Threaded Mode | Linear Mode

Jenny Myst · (07-12-2017)

STORY CONTINUED FROM :
Secret To Victory: A Drive To Reflect: http://xwf99.com/showthread.php?tid=28367

and Secret To Victory 2: Letting Go: http://xwf99.com/showthread.php?tid=28401

"You ain't said a word since we been drivin'--you was on the side of the road all beat to shit. We got a long drive, you wan' tell me wha' happened?"

She continued to look out the window. Her entire body hurt. She could feel the man's remnant pooling at the bottom of her underwear.

The man sighed. He had picked up this girl because she looked like she needed help. She refused medical attention, and she looked too small to cause any real threat to him. But he was perplexed by her. She couldn't be any older than 20. She seemed to have a small bulge in her shirt....could she be pregnant? No, maybe it was just the way she was sitting. He just wished she would tell him something.

"Where are you--we--going?" her voice was weak with a touch of hoarse.

He look straight ahead at the pavement in front of him.

"Colorado Springs" he said.

She put her head back on the soft leather seat behind her. A smile turned into a laugh. It didn't last long though as she quickly stopped, looking back out the window. He could see a tear down her cheek in the window reflection.

"That---that's okay, right miss?"

She didn't care. Right then in that moment, they could be driving right through the gates of hell for all she cared. All she wanted to do was die. What else did she have left?

She didn't say a word, just watched the desert pass her by. The life as she knew it, pass her by. As much as she hated the pain.....in a way it made her stronger. In a way, she liked it.

She loved it.

But she knew she needed to leave it. When you love something, sometimes you need to let it go.

"That's fine."

She could still see their faces. She could still smell their cigarette breath and feel their.....ugh.....things in her. She members the smacks, the punches, the kicks.....she remembered the blood.

Oh yes, the blood.

The trucker saw a wet spot on her crotch. He figured he knew what it was but did not want to comment. She seemed upset enough.

"You wan' a water? I got sum in da cab".

Water would be nice, she could still taste the dirt in her throat. Her vocal chords felt like someone rubbed them against a cheese grater.

But she said nothing.

This man had already treated her better than any of the men in her life ever even came close to, and all he did was offer her some water.

When he asked again what happened and why she was in such a rush to leave town, she finally spoke.

"I just killed my father and a bunch of mob members before being jumped, beaten, raped and left for dead on the side of the road. Wouldn't you want to leave town?"

The man didn't say anything, but he was clearly nervous. He was riding in the cab now with a serial killer. He swore he saw a bullet wound on her shoulder facing the window.

The trucker decided that digression is the better part of valor and not to ask questions. He just looked straight ahead.

"So, how about that water?"

XOXOXOXOXOXO

When she woke up--she must have dozed off--she felt the truck rolling to a stop. She didn't recognize the landscape. Rubbing her eyes, her mascara was coming off onto her hands, she tried to speak. Who knows how long she had been out for, but her cotton mouth was no joke. It felt like a tennis ball was sitting in her throat.

"Where----whr---where are we?" She choked out. The trucker took a drag of his cigarette before shifting the truck to a stop.

"We in Utah sugar. Heading to Colorado. The swinging down to Albuquerque before going to St. Louis."

She was never going to get home. A sense of panic came over her.

"You're going back to Nevada, though, right?"

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

For some reason, she was beginning to freak out. She didn't know why. She was free, finally, but still felt so empty.

"Eventually, on the way back to San Diego.....but didncha say you wan'ed to leave der?"

Ugh, his redneck, uneducated English was finally beginning to annoy her.

All she knew was that the chains had been loosened, but she didn't feel they were totally off. There was still something bugging her.

They were at a truck stop somewhere in bumfuck, Utah.

"I'm goin' in ta get a sammich and a coke. You wan' somethin?"

The sense of dread that she couldn't explain wouldn't let her utter more than two words.

"Surprise me."

Which was a shock to her, because she hated surprises. The truck door closed and she laid her head back on the leather seat.

She felt like she had unfinished business. She just couldn't put a finger on what it was.

Jenny sat by the pool at Universal Studios, sipping a Mai-Tai with a towel under her. Her bikini looked damped, she had obviously just gotten out of the pool.

SI Swimsuits Plus Sized Post Girl Said:I didn't even really know who you were until you came and fucked around in my match with Jody

"Did someone drop this girl on her head? I mean, shit she must have borrowed one of Madison's bondage outfits and someone forgot to unzip the mask. I have been one of the most recognizable names on this roster for damn year a full year. The chaos I have caused both inside the ring and outside it has made me a house hold name and a hot commodity. It was YOU, Ezariaha, who showed up out of nowhere by escaping from Mezian's basement and decided to bring your stretch marked ass to the XWF. Check your facts before you talk, tubby.

Jenny Craig's Number One Sales Agent Said:"No one wants to fight you because of Chris"

Umm......no. They want to fight me BECAUSE of Chris, you crusty twat. Why is it acceptable for you to be an idiot but not for me to point it out? Seriously, Ezzy, you two legged stool sample, I was pro life before I met you. They want to fight me and I have been in matches against competition that you couldn't fathom BECAUSE of my association with Chris. This "man child" of mine happens to be a formal Universal Champion and Trios Tag Champion. Your little boytoy has a streak through his hair, that is about his only accomplishment. Don't run your mouth when your not on a level to do so. You want to find me? You want to hurt me? Good. I'm not a hard bitch to find."

She smiles for the camera, taking another sip.

"Ezariaha, haven't you had enough? Last time I saw you, you were being wheeled out of Independence, Missouri, on a gurney with a breathing mask. You really want more of this? You saw what I did to Maddy soon after, no? Your ambition outweighs your relevant skills, Ezzy, and it is going to get you hurt. Again. You see, Ezariaha, its admirable that you want another piece I just think you're too stupid to know exactly what you are stepping into the ring with. Don't let my small stature fool you. I stepped into the ring and I slapped Brock Lesnar in the face, twice. That was after a war with Madison Dyson on Warfare. I am not afraid of a mental 12 year old with the fupa of a 40 year old. You may outweigh me by quite a bit, but I am no doubt the toughest bitch in this business. Size doesn't matter--at least in this scenatio. I think I have proved that. And my mic skills? On point. I was hoping for a battle of wits but you appear to be unarmed."

She laughs and flips her hair back.

"Sometimes, sure, I bite off more than I can chew. I’m blonde, what’s your excuse? Your just dumb, with no in ring ability, and a boyfriend, partner, escort, craigslist hookup, whatever Mezian is, that sits comfortably on the spectrum. You hover somewhere close by, and this week I am going to finish the job. You will be your daily 15,000 calories through a straw and having Mezian change your diapers after I cave in the back of your head this week.

It deserves the respect that every wrestler who has ever wrestled through the pain, who has shot up with steroids and gotten hooked on drugs just so they could go perform one more time has given it. For every fan that has spent their last dollar buying a ticket to a wrestling event, for every wife and girlfriend who has cried themselves to sleep because they know they will never be as important to their man as the wrestling business. For every child that grown up without a father...THAT is why I'm going to win.

"Speaking of washed up nobodies, did anyone see that first promo by the Wren Silverphoenix twat? I mean, for real, Wren, did you eat paint chips when you were a kid? I know there was nothing else to do during World War Two but goddamn girl. Enough is enough, hang it up already. Nobody cares about the toll this business has put on your body, and all your accomplishments in the ring. Those accomplishments aren't here, the number one wrestling promotion on the planet. A promotion that currently has a women's division ruled by yours truly. There isn't an active female wrestler on this roster that can beat me clean, and I proved that to Madison on Wednesday. And I am a different bitch than I was just a month ago. If Roxy decides to get out from under Vinnie's desk, I'd beat her too.

So, was that supposed to be a shot at me, Wren? Doing a promo from a strip club, knowing that is how I made my living before coming here? Was that a subtle way of putting me down or degrading me? Try again, because I am proud of it. There is a difference why girls like me were paid to take clothes off and girls like you went to watch--hell they probably paid you to go in there so the girls could look prettier by comparison. You're the type of chick men pay to keep her clothes on, if you know what I mean. You're weirdly proportioned body is more of a turnoff than a power outage.

The XWF's Newest Waste of Time Said:I did it...I DO it because I'm a professional wrestler and that's what wrestlers do. We kill ourselves to be the best, we sacrifice everything to be the one that's left standing at the end of the fight. Hell, we do it because we can't do anything else.

Wren....maybe YOU can't do anything else. I happen to be a queen of the camera. Kicking ass in that ring is only ONE of the things I do. You have limited yourself with that one statement and validating everything I have said and am going to say about you. You can't do anything else because you look like someone backed a truck over your face from the forehead down and your body looks more like an aging secretary who played intramural basketball and tells people she started Varsity. You haven't done anything else because, like you said, you can't. If I were fired from here tomorrow I could get a job in the snap of a finger doing any else I chose to do. That is what perfection is, Wren. If you are fired, or quit after I beat your ass Saturday, you will stumble into another wrestling promotion and hope for a better start. That is what you are, that is all you will ever be. Keep puffing those bogies, Wren. The only thing uglier than your face has to be your lungs. I am too quick for you, too smart for you and in the wise words of Thaddeus Duke......Better....Than.....You.

There have been rumors swirling regarding a women's title belt coming into play. You can pencil me in for that right now. Wren, it doesn't matter what you have done elsewhere, if you are able to walk after Saturday Night, you will be walking out of that ring 0-1 and with your tail between your legs. I'm pretty sure you actually have a tail, too, I mean, look at you......what are you? As an outsider, what do you think of the human race? You're going to have a pretty shitty view of us after Saturday when you're cleaning your teeth of the canvas and you see the hottest bitch in the business standing over you with her arms up........

Pure.....

Perfection.

6-4-0

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Unfinished Business: Part 1
Author	Message