The aftermath of Golden Intentions was a somber one for the Aces. The tag titles were lost...
Jim Gunt: Duce with the save! And here comes The Shadow!
Just as Gunt calls it, the Weaver of Dreams rushes at the Kid That Never Dies, but he dropkicks the legs of Shadow, sending him straddling the middle rope! Duce hits the opposite set, coming back swinging his knee through the ropes connecting with his face! NICE TO KNEE YOU! Shadow goes flying back onto the canvas as Duce returns to the corner, begging for Styles to make the tag! However, Amelia is to her feet, bringing Styles up to a standing position. Almost in a daze, Amelia backs him to the ropes, where Jones makes the blind tag! Amelia goes to whip Freddie to the opposite set, but he reverses, when she returns Styles pops her into the air! Upon her decent, Jones catches her with a Knee Strike! Amelia lands on her feet in a daze, suddenly shaking off the effects, and exploding through Duce once more with a Running Big Boot! Before Freddie can react on the apron, the Shadow sends him flying off the apron with the Hammer of the Gods! He quickly perches himself on the second rope, waiting as Duce unknowingly rises in his direction! Jones is almost to his feet, but is soon spiked into the canvas with the NIGHTFALL! Amelia’s laugh can be heard throughout as she quickly brings Duce up once more, she hooks him and spikes him once more onto his head with the LAST LAUGH! SHE HOOKS THE LEG!
...and the rumble itself, Duce lasted longer, Freddie eliminated Dane, but neither man factored into the finish of that match either. Both men Sit, both in a bit of a daze, before Duce decided to walk over to his tag partner, his brother, tapped him on the hsoulder...
Duce: Tough night man...but we'll bounce back.
Freddie: Yeah. We had a bit of a run...we'll get back. No worries.
Duce: Bet that.
Duce taps Freddie on the shoulder again, before he leaves. Freddie goes to pack his bags, before the voice...
I knew you'd fuck it up.
Fuck me? You shoulda been fucking Amelia up in the ring...maybe you'd still have those tag straps. You're the weak fucking link. Duce don't need you.
Fuck you mean? You on that shit.
Dude...you were trash all damn night.
Trash. This aint CZW Styles I've been seeing. This aint the fucking killer...two time world champion Styles I've been seeing. You been bitch made. Aint no damn way you're gonna be of much help to ol Duce against that monster Elisha and ol Judas Colter. It's the bitch...she gotta go.
Hell no! She's the best thing in my life! And I don']t need you to handle either one of them. We beat Colter for those damn belts! And Elisha ain't shit but a tall dude full of words...he ain't go no heart for this for real. Don't do this!
She's killing you...killing us. She gotta go! And I know how to get rid of her.
I won't....I can't!
You fucking will...it's time to take back over the game again...
....and the scene fades with Freddie holding his head screaming, trying to stop the voice from driving him crazy...
I inhaled the drag of my cigarette while I continued to watch Salem blow me. She did a hell of a job, I must admit. I took in another long drag of the cigarette, and rested my head back on the head rest of the recliner. I slowly exhaled, listening to the sucking and slurping sounds coming from my lap. I looked down and watched her, as she met me with her eyes. I smiled at her, and pulled her face up.
"Let's go to the bedroom. You want me to fuck you don't you?", I laughed as I said this.
"Do you even have to ask?", she replied.
I stood up, pulled up my pants, put out the cigarette in the ashtray and walked up the stairs; Salem closely following me. We got to the extra bedroom and I threw Salem on to the bed. She was naked besides a pair of black, lace booty shorts. I didn't like doing this to Aurora, but for some reason I felt compelled to.
"Fuck me Freddie. Do it right now! I wanna feel you inside me.", she moaned as I pulled down her panties.
"Heh. You want it that bad huh?", I asked with a smirk.
"Give it to me Papi!", she damanded as she wrapped her hands around the back of my head and pulled me in to kiss her.
I inserted in to her, and thrusted in to her harder and harder with every stroke. I could hear her screaming with moans, and it made my body quiver with pleasure.
There you go Freddie, you finally grew a pair. How is it? A good fuck?
What do you think? As good as it was the first thirty times. This girl knows how to take a dick. Heh.
What a wonderful neighbor. I'd go for the Latino too, good choice.
I don't need your stamp of approval to fuck bitches. Why are you bothering me? Im in the middle of something as you noticed.
Exactly. I wanted to see if you could continue with me in your head. I didn't think you could. Suprise, Suprise, Freddie. I have some business to speak to you about.
Can it wait until I'm done?
Yes. We will do this when the girl is gone.
I continued to have my way with Salem. She moaned like the whore she was, screaming and clawing at my back. I felt my sanity slip. I knew I was going crazy, and just like the last time, I was trying to accept it. I continued to fuck the well-tanned Salem, this time from behind. I was going crazy, twice as hard as I normally would.
"How does that fucking feel!?! You fucking like that bitch!?! Take it!!", I screamed.
"Uhhh, give it to me. Harder. HARDER!! Fuck me Freddie, fuck me!!"
I was loving this. I felt power over Salem. Power like I used to feel. I felt stronger than ever before. I realized I could have given two shits about Aurora right then. I was pounding away at a gorgeous broad that men would die to be with. And she begged for me!
I couldn't believe the day I was having; a huge smile was pasted to my face as I pulled Freddie's vehicle into the drive-way. I turned off the car and raised my sunglasses on top of my head. I looked down at my stomach and the smile grew even wider. I placed my right palm underneath my top and rested it on my bare, flat stomach. Inside there was a life, a wonderful little baby growing inside of me; a baby that Freddie and I created in the middle of one of our passionate love-making sessions. I couldn't wait to tell him, I had hoped in finding this out it might snap him out of whatever weird state he had sunk into.
I had found out earlier today that I was having a baby. Over the past few weeks I had been feeling sick but I didn't tell Freddie because he already appeared to have enough going on in his life. I decided I needed to go to a doctor, I left him sleeping that morning as my appointment was at nine-thirty. After a couple of tests the doctor happily informed me that I was four and a half weeks pregnant. He gravely told me though that because my blood pressure was high and it appeared I was under some serious stress that he wanted me to get lots of rest and relax as much as I could, any more stress could cause long-term effects for mine and Freddie's child.
Feeling that Freddie would be nothing more than thrilled, I got out of the vehicle but not before I grabbed a pink, white, and blue shopping bag that contained various things for a new born child. I couldn't help it, I loved children and wanted to get a head start on shopping for my own. I peeked inside of the bag which contained a white fleece lamb, a precious white baggy nightgown for a new born, and last of all a new born hat for the baby to wear when he or she came home from the hospital. I grinned brightly and stepped out of the vehicle. I walked inside of the house and placed my purse on the counter. Still clutching the bag from the baby store, I walked toward the upstairs figuring that Freddie might be taking a shower or just waking up.
I walked upstairs until I reached guest room, however my smile soon faded as I started to hear various sounds coming from the room. Hoping against hope that Freddie was watching pornography, I shakingly opened the door. He wasn't watching a movie though, he was fucking that whore that lived across the street from him. I couldn't move, I stood there in shock. I felt like I could throw up and I also felt my stress level rising unbelievably. He was cheating on me… It was something he promised he would never do. Tears began to come to my eyes as I began to shake with anger and sobs.
"Freddie what the fuck are you doing!?" I screamed as horrible sobs also escaped my mouth.
I was shaking so much that I had to hold onto the doorway to keep from falling over. Hurt began to cloud my eyes and I knew when he looked into them he would see a woman who has just had her heart broken almost beyond repair.
I was in a funny situation right now. But the funniest thing was my lack of remorse. I felt no pain, nor did I feel bad for Aurora. I should've felt like a monster at this point. I should have felt some sort of pain, some sort of pity for the woman I was in love with. But to be honest I didn't even feel the love anymore. I couldn't feel any sort of emotion anymore. I felt nothing. I was simply a body. A body with a brain and little emotion. I was completely empty. I was no longer human. I was immortal. I was an immortal God, that would walk forever.
"Get the fuck out of here. Can't you see I'm in the middle of something!?!", I said, turning to Aurora with a cold stare.
I looked at him with my mouth dropped open in complete shock, I felt as though I was hyper-ventilating. He didn't care about me anymore. I clutched the bag with the newly bought purchases for our baby and held it tightly against my chest. I turned quickly and ran to the nearest bathroom where I fell to my knees in front of the toilet and began throwing up. As soon as I was finished I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and sat back against the wall to the side of the toilet and continued to cry. I wrapped my arms around my knees and brought them up to my chest. My whole body was trembling with horrible emotions.
How could he have gone from such a wonderful and caring human being into that monster I had just seen. I didn't know what to feel and for a split second I wanted to die. I looked up at the bathroom counter and saw a bottle of sleeping pills. Now if I were to take enough of them surely I would slip into a very deep sleep, one that I might never come out of. I shakingly stood up and stumbled over to the bottle. I picked it up and looked at it. As I began to undo the lid, something stopped me, it was my conscience.
"Aurora don't do this…", it started. "In doing this you are not only ending your own life but the life of that baby inside of you… No man should bring you to this point in your life. You have a child to think about now, a helpless little baby that needs it's mother."
I knew my conscience was right, I couldn't do this. I loved this baby and hated myself for even contemplating killing it and myself. I decided I needed to calm down and figure something out. This man that was in that bedroom now was not the man I fell in love with and created this child with. I had a new priority and it wasn't Freddie. I set the bag of things down on the counter and took the outfit I bought for the baby as well as the hat. I held them to my chest and wiped my eyes with my sleeves. I found in myself a sort of strength I knew I had all along. I gently put the things back into the bag and grabbed it by the handles. I walked to the room where Freddie was and stood outside of it, waiting for him to get done so I could confront him. Whether he liked it or not I was not going to let him yell at me like that again without yelling right back at him.
I wasn't going to wait for him though, as soon as I got up enough guts I marched into the room and dropped the bag to the floor. Feeling a sense of anger and rage I never had before, I glared at the two of them as Salem was riding my boyfriend. Releasing an enraged sigh, I marched over to her and grabbed her hair on the back of her head and roughly pulled her off of him to the floor. She stares up at me in pain as I had ripped out hunks of her dark hair. I then thought about kicking her in the stomach but decided not to. I dropped the hunks at my side and glared at Freddie, clenching my fists.
"Get this home-wrecking bitch out of here now Freddie. And I mean now."
I looked at him breathing heavily with anger and frustration.
I pushed Aurora away, sending her a message. Hopefully she understood I wasn't done with the task at hand. I sure hope she'd understand or else I'd be fucking Salem in front of her. I pulled Salem back on to the bed and turned to Aurora.
"End the bullshit Aurora. I'll be down when I'm done. Now get out of this room." I said with a stern glare. "Now where were we?", I said leaning in to kiss Salem.
I wasn't going to fight with him, for some reason I felt oddly calm. Of course I was hurting very badly but I needed to get out of the house. I knew I could stay with his friend Blake; Blake had always been so nice to me and had quickly become like the brother I never had. I walked over and picked up the bag of baby things. Sniffling exhaustedly, I turned to Freddie one last time as I made it to the door. In a very tired voice I began to speak to him.
"Don't even bother coming down because I won't be there. Until you hear differently, I'm staying with Blake…Also this day was going to be one filled with happiness because I was coming home to tell you that we're having a baby but obviously I don't matter to you anymore and I doubt this baby will either."
I then turned quickly and walked out of the room, down the stairs, and to the kitchen. I grabbed my purse and threw it over my shoulder. I looked around the house one last time before walking out of the house. I wasn't going to take one of his cars, Blake lived maybe ten miles away but I didn't care. I was going to walk there. It would be at Blake's house I figured out what I was going to do. I had mine and Freddie's child to think about now and that was what was most important to me.
Her words meant nothing to me at this moment, as I began to thrust in to Salem again. A baby. That thought would probably plague my thoughts. But I wasn't going to begin to ponder the possibility of it... yet.
It’s the silence that stills your soul, this time around. No puppets, scantily clad women, or intimidating fires as props, or mindless secondary characters.
No, not this time around. A different approach is truly noticed as the camera lens, the slightly hazed technological eyes, seemingly revel in this silence. A silence draped by concrete and steel. More specifically, an empty dimly-lit stairwell. Trimmed with steel safety railings, painted in burgundy, the simple, cold concrete stairs travel another floor up, and possibly, more than that. A light inside it’s plastic, rectangular scabbard displays it’s short circuit as we begin to travel down the flight like a bold drunkard show-off. You know this place well, for it's the same place that performed an amazing act of resuscitation on Scotty Lauren's career. A living deprivation chamber, this particular, nondescript stairwell reveals itself to be. Something, almost, from a fable's script. Sanctuary, abnormally, wrapping her arms around anyone who would spare only a few seconds of their time.
A ragged breath falls on her bare, concrete, ears
"Where...Where have you been? Why did you leave??" The owner of the haggard breath says with a twinge of mockery and disdain. Of course, his voice is familiar. He's worked here. Then again, you knew that didn't you - damned internet marks. Save the twenty minute resume` introduction for somebody who gives a shit, or someone who actually deserves it. The short-circuiting light flashes irregularly, blazing the building's trepidation upon the sad fellow that sits before you. His head hangs low, almost to the surface of the step below him. His black-clad knees, drawn up to his face and punctuated by black and white rubber that provides a decent rendezvous point for air play. On his folded-over person lays the threads of an unwashed, nondescript black hooded sweatshirt.
"What happened...to you?"
A harsh cough, one not at all expected, rips throughout the quaint contingency of the staircase. Some kind of answer, huh?
He seemed like an eerie kind of child-like with the large hood of his black sweatshirt playing the role of security blanket. Exposing only what is needed of him, in essence, to get this moment of sorely-needed air time...only to simulate a small retreat when the uneven blinking of the stairwell light comes his way.
"This is what I'm greeted with. Where have you been? What have you been doing? Twenty-five questions from some jilted love...and this is what I come home to?"
A pause brings the calm back to cement dep. tank. A rather unfulfilling pause...something lacking and out of place. With the pulsating light blaring uncontrollably in the background, he sits in his troubled rendition of Rodan's Thinker with his head propped half-heartedly in his slender, scarred hands. Stunning, what time can do to a man. The same man who took great joy and delight in berating his supposed equals, night after night, on live television. The same character who disclosed to a capacity audience his views on the whole 'there is no "I" in team' shite by unceremoniously ridding himself of his makeshift buddy-film partner. He probably enjoyed that one, too. Scratch that, he enjoyed it...would've wrote home to mom about it, but there's that whole 'dead' thing.
Though, tonight, something is lacking.
"Where have you been? WHERE have you been? When are you coming back??
A scoff bounces off the concrete walls.
"Those were the sixty-four million dollar questions. Plural. raises his hands on either side of his drooped head How about my wife and unborn child? How about you? Of course...there was nothing. drops his hands No, "it was a shame what happened to you." No, "how are you feeling?" There was no sympathy. Only, when ya gonna come back and bodyslam somebody!? When ya gonna come back and cuss somemore on T.V? When ya gonna dance like a monkey and get a golden belt?"
"What else should I have expected? Nobody ever gave a damn. No condolences and no empathy...then again, I don't know why I felt like I was going to get that. I don't know why I felt like I had actually earned that slim amount of respect from the company and, from the fans. I was fucking wrong, like always...but, of course, everybody wanted to know when I was coming back. WHEN MR BALLGAME was coming BACK!"
His pain, however buried, was becoming evident by the patronizing tone reverberating off the close-quartered concrete walls. A heavy sigh falls from his, equally, heavy soul as he brings a hand slowly to his eye level. The camera takes in the anger-filled pulsing veins that branch and dance around his index and middle fingers, tensed and formed into a humanoid claw. His breaths change, from the norm. The eerie calm that trademarked his character, his entire career...was gone. Painful heaves cause his torso to flux, which brings his cloaked head, forcefully, to his pair of ragged talons.
Never let 'em see you sweat, Fred...
"They didn't care about you. his head starts shakes to and fro, slowly The loving signs. The birthday cards. The fuckin' company bonding outings. The bastards never cared. You were just another dollar sign to them."
It seems like he's choking back the words, fighting off a most despicable of emotion with his bare, dark brown claws clutching at his face. Then, a raw, mucus-filled snort fills the confined area.
"It's always about the money, baby. We knew that, don't be naive. It's not you can anymore, can you? sighs, then a quick out-of-place laugh Furthermore, here you were praising the CWF. "The Council's way more gayer than the CWF", you said. At least, those bastards played like they gave some sort of a damn. Here, you didn't even get a couple of seconds. Here, the big fuckin' event was the turmoil of the CWF and the straying of the Golden Goose - an event so big, they even based a Pay per view off it. snorts The pigs. sniffles ...and of course, when's Fuck em up Freddie's coming back?"
A noticeable delay pauses this emotional scene on your television for a short moment while an CWF intern sits stewing in his own fluids due to the apparent nervous breakdown he's witnessing. The action continues with the footage catching up to the sight of the former, tag champion swaying his body to an invisible drum - his head still clamped inside his hands.
"Judas...formerly Dean Coulter. slight chuckle wants to irk me. All apart trying to make a buck off my good name, he's playing his role very convincingly. Then again, in a world where hypocrites and all-around douchebags - such as professional wrestling...small laugh his impetuous role might seem pristine to the masses. And OH, how I wish to be one of the mindless..! Unfortunately, I'm not...and I just wonder how much your blood-drained heart and chair-beaten brain have been tortured with that tweedle dumb ass Moontwat you're following."
You know he's smirking under that hood...or, at least, he wants to.
Another pause fills the stairwell for a short moment. Then, with both of his hands, he pushes back the large hood first exposing a full head of jet black dreads, flowing free and wild, not neatly twisted back. His face is trimmed with thin, voluminous sideburns ending at the butt of his chin with a hanging goatee. His eyes are rapt with redness, and his jaw line is quite rugged with a five o' clock shadow and his face is filled something unfamiliar to CWF fans. Emotion. Utter, raw, emotion - something so encompassing to be trivialized into word. He's not simply angry, relieved or sad, to say that would cheapen the visual being beamed throughout the world. To say that, it would cheapen the feelings displayed of an emotionally-drained example of man, feeling everything that humans are capable of feeling...at the most inappropriate moment in time possible.
"...and to answer your question, even though you already know by now. You'll see me come Evolution. sarcasm OH YES! MISTER BALLGAME WILL BE LIVE! end sarcasm For I've got nothing to hide. No promotion-shaking, crowd-popping craziness that'll rock your socks off. Just me, as you fuckin' requested, in some way shape or form. Hear that, Ouroboros? I'm gonna be standing front and center in the ring, to answer all the questions the world wants to ask. You want us Moontwat...you wanna rumble with the Aces again Judas...you got us, but your blood will flow for the cameras whether it's good for TV, or not. Call it a bluff, or not - It makes no difference to me. I just want you to keep in mind when's the last time Freddie didn't follow through with his word...? Take it as a threat or a promise, whatever you classify it as...take it...as... LAW."
"The concession stands are now selling those cheap hotel room round soap disks that I have personally blessed for $100’s a bar….AND SINNERS….I suggest you buy one, and use it, because if you think your God wants you in his heaven smelling like a 3am New York City uber ride you got another thing coming."