A New Life (Part 1 - Feat. Johnny Storm)

[Press1269]

::Press stood at the doorway, staring out the window towards the dark night. He hated this feeling that was starting to swell within him. The feeling of betrayal...loss....giving up. Is that not what he was doing though? Tammy Lynn had not gotten any better, nor showed any signs of getting better since their arrival back on this plane of existence. Redemption had changed her this time...possibly for good, and there was nothing that her lover...Press...could do about it. It killed him as he felt the feeling rise up behind his heart, making his way away from the window....staring back into the huge library that belonged to none other than "Mr. Fantastic" Johnny Storm. Press had come accustomed to standing in this library since his time here in the Storm Estate.....staring at books, reading, researching ways that he could possibly find a way to relieve Redemption's curse on his lover Tammy. But now, it seemed that there would never be a cure for her. She had fallen within the pit of no return, and now it was finally time for him to accept it....and to move on.

Matter of fact, the only reason he was still here at all was because Johnny Storm had asked to speak with him before he left.....just so as to touch base with his plans, and if he ever needed to get in touch with him...how could he. Press wasn't all that inclined to be around Johnny Storm all that much. He didn't really care for the man, but he did however respect him. Johnny Storm was everything in this sport that he wanted to be, and Storm knew it. No one needed to tell the man that he was great, because his past accomplishments spoke loudly enough. The first ever Grand Slam Champion....making history within the Gladiator Wrestling Association where they don't breed wrestlers...they breed Gladiators! But as that was all well and dandy, and there was this common respect between the two of them, there was also a bit of animosity there as well. The only thing that really bonded them together besides a wrestling ring, was the man...or rather...enigma....that both of them had come to know. Redemption was this strange being's name, and at the time.....he was magnificent. Magnificent by an evil standard, that drew Press & Tammy within it....along with his partner Flaming Youth. They were all tainted by this man, and in the end...when they found out what he really was....well that's when it really turned ugly. The man twisted them, gave them powers.....changed them for the worse. A change that wouldn't go away as easily as it came.

Tammy was the prime example, as when the entity known as Redemption was dealt a deadly blow.....Tammy didn't revert to normal as the rest of them did. She remained the same.....feral....beast that he had created her to be. The love of his life was now more animal than woman, and the standard of survival had been set. She didn't even live inside anymore....saying that she was afraid of what she might do. She had become a beast.....stalking the grounds of the Storm Estate...staying off in the woods, howling at the moon, killing. Killing animals that happened to stumble into her path, and eating them...as if she were nothing more than a crazed animal hunting for food. She stalked the gardeners & the maids as they stepped outside to do their daily chores. All of them had seen some strange things at the Storm Estate in their day, but none as strange as this. They didn't like it.....and they said as much.

Storm even went so far as to bringing in his rather large associate, Mr. Stone into the house as a security measure. Despite this change, however, Press never stopped loving her. Never stopped trying to reach her. But it became apparent to him in the last meeting that they had("Mr. Fantastic" Johnny Storm RP: "Remembering The Gladiators"), that she had finally fallen down a spiral within her own psyche......that she could never escape from. Heartbroken, but not beaten......it was time finally for him to face facts, and leave this cursed place.

The door opened up behind him, and he turned to the large double doors of the Library/Study to see Johnny Storm standing within the doorway. He gave a slight smile, but moved into the room...closing the doors behind him as if to prevent escape. Storm stepped over to the desk, walking right past Press, and came to a halt at the large leather office chair sitting behind the desk. Storm turned it slightly, and sat down.....allowing a sigh as he squirmed for comfort. Finally settled & at ease, he looked up to where Press stood.....a question forming on the tip of his tongue...apparent by the guise of his face. Storm doesn't say a word, but instead....allows his finger to trail over the top of his desk...coming to a hidden button, that sinks into the mahogany surface. Suddenly...the Desk itself seems to open up, and out of it emerges a huge big screen monitor, along with a keyboard that pushes forwards.....the monitor setting itself off to the side. Press had seen this display before, and so was not impressed as he was the first time. Storm allowed a few keystrokes upon the Keyboard, and he then smiled to himself more than to anyone in the room....as he reached over to the monitor, and spun it around for Press to see what he found so amusing.

Press stared at the logo that appeared on the screen for long moments, but was still at a loss for words. What the hell did this have to do with him, and why was Johnny Storm so intent on showing him this with that god damn cocky grin on his face? Press allowed a moment's more thought on it...and seeing as how he wouldn't get an answer if he didn't say something, he opted to actually open his mouth.::

Press: What the fuck is this?

::Johnny's smile faded as he noticed the hint of sarcasam stretched upon a canvas of asshole in Press' voice. Storm stared at him, and finally allowed the smile to over take him once again.::

Johnny Storm: This is your new assignment....if you want it.

Press: Assignment? I didn't realize that I had taken any?

Johnny Storm: So you are saying you don't want to resign your contract with The Storm Corporation? I've allowed you to live in my house, eat my food, watch from the safety of my windows as she roamed the woods...and you feel no need to repay me at all. I mean Christ...it's not like I would ask you to do something without giving you plenty of compensation. Besides...how far do you think you'll get without your Bike...without your clothes...without any money.

::Press' eyes grew wide as he stared at Storm in anger, and just as he was about to say something.....his voice failed him. Silent, he stared out the window..and it was almost as if he could feel her eyes piercing him...although she was no where to be seen. As his eyes adverted from the window, back to the screen still turned in his direction...he felt a sense of hate well within his stomach. This arrogant, rich, pansy ass prick was right. He didn't have anything other than the clothes on his back, and they were already starting to ware down to nothing. What would he do if he didn't have any money? Where would he go? How could he live, survive, eat...without anything to show for it? Press allowed a sigh, as his gerth moved in under him...and he places his hands into his pockets...his stare now becoming a dead one.::

Press: So what is it you want me to do?

::Storm smiled in delight as he looked to Press, and he leaned back in the chair with a new found confidence.::

Johnny Storm: Well...it's like this. The Path Of Rage failed me in the Fans Wrestling Federation, and the GWA's loss there caused me to retreat from their roster. It was this loss that caused my 51% of the voting stock to be forfeited back to Justin Goldman, due to a breach in contract due to my absence, and the POR's. They have cost me much, but no matter....they will be dealt with in due time(See Johnny Storm's story later on in GWA). The Gladiators now have been saying that a new woman has come in, waving her arms as their new CEO & Owner....the odd thing is..I don't remember ever selling the mother fucking thing. Well, Chastity & here ignorant ass clown of an assistant can value their time now, because I'm back from my personal buisness(to be revealed later) in Texas. I leave society for two freakin' months, and everyone goes to hell in a handbasket!

::Press smirks, and then stares back at Storm with a very serious demeanor.::

Press: Like I said before Storm...what is it you want me to do?

::Storm smiled at his impatience, and steepled his hands together to form a temple with his fingers.::

Johnny Storm: I want you to take this federation over.......carrying the banner of the Storm Corporation.

::Press smirks at first, and then.....much to the disdain of Storm....he allows a huge fit of laughter that wells from deep within, all the way out of his mouth. He holds his rib cage as the laughter echoes through out the large room. His composure is totally lost, as he finally finds a seat to sit down in....relieving himself of his feet so that he wouldn't fall over from the sudden shock of amusement. Finally being able to regain some of his seriousness, he stops and stares over at Storm.::

Press: Just like that huh.....take over the federation? Who the hell is going to go with me?

::Johnny Storm's disdain doesn't change, as he now comes to lean against the desk with his elbows.::

Johnny Storm: No one. It won't work if you bring a squad in there. You will just add to the confusion of the newnesss of it all. I want a one man army. A one man arsenal that knows something about real wars...about real fueds....and I want him to destroy each and every one of these idiots starting out in the fed.

::Press' amusement fades, as he now grows serious himself....leaning forward within the chair.::

Press: You can't be serious? One man can't take over an entire fed. Especially one where every person is new to the idea of tagging, for forming stables. It just means the man that tries is going to get his ass handed to him by several, when he is only one. You know it, and I know it. A group is what we need for this. Then, and only then, perhaps we could win a war like this. But with just me by myself....well it's impossible. I mean...I'm good. I can hold my own. I know it, you know it. But against 4 or 5 men at once.....even I'm going to make a mistake.

::Storm allows a sigh, as he looks to the screen with disappointment.::

Johnny Storm: You know Preston....I though you would be the one man I could depend on to take this task. Especially considering your involvement in the destruction of The Peoples Kliq. You were the man who showed that group of assholes fear. You were the man who broke them apart. You were the man who showed them what betrayal, dominance, and destruction was all about.

::Press' remembered the occasion, and nodded in agreement....and then suddenly stopped. Realizing what Storm was trying to do....he stared at the smaller man with contempt...leaning back in the seat once more.::

Press: Yeah Storm....You're right. I'm the one who kicked the holy hell out of the TPK, and I'm the one who made sure that they never came back. But you know....although I was doing that deed for you, I also remember my thanks....do you remember that? Cause I sure as hell do!

::Storm grimaced, hoping that it wouldn't have come to that...as he stares down at the desk now...not wanting to make eye contact with the big man.::

Press: Yeah...I bet you do remember. BECAUSE IT WAS YOUR FUCKIN' LIMO THAT RAN ME OVER THAT NIGHT, AND TOOK ME OUT OF THE BUSINESS FOR 7 MONTHS!!

::The screaming had ceased....and both Storm & Press were in silence. It took five minutes for the room to stop echoing the shout, and finally...Storm looked up from his desk, into the eyes of his one time friend, one time nemesis...and now.....his nothing.::

Johnny Storm: I've made mistakes Preston...that's the way it goes in life. We all make mistakes. But it will be your mistake if you don't take this opportunity to get back in that ring. This is a big time fed...and although it's not the biggest, that doesn't mean that it won't be tough competition. These guys are all looking to become better, and move on to better things. I'm asking you to prevent that. I'm asking you to step in there, and do what it is you do best....and that's Kick Someone's ASS!

::Press' anger was there, but he didn't heed it as he turned to stare out the window yet again. The eyes were out there..watching him...seeing him in turmoil. Knowing what was going on...because the superior hearing that she now had thanks to the curse of Redemption. She was waiting on him to say "no". She was expecting that, because he wouldn't leave her. He wouldn't let it go that he couldn't help her. Moving his eyes back to Storm, his jaw is set....lips tight into a thin line that isn't a smile nor a frown.::

Press: I'll do it. Not for you, not for You're reasons....but for me. I've been out of the ring for to damn long, and it's time that I get up, and try picking up the pieces of my life that were destroyed after Redemption.

::Johnny Storm cringes at the name spoken, and to Press' surprise.....he himself felt a twing of pain run through his face at the mention of the name. Press pulls himself up out of the seat, and Johnny Storm does the same..meeting his eyes with his own.::

Johnny Storm: I don't care about the reasons Why you do it...So long as you do it.

::Press smirks with the thought, "Same Old Johnny", running through his head. Storm reaches down, and pulls out a check book. Signing his name, he then allots a certain amount of money down into the appropriate space, and then hands it over to the big man. Press snatches it up, and then stares back at Storm with a sidelonged glance.::

Press: And what about Youth? I won't go anywhere if he's not going with me. He needs work just as bad as I do, and we're a team.

::Storm's face twists, but eventually he nods.::

Johnny Storm: Take him with you......Although I wanted only one, Two can be just as effective. I want you to sweep over this fed, and rape it of it's gold, and it's audience. I want that crowd cheering for you & Youth, I want them chanting your names, I want to hear the fans needing you.....so that if Jimmy Jackson or his ass clown staff try and get rid of you, they will never survive without you.

::Storm smirks, while Press simply listens to the monologue. Finally, Storm nods....and regains his composure, and his pleasure from this meeting.::

Johnny Storm: So is there anything else?

::Press looks at the handsome check in his hand, and then stares back at Storm with a smirk.::

Press: What about the Harley in your garage?

::Storm smiles, and then nods.::

Johnny Storm: Take it, it's yours.

::Storm extends his hand, and all he gets in return is a stare...and then a smirk.::

Press: This is all I'll be needing from you Storm...

::Press holds the check up to Storm's face, and then moves to walk past him. Storm's smile, turns to a frown as he watches the big man leave. Just as he steps out of the doorway, he stops...turning back with a question.::

Press: Who did you say was the Champion over in AW?

::Johnny takes a moment to look back at his computer screan, and then turns to face the big man with an answer.::

Johnny Storm: No Champions, entirely new Press. You and Youth have the gold laid out for you to take it. But there is some pretty tough opposition, I mean....Chase Maxim, Nate the Great....

::Cutting him off.::

Press: I didn't ask for details....I just asked for the name. I'll do all the rest. You want this shithole brought down to it's knee's....well....be glad you got your own personal wrecking crew, cause Big Daddy P is back in business!

::Press' lip curls up into a sneer, as he turns, and makes his way down the hallway. Johnny Storm smiles broadly, as he leans against his desk. This would work out well....very well indeed. Press continues down the hallway.....not stopping for anything, as he comes to the front entrance, and exits the huge Estate he had called home for almost 4 months. Stalking down the front steps, he makes his way down the paved drive towards an access road....where it trails off down into the woods.....where a large building of some sorts can be seen. As he comes closer to the building, he slows his progress, and eyes the doorway where an older man is leaning. He knew this man...had spoken with him several times. About cars, women, money......Storm. This man had seen many people come and go from the Storm Estate, but none that he could relate to like Press. Bill, the resident fix it man of the Storm Estate stepped out of the doorway as Press entered, making his way towards the Large Harley he had become accustomed to riding. Slinging his massive leg up and over, to stand on the other side of the bike...he settled his rear into the seat...and places his arms up on the handle bars....looking over his shoulder to Bill who simply smiled.::

Bill: So where are you off to Press?

Press: Well...it seems that I'm not needed here anymore, and so I'm going off to try my hand at wrestling again. Seeing as how I'm still an employee of the Storm Corporation......Johnny found me work, and decided to give me this as a consolation prize.

Bill: Ahh....Well...You look good on that there Bike. I doubt that Storm would ever bring his ass down here to ride it anyways. He always told me, and this was in confidence you know, but...he told me that he only had this bike for show. He wouldn't even know how to ride it if he wanted to!

::Press & Bill share a laugh, as Press shakes his head.::

Press: You know Bill....I don't doubt that one bit. But...I guess....I guess this is goodbye for now.

Bill: I guess it is son...I guess it is.

Press: Listen...I appreciate you letting me hang around this place. I mean...after all...how many people get to work on these calibur a vehicle?

::Calibur Vehicles indeed. Over in one part of the garage was a 1923 Rolls Royace Silver Ghost, on the other side of it ...a 1940 Cadillac Limousine. In another part of the massive garage, was a car that was number 13 in a line of only 51 ever built...the 1948 Tucker Torpedo. But the Garage wasn't just filled with fancy ritzy cars...there were sports cars galore..ranging from Lamborghini, to Firrari...but the prize of all of these sports cars, was one that stood out in particular. The 1966 Bizzarini...only one of three Bizzarini's built with the spider type body style, powered by a Lambourgini V-12 Engine. Press looked at these favorites he had come to know in his time here, and then returned his gaze to Bill who was also looking at the nastalgia behind such a grand collection.::

Bill: Aye...You have me there. Not many people do have a chance to work in a place like this, but kid...You were a natural if I do say so myself. And I do...considering I've been around the race track more than a few times. So you go out there and follow your dreams. If wrestling's it...then do it. If it's fixing up these kind of cars...then do it.

::Press nods, as Bill reaches over pressing a button..one of the many Garage Doors opening....as Press puts the key in the Harley's ignition, and then uses his feet to allow the large Motor Cycle to roar to life. Revving the engine..he sits back down into the seat, and without bothering with a helmet.....Kicks into first gear, as the Harley speeds out of the garage. He reaches even faster speeds as he moves down the stretch of roadway, grinning as the wind tosses his hair everywhere. Excitement building...as he regains a name he once lost in the wrestling industry forever.::

{Epilloge 1 - Watchful Eyes}

::Vines, and bushes bristled as she moved into a better position to watch....as the Harley Davidson made it's way out of the garage, and down the road to exit the Storm Estate. She sniffs the air, turning to see Bill make his way out of the garage door to watch Press' exit. She snarls a bit....allowing the low grumble in her throat to subside, and turn her attention back to him. She can't feel what she did for him. It wasn't the same now. She felt loyal, not love. She felt subservient, not loved. He wanted to change her, and she would not be changed. She was a beast...an animal. Wild, and craving the feel of the hunt. The same feel that overcame her body when she made a fresh kill out in the woods...blood dripping down her jaws out onto her flesh. The taste of the uncooked meat, rare....raw....slipping down her throat. How could he ask her to give that up for him? She was glad....Glad that he was gone. She hated him...hated him for what he tried to impose on her. She couldn't feel guilty, for this was her natural state. Wasn't it? Was she not always like this....and where was Redemption? Confusion had set in as she shook the notion from her mind, and her feet planted firmly in the ground...the claws of what once were hands digging into the soil. She then bursts off...on all fours....as quick as a cat, across the road. Bill watches, but isn't sure he saw what he had saw....as she disappears as quickly as she had appeared. Roaming the woods for several moments, she found the path she was accustomed to...stalking up a large heel, and then reaching rock in which she easily hopped from one place to the other...scaling it with ease. Upon reaching the top..she had a birds eye view of the Storm Estate and the surrounding land. She could almost even see the tops of the buildings in Charlotte, North Carolina. She then looked out...finding the road, she spotted him. Her vision holding for a mile's span...she watches, as the Harley exits the gates of the manor....and moves on down the road....towards the interstate....away from her.::