Today, 05:36 AM
2 of 2
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March 4th, 2026
Southampton, England
Off Camera
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The building stood along a quiet stretch of Southampton that had long since emptied for the night. During the day the surrounding streets carried a steady pulse of activity from nearby shops, offices, and the distant presence of the docks, but now the area had fallen into a heavy silence. A few streetlights cast pale circles of light onto the pavement outside, their glow reflected faintly in the tall industrial windows that lined the structure. Most of those windows were clouded with dust and age, the glass dull and slightly warped, as though the building itself had grown tired of watching the world pass by. Inside, the vast interior space felt hollow and cavernous. The ceiling stretched high above in a lattice of steel beams and exposed pipes that disappeared into shadow. Only a handful of lights were switched on, hanging from long cables and illuminating the center of the room while leaving the edges dim and uncertain. Their glow spilled downward in quiet cones of yellow light. In the middle of that stood the only thing occupying the enormous floor; a regulation size professional wrestling ring. The ring seemed almost surreal in its isolation, a structure designed for spectacle now resting silently in the emptiness. Its canvas was pulled tight and clean, pale under the lights. The ropes ran straight and firm between four corner posts wrapped in protective padding. The metal steps rested near one corner, their dull surface reflecting the overhead light in a faint shimmer. Beneath the ring apron, the shadowed space beneath looked deeper than it truly was, adding to the strange sense that the ring had been placed here as a deliberate focal point within the abandoned building.
Standing near the edge of the ring was Clyde Sutter. He wore dark clothing that blended naturally with the dim surroundings. A fitted black shirt stretched cleanly across his well built frame, the fabric simple but sharp in its cut. Over it he wore a long coat that hung open, its heavy material shifting slightly whenever he moved. The coat added a sense of presence to his silhouette, giving him a figure that seemed larger against the empty backdrop. His pants were dark and tailored without being overly formal, and his boots were solid and worn. The leather had dulled slightly from use but remained well cared for. His long black hair was pulled back neatly, keeping it away from his face and revealing the steady focus in his expression. A short distance away stood Lilith Sutter. Her black hair fell smoothly over her shoulders, the dark strands catching faint reflections from the overhead lights. She was dressed with the same refined precision that defined her in any setting. Her coat was long and tailored, crafted from rich fabric that held its shape perfectly as she moved. Beneath it she wore a sophisticated outfit that balanced strength and grace. The lines of her clothing were sharp and intentional, emphasizing poise rather than decoration. Her boots rose just above the ankle with a narrow heel that clicked softly against the concrete whenever she shifted her stance.
The vast building around them remained silent except for the occasional distant creak of metal settling somewhere in the structure. Outside, the quiet streets of Southampton continued their slow passage through the night. Inside, the wrestling ring waited beneath its lights like a stage prepared for something unseen.
As far as The Assassin goes? He is impatient.
“What are we doing here?” Clyde asks, his eyes scanning the area curiously.
“Don’t be daft. I am helping you, dear brother.” Lilith motions to the wrestling ring. “That, as you can plainly see, is a wrestling ring. I have provided it for you to use anytime you wish. You are a professional wrestler, and since you are not welcome at the Braddock Wrestling School, you may use this as a sanctuary for all of your wrestling needs.”
“It seems rather empty.” Clyde remarks flatly.
“For now, but that will change in time. This building had been used by my business partners as a hideout for a long time but now I am in the process of refurnishing it as your own personal gym. This wrestling ring is but the first piece of equipment for your use.”
“I am not interested.” He shakes his head.
“You have a Television Title match, do you not?” Lilith asks. “Colleen MacDonald. She has been on quite a roll, defeating her will be quite the task even for a monster like yourself, dear brother. I would think you would be grateful to use any resource at your disposal.”
“Nothing criminal.” The Assassin states bluntly. “And I am certain that this building was once used for your criminal exploits.”
“Bloody hell,” she rolls her eyes “for the last time my criminal enterprise is over. Yes, this building was once used as a hideout, but should I just let it sit here and rot simply because I am going straight? That seems to be quite the waste, don’t you agree? So I am refurnishing this place for your use. When you visit your native home of England, you now have a place to train and workout. You have a place this very night, or even tomorrow, to prepare for your championship match against Ms. MacDonald. It would make me very proud to see my own brother walk away as the new SCW Television Champion.”
“Perhaps I could make use of this facility, especially once more equipment is brought in.”
“You will have the very best of equipment, dear brother.” She insists. “Remember, working with me isn’t just about renewing our familial relationship as siblings, it is about providing you with a near limitless amount of resources, far more resources than you currently have access to.”
“Speaking of family, that brings me back to the original question,” he turns his icy glare away from the ring and back onto his sister “what are we doing here? You said we were going to discuss our father.”
“Ah yes, him.” Lilith says.
“You agreed to tell me everything you know about him if I agreed to continue working with you.” Clyde answers. “That was the deal.”
“And I intend to honor that deal in every sense of the word, including providing you with the resources I promised you.”
“I do not give a damn about the resources. I just want to know about my past. I have heard nothing but rumor and innuendo. Much of which were contradictory. You have dropped seeds and kernels of truth, but I want it all. I am sick and tired of the crypticness, sister. I demand the truth.”
“As I explained yesterday at dinner, if I told you everything I know right now, then you would leave me alone and our partnership…more importantly our familial bond…would be severed once more.” She grins knowingly. “I am going to drag this out as long as possible because I want something out of this too. I want a relationship with my brother.”
“You know nothing about me.”
“Precisely but I do know enough that if I were to tell you everything now you would run away.” She states coldly. “You will learn the truth but on my time. On my schedule. If that is ok with you?”
The Assassin glares angrily into his sister’s eyes. He slowly nods his head.
“It is not ok…but I suppose I have no choice.”
“You are a smart boy.” She chuckles. “You know, dear brother, professional wrestling is similar to ritual combat. In some cultures warriors would fight over inheritance and leadership of the tribe. Tribal combat. They believed that the gods smiled down upon the victorious warrior, that it had always predestined who would survive the tribal combat.”
“I assume this rambling has a point?” Clyde asks.
“The fans who pack the arenas week in and week out, the fans will be in attendance to watch you challenge Colleen MacDonald for the SCW Television Title, all of them are very much like those ancient cultures. You against Colleen is very much like ritual combat. Except leadership or an inheritance isn’t on the line, a championship is on the line. And the fans, much like the tribes, they all believe in the same thing…that fate has decided its outcome already. They likely believe that somehow someway Colleen will overcome your strength and overwhelming power. They may not call it fate but they recognize fate.”
“They are wrong.” He states. “No one can know the will of Fate. Not even me. What I can control is what I do when I step through those ropes. And if Fate is on my side then I will leave Ms. MacDonald lying in a bloody heap and I will leave as the new SCW Television Champion regardless of what the fans believe.”
“You sound like our father.” Lilith says. That really got Clyde’s attention.
What did you say?”
“Our father believed violence revealed truth. Do you believe that, brother?”
“I believe that Fate chooses my victims.” He states. “Is Colleen MacDonald just another victim of Fate’s cruel hand? Perhaps. That remains to be seen. Both myself and Ms. MacDonald are but pawns in its game and only one of us will walk away with the prize. Yes, violence will ultimately be a factor in deciding this…but Fate has made its choice. This is what I believe.”
“You and our father were on the same page, dear brother.”
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March 5th, 2026
Southampton, England
On Camera
==========
By the following evening the building in Southampton looked exactly as it had the night before, silent and cavernous beneath the high ceiling of steel beams and shadowed rafters. Inside, the emptiness of the place felt even more pronounced. The vast floor stretched outward in every direction, a wide plain of worn concrete that carried the echoes of every step. The air was cool and still, holding the faint scent of metal and dust that clung to the walls of old industrial buildings. Sound traveled easily here. Even the quiet shift of fabric or the subtle scrape of a shoe against the ground seemed to linger longer than it should before fading into silence. At the center of the building, beneath a cluster of lights suspended high above, the professional wrestling ring stood exactly where it had been placed. It remained the only structure in the enormous interior. The pale canvas looked almost luminous against the darker concrete floor, and the ropes stretched clean and straight between the padded posts at each corner. The ring seemed strangely dignified in its solitude, like a stage waiting patiently for a story to unfold upon it.
Standing near the apron of the ring was Clyde Sutter. He was dressed with a quiet elegance that contrasted sharply with the rough emptiness of the building around him. His suit was tailored with precise craftsmanship, the dark fabric fitting cleanly across his shoulders and chest before falling neatly along his frame. Beneath the jacket, a crisp shirt sat perfectly pressed, the collar sharp and immaculate. The simplicity of the clothing only emphasized the quality of it, every seam and line shaped to complement his build. His long black hair had been pulled back carefully, leaving his face unobstructed. The style suited the composed intensity he carried. Polished shoes rested firmly against the concrete floor, their dark leather reflecting a faint glimmer of the overhead light.
Beside him stood Melinda Braddock. She wore a refined dress that moved gracefully with even the smallest motion. The fabric fell smoothly along her figure, the design both sophisticated and unmistakably feminine. The color caught the light gently, creating subtle variations that shifted whenever she turned slightly. The dress had been chosen with care. Its neckline framed her shoulders with understated elegance, while the length allowed it to flow naturally as she walked across the concrete floor. Her shoes added just enough height to emphasize her poised posture, their polished finish reflecting the faint glow around the ring. Her almost platinum blonde hair had been styled neatly, falling in soft waves.
“Having been born and raised in this business, in the greatest wrestling dynasty of them all, the Braddock family, I learned real quickly from watching my grandfather, ‘Britain’s Best’ Glenn Braddock, and all of his fellow wrestlers that some were destined for greatness, some had the ability to break through the glass ceiling and do anything and everything they wanted, while others seemed doomed to be caught in a niche…” she shrugs her shoulders “...maybe they wanted a singles career but just couldn’t escape tag team wrestling? Perhaps they started as a hardcore junkie and despite trying to prove everyone that there was more layers to them than that, they could not escape being pigeonholed as a garbage wrestler? For the longest time I thought it had to with talent…or in some cases, a lack thereof.” She looks over at her man and smiles warmly before turning back to the camera.
“Now I know better. Now I know it is Fate. Fate determines what tier you belong…main event, mid-card, curtain jerker. Fate determines where you belong…singles, tag team, hardcore. Fate pigeonholes you and you cannot escape it. Your only hope is that Fate smiles upon you and that you are blessed with Fate’s gift of that one singular opportunity to break out and make a name for yourself.” Braddock points a finger at the camera. “Colleen MacDonald, you entered Supreme Championship Wrestling pigeonholed as Polly’s sidekick. Her lackey. You were pigeonholed and no one even knew your damn name. You were just one of those girls who ran around with Polly Playtime. But Fate smiled upon you, didn’t it? Fate blessed with you the gift of an opportunity to break through the glass ceiling and make a name for yourself. Thanks to the opportunity Fate handed you, you became Underground Champion. Your wars with Kimberly Williams will not soon be forgotten in SCW lore. I am impressed. So is Clyde. Now you are the SCW Television Champion. Quite an accomplishment for someone who was once just a lackey. Just a sidekick.” The Third Generation Goddess snickers.
“But what Fate gives…Fate can and will take away.” Melinda looks to Clyde, who now steps forward preparing to speak.
“What Fate gives, Fate can take away. Just ask Selena Frost. She was once the most beloved wrestler in this company, she was once the world champion, now everyone hates her and she is forced into an undesirable partnership with Xander Valentine. Ask Light in the Darkness, once the hottest and most successful tag team in SCW, but now only ONE HALF of them is successful and the other half is, shall we say, sliding into irrelevancy. Ask CHBK, once had full reign to run the booking of Breakdown exactly as he saw fit, but now he has to share that power with a CEO with a far different vision of the future of the promotion.” The Harbinger of Fate chuckles softly.
“My beloved is quite right to sing your praises, Ms. MacDonald. You have done quite well for yourself since shedding the skin of a playgirl, since ridding yourself of the identity of just a mere lackey. You are a former SCW Underground Champion and current SCW Television Champion. Make no mistake, Ms. MacDonald, your breakthrough and success were as a result of an opportunity that Fate gifted you. But your time of riding high upon the wave of success has come to a bitter end. As a matter of fact, the end of your tremendous run has already begun, you either haven’t realized it yet or you are in denial of the reality of the grim situation you find yourself in.”
“You broke through by winning the Underground Title and surviving challenge after challenge, including that of Kimberly Williams herself, but then you ran into The Monster Machine Enigma. You LOST the championship that propelled you into singles stardom. Despite your best efforts you could not overcome him. But what is sad, Ms. MacDonald, is that you gave up trying to defeat him yourself and you HANDPICKED an opponent, a warrior to defeat him for you. You chose Xander Valentine to slay the beast you could not slay on your own.”
“Pathetic.” Melinda says with a smirk on her face.
“So what do I see when I look at you standing across the ring from me as the reigning SCW Television Champion? Do I see that same fierce Colleen MacDonald who broke through into singles success?” Sutter pauses to let the question sink in before he shakes his head. “No; instead, I see a woman who gave up and has settled for something else. I see a woman who either realizes that her star is starting to fizzle out and she is using the Television Title to hide the fact that her run is over…or I see a woman who is trying to convince herself that she is still relevant, that Fate is still on her side.” The Assassin shakes his head.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Ms. MacDonald, but your star is fizzling out. Fate is no longer on your side. Your end is near. You have put up a valiant effort in defending the Television Title, the workhorse championship of this promotion, but you are running on fumes and luck and your luck is about to run out, the gas in your tank is running out. Now you are preparing to stare Fate’s Chosen Assassin eye eye, you are being tasked with defending your championship against me, against The Assassin, and as much as I admire your story of fighting and clawing your way to the top, I will not hesitate to pull the trigger and kill your fairy tale run once and for all. I will not hesitate to knock your head off and claim that SCW Television Championship for myself,” he looks down at Melinda and smiles “for my beloved…”
“...and for Fate. You see, Ms. MacDonald, unlike you and the rest of the locker room, I recognize what brought me to the dance. I understand that I am here because Fate brought me here and I proudly do its will. You have prancing around winning championships, carrying yourself as a warrior acting as if you did it all on your own, not recognizing the role that Fate played. But Fate always collects its debts that it is owed and on Breakdown I will take the SCW Television as payment. So enjoy the remaining few days you have with that championship. Enjoy your remaining few days of the cheers from the fans. Enjoy the spotlight while you still can. It all comes to an end on Breakdown because your Fate is sealed.”
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March 4th, 2026
Southampton, England
Off Camera
==========
The building stood along a quiet stretch of Southampton that had long since emptied for the night. During the day the surrounding streets carried a steady pulse of activity from nearby shops, offices, and the distant presence of the docks, but now the area had fallen into a heavy silence. A few streetlights cast pale circles of light onto the pavement outside, their glow reflected faintly in the tall industrial windows that lined the structure. Most of those windows were clouded with dust and age, the glass dull and slightly warped, as though the building itself had grown tired of watching the world pass by. Inside, the vast interior space felt hollow and cavernous. The ceiling stretched high above in a lattice of steel beams and exposed pipes that disappeared into shadow. Only a handful of lights were switched on, hanging from long cables and illuminating the center of the room while leaving the edges dim and uncertain. Their glow spilled downward in quiet cones of yellow light. In the middle of that stood the only thing occupying the enormous floor; a regulation size professional wrestling ring. The ring seemed almost surreal in its isolation, a structure designed for spectacle now resting silently in the emptiness. Its canvas was pulled tight and clean, pale under the lights. The ropes ran straight and firm between four corner posts wrapped in protective padding. The metal steps rested near one corner, their dull surface reflecting the overhead light in a faint shimmer. Beneath the ring apron, the shadowed space beneath looked deeper than it truly was, adding to the strange sense that the ring had been placed here as a deliberate focal point within the abandoned building.
Standing near the edge of the ring was Clyde Sutter. He wore dark clothing that blended naturally with the dim surroundings. A fitted black shirt stretched cleanly across his well built frame, the fabric simple but sharp in its cut. Over it he wore a long coat that hung open, its heavy material shifting slightly whenever he moved. The coat added a sense of presence to his silhouette, giving him a figure that seemed larger against the empty backdrop. His pants were dark and tailored without being overly formal, and his boots were solid and worn. The leather had dulled slightly from use but remained well cared for. His long black hair was pulled back neatly, keeping it away from his face and revealing the steady focus in his expression. A short distance away stood Lilith Sutter. Her black hair fell smoothly over her shoulders, the dark strands catching faint reflections from the overhead lights. She was dressed with the same refined precision that defined her in any setting. Her coat was long and tailored, crafted from rich fabric that held its shape perfectly as she moved. Beneath it she wore a sophisticated outfit that balanced strength and grace. The lines of her clothing were sharp and intentional, emphasizing poise rather than decoration. Her boots rose just above the ankle with a narrow heel that clicked softly against the concrete whenever she shifted her stance.
The vast building around them remained silent except for the occasional distant creak of metal settling somewhere in the structure. Outside, the quiet streets of Southampton continued their slow passage through the night. Inside, the wrestling ring waited beneath its lights like a stage prepared for something unseen.
As far as The Assassin goes? He is impatient.
“What are we doing here?” Clyde asks, his eyes scanning the area curiously.
“Don’t be daft. I am helping you, dear brother.” Lilith motions to the wrestling ring. “That, as you can plainly see, is a wrestling ring. I have provided it for you to use anytime you wish. You are a professional wrestler, and since you are not welcome at the Braddock Wrestling School, you may use this as a sanctuary for all of your wrestling needs.”
“It seems rather empty.” Clyde remarks flatly.
“For now, but that will change in time. This building had been used by my business partners as a hideout for a long time but now I am in the process of refurnishing it as your own personal gym. This wrestling ring is but the first piece of equipment for your use.”
“I am not interested.” He shakes his head.
“You have a Television Title match, do you not?” Lilith asks. “Colleen MacDonald. She has been on quite a roll, defeating her will be quite the task even for a monster like yourself, dear brother. I would think you would be grateful to use any resource at your disposal.”
“Nothing criminal.” The Assassin states bluntly. “And I am certain that this building was once used for your criminal exploits.”
“Bloody hell,” she rolls her eyes “for the last time my criminal enterprise is over. Yes, this building was once used as a hideout, but should I just let it sit here and rot simply because I am going straight? That seems to be quite the waste, don’t you agree? So I am refurnishing this place for your use. When you visit your native home of England, you now have a place to train and workout. You have a place this very night, or even tomorrow, to prepare for your championship match against Ms. MacDonald. It would make me very proud to see my own brother walk away as the new SCW Television Champion.”
“Perhaps I could make use of this facility, especially once more equipment is brought in.”
“You will have the very best of equipment, dear brother.” She insists. “Remember, working with me isn’t just about renewing our familial relationship as siblings, it is about providing you with a near limitless amount of resources, far more resources than you currently have access to.”
“Speaking of family, that brings me back to the original question,” he turns his icy glare away from the ring and back onto his sister “what are we doing here? You said we were going to discuss our father.”
“Ah yes, him.” Lilith says.
“You agreed to tell me everything you know about him if I agreed to continue working with you.” Clyde answers. “That was the deal.”
“And I intend to honor that deal in every sense of the word, including providing you with the resources I promised you.”
“I do not give a damn about the resources. I just want to know about my past. I have heard nothing but rumor and innuendo. Much of which were contradictory. You have dropped seeds and kernels of truth, but I want it all. I am sick and tired of the crypticness, sister. I demand the truth.”
“As I explained yesterday at dinner, if I told you everything I know right now, then you would leave me alone and our partnership…more importantly our familial bond…would be severed once more.” She grins knowingly. “I am going to drag this out as long as possible because I want something out of this too. I want a relationship with my brother.”
“You know nothing about me.”
“Precisely but I do know enough that if I were to tell you everything now you would run away.” She states coldly. “You will learn the truth but on my time. On my schedule. If that is ok with you?”
The Assassin glares angrily into his sister’s eyes. He slowly nods his head.
“It is not ok…but I suppose I have no choice.”
“You are a smart boy.” She chuckles. “You know, dear brother, professional wrestling is similar to ritual combat. In some cultures warriors would fight over inheritance and leadership of the tribe. Tribal combat. They believed that the gods smiled down upon the victorious warrior, that it had always predestined who would survive the tribal combat.”
“I assume this rambling has a point?” Clyde asks.
“The fans who pack the arenas week in and week out, the fans will be in attendance to watch you challenge Colleen MacDonald for the SCW Television Title, all of them are very much like those ancient cultures. You against Colleen is very much like ritual combat. Except leadership or an inheritance isn’t on the line, a championship is on the line. And the fans, much like the tribes, they all believe in the same thing…that fate has decided its outcome already. They likely believe that somehow someway Colleen will overcome your strength and overwhelming power. They may not call it fate but they recognize fate.”
“They are wrong.” He states. “No one can know the will of Fate. Not even me. What I can control is what I do when I step through those ropes. And if Fate is on my side then I will leave Ms. MacDonald lying in a bloody heap and I will leave as the new SCW Television Champion regardless of what the fans believe.”
“You sound like our father.” Lilith says. That really got Clyde’s attention.
What did you say?”
“Our father believed violence revealed truth. Do you believe that, brother?”
“I believe that Fate chooses my victims.” He states. “Is Colleen MacDonald just another victim of Fate’s cruel hand? Perhaps. That remains to be seen. Both myself and Ms. MacDonald are but pawns in its game and only one of us will walk away with the prize. Yes, violence will ultimately be a factor in deciding this…but Fate has made its choice. This is what I believe.”
“You and our father were on the same page, dear brother.”
==========
March 5th, 2026
Southampton, England
On Camera
==========
By the following evening the building in Southampton looked exactly as it had the night before, silent and cavernous beneath the high ceiling of steel beams and shadowed rafters. Inside, the emptiness of the place felt even more pronounced. The vast floor stretched outward in every direction, a wide plain of worn concrete that carried the echoes of every step. The air was cool and still, holding the faint scent of metal and dust that clung to the walls of old industrial buildings. Sound traveled easily here. Even the quiet shift of fabric or the subtle scrape of a shoe against the ground seemed to linger longer than it should before fading into silence. At the center of the building, beneath a cluster of lights suspended high above, the professional wrestling ring stood exactly where it had been placed. It remained the only structure in the enormous interior. The pale canvas looked almost luminous against the darker concrete floor, and the ropes stretched clean and straight between the padded posts at each corner. The ring seemed strangely dignified in its solitude, like a stage waiting patiently for a story to unfold upon it.
Standing near the apron of the ring was Clyde Sutter. He was dressed with a quiet elegance that contrasted sharply with the rough emptiness of the building around him. His suit was tailored with precise craftsmanship, the dark fabric fitting cleanly across his shoulders and chest before falling neatly along his frame. Beneath the jacket, a crisp shirt sat perfectly pressed, the collar sharp and immaculate. The simplicity of the clothing only emphasized the quality of it, every seam and line shaped to complement his build. His long black hair had been pulled back carefully, leaving his face unobstructed. The style suited the composed intensity he carried. Polished shoes rested firmly against the concrete floor, their dark leather reflecting a faint glimmer of the overhead light.
Beside him stood Melinda Braddock. She wore a refined dress that moved gracefully with even the smallest motion. The fabric fell smoothly along her figure, the design both sophisticated and unmistakably feminine. The color caught the light gently, creating subtle variations that shifted whenever she turned slightly. The dress had been chosen with care. Its neckline framed her shoulders with understated elegance, while the length allowed it to flow naturally as she walked across the concrete floor. Her shoes added just enough height to emphasize her poised posture, their polished finish reflecting the faint glow around the ring. Her almost platinum blonde hair had been styled neatly, falling in soft waves.
“Having been born and raised in this business, in the greatest wrestling dynasty of them all, the Braddock family, I learned real quickly from watching my grandfather, ‘Britain’s Best’ Glenn Braddock, and all of his fellow wrestlers that some were destined for greatness, some had the ability to break through the glass ceiling and do anything and everything they wanted, while others seemed doomed to be caught in a niche…” she shrugs her shoulders “...maybe they wanted a singles career but just couldn’t escape tag team wrestling? Perhaps they started as a hardcore junkie and despite trying to prove everyone that there was more layers to them than that, they could not escape being pigeonholed as a garbage wrestler? For the longest time I thought it had to with talent…or in some cases, a lack thereof.” She looks over at her man and smiles warmly before turning back to the camera.
“Now I know better. Now I know it is Fate. Fate determines what tier you belong…main event, mid-card, curtain jerker. Fate determines where you belong…singles, tag team, hardcore. Fate pigeonholes you and you cannot escape it. Your only hope is that Fate smiles upon you and that you are blessed with Fate’s gift of that one singular opportunity to break out and make a name for yourself.” Braddock points a finger at the camera. “Colleen MacDonald, you entered Supreme Championship Wrestling pigeonholed as Polly’s sidekick. Her lackey. You were pigeonholed and no one even knew your damn name. You were just one of those girls who ran around with Polly Playtime. But Fate smiled upon you, didn’t it? Fate blessed with you the gift of an opportunity to break through the glass ceiling and make a name for yourself. Thanks to the opportunity Fate handed you, you became Underground Champion. Your wars with Kimberly Williams will not soon be forgotten in SCW lore. I am impressed. So is Clyde. Now you are the SCW Television Champion. Quite an accomplishment for someone who was once just a lackey. Just a sidekick.” The Third Generation Goddess snickers.
“But what Fate gives…Fate can and will take away.” Melinda looks to Clyde, who now steps forward preparing to speak.
“What Fate gives, Fate can take away. Just ask Selena Frost. She was once the most beloved wrestler in this company, she was once the world champion, now everyone hates her and she is forced into an undesirable partnership with Xander Valentine. Ask Light in the Darkness, once the hottest and most successful tag team in SCW, but now only ONE HALF of them is successful and the other half is, shall we say, sliding into irrelevancy. Ask CHBK, once had full reign to run the booking of Breakdown exactly as he saw fit, but now he has to share that power with a CEO with a far different vision of the future of the promotion.” The Harbinger of Fate chuckles softly.
“My beloved is quite right to sing your praises, Ms. MacDonald. You have done quite well for yourself since shedding the skin of a playgirl, since ridding yourself of the identity of just a mere lackey. You are a former SCW Underground Champion and current SCW Television Champion. Make no mistake, Ms. MacDonald, your breakthrough and success were as a result of an opportunity that Fate gifted you. But your time of riding high upon the wave of success has come to a bitter end. As a matter of fact, the end of your tremendous run has already begun, you either haven’t realized it yet or you are in denial of the reality of the grim situation you find yourself in.”
“You broke through by winning the Underground Title and surviving challenge after challenge, including that of Kimberly Williams herself, but then you ran into The Monster Machine Enigma. You LOST the championship that propelled you into singles stardom. Despite your best efforts you could not overcome him. But what is sad, Ms. MacDonald, is that you gave up trying to defeat him yourself and you HANDPICKED an opponent, a warrior to defeat him for you. You chose Xander Valentine to slay the beast you could not slay on your own.”
“Pathetic.” Melinda says with a smirk on her face.
“So what do I see when I look at you standing across the ring from me as the reigning SCW Television Champion? Do I see that same fierce Colleen MacDonald who broke through into singles success?” Sutter pauses to let the question sink in before he shakes his head. “No; instead, I see a woman who gave up and has settled for something else. I see a woman who either realizes that her star is starting to fizzle out and she is using the Television Title to hide the fact that her run is over…or I see a woman who is trying to convince herself that she is still relevant, that Fate is still on her side.” The Assassin shakes his head.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Ms. MacDonald, but your star is fizzling out. Fate is no longer on your side. Your end is near. You have put up a valiant effort in defending the Television Title, the workhorse championship of this promotion, but you are running on fumes and luck and your luck is about to run out, the gas in your tank is running out. Now you are preparing to stare Fate’s Chosen Assassin eye eye, you are being tasked with defending your championship against me, against The Assassin, and as much as I admire your story of fighting and clawing your way to the top, I will not hesitate to pull the trigger and kill your fairy tale run once and for all. I will not hesitate to knock your head off and claim that SCW Television Championship for myself,” he looks down at Melinda and smiles “for my beloved…”
“...and for Fate. You see, Ms. MacDonald, unlike you and the rest of the locker room, I recognize what brought me to the dance. I understand that I am here because Fate brought me here and I proudly do its will. You have prancing around winning championships, carrying yourself as a warrior acting as if you did it all on your own, not recognizing the role that Fate played. But Fate always collects its debts that it is owed and on Breakdown I will take the SCW Television as payment. So enjoy the remaining few days you have with that championship. Enjoy your remaining few days of the cheers from the fans. Enjoy the spotlight while you still can. It all comes to an end on Breakdown because your Fate is sealed.”
![[Image: XJiTNy0.png]](https://i.imgur.com/XJiTNy0.png)
Career Achievements
MWE Television Champion 2x
MWE Riot Champion 1x
GCW World Tag Team Champion 1x
SCW Television Champion 1x
MWA World Tag Team Champion 2x