Disenchanted
Prologue
Author's Note: I don't usually write this dark, but I decided to do something different for NaNoWrimo. It will be fun to try this out. I don't own the wrestlers. The title is based off of the song "Disenchanted", and most of the chapters will be lyrics from it. If not, they will probably be from the other song this story was based from, so, I'll be sure to note if the song changes. I don't own the song, either.
The room was dark, illuminated by only the glow of the television. He moved across the room, dizzied by the unnatural light. He moved toward the dresser in the corner of the room, fumbling around for a small notepad. He picked it up along with a black ink pen and set it on top of the television.
His hand was shaky, and it was hard to see. He scribbled something down quickly, dropping the pen next to the set. His mind raced.
This had to be done. That's what he kept telling himself, he had to do it. There was no other way.
He stumbled back to the dresser, feeling around for the drawer. He found the handle and pulled it out, reaching around inside. His hand touched something cold, metal. He shivered, bringing it out of the drawer.
He felt the familiar shape, running his hand along the object and finding the grip of it. He moved his thumb gently up the back, cocking it and aiming at the television before firing. The screen shattered into sweet, beautiful shards.
He pulled the object closer to him and took a deep breath. This was it. This was what he had to do. He opened his mouth just a bit, tasting the cold air. He set the barrel to the roof of his mouth. It burned and he shut his eyes tight.
I can't.
He gripped it tighter.
I have to.
He cocked the gun.
I'm sorry.
His finger moved to the trigger. One last breath.
There's no turning back.
This is it.
He pulled down hard.
