Well, here we go again.

Well, here we go again, David Fox thought to himself, as he stared in the dark void he found himself in, buried in the earth once again.

He had a nice reprieve from these recurring dreams of his own mortality, but sure enough they clearly returned, and with them the constant planning on how to escape and one day break free and live his life. But for now, it was time to get back to it.

From the Journal of David R. Troy, Jr.
February 23, 2016

I woke up in a hospital bed. The last thing I remember was going to the DEFIANCE WrestlePlex to follow up with Dr. Davine after that match I had with Omega at Ascension.

I told her that my back was hurting especially bad, and I was vomiting and having bouts of confusion. And with all that agony I was still retracing my steps, how I finally stepped up to Omega after being stalked, and had NOTHING for him. Me! The Slayer of Giants! He was like 6’9” and an easy 360 pounds, I shoulda had him dead to rights, right? But nothing.

I went back home after the match, because I was in too much pain to stick around, and went to bed after a little painkiller cocktail, and woke up to puke my guts out. That’s why I called the doc in the morning, and barely made it there before I passed out in the can. The last thing I heard was her calling an ambulance.

Turns out the beating I got that night gave me rhabdomyolysis. And a ruptured liver. Maybe it hasn’t fully sunk in yet, but the doctor at University Medical said I should probably be dead.

Maybe I should be dead. In the past few months, things just spiraled out of control. Lost my teaching gig. Lost my girlfriend. And honestly, I might have lost my career, because who knows if I can wrestle again. And I know I won’t get the answers I want because the doctor’s gonna tell me to focus on not dying. And I know he’s not wrong.

Looks like Eddie and Mushi were here at some point, to make sure I had my phone and journal and all. Probably told my folks too, because my mom texted me, begging me to walk away from “this wrestling nonsense” and get a job working for whatever political campaign she’s working at this year. Says that being the son of Leanne Fox AND David Troy Sr. is all I’d need to make a decent living working in politics, even if I didn’t actually run. But why? I got into wrestling because it was something I could accomplish myself, without any need for nepotism.

I just asked the doctor what the date was, and he told me it was the 23rd.

Ascension was on the 2nd. I was at the WrestlePlex last on the 5th.

Motherfucker.

————

“I used to be known as the Slayer of Giants. These days though, my main focus is slaying demons. *MY* demons.”

Cold open.

David Fox greets us, alone, in that empty basement, with the lights on. His is not a look of confidence and determination, but of contemplation.

“I’ve been in this business for over twenty years. And having been in many locker rooms, and being as naive as I was until only recently, I’ve been around a lot of wrestlers who I always felt didn’t deserve the success they had. Much less deserve it as much as I did.

“Like I said. I was naive. Thought I deserved the world on a silver platter, and got rankled when the earth didn’t shift to meet my demands. Just goes with being young and stupid, I guess. Except that stupidity went on after I stopped bein’ young.”

David shakes his head and goes on.

“Six years ago, I looked into the eyes of death itself, and had all my sins read out to me. I still have dreams related to that. And yet… if I didn’t have that brush with the end, would I have had the introspection I needed to realize what I was doing wrong, and that I needed to cut it out? Who knows? Maybe the recurring dreams in which I’m in a casket in God-knows-where are worth it.

“Which brings me to the Hollywood Bruvs.”

David Fox stares at us.

“Mikey Unlikely and Kendrix were at the top of that list. Talented in some ways, but just insufferable little shits. And I never said anything about it, because I just let that push me as much as I could to surpass them. Until I couldn’t.

“If I hadn’t nearly died, I’m sure I would still harbor the resentment I did back then. But now? Next week, Mushigihara and I are going to step in that ring against the Hollywood Bruvs. And I’m going to drop all of that bitterness and resentment, and TEST MYSELF against them. I’m going to see how I stack up to them, and win or lose, I’m going to let whatever happens push me onward. But in a way that won’t kill me, in a way that will help both me and my tag team partner.”

David smiles.

“I’m still here. And I learned a lot of lessons since that fateful day.

“I won’t let them go to waste.”

Cut.

From the Journal of David R. Troy, Jr.
May 6, 2016

I finally was released. I got a ride home with Eddie and Mushi, who apologized profusely about the way things went between us in 2013, and was told to call them if I ever needed anything.

As I sit in the king sized bed of the apartment I now live alone in, I re-read the texts my mom sent me in the hospital. Not because I was going to take her up on her job offer, I still have way too much pride to give up and take the easy route. But I’ve been thinking hard about where I need to be moving forward.

David Troy Jr. isn’t dead.

But maybe the time has come for Troy Matthews to die, and for something better to emerge from his remains.