By Henry Corrigan
HORROR
For Bernard Donaldson, the Breaker of Men,
anything is possible in wrestling. Long-time friends can suddenly turn heel,
and even pariahs can make triumphant comebacks. But when Luke Jackson,
ex-friend, and lover, makes his return, Breaker knows something is wrong.
Stronger, faster, and better than he has any right to be, Luke is everything the
aging Breaker wishes he could be. But the closer he gets to Luke’s secrets, the
more he can feel something malevolent closing in. Because when it comes to
dreams and desires, nothing is more hellish than the human heart.
About The Author
To date, he has
self-published a novella, Carnal Theory, and written one full-length
dark fiction novel that he is currently shopping around. He also has the rough
drafts of two science fiction books, one horror novella, one play, four
children's books, numerous poems, and several song lyrics. Above all, he wants
to be known for not staying where he’s been put. To always surprise people, especially
himself. Because that's what makes it fun. The feeling that even he doesn't
know what he’s going to do next.
Check out my latest articles Henry Corrigan on Medium.
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Excerpt
Fireworks.
We start every night with fireworks. Even
through the heavy curtain I can smell it, the industrially acrid scent mixing
with the salty hops of beer and fried foods. My stomach rumbles and Scottie
nudges me gently.
“I’ll buy you a hotdog after this is over,”
he says, which makes me smile.
“Just don’t let Marlina put any hot peppers
on it this time.”
Marlina, Scottie’s valet, slaps my
shoulder. “Wimp,” she says, leaning against me like I’m a tree, which for
someone like Marlina who’s five-foot-four, I might as well be.
Out in the arena the fireworks die down but
not the roar of the crowd. Twenty thousand people stand ready as Scottie’s
music hits.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” peals the
announcer. “Please welcome the XZW General Manager...Scottiiiiieeeeeee Class!”
Scottie’s music is a chorus of regal horns,
like the king descending from on high. I kiss him as he steps through the
curtain, Marlina at his side.
They hit the ramp with their noses in the
air like they’re snorting cocaine straight outta the clouds. I smile as Scottie
twirls his cane with each strut.
By the time they reach the ring, I’ve got
my game face on. My sneer stretching ’til it could whip the skin off somebody
else’s face. I glance behind me at the crew guys running back and forth and the
script helpers making final tweaks, but it’s what I don’t see that worries me.
Luke should be here, and my gut can’t help
but worry. If he’s drunk it’ll screw up more than our angle, but before I can
think about it too much, my music hits, all shrieking guitars and pounding
drums.
Time to be the Breaker of Men.
I walk out to a sea of boos and hisses,
which I swallow down like candy. I make a point of snapping at those who reach
out for a high-five.
Down in the ring, Marlina puts a hand on
Scottie’s shoulder and starts looking for an exit. But Scottie doesn’t run.
That’s not who he is and more importantly, that’s not who he plays.
He waits until I’m through the ropes before
he steps to me.
“What the hell do you want, Breaker?” he
shouts and I have to fight not to smile. Nobody else can put a quaver in their
voice and make it crack on the mic.
I hit everybody with my best growl. “Sorry
to interrupt the grandstanding of a crippled old man...”
The boos double up now Scottie’s beloved
and everybody loves to hate me. Never mind the fact that I’m actually six
months older than Scottie. The feeling in the arena is like static
sparking between my fingers.
“But I’d like to talk about a sniveling,
ungrateful, backstabbing little bitch who got very, very lucky last
week.”
A cheer goes up. Some start to shout Luke’s
name while others chant ‘Live-and-Primed! Live-and-Primed!’ I give it a
three-count before continuing.
“Now, this bitch, used to be something
special. I thought I saw...” I hold up my thumb and forefinger. “A sliver of
talent there. So, I did what any good owner would do. I took it home, I fed it,
I trained it. I brought it to the top of the food chain. And what do I get for
my trouble?”
People are starting to clap now. Signs with
Luke’s picture get held up high. Another two-count and then I scream right in
Scottie’s face.
“I get a super kick to the back of the
head!”
The crowd goes nuts and now even Scottie
and Marlina are smiling.
“I want him. Do you hear me? I want Luke
Jackson! Now what is the general manager, gonna do about it?”
Scottie looks me up and down and sniffs,
like I don’t have a good six inches on him.
“Listen Breaker, I shouldn’t have to
explain this to you, but you’ve always been a little slow, so I’ll make
this real easy.”
I snarl at Scottie but he just keeps on
rolling.
“I don’t owe you any favors. You don’t have
any friends. And you definitely,” he taps me in the chest with his cane.
“Don’t get to make demands of me. So why don’t you take all that dead weight
and go find somebody who gives a-”
My hips clicks as I kick Scottie in the
midsection, but my boy sells it just like we planned. I start hammering on his
back with my forearms while Marlina tries to pull me off. Hauling him up onto
my shoulders makes my back creak, but I do it anyway because the
Death-Valley Driver is what I’m known for.
Quick as a rocket, Marlina hits me with the
same padded, sequined fist that brought her five championships and I roll with
it, being sure to drop Scottie in a way that doesn’t hurt him.
Marlina makes to run but I’m too big to be
done yet. I grab her by the throat and start bellowing in her face. Scottie
comes off the mat swinging his cane, but I grab him by the throat too
and that’s exactly when Luke’s music hits.
Luke’s music is all frenetic beats, like
the musicians were ripped on speed and playing ’til their hearts gave out.
Luke comes charging down the ramp, his
manager Mr. Best right on his heels and I only have to look to know Luke’s
straight as an arrow which kicks all the worries right out of my head.
I let go of Scottie and Marlina and turn as
Luke baseball slides beneath the ropes.
Before he’s even on his feet, I level a
haymaker at him, but Luke sidesteps it easily, almost too easily. Bouncing off
the ropes, he comes flying back and hits me with a dropkick that I sell even
though I have to grit my teeth as I hit the mat. Even rolling to the outside,
little sparklers of pain shoot up my spine.
Luke follows me and we begin to brawl right
in front of the fans. Clotheslines, chops, a chair-shot for each of us but it’s
how fast Luke is moving that almost scares me.
We’ve been brawling for at least a minute
and he’s not even slightly out of breath. His abs fucking ripple as he
grabs the ring bell and charges me.
I barely have time to duck. The edge
scrapes my cheek as it passes. If he’d hit me, my head would be up in the
rafters by now.
After that though, there’s not a thing out
of place. The refs and security people show up right on time. Luke and I end up
on opposite sides of the ring, shouting at each other and the crowd eats it up.
I let security drag me away, but even as I
make the ramp, I can’t decide whether I’m happy, surprised, or jealous at how
well Luke is moving. The urge to talk to him is strong but by the time I make
the curtain, Luke’s long gone and Mr. Best along with him.
Scottie and Marlina wave me over to the
locker rooms and I follow, stopping just long enough to wish the tag teams up
next luck in officially starting the show.
The night moves on.
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