Those city lights light up the fight
They shine on all the evil things you do tonight
Don't be ashamed, it's just their way
It's how they live and not the kind of place you stay
March 8, 2022"You what?"
Joe sat on the edge of the bed they had been occasionally sharing with his head in his hands, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. There was a pain just behind his eyes that threatened to grow larger the longer this conversation went. He had no one to blame but himself and he was pretty sure he knew how this was going to end.
Earlier in the day, when his wife (ex-wife? lover?) went to work, their daughter found the mask. The mask that he had been using to channel all of his inner demons into so he didn't bring it home with him. It was a form of self-medication to go along with the medication he had already been taking.
She found the mask, Joe yelled at her. Something he never did. Something he regretted doing. And in retrospect, the mask was nothing. It meant nothing to anyone but him. He knew that. He knew that to Lizzie, to Stacy, to anyone, it was a simple prop mask. The only deeper meaning came from what he assigned to it before he headed to the ring.
So it really was his fault, and he hated himself for it.
Stacy was home on her lunch, having taken a half-day. Lizzie was at school, having taken the bus. She said she would "tell mom" what happened, but it was more than likely she'd forget. Children tend to have a short memory. But it couldn't happen again. And part of that was making himself accountable and telling her mother himself.
"I yelled at her," he said. His voice was low, not that it mattered. The room was quiet.
"You yelled," Stacy repeated, sounding almost distant. "Can I ask why?"
He motioned to his bag where the ugly mask sat. It stared at Stacy with its blank, expressionless eyes. She raised an eyebrow. It sat there and took her non-verbal accusations willingly. She shook her head.
"So she grabbed the mask," she said.
"I know", he said. He knew how insane everything sounded. It made sense to him and no one else. And that was fine.
"Joe," she started. She had long since developed an uncanny patience for him. "You can't..."
"I know!" he interrupted, popping up to his feet. "I know. It's nuts. Just..."
He stopped himself. He had a healthy panic attack after it happened, especially as he got Lizzie ready for school. She pouted, she refused to talk to him, but she did as she was told and got on the bus. She gave him one last glare before she stepped on, informing him that yes, she would be telling her mother. So he beat her to the punch.
The panic attack had him catastrophizing. He was convinced this would be the inciting incident that caused him to lose everything he had left. His daughter, what was left of his marriage, all of it. It would all come to an end because he raised his voice once. And not only that, it was over something that was so trivial, it shouldn't have.
After a brief bit of disassociation, with Stacy waiting patiently, he returned to the conversation.
"I know it's crazy. I know the mask means nothing."
It didn't, but he knew when to stop himself from adding to the craziness of a situation.
She sighed. He could see the tension in her face and neck, so he expect some yelling on her end.
"You didn't," she started. She bit her lip, thought for a moment, then pursued the thought that had escaped her. "You didn't hit her, did you?"
A flash of fury shot across Joe's eyes, but he didn't let her see it. He handled himself better, let the moment pass, then took a breath.
"No," he said. "I would never."
"I didn't think so," she added. She then laid a hand on his shoulder. "I know you wouldn't, but when you get like you do, you sometimes scare me. You've done an amazing job keeping that anger hidden from Lizzie, and I love how hard you work at it. So I knew you wouldn't...but I had to ask. And I think you knew that."
Joe shrugged his shoulders. He knew a 'but' was coming. It was just a matter of when.
"Yeah. I appreciate you softening the blow," he said. He didn't. He wanted to get to the consequences right away.
"You know you shouldn't have yelled," she added, with the conclusion he already came to himself. "Especially over something that silly. Just don't do it again, babe."
Joe sat back down and looked up at her. He was confused and she could tell.
"What exactly do you expect me to say?" she asked.
"Honestly?" he asked in response. She nodded. "I thought you were going to scream at me."
An involuntary laugh escaped her throat and she reached up with one hand to cover her mouth. "For what?"
"I don't know, yelling at our kid? Scaring her?"
Stacy shook her head, grinning in spite of the situation. It was serious, and she wasn't making fun of him, but she was a full-time mother and he was a part-time father trying to get more hours. She clearly knew the score.
"Joe, I'll break it to you. You are not the first parent to yell at the kid. You're not even the first parent to yell at OUR kid. Let me guess, she pouted, stamped her feet and gave you the silent treatment?"
Joe rubbed the back of his head, the tension in his own neck starting to lessen. "Yeah, all of that."
"I bet she was sassy, too."
"Just like her mother," he said, a glimmer of smile forming.
"She doesn't like being told no," Stacy said, before sitting next to him. "Anything else?"
He thought for a moment. Every bit of it really did seem like a child's reaction to being told no, even if the way he did it was totally inappropriate. Except...one thing.
"She did hit me before she stormed out," he noted. The strike barely registered as anything more than shock at the time, but he then became focused on his own actions and the consequences and forgot all about it. "It didn't hurt, but the fact that she went so quickly to...to..."
Violence
"..to what she did, it threw me for a loop."
Stacy nodded. "I think that's what's really bothering you."
"I think so too," he agreed. "I don't want her to...be like me, I guess."
"Joe," she said quietly. She leaned against him, putting her head on his shoulder. "She was acting out. We'll just have to tell her that hitting is wrong. She should already know that, but...I guess you doing what you do might confuse her."
"Telling her not to hit is one thing," he said. "I just don't want her to...I'm worried of passing this on." He gestured to his head as he did so. That's all he needed to do, as his bipolar disorder, his psychosis, all of it, was more than familiar to both of them.
"You're nuts, I'm six years sober from painkillers. We all have our cross to bear, Joe."
She placed a hand on his knee now, before scooting closer.
"All we can do is the best we can." she finished. She then pulled her head away and looked at him. "You know how I know you love that girl?"
He turned to face her himself. "How's that?"
"You told me. You didn't have to. You might not have before, when you were keeping all of this a secret. But you told me. Even fearing that, what? Might take her away from you?"
Joe gave a small nod, but said nothing.
"You still told me. Because you wanted what was best for her. So that's why I know you'll do better. Because you love her more than anything. And...I love you for it."
She reached up, pulled him down without any resistance, and kissed him on the lips. He didn't feel as though he deserved the affection, but he returned it just the same.
"Now how about we get some food before I have to go back to work?"
Another day in the world of mental illness. He knew what he did wasn't right, and he knew his illness wouldn't be an excuse. An explanation, but not an excuse. And now he'd just have to continue to work at it.
The two got up and left the room. As they did, he gave a quick glance to the mask. To the darkness that was behind the eyes.
The mask stared back knowingly.
This is how to be
This is how to be
This is how to be a human
April 10, 2022JC found himself inside the SCW ring, just before Climax Control. Deadline for promotional material had long since passed, and he didn't even know if his opponent, Agostino Romano, would even see this prior to their match. But it didn't matter. He had things he wanted to say, to get off his chest. And he didn't want to do it in front of a live crowd.
The truth was, a part of him, Joe, felt shame after his recent loss to Fenris. The rest of him, JC, wanted a rematch. He wanted it so much it made him crazed. He didn't like his own body failing him like that, and he blamed Fenris for it. Fenris accepted the challenge, so he would eventually face his demon.
JC sat against the ring post, with the mask above him, draped over the top turnbuckle, staring downward. Whether it stared at him or his next opponent, no one could say.
"I shouldn't be embarrassed after my loss to Fenris. He is, after all, a former SCW World Champion. His win-loss record speaks for itself. I knew he would be my greatest challenge in SCW and he lived up to the hype. It was a tough battle and yet, I feel like something is missing. I should have been the winner. But as much as I would like to blame Fenris...as much as I would like to crack his skull open for exposing me as weak...I really blame myself."
He glanced up at his audience, his face expressionless but telling.
"I grew too complacent. I wiped out the Troll. I wiped out Austin James Mercer. I took out some other guy whose name I can't even remember. I had forgotten what it was like to lose. And if you aren't cursed with that particular knowledge, you don't fight as fiercely. I truly don't think I gave Fenris my all, because I think part of me thought my victory was a foregone conclusion. I would never take Fenris' win away from him. I can count on one hand the number of men who have choked me out."
He held up a hand as he said this, then lowered it and his face became a scowl.
"But I should have never given him my back to begin with. I'm better than that. There is a version of JC that is better than what you fought, Fenris. And all I need is one more match to show him to you. A JC with nothing to lose is dangerous. A JC fighting not to lose is lethal. So thank you, White Wolf. Thank you for turning over and showing me your belly. Now that I get my rematch, I plan to rip you open."
The scowl remained. He shut his eyes to block out the hateful thoughts, as he needed to focus.
Agostino. Agostino was his opponent. Fenris would have to wait. He absolutely could not track him down backstage and take care of the problem. He wouldn't.
Patience.
"This week, I sadly don't have the White Wolf. I just have a lamb, ready to be slaughtered. The past month or so was my origin story in SCW. The first film in a franchise. The Bogeyman fell once, but he came back for this sequel. Because these days, you gotta have a sequel. We reset. The body count continues but the monster is more powerful, more dangerous. It's such a shame that the comic relief has to go early, but that's the nature of the beast."
JC continued to stare, staring through the object being used to film him and into the very soul of the man he would face in a few hours.
"A fan remarked to me on my social media that I should be insulted for facing a clown like Agostino, but I'm not. If anything, Agostino should be the one that's angry. It's like SCW wants to pad my record before attempting to feed me to Fenris again. Because you may have ability, Agostino, but it hardly matters. SCW could have handed me anyone. There are plenty on this roster that could have given me a fight. Matt Knox. Jack Washington, even Ken Davison's lame ass. But they gave me you. Why?"
He smiled, but there was no humor in it.
"You're expendable. You're someone they can afford to lose, so they're shoving you into the woodchipper. While I can appreciate your talents, can appreciate that you're a three-time Internet Champion, SCW apparently doesn't. Because this company knew the Bogeyman requires a fresh kill. Like the Old Gods, I required a sacrifice to remain sated. I am an angry man, Agostino. And I need to hurt someone. SCW did this, and they offered up you. If I were you, I'd lodge a formal complaint."
At that, Joe chucked to himself, then his face became deadly serious.
"The fun and games are over soon, Agostino. There will be no jokes. There will be no gimmicks. There's just going to be JC beating you within an inch of your life in this very ring. Because that's the way of the world that we live in. I have no time for laughter. I have no use for joy. All I want is your blood. Your pain. I want you to feed me your agony, so The Bogeyman can be resurrected and I can move onto bigger prey."
JC stood up and the viewpoint followed him. He never took his eyes off his audience.
"I commend you for your abilities, Agostino. It's because I know you're good that I plan not to waste any time. I'm going to maim you as soon as possible. I may not be "beast of the cage", or whatever the monkeys at SCW's website called me, but I am a beast. And thanks to Fenris, I'm an altered beast that's going to eat you alive. I commend you for being someone that I shouldn't take lightly. Trust me when I say I don't. I'm giving you all the attention you deserve but none of the attention you want. When you have JC's attention, there's only one thing left for him to do."
He smirked. He had developed his own catchphrase and even he was surprised at how easily he came to it yet again.
"JC kills."
JC walked out of the view of the whoever was watching, and the mask was now front and center. Suddenly, JC's arm reached into frame and pulled it away, as the owner left to prepare for his next match.
