Post by Declan Prescott on Jun 30, 2010 6:32:58 GMT -5
Part I
Genesis and Revelations
I had always stood for justice. Ever since it happened. You see, when we were children, my parents always made it my responsibility to take care of her. My sweet, always giggling little sister. Selena. I was eleven the day it happened. She was seven. The fourth of March, 1983. A Friday. It was like any other Friday. We were walking home from school. Leading her by the hand and keeping her safe the entire way. She was always teased on the bus. Cowardly bullies seeing the pure innocence behind her massive, glowing brown eyes and exploiting it to no end. But while we walked hand in hand, our bodies and souls inseparable, she was protected from any danger. That was the promise I made.
As we walked, her sweet, chocolate brown hair glittered in the sunlight. Her round, brown eyes sparkled with excitement. Her tiny, pasty legs skipped with anticipation. Every Friday on the way home we stopped at the general store a few blocks over from our house. We’d each buy an ice cream to celebrate the coming weekend.
"I'm gonna buy chocolate," she squeaked. "It's my very favourite, big brother!"
But everything went so wrong on this day.
The day that makes me question everything.
The worst day of my life.
It was a stick of gum. Something so pointless and fleeting. Slipping it into her pocket, just for a bit of fun. But he saw. The deranged, murderous beast behind the counter saw it. He reached over and slapped her across the face. Knocking her entire bubbly, little frame to the floor and cracking her head against the counter. I ran to her, but she pushed me away. Screaming, in pain and completely humiliated. She ran from my arms, away from my grasp. Out of reach of my protection. Straight out the shop door and onto the road.
It took them 4 hours to clean all of her off the ground.
A bus had collided directly into her minuscule, angelic being. The very bus we refused to catch home because of the rampant bullying she suffered on it. Blood, bone and pink meat splattering into a million tiny pieces and filling the street, the sidewalk and my tear filled eyes.
I began scrambling for the sloppy chunks of flesh littering everything around me. I tried so desperately to mash them back together. To fix my sweet, innocent, baby sister. To put her beautiful body and her perfect soul back together again. But I couldn’t. The red matter slipped through my hands as quickly as I could wrap my fingers around it.
She was gone. Her magnificent spirit taken from this corrupt and decaying world. I couldn’t bring her back. But I could make sure her precious and wonderful life wasn’t wasted. She would be my inspiration. From her death I vowed a better world would be born. One where the unjust, the corrupt, the cruel would all fall at the hands of social value and true morality. And I, Douglas Maguire, would be the enforcer of the new world.
Genesis and Revelations
I had always stood for justice. Ever since it happened. You see, when we were children, my parents always made it my responsibility to take care of her. My sweet, always giggling little sister. Selena. I was eleven the day it happened. She was seven. The fourth of March, 1983. A Friday. It was like any other Friday. We were walking home from school. Leading her by the hand and keeping her safe the entire way. She was always teased on the bus. Cowardly bullies seeing the pure innocence behind her massive, glowing brown eyes and exploiting it to no end. But while we walked hand in hand, our bodies and souls inseparable, she was protected from any danger. That was the promise I made.
As we walked, her sweet, chocolate brown hair glittered in the sunlight. Her round, brown eyes sparkled with excitement. Her tiny, pasty legs skipped with anticipation. Every Friday on the way home we stopped at the general store a few blocks over from our house. We’d each buy an ice cream to celebrate the coming weekend.
"I'm gonna buy chocolate," she squeaked. "It's my very favourite, big brother!"
But everything went so wrong on this day.
The day that makes me question everything.
The worst day of my life.
It was a stick of gum. Something so pointless and fleeting. Slipping it into her pocket, just for a bit of fun. But he saw. The deranged, murderous beast behind the counter saw it. He reached over and slapped her across the face. Knocking her entire bubbly, little frame to the floor and cracking her head against the counter. I ran to her, but she pushed me away. Screaming, in pain and completely humiliated. She ran from my arms, away from my grasp. Out of reach of my protection. Straight out the shop door and onto the road.
It took them 4 hours to clean all of her off the ground.
A bus had collided directly into her minuscule, angelic being. The very bus we refused to catch home because of the rampant bullying she suffered on it. Blood, bone and pink meat splattering into a million tiny pieces and filling the street, the sidewalk and my tear filled eyes.
I began scrambling for the sloppy chunks of flesh littering everything around me. I tried so desperately to mash them back together. To fix my sweet, innocent, baby sister. To put her beautiful body and her perfect soul back together again. But I couldn’t. The red matter slipped through my hands as quickly as I could wrap my fingers around it.
She was gone. Her magnificent spirit taken from this corrupt and decaying world. I couldn’t bring her back. But I could make sure her precious and wonderful life wasn’t wasted. She would be my inspiration. From her death I vowed a better world would be born. One where the unjust, the corrupt, the cruel would all fall at the hands of social value and true morality. And I, Douglas Maguire, would be the enforcer of the new world.
“Some people say it’s a tragedy. I’m not one of them. Actions have consequences. And there are reprisals for everything that we do. It’s a part of life. No, it is life. Our decisions and the actions based upon those decisions are what ultimately determines what happens to us. No fate. Little chance. Just a single decision replayed infinitely times over. Doesn’t matter if you’re a child, an adult or anything in between. Life is what we make it. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
Seventeen years had passed since David Andrews murdered my sister. And I spent every single one of them searching endlessly for him. Took me a while, but I finally turned up the results I needed. That the world needed. He had left town, taken up a new home and name in Los Angeles, California and with good reason. While the courts found him not guilty, society hadn’t. He had been assaulted, his home broken into and his family bombarded with death threats. It was obvious. The law had failed the people. And now they needed someone to correct that mistake.
He entered his home on that night after a long’s day work at the gas station. He hadn’t killed anyone while he was there. And trust me, I had been watching. He turned on the living room light and gasped in horror. The look in his face so familiar. It captured every emotion I had been feeling constantly since Selena was taken from me at his hands. Now he saw his own precious ones. His 30 year old daughter and his ageing wife both tied to chairs, duct tape covering their mouths and their faces red with hysterics. Tears poured endlessly from their eyes as they moaned and moaned in desperation. Trying to warn the killer of the avenger standing behind him.
In one, seamless motion I grabbed his arms, cuffed both his wrists slammed his knees into the floor. As he knelt like a dog, I took the pocket knife from my coat and held it to his daughter’s trembling throat. She wept and moaned for her dearest father to save her.
“How does it feel?” I asked him. “To look at the ones you love and cherish more than anything in the world about to die and to know that you’re absolutely powerless to save them?!”
“I - ”
“I DIDN’T GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO SPEAK YET!”
He cowered in fear. Every fibre in his being wanting to assault me, but his weak, cowardly interior preventing such an action. He wasn’t so tough when his victim wasn’t a child.
“Selena Maguire!” I spat, feeling the power in my words shatter his soul. “It’s her birthday, did you know? She would have been 25 years old today. But instead she’s buried in the ground, her body having rotten completely away.”
“I DIDN’T MEAN TO!” he begged, sniffling and sobbing. It seemed he thought he could actually convince me that he had a soul. Ha! “NOT A DAY GOES BY THAT I WISH I HADN’T HIT THAT LITTLE GIRL! BUT I DIDN’T KILL HER! I DIDN’T KILL H - ”
“DON’T LIE TO ME! I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU ARE!”
With a flick of my wrist, red water spilled from his daughter’s neck. It gushed down her torso and pooled in her skirt. He cried and wailed relentlessly. Even threw his body straight at me. He only went lumbering face first into the carpet. Relishing the justice, I removed the tape over his wife’s mouth. She screamed so loud and with such horror, I nearly laughed. The reversal never failed to inspire me. But this was different. As if my life’s calling was being fulfilled and I was completely aware of it. A rare treat. For one to have the opportunity of knowingly fulfilling their destiny.
“And you,” I hissed, my eyes landing squarely on the mistress of death. “The quiet, supportive wife of the child killing monster.”
She tried to speak. “I - ”
“YOU KNEW WHAT HE DID! AND YET BLINDLY FOLLOWED HIM WITHOUT ANY DOUBT AT ALL!! You ignored my pain. The pain of society. Of our world. But now you know the pain that we all felt. You can die in peace.”
With a second insertion, the devil worshipper was gone from our world. With just one flick of a blade, this world had become that tiny bit cleaner.
And then he was my only focus.
He entered his home on that night after a long’s day work at the gas station. He hadn’t killed anyone while he was there. And trust me, I had been watching. He turned on the living room light and gasped in horror. The look in his face so familiar. It captured every emotion I had been feeling constantly since Selena was taken from me at his hands. Now he saw his own precious ones. His 30 year old daughter and his ageing wife both tied to chairs, duct tape covering their mouths and their faces red with hysterics. Tears poured endlessly from their eyes as they moaned and moaned in desperation. Trying to warn the killer of the avenger standing behind him.
In one, seamless motion I grabbed his arms, cuffed both his wrists slammed his knees into the floor. As he knelt like a dog, I took the pocket knife from my coat and held it to his daughter’s trembling throat. She wept and moaned for her dearest father to save her.
“How does it feel?” I asked him. “To look at the ones you love and cherish more than anything in the world about to die and to know that you’re absolutely powerless to save them?!”
“I - ”
“I DIDN’T GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO SPEAK YET!”
He cowered in fear. Every fibre in his being wanting to assault me, but his weak, cowardly interior preventing such an action. He wasn’t so tough when his victim wasn’t a child.
“Selena Maguire!” I spat, feeling the power in my words shatter his soul. “It’s her birthday, did you know? She would have been 25 years old today. But instead she’s buried in the ground, her body having rotten completely away.”
“I DIDN’T MEAN TO!” he begged, sniffling and sobbing. It seemed he thought he could actually convince me that he had a soul. Ha! “NOT A DAY GOES BY THAT I WISH I HADN’T HIT THAT LITTLE GIRL! BUT I DIDN’T KILL HER! I DIDN’T KILL H - ”
“DON’T LIE TO ME! I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU ARE!”
With a flick of my wrist, red water spilled from his daughter’s neck. It gushed down her torso and pooled in her skirt. He cried and wailed relentlessly. Even threw his body straight at me. He only went lumbering face first into the carpet. Relishing the justice, I removed the tape over his wife’s mouth. She screamed so loud and with such horror, I nearly laughed. The reversal never failed to inspire me. But this was different. As if my life’s calling was being fulfilled and I was completely aware of it. A rare treat. For one to have the opportunity of knowingly fulfilling their destiny.
“And you,” I hissed, my eyes landing squarely on the mistress of death. “The quiet, supportive wife of the child killing monster.”
She tried to speak. “I - ”
“YOU KNEW WHAT HE DID! AND YET BLINDLY FOLLOWED HIM WITHOUT ANY DOUBT AT ALL!! You ignored my pain. The pain of society. Of our world. But now you know the pain that we all felt. You can die in peace.”
With a second insertion, the devil worshipper was gone from our world. With just one flick of a blade, this world had become that tiny bit cleaner.
And then he was my only focus.
“Stupid cunt deserved it, I say. I don’t know who did it and I don’t really care. Justice was served. That’s all that matters. Then again, I wouldn’t mind buying a drink for whoever put this dog down.”
“That’s kind of disrespectful, ******.”
Without a word I dropped the blade before him and undid the handcuffs. I stood before him, allowing the next move to be solely in his control. He picked up the knife and thrust it into my side. So predictable. The cut wasn’t enough to kill me, I had made sure of that, but all the same, he had assaulted me. I went crashing into the sofa. Standing over me, his teeth bared in inhuman rage. The same rage I had seen seventeen years ago. He was going to kill me. Or so he wished.
Grinning, I removed the radio from my coat. Mustering the most hacked cough I could, I pounded on my throat and then spluttered into the device.
“This is… Officer Douglas Maguire… I’m at 66 James Road and have been stabbed. I need… I need immediate reinforcements and an ambulance! I’ve got two victims here and the offender is still… on the scene.”
His jaw was hanging open like a soulless void. His entire body shaking.
“You’re a cop?!” he spat. “And her brother?!”
“That’s right,” I mocked.
I removed my gun and placed it squarely on him.
“And you can either stay here and die or run and live with your guilt. Either way, when my partners get here, they’re going to believe that you killed your family. Just like you killed mine.”
He took a step back and began scrambling to the door. “This isn’t over,” he barked after him. “I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU BASTARD!!!”
“No you’re not,” I stated, stopping him dead in his tracks. “You’d like to, because you’re a disgusting murderer. But you want me dead because you think you have nothing left to lose. But what about your grandchildren? Timothy and Wendy?”
He fell to his knees, weeping uncontrollably.
“No you piece of shit,” I spat. “You’re going to live the rest of your life with the consequences of what you did. And you’re never going to hurt another member of society again. Because if you do, I’ll be there, waiting.”
He charged full speed at me. Perhaps driven by insanity, perhaps finally realising that he had no right to live in this world. I didn’t care. I pulled the trigger and ended his life. Blinded by the rage that consumed him, he took the coward’s way out. All it would have taken was one word to the police. All he had to do was say the name ‘Selena’. My associates would have realised that it was no coincidence I requested a transfer to L.A. and only six months later, stumbled across a crime scene involving the man who butchered my sister. But I knew the guilt drove him as my struggle for justice drove me. Hacked finger tips, deleted dental records, this animal had spared no expense to escape his past. And that had been his doing. Now he was just a corpse without a name or face.
We were both victims to what we were. But unlike him, I only ever acted for the good of humanity. And I always would. I’d never give up. Because the world still needed me and because I still couldn’t bring Selena back.
Grinning, I removed the radio from my coat. Mustering the most hacked cough I could, I pounded on my throat and then spluttered into the device.
“This is… Officer Douglas Maguire… I’m at 66 James Road and have been stabbed. I need… I need immediate reinforcements and an ambulance! I’ve got two victims here and the offender is still… on the scene.”
His jaw was hanging open like a soulless void. His entire body shaking.
“You’re a cop?!” he spat. “And her brother?!”
“That’s right,” I mocked.
I removed my gun and placed it squarely on him.
“And you can either stay here and die or run and live with your guilt. Either way, when my partners get here, they’re going to believe that you killed your family. Just like you killed mine.”
He took a step back and began scrambling to the door. “This isn’t over,” he barked after him. “I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU BASTARD!!!”
“No you’re not,” I stated, stopping him dead in his tracks. “You’d like to, because you’re a disgusting murderer. But you want me dead because you think you have nothing left to lose. But what about your grandchildren? Timothy and Wendy?”
He fell to his knees, weeping uncontrollably.
“No you piece of shit,” I spat. “You’re going to live the rest of your life with the consequences of what you did. And you’re never going to hurt another member of society again. Because if you do, I’ll be there, waiting.”
He charged full speed at me. Perhaps driven by insanity, perhaps finally realising that he had no right to live in this world. I didn’t care. I pulled the trigger and ended his life. Blinded by the rage that consumed him, he took the coward’s way out. All it would have taken was one word to the police. All he had to do was say the name ‘Selena’. My associates would have realised that it was no coincidence I requested a transfer to L.A. and only six months later, stumbled across a crime scene involving the man who butchered my sister. But I knew the guilt drove him as my struggle for justice drove me. Hacked finger tips, deleted dental records, this animal had spared no expense to escape his past. And that had been his doing. Now he was just a corpse without a name or face.
We were both victims to what we were. But unlike him, I only ever acted for the good of humanity. And I always would. I’d never give up. Because the world still needed me and because I still couldn’t bring Selena back.
“Yeah, you’re right as usual,” he said. “It is disrespectful. But this piece of waste doesn’t deserve any respect. Even if he is in a coma.”
Declan and Cara Prescott stood in a sterile hospital room. In the bed before them, Douglas Maguire lay, completely unconscious. Cara had her hands wrapped around Declan’s left and was staring at the lifeless body with remorse in her giant, hazel eyes. The exterior of Prescott was motionless and icier than the blank white walls of the hospital room.
"It's cold in here," she quivered.
“Shot in the chest,” he spoke. “He was technically dead for over a minute, I hear. Unfortunately he was revived, but his brain was robbed of oxygen and they don’t think he’ll ever come out of this coma. So it’s not all bad news.”
“Even if he was cruel and twisted, he was still a person, Declan,” Cara responded. “How can you be so… pleased?”
“Cara, do you know what love is?”
Her eyes widened and she gasped from the surprise. What kind of question was that?!
“Love,” he began, as if able to read her thoughts. “Is when you re-evaluate every single thing you have ever believed because your current system doesn’t serve the person you’ve pledged yourself to. My mind, body and soul belong to you now. Just as yours belong to me. I spent almost two decades of my life believing that no human being, under any circumstances, ever has the right to take another human life. And now I stand here, staring at this waste of a man, completely ready and willing to kill him if he ever wakes up.”
“So love is death?”
He smirked and moved his gaze to meet hers. “Your morbid word choice is surprisingly beautiful.”
“Why did you want me to see this?” she asked, frowning at his supposed compliment.
“It’s like I said the other week in the gym,” he replied. “This beast that preyed upon you now lies here, completely defenceless, like a vegetable. And that’s the best possible future this stray will ever have, because if he ever wakes up, he’ll have no future at all. Cara, you’ve awakened something inside of me. Something I had been hiding from since I was a child. But now I’ve embraced it.
“Essentially, what I’m trying to say, is that you’ll never have to fear another monster again. Because you now have your own wild beast protecting you.”
She gasped in horror and almost went buttocks first to the floor, but Declan caught her in his arms, before impact. He smiled and motioned towards the door. The pair exited the room, Cara feeling a cold chill down her spine and leaving Maguire completely alone, except for the twisted memories filling his mind.
Part II
Resurrection
Resurrection
“And what a showing it’s going to be,” Declan said, as the pair walked casually down the deserted hospital hallway. “This darkness inside me is poised and waiting to rip through the surface and destroy. And now that you’re okay with me wrestling again, it’s going to be unleashed every single week.”
“You’re kinda scaring me…”
“No, no,” he replied. “This beast doesn’t wish to destroy, sweetheart. Just the opposite. It only wants to protect. It’s driven by love. And its fury will devour anything that ever threatens you or your happiness.”
“And you’re going to do that by wrestling?” she inquired, with a raised eyebrow.
“Of course I am,” he said, kissing her gently on the side of the skull, as they walked. “The more successful GIW is, the more secure our lives become. And GIW can only become successful with true Champions at the top. Like myself. Like Travis Roberts.”
“I don’t wanna hear anymore ‘love’ talk!”
“No, no,” he replied. “Travis Roberts and I have now set in motion a chain of events that is going to see GIW evolve into the mightiest wrestling organisation imaginable. Imagine a company with the two greatest wrestlers alive at the helm - one as its Champion and the other its owner. The Blessed One may not be a Declan Prescott, but he’s the next best thing, without a doubt.”
“So why don’t you just go after the belt again?” she asked, sticking her finger in his ear out of pure boredom.
“Eck!” he snapped, but made no attempt to stop her. “But you’ve answered your own question, Cara. ‘Again’. Last time I was Champion everyone in this company and every fan watching knew I was the best. Hell, look at the string of Champions since I lost that belt. Brown was institutionalised after losing the gold. He’s deranged and spends all his time trying to fend off molestation from Nicholas Cage or talking to an imaginary belt that he, in turn, would like to molest.
“And to sum up how pitiful Brown really is, he was defeated by Deathman - a dyslexic, corpse raping emo who lives in a castle. Honestly, Deathman was a disgrace, who’s greatest achievement after winning the Title was no showing an event, just to avoid getting humiliated by a drug riddled, Andy ‘I can’t commit longer than five minutes’ Savana. After Roberts disgraced The General Of Disappointments, he fled, unable to take the thought of yet another crushing defeat.
“And then there was Komosube. The absolute worst Global Champion I could ever have pictured. That fat, psychotic retard walking around with that belt made me want to vomit. His Title run was almost as pathetic as Chris Austin’s. Exclaiming his ‘crowning achievement’ to whoever was unlucky enough to be in earshot of the drivel that spewed from his mouth. Boasting of his ‘Japanese honour’, all the while bullying young women and head butting holes in walls, killing what minuscule amount of brain cells he had left, and then acting as if he showed great skill when they didn’t fight back. But what happened when he had an opponent who could defend themselves? Who was of sound mind and could exploit his vulnerabilities? He disappeared off the face of the fucking earth, his tail between his grease filled legs.
“They all gave up. Brandon Brown, Deathman, Komosube, none of them had the endurance to persevere no matter the obstacle. To never give up and be absolutely determined in their cause. But me, what did The Heart And Soul Of GIW do? I recovered and returned as quickly as I could, unwilling to admit defeat. I set my plan into motion instantly and now it has come to fruition. You see, it isn’t a matter of opinion or spin, it’s just a fact that I’m superior to all three of them. Yet I was always hated as Champion. Despised by everyone around me, except you, Daniel and - as much as it pains me to say - Skinny. Everyone knew I was the best, but they blindly protested that I was abusing my power by placing myself in that position. Despite the fact I accepted any challenge and had to win my way to the Title, all they saw was the boss sitting on top of the Championship mountain. The fact he was the only one who could do thate role justice was irrelevant to those fools.
“That’s why I need Roberts. With him, there’s no bias. No idiotic, preconceived notions of ‘politics’ or 'abused power'. The Chris Austin’s of the world can’t argue that Travis Roberts doesn’t deserve to hold that Title. Their simple minds are forced to accept the truth that Travis Roberts is, simply, better than they are and no amount of emo porn videos, Japanese superiority, Red Bull induced metaphors or one night stands with Satan will change that. There’ll be nothing they can do to avoid the one, single, inevitable conclusion… they can’t match The Revolution in any aspect of their miserable lives.”
“I don’t know Hazel, I’ll have to ask Declan,” she placed her hand over the cell phone speaker and turned her attention to The Significant Player, as the pair entered the elevator. “Is it okay if I go to Hazel’s hen’s night? There’s going to be a stripper. You know I wouldn’t do anything, but, like, I thought I should ask…”
He sighed, slumped against the back wall and slid his hands with defeat into his pocket. “You didn’t hear a word, did you?”
“Huh? I won’t go if you’re going to get upset. Hazel woill be annoyed with you though…”
“No, no,” he replied. “That’s fine. I guess it’s my own fault. I know you’re not into wrestling, like I am.”
“Umm, yeah, I’ll come, Hazel… but Declan is getting all emo on me… no, I already told him about Mitch’s bachelor party, he said he didn’t wanna go… no, of course he likes girls! Wha… no, I said he could… no! I wasn’t shaking my head when I told him, I was just stomping on his foot… NO! Well, it would be sort of interesting… huh… Hazel, he’s standing right next to me! Doesn’t look like he’s paying much attention though. Hey baby, what do you think of Travis Roberts?”
Declan continued staring off into space, his eyes completely vacant.
“I’ll let you do it in my butt, if you answer me.”
Still he gazed blankly, showing no signs of movement, except his rising and falling chest.
“Nope, he’s definitely not listening. Probably thinking about Travis Roberts, the big fa - "
Ding.
“Urgh…. Hazel, I have to go…”
The elevator door had opened and Randy Boolzian stood at the threshold. He took a step forward, before seeing the pair already in there and froze, as if completely at a loss on what to do.
“Umm, hi Randy,” Cara mumbled.
As if admitting defeat that his presence had been acknowledged, he nodded his head stiffly and entered the elevator. He instantly turned his back on the pair and began whistling the tune of ‘Let’s All Go To The Lobby’.
“So… what are you doing here?” she inquired, poking Declan in the shoulder, hoping to stir him.
“Just scoping out the potential deals,” BoolZ replied.
“Huh?”
“Well I get to choose any match I want at Horizons, you know?” he replied, pulling a can of Red Bull from his pocket and cracking it open. “Pillows, fluffy handcuffs and the boss’ wife could be good for ratings. Hate to think what the long term effects on my janglies would be, though.”
“Declan!”
“Hey yeah, what’s up with him?” BoolZ asked, cocking his head slightly backwards, so he could see the still mesmerised Declan. “He looks like a zombie or something. Not taking the news that Roberts is straight, too well? Or does he miss his sink that badly, because I’m gonna get onto fixing it right away, honest.”
“Sure you are, jerk,” she hissed. “Why don’t you just shut up?”
“Prescott was the one encouraging me to get the word out on the other wrestlers. Said I had to appeal to the people and spend every other minute trash talking my opponents, instead of just getting it done come match time. You know, like he and his really close friend Roberts do.”
“Oh give it a rest,” she spat, now growing incredibly irritated. “You don’t know anything. Declan doesn’t just talk about wrestling! We have terrific communication! Besides, he’ll show you ‘how to get it done come match time’ this Saturday! And I’ll be there to see it!”
“Well you’re quite the little firecracker, aren’t you?” he grinned, dropping the now empty can on the floor. “Maybe that’s zombie boy's secret weapon - you’re gonna try and get your saliva on Ghost and I. The herpes probably won't kick in early enough to help him and Roberts in the match though.”
“Hmph!”
“But you know,” he continued. “Usually when people get so defensive about something, it means they know it’s true.”
“You wish,” she mocked. “You’re probably just jealous that Declan’s taken, you stupid hom - ”
Ding.
Her words were cut short a second time, as the elevator again drew to a halt and the doors opened wide.
“Damn this thing is slow,” BoolZ began. “I could have taken the stairs and still - OH NO!!!”
Standing on the other side of the threshold was a thick framed, seven foot monster in a nurse’s outfit. She, assuming she was in fact female, had both hands on her hips and an inferno raged in her eyes, that would engulf the very fires of hell.
“How many times do I have to tell you, Mr. Boolzian?!” she roared. “That you haven’t been cleared to leave the hospital yet! Your injuries from Battleground haven’t healed up and we’re keeping you on watch until they do! No matter how many times you try to escape, that isn’t gonna change!!”
“Awww, come on!” BoolZ pleaded. “Really, I’m fine! You don’t have to do this, Vanessa! Really - ”
“YOU’RE COMING WITH ME!!!”
The overwhelming mountain of a woman clasped both her hands over BoolZ and dragged him like a fidgeting puppy from the elevator.
“PLEASE CARA!” he shouted, as the doors began to close. “TELL THE PEOPLE I REGRET NOTHI - ”
His words were cut short, as the doors closed shut. Cara grinned and bit playfully on her bottom lip, clearly very amused with what just transpired.
“What the heck?” Declan inquired, seemingly having returned to his senses. “Was that BoolZ? How’d he get from a hospital in New York to one in Los Angeles?”
“…”
