Post by Declan Prescott on Jun 30, 2010 5:46:33 GMT -5
It was damn cold in that place. I had climbed into the air duct above Declan's office to avoid Misery, Gabrielle and just about every other female employee of GIW. Ever since I won the belt, the ladies had been after me - and not in a good way! They all wanted to kill me and take the Title from my dead hands! But I wasn't going to let that happen! Nor was I going to let the blonde little witch about 5 feet below me have her way with Declan.
The murderer was sitting on Declan's lap, who was seated comfortably in his office chair. Leaning back, one hand stroking the monster's thighs, the other wrapped firmly around its back. The demon child was resting it's sweet, milky face on his shoulder and smiling pleasantly, as if she didn't have a care in the world. How had she fooled him so?! And opposite the pair was that gangly hippy who always spoke about himself in third person. Some of the employees thought his name actually was 'The Blessed One'!
"Everything is going just as planned, then," Travis Roberts said, with no idea of my presence. "Deathman is probably steaming with rage right now... if he can even remember what happened, that is." He and Declan laughed at this. "Komosube and Brown are at each other's throats. All the pieces are falling into place so easily. Too easily, in fact. The Headliner has to wonder if there's something The Revolution overlooked."
"No," Declan responded, his voice as confident as ever. "All the cards are in our hands because of meticulous planning. We caught the entire planet with their pants down and now we're too far ahead for any of them to catch up."
"Travis Roberts agrees with you, Declan," the pot lover responded. "After all, The Blessed One and The Heart And Soul Of GIW are the only two who could have pulled this off. The fact it all seems to be running ridiculously smoothly says more about The Revolution's adversaries, than it does The Revolution."
"Exactly, man. We just have to be sure to stay sharp. With the two of us on our A-game, we can do this. No, we can't fail at this!"
"Yeah, yeah," Roberts responded, smirking. "But what about Hastings? Is he... you know?"
"He trusts me," Declan responded, now running a finger through his monster's glowing, golden hair. "And - at least for now - that trust can be useful to us."
"The Blessed One has to be honest, Declan. The way you talk about people as nothing more than puppets has Travis Roberts on edge. Who's to say you're not just jerking The Headliner's strings along, too?!"
"Relax, dude - "
"It's hard to 'relax', Declan!" Roberts spat, now rising to his feet. "When dealing with the devil!"
Cara's ears seemed to prick at the last word. Perhaps it was just the tension in the room. Declan's eyes had narrowed to nothing, but slits full of malice. Roberts was breathing heavily, staring at Declan, ready to kill. Then, within seconds, both men burst into laughter.
"You nearly had me worried for a second!" Declan chuckled.
"The Blessed One likes to keep things interesting," Roberts replied, also smiling. "Anyway, man, Travis Roberts should be heading out. That penguin has been even more demanding than usual lately."
"Oh yeah," Declan responded, as Travis began heading to the door. "I'll have to stop by and see that maniac sometime. He wanted to speak to me about some 'innovative, new match that'd take the mother fucking world by storm'."
"Well, he would say that, wouldn't he?" Roberts replied, opening the door. "The Headliner will see both you guys later. Just call if anything comes up."
"Will do, my man," Declan replied. "Stay cool."
"Bye Travis," Cara squeaked, insultingly faking some mock innocence.
"Later Cara," he replied, slipping through the door.
The door then closed and Cara sighed with relief. The pair were alone - or so they thought - and Cara now climbed onto the desk, resting her posterior on the top and placing her uncovered feet in Declan's lap. He began rubbing his hands from her feet, to her ankles, causing her to squeak with delight.
"He's so weird," she said, giggling slightly. "The way he always talks about himself in third person..."
"I'll admit, he's... unusual... but he's a good guy. He understands what needs to be done."
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, now crossing her legs, giving Declan a perfect view down her skirt. He was, however, focused only on her face, which had become rigid with seriousness.
"Tell you what?"
"About your alliance with him," she responded, her eyes narrowing with hurt. "Back around No Holds Barred? I had no idea you..." She trailed off, the frown in her sparkling pink lips telling more of a story than her words ever could.
"Cara," Declan said, rising to his feet. "I love you. More than anything. And I'd trust you with my life." I had to clasp my hands over my mouth at this instant, to keep in the scream! "But I couldn't risk you giving it away."
"I - " she protested, but was cut off by Declan placing a lone, gentle finger to her lips.
"I know you'd never give it away on purpose," he pleaded. "But there was always a chance that'd you'd accidentally let it slip. All it would have taken was a single glance, one sentence that was out of place. The whole thing could have been ruined. I'm sorry Cara and it pained me to lie to you, but I had no choi - "
"What else have you lied about?!" she demanded, crossly.
Declan sighed and began pacing around his desk, before speaking. "We have people quitting our company for a matter of minutes, before wanting to come back. Dylan James and his zombie lover are so oblivious to their surroundings, they want to taint the name of The Revolution. Some masked retard joins GIW and wants to face me! It seems to be impossible to win the Hardcore Title, unless you have some sort of STI. Our supposed 'fans' actually cheer at the notion of having a fat, sadistic, hypocritical, racist bully as their Champion. Less than two weeks ago a GIW wrestler killed himself on screen! If that had happened at Sentinel, we'd be off the air and out of business." Declan planted his rear on the desk next to Cara, an air of defeat lingering about him. "This company is rotting, Cara. The Revolution isn't just a name. It's a calling. A mission. A change that will eliminate the complacency of GIW. An evolution that must occur, lest GIW ceases to exist. Travis Roberts is the man who can do that. He can accomplish what I can't."
Cara gasped. I nearly gasped. "Wha... what do you mean?" she stumbled out, seemingly afraid of the answer.
"What else I haven't told you," he replied, rubbing his hand through her hair once more. "I'm retiring, sweetie. From in-ring competition."
"What?!" she blurted out. "Why?!"
"Remember in Vegas?" Declan inquired. "I said after our work was done, you'd have me all to yourself. Well, our work is done now. Roberts can begin where I left off. He'll have me backing him every step of the way. Together, we can't be defeated. We'll rock GIW to it's very foundation and everyone involved will be swept up in a tidal storm. They'll either swim or drown. And while GIW becomes everything I had ever envisioned it to be, with Travis Roberts at the helm, I'll be here, by your side. Whenever you need me."
Cara's eyes were now glistening in the light, filling with salty water. Declan wrapped his arm around her and pulled her towards him. She fell limply into his arms, with no resistance.
"And I won't wrestle again, for as long as you need me," he said, tears now seeping out of his eyes also. "I promised I'd always be there for you. I promised I'd never keep any secrets from you. I've broken both those promises. But now I'm going to do everything I can to make that up to you."
"The detective..." she mumbled, trembling slightly.
"...Will never lay a finger on either of us," Declan finished, an unsettling emptiness filling his words. "He'll die before I allow that."
Cara's eyes bulged almost out of her head, as she shot her vision into Declan's eyes. "You'd... k... kill for me?" she stuttered.
His eyes narrowed and his lips sharpened into one, thin, deadly line. "Without hesitation."
The murderer was sitting on Declan's lap, who was seated comfortably in his office chair. Leaning back, one hand stroking the monster's thighs, the other wrapped firmly around its back. The demon child was resting it's sweet, milky face on his shoulder and smiling pleasantly, as if she didn't have a care in the world. How had she fooled him so?! And opposite the pair was that gangly hippy who always spoke about himself in third person. Some of the employees thought his name actually was 'The Blessed One'!
"Everything is going just as planned, then," Travis Roberts said, with no idea of my presence. "Deathman is probably steaming with rage right now... if he can even remember what happened, that is." He and Declan laughed at this. "Komosube and Brown are at each other's throats. All the pieces are falling into place so easily. Too easily, in fact. The Headliner has to wonder if there's something The Revolution overlooked."
"No," Declan responded, his voice as confident as ever. "All the cards are in our hands because of meticulous planning. We caught the entire planet with their pants down and now we're too far ahead for any of them to catch up."
"Travis Roberts agrees with you, Declan," the pot lover responded. "After all, The Blessed One and The Heart And Soul Of GIW are the only two who could have pulled this off. The fact it all seems to be running ridiculously smoothly says more about The Revolution's adversaries, than it does The Revolution."
"Exactly, man. We just have to be sure to stay sharp. With the two of us on our A-game, we can do this. No, we can't fail at this!"
"Yeah, yeah," Roberts responded, smirking. "But what about Hastings? Is he... you know?"
"He trusts me," Declan responded, now running a finger through his monster's glowing, golden hair. "And - at least for now - that trust can be useful to us."
"The Blessed One has to be honest, Declan. The way you talk about people as nothing more than puppets has Travis Roberts on edge. Who's to say you're not just jerking The Headliner's strings along, too?!"
"Relax, dude - "
"It's hard to 'relax', Declan!" Roberts spat, now rising to his feet. "When dealing with the devil!"
Cara's ears seemed to prick at the last word. Perhaps it was just the tension in the room. Declan's eyes had narrowed to nothing, but slits full of malice. Roberts was breathing heavily, staring at Declan, ready to kill. Then, within seconds, both men burst into laughter.
"You nearly had me worried for a second!" Declan chuckled.
"The Blessed One likes to keep things interesting," Roberts replied, also smiling. "Anyway, man, Travis Roberts should be heading out. That penguin has been even more demanding than usual lately."
"Oh yeah," Declan responded, as Travis began heading to the door. "I'll have to stop by and see that maniac sometime. He wanted to speak to me about some 'innovative, new match that'd take the mother fucking world by storm'."
"Well, he would say that, wouldn't he?" Roberts replied, opening the door. "The Headliner will see both you guys later. Just call if anything comes up."
"Will do, my man," Declan replied. "Stay cool."
"Bye Travis," Cara squeaked, insultingly faking some mock innocence.
"Later Cara," he replied, slipping through the door.
The door then closed and Cara sighed with relief. The pair were alone - or so they thought - and Cara now climbed onto the desk, resting her posterior on the top and placing her uncovered feet in Declan's lap. He began rubbing his hands from her feet, to her ankles, causing her to squeak with delight.
"He's so weird," she said, giggling slightly. "The way he always talks about himself in third person..."
"I'll admit, he's... unusual... but he's a good guy. He understands what needs to be done."
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, now crossing her legs, giving Declan a perfect view down her skirt. He was, however, focused only on her face, which had become rigid with seriousness.
"Tell you what?"
"About your alliance with him," she responded, her eyes narrowing with hurt. "Back around No Holds Barred? I had no idea you..." She trailed off, the frown in her sparkling pink lips telling more of a story than her words ever could.
"Cara," Declan said, rising to his feet. "I love you. More than anything. And I'd trust you with my life." I had to clasp my hands over my mouth at this instant, to keep in the scream! "But I couldn't risk you giving it away."
"I - " she protested, but was cut off by Declan placing a lone, gentle finger to her lips.
"I know you'd never give it away on purpose," he pleaded. "But there was always a chance that'd you'd accidentally let it slip. All it would have taken was a single glance, one sentence that was out of place. The whole thing could have been ruined. I'm sorry Cara and it pained me to lie to you, but I had no choi - "
"What else have you lied about?!" she demanded, crossly.
Declan sighed and began pacing around his desk, before speaking. "We have people quitting our company for a matter of minutes, before wanting to come back. Dylan James and his zombie lover are so oblivious to their surroundings, they want to taint the name of The Revolution. Some masked retard joins GIW and wants to face me! It seems to be impossible to win the Hardcore Title, unless you have some sort of STI. Our supposed 'fans' actually cheer at the notion of having a fat, sadistic, hypocritical, racist bully as their Champion. Less than two weeks ago a GIW wrestler killed himself on screen! If that had happened at Sentinel, we'd be off the air and out of business." Declan planted his rear on the desk next to Cara, an air of defeat lingering about him. "This company is rotting, Cara. The Revolution isn't just a name. It's a calling. A mission. A change that will eliminate the complacency of GIW. An evolution that must occur, lest GIW ceases to exist. Travis Roberts is the man who can do that. He can accomplish what I can't."
Cara gasped. I nearly gasped. "Wha... what do you mean?" she stumbled out, seemingly afraid of the answer.
"What else I haven't told you," he replied, rubbing his hand through her hair once more. "I'm retiring, sweetie. From in-ring competition."
"What?!" she blurted out. "Why?!"
"Remember in Vegas?" Declan inquired. "I said after our work was done, you'd have me all to yourself. Well, our work is done now. Roberts can begin where I left off. He'll have me backing him every step of the way. Together, we can't be defeated. We'll rock GIW to it's very foundation and everyone involved will be swept up in a tidal storm. They'll either swim or drown. And while GIW becomes everything I had ever envisioned it to be, with Travis Roberts at the helm, I'll be here, by your side. Whenever you need me."
Cara's eyes were now glistening in the light, filling with salty water. Declan wrapped his arm around her and pulled her towards him. She fell limply into his arms, with no resistance.
"And I won't wrestle again, for as long as you need me," he said, tears now seeping out of his eyes also. "I promised I'd always be there for you. I promised I'd never keep any secrets from you. I've broken both those promises. But now I'm going to do everything I can to make that up to you."
"The detective..." she mumbled, trembling slightly.
"...Will never lay a finger on either of us," Declan finished, an unsettling emptiness filling his words. "He'll die before I allow that."
Cara's eyes bulged almost out of her head, as she shot her vision into Declan's eyes. "You'd... k... kill for me?" she stuttered.
His eyes narrowed and his lips sharpened into one, thin, deadly line. "Without hesitation."
