Post by Michael "Thunder" Knight on Aug 14, 2007 23:11:15 GMT -5
At this point, Michael was wishing that life had a little reset button that you could press when you started having problems. More than ever before, he wanted to go back in time.
It didn’t have to do with Stacy at all. He had still yet to hear about her accident and thus was still in the position of “I couldn’t care less about her.” No, she, at least at this point, did matter. It was someone else, the man who unbeknownst to Michael and everyone else for that matter was the cause of Stacy’s accident.
It was Robert Clark.
Michael wished so badly that he could somehow change what he did that after he gave Stacy a pretty big piece of his mind on the phone. That part was perfect, beautiful even, but everything after that is what bothered him. It was that meeting with Robert that he wanted to change.
He wanted to change it so that he never came into contact with him. He was nice enough then, in fact he seemed to be one of the best people he’d ever met. Michael had always had so few friends (who was he kidding, almost no friends at all) partly because he believed no one could understand him. But Robert seemed to relate to Michael in so many ways. They could shoot the bull for the seemingly hours on end. Michael was always in a good mood when Robert was with him.
But that all changed that one night.
It was almost as if those few seconds when Robert transformed before Michael’s very eyes was burned into his mind forever. When he was actually able to fall asleep at night, all he saw was that look on Robert’s face, the look of a psychopath and that glimmer of silver. Gone was the man who he drank with and talked about sports. Replaced was someone who looked as sadistic as Norman Bates once his mommy completely took over. It was all so brief, but it left a scar deeper than any hardcore match through barbed wire ever could.
Now he just that he had never met Robert because even if he tried to avoid him for the rest of his days, he couldn’t get over the paranoid feeling that Robert could still come after him. Sure, something, whatever it may have been, stopped him from slashing Michael’s throat, but if Robert was crazy enough to be carrying around a knife to begin with (and almost used it), what would stop him later? Michael knew that psychopaths, especially ones that carry knives around with them for God knows what reason, are completely unpredictable. But unless there was a miraculous operation invented where eyes could be put in the back of your head, Michael would just have to look over his shoulder the rest of his life. Paranoia isn’t exactly fun, but it sure was a lot better than being caught off guard with a knife to the chest.
He sat on his black leather couch, trying to get his mind off what happened with Robert, but of course that wasn’t going to happen. It was just his luck that with such a big match at Tribulation, something like this would ruin his life at least temporarily. But apparently, that’s what a near death experience will do to you (as Stacy would certainly find out if she ever woke up).
But still, he was able to think, at least a little about the match in the midst of all of this mental chaos. There were a few things he was absolutely certain of. In the end, he couldn’t trust his partners that much. He had never trusted anyone in GWC so far with the exception of his protégé Xavier, and he had no real plans to start now. Talan Trenor only cemented this for him when he turned on GWC and joined EPW. Anyone, anyone at all could stab you in the back (just like Robert could do with that knife) even if they are on your team. Michael didn’t doubt for one second that Kid Alpha, Brian Wolf, and Creeping Death would love to be Tapout Champion, and what a better way to prove you want a shot then putting the champion out, whether or not he’s on your team? Michael was prepared to take out all of four of his opponents if he had to.
Oh, and what opponents they were. Kevin Hardaway, the guy he disposed of already. No threat to him there. David Alastair, someone who admittedly had his number in the past, and finally Michael was getting another shot at him. He had only gotten one shot at Reckless Jack before, and that was in a brutal hardcore match where they never faced off. Michael truly hoped that he would face off with him during the match, and the same held true with Joe Ragnal. But he wasn’t worried about that, or anything else for that matter.
Except for the possibly being killed by the psycho guy part of his life.
Michael had drifted off to sleep when he woke up at the sound of the phone ringing. Fumbling around, he found it and looked it at the caller ID, shocked at who it was.
Stacy’s father.
For a second he wondered why he’d be calling, but then it was obvious. He was going to tell Michael how he ruined his daughter’s life and nonsense like that. Well there was no way he was putting up with that. He closed his eyes and let the phone ring on. Eventually, it stopped and these words were left on the phone.
ONE MISSED CALL.
And what an important call it was…
[/left]It didn’t have to do with Stacy at all. He had still yet to hear about her accident and thus was still in the position of “I couldn’t care less about her.” No, she, at least at this point, did matter. It was someone else, the man who unbeknownst to Michael and everyone else for that matter was the cause of Stacy’s accident.
It was Robert Clark.
Michael wished so badly that he could somehow change what he did that after he gave Stacy a pretty big piece of his mind on the phone. That part was perfect, beautiful even, but everything after that is what bothered him. It was that meeting with Robert that he wanted to change.
He wanted to change it so that he never came into contact with him. He was nice enough then, in fact he seemed to be one of the best people he’d ever met. Michael had always had so few friends (who was he kidding, almost no friends at all) partly because he believed no one could understand him. But Robert seemed to relate to Michael in so many ways. They could shoot the bull for the seemingly hours on end. Michael was always in a good mood when Robert was with him.
But that all changed that one night.
It was almost as if those few seconds when Robert transformed before Michael’s very eyes was burned into his mind forever. When he was actually able to fall asleep at night, all he saw was that look on Robert’s face, the look of a psychopath and that glimmer of silver. Gone was the man who he drank with and talked about sports. Replaced was someone who looked as sadistic as Norman Bates once his mommy completely took over. It was all so brief, but it left a scar deeper than any hardcore match through barbed wire ever could.
Now he just that he had never met Robert because even if he tried to avoid him for the rest of his days, he couldn’t get over the paranoid feeling that Robert could still come after him. Sure, something, whatever it may have been, stopped him from slashing Michael’s throat, but if Robert was crazy enough to be carrying around a knife to begin with (and almost used it), what would stop him later? Michael knew that psychopaths, especially ones that carry knives around with them for God knows what reason, are completely unpredictable. But unless there was a miraculous operation invented where eyes could be put in the back of your head, Michael would just have to look over his shoulder the rest of his life. Paranoia isn’t exactly fun, but it sure was a lot better than being caught off guard with a knife to the chest.
He sat on his black leather couch, trying to get his mind off what happened with Robert, but of course that wasn’t going to happen. It was just his luck that with such a big match at Tribulation, something like this would ruin his life at least temporarily. But apparently, that’s what a near death experience will do to you (as Stacy would certainly find out if she ever woke up).
But still, he was able to think, at least a little about the match in the midst of all of this mental chaos. There were a few things he was absolutely certain of. In the end, he couldn’t trust his partners that much. He had never trusted anyone in GWC so far with the exception of his protégé Xavier, and he had no real plans to start now. Talan Trenor only cemented this for him when he turned on GWC and joined EPW. Anyone, anyone at all could stab you in the back (just like Robert could do with that knife) even if they are on your team. Michael didn’t doubt for one second that Kid Alpha, Brian Wolf, and Creeping Death would love to be Tapout Champion, and what a better way to prove you want a shot then putting the champion out, whether or not he’s on your team? Michael was prepared to take out all of four of his opponents if he had to.
Oh, and what opponents they were. Kevin Hardaway, the guy he disposed of already. No threat to him there. David Alastair, someone who admittedly had his number in the past, and finally Michael was getting another shot at him. He had only gotten one shot at Reckless Jack before, and that was in a brutal hardcore match where they never faced off. Michael truly hoped that he would face off with him during the match, and the same held true with Joe Ragnal. But he wasn’t worried about that, or anything else for that matter.
Except for the possibly being killed by the psycho guy part of his life.
Michael had drifted off to sleep when he woke up at the sound of the phone ringing. Fumbling around, he found it and looked it at the caller ID, shocked at who it was.
Stacy’s father.
For a second he wondered why he’d be calling, but then it was obvious. He was going to tell Michael how he ruined his daughter’s life and nonsense like that. Well there was no way he was putting up with that. He closed his eyes and let the phone ring on. Eventually, it stopped and these words were left on the phone.
ONE MISSED CALL.
And what an important call it was…