Vanishing Point (Rumble RP 1)
Mar 30, 2024 12:49:35 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Dave D-Flipz, and 1 more like this
Post by Sam Sawyer on Mar 30, 2024 12:49:35 GMT -5
The silence is deafening. There's an overwhelming urge to fill it with something. Something more satisfying, more substantial, than the excited people and the music in the Ballroom. The only reason Sam isn't screaming their lungs out is the strength He gave them that some part of them is clinging to. That strength is deteriorating fast.
From the aisle, Sam watches Jack Diamond celebrate in the ring, protected by Jason Long and society's laws. He's grinning like it was just another day at his casino's office. The Icons don't notice Sam staring at them with a childishly dirty look. Sam wants to hurt them so badly their stomach feels weak with hunger. It wouldn't matter if He was watching, or even exists, nothing right now would give them greater joy.
But it's not the Icons that are the reason Sam failed Him. It's Sam. They trained as hard as they could have. They did everything right. But they're just not good enough. Poena and Jack were destined to become His Chosen. Sam wants His love with every fiber of their being, would walk to the end of the Earth to please Him, but they can't change destiny.
As the match went on, it gradually dawned on Sam that they were fighting a losing battle. Their body and mind were empowered with what felt like an unstoppable strength, given to them by Him, but they still had to hold up their end. Their training paid off to perfection: they kept up with the Icons and managed to be far more on point than they were ever previously capable. They threw themselves at Jack with the speed of a possessed baseball. If He Himself was in the ring with His precious Jack He wouldn't have been more motivated. But it wasn't enough, by roughly a dozen 2K points. The result didn't matter, but Jack wasn't just going to let Sam force feed him his medicine.
The noise washes over Sam like it's nothing. Not even all the stars in the sky outside could make up for His absence. They thought He loved them more than the rest. They thought they were special to Him. Now they know they're nothing but a pathetic failure. They had one chance and it's gone.
Their legs start taking them towards the exit. They don't know where they're going but they stomp the floor with a bitter purpose. Some of the people backstage are slow to move out of the way and get shoved aside.
?: Sam...
Like the others before, his concerned voice tries to see past the Sam in front of him, believing there's a good kid inside that's just been brainwashed. Sam barely notices him. Instead of a hotel or a crowd of onlookers all they see is a haze of their own muddled rage. They hate Him. They don't want to but they can't help it. No matter how hard they try to repress it, or hate themselves instead, they can't stop themselves. He abandoned them.
They storm through the doors into the warm Las Vegas night. They don't know what they're doing here but they keep going. He has taken over their brain so intensely there's no room for anything else. They just walk... and walk... looking straight through the groups of people laughing and pointing. They could be anywhere in the world. It takes one man's face to bring them to a sudden stop. Jack.
The confused man locks eyes with Sam. It takes Sam a few seconds to realize it's not him. They keep staring at him until his friends pull him away. Sam's chest heaves with quick, anxious breaths. Jack... He wanted him so much. He was supposed to be lying in a hospital bed tonight. They both would have been so happy. They thought it was their destiny to be in His arms. Something inside them breaks.
Sam: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!
They pierce the air with an almost incomprehensible shriek of agony.
Sam: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
Everything is silent now except for the traffic. Sam is blind to all the people staring at them.
Sam: Noooo......
Before long, somebody hails a taxi for them and helps them into it. Sam is barely aware of what's happening.
. . .
Driver: Sam! ... Sam!
Sam is curled up on the back seat. When they wake up they just ignore him.
Driver: We're here.
Sam closes their eyes, not even thinking to argue. They try not to think of Him, and the pain, and hope to fall asleep again. The driver gently pulls their arm.
Driver: Come on. It's on me. Just get out of my fucking cab, Sam.
He pulls harder and Sam comes to their senses a little.
Sam: Let me sleep...
Driver: We're at The Sands.
Sam ... I want to sleep here.
Driver: Can you pay for it?
Sam doesn't answer.
Driver: A hundred dollars an hour.
Again no answer.
Driver: Hello?
Sam: My card's in there.
Driver: Where?
Sam: The Sands.
Driver: Want me to go and get it?
Sam: Yeah.
The driver sighs and grabs their arm again. He tries to pull them out but they resist, so he grabs them around the waist and hoists them out. When he releases them they crumple to the ground.
The taxi speeds off. They try to fall asleep where they lie for a minute before deciding to get up. They start to move, forcing themselves to walk faster than they'd like so they can get to bed faster. They're more aware of the people looking at them now. Kinda nice distraction from things.
After they get their stuff, they book a room for the night.
. . .
It was the most comfortable bed they'd ever slept in. They laid there for hours after waking up. When they started to get hungry, they brought a box of chocolates and some bread and water to bedside so they didn't have to get up. They can only imagine how comfortable the bed will be tonight after they've had a shower and gotten clean bedding. They haven't showered since before the match.
They feel like they're starting to get over Him. He still haunts their every move, but compared to last night today is a big step forwards. Other than forgetting Him they have no plans. All they know is they don't want to leave the hotel.
That night, they wake up in the dark. Tears well up in their eyes. They sit up straight in a sudden furious motion as if rejecting the bed. Vague dreamlike memories echo in their mind, quickly fading away. They're not even sure if they had a dream, but they don't care. It's not a vision, but a feeling. A feeling of a great beauty. A pure and innocent love. A home with a bedroom with their name on the door. His Home.
They don't know if it's real. They don't know if they actually belong there, or if it's someone else's dream. But they do know they're never, ever going to get over it and they're going to spend the rest of their life trying to find Him. Because if there's any chance at all that it could be theirs, how can't they? Having their destiny, their family, pass them by would be too painful to bear. “He's mine,” they think, Poena the target of their bile.
But they don't know what they can do. They've failed in the only task they were given. They just can't do it. They gave it everything and they couldn't do it.
Sam: URGH!
With a cry of disgust, they hurl the comforter at the wall. They jump out of bed and turn the light on. They scan the room, the room that tried to rip them away and make them look pathetic in front of Him.
Sam: STUPID FUCKING HOTEL!
Quickly, they get dressed to leave and grab their things. In the corridor they bump into a shirtless young man.
?: Are you okay?
Probably their next door neighbor. They try to go past him but he grabs their arm.
Sam: Let me go!
Why can't they break free?
?: Wait a minute... just calm down.
They're supposed to be strong. Hopefully he's a boxer or something.
?: I can't let you go, you look like you're gonna kill somebody.
Sam's glare grows more venomous.
Sam: Leave me alone.
?: It's just a joke.
They pull and pull but can't even take a single step backwards.
?: I'm only trying to help.
Sam: Leave. Me. A. LONE!
They pull him back a step. He still stands strong until Sam busts his jaw with a left hook.
?: OW!
He holds his mouth, blood seeping through his fingers.
?: What the fuck did you do to my tooth?!
Sam just stares back coldly. They back away slowly, looking to see if he'll follow. Then they turn their back on him and go.
?: That's assault!
Sam doesn't answer, only muttering to themselves.
Sam: Shut up, you idiot.
. . .
Sam sends their students a text to wake up to. “Don't come in,” to Carlos and Oliver. “Give me your key,” to Mitchell. They make the five hour journey home on foot.
When they enter the gym, the three of them are standing there.
Mitchell: Sam! Where were you?
Sam gives Carlos and Oliver evil looks before turning their attention to Mitchell.
Sam: Give me your key.
Mitchell: Why? What's up?
Sam: I want you all out. Now.
They shove their palm out in front of Mitchell.
Oliver: Chill out, Sam. We'll get him next time.
Sam: I told you not to come!
They restretch their arm to Mitchell emphatically, commanding him with their eyes. He doesn't move.
Sam: Why does no one listen to me?!
Stunned, Mitchell hastily gives Sam his key.
Sam: Now get out!
Mitchell looks over at Carlos and Oliver. Their faces are cold and stubborn.
Carlos: I've been busting my ass for you for months. I'm not giving up.
Sam starts to storm in his direction. They pick up his bag and throw it as far as they can towards the door, then get right in his face.
Sam: GET OUT!
He recoils from the sheer volume, feeling some spit spray his face. He doesn't show any fear, but after giving them a frustrated look he starts going. Sam doesn't take their eyes from them until they're all gone.
Once they are, Sam turns to look at the two wrestling rings. Their blood continues to boil. This place looks more like some sort of visitor attraction than a gym. What a total waste of time. He must have been shaking His head the entire time.
At least now that they're alone, they can start making it up to Him. On the way here they briefly considered using their students as implements of torture. They could have torn Sam to shreds. But that's nowhere near good enough for Him. Forearms... punches... submissions... just completely pathetic. They've lived in that world for years. It's too comfortable. If they want to prove how sorry they are for failing to get Jack, for hating Him, for indulging themselves at The Sands in comfort and ignorance, it will take much, much more than that.
They take out their phone. Google might help them figure it out. Their body isn't theirs to do what they want with, it's sacred. There must be a way to get the necessary amount of pain without destroying it. They'll find it if it takes them all day. But before they get started, without thinking they open one of their many unread texts.
Tap Out is closing after one more show. They're about to move on but then they see something.
“POENA VS NOMAD”
NOMAD is the Openweight Champion. They shouldn't care. They should get over this. But an intense jealousy flares up, overpowering all of their plans. They can't let him have it. They just can't.
“@xhf put me in the rumble NOW”
From the aisle, Sam watches Jack Diamond celebrate in the ring, protected by Jason Long and society's laws. He's grinning like it was just another day at his casino's office. The Icons don't notice Sam staring at them with a childishly dirty look. Sam wants to hurt them so badly their stomach feels weak with hunger. It wouldn't matter if He was watching, or even exists, nothing right now would give them greater joy.
But it's not the Icons that are the reason Sam failed Him. It's Sam. They trained as hard as they could have. They did everything right. But they're just not good enough. Poena and Jack were destined to become His Chosen. Sam wants His love with every fiber of their being, would walk to the end of the Earth to please Him, but they can't change destiny.
As the match went on, it gradually dawned on Sam that they were fighting a losing battle. Their body and mind were empowered with what felt like an unstoppable strength, given to them by Him, but they still had to hold up their end. Their training paid off to perfection: they kept up with the Icons and managed to be far more on point than they were ever previously capable. They threw themselves at Jack with the speed of a possessed baseball. If He Himself was in the ring with His precious Jack He wouldn't have been more motivated. But it wasn't enough, by roughly a dozen 2K points. The result didn't matter, but Jack wasn't just going to let Sam force feed him his medicine.
The noise washes over Sam like it's nothing. Not even all the stars in the sky outside could make up for His absence. They thought He loved them more than the rest. They thought they were special to Him. Now they know they're nothing but a pathetic failure. They had one chance and it's gone.
Their legs start taking them towards the exit. They don't know where they're going but they stomp the floor with a bitter purpose. Some of the people backstage are slow to move out of the way and get shoved aside.
?: Sam...
Like the others before, his concerned voice tries to see past the Sam in front of him, believing there's a good kid inside that's just been brainwashed. Sam barely notices him. Instead of a hotel or a crowd of onlookers all they see is a haze of their own muddled rage. They hate Him. They don't want to but they can't help it. No matter how hard they try to repress it, or hate themselves instead, they can't stop themselves. He abandoned them.
They storm through the doors into the warm Las Vegas night. They don't know what they're doing here but they keep going. He has taken over their brain so intensely there's no room for anything else. They just walk... and walk... looking straight through the groups of people laughing and pointing. They could be anywhere in the world. It takes one man's face to bring them to a sudden stop. Jack.
The confused man locks eyes with Sam. It takes Sam a few seconds to realize it's not him. They keep staring at him until his friends pull him away. Sam's chest heaves with quick, anxious breaths. Jack... He wanted him so much. He was supposed to be lying in a hospital bed tonight. They both would have been so happy. They thought it was their destiny to be in His arms. Something inside them breaks.
Sam: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!
They pierce the air with an almost incomprehensible shriek of agony.
Sam: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
Everything is silent now except for the traffic. Sam is blind to all the people staring at them.
Sam: Noooo......
Before long, somebody hails a taxi for them and helps them into it. Sam is barely aware of what's happening.
. . .
Driver: Sam! ... Sam!
Sam is curled up on the back seat. When they wake up they just ignore him.
Driver: We're here.
Sam closes their eyes, not even thinking to argue. They try not to think of Him, and the pain, and hope to fall asleep again. The driver gently pulls their arm.
Driver: Come on. It's on me. Just get out of my fucking cab, Sam.
He pulls harder and Sam comes to their senses a little.
Sam: Let me sleep...
Driver: We're at The Sands.
Sam ... I want to sleep here.
Driver: Can you pay for it?
Sam doesn't answer.
Driver: A hundred dollars an hour.
Again no answer.
Driver: Hello?
Sam: My card's in there.
Driver: Where?
Sam: The Sands.
Driver: Want me to go and get it?
Sam: Yeah.
The driver sighs and grabs their arm again. He tries to pull them out but they resist, so he grabs them around the waist and hoists them out. When he releases them they crumple to the ground.
The taxi speeds off. They try to fall asleep where they lie for a minute before deciding to get up. They start to move, forcing themselves to walk faster than they'd like so they can get to bed faster. They're more aware of the people looking at them now. Kinda nice distraction from things.
After they get their stuff, they book a room for the night.
. . .
It was the most comfortable bed they'd ever slept in. They laid there for hours after waking up. When they started to get hungry, they brought a box of chocolates and some bread and water to bedside so they didn't have to get up. They can only imagine how comfortable the bed will be tonight after they've had a shower and gotten clean bedding. They haven't showered since before the match.
They feel like they're starting to get over Him. He still haunts their every move, but compared to last night today is a big step forwards. Other than forgetting Him they have no plans. All they know is they don't want to leave the hotel.
That night, they wake up in the dark. Tears well up in their eyes. They sit up straight in a sudden furious motion as if rejecting the bed. Vague dreamlike memories echo in their mind, quickly fading away. They're not even sure if they had a dream, but they don't care. It's not a vision, but a feeling. A feeling of a great beauty. A pure and innocent love. A home with a bedroom with their name on the door. His Home.
They don't know if it's real. They don't know if they actually belong there, or if it's someone else's dream. But they do know they're never, ever going to get over it and they're going to spend the rest of their life trying to find Him. Because if there's any chance at all that it could be theirs, how can't they? Having their destiny, their family, pass them by would be too painful to bear. “He's mine,” they think, Poena the target of their bile.
But they don't know what they can do. They've failed in the only task they were given. They just can't do it. They gave it everything and they couldn't do it.
Sam: URGH!
With a cry of disgust, they hurl the comforter at the wall. They jump out of bed and turn the light on. They scan the room, the room that tried to rip them away and make them look pathetic in front of Him.
Sam: STUPID FUCKING HOTEL!
Quickly, they get dressed to leave and grab their things. In the corridor they bump into a shirtless young man.
?: Are you okay?
Probably their next door neighbor. They try to go past him but he grabs their arm.
Sam: Let me go!
Why can't they break free?
?: Wait a minute... just calm down.
They're supposed to be strong. Hopefully he's a boxer or something.
?: I can't let you go, you look like you're gonna kill somebody.
Sam's glare grows more venomous.
Sam: Leave me alone.
?: It's just a joke.
They pull and pull but can't even take a single step backwards.
?: I'm only trying to help.
Sam: Leave. Me. A. LONE!
They pull him back a step. He still stands strong until Sam busts his jaw with a left hook.
?: OW!
He holds his mouth, blood seeping through his fingers.
?: What the fuck did you do to my tooth?!
Sam just stares back coldly. They back away slowly, looking to see if he'll follow. Then they turn their back on him and go.
?: That's assault!
Sam doesn't answer, only muttering to themselves.
Sam: Shut up, you idiot.
. . .
Sam sends their students a text to wake up to. “Don't come in,” to Carlos and Oliver. “Give me your key,” to Mitchell. They make the five hour journey home on foot.
When they enter the gym, the three of them are standing there.
Mitchell: Sam! Where were you?
Sam gives Carlos and Oliver evil looks before turning their attention to Mitchell.
Sam: Give me your key.
Mitchell: Why? What's up?
Sam: I want you all out. Now.
They shove their palm out in front of Mitchell.
Oliver: Chill out, Sam. We'll get him next time.
Sam: I told you not to come!
They restretch their arm to Mitchell emphatically, commanding him with their eyes. He doesn't move.
Sam: Why does no one listen to me?!
Stunned, Mitchell hastily gives Sam his key.
Sam: Now get out!
Mitchell looks over at Carlos and Oliver. Their faces are cold and stubborn.
Carlos: I've been busting my ass for you for months. I'm not giving up.
Sam starts to storm in his direction. They pick up his bag and throw it as far as they can towards the door, then get right in his face.
Sam: GET OUT!
He recoils from the sheer volume, feeling some spit spray his face. He doesn't show any fear, but after giving them a frustrated look he starts going. Sam doesn't take their eyes from them until they're all gone.
Once they are, Sam turns to look at the two wrestling rings. Their blood continues to boil. This place looks more like some sort of visitor attraction than a gym. What a total waste of time. He must have been shaking His head the entire time.
At least now that they're alone, they can start making it up to Him. On the way here they briefly considered using their students as implements of torture. They could have torn Sam to shreds. But that's nowhere near good enough for Him. Forearms... punches... submissions... just completely pathetic. They've lived in that world for years. It's too comfortable. If they want to prove how sorry they are for failing to get Jack, for hating Him, for indulging themselves at The Sands in comfort and ignorance, it will take much, much more than that.
They take out their phone. Google might help them figure it out. Their body isn't theirs to do what they want with, it's sacred. There must be a way to get the necessary amount of pain without destroying it. They'll find it if it takes them all day. But before they get started, without thinking they open one of their many unread texts.
Tap Out is closing after one more show. They're about to move on but then they see something.
“POENA VS NOMAD”
NOMAD is the Openweight Champion. They shouldn't care. They should get over this. But an intense jealousy flares up, overpowering all of their plans. They can't let him have it. They just can't.
“@xhf put me in the rumble NOW”