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Supercard Roleplays / Graves, Regret and Rage
« Last post by Alexander Raven on January 09, 2026, 07:20:56 PM »Fawkner Memorial Park was a strange little place. Right next to the train station, bright and colourful. It was a place filled with death, and yet. There was a peace to it. A happiness. A memory of lives lived, forever etched in stone and granite. Grave upon grave, yet there was a sombre peace in it all. Alex was glad this was where Lauren was buried. A happy and bright place for her. A place she would have loved. Filled with rows and rows of flowers and hedges. Healthy and green grass. Spaces to be happy with them all. It reminded him of his mother’s grave in a way.
Buried back at their home in Texas. On a hill, constantly overlooking trees and greenery. He’d always wished that his mother had been able to meet Lauren. They would’ve been fast friends, he thought. His mother was always so sweet to the women in his life. Maybe because she wanted to ensure that they never felt like she did. Trapped by a hateful man, with a son who had become so full of anger. She’d worked so hard to love the women he loved, to ensure that he saw the sweetness that came with it all. To show love, through love. A hard woman, but one filled with immeasurable amounts of it.
Two the sweetest women he had ever known, with lives cut too short. A sad reminder of the harshness of the world.
It was strange, being her with Luna. Not because he didn’t want her to be. Hell, he knew Lauren would even want her to be here if she was the one who was bringing light to his life now. No, it was strange because in life, the two of them never really got along. Lauren was a fiercely protective woman. Fiercely protective of the people she loved. Alex hadn’t made it easy for Luna to remain in their lives after her betrayal. Even years later the sting hurt him still. There would always be some resentment there. He knew that. Yet, he was at least at peace with it.
Luna had worked hard to be better than who she once was. To be free of her of demons and ghosts. It was unfortunate for him, that he may never really get that freedom of his own. Tormented by his own ghosts, his own inability to truly move on. The mocking of his father, the berating of Leon. The soft reminders to be better by James. The sweet understandings of Lauren. Common ghosts. Despite it all, sometimes he just wished he could hear his mother again.
She didn’t exist in those torments. Not in the softness like James and Lauren. Not in the cruelty like his father, Leon and The Lost. No, she remained peaceful on her little hill. Never a ghost, never a torturer. For that he was happy. For that he was reminded of the small peace in his life. But still, some days. He just wished he could hear her voice one more time. Telling him she loved him. That she was proud of him. That she would always be there for him. The one person in his life that he truly wished had never left it.
“It’s really pretty here. It smells so alive. I can see why you always came back.” Luna’s voice cut into his thoughts. He smiled a little and nodded, as they slowly strolled through the rows of graves.
They’d eventually come to Lauren’s grave. He suspected it would be a little sad looking. He hadn’t been back in a while to clean it up. Hadn’t been back in a while to talk to her. His heart hurt at the thought. He hadn’t forgotten her. He truly hoped she understood that. That she knew he would never forget her. Just as time went by, and life took hold. It became harder to come back as often. She was always with him. He just hoped she knew that.
“I like it here. It’s peaceful. It’s… serene.” Alex said softly, taking one of Luna’s hands into his own. Lacing their fingers together. Linking them together. A wash of calm. He’d been in control a lot more lately. He wasn’t quite sure what had led to the change. The ghosts were more common, and the grating voices in the back of his mind never really relented. But it had been a hot minute since he was trapped in that room. Perhaps he was slowly starting to put his mind back together. Maybe Mors had been more helpful than he thought.
The short stroll eventually brought them to the grave. Her grave. Lauren’s grave. A wash of calm, a wash of peace. Someone had been kind enough to keep it maintained. Fresh flowers, the grave wiped down and cleaned. Maybe her family had been coming back. They’d fallen out in life, but death was generally a good equaliser and squasher of discontent. He hoped they were doing okay. They deserved peace too.
“I’ll give you a minute. Let me know, okay?” Luna said softly as she pulled her hand from his. A smile that reached her eyes, the gentle brushing of hair from her face. He nodded in response as she began to wander away, taking in the sunlight and the scenery. Leaving him to himself. He turned and sat down slowly in front of her grave. His eyes fixated upon her name. Upon the engraving on the headstone. He’d spent good money on one that would stand the test of time. Almost as pristine today as it was the day she was buried.
“Hey you. Sorry I haven’t visited in a while. Things are just a little hectic these days. I know you’d understand, but. I need to apologise anyway. I miss you. I miss you every day. I miss every damn day. I don’t think my life would be like it is now, if you were still here. I don’t know how I feel about that, you know?” Alex spoke softly, almost whispering. His voice was choked up, tears welling in his eyes. He hadn’t really been emotional here for a long time. Maybe a good sign of his thawing heart. He hoped it was a good sign.
“I’m still so lost, every day. I don’t know who the man in the mirror most of the time is. I don’t recognise myself anymore, you know? James is gone now, and I don’t think I’ll ever really be able to deal with that. The world gets a little bit emptier every day, and I’m struggling. I don’t know how to ask for help. I don’t know how to reach out for it. I put on this mask, and I pretend everything is okay. I have to. I have to pretend to be Alexander Raven every day now. I don’t even know if it’s really that much different anymore.” He sighed as she ran a hand over his face, sniffing deeply. Taking in a deep breath of the flower filled air. A slow exhale as he got control over himself again.
“I love you, Lauren. As much today as I did on your last one. I love you so deeply. Maybe in a different way now, but. The world is darker without you in it. I hope you are proud of me. Truly, I hope you are. I hope I haven’t let you down, but I think I might have. I promise, I’ll be better. I know I’ve broken a few promises, but I won’t break this one. I promise, I will be better.”
He picked up a few stones and began fiddling with them in one hand, lowering his gaze from the grave. The first few tears falling. The first bit of pain truly seeping from his body. A broken man, held together by hope and desperation. He sat there, and he sobbed. He sobbed deeply from the depths of his soul. Not for the first time, but one that was far more cathartic than he ever thought it could be.
He let himself hurt.
Some time passed. He wasn’t sure how long but eventually the sobs stilled themselves. His heaving and sniffling came to a slow end. Then the silence. The light twitter of birds, the rustle of foliage in the light wind. The slight burning of the world under the intensity of the Australian sun. For a moment he just existed. He could almost feel the soft touch of her hand on his cheek. Time dulled memories and the more it went by the less he remembered of it all.
Yet, he would never truly forget. There would always be something to remind him. Remind him of the gentleness of her caress on his skin. The softness of her fingers on his cheek. The sweetness of the woman who loved him for him. Who didn’t shy away from the pain and difficulty. He’d lost two of the most important people he’d ever known, yet. Where he was now, wouldn’t be possible without them. Without James. Without Lauren. Without… Luna.
“Luna’s here today. I know last time I was here; I was telling you about her. About how she’s changed. How hard she’s worked to be better. I think, if you guys met now. You’d have really liked her. Not resented her for hurting me. You were always far more forgiving than I was. She wants to talk to you. I hope that’s okay. I’d really like it if you two could get along. For me, you know? I know its selfish, asking my former wife to get along with my new wife, who we both once resented for her mistreatment of me. Funny life I lead, huh? But please. Just hear her out, okay?” Alex spoke softly, the tears now dry on his face.
Breathing deeply he slowly composed himself again, letting a wash of calm come over him once more. His gaze rising to the headstone once more, staring at the engraving once more. He fiddled with his fingers as he slowly looked around him. He couldn’t see Luna anywhere in the immediate vicinity. He reached down into his pocket, took his phone out and sent a message. A message to let her know he’d had his moment.
“I think I’m going to need you both. For your strength, your confidence. To help me be better. To cleanse these ghosts from my mind. I love you, Lauren. I hope you always knew that.” Alex said softly as he heard the crunch of Luna’s shoes coming closer. He slowly pulled himself to his feet. His body groaning at him under the effort. He smiled as Luna approached. Doing his best to obscure his red eyes in the glare of the sun. She would know, but he didn’t want her seeing the pain.
“Give us a minute?” Luna said softly, as she placed a gentle kiss to Alex’s cheek. He nodded as he turned away. Going for his own little stroll through the place of the dead. Leaving Luna to have her words, to say what she needed to say. For some, talking to the dead wasn’t the done thing. It wasn’t something that brought peace or gave them comfort. For Alex, he never for a moment doubted that they could hear him. Despite his fear of death, there was a constant peace in believing that the dead could still hear him. For a moment tormented by ghosts of his past, it would be wrong to deny the idea of talking to the dead. He breathed deeply, as he slowly wandered around the Memorial Park. Lost in his own mind. Allowing himself to just be at peace for a little while longer.
“It’s funny, listening to you talk Carter. It amuse me, because, deep down, I don’t think you’re comfortable in your own skin. I want to take us back to the end of 2023. I want to take us back to that moment, when you realised that the vitriol wasn’t you. That the incessant need to rip and tear at people. It wasn’t something you truly understood. That you actually felt was necessary. Because I called you on it. I called you out on being inconsistent in your treatment of others. I called you out on your lack of confidence stepping into that match. I called you on being unsure of your place in that match.”
“I told the world, that of all us? You were the one that belonged. I told the world, that you Carter, were the only one who deserved it. It made you think, it made you wonder. It lit a fire in you, that in time led to where you are now. You can deny it if you like, I don’t blame you for wanting to be free of that ideology. To acquiesce anything to Alexander Raven. Nobody wants to give me due credit, due process. I can accept that. I can take that.”
“I can take the hounding, the bashing. The constant smearing of my character. I can take the pounding of something that hasn’t been true for… well, almost a year now. Growth is what we call it. Personal understanding and growth. An acknowledgment of our shortcomings, in order to progress to a better tomorrow. A better future for ourselves, one grounded in success. One grounded in the belief that we are in control of our own path forward. See, I can see a growth in you, Carter. I’ve never denied that. I do everything to see growth in those around me. I want the best of the best, and if you cannot deliver it, then I will hurt you for it.”
“I’ve demanded nothing but excellence from touted Eddie Lyons. Now he has that little weight lifted from his shoulders. He finally felled the demon that he just couldn’t figure out. That played with his mind, that got under his skin. That made him feel legitimate doubt. You want to talk about Eddie Lyons being next in line? Good. I’ve done my best in making sure that he has every confidence in stepping in that ring against you. I’ve made sure he has every confidence in his ability to be the best of the best. To be the next World’s Heavyweight Champion. I’ve done that, because I have seen the potential.”
“The same way, I saw the potential in you. You lost that night, I lost that night. I pinned; James Huntington-Hawkes pinned me. He did it again, and again. The thorn in my side that just wouldn’t come out. See the conspiracist that you seem to still think I am? He would’ve thought a greater plot afoot. A greater plot by the consummate World’s Champion, Carter Casey-Mckinney. To work with Kevin Carter to make sure Alexander Raven didn’t get to the big one. Once upon a time, not too long ago in fact, I would have screamed that from the heavens.”
“I didn’t blame you, Carter. I have learnt that the actions of an individual do not always come from the mechanisations of the sycophants. No, I focused on Kevin Carter. Scared the man more than anyone else ever has, ever will. For a fleeting moment the crowd threw themselves behind me. Baying for the bloodletter to take it. On a technicality, I lost. Visual confirmation of one man before the other, despite the inverse being true. I didn’t scream to the high heavens about the fallacy of it. No, instead, I refocused. I put my mind towards what I needed to. I went and proved my Valor. Became a World Champion and showed that I still could.”
“You however, Carter. You don’t see that. You refuse to grow, once more. You refuse to step up. You refuse to be better tomorrow than you are today, even though you so heavily tell yourself that that is what you are doing. No, in this case, Carter. In this case you are simply trying to prove the naysayers wrong. You aren’t trying to grow; you aren’t trying to improve. You are simply trying to prove that you aren’t out of your depth. So you ignore the world, you ignore the things around you. You forsake your past in hopes that your future will be brighter. You’re not the man I saw the confidence in. No, far from it. You’re a quivering little pup, who barks and barks, snaps and bites.”
“You bite at all because you are so far into the defensive that you cannot comprehend that you don’t need to. I can see it now, Carter. If you somehow manage to retain the Championship. You defy the odds that you feel are so against you. You offer the next opportunity to Eddie Lyons. The first fucking thing that will flow from your mouth with be how he isn’t ready. That as good as he is, he’s just not good enough. That the future doesn’t belong to him just yet. That is how you work, Carter. How you’ve always worked, the more I think on it. It’s the same vitriol, the same hatred you showed towards me. Towards the man who offered you nothing but praise and acknowledgement. Accepted your role in the dance and encouraged you to be confident in it.”
“The same thing you have been time and time again called out on by others. By Alex Jones, by Aiden Reynolds. Countless times by myself. Time and time again, you turn to the same tricks because at the depths of it all. You’re afraid of the past repeating. In your mind, the confidence I demanded of you was your undoing. You took your foot off the gas, and it meant that I got that win over you. That’s how it works for you, doesn’t it? Praise in the off, but tear down in the focus. You lavish him now, but you will tear him down when it benefits you. No different to me, I suppose.”
“There seems to be this idea. That when I lose, I refuse to acknowledge it. Never truly been the case. A period of time when I screamed about hidden agendas, sure. But most of my life, I’ve been able to admit when I’ve been beat. You get used to getting knocked down when you spend your whole time trying to fight up. I always acknowledge my failures, Carter. Always have, always will. There is now growth in denying what happened. Let’s get things clear though. You didn’t beat me. Eddie did. The man I’ve been hounding to be better. To do more. Been digging and tearing at for years now. Demanding excellence. Demanding him to do more tomorrow than he did the day before. That is who beat me, Carter. Not you.”
“In fact, historically. You’ve only managed to do it once, Carter. You only got the win on me, in those very early days. When I was demanding absolutely everything I could. When I beat Fenris, and Ken, and Austin James Mercer. When I beat Miles, and Lachlan Kane. When I was tearing through name after name, you got me. Some might say that counts for me. I’m not that kind of person. I was on a high, but I was running ragged. No excuse for a failure, but the man who was beating legends of this company, week in and week out. He was a shadow of who I am now. You want to talk about earning my way here?”
“I’ve beaten you, twice. Clean as a whistle, and as you would put, with smoke and mirrors, and deception and dirty ploys. I’m no Michael Harris. I’m not going to knock you out with chloroform. I’m not quite so dirty as to ensure that every action is shadowed by two sycophants that I keep in purview to ensure that distraction is constant. My wife, as you continue to refer to her. My wife, my wife. My wife has a fucking name, Carter. I would suggest you start to fucking refer to ‘my wife’ by her name. Luna tips the scales when she deems it necessary. Luna puts her best foot forward when she deems it required. Luna is her own woman and will make her own decisions. If she wishes to affect things, she will. If she does not, she won’t. It is as simple as that.”
“People are their own deciders. People act how they wish to act, and Luna. Luna is not demanded an action from me. Luna is a woman, a grown fucking person, who can make her own decisions. Do not debase her, by simply referring to her as ‘my wife’. You disrespectful fucking cunt.”
“What kind of fucking World Champion refers to someone as a bitch? Who infers her to Lassie, who talks about having a leash for me to use? You want to parade around as if you are something better than what I have told the world you are, and then you debase yourself to such antics? The beloved world champion, who stood their surrounded by children. Children who are going to grow and learn and think that is acceptable to tell people to leave ‘your bitch in her kennel’. You want to talk about about antics, about twisting the narrative. How about we talk about you twisting the narrative in telling people that you are the good guy. That you’re the one to look up to. That people should be attempting to emulate Carter Casey-Mckinney. The man who refers to women as someone’s ‘wife’. Refers to women as a ‘bitch’. Who belittles and tears others down to make himself feel better.”
“You’re going to fucking out-think me, Carter? You’re going to outlast me? I’m not running from you fucking mongrel. I’m not running or hiding. I’m not bailing and I’m not fleeing. The greatest fucking thing is this world for you, is that I cannot do everything I wish I could. Cause mark my fucking words, Carter. In my world, this match? It would’ve been inside a steel fucking cage. Or better yet, those ropes would have been replaced with barbwire, and your body would have been the pincushion of thousands of sharp objects. I would have dragged you pillar to post and bled you dry like the dog you fucking are.”
“You want to me to get angry; I’ll get angry. I made my fucking career of being angry, Carter. Don’t you forget, I am bigger, I am heavier and I am much stronger than you Carter. Don’t mistake my temerity in being unfounded. You want to find that hot button, you fucking found it, Carter. I can take anything you can dish out. I can deal with the accusations and the belittling. I can deal with the blindness, the false confidence and the abuse. The moment however you become a disrespectful fucking cunt, you lose all right to a simple ‘athletic’ contest. You lose all right to fairness and sportsmanship. You get, exactly what I’ve been telling people you deserve.”
“You get fucking bled dry like the stuffed pig you are.”
“A pig of a man, a pig of a person. The self-aggrandising asshole who thinks that he can get away with anything and it will be acceptable. No, Carter. There is no accepting the bullshit you’ve just dribbled. There is no accepting the hatred you spew and hide it behind the idea of being ‘bitchy’ and ‘sassy’. You, Carter, are an awful fucking person, and maybe, just maybe. There is a reason people are trying to hurt you. Maybe there is a fucking reason that people are beginning to see through you. Maybe, just maybe, the poison that seeps from that championship into your soul is beginning to reek. The decaying flesh is becoming more obvious as the mask continues to slip. You are nothing but a maggot. A sycophant. A narcissist in the clothes of an altruist. Surrounding yourself with pleasant imagery to distract everyone.”
“Distract them from the fact that you, Carter. Are nothing but scum.”
“I’ll see you at Inception. No more words, no more lies. No more pretending and no more hiding. I’m coming from you, Carter. I’m coming to hurt you, like I’ve said from day one. I’m coming to tear you down. I’m coming to break you. I’m coming to ensure that you know what, who and why. What you did, who hurt you, and why you are no longer the World’s Heavyweight Champion. Inception marks the beginning of my reign. A reign you so vehemently wish you could stop. A reign you so vehemently wish would never happen.”
“This will be my Inception.”
“I hope you’ve been listening Carter, because after I’m done with you. You’ll be lucky to be breathing.”
Buried back at their home in Texas. On a hill, constantly overlooking trees and greenery. He’d always wished that his mother had been able to meet Lauren. They would’ve been fast friends, he thought. His mother was always so sweet to the women in his life. Maybe because she wanted to ensure that they never felt like she did. Trapped by a hateful man, with a son who had become so full of anger. She’d worked so hard to love the women he loved, to ensure that he saw the sweetness that came with it all. To show love, through love. A hard woman, but one filled with immeasurable amounts of it.
Two the sweetest women he had ever known, with lives cut too short. A sad reminder of the harshness of the world.
It was strange, being her with Luna. Not because he didn’t want her to be. Hell, he knew Lauren would even want her to be here if she was the one who was bringing light to his life now. No, it was strange because in life, the two of them never really got along. Lauren was a fiercely protective woman. Fiercely protective of the people she loved. Alex hadn’t made it easy for Luna to remain in their lives after her betrayal. Even years later the sting hurt him still. There would always be some resentment there. He knew that. Yet, he was at least at peace with it.
Luna had worked hard to be better than who she once was. To be free of her of demons and ghosts. It was unfortunate for him, that he may never really get that freedom of his own. Tormented by his own ghosts, his own inability to truly move on. The mocking of his father, the berating of Leon. The soft reminders to be better by James. The sweet understandings of Lauren. Common ghosts. Despite it all, sometimes he just wished he could hear his mother again.
She didn’t exist in those torments. Not in the softness like James and Lauren. Not in the cruelty like his father, Leon and The Lost. No, she remained peaceful on her little hill. Never a ghost, never a torturer. For that he was happy. For that he was reminded of the small peace in his life. But still, some days. He just wished he could hear her voice one more time. Telling him she loved him. That she was proud of him. That she would always be there for him. The one person in his life that he truly wished had never left it.
“It’s really pretty here. It smells so alive. I can see why you always came back.” Luna’s voice cut into his thoughts. He smiled a little and nodded, as they slowly strolled through the rows of graves.
They’d eventually come to Lauren’s grave. He suspected it would be a little sad looking. He hadn’t been back in a while to clean it up. Hadn’t been back in a while to talk to her. His heart hurt at the thought. He hadn’t forgotten her. He truly hoped she understood that. That she knew he would never forget her. Just as time went by, and life took hold. It became harder to come back as often. She was always with him. He just hoped she knew that.
“I like it here. It’s peaceful. It’s… serene.” Alex said softly, taking one of Luna’s hands into his own. Lacing their fingers together. Linking them together. A wash of calm. He’d been in control a lot more lately. He wasn’t quite sure what had led to the change. The ghosts were more common, and the grating voices in the back of his mind never really relented. But it had been a hot minute since he was trapped in that room. Perhaps he was slowly starting to put his mind back together. Maybe Mors had been more helpful than he thought.
The short stroll eventually brought them to the grave. Her grave. Lauren’s grave. A wash of calm, a wash of peace. Someone had been kind enough to keep it maintained. Fresh flowers, the grave wiped down and cleaned. Maybe her family had been coming back. They’d fallen out in life, but death was generally a good equaliser and squasher of discontent. He hoped they were doing okay. They deserved peace too.
“I’ll give you a minute. Let me know, okay?” Luna said softly as she pulled her hand from his. A smile that reached her eyes, the gentle brushing of hair from her face. He nodded in response as she began to wander away, taking in the sunlight and the scenery. Leaving him to himself. He turned and sat down slowly in front of her grave. His eyes fixated upon her name. Upon the engraving on the headstone. He’d spent good money on one that would stand the test of time. Almost as pristine today as it was the day she was buried.
“Hey you. Sorry I haven’t visited in a while. Things are just a little hectic these days. I know you’d understand, but. I need to apologise anyway. I miss you. I miss you every day. I miss every damn day. I don’t think my life would be like it is now, if you were still here. I don’t know how I feel about that, you know?” Alex spoke softly, almost whispering. His voice was choked up, tears welling in his eyes. He hadn’t really been emotional here for a long time. Maybe a good sign of his thawing heart. He hoped it was a good sign.
“I’m still so lost, every day. I don’t know who the man in the mirror most of the time is. I don’t recognise myself anymore, you know? James is gone now, and I don’t think I’ll ever really be able to deal with that. The world gets a little bit emptier every day, and I’m struggling. I don’t know how to ask for help. I don’t know how to reach out for it. I put on this mask, and I pretend everything is okay. I have to. I have to pretend to be Alexander Raven every day now. I don’t even know if it’s really that much different anymore.” He sighed as she ran a hand over his face, sniffing deeply. Taking in a deep breath of the flower filled air. A slow exhale as he got control over himself again.
“I love you, Lauren. As much today as I did on your last one. I love you so deeply. Maybe in a different way now, but. The world is darker without you in it. I hope you are proud of me. Truly, I hope you are. I hope I haven’t let you down, but I think I might have. I promise, I’ll be better. I know I’ve broken a few promises, but I won’t break this one. I promise, I will be better.”
He picked up a few stones and began fiddling with them in one hand, lowering his gaze from the grave. The first few tears falling. The first bit of pain truly seeping from his body. A broken man, held together by hope and desperation. He sat there, and he sobbed. He sobbed deeply from the depths of his soul. Not for the first time, but one that was far more cathartic than he ever thought it could be.
He let himself hurt.
Some time passed. He wasn’t sure how long but eventually the sobs stilled themselves. His heaving and sniffling came to a slow end. Then the silence. The light twitter of birds, the rustle of foliage in the light wind. The slight burning of the world under the intensity of the Australian sun. For a moment he just existed. He could almost feel the soft touch of her hand on his cheek. Time dulled memories and the more it went by the less he remembered of it all.
Yet, he would never truly forget. There would always be something to remind him. Remind him of the gentleness of her caress on his skin. The softness of her fingers on his cheek. The sweetness of the woman who loved him for him. Who didn’t shy away from the pain and difficulty. He’d lost two of the most important people he’d ever known, yet. Where he was now, wouldn’t be possible without them. Without James. Without Lauren. Without… Luna.
“Luna’s here today. I know last time I was here; I was telling you about her. About how she’s changed. How hard she’s worked to be better. I think, if you guys met now. You’d have really liked her. Not resented her for hurting me. You were always far more forgiving than I was. She wants to talk to you. I hope that’s okay. I’d really like it if you two could get along. For me, you know? I know its selfish, asking my former wife to get along with my new wife, who we both once resented for her mistreatment of me. Funny life I lead, huh? But please. Just hear her out, okay?” Alex spoke softly, the tears now dry on his face.
Breathing deeply he slowly composed himself again, letting a wash of calm come over him once more. His gaze rising to the headstone once more, staring at the engraving once more. He fiddled with his fingers as he slowly looked around him. He couldn’t see Luna anywhere in the immediate vicinity. He reached down into his pocket, took his phone out and sent a message. A message to let her know he’d had his moment.
“I think I’m going to need you both. For your strength, your confidence. To help me be better. To cleanse these ghosts from my mind. I love you, Lauren. I hope you always knew that.” Alex said softly as he heard the crunch of Luna’s shoes coming closer. He slowly pulled himself to his feet. His body groaning at him under the effort. He smiled as Luna approached. Doing his best to obscure his red eyes in the glare of the sun. She would know, but he didn’t want her seeing the pain.
“Give us a minute?” Luna said softly, as she placed a gentle kiss to Alex’s cheek. He nodded as he turned away. Going for his own little stroll through the place of the dead. Leaving Luna to have her words, to say what she needed to say. For some, talking to the dead wasn’t the done thing. It wasn’t something that brought peace or gave them comfort. For Alex, he never for a moment doubted that they could hear him. Despite his fear of death, there was a constant peace in believing that the dead could still hear him. For a moment tormented by ghosts of his past, it would be wrong to deny the idea of talking to the dead. He breathed deeply, as he slowly wandered around the Memorial Park. Lost in his own mind. Allowing himself to just be at peace for a little while longer.
“It’s funny, listening to you talk Carter. It amuse me, because, deep down, I don’t think you’re comfortable in your own skin. I want to take us back to the end of 2023. I want to take us back to that moment, when you realised that the vitriol wasn’t you. That the incessant need to rip and tear at people. It wasn’t something you truly understood. That you actually felt was necessary. Because I called you on it. I called you out on being inconsistent in your treatment of others. I called you out on your lack of confidence stepping into that match. I called you on being unsure of your place in that match.”
“I told the world, that of all us? You were the one that belonged. I told the world, that you Carter, were the only one who deserved it. It made you think, it made you wonder. It lit a fire in you, that in time led to where you are now. You can deny it if you like, I don’t blame you for wanting to be free of that ideology. To acquiesce anything to Alexander Raven. Nobody wants to give me due credit, due process. I can accept that. I can take that.”
“I can take the hounding, the bashing. The constant smearing of my character. I can take the pounding of something that hasn’t been true for… well, almost a year now. Growth is what we call it. Personal understanding and growth. An acknowledgment of our shortcomings, in order to progress to a better tomorrow. A better future for ourselves, one grounded in success. One grounded in the belief that we are in control of our own path forward. See, I can see a growth in you, Carter. I’ve never denied that. I do everything to see growth in those around me. I want the best of the best, and if you cannot deliver it, then I will hurt you for it.”
“I’ve demanded nothing but excellence from touted Eddie Lyons. Now he has that little weight lifted from his shoulders. He finally felled the demon that he just couldn’t figure out. That played with his mind, that got under his skin. That made him feel legitimate doubt. You want to talk about Eddie Lyons being next in line? Good. I’ve done my best in making sure that he has every confidence in stepping in that ring against you. I’ve made sure he has every confidence in his ability to be the best of the best. To be the next World’s Heavyweight Champion. I’ve done that, because I have seen the potential.”
“The same way, I saw the potential in you. You lost that night, I lost that night. I pinned; James Huntington-Hawkes pinned me. He did it again, and again. The thorn in my side that just wouldn’t come out. See the conspiracist that you seem to still think I am? He would’ve thought a greater plot afoot. A greater plot by the consummate World’s Champion, Carter Casey-Mckinney. To work with Kevin Carter to make sure Alexander Raven didn’t get to the big one. Once upon a time, not too long ago in fact, I would have screamed that from the heavens.”
“I didn’t blame you, Carter. I have learnt that the actions of an individual do not always come from the mechanisations of the sycophants. No, I focused on Kevin Carter. Scared the man more than anyone else ever has, ever will. For a fleeting moment the crowd threw themselves behind me. Baying for the bloodletter to take it. On a technicality, I lost. Visual confirmation of one man before the other, despite the inverse being true. I didn’t scream to the high heavens about the fallacy of it. No, instead, I refocused. I put my mind towards what I needed to. I went and proved my Valor. Became a World Champion and showed that I still could.”
“You however, Carter. You don’t see that. You refuse to grow, once more. You refuse to step up. You refuse to be better tomorrow than you are today, even though you so heavily tell yourself that that is what you are doing. No, in this case, Carter. In this case you are simply trying to prove the naysayers wrong. You aren’t trying to grow; you aren’t trying to improve. You are simply trying to prove that you aren’t out of your depth. So you ignore the world, you ignore the things around you. You forsake your past in hopes that your future will be brighter. You’re not the man I saw the confidence in. No, far from it. You’re a quivering little pup, who barks and barks, snaps and bites.”
“You bite at all because you are so far into the defensive that you cannot comprehend that you don’t need to. I can see it now, Carter. If you somehow manage to retain the Championship. You defy the odds that you feel are so against you. You offer the next opportunity to Eddie Lyons. The first fucking thing that will flow from your mouth with be how he isn’t ready. That as good as he is, he’s just not good enough. That the future doesn’t belong to him just yet. That is how you work, Carter. How you’ve always worked, the more I think on it. It’s the same vitriol, the same hatred you showed towards me. Towards the man who offered you nothing but praise and acknowledgement. Accepted your role in the dance and encouraged you to be confident in it.”
“The same thing you have been time and time again called out on by others. By Alex Jones, by Aiden Reynolds. Countless times by myself. Time and time again, you turn to the same tricks because at the depths of it all. You’re afraid of the past repeating. In your mind, the confidence I demanded of you was your undoing. You took your foot off the gas, and it meant that I got that win over you. That’s how it works for you, doesn’t it? Praise in the off, but tear down in the focus. You lavish him now, but you will tear him down when it benefits you. No different to me, I suppose.”
“There seems to be this idea. That when I lose, I refuse to acknowledge it. Never truly been the case. A period of time when I screamed about hidden agendas, sure. But most of my life, I’ve been able to admit when I’ve been beat. You get used to getting knocked down when you spend your whole time trying to fight up. I always acknowledge my failures, Carter. Always have, always will. There is now growth in denying what happened. Let’s get things clear though. You didn’t beat me. Eddie did. The man I’ve been hounding to be better. To do more. Been digging and tearing at for years now. Demanding excellence. Demanding him to do more tomorrow than he did the day before. That is who beat me, Carter. Not you.”
“In fact, historically. You’ve only managed to do it once, Carter. You only got the win on me, in those very early days. When I was demanding absolutely everything I could. When I beat Fenris, and Ken, and Austin James Mercer. When I beat Miles, and Lachlan Kane. When I was tearing through name after name, you got me. Some might say that counts for me. I’m not that kind of person. I was on a high, but I was running ragged. No excuse for a failure, but the man who was beating legends of this company, week in and week out. He was a shadow of who I am now. You want to talk about earning my way here?”
“I’ve beaten you, twice. Clean as a whistle, and as you would put, with smoke and mirrors, and deception and dirty ploys. I’m no Michael Harris. I’m not going to knock you out with chloroform. I’m not quite so dirty as to ensure that every action is shadowed by two sycophants that I keep in purview to ensure that distraction is constant. My wife, as you continue to refer to her. My wife, my wife. My wife has a fucking name, Carter. I would suggest you start to fucking refer to ‘my wife’ by her name. Luna tips the scales when she deems it necessary. Luna puts her best foot forward when she deems it required. Luna is her own woman and will make her own decisions. If she wishes to affect things, she will. If she does not, she won’t. It is as simple as that.”
“People are their own deciders. People act how they wish to act, and Luna. Luna is not demanded an action from me. Luna is a woman, a grown fucking person, who can make her own decisions. Do not debase her, by simply referring to her as ‘my wife’. You disrespectful fucking cunt.”
“What kind of fucking World Champion refers to someone as a bitch? Who infers her to Lassie, who talks about having a leash for me to use? You want to parade around as if you are something better than what I have told the world you are, and then you debase yourself to such antics? The beloved world champion, who stood their surrounded by children. Children who are going to grow and learn and think that is acceptable to tell people to leave ‘your bitch in her kennel’. You want to talk about about antics, about twisting the narrative. How about we talk about you twisting the narrative in telling people that you are the good guy. That you’re the one to look up to. That people should be attempting to emulate Carter Casey-Mckinney. The man who refers to women as someone’s ‘wife’. Refers to women as a ‘bitch’. Who belittles and tears others down to make himself feel better.”
“You’re going to fucking out-think me, Carter? You’re going to outlast me? I’m not running from you fucking mongrel. I’m not running or hiding. I’m not bailing and I’m not fleeing. The greatest fucking thing is this world for you, is that I cannot do everything I wish I could. Cause mark my fucking words, Carter. In my world, this match? It would’ve been inside a steel fucking cage. Or better yet, those ropes would have been replaced with barbwire, and your body would have been the pincushion of thousands of sharp objects. I would have dragged you pillar to post and bled you dry like the dog you fucking are.”
“You want to me to get angry; I’ll get angry. I made my fucking career of being angry, Carter. Don’t you forget, I am bigger, I am heavier and I am much stronger than you Carter. Don’t mistake my temerity in being unfounded. You want to find that hot button, you fucking found it, Carter. I can take anything you can dish out. I can deal with the accusations and the belittling. I can deal with the blindness, the false confidence and the abuse. The moment however you become a disrespectful fucking cunt, you lose all right to a simple ‘athletic’ contest. You lose all right to fairness and sportsmanship. You get, exactly what I’ve been telling people you deserve.”
“You get fucking bled dry like the stuffed pig you are.”
“A pig of a man, a pig of a person. The self-aggrandising asshole who thinks that he can get away with anything and it will be acceptable. No, Carter. There is no accepting the bullshit you’ve just dribbled. There is no accepting the hatred you spew and hide it behind the idea of being ‘bitchy’ and ‘sassy’. You, Carter, are an awful fucking person, and maybe, just maybe. There is a reason people are trying to hurt you. Maybe there is a fucking reason that people are beginning to see through you. Maybe, just maybe, the poison that seeps from that championship into your soul is beginning to reek. The decaying flesh is becoming more obvious as the mask continues to slip. You are nothing but a maggot. A sycophant. A narcissist in the clothes of an altruist. Surrounding yourself with pleasant imagery to distract everyone.”
“Distract them from the fact that you, Carter. Are nothing but scum.”
“I’ll see you at Inception. No more words, no more lies. No more pretending and no more hiding. I’m coming from you, Carter. I’m coming to hurt you, like I’ve said from day one. I’m coming to tear you down. I’m coming to break you. I’m coming to ensure that you know what, who and why. What you did, who hurt you, and why you are no longer the World’s Heavyweight Champion. Inception marks the beginning of my reign. A reign you so vehemently wish you could stop. A reign you so vehemently wish would never happen.”
“This will be my Inception.”
“I hope you’ve been listening Carter, because after I’m done with you. You’ll be lucky to be breathing.”