Post by CYPHER on May 20, 2022 11:45:33 GMT -5
May, 2022.
Djibouti, Africa.
“You don’t need to do this Tyler.”
Alexandra Callaway stood in the doorway of Cypher’s hotel room, arms folded. She was stunning as usual, all glitz and glam in her high heels and sparkly dress.
Earlier he had promised her that he would go to dinner with her - strictly as friends, of course - while they had some downtime in Djibouti.
That had all changed when a series of messages flooded his phone. The messages contained a series of images of his long-lost sister, Anna.
Now Cypher knew this was no longer a game.
An organisation known as Entity had been messing with him for the past month. Constantly taunting him from the shadows, telling him they had something he wanted. What that actually was had been a mystery to him.
Until an hour ago.
When his phone had been assaulted with a barrage of images.
One.
After.
Another.
Of.
Her.
At first they were pics he had already seen. Taken before she disappeared. They illustrated the carefree blonde-haired girl she once was...
Before the innocence in his sister’s eyes was cruelly ripped away by someone or…something.
Initially Cypher wasn’t fazed. Anna’s disappearance had been a story on every major news channel in South Australia. They had shared as many photos as possible to help volunteers know who they were looking for.
Sure, every time he saw her face he felt like there was a nail being drilled into his heart, the tragedy of losing her replaying in his mind all over again, but he’d learnt to deal with it over the past 10 years. He wasn’t exactly proud of that, every time he forced himself to dissociate from the mental trauma he felt soulless, but it was the only way he could move on.
So he wrote it off as just a troll wanting to get a reaction out of him. During his esports career he’d often have to deal with bottom feeders who tried to get a reaction out of him by spamming links to images of Anna in his twitch chat.
But then the pics being sent through became more sinister.
“Alex, I’m sorry, I’m going.”
Cypher finished tying the laces on his black converse and stood up. He moved to brush past her but she caught his arm, her hand gripping him like a vice.
“Then let me come with you.”
He understood the look in her eyes maybe better than she did. He’d seen it already, in one of the final photos to flash up on the screen of his iPhone.
It was of a woman, bound in a car boot and staring at the camera with wide eyes. In her mouth was a gag, tied tightly to prevent her from speaking. Her bloody nose and black eye intimated that she had been roughed up to some degree.
But it wasn’t the fact that both her hair and eye colour matched that of his sister that made him do a double take.
Nor the fact that she looked roughly about the age she would have been had the numerous missing person reports finally resulted in a breakthrough.
No, it was a little blemish on the underside of her chin that drew his attention. A birthmark, not one that he and Anna had shared, but one that made her instantly recognisable.
The photo was fantastic quality, so there was no doubt in his mind that it was her.
It just HAD to be.
The photo was accompanied by a message from Entity.
“Peekaboo, I see you.”
The following message contained an address, directing him to the wharf on the East side of Djibouti.
“Why don’t we make a deal?”
Maybe he was letting his emotions get the better of him. But if Entity were responsible for the disappearance of his sister - something which had often been pinned on him - then he would make them pay. But first he would play along. If they wanted a “sponsorship” in exchange for his sister? Like they had badgered him for at the hackathon?
Then that wasn’t even a question.
And neither was the notion of letting Alexandra come with him. This was bigger than her, and even if they were tag partners, this cross would be his alone to bear, as it had been for the past decade.
He put his arms on her shoulders and spoke directly.
“Listen, Alex, you can barely beat Tony the Spider, I’m not about to throw you into an actual warzone.”
That drew a scowl from his tag partner, and he chuckled.
“I’m kidding, but seriously, you can’t come. It’s Anna, it’s…personal.”
Alexandra met his gaze for a moment, before her expression eventually softened.
“If you’re not back by midnight, I’m raising the alarm, OK?”
He nodded, knowing it would be practical to at least have a failsafe in case anything went wrong…of which he had to concede there was a high possibility.
“Deal.”
Cypher extended his hand, but Alex batted it away, pulling him into a tight hug. It was warm, and inviting, and for a moment his hands hovered above her body, not exactly sure how to react. He wasn’t used to being hugged by other people, period. But the awkwardness slowly melted away, and he returned the hug, holding her close.
They stayed like that for a brief moment, though it felt like it lasted an eternity. Then he reluctantly pulled away.
“Gotta go.”
…
“I know.”
…
“Goodbye.”
/~/
The ice-cool wind threatened to expose Cypher’s messy black hair as he made his way down to the Djibouti docks, hands taking refuge from the cold in his hoodie's front pouch.
The weather had taken a turn for the worse, and the sea now resembled a churning mess of white foam.
He wasn’t in his natural element outside. He’d always appreciated that wrestling events were generally held in indoor stadiums.
Being outside prompted the familiar feeling of anxiety to swell up in my stomach. So exposed, out in the elements, no computer screen to hide behind.
Part of him felt it was intentional that Entity had specifically requested to meet in an exposed area. They wanted to bring him out of my comfort zone, away from a computer.
Disconnected.
Then again, if he couldn’t brave a little bad weather for a chance to rescue Anna, then he really was a lost cause.
Cypher checked his phone.
8pm, on the dot.
He scanned his surroundings. Nothing but a few seagulls, mindlessly squabbling amongst each other over whatever crumbs of food were left scattered around the bitumen. Bird shit coated the dark surface in a layer of white and brown as discarded fast food wrappers ensnared themselves in the rocks which served as a barrier to prevent anyone from accidentally plunging their cars into the deep. All in all it was a miserable place, a landmark to the carelessness of modern civilisation.
Then, the squeal of tires across the gravel.
A black lambo which looked incredibly out of place in the run-down docks made its entrance, sliding to a stop a few feet away from him.
The front door opened and a man of short stature scurried out. Without looking at Cypher, he made his way to the back door and carefully swung it open.
From within emerged a man dressed in a tidy three-piece blue suit, his brown loafers clapping along the filthy bitumen.
Cypher recognised him. It was the same guy who had approached him at the hackathon.
Aaron Swartz.
“Tyler, what a pleasure it is to see you again.”
He extended his hand.
“Where is she?”
Aaron smirked, withdrawing his hand and swiping away imaginary bits of fluff from the shoulders of his suit jacket.
“No need for formalities…some might call that rude.”
“You tell me where she is, I’ll give you whatever sponsorship you want…I just need to know that she’s OK.”
Click!
In an instant, the chauffeur responded to the click of Aaron’s fingers, making his way over to the boot of the limousine.
He opened it, and beckoned Cypher over. His heart began to beat faster as he glanced back at Aaron, who still had that slimy smirk plastered on his face.
Could this be it? After so long, so many sleepless nights wondering where she was…just wanting to know if she was still…
He rounded the corner to see-
Anna?
Nothing.
An object collided with the back of Cypher’s head with the force of a streamer desk slam. The first impact was followed by a second, and this time his head bounced off the vehicle’s bullbar. He felt consciousness slip as he finally came to rest on the pavement, the world slowly slipping to black.
Anna?
Where are you?
/~/
Believe it or not, I grew up surrounded by strong women.
My mother, as much as I can’t stand her now, cultivated my respect because she was never willing to compromise. She was who she was, unashamedly.
She always spoke her mind even if it was to her detriment. My sister as a firecracker as well, many would say she got the fiery look in her eyes from her mother.
We fought, often, but just as often we would make up and continue to play whatever game it was we were playing.
That’s the kind of mentality I like to bring to this business. I am who I am, and I’m not changing for anyone. People like Lissie, Knox, Dionysus, they wanna make me conform.
Because the way I act doesn’t align with their values of how a “wrestler” or “superstar” should behave.
But I say fuck that, fuck conforming to the standards people like CJ O’Donnell set. We’re our own people, we don’t have to apologise to anyone.
That brings me to you, Sadie Ko.
You’re an enigma.
Something I don’t quite understand
And I’ve often wondered, is that my fault? Is there actually a personality hiding underneath all that creepy bulshit? Or are you truly just a mindless machine existing purely just to cause pain?
Because sure, that’s a great act. It’ll get you hired at the freakshow and get the little kids to shit their pants but in the locker room?
I don’t know what you stand for. What are you fighting for? Who are you fighting for? What motivates you? I feel like you haven’t answered any of these questions since you joined OCW.
I want to be the OCW Champion, I’ve said that as much, no matter what it takes. That might not be a unique goal, but the truth is so many people told me I couldn’t do this. That the skinny kid who got kicked off an esports team would never make anything of himself.
Mum included.
But I respected that, because she didn’t hide behind a veil of manufactured mystique. Neither does Alexandra Calaway. Both strong women who have helped shape me into who I am today. Unfortunately you're not one of those strong women, I think there's an argument that despite your physical strength you're one of the weakest mentally.
I’m glad Easton beat you. It let you know that you aren’t invincible, Sadie, and I think up until then you had been coasting through knowing there’s enough pussies on the roster to pad your win/loss record.
Sure, I’m one of those in your win column, but that was a triple threat - you didn’t actually pin me.
Since then we’ve been at each other’s throats, building a rivalry which could define this era of the new OCW. Except right now we’re not being treated as equals. You’ve got a title shot at the PPV? Me? It seems I’m an afterthought despite pinning the TransAtlantic Champion in the centre of the ring.
Think it’s time for a reminder of just who CYPH3R is.
So that begs the question, Sadie.
They know who I am.
Who the hell are you?
Djibouti, Africa.
“You don’t need to do this Tyler.”
Alexandra Callaway stood in the doorway of Cypher’s hotel room, arms folded. She was stunning as usual, all glitz and glam in her high heels and sparkly dress.
Earlier he had promised her that he would go to dinner with her - strictly as friends, of course - while they had some downtime in Djibouti.
That had all changed when a series of messages flooded his phone. The messages contained a series of images of his long-lost sister, Anna.
Now Cypher knew this was no longer a game.
An organisation known as Entity had been messing with him for the past month. Constantly taunting him from the shadows, telling him they had something he wanted. What that actually was had been a mystery to him.
Until an hour ago.
When his phone had been assaulted with a barrage of images.
One.
After.
Another.
Of.
Her.
At first they were pics he had already seen. Taken before she disappeared. They illustrated the carefree blonde-haired girl she once was...
Before the innocence in his sister’s eyes was cruelly ripped away by someone or…something.
Initially Cypher wasn’t fazed. Anna’s disappearance had been a story on every major news channel in South Australia. They had shared as many photos as possible to help volunteers know who they were looking for.
Sure, every time he saw her face he felt like there was a nail being drilled into his heart, the tragedy of losing her replaying in his mind all over again, but he’d learnt to deal with it over the past 10 years. He wasn’t exactly proud of that, every time he forced himself to dissociate from the mental trauma he felt soulless, but it was the only way he could move on.
So he wrote it off as just a troll wanting to get a reaction out of him. During his esports career he’d often have to deal with bottom feeders who tried to get a reaction out of him by spamming links to images of Anna in his twitch chat.
But then the pics being sent through became more sinister.
“Alex, I’m sorry, I’m going.”
Cypher finished tying the laces on his black converse and stood up. He moved to brush past her but she caught his arm, her hand gripping him like a vice.
“Then let me come with you.”
He understood the look in her eyes maybe better than she did. He’d seen it already, in one of the final photos to flash up on the screen of his iPhone.
It was of a woman, bound in a car boot and staring at the camera with wide eyes. In her mouth was a gag, tied tightly to prevent her from speaking. Her bloody nose and black eye intimated that she had been roughed up to some degree.
But it wasn’t the fact that both her hair and eye colour matched that of his sister that made him do a double take.
Nor the fact that she looked roughly about the age she would have been had the numerous missing person reports finally resulted in a breakthrough.
No, it was a little blemish on the underside of her chin that drew his attention. A birthmark, not one that he and Anna had shared, but one that made her instantly recognisable.
The photo was fantastic quality, so there was no doubt in his mind that it was her.
It just HAD to be.
The photo was accompanied by a message from Entity.
“Peekaboo, I see you.”
The following message contained an address, directing him to the wharf on the East side of Djibouti.
“Why don’t we make a deal?”
Maybe he was letting his emotions get the better of him. But if Entity were responsible for the disappearance of his sister - something which had often been pinned on him - then he would make them pay. But first he would play along. If they wanted a “sponsorship” in exchange for his sister? Like they had badgered him for at the hackathon?
Then that wasn’t even a question.
And neither was the notion of letting Alexandra come with him. This was bigger than her, and even if they were tag partners, this cross would be his alone to bear, as it had been for the past decade.
He put his arms on her shoulders and spoke directly.
“Listen, Alex, you can barely beat Tony the Spider, I’m not about to throw you into an actual warzone.”
That drew a scowl from his tag partner, and he chuckled.
“I’m kidding, but seriously, you can’t come. It’s Anna, it’s…personal.”
Alexandra met his gaze for a moment, before her expression eventually softened.
“If you’re not back by midnight, I’m raising the alarm, OK?”
He nodded, knowing it would be practical to at least have a failsafe in case anything went wrong…of which he had to concede there was a high possibility.
“Deal.”
Cypher extended his hand, but Alex batted it away, pulling him into a tight hug. It was warm, and inviting, and for a moment his hands hovered above her body, not exactly sure how to react. He wasn’t used to being hugged by other people, period. But the awkwardness slowly melted away, and he returned the hug, holding her close.
They stayed like that for a brief moment, though it felt like it lasted an eternity. Then he reluctantly pulled away.
“Gotta go.”
…
“I know.”
…
“Goodbye.”
/~/
The ice-cool wind threatened to expose Cypher’s messy black hair as he made his way down to the Djibouti docks, hands taking refuge from the cold in his hoodie's front pouch.
The weather had taken a turn for the worse, and the sea now resembled a churning mess of white foam.
He wasn’t in his natural element outside. He’d always appreciated that wrestling events were generally held in indoor stadiums.
Being outside prompted the familiar feeling of anxiety to swell up in my stomach. So exposed, out in the elements, no computer screen to hide behind.
Part of him felt it was intentional that Entity had specifically requested to meet in an exposed area. They wanted to bring him out of my comfort zone, away from a computer.
Disconnected.
Then again, if he couldn’t brave a little bad weather for a chance to rescue Anna, then he really was a lost cause.
Cypher checked his phone.
8pm, on the dot.
He scanned his surroundings. Nothing but a few seagulls, mindlessly squabbling amongst each other over whatever crumbs of food were left scattered around the bitumen. Bird shit coated the dark surface in a layer of white and brown as discarded fast food wrappers ensnared themselves in the rocks which served as a barrier to prevent anyone from accidentally plunging their cars into the deep. All in all it was a miserable place, a landmark to the carelessness of modern civilisation.
Then, the squeal of tires across the gravel.
A black lambo which looked incredibly out of place in the run-down docks made its entrance, sliding to a stop a few feet away from him.
The front door opened and a man of short stature scurried out. Without looking at Cypher, he made his way to the back door and carefully swung it open.
From within emerged a man dressed in a tidy three-piece blue suit, his brown loafers clapping along the filthy bitumen.
Cypher recognised him. It was the same guy who had approached him at the hackathon.
Aaron Swartz.
“Tyler, what a pleasure it is to see you again.”
He extended his hand.
“Where is she?”
Aaron smirked, withdrawing his hand and swiping away imaginary bits of fluff from the shoulders of his suit jacket.
“No need for formalities…some might call that rude.”
“You tell me where she is, I’ll give you whatever sponsorship you want…I just need to know that she’s OK.”
Click!
In an instant, the chauffeur responded to the click of Aaron’s fingers, making his way over to the boot of the limousine.
He opened it, and beckoned Cypher over. His heart began to beat faster as he glanced back at Aaron, who still had that slimy smirk plastered on his face.
Could this be it? After so long, so many sleepless nights wondering where she was…just wanting to know if she was still…
He rounded the corner to see-
Anna?
Nothing.
An object collided with the back of Cypher’s head with the force of a streamer desk slam. The first impact was followed by a second, and this time his head bounced off the vehicle’s bullbar. He felt consciousness slip as he finally came to rest on the pavement, the world slowly slipping to black.
Anna?
Where are you?
/~/
Believe it or not, I grew up surrounded by strong women.
My mother, as much as I can’t stand her now, cultivated my respect because she was never willing to compromise. She was who she was, unashamedly.
She always spoke her mind even if it was to her detriment. My sister as a firecracker as well, many would say she got the fiery look in her eyes from her mother.
We fought, often, but just as often we would make up and continue to play whatever game it was we were playing.
That’s the kind of mentality I like to bring to this business. I am who I am, and I’m not changing for anyone. People like Lissie, Knox, Dionysus, they wanna make me conform.
Because the way I act doesn’t align with their values of how a “wrestler” or “superstar” should behave.
But I say fuck that, fuck conforming to the standards people like CJ O’Donnell set. We’re our own people, we don’t have to apologise to anyone.
That brings me to you, Sadie Ko.
You’re an enigma.
Something I don’t quite understand
And I’ve often wondered, is that my fault? Is there actually a personality hiding underneath all that creepy bulshit? Or are you truly just a mindless machine existing purely just to cause pain?
Because sure, that’s a great act. It’ll get you hired at the freakshow and get the little kids to shit their pants but in the locker room?
I don’t know what you stand for. What are you fighting for? Who are you fighting for? What motivates you? I feel like you haven’t answered any of these questions since you joined OCW.
I want to be the OCW Champion, I’ve said that as much, no matter what it takes. That might not be a unique goal, but the truth is so many people told me I couldn’t do this. That the skinny kid who got kicked off an esports team would never make anything of himself.
Mum included.
But I respected that, because she didn’t hide behind a veil of manufactured mystique. Neither does Alexandra Calaway. Both strong women who have helped shape me into who I am today. Unfortunately you're not one of those strong women, I think there's an argument that despite your physical strength you're one of the weakest mentally.
I’m glad Easton beat you. It let you know that you aren’t invincible, Sadie, and I think up until then you had been coasting through knowing there’s enough pussies on the roster to pad your win/loss record.
Sure, I’m one of those in your win column, but that was a triple threat - you didn’t actually pin me.
Since then we’ve been at each other’s throats, building a rivalry which could define this era of the new OCW. Except right now we’re not being treated as equals. You’ve got a title shot at the PPV? Me? It seems I’m an afterthought despite pinning the TransAtlantic Champion in the centre of the ring.
Think it’s time for a reminder of just who CYPH3R is.
So that begs the question, Sadie.
They know who I am.
Who the hell are you?