Rewrite of the original.
Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or the wrestlers in this story. I own only the oc. This story is fiction and to be taken that way. No copyright infringement intended.
Happy Halloween
It happened in a millisecond. A movement in the galaxies that should have taken eons occurred in the blinking of an eye. At the Cape Holden observatory a young astronomer sat stunned, reaching an instant too late to activate the camera that might have reordered it: the splintering of three constellations that produced the dark, glowing star. From Capricorn, Cancer, and Leo pieces had suddenly flown, finding each other with magnetic certainty, melding into a pulsating galactic ember. It grew brighter now and the constellation shuddered—or was it trembling hands on the eyepiece as the astronomer struggled to stifle his confused cry?
He feared he was alone with it, but in fact he was not. For from the very bowels of the earth there came a distant sound. It was the sound of voices; human, yet not, growing in devout cacophony with the heightening potency of the star. In caves, basements, and open fields they had gathered; midwives to the birth, some twenty thousand strong. With hands joined and heads bowed, their voices rose until the vibration could be heard and felt everywhere. It was the sound of the OHM, ringing upward to the heavens and inward to the pre-biblical core of the earth.
It was the sixth month, the sixth day, the sixth hour. The precise moment predicted by the Old Testament when earth history would change. The wars, the turmoil of recent centuries had been mere rehearsals, a testing of the climate to determine when mankind would be ready to be led. Students of the Bible had seen it too, the falling into place of biblical symbols that heralded the event that was now at hand. In the form of the Common Market, the Holy Roman Empire had risen, and with the statehood of Israel the Jews had returned to the Promised Land. This, coupled with worldwide famine and the disintegration of international economic structure, demonstrated more than a mere coincidence of events. Clearly it was a conspiracy of events. The Book of Revelations had predicted it all.
As, high in the sky, the black star grew brighter, the chant grew louder, and the basalt center of the planet reverberated with its power. Within the hollowed-out ruins of the ancient city of Meggido, Mark Callaway could feel it, and wept; his scrolls and tablets useless now. And above him on the desert floor outside of Israel the night shift of archaeological students paused in their work, their dirt-sifters falling silent as the ground beneath them began to tremble.
In his first class seat aboard the 747 bound from Washington to Rome, Roman Reigns felt it too and routinely fastened his seat belt, preoccupied with what awaited him below. Even if he had known the reason for the sudden turbulence, it would have been too late. For at that moment, in the basement of the Ospedale Generale in Rome, a stone crushed the head of the child that was meant to be his.
He sat in his seat thinking about the phone call he'd received in Washington. It was now twelve hours old and by now whatever had happened was over. He would find Alison fulfilled at last, in a hospital bed nursing their newborn child or in a state of hopeless despair at having lost it once again. Unlike the other two pregnancies that had ended after just a few months, this one had gone all the way to eight. And if this time something went wrong, he knew that Alison would be lost.
They had been together since they were twenty and even then her instability was plain. The haunted eyes, begging for someone to protect her; the role of protector suiting his needs as well, it was this that formed the very core of their relationship. She had sought help after a cutting incident; a psychiatrist who merely sat in bland silence. She quit him after a month, deciding that all she needed was a child.
Alison got pregnant immediately and the three months of that first pregnancy were the best they had ever known. Alison looked and felt beautiful and even traveled to the Far East at her husband's side. The pregnancy ended in the lavatory of an airplane, blue water washing away her hope as she cried.
The second pregnancy took a year to accomplish and for five and a half month hope again bloomed. This time the pains began in a supermarket and Alison doggedly continued her shopping, trying to deny it until it could be denied no longer. It was a blessing, they said, because the fetus was impaired, but this only furthered her despair and she slipped into a depression that took six months to relieve. It was the third time now and Roman knew it was the last. If something went wrong this time, it would be the end of her sanity.
The plane landed and Roman was taken quickly through customs into a waiting car. It was the nicest part of coming back to Rome, for here he was something of a celebrity. As the assistant to the President's economic advisor, he was also the assistant to the chairman of the World Economy Conference which had been moved from Zurich to Rome. His godfather was the President of the United States. Roman's family had been very rich. His grandfather had made tons during the war. The estimate of Roman's personal wealth was close to five hundred million dollars but it was unverifiable and in truth Roman, himself, did not know. To account would have meant to pause and Roman Reigns was in constant motion.
He looked out at Rome as he made his way to the hospital. He texted Hunter from Washington and told him that Allie had gone into labor and he was on his way home to Rome. Hunter said okay and he would see him when he got there. Hunter was his boss and the chairman of the World Economy Conference.
Roman had no idea what awaited him in Rome. He only hoped Allie was okay.