FicWad

In the lavish apartment that Percy now shared with Penelope, a different sort of tension was brewing. Percy, or rather, Ryker Black as he was now known in the world of FMW, was in the midst of preparing for his next match. He stood before a large mirror in the apartment’s makeshift gym, his muscles taut as he lifted weights, each movement precise and controlled.

Penelope watched him from the doorway, her face a mixture of concern and affection. She had seen the changes in Percy, his growing obsession with his new life, the way he pushed himself harder and harder with each match. She couldn’t deny the success he was achieving, but it was taking its toll on him, and she feared for what it might do to him in the long run.

"Percy," she began softly, stepping into the room. "I need to talk to you about something."

Percy set down the weights, turning to face her. His once freckled face was now bronzed from tanning, his red hair dyed a deep shade of black, his entire appearance transformed to suit his new identity.

"What is it?" he asked, his tone calm but focused.

"My parents are coming to visit next week," Penelope said, her voice laced with a hint of apprehension. "They’re eager to meet you, and, well, I think it’s important we make a good impression."

Percy nodded, understanding her concern. "Of course, Penelope. I’ll be ready for them."

Penelope hesitated for a moment before continuing.

"Percy…have you thought about telling your parents about us? About the baby?"

Percy’s expression darkened slightly at the mention of his family.

"No," he replied curtly. "I haven’t spoken to them in nearly two years. The last time I went to them with good news, they dismissed it. I doubt they would care about this."

Penelope frowned, sadness washing over her. "But Percy, they’re your family. Surely they would want to know about their grandchild."

Percy’s jaw tightened. "They made their choice when they turned their backs on me. I’m not going to waste my time trying to please them anymore. My focus is here, on you, and on my career."

Penelope sighed, knowing she wouldn’t be able to change his mind. "I just worry about you, Percy. This world you’re in…it’s so dangerous."

"I know what I’m doing," Percy said firmly. "I’m going to be the best there is, and I’ll make sure you and our child have everything you could ever want."

Penelope nodded, though her worry lingered. She knew Percy was determined, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was pushing himself too far, too fast.

Percy, meanwhile, turned his thoughts back to his training. His next opponent was Mankind, a fighter known for his almost superhuman tolerance for pain. The event would take place in Berlin, and Percy knew that this match would be unlike any he had faced before.

Lucius had informed him just days ago that the match would be a "Hell in a Cell" match.

A brutal contest that would take place within a large, steel cage designed to keep the fighters contained and add an extra layer of danger to the bout. The news had sent a thrill of both fear and excitement through Percy. He knew this would be his most challenging fight yet, but he was determined to emerge victorious.

He couldn’t afford to lose. Not now, not when he had come so far.

As Percy continued his training, the shadows of his past seemed to loom larger than ever. His thoughts occasionally drifted back to his family, to the life he had left behind. But each time, he pushed those thoughts away, focusing instead on the future he was building.

The future he was determined to conquer, no matter the cost.

The atmosphere in the arena was electric as the towering steel structure known as the Hell in a Cell loomed ominously over the ring. The anticipation from the crowd was palpable, a mix of excitement and trepidation as they prepared to witness one of the most brutal matches in Frontier Martial Arts Wrestling history. Percy, now fully immersed in his Ryker Black persona, stood outside the cage, his heart pounding with adrenaline. He had faced challenges before, but nothing like this. The stakes were higher than ever, with his reputation, his titles, and his very life on the line.

As Percy stepped into the cell, the heavy steel door slammed shut behind him, sealing him inside the unforgiving structure. His opponent, the infamous Mankind, was already inside, pacing like a wild animal ready to be unleashed. Percy could see the madness in Mankind's eyes, a crazed determination that sent a chill down his spine.

But Percy was ready. He had trained relentlessly for this moment, pushing his body to the limits and beyond. He had to win, there was no other option.

To Percy's surprise, as the bell rang to start the match, Mankind didn't engage him in the ring. Instead, he began to climb the side of the cell, his movements deliberate and unhurried. Percy watched in disbelief as Mankind reached the top of the cage and stood there, waiting. The crowd roared in approval, sensing the danger and intensity that was about to unfold.

Percy hesitated for only a moment before making his decision. If Mankind wanted to fight on top of the cell, then that's where they would fight. He started his climb, the steel cold and unforgiving beneath his hands, the distance to the top seeming to stretch on forever. But Percy reached the roof, pulling himself up to stand opposite Mankind.

The two stared each other down, the tension thick between them. Then, with a sudden burst of aggression, the brawl began. They exchanged heavy blows, each strike echoing through the arena. The crowd was on their feet, the energy in the air almost tangible as they watched the battle unfold high above the ring.

Percy managed to gain the upper hand, his training and determination pushing him forward. He grabbed Mankind by the arm and hurled him across the roof of the cell, sending him dangerously close to the edge. Mankind struggled to his feet, but Percy was relentless. He charged forward, driving Mankind back with a series of powerful strikes. Then, in a moment of pure adrenaline-fueled intensity, Percy seized Mankind and, with a tremendous effort, hurled him off the roof of the cage.

Time seemed to slow as Mankind's body sailed through the air, the crowd letting out a collective gasp. Mankind crashed through the announcer's table far below with a thunderous impact, the table splintering beneath him. The arena erupted in a mix of shock and awe, the sheer brutality of the move leaving everyone stunned.

Percy stood at the edge of the roof, looking down at the wreckage below. He was breathing hard, his heart racing. It was over, he thought. There was no way Mankind could get up after that.

Medical personnel rushed to Mankind's side, quickly placing him on a stretcher as they prepared to take him away. Percy began to climb down the cell, convinced the match was finished. But just as he reached the halfway point, he heard a roar from the crowd that made him stop.

To his utter disbelief, Mankind was getting off the stretcher. His movements were slow and labored, but he was moving. Percy watched in shock as Mankind began to climb back up the cell, his face a mask of pain and determination. Percy knew he couldn't let Mankind have the advantage. He quickly reversed course, climbing back up to meet his opponent on the roof once again.

The fight continued, each man digging deep into reserves of strength and willpower they didn’t know they had. Percy could feel the exhaustion setting in, his muscles burning, his breath coming in ragged gasps. But Mankind was relentless, and Percy knew he had to match that intensity.

Suddenly, Mankind grabbed Percy by the throat, trying to choke the life out of him. But Percy, with a burst of desperate strength, reversed the hold. He grabbed Mankind by the throat and, with a swift motion, chokeslammed him through the roof of the cell. The steel mesh gave way under the impact, sending Mankind crashing to the mat below.

The sound of Mankind's body hitting the mat was sickening, a dull thud that echoed through the arena. Percy looked down through the hole in the roof, expecting to see Mankind unconscious, the match finally over.

But then, impossibly, Mankind began to stir. He was battered, broken, but not defeated. Slowly, painfully, he pushed himself to his feet, blood trickling from his mouth as he stood on unsteady legs.

Percy felt a surge of both respect and frustration. Mankind was like something out of a nightmare, a creature that refused to be put down no matter how much punishment it took. Percy knew he had to end this, and soon.

As Percy climbed down into the ring, Mankind reached under the apron and pulled out a steel chair. With a wild look in his eyes, he swung the chair at Percy with all his might. The chair connected with Percy's head with a sickening crack, sending him crashing to the mat. For a moment, everything went black, and Percy saw stars dancing in front of his eyes.

When he came to, he felt something warm and wet running down his face. Blood. He was bleeding, and badly. Percy could feel the wooziness setting in, his body screaming in protest as he tried to push himself up. But Mankind was on him again, relentless in his assault. Percy could barely defend himself, his vision swimming as the blood dripped down into his eyes.

Mankind reached under the ring again, this time pulling out a bag of thumbtacks. He poured them out onto the canvas, the sharp metal points glinting in the lights. Percy felt a surge of panic. He knew what was coming, and he knew he had to act fast.

With every ounce of strength he had left, Percy fought back. He managed to reverse Mankind’s hold and, with a mighty heave, threw him onto the bed of thumbtacks. Mankind let out a howl of pain as the tacks embedded themselves in his flesh, but still, he pushed himself up, determined to keep fighting.

Percy couldn’t believe it. This had to end. Now.

Summoning the last of his energy, Percy grabbed Mankind and hoisted him up for a tombstone piledriver. The crowd erupted as Percy drove Mankind’s head into the mat with a final, devastating impact. Percy immediately collapsed on top of him, barely able to hook the leg for the pin.

The referee counted to three, and the bell rang, signaling the end of the match. Percy had done it. He had won.

The crowd gave Percy a standing ovation, recognizing the incredible effort and determination he had shown. As the referee handed him both the Intercontinental and Winged Eagle Championships, Percy could barely stand. He lifted the belts into the air, the blood still pouring from his cut, his entire body trembling with exhaustion.

He had given the crowd everything he had.

As Percy left the arena, he could barely walk. The adrenaline was fading, and the pain was becoming overwhelming. He was helped to the back by medical personnel, who immediately began treating his injuries. But all Percy could think about was Penelope, and how worried she would be when she saw him like this.

The aftermath of the Hell in a Cell match was a chaotic scene of blood, pain, and confusion. Percy, drenched in sweat and blood, was barely conscious as EMTs swarmed around him, tending to his numerous injuries. The adrenaline that had fueled him during the match was now gone, leaving only the brutal reality of the damage he had sustained.

His vision was blurry, and the world around him seemed to sway as he sat slumped on the steel steps near the ring. His head pounded, the concussion from the chair shot still reverberating through his skull, and every inch of his body screamed in agony.

Lucius made his way through the crowd of medical personnel to stand before Percy. His expression was one of controlled concern, but his eyes gleamed with a mix of pride and calculation as he looked at the blood-soaked fighter.

Percy struggled to focus on Lucius as he approached, his thoughts jumbled and disoriented. He blinked several times, trying to clear his vision and make sense of what had just happened.

"Lucius...I'm sorry," Percy managed to say, his voice weak and shaky. "I forgot to use the thumbtacks."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, surprised by Percy's statement. He glanced down at Percy's knees and back, where the silver glints of thumbtacks were embedded in his flesh, mingling with the blood that seeped from the wounds. It was a grim sight, one that would have horrified most, but Lucius was unfazed.

"Percy...you did use the thumbtacks," Lucius said slowly, his voice taking on a measured tone as he studied the state Percy was in.

Percy perked up slightly at that, a faint spark of pride flickering in his eyes despite his dazed state. "I did?" he asked, almost childlike in his confusion.

"Yes," Lucius confirmed, his voice betraying no emotion. "You used them."

As the realization sunk in, Percy seemed to relax a little, as if knowing he had followed through on the brutal tactic brought him some twisted sense of accomplishment. But it was clear to anyone watching that Percy was far from alright. His glazed eyes, his slurred speech, and the way he struggled to stay upright all pointed to the severity of his injuries and the toll the match had taken on him.

At that moment, Penelope appeared, rushing to Percy's side with tears streaming down her face. She had witnessed the horrific match from the sidelines, and the sight of Percy in such a state was almost too much to bear. Her heart ached for him, and the fear of losing him, of watching him destroy himself in pursuit of this violent career, was overwhelming.

"Percy," she cried out, her voice choked with emotion as she knelt beside him. "What have you done to yourself?"

Percy turned his head toward her, his expression distant, as if he was struggling to recognize her. "Penelope?" he mumbled, his voice barely audible. "I...I won."

Penelope couldn't hold back the tears as she gently cupped his face in her hands, her touch soft and trembling. "Yes, you won... but look at you. You're hurt so badly. You need help, Percy."

Lucius watched the exchange with a detached interest, his calculating mind already weighing the benefits and drawbacks of Percy's current condition. He could see that Percy was completely disoriented, that he had no real understanding of where he was or what he had just been through.

"Penelope," Lucius said, his voice cold and clinical, "Percy has no idea where he is or what he's done. The match was brutal, yes, but this is what it takes to be the best."

Penelope shot Lucius a glare, her eyes filled with anger and desperation.

"This isn't worth it, Lucius! He's hurting himself, and for what? For a title? For money? This isn't the man I fell in love with—this is a man destroying himself for the sake of winning!"

Lucius simply raised an eyebrow, unfazed by her outburst.

"Winning is everything, Penelope. Percy knows that, even if he can't comprehend it fully right now. He is on the path to greatness, and with that comes sacrifice. You should be proud of him."

But Penelope couldn’t find pride in this moment. All she saw was the broken, bloodied shell of the man she loved, a man who was spiraling deeper into a world of violence and self-destruction. She could barely hold back her sobs as she pleaded with Percy, her voice shaking.

"Please, Percy... let's go home. Let's leave this all behind. You don't have to keep doing this. We can start over. Please."

Percy, still dazed and struggling to keep his thoughts coherent, reached out and clutched Penelope’s hand weakly. He could see the pain in her eyes, feel the fear in her touch, but the drive that had been instilled in him, the need to prove himself and to be the best, was too strong. It clouded his judgment, pushing aside the concern and love Penelope was showing him.

"I...I can't stop now, Penelope," Percy whispered, his voice full of both regret and determination. "I have to keep going."

Penelope's heart broke at his words, but she knew there was nothing she could do to change his mind. The EMTs finally lifted Percy onto a stretcher, preparing to take him for further medical attention. As they wheeled him away, Penelope walked beside him, holding his hand, her heart heavy with worry and fear for the man she loved. Lucius trailed behind them, already planning Percy’s next move, his mind focused on the opportunities that lay ahead.

For Percy, the victory was bittersweet. He had achieved something great, but at what cost? The toll on his body, his mind, and his relationships was mounting, but the allure of being the best, of holding onto that success, was too strong to resist. Even as the world around him grew more chaotic and painful, Percy couldn’t see any other way forward.

At the hospital, Percy was rushed into the emergency room. The medical staff worked quickly to clean up the head wound he had sustained during the match and stitch it closed. The thumbtacks were carefully removed from his skin, each one leaving behind small, bloody pinpricks that only added to the overall grimness of his appearance.

Once the immediate injuries had been tended to, the doctors turned their attention to Percy’s mental state. He had suffered a severe concussion during the match, and the blows to his head had left him disoriented and confused. The doctor explained to Penelope that it was crucial for Percy to start remembering things on his own, to help gauge the extent of the damage.

Penelope sat by Percy’s bedside, holding his hand as she waited for him to come around. She was exhausted, emotionally drained by the events of the night, but her concern for Percy kept her awake and alert.

After what felt like an eternity, Percy stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He looked around the room, his gaze finally settling on Penelope. For a moment, there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes, but it quickly faded, replaced by a blank, almost childlike curiosity.

"Did I win?" Percy asked, his voice soft and uncertain.

Penelope’s heart ached at the question, but she forced a smile, trying to reassure him. "Yes, Percy, you won. You performed so well."

Percy seemed satisfied with that answer, his eyes closing again as he let out a contented sigh. Penelope squeezed his hand, hoping that he would drift off to sleep and wake up feeling more like himself. But as the minutes passed, she noticed that Percy wasn’t drifting off—he was simply lying there, his brow furrowed as if he were trying to piece something together.

Ten minutes later, Percy opened his eyes again, his expression clouded with confusion. He looked at Penelope, a hint of desperation in his voice as he asked, "Did I win?"

Penelope’s forced smile faltered, her heart skipping a beat. "Yes, Percy, you won. You did really well."

Percy nodded slowly, but there was no relief in his eyes, no sense of understanding. He seemed lost, adrift in a sea of confusion that he couldn’t escape. Penelope’s worry deepened, but she tried to push it aside, telling herself that this was just a part of the recovery process.

But then, ten minutes later, Percy asked again, "Did I win?"

This time, Penelope couldn’t hide her fear. She looked into Percy’s eyes, searching for some sign that he was joking, that this was just some cruel trick of his mind. But the blankness in his gaze, the way he genuinely didn’t seem to remember anything—it was terrifying.

"Yes, Percy," Penelope whispered, her voice trembling. "You won. You performed beautifully."

But even as she said the words, she felt the chill of dread settle over her. Something was very, very wrong. Percy was stuck, trapped in a loop of confusion that seemed to have no end.

The doctor returned, and Penelope quickly explained what had happened. The doctor’s expression turned serious as he listened, and he immediately ordered more tests. Penelope’s hands shook as she held onto Percy, who was now staring at the ceiling, his face void of the confidence and determination that had once defined him.

"Percy," Penelope said softly, tears filling her eyes. "Please, try to remember. You won the match. You did so well. Please, just hold on to that."

Percy turned his head to look at her, his eyes wide and innocent, like a child lost in a world he didn’t understand. "Did I win?"

Penelope’s tears finally spilled over, her heart breaking as she realized the gravity of the situation. Percy wasn’t just hurt—he was lost, trapped in the aftermath of a match that had taken more from him than just blood and sweat.

"Yes, Percy," she whispered through her tears, "you won."

But as the doctor returned with a somber expression, Penelope knew that this was far from over. The cost of Percy’s victory was higher than she could have ever imagined, and she feared that the man she loved might never be the same again.

The glory, the triumph—it all felt so hollow now, so meaningless in the face of what had happened to Percy. As she held his hand, praying for him to come back to her, she couldn’t help but wonder if the price of this victory was simply too great to bear.