Post by synn on Dec 6, 2023 2:17:57 GMT -5
Panting.
The cold air cut my lungs to shards, like thousands of glass pieces instantaneously crushed. My nose felt drier than brick in the winter, and I just knew there was a blue ring around it. White, pale white, with a blue ring. It itched too, but hurt to touch. It felt like it could crumble off my face at any moment.
My feet felt like they didn't exist. Just a numb sensation from the waist down. If I wasn't mistaken, I would think I didn't have legs. Where have my legs gone?
Panting.
I couldn't feel my legs, I wasn't sure why. They had given me some sort of shot, and I was numb from my hip bone down. The room was white and sterile, with everything looking creepy-clean. There was a sheet covering my lower half, and a table with instruments I couldn't make out across the way. I couldn't lift my head to see the flat surface of the table from the angled stirrups I was in. God knows what lie on that table, that is when I heard the sound of someone turning the door handle.
I didn't know how much further I could go. My feet--if I still had feet--had to be battered beyond repair from the rough terrain and inadequate footing. I stopped, putting my hands on my knees. I could see my breath. I could feel my chest rise and fall as my glass lungs felt as though they were rubbing together. I stopped for a quick second to look through frozen over eyes. I saw the dead and mutilated bodies of my camp-mates. We had all escaped together. Some got a little further than I did. Some didn't make it this far. I knew right then that I was going to die.
"Let's take a looksee, shall we?" His voice was emotionless, like he had done this before. What am I talking about? Of course he had. He did this for a living. A paid murderer. I felt like telling him not to touch me, but I knew that wouldn't work in my favor. He was going to take what he wanted regardless.
That is when I heard the sounds. Muffled growls, some pants, I could almost hear the stares of the eyes drilling a hole through me.
I could feel their disdain for me. But I didn't care, I needed to run. I needed to win. I needed to beat this foe. These monsters. I knew damn well that I would probably end up like the others, but dammit I needed to try. I took off running and so did they. I could hear them behind me, closing in and gaining speed with every step.
He told me that it won't hurt. That I was numbed well enough. He had a tool that looked like salad tongs. I knew what they were. I wanted to get up off the table. To run. I would wait another 5-6 months and suffer the repercussions. Not this, anything but this. I closed my eyes and gulped because deep down, I knew I had to.
The metal felt cold on my inner thigh.
I could feel the claws in my back and the teeth on the back of my neck. The warm breath, and the loud growl that sounded like the most evil thing I had ever heard. I still continued to run, I refused to let it bring me down. If it did, I wouldn't make it easy. The power was unmitigated. It was unmatched. Like nothing I had ever felt. I knew that before I blinked this creature could kill me. I braced for it.
The power he had over me was amazing. I didn't want to do it, but he made it all seem like it was right. His power over me I couldn't explain, but what did I know? I was just dumb teenager. I felt like something that was happening that was my fault, but something I also couldn't control. This man had me where he wanted me. He could do what he wanted to me and even though my hands were free I was powerless to stop him. Before I knew it, however, he was done, and he had taken a piece of me with him. I showed him no fear, and he didn't hurt me. This man was a wolf. He was hunting, and he ate, at my expense. But it was an expense I was more than glad to pay. What kind of monster was I?
The wolf dragged me to the ground, and I saw a quick move for my jugular. I braced for the impact--braced for death. But the wolf stopped. It stared at me. I looked it dead in its eye. We made eye contact for several minutes. This creature could do what it wanted with me, but it backed off. It didn't kill me on that day. I showed it no fear, and it didn't kill me. What king of monster is this? A rational monster isn't a monster at all.......but an apex.
There was nothing like an Alaskan Night. Juniper remembered sitting out by the lake, looking up at the endless foreverness, and there was a certain calming element to it. The light from the stars……those always fascinated her. Like little flashlights a lifetime away. When you see the lights, you aren’t seeing them as they are, you are seeing them as they were. A star eight lightyears away…..you’re seeing it how it looked eight years ago. That star could be nothing by dust now, but as far as you knew, right there, in that moment, it was as big and vibrant as you could comprehend.
It was nights like this that took her mind off the worry and stress of everyday life. This is how she told herself that bullies didn’t matter. They say her how she looked now, but when she got older and she did something different with her life, they would still view her the same way because they are stuck in a reality that she wasn’t. They could never see her true shine, because they were too busy viewing her past.
She remembered sighing as a cool breeze hit her. It was always a cool breeze, even if the temperature wasn’t. It came off the ocean. She ran a hand through her hair as she smiled a bit, laying back on her elbows. Her eyes shifted to another perplexing aspect of the great beyond. The moon. Responsible for so much on this planet. The brightest and largest object in our night sky, the Moon makes Earth a more livable planet by moderating our home planet's wobble on its axis, leading to a relatively stable climate. It also causes tides, creating a rhythm that has guided humans for thousands of years. Yet ‘the man on the moon’ was shrouded in controversy. Some say it's aliens, some take the science route and say they are giant craters or mountains, some like to get lost in the lore of conspiracy. For Juniper, she liked to believe that the man on the moon, whatever it was in its physical form, was watching her. Guiding her. Looking over her shoulder. Protecting her. It gave her the freedom of mind to decide if what she was looking at was real.
As reality snapped back to her like a rubber band leaving a finger, she blinked a few times to make sure she wasn’t still daydreaming. There was so much she was grateful for, but she couldn’t help in reminiscing about the life she left behind.
She got up from her chair and went to the window. The old roadside motel in Hamilton, Ontario wasn’t well lit from the outside, and it gave her a perfect view of the stars above her. They always looked the same, but she knew they weren’t. Hell, she’d be long retired before she saw them for how they really are. And that moon…..the big white cookie in the black abyss and those off-brown blotches that resembled a face.
She looked down, looked away, she couldn’t face him.
Couldn’t face him because as much as she wanted to believe with every fiber of her being that he was real, something inside her told her otherwise.
She had covered up all the mirrors in the room with black trash bags and some duct tape. She didn’t want to see what she had become, either. She knew the girl who used to sit out and look at the sky on those long nights was gone and what was here was something she’d tried her entire life to repress. She didn’t want to give it clout. Didn’t want to give it any notoriety.
SYNN.
She didn’t recognize herself anymore, but she was as successful as she’d ever been. Everything she hated inside her has made her the best in the wrestling world, and a wrestler was all she ever wanted to be. People still looked at her as Juniper from Anchorage, but when she looked in the mirror she saw someone different.
LIAR!!!
She smacked the window, hard enough to rattle the frame. She was a “star” now, for sure. Living a life totally different than anything she’d ever thought possible, but people only saw her for her past. By the time she got the recognition for winning the OCW World Championship by cashing in on PIC, beating Easton Alexander–TWICE–and putting a fledgling company on her back like a koala and its joey….
Hell by the time anyone truly saw that, she’d be a puff of smoke in the endless abyss of time.
The moon lit the room, and she could feel him watching. Judging. His eyes were narrow slits as he browbeat her into looking back up. There he was. It was like she could see his face.
She could also see her own reflection. Scattered blotches of various colors that sweat smeared on her face, left on from her last war in the ring.
Battle scars.
She slapped the window again and she swore it would break.
Her head filled with laughter from the man, he was taunting her now.
She looked away. The ear-splitting cackles too much to handle. She slithered back into the dark room, her only solace from her tormentor a quarter million miles away.
“It isn’t real, it isn’t real, it isn’t real” the mantra she chanted over and over as she pulled the skin below her eyes. “He isn’t real, he isn't real, he isn't real.”
Another voice broke the chaos.
“He isn’t real.”
She stopped dead in her tracks. She knew the voice had some from her lips but she didn’t say the words…….
“Khloe Cox isn’t real. Like the man on the moon, she’s an optical illusion. Once you stop believing, she goes away. Poof.”
Her voice was light and airy, but the next sentence came out as a growl.
“Khloe Cox is like the moon man. She only exists because I allow her to.”
Her eyes shot wider than the moon's illumination.
“She isn’t real.” She said, and it was her voice again.
“Khloe Cox isn’t real.”
Somewhere, an owl hummed its tune.
PETER VAUGHN AND J MONT CAN BOAST ALL THEY WANT. BUT SYNN IS THE APEX PREDATOR.
AND TONIGHT'S MEAL.
KHLOE COX.
There was nothing like an Alaskan Night. Juniper remembered sitting out by the lake, looking up at the endless foreverness, and there was a certain calming element to it. The light from the stars……those always fascinated her. Like little flashlights a lifetime away. When you see the lights, you aren’t seeing them as they are, you are seeing them as they were. A star eight lightyears away…..you’re seeing it how it looked eight years ago. That star could be nothing by dust now, but as far as you knew, right there, in that moment, it was as big and vibrant as you could comprehend.
It was nights like this that took her mind off the worry and stress of everyday life. This is how she told herself that bullies didn’t matter. They say her how she looked now, but when she got older and she did something different with her life, they would still view her the same way because they are stuck in a reality that she wasn’t. They could never see her true shine, because they were too busy viewing her past.
She remembered sighing as a cool breeze hit her. It was always a cool breeze, even if the temperature wasn’t. It came off the ocean. She ran a hand through her hair as she smiled a bit, laying back on her elbows. Her eyes shifted to another perplexing aspect of the great beyond. The moon. Responsible for so much on this planet. The brightest and largest object in our night sky, the Moon makes Earth a more livable planet by moderating our home planet's wobble on its axis, leading to a relatively stable climate. It also causes tides, creating a rhythm that has guided humans for thousands of years. Yet ‘the man on the moon’ was shrouded in controversy. Some say it's aliens, some take the science route and say they are giant craters or mountains, some like to get lost in the lore of conspiracy. For Juniper, she liked to believe that the man on the moon, whatever it was in its physical form, was watching her. Guiding her. Looking over her shoulder. Protecting her. It gave her the freedom of mind to decide if what she was looking at was real.
As reality snapped back to her like a rubber band leaving a finger, she blinked a few times to make sure she wasn’t still daydreaming. There was so much she was grateful for, but she couldn’t help in reminiscing about the life she left behind.
She got up from her chair and went to the window. The old roadside motel in Hamilton, Ontario wasn’t well lit from the outside, and it gave her a perfect view of the stars above her. They always looked the same, but she knew they weren’t. Hell, she’d be long retired before she saw them for how they really are. And that moon…..the big white cookie in the black abyss and those off-brown blotches that resembled a face.
She looked down, looked away, she couldn’t face him.
Couldn’t face him because as much as she wanted to believe with every fiber of her being that he was real, something inside her told her otherwise.
She had covered up all the mirrors in the room with black trash bags and some duct tape. She didn’t want to see what she had become, either. She knew the girl who used to sit out and look at the sky on those long nights was gone and what was here was something she’d tried her entire life to repress. She didn’t want to give it clout. Didn’t want to give it any notoriety.
SYNN.
She didn’t recognize herself anymore, but she was as successful as she’d ever been. Everything she hated inside her has made her the best in the wrestling world, and a wrestler was all she ever wanted to be. People still looked at her as Juniper from Anchorage, but when she looked in the mirror she saw someone different.
LIAR!!!
She smacked the window, hard enough to rattle the frame. She was a “star” now, for sure. Living a life totally different than anything she’d ever thought possible, but people only saw her for her past. By the time she got the recognition for winning the OCW World Championship by cashing in on PIC, beating Easton Alexander–TWICE–and putting a fledgling company on her back like a koala and its joey….
Hell by the time anyone truly saw that, she’d be a puff of smoke in the endless abyss of time.
The moon lit the room, and she could feel him watching. Judging. His eyes were narrow slits as he browbeat her into looking back up. There he was. It was like she could see his face.
She could also see her own reflection. Scattered blotches of various colors that sweat smeared on her face, left on from her last war in the ring.
Battle scars.
She slapped the window again and she swore it would break.
Her head filled with laughter from the man, he was taunting her now.
She looked away. The ear-splitting cackles too much to handle. She slithered back into the dark room, her only solace from her tormentor a quarter million miles away.
“It isn’t real, it isn’t real, it isn’t real” the mantra she chanted over and over as she pulled the skin below her eyes. “He isn’t real, he isn't real, he isn't real.”
Another voice broke the chaos.
SYNN.
“He isn’t real.”
She stopped dead in her tracks. She knew the voice had some from her lips but she didn’t say the words…….
“Khloe Cox isn’t real. Like the man on the moon, she’s an optical illusion. Once you stop believing, she goes away. Poof.”
Her voice was light and airy, but the next sentence came out as a growl.
“Khloe Cox is like the moon man. She only exists because I allow her to.”
Her eyes shot wider than the moon's illumination.
“She isn’t real.” She said, and it was her voice again.
“Khloe Cox isn’t real.”
Somewhere, an owl hummed its tune.
PETER VAUGHN AND J MONT CAN BOAST ALL THEY WANT. BUT SYNN IS THE APEX PREDATOR.
AND TONIGHT'S MEAL.
KHLOE COX.
"Win after win after win. All I see when I turn on Thunder Pro is win after win after win for Khloe Cox. For someone who so desperately wants to make a name for herself, you can't help but feel bad for her. She craves that attention, just look at her gimmick!
Christ Khloe, you've been here since June. You wanna know what I did in my first six months?
I revolutionized a well established company and won the World Title over one of the best in the game. They shut their doors with my name etched in stone as their champion. Your first half year? You're a feeder fish they drop in the tank when their predators get too hungry. You've won because you've mastered mid-card mediocrity......now comes you're true test.
You’ve garnered the attention of the demon. This isn’t the shy girl behind the face paint, oh no no no, this is the epitome of every nightmare you’ve ever had. This is the culmination of every time you wet the bed or Poop your pants. This is the unstoppable force, Khloe, but you’re far from the immovable object.
I see the fear in you, smell it, taste it. Your biggest fear is never being as successful as you dream of. Your biggest fear is being a loser. Your biggest fear is never holding a title above your head in front of a capacity crowd. Your biggest fear is never. being. good. enough.
You've wanted this since you've been a little girl. How does it feel to fail?
You bottle up your fears everyday, and that is mighty brave of you, but when you step into the ring with me you’ll be forced to face them. I’ll show you exactly who you are in HD quality. 4k. I’ll show you that this unhinged image is a mirage, and the crazy you see in the mirror every day is nothing but an illusion. The woman I see is the real Khloe Cox, the loveable loser, the little engine that couldn’t."
So when you’re in the back putting a Scooby-Doo Band-Aid on that pride of yours, just remember………
