Redemption- Pt. 1

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They say at the end you begin to think about the beginning…I never truly understood why though. I mean, you would figure that at the end of something that has been such a massive part of your life for so long that you would think about all the things that you’re going to miss about it, ya know? You’d figure that you would sit around and think to yourself, “damn, I am going to miss spending time with the boys in the back and I’m going to miss the roar of the crowd and the feeling of being the champ one more time.”

Maybe that’s what they mean when they say that in the end you begin to think about the beginning. Because, looking back on it now, I am going to miss the roar of the crowd, the feeling of championship gold sitting on my shoulder, the hint of envy in the eyes of my opponents as I shift that title like I have fucking Tourette’s. Looking back on it all, I do feel a bit of a pang of sadness as I prepare to wrap things up once and for all…

But the difference between me and any other person on this planet, is that I have so much to atone for before I am allowed to hang up my spurs for good. I have wrought so much evil and wickedness over the course of my career that it just wouldn’t be right if I just turned and walked away from the game the way it is now. I have hurt so many people…some of them deserved the pain I inflicted on them…but a majority of those people didn’t. A majority of the people that I hurt were simply casualties of war in my eyes…pawns that happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I am...or was, rather…a sick man. I suffered from hallucinations that I believed to be real. I heard voices screaming at me from the darkest parts of my mind to inflict pain and suffering on all those who stood before me. I was angry…always so fucking angry. All it took was the slightest thing to send me careening over the edge like a mad man, ranting and raving and screaming from the rooftops about the coming of God and my belief that I was some sort of “Lord.” I didn’t see that there is more to life that inflicting suffering…I didn’t see that there was more to life than bringing death and destruction to my enemies.

I guess at the end…we really do look back at the beginning…and when I look back at my beginning…hell, when I look back at a majority of my entire CAREER…I see that I have done more harm than good. Yes, I helped to create IWF…but that doesn’t absolve me of the sins that I have committed in the past. Before I retire, I need to go back and reconcile and atone for all that I have done. Before I walk away from professional wrestling forever, I need to right the wrongs of my past. Before I step away for good, I need to be the shining sword and shield that I have claimed to be each and every time I go toe to toe with any invader who threatens the well-being of IWF.

I need to become the redeemer that I claim to be

But in order to do that, I need to delve back into the darkness that clouded my mind for so long. In order to be at peace with my inner self and become the symbol that IWF needs me to be, I need to right the wrongs of my past and expunge the sins from my record.

I heard a saying recently that, for one reason or another, truly stuck with me. The character in this movie I saw was taking to the main villain and she said “It's really not that complicated. I've got red in my ledger, I'd like to wipe it out.” The main villain goes on to taunt her to some degree before the character essentially turns the whole thing around on him, but that’s not the point here. The reason I mention that quote is because, much like the character in that movie, I too have a lot of red in my ledger that I’d like to wipe out. I too have a lot of horrors that sit and wait for me to close my eyes before they creep up and turn my dreams into nightmares.

This is my one chance to seek redemption

My one chance to set things right before I take what could be my final curtain call and say good bye to in ring competition for good

This is my story

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Act One: A History Lesson

The scene slowly fades in from black to show a room full of reporters from the perspective of a TV camera. The reporters all sit in chairs, quietly talking amongst themselves, participating in idle conversation with the people whose voices they would later be screaming over in an attempt to have their question answered. But for now, they all knew that there was no sense in making enemies just yet.

At the front of the room is a stage with a podium on it. A large IWF phoenix logo is emblazoned on the front of the podium, reflecting the light from the massive overhead spotlights that are shining brightly from the back of the room. In the backdrop, there is a large screen with smaller versions of the IWF phoenix logo dotted across the screen. The buzz in the air is palpable and excitement courses through the air like electricity. The camera zooms in on the podium and then quickly back out, adjusting the brightness and the tint of the shot

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“Kill me with a beat”

The sound of “Do You Call My Name?” by Ra blasts out of the house speakers, causing a smile to spread across my face. Originally I didn’t think that a press conference was an appropriate venue to use my entrance music but the head of our PR Department had said that using the entrance music would be a cool way to make an entrance, despite the fact that it was unconventional to say the least. I take a deep breath, straighten my tie, and walk out from behind the screen. I can’t help but to smirk as I look out at the now standing and screaming mass of reporters, each one shouting out my name in an attempt to catch my attention

“Mr. Casey!”
“Mr. Casey!”

99% of the time, I felt as though press conferences were nothing short of asinine. A bunch of so called “adults” pushing, shoving, and screaming at me in an attempt to win my attention and then, when I did call on them, they usually asked me the dumbest questions imaginable. With that being said though, I knew that press conferences were an important step in terms of winning the public’s favor and making the company look good in the eyes of our fans.

I walk up the short flight of steps and step fully out onto the stage. I squint my eyes ever so slightly as the spotlights shine full force on me from the back of the room. Why in god’s name they needed to be so damn bright I could never understand. After my eyes adjust to the brightness of the spotlights, I walk the rest of the way over to the podium and tap the microphone that was set up on top of the podium in an attempt to make sure it was on. After being rewarded with an audible “thunk” I lean forward ever so slightly and pause, waiting for my entrance music to stop, before speaking

Corey Casey
Alright ladies and gents, could we all take a seat?

I have to stop myself from laughing aloud as all the reporters look at one another for a split second before slowly sitting down in their chairs. Sometimes I felt as though I were a teacher in a first grade classroom when I spoke at press conferences. I had to make sure all the reporters were sitting and behaving nicely and were raising their hands before I called on them. I heard somewhere that there were those who thought that, as human beings got older, we began to regress and act more and more like little children. If that were true, than reporters at a press conference were clearly the shining examples of that behavior.

Corey Casey
Alright thank you very much. So, as all of you are no doubt aware, I am here on behalf of Insurgency Wrestling Federation to promote the upcoming Ragnarok Pay Per View. If you will remember back to last year’s inaugural Ragnarok, there is a match called the Path to Valhalla match that is, usually, the main event. It is during this Path to Valhalla match that one individual attempts to run the gauntlet, defeating every single superstar who wishes to enter this contest all for a chance to be in the main event of From The Ashes.

My smirk widens as I have brief flashbacks to last year’s Path to Valhalla match. I see myself winning the match, I remember hearing the bell ringing as my wrist was held aloft in victory…I feel my smirk fade slightly as I also remember Brandon Macdonald making his surprise returning and ruining my victory, thus forcing a triple threat match at From The Ashes.

I shake my head for a moment, attempting to clear the cobwebs from my head. I snap back into the moment and see a sea of hands shoot up into the air. I look out and call on a random woman who looks like she might piss her pants if I don’t call on her

Corey Casey
Yes you, what’s your question?

The reporters around the woman look crestfallen as they slowly retake their seats. The woman looks around at her cohorts, a triumphant smile on her face, her eyes screaming “haha I win.”

Like I said….sometimes, it was like being the teacher in a classroom full of first graders…

Peggy Gribble
Hi, Peggy Gribble, Channel 6 news out of Dallas-Fort Worth, Texas…

I try to resist the urge to vomit on the podium…god I fucking hated southern accents. Something about them just seemed so uneducated. I knew damn well that there were plenty of people who were probably geniuses that had southern accents…rocket scientists and doctors who spoke with that southern twang. But ever since I had met and became friends with Vincent Van Rose, something about that accent just drove me crazy

Peggy Gribble
Mr. Casey, I was just wondering, IWF’s travel schedule has pretty much consisted of New England states and Canadian provinces over the last year or so, when is IWF going to be headed to the western and southern states?

I take a moment, pondering the question in my mind. The IWF Board of Directors had actually just had a meeting about this and this unequal travel schedule had come up…

Corey Casey
Well, Peggy, I would just like to let you and the rest of the die-hard IWF fans in the western and southern states of the US, that IWF is actually in the midst of planning a comprehensive sweep of the western and southern states here in the US over the course of this summer. We will be hitting up all the major arenas from Boise, Idaho and the smurf turf, all the way to Miami, Florida! Also, I would just like to let all of you be the first ones to know, that From The Ashes II, the biggest Pay Per View on the IWF calendar, will be broadcasting LIVE from the Enterprise Arena in lovely Chicago, Illinois!

There is a murmur of approval throughout the room as the reporters gathered in front of me all frantically write the information I just divulged to them down on notepads and personal laptops. I gave them a moment to soak everything in before I once again look out over the crowd

Corey Casey
Any other questions?

The reporters all leap to their feet once more and wave their hands frantically in the air. After a moment of looking out at the flailing crowd, I select a thin reporter wearing wire rimmed glasses standing at the back just underneath one of the spotlights

Corey Casey
Yes you with the wire rimmed glasses in the back under the spotlight

The reporter smiles widely, clearly quite pleased that I had called on him. Jess always told me that I should try and be nicer to people…well, I had clearly made this reporter’s day so I guess I was doing my good deed for the day…

Dale Hill
Dale Hill, Sand Diego Tribune, I was just wondering Mr. Casey…do you plan on entering the Path to Valhalla match again this year?

I shake my head “no” feeling myself chuckle softly. I had talked it over with Jess and with a number of other people…and come to the conclusion that it wasn’t going to be in the cards this year

Corey Casey
I don’t know if you’re all aware…but Stygian and I are going to be facing off one on one at Ragnarok in a match that has never been seen before in professional wrestling history. Stygian calls it a “Hellzone” match. Three cages….with weapons and the point of this match is to wheel your opponent out of the arena in a casket after busting him wide open.

I feel a shiver of excitement and nervousness shoot down my spine as I think about the Hellzone match

Corey Casey
Based on what I’ve learned about the Hellzone match and based on the fact that Stygian has been decimating his opponents one by one since his return, I can honestly say that I do not plan on participating in the Path to Valhalla match this year. I fully expect that neither Stygian or I will be able to participate in the Path to Valhalla match this year. This Hellzone match has so many variables and so many chances for each of us to suffer a career ending injury that I fully expect to be completely exhausted and unable to participate in any other match for the rest of the night

The reporters all frantically write as fast as they can get their pens to the paper, jotting down my thoughts and words. After a few moments, I lean forward once more and speak

Corey Casey
Any other questions?

The reporters all leap to their feet once more, each of them vying for my attention. After a few moments of searching, I see a small, mousy looking woman with dark hair and dark rimmed glasses standing off to the side. She had a dark look about her…quiet yet clearly dangerous. She was wearing some sort of pin on her lapel but I couldn’t quite make out what it was. As my gaze came to rest on her, I could hear my intuition screaming at me from the back of my mind

“Don’t do it. Don’t call on her. Just look at her. She CLEARLY isn’t going to ask you anything good…”

Yet I couldn’t help but be drawn to her. I wanted to know what her question was. No…I NEEDED to know what her question was…

Corey Casey
Yes you, with the dark hair and the dark red pin on your lapel

The woman looks more surprised that I had called on her than the three other reporters who were basically climbing over the woman’s back to get my attention. The other reporters melt away, leaving the thin, dark haired woman standing alone. The woman looks around the room and seems a little nervous as the eyes of every single reporter in the room come to rest on her. After a moment of silence, she clears her throat

Jada Smith
My name is Jada…Jada Smith

The second Jada opens her mouth, her voice echoes around the inside of the press conference like thunder. I feel my stomach clench as I hear Jada’s voice, feeling a sense of shock and fear well up inside of me. I lean forward on the podium and feel my eyes widen as I recognize what the pin on Jada’s lapel was…

A blood red cross…

I swallow hard, trying to control the sense of panic that was beginning to threaten to overtake me. I take a deep breath, releasing it slowly, before I lean forward and speak

Corey Casey
Well, Jada…what is your question?

A twisted smile slowly creeps across Jada’s facial features as she stares right at me, not showing the slightest hint of nervousness or insecurity. She had to be one of them…she had to be with…

Jada Smith
During his last stint, as brief as it might’ve been, Alex Mark made it known that he was on a mission to show you the light of Salvation once more. Alex Mark referred to you two as brothers who were bonded through the blood of Salvation

Jada Smith flips her notebook to a different page and continues talking…but I feel myself slowly beginning to fade away. Every time Jada says the word “Salvation” it felt like a hammer blow to my skull. Salvation…the demented and twisted cult-like religion that I had, at one point, been the leader of. Salvation…the religion that praised Brenton Cyrus as a God here on Earth. Salvation…the cult started by Nick Ridicule, Brenton Cyrus, and Chuck Matthews during their early days in NLWF.

I had joined Salvation during the first week of my NLWF tenure. I had allowed myself to be taken by Brenton Cyrus and held captive. I allowed myself to be deprived of food, of water, of sunlight, of the modern day comforts that I took for granted today. I allowed myself to be tortured and broken down mentally, physically, and emotionally. Brenton Cyrus had told me he was going to break me in order to make me anew. Brenton had told me that he was a God and that, after he was done remaking me, I would sit at the right hand of God…

And for awhile…I did sit at the right hand of God. For awhile, every living, breathing second of my life had been about sacrificing for the good of Salvation. I had sat idly by and allowed Brenton Cyrus to sculpt The Lord from the shattered remains of my psyche. I had allowed The Lord to inflict unspeakable horrors upon the world, all in the name of Salvation…

Jada Smith
Alex Mark has been quoted as saying, “The truth lies, in the eyes of the beholder, so sayeth the bastard son. I will dawn the mask of Salvation's Soul Survivor, on a mission to revive the soul of a brother who hath been lost on the long and darkened path created by us, for us, through Salvation. I must win for the both of us.”

Alex Mark’s face hovers before my eyes, his red mohawk starting out sharply, his smiling face taunting me from my own memories. Alex Mark’s face slowly twists and mutates, eventually turning into the stern face of Brenton Cyrus. I feel my heart rate begin to sky rocket as panic and stress begin to race through my body, clouding my senses and my mind.

Corey Casey
ENOUGH!

Jada Smith falls silent as the rest of the reporters gathered in front of me look on in shock and awe. I could feel the cold sweat beading on my forehead, my lungs filling laboriously as I strain to draw my next breath. I take several deep breaths, in through my nose and out through my mouth, my eyes slowly falling shut for a moment as thoughts of Jess and my children dance through my mind. Suddenly, Jada’s voice echoes out

Jada Smith
Mr. Casey?

And just like that, the visions of Jess holding our children tightly to her chest, morphs into a badly beaten and starved Jessica Matthews chained to a wall in a dark and dank prison cell in a Salvation Conversion Camp. My eyes fly open as I stare at Jada Smith, pure rage coursing through my veins

Corey Casey
WHAT?!

Jada Smith’s evil grin widens as she stares at me. I wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that I was clearly an emotional wreck…I wasn’t trying to hide the fact that I could barely even see straight and that I was sweating profusely. Jada Smith knew that she had won and, because of that knowledge, she knew her next question would purely be for show…because she had already gained the information that she had come to collect…

Jada Smith
My question, Mr. Casey, is…do you know of the whereabouts of Alex Mark since his last tenure in IWF?

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The scene suddenly shifts to show Corey Casey on a TV screen. The camera zooms in on Corey Casey, whose face has gone from enraged to emotionless in seemingly no time flat. Corey Casey looks at the reporter, who had identified herself as Jada Smith, and answers in a deadpan voice

Corey Casey
No

The reporters all leap to their feet, screaming questions as fast as their minds can think of them. The camera zooms in on Corey Casey who leans forward and speaks into the microphone one last time

Corey Casey
This press conference is over

The camera zooms out as Corey Casey turns and walks off stage. The reporters continue to hurl question after question at Corey Casey as he slowly turns and walks away, the scene slowly fades to black

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Act Two: Seeking Forgiveness

I walk out of the strangely lush and thick forest, feeling the cold wind whip across my face as I break out from the tree line. I knew I had to come here…I knew that I had to answer the letter that had been waiting for me in my dressing room after the press conference. There was no escaping the inevitable…I was destined to return back to the forsaken city one last time.

I find myself standing on the top of a small hill overlooking what looked like a barren wasteland. Overhead, the sky was tinted red and lightning fell down from the skies in random intervals. The sound of thunder booming in the distance rolls across the predominantly empty wasteland…but I knew that rain would never come. It never rained here in this wasteland, nor did it snow. The clouds never went away and the sun never shined down on the lifeless earth that stretched out for miles before me. I drop down to one knee, allowing myself to rest briefly. I look out across the wasteland and see the looming black ruins that stand out as the only identifiable feature for hundreds of miles around.



I remember when I had first knelt at this spot more than 3 years ago. I was young, angry, and confused. I was searching for meaning, for a purpose for living, I had a lot of demons that hid in the darkness of my mind…demons that spawned from the nights that my father drank too much and came home and fiercely beat my mother and I. My demons had continued to grow, growing more twisted and violent after I had bashed my father’s brains in with a crowbar when I was ten and my mother had run off, leaving me all alone in the world.

I look down at the sand beneath me, feeling a tremendous weight pressing down on my shoulders. I had always been so angry…so filled with rage all the time…that I hadn’t stopped to realize the effect that the sins I had committed over the course of my life had on others. I didn’t regret having killed my father with my own bare hands…no, the drunkard had it coming. No…the sin that I felt bad for the most was having my mother killed my members of Salvation…

I had just been named the Dark Apprentice to Brenton Cyrus. I had finally achieved my goal of becoming the one who sat at the right hand of God and carried out his every whim. I had forsaken my friends, casting Ryan Apollos and his girlfriend Alexis Moon, off to the side much like a child will throw an old toy away in favor of a new one. I remember when my loyal Salvation followers brought my mother before me in chains, saying they had found her trying to infiltrate the city.

I close my eyes and remember the panicked look on her face as she struggled to free herself from her captivity. I remember the hint of desperation in her voice as she begged me to recognize her and forgive her for leaving me alone to fend for myself as a child. I remember the tears that welled up in the pit of her eye as she sobbed uncontrollably, pleading with me to forgive her and to show her the light of Salvation.

I slowly reach out and take a handful of sand in my right hand, feeling the weight of the sand shift ever so slightly in my palm. In my mind’s eye I see myself sitting on my throne in the Tower of the Dark Apprentice, self-righteousness coursing through my veins. I remember the anger, the bitter hatred I had carried with me throughout my childhood and into my adult years well up inside of me as I looked down at her tear streaked face. Suddenly, I hear the voice of my Salvation followers whispering to me, begin born the wind of time to, once again, force me to relive that day

Salvation follower
What should we do with her Lord Casey?

I whisper softly to the wind

Corey Casey
Kill her

The horrendous streak that had ripped forth from my mother as my followers had dragged her away force my eyes to fly open and my heart rate to skyrocket momentarily. She was an innocent in all of this…a pawn…she was like me, a victim suffering at the hands of a drunk abusive father and husband. She had the ability to save herself and she took it. She clearly knew I would be able to take care of myself…or she just didn’t care. Either way, without her abandoning me, I wouldn’t be the person I was today. Did she deserve to suffer for her crime? Did she deserve to suffer for abandoning her only child and allowing the streets of South Boston to raise her son in her stead?

Maybe

But did she deserve to die? Did she deserve to be put to death by her own son?

No

I bring the handful of sand up to my lips, holding it a mere inch away from my mouth. I cup my hands, allowing the sand to sit in the crevice formed by my two hands touching. I whisper softly to the sand

Corey Casey
I’m sorry…please…forgive me

As soon as I finish whispering my plea for forgiveness, I stand up and throw the sand into the air. The wind suddenly picks up and blows the sand around for a few moments before the small pieces of gravel and dirt are carried away by the strong wind. I close my eyes, allowing myself to soak in the symbolism of the gesture for a few moments, before slowly opening my eyes and turning my attention to the ruins of the city waiting for me in the middle of the wasteland. I reach into my pocket and remove the letter than had been waiting for me in my dressing room after the press conference. I unfold the letter and read the instructions once again, just to make sure