Post by Zane on Mar 28, 2023 15:00:19 GMT -5
It’s about an hour after “Nightmare at Gnaw Bone” but Zane still hasn’t left. He appears to be seated in the sensory deprivation box he occupied before the match, but the door’s open. His face is still caked with blood and his eyes still don’t look quite right. There are probably bruises forming, but the box is still just dark enough that it’s hard to tell. His fingers are steepled in front of his face. He looks worn and tired, and perhaps a bit older. If a match could age a person, being locked in a sensory deprivation chamber before getting your ass beaten in a Monster’s Ball match by a tough-as-nails woman would probably do it. He still doesn’t look like his eyes are back to their normal focus yet, and he’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice Roxy walk up to him.
“Hi, Zane,”
No reaction.
“Is it ok if I talk to you?”
Still no reaction. She stands awkwardly for a moment, not certain what to do. Finally, she looks at him with a look of sympathy, sighs, then turns to leave.
“Roxy.”
He sounds exhausted and still a little detached. His voice doesn’t sound like his because of a slight rattle and the quiet, empty tone. She nearly jumps at the intrusion of his voice but turns and looks at him. He slowly looks up at her, his face framed by the low light in such a way that his head is framed, but his eyes are mostly swallowed by shadow.
“Zane?” she asks.
“Roxy,” he replies, somewhat distantly.
“Are you ok?”
He replies with a low, raspy bark of a laugh that causes her to take a step back.
“Ok,” he asks, his voice definitely off.
She looks across the opening of the box at him, clearly a bit on edge thanks to the environment, what she’d witnessed during “Nightmare at Gnaw Bone”, and because of Zane mostly being shrouded in darkness.
“Should I get a doctor,” she’s clearly concerned. “You don’t seem quite right.”
“Right,” he’s distant. “What is ‘right’? This has been an enlightening experience…”
“...Enlightening?”
“Yes,” a pause. “I understand things so much better now.”
“What do you understand better?” Roxy asks.
Zane silently stares at her for a few seconds, totally immobile. After a few seconds, the white of his teeth shows in the low light.
“Perspectives...views...ideas...” he chuckles. “Twenty-four hours.”
He laughs inexplicably, causing Roxy to stare at him after his fragmented statement.
“What about it,” she presses.
“Only a symptom,” he replies, suddenly shooting to his feet, causing Roxy to leap backward with a yelp.
A few of the crew come running at her yelp, but she signals them with a raised hand. They remain where they’d stopped. She looks back at Zane, who hasn’t moved, but his creepy wide toothed smile remains affixed on his face.
“A symptom,” he repeats. “She and others are only a symptom. Not real…”
He trails off again, taking an absentminded step from the box. He stops and looks at Roxy, causing her to visibly shiver.
“What’s not real?”
“Nothing,” he replies.
“Nothing?” she queries.
“Everything.”
“Uh...ok. I’m not sure what you mean...”
He turns and looks down at her, the smile still in place.
“We are not who we are,” he answers cryptically. “We are who we are said to be.”
Roxy turns and looks at the crew, one of whom, a large bald-headed man, just shrugs at her. She turns back to Zane.
“Who we are said to be?” she inquires. “I don’t understand...”
“We?” he looks out over the expansive land, causing Roxy to stare out with him. Seeing nothing, she looks back at him.
“We are not permitted to decide,” he mumbles. “The voices of the popular will always speak in place of us.”
Zane looks down and smiles at her, this one more normal and less chilling. She’s clearly confused but doesn’t seem frightened by it.
“We aren’t permitted to decide…” he repeats as he wanders off, leaving Roxy and the backstage crew looking at each other in confusion.
“Hi, Zane,”
No reaction.
“Is it ok if I talk to you?”
Still no reaction. She stands awkwardly for a moment, not certain what to do. Finally, she looks at him with a look of sympathy, sighs, then turns to leave.
“Roxy.”
He sounds exhausted and still a little detached. His voice doesn’t sound like his because of a slight rattle and the quiet, empty tone. She nearly jumps at the intrusion of his voice but turns and looks at him. He slowly looks up at her, his face framed by the low light in such a way that his head is framed, but his eyes are mostly swallowed by shadow.
“Zane?” she asks.
“Roxy,” he replies, somewhat distantly.
“Are you ok?”
He replies with a low, raspy bark of a laugh that causes her to take a step back.
“Ok,” he asks, his voice definitely off.
She looks across the opening of the box at him, clearly a bit on edge thanks to the environment, what she’d witnessed during “Nightmare at Gnaw Bone”, and because of Zane mostly being shrouded in darkness.
“Should I get a doctor,” she’s clearly concerned. “You don’t seem quite right.”
“Right,” he’s distant. “What is ‘right’? This has been an enlightening experience…”
“...Enlightening?”
“Yes,” a pause. “I understand things so much better now.”
“What do you understand better?” Roxy asks.
Zane silently stares at her for a few seconds, totally immobile. After a few seconds, the white of his teeth shows in the low light.
“Perspectives...views...ideas...” he chuckles. “Twenty-four hours.”
He laughs inexplicably, causing Roxy to stare at him after his fragmented statement.
“What about it,” she presses.
“Only a symptom,” he replies, suddenly shooting to his feet, causing Roxy to leap backward with a yelp.
A few of the crew come running at her yelp, but she signals them with a raised hand. They remain where they’d stopped. She looks back at Zane, who hasn’t moved, but his creepy wide toothed smile remains affixed on his face.
“A symptom,” he repeats. “She and others are only a symptom. Not real…”
He trails off again, taking an absentminded step from the box. He stops and looks at Roxy, causing her to visibly shiver.
“What’s not real?”
“Nothing,” he replies.
“Nothing?” she queries.
“Everything.”
“Uh...ok. I’m not sure what you mean...”
He turns and looks down at her, the smile still in place.
“We are not who we are,” he answers cryptically. “We are who we are said to be.”
Roxy turns and looks at the crew, one of whom, a large bald-headed man, just shrugs at her. She turns back to Zane.
“Who we are said to be?” she inquires. “I don’t understand...”
“We?” he looks out over the expansive land, causing Roxy to stare out with him. Seeing nothing, she looks back at him.
“We are not permitted to decide,” he mumbles. “The voices of the popular will always speak in place of us.”
Zane looks down and smiles at her, this one more normal and less chilling. She’s clearly confused but doesn’t seem frightened by it.
“We aren’t permitted to decide…” he repeats as he wanders off, leaving Roxy and the backstage crew looking at each other in confusion.
2013, '18, '23 
2013 