Post by Everyday Heroes on Dec 18, 2016 22:03:41 GMT
'When you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you.'
I'm not sure who said that. I remember reading it on the front of a Marvel comic when I was like eleven or twelve, and it stuck with me; but I can't remember who the actual author of the quote was.
I guess it doesn't matter who said it. What really matters is, they were right. When you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you.
Especially when it's not an actual abyss, but a luchador mask.
I meant to give it away. I really did. I meant to leave that part of my life behind completely. But in the end...I couldn't. In the end, when push came to shove, and it was time to let go of the last thing linking me to the person I'd been for all those many months...I couldn't. I chickened out. I covered up the hole I'd dug behind the Pollo Hall in San Antonio, pretended I'd buried so Walt and the girls wouldn't be suspicious...and kept it. I took it home, hid it in a drawer where I knew Jenny would never look, and tried to convince myself I had done the right thing, that some memories are not meant to be gotten rid of, that keeping it would help me remember who I was and make sure I never went back there.
And the funny thing is, for a good long while after that, that actually turned out to be true. For a good long while, I used that white mask as a reminder of the darkest place I had ever been in, and as a way to keep myself in check and make sure I toed the line. Every time I let anger overcome me, every time I felt frustrated, every time I wanted to forget who I was, start over, be someone different...all I had to do was think of that mask, and of where wanting to be someone different had led me the last time. And it would work. I would go back to the straight and narrow, Be good old law-abiding Jason. Nana's little Jaybird. The leader of the Everyday Heroes. And that other dude, the dude I had once become, the dude who had gone to that dark place not so long ago, would stay at the bottom of that drawer, folded up, never to be taken out again.
Until today.
I don't know what drove me to do it. Actually, scratch that: I know exactly what drove me to do it. What I don't know is how I let myself go through with it. Every other time before now, I managed to stop myself. Bring myself to reason. Make myself see that going back there was a bad idea. That it wouldn't end well, couldn't end well. Every other time before now. I'd manage to avoid disaster.
This time, though? This time, it was like my brain had been overthrown, and my limbs had taken over by force. One minute I was firing up the Gamecube, trying to lose myself in a good old Melee, and the next I was upstairs, reaching into my secret drawer and pulling out the one thing I'd promised myself I would never bring out again.
I'd forgotten how tattered it was; in my mind, it's always sparkling new, like it was the first time I got it. It's only when I actually look at it that I remember everything it's been through, up to and including the most bittersweet night of my life – the night when Tiger Mask Red (formerly known as Tigre de Jengibre, later as Flynn Buck and Eli Buchanan) shot a fireball straight at my face, throwing away his chance at recovering his Pollomania Supremo Title but getting one up on me nonetheless. That night, I walked out of the Pollo Hall a technical winner, but an actual loser. That night, Tiger Mask showed me he was willing to throw away a battle if it meant winning the war.
That night was the beginning of the end for El Vainillo.
Just remembering it brings tears to my eyes, and I feel my body convulsing with sobs. I knew this was a bad idea. I knew I shouldn't have brought back ghosts that should have been buried to begin with. I knew I should have let sleeping dogs lie. That saying exists for a reason.
And yet...I have to do this. I need to do this. I have a point to prove. And this mask, this charred piece of cloth that was once white and shiny and made hundreds of fans happy every other week...is going to help me prove it.
Sawtooth Grin thinks I'm a pushover, a pipsqueak who keeps getting lucky. He thinks I don't have what it takes to take him on, one on one, without any of our friends around to help either of us. He doesn't know what he started when he tried to attack my friends. He doesn't know the fuse he lit inside me. He doesn't know how many sleepless nights I've had this past month, just thinking of ways to make him pay for what he and his buddies wanted to do to Walt and Cherry.
He doesn't know...but he's going to find out soon.
He's going to find out what happens when you make Jason Michael O'Ryan angry.
He's going to find out how far I can go when I'm pushed.
The way Tiger Mask Red did last year, not long after he burnt this mask and set me free.
I stare down at it once again, taking in every line, every detail, every bit of gold glitter. I close my eyes and say a quick prayer, asking God to give me the strength and courage to do what I need to do.
Then, with a deep sigh, I put it on.
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'You see this mask, Sawtooth?'
I'm sitting at the dinner table, talking into my webcam. I don't want to impose on Jenny and Lyndsey, and I don't really need anything fancy anyway. It's what I'm saying that matters, not how good it looks.
'This mask is the symbol of everything you don't know about me. This mask is proof that I am more than meets the eye, more than you think you am. This mask is a reminder of just how much I can take when somebody pushes me to the limit, just how much I'm willing to sacrifice to make wrongs right. This mask is my dark side, Sawtooth.
And when you tried to bully me last month...you unleashed it.'
It's true, too. I can feel it bubbling inside of me, just waiting for the right time to break loose.
But not yet. I'm not giving in that easy.
'You see, Sawtooth...when you got in my face after our Trios title match...when you and your buddies tried to take my friends out...when you made me lose my cool in front of all the little Heroes out there in those stands...you brought something up inside of me. Something only one person had ever been capable of bringing up. The same person who burned this mask.'
I point at the charred underside of the mask, as I glower at the camera through its eye sockets.
'Sawtooth...have you ever heard of Tiger Mask Red? If you haven't, let me tell you a little story. Tiger Mask Red was the Pollomania Supremo Champion, until some Vanilla Midget came along and took his title. And Tiger was mad. So mad, he decided to make things personal. So he came after me. Not after my title...after me. He didn't just want his title back. He wanted to hurt me. He wanted to humiliate me. He wanted to make sure I was taken down for good. And he was willing to do whatever it took to achieve that. Including throwing a fireball in my face and nearly putting me in the hospital.'
I once again touch the charred mask, feeling my voice catch in my throat as I continue:
'Guess what, though, Sawtooth? Even after all he did to me...even after attacking me time and again, busting my face open, burning my mask...Tiger still failed. He still couldn't take his belt back. He still couldn't put me down for good. On the contrary...he freed me. He pulled me out of the dark place I'd been sinking into. He helped me find myself again. Helped me find out where I wanted to go and who I wanted to be.
But most importantly...he helped me realize that a true hero may bend, but they'll never break.''
I lean forward, closer to the camera.
'That's right, Sawtooth. Tiger couldn't break me, and neither will you. You know why? Because I've been through worse than you can put me through. I've been to darker places than you can take me to. I've felt more pain than you could ever give to me. And I survived. I came back out the other side, stronger and more confident than I was going in. Because that's who I am, Sawtooth. A survivor. A fighter. A hero.
And I have Tiger Mask Red to thank for that.'
I drop my tone slightly, but don't lose any of the intensity.
'Sawtooth...on December 18, you're about to find out what fighting Tiger Mask Red at Pollomania did to me. You're about to find out what the man who burned this mask unleashed inside of me. And you're about to find out why it's a bad idea to push Jason Michael O'Ryan.'
I lean even further forward, pulling the El Vainillo mask off my head to reveal my real face.
'Sawtooth,' I conclude, 'you've made me angry.
And you won't like me when I'm angry.'
With that, I switch off the camera and head upstairs to put the Vainillo mask back in its secret hiding spot.
This time, hopefully, for good.