Post by synn on Jan 17, 2024 3:51:51 GMT -5
What happens in the dark feels the way the blackout never does
Turning the gears, sharpen the blades of sheer terror, these fevered ones
But tell me the secret things, but show me the bloody kings
Let's play a game where the winners always lose their heads
The mirror had a giant crack in it, and shattered pieces lay strewn across the sink with streaks of blood and ripped skin. Juniper sat on the closed toilet, her head in her bloody hands. She had acted out of character, and now the searing pain shooting up her arm was her souvenir.
This stretch had been the worst of her career.
The shy girl from Alaska who sat in her room watching wrestling, dreaming of one day competing in that squared circle, had finally become a reality. All of the times she had performed various finishing moves on her pillows or stuffed animals, slapping the bed as the pretend ref counted the pin fall, had finally stopped being a childhood dream and came screaming into her life. She had gone for tryouts, but never thought she could actually make a roster. Heck, just being included was enough for her.
Never in her wildest dreams would she have ever imagined she would be a World Champion, not to mention six months after her first match. She wasn’t ready, and she knew it.
But she isn’t in control anymore.
There was something inside her that had pushed her to do things she had never would have otherwise done. Take chances, poke bears, feel pain. Part of her wanted to run from it all, but she knew her legs weren’t hers to use anymore.
She reached a shaky hand out, and opened the cabinet below the sink. She found a first aid kit, and wrapped gaws around her hand tightly, taping it.
HOW COULD SHE COMPETE THIS WEEK WITH A HAND LIKE THIS?!
She had to call Alexander, she had to seek medical help. She was bleeding out for god sakes!
“Oh stop it”, a voice pierced the dark silence. Her voice.
“Pain is weakness leaving the body.”
“LEAVE ME ALONE!”
“You are such a weakling. Such a push-over.”
“I want to go home!”
“You’re going to Memphis.”
She stood up, her legs wobbled. She made her way to the main room and began shoving all of her belongings into a bookbag. Her hand was bleeding profusely, even through the gaws.
“Doesn’t it feel good?”
“NO!”
“Bleeding is such a primal thing, such a human thing. It’s exhilarating! It makes us feel so whole!”
“STOP! STOP IT!”
She was shouting. She put a bloody hand to her head, running it through her dark hair. She sat on the bed, sobbing.
“I can’t do it anymore. I just can’t.”
“You don’t have to.”
She stood up, grabbing her book bag but an invisible force shoved her back down.
“This is happening one way or another. So you can come along for the ride or you can stay here and die like a pitiful little girl. Nobody will miss you.”
“My family will miss me."
“Your family wrote you off the moment you got on that plane. I am your family now.”
Juniper felt a hand on her throat, cutting off her oxygen.
It was her own hand. Her own bloody hand.
“I am tired of being nice for the sake of your reputation. You’re useless. A hapless, directionless little twat. I am going into Memphis and I am making a statement. Without me, you’re nothing. Hate me all you want, but I am the best thing that has ever happened to you.”
Her own hand came off her throat and she gasped for air. Her eyes shot to the face paint kid on the nightstand, the only thing she hadn’t hurriedly tossed into her bag.
“No!”
She got up and took a step towards the nightstand.
Time screams by, life is mine
Time screams by, life is, yeah
Your condition is a symptom, we'll have to give you medicine for the dead
Drink me
Your condition is a symptom, we'll have to give you medicine for the dead
Drink me
Disappointment is a traitorous feeling.
When you put your heart and soul into a cause, and you come up just short, it hurts. When you put your body through a War that would make the Pacific Theatre look like recreational paintball, just to come up short in the end is disappointing.
Beating that pompous blow-hard Matt Knox at the PWA Christmas show would have been nice, sure, but it is not her prime focus right now. When she wants that title, she'll kick the door down and take it, believe that, but right now..... Making another muscled up douche with a God Complex named Zolton realize just how vulnerable, how defeatable, how human he truly is, was her goal. She used to face the best, now she's reduced to this. If anything, this was a fresh start. Square one. Like she was a rookie all over again. She had the chance now, once again, to take the wrestling world by storm, scoring the biggest upset as the biggest underdog since FACING THE GIANTS became the biggest overhyped low budget monotonous sports movie. REMEMBER THE TITANS. THE MIGHTY DUCKS. HOOSIERS. HERE COMES THE BOOM. THE LONGEST YARD.
You get the gist.
She didn’t get a chance to make her B-movie in terms of overcoming overwhelming odds and slaying the antagonist, but what she did accomplish was showing the entire world that she could.
Sometimes a loss tells a better story than a win.
SYNN came out of this with all the notoriety, all the headlines, all the media hype and most of all……..all the fear. Every member of the wrestling world was put on notice by what she did in the ring, what she took, what she survived and kept asking for more like Oliver Twist. What she did to Knox, what she would have done had the match not had 'rules'. Had she not hand delivered him his moment so that he could live with the torment rent free in his mind for the rest of his days……..
She could have killed him.
But Knox hasn't learned, has he? He is still going to walk around with his chest puffed out, telling the world how much of a joke she was and how easy it was. Because she didn't kill him, she failed.
Disappointing.
It’s a traitorous feeling because as much as much good as you do, you can’t help but feel badly. You want more, you want so badly to right your wrongs, to clean up your mistakes, to get another chance………
…………………..next time, she will kill him.
She wasn’t even supposed to compete this week. Her body is warped and fractured, her leg is basically a chicken wing, and her ribs may be twisted like a corkscrew. Alexander Marshall knew this, and still gave her the 'most dangerous man on the roster', you know, for ratings sake. Throw in a mid card 'lost girl' who did a complete personality 180 because she was sick of sucking but yet somehow got worse? Triple threat.
Big mistake.
Best thing she could have done was give SYNN the week off. Let her lick her wounds, let her wallow in disappointment, let her………
NO.
Juniper wants to quit. The little girl in the flesh threw in the white flag in weeks ago. Her battered and bruised body screamed NO MAS from a hoarse throat.
Juniper is disappointed, which makes her weak.
SYNN is disappointed, which makes her dangerous.
SYNN faces two new victims this week, and SYNN has a job to do.
“It has been quite a ride for me lately, hasn’t it? I bet you two are over there licking your chops, smelling blood in the water and feeling like you’ve won this match before it even starts. All this hype, and not a victory here to show for it. I get that. Typical toxic energy from a man who's always relied on size and aggression and has never had to earn anything before and a woman whose stuck in gimmick purgatory, never knowing who she truly is or what she wants to be. No confidence, always needing that pat on the back and the 'Atta girl!' from those better than you. Shallow validation. A man with virtually no technical skills, who is nothing but a suit wearing brute with a small man complex who loves to tell us how he's Michael Phelps but can't seem to swim past the middle of the pool.
Water wings, Z man. Swallow your pride and ask for help, you clearly can't do it alone.
Hey, Khloe did it, and look at all the new friends she's made!
*pauses to gag*
I look at you and I don’t see a professional wrestlers. When I look at you Zolton, I think of two things: Incest and School shootings. Inbred rage with a hardon for violence, but this night isn’t your night. Fox News can't report on this! You talk down to everyone around you and spew your nonsense like it's prophecy, but your words are empty, hollow shells. You've proven you're all bark and no bite the minute you opened your mouth. You've made a career beating up on nobodies, a legacy of never being as good as your delusional preaching's will lead the ignorant minds to believe. Matt Knox, Maxwell Stone, Andrea Hernandez....where is Zolton? Peter Vaughn, Larry Tact, J Mont, Junko Souma. The burning question in all of our minds......where...is....Zolton?
As the talent swells around you, you must begin to ponder why it is you're on the bench during crunch time? Why you're facing the walk-ons while the starters kick back with their feet up, their job of being better than you done for the night. All this talk, and you've never been in a title MATCH here.
Is THIS what I've been reduced to?
Alexander Marshall promised me competition, and yet here you are. More broken promises than a politician with an equally abysmal success rate.
You're judged in this business by the gold you hold, point blank, period. There are no participation trophies, no feel good stories. 60 Minutes won't waste their time with the likes of you. Growing up I used to idolize the champions that paved the way for the sports success, and I vowed to one day follow their path. I did it in six months, beating one of the the best to do it this decade. I had never wrestled before and I took OCW into the sunset as their champion. You've been here since May and if it weren't for your insufferable ramblings, nobody would even remember. You muscle up in front of the camera with this 'Zolton' you've created, but your 'man of chaos' is nothing more than Heinreich Alexander Hessler in a designer suit.
You've been wrestling for years, I'm barely a full pregnancy in, and I'm already a household name.
What's you're excuse?
Then we have Khloe Cox. The girl with the similar background, who grew up watching her idols on television. Wanting to be just like them, yeah? The happy-go-lucky hero turned dark and brooding after a lenghty mental breakdown. We've seen this movie before, and it wasn't good the first time. You're stolen book of cliche's is running out, and I am putting your ass to the flame to figure out who it is you truly are. The days of Khloe coddling are over.
I love this business, despite their best attempts to bring me down. I love the hardship, something you're too busy running away from. All of the pain, its motivation for me. Mental, physical, emotional, give me it all. I welcome the smoke. There is not a single sing you can do to me that I don’t welcome with open arms.
Do your worst.
I don't play well with others. I don't mold to other people's core values and beliefs. The haters, and they are plentiful, may have been trying to slow me down, but all they did was awaken the monster. All they did was ignite a flame deep inside me that admittedly was starting to simmer. All they did was screw over Juniper Leavitt, but they have awoken SYNN….
And that’s a sin that is unforgivable.
I am not sure you understand exactly who I am. You are sleeping on me because you got that W, just like you do with everyone else. In your eyes, you’re untouchable. You have aligned yourself with the 'cool' kids, you can get away with whatever you want with no consequences.
I am your consequence.
You saw what happened when your actions couldn’t back up your words. Now, you’re going to see what happens when karma decides it's your time.
The demon has her eyes locked on you Khloe, and best believe those eyes are seeing red. You know what else is red, mmmm?
You guessed it.
The blood will be pouring in Memphis, and I crave the taste.
Water wings, Z man. Swallow your pride and ask for help, you clearly can't do it alone.
Hey, Khloe did it, and look at all the new friends she's made!
*pauses to gag*
I look at you and I don’t see a professional wrestlers. When I look at you Zolton, I think of two things: Incest and School shootings. Inbred rage with a hardon for violence, but this night isn’t your night. Fox News can't report on this! You talk down to everyone around you and spew your nonsense like it's prophecy, but your words are empty, hollow shells. You've proven you're all bark and no bite the minute you opened your mouth. You've made a career beating up on nobodies, a legacy of never being as good as your delusional preaching's will lead the ignorant minds to believe. Matt Knox, Maxwell Stone, Andrea Hernandez....where is Zolton? Peter Vaughn, Larry Tact, J Mont, Junko Souma. The burning question in all of our minds......where...is....Zolton?
As the talent swells around you, you must begin to ponder why it is you're on the bench during crunch time? Why you're facing the walk-ons while the starters kick back with their feet up, their job of being better than you done for the night. All this talk, and you've never been in a title MATCH here.
Is THIS what I've been reduced to?
Alexander Marshall promised me competition, and yet here you are. More broken promises than a politician with an equally abysmal success rate.
You're judged in this business by the gold you hold, point blank, period. There are no participation trophies, no feel good stories. 60 Minutes won't waste their time with the likes of you. Growing up I used to idolize the champions that paved the way for the sports success, and I vowed to one day follow their path. I did it in six months, beating one of the the best to do it this decade. I had never wrestled before and I took OCW into the sunset as their champion. You've been here since May and if it weren't for your insufferable ramblings, nobody would even remember. You muscle up in front of the camera with this 'Zolton' you've created, but your 'man of chaos' is nothing more than Heinreich Alexander Hessler in a designer suit.
You've been wrestling for years, I'm barely a full pregnancy in, and I'm already a household name.
What's you're excuse?
Then we have Khloe Cox. The girl with the similar background, who grew up watching her idols on television. Wanting to be just like them, yeah? The happy-go-lucky hero turned dark and brooding after a lenghty mental breakdown. We've seen this movie before, and it wasn't good the first time. You're stolen book of cliche's is running out, and I am putting your ass to the flame to figure out who it is you truly are. The days of Khloe coddling are over.
I love this business, despite their best attempts to bring me down. I love the hardship, something you're too busy running away from. All of the pain, its motivation for me. Mental, physical, emotional, give me it all. I welcome the smoke. There is not a single sing you can do to me that I don’t welcome with open arms.
Do your worst.
I don't play well with others. I don't mold to other people's core values and beliefs. The haters, and they are plentiful, may have been trying to slow me down, but all they did was awaken the monster. All they did was ignite a flame deep inside me that admittedly was starting to simmer. All they did was screw over Juniper Leavitt, but they have awoken SYNN….
And that’s a sin that is unforgivable.
I am not sure you understand exactly who I am. You are sleeping on me because you got that W, just like you do with everyone else. In your eyes, you’re untouchable. You have aligned yourself with the 'cool' kids, you can get away with whatever you want with no consequences.
I am your consequence.
You saw what happened when your actions couldn’t back up your words. Now, you’re going to see what happens when karma decides it's your time.
The demon has her eyes locked on you Khloe, and best believe those eyes are seeing red. You know what else is red, mmmm?
You guessed it.
The blood will be pouring in Memphis, and I crave the taste.
(༙྇I༙྇ ༙྇B༙྇L༙྇E༙྇E༙྇D༙྇ ༙྇J༙྇U༙྇S༙྇T༙྇ ༙྇T༙྇O༙྇ ༙྇K༙྇N༙྇O༙྇W༙྇ ༙྇I༙྇’༙྇M༙྇ ༙྇A༙྇L༙྇I༙྇V༙྇E༙྇)༙྇
Both of yours. I want to see through bloody eyes how you react when I keep getting up no matter how many times, or how violently, you put me down. I want to see the soul drain from your pathetic bodies when the realization hits you like a freight train……….
Don’t Hunt What You Can’t Kill."
Yōᴜ ພ𐌉ᥨᥨ 𝑭ₑā𝗿 Мₑ
Don’t Hunt What You Can’t Kill."
Yōᴜ ພ𐌉ᥨᥨ 𝑭ₑā𝗿 Мₑ
