“Betsy...”

“Not again.” Groaning, Betsy Granger rolls over in bed and crashes right over the side onto... Dirt?

Emerald eyes fly open as several things make her fully awake and alert; looking around, she realizes that the bed she had just been sleeping in with James is gone. Underneath her was cold, wet dirt soaking through the thin cotton material of her pajama shirt and pants. Jumping to her feet, she sinks her toes into the mud and takes in her surroundings: A road with several forks, boasting a tall, wooden pole placed in the center; wooden slats with sharpened tips were tacked on, all pointing towards a different path. The Impossible Traveler stood before this sign considering what it meant as she brushed off clumps of dirt from her clothing and shook more from her messy hair. Her eyes never leave the slats as they memorize the odd arrangement of words.

Midnight

Devils Run

Olympus

Star-Crossed

Loose End

“Betsy, over here... Here, over here!”

Her hands clamp themselves down uselessly over her ears out of habit. “No! But... Wha...” Her voice trails off as she realizes that the voices weren’t coming from her within her mind this time. Shivering from the cold air, she begins a sweep of the area, stopping in front of each path to study the trail ahead. Beginning from the East, she turns towards the sign pointing towards Loose End. The stone path seems normal enough, but the trail just seems to lead on to a vast, empty horizon. Realizing quickly that every one of the paths looks like that prompts her to stand before the sign again, utterly perplexed now. Disembodied voices floating through the breeze continue calling to her; each fork in the road seemed to demand her full attention. Taking a deep breath to calm her racing nerves, she shuts her eyes and holds out her arm. Spinning in a circle several times, she comes to a stop and opens her eyes; checking over her shoulder, she finds herself facing Loose End.

“Have a look inside, Betsy!”

Betsy stands before the invisible entrance to the unknown world beyond. She’d almost walked right through without realizing it was there until the sun had hit the barrier just right; The glint had momentarily blinded her, giving away the fact that something was standing between her and a new world. The familiar eager anticipation set her heart thumping wildly; reaching out a hand, she gingerly touches the barrier. It quivers under her fingers, revealing itself in full now. It shimmers opalescent, showing the shadowy figure of a town within.

A grin tugs at her lips as she braces herself and walks through. Chills run through her as she crosses between; a moment later, the blazing hot sun is hitting her face. Holding a hand over her eyes, she opens them slowly and has a look around. Save for the little, 1800s mid-western town up ahead, everything was sand and desert as far as the eye could see. Looking down, she’s shocked to see that she’s wearing different clothing than before, she looks down and realizes she’s wearing a light, button-down shirt and leather vest, and a red bandana was tied about her neck. Her legs are covered by soft, deerskin britches and makeshift leather chaps and a gun belt around her waist with holsters on both sides. A homemade thigh holster conceals the smaller pistol for emergencies, and she can feel the metal of a knife sheath pressing against her calf. The spurs on the back of her black boots jangle cheerfully when she moved.

Pulling one of the guns out, she’s shocked once again to discover that it’s real. Careful not to flip the safety, she slips it back into the holster and licks her lips. They’ve gone dry quickly due to the desert heat; a drink was suddenly the only thing in the world she wanted. She sets off to the town, looking for any other signs of life along the way. Only a feeble wisp of dust blows in the hot breeze; sweating under her hat, she removes it from her head and stares at it. She hadn’t been wearing a hat until just a moment ago when she had found herself wishing for something to shield her eyes. The wide black brim curved out far enough for her to see ahead without obstructing any of her views. Using the bandana to wipe a layer of sweat from her face, she plops the hat back on her head and quickens her pace towards the two. As she gets closer, she begins to see townsfolk milling about; many cowboys in different styles of the same outfit, whores in tight bodices and wide, puffy feather tails. The town called Serenity looked like something out of a John Wayne film, Betsy thought with amusement. It also had the air of one, the irony causing Betsy to chuckle out loud.

As she looks around, The Impossible Traveler is unnerved to realize many of the faces are familiar ones: Members of the XWF rosters. Instant panic washes over her as she’s met by Osira Themis, heading up a line of female roster members to the whorehouse. Paralyzed, she watches them as they all walk right on by without so much as looking her way; Osira turns her piercing eyes to Betsy and they stare at one another for a moment. She sighs and turns around to meet the eyes of Noah Jackson, who was currently being held in place by a heavily splintered pillory stock set up by the town gallows. Forgetting her thirst, she rushes over to stand before him and shakes her head at the piteous sight. He’d clearly been there for at least two days; his pants and the area around him are littered with rotten vegetables and fruits as well as human excrement. He’s covered in filth from top to bottom and the stench coming from him made her gag involuntarily.

Noah himself seemed to be in and out of lucidity; he finally looks up at her and blinks before familiarity lights up his eyes slightly. He licks his dry lips and points a weak finger towards a nearby water trough. Needing no more direction, Betsy hurries over and pauses, trying to figure out what to carry the water in. Looking around, she finally spots an empty, discarded beer mug sitting outside the general store. Snatching it up and filling it, she hurries it back over to Noah and holds it up to his lips. Once the cup is empty, his eyes shut and Betsy fears he may have fallen asleep. Sighing, she turns to leave until his voice floats up to her feebly.

“Oi, good to see you Bets.”

“Noah... How did you get here...? How long have you been here?”

Noah’s face scrunches in confusion as he considers these questions. Peering upward, his face changes to anger. "Oi, there's the fuckin' cunt now!"

Whirling around, Betsy follows Noah's gaze and stares straight into the face of Kieran Overton. He’s dressed all in black with a look of determination on his face. Standing up straight, she points to Noah. “Free him... It’s no longer his fight.”

Overton doesn’t answer; Instead, his hands slide down to his sides and rest on the butts of his twin pistols. Knowing where this is going, Betsy steps off the steps of the stocks and into the road; now she and Overton stare down at one another intensely. Townsfolk gather in groups on the porches of various shops and businesses. Slowly, Betsy lifts her hands in the air in supplication and attempts to reason with the man before her. It strikes her as odd that like the other townsfolk, Kieran doesn’t seem to recognize her, but Noah knew her instantly. She makes a mental bullet point for that and begins to speak in what she hopes is a soothing tone of voice.

“Nobody needs to get hurt here, partner. All I want is to free my friend and find our way home...”

She never gets the chance to finish; Quick as lightning, Overton draws. Unknown instincts kick in and Betsy draws her own pistol and shoots. Her aim is deadly accurate; a long moment lapses after the shots are fired before blood begins to trickle from the hole between Overton’s eyes. His lifeless body slumps to the ground and fades away, leaving no evidence that he’d been there at all. A startled gasp escapes her as she comprehends what she just witnessed; Now she cries out when she turns to see Noah has disappeared too. Turning back towards the town, the bystanders were now coming towards her as a mob. Emerald’s eyes widen as she backs away, dropping the pistol in her hand; turning around, she begins to race towards the barrier, aware that the mob had started running as well. Leaning forward, she increases her momentum, desperate to escape...

___

“I thought we could talk about the beauty of second chances for a moment, Osira, because you, like a few others, are going to need one. Look at the competition you had in the first two rounds: You’ve had it easy up to now. It must have been nice to breeze your way to the Elite Eight, but your free ride through March Madness stops here.

Osira is my immediate focus, I feel I really should address everyone accordingly and so I shall. After all, one never knows who will meet who in the finals. I just know that once I kick down this pillar of the Themis Palestra, my focus must shift. I know it’s cocky to say outright that I’m punting Osira into the Second Chance Battle Royal, but I am. The Themis sisters may be considered goddesses among women and infamous through the industry, but what I’ve achieved in so short a time is more impressive than that. Shawn can take credit for as much of it as he likes, it’s something he does whenever he can. But we’ll circle back to that later; This is about Osira for now. You’re a threat and a fierce warrior, but I’ve come too far now. ‘If’ is no longer an option looking forward. Having to go through you, in particular, is a double-edged sword I was hoping to avoid: I love the level of competition you offer and I look forward to adding another member of BoB to my defeated list. Ask your new stable buddy Miss Fury what it’s like to be on there, she can tell you firsthand; don’t worry, though, you’ll be in excellent company. If you want a quick run-down of who I’ve gone through since I started around these parts, ask your sister.

This brings me to the other edge of that sword: Atara. My favorite Themis. I know she understands that this is all about the competition, but I can’t help but harken back to when Shawn spoke his mind about me in GCWA... It was really no different than what he said here, honestly. Same stuff, different match. Anyhoo, the point I was getting to was that she took exception to some of what was said. I appreciated the hell out of her for that, even if I didn’t feel it necessary. I would never ask Shawn to apologize for anything he ever said; Just as he would never expect one from me. Atty may not like it, but Osira is another block in the path that I have to get around... And I will. Look, the truth is, I myself have no qualms with the chick. I think she can be a bit over the top and has poor taste in her social circle, but there are many out there who would say that’s a trait the Themis Siblings share. Hell, I was recently commended by someone in Project Honor for being with James over Shawn... Something I shouldn’t have laughed at, but I did. I think that was more the sisterly affection I have for Shawn coming out than any actual agreement with the statement in general. Atara and Shawn are two people I would take bullets for and they absolutely belong together... This is why it’s going to be hilarious watching the drama play out as March Madness moves forward.

I know what goes on between Shawn and his potential sister-in-law is between them and absolutely none of my business; but when I see someone taking shots at my family, that boils my blood. Nobody roasts Legacy harder than its own members; that’s because we are family. I feel like we can’t stress this enough, folks- We may bicker back and forth and make fun of each other mercilessly at times, but if you come after one of our own, you best believe we’ll come after you like a rabid pack of wolves. So, when I see Osira coming after Shawn the way she has recently... Yeah, between that nonsense and joining BoB, it’s made it really easy for me to push aside the fact that it’s Atty’s sister and looks at her like another piece of litter that needs removing. I’ll deal with whatever consequences come of it, but I’m looking forward to putting away another bad seed in the finals. At least I won’t feel as guilty when I kick the shit out of this Themis to move forward.

Then there’s the fact that I know brother mine all too well; at some point, he’s going to make sure the world knows how he’s helped Atty and me along in our journeys. How he’s laid down for both of us and granted us victories; then he’ll talk about how we don’t deserve or aren’t ready for the ones we face currently. Have I hit the mark yet? Look, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it one more time: I appreciate you looking out for me, Shawn. It’s not lost on me that everything you’ve done for my gain has been to help Legacy as a whole. Because that helps Shawn Warstein, and that’s who you lookout for the most. I’m not pointing that out as a character flaw, that’s just human nature; But quit acting like some saint for doing yourself a solid. I’ve yet to actually benefit from your noble gestures and I think I’m past the point of needing training wheels. It’s okay for you to let go now, Big Brother Mine; Little Sister is more than ready and able to show you how much she doesn’t need your help. Consider March Madness my coming-out party: I’m afraid I have to peace out for now but fear not my dears: there’s much more to come.”

But I digress...


If people think they’ve seen the best of me, they haven’t seen anything yet.


_____


The sun causes the barrier to glimmer up ahead; her breathing is shallow and her heart races, but Betsy doesn’t stop her break-neck pace. Finally approaching the barrier, she lunges at it, diving through it and rolling on the ground as she crosses. The townsfolk are right behind and approaching quickly; Betsy looks around desperately, barely aware that her thin pajamas have reappeared on her body. She attempts to get to her feet to run, but her legs have turned to jelly; crawling towards another path desperately, she looks over her shoulder and realizes she’ll never make it away from the mob in time. Frozen in horror now, she watches as the townsfolk reach the barrier; squeezing her eyes shut, she braces herself for the attack...

But nothing happens.

She opens one eye slowly and looks towards the barrier. The townsfolk are on the other side, slamming at it with their fists and weapons; all of them are calling for her head, but none of them seem able to get through. Getting to her feet, she slowly walks back over to the barrier for Loose Ends and leans in close to clear up the shadowy faces. Her mouth drops open slightly as she begins to recognize the faces she’s looking at: Demos, Ned Kaye, Liam Roberts, Terry Borden, Calypso, Kris The Hammer von Bonn, Scarlet the Huntress, Ruckus, Captain Future, Champ Sportsman, Mickey Kinkade, Dean Rose, Ethos, Diesel, Andre Dixon, Peter Pillmour.

All the known competitors in the Second Chance battle royal.

As she considers this, a notion hits her: At any point during the final rounds, she could end up needing the redemption of a second chance herself. The idea of this leaves a bitter taste on her tongue as she studies the angry faces again. Supposing she made it through to the triple threat finals, any one of the frenzied townsfolk could end up in that ring with her. This thought takes a hold of her brain and she begins to eye certain looming threats. Most of these folks were just nuisances that would be squashed out easily enough; however, there were plenty of heavy hitters who she’d just as soon not have to worry about on top of those already in the Elite Eight.

As battle strategies begin to formulate in her mind, she can feel something materialize in her hand. Looking down, her green eyes widen to realize a large grenade was resting in her palm. Looking back up at the angry mob only a few feet away, she nibbles on her lip as she contemplates her options. A smile slowly creeps over her face, though there’s no joy behind it. Pulling the pin out of the grenade, she launches it casually across the barrier. Turning her back to the townsfolk, who have gathered over it curiously, she begins to head towards the path labeled Devils Run. A loud explosion accompanied by panicked screams is left behind as she enters the next world, never looking back...

FORMER