simple as that.

Now, I will grant her that many of the people on her laundry list are top name stars. But that doesn’t help her cause either. I can say without ego that I am considered by many to be a top star here. No megalomania. Just fact. So if Lycana couldn’t get past those guys, there is ZERO chance she’s getting past me.

Do you realize that, at present, I am the longest reigning champion in the XWF? Put your phone away Wednesday Adams, it’s true. And I plan to do with the Supercontinental title what Lux did with the TV title: make it the real star of the show. To steal the spotlight away from blustery assholes like Jim Caedus and sentient piles of soiled diapers like Charlie Nickles. Why? Because the XWF can be better than that. It can be better than all that dementia and venom. It can be better than the friend who betrayed me.
He speaks this line pointedly.

It can just be better.

The XWF doesn’t get better with people like Lycana. People who can ruin lives and spread chaos and whoopsie her way into face turn like nothing really happened. So I’m keeping this championship safe with me. Safe where it belongs.


Corey walks over to a wax sculpture of Kim Jong Un, where his Supercontinental Championship is draped over the effigy’s shoulder. Thanks for holding onto that for me NK. He snags it off the sculpture and keeps walking. I’m sure you see where this is going.

Next, Corey saunters up to another wax sculpture. It is, of course, a sculpture of Lycana. She’s splattered with blood and looks to be in a state of ecstacy. Corey winces at the sight.

Yucko. Anyhoo folks, the next time Lycana tries to convince you she’s a decent person, remember that not even a year ago, THIS was HER. A blood craving, sadistic, cultist maniac. And no amount of rewrites or sweeping under the rug abolishes that fact.

This….


The shot closes in on the Lycana sculpture.

….is……

Closer now.

….you.

The shot cuts on a closeup of Lycana’s near demonic expression before fading out.

THEN


Corey considered Pan skeptically.

Corey, I swear I can prove it to you. I can show you where all those kids are. Pan finished, but gave a slight grimace as he did so.

It’s crazy….

There’s a shower in the bathroom we can use.

No…NO. Corey cut through the air with the edge of his hand, like he was decapitating the thought at the nape. Enough! You need to tell the police where those kids are!

Pan stopped for a moment, hand on his abdomen, before plunging ahead. You’ve seen so much, Corey. Angels and demons. Past, present and future. A man born again out of flames. Why is this so hard for you to accept?

Now, it was Corey’s turn to be at a loss. He admitted, he didn’t have a satisfactory answer. Pan was right. God dammit he was right. But there was something more there too. Wasn’t there? He sighed and shut his eyes. Fine. Maybe he just needed to play this game for now. Maybe that's how he'd get at the answers he sought.

You’ll help me?

Yes. But I still say this is insane. At the very least you should not be out of bed.

There’s a wheelchair in the corner.

Corey spotted it and rolled it over to Pan’s bedside. Then, Corey hooked his arms underneath Pan’s underarms, hefting him up. Pan tried to support himself, but gave a slight pained cry that forced Corey to put him down.

No, again. We have to.

Reluctantly, Corey lifted Pan once more, and though Pan was clearly in some pain, they finally managed to get him into the wheelchair. Corey then rolled Pan into the bathroom, when a knock sounded at the door.

It’s Lynne, just doing my rounds. Can I come in? The nurse’s voice called out from the doorway.

We need to hurry!

Corey shut the bathroom door and turned to Pan for instruction.

Turn the water on, then help me into it.

Hello…? Are you okay? The voice was on the other side of the bathroom door now.

Corey grunted in exertion as he helped Pan to his feet and into the shower. Pan again clutched his abdomen and made a pained hissing sound, throwing one hand against the wall to steady himself. Corey turned on the water, ensuring it was temperate.

Come in with me. I want you to see.

Corey considered the request, watching the falling water dance off the overhead light. Pan’s gown was quickly soaked through, outlining his lithe but powerful frame. Pan extended his free hand to Corey. Please?

Swallowing deep, Corey took hold of Pan’s offering and went under the water with him. Their bodies met and Corey blushed. Tight squeeze….

Just hold on to me. And don’t look down. Pan shut his eyes and at first nothing happened. But then, that familiar ethereal light began to appear again, starting at their feet and then drifting up their bodies. Corey gave a little gasp of surprise as the shower floor seemed to fall out from beneath them, but they did not plummet. Instead, he could see through it to a lush, serene landscape.

I’m coming in to do a welfare check!

And just like that, he was drunk on it. Drunk on this moment. Drunk on the magic, the surreality of it all. Corey wrapped his arms about Pan’s shoulders, and their eyes truly met for the first time. Riding on instinct, Corey suddenly found his lips grazing against Pan’s and then….

…they were gone.

Nurse Lynne opened the door to see the shower running with a wheelchair adjacent to it. And no patient to be found. With a confused scowl, she searched the bathroom, and then moved out to the rest of the room before rushing out to summon the doctor.

Now-at the Commune


We see Christian in the room he and Corey have shared for some months now. His eyes are laden with tears. He appears to be surveying the room, drinking in its detail and the moments written into these walls…this bed. He stands silently for some time, soaking in the environment. Then, you notice he’s holding a folded up piece of paper in his hand. Leaning over the bed, he places it on Corey’s pillow before reaching down and pulling the strap of a backpack over his shoulder.

With a burdened sigh, he wipes some tears off his cheek with the meat of his palm before turning to leave.

The shot closes in on the paper laying on Corey’s pillow. A gentle breeze from the open window is just enough to tip it on its side and cause it to flutter open. The message is simple. And devastating.

I’m sorry.

[Image: CoreySig6A.png?width=270&height=406]
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[-] The following 5 users Like Corey Smith's post:
"Loverboy" Vinnie Lane (01-11-2022), JimCaedus (01-11-2022), Lycana (01-11-2022), Marf (01-11-2022), Theo Pryce (01-12-2022)




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