David Helms, Owen Cruze & Blake Mason vs. Syren, Ravyn Taylor & Christy Matthews

[Konrad Raab]

3 RP limit for six person tag

Deadline: 11:59:59 pm ET Tuesday, March 3, 2020

[BME]

After the night he experienced, Blake Mason needed a shower....


He stood naked in the shower eyes closed, allowing the hot water to wash over him. 


Standing in the shower wasn’t about cleaning himself off in the traditional sense. He needed a moment to himself after the drama he was apart of earlier in the night. As long as he has known Kelcey Wallace, she hosted a Halloween Party, it was supposed to be the one night a year where everyone in the wrestling community would put aside their differences aside, tolerate each other, show that they could all get along. He hoped Bree Lancaster would stay true to her word about not showing up, he was made aware of a tweet she posted to that effect. He knew that was too good to be true. Sienna would convince her to come, he wasn’t shocked she showed up. Bree and Sienna were besties. Joined at the hip. At first it didn’t bother him, bonded by surviving a plane crash. These days? Made him physically ill. There sisterhood wasn’t what bothered him tonight. 


Chris Cannon did.


While Sienna and Taylor were having an argument, Chris took it upon himself to shove Blake to the floor. His first instinct was to tackle him to the ground. Taylor was the only reason he didn’t attempt to put Chris in the hospital. He knows if Taylor didn’t stop him, his friends would have. Any real threat to Chris well being was non existent. He knew that Chris Cannon knew that, being the snake Blake always perceived him to be.  Blake was glad Sienna and company decided to leave. Meant he could get a moment of peace.    


Hopefully the shower would give him some semblance of salvation. 


As he turned the water off, he knew it wasn’t enough. 


He stepped out the shower, grabbed a thick blue towel, dried himself off. Dropping the towel on the floor, there was no point walking out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around his waist. He walked into his and Taylor Chase’s bedroom. He stood at the door admiring the woman who will become his wife. She was wearing a sky blue nightie. Done admiring, he walks over to the bed, slipping under the cover he cozies up next to her. 



Blake coily says; “That was... eventful.”



Taylor replied back, “Yeah... so much for a drama free night!”



“I don’t remember the last time these parties didn’t erupt in some kinda of drama. I’m usually in the midst of it.” 



“I should have let you drop, Chris!” Taylor smirks. 


“Yeah... you kinda should have.” Blake laughed it off. Deep down he knew Taylor preventing him from caving Chris skull in was the right thing. “Knowing those jackasses, Chris and Sienna would have tried to get the law on their side. Used tonight to paint the picture to their sycophants they are the victims of circumstance. For The People my ass. Should have never allowed them through the front door. Doubt Kelcey would be proud of how everything transpired tonight.”



“Come on, it wasn’t that bad.” Taylor leans in and kisses him. “Mostly everyone enjoyed themselves, that’s a plus. No one went to jail. Silver Lining?”


“The REAL victory is sleeping next to you.” Blake didn’t want to talk about the night any longer, the more he dwelled on things the angrier he was going to get. The one thing he promised himself was never to go to bed angry. He leaned in, kissed Taylor. By the way Taylor pinned him down on the bed, she didn’t want to talk either...   


   
--




The next day Blake Mason finds himself in a shooting booth inside the Reed’s Indoor Range located in the Malibu, California area. He looks down at the Glock that is waiting for him to use. Grabbing the gun, he takes a moment to feel the power of a gun others have used to slay men, women and children since it was birthed into existence from someones imagination. He has never been a huge fan of firearms, the luxurious lifestyle he has led since the day he was born has afforded him privileges the bottom 95% of the world can’t fathom. His father hired the best security, when he went out into the world on his own accord Blake made it a point to hire anyone who would protect him from the dangers no amount of money can shield any person from completely. Today is different. The gun he grips in his hand isn’t a tool he aims to use for protection, the opposite, he has dark thoughts of execution.


Blake picks up the gun. With a firm grip he points the Glock at the target off into the distance, in shooting ranges, there is a generic paper sheet to use as target practice. He made one modification to the target inside his own mind, he is smart enough to know having a literal paper sheet with Chris Cannon’s likeness would raise suspicion should the day come that anything actually happened to the object of his current anger.   


Blake pulled the trigger. A loud echo reverberates inside the shooting range. His first shot pierces the spot where Chris Cannon’s heart would be in real life. He doesn’t take a moment to savor his own pinpoint accuracy. Another shot pierces “Chris Cannon’s” forehead. The third shot pierces his left arm. Another in the right arm. The remaining rounds coming from the gun all going straight through his heart. With the mission accomplished, Blake sets the gun down. He takes off the headphone shielding his ears from the loud sound his shots were making. 


Blake should admire his handiwork. His pinpoint accuracy was quite impressive. He cares none for how accurate he is, with a sigh he puts the gun down, turns his back on the paper sheet. Closing his eyes the only thought that consumes his mind is, he wishes the paper sheet was actually Chris Cannon. Reopening his eyes he isn’t thrown off by what he sees in front of him. Sitting on top of a table with a box full of bullets is MARY BETH MALLORY. Wearing a devilishly red dress, her legs are crossed. Her black hair is flowing eloquently down her back. Tilting her head to the side she offers Blake a coy smirk. “We both know that isn’t going to solve your problems, William.”


Blake crosses his arms.  “Got a better suggestion, Mary?”


Mary casually slides off the table. She takes her time walking over to Blake. Placing her hands on her hips, she looks up into his eyes. “Stop denying who you really are. Take the actions necessary to show he can’t get away with messing up your life.”


Blake sighs. “Kayla doesn’t deserve to live with the burden of her father being a murderer.”


Mary intensifies her gaze. “Attempted murder is much better?”



Blake can’t deny Mary’s assessment, he did try to kill Chris Cannon what feels like a lifetime ago. According to Blake he tried to send Chris a message not to mess with Kelcey, the funny thing about running someone over, intent doesn’t matter, the day Blake ran over Chris he had no way of knowing his alleged friend would survive the premeditated assault. What happened that day was no accident. 


“Dad did warn me about the 15th law of Power, always crush your enemies totally. If he died that day my life would be different. Much different.”



Blake turns back around, he grabs the gun. Walking back to the table he is going to reload his gun. Mary follows him. She reclaims the spot she was occupying. He pays her no mind. 


“For a short while, yes. You always cared about Kelcey too much to keep a secret like that from her. Then where would you have been? Possibly behind bars! No one would have forgiven you. There are ways to crush your enemies without murdering them.”


Blake scoffs. “You are one to talk, Mallory. I bet there is a murder or two you haven’t told a soul about.” 


“Maybe. Maybe not. The world will never know.” 


“I need to purge this anger out of my system, somehow.” He opens the chamber. “Chris shoving me on my ass last night was humiliating. What a piece of shit! He claims to be a good guy, this Superman, I’m just grateful most of the people he fooled over the years finally see him the way I do. That’s not enough. I wish he didn’t exist at all. And--” 


He reloads the gun. “I can’t go on like this, Mary. Unless you have any viable suggestions; please, leave me in peace.”


“As a matter of fact--” Mary taps her chin. “I do have one piece of advice. You're not going to like it.”


Resetting the chamber, Blake looks dead into Mary’s eyes. “When has that ever stopped you from doing anything?”



Mary kisses him on the cheek. “See. Perfect pairing.”



Blake raises his eyebrow. “Don’t push it!”



Mary crosses her arms into her chest. “Or what? You need me. You’ve always have. Now more than ever.”


Blake slams the Glock down on the table. He can’t tolerate Mary Beth Mallory chirping back at him anymore. She was right, he wasn’t going to cross his own personal Devil. He did the only thing he could, make a beeline for the door. Opening it, he paid no mind to anyone as he stormed out of the Reed Indoor Range. Storming into the parking lot he finds his car, he didn’t notice Mary wasn’t too far behind him. Opening the drivers side door to his Toyota Rav 4, he quickly gets inside. What he didn’t notice was Mary sliding into the passenger side. He sensed her presence. He didn’t bother to look at her. Blake was worked up enough as it was. 


“You can’t escape the truth for long. Stop running.” Mary soothly told him. 


Blake looks out into the parking lot, scanning to see if anyone is bothering to notice what is going on in his section of the universe. He gives his attention to a stone faced Mary Beth Mallory. Her coldness was comforting to him once when they kick started their partnership back in 2013. Her chilling red eyed gaze doesn’t fill him with the same butterflies it used to. 


“I can’t turn my back on the progress I made. I am getting married to the woman of my dreams; Taylor Chase is a Godsend. Kayla is living with me. Hell, me and Shaun Cruze are business partners, who would have imagined that three years ago when we were kicking the crap out of each other. Me and Amy [Chastaine] made up. I can’t ask for anything more. Sure, it gets irritating the Sienna and Chris of the world continue to do things to push my buttons. Life isn’t designed to be easy, I can’t revert back to the way I used to be whenever life becomes a burden. No. I am going to stay the course, releasing my stress in the gun range is the ultimate cure all. I don’t need your help this time around for managing my impulses.”


Mary placed her hand on Blake’s right knee. He shifted his attention to her. Her touch was enough to unsettle him. It further gave him the chills to notice she wasn’t looking directly at him. Her attention was fixated on the front of the indoor range. Mary shifted her eye contact to him. Same cold chilling demeanor. Absence of a smile. No trace of a soul hidden behind the red eyes.     



“Who are you trying to convince?” she flatley asked.



Blake removes Mary’s hand from his leg “Don’t touch me.”



“Don’t act like you don’t want to recreate that night in the confessional.”



“I don’t.” Blake unequivocally said. He didn’t need to be reminded of the night that robbed him of a life with Kelcey Wallace. Wasn’t aware Mary had videotaped their thrist, didn’t plan on there thrist finding its way to Kelcey. No denying his actions led to a falling out between them, years later Blake convinced himself he was on a ticking clock, choir boy Chris Cannon would always be the love of her life. Likely would have happened whether it was by his recklessness or not. He stands firm by his point he didn’t want another go around with Mary. What he has with Taylor Chase is exactly what he needs. 



Not respecting his boundaries, Mary rest her hand back on his knee. He thought about protesting. Figured why bother. Let The Devil speak. Say what she came to say, that might be enough for his own personal devil to go along her merry way. One can hope. 


“Society is content subscribing to duality. Good and bad. Light and dark. The world isn’t as black and white as people would have you believe. Walking away from wrestling wasn’t the solution to your problems, William. You will always be your own worst enemy. Living a nice suburban life I am shocked has been enough to keep you at bay. There’s unfinished business, you can’t allow your career to end giving Chris Cannon the pleasure of believing he ran from the sport. The answer isn’t to shoot at lifeless targets. The answer isn’t to go out in the woods, kill a deer, hoping you can stave off what you believe are your inner demons. We are at our happiest living our real selves. Repression is not the key to salvation.”



Blake raised an eyebrow, astonished by what he heard. “Now, you are scaring me. Never imagined the Red Devil becoming the spiritual type.” 




“Resolve your two halves, William, that’s the only way to find true peace.”    



“I appreciate the pep talk. I’m heading home. The last thing Taylor needs to see is you of all people sitting in the passenger seat of my car. To show you I am not a complete jerk I’ll drop you off wherever you want. How did you know I was here by the way?”  



Mary leans in. She whispers softly into his ear. “The Devil is always watching, William. You haven’t seen the last of me.” 


And just like that Mary Beth Mallory dematerializes in front of his eyes. She was merely a projection of his own subsconscious the entire time. But why The Red Devil of all people? 


No matter. He needed to head home. 


There is no place like home...


==

< PROMO TIME >

The scene opens inside of a luxurious private jet. William ‘Blake’ Mason, who is wearing a grey double breasted suit with a crimson red tie, is leaning back in his black lounge chair. His right leg is crossed across his left knee. His cupped hands are resting firmly on his lap.


“To the thousands of people watching wherever you are, WELCOME... to the Blake. Mason. Experience.”


Blake pauses to savor the moment. This is his first promotional video in over a year. No one can blame him for taking a moment to smell the roses.




“Tomorrow night is NOT about me. What transpired backstage during Peyton’s match was Ravyn Taylor was vintage Infamous. We were led to believe that Syren picked up her ball and went home, pissed off about her alleged mistreatment by the company. Peyton naturally headed down to the ring to compete in her scheduled contest against Ravyn, leaving Owen with one less ally. Ravyn’s plan bore fruit, Owen was assaulted. By the time his friends could reach him; the damage was already done. It was a damn shame to see Owen Cruze; the type of man the younger generation should look up to, fall victim to the scheming of Syren and her band of marauders. It would be easy to look at this match from a selfish lens. Here I am, stepping into the ring with Infamous, one of the top groups of all time, currently at the center of chaos, Ravyn and Christy are one half of the World Tag Team Champions for a reason. It would be easy to fall into the trap of focusing on what a victory over Infamous would mean in my first match back. As I said at the top, tomorrow night is NOT about me. What tomorrow is really about is having  Owen Cruze’s back.” 


Blake pauses. Walking into the scene is his enforcer Jaxson Sullivan who hands him a glass of champagne. Blake takes a sip. Hands the glass back to Jaxson.  


“Owen is a phenomenal young man. We didn’t start off on the best of terms. I was at peak douchebaggery several years ago, I almost compromised his career before it got started. A lesser man would have taken what I put Owen through, allowed themselves to become bitter, angry, treat everyone in the world like a piece of crap. But Owen didn’t do that. He has shown beyond a shadow of a reasonable doubt he is bright, inspirational, a true champion of the sport of professional wrestling. When Taylor and I get married, it will be my honor to become a part of his family. If I had a biological son, if he turns out to be 10% of the young man Owen Cruze is, I’ll be grateful. Owen doesn’t deserve to be used to send a message. He doesn’t deserve the hatred certain people on the roster feel about themselves inflicted on him. There are narcissists like Infamous who believe the world revolves around them. He doesn’t deserve their vitriol. Owen doesn’t need me to fight his battles. This week, I am a soldier in this one. Infamous are going to learn first hand that it is a mistake to screw with my family. Unlike Owen, who is too pure for this world... I’m not.”


Blake winks. 


“What has been the biggest criticism about me over the years? Pick a transgression. You wouldn’t be wrong. One of the criticisms that has been held against me is I have given the appearance of being a flip flopper. I’ll change my mind more than people change underwear. Are you a good guy or a bad guy? Who are you, really? Been doing this 2008. Twelve years. How many different versions of me have existed, lost count after awhile, to an extent all of the Faces of Mason are me in some way shape or form, BUT the one factor above them all that I have struggled with, how far do I push the envelope? We’ve seen how bad I can be when I push things to the extreme. A couple people can vouch for history behind a vehicle. A few can attest to my more manipulative ways of conducting business. You’d think with the close calls I‘ve had over the years would prompt me to become a better person in the eyes of society, to a degree, I am a better, several people can attest to that. Me and Shaun (Cruze) wouldn’t be business partners if I was a complete scumbag.” 


“If Retribution 2019 taught me anything I can’t take any half measures. I can’t hold back. I need to be willing to do what is necessary to get the job done. For a man like me, plodding along like a boy scout is NOT the way. This is a lesson the likes of Alistair Allocco need to drive through there skulls. There will always be men and women of the sport who fight the righteous battle, who will look at people like Infamous, paint them as this grand overbearing evil. How many years has Infamous existed? Who has truly put a stop to them? I’ve been in this company since 2008 for chrissakes, the women of Infamous are still very much a thing. Good and evil, right and wrong, I’ve watched that fight go on and on and on, just a waste.  Standing up for the people I care about will never get old. I’m just not going to put on my Superman cape, walk into a match believing beating the Big Bad of the Week is going to make a lick of difference. It won’t. Never has. Never will. Wrestling is mostly about the bottom line, that is a perspective I can get on board with.” 


“Know this Syren, Ravyn, Christy... I stand with Owen Cruze, not necessarily the purity of wrestling, I will help him smack you three around, no one crosses my boy and gets away with it.” 


Blake shakes his head. 


“While Owen and David may take a few half measures, I won’t. 



“I am not a good guy.” 



“I am not a bad guy.” 



“I am William Blake Mason.” 



“Infamous. S-C-DUBBYA... your boy is back.” 



“This time, all bets are off.”



“No more half measures.”



“And thanks for coming.”        


The scene closes with Jaxson handing Blake his glass of wine so he can take another drink.

[Owen]

Here's my effort for this match... enjoy

Owen #60

[ThatWasley]

OOC: And here's mine. Finally getting my story stuff started as Trio's delayed things. Click the graphic at the end of the cd to access the shoot. Good luck and enjoy!

David Helms: Living Dangerously - Chapter 167

[Syren]

Continuing on my current Syren story as her book gets closer to coming out, but she also makes a personal breakthrough.

Enjoy.



The Syren Song: Verse 309
"Typical lawyer, trying to get every cent you can out of people"

[Syren]

Second part of a three part story for Christy. So much fun with this using old characters I've not used in forever. Long enough, in fact, that most of you won't even remember them!

Enjoy.

Ebdon Entertainment Presents
Christy Matthews Uncensored
Motherhood
Part Sixteen: My Cottage [Part Two]