Who doesn't love a good angst rant?
I love Cody Rhodes; of course, a lot of people do. A lot of people hate his guts but no, Rhodes owns you. Sadly, I am an angst writer and I want to torture Cody Rhodes so yeah…let the torturing begin.
Oh, and yes, my first WWE story!
And forget about the crappy title for this series thing, okay? I know it's a title from Hell but it's the only thing I can come up with. :P
Cross Rhodes to DreamStreet Series
Rated: +13 – violence, language, mentions of mature content
Summary: Cody couldn't stay. Cody broke into two many pieces. All because of Dustin…Ted and Randy have to clean up the mess before he does something too risky. PART 1 out of the Cross Rhodes to DreamStreet Series.
Engulfed him whole.
Shook him awake.
Reminded him of the haunted past.
Cut his heart.
Made his heart bleed.
"You okay, buddy?"
Blocked his heart of everything.
Make him shiver.
Beyond control of his body.
He can't do anything about it.
Wrapped around his heart…
"Dustin, I could've died…"
…and then stabbed him in the heart.
It was f-f-freezing c-c-c-cold.
Ted DiBiase's face paled, white pale, bone pale, dead pale.
"So, when I enter the ring around Triple H, I want you to hold him by the back and I'll do an RKO. If the McMahon's try anything funny, Cody can hold them down—"Randy stopped in his position when he realized that Ted DiBiase was frozen in place, completely and utterly and hopeless frozen and stiffened and hardened and solidified.
Ted's hands started to shake and shake and shake with exposed fear and dead shock and swirling thoughts.
"DiBiase, you deaf?"
Ted opened his mouth to speak but he didn't know what to say or how to say it, a hard mass of pain stabbed him in the heart, a deep cut of blood and horror. "Cody," was the only word that can come out of his mouth.
Ted's voice was dulled and beaten down, scarred and black.
"What is it, Ted?" Randy asked, sitting beside him as Ted brought the piece of crumpled white, seeming insignificant, paper close to his chest. "Ted, what the hell is it?"
Ted looked at Randy.
Dead, scared eyes.
Pale, pale, rigid body.
A little body resided in Ted's eyes.
Just f-f-freezing c-c-old inside with the fear that bubbled along with it in Ted's unexpectedly fragile heart.
"Cody-Cody's committing suicide."
They only see you when your flesh shines.
They can't see your soul as it scars.
They only see you when you smile.
They don't see you when you cry.
They only see you when you fall.
They don't see you when you crash.
Crash into your own heart's blood.
As you choke onto your own blood.
They can't see you dying.
Because they only see what they want to see.
And they don't want to see you dead.
So they ignore the fear in your eyes.
And the cuts on your flesh.
And the huge cut in your heart.
So you think they'll ignore you.
When you lie dead on the sidewalk floor.
On the floor of nothingness.
The sweet scent of Cody's skin was now dead.
Beautiful, pale, cracked, dead skin pressed up against the park's floor. His eyes were crazed and his body was rigid and cold. His breaths were short and sharp. He felt dead. He wanted to be dead.
He closed his eyes, seeing pure blackness and when he reopened his eyes, rain choked him, suffocated him, and he continued to try and breathe. "Cody!" Ted and Randy's voices were muffled.
Cody didn't care.
He'd die. He wanted to be dead.
After what Dustin did to him, he wanted to be dead. "CODY!" Ted reached Cody's body and fell to his knees and stared into Cody's scared little eyes. Randy leaned down and stared and just wondered.
The pain swallowed Cody, suffocated him, stabbed him and pierced through his body, from his head to his toes, all through and it was unbearable. Completely unbearable.
"God, we're not too late…" Ted sighed softly, smiling at himself, laughing at the rain that pelted their skins and threatened to suffocate them, and then looked back at Cody.
Cody was unconscious.
Ted stepped back, the fear suddenly running through his eyes again, his mouth hung open as he realized that…
Blood, sweet dark bitter blood, was soaking Cody's body.
A grunt escaped Cody's lips as he brought his hands together, clutched one of them to his chest, trying to make the pain stop, to make his heart stop bleeding inside, to make the darkness slip away from him.
In his other hand, Cody held a razor.
"Dust—"a high pitched scream filled the blackness at the black of Cody's mind, his high pitched scream. "W-what—?"
Inside of Cody—enough…
"You tell anyone about this…"
To make him bleed.
His own heart out.
This is just the prologue.