Ghosts of the Past
Scene One | Off-Camera | 21st February 2023
“She loves you, rockstar. Maybe a little obsessed. Wouldn’t be Lulu if she wasn’t a little bit off her tit, but she does love you.”
James wasn’t far off having the bar ready to go. It was surprising how quickly the man could pull things together when he needed to. The top shelf was already covered with older Polaroids of their past. People flashing the bartenders, rows of shots they’d poured, flaming cocktails. There was a ton of these pictures of their history covering the wood of the top shelf front. There was photos of James, Alex and Lauren up there too. His eyes were fixated on the one photo that existed of them all. Alex, James, Luna, Lauren, Harrison and Sullivan. Life had been very different in the past. A bunch of broken kids, hiding behind the substances to keep them from having to deal with their own reality.
“I’m not stupid James. I know she does.”
“And what about you, daddy? How do you feel about our little queen? Your icy heart thawing in the throes of love and passion?”
James set a bottle of Jameson down in front of them. A squeezy bottle filled with house made pickle juice. Four shot glasses, two each. James poured the Jameson, Alex filled the the second shot glasses with the pickle juice.
“Give me time, James. I care for Luna, I do. She’s almost been living in my apartment since you guys turned up. She played nurse when AJM busted my nose. She made sure I was taking the actual rest I needed after the tag match to get on top of some of these lingering pains and injuries. Only thing bruised now is my ego.”
“Seems you have that effect, eh rockstar? You push yourself to your breaking point, then the women who love you have to put you back together. And I know how that sounds Ravey-baby, but ain’t not use in tiptoeing around it. She’s my little sister, and I already done made sure she was safe once. I love you brother, but I got no problem telling you to shape up.”
They raised the shots, clinked glasses and then downed them. Alex hissed slightly from the burn, chasing it with the pickle juice. James knocked back both and breathed out a sigh of relief. The duality to this day wasn’t lost on him. James really was made for the service nightlife. Alex was definitely more in tune with being in the ring.
“I haven’t heard from her much. Besides checking in to make sure I was taking rest, she’s been kind of distant. Bailed out of the last couple of training sessions.”
“She blames herself, Alex. You know that. She beat herself up all week before you even got in the ring. She was always going to take a loss personally. Like I said. Our little queen is a bit off kilter at the best of times. She just needs to get a bit of thunder under her. I’ll talk to her. Let her know you were asking after her, okay daddy? It’ll go a long way.”
“Maybe I should have insisted she hold off longer.”
“Wasn’t your choice, cowboy. Wasn’t your fuckin’ choice and you know it. Now shut up and drink.”
James poured another two shots, and shifted the pickle juice ones away. Straight liquor this time. Again, shooters raised, and then knocked back in one. Again a slight hiss, before a heavy and happy exhale.
“Can I have that one?”
Alex pointed at the picture. The one of all of them. James turned and pulled it down, holding it between his index and middle finger. A small smile as he handed it over.
“Different time. Think that might be the only one with all of us. Convenient that the deadbeat is the one who took it. Didn’t have to cut him out.”
“Yeah, and seems everyone but me knows why he had to be run off.”
James snorted as he moved the shot glasses off the bar top and put them with the other two. He turned his back to Alex and scanned the pictures, pulling two more off. One of Alex and Luna. One of Alex and Lauren. He held his arm behind his back as he continued to look up at them, Alex taking the two Polaroids from him. He held all three, looking at them all. Younger, a more pronounced scar in his hairline, but smiles. They were all smiling. Truly happy smiles. Smiles he hadn’t seen in so long. Not until they’d come to bother him. Not since before they did their trip to his home. To said goodbye.
“Not my right to tell you, Alex. That’s on her. She’ll tell you when she wants to. No sooner. So stop sulking. Stop asking, and just you take a fuckin’ look at those pictures. At your friends. At those gorgeous girls who held only places in their heart for you.”
Alex looked down at the three pictures, and nodded. Sliding two into his shirt pocket, he held the one of him and Lauren. Her smile, her eyes full of life.
“I miss her, James. Not just, miss her. I see her in my dreams. I can hear her voice still. I dream of the things she would say. Forgiveness, acceptance and encouragement. I’m scared of hurting Lu, you know? I’m scared that even though every part of me says to open my heart to her, that if I do, I’ll be ruined again. I know, I know. Not my right, not my choice. But…”
“You take your time, rockstar. Luna will be there. But maybe you should be the one who goes to see her, you know? I’m her brother, I’m always in her corner. She knows I love her. She needs to know you love her too. If the Lauren of your dreams is telling you its okay, then your brain is just telling you what your heart needs to know. Cash on the counter, and fifteen percent tip. Then fuck off, daddy.”
Alex smiled, slipping the final picture into his shirt pocket. He went to pull his wallet out then banged his fist on the counter.
“Damn, seems I forgot my wallet. I’ll get you next time, James.”
James laughed heartily and turned, beaming ear to ear. Deep inside, he knew that James was fighting his own demons. He was running, using the bar to distract himself. Sleeping around again to distract himself. But something was troubling him, deep down. And if there was something that was troubling James like that, Alex was deeply concerned himself.
“Buy her flowers, daddy.”
Luna hated flowers. Alex shook his head, stood up and dusted off his thighs before turning to leave the bar.
Righting the Wrongs
Scene Two | On-Camera | 23rd Febraury 2023
“A broken body leads to regret. And though I beg for the flames of sweet release. The fires that will take me into the next world. I am not free in my pain. I am not free when the galaxy exists in bruising beneath my skin. I am not free when I have to ask for the forgiveness of those who believe in the teachings of The Conspiracy. Freedom is owed to those who take the path to the greatest climax. And in my hand they are guided. In my path they are accepted. In my guidance they are true. For in the truth the flames are rebirthing. Like the phoenix arising from the ashes, truth. Delusion washed away and in that the teachings become clear. The world around you becomes clear. And all in all the one truth becomes just that. The utter golden truth. Alexander Raven is the One True King.”
The night sky glitters in the distance, dotted with many stars. Low light, deep in the darkness. A grassy field stretches into the darkness a small clearing illuminated by a large open fire pit. Trees curl inwards their trunks gnarled by sharp winds. A man stands, wrapped up in a thick coat stretching down to his knees. Hands out stretched to the fire, standing somewhat too close catching the odd ember on his shoes. At constant risk of going up in flames like those he is warming himself near. The bonfire stretching high into the air.
“Every time I fail, humility. I understand better than anyone that loss is the sometimes inevitable. Humility leads to understanding. In my humility I offer acceptance of the outcome. I offer people the opportunity to acknowledge a truth that they have long been in denial of. It is easy to stare down the barrel of a camera and claim that Alexander Raven is nothing but smoke and mirrors. It becomes far harder to prove that truth when Alexander Raven stands across from you. Bigger than you expected, stronger than you expected. Harder hitting than you expected. Smoke and mirrors, yet I stand illuminated in the flames of truth. I stand in the light and refuse to slink back in to the darkness. I stand as the truth. It becomes much harder to deny Alexander Raven when I stand before you. When you’ve hit me with everything you’ve got and I get back up. But sometimes. Sometimes the body gives out. The pain becomes too much. The torture that we put ourselves through to entertain and perform. Held together by string and staples. I make no attempts to hide the pain I am in. I make no attempt to pretend to be stronger than I am. I only aim to prove the truth. That even at my worse, I am still better than most. And this is a fundamental golden truth of my reign as Internet Champion. I’ve taken falls, and yet, I still stand as THE definitive Internet Champion. The King of that ring. And in that I’ve made a choice. I’m cleansing the failures of my past, and rectifying them in a truth. The flames of truth. Rectifying what has been made wrong. I’ve made my choices of who I hold myself against. That’s not in fear of facing those tougher. It is in cleansing the failures that I have once faced. Fenris, defeated. Miles, defeated. Wrongs of the past, righted. Yet there is one more wrong I must right, before I stand before the flames of judgement at Blaze of Glory. O’Malley, you are my next wrong that must be righted.”
“The man who told me, that I had no chance against Fenris. The man who doubted the legitimacy of Alexander Raven. And then the man who embarrassed me more than any one else has when they beat me. See your sleight, is more on me than it is anything else. But that changes nothing. For the sleigh remains the same regardless of the fault. I promised to show Fenris the folly of his ways, and then I fell to you. I promised to show the world the folly of O’Malley and his arrogance, and yet I fell to you. The greatest of titans sometimes fall to smallest of thorns, And so, I must rectify the failure that I faced when I stood against you, O’Malley. But let us re-examine some of the truths that stand before us. If it had been a championship bout, I would no longer be the champion. I would not have received the opportunity to get my redemption against Fenris and Miles. So I must look the good graces in the face and appreciate that you may hold a victory over me, but I still stand as the king. And in that the ability to make right what was wrong. You, O’Malley are my next wrong.”
The man at the fires edge slowly lowers his hands, and slides them into his coat pockets. His face swathed in the shadows cast by the flames on the surrounding trees. Obscured from the sight. He turns his back, and slowly begins to walk around the large bonfire, slow and measured steps. His hands in his pockets fiddling with something. The wind whistles through the leaves, the croak and cry of birds nesting for the night, sticking near the warmth of the flames.
“Another former king, stands before me. A former Internet Champion himself. A man who thought to question the legitimacy of my honesty. A man who said he could see a darkness in me. A darkness in which he would use to his advantage. You’re right, O’Malley. There is a darkness in Alexander Raven. What you see before you is the growth of a man who has worked to fight his demons back to the abyss where they belong. What you see, is the man who spent his life forgiving others for their transgressions. Who forgave the abusive father, because he knew no better. Who forgave his former lover, for betraying his heart. Who forgave himself, for the lost lover that he blamed himself for. The darkness in me, O’Malley. It is my strength. For it is the traumas of the past that continue to push me to be better. To be better than the man I once was. See, I don’t forget things. I am a man who holds a grudge until the grudge has been wiped clean. If you took half a moment to truly listen to what I’ve said, you’d see that. The past haunts me, and I am victim of the grudge. Of wrongs waiting to be righted. Of problems waiting to be fixed. Alexander Remington, Griffin Hawkins, Fenris, Miles Kasey, and even fucking Ken Davison. Wrongs of my past, that I intend to set right. But before any more of that, I have you. I have the man who wished to face me one day for the Internet Championship. A belt, that with every defense I make, I make it the ultimate prize in this here Sin City. You want to use my darkness, O’Malley? You’re welcome to it. I picked you. Let me be very fucking clear. You can say that I am the one who knocks. That I am the cleanser of delusion. The absolver of sin. I am the One True King, O’Malley, and my word is fucking law.”
“So when you belittled me. When you told me, what I should do. I didn’t take kindly to it. See, I made the mistake of looking past you. Underestimating you, because my mind was focused on the bigger threat. Fenris was the focus of my ire, and you got one over me. That’s okay, O’Malley. I can deal with that. I can accept things as they stand. What I cannot accept however, is that you belittled that of which I offered you. You get a win over me, and then you spit in the graces of what is offered and belittle yourself to the grime of this business. You face off with The Troll, Mr Gabriel Wank, and you have the audacity to hold one over me? No, I don’t quite think so. I walked away looking like a half shell of the man I claimed to be. And you went and threw yourself at the scum bottom of our business.”
“Sickening.”
The man slowly removes something from his pocket. A small object, too obscured to entirely make out what it was. In the other hand a cigarette which goes up to his lips. There was the crunching of grass and sticks. From the edges of the darkness, in the treeline, three other figures stepped forward. Hoods up, rugged up in thick winter coats. All faces obscured. One much taller, one shorter, one of similar height to the one walking around the flames.
“But it’s okay, O’Malley. I am a man of forgiveness. I am a man of understanding. I understand that the problems of the future are a danger. I understand what it means to put yourself beyond your comforts. Rattled, shall we say? You’re right, you got one over me. And I would have ran with that. I am not complacent in where I am. I am a man who growth. A man obsessed with the past moulding my future, and it will. It will mould my future, as the crowns of former kings are melted down to build my everlasting throne. I will stand at the apex of this industry, you can mark my fucking words. Because there is a truth, that permeates every aspect of this business. The truth that Alexander Raven is a man of his word. A tough nut to crack. And a man deserving of the respect he does not ask for. A hunter, ready to hunt. Delusional I once was, and delusional I’ll continue to be. Delusion is the pain of man, and I am but a man. We are all but men. But you see, that is our greatest strength. Superiority doesn’t exist in a world where delusion creates grandeur. Grandeur unbecoming of the insects that crawl through the mud! Grandeur unbecoming of the pathetic little worms that attempt to eat at the not yet cold flesh of pulsing throbbing men. Maggots will eat only the dead, and I intend to put all those who would bathe in a delusional grandeur into the worms and maggots. Devoured by the insects that they so willingly step upon. And above it all, The Ravens. The Conspiracy.”
“You see, O’Malley. I am not complacent. I intend to show everyone what their true possibilities are. But to do that, I must right the wrongs. I must melt down the crowns, and I must be the One True King. And I will. You are a chosen sacrifice in my ascension to the apex of the Sin City. For I have learnt, that no matter how much I rattle the foundations of the mixed incest of this place. No matter how many stones I throw at the stained glass lies, I need to get closer to the false sky to truly reveal the world beyond it. My end goals are far reaching, and you O’Malley, are another step on that path. For once my wrongs are righted. Once I cleanse you in the flames of the rebirth, once I step to the Godly one, and take down the heavens themselves, I have one goal in mind. The Blast from the Past is a pathway to my goal. I will be the One True King, and I will go through anyone to get there. Do you hear me, O’Malley? I am not complacent with being second best. I will not play second fiddle to anyone. Fenris learnt the fucking hard way, that I am not second best. I am the one who will stand upon the corpses of all former, and hold my head high. My crown will pierce the stained glass lies, and the truth will fly through the cracks that form. I will hold both Internet and the World if I must. For one true champion must transcend all mortals barriers. For the truth of it, is that a true champion is the one who reaches everyone. In our modern day, there is one truth. Alexander Raven is not smoke and mirrors. Alexander Raven is not hindered by fantasies of grandeur. Hypocritical you may say, I understand. But you need to understand me. You need to understand the lengths that I am willing to go to. To prove that man, is better than fucking gods. That man is the god he so righteously seeks out. Delusional, sure. But I will be delusional if that it is what it takes to show the Broken the power of their own mind. The power of truth. The power of acceptance.”
“I will be their King for I am one of them.”
The man throws the object he was holding into the fire. A large plume of purple flames erupts into the sky high above them, before sizzling down, licks of purple lapping from the enraged bonfire. The people at the edge of the clearing step closer, now forming a line on the opposite side to the man. The man lifts his head fully, Alexander Raven’s face revealed. His eyes manic, his mouth pulled into a wide and erratic smile. The cigarette goes up to his mouth, leaning his face in ridiculously close to the fire, the tip of the cigarette flaring brightly. A deep inhale, as he pulls his face away, and take a few steps back, placing it to his lips.
“Insanity is doing the same thing, over and over and and expecting a different result. Or so they say. Yet I must be fucking insane, O’Malley. For I do the same thing, over and over, and the result always changes. For the truth remains that each person is different to the next. Yet they are so much the same. Sheep to be guided by the Shepherd of their flock. For the Messiah himself was a shepherd of the lambs. His lost lambs seeking retribution and salvation from their sins. For when Eve was tricked into eating the apple, she cursed humanity to a life of free thought. Free will, and free thinking. She unleashed the original sin upon us, and in that, true human life began. Or so they would have us believe. For the story has happened over and over, and so many times has it been rewritten. So I stand here, ready to rewrite the story once more. Do not doubt the legitimacy of what I say, O’Malley. For I am certain of the fate that awaits us. I am certain of the future that will be brought. But I need you, to understand me. I need you to listen. For I am going to share with you, the darkness that you so rightly see. And when you see the darkness, I hope you understand. I hope you understand that you asked to be devoured by it. You asked to control that of which you had no understanding, and for that. For that you will be burnt down in the flames of truth. The flames of illumination. My flames of beginning and my flames of the end. For your crown will be melted down, just like the others. Former kings, desolate castles. And a foundation to my own kingdom. The throne upon which the One True King will sit.”
“That darkness you see? That’s my everything. The drive, the trauma, the pain and the past. It is the thing that wishes to pull me down. The gripping hands of the depression I spend every day of my life fighting off. The pain of the losses that I have experienced begging me to become another fallen victim of their deceit and their control. I am not a happy man, if that is not clear to you O’Malley. That darkness is the fuel that fans the flames of anger that boil deep down inside. That causes the battle between my light and that very darkness. It fuels itself because it needs me to continue to fight to even have a place in the world. For if I give in, and it wins, then it is snuffed. So I must walk that line. Between reality and delusion. Between happy and sad. Between love and hate. I must walk that, and guide my own broken mind into a world that accepts the agony of which I am attempting to escape. I need you to understand this, O’Malley. I need you to understand that I am not doing all of this for the sake of escapism. I am doing all of this for the sake of every broken fucking child, who wants something better. Who needs someone better. Who needs to know that the pain fucking stops. But it doesn’t stop. It doesn’t ever stop. It justs sits there, like the darkness that it is. Clawing at your light and attempting to drag you in to it. But I will not let my light be flushed by the darkness, and you, O’Malley. You will be cleansed in my light. For the flames of truth and retribution will cleanse all the darkness. Do you understand me?”
The three people pull the same strange looking objects from their pocket. The hold them in outstretched hands, Alexander Raven rapidly rounding the pit to the shortest person. He smiles, taking the object and throws it aggressively into the flame. Another stream of purple flame, more of the fire now flickering with streaks of lingering purple. The next person, the tallest’s object is taken. Then thrown. More flame, more purple. The flutter of wings as birds flee their trees, screeching across the sky. Their black silhouettes dotted against the starry sky.
“I, am the Internet Champion. I am, the Broken Messiah and the False Prophet. The absolver of delusion and the cleanser of lies. I will bathe you in the flames of understanding, and when your crown is but another piece of my throne, you will understand, O’Malley. You will understand that the wrong you made in my life. The sleight that you enacted was a bad, bad fucking decision. Smoke and mirrors if you want to it call that. But smoke can suffocate, and glass can cut. I will right this wrong, and then as homage to its namesake. I will send you up in a Blaze of fucking glory.”
The final person is gripped by the shoulders. Alex spins and holds them right up against the flames. The licking tendrils of fire snapping at the coat of the person. His face still stretched with the erratic smile. His eyes darting about on the face of the third figure. They do not struggle or resist, they simply drop the object into the flames. A flash of white, obscuring everything. Spotted visions, blinding streaks of painful light. And then as the bright light dims, the world shows a small table, and sitting on a velvet pillow, the Internet Championship. A single light hangs above, illuminating it.
Three sets of hands stretch out from the darkness, and grab the championship. One either side of the strap, and one at the peak of the faceplate. Slowly they raise it up.
“I am the Internet Champion. I will continue to be The Internet Champion. For this is my crown, and I will not relinquish my crown quietly. Come, come, O’Malley. I will show you my darkness.”
A click, and the light goes out. And then…
Darkness.
Silence.
Nothing.
