Total Terror vs. Slayter McKinney

[Team Desire]

SCW PPV Debuts
Total Terror vs. Slayter McKinney


 
3 RP Limit for singles; 4 RP limit for tag
Deadline: 5 PM ET Saturday, October 20, 2018

[Slayter]

*OOC The Rushiest Rush Job that ever Rushed. I apologize profusely. It'll all work out in the end!

Episode 6

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The Quick and Easy Road Into Hell

“You’re too soft.”

Three hours on the heavy bag. Taped fists pounding into the worn canvas with Slayter McKinney’s breath growing hoarser and more frenetic the more furiously she swung her fists home. Before that she did sit ups till her abs felt like molten steel being set under a smith’s hammer. Before that it was push ups, and free weights.

It had been like this since Breakdown. She could have had Owen Cruze. She could have had Selena Frost.

She could have, she would have, she didn’t.

“You’re not good enough.”

Her hair was damp and matted with sweat. Her fist clubbed harder and harder into the bag. Every effort and strain a hiss of boiled steam out through her teeth.

Failure stung.

Defeat brought oppressive allies to help you feel it more than it warranted. It was just a loss. It’d happen again, as it had happened before. But it nagged at Slayter. It hung like a cloud over every day. She hid her tears with her son nearby. She retreated to the gym more and more thinking it through, where she’d gone wrong against Owen Cruze, and even further back against Selena Frost. She replayed the steps she’d taken, tried to find a flaw to her strategy, but it all gathered into uncountable forces threatening to undermine her every thought moving forward.

“There’s no fire to you.”

His voice sounded like the chorus in a Greek tragedy, coming forward to tell the audience what it already knew but needed to hear for confirmation sake. She let out that anguished yelp of a woman sick of hearing it in her own head and now had to hear it out loud. Her weary head leant against the punching bag and glanced slowly in the direction of the man who’d been standing there watching her.

“What’s your name?”

“Jack Hugg.”

She breathed steadily, recovering her energy as she eventually pulled away from the heavy bag to regard him straightly.

“Here to recruit me again?” Her chest rose and fall at the sight of him. The old man who had, previously before her match with Owen Cruze offered her his managerial services. She refused, obviously.

“No,” he replied, after a moment straightening his crooked spine. She had to do a double-take, swearing she’d misheard.

“What do you mean--”

“You’re a loser.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t manage losers.”

Disappointment. Defeat. It came with allies.

“But you said--”

“I know what I said, girlie. I said it before I watched you lose.”

“I came close--”

“Everybody comes close. That’s the difference between everybody else and champions. You’re not it, girlie. Thought you were. You’re not. You’re everybody else. Sorry for wasting your time.” He nodded his head and turned to leave as silently as he’d come with Slayter watching him with a darkened frown.

“Are you for real?” She called after him. It shouldn’t bother her, should it? A man who entered her life on the vaguest of terms was leaving, so did it bother her?

“Realer than you, Slayter. See ya around.” And he was gone, leaving her in an exhausted state of confusion and rejection.

Defeat came with allies.


“Might as well be luke warm water, right now.” she stated, brooding moodily under those dim lights of her locker room. She looked into her hands, not the camera, and trembled, doing her best to hide it. She’d cut promo material for each match she’d wrestled for SCW, and none of them made her nervous.

This one did.

“Two losses in a row. And Slayter McKinney isn’t a happy camper.” She clenched her fists tighter.

“I know, I know. I didn’t lose against Selena Frost. But it may as well have been. Two in a row, and one might say that my fortunes have shifted her in SCW since starting out as the darling. It was a match between two up and comers. Myself and Owen Cruze, and me, the savvy vet coming back to the sport after a prolonged hiatus, admittedly, I should have damn well had that.” She shook her head, disappointment holding down her shoulders.

“I should have had it. But I didn’t. You’re only as good as your last match. And me? Well.. do I need to state how good I feel right now given my last match, and the last match before that?”

Another moody, darkened shake of her head.

“Now I go in to my PPV debut at Under Attack against Total Terror, and… I don’t know. I don’t know what I have going for me if I don’t have a win under my belt to carry me.

I’m not happy,” she said, standing and moving past the camera frame to turn it off. "What else can I say?"

And fade.