The following RP is rated mature. It will contain language and violence. If this offends you please take this time to find something else to read. I won’t be mad if you do, but I have to include it for now so that you can understand where Xenos comes from. If you do take time out of your day to read this, constructive criticism would be appreciated. Thank You for your time!
I see the looks. I hear the whispers. People are all the same. You mock what you don’t understand.
Capon Ridge, West Virginia
1996
“Get… your ass… up boy!”
His voice cut through the silence of my room like a hot knife through butter. The slurring of his words shattered the little bit of peace that existed in my life. I wonder how many it was this time. Six? Ten? Twelve? Maybe even more. It didn’t matter though. I knew what was coming.
“I said.”
I guess I was too slow. The first initial shot from the three inch miner’s belt hit my chest and I cringed in pain.
“Get…”
Another shot. This one caught me in my right forearm as I tried to shield my face.
“your…”
I wasn’t so lucky this time. His third shot caught me on the top of my head.
“ass…”
The fourth shot was to my head again. I screamed out in pain as I felt the tears flowing from my eyes.
“up!”
Apparently it wasn’t tears. It was blood coming from my right cheek bone. The metal from the belt had caught me under my right eye.
“Please stop!’
Luckily for me he lost his balance after the fourth shot and stumbled by my bed knocking the small reading lamp I had set up over in the process. I heard the shatter of the lamp as it hit the old wooden floors. He crashed into the wall, cracking the old paneling. I took this opportunity to jump up and try and grab my pants. He shook the stumble off though and caught me square across the back with a fifth and final shot. I fell to the floor like a ton of bricks. My whole body felt like I was on fire and I could feel the trickle of yet more blood running down my spine.
“Please…”
It took all I could to get that one measly word out. I couldn’t catch my breath. The pain coursing through my body was as if hundreds of bricks were sitting on my chest. I tried to push through it as I pulled myself up off the floor. I turned around to see him looking at me with disgust on his face. I reached up to wipe the blood and tear combination off my face as he began to speak again.
“Quit… your… damn… crying!”
I tried closing my eyes to focus on stopping the tears and pain. Hell I didn’t know why I was crying either. I had come to expect this. Ever since Dad was laid off from the mines, six months ago, there wasn’t a moment of the day when I didn’t see him with some kind of alcohol in his hand. So why should today be any different? It wasn’t that bad at first though. He would just have a few to calm his nerves before heading into town to try and find work. Those few drinks slowly turned into more and more with each rejection from an employer. Now I don’t even count them anymore. With the increased drinks came the violence. At first it was a comment here and there. You know those comments that dads say to their sons to pump them up? It progressed from little comments to slaps across the face. Mom would try and step in and at first she was able to calm him down. She could get him to see what he was doing and he’d storm out the back door, with a beer in hand of course.
I guess I deserved them though. At least that’s what I told myself. As one month turned into two, and two turned into three, the slaps turned into clinched fists, and finally came the miner’s belt. I’ve been hit with that belt every day for the last three weeks. I’ve told myself that things will get better. When the coal market comes back and the mines open back up, Dad will be happy again. Once he gets to go back to work everything will change. He’ll stop the drinking, the cussing, the violence… right?
“Please. I’ll stop!”
He held his arms up like he was dog that was begging.
“I’ll stop… I’ll stop… I’m a fucking pansy! No wonder your whore of a mother left! She didn’t want a daughter. She wanted a son. But it turns out that you’re no man at all. It’s like you have a vagina.”
I felt the anger boil up from the depths of my soul. The only part of that statement that was true was that mother did indeed leave. She couldn’t take it anymore and one day she just walked out. At least that what’s he told me. I hadn’t seen her in two months or so now. I had a mixture of emotions when it came to my mother. On one hand I was happy that she was able to get out. On the other I was infuriated that she didn’t take me. Why would she not want to take me with her? I know she saw my pain! As I stared him down I spoke without thinking.
“You want to talk about being a man? A man would provide for his family instead of being a lazy, good for nothing drunk!”
They say that in certain people, if you stare into their eyes, you’ll see nothing but the devil. I saw the devil that day.
I don’t know how long I was out. When I came to I was back on my bedroom floor but the old man was know where to be found. For a moment I would have peace again. I struggled to move. My whole body was still on fire and it felt like I had been hit by a mack truck. It took me ten minutes or so of struggling to get my jeans on. I limped out of my bedroom, down the hall, into the living room. The place was a pig sty. There were piles of empty beer cans, whiskey bottles, and pizza boxes everywhere. I had tried to keep the house clean as best as I could after mom split, but I wasn’t really used to doing any of the cleaning. Mom always took care of everything inside the house. The kitchen was just as bad as the living room. I know I had washed all these dirty dishes … at least I thought I had.
I began looking around for some cleaning supplies. If it took me all week, I was going to get this house back in order. When mom was here there was nothing ever out of place. I needed something from that part of my life to still exist. As I looked under the sink I saw nothing but old plastic Wal-Mart sacks that looked like they had been there for years. I think some were even growing mold. I walked over to what used to be the supplies cabinet. It was as bare as the day they were installed. How could all of this happen around me and me not notice? If I can find a garbage sack I can at least pick some of the mess up. Again … I found nothing. I picked up one of the glasses that was sitting on the sink and slung it across the kitchen watching it shatter into pieces.
“I’m tired of this!!!”
*********************************************************
Delkin Enterprises Headquarters – Denver, Colorado
Present Day
“Mr. Davis?”
Her sultry voice woke me from my thoughts. How long I had been out? It seems to be happening more and more these days. She stood there with her Ipad just looking at me.
“Oh… um… I’m sorry. What?”
She smiled as she shook her head.
“Mr. Delamico is ready to see you now. Follow me.”
She didn’t wait for me to respond. As she turned away I took a brief moment to admire her beautiful figure. A brief moment was it was though because she wasn’t slowing down. I jumped up off the plush leather couch and quickly caught up to her.
“No staring at my ass.”
How’d she know?
“Um. I wasn’t!”
She turned and smile at me while never slowing down.
“Yeah? Ok!”
We came up to some double glass door. She opened them without knocking and we walked right in.
“Mr. Delamico. Mr. Davis is here.”
There behind a huge mahogany desk sat Christian Delamico. He had made a name for himself in many wrestling federations going by the name of Kasheryn. He had since retired and with his long-time rival, Brian Kinney, developed and opened Delkin Enterprises. They would now be specializing in finding the next superstars for today’s wrestling markets. He stood up with a smile on his face and extended his right hand.
“Xander…”
I shook his hand.
“Christian…”
“Please have a seat.”
I heard the double doors close behind me as I sat in front of his desk.
“Did you find the place ok?”
“Yeah that’s right. I didn’t have any problems.”
“Great. How’s life treating since you got out?”
“It’s…”
I paused trying to find the right words to convey the emotions that came with getting out of prison after fourteen or so years.
“Different?”
He smiled as he said it.
“Yeah. Let’s go with different.”
He spun his chair around and walked over to a wet bar that sat behind his desk.
“Do you want a drink?”
I felt my fists clinch and my teeth start grinding hearing him mention the word ‘drink.’
“Easy big fellow. It’s not alcohol. I know how you feel about the shit.”
I took a few deep breaths and felt myself starting to relax. He brought me over a glass of ice water with that ridiculous smirk on his face.
“Thought I forgot already?”
I nodded my head in a ‘yes’ motion.
“Nah buddy. I remember everything you told me while we were on the inside. Still having the flashbacks?”
Again I nodded in a ‘yes’ motion.
“Still the man of few words huh? That’s ok. I like doing the talking anyways.
"Did you think about the offer I made you the day I left?”
I thought back to the day he walked out of the cell. I did remember the offer.
“Yeah. You offered to show me guidance through a sport that you conquered.”
“Ah, so you do remember? And?”
“And I think that’s the only thing I’m going to be able to do just getting out and all.”
“So is that a yes?”
I nodded my head.
“Excellent. I’ve got you a contract to sign with Sin City Wrestling. I’ve checked the federation out and this place will suit our needs.”
I nodded in agreement as I looked over the paperwork. He reached over and pulled the contract back over to his side of the desk.
“This can wait. It’s just a formality anyways. You said earlier that you were still having the flashbacks?”
He looked at me while raising his eyebrows in inquiry. I just shook my head again.
“When’s the last time you had one?”
“Apparently in your lobby…”
“They don’t really stop you know. The only thing you can do is try and control them. Which one was it this time?”
“The beginning…”
“That one again huh? You do know that in order for you to move forward, you have to let go of the past right?”
I looked at him with a puzzling look.
“What is it?”
“How do you let go of the past when all you see is someone who hoards emotions and thoughts?”
For once his smiled disappeared. For once the outspoken Christian Delamico had nothing to say. The silence in the room didn’t help me. I could feel them coming and even after all these years I didn’t know how to stop them or even control them.
*********************************************************
The Mind of Xenos
Present Day
“Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. Can you hear that? You can’t? Oh that’s too bad. It’s because you’re not taking the time from the hustle and bustle of your busy lives to stop and listen to what your mind is really telling you! I can hear it though. I hear the ticking of the internal clock that we’re all born with. The ticking represents the precious moments that we as humans strive for. Time with our husbands … wives … children … parents. Time with our friends … time with our colleges. Yet our existence as a whole forgets to take the time to stop and think about it. Because eventually the ticking stops, and you’re left with nothing but silence.
I, however, have had nothing but time to think about what’s really important in my life. I’ve stopped and listened to every second that my internal clock has given me. The seconds turned to minutes. The minutes turned to hours. The hours to days. The days to years. Yet I’m still here … trapped amongst myself trying to break free from the reigns of tyranny. The dictator controlling everything says I’m not ready for my freedom. He says that I can’t be remorseful to society if I’m given that ‘get out jail free’ card. He’s probably right. Society is not really ready for someone of my stature to be free, walking the streets, mixing with the crowds.
But just because I can’t leave doesn’t mean that others can’t join me. People like Gabriel Vargas. I know that you’re not ready Vargas. You’re all about the hustle and bustle. It’s all you know. You’ve got to be here. You’ve got be there. Yet you don’t take the time to just be in the moment. The boy from the Bronx. New York born. New York bred. At least that’s what I hear. See what I mean though? You’re from the busiest city in the world so you don’t even see what’s going on around you. I can help you with that Vargas. I can show you how to slow down and take in everything that life is trying to give you.
Sin City Wrestling. Key word: Sin. Vargas, we have found ourselves meeting one on one, yet you’re already at a disadvantage before stepping in between the ropes. Size, strength, everything… But what they really won’t tell you is the advantage in numbers that I have over you. You see it as one on one. I see it as an army versus one. The prisoners that are trapped with me fuel my desires. This isn’t David versus Goliath. This isn’t Kain versus Abel. This isn’t even Yin versus Yang. What you have before you Gabriel Vargas versus Xenos and you’ll have nowhere to go. After our match Vargas, you’ll finally able to see everything I’ve been describing to you. It will come to you as clear as a cloudless day. The only problem with that though Vargas, is that the place I’m taking you … Hell would look like a tropical vacation. We’ll be on a boat but this isn’t the River of Styx. Won’t you come join me on the Last Crusade?
Row … Row … Row your boat…"
*********************************************************
Delkin Enterprises Headquarters – Denver, Colorado
Present Day
“Xander!”
I heard some faint clapping.
“Xander!”
I slowly felt myself coming back.
“Xander!”
The glossy look slowly left my eyes and I could focus on Christian sitting there with a video camera.
“It happen again?”
“Yeah buddy… it happened again. This time however, I caught it all on tape. Let’s get you out of here and I’ll show you why I call you Xenos.
*********************************************************
Yeah it’s true … I’ve been a prisoner for the last fourteen years. How I got there will come later. The one thing that I can’t shake is the fact that even though I can walk the streets a free man, I’m still a prisoner to my own mind. The sentence: Life without the possibility of parole.
