Author Topic: ALEXANDRA CALAWAY v LUNA VANITY - FANS PICKS STIP  (Read 3166 times)

Offline Christian Underwood

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ALEXANDRA CALAWAY v LUNA VANITY - FANS PICKS STIP
« on: April 24, 2023, 02:13:08 PM »
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“To err is human - but it feels divine.”
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Offline Alexandra Calaway

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Re: ALEXANDRA CALAWAY v LUNA VANITY - FANS PICKS STIP
« Reply #1 on: April 28, 2023, 12:03:13 AM »
Flashback
We’ll be camping where? ||OFF CAMERA|| Dallas, Texas, America


Still sore from her fight and loss at New Frontier Wrestling’s Trauma, if her black eye was any indication of what she went through, it was clear that even in this she wasn’t at one hundred percent, nor would she be. But she was going to give it one hundred percent, no matter how much her body hurt. There’s no reason not to, she needed this win, despite everything that had just happened to her. Alexandra had heard news of where the entire company would be camping on their tour stop in Romania.  She knew of this Hoia-Baciu Forest, she knew of the legends, but in order to reacquaint herself with it, she took the time to look it up, finding some information on the web, you can find EVERYTHING there these days.

The Hoia-Baciu Forest is located in Cluj County, Transylvania, which is in the north-western part of Romania. The forest covers over 250 hectares and is known as Romania’s Bermuda Triangle and as the “World’s Most Haunted Forest” because of all the freaky and unexplainable events that have happened in the forest. Aside from strange events, this forest has very odd vegetation. The trees look straight from a sci-fi movie or some kind of dystopian parallel universe.

The trees do not grow straight up, but bend and spiral, almost as if they were twisting their limbs to reach out and touch you. Even weirder is that all the trees turn in a clockwise direction. Scientists have been out to the forest to examine the tree growth patterns, but have been unable to figure out why the trees grow in such an erratic fashion.

Besides the spiraling trees, the other weird thing about the vegetation of the forest is what is known as the “dead zone.” One section of the forest, almost a perfect circle, is an area where no vegetation can grow. The soil has been sampled, and it is unknown why nothing grows in this area. Moreover, this dead zone is where quite a bit of paranormal activity has been spotted.

When you step into the dead zone, you are surrounded by forest, and you feel eerily removed from the rest of Transylvania.

One of the legends surrounding the forest is that a young girl entered the forest and was lost for many years. Then, supposedly, she reemerged from the forest five years later, appearing unaged and unable to remember where she had been.

Another story that the locals tell is of a shepherd and his flock of 200 sheep. He entered the forest with his flock, never to be seen again – his sheep and their remains were never found either.

There are also stories of alien sightings in the Hoia-Baciu forest. Actually, the forest first became famous in 1968 when military technician Emil Barnea was out in the forest with his girlfriend and a few friends.

It was a sunny August afternoon, and his girlfriend told him that she saw something weird. He walked over to where she was standing, and he saw it too: a shining silver disk in the sky. Luckily, he had his camera with him, and before the object bolted away, he was able to capture four photos.

The four of them only saw the UFO for about two minutes, but Barnea then developed his film and his pictures live on.

Barnea’s photos were published in local papers, and many people were very skeptical. Some said it was probably a couple weather balloons shot in odd circumstances or odd lighting.
Investigators looked into weather balloons, blimps, or anything else that might have been in the sky in that area on that day, but nothing could be found to explain the photos. The photo negatives were also examined to see if Barnea had altered the images, but no evidence of tampering could be found.

Still other strange events have occurred in this forest. Many people who walk in just for a quick scare walk out with unexplainable symptoms. People claim that as soon as they walk in, they suffer from severe anxiety and feel like there is somebody watching them. Others walk out with scratches or bruises, having no idea where they came from.

Some people believe that the forest is haunted by peasants who were murdered there a long time ago. The forest holds a lot of history, as there is evidence of a settlement there, dating all the way back to the Neolithic period. Evidence suggests that people originally settled there in 6500 BC, making it the oldest settlement in all of Romania. Who knows how many people have lived and died in the area that is now the Hoia-Baciu Forest!

Ghosts and other sightings of paranormal activity have been spotted here too. Sometimes people hear voices in the forest, giggles of women or screams of young girls.

People have also heard the sounds of deer or horse hooves, even when there were none to be seen. Some see orbs floating near the trees, or they will take photos and when they look at the photos, faces or orbs that were not seen in person are seen in the photos.

Occasionally, people see faces right in front of them, with their naked eye. Sometimes people see glowing green eyes, staring at them from a distance. If you visit the forest, you will have to let us know what you see out there!

Now you have learned all about the unpleasantness of this forest, but it is actually quite a beautiful place to visit. Again, those winding trees are plentiful in the forest, and this is the only place in the world where you can see such trees. Cluj-Napoca is the big city that is right next to the forest, so the forest offers refuge from the hustle and bustle of the city.

Also, because the forest is near a big city, it is easy to find accommodation. It is just a 20-minute drive from the center of Cluj-Napoca, so it is also easy to get a taxi ride there. There are also guided tours that you can go on to visit the forest and hear tales from the locals.

The forest also has plenty of bike and hiking paths, making it easy to explore on your own. Just avoid the nighttime in the forest if you don’t want a fright!


Upon reading this information, Alexandra turned to the antique chest sitting on her desk, reaching into it she took out a black velvet pouch and removed the contents, spreading out a velvet cloth onto the desk, she then looked at what had been rolled up in that velvet cloth, BONES..  Rolling them back up she started packing. The pain in her head was strong, her black eye obvious to anyone who could see it. Outside she heard the rumble of motorcycles outside and it caused her to smile. Placing the bones back into the piece of velvet, she wrapped it back up before dropping it into her bag with her clothes. She covered it up and then walked out into the living room. They had arrived to escort her to the airport so she could head out to Romania. Thanks Kayfabe airlines, it wouldn’t take long, she’d be there soon and she’d miss home.

Setting up Camp || OFF CAMERA || Hoia-Baciu Forest, Transylvania, Romania

After arriving at the campsite in the haunted woods in Romania, Alexandra found herself a place a bit further off from everyone else, where she could hide herself amongst the trees and foliage.  If she was going to be forced to camp here like everyone else, she was going to at least have some peace of mind and solitude. After all, just about everyone in SCW was gunning for her after her first statements during the Blast from The Past tourney. She would rather risk her safety within the haunted woods, than stay close to the rest of the campers. Her poor showing against Bea and her first loss in Sin City Wrestling, still fresh on her mind. She knew that if she was going to make her statement within the history of this company, she would have to start soon, otherwise, she was wasting her time as well as the companies. Her phone rang and she pulled it out. A bright smile crosses her face at the name and she clicks the answer button.

“Hey handsome.. Yeah I just got to the campsite. Yes I met your contact while I was here, got the supplies I needed. Thank you for having my back. Yeah Yeah, I know. Look, I didn’t expect this much help, but I appreciate it. As soon as the show’s over I’m heading back stateside. I’ll be home before the next show. I just wanted to say .. well you know.”

She paused listening to whoever was on the other end of the line, clearly it was someone she had a history with. This wasn’t revealed, but it was clear there was something more than just friendship there, a lover perhaps.

“Yeah, not really, I’m still needing to set up camp, but that will be easy enough, maybe hunt for some food here in a bit, make sure that I can get a decent meal. Yeah, can you believe that? They have us camping for this show.  Like fuck most of us are going to have so much stiffness, what were they thinking? Nah I don’t think they are too cheap, Sin City’s pretty well off to be honest. I’ll check in again tomorrow when they come to pick us up to go to the show. I miss you too. But we will be together again soon. Make sure that Ash behaves for Tamika, I’ll call them soon. See you soon Darlin’.”

She focused on the sounds around her as she set up her tent hearing some of the other’s in the distance, not far, but far enough that she’d still have some privacy. There was the crack of a limb further off and she looked up, something darted along the trees further in, but she shrugged it off and went back to work on her tent. Focusing on the work to be done, she got her tent and campsite set up, collecting logs and stuff to make a fire. Having spent a lot of time camping out on runs and stuff as a kid and as an adult, the miles she had logged on her Harley Davidson, had prepared her for stuff like this.  Climbing into her tent, she pulled out a large soft leather journal and took out a pen. She had so many thoughts she needed to get out and now was the perfect time to do so.  After getting those thoughts out, she could go hunting and make something to eat. She hunkers down onto a stump next to her tent and starts writing.

From Raven losing the match during the Blast from the Past tournament, to my loss to Bea Carter, I’m starting to see that it’s time I stop holding back.  And the one reason I wanted to destroy Luna, was because she had a crown, and I wanted it. But she couldn’t get past Jessie Salco. So Luna will still be in my sights, but for now, I have to face being away from my family, after everything that's happened to us. While I’m new here, it’s not the first time I’ve ever faced a person like Luna.  And just like all the other’s I’ve faced before, she will fall at my feet. She will remember my name.

This is my time, this match is a chance to show everyone that I am exactly who I say I am. That last week, what happened with Bea was a fluke. I lost my focus and it won't happen again. As for my debut match in Sin City Wrestling, that loss wasn’t on me. That loss was on Alexander Raven. A man who had every chance in the world, every shot and he failed. He came up just short of a realistic and easily obtainable goal. He just couldn’t do what needed to be done. He needed to tap into a side of himself that he clearly isn’t ready to deal with, or he is incapable of dealing with. Raven is a moron, he thinks that his ladies issues with me are real. Come on.. From what I can see, he failed her little kingdom, then Jessie Salco took what mattered.

After this week, I’ll go on to face Luna at the next big event for Sin City Wrestling, Into the Void, live from London, England. There couldn’t be a more appropriate title, because once I am done with her, the VOID is exactly where she will go. Back into obscurity with those Alexandra had left in her past before.  Back to a place where someone like Luna belonged, in a world where she was just known as Alexander Raven’s old lady, a broken Queen. Has anyone seen the massive amounts of Queens in the wrestling industry? But they were mostly little girls playing pretend. A false kingdom, of which they had not earned, not yet, and possibly, not ever. None of them compare to the things I’ve done in my career.  Just as Luna is not on my level. She has potential, but she also needs to learn humility, if she even hopes to get to the level I’m at. I’ve had a couple of matches and already Champions are taking notice of me in Sin City Wrestling. It’s time I show them just what I am capable of.

Can you believe this.. A haunted forest. That’s where we are staying. Could Sin City Wrestling not afford to get us lodging at Dracula’s Castle? Come on, that would have been a fun night.  Could you imagine sleeping in that castle for a few nights?  That would have been an adventure.  Maybe I could sneak in some time to hike up to the castle while everyone’s asleep. Snatch some pictures while I’m there to send home to my daughter.  Good thing I was smart and brought a portable charger for this show.  I should probably go find something to eat and get some rest. If this place is as haunted as they claim, I doubt any of us are going to get much sleep.


Slipping her journal back into her bag, she took out her pocket knife and the weapons she bought for the camping trip upon arriving, knowing there had to be some game she could cook, lurking in these woods. If sleeping in a haunted wood wasn’t creepy, then cooking a pig shouldn’t be any worse. It’s not like she didn’t grow up going hunting and fishing, and the nearest body of water she could remember was quite a ways from where they all decided the campsite would be. So fishing would be out of the question. Once food had been had, Alexandra returned to her campsite, sitting next to the fire and paying attention to the sun as it said. Once the campers had gone to bed, Alexandra had an idea of her own, something she needed to do.

Sometime around three in the morning || OFF CAMERA || Hoia-Baciu Forest, Transylvania, Romania

Grabbing the bag she had kept in her tent and slinging her backpack onto her back, she made her way deeper into the haunted woods. These woods served a purpose to both the living and the dead. For the living, there were all manner of usable items, food, shelter, beauty.  For the dead and creatures of unknown nature, it provided a safe haven to hunt and feed, those beings had the power here. And it was this power that Alexandra was willing to turn to for exactly what she needed. Once she found her way to the place she had set up earlier, she finished the work she had started. She placed out the five standing torches she had fashioned, lighting each one in a counter clockwise fashion.

“With each step I take clockwork round this circle, is a step to call forth those who reside within the woods, and those who walk on the other side. I come to you for guidance and to ask of you all the power to defeat those who would oppose me.”

She walks counterclockwise pouring a red viscous liquid from a container in her hands. The red liquid falls into a perfect circle, mingling with the fire sticks and seeping deeply into the earth at her feet. Once the circle was completed she moved to the middle where she had prepared a place to start a fire. She knelt down in front of it and pulled out all the things she would need to start it. Once the fire crackled to live she smiled and reached into the tin at her side, pulling out a pig's heart.

“To you, those who walk amongst the shadows within these sacred woods and to those who walk between the worlds of the living and the dead. To those now and those who came before and to all the Gods, I offer this heart of a pig as a symbolization of one Luna Vanity. This false pretender sees herself as the ruler of all dark things. Allow me to set her straight in your honor. Allow me to show her that she does not rule you, just as she does not rule me or those who serve the darkness willingly. I ask of you to give me the power to defeat her and strike her down as you would if you still physically walked amongst us.”

Alexandra tossed the heart into the first. She watched as the pig's heart caught on fire, smiling before speaking again. A cold wind rushed past her ear and just in the tree line she heard a twig snap. They had come, they had answered her call.

“Come forth, join me within this hallowed place, this circle is yours to speak within. I come to you for advice, for you are my council. Come forth and share your wisdom, your guidance. For you see all that has been and all that will be, you walk with the other side and I walk amongst the living.”

Another twig snaps, this one within the circle, another and another until Alexandra felt as if she was surrounded by those who lived within this sacred place. The hallowed and haunted woods of Hoia-Baciu. The World's most haunted woods.

“You come respectfully, seeking guidance and power, you show great respect and honor and for that I shall grant you, your request of power and strength. May the strength of those who came before me aid you in this battle.”

The disembodied voice spoke to her as if directly across the fire from her. She stared at the direction the voice came from, her face lit by the fire. Another voice this time echoed from both sides of her, as if twin voices spoke in her ears, she focused on the fire, listening to them.

“You show strength beyond measure to travel so deeply into a place you do not know, to ask for such things. For this, I shall grant you the knowledge to teach the false leader. Show her the errors of her ignorance. You shall be our warrior, the one who walks between the worlds. The one who can commune with both us and them, the living. You shall be our proxy. Bring the false pretender to her knees and destroy her as he would have.”

The wind blew once again and she shivered as a third voice sounded from behind her. This one much deeper, commanding and venomous.

“She believes herself to be above us, above you even. Show her that she is incorrect. Take out your bones, speak to them, ask what else it is that you seek.”

Alexandra reaches into velvet back, laying out the velvet cloth, picking up the bones, she throws them upwards and as they fall back down, she asks her questions.

“Do I have your guidance, ancient ones to take down the false Queen, strip her of the crown she believes she wears upon her brow?”

The bones fall into the yes position and Alexandra smiles. Placing the bones away the third voice speaks once more.

“Our warrior came to us with a question and it has been answered, let us now do what must be done to strengthen the bond and seal our promise.”

Sparks flew up from the fire. Alexandra felt as if hands landed gently upon her shoulders, head, and back. Her eyes closed and she slipped into an unconscious state, her body slumping over to lay in the fetal position as the wind howled around the area, but the flames stood strong. Once the early morning rays touched her skin, she started to awaken the fire was out and the blood had seeped into the ground.  Sitting up she took her items and returned to camp.

Present Day
From London, With love || OFF CAMERA || London, England


After having only been home a few days after what had happened in Romania, Alexandra was once again on a plane, this time bound for London England. A place she had wrestled in plenty of times before, but this was one more lucky time she’d get to be in the land of Jack the Ripper, one of the most prolific serial killers of all time.  Having been in town a few days now, she spent this time walking down the alleyway next to the White Hart pub located at 89 Whitechapel High St, London E1 7RA, United Kingdom. The narrow alley bringing chills down anyone’s spine, felt welcoming to Alexandra. She made her way into the pub and got a seat in a corner. She ordered herself a pint of ale and some food,watching people within, come and go for several hours, just enjoying her time in the United Kingdom. Alexandra pulled out the same journal she had in Romania with her and started writing.

Romania was beautiful, hauntingly enchanting honestly. But being here in London, at the White Hart Pub, well, that’s something that’s hard to explain. It’s eerie but also inviting, much like being in Hoia-Baciu, but here there are at least more people here, none of those I work with. At least not right now, I’m sure eventually they’ll find their way here, considering the hire ups themed this time here in England around Jack the Ripper. So I came over early to get my own time with this place. England has always been good to me, but this time, it’s different. This time I am here to do a job, to destroy the false pretender.

Miss Luna Vanity, the old lady of Alexander Raven, a man of whom I put my trust into and he betrayed it. He lost that match for us, because he couldn’t commit. He couldn’t do what needed to be done. He held back, used control, but it wasn’t what was needed. He could have let go, he could have simply given into the darkness that resides in us all, and fought HARDER. But no, he couldn’t do it. He was weak. He was a weak partner, listening to a woman who is so naive as to believe that his loss is MY fault. The false Queen, the one who believes she knows me, that she knows the darkness within.

She wants to believe that I am lost, but it seems to me that she is the lost one. A young maiden, lost in a sea of monsters who would seek to destroy her, but none of those monsters are gunning for her.  But what she does have coming for her, is a Hellion, a woman with a violent streak that would match Jack the Ripper himself. Jack was smart, cunning and beyond compare. To this day, he’s still a mystery.  Those who were accused were quickly seen as “Non-suspects” due to Jack’s cunning and genius. The perfect crime.

Luna would see that not only am I cold and cunning, one with the shadows and darkness of this world. But I am also dangerous. I am violent and I will stop at nothing to show her, no matter what the fans may choose for the stipulation, she can be assured that her time has come. She can’t be in one piece, not so quickly after losing to Jessie. I’m sure she is wounded mentally, scarred from the loss of her championship. A championship, she might have earned, but was not prepared for. She could not handle the weight that comes with being a champion, something I knew so much about, having won my first championship at Nineteen years of age.

For now, I rest calmly in the knowledge that I can and will show her the error of her ways. That her petulance and accusations towards me for her beloved’s loss, is in vain. She did it to get under my skin, however, she will not. All she has done is awaken a part of me that I had hoped to keep locked deep inside. She will see a darker side of me than she ever knew existed. She saw me as lost, so let’s begin this.


Alexandra closed the journal and placed it back inside her bag. Paying her tab at the Pub, she made her way out into the streets.  The sun had gone down and the darkness had turned the street lamps on. Alexandra ame her way out into the street, turning down the alleyway that was made famous by Jack The Ripper, himself.

Step out of the way or get cut down || ON CAMERA || London, England

Alexandra took out the camera she brought with her, taking a breath and wandered further into the alleyway, where one of Jack the Ripper’s killing spree happened. She closed her eyes for a moment, listening to the sounds of London around her. Opening her eyes, she started to speak.

“Luna, before I go further, I must ask, are you willing to do what must be done? Are you willing to shed the preconceived notion of who you think you are? You see, there is a set of tenants I live by, my rules for existing.  Unlike most in this world. I am not a God fearing woman. And some would say, I walk with the devil. And they would be telling the truth. I wasn’t always this woman, once upon a time I was the pretty girl, the girl who thought she was on the top of the world. Then, I was pushed over that edge, into the darkness. I almost lost my daughter, her father tried to have her killed, before she was born. I bounced back from that.  But then DOVE back into that darkness.  Back into the world of those who are looked upon as the outcasts reside. Then not even six months ago, she was kidnapped, I had to spend four holidays without my child with me. Then, I took matters into my own hands and found her. And those who took her, suffered a fate that befell their crimes against me. My little girl is only eleven, the fear in her eyes, it brought all this back.”

She leaned against a wall, looking down for a moment. She locked her fingers together, before bringing her gaze back up to the camera. Another moment to catch her breath, collecting her thoughts. She began to speak again.

“And now I’m here, prepared to fight you. You know, you had a lot to say about me Luna, a lot that you believe you know. But I am here to remind you that you know nothing about who I am, what I have done, or what I will do. You presume to think that you are above me. That I am lost and you must, what was it? Show me the way. My way was set long ago. Long before I came to Sin City Wrestling. You claim that I am lost, that you need to guide me. I do not need your so-called guidance. I am not a follower, but a leader. For wolves do not look to the sheep to guide them.  You are not a shepard for the darkness. You hold no sway over my life nor will you ever. You will however know my wrath and remember my name when the match is through.”

Another beat and her eyes drop down to the ground beneath her feet again. She started to giggle a bit. Not like one normally would. But this was colder.  She had done what needed to be done and no one would ever be any wiser.

“Out there in Hoia-Baciu, cut off from my family, my friends, everyone I love.  It gave me time to think, to focus on what it really takes to be a champion, and what it’s really going to take to make my mark on Sin City Wrestling. My last two matches didn't go as planned, but after visiting here, there’s so much I had the time to think about. So much that I have devised a game plan.  It starts with you Luna. After that, the skies will be the limit and I will not stop until I get Gold here in Sin City Wrestling.  This alley I stand in currently, is the site of Jack The Ripper's most famous killings, that still stands to this day.  The man was, beyond cunning.  His crimes to this day still cannot be placed on one person. They have accused a great many. Men, Women, Doctors and Royals, yet Jack’s true identity has never been found and they probably never will. At Into The Void, I will be your ripper and you, my dear sweet Luna, will be my victim.”

She thought back to her first week here, what one of the guys backstage told her about what the ladies around here think about newcomers. It was a shock that people actually acted the way she had been told. Appalling even, it was time she spoke her peace on that, she WOULD be heard.

“It was told to me that people here are too keen on new people coming in and taking their gold, their shot at glory. I’ve been to several companies around the world. I’ve been in your shoes and I never treated my future competitors as such. But I guess that’s the difference between you all and myself. Most of us are veterans of this industry, I’ve heard many of your names in passing before. Act better all you want, but watch as I climb the ranks quickly and take my spot here. And it starts with YOU Luna.”

One last pause, Alexandra collected her thoughts, everything that happened in her short time here in Sin City wrestling, everything that had been done that night in the most haunted forest in Romania. But there was still more to do. The ride wasn’t finished yet, it was just getting started.

“So Luna, this brings me back to everything you said about me. You are my stepping stone to winning. Beat a former champion, show everyone that they aren’t at the top of the food chain anymore and the title shots will line up. As each one comes, I’ll knock it down, just like pins in a bowling alley. Welcome to MY Kingdom. You came in at the top, me at the bottom, but when I leave the arena, it will be as a winner.  See you soon.”

Her eyes focused on the camera lens, a fire burning within them to finish her off without any concern for what that might cause between her and Alexander Raven, of whom she had promised she wouldn’t hurt.  But that promise was to not harm him.  That same doesn’t extend to the woman who chose to run her mouth about something she knew nothing about.  People THOUGHT they knew Alexandra, but they were always proven wrong. With that, Alexandra stood and walked away from the camera, popping the collar on her long wool coat, before looking back over her shoulder for a moment and with that the screen went black.

Offline Luna Pasilno

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Barbwire and the Canonical Five
« Reply #2 on: April 28, 2023, 11:33:29 PM »

Barbwire lover
Scene One | Off-Camera | 28th April 2023

Luna was not quite sure she fully understood, nor agreed with Alex’s approach to training at the best of times. At the worst of times, she definitely didn’t agree.

“Barbwire sucks, trust me on this. It cuts, it sticks, it hurts and you’ll be tasting blood and metal for weeks following. But the first time is always worse.”

“Okay, I get that, Lexi baby. I really do. I just don’t fully think wrapping my hands in barbwire and hitting things is really a good way to go about it.

The look of defeat on his face would almost be endearing if he wasn’t currently holding a spool of sharp barbs.  Alex looked down at the barbwire he was holding in his hand, and nodded slowly. A slow point of realisation finally creeping across his face and mind, hours after the conversation first started. It would have been preferable if he had realised this before they’d bought the damn barbwire, but here they were.

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe… I’m just trying to help here, Lu.”

She smiled, gingerly taking the spool from him and placing it down on a table in their quaint little hotel room. She slipped her arms around his waist and pulled into him, laying her head against his chest. It was always a fine line to walk with him. The stoic man, who was always on the precipice of falling into the void from the strangest things.

“You know what would really help? Letting me, get ready for things, the way that I want to get ready for them. Okay, sugar?”

“Yes… Yes, you are right. I’m sorry, Lu. I’m sorry.”

She had not walked the line correctly. Alex had pulled away from her and turned towards the bathroom.

“I’m just going to take a shower.”

She smiled, and nodded as he closed the door behind him. Sighing heavily she turned and walked out onto the balcony. Staring out over the city. Most days were angelic. Most days were full of love, light and happiness. Not every day was perfect. Being on the road together, being in the same rooms all the time. Practically living together, after only really finding each other again. The rough days, were significantly rougher. And these sorts of days, she couldn’t blame anyone else. This was on them. Broken, and traumatised children.

She pulled her phone from her pocket, unlocking it. James had been keeping her updated, constantly, on how the bar was going, his opinion on Calaway, his opinion on Washington. Suggestions upon suggestions on how to deal with all the different types of matches that they may end up in. Raven was focused on the idea that it will definitely be a barbwire match. It seemed likely, but his hyper focus seemed to somewhat be his undoing as of late. James was far more attached to the street fight or parking lot brawl, but, that was more so because those were far more his wheelhouse. His and… Leon’s.

She hated that even now, all these years later, his ghost still followed them all. Almost killed her in an accident. Toxicity, both of them horrifically bad for each other. The arguments, the fighting, the ‘abuse’. Yet, they all used to be so close. And it made it hard sometimes to just simply forget about the good. With how few moments of good there was in the end, it should be easier than it is. However, she was just as melancholic as Alex was when it came to traumas of the heart, and traumas of the past.

How long did she stand there, staring into space? Staring off into the world, reminiscing the past? No matter how much she tried to think otherwise, they were perfect for each other. Her and Alex. Both teetering on emotional razor-blades. Both responding like despondent puppies when things weren’t quite in their own lens of correct. And then his arms around her waist, his chin on her shoulder. His chest, freshly washed pressed against her back. The smell of after shave, the lightness of fresh skin. His hands linked together over her stomach, holding her close.

“You’re going to kill it, Lu. I know it. I have immense faith in you, you know? I’m just a little bit… off kilter at times. I care, deeply, for you. And I don’t like seeing you hurt, sad. In pain or despondent. I just, want to help. And I don’t think fully, you know?”

“Where has that icy heart gone, Lexi? It’s nauseating the kindness and love.”

Sarcastic words, speaking of her acceptance. The warmth in her face, the warmth in his arms. She rested her head to the side, leaning her face against his. Her fingers placed over his, leaning back into him. It didn’t matter to her, what the match was. It didn’t even matter if she got hurt. All that mattered, was that he was proud of her. That’s all she wanted. Him happy, and proud. And if he was, all the problems of the past would simply dissolve away.

The past was never that easy to escape.

The Canonical Five

It was a strange sight. An empty parking lot, streetlights illuminating the darkened world. There was nary a soul in sight, empty spots all around. Yet there in the middle of one, almost in a spotlight, Luna Vanity. A heavy leather jacket, glittering in the illuminating light. Heavy studs covering the shoulders. On her face, a wide smile. Heavy thick purple eye shadow, her lipstick smeared across her face. Spots of red, looking the victim of a fight. A made-up victim.

“Morbidity is a fascination of mine. Typical, in the modern day really. Every alternative girl, every edgy punk, or every pick me girl with a fascination for the ‘different’ guy. Obsession with death, death and murder. A connection to the life after death, and we pretend that it is okay. That it is acceptable in the vein of curiosity. I’m not different, and I will never pretend to be. I love, who I am. I love, what I am. I love that even despite my vanity, I can see the beauty in the morbidity. And so, when we were announced for London as our finale. Well, there is three it could’ve have been. Morbid, in a tour severely lacking morbidity. The Ripper, the stripper and the Torso murderer. London’s three greatest killers that never got caught. That never even trickled into the depths of possibility. Date though the methods were, the truth is. We will never know the truth. Ripperologists, as they like to be referred to, they spend every waking moment of their dull lives, seeking answers to something that will never truly reveal itself. Yet in that, they find their own purpose. Their own success. Their own level of vanity. Superiority felt because they get to feel somewhat like they are contributing to the world. And whilst I appreciate that, it is just. A little bit sad, isn’t it? You see, lovers, there is always a level to the morbidity. Arguments about the canonical five of Jack the Ripper, compared to the potential canonical four of the Thames Torso Murderer, whether it was the same person, or not. Arguments about the semantics. Semantics, sweet angel. That is what the argument starts as, isn’t it? Semantics.”

“So, let us talk, semantics sweet Alexandra. You tag with someone, you fail to work on yourself, you fail to do what your task is, and someone else takes the fall for it. Semantics is refusing to take acknowledgement of your failures, and in turn blaming the person who did their best to carry you. Semantics, sweet darling. And I do not care for the semantics. No, all I care about, is people acknowledging their short-comings. The path to self love exists in their acknowledgement, Alexandra.”


She raised a hand above her head, and clicked her fingers, the light going off. ‘Insufferable, bitch, cow, maggot, filthy, whore, slut. The words bounce through the unending night, filling the air. ‘SILENCE.’

Another click, the light returning to the world. Luna sitting cross-legged on a stretcher, a long blade in hand, pressing the tip of it lightly against the tip of one of her fingers. Sitting upon her head, a crown of barbwire. On the ground, five body bags. Each appears to be filled with something.

“So, let us start on acceptance, Alexandra. There is but one fucking queen here in Sin City. No lousy tramp, flouncing her way in with delusions of grandeur will take that away from me. Short stumbles, yes. For in youth, for in inexperience, growing. Learning, development. All things a young queen needs. An experienced King consort, to guide the Broken Queen. No, Alexandra. There is but one Queen of this mucky, filthy, degenerate city. The Queen of The Conspiracy, Luna Vanity. The matron of fate, and the mother of destiny. A short-coming in my first defense, but nothing that can’t be rectified. The world saw a truth, and that was that it was simply Jessie Salco’s inventiveness that won. Jessie couldn’t keep me down, no woman can. Salco had to tie me up. Keep me off my feet in a way that denied me the right to put her down. But it’s okay, Calaway. I know you were heartbroken that I failed to keep my end of the deal. But it’s okay, Calaway. Because now, there is nothing to interfere with that which lays before us.”

“You, Calaway, will learn. You will learn the path we offer. The path we can give you. The path of The Conspiracy. Acceptance is what is required for progress, and in your acceptance, freedom from the traumas of the past. Freedom from the distortions of your reality. The broken can be made whole again, and in that, love. Love for yourself, love for all, angel. I want you to know this. I want you to see what I’m telling you. I just want you to accept, your own fault, in the collapse of the kingdom. The collapse, that Alex now has a chance to fix. A kingdom that he will rebuild on his back, blood and bone. For he does not resent you. Neither of us resent you, darling false queen. No, what we want is the best for you. But what is best, requires absolution. Requires redemption. Requires cleansing in blood. A grudge match, so they say. Yet I don’t hold a grudge against you, sweet false one. No, angel. I adore you. Truly, I do. A shining example of the success one can achieve. A shining example of the power that one can hold if they just have that belief in oneself. Yet where you are, and where you could be. Two ends of the world, and in that. A true understanding. So, Calaway. Like The Ripper, let me change you forever. Let me put your soul to peace, and give you a life free of the past. “


She flicks the blade up and out rapidly, pointing it out towards the light. A streak of blood shooting out following. A quick flow of blood ebbs from the fresh wound, trickling down her hand. Down onto the white skinny jeans. Onto the white sleeves of the jacket. Slowly she unfurls her legs, and leaps down. Kneeling next to one of the first five bags.

“Do you know much of Jack the Ripper, false queen? Let me tell you a little bit. I am, somewhat of an expert in the morbid, after all. There is what is known as the canonical five. I think it would have been fitting for them to have offered the fans five choices in stipulation, but alas. Not everyone puts these dots together. No, sweet one. We have the canonical five. Mary Ann Nichols, Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride, Catherine Eddows and Mary Jane Kelly.  These five women, poor street workers of the time. They had their lives unfortunately cut short by a man who mutilated and defiled their corpses. Took the parts of them that make them whole, and denied them that. Took the parts of them, that they used to survive.  Alcoholics, and prostitutes. The less dead, if you will. A favourite of the sick and depraved. Those people will not miss, but who the slightly different see as the targets of their ire. Sweet, beautiful women, but lost to time. Never with redemption found. Blood payment not taken. So blood, for blood, we will fight in their stead. Analogy, is something that Raven likes to talk about. And I think I can play my hand here. I can play the analogy of this situation.”

“The canonical five, four stipulations and a loser. Blood payment will be made, that is for certain. A London street fight, a place favoured by the blades. Life taking instruments of sharp nature, and quick to blood those who would stand against them. Our very own, Polly, if you will. The first, but not last. The victim to meet the blade, but would certainly not stem the flow. I’m partial to the idea of it, but. It lacks the required penance, I think we need. For this is a washing of sin, lover. We are offered the opportunity to absolve you of your mistakes, and in it, safety. Do you know what is interesting, about poor sweet Polly? She had five children. Symbolism would have us believe that means something. I’ll leave that to you, angel. But the woman who had her abdomen torn by the knife, she was denied the right to see her children come to hate her. ”


She smiles, as she lowers the zip of the bag. Inside a mannikin with a red smile painted on its face. The knife raised, and plunged down. Through the head of the mannikin. Paint, red paint, leaking from within. Leaking from the impact wound. A slight shrug of the shoulders, as she climbs to her feet, swaying slightly. Light headed. She moves to the next, and lifts the bag. Heaving it backwards to the stretcher. Lifting and placing it on the stretcher.

“The stretcher. Let’s call this one Annie. Annie lost a daughter. Another victim of marital collapse, alcohol abuse. Alcohol took their marriage from them, and denied them a daughter. So the stretcher, we’ll call that our Annie. To watch a loved one, taken away. Dead, alive, or unknown. None is a pretty sight. None is a pretty idea. I wouldn’t wish the thought of potential death on anyone. Especially not one I adore such as you. No, sweet Alexandra. I do not think the stretcher fitting. There is not enough hate, to deny us the life he hold so dearly. Broken though we may be, we are not victims of our mistakes. Our obsessions. Of our addictions. So, whilst I think there is potential in a stretcher.”

She grunts and grabs the edge of the stretcher pushing it out into the darkness. Into the world beyond. A victim forgotten to the darkness.

“I think we can do better, don’t you?”

This time, she grabbed two of the bags, and dragged them into the centre of the spotlight. She leaned down and lowered the zippers of both bags, inside another set of manikins. A clock painted on one, the other with a sad face.

“Catherine and Elizabeth. Perhaps the most interesting sequence. Elizabeth was left in a far better state than the previous two, and much better than the final two. Interrupted, is the assumed reason. A slash to the throat, and she was left to be found in the stable yard. A parking lot of its day, if you will. Poor sweet Elizabeth, she was almost denied being a victim of The Ripper. Yet, it was only the arrival of one Louis Diemschutz, that protected her sweet body from its inevitable defilement. A moment of reprieve, if you will. A reprieve not offered to our sweet Catherine. A woman found fifteen minutes after he release from prison. A woman found in such a heavily mutilated state, that it changed the trajectory of the investigation. The speed, the skill, the brutality. A man of knowledge this had to be. But beyond that, anger beyond belief. Angry at his previous denial.”

“The parking lot, it is very much a place of anger. Bad drivers, insufferable pedestrians. Accidents, blindness. People are filled with aggression in this place. Compartively, yes. It would make perfect sense for us to pay your redemption here, in a parking lot. But, I do not hold the anger Jack did. I do not hold the knowledge, skill and swift hand of the educated. No, I am but a simple woman. More akin to the victim than the killer. One bad decision away from a life not far different from those we now obsess over for details. Details of a grisly death, to justify. Justification is the way of our world, isn’t it, false one? We have to justify action to allow ourselves to understand. Yet in death, there is no understanding. In the brutality of Jack the Ripper, in the Torso murders, or even the modern day unknown in Jack the Stripper. Knowing who, offers us nothing. And so, we leave sweet Elizabeth and Catherine to their own. We leave them to be, in a world of their own darkness. But, let this analogy speak to she who would have denied me my time. Jessie, I know you’re listening. And I know you are watching. You were to be my Elizabeth. But the next time we meet, you will be my Catherine. Brutally destroyed, and in speed blisteringly unbelievable. I promise you that. No experience divide when retribution demands blood.”


She slowly raises her hand to her head, lifting the crown of barbwire from her head. Strands of hair falling and tearing out. A slight grimace, as she clicks her bloody fingers. The light going away once more. ‘Mongrel, bitch, pathetic. Failure, fake, nobody. Cunt, mongrel, mutt.' Multiple voices, washing over each other. The words echoing around the world of darkness once more. And then a scream. A scream of pain, a scream of fear. A woman’s scream. Another click, this time a quaint bedroom. On the bed a manikin with sections of its body removed. It’s entire form painted red. The body bag shredded and cast around the room.

Luna is sitting at the end of the bed, the barbwire resting lightly on her palms. One hand heavily bloodied. Spatters of blood all over her white clothing. The other hand pristine, without blemish.

“Mary Jane, the final victim. Perhaps the worst of the them. I’ll allow opinion to fall to that. But Mary Jane is the perfect analogy for the final stipulation choice, don’t you think? The most likely outcome, and the most brutal the murders. Mary Jane, last heard singing loudly at one in the morning. The next morning, upon rental collection, a grisly sight. Skin and body parts removed, and thrown through the room. Without rush, without danger. The first of the victims killed in doors, Jack the Ripper could take his time with her. Could take all the precautions he needed, and brutalise this woman beyond belief. Bleed her dry, and take that which he felt was his. Do you know why I think this is the best comparison, false queen? Because barbwire is not forgiving. It is not understanding. It is not with comprehension. Like this particular act of anger, and violence. Barbwire can drag out the suffering. It will cut, it will bleed, it will tear. It will remove flesh from bone if needs, and it will cut deep to deny your limbs their required sustenance. Barbwire is the choice of The Conspiracy, because barbwire is the way of enlightenment. The first time it cuts the skin, the first time it breaks flesh. The blood flows, and penance is paid.”

“So, I want you to be my Mary Jane, sweet Alexandra. Be the Mary Jane to my own Ripper love. When I place the crown of thorns upon your head, blood awash the face, and you get to see the love we have for you. When you are bleeding out, and ebbing between consciousness, I want you to know. What I must do, is not out of hatred. Is not out of resentment or blame. And you are to blame, let’s not forget that, sugar. You are to fucking blame. Yet I do not expect you to ever see that. Denial is our strongest distortion of reality. Delusion, and broken sight. It is all within reason, and I understand that. I understand the disparity between acceptance and denial. I was a broken, undeserving girl. He took me. He took my brother. He took all of us, and guided us to the light. Guided us to understanding that it is okay to be broken. It is okay to be unsure of yourself. But in failure, payment is made. Redemption is only founded through blood. If not your own, then that of those who are wronging you. Raven made an example of Bulldog. And so, if you will not accept your fault. I will make an example of you, Alexandra. You will be my Mary Jane.”


She smiles as she stands, slowly stepping around to where the head of the manikin is. She places the barbwire crown on its face, and leans down, placing a gentle kiss to it. The smile remains, her bloodied hand dragging a smear the crimson across his face. Giving her a half crimson mask of sorts.

“So, let me give you a little bit of warning, lover. I am here to show you, love. I am here to show you, where you can be. I am here to let you know that you are welcome in The Conspiracy. For in The Conspiracy, we were all kings and queens, on equal level, because of our vanity. Because of our self-love. Our desire to lift and raise others to our level. For ours is not the beaming lights, and the mansions on hills. No ours is the bickering squabbling masses. Fighting for a shred of dignity, acceptance and love. We are the Kings and Queens of the Broken, for the Broken are what give us the right to stand at the apex of what we do. Those who accept, are guided to a better place, but not by force. Not by a shepherd. Not by a flock. No, we are all our own, but rules must be followed. Blood for blood, blame for blame. And your own wars, are your own. I broke a cardinal rule, when I took his war for my own, and in it. Blood with be made. So I will take yours. I will take whatever you offer. I will take what you hand me, and I will bring you to rest. Street Fight, Stretcher, Parking Lot or Barbwire, it does not matter. For the canonical five, shall stay, five. For this Queen will not bow to the whims of a former. Ripper Queen? The only fucking ripper here, is Luna god damn Vanity, bitch.”

She smiles, raising both hands high above her head. The click of fingers and then…

Darkness.

Silence.

Nothing.