Post by Obi on Oct 7, 2011 18:53:19 GMT -5
"Breaking Bad Chapter VII: The Storm"
Prequel to Prestige by Toby Hunter.
Prequel to Prestige by Toby Hunter.
7.1
"Coming Clean"
Darkness.
I can smell sulfur.
My eyelids flutter as my pupils struggle to see out before me. I shake an arm, it does not respond, instead offering only a surge of pain up through my shoulder blade. Leaning my head back, I listen to the area around me. There is nothing else for me to do at this point. I resign myself to the enveloping darkness around me without any fear or hesitation. In my mind, I dare death to come for me. I know it won’t though. You see, that is a gift that will never be mine to experience. My mind begins to wander now, lost in the abyss that is complete and utter silence. Memories long gone by begin to pass through my mind. Comforting voices ring true in my ears as I am transported to a much simpler time…
5.23.87 San Francisco, CA.
The Hunter Family Ranch.
“Toby, you have to remember one thing more than anything else. Your opponent will try to get in your head prior to the match. That is where the war is won, to be honest. If you can master the mind games of professional wrestling, no one will stop you. Now, Son, you are going to be pretty large in the body. That much is already evident. Master the psychological end of the game and work on your natural strengths, and you will be a World Champion in no time.”
He stands before me, shaking that trademark iron fist of his. His energy is undeniable, a man in the element that has made him famous world wide. Pushing my dark hair out of my eyes, I stare at my father through 16 year old eyes. This man is everything to me. Role model, hero, and friend all in one. For years now, he has taken to training me on the basics of professional wrestling. I have tested him, often driving the man into fits, but he does not give up on me. The skills needed to step in the ring do not come easy to me at all, but I refuse to give up, even though the love of the sport is not mine to share with him. Watching my father pick up his coat and toss me a towel to wipe my seat off with, I begin to question things. They are simple things to question, but a question none the less. You see, while I have been giving my all in the ring in hopes of learning to love this sport, my younger brother Jaden has watched without fail without ever being offered to learn as well.
It seems that no matter the time of day, whenever I turn to stare out of the ring and towards the doorway of the barn that our ring resides in, Jaden watches us, learning with his eyes. He obviously has a fire for the sport. While my bedroom is currently covered in wall to wall posters of various pin up girls, Jaden chooses to adorn his walls with various images of professional wrestlers. Just a 5 minute conversation with the kid would prove to anyone that he lives for the ring.. So I can not help but wonder why my father would not take the equal amount of time to train another of his sons who obviously loves the sport. As my Dad picks up the last of our belongings and heads to the ropes, I speak. He turns to look at me with a smile as I do. “Dad, why don’t we ever ask Jaden to join us?”
“He will one day.” he responds quickly, glancing towards the front porch where Jaden and our Mother sits together. There is a slight frown on Jaden’s face. “He just needs to grow up a little first.”
“Jaden is way more into this stuff than I am, Dad.” I continue. “Hell, if he could just step in the ring and get thrown around a bit, it would make his day. Let’s have him join us next time?”
My father’s facial expressions change as he approaches me. Placing one arm on my shoulder he begins to answer my question with a tone that radiates frustration. “Toby, Jaden will have his time in a few years. Right now, he has a lot of anger in him. Handing a kid like that the tools to hurt someone is not the smartest thing to do.”
“Yes, but he loves wrestling.” I argue. “It might even help him focus and release some of that anger, you know? I just think you are training the wrong son, is all. I would be happy just working on my bike and sitting out there in the sun.”
“I know. That is why you are the right Son.” he answers to my surprise. “You see, I have made a career of doing things the right way. Wrestling is about the relationship between the fans and the men inside of that ring. It’s easy to go out there and be an asshole to drum up attention for yourself. To be a role model for others though.. That is a challenge. We live in a world where doing the right thing is often mistaken for weakness. Jaden will not understand that right now. He is too hungry. He will have his time, just not now.”
“I don’t want him to blame me though.” I answer dryly.
“He is your brother. There will come a time when you two are all that you have. When you both are older and understand the world better, he will see the truth of why I waited to train him. For all of that anger inside of that boy, there is a strong young man. You just have to be positive. Now, come on. Your momma is baking her famous apple pie. Let’s see if it is ready for the Hunter family devouring party!”
I am patted on the back as my father walks away. I watch him step through the ropes and drift away into nothingness. A man whom would become a legend in our sport, and would be the defining man in my life, would eventually pass away years later. Standing there watching him fade away, I want to run to him and hold him tightly, keeping him from leaving my life once again.. But I don’t. Instead, I look off in the distance at my brother. The two of us stare at one another a moment. Jaden’s eyes glare back at me, seething with hatred. Rising up off of the porch, he glances at me one last time.. And then heads in to the house. I am alone… in the darkness…
7.2
"The truth will set you free."
"The truth will set you free."
Present Day.
My muscles spasm as I suddenly rise up to a seated position! My hands slap hard against the cold pavement below me, each arm bruised and weakened. Glancing around me, I stare out at the room around me. I am in some sort of abandoned house, the sounds of a heavy rain storm coming down just outside. Planting one shaky hand down, I rise up to my feet, my legs barely holding up my weight. I am tired, and very sore. These are feelings that have been unknown to me.. Until recently. Combing my long hair out of my face with my fingers, I wipe off my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Hello, Toby.” comes a voice from behind me.
I whip around and immediately face the voice, doing my best to stay upright. My spine cracks as I twist about and try to maintain my posture. Age is a bitch. Standing before me is the man who has been the root of all of my troubles for the last 15 years. I once referred to him as the Devil himself, then as a manager, recently a probation officer. Now.. He is simply Raviel.
“You were out for some time.” continued Raviel as he paced the room. “I was beginning to wonder about you. How are you feeling?”
“Like shit.” I answer as I stretch my arms out. I can hear a few more cracks and pops as I do so that cause me to grimace.
“Yes, I can see that. You’re probably wondering why you have become so tired as of late. You can only blame yourself for that. You have spent the last 15 years telling me that you wanted no help from me, shunning my.. Gifts. Now, you have your wish.”
“Good.” I snap back at him. “Fuck your gifts. Now leave me alone.”
Raviel smiles at me, revealing his dirty yellow teeth. With one hand on the window, he continues to speak. “I see that your brother is after you again. That must scare you half to death! The damage that he has put on you through the years is absolutely astonishing. With your current state, one has to wonder.. How will you manage?”
“I always do.” I snarl.
“Yes.. You always DID. Looking at you, one has to wonder if you are capable of opening a door though besides fighting any kind of a match right now! If you would just let down that bothersome pride of yours and admit that you need me.. We can get back to business. This game that the two of us have played has gone on too long now. I tire of it just as I know you do. Everything that you have accomplished has been because of me! Championships, fans, awards…”
“The death of my family..” I answer now. I glare at Raviel as he stops speaking immediately, his eyebrows raising.
“Oh?” he answers. “I see you remember now.”
“I remember everything.” I continue. “When you took back your little parlor tricks, you also gave me back my memory. It was you who killed my family. You let me take the blame for it for years and carry that guilt but no more. We made a deal that you would keep her alive in exchange for my soul. You broke that deal.. Had you not, this game would not even have been possible.”
“Indeed.” replied Raviel. “What can I say? I am not one for playing by the rules. Your wife had a nasty smoking habit. It's always a bad thing to fall asleep with a cigarette in your hand, isn't it? I really can not take the blame for the mishap though. I just gave her a reason to feel.. sleepy.. is all. Either way, you belong to me. You are my Oblivion, and this charade has gone on long enough. After Prestige, I am coming to claim what is rightfully mine. I hope that you enjoyed yourself. You should thank me really. I am protecting you. I hear that the Devil’s Due is looking for you these days for that Mister Luck stunt. Word has it.. They want to kill you. In the shape that you are in, if Xplode does not finish you off… they may just do the job. You know those biker gangs. They hate betrayal. Trust is such a big thing for you mortals..”
“You’re right about one thing.” I begin to say. I stand up to my full height, glaring at him with as much intensity as I can muster. “This all ends after Prestige. Your countdown.. Begins now.” The two of us stare at one another after, neither man willing to back down. All of the years of torment from this man have finally caught up to me. If I had to crawl through the fucking gates of hell with one arm tied behind my back to avenge my family and take out Raviel, I would do it.
With no words being said from there on, I turn and exit the building. The rain immediately pelts my face, running it’s course down my eye sockets and cheeks. I instantly remember waking up against my wife’s tombstone so many years ago, my memory completely gone. It was a night just like tonight. Turning to look at him one more time, I watch him step outside as well. Raviel’s face betrays nothing emotion wise. I think we both know that the final war.. Has begun.
“Cole, I have the shot. Let me blast this mother fucker and be done with it.”
On top of a nearby rooftop, a man sits with a long sniper rifle in one hand. His eye is pressed against the scope as the bullseye bobbles from Oblivion to Raviel and then back again. Letting the cigarette drop from his lips, he balances the rifle and speaks into a ear piece. “That bastard is in my sights. Give me the word and the bloody traitor is dead.”
“No.” answers the voice on the other end. “Not yet. We are sticking to the plan. Pack it up Bobby and come on back to the Devil’s Dive Tavern.”
“Roger that.” answers Bobby as he lowers the rifle. Sitting back, he slides on his leather vest with the “Devil’s Due motorclub” symbol proudly displayed upon his back. Gathering his things, he heads to the other side of the roof to a waiting ladder..
As the storm continues on…