Queenslayers Blog: Victoria Edition
Hotel Room
Tucson, Arizona
Victoria, I’m the Queenslayer. And You’re Just Another Victim.
You’ve been at this long enough to think you know everything, haven’t you, Victoria? You walk around with that crown of yours, with that championship strapped to your shoulder, acting like you’ve earned it, like you’ve proven something. But I see through the charade. You don’t get to call yourself a queen without knowing what real power feels like. And let me tell you something—you’ve never faced anything like me.
I’m not just some wannabe that thinks she can take your title. I’m the Queenslayer. That’s right, Victoria, I’m the one who has stripped the crown from the heads of so-called queens who thought they could reign over me. And you? You were never going to be an exception. You thought you could stand toe-to-toe with me, that you could hold onto your precious throne, but I’ve already seen you crumble. I’ve pushed you to your breaking point before, and what happened then? You failed.
You remember that time, don’t you, when we went to war? When we faced each other in the ring and you finally realized that you weren’t as untouchable as you thought? You saw it in my eyes, the fire that burned behind them. I dragged you to your limit, and you know deep down I could have ended it. The difference between us, Victoria, is that I know how to push people to the absolute brink. I know how to break them. And you? You’ve never been able to handle it.
What you don’t seem to understand is that this isn’t just a rivalry. This isn’t some petty back-and-forth where we’re trading championships. This is me showing you, once and for all, that you are nothing but a pretender. You’ve been living this illusion of power, thinking your reign was solid, thinking you could keep up with someone like me. But here’s the truth: You’ve never been the queen. You were just a placeholder. And I’m the one who will take you down, just like I’ve done with every other queen before you.
Do you remember when you thought you had me beat? You thought you were above it all, that you could break me. But every time you pushed me, I came back stronger. Every time you tried to tear me down, I stood tall. I’ve always been the one to survive when it mattered. That’s why you’ll never be able to hold onto what you have now. Because deep down, you know what I know—you’ll never be able to break me. And you can never outlast me.
Victoria, you’re so blinded by your own ego that you don’t even realize how far I’ve already gone in your mind. I pushed you to the edge once, and that was only the beginning. Now, I’m going to take everything from you, just like I did before. You may still have the title, but I’m the one who’s truly won.
I’ve already shown you what happens when you face the Queenslayer, when you face someone who has been through every battle, every war, every moment of doubt. You can’t break me, and you never will. I’ll leave you lying in the ruins of your own failures, watching as I take what’s mine, because in the end, the throne has always belonged to me.
XOXO,
Alexandra
Storming The Keep
Abandoned Warehouse
Tucson, Arizona
The scene opens in a desolate, ruined warehouse, the remnants of old battles etched into the walls. Flickering lights cast eerie shadows as the camera slowly moves forward, revealing a figure in the center of the room. Alexandra Calaway, draped in a tattered, blood-red coat, sits on a broken throne—one that looks as though it has been pieced together from the wreckage of past wars. Her hands rest on the armrests, her fingers tapping idly as she glares into the camera, her dark eyes burning with unrelenting fury.
"Victoria, Victoria, Victoria... You speak of inevitability as if the script has already been written, as if my fate is to be nothing more than a cautionary tale in the grand story of your reign. How adorably naive."
She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees, tilting her head slightly, a sinister smirk playing on her lips.
"I watched your little display of arrogance. I saw you standing amongst the burning remnants of those who stood before you, basking in the flames like some self-proclaimed deity. I heard every single word, every condescending declaration of your supposed supremacy. You want to talk about history, Victoria? Then let me remind you exactly who I am."
Alexandra slowly rises to her feet, her movements deliberate, her aura growing darker.
"You say it began with me, that I am the curse that refuses to be broken. Well, allow me to confirm your worst fears—I am your goddamn reckoning. The curse you thought you could erase has only festered, evolved into something far more insidious. I am not a ghost lingering in your shadow; I am the nightmare that will rip your world apart piece by piece."
She steps forward, the old wooden floor creaking beneath her boots. Behind her, something stirs in the darkness—a row of shattered mirrors reflecting distorted images of Alexandra, each one whispering fragments of madness.
"You call yourself a queen, draping yourself in self-importance, clutching that title like a lifeline, but tell me, Victoria—what happens when that lifeline is severed? What happens when the walls of your empire crumble, when the weight of your arrogance finally buries you? You call me a desperate woman trying to rewrite her failures? No, Victoria. I am a force of nature, a storm that does not cease until everything in its path is reduced to nothing. You may think you've won this war before, but you have never faced me like this. You have never faced me when I have nothing left to lose and everything to take."
A low, humorless chuckle escaped her lips as she drags a hand through her dark hair, eyes filled with pure, unfiltered malice.
"Your words reek of fear, Victoria. You dress it up in bravado, in proclamations of dominance, but I see it. I feel it. That little crack in your perfect, golden reign. You speak of me as if I am beneath you, yet I am the one standing in your mind, rent-free, poisoning every ounce of your confidence. You want to paint me as a dog chasing something that was never mine? Oh, sweetheart, you are mistaken. I was never chasing—I was biding my time, watching, waiting."
She stops in front of a rusted metal table, where a cracked hourglass sits. Slowly, deliberately, she turns it over, watching the grains of sand spill downward.
"Time is running out, Victoria. For all your speeches, for all your desperate attempts to carve your name into history, the truth remains—you are not untouchable. No queen is. Thrones are built on the bones of those who came before, and yours is looking awfully fragile. You think I can’t handle the weight of that championship? Oh, but I can. And when I take it from you, when I hold it above your broken body, you will finally understand what it means to be truly powerless."
Alexandra’s expression darkens, her eyes gleaming with something unholy.
"And make no mistake, I am not just here to take your crown, Victoria. I am here to defile it. To strip it of its meaning. I will burn your throne to the ground and from its ashes, I will forge something far greater—a legacy carved in agony, a reign baptized in blood."
She breathes in deeply, as if savoring the tension in the air, as if the very thought of destruction fuels her.
"Do you remember what it felt like when you first realized you were afraid of me, Victoria? Not just wary. Not just cautious. But afraid. When the whispers in the back of your mind started eating away at your self-assurance? That moment when you saw me for what I truly am—not an opponent, but a force you cannot contain?"
She runs her fingers along the jagged edges of the shattered hourglass, a bead of crimson forming where the glass bites into her skin. She grins.
"You see, I don’t need to take your crown, Victoria. I just need to make sure you never wear it again. I will take your confidence, your belief in your own invincibility. I will peel back the layers of your arrogance, expose the raw, shaking woman underneath, and when you look in the mirror, you won’t see a queen anymore. You will see a broken fraud who was too blind to know when the end had come."
Alexandra grabs the hourglass and with a sudden, violent motion, smashes it against the table, shards flying in all directions. She steps over the broken pieces, her boots crunching against the glass as she moves closer to the camera.
"You wanted a war? You got one. But this time, there are no rules, no limits, no mercy. You talk about a dynasty, about an unbreakable bond with your brother—well, I have no such ties holding me back. I am unhinged, unleashed, and there is nothing in this world more dangerous than a woman with nothing left to fear. You may call yourself a queen, but I am the executioner, and I have come to collect my due."
She extends her arms slightly, as if embracing the chaos surrounding her.
"So go ahead, Victoria. Keep convincing yourself that your reign is untouchable. Keep adjusting your little crown and whispering sweet nothings to your championship. Because at Blaze of Glory, when the dust settles and the flames die out, there will be no Queen Victoria. There will be no grand legacy. There will only be me, standing above you, the last thing you see before everything fades to black."
She smirks, stepping back into the shadows, her voice a haunting whisper as the screen fades to darkness.
"Long live the fallen queen."
The feed abruptly cuts to black, leaving only the sound of glass crunching beneath her boots. Alexandra's voice lingers even in the darkness, a haunting echo that refuses to be silenced. Her presence is a storm that looms over the battlefield, promising destruction with every passing second. The war is coming, and there will be no prisoners. The stage is set, and when the final curtain falls, only one will be left standing. And Alexandra Calaway intends for it to be her.
Sharing in Troubles
Hotel Room
Tucson, Arizona
The sun was beginning to set over Tucson, casting a warm glow that bathed the city in hues of gold, orange, and soft purple. From the balcony of their hotel room, LJ could see the distant mountains, the desert landscape stretching out in the fading light. The quiet hum of the city below felt like a distant echo, a stark contrast to the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind.
He leaned against the railing, staring out into the horizon, trying to push away the anxiety gnawing at him. The show they were here for was just around the corner, yet his thoughts were a million miles away—on Miles, on Kevin, and the search that had taken them across state lines and deep into the heart of uncertainty.
Behind him, the sliding door creaked open, and the soft scent of lavender mixed with the cool desert air. Alexandra stepped outside, her silhouette framed by the last rays of the sun. She walked over to him, her presence steady and calming. For a moment, neither of them spoke. They both just stood there, watching the sun sink lower.
Finally, Alexandra broke the silence, her voice gentle but firm. “You’ve been out here for a while. Miles still hasn’t called?”
LJ exhaled slowly, his fingers curling around the cool metal of the railing. “No. We’ve got nothing. Vegas was a dead end, and now… well, L.A. wasn’t much better. We’re chasing shadows. Kevin could be anywhere.”
She stepped closer, her arm brushing against his as she leaned over the railing beside him, her gaze following his across the city. “And you’re feeling like you’re running out of time?”
LJ didn’t have to answer. The question hung between them, a silent acknowledgment of the weight pressing down on him. He was doing everything he could—everything he and Miles had been doing for weeks—but it never felt like enough. Not when the stakes were this high. Not when a kid who didn’t deserve any of this was out there, lost and alone.
“I don’t know what else to do, love,” he confessed, his voice low. “I keep thinking we’re close, but then we hit a wall. Everyone we’ve talked to, they just keep saying Kevin’s gone, but we don’t know where to go next. And I’m scared, Alex. What if we don’t find him in time? What if something happens to him before we can get to him?”
Alexandra turned her head slightly, her eyes soft but intense, looking at him like she could see straight through the armor he’d built up. Her hand reached out, a quiet gesture that spoke volumes. Her fingers lightly brushed his arm, and it was enough to make him breathe a little easier, just knowing she was there.
“You’re doing everything you can,” she said, her voice unwavering. “You’ve been relentless. And it’s not just about finding Kevin. It’s about showing him that there’s still someone who cares, someone who wants to help him.”
LJ nodded, swallowing hard. “But what if it’s not enough?” he murmured, the doubt seeping through despite his best efforts to push it back.
She stepped in closer, her presence a steadying force. “You don’t get to decide what’s enough, LJ. You’re doing the best you can, and that’s what matters. You’re not giving up on him, Miles isn’t giving up on him, and that means more than you know. You’ve been there for Miles. You’ve been there for me. And you’re showing everyone around you that there’s still hope, even when it feels like everything’s falling apart.”
Her words settled into his chest, the pressure of his worries easing just a fraction. She was right. He couldn’t control everything—couldn’t predict the outcome—but he could keep fighting, keep searching, and keep showing up for the people who needed him most.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Angel,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know how I’d keep going through all of this if you weren’t here with me.”
Alexandra looked up at him, her expression soft, her eyes meeting his with an honesty that cut straight to his heart. “And you never will have to find out. We’re in this together, no matter what. You’re not alone in this, LJ. Miles isn’t alone in this.”
The sunset continued to paint the sky above them, the colors shifting and deepening with every passing minute. For the first time in a while, LJ felt a sense of calm. The world outside was still uncertain, the future still unclear, but he wasn’t alone. Not anymore.
He turned to face her fully now, his hand gently touching her arm. “I know you’ve got my back. I just… I just wish I could help fix it. Fix everything. This is really getting to Miles”
“You’re already doing more than enough,” she replied, her hand brushing his with a tenderness that melted some of the tension in his chest. “And we’ll keep doing it together. We’ll find Kevin, LJ. I know we will. It might take all of us in the end.”
LJ stared at her for a long moment, taking in the sincerity in her eyes, the strength in her voice. She believed in him. She believed in them. And that belief was enough to push the lingering doubt out of his mind, if only for tonight.
“I needed to hear that,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I don’t know if I’ve said it enough, but I’m really thankful for you. For everything you’ve done. I mean it, I couldn’t have gotten this far without you.”
Alexandra smiled, a soft curve of her lips. “You don’t have to say it. But I’m glad you did.”
They stood there in silence for a moment, the air cooling as the last rays of sun slipped away. Tucson’s streets twinkled below them, and for the first time all day, LJ felt a flicker of hope. It wasn’t over yet. They still had time. And with Alexandra by his side, he could face whatever came next.
“Alright,” he said, his voice steady again. “We’re gonna find him. We’re not stopping until we do.” He wraps his arms around his girlfriend, the two sharing a kiss, before he pressed his forehead to hers.
“That’s the spirit,” Alexandra replied, her smile brightening. “And remember, we’re in this together. Just like we will be at Blaze of Glory.”
With the cool night air settling around them, they stood side by side, looking out at the sprawling city below, the promise of a new day—and a new chance to find Kevin—hanging just beyond the horizon.
Ending the Reign
Undisclosed Location
Tucson, Arizona
The screen is black.
No sound. No movement. No life. Just empty, suffocating darkness. The kind of dark that pulls at something primal inside. The kind of dark that isn’t just an absence of light—it’s a presence. A weight. A watching thing. A sharp inhale cuts through the silence. Slow. Ragged. Controlled—but barely.
Then, a flicker. A single candle ignites, casting long, trembling shadows against a cold, unseen surface. The light is weak, desperate, barely holding on against the pressing void.
And then, from the depths of that suffocating blackness—she appears.
Alexandra Calaway.
She sits in the half-light, the glow licking at her face, catching the sharp angles of her features. Her eyes glisten in the fire’s reflection—dark pools of something unreadable, something dangerous. Her fingers stretch toward the flame, hovering just above it. The flickering light dances against her skin, but she doesn’t flinch. She lets it kiss her, lets it burn just enough to feel.
Her lips curl into a smirk—but it’s cold. Humorless. Almost… amused.
“Long live the queen.”
Her voice is a whisper. Mocking. The words drip from her tongue like poisoned honey.
“You sit on your little throne, Victoria. You hold your crown. You clutch your championship so tightly that your hands shake. And yet… I wonder…”
She leans forward, her face half-illuminated by the trembling flame.
“…does it feel as heavy as you claim? Or is it just the weight of your fear pressing down on you?”
She exhales, a slow, deliberate breath.
“You talk about suffering. About sacrifice. You scream into the void, demanding to be heard, demanding that the world recognize the blood you’ve spilled. But here’s the thing, Victoria…”
Her eyes darken. The smirk fades.
“I. Don’t. Care. What have you really sacrificed for that championship? Other than your dignity of course? Nothing. The only person who has ever pushed you to your breaking point when it comes to that title is me. Yet you claim I’m nothing, that I’m beneath you. You may not have come outright and said it, but it was implied.”
The flame trembles, as if reacting to the venom in her voice.
“I didn’t come here to listen to your sob story. I didn’t come here to acknowledge your ‘greatness.’ And I damn sure didn’t come here to bow. You want to talk about pain? About legacy? About what it takes to stay on top?”
Her fingers twitch. The candle’s flame flickers wildly.
“You don’t know the first thing about suffering.”
A pause. The silence stretches, thick and suffocating.
“You think this is about a throne? That throne of yours was a crutch.” she asks, her voice dripping with mock disbelief. “You think I burned your precious symbol of power just for the fun of it?”
The smirk returns, cruel and sharp.
“…You’re right.”
A chuckle escapes her lips—low, dark, almost… delighted.
“I burned it because I could. Because I wanted to see what would happen when the false queen was stripped of her illusion. And what did I find?”
Her voice drops to a whisper, eyes locking onto the camera with an unnatural intensity.
“A pathetic little girl. Desperate. Spiraling. Flailing in the dark, gasping for control that was never really hers to begin with.”
She tilts her head, her gaze never wavering.
“And now, you’re afraid, aren’t you? You won’t say it out loud—you’re too proud for that—but I can feel it.” She breathes in deeply, as if savoring the scent of fear. “It’s in the way your voice shakes beneath all that rage. In the way you repeat yourself, as if saying the words over and over again will make them real. ‘I’m still the queen. I’m still the champion. I’m still the best.’”
She chuckles again, softer this time.
“But we both know the truth, don’t we?”
A long pause. The fire between her fingers flickers dangerously.
“You are already dead, Victoria.”
The words are barely above a whisper, but they echo in the silence like a curse.
She watches the candle for a moment longer, then—without hesitation—snuffs it out with her fingertips. The screen plunges into darkness once more.
But her voice remains.
“You want to break me?” A laugh—low, dark, dripping with something wicked. “Bitch, I was broken long before you ever knew my name.”
The darkness lingers. The silence stretches. And then—
A single sound.
The crackling of flames.
Soft at first, then growing, consuming, devouring.
And through the fire, through the endless abyss, comes the a whisper:
"Burn, little queen. Burn."
The camera flickers to life, the grainy footage revealing the empty, cold expanse of an abandoned warehouse. Dust lingers in the stale air, the silence heavy and oppressive, broken only by the faint echo of footsteps across the cracked floor.
In the dim light, Alexandra appears. Her silhouette is sharp against the decaying walls, the harsh lines of her figure as unmistakable as the fire in her eyes. She’s alone, but she doesn’t need anyone else. She stands still, her hands loosely clasped, her head tilted as she listens to Victoria’s venomous words reverberating through her mind.
A slow smile creeps onto Alexandra’s face, one that doesn’t reach her eyes, which remains cold and calculating. The sound of a match striking against its box breaks the silence, the tiny flame flickering to life before she inhales deeply, letting the smoke curl around her fingers.
"Victoria," she says softly, her voice almost playful, as though she’s savoring the taste of the name, but it’s laced with something dangerous. "Did you think I’d be afraid? That I’d crumble under your threats? You seem to forget that I am the one who pushed you to your limits last time."
The sound of the match being extinguished echoes in the vast space around her as Alexandra throws it to the floor. She steps away from the small fire she’s started, leaving it to flicker in the shadows, symbolizing the very destruction Victoria has promised.
"That crown you cling to so desperately? The one you think defines you? It means nothing to me. You’re right about one thing though..." Her smile grows, darker, sharper. "You did steal something from me. But it’s not what you think."
Her voice lowers, a chilling quietness creeping in.
"You stole the illusion of your own power, Victoria. You took from me the one thing that made you feel untouchable. But you can’t possess what doesn’t belong to you. And now... now you’re going to learn that lesson the hard way."
She pauses, the flickering lights casting long shadows across her face. Her eyes narrow, fixated on something unseen, as though the very thought of Victoria has already begun to unravel her.
"You’re trying to burn me, trying to tear down everything I’ve built? You think I’m going to be consumed by your flames?"
A soft laugh escapes her, bitter and full of disbelief.
"Sweetheart, you’ve got it all wrong. You’ve only given me more fuel."
She steps forward, her boots crunching over the debris, the silence hanging heavily in the air.
"I’m not the one who’s going to burn, Victoria." Her voice drops to a whisper, as if she’s savoring the moment.
"You are."
The camera lingers on her eyes, cold as ice, before the screen fades to black, the sound of flames crackling in the distance.