Release

By Archangel

Note: Some of you may be very confused by this. The Matt in this story is based off of the

one that I used to play online in a role playing community. That’s why there are so many differences.

This has been building in me since I was only sixteen years old. All of this buried inside of me… so much pain and betrayal and agony… Perhaps it even started earlier than that. My Mama. Maybe it started when she died. I was… I am my mother’s son. She was the one that I always was with, always spent my life with. She… I loved. Not that I didn’t or don’t love Daddy. It’s hard to explain. I had a dream once of making love to her. But it wasn’t a matter of sexuality. It wasn’t a matter of being “in love.” It was merely… showing her how much I loved her and needed her and missed her. It scared me back then. I understand it now.

But Robin was my turning point I know. My rape. Isn’t it strange how we say “your rape.” “His rape.” “Her rape.” And not “the rape.” Rape is always possessive. Like you own it. That’s not it at all. If rape was a possession I would destroy it and throw it away. I don’t own “my rape.” It owns me. It owns my life.

Things got worse. I was violated and scarred in the ultimate manner. And it only got worse. Jeff. Jeff claimed to be in love with me. I don’t think he ever really was. He didn’t even learn what love is until he met Raven. At least that’s what I believe. He confused brotherhood and pubescent carnal lust with love. I was the only person he trusted enough to have sex with back then. He was horny, going through those changes, confused… Innocent… until I touched him. I don’t even know why I touched him. I didn’t really want to. I mean, I wasn’t put off to it or anything and I ended up liking it… loving it… but I wasn’t doing it for love. I was doing it to keep him happy. And it worked… sorta… I worked my ass off to make his life beautiful and wonderful and now he claims that I’m the one who hurt him the most in his life. That I treat him badly, like a possession, and that I don’t love him as I should. I don’t have the heart to tell him that I never really did.

Hunter. Today I don’t feel anything for Hunter. He finally hurt me so deeply that he killed off that part of me. The part of me that loved him and needed him and endured his abuse just in the small hopes of seeing his smile… died. I had always thought that the day that happened I would go crazy. I would scream and cry and rage like always. I thought that I’d be home or at a hotel or something. But none of that came true. Hunter murdered me with laughter and I died silently in the back hall of an arena huddled next to the pop machine. There were no emotions, no words… just a silent unmourned death.

All my years I never knew what love truly was I don’t think. I supposedly was in love with Jeff, Hunter, Christian, Lita, and Adam. I think Jay and Adam were the only ones I really truly loved. I still don’t know why I never stayed with Jay. The Brood mostly I guess. And Hunter. Hunter owned me. The Brood owned Jay. We should’ve run away together. We should’ve stayed in Canada that one time I went up there with him to meet his folks. But then Adam…

Adam. Adam I love more than life itself. I don’t question my love for him. I can’t. I know how powerful my love is for him. I have shunned everyone else in the world for him. I have compromised myself for him. I have given him my heart, my soul, my mind, my body. I have broken my own morals and standards and personal rules in order to make him happy. I have become an entirely different person. I would take a bullet for him. I would deliver one to someone else for him. I have given Adam all that I am. I have gathered up all the pieces that I foolishly spread to others and given them to him. He has all of me.

But does he return it? No. Not nearly. He tries, but Lord does he try and I love him all the more. But… he loves another. Someone else also holds his heart. One who I thought was my best friend. I thought that I could trust him, could trust them both. I even permitted them the pleasures of the flesh, knowing their desires, knowing their hungers… I permitted it. And they took advantage of my allowance. They took advantage of my trust. And they still do to this day.

But no more.

No one will take advantage of my love again.

I gave of myself freely, sacrificed everything in the name of love, and no one, not a single one of them, returned what I gave.

So I’ll take it back myself.

Within the darkness of the hours before dawn I move into my brother’s house. Not a sound is made. I am a familiar and welcome presence here. Foolish trust. I enter the main bedroom and find them curled together in blissful sleep. Him. Raven. Curled in the place that was once solely mine. I raise the pistol and aim for his head. Just as I’m squeezing the trigger I hear it. A whispered word.

“Matty.”

The gunshot sounds so loud in the middle of the night. Even in the dark I can see the result, the hard jerk of Raven’s body, the way the side of his head explodes in a splatter of crimson… Blood that hits the face of my brother, who awoke and whispered my name in terror. He sits up slowly, his eyes locked on his slain mate. My hand trembles as I turn my aim onto Jeff. As if sensing me he looks up. He’s eerily calm. He knows already. He knows what’s coming. He stares at me. Possibly thinking that I won’t do it. Or maybe he remembers the dream… the nightmare we shared… I choked him to death… and then shot myself.

“Wait for me.”

“I love you. I will.”

A secondary shot sounds and I watch Jeff’s head jerk back, blood spraying over the wall behind him and the jungle printed pillowcase, his body following to topple backwards. I move quickly to his side to catch him before his lifeless body slides off the edge of the bed, blood and other fluids and tissues sliding sickly wet over my hand as I cup his head. Rivulets of blood trickle down his face from the hole in his forehead. He stares at me, seeing nothing, his eyes distant and clouded already. I close them with my fingers and tilt him back slightly so his mouth falls open to me, kissing him passionately. I then lower him to the bed beside his mate, sparing no moment of mourning for Raven. I despised him up until the end and will continue to do so until my own. I must move on.

If I had the time I would hunt down one AJ Styles and give him a piece of lead as well.

As it is I make my way back to my own home. My beautiful two story house with the Ceragem and the hot tub and the huge entertainment center and the hidden crypt for the elder Vampyre. The house that I designed myself with what little engineering skills I managed to gather in college before I was forced to drop out to care for my father. No bitterness there. No sir’ree.

I go into the kitchen first. There’s a package of ground sirloin, prime cut, Grade A, now thawed on the counter. I tear it open and give a short whistle whilst I prepare the final meal for my pets. Lucas and Frisco come in as I finish grinding up the two light bulbs I’d fetched from a lamp, mixing the miniscule little shards into the meat so fine one can barely even see it.

“Here babies… C’mere my precious children.” I say softly, filling their dishes with the deadly mixture. Unsuspecting, trusting, they eat at their special treat anxiously. I pet their sweet heads. “I’ll be seeing you soon, my son, my daughter. We’ll all be together soon enough.”

I leave them so that I don’t have to bear witness to their torment.

Upstairs I enter the bedroom I share with my husband only to find him sharing it with someone else. Him. Chris Jericho. Seeing the smaller blond curled so comfortably up to Adam’s side makes me wild with anger. I hesitate not. I step over to the side of the bed and set the barrel directly against his temple, seeing his blue eyes fly open. Before he can move he’s dead and Adam is wide awake, jerking away, jumping out of bed and backing up, staring in mute horror at what I just did.

“Matty… no… oh God Matty, what did you do?”

I stare at him. I stare him down, not giving a second glance to Chris’s bloodied body lying in our bed. I see it in my bonded mate’s mind. He’s searching for the others. Chris is dead. Jeff… dead. Raven… dead. And the only other ones are Jay, David, and Shannon.

“Call out for your father.” He blinks at my words. “Do it! I dare you to scream for his help!”

“Matty…” He whimpers again, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Oh my God! Mattybaby… Carolina I’m so sorry! I love you, Matty. Matt, please. I. Love. You.”

“You love Chris.”

With that I pull the trigger, emptying the rest of the magazine into him and watching the blood fly as he screams. The right side if his chest, the left side of his chest, and then his head. I don’t look. I instead go over to the computer desk, opening the bottom drawer. Dropping one clip out, I pick up the other and lock it in. Now… I go to him.

He lies on his back on the floor, moonlight flooding down on him from the window. I drop to my knee next to him… now I start to cry… now after it’s all said and done I begin to wail in agony. Look what I’ve done to my beautiful sweetheart. The blood runs over his chest and face and stains his hair. His face is trapped in a permanent look of pain… and sorrow. He knew why. Before he died he realized what he had driven me to. I gather him into my arms, sobbing.

“Addy… Addy please I’m sorry. I love you. My glorious Adam.”

I reach up and close his eyes as I did Jeff’s… and see tears roll down his cheeks again. My own match his. I shift him so that I can hold him in one arm, clinging to him tightly.

Five years ago my Daddy bought me a gun. A .45 automatic pistol. A Glock 36. Said it would be great to blow bottles off the fence with or to protect myself and my home. Told me it had 3 safety features on it so it’d be okay to keep.

I put it to my head and squeeze.

The End

Legalities: Chris Jericho is copyright to himself. Christian Cage and Raven are copyright to TNA Wrestling. Jeff Hardy, Matt Hardy, and any other mentioned characters are property of World Wrestling Entertainment. I claim no knowledge of each of the characters sexual preferences or lives. This is a story of fiction, none of these events are real. I received absolutely no profit from this story.