Post by wblstudios on Mar 15, 2006 16:23:40 GMT -5
It never got there! Why did it never get there? God damnit, what do I keep you around for?
I'm sorry. I swear, I gave it to him.
Don't you fucking lie to me. Don't you EVEN fucking lie to me!
Ow... please... please stop... I'm sorry...
Why do you make me do these things to you? Do you think I like it?
Yes...
You fucking...
Oh shit... look at her neck...
---
Hotel Room
2:15 AM
The covers were thrust aside violently as Ellis, who'd apparently dozed off several hours ago, is forced back into the waking world by something she couldn't hold on to... and honestly, didn't really want to. It took a while for her to realize she was still in her hotel room... alone, thankfully, as the WCF decided not to make their only full-time female wrestler bunk with some man who might try to take advantage of her... and not back... wherever.
She wasn't going back to sleep again. This wasn't a guess. She was determined not to go back to sleep again. There was something... someone... waiting for her there. Back in the deepest recesses of her mind, of her past.
A couple of teary eyes, a quick shower to wash off the terror sweat, and a change of clothes (Trading 'Victim of the Crossface' for 'Funk U') later, Ellis was out in the lobby of the hotel, making her way into the desolate night air. The previously mild summer-like temperatures were gone, and the recent cold-snap was back with a vengeance. But Ellis only had to deal with it for as long as it took to hunt down her car in the parking lot, a rusted-down cheap piece of jet-black crap given to her as a gift from a friend at the Funkin' Dojo, her home for several months.
Ellis never bothered to buckle her seatbelt. Seatbelts save lives, and she knew that. She just felt that her life wasn't worth saving. Those who didn't know all that much about her past, what she'd been through, thought that all of her scar tissue was from barbed wire, not from an unloving father. Her last night at the Funkin' Dojo, involving a hardcore match with the Living Legend himself, was what had brought her the attention of the wrestling world, and eventually the invite she was about to take up now.
Eventually the tension, the pain, the screaming voices in the back of her mind, forced her to pull over. Thankfully, she was able to retain the presence of mind to pull over to the side of the road instead of slamming into a mile marker doing 90 and trying to end it all... again.
They kept screaming the same sort of things. The voices were indistinguishable, lurking only in her mind, but the messages were the same. You're not good enough. You're not strong enough. You don't have what it takes. You're going to go on television and embarass yourself. You're nothing. You're just a worthless bitch who only got here because the Living Legend had pity on you. Nobody's gonna take you seriously. Nobody's gonna even want to wrestle a freak like you, a scarred up...
Ellis: STOP IT!!!
It always happened. She knew what would shut them up. She could argue with them all night but they wouldn't shut up. Showing an eerie, emotionally fueled strength belying her frail size, a fist burst at high speed right through the driver's side window, shattering it and then turning back into a hand that searched for a good sized chunk. Finding one, the shard of glass that was once meant to protect the driver began to harm, driving in slow, methodical lines across her forearms, finding and striking paydirt immediately as blood began to trickle down.
This wasn't going to be enough. The pain wasn't going to be enough tonight, the still air coming in as that shard of glass found it's way past the stringy, withered hair of the broken girl, finding it's next target... and carving a crude X into it's forehead.
The voices seemed to fade away as all Ellis concentrated on was the blood slowly trickling down her face. It was an odd sight for the police officer who'd pulled over to see if she was alright, if her car had broken down, if she'd been assaulted, as all she could do was stare at him with dead violet eyes and say in a cold, flat voice...
Ellis: I'm having a bad day.
But she'd take physical pain over emotional pain any day.
In fact, she took it every day.
And secretly, she looked forward to the day when she could give some back. And the first on her list, the first show, the first beating given by the girl who's gotten so many, was going to be against Criss Angel.
Mind freak indeed.
---
~Ellis
I'm sorry. I swear, I gave it to him.
Don't you fucking lie to me. Don't you EVEN fucking lie to me!
Ow... please... please stop... I'm sorry...
Why do you make me do these things to you? Do you think I like it?
Yes...
You fucking...
Oh shit... look at her neck...
---
Hotel Room
2:15 AM
The covers were thrust aside violently as Ellis, who'd apparently dozed off several hours ago, is forced back into the waking world by something she couldn't hold on to... and honestly, didn't really want to. It took a while for her to realize she was still in her hotel room... alone, thankfully, as the WCF decided not to make their only full-time female wrestler bunk with some man who might try to take advantage of her... and not back... wherever.
She wasn't going back to sleep again. This wasn't a guess. She was determined not to go back to sleep again. There was something... someone... waiting for her there. Back in the deepest recesses of her mind, of her past.
A couple of teary eyes, a quick shower to wash off the terror sweat, and a change of clothes (Trading 'Victim of the Crossface' for 'Funk U') later, Ellis was out in the lobby of the hotel, making her way into the desolate night air. The previously mild summer-like temperatures were gone, and the recent cold-snap was back with a vengeance. But Ellis only had to deal with it for as long as it took to hunt down her car in the parking lot, a rusted-down cheap piece of jet-black crap given to her as a gift from a friend at the Funkin' Dojo, her home for several months.
Ellis never bothered to buckle her seatbelt. Seatbelts save lives, and she knew that. She just felt that her life wasn't worth saving. Those who didn't know all that much about her past, what she'd been through, thought that all of her scar tissue was from barbed wire, not from an unloving father. Her last night at the Funkin' Dojo, involving a hardcore match with the Living Legend himself, was what had brought her the attention of the wrestling world, and eventually the invite she was about to take up now.
Eventually the tension, the pain, the screaming voices in the back of her mind, forced her to pull over. Thankfully, she was able to retain the presence of mind to pull over to the side of the road instead of slamming into a mile marker doing 90 and trying to end it all... again.
They kept screaming the same sort of things. The voices were indistinguishable, lurking only in her mind, but the messages were the same. You're not good enough. You're not strong enough. You don't have what it takes. You're going to go on television and embarass yourself. You're nothing. You're just a worthless bitch who only got here because the Living Legend had pity on you. Nobody's gonna take you seriously. Nobody's gonna even want to wrestle a freak like you, a scarred up...
Ellis: STOP IT!!!
It always happened. She knew what would shut them up. She could argue with them all night but they wouldn't shut up. Showing an eerie, emotionally fueled strength belying her frail size, a fist burst at high speed right through the driver's side window, shattering it and then turning back into a hand that searched for a good sized chunk. Finding one, the shard of glass that was once meant to protect the driver began to harm, driving in slow, methodical lines across her forearms, finding and striking paydirt immediately as blood began to trickle down.
This wasn't going to be enough. The pain wasn't going to be enough tonight, the still air coming in as that shard of glass found it's way past the stringy, withered hair of the broken girl, finding it's next target... and carving a crude X into it's forehead.
The voices seemed to fade away as all Ellis concentrated on was the blood slowly trickling down her face. It was an odd sight for the police officer who'd pulled over to see if she was alright, if her car had broken down, if she'd been assaulted, as all she could do was stare at him with dead violet eyes and say in a cold, flat voice...
Ellis: I'm having a bad day.
But she'd take physical pain over emotional pain any day.
In fact, she took it every day.
And secretly, she looked forward to the day when she could give some back. And the first on her list, the first show, the first beating given by the girl who's gotten so many, was going to be against Criss Angel.
Mind freak indeed.
---
~Ellis
