That Feeling Doesn’t Subside
Colorado Springs, CO
Last Sunday Night

The fluorescent lights in the waiting room of UCHealth Memorial buzzed with a low, constant hum, white noise Miles barely registered. He sat on the edge of a plastic chair that was far too small for him, fingers laced so tightly together his knuckles were bone white. His right leg bounced restlessly, heel tapping the floor in an uneven rhythm that betrayed everything he was trying and failing to hide.

Carter sat to his left, elbows on his knees, clutching his phone but not looking at it. His eyes stayed fixed on the double doors leading to the trauma wing. He hadn’t said a word in several minutes, but his silence wasn’t cold, it was controlled and contained. The last thing his husband and Ally needed was him completely losing his own shit about the situation. The only outward sign of stress was the way he kept cracking the knuckles of his thumbs.

On the other side of Miles, Ally paced like her shoes were on fire. Her phone was pressed to her ear, one hand digging into her hair, “No, Ash, baby, listen to me,” Ally said, trying to keep her voice steady, "He’s fine for the most partthey’re just running tests and scans. They need to make sure his ribs are okay and his shoulder. And.no, sweetheart, no one knows anything yet.”

Miles flinched at the tremor in her voice. Ally was tough, tougher than most gave her credit for, but seeing LJ getting wheeled backstage, seeing Barnhart’s boot come down again and again in a match that never got underway because he was a fat fucking cowardthat had shaken all three of them in different ways.

“Tell her he’s stubborn as hell,” Miles said quietly, "And too damn hard-headed to stay down.”

Ally nodded, wiping her nose, "Ash, did you hear that? Yeah. Miles said he’s too stubborn to let Barnhart keep him down.”

A muffled, frantic voice came through the phone, the 16 year old Ashlynn’s panic, barely contained. She had come to really adore LJ and you could tell even through the muffles.

Right beside Carter, in a chair that seemed to swallow him whole, Kevin sat huddled up, his arms wrapped around his knees. His hands twisted nervously between his fingers, the way they always did when he was trying to pretend he was calm. He wasn’t calm, in fact he looked pale and stressed. You could tell he was attempting to stay calm with his earbuds in his ears, playing music, but in his eyes you could tell that it was like he was reliving every second of the attack in his head.

Miles reached over and nudged Kevin’s knee lightly, "Hey. You holdin’ up?”

Kevin swallowed hard, pulling one of the earbuds out, “I justI’ve neverseeing someone get jumped like that seeing LJ not move” He shook his head, voice small, "It freaked me out.”

Miles softened. Protective instinct didn’t stop with LJ; it spread to the teenagers in their care too, "He’s tougher than he looks. Trust me.”

Carter nodded, though his jaw was tight, "Stubborn too. Drives both of us insane.”

Ally’s voice breaks through for a moment, “Yes, sweetheart, I promise we’ll call the second a doctor talks to us. Yes. I swear. Okay. I love you too.”

She hung up and exhaled shakily, leaning her head against the wall for a moment before sliding down into the chair next to Miles. He immediately put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in. She didn’t resist. After a few moments, she glanced over at Kevin, knowing that the poor kid had spent a lot of time in the hospital before coming home with Miles and Carter, “Hey, you’re okay,” she murmured, she reached out her hand and he took it, brushing her thumb over Kevin’s hand, “We’re all okay. He’she’s going to be okay.”

Miles wanted to believe that. He needed to believe that but every minute the doctor took made his stomach coil tighter.

The clock ticked, the hum of lights droned on. A nurse rolled a cart past them. Someone down the hall coughed. Everything felt too loud and too quiet at the same time.

Miles stared at the floor, jaw clenched so tightly Carter half-expected to hear a tooth crack. He had to calm his husband down someway so he just reached out and took his hand and breathed out, “At least Evelyn said you’re getting Barnhart next week,” Carter murmured, finally breaking the silence.

“I know.” Miles didn’t look up, "Doesn’t really help me right now.”

“Didn’t say it was supposed to.”

Miles flexed his fingers, rubbing the heel of his palm against his forehead, "I should’ve been there sooner. I should’ve.”

“No,” Ally cut in sharply, eyes red but fierce, "Don’t start with that, Miles. You have your own thing going and doing what was asked at the time, you came the second you heard. This is on Barnhart, not you.”

Carter nodded, "All of us were in the building. Barnhart planned all of this and you know it. He knew exactly when to strike.”

Miles swallowed hard. He wanted to believe them, but guilt had a way of worming its way in regardless. His little brother was somewhere behind those doors, hooked up to monitors, getting scanned for fractures and internal damage and he had been powerless to stop it.

The waiting room door slid open, drawing all three heads up at once. Miles’ heart hammered so violently he felt it in his throat but it was only another nurse passing through. He slumped back, exhaling through clenched teeth, fingers digging into the armrests, "If they make us wait much longer I’m gonna”

“Mr. Kasey?”

The three of them snapped to attention, as though pulled by the same wire.

A doctor stood in the doorway, chart in hand, expression calm but not grim or heavy. Not the kind that made the stomach drop.

Miles was on his feet instantly, "That’s me. How is he doing? Is he?”

The doctor raised his hand gently, "LJ is doing just fine. He’s a bit sore. Actually he’s very sore but the scans show no internal bleeding, no organ damage, and the rib we were concerned about is bruised, not broken. The shoulder is strained, but not torn. He’s extremely lucky. We gave him some medication to help with the pain.”

Ally covered her mouth with both hands. Carter sagged back into his chair in silent, shaky relief.

Miles felt like someone had loosened a steel band around his chest, "Can we see him?”

“Yes,” the doctor said, "But only one or two at a time for now. He’s in Observation B.”

Miles didn’t wait for more. He turned, grabbed Ally’s hand with one of his and Carter’s sleeve with the other.

“You two first,” he said firmly, "Go.”

Ally hesitated, "Miles”

“Go.” His voice softened, but his eyes stayed resolute, "He needs you. And I gottapull myself together before I go in there. Or he’s gonna think he’s dying from the look on my face.”

Carter gave a small, tired smirk, "At least you’re self-aware.”

Ally squeezed Miles’ hand hard, "We’ll only be a minute.”

Miles nodded, "Tell him tell him I’m right out here.”

As they slipped through the doors, Miles sat back down heavily, scrubbing a hand over his face. Kevin remained beside him, quiet. After a moment, the boy spoke softly, "You know you didn’t fail him.”

Miles didn’t answer immediately. Not because he didn’t hear Kevin but because the truth lodged somewhere deep in his throat. Finally, he let out a shaky breath, "Feels like I did.”

Kevin shook his head, "You weren’t supposed to predict that. I don’t think that anybody could. Barnhart’s just a piece of shit.”

Miles blinked, surprised at the bluntness, but then let out a small huff of a laugh, "Yeah. Yeah, he is.”

There was a beat of silence that fell between them. Then Kevin added, more firmly, “And LJ’s gonna be fine. He’s strong and he’s got you and Allyand Carter. I should know that more than anybody that having you guys and what it can do for someone”

Miles swallowed hard at that. When he finally spoke, the fire in his voice was unmistakable, "Next week? Barnhart’s gonna learn exactly what happens when you go after my family.”

Kevin nodded slowly, "Good.”

Miles leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring toward the trauma doors where his brother lay recovering. Next week in Boulder wasn’t just a match. It was a different level of personal. A line had been crossed. Miles was going to make sure Bill Barnhart regretted ever touching his brother.

--------

No Good Deed
Las Vegas, NV
Few Days Later

The grocery store was quiet in that mid-morning lull where only retirees, busy parents, and the humans trying to hold their households together seemed to wander. Miles Kasey pushed his cart with his hip, his phone tucked between shoulder and ear as he maneuvered around a pallet of restocked soda.

“You’re talking too fast, kid. Slow down,” Miles said as he tossed a bundle of cilantro in the cart, "You’re making me dizzy.”

On the other end, LJ huffed, exasperated, "I’m fine, Miles. Really. Ally keeps making me sit down, Ash keeps telling me I need to ‘sit and heal,’ and you keep asking me if I’m dizzy every twenty minutes.”

“That’s because you were dizzy every twenty minutes yesterday,” Miles countered, grabbing a box of protein bars, "And I’d rather annoy you than let you walk into a wall.”

He heard LJ’s laugh, small but genuine. Those were rare after the attack, “Honestly,” LJ sighed, “I’m just grateful finals were over before all this shit with Bill happened. If I had to take that Constitutional Law essay with a concussion? God, I’d have spelled ‘due process’ wrong.”

“Oh you’d have done that anyway,” Miles teased, "But at least you would’ve had the concussion as an excuse instead of just being you.”

“Miles”

“Kidding,” he said, though his grin softened, "Mostly.”

Miles turned into the wine aisle, scanning the shelves even though this wasn’t the section he’d come for. Force of habit. Years with Carter meant he automatically checked for certain bottles, certain years, certain labels, "How’s Ally holding up with all of this?” Miles asked, picking up a familiar cabernet.

“Worried. She’s been clinging to me like I’m gonna fall over every five seconds.”

“Well,” Miles drawled, “You did fall over yesterday.”

“BECAUSE BILL HIT ME WITH...”

“Everything but the kitchen sink?” Miles finished, smirking.

LJ groaned loudly, "Though it feels like it, trust me.”

“Though Bill is built like an overstuffed goddy as fuck old school steel fridgeI’m not shocked. He may look like a pillow but somehow there is muscle under that lard.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I know.” Miles looked down at the bottle in his hand. It was one of Carter’s favorites, Cabernet Sauvignon. The one that usually meant a relaxing night with his husband, the two of them curled up on the couch, complaining about the world or watching terrible reality shows. But he couldn’t remember if Carter had any at the moment so he thought twice and sat the bottle back on the shelf.

“Anyway,” Miles said, pushing the cart forward, “You just keep resting. You’re gonna heal faster if you actually listen.”

“You sound like Moms,” LJ muttered.

“Someone has to. She’s not here, and I’m the best option by default.”

He turned into the deli and bakery area as LJ’s tone softened.

“Seriously though Thanks, Miles ya knowFor checking in. For everything lately. I know you’re juggling everything being a big bad Internet Champion and stuff and Carter and my shit and now Alex and.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Miles cut in, grabbing a container of macaroni salad, "First off, your ‘shit’ is not shit. You got jumped by a big fucking bitch. You’re recovering and I’m allowed to care, believe it or not.”

There was a pause, and Miles could practically hear LJ working through emotions on the other end, "Yeah I know.”

“And second,” Miles continued, “I love you, bro. That doesn’t shut off just because life gets busy.”

He heard LJ swallow on the other end. Not crying but he was close, "Yeah. I love you too, Miles.”

“Good. Now get something to eat and by that I mean something real that isn’t protein powder or energy bars.”

“You are currently buying me protein bars.”

“No, those are for me. You get actual food.”

“I swear to you.”

Miles turned, ready to make another jab, another joke.and froze. Because the wine bottle was sitting neatly in the front basket of the cart. The same bottle he had put back. He blinked a couple of times as he looked around to see if he could see if maybe it could have been someone that accidentally just placed it in his cart but there wasn’t a soul around him.

“Miles?” LJ called, "Are you still there?”

Miles didn’t move and his eyes stayed locked on the bottle, "Yeah,” he finally said, voice lower, slower, "Yeah, I’m here.”

“Everything alright over there?”

Miles swallowed hard, "Thought I was. But uh remind me not to grocery shop alone anymore.”

“Why? What happened?”

Miles slowly reached into the cart and lifted the bottle just enough to feel the weight, "I put something back on a shelf,” he said carefully, scanning the aisles around him, "And somehow it ended up in my cart anyway.”

LJ went quiet. But after a moment he said cautiously, “Like someone put it there?”

Miles’s skin prickled, "I didn’t hear anyone and didn’t see anyone and nobody was close enough. Not going to lie, since that whole thing with the shirt that showed up in the closet that Carter swears he didn’t buy, you’d think I would be a bit more aware.”

Then LJ said, with that familiar uneasy sarcasm, “I would just put that back and walk away, just stay aware man. Are ya gonna tell Carter?"

“I mean it would be wrong for me not to tell him,” Miles muttered, lowering the bottle back into the cart, "I need to finish up, I’ll be there soon.”

As he hung up, he looked over his shoulder again but there was still no one there. He couldn’t help himself, as the uneasy feeling crept up his spine told him he wasn’t as alone as he thought.

--------

Attack for the Next Generation
Las Vegas, NV

The camera came on without ceremony, there was no music, no SCW logo and absolutely no attempt to soften what’s coming.

Miles Kasey sat on the edge of the bed in his room, elbows resting on his knees, hands loosely clasped. The lighting is low, a single lamp off to the side casting hard shadows across his face. He’s already wearing one of his infamous ring jackets designed and created by Mattie Comier, it was mostly blue with white and red sewn in throughout with a Union Jack cape hanging off to the left of it, it was worn in, the kind of jacket that’s earned its place. When he shifts, the camera catches the words stitched across the back:

ATTACK FOR THE NEXT GENERATION.

Miles doesn’t look angry at first, he was looking more focused than he had in a while. He could easily snap at any given moment but he had to stay focused. His head lifts and his blue eyes shine directly into the camera.

“Bill Barnhart.” His voice is calm, it’s that deadly calm that should immediate make their opponent shit themselves, but we know that Billy boy is just too fucking stupid for that, “You know... I went back to last week’s Climax Control and watched it, over and over. Not because I wanted to but because I needed to understand how a grown man, a so-called veteran, looks at a kid quite literally half his size and decides that THAT is how he makes his point.”

Miles exhales sharply through his nose, jaw tightening.

“You didn’t attack LJ because you’re tough, you didn’t do it because you’re dangerous. You did it because you’re afraid. Yeah, you heard me right, Barnhart, you are a bloody FUCKING coward and you have been for quite sometime. You have been since the day I walked into SCW, quick to take that low-hanging fruit, attempt to exploit it until it eventually blows up in your face. And it ALWAYS DOES!!!!”

He leans forward now, forearms pressing into his thighs.

“You’re afraid of the locker room passing you by. Afraid of a generation that doesn’t need your approval, doesn’t ask your permission, and sure as hell doesn’t fear your name the way you wish they still did.”

A humorless laugh slips out of his lips as he shifts slightly and just keeps going.

“You run your mouth about ‘soft talent.’ About kids who haven’t paid their dues or about how you were built differently.” Miles’ eyes harden, "The funny thing is? The only thing I saw last week was a coward that couldn’t wait until the bell was ringing to do his damage.”

His voice starts to rise now. He’s not yelling yet, but there is still a sharp edge to his tone.

“You wanna talk about paying dues? For over a year I have watched as LJ earned his shots the right way. He was walking to that ring to wrestle. You attacked him looking for a shortcut because you know damn well you can’t hang bell to bell anymore with at least 95% of this roster. I’ve been able to prove that POINT on more than ONE OCCASION, especially when I even felt bad for you and handed you a chance to prove me wrong. And you still got your head stomped into the canvas on that night.”

He reaches back, grips the collar of the jacket, tugging it forward just enough for the camera to see it clearly.

“This right here, I’m wearing it Sunday. ATTACK for the Next Generation isn’t just a slogan to me, Bill. This is a promise. This promise right here is what keeps me standing up to the likes of the veterans in this fucking business who refuse to let go of what was instead of looking at what COULD BE!”

“I wear this because I believe in the next generation. I believe in kids like LJ who show up, put their bodies on the line, and still shake hands after the fight. I believe in talent that grows, learns, and gets better. And you? You’re standing in their way like a bitter old gatekeeper screaming at the tide to stop coming in.”

He sits back and just shakes his head slowly.

“You wanna know the truth you’re avoiding?”

He leans closer to the camera.

“You’re avoiding the truth of how your time has already passed.”

The words land like a hammer.

“This company moved on, the fans moved on, the locker room moved on and instead of accepting that, instead of mentoring, instead of contributing, you chose to take a cheap shot at my little brother to remind yourself you still exist.”

Miles’ voice drops, it’s down right dangerous now.

“If I had my way? After Climax Control, you would never be cleared to wrestle again. I would put you on a shelf so high you’d need binoculars to see the ring ever again. But I made a promise...”

He exhales, controlled but shaking with fury.

“I promised LJ I’d leave you with some dignity. That I wouldn’t end you. That I wouldn’t become the thing you already are, which is a fucking bully.”

Miles’ jaw clenches hard.

“So this Sunday, in Boulder at Climax Control? My title isn’t on the line but I don’t give a shit! I’m going to hurt you the right way, I’m going to make you bleed...and I’m going to hurt you, bruv. I’m gonna hurt you real bad.”

He points directly at the camera.

“I’m going to beat you in the middle of the ring. I’m going to outwork you, outlast you AND MOST IMPORTANTLY outclass you. And if you’re lucky... real lucky... you’ll walk away with just a fraction of the pain you put my brother through. And then I’m going to sit back at Inception and then I’m going to watch as my little brother puts you down like the DOG YOU ARE FOR GOOD!”

His voice finally snaps, red hot and raw.

“You don’t get to preach about this business anymore, Bill. Not after what you did. Not when your legacy is nothing but bitterness and bad decisions.”

Miles stands tall now, looming in frame.

“This isn’t completely about revenge. Think of it as more about accountability and the consequences of your actions and YOUR ACTIONS ALONE!”

He turns slightly, giving one last clear look at the words on his jacket.

“Attack for the Next Generation.”

Miles looks back at the camera, eyes blazing.

“And Bill? You may wanna start praying that I keep my promise.”

The camera cuts.

Cassie may have been pinned in the Tag Team Match between Fire and Fury and Young Justice but the Aussie’s growing frustration with her standing in the Bombshell Division meant one thing: she wasn’t done running her mouth about management or their bias towards the stars of yesteryear! But this week on Climax Control she may have really stepped in it as she was facing a former World Bombshell Champion again and this time? it has a hardcore match against “The Dreamkiller” Kayla Richards who had already been scheduled to wrestle Bella Madison in a hardcore rules match at Inception VIII! Can Cassie score the upset?

Cassie’s home, Las Vegas, Nevada
Tuesday the 9th of December 2025, 14:00pm

They call it disrespect, I call it what is is!

Namely? Me calling out the bosses’ bullshit and them being too thin skinned to accept that they were wrong, and honestly? I could’ve gone after any of the has beens who were booked instead of me for Violent Conduct and the fact that I nearly missed out on the biggest show of the year?

Why? Because Christian Underwood is a spineless coward who only cares about former champions and not their current performance! I honestly could’ve gone after any of the ill-deserved bombshells who did initially get booked for the Grand Prix of professional wrestling but seeing as how Candy is the symbol of everything wrong with the Bombshell Division and everyone else is too blin by their love for her to see it? She was an easy target.

And setting aside for vindicated I felt when Candy not only bombed in her match against Amelia Reynolds and subsequent match against Frankie Holiday? That so called disrespect has led to the bosses booking me in a hardcore match against Kayla Richards that may as well be titled “Cassie hurt our feelings and this is our retaliation!”.

At least Mark Ward know what the fuck he was doing.

Anyway! Since my match against Kayla was announced you’d think I’d be training, right? Well, here’s the thing: I don’t know if you’ve noticed but Christmas is literally two weeks away and my mom isn’t exactly a huge fan of me training this close to the holidays and has been dragging me away from Josh’s gym and Hero Academy, both of which are about to close up for the holidays, that doesn’t mean that I haven’t been training but my training has been a lot more limited than it could have been.

All because some dude in the middle east was born in a stable back in the days of the Roman Empire! Typical, huh?

”Okay, guess I’d better go through the Amazon list.” I commented to Harper as she sat behind me, it was a brief moment of respite for us and we were going over the Christmas lists we had gotten from our respective relatives over the past few weeks. ”You gotten any hints about gifts from your family Harp?”

”I had to talk Jason and McKenzie out of buying my a replica Bombshell Roulette Title belt.” Harper grunted and I snorted so loud that it startled my golden lab Sandy. ”And my little sis was so weirdly sweet about it, she actually said that I could use it to mess with Victoria in the future!”

”Keep telling you Harp, that girl’s got a mid for the business already, wouldn’t be surprised if she enrolled at Hero Academy one day!” I responded with a grin and Harper shook her head. ”And that day will make us feel SO FUCKING OLD!”

”It wouldn’t be that bad Cass! She’s ten years old, she’s only eight years away from being old enough to enrol.” Harper pointed out and knowing that we had both enrolled when we were eighteen? I couldn’t deny that she had a point. ”Which is of course assuming that she will even want to get into wrestling! Anyway, what about you?”

”Well, I finally convinced my mom to just give me money for Christmas and let me order my own stuff.” I responded with a sigh as I turned to my younger partner in crime. ”And that was after my endless attempts to get her to add Expedition 33 to my weishlist!”

”I’m so glad that I got that game for my birthday back in September.” Harper responded with a grin and I just gave her a playful glare. ”So, you ever going to let the Candy thing go?”

”Not as long as Christian and Evelyn continue to live in the delusion that she’s more relevant than me because she held one title five fucking years ago!” I responded as I shook my head. ”I said it once and I’ll say it again, I’m the one who actually puts effort in when I’m booked! Candy’s been half assing everything since she came back and because I’m the only one willing to call this shit out? They booked me in this Hardcore Match against Kayla!”

”Are you even sure it’s about your comments?” Harper asked as she leaned forward. ”You’ve been practically screaming from the rooftops about how you were right since Candy’s last two matches but surely this match against Kayla is a coincidence!”

”They literally referenced my comments in the match description Harp! They had the gall to claim that I’m the one being disrespectful!” I pointed out as I let out an annoyed huff. ”All because they are too deluded to admit that I’m right!” I added and Harper shook her head before the conversation drifted off.

Josh’s Gym, Las Vegas, Nevada
Wednesday the 10th of December 2025, 13:00pm

Just because the holidays are drawing near doesn’t mean I can’t train!

Granted, Hardcore Matches are a bitch to train for because there’s no rules and, well, how can you prepare for a match where nothing if out of bounds?

Not nearly as difficult as it is to prepare for the Roulette Division because you literally have to try to prepare for anything and everything but even so!

“Right Cass, I went over this with Harper when she stopped by yesterday evening and I’ll do the same with you.” Joshue commented as he walked up to me and I glanced up from the hand weights that I had been using. “I’ll be closing the gym for the holidays after Climax Control this Sunday but If you and Harper are booked for the Christmas special we’ll train the old fashioned away.”

”Like jogging, push ups and swimming?” I asked and Josh nodded to confirm that I was on the money. ”At least that’s better than what Hero Academy did, they closed up shop for the hoidays at the beginning of the week.”

“That’s down to Hero Academy and it is a training school so it makes sense that they’d close a bit earlier.” Josh nodded in response and I frowned as I realized that he had a point. “If you are booked for Inception then I’ll open up early when the New Year rolls around, I already know what Harper is doing at the first Supercard of the year.”

”Well, yeah, anyone who’s been paying attention to her spat with Victoria could’ve seen that coming.” I responded with a nodded and Josh nodded in agreement. ”But me? I hate this feeling of uncertainty. Especially after I missed Violent Conduct and almost missed High Stakes.”

“And we’ve talked about your comments on that situation enough as it is.” Josh nodded with a frown as he folded his arms. “But we’ll see what happens, we know that Christian and Evelynn will be announcing the last matches for Inception VIII on Sunday.”

”I would’ve thought they’d save that for the Christmas show but I guess they want to save that for the charity stuff.” I shrugged in response before I set aside the hand weight. ”Which is funny considering how much of a charity case Candy has been since she returned!”

“I’m not going to comment on that, just focus on training.” Josh instructed me and I nodded at my manager’s advice before I resumed training.

Josh’s Gym, Las Vegas, Nevada
Wednesday the 10th of December 2025, 16:00pm

*promo time*

As I got ready for one of the last promos of the year (and possibly my last depending on how the Christmas Special turns out) I leaned on the ring ropes with my arms crossed.

”’Tis the season of giving I guess! And the bosses apparently feel that I’ve been giving them too much disrespect based on the fact that my next match is a Hardcore Match against Kayla Richards!” I stated as I rolled my eyes before I grabbed my phone and pulled up the match. ”Too directly quote the match description for our little match up Kayla: “But across from her stands Cassie Wolfe, who’s made it crystal clear that she doesn’t care who she offends or injures, from her merciless treatment of Candy to the blatant, in your face disrespect towards SCW Officials”.

The disrespect?! What a fucking joke!” I scoffed before putting my phone away. ”Allow me to translate that from corporate bullshit to English: “Cassie Wolfe has pointed out just how many times we’ve fucked up and now we’re punishing her with that this match because we’re spineless, think skinned cowards who can’t take criticism!”, I mean really, who the hell does Christian think he’s fooling?!”

I asked as I scoffed loudly.

”Only thing that was missing from that was more corporate buzzwords but I didn’t want to make Christian sound intelligent either!” I added before shaking my head. ”Oh Kayla, you were one of my opponents in the biggest match of my SCW Career to date, which of course was the Bombshell Elimination Chamber Match at Blaze of Glory, so tell me Kay, how does it feel to go from a World Bombshell Champion to a corporate attack dog?

Because that is basically what you are in this match! They are just using your upcoming Hardcore Match against Bella as a pretext to try to shut me up!” I stated bluntly as I flipped some hair over my shoulder. ”And what is my crime? Refusing to stay silent while someone as undeserving as Candy gets booked for the biggest show of the year and I’m relegated to bench warmer? The real crime is whoever’s telling Christian that he knows what he’s doing!”

You heard me.

”But hey, look on the Brightside Kayla, maybe they’ll throw you a treat in the form of a World Bombshell Title Match in the New Year because you’ve been such a good girl!” I added with my voice dripping with sarcasm. ”God fucking knows the world needs another super long Kayla Richards title reign where the only thing tighter than the grip on her title are the crop tops that she wears to the ring!

And yes, in case it wasn’t obvious, that was sarcasm!” I added bluntly as I brushed some hair over my shoulder. ”But really Kayla, what do you stand to gain from this match? Momentum for the hardcore match against Bella? Or is this the decline of Kayla Richards before our very eyes? Going from World Bombshell Champion one minute to not even being booked for High Stakes and only getting on the Inception Card because they felt like putting you in a Hardcore match?”

It's that simple.

”And here’s yet more evidence of Christian’s “b……..b……..but Candy’s a former champion” argument holds zero fucking weight when not even the longest reigning World Bombshell Champion of modern times can’t even get booked for the biggest show of the year!” I added as I flipped some hair over my shoulder. ”Meanwhile I wrestled a former World Bombshell Champion literally one week after I blew out my bad knee in a match but I’m still not worthy? I’d say Christan has a screw loose but even that’s putting it mildly.”

And with that I decided to wrap things up.

”They call me disrespectful when my only crime is advocating for myself and when I refuse to back down? They turn a former World Bombshell Champion into a corporate attack dog and sic her on me in a Hardcore Rules Match! Sad state of affairs for you, isn’t it Kay?” I asked sarcastically before shaking my head. ”But the truth of the matter is? I’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain from winning this match and maybe then, Christian will fuck off with this horseshit! Too all my fans? In a world of fake queens and angry attack dogs from Norwich? Be yourselves and be a Rebel Princess! And Kayla? You may be an attack dog but I’m Hungry Like the Wolfe!”

I turned off the camera as the scene fades.

Torturing him with memories of Leon was a new strategy. The Lost truly was grasping at straws now. The fracture might finally be healing, and for that part of his mind. That part of his soul, that would be terrifying. He couldn’t quite imagine what life would be like, to be whole again. To have total autonomy. To be in control of all faculty, and decision. Part of him wondered if he even really wanted to take that back. To be present all the time. He’d been begging for it, demanding it. Screaming to the heavens to allow him to be with his wife, but maybe. Maybe he didn’t really want that.

Part of it could be the torture had become comfortable. Re-examining the aspects of his life he was shuttering away. Leon’s presence had haunted him once before. A schism happened then too. A complete loss of his own self to a part of him he didn’t know existed. That was likely the real first emergence of The Lost. One that tortured him, himself. Last time it was at the hands of Sullivan and Harrison. He’d asked them to help wipe the memories. Hypnotism. Was he still suffering some lingering effects of letting them in and messing with his mind?

It wasn’t beyond belief. Lots of things have happened to ruin his psyche over the years. The near brain damages the hands of Alexander Remington. The near brain damage at the hands of Jamilyn and Syco. The hypnotism, God knows how many times he’d asked them to do that. If he knew, they wouldn’t have been very good at their job. The complete rupturing and insanity inducing possession of Vita Mors. Mors had kept The Lost out of that little compartment of his mind. For that he was grateful at least.

The truth of it was the descent in madness, the beach that never ended. The lack of warmth, the torture chambers. They felt like they were trying to get him to let it in. To reach back into that which had seen everything and nothing simultaneously. The memories that had threatened to cause his very mind to melt in on itself forever. Just the thought of thinking about what was stored away by Mors made his head burn in pain. A stinging and stabbing sensation in the depths of his mind that he couldn’t quite shake. Agony that he’d never truly recover from.

All of that was to say, the torture with memories of Leon was not unfamiliar. It was something he’d been doing for himself for years. Trying to work out where it had all gone wrong. Where things had changed. What could have led one of his best friends to want to take everything away from him? Alex wasn’t sure he’d ever truly know, but that was the pain he had to suffer through. The indignity of his own mind. One day, he’d put it all behind him. Truly do the work needed not to repress but come to terms. To take back control of his own life. For now, he’d simply suffer. Until things were right again. Until he finally had that control back of himself.

He was being taken on a journey. A journey through a series of memories that he knew would ultimately end in that hallway. With the door at the end, the sound of moans and whimpers coming from the other side. The sounds of betrayal, futility and heartbreak. The faces of two of the people he loved the most, engaged in an activity that would ruin him for years to come. That was the ultimate memory of pain. The one he wanted so desperately to avoid. To never go near again.

Yet Alex knew, this yellow brick road. It did end there, for where else could it end? Endings were all that he was ever sure of. Stories seemed to change a bit, and all good stories had many twists and turns before the true ending. Despite it all though, he was quite good with endings. He could see them now. He had to see them. He had to know how things would end, or he’d go insane. He’d never grow. He needed to know how things would end. So, when the world didn’t play by the rules. He just… didn’t know what to do.

His mother’s death, Lauren’s death, James’ death. These were things he didn’t see coming. Endings he couldn’t quite realise ahead of time. Things that were entirely out of his control. That was probably the worst part of endings he couldn’t see. Things being outside of his control. Things being totally and utterly beyond his hand. Death was the ending he couldn’t see coming, and he knew why. That didn’t make it any better at all. He just couldn’t comprehend anything beyond life. Maybe it was why their ghosts haunted him so.

Today was a different sort of ghost. A different type of torture. He was stuck watching another memory. Chained in place, held in spot. A memory of an encounter Leon and Alex had had when they were younger. An encounter that he never really thought much of. It was just another day of being ratbag kids. Teens with anger issues and poor home lives taking that anger out on the world. Taking their anger out on those around them. To punish those who had no right to simply being happy when they were so unhappy. It was just another day.

---

“There is a lot of excuses thrown around when its convenient for them. A small action ensured the match ended as it needed to. A small action ensured that Carter didn’t have to suffer anymore punishment. To ensure that he was still going to be standing at Inception, so I could finally take the World Championship from him. Narrow-minded as he is, he saw this a slight. A slight against him, and an unfairness. A blindness by the referee cost him and he demands that I not be given my just reward for doing what I needed to do.”

“I laid the terms, and he accepted them. I win; I get my match. I lose; he is free of me. The outcome was not what he wanted, and our favourite little champion threw a fit over it. Screamed to the world that it was unfair, that he was wronged. It is nice of him to be trying to emulate his idols, but I’ve moved beyond that part of my life. I didn’t lull into conspiracies any longer. As much as they would like to believe otherwise. For a man of fairness, I didn’t see him clamouring to my defence when I was the technical rightful winner of my match against Kevin Carter.”

“I didn’t see anyone leaping to my defence in fact. Why would they though? I was only trying to silence the man who they all hated. That had caused them such agony. They just didn’t care because it didn’t affect them personally. Narcissism is the blight and plague the infects those who would pretend to be holier than thou. Something that more and more people are beginning to realise. Alex Jones and Aiden Reynolds both point out your hypocrisy, and you hide behind your belief that you are just doing what you’ve always done.”

“Which is true, he is. Carter has always been an insipid narcissist He spouts hate and vitriol and pretends that it is something positive. He aligns himself with the likes of Miles Kasey and Eddie Lyons. Standing on the right side of things and pretending that it matters. It does not. It doesn’t matter in the slightest. Honour means nothing because none of them truly have it. Are beginning to understand that, Eddie?”

“I need you to look at what is before you and truly understand why I have been telling you for years. You are not fighting on the side of honour. You are not being the bigger man by doing the ‘right’ thing. No, you are simply hamstringing yourself because they are not ideologues like they would lead you to believe. This is not an imaginary and conspiratorial ‘they’ either. No, these ideologues are the people who pretend to have your back just as long as it takes to slip the knife between the vertebrae. They want to see you as a head on a fucking stick, a talking piece for their ideas. To hold down those who are trying to do better. To show the truth of the muck and filth.”

“I am no ideologue in the common sense. I am simply a Broken Messiah, a leader for those who have been torn down by their ideologies. Someone who offers my hand to those who need guidance to a better tomorrow. To an understanding that true selflessness comes in taking your own destiny into your hands. For there is no fate there is simply what you put into the world and what you demand out of it. A narcissism of a different flavour if you will, but there is a difference here. I do not block out the world for my own grandeur. I bring it all with me. I speak into the world the truth of the False Prophecy and they pretend that it does not apply to them.”

“Eddie, for honour you fight and for honour you will fall. They scream at me in defiance for not being honourable, but they only do so because they can no longer control the outcome with it. The lies and the betrayal are in your very eyes and yet you turn from the truth. You hide in your ideas of greatness built on doing it ‘right’. In a world that rewards sycophants and psychopaths. In a world that rewards those that step on others. The only difference between them and me, is that I do not pretend that what I am doing is in the vision of what is right. I know what I do is dishonourable. I know that I disrespect and spit upon the ethics and morals of it all. I do not care that they do not like it. I will drag them up to my level and expose them for the liars and miscreants they are.”

“You’re just another bump on the road for me, Eddie. Time and time again you’ve thrown yourself in the desert looking for a way out. In hopes that this time the circling ravens will not peck and pull at your flesh. That this time things will be different, and yet. They will remain the same. They will not change, Eddie. They cannot change, because you refuse to. I have been to the ends of every extreme. I have been the cheered, the jeered. The anti-hero and the overt villain. I have bled for it all and I would do it again.”

“Even now as my body breaks down and my bones aches. My muscles cry in constant pain and body marred with the scars of my journey. My mind has never been freer. Nothing I say is in mirrors or lies. There is no smoke, there is no pretend. Everything I say is clear as the cleanest bay waters. Filled with beauty and colour that they would seek to murk with their excrement and filth. If you would just listen, you would understand. But the words continue to fall on deaf ears. People like you, Eddie. People who refuse to actually listen. Who like to hide behind this idea that I am trying to twist and turn things. That I speak words that have no meaning, and that it is all a game.”

“None of this is a game to me, Eddie. This is my life. This is what I do to live. To fight, to continue on. To breath into existence everything I do. I bleed for this, because this is what matters to me. To show them the futility of their choices. Carter puts all this idea into the presence of a prop. I took that from him to show him how worthless it truly is. It is a symbol; it is a prop. It is an image to make himself feel better, and yet. He will never truly be the man who deserves to hold it. Just like you Eddie, he cannot be truthful to himself.”

“He cannot be truthful to the world. You are both the same, just at different extremes. One who pretends that it all has to be done on the up and up, and one who preaches that but does not truly follow it. Do you think if the roles were reversed, he’d had have done anything to give me what I deserved? Had he pinned me and my foot ended up on the rope. Do you think he would have let me have my chance still? I don’t. I know he wouldn’t, because he doesn’t truly believe in honour. He just believes in his ideals of lies.”

“You cannot beat me, Eddie. You know this. You know that you will walk into this match, scream to the world that this time it will be different. That this time honour will prevail over me, and then you will fall. You will continue to falter and give in. You will struggle and you will buck, and when it comes to it. You will be another notch in the column for me. My 30th Climax Control win, my 30th singles win here. Two achievements for me, and all I have to do, is put the Lyon down once again. Do you think you can truly stop me? I don’t.”

“I have given you all the tools in the world to prove me wrong. To take the road that you so adamantly refute. The only road that will give you reprieve from the mundanity of your life. From the failures that continue to mount for you. Rise up once more, Little Lion. Rise up once more so I can take your head from your shoulders. So I can put you down again, and you can be reminded. Reminded that you are never going to be at my level. That you have a ceiling made of your own fucking cement. A ceiling you continue to bash your head on, because you refuse to simply take the elevator.”

“I want you to know Eddie. This? This isn’t personal. It’s just fucking business.”

“Have you been paying attention, Eddie? I hope you’ve been listening. I need you to listen.”

“I need you to understand me.”

“We’re all Lost now.”

---

“You know Alex? One of these days, we’re gonna make it fucking big. You, James and me. We’re gonna fucking blow the lid of these places. Just you wait.” Leon said confidently, the straw of his milkshake stuck between his gappy front teeth. He’d never admit it, but he hated the gap. He’d punched out enough kids to make that well and truly know.

They were sitting in some local do a bit of everything café. Milkshakes, average meat pies and sausage rolls, and crappy in house sandwiches. It was a life they wouldn’t trade for anything. At least not at sixteen. Life would change as they grew, and in time they would want more and more. They’d let life ruin them. Let alcohol and drugs change them. Sex and money would be the difference maker, and success. Success would be the be all to end all.

“You wouldn’t fucking know what to do with yourself.” Alex said back, leaning back in his chair, casting a lazy look over the café. Some dude had been staring at them for a while, sitting in a back corner of the room. He was probably just bothered by some loudmouth kids swearing and being generally disruptive. Something you learn with maturity. Sixteen-year-old Alex? Seventeen-year-old Leon? They weren’t mature enough to know that.

“That cunt has been eyeballing us all day. I’m getting fucking sick of it. Oi fuckhead! What’s your problem?” Leon began to yell out at him, the couple of workers behind the counter looking suddenly very irritated. Wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the four of them to cause a scene. A few smashed windows, a few brawls, yelling and shouting battles. They were pretty tired of them. But in a town like this, there wasn’t many smarts in refusing any business.

“Do you think you could watch your mouths? There’s kids here.” The guy said, grumbling as he began to stand up. Clearly done with the whole thing. Preparing to leave, Leon shook his head and glared down his nose at him. The bubbling and boiling. The sense of necessity. The privilege in being allowed to just do whatever they wanted. Leon was going to kick the guy’s head in.

Alex didn’t remember much after that. Just the sounds of sirens, his hands hurting. His knuckles split and the groaning, whimpering man who lay underneath him. Turns out it wasn’t so much Leon was going to it, as he was going to direct traffic. Maybe there was more to that day then he really remembered. Leon did a few years for the attack. Alex didn’t. For some reason they didn’t really believe Alex was the assailant that day. Despite all the physical evidence. Maybe it was more so because if Leon was put away, they’d have just a little less trouble. Ringleader goes down; the troublemakers don’t make as much trouble.

Leon was pulling at his shoulders, telling him hurry up. That they had to run. That they needed to get away. The sound of sirens sounded so close. Like they were in his damn head. The ringing, the bleating. The blaring of sound. It was never ending. Leon had such a big smile that day. Maybe that was the first time he thought he was going to take everything away. Maybe he was proud. Alex would never truly know. It didn’t matter either which way. That was maybe the real start of everything, and he’d never even given it more than a second thought.

He just remembered how much his hands hurt. How much blood there was, from both the guy’s busted up face and his busted-up hands. How much his hands throb and ache. And all he could remember truly from that moment.

How much he enjoyed doing it.

How things never really changed.

And then?

Off-Camera


Office of Seleana Zdunich
Zdunich Zoological Gardens
Los Angeles, California
Tuesday, December 8, 2025
8:04 AM PDT





Seleana Zdunich stares at the paperwork spread across her desk, all of it seemingly having sat there for what seems like years. She stares at the mountain staring back at her, like the abyss looking back into her. As she wonders what to look at, the general manager, Katja Vikström, comes walking in with the head veterinarian, Doctor Michelle "Chavy" Chavez, the two of them just discussing things amongst themselves.

Dr. Michelle "Chavy" Chavez:So you're a cousin of the sister's wife?

Katja nods.

Katja Vikström: Ja, her mother and my father were… em…sib-ling?

Chavy nods.

Dr. Michelle "Chavy" Chavez:Yeah, siblings.

Katja manages a small smile, apparently pleased with herself, satisfied that she had found the proper word.

Katja Vikström: Seleana hire me because I have experience. I run zoo in Sweden.

Chavy looks on with surprise.

Dr. Michelle "Chavy" Chavez:She hired me after I worked at a few places around here in California.

Katja smiles.

Katja Vikström: You have experience as well, ja?

Chavy nods just as the two look at Seleana.

Dr. Michelle "Chavy" Chavez:Uh-oh.

Katja Vikström: Vem skiter i det blå skåpet?

Seleana looks up and shakes her head.

Seleana Zdunich: Mig.

Both Katja and Chavy look at each other before turning their collective gaze back to Seleana.

Dr. Michelle "Chavy" Chavez:What did you do?

Seleana shakes her head and exhales forcefully.

Seleana Zdunich: Nothing yet. I am booked to fight Christina Sunday.

She looks up, despair overpowering everything else.

Seleana Zdunich: I…

Her head droops.

Seleana Zdunich: I do not want Christina to strike me on camera and I do not wish to strike her. I am…

She shakes her head before looking up at her friends.

Seleana Zdunich: I do not know what to do if Aurora or Elijah sees…

Tears form in her eyes.

Seleana Zdunich: They cannot see us fight like this. We are supposed to give them stability, safety, care, not make them fear violence is coming.

Sobs come.

Seleana Zdunich: I don't like fighting her anyway but now it worse. We are their mothers! We…

She shakes her head and almost slaps herself.

Seleana Zdunich: We are supposed to show love… not… fists…

Trailing off, Seleana dissolves into uncontrollable despair, weeping
as the storm of emotions crashes over her like a tsunami bringing destruction ashore and smashing everything in sight.

Seleana Zdunich: I…

Unable to find the words in English, Seleana switches to Swedish.

Seleana Zdunich: Jag kan inte slåss mot henne.

She almost falls apart at the thought of hitting Christina.

Seleana Zdunich: Jag kan inte slåss mot Stjärna. 

Chavy and Katja hurry over to the sobbing woman. Just as they try to think of a response, Seleana's sister and tag team partner walks in.

Zenna Zdunich: Sarabi?

Seleana looks up.

Seleana Zdunich: Jag kan inte slåss mot Stjärna.

Zenna nods.

Zenna Zdunich: Det finns ingen ko på isen.

Seleana looks at her sister, tears still streaming down the blonde woman's face.

Seleana Zdunich: The children… cannot see it, Shenzi.

Zenna raises a hand to calm the elder Zdunich.

Zenna Zdunich: We have Maja's sisters, Katja and the Collective in Hidden Hills to look after them. Things will be sweet as, ja?

Seleana manages a small nod.

Zenna Zdunich: Vi glider in på en räkmacka.

Katja nods her agreement.

Katja Vikström: Ja, we did.

Chavy shakes her head,

Dr. Michelle "Chavy" Chavez:You did what to shrimp?

Zenna and Katja both grin.

Zenna Zdunich: We slid in on a shrimp sandwich.

Katja Vikström: It means we… luck?

Zenna nods.

Zenna Zdunich: Ja.

Chavy shakes her.

Dr. Michelle "Chavy" Chavez:You guys say the strangest shit sometimes.

Seleana nods even as she tries to pull herself together.

Seleana Zdunich: We do.

She draws in a deep breath.

Seleana Zdunich: I just hope we do not expose the children to things…

Zenna smiles.

Zenna Zdunich: Sarabi, you work miracles for them. Do not worry about such things. Kia Kaha.

Seleana nods.

Seleana Zdunich: Ja, Shenzi. I will.