3.31.2010
DOWNTOWN MARRIOTT HOTEL
INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA
11:39 AM CENTRAL DAYLIGHT TIME
"Terry! Wait! I'm sorry!"
"I just bet you are," Terrence Thompson muttered under his breath as he slammed the door to his 1971 blood-red Dodge Charger. He looked over at the ed-haired woman running across the parking lot. She wasn't his wife... couldn't be.
His wife would never have stabbed him in the back in the middle of a public press conference.
He immediately started the car, and peeled out in reverse, nearly hitting three other cars in the lot. The flame-haired imposter was almost upon him, but he shifted into drive, peeling out as he rammed his foot on the gas pedal. Quickly, he moved to the exit of the parking lot, turned into the street, and was gone.
"TERRY!!!! STOP!!!!" Wendy Briese screamed impotently, as the Charger sped away.
It was no use, and Wendy collapsed to the asphalt, once again breaking into sobs. It was something she was just too accustomed to doing these days.
Everytime she had tried to do the right thing, it had backfired. What was wrong with her?
And now Terrence was gone. Unlikely he would ever forgive her. And it was all her fault. For the second time in a week, she had betrayed her husband.
Could today ever possibly get any worse?
3.31.2010
THE NEST
INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA
6:47 AM CENTRAL DAYLIGHT TIME
Wendy Briese-Thompson slowly opened her eyes as the first rays of sunlight shone in through the window. At first, the temptation to close her eyes and return to the blissfull void of slumber was almost overwhelming. But something was nagging her at the back of her mind. Something big was happening today...
The press conference, that was it. Today, the world would finally get the answers to all the questions that had been burning since the WhirlyBirdz made their triumphant return Saturday night.
Today, the world would hear the new World Tag Team Champions speak.
Wendy flung the blankets off her as she rose from the bed, looking at her husband, who remained oblivious to the conscious world.
After the fight Saturday night, Wendy had cried herself to sleep, alone in her hotel room, as Terrence had steamed and raged in another room on the other end of the Motel 6. It had been one of the most miserable, lonliest nights of her life.
The next morning, Wendy had woken in a panic, fearing that her husband had abandoned her (and forgetting that Pollaski had kept Terrence's car keys to keep that very thing from happening). She had ran out in desperation, then sighed in relief as she saw the 1971 Charger was still there. Realizing her hunger had caught up with her, she had walked over to the greasy spoon adjacent to the hotel,, hoping to catch a quick bite before looking for her husband and manager.
Inside, however, eating a Denver omlette and looking like the hadn't slept all night, sat her husband.
Wendy had cautiously approached, and was relieved when Terrence hadn't turned her away. So it was over breakfast that she and her husband reconciled. Terrence had apologized for losing his temper, Wendy apologized for keeping secrets from him. After fifteen minutes, Pollaski had joined them, and after another round of apologies, the three of them were in a much sunnier mood, celebrating their previous nights victory over Eric Dane and his minions.
She was glad... the pressures of the Tag Team Championships had led to their breakup before, and she would face the entire Defiance roster in a cage match before she would ever let it happen again.
Bending over, and kissing her slumbering husband on the cheek, Wendy retreated into the master bathroom, exchanging her nightgown for a gray t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Time to get a good run in before breakfast.
Wendy slipped out of her bedroom, into the hallway. Silently, she moved towards the stairs, pausing only to look in through the open door of her daughter's bedroom, smiling at the brown haired angel all curled up in slumber, her thumb in her mouth.
Down the stairs, and into the kitchen Wendy went. She opened up the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, and set it on the counter next to a pair of ear buds. Now all she needed was her phone/MP3 player, and she'd be all set.
As she grabbed the Droid Eris her husband had gotten her for Christmas from its charger, she paused, stunned.
One missed call? Who would have called her this early? She checked the call log.
MISSED: CEROTTA, MEGAN 5:58 AM
Wendy was stunned. She hadn't talked to Megan since the day she got fired, nearly two months ago. Why had the girl called her at six o'clock?
Curious, Wendy dialed, but hung up as the call went straight through to voicemail. Seeing that Megan had left a message, she checked her own voicemail... and was horrified to hear Megan crying on the line.
"Wendy! Its Megan! Please... I have no one else... I... I'm at the theater... and he... oh God... Wendy, please... no... no... oh God... HELP ME!"
Wendy felt her innards churn as the call shut off at the last bloodcurdling scream. Megan's father had longtime been an alcoholic, and while Megan had refused Wendy's assistance, Wendy had made it clear she was a phone call away.
But what had Megan's dad done to her? Wendy filled with indignation. If he hurt that girl, she would...
No... now was not the time for thoughts of retribution. She had to help Megan, first and foremost.
"I'll be there in ten minutes," she whispered to the air.
Then grabbed the keys to her Focus and ran out of the house.
3.31.2010
DOWNTOWN MARIOTT HOTEL
INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA
11:43 AM CENTRAL DAYLIGHT TIME
Wendy Briese-Thompson heard the heavy falls of running footsteps on the concrete behind her, but didn't look up.
"Motherfucker!" she heard a familiar voice exclaim. He's gone!"
There was a pause, and then Pollaski's voice came at her again, this time from right on top of her. "Well, at least one of you's still here. Get up... you're the goddamn tag champion, you can't freakin' cry this much."
"Stop it!" Wendy tearfully snapped. "I don't care anymore!"
"Well, at least get up, you're going to get dirty, dammit."
Wendy looked up, and saw Pollaski holding an outstretched hand to her. Resignedly, she took it, and lifted herself up off the asphalt.
"Thanks" she sniffled, trying to wipe away her tears.
"Don't mention it. However, I'd REALLY fucking appreciate it if you DID mention just what the hell is going on here!"
"I... I think I just wrecked my marriage." Wendy croaked.
"Yeah, well, you did just betray your husband in front of every major pro-wrestling newsource in the nation."
"I know..." Wendy said, gulping down another fresh wave of sobs. "I didn't want to but... I..."
"Forgot April Fools isn't until tomorrow?" Pollaski demanded.
Wendy shook her head. "I had to... do it... to save... Megan"
"What... the girl from your theater?" When Wendy nodded, Pollaski continued, "save her from what?"
Wendy's emerald eyes met Dan's hazel one's. "Him"
"Him?" Pollaski asked, confused. Then it hit him "You don't mean..."
Wendy nodded miserably, and a single tear rolled a new track down her cheek.
Dan's voice filled with concern. "What happened, Wendy?"
3.31.2010
VICTOR MANDRAKE COMMUNITY THEATER
INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA
7:06 AM CENTRAL DAYLIGHT TIME
The sight of the new sign in front of Wendy's old workplace sickened her as she pulled into the parking lot. But she couldn't worry about that now.
Megan needed her help.
Surprisingly, Megan's car was nowhere to be seen as Wendy parked the car, and got out. Nor was there any sign of the girl. Wendy paused, a flash of anger hitting her... if this was Megan's idea of a joke...
Then she saw the entry doors, propped wide open, inviting her in.
Megan didn't have a key... what was going on?
Wendy slowly approached the doors, wary for any sign of danger. Through the doors she walked into the lobby, which was as dark and silent as it was when she left here every night.
"Hello? Megan?" Wendy called. "Anybody?"
Nothing but silence.
Then she saw that one of the doors to the theater was opened, as if beckoning her in.
Again, slowly and cautiously she creeped into the theater. The room was dark, but the stage lights were on, and there... on the stage...
Leaned up against a piece of background scenery, unconscious, was Megan.
"Megan!" Wendy called, running down the aisle, and bounding onto the stage. She knelt by the unconscious girl, and noticed that she had been fastened to the scenery with chains, and a rag had been placed in her mouth as a gag.
"Who did this to you?" Wendy asked quietly, as she unsuccessfully tried to remove the chains from Megan's wrists. Failing that, she tried to disconnect the chains from the scenery, but they too were fastened to the stone wall.
A stone wall?
Wendy looked at the set piece carefully. She didn't remember ever having this piece of scenery for ANY of her plays...
And then she saw the barred window, high up on the set piece... it was scenery for a dungeon.
A dungeon she had come to know all too well.
Wendy froze as the pieces clicked into place... and cursed herself for her stupidity.
All Megan Cerotta had ever wanted to do was become an actress, and today, she had gotten her wish. She was playing the title role in this play, a story based in actual events from six years ago.
The Imprisonment of Wendy Briese.
Megan woke up, and looked at Wendy. Suddenly, she began thrashing around in her chains, the gag muffling her terror filled screams.
With a growing sense of dread, Wendy realized the director of this sick production was standing right behind her.
"Hello, my dear," Victor Mandrake sneered.
Wendy gulped, cursing herself for walking into this trap. She looked at Megan, trying to tell her to settle down, then slowly turned around, making sure to keep herself directly between Megan and Mandrake.
"Hello, Victor," she said coldly.
"Do you like the set design?" Victor asked. "I thought it might have some sentimental value to you."
"Impressive," Wendy said flatly. "Did you make it all by yourself?"
"Aw, after all this time you can still recognize my handiwork. I'm touched."
Megan continued to sob.
"That's quite enough out of you," Mandrake hissed.
"Leave her out of this!" Wendy snapped. "She's just a child!"
Victor laughed.
"Child?! Hardly. She's probably experienced more life than you ever have, O Holy One. At least she knows pain and suffering. Why don't you ask her what happens when her father picks up a bottle of Jack?"
"That's none of your business, Victor." Wendy spat. "This is between you and me anyways, so leave her out of this!"
"Down to brass tacks then, is it?" Mandrake asked. "Fine. There seems to be a bit of an unresolved issue between you, me, and the World Tag Team belts that we need to discuss."
"What issue?" Wendy demanded. "I won the match, Terrence is my partner. If the executive committee holds up the match, we're the champions. Nothing to resolve."
"Wrong," Victor pointed out. "You seem to forget who it was that saved you from the clutches of Dane's servants, who won the match for you, and who, instead of taking you straight back to the castle again, delivered you into the safe arms of that idiot you call a manager. I am your partner, and we will be the tag champions. Together. Good and evil. Angel and demon. Heaven and hell."
"I don't recall it being your choice, Victor." Wendy remarked. "I suppose I should thank you for saving me, but I'm not entirely sure I prefer being indebted to you over what those four were going to do."
"Well then it should be a great consolation to you to know that you are neither indebted to them, nor I," he responded. "I'm not here to call upon debts owed to me. I'm here to call upon debts owed to another."
"What are you talking about?" Wendy demanded, her eyes narrowing in confusion.
"Stop being so naive," Victor growled. "The letter, this theater, everything I've done to you has been part of your atonement for what you did to Rick."
"You have no right to judge me." Wendy replied softly, and Mandrake smiled, knowing he had hit a nerve. "I never meant for any of that to happen. Had I known..."
"What?" he asked, cutting her off. "What would you have done, hmm? Gone to the hospital to finish the job?"
"SHUT UP!" Wendy screamed, her voice echoing through the empty theater. "I didn't want Rick dead! And I am NOT Rick's murderer! It... was... a... SUICIDE!"
"Suicides are never without cause, never without reason," Victor replied sternly, unmoved by the outburst.
"And you think I'm the reason?" Wendy asked incredulously. "I'll admit, I should have been there for him more, but he did not shoot himself because of me!"
"Stop. Fucking. LYING!!" Victor roared. "Your meddling slowly ate him away from the inside out! Did you even see what you did to him?! Of course you didn't! You couldn't get off of your pedestal long enough to look him in the eye and accept him for who he was! Instead, you wanted to change him, you wanted to try to make him into a saint. You wanted to 'save' him. For all of your determination to redeem him, for all of your tenacity to make him into the man you wished he could've been and get him away from me, the big bad wolf, you couldn't even see him through to the end! And don't even try to tell me that you didn't know. You knew he shot himself, you knew he died, but you made no effort to even attend his funeral! Have you even visited his grave?"
Wendy opened her mouth to retort, but no words could come out. She had absolutely no defense.
"That's what I thought," Victor said, seething. "So, let me make this easy for you, dear..."
Victor charged at Megan, shoving Wendy aside as she tried to stop him. Reaching behind him and producing a black tarnished .45 revolver, he placed it firmly on the back of Megan's head. She immediately started shrieking and sobbing hysterically.
"BE QUIET!!" Victor bellowed. He then looked up at Wendy. "Well?"
"NO!" Wendy screamed, regaining her balance. "She's innocent!"
"She's nothing," Victor said through clenched teeth. "It makes no difference to me if she lives or if I decorate the stage with her skull. I imagine that it makes a difference to you, though, so let me tell you what's going to happen: You're going to call a press conference, you're going to announce that we are a tag team, and that if the titles are granted to you, I will be your partner. And you're not going to tell Terrence about it until you tell everyone else at the conference."
"I..." Wendy stammered. She thought back to the last Sunday morning, when she and Terrence had reconciled their differences. "I can't just betray Terrence..."
Victor cocked the hammer of the gun with an audible click that reverberated around the theater.
"NO!" Wendy screamed again, falling to her knees. "Why are you doing this? Why do you want me?"
*KABOOM!!*
A single shot erupted from the gun as Victor shot just to the right of Megan's head. Both women shrieked as Victor put the burning barrel back on Megan's head.
"One more foolish question and the next one goes through her head."
"Stop... I'll do it..." Wendy half-sobbed. "Please don't hurt her."
"Swear it," Victor commanded. "Swear it on her life. Swear it on your child's. I want your word."
"I swear..." Wendy gulped. "On... on the life of M...Megan Cerotta... that I will name you... my tag team partner... today."
Victor's eyes narrowed.
"Good," he said. He let go of the hammer that clicked simultaneously with an audible sigh of relief from both Wendy and Megan, and put away the gun. He dug into his pocket and produced a pair of keys, tossing them to Wendy. "She's all yours."
Victor began to walk out.
"I'll see you soon, partner."
Wendy ran to Megan, immediately removing the gag from the girls mouth, and going to work on the shackles. The manacles fell away, and Wendy put her arms around Megan, trying desperately to calm the girl.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." Wendy murmured repetitively to the sobbing girl. Megan said nothing, just continued to cry into Wendy's shoulder. Wendy narrowed her eyes as the man she had just promised her career to slowly swaggered up the aisle.
As if on cue, Victor turned back around.
"Oh, and Megan my dear, do be so kind as to keep this little incident between the three of us, because if it isn't, I can pretty much guarantee that by the time I get done with you, you will wish I put that bullet through your brain. Ask Wendy, she knows. Now, keep up the good work on stage, and congratulations about getting into Stanford."
After Mandrake had finally left, Megan turned to Wendy.
"Is... is he serious?"
Wendy's emerald eyes bore into Megan's as she nodded. "I wouldn't have agreed if he wasn't"
"Now, come on," Wendy said, helping the still trembling girl to her feet. "I know you have questions, but I'd much rather answer them over breakfast right now. I'll buy."
With Wendy helping Megan, the two women worked their way up the aisle, at the top, Wendy looked back at the stage, at the sick setup Victor had arranged for her.
She would end this, one day.
One day, the world would not have to live in fear of Victor Mandrake.
3.31.2010
DOWNTOWN MARIOTT HOTEL
INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA
12:01 PM CENTRAL DAYLIGHT TIME
"Mother-FUCKER..." Dan whispered. "You gotta tell Terrence!"
Wendy nodded sadly. "I know... but will he listen?"
"Not if we're standing out here talking amongst ourselves..Come on, my rental's across the lot."
To Wendy's utter shock, Dan took off running for his car. If anything ever spoke to an urgency of a situation, Pollaski breaking into a run would be it.
Wendy followed after him. She had a marriage to save.
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