My Fatal Memory

----Randy's POV----

I woke up early in the morning, earlier than I usually woke up. I looked at the clock and it said "4:50", I usually wake up at five thirty or six, but I'm not going back to sleep. Not after the nightmare I just had. I sighed as I picked up my phone and dialed through the contacts, calling my wife. I had a nightmare about something that happened way back, and I don't know why. I put the phone up to my ear and sighed.

"Hey...." it was voice mail,"Just wanted to let you know I love you two and I'll be back as soon as I can.." I sighed and hung up and put my phone down beside me. I realized Survivor Series was only a day away. I got up and walked to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror, remembering the dream/memory I had. It was when I was younger, much younger. I ran my fingers through my hair and compared it to back then. Much less. I looked at my arms and traced a tattoo I had, back then, I had none. I shook my head and tried to get it out of my head. Yet, I wouldn't be where I am without that fatal memory.

The memory of war.

The memory of my own friend dying.

The memory.... the memory of when I was in the Marines.

That memory haunted me like no other.

It started as us just being a normal Marine ship out in the ocean. We loved to have fun, my crew and I. But when we were called into Afghanistan, it suddenly became serious. We went to a abandoned warehouse and tried to help a general that we heard was captured, and when we did, all I could remember clearly was the sound of bombs. Next thing I knew when I woke up, the building was collapsed and me and my friend were the only ones left of twenty. I remember looking over at my friend, Martin, him on the edge of death. I remember his smile, and I remember his last request. He asked if I could say hi to his family and help his wife take care of their baby. Like that, he died in front of me. I could never face his family again, I knew it was my fault he died. I dragged him into being with the Marines, it was all my fault. He was a good man... he didn't deserve to die. I did. I shook my head and walked out of the bathroom, changing my cloths and packing my things up. It was five, and I needed to clear my mind. I walked out of my hotel room and went down to the lobby, getting myself fresh air as I walked outside. I walked a few blocks and went into a Starbucks, getting myself some coffee because only a few people were there. I sighed and took my coffee to a table and sat down, looking at the window. The sun was rising up very slowly, and it felt like time had stopped. I remembered the last of my dream, I tried to crawl out of the rumble but I had no success, it was just too heavy. I screamed for help and little did I know, I felt hands pick the rumble off me and yank me up to my knees. There was a man in front of me, a man I'd never forget. Those almost pitch-black eyes and that massive scar across his face. I remember him telling me to deliver these things for him, but it wasn't that clear. What I did remember though, is running as fast as I could to a city.

That city saved my life, though.

I ran because I was being chased down for not doing what that man wanted me to do, and I was terrified. I ran into a building and ran to the top of it, where I saw a man get into it. That was my only chance to escape. I ran to the helicopter, screaming. I saw the man look at me and raise an eyebrow, but he stopped me as I came close to the helicopter, he could see I was completely terrified.

"Please!" I remember me screaming,"Let me on! I'm in danger!" I remember the man looking at his watch then back at me.

"Just tell me this," the man started,"Do you wrestle?" I nodded the fast I could and he pulled me in, then he closed the door and the helicopter flew off. Yeah, that's right, that man was Vince McMahon. He let me, a complete stranger, onto his fancy helicopter. I sat in a seat and took a deep breath, relieved.

"Thank you." I said. Vince kept looking at me with a suspicious look.

"So... who are you?" I gulped.

"Randal Keith Orton..." Vince's eyes widened.

"YOU'RE the son of Cowboy Orton, aren't ya?" I looked at him with a confused face. Then I remembered my father was a wrestler.

"Yeah." I whispered. Vince took my hand and shook it.

"Glad to finally meet you! But what brings you here? Why were you in danger?" I sighed.

"I'm in the Marines, and people want to kill me. Y'know... with the war going on." Vince nodded.

"Running away with wrestling now?" I shrugged.

"I guess I have to join if you let me in..."

"With a little training, you'll get it. We're accepting any army members." I smiled.

"Thank you...."

"Tell me this.." he looked at me in a serious way,"Is anything messed up with your head?" I shook my head.

"I was in an explosion a month back, but, hey, nothing got injured... surprisingly." Vince laughed and patted my shoulder.

"Well welcome to the WWE, Randy!" I smiled as reality slapped me in the face. The sun was already shining and my coffee was getting cold. I drank it down quickly and threw it away and walked out of Starbucks. I walked back to the hotel and saw more of my co-workers up and eating breakfast. They all were laughing and watching TV. I shook my head and walked to the elevator and pressed the button. When the door opened, I saw John.

"Hey Rands!" he smiled at me cheerfully.

"Hey, John." I was growing kinda tired now, and John patted me on the back and made his way. I looked at him as I stepped into the elevator, I keep forgetting he was in the army, too. I wonder if he ever has nightmares about back then or remembers anything. I sighed and leaned back against the elevator as I pressed in the floor number.