All right everyone...here's the next chapter of this drama! Let's delve into the world of the mysterious HeartBreak kid, and see what makes him tick.
Hold on, because this is a bumpy ride.
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London and Kendrick's Suicide Table
Dedicated to NeroAnne, Terrahfry, Redsandman99 and Seraphalexiel
by Green Phantom Queen
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Chapter 5-Shawn's Heart Breaking
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Hara-kiri was my own brain child. There, I brought out the dreams of every teenager who was there. I taught them to live, I taught them to cry...I taught them how to become anew...it was a long and tiring process, but many of them succeeded. There, they acted out the roles that they were made to play, and it gave me happiness to see them smiling. Every single one of these blank faces have been painted with something else...but there are others who eventually crack under the pressure that they have too many identities. Those are my favorites...
Shawn opened the door, smirking at what he was seeing. Sitting on the bed was a handsome man 21 years of age with long brown hair, blue eyes and a muscled physique. He was wearing a white coat with a faux fur collar and his legs were draped in a white pair of pants with brown crosses sewn on the legs. He was swinging his legs back and forth while he was staring at the television with the blinds closed. He didn't even turn his head to his guest, seeing what was on the screen.
Suddenly, the lights turned on. The boy noticed the change and stared at Shawn, eyes like a deer caught in the headlights.
"W...what do you want?" He asked in a timid voice.
"You got a request." Shawn answered. "These parents are requesting Johnny Blaze to be their teenage rockstar son."
"Blaze?" asked Morrison, twiddling his fingers. "He's scary...he likes to burn stuff."
"Exactly." said Shawn, walking into Morrison's closet. Morrison stayed quiet, and soon began to continue what he was doing before Shawn entered the room. He was watching something called WCW Nitro with two wrestlers—the announcers called them Rey Mysterio and Eddie Guerrero—and looked at it with some interest.
"There we go." said Shawn after some time. He came back out, placing a red silk shirt and pants into Morrison's lap. It felt really soft, and also had golden dragons flying around. John Morrison looked at them before letting a wicked smile creep onto his lips.
"Let's burn the world..." He said as he tossed his fur coat onto the ground. Shawn just smirked as he grasped onto the remote control, turning the television off.
Aw, John Morrison. Original name: John Hennigan. He used to have two personalities, but now he has four. When the need arises, he becomes either Johnny Nitro or Johnny Blaze...but it wasn't until about 2 years ago that he also became known as Johnny Spade and Johnny Onyx. He ran away from home with his best friend and lover Adam Birch—otherwise known on hara-kiri as Mercury, but had his name changed to Joey Matthews. Adam mixed drugs with alcohol for a while and died of an overdose during one of his jobs. When Johnny found out, he pretty much snapped...and it was beautiful. How he completely became a mass of confusion, sometimes laughing, sometimes acting elegant, sometimes acting obstinate...it was that final push of losing someone he had loved that broke him.
I set him as an example to all of my new students on how to completely gain new personalities and still retain their original shell. I tell them it doesn't hurt at all—and believe me it doesn't. A couple of these students are going to get a giant personality change by the time this is over and it'll be fun. Especially since I gave them all journals to record their lives and personality 'tweaks'.
Michaels walked out of the room and went down the hallway once more. He then went to the last door of the hallway, his room. He smiled as he walked to the phone on his dresser, beginning to dial a familiar number. He let it ring before letting out a sigh.
My life was sort of like John Morrison's also...it all started when I was a little boy....
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I was found in a locker of a train station, only three days old. At least...that's what I gathered from what old Jim Ross told me back at the orphanage. Bless the man's dear soul...
"BOOM!"
For he was shot in cold blood when I turned six years old. Jim Ross was a good man...and everyone in the orphanage was in shock when he was killed. I was in time out for dumping glue on this girl named Sunny. I thought that Austin and Bret were fighting each other and tackling each other to the ground. But when none of us heart Jim Ross come to break it up—he was the only person who could do that—there was trouble. I left my time out to look for him...and I found him on the ground, blood pooling out of a wound on his forehead. What was worse, was that the people who murdered him were still there.
I was angry...they took away the person who took care of me. They had to pay. While they were making fun of me, I immediately used that time to snatch a gun from them and pointed it at the three. It was then that the other orphans came, all of them afraid of the three murderers.
And then, I did the unthinkable. I shot them all. The three went down without a fight, all of them dieing in the hands of a little boy.
When the cops finally entered, I was sent into a facility for crazy boys like myself. Hauled in a straightjacket, being placed into paddy wagons while everyone else got to be in comfy homes. Oh sure, I made up with lots of friends...but only because I dominated them. By the time I was 16, I beat the bullies into shape, made them my servants, and asked them time and time again who I was.
I was Shawn Michaels...I was their leader, and no one had the autority to prove me wrong.
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"You rapscallion!" screamed a voice. Shawn just smiled all the same.
Aw, Elizabeth Taylor. She was one of the first girls I fell in love with. Or, who I had feelings for, anyway. I met her after I escaped that jail due to 'good behavior'. I was the leader of a motorcycle gang known as the Rockers. And boy did I love every minute of it. Partying, getting to fights...that type of life
Shawn stared at her. At age eighteen, he became very handsome. Long brown hair falling past his shoulders and kept in a ponytail, which only added to his muscled physique. Blue eyes glittered in the sun and a smile that could swoon any girl off their feet. He was dressed in a pair of leather chaps with red broken harts lining it, along with a black leather jacket on top of it and black boots covering his feet. But all the same, Elizabeth Taylor didn't like it.
"Aw, what's the matter?" asked Shawn. "I was just asking you if you wanted to join me. Me and the Rockers are going to party tonight. Wanna come?"
"First off, it's the Rockers and I." said Elizabeth. "And second, no. I am not going to be hanging around with you people!"
"You're just scared." said Shawn teasingly. "But don't worry, I'll tell the boys to take it reeealll slow for you."
"I'd rather gargle bicarbonate of soda." Elizabeth replied with sarcasm. "Now get lost."
"Oh, why not live life instead of staying in the sidelines?" asked Shawn.
"Because I have a life, unlike you." Elizabeth snapped.
"Life isn't always about books and checking your weight; it's about living while you still can."
"Well, I want to live a life without you, that's for sure. Now if you excuse me, I'm out of here."
And she was out of my life. She walked away and married a man known as Randy 'Macho Man' Savage. Years later, I found out that she was abused pretty badly, and some people said that she was 'sorry' about something. Whether she was sorry about insulting me, sorry about being married, or just plain sorry, I never found out. But she couldn't play her role as the woman she needed to be...and that was it.
Life went on afterwards. The Rockers split, and I was on my own for a while. I didn't like having that loneliness...for the first time in my life, I was seeking companionship. I lived alone for a while...until I met him...
The one that ruined my life.
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I found him one night at my local hang out: Sweetchin Music. He was tough, had blonde hair and a big nose. The two of us battled each other in a pool game; I won, as usual. However, I couldn't deny that there was something special about my opponent.
At the end of our match, we exchanged names. The man called himself Hunter Hurst Helmsly, Triple H for short.
We didn't get along at first—I called him Pinnochio, he called me Jack Skellington. And then there were the fights where we tried to one-up each other in drinking, motorcycle racing, chicken...good times, good times....
And we stayed like that for about three years. It was then, that I told him something that I thought I would never say in my entire life.
"Hunter...I know that we've known each other for a few years...but the truth is. I...I....I love you."
And it only took three seconds for Triple H to screw everything up.
"You sick fuck! Don't you dare speak to me again! I can't believe that you only wanted to be in my pants this whole time! Get out of my sight; and never return! NEVER!"
I don't exactly remember what happened...but I do remember that he pushed me down, grabbed my arms and then dropped me down onto the cold pavement. I would later see him do that same move—he called it a Pedigree—and it sickened me. Because after his little 'trick', he brough out a lead pipe and bashed my back with it. He left me bloodied and bruised, and my back was never going to heal due to his injuries.
As I laid there, feeling the pain surging down my spine...I realized that loneliness and life went hand in hand. I was parading around in skins that I shouldn't have been in, and my true self was lost in relationships that never should've been placed. Being set in contemplation can really warp your mind, you know. It was there that I felt as if there other people who died like I did.
I died when Jim Ross got shot, when I shot his murderers, and when I got sent into that asylum.
I died when the only woman—aside from my future wife—became abused and married that mad man.
I died when I found out that I was gay and my only friend attacked me.
But now, I was reborn. I rose from the ashes and became the phoenix. If this was how life was going to treat me, tough. I was going to treat them back, by letting people know how it is good to die and be reborn.
And may the Lord have mercy on anyone who tried to stop me.
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It was simple; I needed followers. I crafted the identity 'Michael Hickenbottom' whenever I travelled abroad, and it suited all of my needs. I worked and worked on making my business—if you can call it a 'business'--of reforming tired souls to become anew. Based on my ideas of being a loner, and of being pushed and shoved around for such a long time, it became a 'rental' business...renting people to become family members, spouses, lovers, etc.
It was all so easy, and thanks to the power of the Internet, word grew.
Hara-kiri...the name for seppuku...slashing your stomach with a sword, spilling out all of your malice until there's nothing left but a hollow shell. Seppuku used for warriors filled with honor; these souls would gain that honor, would gain that shell, would become anew...and then, I would send my message to the world. This is what it gest for what you did to me....
Followers were hard to find in the beginning; the first ones I found were two half-brothers known as Mark and Glen. Mark had mental issues, and confessed that he killed his mother and father in a burning mausoleum. Glen, the younger brother, was sent into an asylum where he had a strange penchant for fire later on. I helped change their fates, and they became my loyal servants going under the names of Undertaker and Kane—the Brothers of Destruction.
Soon, more and more followers arrived. And with the creation of hara-kiri, it became easier to 'understand' and get into their skins. They would run off to meet us, and they followed our commands as if they had no choice not to. Some of them were frightened on the idea of death, but I told them that it was needed...we couldn't all be the flowers in the vase you know. People had to die, it was the circle of life after all. But their deaths wouldn't be in vain; they would live on...and they would return one day. Until then, they would be resting in the Earth...and the good Lord would take care of them.
Triple H, I will find you, and I will make sure that you understand what you have done to me..You'll find out soon enough.
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"Hello?" said a tired voice on the phone.
"Oh, hi David." said Shawn. "It's nice to meet you again."
"Who is this?" said David on the phone. "Who are you?"
"I am the one who breaks all hearts and rebuilds them. Tell me, who are you? And can you hear me?"
"Yes." The tone of the voice soon became montonous...as if in a trance.
"Good, now tell me, what has happened to you ever since we last met?"
"Nothing much...I got married, and have two sons. Twins, to be exact."
"Really?" asked Shawn, with a fake curious tone. "And what are their names?"
David soon gave him the names. Shawn nodded his head.
"Can I speak to them?" asked Shawn.
"...They ran away." David said in reply. "I don't know where they went."
"I'll keep an eye out for them, so don't worry. Oh, by the way...I have one more thing to say."
"And what's that?"
"Awaken, David William Heath. It is time to fulfill your role as a messenger of the Kliq."