Welcome to the Devil's Den

NO! NONONONONO! NO! NO! BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT! OK, OK, OK, OK, Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa, WHOA, calm down, Katie, calm down, please calm down, calm do-- HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CALM DOWN?! I don't know what to do, where to go from this point! I feel like the mother of a kidnapped newborn child, and now I have to start from the bottom. ALL OVER AGAIN! Except this time, things are actually a bit different. I’m a fallen queen among commoners forced to conform, not a commoner shooting to become queen. It feels weird after 164 days, to say the absolute least. Now, this match, it's for a shot at something that made Ziu Zhong, for something that made Tyler Storm, and hopefully, maybe it could make Katie Moicelle, FORMER… Zero Gravity Champion, into Katie Moicelle, first female Quest for The Case winner. Now, I never wanted to be the next Ziu Zhong. Honestly, I never thought I'd be saying that, either. No, I want to be the first Katie Moicelle. The first and last one, in fact. Blame Valquist for that mindset. No, that doesn't change the fact that I DON'T HAVE MY BABY ANYMORE, but that's not my point. My point is, my quest to change and/or make history isn’t going to stop with losing my freshman title and embarrassing myself at our beautiful federation’s biggest event, while in conjunction losing my second straight match, and while we’re at it, Ace Watson snapping my pay per view winning streak, which in turn… you get the point, why am I beating you over the head with all the details? In Layman’s Terms, Katie Moicelle is not dead. She has a long way to go before the actual grim reaper catches up to her, and even further to fall before jobbing out to someone like Jamo.

Trust me.

Act I – Loss: A Cross(word) to (Claire-)Bear

Location – Claire’s Underground Residence

Date – June 23rd, 2016 @ 8:38 P.M.

So, I suppose the tale of title-less Katie begins here, with my head buried in a pillow over last Thursday. My eyes feel rather irritated, like I’ve been wiping away tears on sandpaper. With my eyes wide open. I think the only reason I haven’t went ahead with doing exactly that is Claire, though. This raven-haired beauty is likely the reason I’m still here with you all instead of in purgatory awaiting heavenly judgement. At least of all the things that have went wrong, she’s stuck by me through them since the night after Breakthrough 46. Maybe now she can make me feel a bit better? I’m dressed in little more than a black sports bra and pink panties. I’m basically limp on the bed, as Claire sits beside me, rubbing my back as tenderly and lovingly as possible. While one hand strokes along my back, the other holds up a book of crosswords. She looks so adorable in her glasses, so natural, so...not like the Claire I met. The Claire I knew before would have commented on my appearance but...this is actually far better. This is a Claire I need more than ever at this point.

"Okay, 14 across. Four words. Dynamic with prefix."

The answer to that in hindsight is “aero.” Something I probably should know under normal circumstances. What I don't know is why it has to be a crossword, I suppose this is just Claire's way of trying to keep me calm and distracted.

"I… really couldn’t tell you."

I answer, my mind drawing a blank on the question with Claire blowing out a lungful of air.

"I don't know either. I'm just gonna write "word" again and go from there."

She laughs and begins to write but not only that, I sense her concern as she looks over at me. Something tells her this isn't working as I soon feel her hand stroking gently along my back.

"How are you doing, sweetie?"

She asks. So many descriptors fill my mind, so many words I could say to answer that, but all I can muster is a weak…

“Eugh.”

Claire takes a quick gander back at the puzzle and shrugs.

"That might work for five down."

Though it's not written as she rests the puzzle book aside and turns on the bed toward me lying down and stretching herself out.

"Let it out, sweetie. You've just been crying, you gotta say something about it too."

I feel her place her head on my right shoulder, and it feels really nice. Pretty much the opposite of how I feel.

“Ghuuuugh… I don’t know what to do anymore, Claire. It’s been 164 days since I’ve been without my baby.”

Claire shrugs her shoulders a little.

"What did you do before then?"

Not exactly what I needed to hear, but...Claire wasn't exactly knowledgeable about this sort of environment. But her heart is at least in the right place, I know all she wants is for me to be happy. That doesn’t stop me from telling her my version of the truth, though.

“Chased and chased and chased, scratched and clawed for a shot to win that title. Turned my career around, stopped wallowing in mediocrity. I’m scared that I’m falling back into said mediocrity, and I don’t want to do that.”

Claire brings herself up on her forearms and smiles.

"It's only been a few days though."

She studies my features for a short bit, finding plenty to keep her smile going.

"I mean you said it yourself, you fought so hard from nothing and got something big for it. You know it's bound to happen again if you keep pushing forward."

That’s not exactly the way I see it, to say the least.

“But, you know the future’s unwritten, just like Doc Brown said. I keep pushing forward, what if all that pushing forward doesn’t mean anything the second time?”

"I know what he said, sweetie. But think of this, if you don't even bother pushing then you know where you're going to go and that's not where you should be.”

That smile of hers only grows more as she leans in pressing her lips to my forehead.

“Keep pushing forward, keep striving to be something you want to be. Even if you fail you can always look back and say that you've tried."

I understand, she really wants me to be happier, but I don’t feel it… I only manage out a quick sigh before just holding Claire tightly and dozing off for a bit.

Act II – Hopefully Not The Same Exact Scene From Two Days Ago

Location – Same Place

Date – June 25th, 2016 @ 6:13 P.M.

You know, I love Claire, and I do appreciate her words, to the point where if I could tattoo words onto my heart without it giving out on contact, only her words would go on there. But, sometimes, loving words only get you so far. Sometimes, what could be seen as tragedy by one, could be construed as selfishness by another. Notice I didn’t say MIS-construed, though. I, and surely a lot of other people, can understand how Zahara said I was sounding selfish during that little pity party I was throwing myself after seeing Thursday’s results a second time. But, at the risk of sounding like an Aleve ad, it’s rather hard to cope, and where loving words fail, you need something tougher. Let’s call it tough love, as corny as that is. So, here I lie, on the bed. I don’t even know what size bed this is anymore, has to be queen sized at most. Expecting there to be a knock on the door any second, I put on an old Cumberland County High band shirt and a pair of plain white pajamas, all with a morose expression, as if I’d rather be doing anything else than putting on clothes and exchanging words with anyone. As if I’d rather be selfish and go to sleep. There it is, there’s a knock or two: I’m guessing Zahara. I walk over to the door, expression unchanged as I open it up, staggering slightly between peeking out and revealing the Magical Maiden.

“Well, welcome to our humble abode.”

I say, with a hint of attempted playful sarcasm, trying to sound happier than I’m sure I look. Mere hours removed from her arrival back home, she steps into the room as I edge back, allowing just enough space between door and wall for that express purpose. I close it behind her and turn to see the magician standing before me with concerned, rather reddened eyes. She... seemed upset... and I immediately felt even more guilty about having her come over so soon after touching down. Then, of course, she pulls me into a hug and I forget about all that was bothering me, even for that brief moment. She liked to joke a lot about how her hugs were world-class. Trust me, I'd have quite a hard time arguing at that moment.

"It's really good to see you, Katie. How are you?"

It’s rather clear she knew that I wasn’t in much of a jokey mood. Why else would her eyes be like they are?

“Slowly dying like the rest of the world… feeling kind of guilty over some things I’ve said, especially to you… feeling like I let everyone down on the biggest VoW stage possible… otherwise, I’m alive. How about you, seems like there’s something on your mind.”

"I feel the same as you do about Fate of the Gods... I mean, you heard how loud it got during my match and you know... well, you know most of what I put myself through to get geared up for it."

She was dressed pretty simply... black VoW hoodie, black jeans, black and purple sneakers. I watched her lower herself onto the edge of the bed, as though she felt the same weight on her shoulders that I felt on mine. Heck, maybe she did.

"We feel like we let everyone down, no matter how much they tell us otherwise. Is that close?"

That smile of hers... even in our respective moods she tried to put one on for me. Even after what I feel wasn’t the best of greetings, and really not the best of moods since Tuesday.

“Yeah, give or take a sentence or two about there not being happy endings in our fed.”

I take a seat on the bed relatively close to the raven-haired magician, placing my elbows onto the space right above my kneecaps, and my folded hands under my chin as I just stare at the floor.

“At least you weren’t thrown out of the ring. At least you got to make a decision about things.”

I state with absolutely no enthusiasm, no gusto, just sounding bored.

"Except that my decision was keep fighting or have my career cut short.  Not the best of choices..."

“Oh, trust me, I’m well aware. I’d arrived at a similar crossroads before. Namely after October after losing to Heath, and almost losing Stacy. I saw the Darkest Hour card the day it came out, and I had to choose between being stuck in that massive rut and having no career beyond being an enhancement talent, or start being a real fighter at Judas Dathyn’s expense. No other choices were acceptable.”

I look over to Zahara with the first real emotion aside from sorrow I’ve felt since Monday night.

"And look where you've gotten since then: amazing friends, two strong relationships, a long title reign that anyone would be proud of... how does one loss erase any of that? Yeah, Ace has the title now, but you won it once, and if you so choose, you could win it again. You're a fighter, Katie. It's in your eyes and in your heart. I've seen and felt it just by being around you."

“I’ve just been trying my best since last November, really. Neither trying nor my best are good enough anymore, though, from the looks of things… I have to do. Or I have to do not. Kinda like Yoda would have said way back when. Like I do have to earn that Quest spot.”

I put extra emphasis on “do” every time it comes out of my mouth. But, immediately, the pessimist in me yells at me to say:

“But, what if Ms. Saint ends up there instead? What happens, then?”

Oh, DARN IT!

"Then you do. People like Tyron or Matt Robinson... they'll try and tell you that only titles matter, that winning at any costs is all that can ever get you ahead. But those people out there in the stands? They'll tell you otherwise. Effort counts, Katie. Doing things right... that counts too. And in their eyes, and in the eyes of everyone who cares about you and this company, from the office to most of the locker room, they're proud of you. They believe in you. That includes me. In fact, it seems like you're the only one who doesn't believe in yourself.”

“But… I did nothing wrong last time, and I lost the Zero Gravity Championship… it’s like I lost my child… it made me feel useless. Like a spoke on the wheel. The one time I felt like I really achieved something, and it’s just… just…”

Waterworks time! I snap for prefaced emphasis.

“GONE, like that. I was aiming for records, I was aiming to be the best Zero Gravity Champion ever… and… and…”

I slowly sink down to my right side while putting my hands over my face, shielding it from everything and everyone… everyone being Zahara and the blubbering brunette in the mirror. But I should have known better, because this woman had a heart as big as… actually, bigger than the whole of California. Next thing I knew, I was crying into her chest and shoulder as opposed to my hands and the bed. My first instinct was to pull back but... the ol' bod wouldn't have any of it. Seems I knew myself better than I... knew my… self. Or something.

"So you win it back and go for the record again. It showed me plenty when you weren't pinned to lose that title. It showed me that neither of them felt like they could put you down and keep you down. That says a lot, Katie. And the fans still cheering you after the match, and don't try and write that off cause I heard 'em, says even more. The only person in the way of you getting back to the top is you. You hearin' me, sweetie?"

She sat back a bit and soon I was looking at her through blurring tears and itchy eyes.  But even through that... there was that smile.

"Whatever it takes. You got this, hear me? You're Katie Moicelle, darn it, and that name means something in VoW!"

I take a moment to let those words sink right in. She’s right! She’s darn right, as she always is! The name Katie Moicelle DOES mean something in Visionaries of Wrestling, dang it, and whether or not I want back the Zero Gravity Title, or if I really want that Case, I gotta MAKE THAT KNOWN!

Act III – Catholicism Reference

Location: A homemade promo thing in Claire’s Residence.

Date: June 25th, 2016 @ 10:30 P.M.

OK, no, I’m not a champion anymore. No, I’m not using my rematch clause. As much as I would love to get that Zero Gravity Title off of Ace Watson and become the first ever two time 0G Champion… believe it or not, I actually foresee bigger things over the horizon for me. Like Quest for The Case, for the extra Ziu Zhong comparison. But, to get to that, an edited version of me needs to pledge something. You all know THE pledge, right? Most of us used to recite it in school, at least where I come from. In a few days, it’s gonna make the most sense to recite it, especially considering my opponent. I sit upon the flight of stairs that leads from my girlfriend’s sex shop down to our room. The walls are just uneven-by-design wooden plank panels, kind of like it was at my grandmother’s house. They look as though they were carved right out of a tree and placed onto a wall, it looks nice; a humble takeaway from the raunchy upstairs and the frankly plain downstairs. Dressed in a plain olive green t-shirt, a white pair of shorts, much like what I wore for track… except white, and nothing else from the shorts down, I appear as the camera turns on. There I sit on the top two steps, looking into space, before I notice the camera staring me in the face. I place my right hand over where my heart is as I continue to look at the wall.

“I pledge allegiance… to the flag… of the United States of America. To the republic for which it stands…”

My hand slowly sinks away from my heart as I look towards the camera, the solemn expression upon my face that I hope to be pulling off not having changed.

“For what the republic stands for, at least it debatably doesn’t poison children’s minds. I wanted to give this Saint City thing a chance, truly. In terms of basic concept, it’s like an actual orphanage, which is all fine and dandy. In terms of basic concept, it’s a fine place. But, considering what I’ve been seeing with Kelsey, Mimi, and my opponent that I’m grateful to even have, this Saint City thing is ultimately… not the finest of places. Yes, it’s like an orphanage, and most orphanages are good places that give kids a place to live. But Saint City is one of the most corrupted orphanages I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen our Orphanage. As many volumes as I feel that speaks, I don’t think you’d understand any of that due to your psychopathy, Rebecca.”

I stand up from the steps and take a few down so I remain in shot. My waist still feels naked without the Zero Gravity Championship around it, as does my left shoulder. Like I said before, it feels weird after 164 days to not have a title with me. I look around those aforementioned areas on me, bringing attention to the lack of any gold-n-blue on me, and force a chuckle, which sounds more like a “humph” before spreading out my arms to bring extra attention to my not having a title.

“I know, weird nowadays, isn’t it? Before, it was unheard of, now it’s… just odd. Rebecca isn’t facing a current Zero Gravity Champion anymore. No, she’s facing what a lot of people would think is rather easy pickings: a version of Katie trying to get back into the swing of things, except aiming for Quest for The Case, and hopefully the Xcel Championship instead of the Zero Gravity Title. She’s facing a Katie who has fallen from bliss, and back to reality over the course of nearly five weeks. She’s facing a Katie who’s been humbled time after time after time, until humbleness was but a word to her. She’s facing someone desperate to stay with the company by any reasonable means necessary, making this match up the start of a new revolution.”

It’s been a bit, but a smile crosses my face, out of amusement of how overused that word actually is.

“Yeah, people throw that word around a lot, revolution. Rebellion. Words like that are just tossed around like potatoes, normally. Casanova English is a notable example to do just that, in that he IS the machine at this point. He can’t rage against himself, he can’t allow it, or else he’ll seem weak. This revolt needs a new leader, and it sure isn’t going to be the head of a corrupt orphanage in your case or his case. Delusions hold both of you back. Acting like the second coming of Jesus Christ who tends to teenagers who can’t think straight to begin with holds you back in particular. While I don’t really hate English, and we have been civil enough towards each other in the past, I’ll admit he can be an ass at times. He has this “utopia justifies the means” way about him, which to me, isn’t a true revolution, it’s just being a dickhead.”

I shrug with more passion than I’ve shown in the past couple weeks since coming to terms with losing what I thought was my baby.

“But, at least English doesn’t consider his Orphans his sons or daughters. His Orphans are his workers, basically. His Orphanage is a separate business, from an outsider’s perspective, anyway. But I can say that at least aside from being the villainous faction in VoW and crushing my ex-fiancée’s dreams of being World Champion, they at least have a moral code that they follow to a T, and even if their sole purpose was to boost English up to the World Visionary Championship, at least they succeeded! Aside from basic concept, what is Saint City’s purpose for existing, other than to promote yourself as the second coming of Jesus Christ of Nazareth?”

My raised eyebrows say it all, I think. They’re some angry eyebrows, without being stuck in scowl, angry Katie mode.

“It’s fitting that I said that I’m entering the Devil’s Den come our match, because that’s who I’m stepping in the ring with. You aren’t a holy figure, Becca… I would say you’re unholy, but it’d sicken me to even entertain that thought for you, because I’m stepping into the ring with a neurotic, delusional, deranged psychopath who believes she’s this holy entity who has nothing but angels as children, who in reality are just as spoiled as I’m sure you were. Not the first time I’ve ever done it, I have two straight wins over Dustin Holt, who claims psychopathy. I’m surprised I’m not crazy, considering both how many head shots I’ve taken in the past four matches I’ve been in, no doubt they’ve taken years off my life, in conjunction with what’s been happening in my personal life since May 12th, in which I’ve basically lived a life in a month. I’m at the end of an old era in my life, I can sense it.”

I put my hands together in a praying fashion for a moment before locking them together, as if I’m in desperation… which I pretty much am at this point.

“This match, if I win, kick starts a new revolution in VoW as a whole. No longer is the Relevancy Crusade… well, relevant. The irony of me not realizing that until I lost a title isn’t lost on me, that’s for sure, but the fact that my match went on immediately before the penultimate match truly shows how far people say I’ve come since last year. I opened Fate of the Gods last year, and I was close to closing it this year, regardless of the actual result. The one who would need a real Relevancy Crusade of sorts is actually you if you lose this match. You would need a crusade, but a crusade falls against a revolution.”

I raise my fist in the air as I say that last line.

“This match, should I win it, kick-starts a new saga for former Zero Gravity Champion Katie Moicelle. We treated Fate of the Gods II as a season finale of sorts. Then, should I win here, I’ll mark it as a second season premiere. So, the wheels of fate continue turning… Saint City or the Devil’s Den, let’s rock this dragon until one of us can’t see straight… you know, not that you ever could, anyway.”

I place my right hand over my heart one last time, before I have to go to bed.

“…one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.”