The moment that Devon stepped through those gates, he felt a heaviness in the air and instantly knew he was in the right place as he could smell the ghostly smells from his own visits to carnivals in his youth…the heady scent of fresh popcorn and funnel cakes oh so faintly wafted on the wind before they were taken away by those same winds.
The eldest son of Marcus Slayton walked through the abandoned venues of the carnival, walking past boarded up facades and venues that spoke volumes of this dark place…but as he walked, he could hear the faint whispers all around him but at the moment they were too soft to be heard properly and nonetheless that made him clench his fists in silent anger as he looked around.
“Maybe I should’ve asked for directions…” Devon muttered darkly under his breath when suddenly something happened that caught Devon’s attention which made him turn his head to face it.
One single venue, less than a few feet from where he was standing, was now not only open and looking brand spanking new…but it was the most brightly lit thing in the entire carnival and when Devon saw what the venue was, he let out a deep groan of annoyance.
“You would have to choose the Hall of Mirrors, wouldn’t you?” he growled as he turned to walk towards it. “I’m just thankful that you didn’t use the tunnel of love…or would Babyaka even have one of those here?” he mused further.
As Devon walked up to the ticket station, a figure with a mask in the shape of a blank owl’s face turned to regard him.
“What is the cost?” Devon inquired.
The owl-faced man chuckled lightly. “No charge…but only if you're one of the righteous.”
Devon nodded, quietly understanding what he meant before he stepped through the door and into the halls proper, but once he was inside-all sounds ceased, not even the sounds of the wind and outside world could enter here as Devon walked quietly through the mirrors, not able to see any reflections of himself but instead large smudges that seemed to be moving on their own.
“I didn’t come here to play games nor do I have time for it.” Devon said out loud.
There was a very wry chuckle from someplace deep within the hall. “Oh you think that this is a game, Devon? When we parted ways, you stopped being righteous and I want to see if your reason for seeking me out is worth my fucking time, old friend.”
“So what, I’m supposed to just..what…fight myself or something?”
Another chuckle, “Something like that…”
“See I told you that you weren’t worthy.” came a proudly arrogant whisper from behind him as Devon turned to face the reflection of Chris Sabertooth, dressed how he was in his promo prior to their match at King of the World. “You never stood an actual chance against me…”
“As I said, he was not even a pale reflection of his *FATHER*.” came the words of Jayson Cage, from within another mirror next to Sabertooth’s. The richly dressed figure was dressed just like he had been prior to his match with Devon back in two thousand and three for Pacific Championship Wrestling. The image adjusted his hat with a proud smirk on its face, “I mean all you could do was stand there and be pissed off, *BOY*!”
Devon could feel his rage building before he shoved it aside and glanced at the two images. “Is this the best that you got?”
“You do get what I’m laying down here, don’tcha? This isn’t to piss you off but to point out what’s been driving you throughout your career. Something that’s been more than just that talent that you got from dear old daddykins or help from the Dark Circle, Rogue Horsemen, or even your Dominion.”
Devon turned to regard the speaker who was casually laying across the top of a mirror near-by. His full dreadlocks hung off the said as the figure had his heavily tattooed arms crossed over his equally as inked chest.
“You went from fight to fight, learning everything as you went. You took hellacious beating after hellacious beating until finally…you started to listen to me and we started to doll out the pain instead.” the man explained, a wicked smile crossing his face like some kind of demented Cheshire Cat.
“That doesn’t change the fact that he’s been nothing but a fucking *JOKE*.” came the reflection of Jay Jones, this image also dressed as how he was in the promo prior to the American Dream title match at Violent Ends, smiling proudly. “And you fucking lost to NOBI…”
Before the reflection could say anything else, Devon’s right fist lashed out and shattered the mirror into a thousand pieces.
“So I lost to Nobi, I can handle that.” Devon growled.
“Really, it seems to me that…” the shade of Emmanuelle was about to say before “she” too joined “Jay” in a rain of shards.
“And nothing from you either…” Devon snarled as he turned to regard the now empty mirror space, as more and more whispers started to come up from his past-all of them followed the same trend.
He was past his prime, he wasn’t WORTHY anymore…
For every face from his past that brought forth a whisper, they too joined the rain of shards.
The “Messiah” Dallas Winston: I nearly ripped your ability to have children from you with one move, Devon…how do you think that makes you a man?!
Dusty R. Downs: I claimed that I would help you become a much better wrestler, the mentor that you always needed….but instead I simply used you to constantly get what I wanted and you just ate it up happily like a dog with a t-bone!
Stalker: Dude, I beat you while wearing a fucking RABBIT COSTUME!!!
Devon’s vision went red and he started to smash every single mirror that lay before him, the blood started to seep from those cuts more and more as he tore down the walls before him and Devon landed on his knees, “You all think that this is fucking funny?! Each time you beat me, I still got up and kept going…because I understood pain better than anyone of you mother fuckers!!” Devon spat out, his boiling rage evident in his words.
“That’s just it man, you had all of this *righteousness* and this *rage* inside of you.” the speaker said again as he landed in a crouch next to Devon. "And where did it get you?"
The Speaker slammed his fist against an unbroken mirror and it shows Devon standing, his face dripping in blood and smiling proudly, as he hoisted up the Universal Wrestling Corporation heavyweight title....his right boot planted firmly upon the chest of his own best friend Zell Hunter!!
*SLAM*
Another image, this time of Devon dragging the broken half of a lightbulb tube deeply across the forehead of Jayson Cage, blood gushing like a waterfall until the ref shoves Devon aside to check on Cage before the Ref steps back and end the match before handing Devon the National Wrestling Federation championship...
*SLAM*
Devon locking Eric Davis into a very tight Baran choke submission, a very sick and sadistic smile on his face as Davis slowly fades before he is finally forced to release the hold by a couple of refs.
"You see man...you were righteous. I gave you my all...but then, you started getting lazy man. I mean you started doing the very fucking shit that you accused peeps like Sweet Roxy, Chris Sabertooth, Jay Jones, and others of doing, man..." the speaker said before he indicated Devon who was slowly moving to his feet. "So I called our business done before you got signed to Omega...and look where that got you."
*SLAM*
Devon getting caught by DiVA before he can help Ethan Stryfe out of a Sweet Roxy pin to allow the Dollhouse to remain as tag team champions.
*SLAM*
Devon allowing his frustration to get the better of him during a title match in Alpha Wrestling.
*SLAM*
Devon missing a move that would later lead to the injury that stole a year of his career from him....
The snarky voice of a bearded Jacob Knight, holding the Royalty Wrestling League championship which he then “presents” to Devon. “And I, of course, owe my one and only world title to you, Devon. I mean if that ref hadn’t been paid off, I might have…” came through the mirror before Devon quickly speared it, his face taking the brunt of the damage as he found himself in a small pool of mirror shards as he hauled himself up and looked around.
The speaker then smiled. “Then what about this classic…hmm?” before he snapped his fingers.
A voice that was both smoky and sultry snaked its way through the Hall with "I didn't want him to give up his dreams completely...I'm broken and angry inside."
Devon slowly moved up to his knees, feeling like he'd ben in one violent gauntlet match after another within the last scant few minutes, blood trailing down his face and arms as he heard the smoky voice continued around him...both blaming him and not again and again all around him as Devon fought to try and control his own emotions.
"Funny...I don't recall it happening like that..." Devon said, his voice lacking any kind of emotion.
"Yeah...funny that one, huh? She makes you all kinds of promises of not abandoning you, of always staying by your side, and oh, let's not forget this one...shall we?" The Speaker said as he moved to kneel next to Devon and drape an arm across Devon's bloody shoulders. "She did promise you to let you know if there was problems...didn't she?"
Devon didn't react in the slightest, not one muscle moved...not one single muscle.
The Speaker smiled a non-smile at Devon. "I mean she told you that she wanted to focus more on her career...but you and I *both* know that's not the case now is it? I mean how long did it take...maybe one, two months before she'd already move on from you...and yet, you treated her like a motherfucking Queen, but she was the one who chose to work the opposite way from you isn't? I mean...how hard would've it had been to be here in Wrestleworld?"
The Speaker noticed that there was still no reaction from his guest, which made him not smile even more.
"I mean seriously think about it, you got guys all over that promotion who bring feuds from all over the place. I mean fucking Reginald and Arata's crosses international datelines and this little blonde thing couldn't find the time to be there for you when you *NEEDED* her." the Speaker continued.
"But then, that is the old hat, isn't? That's just the thing man...maybe she'd still be here, maybe ya wouldn't be seen as a thirty something year old joke...had you still been one of the Righteous, my maim man."
Devon still didn't react, then the smoky whispers that had been hiding in the gilded shadows crept forth, wrapping their nonexistent arms around him and in the voices of all of his past loves-from Natasha to Athena to Lexi-all twisted up in a hot smoke that twisted itself in his ears.
<But you know better, don't you, lover? You know full well that nobody could ever love a creature like you...which is why *SHE* is now a fun little toy for someone who is your superior...> the smoke heatedly said before laughing hotly and adding <in every way, little bastard>
Devon then lowered his head and he slowly started to shake his head which the Speaker caught as he stood up. "You see man, you're so broken that you can't even see how badly..." he started to say, but then Devon did something very unexpected.
Devon threw his head back and started to laugh long and hard as a very loud bass riff tore through the Hall.
But it wasn't a healthy "Ha ha" kind of laugh.
It was the twisting, mocking, and most importantly *HATEFUL* kind of laugh, the kind of laugh that comes with either a man's mind snapping entirely and forever...
...or the kind that comes with a twisting realization that leads into something much sinister.
The Speaker stopped his smile as Devon slowly got up to his feet, still laughing before he opened his ice blue eyes and turned them onto the other man.
Then the laughing stopped.
"Hello me, meet the real me...and my misfit's way of life." Devon started to say as he tapped his chin thoughtfully for a moment before motioning to himself with a wide grin. "A dark, black past is my most *valued* possession because you see, hindsight is always twenty twenty...but always looking back, it's still a bit fuzzy."
The Speaker's face split into a smile of his own as he quickly clapped a couple of times before pointing at Devon with a twisted smile of his own and a hop to a skip. "Speaking of mutually assured destruction, whatcha' think of it?!"
Devon's face then took on a more disdainful expression as he added with a snort, "A nice story, why don't you tell it to Reader's Digest?"
The two men then started to share in a very twisted laugh before the remaining mirrors started to twist and turn-the shades and reflections within started to demand Devon's full attention once more at which point Devon quickly covered up his ears, trying to tune out the voices, before finally he whirled on them and roared;
"SHUT THA FUCK UP, CAN'T YOU SEE THAT I'M TRYING TO LOOSE MY FUCKING MIND HERE, YOU GODDAMNED NUTTERS?!"
With that single roar, the mirrors suddenly shattered and exploded into pieces that rained across Devon and the Speaker both, which left only one mirror left as Devon tilted his head a little bit to the right before he walked right up to it and regarded the shade within.
He stood there for a moment, listening to the defiant shade's mocking tones at which point Devon simply shook his head. "Hello, it's me again. With everything that has happened, it started feeling claustrophobic...exactly like the walls were closing in, but this..." Devon said as he raised his very bloody hands up for the shade to see with a wide-eyed look. "These blood stains on my hands, these from now on are on your head and your head *alone*...so with every beautiful crimson drip, drip, dripping...yeah, just keep on keeping on thinking it was *my* fault...and always staying an inch or two outta kicking distance."
Devon's expression then turned hard, a non-smile crossing his lips. "Oh...but you should start feeling paranoid with those icy fingers clawing at your back because that's me one day coming up from behind you out of the blackest shadows, because someday you too will know my pain...because once you COMMITTED me, now you've ACQUITTED me...as you claim validity for your...*stupidity*."
Devon then took a step back from the mirror as the non-smile disappeared from his face.
"But here...have a gift from me...."
At that point Devon exploded forward and grabbed at the "head" of the mirror and then simply exploded with one savage elbow shot after another, knicks on his elbow opening into cuts that opened into full on gnashes until finally the mirror exploded under the constant onslaught of violence as Devon's face takes on an actual smile.
"god *DAMN*...I need a fucking smoke."
Devon then slowly turned around and regarded all of the destruction that he had caused before running a hand over his head. "Alright, first things first...I take care of the old business and then....*then*, payback...oh, paaayyybbbacckkk!!"
Devon then starts to walk to the exit of the Hall of Mirrors, slowly turning the word "Payback" into a little song and dance before disappearing once more into inky shadows of the Carnival.
Sat Dec 03, 2022 4:36 pm by 
Subject: ...and the Abyss calls you *HOME*... 
