A/N- as pointed out in my last chapter this story was based on my muse but
only because he is my muse and if it wasn't based on him it could be based
on any of them.
Disclaimer - I don't own any of the characters mentioned in my story and the opening passage is from The Becoming part two (Buffy)
"The big moments are gonna come, can't help that. It's what you do afterward that counts. That's when you find out who you are"
Was this my big moment? Does my whole future now rest on this decision.
I pace the long dark halls angrily, my footsteps echo way ahead of me and enter the darkened arena before I do but they get lost in the darkness.
Yeah the darkness.
It consumes everything and makes it his own. You see darkness isn't jut a thing, its a person! I used to think I knew that person but now I know I don't! If I did he wouldn't have done this to me. Wouldn't have stolen the most important thing in my life away.
The most important thing, it is my life!
The squared circle stands ahead of me, mocking me. I know that if I was caught in another battle within it…but I will never have another battle in it, no more fighting for me. This thought angers me as I slide down the ramp a look of intense sadness on my face. I'm supposed to be tough but how can I be?
'When I'm stressed I take it all out on a punch bag!
Really? I pump iron for a bit!'
I remember this conversation between Dwayne and Paul. During it I kept quiet, hoping that they wouldn't ask me (not that the two most self- obsessed members of the fed would show any interest in others) They never did so I had no need to tell them that my relaxation came from sitting in an abandoned arena when everyone had left. I feel a strange comfort from the deep, dark shadows that encase the empty space. They hide me from the world.
With much practised ease I disappear into the shadows, we merge and become one. This is a place for reflecting and reflect I shall. From where I'm stood, at the top of the bottom section of seating, with quite away between me and the lit ringside, I can see the whole ring and the seats that surround it. The ring has a light covering of rubbish, popcorn tubs, burger wrappers and drink cartons. The only mark left by the crowd, a reminder of their discontent. Not that I can blame them I'd felt like throwing a myself in the ring let alone a empty food container.
I suddenly feel the need to be there, to touch the debris in the ring and to feel the cool plastic of the ropes, so I start down the stairs and into the ring. For a man my size the guard-rail provides no problem and I deftly climb it. I feel an unusual need to be in the ring and I leap onto the apron, ignoring the pain it causes me. As I begin to step over the ropes I feel a miraculous calm descend in both my mind and my body. I've made it!
The only thing I hear, as I stand still leaning against the ropes, is the slow pumping, beating rhythm of my heart. I find this sound strangely comforting, its proof that I'm alive because I feel dead inside. I leave the ropes and walk to the corner that would be straight ahead of JR on his left, had he been at the announce position. I ascend the turnbuckle and sit on the top. I stare blankly ahead as I try to come to terms with myself and the days announcement.
I'm supposed to be a tough guy, but as I consider my fate I feel the warm, dampness of a tear sliding down my cheek. I brush it aside with a be-gloved hand before raising my eyeline so I stare straight into the ring, my home. As I realise what has happened and the numbness is gone, I am overcome by grief and my body is overcome by sobs, loud uncontrollable echo's of pain and I feel my last ounce of self control dissipate. With one swift movement I leave the turnbuckle, landing lightly on the mat.
I began to pace the ring, a futile attempt to regain my composure. I sigh and lose myself in memories, replaying my past as I live it again, my most glorious victory. I straighten my shoulders as I stand triumphant, but as the realisation that there will be no more I snap, I sigh and all the air of my body leaves and my shoulder slumps.
I turn and leave the ring, walking up the ramp without looking behind once. At the top of the ramp I pause and turn to face the ring, surveying the whole deserted space, feeling my strength drain away. As I become lost in memory's I relive my past. I am no-longer alone, as the arena comes alive. The crowd go silent as my entrance begins, and a ghost of myself appears behind me. I move to let the spectre past and he ignores me never taking his eyes from off the massive structure in front of him, a structure so imposing that it makes my phantom shudder as he shakes it, proving to himself its there. I jump at the sound of my opponents entrance and move to let him past. He is too interested in my doppelganger to care about the structure in which are battle will take place. I watch the illusionary match play out in front of me, though I know who will emerge victorious. Sure enough it is my ghost who gets his hand raised victorious. I raise my hand in a salute of victory, as my spectre turns to face me. However as we make eye contact the vision begins to fade. The steel shape disappears as do the phantom wrestlers. As the hallucination ends I feel content, knowing that this emotive incident has shown me the way forward. I become aware of the tears moistening my cheeks rub them away. I turn, exiting the arena without another glance. Somehow I know that behind me the arena is dark, and the little light that was there is gone. As I walk down the corridor my footsteps echo ahead of me, exiting the building before me.
Disclaimer - I don't own any of the characters mentioned in my story and the opening passage is from The Becoming part two (Buffy)
"The big moments are gonna come, can't help that. It's what you do afterward that counts. That's when you find out who you are"
Was this my big moment? Does my whole future now rest on this decision.
I pace the long dark halls angrily, my footsteps echo way ahead of me and enter the darkened arena before I do but they get lost in the darkness.
Yeah the darkness.
It consumes everything and makes it his own. You see darkness isn't jut a thing, its a person! I used to think I knew that person but now I know I don't! If I did he wouldn't have done this to me. Wouldn't have stolen the most important thing in my life away.
The most important thing, it is my life!
The squared circle stands ahead of me, mocking me. I know that if I was caught in another battle within it…but I will never have another battle in it, no more fighting for me. This thought angers me as I slide down the ramp a look of intense sadness on my face. I'm supposed to be tough but how can I be?
'When I'm stressed I take it all out on a punch bag!
Really? I pump iron for a bit!'
I remember this conversation between Dwayne and Paul. During it I kept quiet, hoping that they wouldn't ask me (not that the two most self- obsessed members of the fed would show any interest in others) They never did so I had no need to tell them that my relaxation came from sitting in an abandoned arena when everyone had left. I feel a strange comfort from the deep, dark shadows that encase the empty space. They hide me from the world.
With much practised ease I disappear into the shadows, we merge and become one. This is a place for reflecting and reflect I shall. From where I'm stood, at the top of the bottom section of seating, with quite away between me and the lit ringside, I can see the whole ring and the seats that surround it. The ring has a light covering of rubbish, popcorn tubs, burger wrappers and drink cartons. The only mark left by the crowd, a reminder of their discontent. Not that I can blame them I'd felt like throwing a myself in the ring let alone a empty food container.
I suddenly feel the need to be there, to touch the debris in the ring and to feel the cool plastic of the ropes, so I start down the stairs and into the ring. For a man my size the guard-rail provides no problem and I deftly climb it. I feel an unusual need to be in the ring and I leap onto the apron, ignoring the pain it causes me. As I begin to step over the ropes I feel a miraculous calm descend in both my mind and my body. I've made it!
The only thing I hear, as I stand still leaning against the ropes, is the slow pumping, beating rhythm of my heart. I find this sound strangely comforting, its proof that I'm alive because I feel dead inside. I leave the ropes and walk to the corner that would be straight ahead of JR on his left, had he been at the announce position. I ascend the turnbuckle and sit on the top. I stare blankly ahead as I try to come to terms with myself and the days announcement.
I'm supposed to be a tough guy, but as I consider my fate I feel the warm, dampness of a tear sliding down my cheek. I brush it aside with a be-gloved hand before raising my eyeline so I stare straight into the ring, my home. As I realise what has happened and the numbness is gone, I am overcome by grief and my body is overcome by sobs, loud uncontrollable echo's of pain and I feel my last ounce of self control dissipate. With one swift movement I leave the turnbuckle, landing lightly on the mat.
I began to pace the ring, a futile attempt to regain my composure. I sigh and lose myself in memories, replaying my past as I live it again, my most glorious victory. I straighten my shoulders as I stand triumphant, but as the realisation that there will be no more I snap, I sigh and all the air of my body leaves and my shoulder slumps.
I turn and leave the ring, walking up the ramp without looking behind once. At the top of the ramp I pause and turn to face the ring, surveying the whole deserted space, feeling my strength drain away. As I become lost in memory's I relive my past. I am no-longer alone, as the arena comes alive. The crowd go silent as my entrance begins, and a ghost of myself appears behind me. I move to let the spectre past and he ignores me never taking his eyes from off the massive structure in front of him, a structure so imposing that it makes my phantom shudder as he shakes it, proving to himself its there. I jump at the sound of my opponents entrance and move to let him past. He is too interested in my doppelganger to care about the structure in which are battle will take place. I watch the illusionary match play out in front of me, though I know who will emerge victorious. Sure enough it is my ghost who gets his hand raised victorious. I raise my hand in a salute of victory, as my spectre turns to face me. However as we make eye contact the vision begins to fade. The steel shape disappears as do the phantom wrestlers. As the hallucination ends I feel content, knowing that this emotive incident has shown me the way forward. I become aware of the tears moistening my cheeks rub them away. I turn, exiting the arena without another glance. Somehow I know that behind me the arena is dark, and the little light that was there is gone. As I walk down the corridor my footsteps echo ahead of me, exiting the building before me.