{Marcus.}

[His head twitched a little, rousing gently from sleep to the sound of a voice he had never truly heard before.]

{Marcus, Wake up.}

[Still half-asleep, he scratched his face, trying to distinguish between dreaming, and being awake.]

{GET UP!}

[Jolted by the sheer volume, he awoke to find his face resting on coarse, dirty pavement. Marcus reeled upward to look down on what he was laying on closer, only to find a line of sidewalk before and after him. Confusedly he looked around him, watching as people milled around him as if he weren't even there.]

Gaines: What the...?

{Marcus, for your own sake, get up off the sidewalk and head for that alleyway over there.}

[He looked around him, trying to figure out exactly where this voice he heard was coming from. He glanced over his shoulder to see the alleyway aforementioned. Getting up awkwardly on what felt like two extremely rickety limbs, he limped casually over to the dark walkway until the sights and sounds of the street only lulled silently in the background. He breathed a labored breath as he felt over his body, tracing over bruises and cuts from his fight no more than a week ago. Sighing, he leaned against a brick wall and closed his eyes; Exhausted he tried to block out any remaining pain he felt, but it raged on inside his battered body.]

{You look almost ready to give up.}

[Marcus darted glances all around him, as the voice assaulted his ears again.]

{Marcus, I know you're hurting at the moment, in more ways than one, I'm sure, but don't go doing anything irrational now.}

[Feeling a rush of sadness sweep over him, he hid his face from the unseen voice.]

Gaines: Who are you, now?

{We're the same person Marcus. I'm just your everyday mind. I think the worst parts for you are over. Trust me on this one.}

Gaines: Oh yeah? My whole career was riding on that match at Anguish. And it all fell apart just like it always does for me. So convince me of whatever you want, because this time, I'm not getting back up.

{That match at Anguish was a turning point.}

Gaines: [He threw his arms up in the air and moved forward, letting his head rest gently against the side of the opposing wall.] A turning point? You call that a mother fucking turning point?! I lost the match I put everything I am into, and I won the match I didn't even know I was in until five minutes before it took place. How the hell is that a turning point. I'd call it hilarious if I was anyone else but me, right now.

{By closing a door, you opened a window.}

Gaines: [He looked to his side as a woman walked through the alley way, keeping a cautious distance from him, and regarded him with a weary glance.] Yeah, and I don't like the view.

{All right. You didn't win the title you were after, however, you'll soon get a shot at another one I'm sure. Number one contenders don't just sit in the closet forever you know.]

[He moved away from the wall, and took an argumentative stance, looking up at the sky as if that was where the voice was coming from.]

Gaines: Let's examine that for a moment. I'm the number one contender to a belt that is awarded to people who weigh LESS than two-hundred and forty pounds, and I'm supposed to feel privileged? That's like rewarding a seagull for shitting so much. Or giving a stupid person a prize simply because he or she IS stupid. It's a charity belt, and the fact that I'm supposedly next in line for the quote/unquote right to wear it sickens me beyond repair. I might as well be number one contender for the RIGHT to a membership at weight-watchers, that's how pointless that whole mess is.

{I think you're really missing the point here.}

[He pointed his finger accusingly up at the sky, as if to fire a bullet of truth out of the tip.]

Gaines: No, YOU'RE missing the point. All other titles, prizes, rewards or what-have you are meaningless to me. I've passed up chance after chance at that Gladiator Title for what? The right to fight some unheavy person for the lean cuisine title? I should say I've gotten the point rather nicely; This whole world is AGAINST me, and the very fact that I didn't get to wear that title simply because I couldn't make it to Storm in time to pull him off that weak-ass bastard Dark Tiger just adds a little more fuel to this already well-lit fire. 

[He stared for a moment at the sky, listening over the words he had just spoken. Feeling all the pent up angst of losing out on a prize he had begun to covet more and more as days passed by flush out of him. Falling down in a half-sit, he felt a single tear drop from his already swollen eye sockets. Sniffling, he wiped it away, and did his best to conceal his face from whomever might pass by.] 

Gaines: Ah well. It doesn't really matter anymore, does it? I missed that one window of opportunity, never to have it again, I'm sure. 

{So? That doesn't mean it's over.} 

[Snickering, he stood up again indignantly staring into the quickly graying sky.]

Gaines: Of course it's over. The dream is dead. I can't go on after all those little promises I made, all those worthless lies I told to myself and to everyone else. I didn't follow through on my word; I can't show my face anywhere anymore. I'll probably be laughed out of the ring if I even set foot in another GWA arena. 

{Marcus, do you have any idea how many people have done exactly what you did, and lost, coming out of a match of that magnitude even more scathed than you, and still ready for a fight the next day? Think of it like this, Dark Tiger promised a lot heading into Sunday, he came up short. As for Chris Carpenter? He all but guaranteed a win only to be rejected even worse than yourself.}

[Marcus waved his hands in the air as if to pass off the comment, turning away to again face the wall.] 

Gaines: Don't get me started on Chris Carpenter, the man literally has no spine; He couldn't have won that match had he taken more than his usual dose of steroids and pep pills. 

[Marcus paused, and looked over the ground for a second.] 

Gaines: This is absolutely pointless. As of now, I no longer have to worry about any of these guys. I no longer care what goes on in GWA. 

{Well you should.}

Gaines: [Snickering.] And why is that? 

{Two reasons. One you're still under contract, meaning you HAVE to continue wrestling until it expires. And two, I know for a fact you think differently. On the exterior you've all but given up, but I know you're just mad right now. You're letting your emotions rule you right now which is perfectly normal after a defeat like the one you suffered at Anguish.}

[Abruptly, he flew away from the wall and lunged into the air at the voice he was conversing with. Violently flailing his arms, trying desperately to take his frustrations out as quickly as possible.] 

Gaines: IT WASN'T A DEFEAT. I WAS NEVER PINNED! 

{Well, either way, you're reacting in the only way you can. It'll pass. Besides, you have a tag team match with your stablemate Shane Stevens against Rayne and Hayle, and I know you better than you know yourself; You'll feel better after beating them to a pulp.}

[He stood silently for a moment in repose. Thinking over what he had heard and considering, casually placing his hand on his chin, striking an intellectual pose while he thought.] 

Gaines: Okay, technically that's a good point. 

{I know it is.}

Gaines: Rayne and Hayle, eh? Why would Stevens and I be placed in a match against those two jerkweeds? Is this some sort of setup by Storm and his cronies? Or some higher power at work trying to pull Triple S and I down into obscurity yet again? That isn't absurd at all, I know stuff like that can happen. I mean, if it was a tag match against two guys from MOV I could see it... but Rayne and Hayle? Two guys that decided to name themselves after opposite weather patterns? Can those guys even make it to the ring without having to ride one of those short yellow buses all the way down the aisle? 

{I guess you'll have to show up on Wednesday to find out, won't you?} 

[Marcus chuckled loudly for a moment as he winked at the now overcast sky.] 

Gaines: That is slick! Very sharp. That could possibly be the only way anyone could weasel me into doing something I'm not too interested in doing at a time like this. 

{I know, Marcus; I'm you, remember? Or your mind rather. It's all very complicated so I won't bother trying to explain it all to you.}

Gaines: Yeah, yeah, ye- 

[He stopped, squinting his eyes at the sky for a second as he looked in deep thought.] 

Gaines: Wait a second. 

{What?} 

 Gaines: If you're in my mind... how come I can hear you so well? In fact I can hear your voice echoing off the walls beside me. Is this some sort of game? Angie? Debra? 

{I don't know what you're talking about Marcus. You're starting to sound even more crazy than usual.}

[Marcus squinted closely at the sky, trying to make out something high above, when out of nowhere Debra stepped out of the shadows beside him. Seductively swaying her hips as she sashayed herself towards him. Her lips curled and puckered alluringly as her finger moved towards his chest. He watched in dismay as she traced a line up to his neck, just shy of his chin line. He stepped back a bit in surprise as she practically lunged at him, planting several wet kisses on his quickly drying lips. He tried pushing her away, but she only latched one satiny smooth thigh around his leg, and pulled him ever closer to her. He could smell her perfume and almost got lost in it, but soon collected himself and nudged her gently away, only to find that she kept coming towards him. With a final grunt of dissatisfaction, he pushed her away forcefully enough to knock her to the ground.]

Gaines: What the hell is this? Where did you come from?

[She began getting up, but he placed the tip of his shoe on her uncovered chest, keeping her somewhat pinned to the ground. He looked up into the sky, trying to find that certain something he had been squinting at earlier.]

Gaines: What is all of this? Who are you?

[Silence crept over what seemed like the entire town. Only the faint sound of the breeze whistling through cracks in the stone of the buildings could be heard. He stared, feeling the woman underneath his foot struggling to get back up, then suddenly give up, and fall flat on her back. Marcus looked down on her, to find that she no longer looked like Debra, but like a short man in a labcoat and glasses. Shocked he let his foot off the man allowing him to get to his feet. As the man did so, all around him, the lights went out through the town, until only the faint glimmer of sunlight through the clouds could be seen.]

Man: Marcus Gaines, my name is Donald Pleasance. I'm an interviewer for Wrestlezone.com. We, the company of wrestlezone, knew of your mental instabilities, and figured the best way to get a totally unaided interview with you, was to trick you into thinking you were on another one of your mind-bending trips through your own skull.

Gaines: WHAT?!

[The man put his hands up to stop Marcus from coming closer and possibly hurting him. Marcus looked at him with a mix of reckless abandon, and hurt.]

Man: So what we did was create this little world for you to interact with. The voice you were talking to earlier was simply another of our interviewers. We're sorry for playing this game on you... but it seemed like the best way to get some of your candid comments on everything you've lived through these past few weeks.

Gaines: Have I been here... inside your little maze for long?

[The man shook his head.]

Man: No. Only since you woke up. We had to drug you to fall asleep, and truck you on in here. We can easily say we got one of the better interviews we've ever done simply because of this little stunt.

[Marcus looked at him crookedly.]

Gaines: And when, pray tell did you plan on telling me all of this? After a few months of me running around thinking I was living my day to day life?

Man: [Nodding uncomfortably.] Basically, yeah.

[Gaines turned, and began walking out of the alleyway for fear that he might inevitably hurt this man who saw fit to mess with his mind in such a way, until he stopped and turned to face him.]

Gaines: And what happened there with Debra? [Cocking his head to one side.] Were you actually doing all those things?

[With a forced smile, he shook his head embarrassed.]

Man: I'm afraid we had to. We had to get your mind off of the interview for a second while we adapted everything. Don't worry though... it was all mostly holographic technology. We've been messing with it for several years now and-

[Marcus lunged forward grabbing hold of the man's suit collar, and pushing him backward to his back rested against a brick wall. Desperation in his eyes, the man struggled to get free.]

Gaines: [Through clenched teeth.] You guys and your phony worlds... you will NEVER get any more words out of me, EVER. How the HELL do I get out of here? You better tell me straight, or I'll make it so you piss through your nose and eat out of your ass. Dig?

[Cowering more and more as Marcus' grip on the man's collar tightened, he lifted his finger shakily and pointed towards a nondescript door that seemed to be built into thin air. Gaines smiled for a second, then let the man drop from his fingers till he rested on his haunches. Walking confidently away, he headed for the door.]

Man: [Calling after him.] You know we can easily do this again. You'd have never known had we concealed it better... we're only going to perfect this place, Marcus. Eventually all you wrestlers will be in here for us to study... It's going to happen.

[Marcus, not letting his ears hear anything the man said, slowly walked to the door, stopping just in front of it. He slowly reached for the handle to ensure that it was actually there, then steadily opened the door revealing a backdoor exit to not only this facility, but conveniently out into the real world. Or was it?]