Post by thewarchild on Aug 28, 2016 18:03:19 GMT -6
Joanna jolts up from her laying position in the bed, looking over to her sleeping lover holding her new belt with a look of pure bliss on her face. "Goldie did it. She fought through herself and silenced all the noise." She whispers to herself, caressing the pale skin of Emma's exposed shoulders.
"And once again I'm forced to remember the differences between us. A leader vs a warrior, an eventuality against a human flaw. She always wins." Pulling the covers tight, Joanna shivers as she speaks her mind, uninhabited, for once.
The sound of a phone buzzing on the table draws Joanna's attention. Just a glance at the screen is enough to turn her gentle hands into hard weapons. "I've kept that part locked away, safe from those I can't bare to lose. Hidden from the world so I won't be sent back, but she's coming, she won't stop calling, clawing her way into my life.”
Trembling Joanna looks over VoW’s World champion with eyes reminiscent of the emerald isle she got them from. As she speaks only the dead can hear her whisper. “I'm sorry Goldie, it's time your Queen surrenders to the nightmare she truly is. I love you, and hope you'll understand." Leaning over, she kisses Emma's forehead before laying back and staring at the ceiling until sleep claims her.
Dear Journal,
What was I thinking? Trying to control my future, hold a leash on my past? I tried Journal, but I couldn’t stop it. Katalina breaking that agreement so early...what was the goal Journal? What was her plan? Oh I can barely think straight with it all. I didn’t want any of this, none of it. Goldie won sure, that is nice, but now she stands alone at the top. Ryder and English both have decided VoW is no longer a good “fit” for them. Gah, Journal, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth to think that Goldie shall stand so unchallenged for so long, making her the old and feeble one. Right, right, Journal I mustn’t get caught up in that thought and lose my way in the sorrow of the future.
No I’m thinking of the brawls and the pain, the blood, the shame, the fights, and the message. All of it Journal, all of it was a lie. I thought I had control, that I knew myself enough to walk on this battlefield known as a career, but I was wrong Journal. My nights are long, I hardly sleep, of course Goldie hasn’t noticed, I WON’T let her. I play nice, Journal, faking sleep until I hear her deep sleep snoring, and then I open my eyes and think about it all. ACE, GPW, VoW, Toad Road, Ms. Lin’s house, the house that started it all. Every place, every action, all of it and still I know NOTHING! Nothing, Journal, I’ve a person insistent about a thought that can’t be true, that I can’t accept and yet she calls, she texts, she emails, and writes, she floods my mind Journal. My one sanctuary left, and she pollutes it, making even my blood filled dreams, nightmares.
Well of course my dreams are bloody, Journal, what did you think they were, flowers and rainbows? No, usually it’s getting vengeance on all that happened before Shields entered my life. But now even that doesn’t ease my mind. Nor to the one’s about Goldie, they...don’t do what they use to. The only realise I get is from herNail of Eris, as I remove a few droplets of my father’s curse from myself, and I know I shouldn’t, Journal. She’d be extremely upset she knew, but all these mixed signals, and failures...they leave me tasting my own copper and less someone else’s.
No worries Journal, I’ve no intention of bailing out of this ride before it’s end. Oh, no Journal, we’ve not even crested the last hill, our ride is more than a quest for gold, it’s about enlightenment. And that is the struggle I face, Journal. I’m suppose to be a messenger of truth, of purity, and of life, true life, yet here I am, writing to you at a party meant to celebrate Strife and the Magician’s union. Writing about my clouded mind and inability to wrangle my desires out of the chaos Goldie and I preach so easily. So effortless it is to talk about about the wind that is ever blowing, Journal. But we don’t control it, we don’t even harold it, no we chase it, until it’s too late and we’re caught up in the storm we desired but failed to try to understand.
And now Journal, will all the veils removed I face someone that I don’t want to hurt, I kinda like him actual, oh hush Journal. Yes like that, but my loyalty is to Goldie, and she is the one thing I would die for. I live for her, Journal, I do, but with her success I’ve had to rethink my approach to VoW. To be honest this match is one I want to enjoy, someone that wants to prove he’s the same guy and it was merely the monster he took down that darkened him. That I can do, but I’m scared Journal. Slater is needed in the locker room, and in world. Journal, he’s that storybook character that every girl wants to sweep her off her feet. But he let Iser darken him, turning those that loved him to question is he really the Knight of their dreams. But I know the truth, it’s my curse after all, and he needs me to be the monster I’ve held back. Journal a monster known only by cell number, that put a lunatic in a straitjacket with the aid of a hammer, that found her love when she was bloodied by them. Slater needs that monster Journal, I’m just afraid to lose myself in it.
I can make Slater look like the Knight he is, Journal, that’s the easy part. A match between the two of us, well it’ll be like when Goldie and I squared off without the blood, and relationship, fall out. He’ll be prepared for a fight, a struggle, and what he believes are my limits. Journal, Slater won’t be easy, and if I merely walk in like I am now, he’ll walk over me no problem. But he wants to prove himself, he wouldn’t have taken the match if he didn’t, and I can do that Journal, I’m just not sure I’ll come back the same person. I want Slater to be seen for the guy he is, and if that means I have to become the blood witch I’m perceived as then damnit Journal! I’ll wear the damn hat and ride a broom to the ring to show them that Slater’s display at HeatStroke is a mere pittance compared to what War can deliver.
I’m the Red Rider, blood is my fuel and Death my mistress. Strife gave me new life and while my mind may not be my own I can, I CAN, deliver on my promises. Slater shall be the Shining Knight of VoW and if I have to cave in his armor to do it, then Journal that is what I’ll do. I’ll write more later but the party calls and I think Slater just showed up, can’t have him read you just yet.
“So.. you truly mean to go through with this?”
“I’m the one that offered the challenge, I should at least give him the fight he expects. This wasn’t management, it was me.”
“Why, now, is control something you clutch so desperately at? The mere thought of it has you threatening to tear yourself in half to attempt accomplishment of divergent goals simultaneously. This is not the War I know.”
“Y...yo...you’re...right.”
“I know that stare, Joanna. The raging violence in you percolates and there’s but one target within reach. Will you follow that instinct? Will you rip apart the one who gives freedom to your heart, mind and soul?”
“No, Goldie. While I want to, it’s all I’m good for after all. You’re right and I dare not challenge the champion in her own home. Let alone when I’ve a previous engagement.”
“I’ve a Knight to humble and you’ve a wolf to slay. I was the fool that thought the storm was mine to direct, knowing we merely follow it’s wake.”
“The whims of the gods are not oft made for mortal hands and even we who ride are not infallible. An error was made though hardly one of a mortal level. Come forth, my love, and don your crimson armor.”
“Goldie… thank you. I shan't lose sight of the ride again, but know that THAT armor is hard to take off, when donned correctly”
“I’ve never minded the effort, Joanna. You are my most defiant and taxing challenge… and by the same token my darkest and most treasured joy. A chaotic life wrapped in warm flesh and fiery steel.”
“Slatie, I’m sorry it’s come to this. Truly, for you see, you finally got your vengeance, served justice on a crimson table. Yet, while you did this, I sat back and wasted my time thinking I could control my fate, something I gave up long ago.”
“Now don't go thinking I’m referring to the collection of my sisters, no that was merely me claiming a title already destined for me. Before I left Toad Road, I forsook the lie of free will. I surrendered to the will of Chaos, and forgot my place following that abysmal performance at Fate of the Gods. I proved that even when I don’t give a damn about what happens I’m formidable, and now…”
“You face a focused, serious, Warchild, bent on hurting you.”
“I promised you something special, and that I’d prove that the world hadn’t seen anything yet in regard to the depths I’d go. So if you think a Taser was bad, that a hammer may be crossing the line? That’s right Slatie, I watched what you did to Seth. I thought it was delicious how you methodically returned each and every slight he performed against you, but you choked at the finish. You held his life in your hands, and instead of claiming it for yourself, not ending it, but claiming it, you threw it away for a small blood price.”
“Cera is long gone, as is your white armor. Once a pillar of nobility and proof that decent men exist, you’ve traded that in for Envy, Greed, Gluttony, Rage, Pride, and Lust. Six out of seven, the majority wins Slatie, you’re as tainted as the rest of us, crazies. Deny or accept it all you want Slatie, it changes nothing. You’ve merely adopted the darkness, I was raised in it, molded by it Slatie, you’re DECADES behind me.”
“Twelve years my senior, you’ve forgotten more than I’ll ever know about wrestling, but you’ve only dared tiptoe into the shallow end of the ocean that is most primal state a human can know. Let me tell you a little secret Slatie, morals are what separate those without chains, and those a slave to the society that created them. You tasted freedom and yet want to go back, congratulations on your ability to control yourself, but that’s the issue isn’t it.”
“You controlled yourself at her bedside, as she faded from this world. You controlled yourself when Iser attacked, and provoked you. You CONtrolled yourself when you took your pound of flesh and left the rest to recover, UN-indebted to you. You CONTROLLED yourself when you raised my chin, and fought your desires because your morals demanded it. Slatie, you’re a slave, unable to live in my world, unwilling to go the distance.
I’ve never teased you Slatie, everything I’ve offered has been sincere. But one can only lead a horse to water, you just refuse to drink. And I’m tired of waiting. You proved you could take a small sip against Iser, but as I said before shallow end, verse the ocean. How far can you bring yourself against me? Do I remind you of her, is that why you’re so vexed, or is it just my body?”
“Nah, you’re not that much of a pig, but let me ask you. When I’m on the mat, bruised and bloodied from your fist, on the edge of death, and I look at you pleading for mercy; will you give in like with Iser, or will you understand the true mercy you can offer? You see Slatie, the reason
Goldie and I work so well is we understand a simple fact. To rebuild something, you have obliterate all that was there before. YOU! Lack the conviction to leave nothing left breath, even Iser, whom you swore deserved the lowest circle of hell, you left able to rise from his injuries and come back.
Unlike English and Ryder, when we destroy something we make sure it cannot come back, it’s only option is to leave, or admit the folly of opposing us. Don’t mention Neon, don’t you dare mention Neon, for while we sought destruction, that was an oversight I’ve paid for every night since.”
“What am I saying, go ahead and mention it you old war horse. Prove that the past is what gives you power, like that jacket of yours and all the names you’ve defeated only to be out shown later. You’re the measuring stick, Slatie, the opening act. Once they surpass you they’ve proven their drawing power and get moved up to the real money, while you stay at the bottom. Sure you get your spots in, you steal the show, but you’re never THE guy, just a guy. Well actually you are THE guy, you’re the fall guy. ‘Oh Slater would you be a dear and elevate this up and comer, we think he’s got a great future.' 'Sure boss anything, would you like me to just bend over or actually put on the full show?’ Come on Slatie, even I get a reach around when I’m just collecting a check. But enough foreplay. Yes SlatER that was the foreplay.”
“I’m not underestimating you Slater, Iser did that and you sent him out on a gurney. No, I’m just done with all the drama, and bullshit. I swore to not take a match seriously if Emma wasn’t at my side. Today I publicly declare my mistake in that. Datura, Zahara, Massey, and Strife, if you want your actual matches, you know where to find me. I’ll give you what you owe and more.
Slater, however, we’ve never met in the ring, and you were the first to welcome me to VoW. You should have known the second my true intentions were revealed at Darkest Hour, that one day that debt would be collected. You seek to begin a new chapter to your life, then let me ink the pages the blood I get from busting open that head Seth started. You know I’m a head case, so why face me with a giant target on yours?”
“My Golden Princess claimed the throne for herself, and I sat back with my thumb up my ass waiting for management to heed my call. I’m done playing the fool, Slater, I’m done pretending I have control over anything anymore. So when I say I’m sorry, it’s not because I’m sorry of what pulverized state I leave you. No, I’m sorry you took the battle field against me, thinking you had a hope of survival. You are one of the few I’d like to prove me wrong, but it won’t happen Slater.
You see, most have to find it in themselves to push into their true ability. I’ve known it for years, as I fought to survive from a young age. And while I locked my more...inhuman tendencies away when I joined VoW, I’m forced to unleash them to show that this Horsewomen EARNED her name. I’m not someone that a name was picked or molded for, to allow me to fit in. I thrive in the fight, where seeing red isn’t a question of if, but a fact of when. You proved that you can access that ability, but I’m already there.
I hear your heartbeat Slater, they way your blood speeds up at the sight of me. The way your eyes taken in each feature as if I’m a precious work of art. The warmth in your cheeks and hands as your flesh meet mine. I know your scent as you fight with yourself about what you want from me. Now understand that you have to not only combat that urge but fight me when all I want is to make you bleed. I won’t submit you, no, you will cry in pain, moan in discomfort, and before the match is over I’ll have you on all fours face to face with the reality of the monster you helped unleash.”
“Prepare yourself Slatie, not for battle, no that was what Seth Iser was. You face an all out WAR, at Breakthrough. No quarter, no mercy, no hesitation, a bloodbath for the ages. Breakthrough’s Golden Show will be one none forgets. It’s the faded White Knight, against the chaotic nightmare of unending, unyielding, uncaring War. I hope the kids watch, as I prove that the Knight of hope and Justice is a flawed and false, and the man, Matt Slater, is just like the rest of the locker room. A puppet for VoW, unable to finish what he starts, and as blind as society. You may think you’re taking me seriously Slatie, but you’ve faced nothing like me before.”
"And once again I'm forced to remember the differences between us. A leader vs a warrior, an eventuality against a human flaw. She always wins." Pulling the covers tight, Joanna shivers as she speaks her mind, uninhabited, for once.
The sound of a phone buzzing on the table draws Joanna's attention. Just a glance at the screen is enough to turn her gentle hands into hard weapons. "I've kept that part locked away, safe from those I can't bare to lose. Hidden from the world so I won't be sent back, but she's coming, she won't stop calling, clawing her way into my life.”
Trembling Joanna looks over VoW’s World champion with eyes reminiscent of the emerald isle she got them from. As she speaks only the dead can hear her whisper. “I'm sorry Goldie, it's time your Queen surrenders to the nightmare she truly is. I love you, and hope you'll understand." Leaning over, she kisses Emma's forehead before laying back and staring at the ceiling until sleep claims her.
Dear Journal,
What was I thinking? Trying to control my future, hold a leash on my past? I tried Journal, but I couldn’t stop it. Katalina breaking that agreement so early...what was the goal Journal? What was her plan? Oh I can barely think straight with it all. I didn’t want any of this, none of it. Goldie won sure, that is nice, but now she stands alone at the top. Ryder and English both have decided VoW is no longer a good “fit” for them. Gah, Journal, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth to think that Goldie shall stand so unchallenged for so long, making her the old and feeble one. Right, right, Journal I mustn’t get caught up in that thought and lose my way in the sorrow of the future.
No I’m thinking of the brawls and the pain, the blood, the shame, the fights, and the message. All of it Journal, all of it was a lie. I thought I had control, that I knew myself enough to walk on this battlefield known as a career, but I was wrong Journal. My nights are long, I hardly sleep, of course Goldie hasn’t noticed, I WON’T let her. I play nice, Journal, faking sleep until I hear her deep sleep snoring, and then I open my eyes and think about it all. ACE, GPW, VoW, Toad Road, Ms. Lin’s house, the house that started it all. Every place, every action, all of it and still I know NOTHING! Nothing, Journal, I’ve a person insistent about a thought that can’t be true, that I can’t accept and yet she calls, she texts, she emails, and writes, she floods my mind Journal. My one sanctuary left, and she pollutes it, making even my blood filled dreams, nightmares.
Well of course my dreams are bloody, Journal, what did you think they were, flowers and rainbows? No, usually it’s getting vengeance on all that happened before Shields entered my life. But now even that doesn’t ease my mind. Nor to the one’s about Goldie, they...don’t do what they use to. The only realise I get is from her
No worries Journal, I’ve no intention of bailing out of this ride before it’s end. Oh, no Journal, we’ve not even crested the last hill, our ride is more than a quest for gold, it’s about enlightenment. And that is the struggle I face, Journal. I’m suppose to be a messenger of truth, of purity, and of life, true life, yet here I am, writing to you at a party meant to celebrate Strife and the Magician’s union. Writing about my clouded mind and inability to wrangle my desires out of the chaos Goldie and I preach so easily. So effortless it is to talk about about the wind that is ever blowing, Journal. But we don’t control it, we don’t even harold it, no we chase it, until it’s too late and we’re caught up in the storm we desired but failed to try to understand.
And now Journal, will all the veils removed I face someone that I don’t want to hurt, I kinda like him actual, oh hush Journal. Yes like that, but my loyalty is to Goldie, and she is the one thing I would die for. I live for her, Journal, I do, but with her success I’ve had to rethink my approach to VoW. To be honest this match is one I want to enjoy, someone that wants to prove he’s the same guy and it was merely the monster he took down that darkened him. That I can do, but I’m scared Journal. Slater is needed in the locker room, and in world. Journal, he’s that storybook character that every girl wants to sweep her off her feet. But he let Iser darken him, turning those that loved him to question is he really the Knight of their dreams. But I know the truth, it’s my curse after all, and he needs me to be the monster I’ve held back. Journal a monster known only by cell number, that put a lunatic in a straitjacket with the aid of a hammer, that found her love when she was bloodied by them. Slater needs that monster Journal, I’m just afraid to lose myself in it.
I can make Slater look like the Knight he is, Journal, that’s the easy part. A match between the two of us, well it’ll be like when Goldie and I squared off without the blood, and relationship, fall out. He’ll be prepared for a fight, a struggle, and what he believes are my limits. Journal, Slater won’t be easy, and if I merely walk in like I am now, he’ll walk over me no problem. But he wants to prove himself, he wouldn’t have taken the match if he didn’t, and I can do that Journal, I’m just not sure I’ll come back the same person. I want Slater to be seen for the guy he is, and if that means I have to become the blood witch I’m perceived as then damnit Journal! I’ll wear the damn hat and ride a broom to the ring to show them that Slater’s display at HeatStroke is a mere pittance compared to what War can deliver.
I’m the Red Rider, blood is my fuel and Death my mistress. Strife gave me new life and while my mind may not be my own I can, I CAN, deliver on my promises. Slater shall be the Shining Knight of VoW and if I have to cave in his armor to do it, then Journal that is what I’ll do. I’ll write more later but the party calls and I think Slater just showed up, can’t have him read you just yet.
“So.. you truly mean to go through with this?”
Her words, she knows I’m not all here, she knows I’m not at my full strength. No smile, no coy grin, her flat tone echos and berates my mind. Did she read...no Goldie wouldn’t do that. She just knows me, and my lack of manic fits probably doesn’t help me hide my issues.
“I’m the one that offered the challenge, I should at least give him the fight he expects. This wasn’t management, it was me.”
Whether or not she believes me doesn’t matter, I’m a mere warrior and she is the reaper. Bathed in gold and having reaped the king, recently, cementing all her doubts in their place. She found the strength I lack, the direction when even a compass refuses to stop spinning. My only tether in the storm of my mind, yet her eyes…
What!? How dare she? I’ve not sought cont...but I have. I forced my career in a direction unwilling to accept what Chaos had planned.
“Y...yo...you’re...right.”
I sound so weak, but that doesn’t matter. I knew better, I should be better. Why does she have to always be right? ALWAYS! No… no... she did nothing wrong she is just trying to help. But I can’t help it, this anger, my blood is heating and I can see red. I want to taste it, to taste her.
“I know that stare, Joanna. The raging violence in you percolates and there’s but one target within reach. Will you follow that instinct? Will you rip apart the one who gives freedom to your heart, mind and soul?”
Isn’t that why you love me Goldie, because regardless of relationship, I view everyone as a target? Or is it because once I start a fight, I can’t stop until one side is completely spent? She knows my buttons, she knows my triggers and moves, yet she teases my bloodlust? Whatever her game I won’t play, Slater is my focus, and she isn’t worth the fallout.
“No, Goldie. While I want to, it’s all I’m good for after all. You’re right and I dare not challenge the champion in her own home. Let alone when I’ve a previous engagement.”
That’s right, grin my love, we’ve not bantered like this for a while. While it was my fault, maybe I needed to lose my way only to remember who I am. War.
“I’ve a Knight to humble and you’ve a wolf to slay. I was the fool that thought the storm was mine to direct, knowing we merely follow it’s wake.”
She slides so effortlessly off the washing machine as the moon grabs her hair. I want to bow, to respect her glow, but equals show no such give, for she is Death, and I War. Two forces representing the most basic duality in our complexity, life and death, what a dance we play.
Her lips are oddly warm, yet they cool my temper. Refocusing me to my target, and our ride. Slater wants a war well he’ll get a War. But after I hold her, take in her scent, let her hands send shivers up my exposed back. Give me those lips...no not the time. Her eyes are too knowing, it’s time we arm up.
“Goldie… thank you. I shan't lose sight of the ride again, but know that THAT armor is hard to take off, when donned correctly”
Always the phantom at night with her gown I’m glad we left the compound. Here I can be myself, my weak self. But her words, her eyes, her touch, they give me the strength to level nations. Strife can play the left hand all she wants, I’ll be Death’s right and lay waste to VoW as Chaos deems it so. No more misguided attempts to decide my own fate. I ride the winds of Chaos and it’s time Slater felt their gale.
With that she leaves, and I feel the warmth in my cheeks. She has a fairytale to set right, and it’s time I made the Knight aware that his armor is only as good as the blacksmith that forged it. I wield a hammer as much for it’s sheer power, as I do it’s versatility as a tool. My phone, silly that I find myself imitating Strife more and more after her generous offer.
The night air is a far cry from Goldie’s arms but it’ll do. I love the stillness of the night, for once I can quiet the storm of my mind...okay. Slatie, it’s time to put you down and unleash the torrent I’ve held in for far too long.
Oh so long ago.
“Now don't go thinking I’m referring to the collection of my sisters, no that was merely me claiming a title already destined for me. Before I left Toad Road, I forsook the lie of free will. I surrendered to the will of Chaos, and forgot my place following that abysmal performance at Fate of the Gods. I proved that even when I don’t give a damn about what happens I’m formidable, and now…”
I can’t help but giggle at the idea of facing him for real. Not mere banter but a true fight, and Slatie surely has hammer experience. Unless Cera just let him lay it down on her.
“You face a focused, serious, Warchild, bent on hurting you.”
Think about it Slatie, Maxwell, Zahara AND Datura, without so much as a field to cultivate the fucks I didn’t give. You’re hurt, without a motive, and direction, yet you accepted a challenge I wanted.
“I promised you something special, and that I’d prove that the world hadn’t seen anything yet in regard to the depths I’d go. So if you think a Taser was bad, that a hammer may be crossing the line? That’s right Slatie, I watched what you did to Seth. I thought it was delicious how you methodically returned each and every slight he performed against you, but you choked at the finish. You held his life in your hands, and instead of claiming it for yourself, not ending it, but claiming it, you threw it away for a small blood price.”
You’ve no idea what a small pittance you accepted, and that among all else is where we differ my dear Knight. You dared to claim domination of a force of nature and now face an awakened beast that most didn’t know was sleeping. Looking into my eyes and feel the heat of the war engine.
“Cera is long gone, as is your white armor. Once a pillar of nobility and proof that decent men exist, you’ve traded that in for Envy, Greed, Gluttony, Rage, Pride, and Lust. Six out of seven, the majority wins Slatie, you’re as tainted as the rest of us, crazies. Deny or accept it all you want Slatie, it changes nothing. You’ve merely adopted the darkness, I was raised in it, molded by it Slatie, you’re DECADES behind me.”
Farther, I need to push farther, this is not even a drop. I need to unload, I need to tenderize him into the meatsack that they all are. A hopeless, meaningless puppet for the masters to use, abuse and toss aside.
“Twelve years my senior, you’ve forgotten more than I’ll ever know about wrestling, but you’ve only dared tiptoe into the shallow end of the ocean that is most primal state a human can know. Let me tell you a little secret Slatie, morals are what separate those without chains, and those a slave to the society that created them. You tasted freedom and yet want to go back, congratulations on your ability to control yourself, but that’s the issue isn’t it.”
The jugular Joanna, the jugular.
“You controlled yourself at her bedside, as she faded from this world. You controlled yourself when Iser attacked, and provoked you. You CONtrolled yourself when you took your pound of flesh and left the rest to recover, UN-indebted to you. You CONTROLLED yourself when you raised my chin, and fought your desires because your morals demanded it. Slatie, you’re a slave, unable to live in my world, unwilling to go the distance.
I’ve never teased you Slatie, everything I’ve offered has been sincere. But one can only lead a horse to water, you just refuse to drink. And I’m tired of waiting. You proved you could take a small sip against Iser, but as I said before shallow end, verse the ocean. How far can you bring yourself against me? Do I remind you of her, is that why you’re so vexed, or is it just my body?”
A smirk, a crooked smile, eat your heart out Slater, it’s all for you. But I don’t want your body, just your blood as I rip out your very soul and pummel it until even Death can’t claim it. No Slater, you’re mine, I marked you the day I walked in, and until your last breath you’re my toy to bend and twist however I want you to.
“Nah, you’re not that much of a pig, but let me ask you. When I’m on the mat, bruised and bloodied from your fist, on the edge of death, and I look at you pleading for mercy; will you give in like with Iser, or will you understand the true mercy you can offer? You see Slatie, the reason
Goldie and I work so well is we understand a simple fact. To rebuild something, you have obliterate all that was there before. YOU! Lack the conviction to leave nothing left breath, even Iser, whom you swore deserved the lowest circle of hell, you left able to rise from his injuries and come back.
Unlike English and Ryder, when we destroy something we make sure it cannot come back, it’s only option is to leave, or admit the folly of opposing us. Don’t mention Neon, don’t you dare mention Neon, for while we sought destruction, that was an oversight I’ve paid for every night since.”
Keep it together, they didn’t out perform, Goldie and I just underestimated...fuck holding back. I told Goldie I’d be her War, screw the inhibitors.
I’m done with the games, with the doubt. He’s a pillar of VoW and while Goldie as topled one, this one is mine.
Slater, however, we’ve never met in the ring, and you were the first to welcome me to VoW. You should have known the second my true intentions were revealed at Darkest Hour, that one day that debt would be collected. You seek to begin a new chapter to your life, then let me ink the pages the blood I get from busting open that head Seth started. You know I’m a head case, so why face me with a giant target on yours?”
I haven’t felt this alive going into a fight in a while. Goldie, I owe you so much for the direction and reminder of my true purpose. I am War, and it is in my own fires that I am unmatched. Death might hold an icy grip on the title, but it is War that shall lay waste to the rodents and deal with the unworthy peasants.
You see, most have to find it in themselves to push into their true ability. I’ve known it for years, as I fought to survive from a young age. And while I locked my more...inhuman tendencies away when I joined VoW, I’m forced to unleash them to show that this Horsewomen EARNED her name. I’m not someone that a name was picked or molded for, to allow me to fit in. I thrive in the fight, where seeing red isn’t a question of if, but a fact of when. You proved that you can access that ability, but I’m already there.
I hear your heartbeat Slater, they way your blood speeds up at the sight of me. The way your eyes taken in each feature as if I’m a precious work of art. The warmth in your cheeks and hands as your flesh meet mine. I know your scent as you fight with yourself about what you want from me. Now understand that you have to not only combat that urge but fight me when all I want is to make you bleed. I won’t submit you, no, you will cry in pain, moan in discomfort, and before the match is over I’ll have you on all fours face to face with the reality of the monster you helped unleash.”
You poor, poor thing. I can’t wait to lick your tears of frustration, realization, and defeat off those perfect cheekbones. But they won’t taste nearly as good as the copper bliss that holds your hopes and dreams, and the sweet tonic that is your sins.
“Prepare yourself Slatie, not for battle, no that was what Seth Iser was. You face an all out WAR, at Breakthrough. No quarter, no mercy, no hesitation, a bloodbath for the ages. Breakthrough’s Golden Show will be one none forgets. It’s the faded White Knight, against the chaotic nightmare of unending, unyielding, uncaring War. I hope the kids watch, as I prove that the Knight of hope and Justice is a flawed and false, and the man, Matt Slater, is just like the rest of the locker room. A puppet for VoW, unable to finish what he starts, and as blind as society. You may think you’re taking me seriously Slatie, but you’ve faced nothing like me before.”
Enough! Anymore and I might just start a manic fit. Not now, no, no, not now. It’s time to go to war, and that means Hephty, time to go to work.
