Origins (Part 2) - Printable Version
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Origins (Part 2) (/showthread.php?tid=18748)
Origins (Part 2) - Maverick - 03-04-2015
OOC: Continued from here!
"It's not over yet, you know."
That voice. That damned voice.
It was a voice I had been trying to block out for over a decade now.
I decide to drift back just one time, one time.
And he's here. Or, rather, I'm hearing him.
That voice forced me to stop dead in my tracks, forced me to search my surroundings. But I find nothing. The lavish mansion looks the same as always, forcing me to wonder to myself if I'm going crazy.
And all of a sudden, my world goes dark.
I woke up to sand clogging my throat.
I woke up, gasping and sputtering, wheezing for air, coughing out the sand.
I lied down, wherever I was, and forced myself to open my eyes, forcing myself to see the clear blue sky. I roll over onto my gut, to see that I'm in...
![[Image: gobi-desert-650.jpg]](http://flaglerlive.com/wp-content/uploads/gobi-desert-650.jpg)
The desert. I'm in the middle of the fucking desert.
I tried to make a general noise to express my disdain at my current situation, but my throat was parched beyond belief, more than likely due to the sand.
I kneeled to get up, my chest pain forcing me to sputter about before I could get to a standing position. I slowly limped forward, but after a few steps, a familiar memory just happened to breeze by.
![[Image: Tumbleweed.gif]](http://i201.photobucket.com/albums/aa18/Hypevosa/Tumbleweed.gif)
That.
Damned.
TUMBLEWEED!
I limped- chased after it and began kicking it and pummeling it into submission, hearing the satisfying crunch of the tumbleweed with every fist, and every kick.
I continued trudging on, trying to figure out where I could be. My throat was beginning to somewhat clear up now. I could make auditory sounds, such as a groan or a cheer, but no words yet. I was beginning to give up. Besides that tumbleweed, I haven't found anything. Until....
Quote:Loverboy: Who the hell do you think you are, huh Iceman? You think you’re anyone’s main event?
"Wuh?" I could feel my throat straining to make the sound as I saw Loverboy marching towards me, but that line... I could have sworn I heard that line line before.
But, as my cracked eyes squinted to see Loverboy more clearly, I could see that he brought company in the form of Gator and the Aerial Knight-- wait, WHAT?! Don't Gator and Knight hate each other? Why are they teaming up now?
I heard myself give another groan, my throat wishing it could make words, to question Gator and Knight's apparent partnership. I turned to limp away from them, only to hear--
Quote:Maverick. Dude. Listen to me.
No, I don't want to listen to you! I want to get the hell away from this place, and deal with you three later! I think to myself as I limp away faster now, but their three, unaffected bodies catch up to me quite quickly. I heard Vinnie's voice once more.
Quote:You and me, we aren’t friends. Not even close. I don’t respect you, your wrestling, your personality, your alleged masculinity… I don’t respect any of it.
Another line I've heard. Why is Vinnie giving me deja vu?
Before I could really pursue that line of thought, Knight's voice came chiming in.
Quote:"Now let's stop talking about douches for a minute and talk about his nickname "The Avatar of Perfection". You should already know that perfection means to achieve flawlessness, so I won't even bother telling you what you already know."
Y'know, I never thought of these three as the type to just be so lazy as to just recycle their used lines. Sure, I may not be their biggest fans, but for Gator at least, I could respect that he had creativity, that he could think outside the box.
Or, so I thought.
Oh, and speak of the demon, he's chiming in.
Quote:"But since we're going for this stupid shit, why the fuck have you modeled yourself after Randy Orton? Same haircut, same tattoos, same shit style in the ring, you cut promos as well too but that is way too much of an insult to Orton. You both whine and make excuses, you're both fucking liars. Next you're going to say you went AWOL too. Just get the whole of that cunt package in you. I may have a similar suit but I don't model myself after Deadpool. You? You're so desperately trying to be Randy Orton junior I can see you popping his dick out of your mouth before you start your promos."
For once, I tried to block out the music. I tried to think inside my head.
A place where past quotes happen to spring up. Actually, as a matter of fact, it might as well be past things in general, because of that tumbleweed. Wait a minute--
Think inside my head.
We're in my mind!
Y'know, I hadn't expected my mind to be so... empty.
But wait... if we're in my mind, then these guys are a figment of my imagination! I can cure my throat! Just concentrate... concentrate...
In a few moments, my throat felt like I just had a cold drink of water, and in front of my eyes, I could see the three men antagonizing me turning away into just a puff of wind.
Hey, at least I can use my vocal cords now. I'm about to trudge on, when that puff of wind went behind me, and materialized into... something. I'm about to dare to look back when I hear the thing say, "Hey, Josh."
It.
Was.
Him.
I turned around, and saw the image of my father. Besides his smokey appearance, his figure was exactly the way as it was when he died. Being a busy man, organizing my future while still having to pave way to economic stability, his face had the same wrinkles and worry lines.
"Dad..." I immediately brought my head to his shoulder, tears pouring down my face. He only pressed me in further, but hell if I cared. This was the first time I was seeing my father in a damned decade. I think I earned the right to shed a few tears at him.
"It's been too long, my son."
I had my head escape from his shoulder. Escaping from reminiscing mode, I immediately went to questioning mode. "Okay, how am I here? What's going on? Why is my mind so empty? Why--"
"I can assess your questions later, especially since I'm in your mind. However, your going to be leaving soon, due to the fact I can't keep your physical form trapped here for long."
"Wait, why do you even need my physical form here? Can't you just chime inside to let me know your there?"
"More than likely, you wouldn't have listened to me. Besides, I needed a face- to- face."
"Now then, listen here. For the part of the mind your in, we're in the part that doesn't want to work. I brought you here for a reason- to see some of the past wounds inflicting you. There was my accident, your match with the Kliq, that fatal- five- way where after you were on the receiving end of a shitdown by Gator AND Frodo--"
"Please, I don't need to be reminded of that shit."
"Oh, contrare! You do need to be reminded of this! You need to learn from your mistakes, and press on. I mean, what about your Round 1 opponents in this year's Lethal Lottery? Dylan George and Ricky Desmond? Haven't you lost to the latter?"
"Pfft, oh please, don't even get me started on them. Only reason I lost to Desmond was because of underestimation. I mean, how long has he been away from the ring? A year? Two? Being away for that long would let anyone get the wrong idea about them. I know now I can't underestimate him, and he's going to get his."
"Haha, and Dylan George? Jesus, I don't even know who to compare this guy to. I mean, this guy obviously thinks he's a monster, like how Cain used to think, but this guy is just such a fuck- wit. I mean, he goes to say what's driving my fear? Like, the fuck? He's so obviously spelling that he knows about your accident, even though I haven't told anyone about that! Sure, I might have reminisced about it a bit, but no words were said. And oh shit, he was in the indies? Pffffffft. He just strikes me as too much of a fuck- wit to even be considered for a heavyweight title shot in the indies. I bet he's just fabricating one huge lie, just to have something to say, something to get a leg up on me. Like, please. And these people thought they could be a challenge for me."
"Well, your showing confidence. That's good to see."
"How can I NOT show confidence? I mean, Desmond hardly even says a word about his match, and George is a goddamned fuck- wit!"
"Well, while I think that you being confident is all fine and dandy, it doesn't change the fact that we need to heal your past wounds. We need to go back to a specific memory here."
"And how are we supposed to do that? You just said yourself, this is the part of the mind that doesn't want to work!"
"Ah, but note you saw memories of Gator, the Aerial Knight, and Vinnie Lane. I think the memory we're searching for is somewhere over... hm, there." Dream- Dad pointed over towards the northwest, where a gruesome sight awaited me.
His casket.
To be continued...