He Comes In 3s

(The camera opens in Cynthia Rose's dark hotel room deep within the rumbling belly of Eden. The clock on her night stand flashes 3:37 AM as the sound of clothes tumbling dry a mere room over thumps the wall rhythmically behind Cynthia's headboard, causing it to tremor and shake in a way not dissimilar to a rocking bassinet. The muted bumps and subtle rocks have long put Cynthia to rest nestled beneath her covers, her angelic face framed deep within her soft and giving feather pillow. A sudden hiss emits through the room as a lurching figure slinks unnaturally toward the foot of her bed. It's wretched frame lowers onto the mattress as it stares ahead blankly through the eye holes of it's mask while adjusting it's malformed tie. Sensing the presence, Cynthia's eyes shoot open as she sits bolt upright in bed and stares at the specter sitting on the edge of her mattress.)

Cynthia Rose: W-who are you?! The laundry room's one room over.

(The ghostly figure's head slowly cricks around to face it's prey, smiling over it's shoulder as it's full body follows the head, contorting to face her and let out a haunting whisper.)

The Professional: dddddirty laundry?

Cynthia Rose: Hey! I know who you are! My uncle told me about you!

The Professional: ddddddid he now?

Cynthia Rose: You're that Professional he trained...or, well Percy trained...aren't you?

The Professional: iiiii have many names. To some I'm the horrible and ghastly ghost of past regret. To others? I've been a somber reflection of their own present nature. I haunt their dreams, even now....eeeeespecially now.

Cynthia Rose: So this is a dream? Is that why you're wearing a mask and whispering? because I don't know what you really look or sound like?

(The Professional chuckles as a horrible smile curls it's cracked lips upward beneath his mask and it's smiling eyes cut to the side cheekily.)

The Professional: mmmmmmaybe? But it seems unlikely, doesn't it? after all, why would you be dreaming of me? wwwwwwe've never even met.

Cynthia Rose: I 'unno? Maybe because I'm insecure about you? You're like this giant figure standing over my career; an elephant in the room that everyone addresses when they're supposed to talk about me. Maybe I'm afraid of ending up like you...after all, I'm surrounded by everyone you were surrounded by at the time of your-

The Professional: mmmmmmy death?

(Cynthia pulls her legs up under her chin, clutching them tightly as she peers over them with a lack of fear in her expression as she stares down The Professional. In fact, one might say she resembles an art critic trying to decipher the meaning of a painting with her brow furrowed and her eyes peeled and studious over what's in front of her.)

Cynthia Rose: So you did die? I'd heard rumors that you might still be...well...it's not important. What's important here is your presence here, and now, in my bedroom...in this dream...?

The Professional: yyyyyou're asking many interesting questions, but none of them are the correct one to ask.

Cynthia Rose: So what's the right question? Am I supposed to wonder if you forgive them?

The Professional: i'mi'mi'm far past forgiveness. There's no reason to feel bitter toward April, and as for Claudia? it's water under the frfrfrfridge.

Cynthia Rose: I think you mean bridge, right?

(The Professional shrugs it's bony shoulders beneath it's baggy suit as it's cheeky owl like gaze cuts to the side knowingly. Cynthia's eyes narrow with grotesque understanding.)

Cynthia Rose: Right...I'd heard rumors about that too.

The Professional: whwhwhwhat are rumors but lies we tell about ourselves? fofofofor instance, your trainer claims to have taken me under his wing after your uncle abandoned me.

Cynthia Rose: Didn't he?

(The Professional once again lets it's skeletal frame shift upward in a shrug around it's pole like spine.)

The Professional: Isisisisis it important if he did or not?

Cynthia Rose: Well, yeah. I mean, Percy's training me now and I'd like to know if his resume is up to date. Did he train you?

The Professional: sosososome would say I had many trainers within the confines of the ring, that I learned on the fly and adapted when the only other option was to perish. Others would say I trained myself.

Cynthia Rose: Which is true?

The Professional: thathathat's not important. What's important is who is training you.

Cynthia Rose: I told you already. Percy.

The Professional: ararare you sure?

Cynthia Rose: Yes! What are you on about?

The Professional: dododon't you feel like his attention is elsewhere? thathathat you're not his main priority?

Cynthia Rose:...you mean Sam? Or Kim Johannson? Or whatever she goes by this week?

The Professional: gorforfor starters, yessssss

Cynthia Rose: Do you mean you?

The Professional: ohohohohoh he quit caring about me long ago. one could argue that he never didididid.

Cynthia Rose: It's true that he has his gripes about how things ended between the two of you, but deep down I think he wonders what might've been if you had survived.

The Professional: mymymy blood is just as much on his hands as anyone else's.

Cynthia Rose: Would you quit with the echoing bit? It's annoying. I get it, you're a ghost.

The Professional: sosososorry, but it is what I am. An echoechoecho of things that were and things to comecomecome.

Cynthia Rose: I'm not going to end up like you, Andrew. Percy says I'm already twice the wrestler you ever were, and he damn sure wouldn't lie about that.

The Professional: dadadadamn?

Cynthia Rose: Sorry...language...

The Professional: That's not like you to curse, now is it? even at your angriest you've only ever been able to pull out a 'shoot' or a 'darn'.

Cynthia Rose: Ohmigosh, excuse me for not being myself when a flippin' ghost appears at the foot of my bed in a dream!...wait, you sto-

The Professional: Why would you ever bother being yourself? Where has that gotten you? Broken, bitter, and with your tender little southern heart pulverized beneath expensive stiletto heels? You're not even worthy of going after the European Champion. You're stuck arguing with the help at ringside.

Cynthia Rose: Hey! Cut it out!

The Professional: It's true though, isn't it? Don't you feel it? The constant pull to the side of someone else? Like you're a second banana in your own story.

Cynthia Rose: No-

The Professional: First it was your sweet and well meaning Aunt and Uncle, then for a brief second it seemed as though Claudia Michaels might shoe in on your territory. Soon you found yourself as the third wheel in a tryst between Sam and Percy. Now? Now you're stuck fighting in a division of misfits that no one expects to overcome the odds as the people around you fight for World Domination.

Cynthia Rose: SHUT THE FUCK UP!

(Cynthia clasps her ears as her eyes fill with tears. As if feeding off of the negative energy, the Professional's body begins to elongate until it's standing over her, it's shadow enveloping her tiny frame in the bed like a sea of darkness.)

The Professional: Even now I tower over you from beyond the grave! SIX FEET WASN'T FAR ENOUGH DOWN TO KEEP ME FROM CASTING MY SILHOUETTE OVER YOUR DOOMED CAREER!

(Cynthia full out begins to bawl as dark hands and wretched claws reach out from the depths of the Professional's shadow and begin to pull her down into the void. She struggles and fights while sniffling and squealing as The Professional cackles at an eardrum popping decimal.)

The Professional: EMBRACE ME! STARE INTO THE INEVITABLE DARKNESS OF OBSCURITY! FACE YOUR FUTURE NOW AND UNDERSTAND YOU BARELY MAKE A DIFFERENCE! WHY, YOU'RE SO INSIGNIFICANT THAT THIS ISN'T EVEN YOUR NIGHTMARE!

(Cynthia quits screaming as a big, dark, massive, meaty crustacean claw lodges into her mouth. She quits struggling and submits to the darkness pulling her down into the shadow realm as The Professional rips off it's mask, revealing a wrinkled, scowling, and bitter pink head of an older Cynthia Rose beneath it with fire in it's eyes. It flashes it's grisly teeth before sprouting inky skeletal wings and diving into it's own shadow, plunging it's young former self into blackness just as Percy Jackson sits up in his luxurious penthouse canopy bed. His face is drenched in sweat and his eyes are wide and angry as the dream visions of his past protege consuming his current student slowly fade from his mind's eye. He looks beside him in bed to find Sam laying asleep, facing away from him with the lion's share of covers in her possession. He shakes his head in disbelief before turning to his night stand and seeing his alarm clock flash 3:37 AM. Bewildered by what this might mean, he quickly gets out of bed, grabbing his cell phone off of the night stand as he walks out on the penthouse patio in his sweatsuit and some slippers. He presses his address book on the menu page and scrolls down until his finger lands on "Fresh Meat". He presses the pseudonym and hurriedly shoves the receiver up to his ear. Many stories down, Cynthia's cellphone rings a generic tone, causing her face to contort angrily in it's sleep before one sleepy hand finally reaches out and snatches it up and presses it to her face as she keeps her eyes closed in sleepy defiance.)

Cynthia Rose: h-hello?

Percy: Cynthia! Is everything okay?

(Cynthia's eyes open with a confused scowl as she stares at the name on her screen. "The Lightning Thief". As if still at a loss for an explanation for what's going on, she presses the receiver to her ear urgently for confirmation.)

Cynthia Rose: ...Percy?...It's like...3:30, dude. Please tell me I don't have to swim laps this early...

Percy: Nah, nah, it's nothing like that. I'm just...you know...checking in...make sure you're sleeping well.

Cynthia Rose: (with an exhausted yawn) I was until you called. Clearly one of isn't sleeping well...

????: Percy...?

(Percy turns to face the still open sliding door of his penthouse suite, only to find Sam standing in the doorway with her hair up and in a night gown with a disconcerted look on her face.)

Percy: Go inside.

Sam: (sigh) Is that-

Percy: Go.

(Sam lets out a huff and heads back into the dark penthouse abode, sliding the door shut behind her as Percy watches to make sure she's gone.)

Cynthia Rose: Who was that?

Percy: Never you mind, go back to sleep and mind ya own damn business.

Cynthia Rose: Sooorry...and language...

(Percy smiles at the innocent and non-vulgar understanding tone of his student, even in the throes of being woken up so abruptly before sun up.)

Percy: I'm sorry.

Cynthia Rose: No, I am. I shouldn't have raised my voice. I need to listen to you more.

Percy: So we're even?

Cynthia Rose: S'allight?

Percy: S'allight.

Cynthia Rose: Good, because I really want to get back to this dream I was having...

(Percy darts around at the sound of the glass sliding door opening once more as Sam steps out in her street clothes, reapplying her earrings as she glares at him over her spectacles while heading for the elevator. Percy mouths 'Sorry'. Sam flips him the bird, and then uses her middle finger to press the down button.)

Percy: Oh yeah...? Was I in it?

(Percy sticks out his tongue as Sam stares at him in disbelief at his line of questioning. The elevator doors open and she steps in angrily, letting her hand shoot the bird through the door as the elevator begins sliding closed around her slowly retracting wrist.)

Cynthia Rose: Yeah. I was back in college at the wrestling meet and you, uncle Tony and aunt Jennifer were in the stands...and you were laughing at something. I didn't get to figure out what.

Percy: Probably a mascot or somethin'.

Cynthia Rose: It didn't feel that way. Did you have any dreams?

(Sam fully retracts her hand just as the elevator doors close and the bell dings, signaling it's decent. Percy looks on with regret in his face as he walks to the edge of the building and looks down at the parking lot below, as if he would be able to see Sam leaving from that height.)

Percy: Yeah...you were in mine too.

Cynthia Rose: Ew! Grody!

Percy: It wasn't like that!

Cynthia Rose: Haha, I know...I just had to get you back for waking me up this early.

Percy: Oh yeah? well here's my revenge: Get them damn trainers on because you're gonna be runnin' drills up the stairs until sun up!

Cynthia Rose: Hah! I saw that coming. I already beat you to the punch and got dressed minutes ago. I'm just about to go out the door and hit the elevators and head up your way.

Percy: Best take the stairs. The elevator's probably not going to be in good working condition by the time it makes it down to you anyway. Damn, can't even pull a fast one on you anymore.

Cynthia Rose: Naturally. When it comes to your pop quiz style of training, I'm a regular pro at this point.

(Percy winces at the end of that sentence, clutching his forehead as if trying to squeeze the dream out of his cerebrum as the camera fades to black.)