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LH Harrison · **02-06-2015, 07:06 PM**

Soon… it shall come to pass.

LH Harrison’s eyes shoot open as the booming voice from his dream. His breathing is unsteady as his knuckles are white from gripping the comforter so tightly. He releases his hold and brings them to his face.

Ohhh man.

Harrison rolls off the bed and looks at the clock which shows 8:05 AM. Harrison is still in the loft that he woke up in courtesy of the doctor.

Doctor Louis D’Ville.

He couldn’t get him out of his head. Not since he had rescued LH from the pits of hell. Everywhere he looked, and everything he heard… just reminded him of those cold eyes. Well, eye now. Despite all of that, the only other things in his head were that of his… failures.

His failure to his family. If he had been stronger, he could’ve sustained the blinding blow from Morbid Angel. If he’d been faster, he could’ve dodged that blow. If he’d been smarter, he would’ve never opened the door. Morbid Angel will pay for that. Oh will he pay.

The voices of his own failures bearing down on him as if he were wearing a backpack full of bricks. Not only that, but he’d failed his other family. His mother was dead…. Thanks to him. Frightened her into a heart attack. His father had vanished just at the drop of a hat due to his grief. His brother… well he moved off after joining up with the government. He also wasn’t answering his phone. However, LH wasn’t alone. LH walks into the other room and sees his rotund assistant laying on the couch snoring loudly. LH pops down in the armchair beside him and kicks his feet back. Something about the sound of his snoring soothed him. Filled the empty void of the estate with something besides LH’s thoughts.

As LH leans his head back to take another nap, he begins hearing the sound of vibrating from the other room. He looks towards where he was sleeping and begins walking back. As he enters the room, he spots the phone on the table beside his bed and picks it up. The number is unrecognizable. LH clicks the green button and pulls the phone up to his ear.

Hello?

Henry.

Franky?!

Yeah, listen here. I found Dad.

Oh my god, really? Wait, where are you?

It makes no difference. I’m calling you because you need to see Dad. You need to tell him that you’re alive. He moved up there because he was distraught at learning of your death. He blames himself. Also, how did you die and come back…? It’d be a neat thing for the CIA to learn.

Well, all it takes is knowing the right people I suppose.

Haha anyways, I must be going.

Wait, Franky!

Yes, brother?

Why are you avoiding me?

I’m not. It’s just safe considering who’s out there. Bye, brother.

Click. The emptiness that ensues after the conclusion of a phone call. The longing to hear that voice for longer.

LH checks his phone to see a new text with coordinates. Luckily for him, he knew how to find anywhere with them. LH walks into the other room and boots up the laptop. As it pulls up, he Googles the coordinates the finds the precise location.

Mount Magazine. The largest mountain in Arkansas. LH’s father was camping out there so it seems.

LH goes into the other room and kicks Viktor Crumswell. Vik’s snoring halts with a loud ‘hhrtt.’ He rolls over on his ginormous stomach and looks at LH through red-eyes.

What is it boss?

Get up. We’ve got to go to Mount Magazine.

A mountain of magazines? Is that a store or something? Because I’m sure they will be open later.

He yawns and lays back down as snores begin coming again. LH rolls his eyes and goes to get dressed.

Hours later.
Mount Magazine.

LH Harrison begins climbing up the side of the mountain following the trail which is leading him directly towards the coordinates given to him by his brother. The cold wind brushes against LH’s face as the air begins to thin as he heads up the mountain. LH coughs as he tries to adjust to the temperature and difference in air.

As he comes over the next hill, he spots smoke about a half-mile along the path he’s walking. He begins picking up his pace as he gets down to the bottom of the next hill. As he gets close to the house, he spots his father on the front porch sitting back in a chair smoking a pipe. As Harrison approaches, he can’t help but smile when he sees his father.

Hey Dad!

As he says this, his father leaps to his feet and levels a shotgun leveled right at his face. LH’s face is aghast. He can’t believe his father has a gun pointed at him.

Don’t come near me apparition. I know you aren’t what you claim to be. You aren’t my son!

Bu-

NO! You shut your mouth using my boy’s voice and face. He’s gone. That damn company took him from me. I told him to leave. I told him he needed to be with his family. Then that place took his wife…. His kids… and that kid went back. He went back because he loved that company. He loved what he did and then… that company took his soul for it.

But Dad. I’m right here.

Get back spirit! You’re just another demon come to torment me. You’re not the first and you won’t be the last. Now get back before I shoot you.

Dad, would a shotgun blast really effect a ghost?

It would if it had salt in it.

They stare off for a few seconds before LH clenches his fists and begins walking towards him.

I’m warning you!

You mean you didn’t salt your house Mr. Ghost Hunter?

Yeah, I did.

Then why not let me enter the house? If I can’t then you know I’m a ghost, if not, then shoot me.

His father seems to contemplate this for a moment before allowing him to pass.

LH walks up the steps and walks across the threshold being sure to touch some of the salt. He even picks some up and moves it between his fingers.

His dad rushes over and hugs his neck.

I can’t believe it’s really you… you were dead son.

Yeah Dad, I remember.

They take a seat in the chairs opposite of each other and his dad’s eyes begin welling up with tears.

Son… it’s so good to see you. You have no idea how lost I felt. Your family gone, your mother gone, and then you gone? I see your brother from time to time, but he’s far too busy for me. Did he tell you I was here?

Yes, but he didn’t warn me about the apparitions.

Well, I don’t generally tell people about that. I hate that you heard that. You probably think I’m a crazy old man now.

He stifles a small laughter, but it’s evident how he’s been affected by the encounters. LH reaches over and places a hand on his dad’s knee.

It’ll be fine, Dad. I don’t think you’re delusional, but I’m here now.

Well… would you like something to drink son? Maybe a beer?

Oh c’mon Dad. You know I don’t really drink that kind of stuff don’t you?

Yeah I know, I know. Just thought I’d offer. How about a Coke then?

Sounds good.

His dad walks into the cabin and comes back out with a glass Coke and a glass Bud Light bottle for himself. He pops both tops off and takes a seat.

Hey I’ll race you.

Where are we going?

Well nowhere, but I bet I can down this beer before you can down that Coke!

Umm… I’m not sure that’s a good idea, old man.

Old man? This ‘old man’ is going to down a beer faster than you can that drink. But if you’re chicken…

Oh no, let’s do this thing!

The two men begin drinking quickly. The look on LH’s face is agony as the bubbles begin moving back up his nose and he has to take a breath. Meanwhile his dad finishes off his beer and sets the bottle down, but his unsteadiness sends the bottle rolling forward on its side.

I told you I could do it! Haha!

I never doubted you for a second, father.

The two laugh as LH sips on his Coke. His dad up and slaps LH on the knee. His eyes sparkle with the slight bit of alcohol in his system.

If only your mother could be here right now…

He sighs and sits back. As he does so, he notices a rabbit jumping out onto the walkway. He taps LH on the leg and points the bunny. LH turns around and smiles. He used to always love watching his dad hunt as a kid. His dad slowly stands up and walks towards the stairs. As he approaches the stairs, he raises the shotgun. He looks down the barrel towards the rabbit. As he takes a step forward, LH notices his father begin to lose his balance! His father’s foot had stepped on the bottle he’s previously drank. LH reaches out to grab him, but his father is just out of his distance. LH’s dad stumbles forward and flops backwards down the stairs as he does! With shotgun in his hand, LH’s fath-

PSSSSSHT!

LH’s mouth falls agape as he stares in horror at his father’s lifeless body at the bottom of the stairs. Crimson red liquid begins to flow down the steps. LH can barely look at his father’s corpse lying on the bottom stair. His father’s face is nothing but a gory scene. The shotgun blast had hit him directly to the left-side of his mouth. His entire face is oozing the red liquid.

LH falls down on the step as he holds his hand over his mouth.

Another family member.

Another death.

Will they ever stop?

LH reaches down and holds his father’s hand in his as a tear begins to roll down his cheek. He bites his lip and looks around. He finds a shovel beside him leaning against the front porch. LH reaches down and holds his father’s hand to his shoulders begin to shake.

Hours later.

The sound of shifting dirt is heard as the camera comes up to show LH in a ditch up over his head. He sets the shovel on the loose dirt around the hole. He places his hands on the soil and pulls himself up. LH’s face is a mixture of tears and dirt smears. He walks over and lifts up a white sheet which contains his father’s body. He took it from the bed within the cabin.

LH walks over and lifts the bloody sheets over his head. He drops it slowly into the hole and sighs down at it.

The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. 1 Corinthians 15:56-57

LH picks up the shovel, sighs, and begins piling the dirt on top of it.

Another lost one. Another death. Another one I could’ve saved.

All of my work. Everything I’ve done and for what? What do I have to hold onto? Not a title. Not a chance for a title.

Nothing.

You know… I’m done. I’m exhausted. All this federation has given me is heartbreak, death, and tragedy.

This time… it’s different.

The Royal Rumble. My favorite PPV as a kid. My favorite match of the year every year. Now it’s being hosted by the XWF and by one of the most unreliable General Managers of all time! Mr. Archie Lawson.

Welcome back Archie. Have a good vacation after Madness made Warfare look like a the chump show it is?

Alas, let’s look at the competition. Well we have competitors like Woe. Yeah. That guy. Chair of Mastermind! A chair? Really? John Cena 2099! Still probably doing the Five Moves of Doom undoubtedly. And headlining the OTHER channel. Oh! Let’s not forget a midget calling himself Mini Morbid. Sounds like a good candidate to chunk over the top rope like a lawn dart.

Oh lest we forget the ever forgetful Cain! That’s right! The big, bad wolf! Blow any houses down, Cain? No? Ah that’s right. You’ve been pulling at the curtain ever since we stood toe to toe and I smashed you into the mat. Stand up straight at the Rumble. I honestly hope we meet again. It would satisfy me to no end to send your fanged butt over the top rope once more.

Maverick. Yawn.

Scully. Yawn x 100.

Oh then there’s Justin Sane. An opponent I don’t believe I’ve ever stood across the ring from. How interesting would it be to toss him over the top rope like a rag doll? I must say that Justin has had some fantastic accomplishments since coming to this federation. Like that Universal #1 Contendership match he won… oh wait… he didn’t. Like that briefcase he earned, but… wait… that was handed to him? Oh, oh! We can’t forget those tag team belts that he wo-… BOUGHT. Then he had that King of the Ring tournament he wo… nope lost that too. Good thing he won that Television Championship match he was in, right? Wrong once more. Seriously. Has this guy won anything worth winning? Sure he beat Austin Fernando, but Fernando can’t win more than two matches in a row. Remember that time Doc shocked him with his Taser?! Awesome stuff.

But hey, it’s okay Roxy. Maybe your Loverboy will come back alright. Maybe he won’t have issues in the bedroom when he sees Frodo or Pest or whoever else wants to tug on his pube hair when he gets ready to service you.

Now, speed round! Let’s do word association.

Austin Fernando! Choke.

Essence! Needs to pull herself together.

Caroline! Confused about Frodo.

Frodo Smackins! Over sexualized fool.

Mastermind! Prey.

Venomous! This guy? Again? War Games. I won’t forget.

Polvo Blanco! Who?

Scorpio! What a kidder.

Master Lito! Ahem… who?

Ruben Mitchell! Some delusional buff imbecile.

Lucius Fyre! We’re kidding, right?

Luca Arzegotti! Crack. I’m going to get you back for that.

Barney! Waste of space.

Razor Ramon! Hey-Yo.

Rapist Shane! Well…

Swift Ion! Can I please toss this loser out? Please?

See you punks soon. Get ready. Because at the Royal Rumble… I’m throwing you all over the top rope. All... in my father's honor. RIP Dad. May you forever find peace.

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