09-04-2020, 09:56 AM
09-12-2020, 10:19 PM
Send in the Clown
Chapter 2: Back to Your Regularly Scheduled Program
Oh well well…
Welcome back! I guess you could call this the longest intermission in the history of SCW material, at least in terms of story keeping the audience waiting. I mean, one could argue that Regan Street holds that glorious prize with her needing eight years to become a Supreme champion… But I digress.
I finally managed to find a chair that was comfy sit my ass down on and continue the story I started back in… was it June? I feel like it was June. Or maybe the last days days of May. Something like that…
So where was I? Oh that's right! A cemetery very deep beneath the city of Toronto, names you've all grown to recognize like Spider and Rusty and Madison and Faith and Nomas… dear Nomas. I suppose I left you with more questions than answers but isn’t that not how good entertaining stories begin? Is that not how I draw you back in? Is that not how I get your attention? is that not how I can entertain you?
So no. You won't see an answer to that question today, perhaps you never will. Instead I will continue telling the story as it has unfolded for me and perhaps, at some point, I will give you the answers to the questions you ask - to the questions burning in your mind - burning in your soul. But as the chapter is called ‘back to your regularly scheduled program’, I’ll start off saying that it took some time for me to collect myself after Rise to Greatness. To say that I wasn't disappointed would have been a bold-faced lie. I mean, it's easy to have all the momentum in the world when you're handed the keys to the kingdom like David Helms. It's easy to not care as you traipse about the SCW world like Jake Starr and Ace Marshall.
But when you do care and when things are not giftwrapped and handed to you on a silver platter? Well, things get a little bit trickier. Perhaps that was the hardest thing for me to accept. Perhaps on some level, I had hoped that if I could not be replaced by Aaron Blackbourne, then perhaps SCW would just welcome me back with open arms - the entertainer there to entertain the masses like before!! ‘NECRO, ba-bay!’. *sigh*
But things can’t be that easy. The world saw that I was not in ‘OG-Shilo’ form. They saw that my moves were different, my style was not the same, and my jokes were not of 2015 level, but you have to understand that in a world that continuously evolves, I could not just come back like David Helms had with that stagnant ‘last shadow of hope’. And I refused to be like Xander and Matt Hodges, all crying for the ‘2000s again!’. I could not just come back like Ace Marshall with the partying and ‘oh! Here's some X-rated goodies for you’. I could not let what I had built in a career worthy of the Hall of Fame to be tainted in such a way.
I knew that if I wanted to come back, I needed to be different. I needed to be something else. My style had to be different. The entertainment had to be different. But after everything, all the months I put in, even after Rise to Greatness, very few people understood that.
So there I sat a couple of weeks ago - after rise greatness was done and SCW was on its pay-per-view break, which was longer because of the season ending. I was sitting on the couch inside my house in the city of Guelph…
I know you're expecting some kind of elaborate build when I say ‘house’. Maybe the fanciest leather recliners? Maybe the house being three or four storeys tall?
Well, I’m sorry to disappoint, but things had changed after everything in Toronto that happened with the Sovereign, with Marina becoming the Empress and with her being driven out to the Kings of Shadows and with me fighting to keep everything in check. After I had bowed and bid farewell to SCW after the last Shot of Adrenaline tournament, I turned away from it all and I offered Marina the same chance. A chance to leave it all behind. I asked her to come with me. I asked her to help me say goodbye to the Kings of Shadows. To the world of the Sovereign and the Empress. To let them go and be whatever they wanted to be and let us have what we had wanted for so many years… \
To be a normal family. With the kids and the picket fence and whatever Hallmark guises that up as. To my absolute surprise, she said yes.
We bid farewell to the Kings of Shadows and she handed the reins of the Sovereign's power to the next in line - someone she trusted – and we moved to a lavish home in Guelph and things seemed to be on the right track for that ‘simple, normal life’ we wanted.
But the one thing the world doesn't tell you when you demote yourself to such a life are the constant struggles that can come your way. A million-dollar career, one of athletic performance, doesn't quite come with much insurance or severance pay or a farewell package. Least not with all of SCW. Over the next three years, as that resource began to run out, I tried to find other work… I suppose it would amuse you to know that the ‘Necro-Merchant’, the most entertaining man in SCW, dabbed his hand in construction and general labour. I even took on a job at Wendy's and Tim Horton's for a few months, trying to find a niche – and let me say from that that there’s something to be said about the stupidity of the average individual when they can read a sign that's on the door and still not follow it. There's also something to be said about the idiocy of the general mass of people who questioned why a door is locked after closing hours and they have to ask if you're still open, knocking on the glass like a child with his finger on the aquarium…
Anyway, as more and more money vanished from my resources, Marina and I had to sell the first house we stayed at in Guelph and settle for the one we live in now. So, when I say that I sat down on the couch, imagine a dark blue cushioned little number on the ‘top floor’ space – that being the ground floor and the other floor being the basement – in a small house on the top of a hill in a small little subdivision in the city of Guelph, Ontario.
That is where you would find me- the supposed ‘greatest showman in all SCW’. It was that kind of thinking that would lead me into bouts of depression - reminders that had been haunting me. Reminders of what I once was, in comparison to where and what I was now. It was part of the reason why I had decided to return to SCW in the first place. See, I knew I could do anything for a job in regards to minimum wage. But I had a son, I had a wife – a family – and I was tired not being able to provide for them. I was tired of being less than what I once was.
And I was tired of that one thing that burned away at me – that I did not have that career defining ending. What I had done three years ago? Taking a small bow and getting a cheap shot in at Ace Marshall, getting the last laugh, as it were, on some person who doesn't care whether he's working or not? I realized that that wasn’t enough for me and I found myself wanting that ending - wanting that wonderful beautiful ending to my career.
And, to be honest, I thought Blackbourne would give that to me. I thought I could end it at the last pay-per-view; the one that had been defined as mine! The one that I had done the impossible - three years main eventing without even using a trios contract! If I could end it there, at RTG, then maybe I could truly move on…
But it wasn't the ending I thought it would be. I didn't feel that sense of ending… but I'm using up all my promo material, aren't I? And we're not there yet, are we? That's further down. So, moving forward, though I was sitting on the couches comfy cushions, everything ached from my match a few weeks ago with Aaron. There were bruises in certain places that were a variety of colours and some of my muscles still had a dull ache every now and then. Meanwhile, my mind was just toiling away, going over the match - every detail of it - wondering where ‘did I go wrong’? The question that had been haunting me for some time since I walked out of that arena back in Minneapolis and my mental tangent would have continued if not for hearing a car driving up the driveway. My eyes flew to the clock hanging on the floor, the hour telling me exactly who it was.
Now, you have to understand something about me at this point in my life. No matter what mood I'm in, whether it's elated or depressed or angry or frustrated, more often than not, there's a certain joy that I feel when I realize that my family is returning home. I guess you could think of me as like a dog in that regard. I can look out the window and see the old red Ford Tempo car - I told you my resources were limited - rolling into the driveway or how I could hear the jiggling of the door handle as it was being unlocked. It means I had three seconds to push myself up onto my feet, dust myself off, and adopt my fatherly persona and the doting husband attitude that they so dearly deserved.
I almost didn't make it this time. I was a little slow at getting to my feet. A little slower to clear my mind of SCW and regrets, and a little bit slower putting on a genuine smile. But, I made it - I was able to do it just as the door flew open as my young boy bounded up the stairs, rushing into the small family room, searching for me.
“Daddy! Daddy!” his little voice just filling my ears with excitement. “Look!” he exclaimed as I saw his little running shoes, having been kicked off him in the blue mud room area by the door. He now stood in his little white socked feet. My eight-year old in blue jean pants and a red and blue striped shirt. He still had his knapsack on, the wide black straps still hanging around his shoulders because he was too excited to thrust the piece of paper into my hands. It took me a moment to understand what he was showing me because the thing was upside down and facing the wrong way. So imagine, how surprised I was at seeing shapes and lines that didn't look like English or any language. Still, I do have some sample of intelligence - or madness depending on who you ask - and I flipped it right side up. Before my eyes, there were a series of numbers lined up with other numbers and symbols that seem to link in a order or some kind of command. Yes I'm being colourful with my language.
Short explanation? It was a test my son was handing me. A mathematics test. Very quickly, my eyes scanned the page and I saw numbers like 28 * 4 or 13 * 3 or 6 * 8 on a line and then it would change to 14 + 6 and 54 + 16 and others on another line and so on and so on, a challenging mathematics skill sheet for a grade three, eight-year old, but I would be lying if I didn't see all the little red checks that covered the pages.
“Well what is this?” I playfully said aloud, looking at my son who stood there with his hands behind his back, or rather over his backpack as best he could. It was almost like seeing a little turtle trying to clasp its flippers behind its shell. It was indeed adorable.
“Mrs. Shier gave us this test today.” Memphis, my son, exclaimed as my eyes scanned up to top of the first page where I could see, in childish printing, he had printed his name: Memphis Valiant, which also had his score: 100%
“Well, my boy.” I remarked to him. “Does this 100% score mean what I think it means?”
“I got perfect!” he screamed with joy.
“Yes, you did!” I replied, reaching out to ruffle his shaggy tough of dark hair, the shade he got from his mother - but he got my eyes! “I'm very proud of you! Do you now see why your mother and I had you do your homework every night?”
“Yeah.” he drawled out of a little. I can't say I blame him. I did kind of turn his achievement into a little ‘ha ha! I told you so’ moment, but he would remember this lesson and I was proud of him! I truly was!
It had not been easy for him to transition into school when he had come of age. Though I had been semi-retired at the time, the world had not yet quite forgotten the name Shilo Valiant. It wasn't exactly a common last name, plus Marina and I had been there on his first day of school to drop him off and to meet some of the teachers. So, word spread quickly of who he was. I knew it would happen. It was inevitable, but I still felt bad that I couldn’t help him through this. I couldn’t ask the entire school and student body to treat him normally. I couldn't ask everyone to forget that he was the son of ‘Shilo Valiant - the wrestler’. All I could do was hope that, in time, they would move on from that and start getting used to him.
Marina was more optimistic on the situation than I was. She had assured me that was exactly what would happen in time and, of course, as usual, she was right. It took a few months, but, for the most part, the kids treated Memphis with respect and kindness. They got used to him and he started making friends with some of his classmates. That wasn’t to say he didn't have some problems but he was able to make friends, have favorite teachers, normal kids’ stuff as the years went on and like any young boy growing up, there were of course challenges - getting him to do his homework and chores, go to bed, that sort of thing.
Sidebar for a moment. I have to admit that I never saw myself as a father. I kind of skipped that whole ‘age of teaching and learning from scratch’ with Gwynplaine myself. I never saw myself as the ideal person to raise a child from zero to adulthood. I mean, look who raised me. Still, if you were to ask me if there was a better job in the world than being in SCW - being a wrestler for the greatest federation in professional wrestling - I think that would be it: being a family man.
I'm sorry I rambled off there - I had to shake my head to clear all those thoughts because my boy was looking at me expectantly with those big blue eyes of his.
“Dad…” his voice trailed off and I knew what he wanted. We had a deal, he and I. We always did and he had lived up to his part of it. He was waiting for his reward. You may think it's a little bit appropriate to bribe a child but my personal belief is that incentive can go a long way. I mean, have you heard a promo from Giovanni Aries? You know! “Ahhh! The Lizard Kingdom dangles gold! The blinded seek its reward! Errrr!” SCW! They even do it! They dangle a main event for RTG every year and have 30-40 wrestlers clamoring to the ring, trying to throw each other out of it! Bottom line? Incentive works!
In fact it was that kind of thing between my son and I where I got the idea of the Big Top match - the one that I was planning to unleash on Aaron Blackbourne once SCW resumed its season. Incentive - that's what he needed. Just like my son. Speaking of which:
He still looked at me expectantly, still waiting. With a sigh, I turned and walked towards the kitchen, opened up the freezer and pulled out his favorite dessert: creamsicle ice cream bar. Carefully, I unwrapped it and handed it to him. “We’ll get you a toy this weekend.” I promised as I watched him take the confection and hungrily scarf it down.
“Hey! Take it easy!” I told him. “You’ll get a stomach ache or get sick if you eat it like that.” Of course, he didn't listen to me. Children and sweets - what can you do? But that was part of the deal - if he got 80 to 90%, he would get the dessert. If you got 90 to 100%, Marina and I would allow him to pick out a toy at his favorite toy shop, Ginkos’, a small, privately-owned, family business, with ordered and home-made toys, from woodcarvings to little puppets. Even Marina and myself liked to wonder in that little store and the owner, an old woman named Agatha, she was wonderful to us and our son. The place was his favorite place to go even just to window shop.
With a bright smile, he clapped his hands and jumped up and down on the spot happily before hugging my leg - he barely reached my hip, you know.
“Thank you, dad!” he said, his excited little voice ringing in my ears.
“No no, thank you, my boy.” I told him. “A deal is a deal and I'm very proud of you! Now, why don't you go and put your stuff away and I will call you when dinner is ready.”
“Can we have spaghetti?” he asked, his eyes bright.
I pretended to think about it for a moment, tilting my head and looking to the ceiling. “Well, I mean 100%. that is something else… I suppose so.”
With a squeal and a “BEST DAY EVER!” yell, he ran downstairs to his room to stay out of the way, probably to play more of those video games he loved so much. I had bought him a retro-cade system that played Super Nintendo, Nintendo, and Sega Genesis games – hey, I might have had a thing for being retro but I was going to make sure that he understood vintage, too!
Quietly, I made my way further into the kitchen, hearing my son travel down the steps and into his room. The room silent for a moment, I began pulling the pots and items needed for dinner out of different cupboards and drawers to get it prepared just as the door opened once more. Hearing it close, I then heard steps far more graceful than my son’s - not clunking running shoes - but soft heels that were gently taken off to be replaced by bare feet walking up the stairs and into the kitchen. A few moments later, a pair of slender arms wrapped around me from behind and a head came to rest against the back of my shoulder. I heard a deep breath and an exhale as I felt the weight and soft form of a young woman against my back.
“Did you have a good day?” she asked.
“Shouldn't I be asking you that?” I replied with a smile. “I mean, I'm the stay at home dad right now. You're the one that's working.”
“Oh…don’t remind me.” she groaned good-naturedly as she stepped away. Turning my head, I saw her wrestle off the top of her pantsuit revealing the white dress shirt underneath. She undid the first few buttons at the top revealing the soft features of her skin. The next to follow were the cuff buttons along the sleeves, which she rolled up, and, lastly, she pulled the pin out of her hair to allow it to flow out like a waterfall.
Reaching up with a hand, she scratched the back of her scalp, causing the newly freed hair to flutter and wave a little as she did before she swiped a few strands behind her ear. “And yet…” she teased, “you make more money than I do in a year.” she retorted
“Yeah…” I replied with a smug smile as I turned to lean against the countertop. “Entertainment business - it's kind of unfair.” I replied. “But hey! You get great dental!” I added.
“Oh!” she smiled at me. “And when did you ever have a problem with your teeth?” she strutted her way towards me, returning to her place in front of me and wrapping her arms around me once more.
“Well none that I've had…” I replied but quickly added, “but you're the one that has to look at them.” flashing her a goofy grin. In response to that, she stood up on her tip toes to bring her lips to mine for a soft and gentle kiss, allowing me time to reach around and hold her close…
Hey! I never said there wasn't going to be any ‘lovey-dovey’ moments in this story! I'm married to a beautiful wonderful woman. A woman who understands, mostly, the world I come from. Remember, this woman was once the Black Swan of SCW! United States champion, women’s champion, the person that, before anybody else could do it, beat Syren at the height of her abilities before I did at RTG X!
She knew the world I had rejoined, so when she felt me wince a little as she accidentally brushed her arm into my sore ribs, she quickly readjusted herself, bringing her hands and arms up to her chest to lean against me so I could hold her fully. “Sorry.” she whispered resting her head over my chest. I didn't reply to her apology. I didn’t need to.
“I checked our accounts this morning after you left.” I replied all the money is there. I felt her nod her head as she heard me.
“Did you-“ she started but I cut her off.
“I stored it all in our savings account, don't worry.”
Let me explain something at this point. When I was making millions of dollars at the height of my game as the Necro-merchant, the hobgoblin, the Bloodstained Joker or whatever name you want to use for me in SCW, I wasn't spending money frivolously and I wasn't using my paycheck for absurd things. I'm not like many of these people in SCW before and after. The Monarchy, The Beauty Factory, people that ‘need’ to have the best cars and clothes and - how does one afford a damn limousine bus and chauffeur to drive you everywhere?! That's a wild expense, isn't it? I even heard she has a private jet! Where did that come from anyway?!
The thing is that, for most of my career, my money was going, first of all, to supporting the family with what we needed. Anything extra was going to the Kings of Shadows. And when Marina and I left that and the Sovereign power behind, we didn't take any of those things with us. We restarted from scratch. Maybe that was foolish. Maybe we should have considered some kind of nest-egg too keep us with something for awhile longer, but the desire for a clean slate, for a life free of all the drama and pain… it was too much… too strong to deny. It's the reason why I am telling you a story like this because I can't give you when I used to. I can’t talk about a life filled with dangers and threats and monsters and demons and things from the underground, stories of an underground city, and a hidden mafia clan in the realms of Toronto, because I have no more stories left of that kind to tell you here or in SCW.
That was the real reason why I had first considered stepping away from it three years ago. Even now, I can't promise a story like before. I can't promise you thrills and chills like I did in the past with the Kings of Shadows and the Links and the Webs and Ryper and whatever. All I can do is tell you what's happened as it happens.
Anyway, once I had returned SCW in the God of Wrestling tournament and then again asked as a means to challenge and help Aaron Blackbourne, the checks started coming in again. They weren’t as big as before, which didn’t surprise me. I wasn't a full time wrestler anymore. These were more appearance by appearance payments. Thus, the checks didn't have those six zeros that they used to. They didn't have the seven digits, but I still had a good number and it was enough for Marina to realize and quickly convince me that this money needed to be not spent on the Kings of Shadows that was long gone or the remains of her family in Toronto, but rather saved up. And on that, there’s was something to be said about being a couple applying for a new savings account option after close to over a decade of marriage.
I know it’s hard to believe that it's been 11 years since Marina and I made our debuts in SCW and over a decade since we completed our union of Solgemia. Once we had stepped away from SCW, we also quietly filled out a marriage certificate at the city hall in Guelph. If we were going to live as a normal family, we were going to be recognized by certain terms of society. Technically speaking, Marina and I have only been married for about two or three years, but we've been soulmates for much longer.
Anyway, I felt Marina step away from our embrace, allowing me to resume my husbandly duties of making dinner. “Memphis wants spaghetti today.” I told her. “And I think he deserves a few extra meatballs.” That wasn't me being saucy. Meatballs were his favorite part of the dish. He would always eat them first - I don't know why.
Knowingly, and understandingly, Marina nodded her head. “Did you see his test?” she asked with a proud smile.
“I did.” I smiled back as I got to work filling the pot with water and pulling out the dry spaghetti noodles. “And we had to take him to Ginko's this weekend.” I reminded her.
“He's had his eye on a particular puppet.” she warned me. “So get ready for that.”
I simply nodded my head, but as I turned with the pot, now filled with water. I felt it again and almost stumbled towards the oven element… The gripping in my left knee - the stiffness, the tearing sensation causing me to almost lose my balance. Quickly, purely on instinct, my hands flew out to put the pot on the element and my hand reached out to grab the counter as I hissed in pain!
I heard rather than saw Marina take a few steps toward me and I felt her hands on my shoulder. “I'm okay.” I told her before pulling myself up and rubbing my knee slowly she backed away, back to the kitchen table where she was setting up the silverware.
She knew what it was - don't worry it's not anything new. Remember when my old partner Masquerade swung a wrench against my knee several years ago? Never quite healed from that. I had a few lingering injuries like that in my years with SCW and it worried her because she wasn't sure how many more of those I had left. Fortunately, my part time schedule eased her mind a bit. Of course, every time I had one of these episodes, she would inevitably bring it back towards work which continued as I heard her say:
“Are you going to keep doing this?”
What did I tell you? Right on time.
“Yeah.” I replied honestly. “I think, at least for another month till the next pay-per-view.”
“Apocalypse?” she asked, somewhat confused. “Why would you choose that? I thought you would want to end things at Rise to Greatness.”
“That was the plan.” I answered honestly. “But… I mean… did you watch it?”
She opened her mouth a little as she looked at me before slowly nodding her head knowingly. “Yes.” she replied. “Are you sure you need to keep doing this?” she asked again. “I know I'm not making good money, but it's enough to keep us going.”
“I know it is.” I replied with a sigh turning again to lean on the counter to rub my knee with my left hand. “And trust me, this isn't some machismo nonsense of being the ‘the man of the house’ supporting the family. It’s just that I can't just leave it at that.” I explained. “I can’t let that can't be the end of it for me.” I admitted.
Here’s a little truth for all of you – a sort of realization I made years ago. I should have left after I lost the world title in that elimination chamber to Blitzkrieg. This was a confession that I had taken some time to come to terms with - taking me several months after my initial retirement to realize. Let me paint you a picture:
You go off and shock the world by dropping the world title, then come back, win the God of Wrestling tournament, then win the Taking Hold of the Flame royale from start to finish - one of only two or three people that's ever been able to do that – and, finally, to cap it all that off, being the only person to headline Rise to Greatness for a third time in a row, this time as the royale winner and you give a main-event which you then win and said match goes down as the greatest match in SCW history! Voted upon by the world of SCW for the first 10 years! You then, to end it all, lose that championship in an elimination chamber in a blaze of glory! Fighting to the last stand!
That… That was when I should have walked away. That was when I should have taken my bow and left SCW… But I didn't and it was ego. It was my ego telling me that I could still do more. I could still keep going. That I still had a place here even when I was taking paintballs to the genitals… I knew that I was being replaced with new talent like Kelcey Wallace. But my ego had me. I felt SCW couldn't exist on some level without me, and it lead to months of just stumbling by. I can't even remember very much from that point onward for the next two years of my wrestling career. Losses. Some jokes. It's sad really. The problem was I had missed my opportunity to walk out on the perfect note. The perfect opportunity. And the result, aside from wanting to find the next best entertainer, for SCW I still haven't gotten that moment back again.
“But you think you're going to find that at Apocalypse?” Marina asked, breaking my train of thought and crossing her arms and leaning her backside against the table. Slowly my head turned as I spoke, revealing to her the plan that had grown in my brain since the end of Rise to Greatness – since I had looked up and seen… them.
“I'm gonna challenge Aaron again. This time to an Under the Big Top Match-“
“No!” came the voice, sharp and crisp. “Not a chance!” she declared.
I have to admit that I was surprised by the sharpness in her tone, not to mention the commanding tone in her presence at that moment. Marina had always been supportive In my endeavours with SCW, as long as I didn't do anything stupid or anything that could endanger my health any further, she was fine with it. But the moment I had uttered those words ‘Under the Big Top Match’, her eyes had widened and she had quickly spat out her reply. Her tight stance had changed and her arms were crossed over her chest and her eyes were glaring into me.
It stunned me. “What?” I asked. “What's wrong with that match? It's perfect!” I added. “Maybe SCW believes that I've gotten rusty and maybe I don't have the same panache that I did before but this is the perfect way to end it. If this is the end, why not have it be the match I created? The match that had something to it? End on a high note! No tricks, no illusions, no light shows, no dummies, and no masks! Pure wrestling talent in the ring.
“Right.” Marina replied sharply. “And a match that almost got you killed last time.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, confused.
“You don't remember your last match in there, do you?” she asked me. It took me a moment to ponder. I'd only been in two such matches before that were under the big top, but before I could come to terms with what she was implying, she continued.
“You against Masquerade. He beat you for the world title.”
“Yeah, right.” I replied remembering. “So?”
“Shilo… For the entire buildup… that was how you injured your knee!” Marina explained, pointing to the joint that, just a moment ago, had acted up against me. “And when the time came for you to get in that ring with him, he kept going after you and that knee! Even with the House of Ruin trying to help you, he kept attacking you, kept going after that knee so afterwards, you could barely walk! It took you weeks to get back to that!”
“Okay, but Aaron Blackbourne is not Masquerade!” I reminded her.
“Isn’t he?” she asked, countering me. “Maybe you're too blind to see it. Maybe because you're so desperate to see yourself in him that you don't realize that he's more Masquerade than he is you! You care about the entertaining. Masquerader cared only about being better than you. You cared about being a showman! Masquerade just cared about being superior to you. Now, has Blackborne done anything in all the months you've been hounding him that was entertaining? Even remotely?”
I wanted to deny it. I wanted to throw it back in her face and even defend Aaron if I had to. Hearing the water boiling on the element, I turned my back to her, distracting myself for a moment by breaking up the noodles into smaller pieces and putting them in the water and stirring it with a wooden spoon. My brain, meanwhile, was working a mile a minute. It brought up memories, trying to find something within the past few months where Aaron was any way like me. Anyway that was entertaining. Anyway that was going above and beyond! But he hadn't. He hadn't popped out of a box or swung from ladders or haunted me with shows or masks or anything. He had simply waited until he could get his hands on me and brought the fight to get rid of me.
“I know how much you pushed him. It just made him want to hurt you more and more.” Marina sighed. “And it was so hard for me to watch.”
I could not deny that. On some level, Aaron wanted to simply drive me out of SCW. He had said as much several times in his promos. Was it as simple as that?
“I'm not saying that he is Masquerade.” Marina corrected herself. “I'm saying that if you do this, he will hurt you to beat you and in a place like that, I'm scared.” she breathed. “I understand why you went back. I understand why you had to, but maybe… maybe there's a reason why it didn't work out at Rise. Maybe there's a reason why you couldn't get that perfect ending you wanted. Maybe it's not possible.” she whispered. Maybe, at the end of the day, you have to just say, ‘that's it’”.
I was quiet for a moment, her version of things weighing heavily on my shoulders. I was reminded of something I once said years ago. That there were only two ways I could go: the route of the bitter veteran wrestler who couldn't let go of his glory like see CHBK, who clung to SCW until his bones turned to dust, or the route of someone like Syren, who kept wrestling even though the talent had long since caught up with her and, in some respects, I think, passed her by. I feared that back in 2013 and here I was, seven years later, fearing the same thing.
I said nothing for several minutes, stirring the noodles and watching them ride around within the metal pot of water. I heard Marina open a metal can of tomato sauce, pouring it into a smaller little pot and warming it up to add to the spaghetti. She then got to work on getting the meatballs ready. “Remember when we left The Kings of Shadows and the Empire behind?” she asked, her brown eyes fixated on the red sauce as she stirred it a little. “We didn't need some fancy farewell party. We didn't need fireworks. We didn't need some glorious battle. We just had to turn our backs and walk away.”
“You know it wasn't as easy as that.” I whispered under my breath and out of the corner of my eye, I saw her reach up and wipe a stray tear from each eye as she whispered, though her voice broke a little with sadness, “But we did just walk away… Why can't you do that again with this?” she asked.
“Because…” I answered honestly. “I tried that before. I tried leaving it behind and it's been haunting me every day for years that I missed that final curtain call. Missed my chance to truly say goodbye and maybe it was leaving the Kings of Shadows behind back then that made me realize this because I couldn't say goodbye to them.”
We remained silent for several minutes, Marina finally breaking it with a shaky breath. “So you're going to do it?” she asked. “You're going to challenge him?” I knew she already knew my answer, but I gave it anyway.
“Yes.” I sighed. “Because I believe he's not Masquerade. I think I think he could give me the greatest match I could have right now.” I stated honestly.
“And what if he doesn't?” Marina asked turning her head, brown eyes staring at mine.
“Well…” I huffed looking down for moment before looking back up to meet her eyes. “Then I’ll just kick his ass.” I answered with a smirk, though my joke landed flat before us.
“I have to be hopeful.” I told her honestly. “I need to believe that this match could either give me what I wanted or maybe rejuvenate something in me to be able to find it.”
Slowly, as if it was one of the hardest decisions she had ever made, she slowly nodded her head as I checked some of the noodles, making sure they were at the right softness. Meeting my satisfaction, my hands moved to the handles of the pot but my wife grabbed my hands quickly to stop me.
“I’ll strain it.” she smiled sadly lifting up the heavy pot to drain the water from the noodles and finish preparing the meal. “You wash your hands and get Memphis.” she ordered gently and left the conversation at that, allowing me to, once more, adopt the persona of doting husband and proud father. With a nod, I went downstairs to fetch my son for his deserved ‘perfect test’ dinner.
I'd like to say there’s more to this chapter that's exciting. But, as you will soon find out in my promo and as I've made adamantly clear in this, I can't promise you the same entertainment as before. Things have changed and I find myself facing an odd set of choices as they lay before me… So enjoy the promo and maybe I'll see you next time …
************************************************
The camera opens up to reveal a spotlight in the middle of a wrestling ring, the rest of the scene in complete darkness. In the middle of the spotlight, however, is a single folding chair. The entire scene is silent for a moment until the sounds of footsteps are heard walking in the dark. Only a second passes until a familiar figure steps out into the light. He has long, black hair, a ragged, red long coat filled with holes, a matching top hat, and a mask covering his entire face – a mask with a sinister smile along it.
Aaron, my boy… the voice echoes just a bit from under the mask. Tonight is the night. The night where it all ends! And I am not saying that because the show is called ‘Apocalypse’. Yes, that would be original and creative, wouldn’t it? “END OF THE WORLD JOKE/ONE-LINER”! Haven’t heard that before.
No, Aaron. the masked man shakes his head. This is truly the end for us. For this war that has lasted for most of this entire year that the world can’t just wait to end. A war that started between you and me… with the best of intentions. And that leaves me, the one that made the request for this match, with a single choice left…
Slowly, the Greatest Showman of SCW removes his top and throws it away and out of the ring. And I chose to tell you the truth about the man behind the curtain. The person that exists – that will exist – when the show ends tonight and the curtains fall on our feud.
Because I mean it, Aaron. I did start all this with the best of intentions. Because I truly believed that you were the one person in all of SCW that could be the next “entertainer”. The guy that could not only make history within SCW by winning numerous titles but could also do it in a way that was new, innovating, revolutionary! I thought “here is a man that is so like me when I started. Raw potential and a mind that thinks outside of the box. You weren’t a ‘cookie-cutter’ character like the beauty queens or the ‘wrestling prodigies/gods’. You were something else entirely.
And I wanted to help you get to that level. I wanted to keep the entertainment alive. Because I was sick of watching SCW and seeing the same people… blonde brats… whining and crying for some of the longest segments I’ve ever had to struggle through watching. And you know how things went from there. How it all fell apart…
But… but it was more than that. Something I didn’t tell you. Carefully, Valiant shrugs off his long coat and tosses it out of the ring, revealing the dark, maroon shirt he wears underneath. Taking a deep breath, the Man Who Laughs sighs before speaking. It was that I saw in you the person that could give my career the ending it deserved.
Shilo is silent as he stands in the spotlight, his head and face never even flinching. Let me explain and then you can call it what you will. Call it vanity, if you must, but I’ve always been a showman. I’ve always cared about the entertainment. Let me tell you something about my career, kid.
In the ten plus years since I debuted in SCW, I have practically done it all. Four World title reigns, Three United States title championships, winner of the God of Wrestling tournament, and the only person to headline the main-event of Rise to Greatness three years in a row. I could go on, but I’ll put it this way. Where you need to tell the world every week who you are and what you can do? I just had to walk out before the crowd and stand in the spotlight. That was who I was and that was the career I have had. And yet… I didn’t get the ending that such a career deserved.
Back in 2017, I left SCW, not with a bang. Not with fireworks or even farewells. I took a bow on stage after blindsiding Ace Marshall and that was it. Even the Hall of Fame Ceremony, which was an honour for me – no, I’m not a bitch like Christy Matthews – wasn’t quite enough. Because a stage like that wasn’t where Shilo Valiant began as a wrestler. It was in a ring. And as I accepted the Hall of Fame ring, I I knew that that was where I needed to be one last time to have the ending that was needed for me. I needed an ending that was… that was entertaining. Is that so much to ask for, Aaron? Wouldn’t you like your career to end on your terms when the time comes?
With ease, Shilo pulls off his fingerless gloves, tossing them out of the ring.
And I thought that you – and only you – could give me that ending at Rise to Greatness. You, Aaron Blackbourne. Not Bree Lancaster. Not Syren. Not Masquerade. Not Jason Zero. Not Shawn Winters or CHBK – you, Aaron, could give me the match, on the show where I made history that will never be forgotten because no one will ever be able to do it again.
And I’ll be upfront with you, Aaron, you tried. Gods I know you tried. You brought the fight no matter how much I goaded you, teased you, hit you, threw you… you flat-out outwrestled me. I will give you that. I will be say you did exactly what you swore you would do. Beat me. You got your victory and you can brag about it and hold it close to your heart as a highlight of your career. On your own terms? You succeeded, Aaron.
But mine? You… Shilo stops and shakes his head. WE failed.
You didn’t see it, Aaron. You had your win and you just walked away. But me? I needed a moment to recover from that beating you gave me. And as I came too and pulled myself to my feet, do you know what I saw? There was no SCW Universe watching me or you or applauding the battle we had just fought. There was no thank you from the masses for the war and entertainment we had given them from months. There was no seconds given to us by SCW management to soak in the moment that belonged to both of us.
Rather, the management blared out a tune and had the SCW Hall of Fame class of this year strut out and take up the focus. Shilo’s bare hands can be seen clenching into fists.
I was still in the ring. I hadn’t even had the time to leave it. And SCW was moving on with the show. Couldn’t even give me the time to leave the ring and thank the SCW Universe. No. They drowned me out. On MY show. On a night where I was supposed to silently take a bow and hand the entertainment over to you.
They were done with us, Aaron. They took our months-long feud and just swept it away. Took the entertainment of our match and quickly swept it under the carpet.
I can’t tell you how much that hurt – how angry it made me. Like I wanted to pull the hair out of my head! Reaching up and with a slow, long pull, Valiant pulls at his hair, tearing the long wig off and revealing the shorter-cut real hair underneath. With an angry throw, the clump of fake-hair joins the other discarded items outside the ring.
I couldn’t let my career end like that. Like my last match wasn’t a show-stopper! A spotlight-stealer! I refused to let that happen to me again! So, yes, Aaron, I devised this match between you and I. I chose the match that I created. That I made famous.
Because this time… slowly, hauntingly, both of Shilo’s hands reach up towards his mask, gently removing it to reveal his full face with a trimmed goatee and piercing eyes. We will not fail, Aaron. No more poems. No more light tricks. No more mannequins. No more hauntings and no more masks. Looking down at his mask, Shilo bends his knees to sit down in the chair behind him, the mask still in his hands. You and I are going to give this story – and possibly my career – the ending we BOTH deserve. The ending that should have happened back in Minneapolis. And this isn’t the Entertaining One talking to the Creative One.
This is Shilo Valiant talking to Aaron Blackbourne!
You are going to give me the ending I want, Aaron. Because this time, I’m not giving you a choice. I am not giving you the chance to just walk away when you ‘think’ it’s over or when you’ve had enough. I’m not letting you let me be swept under the rug again. You will give me the ending that our war and, possibly my career, deserves one way or another.
Valiant lifts his empty hand. Option one. he holds up his pointer finger. You fight me and you beat me. And I don’t mean you beat me as in you manage to keep me down for three seconds. I mean that you beat me until I can’t get up anymore! Because I don’t care if the bell rings, Aaron. If I’m still standing, then I’m still fighting you, do you understand?! This does not end until one of is left on the ground, within the Big Top and unconscious and bloody, you get me? And if you think I can’t hang with you that long, just remember that I’m the guy that ran the fucking royale from start to finish. Yeah, the two crybabies whining about “who’s the Ironwoman” don’t have shit on what I’ve done.
You fight me and you beat me and you keep beating me until I can’t get back up, Aaron. That’s option one. Shilo takes a short breath before holding up a second finger. Option Two: I’m the one that leaves you bloody and unconscious in the Big Top.
The Showman’s eyes narrow as his hands fiddle with the mask he wore. And the same conditions apply, Aaron. If I think you can still, I’m not going to end the match. I’m not going to try and get a ‘quick pin’ or a ‘lucky counter’. No! Because then SCW will just cut to a teaser of the next match and you and I will be forgotten again. NO! Shilo’s yell echoes in the dark space, his free hand slamming into his left knee, as if to hurt himself a little.
No, Aaron. Unless you stop me like I said in option one, I will not stop until I believe you are finished. Until I can see that you are unconscious…that your creativity has run out. Only then, Aaron, will I pin you and end this match. Because THAT, Aaron, and only in that, Aaron, will I get what I want – what I need – what these necrophiliacs and junkies need.
An entertaining answer… An entertaining end. Shilo takes a deep breath, rubbing his short goatee with his hand. One way or another. That’s how this show will end, Aaron. And either way…whether you want to or not – whether SCW wants you to or not – you will, finally… make me laugh.
Holding his fingers, Shilo is about to snap them but stops himself, instead casting his eyes up to look at the spotlight shining down on him. Don’t let me down, kid… his voice has a slight shake to it as he smiles. A genuine, hopeful smile rather than the dark smirk made famous by the jester. I’ll leave a light on for ya…
Carefully, Shilo pushes himself out of the chair and walks into the shadows, the spotlight remaining turned on for his opponent as the camera fades to black.
09-12-2020, 11:50 PM
Sometimes, the things that haunt you aren’t able to comprehend when you’ve moved on and left them behind.
In the process, they only make your current troubles worse by providing an unneeded distraction.
While it might have been hard to tell during the course of Breakdown, Aaron wasn’t exactly in the best of moods going into that night in Houston. Given that he was just days removed from being separated from his fiancée as the latest step in the desperate efforts of ‘Doctor’ Nancy Black to try and make a name for herself at their expense, he had no reason to feel as though he were on cloud nine and not even the prospect of seeing what was next for him in SCW now that Shilo was finally in the rearview mirror could change that. The only thought running through his head that entire night, just as it had during the entire road trip into the Lone Star State, was fear for whatever was happening to Liane now that her parents had been given a dubious sense of control over her once more.
While he’d never been in one himself, thankfully, Aaron still had some justified beliefs as to how much being locked in a mental hospital was actually going to ‘help’ the love of his life, and every single concept just made him cringe.
Still, if there was one thing Aaron knew how to do, even if he’d been told several times over by this point how unhealthy it was, it was being able to mask his troubles in order to focus on what was directly in front of him. After all, Peyton had needed him, Owen and Kelcey to help keep her mind off both the aftermath of her broken wedding plans with Alistaire as well as the gloating of Glory Braddock when she decided to once again burn a Trios contract to try and become World Champion. Not to mention he’d been given time to speak as a means of casting the proverbial line into the water to see what fish would bite now that months of head games and attempts to make him doubt himself had finally come to an end, and standing in front of those fans did lift his spirits a bit as he got to speak what he believed would be his final piece on ‘The Man Who Laughs.’
Looking back on it, he really shouldn’t have been surprised that someone like Shilo, eternally hungry for the spotlight that was his calling card, wasn’t going to accept defeat that easily, no matter how clear it was.
When Shilo presented his challenge, wanting one last dance with the creative soul despite everything, it became difficult for Aaron to keep his frustrations sealed up, though if Shilo had noticed the cracks he decided not to say a word. The win at Rise to Greatness that had seemingly put an end to it all was the only positive he had to cling to after Liane had been torn away from him, and even that turned out to be a temporary reprieve at best. He’d managed to restrain himself from giving in that easily to the jester’s whims, buying himself some time to truly think about the trap that had been laid out before his very eyes and whether or not it was worth it.
For the rest of the night, he’d ignored the prodding he heard in the back of his mind to simply accept the match, not wanting to feed his stress any further and instead focus on trying to be strong for the people who needed his shoulder to lean on. After all, he’d hoped that with any luck, the biggest problem on his plate right now would be resolved fairly quickly and he could easily shift gears into deciding if indulging in Shilo’s ‘apprenticeship program’ one more time was worth it.
“She did WHAT!?”
The day after Breakdown, Aaron had managed to get a hold of Dr. Marsh-Asher, stating that they needed to talk urgently about some new developments in the mess regarding their ‘friend’ Nancy. James hadn’t been available beforehand due to a fairly high workload he’d been saddled with as more and more people began to mentally fall apart and act irrationally the closer the country got to election time, but he’d managed to make a hole so the two could have a video chat. Laying on the bed of his hotel room and silently lamenting how empty it felt not having Liane there with him, he’d explained everything to the therapist that went down in Royal Oak days prior and why it was just him on that side of the call, and to say that the former SCW star was in absolute disbelief was an understatement. Aaron briefly reiterated some of the information to, unfortunately, confirm that everything James had just been told was true, as well as reminding himself that it had actually happened as much as he wanted to imagine otherwise. It took the doctor a few moments to really let it all sink in, aided by a hand on his shoulder that reached in from outside of the camera that made it clear he had reinforcements if necessary on this matter, but he still sounded a bit shaky when he finally found his voice again.
“Aaron, are you sure of what you saw on those documents?”
“I wish I wasn’t, but they were clearly notarized by a city official. As much as I want to believe they were forgeries, I know from years of being a designer how to tell the difference between real and reproduction, and those papers were the real deal sadly.”
James leaned back in his chair and let out a very deep breath, a barely audible ‘fuck’ finding its way out of its lips in the process. He was clearly troubled by this, and given that he’d been kind of dealing with this woman as well through her efforts to get him out of the picture as a loose end that could unravel everything, that was a bad sign.
“If she actually got legal documents to give Liane’s parents the power to make decisions on her behalf on grounds of mental instability, there are only two ways she could have done it: stealing and modifying my notes regarding her, which is impossible since they’re always either here in my office or otherwise with me and don’t provide any evidence that being committed should even be considered an option, or forging her own and finding some loophole to present herself as her doctor even though all your medical records should have me listed as your psychological care provider. And sadly, given how she got away for weeks with the false police claims she used to tie me up with matters pertaining to the orphanage, that second option sounds reasonable.”
“I really didn’t want to leave her there James… I could see the fear in her eyes when we were told what their plan was, and I don’t blame her. If I can be honest for a moment…”
Aaron paused, mentally asking himself if he wanted to actually say this, though the fact that the doctor was given him his undivided attention now meant he’d already passed the point of no return. With a deep and shaky breath, he continued.
“If I can be honest, doctor… while I wasn’t lying when I told you on our first meeting that I had my concerns on how someone like you would view the kind of imagination I have, my fears are a little more rooted in reality. When my brother Andrew was mentally falling apart while he was still alive and in that toxic relationship, he was committed for a time because doctors thought it would help… and they only exacerbated the problem with how they treated him before my mom made them discharge him.”
“Your concerns are valid Aaron, as much as I hate saying that about something that falls in line with this profession. There’s a reason why committing people is an absolute last resort for many of us, and we typically pull the trigger not because we believe it will actually help, but because we consider someone so much of a threat to themselves and those around them that they need to be isolated for everyone’s sakes. In those cases, some progress can be made over time, but there’s a reason why some forms of media that treat those facilities more like a prison aren’t actually that far off the mark.”
James very clearly didn’t look comfortable saying any of this, especially seeing the look of horror that overtook the creative soul’s features on the other end of the video call, but considering being committed was an option that had been thrown around for himself on a few occasions and now he knew some of the secrets from being in a profession capable of doing that, he saw no point in sugarcoating anything on a process he held some disdain for in his own right. Still, he had a job to do, and Aaron’s concerns needed to be squashed for them to get anywhere.
“If she hasn’t been there that long, or hasn’t actually been committed yet, then we can get a handle on this mess before it snowballs. Do you happen to know where she was going to be taken to?”
“I’m afraid not. Her parents mentioned taking her somewhere as soon as I was gone, but they never said where. Although…”
Aaron couldn’t help but slip into thought as he tried to recall the details of that meeting, as much as he wanted to just forget any of it ever happened. As he did, however, something managed to stick out that made his eyes slowly widen, and this wasn’t lost on the man on the other side of the tablet screen. When Aaron’s eyes fully focused on James again, he saw him motioning slightly with his hand, giving him a look that clearly said to go ahead if he remembered something that might be of use.
“I know Liane’s mentioned in one of our past sessions that the driving force behind a lot of the way her parents acted was the belief that they were ‘too old’ to try and make their own dreams a reality anymore. I… might’ve made a comment about that before I actually left, just to get it out of my system since I’d planned to bring it up anyway as a sort of ‘peace offering’ I guess. David Helms becoming World Champion when he did actually kind of helped give me a valid example to fall back on, and… at least from the looks on their faces, I think I might’ve actually gotten through to them, even a tiny bit.”
“In that case, you may have sown the seeds that will allow us to fix this before any significant damage is done.”
Aaron’s caught off guard a bit by the additional voice, but James nods in agreement and shifts his camera over slightly to reveal who the hand from earlier was connected to. The man in question was much older than James, but his face clearly carried years of experience in this profession that quickly helped put Aaron somewhat at ease.
“I apologize for startling you, young man. I’m Dr. Sharpe, Dr. Marsh-Asher’s mentor and former therapist, as well as having some responsibility, unfortunately, in the creation of the problem you’re currently facing.”
“I hope it’s alright, but considering Nancy used to study and intern under Dr. Sharpe as well, he would know this woman and how she operates better than even I would.”
Aaron couldn’t help but nod at that assessment, considering that sometimes the person best suited for ending a monster’s reign of terror was the one who helped create it. He could hear something in the back of his mind calling this a horrible idea because ‘too many people were getting involved now’ but he shrugged it off. It was a weak effort by Nemesis to try and add unnecessary stress to an already volatile situation, but he wasn’t surprised the attempt was actually made if the stress-fueled abomination lurking in his imagination was growing desperate in regaining all the power he’d lost.
“In regards to what I’ve heard, both today and from my colleague here, I can’t say for sure whether or not Mr. and Mrs. Forte would have already gone through with their plan to commit Liane, but if you gave them even the tiniest reason to second-guess what they’ve gotten tangled up in, any hesitation might have bought us all the time we need. Make no mistake Aaron: Nancy has tried to manipulate both the law and basic medical conduct, but she’s so focused on what it will get her that she’s been doing a very poor job of covering her tracks. Considering that Dr. Marsh-Asher here has more than enough documentation to overrule this ridiculous notion that she is actually Liane’s therapist, and I have firsthand experience to call into doubt the legitimacy of Nancy’s practices, this is a decision that can easily be overturned.”
Aaron can’t help but smile as he leans back into the bed more, a wave of relief washing over him. All he wanted was for Liane to be safe and sound so the two of them could reach the stage where they could call one another theirs until death do they part, and all these unnecessary extra obstacles he had to overcome just to get that happily ever after were beginning to take their toll. Was it really that hard to ask for one moment in his life where something would go right and actually stay that way? Before he could indulge too deeply in the first bit of joy and relief he’d felt in days, his smile slowly faded when he saw Dr. Marsh-Asher holding up a hand to get his attention.
“I don’t want to rain on your parade Aaron, but just because all the evidence is in our favor to undo this doesn’t mean it’s something we can resolve overnight. Even ignoring the time we’d need to head out there to sort this out, a legal matter like this will no doubt have a few hoops that will take us some time to jump through, just like it did when Nancy pulled this stunt to try and have my orphanage in New York shut down.”
In response, Aaron spat out a frustrated sigh as he grabbed a nearby pillow and pulled it over his face to muffle the groan he couldn’t resist letting out. He knew better by now that nothing was ever going to be as easy as it might be if it took place within his imagination, but he still couldn’t keep from feeling hopeful in these kinds of situations until something anchored him back in reality. He vented a bit of this frustration by hurling the pillow at the wall, watching at it impacted before falling harmlessly to the floor. It felt good letting off a little bit of steam, though when he heard someone clearing their throat he snapped his focus back to the video call, eyebrow raising in curiosity as he noticed James now had a notepad out in front of him.
“I know you’re frustrated about all of this Aaron, and you have every right to be. And since we’re already mid-call… anything you want to talk about that will help you feel better until Dr. Sharpe and I fix this mess?”
Aaron was about to shake his head and bring an end to the call, considering they’d already covered the main purpose of this conversation, but he stopped himself when his thoughts flickered back to Breakdown, reminding him of the tiny bit of light he had amidst the darkness being ripped away because his months-long issue wasn’t over quite yet, not to mention the proverbial knife he could feel twisting in his heart when he was around Peyton because of how she was feeling in the wake of what happened with Ali.
“I guess… I wish Breakdown would’ve gone a little better last night, to at least give me some kind of rock to cling to in the meantime. But for as well as I tried to hide it so my personal and professional mindsets could stay separate, I was starting to crack by the end of the night. Between…” Aaron briefly paused, feeling uncomfortable about sharing some of the personal news of two people he was close to, at least until James reminded him of the rule of doctor-patient confidentiality, which helped him open that door a little further. “Between Peyton and Alistaire’s engagement falling apart, which I think has given Nemesis an excuse to start trying to spark negative thoughts on the same happening between Liane and me after everything that happened, and Shilo deciding he wants one more match with me, Under the Big Top, even when I beat him clearly in the middle of that ring because ‘my apprenticeship isn’t over yet,’ I left the arena feeling like I was losing what little control I had left on my life.”
“…I think you should accept his challenge.”
Aaron’s gaze had lowered while he was speaking, but hearing James’ response immediately snaps his attention back to the screen. The therapist has the kind of grin on his face that practically screams he’s got an idea forming, and it certainly catches the artist’s intrigue as he watches the raven-haired man jot down a few more notes before silently conferring with Dr. Sharpe on something, and once they’re both in agreement he decides to elaborate a little more on what he said.
“You know full well by now how Shilo operates Aaron, and I can tell you from my own experience that he has a serious problem with knowing when it’s time to let go of things. You’ve acknowledged how badly he needs you, and you’re well aware he’s probably willing to keep playing games until you finally give in. I have an idea, though, on how we can use this to solve more than just your Shilo problem.”
Aaron only looks more confused, which gives his mind the opening to be hijacked as he imagines several scenarios on how this whole thing could go wrong, but he visibly shakes it off. Even if he felt like he was losing control, he was going to hold onto whatever little bit he still had if it meant denying Nemesis whatever he was after. James takes notice of this but decides not to address it as he feels that if this works out the way he believes it will, it’ll resolve this issue as well without having to bring it up.
“Obviously, Shilo’s trying to challenge your creativity by asking for a match that’s synonymous with him and his showman ways, and I know full well you can win that game and leave him with nothing else to cling to so he’ll finally have no choice but to leave you alone. Spin that however you want to him, but I think it’s the kind of distraction that actually benefits you right now. More importantly… we can use this to show Liane’s parents how much wrestling and sharing your creativity means to you, as well as further proving your point about age being just a number in the grand scheme of things for pursuing one’s dreams. I can secure some tickets for them to be front and center for Apocalypse, preferably with Liane, so you can open their eyes while you put Shilo in his place one last time. How does that sound?”
Naturally, the more negative thoughts were the first to present themselves, trying to convince him that he would only be proving Mr. and Mrs. Forte right about him ‘assaulting people’ for his income and proving how unstable he truly was. Aaron, however, kept searching his thoughts, wading through the swamp of stress and slowly realizing that there were far more upsides to this plan than downsides. Considering their daughter Lane was actively wrestling now and was familiar with it long before that, they clearly had to have some level of interest in it, and seeing exactly what Aaron could do with Shilo’s ‘ultimate opportunity to express himself’ as well as witnessing firsthand the truth to his claims that, win or lose, there were men and women in SCW around their ages or even older that still gave this their all no matter what happened, by the end of the night something was going to have to give and the odds were more in the favor of that being whatever resistance they still retained once the doctors he trusted were done cleaning up the mess Nancy had tried to create this time. Aaron couldn’t help but actually chuckle to himself over this.
“I’d say it sounds like Shilo’s actually going to help me after all, and not in the way he truly thinks he will.”
“Then we’ve got our plan. Dr. Sharpe and I have a few sessions we need to take care of today, but the first chance we get we’re heading out to Michigan to start resolving this. We’ll keep you updated, and don’t hesitate to get in touch yourself if you need someone to talk to until this is sorted out.”
Aaron nodded as the video call came to an end and he tossed the tablet onto the bed. Slowly standing up and walking into the bathroom for a moment, Aaron couldn’t resist taking a look in the mirror as he splashed some water on his face. While at first he saw his own reflection, with a blink of his eyes the face he found staring back at him was none other than that of the jester who’d been trying to attach himself to Aaron’s career for far too long now. And yet… instead of anger or frustration, Aaron simply smiled, even chuckling to himself a bit more as the stress-induced illusion quickly faded and the ideas began to slowly build up in his head.
If Shilo wanted Aaron to be his ‘apprentice’ after all, then maybe he was going to get his wish… but with a little creative twist to it.
That was the obstacle that stood before Aaron at Apocalypse: battling 'SCW's greatest entertainer' on what could be considered his 'home turf' one more time, having specifically been challenged to prove just how creative he could be with the bizarre structure.
The creative soul was no stranger to having his most prized attribute called out like that, and no matter what he'd shared from the endless well of his unique imagination over the years, he knew Shilo was trying his best to push the right buttons to extend his time in the spotlight he'd affixed to Blackbourne just a little longer. The jester had shown conflicting ideas over the months he had been playing games, torn between trying to act as though Aaron was meant to be his successor or believing his own claims that the creative soul was not worthy of that mantle, having copied Shilo's entire schtick and tried to pass it off as his own.
There was no truth to either of those claims, and Aaron had grown tired of the circus act, making it all the more ironic that a circus-like structure would be where it would all finally end.
Needless to say, trying to concoct ideas had proven to be a unique challenge. Not only had Aaron never participated in a match like this, but up until this point he hadn't really competed in any sort of match beyond battle royals and the Open Invitational that sort of broke away from the traditional rules of the wrestling ring. Adding to the difficulty was the fact that he hadn't been allowed to actually try to acquaint himself with the structure to get a solid foundation for what he was working with, no doubt a result of Shilo's insistence on using it to share a series of vignettes during the last Breakdown to spin a few nursery rhymes about what his opponent had gotten himself into.
Still, even when presented with a challenge that possessed so many unknowns, his imagination could find a close enough substitute to formulate a gameplan.
This was why his latest visit to the realm of his subconscious was spent at the Carnival of Rust, finally rebuilt and back in operation following the devastation created by Nemesis last year in an ultimately failed bid to take out one of the greatest threats to his plans besides his maker himself. To say that Ferrugo and his carnie crew were overjoyed at having their home back was an understatement, considering they had celebrated by doing a day of free operation for Aaron and all those who had helped him to bring the nightmare of negativity down with no strings attached, two things that you'd never expect from this twisted fairground otherwise. After all, money and your life force were the usual fees you paid for entry, as was part of the original design laid out by the artist years ago.
Needless to say, the cyborg carnie was delighted by the idea of helping Aaron try to defeat Shilo once more, hence why he'd modified his big top somewhat so that the interior was as close a match as possible to the structure Aaron would find himself in come Apocalypse, albeit larger given that ringside space wasn't a limitation here. He didn't know how much time had passed since time was a relatively vague concept in someone's imagination, but Ferrugo had spent a considerable amount of time watching as Aaron navigated the nets, acclimating himself to their resistance as well as trying out a few ideas here and there with some help from the other carnies that were more than willing to volunteer. The more the artist got a sense of what would and wouldn't work against the restrictions of the environment, the more he seemed at peace with what he had gotten himself into.
“You certainly look like you've had a fun time in my proverbial playhouse.”
Aaron had to stifle a laugh as he was helped out of the nets following his latest act by the ringmaster. He'd be lying if he said it didn't feel weird that Ferrugo had been more open to interacting with him without some sense of an ulterior motive behind it all, but a lot had changed in the wake of the threat Nemesis had once posed, and while he was still lurking out there somewhere and slowly trying to regain his strength, the other denizens of Aaron's mindscape knew that if they could contribute to keeping their creator in good spirits, it would limit what the abomination effectively used as his fuel.
“I can't help it. Shilo challenged me specifically on the grounds that he wants to see what I can do with 'his match.' I don't plan on letting him down.”
To most, the idea of Aaron being as calm and happy going into this would seem bizarre, and they'd be justified considering they'd all contributed to helping him when he walked into battle with the jester back at Rise to Greatness. They had all noticed a change in his demeanor since he'd been in contact with Dr. Marsh-Asher following the first Breakdown afterward, when Shilo had issued the challenge, and Ferrugo was certain he knew what was really going on.
“Is that it though Aaron? Or is there a hidden meaning behind your planner performance? Maybe wanting to make sure you impress not only Shilo but a few 'special guests' as well?”
“…is it really that obvious?”
“I think most of us had a feeling, but it's certainly hard to hide anything like that from a natural born showman.”
Aaron's gaze turned to his feet. Since he'd had that video call weeks ago, he'd heard from James that Liane's parents were willing to come to Vancouver and have front row seats to the show, and Liane would be coming as well. It was basically a test to see if he could get them to fully understand the parting point he'd made after all, or if he had made a mistake and was ultimately driving the final nail into the coffin of what he thought would be his future.
“I want to beat Shilo… there's no doubt about that. I want to leave him with absolutely nothing to cling to this time so that this truly is our final dance. But I also want Liane's parents to see me the way everyone else does… I want them to know what kind of creative soul I can be, how passionate I am for both this business and the message I try to spread. I want nothing more than to walk out of Apocalypse knowing I've killed two birds with one stone.”
“Which in turn leaves Nemesis with nothing. And if that's the case, if I may make a 'humble' suggestion, then your best bet against a showman Under the Big Top should be-”
“Someone who couldn't get the job done once before?”
The addition to their conversation had both of them whip around. Lounging around in the nets was a figure that wasn't there before, but it was a face that was all too recognizable. And yet, despite bearing the visage of Shilo Valiant himself, something seemed off. The voice certainly didn't match even if it held the jester's typical mocking tone that demanded to be made to laugh. As he slowly crawled off the nets in a way that was almost mocking Aaron due to the ease in which he’d performed the action, he took notice of what looked like some kind of fuel pipe snaking its way down the figure’s spine despite their best attempts to hide it beneath the long black hair, causing him to immediately put his guard up. Ferrugo had noticed it too, because as ‘Shilo’ approached he found himself stopping short as soon as the ringmaster’s mechanical arm transformed into what looked like a gatling gun, making sure there was a good amount of space between the two parties. Aaron held up a hand to make sure he didn’t simply start firing, at least until they had an idea of what was going on, and Ferrugo begrudgingly nodded in understanding.
“Oh come now Ferrugo. I know you’re jealous that there does exist a more successful showman out there who isn’t just a figment of someone’s imagination, but that’s no reason to threaten violence.”
“You’re not fooling anyone Nemesis. I would say that you’ve picked quite the new look, but I know you better than that. It’s actually kind of sad when Shilo’s made me so used to head games that I’m not even fazed by them from something that’s actually inside my head anymore.”
Nemesis just rolled his eyes but chuckled regardless, holding his hands up since he’d been caught but opting not to relinquish his facade.
“And who are you trying to fool Aaron? I was actually being nice when I gave you those warning flashes. A relationship between two clearly unstable individuals was never meant to last, and if such holy matrimony between two perfectly good human beings like Peyton and Alistaire can fall apart just like that, then what chance did you ever have?”
“I’m warning you Nemesis: if you don’t leave right now, I’m ejecting you from my big top the hard way. And this time I’ll make sure to finish what the twins started.”
“I’m only trying to help. You’ve got a shiny new carnival over that old decaying scrapyard you had before thanks to me, and Aaron deserves a chance to explore an aspect of his imagination he’s never seen before. Surely you don’t think that whatever you’ve been practicing here today will be enough to beat Shilo a second time, do you? Now… if you simply slipped into the darkness and let me show that clown how it’s done…”
Aaron closed his eyes, trying to drown out the rest of Nemesis’ attempts to taunt him, letting Ferrugo take up the banter and attempt to make him leave. At the end of the day, Nemesis wanted control, and he wasn’t stupid. Letting himself succumb to his stress and anxieties was only going to destroy him, and even if he physically and mentally survived the ride, he would never be able to take back anything that he’d done while under that influence. This monster didn’t have the power yet to try and make any blatant grabs at control, otherwise, he wouldn’t have resorted to this risk knowing full well he couldn’t have enough power to take on one of the strongest creations that resided in this world. But the gamble had to be worth the risk if he could get Aaron to slip just that little bit further, allowing him enough of an opening to try and make some kind of move regardless.
And yet, Aaron couldn’t help but think of the darkness… more specifically, that there was more to it than a tool to fall back on by people who sought to do serious harm. There were entities both real and fictional who had used the cover of darkness to actually do some good in the world, just as there were people who used the light to mask the heinous motives behind their action. They were always two sides of the same coin, never permanently locked into the stereotypes most chose to associate them with but always being interpreted in one form or another. There was something in the creative soul’s arsenal that fit that bill… something that could be considered a weapon of darkness, though to exactly what extent was subject to interpretation. The more he thought about it, the more he believed that it might be the missing piece to his puzzle.
While the conversation had been going on around him had certainly become heated, he could hear whatever Nemesis had been attempting to say come to ab abrupt halt when he finally opened his eyes. While he could see clear as day, the abomination pretending to be the man who had been plaguing his career for months saw a sight it had never witnessed before, and a sight it was certain it never wanted to see again: the sight of Aaron Blackbourne with nothing but endless black voids where his eyes once were. Slowly, he began approaching Nemesis, was took everything by surprise.
“Um… Aaron…?”
“What on earth do you think you’re…”
Nemesis is cut off again as Aaron takes its palm and slowly begins tracing something on it. What starts off as confusion slowly turns into horror as the monster sees that whatever Aaron is tracing is actually being drawn into the flesh, and despite its efforts to pull away its arm is seemingly paralyzed, allowing the drawing to continue. The artist finally finishes his small masterpiece and steps back, and the moment Nemesis takes full stock of the design of a melting skull with a nail driven into its head, the flesh around it is slowly beginning to bubble, the heat spreading as it feels like a fire has been ignited beneath the skin and is starting to blaze through its body internally. With a horrified scream as it could feel the skin starting to peel from the mask it wore, Nemesis quickly disappears into thin air, and only then does the darkness fade from Aaron’s eyes, seemingly snapping him out of whatever trance he’d fallen into. He turns to see Ferrugo staring at him, his lone remaining human eye wide in shock at what he’d just seen. Aaron, however, could only allow his lips to curve into a smirk of satisfaction.
“What… what the hell was that?”
“The perfect idea for how I’m going to present myself when I accomplish everything I set out to do come Apocalypse. It seems fitting that a design I brought to light one year celebrates its anniversary at the expense of someone who’s not so different from its last challenge when you think about it.”
I have watched, time and time again, as unhealthy obsessions have destroyed people around me, from those I held close to those who wanted me dead. If last year’s Rise to Greatness truly left me with anything, it was the mental scars of what happens when I am what someone obsesses over, and how horribly things can end.
I never wanted to find myself in that position ever again… and yet, here we are… barely a full year later, and I’ve been in the crosshairs of someone else for far too long all because they want to satisfy this idea that I will be the puppet they desire instead of being allowed to forge my own path in the world.
When I walked to the back at Rise to Greatness, I truly believed I had finally gotten the message across, loud and clear. The only thing I wanted to be was myself, and no amount of mind games or being made to stand under a spotlight was going to change that. You would think I’d be flattered, having all this attention from arguably one of the greatest individuals to ever set foot in an SCW ring… and yet, the longer it wore on, the more irritated I became. No matter who you are, people can only take being distracted and prodded and having their careers derailed for the sake of someone else’s twisted little game for so long before they finally have enough and attempt to simply shred the script you’ve been reading from up to that point. And yet, despite how frustrated I was, I walked into the biggest show of the year with a level head on my shoulders, knowing exactly what I needed to do to get the definitive victory that would speak far greater volumes than anything else had in the months this was going on, and because I didn’t let myself be blinded by the sideshow act that had all let up to that moment, I thought I was finally free.
I regret not realizing sooner that there was no way a man like Shilo Valiant was truly going to let this end that easily.
When we met on the biggest stage SCW had to offer, he made it clear that he wanted to see if I had what it took to overcome him on what he’s called ‘his’ stage for years. He made it sound so much simpler than it ever truly was, and even as I saw straight through his act and called him out on what he truly wanted out of me, I admittedly failed to realize that there was no way in hell he was truly going to let this go, just like that. That’s never been Shilo’s style, and anything less has always driven him madder than he already is. While SCW is a dream come true for many in this industry, Shilo exists as a cautionary tale of what happens when you become obsessed with everything you take away from getting to live it out, because while he was once a man who somehow found a way to main event Rise to Greatness year after year after year and enjoy that spotlight he craved so much… now he’s become a junkie, lost to his desire to hear the crowd chanting his name once more and blindly following the spotlight wherever he believes he can find that once more.
That’s why I’m ashamed of myself that I didn’t see this coming… that a man like Shilo wasn’t going to let this go after one plain old, ordinary match.
Shilo has made it clear that if he’s going out, it has to be in a grand fashion that will force SCW management and fans alike to forget about all else and sing his praises one last time, even in defeat. He wants to be allowed the chance to ride off into the sunset as people write folk tunes immortalizing him for all that he’s done… in a darker sense, he’s demanding a hero’s death so the world at large will never forget a man who has done so much for this company, despite the fact that no one will ever forget the name Shilo Valiant when they think about Rise to Greatness or list off the best World Champions in SCW history.
That’s why he wanted me to meet him one last time, and in his proverbial playground no less. He doesn’t simply want to give me a whole new world to truly push the boundaries of my creativity and in the process force me to be his successor despite what I want for myself… he wants me to give him the kind of grand finale that will make everyone completely forget about everything else on the Apocalypse card, regardless of how people may view me in the aftermath.
Once again, Shilo is letting his obsession lead to his destruction without any regard for the man he seems to want to follow in his footsteps despite it all, and he doesn’t care.
Make no mistake Shilo: I’ve seen everything I need to know about the Under the Big Top Match. I’ve seen it serve as the crown jewel of the insane brilliance that was Karnivale, and I’ve watched it be the match where you and your former partner nearly destroyed one another. I know you’re hoping that, with no rules to inhibit my creativity, that if you push me hard enough I will put you out of your misery in a fashion befitting the jester who’s always viewed himself as the one true martyr saving SCW from this perceived sense of mediocrity. You want to show me exactly why you were once called ‘The Blood-Stained Joker’ and do everything in your power to destroy me as a means to try and force me to return the favor.
I will fight Shilo… I will fight you with everything that I have, and if you doubt how much heart I possess to push me above and beyond then look back at what I’ve battled against since I first set foot in SCW and understand that I will not say die that easily. But despite that, I will not allow myself to be made into a monster so that you can smile to the grave believing that you ultimately won in the end. I will not seek to abuse this environment to go too far just so you can feel like you had the last laugh at my expense either way.
Try as you might Shilo, I will not be broken just so you can have the sweet release you are looking for.
But as far as a grand finale worthy of the name Shilo Valiant? I’ll give you that, and then some.
You want this to be the end, and you’ve allowed your addiction to demand that we close the curtain on all of this in a match that demands a high spot on the card and all the attention that makes you feel as though you’re back at the peak of your career, only caring about standing in the spotlight and giving the people what you think they want because it’s all you’ve ever known. We could have gotten to this point in any other fashion, but you chose the route that tried to paint me as the villain for daring to refuse your offer of taking your crown and creating this scene where you will either leave that structure of your own twisted design as either a bloody conqueror rejuvenated and ready to keep going or are left a broken man so no one will ever forget what you sacrificed in the name of entertainment. Instead, allow me to revise your script with a third option.
No matter what happens, this is the end of the line. No more matches between us, no more games… against my better judgment, I will give you a curtain call worthy of your legendary status, and I will do so not by feeding into your addiction, but instead doing exactly what you challenged me to do and making the Under the Big Top Match my own, sharing with the world exactly what it is that makes me the creative soul that caught your attention in the first place. And then, when all is said and done… I want you to shake my hand. I want you to prove to me that, despite everything you’ve pulled, you truly respect me and want nothing more than for me to follow in your footsteps, be the man who goes on to entertain those fans each and every week in my own unique way while still rising to the heights you have achieved in your own career. I want you to prove that you’re willing to accept the kind of show-stealing performance we will give those fans in spite of whatever happens and be willing to pass the torch before you take that final bow that allows for your name to be chanted one last time.
If you can give me at least that… then maybe I’ll be willing to carry on your legacy in my own way.
Otherwise… I’m sorry Shilo, but at the end of the night, you’ll be left looking at a broken reflection of the man you used to be, cursed to forever chase a spotlight that has led you astray… and despite my best efforts to help, you’ll only have yourself to blame for letting your demons win.
In the process, they only make your current troubles worse by providing an unneeded distraction.
While it might have been hard to tell during the course of Breakdown, Aaron wasn’t exactly in the best of moods going into that night in Houston. Given that he was just days removed from being separated from his fiancée as the latest step in the desperate efforts of ‘Doctor’ Nancy Black to try and make a name for herself at their expense, he had no reason to feel as though he were on cloud nine and not even the prospect of seeing what was next for him in SCW now that Shilo was finally in the rearview mirror could change that. The only thought running through his head that entire night, just as it had during the entire road trip into the Lone Star State, was fear for whatever was happening to Liane now that her parents had been given a dubious sense of control over her once more.
While he’d never been in one himself, thankfully, Aaron still had some justified beliefs as to how much being locked in a mental hospital was actually going to ‘help’ the love of his life, and every single concept just made him cringe.
Still, if there was one thing Aaron knew how to do, even if he’d been told several times over by this point how unhealthy it was, it was being able to mask his troubles in order to focus on what was directly in front of him. After all, Peyton had needed him, Owen and Kelcey to help keep her mind off both the aftermath of her broken wedding plans with Alistaire as well as the gloating of Glory Braddock when she decided to once again burn a Trios contract to try and become World Champion. Not to mention he’d been given time to speak as a means of casting the proverbial line into the water to see what fish would bite now that months of head games and attempts to make him doubt himself had finally come to an end, and standing in front of those fans did lift his spirits a bit as he got to speak what he believed would be his final piece on ‘The Man Who Laughs.’
Looking back on it, he really shouldn’t have been surprised that someone like Shilo, eternally hungry for the spotlight that was his calling card, wasn’t going to accept defeat that easily, no matter how clear it was.
When Shilo presented his challenge, wanting one last dance with the creative soul despite everything, it became difficult for Aaron to keep his frustrations sealed up, though if Shilo had noticed the cracks he decided not to say a word. The win at Rise to Greatness that had seemingly put an end to it all was the only positive he had to cling to after Liane had been torn away from him, and even that turned out to be a temporary reprieve at best. He’d managed to restrain himself from giving in that easily to the jester’s whims, buying himself some time to truly think about the trap that had been laid out before his very eyes and whether or not it was worth it.
For the rest of the night, he’d ignored the prodding he heard in the back of his mind to simply accept the match, not wanting to feed his stress any further and instead focus on trying to be strong for the people who needed his shoulder to lean on. After all, he’d hoped that with any luck, the biggest problem on his plate right now would be resolved fairly quickly and he could easily shift gears into deciding if indulging in Shilo’s ‘apprenticeship program’ one more time was worth it.
“She did WHAT!?”
The day after Breakdown, Aaron had managed to get a hold of Dr. Marsh-Asher, stating that they needed to talk urgently about some new developments in the mess regarding their ‘friend’ Nancy. James hadn’t been available beforehand due to a fairly high workload he’d been saddled with as more and more people began to mentally fall apart and act irrationally the closer the country got to election time, but he’d managed to make a hole so the two could have a video chat. Laying on the bed of his hotel room and silently lamenting how empty it felt not having Liane there with him, he’d explained everything to the therapist that went down in Royal Oak days prior and why it was just him on that side of the call, and to say that the former SCW star was in absolute disbelief was an understatement. Aaron briefly reiterated some of the information to, unfortunately, confirm that everything James had just been told was true, as well as reminding himself that it had actually happened as much as he wanted to imagine otherwise. It took the doctor a few moments to really let it all sink in, aided by a hand on his shoulder that reached in from outside of the camera that made it clear he had reinforcements if necessary on this matter, but he still sounded a bit shaky when he finally found his voice again.
“Aaron, are you sure of what you saw on those documents?”
“I wish I wasn’t, but they were clearly notarized by a city official. As much as I want to believe they were forgeries, I know from years of being a designer how to tell the difference between real and reproduction, and those papers were the real deal sadly.”
James leaned back in his chair and let out a very deep breath, a barely audible ‘fuck’ finding its way out of its lips in the process. He was clearly troubled by this, and given that he’d been kind of dealing with this woman as well through her efforts to get him out of the picture as a loose end that could unravel everything, that was a bad sign.
“If she actually got legal documents to give Liane’s parents the power to make decisions on her behalf on grounds of mental instability, there are only two ways she could have done it: stealing and modifying my notes regarding her, which is impossible since they’re always either here in my office or otherwise with me and don’t provide any evidence that being committed should even be considered an option, or forging her own and finding some loophole to present herself as her doctor even though all your medical records should have me listed as your psychological care provider. And sadly, given how she got away for weeks with the false police claims she used to tie me up with matters pertaining to the orphanage, that second option sounds reasonable.”
“I really didn’t want to leave her there James… I could see the fear in her eyes when we were told what their plan was, and I don’t blame her. If I can be honest for a moment…”
Aaron paused, mentally asking himself if he wanted to actually say this, though the fact that the doctor was given him his undivided attention now meant he’d already passed the point of no return. With a deep and shaky breath, he continued.
“If I can be honest, doctor… while I wasn’t lying when I told you on our first meeting that I had my concerns on how someone like you would view the kind of imagination I have, my fears are a little more rooted in reality. When my brother Andrew was mentally falling apart while he was still alive and in that toxic relationship, he was committed for a time because doctors thought it would help… and they only exacerbated the problem with how they treated him before my mom made them discharge him.”
“Your concerns are valid Aaron, as much as I hate saying that about something that falls in line with this profession. There’s a reason why committing people is an absolute last resort for many of us, and we typically pull the trigger not because we believe it will actually help, but because we consider someone so much of a threat to themselves and those around them that they need to be isolated for everyone’s sakes. In those cases, some progress can be made over time, but there’s a reason why some forms of media that treat those facilities more like a prison aren’t actually that far off the mark.”
James very clearly didn’t look comfortable saying any of this, especially seeing the look of horror that overtook the creative soul’s features on the other end of the video call, but considering being committed was an option that had been thrown around for himself on a few occasions and now he knew some of the secrets from being in a profession capable of doing that, he saw no point in sugarcoating anything on a process he held some disdain for in his own right. Still, he had a job to do, and Aaron’s concerns needed to be squashed for them to get anywhere.
“If she hasn’t been there that long, or hasn’t actually been committed yet, then we can get a handle on this mess before it snowballs. Do you happen to know where she was going to be taken to?”
“I’m afraid not. Her parents mentioned taking her somewhere as soon as I was gone, but they never said where. Although…”
Aaron couldn’t help but slip into thought as he tried to recall the details of that meeting, as much as he wanted to just forget any of it ever happened. As he did, however, something managed to stick out that made his eyes slowly widen, and this wasn’t lost on the man on the other side of the tablet screen. When Aaron’s eyes fully focused on James again, he saw him motioning slightly with his hand, giving him a look that clearly said to go ahead if he remembered something that might be of use.
“I know Liane’s mentioned in one of our past sessions that the driving force behind a lot of the way her parents acted was the belief that they were ‘too old’ to try and make their own dreams a reality anymore. I… might’ve made a comment about that before I actually left, just to get it out of my system since I’d planned to bring it up anyway as a sort of ‘peace offering’ I guess. David Helms becoming World Champion when he did actually kind of helped give me a valid example to fall back on, and… at least from the looks on their faces, I think I might’ve actually gotten through to them, even a tiny bit.”
“In that case, you may have sown the seeds that will allow us to fix this before any significant damage is done.”
Aaron’s caught off guard a bit by the additional voice, but James nods in agreement and shifts his camera over slightly to reveal who the hand from earlier was connected to. The man in question was much older than James, but his face clearly carried years of experience in this profession that quickly helped put Aaron somewhat at ease.
“I apologize for startling you, young man. I’m Dr. Sharpe, Dr. Marsh-Asher’s mentor and former therapist, as well as having some responsibility, unfortunately, in the creation of the problem you’re currently facing.”
“I hope it’s alright, but considering Nancy used to study and intern under Dr. Sharpe as well, he would know this woman and how she operates better than even I would.”
Aaron couldn’t help but nod at that assessment, considering that sometimes the person best suited for ending a monster’s reign of terror was the one who helped create it. He could hear something in the back of his mind calling this a horrible idea because ‘too many people were getting involved now’ but he shrugged it off. It was a weak effort by Nemesis to try and add unnecessary stress to an already volatile situation, but he wasn’t surprised the attempt was actually made if the stress-fueled abomination lurking in his imagination was growing desperate in regaining all the power he’d lost.
“In regards to what I’ve heard, both today and from my colleague here, I can’t say for sure whether or not Mr. and Mrs. Forte would have already gone through with their plan to commit Liane, but if you gave them even the tiniest reason to second-guess what they’ve gotten tangled up in, any hesitation might have bought us all the time we need. Make no mistake Aaron: Nancy has tried to manipulate both the law and basic medical conduct, but she’s so focused on what it will get her that she’s been doing a very poor job of covering her tracks. Considering that Dr. Marsh-Asher here has more than enough documentation to overrule this ridiculous notion that she is actually Liane’s therapist, and I have firsthand experience to call into doubt the legitimacy of Nancy’s practices, this is a decision that can easily be overturned.”
Aaron can’t help but smile as he leans back into the bed more, a wave of relief washing over him. All he wanted was for Liane to be safe and sound so the two of them could reach the stage where they could call one another theirs until death do they part, and all these unnecessary extra obstacles he had to overcome just to get that happily ever after were beginning to take their toll. Was it really that hard to ask for one moment in his life where something would go right and actually stay that way? Before he could indulge too deeply in the first bit of joy and relief he’d felt in days, his smile slowly faded when he saw Dr. Marsh-Asher holding up a hand to get his attention.
“I don’t want to rain on your parade Aaron, but just because all the evidence is in our favor to undo this doesn’t mean it’s something we can resolve overnight. Even ignoring the time we’d need to head out there to sort this out, a legal matter like this will no doubt have a few hoops that will take us some time to jump through, just like it did when Nancy pulled this stunt to try and have my orphanage in New York shut down.”
In response, Aaron spat out a frustrated sigh as he grabbed a nearby pillow and pulled it over his face to muffle the groan he couldn’t resist letting out. He knew better by now that nothing was ever going to be as easy as it might be if it took place within his imagination, but he still couldn’t keep from feeling hopeful in these kinds of situations until something anchored him back in reality. He vented a bit of this frustration by hurling the pillow at the wall, watching at it impacted before falling harmlessly to the floor. It felt good letting off a little bit of steam, though when he heard someone clearing their throat he snapped his focus back to the video call, eyebrow raising in curiosity as he noticed James now had a notepad out in front of him.
“I know you’re frustrated about all of this Aaron, and you have every right to be. And since we’re already mid-call… anything you want to talk about that will help you feel better until Dr. Sharpe and I fix this mess?”
Aaron was about to shake his head and bring an end to the call, considering they’d already covered the main purpose of this conversation, but he stopped himself when his thoughts flickered back to Breakdown, reminding him of the tiny bit of light he had amidst the darkness being ripped away because his months-long issue wasn’t over quite yet, not to mention the proverbial knife he could feel twisting in his heart when he was around Peyton because of how she was feeling in the wake of what happened with Ali.
“I guess… I wish Breakdown would’ve gone a little better last night, to at least give me some kind of rock to cling to in the meantime. But for as well as I tried to hide it so my personal and professional mindsets could stay separate, I was starting to crack by the end of the night. Between…” Aaron briefly paused, feeling uncomfortable about sharing some of the personal news of two people he was close to, at least until James reminded him of the rule of doctor-patient confidentiality, which helped him open that door a little further. “Between Peyton and Alistaire’s engagement falling apart, which I think has given Nemesis an excuse to start trying to spark negative thoughts on the same happening between Liane and me after everything that happened, and Shilo deciding he wants one more match with me, Under the Big Top, even when I beat him clearly in the middle of that ring because ‘my apprenticeship isn’t over yet,’ I left the arena feeling like I was losing what little control I had left on my life.”
“…I think you should accept his challenge.”
Aaron’s gaze had lowered while he was speaking, but hearing James’ response immediately snaps his attention back to the screen. The therapist has the kind of grin on his face that practically screams he’s got an idea forming, and it certainly catches the artist’s intrigue as he watches the raven-haired man jot down a few more notes before silently conferring with Dr. Sharpe on something, and once they’re both in agreement he decides to elaborate a little more on what he said.
“You know full well by now how Shilo operates Aaron, and I can tell you from my own experience that he has a serious problem with knowing when it’s time to let go of things. You’ve acknowledged how badly he needs you, and you’re well aware he’s probably willing to keep playing games until you finally give in. I have an idea, though, on how we can use this to solve more than just your Shilo problem.”
Aaron only looks more confused, which gives his mind the opening to be hijacked as he imagines several scenarios on how this whole thing could go wrong, but he visibly shakes it off. Even if he felt like he was losing control, he was going to hold onto whatever little bit he still had if it meant denying Nemesis whatever he was after. James takes notice of this but decides not to address it as he feels that if this works out the way he believes it will, it’ll resolve this issue as well without having to bring it up.
“Obviously, Shilo’s trying to challenge your creativity by asking for a match that’s synonymous with him and his showman ways, and I know full well you can win that game and leave him with nothing else to cling to so he’ll finally have no choice but to leave you alone. Spin that however you want to him, but I think it’s the kind of distraction that actually benefits you right now. More importantly… we can use this to show Liane’s parents how much wrestling and sharing your creativity means to you, as well as further proving your point about age being just a number in the grand scheme of things for pursuing one’s dreams. I can secure some tickets for them to be front and center for Apocalypse, preferably with Liane, so you can open their eyes while you put Shilo in his place one last time. How does that sound?”
Naturally, the more negative thoughts were the first to present themselves, trying to convince him that he would only be proving Mr. and Mrs. Forte right about him ‘assaulting people’ for his income and proving how unstable he truly was. Aaron, however, kept searching his thoughts, wading through the swamp of stress and slowly realizing that there were far more upsides to this plan than downsides. Considering their daughter Lane was actively wrestling now and was familiar with it long before that, they clearly had to have some level of interest in it, and seeing exactly what Aaron could do with Shilo’s ‘ultimate opportunity to express himself’ as well as witnessing firsthand the truth to his claims that, win or lose, there were men and women in SCW around their ages or even older that still gave this their all no matter what happened, by the end of the night something was going to have to give and the odds were more in the favor of that being whatever resistance they still retained once the doctors he trusted were done cleaning up the mess Nancy had tried to create this time. Aaron couldn’t help but actually chuckle to himself over this.
“I’d say it sounds like Shilo’s actually going to help me after all, and not in the way he truly thinks he will.”
“Then we’ve got our plan. Dr. Sharpe and I have a few sessions we need to take care of today, but the first chance we get we’re heading out to Michigan to start resolving this. We’ll keep you updated, and don’t hesitate to get in touch yourself if you need someone to talk to until this is sorted out.”
Aaron nodded as the video call came to an end and he tossed the tablet onto the bed. Slowly standing up and walking into the bathroom for a moment, Aaron couldn’t resist taking a look in the mirror as he splashed some water on his face. While at first he saw his own reflection, with a blink of his eyes the face he found staring back at him was none other than that of the jester who’d been trying to attach himself to Aaron’s career for far too long now. And yet… instead of anger or frustration, Aaron simply smiled, even chuckling to himself a bit more as the stress-induced illusion quickly faded and the ideas began to slowly build up in his head.
If Shilo wanted Aaron to be his ‘apprentice’ after all, then maybe he was going to get his wish… but with a little creative twist to it.
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The Under the Big Top Match is one of the most unique match ideas ever presented to SCW audiences; the brainchild of Masquerade and Shilo Valiant many years ago that went from serving as their signature match as Karnivale to being the final challenge of a bitter feud between the two after their friendship had dissolved. Since then, it has resurfaced in SCW very rarely, usually staying true to the belief that it was their match and should rightfully have one of those 'masters of entertainment' contained within.That was the obstacle that stood before Aaron at Apocalypse: battling 'SCW's greatest entertainer' on what could be considered his 'home turf' one more time, having specifically been challenged to prove just how creative he could be with the bizarre structure.
The creative soul was no stranger to having his most prized attribute called out like that, and no matter what he'd shared from the endless well of his unique imagination over the years, he knew Shilo was trying his best to push the right buttons to extend his time in the spotlight he'd affixed to Blackbourne just a little longer. The jester had shown conflicting ideas over the months he had been playing games, torn between trying to act as though Aaron was meant to be his successor or believing his own claims that the creative soul was not worthy of that mantle, having copied Shilo's entire schtick and tried to pass it off as his own.
There was no truth to either of those claims, and Aaron had grown tired of the circus act, making it all the more ironic that a circus-like structure would be where it would all finally end.
Needless to say, trying to concoct ideas had proven to be a unique challenge. Not only had Aaron never participated in a match like this, but up until this point he hadn't really competed in any sort of match beyond battle royals and the Open Invitational that sort of broke away from the traditional rules of the wrestling ring. Adding to the difficulty was the fact that he hadn't been allowed to actually try to acquaint himself with the structure to get a solid foundation for what he was working with, no doubt a result of Shilo's insistence on using it to share a series of vignettes during the last Breakdown to spin a few nursery rhymes about what his opponent had gotten himself into.
Still, even when presented with a challenge that possessed so many unknowns, his imagination could find a close enough substitute to formulate a gameplan.
This was why his latest visit to the realm of his subconscious was spent at the Carnival of Rust, finally rebuilt and back in operation following the devastation created by Nemesis last year in an ultimately failed bid to take out one of the greatest threats to his plans besides his maker himself. To say that Ferrugo and his carnie crew were overjoyed at having their home back was an understatement, considering they had celebrated by doing a day of free operation for Aaron and all those who had helped him to bring the nightmare of negativity down with no strings attached, two things that you'd never expect from this twisted fairground otherwise. After all, money and your life force were the usual fees you paid for entry, as was part of the original design laid out by the artist years ago.
Needless to say, the cyborg carnie was delighted by the idea of helping Aaron try to defeat Shilo once more, hence why he'd modified his big top somewhat so that the interior was as close a match as possible to the structure Aaron would find himself in come Apocalypse, albeit larger given that ringside space wasn't a limitation here. He didn't know how much time had passed since time was a relatively vague concept in someone's imagination, but Ferrugo had spent a considerable amount of time watching as Aaron navigated the nets, acclimating himself to their resistance as well as trying out a few ideas here and there with some help from the other carnies that were more than willing to volunteer. The more the artist got a sense of what would and wouldn't work against the restrictions of the environment, the more he seemed at peace with what he had gotten himself into.
“You certainly look like you've had a fun time in my proverbial playhouse.”
Aaron had to stifle a laugh as he was helped out of the nets following his latest act by the ringmaster. He'd be lying if he said it didn't feel weird that Ferrugo had been more open to interacting with him without some sense of an ulterior motive behind it all, but a lot had changed in the wake of the threat Nemesis had once posed, and while he was still lurking out there somewhere and slowly trying to regain his strength, the other denizens of Aaron's mindscape knew that if they could contribute to keeping their creator in good spirits, it would limit what the abomination effectively used as his fuel.
“I can't help it. Shilo challenged me specifically on the grounds that he wants to see what I can do with 'his match.' I don't plan on letting him down.”
To most, the idea of Aaron being as calm and happy going into this would seem bizarre, and they'd be justified considering they'd all contributed to helping him when he walked into battle with the jester back at Rise to Greatness. They had all noticed a change in his demeanor since he'd been in contact with Dr. Marsh-Asher following the first Breakdown afterward, when Shilo had issued the challenge, and Ferrugo was certain he knew what was really going on.
“Is that it though Aaron? Or is there a hidden meaning behind your planner performance? Maybe wanting to make sure you impress not only Shilo but a few 'special guests' as well?”
“…is it really that obvious?”
“I think most of us had a feeling, but it's certainly hard to hide anything like that from a natural born showman.”
Aaron's gaze turned to his feet. Since he'd had that video call weeks ago, he'd heard from James that Liane's parents were willing to come to Vancouver and have front row seats to the show, and Liane would be coming as well. It was basically a test to see if he could get them to fully understand the parting point he'd made after all, or if he had made a mistake and was ultimately driving the final nail into the coffin of what he thought would be his future.
“I want to beat Shilo… there's no doubt about that. I want to leave him with absolutely nothing to cling to this time so that this truly is our final dance. But I also want Liane's parents to see me the way everyone else does… I want them to know what kind of creative soul I can be, how passionate I am for both this business and the message I try to spread. I want nothing more than to walk out of Apocalypse knowing I've killed two birds with one stone.”
“Which in turn leaves Nemesis with nothing. And if that's the case, if I may make a 'humble' suggestion, then your best bet against a showman Under the Big Top should be-”
“Someone who couldn't get the job done once before?”
The addition to their conversation had both of them whip around. Lounging around in the nets was a figure that wasn't there before, but it was a face that was all too recognizable. And yet, despite bearing the visage of Shilo Valiant himself, something seemed off. The voice certainly didn't match even if it held the jester's typical mocking tone that demanded to be made to laugh. As he slowly crawled off the nets in a way that was almost mocking Aaron due to the ease in which he’d performed the action, he took notice of what looked like some kind of fuel pipe snaking its way down the figure’s spine despite their best attempts to hide it beneath the long black hair, causing him to immediately put his guard up. Ferrugo had noticed it too, because as ‘Shilo’ approached he found himself stopping short as soon as the ringmaster’s mechanical arm transformed into what looked like a gatling gun, making sure there was a good amount of space between the two parties. Aaron held up a hand to make sure he didn’t simply start firing, at least until they had an idea of what was going on, and Ferrugo begrudgingly nodded in understanding.
“Oh come now Ferrugo. I know you’re jealous that there does exist a more successful showman out there who isn’t just a figment of someone’s imagination, but that’s no reason to threaten violence.”
“You’re not fooling anyone Nemesis. I would say that you’ve picked quite the new look, but I know you better than that. It’s actually kind of sad when Shilo’s made me so used to head games that I’m not even fazed by them from something that’s actually inside my head anymore.”
Nemesis just rolled his eyes but chuckled regardless, holding his hands up since he’d been caught but opting not to relinquish his facade.
“And who are you trying to fool Aaron? I was actually being nice when I gave you those warning flashes. A relationship between two clearly unstable individuals was never meant to last, and if such holy matrimony between two perfectly good human beings like Peyton and Alistaire can fall apart just like that, then what chance did you ever have?”
“I’m warning you Nemesis: if you don’t leave right now, I’m ejecting you from my big top the hard way. And this time I’ll make sure to finish what the twins started.”
“I’m only trying to help. You’ve got a shiny new carnival over that old decaying scrapyard you had before thanks to me, and Aaron deserves a chance to explore an aspect of his imagination he’s never seen before. Surely you don’t think that whatever you’ve been practicing here today will be enough to beat Shilo a second time, do you? Now… if you simply slipped into the darkness and let me show that clown how it’s done…”
Aaron closed his eyes, trying to drown out the rest of Nemesis’ attempts to taunt him, letting Ferrugo take up the banter and attempt to make him leave. At the end of the day, Nemesis wanted control, and he wasn’t stupid. Letting himself succumb to his stress and anxieties was only going to destroy him, and even if he physically and mentally survived the ride, he would never be able to take back anything that he’d done while under that influence. This monster didn’t have the power yet to try and make any blatant grabs at control, otherwise, he wouldn’t have resorted to this risk knowing full well he couldn’t have enough power to take on one of the strongest creations that resided in this world. But the gamble had to be worth the risk if he could get Aaron to slip just that little bit further, allowing him enough of an opening to try and make some kind of move regardless.
And yet, Aaron couldn’t help but think of the darkness… more specifically, that there was more to it than a tool to fall back on by people who sought to do serious harm. There were entities both real and fictional who had used the cover of darkness to actually do some good in the world, just as there were people who used the light to mask the heinous motives behind their action. They were always two sides of the same coin, never permanently locked into the stereotypes most chose to associate them with but always being interpreted in one form or another. There was something in the creative soul’s arsenal that fit that bill… something that could be considered a weapon of darkness, though to exactly what extent was subject to interpretation. The more he thought about it, the more he believed that it might be the missing piece to his puzzle.
While the conversation had been going on around him had certainly become heated, he could hear whatever Nemesis had been attempting to say come to ab abrupt halt when he finally opened his eyes. While he could see clear as day, the abomination pretending to be the man who had been plaguing his career for months saw a sight it had never witnessed before, and a sight it was certain it never wanted to see again: the sight of Aaron Blackbourne with nothing but endless black voids where his eyes once were. Slowly, he began approaching Nemesis, was took everything by surprise.
“Um… Aaron…?”
“What on earth do you think you’re…”
Nemesis is cut off again as Aaron takes its palm and slowly begins tracing something on it. What starts off as confusion slowly turns into horror as the monster sees that whatever Aaron is tracing is actually being drawn into the flesh, and despite its efforts to pull away its arm is seemingly paralyzed, allowing the drawing to continue. The artist finally finishes his small masterpiece and steps back, and the moment Nemesis takes full stock of the design of a melting skull with a nail driven into its head, the flesh around it is slowly beginning to bubble, the heat spreading as it feels like a fire has been ignited beneath the skin and is starting to blaze through its body internally. With a horrified scream as it could feel the skin starting to peel from the mask it wore, Nemesis quickly disappears into thin air, and only then does the darkness fade from Aaron’s eyes, seemingly snapping him out of whatever trance he’d fallen into. He turns to see Ferrugo staring at him, his lone remaining human eye wide in shock at what he’d just seen. Aaron, however, could only allow his lips to curve into a smirk of satisfaction.
“What… what the hell was that?”
“The perfect idea for how I’m going to present myself when I accomplish everything I set out to do come Apocalypse. It seems fitting that a design I brought to light one year celebrates its anniversary at the expense of someone who’s not so different from its last challenge when you think about it.”
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Obsession can be a dangerous thing. Those who have something they obsess over will never be able to admit to the problem, much like an addict will refuse to believe that they are destroying themselves with whatever substance they believe has to be coursing through their veins every second of every day. No matter what you do to help them, all that will ever go through their head is how they can take that next step towards the fix they seek. Those on the outside looking in are left to worry over the well-being of the individual in question, and the longer they go chasing after whatever has caught their eye, the more it all spirals out of control until, at the end of the day, there is absolutely nothing left.I have watched, time and time again, as unhealthy obsessions have destroyed people around me, from those I held close to those who wanted me dead. If last year’s Rise to Greatness truly left me with anything, it was the mental scars of what happens when I am what someone obsesses over, and how horribly things can end.
I never wanted to find myself in that position ever again… and yet, here we are… barely a full year later, and I’ve been in the crosshairs of someone else for far too long all because they want to satisfy this idea that I will be the puppet they desire instead of being allowed to forge my own path in the world.
When I walked to the back at Rise to Greatness, I truly believed I had finally gotten the message across, loud and clear. The only thing I wanted to be was myself, and no amount of mind games or being made to stand under a spotlight was going to change that. You would think I’d be flattered, having all this attention from arguably one of the greatest individuals to ever set foot in an SCW ring… and yet, the longer it wore on, the more irritated I became. No matter who you are, people can only take being distracted and prodded and having their careers derailed for the sake of someone else’s twisted little game for so long before they finally have enough and attempt to simply shred the script you’ve been reading from up to that point. And yet, despite how frustrated I was, I walked into the biggest show of the year with a level head on my shoulders, knowing exactly what I needed to do to get the definitive victory that would speak far greater volumes than anything else had in the months this was going on, and because I didn’t let myself be blinded by the sideshow act that had all let up to that moment, I thought I was finally free.
I regret not realizing sooner that there was no way a man like Shilo Valiant was truly going to let this end that easily.
When we met on the biggest stage SCW had to offer, he made it clear that he wanted to see if I had what it took to overcome him on what he’s called ‘his’ stage for years. He made it sound so much simpler than it ever truly was, and even as I saw straight through his act and called him out on what he truly wanted out of me, I admittedly failed to realize that there was no way in hell he was truly going to let this go, just like that. That’s never been Shilo’s style, and anything less has always driven him madder than he already is. While SCW is a dream come true for many in this industry, Shilo exists as a cautionary tale of what happens when you become obsessed with everything you take away from getting to live it out, because while he was once a man who somehow found a way to main event Rise to Greatness year after year after year and enjoy that spotlight he craved so much… now he’s become a junkie, lost to his desire to hear the crowd chanting his name once more and blindly following the spotlight wherever he believes he can find that once more.
That’s why I’m ashamed of myself that I didn’t see this coming… that a man like Shilo wasn’t going to let this go after one plain old, ordinary match.
Shilo has made it clear that if he’s going out, it has to be in a grand fashion that will force SCW management and fans alike to forget about all else and sing his praises one last time, even in defeat. He wants to be allowed the chance to ride off into the sunset as people write folk tunes immortalizing him for all that he’s done… in a darker sense, he’s demanding a hero’s death so the world at large will never forget a man who has done so much for this company, despite the fact that no one will ever forget the name Shilo Valiant when they think about Rise to Greatness or list off the best World Champions in SCW history.
That’s why he wanted me to meet him one last time, and in his proverbial playground no less. He doesn’t simply want to give me a whole new world to truly push the boundaries of my creativity and in the process force me to be his successor despite what I want for myself… he wants me to give him the kind of grand finale that will make everyone completely forget about everything else on the Apocalypse card, regardless of how people may view me in the aftermath.
Once again, Shilo is letting his obsession lead to his destruction without any regard for the man he seems to want to follow in his footsteps despite it all, and he doesn’t care.
Make no mistake Shilo: I’ve seen everything I need to know about the Under the Big Top Match. I’ve seen it serve as the crown jewel of the insane brilliance that was Karnivale, and I’ve watched it be the match where you and your former partner nearly destroyed one another. I know you’re hoping that, with no rules to inhibit my creativity, that if you push me hard enough I will put you out of your misery in a fashion befitting the jester who’s always viewed himself as the one true martyr saving SCW from this perceived sense of mediocrity. You want to show me exactly why you were once called ‘The Blood-Stained Joker’ and do everything in your power to destroy me as a means to try and force me to return the favor.
I will fight Shilo… I will fight you with everything that I have, and if you doubt how much heart I possess to push me above and beyond then look back at what I’ve battled against since I first set foot in SCW and understand that I will not say die that easily. But despite that, I will not allow myself to be made into a monster so that you can smile to the grave believing that you ultimately won in the end. I will not seek to abuse this environment to go too far just so you can feel like you had the last laugh at my expense either way.
Try as you might Shilo, I will not be broken just so you can have the sweet release you are looking for.
But as far as a grand finale worthy of the name Shilo Valiant? I’ll give you that, and then some.
You want this to be the end, and you’ve allowed your addiction to demand that we close the curtain on all of this in a match that demands a high spot on the card and all the attention that makes you feel as though you’re back at the peak of your career, only caring about standing in the spotlight and giving the people what you think they want because it’s all you’ve ever known. We could have gotten to this point in any other fashion, but you chose the route that tried to paint me as the villain for daring to refuse your offer of taking your crown and creating this scene where you will either leave that structure of your own twisted design as either a bloody conqueror rejuvenated and ready to keep going or are left a broken man so no one will ever forget what you sacrificed in the name of entertainment. Instead, allow me to revise your script with a third option.
No matter what happens, this is the end of the line. No more matches between us, no more games… against my better judgment, I will give you a curtain call worthy of your legendary status, and I will do so not by feeding into your addiction, but instead doing exactly what you challenged me to do and making the Under the Big Top Match my own, sharing with the world exactly what it is that makes me the creative soul that caught your attention in the first place. And then, when all is said and done… I want you to shake my hand. I want you to prove to me that, despite everything you’ve pulled, you truly respect me and want nothing more than for me to follow in your footsteps, be the man who goes on to entertain those fans each and every week in my own unique way while still rising to the heights you have achieved in your own career. I want you to prove that you’re willing to accept the kind of show-stealing performance we will give those fans in spite of whatever happens and be willing to pass the torch before you take that final bow that allows for your name to be chanted one last time.
If you can give me at least that… then maybe I’ll be willing to carry on your legacy in my own way.
Otherwise… I’m sorry Shilo, but at the end of the night, you’ll be left looking at a broken reflection of the man you used to be, cursed to forever chase a spotlight that has led you astray… and despite my best efforts to help, you’ll only have yourself to blame for letting your demons win.