Post by Angel Blake on Mar 2, 2020 23:42:29 GMT
His hands are still warm to the touch. His skin is still silky smooth. Life still flowed through him though diminished...
His eyes were lifeless, empty...
His lungs struggled to draw air on their own...
He was alive but only by definition...
Silently a shadow stood by his bed side forever waiting for his son to open his eyes once more. His lips moved reciting an old prayer though he did not know to whom he was praying. Empty words passing his lips to forever disappear into the ether…
“Bring my son back”
He said it quietly over and over again...
”You know what you need to do.”
Her voice was low, almost indistinguishable from the wind. Like the low hum of a drum beat progressively getting louder. He knew if he listened to her, entertained the bargain she was most assuredly offering her voice would become deafening once more. He’d lose himself once more.
And yet…
”I know what I need to do…”
His resolve wavered. What if she can do what she promises this time? What if she can bring his son back to the way he was, beautiful and full of life? What if this time is different?
”I do not know if I am strong enough to do it.”
His eyes were lifeless, empty...
His lungs struggled to draw air on their own...
He was alive but only by definition...
Silently a shadow stood by his bed side forever waiting for his son to open his eyes once more. His lips moved reciting an old prayer though he did not know to whom he was praying. Empty words passing his lips to forever disappear into the ether…
“Bring my son back”
He said it quietly over and over again...
”You know what you need to do.”
Her voice was low, almost indistinguishable from the wind. Like the low hum of a drum beat progressively getting louder. He knew if he listened to her, entertained the bargain she was most assuredly offering her voice would become deafening once more. He’d lose himself once more.
And yet…
”I know what I need to do…”
His resolve wavered. What if she can do what she promises this time? What if she can bring his son back to the way he was, beautiful and full of life? What if this time is different?
”I do not know if I am strong enough to do it.”
A cold hand clasped his shoulder. A familiar hand. One that had guided him for years.
”We can save him.”
He clasped his son's hands in his own. He felt the warmth of life flowing through his veins. His son would tell him to ignore her. Turn her away. That he didn’t need to become that thing again. Take care of Damien, raise him right, guide him to be the person neither father of son could ever be…
But he wanted revenge.
”I can give you that as well.”
No! He mustn’t listen to her. Not again. Not this time. He can do what needs to be done without her help. He doesn’t need to become something more than he already is. He doesn’t need to ascend.
”You’re lying to yourself again.”
”QUIET!”
He yelled before he even knew he was going to speak. He couldn’t take the drumming in his head anymore. The low hum was becoming unbearable. Like fingers rapping against his brain in a four count.
”I do not need you.”
Yes, he reassured himself. He’d accomplished so much on his own. He didn’t need her. Not one bit…
”The one who did this to you will pay, my son.”
He’d been a World Champion without her. He’d entered Halls of Fame without her. He’s made himself both feared and respected without her. He can take some small measure of revenge without her, couldn’t he? Why, it’s no grander a challenge than any of his other past successes so why shouldn’t he be able to do something so simple?
Why did he keep questioning himself?
”Your body still aches from your last battle.”
”The bird was but a trifle.”
”One that has kept you inactive for a very long time.”
”I wished to be with my family.”
Did she laugh? Or did he? Why was he conversing with her?
”Look where that sentiment has gotten you.”
Was she implying this was somehow his fault?
”You weren’t there when the boy needed you.”
Someone had to watch Damien.
”You sat at home like a spectator as your son had the life beaten out of him.”
No, this wasn’t his fault. Dean is a grown man, he can handle his own business.
”Can he?”
He felt his hand gesture to the unconscious body before him against his will.
”Stop it!”
He pulled his own hand back as he stepped away from his son.
”Dean picked his battle…”
”And lost.”
”That was a risk he was willing to take…”
He drew a long breath and focused on his son’s own breathing. Drown her out. Ignore her. She will grow tired of this game eventually. Focus on what’s more important.
The Roulette.
”Caleb Lockwood…
And the man who caused this.
”He put you in this bed…”
Slowly he caressed the forehead of his son.
”He tried to steal your life…”
“He did not take the time to consider…”
“The consequences of his actions…”
“I will be the consequences…”
“I will be the vessel of your righteous vengeance…”
“Caleb Lockwood will regret the day…”
“He crossed the Blake family…”
He thought now of Caleb Lockwood alone in the ring with himself. Will he break? Will he bleed? Will he cry? The questions sent a shiver down his spine.
”The Roulette is coming…”
“I will meet him on this battlefield…”
“I will take from him his dreams…”
“His passion…”
“His desire…”
“And when he thinks he has nothing left to lose…”
“I will take his heart…”
“All for you, my son…”
“All in your name…”
“I will paint for you a mural in his blood…”
“Shaded with the dust of his bones…”
“Framed by his innards…”
“When you awake…”
“What is left of Lockwood…”
“Will reside above your headboard…”
There is no rest for the wicked and he has rested for far too long.
Well howdy there pardner.