Post by Lad Morales on Oct 24, 2024 20:45:42 GMT -6
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It was a nightmare that Lad couldn’t wake up from.
The fire department got there fast. Nothing spread, thanks to the somewhat sectioned off location. No one died, but two people got hurt. Mrs. Angela Brunson was helping clean the church before Sunday service. She was in the back when the fire engulfed the nave. It was a blessing as Pastor Arlo Morales was able to rush through the church and get her out.
His heroics didn’t go without consequences.
“He’s currently in a medically induced coma. The smoke inhalation and the burns he received are the major contributors.” The doctor’s voice echoed in Lad’s mind as he stepped into Arlo’s room.
Guilt churned in his stomach, but it was rude to vomit. Arlo looked strong, despite the bandages covering his body. Some of his tattoos peeked through them, symbols of the man who came before.
“He will make a full recovery, but it’s going to take time.”
He watched the whole incident unfold on television.
“I was supposed to have your back,” Lad said.
He was celebrating his title victory. JoJo, or whatever the Beast, stalked his home. Sybil, Maria, or anybody else could have been in danger.
“I’m sorry, Pastor,” Lad said, between forming indentions in his teeth.
His unborn child could have been a target.
When guilt sank, rage clawed up. Lad bit his lip, hard enough to bleed. He wiped it away, and then stared down at Arlo. Out of his peripheral vision, something glistened. Lad looked over to it, seeing a bracelet lying on the table nearby. Pastor coupled it with his watch, often playing with it when he was thinking. Lad grabbed it, finally given the chance to inspect it. Engraved upon it were the words: “Matthew 18:21-22.”
21 Then Peter came to Him and said, “Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? Up to seven times?”
22 Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you, up to seven times, but up to seventy times seven.
Lad closed his hand around the bracelet, glancing back at Arlo. Tying it around his own wrist, Lad felt a strange relief overtake him. He offered a smile to the man who couldn’t see it. “I’ll bring this back when this is dealt with.”
Even when he was unconscious, Pastor Arlo Morales found a way to give his boy some advice. Lad fixed the bracelet so it wouldn’t slide off. He hung over Arlo for a moment. Despite seeing the damaged form of the man who took him in, Lad had to tell him what rested on his tongue.
“I’ll do my best to remember those words. I can’t promise anything, though,” Lad said.
He paused, hesitant to speak again. But he had to.
“I love you, Pops. I’ll handle this,” he nodded. “Like you would.”
Lad left the hospital, turning on his phone. After the bootup, news reports covering the fire, people texting him about Arlo, and some EWC-related topics came in droves. Lad ignored them as he continued towards his next destination.
“I was scared.”
Those were the first words the Undisputed Champion said to the EWC audience as his promotional work began. He relied on a voiceover as he traversed through the busier areas of his hometown. He sat on the subway, his head lowered. People hung around him. Some that recognized him offered a few words of concern, but nothing more.
“I thought I would be angry when I took the first plane back. When I saw Pastor, I thought I would find it in me to hunt the Beast down. When my mother cried in my arms, I thought I would go and end this main event before it even started,” Lad explained. “But I wasn’t. I was scared. Because somebody in this sport went that far just to try to send me a message.”
“When you take something from a man, you expect retaliation. That’s especially the case in this sport,” Lad reached into his phone, finally confronting some of the notifications. “I knew JoJo would escalate things, but maybe I’m just too inexperienced. Or maybe I still had faith in Jon Rushman.”
Lad looked at the picture of Arlo, positioned under the headline about “Lad Morales’ Father In Critical Condition After Church Fire.” The Undisputed Champion grimaced. “But I didn’t think he would do something like this.”
The champion exited the subway, standing only a mile or so away from the church grounds. “Maybe I hoped that Jon would relent after I beat the Path. Or maybe he would just come after me until the night of his rematch. That I could deal with, but what he ended up doing was more than I could ever expect. He put us into the Fight Pit; he made sure that we were alone.”
“But instead of facing me head-on, he let the Beast devour him,” Lad squinted as he pushed out into the open air. “The Beast is the manifestation of the darkest parts of our sport. It’s the same parts that I’ve tried to overcome since I’ve debuted. Really, the Beast isn’t Jon Rushman. It’s every ounce of his hatred and violence given form. And the Beast has come to see me. With that comes every degree of violence he’ll unleash upon me.”
“This match isn’t just about keeping my title. It’s about everything that I stand for. Losing it to the Beast, losing it to Jon, after everything he’s done?” Lad tried to cap his stress by rolling his neck. “It would mean more than just handing over my title. It means letting the Path’s brand of violence take hold again. I managed to stop it. So I can’t let that happen again.”
“The Beast may be a predator, but I’m not prey,” Lad stated, walking down the street. He passed by different places, many of which had news stations on. Another constant reminder of the tragedy that took place. “This won’t be the story of how the Beast ate the Lad. No, this is a story as old as time. A Beast meets a Warrior of God that drives it right back down to Hell.”
“So I’m not scared now,” Lad said. “I’m just ready.”
Before long, Lad had made his way to the ruins of the church. The structure of it was not fully gone. It looked more as if it was cleaved by a sword bigger than the world itself. The scent of burnt wood assaulted Lad’s nose before the sight of the remains did. He moved underneath the caution tape, but he hesitated moving forward. “The Book of Revelations told me that you were coming, Beast, but you’re not walking into a fight. This is gonna be an exorcism. Because while I’m going to defend my title, I’m coming for Jon’s soul.”
“If he felt the need to let you come forward, then he’s the one that needs to be saved. He may want this match to be the end of me, but it’s the end of you,” Lad lowered to the ground, feeling the damaged earth. “You won’t win this fight because God gave me all the tools I need to take you down–and you gave me more by hurting my father. And in a twist of irony, Jon trapped us in an arena where the Path can’t save you when this doesn’t go your way.”
“You want to leave me as a bloodstain on the mat. It’s easy for you. I’ve had to ask myself if I’ll go beyond what’s needed? Do I make sure Jon can’t hurt anybody ever again? Do I make a spectacle out of my vengeance?” The champion took the brave first steps towards the wreckage. “Because it’s human nature to seek retribution, right?”
“Well,” he paused, “I remembered two things.”
“One is that I can’t let Pastor down like that. Arlo threw himself into this very building to save somebody from what you did. I can’t disrespect my father by being a lesser man. He had all the power to put you down, but he decided to save somebody instead. And that’s what he always taught me. He built his new life off deciding to be better, and so I’m going to here. Even if it gets me hurt,” Lad stood at the threshold, remarking over the door frame still standing.
Lad felt that he could smell the money he put into the church. It all came from his first EWC paycheck. Before he entered, he took off a backpack he had been carrying. Rummaging inside it, he spoke again. “The second reason is because of the very thing we’re fighting for,” Lad fished out the Undisputed Championship. He kept it hidden in hopes of protecting it from reckless people. He put it on his shoulder, then spotted the reflection of the destruction in its golden shimmer.
He glided his finger over the nameplate. “I’m the EWC Undisputed Champion. Hate and blood made this title valuable. JoJo carried this championship, still dripping with Xavier’s blood. But I believe that being the champ means I have a responsibility to be better. If I did the same thing that Jon did, then what’s the point?”
Lad stepped into the church finally. He felt his heart rate increase. Immediately, he glanced over to the confessional booth. He could see Pastor sitting there, doing his best to help Jon out. The champion felt his eye twitch. “There are probably gonna be kids watching. They might be like me, see themselves in me. So I can’t be like you.”
“This is the real Undisputed Championship match. You won’t have the Path and I won’t have backup. It’s just us at the end of the world. You will bring hellfire and brimstone to me just like you did here, and I will take it all in stride. My life has always been that, as I’ve found out recently,” a moment of reflection came, “My father was horrible to me and my ma. And if it wasn’t for the family I have now, I’d be nothing. But now, I’m someone people believe in.”
“So, really,” Lad said, gazing at the ruined pews, where people would have sat this Sunday. He didn’t realize that he was two steps away from the altar. He looked up, then his eyes widened. Miraculously, the statue of Jesus on the Cross wasn’t harmed. It made him smile. “I forgive you, Jon.”
He squinted, a new thought breaching up. “No, Santiago Morales forgives you, Jonathan Rushman.”
The revelation didn’t make him pause. “That is my name. And I wanted you to hear it so you understand where my heart truly is. I don’t hate you, but I know what must be done.”
“Through this match, I want to help you. I will cast the Beast out with everything that I got. Every suplex. Every hold. Every way to survive from beating Raca Jakodi, Dalilah Ashe, and Caleb Scott. Anything that was passed on to me after I fought Marcu$ $t. John, Xavier Reid, and the Mercenary. And every way I’ve learned to fight when going through wars against Cosmo, Callum, and even you, Jon,” Lad made his way to the back office area. Light fell in from the openings the flames created. “And where there’s nothing left, the Lord will give me more.”
The champion found his way to Pastor’s office. He stepped in over the fallen, broken shelves. The desk had caved in and the computer was left scorched and useless. He knelt down and picked up what he had hoped to find here. It was the picture of Arlo holding him as a baby. He was the first person to hold Lad outside of his mother, a sign of how much he cared for him even before taking him in. “When that’s gone, everything that Pastor, my mother, and Sybil gave to me will push me further.”
“And finally, after all that, if I still have to fight more to put the Beast down, I will look within myself,” Lad stood to his feet and put his hand and the picture over his heart. “I will find whatever else I need there because there’s no losing here. I don’t want my legacy to be one of failure like it is with the United States Championship. I can’t let my family down. I can’t let Pastor wake up to a world where his sacrifices don’t matter.”
He tucked the picture away in his bag. “At Youngblood, the Path couldn’t break me. I took everything that Jon had. If I can do that, I can do this. That’s all I have to depend on.”
“After I beat you and the Beast, Jon, I hope you can learn to forgive yourself.” The champion continued, heading down a path the audience hadn’t seen yet. Lad didn’t live at Arlo’s house. Soon enough, he made it to where he rested his head. His childhood room within the church had been burnt the worst. Lad’s lip tugged, but he choked back the immediate emotion. “Because after I win this match, we’re done.”
“After Monday Night, this will be the real start of the Lad Morales Era. I’m moving onto WrestleFest and I will face whoever wins the Rumble. So I don’t want to hear from the Path during that time.” he took a beat. “I don’t want to do this with you ever again. You deserve to rest. You deserve to try to be better because I’m sure there are people that know you can be better.”
Lad walked towards an opening, the remnants of a backdoor. “You were doing well when you came here, Jon.”
Taking a step out into the open again, the camera caught the sight of something that remained unharmed. It was a garden. It was Pastor’s hobby, something he was quiet about–almost embarrassed. Lad walked to it and sat down, staring back at the destroyed church. “The Beast destroyed the place where I learned who I was. All because it wanted to make a statement and hurt somebody I love. But I was taught that destruction never lasts.”
“We will rebuild what was destroyed. Because you can’t get rid of the foundation.” Lad said, nodding to the church. “When the church is brought back, I’m inviting you to come visit.”
“But Monday Night, here in my stomping grounds of New York City, we’re ending our story,” the champion glided his fingers over the daffodils Pastor loved so dearly. He then took in a deep breath to overwhelm the stench of destruction with the scent of life. With a gentle smile, the Undisputed Champion accepted the peaceful atmosphere.
“As far as our war is concerned, Jon, this is the last time I’ll say this.”
Lad then took a deep breath and let out all his hate.
“I’ll be seeing you.”
The camera then panned away from Lad, letting the church be the final sight. Upon the screen, text appeared, carrying a prayer for forgiveness.
"Father, please forgive me when I allow anger and bitterness to fill my heart because I refuse to forgive someone who has hurt me. Teach me how to lay down my rights and choose to forgive in the same way You have forgiven me."
The feed then faded to black.
