Author Topic: Amber Ryan v Roxi Johnson - Last Woman Standing  (Read 2009 times)

Offline SCW Staff

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Amber Ryan v Roxi Johnson - Last Woman Standing
« on: November 08, 2020, 02:36:02 PM »
Post all roleplays for this match here.

Limits: One roleplay per week, 10,000 words max.

Good luck!

Offline DistortedAngel

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... Sin City Noir II: A Mistake In Martyrdom ... (Part #1)
« Reply #1 on: November 13, 2020, 12:02:42 PM »
Note: This is a return to the fantasy/parody/fictional universe and everyone featured/spoken about etc etc is a likeness. Characters handlers have been informed and asked if their likeness could be used in advance <3

Hope you enjoy :)





“In contrast to your usual minions, I imagine, I’m a bit more awed by your conceit and arrogance than I am by your supposed magnificence.”
― Caitlin Crews, The Replacement Wife






Prologue:



“You’d think I’d have taken enough ass kickings in my time to get how this works.

I should have long since smartened up to the way things operate and accept the status quo for what it is and what I’m told it's supposed to be. ‘Things don’t just change Red’, that's what I keep hearing, the world won’t shift from it's comfortable place cause you make an impassioned speech from a rooftop to a crowd who’d rather just see you jump.

Maybe for them, next time I will.

You know, switch it up. Be unpredictable- besides no one ever said ‘jump’ thinking that they’d actually go through with it.

Yeah, that’ll teach them.

That's the beautifully weird thing about all of this expectation- the world just wants to see you go splat, everyone is so optimistically pessimistic, enthused beyond belief just waiting with bated breath for the worst case scenario. Bloodthirsty, macabre and delighted with misery cause it's a form of emotional masturbation that society only minorly frowns upon in public.
Sure, society doesn’t think they want it- but show disaster on the horizon and they froth at the fucking mouth for it's arrival, that catastrophe hard on is hard-wired into the human psyche so deep they’re like a dog chasing cars.

Once it hits, no one has a damn clue what to do with it.
 
Maybe it's why we find ourselves fascinated with the outliers- drawn to the freaks and nefarious, condemned for difference but admired and studied with a passion cause it's not another vanilla nothing, We demand to see the worst cause it makes us feel better about who we are and what we stand for- so long as there is someone out there doing worse than you, you can sleep easy. Sleep soundly. Sleep with one eye open cause disaster doesn’t like to wait patiently on the doorstep and absolutely won’t wipe it's shoes.

Heroes. Villains. They fulfil the same role- something different, something to be gazed upon from a distance cause up close, they are as trite and boring as those who dedicate themselves to their cause. Society would throw itself under a proverbial bus if it thought a hero could save them, just in the same way that in the midst of disaster a villain sits proudly upon the throne of blame regardless whether their actions had consequence or not.
Aberrations justify the existence of everyone else, they give a reason to strive cause infamy is a far better route than fading into peaceful irrelevance six feet beneath an insincerely complementary stone.
Good guys. Bad guys. Guys who just wanna feel something…

There isn’t a damn difference no matter which way you slice it, all that changes is the way you describe them.

Cast a light on anyone and their flaws get masked behind fluorescence and facade, anyone can catch some shine and pick their highlights while everything else gets swept under the rug cause the narrative flow doesn’t leave room for truth. Turn all the lights off and everyone looks the same- you can’t tell apart a knife and a flower in the dark, our actions and reactions don’t simply morph in the presence of a spotlight.
We’re still the same whether the Hero believes it or not, to be honest though I’m done with the fairytales and the posturing in front of the masses in hopes that their adoration might seal the cracks forming, disguise those chinks in the armour that can no longer be ignored.

See, that's my problem with Heroes around here- they want everything with no strings attached. Consequences don’t look as good as happy ending in ink and imagination- you’d rather see the prince vanquish the dragon than be mercifully swallowed whole. They do good, so they think no residual effects apply- the blood is still on their hands though, regardless how well they think they might have washed them.
Also, all that blood can’t possibly be hygienic during a pandemic- it's okay though because by the time I’m done this time around-  I’ll happily donate everything the Hero has got left to the blood bank.

I just hope they won’t question why it's arriving in a poorly maintained bucket.

… Again.”






******



Part 1: Blood and Glitter



Downtown Sin City
Sin City
27.09.2020
9:56pm



Blood and glitter.

God, it was fucking everywhere.

Although at this point that thought could have pertained to the puddled crimson that had quickly pooled  around her fingers as she crawled across tarmac or the glitter that clung to her skin, that scraped at her eyeballs and made her gag as with every forced breath. Red found herself vaguely aware of the sound of passing cars- she could smell the heady exhaust yet the sound… it seemed too far away to make sense.

Nothing made sense.

Those walls of the Heroes glass house she’d brought to siege, the ones she’d swore she’d tear down just to prove that she could- well, now they had now crashed down on her head. Maybe it was inevitable, that karma had finally accepted enough of her nonsense and kicked her squarely through the scattered remains of her pride.
She could hear the Hero behind her- bloodied, breathing heavily but very much alive. Very much in better shape than the redhead straying closer towards traffic- maybe if the Hero followed she might…

“Enough is enough.”

Red forced a chuckle as the footsteps ceased in her wake. Heroes in this stupid place never seemed to learn- it was never going to be enough, not while they both had air in their lungs and a pulse racing through their bodies.Promises had been made and left unfulfilled, words spoken hadn’t been addressed with fists and firepower- there was still so much left on the table and yet both of them were walking away woefully unsated.
Still, the Hero seemed to think this all meant something… that victory in the face of defeat changed the battlefield to anything more than just more bloodsoaked.

Just a little closer, she could smell the metal now. Rust in the humidity had a peculiar scent, something that permeated the very bitumen that she tried to grip her nails into in vain. Coppery but without the charged tang, damp and musty but without the benefit of age and mildew.

Closer Hero. Take another step Hero. Just a couple more and we can walk through hell together for eternity, isn’t that what you want?

Red spat noisily into the street- blood stained just like everything else seemed to be through the mask of scarlet and obscene shimmer, cars slowed or maybe that was her vision blurring further and her equilibrium taking an unnecessary bump inside her skull.
She never saw the impact coming- something sending her tumbling back towards the pavement, rattled and disoriented halfway on the sidewalk and the rest sprawling into the street like her limbs declared a goddamn mutiny on the spot.

Weirdly enough though, as her vision darkened from the outside in, she found herself almost deliriously amused to the point of gurgling laughter- it wasn’t because of the looming figure of a disappointed Hero, one Red knew would never finish things definitively. Nor was it the way that the gathering storm clouds threatened to drown her in the gutters for her hubris- no... what truly seemed funnier than it had any right to be was an unassuming box, it's inside saturated with a thick layer of cheap glitter and the remains of a broken mechanism she knew deep down she’d seen before.

“You’re not in my head anymore, Red. You don’t get to own that part of me…”

Perhaps Red was initially wrong, that… that seemed to be far and away the funniest concept of all. Chess, after all, by design wasn’t just played between the queens despite their importance to the board- however until now, the other pieces had been kept out of the crossfire of their continued power struggle.
White knights though, white knights could never stay the fuck out of the way- determined to insert themselves wherever they might see fit, they always seemed surprised to fall so quickly to the black queen rampaging across the board.

As the darkness encroached on her vision and the sparkle of tawdry glitter nothings dulled, Red’s gurgling laughter slowly died in her throat while the rain… the rain began to slowly fall, somehow the Black Queen shifting to F10 never seemed so fucking appropriate.




******



“I like to think I’m a woman of my word.

Maybe it doesn’t mean a lot to very many people, maybe my word doesn’t fill people with a sense of warmth and hope, maybe what my word stands for has been dragged a little further through the mud than I first realized despite the fact I haven’t given reason yet for it to be questioned otherwise.
I made promises Hero, I made promises and I kept them- whereas every second sentence you spew is filled with half truths and disingenuous, backhanded compliments.

I’m a woman of honour and decency, yet persecuted cause I’m willing to stare down the supposed ‘good guys’ and tell them to step off their high horses to come wade through the neck high muck. Everything I’ve done, everything I plan to do- it's for a reason, maybe I get a little hot under the collar and my temper flares like the edges of the sun however there is method to madness- and while you only choose to see the chaos, I can assure you what lies beneath is far more terrifying.

Tell me oh, hero… Sweet, wonderful hero…

What happened to you?

This was supposed to be ours and ours alone- when I came to Sin City, I only ever had eyes for you. You were to be the greatest of triumphs and the sweetest of victories, you were supposed to be the one I could show the world as an example… Good and evil are constructs and you were to be the masterstroke.
It was our world, our war… You oppose me cause you think I’m no good, cause I came in and backed up every goddamn claim I’ve made- only proving you to be half the woman and less of the hero you were portraying yourself as. You oppose me cause I represent everything that this place is supposed to embody rather than the dollar store version cause evolution and ever better means more work, more effort… More... hero.

I lived up to everything you thought and more- brought the house of cards you so carefully constructed down around you, you stepped up against me and fell short. No harm, you weren’t the first of your kind and nor will you be the last…
There are ten thousands versions of you out there, each one doing it better than the last- and all of them falling by the wayside when they realize heroism is a dying art. This isn’t a heroes place and time, theres no line to cross or definitive shade between dark and light- I keep adapting and evolving, while you’re still playing the same song and dance cause you get called a fucking sell out if you change.

It was supposed to be you and me till the end.

You, and you alone ruined that for me.

Of course you’ll act as though you didn’t have a choice- that help accepted doesn’t bring them closer within the blast radius, you’ll justify that you didn’t need it and that you could have done the same without. As if anyone with two brain cells left to rub together doesn’t see the truth for what it really is.
Theres blood all over your hands Hero, and covering them with glitter doesn’t fucking change the fact it's still someone elses blood, that it's your fault and yours alone that it won’t simply wash off cause you really just meant well.
What happens next- you can’t shift that blame, you can’t deflect or defame. Always the goddamn fucking hero determined to have someone to save- lets all just forget the fact though, that they need saving cause you put them in the path of a freight train to begin with.

Fact is, you absolutely could have said no… Remember that Hero, you could have told everyone to step off, to stay far away and instead you walked them straight to the core as it went fucking critical.

I just hope in time you can forgive yourself for what I’m willing to do, for what you’ve brought down upon those you were so willing to allow to step into a game that had no place for them- and as we stand on the precipice, at our Reichenbach Falls of good intentions… You’re going to stand there and tell me I’m wrong.
That you’d change nothing, that I’m to be held responsible and judged for all that comes to pass- but we both know you’re a goddamn liar desperately trying to save face one more time.

On the edge of oblivion- I’ll make you one last promise on everything I’ve got left to swear on, if I go down… You come with me. Your name, by the time I’m done will mean less than the dirt I scrape off my shoes, less than the exhale of breath that might carry your name.
Maybe I tarnish my own legacy, maybe everything I’ve done will mean nothing once stained with the taint of your fallen status- but I’ll go down happy. Happy that I kept my word till the end, happy that I never compromised in the face of a society who’d rather bury it's head in the sand than accept it's heroes for what they truly are…

Saboteurs. Liars. Martyrs.

Just know this Hero, for what it's worth, I never wanted things to go this far, but now…

Now it seems like it's the only direction I’ve got left to go.




******



Part 2: The Good Doctor



Good Doctors Clinic
Somewhere on the outskirts of Sin City
11:24pm
04.10.2020



To do no harm.

Doctors swore to that nonsense.

Granted, Red was no doctor, no practitioner of medicinal arts- whether it be body, mind, spirit or otherwise. Hell, the basis of her familiarity with anatomy and what made people tick was her experiences pulling them apart to get a peek inside. Mostly though, they wouldn’t continue ticking away for very long at that point, and frankly everyone got far less interesting once they started to go rigid and cold.
She had no basis to presume the potential difficulties that might come from having to refrain from simply punching people in the face to check if they’d actually gone numb, no place to dictate where healing and hurting stopped for the other to begin.
It was supposed to be a place of good, but it just made Red all kinds of bitter.

Getting in wasn’t the issue, with nothing of importance to steal there was little in place to stop midnight wanderers looking for a quick peek behind the proverbial curtain.Here was a place where fractured minds were supposedly mended, where psyches were examined and deemed worth saving from themselves- no doubt the Good Doctor would have loved an hour alone with Red, if they both didn’t wholeheartedly believe it’d end in a fucking bloodbath of course.
No, the office was as sparse and bland as one might expect from the person inhabiting it- too many accolades plastered across walls, doctorates and abbreviated titles stacked like jenga on a name to the point reading it aloud was akin to teaching a child the alphabet.

They’d had their history, their battles legendary in other cities- fixtures and foundations in the people they became in the wake of it. Now, as per what felt as though the norm, the Good Doctor couldn’t leave well enough alone- she didn’t trust that the Hero could stand up to Red alone, worried for the safety of one of her wards especially knowing Red better than most others.
The Good Doctor didn’t give a shit about Red, she only cared that the Hero kept coming back home. Admirable, but entirely short-sighted.

Red’s footsteps echoed loudly across wooden floorboards, her heavy riding boots like thunder amid the pattering rain outside. She wasn’t trying to hide her presence as though anyone else walked this place when the sun went down, besides the Hero had made her choice and now the consequences would come calling for all.
God, it would have been easy to simply raze this place to the ground. Destroy a life's work purely out of spite, it wasn’t exactly out of character for Red, she’d done far worse with far less motivation. It’d be so goddamn easy, she could see the look on all their faces- especially the realization from the Hero that consequences affected her too… That she wasn’t immune simply cause she might not have initially loaded the bullet into the chamber.

Even now, in the faint light streaming through the window from the streetlight outside, Red couldn't hide her disgust at the whole situation. It was supposed to be just them- adversaries locked into combat, rivals in blood and battle, it was supposed to be fucking poetic.

It was a damn shame only one of them seemed to hold that view.

Pulling out the top desk drawer, paper rustled and a pen rolled forward, bumping against the front edge- shorthand client notes maybe, too many big words in that fabled doctors scrawl not worth deciphering. Red rummaged inside her jacket, her fingers lacing carefully around pieces of a familiar box- some of which still heavily encrusted with dried glitter tumbling from jagged edges.
Red had briefly considered leaving it whole, refixing the mechanism and setting the trap as it had once already- however rage and disappointment ruled the day and she slammed her foot through the godforsaken thing in the middle of the dying street.

Scattering them across the desktop, glitter tumbled and diffused across papers like a shiny dandruff determined to cling to every surface, winking obscenely as each speck captured the dim light. Perhaps Red could have stopped there, a message sent and received in kind…
However the Hero, the Hero would never suffice for such a display- the Good Doctor would go running, warning the Hero of something dark impending and the Hero, the Hero would shrug and say it could be handled alone… Cause that's just what heroes did.

No, the Hero deserved something far more… Even if she had continuously failed to reciprocate in kind.

Rummaging again, Red’s hand closed around a small bag… Soft, malleable, fluid filled. Light failed to capture the true nature of the scarlet hue and the shiny flecks caught in its embrace nor did it capture it's viscous nature staining the edges where it had sloshed and jostled.
It wasn’t a lot, but for something like this…  it didn’t need to be.
Gently, almost lovingly, Red placed the bag down in the desk draw- positioned deliberately and centred before taking up the pen. Rolling it in her hand for a moment, she gauged the weight and quality- a gift most probably, professional and yet aloof- before driving the pen through the baggie and slamming the desk drawer closed.
Pausing, Red waited a few moments in the silence- waiting for the tell tale… *drip* *drip* *drip* of liquid puddling on a wooden floor. It’d be hours before anyone found it, Red mused silently, and by then the thick, metallic malodor will have started to permeate the room…

There was something to be said for ‘bad blood’.

Bad blood for a good doctor?

Seemed rather fitting.





******



“At no point had I ever wished I was more wrong than when I saw that box.

It's a weird feeling Hero, not sure you’d ever understand it because you’ve never been wrong about a damn thing in your life- surrounded by blind loyalty and support, must be a wonderful thing to ride that constant high. Maybe that's why you won’t do your worst… Heaven forbid you erase the only person keeping you tethered to this godforsaken place, the one that grounds you when everyone just wants to continually blow smoke up your ass.

Tell me though, hero to hero.

Was she itching to help?

Desperately trying to keep you safe, bring you home to that darling family of yours… I could have walked in her house and ripped her to shreds Hero… Maybe you might even pretend to be sorry about it- but instead… I want her to live to see you fail, to see everything she’s done to try and keep your head above water, fail. To see everything she’s worked for- turn out to mean absolutely nothing.

I mean, you surely didn’t think I wouldn’t put two and two together and get one giant middle finger, that I wouldn’t smell a rat as it decayed at our feet… I have no doubt that she’s still a little salty about her track record against me. About those losses she’s taken- and while I won’t deny mine to her, it's been long enough and I’ve been a big enough person to put such trivial things to rest.
Some of us though, we can’t let sleeping dogs lie… We kick at the mutt and wonder why we get bit, roll through their business and wonder why we’re covered in fleas- I never claimed to be more than a mongrel, yet you still wanna put off getting that rabies shot.
This was never about her- she had nothing to do with this until you invited her business. You realized you don’t get to walk away without a proverbial ace up your sleeve- I wish I could commend you on your ingenuity Hero… but it's not even your handiwork that beat me.

You capitalized, sure. However the reason… It's not cause you were any better than you were before. It's cause you saw the writing on the wall and tried to white wash it.
To say YOU bested me… Huh, that's not entirely accurate- is it?
It's real easy to call me out as an opportunist, that I pick my spots and seize on the advantage when it presents itself- you frown upon such things, such hypocrisy should see you turned to anti-matter Hero.
As if we aren’t already used to it.

Our rules of engagement never changed- you went searching for loopholes and now you find yourself stuck cause I’m calling you on your bullshit.

Glitter. God I fucking hate the stuff.

See, it's like shitty internet opinions- it gets everywhere, you can’t get rid of it. It's like swamp water or the distinct notion that you’re about to die. It's a constant reminder that you done fucked up kiddies, tacky and distracting like the person who wields it.
That being said- the good doctor has always known where to find me, however you act as the conduit to her frustrations. Living vicariously through someone else- did she tell you I was dangerous, that I’m a psychopath despite the fact she wouldn’t know how to diagnose one if I scored perfect in PCL-R, or maybe she told you I’m human and very beatable under the right blue moon.

Lock in option D cause I’m all that and a bag of chips.

I’m everything you ever thought, ever hated, ever stood against cause it flies in the face of your self-serving hypocrisy. I’m that hyper-realistic nightmare you keep having, so deeply ingrained into your psyche Hero that you couldn’t dig me out if you tried.
Don’t think I’m not encouraging it- cause we all know a good old fashioned lobotomy can just excuse another utterly disappointing performance- right?
Eventually I’d like to think you’d start feeling bad about this- all the bluster, the mission statements and good intentions being thrown in my face as you once again woefully underestimate my willingness to put you in the fucking ground simply to prove I can.
Heroes embrace that ‘blaze of glory’ but you wasted yours long before I walked through your door and set your house alight- now, you’re walking through my wake scraping up embers in hopes of rekindling a spark. Really at this point you’ll do anything to warm the cockles cause that do-gooder attitude and farcical heroics in the face of a living nightmare just aren’t doing enough to keep you from freezing at night.

Maybe this is the point you start questioning why I’m doing this- why everyone else is suddenly a target and the fact is… You opened this door, so don’t think you get to just stand by and question why I’m walking right on through.
YOU, Hero, you made them all fair game… Everyone you care about, everyone who blindly follows your lead, everyone you’ve ever said a kind word to- hell, I’ll go down to your local grocery store and kick the cashier right between the uprights just cause he smiled at you when you bought some avocados.
Why?
Cause I want you to understand, I wanna see you squirm and I wanna trigger you in the worst way…

I’ve given you far too much, and you’ve given me almost nothing in return- this is a dance for two, and I’m tired of feeling cut in on cause your entourage thinks you need a little help with your two-step.
After all, two left feet are only a bad thing when you’re holding someone else's dismembered leg.

Blood and glitter hero.

Bring it all, bring the dirty little tricks you swear you have no knowledge off… Mess with the lights like I’m scared of the dark, bring a goddamn army at your back cause I’ve heard a bloodbath is fantastic for the skin. I heard you got a thing for magic and the illusion of choice- well I’ve got a thousand sick tricks I’ve been waiting to try, don’t worry though this will only hurt… you know, until it doesn’t.
Time and time again- you fail to best me, and instead of admitting that you’re outmatched, you outsourced your victory and have the audacity to call us even...

No, what I’m gonna do…

The people I’m willing to hurt to make you understand Hero…

That, that will finally make us even.”




*******



Part 3: The Saccharine Songbird



Jazz Club
Downtown Sin City
8:16pm
01.11.2020



She was quite the sight to see.

Glitzed and glamoured like a straight out of a Tarantino classic, the only thing that carried more sparkle than what she was wearing was the personality she exuded. Red had heard she was as sweet as her name, like a goddamn angel in a place where they were few and far between- maybe for good reason, Red couldn’t stomach the idea of such innocence pacing a stage with her head held so high it's a wonder she ever saw the grimy floorboards she tread.
A bright spark in a dark place, Red almost felt bad about the fact she’d crossed into her path.

Magenta hues glimmered under a spotlight, captivating a crowd with hopes pinned on a single womans optimism- maybe she was the reason they got up in the morning, the reason they kissed their mediocre wives goodbye and sat in a shitty cubicle for ten hours imagining what the sun felt like on their skin. Maybe she was the reason they drank until their stomachs bled, the reason they couldn’t sleep till the early hours cause cigar smoke tore through their lungs- maybe she was the reason they gasped for air, and not the heady lysol stench from another clean up at the back of the room.
Saccharine Songbird- it wasn’t as though she even sang that well, her voice grated on the nerves, but her eyes lit up a room like Christmas morning. High pitched giggles and squeals left ears ringing and raw, but her enthusiasm rejuvenated the most tired of souls.

Red didn’t hate the Saccharine Songbird- she was just simple, serendipitous collateral damage.

A known, vocal supporter of the Hero- Red had already considered the Saccharine Songbird on her radar but considered her a non-threat, inoffensive to everything except good taste. Of course her dullard views on the world were wildly impractical, childish and utterly futile- Red had no reason otherwise to consider her worth the time to pursue.
Of course, a contract was a contract though- and suddenly an inconsequential became two birds with one stone.

Red watched the Saccharine Songbird toddle off stage towards the bar, the enraptured masses diverging around her like she might have been a holy man parting the red sea. Heels click, clacking against a sticky floor- it was almost unsettling the way people responded to such… idealism. Drawing smiles from faces carved into misery and despondency, perhaps it was no wonder she was drawn to a type like the Hero… Someone representing that valiance and nobility, someone who appeared to share the same starry-eyed perspective that everything could be better with just a little… glitter.
It was like a goddamn magnet, and Red couldn't possibly feel more repulsed.

Worst part was, once this was all over… Red doubted that the Hero would even remember the sacrifice of the Saccharine Songbird, another pawn thrown in the path of a queen. Another sycophant falling by the wayside, making room for another with hope in their eyes and determination in their hearts to be grievously disappointed or left a carcass on the side of tracks.
Red watched from the furthest table, trying to ignore the way her jacket seemed to stick to every surface, predictability was key and a few dollars in the right direction would never go astray- the bartender made eye contact, barely concealing a wry smile.

Poison was easy. Fast, effective and prospectively lethal in any dose- the contract had demanded it, however Red wasn’t going to argue with the method. A spiked drink was an everyday occurrence, a misfortune like a Saccharine Songbird caught in a lightning storm.
Scraping her chair across the floor, Red breathed one last lungful of cigar smoke and disinfectant- the Saccharine Songbird was an accidental consequence, a happy little coincidence on the road to breaking a Heroes heart.

Maybe later Red would feel bad about this, while there was no doubt that the Saccharine Songbird didn’t deserve such a fate- she had to remind herself that actions had consequences and hurricanes didn't get to pick and choose which houses to save…
She’d learn like the others, in the last moments of life- she’d see, like many before her, there was no hero coming to save them. No one waiting by the door to burst in and act heroically, no capes flapping in the breeze majestically, no one to tell them everything would be okay when it absolutely wasn’t.
Red wondered if she’d cry out, maybe beg the Heroes name. Would she be disappointed when she didn’t show or understand that there might be an old lady in a tree or a kitten trying to cross the road- perhaps it didn’t matter.
It was all an expectation now, and it was the only one the Hero was living up to… A constant too little, too late.

Red didn’t even get a chance to turn around, a moment to contemplate that maybe she’d gone a step too far… With barely a hand wrapped around the door, she was out into the inky night before the screaming began.




******



“Are we poisonous, Hero.

Have we reached the point that the only people we don’t seem to affect are each other, it seems like you’re becoming immune to my threats and I’m becoming numb to your lacklustre excuses. I feel like it's safe to say we went septic long ago, we’re gangrene crawling our way through every limb and wrapping our tendrils around everything and everyone who makes us special.
Seemed kinda apt to be considered that way- your precious Saccharine Songbird, her cries were the sweetest music I’ve heard for awhile… Where were you? Hero, oh sweet Hero.
She cried for you, it was your name she was calling and like any good Hero you showed up just late enough to draw from the tragedy, fuel that fucking sob story that you couldn’t save yet another lemming despite the fact you directed them straight towards the cliff.

It was my contract, but she was your Songbird.

Duty of care Hero, you let her down just like you keep letting me down, like you keep letting your family down and like you keep letting down everyone who relies on you to keep them safe from someone like me…
It's a broken record by now- same song, same dance. It's not changing cause you aren’t goddamn learning- just fucking admit it Hero, your reputation means more than the people around you.
You would rather be seen as this dauntless albeit haunted warrior fuelled by everyone you couldn’t quite make it to in time- never mind the fact you deliberately let them go cause everyone loves a sad one.

Saccharine Songbird waited for you. She begged for you… and you let her suffer, and all for a GODDAMN FUCKING ENTRANCE. Superhero landings be damned, even I’m not so cruel as to make a dying woman wait till the lighting makes me look like a badass.
While you’re busy messing around with the minions, the low lives and the wannabes-  I’m here cutting the legs out from underneath those with influence- hell, I’m punching at God while you’re taking swipes at fish in a barrel.

There's a thousand others just like her though- as disposable as people come, thrown in the trash the moment they outlive their sympathy. Give it a day or two and someone else will fill the void- isn’t that the plan though… A rotating roster of followers so not one person ever gets tired of your schtick?
As soon as they start getting too close to realizing that everything you stand for is trite and meaningless, you throw them to the wolves and replace them with someone more pliant and hopeful- sidekicks are only such cause it's easier to push them off a cliff.

Another accident? How very unfortunate.

That's the one thing I’ll never understand about you Hero, is the way you’re so determined not to be like me… and yet you’ve been a far worse human all along, you epitomise everything that's wrong with this place- from lying to hypocrisy to straight up just being kind of a dick to literally everyone.
Only reason you’re loved is cause you found a loophole- you play so hard to the heartstrings that no one noticed when you cut them in the first place. You’re loved cause you found the right way to pose under a spotlight, cause you appear to the masses as the least threatening version of the apocalypse, cause you made yourself look like anyone else.

If I wasn’t so invested in you, I’d think you were the most disgusting person I might have ever met.

Don’t get me wrong Hero, I’m a fucking terrible person- but thing is I freely admit it, I’ve made it well known that I have tried to do better, to be better and like the absolute piece of garbage you are- you took all of that and proverbially threw it back in my face.
After all that, after the total lack of respect and decency you chose to show- you still stand there like a goddamn fool questioning why I walk freely into your city and start burning the place down.

I don’t act without a reason Hero, it's about time you start questioning why it's only happening to you.

I mean heaven forbid you might actually be the problem in this place.

Don’t take my word for it though, I’m sure there's plenty of other lives you ruined simply because empathy breeds competition and no one can possibly be any more tragic than you.

Go ahead and mourn those losses, after all… 9 times out of 10 it's cause you put them there in the first place.

Worst thing about all of this is- in a place like this, there will always be a place for heroes, for all the little good they actually do. The more disingenuous and catastrophic, the better. A city wide battle should be cause for concern and yet everyone rubs their hands together for that sweet, sweet public validation of their existence. A hero will always have a pedestal so long as there's someone out there willing to follow them-  as long as fealty and subservience are pride of place, valued above all other traits, heroes shall continue to thrive and blossom like stinging nettles and poison ivy while convincing everyone they sting far less than the unknown.

God, I can just see it all now... When all this is over- a Hero eternalized in metal and stone like some stagnant martyr in misremembered history outside City Hall, celebrated for… what exactly… saving the day when they themselves brought about the cataclysmic events simply, because they messed with forces that shouldn’t be messed with?
Fooling an entire populace into believing you’re everything they thought they ever needed, that you stand for all the things they wanna believe while simultaneous rubbing their noses in their own double standards?

God, it's like you incentivise consistent bad behavior Hero- but in the end you can't keep rewarding children for pissing on the toilet floor just cause it's closer to the bowl this time. Sure, A- for effort kiddies, but it doesn't change the fact that the whole thing still just fucking stinks.

Maybe you’ll tell them I deserve to be alone, that someone like me doesn't deserve the loyalty of others- that I can't appreciate what they have to offer, but when it comes down to it Hero, a hurricane doesn’t need foot soldiers to tear through a city- just in the same way a Hero doesn’t need a cape, but dutifully loops it around their neck anyway. It's all for show Hero, it's all just part of the pantomime and heaven forbid you miss a step in your big musical number.

In the end- you need to realize I don’t need an army, I don’t need a poor selection of brain dead and blindly loyal has beens and never weres to run interference on my behalf, if only so I look competent at the one thing I’m supposed to pride myself on.

You always swore you were different to me Hero- only now do I realize maybe you were kinda right… You need the swell of admiration, the roars of the masses to pump adrenaline a little faster in your veins, you need your existence justified and validated for everything you do to seem relevant. You can’t even stand to throw a punch without someone there to document the occasion…

Me?

All I’ve got is all I ever needed… Two fists and a heartbeat and that alone, my darling, makes me more of a Hero than you could ever be...””




******


Record
SCW: 15 - 4 - 1
Uprising: 8 - 2 - 0
Life: 0 - 1 - 0</span>

Offline Roxi Johnson

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Re: Amber Ryan v Roxi Johnson - Last Woman Standing
« Reply #2 on: November 14, 2020, 11:55:20 PM »
{Our scene begins with Roxi sitting cross legged, arms resting on her thighs. Her eyes are closed as she clearly looks to be meditating. The room is dimly lit and Roxi sits in silence. It is eventually broken however, when Keira opens the door.}

 

Keira – Oh. I didn’t know.

 

Roxi – It's fine.

 

{Roxi doesn’t open her eyes for a moment, but she does and slowly gets up, Keira smiling weakly at her.}

 

Keira – I just was just trying to see if you were okay.

 

Roxi – I said I was fine. Listen, you can’t keep blaming yourself for what happened. 

 

Keira – You've known me long enough to know that it’s not going to happen that easily.

 

Roxi – I know you take things to heart, but this wasn’t on you. I was in the wrong place at the right time for Sin to do what she did. That’s not your fault. It’s mine. I couldn’t leave Candy out there to get hurt by Amber.

 

Keira – Amber messed this whole thing up. She’s going to cause the end of the world.

 

Roxi – No, she’s not. We’re going to stop Sin, and we’re going to put an end to all of this. 

 

Keira – You say this like it’s going to be easy. We both know it’s not, Roxi. We’re going to need everything we can get. we may need a miracle if I’m being honest.

 

Roxi – Nothing that’s worth doing is ever easy, Keira. We have faced plenty of hardships before, we have faced down many challenges over and over. And at the end of all of it? Right here and now? We’re still here. We’re still fighting and we continue to fight no matter what. That’s what we do, and what we’ve always done.

 

Keira – You and I both know this is different. It’s not the same. The fate of everything is now completely up in the air. Sometimes I wish you hadn’t -

 

{Roxi grabs Keira’s arm to stop her from finishing the sentence.}

 

Roxi – Stop that. You stop thinking like that right now. Even if I knew then, what I know now. Even if nothing, nothing at all changed in my life if that one event changed. Even if my life was better for me personally, and professionally... I would have saved you. Not one thing would make me change or regret that decision.

 

Keira – Even the end of the world and everyone burning a fiery hell? Even if everyone we know was dead because of what I unleashed on this world?

 

Roxi – As long as I’m with you, they can do their worst.

 

Keira smiles and hugs Roxi tightly.

 

Keira – Why do you believe in me so much?

 

Roxi – Because you are my wife. Because you are my friend. No matter what happens, between now and the day that you are aren’t here anymore, I will always love you, and I will always believe in you. You have given me hope when no one else did. You’ve given me joy, and every emotion I can think of. You keep me grounded when I need it. And above all else, you have never given up on yourself. You kept fighting for what you believed in. You would charge headlong into battle if it meant saving not just me, but everyone else. 

 

Keira – So would you.

 

Roxi – Is that why you believe in me?

 

Keira – Roxi, you are.... everything anyone could ever want in a friend, in a spouse, anything. And you are with me. A perennial fuck up.

 

Roxi – And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

Keira – I...

 

{Keira starts to cry.}

 

Roxi – I know. I love you too. Now, let’s not sad sack this right now. We’ve got plenty of work to do. Just know that I carry my love for you with me, always. 

 

Keira – And I know I carry yours. 

 

Roxi – Then there’s no need to be sad.

 

Keira – But you know you drive me crazy when you do things like you did last week.

 

Roxi – Last week?

 

Keira – You challenged Amber.

 

Roxi – *Sigh* It had to be done.

 

Keira – No, it didn’t. 

 

Roxi – Yes, it did, Keira. It’s the only way.

 

Keira – You always told me there’s always another way.

 

Roxi – Keira, I don’t want to do this any more than you want me to. I don’t want to have to go through with this match and try and literally beat Amber into oblivion. But she is leaving me with no choice. I have to stop her. 

 

Keira – Roxi, She has basically put you in the hospital twice. She’s done all kinds of terrible things to you, and you keep running back out there for more like a crazy person. You know how this is going to end, don’t you? 

 

Roxi – I’m probably going to get hurt very badly.

 

Keira – EXACTLY! Look, I know you are more than capable of taking care of yourself, and I know exactly what you are thinking. And you and I both know that this isn’t going to solve the problem.

 

Roxi – Then what do you want me to do Keira? Allow her to hurt people like Candy as she sees fit? It was to get at ME, it wasn’t about Candy. It’s not going to stop until...

 

Keira – Until one of you can’t walk or has their career ended. I’m not doubting you at all, I’m just saying that this is basically like you’re trying to reason with a brick wall. You are giving Amber the opportunity to take everything away from you if she gets the chance. She tried to stab you at Violent Conduct. She’s not going to hesitate to try and put your eye out or break anything she can to win. 

 

Roxi – It’s either that, or other people suffer because I didn’t do this, Keira. That’s just the way it is. I don’t expect you to be happy about, or even tolerate it. But you know what I’m doing, is the right thing. I am leaving you to fight your fight, I just need you to leave me to fight this one. Just one more time.

 

{Keira sighs.}

 

Keira – Until the next time.

 

Roxi – Hopefully, it won’t be any time soon.

 

{Keira finally relents.}

 

Keira – Okay. Just... do what you know you have to do.

 

Roxi – What I have to do, may not be the best option, I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that it isn’t the only one.

 

Keira – Fair enough.

 

{The two hug one more time, but they are interrupted by Roxi’s wrist communicator.}

 

Keira – Its' always something.

 

Roxi – Relax. Go ahead, Vision.

 

Vision – So, Lieutenant Murphy has been trying to get a hold of the you to get you to go to Texas?

 

Roxi – Really?

 

Vision – Yes.

 

Roxi – Alright, give me a minute and then patch him through.

 

Vision – Sure.

 

Keira – I guess that’s my cue to leave.

 

Roxi – It won’t be long.

 

Keira – You always say that.

 

Roxi – Yeah... I know. 

 

{Keira kisses Roxi and then leaves her in the room alone.}

 

Roxi – Okay, Patch him through.

 

Vision – And.... done.

 

Roxi – Murphy?

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Super, listen, I need you here at the Joe Byrd Cemetery.

 

Roxi – What's going on?

 

Lieutenant Murphy – I'm about to lose my badge forever.

 

Roxi – Promises, promises.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – I need you down here to back me up. I’m about to exhume a body.

 

Roxi – You got the okay?

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Yes, and no. Basically, let’s just say if what’s in this grave isn’t Matt Frank, I’ll have something to go on. 

 

Roxi – Alright, I’ll be there as soon as I can.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Sure, take your time, only got my job riding on it.

 

Roxi – I’ll be there. Promise.

 

{Roxi ends the call and then suits up, before making another call.}

 

Roxi – AJ, I need you to do me a favor.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – What now? More Zombie stuff? Do you need another glitter bomb? 

 

Roxi – No, I need you to look up the cause of death for an inmate of the Florida State Prison. A Matt Frank. Tell me what you can find.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Why do you give me all the boring work to do?

 

Roxi – Because you aren’t doing anything else. You’re cranky, and I let you use that crankiness to make the world a better place.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – … You know I hate it when you’re right. But, it is one of the reasons I love you.

 

Roxi – I love you too. So, please can you help me?

 

Amy Jo Smyth – You know, you as a superhero should access to all this.

 

Roxi – You're part of the team, AJ. 

 

Amy Jo Smyth – … You’re humoring me aren’t you?

 

Roxi – You're part of the team. I promise. Now please can you do this for me?

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Alright, alright, I can get access to the prison system databases thanks to a few contacts. I should have something soon.

 

Roxi – You're a life saver AJ.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – In more ways than one.

 

Roxi ends the call, placing her phone in her belt, and teleporting her way to Texas.}

 

 

 

{Roxi arrives at the Captain Joe Byrd prison Cemetery within minutes. Lieutenant Murphy is there pacing back and forth. Roxi walks up to him, greeting him with a wave.}

 

Lieutenant Murphy – You work fast.

 

Roxi – The perks of being a superhero.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – I’m out here risking my neck on this one. 

 

Roxi – Look, you have a reasonable explanation. The teeth marks are a match. 

 

Lieutenant Murphy – But this guy has been dead for two years. Doctor at the prison confirmed it. They fly them here and a few other places. But, I know he’s here. 

 

Roxi – Well, what are we waiting for then? Let’s go find us a dead guy. Or... undead guy...

 

Lieutenant Murphy – You know, Halloween is over.

 

Roxi – Obviously not for this guy.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Now you got me thinking I don’t even what I’m hoping for here.

 

Roxi – Well, best case scenario, you guys in the ground, and we have a copycat and possibly a computer mismatch or something like that. 

 

Lieutenant Murphy – And then I get fired.

 

Roxi – The lead was enough to at least peek.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – We’re defiling a gravesite.

 

Roxi – Of a murderer. What are you afraid of, a curse?

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Don’t put that shit on me.

 

Roxi – What, superstitious? 

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Let’s just say I don’t like to tempt good and bad luck like that.

 

Roxi – You know I can find you like a four-leaf clover or a rabbit’s foot if it’s that bad.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Let’s just find the body.

 

Roxi – Lead the way.

 

{Murphy and Roxi make their way to the cemetery and walk through the graves of all the inmates. They are then met by the groundskeeper, and a police official.}

 

Police Official – Can I help you?

 

Lieutenant Murphy – I'm Lieutenant Murphy, Tampa police. We spoke on the phone.

 

Police Official – Ah, yes, Murphy. You really are pushing the limits of an investigation, Lieutenant.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Tell me about it. I just want to get this over with. At the end of the day, if... I’m wrong, it’ll be the last thing I do anyway. 

 

Police Official – I'd say so. 

 

Roxi – We do have reason to believe that Matt Frank may still be alive.

 

Police Official – Well, I can almost guarantee that he’s in the ground over there. I don’t even know why I’m allowing this to happen.

 

Roxi – We need to be sure we’re not chasing ghosts.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Look, it’s a solid lead, and... shit, if he’s not in there, I don’t know if I’ll even be able to be happy this wasn’t a waste of everyone’s time.

 

Police Official – Very well, Lieutenant. This is on your head if you want to go ahead and desecrate graves.

 

{The three begin to walk led by the grounds keeper. There is a worker who drives up with a backhoe, following them to their destination. The grounds keeper pulls out a map and begins to look.}

Groundskeeper– 18.... 19... 20. Here it is.

 

{He waves the backhoe over and points to the gravesite. Murphy takes a deep breath, hands on hips looking around nervously.}

 

Roxi – You gonna be okay?

 

Lieutenant Murphy – No.

 

{The backhoe makes it over and Murphy finally nods. The Backhoe tears into the ground and begins pulling out mound and mounds of dirt eventually reaching the casket itself, Murphy takes a deep breath as the groundskeeper digs out the rest of the grave, and then unearths the caskets, and uses a crowbar to pry open the casket itself.}

 

Roxi – Well, I guess this is the moment of truth.

 

{Murphy gets into the grave, and looks down and studies the bones and other remains in the casket. Murphy looks, hands on hips, and then on his head as he almost paces in the grave.}

 

Roxi – Well?

 

Lieutenant Murphy – It’s not him.

 

Roxi – What? How do you know?

 

Lieutenant Murphy – The teeth. This skull has perfect teeth. Frank has a misaligned jaw and his teeth were crooked. Lots of crowding. 

 

Roxi – Maybe he got braces?

 

Lieutenant Murphy – In Prison? At age 70 or whatever?

 

Roxi – Its possible.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – No, it’s not him. It’s not him. God damn it it’s not him.

 

Roxi – So... who is it?

 

Lieutenant Murphy – That’s a good question. We’ll have to go through even more records. Shit, this is bad.

 

Roxi – Wait, I need to ask you something.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – What?

 

Roxi – The... remains I guess, from the house. Did we ever get an ID on them?

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Finger prints were a match to a Mark Cole. 

 

Roxi – Did he have any connection to Matt? 

 

Lieutenant Murphy – None that we know of. Nothing was ever established.

 

Roxi – Then... Matt Frank is still alive.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Apparently. 

 

Police Official – We'll have to check medical records from the prison. Is this all you needed? 

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Yeah... I mean, I’m assuming that the skull will need to be identified.

 

Police Official – Yes, quite right.

 

Roxi – I’ll check with my people and see if I can find anything, in the meantime... 

 

Lieutenant Murphy – We need to find the doctor.

 

Roxi – Doctor?

 

Lieutenant Murphy – The whole who declared Matt Frank dead. Kind of hard to confuse someone who’s dead, with someone who’s alive. I’ll meet you back in Florida.

 

Roxi – Alright. I’ll keep looking.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – I’ll see what the people here might have, and obviously we’ll need to get the identity of the person in the grave, and find out where the hell Matt Frank is... before he does something to someone else.

 

Roxi – Well, at least he’s not a zombie?

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Very funny, super. I’ve got a 70-year-old killer on the loose, and you want to make jokes. 

 

Roxi – Just easing the tension.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Ease it elsewhere. Now I have to figure out how he escaped in the first place.

 

{Roxi sits there for a moment, and she begins to think.}

 

Roxi – What if he wasn’t alone?

 

Lieutenant Murphy – What do you mean?

 

Roxi – If we’re saying that Matt Frank, 70 year old man, was able to fake his death, fool the doctor and escape without anyone noticing, plus switching out someone else to be put in his grave, I’d say it’s hard to believe. Look, motivated people can do a lot, but I have a hard time thinking this was Matt, and Matt alone.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – You think he had help.... But Matt was always a loner. The man ate people. Who wants to associate with that?

 

Roxi – Guess we’ll find out. I’ll be in touch.

 

{Roxi takes off, headed back to Florida as the scene fades.}

 

 

 

{Roxi returns to Amy Jo Smyth’s house afterwards. She is lead in by AJ who has a plate full of spaghetti in her hands. She leads Roxi to the basement again and produces a manilla folder of papers.}

 

Amy Jo Smyth – That's all I can find on a Matt Frank from Florida. 

 

{Roxi begins to go through the files, looking for anything of interest.}

 

Roxi – We dug up the grave, and Matt Frank wasn’t the one in the grave. Still waiting on the results of who the person in the grave was.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Well, this guy was marked as dead. Heart failure. 

 

Roxi – Well, he’s alive, or at least, he wasn’t in the grave marked for him.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – I’m kind of disappointed he’s not a zombie.

 

Roxi – I don’t know what to think. He had to have escaped from prison.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Well, he was inside of Florida State prison. By all records he was a model inmate. I think they just gave him a wide berth since he was pretty dangerous.

 

Roxi – What’s this?

 

{Roxi shows a scan of Franks skull}

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Brain scan. Yeah, your boy Frank here wasn’t all there, Looks like he was eventually diagnosed with CJD.

 

Roxi – What’s CJD?

 

Amy Jo Smyth – It’s short for Creitzfeldt-Jakob Disease. It’s a mental illness that’s pretty rare. Only about 300 cases a year. 

 

Roxi – And he had it?

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Or he does. That’s just what the reports say and my googling of it. I’d need a degree in Neuro-Ophthalmology to give you the 4-1-1.  All I know is, there’s pretty much no treatment but it does affect cognitive skills eventually.

 

Roxi – So, based on this, there’s no way he broke out of prison by himself.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Yeah, no. If he’s suffering from any affects at this point, he’d need around the clock care.

 

Roxi – Hmm....

 

Amy Jo Smyth – And at his age, he’d actually be better off in prison or dead. So, no he didn’t just... break out. 

 

Roxi – But he’s not in the grave, he’s gotta be somewhere. He’s still biting people.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – What? 

 

Roxi – The crime scene before, the victim has pieces of flesh bitten out of them and bite marks. The bite marks matched Frank’s dental records.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – So... he’s just a cannibal.

 

Roxi – But also dead, and also has CJD.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – He’s basically as close as you can get scientifically to a zombie without actually being reanimated.

 

{Roxi continues to look through the files.}

 

Amy Jo Smyth – What about... the doctor?

 

Roxi – What about him?

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Well, let’s think about this. Wouldn’t the doctor be in on it? The prison doctor would know if the guy is alive or dead. What if he told people the guy was dead? He can just write it up. Who’s going to question a doctor? 

 

Roxi – The current President.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Okay, outside of crazy people believing crazy conspiracies, there’d be no reason to think the doctor who’s seeing this patient wouldn’t work with him. 

 

Roxi – Then... all of this could be faked.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Those scans are real. He does have CJD, but that’s not the point here. This doctor could have easily helped your guy escape. He’s dealing with several dead people so what’s another body, you know? Who’s going to question if he’s being truthful? I would look into the doctor.

 

Roxi – That’s a solid lead, actually.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – My guess is that the doctor was either paid, or threatened, to pronounce the guy dead, helped him smuggle himself out of the prison because they think he’s dead, and he’s got another body to make the swap. It’s an inside job and it actually makes a lot of sense.

 

Roxi – Never stop thinking like a cop.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Bish I know.

 

Roxi – Alright, alright.

 

{Roxi flips through the pages, coming up to the doctor’s reports.}

 

Roxi – Dr. Craig Allen. That’s a person we’re going to need to look into.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – I’ll get my google machine.

 

{AJ starts looking up Craig Allen through various databases.}

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Alright, Craig Allen, that looks like our guy. Divorced, 65, left the Florida State prison last year, retired to Clearwater. So, if you want him, looks like you’re going to have to make another trip.

 

Roxi – No, this is.... this is super helpful.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – You know I got you.

 

Roxi – Can you look up one other person really quick?

 

Amy Jo Smyth – All these favors I do for you...

 

Roxi – I know, I know, I’ll buy you dinner at some point.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Fucking better. Who am I looking up now?

 

Roxi – The victim of the... possibly being eaten, was a Mark Cole.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Alright, let’s see.

 

{AJ continues to look through the databases, now searching for Cole’s name.}

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Mark Cole was reported missing back in April. Looks like before that he was a handyman, odd jobs here and there and.... 

 

{AJ smirks.}

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Worked as a driver for the Prison Transport system. That’s the guy who got your guy out of prison.

 

Roxi – And now he’s dead.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Because any good criminal will tie up loose ends. 

 

Roxi – Matt Frank knows who he’s going after. This means....

 

Amy Jo Smyth – That means if he’s not already there, Dr. Allen may have a visitor soon.

 

Roxi – But... the guy is 70, and has CJD...

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Just like the prison break, he’s not acting alone. 

 

Roxi – That is bad. I have to talk to Murphy. 

 

Amy Jo Smyth – You do that. 

 

{AJ slurps on her spaghetti and offers the plate to Roxi.}

 

Amy Jo Smyth – You want some spaghetti?

 

Roxi – No. Thanks.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – More for me.

 

Roxi – AJ, once again you’ve been a big help.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Bish I know. Now, you need anything else, or can I finish my food? 

 

Roxi – Not right now. 

 

Amy Jo Smyth – No more glitter bombs?

 

Roxi – One was enough, AJ.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – I’m just checking. 

 

Roxi – You know, at the end of all this, you might be the next person she goes after.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – I will glitter bomb her ass again. I’m too old for this shit anymore.

 

Roxi – That’s why I plan on handling it. Anyway, I’ve got to get back. Dr. Allen may be in trouble or... working with a science zombie.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Crazy, right?

 

Roxi – No kidding.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Hey uh... you tell Keira I said good luck, yeah? 

 

Roxi – Yeah, sure. I know she’ll appreciate that.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – I make her some food or something if she wins.

 

Roxi – She’s going to hold you too that.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Just a little motivation.

 

Roxi – Thanks, AJ. Really.

 

Amy Jo Smyth – Go on, get outta here and leave me with my spaghetti.

 

{Roxi and AJ share a hug before Roxi departs.}

 

 

 

{The new scene is with Roxi having returned to the Police HQ rooftop where Lieutenant Murphy quickly comes out of the roof exit, walking towards Roxi, while at the same time reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cigarette.}

 

Roxi – You know those things will kill you.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Everything is going to kill everybody at this point. What’s the difference?

 

Roxi – Anyway, I did some digging with my people and we may have a lot of connections.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Oh?

 

Roxi – Mark Cole, used to work in the prison transport business.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Hmmm... That could be an in. 

 

Roxi – Our working theory is that Cole and the doctor, Dr. Craig Allen helped Frank escape. Allen was either threatened or paid off, declared Frank dead, and somewhere there was a swap of bodies, of, our guy in the grave, and Cole helped with the transport.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Makes sense. The skull wasn’t Frank’s, as I suspected. It belongs to another inmate Chris Johnston. So, looks like we only have one missing piece to this.

 

Roxi – Dr. Allen.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – And we also need a why too. And to know where the hell Matt Frank even is.

 

Roxi – There’s a lot more to it than that.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Oh great.

 

Roxi – From the medical records, it looks like Frank has CJD. He’s gotta be literally falling apart at this point. 

 

Lieutenant Murphy – What’s that? 

 

Roxi – Creitzfeldt-Jakob Disease. It’s a neurological disorder. 

 

Lieutenant Murphy – So he’s basically a vegtable?

 

Roxi – If these records are right. But considering that Dr. Allen most likely forged them, it could be something else. We’d need to talk to him and get the information.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – And you think he’s just going to give it up?

 

Roxi – If we’re lucky, Allen would have no idea we know what we know. But, if perhaps somehow Frank is still... up and able-bodied, it stands to reason if Cole got this treatment, that Dr. Allen would be next.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Frank is tying up loose ends before he dies. Get away with the prison escape that no one knows happened.

 

Roxi – Exactly. So if Dr. Allen isn’t already in fear for his life, or dead already, we may be able to intercept Frank before he kills Dr. Allen.

 

Lieutenant Murphy –Shit, alright, I’ll put out and ABP for Dr. Allen.

 

Roxi – He’s in clearwater, per the records.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Well, that’s not far from here. About a half hour. I’ll see if I can get an address, and I’ll meet you there.

 

Roxi – Do you want to use... backup or something?

 

Lieutenant Murphy – You are my backup.

 

Roxi – Oh, well, that’s reassuring.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Look, we show up with 10 cops and who knows what might happen. If we’re casual about it, less suspicion.

 

Roxi – If you say so. I’ll be waiting for any word. 

 

Lieutenant Murphy – We should still have the file photo. So, once we find the address, we go in.

 

Roxi – Alright. 

 

Lieutenant Murphy – I’ll talk to you soon.

 

Roxi – You know, we make a good team.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Don’t start that. 

 

Roxi – I mean it.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – You know, if I was wrong about all this, I wouldn’t even have a job. I still could be wrong.

 

Roxi – I mean, yeah, but it was worth looking for I think. 

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Maybe. Maybe I’ll feel better if we catch the son of a bitch again.

 

Roxi – I think we all will. Then we won’t find too many more people who have been eaten by other people.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Shit. I guess so. I’ll see you.

 

Roxi – You got it.

 

{Murphy departs the roof, reaching into his pocket for his radio to call in the APB. Roxi sighs and pulls out her phone and dials, bringing up the facetime app when it is answered.}

 

Roxi – Hey.

 

Keira – Hey. Working late?

 

Roxi – I think we’re pretty close to figuring this out. 

 

Keira – Okay, well, I guess we’ll eat without you.

 

Roxi – Sorry. You know I’d much rather be at home.

 

Keira – Not to mention the end of the world is coming.

 

Roxi – Wouldn’t miss that for the world either. I’ll be home as soon as I can.

 

Keira – Just be careful.

 

Roxi – I will. I love you.

 

Keira – I love you too.

 

{Roxi ends the call, but instantly a message goes off on her burner phone she uses for hero work.

 

221 Baker Street. 

 

Roxi sees this, nods and flies off towards the location at the scene fades.}

 

 

 

{Roxi lands at the address Murphy already there in his civilian car, window rolled down.}

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Hey. Over here.

 

{Roxi sees this, and enters the car on the passenger side.}

 

Roxi – What are we waiting for?

 

Lieutenant Murphy – We can’t just go barging in his home. We have to do this one a little more subtle than that.

 

Roxi – But if he’s in his house then what’s the difference. We have to confront him. We’re here for questioning, not to break and enter.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Just watch. If we know he’s home, then we’ll go knocking. 

 

Roxi – Alright, alright.

 

{Roxi and Murphy watch the door and the windows which are lit up by lights both inside and outside. For a long time there isn’t any movement in the house, but finally, there is movement from inside the house. Murphy puts out his cigarette and exits the car.}

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Let’s go.

 

{Murphy and Roxi head to the front door and knock.}

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Dr. Allen?  Dr. Allen this is the police, can you open up please?

 

{There is no sound from the other side of the door. Murphy knocks again, this time louder and more forceful.}

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Dr. Allen! This is the police! I need you to open the door. We just have some questions we need to ask you, sir. Please, Dr. Allen.

 

{Again, there is nothing from the other side of the door.}

 

Roxi – What do you think?

 

Lieutenant Murphy – He might be in trouble, or trying to make us think he’s not there. Let me try one more time.

 

{Murphy knocks again, even louder, outright banging on the door.}

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Dr. Allen! If you do not come to the door, I will be forced to break it down. Please come to the door, now! We know you are in there!

 

{Another minute where there is no sound or movement from inside the house.}

 

Roxi – He's gotta be in trouble.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Let's go.

 

{Murphy prepares to shoulder the door, but Roxi stops him, and she simply opens the door, as it was unlocked.}

 

Roxi – Let's not get crazy.

 

{Murphy shrugs and he enters first, gun drawn, flashlight out, slowly moving through the house.}

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Dr. Allen? Dr. Allen are you here? 

 

{Roxi follows Murphy cautiously, after closing the door and keeping an eye on Murphy’s blind spots, and moving along with him. Murphy continues to look around. Getting an overview of the house.}

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Alright, room by room we go then.

 

{Murphy starts searching room by room with Roxi. They look over the bedrooms, check closets, check the bathroom and adjourning rooms in the house, finding no one inside.}

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Looks like the downstairs in clear. I’ll go upstairs, if you want to go to the basement. Or vise-versa.

 

Roxi – Fine, I’ll head down.

 

{Roxi and Murphy make it to the basement, both looking at one another for a moment, before they nod and head to their respective areas. Roxi ends up downstair in the basement, which she is able to flip on a light for. She walks down the creaky stairs, her stealth pretty much non-existent at this point.}

 

Roxi – Screw this. Dr. Allen! Are you here?! We’re just here to ask you some questions!

 

{Roxi continues to wander around the small-ish basement until she hears a noise, her head turns sharply towards the sound.}

 

Roxi – Hello? Dr. Allen?

 

{Roxi sighs.}

 

Roxi – This is the part of the horror movie where I get jump scared by a cat, isn’t it?

 

{Roxi sees a cabinet where the sound came from, and walks towards it slowly.}

 

Roxi – Dr. Allen? Dr. Allen? Is that you? 

 

{Roxi turns and calls up the stairs.}

 

Roxi – I think I found him!

 

{Roxi turns and sees the cabinet is tied with a zip tie. The noise intensifies as Roxi begins to undo the tie with a knife from her belt. She takes it off and opens the cabinet door, only to have the old, infirm Matt Frank drop on her.}

 

Roxi – What the hell!

 

{Matt is on top of Roxi and actually trying to bite here like an movie Zombie, He is far stronger than he looks but Roxi is able to hold him off, as he keeps biting at her, and trying to hold her down. That is until Dr. Allen appears from a different part of the basement, holding a gun in his hands. He takes aim, until Lieutenant Murphy appears, with his gun aimed at Allen’s back.}

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Freeze! 

 

Dr. Allen – I need to... save him...

 

{Roxi is able to wrestle Matt off of her and he writhes on the ground, biting at the air and clawing at the ground in no real direction.}

 

Lieutenant Murphy – What the hell is going on here? 

 

Dr. Allen – I... I take care of him now...

 

Lieutenant Murphy – You killed Mark Cole!

 

Dr. Allen – I just wanted to take care of him.

 

{Roxi looks at Matt on the ground, and then back at Dr. Allen.}

 

Roxi – It was you. You were the one behind it all.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – He was?

 

Dr. Allen – I am.

 

Roxi – You faked the death so you could treat him. You hired Cole to transfer the body to you. But once the disease got worse you needed to leave to take care of him. And if word got out why you were doing it, the whole thing would blow up. 

 

Lieutenant Murphy – So you killed Mark Cole to tie up loose ends, it wasn’t Matt, it was YOU. 

 

Dr. Allen – Yes... I … I admit it. Do you know there is no cure of Creitzfeldt-Jakob Disease? No matter what the patient will eventually die. There is no treatment, and I was going to lose a patient that I had grown to enjoy. Do you know what it’s like to lose someone you care about? Someone who one day is there, talking to you, enjoying your company and you there’s? And then a horrible disease takes it all away from you! 

 

Roxi – This man is a cannibal, a murderer.

 

Dr. Allen – He was my friend! And I’m going to help him!

 

Lieutenant Murphy – No, you’re under arrest. For the murder of Mark Cole, and for aiding and abetting a prisoner escape from a maximum-security facility.

 

{Murphy keeps the gun trained on Dr. Allen as he takes the gun from him and handcuffs him.}

 

Roxi – What do we do with him?

 

{Roxi points to Matt, still weakly flailing on the floor. She kneels down beside him as he weakly reaches for her.}

 

Roxi – We can’t just leave him like this.

 

{Murphy looks down and shakes his head. He maintains the grip on the link between Dr. Allen’s Handcuffs}

 

Lieutenant Murphy – I’ll call an ambulance.

 

Dr. Allen – No! They’ll kill him! They’ll kill him! I can cure him, I just need more time!

 

Lieutenant Murphy – You will have all the time in the world to think about how to save him in prison you lunatic. That man, is braindead, he can’t come back. He’s old, he’s dying. He will NOT be your monster. He was enough of one by himself! Let’s go!

 

{Murphy begins to basically drag Dr. Allen away and up the stairs as Roxi looks at the dying old cannibal murderer laying helplessly on the ground.}

 

Roxi – You know, Part of me feels sorry for you. Part of me wants to try and at least care for you, looking at you like this, as a human being, makes me kind of sad. Because that part of me wants to think that you didn’t ask for this and you don’t deserve it. but the hurt you have caused, the pain, the deaths and ruined lives? I can’t just let that be overlooked at this point, can I? You were a monster, and at the end, you truly became a monster even though you didn’t have any say in what happened. I wouldn’t wish disease on anyone in this life, especially not the one you have. But at the end of the day... that other part of me, thinks you deserve it for what you’ve done. Hopefully, as the rest of your mind slowly fades away, whatever is left, actually feels the pain you’ve caused. 

 

{Roxi slowly stands up and keeps watch over Matt, Roxi can already hear Murphy calling for backup and an ambulance.}

 

Roxi – Maybe everything I just said to you is well beyond your comprehension now, but that does not change the truth. Maybe you wanted to carry on a legacy by poisoning the mind of Dr. Allen. I don’t know. But a monster, is still a monster.

 

{Eventually, the paramedics arrive and actually muzzle Matt as he is loaded into the ambulance. Dr. Allen is loaded into the back of a police car and he is driven away. Eventually, Roxi and Lieutenant Murphy are the only ones left at the scene.}

 

Lieutenant Murphy – What the hell was any of that?

 

Roxi – Monsters, Lieutenant.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Yeah, no shit. 

 

Roxi – Well, I guess I get to cross “Tangling with the undead” off my bucket list.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – He wasn’t dead though.

 

Roxi – Physically, no. But in every other way, yeah, he was. I don’t think he even knew what he was doing back there, or maybe as far back when Cole was killed. 

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Yeah. Jesus, he mind fucked that Doctor though.

 

Roxi – People grow attatched to weird things. But, other people is pretty common. Maybe Matt was the one who wasn’t actually after anything in prison. Not looking for an escape. 

 

Lieutenant Murphy – You think that maybe, Matt was the only guy who treated him like a friend, and not an accomplice?

 

Roxi – Yeah, and I think maybe Matt knew that he had something wrong with him long before, and once Dr. Allen found out he was hell bent on saving him. Because Matt was good to him. Stands to reason.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – I’m just glad this is over.

 

Roxi – Yeah, look that way.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – I uh... I guess I owe you one, huh?

 

Roxi – No, you don’t. This was... weird for me too. 

 

Lieutenant Murphy – You know, I know I give you a hard time, and I’m still not a fan of you interfering with police work but... Thank you.

 

{Roxi turns and stares at Murphy.}

 

Roxi – Was that a thank you? Somebody pinch me. I think I might be going crazy myself.

 

Lieutenant Murphy – Don’t let it go to your head. 

 

Roxi – Right. I’ll keep it hush-hush. Anyway, I’m going to go and... I don’t know, probably have some other monster coming for me. I’ll see you around.

 

{Roxi flies off, Murphy giving her a salute as the scene fades.}

 

 

“You can split my mind... into a thousand little pieces... it won't make me believe... that you're anything more than a garden variety psychopath... and a pitiful one.. at that.” 

— Batman (Wonder Woman Vol 2 #165)

 

Hello SCW.

 

Yes, I have recovered from Sin’s attack on me, and I am back to 100%, which I’m sure makes one person in particular, very happy. 

 

Though very quickly, I need to address something else before I get onto the main idea of this little speech. It was rumored that perhaps I was supposed to challenge, or I may have been slotted to challenge Alicia Lukas in her pre–High Stakes title defense. I don’t know if that’s 100% true or not, but I wouldn’t have put it past anyone to build a little tension and excitement, and that I could have basically robbed my own wife of a potential championship match. Putting me in a very weird spot of wanting to beat Alicia, but not wanting to rob my wife of something she earned. So, for Alicia to ask where everyone was, It was just sort of a situation of right place, wrong time for me. I knew I was going to help out Candy two weeks ago and obviously, at the end of the day, things didn’t end up great for me. But, Alicia should know if that she retains, I still have a championship match before the end of the year. So, if she ends up looking for me, I will not be hard to find. 

 

But, then again, I have all the confidence in the world that my wife will be champion at the end of the day. But that’s another story, for another time. Right now, I have a far more pressing issue to deal with and finally put to bed as it has already gotten out of hand.

 

This thing between Amber and I was always going to end up this way, although I wish it didn’t. But since the day she set foot in SCW, it was building to this. In two weeks’ time, Amber and I are going to brutalize each other one more time. For the last time, until the next time, I suppose. This was never going to be about “wrestling” and who was better than the other. This is, and always has been about the limits that we both will go to. Almost as if this was a game of chicken and we both just keep pressing the gas and going faster and faster as we race closer and closer to the edge of the cliff. And I am convinced that Amber would happily drive both of us off that cliff just to prove a point. She would absolutely take me down with her. She would hurt herself, to hurt me. And what this has all boiled down to is, how willing I am to hurt her. 

 

That has always been one of the things that Amber has really wanted from me. For me, to hurt her, because in her eyes, I drop down to her level and this somehow proves we are alike. Amber has put me in a no-win situation that if I don’t hurt her, she doesn’t have the qualms about hurting me. It’s been evident from the start. She has lit my face on fire, she has beaten me with a chair, with brass knuckles, hell, with her bare fists. She has done everything possible to try and end my career, because she thinks this is some kind of game. Well, I played a game, and I won.

 

Sure, a little glitter, a freak light fixture, things happened that went my way and I beat Amber. It was, an attempt to show Amber that no matter what, I’m not going to go to the lengths that she wants me to. My back is for sure against the way, and it may seem like there’s only one way to move, and that’s forward. But I just cut a little bit to the right last time and I got the win. I was not out to hurt Amber, but to show her there’s always another way.  And all that seemed to do was given Amber this idea that I was recruiting people to help me against Amber. Now, AJ does what AJ wants. I have no control over her and why she came backstage at Violent Conduct. I certainly didn’t ask her to come backstage and give me that glitter bomb. At least, not for Amber. It was, for Candy since she really likes Glitter, and I figured she’d enjoy it. No one told Amber to open the box, and she got a face full of glitter for her troubles. But this was somehow a sign that I had planned this and I was doing it to embarrass Amber. And now, flash forward to a couple of weeks ago and what does Amber do? She drags poor Candy into this fight when she isn’t part of it. I should have known that Amber would stoop to this kind of thing, but you know, part of me wanted to believe that after Violent Conduct, she would understand and let things go. But obviously I was wrong.

 

Amber has now used her own frustration and disappointment to project onto me. That she’s not getting what she wants out of this and I have disappointed her because I haven’t gone to that place. That I played a game, and let Amber think she was going to get what she wanted, but she didn’t. I played a little game and I had hoped Amber would realize that and know it was just a little payback for what happened back in July. But now, now I’m still the bad guy because I beat Amber at her own game, but not the way she wanted me to. So now she resorts to desperate tactics like attacking Candy to get her revenge and prolong this war.

 

I will call it a war, because at this point, we are entering take no prisoners mode. Amber has decided that this needs to be even more personal because maybe I hurt her feelings. But that’s the point of this whole thing. I told everyone once, and I will tell you again, I went to that place a long time ago where I didn’t care who I hurt or how badly I did so. And it got me a temporary prize in the bombshell’s championship that second time, but aside from that, it almost cost me everything else. If I had stayed on that path, maybe I’d have won more matches or something like that, But I wouldn’t have the life I live right now. I wouldn’t have this great family, a whole lot of people who care about me and are with me on this crazy ride. I wouldn’t be me, I’d be someone else. And that’s not worth it for me. So I made a promise to myself, and to all of you, that I would never, ever go back to that place. And during this whole thing with Amber, while I was playing that role, It felt way better than it should have. But my point, and my promise will not be broken. I’m not going to change who I am, or what I do, no matter what. Amber has done some horrible things to me that I have every right to avenge. I have every reason to try and hurt her right back and try and put her out.

 

But that’s what she wants. 

 

And I refuse to play that game, because I played it before, and it wasn’t fun the first time. No, at this point, if anything, Amber and I do have one thing in common right now... We’re both disappointed.

 

Despite everything that has happened, I expected BETTER from Amber Ryan. It disappoints me greatly that she has now reduced herself to using other people to try and get to me. She had no problems just trying to attack me beforehand. She had no problem trying to be friendly with me. But now that that has gone by the wastes side, and now that just straight up trying to fight me has backfired. Here we are. We sit here and I’ve just gotten to the point where this needs to end. That is why I challenged Amber to this Last Woman Standing match. Because this has to end, and it has to be for Amber’s own good.

 

Because I feel that if this doesn’t end here, at least for a time, it’s never going to end, and like I said, Amber will injure herself, and take herself right out of the game, just to try and take me out. I’m dealing at this point with a woman on what amounts to a suicide mission. She has become so blinded by the idea that she will go to any and all lengths to prove she is correct. But I would like to think, that Amber had at least studied what many, many people have tried to do over my career and failed to do. I will not stop being who I am, for anybody. Love me, or hate me. But Amber is bound and determined to the point of madness, to prove that I am wrong and that with a little push, I can become just like her. That I am simply hiding who I really am behind the façade that’s lasted for years at this point. And while it’s been the equivalent of a hamster on a wheel. Amber will continue along this path, that so many have walked before, and come up empty, like everyone else has. But I know that Amber will walk and walk and walk until her body gives out, because she’s not going to stop. So, I have to stop her.

 

Yes, I understand that this is an incredibly dangerous match, and I’m walking into it with an incredibly dangerous person. I get it. I’m the one who asked for this. I’m the one who laid down this challenge and I’m fully prepared to live with the consequences. I know full well I’m going to get hurt and Amber is going to enjoy every second of doing so. And I know that Amber will do anything and everything in her power to make sure I get put down for the count of ten. I know that Amber will tell all of you that unless I go to that place, unless I become Amber destructive equal, that I’m simply prolonging the agony in this match. Because yes, there will be plenty of that. But let’s understand something about this whole entire 6-month journey that we have been on. There has been blood, there has been violence, there’s been coincidence, there has been chaos, there’s been fines, there’s been destruction, there’s been fire, there’s been glitter, and there has been pain. A lot of it. And all the while, through all the lies and games, we have come to a complete dead heat. No quarter asked or given, and we stand on equal footing. It's an irresistible force and immovable object scenario. It feels like we are destined to do this forever because no one is going to quit. It’s the whole reason I asked for this type of match. Because something has to give.

 

While Amber and I have fought tooth and nail, one thing remains the same. We haven’t been able to stop each other. We have given each other our best shots, and yet, we’re both still standing. And while Amber may project the idea that she’s enjoyed it, I know she didn’t expect it. She expected the mist and thumbtacks and fire to draw me into this war and that I was not prepared to survive it. But not only have I survived... I have thrived. Amber has tried her best to put me down and she couldn’t do it. And, on the flip side, I haven’t been able to stop her either. But... I will say that maybe is perhaps because I haven’t been trying to put Amber down for good. I haven’t gone there, and while Amber may think it’s a weakness, it is my greatest strength. Because I don’t think Amber has ever asked herself that question. If I WAS trying to hurt Amber and completely destroy her instead of simply trying to win a match... would we be in the same situation? Would Amber even be ABLE to compete in this type of match? 

 

I just want Amber to give that some thought while she thinks about this match and what is means. Am I toying with Amber or mocking her? No. I played all my tricks before this match. We have both laid the cards on the table. There are no more games to be played. This has been one game after the other but those are all done. This is where it ends. A fight, to the finish, and to the end of this chapter. And while Amber will give me the fight off my life, while she will do everything in her power to finally put me down... she knows she can’t. There is one thing she has been right about the whole time. She may say it sarcastically, she may think it’s just a clever pet name, but she has called me “Hero” a lot. 

 

So, what kind of a hero would I be if I went for the hurt now? What kind of hero would I be if I went out to try and destroy Amber in this match? The answer is, I wouldn’t be. Maybe in Amber’s mind I would be disappointing her again, but I was unaware I had to live up to Amber’s expectations? Maybe I’ll never live up to those, but I’ve never believed I would. While I try to live up to what people expect from me, perhaps to a fault, when someone tries to make me something into something I’m not, then it will never work. And what Amber wants from me? No. It’s not going to happen. I refuse to cross that line. And I expected so much more from Amber, but it has become the same song that I’ve heard too many times before. So now, I intend to silence the music one more time. 

 

At the end of the day, will it change anything? Will it finally register in Amber’s mind that I am what I say I am, and that nothing and no one person will ever change that? I don’t know. I just don’t know the answers to those questions. I want the answer to be yes, but I have a strong feeling that nothing will change. All I really know at this point, is that this must end here. And I know what you’re thinking, that once again I’m going to get myself hurt very badly, and that’s probably true. I’ve basically been sent to the hospital twice by Amber. And you know what? If it means that this war finally ends, then I am prepared to go right back to the hospital one more time. I am not afraid of getting hurt, or Amber herself. Rather, I have simply reached the point where this point must be driven home. It’s time that this finally comes to an end. And in the end, I’m going to beat Amber. 

 

I’m not out to hurt her, I’m out to stop her. I’ve never been out to hurt her, though I have given it plenty of thought. But for as much pain and suffering that we have caused to one another, we are still at this point now. We probably took years off our lives with that street fight. Hell, we never even touched the ring when falls counted anywhere. We tore up backstage area’s kitchens, and everything that wasn’t nailed down to try and do damage. And now we’re here, having to physically beat one another until they cannot stand. In many ways, this has been what I wanted to avoid with Amber. But I made this challenge, because we are running out of time and options. In fact, the options are gone. This HAS to be what happens now. And although I am going to have to do things that I don’t morally agree with, I will not step over that line. I’m not going to hurt Amber, I’m just going to beat her in this match. Because that’s what heroes do. They find a way to win when victory seems impossible. That’s what this is for me. Finding another way. 

 

I just wish... that it didn’t have to come to this. Because it didn’t. 

 

Because deep down... I want to save her. 
<img src=http://rockstarrj.webs.com/newroxibanner.jpg> </img>

Offline DistortedAngel

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... Sin City Noir: A Mistake In Martyrdom... (Part #2)
« Reply #3 on: November 20, 2020, 11:24:59 PM »
“It never works that way. Once that ugliness has been forced into you, it becomes part of your blood, dilutes it, races through your heart and back out again, staining everything as it goes. The ugliness never goes away, never comes out, no matter what you do. Anyone who thinks otherwise is naive. All you can do is hope to control it.”
― Dennis Lehane, A Drink Before the War





Part #4: The Interloper



Carnage Heights
Sin City
8:41pm
01.11.2020



It all felt oddly like deja vu.

A desolate rooftop. A redhead with feet dangling perilously like at any given moment she might simply disappear into the knowing abyss- maybe the fall would be beautiful, memorable and etched eternally into more than just the pavement as the unfortunate splatter seeped between the cracks in the concrete.
Besides, someone around here needed to keep the street cleaners busy these days.
In a chaotic world, few things were consistent and reliable- even the idea of a sunrise or sunset seemed to be in question as days and nights melded into something far more perpetual- a confused cycle of limbo in a place already trying to find a place beyond the mire to stand.

Heroes were the bad guys, the bad guys were worse and the worst… Well, that was always yet to come.

Red kicked her heels against the buildings side lazily, worn soles bouncing off a crumbling facade while watching a world fall deeper into the chaos it refused to admit it cultivated, that it nurtured, that it turned out on the world when it could no longer control it.
Must have been really easy for the good guys to cast blame, easier than ever to deny their wrong doings in the face of a ‘far greater evil’, except it wasn’t… It was trite and overrated. It was hyperbolic nothings designed to bolster reputations and deter from digging in those real sore spots that Heroes loves to avoid.

She’d been told a war was raging on the streets- that an Interloper to the crown had crawled out from the depths and wrapped a hand around the cities throat. Maybe they had, but only because the fucking Heroes let it…
Show the world there's something to fear and then vanquish it- the cliches of the righteous were innumerable and yet so over-wrought it would have brought a tear of dismay to Red’s eye had she not been so devoid of caring. A usurper to the throne never stacked up against the original, a facsimile would only ever be as such- you can try to capture lightning as many times as you like, but it's never quite as shocking after the first million volts.

To think, Red mused silently as the virulent cries of battle roared beneath, that the sacrifice of the Saccharine Songbird would end up being for nought- how little it would mean simply because a shinier, easier to break toy demanded attention. It was almost worth sympathizing that the Songbirds fall from grace would never nearly measure up to the loyalty she'd devoted to the Heroes cause…
After all, there were far more pressing matters at hand- and doing the fucking right thing didn't rank nearly as highly when there wasn’t a cheering audience to spectate it.
Out of sight out of mind, you know, until they needed a reason to be pissed about something and justify their shitty decision making.

Gang wars around here were insignificant at best and minorly irritating at worst- gangs squaring up like calling yourself the biggest badass still meant something. Groups of delinquents that otherwise had nothing going for them combining their venom into something vaguely potent to those without an immunity- or an easy target for some Heroes to wipe out and a cheap media pop.
From her vantage point, she could see the Hero and her harem of hapless sidekicks amid the throng like a red streak in a sea of beige- standing out only because everything else around them was so fucking bland. Such a waste really- of resources, faces getting scraped off the pavement… but most importantly time.

Mostly Red’s.

She wondered if this was deliberate- a slight towards her like she wasn't the greatest threat, a distraction to prove that she didn't own a pretty little corner of the Heroes mind. A show put on for a knowing watchers vantage point, a display to prove something not yet seen in their confrontations- perhaps if the Hero had shown this much vigor in previous outings, none of those involved would have found themselves in this situation to begin with.

Hindsight kiddies, 20/20 only in the rearview.

Hero and Interloper… It was almost comical how they were supposed to match up, like equals, like apples and oranges being compared- except in this case it was more like oranges and trash.
This wasn’t a swipe at the throne not earned- but a cut into a dance designed for two, granted there was nothing to stop Red from getting involved and the pang of rage and jealousy resonating through her ribs, the frustration playing xylophone down the inside of her spine tended to agree…
However, this wasn’t her fight- just in the same way that the Interloper had chosen to take up this mantle not yet laid to rest, feasting like a pretty little vulture before the lions were done with their share. It would have been real easy to step in, to lay waste to all involved like a hurricane was designed to do… However there was no thrill in that, no gain to be had in taking unnecessary punishment when those involved seemed quite enough content to punch each other stupid before the real heavy hitter stepped up to take her swing.

Red had inadvertently become a spectator to a life no longer hers, a fight she’d earned and relinquished without ever actually doing so. No longer the singular focus for a Heroes rage and defiance, she’d become second fiddle and an afterthought in the wake of something a little easier to swallow.
New toys lost their shine real quick though, no longer fun to play with when they stopped twitching under the boot. It wouldn’t take long for the Hero to move on, to decide that a renewed focus meant anything except a short attention span- plenty of other small fry would clamber for the chance to tangle with a hero, as though just avoiding Red might somehow make her vanish into dust from sheer willpower.

Some things were always worth waiting for and Red wasn’t the type to let up the pressure on a victim's throat just cause they were turning an ugly shade of blue. Reluctantly, Red dragged her legs back onto the rooftop, slipping quietly to her feet- growing bored of the charade below, the pantomime would have it's consequences only to be swept under the rug at the first sign of negative repercussion.

Another menace off the streets.

Another win for the good guys.

God, Red wanted to be sick.

With a sideways glance and twitch of disgust in her lip, Red left the quarrelling masses to their games… Of course there was a choice to be made, however not making one at all would prove to be a far greater message in the long run. Rubberized footsteps padded across the concrete as Red’s thick tresses of crimson cascaded around her face, the momentary twitch of her lip dying on the edge of a wry smile.

Evil was a lot of things- but mostly, it was subjective. So many thought themselves to be the greatest of it- like that was something to be admired instead of a target for the next edgelord looking to rub one out to their own self-serving misery.
Perhaps one day they’d all understand that indifference in the face of choice was a far greater evil than anything this fucking place could ever muster.

Indifference in the face of choice was a far greater evil than anything this fucking place could muster.



******



“I’m a firm believer in things like balance and karma.

Even in a place like this- between all the debaucherous and narcissistic personalities trying to lord over a place that don’t happen to believe in true democracy, there lies a carefully weighted scale of lawful good and chaotic evil.
Unseen and yet ever-adapting if only so that a certain equilibrium might continue to be upheld- every action must have it's equal and opposite reaction, every personality from the brash and outspoken to the mild-mannered and meek of heart having it's negative form to keep this place on an even keel.

Two sides. One coin.

Heroes in arms like dancing hurricanes stained in scarlet. Seems like for the longest time Hero, we’ve been acknowledged as opposites of a tumbling, albeit useless currency like pennies on the dollar. If anything, it's actually become quite poetic  when you take the time to consider our trajectories to this moment and how we manage to differ so much in our sameness.
Deny as you might, everyone else out there sees it except you… that many people can’t surely be wrong, although as soon as we square up for one last time I’m sure to be proven wrong. I mean- you gotta figure Hero… when you’re the only common denominator to every shitty thing happening in your life, you have to start considering that you might just be the issue.

Of course you’ll be the first in line to tell any listening soul that I’m full of shit, that you can't possibly be anything like me cause I’m the fucking anti-thesis of everything good and decent, of everything pure and worth saving in this cesspool you lord so freely over. Of everything you STILL try to claim you represent- go and pull the other leg Hero, cause you’re the only one left believing that spiel.
Time and time again you’ve failed to uphold those ethical guidelines of yours like a proper hypocrite, busy walking around calling everyone else out on their shit while you seemingly forgot to tuck a few skeletons back in your closet.

Keep ducking and weaving though, distract yourself with something a little softer on your knuckles and less likely to cut to the bone with a well placed truth. I’m sure there's a barely sentient yeast infection out there desperately trying to get your attention- and for once I’m not referring to your wife.
Anything to keep your mind off me right?

A welcome distraction, a little something on the side to take the edge off, to make you still feel as sharp as you ever have while all those around you blunt those edges to keep you kiddie friendly. Thing is, you let a plague rat breed instead of just crushing it's skull when you first had the chance- now you’re wondering why there's a goddamn pandemic.

I mean feel free to blame me, granted the bandwagons getting a little full but for you, sweet Hero, I’ll always make a space. Thing is, there's something about this that's getting me a little sore… and I can assure you, it's not the idea of how much hand sanitizer it's going to take to feel clean after watching you tangle with a a bag of dicks trying to play the ‘big bad wolf… No, it's the fact you keep letting this stupid fucking idea that you’re somehow the good guy interfere with just doing what needs to be done…

All of this, everything… Me, standing here right now, probably outside your house cause you sure as hell aren't going to stop me… It could have been avoided, you could have changed the timeline and instead you get tangled in this web of goodness that only applies when there's someone to hold you accountable. When the lights aren't shining, you’ll level every piece of shit like they’re condemned buildings, you’ll get on your soapbox and declare that you’re making a difference. No filters, no social media proofing, no pretending to be decent when you’d much rather tear that rats head from it's soft, shitty little body. No excuses.

Where the fuck is that Hero?

What do I have to do to find that Hero in the dark?

How many people do you think that Hero could have saved from this Interloper, this dime store angel of death marked for clearance cause lets face it- Red just ain’t a colour you can properly replicate on a budget. How many of those you hold so near could have been spared if you stopped caring more about your image than the fact that everything you claim to care about was falling into cinder.
You think you look cool stepping through those ashes, flecks of everything you love sweeping up around your cheap cape so you can capture that whirlwind of chaos in tragic slow motion- yeah, and you say you aren’t a damn thing like me…

Heroes are supposed to save people, but you’ve hurt far more than that ridiculous Interloper and her never-weres could even fantasize about- and you have the gall to deny, to keep dragging more and more people into this black hole of dissent.
Did any of them deserve this Hero? A fate you’ve passed on cause sympathy never goes out of style.

Were they ever more than just pawns, more than collateral damage to be used and discarded?

I’m more than a nasty infection somewhere unmentionable, the reason you get up during the night and complain that it stings when you pee and it takes more than a hefty dose of antibiotics and a strong stomach for the retch of ammonia to clean up the mess I’m willing to create in the wake of your continued ignorance.
I’ve slipped between the sinews and synapses- taken up residence rent-free in that dark corner of your mind that you always kept ready, just in case.

Maybe the Interloper was a little bit of fun for a while but I’m always going to be your main, try to play me as a side piece and I’ll blow you away. It's bad enough you don’t bother respecting me- but I won’t stand by and remain second priority, staring longing through a window while you snuggle with your new demons while I contemplate just how many pieces I might break everything into.

I’ll always have your eyes- only now, I’ve decided that I no longer want to share.

Oh, by the way...
 
Your little boy, he really is quite delightful. You should be so very proud.

… It’s just a shame that he’s running out of parents fast.”





******



Part #5: The Prizefighter



The Succubi’s Cup
Sin City
01.11.2020
8:52pm



“Hey, ‘nother one?”

To think, with almost a shit eating grin, that this was the closest thing to verbal acknowledgement Red had received since walking into the bar. A curt nod returned, and the glass in front of her seemingly magically refilled as it had continued to do- the haphazard pile of notes strewn across the surface became a few less as the bartender picked through it with a smirk.
Were the drinks incredibly overpriced? Probably.
Was the atmosphere akin to a funeral where all the attendees despised the deceased- absolutely.
Did she care about any of that outside of the fact that her glass remained full of a home brew swill that might peel paint from the walls should she even breathe in their direction- not at all.
Maybe that's why she liked this place- unlike Sin City, no one cared who you were outside their walls, they didn’t gather and exchange tragic life stories while sobbing into fruity cocktails… All that mattered was that you paid your bill and kept your head down.

In this case though, Red’s eyes weren’t fixed to the floor- although she was sure that might massively help with the wavering of her equilibrium and the faint metallic taste on the back of her tongue, instead she was fixated on a television plagued with lines of flickering static cutting through an already poor quality picture.
A news report, as though that were unusual- places like this kept the antiquated forms of media in business far longer than they should have, newspaper stands on the corner prospered in the face of uncertainty and television stations made a killing on the conga line of tragedy that seemed to weave through the streets.
Cutting from a generic news room floor and middle aged universally handsome anchor, the image changed into the haze of a public rally- as though the deja vu didn't do anything more than make her feel further ill.

At it's head, speaking into a microphone with a thinly veiled arrogance that made Red want to instinctively put her fist through the fucking screen, a woman… Very pretty, well dressed and with the proper kind of posture you know must be practised day in and day out for moments like these- golden blonde tendrils fell around her shoulders and her gaze seemed to permeate through the captivated- if not just bored- crowd of presumed supports.
Elections were commonplace here, challenger after challenger came after the proverbial throne as though entitlement made then any more relatable, spewing diatribe about the fact THEY would be the only ones to make real CHANGE in this place.
Diatribe after intelligence insulting diatribe whipped the crowd into a frenzy as though the place didn’t need more ineffectual vigilantes and wanna be bad guys looking for a cheap thrill only to be left wishing for universal healthcare instead.

It wasn’t the candidate that really captured Reds attention- but a figure in the front row, back to the film crew with a shock of crimson trailing down her back. Funny, really how Heroes always found themselves drawn to people they couldn’t better and things they couldn't change- determined but entirely foolish to consider that anyone might just simply stop and listen to occasional reasonable but otherwise hare-brained schemes. Of course the Hero was there- there wasn’t a single way she could avoid getting involved, just like with everything else.
Heaven forbid that the Hero, as delightful and successful as she might have been, not be included in some important happenings within the city borders, forget confidential information cause the need to know was more of a ‘I’m the hero so just go along with it’ kinda stance.

It certainly didn’t help that the Prizefighter was also the wife of the Hero, even the best makeup artists couldn’t cover the blooming bruises and scrapes from the street scrap with the Interloper, if you looked hard enough for them of course. Side by side, lovers in arms against the evils of the world- if it wasn’t so nauseating and cliche, Red might have managed to appreciate it as much as she appreciated the burn of terrible liquor before, that too, made her want to dry wretch into a dumpster behind the building.

God, it could be easy. Public, plenty of cover, a thousand witnesses with no one seeing a damn thing. Stupidly easy. Red wondered how the Hero might react- would she rise to the occasion in a fiery vengeance or collapse beneath the weight of grief, would she come back stronger and greater like Red had always hoped she would or wallow in the self-loathing knowing that, this too, was something that she could have prevented if she just fucking acted.
Silently, Red contemplated as the scratchy TV volume made the rally almost unintelligible at best and downright irritating at worst- really she didn't need to hear anything to know what was being said, blame passing like it was a parcel at a childs birthday, excuses out the fucking wazoo and misdirection with a fluttering of the eyes and wiggle of the hips.

Really though, it was just another big mouth trying to speak on something they weren’t equipped to understand, pointing the finger at the nearest evil poking its head out from behind a tree in hopes that the lynch mob would blindly follow and big-noting the little she'd achieved in hopes that the collective memory didn’t stretch as far back as her own.

Granted it’d be really fucking satisfying too...

Quick, albeit a little messy.

Red could see it now, watching tainted and misinformed words turn to blood and bile bubbling from her mouth like a macabre fountain dedicated to the god of ignorance and arrogance alike. Screams would echo through the streets, tears would flow as readily as blood into the gutters and the Hero, oh the darling Hero, she’d frozen in place with the realization that she’d failed… yet again… to save someone she cared about, and all because she simply refused to act when given the opportunity.
She’d been warned far too many times already- perhaps this is what it would take for the message to finally sink in.

Red swirled her drink in the glass trying to ignore the heavy fingerprint parks staining the rim, amber fluid kissed the edges of the glass as the acrid fumes burned at her eyes, the Prizefighter enraptured the crowds with a smile and the promise of hope, of a brighter future under her guidance…
It was astounding really, just how easy it was to lie to the masses, to sow the seeds of something that couldn’t possibly be executed…

It’d be easy.

Easy wasn’t worth it though. Easy wasn’t fulfilling or rewarding. Easy didn’t slake a bloodthirst or indulge the primal need for rampage and disorder. Easy was comfortable and expected- it held your hand, it guided the way down a well lit path to nowhere satisfying.
No, fuck doing anything easy.
Easy hadn’t gotten her this far- it hadn’t brought a Hero to her knees crawling through the mire and it hadn’t taken a city and forced it into the palms of Red’s bloodstained hands.
Maybe the Prizefighter, the challenger to the city's greatest crown, was indeed a prime target… A lasting shot at the heart of a Hero guarding her treasures like a misguided dragon valuing all the wrong things.

Self-sabotage. An overwhelming desire to prove herself worthy when she had no leg to stand on when the spotlight shined brightest. A mouth that spoke far greater volumes than her abilities and a penchant for doublespeak, half truths and victimization.
With a hard cringe, Red downed her drink in a searing mouthful- her senses overloaded in white hot acridity, blinded from the inside out until the harsh fluid traced down her throat like paint thinner made barely potable.
It was almost disappointing really, that Red would have to do absolutely nothing except watch the Prizefighter fail when it mattered the most.

No doubt, that alone would crush the Hero... her hopes riding on someone near and dear doing better, being better than an expectation that wasn’t theirs to strive for. Another fucking sidekick stepping out of their lane, wanting so badly to be a Hero without accepting that there were consequences to such foolish action.
Staring into the faintly staticed version of the back of the Heroes head, she could already envision the disappointment that would creep through her features- it was the same disappointed the Hero would have seen staring up from the cold pavement the first time she’d tangled with Red, the same disappointment that had been covered in blood and glitter when the Hero made the ill-advised decision to open up the playing field for collateral damage, the same disappointment that would be mirrored by everyone holding the Prizefighter to a standard that wasn’t hers to strive for…

Most importantly though, the same disappointment that Red would mirror once this whole thing was over and there would be nothing left to take from a fallen, dishonoured Hero.



******



“How much do you think a bucket of good intentions weighs?

Is it something akin to the weightlessness of hope and uplifting euphoria of true altruism, or does it remind you of concrete boots dragging you beneath the waves of just fucking being better. It's supposed to save you Hero, all that unconditional love and support is supposed to keep you buoyant and yet you’re struggling to keep your head above the rising waters… Too busy trying to hold up those that keep on dragging you down.
Must really suck being married to someone who can never live up to expectation- all that hard work cultivating this image, whispers in the right ears all for nought cause someone with such a big mouth who is in absolutely no position to speak her mind as much as she does keeps throwing it all down the garbage disposal cause her name doesn't get mentioned often enough.

See, your dutiful wife only seems to have your best interests at heart… Right after her own of course, right after using you to try to clean up her mess- the one she’d gladly palm off to any passer-by who looked at her the wrong way.
Accountability? Yeah, not a strong suit in your household is it, Hero…
She seems to think it's my fault that you’re in this position- like she has any right to talk about anything except over bleaching one's hair and calories. She can talk about knocking me the fuck out all she likes, but the last thing of relevance she knocked over was a stack of stale Big Macs.

Five second rule still applies when the consumer is far more cultured than the floor, right?

Bacterially, I mean.

She seems to have this notion that I’m to blame for you being driven to distraction Hero, that it's somehow my fault that you’d rather play with your food instead of smearing it across the cityscape cause that guano was all over her hands from the get go.
It's not my fault that you’d rather do anything else than listen to her squawk about another inevitable fuck up she’s made.

Between you and me, I’d tell you to cut the dead weight. Let those concrete boots fall to the bottom of the ocean rather than swallowing sea water so someone else can use that precious air to complain that their silicone assets are the worst flotation devices they ever invested in.
To tell you that you deserve better is to tell a person to keep breathing, it's incredibly obvious but the reminder never goes astray. I always believed you were holding back, that you were being held back Hero… So busy holding onto sentimental things and people that you forgot what truly mattered, too busy catering to those tugging on your cape that you couldn't see the brick wall you were flying head on into.

You’re trying to be something for everyone, spreading yourself so thin you don’t leave enough meat on the bones to make it worthwhile anymore.

It's really quite sad that it takes having to drag everyone down with us for you to start taking this a little more seriously…

To think, I’ve given you nothing but my full attention this whole time and you’d rather try multitasking like I’m just one of your chores to be completed, a check mark on a to-do list of mundanity and futile attempts to act normal in the face of the world demanding gallantry.
I thought this was special- and yet you’d rather prioritize everyone else's messes over the manifestation of your continued failures rising up to face you down, we are forever entwined Hero and I’m no longer contented to wait for my couple of minutes in the sun when you think you can just remember I exist.
Our dance with death, entwined to the point that the knots in our chests got caught on the hearts on our sleeves and we’ve got nothing left to do, but cut them off.

Was it not enough for you Hero?
Was I not enough for you?

Tell me truthfully, what is it I have to do to make you understand that I’m not just another conquest- that you can’t just swoop in when you have a minute and bat your eyelashes at me like I’m gonna melt into a puddle. I ask for respect, and you shrug me off cause you’re running behind on your errands and that subversive succubus you wed so readily can’t be trusted not to burn the place down in your absence.
There's a reason we childproof houses- but they didn’t take into account those who never mentally grew beyond selfish, conceited, entitled teenagers…
Personally, I fully endorse Darwinism- you know, survival of the fittest, and the ones who can go fifteen minutes without making their spouse regret every decision they ever made.

Just shed all those affiliations like you’re shedding your skin, I promise it's the only way you’ll ever step toe to toe with me and feel like you actually got anything accomplished besides leaving me all kinds of disappointed… again. Do you think any of them are running to your aid in the same way you’ve done for them? They all got what they wanted from you Hero- a goody two shoes to clean up all the mistakes and pat them on the back reassuringly, a savior in the dark when the night light has run out of batteries, a friend to the end… but only when it's convenient for them.
Hell if it's any consolation- I bet they’ll all say nice things at the funeral, right after they bitch and moan that they now have to find someone else to latch onto. Parasites don’t live long without a host, remember… They don’t stick around to mourn the loss, they move on and start all over again cause that's just their nature.

We can’t blame them for that, but it doesn’t make it sting any less.

All those people you swore to protect, the ones worth sacrificing everything for, the ones worth saving…

Where are they now, Hero?

And why is it I’m always the only one left…”




******



Part #6: The Hero



Undisclosed Location
Sin City
08.11.2020
4:36am



“I thought we were beyond using tricks and deception”

A Hero in the dark always looked more like a villain than any bad guy could manage, like the virtuous side of the coin seeking out their duplicitous mirror image. Shadows danced in empty streets as passing cars didn’t even dare slow for a moment for fear they might be consumed by an impending storm- stars swallowed one by one by a rolling wall of darkened clouds devouring an inky sky.
No doubt a storm was coming, inevitable and woefully unavoidable.

“Dragging people in that aren’t involved, using them like bait to try and draw me out”

Echoing in the void, the Hero’s voice sounded almost disembodied before disappearing entirely into the void of the concrete jungle. A game of cat and mouse although the roles were far more ambiguous than they were feline. Red watched the Hero pace determinedly- the perfect target, the perfect moment. It was as though the stars were aligning overhead even though the sky was being swallowed whole.

“This is between you and me”

It always had been, Red furrowed her brow as she shifted in the gloom as though subconsciously mimicking the Hero’s deliberate pacing. It was always supposed to be just them, however in typical fashion things had gotten out of hand- blame had been shifted as though the door hadn't initially been opened by another.
Red had only acted in accordance and yet somehow the record books were reflecting a truth that never happened- the Hero had been the first to involve outside parties, the first to accept assistance in a fight that wasn't theirs to be involved in, it was the fucking Hero who started all this and now had the audacity to stand in the open and declare otherwise.

This Hero, this fucking mistaken martyr buying into her own propaganda, this false saint of the Sin City…

She deserved everything she had coming.

Red slipped closer, she could almost heart the Hero’s pulse now- deafening in her veins. Hell, she could almost feel it as it fell into sync with her own.

“You know what Red? I think it's time this finally stops.”

Perhaps the Hero had found a backbone between the couch cushions, an ability to make a decision without filtering it through every one of the sycophants that crowded at her feet eagerly as though desperate to be the next one stood upon. Red couldn't help but smile, not because of her words… Those were empty and hollow as the threats of violence made by the Prizefighter before another inevitable failure. No, it was pride… the idea that perhaps, finally, the Hero would be willing to just do something. That she’d admit her hands were as sullied as any other, that the stain of blood didn’t wash away no matter how much she tried, that she’d FINALLY give Red everything she had instead of the watered down version of heroism she’d been drip fed till now.

“All the violence and bloodshed- it has to stop.”

It could have stopped long before now, Red mused as the dying lights fell just short of where she watched, it could have been over at any time if only the Hero hadn't dragged proceedings out. That was the problem with valor and valiance in this godforsaken place, it constantly needed to be fed, to be nurtured… There always had to be a dragon to slay and a princess to save, even if the dragon had never torched a village and the princess was a cu-

“No more games, no more tricks, no more innocent people getting hurt.”

It was getting exciting now, almost real.

“I will finish this fight.”

Of course she would, Red contemplated with a disenchanted curl in her lip, just like every other fucking time she’d promised before.





******



“What a surprise, right?

Big talking Hero has something important to say- here to regale us all with tales of benevolence and telling us all how we can be better people, only part you’re forgetting my dear is the part where you tell everyone to disregard everything you say cause it's full of shit.
Come on and pull the other leg Hero- do you honestly believe that anyone sees you in that light anymore, that you’re still the white knight in a black light city, you’ve shown your hand and now the world is calling your bluff.

If it weren’t for you Hero- the Good Doctor, the Saccharine Songbird, the Prizefighter… Literally everyone else you happen to care about, they’d all be better off. They’d all have never witnessed the horrors nor suffered the consequences of your continued defiance of literally doing the one thing that would have saved them all.
If it weren't for you Hero, this whole place might be a little brighter- might function a little better instead of waiting for approval to do good by someone who lost sight of what was considered ‘good’ a long time ago.
Still, night after night you pull on that facade and make the whole world feel a little better about themselves until they realize they are far deeper in the muck than before.

Who the fuck else do I have to hurt to get you to understand- you wanna stop me so badly, oh Hero, then stop pretending like you’re any better than me simply cause you throw on a fucking cape and tell everyone how goddamn great everyone thinks you are.
You blew every chance I ever gave you, every opportunity handed to you in an effort to prove that maybe I was wrong- cause I truly wanted to be wrong, honestly. Part of me wanted to believe in your hype, to feel as though there was the chance that maybe- just maybe, I too, could be saved.

Lets be honest- I don't deserve half the chances this life has afforded me, I shouldn’t be here staring into the abyss begging a Hero to be just that. I am though, I am and I’m making everyone around me pay for it with every breath I take… and you let me.
Yet I’m the fucking villain. Right?
It's nature vs nurture Hero- you can’t breed out violence, you can’t completely tame the wild. A scorpion, despite all it's sweet talking and earnest swearing will always plunge it's stinger into a frogs back because it's a fucking scorpion.

I’m like a cancer Hero, I’m like gangrene in the limbs- and you let it spread. You could have cut it off at the fingers, but instead you chose to keep the pinky cause it just meant well… Now it's creeping into all the important spots and you’re still mourning the loss of that hand.
Maybe there's no cure, that you couldn’t have stopped me all along- but the world will see, will know that you barely tried. That in the moments when you could have proven yourself as everything you’re proclaimed to be, you shied away and turned the other cheek. I hope that's the way history remembers you Hero, I hope it's immortalized on every statue and plaque that ever bears your likeness- that you stand as a monument to what could have been, your path studied in the future as a cautionary tale.

Who knows, maybe in the end, I’m the hero after all.

I’m the one who has brought about change, the one exposing frauds and failures for what they are rather than celebrating mediocrity like it's honestly the best we can do. I’ve done more for this place in the last six months Hero, than you’ve managed in years… Change, real change, the kind that makes people sit up and pay attention- it's not actually that difficult, you just have to be willing to sacrifice… to let heads roll. What we’re willing to do for a cause defines us, defines the way we’re acknowledged- I’ve never claimed to do good, I never promised to make this place better…

But I did.

And I will.

I’m sick of walking around here pretending like it's utopia when we’re all pissing in the gutters, treading carefully cause the hopeless sprawl out in the streets among the dead. I shouldn’t have to be kicking down the door of a Hero to make them live up to their name, taking down person after god forsaken person cause they happen to think my choice of action is a little harsh.
I’m sick to death of everyone standing against me, when I seem to be the only person who actually thinks that we deserve better than below average- and if I have to kick the head off every stupid fucking person who thinks that their the next big vigilante on the block then so be it…

Let them come, let them fall.

You walk these streets like you own them Hero, but they no longer belong to you. Hope is but a buzzword and the praise is dying into whispers. You were once revered here, adulation heaped on you cause it had no where else to go… but the people, they start to believe in themselves now, cause theres no reason left to believe in you.
Maybe you finally falling from your pedestal is the best thing that could ever happen to this place.

Fact is Hero, this is my Sin City now. These are my streets, the crown may belong to another but truth be told, it's just a matter of time…
I hope you aren’t holding out for anyone to save you darling, I hope you don’t cry out into the night seeking solace from the dark- I have no solace for you, no mercy left to offer. I may have spared you twice, but what sets us apart is that I’ve learned from my mistakes and I’m no longer willing to leave anything to chance.
See, there's a storm coming Hero… a storm that will cleanse this city of it's Heroes, of it's martyrs, of it's false idols and failed stars, a storm that no longer cares what might be left in its wake- only that this place will have its first real chance in a very long time to rebuild without the influence of a vigilante nightmare determined to be remembered as something they no longer represent.

I want you to understand Hero…

I never wanted things to be this way.

... but I won't stand by like you and lie, saying I never expected it.”





******


Finale:




Sin City Underground
Sin City
22.11.2020
5:57pm



‘A heRo WiLL SAvE uS aLL’

Scrawled on the underground wall, a woman in a black hoodie watched a thick red drip, trace down the wall, following growing cracks that widened further by the day. No one else seemed to really pay much attention to the wall, nor the stationary woman, too busy hustling to get to nowhere in particular faster than the next commuter. A continued sublimated race towards a literal deadline.
Viscous in scarlet, the woman cocked her head slightly- the rest of the world would never appreciate these words, nor the cost they’d come at. To them, it wasn't art… it wasn't important. It was an eyesore, a nuisance without nuance.

She appreciated them though, even if it were simply acknowledgement that heroes still existed in the hearts of those willing to express themselves.

From amid the throng, separating from the mass of humanity shuffling towards the edge of their own mortal coils- an old man toddled up beside the woman. Maybe he didn’t mean to, maybe he just didn’t care. She could smell him before she caught him on the edge of her vision- faintly musty and wearing cologne that hadn’t been produced in 40 odd years, his pressed clothes wrinkled with the hunches in his posture while the clack of a walk stick fell silent as he sighed beside her.

“... What an absolute disgrace.”

Saying nothing, the woman nodded in acknowledgement. Sharing an almost special moment with a stranger, his gravity stricken features displayed a haughty scowl, eyes greyed and bloodshot behind glasses a little too big for his sunken face meanwhile while she remained almost pensive, staring through the red on the wall.
Shaking his head in dismay, the clacking resumed as he slowly disappeared back into the fast moving river of power suits and prowling tourists, soon swallowed back among them as though he’d never existed outside of it.

“Yeah, a travesty indeed.”

She knew he was referring to the graffiti and the sheer insolence of a human being to deface a wall with such... nothings. Public property stained with someone's incomplete thought process. However her own views were left a little more ambiguous if only by her rather impassive expression- brushing some crimson from her own face, a faint mark of red left a streak across her cheek. Thick, familiar and faintly translucent… Just like that, which dripped down the subway wall.

Red wondered how long it might take for the world to tell the difference, her bruised lip curling upwards into a knowing smirk. Blood had been used for centuries to send a message- it was the ability for the world to listen, to notice that had changed with the times.
No doubt the Hero would have been disappointed that the last of what she had left to give could be ignored so effortlessly by a society that had once fawned over their every word, her sacrifice just like all the others… meaningless in a grander scheme.

With a faint chuckle, almost masked entirely by the forced chatter of idle conversation around her- Red disappeared amid the crowd, waiting, watching for yet another fucking Hero to believe that they could be the one who could finally kill a hurricane painted Red.


Record
SCW: 15 - 4 - 1
Uprising: 8 - 2 - 0
Life: 0 - 1 - 0</span>

Offline Roxi Johnson

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Re: Amber Ryan v Roxi Johnson - Last Woman Standing
« Reply #4 on: November 20, 2020, 11:37:13 PM »
{Our scene opens days after the final battle with Sin. Roxi has recovered and finally was released by the guild doctors, along with Keira. After all that has happened, Roxi and Keira are moving a little gingerly as they still recover. Both lay in bed, still mentally and physically exhausted. Their sleep is brought to a halt as Nate enters the room and climbs on the bed. He snuggles in between them for a moment, and then begins to push up against them.}

 

Nate – Mommy. Mama. Wake up! Wake up!

 

{Roxi is the first to wake up reaching for a non-existent alarm before she opens her eyes fully, and rubs them. She weakly smiles seeing Nate’s face. Keira rolls over, still tired.}

 

Nate – Mommy? Are you awake?

 

Roxi – Yes baby, I’m awake.

 

{Nate looks over at Keira, trying to wake her up by pushing on her back.}

 

Keira – Ugh... 5 more minutes.

 

{Nate giggles and he starts to push on Keira’s back even more.}

 

Keira – Okay... okay... 

 

{Keira rolls back over and hugs Nate tightly before kissing him on the head.}

 

Keira – What are you doing up so early?

 

Nate – I'm hungry. 

 

Keira – Where's gramma?

 

Nate – She goed to the store.

 

{Keira sighs.}

 

Keira – Alright, you go play for a few minutes, and we’ll make you some breakfast, okay?

 

Nate – Okay.

 

{Nate goes to get off the bed, but Roxi grabs him and cuddles with him. Nate giggles as Roxi kisses him.}

 

Roxi – I love you. 

 

Nate - I love you Mommy. I love you too, Mama.

 

Keira - I love you.

 

{Roxi lets Nate off the bed before sitting up. Nate wanders out of the room before Keira lays back down and rolls over to face Roxi.}

 

Keira – Tell me that wasn’t a dream.

 

Roxi – It doesn’t feel like it, does it?

 

Keira – No. Not at all.

 

Roxi – Then I think it’s real.

 

Keira – So... we really did it?

 

Roxi – Yeah, we did. 

 

Keira – I don’t even know what to do anymore. 

 

Roxi – Me neither.

 

Keira – I haven’t slept this much in a long time. And I still feel like crap. I can’t imagine how I’d feel without powers right now.

 

Roxi – Yeah... I know. But... duty calls.

 

Keira – Ugh.

 

{Roxi rolls over and sits up at the edge of the bed. She gingerly plants her feet on the floor and stands up fully, stretching and then instantly wincing in pain.

 

Roxi – Ow... Still not fully healed yet. 

 

Keira – Be careful.

 

Roxi – Yeah, yeah.

 

{Roxi slowly moves around the bed, looking at the vanity mirror sitting on the desk where the two would do their makeup.}

 

Keira – You gonna be okay?

 

Roxi – I hope so.

 

Keira – I meant for the match against Amber.

 

Roxi – I guess... as ready as I’ll ever be.

 

{Keira eventually sits up on the bed.}

 

Keira – I just... I want to say thank you.

 

Roxi – For?

 

Keira – Everything. Nothing seems real to me anymore. I feel this huge weight lifted off my shoulders and I don’t know what to do anymore. It’s like... everything is just... right, right now.

 

Roxi – You don’t need to thank me for that. That was pretty much all you. I may have helped, but you proved that you can do some extordinary things. 

 

Keira – Thanks but... I couldn’t do it without you. I... I don’t think I’d be in this championship match without you.

 

Roxi – You did that on your own. I didn’t help you do any of that. It was you. You are a hero, Keira. You are my equal, in life, and in the ring. Don’t let anybody tell you differently. 

 

Keira – I just... I’m worried now about you.

 

{Roxi turns back to Keira.}

 

Roxi – You don’t need to worry about me.

 

Keira – That’s not going to make it any better. You are hurt, and you are going into this match against Amber at less than 100%. And I feel like that’s my fault for having you with me against Sin.

 

Roxi – Keira, I would have been there regardless of having a match or not. That’s what we do. I may not be 100%, but I don’t have the choice to postpone the match because I’m not feeling well. It has to be done, and it has to be this way.

 

Keira – I know but -

 

Roxi – No. We’re beyond this now. This is my fight. We agreed when this whole thing started that we would allow the other to fight their battles. This is how it has to be, Keira. I know you’re worried, but we’ve had this conversation already. It’s time for me, to finally end this, before it ends up getting worse.

 

Keira – How much worse could it get?

 

Roxi – That’s a question I hope I don’t have to answer. Look, let’s just focus on what we have in front of us now. Okay? No more worrying, we have reason to celebrate. Things are looking up.

 

Keira – Yeah... yeah I guess you’re right.

 

{Keira stands up and she stretches as well. The pain increases for her just the same.}

 

Keira – Shit...

 

Roxi – Language.

 

Keira – Maybe a warm shower will help. 

 

Roxi – Maybe.

 

{Keria slowly makes her way over to where Roxi is seated and hugs her and kisses her on the head.}

 

Keira – I love you.

 

Roxi – I love you too. 

 

Keira – Thank you for believing in me. 

 

Roxi – Always.

 

{Keira smiles as she gingerly walks to head to the shower. Roxi eventually gets up and walks out of the bedroom and into the kitchen and begins to make Nate breakfast, along with herself and Keira. She pulls eggs out of the refrigerator and greases up a frying pan before turning on the burner. She cracked the eggs and puts them in the frying pan and then grabs a loaf of bread and puts 4 slices into the toaster. She begins to gather paper plates, napkins and utensils to use and puts them on the table. As she waits, her mother opens the door with plastic bags full of groceries.}

 

Roxi– Hi Mom.

 

Elizabeth – Hello.

 

Roxi – What’s with the shopping trip.

 

Elizabeth – Well, you know we’re probably going to go back into lockdown soon with all the stuff going on. So, I figured, before you run out of everything, might as well stock up. 

 

Roxi – This seems like a lot.

 

Elizabeth – You can never have too much. Plus, this isn’t everything.

 

Roxi – You have more?

 

Elizabeth – I’ve seen Keira eat. 

 

Roxi – Fair.

 

Elizabeth – Also, I got some stuff for Nicole, I’ll probably end up taking the stuff over there as well.

 

Roxi – Good thinking. 

 

Elizabeth – She’s probably going crazy over at her house.

 

Roxi – She doesn’t like to be cooped up. So, probably. 

 

{Roxi flips the eggs as they continue to fry.}

 

Elizabeth – You know, you should invite her over here.

 

Roxi – Nicole can come any time she wants. She has an open invitation.

 

Elizabeth – I know, but it is nice to actually tell her that from time to time. 

 

Roxi – Fine, fine, I will call her and tell her. I’m sure she’ll be around for Thanksgiving.

 

Elizabeth – And your father?

 

Roxi – Dad is always welcome, too. He... He just likes to be alone nowadays. I don’t know. Maybe he’s just comfortable with all that’s gone on.

 

{Elizabeth sighs. She begins putting the groceries away as a way to distract herself.}

 

Elizabeth – I know.  He’s just been so distant.

 

Roxi – Maybe you should talk to him. 

 

Elizabeth – I couldn’t do that.

 

Roxi – Look, I know that things are... different now. I mean, he still checked on you when you were home alone. He still cares for you. And you did marry him.

 

Elizabeth – He’s a teddy bear. But that’s not the point. I can’t change the past. I try not to think about what could have been. That was then, and we’re just at different points. We can’t go back. 

 

Roxi – But you can change the future. Even if it’s for him. Just give it some thought, huh?

 

{Elizabeth sighs again.}

 

Elizabeth – Alright, twist my arm.

 

Roxi – If I have to bring him here myself, I will. 

 

Elizabeth – I know, I know. Anyway, let me go and drop these off to Nicole.

 

Roxi – Are you sure? I can do it.

 

Elizabeth – Roxi, I have watched both you and Keira stumble your way through this house for the past few days. Whatever it is you two did, you need to rest. I’m sorry for leaving Nate, I figured he would still be asleep by the time I got back.

 

Roxi – It’s fine, and we’re fine. 

 

Elizabeth – The point is, you need to rest. I can handle this, I’m older, not elderly, and I’m not crippled.

 

{Roxi finally throws up her hands as she heads back to finish making the eggs and place more toast in the toaster.}

 

Roxi – Yes, Mother.

 

Elizabeth – Good. I’ll be back soon.

 

{Elizabeth then finishes putting the groceries away as she folds the plastics bags and places them in a drawer. She grabs her purse and soons exits, as Roxi places a single egg on a plate, along with a piece of toast, buttered and with cinnamon on it.}

 

Roxi – Nate. Your breakfast is ready.

 

{Nate wanders in and sits at the table in front of his plate. Roxi slowly begins to cut his egg with a fork, and Nate notices her struggling.}

 

Nate – Mommy, are you okay?

 

Roxi – Yes, baby. Just a little tired. 

 

{Roxi smiles at Nate as he begins to eat. Roxi finishing making a plate of eggs for Keira and soon enough she emerges, and three sit down to eat a family breakfast, something they have not done in a while, as the scene fades.}

 




{We transition to later at night after Roxi and Keira have put Nate to bed. It isn’t long after that, that there is a call on their wrist communicators.}

 

Keira – Oh no...

 

Roxi – Duty calls.

 

{Roxi answers the call.}

 

Roxi – Go ahead Vision.

 

Vision – You guys okay?

 

Roxi – Not really, but what’s up?

 

Vision – We've gotten some suspicious activity in your sector. People smelling a foul odor and then becoming very groggy. The shop shows no gas leaks, so... it sounds like someone may be messing with something out there.

 

Roxi – Alright, we’ll look into it.

 

{Roxi ends the call and the two quickly go to suit up. It isn’t long before they arrive at the building. Both can smell the order, so they quickly attach quasi-gas masks to their masks, and step in. There is a yellowish gas in the air fogging the area of view, but Roxi and Keira push forward}

 

Roxi – See anything?

 

Keira – It's hard when the gas is this dense.

 

{The two move forward and spot a figure working on things, with his back turned. Roxi goes to move forward, but triggers trip wire.}

 

Roxi – Oh no.

 

{Without warning. Three darts enter Roxi’s back and shoulder. She stumbles around, trying to grab onto anything to stay upright.}

 

Keira – LB!

 

{Keira quickly moves towards Roxi and helps her out of the shop. She removes the darts and Roxi lays there groggily.}

 

Keira – Don't worry, I’ll be back as soon as I can.

 

 

{Keira flies back in as the scene fades.}

 

 

 




{The buzzing of the alarm clock slowly wakes Roxi out of sleep. She rolls over and hits the snooze button, and then begins reaching for Keira, who is not there. Roxi opens her eyes, and indeed Keira is nowhere to be seen. There is the noticeable sound from the TV, but Roxi just takes this for granted, and then rolls back over and gets comfortable again in the bed, until she hears footsteps coming towards the door to the bedroom. She naturally assumes this is Keira, but then notices they are heavier than Keira’s normal steps. The door opens and a man familiar to Roxi enters, smiling at Roxi, who sits up. She is confused, frightened, and angry all at the same time.}

 

Man – Just making sure you’re awake.

 

Roxi – WHO ARE YOU? WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?!

 

{The man arches an eyebrow, as he too is confused by Roxi’s questions.}

 

Man – Are you feeling okay?

 

Roxi – ANSWER MY QUESTIONS!

 

Man – Whoa, calm down. It’s me, Ted. Your husband.

 

{Roxi searches her mind and squints. She rubs her eyes and it is indeed her second ever boyfriend, Ted.}

 

Roxi – Ted?

 

Ted – Yeah, hi.

 

Roxi – No... no... you... you’re not Ted. You can’t be!

 

Ted – I am.

 

Roxi – You are dead. You... you tried to attack me and we fell and... 

 

{Ted leans on the door, massively confused.}

 

Ted – Uh... What? What are you talking about? I think you may be remembering a dream.

 

Roxi – No, it wasn’t a dream. It was real. How... how are you alive?

 

Ted – Okay, Roxi, this isn’t funny anymore. You need to get a hold of yourself. You probably just dreamed that.

 

{Ted walks forward and sits on the bed, attempting to hug Roxi, but she pushes him away.}

 

Roxi – What is this? Where’s Keira? Where’s Nate? Where are my parents? 

 

Ted – Whoa, whoa, what are you talking about? Keira? You mean the model? Again, I think you may have had a really vivid dream. Your parents are down in Miami in the assisted living community. I have no idea who Nate is.... Who is Nate?

 

Roxi – Nate is my son. Nothing you’re saying makes any sense! Keira is my wife, and …

 

Ted – Okay... seriously, how much did you have to drink last night? Nothing you’re saying makes any sense either. I’m gonna make you some coffee.

 

Roxi – I DON’T WANT ANY COFFEE! I NEED TO FIND OUT WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON! 

 

{Roxi stands up and marches out of the room, jogging and looking in rooms. Nothing in the house is familiar to her. She frantically looks around, extremly confused. Ted slowly walks into the kitchen where Roxi is, trying to reason with her.}

 

Ted – Roxi, you need to calm down. I think you just had a really vivid dream. Look, look...

 

{Ted holds out a phone that’s ringing.}

 

Roxi – What is this?

 

Ted – It’s your work. 

 

{Roxi takes the phone and answers it.}

 

Roxi – Hello? Christian? Ma – Wait, who is this? Who? … What? A Dog?... I... I’m going to need to call you back.

 

{Roxi hangs up the phone and is still confused.}

 

Roxi – Explain what’s going on here. This is... this is all wrong. I don’t belong here. Did I... switch dimensions or something? I need to call Vision.

 

Ted – Who? Roxi, there is nothing going on here. You went to bed last night and you woke up here. I have no idea what the joke is here, but it’s not funny anymore. I’m worried about you. I’m halfway tempted to call the hospital at this point. You are fine, there is nothing going on. 

 

Roxi – Yes there is... 

 

{Roxi hurries to the bedroom, looking for her wrist communicator and it is nowhere to be found. She searches frantically, but nothing is there. She marches over to the closet and throws it open, looking for her costume, but it too, is gone. Ted cautiously enters the bedroom, standing in the doorway.}

 

Roxi – Where is it?

 

Ted – Where’s what?

 

Roxi – My costume. My things? Where are they?! 

 

Ted – What are you talking about? What costume. Seriously, I am about to call the doctor.

 

Roxi – My costume. My superhero costume. It’s not here. It should be here. WHERE. IS. IT.?

 

Ted – Superhero costume? You are really starting to scare me.

 

{Roxi stops, almost prepared to yell again, but she doesn’t. She ponders the situation, and rubs her face.}

 

Roxi – This... this has got be a dream. It’s got to be dream. I just... I need to wake up. Or... this needs to play out. I’ll wake up soon. Either that or I’m dead... In which case... that makes a lot of sense.

 

{Roxi looks over at Ted.}

 

Roxi – No offense.

 

Ted – I’m not dead! You see me! I’m alive! Roxi, I’m going to call the doctor, right now. I think you’re having a break down.

 

Roxi – No, no this... this is a dream. It has to be. Okay, Okay, I get it. I get it now. Cool. This has to be something with Doctor dream or Clint. Something is going to happen. Something.

 

{Ted gets up to go and call the doctor, but Roxi stops him.}

 

Roxi – No, no it’s fine. It’s fine. I remember now. I’m going to... I’m going to go to work.

 

Ted – Are you sure? You were just talking like a crazy person. 

 

Roxi – No, no I know exactly what’s going on, and I’ll take care of it.

 

{Roxi picks up her phone and calls the number that calls it back.}

 

Roxi – Yeah, it’s Roxi. I’m sorry about earlier, so... what was that about a dog?... okay... okay... Alright, I’ll take care of it.

 

{Roxi ends the call, and gathers her thoughts. She quickly goes to shower and change clothes to get ready. She does so and looks around before trying to find a mask to protect herself, but there isn’t one anywhere around. Ted notices her searching again.}

 

Ted – Need something?

 

Roxi – Yeah, I need a mask if I’m going to be driving around and outdoors.

 

{Ted looks confused again.}

 

Ted – What? Why?

 

{Roxi shakes her head in disbelief.}

 

Roxi – You know, COVID-19. That whole deal?

 

Ted – What the hell is COVID-19?

 

{Roxi pauses herself.} 

 

Roxi – What?

 

Ted – You just said COVID-19. I have no idea what that is.

 

Roxi – Wait...

 

{Roxi heads outside and, there are birds chirping, lawns being mowed on the streets. Traffic is stead up and down the roads. Roxi looks around even more confused before turning around to see Ted standing in the doorway.}

 

Roxi – You mean... there’s no COVID-19 anymore?

 

Ted – Anymore? I don’t know what that even is. There’s no COVID-19 or whatever around here. 

 

Roxi – You... you’ve gotta be kidding me.

 

Ted – No. I’m still calling the doctor.

 

Roxi – I... I need to... get to to work I guess.

 

{Roxi just gets in her car, with her phone, and per her phone conversation, she drives off, headed towards an area. As she drives, she turns on the radio to hear music, and another familiar voice come across.}

 

Radio DJ – It’s all in the Mix 105.1 it’s all the top of the charts, all the time. DJ Teddy Steele here, and coming up with got that brand new Crystal Hilton, most requested song of the day, number one on the charts, “Get Big” it’s all over the place, and you know we got it here for you. You can also catch Crystal performing at the Grammy’s once again hosted by the lovely Mercedes Vargas. after that, we got the new track from Devilition, called “I Remember You” and man it is coming on strong.

 

{The radio goes to advertisements and commercials and Roxi shakes her head.}

 

Roxi – What in the world?

 

{Roxi stops at a McDonald’s and purchases some food before she checks her phone and plugs in the address to her GPS on where she’s supposed to go. She finally makes it there and exits the car, and can hear a dog barking}

 

Roxi – This must be it.

 

{Roxi ventures off the road and into the wooded area, finding a dog tied to a tree.}

 

Roxi – Hey buddy. You okay?

 

{The dog is scared and barks, baring teeth and not wanting anyone near it. Roxi cautiously approaches and kneels down, taking the McDonald’s food bag and opening it.}

 

Roxi – It's okay. I’m here to help. 

 

{Roxi first extends her hand, but the dog continues to bark and has none of what Roxi is offering. Roxi but her hand palm down and the dog is curious, but still scared after a moment, barking even louder and growling.}

 

Roxi – I know, it’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you. Let’s see, here. Let’s try some food. Are you hungry?

 

{Roxi takes the cheeseburger out of the wrapper and begins breaking off pieces and tossing them at the Dog. The dog quickly scoops them up and starts eating them. Gradually, Roxi gets closer and breaking off more bits of burger and feeding the dog. The dog eventually stops barking and Roxi is able to approach it even closer, again extending her hand palm down to show the dog she is not being aggressive. The dog is calm enough for Roxi to pet it, and the dog barks a few more times, shaking in fear, but it does calm down at Roxi pets it.}

 

Roxi – Don't worry. We’re going to get you the help you need. 

 

{Roxi runs her fingers through the dog’s fur, and sees the fleas crawling around, and his front paw with several gashes and wounds.}

 

Roxi – This looks broken. We’re going to have to take you into the vet to get you checked out buddy. 

 

{Roxi finishes the first burger and then takes out the second and continues to feed the dog. He allows Roxi to untie him from the tree, and using the second burger as bait. She is able to lead the dog into her car into the back seat. She rolls the window down, and continues to feed the dog as she again redials the number to her job.}

 

Roxi – Hi. It’s Roxi, I found the dog, he looks in pretty bad shape. Where am I taking him?... Uh huh... alright, got it.

 

{Roxi hangs up, and continues to feed the dog, before opening the third cheeseburger and putting it on the wrapper in the backseat.}

 

Roxi – There you go, buddy. We’re gonna take care of you. 

 

{Roxi drives off with the dog, and drives on her a while, catching Crystal’s and Devilition’s songs, shocked herself at the musical talent.}

 

Roxi – Crazy.

 

DJ Teddy Steele – Yes, one again DJ Teddy Steele here. Coming up we got more of the hits, and we’re going to be talking about celibacy with one Amy Marshall, she’s written a couple of books on it, and you know, maybe it’s not so bad, we’ll hear what she has to say coming up.

 

{The radio cuts to advertisements and commercials again as Roxi, hearing the name of Amy Marshall, almost laughs out loud.}

 

Roxi – Okay, now I know this is a dream. Amy Marshall and celibacy...

 

{Roxi drives on, until she pulls up to her destination. The giant sign that reads “Waters Veterany Clinic” as Roxi turns the car off and exits, taking the dog out with her, and into the clinic itself. She is greeted by the receptionist.}

 

Receptionist – Hello Roxi.

 

Roxi – Hi.

 

Receptionist – I see you have found our friend.

 

Roxi – Yeah. He’s a little shy right now, but I’ll work on him for a bit while you get everything ready.

 

Receptionist – Sure. The doctor will be right out.

 

Roxi – Thanks.

 

{Roxi goes back and sits in the waiting area with the dog. She continues to pet it and talk to it, until a magazine catches her eyes. There, on the cover of Vogue of all things, is Keira, posing for her modeling shot.}

 

Roxi – Keira? What? She’s... a model? She always wanted to be a model...

 

{Roxi is stunned, as she glances through the magazine, nodding at Keira’s figure. That is broken by the television airing.}

 

TV Reporter – As noted, Get ready for a visit from Dr. Amy Jo Smyth as she will be given a speech at the University of South Florida this weekend, documenting her studies and what could be a nobel peace prize winning research into nanopesticidies. She will be speaking on Saturday at around 12 noon.

 

Roxi – This whole place is crazy. 

 

{The dog barks, expecting more treats.}

 

Roxi – Oh, sorry. No offense to you buddy. You’re not crazy. At least not anymore.

 

{Roxi continues to feed the dog and pet it, showing it the affection is needed before the door to the doctor’s office opens and out walks the doctor. Roxi stands up and leads the dog towards the doctor who opens the reception door. Roxi stops, instantly frozen.}

 

Roxi – M... 

 

Doctor – Hi Roxi. Are you okay?

 

Roxi – Mist... Misty?

 

Misty – Hi. It’s good to see you again. 

 

{Misty extends her hand, but Roxi is frozen as she just stares at Misty for a few moments.}

 

Roxi – How....

 

Misty – Roxi, Hey, I need you to help me here. What’s going on with our friend?

 

{The dog barks, bringing Roxi almost out of a trance. Roxi shakes her head and regains her composure}

 

Roxi – I... I.. I think the... leg is broken... fleas... 

 

Misty – Roxi, are you usure you’re okay? Dixie? Dixie can you give Roxi some water please?

 

Dixie– Sure.

 

{Without ever really noticing it, Roxi is handed a cup of water. She drinks it and then goes right back to staring at Misty, only kind of helping as Misty checks the dog.}

 

Misty – Okay, let’s see, yeah, we got fleas. Alright let’s look at that paw. Yeah, we’re gonna need to check on that. We’ll probably need to set it. That’s okay. We’ll take good care of you. 

 

Roxi – Yeah...

 

Misty – Roxi,  are you sure you’re okay?

 

Roxi – I... I don’t know...

 

Misty – Let me, me get this guy taken care of and I’ll be right back.

 

{Roxi almost absent mindedly helps Misty bring the dog in and place it on the table to be examined, a couple of the nurses come in and begins to bathe the dog to clean the wounds. Misty escorts Roxi outside into the fresh air.}

 

Misty – Roxi? What is going on? 

 

Roxi – You... you... 

 

Misty – Roxi?

 

{Roxi doesn’t get to finish and she just starts crying. Sobbing uncontrollably until she starts to dry heave. Misty continues to console her rubbing her back.}

 

Misty – Roxi? What’s the matter? You can tell me.

 

{Roxi finally stops crying enough to calm herself.}

 

Roxi – You are... alive.

 

{Misty double takes.}

 

Misty – Yes. I am.

 

Roxi – I'm... I’m just so happy...

 

{Misty looks even more confused.}

 

Misty – I'm not following...

 

Roxi – I... I’m not either. I don’t even know what to say. I... I mean... how are you?

 

Misty – I'm fine.

 

{Misty smiles at the curious question.}

 

Roxi – You are... 

 

Misty – Yes.

 

Roxi – Are you... happy?

 

Misty – Happy? Sure.

 

Roxi – But not...successful?

 

Misty – What’s the difference?  You just asked if I was happy. Happy means successful, doesn’t it? I mean, that’s how I look at it. I’ve lived a good life, I’ve done something I loved. I’ve met a bunch of great people. To me... that’s happiness, and it’s success.

 

Roxi – How old are you?

 

Misty – 40.

 

Roxi – THAT’S... THAT’S FANTASTIC.

 

Misty – Ooookay.

 

Roxi – Can I give you a hug?

 

Misty – Sure.

 

{Roxi hugs Misty tightly and squeezes.}

 

Roxi – I’m so happy for you.

 

Misty – Yeah... I can tell. You’re squeezing....

 

Roxi – Oh... Oh sorry.

 

Misty – It's okay.

 

Roxi – I... I should go. Let you get back to your work.

 

Misty – Yeah, sure. Come by and visit again soon okay?

 

{Roxi is devastated by the remark. She doesn’t say anything right away, she does nod and smiles, wiping away a tear.}

 

Roxi – I sure will.

 

{Misty touches Roxi’s shoulder and then walks back inside. Roxi takes a moment, and looks around and then gets back in her car. She simply drives back home, almost numb. She exits the car, and enters the house again. Ted is right there.}

 

Ted – Roxi?

 

Roxi – Hello.

 

Ted – Roxi I had no choice.

 

Roxi – I know. I was acting like a crazy person. I get it.

 

{There are soon sirens outside the house.}

 

Roxi – The truth is Ted, this place is perfect. It’s perfect and I would absolutely love this place. I should love this place. I DO love this place. Everything I could ever want is here. This is my ideal world. There’s nothing I would change around here. I’m sorry for scaring you, but the real truth is... I don’t belong here. I don’t belong here at all.

 

Ted – What?

 

Roxi – No, I know I’m supposed to be somewhere else. This is.... this is what could have been, and it’s not for me. I’m sorry.

 

Ted – Roxi? What are you talking about?

 

Roxi – I'm sorry. I have to go.

 

{The medical personnel come in and Roxi offers no resistance to being taken away. She is transported to a medical facility for questioning. Soon she is confronted by a doctor.}

 

Doctor – Hello Roxi.

 

Roxi – Hello.

 

Doctor – I see you have had some rather interesting views today.

 

Roxi – You could say that.

 

Doctor – Your husband reported that you are talking about people as if you know them, viruses that don’t exist, and people and persons that don’t exist.

 

Roxi – These people do exist. Just not here. This isn’t where I belong.

 

Doctor – This isn’t where you belong? But you’re here? And you expressed that this is a wonderful place.

 

Roxi – It is. It’s perfect. in fact...

 

{Roxi leans forward.}

 

Roxi – It's too perfect.

 

{Roxi grabs the doctor by the shirt leaping over the table and pouncing on him.}

 

Roxi – I knew this was too good to be true. This is like a dream... And there was a doctor who specializes in dreams. But you wouldn’t know him, would you? I don’t belong here, and no matter how attractive you make this place. I don’t belong here!

 

{The Doctor holds his hands up.}

 

Doctor – Isn’t this what you wanted? 

 

Roxi – Not. Like. This. Send me back.

 

Doctor – I can’t. 

 

Roxi – Yes, you can! Do it! Let me out!

 

Doctor – Orderly's!

 

{Roxi gets off the doctor and the orderly's come in. Roxi attacks, then and pushes them away. She escapes down the hall way and begins running through the medical facility, looking for something. She searches, until she finds a room with medical equipment. She looks, and she warily finds a giant needle marked “Adrenaline”. She picks it up, and uncaps it, as the orderly’s storm in the room.}

 

Roxi – Stay out of my head.

 

{Roxi jams the needle as hard as she possibly could into her breastplate.}

 




 

Roxi –AHHH!

 

{Roxi slowly sits up gasping for air as Keira is right there by her side.}

 

Keira- You're alive!

 

Roxi – Keira!

 

{Roxi hugs Keira tightly and kisses her.}

 

Keira – Are you okay?

 

Roxi – I... I don’t know... Please tell me that Nate is here.

 

Keira – Yeah, he’s sleeping.

 

Roxi – And my mom?

 

Keira – She's here too.

 

Roxi – What... what happened?

 

Keira – It was Dr. Dream. He was going to poison people with his new serum. It puts people in a dream state until they die. You had a fever but, looks like it broke. 

 

Roxi – Where is he?

 

Keira – Don't worry, I got you out and took care of it.  He’s in custody now. Guild custody. And the shop has been shut down.

 

Roxi - *Sigh*

 

{Roxi stands up sighs, regaining her composure after a few moments.}

 

Keira – Are you going to be okay.

 

Roxi – I think so.

 

Keira – What did you see?

 

{Roxi turns to Keira and shaking her head.}

 

Roxi – A glimpse into what could have been. But... that’s another story for another time. I’m just glad to be back.

 

Keira – I'm glad your back too.

 

{Roxi and Keira hug as the scene fades.}

 

Because I'm doing this one by the book...and because I don't want to. Do you understand? I don't want to hurt you. I don't want either of us to end up killing the other...but we're both running out of alternatives...and we both know it. Maybe it all hinges on tonight. Maybe this is our last chance to sort this bloody mess out. If you don't take it, then we're locked onto a suicide course. Both of us. To the death. It doesn't have to end like that. I don't know what it was that bent your life out of shape, but who knows? Maybe I've been there too. Maybe I can help. We could work together. I could rehabilitate you. You needn't be out there on the edge any more. You needn't be alone. We don't have to kill each other. What do you say?” 

- Batman (The Killing Joke)

 

As we inch closer to this match, there are times that I have to stand back and wonder about “What could have been.” I know that it’s dangerous to think that way, but I can’t help it sometimes. To stop and think how different life would have been if we made one choice or another. I mean, you can get into some weird butterfly effect craziness if you go too deep into it, but I do think about it sometimes. I think about how my life would be different without Keira, without Nate, and it scares me. I mean, I can play the what if game all the time, but you know, it gets to me sometimes. Thinking about how one choice could have made my life if I had gone left instead or right, down instead of up. I am on the path I’m on for a reason, but you know, those thoughts they creep in, and recently, they have crept in to my head regarding this match, heck, this entire year, with Amber Ryan. And how we wouldn’t be in the place we’re in now, we wouldn’t be in the match we’re in, there wouldn’t have been blood and fire and people getting hurt like this. It could have been so much different.

 

I mean, it is entirely possible that this whole thing could have been avoided and the past 6 months could have been nothing but a bad dream. I keep thinking that maybe I am to blame for this, if I had just accepted Amber and then what? We have a couple of matches and I’d be doing something else this Sunday instead of preparing my body to go through even more punishment and damage that will last me the rest of my life. That I wouldn’t have gotten a fireball to the face and attacked mercilessly for all this time. Would any action I took avoided this? I got to thinking and I am now positive that the answer to that question is a resounding “No.”

 

Even if I had done that, Amber would still be attempting to end my career and gleefully marching towards this match with even more malice towards me. Calling me weak for so readily accepting her and falling into the trap she had set. This is no doubt in my mind that this was her plan the entire time, and perhaps that maybe having this kind of match to finally end this for the time being was a huge part of it. That I would have to finally accept this type of match and this type of violence to fight back and survive, let alone win this whole thing. I do wish that it hadn’t come to this moment that we are facing down right now, but there is no other alternative at this point. Heck, outside of a tag match a few weeks ago, there’s been nothing but a violent, weapons filled brawl the entire time with Amber and I. We’ve STARTED this with a street fight. We have escalated to a falls count anywhere match, and now, one of us will have to put the other down for at least 10 seconds. We have gone down that violent road for the entire trip, and at High Stakes, we’re finally, finally coming off that road, my only worry, is that it’s far too late in the trip to ever go back. 

 

I have given plenty of thought to what Amber means when she says we’re more alike than we care to admit. Are we so different? There is some validity to it. While we have taken different paths, but yet, we ended up at the same place. There has been violence, there has been heartbreak and trauma, and more than I’d like to admit, mental scarring. And yet, here we are together, almost as if we are two sides of the same coin. Maybe.... maybe we’re both crazy. Maybe Amber is crazy for thinking she’s going to change me. Thinking that I’m going to do down to that level and actually hurt her to prove her point: That I will break my own code in order to win. And maybe I’m just as crazy for believing I can change her and make her see how rough this road has become and trying to steer it away so we avoid disaster. The only difference is... whatever has happened, I rejected giving in to the line of thinking that caring is a sign of weakness. And Amber has coldly embraced it.

 

So, you may ask me “why?” Why did I choose this type of match to challenge Amber to, if I didn’t really ever want to go here? Why would I put my own health and career at risk if I never wanted it to be this way?

 

I chose that stipulation for many reasons. The first is very simple. Because before one of us completely ends the other permanently, there has to be a stopping point. And maybe that’s just wishful thinking right now. Maybe we’ve come too far and we are destined to simply be at each other’s throats for the rest of our days. Maybe that no matter what happens, we will always be trying to kill each other. Maybe we’re supposed to be the Hatfields and McCoys and we are destined to do this forever. But at some point, it has to at least tone itself down. Because as much as this whole thing has driven me go to places, I never thought possible, as much as it has brought out my more violent side and made my survival instincts take over... It has drained me. 

 

In all honesty, I’m tired. Mentally and physically. I’m tired of taking trips to the hospital. I’m tired of having to watch my back and sit in anticipation of an attack that may or may not come. I’m tired of feeling like every single time I step into an arena that a fight is going to happen. I’m tired of the head games and constantly having to go back and forth. I’m tired of my friends being dragged into this. I’m tired of... just this, in general. So how do I get rid of it? How do I combat this and make sure that it finally stops? The only way that I know how. I have to beat Amber in this match, and finally let her understand that no matter what she tries, no matter how badly she tries to hurt me and no matter what lengths she attempts to take this to, I’m not going to change who I am. I’m not going to cross that line. Never again. So, for my own health and well-being, both physically and mentally, this match, has to made, and it has to be completed. Yes, I wish there was another option, but this is clearly it. There’s nothing left. Amber has forced my hand. She has backed me into this corner, and as the old saying goes, that is when an animal is at its most dangerous. When it will lash out in self-defense. I didn’t want this, but there’s is just no alternative to this matter outside of it.

 

Amber and I are well beyond what she would like to put out there as the reasons for her actions. Amber would like you to believe that this was just to see who was better. It never, ever was about that. Because if it was, we would have had wrestling matches and there would have been some competetive juices flowing and at the end, we’d be able to laugh at this, and have some semblance of respect for one another and we wouldn’t be hitting each other with everything that wasn’t nailed down. There wouldn’t have been blood or fire or anything close to it. If Amber wanted that, when I shook her hand, she wouldn’t have tossed fire in my face. She would have accepted my suspicions and we could have at least talked about this like real people. But we’re past that now. All of the things that have gone down have lead us here. This was the plan all along and there’s no denying that at this point. I was right to suspect that Amber wasn’t on the level of simply trying to beat me in a wrestling match. Hell, we didn’t even HAVE a wrestling match to start this, what sense does it make now? It’s yet another reason we have to have this Last Woman Standing match. This has to get as big as it can be to finally end. A mere wrestling match would be anti-climactic at this point. It would be ridiculous and it would open the door for Amber to challenge my bravery as it were. 

 

And yet, I am aware of the irony of not wanting to hurt Amber, yet challenging her to a match where that’s the object. I get the confusing stance I’m taking. it is a double standard almost. But much like last time, I have no choice but to fight fire with fire, as the expression goes. Maybe this is fool’s errand and nothing that I say or do in the next few days will have any meaning to Amber, but while I am not a fan of her actions inside the ring, and the excessive violence to intimidate people that she uses, I do respect what she has done and what she has carved out for herself. Championships, hall of fame inductions, all while doing the things she does. And yet, I am fully aware she would gladly throw all of that out the window if it means that I dropped to her level and she “exposed” me as it were. That I can be as violent and bloodthirsty as she is. That’s always been the goal of this whole thing. Not about who’s better in the ring. Nor is this out some sense of superiority or morality. That part, is only in Amber’s mind. It is what is driving her to do everything she’s doing right now. She believes in her heart that I believe myself to be morally superior to her and to others because I don’t agree with there actions. Maybe, to some, it comes off that way. But usually, it’s because I expect more out of people who put the spotlight on themselves. I simply look at the person, and the message they send. And usually, those who don’t like what I say or take my opinions seriously, are the one’s spreading bad messages to up and coming wrestlers. It doesn’t bother me if you want to be a “hardcore” or “extreme” or “deathmatch” wrestler. But when you turn around and say “every other way is for the weak” yes, I have an issue with it. When you claim to the “the best” and thumb your nose at challenges and then cry foul when a challenge is more than you can handle, yes, I take issue. It’s not what they do, it’s how they go about it. I simply believe that on any day, anyone can be beaten, so respecting who is in front of you is something I take very seriously. I was never going to get that from Amber. Despite our professional courtesy towards one another, I always knew that when Amber got the chance, she would do, what she is doing now.

 

And thus, we are here. 

 

So as much as I would like to think that things could have been different, they aren’t.  As much as I would like to, I cannot change the past and I can only hope that what I say and do here today, and happens after that will have at least have a small impact on the future. But again, I can’t be certain. When someone like Amber is convinced that they are correct in something they believe, they will go to extreme lengths to prove themselves correct. And this, above all else is the thing I don’t want to have happen, but I know it’s going to rear it’s head at some point. I know that Amber isn’t going to stop in this match, she will have be stopped. And in order the match that, I have no choice by but to do the same. I have to get up time and time again until the job is done. 

 

It is also a reason I asked for this type of match. Maybe I’m giving Amber what she wants, but at the same time, it is the only way in my mind that we finally settle this whole deal. This way, we will both know that we gave everything and there will be no excuses. There’s not going to be any tricks or unexplainable happenings this time. There won’t be a glitter bomb. Amber Ryan will have no excuses at the end of this match. Because I’m going to beat her. I’m going to finally put an end to this and move forward instead of being stuck. Yes, I’m going to give Amber exactly what she wants. She wants me to play the role of the hero, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. 

 

And we all know that heroes more often than not, triumph in the end. So I’m going to give Amber this opportunity. I want Amber to give me everything. All the feelings she has had built up these past six months. Every little thing that she believes I did wrong and throw it all back at me. Let it all out and and unleash and beat me up. Do whatever she feels she needs to do. While I may be tired of it, I am fully prepared to take one more trip to the hospital. I am fully prepared to have every single bone, muscle and everything else on my body, hurt, and hurt for days if need be. I want it all, and I want there to be nothing left for Amber to be mad at me about. If it’s my fault, then take it out on me. Because when it’s all said and done, if that is the best medicine for her, then I’m willing to take it. I’ve been beaten up before, and I will be beat up again. I am the hero, that’s what I do. I’ve always said I’d rather it be me than anyone else in that situation. Well, I am now in that situation, and I’m asking for it.

 

I am in this match, to win, and to survive, not to hurt Amber. Though, I am fully aware I’m going to HAVE to hurt Amber in order to win. But my aim remains the same. I’m not in this match to try and do any permanent damage, I just need to stop Amber and end this. That’s all.  Nothing more, nothing less. 

 

Because at the end of the day, at the end of all this, I MUST beat Amber at her own game, with my own code intact. I can no longer think about what could have been. That time has passed. Now, it is about one thing, and one thing only, finality. This is where the fighting ends, at least for now. And that makes this the single most important fight I’ve ever had. To me, this bigger than a championship match. This is me, finally putting an end to the carnage, before it consumes not only me, not only Amber, but everyone else. I made a promise to all of you, and I intend to keep my promises. Yes, there will be pain, and yes, I will most likely walk about of this match with perhaps YEARS taken off my career, maybe even my life. But every little bit of that, will be worth it in the end. I’m going to beat Amber Ryan, playing the hero she wants me to play.

 

And as the hero, I will do everything in my power to save her. 

 

Even if it’s a lost cause, and even if it’s from herself.

 

I have to try, that’s what heroes do.
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