Knock Knock Knock

The two children in the bunk beds awaken as they hear the knocking on the window. Tyler and Emily look to the closed blinds with equal parts shock and fear.

Knock Knock Knock

Tyler: Go see who it is!

Emily: I don’t want to!

Knock Knock Knock

The children hide under the blankets on their beds as the knocking on the window grows more aggressive.

KNOCK

KNOCK

KNOCK

Charlie: Let me in! It’s daddy!

Emily sinks deeper under the covers of the bottom bunk while Tyler flies out of his bed, climbing down the ladder and heading to the window. Tyler pulls the blinds open. He looks through the window at his father, who is standing on a ladder he has placed against the side of the house. Tyler unlocks the window, but struggles to lift it open.

Tyler: I can’t get it, daddy!

Charlie: Go get your big sister!

Tyler runs back towards the bed. He hops on the bottom bunk and taps his sister over the covers.

Tyler: We need to let dad in!

Emily: I don’t want to…

Tyler: But dad said so!

Charlie starts pounding on the window again. Each successive pound grows more forceful.

Knock Knock KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Emily reluctantly slinks out from under the covers and walks towards the window. Her downcast eyes never make contact with Charlie’s paternal gaze as she drags herself over to the window. She sighs before it, closing her eyes as her morose expression shifts into a look of neutrality. She pushes it up as her younger brother waits for their father with a smile on his face.

Charlie: About fucking time you let me in. Do you want to grow up to be like your mother? And never please a man?

Charlie climbs into the window, pushing Connie to the side as he approaches Tyler. He gets down on one knee and extends his arms out wide.

Charlie: Come give daddy a hug!

Tyler runs to his dad with glee, embracing him with a loving hug. Emily looks on from the side, a few tears falling off her face onto the carpet below. She puts her arms around herself.

Charlie: I came here to get you back. But we have to be quick. They're coming for us!

Charlie stands up and starts walking towards the window. He gets to the window before he looks back at his children, who have not moved. Anger flashes across Charlie’s face.

Charlie: What are you idiots doing?! We have to go before they get us!

The two children shift around nervously on their feet. Emily speaks up softly.

Emily: Mom said we have to stay here..we have school to go tomorrow...we have to go to bed.

Charlie: You don’t need school! I’ll teach you everything you need to know. Come on, let’s go!

Emily and Tyler stay still. A light appears underneath the bedroom door as the hall light switches on. Footsteps are heard coming up the stairs.

Charlie: We have to go! Now!

Emily and Tyler look at each other with worried expressions. Emily takes a few steps back until she is standing against the wall. Charlie looks at Tyler, then follows his gaze to Emily. Charlie takes a few steps towards Emily and reaches out to grab her.

Charlie: LET’S GO! NOW!

As Charlie lunges for Emily she jumps away, running further into the bedroom.

Emily: Ahhhh! Mom!

Charlie glares at Emily with a hateful look in his eyes.

Charlie: You are just like your whore mother. You are dead to me.

Charlie rushes towards Tyler. He grabs the small boy with both hands as the bedroom door swings open. Connie stands in front of the hallway light dressed in a white bathrobe with a silk red belt. She has a handgun in her grip and is aiming down the sights at Charlie. Charlie places the young boy between himself and Connie.

Charlie: If you shoot, bitch, you’re only hurting him!

Connie looks stoic in the face of Charlie’s home invasion. She sighs as she reluctantly brings her firearm down to her side. Emily is crying and screaming in the corner of the room. She hunches herself over into the fetal position, as the situation is quite plainly overwhelming. Tyler just looks shocked and confused.

Charlie: Let’s go, kid!

Charlie drags Tyler towards the window before looking back at Connie with a twisted smirk.

Charlie: You may have turned Emily against me, but you won’t get to Tyler!

Charlie literally throws Tyler out of the second floor window of the family home. The child screams in the air, but is suddenly silent as he lands on the concrete driveway below. A loud thump is heard as the small boy makes contact with the ground. Connie and Emily scream as Charlie chuckles. Charlie’s expression changes immediately as Connie brings her handgun up and bucks a few shots off at the child abuser!

Charlie climbs out of the window with unmatched speed, sliding down the ladder and booking it to Tyler’s grounded body. The small boy is whining in pain as tears stream down his eyes. He appears to have landed on his right arm, which is now bent at both the wrist and bicep. Charlie grabs the child by the waistband and drags him across the concrete driveway as he sprints towards his parked car. Charlie opens the backseat of the 92’ pontiac grand am and tosses Tyler inside. Tyler’s face is now fucked up and bloodied from being scratched against the concrete.

Tyler: Help! HELP!

Charlie: I’m working on it, kid!

Charlie slams the door shut and runs around to the driver’s side. Connie comes to the window, screaming out into the night as Charlie dives into the driver’s seat and speeds off into the horizon. Charlie’s car shoots out of the parking spot like a bullet. The audience point of view shifts now to the car camera set up on Charlie’s dash.

Charlie turns back to look at his injured son while going 70 miles per hour down this residential road. His son is screaming and squirming, clearly in pain: both physical and emotional. Charlie barks at the young boy to calm down.

Charlie: Shut the fuck up! You’re safe!

Charlie turns to face the road once more, just barely seeing the tree in front of him in time to swerve out of the way. Charlie whips the wheel around and in the matter of a few seconds is once again on the street proper. Sweat is dripping from his forehead. In the passenger seat you can see a pair of empty, but clearly used, heroin needles.

Tyler: Ahhhh! Agh! Help! Agghh!

Tyler continues to scream in pain as he clutches his broken arm. The bloody wounds on his face are gnarly. The child’s blood is dripping into the vehicle, staining both the carpets and the seats.

Tyler: I wanna go hoooomee!

Charlie: That’s we’re we are going, Tyler! Hang on!

Charlie continues to drive like a bat out of hell, going way too fast and taking turns way too quickly. His car slides around on the road, but he is generally able to maintain enough control to only hit the curb every dozen seconds or so.

Tyler: Why are you doing this, dad?!?

Charlie: They’re coming for us, Tyler! But I won’t let them get you! They won’t get a fast one over on me again!

Tyler continues to scream and squirm as Charlie approaches his destination. Charlie pulls into a mostly empty trailer park at top speed, tires kicking up the gravel and dust off of the old road. Charlie gradually slows down as he approaches the last trailer on the left. There is a black vehicle and a trailer hitch already parked in front of the rundown trailer as Charlie pulls up to it. He puts the car in park and turns back to face Tyler.

Charlie: Alright, get out. We’re here. They won’t find us here.

Tyler doesn’t respond. He is clutching his arm, gritting his teeth, and bleeding profusely from a multitude of cuts along his face. Charlie shakes his head from side to side in frustration. He opens the driver’s door and gets out of the vehicle. He turns around and opens the back door, grabbing Tyler by the neck of his shirt and pulling him out of the vehicle. He drags the kid to the front door of the trailer by this shirt.

Tyler: Dad! Dad! You’re hurting me!

Charlie pays the kid no mind as he pushes the unlocked door open and enters into the dark trailer home. He tosses Tyler onto the only piece of furniture in the trailer, an old couch missing it’s middle cushion. The rest of the trailer is more or less empty, save for the garbage scattered around the ground. Cigarette butts, diet coke cans, used needles and the like litter the floor.

Charlie: The lights don’t work, so don’t even bother trying.

Charlie walks over to a window sill and lights two candles with the box of matches sitting next to them. He turns back to face Tyler, who is moaning in pain as he sits awkwardly on the old sofa. Charlie approaches the child before kneeling in front of him. Charlie places his left hand on the child’s bloodied face.

Charlie: It’s ok, you’re safe now. They won’t get us here.

Tyler: Who?

Charlie: The bastards trying to keep us down. They’ll stop at nothing to harm us. But I won’t let them get you.

Tyler continues to grimace in pain as a look of confusion washes over his bloodied face.

Charlie: Let’s get you cleaned up. Stay here.

Charlie stands up and turns around, walking to the other side of the trailer. He opens a door and walks into a dark bathroom. He grabs the candle on the windowsill and lights it with the bic lighter sitting next to it on the windowsill. Charlie closes the door behind him as the candle ignites. He is drawn to his dimly lit reflection in the mirror above the sink. The camera zooms in on his face, offering the audience a clear and unobstructed view.

Charlie looks dirty and depressed. His beard is caked with blood and dirt, with some of the hair matting together. His head hair is unbrushed and oily. Pustules have begun to grow across Charlie’s face. The white bumps surrounded by reddened skin seem to agitate Charlie as he scratches at them. One of them bursts open as he presses against it too roughly. Yellow puss begins to drip down the addict’s face. A remorseful frown flashes across Charlie’s face, but only for a second.

He reaches into the sink and grabs a clear pipe with a circular bowl at the end. He reaches into a bag on top of the back of the toilet and grabs some bluish looking dust. He sprinkles the dust into the bowl.

Charlie: A nice little pick me up for daddy.

Charlie grabs the lighter off the windowsill and sparks it, igniting the dust inside the pipe. He inhales the smoke slowly until all the dust has been burned. He slowly exhales it, a satisfied smile spread across his lips.

Charlie: Ohhhh yeaaaah, baby.

Charlie closes his eyes for a few moments, letting the methamphetamine filter into his system. He opens his eyes as he feels a slight tugging against his shoulder. Charlie’s eyes go wide as he looks into the mirror and sees a masked man standing behind him with a knife! The man is considerably taller than Charlie, but a lot less thiccc. Charlie drops his meth pipe onto the ground, shattering it.



Charlie turns around and immediately lashes out with a jab followed by a straight hook!

BAM BAM

Charlie’s fists go right through the air before slamming through the drywall in the bathroom. Two fist sized holes appear on the wall as Charlie brings his hands down to his sides. His breathing is shallow and quick. He opens the bathroom door and walks back over to Tyler, who is crying on the sofa.

Charlie: They’re coming for us, Tyler. They want to end us. But I’ll protect you.

Tyler: I want to go home!

Charlie: Can’t go home...they’ll find us there.

Tyler: WHO?!

Tyler screams as the tears stream down his blood-stained face. He holds his twisted right arm against his chest. Charlie kneels down as he makes eye contact with his son.

Charlie: The Cataclysm is coming. But I will always protect you, Trenton.

Charlie hears the floorboards behind him creaking. He turns around, still on one knee, and sees Robert Main coming at him and his son with a steel chair! Charlie roughly grabs Tyler and throws him to “safety” across the room. Tyler screams as he is tossed across the room. The young boy lands on his already broken arm.

Tyler: Agghgghhhghghh!!!

Charlie grimaces, preparing himself for a chairshot that never comes. A few moments pass and Charlie looks around the room, seeing no one but Tyler. Charlie’s breathing is shallow and quick. Sweat and puss drip from his head to the floor below. Charlie stands tall as a look of confusion imprints itself into his expression. Tyler is screaming and sobbing on the floor. Charlie looks around the room once more.

Charlie: Come out! Fight me, you coward!

Tyler screams and crawls into the corner of the room, clearly fearing that Charlie is speaking to him.

Tyler: No! Please!

Charlie: Leave my son alone!

Charlie starts lashing out wildly across the room, swinging at nothing but air over and over and over.

Charlie: You can’t stand toe to toe with me! You coward! You hide in the shadows! You’re nothing but a cockroach! Now come out so I can stomp you! Where are you?!

Charlie starts punching holes into the walls as Tyler looks on in fear. Charlie is absolutely enraged, slamming his fists into the walls of the trailer home while kicking the trash all around.

Charlie: WHERE ARE YOU, MAIN?!

Charlie makes his way to the couch in a fit of rage. He lifts the old sofa up, throwing it across the room! The arm of the sofa passes against the windowsill, knocking the candles down to the ground! The lit wicks catch on the couch and the carpet below. The stains of alcohol on the carpet help the fire ignite with quick intensity. Within a few moments a large line of fire has ripped through part of the living room, encompassing the flipped over couch and the carpet near it. Tyler screams in fear as the fire rages. Charlie walks up to the fire, inspecting it, as if he sees something dancing before him in the flames.

Charlie: There you are, Main.

Charlie sees an infernal Robert Main standing tall within the fire, the X-treme championship belt around one shoulder and the tag team belt around the other. Main’s infernal body flickers and bends with the flames. Charlie’s gaze is fixated on the inferno before him. He seems to be deaf to Tyler’s terrified screams.

Charlie: You’re not so brave on your own, are you?

Charlie cocks his head to the side as he sizes up the infernal Main. He takes one step towards the flames.

Charlie: When Sarah is with you you’re strong, brave, bold. Ready to fight. But now? You just stand there, hiding behind the flames. You’re not brave, Main. When Chris is with you you’re creative, innovative, successful: but on your own? You’re nothing but a dirty roach, hiding in the shadows, sulking under the refrigerator, feeding off of the crumbs that Chris and Sarah toss to you whenever they’re feeling generous.

Charlie cocks his head to the other side as he takes another step towards the flames.

Charlie: But worse yet, you’re a pet. At least a wild roach is independent, rugged, willing to do whatever it takes to survive. But you? Tsk tsk tsk. You’re nothing more than a pet parasite. Someone’s little cockroach, that lives and breathes only to eat table scraps and take orders. Lacklan’s little lackey. Attacking a man while his back is turned. Nothing but cowardice. But what more can we expect from a slithering, sulking cockroach?

Charlie spits at the flames.

Charlie: You’re not fit to wear those belts, bitch. Over a month as the X-treme champion, and not a single defense? Pathetic. Just like a roach, you hide when the lights get bright. Just like a roach, you slither in the shadows, scared of the men in the kitchen. You can’t hide from me forever, Main. And when I get my hands on you….

Charlie grins as he leans in to the flames. The heat singes the bottom of his beard, but Charlie pays no mind.

Charlie: When I get my hands on you Chris Page isn’t going to be there to save you. Sarah won’t be there to tell you what to do. It will just be me. And you. And that’s a recipe for your disaster, baby!

The infernal image of Main dissipates, and all that’s left is the fire that is quickly tearing through the wooden structures of the house. Charlie turns around and grabs Tyler by his left shoulder. The child screams but Charlie pays no mind. He walks out of the front door of the trailer home, heading straight for his car. He opens his back seat and tosses his child in. He walks around to the driver’s side door and hops into the vehicle. He turns his keys in the ignition before looking back at Tyler, who is wincing in pain in the back seat.

Charlie: Don’t worry, Terry, I will protect you.

Charlie presses the pedal to the medal as the 1992 pontiac grand am races off into the dark horizon.