Rice vs Matthews vs Starr vs Kandis vs Blackbourne vs Zdunich

[Konrad Raab]

Chamber Match – Winner receives a US or Adrenaline Championship shot; Winner’s Choice

3 RP Limit

Deadline: 5 PM ET Saturday, October 17, 2020

[Peyton Rice]

OOC: The Character hasn’t had an RP since RTG, a lot to cover, as she goes through the steps from right after RTG to now. Enjoy the journey. 

Part One of Three.



Anything with the “REC” on it is Viewable to the Public.

The Views Expressed By Peyton Rice Do Not Reflect Those of the Publisher. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

A LONG ROAD TO GET THERE:
CHAPTER ONE

(Click Title)

[Kandis.]

OOC: One of two, CD only here. Really like telling this story.
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Under Attack 2020 #1

[Peyton Rice]

OOC: The Journey Continues. Enjoy.

Part Two of Three.




Anything with the “REC” on it is Viewable to the Public.

The Views Expressed By Peyton Rice Do Not Reflect Those of the Publisher. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

A LONG ROAD TO GET THERE:
CHAPTER TWO

(Click Title)

[Ruppy]

There is a delicate balance that some people strive for, attempting to balance caring for their own well-being with caring for the well-being of others.

Unfortunately, the universe was a place that preferred its denizens to always pick one or the other and never strive for both.

Aaron was never good at listening to the laws of the universe on such things, and he had the mental and emotional wear and tear to prove it.

Coming out of Breakdown and going into Under Attack, one would think that the creative soul would have every reason to be feeling good about himself. After all, not only was he announced at one of the competitors in the Chamber Match where the winner would earn a title shot of their choice, but in the main event, he and Owen proved his prose correct when their team efforts overcame the individual efforts of Matt Hodges and Subarashi, leaving the former reeling as he was now set to go one-on-one with Owen having been paid back for the four-way win he notched at Apocalypse on top of still having yet to prove that ‘World Class’ was able to overcome Aaron’s imagination between the ropes. They had made up for the chaos of the prior week and gotten themselves on the board for the Tag League, giving them some ground to work with both heading into the pay-per-view in Atlanta as well as for the rest of the table they would need to stare down at some point in the coming months.

It was hard to justify feeling good when the last thing anyone saw before the show went off the air for the night was the sight of his manager and mentor trapped in the clutches of one lunatic while another simply laughed at her suffering.

Aaron’s thoughts were still haunted by the unintentional distraction Sienna had provided that ultimately led to The Wonderland jumping him and Owen and removing them from the ring long enough for Gio to lock Kelcey in his submission hold, cackling all the while as they struggled to fend off his cronies to free her from his grip. Sienna was the only other person in that arena enjoying the sight, and it made the artist simply wish their tag match from the week before was still in progress so he could wipe that smirk off her face under pretenses that he knew would rattle her far more than simply losing his cool and playing into her delirium.

Patience was a virtue Aaron knew quite well, however, and he only needed to wait for a month at this point before the Tag League would force Gio’s followers to actually fight them this time, though it would be of no surprise to him if the ‘mad hatter’ himself overstepped his boundaries and paid the price sooner.

With an open hole in his schedule for the week leading up to Under Attack, Aaron had decided that a fair amount of travel plans might help him clear his mind and prepare to step into the Chamber with the kind of clarity he knew would be necessary to try and be the one who walked out with his arm raised in victory. This is what led to him traveling from Pennsylvania once the weekend’s house shows were in the books to Michigan in hopes of spending some time with Liane while she was still mandated to remain in the custody of her parents while the legal red tape left behind by their ‘stalker therapist’ was cut down. Unfortunately, it hadn’t been the kind of visit he’d envisioned, as thoughts of your typical mushy couple stuff and going out to spend time somewhere isn’t what he’d gotten. Liane had been reluctant to leave her house and had been a bit more clingy than usual, desperately wishing he didn’t have to make the trip for the pay-per-view and could just stay by her side despite the occasional muttering of a fear that his presence was only doing her more harm than good.

Seeing the state she was in left him with a desire to find the mental institution she’d been forced into and burn it to the ground for what it had done to her.

As much as he really didn’t want to, Aaron had to leave her behind once again, though he promised her that once Dr. Marsh-Asher was done cleaning up this mess he’d spend as much time as he physically could with her to fix whatever they had broken. It was that very thought, along with painful memories that haunted his mind from long ago that bore many similarities to what he faced now, that occupied his mind as he laid down to sleep that night in his hotel room. He knew his final destination on this trip would ultimately have to be Atlanta and the brutal structure that awaited him and five others, but there was one other place he wanted to stop at first, knowing he had the time to answer a calling he felt was virtually demanding his presence at the moment for reasons that were still beyond him. He knew that all would become clear soon enough, but in the meantime, he would need sleep to claim him so he could have the energy to be able to follow this path and see where it was leading him.

To some degree, the designer wasn’t surprised when nothing but darkness greeted him at first when he was certain he had entered a dream state. It almost felt like a recurring trend at this point that his slumber would begin in this void before something would suddenly burst to life all around him, although when it felt like several minutes had passed and still there was nothing, he began to feel off. Staying in this void was usually never a good sign when it came to his dreams, and no matter how much control he did or didn’t have he would always know that one fact for certain. It was why he instinctively let out a sigh of relief when a spotlight suddenly shined down upon him from seemingly nowhere and something began to flicker into view.

That relief turned to frustration when he realized he was now standing in the middle of a wrestling ring, surrounded by a structure made of ropes.

He wanted to groan that his mind wanted to do something with this tonight, as he had seemingly found a way to banish being Under the Big Top from his thoughts and pushed ahead, though he couldn’t deny that it made sense… after all, he would admit that in all the years he’d been doing this and especially for SCW, this match had been his first encounter with anything that had an extra element to it that wasn’t just a straightforward singles clash or had multiple other individuals involved, and the very next pay-per-view would see him thrown into that fire all over again with the Chamber. This structure hadn’t been too forgiving, Aaron remembered that, but from what he’d seen he had a feeling it would be far more lenient on his body than the Chamber would be. Still, as he looked around at the void that seemed to linger for some reason even beyond the ropes that kept him caged, he had to wonder why he hadn’t completely moved past this already despite the connections he could draw.

Whatever time he’d spent attempting to solve this puzzle was suddenly lost when his revolving gaze was ultimately blindsided with what looked like a spinning back elbow that caused it to blackout again.

He had no idea how long his vision had been consumed by the void again. All he recalls is that by the time he began to reclaim it, blurriness had become the filter of choice that kept him from identifying any details of whatever was around him now. He thought he could make out a figure having their arm raised by a familiar shirt of black and white stripes, and the enclosure around him seemed a little more metallic than his previous one, but his struggles to get any further clarity were all in vain. But while he couldn’t seem to see, he was able to hear… and feel.

He could feel what had to be blood pouring down his face… a lot of it.

He could feel his limbs screaming in agony because they weren’t doing whatever they were supposed to.

He could hear several voices discussing the severity of injuries, seemingly ignoring that he was right there to hear it all.

He was positive he could also hear the voice of Owen Cruze, angrily venting that he’d need a new partner now because there was no way he would be able to compete in whatever state he was left in.

All of this only made his head pound in agony as he tried to process it, cursing whatever deity of dreams had decided to strip him of his sight for seemingly no reason. The one thing that he knew for sure stood out was the feeling of guilt… guilt that he’d let his personal ambitions for participating in the Chamber ultimately cost him and Owen a run together through the Tag League because of whatever had happened. Almost as it that feeling itself was the key, Aaron found his gaze getting less blurry, although by the time the haze had lifted he found himself back in the void, and as far as he could see, he was perfectly fine once again.

Unless you count the feeling of dread that had begun to take a hold of him.

As he looked around once more for… anything, at this point, he found himself whipping around at what sounded like a door slamming shut, and almost immediately he was face to face with a metal door, a dull concrete wall attached to it that seemed to extend into being the new prison he had been placed into as it surrounded him on every side. The feeling of guilt continued to gnaw away at him for reasons he couldn’t quite latch onto, though he began to form an idea as to why once he discovered that he was no longer alone here.

A familiar figure was huddled in the corner of the room, crying to herself and begging to be set free.

Aaron’s heart sank at the sight of the woman he loved, fear igniting his every nerve as he began to connect the dots as to what this place was supposed to be, and without any further hesitation he bolted over to her. The dream was cruel, however, and the more he seemed to run the more he went nowhere, the room seeming to expand in size just as quickly to keep him from getting anywhere close to that particular area of the enclosure. As he stubbornly tried to force his way through regardless, he swore he saw flickers of another face from his past, Liane’s form shifting back and forth with another that was far more masculine and larger than even he was, though no less broken. His heart was almost in freefall at this point, fear of whatever was going to happen being the only thing his body would respond to as the means of pushing him forward in this fruitless endeavor. Still, he kept desperately trying to close the distance, and finally, the dream relented, although it chose not to reward him for his defiance and determination.

By the time he could finally reach out and touch the shifting figures of significance to him, all that remained was the lifeless body hanging from the ceiling.

Jumper cables turned into a makeshift noose, face completely blue from lack of oxygen, mouth wide open from desperate attempts to gasp for air they would never get… Aaron could only sink to his knees at the familiar form of his long lost brother in a pose that he had never gotten to see but had heard so many painful details about. There was no resisting the tears that began to trickle from his eyes, and when he saw the figure continue to shift from the form that had actually persisted in this gruesome manner to one that could very well follow him into the afterlife, he could almost feel himself silently pleading with whatever deity was willing to listen to not allow this to happen. The only response he got was the quiet screams that he was certain only he would be able to hear even if he was not alone, blaming him for his failure to act when he had the chance, for not doing more to stop this outcome from coming to pass.

Twice he had known beforehand what was coming, and twice he had accepted that his hands were tied and did nothing to prevent the damage from being done, and all he could do was hate himself for choosing the path of self-preservation even if it was the only one he was even allowed to take by any stretch of the imagination at the time. All he could think about was how much his efforts to help those who meant something in his life only caused destruction as soon as he had even the faintest flicker of aspirations for himself. All he wanted to do to fix this mess was…

Before another thought could cross his mind, he found his eyes shooting open and his body shooting out of bed like a rocket, sweat cascading down his flesh as though he’d been caught in a rainstorm and breath leaving his lips in such rapid bursts he was certain he was going to suffocate himself. He took several minutes of staying still to try and get himself under control, but there was no combating the feeling that was forcing all of the air out of his lungs and all the life out of his soul. His brain barely even registers an attempt to try moving around until his body has already left his bed, heading to the bathroom of the hotel room in hope that some cold water will help snap him out of this panicked state. As he does so, he seems to latch onto the only thought that makes sense to him at the time, and in the unintelligible garbled mess that spills from his mouth as he keeps his focus on the sink and the running water that’s slowly waking him up, he knows there are several curses directed towards the only entity within his imagination capable of causing such disturbances, as it’s a familiar trump card they’ve heavily relied on before when no other options were available.

And yet, as he forced himself to look in the mirror, almost expecting to see the flashes of the mangled abomination that was Nemesis gloating over the latest opening they had created, all he could see was his own reflection… nothing out of the ordinary, except for the noticeable moment when his eyes seemed to narrow into a glare as though he was intentionally trying to stare a hole straight through himself. It lasted only for a moment, but his eyes soon widened in realization that Nemesis was not to blame this time, as much as he knew the monster would love to take credit for this since he now had a new source of sustenance.

There was only one person he could blame for the abyss he’d allowed himself to fall into this time… and that was himself.

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He’d already made small plans to take this trip anyway, but now he almost believed it was mandatory if he was going to even make it to Under Attack in one piece mentally.

As he left Michigan behind while the week dragged closer and closer to the night of the pay-per-view, he took yet another detour away from Atlanta, knowing that he was not ready to set foot in that city just yet. In the back of his mind, he’d been feeling something trying to tell him that there was another place he absolutely had to visit before then, and while he was skeptical at first but figured he had nothing to lose since he had the time to do so, now he couldn’t argue that maybe there was a purpose to this after all and that feeling was something that was desperately trying to help him before he could plunge any further into the empty void. Whatever was compelling him to do this, he could only silently thank them and pray that it actually helped, because the nightmare that had ripped through his mindscape just hours prior still threatened to see him be reduced to a trembling wreck at how much it had managed to get to him, and through the actions of his own increasing self-doubt no less.

He knew, in the back of his head, that if there was anywhere he truly needed to be right now… it was back at the home he’d known for most of his life.

“Aaron? This is a surprise… what brings you back home unannounced?”

All he could recall in the span of the past several hours was his mind being blank, his thoughts having been shut down lest they drift into territory that was going to convince him to do something drastic that would only make everything worse for himself and those who depended on him. A small voice fueling his desire to return to Lowell was the only thing that kept him company, and only now, standing on the porch with his mother being the only blockade into the house, did his brain switch back on and the mess that had mangled his mind resume its torment of him. He did his best not to let it show, knowing it was wrong to do so but acting mostly on instinct at this point as he didn’t want to worry his mom unless absolutely necessary should this seemingly last-second cobbled-together plan fail.

Putting others before himself once more… he could feel the mental scale tip into a state of imbalance as it always threatened to do, and the idea of knowing full well what that would mean for him and his aspirations tore through him, but he tried his best to remain steadfast, consciously focusing on making sure there was no quiver in his voice when he finally answered her.

“I’ve… I came to see Andrew. I feel like I need to talk with him…”

As much as he tries to hide it, he knows his mom picks up on the desperation of his voice as she just nods and welcomes him inside. He knows full well that she’s a firm believer in some of the more spiritual aspects of life, something she’s gotten more into since Andrew’s passing as a means of trying to better control her life before it spiraled from losing one of her children, and she would’ve stated something about his brother’s spirit guiding him home for a necessary conversation if she didn’t pick up on the signs that her oldest was too deep in his own head and needed to fulfill whatever he was here for to help snap him out of it. A simple conversation between her and Aaron had been the necessary resolution several times over the years, but she knew that she couldn’t be the one to cast that line into the inky depths of this lake of self-loathing to try and pull him out this time, and she motioned to the room where he could find the person that would be able to do just that and left him alone with a reminder that she was there if he needed anything.

And thus, Aaron found himself sitting at the edge of his mom’s bed, locking eyes with the red marble urn that contained what remained of one of his younger brothers.

He sat in silence for the longest time, only breaking it when he took deep breaths that indicated he was trying to prepare to say something only to let the thought slip away in favor of the peace and quiet he knew was never going to accomplish anything. The gears were turning in his head, taking the lack of sound as a sign to allow his thoughts to run wild, the guilt from his nightmares returning and slowly consuming him internally. Despite this, even though he had no one he needed to hide this from due to being alone in the room, he fought to maintain a straight face as he finally seemed to retrieve his voice.

“I’m… sorry I haven’t visited to talk in a while. This past year has been… something else, to say the least. You’ll at least be happy to know that Dylan finally got his… he tried to make me join you, but only succeeded in sending himself to Hell. I think I owe you for that one… thank you.”

A bitter smile crept onto his lips, knowing that while he felt he did owe his brother’s spirit thanks for watching over him on that night, they both would’ve preferred if that night never happened… if Dylan had never come into the lives of the Blackbourne family and caused as much carnage as he ultimately did. Still, at least he could take solace in the belief that Andrew and Dylan were in much different places now and would never have to risk crossing paths ever again. This caused the spark to flicker through his mind that reminded him of the truth that had been clouded by the haze that had overtaken him: while Andrew did have his problems spawning from something else he knew he would need to bring up, that had nothing to do with how he had ultimately gone out. That was all Dylan’s doing, believing he’d simply used Andrew until there was nothing left but a body that he could use to start an entirely new game with their family for nothing more than his own twisted amusement. Andrew Blackbourne never took his own life… it was taken away from him by another, and slowly some of the guilt weighing heavily upon him began to disappear.

“I miss you Andrew… I can only imagine how you’d react to where I’m at right now. In a few days, I’ll find myself locked inside a Chamber with five other people, fighting for a title opportunity I’m not entirely sure I should be worrying about right now, considering I have an obligation to a friend to stand by his side through this Tag League that SCW started. At some point in the coming months, I’ll be standing at the end of the aisle, watching the love of my love make her way to me so we can be bound together for the rest of our lives. So many things I wish you could be here for… so many things I know you’d have something to tell me about.”

There was little surprise to the creative soul when the dam broke and his thoughts began cascading through his brain like an untamed river, reminding him not only of what Andrew was missing out on but the doubt that was threatening to drown him and ensure he never even made it to either one of those events. He was no longer trying to hold back his tears as they trailed down his cheeks, but his hands tightened into fists and he found himself pushing ahead, knowing that even if he was still alive Andrew would never judge him for needing someone who understood his position to vent to at such a critical point in his life.

“I know you’d tell me that I have no reason to be as concerned as I am… to stop stressing about this imaginary balance I try to keep. I know some people consider it unhealthy that I’m always putting others before myself because it makes it seem like I could care less about what happens to me… like I don’t think I matter. Believe me, I would love to become a loving husband, I would be overjoyed if I got out of the Chamber both with a title shot and knowing I could still be Owen’s partner because that structure didn’t destroy me like it’s done so many people across so many sections of the wrestling world over the years. You know I absolutely despise letting anyone down… but despite my best efforts, it always seems to happen anyway.”

Aaron can practically feel the bile wanting to creep up his throat and leave his mouth in disgust over what he feels right now about where he stands, growing tired of trying to fight a battle that means something to him but seems to have no effect on anyone else. He wants to find his own success without being deemed self-centered for doing so. He wants to help others however he can without making it seem like that’s the only purpose he’s been put on this Earth to serve. He wants so badly to have his proverbial cake and eat it too, no matter how much anyone tries to tell him it just isn’t possible. He was a creative soul with an endless imagination, after all… when was the last time he ever truly acknowledged what is and isn’t considered ‘possible’ in this world?

Aaron found himself going quiet again as one specific thought began to flicker through his mind: the remnant of that nightmare where all he could see was the alternating forms of Liane and Andrew in what he could only perceive as part of an experience they unintentionally shared, the memory causing his throat to suddenly dry up and feel like he would literally spit fire the moment his lips parted once more. His body trembled as he tried to fight to get a grip on himself, knowing his brother’s ashes would wait patiently until he was ready, but still wanting to just get it out and be done with this. He was growing sick and tired of feeling this way, and he was making it clear even without any words to paint the picture right now. A few coughs and strangled breaths filled the gap until he managed to find his voice once more.

“Liane was committed recently… it happened against her will because this doctor believed it was the only way she could be helped when she was perfectly fine as she was. She wasn’t there for long, but long enough for me to notice that there are pieces of her missing… pieces of my princess that they stole from her, believing there was anything that needed fixing. It… it reminded me an awful lot of the ER clinic that committed you because of your reactions to treatments from issues you never told anyone about. I remember how much you’d changed when you came out, even if you were there for only a few days at best. Whatever they did never helped, it only made things worse… just like with Liane…”

He lowered his head as his body refused to stop spasming from the sobs he tried to hold back, that familiar voice that belonged to no one but himself reminding him that there was more he could’ve done in both situations but never did, all because he feared he would make things worse as his options were virtually nonexistent at those moments. It hurt him far more than he tried to let on that people he cared about were hurt by a broken system and he couldn’t prevent it from happening… once was bad enough and only seemed to further the submissiveness Andrew exhibited in the aftermath to the toxic relationship he was tangled up in with Dylan, but having to relive that trauma was clearly taking its toll and making it harder and harder for him to justify wanting to keep forging ahead with his life.

“I’m sorry Andrew… I don’t… I don’t know if I’m even meant to have a happy ending to my story…”

Aaron tried to get up, wanting to just leave now and forget he’d ever even come here as wave after wave of self-doubt and anxiety slammed into his body, leaving him feeling no different than an empty ship lost at sea, at the mercy of the water for however long it wished to keep the vessel as its plaything. The more he tried to focus on the direction he wanted his life to go in, the more impossible it seemed that he could ever have anything he wanted out of this life. His wrestling success would always be limited, he would never get to spend the rest of his life with someone he loved with all his heart and soul… his mere existence almost always seemed to shatter anyone who he allowed to get close to him in one form or another, and he was tired of being the burden that was only there to hurt without meaning to.

Despite his efforts, something stopped him from moving… in fact, in that brief instant, he almost seemed to find the eye of the hurricane that had been tearing him apart over the past several days, gaining a glimpse of the clarity he’d desperately been missing after losing his mind to the fog for what felt like a much longer period of time than it had actually been. It was almost like someone was trying to will him into remembering a fact of life that good people who put in the work and dedication would always be rewarded. It wasn’t always right away, and often times it seemed as though it took years of being treated like a cosmic chew toy before things finally turned around, but persistence and perseverance always paid off for those willing to stick with it. It almost felt to Aaron like Andrew was forcing him to remember everything that he had managed to do: the help he had given to his long lost brother even when he didn’t want to because of the situation he refused to leave behind, the fact that he had become such a pivotal part of Liane’s life for so many years now much as she had become a part of his, the friendship he had formed with the likes of Owen and Peyton and Kelcey that had weathered every storm that tried to decimate them simply because there was hatred towards what they stood for, the opportunities and accolades he had earned that so many others might never be able to achieve because they simply gave up on trying.

When Aaron did leave Lowell that day, he headed towards Atlanta with a smile he was certain he’d lost and a reminder that he would always have his brother watching over him, ready to cast the light that would remove the darkness and show him that because he was willing to keep pushing forward, no matter what trials life felt the need to plague him with, that he had more than earned the chance to be happy and successful, no matter what anyone or anything tried to claim otherwise.

If anyone was going to find a way to achieve this seemingly impossible balance, it would be him.

That said, this experience did give him a few ideas that certainly made sense given the time of year that was fast approaching… after all, he couldn’t be the only one at least having a few nightmares about what the Chamber was going to do to those who were willing to enter.

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I’ll be honest: I have a lot on my mind going into Under Attack. Considering what I know awaits me, I know that not having a clear mind is going to create several issues, but I’ve never been one to hide the flaws that make me who I am.

After all, it’s what makes me human.

I heard the announcement about being put into this match last Breakdown, though some of you might assume I didn’t, considering I never acknowledged it. Simply put, I had a more immediate concern to focus on, as that announcement was made before Owen and I were tasked with trying to get ourselves on the board for the Tag League to make up for the mess with Sienna and Bree the previous week. Owen clearly had the same thought, as he went about that match not trying to prove anything to the man he’s going to meet one-on-one this Sunday night but simply trying to do his part to get US the win, something we managed to do because once again the hubris of Matt Hodges was ultimately his undoing, much as I believe will be the case again when Owen is able to prove himself without any excuse for the man who deems himself ‘World Class’ to hide behind this time.

But now that we are through Breakdown, there’s a lot on the table left to unpack.

I should be walking into this show feeling good, considering I did win my last match and all. And yet, how Breakdown ended left me with an all too familiar feeling that I’m going to need to focus on far more than just the hell I’m about to endure because so many people just do not know how to let things go. I’m well aware that Sienna is not booked to compete, and neither is The Wonderland in any capacity. I would not put it past either one, especially the latter, to find some way into the structure that’s meant to keep them out all in the name of trying to spread a message that will only ever make sense in their twisted little worlds as a means to an end for vendettas that should have been put to bed several times over by now. Unfortunately, I know how this song and dance goes: they will persist until they get the result they desire and refuse to settle for anything less, no matter how many times they fail and would be better off in virtually any other pursuit that gives them the same freedom as those they are attempting to permanently tie themselves to.

Even if I ignore the scenarios these booking decisions open up, I also know that there’s more at work here if I simply read between the lines a little bit.

At Under Attack, I will be one of six wrestlers walking into this Chamber Match, knowing that the winner will earn an opportunity at either the U.S. or Adrenaline Title, whichever one appeals to them more once the dust settles from this Sunday night. Half of the field expressed an interest in this match taking place with this opportunity at stake, making it clear they are willing to do whatever it takes in order to earn the opportunities they believe have been denied to them, something that I will not argue against when looking over the field. I was not one of these individuals, not because the idea of a title opportunity wasn’t appealing, but because I was content with keeping my full focus on working with Owen for the Tag League and not wanting to step on the toes of another good friend of mine who called for this match to happen in the first place and more than deserves to prove she’s ready for another chance to show the world what she can do. Honestly, I would have been content simply working from what happened at the end of Breakdown and delivering the latest lesson to Gio that no matter how many times he tries, he will never ultimately prevail over on the ‘Perfect Pack’ he despises to the point of obsession now.

Katya, however, decided to include me while trying to call me out on having yet to achieve that ‘true breakout’ everyone believes is still just barely outside my reach.

Since I’ve been included, I’m certainly not going to pass up this opportunity, but I’m also not going to simply ignore the tone of voice I know Katya laced her announcement with. This wasn’t simply about trying to see if I can prove I’m ready to take that next step… I can practically hear all the cries from several people about whether or not I even deserve it after Apocalypse, after all. But I know Katya remembers full well that I wasn’t the biggest fan of hers back in the day considering some of the company she decided to keep, two of whom are actually in this match, and I doubt she’s forgotten that Owen was the proverbial nail in the coffin on her hopes of being the one running the show full time. It seems too convenient that giving me an opportunity also just so happens to put me in a match known to be very dangerous to the ill-prepared, and I wouldn’t put it past her to hope that if she digs enough to try and make me recklessly push myself just to prove something, not only will I not be leaving the Chamber with a title opportunity, but I may not even be leaving it at all under my own power, not only disrupting my path forward but also putting Owen in a bind as he would need a new partner for the Tag League then.

Clever Katya, but I hope you realize that I plan on tackling this match my way, and no amount of silent scheming can ever account for my imagination when push comes to shove, especially when no one else truly knows what to expect from me when I walk out to be locked inside with all of them.

As weird as this might be to say… if there’s any one thing I can actually thank Shilo for, it’s showing me that there’s a major difference between trying to plan for an environment you’ve never been in before and having the experience to know exactly what you’re working with. I fully admitted that when I met him Under the Big Top back at Apocalypse, it was the first time in my entire career I’d ever competed not just in that particular match, but any match that wasn’t as simple as facing one or several other people and trying to either pin them or make them submit. I did the best I could to make that environment my own, but my lack of experience is what ultimately gave Shilo the edge he needed to get the win he so desperately craved before disappearing into the shadows once again. The Chamber is no different… in the span of two months I find myself in this scenario for only the second time, and while I share the inexperience factor with a few people I would be blind to ignore the number of times the likes of Jake Starr and Christy Matthews have been here and know full well what to expect.

On that alone, I would certainly call Jake the biggest threat in this match, because he’s easily the most experience out of all of us when it comes to battling inside this monstrous setup. How many times, regardless of what was up for grabs, have we seen Jake’s name among the list of combatants ready to set foot inside the Chamber? I’ve seen more than enough of these matches in SCW’s history to know that you might as well consider this thing home to some degree Jake, especially since I haven’t forgotten the one year you actually used your Trios contract to essentially create a championship gauntlet for yourself to run through inside this very same enclosure. To have gone that far proves you are comfortable here where many of us will have even a tiny shred of fear and doubt as to how this match is going to change us considering what it can do to the human body. I’m not even going to begin to doubt that you’re quite confident that you’re going to do well… you’ve survived this match several times over and prevailed in some fashion along the way, after all, but all that does is ignite the fire within me that demands I prove to you that, even for a first-timer, I can hold my own inside this hell against a man who’s so familiar to it that it might as well be second nature to you by now. Whatever you have to teach me about the Chamber’s effects on the human body Jake, I’m ready to learn… just don’t be surprised when I decide to show my work in return.

Christy Matthews is equally as dangerous, and unlike some, I’m not going to deny what she’s capable of. She earned her way into the Hall of Fame for a reason, after all, and after how many others who have born that mantle I’ve crossed paths with in SCW so far, I know that it’s no easy feat to achieve. That said, you no doubt look at me with disdain Christy, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I hit the nail on the head there. You’re in a foul mood because people have been calling you out on your attitude, even though I agree that just because you’re a Hall of Famer now shouldn’t mean you just get handed whatever you want, especially when you decide wrestling certain people isn’t even worth your time anymore. I guess it’s no surprise why you’re friends with Syren, considering she’s been the exact same way for quite some time now and no matter how often someone like me proves to her that someone who’s actually willing to bust their ass week in and week out will always prevail over someone like her and prove they’re more deserving, she never gets the message. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if Syren asked you to personally make sure to take me out on her behalf since I doubt she’s forgotten our encounter around this time last year, but that doesn’t change the fact that I know you’ve got the experience edge over me inside this structure… and come hell or high water, I’ll figure out a way to make it work so you can see exactly what Syren never will.

From there, however, the line is clearly drawn as everyone else in this thing, myself included, will be experiencing the Chamber for the very first time. Of that group, I guess it’s only fair I address the one I’m least familiar with in Crystal Zdunich, someone who clearly feels like they should be a much bigger star than they are. I don’t know what it is about you Crystal… whether it’s the overall experience you bring into SCW or this moniker of the ‘Silver Screen Queen’ that you feel you have to portray at all times, but so far you’ve given me no reason to buy into the hype you’re trying to paint for yourself. You’ve proven the talent is there, otherwise, I doubt Katya would have considered throwing you into this match considering who we’re talking about here, but it’s hard to find buried beneath the shortcuts and the fights you try to pick with people you believe should be easy wins for you just because you say so. Before you start thinking that you can use this to your advantage, know that I’m not taking you lightly just because of the track record you bring into this match. If Chamber Matches are known for one thing, it’s creating the perfect scenario for the unexpected to happen, and forgetting about the threat you could pose is not how I want to go out if victory in this match is not meant to be for me.

Then we have Kandis, who is probably salivating at what’s in front of her right now. The fact that she could have a title opportunity sitting in her lap while Tommy may walk out of Under Attack as interim World Champion, the idea of potentially putting down some long-term rivals of hers in order to be victorious… and of course, the one thing I’m not going to overlook with her, the fact that even if it’s not exactly the same, her previous experience as an MMA fighter no doubt means she’s familiar to some degree with fighting within a confined space like what the Chamber presents. All of these are reasons why Kandis shouldn’t be written off, no matter how much it wouldn’t surprise me to hear her only address me on the grounds that the one and only time we’ve crossed paths was one where she and Tommy won a tag match. Again, it goes back to the experience edge they had, but while Kandis might be familiar with an octagon if that’s where her MMA endeavors leaned towards, she’s just as new to the Chamber itself as I am and a lot has changed since that match, and make no mistake Kandis… I know how badly you want this, what it would mean for you and Tommy to be sitting on cloud nine coming out of Under Attack, but if I’m going to be challenged to prove I’m finally ready to ‘break out’ then you better believe I will make this Chamber my personal playground in whatever creative way I can to make my statement known.

Which, ultimately, leads me to you Peyton… I’m not going to lie, I have mixed feelings about you being one of the people I would have to get through in order to win this match. Don’t get me wrong, I will never have an issue with the two of us competing against one another to prove what this sport should be about and why we are both considered a big part of its future, but… I can’t help but reflect back on the last time we crossed paths. I will never apologize for giving you nothing less than my very best on that night because I know you’d be disappointed if I didn’t push you to your limits, but I still have regrets about everything that followed… the fact that I did prevail on that night and cut short your chances of breaking a record, the fact that I didn’t do your reign justice when I lost the TV Title so soon afterward, even if we all know where most of that blame should go and what we now know about the man who did dethrone me. I look at this, and I almost feel like Katya, again, did this on purpose, almost hoping that if we end up the final two that she might create some sort of rift regardless of who ultimately has their hand raised at the end. For as much as I’m being personally challenged here… if I did have to fall short, I would prefer if it was to you, Peyton. You deserve this far more than I do right now, for the simple fact that you’ve been ignored and denied the chance to bounce back when you truly deserve the opportunities. I’ll be fine… Owen and I have the Tag League, after all, and I think I’ve kind of developed this habit of always finding some way to fight until I find a champion standing across from me with their gold on the line, knowing that one of these times that won’t be where that story ends. You know me and what I’m capable of well enough to know that you can trust me when I say that I’m still going to challenge this Chamber and everyone in it, yourself included, with nothing less than the very best of my natural abilities and creative ideas, so there will be no doubts lingering if and when you do rise to the top once all is set and done.

I think it goes without saying that the Chamber presents a unique challenge for all of us, no matter who among us was willing to ask for this nightmare all in the name of proving you deserve the opportunities at stake or is still just as eager to throw themselves into the fray to prove what they can do. Let me make myself clear right now: regardless of the outcome of this match, I plan on showing what I can do with the Chamber and proving that, even if my time isn’t now, it may be a lot closer than you think it is, and the more I keep on fighting the sooner it’s going to happen. Those who show patience and persevere through whatever challenges are thrown their way will ultimately earn everything they’ve been fighting for, and as I said… even if I don’t get a title shot out of the Chamber, who’s to say that what I do within won’t catch someone’s attention for down the line? Plus, I still have the Tag League, so I’m not exactly limited on options. All I will promise, however, is that I will push each and every one of you to your limits within this diabolical structure…

What happens next will depend on how hungry you are compared to what I’m bringing to the table.

[Jake Starr]

When I found out that my father was in the hospital, I didn't know what to do.  I was completely dumbfounded, and feeling like I was being pulled in different directions.  I was even so confused that I didn't even know how to make a simple phone call to my family to ask how he was doing at that moment after talking to my sister, or what.  All I know is that I needed to do something.  I needed to tell her, and I had done that, but what next?  What do you do when you're told that your dad is in a coma in the hospital, and nobody knows if he's going to make it?  My friend could see I was a mess inside my head, and he did he part to try and help me at least gather my belongings and at least get out of where we were.  It was a simple step.  It was a logical step.  It was what needed to be done before anything else could happen.  So I took a breath, and followed suit.  It's all I could do.  I was still in a stupor and didn't know which way was up.  I didn't know if my dad was even going to live over the next five minutes, let alone any time to get down there to see him.  I didn't know if my dad would come out of the coma and basically be a vegetable.  I didn't know anything but that I needed a shower, and I needed to leave.

So I did...

Once I was out of the shower, my mentality was a little more focused.  I was much more upset.  I was feeling the feelings of someone who would, if they found out that their dad was comatose in a hospital.  The tears were being fought, and once I got dressed and got everything assembled, I broke.  I grabbed my bags, and I just crumbled against the door in tears.  My head just fell against the door, and I wept.  I wept hard.  This was my father.  This was the man who guided me down the path I was on.  This was my hero in life.  My friend, he knew this was inevitable, and instead of trying to "save the day," he simply put his hand on my back and let the tears flow.

What felt like hours passed.  I felt like there was no more liquid inside my body to be expressed as tears.  I began to wipe the grossness off of my face, and that's when he stepped up, and actually interjected into the moment.

Thoren Holt: Jake?

.:: Jake begins to wipe the tears and snot off of his face. ::.

Jake Starr: Yeah...?

Thoren Holt: Eric just texted me...

.:: Jake looks over at Thoren, red eyes and all, confused. ::.

Jake Starr: Why?

Thoren Holt: He told me to get you to the airport, the plane, and your family, are all waiting...

.:: Jake looks surprised. ::.

Jake Starr: Seriously?

Thoren Holt: That's what it says... So would you agree we need to go?

.:: Jake nods.  Thoren pats him on the back again and grabs his bag from him. ::.

Thoren Holt: Let's go, bro... We have bigger fish to fry than just being here...

Jake Starr: Ok...

Getting out of the building was a chore in and of itself.  Everyone there knows me.  I'm someone who people will talk to.  This news, being broadcast worldwide even before I knew it, had made the rounds backstage.  As we left, I could see people looking at me.  I could see the want in their eyes to say something.  I could see the empathy as they could tell I had just broken down.  I could see that they wanted to tell me how they felt bad for me, but didn't know how to approach me.  With every glance, I felt myself wanting to walk faster.  I didn't want to seem awkward, so I did my best to simply nod at them, acknowledge I knew that they knew, and continue moving on.

Once to the car, there was no more hesitation and no more "normal speed."  Instead it was hauling ass and getting to the airport.  It was about getting to the plane, getting on board, and getting en route to my father's side.  The whole drive, I kept my eyes looking out the window.  I kept thinking if I was going to be too late, and hoping that whatever higher being existed would give me the chance to be by my father's side at least one more time.  For the bulk of my life I had never engaged in a belief in a higher power, outside of stupid comedic routines, but this was different, for me.  This was family.  This was my father.  This was different.  I could feel it inside.  I could understand why people, when faced when something of this magnitude, magically do turn to something bigger than they are for the hope that the negative can be outweighed by the positive.

We finally arrived at the airport.  We finally drove around the complex to find the hanger and FBO where our jet was waiting.  As we parked, I wasted no time jumping out of the car and grabbing my bags.  My nephew, he knew he had to stay behind to check the car in, and fly home normally, and on top of it all, knew this wasn't his trip to tag along on.

.:: As Jake slams the trunk, picks his bag up by the handles, and begins to run toward the jet, Thoren exclaims. ::.

Thoren Holt: Jake...

.:: Jake pauses and turns around, worrying he forgot something. ::.

Thoren Holt: I'm sorry, bro... All of y'all will be in my thoughts and prayers.  I know it's not my style... But this isn't an everyday type of thing... I hope you know I'm sending my best...

.:: Jake nods, and turns to continuing making his way toward the entrance to the FBO, and ultimately onto the ramp where the jet from the Golden Nugget, and his family await his arrival.  As Jake gets cleared to head to the plane, he exits onto the ramp, and literally tosses his bag at the handler, and jumps stairs to get on board quicker, almost hitting his head in the process.  As he boards, Jake sees Roeper, Mara, and Brandon, and Roeper wastes no time jumping up and running into Jake's arms and sobbing.  Mara is close behind, and Jake reaches one arm down to hug them both.  After a moment of emotion, Jake points them back to their seats, and heads up to the front of the plane to the flight attendant and pilots. ::.

Jake Starr: ... Alright, let's get out of here ASAP...

.:: Jake receives a "roger" from the cockpit, and he turns to go back into the cabin and take his seat.  The flight attendant is quick to get all of their final checks done, and closes the cabin for departure. ::.

At this point, all I knew to do is text my mom and let her know we were on our way.  I knew she'd insist we not worry, but to those of us on board, this was a moment to worry, and a moment to take seriously.  We all settled in for the flight, and all took turns talking about what we knew, didn't know, and hoped for once we landed.  As the redeye progressed through the skies, we all tried to sleep, hoping we could "timewarp" to the landing and be able to go face the reality ahead.  For my daughter, it was relatively easy, and I look back and remember days I could put everything aside and sleep.  For the rest of us, we all did our best, and caught the few moments we could and simply waited...

---------------------------------

.:: The scene opens in total darkness.  Footsteps are heard, and within the illumination of a spotlight, Jake Starr walks into frame, beginning to speak lines, not as lyrics, but as spoken word poetry. ::.

Jake Starr: You know that I've seen... Too many romantic dreams... Up in lights, fallin' off... The silver screen

My heart's like an open book... For the whole world to read... Sometimes nothing keeps me together... At the seams

I'm on my way... I'm on my way... Home sweet home...

Home sweet home...

Home sweet home...

Those words, all of them.  Think about it.  Think about what they mean.  Think about what they represent.  Think about the crescendo to the ultimate theme of what they represent... Home... Sweet... Home...

SCW has been that home for me since March of 2009.  It has been the place where, when all was crashing down around me, I could go to and know it would be there to give me a sense of normalcy.  Win, lose, or draw, SCW was always there for me.  SCW was always my "base" in an out of control game of tag.  But SCW, alone, wasn't my home.  SCW alone wasn't the place where I would walk to in order to feel a sense of solace.  No.  There was other places.  Yes, there was my house.  Yes, there was backstage interaction.  But more than anything, more than ANYWHERE, there was one place that was truly HOME to this Social Misfit...

.:: The lights come on, and behind Jake stands the demonic structure known as SCW's Chamber.  Jake runs his hands along the cage, interlocking his fingers within the fencing, smelling its odor, and slowly letting go and turning back toward the camera. ::.

... There's always been my home, inside the House of Nightmares... The true Unforgiven... The Hell of Anyone Who Set's Foot... It's this monstrosity, it's the Chamber itself.  For those of you who don't know my lineage, I'm one of those SCW lunatics of who have had match after match inside this structure, and in one case, ASKED FOR IT.  Don't remember?  You don't remember me cashing in my Trios Contract to have EVERY CHAMPION face me, one after another, inside here, putting their titles on the line against my ability to even stand.  But even before then, it was THIS STRUCTURE that gave birth to Jake Starr's World Championship aspirations.  It was Donovan Kayl, Rachel Foxx, and I who tangled, all wanting to be the one who challenged James Exeter in 2009.  So understand that this structure, this hell-house, this ender of careers, is something I consider a friend, a bunker, and a HOME!

Let's be real... Let's be DAMN REAL... Everyone else in this locker room looks at this and fears how they will feel coming out.  They fear the toll it will take on their body, and the risk that it could have to their careers in the long run.  I, on the other hand, have been walking into this cage for over a decade, time after time, and done things that nobody every expected me to do.  I've walked out with opportunities and I've walked out with titles, but in the end, I HAVE WALKED OUT!  I've done so because I've never let this structure intimidate me.  I've never let it be the SUPREME being of me.  Instead, I've walked into it and respected it, and embraced its power and potential.  I've allowed it to be EXACTLY what it is, and allowed myself to submit myself to whatever it has to dish out.

I don't run from it...

I don't fear it...

I allow it to be what it is, and become ONE with the destruction that it holds...

That's why I called out every champion at once.  That is why I gave them the advantage of being able to beat me down, one after another.  It wasn't a simple gauntlet.  It was the ULTIMATE gauntlet.  It was every champion cheering the previous on, HOPING they would destroy me just a little more than the one before them.  Everyone wanted me to be beaten down.  It became about EMBARASSING Jake Starr, and not necessarily "beating" him.  Beating me, using the Chamber to their advantage, became more plausible as more and more combatants came out.  But truly showing me I was DUMB and STUPID for calling them all out was the goal.  Everyone wanted to make sure that Jake Starr walked away humbled.

Instead, Jake Starr walked away World Champion... And with Rachel and Donovan... Jake Starr walked away the man who would ultimate dethrone James Exeter in his most important title reign of his career.  Now... It represents an opportunity, again.  It's 2009, all over again.  It's the underdog, in Jake Starr, against a group of the most polished, perfected, and accomplished stars in modern SCW.  It's something I haven't faced since I had all of the champions staring me down, but this time, one pinfall means nothing.  One submission means nothing.  It's not one on one, after another, after another.  There's a chance it could become one giant clusterfuck, and I can promise that between Peyton Rice, Christy Matthews, Kandis, Aaron Blackbourne, and Crystal Zdunich, it's going to eventually turn into one of those matches where fans are yanking their hair out because nobody will know what is going on, or who is about to do what.

.:: Jake smirks. ::.

And I can't wait!

You see, this conglomeration of opposition tells me a lot.  It gets me excited.  Not because there are some women, one questionable, and one talented guy besides myself, but because I know what these people bring to the table.  For once in life, I've kept my eye on those I may not have crossed paths with, along with those I have.  And let's be real... One of these bitches, and one that hasn't gotten her full transition to male completed yet, have a bit of history.  It's why I know Christy and Peyton will be wanting this win in their column because then they will get to PICK and CHOOSE what title they want.  They won't have to work to try and win and/or regain championships.  Instead, they can just do what I was criticized for way back when, and just demand it.  They can continue their little personal quests of trying to be the "everything" champion, whether it's by themselves, or while stroking the egos of others.  In the end, these two are part of the biggest problem SCW has ever has, and that's those dickheads who want to have every title under one banner.  I used to be the same.  Hell when I challenged every champion inside the Chamber, I effectively did the same.  But I did it for the challenge.  I did it to test myself.  These others do it because they just want to cutoff everyone else from having a chance.

So when it comes to those two broads... EAT A BAG OF DICK!

That's right... I said it... You two cunts are part of the problem in SCW, and you're walking into something I consider my home away from home.  I've heard Peyton run her mouth, already, multiple times and let me tell you, if her shit talking is any inclination of what fans, and me as well, should be ready to expect, it could be expressed in a few emojis, and fit into a tweet.  Her bullshit is that shallow.  She wants to redeem losing because she's a giant titty baby, and can't handle the fact that she's not the greatest "insert whatever accolade here she's trying to prove herself to be" here.  Instead, she's just someone who falls into one of those categories many of us get tired of having to deal with.  And that's why she's ONE of those I will personally make it my goal to vanquish inside MY HOME.  Not the Chamber.  Not the demonic structure.  MY HOUSE.  THE HOUSE THAT JAKE STARR MADE... INFAMOUS!

Now the truth be told, these two shitbags aren't the only ones in this match.  They're not the only ones with a chance at winning.  They're not the only ones who I have to focus on.  But if I went on about every single person, if I picked everyone apart, what would that sound like?  It'd sound like a record on skip.  You'd see a beginning, a middle, and an ending for each opponent.  But because I'm not dissecting Aaron, Kandis, and Crystal, I'm still keeping a firm eye on them and what they bring to the table.  I'm going back and trying to find every iota of information I can to prepare myself for the trio that I may not be as familiar with, as the other two.  Why?  Why am I giving them credibility without running them through the ringer like the two outcasts from Ab-Fab?  It's because they haven't had moments where they took opportunities and titles from me.  They haven't crossed the line with me where they deserve to have their faces shoved into an elephant's bunghole.  But they deserve the respect to know they're on my radar.  They deserve to know I'm not writing ANY of them off.

How could I?

How could I write ANYONE off?

This structure makes and breaks bones just as easily as it does careers.  I was the underdog walking in, in 2009, hearing everyone tell me I didn't have a chance.  I promise, right now, amidst this level of competition, that feeling is the same.  Nobody believes I'm worthy.  Nobody believes I can overcome the odds.  Everyone thinks it'll be the odds on, and obviously already mouthy "favorite," Peyton Rice, simply because she's established herself as almost unbeatable.  But the key there, is ALMOST.  I don't care how much she talks, I don't care what Christy Matthews word-vomits all over everyone listening to her crap, and honestly I don't care what is said by either of the remaining three.  Why?  Because they're just words.  They're hollow.  They mean nothing.  You walk inside MY CHAMBER, you officially become an equal to everyone, no matter what odds are in your favor.  You become a mortal.  You don't bring with you long winning streaks, instead you simply have to bring a will to live.

.:: Jake turns back and looks at the structure one more time, running his hands over the cold metal, and putting his forehead against it.  He continues to speak with his back to the camera. ::.

My will, it won't be broken.  My ability to survive in the depths of hell will not be curtailed.  This is what made me a name in SCW, and subsequently a legend in the minds of the masses.  Now, it becomes where step back in time physically, and use the memories of the present, to do the unthinkable once again...

.:: As the scene fades to black, this time instead of spoken word, Jake begins to sing softly. ::.

I'm on my way...

Just set me free...

Home... Sweet... Home...

---------------------------------

Using the phrase, "an eternity" can't even begin to describe how it felt waiting on that plane ride to finally come to an end in Austin.  Several times the pilot would call back to my chair and let me know they were trying to get diverted to a faster course, succeeding most of the time, but it was still as if every passing second lasted an hour.  Eventually, everyone but me was able to at least get some semblance of sleep.  Nobody felt recharged, but everyone knew they needed something.  I, on the other hand, my adrenaline was on high.  I couldn't stop my brain.

What if I was too late?

What if we land, and I get a text or voicemail that he's gone?

There was no beating around the bush with my brain.  It was the worst case scenario, or nothing.  But nevertheless, we did arrive in good time.  On the ramp, awaiting our arrival, was a vehicle and driver who knew simply to retrieve us, and get us all to the hospital as soon as possible.  He didn't know why, nor did he care, he just knew he was being paid well for one simple trip.  As the plane came to a halt, I woke my daughter up, and told her to grab her stuff.  While we gathered our stuff on board, the attendants began loading our bags into the vehicle.  Once we were all in, the driver wasted no time making his way to the hospital.

The car ride was a silent as it could have been.  The only noises were a faint song being played on the radio, and the sound of the road beneath the tires.  My eyes faced forward the whole time, stoic, and focused.  As we got close, I texted my mom and let her know, and she said she'd meet us down at the entrance and get us in to see my father, and that's exactly what happened.

.:: As the group arrive outside the hospital, Jake's mother stands waiting for them.  As everyone unpacks, Jake and his mother embrace.  She apologizes profusely, feeling as if she is inconveniencing her son, but Jake is having none of it.  She tells everyone she's going to take Jake in real quick, and then come get everyone else.  Jake's mom explains who Jake is, and why she is taking him back into ICU, and Jake is let back.

Jake walk past several patients, and can see on a door they're approaching "Starr, Jeff" on the label.  He walks in front of the window, peering into the room and sees his dad hooked up to many machines, and unconscious.  He freezes and just stares.  His mom puts her hand on his shoulder. ::.

Denise Starr: Jake... He needs to hear from you... He needs to know you're here...

Jake Starr: What do I even say?

Denise Starr: Whatever you feel... He'd want to hear you be genuine with him.  He wouldn't want you to be something or someone you're not...

.:: Jake sighs, and nods. ::.

Denise Starr: I'll go help everyone with their stuff... You talk with him...

.:: Jake simply nods again, and slowly approaches the door to his father's room.  The sound of the machines beeping, and the oxygen machine breathing for him is all Jake can hear.  He walks in, one silent step at a time, before finally breaking the effective silence with a call to his father. ::.

Jake Starr: Umm... Hey Dad... This feels, wrong... It feels like you're being punished for my deeds and this is somehow supposed to make me feel even more guilty... I mean, we've been in this situation before.  The roles were reversed, but we were here, just like this, where I was the one in the bed, and you were the one talking to me.  I guess, maybe, it also tells me that if this is the same situation, I know you can hear me.  I could always hear you, but I couldn't respond.  So I'm hoping that's the case...

.:: Jake goes and sits in a chair by the bed. ::.

Jake Starr: You know... When I got the message about you being here, I was completely stunned.  I was more blindsided than I was about anything else, maybe outside of learning about Jordan.  And speaking of Jordan, I felt it was right to make sure she knew what had happened.  I don't know if she will do anything about it or not, or if she even cared, but I think this is something she deserves to be in the loop about.  I don't know y'alls story, nor am I going to get involved, bur it just felt like the right move...

.:: Jake begins to get a little choked up. ::.

Jake Starr: Dad... None of us know how serious this is for you.  We have all been told to just wait it out.  But you're about to have your granddaughter here by your side as well, and if she's not enough strength to pull through, I don't know what is.  Personally... I can feel you fighting.  I think we may have our roles reversed here, but I think we both felt one another's fight to get better.  I don't know what effects this will have on you...

It was at this moment things began to get hectic.  First I was distracted by something in the hallway, and then the machines surrounding my dad all began to go off at once.  I quickly stood up, and froze.  I then ran out of his room and before I could say anything, I'm hearing phrases like "get the cart," and "BP is dropping fast."  I stared blankly, not realizing the severity of what I was watching, and as I did so, Mara runs up beside me and turns to see the melee going on as a team begins to try and stabilize and get him back to where he was.  I push Mara toward Brandon and he gets her out so she doesn't see anything, and I have to hold my mom back from running in to his room as well.  We, again, were powerless to do anything but watch, and that's what we did, as I tried my best to stay strong and show the same amount of emotion as my dad would have if the roles were reversed.

[Kandis.]

OOC: Good luck everyone!
---------------------------



Under Attack 2020 #2

[Peyton Rice]

OOC: It’s Been a Blast, had a lot to cover since RTG and now I am up to date with current events. Good Luck Everyone… but not too much, Enjoy.

Part Three of Three.




Anything with the “REC” on it is Viewable to the Public.

The Views Expressed By Peyton Rice Do Not Reflect Those of the Publisher. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

A LONG ROAD TO GET THERE:
CHAPTER THREE

(Click Title)