Post by Easton Alexander on May 30, 2023 2:17:07 GMT -5
The sound of tires rolling slowly on hot asphalt, the sound of the hissing cicadas burning in the sun. The sweat off the brow of Easton Alexander hits the pavement and evaporates away. Edmonton in late May, everybody who makes the jokes about Canada being cold all year round needs to run a mile on the endless highways in Alberta and burn away as all the water leaves your body.
If you weren't privy to the training methods of Lou Phol you would think he's chasing this kid with a KIA, but if you know you know.
Lou leans his head out of the window. “two Hours?! Are you kidding me kid your a fucking machine. Let's see if we can hit two and a half.”
Easton doesn't say a word, just keeps putting one foot in front of the other, with Lou ten feet behind him he's gone completely numb, without a thought in his mind. The thump and scratch of his runners dragged against the road, burning a hole through the sole of his shoe, the tar almost pulling his foot back to his last step like venom. But one foot in front of the other is the only thing he can do.
two hours of running along the open road moves to two and a half, then three. He's mindless, brainless… whatever you want to say the thought of stopping never crossed his mind.
Lou’s shitty rental starts to putt…
Putt
Putt and stutter.
“Woah wait! The car! Kid!”
Ears ringing and mouth dry Easton continues into his 4th hour of running.
The backdrop starts turning white, the midday Alberta sun consuming the entire skyline. Suddenly Eastons legs wobble and he collapses onto one knee. Legs shaking, the calf muscles bulging off his leg he stands but up just barely staying upright.
Strutting up on his left hand side, a large white haired wolf stops parallel on the other side of the dotted yellow line. It looks up at him, a scar over its left eye and panting from the heat. Easton almost doing the same with his heavy laboured breathing, pouring sweat from every part of his body, his shirt soaked in body water. The wolf moves behind Easton nudging the back of his left leg then weaving through his legs moving along the road.
“You want me to follow you.”
Easton’s voice is raspy, and deep. The wolf looks back for a moment before continuing, allowing Easton to run with him for what is anywhere between five minutes and five weeks, time stops counting as Easton and this wolf trot along highway 1. The wolf cuts left into a long driveway that lasts almost as long as the actual road, not even winding or mysterious, you can see the large white house and garage at the end of the path, but as Easton walks down it it almost stitches to become three times longer. The paint on the house is aged and chipped from the years gone by, the steps up to the front door are cracked as the wood is cracked and rotten. Easton follows the wolf up the steps feeling weightless in nature, the wolf stands on his back legs leaning against the door, the scale of the creature now fully on display, almost 6 feet tall standing it takes Easton by surprise as he raises a fist to knock on the door.
THUNK THUNK THUNK.
Glass crashes from the inside of the house, footsteps move quickly towards the door and open.
This is a godless place.
A face warped and distorted opens the door, its body blacked by the essence of fear and loathing, a blood curdling scream shatters Easton's eardrums causing them to shoot blood, but he cant move, or take his eyes off this billowing shadow, the wolf runs down the steps barking his way out of earshot, the figure tilts its misshapen head, as something sharp plunges into Eastons chest, stopping his heart…
But not shutting his body down.
This nightmare wraps a long claw around Easton's head tugging on his hair, before pulling the back of his head and rips the skin right off his face.
The sound is like tearing a chickens wing from the bone.
And with a sharp gasp Easton awakens. In a room he is not familiar with. His lower body wrapped in a blanket your grandma would own. Slowly swinging his legs around the bed and walking through the bedroom door, voices heard from down the stairs.
“He's lost without you, ive tried so hard to try and distract him but he cant help it, you were his only success, and he just cant let it go. ”
“Normally Lou I would think you're full of shit, but the state he was in… I have to believe you.”
The footfalls on the stairs give him away. The pair's attention turns towards Easton. Lou with a glass coffee mug and…
Emiko.
“This is the exact opposite of what I was hoping would happen.”
“It's alright Lou, I appreciate the effort.”
Easton and Emiko, who is now standing, just stare at each other, the clicking of the wall clock getting louder with each tick.
Tick.
TICK.
Emiko stands up and grabs a pair of car keys out of a glass bowl. Tossing them to Lou.
“Take my truck to the airport, i don't know how you got here but i don't want to see you here again.”
Lou nods, slowly getting and finishing his drink. He motions for Easton to come with him.
“Just so you know. I don't know how I got here, whether it was some force or just tripping balls from the sun. I'm glad to see you doing well even away from the city.”
“You worried for nothing… like always.”
Emiko smirks, which Easton takes as his que to leave, Easton and Lou load into Emikos pick up.
“You told her i was worried about her?”
“What the fuck else was i supposed to talk about, your ass was asleep for so long i had to make conversation… awkward fucking day.”
Lou back out of the long driveway, Easton looking at the freshly painted house, smiling ear to ear.
~~~
The clinking of pickaxe to rock rings through the canyon, the line of men in orange jumpsuits paint an abstract piece of art against the sand. Easton slams his pick into the dense boulder, causing it to dig and slide off. The rattlesnakes would be aggressive towards the miners but the heat is draining their energy.
It's always easy to pick on the guy who worked for what he got, when you skipped to the front of the line, and beat a man I beat 5 minutes beforehand… just so you know who paved the way for you to steal that title belt.
I'm so tired of talking to SYNN. So cold and disconnected, normally the only demons I like to chat with are my own. And that's not a shot at you, it's just that when THEY talk to me they say something actually interesting. And I gotta be careful because… I might just start listening. I might just start taking their advice, like you have, like so many others allowed theirs to do.
Maybe I'll just listen.
But I don't want to talk to SYNN.
I want to talk to Juniper.
Last time i spoke to SYNN i didn't have a lot to say, i spoke shortly, but i meant everything. This time I have a lot to say to you, so if you're standing. You should sit.
I wish I could have seen you in her eyes J, but the black in SYNNs eyes snuffed out your soul down there. You have to be careful Juniper, because SYNN wants what you have. When you let her run she wants to stick around i can just tell, the look she gave me was deathly and chilling, i wish i never saw what she tried to make me see, it wasn't just a gaze it was an attempt to put something into my mind, something that would cripple me, that would just maybe release my SYNN… my sin.
I'm not a sinner, not a liar or a thief. It may seem like it but i don't invest in something i don't believe in, it's why i left. I didn't want to believe in wrestling because it didn't believe in me. Somebody had to pull me from the same darkness they ended up walking into.
The guard pulls up to his side, slamming his baton into Eastons back.
“Quiet Maggot!”
Easton doubles over, using his axe as support, and after taking a second to make sure the guard id out of earshot he continues.
God damn you for trying, and succeeding to get under my skin because Juniper you are certainly a wordsmith, the gift of gab persists in that demon form you take. You scattered me so deep I wanted to fly to Alaska and kick your ass in person, and that's a compliment. And the worst part about it all is you are absolutely, 100% right. About almost… almost all of it.
I aimed for the moon and landed on my ass covered in stardust and dirt. So many people killed my different bids for different things, and I appreciate you putting my name up there with those people. But maaaaaan its fucking hard to rise to the peak when your holding up the foundation of the entire mountian, and fuck me for trying right, fuck me for wanting a significant accomplishment in this business, fuck me for breaking out of a shell your still hiding in. but the fact of the matter is i would rather die trying than live never having tried, i would rather lose and lose and lose and lose ad infinitum than never know what it's like to look my mother in the eyes and say “Momma, this is why i couldn't give you any grandkids, this is why i missed so many holidays.”
His strength starting to fade, every swing digger less and less deep, bouncing off the molten rock. He wipes the sweat from his bow, and continues his cuts.
I fell in love with the OCW world title the moment I stepped in the front door and saw it around Outcasts shoulder. I wanted it more than anything in the entire world… some people would call it the… I know we are not supposed to talk about him but they call it the “Mike Best'' title. But the title you have is brand new… and shiny, it's not the belt that almost drove me off the edge. It means something more to me, because that belt is for the old generation. That's for Matt, for Outcast and for Perzag, they can argue their legacy. This one is for us, for the new kids on the block, and don't take it personally but I need to lead this generation into the prominence that they did, because I don't think you have the spine for it.
Just like every other moment you've had so far it's early, AND that's not me being a hater Juniper, that's me speaking from experience. To have the world placed on your shoulders it's stressful and scary, I'm offering… No, I'm not offering, I will be taking that stress and putting it on myself because I'm ready. I've had the time to think about what I would have to do to make sure I can elevate this place enough to CARVE a spot for us in wrestling. You haven't even had enough time to decide what shoulder you want to carry the belt on. And if you think I'm looking past you, I'm not, I'm looking THROUGH you, and ill i can see is somebody who doesn't want it… Yet.
I have no doubt in my mind that you will win this thing again, but right now i NEED this, I declared to you that i will win my first world title, and it's the truth. That title will be mine because its my fucking destiny.
We might leave that graveyard different people. But I will not think of you any less.
Goodluck Juniper, you're gonna need it.
I'm gonna need it…
Easton comes down on his rock, cracking a line through the boulder. Every hit seems to carry more and more intensity, yelling louder and louder after every strike. His fellow inmates gather around as the guards push through. The final swing comes down cracking the rock open. Easton drops his pick and reaches in, pulling up and raising high.
The OCW World Championship.
Fade to black.
If you weren't privy to the training methods of Lou Phol you would think he's chasing this kid with a KIA, but if you know you know.
Lou leans his head out of the window. “two Hours?! Are you kidding me kid your a fucking machine. Let's see if we can hit two and a half.”
Easton doesn't say a word, just keeps putting one foot in front of the other, with Lou ten feet behind him he's gone completely numb, without a thought in his mind. The thump and scratch of his runners dragged against the road, burning a hole through the sole of his shoe, the tar almost pulling his foot back to his last step like venom. But one foot in front of the other is the only thing he can do.
two hours of running along the open road moves to two and a half, then three. He's mindless, brainless… whatever you want to say the thought of stopping never crossed his mind.
Lou’s shitty rental starts to putt…
Putt
Putt and stutter.
“Woah wait! The car! Kid!”
Ears ringing and mouth dry Easton continues into his 4th hour of running.
The backdrop starts turning white, the midday Alberta sun consuming the entire skyline. Suddenly Eastons legs wobble and he collapses onto one knee. Legs shaking, the calf muscles bulging off his leg he stands but up just barely staying upright.
Strutting up on his left hand side, a large white haired wolf stops parallel on the other side of the dotted yellow line. It looks up at him, a scar over its left eye and panting from the heat. Easton almost doing the same with his heavy laboured breathing, pouring sweat from every part of his body, his shirt soaked in body water. The wolf moves behind Easton nudging the back of his left leg then weaving through his legs moving along the road.
“You want me to follow you.”
Easton’s voice is raspy, and deep. The wolf looks back for a moment before continuing, allowing Easton to run with him for what is anywhere between five minutes and five weeks, time stops counting as Easton and this wolf trot along highway 1. The wolf cuts left into a long driveway that lasts almost as long as the actual road, not even winding or mysterious, you can see the large white house and garage at the end of the path, but as Easton walks down it it almost stitches to become three times longer. The paint on the house is aged and chipped from the years gone by, the steps up to the front door are cracked as the wood is cracked and rotten. Easton follows the wolf up the steps feeling weightless in nature, the wolf stands on his back legs leaning against the door, the scale of the creature now fully on display, almost 6 feet tall standing it takes Easton by surprise as he raises a fist to knock on the door.
THUNK THUNK THUNK.
Glass crashes from the inside of the house, footsteps move quickly towards the door and open.
This is a godless place.
A face warped and distorted opens the door, its body blacked by the essence of fear and loathing, a blood curdling scream shatters Easton's eardrums causing them to shoot blood, but he cant move, or take his eyes off this billowing shadow, the wolf runs down the steps barking his way out of earshot, the figure tilts its misshapen head, as something sharp plunges into Eastons chest, stopping his heart…
But not shutting his body down.
This nightmare wraps a long claw around Easton's head tugging on his hair, before pulling the back of his head and rips the skin right off his face.
The sound is like tearing a chickens wing from the bone.
And with a sharp gasp Easton awakens. In a room he is not familiar with. His lower body wrapped in a blanket your grandma would own. Slowly swinging his legs around the bed and walking through the bedroom door, voices heard from down the stairs.
“He's lost without you, ive tried so hard to try and distract him but he cant help it, you were his only success, and he just cant let it go. ”
“Normally Lou I would think you're full of shit, but the state he was in… I have to believe you.”
The footfalls on the stairs give him away. The pair's attention turns towards Easton. Lou with a glass coffee mug and…
Emiko.
“This is the exact opposite of what I was hoping would happen.”
“It's alright Lou, I appreciate the effort.”
Easton and Emiko, who is now standing, just stare at each other, the clicking of the wall clock getting louder with each tick.
Tick.
TICK.
Emiko stands up and grabs a pair of car keys out of a glass bowl. Tossing them to Lou.
“Take my truck to the airport, i don't know how you got here but i don't want to see you here again.”
Lou nods, slowly getting and finishing his drink. He motions for Easton to come with him.
“Just so you know. I don't know how I got here, whether it was some force or just tripping balls from the sun. I'm glad to see you doing well even away from the city.”
“You worried for nothing… like always.”
Emiko smirks, which Easton takes as his que to leave, Easton and Lou load into Emikos pick up.
“You told her i was worried about her?”
“What the fuck else was i supposed to talk about, your ass was asleep for so long i had to make conversation… awkward fucking day.”
Lou back out of the long driveway, Easton looking at the freshly painted house, smiling ear to ear.
~~~
The clinking of pickaxe to rock rings through the canyon, the line of men in orange jumpsuits paint an abstract piece of art against the sand. Easton slams his pick into the dense boulder, causing it to dig and slide off. The rattlesnakes would be aggressive towards the miners but the heat is draining their energy.
It's always easy to pick on the guy who worked for what he got, when you skipped to the front of the line, and beat a man I beat 5 minutes beforehand… just so you know who paved the way for you to steal that title belt.
I'm so tired of talking to SYNN. So cold and disconnected, normally the only demons I like to chat with are my own. And that's not a shot at you, it's just that when THEY talk to me they say something actually interesting. And I gotta be careful because… I might just start listening. I might just start taking their advice, like you have, like so many others allowed theirs to do.
Maybe I'll just listen.
But I don't want to talk to SYNN.
I want to talk to Juniper.
Last time i spoke to SYNN i didn't have a lot to say, i spoke shortly, but i meant everything. This time I have a lot to say to you, so if you're standing. You should sit.
I wish I could have seen you in her eyes J, but the black in SYNNs eyes snuffed out your soul down there. You have to be careful Juniper, because SYNN wants what you have. When you let her run she wants to stick around i can just tell, the look she gave me was deathly and chilling, i wish i never saw what she tried to make me see, it wasn't just a gaze it was an attempt to put something into my mind, something that would cripple me, that would just maybe release my SYNN… my sin.
I'm not a sinner, not a liar or a thief. It may seem like it but i don't invest in something i don't believe in, it's why i left. I didn't want to believe in wrestling because it didn't believe in me. Somebody had to pull me from the same darkness they ended up walking into.
The guard pulls up to his side, slamming his baton into Eastons back.
“Quiet Maggot!”
Easton doubles over, using his axe as support, and after taking a second to make sure the guard id out of earshot he continues.
God damn you for trying, and succeeding to get under my skin because Juniper you are certainly a wordsmith, the gift of gab persists in that demon form you take. You scattered me so deep I wanted to fly to Alaska and kick your ass in person, and that's a compliment. And the worst part about it all is you are absolutely, 100% right. About almost… almost all of it.
I aimed for the moon and landed on my ass covered in stardust and dirt. So many people killed my different bids for different things, and I appreciate you putting my name up there with those people. But maaaaaan its fucking hard to rise to the peak when your holding up the foundation of the entire mountian, and fuck me for trying right, fuck me for wanting a significant accomplishment in this business, fuck me for breaking out of a shell your still hiding in. but the fact of the matter is i would rather die trying than live never having tried, i would rather lose and lose and lose and lose ad infinitum than never know what it's like to look my mother in the eyes and say “Momma, this is why i couldn't give you any grandkids, this is why i missed so many holidays.”
His strength starting to fade, every swing digger less and less deep, bouncing off the molten rock. He wipes the sweat from his bow, and continues his cuts.
I fell in love with the OCW world title the moment I stepped in the front door and saw it around Outcasts shoulder. I wanted it more than anything in the entire world… some people would call it the… I know we are not supposed to talk about him but they call it the “Mike Best'' title. But the title you have is brand new… and shiny, it's not the belt that almost drove me off the edge. It means something more to me, because that belt is for the old generation. That's for Matt, for Outcast and for Perzag, they can argue their legacy. This one is for us, for the new kids on the block, and don't take it personally but I need to lead this generation into the prominence that they did, because I don't think you have the spine for it.
Just like every other moment you've had so far it's early, AND that's not me being a hater Juniper, that's me speaking from experience. To have the world placed on your shoulders it's stressful and scary, I'm offering… No, I'm not offering, I will be taking that stress and putting it on myself because I'm ready. I've had the time to think about what I would have to do to make sure I can elevate this place enough to CARVE a spot for us in wrestling. You haven't even had enough time to decide what shoulder you want to carry the belt on. And if you think I'm looking past you, I'm not, I'm looking THROUGH you, and ill i can see is somebody who doesn't want it… Yet.
I have no doubt in my mind that you will win this thing again, but right now i NEED this, I declared to you that i will win my first world title, and it's the truth. That title will be mine because its my fucking destiny.
We might leave that graveyard different people. But I will not think of you any less.
Goodluck Juniper, you're gonna need it.
I'm gonna need it…
Easton comes down on his rock, cracking a line through the boulder. Every hit seems to carry more and more intensity, yelling louder and louder after every strike. His fellow inmates gather around as the guards push through. The final swing comes down cracking the rock open. Easton drops his pick and reaches in, pulling up and raising high.
The OCW World Championship.
Fade to black.