Mind = Spun: Hey, Look! We're Both Dead (On The Inside)
Jul 8, 2016 19:58:31 GMT -6
Spencer Adams, Erin Fausse, and 2 more like this
Post by Julian Mercury on Jul 8, 2016 19:58:31 GMT -6
I
“I hope you’re ready. They won’t wait for you to start the service.”
“They certainly will. After all, I’ll be the one carrying the coffin.”
“You say it like you don’t care.”
“And you know that to be true.”
“That I do.”
Julian couldn’t help but look away from the mirror before him to catch a glimpse of the young lady that stood in the doorway to the luxurious, marble-floored bathroom. Her dark hair, perfectly straightened and positively shining fell just below shoulder length, her elegant posture and hazel eyes matching Julian’s near exactly – a trait no doubt given to them by the last name they shared.
She smiled at him warmly, and he knew it to be a genuine one. Out of their entire family, he had only truly gotten along with her, and it didn’t take a long time for him to deduce that the feeling had been mutual the entire time.
Oh, if only you knew the whole story, sweet sister.
“Angelina… I do hope you’re able to hold that smile in at the service.”
She snickered softly, while bringing a delicate finger up to her pink lips.
“Don’t say it too loudly. Father wouldn’t be proud.”
“Actually, I hoped he wouldn’t be.”
“I know, I know.”
She shot a sidelong glance toward a looming clock hooked up high upon a white wall, her mouth twisting into a grimace.
“We’ll have to be going soon. I’ll be seeing you shortly?”
“Indeed.”
The raven haired beauty gave him one last lingering look, before vanishing around the corner. Surely singing the fine tune of sorrow and kindness to the rest of the solemn family, who although were surrounded by their own flesh and blood, felt terribly alone as they each looked out the glass panes of the home, into the beautifully kept gardens and the rising sun above it all. Each of them presumably silently mourning the loss of their most beloved and renowned member of their ‘elite’ family, Nicholas Mercury.
Julian couldn’t help but glance back into the mirror, a stoic and indifferent expression littered over him, a look that he had always been taught to uphold. Don’t give them anything they can use against you.
He couldn’t help but make a miniscule adjustment to the way his collar and tie sat. Strive for perfection, just as he had always been taught.
He couldn’t help but stare himself in the eye and see straight through the façade he had placed over himself. Analyse and tear apart, just as he had always been taught.
“My past is everything I failed to be.
“Today, I will set myself free.” He whispered delicately, as soft as the gentle winds that blew on that fateful day.
Footsteps sounded from around the corner, created by heels striking into the surface of the marble flooring that made up the majority of the household. Attention drawn away from the mirror, Julian turned to meet his mother, whose eyes shone from a mixture of both the held back tears and the bright lights that rained down from the ceiling above. Besides those mysterious green eyes, she was in every way similar to her daughter. The same lengthy black hair, high cheekbones, a slightly curved jawline and full lips that were usually arched in a smile - as if she always knew something you didn’t. Perhaps that was the only feature Julian himself shared with her. His mother’s skin was as pale as the walls that were all around her, ensnaring her in her own household; where joyful memories had transformed into pure nostalgia – and the all too powerful state of melancholy that came along with it.
“Are you ready to go?”
He said nothing, only smiled courteously and nodded in compliance. Please them, then defeat them. Just as he had always been taught.
She eyed him for a moment, before gesturing to follow behind her, which he did. The rest of the family were now awaiting the two of them in the courtyard just outside the home, where limousines awaited their arrival patiently. Black, sleek and somber - eerily similar to the crowd that stood before them, ready to file in one by one.
Julian and Victoria Mercury stood before the huge double door entry to their home, which rose above them like the statues of the legends which had come and gone. The historic figures that were never forgotten; Julian suspected his father would be receiving very much the same type of memorial.
For the last time that day, she turned and laid an eye at her son, managing the weakest of trembling smiles at his fine appearance that day, the one he had maintained for years and years, ever since he was a young boy being taught well by his father. The one who shaped him into themonster man he is today.
“Your Father would be proud, Julian.”
“And I plan to make him even more so, even after today."
Julian couldn’t help but lie. Smooth as silk, soft as a feather, deceive them and they will melt before you. Just as he had always been taught.
Under the cover of night.
Dark wings took flight.
And with the burial of one.
My sentence is done.
Goodbye, Father.
You surely won’t be missed.
II
“Hello, hello, hello. I know, it’s been a while since I’ve last been seen, after I suffered the oh-so crushing defeat that sent me fading away into obscurity, never to be seen again… until now.
“At least, those are the words you can expect to be spilling out of the mouths of The Guardians, the foes in this never-ending story of defeated heroes that never manage to make it out of the starting gates, and when you look at this tale? You’ll see it’s no different.
“Polar, Bonnie… it’s fantastic to make your acquaintance. If you haven’t guessed it already, due to either your overwhelming ignorance or your ever-growing insecurity due to your weakened position here in the UCI, a step down from your former honours and glory… I am Julian Mercury. Yes, here I am in the living flesh, after two months of short-lived appearances that still leave me about as relevant as the two of you are.
“And yes, you just heard me correctly. The famed Polar Phantasm and Bonnie Blue are in the grand scheme of things, still underachieving and still choking when it matters most. Oh yes, we’re dealing with the same old Bonnie, and the same old Polar. The ones who thought themselves destined for greatness, two people who thought they could weave their own tales and craft the ending to their own stories, but that’s just not how it works, now is it?
“Travelling through time, saving the galaxy, it’s all a very noble thing. Yet for all your ability, for all of these moments, you have nothing in the ring to show for it. While I’ve skulked in the shadows, remaining rather obsolete - something that I can assure you was purposely executed, the two of you repeatedly drop the ball without fail, each and every time. No matter what situation you throw yourselves into, no matter what opportunity you’re given, no matter how many chances there are for you to recover what’s left of your dwindling amounts of both talent and relevancy… you manage to screw it up.
“Why don’t we start with the prime example of this, which would be the delightful Bonnie Blue? It’s quite the curious case we’re met with here, especially considering that while this time-travelling extraordinaire is doing that just… travelling through time, she’s permanently stuck in the past. At least, when wrestling is concerned.
“Who remembers a certain group that formed a decent amount of time PRIOR to the incident in Mexico? A group of people who set out to rebel against the overwhelming odds of the “evil” that had spread throughout that federation, the ones who had taken all the gold and glory for themselves. If you remember correctly, little Blue was arguably the most underwhelming of that group of what was it… four people?
“Fast forward a few months, and she’s right back where she started. Granted, the cast is different this time. Now you’ve got true world title contenders and proven talent by your side, but it’s still the same old story, isn’t it? Only the scenery has changed, and the recurring characters are just far more annoying, albeit slightly more talented.
“How does it feel? How does it feel knowing that your whole career has amounted to disappointment after disappointment, failure after failure. For every victory you gain, you’re shot right back down by a stern hand and a cocky smile. Every time, you’ve stepped up to the challenge, pick up the wins for your partner, who by the way is arguably just as underwhelming as you’ve been these past few months… he’s still the one getting the big shot at the World Title, he’s still the one being known for what he achieved in the past.
“And that begs the question, Bonnie…
“What are you known for?
“When it’s all said and done, and we’re much older, looking back at the careers we’ve each had, the greatest moments as well the low points, what are we each going to be seeing?
“In particular, what are YOU going to be seeing?
“Will it be your adventures with the rest of your little team – the adventures that take priority over your floundering wrestling career, the career that flopped the moment you were given your first big match too early? Ever since you looked up into those bright lights and found your heart beating just a little faster than expected, your muscles just a tad more tense and uncomfortable then what you were used to?
“Or maybe, you’ll be standing in the vast emptiness that represents the entirety of your meaningless career, the void that’ll never be filled by any adventures, by any team or label that you desperately attach yourself to, whether it be through sheer will or through desperation. Maybe, you’re bothered by all of this failure more than you decide to let on. You maintain the façade of a smile on your face, the bright attitude and the eagerness to accept any challenge that pops up in your life… but it eats you up inside, doesn’t it? Defeat doesn’t affect me like it does you.
“When I look back at my career and see the list of accolades I’ve gathered up, even with my apparent lack of caring and interest, I’ll laugh. And I’ll be laughing at people like you, Bonnie.
“People that spent all their time trying to “be good and do what’s right.” That’s what it’s all about, right? That’s why a part of you dies on the inside whenever you fail to scrounge up one of those little golden trinkets they like tossing around. You don’t get to feel good on the inside, you don’t get to feel all high and mighty like your buddy Polar. You know, the acclaimed wrestler and rookie of the year, the one who has done it all and cemented his legacy as one of the greats?
“…
“The one who still tries to prove himself, each and every day.
“The one who still struggles to maintain his relevance.
“The one who still tries to see himself as what he was in the past, but can never match the expectation he lays upon himself every night he steps out from behind the curtain in front of the roaring crowd.
“Since we’re already on the subject, let’s move on to how you perceive yourself, Polar.
“What do you see when you look in that mirror? What are you going to see when you finally rid us of your presence and take a quick glance at all those fading memories of when you were seen as one of the best?
“I know what you’re going to see.
“You’re going to see success.
“You’re going to see the good you’ve done.
“You’re going to see this changed world, this broken world, the one that has you trapped - even though you can escape it at any time you please.
“But what you’re going to see, is going to be completely different from what you feel.
“And that? That’s regret.
“You’ll understand once I knock you off your perch. But I have faith, I know you’ll get right back up to your feet. There’ll be a moment of hesitance, a moment where you question what went wrong, and a fleeting moment of guilt as you realize you’ve once again let down the masses, those who look upon you so eagerly.
“You’re trying to be an ideal; a pure white, unblemished. But, you’ve placed yourself on a stained canvas – the tarnished world that for all your efforts… will always be this way, no matter what you say or do.
“Have comfort in knowing that I know exactly how you feel, Polar. Even if I haven’t experienced any of this myself.
“And thanks to this innate understanding… also realize….
“That I’m about to take everything you and your little Blue have left… that fading confidence, those final remnants of what you have left in your lives…
“And tear it all apart.
“Forever.”
III
When I told the rest of the esteemed Mercury family that I would become a wrestler, achieve greatness and step out of my father’s shadow, they laughed. And rightfully so – they know me far too well to believe such a claim. No, this idea to fight and destroy doesn’t have any real reason behind it, no super-secret ulterior motive that convinces me to step into the ring with a bunch of lunatics and glory hunting no-names who hope to etch their name into the record books. That never has and never will be my thing, speak to anyone who seems to think they have an understanding of my inner workings and they’ll tell you. Oh yes, Julian Mercury has had everything handed to him, he doesn’t have the competitive nature of those that surround him, he’s just another rich kid who believes he should just be given everything on a fine silver platter.
Perhaps they’re right, perhaps my complacency and upbringing is what landed me here in the first place, on the short flight from New York City to Madison. It’s almost hilarious, the fact that in a few months this will all be a routine. Travelling from city to city, tarnishing the relationships and perhaps even the reputation of my family with the oh-so horrid actions I’ll be performing in the ring. How sad, the renowned Mercury family toppling down into a crumbling heap all because their idiot son couldn’t seem to get his head around his father’s death. I’m sure that will be the story getting shoved down the throats of all the overzealous plebs from the media, all eager to find the next piece of dramatic news, so when they’re sitting around the dinner table and are finally done discussing all the horrid happenings thanks to “1he wav3”, they’ll be able to turn their attention to me.
But, isn’t that what’ll be happening anyway? It’s only a matter of time before the delusions of the public fade away and they see me for what I really am. Oh, sure. It’s all fun and games at first, results don’t matter. Most people, my family included, only seem to think this is some kind of outlet for me.
This isn’t an outlet.
I don’t need an outlet.
I’m not Andre Holmes, having to resort to violence and angry screams every time something – or someone, gets under my skin.
I’m not Mister McMorris, who expresses shock and horror at the sight of death. Ironic, isn’t it? How unfortunate it must’ve been for him to watch that poor, poor woman die in front of his eyes. Funnily enough, I have a similar tale to tell, though my experience was far more pleasurable than it must’ve been for our poor little crow. Perhaps when we meet I’ll give him the same treatment, not that it’d matter – he’ll just rise again.
Just like everyone else does.
Until I make certain they don’t get back up.
But, there’s no need for that, is there? There’s nothing left for me to achieve; I was already finished a long time ago. Maybe that can explain why I laugh in the face of defeat, why the doubts and insecurities that seem to plague near everyone that steps into that ring. They do it for a reason, for many of them it isn’t just a dream – it’s something they cling to, something that keeps them sane, the one thing that keeps them going. What happens when you take that away?
I plan to find that out.
Although I must admit, in this crowd of relatively unfamiliar faces, there is one that stands out to me. Someone that I could say feels entirely similar to me – yet at the same time is completely differ-
The calm sounds of soft bells and ocean waves emanates from the phone laid out on the uninspiring glass table before me. Naturally, my hand darts out and brings the phone back to me, reflexes trained by my beloved father. Thanks a lot, Dad.
I answer the call, bringing the phone up to my ear whilst instinctively checking myself in the subpar reflection of the glass table. Strive for perfection.
“Hello. Julian Mercury speaking.” I ask, trying my very best to muster up a light-hearted tone. I suspect it doesn’t matter, as the man behind the other line doesn’t miss a beat.
“I have a proposition to make.”
My mind races momentarily, trying to place both the voice which sounds vaguely familiar, largely in part to the subtle arrogance held within it.
“Do I know you?”
“Now that doesn’t really matter, now does it?”
“Name?”
“Pembry.”
Again, vaguely familiar.
Yet no connection made.
“Okay Pembry, now what would this proposition be? Something to do with the family business, I assume? Well I regret to inform you that I no longer-“
“Be quiet. Look at the image that’s about to come through to you.”
Sure enough, I receive an image from the same number.
A woman, around my age presumably with brown hair, same colour for the eyes. It takes me less than two seconds to identify her.
What a surprise.
“Do you know this woman?”
“You could say that. What does she have to do with your proposition?”
Even though I ask the question, I already know what's coming. There's a moment of silence from the other end, before I hear him growl out...
“Eliminate her.”
He hangs up, only a few moments later does another message come through from the same number. ‘more details later. delete every message as they come through.’
Before doing as he wishes, I take one last lingering look at the image of the woman, with the sweet smile and the clearly hidden agenda behind it.
How unfortunate.
“I hope you’re ready. They won’t wait for you to start the service.”
“They certainly will. After all, I’ll be the one carrying the coffin.”
“You say it like you don’t care.”
“And you know that to be true.”
“That I do.”
Julian couldn’t help but look away from the mirror before him to catch a glimpse of the young lady that stood in the doorway to the luxurious, marble-floored bathroom. Her dark hair, perfectly straightened and positively shining fell just below shoulder length, her elegant posture and hazel eyes matching Julian’s near exactly – a trait no doubt given to them by the last name they shared.
She smiled at him warmly, and he knew it to be a genuine one. Out of their entire family, he had only truly gotten along with her, and it didn’t take a long time for him to deduce that the feeling had been mutual the entire time.
Oh, if only you knew the whole story, sweet sister.
“Angelina… I do hope you’re able to hold that smile in at the service.”
She snickered softly, while bringing a delicate finger up to her pink lips.
“Don’t say it too loudly. Father wouldn’t be proud.”
“Actually, I hoped he wouldn’t be.”
“I know, I know.”
She shot a sidelong glance toward a looming clock hooked up high upon a white wall, her mouth twisting into a grimace.
“We’ll have to be going soon. I’ll be seeing you shortly?”
“Indeed.”
The raven haired beauty gave him one last lingering look, before vanishing around the corner. Surely singing the fine tune of sorrow and kindness to the rest of the solemn family, who although were surrounded by their own flesh and blood, felt terribly alone as they each looked out the glass panes of the home, into the beautifully kept gardens and the rising sun above it all. Each of them presumably silently mourning the loss of their most beloved and renowned member of their ‘elite’ family, Nicholas Mercury.
Julian couldn’t help but glance back into the mirror, a stoic and indifferent expression littered over him, a look that he had always been taught to uphold. Don’t give them anything they can use against you.
He couldn’t help but make a miniscule adjustment to the way his collar and tie sat. Strive for perfection, just as he had always been taught.
He couldn’t help but stare himself in the eye and see straight through the façade he had placed over himself. Analyse and tear apart, just as he had always been taught.
“My past is everything I failed to be.
“Today, I will set myself free.” He whispered delicately, as soft as the gentle winds that blew on that fateful day.
Footsteps sounded from around the corner, created by heels striking into the surface of the marble flooring that made up the majority of the household. Attention drawn away from the mirror, Julian turned to meet his mother, whose eyes shone from a mixture of both the held back tears and the bright lights that rained down from the ceiling above. Besides those mysterious green eyes, she was in every way similar to her daughter. The same lengthy black hair, high cheekbones, a slightly curved jawline and full lips that were usually arched in a smile - as if she always knew something you didn’t. Perhaps that was the only feature Julian himself shared with her. His mother’s skin was as pale as the walls that were all around her, ensnaring her in her own household; where joyful memories had transformed into pure nostalgia – and the all too powerful state of melancholy that came along with it.
“Are you ready to go?”
He said nothing, only smiled courteously and nodded in compliance. Please them, then defeat them. Just as he had always been taught.
She eyed him for a moment, before gesturing to follow behind her, which he did. The rest of the family were now awaiting the two of them in the courtyard just outside the home, where limousines awaited their arrival patiently. Black, sleek and somber - eerily similar to the crowd that stood before them, ready to file in one by one.
Julian and Victoria Mercury stood before the huge double door entry to their home, which rose above them like the statues of the legends which had come and gone. The historic figures that were never forgotten; Julian suspected his father would be receiving very much the same type of memorial.
For the last time that day, she turned and laid an eye at her son, managing the weakest of trembling smiles at his fine appearance that day, the one he had maintained for years and years, ever since he was a young boy being taught well by his father. The one who shaped him into the
“Your Father would be proud, Julian.”
“And I plan to make him even more so, even after today."
Julian couldn’t help but lie. Smooth as silk, soft as a feather, deceive them and they will melt before you. Just as he had always been taught.
Under the cover of night.
Dark wings took flight.
And with the burial of one.
My sentence is done.
Goodbye, Father.
You surely won’t be missed.
II
“Hello, hello, hello. I know, it’s been a while since I’ve last been seen, after I suffered the oh-so crushing defeat that sent me fading away into obscurity, never to be seen again… until now.
“At least, those are the words you can expect to be spilling out of the mouths of The Guardians, the foes in this never-ending story of defeated heroes that never manage to make it out of the starting gates, and when you look at this tale? You’ll see it’s no different.
“Polar, Bonnie… it’s fantastic to make your acquaintance. If you haven’t guessed it already, due to either your overwhelming ignorance or your ever-growing insecurity due to your weakened position here in the UCI, a step down from your former honours and glory… I am Julian Mercury. Yes, here I am in the living flesh, after two months of short-lived appearances that still leave me about as relevant as the two of you are.
“And yes, you just heard me correctly. The famed Polar Phantasm and Bonnie Blue are in the grand scheme of things, still underachieving and still choking when it matters most. Oh yes, we’re dealing with the same old Bonnie, and the same old Polar. The ones who thought themselves destined for greatness, two people who thought they could weave their own tales and craft the ending to their own stories, but that’s just not how it works, now is it?
“Travelling through time, saving the galaxy, it’s all a very noble thing. Yet for all your ability, for all of these moments, you have nothing in the ring to show for it. While I’ve skulked in the shadows, remaining rather obsolete - something that I can assure you was purposely executed, the two of you repeatedly drop the ball without fail, each and every time. No matter what situation you throw yourselves into, no matter what opportunity you’re given, no matter how many chances there are for you to recover what’s left of your dwindling amounts of both talent and relevancy… you manage to screw it up.
“Why don’t we start with the prime example of this, which would be the delightful Bonnie Blue? It’s quite the curious case we’re met with here, especially considering that while this time-travelling extraordinaire is doing that just… travelling through time, she’s permanently stuck in the past. At least, when wrestling is concerned.
“Who remembers a certain group that formed a decent amount of time PRIOR to the incident in Mexico? A group of people who set out to rebel against the overwhelming odds of the “evil” that had spread throughout that federation, the ones who had taken all the gold and glory for themselves. If you remember correctly, little Blue was arguably the most underwhelming of that group of what was it… four people?
“Fast forward a few months, and she’s right back where she started. Granted, the cast is different this time. Now you’ve got true world title contenders and proven talent by your side, but it’s still the same old story, isn’t it? Only the scenery has changed, and the recurring characters are just far more annoying, albeit slightly more talented.
“How does it feel? How does it feel knowing that your whole career has amounted to disappointment after disappointment, failure after failure. For every victory you gain, you’re shot right back down by a stern hand and a cocky smile. Every time, you’ve stepped up to the challenge, pick up the wins for your partner, who by the way is arguably just as underwhelming as you’ve been these past few months… he’s still the one getting the big shot at the World Title, he’s still the one being known for what he achieved in the past.
“And that begs the question, Bonnie…
“What are you known for?
“When it’s all said and done, and we’re much older, looking back at the careers we’ve each had, the greatest moments as well the low points, what are we each going to be seeing?
“In particular, what are YOU going to be seeing?
“Will it be your adventures with the rest of your little team – the adventures that take priority over your floundering wrestling career, the career that flopped the moment you were given your first big match too early? Ever since you looked up into those bright lights and found your heart beating just a little faster than expected, your muscles just a tad more tense and uncomfortable then what you were used to?
“Or maybe, you’ll be standing in the vast emptiness that represents the entirety of your meaningless career, the void that’ll never be filled by any adventures, by any team or label that you desperately attach yourself to, whether it be through sheer will or through desperation. Maybe, you’re bothered by all of this failure more than you decide to let on. You maintain the façade of a smile on your face, the bright attitude and the eagerness to accept any challenge that pops up in your life… but it eats you up inside, doesn’t it? Defeat doesn’t affect me like it does you.
“When I look back at my career and see the list of accolades I’ve gathered up, even with my apparent lack of caring and interest, I’ll laugh. And I’ll be laughing at people like you, Bonnie.
“People that spent all their time trying to “be good and do what’s right.” That’s what it’s all about, right? That’s why a part of you dies on the inside whenever you fail to scrounge up one of those little golden trinkets they like tossing around. You don’t get to feel good on the inside, you don’t get to feel all high and mighty like your buddy Polar. You know, the acclaimed wrestler and rookie of the year, the one who has done it all and cemented his legacy as one of the greats?
“…
“The one who still tries to prove himself, each and every day.
“The one who still struggles to maintain his relevance.
“The one who still tries to see himself as what he was in the past, but can never match the expectation he lays upon himself every night he steps out from behind the curtain in front of the roaring crowd.
“Since we’re already on the subject, let’s move on to how you perceive yourself, Polar.
“What do you see when you look in that mirror? What are you going to see when you finally rid us of your presence and take a quick glance at all those fading memories of when you were seen as one of the best?
“I know what you’re going to see.
“You’re going to see success.
“You’re going to see the good you’ve done.
“You’re going to see this changed world, this broken world, the one that has you trapped - even though you can escape it at any time you please.
“But what you’re going to see, is going to be completely different from what you feel.
“And that? That’s regret.
“You’ll understand once I knock you off your perch. But I have faith, I know you’ll get right back up to your feet. There’ll be a moment of hesitance, a moment where you question what went wrong, and a fleeting moment of guilt as you realize you’ve once again let down the masses, those who look upon you so eagerly.
“You’re trying to be an ideal; a pure white, unblemished. But, you’ve placed yourself on a stained canvas – the tarnished world that for all your efforts… will always be this way, no matter what you say or do.
“Have comfort in knowing that I know exactly how you feel, Polar. Even if I haven’t experienced any of this myself.
“And thanks to this innate understanding… also realize….
“That I’m about to take everything you and your little Blue have left… that fading confidence, those final remnants of what you have left in your lives…
“And tear it all apart.
“Forever.”
III
When I told the rest of the esteemed Mercury family that I would become a wrestler, achieve greatness and step out of my father’s shadow, they laughed. And rightfully so – they know me far too well to believe such a claim. No, this idea to fight and destroy doesn’t have any real reason behind it, no super-secret ulterior motive that convinces me to step into the ring with a bunch of lunatics and glory hunting no-names who hope to etch their name into the record books. That never has and never will be my thing, speak to anyone who seems to think they have an understanding of my inner workings and they’ll tell you. Oh yes, Julian Mercury has had everything handed to him, he doesn’t have the competitive nature of those that surround him, he’s just another rich kid who believes he should just be given everything on a fine silver platter.
Perhaps they’re right, perhaps my complacency and upbringing is what landed me here in the first place, on the short flight from New York City to Madison. It’s almost hilarious, the fact that in a few months this will all be a routine. Travelling from city to city, tarnishing the relationships and perhaps even the reputation of my family with the oh-so horrid actions I’ll be performing in the ring. How sad, the renowned Mercury family toppling down into a crumbling heap all because their idiot son couldn’t seem to get his head around his father’s death. I’m sure that will be the story getting shoved down the throats of all the overzealous plebs from the media, all eager to find the next piece of dramatic news, so when they’re sitting around the dinner table and are finally done discussing all the horrid happenings thanks to “1he wav3”, they’ll be able to turn their attention to me.
But, isn’t that what’ll be happening anyway? It’s only a matter of time before the delusions of the public fade away and they see me for what I really am. Oh, sure. It’s all fun and games at first, results don’t matter. Most people, my family included, only seem to think this is some kind of outlet for me.
This isn’t an outlet.
I don’t need an outlet.
I’m not Andre Holmes, having to resort to violence and angry screams every time something – or someone, gets under my skin.
I’m not Mister McMorris, who expresses shock and horror at the sight of death. Ironic, isn’t it? How unfortunate it must’ve been for him to watch that poor, poor woman die in front of his eyes. Funnily enough, I have a similar tale to tell, though my experience was far more pleasurable than it must’ve been for our poor little crow. Perhaps when we meet I’ll give him the same treatment, not that it’d matter – he’ll just rise again.
Just like everyone else does.
Until I make certain they don’t get back up.
But, there’s no need for that, is there? There’s nothing left for me to achieve; I was already finished a long time ago. Maybe that can explain why I laugh in the face of defeat, why the doubts and insecurities that seem to plague near everyone that steps into that ring. They do it for a reason, for many of them it isn’t just a dream – it’s something they cling to, something that keeps them sane, the one thing that keeps them going. What happens when you take that away?
I plan to find that out.
Although I must admit, in this crowd of relatively unfamiliar faces, there is one that stands out to me. Someone that I could say feels entirely similar to me – yet at the same time is completely differ-
The calm sounds of soft bells and ocean waves emanates from the phone laid out on the uninspiring glass table before me. Naturally, my hand darts out and brings the phone back to me, reflexes trained by my beloved father. Thanks a lot, Dad.
I answer the call, bringing the phone up to my ear whilst instinctively checking myself in the subpar reflection of the glass table. Strive for perfection.
“Hello. Julian Mercury speaking.” I ask, trying my very best to muster up a light-hearted tone. I suspect it doesn’t matter, as the man behind the other line doesn’t miss a beat.
“I have a proposition to make.”
My mind races momentarily, trying to place both the voice which sounds vaguely familiar, largely in part to the subtle arrogance held within it.
“Do I know you?”
“Now that doesn’t really matter, now does it?”
“Name?”
“Pembry.”
Again, vaguely familiar.
Yet no connection made.
“Okay Pembry, now what would this proposition be? Something to do with the family business, I assume? Well I regret to inform you that I no longer-“
“Be quiet. Look at the image that’s about to come through to you.”
Sure enough, I receive an image from the same number.
A woman, around my age presumably with brown hair, same colour for the eyes. It takes me less than two seconds to identify her.
What a surprise.
“Do you know this woman?”
“You could say that. What does she have to do with your proposition?”
Even though I ask the question, I already know what's coming. There's a moment of silence from the other end, before I hear him growl out...
“Eliminate her.”
He hangs up, only a few moments later does another message come through from the same number. ‘more details later. delete every message as they come through.’
Before doing as he wishes, I take one last lingering look at the image of the woman, with the sweet smile and the clearly hidden agenda behind it.
How unfortunate.
