06-06-2014, 11:41 AM
Blackness.
A light then flickers in the eerie room. I open my eyes to the face of Johnny right in front of me. He merely smiles and slaps me across the face.
Meanwhile...
“Right, so do you understand the plan?”
Paul Heyman looks left to right at Tommy Gunn and Velore Brommer, a sadistic smile on his face.
“Yes, Paul... I think we're smart enough to be able to simply break in and rescue Steve Davids in a tall building with about 20 men guarding one man... Piece of cake.”
Tommy Gunn always came across as slightly sarcastic but also witty. He turns and looks at Velore Brommer and a Portuguese man, presumably a translator.
“You better not fuck this up Brommer.”
After hearing the translation, Brommer just frowns.
“Não se preocupe comigo, se preocupar com si mesmo.”
Gunn and Paul look each other, a bit lost...
“He says... Don't worry about me, worry about yourself.”
“Why would we worry about you, we've never met you before.”
“No, not me, him.”
“What?”
“Oh forget it, just worry about yourself okay.”
| Back Inside. |
“So Johnny, is today the day?”
“It seems that today IS the day...”
“Oh how I've been waiting desperately for the day that I die. I was just waiting and waiting for 'the order', I thought I might be waiting here forever.”
“Wait? Did you think today was the day that YOU die? How wrong you are once again little man.”
“What do you mean?!”
Johnny takes a step back from me. He has a sickening grin on his face, and he turns and looks at Stewart who is still lying down, struggling for air. I shake my head in disbelief.
Not him. Not him. Not him. First my Mother. Then Blaine. Then my Father. Now my only friend left on this Earth!?
“Oh please don't. Please.”
“Oh please, do.”
Stewart spoke with the last remaining strength that he had. The fierce old stallion was now a weak, fragile man... Johnny pulled out a knife and grabbed Stewart by the throat and pinned him up against the wall.
The old man responded by spitting in his face.
Johnny then drew the knife closer to Stewart's throat...
CRASH!!
“What was that!?”
Johnny looked at me as if I some how, magically, shat the answer out of my bowels. He slung Stewart to the floor.
“And how the fuck am I meant to know? In case you didn't realize, I've been stuck in here sitting in my own piss and shit for days. You really are the muscle not the brain, you stupid fuck.”
“You'll pay for that later.”
“No one's paying for anything. Except the tax payers...”
It was Gunn. He walked in and planted Johnny with an uppercut sending him flying.
“But. But... Who sent you?!”
“It doesn't matter who, now let's get out of here. Vellore can't take them all down.”
“Who?”
“That doesn't matter.”
Gunn released me and we looked out of the door. There was only five or six left, but just as I turned to release Stewart....
BANG!
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
I fell to my knees as I watched the bullet sink into Stewart's head.
I grabbed the gun of Johnny who struggled to put up a fight after that uppercutt from Tommy and stared down at him.
“P...Pl.... Please...”
At least I got to see the fucking coward whimpering and begging. That's the only tiny silver lining from this.
“This isn't retribution enough.”
BANG.
The man who had tormented me was now dead. But it certainly wasn't justice.
I fell to my knees next to Stewart's cold body. Tears began to flood out of my eyes, as Tommy and Vellore took down the remaining two guards with super kicks.
“Come on Steve, we have to go. The police are on their way. I'm sorry.”
I refused to let go and Tommy and Vellore were forced to drag me, kicking and screaming like a school boy having a tantrum. I knew that I could not take another loss like this. The man who sacrificed everything merely to help my career was now dead. The world was always full of injustice, but not like this.
Turns out we were 7 levels high, and by the window was a helicopter, all I could see was Paul Heyman waving his arms and mouthing the word “Jump.”
The helicopter side door opened and Gunn through a computer through the window in order for us to make the jump.
Vellore and Tommy made it. I reluctantly looked over at Stewart once more, but at that moment sirens could be heard on the ground floor.
“Goodbye... My old friend.”
I leaped from the building and landed in the helicopter thanks to Vellore who cracked a weak smile as he caught me.
“Paul? I don't understand.”
“It's not complicated, Steve. You work for me now, is that understood?”
“Anything. I owe you my life.”
“I may not have been able to save your friend but I did manage to save you. For your loss, I am sorry. But we must almost get immediately straight back into business. Next Monday, you shall return on Madness to help another member of the Heyman Alliance, Kendall Sawyer, is that understood?”
“Sure thing... boss.”
I offered Paul a hand which he accepted.
To say that I was confused would be an understatement, but I was also eternally grateful. My luck hasn't run out just yet.
“Oh and I expect to see you winning your matches when you return. I hope I haven't made a mistake in selecting and saving you to help continue the development of the Heyman Alliance.”
The loss of Stewart still hadn't sunk in. The moment that gun shot was fired, I was numb.
“You will not regret saving me. However, I fear I may still be in danger. That man's boss is still alive.”
“Oh, I know that. When the time comes though, I guess we'll just have to save you again won't we.”
“Thank you. And thank you two as well, I'm not quite sure how you managed to take out quite so many men as fast as you did. Impressive, to say the least. By the way Tommy if we're ever in a match you have to promise to keep that uppercut away from me.”
“No promises.”
The helicopter flew into the distance, I couldn't help but look back and think of Stewart as the police stormed the room. What would happen to his body?
I really do not want to attend another funeral, but it seems another one is merely around the corner. How unsurprising is that?
I think death seems to be following me, around every corner....
| Three Hours Later |
I am home. Well... a new home anyway. I sit in an apartment left alone with my new surroundings and my thoughts nd I couldn't help but think once more...
Death seems to be following me.
As my eye lids close, a white man fully dressed in red appears in my dreams or my nightmares.
“No Steve. It is you who IS death.”
What?