Martin Karloff- Processing

Martin Karloff sits on the couch, his stepson Jacques asleep soundly on his lap leaning on his chest. He presses pause on the episode of Masters of Horror he was watching and picks Jacques up, carrying him up to his room and laying him in bed and tucking him in. Martin starts to go in the direction of the room he shares with his wife Xaria, but his cell phone rings. It was the orphanage just outside of New York. Martin was raised there and after finding success in adulthood he used his own money to keep the place going.

“Hello?” Martin says, He listens to the woman who practically raised him on the other end.

“Hello Sister O'Haire I....oh. Yes. Yes we met up recently and talked. No she seemed to be doing fine and...what? No no no no that's not...” Martin says. Richelle. The girl that was essentially his sister. She seemed okay when they last spoke.

“How?” Martin asks. He puts his hand over his mouth as he waits and listens. One shot to the head. Self-inflicted.

“Well...thank you for calling me, Sister O'Haire... I... please inform me when details about the funeral are solidified. Thank you. Goodbye.” Martin says, quickly hanging up. He puts his hand to his face and he allows himself to cry.








Martin sits in front of the camera. No make-up. No horror movie props.

“How many strangers do you greet with a lie everyday?” Martin asks.

“Do you go over every lie in the morning to be sure you have them all straight?” He follows up with.

“How many of these lies are excuses?”

“How many of these lies are just a way to quickly end a conversation?”

“How many of these lies are accompanied by a smile?”

“How many of you say you're fine?”

“How many of you aren't fine?”

“How many times have you said you're fine and not meant it?”

“How many times a year do you leave your home in a mask?”

“Everyday?” Martin asks as he takes out a mask. It's clear but has a smile on the mouth so putting it on his face makes it seem like he's smiling.

“How many people close to you think that mask is your real face?”

“How many people do you lie to just by smiling?”

“Greet the morning with a smile. It's another fine morning.” Martin says. It's very quiet for a few moments before he takes off the mask and tosses it aside.

“Last time I saw her she smiled at me. She told me she was fine.” Martin says simply. Another long pause.

“I'm dedicating my match this week to Richelle Mott. All my money earned tonight on the match and merchandise sales will be going to her funeral. I will give you as much fight as I can, Caroline. I certainly hope I have enough.” Martin says.

-END-


(OOC Sidenote: Working through some personal stuff with this one. Lost somebody)