A dark road.  

The only thing I hear is footsteps, one after the other, lumbering through the darkness around me.  Two circles show me the world around me, a limited view of what appears to be a limited world.

One foot in front of the other.  

My hands feel heavy.  My face feels confined.  

Where the hell am I?  Where the hell am I going?

My legs just keep going, with no direction whatsoever.  It’s cold.  Yet I’m not shivering.  My eyes they stay trained to a spot in front of me, into the darkness, into the unknown.  I’m scared.  

No, I’m not.

I know what I have to do.  

I know what has to be done.  

 

Date February 2nd 2018 / Time 6:20AM / Status Not Recording
Location The Johnson Residence – Baltimore, Maryland

(Continued from JC’s ‘Whiplash’ RP)

He turns away from me and begins moving back towards the house, the house where my father and mother are more than likely still sleeping. My entire body shakes, not only from the chilly night air, but from the fear of again being on this street; in front of this house again. He doesn’t get it. He’s out here to make an old man pay for his transgressions towards his friend – but it’s so much more than that.

I can’t even imagine the consequences of what JC’s wanting to do.. Not just for him or me, but for Stacy and little Lizzie. I can’t let him do this.

I step forward, grabbing his arm and jerking him back towards the end of the driveway. He whips his head around and glares at me, shock and anger present in his eyes. I shift my gaze to the house, where a light in the upstairs bedroom – their bedroom comes on. My heart nearly stops in my chest when I see it, but I push through the feeling and jerk JC behind a bush on the edge of the driveway, keeping us out of view of that window.

“Just what in the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Keep your voice down!”

I hiss at him. He thinks he can just waltz right up in here and do whatever in the fuck he wants, because he’s the ‘Answer’ JC.. Well he doesn’t have the fucking answers in this situation, or at least his answers are fucking wrong.

I can see the anger in his eyes as I peer out around the bush to see if the bedroom light is still on, but I can’t find it in my self to care about that anger any more than wanting to keep us hidden from them until we can get out of here. He doesn’t realize what he’s doing, and he doesn’t realize that I’m not worth fucking up his entire life over. That’s why I’m keeping him and Maggie out of this.. That’s why I’m trying to handle everything myself.

Don’t they understand that?

“Don’t…”

He says, a tone of quiet outrage in his voice. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard him speak to me like this. Back when he and I couldn’t stand one another, back in a time that I’d rather not think about. Instead I’m standing here in my parents yard, trying to hold back tears and regretting telling Joe about the things that happened in my life. There wasn’t any reason to burden him with this.

“Joe…I don’t want you to ruin your life for me. Think of your kid. Think of Stacy…. I’m not worth it.”

It’s like saying those words out loud is enough to break the dam that was holding the tears back. The imaginary wall crumbles and the tears slide down my face, dripping off of my jawline and onto my jacket. It’s overwhelming. I blink a few times, glimpsing up into Joe’s face – fully expecting to see that same stern, angry look I’d seen only a few seconds ago.

But all I see is regret and sadness.

“Please, Joe. Let’s just go.”

My hands tremble and I fight back a sob as he pulls me into his arms, wrapping me into a hug. At first, I’m not sure what to do and my body stiffens up. It’s not like him to show any kind of affection or caring, at least not in this way. He does care, I’ve always known that. He wouldn’t have driven all the way down here from New York, wanting to avenge my pain if he didn’t. Finally, I just let myself go, letting the tears flow without resistance and without fear of judgement.

I think JC and I are past that at this point.

I notice the sky beginning to brighten. I can’t believe we’ve been out here so long. For a split moment I forget where I’m standing, until I look around Joe’s arm and I see the house. That modest, two story brick house that holds nearly all of my worst memories. I pull away from JC and I shake my head.

“They’re going to be up soon.. We need to go, now.”

I don’t mean to sound bossy, but I don’t want to know what happens if one of them comes out for the morning paper and sees me standing here. I grip Joe’s arm and I pull him back out onto the main road, heading back towards our respective vehicles. I stop in front of his truck and sigh, raking my hands through my knotted and unkempt hair.

“But thank you… As fucked up as this entire thing is… Thank you for giving a shit.”

He shrugs his shoulders and looks around at the neighborhood that’s just beginning to come to life in these early morning hours. I turn to see a few early birds walking outside to get their morning papers, and a couple more already in their cars and leaving for work, I presume.

“Of course I give a shit. God knows what I would have done if you wouldn’t have shown up.”

He sighs, himself and brings his eyes back down into mine. I still see that regret deep down in there, but more so I see a little bit of embarrassment. I hope I didn’t embarrass him…

“I don’t know. Probably something I should have done years ago…”

My cheeks burn. I’m the one that should be embarrassed, coming from a family like this and still too damn frightened to actually stand up and do anything about it? I keep saying I’m going to handle this myself, but I don’t even know what that means yet. I can only imagine what I look like to the people I love… I probably look like a damned fool.

They don’t understand, I fear they never will.

“That’s not for me to say. But he is a piece of shit.”

I nod my head in agreement. Looking over my shoulder to make sure that no one at that particular house has come outside yet. Nothing. I turn back to see a stern, yet soft look on his face.

“What?”

“Nothing. Let’s get out of here.”

“Wanna stop for breakfast?”

 

 

Inside a studio.

People moving all around me, cameras everywhere. He’s here somewhere. He’s always here. Always showing off for the people, acting like he’s better than the rest of us.

He loves being in front of the camera.

“Ladies and gentlemen, he is the host of The Piercing Truth, you know his name, the Icon of Entertainment, the King of Charisma, he is…TRAVIS PIERCE!”

I turn. I see him. Standing amid the cameras, a cocky grin upon his lips.

“Welcome to the show! I am Travis Pierce, and welcome to The Piercing Truth!”

If only he knew… how Piercing the truth is about to get.

I pound my feet as I walk towards him, I feel no hesitation, no remorse for what is about to happen. No one stops me. No one could. I make no attempt to disguise my approach. I want him to see me coming. I want to see the fear in his eyes when he realizes what’s about to happen.

“Now who will be featured in our top stories ton—”

I move around the camera, stepping into the light for the first time.

His eyes widen at the sight of me. I bring my right hand up in front of my face, letting the butcher knife in my hand glisten in the bright lights.

“Wait a minute… Who are you? What are you–”

The feeling of the blade penetrating his skin is euphoric. The way the blade rips and tears at the flesh of his throat. The way his blood spills over the metal and seeps into the wooden handle.

He gurgles, spitting out blood onto my chest.

I reach up with my other hand, plunging my fingers into the gaping hole in his throat. I look down into his eyes, watching them widen one last time as I rip his larynx from within his neck. The feeling, the sound of cartilage ripping through the skin… The look in his eyes, one of absolute pain…

And then nothing.

I drop his body to the ground, letting it hit with a resounding thud as I turn around to see the terrified stares and the gaping mouths of everyone who just witnessed the murder of their star. I stand there, holding my bloody knife in one hand, and Travis Pierces moneymaker in the other.

I wipe the knife off on my hip and grip the slippery handle as I begin moving towards the exit. My work here is done.

Travis Pierce will no longer sing. He will no longer taint our ears with his garbage. He will no longer…

 

Date February 21st 2018 / Time 11:29AM / Status Not Recording
Location The Wylde Residence – New York City, New York

(Continued from ‘Miss UGWC’ RP)

“I know, I know.”

I reach into the cabinet and come back out with old faithful… Jack Daniels. I take the bottle back over to the table with me and open the cap, taking a healthy swig. Now I think I can manage to rummage through all of this bullshit…

Except…

I can’t. It feels like there’s a road block inside my brain. Sure I can pick each paper up, I can even read it.. But I can’t comprehend what I’m reading on the page. My mind doesn’t want to accept it, or process what’s happening.

I look at the bottle sitting in front of me on the table and a pang of guilt rushes through me.

I hadn’t touched the stuff for months. No matter how badly I wanted to, no matter how much I felt like I needed to.. I kept myself in check. It wasn’t really hard to though, as cliche as it sounds in my own head… as cheesy as it sounds, being with Maggie made it easier to keep myself away from it.

It’s not like I don’t have her now.. I’m just being stupid. I’m acting like a damned teenager. I’m letting everything get to me – and I’m letting it affect the one thing that makes and keeps me happy, even if everything else goes to shit. I gave her space because she needed it. I’ve been hovering over her, trying to make sure all her needs are taken care of.

Yeah, that’s what I’m there for.. But I forgot in the span of these last two weeks that she’s her own person and she doesn’t need me constantly watching over her.

Thirty-fucking-three years old, and still learning that lesson the hard way.

Fuck, I hate myself sometimes.

I pull the summons off of the top of the pile of papers, and I read it over once more. Gary and Christine Johnson are suing Lucy Wylde… Yep. Nothing’s changed. Four million dollars. Yep, that’s the same too. March 28th 2018… A fucking eternity away.

I keep staring at it, as if the papers would magically disintegrate or at the very least, the names would change on it and I’d see that I got the wrong summons. Something, anything to ease the pressure the bears down on me like a god damned eighteen-wheeler on my shoulders.

How in the hell did he get the idea of taking this shit to court anyway? He couldn’t have thought of it himself. Then again, I guess I’m not really privy to what that man is truly capable of. Not anymore, at least.

It makes me think back to the other morning though… okay, more like three weeks ago, but it feels like it just happened yesterday. That morning on the street, chasing after JC as he thought to do the unthinkable… at least to me. It seemed like he was ready to do whatever it took… whatever that would have been.

Wait a minute..

JC…

In a heartbeat, I’m up from that chair and I’ve got my keys in my hand and I’m out the door.

 

 

A door.

Unassuming. Boring. Empty.

I reach out, opening the door. I step inside, leaving the door ajar behind me. I hear a feminine voice floating through the household. I see clutter lining the floor. I smell food. But I am hungry for something much more…

Filling.

“Oh, no. I’m making pizza!”

The knife slides along the wall, leaving a trail of impending doom wherever the blade touches. She has no idea. No clue. Far too preoccupied with whomever she’s conversing with on the telephone. Far too obsessed with gluttony.

“You want some? You’re more than welcome!”

I round the corner, and I see her. Blonde hair, blue eyes, tank top and short shorts adorned on a lovely body. Lovely enough… for now.

“Oh, okay Vain… Well thank you for calling. I’ll see you Monday.”

Vain…

She’ll be seeing him much sooner than she expects.

I step into the kitchen where she busily places toppings onto her pizza. I tap the knife on the dining room table as I pass by, but she’s too busy to hear it.

By the time she senses my presence, I’m directly behind her.

She gasps as I plunge the knife deep into her spine. Her legs give out from under her, and she collapses to the ground. Severing her spine will do that. I cock my head to the side as she screams up at me, her words coming out jumbled. Nonsense.

She won’t be going anywhere.

I turn away from her tear soaked face, and I look around her home. I want to prolong this. Her cries, they only serve to further my determination. My mission.

Finally I come back to where she still lay, rope in hand. I roll her onto her stomach, and grab her arms – but she pulls away.

Defiant.

Not for long. I place my boot on top of her severed spine and pull her arms back, ripping her arms out of socket. Rendering her motionless. Useless. She screams in agony, her arms now just as limp as her legs.

I tie her arms behind her back and I tie her ankles together.

The rope tightens as I hoist her up into the air. Displaying her like a pig, the only thing missing is the apple in her mouth.

She hangs high enough above her kitchen that I can freely walk underneath. I reach up and drag the knife along her stomach, all the way up to her quivering chest. Her tears drip down onto me from above, like rain. Her blood doing much of the same.

“Please… Please… Why–”

I plunge the knife into her abdomen, just below her ribs… Blood flows freely over my hand as I run the blade all the way down to her pant line, slicing her open as if she were in a butcher shop. I pull the blade from her body, moving back up to her head, pulling her hair down, forcing her to watch her entrails fall from her body and onto the counter beneath her.

I wipe the knife off on her cheek, making sure her last and final breath on this earth is taken with me in her sights.

Once her head falls in ultimate defeat, I know that my work is done here.

 

Date February 21st 2018 / Time 12:42PM / Status Not Recording
Location The Lee Residence – Jersey City, New Jersey

Before I realize it, I’m knocking on the door to JC and Stacy’s house. Probably knocking a little too much. Probably going to wake the baby up or something, probably going to find a way of pissing them off somehow.

“Lucy?”

Finally the door opens to the shocked face of JC’s wife, Stacy. I’m guessing she doesn’t quite understand why I’m standing on their doorstep at noon on a random ass Wednesday. I try to force a smile onto my weary lips and shrug my shoulders.

“Hey Stacy, is Joe around?”

She nods her head and opens the door wider, allowing me into the house.

“He’s down in the gym. Is.. Is everything okay Lucy? We didn’t expect to see you today.”

I realize I’m clenching my jaw so hard that I almost can’t pull it apart to respond.

“I’m fine. I just needed to talk to Joe. Sorry for barging in like this.”

“No, no. It’s okay Lucy.”

She says, moving past me and heading back towards the kitchen. She stops in front of me for a split second though, taking in a deep breath before continuing. I fall in behind her, tailing her – wondering if she could smell the one shot of whiskey I took an hour ago. I bet she could.

She’s a fucking coon hound when it comes to this shit, apparently.

Jesus Christ.

“You been drinking?”

I could sense the question on her lips even as she walked away from me. I expected it, hell, I almost welcomed it just so that it doesn’t seem like I’m trying to hide anything away from anyone. I’m not.

“A shot, before I came here. Kind of a split second decision thing.”

That’s putting it mildly.

“The drinking?”

“No, the coming here. I just.. Something happened the other day and.. I…”

My voice trails off. I’m at a loss for words. I don’t even know how to explain this entire thing to Stacy without making her want to kill JC. If she found out that he’d went to Baltimore and did what he did, and then the possibility that he saw us and that’s why he’s taking me to court? I don’t know if I would make it out of Stacy’s wrath at that point.

“What? What happened?”

I open my mouth to explain, but the words don’t come out. Instead I smile and move sideways towards the door that leads down to the basement.

“Oh, nothing bad… Don’t worry about it. I just needed to talk with Joe about it because… because I can’t remember everything. Just silly wrestling stuff. Yeah.”

I grab the doorknob and practically throw myself onto the stairs before she can question me anymore. I clamber down into JC’s gym to find him standing at the foot of them, his hands on his hips. This entire trip just becomes more and more of a bad idea the longer I’m away from home.

“What in the–”

“I need to talk to you.”

I brush past him, instantly feeling the sweat forming on my forehead. Good God he keeps it hot down here. I wipe my head off and turn around to see him standing in the same spot, looking just about as confused as I’ve ever seen him.

“And you couldn’t use a phone?”

I shake my head and walk back towards him. I must look like a crazy person right now, pacing back and forth in his gym where he was probably happily fucking working out, forgetting about all the shit I ever told him about anything that’s ever happened to me… and here I come, fucking all of that up again.

“No, I couldn’t. And Stacy knows I was drinking so she probably–”

“You didn’t drive here did you?”

I shake my head again.

“No, but she probably thinks I’m insane for being here right now, and I guess I can’t blame her. She wanted to know why I was here and I told her wrestling stuff…”

“Let me guess, you’re not here about ‘wrestling stuff’.”

“You didn’t tell her about what happened the other morning, did you?”

His eyebrows raise.

“You didn’t…”

“Jesus, no. But I keep saying the other morning like it happened earlier this week. No, I didn’t tell her Joe.. But that’s what I need to talk to you about.”

He walks around me and sits down on the weight bench. I turn to see him running his hands over his head.

“Do you think he saw us out there in his lawn?”

“Wait, what?”

I can feel my stomach moving up into my throat.

“I think that’s why he’s taking me to court, because he saw us in the front yard that morning.”

“That’s…”

He looks up at me, and I can see his brain working – thinking back to that morning, replaying it in his head, like I’m sure he has many times since he came home.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“It is?”

“Unless he can see through bushes, Luce… He didn’t know you were there.”

I shake my head and sit down on the floor in front of the weight bench. I know I tried to stay hidden, but there’s always the chance that when I pulled Joe back from the walkway that he was already watching out the window. Or what if he has a surveillance system?

“I can see you thinking about the ‘what if’s’ Luce.”

I glance up at him, shrugging my shoulders.

“There are a lot of them, Joe. Like what if I lose and I have to sell everything I own? What if that’s not enough? What if–”

“What if you drive yourself insane because of some asshole who isn’t worth it?”

“You’re not the one dealing with this.”

“Wrong. I’m dealing with this because you’re my friend and I care. You can’t do this by yourself.”

I smile and shake my head, trying to push the tears that are stinging the corners of my eyes back into my head.

“I have to.”

“No. You don’t. This is no different than any other challenge you’ve faced since you got away from that prick.”

No different?

“It is different. This isn’t just a wrestling match, this is my life. This is more than keeping myself from it.. This is keeping you, and your family.. Maggie.. Everyone else that I care about out of this and out of his fucking crosshairs.”

“You can’t keep protecting us, Lucy. We’re all capable of taking care of ourselves.”

I close my eyes and nod my head.

“I know. But he–”

“He is the asshole that abused you and your sister. Yet you keep protecting him, even though he’s extorting you and forcing you to fear everyday like you did when you were a kid.”

“Protecting him?”

“Yeah, protecting him. Stop being scared of him. Stop giving him exactly what he wants.”

It feels like my tears are on fire as they slide out of my eyes, and burn a trail down my cheeks.

“I CAN’T!”

I can’t.

The fear. It’s crippling. How do I simply stop something that has been ingrained in me since I was a kid? It’s not just that fucking easy. I feel his hand grab my arm, forcing my attention back on him. My eyes go wide as he leans in towards my face, his eyes practically boring a hole through my own eyes.

“Yes. You can.”

 

 

Mirrors.

Mirrors everywhere.

The stench of arrogance fills this hallway, along with possessions. Things. Things that have no value. No meaning. I pass by a table holding trinkets, I extend the knife from my hand, pushing them to the floor where they shatter into a million tiny pieces.

I hear the droning sounds of men speaking further down the hall.

Now that sounds like somewhere I need to be.

No wonder they didn’t hear the broken glass. Far too caught up in themselves, far too busy being them and living the high life to worry about a couple of dollars in damages.

Very soon, there will be things broken that no amount of money will be able to fix.

I come to stand in front of a pair of double doors. I smell cigar smoke and expensive alcohol. I sense an air of contentment and relaxation from within.

I bring the knife up to the door, knocking it lightly upon the highly expensive wood.

“What in the?”

“I’ll answer it, sir.”

“How many times have I told you, Simon – Don’t call me sir.”

The door opens, and I stare into the stunned lenses of a man who is not Vain. He opens his mouth to speak, but he quickly falls to the floor, my knife protruding rather crudely from the side of his neck.

My face comes up from inspecting the pool of blood surrounding my feet to see him, seating upon a fine leather sofa, a cigar in one hand and a drink in the other. This room also wallpapered with mirrors, so it seems.

If only the vain one could see the expression on his face as he views his downed slave.

“W-Who in the bloody hell are you?”

I step over the body of his servent and I approach him, stopping just before I round the sofa.

“I said who in the–”

He is interrupted by the shattering of a mirror. The pieces fall unceremoniously to the ground, and without breaking eye contact with the man, I bend down and grab a large shard of his life essence, bringing it up to my face. I reach down once again, pulling up another, second shard of glass.

He gasps as I walk behind the sofa, but before he can turn around or get away, I come down with both pieces of the mirror, sending them straight into the eyes of the vain one.

He shrieks in pain as blood begins pouring from his eyes.

He cries his own blood, for he will never be able to see himself again. Pity.

I lodge the glass in deeper and pull away from the man, moving back to the doorway and pulling the knife from the corpses neck. I bring it across the room and waste no time in slowly, painfully sawing through the neck of my victim until his head is hanging upon his shoulders by a thread.

He breathes no more.

I rip the last bit of skin, and finally I am holding his head in my hand. No more screaming. No more talking. No more.

I drop his head on the ground at my feet, and I look up, seeing my reflection for the first time. I drop the knife at my feet as well, taking a few strides towards the mirror. I place my bloody hands upon the mask I wear, leaving the lives of my victims upon my face.

I reach behind my head, the urge to remove the mask.. The urge to see myself for what I’ve done greater than it’s ever been. I want to see the flowing blonde locks, I want to see the blue eyes, the pouty lips… I want to know that it was I…

I let the mask fall to my feet, and I look up into the mirror…

“AHHHHHH!!!!!!”

 

Date March 3rd 2018 / Time 11:57PM / Status Not Recording
Location The Lockheart Residence – Inwood, New York

“Lucy! Lucy!”

“AHHHHHHHH!!!!”

I feel hands on me, and I rip them away. I fall to the ground, my hands on my face.. Tugging at my hair, feeling my lips, groping my chest. I feel someone on the ground beside me, but I slide away, swearing I’m going to see Vain’s head across the room and some strange mans dead body to the side, surrounded by blood…

“Luce…”

I gasp as she touches me again, but I don’t pull away – even though every fiber of my being is telling me to get away from what I saw in that mirror.

“Lucy… It’s okay.”

I finally look up into her eyes, seeing the concern. I lower my hand to my chest, feeling my heart beating faster than it’s ever beat before. I pull in a deep breath and let myself fall backwards until I’m laying flat on the floor.

“Jesus…”

She rubs my arm and takes my hand.

“What was it?”

“My father… I saw him in the mirror.”

She sits back on the floor and shakes her head.

“I need to stop drinking so much…”

 

OOC: JC & Maggie Used with Permission.

Also, Travis, Jessica & Vain  – I wanted to make sure you all knew that the sections your characters were featured in were only dreams.
Good luck to your team guys!  It’s been fun!