Post by Rated R on Jun 3, 2015 16:20:54 GMT -5
Revelation Road
You Don’t Know Anything; Act One
A Trace Demon Roleplay
There’s one question everybody seems to be asking me right now. Why Trace, why oh why did you help Nikki Dean? Why oh why did you go out there and save a girl who worked with the Saviours of Salvation to bring you down? Why oh why did you risk your already busted up body to save a girl like her?
I don’t blame any of you, it’s a damn good question.
I’m not exactly known for giving a damn about other people. My business is the only thing that matters to me and I only deal with people if it benefits me in some way. You’ve got to be proactive in eliminating threats sure, but if somebody isn’t a threat and never will be then why bother with them in the first place? No need to cause torment for the sake of it, just when the situation calls for it. I’m no monster, despite what you all think, I’m a businessman who knows that sometimes you’ve got to do monstrous things to get business done. At the end of the day business, be it family, industry or wrestling, is the only thing that matters.
Which brings us back to the big question. Why did I help Nikki Dean? Helping her didn’t help me, I don’t give a damn about this tag tournament. I’ve been tag team champion before and I didn’t much care for it and after Bishop’s stupidity I’ve got even less love for trusting someone else to get the job done than ever. I’m the owner of the WFWF, I could of backed out of this tournament with barely a bad word said against me. I’ve got nothing invested in this tournament, no interests to protect, and I sure as hell have no love lost for Nikki Dean of all people. It makes no sense, none at all.
Why oh why did I help Nikki Dean?
Like I said, it’s a damn good question.
< *** >
Demon Residence; Los Angeles
May 28th 2015; 10:53
I’ve not been myself recently.
I don’t know exactly how to describe it, it’s as if my thoughts haven’t been my own. In the build-up to my match with Bishop it’s like I lost myself, overwhelmed my everybody around me. Their voices drowning out my own. Then there was that whole thing with Nikki f*****g Dean. What came over me, what possessed me to run out there and save her skin. My head’s cloudier than it’s ever been and I’ve got no explanation for any of it. This trip is as much for me as it is for Alexa.
Alexa Munroe: I still don’t think this is a good idea.
Trace Demon: The girl wants to see her mom, simple as that.
Alexa Munroe: I didn’t mean her, I meant you. You’ve not been yourself ever since you stopped that frumpy girl from being double teamed by creepy Kyzer and the other guy, what’s his name? The one who just screams rapist?
Trace Demon: Ante Whitner.
Alexa Munroe: That’s the one.
Alexa’s never had much of an interest in wrestling, but she still checks out the shows. She wants to make sure I’m not doing anything too stupid, y’know, because being thrown over a staircase is no big deal.
Trace Demon: Nothing’s wrong with me, alright. Probably just still recovering from all the blood loss is all.
Alexa Munroe: Because that qualifies you to be taking an across-state road trip.
Trace Demon: Oh stop worrying about me alright, I’ve driven two hundred miles between shows with a broken foot. You know how hard it is to control a clutch with a broken foot?
Alexa Munroe: About as hard as it is to talk you out of anything I bet.
Trace Demon: Pretty close. Where is the girl anyway, we were meant to leave twenty minutes ago. And if I lean against the side of this car for much longer then I’m going to stop looking like a cool extra from some CW drama series.
Alexa Munroe: She’s probably still up there playing big spoon with your sister.
Emily and Caitlyn still think we don’t know about their whole secret lesbian love affair, but it’s hard not to know about something when you can hear it from halfway across a small mansion. I’ll tell you, nothing kills the thrill of lesbian sex than knowing your little sister is having it under the same roof as you.
Alexa Munroe: Just go up there and get her.
Trace Demon: I’m not going into their love shack, you go in there and get her.
Alexa Munroe: God no, if I walk in there and they’re getting hot and heavy then the next few days is just me, a toddler, a nanny and a very awkward teenage girl.
Trace Demon: If I walk in there then it’s me and a very awkward and angsty teenage girl stuck inside a car for however many miles.
Alexa Munroe: Touché.
It’s like some weird spaghetti western face off except with less guns and more lesbian sex.
Caitlyn Lucia: Sorry, sorry! I couldn’t find my phone!
She runs out of the house and towards us and we both pretend that we don’t see Emily watching her go in just a dressing gown from her bedroom window.
Trace Demon: Get in the car already!
Caitlyn Lucia: Alright, god chill out already.
She heads round to the passenger’s side and I wonder what I’ve got myself into. We’re doing this for a good reason, that much I understand. Her mom’s boyfriend turned up trying to extort money out of me and ended up having an unfortunate accident. The guy’s brain dead and isn’t waking up any time soon. Turns out that’s the kind of thing that makes you want to head back home and check in on your dead old mom. Can’t say I can relate to that.
Alexa Munroe: Don’t do anything stupid, okay. I don’t want you coming back here in a police car or something.
Trace Demon: When have you known me to do anything stupid? Okay, don’t answer that.
Soft hands meet my face, not put off one bit by the beard that has grown more out of a disinterest in shaving than any kind of fashion statement. And then comes the knocking on the inside of the car window.
Caitlyn Lucia: If you keep going I’m going to throw up in your car.
Alexa Munroe: Have fun.
I take a moment to watch her walk away, bseatecause don’t ever let anybody tell you that great tits come close to the perfect ass. Then I, somewhat regretfully, duck into the driver’s seat of the Mercedes, because there’s no shame in showing off now and then and take my place beside the girl I’ll be sharing a car with for the next two to three days.
Caitlyn Lucia: Let’s get moving already grandpa!
I’m starting to regret this already.
< *** >
Interstate 10
May 28th 2015; 17:31
The trip from Los Angeles to Galveson is f*****g fifteen hundred miles straight down Interstate 10, a good old fashioned twenty plus hour journey. We’re seven hours in and I’m already feeling the burn. I know there’s a motel at the twelve hour mark so I’ve just got to keep on moving till then. The time was I did these kinds of journeys for fun, nowadays less and less so. Big money means busy days, and busy days mean less driving and more flying.
I hate f*****g flying, first class isn’t my style but anywhere else you’re surrounded by the most annoying people I can imagine. But right now I remember why it’s easier, and it isn’t the time issue, it’s the wear and tear. The pain from my match with Bishop hasn’t quite left me yet. Me knee feels like it’s in pieces, my head is still killing me even though I’ve had the stitches out for days now and I don’t think all the thumbtack holes in my back have quite healed over. Makes you wonder why I keep trying to use those things, it never seems to pay off.
But the pain, like all the pain that’s come before it, will be worth it.
Caitlyn Lucia: So what’s in the folder?
God it had better be worth it.
Caitlyn Lucia: Come on, I saw you tuck that folder into your bag before we left, what’s the deal?
Trace Demon: It’s a folder; it’s got papers in it. I run a business, businesses involve lots of paper. Hence, I need a folder to hold all my business related paper.
Caitlyn Lucia: Bullsh*t.
I’m twenty eight years old, prime of my life, back in the day I figured I’d still be drinking, knocking back pills and sleeping with strange at this point. Instead I run a business, am in a committed relationship and responsible not just for a three year old of my own making but a seventeen year old half-sister and now an eighteen year old runaway.
Where the f**k did I go so wrong?
Caitlyn Lucia: I’ve been here what, eight months now? And I’ve never seen you with a folder or any kind of paperwork, not once. You don’t ever bring work home with you, and now all of a sudden you’ve got a folder?
Trace Demon: I’m not seeing the big deal.
Caitlyn Lucia: A folder that you haven’t let out of your sight for like nearly a month. You’re not that committed to work, whatever you’ve got in there it’s got to be juicy.
I try to drown her out, focus in on the road, block out the pain running through my body and the jumbled thoughts running through my mind. Every time I think my life is finally in hand it falls away once more, like drama is part of my nature. It was true, that this journey, down this long endless bloody road, is as much for me as for Caitlyn. But whereas she knows exactly what she hopes to find at the end of it I have no idea what’s waiting for me.
Caitlyn Lucia: Oi!
Trace Demon: I’m trying to drive!
Caitlyn Lucia: It’s a bloody interstate; it’s not exactly a difficult road y’know.
Trace Demon: Your point?
Caitlyn Lucia: What’s in the folder?!
Again I offer no answer.
Caitlyn Lucia: I’m not going to stop asking y’know, not until you-
Trace Demon: How long have you and Emily been hooking up?
And just like that she stops asking. Knowing which buttons to push, knowing how to silence someone, that’s as valuable as knowing how to win a match.
Caitlyn Lucia: Wh- what?
Trace Demon: My sister, how long have the two of you been sleeping together?
Caitlyn Lucia: I don’t… I mean I’m not… we’re not…
Trace Demon: I’m f*****g with you.
Caitlyn Lucia: You’re what?
The look of shocked horror on her face can’t help but bring a smirk to mine.
Trace Demon: I don’t give a s**t if the two of you are hooking up. Emily’s a smart girl, if she thinks you’re worth liking then I’m not going to second guess her. I mean I don’t see it, who falls for someone as punk rock looking, reckless and unpredictable as you?
Caitlyn Lucia: Ask Alexa.
Trace Demon: Fair point.
Caitlyn Lucia: Trace?
Trace Demon: Yeah?
Caitlyn Lucia: Thanks.
I don’t need to ask whether she’s thanking me for accepting her and Emily’s weird little romance or for tagging along on this little road trip of hers. It’s all the same, as much as most people know me only for the horrific and manipulative things I have done they don’t see the person I am behind closed doors. They don’t see the family, the three year old daughter I care for so deeply or the half-sister I’ve become the legal guardian of. They don’t see the runaway that I took in to no benefit to myself, not the ex-priest that I spent two years bailing out of addiction related nightmares. They see a monster because that’s all they need to see.
Trace Demon: So when are you going to admit that you’re nervous as hell?
Caitlyn Lucia: I’m not nervous.
Trace Demon: Oh please, you’re not nervous? We’re driving twenty hours across state borders to find your mom who you haven’t seen in a year, you’ve got no idea what you’re going to say to her when you get there, no idea what she’s going to say when she sees you, you still can’t decide whether this is a good idea or not. If you’re not nervous then you’re a f*****g robot.
I’ve hit a chord, if anything I’ve made it worse for her by adding a voice to her fears.
Trace Demon: Look, it’s fine to be nervous about something you can’t control like this, just don’t let those nerves psyche you out. All these people who think fear of the unknown is a bad thing don’t know s**t. Fear of the unknown is what makes you think, it’s what keeps you on your toes. If there’s one thing I can teach you it’s that you should never get comfortable, always be on edge, always be ready. You can’t predict anything, there’s always a wild card, always something waiting in the shadows. You think you know how the world works and then boom, f*****g nuclear bomb hits and you’re overrun by zombies.
Okay, getting a little off topic.
Trace Demon: There’s times in life when you won’t have all the answers. Hell you might not even know the questions, but you never let your guard down and you never stop being ready. Stay nervous, stay fearful, but only because you’ve got to use that to figure out exactly how you’re going to drop the unknown when it comes calling. All those people out there who think you’re crazy for never letting your guard down, they’re the ones who’ll drift through life without any idea of the real questions they should be asking and you, well you’re the one who’ll find the answers.
< *** >
Madra Motel; Just Off Interstate 10
May 28th 2015; 23:11
The shower is like paradise after ten hours of driving. The closer we’ve gotten to Galveston the worse the heat has got and the worse the heat has got the more my body has rebelled against me in the name of pain. I dry off, throw a pair of shorts on and then collapse onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling in a moment of peace. After ten hours of driving you run out of things to talk about but the silence that develops inside a car is different to this. That’s awkward, silence between two people who have been shut up together for too long. This is silence for the mind, a chance to decompress.
If only my mind would let me do so.
When I first started training to be a wrestler I realized that I had to always be ahead of my opponent. I had to be thinking constantly, assessing the variables, figuring out ways to counter anything they could throw at me. And not just in the ring. My speech to Caitlyn about never letting your guard down wasn’t just hollow words to comfort; they’re words I live by. I trained myself to never switch off, to always be thinking, even if my body is in one place a part of my mind is somewhere else, buried away, streaming a thousand possibilities and thoughts at any one second. Always calculation, always planning, always figuring it all out. It works, even when I don’t realize I’m doing it I know full well that a part of my sub-conscious mind is solving the problem, coming up with the solution and pushing it to the forefront just as I need it. It never fails.
But it also never stops.
As I lay here I can feel it in effect, I can feel my mind working overtime on every problem that could possibly present itself. But it’s one problem in particular, one question that I just can’t figure out. Nikki Dean, why oh why.
I grab my bag from the side, opening it up and pulling out the thin brown folder. Caitlyn was right, this isn’t my style, a f****g folder, like I care enough about work for that. I open it up, spreading out the contents on the bed. A host of photographs and profiles on nearly a dozen different WFWF wrestlers past and present. All with one thing in common. At one point or another I considered them allies.
Thunder. Saku. Reckless. Back during my original run as acting director of the WFWF these three were my pawns, the men I used to keep myself in power. Saku and Reckless turned out to be nothing special, men with promise who faded out before they could ever really realize it. But Thunder… Thunder was different. A legend of the WFWF and the only man I have ever trusted enough to make a real run at the WFWF Tag Team Championships. And not just a run at them, we won them. Trace Demon, tag teams champion. That was the only time that was ever said. I never much cared for it.
Wayne McGurk. Scarlett Quinn. Penny Shannon. There are very few people outside my own family who were as close to me as they were, Wayne and Vanessa helped me out when nobody else would, they welcomed me with open, if somewhat regretful, arms. Wayne was like a brother to me, Scarlett like a niece, Penny like that weird stoner cousin nobody wants to invite around for dinner. Wayne and I had our wrestling school, Scarlett grew to such a level that she unseated Phillip Schneider of all people for the WFWF World Heavyweight Championship and Penny was running roughshod over the entire WFWF. They trusted me and I them.
Joe Bishop. Jason Anders. Kyle Matthews. My Final Revolution. Three likeminded individuals who recognised the tyranny of our dear general manager Lila Sleater. Three men who, like myself, were willing to do unspeakable things to try and save the WFWF from being torn apart by a woman consumed by greed and pride. They trusted me and in return I turned them into a force to be reckoned with. Anders got the power he so wanted, Matthews got the opportunity to learn from the best and Joe Bishop became the International Champion. Their glory was my glory, and we were going to change everything.
There were others, but they all ended the same. It fell apart, every single time. Thunder faded from the spotlight, Saku and Reckless vanished full stop. I broke Penny’s spirit, broke Scarlett’s body and broke Wayne’s trust. And then there’s Joe Bishop… the one man who had the nerve to turn his back on me and in term lead to Anders and Matthews removal from any kind of relevancy. All of this proved one thing.
You cannot offer trust to anybody with ambitions that conflict with your own. There isn’t a single person out there who doesn’t want what’s best for themselves, not one, it’s just a matter of what they’re willing to do, how far they’re willing to go. Me? I’ll do anything, hurt anybody, do monstrous things in the name of the greater good. The greater good for Trace Demon that is.
As I stare at the images of my former friends, former partners, former loosely called acquaintances, I wonder to myself what it is about Nikki Dean that makes her any different. At lease these faces offered something to me, at least their interests aided my own. Nikki Dean offers nothing. I don’t give a damn about the Tag Team Championships, I don’t want to be part of some team, I don’t want to have to rely on somebody else week in and week out. There is a difference between a pawn and a partner. All of these people, these memories spread out in front of me, they were all expendable. A partner, a true, real, championship chasing tag team partner is anything but.
I don’t want to be in this tournament. If I had let things run their course and let Kyzer and Ante double team Nikki to their hearts content then she would be in no state to compete and I would be off the hook without even having to lift a finger. I could focus on the important things, saving the WFWF, the World Championship, my own career, anything but this pathetic excuse for a tournament. The best thing for me would be if Nikki Dean had been left in a pool of blood. So why is it that I was the one who stopped that from happening?
What is it that my mind is trying to tell me? Has it figured out the answer already, only I’ve not caught up yet? Is there something I’m missing? Why oh why did I save Nikki Dean?
And why am I so conflicted?
< *** >
Lucia Residence
Galveston, Texas
May 29th 2015; 15:21
We rise early to hit the remaining eight hour drive, arriving just as the sun is shining highest in the sky, the Texan heat raining down upon the land as if we’re just ants in a pressure cooker. I come from Canada so give me ice and snow any day over the stickiness of this bloody sun. At least it’s not the beach, god damn beaches, sand is just a sh*t version of snow.
Trace Demon: This the place?
Caitlyn Lucia: Yeah, this is home I guess.
Not quite sure what I was expecting, but this is much more suburban than I pegged Caitlyn for. Guess it makes sense, the girl was always rebelling against something, I just thought it was her crap mother, not her whole lifestyle.
Trace Demon: You ready?
She offers a nod. The nerves are still there, the fear evident in her eyes and posture; she moves with someone filled with trepidation as we pull up outside the one floor home.
Trace Demon: I can come with you if you want?
Caitlyn Lucia: No, I need to do this on my own.
She makes her own way up towards the front of the house and I crank the AC up in the car to try and get some feeling that isn’t stickiness. There’s a “for sale” sign stuck into the lawn, with the name of some Texan housing company plastered over it. Caitlyn didn’t say anything about them selling up so I’m guessing this has popped up some time since she legged it. I can see her knocking on the front door and waiting there for some answer that doesn’t come. She knocks again, still nothing. She shouts through the letter box but it still doesn’t look like anyone’s home. As she peers through the windows at the front I exit out into the atrocious heat, the humidity smacking me clean in the face, and walk up towards the house.
Trace Demon: No luck?
Caitlyn Lucia: The whole house looks empty, not even any furniture in there. I think she took off or…
She trails off, probably thinking of the worst possible scenario. Her mom’s boyfriend Alan was a real piece of work, wouldn’t put it past him to… no, don’t want to drag myself down as well, got to keep her hopeful.
Trace Demon: She probably just moved to make sure Alan couldn’t find her when he came back. Not that he ever did.
Surprisingly that doesn’t reassure her.
Mrs. McCall: Caitlyn, is that you?
The voice comes from a woman in her mid-forties from the next house along. She’s nothing special, pretty in a kind of bland way. Exactly what you’d expect from suburbia.
Caitlyn Lucia: Mrs. McCall?
Mrs. McCall: Oh Caitlyn, I wasn’t expecting to see you again, I thought you’d left a year ago.
Caitlyn Lucia: I did but… do you know where my mom is? Is she okay?
Mrs. McCall: Well dear, um…
She trails off, knows something she doesn’t want to share. That’s probably not a good sign, right?
Caitlyn Lucia: Where’s my mom, did something happen to her, is she okay?
Mrs. McCall: She’s… she’s still around Caitlyn, but she lost the house, couldn’t pay the mortgage on it so the bank repossessed the place.
That explains why that sh*theel came rocking up trying to extort money out of me. Guy like that, bet he couldn’t believe it when he lucked into this whole family setup, house and all. Then Caitlyn ran off, then the house went, no way he wanted to let it all slip out of his fingers without getting something for his efforts.
Caitlyn Lucia: Do you know where she’s gone?
Mrs. McCall: I do, but you’re not going to like it Cait.
< *** >
Trailer Park
Galveston, Texas
May 29th 2015; 16:45
For man like myself it’s amazing I’ve had so little experience with trailer parks before. I can’t say I intend to make it a habit, this place is the pits. Course I’ve got no ill will to the people here, a lot of them are probably as hard working as anyone else, but then there’s a few I’ve spotted as we’ve walked through the place that are the total opposite, just here because they can’t deal with getting a real job and actually making something of themselves. There are few things worse than people who are happy being pathetic layabouts their whole life.
Trace Demon: You sure this is the place? It’s not exactly prime retail.
Caitlyn Lucia: This is where Mrs. McCall said mom had gone. God, things must of gotten really bad.
Caitlyn’s never been too forthcoming with details on her mom before but I know the basics, and from what she’s told me then she’s probably right, things must be bad. The way she sold it her mom was a hard worker, a secretary for some legal firm that did a lot of work with troubled youths. It’s a crying shame that work ethic didn’t extend to her own home, maybe if it did she would have done something about the kind of things that bastard put Caitlyn through.
Caitlyn Lucia: I think she said this one.
We stop outside a particularly unspectacular looking trailer, “106”, definitely the right number. With any luck Caitlyn’s mom will be inside, or maybe the lucky thing would be that she isn’t here. I’m not too sure anymore.
Trace Demon: You sure you still want to do this alone?
Caitlyn Lucia: Can’t be having an anime looking thirty year old fighting my battles for me can I.
Trace Demon: Twenty eight thank you very much.
She’s putting on a brave face but she’s even worse than at the house. Knowing where her mom is, knowing how bad it has to be for her to even be here, even just the extra time waiting around, it’s all gotten to her.
Trace Demon: Go and get her kid.
Caitlyn Lucia: I’m not a kid.
She smiles as she says it, appreciates the encouragement even if it doesn’t really help all that much. I stay back as she heads up, knocking on the door, hearing someone call from inside and then opening it up and entering. The door closes behind and I’m left out of the action once again. I feel awkward, stood outside in a trailer park, the sun baking down on top of me, unable to do anything but look cool and sweaty at the same time.
Loser: Hey, hey man. You looking for some gear.
I turn on the spot to see myself far too close to some cokehead for my liking. He’s a loser, no other word to describe him, a man of no moral fibre but not enough brains to do anything with that lack of morality. A terrible combination.
Trace Demon: What?
Loser: Guy like you, hair like that, you’ve got to be looking for a good time right.
For a second I wonder whether he’s propositioning me, flattered but not interested, but then he holds up a bag of powder and my original suspicions were correct. A total addict.
Loser: Come on, what’ll it be?
Trace Demon: You got a family kid?
Loser: What? Nah man I ain’t got no need for ‘dem parentals. I’m a self-made man see, don’t need none of that suburban sh*t.
Not entirely sure what language he’s speaking, certainly not any English I know, but I’m smart enough to decipher what he’s trying to say.
Trace Demon: You know that’s good to hear, I’d hate to think how disappointed they’d be to see their son throwing his life away.
Loser: You what mate?
Trace Demon: Okay firstly, I am not your mate. Secondly I said they’d be disappointed to see you. You mentioned suburbia right, so you’re from a good neighbourhood. Did you get fiddled with as a kid? Beat about maybe?
Loser: What? Nah man ain’t nobody messed with me, who the f*ck you think you are?
It’s like having a conversation with Yukio Blaze. Words are coming out of his mouth but he’s not actually saying anything worth hearing.
Trace Demon: So you’re from a good family to boot, yet here you are peddling that crap that’s clearly cut with baking powder. Now if your family were something terrible I’d give you a pass, but from what I can tell they’re not, so the real question is who the f*ck do you think you are? Walking around like you’ve got something to be proud of when really every action you take is just another spit in the face of the people who cared about you. Family is the only thing worth fighting for, family is the only thing you can trust and here you are pissing on their hard work. The only self-made thing about you is that you’re a self-made disappointment.
Loser: You son of a-
Trace Demon: Oh please.
I see him go for a knife in his belt but his hands are shaking from his last hit and he’s far too slow. My first shot connects with his gut, right between the ribs, doubling him over, and the second makes contact with his jaw. He topples to the ground in a heap, the knife sliding to my feet. I pick it up, damn thing’s too blunt to even do anything in the first place.
Trace Demon: You my poor pathetic friend should have a little more respect for your elders.
I don’t get much time to revel in the fun turn today has taken as something comes crashing through one of the trailer windows from behind me. Is that a toaster? That’s a cliché right, a toaster through a trailer window has to be a cliché. Caitlyn comes storming out through the door, fury in her face, and a loud voice echoes out from behind her.
Nina Lucia: You’re the reason he left, he left me because of you you little b***h.
From behind Caitlyn a woman just as pathetic looking as the young man behind me steps out in nothing but a dressing gown. I recognise the signs of a crack addict the moment I set my sights on her, the skin, the bloodshot eyes, the teeth. My god the teeth. Crack was the one drug I never did see the appeal of, who wants to destroy their teeth like that?
Caitlyn Lucia: And I’m leaving because you’re a crack addled whore, what’s your point?!
She marches straight on past me, her mother still screaming obscenities from the doorway. I look back down at the pathetic would-be dealer who’s holding his gut, his jaw jutting out a little more than it’s meant to. Oops.
Trace Demon: See if you’re mom was like that then you’d be forgiven for being a waste of space.
Well, maybe.
< *** >
Gala Diner
Galveston, Texas
May 29th 2015; 19:21
Trace Demon: We’ll set up somewhere here tonight, take off early in the morning. Do the whole thing in one go. Maybe I’ll let you drive for a bit.
She isn’t listening, just sits there opposite me playing with her scrambled eggs. It’s got to be cold by now, not that she cares. Hasn’t had a bite, more fool her, these eggs are awesome. Who knew Texas could do anything that wasn’t meat related. Still, hard to enjoy it looking at the most miserable face in all of history.
Trace Demon: Crack addled whore eh, you should write a book, vocab like that.
Caitlyn Lucia: You’re not funny.
Trace Demon: Shame, I’m meant to do stand-up next week.
Comedy isn’t going to work here, not that anyone has ever called me a great comedian anyway. Time to take a more direct route.
Trace Demon: You going to tell me what happened in there?
Caitlyn Lucia: No.
Trace Demon: You know I’m not going to let it drop. No way I’m driving another twenty hours with you like this. I get enough angst back home and that’s about a thousand times bigger than the car.
Caitlyn Lucia: She said I was the reason Alan left her.
Trace Demon: And you didn’t tell her otherwise?
Caitlyn Lucia: What was I meant to say? He came looking for money and this guy I’m living with beat him into a coma?
I’d like to point out that I have never been linked to any baseball bat related beatings outside of the confined environement of the WFWF. And that’s the statement I’ll be sticking to for the foreseeable future.
Caitlyn Lucia: Mom was never that strong, but drugs man. She never touched the stuff even when that bunghole would light up in the house. I think when I ran off it broke her, maybe she’s right, maybe I screwed her up.
Trace Demon: Woman like that was screwed up long before you ran off kid. I’m not saying she’s a bad person, but the way I see it it’s hard to sympathise for someone who goes that far down the drug addled rabbit hole.
Caitlyn Lucia: Wasn’t that your whole scene way back?
Trace Demon: How do you think I know what I’m talking about?
It’s no big secret, not from anybody who pays attention, doesn’t even need much research to be honest. I’m amazed I’m still alive sometimes the things I’ve taken, the things I’ve done.
Trace Demon: Unless someone held her down and made her snort something against her will the plain and simple truth is that she was weak. Same as I was, same as anybody else is. I told you before that fear isn’t a weakness, but giving in to fear, letting it take over you? That’s weakness. Hiding behind drugs or alcohol or money or anything, that’s weakness. People who stand there and make excuses, people who preach about their difficult life and how that’s why they’re a mess… I’m sick of it. Look you want to stand there and destroy your own life then fine, be my guest, but you turn your back on a family that loves and cares about you and you don’t deserve sympathy.
Caitlyn Lucia: Isn’t that what I did though?
Trace Demon: You got out of a bad situation. You didn’t turn your back on anyone Cait, she turned her back on you the moment she let him do what he did to you, and don’t you think for a second that anything else is the truth.
Caitlyn Lucia: I guess you’re right.
Trace Demon: I usually am.
Caitlyn Lucia: Debatable.
She smiles. It’s the smallest of smiles, but it’s a step in the right direction. The kid is tough, and she knows now that she’s got support. She’ll get through this. She’ll leave this place behind her, forget about her mom the very same way I did when I was her age. I could tell her no to, I could tell her to stay behind and help, to make sure she gets help, but I’m not going to do that. Because her mom’s weak, and I’ve no time for the weak. Does that make me heartless, or does that make me pragmatic? I know which one I’m leaning towards.
Trace Demon: Look, let’s get out of here and leave this place in the rear view. Let’s get back to Alexa and Emily and Eliza. Let’s go back home.
Caitlyn Lucia: This was meant to be my home.
Trace Demon: Come on, who wants to live in this bloody heat anyway? Seriously, I’m sweating in places I didn’t even know I could sweat.
Caitlyn Lucia: You don’t have to say everything you think y’know.
Trace Demon: You’ve got a home kid, it’s just not here.
Caitlyn Lucia: When did you grow a heart eh?
When indeed. When did I start caring about people, when did I start helping and when the f**k did I grow a soul. Huh, right around the same time as I…
Bingo.
Trace Demon: You mind if we take a detour?
< *** >
The Dean Residence
May 30th 2015; 16:43
Caitlyn Lucia: This the place?
Trace Demon: Yeah.
Caitlyn Lucia: Think you’re a little late to the party.
She’s not wrong. As we pull up towards the house it’s clear to see that she’s already involved in some kind of argument. I recognise the guy from the paperwork that landed on my desk this week. Anything legal related goes on with my roster and I make sure to know about it, so the moment that custody order went through I knew. There’s no doubt in my mind, that’s Nikki’s ex-husband, and he does not look like he’s in a pleasant mood.
Caitlyn Lucia: That’s the woman? The one you’re meant to team with? She doesn’t look like much. Bad luck man.
Trace Demon: She’s stronger than she looks, seems like most of the women I know seem to be that way.
Caitlyn Lucia: What are you going to do?
Trace Demon: What I have to.
I leave Caitlyn in the car and make my approach. I know full well that Nikki can’t do anything physical, not with the custody case hanging over her head. It’s taken me a long time to figure out why I helped Nikki Dean, but now I know. It’s the same reason that this is my only option. As I walk up to the house Nikki sees me and her eyes go wide, can’t quite tell whether it’s with shock or terror. Maybe a mix of both. This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gone after someone in their own home. He shuts up as he realizes that he’s lost her focus. His eyes turn to me, and so does his fury.
Dustin Gillespie: And who’s this homosexual? Another guy who’s giving it to Nikki eh, I thought she had bad taste with Josh but you, I mean come on.
I have a big mouth, and a way with words that makes people listen in rapture, but I know that sometimes words aren’t needed. Sometimes actions are the only thing that matters. So I keep my mouth closed and my eyes trained front and centre. His anger doesn’t subside, but when he speaks next there’s a hint of nervous energy about it.
Dustin Gillespie: What, you meant to be the strong silent type or something? Why don’t you just piss off back to whatever hole you crawled out of and let the adults talk alright?
I stop dead in front of him, but I never let my eyes waiver from his. I can see the change immediately, an almost drunken pride in his own anger replaced by fear of the unknown. He doesn’t know me and he doesn’t know what I’m willing to do. That makes him nervous, for all he knows I could slit his throat where he stands the moment he makes a move. The question is whether he’s willing to take that risk or not.
Dustin Gillespie: You trying to freak me out or something you… you freak!? I’ll knock you down to where you belong, I’ll…
His hand is clenched into a fist but he can’t stop it from shaking. I offer a wry smirk, a challenge for him to follow through. But I know even before he does that he isn’t going to throw a punch.
Dustin Gillespie: F**k you man, and f**k you Nikki, he’s my kid damn it! He belongs with me and you…
He pushes a finger towards my chest but draws up just short of placing it upon me, thinking better of it. At least he’s not brain dead.
Dustin Gillespie: You haven’t seen the last of me.
Oh I’m sure I haven’t, but as he storms off across the lawn I’m fairly confident that the next time we meet won’t end much differently to this one. I turn back to Nikki who still hasn’t been able to take her eyes off of me. It’s now it dawns on me that I never thought about what I’d say when I got here, about what I was meant to do. Now I know that what I’ve already done is enough. Sometimes silence is the stronger option and as our eyes meet and I see the fear in them I know that she won’t let that fear take her. She’ll push through it.
That is why I did it. That is why I helped her.
I offer a simple nod and then move back towards the car, Nikki never taking her eyes off of me as I enter it. Caitlyn simple looks confused.
Caitlyn Lucia: What the f**k just happened?
Trace Demon: Exactly what needed to.
Caitlyn Lucia: You didn’t even say anything!
Trace Demon: Oh I said plenty. The real question is whether she understood.
< *** >
There are three things that matter to me more than anything else in this world. The first is obvious. Family. I will do anything for my family, anything. I will hurt people, break people, tear apart the entire world if that’s what it takes. Because there is nothing that matters more than family, anyone or anything else in comparison is just white noise.
The second is strength, and don’t get me wrong on this one, it isn’t that I don’t tolerate weakness, it’s that I don’t tolerate people who let weakness overcome them. I was once that man, the man who let his vices control him, who let the weakness within himself take control. There’s no shame in having weaknesses, it’s natural, a part of life, it’s weakness that lets us grow stronger. But there is no place for people who let that weakness take over their lives and drive them into the dirt.
The third is respect. I may not like many people, but there are those that I respect, and my respect is far more important than whether I like you or not. See if you’re not family then regardless of whether I like you or hate you I will throw you under a bus if that’s what’s good for me. But if I respect you, if you have done enough to earn what very few people have earned… then when the time comes I will stand in front of you and fight you like the man of honour that I am. Three things that are the foundation of my life.
I bring you back to the one important question. Why oh why did I help Nikki Dean?
It’s because she shares my code of honour. It’s because she fights for her family. She fights for Josh and she fights for her son. She fights for family. She is strong for her family. I know what goes on outside this company, I know all about the custody lawsuit Nikki, see very few things happen to my employees without me knowing. But you see while all that’s going on, when you have the wolf howling at your door do you back down? Do you let fear or weakness stop you from protecting the most important people in your life? No. You stand tall and you fight. You fight for you, you fight for Josh and you fight for your child.
Nikki Dean, you have my respect.
You don’t have to believe me; you don’t have to trust my words. God knows I haven’t proven to be the most trustworthy person in the world. And I make no apologies for my actions, no requests for absolution. Simple fact is I don’t care what you people think of me, I don’t give a damn if you like me or trust me, I do what I want and I do what’s best for me. Helping Nikki Dean didn’t get me anything, it didn’t serve any bigger purpose. I helped Nikki Dean because she had my respect and because she fights for family.
Michael Kyzer fights for nothing. Ante Whitner fights for nothing. You two went after Nikki Dean because you thought it would help you. Bravo guys, smart thinking, you did something I’ve done time and time again. But you made the mistake of going after someone with my respect and you made the mistake of going after someone who fights for family. See ever since that night, ever since I ran out there I’ve been wondering why. I’ve been asking myself what makes her any different to anyone else who has earned my respect over the years. Because there’s been a few, not a lot, but a few. And I’ve watched them time and time again get beaten down and I didn’t care.
What makes Nikki Dean any different?
It’s because I see strength in her, it’s because I see a desire to help her family in her eyes, I see the fight of a woman who will not back down, who will not stand aside for people like you Michael Kyzer, for people like you Ante Whiter. The two of you think that just because you’re stood opposite two people who should never work together that you can just run roughshod over her, that you can take her out and have an easy path through this tournament. No, not on my watch!
You took the cowards way out, you went after a woman fighting for her family. And in that moment you proved just how weak you are. You let your weakness get the better of you and that is why you attacked Nikki Dean.
And we all know what I think of weakness.
Michael Kyzer, Ante Whitner, it is time for the strong to rise. It is time to purge the weak from the WFWF. And I’m starting with you.
You Don’t Know Anything; Act One
A Trace Demon Roleplay
There’s one question everybody seems to be asking me right now. Why Trace, why oh why did you help Nikki Dean? Why oh why did you go out there and save a girl who worked with the Saviours of Salvation to bring you down? Why oh why did you risk your already busted up body to save a girl like her?
I don’t blame any of you, it’s a damn good question.
I’m not exactly known for giving a damn about other people. My business is the only thing that matters to me and I only deal with people if it benefits me in some way. You’ve got to be proactive in eliminating threats sure, but if somebody isn’t a threat and never will be then why bother with them in the first place? No need to cause torment for the sake of it, just when the situation calls for it. I’m no monster, despite what you all think, I’m a businessman who knows that sometimes you’ve got to do monstrous things to get business done. At the end of the day business, be it family, industry or wrestling, is the only thing that matters.
Which brings us back to the big question. Why did I help Nikki Dean? Helping her didn’t help me, I don’t give a damn about this tag tournament. I’ve been tag team champion before and I didn’t much care for it and after Bishop’s stupidity I’ve got even less love for trusting someone else to get the job done than ever. I’m the owner of the WFWF, I could of backed out of this tournament with barely a bad word said against me. I’ve got nothing invested in this tournament, no interests to protect, and I sure as hell have no love lost for Nikki Dean of all people. It makes no sense, none at all.
Why oh why did I help Nikki Dean?
Like I said, it’s a damn good question.
< *** >
Demon Residence; Los Angeles
May 28th 2015; 10:53
I’ve not been myself recently.
I don’t know exactly how to describe it, it’s as if my thoughts haven’t been my own. In the build-up to my match with Bishop it’s like I lost myself, overwhelmed my everybody around me. Their voices drowning out my own. Then there was that whole thing with Nikki f*****g Dean. What came over me, what possessed me to run out there and save her skin. My head’s cloudier than it’s ever been and I’ve got no explanation for any of it. This trip is as much for me as it is for Alexa.
Alexa Munroe: I still don’t think this is a good idea.
Trace Demon: The girl wants to see her mom, simple as that.
Alexa Munroe: I didn’t mean her, I meant you. You’ve not been yourself ever since you stopped that frumpy girl from being double teamed by creepy Kyzer and the other guy, what’s his name? The one who just screams rapist?
Trace Demon: Ante Whitner.
Alexa Munroe: That’s the one.
Alexa’s never had much of an interest in wrestling, but she still checks out the shows. She wants to make sure I’m not doing anything too stupid, y’know, because being thrown over a staircase is no big deal.
Trace Demon: Nothing’s wrong with me, alright. Probably just still recovering from all the blood loss is all.
Alexa Munroe: Because that qualifies you to be taking an across-state road trip.
Trace Demon: Oh stop worrying about me alright, I’ve driven two hundred miles between shows with a broken foot. You know how hard it is to control a clutch with a broken foot?
Alexa Munroe: About as hard as it is to talk you out of anything I bet.
Trace Demon: Pretty close. Where is the girl anyway, we were meant to leave twenty minutes ago. And if I lean against the side of this car for much longer then I’m going to stop looking like a cool extra from some CW drama series.
Alexa Munroe: She’s probably still up there playing big spoon with your sister.
Emily and Caitlyn still think we don’t know about their whole secret lesbian love affair, but it’s hard not to know about something when you can hear it from halfway across a small mansion. I’ll tell you, nothing kills the thrill of lesbian sex than knowing your little sister is having it under the same roof as you.
Alexa Munroe: Just go up there and get her.
Trace Demon: I’m not going into their love shack, you go in there and get her.
Alexa Munroe: God no, if I walk in there and they’re getting hot and heavy then the next few days is just me, a toddler, a nanny and a very awkward teenage girl.
Trace Demon: If I walk in there then it’s me and a very awkward and angsty teenage girl stuck inside a car for however many miles.
Alexa Munroe: Touché.
It’s like some weird spaghetti western face off except with less guns and more lesbian sex.
Caitlyn Lucia: Sorry, sorry! I couldn’t find my phone!
She runs out of the house and towards us and we both pretend that we don’t see Emily watching her go in just a dressing gown from her bedroom window.
Trace Demon: Get in the car already!
Caitlyn Lucia: Alright, god chill out already.
She heads round to the passenger’s side and I wonder what I’ve got myself into. We’re doing this for a good reason, that much I understand. Her mom’s boyfriend turned up trying to extort money out of me and ended up having an unfortunate accident. The guy’s brain dead and isn’t waking up any time soon. Turns out that’s the kind of thing that makes you want to head back home and check in on your dead old mom. Can’t say I can relate to that.
Alexa Munroe: Don’t do anything stupid, okay. I don’t want you coming back here in a police car or something.
Trace Demon: When have you known me to do anything stupid? Okay, don’t answer that.
Soft hands meet my face, not put off one bit by the beard that has grown more out of a disinterest in shaving than any kind of fashion statement. And then comes the knocking on the inside of the car window.
Caitlyn Lucia: If you keep going I’m going to throw up in your car.
Alexa Munroe: Have fun.
I take a moment to watch her walk away, bseatecause don’t ever let anybody tell you that great tits come close to the perfect ass. Then I, somewhat regretfully, duck into the driver’s seat of the Mercedes, because there’s no shame in showing off now and then and take my place beside the girl I’ll be sharing a car with for the next two to three days.
Caitlyn Lucia: Let’s get moving already grandpa!
I’m starting to regret this already.
< *** >
Interstate 10
May 28th 2015; 17:31
The trip from Los Angeles to Galveson is f*****g fifteen hundred miles straight down Interstate 10, a good old fashioned twenty plus hour journey. We’re seven hours in and I’m already feeling the burn. I know there’s a motel at the twelve hour mark so I’ve just got to keep on moving till then. The time was I did these kinds of journeys for fun, nowadays less and less so. Big money means busy days, and busy days mean less driving and more flying.
I hate f*****g flying, first class isn’t my style but anywhere else you’re surrounded by the most annoying people I can imagine. But right now I remember why it’s easier, and it isn’t the time issue, it’s the wear and tear. The pain from my match with Bishop hasn’t quite left me yet. Me knee feels like it’s in pieces, my head is still killing me even though I’ve had the stitches out for days now and I don’t think all the thumbtack holes in my back have quite healed over. Makes you wonder why I keep trying to use those things, it never seems to pay off.
But the pain, like all the pain that’s come before it, will be worth it.
Caitlyn Lucia: So what’s in the folder?
God it had better be worth it.
Caitlyn Lucia: Come on, I saw you tuck that folder into your bag before we left, what’s the deal?
Trace Demon: It’s a folder; it’s got papers in it. I run a business, businesses involve lots of paper. Hence, I need a folder to hold all my business related paper.
Caitlyn Lucia: Bullsh*t.
I’m twenty eight years old, prime of my life, back in the day I figured I’d still be drinking, knocking back pills and sleeping with strange at this point. Instead I run a business, am in a committed relationship and responsible not just for a three year old of my own making but a seventeen year old half-sister and now an eighteen year old runaway.
Where the f**k did I go so wrong?
Caitlyn Lucia: I’ve been here what, eight months now? And I’ve never seen you with a folder or any kind of paperwork, not once. You don’t ever bring work home with you, and now all of a sudden you’ve got a folder?
Trace Demon: I’m not seeing the big deal.
Caitlyn Lucia: A folder that you haven’t let out of your sight for like nearly a month. You’re not that committed to work, whatever you’ve got in there it’s got to be juicy.
I try to drown her out, focus in on the road, block out the pain running through my body and the jumbled thoughts running through my mind. Every time I think my life is finally in hand it falls away once more, like drama is part of my nature. It was true, that this journey, down this long endless bloody road, is as much for me as for Caitlyn. But whereas she knows exactly what she hopes to find at the end of it I have no idea what’s waiting for me.
Caitlyn Lucia: Oi!
Trace Demon: I’m trying to drive!
Caitlyn Lucia: It’s a bloody interstate; it’s not exactly a difficult road y’know.
Trace Demon: Your point?
Caitlyn Lucia: What’s in the folder?!
Again I offer no answer.
Caitlyn Lucia: I’m not going to stop asking y’know, not until you-
Trace Demon: How long have you and Emily been hooking up?
And just like that she stops asking. Knowing which buttons to push, knowing how to silence someone, that’s as valuable as knowing how to win a match.
Caitlyn Lucia: Wh- what?
Trace Demon: My sister, how long have the two of you been sleeping together?
Caitlyn Lucia: I don’t… I mean I’m not… we’re not…
Trace Demon: I’m f*****g with you.
Caitlyn Lucia: You’re what?
The look of shocked horror on her face can’t help but bring a smirk to mine.
Trace Demon: I don’t give a s**t if the two of you are hooking up. Emily’s a smart girl, if she thinks you’re worth liking then I’m not going to second guess her. I mean I don’t see it, who falls for someone as punk rock looking, reckless and unpredictable as you?
Caitlyn Lucia: Ask Alexa.
Trace Demon: Fair point.
Caitlyn Lucia: Trace?
Trace Demon: Yeah?
Caitlyn Lucia: Thanks.
I don’t need to ask whether she’s thanking me for accepting her and Emily’s weird little romance or for tagging along on this little road trip of hers. It’s all the same, as much as most people know me only for the horrific and manipulative things I have done they don’t see the person I am behind closed doors. They don’t see the family, the three year old daughter I care for so deeply or the half-sister I’ve become the legal guardian of. They don’t see the runaway that I took in to no benefit to myself, not the ex-priest that I spent two years bailing out of addiction related nightmares. They see a monster because that’s all they need to see.
Trace Demon: So when are you going to admit that you’re nervous as hell?
Caitlyn Lucia: I’m not nervous.
Trace Demon: Oh please, you’re not nervous? We’re driving twenty hours across state borders to find your mom who you haven’t seen in a year, you’ve got no idea what you’re going to say to her when you get there, no idea what she’s going to say when she sees you, you still can’t decide whether this is a good idea or not. If you’re not nervous then you’re a f*****g robot.
I’ve hit a chord, if anything I’ve made it worse for her by adding a voice to her fears.
Trace Demon: Look, it’s fine to be nervous about something you can’t control like this, just don’t let those nerves psyche you out. All these people who think fear of the unknown is a bad thing don’t know s**t. Fear of the unknown is what makes you think, it’s what keeps you on your toes. If there’s one thing I can teach you it’s that you should never get comfortable, always be on edge, always be ready. You can’t predict anything, there’s always a wild card, always something waiting in the shadows. You think you know how the world works and then boom, f*****g nuclear bomb hits and you’re overrun by zombies.
Okay, getting a little off topic.
Trace Demon: There’s times in life when you won’t have all the answers. Hell you might not even know the questions, but you never let your guard down and you never stop being ready. Stay nervous, stay fearful, but only because you’ve got to use that to figure out exactly how you’re going to drop the unknown when it comes calling. All those people out there who think you’re crazy for never letting your guard down, they’re the ones who’ll drift through life without any idea of the real questions they should be asking and you, well you’re the one who’ll find the answers.
< *** >
Madra Motel; Just Off Interstate 10
May 28th 2015; 23:11
The shower is like paradise after ten hours of driving. The closer we’ve gotten to Galveston the worse the heat has got and the worse the heat has got the more my body has rebelled against me in the name of pain. I dry off, throw a pair of shorts on and then collapse onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling in a moment of peace. After ten hours of driving you run out of things to talk about but the silence that develops inside a car is different to this. That’s awkward, silence between two people who have been shut up together for too long. This is silence for the mind, a chance to decompress.
If only my mind would let me do so.
When I first started training to be a wrestler I realized that I had to always be ahead of my opponent. I had to be thinking constantly, assessing the variables, figuring out ways to counter anything they could throw at me. And not just in the ring. My speech to Caitlyn about never letting your guard down wasn’t just hollow words to comfort; they’re words I live by. I trained myself to never switch off, to always be thinking, even if my body is in one place a part of my mind is somewhere else, buried away, streaming a thousand possibilities and thoughts at any one second. Always calculation, always planning, always figuring it all out. It works, even when I don’t realize I’m doing it I know full well that a part of my sub-conscious mind is solving the problem, coming up with the solution and pushing it to the forefront just as I need it. It never fails.
But it also never stops.
As I lay here I can feel it in effect, I can feel my mind working overtime on every problem that could possibly present itself. But it’s one problem in particular, one question that I just can’t figure out. Nikki Dean, why oh why.
I grab my bag from the side, opening it up and pulling out the thin brown folder. Caitlyn was right, this isn’t my style, a f****g folder, like I care enough about work for that. I open it up, spreading out the contents on the bed. A host of photographs and profiles on nearly a dozen different WFWF wrestlers past and present. All with one thing in common. At one point or another I considered them allies.
Thunder. Saku. Reckless. Back during my original run as acting director of the WFWF these three were my pawns, the men I used to keep myself in power. Saku and Reckless turned out to be nothing special, men with promise who faded out before they could ever really realize it. But Thunder… Thunder was different. A legend of the WFWF and the only man I have ever trusted enough to make a real run at the WFWF Tag Team Championships. And not just a run at them, we won them. Trace Demon, tag teams champion. That was the only time that was ever said. I never much cared for it.
Wayne McGurk. Scarlett Quinn. Penny Shannon. There are very few people outside my own family who were as close to me as they were, Wayne and Vanessa helped me out when nobody else would, they welcomed me with open, if somewhat regretful, arms. Wayne was like a brother to me, Scarlett like a niece, Penny like that weird stoner cousin nobody wants to invite around for dinner. Wayne and I had our wrestling school, Scarlett grew to such a level that she unseated Phillip Schneider of all people for the WFWF World Heavyweight Championship and Penny was running roughshod over the entire WFWF. They trusted me and I them.
Joe Bishop. Jason Anders. Kyle Matthews. My Final Revolution. Three likeminded individuals who recognised the tyranny of our dear general manager Lila Sleater. Three men who, like myself, were willing to do unspeakable things to try and save the WFWF from being torn apart by a woman consumed by greed and pride. They trusted me and in return I turned them into a force to be reckoned with. Anders got the power he so wanted, Matthews got the opportunity to learn from the best and Joe Bishop became the International Champion. Their glory was my glory, and we were going to change everything.
There were others, but they all ended the same. It fell apart, every single time. Thunder faded from the spotlight, Saku and Reckless vanished full stop. I broke Penny’s spirit, broke Scarlett’s body and broke Wayne’s trust. And then there’s Joe Bishop… the one man who had the nerve to turn his back on me and in term lead to Anders and Matthews removal from any kind of relevancy. All of this proved one thing.
You cannot offer trust to anybody with ambitions that conflict with your own. There isn’t a single person out there who doesn’t want what’s best for themselves, not one, it’s just a matter of what they’re willing to do, how far they’re willing to go. Me? I’ll do anything, hurt anybody, do monstrous things in the name of the greater good. The greater good for Trace Demon that is.
As I stare at the images of my former friends, former partners, former loosely called acquaintances, I wonder to myself what it is about Nikki Dean that makes her any different. At lease these faces offered something to me, at least their interests aided my own. Nikki Dean offers nothing. I don’t give a damn about the Tag Team Championships, I don’t want to be part of some team, I don’t want to have to rely on somebody else week in and week out. There is a difference between a pawn and a partner. All of these people, these memories spread out in front of me, they were all expendable. A partner, a true, real, championship chasing tag team partner is anything but.
I don’t want to be in this tournament. If I had let things run their course and let Kyzer and Ante double team Nikki to their hearts content then she would be in no state to compete and I would be off the hook without even having to lift a finger. I could focus on the important things, saving the WFWF, the World Championship, my own career, anything but this pathetic excuse for a tournament. The best thing for me would be if Nikki Dean had been left in a pool of blood. So why is it that I was the one who stopped that from happening?
What is it that my mind is trying to tell me? Has it figured out the answer already, only I’ve not caught up yet? Is there something I’m missing? Why oh why did I save Nikki Dean?
And why am I so conflicted?
< *** >
Lucia Residence
Galveston, Texas
May 29th 2015; 15:21
We rise early to hit the remaining eight hour drive, arriving just as the sun is shining highest in the sky, the Texan heat raining down upon the land as if we’re just ants in a pressure cooker. I come from Canada so give me ice and snow any day over the stickiness of this bloody sun. At least it’s not the beach, god damn beaches, sand is just a sh*t version of snow.
Trace Demon: This the place?
Caitlyn Lucia: Yeah, this is home I guess.
Not quite sure what I was expecting, but this is much more suburban than I pegged Caitlyn for. Guess it makes sense, the girl was always rebelling against something, I just thought it was her crap mother, not her whole lifestyle.
Trace Demon: You ready?
She offers a nod. The nerves are still there, the fear evident in her eyes and posture; she moves with someone filled with trepidation as we pull up outside the one floor home.
Trace Demon: I can come with you if you want?
Caitlyn Lucia: No, I need to do this on my own.
She makes her own way up towards the front of the house and I crank the AC up in the car to try and get some feeling that isn’t stickiness. There’s a “for sale” sign stuck into the lawn, with the name of some Texan housing company plastered over it. Caitlyn didn’t say anything about them selling up so I’m guessing this has popped up some time since she legged it. I can see her knocking on the front door and waiting there for some answer that doesn’t come. She knocks again, still nothing. She shouts through the letter box but it still doesn’t look like anyone’s home. As she peers through the windows at the front I exit out into the atrocious heat, the humidity smacking me clean in the face, and walk up towards the house.
Trace Demon: No luck?
Caitlyn Lucia: The whole house looks empty, not even any furniture in there. I think she took off or…
She trails off, probably thinking of the worst possible scenario. Her mom’s boyfriend Alan was a real piece of work, wouldn’t put it past him to… no, don’t want to drag myself down as well, got to keep her hopeful.
Trace Demon: She probably just moved to make sure Alan couldn’t find her when he came back. Not that he ever did.
Surprisingly that doesn’t reassure her.
Mrs. McCall: Caitlyn, is that you?
The voice comes from a woman in her mid-forties from the next house along. She’s nothing special, pretty in a kind of bland way. Exactly what you’d expect from suburbia.
Caitlyn Lucia: Mrs. McCall?
Mrs. McCall: Oh Caitlyn, I wasn’t expecting to see you again, I thought you’d left a year ago.
Caitlyn Lucia: I did but… do you know where my mom is? Is she okay?
Mrs. McCall: Well dear, um…
She trails off, knows something she doesn’t want to share. That’s probably not a good sign, right?
Caitlyn Lucia: Where’s my mom, did something happen to her, is she okay?
Mrs. McCall: She’s… she’s still around Caitlyn, but she lost the house, couldn’t pay the mortgage on it so the bank repossessed the place.
That explains why that sh*theel came rocking up trying to extort money out of me. Guy like that, bet he couldn’t believe it when he lucked into this whole family setup, house and all. Then Caitlyn ran off, then the house went, no way he wanted to let it all slip out of his fingers without getting something for his efforts.
Caitlyn Lucia: Do you know where she’s gone?
Mrs. McCall: I do, but you’re not going to like it Cait.
< *** >
Trailer Park
Galveston, Texas
May 29th 2015; 16:45
For man like myself it’s amazing I’ve had so little experience with trailer parks before. I can’t say I intend to make it a habit, this place is the pits. Course I’ve got no ill will to the people here, a lot of them are probably as hard working as anyone else, but then there’s a few I’ve spotted as we’ve walked through the place that are the total opposite, just here because they can’t deal with getting a real job and actually making something of themselves. There are few things worse than people who are happy being pathetic layabouts their whole life.
Trace Demon: You sure this is the place? It’s not exactly prime retail.
Caitlyn Lucia: This is where Mrs. McCall said mom had gone. God, things must of gotten really bad.
Caitlyn’s never been too forthcoming with details on her mom before but I know the basics, and from what she’s told me then she’s probably right, things must be bad. The way she sold it her mom was a hard worker, a secretary for some legal firm that did a lot of work with troubled youths. It’s a crying shame that work ethic didn’t extend to her own home, maybe if it did she would have done something about the kind of things that bastard put Caitlyn through.
Caitlyn Lucia: I think she said this one.
We stop outside a particularly unspectacular looking trailer, “106”, definitely the right number. With any luck Caitlyn’s mom will be inside, or maybe the lucky thing would be that she isn’t here. I’m not too sure anymore.
Trace Demon: You sure you still want to do this alone?
Caitlyn Lucia: Can’t be having an anime looking thirty year old fighting my battles for me can I.
Trace Demon: Twenty eight thank you very much.
She’s putting on a brave face but she’s even worse than at the house. Knowing where her mom is, knowing how bad it has to be for her to even be here, even just the extra time waiting around, it’s all gotten to her.
Trace Demon: Go and get her kid.
Caitlyn Lucia: I’m not a kid.
She smiles as she says it, appreciates the encouragement even if it doesn’t really help all that much. I stay back as she heads up, knocking on the door, hearing someone call from inside and then opening it up and entering. The door closes behind and I’m left out of the action once again. I feel awkward, stood outside in a trailer park, the sun baking down on top of me, unable to do anything but look cool and sweaty at the same time.
Loser: Hey, hey man. You looking for some gear.
I turn on the spot to see myself far too close to some cokehead for my liking. He’s a loser, no other word to describe him, a man of no moral fibre but not enough brains to do anything with that lack of morality. A terrible combination.
Trace Demon: What?
Loser: Guy like you, hair like that, you’ve got to be looking for a good time right.
For a second I wonder whether he’s propositioning me, flattered but not interested, but then he holds up a bag of powder and my original suspicions were correct. A total addict.
Loser: Come on, what’ll it be?
Trace Demon: You got a family kid?
Loser: What? Nah man I ain’t got no need for ‘dem parentals. I’m a self-made man see, don’t need none of that suburban sh*t.
Not entirely sure what language he’s speaking, certainly not any English I know, but I’m smart enough to decipher what he’s trying to say.
Trace Demon: You know that’s good to hear, I’d hate to think how disappointed they’d be to see their son throwing his life away.
Loser: You what mate?
Trace Demon: Okay firstly, I am not your mate. Secondly I said they’d be disappointed to see you. You mentioned suburbia right, so you’re from a good neighbourhood. Did you get fiddled with as a kid? Beat about maybe?
Loser: What? Nah man ain’t nobody messed with me, who the f*ck you think you are?
It’s like having a conversation with Yukio Blaze. Words are coming out of his mouth but he’s not actually saying anything worth hearing.
Trace Demon: So you’re from a good family to boot, yet here you are peddling that crap that’s clearly cut with baking powder. Now if your family were something terrible I’d give you a pass, but from what I can tell they’re not, so the real question is who the f*ck do you think you are? Walking around like you’ve got something to be proud of when really every action you take is just another spit in the face of the people who cared about you. Family is the only thing worth fighting for, family is the only thing you can trust and here you are pissing on their hard work. The only self-made thing about you is that you’re a self-made disappointment.
Loser: You son of a-
Trace Demon: Oh please.
I see him go for a knife in his belt but his hands are shaking from his last hit and he’s far too slow. My first shot connects with his gut, right between the ribs, doubling him over, and the second makes contact with his jaw. He topples to the ground in a heap, the knife sliding to my feet. I pick it up, damn thing’s too blunt to even do anything in the first place.
Trace Demon: You my poor pathetic friend should have a little more respect for your elders.
I don’t get much time to revel in the fun turn today has taken as something comes crashing through one of the trailer windows from behind me. Is that a toaster? That’s a cliché right, a toaster through a trailer window has to be a cliché. Caitlyn comes storming out through the door, fury in her face, and a loud voice echoes out from behind her.
Nina Lucia: You’re the reason he left, he left me because of you you little b***h.
From behind Caitlyn a woman just as pathetic looking as the young man behind me steps out in nothing but a dressing gown. I recognise the signs of a crack addict the moment I set my sights on her, the skin, the bloodshot eyes, the teeth. My god the teeth. Crack was the one drug I never did see the appeal of, who wants to destroy their teeth like that?
Caitlyn Lucia: And I’m leaving because you’re a crack addled whore, what’s your point?!
She marches straight on past me, her mother still screaming obscenities from the doorway. I look back down at the pathetic would-be dealer who’s holding his gut, his jaw jutting out a little more than it’s meant to. Oops.
Trace Demon: See if you’re mom was like that then you’d be forgiven for being a waste of space.
Well, maybe.
< *** >
Gala Diner
Galveston, Texas
May 29th 2015; 19:21
Trace Demon: We’ll set up somewhere here tonight, take off early in the morning. Do the whole thing in one go. Maybe I’ll let you drive for a bit.
She isn’t listening, just sits there opposite me playing with her scrambled eggs. It’s got to be cold by now, not that she cares. Hasn’t had a bite, more fool her, these eggs are awesome. Who knew Texas could do anything that wasn’t meat related. Still, hard to enjoy it looking at the most miserable face in all of history.
Trace Demon: Crack addled whore eh, you should write a book, vocab like that.
Caitlyn Lucia: You’re not funny.
Trace Demon: Shame, I’m meant to do stand-up next week.
Comedy isn’t going to work here, not that anyone has ever called me a great comedian anyway. Time to take a more direct route.
Trace Demon: You going to tell me what happened in there?
Caitlyn Lucia: No.
Trace Demon: You know I’m not going to let it drop. No way I’m driving another twenty hours with you like this. I get enough angst back home and that’s about a thousand times bigger than the car.
Caitlyn Lucia: She said I was the reason Alan left her.
Trace Demon: And you didn’t tell her otherwise?
Caitlyn Lucia: What was I meant to say? He came looking for money and this guy I’m living with beat him into a coma?
I’d like to point out that I have never been linked to any baseball bat related beatings outside of the confined environement of the WFWF. And that’s the statement I’ll be sticking to for the foreseeable future.
Caitlyn Lucia: Mom was never that strong, but drugs man. She never touched the stuff even when that bunghole would light up in the house. I think when I ran off it broke her, maybe she’s right, maybe I screwed her up.
Trace Demon: Woman like that was screwed up long before you ran off kid. I’m not saying she’s a bad person, but the way I see it it’s hard to sympathise for someone who goes that far down the drug addled rabbit hole.
Caitlyn Lucia: Wasn’t that your whole scene way back?
Trace Demon: How do you think I know what I’m talking about?
It’s no big secret, not from anybody who pays attention, doesn’t even need much research to be honest. I’m amazed I’m still alive sometimes the things I’ve taken, the things I’ve done.
Trace Demon: Unless someone held her down and made her snort something against her will the plain and simple truth is that she was weak. Same as I was, same as anybody else is. I told you before that fear isn’t a weakness, but giving in to fear, letting it take over you? That’s weakness. Hiding behind drugs or alcohol or money or anything, that’s weakness. People who stand there and make excuses, people who preach about their difficult life and how that’s why they’re a mess… I’m sick of it. Look you want to stand there and destroy your own life then fine, be my guest, but you turn your back on a family that loves and cares about you and you don’t deserve sympathy.
Caitlyn Lucia: Isn’t that what I did though?
Trace Demon: You got out of a bad situation. You didn’t turn your back on anyone Cait, she turned her back on you the moment she let him do what he did to you, and don’t you think for a second that anything else is the truth.
Caitlyn Lucia: I guess you’re right.
Trace Demon: I usually am.
Caitlyn Lucia: Debatable.
She smiles. It’s the smallest of smiles, but it’s a step in the right direction. The kid is tough, and she knows now that she’s got support. She’ll get through this. She’ll leave this place behind her, forget about her mom the very same way I did when I was her age. I could tell her no to, I could tell her to stay behind and help, to make sure she gets help, but I’m not going to do that. Because her mom’s weak, and I’ve no time for the weak. Does that make me heartless, or does that make me pragmatic? I know which one I’m leaning towards.
Trace Demon: Look, let’s get out of here and leave this place in the rear view. Let’s get back to Alexa and Emily and Eliza. Let’s go back home.
Caitlyn Lucia: This was meant to be my home.
Trace Demon: Come on, who wants to live in this bloody heat anyway? Seriously, I’m sweating in places I didn’t even know I could sweat.
Caitlyn Lucia: You don’t have to say everything you think y’know.
Trace Demon: You’ve got a home kid, it’s just not here.
Caitlyn Lucia: When did you grow a heart eh?
When indeed. When did I start caring about people, when did I start helping and when the f**k did I grow a soul. Huh, right around the same time as I…
Bingo.
Trace Demon: You mind if we take a detour?
< *** >
The Dean Residence
May 30th 2015; 16:43
Caitlyn Lucia: This the place?
Trace Demon: Yeah.
Caitlyn Lucia: Think you’re a little late to the party.
She’s not wrong. As we pull up towards the house it’s clear to see that she’s already involved in some kind of argument. I recognise the guy from the paperwork that landed on my desk this week. Anything legal related goes on with my roster and I make sure to know about it, so the moment that custody order went through I knew. There’s no doubt in my mind, that’s Nikki’s ex-husband, and he does not look like he’s in a pleasant mood.
Caitlyn Lucia: That’s the woman? The one you’re meant to team with? She doesn’t look like much. Bad luck man.
Trace Demon: She’s stronger than she looks, seems like most of the women I know seem to be that way.
Caitlyn Lucia: What are you going to do?
Trace Demon: What I have to.
I leave Caitlyn in the car and make my approach. I know full well that Nikki can’t do anything physical, not with the custody case hanging over her head. It’s taken me a long time to figure out why I helped Nikki Dean, but now I know. It’s the same reason that this is my only option. As I walk up to the house Nikki sees me and her eyes go wide, can’t quite tell whether it’s with shock or terror. Maybe a mix of both. This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gone after someone in their own home. He shuts up as he realizes that he’s lost her focus. His eyes turn to me, and so does his fury.
Dustin Gillespie: And who’s this homosexual? Another guy who’s giving it to Nikki eh, I thought she had bad taste with Josh but you, I mean come on.
I have a big mouth, and a way with words that makes people listen in rapture, but I know that sometimes words aren’t needed. Sometimes actions are the only thing that matters. So I keep my mouth closed and my eyes trained front and centre. His anger doesn’t subside, but when he speaks next there’s a hint of nervous energy about it.
Dustin Gillespie: What, you meant to be the strong silent type or something? Why don’t you just piss off back to whatever hole you crawled out of and let the adults talk alright?
I stop dead in front of him, but I never let my eyes waiver from his. I can see the change immediately, an almost drunken pride in his own anger replaced by fear of the unknown. He doesn’t know me and he doesn’t know what I’m willing to do. That makes him nervous, for all he knows I could slit his throat where he stands the moment he makes a move. The question is whether he’s willing to take that risk or not.
Dustin Gillespie: You trying to freak me out or something you… you freak!? I’ll knock you down to where you belong, I’ll…
His hand is clenched into a fist but he can’t stop it from shaking. I offer a wry smirk, a challenge for him to follow through. But I know even before he does that he isn’t going to throw a punch.
Dustin Gillespie: F**k you man, and f**k you Nikki, he’s my kid damn it! He belongs with me and you…
He pushes a finger towards my chest but draws up just short of placing it upon me, thinking better of it. At least he’s not brain dead.
Dustin Gillespie: You haven’t seen the last of me.
Oh I’m sure I haven’t, but as he storms off across the lawn I’m fairly confident that the next time we meet won’t end much differently to this one. I turn back to Nikki who still hasn’t been able to take her eyes off of me. It’s now it dawns on me that I never thought about what I’d say when I got here, about what I was meant to do. Now I know that what I’ve already done is enough. Sometimes silence is the stronger option and as our eyes meet and I see the fear in them I know that she won’t let that fear take her. She’ll push through it.
That is why I did it. That is why I helped her.
I offer a simple nod and then move back towards the car, Nikki never taking her eyes off of me as I enter it. Caitlyn simple looks confused.
Caitlyn Lucia: What the f**k just happened?
Trace Demon: Exactly what needed to.
Caitlyn Lucia: You didn’t even say anything!
Trace Demon: Oh I said plenty. The real question is whether she understood.
< *** >
There are three things that matter to me more than anything else in this world. The first is obvious. Family. I will do anything for my family, anything. I will hurt people, break people, tear apart the entire world if that’s what it takes. Because there is nothing that matters more than family, anyone or anything else in comparison is just white noise.
The second is strength, and don’t get me wrong on this one, it isn’t that I don’t tolerate weakness, it’s that I don’t tolerate people who let weakness overcome them. I was once that man, the man who let his vices control him, who let the weakness within himself take control. There’s no shame in having weaknesses, it’s natural, a part of life, it’s weakness that lets us grow stronger. But there is no place for people who let that weakness take over their lives and drive them into the dirt.
The third is respect. I may not like many people, but there are those that I respect, and my respect is far more important than whether I like you or not. See if you’re not family then regardless of whether I like you or hate you I will throw you under a bus if that’s what’s good for me. But if I respect you, if you have done enough to earn what very few people have earned… then when the time comes I will stand in front of you and fight you like the man of honour that I am. Three things that are the foundation of my life.
I bring you back to the one important question. Why oh why did I help Nikki Dean?
It’s because she shares my code of honour. It’s because she fights for her family. She fights for Josh and she fights for her son. She fights for family. She is strong for her family. I know what goes on outside this company, I know all about the custody lawsuit Nikki, see very few things happen to my employees without me knowing. But you see while all that’s going on, when you have the wolf howling at your door do you back down? Do you let fear or weakness stop you from protecting the most important people in your life? No. You stand tall and you fight. You fight for you, you fight for Josh and you fight for your child.
Nikki Dean, you have my respect.
You don’t have to believe me; you don’t have to trust my words. God knows I haven’t proven to be the most trustworthy person in the world. And I make no apologies for my actions, no requests for absolution. Simple fact is I don’t care what you people think of me, I don’t give a damn if you like me or trust me, I do what I want and I do what’s best for me. Helping Nikki Dean didn’t get me anything, it didn’t serve any bigger purpose. I helped Nikki Dean because she had my respect and because she fights for family.
Michael Kyzer fights for nothing. Ante Whitner fights for nothing. You two went after Nikki Dean because you thought it would help you. Bravo guys, smart thinking, you did something I’ve done time and time again. But you made the mistake of going after someone with my respect and you made the mistake of going after someone who fights for family. See ever since that night, ever since I ran out there I’ve been wondering why. I’ve been asking myself what makes her any different to anyone else who has earned my respect over the years. Because there’s been a few, not a lot, but a few. And I’ve watched them time and time again get beaten down and I didn’t care.
What makes Nikki Dean any different?
It’s because I see strength in her, it’s because I see a desire to help her family in her eyes, I see the fight of a woman who will not back down, who will not stand aside for people like you Michael Kyzer, for people like you Ante Whiter. The two of you think that just because you’re stood opposite two people who should never work together that you can just run roughshod over her, that you can take her out and have an easy path through this tournament. No, not on my watch!
You took the cowards way out, you went after a woman fighting for her family. And in that moment you proved just how weak you are. You let your weakness get the better of you and that is why you attacked Nikki Dean.
And we all know what I think of weakness.
Michael Kyzer, Ante Whitner, it is time for the strong to rise. It is time to purge the weak from the WFWF. And I’m starting with you.
