08-30-2019, 06:56 AM
09-03-2019, 07:08 PM
July 25th
Los Angeles, California.
The bar Abigail Lindsay found herself in, the music echoed inside the building. Normally she would find all the mindless noise annoying. On this night? She needed the noise to drown out the non stop voices inside her head. Not the type of voices the world believes crazy people hear that they believe are actually there... these are voices that are telling Abigail Lindsay to inflict unspeakable horrors on other people. And yet she chose to leave her home, find a random bar she spent no real time researching with the callous voices urging her on. She at least had enough foresight to dawn a black wig so no one would recognize her. She is wearing a black jacket, black leather pants, black boots, shades of a comic book villain, She would mock another person for their choice of attire. Appearances didn’t matter to her, spending the past couple of days mostly at home was giving her a serious case of cabin fever. She vowed to herself she wasn’t going to allow her present circumstances to drag her down.
Abigail held the rocks glass to her lips. She forgot what alcoholic drink she was about to consume. Not even the music could completely drown out the thoughts bouncing around in her head. One sniff of the liquor was enough for Abigail to place the rocks glass back down on the bar. She sighs. She cursed herself for lowering standards to subject herself to the lowest common denominator of society.
“Does my life suck this bad?” was the question Abigail asked herself inside her head, not out loud.
Abigail grabs the glass again. She brings the glass to her lips one more time, this time takes a sip. Still doesn’t know what drink she ordered, whatever it was? Bitter. Nasty. Perfect. She rests the glass back on the bar. Reaching into her pocket she places a twenty dollar bill next to the drink. Feeling she needed to get out the bar before the depressive atmosphere sunk her deeper inside her own darkness, she prepared herself to leave. She stopped in her tracks. A vibrant young lady stands out in the sea of beauty women. On another day she wouldn’t find the woman special, pretty girls are a dime a dozen. One thing stood out as the young woman gyrated her body on the dance floor...
Her hair.
Her... pink hair.
A smirk formed on Abigail’s face. She walked across the dance floor to join the pink haired beauty. She was inches of invading the strangers personal space, Abi didn’t care if the stranger minded her presence. Instinctively, Abigail’s erotic movement matches that of the woman in front of her. She had no clue how the stranger would react. The woman with pink hair picked up her gyrating trying to keep pace with Abigail. She didn’t notice all Abigail was focused on is her hair, the rest of her body didn’t register. The music stops. So did the dancing. Abigail offered a smirk to the woman. Predictably, the girl smiles back.
“Nice moves.” the woman says.
“Naw, silly. You have me beat, bar none.” Abigail winks.
The young woman blushes. “I don’t know about that.”
“Let me buy you a drink. My name is Deisree.”
Abigail extenders her hand to the stranger. She takes it. “I’m Monique.”
Abigail/Desiree walks Monique back to the bar. She didn’t think her rocks glass would still be there. Worked out perfectly. Before Monique could settle into her seat, Abigail reached into her pocket, quickly dropped a pill into the glass.
Abigail hands Monique the glass, “Here. Drink up.”
Monique doesn’t hesitate to drink the contents of the glass Abigail handed her. Perfect, Abigail thought, tonight would be a lot more fun then she initially planned...
--
A lot of time elapsed between the bar and the location Abigail brought Dominique too. She brought her new friend to an old abandoned building. Bringing her back to the house would have been problematic. An old abandoned warehouse? More suitable. She tied Dominique's lifeless body to a black leather chair. Just a matter of time before the woman woke up. On cue, Dominique slowly came out of her slumber.
“Hey sweetie, for a second I was worried. Giving a person the wrong dose of PCP has the potential to kill them. Yay, you are alive. Now the fun can begin.” Abigail said coldly.
“Let me...”
Abigail covers Dominique’s mouth to stop her from talking. “Shhhhhhhhh. Save your strength; sweetie. I’m going to need you awake for this. Spoils the mood.”
Abigail removes her hand from the mouth of Dominique. She can feel stone cold fear radiating from a young woman who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Cliche? Yes, Abigail concedes to herself. There was no other explanation. The middle member of the Lohan clan took a seat in a chair opposite of the one she has the young woman strapped him.
“Why are you doing this?” Dominique begs to know.
Abigail sighs. “What did I say about not talking?”
“I would have slept with you. You didn’t need to kidnap me.”
“Trust me sweetie, I know. This isn’t about sex. Never is. Did you know, rape is not about the sexual act itself, comes down to control. Never understood that. Extensive studies have proven the power of sexual gratification to be true. Who am I question the experts. No worries, there will be no sexual interaction against your will.”
“Is this about money? My ATM card is in my purse!”
Abigail stands up. She smacks Dominique as hard as she can. “What part of stop talking don’t you understand?”
Tears stroll down the young woman’s face. Abigail takes the liberty of wiping the tears away. “None of this is your fault, sweetie. I haven’t been in a good mood lately. This pesky pink haired bitch ruined my plans. She is off traveling around the world hiding from the consequences of her actions. Can you believe the bitch had to nerve to send me this?”
Abigail take off the leather jacket has on. She turns the jacket around to reveal whatever was written on the back of it, she took the liberty of ripping off. “She thought it was a sweet idea to buy me a jacket with my nickname stitched into it, sweet gesture? Normally, I would think so too. The arrogance of this woman, turned her back on me, went against my plans, had the nerve to mock me with this so called gift. She should have burned the jacket, not sent it to me. I can’t choke her until she slips into a deep sleep. Not now. I will wait however long it takes, for now? You’ll do. You’ll have to do.”
Abigail wraps her hands around Dominique neck. Closing her eyes, she imagines the young woman is Jordan Majors. Her mind takes her back to a time when the two of them were on good terms. Laughing. Sharing plans for the future. Possibly living together. Spending the rest of their lives together...
Abigail snarls; “I’m an idiot” she chastises herself... she says to herself, internally.
“Why did I allow Jordan to get close?”
“Why didn’t I see she had the potential to screw things up at Rise to Greatness.”
“Why didn’t I walk away when it became apparent is more like Bree Lancaster?”
“Why didn’t I find someone else to trust.”
All the thoughts Abigail had been trying to silence for days rush to her all at once.
Her hands quiver. She wants to squeeze the life out of Dominique... then... she backs off unable to follow through with the strangulation. Abigail opens her eyes to notice Dominique’s eyes closed. The tears ruined the make up she had on.
“Open your eyes, sweetie.” Abigail says flatly.
Dominique slowly opens her eyes. She breathes a sigh of relief. “Tha-- thank you.”
Abigail looks around the empty warehouse. What she sees makes her smile. She walks over to grab a pair of scissors on the ground. She walks back to Dominique whose eyes widen. “I wouldn’t thank me yet.” She grabs a fist full of Dominique's hair and starts cutting...
There was screaming. A lot of begging. Abigail had cut off as much of Dominique's hair as possible. When the job was done, Abigail sat on the floor with a fist full of the broken woman’s hair balled up in her hand. Sitting there for awhile, she sighs. Standing up she tosses the air into the air.
“See. That wasn’t so bad.” Abigail smirks.
“Please, let me go.” Dominique struggles to say. Abigail can tell she is exhausted, not a lot of fight left in her. Abi suspected the effects of the pill she slipped into her drink had not fully worn off yet.
She walks back to the young woman. Kissing her on the cheek she whispers into her ear. “I can’t do a silly thing like that.”
“I-- promise I won’t say a word. I just want to go home. Your not going to kill me, right?”
Abigail shrugs. “Yeah, you’re right. I am not a monster. Now I have a problem, I let you go, I risk putting myself in a situation where you open your big fat mouth, making things more complicated for little ole me. Geez, what should I do? I can’t kill you. I can’t set you free. Oh... right. I can borrow a line from Batman Begins, I don’t need to save you. Way I see it, I can leave you here. If no one finds you, you’ll die, naturally. Problem solved.”
“Please, I--”
Tired of hearing the young woman talk, Abigail puts her hand over her mouth. She reaches into her pocket, pulling out a syringe. Jamming the needle into her neck, Dominique slowly fades to black. Her head goes limp. Abigail backs away.
“Ta-ta sweetie.”
With that, Abigail leaves the young woman to fend for herself.
Nope, not a monster at all...
==
Abigail Lindsay finds herself standing all alone at night in a cemetery. Normally she films her promotional videos from more colorful locations, she feels considering the chaos that has erupted the past two SCW televised shows revolving around herself, standing in a gloomy cemetery was the best way to send home her desired message. Wearing a black leather jacket, leather pants, black high heel boots. Her blonde hair reaches down past her shoulders. Her hands tucked into her pockets. She offers a callous sigh knowing the camera man behind her is waiting on her to start speaking.
“In other to be reborn, you need to die first. Makes logical sense, don’t you think?”
The entire time Abigail isn’t looking at the camera. It becomes clear to us as the camera zooms further out that the grave she is standing in front of is an empty one, there is a mound of dirt set off to the side. Can’t get a clear picture of whose tombstone she is looking at. Abigail is content to shield our vision.
“We all die at some point. Literally, metaphorically, all the same. Death is needed. Our fate is nothing to be afraid of; we are destined to become one with the Earth sooner or later. For now, I am not talking about the literal version of the death, too morbid, even for me, I’ll leave the actual death to the more... colorful men and women of our sport. I didn’t go too far off the reservation. Do you have a different opinion? I am standing in front of an open, dug up grave, my mind can’t be all that sane? I am talking about the metaphorical version of death. But whose death you wonder? Is it Glory’s? Jordan Majors?”
Abigail pauses to allow us to come to our own conclusions.
Just then, Abigail takes one step to her left. And another. And another, until the marking on the tombstone is clear for the world to see. Her name is etched on the tombstone. Just that. No marking a date of birth. Or a time of death. The tombstone has the name Abigail Lindsay etched on it. The camera then zooms on the face of Abigail herself, she isn’t smiling. At all. Her expression remains cold. Unreadable.
“Abigail Lindsay is dead.” She pauses to allow what she said to sink in. “I realized the Abigail Linday I knew died at Rise to Greatness 2019, technically before that. One day, Abigail met a woman by the name of Jordan Majors, all their interactions were supposed to be was what their short lived tag team name suggests, Friends With Benefits. Along the journey, Abigail opened herself up in a way that she should not have. She placed her fragile trust in a woman she should not have. Who could blame Jordan for looking out for herself? She is like most of you cliche people who believe winning and losing matches is the end all be all, she doesn’t grasp the nuances of life. Her thinking is as black and white as a chalkboard, no, Abigail Lindsay opted to let her in. Even endorsed her fighting by her side. What Jordan ended up doing was using Abigail Linday to secure a high profile match at Rise to Greatness where she knew all along, what she was going to do. If Abigail was smart, she would have nullified Jordan. Wasn’t the case. Abigail was humiliated, taken advantage of, made to look like a fool. You heard Jordan’s speech last week, the balls on that girl. When was the last time anyone taunted Abigail Lindsay like that? So full or arrogance, believing she is untouchable. Made me sick watching that video, it was pretty much the nail in the coffin of Abigail Lindsay as you once knew her.”
Despite announcing her “death” Abigail shakes her head in mourning.
“We all need to die eventually. No one stays the same forever. Adapt or perish is the law of the land. For years, Abigail Lindsay presented herself a certain way to the world at large. She made some friends. Enemies abound. Turned her back on a select view. Is that the reason she was able to get away with being the life of the party for so long? No one cared? Everyone considered her an afterthought...” Abigail chuckles. “Afterthought? The latest buzzword Gloria Braddock is tossing around, proclaiming Abigail Lindsay is an after thought in this business. Cannon fodder. That’s deep.”
“What if Glory is right? What if Abigail is an afterthought? Who is to say Abigail Lindsay actually cared about how the fans and wrestling pundits perceive her? When have we ever hitched our wagon on superficial markings of success? In an ideal scenario, being an afterthought is a good thing, no one will see us coming. Oh. I’m talking like venom now. All this ‘we’ talk, back to the point of the story.”
Abigail shrugs. “There comes a point in life where we all run our course. The Abigail you knew, she had her fun. She was able to charm the pants off of almost anyone but... she was also weak. She was without purpose. She was like a tumbleweed rolling around in the wind. The chaos talk? Was just talk. She didn’t cause any real chaos, she did shake things up in the World Title match costing Glory the World Championship. I digress. That version of Abigail Lindsay might as well been an afterthought.”
“She is dead.”
“Not for long. What I propose is killing the Abigail Linsday you knew, resurrecting her, becoming a better version of herself. I am going to remake what you knew as Abigail Lindsay into my own image. Bet your confused. Who am I if I am not Abigail? It should not take a genius to figure this one out.”
“I’m Serenity, silly.”
Abigail (or “Serenity”) coldly giggles. “She used my name in vein. Serenity Now... Serenity Now. No more. I am the part of Abigail that wants to choke the life outta Jordan. I am the part of Abigail that would smile with glee as Jordan’s eyes roll to the back of her head. I am the part of Abigail that wants to take a pair of scissors, cut off that pink sluts hair, toss it in the air, dancing around her unconscious body until the urge to hang her upside from a balcony slooowly goes away. I don’t appreciate Jordan humiliating Abigail. In a way I should thank Jordan? She killed her. Jordan killed... Abigail. This gives me a chance to rehab my girl. All will be right with the world; soon enough.”
Serenity cracks a smile. “I’m fully aware I am not wrestling Jordan this week. Or Gloria. Crissy Gardner is who the fates decided I am going to share the same ring with...” Serenity yawns at the prospect at competing against Crissy. “If anyone is an afterthought in Supreme Championship Wrestling, it would be you. I did not know you were still apart of the roster until I had to do the mandatory research necessary for this match; I had to scratch my head thinking, what has Crissy Gardner been up to lately. Say what you want about Abigail, she has been the talk of the town. From enjoying a tag team title reign a year ago, to her adventures with Ravyn, to being involved in a high profile match at Rise to Greatness where a Hall of Famer felt the need to come back to deal with Abigail. Flaws and mistakes aside, my not so stellar safe at least had the world talking. But you? Can’t count on one hand the memorable moments you had in this company. You place a nice little bow on your journey, spouting off to Peyton Rice how you are a fighter, you have to scratch, claw, breath just to keep yourself afloat, when, if you really think about it, you are no better than Samantha Raine, another former GDW superstar coming to SCW believing they have what it takes to keep their heads afloat, Angelica, sorry, that’s Angel without the I-C-A. Kayla, Marie, a host of others were able to make that transition to become somewhat bankable, but you Crissy, are still fighting. Your only real claim to fame is rehashing a failed relationship with Blake Mason no one cares about, not even him. When it comes to his league of ex girlfriends, he never mentions you, does he? I would be ashamed to have woke up in bed next to you, too. Nothing personal.”
Serenity winks. “I know, I know, I am supposed to give the lovely fans out there watching this video a reason to care about this match. I’m a creative person. I like to think so. A miracle worker, I am not. Why would the general fan care about a match between Abigail Lindsay and Crissy Gardner. They care more about how I will respond after the events of the past two shows... not like you have giving the audience a solid reason to not treat our match as the customary bathroom break, hey, lucky for me, I have never given a damn about what the fans think. They are a fickle bunch. The moment me and Ravyn came to an understanding, all the good will I built up, out the window. Aside from a few mistakes Abigail made, we are no different than we were when we signed a year ago. We still don’t care about rules. We still do whatever we want, now, all I want to do is align myself with my spirit animal.”
“Unconditional love doesn’t exist Crissy.”
“What I want, more than anything, is to use you to showcase the new Abigail Lindsay. The new Abigail Lindsay has no interest in wasting time. She isn’t an aimless spectator in the grand scheme of Supreme Championships undeniable engine. In Year 2 of Abigail Lindsay’s time in SCW, she will be more determined than ever to achieve whatever is on her pretty little mind, and I will be there, behind the scenes, ensuring that Abigail gets exactly what she wants. Making Jordan pay. And teaching Gloria Braddock a lesson. Hey, if both of them want to believe they have the upperhand on Abigail, there are sadly mistaken. Her death needed to take place in order for a new Abigail to rise from the ashes like a dark phoenix in the sky. Crissy? You are merely foreplay. That’s it. Wrong place. Wrong time. Bring the fight. Doesn’t matter.”
Serenity blows a kiss into the camera. “Ta-ta for now.”
Serenity saunters off screen as the scene fades on the final imagine being of the tombstone that has Abigail Linday’s name on it.
Los Angeles, California.
The bar Abigail Lindsay found herself in, the music echoed inside the building. Normally she would find all the mindless noise annoying. On this night? She needed the noise to drown out the non stop voices inside her head. Not the type of voices the world believes crazy people hear that they believe are actually there... these are voices that are telling Abigail Lindsay to inflict unspeakable horrors on other people. And yet she chose to leave her home, find a random bar she spent no real time researching with the callous voices urging her on. She at least had enough foresight to dawn a black wig so no one would recognize her. She is wearing a black jacket, black leather pants, black boots, shades of a comic book villain, She would mock another person for their choice of attire. Appearances didn’t matter to her, spending the past couple of days mostly at home was giving her a serious case of cabin fever. She vowed to herself she wasn’t going to allow her present circumstances to drag her down.
Abigail held the rocks glass to her lips. She forgot what alcoholic drink she was about to consume. Not even the music could completely drown out the thoughts bouncing around in her head. One sniff of the liquor was enough for Abigail to place the rocks glass back down on the bar. She sighs. She cursed herself for lowering standards to subject herself to the lowest common denominator of society.
“Does my life suck this bad?” was the question Abigail asked herself inside her head, not out loud.
Abigail grabs the glass again. She brings the glass to her lips one more time, this time takes a sip. Still doesn’t know what drink she ordered, whatever it was? Bitter. Nasty. Perfect. She rests the glass back on the bar. Reaching into her pocket she places a twenty dollar bill next to the drink. Feeling she needed to get out the bar before the depressive atmosphere sunk her deeper inside her own darkness, she prepared herself to leave. She stopped in her tracks. A vibrant young lady stands out in the sea of beauty women. On another day she wouldn’t find the woman special, pretty girls are a dime a dozen. One thing stood out as the young woman gyrated her body on the dance floor...
Her hair.
Her... pink hair.
A smirk formed on Abigail’s face. She walked across the dance floor to join the pink haired beauty. She was inches of invading the strangers personal space, Abi didn’t care if the stranger minded her presence. Instinctively, Abigail’s erotic movement matches that of the woman in front of her. She had no clue how the stranger would react. The woman with pink hair picked up her gyrating trying to keep pace with Abigail. She didn’t notice all Abigail was focused on is her hair, the rest of her body didn’t register. The music stops. So did the dancing. Abigail offered a smirk to the woman. Predictably, the girl smiles back.
“Nice moves.” the woman says.
“Naw, silly. You have me beat, bar none.” Abigail winks.
The young woman blushes. “I don’t know about that.”
“Let me buy you a drink. My name is Deisree.”
Abigail extenders her hand to the stranger. She takes it. “I’m Monique.”
Abigail/Desiree walks Monique back to the bar. She didn’t think her rocks glass would still be there. Worked out perfectly. Before Monique could settle into her seat, Abigail reached into her pocket, quickly dropped a pill into the glass.
Abigail hands Monique the glass, “Here. Drink up.”
Monique doesn’t hesitate to drink the contents of the glass Abigail handed her. Perfect, Abigail thought, tonight would be a lot more fun then she initially planned...
--
A lot of time elapsed between the bar and the location Abigail brought Dominique too. She brought her new friend to an old abandoned building. Bringing her back to the house would have been problematic. An old abandoned warehouse? More suitable. She tied Dominique's lifeless body to a black leather chair. Just a matter of time before the woman woke up. On cue, Dominique slowly came out of her slumber.
“Hey sweetie, for a second I was worried. Giving a person the wrong dose of PCP has the potential to kill them. Yay, you are alive. Now the fun can begin.” Abigail said coldly.
“Let me...”
Abigail covers Dominique’s mouth to stop her from talking. “Shhhhhhhhh. Save your strength; sweetie. I’m going to need you awake for this. Spoils the mood.”
Abigail removes her hand from the mouth of Dominique. She can feel stone cold fear radiating from a young woman who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Cliche? Yes, Abigail concedes to herself. There was no other explanation. The middle member of the Lohan clan took a seat in a chair opposite of the one she has the young woman strapped him.
“Why are you doing this?” Dominique begs to know.
Abigail sighs. “What did I say about not talking?”
“I would have slept with you. You didn’t need to kidnap me.”
“Trust me sweetie, I know. This isn’t about sex. Never is. Did you know, rape is not about the sexual act itself, comes down to control. Never understood that. Extensive studies have proven the power of sexual gratification to be true. Who am I question the experts. No worries, there will be no sexual interaction against your will.”
“Is this about money? My ATM card is in my purse!”
Abigail stands up. She smacks Dominique as hard as she can. “What part of stop talking don’t you understand?”
Tears stroll down the young woman’s face. Abigail takes the liberty of wiping the tears away. “None of this is your fault, sweetie. I haven’t been in a good mood lately. This pesky pink haired bitch ruined my plans. She is off traveling around the world hiding from the consequences of her actions. Can you believe the bitch had to nerve to send me this?”
Abigail take off the leather jacket has on. She turns the jacket around to reveal whatever was written on the back of it, she took the liberty of ripping off. “She thought it was a sweet idea to buy me a jacket with my nickname stitched into it, sweet gesture? Normally, I would think so too. The arrogance of this woman, turned her back on me, went against my plans, had the nerve to mock me with this so called gift. She should have burned the jacket, not sent it to me. I can’t choke her until she slips into a deep sleep. Not now. I will wait however long it takes, for now? You’ll do. You’ll have to do.”
Abigail wraps her hands around Dominique neck. Closing her eyes, she imagines the young woman is Jordan Majors. Her mind takes her back to a time when the two of them were on good terms. Laughing. Sharing plans for the future. Possibly living together. Spending the rest of their lives together...
Abigail snarls; “I’m an idiot” she chastises herself... she says to herself, internally.
“Why did I allow Jordan to get close?”
“Why didn’t I see she had the potential to screw things up at Rise to Greatness.”
“Why didn’t I walk away when it became apparent is more like Bree Lancaster?”
“Why didn’t I find someone else to trust.”
All the thoughts Abigail had been trying to silence for days rush to her all at once.
Her hands quiver. She wants to squeeze the life out of Dominique... then... she backs off unable to follow through with the strangulation. Abigail opens her eyes to notice Dominique’s eyes closed. The tears ruined the make up she had on.
“Open your eyes, sweetie.” Abigail says flatly.
Dominique slowly opens her eyes. She breathes a sigh of relief. “Tha-- thank you.”
Abigail looks around the empty warehouse. What she sees makes her smile. She walks over to grab a pair of scissors on the ground. She walks back to Dominique whose eyes widen. “I wouldn’t thank me yet.” She grabs a fist full of Dominique's hair and starts cutting...
There was screaming. A lot of begging. Abigail had cut off as much of Dominique's hair as possible. When the job was done, Abigail sat on the floor with a fist full of the broken woman’s hair balled up in her hand. Sitting there for awhile, she sighs. Standing up she tosses the air into the air.
“See. That wasn’t so bad.” Abigail smirks.
“Please, let me go.” Dominique struggles to say. Abigail can tell she is exhausted, not a lot of fight left in her. Abi suspected the effects of the pill she slipped into her drink had not fully worn off yet.
She walks back to the young woman. Kissing her on the cheek she whispers into her ear. “I can’t do a silly thing like that.”
“I-- promise I won’t say a word. I just want to go home. Your not going to kill me, right?”
Abigail shrugs. “Yeah, you’re right. I am not a monster. Now I have a problem, I let you go, I risk putting myself in a situation where you open your big fat mouth, making things more complicated for little ole me. Geez, what should I do? I can’t kill you. I can’t set you free. Oh... right. I can borrow a line from Batman Begins, I don’t need to save you. Way I see it, I can leave you here. If no one finds you, you’ll die, naturally. Problem solved.”
“Please, I--”
Tired of hearing the young woman talk, Abigail puts her hand over her mouth. She reaches into her pocket, pulling out a syringe. Jamming the needle into her neck, Dominique slowly fades to black. Her head goes limp. Abigail backs away.
“Ta-ta sweetie.”
With that, Abigail leaves the young woman to fend for herself.
Nope, not a monster at all...
==
<<Promo Time>>
The Death Of...
Abigail Lindsay finds herself standing all alone at night in a cemetery. Normally she films her promotional videos from more colorful locations, she feels considering the chaos that has erupted the past two SCW televised shows revolving around herself, standing in a gloomy cemetery was the best way to send home her desired message. Wearing a black leather jacket, leather pants, black high heel boots. Her blonde hair reaches down past her shoulders. Her hands tucked into her pockets. She offers a callous sigh knowing the camera man behind her is waiting on her to start speaking.
“In other to be reborn, you need to die first. Makes logical sense, don’t you think?”
The entire time Abigail isn’t looking at the camera. It becomes clear to us as the camera zooms further out that the grave she is standing in front of is an empty one, there is a mound of dirt set off to the side. Can’t get a clear picture of whose tombstone she is looking at. Abigail is content to shield our vision.
“We all die at some point. Literally, metaphorically, all the same. Death is needed. Our fate is nothing to be afraid of; we are destined to become one with the Earth sooner or later. For now, I am not talking about the literal version of the death, too morbid, even for me, I’ll leave the actual death to the more... colorful men and women of our sport. I didn’t go too far off the reservation. Do you have a different opinion? I am standing in front of an open, dug up grave, my mind can’t be all that sane? I am talking about the metaphorical version of death. But whose death you wonder? Is it Glory’s? Jordan Majors?”
Abigail pauses to allow us to come to our own conclusions.
Just then, Abigail takes one step to her left. And another. And another, until the marking on the tombstone is clear for the world to see. Her name is etched on the tombstone. Just that. No marking a date of birth. Or a time of death. The tombstone has the name Abigail Lindsay etched on it. The camera then zooms on the face of Abigail herself, she isn’t smiling. At all. Her expression remains cold. Unreadable.
“Abigail Lindsay is dead.” She pauses to allow what she said to sink in. “I realized the Abigail Linday I knew died at Rise to Greatness 2019, technically before that. One day, Abigail met a woman by the name of Jordan Majors, all their interactions were supposed to be was what their short lived tag team name suggests, Friends With Benefits. Along the journey, Abigail opened herself up in a way that she should not have. She placed her fragile trust in a woman she should not have. Who could blame Jordan for looking out for herself? She is like most of you cliche people who believe winning and losing matches is the end all be all, she doesn’t grasp the nuances of life. Her thinking is as black and white as a chalkboard, no, Abigail Lindsay opted to let her in. Even endorsed her fighting by her side. What Jordan ended up doing was using Abigail Linday to secure a high profile match at Rise to Greatness where she knew all along, what she was going to do. If Abigail was smart, she would have nullified Jordan. Wasn’t the case. Abigail was humiliated, taken advantage of, made to look like a fool. You heard Jordan’s speech last week, the balls on that girl. When was the last time anyone taunted Abigail Lindsay like that? So full or arrogance, believing she is untouchable. Made me sick watching that video, it was pretty much the nail in the coffin of Abigail Lindsay as you once knew her.”
Despite announcing her “death” Abigail shakes her head in mourning.
“We all need to die eventually. No one stays the same forever. Adapt or perish is the law of the land. For years, Abigail Lindsay presented herself a certain way to the world at large. She made some friends. Enemies abound. Turned her back on a select view. Is that the reason she was able to get away with being the life of the party for so long? No one cared? Everyone considered her an afterthought...” Abigail chuckles. “Afterthought? The latest buzzword Gloria Braddock is tossing around, proclaiming Abigail Lindsay is an after thought in this business. Cannon fodder. That’s deep.”
“What if Glory is right? What if Abigail is an afterthought? Who is to say Abigail Lindsay actually cared about how the fans and wrestling pundits perceive her? When have we ever hitched our wagon on superficial markings of success? In an ideal scenario, being an afterthought is a good thing, no one will see us coming. Oh. I’m talking like venom now. All this ‘we’ talk, back to the point of the story.”
Abigail shrugs. “There comes a point in life where we all run our course. The Abigail you knew, she had her fun. She was able to charm the pants off of almost anyone but... she was also weak. She was without purpose. She was like a tumbleweed rolling around in the wind. The chaos talk? Was just talk. She didn’t cause any real chaos, she did shake things up in the World Title match costing Glory the World Championship. I digress. That version of Abigail Lindsay might as well been an afterthought.”
“She is dead.”
“Not for long. What I propose is killing the Abigail Linsday you knew, resurrecting her, becoming a better version of herself. I am going to remake what you knew as Abigail Lindsay into my own image. Bet your confused. Who am I if I am not Abigail? It should not take a genius to figure this one out.”
“I’m Serenity, silly.”
Abigail (or “Serenity”) coldly giggles. “She used my name in vein. Serenity Now... Serenity Now. No more. I am the part of Abigail that wants to choke the life outta Jordan. I am the part of Abigail that would smile with glee as Jordan’s eyes roll to the back of her head. I am the part of Abigail that wants to take a pair of scissors, cut off that pink sluts hair, toss it in the air, dancing around her unconscious body until the urge to hang her upside from a balcony slooowly goes away. I don’t appreciate Jordan humiliating Abigail. In a way I should thank Jordan? She killed her. Jordan killed... Abigail. This gives me a chance to rehab my girl. All will be right with the world; soon enough.”
Serenity cracks a smile. “I’m fully aware I am not wrestling Jordan this week. Or Gloria. Crissy Gardner is who the fates decided I am going to share the same ring with...” Serenity yawns at the prospect at competing against Crissy. “If anyone is an afterthought in Supreme Championship Wrestling, it would be you. I did not know you were still apart of the roster until I had to do the mandatory research necessary for this match; I had to scratch my head thinking, what has Crissy Gardner been up to lately. Say what you want about Abigail, she has been the talk of the town. From enjoying a tag team title reign a year ago, to her adventures with Ravyn, to being involved in a high profile match at Rise to Greatness where a Hall of Famer felt the need to come back to deal with Abigail. Flaws and mistakes aside, my not so stellar safe at least had the world talking. But you? Can’t count on one hand the memorable moments you had in this company. You place a nice little bow on your journey, spouting off to Peyton Rice how you are a fighter, you have to scratch, claw, breath just to keep yourself afloat, when, if you really think about it, you are no better than Samantha Raine, another former GDW superstar coming to SCW believing they have what it takes to keep their heads afloat, Angelica, sorry, that’s Angel without the I-C-A. Kayla, Marie, a host of others were able to make that transition to become somewhat bankable, but you Crissy, are still fighting. Your only real claim to fame is rehashing a failed relationship with Blake Mason no one cares about, not even him. When it comes to his league of ex girlfriends, he never mentions you, does he? I would be ashamed to have woke up in bed next to you, too. Nothing personal.”
Serenity winks. “I know, I know, I am supposed to give the lovely fans out there watching this video a reason to care about this match. I’m a creative person. I like to think so. A miracle worker, I am not. Why would the general fan care about a match between Abigail Lindsay and Crissy Gardner. They care more about how I will respond after the events of the past two shows... not like you have giving the audience a solid reason to not treat our match as the customary bathroom break, hey, lucky for me, I have never given a damn about what the fans think. They are a fickle bunch. The moment me and Ravyn came to an understanding, all the good will I built up, out the window. Aside from a few mistakes Abigail made, we are no different than we were when we signed a year ago. We still don’t care about rules. We still do whatever we want, now, all I want to do is align myself with my spirit animal.”
“Unconditional love doesn’t exist Crissy.”
“What I want, more than anything, is to use you to showcase the new Abigail Lindsay. The new Abigail Lindsay has no interest in wasting time. She isn’t an aimless spectator in the grand scheme of Supreme Championships undeniable engine. In Year 2 of Abigail Lindsay’s time in SCW, she will be more determined than ever to achieve whatever is on her pretty little mind, and I will be there, behind the scenes, ensuring that Abigail gets exactly what she wants. Making Jordan pay. And teaching Gloria Braddock a lesson. Hey, if both of them want to believe they have the upperhand on Abigail, there are sadly mistaken. Her death needed to take place in order for a new Abigail to rise from the ashes like a dark phoenix in the sky. Crissy? You are merely foreplay. That’s it. Wrong place. Wrong time. Bring the fight. Doesn’t matter.”
Serenity blows a kiss into the camera. “Ta-ta for now.”
Serenity saunters off screen as the scene fades on the final imagine being of the tombstone that has Abigail Linday’s name on it.