-Continued from Forever Young-

The Finale:

D'Ville watched Dolly turn away from him curtly.

His features stretched as a predatory grin set into them. Well then, have a nice trip.

Dolly now stood facing the door. Somehow the hallway leading up to it had seemed to grow longer and more imposing. She choked down a deep swallow, turning back to D'Ville. But he was already gone. Squaring her shoulders resolutely as she made peace with her choice, she moved towards the door. As she approached, she could see a fiery rim from beneath it, beckoning her into the expanse beyond.

I’m ready. She announced simply.

The door doesn’t simply open this time, rather it bursts away entirely from its hinges. The light beyond its frame rages even brighter than before, pulling her back into it’s suffocating surroundings. The cracking whips of ember roasting from the sun’s surface lies just ahead, as Dolly is once again planted on the small meteorite facing her destiny.

Soldier’s hand has already masked her mouth. She has time for pause. Time for reflection, but not much time is needed anymore. She’s surefire and prepared to do what she believes will forever mend the mistake that was Dolly Waters.

”You better not bitch out this time!”

Dolly closes her eyes and for a moment is able to relive every pertinent moment of the life that would henceforth develop no further.

She remembers the Christmas Past and the innocence of who she was; a person not concerned with dreams of the future, but rather the comfort and happiness of those she loved.

She remembers tagging along with her father to the XWF, and more than being abandoned in those unforgiving backstage hallways, she remembers her life beginning in those unforgiving backstage hallways.

She remembered the faces, friend or foe, that helped her write her way into a new existence: Morbid, D’Ville, Vinney, Theo, Madison, Duke, Luca, Caedus, Chaos, Trax, Bourbon, Soldier, Gilly, Mav, Scully, McBride, Graves and Caydren.

It was all there for her, and it always will be…

Dolly tears Soldier’s hand away from her mouth, her eyes remaining closed as she opens her arms and begins to fall forward. She can feel her hair blowing back and her body being lifted into the small amount of empty galaxy that separates her from the dancing flames of the sun’s surface. This was it, the end of the beginning. Dolly Waters would become immortal.

But her body jerks, and whiplashes back. There’s a grip around her bicep. Dolly turns around to see a dark cloaked figure reaching out of the door behind her and pulling her back from the sun.

The momentum carries Dolly back through the threshold, and she finds herself plunging into the robed figure, who encircles his arms around her and guides her in. Dolly pants in fear, starting to fight back against this interloper, but her fury is quieted when he pulls back his hood revealing…

.....Corey?

Corey Smith takes a step back from her, disengaging. He sneaks a quick look at the hellish orb past the threshold before refocusing on Dolly.

What are you doing?

I’m making it better. I won’t age ever again. I won’t grow into what I’m destined to become. A more miserable joke than I already am.”

Both of them are cast in a bronze glow from the nearby star, adding a further layer of the surreal to this moment. The sun glints out of the corner of Corey’s eyes, making his pupils seem fiery, marrying his words to that endless fire.

Is that really what you want? To remain static and unchanging for the rest of your life? Being nothing but a constant rememory?

Corey looked into Dolly’s eyes plaintively. You’ve never seen sad fucks like that? People who only subsist on the dust of what came before? Breathing in their past like a foul air, like a bitter cloud that keeps them stuck and miserable? Oh, but it’s a comfortable misery, isn’t it? It’s the Devil you know.

He sighs, relenting a bit. Is that truly what you want?!

I’m just tired of being such a let down…

I used to be scared of the future too. Scared of what I would be. Would I be The Engineer for the rest of my life Or hell….would I be stuck fighting Lux’s war ‘till I’m dead and gone? Or….

He presses his lips together, this one especially hurts.

Would I keep on being some teenage waster junkie? Damn it, Dolly I get it.

In that moment she knew that he was sincere, but still she was determined to be right,

But were you ever offered something like this, Corey? Did you ever have the chance to halt your slide into the inevitabilities that you had no hand in coursing out?

There’s a tinge of frustration there, but he smooths it out before speaking. I don’t believe in inevitabilities. Dolly, the only constants in life are the ones that you allow. What we are born of, the sum total of our past mistakes, our past sins, does not need to be who we are now.

Dolly looks down at her feet,

I’m just so fucking tired though, Corey.

He nods.

I know. But maybe I can show you something that will convince you?

He holds out his hand. Dolly looks at it first, and then tentatively slides her hand into his. Their fingers interlace, and no sooner does that happen, than do they both suddenly spring forward as if being pushed along in a wind tunnel. The force exerted on them is so strong that Dolly can only muster a single choked cry of surprise before her words are forced back down her throat. Turning her head slightly to the right, and even that is a tremendous accomplishment given the pressure bearing down on her, she sees white lines peeling past her field of vision. It was reminiscent of when you were a child and looking out the window of a moving car. Watching the lane markers in the road bend and weave ever so gently, before sputtering out and then starting again. Or the gentle looping of power lines along a country thoroughfare, performing their sensuous rhythmic dance.

And then she came to understand what she was actually seeing. Stars. Racing past them preturnaturally fast, so fast they were like rods of pure energy stretched into nigh oblivion. Dolly gasped again, this time at the sheer beauty of it all. She felt Corey’s hand clamp down on hers harder, reminding her he was still with her and imparting her with some confidence.



The whirling majesty of the voyage halts as the two are vaulted through a wormhole and come crashing onto a shiny concrete floor. Before she can gather herself, Corey is already helping Dolly to her feet. They stand up under the glow of a strip of fluorescent lights sitting between a double series of white paneling.

I’m sorry, probably should have warned you about the landing.

His words barely register though, and for a moment she’s blinded by the deep milky artificial lighting. The smell hits first, antiseptic and cold. It’s an odor that most learn to fear, associating it with injury and death. Looking up confirms her suspicions. They’re in a hospital.

Why are we here? She looks around, the reality that there is something quite different about this hospital takes hold. Everything is so sleek and streamlined. Human like mechanical effigy’s work side by side with flesh and blood staff. Just through the window into the nearest room a circular disc on the floor plays out some kind of three dimensional melodrama for the old woman resting within. ...is this…..?

It’s the year 2084. Your future. And theirs.

There’s something unsettling about the way he emphasizes that final word. Dolly looks at his face, but it has suddenly gone sad and inscrutible. He raises an arm to point down the hall, silently.

I...I don’t get it. What….?

But Corey’s not answering. He simply continues to stand and point as staff, seemingly ignorant of his presence, step around him as though he were inanimate but familiar. She looks back at the stretch of hallway before her, and her guts start roiling for reasons she can’t ascertain. Putting one foot in front of the other, she starts to progress. On either side of her, the rooms of the sick or dying hem her in. And for a brief moment, she feels validated by her initial choice. This doesn’t have to be me.

But then, the gnot in her belly turns Gordian as she turns her head to the left after a few more paces. Her mind reels for the effort of trying to take this in.

No…

A futile prayer lost to the sanitized air. On weak knees, she approaches the door and peers in. She knows them. All of them. But doesn’t at the same time. Not like this. A breath tickling her shoulder advises her that Corey has returned.

You recognize them, no?

Yes. A penitent wavering whisper.

Paul Heyman seems to be ensconced in some kind of hovering half egg shaped device. The interior is well cushioned, but the shell is gun metal gray and bears some black lettering along the rim, like a code. She can’t tell how it’s remaining aloft, but it permits a consistent low hum as it does. Heyman himself looks disastrous. His rotund form practically spilling out of the one piece silvery suit he’s wearing. He looks to be pushing 400 pounds. His aged face is blotchy and sick looking. The remaining strands of his hair are long gone, and his left eye is rheumy.

Is he immortal too?

Heyman? No, unfortunately.

Dolly’s eyes track closer to the bed. There are two more old men. Not as old as Heyman, but old enough to be well weathered and beaten back by the storm of life. One man is seated in a high backed chair pulled up next to the bed. His veiny varicose hand is holding the hand of the man in the bed. The hand belonging to the man in the bed is as withered and skeletal as the rest of him. Blue veins protrude from white clammy skin like eerie roadmaps. The man in the bed’s eyes are open, but the irises seem to be lulling about in his sockets like small boats tossed in a hurricane. Any true consciousness this man has is fleeting at best.

Dolly’s chest burns, and the burn rises until it pours out her throat as a choked, desperate sob. Oh my God…. She bends over at the waist, feeling like she’s going to vomit. Corey puts his hand on her back gently.

The Corey in the other room, the older Corey, picks up a newspaper and starts to read to the man in the bed: Thaddeus Duke. He’s reading him the sports page, summarizing how all of Thad’s favorite teams are doing with a contagious aplomb that just breaks Dolly’s heart even more. Finally, she pulls herself erect, having fought down the rising sick. But now the scene is enveloped in her tears.

What’s wrong with Thad? Her tone is pleading.

He got old. Corey says simply. And he got sad.

Sad?, she wondered, but why?. Thaddeus Duke had been on a roll, positioning himself towards crowning his greatest achievement and surefiredly becoming the new face of the XWF. All of his dreams were coming true, so why this? Why was he wasting away so unceremoniously?

Because Thad gave up everything, Dolly.

Dolly turns slowly to face Corey, her blistering eyes pleading for a moment of clarity, knowing full well that Corey was answering even her thoughts now,

He gave everything up to go look for you.
That climatic urge to vomit arises again as Dolly gags on the drying saliva in the back of her throat. Her face twisting between portraits of anger, sadness and confusion while Corey continues to explain:

Thaddeus goes on to win the Universal Title at High Stakes, he had his moment in the sun, but something was still missing. Deep inside he wrestled with a past that he could never quite let go of, a wrong he felt personally responsible to try and rectify.

What was it?

She begged,

He vacated the championship, left the XWF forever and spent all of his fortune looking for you, Dolly...

Her brow sank and her face etched with tragedy with each of Corey’s words ringing harder than the one before it,

Much like the future you abandoned in Christmas Past, not out of selfishness, but out of the love for your father and wanting to bring him comfort; Thaddeus gave up something he truly wanted to try and help a person who feared change and thus never did.

But where was I?

She screamed out,

Why didn’t I stop him!? That’s not what I wanted! Why didn’t I tell him I was okay!?”

Corey tilts his head to look past Dolly’s shoulder and simply points behind her. Dolly turns around quickly to see herself in a black hood, standing back against the wall on the other side of the hallway. The Dolly of the future stares through the glass and into Thaddeus’ room without emotion, her once vibrant green eyes having turned pale and white just like her skin.

There’s a certain shame in immortality, and an inability to reckon with the past. Over and over now you’ve watched those you care for burn up and crumble away. But there was none more difficult for you to watch then this one, and you know the worst part about it? As bad as you want to, as badly as you know that you NEED to, you can barely even remember Thad. Eventually your memories, and the memories of you just sort of go away, and then it’s just Dolly Waters, but pretty soon you won’t even remember that.

Suddenly the heart defibrillator in Thad’s room begins to speed up, it’s beeping becoming ravagingly loud and pouring into the hallway as his decaying frame begins to jerk wildly in his bed.

Dolly collapses to her knees and turns to Corey, bargaining with him to make this stop,

I was wrong, Corey! I DO want to change! I can’t fix the mistakes of my past if I’m always the same person who made those mistakes!

Sobbing and clutching his leg she pounds her fist into his thigh a fountain of tears spraying from her eyes as the Dolly from the future slowly approaches the room from behind them,

This can’t be how I say goodbye to Thad! This can’t be how I say goodbye to anyone! When I come to an end I want to be whoever I am that day, not a hollow relic. I swear I will change! I swear I will change! Just give me another chance!

Corey, smiles and closes his eyes. Everything goes dark.






At Corey’s Commune, Smith and Waters are sitting at a table enjoying some Pad Thai. The conversation has gone kind of quiet for a while. Corey attempts to break the ice again,

So what were those visions you were talking about? They sounded oddly Dickenis-ish. Gay ghosts or something?

I WANT TO DO IT!, she proclaims, slamming her chopsticks to the table.

Corey is startled by the sudden burst and shakes his head back with a series of blinks,

Doooo??? What exactly?

I want to stay here at the commune and work. I think helping people could be a great change for me after I retire. That is, if the offer still stands.

Corey smiles,

Of course it does, partner.

-end-

Promo(s):

What else is left to be said about James Raven and Centurion? Hmmmm? Because honestly, I think it’s what’s gone UNSAID that is most salient here. I mean, here we have two guys who say the XWF is practically encoded in their goddamn GENES. So intrinsic is this place to who and what they are. It’s the very foundations of the empires they’ve built.

In fact, it’s so central to who and what they are that they’re…..both holding championships in other promotions and can barely spare a word for this match? Corey makes a perplexed face. And, at least in Raven’s case, he seems to be too busy doing God knows what, God knows where to even have one SINGLE thing to say about this match. Or at least, not yet. Corey taps at his watch. Not quite the eleventh hour. But you know what, even that’s SHIT. You cobbling together some half assed response like a kid writing his essay on the way to school. That’s what we’re gonna get. At best.

So I gotta ask the question, how can you two tear Dolly Waters to pieces for the grave sin of “flaking out on the XWF” when you both have taken a gander and checked out the grass on the other side? I mean, at one point it seemed like James Raven was at least going to stick around and PRETEND to play an administrative role in the XWF, but that petered out, didn’t it? Or maybe that was just for the sole purpose of honoring HIS generation of XWF stars, and getting HIS name up on the marquee for a super show. Man, that’s just so on brand.

And in the end, we’re all grown adults here. Mostly. And there’s really nothing wrong with making the choice to leave the XWF, whether it be to sort out some personal shit or win less prestigious titles in promotions with half the viewership and buyrates. A smug little shit eating smirk appears. But the point here gentlemen….is CHOICE. The ability to choose your destiny, hell, to choose what you WANT on the most basic level! A choice that James Raven and Centurion have made. A choice that Dolly Waters also made.

Oh, but when Dolly makes it….it’s BAD. BAD, BAD VERY BAD! Because two natty old hypocrites thought she was pretty neat, and maybe said so once or thrice backstage. So the prospect of her going away before she could meet the benchmark THEY set for her is just UNTHINKABLE! And must be DEALT WITH. Cruelly! Harshly! And with as little insight into their own self-absorbtion and hypocrisy as possible.

You. Fuckin’. Douchebags.

Rollin’ up on in here like daddy kicking down the door, looped belt in hand, semi-hard erection hiding behind the zipper, and just chompin’ at the bit to impose your will on Dolly Waters for making a choice. A choice that, in the end, hurt NO ONE. Well, no one but HER perhaps.

How fucking dare she?

Corey slaps his hands together, and then throws them out to his sides grandiously.

I think I’ve made my point. Buuuuut, I’m gonna take it a step further. Because, I imagine, whether you admit it or not, I’ve struck some chords here. I mean, shit, let’s face it….I’m just fucking right. I have exposed both your bear asses to the world and called those FACE-saving credentials into serious question. So, I’m going to make a choice. See how grown ups can do that? Uh huh.

Well, my choice is this: That if either of you have a big enough problem with me pointing out your flagrant Disney villain level narcissism, step in the ring with me. One on one. Oh, and let’s make it REALLY fun. Maybe you could convince your respective promotions to put your outsider titles on the line at an XWF event! He sighs lightly. A man can dream. He starts. But before I get accused of pulling a Raven and settling that spotlight solely on this impeccable skin tone and untouchable coif….this is Dolly Water’s show. This is Dolly Water’s CAREER. And she WILL end things on her own terms. And anyone who tries to fuck with that is going to end up unfit to be the smiling mascot face of UGWC.

You feel me?

Corey gestures to Dolly, and bows out stage right.

Dolly Waters, with black garments covering her neck-to-toe and sporting a glowing smile enters stage left, waving to the camera as she takes center.

What REALLY is there left to say about Centurion and James Raven, I mean seriously? I’d be remiss not to point out that my Wonder Twin, Corey Smith, has already torn the two of you limb from limb and we haven’t even fought yet…

But if you don’t mind, I’d like to take one last stab at this.

She pauses for a moment, and after giving one last coy smile and blush she starts to pull off the black wool gloves from her hands, tossing them to the ground…

Ah! That’s better! My hands were getting all sweaty.

Okay, so look, Centurion is a whining prick.

And a coward.

Do you like ad hominem?

I fucking LOVE ad hominem.

Centurion is also, all around, not as good of a dude as he lets on. The worst part about pointing this out though is that I don’t think I can bring it to your attention any clearer than Corey did. But allow me to pick from my teeth any of The Prophecy's tea leaves he may have missed.

When you’ve been around, and have done this wrestling thing for even as short of an amount of time as I have, the things people say and how they react to certain situations become damn near second nature and REALLY fucking easy to predict.

Hell, I told y’all cold-turkey about the stench of pretend victimhood we were all going to have pinch our noses at, and it’s exactly what Centurion brought to the table two days later.

Centurion, you were BIG mad at Dolly Waters huh? Big mad that I didn’t think to come slobbering at the feet of one of the dozens of random asses who took a some ratings-grabbing moral stance against any of the 7,000 kidnapping or rape attempts I had to unfortunately experience during my time in the XWF.

Just for shits and giggles, would you like to know who one of my biggest defenders was the first time Michael Graves kidnapped me?

Peter Gilmour.

Dolly stops, flat faced and blinking as we hear crickets chirping in the background.

BIG MAD!

See you two do have something in common, only Peter Gilmour didn’t rage out in some weird masochistic promo and threaten to “punish” me for not sucking his dick for his efforts.

Imagine that! For as shitty of a human being as Peter Gilmour is, in this regard which happens to be your entire argument against me, Centurion is even shittier than Gilly.

It has been said that the ironies of life occur most pungently to those who don’t recognize them. Now isn’t THAT clever?

You know what isn’t clever? You. Or anything about you. Seriously imagine the thick-headed gumption one must posses to think that a kidnapping and/or possible rape victim owes thier unsolicited savior some frothy explanation. Are you that fucking stupid? ESPECIALLY given everyone’s endearment to the PC culture these days. God forbid that your 200 Twitter followers might find out about this. Shit, hashtag CANCELCENTURION could be trending in a matter of YEARS!

BUT.

I.

DIE.

GRESS.

Let’s be honest for a second. This match really means not a whole lot to you, right? Strike one. Your love for the industry is selective.


Except to teach Dolly Waters a lesson? Strike two. You’re a fucking weirdo.

Except that you, yourself, the fucking patron saint of moral gatekeeping and the absolute standard barer of legacies defined ADMITTED that you always wanted a match with me. STIR-RIKE THREE! He’s gone full-on Jussie Smollett, folks!

Centurion, you know, and I know that I’m not just mentioning some one-off promo when the timing was right, am I?

But don’t feel bad, okay? It isn’t just you that couldn’t keep my name out of your mouth in my absence, hun.

It happens all the time, be it running joke, be it some odd-placed nostalgia for rape fantasy, they remember me, they talk about me.

Even the person you’ve adorned by naming him the GOAT in your absolute wisdom, your partner who appears to be leaving you high and dry- Don’t think for a second that he hasn’t done it as well.

Do you know why? It’s okay to say it, fuck, drink it in a little… it’s going to be fun:

It’s because I’m Dolly fucking Waters. And you my friend? You find yourself in the legit, unique position of being opposite of me in what will absolutely be my last ever wrestling match.

You. Are. Fucked.

Tell me you haven’t studied my tape. I know you have. You’ve already said it. That running knee I like to use? It’s been known to catch pretty little faces like yours off guard, time and time again. And i’ll tell you what, I’ll spare you the humility and share some of my own:

Centurion? It’ll be my absolute honor to send it smashing into your thick ass jawline in my curtain call.

Dolly reaches down and picks the gloves back up and sliding them back on her hands,

In all seriousness, please ignore my, how do I say… typical? behavior just then. This isn’t a typical time, or a typical situation. But I thought it’d be appropriate to at least attempt to dish it out one last time.

It truly is an honor to go out this way, alongside Corey, against two truly great competitors such as yourselves. You can call it what you want, but years after I’m gone I’ll always remember it as a main-event worthy match in the middle of a packed card. Or it coulda-woulda been had the GOAT not pulled something like Centurion was all pissed off at me for doing. Eh fuck it.

Tune into Warfare to see a couple of dusty ol’ legends get wrekt by Waters and Smith.

Happy Holidays. Love y’all.

4x XTreme Champion    (1x as Misty Waters)
3x Television Champion
3x Tag Team Champion (w/ Vita Valenteen, w/ Charlie Nickles, w/ Madison Dyson)
2x Hart Champion

4x Star Of The Month
August '24(As Misty Waters), August ‘21, May ‘17, October ‘16

3x RP Of The Month
What light through sonder... my perception breaks.
Tranquility: For Old Times Sake
Manifest Victory