"The Man Who Sold The World." — Character Development.

[Mav.]

[ CONTENT WARNING: DRUG USAGE, DESCRIPTIONS OF SUICIDE, PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. ]

'Cause I've died inside a thousand times
But still I'd kill myself for you
'Cause the truth of it, you could slit my wrists
And I'd write your name in a heart with the hemorrhage
— “Die4U” by Bring Me The Horizon.

———

‘The forever champion.’

It seemed like a brilliant concept at first, it seemed like something that could stick and last for a long time, because that's all that Jason could ask for as a champion. To fight forever. To fight until his dying breath. To live until the championship was ripped from his bare hands. It seemed like it could go on forever. It was meant to be forever. But now? Forever seemed like an impossibility. Forever seemed like it was never meant to be. A dream lasting forever was never going to happen—and they made sure that was never going to happen. All of this truly felt like the fall of a king and the rise of an axis power that didn’t seem to be soon stopping. But that's what they wanted. That's what they sought out for. To be that axis power that ruled over the land, and like the great leader back in the 1940's? He conquered and he ruled. Power over everyone.

He was a controller. Tear down the walls and let everyone become his victims. That– he made sure was a possibility. With Bloodbath coming to a close, to an end, to a screeching halt— there was nothing left of Fallout. There was nothing left of the brand that Jason Long once held onto with great pride and leadership. All that was left was a supposed true society, a new bringing to what human life was drawn out to be, and if he couldn't hold the crown against those with the first shot fired– then what purpose did he really have? What was he meant to do? What was his next motive? The next line of fire, what was it meant to be with nothing to fall back on? All that was left with Jason was emptied words, hollowed promises, and a void of darkness. A deep, dark void that has hovered over his head for a while now since Bloodbath. And it’s all because of him. Arik Holt.

It's been a couple of days since Jason has been seen — or even heard from — and the days since Bloodbath have passed has taken a heavy toll on him. Both physically and mentally. OWA's Hardcore Havoc did not go as intended. Bloodbath didn't go as intended either. All of the hope that was once there within him? Gone. Forgotten. Left abandoned without a chance of ever coming back. Finding himself inside of a bar within the city of Philadelphia, a seat taken at the table that Jason shares with only himself with a drink in his hand as he goes for a mouthful but soon contemplating it– stopping for a moment before putting the drink back down onto the table. At that moment, he felt sorry. He felt disgusted with himself. Only a few hours ago, an argument broke out between himself and Savannah. An argument that he clearly wishes to forget ever happened. Not because of how 'out of hand' it got, not because of how 'small' it was, but because of what it really made him see. A different side to himself. Because at that moment, he thought about him. He thought about Arik. How much he wanted to beat him down, how much he wanted to abuse him, willing to do jail time for the pain and the suffering that he has brought onto Jason and those around him.

And what hurts now is Jason’s choice of actions. Turning to the drink. Using alcohol as an excuse to forget. The past year has been tough on him. Though he won't admit to it because he wanted to seem like the person that's living the perfect life— his mental health has been shot down and broken so many times. That question of how much longer must he suffer for seemed like it popped up every wrong turn that was taken. Was this the road he was going to take? Was this a road he had to take? Did life send him down a deep, dark road of despair and depression? Feeling like he's at rock bottom. Feeling like there's nothing left. The world has become emptied. Gone mad. All because he fucked up. Not once, not twice, but so many times. Might have lost count after a while. And now he looks at himself and sees himself, from the past however as he reminds himself of how he was when he was first diagnosed with depression and anxiety. Feels like a rewind through time.

Right back where he started fourteen years ago. And that was a tough reality to soak in.

“Hey,” a voice broke his focus.

As he lifted his head up, he spotted this man. Tall, slim-built, dark hair. Looked like your average everyday white man in their twenties. There wasn't really much to him, there wasn't anything that Jason had for him, as he simply shrugged him off. The man didn't move however and took a seat right across from Jason -- just to make sure that he had his space.

"The fuck do you want, mate?" Jason questioned, his tone raised.

Aggression was turned to the max as his teeth gritted with one another. But with one look at the man's face, he notices the mistake he made. Noticing the problem he might have caused. At that moment, all he could feel was apologetic but even then– he couldn't.

"Hey now, relax. I'm just one of the barmen here. Came to see if you're doing good or not, a colleague of mine noticed you weren't looking too great and then I saw it too. Looked like you were zoned out for a good five or more minutes," a pause. "Is everything alright with you? Do you need us to phone for a ride home—"

“Nah, mate. You’re good.” he said. “I’m not from here locally, and besides- this is my first drink of the night. I promise you, I ain’t worth the trouble. I’ve just had a rough day and all that, it’s nothing.”

Though the man thought of moving along with his night, he stops for a moment and sits right back down to where he was. Jason, however, takes a gulp from his pint glass of alcohol. That bitter taste is left on his lips as he brings the glass back down onto the table, licking his lips as he looks at the man with a bit of confusion.

“Would you like to talk about it?” he questioned.

“I’d rather not. Like really, it’s not worth the conversation—”

The man soon interrupted, “-but please, I’m all ears. The night is young and I’m not too busy to get to know someone new. Let’s talk, throw in your two cents on anything, and we can talk about it.”

There’s a moment of silence, a moment of a pause, as Jason glanced towards the man and then back down to the watch on his wrist. The night was indeed young -- quarter-past nine to be exact -- and Jason had almost a full pint in front of him. He had time. Though having to listen to a random stranger about throwing in his own two cents on any matter seemed like bait. He knew that'll be a way for Jason to talk. At this rate, Jason just gave up trying to dodge any kind of conversation.

“Look, mate. I’m just trying my best to enjoy a drink that I’ve needed considering the kind of fuckin’ day I’ve had,” he exclaimed, standing back up and looking down onto the man. "If you don't back the fuck off away from me soon, I will knock your arse down onto the floor and let me tell you, we're going to find out which hits harder. Your head bouncing off the wooden floor or the foot of the paramedics hitting the pedal and going fuckin' ninety down a highway because I've put you HOOKED UP TO AN IV LINE AND BEATEN YOU TO A BLOODIED FUCKIN' PULP."

His voice echoed throughout the entirety of the bar, everyone inside of there was able to hear the sudden outburst from Jason, and they all stared at him. They continued to stare a hole into him – like literal daggers being pointed right at his neck – and at that moment, he felt uncomfortable. He felt sick to his stomach.

"I think you should leave these premises right now, sir." The man soon stood up, coming eye level with Jason and staring right into his soul. Not taking too kindly to the threat that was opposed towards him. "You've caused quite enough of a scene. I would like for you to leave right now. Please, just leave and never come back."

The tense look in the eyes of the man as he points towards the door gives Jason a chill down his spine, and although his blood was beginning to boil on the inside, and his grip around the pint glass was getting tighter— he places the glass down onto the table and grabs his jacket, heading out of the bar and back onto the streets of Philadelphia. The night life around the streets of Philadelphia was loud, vibrant, and seemingly out of control as some of the young bystanders were around for their parties and drinks. All that Jason could do was watch from the distance, taking a deep inhale before moving along down the sidewalk. This time that he had to himself gave him a clearer mind to think about his actions throughout the day as he strolled through a nearby car park and headed for his Audi R8 vehicle, it seemed to have been made more clearer that he was in the wrong all of these times.

To think that he was in the wrong with his argument earlier with Savannah, it seemed pretty damning. Considering that the conversation was almost based around her liking towards Arik Holt, it made him wonder if he was doing enough to keep her interested. Was anything that he did enough to keep her entertained and interested with him or was someone like Arik looking to prove to have been more interesting? Hell, what did she see in someone like him? What did she see in someone like Arik - who had already attempted murder on someone she called ‘her lover’ - and what was not clicking in Jason’s mind that she could see herself? All of this could have been easily described as jealousy but at the same time— something just wasn’t adding up and something just wasn’t right about any - or even all - of this. Something wasn’t right. And he needed to find out what was going on.

As Jason opened the car door and hopped into the driver’s seat, shutting the door behind him and looking out of the windshield in front of him, he took a deep breath and placed his hands down onto the steering wheel. And all he did whilst he sat in the car, in this darkened alley with very little to no lighting except for the light that came from the dashboard of the car, was sit there in silence and darkness. There wasn’t a thought running through his head, there wasn’t a single thing that he was focused on, and his phone rested face down on the dashboard. No way of contact, no way of finding any kind of update on his current situation. He didn’t want to check in on Savannah, he didn’t want to annoy her during her time of despair and sorrow, and he didn’t want to put further damage onto what was already there after earlier events. And that began to hurt him internally. Not physically, but mentally.

Though he might not feel it yet, his mental health was about to hit a rough decline. The engine of the car soon started as he turned the key, his foot pushed down on the pedal as the car’s engine revved up, and Jason pulled out from the car park, bringing him out onto the streets of Philadelphia before cruising down the main streets as he headed for home.

Alone.

Ring-ring, phone call from depression
You used my past and my memories as a weapon
On the other line, I talk to addiction, huh
Speaking of the devil, all the drugs, I miss them
— “Wishing Well” by Juice WRLD.

———

For the most part, it’s been a day or two since Jason was last seen by anyone. All of this time that he has spent inside of The King’s Penthouse and keeping himself away from any kind of civilization, the only people that would come to check on him were those who’d be on security at his front gate at the bottom of the hill, making sure that he was alright and alive as again— it was another day of keeping himself away from anyone. As he threw a small chunk of wood that he chopped up and threw into the fire that burned in the living room quarters of the penthouse, he could feel a presence nearby. He could feel something — or maybe even someone — behind him. A quick glance as he turned his head around gave him a sigh of relief, nobody seemed to have been behind him at all. Though that couldn’t have been, he thought he heard something behind him. Maybe he might have been imagining things. Spending all of this time alone was bound to begin messing with his mind once again.

He’s not heard from Savannah in a few days, but he has been keeping up with her tweets that she has been putting out every so often, and some of them just seem to piss him off every single time. Then again, maybe that’s what she thought of doing. Making all of these tweets to grab his attention and to try and make his blood boil a little, it’s like she knew what she was doing to try and get under his skin. And it damn sure worked. Just yesterday, he had thrown the ring that she had bought him for his birthday into the bin. Everything between the two seemed like a promise broken, something unfaithful was happening and Jason didn’t like it one bit. Even if it has been a couple of days since then, Jason just can’t seem to wrap his head around how any of this happened. He can’t wrap his head around the whole concept of her and this psychopath that she could somehow see something good in.

The whole concept seems so out of place, but yet, it’s real and it’s happening right in front of his very own eyes— but he does nothing to stop it, maybe he waits and see what comes from any of this, to see if this was just a wonderfully and yet horribly executed plan for payback and revenge or — in some worse case scenario that comes out of this — something more, and something to jeopardize everything that Jason and Savannah once had together.

And that was crushing him on the inside.

Jason hovered over his favourite chair, that same leather recliner chair that most people commonly see in his vignettes where he’s seated, and right beside that chair was a small table with a bottle of Jack Daniels with a glass half emptied. Right beside that bottle however? A small bottle of paracetamol, knocked over and almost emptied. He let out a sigh before turning his body around and falling right back down into the chair, his arms flailing up into the air before dropping back down onto the arms of the chair. Defeat has never felt like this before. Defeat was never taken so for granted like this before. There’s something not right about Jason. Then again, can anyone blame him for the past twelve months that he had? He had to fight to take his life back, he had to endure the murder of his own mother, enduring the final demon he had to fight against, and having to fight for some respect to be put onto his name. His mental health was already in a horrible state due to his past as a child, but this year has been the worst that it has been since he was sixteen, and nobody has had a clue what he’s been going through in his head.

He’s been bottling up all of his emotions for quite some time and when that bottle breaks? He’s taking it out on himself. Alcoholism, drug overdoses, suicide attempts. He’s been through it all for the past couple of months. But with everything happening to him right now, it feels as if everything has hit him like a truck once again and that bottle with all of those emotions he’s had? It’s broken once again.

It’s kind of like a play on that old saying. ‘When a bottle breaks, another bottle opens.’ And the almost emptied bottle of paracetamol is the perfect kind of example as he picks up the small white bottle, examining the labels and reading the recommended doses that should be taken. ‘Two pills to be taken every six hours’, but he’s damn sure that he’s taken more than that within the past four. And that makes him laugh. Almost sadistically. But he’s soon interrupted with the sound of the front door opening, making him stop laughing and watch the doorway out into the hall, hoping to see Savannah walk around the corner and find him in this horrible state that he’s succumbed to— but his smile soon turns to a frown, seeing his brother walk around the corner with Kit standing right behind him. The couple couldn’t believe their eyes, seeing everything had been wrecked and thrown around the place, but yet the only thing that seemed to have kept its place was the chair that Jason was sitting in right now.

“Are- are you alright?” Nathan shakenly questioned.

Nathan seemed to have been speechless seeing the state of the living room and Jason, as he took a few steps forward and observing the wreckage around the room and the rest of the home, none of this was right and none of this was natural. This wasn’t normal for Jason. But neither were aware of the situation that happened a few days prior, they couldn’t have understood what was going through Jason’s mind at this moment. Nathan and Kit looked to one another with concern resting on their faces, whilst Jason was just sitting in the chair and hadn’t moved an inch. He hadn’t even answered Nathan’s question yet. But sweat was beginning to pour down his face, it’s like his nerves had kicked in.

Nathan soon came around to the side of Jason’s chair, the distance between one another was separated by the small table that was there, as he crouched down to be head level with Jason in the chair. In that moment that Nathan was levelled with Jason, he took notice of what was on the table. Seeing the half-emptied glass of Jack Daniels in front of him, seeing the opened bottle that was just resting there, and then bringing his attention down onto the last few pills of paracetamol that were left down on the silver tray. If he wasn’t shaken enough before, he is now. Nathan lifted his head up and looked towards Jason, seeing the sweat pouring down his face as he grabbed a cloth that rested on the other arm of the chair and wiped down his forehead.

“What the hell have you been doing to yourself, Jay?” again, he questioned.

Still startled by the scenes surrounding him and seeing the pills left down on the tray beside the bottle of Jack Daniels. Nathan looked up and saw Kit standing there by the fire, her hand — covered up by her oversized cardigan — was placed over her mouth as she soon started connecting the dots and realising what had been happening whilst nobody was around. This felt like a traumatic moment for the two, but Nathan has seen his brother in this state before, a very long time ago.

“Kit, can you please just wait outside for a moment please, I need to speak with him in private.”

She obliged, slowly creeping around all of the mess and bringing herself out of the home. And now it was just the two siblings left, alone and yet together again. “Talk to me, Jay. Please. I just wanna know what’s wrong, man. I’ve not seen you in such a horrible state since-- you know. Since we lost our grandparents. I had to make sure that you wouldn’t go down that road when mam died.”

“It’s not about her. I swear. I promise. If anything, she’s been the last of my many problems,” he exclaimed, taking a deep breath. “There’s just something… it’s just not sitting right with me. I just can’t bring myself to find out why. Been taking it out on everything except for that. Hell, been fuckin’ taking it out on myself because I feel like the problem, I feel like I’m causing too much to happen and I’m letting things fuck up somehow.”

Nathan brought his hand gently down onto Jason’s as his grip onto the leather got tighter.

“Take it easy, Jay. Slow down. Tell me what happened in your own time. You know that I’ll listen, I’ve been there for you when you’ve been in these moments of despair, just like how you were in mine.” Nathan soon pushes the table out of the way but he’s stopped, Jason grabs onto his arm with a firm, tight grip onto it. This wasn’t like Jason at all, this wasn’t the same kind of man that Nathan knew to be his brother, there’s something seriously wrong with him. “Jay, can you please let go? Like, you’re seriously hurting me now.” he spoke, trying to pull his arm away.

“Don’t take that away,” his response felt cold. There was no true tone to his voice, just a deadpan expression as he looked up to Nathan. “I wasn’t finished with the bottle.”

“I can’t let you finish that bottle, Jay. You’re going back down that road and I just can’t let you do that again, I can’t afford to see you walk down that road again.” There’s a tear slowly crawling down Nathan’s face, his voice soon beginning to stutter, and seemingly not able to grasp onto his own words “Not- No, not after the last time. I’m not looking to see my brother head into an early grave, for fuck- fuck sake.”

As he kept the grip on his brother’s arm, Jason pulled himself up to his feet, keeping his eyes focused on Nathan’s. He tries to pull away, becoming scared of the situation that he’s in right now, and fearing for his own safety along with Jason’s. Nathan began to try and yank his arm back and out of his grip but Jason just kept a hold of him, looking shaken and in a horrible state, as he continues to pull himself in closer towards Nathan--but he soon had enough and pushes Jason back down into the chair, almost making him fall out of it from the force of the push. Almost like a state of shock, Nathan is left with his mouth widened. He wasn’t expecting Jason to be so easily taken down like how he was.

Jason was able to pick himself back up and brush himself down, looking towards Nathan before grabbing onto the bottle of Jack Daniels, glancing over towards his brother and then back down at the bottle. It was like he was examining it, almost juggling it in his hands and then grabbing onto it's neck. But there's something about the look in his eyes, there's something about the look that he's got that makes Nathan feel uneasy. There's almost like a half-smile, slowly creeping into the shape of an evil smirk, that makes Nathan take a step back. That makes him become almost frozen in place. It's like he wasn't staring at his brother. It was like he was someone else. Maybe it was the alcohol that was making him act this way. Maybe it might have been the paracetamol that could have taken some sort of effect.

But in a flash, he could feel the edge of the bottle colliding with his forehead. Almost cracking the bottle open, but enough to cut into his skin. Nathan - taking the full effect of the blunt force trauma - collapses onto the floor in an instant as his head bounces off of the wooden flooring below. Jason had struck his own brother in such a sickening fashion, but yet it's not clicked into his head just yet, it's like he has no clue what he has just done to his own flesh and blood. Kit rushes into the room and finds her lover laid out onto the floor, blood pouring down from where he was struck but he soon shakes it off and in that moment, he leaps back onto his feet and tackles Jason. The two engage into a fight. Throwing punches at one another, rolling around onto the floor to gain the upper advantage, and Kit could only stand there and watch as they beat one another to a bloody pulp.

Jason tries to reach for the bottle but Nathan kicks it away, and that's when Jason is able to get the upper-hand and sweep the legs of his brother. Knocked back down onto the floor again, Nathan has become helpless as Jason mounts and begins to lay down the punches. Punch after punch, his knuckles became bloodied, from both his and his brother’s. They became bruised. If he continues on, bones might begin to break. Nathan isn't isn't covering up, taking every single hit to the face as Jason begins to scream with rage, but he's soon pulled off by Kit- almost tackling him down to make sure that Nathan is safe. It's at that exact moment that Jason finally comes to his senses and looks down at what he has just caused. It's almost like a state of shock. Seeing his own brother looking completely defeated and beaten due to his own heinous - but yet uncontrolled - acts. He couldn’t feel any more disgusted with himself than how he is right now. He couldn’t feel anymore disturbed with how much he carried on and attempted to maim or even kill his own brother. None of this should be real, none of this should have happened, but it did and now the instant regret is hovering over Jason’s head.

Kit grabbed onto Nathan and began to help him back up to his feet, he’s still shaken up with blood in his eyes as Kit wipes it away so he could see. The two brothers stare at one another, blood all over them and on their clothes, as Kit stands between the two to make sure that they won't swing for one another again.

"Whatever was said, whatever happened, I don't know exactly–" she pauses, glancing at both men. "But I'm sure that it shouldn't have escalated to the case that it was. And you, Jason." Pointing towards his direction, poking him in the chest. "Don't you understand what you've caused? Beating down your brother like that and nor even thinking for a second to stop and allow it to soak in that what you're doing was wrong? What the heck is wrong with you? Bottles of whiskey, medication laying all over the place, the house in a shambles. I don't know what happened between you and Savannah but this is not right. Taking it out on someone else isn't right."

It was bad enough that Jason was already feeling guilty for it, but being told that it wasn’t right was hurting in a different kind of way, knowing that others had to see it happen before their very own eyes was a tough challenge. Even hearing Savannah’s name right now is making him feel weak. What if she had seen him in this state? What could that have proven to her? What could any of this have proven to her? That he had become an entirely different person? Turned to a more violent and abusive kind of man? She wouldn’t have needed that. Something like that would have kept her away from him longer, if not forever.

"You need to fix yourself up. Imagine if Savannah was going to walk through those doors right now and see you in the state that you're in right now?" She questioned but all she got in response was silence, his head lowering in shame. "That's what I thought. Just know that the next time you try to have a breakdown like this."

Nathan stood there, blood still pouring from his wound as he constantly stumbled around to keep his balance on his feet, only to find himself leaning over Kit to make sure he’s got his balance. The entire time, he did not take his eye off of his brother. His teeth began to grind against one another, heavy breathing through his nose as he fought through the pain he’s feeling right now.

"You're a fucking asshole. Here I am trying to take the bottle away from you and you decided to clock me over the fucking head with it. Like some sick bastard you are, attacking me when I wasn't expecting it. You're a fucking coward, that's that's you are." Nathan stumbled forward. "Is that who you are now? A fucking coward? A fucking lowlife scumbag? A fucking drugged up bitch that's hiding his emotions?"

"Nathan, please. Stop it." Kit calmly spoke, putting her hand to his chest.

His glance towards Kit is damning. If she thought that’s all he had on his chest, then she was going to be in for quite the shock. All of the pent-up anger from the past eleven months was about to break out in a storm. All of the fire that’s been burning deep within his heart was about to ignite a fire right underneath his own brother. And at this rate, he couldn’t care less how far he would have to go with his words. He meant every single word he spoke.

"It's because of people like you that our own mother is dead. Hell, it's because of you that she's dead." Jason is taken back by the comment. Nathan stares right into his eyes with a stern look. "And honestly, I'd rather have her here than you. Maybe you should have taken the hit instead of her."

"I said stop! Just stop it! Let it go, you've done enough talking." She said as she pushed him away from Jason. "Let's just go home. We've overstayed our visit long enough."

"Yeah. You're right. But that's fine. We're never coming back here again. Fucking asshole of a brother he is—"

"ENOUGH!" her voice raised as she pointed towards the front door.

That’s all he needed to hear from her to finally keep his mouth shut. Of course, he knew how far he was going to be taking things, he knew how much it would’ve hurted Jason, he knew how much those words would’ve impacted him deeply. That was the whole point of it. Kit and Nathan soon walked out of the home, shutting the door behind them and then? Silence. Nothing but the deafening silence as Jason stood there, still being taken aback from the comments that Nathan made, as his hand reached towards his chest and was placed where his heart was. Was this a form of heartbreak? Knowing that you’ve been completely disowned by your own family, your own flesh and blood, by your own brother?

A singular tear soon began to fall down from Jason’s face, down onto the floor below, as he soon fell right back into his chair - now with the additional blood stains from the fight - as he just sat there in silence. With more tears running down his face. Nathan might not have won that fight physically, he might not have won that fight through pure emotion, but he won the fight against him mentally. If there’s one way that Nathan knew how to win his fight with him, it was through his already declining mental state of mind. It felt like a cheap shot, a low blow, a knife lunged into his back.

Jason stood back up and walked through the carnage of his living room and out to the hall, from there he moved towards the bathroom right across from the master bedroom, entering and staring at himself in the mirror. His shirt is a bloodied mess, something that he quickly removes upon seeing how rough it looked. As he spat into the sink below, he took a look down onto his hands. The obvious bruising can be seen and so can the blood from Nathan, something that he is quick to wash off with the running cold water from the tap. It’s like he can’t stand to see himself in the state that he’s in right now. But it’s he who brought this onto himself. The attempted suicide, the out of control behaviour, the traumatised aftermath. All of this was caused by himself. He has nobody to blame but himself.

As he glances up towards the mirror, he looks directly into his own reflection. In his mind, he’s telling himself to punch the mirror because he doesn’t want to see himself in such a state. His right hand is gripped down onto the side of the sink, the grip getting tighter as his mind continues to tell him what to do. But he soon pushes himself back against the wall. Again, more tears began to fall from his eyes. His breathing began to turn heavier again. And then, he falls down onto the floor, sliding down the wall and finding himself in a fetal position on the bathroom floor. Those droplets of tears turned into a full-on crying session. It’s all hitting him at once.

All he could feel right now is regret. All of the regret for how he treated Savannah poorly. All of the regret of treating his brother the way he did. All of the regret of not being able to save his mother like Nathan brought up. Regret for all of the wrongdoings that he’s had in the past eleven months. Regret for everything that’s ever happened within his life span. After all, everything was his to blame for. Everything was because of Jason. Everything was because of him. All of this would never have happened if it weren’t for him existing. Blaming himself for every single wrong in his life is such a tough pile to put onto yourself, but Jason was able to feel exactly that, and now he’s trapped. His head is filled with dark thoughts. A mind filled with problematic voices telling himself the same thing over and over again. Maybe he should have finished the job when he was sixteen, maybe he should have finished the job when he was twenty-one, maybe he should have finished the job a couple of months ago.

Maybe he should finish the job tonight.

Start with misdemeanors and we'll make a business out of them
And we can find out the information access all the applications
That are hardening positions based on miscommunication
Oh, fuck your feelings, truth is only hearsay
We're just left to decay, modernity has failed us
— “Love It If We Made It” by The 1975.

———

How much more did he have left in the tank to continue?

For once, this question doesn’t apply to his career but to his life. For once, the lifestyle that he’s living as a professional wrestler and what people see on the cameras and on the shows is gone. Completely wiped away. The slate is cleaned. There’s nothing left for him right now. All that’s left is just a broken down man on the verge of life and death. All that’s left is a man who contemplates if living is worth the risks that comes with life anymore. All that’s left is a man who has nothing left to lose and nothing more to gain. After all, considering what had happened earlier in the day between himself and his own brother, was anything worth it after being disowned by your own family member as they hoped you bit the bullet and not someone else? Was anything really worth it at that point?

He should’ve done it when he had the chance, he should have done it when he had the moment right there, right in front of him. Just so he could have proved his point to be right? Would it have really proved his point to be right? A deal with the devil to make sure that everything is reversed would feel so good right now, having his life to be taken away from him and to have his mother’s life be brought back so she could live out the rest of hers with her family. Her husband, her son, her daughter. It would make everything in the world right again. And the sacrifice would have been worth it. He’d do anything to have her back. He’d do anything to bring her back to life.

Jason hadn’t moved from the bathroom since walking in the first time and finding himself crouched down into the fetal position that he’s in right now, the day had turned to night and Jason had finally awoken from the deep sleep he was in. He woke up in a daze, completely left confused about how he had even gotten to the bathroom. As he brought himself up to his feet, he felt heavily unbalanced, and staggering out of the bathroom. There’s a sharp pain right near his liver, placing his hand down onto where the sharp pain resided, it was like a knife being lunged into his body, and even then - as he looked down to where he pain was - he noticed the scarring from his attack with Arik only a few months ago. The knife lunged right below his liver and it was odd feeling that pain in his liver -- but then again, that might have been from the copious amounts of paracetamol that he had took earlier in the morning before being downed with however many glasses of Jack Daniels he had -- as he tried to crawl his way towards the bedroom, slowly making his way inside and stumbling over onto the bed. Jason laid there and rested, still feeling that sharp pain in his liver, before rolling over down onto his back and looking upward toward the ceiling. Through the skylight, seeing the stars amongst the night sky, and expecting the worst to come.

Hell, he should make it quick before going out like how it’s planning to be right now. Make it quick and painless, not slowly dying and watching the night sky fade to black and ending things all alone. He stood back up onto his feet and fought through the pain as he walked from his bedroom to his office up the stairs, multiple times it felt like he was about to lose his balance and fall all the way back down the stairs but he kept himself on his feet and made it all the way up to the top, reaching the office and closing the door right behind him. Jason continued to stumble forward, finding himself resting along the desk and almost knocking off all of the monitors that rested down on it. From there, he reached down into a drawer and pulled out a pocket knife - a switchblade to be exact - and now it all made sense. The knife that was given to him by his brother as a birthday present, to try and repeat the same process as to how his mother died, right after a fight that escalated to wishing for his death and her survival? The dots just seemingly connected one by one. Maybe this was how it was supposed to go.

All he had to do was to repeat the process that he-- that thing repeated on that fateful night in Sapporo. Nineteen stab wounds right into his abdomen, letting the blood flow from the wounds and nobody being able to stop him. This is what he wanted after all. To see him go out like this. This is exactly what he would have wanted— he can’t. He just can’t do it. He just can't bring himself to do it. His shirt is pulled up, he's got the switchblade pointed down onto his stomach, and he's gently pressing it against his skin. But he just can't do it. He just can't.

“Good evening, Jason.” the voice called out, echoing throughout the home.

He leaped up from his chair, holding the switchblade in his hands as he looked to attack whoever it was that spoke, but then he could hear the footsteps behind him. As he quickly turned around and found himself staring at someone he never thought to have been real. Persephone Bane. An evil grin rested on her face as she took a few steps forward, Jason - trembling in fear upon seeing her in the flesh - is absolutely frozen in place. He had only known her from what Savannah had told him, of what she's capable of doing, of what she can do and must do in order to thrive in such a world. Persephone comes face to face with Jason, keeping a smile on her face as she brings her hand up close to his face.

“We have to say,” she pauses as she chooses her words wisely. “You look much better in person without having to see through another person’s eyes. We thought it might have been Savannah’s love for such eye candy like you but now? We can see why she acts the way she does around you. We can see now why she craves you like how she does. You poor thing, having to put up with her.”

“I- You’re not- You’re not who I think you are, right?” She could hear the trembling fear in his voice, and all she could do was feast on that fear, consuming every bit of that fear and chuckling to herself. “How in the hell can I see you? How in the hell can I feel you? What the fuck are you even doing here? You’re—no. You’re not real. I just know you’re not. I’m certain you’re not real.”

“We’re not real?” she lets out a light laugh. “Hilarious you must think that considering, you know, Savannah thought the same exact thing for over two years and now look at her, she’s succumbed to her own fears, she’s allowed us to roam freely whenever we liked. But don’t worry, close your eyes and keep repeating those words. We love when you begin to fear me. We love just eating it all up and making us feel just a little bit stronger. Makes us feel pleased, if you will.”

“No- No, I knew you were real I’ve just- you know, never seen you in person. I’ve only heard of you. I didn’t really know you had an entire body like what you have right now. My whole vision of you was this demon that only Savannah could see or even hear.”

Of course, all of this seemed so comical to think about. To be able to see a demon that you only believed to have been inside of someone’s mind come to life, it was like a walking and living nightmare being pulled out of your dreams and staring you right in your face. If he could slap himself, he would, just to see if this was all a dream but he can’t. His arms still feel frozen in place. She presses her index finger against his lips before sneaking a small kiss from right under his nose, giggling to herself before placing her finger right back onto his lips.

“Hush. We really don’t like it when our foo- Our dearest friend talks too much than they need to,” placing her hand down onto his abdomen area, pulling up his shirt and seeing the slight scratch of where the switchblade grazed the skin. “You poor thing, what have you been doing to yourself? Is this what you people call ‘self-harm’, huh? We’ve never truly understood it at all. Having to deal with all of the pain and then opting to take the easy way out of things before giving up just before doing so.”

With a heavy shove, Jason pushes Persephone away from him, almost sending her across the room.

“You’d never understand it. You’ll never understand the pain that I’ve been through—”

“Your mother passed away during a ‘match’ of yours and you’ve been blaming it all on yourself because everytime you remember that specific match, all you can think about is you pushing and twisting the blade into your mother’s stomach due to this alternate universe version of you taking control of your life and fighting to the death to take claim to this world.” Persephone sees the shocked look on Jason’s face, giving her a smile. “And since then, you’ve continued to grieve and regret ever having her near that place, or even having her in close proximity to him. The demon that you cannot release yourself even if you’ve promised Savannah that he’d never return no matter what the situation is that you’re in. And what she doesn’t know is that there’s a box hidden in this room with his ashes locked away.”

Colour drained from his face. Standing there, in absolute disbelief, and just unable to process anything inside of his mind. There’s just no way that she could have known about any of this by herself, there’s no way that she could just have known about what’s inside of the box - or even know about the box in general - but she so casually mentioned it with ease. Like it was something to brush off to the side. His jaw is completely dropped as he picks it back up to question Persephone.

“How in the fuck did you know all of that—”

“You clearly have forgotten that we are one in the same with Savannah, meaning we hear every single conversation and know every little secret of yours, even when you know that Savannah isn’t looking or nearby. Your secrets are known to us, we could easily tell Savannah at any time about what you’ve been hiding from her, but we feel as if that’s something that the two of you should discuss. Not our problem. We’re aware that inside of the box is an entity, your own demon to be exact - and a former war criminal that’s travelled throughout the reaches of time and space - that’s just waiting to be released. How many times have you contemplated releasing that thing out into the wild, Jason?”

“None. I kept my word to my deceased mother that he’ll never be released again.” he exclaimed.

“But you’ve thought about it recently when you couldn’t take down True Society by yourself after declaring such an impactful speech about being ‘The King’ and yet falling to someone that’s your mentor.”

In such a quick movement, Jason grabs a hold of Persephone by the throat and begins tightening his grip around her neck, watching her struggle to breathe as she begins to kick Jason with her feet. It’s just like before, he’s seeing red and he’s become a loose cannon, uncontrollable and determined to cause and inflict pain on whoever might stand in front of his way. Persephone begins trying to swing for Jason to hopefully get him to release the grip around her neck as he starts pushing her back and back and back before she hits the bookcase right behind her. Her face was turning purple. The grip around her neck was getting even tighter. She’s clearly unable to breathe.

“If I were you, I’d watch that fuckin’ mouth of yours. I don’t care who the fuck you are, I will kill you right where you stand—”

For just a blink of a second, Persephone’s whole look changes and now? His hand is wrapped around Savannah’s neck, choking the life out of her and leaving her unable to breathe, which leaves him to release the grip around her neck and watch her drop onto the floor. It’s just not possible that he’s been choking Savannah. There’s no way that he’s been seeing Persephone this whole time and not seeing it as Savannah. His eyes began to water up and ready to burst out into tears knowing that he’s after hurting her. His bottom lip began to quiver in sorrow.

But then, he glances down onto the floor again. And he can hear her laughing.

It was all just a mind trick from Persephone, and by the looks of things, she’s totally fine. She laughs right in the face of Jason knowing that she had tricked him into thinking he’d ever hurt Savannah. There’s something disturbing knowing that she simply found his true weakness within seconds. Maybe this really wasn’t just some random person in Savannah's mind, but an actual demon coming to haunt her and now Jason, that’s when he scrambles onto the floor and grabs onto the switchblade. Persephone continues to laugh as Jason charges in and swings for her— but she simply dodges out of the way and sends Jason flying into the book shelf. He crashes into the wall, collapsing down onto the floor and - during all of this - feels the blade slice into his leg as he drops onto the floor. Persephone hovers over him, keeping that wicked smile on her face as she does.

“We’re not going to take the threat of a man that’s too afraid to take his own life, never mind taking the life of someone like us. We’re not even a living being, we’re just a vision in your own mind that you can see right in front of you. We might feel real but pushing us? Poking us with a blade? Whatever your next move is? We cannot feel a thing.” She chuckles. “You’re getting all worked up over nothing, Jason. You’re weak, that’s how it’ll forever be at the end of the day. Just do the right thing and take your brother’s advice. Land the blade into your stomach. Finish what you couldn’t do earlier, Jason. And maybe then, you might see your mother once again.”

She just had to go there. But then again, what could he do right now? Everything in his body continues to hurt. Between his head, to his liver, and to his leg — he felt helpless, no hope left inside of him, and all he could do was to watch and listen to everything that she had to say.

“Savannah is never coming back, Jason, no matter how hard you want to believe that she is. She’s moved on, that ring that she’s got wrapped around her finger? It’s gone, removed, just like how you did with yours. Moved onto that one man you hated with all of your life, she’s moved on and gone for Arik Holt.” Persephone can begin to see the blood beginning to boil in Jason’s veins. His anger slowly builds up as he takes a deep breath. “And to think, she was going to marry you and she was wanting to have her first child with you, Jason. Now? She’s moved on because of you being the narcissistic imbecile that you are. All because you decided to become that kind of man and pretend that everything is alright and you cannot be touched. Your ego was way too big to see the signs, weren’t they? We saw them a long time ago. And now you stand there, hands curled up into the shape of fists, and you want to hit us.”

His right hand was curled up into the shape of a fist, looking to make one major swing for her, but he soon dropped his hand back down onto the floor. All of this has made Jason finally give up and finally give into what Persephone has been asking for all of this time. For violence. For murder. For the kill. As he reached over for the switchblade, he could feel her hand down on his ankle, glancing over and seeing Persephone crouched down and looking at Jason directly into his eyes. They stare at one another for just a moment, he begins to get lost in her eyes, it was like staring right at Savannah’s eyes.

“How about you do what is right and put an end to this horrible life of yours, and in return, we’ll return your mother from her grave. That’s all you have to do, Jason, is to just finish what was started. We’re willing to give you - and your entire family - what they’ve all wished for since she passed.”

To sacrifice his own life to bring back hers, was this really the choice that he wanted to stick with? It was something that he had thought about earlier, if this was the right thing to do. After all, that’s what he’d do to bring her back. Risking his own life to save hers one more time. But was Persephone telling the truth? Was any of this real? Was she real? There’s no telling if this is real until he attempts it.

“Just do it, Jason. One large swing right into your abdomen.”

She might be onto something and that’s what keeps him interested. The more he stared into her eyes, the more that it seemed so convincing, and the more he wanted to try and find out the answer. This was for his mother, this was to bring her back, this was to restore peace into this world again, to write all of his wrongs within the past year. Everything can be fixed with just one swing into his stomach. And if she wanted to, she could twist the blade and complete what must be done.

“Just like how he did it.”

This was the only chance he had. Pointing the blade towards him and swinging down onto his stomach—

“JESUS FUCK, NO!”

Like a jump cut back into reality, Jason screams as he goes to drive the blade right into his stomach as he lets out a guttural scream but his hands were grabbed at the last second by someone, fighting with Jason to take the blade out of his hands. The man begins to slam Jason’s hands onto the floor and forces him to release the blade, before sliding it across the floor and across the room. Jason screams for dear life, begging for the blade to be given back to him, and uttering out something else that’s hard to understand. Tears fell from his face as Jason laid on the floor and slamming his fists down in anger, the one chance he had to bring back his mother was gone, and it was stopped just when he came so close to making it happen. But soon, he slowly began to come back to normal. The cut on his leg was gone. The bruised head was gone. The pain in his liver was gone. It was like he had fallen into a trance of some kind, a dark vision of someone’s uncontrolled mind, walked through a nightmare and was able to survive.

Jason is helped up to his feet and he finds himself falling back into his chair, glancing up and seeing Michael Bishop standing there, with a concerned look on his face as he places his hand down onto Jason’s shoulder. He turned his head to look towards the door to his office, it’s been completely ripped off of it’s hinges, and in that moment it seems like everything has clicked in his mind. Everything is beginning to make sense. Everything is coming to him again. And then he looks down onto his arms, turning them over and seeing the horrors of what he’s caused, seeing the scars of what was caused during that trance. Multiple slashes across his arms, right where the arteries would be, and the blood pumping out from the slashes. Michael also sees the slashes and rushes out of the room to run down the stairs and grab something to cover up his arms and stop the bleeding. There’s nothing like seeing your arms slashed in the way they are and knowing that you have no idea how long they’ve been like that. Jason felt himself become weak and his eyes began to close but he fought through it. A blink of his eyes as he looks out to the window of his office, and between his blinks? He could see Persephone standing on his balcony, waving at Jason with that same sinister smile of hers.

Michael runs back up the stairs with a set of bandages in his hands, grabbing onto the arms of Jason and wiping down the blood with some dry wipes before wrapping his arms up to cover up the scarring. Michael seems to be in such a panicked state that he doesn’t even open his mouth to Jason, he doesn’t even look up to him, he’s too focused on getting those bandages.

“Mike?” he softly spoke, just barely grabbing the attention of Michael as he lifted his head up. “I’m so sorry you had to find me like this, I have no idea what happened. I really have no idea what happened to me—”

“No need to explain, just be grateful I broke down that door before you fuckin’ offed yourself.”

If it is one thing to be grateful for, it’s that he’s still alive. Barely. Jason leaned his head back as Michael finished wrapping his arms up with the bandages that he had found. He was just left sitting there and left with his own thoughts to be filling up his head. Wondering how stupid he was to ever believe in Persephone Bane’s antics. Wondering how stupid he was to ever believe that she could have possibly brought back his own mother by sacrificing his own life. Jason felt stupid. And rightfully so. Michael grabbed onto Jason’s head and pulled him in close, it was like seeing a different side of Michael that he has never seen before, a different side of Michael he thought he would have never seen before.

“I don’t know what happened here today, but I promise you one thing, we will get you help. No matter what. That is a fuckin’ guarantee that I will bring to my grave, Jason. I will get you the help that you need.” he exclaimed, but holding back the emotion.

And in that moment, faith had been restored. The end to what was a horrible day has a bright side to it. The help that was promised was going to make sure that Jason was going to recover from this weekend of horror. And with his closest friends having his back, standing behind him like brothers in arms, he felt confident for what might have been the future. At the end of the day, this was never going to be a fight he can do alone. It was never going to be a fight that he could leave all to himself. He needed people to stand by his side. The people he could trust the most. The people he could rely on the most. And he will have those people by his side.

Forever.

Am I going crazy?
Would I even know?
Am I right back where I started fourteen years ago?
Wanna guess the ending? If it ever does
I swear to God that all I've ever wanted was
A little bit of everything, all of the time
A bit of everything, all of the time
Apathy's a tragedy, and boredom is a crime
I'm finished playing, and I'm staying inside
— “Goodbye” by Bo Burnham.

———

The past couple of days since losing to someone like Noah Hope was rough, the abuse that came afterward from online spectators were taking a harsh blow on everything he had, and even when he thought that things were soon cleared up and he was back on the right path again? It came crumbling back down once again. All of the advice that he had taken in to try and rebuild himself seemed like a distant memory, forgotten in his mind, and all he could think about was just one thing. Violence. That’s all he could hear repeating in his head over and over again, to bring back violence and take back what was his.

After all, the next ‘match’ of his would be the Purge Match. This would be a chance to take on the entirety of the Fallout roster and even some of the Proving Ground roster that are willing to show up and put on a performance that was worth fighting for their lives. But all that he could see in the listing of those that are meant to show up? It was just one name. It was just one person that stood out in front of everyone. That was the Prime Champion, Havoc. The man that took everything from him once again. The man that took everything he had left away from him in a heartbeat. And all he could think about was violence. The thought of revenge and payback for everything that he had done to him was hurting his mind, it was messing with him, leaving him with sleepless nights.

And all he could see was red. Blood red. And in his mind were visions— the visual of beating the hell out of Havoc left a creeping smile on his face as he sat in his office, looking towards the mirror that hung from the wall.

If that was what kept repeating in his mind, he could just begin to imagine what he was able to do to him in person if he could truly get his hands on him. But even then, the visuals in his mind seemed to have been out of a horror movie. Too detailed and graphic to even describe with words. Death couldn’t comprehend the true nature of Jason’s motive. Something has soon corrupted him. As he glanced over to the table right beside him, his attention was soon brought onto a small box that was opened. Etched into the small golden plaque on the side of the box were the words of ‘DO NOT OPEN’ and right underneath was the words of ‘INFINITY REALM CONFINEMENT’.

Jason knows what was inside of that box. Jason knows what was secured and hidden away from everyone - even Savannah - and now? All of those closed demons that he has held back for almost a year have finally been opened up, it was like Pandora’s Box being opened and the soul of what rested inside has been released onto this world. The entity that ruined Jason’s life has been released. The entity that murdered his mother. The entity that corrupted him for over a year and the entity that made him become a different kind of man that he once was. A man that would be unrecognisable due to his behaviour.

But in his mind, he asked himself one question. ‘If she could consume her demons, then why couldn’t he?’ All of the abuse, all of the lies, all of the deceit, and all of the pain has brought him to this moment— a moment that he hoped he would never have to turn to. A moment that he had hoped to have never come back to. Though, it’s too late. The world was soon to be corrupted with this entity once again. Jason had only hoped to use this for his own good, to use it for his own advantage, and to find a good meaning to this absorbent power he has to his arsenal.

This was the ending to his chapter, the ending of what he has been creating since his new beginning, and now everything feels like a return to form. Everything feels like it’s coming back together again. All of the pieces of the puzzle were creating the image of his past. Allowing him to become what he never wanted to become again. Allowing him to become a shadow of his former self. Becoming the maverick that he once lived to be.

It didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like something he had a choice in. His hand was forced to do something he might regret after some time. And he had hoped that no matter what would happen, people would understand why. People would understand his reasoning. People would understand what he had to do to save everyone and everything that he fought for on this brand, in this company, and for the world itself.

He had to become the man that sold the world.

—

—

—

Just so everyone else can be saved from this society.