“They found him dead.”

Those words enter my head and rush through my brain, disorienting my vision fully. The room spins and my stomach contracts. I feel as though I’m entering a black hole, as some mysterious force puts the greatest imaginable pressure of the world on my entire body. I feel small, tiny, and my eyes see nothing but fuzz. Images rush through my mind, a visual replay of that night’s events.

“Aidan?” Jenny’s words jolt me awake. “Aidan, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I assure her, lying through my teeth. I’m definitely not okay. “I think they have me on too much medicine, I feel a little light headed.”

Jenny nods. “Okay, I’ll go get the nurse. Hold tight.” She gets up and leaves, smiling at me as she does.

This can’t be real, it has to be a bad dream. I’m delusional, they put me on too much medicine. I didn’t kill him. I mean, I didn’t mean to. I’m not a killer, it was an accident. I only wanted to rough him up a little, show him a lesson. He deserved to be beaten just like he beat Jenny. I don’t know if he deserved to... like... die. But he deserved something.

Jenny walks in with the nurse, a middle aged woman, and she takes the IV out of my arm, handing me a sports drink. “I know I shouldn’t be doing this but I know how you wrestlers are.” she says with a smile.

“Ha, thanks.” Even as difficult as it is after hearing that bombshell, I manage a smile. Albeit a weak one, but a smile nonetheless. Taking the IV with her, she leaves.

“The nurse says that you’ll be ready to check out by lunch time.”

“Really?” I’m pretty surprised, usually they try to keep you as long as they can so they can raise the bill high.

“You know...” Jenny pauses and looks down at the ground. She looks back up, biting her bottom lip before speaking. “I woke up on Saturday night and you were gone. I thought you left me. You...”

She pauses and I know what’s going on, what she’s about to say. She knows, she has to. I was gone and now Aaron is dead. The puzzle pieces are too easy to put together. I have to tell her, though, I’m sure she already knows.

“You wouldn’t ever leave me, would you?” She looks in my eyes, her blue eyes moistened with tears.

“What?” I’m taken back by the question, it wasn’t what I was expecting. “Of course not, I would never just leave you here. Hey, like I said, you can stay with me until you get your bearings, no matter how long it takes. You deserve better than here.”

Hearing my answer, Jenny immediately cheers up and comes over to hug me. As I hold her in my arms, I feel strange. Would she hold me in joy knowing what I did to her former boyfriend? Would she hold...

a killer?

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

That’s what I get for being a nice guy.

I go out of my way to say that Zach Rizza is a good guy and how does he return the favor of getting mentioned in an Aidan Collins promo? By not mentioning our match a single freaking time? No, instead of focusing on the best person he’ll ever get inside a ring with, me, he talks about Victor Gillean? Like Victor Gillean has a single thing to do with me kicking his goofy face in. The thing that Zach Rizza needs to realize is that even though he won the X-Treme Title on Sunday, he’s facing someone who’s not only better than the people who he beat at Rage In The Cage... but someone who is better than his opponents were combined. I’m not Tony Crapetti, I’m not Victor Gilligan, I’m AIDAN freakin’ COLLINS. I’m a former World Champion, the guy who dominated the Cruiserweight Division when he was a rookie. A guy that Zach Rizza better be praying to god doesn’t kill him. Not only a guy, by the way, THE guy.

Let me lay it down to you like this, Zach. You can ignore me all you want but, just like how our match won’t go away, I’m not just going to get up and disappear no matter how hard you pray to your collection of teddy bears. Unless you’re banking on not even showing up, I’m going to find you and I’m going to kick your ass. I’m not threatening you, I’m promising you. I’m a three time X-Treme Champion myself so I can firmly say that I know how to wrestle a hardcore match. Hell, I didn’t even beat a chump like Victor Gilligan to get the title, I beat FuZz, a former Universal Champion. And I didn’t just beat him, I beat him badly. Last time I checked, Zach, you haven’t won the Universal Title so if I’m able to destroy FuZz, what’s there to keep me from destroying you? I’m just too good for someone like you. Period.

What I find absolutely comical is your claim that I had a deliberate plan to hold you down in the XWC. Well, maybe my memory is just amazing (or maybe you’re retarded), but I distinctly remember a match where I gave you the opportunity to qualify for the Genesis Main Event, a match where the World Title was on the line. Did you capitalize on my generosity, Zach? Of course not, you let Mr. Amazing beat you and win the shot for himself. I gave you your shot, Zach, you just blew it! I wasn’t just going to hand you the title but I still gave you the shot which you just couldn’t cash in. Instead of pointing the “blame finger” at me, maybe you should look in a mirror and blame your lacking wrestling skills, instead. Plus, the XWC was only open for a month, stop being a baby about not being given a World Title shot and shut your mouth. Better yet, just shut your mouth totally.

By the way, Zach, what’s with this new attitude that you have now? Suddenly, you’re cocky, arrogant, and think you’re the king of the world? Wait a second... who does that remind me of? Oh, yeah, that’s right, ME! Stop biting my style you poser. I make a living off my personality, find someone else to bite off of. I think acting like Don King or Frank Zappa could do wonders for you and at least you won’t have to worry about them kicking your ass. I mean, unless they want to, I don’t think either would have a problem with a wuss like you. Anyways... I know I’m awesome and while I should be flattered that I’m such a freakin’ inspiration, I’m just plain agitated. It wouldn’t even be that bad if you were actually good. The worst thing about you acting like the best wrestler in the world is that you’re nowhere near that. Kid, you’re barely average. I have a reason to act like the best superstar in the world... because I AM.

You know, until now, I really had no reason to be interested in this match. All this match is, is a deliberate plan to keep me from winning upper-level belts. The funny this is that now I don’t even care. I don’t care that beating Zach Rizza adds dead weight that I’ll have to carry around in the X-Treme Title because beating his stupid ass is worth the effort. The look on his face as I walk up the entrance ramp holding HIS title will be priceless. Rizza, YOU WILL FEEL...

Toothless, because after I kick your teeth down your throat, you will be.

(And you thought I was going to go vintage on all your asses.)

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

People can do some strange things while under stress. Sometimes it can fuel aberrant rationale, causing some untypical results. Other times, great things can happen. When a person is backed into a corner, adrenaline flow can push a person above their regular abilities. When a person is under stress, the unexpected can no longer be the unexpected.

Maybe that’s why I’m in a confessional booth right now, waiting for the priest to join me. Maybe it’s fear. Maybe it’s because I don’t have anywhere else to go. Let’s be honest, I haven’t made too many friends over the last couple of years and I don’t even think I could confide in the friends that I have made. I’m not a religious man but I need to get advice from someone, I figured a priest would be a good start. I mean, they’re usually pretty cool aside from the whole “touching alter boys” thing, right? At least they’ll be able to give a definitive answer to what I should do, even if I don’t think it’s the right one.

I’ll admit that sitting in this little booth is doing nothing to calm me down, though. It’s nearly black in here, only a little light can squeeze through the door and find it’s way in. Places weren’t made for a man of my build, either, I feel like I’m a sardine in a can or something. I kind of even regret being a jacked piece of manmeat... Well, kind of.

I can’t see anything, but the sound of a door closing lets me know that the priest has joined me. There’s a bit of a silence and I’m not sure what to do. Like I said, it’s not every day that I do this. “Um... Do I start?” I ask.

“You may.” the priest confirms.

Where to begin? This is such a complicated situation that forgetting one little detail or telling the story in a different way might change the entire interpretation that the priest comes up with. “Well, I think it should be said that I’m not much of a religious man, father, and it is a time of great duress that has brought me here. I need counsel and I believe yours in the only one I can truly confide in.”

“It is alright, my son.” the priest comforts me. “I will do my best to help you.”

“That means a lot to me, it really does... Well, I think to start things off it’s imperative that I mention my employment as a professional wrestler. Without the traveling associated with being a wrestler, this entire ordeal would of never occured. You see, I was staying in a hotel here in Denver and I was joined by a young women who was interested in... well, my um...”

“She was a prostitute?” The priest asks.

“Yeah, she was. But, you see...”

The priest cuts me off. “Did you sleep with her.”

“No, no, I did not. She was way too young to be doing what she was planning on doing so I set out to help her. I spoke to her for hours, learning about her life’s story. I found out that this was her first time being a prostitute and since she was so young I decided to give her the opportunity to start her life over by staying in my apartment in New York.”

“And your question is whether or not this is moral?”

“No,” I answer. “Like I said, father, this story gets complicated. On Jenny, Jenny was her name, I found bruises and she admitted that a past boyfriend had abused her. I tracked down this creep and, I don’t know if there’s any better way to say this, but I roughed him up. Left him in a pile of his own blood.”

“Violence is never the best option, my son.”

“Well, it really doesn’t end there...” I take a deep breath, letting new air rush into my lungs. “I found out today that my beating killed the man, father. I... I... really don’t know what to do now.”

“Well,” the priest begins. I’m sure he’ll get riled up about how murder is a sin and rip into me. “As much as killing is wrong, it is your decision what to do in this situation.”

“Well, what do you recommend that I do?” I ask.

“I recommend that you follow your heart, my son. If you do that, then everything will right itself.”

I think about this for a second and I realize that the father is right. I need to do what I feel is right. “Thank you, father.”

I need to tell Jenny...