JUNE 5, 2010
SPEED CITY GYM & TRAINING CENTER
INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA
1:24 PM LOCAL TIME
Wendy Briese smiled as her husband's hand collided with her own, and immediately scrambled to the top of the turnbuckle. She narrowed her eyes at the young blonde woman lying in the ring, painfully taken out by her husband's side walk slam. For a second, Wendy paused, wondering whether she should leap now, or would be better served waiting until Elizabeth got to her feet, then ending the sparring match with the Emerald Cyclone. Impatience won the argument, and she bit her lip as she gauged the distance, and leapt.
Her form was perfect, and her aim was dead-on, and Wendy was rewarded with a wheezing sound as all the air in Elizabeth's lungs was forced out when Wendy's body crashed atop her. For a split-second, Wendy lay on top of her opponent, and Pollaski began to drop to the mat and count, but Wendy rolled off, breaking the pin.
No, not like this, she reasoned. Frog splashes may be enough to put one of the rookies the Birdz hired on as sparring partners away, but it wouldn't win her Summer Games.
No, she wasn't going to win Summer Games with frog splashes. Nor was she going to throwing people over the top rope with brute stregnth. If she was to win Summer Games, she needed to destroy her opponents mobility, their stregnth, their will to continue.
In short, she needed to make her enemies scream in pain, until they viewed elimination as a mercy.
And Wendy had one move GUARANTEED to make her opponent howl in agony.
The Banshee.
Wendy kicked her opponent onto her stomach, and quickly moved to Elizabeth's legs, crossing them, and applied her version of the Deathlock STF, clasping her hands together under Elizabeth's chin.
The rookie yelped in pain as tremendous pressure was immediately applied to her back, neck, and legs, and in just a few seconds, she was tapping the mat with her free hand. Pollaski blew his whistle, signifying the end of the practice match. Wendy frowned, unsatisfied. The little weakling hadn't even BEGAN to know true pain.
Ignoring Pollaski's repeated blasts on his whistle, Wendy pulled back harder. Elizabeth, who had taken the move without too much resistance as she expected Wendy to immediately release the hold, began to struggle. Wendy grinned as she continued to pull back, tightening the hold. Beneath her, Elizabeth whimpered, but it wasn't the throat-ripping agonized shriek she wanted to hear.
"Scream and I'll let go," Wendy hissed through clenched teeth, ignoring the girl's weakening struggles. She barely felt Pollaski's hand on her shoulder, trying to coax her off. She couldn't even hear what he was saying, as a roaring noise was echoing in her ears. Then Terrence was in the ring as well, forcefully prying her hands apart, and hauling her away from Elizabeth's body.
As Wendy shrugged off her husbands grasp, the roaring in her ears died away, as she looked down at the blonde girl in triumph.
"Cam, shut up and go get me some water!" Pollaski was barking at Elizabeth's tag partner, a well-muscled male rookie who had been blathering incoherently ever since the match ended.
"How is she?" Terrence asked in concern as he stepped around her, walking up to Pollaski, who was on his knees, rolling the unconscious Elizabeth over onto her back.
"She's breathing... and I don't THINK there's any spinal damage, but..." Pollaski trailed off as he looked up at Wendy. "What the fuck did you do that for?"
Wendy stared back at Pollaski, as if the answer was obvious. "It was a match," she simply stated.
"No, hon," Terrence interjected quietly. "The match was over for two minutes before you broke the hold. That was... uncalled for."
"Is it my fault she tapped out so soon?" Wendy complained, folding her arms across her chest. "How am I supposed to perfect my submissions when I have to let go as soon as I lock one on?"
"I don't know, Wendy, but it's not by taking liberties on our training partners!" Terrence scolded, pointing down at Elizabeth, who was still breathing rather raggedly. "You could have ended her career!"
"But I didn't," Wendy replied shortly.
"What the hell has gotten into you?" Terrence demanded.
"Nothing!" Wendy replied fiercely. "Isn't this what everyone's wanted of me? To realize my full potential?" She pointed down at Elizabeth. "That's the result. That's what awaits any member of Defiance who dares to step in the ring with me."
Terrence said nothing, only stared at her.
"What, you don't like it?" Wendy demanded. "We're going to war, Terrence. There's going to be casualties on June thirteenth, and I don't intend on being one of them."
"No, Wendy," Terrence corrected. "We're not going to war. We're going to Dallas, and we're going to wrestle in a tournament. Admittedly, its a BIG tournament, and there's a lot riding on it, but you are talking like people are going to be killed in this."
"Maybe they will," Wendy retorted. "We need to do whatever we have to do to win Summer Games. If that involves snapping a neck, then so be it. It was the fate of Heidi Christenson anyways, until that bitch turned tail and ran."
Wendy scoffed, growing rather irritated with the dumbfounded stare her husband continued to give her. She looked at him closely. There was anger in his eyes, frustration, confusion. But there was something else- fear.
Her own husband was afraid of her. The adrenaline rush from that one thought had to have been one of the greatest feelings she had ever felt.
"What's wrong, hon?" Wendy pressed, saying the last word with as much sarcasm as she could muster. "You don't like this? You're jealous that you won't be able to white knight for your sweet little wife anymore?"
Terrence scoffed, and shook his head. "I am NOT jealous."
"The hell you aren't!" Wendy retorted. "Why else did you blindside Victor at Tag Wars and cost ME a shot at the Tag Team Championships?"
"You already know why I did that," Terrence said through gritted teeth.
"No," Wendy said, "I know the fabrication you came up with as a cover story. The truth is, Terrence, you couldn't stand the thought of me and Mandrake working together. And you especially couldn't stomach the thought of me and Victor winning. You are jealous, Terrence, admit it!"
"Whoah, hang on just a second!" Terrence protested. "When the hell did this get to be about me?"
"Why shouldn't it? You made it about you at Tag Wars."
"I thought we were over that!" Terrence exclaimed. "That was almost three weeks ago."
"We're NOT over it, Terrence. Maybe you are, but I wanted that tag title! Had we lost legitimately, that would have been one thing. But no, I get screwed over by my own HUSBAND, who's supposed to love and support me!"
"I do love and support you!" Terrence said defensively.
"Do you, Terrence? Because you sure as hell don't seem supportive right now!"
"I'm supportive!" Terrence said indignantly. "I just don't want my wife doing something she's going to regret!" He beckoned to Elizabeth, who only now was starting to stir, with Pollaski and Cameron still attending to her.
"What makes you think I will regret that, Terrence?" Wendy shot back. "If the little brat is so fragile she snaps in two from a simple submission hold, she needs to get out of professional wrestling before she gets hurt. But back to YOU, Terrence. Do you even want me in Summer Games?"
"Not if you're going to be like this," Terrence muttered.
"Like WHAT, Terrence?" Wendy said, her gaze turning deadly.
Terrence paused. He knew that the most intelligent thing for him to do was to keep his mouth shut in this situation.
Ah, fuck it, he decided. Since when was Terrence Thompson known for doing the intelligent thing?
"Like a bitch," he said calmly. "I'm sorry, Wendy, but there's no other way to say it. Ever since tag wars, you've been more and more out of control. You've turned a simple us versus them wrestling match into a personal vendetta, all you're ever thinking about is destroying your 'enemies.' And the way your acting, I'm starting to think my name is on that list."
"Maybe it is," Wendy said icily. "But I would tread carefully, dear husband. Don't forget, that if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be IN Summer Games. You'd be on your way to Valparaiso to justify to the PWX how you've blown your first title shot against Jacob Wright at Full Throttle!"
Terrence recoiled from her, stung by the words. "At least I got ON the card," he muttered, his anger getting the better of him.
*SMACK!!!*
The force of the slap almost knocked Terrence down, and he stared at his wife in a mixture of horror and amazement.
"I WAS on that show, as a guest referee," Wendy snarled. "And I'm SORRY if the PWX management hasn't had a clue about what to do with me! But they will, Terrence, when I walk into Dallas, Texas, and conquer the wrestling world with my own two hands!"
Wendy rolled out of the ring, heading for her locker room, but spun around one last time, shooting a spiteful glare at her husband, still standing in the ring. "And Terrence? If you don't want me in Summer Games, all you have to do is one simple thing."
"Eliminate me before I eliminate you."
JUNE 5, 2010
CITY STREETS- WENDY'S VESPA
INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA
2:32 PM LOCAL TIME
The Vespa whined under her as Wendy accelerated through the turn, and headed up the street. She had honestly no idea where she was going, nor did she care. Neither did she care that she had pushed her tiny little bike to well above the speed limit, and that she was weaving in and out of traffic at a rather dangerous pace.
She had changed her clothes, and left the gym, all without even acknowledging Terrence or Pollaski. She had to get away, and fast.
Why didn't anyone see she was just being who they wanted her to be? Everyone, from Terrence to Pollaski to Mandrake had told her she needed to have more of a killer instinct. Now that she had one, she was a monster? It made no sense to her.
Its not like she WANTED to hurt Elizabeth that way. She was a good kid, a sophmore at Butler who had taken up wrestling for extra money. But wasn't the purpose of training to fine tune your moves for the matches? If Wendy was willing to do that to a mere training partner, what would she do to her real enemies? How long would Cancer Jiles last in the Banshee? Would Bronson Box's perverted, corrupt notion of God save him from the Irish Death?
Like Terrence, Wendy had become amazed by how few of her opponents had acknowledged her. Cancer Jiles had called her a skank, a laughable notion, considering she had worn the reputation of the biggest prude in Alliance history around her neck. And Bronson Box had mentioned her in passing, when he made his Neanderthal-like comments about women in wrestling.
Adrien Cochrane had shown some respect for her, that almost borderlined on flattery. It made her slightly uncomfortable that someone, especially a potential opponent, showed so much appreciation for her. She saw potential in the young man from New Orleans, but he still had a lot of growing up to do.
At the opposite end of the spectrum was Zortalk, who had readily admitted that he cared little for the WhirlyBirdz storied past, the battle against Defiance, or Summer Games. Wendy wondered if William Boscoe Davenport actually cared about anything other than prancing around with underdressed floozies on his arm.
She had also noticed John Kellerman had finally cut a promo. Like pretty much everyone else, he had focused on her gargantuan teammate, although he did suggest a modicum of respect for her and her husband. She respected Kellerman as well, but she had seen nothing that convinced her that Team AW couldn't be allowed to carry the Alliance's standard into the finals.
Seeing a police car ahead, Wendy slowed her bike down to thirty, the speed limit of the area. She had to admire Joe Drago though. The man truly was the embodiment of chivalry, but he had to realize that hitting a woman in a westling match was acceptable. Maybe the ladies on team MVW were different, but Wendy would sooner forgive that than she would someone who intentionally avoided her on the basis of her gender.
And then there was Boston Bancroft. Wendy had been shocked to learn that the defending Champion was an Indianapolis resident, just like her. She wondered if Boston had ever attended one of her 'schlockfests.'
In fact, everything about the man irritated her. This man hadn't been seen in almost a year, and he had the audacity to question HER on her motives for a comeback? The reasons for her deciding to step away five years ago were personal ones that were between her, her husband, and her manager. But it had absolutely nothing to do with her love of the Alliance. For better or for worse, the WWA had made her into who she was.
At least when she had departed, it didn't nearly kill the place. She and Terrence had been burnt out, and their in-ring performance had shown it as they slid further and further down the card. Boston had been the hottest commodity the Alliance had, and he had abandoned it in one of its greatest times of need.
As hypocritical as he was, however, at least Boston was talking. The HYDRA wasn't even doing that. Cobra had slithered out of his hole long enough to call her a dinosaur, but Greer had been silent, and Heidi had turned tail and ran. She had heard that Heidi's pullout was due to "unspecified personal issues," but to her, it meant one thing.
Heidi Christenson, former CAL Champion, was afraid of her.
As she well should be.
At least she could still get Greer, she mused as she changed lanes. She almost couldn't wait until the finals, when sbe could finally have at the thug who had threatened to rape her.
She remembered Elizabeth, lying helplessly beneath her as she made every muscle in the girls body spasm in pain. How nice would it be to do that to Greer? To make the King of Pain scream and beg her for mercy? And it would be so easy from the Banshee to just snap his ne...
"All that anger, I'd say it's either going to make you, or break you" rough voice spoke from beside Wendy on the Vespa.
Wendy, completely caught off guard, nearly lost control of her bike, swerving away from a car in the next lane just in time. Ignoring the blaring of the irate driver's horn, she looked around frantically. She was traveling at thirty miles an hour on a motorbike. Who the HECK could be talking to her?
"Hey now, be careful, wouldn't want you joining me so soon, though it has been kinda lonely and I always did enjoy the pleasure of your company" replied the voice, and out of the corner of Wendy's eye, she should see a ghostly smile along with a pale set of green eyes appear like mist floating along beside her.
Wendy gaped at the apparition, until another blaring horn jarred her senses, and she again swerved to avoid a car.
"Rick?" She exhaled in disbelief.
"Who else would be floating along at 30mph with cars driving through them just ta tell you you look good in that helmet but you need to calm down?" he asked with a chuckle.
"Thanks. I think." Wendy muttered, obviously flabbergasted. "But I can't talk to you and drive. I'm going to get killed."
"Well, then you'd better pull this thing over then," he said "Since I have no intention of shutting up." He said "What the hell is this thing anyway?"
Curiously he floated down and around her and it, passing beneath it, along the sides and around the wheels as if inspecting the bike.
"It's a motorcycle," Wendy snarled as she saw a park up ahead, turning off the road into the parking lot.
Laughter followed her as she parked, in fact it almost seemed to be ringing in her ears as the voice had taken a seat behind her on the back .
"Well now, so this is what the views like from back here." he commented. "
Wendy quickly got off the Vespa and whirled around. "Wh..." she sputtered. "You're dead." She accused, pointing her finger at the apparition still on the bike.
"Well yeah, how else would I appear to you like this?" he said, flashing her a grin. "Come on, dead or not, i'd think you'd at least be glad to seem me?"
"I don't even know if you're REAL!" Wendy retorted. Maybe she really WAS going insane.
"Well look at it this way, if I'm not real, then you've truly gone crazy and you can call south ward to pick you up, by if I am real, well, then don't you think you should at least talk to me?" he asked. "That or you could always go ask Vic to consult one of his books, he could tell you whether I'm real or not, then again, he might decide to banish me and then you'll never get to have that one more talk."
Wendy stared at Rick. It wasn't as if she didn't believe in ghosts. Her mother had appeared to her before- and there was of course that haunting in the computer room...
"Fine, you're real," Wendy admitted, turning and walking into the park. "Now go away."
"Nope, can't do that, sorry." he told her with a shrug, appearing in front of her now. "That would be too easy and I've already done easy once."
"Then go bother Victor. Or Jake," Wendy said, spinning on her heel and walking the other way. "Or Matt McClain for all I care. Just leave ME alone."
The ghost laughed and appeared in front of her again.
"It sounds to me like you have a great deal on your mind, what with the way you were ranting while you were driving." he said, ignoring her request to go away. "It helps you know, to talk to someone who can understand how your feeling. Summer Games was always the event i tried to kill myself training for, no pun, but a great deal of irony intended."
"This isn't about Summer Games," Wendy said shortly, attempting (and failing) to swat away Ulfric's apparition. "I just don't want to talk to YOU."
"Why, cause I stuck a gun in my mouth and pulled the trigger." he said bluntly, no longer appearing amused any longer. "Shit happens Wendy, I did it, there ain't no taking it back, so no matter how little you or anyone else, including myself may be unhappy with the results now, its over and done with and time to move on, mine was just another wasted life in a long string of wasted lives on this little planet."
"And has it occured to you, DERRICK, that had you not gone on your self-indulgent suicidal binge, I wouldn't even BE in this mess right now?" Wendy retorted, narrowing her own emerald eyes at Rick.
He burst into laughter
"You're blaming your blow up at your husband, your loss of self control, your new alliance with Victor and your damn near ending some poor girls career on ME?" he said, laughing harder. "Wendy I hate to break it to you, but the only person in control of your actions is you, you made your choices, now you will live with them the way that I'm going to have to well...errr....remain dead with mine. You blaming me for what you've done since my death is no more rational that Victor blaming you for my suicide."
"Yeah, and if he WASN'T blaming me for your suicide, none of that would have happened. I'd still have my theater, and Terrence and I wouldn't be forced to deal with a psychotic giant bothering us on a weekly basis. So yes, Rick, I AM blaming you!"
"Since when do I control Victor Mandrake's actions?" Rick asked her. "Have you ever thought to ask yourself whether Victor would have taken steps to bring the two of you back whether I'd offed myself or not?" he asked her. "Hell with all I have seen leading into Summer Games, Victor could have found more than a hundred reasons to force his way into your lives, burning down your beloved theater the tip of that rather large iceberg, and as for me, If hadn't done what I'd done, he'd likely have brought me back too, but I tell you one thing if he had, and I had one more chance to win Summer Games, well, I'd have held on to that for everything it was worth and made the absolute best of it, then I would have thanked Victor afterwards and been on my way, or not, maybe I would have stuck around. You'd good on stage Wendy, but your even better in that space between the ring and the lights."
Wendy looked away, and sighed, suddenly ashamed of her outburst. She had always known that Mandrake had ulterior motives for hunting her, not just a misguided quest for revenge. "I'm sorry." She finally said.
"It's okay." he said. "I'm glad you got it off your chest, now maybe you'll let me help you."
"Help me?" Wendy asked, startled. "With what?"
"Keeping your head screwed on straight before you spend the night of Summer Games in a hospital, jail, or morgue." Rick said "You're heading that way, you know, your violent outbursts, your getting out of control, and what would have happened if you had broken your training partner permanently and she sued you, there goes Theresa's college fund. she's a beautiful little girl, I wish my daughter had lived to be able to play with her."
"You were one of the ones who said I always needed a killer instinct!" Wendy retorted. "And now everyone's upset that I finally got one?"
"No." He said, "I'm not upset that you have killer instinct, Victor did an amazing job of bringing it out, I plan to pop by the castle and thank him, and hope I don't get banished, I miss the big bastard. I'm upset that you haven't learned how to focus it. There's a difference. Would you say that I had killer instinct?"
"Of course you did."
"Then why isn't Jake in pieces, why isn't the kid crippled after three years of training with me?" Rick asked her sternly. "It's because I don't need to prove to anyone that I can destroy, I did my proving in a ring in front of the fans, were it mattered, not in a training environment with someone weaker and unskilled and not on the street with someone young and vulnerable and trusting through I had the opportunity to do so many times. Victor has the most deadly outlook on life of anyone I've ever known and he does not abuse those who put their trust in him, if he did, you would be chained to a wall and my ghost would be directing Terry and Dan to the castle."
"So... you're saying I'm worse than Victor?" Wendy asked, the anger rising in her.
"If the heels fit," he said, not pulling any punches. "You've confused killer instinct with cruelty, and in that regards, yeah, you are worse than Victor because you're so far gone you can't even see where you've crossed the line."
The anger dissapated immediately, and Wendy suddenly felt her legs go weak, and she looked around for a place to sit. Finding a park bench, she walked over, collapsing ontop of it. "I don't want to be like that." She whispered quietly.
He settled on the bench beside her.
"Exactly," he said. "You've got what it takes to win Summer Games, now you need to put a leash on it until its time to unleash it. You're at that point in training for this event now where there's nothing that you can do to get any better than you already are, so it's all about letting that anticipation build up, letting the body recover a little from the training you've put it through and in your case, letting the mind start to heal. I want you to take tonight, and I want you to do something you love, it doesn't have to be with Terry it doesn't have to be with your daughter or anyone else, just do it for yourself, so your mind gets back to where it needs to be. "
"But... how could I have let myself get so bad?" Wendy asked miserably.
He chuckled.
"Desire, drive, plain old stubborn pride, competitiveness, it happens to us all at one point or another." Rick told her. "When I was a rookie, I wanted so badly to win this one title, hell I don't even remember what belt it was, but it was up in Canada, and when I was backstage one night, waiting for this match to start, a buddy came by to talk to me and the next thing I remember four guys were pulling me off of him and he was a bloody mess. I didn't mean to hurt my buddy, I just was in that mindset that nothing in the world mattered by my goal and that's where you're at right now."
"So how do I go back?" Wendy said, looking at the ghost of her dead friend. "I don't want to be another Victor Mandrake. I don't want to have such contempt for everyone. But when I see Greer, or Heidi's, or Dane's, or even Mandrake's face, I just feel so much... hatred."
"It's a not a matter of going back." Rick told her, reaching out and placing a ghostly hand over one of hers. "It's a matter of waiting until you see those faces to unleash. I don't want you to loose even a shred of that killer instinct you've gained, what I want you to do now is refine it, hone it into something sharp as a sword and learn how to wield it with just as much percision. right now you're like a bullet some gang member has fired out of a car during a drive by hoping to hit his enemy, but nine times out of ten, striking someone who doesn't deserve to be hit. I want you to be like a sniper, focus Wendy and once you have focus, hell, let's just say, i'm hoping you find that focus in time for the games cause Jake and I will be there watching."
"If I'm a bullet, then I've already hit too many people," she said glumly. "People that I love."
"Now stop that!" Rick told her sternly, "Now isn't the time for guilt, you can make it all up to them after the games, you pull this sorrow filled guilt trip and fuck it, I'll wrestle in your place."
"No, you're right. It isn't." Wendy said, standing up. "But that doesn't mean I can't make amends."
"Wendy!" The ghost said putting himself in front of her again. "wait till after the games. All that can come then. Do what I suggested, take the time for yourself, don't go back right now, Let Terry do his thing, you do yours there's time enough for fixing after the event, and don't give me that line about how you can't put it off till then, you need to learn to, I want your focus on one thing and one thing only, and that's remembering why its important to focus."
"I am focused on that," Wendy said, turning to Rick. "But Terrence is more than my husband here, Rick. He's my team mate, and if I'm going to win Summer Games, I will need my team mates."
"Really?" Rick asked her. "I think if your going to win, the only one you really need is yourself. Teammates are great but teammates get pinned, at the end of the day its the one who doesn't get pinned that's going to win, you can't think about Victor and you can't think about Terry, you need to think about you, and if you don't believe that, go watch, really watch, some tapes of those old Summer Games, I've gone to the finals with my whole team and I've gone with only one teammate beside me. Its all up to you."
"I'll think about it." Wendy promised quietly.
"Please do, I promise that you won't regret it." he said, slipping a ghostly arm around her and giving her what approximated to an otherworldly hug. "besides, you have all the time in the world for regrets, Summer Games, well, that's one moment in a life time and no two Games are the same. Hell, I wish I were competing this year, call Victor will ya and tell him to conjur me up a body"
He was grinning as he said it, kidding but maybe not kidding, not like it would ever have a ghost of a chance of happening anyway.
Wendy nodded absently. "Thank's, Rick. And, I'm sorry, but could you leave me alone? I got a lot of thinking to do."
"Sure thing sweetheart," he said, "and don't worry, you'll see me again soon."
With that he was gone as mysteriously as he arrived.
Wendy sat alone for a long time on the park bench, mulling over the days events, and all that Rick's ghost had told her. Finally, she stood up, and pulled out her cellphone, quickly dialing a number.
"Cassie? You at the house? Good, I need you to do something for me. Don't ask questions, just to it. Okay, I need you to..."
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