Post by Deleted on Jun 18, 2016 20:06:25 GMT
A scene from a horror flick described the home of Dusty Eakins at best. Black mold grew in every corner and crest. The checkerboard tile floor was cracked, faded, and missing a tile here and there. The once beautiful flower wallpaper was torn, and the moldy, stained drywall was visible to see. The apartment was small, no bigger than your average office cubicle. A stained, single-person white mattress with no frame lay on the floor with a red wool blanket crumbled into a ball in the center. Other than that, the apartment was nearly empty. A mini fridge and a heating stove littered one corner, and in another sat a dresser with only one drawer; the others were missing. In another corner sat a rocking chair in which the big mammoth of a monster was seated.
“They laugh at me. They mock me.” It was Dusty venting, pacing back and forth in his apartment, waving his index finger in the air at a rapid pace. “ME!”
Joy—Killjoy—followed his manager’s movement, tilting his head to either side, eyes not moving, just his head.
“They look at me; they smile at me. But I—I can see through their smiles of lies. They judge me; they despise me; they hate me…” Dusty turned and marched up to his client, getting face to face with the beast. “WE, I MEAN WEEEE… THEY HATE US!”
He stabbed his finger into the chest of Killjoy. The monster showed his yellow rotted teeth and let out a low-pitched growl.
“They lie to us, right to our faces. ‘Cause they’re afraid, Joy, afraid of us. They think we don’t know, that you and I cannot see through the deception. But they don’t know.”
He pulled his hand back and walked away towards the opposite wall. He stopped, putting his hands behind his back and locking them together, and began searching the walls with his eyes. Pictures, hundreds of pictures were tacked to the wall. RSW photos, management, wrestlers, you name it, were tacked to his wall, even unknown people, city workers, just your average Joes' pictures where on the wall.
“That we do, and it is they that don’t know what awaits them. No, no, no. Look at them. Staring back at me, taunting me. I want their eyes. Yes. I want you to take their eyes, I don’t want them to see the same blue sky as me. I want them to see… only darkness.”
He turned his head to the side, looking out of the corner of his eye back in the direction of Killjoy.
“You.”
Killjoy rose from his seat.
“You… are my vengeance. You… are my revenge. Years and years I’ve dealt with the ridicule, the whispers behind my back, the pointing, and the laughing. No more, OH no more my friend. YOU.”
Dusty turned around, looking Killjoy right in the eye.
“YOU!”
He pointed behind himself, eyes locked on Killjoy but his hand aimed towards the wall of photos.
“You’ll make them suffer, you will destroy every last one of them. YES!”
Killjoy walked up to the wall, scanning each photo. In mere seconds, his expression went from curiosity to anger. He tore pictures, wallpaper, and drywall from the decaying wall, until only the studs and electrical wire were left in the wake of his destruction. He breathed heavily in and out, his fist clenched, his body trembled.
“Relax, breathe, my friend.” Dusty placed his hand on his shoulder, calming the monster with his touch.
Killjoy cooled off in an instance, his hands relaxed, the trembling disappeared, and he breathed at a regular rate.
“Soon. You will meet each and every one. Uh-huh. And you’ll make them pay, and you’ll torture them as they tortured me, right?”
Killjoy nodded his head in silence.
“Yes, right. ‘Cause no longer will I be their nerd, but the man they tremble and fear. ME… and my monster.”
Dusty laughed.
“They laugh at me. They mock me.” It was Dusty venting, pacing back and forth in his apartment, waving his index finger in the air at a rapid pace. “ME!”
Joy—Killjoy—followed his manager’s movement, tilting his head to either side, eyes not moving, just his head.
“They look at me; they smile at me. But I—I can see through their smiles of lies. They judge me; they despise me; they hate me…” Dusty turned and marched up to his client, getting face to face with the beast. “WE, I MEAN WEEEE… THEY HATE US!”
He stabbed his finger into the chest of Killjoy. The monster showed his yellow rotted teeth and let out a low-pitched growl.
“They lie to us, right to our faces. ‘Cause they’re afraid, Joy, afraid of us. They think we don’t know, that you and I cannot see through the deception. But they don’t know.”
He pulled his hand back and walked away towards the opposite wall. He stopped, putting his hands behind his back and locking them together, and began searching the walls with his eyes. Pictures, hundreds of pictures were tacked to the wall. RSW photos, management, wrestlers, you name it, were tacked to his wall, even unknown people, city workers, just your average Joes' pictures where on the wall.
“That we do, and it is they that don’t know what awaits them. No, no, no. Look at them. Staring back at me, taunting me. I want their eyes. Yes. I want you to take their eyes, I don’t want them to see the same blue sky as me. I want them to see… only darkness.”
He turned his head to the side, looking out of the corner of his eye back in the direction of Killjoy.
“You.”
Killjoy rose from his seat.
“You… are my vengeance. You… are my revenge. Years and years I’ve dealt with the ridicule, the whispers behind my back, the pointing, and the laughing. No more, OH no more my friend. YOU.”
Dusty turned around, looking Killjoy right in the eye.
“YOU!”
He pointed behind himself, eyes locked on Killjoy but his hand aimed towards the wall of photos.
“You’ll make them suffer, you will destroy every last one of them. YES!”
Killjoy walked up to the wall, scanning each photo. In mere seconds, his expression went from curiosity to anger. He tore pictures, wallpaper, and drywall from the decaying wall, until only the studs and electrical wire were left in the wake of his destruction. He breathed heavily in and out, his fist clenched, his body trembled.
“Relax, breathe, my friend.” Dusty placed his hand on his shoulder, calming the monster with his touch.
Killjoy cooled off in an instance, his hands relaxed, the trembling disappeared, and he breathed at a regular rate.
“Soon. You will meet each and every one. Uh-huh. And you’ll make them pay, and you’ll torture them as they tortured me, right?”
Killjoy nodded his head in silence.
“Yes, right. ‘Cause no longer will I be their nerd, but the man they tremble and fear. ME… and my monster.”
Dusty laughed.
