August 15, 2018, 03:05:08 AM

Author Topic: Imagination  (Read 128 times)

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Offline Aidan Carlisle

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« on: January 17, 2018, 01:34:55 AM »
“Nnngh! Baby, not so hard.”

Aidan’s heart fluttered as she locked eyes with Liam, watching the determination in her husband’s expression soften for a moment, before that oh-so-handsome smirk of his crept across his face. It made goosebumps crawl across her skin. Every. Single. Time. Nonetheless, his touch lightened as he rubbed a small bead of antibiotic ointment over the cut he had just finished pulling glass from.

“Forgive me, babe. I forgot ye are such a delicate thing, bruising like a peach.”

She giggled at the jest, the girlish timbre of it a morbid juxtaposition to the match she had just won, the task at hand, and the pile of bloody white ring gear on the floor. The locker rooms were far enough from the main portion of the Smoothie King Arena that it was quiet for the two of them. Rather than go see the 4CW medical staff, Liam had insisted on taking care of her himself.

“How’s it look back there?”

She twisted slightly, trying to get a glimpse of her back in the mirror. She could see the growing bruises and the stark red lines of the cuts against her fair skin, most of which he had finished with. The motion, however, unleashed a chain reaction of aches and stinging sensations, capped off by the swat he gave to the side of her leg with one massive hand.

“Sit still, woman, I’m not done.”

But it was hard to sit still. The adrenaline was liquid fire in her veins; a high that only those who had been there would ever understand. The two burns from the taser on her side, the pieces of glass from the light tube in her back, even the deep cut at the edge of her hairline—held precariously closed with butterfly tape for the moment—had an intoxicating pulse all their own. Her eyes fluttered closed and her head tilted back as she savored it.

“God, I feel so good right now. Did you see the way Amber’s body bounced off the steps like a rag doll? Or the look on Kinsley’s face when I shoved that taser into her neck? Mmph. Makes me feel… alive.”

‘Alive’ isn’t what you really mean.”

It wasn’t. The murmur of his voice in her ear sent a chill up her spine like no other. She twisted around to face him on the bench, ignoring both his sigh and her own body’s protests. Her hands curled around one of his, holding it to her chest.

“This is me, Liam. This is who I am, who I have been since before we ever met. Since 2008 when I was in England. Since I dislocated my finger in that match and Belinda started calling me the Queen of Extreme.”

She held out her pinky like it had been stuck that day, angled out like someone sipping from a cup of tea, which had led her tag partner and flatmates to give her the nickname. The big Irishman’s hands came to rest on either side of her neck, thumbs cradling her jaw. He smiled at her for a moment before kissing her forehead, goatee brushing against the bandaged cut there.

“I know, and I don’t want ye to be anything else. Don’t ever be less than you are. Not for anyone, especially not for me.”

Aidan would have hated how his words almost made her blush, if she hadn’t had other things on her mind. She bit her lip in that contemplative way she had for a few moments before she surged forward, capturing Liam in a heated kiss. He barely managed to catch her and keep the pair of them from falling off of the bench as she began to yank open the buttons of his shirt.

“Alright, you’re going to feel a little prick.”

For a moment as the phlebotomist worked, Aidan couldn’t help but wonder if that was the same warning Eli gave Genie at night. She held back her snicker, not wanting to have to explain to the woman why she was giggling as the needle found her vein and settled into place. The tube quickly turned red as her lifeforce made its journey to the bag below and the polite woman handed her a little blood drop shaped squishie.

“I’ll be back to check on you in a few minutes. Just relax, this shouldn’t take long.”

It was far from the first time Aidan had donated blood, and it certainly wasn’t going to be the last. It was routine by now. Enough so that she settled into the chair and turned her gaze to the camera. She thought for a moment, steadily squeezing the squishie to keep the blood flowing.

“I suppose it’s a little ironic, sitting here in this chair doing some controlled bleeding while I ruminate on the very much uncontrolled bleeding soon to take place at Adrenaline. I’ll be collecting my third 4CW Championship. And, as I have everywhere I’ve wrestled since returning to the states almost four years ago, I’ll be achieving it within three months of my arrival, or in this case, return.

“I’ve been working toward this moment since I set foot back in 4CW. While my opponent seems to have been off almost every other show since the XTV Championship came into her possession, I’ve been putting in the blood, sweat, and tears. She may be content to sit on her ass doing and being nothing, but me? I’ve been right where I belong; in the ring. It’s where I want to be, and it’s where the powers that be know they need me.

“Why? Because when I’m in the ring, I elevate my opponent, the fight, and the show itself. Case in point: this match. Genie versus Luke Jones? Relegated to the Undercard, even when no other championships were on the line that night. It didn’t make the Headline match, either. No, that went to Jett fucking Wilder. Winter Wasteland? Not even the top of the Undercard; it was lower than a contendership match between Ana Hayden and Bryan Williams.

“Now I’m the challenger and suddenly the XTV Championship match is the Main Event of Adrenaline. You know why that is? Because, if nothing else, Wallace knows what brings in the money. He knows who people are paying to see, and it isn’t Genevie Carlson. Unless she’s about to get slaughtered by yours truly, that is.”

Keeping her arm still, Aidan adjusted her position in the reclined chair slightly. They weren’t anymore comfortable there in Oklahoma City than they were at any other blood bank in the country. Fortunately for Aidan, unlike her opponent, she didn’t shy away from a little discomfort and throw a tantrum until someone pampered her just to get her shut up.

“People hear ‘Aidan Carlisle’ and ‘extreme’ in the same sentence and they think of bloodbaths. They think of sold out arenas and standing ovation matches. They think of barbed wire, thumbtacks, brass knuckles, steel chains, and the occasional double moonsault. They hear ‘extreme’ and ‘Genie’ and they think of that No-No section on Pornhub that even the Germans won’t watch.

“Like a hundred-pound Heavyweight Champion, Genie holding the XTV is a laughing stock, no better than Carmella Wilder. People have had enough of the farce, and they’re ready to pack the Chesapeake Energy Arena to watch her get torn apart and stop disgracing the Championship. They want to watch her bleed. They want to hear her scream. They want to see if she’s still breathing by the time the final bell rings. And I am more than willing to oblige them.”

She paused, having a sip from the complimentary water that was provided. Lesser beings needed it to keep from passing out during donation. Aidan just liked to keep hydrated.

“Congratulations, Genie. You got a few scratches from the barbed wire at Fright Night and went through a table—who in this business hasn’t? Luke Jones gave you a few love taps with a leather strap. You got some staples and a light tube in the face from Dakota Smith and you went down faster than North Carolina virgin on prom night. Boo hoo hoo.

“But what have you done, Genie? What have you really done? You slammed a cage door on Tiffani Michaels’ arm at Fright Night. At Winter Wasteland you swung a chair a few times and fell off of the stage. You held the staple gun to Dakota’s head and you didn’t pull the trigger.

I have bled gallons in the ring, and spilled far more. I have had stitches beyond counting. I have broken bones, and had my own broken in turn. I’ve been burned and now even tazed. I’ve had glass and bamboo under my skin. I’ve had salt rubbed in my wounds. I’ve broken two-by-fours over faces and opened arteries. I’ve leapt from second floor balconies to make my own body a fucking weapon.

“Yet, you want to stand there and pretend that you have any concept of what ‘extreme’ actually means. Because that’s what you are. You’re a pretender. Ever since you crawled away from slurping your way to relevance in the bayou, you’ve been searching for whatever you can mimic to try and catch a little of the spotlight reflecting off of those who are better than you.”

Aidan eased her grip on the poor foam blood drop when she realized that her squeezing had stopped in a closed white-knuckle fist. She flexed her fingers once before resuming the rhythmic motion.

“The truth is, Genie, you want to be me, and we both know it. You want the success, you want to be a household name, you want to be somebody whom everyone has heard of, even if they aren’t in the business. That’s why you’re constantly seeking attention from every conceivable source, lashing out online at anyone and everyone like some mouth-breathing neckbeard in their mother’s basement. That’s why you’ve got my name in your mouth almost as much as Eli’s dick.

“You’re so goddamn pathetic that you’re grasping at every tiny straw you can and trying to use a nickname I fucking earned almost a decade ago hoping people might mistake you for me. Jesus fucking Christ you even started playing football after I did. There is nothing you have done that I have not done before you, better than you. You ride my coattails harder than you’ve ever ridden your husband. You are so goddamn desperate to get me to notice you; because you think if I see you, it somehow means you are on my level instead of me looking down the ladder at you.

“But you will never be on my level. Your delusions that two and a half months as the XTV Champion and three whole fucking extreme rules matches put you anywhere near my ten-year career of hardcore matches are evidence of that. Luke Jones breaking out a belt to spank you a few times and a tiny graze with a chair is a laughable shamble to try to hold up as a no holds barred match as it is. I can barely give you credit for three matches instead of two.

“You stumbled blindly into the XTV Championship at Fright Night. You weren’t prepared for it then and you sure as shit aren’t prepared to put it on the line against me now. Your first so-called ‘defense’ was against a man who has lost fourteen out of his seventeen matches in 4CW and can barely pull his head out of his ass long enough to take a shit. In what you’ve been touting as your great triumph, it was Viduus Morta breaking a cinderblock over Dakota’s face that took him down at Winter Wasteland, not you!

“Dakota was just getting started with you, and you were already a bloody fucking mess face down on the floor. You think a few staples and that light tube were all he had up his sleeve? You might have thought you were in hell, but I guarantee you that you weren’t even standing at it’s front door. You were done for. You know it, I know it, and every single fan out there knows it. The only reason you can still physically step into a ring right now is because Viduus Morta’s interference saved your ass.

“Tell us again how we haven’t seen what you can do with the championship, because you’re right; we haven’t fucking seen you do anything with it.”

A few glances were directed her way, but Aidan ignored them. Quickly enough everyone’s attention went back to what they had been doing. It was almost as if Genie was actually there; no one much cared when her name was mentioned.

“I have done by accident things your tiny mind can’t conjure even in your darkest, most disturbing dreams. What do you think that means for you when I act with intent? What chance do you really think you have when you stand between me and the Championship that already belongs to me?

“Oh, you’ll try. I don’t doubt for a second that you’ll try. I know that you will do anything and everything you can think of to try to retain, because that Championship is the only thing that makes you relevant. You have to cling to it for dear life or face the fact that you’re less than nothing in the world of professional wrestling. Trouble is, Genie, you lack imagination.

“Everything you can think of and everything you are physically capable of still won’t be near enough to get the job done. I am not Luke Jones, and there is no Viduus Morta coming to save you from me like he saved you from Dakota. When you have given this match every last drop of yourself and thrown everything you have at me, you’ll be on your knees, staring up, empty and defeated, and I’ll still be standing tall.

“Everything you’re dreading right now deep down inside will be proven true in front of thousands upon thousands of screaming fans: You don’t have what it takes to really be in the XTV division; your fate was sealed the moment this match was announced; and I am absolutely better than you in every conceivable way. I’m a better wrestler. I’m a better woman. I’m a better person, and I will sure as shit be a much better Champion.”

The phlebotomist in her mint green scrubs stopped by, as promised. She checked the progress of the donation bag and adjusted the position of Aidan’s arm before she was on her merry way again. She seemed to be the only one on hand working.

“Now, before we draw this little poetry slam to a close, let me talk to you for a moment, Eli. You, who has publicly declared all over social media that you don’t want Genie participating in extreme matches. You, who tried multiple times to get her to vacate the belt. You, who told her you wouldn’t be there to hold her and patch her up afterward.

“I’m going to do you the favor of making that no longer an issue. After Adrenaline there will be no more XTV Championship for you two to have to argue over. There will be no more hardcore matches in her near future. I’ll be the Champion, and you can swoop in to the rescue. You’ll even have the added benefit of all that extra in-home care she’ll be needing when I’m done with her.

“You put her face back together with glue and butterfly tape. You can dig the minefield of debris from under her skin. You can whisper to the both of you in the dark about how the fractures will heal. You can count the shattered pieces and make sure they’re all still there. Hell, if you’re the right type you can even donate a little blood like I am to re-inflate her from what I leave splattered all over the arena. But most of all, the next time she thinks about getting out of her lane, you can remind her what happened the last time she tried to fuck with her betters.”

The big-haired woman returned once again. Satisfied with the level of blood in the bag, she crimped the tube, sealed it up, and cut it so the donation could be moved to cold storage. With years of expertise, she extricated the needle from Aidan’s arm and wrapped it up with that clingy sort of medical tape. With the bandage in place, Aidan headed to the front desk with the woman ahead of her to finish up.

“Were you a directed donor today?”

“Yes. Genevie Carlson is going to be needing it in about a week.”

The phlebotomist nodded. Her long fingernails tapped away at the keys on the ancient computer in front of her. All the while she stared over the rim of her tiny square glasses. She was still as cheery as ever when she spoke.

“Give the poor dear our best wishes.”

Once again, the brunette had to keep herself from laughing. She held it together long enough to get her donor card back. Even so, she knew she was starting to smirk.
“Oh, I will. I promise.”

The woman handed over the post-donation juice box and cookies Aidan was waiting on, and she stepped out onto the sidewalk. The grin on her face grew as she moved leisurely through the midday crowd. After a moment, she looked back to the camera again.

“Don’t ever say I wasn’t kind to you, Genie. Don’t ever say I never gave you anything. I know how badly you want to be me. Well, here’s your chance to really play the leech; a pint of 4CW’s best, all ready and waiting for you after our match. Maybe with some of my DNA in you, you might even develop a little talent. Too bad it will be too late for you to hang on to the XTV Championship.”

The scene faded to black with the sound of giggling.