| The Masochist; Battlelines vs Calder | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 10 2016, 04:18 PM (39 Views) | |
| Mirage | May 10 2016, 04:18 PM Post #1 |
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“You’ve done your bit for this family.” Her words had stuck with him for days. Words with bite. At first, it was easy to swallow...he was happy she had arrived safely and the things she said alleviated his concerns about her would be wrestling career. But those words. Those fucking words. “I’m only forty”, he mumbled to himself. Unable to grasp the concept of aging out at what he considered to be a relatively young age. He rationalized by looking through the EWA roster. There are plenty of stars that are forty years old...X-Calibur to name one. But the way she said it, just...felt like an old dog being told his time had come. Go out back and lay in the pasture...wait for the end. You’re officially useless. He rotated his shoulder and massaged it for a moment, still feeling the pain from a match that ended weeks ago. Despite feeling the bite from those words, he couldn’t help but feel she was right. He had a lot of wear and tear on his body from the years of bumping around the in ring, and maybe a future where he could still walk was more important. Everytime you go out there, you leave a piece of your career in the ring. Permanently. An old adage all experienced wrestlers understood. Something he knew all too well. He shook his head. He knew this was a lose/lose situation. If he didn’t continue to support her after that conversation they had, she’d wonder why? What would it look like now? Anyway...he wondered how she was doing on her own? Was she lonely? Was she doing her homework for her upcoming match against Indrid Calder? He had so many questions...questions he’s sure she had for him at one time. Questions he never bothered answering because life on the road was tough enough without being pestered… But, overall...it seemed she was doing fine from someone that lacked experience. She fared better against Kilminster than he had expected...thankfully. At first, he thought Ozzy was going to punish her just for the sake of punishment...and the way it looked from the match highlights, that may have been his original intent, but then he decided to test her...probably impressed with the amount of damage she could soak. It may have been lost on some, but Mirage took note. Osbourne Kilminster couldn’t get her to tap out...and that’s saying something. Now, he did put her down with the Exclamation Point...but...baby steps. He laughed, thinking about it. All the questions he had, knowing she didn't have the time to get distracted. Watching his phone for messages, or maybe a Facetime call…the minutes felt like hours. Here he was, sitting around housesitting in Chicago while she was off in Boston for an EWA show. He never saw this coming. ”I suppose I know how it feels now…" He had never really considered it before. It was always him on the road...doing God knows what. He ran his hand through his hair, finally understanding the life on the other side of wrestling marriage. Who was she with? What was she doing? ![]() “Aww, and here I was expecting you to drink blood from a bedazzled golden chalice and sit upon a throne made of the bones of your victims...” Sahara stood on a nondescript balcony overlooking the Boston harbor beneath a crescent moon with a slight smile on her face. Her subtle movements were practiced, deliberate. It was a near-perfect spring night. Her face, still half bruised from her recent run in with Osbourne Kilminster highlighted her sapphire eyes. ”I’ve been around long enough to know what’s what, Mr. Calder. You need not play cat and mouse games with me. I’ve had the pleasure of silently observing you in the off chance you’d ever face my husband...but thank my lucky stars -- as fate would have it -- ‘tis I that gets to face you. In all your costumed glory. And while your antics may strike fear into the hearts of the meek, I’m anything but. That being said, allow me to be perfectly clear in my intent. I may not have the skill to pose a threat to you -- yet -- but I sure as hell have the heart it’ll take to put you down one day…until then, I’ll consider this an experience.” “Perhaps we can call it the Calder Experience just for trademark purposes...sell us some shirts? Perhaps we can get Azrael to market them for us. I’m sure they’d … sell.” She laughed playfully. “You stoke the fires of fear, but you cannot frighten the fearless. Though I must admit, it takes a special touch to pull this off as well as you have...I want to know the man beneath that shadowy image. The dark heart that beats within...so what is it? Why the disconnect? Is it real? Is it a figment of your imagination? Is it a figment of ours? What is it about you that makes a warrior's skin crawl? Usually, these theatrics are paper thin, and become translucent like the wrapping of a greasy Philly Cheese, but you, Calder? You’re a special kind of creep.” “MY kind of creep.” “When I close my eyes, I can see that tree from your entrance video...you know, the one that comes up on the tron? I watch that tree live and die every time you emerge from gorilla...I see it’s beauty wither and die. I see it.” “I see me.” “We all wither and die on the vine of life...slowly if we’re lucky enough. But a man like you deserves far less than a slow, ordinary death.” “That willow tree in the barren field...know this, Calder. It may not be this week at Battlelines, or next...but one day you’ll hang from it. And that, we shall call the Sahara Experience. Close your eyes and visualize it in all it’s beauty. I can see you gently swaying in the sweltering summer breeze as the vultures circle above...waiting for your pallid flesh to rot so they can feed on whatever's left of your soulless void. And the rope...the rope attached to your neck, Dear Calder...that’ll belong to me.” “This Sahara will become anything but a harmless Mirage...in time.” She sighs, thinking of her husband. “It's been sad watching him slowly lose his will over these past few years. But for those of us who truly know him, we know it’s gone. I tried to find it for him...but I fear the last of it’s locked away in cold, dark place he refuses to go. Out of fear. Probably for the best...” Her voice trails off with a tinge of sadness within. “With each passing day, I grow stronger...better. With each passing day I learn...more.” She took a deep breath, soaking in the putrid scent of the Boston harbor. “You’re smarter than most, Mr. Calder. More cunning. And even more deviant. And that’s why I need you. I need you to bring me the pain...teach me all you know out there...do exactly as you promised. Explore every hill and valley of the Sahara...and like the sand baking in the sun, I’ll suck up the knowledge...and grow. It’s merely dawn for me...and I’ve yet to get hot...so bathe me in your pain. Beat me like the sun relentlessly baking the desert sand…” She stopped a moment, searching her thoughts. “The first night I found I was facing you, I couldn’t sleep...imagining all I could learn from just a few minutes in the ring with you. I salivate at the thought. I know...sick like me...but I was told at a young age that I was a masochist. It wasn’t until I found myself taking bumps that I knew it wasn’t some made up psychobabble. What can I say? I enjoy the pain...and my god, Mr. Calder...I’ve MISSED the pain. If I close my eyes, I can see your face shrouded in shadow, whispering my name.” “Sahara…" “Sahara..." She shivered at the beautiful thought. ”Mold me. Shape me. Own me.” She sucked air through her teeth, slowly running her perfectly manicured hand across the railing imagining his painful touch. “I didn’t have the privilege of learning to swim with the guppies before Gates threw me in with the sharks. I’ll take my hits...and keep coming for more. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my husband over the years, it’s not how often you win...it’s when...” “It’s not my turn to win yet.” “It’s my turn to learn.” “So teach me, dear Stranger…” “Teach me.” |
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10:52 AM Jul 11