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JackCain · (06-12-2017)

**He sticks out like a sore thumb. He's dressed all in black on a hot summer's day in a park. He leans forward on the bench he sits on, hunched over while other people lean back and take in the sun. They wear pastel linen, bright t-shirts. He wears a black leather jacket and black T-shirt. They wear trainer, light shoes and sandals. He wears black military issue boots. They wear jeans and shorts. He wears black military combat trousers. He's not shaved for several days. The sun beats down on his close cropped hair, his face furrowed into a scowl of resentment, anger and rage, as sweat creeps between the canyons etched onto his visage.

Jack Cain watches people walk past him. Everyone is enjoying themselves. People are talking to friends, chatting on their cell phones, listening to music, sitting on the grass nearby eating ice cream, couples walk by talking, holding hands, kissing, stinging Cain with memories he'd much rather bury, striking into his chest like repeated snakebites of fear, spiking his anger. The whole world seems to enter slow motion as the camera focuses on Cain, blurring the rest of the shot a focusing solely on the figure in black at the centre of the shot, like a vortex sucking away all the happiness and enjoyment of the surrounding scene.**

It does you a lotta good to just watch people sometimes.

People don't notice ya when you're not one of them. I look around and I see a lotta happy people, but they don't see me - and I don't want 'em to see me.

They're too preoccupied with family, work, sunshine, the way they're gonna bang their boyfriend later, the night outthey got planned with the boys to a bar where the waitresses go topless, the football, the basketball, the beer, the women, the men, the vacation they're goin' on.

They don't see the bigger picture.

It's nice for them to be in their protected little bubble, thinking that everythin's gonna be ok, not worryin' about anything more than whether they got a clean shirt for the mornin'

They don't see the dark in the picture. They don't see me.

That dark will eat away at 'em. That dark will change 'em, like it changed me. You can only live this wonderful, perfect life so long. Before the bad things start to nag at you. Before the trouble starts. Before you start to doubt whether you can carry on.

**Cain looks over at a couple sitting on the grass nearby - the camera briefly focuses on them before cutting back to the narrator**

One day you're sitting on the grass starin' into the eyes of the most beautiful woman you've ever seen. You're makin' plans for the future, you're thinking about how much you love her and she loves you. You're buyin' a house together, you're buildin' a future. You got that ring in that little box in your pocket feelin' like the most powerful piece of metal in the world.

You feel like the man. Like the. Fuckin'. Man.

Then years later, you find yourself sittin' on a bench, lookin' over at people like and wantin' to shout and scream not to trust her. For her not to trust him. Cos you think he might turn out like you. He might be possessive, he might be a guy who just doesn't know how to let go, he might be a guy who gets so fuckin' obsessed with a part of his life that he can't let go of, that he'll destroy all the good things that keep them together.

You wanna tell him he's a fuckin' idiot for believin' he could be anythin' else other than that fuckin' machine that just hurts people. And that he'll hurt her, just like he hurt everyone else in his worthless Goddamned life. You wanna tell him to walk away now, so in the years that'll come, he can be used to all this shit and it won't burn in his soul like a fuckin' fire that will never go out, no matter how much water, ice, booze or painkillers you use to kill it. It just keeps gettin' bigger. You wanna tell him that the dark will get him, like it'll get her, and how it'll ruin everythin' they have, and one day he'll be sittin' here givin' someone else the same speech you got goin' on in your head right now.

The dark can be a bad thing.

But sometimes, the dark can be a good thing too. Cos once you embrace it, once you take it home and love it, become it, let it pour into your soul, it can take you to places you never thought you could go to.

There are five men I have to introduce to that dark if I'm gonna prove that I've still got it. I'm older, slower, maybe even a bit more outta shape than the rest of ya.

Yeah, I'm talkin' to you: Dredzin, Danny Sex, Obsidian Air, Phantom Panzer and definitely you Thomas Nixon

Some of you talk big. Some of you let your actions do the talkin'. Me, I prefer to do both.

Dredzin, you like to think you're some kind of badass monster - but how bad are you? I don't hear or see anythin' that tells me you're the dragon, and I'm Saint Fuckin' George. Breathe some fire - don't just say "you're comin home" and then leave people waitin'. There's a problem with you bein' home too - you get comfortable, you start relaxin' - you get like these fuckin' people out here. Like the world can't hurt you because you feel so laid back. Well, I got news for ya - bein' at home won;t help ya. You could be tucked up safe in bad, or standin' next to the North Pole, and I'll still kick the shit outta you - unless you can prove me wrong big man.

You still hearin' those voices Danny? You still got some weird demon inside of you tryna' tell you that you ain't actually a porn star with enough doses of the clap to infect most of the Eastern Seaboard? It must be nice when you can escape - run away to the recesses of your own fucked up mind, and again, you get comfortable, like all these people here, because you think that's the ordinary. You think that two voices in your head is fine - because you're listenin' to both. When you think like that, you're easy meat Danny, and I ain't talkin' about what's between ya legs.

I can guarantee ya you'd fit in better here though than Obsidian Air would though. Jesus, the smell of ya and your piss stained pants would clear this fuckin' park in ten seconds. You ain't like these people Obsidian, you ain't happy, you ain't livin' a false life - I'll give ya that. But my problem with you is that you don't have any fuckin' life. You sit there and expect people to feel fuckin' sorry for ya. Boo fuckin' hoo. Stand up for yourself. Don't go beggin' to people for money, or clothes, or fuckin' sympathy. Have some fuckin' pride. You beg me for change - I'll kick your fuckin' teeth in.

Then we get to the unknown. Phantom Panzer. Or Ghost Tank. Or fuckin Casper Sherman. Whatever the Hell your name is. You're like some of the people here - false-faced. You got a permanent smile, but behind that, is the dark. I can see it in your eyes - I can understand why you do what you do. The best way to make someone feel fear is to smile at them while you do the unthinkable. Hell, you might be a bigger monster than Dredzin is. Point being though, you know the dark, but you ain't the darkness we should be worried about. You can pretend to be this sadistic freak all you like, but you paint your face and make your balloon animals because deep down you wanna be loved. You have that crushing fear of rejection. I know cos I've been there. I know exactly where your head is - and that's somethin' I can exploit.

Finally, the Champion. The reason we're all locked into this little dance. Thomas Nixon. The man with the target painted on his back. You know and I know exactly what I'm talkin' about here Nixon. You see that dark in people, you've even got your own fuckin' people you're king of, and to do that, you gotta be a master of what's under the surface. But what's under your surface Thomas? What's makin' you tick these days? That belt gotta be gettin' awful heavy 'round your waist. You fight, and you fight well. But that ain't gonna be enough. The dark will come for you - like it'll come for everyone else. Like it came for me. The question is Thomas, will you embrace it, or will it consume you, and your people?

**Cain gets up from the bench as the sun begins to set**

Will ya look at that? People are leavin' Know why?

Surely you've figured it out by now?

The sun's goin' down.

The dark's comin'.

And everyone, in the end, is afraid of the dark...

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