XWF∞

In the eye of the storm, on the brink of madness, lost and found. I do not fear what cannot touch me, what triggers my instability and insecurities of the unknown, lays within my own mind. The psychosis of paranoia and pandemic of fright. For the void within the confines of my skull, is a vast and endless abyss, far from empty and dwelling with demons, too terrifying to face. Yet will never disappear. Not completely.

A dark past I do not like to confront, yet I find washing over me like a tidal wave, strong enough to overtake with every slap of its wicked waters. These moments are brought forth at random and threaten to consume me. They come when I witness the depravity and degradation of the most sordid and sadistic sort. The putrid reek and foul stains on life. That exist in the darkest dregs and bowels of society and threaten to spread contamination and torment across the lands. With the promise of haunting and torturing the souls of beings, that find themselves caught in the wake and swallowed whole in the process. Innocents lost. To a vile virus of which there is no cure or vaccine, and does not kill the infected. You do not die. Instead you live with a monster in your head that resides, deep within your memories. 

Not always present at the cusp of thought but forever hiding in the shadows, waiting perpetually to strike. When least expected and promises to send you into a spiral. A whirlwind of mental anguish and despair. You are your worst enemy and savior at the same time because as much as you destroy yourself, you are the only one that can temporarily repair the damage and momentarily, mend your own mind. So you can function again and survive in spite of the suffering, you have previously endured. 

The glowing eyes of memory that never truly close, not even when you slumber. Not even the realm of dreams are safe. When you observe the things that force you to recall an evil  time in history, where you were once weak. It all comes flooding back and the images can't be changed or ceased, with the ease of operating a television. You are once again gazing, into the pool of contamination, sights showcasing an instant replay of events, of which you wish you had no recollection. 

It is a vicious cycle, for the world can be cruel, cold, treacherous and corrupt with sin. You can't avoid it either or know when it will strike, like a venomous snake sending its poison straight into your brain. You are not a victim and stronger than most will ever, even know, still you are not an emotionless robot and stuff will affect you, when you see what summons that which will never stop stalking you and cannot be erased or forgotten. 

Your past will always be your past. Despite your strength, you can still sink like a stone in the sea and sometimes... it is too much to bear the burden of your own weight, so you drop into that bottomless pit. Struggling to swim through the vast obsidian, till you fight your way up to the top and resurface. Rise to the top and pull yourself to safety. Once more. A survivor of secrets you will never share. 

I have many secrets of which... I shall never share...

 {{Oliver Last surges up with a start, gasping and his eyes open fully, all the way. Breathing heavily, he casts his sights about, scanning everything that surrounds him. He discovers himself in a lavish room of opulence and comfort. Bathed in solely the light of the moon, within a large bed, beneath Egyptian cotton sheets and a down feather comforter. His thoughts are hazy, he feels discombobulated and can't register the room or place that he's within. His memory isn't fully functioning properly, yet there is some familiarity to it. Swallowing hard, he moves himself slowly over and swings his legs out of the bed, struggling a bit with the covers. He rests his feet on the floor and groggily rises, shaking his head after he stands. Then stumbles to the door, barefoot but fully clothed. Oliver locates his boots on the floor, with the socks stuffed inside but he does not bother with them. Instead he simply reaches for the knob and pulls the door open, once he reaches it. Stepping out into a long hallway, on the other side.}}

"Hello?"

{{Oliver calls out, to no avail. For he is only met with silence. His footfalls the sole, solitary sound. And that isn't very loud. Yet, there is a faint light he observes, coming from somewhere beyond sight. Off in the distance. He follows that and moves through a darkened kitchen area and living room portion, set up in a true fashion as apartments are usually created to be. Finally, he lifts his eyes from the floor, when he reaches a pair of glass doors and sees... his brother, Donovan Blackwater.}}

{{The ever gentlest of knocks, stirs Donovan's immediate attention and when he sees his brother, he smiles. It's a welcoming smile. A smile that Oliver knows. Well. Gingerly, Oliver opens the door and softly closes it behind himself, before proceeding forward to the chair, positioned right in front of Donovan's desk. Sinking instantly into it, Donovan tosses a cigarette to him. Which he catches, right before a lighter comes flying his way. That he also swiftly grasps tight in the clutches of his left hand. Firing up the cigarette, he places the lighter onto the desk. Then gives his younger brother a grin and settles back in the chair, before exhaling a cloud of smoke.}}

I do my best to act natural and collected, despite wanting to tip straight forward and lay on the floor. My body is heavy with the weight of the enormous amount of drugs I ingested. Comedowns are a bitch. Still I think I played it cool. Cool enough, anyway. 

"Sooo... how are things?"

My brother Donovan. What can I say? He is everything, I am not. Perfectly enchanting. Like he should be an actor upon a stage, with a dauntingly, haunting voice and the looks to boot. Almost as if he emerged from the pages of a GQ magazine. Serious and thoughtful, yet unexpectedly funny. He has a habit of saying the most bizarre, wackball shit. He once told me he wanted an army of chipmunks and asked with absolute sincerity, how long did I believe it would take to train them? What is that? This man who wears the most expensive suits, tailor made I might add and dines in the fanciest of restaurants. He'll come out with the weirdest shit. That's a lot coming from me of all folks. Still, I love this guy, he has always defended and took care of me. Even when I don't ask, he's there. For instance... now. Almost like he's the older one in this scenario, minus the disapproval and condescending tone that comes from some siblings of mine. *cough, cough.* Lila.

{{Donovan dips his head forward a bit and chuckles, quietly.}}

"Good. I'm doing good. Working late... as usual, dealing with idiots that can't comprehend the concept of basic math or operate a standard, ordinary calculator but other than that, I can't complain."

"Yeah, that's why you make the big bucks, working as an accountant. All those morons with money to spare."

"And my stress level shoots through the roof. Oh well..."

{{Donovan then retrieves a glass bowl, from next to his laptop and hits it, promptly exhaling as he shuts the computer.}}

"At least there's always pot to cure that little issue of mine. For instance, I've been dreading the mere act of talking to this particular client I have, for days. He's not only dumb but he's also an asshole. You have to explain things like you're talking to a very, small child or else he gets instantly upset and starts losing his shit. It is insane. And super, overly dramatic. It's hard for me to handle, so I have to take certain measures to deal with him. Enough about all that though, that's just the stupid crap I have to endure and it is what it is. Life and the bullshit that comes with it. I'm far more interested in hearing about how you are doing? Why did you decide to do drugs, till the point of passing out and staying in a coma... for several days?"

"Several days?"

"Oh yes, multiple days and that's after, I went to your place and brought you back here."

"Ivy called you?"

"Someone had to!"

{{Donovan exclaims, eyes widening as he leans forward a tad, along with the emotional animation of his words yet just as rapidly as his initial reaction, he composes himself. With a sigh, he rests back in his seat.}}

"You know you can always call me. Talk to me. Tell me anything. There's zero judgement. I understand stress. I'd be having daily panic attacks still... to this very day, if I didn't self medicate with marijuana. At the same time, you can't lose yourself to the compulsion that comes with the kind of drugs, you indulge in. Understand. I'm not trying to talk down to you, I'm simply attempting to get to the bottom of what happened. So help me out here, okay? Cause I do care, you do realize that, right?"

"Yeah. I know that."

"If Lila were here, she would've had you carted off to some facility. That's not me. I feel like I can talk to you and figure it out cause I get that you enjoy your narcotics... I do, but that was way too much, even for you. Tell me what brought this incident about?"

I felt a metaphorical stone sink to the pit of my stomach and swallow hard.

"Lila knows?"

"No, I do not report to our sister, she drives me nuts when I am speaking to her normally, on a regular basis. Everything is so fucking dramatic. I am not going to start telling her stuff to purposely make her lose her damn mind and start screaming at me. However, Frankie knows, she's my wife, she lives here, it would be difficult to keep it a secret and Dad does too but that's it."

"Dad. You told Dad?"

"Yes, I called him. In hindsight, that more than likely means Rebel has heard about it but I'm sure our father was doing nothing more, than sharing something that bothered him. So don't be cross with him if he did."

"I'm not. I get it. I do."

{{Pause.}}

"What did he say, how did he act, what happened?"

"He was concerned. That's about it. You know Azrael, he doesn't judge any of us harshly. He worries. Especially, now that he doesn't have powers but beyond that, he tries to keep an open mind and take in the big picture. Which I am also trying to do here, now... with you. Comprehend the scenario."

{{Oliver sighs and takes a drag from his cigarette'."}}

"Alright. There was this video."

"Video?  Like from The Ring? Is a small girl going to climb out of the television and slowly lurch over to kill you? Cause I hate to break it to you, but you were knocked out for several days there and you only have a couple of days left. If that's what happened. Wow. You gotta get on copying it and distributing it out into the world, in order to break the curse and we don't even have video stores anymore. You're going to have to use Youtube or something. Ha! Maybe Ezra can help you hack into Netflix and put it there."

"It's not like that, there was this promotional video footage released from this wrestling federation, I witnessed it and it was traumatizing, there was  some real sick shit in it and it fucked with my head. I couldn't sleep unless I virtually, knocked myself out."

"Yeah, Ivy mentioned something like that but I assumed she was confused cause that doesn't make sense. What did this video footage contain?"

{{Deep breath.}}

"Incest and child porn. Framing a parent for rape. It was all relayed in words... a retelling of events but it got very graphic. Like being in the room when it happened."

{{Donovan is hitting the bowl again and instantaneously, begins gagging violently, drops the bowl... actually, it's more like it flies out of his hand, hits the wall, falls and pot spills out all over the floor as an expression of pure disgust, crosses his face.}}

"What the actual fuck?!?! Why??? Why does that exist? Who would release such a thing?"

"I don't know, I unplugged the tv before that could be revealed. I imagine someone twisted in the head. I scarcely remember it to be honest but what I do recall is bad. Real bad. I can't fucking sleep because of it."

"Okay, well remember it is only a video, it can't hurt you and you're here now, we'll get this sorted out. Find a solution that doesn't involve an overdose. You should probably stay here for the time being. Just to be safe. Plus Dad's coming by tomorrow and I know, he'll want to see you. Perhaps, he could even process all this better and even, figure out an answer to your problem. Everything is going to be fine, you'll see."

{{A quick glance allows Donovan to perceive, his bowl didn't only soar out of his hand and crash into the wall, before plummeting to the floor, thus spilling it's contents onto the carpeting but it also appears to be broken. In half. See, Donovan has force wave powers and sometimes they flair up, when he becomes troubled or disturbed. Which resulted in the extra burst of energy that sent the bowl flying, with enough power to crack the thing in two. The sight of it causes Donovan to sigh and shake his head. In sheer, utter defeat.}}

"Fucking Croaton, strikes again."

{{Oliver states, summoning a look of confusion upon Donovan's face as he tilts his head; however, he decides it's best, not to question his brother's words and stays silent. Chalking it up to the massive amount of drugs Oliver took and nothing more.}}

"We walk forward, mere travelers embarking across the great divide. Past meets present and visa versa. Vis-à-vis. In Omnia Paratus. Ready for anything. Marching forward, face first into the fray, once more. But what does that truly, entail and mean to you? What are you willing to do, in the wake of battle? Ever since joining this company, this band of misfits and freaks, I've asked myself these very questions. The answer is I don't know. We test ourselves and take on challenges to bring forth this knowledge. Otherwise, why even get outta bed in the morning, am I right? Everyday is a risk, for we never know what lays in wait, in that there resides the gamble and I am a fan of games of chance. Yet there was never really, too much at stake, till now."

"I climb in that ring and I don't know what will happen, I am placing myself in danger but there lies the beauty of this sport and why, I joined this federation. The unknown factor. For the first time ever, I can't predict the outcome, not out rightly. No. All I can do is take a chance, blow on those dice and send them rolling. And that's the thrill that I adore. However, I can say this with absolute sincerity, I will do everything in my power to be the man that stands victorious. The odds are stacked against me. Rather heavily and still, I toss my chips down, awaiting the burn and turn of the deck. With that being said, this is far more dangerous, than a simple game of cards. Yet not quite Russian roulette either. This is a whole different sort of beast and one wrong move, one mistake could be my last. I won't let that stop me though. C'mon, where's the fun in that?"

"Now my opponent, Scully has wrestled before and there's a championship belt at stake. The Frenzy Championship. He has experience in the ring, years of previous bouts and fights that he participated in. While I do not. He's also taller than I am and outweighs me by a lot. Still, I have my own advantages, I'm quick and extremely agile, when I need to be and I intend to use those aspects. I will make that man work for my destruction and I'm willing to bet, I have a lot more energy than him. He's going to get tired and that will be his downfall. That is when I will strike and take him down. That's the plan anyway. I am a gambling man and I think, it's worth the wager. The stakes are worth it and wouldn't it be fucking fantastic, if I pull this off and become a champion. In this world of giants and behemoths, I win and claim the prize. I think so and that is what will push me to do precisely that. With zero hesitation."

"Also, I heard through the grapevine, Scully used to be retarded. Is that true, Scully? Cause I don't think that condition simply goes away or stops being a thing. Some 'Flowers for Algernon' shit. Dude... that was a work of fiction. A short story, written in 1958 and first published in the April 1959 issue of The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction. Charlie Gordon wasn't real. Were you faking it? Being mentally challenged, were you merely pretending because that's fucking messed up."

"Whatever. Till next time, Charlie... I mean, Scully."