The Queenslayer's Vow: Alexandra's 2025 Comeback
Alexandra’s Blog
Las Vegas, Nevada
They say that every warrior has their battle scars—those moments of triumph and defeat that shape who they are and what they’re capable of becoming. As I sit here reflecting on 2024, a year of exhilarating highs and crushing lows, I’m reminded that the only way to rise is to fall first. This past year tested me in ways I never anticipated, and now, as I look to 2025, I vow to show the world—and myself—that Alexandra, the Queenslayer, is far from done.
Let’s rewind for a moment. Shall we go back to the beginning of the year? It’s been a remarkable one hasn’t it? There’s been so much going on here in Sin City Wrestling, from the forging of friendships, the foundations of a brewing love, watching two of my best friends tie the knot and then facing hardships due to peoples insanity.
2024 began with fire in my veins and gold around my waist. Twice, I stood tall as the Bombshell Roulette Champion, proving to everyone why I belong at the top of the Sin City Wrestling roster. Those matches weren’t just wins; they were wars, battles that pushed me to my limit and beyond. I thrived in the chaos, and for a while, it felt like nothing could stop me. The cheers of the crowd, the adrenaline of victory—those moments were everything.
But as they say, the higher you climb, the harder the fall. That’s the only certainty in this industry. You will have highs and lows, ups and downs, it’s a fact of life. In and out of the ring. There’s things beyond our control.
Somewhere along the way, the momentum I worked so hard to build began to slip through my fingers. Losses started to pile up, and doubt crept in like an unwelcome shadow. People began to whisper, questioning if the Queenslayer had lost her edge. And truth be told? I wondered the same thing. I wondered if my time was coming to a close, honestly I had considered retirement rather deeply. Something inside me was dying, the fire I had been carrying for twenty plus years started to crackle into dying embers. Something didn’t feel the same and it showed when I was out there.
Yet, amidst the turbulence, life had a way of surprising me. 2024 wasn’t just about wrestling—it was also the year I found something I didn’t even know I was missing: love. Meeting LJ Kasey changed everything. He reminded me that there’s more to this life than wins and losses. Together, we shared moments of joy that reignited my passion for not just wrestling but for life itself. His belief in me has been my anchor, my strength when I felt like giving up. He reignited that flame, renewed my passion for the industry, and got my ass moving forward through the losses. And while I’d like to say it showed, it didn’t.
But love doesn’t replace hunger or the drive to do better in the ring. It does however help with the doubt and the despair one can feel in the heat of the moment. It’s that hunger that’s been keeping me up at night, replaying my matches, analyzing my mistakes, and reminding me why I stepped into the ring in the first place. Wrestling isn’t just something I do; it’s who I am. And that’s why 2025 will be different. It has to be, I’m going to give this year no fucking choice. When it comes down to it, in the end, it’s all up to me.
This year, I’m not just coming back to compete—I’m coming back to conquer. The Queenslayer isn’t a nickname; it’s a promise. A promise to every opponent who steps into the ring with me that they’ll face a version of Alexandra they’ve never seen before. I’ve been in the trenches, I’ve tasted defeat, and now I’m ready to reclaim my crown.
But there’s more to my journey than just my personal battles. There’s Ashlynn, my daughter, my heart, and my driving force. Everything I do, every match I fight, every risk I take is for her. Ashlynn is my legacy, the proof that strength, resilience, and determination are in our blood. When she looks at me, I want her to see a fighter who never gives up, someone who stands tall even when the odds are stacked against her. My victories are hers, and my struggles teach her that nothing worth having comes easy.
Don’t even get me started on our new roster members, who are walking around backstage trying to make a statement, by attacking my boyfriend and several other members of the roster who made it possible for people like them to arrive. Brooke Shields and her little boy toy Logan, will get what's coming to them soon enough. You can bet on that. I will tell you right now, those two have a lot to learn when it comes to the “Wrestling” industry. But they’ll learn in time. We were all young and dumb once.
2025 is my banner year. I’m not just aiming for gold—I’m aiming to redefine what it means to be the best in Sin City Wrestling. The Bombshell Roulette Championship? That was just the beginning. The Queenslayer is ready to climb higher, to fight harder, and to show the world why I’m not just a contender but a champion.
So to my fans, my supporters, and even my doubters: buckle up. This year, Alexandra is back with a vengeance. I’ve got unfinished business, and I’ll stop at nothing to remind everyone in SCW that the Queenslayer doesn’t just play the game—she reigns over it.
Here’s to 2025. Here’s to the comeback of a lifetime. Let’s slay some queens. And the first stop is Prudence Pierce. See you in Henderson, Nevada
Xoxo,
Alexandra Calaway
Prudence, do you know…
Lion Habitat Ranch
Henderson, Nevada
The camera opens on Alexandra Calaway standing in front of the iconic Lion Habitat Ranch in Henderson, Nevada. The setting sun casts a fiery glow over the sanctuary, while the faint roars of lions echo in the background. Alexandra, dressed in her signature leather jacket emblazoned with “Queenslayer” on the back, stands with an aura of command and intensity.
“Here we are, Henderson, Nevada. A place where kings and queens roam—the lions. Apex predators. Rulers of their domain. It’s poetic, really, that I’m standing here in this sanctuary, because lions don’t beg for respect; they demand it. They don’t hesitate. They strike. They dominate. They thrive. And just like them, I’ve carved out my legacy with claws bared and teeth sharpened. But tonight, I’m not here to marvel at their majesty. No, I’m here to deliver a message. A warning, if you will. To one individual who dares to step into my den, who dares to question whether the Queenslayer still reigns supreme. Prudence Pierce, this one’s for you.”
Alexandra begins pacing slowly, her boots crunching against the gravel as she gestures to the lions lounging behind her.
“Let’s talk about your name, Prudence. “Prudence,” from the Latin prudentia. It’s supposed to mean foresight, caution, wisdom. You think that’s your strength, don’t you? That it’ll give you the upper hand against me. But let me tell you something about this business—our business. In that ring, caution gets you nowhere. Restraint doesn’t win championships. And wisdom? Wisdom is nothing more than a crutch for those too scared to take risks.”
She paused looking around her, before she started to pace again, her mind racing at everything that’s happened, the threats from all sides, the battles she’s been through. All of it, she wanted another chance at Bea and it was coming at Inception VII she would get that chance. For now, she would focus on what's in front of her.
“I’ve been doing this for over two decades, and I’ve seen every type of competitor there is. The reckless ones. The calculating ones. The cautious ones. And do you know what they all have in common when they step into the ring with me? They learn, real quick, that Alexandra Calaway doesn’t play by their rules. I won't wait. I don’t hesitate. I decimate.”
She stops pacing and looks directly into the camera, her piercing gaze unyielding.
“Prudence, you may think your name makes you clever. That it makes you careful. But in reality, it makes you weak. Because caution is just fear dressed up in fancy clothes. And wisdom? Wisdom is just what losers cling to when they’re picking themselves up off the mat after I’ve laid them out. You don’t belong in my world, Prudence. This isn’t a chess match where you can sit back and plan your next move. This is the squared circle. It’s brutal. It’s unforgiving. It’s where hesitation and overthinking will get you eaten alive. And let me tell you something, sweetheart: when that bell rings, I’m not going to outthink you. I’m going to outfight you.”
The faint roar of a lion in the background punctuates her words, adding a visceral weight to her declaration. Alexandra crosses her arms, her expression hardening.
“Let me remind you of something, Prudence. 2024 wasn’t exactly kind to me. I started the year with fire in my veins and gold around my waist. Twice, I held the Bombshell Roulette Championship, proving to the world that I’m not just another name on the roster—I’m the name. The one you remember. The one who sets the bar. And for a while, I was unstoppable.”
She took the time to pause, thinking things over, knowing that she needed every moment and that every single one of them, everything she had to say, needed to count.
“But then, life had other plans. Losses started piling up. Doubt crept in. People started whispering, questioning whether the Queenslayer had lost her edge. And you know what? I questioned it too. I wondered if my time was up. If the fire that had burned inside me for over twenty years was finally dying out. I considered walking away. Retiring. I thought about it hard.”
Her voice falters slightly, just enough to convey the vulnerability she’s speaking from, but it quickly regains its steel edge.
“But then something happened. I found a reason to fight again. Love, Prudence. Love rekindled my fire. LJ Kasey reminded me that life is more than wins and losses. That it’s about passion, about purpose. My daughter, Ashlynn, reminded me that I’m not just fighting for myself—I’m fighting for her. To show her what resilience looks like. To prove that no matter how many times life knocks you down, you get back up. And when you do, you come back stronger, fiercer, hungrier.”
She thought about what drives her, her daughter Ashlynn, leaving a legacy behind for her when Alexandra’s time was up. About LJ, who had her back no matter what. She had watched him win his first championship. Everything they had been building in the last eight months, was finally paying off.
“So here I am, Prudence. In 2025, I’m not just coming back to compete. I’m coming back to conquer this company. And you? You’re just the first name on my list. 2024 is the past and that’s where it’s going to stay. This is my moment, then after I finish with you, I will go on to face off against be at ”
She gestures to the lions again, their calm yet commanding presence mirroring her own.
“Do you see these lions? They’re not cautious. They don’t sit back and wait for the perfect moment to strike. They go for it. They seize what’s theirs. And when they do? There’s no stopping them. That’s who I am, Prudence. That’s what I do. I’m not here to play it safe. I’m here to dominate. To destroy. To remind everyone in Sin City Wrestling why the name Alexandra Calaway sends chills down spines.”
She steps closer to the camera, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper.
“Prudence, you’re stepping into my world now. You’re walking into the lion’s den, and you think your “foresight” and “wisdom” are going to save you? They won’t. All the caution in the world won’t prepare you for what happens when the Queenslayer gets her hands on you. Enough losses and doubt. When I step into that ring with you, all bets are off.”
She thought about all those who came before Prudence, everyone she had faced here in her time with Sin City Wrestling.
“You’re not the first to think you can use me as a stepping stone, oh there have been so many before you. And I know you won’t be the last. But let me make one thing crystal clear: when that bell rings, you’re going to learn why they call me the Queenslayer. You’re going to learn that Prudence isn’t a strength—it’s a weakness. And in this jungle, only the strongest survive.”
The camera zooms in on her face as she delivers her final, chilling words.
“January 2025. Henderson, Nevada. Alexandra Calaway versus Prudence Pierce. One of us will walk out with our head held high. And the other? The other will be just another victim. Prudence, consider this your only warning. The Queenslayer doesn’t just play the game—she reigns over it. See you in the ring.”
The camera fades to black, the faint roar of a lion echoing as the screen goes dark.
Training Together
Private Gym
Henderson, Nevada
The gym buzzed faintly with background noise—distant weights clinking, a treadmill humming—but for Alexandra, the only sounds that mattered were the rhythmic thuds of her gloves meeting the pads LJ held. Sweat trickled down her temple as her strikes connected, each one sharp and precise, a testament to years of hard-earned skill.
"Keep it moving, angel," LJ said, stepping lightly to the side, forcing her to adjust her angles. "Don’t let me pin you down."
Her lips twitched into a grin despite the strain in her shoulders. "Don’t flatter yourself there champ, this isn't our bedroom. You’re good, but still a rookie." She gave him a playful wink.
“You weren’t saying that last night..” LJ chuckled, lowering the pads momentarily to stretch his arms. "Yeah, well, this learner’s holding his own. Besides, you said Prudence is all about control, right? Gotta get you used to dodging traps."
"Fair point," she admitted, bouncing on her toes to keep her blood flowing. Prudence’s face flashed in her mind—calm, methodical, always calculating. Alexandra’s next opponent wasn’t just skilled; she was strategic in a way few wrestlers were. "She’s not going to let me set the pace. If I don’t dictate the rhythm, she’ll take over."
"Then don’t let her," LJ said, raising the mitts again. "One-two, step out, double up on the low kicks. Make her second-guess every move."
Alexandra launched into the combination without hesitation, her fists and legs moving in a seamless flow. Each strike connected with a satisfying crack, the sound reverberating through the space. LJ stumbled back slightly, laughing. "Alright, alright, save some for Prudence. She’s the one you’re trying to knock out."
"She’s going to feel every one of these," Alexandra said, her tone lighter now, but her focus still razor-sharp. "She’s not like the others. She’s got that patient style. Like she’s always waiting for the perfect moment."
"Yeah, but what happens when there’s no perfect moment?" LJ countered, stepping forward again. His voice softened, a hint of that endearing mix of admiration and concern slipping through. "You’re good at making people uncomfortable, angel. You’ve got this knack for forcing them to make mistakes. Use that. Turn it into a fight she doesn’t want."
Alexandra nodded, wiping her brow with her forearm. His words had a way of grounding her. LJ might be new to this world, but his perspective was fresh, unburdened by the weight of years in the ring. "You’re not bad at this coaching thing, you know."
"Don’t get used to it," he said, grinning. "I’m just here to keep you on your toes. Speaking of which—" He tapped the mitts together. "Show me what you’re going to do if she rushes in for the clinch."
Alexandra groaned theatrically but reset her stance. "You just want an excuse to see me pivot again, don’t you?"
LJ smirked. "Can you blame me? It’s poetry in motion."
"Flattery’s not going to save you when I kick your ass," she teased which caused a smirk and a wink out of him, launching into the drill. She practiced breaking free of a simulated clinch, pivoting sharply to the side and countering with a knee strike. Each repetition felt smoother, more instinctive.
"That’s it," LJ encouraged, his voice steady. "She’s going to hate you for that luv. And when she’s frustrated, she’ll get sloppy."
"Unless I get sloppy first," Alexandra muttered, her breath hitching slightly as she pushed through the next set.
"Hey," LJ said, lowering the pads and stepping closer. "Don’t start that. You’re the veteran here, angel. You’ve been through this a dozen times over. She’s the one who should be worried."
Alexandra paused, resting her hands on her hips as she caught her breath. "Yeah, but she’s got momentum. Everyone’s calling her the next big thing. What if I’ve already peaked?"
LJ’s expression softened, and he reached out to tilt her chin up so she’d meet his gaze. "Stop. You’ve still got fire in you, and you know it. Prudence? She’s good. No one’s saying she isn’t. But she doesn’t have what you have. She hasn’t been through the wars you have. You know how to dig deep, how to adapt. That’s what makes you dangerous."
His words hung between them, and for a moment, Alexandra just looked at him, the weight of her doubt easing slightly. She reached up and gave his hand a quick squeeze. "Thanks, Love."
"Always," he said, flashing her that boyish grin that made her heart ache in the best way. "Now, let’s finish strong. Show me that left hook again. The one that nearly knocked me over last week."
"You’re never going to let that go, are you?" she said, her smirk returning as she stepped back into her stance.
"Not a chance," he replied, holding up the mitts. "It’s a badge of honor, Angel. Alright—hook, cross, pivot, then a kick. Go."
They ran through the combination again and again, LJ adjusting his position to keep her moving and thinking. Alexandra’s punches grew faster, sharper, her confidence rebuilding with each strike. By the time they finished, her shirt clung to her like a second skin, and her arms ached in the best way.
LJ dropped the mitts onto the bench, grabbing a towel and tossing it to her. "You’re ready, angel. She’s not going to know what hit her."
"Thanks to you," Alexandra said, toweling off as she gave him an approving nod. "You’re getting good at this, you know."
"Don’t let it go to my head," he said, leaning against the bench. "But seriously, you’re going to be fine. Just stick to your plan, and if she tries to throw you off, throw her right back."
She smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Thanks, LJ. For everything."
"Anytime, love." he said, looping an arm around her waist as they headed for the door. "Now, let’s get you home. Rest is just as important as training."
As they walked out of the gym together, the weight of the upcoming match felt lighter. Prudence might be a challenge, but Alexandra knew she had what it took—and with LJ in her corner, she felt unstoppable.
Training Time
Private Gym
Henderson, Nevada
The screen roars to life, the faint hum of fluorescent lights in the background replaced by the sharp, echoing crack of fist meeting leather. Alexandra stands in the center of the gym, a fortress of determination carved from grit and sweat. Her movements are relentless—a blur of power, speed, and precision. She slams a fist into the heavy bag, each punch reverberating like thunder. Around her, weights clink, a jump rope whips through the air, and the cadence of her breath is steady, controlled, and fierce. The camera closes in on her face, beads of sweat tracing the sharp angles of her cheekbones. Her blue eyes burn with an intensity that could melt steel. The voiceover begins, low and simmering with authority.
Voiceover: The ring isn’t just a place where matches are fought—it’s where legacies are forged. Every drop of sweat that falls, every bruise, every ache—it’s the price we pay for greatness. Prudence, you think you’re prepared, but you’ve never faced someone like me. I don’t train for applause. I don’t train for the spotlight. I train to win. I train to conquer. And when that bell rings, it won’t just be a fight—it’ll be your reckoning.
The montage intensifies, cutting to Alexandra flipping massive tires, her muscles rippling with effort. She sprints across the gym floor, driving her knees high and fast, her breath a rhythm of focus and power. A sparring partner steps into the frame, but Alexandra dominates the exchange. A quick feint, a thunderous uppercut, and the sparring partner crumbles to the mat. The music builds, heavy bass driving the scene.
Voiceover: You can analyze the tapes, Prudence. You can write out your strategies and build a game plan. But let me tell you something—plans mean nothing when your body is screaming in pain, when your lungs are begging for air, when your vision blurs from the sheer force of my strikes. That’s what I bring to the ring. Not just skill, but devastation. You’ll learn the hard way that the Queenslayer doesn’t just fight—she destroys.
The screen flashes with images of Alexandra landing punishing moves: a suplex delivered with bone-crunching force, a submission hold locked in so tight it makes her sparring partner tap within seconds, and a brutal spinning kick that sends the punching bag flying off its chain. The camera shifts again, this time focusing on her reflection in the gym mirror. Alexandra leans forward, staring at herself, her breaths heavy but controlled. Her voiceover continues, darker now, more personal.
Voiceover: I’ve bled for this. Sacrificed for this. Every moment of pain, every ounce of doubt—it’s all been fuel. This isn’t just about beating you, Prudence. It’s about proving that the Queenslayer isn’t just a title. It’s a testament to everything I’ve endured, everything I’ve overcome. When I step into that ring, I’m not just fighting for myself. I’m fighting to remind the world that I am the standard, the pinnacle, the apex predator.
The footage cuts to her lifting a barbell overhead, veins bulging as she roars through the effort. It transitions to her climbing the ropes, executing a perfect aerial move that ends with her slamming an opponent into the mat. The music reaches a crescendo as the screen cuts back to Alexandra standing in the gym. Her fists are clenched, her hands still wrapped in tape. Her breathing is steady, her body a portrait of power and preparation. She tilts her head slightly, a smirk playing on her lips.
“Prudence, this isn’t just a match. It’s a warning. You’re stepping into my world, and in my world, there’s no room for hesitation. There’s no room for caution. When we meet in Henderson, I’ll show you exactly why they call me the Queenslayer. Brace yourself. Because your caution ends—and my reign begins.”
The camera lingers on her for a moment, her eyes piercing, unshakable. The screen fades to black, but the final sound—a resounding crack of her fist hitting the bag—echoes long after the visuals are gone.
