Kimberly Williams vs. Syren

[Konrad Raab]

Number One Contendership to SCW World Championship

2 RP Limit for singles

3500 Word Per RP

Deadline: WEDNESDAY, December 17, 2025 at 11:59:59 pm ET (NOTE THE DEADLINE – this is for both shows)

[The Matt]

1 of 2
=====

==========
December 6th, 2025
Dallas, Texas
Off Camera
==========

Earlier tonight on SCW Breakdown Kimberly Williams picked up a victory over Chris Lawler in the Shot of Adrenaline Tournament, placing her closer to the finish line, closer potentially to making the semi-finals. Normally a professional wrestler would be quite pleased with a victory of this magnitude. Normally any time a victory is achieved that brings a smile to the face of a competitor, especially when it has to do with a tournament.

Kimberly Williams is NOT a normal professional wrestler.

The Queen of the Death Match has been enraged since the Shot of Adrenaline Tournament was announced. She did not want to be a part of it and only played her role when she was Adrenaline Champion. When she lost the title to Dexter Grant she wanted out and thus far has found no way of escaping this tournament. While certain competitors such as Spencer Pryce and Chris Dumont have found an exit, Kimberly Williams has been forced to continue. Tonight she had to compete against Chris Lawler. Tonight she made Chris Lawler submit to Scorned which puts her closer to the Shot of Adrenaline semi-finals. This only serves to agitate the demented ginger even further because she has no desire to reclaim the Adrenaline Title. She has two goals on her mind:

Win the SCW Underground Championship for a record sixth time.

Win the SCW World Championship to make herself a Supreme Champion.

The Underground Title still proves elusive but at least she does find herself within reach of a shot at the SCW World Championship. If she can win her match at Shattered Reality, she will become the number one contender. The best part of this situation is that she is facing a woman she absolutely hates in Syren. Not only does Kimberly get to earn a title match, not only does she get to deny Syren a title match, but she gets the opportunity to maim Syren all in one swift stroke.

Still, Kimberly is chaos personified and despite having at least one of her goals within reach, the psychotic ginger is still frustrated that the other two aspects of her SCW career, namely the Adrenaline Tournament and the Underground Title, are not going her way. It falls upon her mother and agent Angelica Jones to try and keep the Queen of Chaos under control. That proves to be nearly an impossible task.

The lobby of the Omni Dallas Hotel sprawled like a cathedral built for commerce and comfort, all gleaming marble and warm ambient light that poured down from a massive geometric chandelier suspended three stories above. The air carried the mingled scents of fresh orchids from the towering arrangements on the concierge desk, faint espresso from the bar tucked in the far corner, and the crisp, almost metallic note of luxury that expensive hotels always seem to manufacture out of nowhere. Near the center of this careful opulence stood two women who looked as though they had wandered in from entirely different novels. Kimberly Williams, The Queen of the Death Match, wore scuffed black combat boots laced with mismatched neon shoelaces, one lime green, one hot pink, and a pair of men’s cargo pants so covered in pockets they looked like they could survive a month in the wilderness without resupply. Over a faded WASLEY penguin t-shirt she had thrown an oversized olive-drab military jacket decorated with enamel pins: UFOs, cryptids, a tiny embroidered patch that read “Trust No One” in dripping red letters. She was pacing in constant motion, shifting her weight from foot to foot, fingers drumming against her thigh in a rhythm only she could hear, eyes darting everywhere at once. Every reflective surface got a quick, suspicious glance, every passing bellhop earned a stare that lingered half a second too long. A thin sheen of perspiration glistened at her temples despite the aggressive air-conditioning; excitement or paranoia, impossible to tell.

Ten feet away stood Angelica Jones. Her hair was the same fiery red as her daughter’s, but where Kimberly’s looked like a bonfire, Angelica’s had been persuaded into an elegant low chignon that caught the light like burnished copper. A cream silk blouse with a pussy-bow neckline was tucked into a dove-gray pencil skirt that ended precisely at the knee, no more, no less. Her patent nude heels were the exact shade of her skin, giving the illusion that she floated an inch above the marble. A single strand of South Sea pearls rested against her collarbones, and the only color on her came from the deep emerald drop earrings that flashed whenever she turned her head. She held a small structured handbag in both gloved hands, yes, gloved, pale gray kid leather, as though the bag might try to escape if not properly restrained. Angelica’s posture was perfect, spine straight, chin level, expression serene in the way only very expensive women can manage when surrounded by chaos. The faint smile on her lips suggested she found the entire world mildly amusing but not quite worth the effort of genuine laughter. Every so often her gaze flicked toward Kimberly with the resigned fondness of someone who had long ago accepted that her daughter had been assembled on a different planet.

Between them stretched a silence thick enough to require its own zip code. Kimberly’s restless energy crackled against Angelica’s stillness like static electricity looking for a victim. Guests flowed around them in eddies, businessmen in tailored suits checking watches, a gaggle of bridesmaids in matching blush dresses clutching garment bags, a lone teenager filming everything on his phone, yet the two redheaded women somehow managed to carve out an island of tension in the middle of all that polished bustle.

“Kimberly, can we talk?”

“Talk about what?” Kimberly asks, with a hint of frustration in her voice. “Let’s talk about how Spencer Pryce gets to exit the tournament for no reason but I still have to participate!

“Already told you, Spencer was injured.”

“What about Chris Dumont? He gets to have someone replace him?”

“Kim…” Angelica shakes her head.

“I made it perfectly clear. I do not want anything to do with this Shot of Adrenaline Tournament. Yet I am watching some participants drop like flies and yet I have to stay? I have to continue being the good little trooper?” She shakes her head. “It isn’t fair! You know what else isn’t fair? Enigma had AGREED to give me a shot at the Underground Title. He agreed BEFORE Old Macdonald came along and stuck her nose into our business. It isn’t fair that Xander Valentine gets an Underground Title Match before I do simply because Old Macdonald says so!”

“Kim…”

“And it isn’t right that the most horrible person on planet earth gets to be in the SCW World Title conversation just because of her name. She’s Syren and she gets whatever the hell she wants. I represent the people. I represent those who Syren steps on to get to the top. I represent those who Syren screws over to get to the top. And at Shattered Reality I am not just going to take away her dreams of earning a world title shot, I am going to take away her career. I am going to slaughter the bitch!”

“Kim!” Angelica exclaims, her shout draws the attention of some passersby but it also serves the purpose of quieting her eccentric daughter. The Woman Scorned frowns.

“What?”

“I know what you want; you want out of the Shot of Adrenaline. You want an Underground Title shot. I am doing everything I can to get you what you want. But try to stay positive. You wanted a world title shot? I got you there! All you have to do is beat Syren at Shattered Reality and you get it!”

“Yeah, yeah, small victories I suppose.” Kim rolls her eyes. “Leaving Syren in a bloody mess would make my heart leap for joy!” She smirks. “Oh ok, I’ll keep playing along…for now…but you keep working on getting me out of this dumb Shot of Adrenaline Tournament.”

“Sure, you know, what get yourself injured…” sarcasm drips from Angelica’s voice “...find someone to break your arms or legs or something and I am pretty sure I can convince CHBK to remove you from the tournament.”

“Wait…” Kim furrows her brow in confusion “...I suggested that and you said it was a bad idea?”

“It is a bad idea!” Angelica exclaims. “I am being sarcastic!”

“Oh, right.” Kim snickers. “See, when I say stuff like that I usually mean it.”

“Look,” Angelica sighs as she rubs her temple “ignore the distractions. Ignore what bothers you. Ignore Shot of Adrenaline and the Underground division because right now you have no control over either. The one thing you DO have control over is the SCW World Championship conversation.”

“I can keep Syren out and put myself in.”

“Exactly. Focus on that.”

“And I can eliminate Syren from professional wrestling!” Kim exclaims happily.

“Don’t go overboard.” Angelica sighs. “You don’t want to get disqualified and waste your opportunity. Besides, I think you should have listened to what was on that tape. Ravyn…”

“...is a liar!” Kim exclaims, as if finishing her mother’s sentence for her. “You remember how she and Syren manipulated and conned Marie, don’t you?”

“Yes, I remember.” Angelica nods her head. “But that was years ago. People change.”

“You tell me this as if I care.” Kim says grimly. “No one hurts my sister without some sort of payback. Payback in blood. I will not settle for anything less than their heads on a pike.”

“You’ve been on this never ending revenge quest for years, Kim, all on behalf of your sister, and it’s sweet…in a twisted, demented sort of way…but did you ever stop to think if your sister would even WANT you to do this on her behalf?”

Over by the entrance, the automatic doors whooshed open again, admitting a gust of warm Dallas air and another wave of travelers dragging suitcases. The noise of the city, distant horns, the rumble of a light-rail train, filtered in for a moment before the doors closed and the lobby swallowed it. Kimberly and her mother are too caught up in their own intense discussion to notice a man, wearing a silk button up dress shirt, black dress pants, and black shoes, approaching the pair. His hair is black as night and he has a grin, bordering smug, etched across his face. He swaggers over to The Woman Scorned and The Dragon with his air of confidence, as if he doesn’t care who he is about to confront, or not knowing what he is about to interrupt.

“Good evening, ladies.” The man remarks, instantly getting the attention of Kimberly and Angelica as the pair turn to face him. Angelica looks annoyed but Kim, on the other hand, appears playful, like a predator ready to play with her meal.

“This isn’t the time.” Angelica insists, shaking her head. “Me and my daughter were just leaving.”

“Oh don’t be such a wet blanket, mom!” Kim retorts. “Obviously this is a fan and as The People’s Champion, I always make time for my Kimmymaniacs!”

“Well, uh,” he starts to talk but Kim interrupts.

“What can I do for ya? Do you want me to sign a photo? Sign a book? Sign your butt cheeks? Sign a severed head? I’ll sign anything you got! But if you bring me a severed head my mom will likely report you to the authorities. She’s all about law and order.”

“Kim!”

“Relax, mom, I’m sure he doesn’t have a severed head.” Kim turns to the man and arches her brow out of curiosity. “You don’t have a severed head, right?”

“No.”

“Good!” Kim grins happily.

“But also I am not a fan…at least not in the way you think…I mean, I am well aware of your wrestling career, Ms. Williams, you too Ms. Jones. But that is not what attracted me to you.” The man reaches into his pocket and produces a business card. He hands it to Kim. She studies it carefully and then looks back up at him.

“Realtor?”

“That’s right, I am a realtor.” He extends his hand. “You can call me Lucian.”

“Lucian what?” Kim asks curiously.

“Just Lucian will do.” He says with a confident grin. “All of my friends do.”

“You’re not my friend. Yet. Unless you want to try to kill me?” She grins devilishly. “I always befriend those who try to kill me.”

“Uh, I don’t think that will be necessary…” he laughs nervously. Kim shakes her head.

“Then we’re not friends.”

“Calm down, Kimmy.” Angelica pats her on the back, hoping to calm her eccentric daughter. Angelica then looks up at Lucian. “What is it that you want?”

“Well as I said, I am a realtor and that is how I came to know your daughter. Her involvement in real estate in the Boston area, where I also operate, has intrigued me. Her business operation is noble; how she tries to put low income, needy individuals in modestly nice homes.”

“Oh so you’re trying to muscle in on my action eh?” Kim asks. Lucian shakes his head.

“I would never ‘muscle in’ as you put it.” He shakes his head. “I do think that we could have a brilliantly successful partnership.”

“Look, Lucian,” Angelica sighs out of frustration “you may want to talk business with my daughter, but now is neither the time or the place. Real estate is her side gig. She is primarily a professional wrestler and she just got back from competing. We’re not particularly in the mood for fans right now, let alone total strangers who want to do business.”

“Come on, mommy,” Kim says playfully as she breaks free from the grip Angelica had on her shoulder and then proceeds to circle Lucian like a shark circling its next meal “what’s wrong with a little predatory business practice? Maybe me and Lucian can take over the world!”

“Just the Boston real estate market.” Lucian says softly, correcting her.

“You need to aim higher!” Kim exclaims. “Why conquer the Boston real estate market when we can take over the world? Then maybe I can force CHBKLMNOP to take me out of the dumb Shot of Adrenaline Tournament by imposing tariffs? It seems to work for other tin pot tyrants.”

“Don’t tell me you are actually entertaining this nonsense?!” Angelica asks. Kim shrugs her shoulders.

“Why not? Sounds like fun!”

“Before you two make any rash decisions, perhaps you would like to know what kind of homes I typically deal with.” Lucian reaches back into his pocket and produces one single photograph. He hands it to Kimberly. She takes one look at it and her entire demeanor changes. One might say the entire environment goes cold. Angelica doesn’t notice. She takes the photograph out of her daughter’s hands, looks at it, and sees a spectacularly fancy, almost regal palace like home. Jones shakes her head and gives the photo back to Lucian.

“I think you are mistaken.” Angelica says. “Kim doesn’t deal with homes THIS opulent…”

Meanwhile The Woman Scorned has been stewing. Her temper is still boiling over for reasons that are unknown. She finally looks straight into Lucian’s eyes with a glare that could only be described as pure hatred.

“Leave.”

“Excuse me?” Angelica is surprised to hear Kim basically growl like that. Lucian, however, seems to be unbothered by it, almost as if he expected this reaction.

“I said leave!” She shouts angrily.

“Very well, I shall leave.” He chuckles. “But, Ms. Williams, you really should contact me. My phone number is on the back of the card.”

Lucian chuckles. He turns and strolls away, unbothered and unaffected by Kimberly’s outburst. The Woman Scorned never lets her eyes leave this stranger. Angelica, however, is very much bothered, moreso by her daughter’s reaction than by the stranger himself. It is rare that she sees Kim react this way and when she does, it is never good. Once Lucian is out of site, Angelica waves her hand in front of Kim’s face to get her attention, breaking the trancelike state The Queen of the Death Match had been in.

“Uh, Kimmy?” She says. “Earth to Kimmy? What’s wrong?”

“Huh?”

“Are you ok?”

“No…” She shakes her head “...I mean yes. I mean, I don’t know.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Kim.” Angelica sighs. “We can’t just ignore the fact that a total stranger who claims to operate his real estate business out of Boston was so hell bent on finding you and doing business with you that he tracked you down here to Dallas to talk business. Doesn’t that strike you as odd? And then the way you reacted to him just then?”

“So what?” Kim shrugs her shoulders, feigning innocence. “He’s a creep. Big deal.”

“No, it’s not just that.” Angelica shakes her head. “You know something and you’re not telling me.”

“No, I don’t.” Kim shakes her head. “Trust me, mom. I’m fine.”

Kimberly storms away. Angelica heard her daughter say that she was fine, that she should trust her. She heard Kim claim that she knows nothing about Lucian. But any mother worth her salt knows when their child is lying. She knows Kimberly is lying. She just doesn’t know why. What is Kimberly’s connection to Lucian?