Taking Hold of the Flame Battle Royal
#21
ooc: 2 of 2 for Kim
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May 29th, 2022
Boston, Massachusetts
Off Camera
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What was meant to be a nice, normal, ordinary day for Kimberly Williams turned into an absolute wreck. Although let’s face it, anytime The Woman Scorned is involved nothing is ever normal or ordinary. Kimberly did hope to spend some time bonding with her nephew, she had hoped to just enjoy herself, and most importantly, Williams had hoped that the nightmarish stalking would be over. Those hopes were all dashed when Kimberly and Sean were jumped on the street and assaulted by none other than Carol Johnson, the same obsessed stalker who had been making Kim’s life a living hell for the past few months. What is more frightening to Kimberly is the fact that Carol has slowly been escalating her attacks. It started with a targeted strike only on Kim and Marie physically, outside of a Nashville hotel. Then she burned down Marie’s home in Boston. Then she went further and attacked other members of the family, namely Kim’s half-sister Jessica Lasiewicz by breaking into her home and wrecking the place.

Kimberly, Marie, and Jessica at least can defend themselves if necessary. Carol has now taken it too far by targeting Sean, Marie’s son and Kimberly’s nephew. Kim had suspected that she would eventually take it to that level; she had secretly hoped that Carol wouldn’t go as far as to attack an innocent child but Kim is a realist and she decided to take precautions. Williams clued authorities into the fact that she would be taking her nephew out on the town and that she was afraid for his safety due to the threat Carol posed. Authorities agreed to have police follow Kimberly, just in case Carol decided to strike. Sure enough, Carol did strike. And she did threaten the safety of Kim’s nephew Sean Jones. But Kim put her own health and well being at risk to defend him. She intercepted Carol, allowing her to beat on her over and over, giving Sean time to get away and most importantly allowing the police time to arrive and take care of the situation.

She may appear to be a psychopath, she may seem to be a lunatic, but deep down in her heart and soul she loves her family. Kim would sacrifice her very life for her family and today she damn near had to; but thankfully, Carol was captured. The obsessive stalker who wanted nothing more than to ruin Kimberly’s life has been taken into custody. Unfortunately, that may not be the end of it. Carol Johnson herself had already shouted at the top of her lungs that it wasn’t over. Despite being in handcuffs and thrown into the back of a police cruiser, the somewhat demented Johnson was adamant that she would not let it end here and now. Kimberly had hoped that by doing things by the books, letting the legal system handle Carol and showing her mercy, that perhaps it would finally end.

Yet the fact that The Woman Scorned is sitting in the hallway of police headquarters outside of a detective’s office is an indication that it may not be over. Kim is still dressed in torn denim jeans, flip flops, and a black “SCW” t-shirt. Seated next to her is her nephew Sean, who is also still wearing the same attire from earlier; denim jeans, sneakers, a plain white t-shirt. Kimberly has a cup of coffee, black, in her hands. Kim and Sean, as the victims and therefore witnesses of this attack, were brought in to give statements to the detectives. After all, they were just attacked by a woman who clearly wanted to do them physical harm, maybe even kill them.

Murder isn’t unusual to Kimberly Williams. It is a tactic she has used before in order to deal with problems. Usually she is good at hiding the evidence of her crimes. Weeks ago she had the opportunity to put an end to Carol Johnson. She had a knife in hand and a prone Carol in a local cemetery; she could have cut her throat right there. But Kimberly decided to show mercy. In Kim’s mind, murder started all of this when her uncle murdered Carol’s older sister, sending Carol spiraling into a quest for revenge. Would murder really solve the problem? Would ending Carol’s life really finish things? Murder is normal for Kim. Mercy, on the other hand, this is a new thing for The Woman Scorned. She isn’t used to showing mercy. And it scares her to death.

“Kim!” Williams and Sean both look up. It is almost like seeing yourself in the mirror, for Kim’s identical twin sister and Sean’s mother, Marie Jones, comes rushing over. Marie is dressed in a red blouse, black knee length skirt, and black patent leather high heel pumps.

“Mom!” Sean jumps up and runs over to greet his mom. The two embrace in a tight hug. Marie kisses him on his forehead.

“Are you ok, Sean? Did you get hurt?”

“No.” He points to Kim who has now risen up to her feet. “Aunt Kim saved me.”

“Oh Kim!” Marie exclaims as she turns to her twin sister. The sisters embrace in a tight hug and both begin to cry. “Thank you so much! Thank you for saving him! You have no idea how much this means to me!”

“Don’t mention it.” Kim says with a smirk on her face. “Seriously, don’t mention it. I don’t want anyone to realize I actually have the feelings of a normal, sane individual. It would totally ruin my reputation as a psychopath.”

“But after what I’ve done to you…” Marie’s voice trails off. Kim sighs.

“Marie, I love your son. He is my nephew, after all. He is my family. Just like you are my family. Regardless of any past differences we have had, I would still do anything to help my family.”

“Thank you.” Kimberly sits back down. Marie sits down next to her and Sean leaps over in between them. “So what happened?”

“I had just taken him out to an arcade.” Kim smiles sheepishly. “And Wasley may have broken a Whack-A-Mole machine.”

“Wasley…your boyfriend or the penguin?”

“Yes.” Kim says, nodding her head. Marie sighs and rolls her eyes.

“Look, just fast forward to when you two were assaulted.”

“The juicy details then! Well, we were waiting for taxi when a rope was wrapped around my neck. That nutjob Carol was trying to choke me out. Then she went after Sean. But I tackled her to the ground. Carol gained the upper hand and proceeded to kick the ever living crap outta me.” She motions to the bruises and blood stains on her face. “See?”

“Yeah…” Marie cringes “...damn, that was rough.”

“I know, right? I coulda washed up, I suppose, but you know what they say on those True Crime shows, you never want to tamper with a crime scene.” She motions to her face. “I think my face qualifies as a crime scene!”

“This doesn’t make sense.” Marie says, shaking her head.

“What doesn’t make sense? She punched my face until it looked like ground beef. I think that qualifies as a crime.”

“No, what doesn’t make sense is you.” Marie points a finger at Kim. “You are a highly skilled fighter. Hell, you are better than either me or Jessica.”

“Really?” Kim smirks. “You both have won world titles in other companies. I haven’t won any world title anywhere.”

“That’s because you haven’t had a fair one on one shot. You had a shot at the SCW World Title but a bunch of other people were involved. One on one you can beat Selena Frost. I know it. That’s why I was pressuring you so much, Kim. I know you are good enough to be World Champion. And at Taking Hold of the Flame…”

“Taking Hold of the Wasley.” Kim says, correcting her twin sister. Marie rolls her eyes.

“Whatever. Point is, I believe in you. I believe you can win the whole thing, you can win that rumble and punch your ticket to Rise To Greatness and beat Selena for the world title.”

“That’s what I intend to do.”

“Exactly. So if you can do all that, why does some untrained nutcase get the better of you?”

“Uh, I dunno.” Kim shrugs her shoulders. “She got lucky?”

“No way. Not THAT lucky. You were showing her mercy, weren’t you?”

“Hush!” Kim says while holding a finger over her lips. “What did I say about ruining my reputation?”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, Kim. In fact, I’m proud of you for showing restraint.”

“You are?”

“Yes.” Marie nods her head. “Going through the legal system is the best way to handle this. You were right all along, this woman has been stalking us and harassing us since Breakdown in Nashville months ago. But now the police have her in custody and it is over. We can move on with our lives.”

“I wish I could believe you.”

“What do you mean? The police have her, Kim. They have her dead to rights. She’s going to prison.”

“But for how long? Sure, she already has a record so maybe she will spend some extra time in prison due to that bit alone. But she just assaulted me, that’s all she did.”

“And she burned down my house…and she broke into Jessica’s house and wrecked the place.”

“But can they connect all of those incidents?” Kim asks. “Can they prove that the person who attacked us in Nashville, the person who burned down your house, the person who broke into Jessica’s house, and the person who attacked me today are all the same person? Even IF they can prove that, which is a difficult task, then at most she may get ten years, maybe fifteen? Twenty if we’re lucky. But then we have to worry about the possibility of parole. If she behaves herself and is a good little girl then she may get out early. And she’ll pick up right where she started.”

“You worry too much, Kim.” Marie remarks. “Maybe she could get out early if she is a model prisoner. But you saw how crazy she is; do you really think she could fake it for that long in order to get an early release?”

“I do…” Kim’s voice trails off. She laughs softly. She looks down at Sean. “Hey kiddo, why don’t you go get Aunt Kim another cup of the black stuff?”

“Coffee?”

“You got it.”

“Sure!” Sean gets up and walks off. Kim then turns her attention back to Marie once she is certain Sean is out of sight.

“Just because someone is crazy doesn’t mean they aren’t cunning. People say I’m crazy. But for a long time I had the world convinced that I was dead. Meanwhile you were locked away in my basement, as my prisoner, whilst I replaced you in your life. Do you remember that?” Kim asks. Marie quietly nods her head. It was a painful memory, and it was the event that got Kimberly locked up for a time in a mental hospital when Marie was ultimately rescued. “If I can pull off that kind of act, then I think crazy Carol can easily pretend to be a sane human being for a few years, long enough to earn an early release.”

Kim and Marie stare at one another for a few tense moments. Sean then returns, walking back towards them with a cup of coffee in hand. Before he can hand it off to Kim a door opens and an older man in a black suit, a detective, steps out and turns to face them.

“Ms. Williams?” He asks for Kim. She nods her head. “Would you mind stepping into my office please?”

“Sure thing, Columbo!” Kim gives a playful salute as she stands up. She looks at Sean still holding the cup of coffee. “Give that to your mom, I think she may need it more than me.” Kim turns and walks away from the pair and towards the detective. Kim follows the detective into his office. He shuts the door behind him.

“Have a seat, Ms. Williams.” He motions to a chair. Kim sits down in the comfy black chair. The detective goes to his desk and sits down. “My name is…”

“Columbo!”

“Not Columbo.” He chuckles softly. “Though I did love the show.”

“Oh darn! I was hoping for Columbo. Does Andy Griffith work here at least?”

“Sorry, wrong state.” He chuckles. “My name is Detective Smith. I read over the statement you gave to the police that were on the scene…”

“I hope I was graphic enough! I even left my face the exact same way Carol had left it! Don’t wanna mess up any evidence!”

“I appreciate that…I think…” the older detective sighs “...but yes, I did read your statement, and it matches up completely with the confession Ms. Johnson had made earlier. I was actually surprised that she confessed so quickly and so easily. But what surprised me most is how proud she sounded. She seemed proud of what she had done to you….and your sisters.”

“Wait…” now it is Kim’s turn to look surprised. “...she told you everything?”

“Ms. Williams, our department has been following your case for quite some time. Ever since the arson investigation into your sister’s house being burned down, actually. We learned that you two were attacked earlier by someone in Nashville. We had suspected from that moment that perhaps you were the victims of the same person and not two different people. Then when we investigated your other sister’s home getting broke into and vandalized, we again kept your case in the back of our mind. My department did not think it was a coincidence. Ms. Johnson confirmed our theory by confessing to all of them.”

“So you already cracked the case?” Kim grins from ear to ear. “You’re better than Columbo and Andy Griffith put together! But uh, if you already have this figured out, why do you need me?”

“What I do not understand yet is the motivation.” He looks straight into Kim’s eyes. “In fact, she told me to ask you about her motivation.”

The grin that Kimberly Williams had been sporting immediately goes away. This was not a topic she had wanted to discuss. She had hoped to move on from her tumultuous past. But Carol’s one last ditch gambit is to force Kimberly to admit to her own family’s crimes and horrid past. Kim knows that she is a good liar. She was trained well in the art of lying and knows she could easily lie to this detective’s face and he would believe her. But Kim decides once again to go against her nature. She decides to open up and tell the truth.

“Look detective, I’m gonna be totally honest with you.” She studies him closely. “You look like you’ve been here awhile. Are you near retirement age?”

“Pretty close. As you can tell by my silver hair, I have indeed been around the block quite a few times.”

“Then maybe you would remember my last name.”

“Williams?” He shrugs his shoulders. “I can’t say that I do. Then again, Williams is a rather common last name.”

“What about Douglas Williams?” Kim asks. This name immediately causes the detective to sit up straight in his chair.

“Douglas Williams? My God, I helped investigate those killings. “Are you his…”

“...his niece, detective.” Kim says, finishing his thoughts for him. “I’m his niece. My dad was Sean Williams.”

“Damn.” He shakes his head. “You know, I was convinced your father was involved but I couldn’t prove it. And when your uncle confessed to everything, well the district attorney’s office refused to let us go any further at that point.” He sighs. “I apologize, I shouldn’t be letting my emotions get to me like that. It’s unprofessional.”

“It’s ok. I mean, I get it. I know my uncle was a monster and quite honestly, I believe you, I think my dad was involved. But what I do know is that my dad felt guilty about his involvement. He worked hard to turn his life around and try to make up for his crimes in some way.”

“He should’ve turned himself in.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not perfect. But he did try.”

“Carol Johnson…now I know!” He snaps his fingers. “Her sister was one of the victims! That’s why she was stalking you?”

“That’s right. When my sister got wind of the fact that my uncle may not have been involved in the whole series of murders, she decided to fund a legal defense on his behalf, to get our uncle’s sentence reduced. I warned her that she would be stirring up a hornet’s nest but she didn’t care. Sure enough, someone noticed; namely, Carol. Carol just couldn’t accept that there was a chance her sister’s killer would get time taken off of his sentence. So she decided to exact revenge the only way she knew how.”

“It certainly makes sense.” Detective Smith sighs. “Unfortunately your testimony probably won’t be enough. I probably need to hear that motivation come from Ms. Johnson herself.”

“She’ll admit it.” Kim says. “Trust me.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Just trust me, she will admit it. She didn’t say anything to you because she wanted to force me to admit that my father and my uncle were monsters. And that I, by association, am also a monster.”

“Well I’m not a philosopher or a preacher, and I’m certainly not god.” he rises up out of his chair and approaches Kim. He places a hand on her shoulder. “But you risked your life to protect your nephew. In my eyes you are not a monster. You are a hero. Now I don’t know if your father really was trying to turn his life around, if he really was trying to redeem his family or not, but looking at you right now, I’d like to think that maybe YOU take a giant step in redeeming your family name.”

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June 4th, 2022
Cleveland, Ohio
On Camera
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The cameras begin to roll. It is dark outside. The moon shines brightly overhead, and other than the lamppost on the streets of Cleveland, Ohio that is the only source of light that we currently have at the moment. It isn’t long before “The Woman Scorned” Kimberly Williams enters the scene from the left. Kimberly is dressed in torn denim jeans, black boots, and a red t-shirt. Her long red hair hangs straight and unrestrained to past the shoulders. She has the SCW Underground Championship title belt wrapped around her waist.

“The question is why?” A sinister, demented laugh escapes her lips. “Why, Kim, why? Why don’t you care about the world championship? Some would have the audacity to say that if you are not in this business to be the world champion then you should leave. To them I say that you are full of shit. Those are the same arrogant, pompous assholes who think that they and they alone can determine what is right and wrong in professional wrestling. They are the ones who claim to be the singular moral compass of SCW. Those same pompous, arrogant jerks have been heroes, villains, good guys, bad guys, indifferent guys, and everything in between. Just look at our commissioner Shaun Cruiserweight. He has been just about every kind of person that you can be in this business. Or maybe Syren? She was willing to frame someone for attempted murder just to become world champion, she was willing to use her influence over the boss’s bitch daughter to get a leg up over the competition, but now suddenly we’re supposed to believe she is reformed and that she wants to earn the world title the right way? How many times has she done that song and dance where she would break every damn rule in the book only to suddenly turn into the hero again when it suited her? Even my cousin, Glory Braddock, who like Syren is in Taking Hold of the Flame, pompously believes that she is the only moral compass of professional wrestling. Yet she threw her hat in with those scoundrels the Beauty Factory. But now she’s suddenly the old Glory Braddock again? I don’t buy it. And I expect that little girl of hers, Amelia, is gonna adopt many of her same personality traits.”

“And people like them, they want to lay judgment upon people like me who because I don’t want to be world champion?” Kim shakes her head. “You’re all fake. There’s only one person here who is not fake, who has been consistent since day one and that is the reigning SCW World Champion Juneau Frost. Juneau, I will give you credit where credit is due. You have never wavered from who you are. Which is appropriate because you hold the one symbol of SCW’s prestige. You hold what these egomaniacs like Syren, Braddock, Allocco, and others in this battle royal claim to be the richest prize in SCW…the World Championship.”

“Unfortunately this is where we part ways.” Kim cackles again. “I see the truth behind the lie that is the World Championship. Shaun Cruiserweight makes rules regarding that title and he just chooses to break them whenever it suits him. And it isn’t just him. Every other idiot who has managed this place has done that…they make a rule and they break it. It’s supposed to be illegal to deliver a low blow or use a foreign object in order to win a match, it draws an automatic DQ, yet how many times were tactics like that utilized and then the rules were ignored? Hell, Syren became champion once by framing someone for a crime. If Mr. D actually gave a damn about the rules he would have marched his old ass to the very next Breakdown and stripped her of the damn title. But he let it roll. Shaun Cruiserweight allowed a match between Juneau and Holly Adams to take place where the title could change hands on a disqualification. And despite blatant outside interference from yours truly, no disqualification was called. The rule was cleared but was ignored.”

“The SCW World Championship is a tainted prize. It has lost its shine and its prestige due to years and years of criminal acts perpetrated just to get ahead. My eyes have been opened to the truth that the only way to live and to receive a fair opportunity in society is to live in a society without rules. And the only fair way to do business in wrestling is in a wrestling business without rules.” She pats the Underground Title belt around her waist. “The Underground Title is the very definition of wrestling without rules. There are no rules in the Underground division, therefore you cannot break any rules. Therefore the Underground division is fair. And the Underground Title is more prestigious than the World Championship held by Juneau.”

“So why am I in wrestling when I do not want to be world champion? That’s why! Now comes the next question, why am I in Taking Hold of the Flame when the prize awarded to the winner is a shot at the SCW World Championship, a title that I do not want? Simple; I am going to send a message to Shaun Cruiserweight, to Juneau, to all of those pompous asses who think that they can make the rules, and hell, I’ll end up sending a shockwave of a message throughout all of professional wrestling.”

“See, you have people like Owen, Alexis, and Oktoberfest, you have people like Glory Braddock and Syren, you have people like Crystal, Diamond, and even that cheap Rocky III Thunderlips rip off in this battle royal, all vying to earn a shot at the World Championship because they are all under the delusion that the SCW World Title still means something. I am going to tear their dreams away from them by winning that battle royal. All of these people who claim to want to become World Champion…and the person who actually wins it all will be someone who doesn’t give a rat’s ass about the world title!” She throws her head back and laughs. “Now THAT is funny, don’t ya think?”

“That, my friends, is the ultimate punch line to the ultimate joke that is the SCW World Title. Because when I win Taking Hold of the Flame, someone who doesn’t care about being world champion will then be in the main event of Rise To Greatness fighting for the title. And I will be fighting either Juneau Frost, the last remaining symbol of hope for the SCW World TItle, or Gigi The Spiritual Advisor.” Kim drops to her knees. “I am begging you, Juneau, please win! Please retain! Because it will be much sweeter to prove my point by fighting you at Rise To Greatness than it would to have to fight GiGi.” Kim stands back up.

“Winning Taking Hold of the Flame would put me in the main event of Rise To Greatness. That’s the only prize I want. Because when I go to the main event…” she unclasps the Underground Title belt and raises it high over her head “...THIS will be defended alongside the World Title. Shaun Cruiserweight will have no choice. The main event of Rise To Greatness will be an Underground Title Match thus proving my point to the entire world that the Underground Title is superior.”

“I have worked so long for this moment. Hell, while I was still running around with my sister Marie at the beginning of the year, I was even then contemplating what it would be like to not just win the Underground Title but to elevate it. I salivated at the mere thought of silencing the boirgiouse elites of SCW and symbolically back-handing everything those assholes hold near and dear to the hearts. This has been my goal for a very long time now. Do you honestly believe that I am going to let thirty nine delusional losers gets in my way? Do you honestly think any of you can stop me? I’m begging you to try because no one has stopped me yet. I have taken more abuse in my short time here in SCW than many of you kids would ever take in your entire damn life! Because I am willing to sacrifice my blood, my health, and my life for what I do…to prove myself as the real Queen of the Death Match! There isn’t anything any of you thirty nine other clowns can think of to do to me that would make me quit.” The camera zooms in on Kim’s face which looks more and more twisted and psychotic.

“A revolution is coming, comrades. And you are looking into the face of that revolution. It all begins at Taking Hold of the Flame…and I swear to God that this revolution will not end until my message has been sent, until I have won Taking Hold of the Flame! And I swear to God that I will paint Cleveland red in the blood of anyone who tries to stop this revolution!”

Kimberly turns and walks away. The camera fades to black.
[Image: KIMWILLIAMS.png]
SWC Southern Heavyweight Champion 1x
MWA Turmoil Champion 1x
GCW World Tag Team Champion 1x
UWA World Tag Team Champion 1x
HKW Bloodlust Champion 2x
SCW World Tag Team Champion 1x
SCW Underground Champion 2x
SCW Television Champion 1x
SCW United States Champion 1x
MWE Chicago Way Champion 1x
Queen of the Death Match


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#22


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#23
28th May 2022

Miami
 
Owen: That’s not what it looks like Regan.
 
Owen glances at the photos again… he knew EXACTLY what it looked like
 
Regan: No? Well, it certainly looks like you hugging my daughter.
 
Owen: Yes, but as friends. Where did you get them from anyway?
 
Regan: That’s doesn’t really matter does it? I’m guessing you’re not going to embarrass yourself further and try and claim they are fake?
 
Owen: No, they aren’t fake. Jen and I have been spending a little time together. That time, she came to see the house, nothing more.
 
Regan: So, these pictures are just hugs between friends?
 
Owen: Yes, that’s exactly it.
 
Regan: So why when I asked her where she had been going for days on end, she lied to me and told me that she was going to modelling shoots?
 
Owen: I don’t know… maybe she didn’t think you’d listen. Maybe she thought you’d react like this.
 
Regan: How am I supposed to react Owen? After what you did to her, after what you did to David. You were lucky I didn’t slit your throat. And now it seems that you’ve been going behind my back and having cozy little meetings. I won’t let you hurt her again Owen. I’m going to tell you this one. Stay away from her, or next time I won’t be anywhere near as civil.
 
Owen: Regan, I’m a different person now. I know I did wrong. Not only to your family, but to Mom, Peyton… it’s quite a list. I’m trying to do better, and part of that is making it up to Jen anyway I can. Out of everyone, she is the one I want to believe in me, and yes… maybe one day I would love it if we got back together because I truly believe that she is the one I should be with for the rest of my life. I don’t want there to be anymore lies Regan, but I promise you, head on heart. Jen and I are NOT back together. We are friends, and right now that’s enough for me.
 
It was an impassioned speech, and it does indeed soften Regan a little. There was no question that Jennifer had been at her happiest when she had been with him, before it all went awry. Maybe he did deserve a second chance at proving himself to the family, and perhaps she was being a little harsh considering the events that had led to Owen losing his mind. If Jennifer was happy again, then maybe she could be as well… for them.
 
Regan: No lies huh?
 
Owen: No, none. There have been enough lies to last a lifetime. I mean it Regan, if friends is all there is, that’s good enough for me. I don’t know who sent you these photos, but whoever it is, they are trying to stir up shit.
 
Regan nods, understanding but needing to ask on final question.
 
Regan: Did you sleep with her?
 
Owen hesitates, not expecting that question. He wants to say something, anything, but can’t make the words escape his lips. His silence was all the answer that Regan needed however.
 
Regan: You son of a bitch… I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you.
 
Regan turns to leave, having heard more than enough. Friends didn’t sleep together, and although Jennifer had been there as well, right now she held Owen firmly as the one to blame.
 
Owen: Regan please…
 
Owen places a hand on her shoulder and instinctively she spins around, pushing him backwards and causing him to fall over a stool and crash down on the floor. Owen screams out, his right hand immediately going to his left wrist.
 
Owen: My wrist… I think its broken.
 
He winces as he tries to move it, Regan looking at him wide-eyed. She hadn’t meant to hurt him, it had been an accident, but… this was bad, Taking Hold of the Flame just around the corner. Regan was angry, so very angry and before she knows it, words leave her mouth involuntarily.
 
Regan: Stay away from Jennifer or next time it will be a whole lot worse.
 
Owen tries to get to his feet, but Regan is already heading to the front door.
 
Owen: Regan wait.
 
She opens the door and slams it behind her, almost running to her car and getting inside. She looks at the house, at the front door, troubled by what she was about to do. But when Owen appears at the front door, still holding his wrist, she guns the engine without even looking back. Owen stands there, holding his wrist, leaning against the door frame, whilst trying to ignore the intense pain. He looks at the wrist, that is already starting to swell, and his thoughts turn to Taking Hold of the Flame, now just over a week away.
 
Owen: SHIT!!
 
28th May 2022
Miami
 
Owen sits in the waiting room having just had an x-ray and with his arm in a makeshift sling. Charlotte had come with him to keep him company, not that he had been very talkative, a whole host of things running amok in his head. First, Regan reacting like that had taken him by surprise, thought it really shouldn’t have. But secondly, and right now more importantly, Regan could have just put him on the shelf, and out of Taking Hold of the Flame… and for what? Owen didn’t know who had been trying to stir up trouble, but the fact is, this time at least, he WAS telling the truth, but Regan hadn’t been willing to listen. Now, everything was in real danger of going to shit, and if his wrist was broken there was nothing, he could do about it.
 
Charlotte: You want me to fetch you a coffee or something? They did say it might be a while.
 
Owen shakes his head
 
Owen: Nah, I’m wired enough already. I just need them to come back with these results.
 
Charlotte: So, are you going to tell me how it happened? And don’t tell me it was an accident, or that you walked into a wall.
 
Owen: I’d rather not if it’s all the same, it’s kinda embarrassing.
 
Charlotte: That’s makes it even more intriguing. Come on, I promise I won’t laugh.
 
Owen sighs, there was no getting away from it. Charlotte wasn’t going to let it go.
 
Owen: It was Jennifer’s Mom.
 
Charlotte tries to keep a straight face but can’t and bursts out in laughter. Owen glares at her, shaking his head, knowing he shouldn’t have said anything.
 
Charlotte: So, you got beat up by the potential Mother-In-Law? That’s priceless.
 
Owen: You know who her Mom is right?
 
Charlotte: Nope, does that information make it funnier?
 
Owen: No. Regan Street was until recently a professional wrestler like me. One of the very best in fact. There would have been no shame if she had beat me up that’s for sure. In fact, it wouldn’t have been the first time.
 
Charlotte: Oh. OK.
 
Charlotte understands that he is being serious, so immediately stops laughing.
 
Owen: Someone sent her some pictures of Jen and I hugging…
 
Charlotte: Who?
 
Owen: I don’t know, someone obviously trying to cause shit for me. Could be you for all I know.
 
Charlotte: Owen, I’d never…
 
Owen: I know, it was a bad joke.
 
Owen shrugs his shoulders as his ‘joke’ misses the target.
 
Owen: Anyway, she got totally the wrong end of the stick…
 
Charlotte: Well, not entirely
 
Owen: Do you want to know the story or what?
 
Charlotte: Sorry, carry on.
 
Owen: She asked me if we’d slept together, and I couldn’t lie.
 
Charlotte: And she lost her shit?
 
Owen: No actually, she went to leave and as she did, I grabbed her shoulder she reacted and spun around, pushing me instinctively. I fell over a stool or something, and smashed my wrist on the floor. The rest you know.
 
Charlotte: And she just left you?
 
Owen: Yeah, and that’s when I called you and I didn’t have anyone else.
 
Charlotte digests the information she had now been given and understands why Owen had been so quiet. She thought it had been embarrassment, when it was Regan’s reaction that had troubled him most after he had worked so hard to be a different person.
 
Charlotte: I’m glad to help. Sorry I made a joke about it, I didn’t realize.
 
Owen: It is what it is. I just want to go home so I can crack open a beer and forget about things for a while. Just hope it isn’t broken or else I’m screwed for next week.
 
Taking Hold of the Flame was just around the corner, and Owen was looking to win the whole thing having come up short against Josh Hudson. He wouldn’t be able to achieve that if he wasn’t cleared for action. If his wrist was broken, he’d have no chance.
 
Charlotte: I’m sure it will be fine.
 
Owen: I hope you’re right, but it hurts like a bitch and its twice the size it should be so I’m sorry if I don’t share your confidence.
 
The swing doors open and both Owen and Charlotte look towards them, their faces dropping with disappointment as another patient walks through. After a momentary silence it is Charlotte who speaks.
 
Charlotte: Can I ask you a question and if I do, don’t take it the wrong way?
 
Owen: Sure, not going anywhere.
 
Charlotte: Is Jennifer worth it?
 
Owen must react a certain way that makes Charlotte wonder if she should have asked the question as she is quick to explain herself.
 
Charlotte: I mean, I’ve met her. She’s beautiful, kind, funny… I can one hundred percent understand why you want to be with her, but it sounds to me like you would never have her Mom’s approval. It’s important to have your parent’s approval for any relationship so is it worth all the suffering?
 
Owen: Thing is Charlotte, if you have someone like Regan are your side, she will have your back wholeheartedly. When Jennifer and I were together, she was with us every single step of the way… Dave, her Dad was as well. But she is also fiercely protective, and if anyone threatens her or her family, it takes an awful lot for her to back down.
 
Charlotte: It sounds like you are making excuses for her.
 
Owen: You know what, perhaps I am. I don’t know why she bailed, but what I do know is that she didn’t mean for this to happen. But to answer your question, yes, Jennifer is worth it. She’s my one, I know it… and I think if you asked Regan, deep down she believes that too.
 
Charlotte nods her head, fully understanding even if she didn’t agree.
 
Charlotte: So, what you going to do?
 
Owen shrugs his shoulders
 
Owen: I don’t have the first clue how I’m going to deal with it, but first things first, I need to know what the damage is to my wrist, and whether I’m going to be able to compete or not.
 
Charlotte: Are you going to report her to the police?
 
Owen: Nah, I don’t think there is any need for that. Like I said, I just want these results. I need to know… the rest of it I’ll have to deal with later.
 
Charlotte: You’re more forgiving than me that’s for sure.
 
Owen: I truly believe it was an accident. We’ll laugh about it one day.
 
She saw the look on his face and knew that he wasn’t as certain as he was making out. However, she decides to leave it. Owen said that right now it wasn’t important, and she would respect that… even if right now she believed that she was a far better fit for Owen than Jennifer was. And she came without all the drama. The doors swing open again, and the Doctor that had taken the x-ray steps out, motioning for Owen to follow.
 
Charlotte: I’ll wait here.
 
Owen senses her annoyance but makes his way into the Doctors office and takes a seat.
 
Doctor: So, we have good news.
 
Owen: We do?
 
The Doctor brings the x-ray up on screen, Owen not sure what he is looking out other than it’s his arm.
 
Doctor: The wrist isn’t broken and there are no signs of fracture.
 
Owen: That’s a relief.
 
Doctor: However, you do have a minor sprain which is what is causing your current discomfort.
 
Owen: A sprain?
 
Doctor: Yes, just a Grade One, so no big deal. Should be healed fully in the next two to four weeks. Until then, keep the wrist elevated, no heavy lifting and you should be fine.
 
Owen: For two to four weeks?
 
Doctor: Yes.
 
Owen sighs deeply
 
Doctor: I’ll prescribe you some pain killers, take the full course and there shouldn’t be any reason to see you again.
 
The Doctor writes out the prescription and slides it towards Owen.
 
Doctor: Try to stay out of trouble for a while huh.
 
Owen: Yeah, sure thing.
 
He gets to his feet, and without saying a word leaves the office, meeting up once again with Charlotte. She sees the look on his face and assumes the worst.
 
Charlotte: Is it broken?
 
Owen: No, it’s not. ‘Just’ a sprain.
 
Charlotte: Oh, so what does that mean?
 
Owen: It means that thanks to Regan, I’m out of the Pay-per-view.
 
Owen picks up his jacket with his good hand and makes his way towards the exit, Charlotte pulling a face and then following. She knew what this meant to him, both things that he loved now apparently out of his reach and she sighs, a smile forming on her face. Knowing that hers was probably the shoulder he would cry on. Or, at least hoping it was.
 
31st May 2022
Texas
 
Charlotte never got the chance to make her move, because the moment that Owen realized the threat this was to him taking part at Taking Hold of the Flame, he knew precisely who it was he needed to visit. Within a couple of days, and with his wrist now bandaged up rather than in a sling, he was on a flight to Texas, to meet Daisy at the place where everything has restarted for him. The Slaughterhouse. When he got there, Daisy hadn’t arrived yet, but thankfully her Father was, and so he spent half an hour talking about pretty much nothing, a nice distraction from everything else. But once Daisy had arrived, her Dad had almost immediately made himself scarce, Daisy already informing him that they had important things to talk about. Rather than sit at the table, or on the sofa, Daisy decides that’s the Slaughterhouse itself would be a good location for this discussion to take place. The place where Owen had worked through all of his emotions and come out the other side. As he enters the Slaughterhouse, he immediately sees the meat hooks and cannot help but grin, remembering the sheer fear as they were swung towards him, the pain if one of them should connect. Daisy pulls out a couple of chairs, and positions them next to the giant freezer, another place with ‘pleasant’ memories, and then she motions for him to sit. Once he has, she joins him, and immediately points to the wrist.
 
Daisy: So, Regan did that?
 
Owen nods, holding it up and moving his wrist ever so slightly.
 
Daisy: On purpose?
 
Owen: No, or at least I don’t think so. Pretty sure it was an accident.
 
Daisy: Funny how many accidents occur when Regan is around isn’t it?
 
She says it with a sly grin… in many ways her and Regan were very much alike.
 
Daisy: You always knew that Regan and David would be a huge obstacle for you and Jennifer. AJ as well no doubt.
 
Owen: I know… kinda hit home exactly how deep the feeling is. I’m not sure she’ll ever change her mind to be honest so where does that leave us.
 
Daisy: Try not to worry about Regan. She’s good friends with Rachel, and she’ll listen to her. No promises, but that may well be your best shot. David and AJ… well you might just have to fight that one out. It was always going to be a long-drawn-out process and not everyone was going to forgive you.
 
Owen: Yeah, I know… more concerned now about telling SCW that I can’t compete this Sunday
 
Daisy: And why would you do something as stupid as that?
 
Owen holds up his damaged wrist, an incredulous look on his face.
 
Daisy: Is it broken?
 
Owen: No.
 
Daisy: Then you can still compete… did you not learn anything between these walls?
 
He looks confused, whilst at the same time Daisy looks more than a little disappointed.
 
Daisy: In the wild, if an animal is injured it doesn’t just give up. It adapts, and it fights, just like you need to do on Sunday. OK, it’s gonna hurt, no doubting that. But you’ve experienced pain far worse in your life, some of it right where you sit right now. It’s your left hand that’s injured, so use your right. Don’t show anyone you’re hurt, and they won’t know will they?
 
Owen: That simple huh?
 
Daisy: No, course it isn’t simple. Nothing worth doing ever is. You have two choices really, either give it your best shot, or walk away and fight another day. This is the second biggest PPV in the world, I think we both know which option you are going to choose. All I’m really saying is you can still do this; I know you can. You’ve been through a lot worse.
 
Once again, the memories come flooding back of the slaughterhouse, the metal hooks slicing his skin. He felt more confident now that he could compete and not make a fool of himself, but still in the back of his mind was the potential for further, more longer lasting damage.
 
Owen: OK, I’ll give it a go and hopefully no one will have a clue. Can’t imagine SCW would be happy if they found out I’d wrestled injured.
 
Daisy: Just use everything you have learned Owen. Go past the threshold of what you think you can do, and win Taking Hold of the Flame.
 
Owen: OK, I’ll give it my best. I promise I won’t let you down.
 
Daisy: You’d never do that Owen. In fact, that brings us nicely to what I wanted to talk to you about.
 
Owen: Oh yeah, I’d totally forgotten about that.
 
Daisy: I think it’s time for our partnership to come to an end.
 
Owen: What? What do you mean?
 
Daisy: At the start, when you very first went back to SCW, I understood why you needed someone to have your back. You didn’t know what was going to happen, and how things were going to pan out, that’s why I agreed to stand in your corner, but it was always going to be a temporary thing. You want to stand on your own feet, and Miami is proof positive that you can, but that isn’t going to happen if I come to the ring with you every single week. Not only that Owen, but I also never really wanted to return to SCW, I was done with that company, and I only made the exception because it was you. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not casting you out in the cold. I’ll always be here for you if you need an ear, or any advice, but can’t you see? This is no different to your situation when you lived in Los Angeles. Where you knew you always had a safety net no matter what.
 
Owen: I’m not sure I’m ready though
 
Daisy: You are Owen, everything you’ve achieved so far hasn’t been because I’m stood there, it’s because of you. Seriously, how many times have I had to get involved? The fact of the matter is you don’t need me Owen. The moment you stepped back into this company; I don’t think you ever did. It’s time for you to spread those wings and fly and show everyone what I see, and what you are truly capable of.
 
Owen: You really think I can do this?
 
Daisy: I know you can Owen.
 
Owen nods thoughtfully. In his mind Daisy would be in his corner indefinitely, but somewhere in the deepest regions of his brain there was a part of him that knew this agreement would one day come to an end and Daisy would go back to her life. He was twenty-two years old now, and he was never going to be truly standing on his own feet until Daisy left his corner. He at least knew that even he she wasn’t there he would always have a best friend. And that meant everything to him. That someone could care that much.
 
Owen: I guess that’s decided then. I owe you Daisy. For everything you’ve done.
 
Daisy: It wasn’t me Owen, this person was always there, I just helped you bring it out. Now it’s time for that person to thrive… and I know you will. And I know that one day it will be with Jennifer right by your side.
 
Owen: I hope so.
 
Daisy: You’ve shown everything else Owen. You’re a more skilled competitor, a more level-headed individual and people are seeing that firsthand. All you now have to be is patient and you’ll have it all.
 
Owen stands and the two hug, both with smiles on their faces.
 
Daisy: Good luck Owen…
 
Owen: Thank you.
 
Daisy: It was my pleasure.
 
Owen spent a little while longer there, and had lunch with Daisy and her Father, but always at the forefront of his mind was his future, and where he went from here. All that mattered though was that he had a future, twelve months ago he wouldn’t have been so sure of that. Now, he needed to make the most of his second chance. And he was damn sure that he would.
 
2nd June 2022
Los Angeles
 
With the Wrestling school now just a few weeks from opening, Owen had decided that he had just enough time to travel to Los Angeles from Texas, before making his way directly to Atlanta for the PPV. Atlanta was only a short flight to Miami, but he had a few signings that he would have to do before the PPV and so therefore it would make more sense if he went straight there. After firming things up with psychiatrist Andy, who would spend Three Days in New York, Four in Los Angeles, he had a little while to spare so he heading to the mall to pick up a few things. With a couple of bags containing new clothes, he makes his way through the mall, heading towards the car park where he would drive straight to the airport.
 
“Owen?”
 
Surprised that someone is calling him by name, he almost immediately recognizes the voice, and turns to face Jennifer.
 
Jennifer: What you doing here?
 
Owen: Just picking up some stuff.
 
Jennifer: Oh Jesus, you buying clothes for yourself again?
 
Owen: Yeah… what’s wrong with that?
 
Jennifer rolls her eyes and makes a grab for one of the bags, rolling her eyes at the contents and then seeing Owen’s bandaged up wrist.
 
Jennifer: What did you do? Wrestling injury.
 
Owen: Would you believe me if I said yes?
 
Jennifer: Not now I wouldn’t, no.
 
Owen looks at his watch
 
Owen: I really gotta get to the airport Jen
 
Jennifer: I’m sure you’ve got ten minutes. Coffee seeing as you’re here. My shout?
 
Owen: OK, one coffee, then I gotta go.
 
Jennifer: Deal
 
TEN MINUTES LATER
 
Owen and Jennifer sit at a coffee house, both with cups of coffee in front of them. Jennifer cradles her, but Owen sits with his right hand purposely resting on his knee
 
Jennifer: I’m not going to forget you know. How did you hurt yourself?
 
Owen: Honestly Jen, it’s best if we don’t speak about it.
 
Jennifer: Best for who?
 
Owen: Everyone… can we talk about something else?
 
Jennifer: Sure, we can talk about something else. Once you tell me what happened to your wrist.
 
Owen sighs resigned to his fate. He’d promised no more lies, and even if he did she would see right through him.
 
Owen: It was an accident.
 
Jennifer: OK, then it shouldn’t be a problem telling me.
 
Owen: I got into a heated conversation, I got pushed and fell over a stool, spraining my wrist.
 
Jennifer: Heated conversation? With who?
 
Owen rubs his eyes with his good hand, there was no getting out of this one.
 
Owen: It was Regan…
 
Jennifer: Mom. Why?
 
Owen blows the froth of his Cappuccino and then takes a sip, Jennifer waiting patiently for answers.
 
Owen: Because someone anonymously sent her pictures of you and me in Miami cuddling.
 
Jennifer: And she pushed you over for that? We’re friends.
 
Owen lowers his eyes to the floor
 
Jennifer: Owen, is there something else you’re not telling me?
 
Owen: She asked me if we had slept together.
 
Jennifer’s face drops.
 
Owen: I couldn’t lie to her Jen, I just couldn’t. She was walking away from me, so angry, and I grabbed her, it was all instinct.
 
He brings his hand up and rests it on the table.
 
Owen: And this happened when I fell.
 
Jennifer: Owen, I know you are all about telling the truth nowadays, but really?
 
Owen: I don’t know, perhaps I thought she’d accept it.
 
Jennifer: This is Mom you’re talking about. No wonder she’s been weird with me.
 
Owen: Oh, she doesn’t blame you. It’s all on me. Either way, she made it clear that you and I are not to see each other, not even as friends and then she left.
 
Jennifer: But, you have a match this weekend don’t you?
 
Owen: Yeah, Taking Hold of the Flame. I just need to make the best of it. I don’t blame her Jen, I kind of deserve it after what I did to you and your family. She’s just looking out for you.
 
Jennifer takes his hand with the sprained wrist, gently rubbing her finger on the back of his hand
 
Jennifer: How did we get into this mess huh?
 
Owen: I’m to blame for all of it Jen. I guess I’m getting off lightly with a sprained wrist huh.
 
Jennifer lets go of his hand and rubs her eyes, before looking directly into Owen’s.
 
Jennifer: I can’t do this anymore Owen, I just can’t. All I want to do is be happy, and I’m happiest when I’m with you. And now you’re getting hurt, and potentially losing something important to you, just because Mom doesn’t like the fact, we are friends. I love them Owen, and I don’t want to upset them, but what about me, what about my feelings?
 
Owen is speechless and unsure what to say. She seemed to be telling him that she wanted to be with him but didn’t want to jinx it in anyway.
 
Jennifer: This isn’t fair on anyone.
 
Owen: I get it if you don’t want to see each other anymore, not even as friends.
 
Jennifer: That’s not what I want Owen.
 
Owen: Then what do you want?
 
She thinks about the question for a few seconds, going through all the permutations at light speed whilst every single time arriving at the same conclusion.
 
Jennifer: The same as you.
 
She stands, and leans over the table, cupping Owen’s face with her hands and kissing him full on the lips. At first Owen is in shock, but then he melts into the kiss, allowing himself to be taken away by the moment. As Jennifer sits back down, Owen is still lost, but when he comes too, Jennifer is sat in front of him, biting her bottom lip and looking more beautiful that she ever had.
 
Jennifer: Say something Owen.
 
Owen: Does this mean…?
 
He doesn’t have to finish the sentence, Jennifer already nodding.
 
Jennifer: I love you, and I want to be with you. You’re my lobster…
 
Owen laughs as Jennifer clearly cringes after a reference to their favorite episode of ‘Friends’. He takes both her hands in his, noticing that the pain was just about bearable, or perhaps his mind was elsewhere.
 
Owen: But what about your Mom and Dad… and AJ for that matter? I don’t want to cause any trouble.
 
Jennifer: Then we won’t tell them, not until we are ready. I don’t like lying to them, but maybe given time to figure it out, they will figure it out too.
 
Owen: And this person taking photos… for all we know they are watching us right now.
 
Jennifer shrugs
 
Jennifer: I don’t know all the answers Owen, all I know is I feel like we should be together, and I think you feel the same.
 
Owen: I do.
 
Jennifer: Then we stand on our own two feet. We aren’t kids anymore, we know what we want and once they see it for themselves, they will too.
 
Owen: I don’t like lying to anyone Jen
 
Jennifer: More than you don’t like being apart?
 
Owen doesn’t answer
 
Jennifer: Exactly, so if we get found out, so be it. We’ll deal with it then.
 
Owen: And you are sure? No second thoughts like last time.
 
She leans forwards, and they kiss again. As they part, Jennifer gives him the most amazing smile.
 
Jennifer: No second thoughts… I promise.
 
Owen smiles back, almost in disbelief. Just half an hour a go his greatest concern was competing with a sprained wrist, but now, none of that seemed to matter. Win or lose at Taking Hold of the Flame his career was back on track. His hatred for his Father had faded away to almost nothing, replaced by a certain understanding. He was talking to his Mom again, like nothing had happened. But more important than all, he and Jennifer were finally back together. And as they clasp hands, Owen can only believe one thing. That being it was a good time to be alive. And as far as he was concerned, this were only going to get better. The fact was that right now, never mind thirty-nine people, Owen felt like he could take on the world
 
3rd June 2022
Cleveland
Rocket Mortgage Fieldhouse
 
Owen emerges from one of the tents set up for the SCW Fan Event just outside the venue for this weekend’s Taking Hold of the Flame, putting on his sunglasses as the brightness outside hurts his eyes. Several of the SCW Superstars had just finished the last autograph signing of the day, and Owen was ready to hit the gym and put in his final preparations for what could be a career defining special event. However, as he walks, he spots a camera filming the event, and walks over to it.
 
“Hey man, you wanna earn some extra cash.”
 
The camera moves in a nodding motion.
 
“Cool, then let’s do this.”
 
Owen had planned to do his final promo in the hotel room later, or perhaps even the gym. But an impromptu version like this seemed to fit in amongst all the chaos that Taking Hold of the Flame would inevitably be. He positions himself in front of the tent, the SCW Taking Hold of the Flame banner prominently displayed behind him before then acknowledging the camera facing him with a nod. Several fans start to circle around, realizing what was about to happen but Owen didn’t mind one bit, he was more than happy that there were still those that wanted to listen to him, and if anything, he was making more time for the fans than he even did before.
 
“We on?”
 
The cameraman nods his head, not really believing that after mulling around the fan event capturing emotions, he was going to get an exclusive with one of the competitors in the Battle Royal, someone who many expected to go quite deep into the competition. Owen wasn’t buying into the hype however, he’d already explained the chaotic nature of this match, and the odds against them all. It was however nice that people were starting to believe in him again. Ruffling the hair of a young man who stands nearby, his parents even more eager than him to get in the shot, Owen starts to speak, quietly and yet supremely confident.
 
“When I came back to this company there is no doubt that I once again wanted to taste success in the way I had as a teenager. It might seem like a lifetime ago now, but I still remembered what it felt like to be SCW World Champion, and there was no way I was going to come back into this industry without that accolade always positioned nicely at the back of my mind.
 
Anyone who says they don’t want to be World Champion, with of course the exception of Kim Williams, they are lying through their teeth.
 
After all, if you don’t, what the hell are you doing here? But I knew that I wasn’t going to walk in and be given title shot after title shot, that’s not the way this company works, and it’s the reason why it has existed for so long. I knew I would have to work, and undeniably that is precisely what I have done. I’ve worked my ass off to ensure that when titles are being spoken about, I am in the equation. The United States title fell by the wayside, I’ve wasted more than enough time talking about that. And now the next opportunity presents itself. A potential opportunity at Rise to Greatness for the SCW World Championship. It quite literally doesn’t get any bigger than that.”
 
Owen takes off his sunglasses and looks down at the boy and winks at him, putting a smile on the little man’s face that he would probably remember forever.
 
“But at the forefront of my ‘rehabilitation’ I guess you could call it, was always going to be these guys... the fans. Sometimes, you lose that connection, social media tends to be more negative than anything else as the trolls will always have prominence. So, it’s difficult to understand just how far you have fallen, and who still believes in you and who doesn’t, the good comments almost drowned out by the bad. These events, really getting in front of the people, and being able to talk to them one on one, it gives you a reality check but in a good way. You start to understand that these amazing people believed in me more than I even believed in myself, and I’ll never take that for granted ever again. Even in my darkest days, even after I assaulted the one man that made all of this, SCW, possible, these people were good enough to never lose hope. And I appreciate that more than they will ever know. I stand here right now, at least in part, because of them. I couldn’t keep say sorry and you know what, the ones that truly mattered, they don’t expect me to. All I can now do is show my appreciation by action. By being here at these events front and center and making myself accessible to them, and they did me as I attempted to turn all this around. I thought public opinion would kill me when I returned, I guess that’s why I bought Daisy with me, just in case I was lynched at arenas worldwide. It’s credit to you all that you saw through it all where I couldn’t, happy to give me the second chance I didn’t believe I deserved.”
 
The crowd around him has now started to increase, not that Owen has noticed. He seems totally focused on what he wants to say, determined to get his point across and get things right.
 
“I don’t care what they say at GCW. And I’m sure my good friend Adam Lucas would disagree, but EAW have got it all wrong as well. No question about it. Supreme Championship Wrestling has THE best fans in the world, bar none. The most knowledgeable, understanding fan base IN THE WORLD. And you know what, I am honored to represent them Sunday night in the Taking Hold of the Flame match and do everything I can to ensure that when the dust settles, I am the one left standing.”
 
A small, respectful ripple of applause rolls around those nearby, Owen acknowledging the response with a humble smile, Owen showing his humility towards them. As the applause dies down, he continues.
 
“Easier said than done right? I mean let’s face it, there are thirty-nine other people that are going to state exactly the same thing, many who already have. These people are all incentivized in their own way, all believing that this is going to be their moment. I mean, if you watched Breakdown you would have heard Josh Hudson talking about how he was going to make sure he was the one to throw me from the ring, teaching me a lesson when I’m still waiting for the last one that he promised. You can’t have missed Kim Williams wanting to win so that she can place her Underground Title in the Main Event at Rise to Greatness, totally missing the point of what Taking Hold of the Flame has always been about, once again disrespecting the history of this company that so many, but her, try to uphold. Diamond Steele, Terry Marshall, Sarah Wolf… people who only just found their way to SCW, their incentive is to put out a statement to the entire world that they ain’t there to make up the numbers. Just imagine one of them Main Eventing Rise to Greatness, and some bigger names around these corridors having to watch on. You simply cannot underestimate the desire and determination these people must have, to make their way through the field and have their name forever instilled in history. I won’t be doing that; I won’t overlook anyone… but who will? See, whilst Josh has his eyes trained on me, desperate to ‘once again’ put me in my place, is he going to be watching someone like Terry Marshall who will be looking to dump a legend like him out of the reckoning and do something that will be remembered? I listen to Josh Hudson, and I don’t hear a veteran of this business, his voice crackles with desperation every single time he speaks, I heard it clear as day at Breakdown when he wouldn’t face me, so who’s to say others haven’t? Terry Marshall isn’t a newbie to all this; his experience cannot be taken for granted. A match like this, you CANNOT be focused on individuals, and ONLY what is placed in front of you. Josh SHOULD know that, he’s been here before, but it certainly looking like he doesn’t, or his old age betrays him, and he’s forgotten.”
 
Owen laughs, rolling his eyes.
 
“It’s a fool’s errand, absolutely no doubt about it. Gavin Taylor, up until recently one half of the tag team champions. Nicole Kinnick, on her day just about as dangerous as they come. Beard, the Television champion proudly repping that belt. Syren, Adam Allocco, and Tommy Valentine. FORMER WORLD CHAMPIONS, and yet all the UNITED STATES CHAMPION can talk about is me…”
 
Owen shrugs his shoulders in total disbelief, making the little boy and many others chuckle.
 
“I should be honored I guess that someone like him, believes he needs to use someone like me to maintain relevancy. I mean, the whole world knows full well that he shouldn’t be the United States Champion, I should imagine that rankles with him as well. But when you’ve got all these individuals gunning for the same prize as him, it’s next level stupidity. When you’ve got what, almost a third of the field that has yet to reveal themselves, you would have though Mr. Hudson would have a whole lot more to think about than just little old me. And yet he doesn’t, and that is detriment to him, no one else. And ultimately, it’s a show of disrespect towards the likes of Syren, Tommy and Adam, and seriously, he should know better. I’ll let them be the judge however, because Josh, and I address you directly now bro, when it comes to Taking Hold of the Flame our history means NOTHING to me. You Josh, are just another face in the crowd I must eliminate to get where I want to be. It really is as simple as that. And no amount of trying to make something out of literally nothing is going to change that. This one night, you are no more important than anyone else. That time will come no doubt, but not at Taking Hold of the Flame. You come after me though bro, I promise you I’ll be ready.”
 
Owen folds his sunglasses his eyes now having almost gotten used to the sun and places them on the collar of his Owen Lee branded tee shirt, pulling out a cap from his back pocket and shading his eyes from the sun with the peak instead.
 
“And that’s the thing, there are many people in this match that believe that they are the most important of person of all, no matter what others have achieved. You can hear it in their tone and once again it is such a foolish way of dealing with a situation such as this. I mean let’s face it, these guys on the ‘reserved’ list yet to show themselves, you could send yourself silly, musing over who it could be. David Helms perhaps? Lucas Knight? Regan Street? Minerva? Huge names with huge reputations, more than capable of winning the whole damn thing with one solid performance. We could end up dealing with Jason Zero, Matt Hodges, Hurse or Rachel Tatum Lee. That last one isn’t a hint by the way, I wouldn’t dare make a reveal like that and I certainly don’t have a clue. You stick any of those names in this match, and I’m not even naming ninety-nine percent of legendary people who could quite legitimately make their returns, we see shocks and surprises every year. Those kinds of names, that kind of stature would flip the dynamic on its head, and yet, there will be individuals in this match who STILL believe that it’s all about them. It’s cool though. You know one of the best things about Taking Hold of the Flame, other than obviously winning it? It’s the stills of people’s faces when the realization hits home that they are not as ‘great’ as they think they are, and their 100% guarantees having imploded. The look of despair, the arrogance having finally dispersed when they realize that their dreams have gone up in smoke for yet another year. That’s all well and good of course, that’s not really the most pitiful thing. No, the worst bit about it is they will be saying the EXACT same things next year, with no doubt the same result, and having learned precisely nothing. I get confidence in yourself; you’ll get nowhere without it. But making a 100% guarantee in a match like this is laughable. It’s embarrassing. And yet there will be many that do it, knowing that some of the biggest names in Supreme Championship Wrestling, guys that built this place from the ground up, could be about to enter the fray. Arrogance always comes before a fall. A legendary figure told me that, an ‘Icon’ if you will…”
 
He smirks, making it perfectly clear who he was talking about, the crowd certainly picking up on his meaning, Orlando’s name whispered so as not to interrupt Owen.
 
“And so many of us WILL fall. It is far from being a weakness to be able to recognize that. The truth is, accepting reality is a strength, it evidences that you are more readily prepared. When I draw my number whatever it may be, my chances will either increase, or decrease. That’s the reality. Whoever it may be is left when I enter, and who is left to come will also have a direct impact on my odds, and that’s reality too. Anyone who believes this is all in their hands is about to get a culture shock, because all you can do is play the cards your dealt and see where they fall and stay in the match if you possibly can, using every single attribute in your possession to make sure you survive. Because that’s what this match is. It’s survival. And if I’m nothing else, I AM a survivor. I may no longer have the exuberance of youth that I once relied on, but I am now a more rounded, experienced competitor that unlike some doesn’t take a single thing for granted. Will that carry me through to the end when someone like Sarah Wolf is looking to make a defining statement? Will it be enough when Alexis Quinne brings herself to the match, when I know full well how much this event means to her? Will I personally have what it takes to deal with the *cough* brutality *cough* that Konrad Raab will throw at anyone who gets in his way…”
 
Owen chuckles to himself and his shameless dig.
 
“Yes, I believe it will. No matter what Kimberley Williams believes. Or how much Katie Steward wants to reclaim her former glories. How long has she been looking for that now by the way? Polly’s, Penguins, Bears… we could have one of the most hilarious winners of Taking Hold of the Flame ever. That’s how unpredictable this match is. Stay alive… that’s the only way you maintain a chance of winning. So, if I’ve got to use my speed to stay out of the way of the older, slower guys like Konrad, Terry and Josh… I’m kidding Josh, keep your hair on fella… then that’s precisely what I am going to do, using that very same attribute to keep up with the brilliance of Alexis Quinne. If I need to use my experience in this kind of event to truly ‘enlighten’ Giovanni’s minion Sammy Thomas Davies, you get bet that I’ll be more than ready. If I’ve got to face the ‘exuberance’ of a Jenni Anderson, Amelia Stone, Diamond Steele, or Terry Marshall, all looking for that ‘statement’, you can be sure that I’ll match that with determination, desire and hunger.”
 
Owen shrugs his shoulders, not allowing the adrenaline to surge and his emotions to show.
 
“Simply put… that’s what I do. That’s why stepping into the ring with one of the greatest of all time in Syren will never faze me, even though throughout my time here in SCW she has consistently had my number. Going toe to toe with Tommy Valentine only serves to bring the hairs up on the back of my neck, such is his reputation and all that he has done for not just SCW, but for the industry overall with his wrestling school. Adam Allocco hates me with a passion; he hates my family… he’s always had a bug up his ass about us for apparently no reason. But I don’t step away from that challenge, I embrace it. Winning this match with individuals like that in it. Knowing that the standard could yet still increase…”
 
He shakes his head, almost in disbelief.
 
“It would probably be sweeter than when I won that World Title, that’s how important this victory would be. Anybody got a drink?”
 
Someone steps forwards and passes Owen an unopened bottle of water, Owen taking off his baseball cap and passing it to the woman with a wink of thanks. He then unscrews the cap and takes a sip, licking his lips that had become dry. Still holding the bottle, he continues.
 
“This is a match that will define the end of this season. Someone is going to emerge from that field as the sole survivor, and I’m going to do everything in my power to ensure that person is me.”
 
Owen takes another sip before placing the bottle on the floor.
 
“I’m doing this because first and foremost guys, I am a WRESTLER, and not some character in some cinematic epic. I entertain through my ability, and not through stories that seem like they were ripped from the 1980’s before the advent of CGI. Syren hasn’t been World Champion in a while now, so you can bet that’s a situation that is eating away at her. She won’t have time for games, she will be ALL business guaranteed. You can bet that Gavin Taylor will have far more sincerity behind his words and will drop at least of the comedic effect. Beard will leave an element of bluster in the back and bring his ‘A’ game, wanting to show that he is a true champion. Adam Allocco will be hell bent on proving that he isn’t some broken down drunk… yet again.”
 
Another grin from Owen brings laughter from his fans.
 
“THEY know exactly how this match works. They’ve been here, they’ve done that, whereas the new guys won’t. This match is difficult for us all, with so many moving parts, it’s even more so when you don’t understand or have a sense of the task you are undertaking. Ask yourself these questions, and I won’t name names, you’ll know who you are. Are you fully focused on Sunday the 5th of June? Is it the ONLY thing right now on your mind? If the answer to either of those questions is no, I’m telling you now you are in for one hell of a culture shock. How many of you will learn from that? In fact, scrub that, how many of you will still be around for THOTF 2023, when you realize exactly what you signed up for? Right now, you think this is like any other wrestling organization, when guys, respectfully, it’s not. You’re in the big leagues, and there is nothing bigger than Taking Hold of the Flame. You come through this; you’re set for life believe me. So please for God’s sake start acting like it.”
 
Owen puts his hands in his jean pockets, as the sun appears once more from behind the clouds, Owen once again putting on his sunglass.
 
“There is a reason that I have been spoken of as one of the favorites to win this match, that being that since I returned, I have shown that I haven’t missed a beat during my hiatus. Only Kandis has managed to beat me categorically, and unequivocally, as I have waited patiently for my opportunity to once again stand atop this business, having once again proven myself worthy… and able to be trusted by those that I once let down. I’m ready for that burden, far more so than I was a year ago, I’m ready to take that final step I couldn’t last year when losing to Ace Marshall. That was the biggest deal for me when I returned, not getting back to where I was but going beyond. As a human being I have achieved that, and now my career must follow in the same vein, by being better than I ever was. So although I accept, the odds aren’t great, and names such as Josh Hudson, Syren, Tommy Valentine and a plethora of others are bound to dominate the wrestling columns that will no doubt go into overdrive over the next few hours, in no way am I overawed by the occasion.
 
I was BORN for this occasion.
 
So, Josh make your empty threats, I don’t care. Allocco, disrespect my name and where I came from, it will have no bearing. Konrad, prove yourself to be just about the weakest ‘monster’ that ever walked this corridors, I’ll still focus only on what I need to do. In fact, you know what. No matter who the hell you are, discount me, dispute what I have said over these past few days, and it won’t make a blind bit of difference. After these past twelve months, the fact that I am even here is a victory… so winning the whole damn thing would be quite the cherry on the cake. Taking Hold of the Flame 2022 Winner Owen Lee… it has quite the ring to it don’t you think…”
 
He pauses, looking around what is now undoubtedly HIS crowd.
 
“And then Supreme Champion Wresting, who knows that the culmination of this season will bring.”
 
He smiles, applauding the people who took the time to listen.
 
“Will Owen Lee RISE?”
 
He chuckles to himself, steepling his hands and resting them on the edge of his nose.
 
“Right here, right now, no one can tell you the answer to that question, not even me.”
 
He kneels down so that he is level with the young boy, a cheer ringing out, the little boy clearly loving being next to his hero. Owen looks him straight in the eye, asking both him, and the viewers the same question.
 
“But it’s going to be a hell of a lot of fun finding out.”
 
He ruffles the boy’s hair again, as he gets to his feet, the fans applauding him, the camera continuing to roll to take in what is an emotion moment for Owen, and unbeknown to us all, almost overcoming him. He keeps his composure however with a deep breath, winking and then saluting the camera. He then stands with his fans, and it is on that scene that the footage cuts, Owen grinning from ear to ear.
 
 
 
 
[Image: 270041540-258425806375597-7033161467703002046-n.png]
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#24
Season 3 / Episode 2 / Taking Hold Of Her Enemies - Part 2
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#25
[Image: tbBT7sA.jpg]


Fort Worth, Texas. Friday 20th May. (Off-Camera)

Call me Konrad Raab, the sick individual who enjoys collecting blood, but not only do I want that, but I enjoy the look on these pathetic people's faces and see the shock of me tearing the living fuck out of people. But I'm more than just a wrestler outside of the ring, but also smelling at gasoline that get through my nostrils and my lungs, although tasting the lovely sight of my fleshes. SCW tried to remove them from my body, tried to remove the glasses in my body, tried to heal the fleshes of barb wire cut across me.

But instead, walking away was the best solution for dealing with psychical pain. I put my fist up and punched SCW staff for trying to remove fleshes of blood and glass pieces from my body because I wanted to feel psychical pain. Otherwise, I'd be in emotional distress, and that's the last thing I want. Showing off to my teammates and my Brad Rogers team my fleshes only made me feel better.

I'm already in my brown Snickers overalls because, boy, I was ready to do some practice and qualifying laps, especially losing that title to Kim was a fucking joke. I shouldn't have lost to Kim, and I most likely never respect her because I fear respecting wrestlers around me for fear of being hurt again. But that's for another day. I'm walking on the track with a couple of my teammates for five minutes, feeling the Texas Motor Speedway track, closing my eyes, and visualising the corners and the turns. Some people who think NASCAR is about going round in circles are idiots. They have no idea how much work it takes to be a star of this sport and a professional wrestler.

It has some cracks on the track and lots of markings of cars scraping the wall; that is always something I get told consistently to drive near the wall, but the fear of crashing is something I have, but I shouldn't; right? But being a part-time driver in NASCAR, I've never felt closer to death. I love situations where I could die, doing the two sports I love. The thrill, the adrenaline, the injuries and risking your own life, if only wrestling matches were always like your fear of dying, but you do it anyway. I never was afraid to die in any of my wrestling matches, not even the deathmatches; the steel cage matches Kim, and I were in because you'll survive.

After the five-minute track walk with my team without saying a word because I always want to visualise the electricity, the cheers the fans give me, or the boos sometimes, imagine the left turns I have to do correctly. Still, it doesn't fucking matter what wrestling and NASCAR fans react to me. I walk back to the garage, a man wearing a leather coat, leather trousers with red knife marks you get in prisons, the only friend in the wrestling business I have, with a thick Norwegian accent, happens to come to Texas.

Dakon Theron: "You know why I'm here, don't you?"

Konrad Raab: “Of course I do. I show you how I fucking feel."

Dakon Theron: "Not in front of everyone."

What, is he fucking stupid? Of course, I wasn't going to beat the living shit out of him in front of everyone. So instead, while the team got my Xfinity car sorted, we walked away from smelling that gasoline, the engine sound almost blowing my eardrum off when they ref the engines. When I leave the circuit with Dakon with a special pass we both have, or Dakon does, as everyone knows, I'm a NASCAR driver. We walked on the busy streets of Fort Worth; some people were wearing NASCAR shirts, even some wearing of me as a driver because NASCAR wanted to make money off me by selling merchandise, stupid snobs.

I walk from gasoline, engine revving in my ears to the sounds of people discussing random shit nobody cares about. Unless it's wrestling, NASCAR, or illegal street fights related, nothing interests me, apart from my fiancee giving birth to my kids soon, but that's beside the point. We arrived at the outside of a golden five-star hotel with a blue circle labelled as Comfort Suites. Nothing to be angry about at first. Until we went inside of it where everything, but some equipment was gold, making me close my fist with my left hand, squeezing it tightly, gritting my teeth, having red rosy cheeks. Being completely red, knowing it reminded me too much of what I lost overnight.

Konrad Raab: "Thanks for reminding me of last night."

Dakon Theron: “Oh, no problem at all.”

Konrad Raab: "Oh yes, it's so funny, isn't it, you piece of shit."

Standing there arguing with Dakon in the lobby wasn't going anywhere, and I had to hold it together because I wouldn't get arrested for fighting in a public place where everyone could see it. But seeing gold plastered everywhere only fuelled my anger up so much more, even my body shaking entirely. We took the stairs because it was good exercise, walking rapidly up them. We reached the fifth floor when Dakon shouted stop. Dakon directed me far away from the stairs and the elevator. It was the farthest from all the hotel rooms in the hotel.

Dakon unlocked his hotel room door, and then as soon as it closed, with all the anger I still had from what happened last night, all the fleshes of blood trying to remove from me. I screamed from the top of my lungs because Dakon was also a friend I needed to let my anger out on and started punching his face with so much anger I needed to let out on him with the title loss. I screamed in anger, almost to the point of me in tears because I was so pissed off, and it was good because I needed to let out aggression.

Konrad Raab: "How does it feel now, you son of a bitch? You think it's funny to bring me to a hotel and remind me what I lost last night, does it?"

I decided to undo my overalls and show Dakon the extent of my injuries, some I was proud of and take great joy because of how much psychical damage takes away from the emotional pain that spills around my head. I still didn't stop beating him with my fists and my feet, battering him, and I loved it; it was the best beating I had given to someone outside the ring and illegal street fighting. Vicious kicks I give to Dakon to his ribs, giving him punches to his head that cause a cut to his forehead with blood dripping down on him. Then my body gave up, collapsing to the carpet floor.

Dakon slowly got up after the beating I had done on him because it was weeks worth of anger or at least what I hear with his feet walking around, standing over me, only I got my legs to turn to him and trapped his left knee to him on the ground, so he doesn't act as he won over me. Dakon looked at me with the marks on my body.

Dakon Theron: "Holy crap, what have you done to yourself?"

I slowly come to as I move a bit to put words to his mouth angrily.

Konrad Raab: "Enjoying my life, that's what."

Dakon shook his head, tutting at me as if he should know I do this by now.

Dakon Theron: "You know I'm not just on about last night; look, those marks, they aren't wrestling ones to me. They look like knife marks, seriously, Konrad."

Konrad Raab: "Yes, seriously, because I feel better when I cut myself with a knife."

Dakon Theron: "The whole collapsing stuff, it felt like you've been so angry all the time that your body gave up. That's a serious sign of heart problems coming along because of this such filled anger."

That was the last fucking thing I wanted to hear, to seek help for my psychical problems, in any capacity, especially since the doctor has seen through my heart. Although it's at high risk, not as close as Dakon makes it look as I managed to punch his head a lot more until, once again, my body forced me to stop. I close my eyes for a few seconds. I woke up and still shouted with anger.

Konrad Raab: "Do you honestly think heart problems cause it? What about the nightmares every night? What about my past and current shit I'm going through makes me fear sleep at night. I can't sleep, alright, especially when I'm consistently worried about doing something bad in my sleep to Luiza."

That was the thing that scared me the most, hurting Luiza, having nightmares with her sleeping by my side. I loved her to death, more than anyone I've ever loved before, because she was so caring, understood and treated me like a person, compared to Fizz walking all over me, treating me like a piece of garbage, to a point she slept with Ian, that bastard. I would lose my fucking mind if I were to lose Luiza, and I'm thankful she's by my side because god knows what I can do to myself. I'd be in prison or dead by now. Dakon nodded his head as if he knew what I had.

Dakon Theron: "You have Rapid Eye Movement Disorder?"

Konrad Raab: "Yes. I don't know how to tell Luiza that without losing her."

Dakon Theron: "You need to tell her, Konrad. Ask her if she has seen you act the acts you claim to have you fear doing. If she says she had seen you act your dreams, you need some help to combat that."

Konrad Raab: "I used to get them once in a blue moon, but they are happening every night now. More since I've reached my mid-fifties. I get to put on tablets, but they have no effect whatsoever."

That was hard for me to break down to Dakon like this heck, I can't even tell my friend and teammate Kyle Young about this, as much as I want to say to him. I broke down in tears for the first time, especially after my therapy with Aaron last week. He told me I had consistent Rapid Eye Movement Disorder while being locked in an Asylum some nights before and after my matches in the Asylum Wrestling Society. I was on my knees, begging like my life was on the line with that, and I had no idea what I would do after losing the Underground title.

Dakon Theron: "I never expected you to cry like this. But if sleeping with Luiza is so much for you, you need to tell her. I'd be there to tell her if you want. After taking Hold Of The Flame with me there for support, we'll tell her. I had no idea your dreams spiralled from that."

Konrad Raab: “Well they do. I appreciate that because I don't know how I can cope telling Luiza about this without losing her. Fuck sake, Dakon, she's my fucking life."

I slowly got myself up to my feet as I was exhausted, but I couldn't go and sleep with her around me. I want to have a peaceful night's sleep with Luiza in my arms, but I can't. Dakon snapped his fingers at me.

Dakon Theron: "I tell you what, you go and sleep here, and I'll watch some TV on the sofa, alright? You don't have to worry about me being hurt in your sleep."

Konrad Raab: "Can you text Luiza for me because I know she'll be worried about me?"

Dakon nods his head at me as I give him my mobile phone before I walk with my head down to sit on the bed, providing I get my shoes and overalls off. I got into Dakon's bed and slept hard. Five hours later, Dakon shook the bed for me to get up. I woke up without fear for the first time since the diagnosis and never felt better and brightened.

Dakon Theron: “Man you needed that.”

Konrad Raab: "I did. You have no idea how safer I was to sleep without worrying about Luiza being hurt. Did she say anything?"

Dakon Theron: "She said alright. I told Luiza you need to talk to her about your sleeping habits after the rumble due to your focus on it, and you need nightmares as fuel to your success."

Why is Dakon so bright? I didn't even think of that, the nightmares fuelling my success to being in the rumble, but the problem was the demons were affecting my fear of sleeping with my fiancee, but this was something new altogether. The intense nightmares, the fear of people that caused my life a living hell targetting me. I felt trapped and in no way out situation, but I loved Dakon's idea so much that I hugged him with an evil smile.

Konrad Raab: "Now I make business happen on the track."

I slowly got out of bed and used the bathroom for a bit. I came out of the bathroom and went over to my overalls and racing shoes, which I put on rapidly and left Dakon's hotel room and his hotel to go straight to the track. I put out a performance of my life, or at least I aim to do that today before I go back to my lovely fiancee and tell her all about my day of being out on track, smelling that excellent gasoline, the engines revving and pushing limits on the car. I was nearly on top with only my teammate Tyler in front of me for qualifying for tomorrow's race.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Chicago, Illinois. Wednesday 25th May. (Off-Camera)

I was fast asleep in bed because I had been busting my ass all day in the gym yesterday for almost four hours as I had lots of sleep all of Monday due to racing at Charlotte for six whole hours and not enough time to sleep. Luiza and I made love overnight regardless of how exhausted I was, but I would do anything to make my girl happy, except for me doing illegal street fights and hated me cutting myself every day. However, as I woke up, barking consistently. I shrugged it off and went back to sleep at first because I thought Luiza Doe was watching a dog show, she loves dogs, and I got her like dog ornaments in the past, but they started again and got louder.

Konrad Raab: “What the fuck?”

I mentioned quietly not to cause attention to Luiza and watch her dog programs,  but the sound was like there was an actual dog in our home. So I put on my FC Koln shirt because they would play in Europa Conference League qualifiers pretty soon; so proud of that team. You can bet my twin brother Markus "Lord" Raab and myself will be going to the games in Europe again if FC Koln makes it through to the Europa League. I also put on some boxer shorts and some tracksuit trousers. I go in the bathroom and do my own business like washing my face, cleaning my teeth and putting deodorant on. Then I lined over the metal bar, looking around for Luiza, but I couldn't find her.

Konrad Raab: “What is that noise?”

Luiza came towards me, or from downstairs, being sexy as she was pregnant with our twins being born into this world pretty soon, something nobody knew anything about in wrestling, and I aim to keep it that way. It's a good thing nobody in Supreme Championship Wrestling watches NASCAR, or at least not to my knowledge. I heard that barking again and saw the television was off. I don't recall any houses close by.

Luiza Doe: "Good morning to you too."

Konrad Raab: "Oh, I'm sorry, just I'm trying to god damn sleep, and the noise woke me up. No point going back to bed now."

Luiza Doe: "I'm glad your up because I want you to come downstairs."

Konrad Raab: "Will that explain what I've been hearing?"

Luiza Doe: "Maybe, maybe not. You have to wait until you come downstairs."

I shrugged my shoulders, not that I had anything better to do, as I went to my bedroom for a bit and placed my mobile phone in my pocket, never knowing who would ring or text me from it. Then I went downstairs with Luiza, looking at me as if I had done something wrong, but she turned with a smile on her face, not that I was impressed being woken up with noises I had never heard apart from TV before.

Luiza Doe: "I love you giving me so many gifts lately and showing how much you love me, apart from when you cut yourself and when you do these illegal street fights, putting me in danger because of what you do."

Konrad Raab: "Luiza, I'm getting the whole illegal street fights to be legit here soon. I need to go out today and sort that out before we go to Breakdown."

Because so far, I had everything packed, and so did Luiza, knowing we'll go to St Louis, Missouri and do shit there, considering I wasn't in the mood to show up to talk about a bullshit loss I had last week on Breakdown, but it was how it is. That's not important, however, as Luiza gave me a slap for talking about wrestling and violence. I lick my lips, knowing I like her slapping me to get my attention.

Luiza Doe: "Shut up about violence for one minute. Now I want you to understand something; what you hear is something you'll appreciate. I brought this out of my own money, but it's for a good reason."

Konrad Raab: "What else am I supposed to do with my life without you around?"

Luiza Doe: "That's why I wanted you up so you can see what I brought, something you must do a lot more in public. Come outside and see what I mean."

I shrugged my shoulders, despite luckily being fully dressed, so I put on my outdoor shoes as I refused to go out with my socks on and then I stepped outside and saw a kennel. Suddenly, I discovered what I heard was barking from my garden. A brown and black dog, running around, barking, being energetic. All I could do was shake my head because this was something I didn't want. I love animals, but this wasn't the correct way to handle my situation.

Konrad Raab: “What the hell? How are we meant to take care of this dog? We're not at home most of the week."

Luiza Doe: "Don't worry, I got someone to take care of the dog while we're away. But that's not the point."

What was my fiancee thinking, buying a dog? I was not impressed as I folded my arms, grunting at my disgust. Especially how I'm out racing every weekend, barely at home apart from a few wrestling matches. I shake my head, and I know Luiza wasn't done, but I have no idea what to think about this.

Luiza Doe: "This English Mastiff-month-old male dog, Frankie, will be a part of our family for a long time, whether you like it or not. I don't recall anyone I've met around here; you've gone out on your own and seen you not be a piece of garbage. Let people see you have a caring side. It's the only way to show how I want you to be happy and be kinder to people."

Konrad Raab: "Crying yesterday of having to show respect to Kim was hard enough. But for me to go out in public to show my human side? Buying a dog behind my back? I don't want people to see how soft I am."

Luiza Doe: "Well, I do, and I'm tired of you going out and telling me you've been out fighting. I wanted to surprise you. This is your opportunity to go out and do things beyond violence-related, beyond me and your kids related. Just look at Frankie; he's whimpering because he knows you don't give a fuck about him."

Truthfully, I don't because I have no interest in taking care of a god damn dog that could be disruptive to my home; it made me sick of Luiza wanting me to be human in public. I didn't even want to touch Frankie, so I went in the house and let Luiza deal with him as I didn't want to be walking a god damn dog out in public, stopping me from being a violent maniac. However, I went into the kitchen, got a sharp knife out, and cut myself. Luiza with concern and tears on her face and Frankie whimpering.

Luiza Doe: "I'm sorry, Frankie. I thought Konrad would've loved you, but he's being extremely stubborn, mainly because of a rumble match he has coming up. Konrad needs love outside of me, his kids and his family. He needs someone like you to talk to when he's alone when I go to college. Most importantly, he has no idea that me buying you will improve his mental health, something Aaron suggested for me to do to make him happier. I guess I was wrong."

Was I wrong to be mad to get something I didn't want? No, but I didn't realise she was trying to help me simultaneously. After seeing blood pour from my body, I stopped cutting myself and tasted my blood. After she told Frankie she brought him to help me with my mental sickness, and I calmed down, I came back out and got on my knees and gulped due to the fear of me having to go out in public and walk the dog now. Rather go out and fight with the rage I have in my head and my sick mind. I only want to hurt people to make myself feel better. Luiza looked at me while Frankie whimpered because of how I treated him. She had stuff for him on toys; I even saw a dog food and drinking bowl in the kitchen, even a dog flap, large enough for a human to go through; it seemed Luiza had all these plans, and I blew her off.

Luiza Doe: "What, did you hear all of that? I hope so because this dog will help all of that horrible son of a bitch."

She was right to say that because I was a horrible son of a bitch, but what Luiza didn't realise was something I had yet to communicate with a large gulp, shaking like a leaf with my entire body and a pit of heart pain because of how disgusting I was. However, anger is a form of protecting myself when I'm sad as I hug her with Frankie, still unsure of me.

Konrad Raab: "I'm scared."

Luiza Doe: "I know you are. Frankie will help you combat your fears of being human in public and improve your anger to be happy. Now, I want you to walk the dog without thinking about or wanting to beat people up and hurt them."

Konrad Raab: "Fine."

It wasn't a satisfactory fine because now I got the responsibility of taking care of something I didn't want, but it was something I needed. I couldn't argue with Luiza, even if Aaron and her discussion about getting me a dog behind my back was shitty. All I want to do is go and beat the living shit out of someone, especially on Breakdown. Luiza gave me a ribbon dog-collar leash that NASCAR was selling of my teammate and friend. I'm still angry about this being hidden behind my back, especially when Luiza looked at me with anger to stay after letting go of hugging me.

Luiza Doe: "Well, you not going to give Frankie a stroke or talk to him? Have a heart."

I crouched down and did the one thing I had to do, stroking Frankie to quieten and patting him. I was still not happy, but I knew I had to be because it was a present Luiza had given me to help with my mental health. So I went into the house with Frankie, holding on to the dog-collar leash as Luiza threw a small red rubber ball towards me. She also came in and gave me some dog waste bags as well. I placed them in my pocket as Frankie was happier, despite still sussing me out.

I grabbed the keys from the key bowl in the hallway before I left home with Frankie, and we went to a local park which is fifteen minutes from where I live. When we got there, I took him off the leash and ran around while Frankie chased the ball while throwing a ball from a far distance. When I stopped playing and called Frankie's name, he came over to me and jumped on me.

Konrad Raab: "I'm sorry for ignoring you; just I was afraid of taking care of you. I will never shout or ignore you ever again. I will give you all the love in the world that I do with my children."

I patted Frankie as he suddenly accepted me as his owner, and he licked my face as we went on the grass, rolling around together, even if I was afraid of being human. I had to be responsible with Frankie now, even if I'm still getting used to it. A few minutes later, Frankie went off and did his business. After he did, I picked up his mess with a bag to scoop up the mess and placed it in a dog bin. I put Frankie back on his leash, and we walked back home.

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15 minutes later. (Off-Camera)

After I got home from taking Frankie out for a walk, I was all set to go to St Louis until all of a sudden, there was a vibrating, ping sound coming from my pocket, so I pulled out my mobile phone and saw it was a text from Supreme Championship Wrestling staff. So I opened the text that reads this.

"To Konrad Raab, we can't trust you coming to St Louis Breakdown show and beating everyone, staff and wrestlers included, due to your mental state. Unfortunately, you stay home until the rumble, where we expect you to attend and wrestle. On behalf of the Supreme Championship Wrestling staff."

Konrad Raab: “Those bastards.”

The bags were already downstairs from me bringing them earlier, and I suddenly had to undo everything. As I put my phone in my pocket, because I yelled with such anger, it raised the attention of Luiza and Frankie as he ran over and wrapped his body around my legs, feeling something trigger him. I gave him a stroke and a kiss on his head.

Luiza Doe: "What's going on?"

Konrad Raab: "According to Supreme Championship Wrestling staff via text, the bastards, they don't want me anywhere near St Louis, beating the shit out of wrestlers at the arena because they fear I would beat anyone in the arena and causing harm to them, deemed a threat to them."

Luiza Doe: "That's messed up. I want to see that text."

Frankie was all over me as I pulled my phone out of my pocket and showed her the text. Frankie whimpered, primarily because although he's still getting used to me, I know it's with him worried about me as I crouched down, and because I never really spoken to him in front of Luiza, I had to this time around.

Konrad Raab: “I'm sorry Frankie. I got angry because we were meant to go to St Louis, but the wrestling staff think I'll fucking hurt someone. I have no idea why the fuck they want to stop me from doing that."

Luiza Doe: "Konrad, you do not use swear words when speaking to Frankie. You're pissed off about not being allowed to attend Breakdown but think of this as a good thing. Sure, it sounds shitty, but at the same time, this is a good thing."

Konrad Raab: "Where is the good thing?"

Luiza Doe: "Sure, that doesn't make complete sense, but the reality is this is your chance to unleash your anger in the ring instead. In the rumble match because that's where you really should be doing all the violence."

I disagreed; this was to prevent me from showing up, so I don't destroy staff and wrestlers themselves being hurt because I was not to be stopped, and I was fuming, boiling with air, smelling like Frankie had done a shit on the floor, obviously he hasn't, but that's how bad things were for me.

Konrad Raab: "No, I'm not going to settle down, watching some pointless Breakdown show I can't be a part of, especially I know there's going to be a clusterfuck of a fight I can't be a part of because I'm too dangerous to staff and wrestlers themselves. After you've come back from college, I will beat the living shit out of illegal street fighters. I tell the organiser about finding an abandoned warehouse where illegal street fights can be sanctioned and still stick to the no rules shit."

Luiza Doe: "Since you are pissed off about the situation, I let you off, but just this one time, I'll let you get your anger out. But for now, bond with Frankie. He's had breakfast already; Frankie's treats and dog food are all out on the kitchen table. Other than tonight after you take Frankie for another walk today, no violence. Be a human, be kind to Frankie, who will get used to you and love you. He already loves me; we've bonded over the last two days. Anyway, I got to go to college; see you later."

Konrad Raab: “I love you.”

Luiza Doe: "I love you too."

Luiza comes over to me, and we kiss and hug tight before Frankie leaps up at her and talks to Frankie, saying he should be a good boy and I will take care of him throughout the day. Frankie woofs at Luiza, knowing he was more used to Luiza than with me. I watch Luiza pick up her bags and lunch before picking her keys up and leaving. It only left me to bond with Frankie. I go to put on the rumble from two thousand and nineteen because why the fuck not since it was the last time I'd been lost, having no idea what the fuck I'm going to do for my career. This time, it wasn't anything like back then because I was naive to the world, thinking everyone loved me when in reality, I was fucking hated.

Frankie suddenly sat on me, wiggling his tail at me while thinking of nothing but violence when I walked into the rumble match on Sunday night. I spent time working out at home with Frankie watching me, trying to do his exercises. The more I thought about moving away from the Underground title, the more I hated it, but at the same time, I had to because Kim and I can't be facing each other all the time. Still, I have no idea who I will eliminate or do in the rumble other than blast a few people with weapons and eliminate as many wrestlers as possible.

I fed him and gave him a few treats. I also took him for a walk so that he could do his business again. Then I had to cook for Luiza and eat dinner before I went out and cause chaos on the illegal street fighters I've been put to face, and I smelt lots of blood and tasted it from my victims.

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Chicago, Illinois. Friday 3rd June. (On-Camera)

It's back in my own abandoned home part where I always do my videos from. I think all of you have seen so many times before on what the abandoned home looks like so I won't go into detail, but the gold paint on the floor has almost gone now, dripping with more red paint. However, my blood wall of fame has gotten bigger. There's one name none of you knows I've been collecting blood from in another company, but another name entered on my list, Kimberly Williams. I even collected parts of her Wasley Penguin that are on the wall next to my blood wall of fame. Other than that, that's the only difference. The camera was on me and now I speak public ally to you all.

Konrad Raab: “That title loss, it was a fucking joke. Sorry, but it was. I shouldn't have lost to that thing, but congratulations to you fuckheads who kissed her ass to win the title because she's deemed more popular, but that's typical of you idiots who think Kim was better than me. Congratulations Kim, you managed to beat me once fairly and only once. Because the last two wins weren't legit. I even managed to show respect for you, despite me finding that difficult, but Kim did give me a beating and a violent one I wanted out of her. But anyway, now here comes the problem I have. All of you are well and truly fucked. Why? Because I don't have a particular target I like to beat and destroy with my own hands."

I feel nothing but hate towards everyone in the wrestling business, although I do respect Kim as hard as it was for me to admit I do, it was time for me to focus on the rumble match itself.

Konrad Raab: "Much less there is no special targets when you don't know who will enter when you walk into a rumble match. So god damn cliché of I will be the last person standing of throwing everyone over the top rope. I guarantee you that unless you enter number one or two, there's no way you'll be doing that because it's unrealistic. However, I still carry those wounds that Kim gave me because I practically beaten the fuck out of people that tried to remove pieces of glass or tried to stitch me up with wounds I got because I wanted to feel psychical pain, the pain I rather feel than the emotional pain I go through every day.”

I shake my head every year people say that because it's impossible to do. I look at the tin of paint in front of me and continue to look at the camera.

Konrad Raab: “I hope this idiot is in this match, but this Sammy Thomas Davies thinks being lonely is a bad thing? Really? You couldn't get better by yourself without some bullshit guidance from Gio? You lazy asshole. When I look back at my times with The Jackals, I was actually being held back from reaching my potential, now look where I am now. Where is Drake, Kandis gone? I think Tommy Valentine might be gone too. I was the only one who's still here and making things happen. I've done everything on my own titles wise, even if Lucas's brother came to help me win, but I didn't ask him to do it.”

I had to pause as I wore my anger voice out as I breathed in and out, wanting to hit a few points.

Konrad Raab: “I wasn't aware Lucas had a brother. I didn't care because I know Syren has had wins like that in the past. Everyone is sick and tired of you consistently wanting the big title when there are other titles around you that you could go for, but just like Kim with the Underground title, you're also stuck in a box as well, refusing to move on to the US, Adrenaline, Underground and TV titles. Why the fuck don't you care about those belts? You've been an eight-time SCW champ before, move the fuck on. Better yet, leave this fucking company because you've done all you've set out to achieve, there's nothing more you want to do and just get the fuck out of here.”

I always had to wonder why Syren wants to be an SCW champion once again so badly. It must get boring to chase and win the same title without wanting to evolve past that point. However, there is more than just Sammy and Syren in the match to focus on.

Konrad Raab: “Of course, there are champions in this match which personally shouldn't be because people like Josh Hudson and Cid are not champions. Kim might be doing something different, although not an idea she will deliver on. But those two shouldn't bother because they've already got titles, what use is it for them to be here? I got my eye on you two and want a perfect chance to fuck you both up. I preach on your talk about violence Josh. I preach on wanting to make other wrestlers bleed. But you do have what I want in the near future, while Cid is lagging around that Adrenaline title. He doesn't give a fuck about the belt at all. All he cares about is promoting some poxy helpful guide you have to pay to do. What a stupid idea when you don't help anyone at all.”

I spit on the floor, a glob of my saliva as I look at the red paint I love pouring on myself, the closest thing to blood I love and adore so much which speaking of violent wrestlers, asides from Kim and Josh, there was a couple I wanted to face too.

Konrad Raab: “Datura and Ducky are great violent wrestlers, but how come since they've been here, they've never challenged me to a wrestling match? For all the violence you portray in the world, you fail to challenge a bastard that wants nothing more than to put a beating on everyone around me. Bring your fucking best and bring your tits that I call a man's balls for bravery and beat the shit out of me with weapons because I'm not aiming to come into this match just to lift you fake violent wrestlers out of the ring because you don't come in and avoid facing me your entire careers. You beat the shit out of me if you want to get far.”

Then I started to pour red paint, although I wish and do think its blood I drip all over myself, there are some things I have to contain with myself without going overboard. I still love the smell of paint fumes, not as much as gasoline as I let it drip all over me.

Konrad Raab: “Don't you love Owen Lee having my name mentioned all the time? I've been living rent-free in his head this entire time because he has spoken a lot of shit about me while being a fucking joke while at it. Nobody cares that you got into the business the easy way. You can call me a fake monster all you want, but at least I'm not a generic piece of garbage that gets in wrestling via fake family members and you still can't figure out who the fuck you are and that will still apply after you've won. Go and fuck yourself you worthless rent living bitch.”

I fucking hated this kid and if I could go and put him on the injury list permanently, I would. I would make sure this kid's wrestling career would be done. Have such hatred towards him because he speaks so much shit that's not true.

Konrad Raab: “Owen's been lucky so far and maybe you could go and see your non-existent family one day or that's at least you have one because you've never had to earn anything to get here, everything was handed to you on a silver platter. Nobody cares about you Owen and I don't give a shit about weaklings that can't even master a violent streak in him. You're soft and will never be on par on the violent front. You're a fucking joke like you've been calling me all this time and the weakest man in professional wrestling.”

Once again, I pour blood or rather red paint on me, knowing I would love to smash Owen's fucking head with this tin of paint. Of course, I have no energy left to give to others who I clearly don't give a fuck, although I still always wanted that piece of the scum of a manager Lexy's head.

Konrad Raab: “I know, this rumble is about throwing people over the top rope with your arms and with the SCW title on the line. But I'm going to do things differently with this rumble. Instead of coming in and throwing fuckers out, I'm going to eliminate people by using weapons. I'll clock someone's head with a weapon to eliminate them over the top rope. When I win this whole thing, my SCW title match won't be a straight-up one on one title match.”

Maybe Kim's idea was great, but I had an even better one, even with the red paint, dripping all on the floor and the chair because I loved the paint on me, heck I loved cutting myself open. Although that does need to change.

Konrad Raab: “God knows how many of them we see every year with stale regular one on one main event with SCW title on the line wrestling because no challenger wants to get themselves out of a fucking box and put themselves in steel cage matches, deathmatches with explosions, hell in a cell or even the elimination chamber. I don't need the stupid idea of needing the Underground title to prove I'm a vicious son of a bitch, I can do it where Kim's too scared of releasing herself out of a box, I will go for the SCW title because I've only had one shot here and I think the whole earn a title shot is bullshit and outdated in this day and age of wrestling.”

I chuckled myself on the idea I had which was revolutionary and I laughed thinking about the clusterfuck beat down I saw. Seeing how weak and pathetic these idiots are.

Konrad Raab: “All of you were lucky I was banned from being on Breakdown last week because I would've given you a beat down that none of you would even get up from. You all were weak sons of bitches that couldn't even fight properly, except for Datura and Ducky. I would've given a beat down that nobody can get up from. But I did do fighting that night, in a legalised MMA fighting scene and enjoyed every minute pounding my opponent's fucking head in to collect his blood and that is the aim for this match, not just to win a poxy title shot, but to eliminate all of you with weapons in a creative way that Kim I doubt will even do to win the match.”

I had a few more words as I loved smelling blood on the windows and the walls, I even loved to hear screams, imagining me breaking their fucking bones. I licked my lips before finishing this off once and for all. I know what I said about fighting in a legalised MMA fight was bullshit, but who's gonna know if I'm telling the truth or not anyway?

Konrad Raab: “I will get that explosion deathmatch against Selena Frost who's been a fluke champion. Everyone is sick of her boring dominance that someone like me can knock a few pegs down because she's scared of being evil. Scared of bending the rules like a good puppet she is to Shaun Cruze because she's just as weak as that punk kid Owen Lee is. Nobody is more violent than me and nobody will end up being better than me. It's not about the last person to win bullshit, it's survival in my world and people will be so blooded and fucked up that you will remember me doing creative things in the rumble to be eliminated by a chair or a barbed wire on the plank of wood."

I took a bit more of a breather as I loved my idea of what I aim to do in the rumble and nothing will change the ideas I have.

Konrad Raab: "I will do anything to win that match and that will involve blood and pain you all will receive from me and then we'll see who the toughest bitch will be when I eliminate not everyone but those who deserve it and those I have left to carve their blooded skin up, pouring with blood, having their names next to the ones I've collected on my board. Prepare to be Iceinated by The Ice Blood when I'll be the last survivor of the Taking Hold Of Hardcore Flame rumble, beating the living shit out of all of you that deserve it with so much anger I have, I won't be able to restrain myself.”

There it was, the final ceiling as I got myself up, with an intense look on my face at the camera and pressed the button to switch the camera off.
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#26
OOC Note: This RP is being written in a new style I am giving a try. It is two differing story arcs, that the goal is, to eventually have intersect into one. GENESIS is considered way in the past, where EXODUS is more recent times, but not quite present day. The ultimate goal is to have GENESIS end at the beginning of EXODUS, and EXODUS end in present day, but both coincide with one another to tell the character's backstory and current iteration in a simultaneous basis. Basically it's the "young girl" and the "older girl." I think it should be easy to follow, but I could be wrong. It has been in my head since I retired Jake Starr, and I've had fun working on the videos to hype her coming. So I hope everyone enjoys this first RP that I've done in probably 20 years as someone other than Jake Starr!



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GENESIS: Chapter One

In the beginning, life was, for all intents and purposes, normal. Or at least, that's what I saw. I was a Midwestern kid, in the middle of a small Midwestern town, living with successful Midwestern parents. To the naked eye, we were an average family doing normal things. To my young eyes, I saw the same things. Growing up, I never knew what was right or wrong, good or bad, or what would be considered out of the ordinary.

You see, growing up in this town, most people knew most people in each class of society. If you were well off, you knew the others who fell into that economic specturm. We were well off for the standard of living, so it wasn't unfamiliar territory for my parents to be invited to dressy events, or even host them at our house. It also wasn't out of the ordinary for there to be a "designated area" for all of the children who got brought to these events. Me being naive and younger, I just went with the flow. It was what it was. But slowly over time, the galas and events became more and more hosted at my own house, and involving less and less kids. It began to be less and less people at the house. Again, I thought nothing of it. It was what it was. People would come over, and occasionally I'd join them for dinner before being sent to my room and doing what most kids my age did at the time, got online. I'd put myself to bed, wake up the next morning, the event would be over and everything would be back to as it normally was in the house.

It was life as normal.

Years went by with this kind of gradual diminishing routine of external events and more home-based ones, and I began to grow older as well. My curiosity began to pique as I aged because I wanted to know what the adults were doing. i wanted to be involved. Sometimes my parents would throw me a bone and let me stay up a little later, and I would entertain everyone who showed up with my randomness, breaking into song and dance on a whim, and just trying to be the center of attention. Something about preteen in the mid-2000s, breaking into a rendition of "Hello Dolly," made adults chuckle because it was so out of the ordinary. Truthfully, for me, I was just maturing at a rate faster than those around me because I was in this constant company of adults and people outside of my age. I started to not understand what it was like to be a kid in society, and I thought everyone was like me. I didn't know about sleepovers, hanging out outside, playing video games together, all I knew was the internet and these random adults who would come by, occasionally being ones I recognized. But for what it's worth, it was strangers, what seemed like, every other week in my house, and my parents acting like they had known them forever.

It wasn't until I got to middle school that things begin to take shape for me, and really change my perspective on life. I had grown up in this small town, and I knew kids from every elementary school around town. While I wasn't as avidly involved in extracurricular activities, thanks to the internet, and silly games online, I met a lot of people my few friends knew, and it would branch out from there. My social circle was a bunch of avatars, but ones I knew the actual voices of. In middle school, voices began to grow faces. I began to see the people I talked to online. The problem was I didn't look like them. I didn't act like them. Besides gaming with them, I would exercise and I was looked at as one of the more "boyish" girls in the school. In this day and age, I knew bullies, and I knew that the slurs would come my way. With the advent of YouTube, and my ability to learn to hurl insults back, people quickly realized that trying to insult my looks was a waste of time and effort. I usually could best them using self-deprecation, threatening to kick their asses in front of the cheerleaders they were trying to hook up with, or threatening them with the middle school whammy of a kiss from the "manly girl." Needless to say, I could handle my own.

But it was during middle school that I did start to notice a shift in the attitudes of those I thought I could consider "friends." I began to talk less and less with them, both at school, and online. I started to notice that the adults would even look at me as if I was standing out among the hundreds of students in the building, just like nobody else was there. I would swear I could see them whispering about me, pointing at me, and then gossiping about whatever the topic was. And for once, the uncomfortable nature of the situation was sitting in. This wasn't bullying, like I had seen it. This was grown adults. This was friends disappearing. This was as if I was slowly put on a raft, and pushed out to drift away alone, and I couldn't do anything to stop it. Middle school was becoming hell on Earth, and I had no say in it, or understanding of what was going on. And that's when it really took a turn for me because there was a day everything seemed especially bad. I felt more isolated than I had ever felt before. I felt like nobody was talking TO me, but everyone was talking ABOUT me. I needed someone who I felt I could trust, and I went to one of those few friends who I had been friends with for years, and just vented my frustrations.


Me: Ugh...

My friend seemed to be acting different herself. She seemed surprised to see me, as I leaned on the locker beside her, and groaned. I remember her looking up at me as I shook my head in disgust and frustration. Her eyes were different. Her look at me was different. But this was my friend, and I needed her more than ever.

Me: Do you know how ANNOYING it is to know everyone is talking about you, or looking at you funny, and you don't even know why? Like, seriously, what have I done to anyone? And then teachers are pointing and whispering like they're our age... UGH!

I remember shaking my head again and looking at my friend. She had been talking to another classmate of ours, who looked at me, then back at my friend, and back and forth again. I knew she was adding to my angst, but I figured she just wondered why I was all of a sudden there and complaining. My friend, after showing how uncomfortable she was, finally turned back toward me completely to talk.

Friend: Well you know why they're all talking about you, right?

This wasn't the response I was expecting. I was expecting compassion from someone who had always been a good and reliable friend. This was more confrontation, like I had done something wrong and I should know about it.

Me: No... Why should I? I haven't done anything to anyone...

Friend: No YOU haven't... But... You know, it's not my place... Nevermind...

Being brushed off by a friend wasn't something I was going to tolerate. I don't know what came over me, but a sense of anger and frustration took over. I wanted answers, and I knew she was withholding them from me. I remember watching her try to walk away, and I see my hand almost get a mind of its own and grab her backpack and yank her back my way. I remember injecting myself into her way out of the situation and staring her down with a look that, I at least felt, could kill.

Me: No... It's definitely your place now. You're my "friend," remember?

Friend: HEY... Don't say that too loud?

Now my confusion was even greater. What was wrong with being my friend? What about being my friend suddenly became such a crime?

Me: What? That you're my friend?

Friend: Yeah... Most of us have been told that's not OK anymore...

Me: Why? What have I done to you? You! What have I done to you? I haven't done anything! We've known each other for almost 7 years!

Friend: It's... It's not you...

Me: Then why can't you be MY friend?

I could see her look of resignation that she was going to have to tell me something I didn't want to hear. But I was relentless, and she could tell she was going to have to tell me, or stand there with an angry, hormonal, girl, staring daggers through her.

Friend: It's your parents...

If I wasn't confused before, I was now. My parents were brought into something I thought was my fault for losing friends. I looked around, and I saw people watching me, seeing what I was going to do next, and all I could do was glare their way, and make them turn around in fear.

Me: What do my parents have to do with it?

Friend: They're... You know...

She made this motion with her body that I couldn't describe in words. Her vague nature was making my blood boil more and more.

Me: Know what? They're my parents. You've met them. Others here have met them...

Friend: But our parents have told us they are different, and believe some things our parents don't agree with. So they've told us to not hang with you or talk to you.

Now I was even more confused, and before I could get answers, a teacher who had seen and heard everything interjected and my friend was able to run off before I could get more answers. This disturbed me. My parents were the reason I was losing friends? Why? What were they doing to my friends or their family? More importantly, why was everyone convinced I knew and was going to somehow cause problems because of it?

That night, it weighed on me heavily. I didn't know what to do, what to think, or what to even say. I felt more isolated than I had ever felt, and I knew I was a loner to begin with... But I always had my "friends," who had all scattered like cockroaches all of a sudden. My parents did, as they normally did, and made dinner for me and them, and we all sat and ate. I sat and kind of fiddled with my food while I ate, and I admit, it was almost like in a silly TV show, the way I moved food around trying to catch the attention of my parents. I wasn't making it overly dramatic, but after a period of time they could tell I wasn't eating as much, and had to inquire.


Dad: What's up kid?

I didn't bite my tongue. I wanted answers, and I wanted to know what was going on.

Me: Dad, are you and mom "different?"

Mom: What do you mean?

Me: I was told today I couldn't have friends because you two have beliefs others don't agree with...

I remember this moment as if it were still happening. Mom looked up at my father and I could tell they knew what was going on. I knew they knew what everyone else, but me knew. But because they were my parents, I also knew they wouldn't give me the straight truth.

Mom: Well sometimes, some families have different beliefs than others. We have our beliefs, and if anyone may think those aren't common or the same as theirs, they may try and make it out to be bad or evil. But I will say this, your father and I are neither bad nor evil. We are simply your mom and dad, and we we live our lives by our rules. We don't live it by how we are told to by others, you know?

Dad: Your mom is right, kid... We may not be a conventional family, but we are a family nevertheless. This is the age where things are just going to seem like they change, and it's not your fault, and in the end will be OK...

Mom: Exactly...

While this explanation didn't answer anything, I decided I would start to do my own reconnaissance, and hopefully get my own answers. Several days later, we had the same dance. We had new guests over, and after dinner and a few rounds of me showing off, I was told to retreat to my room. I wanted answers, and I wanted to know what happened after I went to bed. This night was a bit different and one I will never forget. After a couple of hours in my room, playing a game online, I decided it was time to try and see if I could get an idea as to what was going on. I cracked my door, and I immediately could hear the voices and laughing between the group. It sounded about as boring and mundane as I expected, but I was not deterred because at the worst, I could blame it on not being able to sleep, or hearing something outside. I begin to creep toward the area where the group was, and what I saw when I peeked around the corner was something that told me everything. As I got to the precipice, I looked around the corner of the room and saw what I never expected. My mom, kissing another man, and my dad kissing another woman. The two of them in the middle of this other couple, and two other pairs swapping partners beside them.

My eyes went agape.

What was I seeing?

I thought my mom and dad were to only kiss one another, and here they were kissing people I had never seen before. I couldn't wrap my head around what I was seeing, and instead of continuing to watch, or being caught for that matter I turned and ran back to my room and quietly closed the door. I jumped into my bed, and threw the covers over my head. The whole night, what I saw replayed, and I knew there would eventually be some kind of confrontation as to the truth. I knew tonight wasn't that night, even with the sounds and noises I heard coming from adjacent and close-by rooms. I realized these were the norms I had gotten used to, and now officially seen with my own eyes, and I knew at some point I'd have to understand what is going on, and why it is impacting me as much as it is




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A woman walks in the dead of night, down streets dimly lit by the occasional street lamp. Extra light periodically illuminates her tall figure as the rare passing car drives by. She wears a dark hoodie, doing her best to blend into the night, but everyone can see her piercing blue eyes with any beam that crosses them. She walks with pace, occasionally looking over her shoulders on the off chance that she is being followed, as she knows there are many who want to find her. But whilst this concern flows through her body, she knows she's being watched by a camera, one looking to pick up her words, and find out who she is, and why she's chosen the path to "Greatness" that she has.

... In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light. And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness. And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And the evening and the morning were the first day.

And the evening and the morning were the fifth day. And God said, Let the earth bring forth the living creature after his kind, cattle, and creeping thing, and beast of the earth after his kind: and it was so. And God made the beast of the earth after his kind, and cattle after their kind, and every thing that creepeth upon the earth after his kind: and God saw that it was good. And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth. So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them. And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth.

Dominion... An idea that one has authority over another, be it something considered, by all means, "equal," or otherwise "inferior." It's an idea that has given people so much greed in this world, and some much blinding desire to believe they are better than someone or something else. Be it man over animal, race over race, or moral code over moral code. Everyone in this society has been primed to believe that they are somehow better than someone else. And why? Many look at it from the religious aspect. They cite it as the moral basis for their superiority, but yet, never stop to think about what they are actually suggesting. They're suggesting that someone, someway, there are people in this world who walk like them, talk like them, and are yet different in a way that puts them as a lesser being. This is the world in which we live. This is the world in which I have lived for the past few years. I've watched as a bunch of entitled, perverse, and rich, assholes take advantage of others all for their own personal gains. And while this may just sound like politics as usual, this isn't a political organization that I have had to run security for, no, it's a bunch of grown ass adults, who have thought their deepest, darkest, and most intimate secrets, were kept in some compound in the woods.

Their ignorance is breathtaking.

Having watched this behavior for years, I was finally given a reason to open my eyes and see what I, too, was blinded by the dominion of others. I was a pawn in a game that, in truth, I could see in front of my eyes, but didn't want to believe. But it was when I saw the treatment of the one person I took an oath to protect, that the blinders were lifted. It was the treatment of her, The Oracle, that made me realize everything I had been "protecting" and standing watch over for years, was all a sham. Everything was about power. Everything was about control. Those who were acting prophetic didn't know that it was through their abuse, and a lot of luck, that they're fortunes grew. But then they made the mistake, and I was freed. I still was cursed. I was still known by a pseudonym, and a Scarlet Letter I carry as a burden and a reminder to the fact I played a role in this. I wasn't a name, anymore... I was, and am, The One.

The One stops as she reaches a small bridge overlooking a spillway, filled with recent rains and a slight sound of a flow beneath her feet. She pauses and turns, leaning on the railing, and continuing to speak, knowing she is being heard.

Many will not comprehend why I just don't shed the moniker of The One, and go back to my original, given, name. I don't expect them to. I don't expect people to feel my pain and my burden. But I do expect to one day shed it, and feel as if I have atoned for my sins, and brought forth some sense of redemption to my story. It's what has led me down a path I've never walked. Not just a path of combat. I've walked that lonely road many times. I've suffered pain. I've inflicted pain. I've ruined the lives of many. Not necessarily by choice, but by force and expectation. I was expected to ensure nobody crossed me or those who were in charge of me. If anyone tried, I was the muscle. I was the enforcer. So confrontation doesn't scare me in the slightest. But that's not professional wrestling. Where I come from, there is no structure, only chaos. There are no rules, just outcomes. It's the world in which dominion over others proves to be the focal point over anything else, by any means necessary. It showcases evil, selfishness, and the moral lows people will sink all for the thrill of seeing someone else in pain. Professional wrestling, however, combines the physicality of combat, with the mental need to know the rights and wrongs, and most importantly, the need to adapt to a changing and differing environment. It's not always "your way or the highway," no, it's the you versus the rules and reality. You don't get to move the goalposts, but instead, have to adapt to your surroundings. It's a true test of physical and mental preparation. And it truly separates those willing to do right by others, versus those wanting to impose their will, and their dominion upon you.

That is where SCW comes into play for me. That's why I have been direct with my interjections into events. Taking Hold of the Flame is an event where it opens the floodgates to anyone and everyone who feels they want to test themselves in a form of chaotic combat, but still be forced to mind certain P's and Q's. It allows for some rules to be bent and broken, while others remain rigid. It's as if it is the perfect avenue for someone with no background, no pedigree, and no history to walk in, and make a name for themselves. It's as if, it called to me.

Now admittedly I am no fan of prophecies. While I acknowledge her as "The Oracle," it, like my pseudonym, is just that. I don't foresee a prophecy bringing The One to Taking Hold of the Flame or Supreme Championship Wrestling, but what I do see is an opportunity. I see a chance for me to do what I feel is necessary in order to begin my, pun intended, "Rise fo Greatness." I have stood on the edges of Hell and watched as those who frolic in its evil dance around those who get suckered in by the "fun" and "excitement." I protected those who leeched on the weak. And I have to do better, and better, and better with myself to ever have a hope of becoming a shell of the woman that I could be in my life because ALL I have known in adulthood is this constant barrage of violence and evil. I've never had the opportunity to do right by anyone, but her. And this is my chance to begin that process. I have a chance to walk into something I don't know. I have a chance to walk out and be someone everyone just pushes to the side and ignores, until they find out what I am about. I am about opportunity. I am about finding those who have done the SAME THING that I have watched others do, and finding their exploits. Everyone has them, including me. Nobody is perfect, and that's where I believe I carry a potential advantage because most, if not all other combatants are walking in with knowledge of pro wrestling. They "know the ropes." They have been confined into that ring and become accustomed to knowing where they are at all times, and knowing who is around them, for the most part. I have none of that. But what I have is an awareness to the fact that I'm not as prepared and have to be willing to change my perspective, change my focus, and change my game plan on a whim. This is not my type of fight where it's disorderly conduct, anything goes, chaos. No... This is organized chaos. This is something I have to be able to adjust to.

So ultimately, why? Why pro wrestling, and not something like MMA? Why not something more along the lines of the cock-fighting type of background I am accustomed to? It's because in MMA, there is always an element of luck, and always levels of respect. Things are much more stringent. Wrestling, people want to exploit the rules. They want to game the system. They want to feel they are smarter than the rest in order to say they are superior to another. They are willing to cheat, steal, scratch, and claw for what they WANT, and still not be satisfied and want more. Pro wrestling, SCW, it's all fueled by ego. It's fueled by what I have had to watch corrupt many, and if I want to earn my way back into the good graces of society and become someone who isn't known by a badge of dishonor, then it's time for The One to walk into a situation where she can begin to take out that evil, once again, from the inside, out. My plans, my goals, they're simple. It's not about wins or losses or championships. It's about rooting out the corrupt and disgusting human beings who have been showing the world that it's OK to act like them in order to get what you want, as long as you don't get caught. It's about turning their game, their plots, their strategies against them. It's showing them that there are those who can fight that same battle, but throw it right back in their face, and expose them as the true cheat.

The One turns her body and faces the camera for the first time, lowering the hoodie, and showing her full face, complete with the mark over her eye, symbolizing she is "The One," from whatever past she has.

Also, I stand here and I think that I also look at this as a different type of opportunity than everyone else. For everyone else, it's a meal ticket. It's a golden ticket. It's a free pass to the biggest event of the calendar year for SCW, and it's a chance to win a shiny gold belt. But what about after that? What about beyond Rise to Greatness? Why does everyone make this match about one night, and one night alone? Why does an event that, arguably, puts you in a much more impactful light, have to only culminate in one night in the future? That's where I see this much differently. I don't look at Taking Hold of the Flame as a one-stop shop, toward a quick freebie chance at Rise to Greatness. Why? Because in order to get there, you have to have the masses, everyone who has come out of the woodwork, and decided to try and resurrect their career, lose. You have to be the one who stands tall over thirty-some-odd others. You have to set yourself so far apart from the rest of the field that JUST looking at Rise to Greatness is being short-sighted, and fucking greedy. There's so much more to do, if you win. There's so much more promise and good that can come over you walking away from Taking Hold of the Flame having bested everyone and their dead wife. But nobody thinks about that. They are focused on the shiny object. They're focused on greed. But I don't care. It's not about the World Championship for me. It's not about finishing in the top 2, top 5, or being the first out. It's about proving that there has come a point in Supreme Championship Wrestling, and quite frankly, the World, where someone has to begin to begin an implosion of what we see today. Someone has to be the one to burn it to the ground, so SCW can begin to truly Rise to Greatness in a new era.

So why not me? Why not a nobody, a person scarred with a past that has led me to lose my own identity? Why can't it be someone who just walked in, destroyed the status quo, and began to create dissension among the ranks and cause the truth to be exposed? There's nothing saying it can't be. There's nothing saying it won't be. But win or lose SCW will be faced with a path of internal strife that it has never seen because it needs it. It needs to have someone come in, get rid of those who just want to hold others down, hold others back, and say they're the better performer than everyone else.

Greed always topples great empires. It's how the empire rebuilds after a rebellion, and how they view the martyr that struck the first match. How will SCW react to "The Flame" not just being taken, but kicked to the ground Mrs. O'Leary's cow? While I don't believe in prophecy, I'm known to hedge my bets... And I think it's safe to say, if I were to bet, when the embers finish smoldering, when the smoke clears, and when the ash settles, there will be more than two truths in this world... Death... Taxes... And The One!

The One slowly turns her back to the camera, and lifts the hood back up over her head. She again begins to walk into the night, this time alone, and not followed by anyone, disappearing into the distance.



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EXODUS: Chapter One

My main role, outside of "security," in being The One was plain and simple, protect The Oracle. Protect the most prestigious entity that lived among the masses inside the compound. It was always her visions, her premonitions, her predictions, that brought the patrons more and more of exactly what they wanted. In some cases it was visions on finance, in other cases it was advice on their ways to continue to enjoy the wild sexcapades that have benefited them in being members of this compound. I took my role seriously. She was young. She was precious. She was innocent. She somehow had a gift that provided, honestly, for so many, and I wanted to see that gift cherished properly. So guarding her, I took that role more serious than anything because she deserved it. She brought happiness, honestly, to so many people, including my parents.

I knew that there was something about how she got these visions, but for the longest time, I would simply bring her to her seance room, allow the Prophets to enter, and once they were done, they would have their newest prophecy from her, and I would be instructed to take her back to her quarters. She was also a bit of an anomaly. She was just a kid, yet she was the reason that much of the financial success for these people. I didn't know her name. I wasn't allowed to truly interact with her, outside of instructing her to when her presence was requested, and asking if she needed anything on the way back. And then, out of the blue, as came with many of the perks of being The One, I was finally permitted into the seance room for the first time ever. I remember that day. I remember seeing all of the ornate drapery, and then I saw these two hulking guards that I wasn't familiar with. I was aware they came and went from the compound, but I wasn't aware they were involved with The Oracle in any way, shape, or form. But there they were. I watched as The Oracle slowly took her spot on a carpet, surrounded by candles, and this was the moment I saw what was really going on. The Oracle took a deep breath, and she looked up at me, with fear and sadness in her eyes. The two men set a pipe with some form of hallucinogenic drug in front of her, and told her it was time. She slowly nodded, and began to take hits. After she was sufficiently high, The Prophets walked in. They patted me on my shoulder and thanked me for everything I did, and knew that I would be curious as to how this ceremony took place, and why I was bringing this girl here. They felt I deserved to know.

This was their biggest mistake.

They quickly sat in front of her, and began taking hits themselves. Being adults, whatever the drug of choice was didn't affect The Prophets in the same extreme as it did a young girl. This male and female duo got themselves to a point where they felt no pain, and finally began talking to The Oracle, as all I could do was watch.


Male Prophet: How are you feeling?

Female Prophet: Yes, how is our little girl feeling?

The Oracle: Mommy? Daddy?

Female Prophet: Yes, baby... We are here...

I was completely taken aback. Not only were these two adults drugging a child to get their "prophecies," but it was their own daughter. I was in shock. I was disgusted. I was disappointed. I began to realize that everything I was being fed, everything I was "protecting," was not just a haven for rich, sex hungry, swingers, but was all based on the fact that the two leading this farce was doing so on the premise that they were, somehow getting wisdom from a true oracle of lore. Instead, they were drugging their own child. Their own fucking child! And then the other realizations began to set in. I was responsible as well. It wasn't just these two. It wasn't just The Prophets. I was The One, I was in charge of delivering and protecting The Oracle. I was the one who was responsible for the intimidation of others and making sure they knew who was truly in charge of this place. I was as guilty as they were, if not more so, because I blindly followed them and carried out all of their dirty work around town, around the compound, and anywhere else I was needed. All for their greed and desire to hold onto power. I wasn't just a pawn in their game, I was whatever chess piece you want to call the "strongest." I was that to these two pieces of garbage. I was their muscle... Their enforcer... Everything they wanted, and I followed blindly, thinking it was all for a good reason. Now, the blinders were lifted. Now, reality was sinking in.

As I sat there and watched, my mind began to race. What do I do? Why is this happening? How did I not see it? None of this was making sense to me. The Oracle was always the girl who could channel deities, but now I could see the truth. She was just made to get high and say whatever hallucinations she saw. She was being abused, and I had taken an oath to protect her, and I had to find a way to honor that. Especially now. I couldn't let this atrocity continue. So my mind began to think of options. How could I make these two lunatics stop using their own daughter as another piece in their evil game of chess? I knew things were going to have to change, and I was going to be the one to facilitate it.

That night, after their "seance" was complete and they got whatever information they believed they were getting from her out, she was, as always, released to me. But this time I began to see the process. They would grill her and try and get whatever information they believed she could have out of her. They wanted that next nugget to feed patrons hat they would bring in, and have me effectively extort because I knew who they were, what they were, and why they were there. I was their cog to tighten their grip on society so they could continue to be profitable and run their sex shop, and extort their patrons for whatever they could. But now I knew the game. I knew the gig. I knew what they were doing, and as The One, I knew what they knew and also what they didn't. I had the wherewithal to always keep track of the access I had, and how it could be manipulated, and when it came down to brass tax, I ran the entire joint. It got to the point they didn't care either because they thought they had brainwashed me into not having a soul, much like them. But they were wrong, and I was on a path to do the one thing I swore an allegiance to do... Protect The Oracle at all costs...

Once the seance had ended, and everyone had left, she was, as usual, released to me. She was groggy as always, but now I knew why. I also knew this was my opportunity to try and gather some of the intel I may not have, and I wasted no time.


Me: You're their daughter?

I will never forget the look in her eye as she slowly turned her head my way.

The Oracle: You didn't know?

Me: I was told not to ask... Why haven't you told me? I'm supposed to protect you?

The Oracle: Protect me? I am The Oracle, and many will try and use me...

She was still in a daze, and I could tell I wouldn't be able to get much out of her that night. As we arrived to her quarters, the man, whom I always assumed was like the guards answered the door. This time I asked who he was, and he wasn't hiding anything, and said "her brother." All along The Oracle and her brother had been effective prisoners on this compound, and I was the one holding them. I became even more disgusted with myself. i had been doing more evil than good all along, and the whole time, all I believed I was doing was keeping perverse locals safe from any big scandals. No, I was protecting two selfish people from being caught up in child abuse, extortion, and several other crimes. Hell, deep down, I knew I was just as culpable. But I knew there was one step I could take. I knew there was one avenue that could begin the process of ridding me of my guilt, my pain, and my suffering. And while that path is somewhat selfish, it does provide the help to others that is deserved.

Commence "Operation Conscience."

I knew if I was going to begin to right the wrongs I had participated in, and begin to find some form of clarity for my realizations, I would have to find out the facts even more so than I already knew. Several days passed, and I knew after that amount of time the drugs would be somewhat out of her system, and clarity would be more so than when I first spoke to her. I decided that my only action was to pretend she was needed, but get her alone, and find out the truth. I went to her quarters, as I always do, but after getting her, I began walking her down a different route...


The Oracle: Where are we going? The room is the other way...

Me: Hush...

What she didn't realize was I knew the coverage of every camera on the compound. I knew where was and wasn't seen at all times. Once we got to a secluded area in a corner of the compound, I turned to her and instead of looking at her with the typical menacing look that The One was known for, I looked down and felt so much guilt over me.

Me: Listen... I brought you here for a reason. I need answers...

The Oracle: Hey, I know you saw the whole thing the last time, but I don't even know what I do or say that keeps them doing it...

Me: No... Not those answers. You're the daughter of The Prophets?

The Oracle sighs.

The Oracle: Yeah...

Me: How did this all start?

The Oracle: My folks, one day, were getting high, which I knew they did, and I wondered why they always did it. I was always told drugs were not good. I sat behind the couch quietly, and the smoke happened to cloud around me long enough where I began to see things and start speaking. I don't know what I said, but after that they isolated us, and began having you take me to them and they'd give me the stuff to smoke. I'd blackout, and wake up back in the room with my brother...

The One cocks her head.

Me: Brother? The older guy isn't another guard?

The Oracle: No... He's my older brother. But he's stuck knowing even less than you, and I was ordered not to tell him anything or they'd hurt him...

After a couple more moments of talking, I found out that they agreed to stay quiet because of intimidation and being given everything they could want. She explained that their rooms were full of games, TVs, their favorite foods, and all they had to do is follow the rules that were set for them. She said the only downside was not liking how she felt the next morning when she began to detox. She said it would last for a few hours, and then life would go back to normal. She'd never remember anything, and she didn't understand why she was always called upon. She was manipulated, as was her brother, and the more and more I heard, the more I realized I could have stopped this long ago. But I have the chance now, and I know what I need to do. I told The Oracle I was finally going to live up to my promise to protect her, and now her brother as well, at all costs.

The first thing I had to do was figure out a way to ensure that The Oracle would never been "seen" again. I walked into her seance room on a day the "guards" were not at the compound. I remade the ares where The Oracle sat to have draperies, and cloth to obscure the view of who was behind them. I then waited for the two brutes to show up again, and explained that The Oracle had requested more privacy for her sessions, and also required her desires be met when she was in their presence. I gave them each stacks of cash, and told them that whatever The Oracle asked for, no matter how questionable, to be sure she got it. They tried to ask questions, which is when The One got to be The One, and The One runs the show. I was in their faces, asking them if they dared question The Oracle, and reminded them their whole paycheck relies on her having the visions she has. I played the situation up to the best of my abilities, and thankfully, I had earned enough of a reputation for them to believe what I was saying, and stop being as defiant. Phase one, was complete.

Phase two came in a dual form. Firstly, I took The Oracle, again, to the safest spot in the compound. This time she knew where we were going, and I had whispered for her to take notice of how we got there. I told her there would come a day when she got a signal, and would come to this location, clip the fence, and get away. I told her the cameras wouldn't see them, and there was a straight path to the highway. I promised there would be some form of transportation for her and her brother to get away, and then a day would come shortly after where I would find them, and continue getting them safely away. The second part of this phase was a little more dicey. I had to use my knowledge of the local community's drug population to find someone who could not only look the part of The Oracle, but wasn't so baked out of their mind where they could play the role as well. I began to scour the underbelly of society and met up with several people I thought fit the mold. I can promise that my luck was slim to none. Then I saw one recently arrested individual, who was arrested on meth charges, but was obviously not a long time user. I bailed this stranger out of jail and she looked at me confused. I made a deal with her that would guarantee her no jail time, and all of the substances she could want, if she could meet the qualifications I set forth. She proved to be a natural, and at that point, I waited another couple days for the guards to not be there, and then I snuck the woman onto the premises. I took her to the seance room, and got her safely positioned behind all of the curtains and gave her some of the hallucinogens left over. I told her that when the two guards appeared, she was free to demand anything she wanted. They'd take care of it.

And the day finally came where this whole calamity was to take place. The guards had been giving the fake Oracle whatever she wanted, and when I tell you this person was wanting everything, it isn't an exaggeration. But when The Prophets told me they were wanting another seance with The Oracle, I knew this was my chance. I informed them that she would be there by the specified time, but I was keeping my eye on some suspicious activity around the entry to the compound. It was always my "get out of jail free" excuse because that was always their biggest fear. So I went to the quarters of The Oracle and her brother, knocked, and left. I stayed in the shadows, watching, as her brother opened the door, looked down, and saw the pair of "snips" that had "fallen" out of my pocket. He picked them up, and said something, which brought The Oracle out to the door, and she immediately looks around. I see her grab the snips, then her brother by the collar, and begin going down the path I had showed her. Her brother was clueless, and tried to speak, and from the distance, I could hear him being shushed. The pair reached the corner, and this girl, for as young as she was, wasn't naive to what needed to happen and she began cutting the fence. She cut a hole, and pushed her brother through it. She looks around one more time, and I know I need to validate what she has done. I sneak out of the shadows, long enough for her to see me. I simply nod at her, and back away disappearing into the darkness. She looks in my direction and, through sign language, says "thank you," and follows her brother through the hole she made.

From here, I head back to my guard shack, and I move the cameras in a way where I can see the highway in the distance. I see the motor scooter left for The Oracle and her brother speed by in a blip, and at that moment, I know she is free. I know that, at least for now, she begins her life away from being mistreated. I knew that, in this moment, I had at least begun the process of keeping my oath for the first time. For the first time, The Oracle was safe. The Oracle wasn't being abused. The Oracle and her brother were now at a point where they could, hopefully, start to find there way permanently out of the evil world in which they were, effectively, imprisoned and held hostage.
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#27
GENESIS: Chapter Two

After seeing something I didn't understand, and couldn't process for as young as I was, I knew what I had seen wasn't normal. Was this the reason my family was looked at differently? Did my mom and dad not love one another anymore? For the rest of that holiday weekend I basically became a mute in my own house. Silence was all I could muster as far as sound went. They could sense something was wrong, but when they would ask if I wanted to talk about it, I would simply shake my head, and either eat, or go to my room. And I couldn't even tell anyone because, what if it wasn't why people thought my parents were different, and this made them think it even more? The next couple days at school were equally as awkward as the silence for me remained the same. I didn't talk to my "friends," and I didn't answer any questions when teachers would want student feedback. I just sat there, replaying what I had seen, questioning it, and still seeing everyone just glare at me as I walked by. I didn't completely tune the world out. I still did my homework, played my games, but as for interaction with others, it was not a priority.

My goal that week, was simple, make it through the week, and hopefully the weekend, and just hope that this event would clear my mind or I could find out how to confront my parents about what I saw. I didn't get to meet that goal. Throughout the week, the amount of eyes on me, the amount of whispering, it seemed to balloon more and more. I felt like I was becoming the butt of the joke of the school. Whether or not it was the case, I don't know, but by that day, I didn't care. As I walked by that same girl who I thought was a friend, but figured out she was also in on the gossip, she quickly turned away from me and toward her locker. I don't know if it was intentional. I don't know if she even saw me. But a side of me came out of me that I didn't know existed. I was enraged by what I felt was a showing of defiance, and I grabbed her by her shirt, at the shoulder, and spun her around. I pushed her up against her locker with one hand, using strength I didn't know I had. I stepped right into her face and glared right into her eyes. The rage inside finally had boiled, and the silence was finally broken.


Me: IF YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY, SAY IT TO MY FACE!

The silence in the hallways was deafening. My "friend," terrified. I looked over both shoulders, and I saw eyes. I saw shock from everyone around me. That rage, and that anger, continued to flow at all of those who were gawking at me.

Me: THAT GOES FOR ALL OF YOU! SAY IT!

In what seemed like an eternity to me, but was, in all actuality a matter of seconds, I feel my hand being physically removed from my friend's shirt by one of the members of the school administration, and me being the one who was physically being pulled in another direction. I was quickly pulled into the office of the principal who began to grill me as to what had come over me. I had never had an outburst like that before. I had never been prone to violence. I took the opportunity to go back into my shell and let the silence take the reigns again. When the principal got nowhere, they brought in the school counselor, who hoped she could break through the defenses, and get answers out of me, but again, I stayed firm. I wasn't about to play their games, and I was in the mood to simply accept whatever punishment they wanted to deal out. Quite frankly, I had hoped for something in isolation. Something to keep me from the masses. Something that would inevitably allow me to not see the whispers and the "tee hees" from my peers. But instead, because of my track record they decided all I needed to do was apologize. I hadn't thrown a punch. I hadn't hurt anyone. I had simply raised my voice and pushed someone. As frustrated as I was at the fact that all I had to do was apologize, I did it. It's what was right. I let my emotions get the better of me, and I knew that wasn't the person my parents would want me to be. No matter what I saw them do, they were still the people I looked up to and wanted to impress in life. So I did what I knew they would want me to do, and I wrote a note apologizing, and promising it would never happen again. I also promised I would never bother her or speak to her again.

And that was that. That was my first explosion of anger in my life. That was the first time that I knew I had a fuse, and that it could be tripped, and it scared me to death. I also knew that this meant the eyes would be on me even more. Everyone would be wanting to see if this girl could explode again, or if it was a one-off thing. To combat this, the principal also made it clear I was to go directly to my next class in the shortest route possible. Translated, they would tell me where I could and couldn't walk. I was to leave class-specific materials in each room so as not have to pack up as much, and be able to make it between rooms quicker, and have less time being the focus of other students. And for a couple weeks, this actually worked. Honestly it began to ease my angst. I had time to process my home life, and begin to forget about it and think about other things. I had routes to classes that left me less vulnerable to being seen and watched by other kids. It was a nice change from the hectic nature I had gotten used to for so long. As with all good things, however, things took a turn. As I was migrating between classes as I had done, avoiding most of the other students, I was approached by a student I didn't recognize. I could tell he was younger, but he also looked like nobody I would have ever been in the same "social circles" with. I saw him make eye contact with me, and I just tried to put my head down and keep walking. He, however, approached me very directly, but also in a non-confrontational manner. He stood directly in front of me, making me stop, and looked around, before addressing me, personally.


School Kid: Your family is different, too, isn't it?

Me: I was always told every family is different in their own way...

School Kid: You know what everyone says about your family, right?

Me: Only that they aren't like the rest...

School Kid: Well I'll say this... I don't know if it's true, but if it is, you're not the only kid with parents like that. There are more of us...

His comments were very mysterious and indirect. I didn't know what people said about my parents, or me, but I wanted to know.

Me: Quit playing games... What do they say?

School Kid: They say your parents fuck other people...

My eyes widened. I couldn't believe what he had said. What I had seen was something that basically EVERYONE knew before I did. And then he's saying that I'm not alone and there are other kids who have this situation? Am I not alone? Is this normal? This revelation just brought a flood of emotions back to me. I had just forgotten about what I had seen, and now I'm being reminded, and also told that this is more prevalent than what I was led to believe. I didn't know how to respond. I didn't know what to say at that point. I just stuttered, and quickly ran toward my next class. I was fighting tears, fighting emotions, fighting everything that could be fought internally.

This kid began to show up all around me for the next couple of weeks, just looking my way and nodding. I could tell he wanted to try and show support, but for the longest time all I wanted was to forget what I saw, and what he said. I wanted everything to go back to the way it was. I would much rather be stared at than believe any of this, or feel any of this. But it was after weeks of secluding myself from most of the school, more weeks of seeing this kid, I feel, trying to look out for me or tell me I wasn't alone, it all culminated one weekend when my parents had organized another one of their get-together events. This one felt different, to me. This one felt more important. Instead of just tidying up the house and making a nice dinner, this one was far more formal. It involved a much fancier dinner, fancier drink options, and even I had to put on a dress in order to look presentable to whomever it was coming over. I began to wonder if this was the same kind of event as before, or if this was something on a more work-related and professional level. As the couple arrived, they, too, were dressed up in a much fancier way than I was used to seeing at these dinner parties, and my presence was actually welcomed at the dinner table. With all I had been through, and everything I had endured over the past few weeks, my desire to interact was still at a minimum, but my curiosity was still piqued as to what was going on.

The dinner party carried on in a very boring manner for a kid. There was no conversations that really felt like they were being done in some form of code as to not tip me off. Everything was actually centered around everyone's work, and the occasional question to me about school. While I decided not to sit in complete silence, I would answer simply, and go back to eating. I didn't know who these people were. Their names weren't ones that had been thrown around as if they were colleagues or coworkers or friends. To me, they were complete strangers, and I was supposed to act like I knew them as well as my parents did. I was naive and still a kid so to me, this was how boring adults acted when trying to impress one another for something they wanted in return, like a raise, or a promotion. I figured these people had some kind of power, and wanted to be shown off for, in order for my parents to get further ahead in the community. But as was always the case, and a major tell-tale sign for me, the time came when I was expected to go to my room. Instead of going quietly, I asked why I couldn't hang out, too. I decided maybe they would give me a clue as to what was actually going on, but I was met with responses including that they were going to be having a few drinks and playing board games not suitable for my age. They also said that the language of some of these games may not be appropriate, but to me, that showed their naivety to how my age was already using foul language, and knowing what a lot of innuendo meant. So reluctantly I agreed, and I did what I figured was the right thing, still assuming this was part of a way for my parents to impress these people, and I said I was glad to have met them. I excused myself to my room, and shut my door loud enough for it to be heard. I then waited, and cracked it enough so I could sneak out and hopefully get answers.

About an hour or so passed and everyone remained in the kitchen. I could tell everyone had loosened up because they got louder and the laughs became more boisterous. I was thankful it was those kind of noises I was hearing, and not anything more grotesque like I had seen before. After they finished with their chatting in the kitchen, they began to migrate to the family room, where I had seen all of the "action" the last time people were over. I wanted to know, but I didn't. Were games really being played? Was there more extracurricular activities going on? From what I could initially tell, it was more of the laughing and talking, but this time the conversation seemed a bit different. It seemed in a different tone. And as before, I wanted to get answers and I slowly made my way out of my bedroom toward the family room, within earshot but unable to be seen. The conversation was confusing, coded, but yet, concise.


Mom: Alright so tell us about this place...

Female Guest: The club is a wonderful place for individuals and couples like us to basically have a place to enjoy ourselves. It's exclusive and invite only...

Dad: And how do we get in?

Female Guest: We would be your invite. You'd meet the owners, and they'd make sure you weren't secretly trying to raid the place, and then you'd pay your dues and have unlimited access. Best part is, there are enough singles and couples where almost every time you went, there would be new people you could get to know, have fun with, play with, whatever you wanted, in a safe and secluded establishment.

Dad: How is that even legal?

Female Guest: Because it's just a private club. You're not paying for relations inside of it. You're simply paying a membership fee, and you get to partake of all of the amenities. And it's completely secure, with nobody unknown or unwanted going in or out. It's crazy... They have this security guy they call The One, and he is someone you just don't mess around with. You guys would just go with us, he'd scan your IDs and attach them this time to our membership, that way if anything bad happened it would be on us as the "sponsors."

Mom: That sounds great, and all, but we can't just leave her behind...

Male Guest: See that's one of the perks of this place. They have a completely separate building for parents to drop off their kids, so they don't see or hear anything that is happening in the main lodge area. It's like super daycare. They have anything a kid would want to do. They have places they could nap, video games, food, sodas, movies, the internet, a small indoor sports complex, literally everything so the kids can do what they want, and be entertained. They even have little areas for little kids being watched by the teenagers. Caveat is the teenagers get paid a little to not say anything, but basically take care of the little-little kids.

Mom: It just seems... Seedy, you know?

Male Guest: We thought the same. Hell it took a couple meetings with a couple different couples we played with to convince us to even go the first time. And the truth is, you go once, don't like it, you're not shunned. It's not like anyone out there who plays, doesn't play elsewhere, too. It's just a secluded place to get out of the neighborhood, get away from potential stigmas or rumors or anything else. It is part of the agreement to being a member is confidentiality. But as far as cleanliness, places to be alone and not disturbed, you name it, they have it, and they're just constantly upgrading.

Dad: And she wouldn't know what's going on?

Female Guest: Not at all. Our kids are similar age and they don't realize what is happening outside of thinking Mom and Dad are just out having a fun time and a few drinks. They don't know the details...

Playing? Details? The desire to keep this conversation somewhat coded wasn't working this time, and I knew what my parents were wanting to get into. I couldn't believe that they were truly like this. I couldn't believe they would want to do this kind of stuff, not just with some others, but random others at that. And to know I'd have to go, and possibly know about what was going on just began to give me the chills, and I didn't know how to process it. I quickly just went back to my room and shut the door quietly. While I was upset, I didn't want them to know i knew the truth yet. Now it was about finding the right time to call my shot, and make it clear I wasn't OK with the idea. I know they wanted me to understand that everyone is different, but how is someone who is barely of pubescent age supposed to understand that sex between a lot of people at, basically, random, something that is becoming more prevalent in society? And how was I supposed to feel knowing all of these kids I was going to be forced to be around were in the same boat? Was I supposed to feel comfortable? Was I supposed to feel welcomed and that everything is OK? None of this was registering and, instead, just being infuriating. I felt that urge that I felt at school to go running out there and just calling them all out. I wanted to let my fuse explode once again. After fighting the urge to run out, I stayed in my room, but the explosion still came when, while sitting on my bed I just turned toward the wall and put a fist through the first layer of sheet rock. It was loud enough that my parents came running and swung my door open. They asked if I was OK, and my defenses kicked in, and I said I slipped and hit the wall with my elbow, and it just crashed through. I apologized, acting as innocent as I could, and trying to ensure that they didn't see the scrape on one of my knuckles. They were genuinely concerned for my safety, and I assured them I was OK, and they could go back to their game night. My dad, for as gross as he may have been for his antics in his personal life, always held me on a pedestal and assured me he'd get the hole repaired, and not to worry.

But when they left I knew one thing... I needed an outlet for this aggression... I needed to let this fuse be lit, burn, and explode in a way that would be less destructive. And thankfully, soon enough that opportunity would come my way.




-------------------------------



In a nondescript back alley, a fire barrel burns at the dead end. The camera slowly begins to approach the barrel, and the figure of a person comes into view, with a hoodie, and her back and one foot against the brick wall. From under the hood, the profile of The One can be made out, and like before, she senses the presence of the camera, and while looking straight ahead, begins to speak.

What is "greatness?" Why is what everyone around is talking about rising toward? Who defines whether or not you truly achieved it? As I asked before, is it because of something shiny? Is it just one moment in time? Is everything you have ever done completely negated, and you given a blank slate because of one fight? Do people forget your past? People haven't forgotten mine... People remember the deeds I've done, and even though I may have taken one step forward, trying to change my future, my past is still as haunting as its ever been. I'm not given a free pass. I'm not given the chance to have all of my bad deeds be forgotten. Instead, I have people, in my personal life reminding me how guilty I have been in the past, and how responsible I am for my own actions. And yet, those here seem to believe that a moment in time will make everything they have done go away and they'll have a free pass to their future. It's a mentality rampant throughout the history of Supreme Championship Wrestling, and starts at the very top, all the way to bottom.

See, the one thing I've had to do, is research. I've had to find out who everyone is, where they came from, and what I have found out is that the number of people who are revered in this place have such dicey pasts. Look at the head of the table. Look at the founder, Mr. D. This man once had a team of people who he would send out to carry out his personal vendettas against people he didn't care for. He ran this place like his own personal playground. He was untouchable, and unstoppable. He and his minions would just do whatever they wanted, all for power. He may have calmed his role, since, but he is no saint. David Helms... Another name I see praised as, almost a saint, in this organization. A man who once turned his back on his friends, all so he could get in the pants of another. Amends may have been made, but David tried to ruin lives, friendships, and families, all because he forgot what head he was thinking with. It's not just power hungry men either. Women like Syren and Regan Street, they would have friends, turn their backs on friends, and then use their sexuality to do the same thing as David Helms, and actually TO David Helms. All for power. All for opportunities to call themselves the "greatest." Jake Starr, another name of someone who would sink to whatever low he could to get something shiny around his waist.

Greed, is what SCW seems to define as "greatness." It's not about what path the person has set forth, or how someone has overcome past demons, it's about greed. It's a systematic plague that lives in us all. Nobody is free of it. Nobody is immune to the grasp that greed can have on a person. Imagine, having the ability to think you have everything you ever wanted or could imagine. Think about the chance to be gifted God-like status, all effectively within the span of three seconds. That is what SCW has taught us to all believe is "greatness." It's not about what you do with it, but just if you can do it once a year. The rest of the year you can devote to acting however you want, however you choose, and know that you're free to get away with it. Why is that? Why is it that expectations are only limited to what people do during this period of the year, and if they ultimately "Rise to Greatness?" You know what a true "Rise to Greatness" is? A Phoenix. Something killed, burnt to ask, believed to have met its complete and utter demise, and then somehow, through rebirth, resurrection, a miracle, whatever you want to call it, it is reborn. It's given a second chance to LIVE. Not a second chance to "be great," but to LIVE. That's what the opportunity of greatness truly is. It's a chance to be reborn, and have your past, your trespasses, all of that washed away, so you can truly have a moment to be something GREATER than you once were. Those names I mentioned? Did some rectify their wrongs, probably. But weren't they all fueled by the notion of temptation in the end? The idea to actually BE great, and not be looked at as such? Wasn't it always about the "win?" So ask yourself... Is that truly rising like a Phoenix from the ashes, or is that just dusting yourself off and putting on a clean pair of clothes?

Now having said all of that, and some arguing I may have sounded like a broken record, I say it with a purpose. I am not someone who likes to say she knows everything because I don't. I don't know everyone's entire history, I just know what I have seen, and been able to research. So I'm not ignorant to believe that I am entirely right with my assessments of the long term lives of everyone I've mentioned. So, to be blunt, I could be wrong. I could be completely off base with some of these, if not all of these people. Those who aren't around in SCW anymore could have continued down much more admirable paths and created lives for themselves and others that I would classify as leaning toward greatness. But I tend to believe that most people trend toward the world I have seen with my own two eyes, and greed doesn't just jump out of one's system out of nowhere. But I could be wrong. I could be completely off base. I could also be completely off base with the state of SCW. As I said, I wanted to expose and rid SCW of all of the greed, and show the world who a lot of these people really are. But then, as I got closer and closer to present day in my research, I started to see a decline in those who were showing themselves to be the worst offenders. I started to see new crops of individuals popping up among the roster. It was less about the few who everyone had become accustomed to seeing benefit from opportunities, and more about the new blood trying to begin building its foundation in the bedrock of the SCW soil. But I haven't seen the growth, the development, and the what could potentially be, I am starting to wonder if maybe I am a little late to the party when it comes to leading a revolution and exposing people. Maybe SCW doesn't need a rebellion against those who have held others down, but instead, someone to lead it down a path of REVELATION.

Think about what I said I wanted to do. I wanted to forge a path to true greatness in SCW. I wanted to show the world what true greatness could be. But maybe the "higher powers" have already forged that path? What if that path has already been laid out, and what SCW has needed isn't someone who is supposed to lead an uprising, but instead, lead its people through that path, much like Moses did with the Red Sea. But instead of parting it myself, I'm simply the guide toward that new promised land, where people begin to truly go for the greatness that lies within them? Maybe my job is more to open everyone's eyes, and show them that the ways of the past, the negativity that surrounded many individuals, and greed that defined an era, is gone. It's now a time for true talent and greatness to showcase itself. It's time for the SUPREME to rise, and set SCW forth on its new chapter in life. A chapter where it's not about the win, the loss, or the accolade, but about the path one took to get to where they are. The legacy they leave in their wake, and forge going forward. It's about being proud, and others applauding your efforts because of the way you handled yourself, rather than being loathed for believing you were always superior.

These aren't just metaphors, or pretty pictures. They're truths some people don't want to hear because they don't benefit them. They are the few that will try and blend in, only to have The One systematically expose them for who they really are, and burn them into ash, and give them their opportunity at redemption. For many, the opportunity is already there. If they already suffered through the agony of seeing a playlist on repeat, they've already been reduced to ash, and told they can't rise up again. I'm telling them, I'm showing them, I'm PROVING that no matter how burnt down you are, no matter how destroyed you may be, you can persevere. And maybe it's because I'm an outsider that I'm the one who has taken this on as my burden to prove? Maybe it's because of everything I've done in life to make me feel like I owe it to the world to step up, and show that even some of the darkest human beings can change course? I don't know. I just know that SCW doesn't need to be something people perceive as a revolving door of the same people. It has talent. It gets the best talent out there, and it's time for that talent to be allowed to shine and not feel held down because they aren't one of the "chosen ones." This era in a historically amazing organization is going to ultimately be defined by those who have chosen to accept what greatness really means.

But that has to begin somewhere...

So like a Phoenix, I will begin my rebirth. I will use the opportunity of being burnt down by seeing my own evils in front of my eyes be my chance to rise into something better. And while many will perceive a flame to be the brass ring toward something bigger, it's still just that. It's just a flame. It's not a guarantee for anything. It is an opportunity to do something better, do something great, and prove one's worth. But unless from those ashes arises something better, it was never something more than just a free pass. So come Sunday, an uncontrolled blaze will be set in the middle of the Supreme Championship Wrestling ring. Many people will look foolish running head first into it, thinking they'll be the one who can ultimately snuff it out, but it won't die until it has consumed everyone. That blaze will rage until it has taken every ounce of hope from everyone it can. Only then, will it be snuffed, and the new Phoenix of SCW will rise up. The new leader of the new revelation of SCW will strike a familiar pose, pointing at the sign of Rise to Greatness. That ONE WOMAN leader, will officially begin her ONE MISSION, and say all of her words with ONE FINGER. It will be the dawning of a fresh era, and a new beginning. It'll be a day where the unthinkable becomes the believable as someone with no background and no lineage comes in with just a desire, heart, and a passion to write the proper ending to her dark story emerges victorious.

The One lowers her head and begins to whisper.

On a cold winter morning
In the time before the light
In flames of Death's eternal reign
We ride towards the fight
When the darkness has fallen down
And the times are tough, alright
The sound of evil laughter falls
Around the world tonight

Thus say, the third truth... Thus say, THE ONE!

With those final words, The One lifts up a steel drum lid, and throws it over the barrel fire. She then pulls her hood further over her face and walks by the camera, as it begins to zoom in snuffed out fire, and randomly escaping plumes of smoke. The footsteps of The One can be heard trailing off in the distance, and the scene slowly begins to fade to black.



-------------------------------



EXODUS: Chapter Two

Upon her safe escape from the compound, I knew that my personal time there was going to be limited. I knew the ruse, using a derelict like this woman off of the streets, would only be effective for a short period of time, and I would need to plan my escape as well. Before I could do that, however, I had to ensure that this first time "Oracle" cosplayer would be able to do her job and fool the parents of the actual Oracle, herself. So once the pair were clear, I went and followed my normal routine. I made sure the girl was situated behind all of the curtains and the guards were at their posts. They had dealt with this woman for a few days, and their skepticism was high. She had apparently been burning through the money, wanting food, drugs, and alcohol. They knew better than to question The Oracle, and obliged because I told them she was entering a new state of consciousness. Thankfully they had the collective brain processing power of 8-track tape, so they did as they were told, even with their curiosities. After verifying everything was as it should be, and the stage was set, I took a deep breath and walked to the quarters of The Prophets. While their quarters and offices were located in the same building as where "all of the magic happened," the door I went to was one isolated from anywhere that anyone could see. Usually I would simply knock, nod, and escort them. This time, I knew I had to ensure that the change in scenery was explained, and hopefully bought. As I knocked, I could see movement in the peephole, and the door quietly open. Both of The Prophets came down the stairs, and began to walk, and before I could let them get too far ahead, I had to shift from being someone who just committed an atrocity in their eyes, to The One who rules the compound.

Me: Sir... Ma'am...

The Prophets both stop, hearing the stern voice of The One. They quickly turn around.

Male Prophet: What is it? Everything OK?

Me: I needed to fill you both in on new requests made my The Oracle, I have followed through with...

Male Prophet: Go on...

Me: She requested ambiance changes to her seance room. She said she was spoken to in a dream that she is about to reach new levels of consciousness, and to the naked eye of those who didn't understand, they would be fearful that something bad was occurring. So she asked me to surround her seated area with fabric and add lighting.

Fenale Prophet: How are we supposed to talk to her?

Me: The linens are thin. She can hear you and you can pass things through to her, but she wishes not to be seen during her trances. She doesn't want either of you scared for her when she is under the control of the "powers that be."

I could seem them looking at me in a skeptical nature. Typically when she had wanted things in the past, she would reach out to them on her own. This coming from me was a big strange to them, but I knew that I had to find a way to spin it, to make this all work.

Me: ... She didn't want you to worry or freak out. She knew I would simply handle it, and not ask anything of her in return, and follow her directive. It is my number one priority, my sworn duty, and I take her wishes and safety very seriously.

Both Prophets begin to nod, as if understanding The One's position.

Male Prophet: You take that duty and honor well, then. We appreciate it, and thank you for ensuring her continued safety. Now may we go?

Me: Yes. I just wanted to be sure I informed you prior.

Bringing up their own "code of honor" for me was that trump card I always felt I held in my back pocket, and this was the right time to finally pull it out. I had always assumed I would use it for something of personal gain, or personal enjoyment. Not for the reason it was actually bestowed upon me. But with them primed, now I had to see what kind of acting chops this addict had in her system. I didn't know if I would get a believable "Oracle," or someone believing she was Yoko Ono "performing." All I knew is I hoped that The Prophets would get messed up enough to believe whatever it was she said, and however she said it. I also had to hope that the guards hadn't been tipped off either. And thankfully, at least this first night, luck was on my side. The girl was able to do a fairly good impression, although she did have more of a smoker's voice than the actual Oracle, but she passed the test. This let me know that maybe, just maybe, I could take this operation to the next level.

Over the next few days I knew they wouldn't be trying to get more premonitions, so I had to begin the third phase of this plan. My own escape. This one was going to have be much more sophisticated and much more involved than just a hole in the fence and a moped by the road. I had to begin by first figuring out when and where I would go. The where was easy, into town. As much as I knew I would be spotted heading that direction, if I could get to the other side of town, I could get into the next county where The Prophets didn't have as much authority. The when was the difficult part. I wasn't just leaving. That would be easy. I wanted to bring this place to its knees, and I wanted to expose them, including my parents, for what they were. This meant I had to use every ounce of authority I had over the compound to my advantage. I had to use my knowledge of the security, the computer systems, everything, to ensure that when I left, they would know that they were in trouble. They could find another person to designate "The One," but being as that I was the one who helped implement much of the modern aspects of its operation, I knew it inside and out. I knew the secrets. I knew what everyone had to hide, and I intended to take it all with me. As nights could come to an end at the compound, I would begin to excise data and information from different parts of the compound. Financial information, personal information, emails, et cetera. I knew how to get to it all. It didn't hurt that The Prophets only kept things locked from other patrons and not me. So I collected, and collected, and collected. During this whole time, I began to slowly turn some parts of the security system off. I wanted to make sure it was specific cameras that would allow me multiple ways out, and with just a few cameras off, I knew I'd have several ways out. I also made sure to make backups of the security footage. I wanted pictures of patrons. I wanted the same kind of exploitative information on them that they had on others.

I finally had enough, I felt.

The day came where I felt I knew I had to make my escape. After most of the expected patrons had shown up and checked in, I did my last backup of all of the data. I also put software on my main computer that would allow me access, as long as nobody saw it running. So with everyone inside and engaging in the debauchery that the compound was known for, but local authorities turned the blind eye to, I grabbed all of my USB drives, and I simply walked down the long dirt road, toward the highway. I know the path's cameras have been disabled with the exception of one... The one at the road itself. As I reached the highway, I looked both ways before walking into the road, into the field of view of the camera. I held up my keychain full of USB drives and sternly looks into the camera with one final show of my departure. I held up one finger toward the sky, and then immediately turned it upside down and pointed it down. I then made the hand gesture of the throat slash, and quickly darted toward town. I knew they'd eventually be on their way to find me, and they'd realize I took a lot of detrimental data with me. I wasn't stupid. I knew they had eyes all over, but at the same time, they'd know I was The One for a reason, and I had earned that moniker and that reputation. So while they may know where to look, it wouldn't be as easy as a game of tag to retrieve me.

After several hours of walking, I finally reached the outskirts of town. I knew they hadn't seen anything yet because if they had, the police would have had a barricade waiting for me. My timing was perfect. I got to town and I began to make my way toward the opposite side, which stood in another county. While both counties knew about the compound and what all went on, the far county had no jurisdiction, and with its county seat further away, it wasn't susceptible to the bribery that the main county was. This was why I knew I needed to get to that side of town. As I got into the heart of downtown, just a couple miles away from my destination, I walked, hood up, trying to hide my identity from anyone and everyone who may recognize me from the guard house. I had to be as invisible as possible. I found every shadow in the city, every alley, every anything that would give me cover. As I walked down one alley, I began to hear a vehicle of some kind slowing down, almost sputtering. I freeze, and I see this moped turn into the alley and its light illuminate me. I look up and I know what to expect. I expect whomever has been following me to have gotten in front of me, and I slowly lift my hood, and I assume a pose showing I'm not going quietly. But the voice is not one of someone trying to track me down and get me back to the compound. Instead, it's a voice I hoped to one day hear again.


The Oracle: IT'S HER!

The voice was that of The Oracle, who was riding on the back of the moped I had readied for her. Her brother was driving, and immediately scared to see me. The Oracle, like I did, immediately lowered her hood from her hoodie and got off of the bike. Her brother, he put the kickstand down and he jumped off and ran at me, getting directly in my face.

Brother of The Oracle: YOU'RE NOT TAKING HER BACK! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU FOR EVERYTHING YOU'VE PUT HER THROUGH! SHE TOLD ME WHAT SHE WAS MADE TO DO! YOU TOOK HER THERE. YOU ALLOWED IT TO HAPPEN! NOT JUST TO HER, BUT TO ME, TOO! WE WERE FUCKING PRISONERS AND WE, ESPECIALLY HER, ARE NOT GOING BACK!

I watched The Oracle slowly walk up behind her brother. He was ready to throw down. I didn't know if he was going to attack first, but The Oracle made sure no blows were thrown. She walks up behind him and stands between us both. She turns to face him, and when I saw this, I knew I had to take the aggression out of my side as well. I stand up straighter, and take a step back.

The Oracle: She's the reason we are here. You never let me tell you the rest. Yes, she was responsible for a lot, but she was also responsible for realizing what was happening, She's the one who was able to get us this bike and get us away. She's THE ONE who got us out. Her job is to protect me, and she did that...

Brother of The Oracle: But she allowed it to happen! She brought you back all fucked up!

The Oracle: She didn't know. She didn't know until the last time I was in there...

The Oracle turns and faces The One.

The Oracle: ... And now she's escaped too, hasn't she?

The One sighs and looks down. She begins to nod before looking up at The Oracle.

Me: I hope I have... I was hoping you two were further away than here, though. You know they'll soon realize it's not you...

The Oracle: And you realize they'll realize it's your fault.

The One nods.

Me: Fair. But, since you are here, and your brother as well, I stand by my oath.

Brother of The Oracle: See she's gonna take us back!

Me: No... I'm not... I'm going to protect you both so what you two went through doesn't happen again. I swore that I would protect The Oracle at all costs. I am going to swear the same for you as well. I am not letting anyone take you back. I will lay down my life to ensure you two are always safe, from here on. I've sold my soul to the Devil, and it's time I begin to do what I have to do reconcile that evil, and earn my life back as well.

Brother of The Oracle: How can we trust you?

Me: Because I have all of these...

The one holds up all of the USB drives with the information she took.

Me: ... This will be our way to freedom. But we have to get to the other side of town, first. If we can cross the river, we are out of their reach for the most part.

Brother of The Oracle: What does that mean?

Me: The main people we have to worry about are in this county and the one on the opposite side from the compound. There isn't much influence on this side. They haven't been paid off. They picked that location for a reason because of the corruption of those counties. I know a safe space just this side of the river. If we hide out there, it will give me time to arrange our escape...

Brother of The Oracle: I thought we had to get across the river?

Me: We do... But if we can use their resources against them, we will know their moves before they make them. Trust me...

The Oracle again faces her brother.

The Oracle: We can trust her. She won't allow anything to happen to me or you. I feel it inside.

Me: You are The Oracle...

She turns back toward The One.

The Oracle: And you are The One...

Her affirmation for me was all I needed to hear to know that she believed in me. My goal, my oath, was embraced by the woman I was sworn to protect. I know that her brother has his doubts, and I don't blame him. As with earning my redemption and myself back, I have to earn his respect and trust. I know with my contradiction of escape being across the river, yet staying on the opposite side of it, seems counter-intuitive. But I have my reasoning. So we begin our trek, leaving the moped behind, and walking further across town, again following the shadows and avoiding places I know there are large swaths of members who could be tipped off by now.

We finally reach a run down motel on the county border, that to the naked eye, would look like your typical "pay by the hour" dive. This was a facade for a reason. The Prophets would use this to house VIPs and keep their anonymity. Nobody would look at VIPs staying at a seedy motel, but inside the actual living conditions were five star. As I got us there, I hid The Oracle and her brother in an area they wouldn't be seen. I walk in, hooded, and the manager immediately says they're closed. As I remove my hood, he immediately jumps up to the counter and knows who he is in the presence of. I make it clear I'm here on a very "top secret" mission on behalf of The Prophets. I made up a story about there potentially being a breach of security at the compound, and The Oracle was in danger. Well I guess I only half made it up. But I told him my duty was to ensure her safety and the protection of her whereabouts.

Before I left, I swiped some of the bricks of petty cash they kept on hand. I have him a couple and told them this was a token from The Prophets in exchange for his cooperation and silence. Since they wrapped their money with very distinct bands, he knew they were from the compound. He also hadn't heard anything about The Oracle or my escape, so in his eyes, this was legitimate. I asked for a room with a view for safety purposes, and he gave me just what I needed. I could see the property, front and back. I knew this would give us, at the least, a night of protection for The Oracle and her brother. As I get the two of them secured in the room, I spend the rest of the night watching, and ensuring there was no activity around the room. At any moment, our cover would be blown, but at the same time, with each day, I am able to continue to plan the next phase of getting The Oracle to safety, and working on bringing down The Prophets for everything they have done to their family, my family, and this community as a whole.
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