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Stevie Tyler · (07-31-2013)

JOURNAL TIME

Journal Entry #1: So, today one of Eli's girls woke me up at 5:00am which is ridiculous. The sun wasn't even out yet, but nobody seemed to care. Everyone else was out plowing the fields and looked happy to do it. 'Happy' is an odd word to use here. It wasn't exactly 'happy'. They all looked like they were in a trance. I'm sure if I had a pair of those glasses Roddy Piper wore in They Live I could've spotted what was causing it.

I stepped onto the front porch of the cabin I'm staying in, and a guy shorter than me and really skinny, handed me a rake. He told me to go get the leaves. It's not even fall. Why are there leaves even on the ground? All over the place. The sun was blazing by noon, so I knew that I hadn't slept through an entire season. Still, though...Raking leaves. All day.

A girl that was pulling up carrots nearby kept taking quick peaks at me, which I'm not used to and it made me very uncomfortable. Not as uncomfortable as Eli climbing out of the portrait on the wall in the bedroom I'm using. That was weird. Not the weirdest thing I've seen over the past year, though, so I'm not freaking out just yet.

I know this is some test. This has to be.

The girl finally came up and started to talk to me. She was very pretty. Short, bobbed, brunette hair. A few freckles dotting her cheeks. Bright blue eyes that she fluttered at me. She was doing that thing girls do to try to be cute where one knee goes toward the other, they clasp heir hands straight down, and sway back and forth. Usually, the first word here is, "Soooooo..."

The girl doesn't say a word, though. She just looks at me and smiles. It was nice, but I felt guilty for feeling nice about it. Julie and I are starting to feel like a real thing. I should've just walked away. She touched my arm, and slid her hand down to my hand. Then she motioned over her shoulder toward an old barn. She started to pull me away, when I was hit in the back of the head with something. No idea what it was, but it knocked me out.

When I woke up, I was in an old, country-styled house. Old photos on the walls, rusty tools, a deer head. Honestly, it looked like the inside of a Cracker Barrel. I was lying on a couch and a large, fat man sat in a chair, waiting for me to wake up.

"Eli wants to talk to you," he said. He escorted me down a hallway to a white, peeling door. I was shaking. The fat man knocked.

"Not right now!" is what Eli shouted. So I was taken back to my cabin. The guy told me not to come back out until I was sent for. I'm guessing they think I was trying something with the girl.

Whatever.

Journal Entry #2: Ok, so nobody has come for me at all today. That's fine. I don't feel like getting cracked in the head again today, plus I'm already tired of looking at stringy-haired hillpeople. My guess is that this whole thing is just supposed to be some exercise so I can 'know myself better' or something. More likely, so Eli or whatever this whole thing is can know me better. I guess I'll skip writing about the day in this entry, and just do that sort of thing.

The first thing that comes to my mind is my parents. They weren't the worst in the world, and they certainly weren't the best. My dad would hit me, but not all the time, and only once or twice did I go to school with a black eye. The psychological shit he put me through was the toughest.

We'd watch wrestling and start to horseplay. Eventually, little 9 year old Stevie would punch him in the arm just enough to sting the big, tough preacher/cop. He'd hit me harder. I'd cry. "However hard you hit me, I'll hit you 10 times harder," he'd say. It was shit like that. I'd ask for a toy, he'd snatch me up and whisper in my ear. Always some threat about when we got home, but the heat and moisture from his mouth is what I remember the most.

My mom just went along with everything. She's never been one to stir the pot. Once, when I was 14, dad had me in some armlock he'd learned as a cop, telling me to say 'uncle'. By this time, I was sick of it. I had a bit of pride, even as cowardly as I've always been. I refused. Instead, I called mom, crying and screaming. "Please, tell dad to let me go!" "Say 'uncle' and I'll let you go. Don't make me break it."

Mom laughed. I still have problems out of that arm to this day. Go ahead and exploit that, Eli.

That same year, I'd started going to the skating rink in town a lot. Started hanging out with 'the wrong crowd', but I knew, and so did they, that I didn't belong. I was sitting with them outside of a convenience store one day while they were smoking what I think was weed. They offered me some, but I was already nervous enough with them doing it, that I declined. Dad was a cop. He'd find out, and he'd beat me to death.

I had ridden my bike over there that day. I told them I needed to go home. They demanded my bike. I refused. One of them spat in my face. It was the first time I'd ever felt that type of anger. I didn't even wipe it off. I stared at my feet. "What are you gonna' do about it, Stevie?" they all asked me. Fuck all, is what.

I grabbed my bike and started to walk through them. The guy that spat on me and the loudest mouth followed. They kept telling me to give them the bike. I kept my head down and walked forward, clinching the handlebars. They started to try to pull it away, but I didn't loosen my grip. Then, they started kicking the spokes, the wheels...Everything. Broke my bike to pieces.

But I got it home.

When I got there, you know what I found? Nobody. Same as always. I was always alone. No brothers or sisters. And my parents worked late hours starting when I was 7. The first real girlfriend I had at 15 introduced me to her parents. "This is Scott, this is Martha." I smiled. "This is Sony. This is Panasonic."

That's how it was. Little Stevie would get the piss beaten out of him, he'd be mocked, and ridiculed, then he'd come home to deal with it the only way he could.

Mortal Kombat 2. Stevie was Sub-Zero and the guy that spat on me was Shang-Tsung. Dad was Scorpion. The loud mouth was Kung Lao. Sub-Zero always won then.

Journal Entry #3 Eli, I'm going to kick your ass. Look, I'm pretty sure this whole thing is just some hallucination. I'm nearly 100% positive that this is some trick from some demon I haven't met yet, or maybe even Drotte. What I do know is that today, you crossed the line, pal.

Even if it wasn't really you, Eli, it sure as hell seems like something you would do.

They wake me up. "Eli's ready to see you now." They drag me up to that same dirty door, knock and you call us in. I walk in, the guy closes the door behind me, the fatass. Then I see you, Eli, shirtless, in a bed.

"How you doin', boy?" you said. I don't answer. I noticed there's a lump on each side of you. They both move, and mom and Julie's heads pop out on each side.

You bastard.

"Now, I just wanted to let you know, that you messin' with my women ain't gonna' be tolerated here. I'm here to help you, man. I can't have you goin' 'round messin' with my property. Y'understand?"

I jumped on you, as you probably recall. Mom and Julie clawed at my back. I hadn't seen mom naked since I was 17 and I caught them having sex. I really didn't want to see it again. I didn't fight them back, and you came at me. Tackling me through a wall. Then all of your hillbilly goons swarmed me.

Gary was no help. Which leads me to believe this is all something else. They held me down and made me watch you touch both of them. Then they bowed and started praying to you.

That's the last thing I remember.

Stevie finished writing the last journal entry and there was another knocking at the door. "What now?" Stevie asked, not really caring about the answer.

In walked Eli James IV. "Turn around and bend over, boy. Your punishment ain't over yet." Eli had a belt in his hand. Stevie got nervous, stood up, but did not turn around. He could feel his knees getting weak. He didn't want to fight anyone...Especially not Eli. The man is a giant.

Eli laughed and Stevie was shocked to see his skin peeling off. He grew even bigger in size, and eventually smashed through the ceiling. The walls crumbled around Stevie. He fell onto the bed, and watched in horror as the floor fell into nothingness. The bed was holding him over an absolute void.

The thing that was, to the eyes, Eli was now so large, that it's body stretched into the void. It's eyes were each the size of Stevie's whole body. It had purple skin and long, pointy teeth. It looked almost like a dragon. It opened it's mouth, and Stevie could smell rotted meat.

"YOU WILL BE DESTROYED! YOU WILL BE CONSUMED!" it said. The sound nearly shook Stevie off and into the pit. It attempted to bite, and Stevie moved out of the way just in time to see half the bed crushed in it's jaws.

Stevie, desperate to get away, called out to the only thing he thought might save him.

"GARY!" he said. Baal'Nezz Golgari instantly appeared from the abyss and smashed the dragon-thing with a double-axehandle. Over, and over, and over again. It retreated.

Stevie had pulled blankets up around him. His face was pale and he was shaking uncontrollably. Gary went to him, placed a hand over his eyes, whispered something...in Latin?...and when he pulled his hand away, Stevie was in his living room.

"Dude, are you ok?" asked his roommate, LJ. It was a fair question. LJ came home from work 2 nights ago to find Stevie passed out, covered in pink vomit, and surrounded by flies. It was obvious to him what was happening, which is why he didn't call an ambulance.

"I...I don't know anymore. Dude, my head hurts."

LJ handed him a Tylenol and Dr. Pepper. "Just so you know, I think that Eli dude is expecting you to bow to him and come live with him, or something."

"I bet he does," said Stevie before taking the Tylenol.

"I bet he does."

All of the flies suddenly disappear except for one. It flies next to Stevie's ear, and to no surprise of Stevie's, begins to talk to him.

"Hello, Steven."

"Drotte?"

"Indeed. I would like you to know that the events you experienced were solely Baal'Nezz's doing. I had no part in it whatsoever. I would never..."

"Are you lying?" asked Stevie, annoyed.

"It is what I do, is it not?" the Drottefly replied.

"Why? Why the hell would you do that?"

"You needed to see Eli for what he really was. He's a selfish, manipulative, dangerous, monster. What happens if Baal'Nezz allows himself to become distracted? Hmm? You need to find the willpower within yourself to overcome him on your own."

"But I don't even want to be in that ring..."

"It's not a matter of 'wants' anymore, Steven. You will be in the ring with him. You will be."

Drotte poofs into the ether yet again. "It's time to get you ready, bro," LJ said to him after that.

Stevie changed into a pair of sweatpants and an old Faded Glory t-shirt with a USA flag plastered on the front.

The two of them went to the nearest meat market/gym. LJ blasted some Europe.

It was montage time.

Stevie was put through the ringer. Punching meat, jumping rope, running up stairs, down stairs, leaping over bicycles, swimming laps, drinking raw eggs, throwing up raw eggs, turning down make-out sessions with Julie, turning down pizza, push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups, sneaking a slice of pizza, running down the road carrying a toddler on his back. LJ hung a picture of Eli on the wall.
[Image: HuskyHarris_display_image.jpg?1276710080]

[Image: HuskyHarris_display_image.jpg?1276710080]

Stevie stopped and stared at the picture. Trying to psyche himself up. LJ stood right in front of him.

"YOU GOT THIS, BRO! YOU GOT THIS!"

"YEAH!" Stevie yelled. "YEAH!"

LJ slapped him in the face, and immediately, Stevie clenched his cheek and fell to the ground.

"Dude! No. I'm done...God...Oww...Whhhhhyyyyyy?"

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