Supreme Championship Wrestling

Winner receives a World Championship opportunity at Rise to Greatness XIX
Forty-entrant over the top rope timed entry battle royal

2 RP Limit per character
Deadline: 11:59:59 pm ET Friday, June 3, 2022

        Ace Sky is backstage, his jet black hair is a man bun with the sides shaven, his brown eyes are full of his usual boyish optimism continue to make him look youthful despite the lines on his forehead showing his age of 40. Even with his beard he looks like he could pull off college age. His Texan drawl comes out when he gets more passionate. He has on his new white tights decorated in emblems of Third Eyes and stars. He is wearing his trademark navy blue aviator jacket that is also decorated
with many accoutrements of flags from Texas, the universal peace flag, and emblems of stars, rockets, peace signs and the quantum physics emblem.

cutting a promo for the battle royal, he is in a very positive mood due to his debut win.

                     Ace Sky:
         I have spent my whole life fighting from under, from being undersized and underestimated. 
        I keep fighting, that is what I do. I hold advantages experientially, mentally , physically and even  spiritually.
        I am TRANSCENDT, I will continue to transcend the competition here at SCW. 
        
       A lot may be bigger in size , none have a bigger brain. I am winning the head game, the athletic game.
       I will continue to transcend to the top of the rankings and soon I will be champion.
                   

Ooc: 1 of 2 for Glory. Amelia as always appears with permission.
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May 26th, 2022
St. Louis, Missouri
Off Camera
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SCW Breakdown from St. Louis went exactly the way Glory Braddock had hoped it would. The British Bombshell defeated Polly Playtime via submission to gain much needed momentum heading into the next big marquee event on the calendar; Taking Hold of the Flame. This isn’t just any marquee event, either. Taking Hold of the Flame begins the march towards Rise To Greatness, and the main event, battle royal itself, will decide who will get the SCW World Title Match at Rise To Greatness. Braddock has been in the main event of Rise To Greatness before, she had to use her Trios Contract to get herself there. Now she realizes that her only path to Rise To Greatness and the World Championship is through the battle royal. It truly is all or nothing for The British Bombshell. This year Taking Hold of the Flame holds great importance because it is a must win scenario for Glory Braddock. She must win if she hopes to get another shot at the SCW World Championship anytime soon.

Braddock’s journey has been a unique one, very different from previous years. Braddock is used to being a solo act but this year she has taken on not one but two students under her wing; one, a wrestler-in-training named Fiona Osbourne and the other a young lady who recently made her SCW debut, Amelia Stone. The British Bombshell has always been hesitant about taking anyone and personally mentoring them. Yet despite her own personal misgivings about the situation, Glory has found great success both personally and professionally while mentoring Amelia and Fiona. Professionally she has rediscovered her own passion for professional wrestling. Braddock has gone on to win some significant matches in recent weeks and now looks to potentially making a run at the World Championship by winning Taking Hold of the Flame. Personally she has remembered just who she used to be as a human being; a fun loving young woman, full of energy, who just wants to help people and do what is right.

It is that last part that still gets her in trouble; after all, doing what is right is almost never easy, and it is very often controversial. In this case, doing what is right centers entirely around none other than Fiona Osbourne. The British Bombshell has known for quite some time now that her young protege only just recently escaped the abusive care of her ruthless and uncaring foster father Todd Osbourne. Now Glory has learned that Fiona knows next to nothing about her actual parents. Fiona’s true past and true history is completely unknown to her. Fiona insists that she does not need to know about her past nor does she want to know about her past, but Glory Braddock is convinced that the truth can help. Glory feels that facing one’s past is a good way to heal and move onto a better future. Therefore, despite Fiona’s insistence upon not knowing, and despite the warnings from Kurt Logan, Glory’s husband, Glory has decided to stick her nose into this situation.

Immediately upon the conclusion of Breakdown, Braddock urged Amelia and Fiona to go on back to the hotel ahead of her. Glory brushed the two young students away, assuring them that she would be fine, that she had an errand she needed to run before going back to the hotel in St. Louis. Braddock didn’t tell them that the errand in question is a planned meeting with a private investigator that she had hired to do some research into Fiona’s past. It is night time, nearing closing time for Citygarden Sculpture Park in St. Louis, Missouri. Braddock is seated on a black iron bench, dressed in denim jeans, black boots, and a plain purple t-shirt. Her long blonde hair is pulled into a ponytail in the back.

This isn’t the first time Glory has had dealings with private investigators. It was just over a year ago that Glory Braddock was paying a private investigator to dig up dirt on the members of her company’s board of directors so that she could use the information against them, to blackmail them into doing whatever she wanted. It wasn’t exactly her proudest of moments. It certainly wasn’t the Braddock way. But Glory has found her way again, she knows right from wrong, and she is again dealing with private investigators, but this time she believes it is for all the right reasons.

Braddock is alerted as she hears the sound of footsteps from off in the distance. More specifically, it is the sound of someone stepping through leaves and grass, which ordinarily wouldn’t create that much noise, but on a night as quiet and still as this one, it is clearly enough to catch the attention of The British Bombshell. Glory stands up and turns around, expecting her private investigator to be approaching. She sighs with a sense of disappointment as she sees her young protege, Amelia Stone, making her way over to the bench.

“Amelia? What on earth are you doing here?”

“Looking for you.” Amelia responds quickly and simply. “Why did you ditch me?”

“I didn’t ditch you. I told you and Fiona to go back to the hotel.” Braddock pauses. She thinks that if Amelia is here, Fiona potentially could be here too, and that would ruin everything. “If you’re here, then where IS Fiona?”

“Back at the hotel.” Amelia grins. “At least, I think so.”

“You THINK so?!”

“Well I never went back to the hotel with her.” Amelia says, shrugging her shoulders. “I told her you needed me and that she should go on to the hotel without us.”

“So you lied?”

“No, I just assumed you needed me.”

“You know what they say happens when you assume things? You make an ass out of you and me.”

“Ass? Out of you and….oh I get it!” Amelia begins to chuckle softly. Glory pats her on the back.

“Thanks for thinking about me, mate, but I think I have things well in hand. So why don’t you go on back to the hotel with Fiona, ok? Make sure she’s ok.”

“It sounds like you’re trying to ditch me again.”

“I’m not trying to ditch you. I’m just waiting on someone…”

“And you found someone. Me!” Amelia says, grinning from ear to ear. Glory can’t help but chuckle, despite her own frustrations. She would much rather Amelia leave and go back to the hotel. She doesn’t want her involved in this. But at the same time it doesn’t look like Amelia is going to leave anytime soon, and on top of that the private investigator will be here any second. Braddock sighs and nods her head.

“Fine. You can stay.”

“Yay!” Amelia says, jumping up and down excitedly. “Sooooo what are you doing here?”

“First of all sit down, ok?” Glory says, motioning to the bench. Amelia nods and sits down. Braddock sits down next to her. “Next, you have to promise not to say anything to Fiona. Ok?”

“Oh a secret? Cool!”

“You’ll keep this a secret right?!”

“I promise!”

“Great.” Glory sighs, still unsure if she can fully trust Amelia with this secret. But still, there’s little she can do about it now. “How much do you know about Fiona?”

“She’s not a good karaoke singer. Oh and I know that tacos give her bad gas. And…”

“Besides all that.” Glory says with a wry grin on her face. Amelia pauses to think for a moment and then shrugs her shoulders.

“Uh…I dunno…”

“About her past? What was she and where was she before she joined us?”

“Oh that! Yeah, Fiona talked to me about this before. Her parents abandoned her and she was raised by an abusive jerk named Todd. She was a model and that introduced her to your cousin who introduced her to you and the rest is history!”

“Right, that’s all she told you and that’s all she told me, and that’s because apparently that’s all she knows.”

“Seriously?” Amelia asks, sounding somewhat surprised. Glory nods her head.

“Yes, unfortunately Fiona knows next to nothing about where she really comes from. Now she claims it doesn’t bother her but I’m telling you, Amelia, I can sense that deep down inside it does bother her not knowing who she really is and where she really came from. And I intend to do whatever I can to help her.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“That’s why I’m here tonight. I hired a private investigator to look into her past for me. I hope he’s got some information for me.”

“So wait a sec, Fiona said she doesn’t care?”

“She claims it doesn’t bother her but I don’t believe her.” Glory responds. Amelia shrugs her shoulders.

“I dunno, Glory. Why do you think its so important if it isn’t that important to Fiona?”

“I know what Fiona said, but I don’t believe her. I think deep down inside she really does care, she really does want to know about her past. Besides, even if she doesn’t care, I still think it is important to know your past and to know where you came from. You can learn a great deal from your past.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right!” Amelia’s face brightens up. “Fiona could be like, uh, a filthy rich heiress, or maybe next in line to the English throne!”

“Pretty sure Charles is next in line…and besides that, Fiona isn’t even English!”

“Oh, duh!” Amelia and Glory share a laugh together. The laughter drowns out the sound of another set of footsteps making their way through the park and closer to the two women sitting on the bench. This time it is a silhouette of a male. Eventually the male figure gets closer, close enough that Glory can see him out of the corner of her eye. Braddock stands up, and Amelia follows suit. They turn and find a brown haired gentlemen in dress pants and a light blue button up shirt approaching them. The British Bombshell extends a hand as he approaches.

“Aaron! Nice to see you again!” Glory exclaims. Aaron accepts her handshake. She then turns and motions to Amelia. “Aaron, this is Amelia. Amelia, this is Aaron, the private investigator I told you about.”

“Nice to meet you mister Aaron.” Amelia remarks.

“Likewise.” Aaron says gruffly. He looks up at Glory. “Shall we speak in private?”

“Are you sure that’s necessary?”

“I am sure it is, Ms. Braddock.” Aaron looks annoyingly at Amelia, who sticks her tongue out at him. Glory sighs and nods her head.

“Fine.” She turns to face Amelia. “You go on back to the hotel, ok? Tell Fiona I’ll be right there.”

“But what about all this?”

“Don’t worry, mate, I’ll tell you everything later.” Glory says, winking at Amelia. Amelia still doesn’t really want to go but reluctantly nods her head and turns to walk away. She knows that she can trust on Glory to spill the beans. She will learn the juicy details later. Once Amelia is out of sight, Braddock turns her attention back to Aaron. She folds her arms over her chest and stares impatiently at the private investigator.

“Well? What do you have for me?”

“I do want to point out that this task you gave me was rather difficult, Ms. Braddock; young Ms. Osbourne is almost an unknown. Finding out anything about her was a challenge.”

“If you’re playing at a sympathy angle hoping I’ll give you more money then you can forget it. I’ve already paid you a rather generous sum of money MORE than what your usual pay rate is, and I paid you more because I did know how challenging this would be. So don’t expect to get anything else from me, ok mate?”

“I’m simply curious as to how important this information really is to you, Ms. Braddock.”

“And I’m telling you that this isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with your type, mate.” Braddock remarks coldly. “Remember, Aaron, I haven’t finished paying you everything I promised to pay you. Tell me what you have learned and I will give you this check I have in my pocket for the rest of what you’re owed. Otherwise our deal is off.”

“Very well.” Aaron says with a half-smirk on his face. “I suppose we can start…and finish…with the parents.”

“Start and finish?” Glory asks curiously. “What do you mean by that?”

“All I managed to learn about this Fiona Osbourne is the identity of her parents, and I learned very little about that, to be honest.”

“You’re joking!”

“I am NOT joking. I told you that she was a virtual unknown. There was very little information to be found. Now if you want to hear what I have to say then let me speak, otherwise you can be on your way without hearing any of it.” Aaron says nastily. Glory rolls her eyes and nods her head.

“Fine. What do you know about her parents? Do you know their names?”

“I do not know their names. What I did find out is that they were both drug addicts. Their drug addiction led to other small time crimes, such as petty robbery and theft in order to maintain their drug habit. At some point the female got pregnant and had a child. The most likely reason they carried the child to full term was because they couldn’t afford an abortion. But obviously these two weren’t going to let a little thing like parenthood get in the way of their drug habit, so they abandoned the child.”

“Where are the parents now?” Glory asks.

“My research shows that they both died in a shootout with police.”

“You know that they died in a shootout with police but you don’t know their damn names?!” Glory says, fury and anger entering her face. Aaron smirks.

“I can probably learn their names…for a price.”

“Fuck you!” Glory exclaims angrily. She reaches into her pocket, produces the check, and hands it to Aaron. “Take your damn money and get the hell out of my face!”

“Very well.” He looks at the check and grins. “It was nice business with you, Ms. Braddock.”

Aaron turns and walks away with the check in hand. Glory is fuming as she watches him walk away. She is also disappointed about what she learned. This wasn’t exactly the information she had hoped to find out. Will this kind of history help Fiona or harm her? Perhaps Glory should keep all of this new information to herself?

==========
May 28th, 2022
Miami, Florida
Off Camera
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It is Saturday morning, just a little over one full day since Glory Braddock’s nighttime meeting in St. Louis with her private investigator to learn about the past, the background of her young protege Fiona Osbourne. Braddock had high hopes that the information she would learn would somehow be beneficial to Fiona’s growth as a person. Instead what she learned from Aaron the PI is that Fiona was merely the product of two drug users and thieves, nothing more and nothing less. Braddock had hoped that whatever she had learned about Fiona’s past would be beneficial to the young girl, but how can this new information be beneficial? The British Bombshell went to the trouble to pay for a private investigator so that she could learn this information but now she is beginning to second guess herself. Maybe ignorance truly is bliss? The other question on the mind of The British Bombshell is Aaron himself. Could he be lying about this? He certainly was very rude, crude, and uncaring. He certainly gave off the impression that he was a slimy con artist. Could he have made up this whole story about Fiona coming from common crooks?

All of this is on the mind of Glory Braddock as she laces into the heavy bag at her private gym in Miami, Florida. Working out is a good way to deal with frustrations and anxiety, and right now is the perfect time to work out, especially with Taking Hold of the Flame coming up. Braddock is dressed in purple workout shorts, and a white t-shirt. She is punching the heavy with heavy rights and lefts. She throws the occasional kick so as to work out her leg muscles as well. This continues for a few more minutes until the sound of the door opening startles Glory to attention. She stops assaulting the heavy bag to turn around and see her students, Amelia and Fiona, entering the gym.

“Hey! You ditched us!” This is the familiar voice of Amelia Stone. This makes the second time in less than forty-eight hours Glory ditched the pair. Amelia and Fiona don’t find it very funny but Glory does, as it shows on the ear to ear grin she is sporting.

“Yeah! What gives?” Fiona asks. Glory shrugs her shoulders.

“Well the best I recall, this past Monday you ditched me and left me at home to come here to train by yourselves.”

“No we di…” Amelia starts to protest but then sighs and nods her head “...ok, fine, we did.”

“It was her idea.” Fiona says in an attempt to throw Amelia under the bus. “Why am I getting punished?”

“Guilt by association.”

“Fair enough.” Fiona answers, shrugging her shoulders. Glory approaches the pair. She takes appraisal of them; she notices Amelia is already wearing her gear while Fiona is still wearing her pajamas. Glory chuckles softly and points to the locker room area.

“Ok Fiona, you need to get changed into your gear. Amelia, you can stay here and we’ll get started.”

“Ok. I’ll be back!” Fiona rushes off towards the locker room area. Glory meanwhile turns back to the heavy bag and begins pounding away at it with rights and lefts. Once Fiona is out of sight, Amelia approaches the heavy bag cautiously.

“So, uh, what’s up?”

“What do you mean, what’s up?”

“Oh come on, Glory, don’t play dumb. You know what I mean.”

“I honestly have no idea.” Glory says, lying right through her teeth.

“You ran me off when that Aaron guy came by to talk to you Thursday night after Breakdown. You told me that you would tell me everything but you still haven’t. So come on, tell me!”

The British Bombshell stops punching the heavy bag and sighs deeply. She isn’t sure she wants to tell Amelia, she isn’t sure Amelia would even want to know if she actually had any idea what the truth was; but Glory did promise to tell her. Braddock nods her head.

“Well as it turns out Aaron wasn’t much help.”

“So he had nothing?”

“Ohe had something alright.” Braddock sighs. “But it wasn’t much. All he told me was that Fiona’s parents were both drug users. They committed petty crime to keep up their drug habit. When Fiona was born they abandoned her because, well, obviously they only cared about their drugs, they didn’t care about being parents. And according to Aaron they both died in a shootout with police.”

“Seriously?!” Amelia is in shock upon hearing this. “Are you sure?”

“Hell, I’m not sure that was the truth. Aaron was rude, an absolute jerk, and an absolute con artist. I wouldn’t be surprised if he just made that shit up.”

“So are you going to get another private investigator to confirm if what he said was true?” Amelia asks. Glory shakes her head.

“What’s the point? Maybe I should just drop this whole thing? It hasn’t proven fruitful. It hasn’t achieved what I had hoped it would achieve. I mean, there’s no way this could help Fiona.”

“Speaking of Fiona…” Amelia’s voice trails off “...are you still gonna tell her?”

Braddock opens her mouth to respond but she is quickly cut off by the third member of their trio. “Tell me what?” Braddock and Amelia turn to see Fiona approaching. She has already gotten changed into her workout gear. That was much quicker than Glory and Amelia had anticipated. Fiona approaches the heavy bag where Glory and Amelia are and folds her arms over chest, expecting an explanation. Glory, for her part, has little explanation to give.

“Uh, well, I was going to tell you that…training for Taking Hold of the Flame begins now!”

“Really?” Fiona asks, looking on skeptically. “I haven’t even made my debut yet, and I’m definitely not signed up for Taking Hold of the Flame.”

“Yes but training is always beneficial! Especially my training! It’s fory competitors so I need you two and thirty seven more to fight me all at once so I can definitely be ready for anything that might happen and…” Glory’s voice trails off as she sees Fiona chuckling softly and shaking her head. Fiona is clearly not buying any of this.

“Glory, just stop. I know that you hired a PI to look into my past.”

“How…” Glory sighs deeply and shakes her head “...how did you know?”

“I overheard Amelia talking about it.” Fiona states, pointing to Amelia, who just smiles sheepishly. Glory shakes her head.

“Look, Fiona, I’m sorry. I really and truly am. But believe me, I only had the best of intentions. I have always believed that facing your past will only make you stronger. Yet in you I saw someone who knew NOTHING about her past. I thought I was doing you a favor by trying to find out about your past for you.” Braddock says this and waits for Fiona’s response. Her response is a somewhat surprising laugh.

“Then I suppose I should apologize to you.”

“Why on earth should you apologize to me?”

“Because I lied to you.” Fiona says with a grin. “I already knew all about my biological parents.”

“How did you find out? I thought you were abandoned at birth?”

“I was…” she sighs “...but you know how well connected my foster father was, right? Well he found out about my past. He would frequently use my past against me as a psychological weapon to make me feel bad about myself, to make me feel less than human. He would taunt me about how my parents were druggies who didn’t care about me and didn’t want me.” Tears form in Fiona’s eyes. “So eventually I just started doing my best to try and forget about my parents. And sometimes it would work. But inevitably the memories would come back.”

“Thanks to me…” Glory says quietly. Fiona shakes her head and places a hand on Glory’s shoulder.

“No, it wasn’t your fault. If anything, you helped me. I mean, I cannot just simply forget about my past. But I can overcome it. I was abandoned by my biological parents who didn’t want me, my foster parents only wanted to use me, but now I have a real family…you and Kurt are like parents to me. Amelia, Dawn, Melinda are like sisters to me. And since I see no reason to remain attached to the last name of a jerk who only wanted to use me and abuse me, I have decided that I want to legally change my name…” Fiona wipes tears from her eyes “...to Fiona Logan.”

Light bursts into a room and fills an otherwise black space. A chair is bolted to the floor in the middle of the room, and a woman is strapped to that chair by every appendage. As the light sweeps across her face, she wakes up and sits up. But her eyes do not open. They do not remain closed out of fear of being blinded by the light that has been violently introduced. But because they are either swollen shut from the damage that’s been done to them or sealed shut by the dried blood caked over them. The woman’s head swivels from side to side, and her mouth curls in preparation to produce a blood curdling scream to match the blood boiling anger and fear she now feels.

That scream does not come. But a calmness does. Her head which had been too heavy for her shoulders the moment the light touched it had now steadied. Her fingers which had clawed at the wooden arm rest she was strapped to until her fingertips, still devoid of fingernails, began to bleed, relaxed and settled, even wiggling genially as they settled still. The man entering dropped a tool bag at the woman’s feet. It wasn’t sealed and several instruments poked out of the top. All were rusty. Most were bloody.

Squatting down and leaning on his knees, the man smiled and looked into the slits the woman had for eyes, and blinked slowly. He looked pleasant enough with his scrubs and butches apron. He even smelt nice, what little her broken nose could smell. And then snapped the rubber glove on his left hand, to signal that they were about to begin. Again. Pulling a pair of pliers from the back, he stood up and greeted her the way he’d always done so.

“Good morning Do-”

Miles and an entire year away from that room, Sarah wakes up in a much different one. She does not swing dramatically for a face that isn't there. She does not grab at her wrists trying to free herself from confines long since removed or anything like that. She throws her feet over the side of the bed and grabs her cigarettes off the nightstand. She smacks the bottom of the soft pack and grips the one that pops out with her teeth. A moment later the zippo lighter is back on the table and her lungs are filling with smoke. She doesn’t look at her wrists and the marks that those straps left behind. She doesn’t feel her fingernails to remind herself they’ve grown back.

She just stands up, cracks her back, shoulders and neck and starts her day the same way she’s started it every day since then.

Angry as fuck.

She stepped into the kitchen of her basement apartment, which is just the corner of the one room, and looked into the fridge. Half a Vitamin water. An almost empty bottle of vodka. Some milk that isn’t quite cottage cheese but has long since passed the ‘liquid’ stage. And a single piece of cake on a disposable plate that has made the napkin covering it a part of it completely. Mumbling under her breath, Sarah shuts the door and ashes her cigarette into the sink. Grabbing a pair of pants off the floor, she slides them on and slips her feet into some boots without concern of socks, and heads out the door.

Walking slowly down the sidewalk with the cigarette between her lips, she passes mailmen delivering mail, and crossing guards getting ready for children to exit nearby schools. And not one of them looks in her direction. Fear or experience, we can’t be sure. But she is, and it warms her black heart just a tiny bit.

Reaching the Cowboy cafe, Sarah pulls on the door but finds it locked. Inside, an older-than-she-looks, but looks-pretty-fucking-old woman is behind a counter, counting money while two young men wash tables like 19 year olds fuck. They’re not really doing a good job and they just want to finish already. Looking up from the cash in hand, she shakes her head no, and Sarah shakes her head yes just as emphatically. The woman slams the money down and walks over to the door, opening it slightly.

“ Barb…” The woman says, using the name Sarah has given her. “ We’re closed. You know we close at 2pm each and every day, and yet each and every day you show up at 2pm on the dot. ”

“ Gladys, I am far too hungry to go through this. I know it’s our schtick, and I’m very fun to talk to, but just let me get my food and I’ll be gone. You know you’re going to let me in. Why waste both our ti- ”

“ FINE! ..come on in a’ready. ”

“ Thank you, I love you SO much. ” Sarah didn’t love her. In fact Sarah stopped listening to her the second she stepped foot inside. She’d say that and Gladys, the oldest whore in Medora, would go on and on about her husband and all the cliche shit women say about them before going home and licking their taint so hard their old balls empty onto their shoulder. Sarah would wait until these terrible anecdotes were over and then she’d say the same thing she’d always say…

“ Tell your boy to make me a Turkey BLT, extra mayo on the SIDE, with some fries and rings, and…what pie you have left? ”

“ We ran out of all ‘cept Raisin Sour Cream. ”

“ huh. Wonder why. Ok. Just that then. ”

“ We actually got some good rice pudding. It’s not pie.. ”

“ You’re right. It’s not. So no thank you. ”

“ Doesn’t have any raisins in it, though. On account of that we used them all for the sour cream and raisin pie. I could pick some of them out from the pie, if you’d like. ”

“ No. Just the TBLT and fries, please. ”

“ No onion rings? ”

“ …yes. I want onion rings. I’m sorry I neglected to say it that time. ”

“ you know what… ”

“ …what... ”

“ I bet you if I took some of the raisins and just scooped them into the pudding, you’d never know the difference. Bet that sour cream is gonna just mesh with the rest of it, because we did use a little to offset the sugar in the pudding. ”

Sarah Wolf was not currently known for, nor never would be again, known for her restraint. She was a vile and vicious woman who sought to hurt others as she had been hurt. Not because it’s freeing, or because it shows you the value of the life you have. But becase fuck you.

She wanted to slam the saddle bagged bitch upside the head with a napkin holder until her face fell off. They frown on stuff like that, unfortunately. So kindness was the name of the weapon she’d have to kill her with.

“ Gladys. Please put in my order. I really don’t want to keep you here any longer than I have to. ”

“ It’s not a bother at all. Just sit yourself right down and I’ll be back in a flash. ”

“ Great. Thank you. ”

Sitting at the counter, Sarah watched as the sun dried whore vanished into the back of the kitchen. Sarah took a breath. A deep one. The hard part about working two jobs where you get to hurt people is that often it bleeds into the parts of life where it doesn’t belong. Civilized society says that you can’t knock someone's teeth down their throat for not using a turn signal and cutting you off, or having too many items in the express lane. Civilized society says you have to be understanding. Civilized society says you have to just go home and drink a glass of wine and pretend it didn’t make you want to break a jaw.

Civilized society should get fucked like a two dollar whore on payday.
____________________

“ One thing I’d like to make crystal clear to anyone and everyone is my intent. I am not a midcarder. I am not a ‘free meal.’ I didn’t come here to just be a contender. To just be a nameless face or faceless name lost in a crowd of 38 others who couldn’t hack it. I didn’t come here to ‘make a name.’ I already have a name. I came here to make a reputation.”

“I have one currently. One that I’ve built and rebuilt from the ground up. I started as a fan, transitioned to a manager, to an agent, and then finally a competitor. Not because there wasn’t any talent worth being a fan of, or managing or being an agent of. Because there wasn’t any talent that was anywhere as good as me. That’s how I used to see it, anyhow. Now I’ve got a different perspective.”

“ I’m not going to proclaim myself to be this unmovable object. Puff out my chest and tell you that ‘you’ll never get past me because I’m’ whatever nickname or monicker I’m using that week. We’ve all heard that a hundred times from a hundred different people in a hundred different ways. The only thing more common than it not being true is the fact that literally everyone in this business thinks it’s absolutely false about everyone else and absolutely true about them. Call me the wild card but I don’t think I’m the best ever. Quite the contrary.”

“ I am literally the worst. ”

“ Maintaining friendships or even healthy work relationships? The worst. Keeping my nose out of other people's business? The worst. Treating people with dignity and respect? Again and again, if there is a qualifier of some sort that makes someone a good person, you can bet your very last dollar with one hundred percent certainty that in a list of 1 to 100…I’m going to be dead last, the worst fucking one of the lot. 38 other SC W’s are going to climb into that ring, and one of us is going to be remembered as the winner. The one with the prize of going all the way to the top to challenge for the most coveted prize in the industry. And another is going to be remembered as the literal worst behaved person anyone has ever seen. The one who took advantage. The one who caused needless suffering for no reason other than the sheer joy it brought them. Did they want to win? Or did they just want to watch someone scream? Guess which one I intend on being?”

“Wrong, you muppet made of a jizz sock.”

“It’s both.”
____________________

The bag of food tucked securely under her arm, Sarah exits the cafe and places her sunglasses back over her eyes. Muttering to herself over the fact that she left her cigarettes at home, she picks up her pace, and is just about to cross the street, when she is stepped in front of by Christy Suarez. whose mother’s full time job is hairdresser and her part time job is match maker, and Christy had made it her mission in life to grow up just like mom.

Sarah was at the point where she wanted to duct tape her to an out of state bound truck.

“ Christy. Please. Not today. ”

“ Now you just hold on and let me make my case, Barb! Have you seen that Jeremy West? He is just about the cutest thing. And I hear tell he don’t mind your tattoos none much either. ”

“ Christy. I am no- ”

“ Don’t tell me you aint interested when I know every car gonna need a mechanic and from the look on your face I can tell you ain’t had your hood with someone up under it in quite some time. This is my business, I know these things, hon! ”

“ Jesus Christy, you have to stop quoting your mom… ”

“ Barbara..Just go out with him once. Maybe ya’ll will hit it off! ”

“ Christy, I’ll tell you what. I want you to go to this James.. ”

“ Jeremy. ”

“ …And I want you to ask him how he feels about pegging. If he agrees to do it with me, I’ll gladly go out with him. Ok?”

“ ….ok, but what is that?. ”

“ It’s like dancing. Do you like dancing? ”

“ I do! Is it fun? ”

“ It’s the most f-...Listen I’m gonna be honest with you, this got away from me. So I’m going to give you some money, and you promise me to never mention any of this again, ok? ”

“ aw, that was a bad word? ”

“ How bad of a word do you think it is? ”

“ $20 bucks worth? ”

“...done. ”

Sarah pulled out her wallet and slipped a $20 bill into the little girl's hand. The girl smiled, and rode off. Sarah had known for quite a while that the girl had only ever talked to her in the hopes that Sarah would say something off color, and the little girl could blackmail her for it. But when a child rides up to you and gives you the chance to curse them out for $20, well that’s what she would call a win-win. Also, what she called ‘therapy.’

And at least this time it was cheap. Last time she made a remark about moving somewhere with less kids and while she never said where exactly she was referring to, Christy made a very good case as to what others would believe.

Whatever nest egg this kid was building off Sarah’s inability to not say the wrong thing might have doubled if not more.

____________________

“ Growing up, one of my favorite types of restaurants was always the buffet ones. As a child you are told what to eat, how to eat, when to eat it, etc. Protein and Veg and starch and then you have dessert. Or salad, and then pasta, and then protein, and then dessert. But at a buffet all the rules went out the window. You could have your dessert alongside your veg and then have your protein later. You could eat pasta and cake at the same time if you chose. Why did this rule only exist within the confines of a buffet restaurant? Why didn’t it exist anywhere else in life? Here at SCW, it does. At Flame, 39 others and myself get to behave as if this business doesn’t have layers or levels or rules of engagement. The newcomers like myself get the chance to take on tried and true veterans and veteranettes, who we’d usually have to go weeks before even getting a glimpse of, let alone put fists to face. We can fight the appetizer Ducky, as well as the starch that is Konrad Raab. I’m not going to compare all of these people to food because there’s 39 of them and that shits just boring to even think about doing. But you see my point. You get my point. ”

“ But do you get my reasoning? Do any of you see why this match appeals to me in such a way? So many people all at once, all vying for one thing. It is chaotic and it is almost impossible to win. Why would anyone look forward to something that could very easily go so wrong so quickly? Maybe it’s because the chaos is the reward, and seeing things go wrong for other people is just the right kind of sexy? Or so you might think. And so you’d be wrong. ”

“ I get the feeling a lot of you are wrong about a lot of things, though. Looking at the lot of you, ‘wrong’ is a word that comes up often and is redfined by some of you. Dancing bear and a badly named luchadore as tag team champions. Is it wrong that I think they’re only champions because the rest of you can’t stand each other enough to stop them? Is it wrong to think that some of you came here because gimmicks are more rampant than having the same last name, which is boggling if true? Is it wrong for you to think that I am only in this match to try and reach the pinnacle of the SCW championship? Would you be wrong to think that?”

“ Yes. ”

“ Yes you would be. ”

“ This match does not make me wet because I could win a world title. This match makes me THROB because I get to hurt a lot of people in a very small amount of time. I don’t have to wait to be booked against this one or that one. I simply have to reach out and grab them. This isn’t a match. This is a buffet. And I intend to fill my plate multiple times. Whether I start with the obvious filler shit like onions rings, Calliope, or the goddamn snow crab legs, Matthew Knox. And just like the buffet places, I may not like it all, but I’ll finish it all. ”

“ And that’s why you’re wrong about this match, and you’re wrong about me. ”

“ And much like there are levels and layers to a buffet and this business, there are levels and layers to being wrong. You can expect a great fight out of someone like Tsunami, but you’d be barking up the wrong tree. You could expect to make someone like Datura that while they may have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed, that others were born on the wrong side of the tracks. You could be on the level that Asher Hayes is, who looks like the kind of guy who got off on the wrong foot with whatever happened to his face, or you could look at Kim Williams who laughs on the wrong side of her face. Or, you could be like me and assume a bunch of stuff about a bunch of people you didn’t have time to actually look into it, and have to find out just how wrong you can be. ”

“ But to the lot of you. Show up to this match and discount me because you don’t know me. Tell yourselves I’ve done nothing to no one worth knowing. Whatever it is that we do in this business when met with something we don’t fully understand; do that. And at the end of this, when all is said, and all is done. You will look at me. You will look to me. And find out the last and final layer or level to wrong, is being dead wrong. ”

“ And you might be one, or you might be the other, but for some of you jizz muppets.. ”

“ It’s going to be both. ”

____________________

Sarah sat down at the small table in her basement apartment and unloaded her bag of food. She looked down at the TLBT, the Fries, The Onion Rings, and a small container of rice pudding that had a metric fuck ton of raisins which were covered in a material that was thicker than the rest of the pudding. Of course, from the earlier conversation we know this to be sour cream. Sarah would grab a spoon and put her feet up. She ate every drop of the rice pudding as sour cream be damned, it was very good.

The phone call that came an hour later on the other hand was not. A distressed mother asking why her daughter was searching for ‘pegging’ on ‘the google.’ With a laugh, Sarah grabbed her clothes and the few personal things she had and headed off to the next small town that would inevitably have enough of her shit.

Of course, they’d have other things to worry about besides giving chase. Like how someone went and burnt down that nice little cafe in the middle of the night.

1 of 2
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==========
May 26th, 2022
St. Louis, Missouri
On Camera
==========

We are backstage after Breakdown has gone off the air. Cameras are still rolling, however, and they catch up to the eccentric, somewhat deranged, Kimberly Williams. The Woman Scorned is still wearing her torn denim jeans, black boots, and a Konrad Raab t-shirt with “Konrad Raab” marked out and “Oktoberfest” written underneath. The lunatic ginger has her SCW Underground Championship title belt draped over her right shoulder. Williams notices the cameras following her so she stops and turns to face them.

“I suppose you want me to comment about tonight? Well no one ever accused me of hiding from the spotlight, am I right?!” Kim throws her head back and cackles loudly. “See, ever since Retribution and that world title double jeopardy craziness, ever since then I have been telling the world that I only wanted one thing and one thing only, and that I would do anything to get it. I kidnapped people, I vandalized SCW property, I even walked off the job…” Kimberly sighs and shakes her head “...and I admit, that last bit wasn’t in my character. It wasn’t who I am. That was all Marie. And unfortunately, Marie’s scheming, manipulation, and cowardly tactics did not get me what I wanted. So I took matters into my own hands. Instead of making all sorts of intricate, complicated plans, I went back to what works for me…I became an agent of chaos. I just did things. I harassed Oktoberfest’s family. I mocked him in song…a damn good song, might I add…and ultimately, forced the hand of not only Oktoberfest but Shaun Cruiserweight as well. I earned my shot at the Underground Championship and I beat Oktoberfest inside the confines of the steel cage.” Kimberly pats her Underground Title belt.

“Now this is back where it belongs! I have reclaimed the one thing I have wanted! I am happy…” she snickers nastily “...but I am FAR from content. See, tonight I was trying to explain my future with the Underground Championship when I kept getting interrupted by the likes of Thunderlips, a fake as gem stone named Diamond whose ass I already kicked a few weeks ago on Breakdown, Alexis Quinne, Crystal Zdunich, both of whom have been doing so poorly as of late that they have to step into my lane onto my segment and interrupt MY television time in order keep themselves relevant? And all so they can tell the world that they are going to win Taking Hold of the Flame…” Kimberly shakes her head.

“It’s sad, actually. It’s sad that you are so down on your luck, so down in the gutter, and in the case of Thunderlips just so cheesy and pathetic, that you have to hedge all of your bets on Taking Hold of the Flame in order to earn any kind of self respect in this company. You are eyeing Taking Hold of the Flame as your ticket to the main event of Rise To Wasley and the SCW World Championship. Then again, you’re no different from the rest of them. In fact, there are thirty nine wrestlers who look at Taking Hold of the Flame as their way to achieve their dream of becoming SCW World Champion.” Kimberly shakes her head.

“But not this girl…I said back at Retribution that I don’t care about the SCW World Championship and I still don’t care about it. So why then am I entering Taking Hold of the Flame where the prize is a shot at the SCW World Title? Well part of it is just to be able to be the Grinch who stole Christmas. Or in this case, the Grinch who stole Rise to Wasley. I am going to win Taking Hold of the Flame and thus deny each and every one of those thirty nine other competitors their dream. But I’m not just doing this out of spite alone. I’m not that kind of a cold hearted bitch. I do have another motivation. Believe it or not, there is a method to my madness. You will have to wait to find out exactly what is going on inside this crazy old mind of The Woman Scorned. Just remember that just like with Retribution and the double jeopardy match, Taking Hold of the Flame is not about the SCW World Championship. It’s about sending a message.” Kimberly turns and walks off. The camera fades to black.

==========
May 29th, 2022
Boston, Massachusetts
Off Camera
==========

After several months of being given the runaround by SCW management, months of negotiation, and harassment, finally “The Woman Scorned” Kimberly Williams has won back her SCW Underground Championship from Konrad Raab. It was a brutally violent and bloody affair inside of a steel cage, a match that definitely took years off of the careers of both wrestlers, possibly even years off of their lives, but for a woman as twisted and deranged as Williams she doesn’t really care about that. She saw her prize, the Underground Title, and she took it. She did whatever was necessary to achieve it. Now with Taking Hold of the Flame and the beginning of Rise To Greatness about to begin, Kimberly sees the opportunity to not only proudly represent the Underground division, but to even elevate it. A Taking Hold of the Flame victory by the Underground Champion would certainly elevate not only her status but the championship’s. So Kimberly, along with thirty-nine others, will be throwing her name into the hat for Taking Hold of the Flame and The Woman Scorned feels very confident as she walks into this challenging battle royal style match, especially as she is coming off of a championship victory.

Yet Kimberly still finds herself distracted by forces outside of her control. For the better of the year The Woman Scorned has found herself the victim of an obsessed stalker. Many celebrity athletes should be used to this kind of treatment, obsessed fans can be a part of life if you are in the public spotlight. The other problem is that this isn’t an obsessed fan. This stalker is obsessed with doing whatever it takes to ruin Kimberly’s life. What began as a direct physical assault on Kimberly herself outside of a hotel in Nashville, Tennessee eventually expanded to attacks on her sisters; Marie Jones’s home was burned down by an arsonist and Jessica Lasiewicz’s home was broken into.

It wasn’t hard for Kimberly to figure out who this stalker was; she already had an inkling as to the stalker’s motivation. The attacks began shortly after her twin sister, Marie, initiated a very public legal defense of their uncle, Douglas Williams, who was convicted of a series of murders in Massachusetts years before they were born. Kim had discovered evidence that their uncle may not have been acting alone and Marie wanted to use the evidence in order to get his sentence reduced. Kimberly knew their uncle was a murderer, regardless of if he acted alone, and that he belonged in prison. She also knew that Marie would potentially stir up a hornet’s nest if she got involved. Kim had no idea that someone would take such great offense to Marie’s legal wranglings that they would take it upon themselves to attack them and their family. But Kim knew that is exactly what had happened. Someone wanted to stop Marie…and by extension Kim…from helping exonerate their uncle. And a little more digging helped Kim learn the identity of the stalker; a young woman named Carol Johnson, the baby sister of a woman who had been killed by Douglas Williams.

A few weeks ago Kimberly came face to face with Carol in a local cemetery in Boston. After a brief struggle, The Woman Scorned had gained possession of a knife and had the opportunity to put an end to Carol once and for all. All she had to do was drive the knife through Carol’s throat and it would have been over. But somehow, for some reason, Kimberly could not bring herself to end Carol’s life. Perhaps Kim feels pity for Carol’s family? Kim’s uncle took her sister away from her, and if Kim took Carol’s life then their mother would be left all alone without either of her daughters. Kim’s act of mercy may have just prolonged the inevitable, because Carol made it clear that she would not stop until either she or Kim was dead.

It is obviously difficult to enjoy yourself when you have that kind of dark cloud hanging over your head. The Woman Scorned has also come to have a great appreciation for her family, especially after the lives of her sisters were recently threatened by the demented Carol Johnson. This is why Kimberly is currently spending time with her twelve year old nephew, Sean Connor Jones. The twelve year old is Marie’s son. Kim is taking care of him this afternoon because Marie is busy speaking with the attorney handling their uncle Douglas’s case. Marie had been hell bent on continuing the legal defense of their case, despite the attack in Nashville and despite the arson. But when the attacks began to focus on their half-sister Jessica Lasiewicz, Kim finally managed to convince Marie to drop the case. She convinced Marie to let Douglas stay in prison. Meanwhile Kim takes care of Sean today to ensure he is safe from Carol. Plus, Kim gets to bond with her nephew.

Williams and her nephew are walking down the streets of downtown Boston. Kim is dressed in torn denim jeans, flip flops, and a black “SCW” t-shirt. Sean is wearing denim jeans, sneakers, a plain white t-shirt. Kimberly is carrying her stuffed lead weight loaded penguin Wasley with her. Sean has his hands full with a bag of goodies that he just won at the arcade. In the other hand he has a thing of cotton candy that he is munching away.

“This afternoon has been awesome!” Sean exclaims as he takes a bite of cotton candy.

“I’m glad you had fun kiddo! You really did kick some major ass in that arcade…uh, butt, I said butt, right?”

“Sure ya did, Aunt Kim.”

“That better be your story. Your mom already doesn’t trust me with you. She thinks I’m dangerous or some shit like tha…uh, crap! Yeah! Crap!”

“Well…” Sean’s voice trails off as he thinks about what his aunt just said. Kim notices his doubt and shoots him a look.

“Wait, a sec, you don’t think I’m dangerous DO YOU?”

“You did get us kicked out of the arcade, Aunt Kim.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault that stupid manager doesn’t have a sense of humor!”

“You were using Wasley to play the Whack-A-Mole Game.” Sean says, pointing to the penguin. “You destroyed the machine.”

“And I said I’d pay for it!” Kim says defensively. “Besides, those stupid moles were asking for it. Did you see how they were looking at me?!”

“Heh…” Sean chuckles softly before embracing his aunt “...I love you, Aunt Kim.”

“I love you too, kiddo.” She pats him on his head. “Now come on, there’s a drink machine up ahead. We can get some drinks before catching a taxi back home.” Sean nods his head and follows Kimberly towards the pepsi machine. She looks down at Sean. “Do you have any cash?”

“No.”

“Neither do I.” Kim shrugs and then uses Wasley, smacking him just hard enough not to damage the Pepsi Machine the way Sean accused her of damaging the Whack-A-Mole machine, but definitely hard enough to jar a drink loose and out of the machine. Kim does a pose reminiscent of Fonzie of Happy Days “Eyyyyy!”

“Eyyyy?” Sean asks curiously. Kim rolls her eyes.

“Before your time, kiddo.” She reaches inside and pulls out a Pepsi. “It’s a Pepsi, is that good?”

“Uh, I suppose it’ll do.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well it isn’t my favorite. But it’ll do…”

“Nonsense! Only the best for my nephew!” Kim smacks the machine again with Wasley, this time two drinks pop out. Kim’s face lights up. “Sweet! Two for one!” She reaches inside and produces another Pepsi and a Dr. Pepper. “Do you want a Dr. Pepper?”

“Sure!” He quickly snatches it out of Kim’s hand. Kim then turns and begins to walk away, she motions for Sean to follow her. Kim leads Sean over towards a bench on the sidewalk facing the street. Kim sits down on the bench and then Sean follows suit. “Hopefully a taxi will be along soon. I hate waiting!”

“Right. But uh, Aunt Kim, may I ask you something?”

“Sure thing, kiddo. Just don’t ask anything about algebra or calculus. I hate math.”

“Calculus?”

“Don’t ask. You’ll find out later.”

“Ok…but uh, seriously can I ask you a question?”

“Of course you can.”

“I know mom named me after my grandfather. And I know he and grandma didn’t always get along that well. Why is that?”

“Well, you can probably blame me and your mom for that.” Kim says snickering. “I mean, we didn’t exactly have the most normal of childhoods. Your grandfather and your grandmother, through no fault of their own, thought I was dead. They blamed each other for losing me so they split up. They only had your mom left in their lives. And they both wanted her to themselves. They fought bitterly over your mother.”

“But I have heard mom saying some things about him lately and I’m wondering, was my grandfather really as bad a person as mom says?”

Kimberly sighs deeply. This was a touchy subject that she really was hoping to avoid. Unfortunately kids his age are very curious and it appears that he has overheard some of what Marie has been saying about their father, Sean Williams and his potential involvement in the serial killings perpetrated by their uncle Douglas. Kimberly isn’t even used to dealing with kids of any age. Should she be direct and honest with him and tell him his grandfather was a monster like uncle Douglas? Or should she lie and let him live in blissful ignorance until he is old enough to understand?

“I don’t want to lie to you, kiddo, because quite honestly, I was lied to my entire life. And it made me into a very resentful and bitter person because of it; I don’t want to see that happen to you. So I’m not going to lie. But what you just asked is probably a question your mom can answer better than me. But I will tell you that your grandfather was a flawed man…but hell, we’re all flawed individuals. None of us are perfect. We will always make mistakes and when we do, the only thing we can do is strive to be better. I think your grandfather was trying his best to be a better man and to overcome the mistakes he may have made in life. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

“I think so.” Sean says, nodding his head.

“And just remember, your grandfather was not a bad man. He made mistakes but he did try to better himself. He tried to help people by becoming a police officer, before he died he started studying law because he wanted to help people who were unjustly found guilty of crimes they didn’t commit.”

“That’s cool, I guess.”

“It is.” Kim says nodding her head. “Your grandfather…my father…was a flawed man but at the end of his life he was a good man. You understand?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Kim pats him on his head. A smile creeps across her face and a warm feeling enters her heart. She feels good. She enjoys this time she is spending with her nephew. For a long time she never would have expected herself to be a family person, yet here she is enjoying this time with her nephew. She almost wishes this feeling would never end.

Unfortunately it is at this point that the feeling ends abruptly and violently. A loud shriek is heard from behind the pair. Kim feels a rope wrapping around her throat and it squeezes, cutting off her air and oxygen. Sean screams in terror as he jumps off the bench. He sees the figure of Carol Johnson choking the life out of his aunt.

“Aunt Kim!” Hearing this distracts Carol. She releases Kim and slowly begins to stalk the twelve year old. She points an accusatory finger at him.

“I cannot let another generation of Williams live!” Before she take another step towards Sean, Kim tackles Carol to the ground. Kim looks up to see Sean running off to make sure he is safe. Carol then kicks Kim off and tackles her back to the ground. Carol mounts Kim and begins to pound away with rapid fire right hands to the forehead and face.

“I told you, Williams! I told you that this would not end until one of us is dead!” Carol continues to pound away at Kim’s face but surprisingly, Kim just starts laughing uncontrollably. Carol growls angrily. “What is so damn funny?!” She punches her again. “Why are you laughing?!”

You need to hurt me in order to move on. Hell, you probably won’t move on unless me and my sister. But me…” Kim spits up some blood as she chuckles nastily “...I have moved on. I no longer care. So go ahead, Carol. Hit me!” Carol obliges and punches Kim in the face. “Oh come on, you can do better than that!” Carol hits her again. Kim snickers. “That’s better. Not good but better.” Carol punches her again. “HARDER! HIT ME HARDER!” Kim doesn’t have to ask twice, Carol hits her again. Kim just continues laughing uncontrollably and the more she laughs the angrier Carol gets. Carol gets up off of Kim and begins shouting.

“Why are you shouting?!” Carol stomps on Kim’s gut and Kim still laughs. Carol sets up for another stomp but then from out of nowhere several police officers swarm the area and point the firearms at Carol.

“Freeze!” One of the officers shouts. “Put your hands in the air!” Carol looks at the officers surrounding her. Then she looks back down at Kim who is slowly getting back to her feet and still laughing. Carol considers her options. “Don’t do something you will regret, lady!” Ultimately Carol does put her hands in the air, surrendering to the police. The police approach and begin to take her into custody.

Meanwhile Kim has pulled herself back to her feet. Sean quickly returns to her side. “Are you ok, Aunt Kim?”

“Don’t worry about me, kiddo, I was never in any danger.”

“Are you kidding me?! She was beating you up!”

“Her?!” Kim points to Carol, who by now has been handcuffed and is being stood up by the police. “Please. I recently took a dive off of a steel cage onto a pane of glass. I think I can take whatever that crazy broad has to offer. Besides…” she walks over to the bench and picks up Wasley the penguin “...I was never in any real danger.”

“Then why didn’t you use him against her?”

“Because she was threatening you, and taking care of you is more important than anything else. Also her family has suffered too much because of violence. I don’t need to add to that count by bludgeoning her with Wasley.” Kim pats Sean on the head. “You were brave to go get the police for me, kiddo.”

“Thanks, Aunt Kim.”

“This isn’t over!” Kim and Sean turn to see Carol being shoved into the back of the police cruiser. She is shouting angrily back at Kim. “It isn’t over!”

Kimberly’s heart tells her that she did the right thing, that letting the police handle it is the moral and just thing to do. It serves as a good example to her nephew. But her mind suggests that Carol is right, that this isn’t over. Kimberly’s mind tells her that at the end of this, one of them will have to die before it truly ends.

First for Syren for this week. Hopefully I get plenty of time to get a solid second done tomorrow, but with my sister visiting it's questionable how much time I'll be able to dedicate to it.

No promo in this one, just off-camera CD.

Enjoy.



The Syren Song: Verse 353
“A fresh start”