August 15, 2018, 03:07:18 AM

Author Topic: No Poetic Device  (Read 151 times)

0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.

Offline Anastasia Hayden

  • Champions
  • Member
  • Posts: 99
  • Karma: +5/-0
    • View Profile
No Poetic Device
« on: January 17, 2018, 03:14:58 AM »

Days gone by.

And the house was still as silent as ever. Still as empty as ever. Anastasia sat on the couch, her feet propped up onto the coffee table, and her eyes absently staring at the blank television. There was no hum from an outside world, let alone anything happening in Ana’s. No voices, but her own. Bronx wasn’t home. And honestly, that was probably better for the time being. But that didn’t change the fact that Ana wanted someone to bullshit with. Someone to make her laugh or just someone to laugh at.

Of course, his voice wasn’t the only one absent. Perhaps the most important one in her life was missing. The voice of reason. Hutch spent most of his time with Spencer. Not that Ana blamed him and she certainly wasn’t going to try and rip away a father from his daughter. She still felt guilty for it. And guilty that she wasn’t there with him now. But there was only so much time she could spend in a hospital. But maybe there was something to learn from all this. Or maybe Ana just needed to be away from everyone.

Beating Cyrus Riddle hadn’t gone as planned. It didn’t go at all. Ana needed to beat him. After everything she said, she needed to beat Cyrus Riddle. But she didn’t. She got distracted and the world ate her alive for her mistake. Ana fucked up and there was nothing she could do about it now. Well, there was something.

Breaking down. And she knew that option all too well, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t become the person Cyrus Riddle penned her to be. One loss wasn’t going to define her year. Letting everything fall apart wasn’t who she was anymore. At least, that was what she believed. Something just to comfort her for the time being. The humiliation of falling so short was enough company to get her through the night anyway. It was like Bryan all over again, but not as bad, if that was enough to soften the blow.

None of it made the situation particularly easier. Ana just felt numb to it all. As much as she didn’t want Riddle’s prophecy to come to life, she wasn’t exactly doing much to counter it either. The hole she was starting to burn through the television with her idle eyes could wait as she started to drag herself off the couch.

“Alright...let’s get going.”

She mumbled as she shuffled toward the window; hoping that it’d come out more inspired than it actually did. Instead, Ana felt like the cold, grey sky outside. Like the snow that covered the grass, just waiting for the sun to return, and wipe it out. She too felt like she was simply wrestling until she couldn’t anymore and then she’d vanish into the background. Vanish and become exactly the person she hated. Not like that was an unfamiliar feeling.

No, instead, Ana wanted to feel happy. Excited. The upcoming Adrenaline was a chance for her to wrestle against Bronx before their PPV match and more importantly, it was an early chance to beat him again. The thought brought a small smile to her face; a hopelessly bright beacon on an otherwise bleak face. The thought made her nervous too. Nervous knowing what the war the two went through last time. Not just in the ring, but out of it.

Ana and Bronx put everything on the table. Nothing was hidden from anyone. They made their feelings and intentions clear. Just like Ana and Bryan, they told the world why they hated each other and they were going to fight until it wasn’t an issue anymore. Competitive souls always unknowingly striving for someone else’s approval. For Ana, it was always just about proving it to herself. To know she could prove that she was the best in the world.

For Bronx? It was everyone else’s approval. He had to make himself a martyr. Give a war cry to everyone on Twitter to drum up their support. Find a reason to go to war. Ana watched Bronx do to Dakota on Twitter. And she watched Dakota fall for the bait. A lot of people did. That negative energy is what Bronx feeds off of. Ana didn’t need that. She needed to be better than that. Better than Bronx.

“I hope...”

But many tried to be better than Bronx and even fewer succeeded. Though, Ana took Jair beating Bronx as some sign of hope. Positivity even. To him, Jair was a must-win. A match that he had to win and one he was going to win. But Bronx learned the hard way that wouldn’t be the case. Just like Ana did. Now the two were on the same paths yet again, linked earlier than their allotted time.

Though, they had their weights. Dakota for Ana and Viduus for Bronx. Two relative unknowns to them. Of course, Ana knew Dakota and all his history, but this was their first time truly stepping into the ring with one another. Same with Viduus. And there was always that air of uncertainty when it came to a tag match. An uncertainty that made Ana uneasy. It was bad enough that she fell to Cyrus at the last Adrenaline, now she’d have to rely on teamwork to drag her out of the pit.

The same pit Marquis fell down.

That thought alone brought Ana back down to the couch, where she just slid off, and fell on the floor; eyes piercing the ceiling. She beat her chest, screaming that she wouldn’t make the same mistakes that Persephone made against Bronx, and yet...here she was. Except there’d be no week off. No time to recover. Every week, the intensity needed to be upped. Ana worked her way here and now she had to work her way toward staying here.

But all of that went away for a moment. As Ana turned her head, she spotted something underneath the couch. Reaching past all the dust and various debris on the floor, Ana grabbed what looked like a Christmas gift that somehow got lost in the mix. She flipped it over over and read the tag.

“For Bronx.”

From Ana.

Ana peeled back the wrapping paper, just enough to see wood framing. A few more inches and the glass was clear. Behind it, a framed picture of Bronx Valescence and Anastasia Hayden, the two best friends, celebrating their victory over Marquis and Zombie at a Waffle House of all places. She sighed. The last thing she wanted to see. Something to remind her of their friendship. Something that was going to be torn apart in the coming weeks.

When she wanted to focus on what was becoming her family, she couldn’t. When she wanted to talk and train with her best friend, she couldn’t. The longer she looked at the picture, the more the realization began to hit her. There was no Hutch. No Bronx. Not at the moment. There was only one person in her house to support her. Only one person there to tell Ana that she could beat Bronx Valescence and Viduus Morta with or without Dakota Smith.

As Ana stood up, walking toward the kitchen, she truly realized who that person was. Someone who had started to get lost in the mix, but the absence of everyone else brought them back to the spotlight. Just where they thrived.

She needed to be strong on her own.

Ana clutched the partially wrapped picture in her hand, taking one more look at it. Focusing on the 4CW Champion. On the man she’d be going to war with in just a few days.

She needed to be the Anastasia Hayden that beat Bronx Valescence.

With no hesitation, Ana threw the picture straight into the trash. That part of her life was temporarily on hold. Maybe permanently. It was impossible to know what was next. But one thing was certain.

She was ready to become that Anastasia Hayden again.



Once the cameras started rolling, it was go time as Anastasia Hayden already had her eyes narrowed, already had the familiar cold glare locked on, and already had the stern, emotionless expression painted on.

“I suppose this is the point where I say I’m excited to be facing Bronx so soon and that we’ve both changed a lot since I last beat him. But in reality, not a single thing has changed. Bronx is still that scared little boy who knows that if he doesn’t have that 4CW Championship on his shoulder? He’s fucking useless. Look what happened when he lost to Manny. Useless. And just like last time, Bronx wants to act like losing the championship won’t bother him...like he’s still the coolest fucking person in the room. Who can blame him?”

“People still take every single world of his like gospel. Bronx’s ego has inflated so much, he can’t see how big of a joke he’s becoming. It’s fitting that I’m teaming with some wannabe cult leader because Bronx Valescence isn’t all that different. He’s got the power to make people accepting of another and he’s got the same power to banish them. He needs their validation and if they don’t give it to him? They’re useless to him. And yet...people still eat it up. Because they want to be in that golden circle of his. I guess it’s pretty hypocritical of me to say that given that I’m in that circle.”

“But unlike Bronx...I’ve got the awareness to see what he’s become. The moment I won the 4CW Championship contender match, I knew what I had to do. I brought him down to Earth once...I’ve got to do it again. I know losing to Jair already put a slight chink in that armor. You should’ve heard Bronx tell me how easy he thought that match was going to be. How confident he was in beating Jair Hopkins. But he didn’t. HE fucking failed. And like every loss, Bronx rushed to Twitter, ‘Losing actually fuels me! I’m HAPPY I lost! Hey, guys, I fucking lost, but I put on a Match of the Night! Because all I really care about is your validation! Hope you hit that heart button for me.’”

An elongated roll of the eyes from Ana; a truly disgusted look on her face.

“Bronx will act like he’s better than Sativa or whomever celebrates on Twitter...but he’s not. Bronx rushed to Twitter because god forbid he let his opponent have their spotlight for a brief moment. It’s damage control 101. When I lost to Cyrus? I didn't care. Why should I? One loss isn’t going to define me. I can take that because, unlike Bronx, I’ve built my name on rebounding better than anyone else. I lost at Fright Night and then I went on to single-handedly beat Bronx’s next contender Persephone Marquis and then I destroyed Bryan Williams. So it shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone that I’m back here and it shouldn’t be a surprise to Bronx unless he’s just the dumbest mother fucker here in 4CW.”

As soon as the last sentence escapes from Ana’s mouth, she shrugs, knowing that may not be too far-fetched.

“Which...don’t rule that out. Don’t get me wrong, Bronx might not always be the brightest, but he lucks his way into everyone else saying something just as stupid that he can latch onto. That’s all Bronx needs. One sign of weakness. It’s basic, but that’s fitting for our hero, isn’t it? A very basic tale. A man corrupted by his greed. A warrior fighting not for honor, but for glory and gold. And you know, Bronx, I can almost respect that. If only you’d just admit you sold out your morals for gold. Should I be surprised to see ‘Corporate Bronx’ return just like he did the last time we faced?”

“You’ve hung around Chris Callum for too long. You mocked him for so long...you’ve become just like him, Bronx. And maybe Chris is right...without him? There’s no Bronx Valescence. There’s no 4CW Champion. It really shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone with common sense to know that Bronx needs someone to lean on. Whether it be Chris, Bryan, Kennedy, me, or whoever else is beneficial for the time being. Bronx, the golden boy, is so quick to sell out the people who got him where he is. All because he wants that glory for himself. He praises others? When it benefits him. He praises others before those that actually helped him get to where he is.”

Bronx Valescence is a fucking joke. A dangerous fucking joke though. And speaking of danger, I know Bronx has a lot of reasons to win this tag match. I know his love affair with Tara didn’t pan out and now he’s got to beat down Dakota to prove that he’s the better man or some bullshit. Mighty inspiring stuff, Bronx. And of course, Bronx needs to beat me. This tag match might be Bronx’s only chance because I have to hope Dakota Smith doesn’t fuck it up. And that’s a big hope. He’s already shown that he’s grown weak. ‘The Butcher’ beat Kimi Zombie after Kimi’s been put through the fucking gauntlet...and he...bragged about it? Jesus Christ.”

She shakes her head and looks up toward the ceiling, trying to come to terms with it all before letting out a sigh and glaring back at the camera.

“Absolutely terrifying. About as spooky as Cyrus or Viduus. Which, speaking of Viduus, welcome back to the land of the living. Back from licking your wounds because you’ve suffered embarrassing loss after loss. Trust me, there’s nothing scarier than a man, no, a MONSTER losing to a high-class soccer mom. But to your credit, Viduus, anytime before that? I’d probably be a bit scared. But the light has shined on you and I see that you’re no different than Bronx, Viduus. Another man living with these false images of himself. Or I guess you’re whatever The Speaker says you are.”

“Well allow me to speak for the both of you and simply call you a bitch straight to your face. I guess you and Dakota have some lover’s quarrel going on, which that’s great, but do me a favor and try to leave me out of it. It’s already bad enough that I’ve got a man trapped in 2015 as my tag team partner yapping at me like some dog...I don’t need your paranormal ass trying to drag me down with you idiots. And don’t dare look to Bronx for help, Viduus. He won’t be there for you. He’s a coward.”

Ana scoffed; burned one too many times by Bronx’s word with teams.

“Hell, I’d be amazed if Bronx actually knows who the fuck Viduus Morta is. In his little notebook about everyone, there’s probably not even a section dedicated to you. And, honestly? I don’t blame him. You’re never around long enough for anyone to actually give a fuck about you, Viduus. Dakota’s giving you the time of day, but let’s be honest, it’s not like there’s much going on for ‘The Butcher’ when he’s not babysitting. Bronx doesn’t respect you. I certainly don’t. So the ball’s in your court to prove me wrong. Prove Bronx wrong. And if you can shut Dakota up? I might actually respect you a bit for that.”

“But I’m not going to do what Bronx does. I’m not going to shine anyone up before I beat them. I know what you WERE capable of, Viduus, but that man is gone. I grew out of my fear of monsters a long time ago once I learned they weren’t real and I think everyone else around here is finally starting to catch up. I wish I could say that you were going to stand up, raise hell itself, but...you can’t. You’re nothing more than smoke and mirrors, Viduus. And you can only blame yourself.”

“You don’t have that advantage Bronx does. You can’t lose and have a million people there to help you back up to your feet because they too know how frail your ego is. No...there’s simply no one fucking there for you, Viduus. Because no one cares. No one cares anymore that you were this vicious XTV or ETV or whatever the fuck TV Champion. Because they don’t see that man anymore. They just see you for what you are, Viduus. Weak. Like all you monsters tend to be. Weak. And you’re all the same. You all do it.”

A simple shrug to discredit the monster’s appeal.

“The reign of terror can only last for so long before people simply aren’t afraid. So when that bell rings, I don’t give a fuck if I’m standing across Viduus or the fucking Devil himself...I’m not scared. I wasn’t scared when I faced Cyrus. I wasn’t scared when I faced Alexis Mercer. Why should you be the exception to that rule, Viduus? Or, better yet, why should anyone? I’ve never been afraid to step into a ring against anyone. Allegiance or not. Friendship or not. You’re all the same to me. Which is to say...you’re all beatable.”

“Winning this tag match...I don’t really care. All I really want to do is just step in and watch the chaos around me unfold. I want to see if ‘The Butcher’ can truly live up to his name against Bronx or if he’ll just continue to live up to my low expectations. Will I see the Viduus that was willing to bleed time and time again for gold...or will I see the Viduus who lost to Carmella Wilder and had to go into hiding for a few weeks until everyone forgot?”

“Will I get the Bronx Valescence who won Wrestler of the Year? Or will I get the Bronx Valescence that’ll quickly throw his friend under the bus just like last time...and the time before that...and before that and before that and, well, just about any time it’s benefited him? Because I feel like I’m gonna see that Bronx because that’s the only way Bronx can cope with the fact that I’m better than him. For your sake...for your health...hell, for our friendship? I hope to God you win, Bronx. I hope Viduus is the right person for you to lean on again, but I promise you he won’t be.”

Ana shows a knowing smirk.

“Because I know the Anastasia Hayden that’s coming to this tag match. I know the Anastasia Hayden who is going into this match ready to carry a 4CW Hall of Famer to the finish line. The same Anastasia Hayden who beat Bronx Valescence. And the same one who will do it this week and then do it again at Retrograde. I’m not here for glory, I’m not eyeing the gold yet...I’m just here to continue to prove why I’m the hardest working wrestler in the world. After Riddle, I’m not letting any of you fucks try and outshine me at Adrenaline. Viduus and Bronx? Dakota? You need to learn that’s my show. And I’ll prove it. When I beat Bronx right in the center of that ring.”

She shakes her head and taps her chest with her two fingers.

“That’s the Anastasia Hayden you need to beat, Bronx...but you won’t.”

Ana’s eyes narrow again as she looks at the camera; solely focusing on one person.

“You never WILL!”

The sudden outburst even catches Ana off guard, but her piercing glance never strays away as the scene fades to black.