Dreams of Going Home

MISERY I
It occurred to him in the dressing room – as quickly as a flash of lightning descending from the sky. He was a marionette. An actor in a b-rated movie – a movie so ridiculous it made the six Sharknado films seem like high art. He was playing the part of Finn. Unlike Sharknado though – Abishag didn’t even have a Tara Reid - as strung out and drug addled as she appeared in her most recent outing against the most terrible Sharks put to film since Adam West was gnawed on by Rubber sharks in Batman – The Movie. Instead, he was truly alone in this horrible life. His brothers were bit players – Truman show stage props designed to move the plot along and wink at the audience while the star – Abishag – was none the wiser…

Until now. His anger grew inside him – blasting outwards like angry, billowing thunderheads giving voice to the rants of an angry god.

The Blob was testing him, there was no doubt of that.

It was too much.

One minute, he was a man of blob - and no sooner than the time it takes to clear a room with a fart redolent with Mackerel – his faith failed.

“GOD DAM YOU!!!” Abishag roared from his holding cell – his voice carrying over the place, waking and chilling those lucky souls who had thus far survived Kim’s sadistic games.

His fist trembled, his upper lip quivered, his nose ran and tears of rage filled his eyes.

Two soldiers standing outside his cell on night watch smiled…one even kicked the large black body bag – the one containing Buzi’s charred corpse. It seemed Kim took pleasure in making sure the combatants could be close to the dearly departed.

“I will rip your arm off and cram it down your throat!” Abishag bellowed.

The guard kicked the bag containing Buzi again. Puffs of smoke escaped through the zipper.

Abishag grabbed onto the bars of his cell and began to shake them, screaming in rage. They actually began to dislodge from the water damaged concrete they were based in.

The two soldiers began to talk quickly in Korean and one made the mistake of getting too close to tell Abishag to sit back down. He had his gun pointed at Abishag but before he could truly believe what was happening, Abishags arm shot out from the bars and grabbed the end. The giant pulled the soldier in closer by the weapon and now the other arm shot out and grabbed onto the guards head. This wouldn’t be slow. It wouldn’t be merciful. It was going to be ugly. He could shoot the guard but that was a quick death…one the now screaming guard would not get. Abishag had both hands on the side of the guards head. The other guard yelled and pointed his weapon at Abishag but the brute knew the soldier wouldn’t shoot. He was too valuable. He had to die in the ring…

…and so he could do nothing as Abishag crushed Guard #1’s head like a grape in between his hands. The head snapped and popped and then caved in, the contents exploding out onto the ground.

As the body fell, other guards arrived. They opened Abishag’s cell and eventually overwhelmed him with sheer numbers. Not before more bones and 3 other soldiers met their ends.

On the other end of the cell block, the other surviving UOW wrestlers could only sit and listen, knowing they were being marched to what could amount to a gruesome death.

A camera on the opposite side of the cell block focussed in on the commotion…

And very soon, what appeared to be a doctor and a high ranking guard appeared. They pushed past the rank and file guards and studied the fallen Abishag. The doctor touched Abishag’s ribs and the monster winces in pain.

“Kim wanted him untouched!!! He’s spoiled! Look at this! A broken rib!!” The Doctor roared.

The high ranking guard’s eyes opened wide and he begins to berate one of the low ranking guards. He then brings out a knife and opens a wide smile across low ranks neck. More guards appear to take away the current guards. No doubt they’d feed them to Belial…

If Belial were still alive.

That idiot former tag team partner of his had dispatched the little blob of clay…much to the anger of Kim.

Soon, it was quiet again. Only the sounds of Takuma Sato’s snoring could be heard.

What a miserable world this was…

Abishag, observed through the eye that wasn’t swollen shut from his beating that It was still night. The only light was still owed to the overhead light tracking. Somewhere, water dripped from a pipe…and then in his own cell – a sound. The former acolyte of the Blob turned his head…and met the eyes of a large rat. They looked at one and other…and then Abishag grabbed the thing by the neck and tore into its throat with his teeth. Blood jetted from the rodent’s wound. He tossed the thing through the bars and at the feet of the new guard patrolling the hall. It startled the man and he swore at Abishag.

“Come over here and say that”, Abishag growled as he tried to stand. His whole body ached. He had welts and bruises forming deep red tissue injuries. His face was swollen, his lip broken and clotted. His broken rib ached.

The guard knew better after having witnessed the violences not so long ago.

Abishag sat back down.

How did he get here?

One minute he was oblivious – his mind wiped – and living peacefully in Northern British Columbia. The next – Summeroff had found him and reminded him of who he was. The memories came flooding back and with them, his devotion to the Blob. Any hope of happiness and a peaceful evaporated.

Well with Summeroff gone, what was stopping him now? Buzi was dead. Only Abaddon remained.

When this tournament was over…and should he survive the matchup with Abigail Dresden and the shark pool match….was it sharks? Or was it electric eels and Piranah’s? Or boiling oil…who knew anymore.

Didn’t matter.

When this was done, he was leaving behind this life – the Blob, the brotherhood, the order, McStrump….all of them.
He would return to his home – his log cabin in Toad River - far in the North where he would hunt and fish and eat his catches over the grill on a bed of flame. That was all he wanted now. That was all he needed.

…but first he had to escape this place. Destroy Dresden and then hope the vile despot holding him here was satisfied. If not – he would be dealt with. As would the rest.

He just wanted to go home. There was nothing left in this life anymore.

As if adding to the thought, in a cell not far from him, a voice full of pain and suffering wailed out and then was silenced – only the sounds of batons rapping off bone were heard.

Then quiet.