Post by Mason St. Croix on Aug 24, 2014 7:01:35 GMT
Erica, Jack, and Emmie stood in line inside a sweets shop in downtown Savannah. The line was moving slowly and Emmie became impatient like any six year old girl would in that situation.
“When’s it going to be our turn Mommy?” Emmie asked looking up at Erica.
“It won’t be much longer, honey. There are only a few more people left. Do you know what you want?”
“Yeah! A Bear Claw!” Emmie exclaimed.
“How about you Jack?” Erica asked, her eyes moving to the boy who hadn’t looked up from the game he was playing on his iPod. “I asked you a question, Jack.”
She attempts to grab the device away from him but he jerks it back and then looks at the screen before angrily sliding it into the pocket of his jeans and turning to Erica.
“You made me lose my last life, I’ve been trying to beat that level for days and I was so close. Thanks, Mom!” Jack said with a huff.
“I can take it, and all of your others games and TV away young man.” Erica retorted, not noticing Emmie had wondered off until she heard her shout.
“Daddy!”
Erica turned to see Emmie running out the door of the store and latching onto the leg of Mason who just happened to be walking past the window. She quickly grabbed Jack by the arm, dragging him out of the line and outside the store where Mason had bent down and was hugging Emmie. He let her go and stood up face to face with Erica. She noticed the smell of alcohol was heavy on his breath right away and pulled Emmie towards her.
“You look…” She paused, homeless was what she was thinking but didn’t want to be too offensive. “Rough.”
“Well it’s nice to see you too, Erica.”
“Jack, take your sister and go back inside and sit down at that small table right by the window where I can see you.” Erica asked.
Jack begrudgingly took Emmie by the hand but she pulled away.
“No! I want to see my Daddy.” Emmie demanded.
“I told you, he doesn’t care about us.” Jack said, putting his arm around Emmie who began to cry and they walked back inside the store.
“That’s not true.” Mason’s heart sank as he looked at Erica. “They know that right?”
“I’m not even sure myself Mason.” Erica sighed, her tone becoming more sincere. “You need help, and apparently not just with the psychological issues you’re dealing with but drinking too. Every time you call to say you’re coming over you never show up. Your Dad said you were in bad shape but I didn’t realize it was this bad.”
“You know I love my kids, and they have to know it.” Mason pleaded. “No one knows what it’s like inside my head. Trying to cope with the things I’ve found out that I’ve done, and trying to keep the memories that may or may not be real from coming back.”
“I’m sorry, Mase.” She glanced over at their children sitting at a table inside the shop, Jack trying to show Emmie something on the iPod. “I believe you love the kids, but after that incident at the restaurant and now seeing you in public and very obviously drunk I can’t let the kids around you… at least not until you get better.”
“Better?” The anger rang out in Mason’s voice, even causing others to stop and stare. “There is no getting better from what I’ve been through Erica. I’m broken, permanently. I can’t unsee the things I’ve seen or undo the things I’ve done. They’ll haunt me until the day I die and no amount of counseling or whatever kind of help you think I need will fix me.”
“I hope that’s not true, I really do.” Erica said. “You won’t know until you try, but you have to be willing to get help.”
“Help…” Mason turned and started walking away, his voice cracking. “I’m far beyond help, this is rock bottom. See ya Erica, tell the kids I love them.”
He walks back in the direction he was originally heading which was towards a bar at the corner of the street. Erica watches as he disappears into the crowd outside the bar. Her eyes fill with tears, sad to see the man she loved and once proud soldier in such a bad way.
Mason sat at the kitchen table in his apartment. His eyes were glassed over and sitting on the table in front of him were a prescription bottle and a glass of amber colored liquid most likely rum since that was his drink of choice. Also on the table were a .38 Special Revolver and a box of bullets.
“One way or another this ends… tonight.”
He opened the pill bottle and popped a handful into his mouth, washing it down with the liquor.
“That’ll probably just get me really fucking high.” He said, talking out loud in the empty room, or so he thought.
He loaded the gun with the bullets and pulled the hammer back.
“This’ll do the trick though.”
He stuck the gun in his mouth but before he could pull the trigger a hand, a very cold hand, emerged from the darkness and took his arm.
“No my Son…” Angel’s voice was surprisingly calming as he stepped from the shadows and Mason removed the gun from his mouth.
“How the…” Mason’s words were cut off.
“No questions child. Just understand that I have been here by your side this whole time. I can help you, if you believe in me.”
“I’m not…” Again Mason’s words were cut short.
“WILL YOU LET ME HELP YOU? DO YOU BELIEVE?” Angel’s voice now boomed and echoed throughout the tiny apartment.
Mason wasn’t sure if the figure before him, the man he knew as Angel Blake 6 months earlier before he left IWF was even really there. He’d been drinking since noon and had taken enough painkillers to knock out a bull, plus he’s been known to see things that weren’t really there. This seemed real to him though, and he did believe that he could help, he just didn’t know how but he was willing to try anything because he almost swallowed a bullet mere seconds earlier.
“Yes, I believe.”
Fade to black.
“When’s it going to be our turn Mommy?” Emmie asked looking up at Erica.
“It won’t be much longer, honey. There are only a few more people left. Do you know what you want?”
“Yeah! A Bear Claw!” Emmie exclaimed.
“How about you Jack?” Erica asked, her eyes moving to the boy who hadn’t looked up from the game he was playing on his iPod. “I asked you a question, Jack.”
She attempts to grab the device away from him but he jerks it back and then looks at the screen before angrily sliding it into the pocket of his jeans and turning to Erica.
“You made me lose my last life, I’ve been trying to beat that level for days and I was so close. Thanks, Mom!” Jack said with a huff.
“I can take it, and all of your others games and TV away young man.” Erica retorted, not noticing Emmie had wondered off until she heard her shout.
“Daddy!”
Erica turned to see Emmie running out the door of the store and latching onto the leg of Mason who just happened to be walking past the window. She quickly grabbed Jack by the arm, dragging him out of the line and outside the store where Mason had bent down and was hugging Emmie. He let her go and stood up face to face with Erica. She noticed the smell of alcohol was heavy on his breath right away and pulled Emmie towards her.
“You look…” She paused, homeless was what she was thinking but didn’t want to be too offensive. “Rough.”
“Well it’s nice to see you too, Erica.”
“Jack, take your sister and go back inside and sit down at that small table right by the window where I can see you.” Erica asked.
Jack begrudgingly took Emmie by the hand but she pulled away.
“No! I want to see my Daddy.” Emmie demanded.
“I told you, he doesn’t care about us.” Jack said, putting his arm around Emmie who began to cry and they walked back inside the store.
“That’s not true.” Mason’s heart sank as he looked at Erica. “They know that right?”
“I’m not even sure myself Mason.” Erica sighed, her tone becoming more sincere. “You need help, and apparently not just with the psychological issues you’re dealing with but drinking too. Every time you call to say you’re coming over you never show up. Your Dad said you were in bad shape but I didn’t realize it was this bad.”
“You know I love my kids, and they have to know it.” Mason pleaded. “No one knows what it’s like inside my head. Trying to cope with the things I’ve found out that I’ve done, and trying to keep the memories that may or may not be real from coming back.”
“I’m sorry, Mase.” She glanced over at their children sitting at a table inside the shop, Jack trying to show Emmie something on the iPod. “I believe you love the kids, but after that incident at the restaurant and now seeing you in public and very obviously drunk I can’t let the kids around you… at least not until you get better.”
“Better?” The anger rang out in Mason’s voice, even causing others to stop and stare. “There is no getting better from what I’ve been through Erica. I’m broken, permanently. I can’t unsee the things I’ve seen or undo the things I’ve done. They’ll haunt me until the day I die and no amount of counseling or whatever kind of help you think I need will fix me.”
“I hope that’s not true, I really do.” Erica said. “You won’t know until you try, but you have to be willing to get help.”
“Help…” Mason turned and started walking away, his voice cracking. “I’m far beyond help, this is rock bottom. See ya Erica, tell the kids I love them.”
He walks back in the direction he was originally heading which was towards a bar at the corner of the street. Erica watches as he disappears into the crowd outside the bar. Her eyes fill with tears, sad to see the man she loved and once proud soldier in such a bad way.
2 weeks. 2 matches. 2 wins.
This seems like it’s becoming a pattern. Sure it’s only two matches but my first go round in IWF I had amassed 7 straight wins until I underestimated Nero Blake. I can’t guarantee there won’t be a slip up at some point but it won’t be because I underestimated anyone or because I wasn’t prepared. My focus, my determination, and my will are unmatched right now. I’ve been given a new lease on life so to speak and I’m making it count.
No one would have ever thought a month ago that former IWF Heavyweight Champion, Mr. Goody Two Shoes, All-American good guy Mason St. Croix would join the Age of X and stand side by side with the most hated members of the roster. I was an afterthought, I was all but forgotten but I wasn’t ready to go down the same road as Duke Winchester.
I’m Mason St. Croix, The Perfect Weapon, and I refuse to be a footnote in the IWF history books.
This leads me to Kyle Mason, the man that I destroyed in one of the most shocking returns to IWF this year. My return had been planned, in private, for quite some time. We didn’t know how, we didn’t know where, and we didn’t know who would be the first to taste 6 months of pent up, pissed off Army Ranger aggression. Then you answered all those questions for us by letting Social Media cause you to get your ass kicked over and over again Kyle.
You’re a legit badass, you’ve fought in MMA and it takes true toughness on a different level than most pro wrestlers possess to be able to do that. You should be one of if not the most intimidating opponents anyone in IWF will ever face. Then you open your mouth and it all goes to shit cause we realize the wheel is turning but the hamster is dead. With every word you speak you become less and less intimidating because instead of telling me that you’re coming to Legacy to beat me for what I’ve done to you thus far in our little rivalry like you should be doing you’re going on and on about being evil and that you’re the devil.
You’re a fucking joke, Kyle.
This is not about what you think it’s about. You’re an annoyance that needed to be dealt with and that’s why this match is happening. It’s not about revenge; it’s not about good and evil. You were a problem that was too minor for OUR Champion to bother with so I get the pleasure of defeating you. That’s it. While it may happen I’m not going to make it a point to spill your blood, I don’t want to end your career, or kill you which is the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard by the way. I’m just gonna beat you, it’s that simple.
I lived 10 years of my life where every morning when I woke up I didn’t know if I would live through that day. I saw plenty of good men leave in the morning and never come back because they couldn’t find enough of them to bring back. I wasn’t afraid to die, because I knew it was a possibility and it was what I signed up for. I would have gladly given my life in the line of duty. I don’t have to be willing to die for anything now, all I have to do is out wrestle my opponent and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. You may spill my blood but the IWF mat has been stained with my blood before. You’re damn sure not ending my career either, that’s a threat the last guy I fought on IWF Pay Per View made too. He beat me, but he didn’t end my career and you won’t do either one.
I’m glad that this match is being fought under Man of Steel rules, because it’ll be all the more humiliating and humbling when I either make you submit or leave you unable to answer a ten count. The question is which will I choose? Maybe I’ll make you submit to strikes, that’d be a first in IWF. I can see it now, all your delusional talk and then I beat on you until you beg them to stop the match. That’s highly unlikely though cause I don’t think you’ve got enough sense to know when you’ve had enough. That’s fine, I can choke you to sleep or knock you out. So many possibilities but the outcome will be the same.
When I beat you Kyle will you still reach for your unachievable goal? Frank Black beat you, multiple times, yet you still threatened our leader. Hopefully it only takes this once but I will continue assault you both in official matches and any chance I get outside the ring until you give up and realize that you are beneath him.
I am unrelenting, unbreakable, and I will not stop until you do.
Mason sat at the kitchen table in his apartment. His eyes were glassed over and sitting on the table in front of him were a prescription bottle and a glass of amber colored liquid most likely rum since that was his drink of choice. Also on the table were a .38 Special Revolver and a box of bullets.
“One way or another this ends… tonight.”
He opened the pill bottle and popped a handful into his mouth, washing it down with the liquor.
“That’ll probably just get me really fucking high.” He said, talking out loud in the empty room, or so he thought.
He loaded the gun with the bullets and pulled the hammer back.
“This’ll do the trick though.”
He stuck the gun in his mouth but before he could pull the trigger a hand, a very cold hand, emerged from the darkness and took his arm.
“No my Son…” Angel’s voice was surprisingly calming as he stepped from the shadows and Mason removed the gun from his mouth.
“How the…” Mason’s words were cut off.
“No questions child. Just understand that I have been here by your side this whole time. I can help you, if you believe in me.”
“I’m not…” Again Mason’s words were cut short.
“WILL YOU LET ME HELP YOU? DO YOU BELIEVE?” Angel’s voice now boomed and echoed throughout the tiny apartment.
Mason wasn’t sure if the figure before him, the man he knew as Angel Blake 6 months earlier before he left IWF was even really there. He’d been drinking since noon and had taken enough painkillers to knock out a bull, plus he’s been known to see things that weren’t really there. This seemed real to him though, and he did believe that he could help, he just didn’t know how but he was willing to try anything because he almost swallowed a bullet mere seconds earlier.
“Yes, I believe.”
Fade to black.
Well howdy there pardner.