Scene One
For some people, buying into the hype that becomes part of any industry where something takes the scene by storm from no where, a prima donna of sorts. More often then not, the subjects of such focus are not deserving of their fifteen minutes of fame. According to the former champion, Tony Wright, I am one such pariah. However, let it be known that I have never sought nor encouraged such publicity. I am who I am, and I act the way I do because it is what I see to be the best. The newly renamed Kameron Chase was more then the misery which I put him out of at Open Season. The expedition however turned out to be incomplete, he is still alive. Shortly after, I believe I had accomplished my goal of cleansing GEW of a true piece of shit. Upon considering the situation, however, and hearing that he continued to recite his whine/bitch/moan/"Why me?" routine, I realized I should have finished the job. No matter, his time will come eventually.
Today would involve something that I would rarely delve into, working out. Now do not mistake my inactivity in this favorite past time of the overly muscled individuals he cannot bend to wipe their own ass for laziness. Over the years, I had noticed that my body has its own way of remaining well toned for my career. Muscle mass? That aspect of the human body was something blind to me, my in ring style prided itself upon flexibility and unpredictability. I relied upon my opponents to see me as vulnerable and expect me to be beaten and lure them into the trap to their defeat. This last week at Chaos against Tony Wright, however, my plan failed. Hence my reason for appearing here, it was time to increase the density of my muscles and increase strength.
The dumbbell suspended above me by my fleshy arms was moderately heavy, I did not want to overstress myself after so long of an exercise absentia. My chest heaved, expanded with an intake of oxygen to fill my lungs only to contract once again upon the gaseous release. My arms moved up and rested the bar into the nestling niche of metal to hold it in place. I sat up on the bench, grabbed the towel I had nearby and wiped the sweat from my forehead and top of my head. I then realized I was not alone, someone was standing in front of me. It was that annoying little shit Hugh O'Connell.
Xavier
Michaels
The fuck do
you want you red-headed stepchild?
Hugh O'Connell
Witty
as usual, just wanted to get some of your thoughts on your opponents for this
week's Chaos, Vampiro and 5-7-3.
Xavier
Michaels
Why is that I
always seem to get the weirdoes. I mean GEW is full of them. It's
either that or they're huge egomaniacs. That's beside the point, my take
on these two, GEW can be using me for a lot better matches with guys who hang
out in graveyards way too much. Get some sun guys and then think about
making camera appearances. Vampiro likes to fashion himself as this new
Dracula thing and the whole deal. My advice to him, stick to living out
his blood sucking fantasies through Anne Rice novels and crawl slowly back into
reality. Anything else?
Hugh O'Connell
Yeah,
one other thing. There's a rumor running around that your sister signed a
contract with GEW. Any tru--
I acted only on instinct, blind instinct. I reached up and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pushed him against the wall. His eyes widened with fear and looking around with shock for any kind of help. My voice had become distorted and hoarse with rage.
Xavier
Michaels
The fuck are
you talking about?! And so help me God if you lie to me.
He stuttered, stammering on his words. At this rate, it would take minutes just to say a few words.
Hugh O'Connell
You...
your si-si-sister. I heard she signed some of... deal. A
contract. I swear... th-that's all I know.
I hear a slight dripping sound close by, water hitting the floor? I looked down and saw a yellow liquid drip from him ankle to the floor, a moistened streak riding up his pant leg to a large blotch at his crotch. He smelled like fucking piss. I dropped him to the side, giving him a push, you could say I gave him a good throw into the Gatorade topped table to the side. This bullshit had better not be true or there will be Hell to pay.
Scene Two
Absolutely fucking not! No way in hell is my little sister going to make a life out of wrestling. She deserves better then this. So many possibilities, so much future and she wants to just throw it away for this. She is supposed to have a life free from worry and pain, away from the unsavory types that I have so hard fought to shield her from. Especially after the perverts of the promotion I work for have shown their true colors was I very hesitant to have her anywhere near this environment, but she insisted and would not be stopped.
I wanted her to see that it was nothing special, no big deal and not something to build a life upon. The only reason which I go on with this path is because I worked through the proving grounds, the trials and established myself to be a major name. She, however, could not go through such a thing, I would not allow it. She was the most precious being in my life. Pure, clean, untainted and this would bathe her in the sins of all those around her, contaminating what I have fought so hard to protect.
I pushed open the door of the house open, driven blindly by anger, not seeing anything my hate deemed inconsequential. I had to talk to her and drive some sense into her. Never in my life had I caused her any harm, and I did not intend to start now, but she had to be stopped before her decision led to disaster which I would be powerless to stop. Powerless? Me? I loathed the very idea of not being in control of something, but now that is something that can endanger the one which I love, it is unendurable.
Xavier
Michaels
Mel?! Where are you?!
Her voice sounded from upstairs, echoing to and fro against the sheetrock walls of the stairway. It sounded of its usual innocence, even naivety.
Melissa
Michaels
Up
here. And by the sound of your voice, we should talk.
Damn right we should and she was going to listen to me for once instead of coming back with some smart ass remark. I bounded up the carpeted covering of the stairs almost instantly, pushing open her bedroom door. She was standing by her dresser turning around when I grabbed her by the arm.
Melissa
Michaels
Hey, what the hell are you doing?!
Xavier
Michaels
I
should ask you the same thing. The fuck happened with college.
You're supposed to start next month and now I find out that you want to wrestle.
Melissa
Michaels
First,
get your hand off me. Second I'm putting college off for a year and doing
something different for a change.
Xavier
Michaels
Different?
Fucking A right this is different. Of all things you decide to do with
your life, you choose this.
Melissa
Michaels
I'm
fucking tired of school ok. It's all I been doing all my life and you will
respect that I need a break.
Xavier
Michaels
OK,
but why this? Why wrestling? You can do a hell of a lot better then
this. Go traveling or something I don't know but I can't let you do
this. All the fucking weirdoes running around in this company, perverts
that'll fuck anything with or without a pulse.
Melissa
Michaels
I'm
a grown woman now, I can take care of myself.
I cocked my head to the side, raising an eyebrow at the statement. I did not mean to mock her, it was not intentional but she took it that way still. My face stung, the pain flowed across my face from the force of the slap. The physical pain of the strike was nothing, however, compared to the look on her face. Hurt, the one thing I swore I would never cause her.
Melissa
Michaels
Get out! Get the fuck
out!
She shoved her palms against my shoulder, hardly feeling the force. The whole thing seemed surreal. Everything felt like it was in slow motion, my stomach rising up into my throat. She kept pushing, turning me and shoving me through the doorway and slamming it. The sound of her feet running across the floor and the impact on the mattress of her bed. Now, my failure is complete.
Scene Three
June 20, 2004
The past couple days had been a nightmare. No one had any idea where she was or what had happened to her. The first day had been one of expectation, anticipating that she would walk in the door after what hopefully had been a night of partying gone too far yet remaining unharmed. Yes, she would be on the receiving end of one hell of a lecture and endure some form of light punishment but that would be the worst of it. However, the best possible scenario that had been hoped for did not materialize into form. The only response my mother and I had was the ticking of the large clock that sat in the corner, signaling the passing of time.
I wanted to go home, sleep in my own house, my own bed, but I knew I could not leave her here by herself with the dread. Melissa was the only one there with her now, and having that ripped away from her so painfully and abruptly would kill her in the end, if not physically, emotionally. The night had been one of the most sleepless that I had ever lived. No matter how tired I was, how much I wished for the relief of the inky blackness that was followed by the illusions created by the resting mind.
After waking, I immediately rushed to her room, swinging open her door expecting to see her sleeping soundly in the bed. Sneaking in during the middle of the night to avoid the confrontation resulting from letting us worry for her so. What I saw, however, was an empty bed, the comforter pulled tightly against it as it was before. Something was wrong, and it was not her fault nor of her own design. How could I have been so fucking stupid to allow her to go there?
No effort was to be spared now, no resource left untapped in order to find her. The alert that had been broadcast on the local news station along with her picture asking for anyone with any information as to her whereabouts to please contact local authorities helped. Radio stations through the area described her when I last saw her on that night and her last known location. After answering the questions posed to me by the police, the rest of my day had been spent with a search team that had been assembled and combed through an area forest and adjoining field searching for signs of her presence but found nothing.
The search party went to their homes after sunset, but I just could not give up yet. It would be fruitless to stop looking and I refused to give up. It was not a question of possibility, but of will. I could stop, but I would not. I bordered on the point of exhaustion by sunrise, if it were not the phone call on my cell, I would have succumbed.
She was found, alive but it seems my worst nightmare had come true. A sanitation worker found her in a run down building on the beach front while on his routine clean up route, laying on the ground heavily bound and gagged with duct tape. She was far too shaken, almost hysterical, to answer any of his questions. She only insisted that she be taken home, refusing to go to the hospital.
Police cars were already outside the house by the time I had gotten there. Two uniforms stood outside the front door and stopped me before they realized who I was. I was in no mood for this shit. Where was she? The question was redundant, but rational thought had abandoned me at the moment. I followed the indistinct sound of the radio chatter from the police band radios up the stairs to their main focus point, the open bedroom door to the left. Her bedroom.
Inside, my mother sat on the other side of the bed next to Melissa, laying down, her face buried into a pillow. An sobbing sound escaped the fabric barrier. A female detective stood in front of me and the bed. She was no kind of considerable obstruction. I pushed my way past her and sat down at the foot of the bed by her. I laid my hand down on her leg, trying to reassure her that I was here with her. I doubt she wanted such attention, just to be alone with her pain. I just could not do that though and knew it was not possible.
Xavier
Michaels
Mel?
The sobbing accelerated, her back seemed to heave back and forth with huge gasps of pained breath. Her face broke from the pillow and turned to the right, pulling her brown hair away from her face and behind her ear and looking at me from the corner of her eye. The pain on her face was more then I could possibly bare, let alone what she must have been feeling. Her skin gleamed with the reflection of the smeared tears. She quickly sat up and wrapped her arms around me, crushing her body against mine and substituting the now tear-soaked pillow with my shoulder. I enveloped her with my arms, holding her and trying to bring some form of comfort as she continued the hysterical crying. She was trying to talk, only the occasionally word escaping the sobs.
Melissa
Michaels
I'm... sor-- sorry.
My hand rested against her head, my mouth against her ear allowing my whisper to go unheard except by her.
Xavier
Michaels
Don't worry about me. Who
did this?
Detective Kyrk
Mr. Michaels, I'm Detective
Kyrk with Neptune Township's sex crimes unit. I'm here to take Melissa to
the medical examiner to take fluid samples.
Melissa
Michaels
Ryan, it was Ryan.
Fucking bastard.
Xavier
Michaels
Shh, not so loud. You
should go with her, get this taken care of. Don't worry, I'll handle
him. I love you.
Our bodies parted, she wiped the tears from her eyes and nodding her head. She stood up from the bed and walked to the doorway with the detective, my mother close behind with a hand on her shoulder. This kid is going to pay for what he did to her.
Scene
FourJune 21, 2004
Smoke filled the air of the center room, tobacco fumes puffed from the scattering yet prevalent patronage. The occasional homeless man came in to ask for spare change from the various persons, all eventually pissing off the powers that be here and shown the outside environment all to harshly. The clear liquid sat in the small glass sat still in front of me, my fifth one so far. If I was going to wait this long, I might as well have a few drinks. Besides, it's said that drunkenness brings courage. Foolish courage, but courage nonetheless and right now I would take anything that would help me do what my anger directed.
Quietly, while I finished off what was left in the glass, my friend had returned to slip in beside me. He looked around for a moment before taking a manila colored envelope from his inside coat pocket.
Unknown
Man
Serial
number's been taken care of, just make sure to jam a screwdriver down the barrel
after it's done.
He slipped the envelope underneath the bar counter to me and into my waiting hand. I did not bother check it, and just put it away in my jacket pocket.
Xavier
Michaels
Don't
worry, no one will ever see this again when I'm done. Thanks a lot, I
appreciate this.
Unknown
Man
Don't
mention it. After what that fuck did to your sister, he has it coming.
He slid off the stool and left me just as quietly as he had come, leaving me to finish my drink and thoughts, stewing in my rage against Melissa's violation. The medical examiner at Jersey Shore Medical Center took all the DNA swabs, did all the procedural exams and confirmed that she was raped repeatedly. She had suffered enough over the past few days, and yet she still had endure all the prodding and questions. She did not want to relive the ordeal and who could blame her? They thought she was hiding something but I understood, she just wanted to be left alone so I did not bother her with it anymore. She told me who it was and that was all that I needed. I would give her closure, be her avenger, not her inquisitor and calling her credibility into question.
She had not yet told them anything that would lead this to this Ryan kid and that was exactly how I wanted it. No one would come asking any questions when he went missing. To them, I would have no motive for wanting him to disappear.