Post by Silas SUBHUMAN on Oct 20, 2016 2:17:12 GMT -5
SUNDAY OCTOBER 16
LONG BEACH, CA
Silas came awake silently, easily, without fuss.
He lay still for several minutes, flat on his back with his hands folded atop his stomach, staring up at the darkened ceiling. After a time he took a deep breath and rolled over to look at his alarm clock, only to be blinded by the harsh red glare in the otherwise-dark bedroom. Shielding his eyes with one arm, he reached out with the other to dim the display. His hand fumbled across the nightstand, bumping past a half-full handle of whiskey, a charging cellphone, and an empty take-out container before finally finding what it sought.
Si lowered his arm from his eyes slowly, squinting at the display - 6:13 AM, it read - and heaved another sigh before sitting up. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and remained there for a minute, hunched over, head cradled in his hands, fingers kneading his temples.
It was storming outside. Rain assaulted the windowpane across from him. Silas at last stood up, wincing as his joints went off like a string of firecrackers, and as he circled around the bed to the bathroom a bolt of lightning lit up the room, briefly drawing his eye to the curled-up form still slumbering beneath his sheets. She rolled over at the subsequent thunderclap, mumbling something unintelligible in her sleep, but he ignored her and continued into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
He turned the shower on first and then the light, squinting as he did so. He then stared at himself in the mirror, regarding his reflection's disheveled hair, gaunt face, and sunken eyes until they were lost to the building steam, at which point he sank down the wall opposite the vanity to sit cross-legged at its base.
He closed his eyes and began breathing deeply, taking in as much of the hot vapor as his throat and lungs would allow. He felt something in his chest begin to loosen, grow heavier, and a moment later he was doubled over, bringing a hand to his mouth as a wet, jagged coughing fit took him. Silas forced it to continue, ignoring pain and breathlessness until it felt like his chest had cleared, and he pulled his hand away to see it flecked with small droplets of blood.
There was a knock at the bathroom door, followed by a voice from the other side: "Si?"
He rubbed his hands together as the knob turned and the door opened, smearing the small amount of blood into something unrecognizable and looking up at her as she peeked her head in. "You're up."
"Are you okay? I heard you coughing."
"Fine." SUBHUMAN refocused on the tile floor in front of him. "Right as rain."
Remaining behind the door, she kneels down to get eye level. Silas's lip wanted to curl at what she was wearing - one of his oversized band t-shirts, with holes and illegible writing on the front - but suppressed it.
"What time does your flight leave?" she asked, studying him.
"Eleven," he said, refusing to meet her gaze.
"Hm." Gretchen brings her knees up to her chest, resting her chin atop them, and still only speaking through the small opening. "You should come back to bed, get some more rest. You have time."
"Nah, not necessary."
She went silent for a moment, peering intently at him. "Why the hell are you up so early, anyway?"
"Storm.. and because I'm still dealing with what my body is doing as a result of that last fight, that triple threat. Nothing I haven't felt before, obviously, just fuckin' sore.. Then for some reason, It seems like it's been taking me half the day to actually wake up. I've just been out of it - need to refocus. So, I figured it best."
Another pause, but this one much longer. "What about this next one? Shit.. it's only a couple days away now."
"It's a tag match.. Should be fine," Silas followed, barely audible through the torrential onslaught. "Not stoked on being paired with someone random, coming off a loss, you know? But, it happens.. If he can do what a partner is suppose to? We should be able to walk away in pretty good shape. Course, I'm prepared for the worst.."
Gretchen expected this type of generic response and throws a middle finger at him through the slit in the door. "Alright shithead.. I'll make you some coffee."
_______________________________
OCTOBER 20
OKC
OCTOBER 20
OKC
Cut in from black. Silas SUBHUMAN, identifiable as such only by his silhouette, is seated in a steel chair with one leg crossed over the other. The surrounding space is dark save for a lone overhead bulb; it shines from above and behind Silas, framing him in light while obscuring his face in shadow. Parodying the days of old.
"Redemption Wrestling would appear to be in full swing.. Interesting shit is happening, and will continue to happen as everyone relentlessly claws their way to the top.. For Glory, I'm just looking to perform.. See what we can do about putting on the gnarliest scrap on the fucking card. My opponents?"
Si leans forward, the shadows in his face deepening..
"Don't reaaally have anything bad to say about you."
He covers his mouth and laughs under his breath when it cuts out.
