| La Envidia Mata RP#1 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 1 2010, 08:58 PM (255 Views) | |
| The Corporation | Apr 1 2010, 08:58 PM Post #1 |
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“So Manuel tells me that you have been having some headaches lately?” The wrinkly old woman asks, pushing her red rimmed glasses up further onto her nose, attempting to register some sort of expression through the tangled mess of La Envidia Mata's black hair. Silence. “What seems to be the problem?” “I need a prescription for Vicadin.” La Envidia Mata responds, distantly. “Well I'm afraid I cannot prescribe something to you if I do not know the problem.” “Headaches.” “Well yes, I know. How long have you had these headaches?” “A long time.” “Well, perhaps we'll run some tests and then we can try to figure out the cause of the problem. We'll start by examining your diet, your reaction to light, and other such things to get a full perspective on what may be causing your headaches.” “I don't do tests.” “Well, I'm afraid I cannot just give you medicine without diagnosing you first. There is always over the counter pain medication if you need it. Otherwise, we must do some tests.” La Envidia Mata lunges forward and grabs the old lady by her white coat and forces her up against the chair she's sitting in. “Prescribe me the damn pills!” “Help!” She screams, but La Envidia Mata covers her mouth with his hand. “I'll make this really simple. Give me the damn pills, or I'm going to make sure that you never prescribe another medication in your life.” La Envidia Mata releases the woman, and she immediately scrambles for her prescription pad. “How many pills do you need?” She asks frantically. “500.” “I can't justify that!” La Envidia Mata grabs the woman by the shirt again, and raises his fist to her head. “500 pills, or so help me...” “They'll never fill it! They will call me and ask me for a new one. I swear.” La Envidia Mata drills his fist into the old woman's face, causing her glasses to fly off of her face and shatter, and her body to fall lifelessly to the floor. --Nothing.--- David Mata nibbles on a blood soaked cracker. A dawn cracker, because the sun has just risen, the rooster is crowing, and the hens begin their incessant clucking. His fingers are weak, the strength having been sucked from them by a previous two days of nothing. No-one is around, no human life whatsoever. Only the sound of the farm animals echoing in the distance and the dust from the barn floor keep him company. The only thing he has eaten in all of this time was crackers, a box of them, conveniently tossed inside the cage and spilled out into the dirt clobs. The crackers are bloody because David had bled. He has suffered the nights previous much as a dying patient, clinging to hope that he will live, that the bleeding under his fingernails will stop, that the rooster will crow so loud this morning that someone, anyone, will hear and rescue him. He made out little fantasies in his head about how the cows will all plot his escape. They will all moo the plan to each other, then rush through the door of the barn and chew the cage's door lock clear off. Or perhaps the chickens, being that they were so inclined to make a ruckus and fuss about all day, will all flock out of their pens and fly into the barn and peck David to escape. Certainly some animal will come and rescue him. “Help.” David manages to moan, but it is too raspy and weak to project any sort of sound other than guttural nonsense. “Help.” He tries again, only to suffer the same fate. His cold dirty body stretches itself across the barn floor, naked. He thinks about sweat, wetness, and the magnetism for dirt. Such things one never thinks about until alone, caged, and covered in scatological dust. David Mata is reduced to nothing more than a brute beast. He is an animal, much like the others on the farm, at the mercy of some kind life force to save him from his suffering. One might expect a triumphant and heroic rescue from Oliver Ranken, Killer White... or better yet our most sympathetic hero: Asesino. But none of them cares of David Mata enough to bother wasting time on him. He is nothing more than brute beast to them, and why not? David shows nothing but contempt and utter disgust for them, and wishes them sick, dying. But when backed into a corner, or cage rather, David realizes the folly of his actions. How silly is it of him to continue to treat these fellow humans in such a deplorable manner? It's not right. He vows here and now that he shall never again hurt another soul if, God be with him, he can make it out of this. God. La Envidia Mata hates it that humans believe in such nonsense, such abstract concepts: faith. That's not what David is supposed to be getting out of this situation, and La Envidia Mata knew it. It's as if Asesino has something to do with all of this, some sort of distant connection with David that gives him hope. Sensing the worst, La Envidia Mata charges out of the house towards the barn with a synthesized psychopath string orchestra looming over his head. David misremembers key passages from the Holy Bible. All he can aspire to in this situation is a little bit of grace. “God be with me. God be with me.” David thinks. But God is not with him, no, far from him as La Envidia Mata has his wish. La Envidia Mata bursts through the entry of the barn doorway. David notices, taking good measure of the situation, and wails out a blood curdling scream, coupled with rapid strokes of the horse-tail bow upon the highest pitch string of the violin, sending all of the barnyard animals into a mass frenzy, startled by the suddenness of it all. David wishes that a barnyard insurrection would be possible. But even the animals don't take pity upon him. He is sprawled out, feeble and contorted, cowering, his internal organs shaking at the horror he beholds. Even God himself would cower at La Envidia Mata's feet, were he to be present and gaze into the cold-hearted eyes of this deeply malevolent man. Perhaps his mother and father never gave him any hugs. Or perhaps they gave him too many hugs. Or perhaps he just delighted in stabbing things and letting them bleed until they lost all hope. Whatever the case may be, La Envidia Mata stood staring a hole deep into David, perfectly still like a statue. The moment was so awkward, so hesitant, that David used his forearm to wipe the permanence out of his eyes. La Envidia Mata puts his right foot forward, begins striding proudly towards David, swishing his metallic saliva around in his mouth, reproducing the sounds of mangled guts, displaced intestines being squeezed, squished. “Please,” David rasps, his lip quivering, “save me.” La Envidia Mata stops, his boot stomping hard against the concrete at the door to the cage. He kneels down in front of the door, placing his hands on his knees. “One that heals by every occasion eyes the rasp of odium.” La Envidia Mata says. “Yes. Please save me.” David cries. “Your starry eyes hiss virtuousness of a most evanescent nature.” “Please... I beg of you. I will do anything.” “...Anything?” La Envidia Mata stands up and runs his fingers across the mesh of the steel cage, then presses his lips to the steel and gives a long, sensual kiss. “You will do Nothing.” David pulls himself over to the side of the cage with his arms, scooting like a sore puppy would after being neutered. David grabs the cage with his scabby fingers, his eyes swelling with tears. He leans down and kisses La Envidia Mata's black leather boot through the cage. “Please.” David says. He kisses La Envidia Mata's boot again, this time more passionately, holding it, savoring the dark membrane that conceals such a darker soul. La Envidia Mata closes his eyes, and breathes in deeply, savoring the submissiveness. Then, in one fell swoop, La Envidia Mata kicks David right in the mouth. David rolls backwards with blood spurting from his mouth, sepulchral whimpers pulsating from his voicebox. La Envidia Mata smiles, admiring the crimson splatter on the dull concrete floor. Even Asesino would be envious, he thought. “Blunt force trauma to the mouth.” He says, as if naming his exhibition. La Envidia Mata steps over to the door, and digs a black key from his pocket. He opens the door, and pulls it shut, locking it behind him. He looks over his shoulder towards David with lurid eyes. “Finally.” La Envidia Mata says, turning around. “We meet here in the cage. Just me and you, one on one. But something is wrong. What could it be? Oh yes. I am standing, and you are on your knees, stripped of all your pride. Do you still covet the World Title? How can you, looking like this? I have brought you on your knees before me to announce to the whole world that you now have nothingness. Everyone behold: Asesino has nothing.” The words “I'll do anything” echo over and over in La Envidia Mata's head. Each passing echo drives a stake further into La Envidia Mata's heart, until finally he can take no more and punts David Mata in the kidney. “Nothing! Nothing! Nothing! Nothing! Nothing!” La Envidia Mata shouts. David's bare back has a bright red welt that begins swelling immediately. “You will do Nothing! You will accept Nothing!” La Envidia Mata lunges on top of David and begins punching the back of his head as hard as he can. David tries to cover his head, but to no avail as La Envidia Mata lays in one punch after the next. Finally, La Envidia Mata backs away as David rolls over in the fetal position crying. La Envidia Mata walks over to the side of the cage and begins shaking it rapidly, over and over, watching intently as the cage shakes and waves and clanks together shooting metallic twangs up and out the top of the barn. La Envidia Mata presses his hands to the cage and begins running up and down the side of the cage screaming, running his fingers through each steel link, summoning the spirits that live within. La Envidia Mata begins to sing, melodically, and crazed. “We meet at Resurrection in a 4 Way Match... you will fall down the spiral.... you will fall, fall, fall! You want to take me on so bad, you want to take me out... You're going to die. You will be dead. That's what I said. You'll be dead. There'll be monsters with a thousand eyes, and pestilence raining from the skies, and you... will... be dead!” La Envidia Mata rushes over and picks David up off the concrete, holding him up as he is too weak to stand on his own. La Envidia Mata grabs David in a Codebreaker position, screams, then falls backwards delivering a Codebreaker... The Godbreaker. David's jaw cracks off the knees of La Envidia Mata, and he lies limp on the concrete, not moving, perhaps... dead. La Envidia Mata stands, seething in anger, pointing at the body. “I told you not to mess with me Asesino! I told you that you will have nothing, and damn it I mean nothing!” It didn't take but a few moments of silence for La Envidia Mata to reflect on what he has done. He notices the body, the blob of David Mata resting on the concrete, motionless. He kneels down, hesitating, sighing a deep sigh. La Envidia Mata leans in close to David Mata's ear. He whispers. “Nothing.” --Nothing.-- “Let go of my arm. Damn it. Let go.” “Shut up, whore.” La Envidia Mata says as the skinny woman wearing nothing but a pair of short jean shorts and a purple sports bra tries to break away from his tight grip on her arm. “Let go of me!” She screams. La Envidia Mata twists her arm behind her back and she lets out yelp so loud that it echoes throughout the empty city. “We're going to do this the easy way.” La Envidia Mata says, opening the trunk to the black car and shoving the woman inside. She tries to fight her way out, but he slaps her across the face. He slams the trunk lid down, gets in the car and speeds off. --Nothing.-- A prickly thorn bush seemed to scratch the back of La Envidia Mata's leg as he sat next to the bed, the bed where David Mata lies, his blackened eyes closed, his face a mangled mess. But there is something different about him this time, some soft glow that illuminates his face. It's a healthful glow, as if that there is such a thing when applied to the broken mass that he is. “Wake up.” La Envidia Mata commands. Silence. David Mata does not move, he is as still as the bed itself, save the slow methodical breaths that he is taking. “Wake up!” La Envidia Mata yells. Nothing. Just as La Envidia Mata had wished, so it came to pass. David Mata, the unfortunate metaphor this week, is destroyed. La Envidia Mata shakes David's arm. “Up.” He says. Still, nothing. The silence sent La Envidia Mata deep into reflection, deep into the confines of his mind, opening up treasure boxes that have long been sealed. And there, at the bottom of the deepest box, he finds his epiphany. You cannot command nothing. Such a thought struck a dull pang in La Envidia Mata's heart, a pang that resonated throughout his entire body. This whole time he wanted to delve David Mata into nothingness to prove that you cannot command nothingness, but he did not think things through. David Mata was him. He was David Mata. It was maddening to think that he could not command something that he created through destroying. David Mata had fallen so far down the spiral that he was in the void. “I should have just left him at the tip of the spiral, hanging on by a string.” La Envidia Mata realizes. But it was a realization all too late, as David was unmoving, in critical condition, and La Envidia Mata could do nothing about it. He resolved then and there that on Sunday, come Resurrection... He will not let Oliver Ranken, Killer White and Asesino have the same privilege as David. They will dangle from the end of the spiral. They will become the puppets. --La Envidia Mata.-- |
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2:51 PM Jul 11