Post by Henry Lee Hyde on May 25, 2022 15:11:48 GMT -5
[ON/OFF] SCENE ONE
The morning sun hangs low in the sky, bringing with it a cloying mist. It clings to the ground, the hill upon which Henry has sat atop for hours that feel like minutes, seconds. Still, unmoving from dusk til dawn.
Atop the hill, he sees the first cracks of light split through the distant streets. Feels the shiver that follows rain. Takes in the hint of dew on the grass, fresh and cool as he breathes it in. But he's dry as bone. Not even shivering in the wake of the rainfall that besieged his small hometown last night.
As the mist runs deeper than his skin, he finally shakes away the fog that's settled in his skull and awakens. Eyes opening from half-lidded to wide, truly taking in his surroundings. How many times has it been now? How many times has he clamoured up this hill, dirt still under his nails come morning, drawn in by the lure of power that the black-doored barn has dangled in front of him? And how many more times will he awaken without it, at the mercy of the world it promised to protect him from?
Henry shakes his head. In his fist, another chip of black wood. Clawed from the barn that used to stand where he sits. At least, Henry thinks it did. It feels like a hazy memory now. One he desperately needs to forget, he feels.
Knows.
Deep down.
Atop the hill, he sees the first cracks of light split through the distant streets. Feels the shiver that follows rain. Takes in the hint of dew on the grass, fresh and cool as he breathes it in. But he's dry as bone. Not even shivering in the wake of the rainfall that besieged his small hometown last night.
As the mist runs deeper than his skin, he finally shakes away the fog that's settled in his skull and awakens. Eyes opening from half-lidded to wide, truly taking in his surroundings. How many times has it been now? How many times has he clamoured up this hill, dirt still under his nails come morning, drawn in by the lure of power that the black-doored barn has dangled in front of him? And how many more times will he awaken without it, at the mercy of the world it promised to protect him from?
Henry shakes his head. In his fist, another chip of black wood. Clawed from the barn that used to stand where he sits. At least, Henry thinks it did. It feels like a hazy memory now. One he desperately needs to forget, he feels.
Knows.
Deep down.
HENRY LEE HYDE.
INSTINCT.
FALLOUT XXV: GLADIATOR GAMES II: NIGHT ONE.
[ON/OFF] SCENE TWO
The Hyde family home sits quieter than usual as Henry enters. He expected greetings or sharp glares upon slipping through the door, so much so he pauses when neither pierce him. His nephew must be at school, but his father–
"Dad's not home," Jennifer calls from the living room, Henry following his sister's voice to find her settled in front of the window. He notes the absence of her walking cane, and smiles remembering the praises she'd sung for her latest round of physical therapy. "You're gonna have to talk to him properly at some point though."
Shrugging off her last comment, Henry asks, “Where'd he go?”
“Went out for a drive about an hour ago, didn't say where he was going.”
Henry snorts. “Probably sensed me coming down from a mile away and made his quick exit.”
Jen manages a laugh before sobering, gaze catching the darkness under Henry's eyes. "Have you been out all night?"
"No...Well..."
"It's fine," she says with a frown. "Dad's not here, so you can be as honest as you want."
Henry chuckles. "It's not to do with him, it's just... It's nothing. I can't really explain it."
They're silent for a second too long, Henry looking anywhere but at his sister's questioning stare.
“What happened?” It's as blunt as Henry's ever heard Jen be. Noting the way he shifts and settles against the doorway, she continues, “You said you needed to get away, but never said why.”
“You know me, I keep my secrets close," Henry says, folding his arms across his chest.
But she persists. “It wasn't something serious, was it?”
How can he tell her? Unravel his months-long plan to systematically tear apart every person who stole everything from her – without ever explaining as such to her? The concern in her face already runs deep, through bloodshot eyes and fragile, restless bones. She'd consider him mad if she knew how stained with blood the hands that paid for her recovery were.
“No, and it's over now. I just wanna spend some time here and switch off.”
As if on cue, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Henry scowls as he checks the notification.
“What's that?” she asks, noting his furrowed brow.
“A challenge.”
"Dad's not home," Jennifer calls from the living room, Henry following his sister's voice to find her settled in front of the window. He notes the absence of her walking cane, and smiles remembering the praises she'd sung for her latest round of physical therapy. "You're gonna have to talk to him properly at some point though."
Shrugging off her last comment, Henry asks, “Where'd he go?”
“Went out for a drive about an hour ago, didn't say where he was going.”
Henry snorts. “Probably sensed me coming down from a mile away and made his quick exit.”
Jen manages a laugh before sobering, gaze catching the darkness under Henry's eyes. "Have you been out all night?"
"No...Well..."
"It's fine," she says with a frown. "Dad's not here, so you can be as honest as you want."
Henry chuckles. "It's not to do with him, it's just... It's nothing. I can't really explain it."
They're silent for a second too long, Henry looking anywhere but at his sister's questioning stare.
“What happened?” It's as blunt as Henry's ever heard Jen be. Noting the way he shifts and settles against the doorway, she continues, “You said you needed to get away, but never said why.”
“You know me, I keep my secrets close," Henry says, folding his arms across his chest.
But she persists. “It wasn't something serious, was it?”
How can he tell her? Unravel his months-long plan to systematically tear apart every person who stole everything from her – without ever explaining as such to her? The concern in her face already runs deep, through bloodshot eyes and fragile, restless bones. She'd consider him mad if she knew how stained with blood the hands that paid for her recovery were.
“No, and it's over now. I just wanna spend some time here and switch off.”
As if on cue, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Henry scowls as he checks the notification.
“What's that?” she asks, noting his furrowed brow.
“A challenge.”
[ON/OFF] SCENE THREE
There's an unsettled quiet that washes over the scene. As if it's occurring in the wake of some great storm, or just before. The silence that wraps around Henry like a cloak is cold and grey, mirroring the overcast sky, the morning mist. The latter has become used to Henry's silhouette, fits him like armour, like skin.
He sits cross-legged on the hill, hands still on his knees, gaze towards the sun. Looks almost peaceful, but the warning hints of that storm roll beneath his expression.
“Challenging me? I have to admire that. Not many people would look at my record, my title defences, and call me out. What's it now? Three ref stoppages in a row?"
"Three worthy challengers who stepped up to me and paid the toll for their trip in blood."
"One of 'em the current Artist of Honor Champion. Another the first-ever Gatekeeper Champion – a championship I've brought to new heights. My name is etched so deep into its history now with my accomplishments, that it's a part of me. A twenty-fifth rib, a third hand to climb with, a third eye to see challenge, the future. I've shed skin, sweat, blood for this title. But I don't just defend this title with my blood.”
“I defend it with the blood of others. Of every man, woman, person that's stepped up to me for it. Every threat, every rising star, every madman, every opportunist. And now you, Savannah...”
“You think you can take it from me.”
He tilts his head, as if considering his own statement, eyes drifting across the ground.
“I'm glad you came knocking. You're my step up. All this time, I've been fighting and surviving the future. People like Yuriko, Alyssa. People who soar up the card and yet still have further to go. People with raw potential, raw power, people who sought to use me and this title as stepping stones. It's always been me standing further up the mountain, throwing those stones back in their faces.”
“Now I get to climb, claw. Odd, isn't it? Being the champion and yet facing an uphill battle. And it is a battle. You've climbed these heights before, Savannah. Look at all your previous title matches, for the Ascension, the Noble Championship, titles considered more than mine by the small-minded – most lost, but something's always gained in defeat. Knowledge of how to climb, crawl, the shortcuts, the spots where the rocks are looser, how to make them and your opponent fall. You know it well, this ascent.”
“But I'm right behind you. Breathing down your neck. What're you gonna do when I grab that rope you've been clinging to for so long now? When I make my pass? You asked for this challenge – are you gonna let go? Scream into the void and cut yourself loose when it chases you up?”
“Only way you're gonna stop me from climbing is by cutting us both down. See I've heard that I need to make real waves around here to continue my own and my title's ascent, and you, you're the ocean I need to crash into. Had main events, blood feuds, the Noble Championship. I've built my foundations up – you've built yours. And some might say your foundations are shaky. You were in main events at almost every Fallout show at one point, a top contender, a name people wanted to hunt as you cut through the competition. But now? Dulled edge. That's what some might think.”
“But I know when I see someone on the edge, I know. 'Cause I've been there. And I sense it. Some...killer instinct. It's there, fighting. Tryna get out.”
“There's a reason you challenged me after all.”
“And I know, I sense that whatever pure, primal fight lies within you is gonna come out. Hopefully in our match. Why? We all saw what happened at Fallout XXIV. Your worst day, wasn't it, Savannah? One bad night. Holt, and then Billy turning to the side of Wright. Did you even see that, even register Billy's betrayal?”
“Did it hurt when you saw her join those...fuckin' maniacs?” His hand curls into a fist, hits his knee with a dull thud. “Did it? I know you two were close. Don't care to know how close, but it seemed like you two had something good. Something stronger than the weak sinew that held True Society together. D'you see it coming? See the void she'd leave behind, 'cause now what've you got? Nothing.”
“And that makes you dangerous.”
“You've never made it to the summit 'cause you've had a lot weighing you down. Your own insecurities, other people's wants and whims. You're not free of it now – you're just gonna use it to drive you, aren't you? And that's a powerful thing: wanting to defy, to control, to prove yourself. Prove you didn't need Billy or True Society, or anyone else except you.”
“So I think we've found the reason why you challenged me.”
“Is it so you could say you won a title without Billy, without anyone? That it?”
A laugh hisses through Henry's teeth as he runs a hand down his face, and if he feels the streak of blood that he draws down his right cheek, he makes no indication of it.
“Well you picked the wrong chamber in your little game of Revenge Roulette, 'cause I'm not your statement. I'm not your redemption. I'm the stray bullet in this drawn-out firefight you've gotten yourself tangled up in. And I won't kill you, no, I know you're stronger than to be put down by one lucky shot. But I will stop you. I will tear you down from this mountain you've been clinging to for too long and you will thank me. And that's not a threat, not cheap words. When you're lying down at the foot of the mountain, looking up, you gain the perspective you've lost from having your head in the clouds.”
“Me, I've got my perspective correct. I know where I'm going and it's one step closer to the top. One step higher than you've managed. With my Gatekeeper Championship around my waist, my fingers bloodied from the ascent, hands with your blood on them – with everyone's blood if I need to – I will climb the path of your spine and reach that summit. I'll be that shining example as I stand at the top, of what fight is, what strength is; what a champion should be. Driven by themselves, by no one else. Despite everyone else. I'm driven by the violence of my own hands and you, your power is shackled to the scars caused by others.”
Henry settles, breathing shallow.
“But don't worry.”
“I'll carve a path back up the mountain that is Project: Honor for you. For when you find the strength to walk on your own. And we can fight again when you're capable of giving me the challenge I know you can offer when you finally let go.”
“Like I said, I know when I see someone on the edge. So allow me to push you over it.”
He sits cross-legged on the hill, hands still on his knees, gaze towards the sun. Looks almost peaceful, but the warning hints of that storm roll beneath his expression.
“Challenging me? I have to admire that. Not many people would look at my record, my title defences, and call me out. What's it now? Three ref stoppages in a row?"
"Three worthy challengers who stepped up to me and paid the toll for their trip in blood."
"One of 'em the current Artist of Honor Champion. Another the first-ever Gatekeeper Champion – a championship I've brought to new heights. My name is etched so deep into its history now with my accomplishments, that it's a part of me. A twenty-fifth rib, a third hand to climb with, a third eye to see challenge, the future. I've shed skin, sweat, blood for this title. But I don't just defend this title with my blood.”
“I defend it with the blood of others. Of every man, woman, person that's stepped up to me for it. Every threat, every rising star, every madman, every opportunist. And now you, Savannah...”
“You think you can take it from me.”
He tilts his head, as if considering his own statement, eyes drifting across the ground.
“I'm glad you came knocking. You're my step up. All this time, I've been fighting and surviving the future. People like Yuriko, Alyssa. People who soar up the card and yet still have further to go. People with raw potential, raw power, people who sought to use me and this title as stepping stones. It's always been me standing further up the mountain, throwing those stones back in their faces.”
“Now I get to climb, claw. Odd, isn't it? Being the champion and yet facing an uphill battle. And it is a battle. You've climbed these heights before, Savannah. Look at all your previous title matches, for the Ascension, the Noble Championship, titles considered more than mine by the small-minded – most lost, but something's always gained in defeat. Knowledge of how to climb, crawl, the shortcuts, the spots where the rocks are looser, how to make them and your opponent fall. You know it well, this ascent.”
“But I'm right behind you. Breathing down your neck. What're you gonna do when I grab that rope you've been clinging to for so long now? When I make my pass? You asked for this challenge – are you gonna let go? Scream into the void and cut yourself loose when it chases you up?”
“Only way you're gonna stop me from climbing is by cutting us both down. See I've heard that I need to make real waves around here to continue my own and my title's ascent, and you, you're the ocean I need to crash into. Had main events, blood feuds, the Noble Championship. I've built my foundations up – you've built yours. And some might say your foundations are shaky. You were in main events at almost every Fallout show at one point, a top contender, a name people wanted to hunt as you cut through the competition. But now? Dulled edge. That's what some might think.”
“But I know when I see someone on the edge, I know. 'Cause I've been there. And I sense it. Some...killer instinct. It's there, fighting. Tryna get out.”
“There's a reason you challenged me after all.”
“And I know, I sense that whatever pure, primal fight lies within you is gonna come out. Hopefully in our match. Why? We all saw what happened at Fallout XXIV. Your worst day, wasn't it, Savannah? One bad night. Holt, and then Billy turning to the side of Wright. Did you even see that, even register Billy's betrayal?”
“Did it hurt when you saw her join those...fuckin' maniacs?” His hand curls into a fist, hits his knee with a dull thud. “Did it? I know you two were close. Don't care to know how close, but it seemed like you two had something good. Something stronger than the weak sinew that held True Society together. D'you see it coming? See the void she'd leave behind, 'cause now what've you got? Nothing.”
“And that makes you dangerous.”
“You've never made it to the summit 'cause you've had a lot weighing you down. Your own insecurities, other people's wants and whims. You're not free of it now – you're just gonna use it to drive you, aren't you? And that's a powerful thing: wanting to defy, to control, to prove yourself. Prove you didn't need Billy or True Society, or anyone else except you.”
“So I think we've found the reason why you challenged me.”
“Is it so you could say you won a title without Billy, without anyone? That it?”
A laugh hisses through Henry's teeth as he runs a hand down his face, and if he feels the streak of blood that he draws down his right cheek, he makes no indication of it.
“Well you picked the wrong chamber in your little game of Revenge Roulette, 'cause I'm not your statement. I'm not your redemption. I'm the stray bullet in this drawn-out firefight you've gotten yourself tangled up in. And I won't kill you, no, I know you're stronger than to be put down by one lucky shot. But I will stop you. I will tear you down from this mountain you've been clinging to for too long and you will thank me. And that's not a threat, not cheap words. When you're lying down at the foot of the mountain, looking up, you gain the perspective you've lost from having your head in the clouds.”
“Me, I've got my perspective correct. I know where I'm going and it's one step closer to the top. One step higher than you've managed. With my Gatekeeper Championship around my waist, my fingers bloodied from the ascent, hands with your blood on them – with everyone's blood if I need to – I will climb the path of your spine and reach that summit. I'll be that shining example as I stand at the top, of what fight is, what strength is; what a champion should be. Driven by themselves, by no one else. Despite everyone else. I'm driven by the violence of my own hands and you, your power is shackled to the scars caused by others.”
Henry settles, breathing shallow.
“But don't worry.”
“I'll carve a path back up the mountain that is Project: Honor for you. For when you find the strength to walk on your own. And we can fight again when you're capable of giving me the challenge I know you can offer when you finally let go.”
“Like I said, I know when I see someone on the edge. So allow me to push you over it.”
[ON/OFF] SCENE FOUR
Henry breathes deep enough for his lungs to burn, as if released from an iron chokehold. He glances around, finds himself still upon the hill where he had delivered his last words to Savannah. How long had he been there? A few minutes, judging from the still-early morning. Yet it feels like an eternity, chest aching with every breath, hand aching with every heartbeat.
He checks it, expecting another painted-black chip of wood, another remnant of his mysterious visions.
It's not another collected shard, torn from its door. It is a shard of wood though, splintering, vicious.
And it's growing out from his flesh.
For a second, he stares at it, lips parted as if inviting questions, curses, confusion. From them instead comes a haggard laugh.
He pushes the splinter deeper in, grunts through gritted teeth as it slides beneath blood-slicked torn skin. Shakes the blood from his hand, fingers numb, and shuffles down the hill into the last vestige of dawn shadow.
He checks it, expecting another painted-black chip of wood, another remnant of his mysterious visions.
It's not another collected shard, torn from its door. It is a shard of wood though, splintering, vicious.
And it's growing out from his flesh.
For a second, he stares at it, lips parted as if inviting questions, curses, confusion. From them instead comes a haggard laugh.
He pushes the splinter deeper in, grunts through gritted teeth as it slides beneath blood-slicked torn skin. Shakes the blood from his hand, fingers numb, and shuffles down the hill into the last vestige of dawn shadow.
END.
