Wheels of justice grind slow but grind fine
May 28, 2014 5:41:04 GMT -5
Doc Henry and "The Black Dragon" Alex Jones like this
Post by Deleted on May 28, 2014 5:41:04 GMT -5
I glance around the apartment Alex and I have been sharing for the past six months or so and I curl my nose up. As thought it wasn't bad enough I had been forced to SHARE an apartment, with stairs no less... Apparently we can't afford an elevator. But the tiny two roomed apartment smelt like old beer and sweat... It was like living in a frat house. As I pick my way across clothes strewn over the floor I sigh, scooping down to pick up Alex's jeans and fold them over my arm.
I work my way from my bedroom door to what we suspectly call a kitchen - a small poky corner of the lounge room with two counter-tops a fridge and a stove... A few cupboards dotted above the counters contain basics and I swing open the fridge, leaning on the door to purvey what little is contained inside.
Walking away from my father (and his money) was a blessing, of course, if you can't afford drugs they become a lot harder to come by... But now I was stuck living with a man who, whilst I admired as a mentor and a trainer, had the drinking and sleeping habits of a kid his first year of college... And I usually wound up feeling like the "wing-man" he always teased me to be...
"...Hi" a ridiculously cutesy voice rises up from behind the open fridge door.
I take a moment to roll my eyes before closing the fridge and fixing the fakest smile I can muster on my face. The tiny little blonde... thing... Before me is the girl from the bar last night. She smiles nervously at me but shrinks back slightly and I realize I a not smiling at her, but almost snarling.
"Uh... Have you seen my..."
I reach below the countertop and pull out a large plastic container, as I slam it down on the floor in front of her, various female articles drop out and around it... I then point over to the couch -or- "lounge" area.
"In here, or over there... Otherwise, cut your losses." I shrug and move to turn back to the fridge.
She kind of dithers on the spot for a moment and then clears her throat, or makes some stupid little squeaking noise which I presume is that, I suppress my growl... A mix of hunger, frustration and tiredness and glance back at her through the corner of my eye.
"Yes....?" my tone is not inviting nor do I want it to be.
"I'm sorry - I didn't know..." she smiles sadly and I slam the fridge shut again.
Stepping right up into her face, which isn't hard, given the kitchens size, I lean down, my nose almost touching hers, my breath moves the blonde hair tucked behind her ear and her eyes flash with genuine fear.
"Didn't know what?" I manage to say the words in an almost calm fashion.
"About Alex..." she doesn't finish the sentence...
Mostly because that growl I had been suppressing makes it's way out of my chest and she backs up slightly, grabbing a purse from the back of a chair as she passes it, she reaches the front door and holds her hands up in an apology. The idiocy of these girls gets more extreme every single day... Just because they think with what nestles between their legs doesn't mean we all do.
There's no difference between men and women these days - makes sense in a lot of ways - but makes too many excuses for whores like Naomi to pass off a one night stand as doing me a favor... She isn't the first but god I wish she'd be the last.
The door slamming behind her pulls me from my own thoughts and I turn back to the fridge one last time, as I do so, Alex emerges. The epitome of Neanderthal man, one hand in his shorts scratching, the other rubbing his stubbly cheeks as he yawns. He heavy foots his way over and leans on the counter-top he simply regards me quietly for a moment, a small smile on his face.
"Where's Naomi?" it's almost with a laugh he says it.
"Musta had a train to catch..." I shrug, pulling eggs and milk from the fridge.
"Uh huh... You OK?" his voice changes slightly and I sigh before turning to face him.
"Once Alex... Just once." I place the milk and eggs down in front of him, turning away to find a frying pan.
I turn back twirling the pan in my hand I set it down next to the milk and eggs.
"Once what?" he grabs my arm to keep me focused on our conversation.
"I'd like to go out and NOT end up being a third wheel to your slut party of two..." I lean against the fridge, folding my arms across my chest.
"It's not always two..." I can't help but laugh and I slap him playfully on the arm.
"Can't teach an old dog new tricks huh?" I ask with a smile and he laughs "And you're certainly an OLD DOG... Pancakes?"
He rubs his hands together excitedly and nods.
"With bacon?"
“know yourself and you will win all battles”
Doc Henry.... That's a name I have heard more often than I'd like throughout my career, I'm not gonna lie to you.
But see, here's the thing about Doc, we've hated each other, we've battled it out and verbally destroyed each other... We've pushed one another to our physical limits and we've even played a few dead man's hands between us... But there is one thing that Doc and I have never done - and that's take it too far.
The way that I left WCF, the atrocities performed at the hands of a power insane... I don't want to say bitch... Fuck it, yes I do... BITCH - is something that a man like Doc Henry would never do. Love him or hate him, the guy has integrity when it comes to this sport and as much as I have enjoyed handing his ass to him in the past... And as much as I STILL want to make him pay for the... Spit Cup incident... I have to respect the man.
He has stayed and thrived in a place that chews you up and spits you out like cannon fodder, he has not only maintained his status here, but he has improved, he is a constant push of his own character, a non-stop strive to achieve more than he did before... And he doesn't do this at the expense of others, Doc Henry is not a man looking to end careers...
And that's where I have him.
See Doc, I respect you, that's true - you're a hell of a wrestler and an all around good guy. But that's where it ends... I came back here with a point to prove and the powers that be have seen fit to throw you at me as the first hurdle... Nothing has really changed between us Doc, I am still younger, still faster, I still understand your every weakness and I can... and WILL still beat you.
Not because I am the best, not because you can't quite keep up... Because I am hungry for it - you have morals, you have a standpoint... ME? I just want to see the people who deserve it... Suffer. And if that means some collateral damage along the way, if that means I am going to have to bend, break and snap people like you to get there... So be it.
This game, is by any means necessary, there's no place for niceties and friendships, everyone turns on you in the end.. I have been not only a victim, but a purveyor of that truth... You think Steve Orbit or Scott Savage thought I would go that far? Hell, Steve mother-fucking Orbit trusted me TWICE and why....? Because you all buy it!
I could sit here and smile real sweet at the camera and say how excited and honored I am to be back... I could light up my doe eyes and stare down the lens with a little pout and talk about how I pinky promise to be a good girl this time and I just wanna braid hair and hold hands with the roster... And you'd all lap it up.
Like you always did.
This isn't about being a role model, this isn't about selling shirts or having little girls wanna be just like me when they grow up. This isn't even really about winning -this is about pain. This is about retribution... This is about me taking my opportunity to make those who partook in my downfall, pay for what they did with blood, sweat and tears!
You may not be willing to end careers, you may not be willing to go out there and tear someone apart beyond the boundaries of the match... But me? I still remember the bounty on my head, I still remember the hands of that sexually inadequate son of a bitch wrapped around my throat damn near killing me - and not even in the good way... - And THAT is my driving force.
The sounds that sledge hammer made... The pain of recovery learning to fucking WALK all over again with so many damn pins in my ankles and legs that I am an airport security staff's worst nightmare.. All of that, the pain, the suffering, the waiting, it is all going to be worth it when I make them pay.
So tell yourself I am sorry Doc, when I am grinding your face into the mat with my boot, remind yourself that it isn't for YOU when I leave you there as nothing but a streak of blood to be remembered as and you keep repeating just whose fault it is when you're thankful to be able to walk away from our match...
Because last time I was in a WCF ring.... I couldn't.
“To know your Enemy, you must become your Enemy.”
The light shining through the huge old window that takes up practically an entire wall only seres to highlight the millions of particles of dust being kicked up in the old gym. The sound of boots on scuffed, unpolished wood floors, sounds almost like shushing in the background. I tilt my head to one side and watch the particles interact as they rise from the floor only to flutter back down.
There are faint work out noises coming from rooms surrounding this one, mostly the sounds of fists hitting punching bags, weights clanging as hey rest back together and the gee-up voices of the coaches shouting directions to their protégés... I laughed a little to myself, thinking of how only a year ago, just the smell of this place would have been enough to put me off.
It's surprising how quickly you can adapt when you don't have a choice... When no one really quite gets it. After the reconstruction, my appetite for pain pills wasn't exactly starved... And my father once again proved his old adeage of throwing money at the problem.... I know a part of Alex still didn't understand how I could simply walk away from all that - but the money... Money corrupts and not in the good, super villain way...
In the, I can do what I w ant because I can buy you ten times over way... I want my revenge, I want justice... But I want to TAKE it, not buy it... The pain in my legs, the constant dull ache of metal on bone serves as a reminder for why I am here - What pushed me to survive and what has given me the confidence, to come back and seek my vengeance....
"Are you gonna sit on your ass all day Chubbs?" Alex's mocking tone pulls me from my inner self.
I raise my head and stare him down slowly, he is bouncing around the creaking old practice ring like a Duracell bunny.. Waving at me and baiting me to the ring. I sigh and toss the tape I had been passing between my hands in thought into my kit bag, pushing up to roll under the bottom rope into the ring.
"Graceful..." he scoffs and I step forward, shoving both hands on his chest.
He stumbles back slightly, with a smirk he shrugs it off and comes at me - we trade blows and locks for a while, nothing exciting o indulgent - no need to injure in a practice as he always liked to remind me in the early days... I feel myself growing a little bored, the same routine over and over... Train, get stronger... Train, get faster... Push yourself, don't give up... Just keep...
"OW!" the screech leaves me as I am slammed unceremoniously on my head into the centre of the canvas.
Alex bounces around me and claps his hands together as I roll up into a sitting position, his voice is elevated but not quite a yell.
"You're holding back..." he smacks me around the head a couple of times like an annoying buzzing fly.. "Where's the hunger?"
I stick a foot out and sweep him off his legs, planting him face first into the canvas as I roll out the ring, unwinding the tape on my hands wildly I fling it to the floor and grab my kit bag, walking quickly from the room.
I can't explain the feeling that rises in me, like a bile that burns my throat... But it feels like I am going to be sick. The emotion hits me like a brick wall and I stop, I throw my hands down to grabs my knees and pant heavily, there's nothing going in.. No oxygen.. I can't breathe... What have I done?!
"Ana?" his voice is a question of concern but I cannot move.
He jogs up and stops in front of me, bending to rest his hands on his own knees, in order to catch my eye. My breathing eases a little and I can feel a rush of air to my lungs, I straighten slowly and run a hand through my hair. Looking around I try to ignore the voice in the back of my head, but it's like he hears it too...
"It's going to be OK Ana..." he reaches out, pats my arm, I pulls back. "Hey - You didn't bring me with you to sit back and look pretty..." He laughs.. I don't.
I step back and shake my head, clasping my hands to the back of it and I breathe slow and heavy, measuring my words.
"You can't be there to save me Alex..." I look at him slowly "I want you here to help me with the Personal stuff..." I glance down for a moment, then back at him "But in that ring, you can't... I have to be strong enough to do this..."
"You are!" He interjects with such a confidence it makes me laugh...
"Maybe so - but I'm scared Alex... I don't think anyone can deny me that..." I drop my hands down and stare at my fingers which pick at each other.
This feels weak, this admission, like somehow I am less for acknowledging the truth... Of course I am scared... There are enough people still out for blood whether they've reared a head yet or not - and it's not something you just forget... Not any of it. He steps forward again and grabs me by both arms as if he wants to shake me... But he doesn't.
"Scared? Ana 'Fucking' Valentine is scared...?" Alex shakes his head slowly "The only thing you're afraid of is failing Ana..." He lets me go and steps back with a shrug "You did it - you came back... You already succeeded..."
I laugh slightly and shake my head, leaning in to him for a half hug before I step back and shake out my whole bod, shaking the emotions off, burying them down, deep within where the monster lies... Because to do more... To be more... That is the beast that will have to be unleashed... A monster created by others...
To do the bidding of one.
I work my way from my bedroom door to what we suspectly call a kitchen - a small poky corner of the lounge room with two counter-tops a fridge and a stove... A few cupboards dotted above the counters contain basics and I swing open the fridge, leaning on the door to purvey what little is contained inside.
Walking away from my father (and his money) was a blessing, of course, if you can't afford drugs they become a lot harder to come by... But now I was stuck living with a man who, whilst I admired as a mentor and a trainer, had the drinking and sleeping habits of a kid his first year of college... And I usually wound up feeling like the "wing-man" he always teased me to be...
"...Hi" a ridiculously cutesy voice rises up from behind the open fridge door.
I take a moment to roll my eyes before closing the fridge and fixing the fakest smile I can muster on my face. The tiny little blonde... thing... Before me is the girl from the bar last night. She smiles nervously at me but shrinks back slightly and I realize I a not smiling at her, but almost snarling.
"Uh... Have you seen my..."
I reach below the countertop and pull out a large plastic container, as I slam it down on the floor in front of her, various female articles drop out and around it... I then point over to the couch -or- "lounge" area.
"In here, or over there... Otherwise, cut your losses." I shrug and move to turn back to the fridge.
She kind of dithers on the spot for a moment and then clears her throat, or makes some stupid little squeaking noise which I presume is that, I suppress my growl... A mix of hunger, frustration and tiredness and glance back at her through the corner of my eye.
"Yes....?" my tone is not inviting nor do I want it to be.
"I'm sorry - I didn't know..." she smiles sadly and I slam the fridge shut again.
Stepping right up into her face, which isn't hard, given the kitchens size, I lean down, my nose almost touching hers, my breath moves the blonde hair tucked behind her ear and her eyes flash with genuine fear.
"Didn't know what?" I manage to say the words in an almost calm fashion.
"About Alex..." she doesn't finish the sentence...
Mostly because that growl I had been suppressing makes it's way out of my chest and she backs up slightly, grabbing a purse from the back of a chair as she passes it, she reaches the front door and holds her hands up in an apology. The idiocy of these girls gets more extreme every single day... Just because they think with what nestles between their legs doesn't mean we all do.
There's no difference between men and women these days - makes sense in a lot of ways - but makes too many excuses for whores like Naomi to pass off a one night stand as doing me a favor... She isn't the first but god I wish she'd be the last.
The door slamming behind her pulls me from my own thoughts and I turn back to the fridge one last time, as I do so, Alex emerges. The epitome of Neanderthal man, one hand in his shorts scratching, the other rubbing his stubbly cheeks as he yawns. He heavy foots his way over and leans on the counter-top he simply regards me quietly for a moment, a small smile on his face.
"Where's Naomi?" it's almost with a laugh he says it.
"Musta had a train to catch..." I shrug, pulling eggs and milk from the fridge.
"Uh huh... You OK?" his voice changes slightly and I sigh before turning to face him.
"Once Alex... Just once." I place the milk and eggs down in front of him, turning away to find a frying pan.
I turn back twirling the pan in my hand I set it down next to the milk and eggs.
"Once what?" he grabs my arm to keep me focused on our conversation.
"I'd like to go out and NOT end up being a third wheel to your slut party of two..." I lean against the fridge, folding my arms across my chest.
"It's not always two..." I can't help but laugh and I slap him playfully on the arm.
"Can't teach an old dog new tricks huh?" I ask with a smile and he laughs "And you're certainly an OLD DOG... Pancakes?"
He rubs his hands together excitedly and nods.
"With bacon?"
“know yourself and you will win all battles”
Doc Henry.... That's a name I have heard more often than I'd like throughout my career, I'm not gonna lie to you.
But see, here's the thing about Doc, we've hated each other, we've battled it out and verbally destroyed each other... We've pushed one another to our physical limits and we've even played a few dead man's hands between us... But there is one thing that Doc and I have never done - and that's take it too far.
The way that I left WCF, the atrocities performed at the hands of a power insane... I don't want to say bitch... Fuck it, yes I do... BITCH - is something that a man like Doc Henry would never do. Love him or hate him, the guy has integrity when it comes to this sport and as much as I have enjoyed handing his ass to him in the past... And as much as I STILL want to make him pay for the... Spit Cup incident... I have to respect the man.
He has stayed and thrived in a place that chews you up and spits you out like cannon fodder, he has not only maintained his status here, but he has improved, he is a constant push of his own character, a non-stop strive to achieve more than he did before... And he doesn't do this at the expense of others, Doc Henry is not a man looking to end careers...
And that's where I have him.
See Doc, I respect you, that's true - you're a hell of a wrestler and an all around good guy. But that's where it ends... I came back here with a point to prove and the powers that be have seen fit to throw you at me as the first hurdle... Nothing has really changed between us Doc, I am still younger, still faster, I still understand your every weakness and I can... and WILL still beat you.
Not because I am the best, not because you can't quite keep up... Because I am hungry for it - you have morals, you have a standpoint... ME? I just want to see the people who deserve it... Suffer. And if that means some collateral damage along the way, if that means I am going to have to bend, break and snap people like you to get there... So be it.
This game, is by any means necessary, there's no place for niceties and friendships, everyone turns on you in the end.. I have been not only a victim, but a purveyor of that truth... You think Steve Orbit or Scott Savage thought I would go that far? Hell, Steve mother-fucking Orbit trusted me TWICE and why....? Because you all buy it!
I could sit here and smile real sweet at the camera and say how excited and honored I am to be back... I could light up my doe eyes and stare down the lens with a little pout and talk about how I pinky promise to be a good girl this time and I just wanna braid hair and hold hands with the roster... And you'd all lap it up.
Like you always did.
This isn't about being a role model, this isn't about selling shirts or having little girls wanna be just like me when they grow up. This isn't even really about winning -this is about pain. This is about retribution... This is about me taking my opportunity to make those who partook in my downfall, pay for what they did with blood, sweat and tears!
You may not be willing to end careers, you may not be willing to go out there and tear someone apart beyond the boundaries of the match... But me? I still remember the bounty on my head, I still remember the hands of that sexually inadequate son of a bitch wrapped around my throat damn near killing me - and not even in the good way... - And THAT is my driving force.
The sounds that sledge hammer made... The pain of recovery learning to fucking WALK all over again with so many damn pins in my ankles and legs that I am an airport security staff's worst nightmare.. All of that, the pain, the suffering, the waiting, it is all going to be worth it when I make them pay.
So tell yourself I am sorry Doc, when I am grinding your face into the mat with my boot, remind yourself that it isn't for YOU when I leave you there as nothing but a streak of blood to be remembered as and you keep repeating just whose fault it is when you're thankful to be able to walk away from our match...
Because last time I was in a WCF ring.... I couldn't.
“To know your Enemy, you must become your Enemy.”
The light shining through the huge old window that takes up practically an entire wall only seres to highlight the millions of particles of dust being kicked up in the old gym. The sound of boots on scuffed, unpolished wood floors, sounds almost like shushing in the background. I tilt my head to one side and watch the particles interact as they rise from the floor only to flutter back down.
There are faint work out noises coming from rooms surrounding this one, mostly the sounds of fists hitting punching bags, weights clanging as hey rest back together and the gee-up voices of the coaches shouting directions to their protégés... I laughed a little to myself, thinking of how only a year ago, just the smell of this place would have been enough to put me off.
It's surprising how quickly you can adapt when you don't have a choice... When no one really quite gets it. After the reconstruction, my appetite for pain pills wasn't exactly starved... And my father once again proved his old adeage of throwing money at the problem.... I know a part of Alex still didn't understand how I could simply walk away from all that - but the money... Money corrupts and not in the good, super villain way...
In the, I can do what I w ant because I can buy you ten times over way... I want my revenge, I want justice... But I want to TAKE it, not buy it... The pain in my legs, the constant dull ache of metal on bone serves as a reminder for why I am here - What pushed me to survive and what has given me the confidence, to come back and seek my vengeance....
"Are you gonna sit on your ass all day Chubbs?" Alex's mocking tone pulls me from my inner self.
I raise my head and stare him down slowly, he is bouncing around the creaking old practice ring like a Duracell bunny.. Waving at me and baiting me to the ring. I sigh and toss the tape I had been passing between my hands in thought into my kit bag, pushing up to roll under the bottom rope into the ring.
"Graceful..." he scoffs and I step forward, shoving both hands on his chest.
He stumbles back slightly, with a smirk he shrugs it off and comes at me - we trade blows and locks for a while, nothing exciting o indulgent - no need to injure in a practice as he always liked to remind me in the early days... I feel myself growing a little bored, the same routine over and over... Train, get stronger... Train, get faster... Push yourself, don't give up... Just keep...
"OW!" the screech leaves me as I am slammed unceremoniously on my head into the centre of the canvas.
Alex bounces around me and claps his hands together as I roll up into a sitting position, his voice is elevated but not quite a yell.
"You're holding back..." he smacks me around the head a couple of times like an annoying buzzing fly.. "Where's the hunger?"
I stick a foot out and sweep him off his legs, planting him face first into the canvas as I roll out the ring, unwinding the tape on my hands wildly I fling it to the floor and grab my kit bag, walking quickly from the room.
I can't explain the feeling that rises in me, like a bile that burns my throat... But it feels like I am going to be sick. The emotion hits me like a brick wall and I stop, I throw my hands down to grabs my knees and pant heavily, there's nothing going in.. No oxygen.. I can't breathe... What have I done?!
"Ana?" his voice is a question of concern but I cannot move.
He jogs up and stops in front of me, bending to rest his hands on his own knees, in order to catch my eye. My breathing eases a little and I can feel a rush of air to my lungs, I straighten slowly and run a hand through my hair. Looking around I try to ignore the voice in the back of my head, but it's like he hears it too...
"It's going to be OK Ana..." he reaches out, pats my arm, I pulls back. "Hey - You didn't bring me with you to sit back and look pretty..." He laughs.. I don't.
I step back and shake my head, clasping my hands to the back of it and I breathe slow and heavy, measuring my words.
"You can't be there to save me Alex..." I look at him slowly "I want you here to help me with the Personal stuff..." I glance down for a moment, then back at him "But in that ring, you can't... I have to be strong enough to do this..."
"You are!" He interjects with such a confidence it makes me laugh...
"Maybe so - but I'm scared Alex... I don't think anyone can deny me that..." I drop my hands down and stare at my fingers which pick at each other.
This feels weak, this admission, like somehow I am less for acknowledging the truth... Of course I am scared... There are enough people still out for blood whether they've reared a head yet or not - and it's not something you just forget... Not any of it. He steps forward again and grabs me by both arms as if he wants to shake me... But he doesn't.
"Scared? Ana 'Fucking' Valentine is scared...?" Alex shakes his head slowly "The only thing you're afraid of is failing Ana..." He lets me go and steps back with a shrug "You did it - you came back... You already succeeded..."
I laugh slightly and shake my head, leaning in to him for a half hug before I step back and shake out my whole bod, shaking the emotions off, burying them down, deep within where the monster lies... Because to do more... To be more... That is the beast that will have to be unleashed... A monster created by others...
To do the bidding of one.
