“I feel like I’ve been here forever. No matter what I do, I just can’t seem to leave.” Alexander said to the gaping void before him. A void that was more like a room, a familiar room. A world that he felt like he was spending every day inside of. For a time he couldn’t quite put his finger on, he’d felt trapped. Stuck in this place, wondering if the next time he opened the door he’d finally be able to leave. His mind was holding him hostage. Watching the world exist beyond the windows to the soul.
The ghosts of torture were no less real than this room, but it was infuriating. Staring at this place knowing that he couldn’t be free of it. That the only peace he had was the moments he spent with Luna. He wasn’t even really sure if it was really her, but in the moments where she was present. He felt sane. Felt safe. Felt like he could simply slip away, but he had to stay present. He had to be there at this moment, to ensure that she didn’t just leave him. That he didn’t just run away. He had to be here with her, because at any moment…
The world would change.
His hand on the door handle once more, twisting and opening. Pushing it open, wondering if this time he’d be free of his own mind. That the voices for just a moment would let him be. That they would let him leave this place. Yet as he turned it, opened and stepped through. It would just shift again. Not leaving, but coming. Entering into the same room once more. This little hotel room, the chair in the corner. The curtains open showing him a world that existed beyond, but through his own eyes. The bed is filled with shifting images of ghosts.
His dead wife, his dead best friend. His dead former friend, and sometimes even Luna. Luna was alive, so it made no sense for her ghost to be here. His father and his mother sometimes would stand around, one to mock and one to soothe. A world that begged him to look at what had come and understand it. The more he tried though, the less it made sense. The less that any of it made sense. Today was no different. He would open the door, walk through and the world would be remade. A mirror image of the place he’d just left.
“Lexi, baby. Are you okay? You seem to be so lost.” Luna’s voice cut through the haze, bringing things into focus. The scent of the sea in the air, the slightest waft of coffee. Moments of freedom, of peace and escape. The few moments where he was free from his mental prison. Free from the voices and the ghosts. To be with her. To be in love, and human and free. One hand was wrapped around the warm mug, his other was linked with hers. Fingers interwoven, the warmth of her hand washing over him. Love warmed his soul.
“Sorry, stuck in my head. I don’t know what’s really happening. I feel…. Lost.” Alex said softly, furrowing his brow. The relief was hard to hide though. The wash of calm that took over his face. Being present in the moment. Being present for her. To look deeply into her eyes and know he was free for a moment. To be here with her. To be free of his mind before it stole him back. The world had continued to move on, but the more he tried to, the more he was stuck.
She was his freedom, and he didn’t even know how to really tell her. He just hoped the moments of freedom were enough to let her know. At the moments where he was truly here, she could see it. He had to hope she could see it. The world travelled with a man who was but a husk, but she had to know. Right?
“I love you, you know that, right?” Alex asked softly, his eyes locked with their interwoven fingers. The gentle squeeze. She tensed her own hand in response. A loving grasp, a loving response. He felt the fingers of her other hand brush his cheek.The softness of her fingers, the lightness of her touch. The soothing feeling. Her fingers gently curled to cup his face in her palm.
“I love you, Alex. That’s never going to change. I’m always going to be here for you, and I know, I know you’re in there for me. I know you love me.” Luna said gently, smiling. His eyes locking with hers, gazing deeply in the warmth of her. Deeply into her own soul. The radiance, the beauty. The warmth. It was all there for him. She was still there for him, even now. He suddenly was so aware of the chatter and the hum of the little cafe they were sitting at. The smell of cigarettes and coffee on her fingers. The light drift of sea salt from the nearby sea. It was quaint, it was beautiful. It was freeing. It was something he so desperately missed.
He needed to get out of that fucking room.
“You’re never going to be free Alex.” The Lost’s voice cut through his mind. A sharp stabbing pain behind his eye, a reminder of the world that was attempting to claw him back. Drag him back into his own mind. Drag him back into his own mental prison. He could feel the haze threatening to drag him back. The world threatening to shift back to the room. The fucking room. He tightened his grip on the mug. Leaned into her hand. She smiled, but he could see the pain in it. She had gotten really good at spotting when he was slipping. Slipping back into his mind. He just hoped the man he was when he was trapped, was good to her. That she was loved, and cared for still. That he held her hand, and showed her the beauty in what was left in the world.
Wiped her tears and kept her safe. He could only be there for so long, and he knew. He knew that when he was trapped, she wasn’t around. He could feel the rage and anger. The reminder of the man he once was. The reminder of the person he had spent so long trying to escape from. To be free of the uncontrollable anger and rage. To be his own safe and happy person. Calm and reasonable. Rational. He wanted to be okay more than anything, but the more he tried the harder it was. He could feel the heat in the room, he could feel the melting of its power. The Lost would mock and show him things that drove him mad. Closer to absolute decay and corruption.
“I’m so sorry, Luna.” Alex said softly, feeling the world creep back on him. Everything starting to shift. The concern creased her brow as she squeezed tighter. He could feel the world slipping from him, slipping back. His vision blurring and darkening, and then as he blinked…
“I’m always going to be here, Alex.” Luna said, and he was there again. Sitting in the chair in the corner of the room, staring at the bed that had never been laid in. A bed that had no ghosts this time. Nothing to distract him, nothing to torment him. No mother, or father, or friend, or enemy. No torture, just the empty room. With windows that showed him the world he’d be stolen away from. Her face staring into the windows of his soul. Trying to see the man that was trapped inside his head. Trapped in that room.
And so he screamed.
And screamed.
And begged.
And demanded that the world let him out.
“There’s a beauty in taking a moment for yourself. A moment to reflect, to realise who you are. There’s a beauty in understanding where you came from, where you are destined to go, and where you stand in the moment. I wanted my freedom, I wanted to be out. I wanted to be clear of mind. To be free. I wanted to unshackle myself from the doldrums of this reality, and in turn? I wanted to understand where I could go next. What I needed to be understood, to be perfect. To be my own person once more, and yet. The more I thought about it, the more I came to understand this singular truth. There is no calm in the future. There is no calm in being free. There is no freedom in the idea of being so. No, I had my failures, I had my shortcomings. I had my moments of inexplicable decadence. Yet it always comes back to this. To the beating of flesh on flesh. The agony, the bone splitting pain. The ache in your muscles knowing that another week has demanded another pound of flesh.”
“Yet here we stand once again, and the questions will be asked. The questions of why? Why are you here, Alexander? You demanded and screamed. Begged and cried, and wanted out. You wanted to be free of this, and yet. Only mere months removed, you’re here again. For what? Why? Why are you here again? Questions that I will answer. Questions that need to be answered for people to understand. To know why this is what it is. Where has The Conspiracy been? That’s a simple question, and the only one that I really think needs an answer.”
Alex is found sitting on a wooden chair, a dingy looking laneway. The flicker of a yellow fluorescent lightbulb, a doorway set in the brickwork of the laneway. Graffiti covered the walls, a rather artistic looking Raven painted onto the doorway. Alex to its left, Luna leaning against something covered in a tarp on the other side. Alexander Raven and Luna Pasilno.
“The Conspiracy is dead. That’s the long and the short of it. When we left, we left it all behind. The fear of the past, the fear of an invisible hand. This idea of the world being out to get us. It died the day we left. It died the day we were free. It died when we got what we wanted, because we were allowed to understand. Allowed to see that fate? Destiny? Karmic retribution? All of it is nothing but a lie. A lie told by us, to delude us. To control our own narratives. But in that, some level of understanding. Control is what is desired, by you, by us. By the world. Control over ourselves, yet we forsake so much to this idea of a greater force. Karmic retribution doesn’t exist. Destiny? Fate? Ideals cast by those who wish to throw aside their own confidences. Confidences in themselves that they don’t need to guide themselves. That the world ordains it for them. This isn’t true. It is a nice lie to tell ourselves so that we can feel better about our failings.”
“The Conspiracy is dead because there is no conspiracy. There is nothing to determine us, except us. The only greater force in this world is us. The only greater force is Alexander Raven and Luna Pasilno. We are the greater force. We are the Lost. We are the Broken. We are the Damned. Guiding sheep to understand. I spoke of it once, and now I will let the world see. The world will know. Guiding those who think themselves perfect, unblemished. Guiding those who think themselves grounded and found. Guiding them to a better tomorrow. A world where they don’t have to pretend to be put together. To be so scared of failure, that they don’t allow themselves to be true. To be broken. To be lost. In The Lost, we shall be found.”
Alex leans forward in his seat a little. An oversized white and flowing shirt, bare feet, and simple black jeans. His brow furrowed in deep thought, the dance of frustration etching its way across his eyes. Luna steps forward, stepping in front of the door, placing her hand upon his shoulder. A wash of relief spilled over him. Bending his arm to place his hand upon hers. Squeezing gently.
“Love. Vanity. That's what I wanted to give the world. Self-actualisation, self endorsement. I wanted people to see themselves fully, and in turn, love themselves. Yet I grew to disdain myself in doing so. Anger, fury. A woman scorned by the world and the people she attempted to show a better way. Self love has nothing to do with their actual selves. No, to truly understand themselves, they needed to be shown a different way. A way that was staring me in the face the whole time. The man I married showed me a way to be perfectly imperfect once. He gave me insight into how one can be broken, but still able to move on. To be happy, to be loved. To be perfect in my own mind, in a way that didn’t demand the failings of others, nor did it demand them to be guided by a greater force. I was shown, and now, I’ll help him. I’ll help Alex show everyone. To love, to appreciate, to respect. To deny the ideas of something other than one’s self. This isn’t about redeeming our failures. No, this is about ensuring that it was only our faults that caused it. This is about ensuring that we get to find our own peace.”
“A year ago, we stood across from each other in this very tournament. At ends with ourselves, and having to make a choice. Who would succeed, and who would fail? The irony is that the ending meant nothing. I won, Sean won. Alex lost, and the other one too. Months later, it amounted to nothing. I didn’t beat Kayla, Sean didn’t beat Finn. A year on, and things never really changed. We just watched, and assumed things beyond our control. That our failings were a result of something beyond us. We were wrong. We know we were wrong. We are here to right those wrongs. I don’t need to be the winner, I just need to be there. To help my husband achieve what he always desired. To be the one to win this tournament. To be the one to go on to face for the World Championship, and this time? The world will be broken, and nobody gets to question why.”
Alex smiled, squeezing her hand as he slowly stands, turning to look into Luna’s eyes. Pulling her into his arms, into his embrace. The two of them standing there beneath the yellow light, in front of the door that really shouldn’t exist where it does. Yet it stands there despite it.
“And so it starts with you, Beauty. A certain irony in that. A creature so obsessed with oneself, self indulgent. Overstepping themselves. For better or worse, I can respect the desire to be the man to step into the ring. I can respect making the decision to throw it all to the wind. To attempt to be the best of the best right out of the gate. Part of me respects it. Part of me admires it. Part of me sees something in reflection of what I once stood with. Hawkes was a foe, and then an ally. Ego with ego, with ego. A merry band of failures who at the end of the day all had their comeuppance. I took my time away, Kevin continued to demand to be seen, and Hawkes… He did what he always has. Stomped and carried on and then disappeared. I don’t blame him. It's the way of egos. We can only do so much.”
“Yet it is unfortunate for you, Beauty. People may not like me. People may not consider me worth thinking about, but the truth? They’ll all tell you how dangerous this is. How problematic this situation is going to be for you. The truth? You pulled the absolute worst match you could have to start this tournament. Not only that, but you delayed it a week. You ruined my schedule, and for that. I have a problem with you. I have a problem with what you’re doing, I have a problem with your attitude. I have a problem because you have made me a problem. I do not like having problems in my life. Problems are issues that must be solved, and solving them… I’m pretty good at that. I’m pretty good at solving problems like you. Arrogance, ego and indulgence. Self-absorbed and obsessed. A person who sees perfection, not because they understand their shortcomings. Not because you see the fractures in your psyche, but because you need to be seen. To be looked and fawned upon. To be adored, to be loved. To be obsessed over. Beauty? That's in the eye of the beholder, and in this situation, I am the eye. I am the gazer upon truth. I am the arbiter of reality. I don’t see beauty in you.”
Alex and Luna look into each other’s eyes as they step apart slowly, standing either side of the door. Both hands come to rest on the lever handle, as they slowly push it down. A burst of lighting exploding out of the opening gap, quickly engulfing them in the blinding light.
“There is only one beauty in this world, and that is me. For there is a God, and she is me. Remember that, when you’re staring across the ring and are forced to reckon with reality. The reality that Alexander is the King to be. The one who will execute and tear down any who would stand in his way. Understand that there is only one bit of peace, and that exists in my presence. Without that, you’d be torn to ribbons. Ripped to shreds, and thrown to the birds as nothing more than a passing meal. With my presence, Beauty. You’re saved from having your one thing stolen from you. From having your life shattered before it can actually get it started. Your professional debut? You’ll begin to see the difference between the mewling brats of the Go Gym, and true professionals. World Champions. Ring Generals. You’ll be made to see the light.”
The lapping of the water at his feet was a cold reminder of what he was missing. He watched as Luna bobbed about in the water, getting an early morning swim in. The feeling of sand between his toes was aggravating, but it was pleasant. Sometimes he got to spend days in control. Able to experience the world, to be in control of what he was doing. To spend his moments with her, free from the room in his mind. Free from the torture.
Truthfully, he was hoping that this journey would be his true freedom. To give him an option once more. To give him the right to return to the world. By redeeming his failures, maybe, just maybe, he’d open the door for the final time. To be free of his own demons. To be free of this betrayal of his mind. To be free of The Lost.
It was hope for the sake of hope, but it was all he could do. Hope. Hope to be here in the moment, and to be here for her. To win the Blast from the Past on his own merits. To win the World Championship and prove that he was always deserving. The uncrowned king made real. To be on top for the first time in over a decade. He’d hoped it would be Finn Whelan. There was no point in denying it. He was adamantly disappointed that it was Alex Jones that likely stood at the end for him. Carter would be another pivot in the plans, but…
None of them were Finn Whelan. That was who he wanted, and it was stolen from him before it ever really had a chance to become real. It was a story that always repeated. Denied his opportunities for the World Championship over and over, in lieu of false pretense. A fear of giving away the marquee resulting in a complete loss of it. That was his justification anyway. He could do little but try to convince himself of these things. It was part of the process. Part of the growth.
He stretched his legs out, letting the lapping water flow up further, washing the sand from his toes, washing it back into the ocean. He gazed out towards the rising sun, over the beauty of one of the many Norwegian beaches. An excuse to travel was a benefit of the tour, but he wished he was present for more of it. He hoped to be present for more of it to come. To have more of these moments. To be truly alive for another moment. He closed his eyes and laid back, laying himself out on the sand. Tempting the ocean to simply sweep him up and away. Yet he didn’t move at all. He just lay there.
He didn’t really know how long had passed, eventually he felt the wetness of flesh on his. Luna laying down on his chest, her wet hair dripping onto him. He smiled, inhaling deeply. Her smell mixed with that of the sea. The wetness of the world bringing him to the moment. He opened his eyes slowly and his heart wrenched. He wasn’t on the beach, and she wasn’t on him. He was laying on the bed in that room. Staring at the ceiling as it dripped. The roof is leaking above him. Something different, but still the same prison. Maybe it was a sign of things to come. A change meant things were moving. Altering. Maybe the leak meant the world would collapse down and he’d be free of it.
He just wanted to be out there, with her. With everyone. To be alive and in the moment. To be free. He had to believe that getting to the end. Winning the Blast from the Past. Winning the World Championship. Standing at the apex of everything he’d worked toward had to fix this. Had to free him. Had to let him be himself again.
“Don’t deceive yourself. You’re stuck here forever. I’ve told you, Alexander. You’ll never be free of me. I am you, you are me. I am the fear, the doubt, the agony. I am you, because you are Lost. Together we will be found, but not alone. Never without our home. Never without this room. No matter how many doors you open, no matter how much the sky opens. You will never be free of me.” The Lost’s voice echoes through his mind.
Alex sighed, closing his eyes again. Feeling the tears welling in the corners of his eyes. Threatening to cascade down. He just wanted to be okay. To escape this all.
“Please…”
“I wonder, Beauty. Do you think you have it in you? Do you have the ability to do what needs to be done? Can you free yourself of the idea of your vanity and do what is required? It's one thing to be gifted. It's one thing to be a technical savant. It is completely different to brawl. To fight, to bite and claw. It is a completely different thing to step under the bright lights and stare down someone you know exactly how good they can be. There is all the tape study in the world available to you. A plethora of information, and yet. There is nothing that can truly prepare you for the first time you get hit by someone who truly wants to disfigure you. Who wants to break everything about you.
There is nothing that can prepare you to stand across from me, because there is no preparation for me. I’m sickened by the perpetual filth that oozes from these so-called ‘gyms’. This place is filled with miscreants and rats who tie their entire identity to this idea of a place being their family. A womb that birthed them as individuals who matter because of themselves. I took a disdain to Wolfslair, and in turn became one of the best Internet Champions Sin City had ever seen. I take a disdain to the Go Gym, and I will happily dismantle and tear down each and every one of you if that is what is needed. Because I want to show people how to stand for themselves. To owe no allegiance but that to what I have given them. A freedom. A change. The ability to be free of the decay that comes with being shackled to an ideology. To be told you are only good enough when you ‘graduate’.”
“There is no graduation in life. There is no graduation to understanding. Graduation is a pat on the back for passing the theory. Practicality however? That is a different beast altogether. See, think of this as your true first lesson. You drew the worst and you will experience the worst. You will be able to see the difference between professional and amateur. Between a hobbyist and a master. The difference between you and me, Beauty. That is what you will experience. That is what you will do. That is all you can look to do.”
A dark room, an empty void. A spotlight illuminates Alexander Raven, kneeling in front of Luna. Facing away from her. His head down, his hands hidden behind his back. One of her hands gently resting on his head, gently playing with his hair.
“You are a lesson. You are an example. You are to be a martyr for the ideals that I am here to spread. I am the Broken Messiah, I am the False Prophet. I spread lies, deceit and betrayal because that is all that worms are capable of. Lying, deceiving and betraying. That is all you will get, that is all you deserve. You will lay prone and you will accept the teachings I give. You will understand the gospel as I speak it. For there is no greater power, there is no divine force. The only beauty is that which I declare to exist, and you. You do not exist in my purview. You do not get to exist in the way of my journey. This is not your story, Beauty. This is not anyone else’s story, but mine.
This is the story of The Lost Raven, Alexander. This is the story that must have the ending I deem for it, for that is the only way I will ever be free. Truly free. To have the choice and the option. The option to do whatever I need, whatever I want. The option to exist without people like you. Miscreants and rats who need to be purged. Purged for the sake of the lesson I need to give to the world. If you can break, you will be broken, and in that? You will find your way to true peace. You will find your way back. You will find your way to standing on your own two feet, but to do so?”
“I will have to break you entirely.”
Alex slowly raises his head, staring directly in front of him. His eyes distant, his face surprisingly serene. Luna digs her fingers into his hair and takes hold, slowly pulling him up onto his feet. Once fully standing, she takes her hand away, the click of heels echoing as she walks away. Alex shakes his head and stretches his arms out wide, a subtle smile crossing his lips.
“Let me embrace you, and show you the way. Let me show you true love, Beauty. All you have to do, is let me. All you have to do, is exactly what I know you will do.”
“Let me break you.”
“For he who is lost, shall be found. For he who is lost, will be brought back home. For he who is lost, will be my sheep, and I shall shepherd you home. You simply need to let yourself break.”
Alex allows the smile to slip from his face, as he hands drop. Turning on his heel and walking away. Stepping out of the spotlight, and disappearing into the dark beyond. The click of a switch, and then the light is gone. All that remains is darkness.
And then…
