TORTURE GARDEN
PROLOGUE
This is the sequel to REVELATIONS 6-8. If you haven't read the story, it would be best to check it out first but if you don't feel like it, here is a short summary:
The four horsemen of the apocalypse are about to walk the earth and prepare the ground for the coming of the antichrist. Mark Callaway (Undertaker), his brother Glen Jacobs (Kane), John Cena and Dave Batista are the four men chosen by fate to fight against the four riders. According to the Bible, the four horsemen (white, red, black and pale) will break the seals and bring the end of the world. Jeff Hardy is chosen by 'the one that follows the pale rider' (that means Hell) and gets corrupted before the others get to him in time. They take him along against the four riders. They try to exorcise any demons by the performing the Banishing Ritual but it fails due to some detail. All the while, a strange bond is formed between Jeff and Dave, one that lay dormant all the years and would have never been woken up if it hadn't been for their adventure. They come close but never fulfil their dreams and destiny because they don't have time. They venture into the fight but just before the start, Hell takes over Jeff and he betrays them. The four friends get separated and they fight alone. John defeats the white rider, Glen defeats the red rider but the black one doesn't fight Mark (who was raised as a child to fight demons). Instead, the black rider makes a deal with Hell and the pale rider and they make Dave and Jeff fight each other. At first Dave resists and Hell (through Jeff) tries to seduce him but then he fights back. Mark arrives in time before Dave kills Jeff and manages to exorcise Hell out of him by using an old pendant. But the procedure is too painful for Jeff's mind and he ends up in a Psychiatric Hospital.
This story picks up after Jeff is committed…
If, during the story, elements of the first part come up, they will be explained in the same chapter.
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This is a wrestling fanfiction. Names and characters belong to themselves and the WWE.
This is a violent (murder, rape) and (later on) slash fanfiction (that means male on male sexual scenes). If you don't like them, please don't read. If this is your first, then read and judge by yourselves.
This story has nothing to do with Octave Mirbeau's 1899 novel or Freddie Francis' 1967 movie.
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Now… Like I have said before…
Get comfortable…
Turn off the lights…
Close the door behind you…
Did you lock it?
Are you sure?
Let's begin our descent.
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Welcome to
where time stands still
No one leaves and no one will
Moon is
full, never seems to change
Just labelled mentally deranged
Dream the same thing every night
I see our freedom in my
sight
No locked doors, no windows barred
No things to make my
brain seem scarred
Sleep, my friend, and you will see
That
dream is my reality
They keep me locked up in this cage
Can't
they see it's why my brain says "rage"
Sanitarium, leave
me be
Sanitarium, just leave me alone
Build my fear of
what's out there
Cannot breathe the open air
Whisper things
into my brain
Assuring me that I'm insane
They think our
heads are in their hands
But violent use brings violent plans
Keep him tied, it makes him well
He's getting better, can't
you tell?
No more can they keep us in
Listen, damn it, we
will win
They see it right, they see it well
But they think
this saves us from our hell
Sanitarium, leave me
be
Sanitarium, just leave me alone
Sanitarium
Just leave me alone
Fear of living on
Natives getting restless
now
Mutiny in the air
Got some death to do
Mirror stares
back hard
kill is such a friendly word
seems the only way
for
reaching out again
(Lyrics taken from Metallica's Sanitarium)
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Time had ceased to exist and brain did not register images… not anymore… not now…
Days turned to nights and nights turned to days over and over again but his mind wouldn't register that passage of time.
His body was laying on the bed and his face was looking the ceiling. He was feeling cold but he didn't do anything.
His eyes rarely blinked these days and they had lost their clear and bright colour, like a blurry veil had fallen upon them, hiding the world from him and him from the world.
His face was blank, empty… emotionless… and it only made him look younger.
And innocent.
People used to pass to see him, like some sort of caged animal. Some entered his room and did things to him. He still couldn't feel them and he still couldn't see them…
For him they did not exist. The pain the needles and their prodding did sometimes brought tears in his eyes… but he never looked at them and he never acknowledged their presence. Many had stopped visiting him. Some still came regularly.
His father was one of the few that came to see him every day.
Like the nurses and the doctors.
Once a nurse had asked his father how he was doing. He had just looked at her and sadly answered her
"Every time I see my son, every day that passes and I have to see him like that, I die a little"
He then had dragged his tired footsteps to the hated room of his son for his daily half hour visit.
And that was all the time he had each day to see his beautiful boy… all the time it took him to die a little… for his heart to shatter into a million pieces.
Few were the times he had witnessed one of his violent outbreaks but those few times, he had almost died. Seeing his precious son's eyes become crazed and frightened, his body jerk and twist, seeing him cry in pain and fear, scream and hurt himself, all that had pushed him to the edge to the point of him needing medical care.
It had been a hard road to take for the old man but he had not faltered and he had not for once stopped no matter how much it cost him.
Every day, at the same time, the hospital staff could see him slowly make his way to the room, close the door behind him and sit down next to his son. Each day he would take his hand into his own and caress his face. He would always have a book with him and he would read it to him like he had done when he'd been just a small child.
Each day there were tears…
Each day, his son would show no signs of improvement…
No signs of recognising him.
And each day he seemed to be drifting farther and farther away from his father.
But it didn't matter to him. When he had lost his wife many years ago, his sons were all he had left of her in this world and everything he had done, he had done for them. Now it was no different. He had left his home in North Carolina and moved to that remote town just to be near his son.
When the time was approaching to be separated from his son, he would always dry his tears, kiss his forehead and then kiss his son's hands, hating the awful restraints around his wrists… the ones that had left so many marks, red raw lines and cuts from all the times he had pulled them trying to get free or hurt himself. Just before closing the door behind him he would always hate himself for leaving him alone in this room, in this darkness. He would look into his eyes praying that someday they would look back and smile.
"I love you son" he would always say before leaving… before going back to the apartment he rented and break down in endless sobbing.
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Matt Hardy had a hole his heart. Ever since the day he had laid eyes upon his brother, he had lost half of himself. It had been hard telling his father but it had been harder taking him to see his son. He had been there when the old man had broken down for the first time and he was thankful that Jeff was sedated. He knew that his father wouldn't bear to see him having a crisis like he had witnessed.
He had understood his need to be near Jeff and he loved him for wanting to be there but he couldn't do the same thing. He really wanted to be there for his family but he couldn't just give up his life, move to that town and forget he ever had a life.
Jeff wouldn't want him to…
So instead he left.
He went to see him one last time with his father. He approached the bed and sat next to him. He placed his palm on top of his brother's chest feeling his heartbeats and respiration.
It was the hardest thing he ever had to do in his life.
"Hi little brother… how are you today? Listen…" he said awkwardly and removed his hand, placing it on Jeff's limp hand. He remained silent for a while, just him looking at his brother, talking to him as if he were awake. He smiled for a moment bitterly but then reality set in and the smile faded. He had visited him many times during the last few months and each time it was getting harder and harder to see him like this. It wasn't until few weeks ago that he knew what he had to do… only he didn't want to do it.
"This… is the last time I'm coming here… I'm… sorry to leave you Jeff… I can't stand… to see you… like that…" he started to cry feeling so guilty for leaving him behind. "I am not as strong as… as dad is and… I… I just cannot see you waste away… and… I hate myself for it. I have to do this little brother, for me… for my own sanity… if I stay here with you, I'm afraid I'll start loosing it… I wish I knew how to help you but I cannot when I don't even know what happened to you… what happened little brother? I was supposed to be looking out for you… how could you go away without me?" he buried his face in the bedcovers and let himself weep. "Please come back to us… you have to fight… win this, like you always do… you win and come back stronger… please Jeff…"
But nothing happened. Jeff still remained still in his bed with pupils dilated from heavy medication and his mouth half open. His hair had grown longer and the dye had faded a long time ago leaving them in their natural blond colour.
"What am I supposed to do without you?"
He looked at him, tears blurring his vision. He hated himself for leaving and knew he wouldn't be able to sleep any more. But he needed to go. He could feel his own self and sanity slowly but steadily dripping away. He got up from the chair next to the bed and washed away his tears. The first step away from the bed felt like a knife in the heart and for a moment he actually felt pain.
The second step brought new tears he was barely able to restraint. He didn't want to let go of his brother's hand.
A third step was all it took to break their contact.
Turning his back felt like committing murder.
"I love you Jeff. I hope you can forgive me someday…" he whispered and left.
The sound of the door he closed behind him would echo in his worse nightmares for ever.
He found his father sitting outside patiently. He looked at him guiltily and the old man approached him. He hugged his old son tightly and Matt broke down in violent sobs.
Father and son stayed like that, holding each other, drawing force one from the other.
"I'm sorry dad"
"It's ok… your brother would understand…"
"Will you ever forgive me?"
"Matt…" he broke their embrace and took his son's face in his old strong hands. "You must do what you think is best for you… and like Jeff, I want what is best for you… I don't forgive you because there is nothing to forgive… I love you son… Jeff loves you too… never forget that…"
Matt looked at his father and sadly nodded. He wiped his face from the tears and uneasily stepped back.
"I… I have to go…"
His father nodded his head and let him go.
"Please call me when you get home" he told his son.
Matt was back- stepping away.
"I love you dad… I love Jeff too… will you tell him that?"
"Every day my boy… every day"
Matt left the hospital just as the sun was about to set. Winter had come early and the temperature had dropped during the last few weeks. The days had become shorter and night came too early for his liking. He knew that Jeff liked the night. He had told him once that he did his best art work after midnight. He smiled at the memory of Jeff painting, of them filming with Shannon the Hardy Show, he remembered Itchweed, Jeff's funny alter ego, all the times they had been together in the ring, winning or loosing titles and championships and all the dangerous dives he had taken from insanely high places.
This was how he chose to remember his brother and that was who he really was… not that broken man inside that building. That was not the brother he knew and not the one he wished to carry with him in his memories.
Matt Hardy looked at the hospital from his car as the sun was setting. The sun gave the sky a beautiful unique red- orange colour. The only thing that bothered him was those nasty dark clouds nearing from the distance. A storm was ragging somewhere near. Lighting was falling and thunders echoed like drums of war.
'The storm is approaching' he thought as he started the engine. Jeff liked to run and dance in the rain. He smiled to himself. He started the engine and drove off.
'See you brother… I love you… don't forget me' his mind told his brother as his car passed the front gates.
