Post by Caleb Lockwood on Mar 23, 2020 2:56:51 GMT
"The storm clouds are swirling. Can you see them?" Caleb looks up into a cloudy sky, crows cawing in the distance. "Can you feel the war on the horizon? We are a pauper kingdom, an empire of dirt, ruled over by a man who sits on a liar's throne." He chuckles. "And the rain will come and wash it all away. Sinners and saints, carried away in the flood. Only the rats will survive. Clinging tight as they always do. But I will gnaw at you, oh tenacious rats. I will gnaw and I will bite until your hands bleed and you must let go, fall back into the storm...as it must be."
He drums his knuckles along the pipe, nostrils flaring. "And when the worms come out of the woodwork, I'm going to crush them under my foot. The vampires, looking to leech off tragedy for their own profit. The vultures, trying to pick the bones of what they think is a corpse. My hand will shoot up and break your neck, carrion feeder. I'll leave you in the wreck, among your prey. It's all you deserve. It's all you're meant to be. Fodder for a second chance, a new world that needs food to grow...the bones of the old as the foundation for a better tomorrow. It's what we have to do."
Caleb looks down again, pipe in hand. "Some might say that it's just wrestling. That it doesn't mean that much. But it means that much to me. This is my life. This is all I've ever been good at. This is all I've ever known how to do. I have nothing without this." He chuckles, shaking his head. "I saw that firsthand when I left. I couldn't hold down a regular job. I couldn't keep my anger choked down, my worries from flooding me. I feel alive in that ring, and it's all I can do to hold onto the spark and keep it burning between matches. I look for anything I can to keep me going...and if I stop moving, I'm afraid I'll die."
"And I'm not ready to die." As he looks up, his voice sounds confident, but there's a little glimmer in his eye, a little something that shows a crack in the armor of Caleb Lockwood. "I'm not ready to let it be over. If I suffer, so will you. If I burn, those who lit the flame at my feet are going to be pulled into the fucking pyre with me. And each and every one of you is a log on that fire." He stands up slowly, unfolding to his full height with a cracking, popping movement, jerky and almost inhuman. "So burn. Burn like the love that once kept me going. And let the storm rain down on your burnt remains...douse your corpse...and let the tears bleed into the night. And I will walk over your bodies on my way to that liar's throne...as I break it to pieces. I hope it was worth it, Steve. I hope the pay in gold is enough to make the blood price a pill you can swallow." He looks out into the night, wind whipping up and past his face, and the rain begins to fall, pattering down on Caleb as he looks out into the clouds and we fade to black.
Sara peered around the corner, taking a deep breath. He was still Caleb. For now, anyway. Every once in a while, she would catch a glimpse of something in his eyes, something hungry and heartless, and she felt two calls in her heart. One was to try to be the voice of reason, the one who called to the better instincts of humanity inside him. But then the other voice spoke up. The one that said that humanity hadn't ever done anything for either of them. Why should she care if a few more of them were going to bleed?
Caleb looked over at her, eyes narrow and tight, but they carried with them that rare softness, the kind that only she saw these days. Without the thralls around them, the ones he had adopted and herded together, his ties were gone. They had been the only things that kept him there sometimes. Them and Dean...and he had killed that piece of his soul. He had thrown it off that stage, watched as the medics clustered around it, and let it bleed into the cement. Caleb had made that choice, and she hadn't told him that he was wrong to. And why should she? What good did it do either of them? Dean had made his choice, and she couldn't protect him from the consequences even if she wanted to. Caleb had been owed that. And Dean had paid up.
He cracked a small smile, walking over, and took her hands in his. "A better world, right? That's all we ever wanted. You wanted to shine a light in the dark places of the world. I wanted to bring joy to the people, the way I had needed when I was a child. Now here we are. We can still make that better world, Sara. Even if there's only space left for two."
Sara blinked, tilting her head to the side. "But Rowan...Brooklyn...the rest of them..." She trailed off, unable to complete the thought. Even as consumed by hatred as she was, she still thought of the family she had been remade to serve.
Caleb shushed her quietly, pulling her in and resting his forehead against hers. "They've shown their hand. Chosen their priorities. And if that's how they want it to be...then we'll make our own corner of things. Our own better. Just for us." Caleb took her hand, bringing his other down to her waist, and slow, soft music began to play. "Let's dance while they burn." Sara nodded, and the two of them began to dance slowly in the middle of the room. Two. Alone. Together.
He drums his knuckles along the pipe, nostrils flaring. "And when the worms come out of the woodwork, I'm going to crush them under my foot. The vampires, looking to leech off tragedy for their own profit. The vultures, trying to pick the bones of what they think is a corpse. My hand will shoot up and break your neck, carrion feeder. I'll leave you in the wreck, among your prey. It's all you deserve. It's all you're meant to be. Fodder for a second chance, a new world that needs food to grow...the bones of the old as the foundation for a better tomorrow. It's what we have to do."
Caleb looks down again, pipe in hand. "Some might say that it's just wrestling. That it doesn't mean that much. But it means that much to me. This is my life. This is all I've ever been good at. This is all I've ever known how to do. I have nothing without this." He chuckles, shaking his head. "I saw that firsthand when I left. I couldn't hold down a regular job. I couldn't keep my anger choked down, my worries from flooding me. I feel alive in that ring, and it's all I can do to hold onto the spark and keep it burning between matches. I look for anything I can to keep me going...and if I stop moving, I'm afraid I'll die."
"And I'm not ready to die." As he looks up, his voice sounds confident, but there's a little glimmer in his eye, a little something that shows a crack in the armor of Caleb Lockwood. "I'm not ready to let it be over. If I suffer, so will you. If I burn, those who lit the flame at my feet are going to be pulled into the fucking pyre with me. And each and every one of you is a log on that fire." He stands up slowly, unfolding to his full height with a cracking, popping movement, jerky and almost inhuman. "So burn. Burn like the love that once kept me going. And let the storm rain down on your burnt remains...douse your corpse...and let the tears bleed into the night. And I will walk over your bodies on my way to that liar's throne...as I break it to pieces. I hope it was worth it, Steve. I hope the pay in gold is enough to make the blood price a pill you can swallow." He looks out into the night, wind whipping up and past his face, and the rain begins to fall, pattering down on Caleb as he looks out into the clouds and we fade to black.
Sara peered around the corner, taking a deep breath. He was still Caleb. For now, anyway. Every once in a while, she would catch a glimpse of something in his eyes, something hungry and heartless, and she felt two calls in her heart. One was to try to be the voice of reason, the one who called to the better instincts of humanity inside him. But then the other voice spoke up. The one that said that humanity hadn't ever done anything for either of them. Why should she care if a few more of them were going to bleed?
Caleb looked over at her, eyes narrow and tight, but they carried with them that rare softness, the kind that only she saw these days. Without the thralls around them, the ones he had adopted and herded together, his ties were gone. They had been the only things that kept him there sometimes. Them and Dean...and he had killed that piece of his soul. He had thrown it off that stage, watched as the medics clustered around it, and let it bleed into the cement. Caleb had made that choice, and she hadn't told him that he was wrong to. And why should she? What good did it do either of them? Dean had made his choice, and she couldn't protect him from the consequences even if she wanted to. Caleb had been owed that. And Dean had paid up.
He cracked a small smile, walking over, and took her hands in his. "A better world, right? That's all we ever wanted. You wanted to shine a light in the dark places of the world. I wanted to bring joy to the people, the way I had needed when I was a child. Now here we are. We can still make that better world, Sara. Even if there's only space left for two."
Sara blinked, tilting her head to the side. "But Rowan...Brooklyn...the rest of them..." She trailed off, unable to complete the thought. Even as consumed by hatred as she was, she still thought of the family she had been remade to serve.
Caleb shushed her quietly, pulling her in and resting his forehead against hers. "They've shown their hand. Chosen their priorities. And if that's how they want it to be...then we'll make our own corner of things. Our own better. Just for us." Caleb took her hand, bringing his other down to her waist, and slow, soft music began to play. "Let's dance while they burn." Sara nodded, and the two of them began to dance slowly in the middle of the room. Two. Alone. Together.