Post by Lachlan Kane on Sept 8, 2023 22:45:14 GMT -5
Night 4 of the Bravery Trials
Following the Main Event…
As he climbed to the deck of the aircraft carrier with the rest of the roster, Lachlan couldn’t tear his eyes away from the scene. The skies were roiling with black clouds that would periodically shoot out bolts of lightning accompanied by deafening claps of thunder. The water underneath the carrier was churning so hard that it was sloshing up onto the deck, soaking everyone on board.
When the storm abruptly faded away and the fog began rolling in, he found himself being pulled along towards the railing of the ship, watching as the massive form of the HMS Atalanta materialized out of the fog. Every hair on the back of his neck was standing straight up, there were goosebumps over every part of his skin, and a chill shot straight up his spine.
But then…he felt him slither out from the corners of his mind. His Dark Passenger, once an entity he shared an uneasy alliance with, now a seemingly malevolent force with his own agenda that awoke with a vengeance the closer the Trials moved towards the Bermuda Triangle.
And now that they were staring down the ghost ship that supposedly held an artifact of unimaginable supernatural power, he could feel the passenger practically frothing at the mouth. It was taking every last ounce of Lachlan’s inner strength to keep the beast at bay, so to speak - which was becoming increasingly difficult the closer the ship came to the aircraft carrier.
With the deck now deserted of everyone save for the rest of the roster and the three team leaders who were all staring down the ghost ship with varying degrees of excitement and/or trepidation, Lachlan took the opportunity to slink away into the bowels of the ship unnoticed. He heaved open a heavy steel door that led to a storage room and stepped inside, slamming the door tightly behind him. He just needed a moment to collect himself…
Oh, it’s far too late for that, my boy.
He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, feeling a sharp pain radiate through his skull from temple to temple. Leaning back against the cool metal wall, he sank down until he was crouched in between two wooden crates and laid his head on his knees. “I don’t want to do this anymore. Please, just let me get through the rest of these Trials.”
Yes, because you’ve performed so admirably thus far. He could practically feel the condescension and disdain dripping from the inner voice. You haven’t even won a single match in this entire tournament. And it’s all because of your damned stubborn pride. Your laughable “morals” and “decency” are going to get you killed on that ship.
He shook his head vehemently. “You’re wrong. You’re wrong.”
Am I? You know, if it weren’t for me, that rescue mission of Knox and Cortes would probably have ended quite differently…
The images flashed in his mind rapid-fire…breaking into the compound…tearing through wave after wave of militant protestors that threw themselves in his wake…feeling the rage overtake his body as he broke limbs and hurled bodies…the blood that covered him as the four made their daring escape to the aircraft carrier…
Or perhaps Miss Plimmswood may not be the delightful young woman you’ve come to know over these past few months. I have it on good authority that she attracted the attention of a number of my friends when she had her little party…
The seance…breaking down the solid steel door with unnatural strength…that dark, twisted feeling he got stepping into the room and seeing Penelope’s lifeless body on the ground…the ritual that Mary Jane performed to pull whatever darkness was in Penelope and send it back into the small metal piece…
A shudder crawled its way through his body as Lachlan bolted upright, pacing the floor with his hands balled into tight fists at his sides. He felt warm, wet rivulets running out of his palms, and when he glanced to the floor he could see the telltale crimson droplets littering the floor. His teeth clenched together so tightly he wondered how they were intact, as he growled his words. “I will not give in to you. In fact, I have half a mind to track down Mary Jane and see if she knows some way to evict you once and for all!”
The laughter in his head was cold and cruel. Boy, you have no idea. Mary Jane knows who I am, what I am capable of. You heard her yourself at the seance. ‘An aura blacker than midnight’. You and I are far too tangled to ever be pulled apart, young Lachlan. Miss Plimmswood has been trying to tell you this entire time. She’s a very smart woman. You should really heed her advice.
He paced again, his steps short and controlled. “I won’t. I won’t. I won’t…”
I will give you credit, you are a resilient little human. Most of the other hosts I’ve inhabited fell quite quickly to my…charms. But you stay stubbornly resistant. But you will submit to me, one way or another.
“No. No. No. No…No.” He was getting frantic now, his blue eyes wild with fear.
This can all come to an end, you know. The anxiety, the fear, the weakness. All you have to do is…
Let.
Me.
In.
He brought his hands up to his head, squeezing and clawing at his hair as he let out a guttural yell that reverberated off the steel panels of the room. As his voice grew hoarse and his throat went raw, he sank back down onto his knees. His hands slid down his face, leaving twin trails of blood in their wake down his forehead, over his eyes and continuing on his cheeks into his beard. He was quiet and still for a moment, his breathing laboured as his chest heaved with the effort.
But then, his eyes shot open. Instead of their usual bright blue, the irises were coloured a deep, dark crimson. The whites were now pitch black, and a sinister smile crept its way across his face. It was this change that indicated that Lachlan no longer held control, but rather his dark passenger had overtaken the Irishman.
“You see how much better you feel now? No more aches and pains? You feel like you could just…rip everything apart? This is the Lachlan that people need to see. Without me, you’re nothing more than an afterthought. Not only in this tournament, but in the whole of professional wrestling. If you truly want to break out and get the respect and glory you so desire, then I can make that happen.”
A dark chuckle escaped his lips. “But I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I? We have a bit of business to handle first. Namely, these pesky little Trials that these humans have concocted in a vain effort to claim the Triad piece. I admit, watching this all unravel over the course of these last few weeks has been entertaining, to say the least…but now, things have gotten much more serious. These humans have no idea of what they’re getting themselves into. Sure, they’ve read the legends, and they may think they have the situation under control. But the HMS Atalanta is no ordinary ship.”
He paused for a moment, a sly smirk appearing on his face. “But I don’t want to be a spoilsport. You’ve all worked so hard to get here that it would be such a shame to let it all go to waste now. I will say this, however…you’re all in for a killer time.”
The laugh that echoed in the chamber was dark and sinister, but it was abruptly cut short. “But before we get to that fun, there’s another little obstacle in the way. Namely, this opening match where my poor defeated vessel will go up against two of the other losers from this tournament. Three men who have yet to score a single victory in this entire tournament.” His mouth turned down into an exaggerated frown. “A true underdog story for the ages. It’s practically Oscar-worthy. Which lovable loser will come out on top?” The frown turned back into the unnerving grin, flashing white teeth. “Well, I think we can all take a guess, can’t we? After all, Lachlan may not have a win, but he’s certainly done better than the other two in this match. And with me finally in control, the other two haven’t a hope in the world of getting through this match alive.”
A few paces across the floor as his arms folded across his chest. “Merica. An individual more pathetic than the country he so vehemently defends. Even your own personal cheerleader abandoned you in your hour of need. Not that he was of much use to you anyways. I sincerely doubt you can count on having him in your corner on this ship, but even if he does happen to show up, it won’t be enough to change your fate. I don’t have any personal problem with you per se, so I will allow you to slink away without being the one to take the pinfall in this match.”
His face twisted into a sinister sneer, the red of his eyes flashing dangerously. “And then we come to Mister Raven. You’ve been something of a thorn in my side since the beginning of this little tournament. Though I do take some pleasure in the fact that you’ve seemingly done more poorly than I have. But I swear to you that it all ends on that ship. I will beat you and break you until you are nothing more than a red stain on the canvas. And then, I will finally put you out of my misery for good, and leave you in the past where you belong.”
The sneer fell away from his face, replaced with a look of complete and utter disdain. “I have no interest in any of this team nonsense. I have only played along as it’s been quite amusing to witness all of this drama unfolding. Not to mention, the accommodations at the Hotel California have been nothing short of wonderful. My regards, Miss Plimmswood.” A small wink and a charming grin. “But the games come to an end on the 10th. It doesn’t matter that I’m not the frontrunner in this little charade the humans have concocted. The Triad piece will be mine, no matter what. An artifact of that power does not belong in the filthy hands of mere mortals. It can only be claimed by those with the knowledge and skill to wield its true power.”
As he spoke, his skin began to swirl and darken with inky blackness, starting in his hands and curling up his arms. It disappeared under the sleeves of his shirt, emerging at his neck until it swallowed up his entire face, leaving only the scarlet glow of those haunting eyes and the white of his deranged smile.
“And I will be the one to show you that power.”
Following the Main Event…
As he climbed to the deck of the aircraft carrier with the rest of the roster, Lachlan couldn’t tear his eyes away from the scene. The skies were roiling with black clouds that would periodically shoot out bolts of lightning accompanied by deafening claps of thunder. The water underneath the carrier was churning so hard that it was sloshing up onto the deck, soaking everyone on board.
When the storm abruptly faded away and the fog began rolling in, he found himself being pulled along towards the railing of the ship, watching as the massive form of the HMS Atalanta materialized out of the fog. Every hair on the back of his neck was standing straight up, there were goosebumps over every part of his skin, and a chill shot straight up his spine.
But then…he felt him slither out from the corners of his mind. His Dark Passenger, once an entity he shared an uneasy alliance with, now a seemingly malevolent force with his own agenda that awoke with a vengeance the closer the Trials moved towards the Bermuda Triangle.
And now that they were staring down the ghost ship that supposedly held an artifact of unimaginable supernatural power, he could feel the passenger practically frothing at the mouth. It was taking every last ounce of Lachlan’s inner strength to keep the beast at bay, so to speak - which was becoming increasingly difficult the closer the ship came to the aircraft carrier.
With the deck now deserted of everyone save for the rest of the roster and the three team leaders who were all staring down the ghost ship with varying degrees of excitement and/or trepidation, Lachlan took the opportunity to slink away into the bowels of the ship unnoticed. He heaved open a heavy steel door that led to a storage room and stepped inside, slamming the door tightly behind him. He just needed a moment to collect himself…
Oh, it’s far too late for that, my boy.
He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, feeling a sharp pain radiate through his skull from temple to temple. Leaning back against the cool metal wall, he sank down until he was crouched in between two wooden crates and laid his head on his knees. “I don’t want to do this anymore. Please, just let me get through the rest of these Trials.”
Yes, because you’ve performed so admirably thus far. He could practically feel the condescension and disdain dripping from the inner voice. You haven’t even won a single match in this entire tournament. And it’s all because of your damned stubborn pride. Your laughable “morals” and “decency” are going to get you killed on that ship.
He shook his head vehemently. “You’re wrong. You’re wrong.”
Am I? You know, if it weren’t for me, that rescue mission of Knox and Cortes would probably have ended quite differently…
The images flashed in his mind rapid-fire…breaking into the compound…tearing through wave after wave of militant protestors that threw themselves in his wake…feeling the rage overtake his body as he broke limbs and hurled bodies…the blood that covered him as the four made their daring escape to the aircraft carrier…
Or perhaps Miss Plimmswood may not be the delightful young woman you’ve come to know over these past few months. I have it on good authority that she attracted the attention of a number of my friends when she had her little party…
The seance…breaking down the solid steel door with unnatural strength…that dark, twisted feeling he got stepping into the room and seeing Penelope’s lifeless body on the ground…the ritual that Mary Jane performed to pull whatever darkness was in Penelope and send it back into the small metal piece…
A shudder crawled its way through his body as Lachlan bolted upright, pacing the floor with his hands balled into tight fists at his sides. He felt warm, wet rivulets running out of his palms, and when he glanced to the floor he could see the telltale crimson droplets littering the floor. His teeth clenched together so tightly he wondered how they were intact, as he growled his words. “I will not give in to you. In fact, I have half a mind to track down Mary Jane and see if she knows some way to evict you once and for all!”
The laughter in his head was cold and cruel. Boy, you have no idea. Mary Jane knows who I am, what I am capable of. You heard her yourself at the seance. ‘An aura blacker than midnight’. You and I are far too tangled to ever be pulled apart, young Lachlan. Miss Plimmswood has been trying to tell you this entire time. She’s a very smart woman. You should really heed her advice.
He paced again, his steps short and controlled. “I won’t. I won’t. I won’t…”
I will give you credit, you are a resilient little human. Most of the other hosts I’ve inhabited fell quite quickly to my…charms. But you stay stubbornly resistant. But you will submit to me, one way or another.
“No. No. No. No…No.” He was getting frantic now, his blue eyes wild with fear.
This can all come to an end, you know. The anxiety, the fear, the weakness. All you have to do is…
Let.
Me.
In.
He brought his hands up to his head, squeezing and clawing at his hair as he let out a guttural yell that reverberated off the steel panels of the room. As his voice grew hoarse and his throat went raw, he sank back down onto his knees. His hands slid down his face, leaving twin trails of blood in their wake down his forehead, over his eyes and continuing on his cheeks into his beard. He was quiet and still for a moment, his breathing laboured as his chest heaved with the effort.
But then, his eyes shot open. Instead of their usual bright blue, the irises were coloured a deep, dark crimson. The whites were now pitch black, and a sinister smile crept its way across his face. It was this change that indicated that Lachlan no longer held control, but rather his dark passenger had overtaken the Irishman.
“You see how much better you feel now? No more aches and pains? You feel like you could just…rip everything apart? This is the Lachlan that people need to see. Without me, you’re nothing more than an afterthought. Not only in this tournament, but in the whole of professional wrestling. If you truly want to break out and get the respect and glory you so desire, then I can make that happen.”
A dark chuckle escaped his lips. “But I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I? We have a bit of business to handle first. Namely, these pesky little Trials that these humans have concocted in a vain effort to claim the Triad piece. I admit, watching this all unravel over the course of these last few weeks has been entertaining, to say the least…but now, things have gotten much more serious. These humans have no idea of what they’re getting themselves into. Sure, they’ve read the legends, and they may think they have the situation under control. But the HMS Atalanta is no ordinary ship.”
He paused for a moment, a sly smirk appearing on his face. “But I don’t want to be a spoilsport. You’ve all worked so hard to get here that it would be such a shame to let it all go to waste now. I will say this, however…you’re all in for a killer time.”
The laugh that echoed in the chamber was dark and sinister, but it was abruptly cut short. “But before we get to that fun, there’s another little obstacle in the way. Namely, this opening match where my poor defeated vessel will go up against two of the other losers from this tournament. Three men who have yet to score a single victory in this entire tournament.” His mouth turned down into an exaggerated frown. “A true underdog story for the ages. It’s practically Oscar-worthy. Which lovable loser will come out on top?” The frown turned back into the unnerving grin, flashing white teeth. “Well, I think we can all take a guess, can’t we? After all, Lachlan may not have a win, but he’s certainly done better than the other two in this match. And with me finally in control, the other two haven’t a hope in the world of getting through this match alive.”
A few paces across the floor as his arms folded across his chest. “Merica. An individual more pathetic than the country he so vehemently defends. Even your own personal cheerleader abandoned you in your hour of need. Not that he was of much use to you anyways. I sincerely doubt you can count on having him in your corner on this ship, but even if he does happen to show up, it won’t be enough to change your fate. I don’t have any personal problem with you per se, so I will allow you to slink away without being the one to take the pinfall in this match.”
His face twisted into a sinister sneer, the red of his eyes flashing dangerously. “And then we come to Mister Raven. You’ve been something of a thorn in my side since the beginning of this little tournament. Though I do take some pleasure in the fact that you’ve seemingly done more poorly than I have. But I swear to you that it all ends on that ship. I will beat you and break you until you are nothing more than a red stain on the canvas. And then, I will finally put you out of my misery for good, and leave you in the past where you belong.”
The sneer fell away from his face, replaced with a look of complete and utter disdain. “I have no interest in any of this team nonsense. I have only played along as it’s been quite amusing to witness all of this drama unfolding. Not to mention, the accommodations at the Hotel California have been nothing short of wonderful. My regards, Miss Plimmswood.” A small wink and a charming grin. “But the games come to an end on the 10th. It doesn’t matter that I’m not the frontrunner in this little charade the humans have concocted. The Triad piece will be mine, no matter what. An artifact of that power does not belong in the filthy hands of mere mortals. It can only be claimed by those with the knowledge and skill to wield its true power.”
As he spoke, his skin began to swirl and darken with inky blackness, starting in his hands and curling up his arms. It disappeared under the sleeves of his shirt, emerging at his neck until it swallowed up his entire face, leaving only the scarlet glow of those haunting eyes and the white of his deranged smile.
“And I will be the one to show you that power.”