“Fucking hell, Vinnie…” Betsy Granger mutters, throwing a hand up in the air. A loud buzzing above her marks one of the XWF Drones flying overhead, intrusive as ever; a moment later, it drops after being zapped with a thin beam of pure plasma energy.


“A rather bold invasion of privacy, isn’t it?” Joel Granger asks of his daughter, stepping up beside her to take a better look at the deceptively shoddy-looking device.


”Of the worst sort, but it’s part of the fine print. Apparently, this thing can see into your mind and everything.” She rolls her green eyes dramatically, giving the obnoxious machine a rough kick.


“How the fuck is that supposed to work?” Joel asks incredulously, now eying the drone heavily.


” Let’s just go with bippity boppity bullshit and leave it at that.” Betsy replies waspishly, squatting down and dismantling the drone. After a few moments, she holds up a micro-chip with a smirk. ”This’ll be coming out of my X-Bux for sure.”


When Joel doesn’t reply, Betsy takes a closer look at her father’s face. His jovial smile was gone, his green eyes filled with concern as he studies her. “Do you want to talk about it?”


Her shoulders droop slightly as exhaustion hits her like a brick. Rising from her squatted position, she allows her weariness to show. ”Do you believe in life after this?”


Joel is unable to hide his surprise at her strange question. “Sure Bets, I’d like to believe the ones we’ve lost are up there mingling, waiting for the rest of us to come along. Why?”


”Do you believe there could be a hell… Or something very much like it… For those of us who die in anger or torment?” she continues tentatively, feeling the darkness shift around inside of her.


“I’ve always held the belief that the only demons and monsters out there are the ones we create. Maybe there is another place for them, but honey,” Joel pauses for a moment, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. “You don’t have to worry about such a fate.”


”I’m already living through worse, Papa… There’s so much you don’t know.” Betsy’s eyes shine as they fill with stinging tears, but she blinks them back furiously. ”I want to tell you everything, but I can feel it clawing at my throat... “


With a cry, Betsy breaks free of her father’s grip and turns away, grabbing at her head. Joel reaches out for her and manages to catch her by the elbow; a moment later, he’s flung across the yard as Betsy tosses him away with a growling shriek. Landing hard on his tailbone, Joel watches in terror as Betsy stalks across the yard, breathing heavily and eyes glowing bright red.


“Betsy?” James Raven had run out after hearing Betsy’s scream; now he was helping Joel to his feet, both men never taking their eyes off her.


”Not for much longer, now.” she answers in a tone full of malicious glee. A deep echo accompanies her own voice as a sinister smile spreads across her lips. ”Soon, Betsy Granger, and everyone she loves, will be mine or they will be exterminated."

"I don't know who the hell you think you are, but you have ten seconds to get the hell out of my daughter!" Joel demands.


With a laugh, the creature obliges. Betsy falls to her knees, panting hard as tears stained her cheeks. Joel and James flank her and help her to unsteady feet; she leans heavily against them, weakened by the encounter.


“Does anyone want to tell me what’s going on?” Joel asks, looking between the couple.

Before either can answer, a loud buzzing is heard from overhead; rolling her eyes heavenward, Betsy groans loudly as a drone marked with the XWF logo whizzes into view. Without a word, she pushes herself away from the men and stomps inside the house. Joel looks to James, his green eyes wide with confusion. James rests a hand on the man’s shoulder and nods.


“Let’s take a walk, there is a lot to fill you in on…” James says, guiding him towards the barn.


From the window, Betsy watches with glowing eyes as the two men walk away from the home. Behind her, Adelaide and Elena were preparing Thanksgiving dinner; but not even the delicious smells in the home could remove the dark mood in her heart. Her eyes become emerald slits as she watches James, lips pursing as she correctly guessed what the men were discussing.


“Don’t just stand around like a useless little lump; come set the table for dinner!” her mother says cheerfully, breaking Betsy of her thoughts.

With one last glare out of the window, Betsy turns and joins her mother and sister with a forced smile, carrying on the charade...



****


”So this is what it’s come to, has it, Charlie?

I once thought that maybe under the hard edges and girth, there was one last shred of humanity left to your person. That through all the many names you’ve touted and radical personalities that came with them, there was someone in there with a sense of decency. I allowed Dolly Waters to convince me that maybe you weren’t so bad, that maybe there was more to you than a disgusting troll.

Dolly was an idiot to think that, and I was an even bigger fool to listen to her.”

Standing before a camera in a field before a barren, twisted tree, The Impossible Traveler glares into the lens. No hint of her friendly demeanor remains. She wears a long, black trench coat, her hands stuffed in the pockets against the chilly air. The afternoon is dark and dreary, clearly matching the blackness of her mood. Her words leave her tongue like acid, each syllable dripping with contempt.

”You fucking shit pile excuse of a human, who the fuck do you think you are? The world already knew you weren’t a man, why did you have to prove it further in the locker room recently? Are you so fucking mentally stymied that you thought it was funny, or remotely okay, to make such comments? Let's answer these together; I’ll be sure to do it slowly so you can take plenty of notes with your crayons and construction paper. You can’t expect someone whose mother is also his aunt to have a working brain cell, after all. The only thing emptier than your vapid mind is the ghost loads you shoot into your sister every night.

To the first question, I say that you, Charlie Nickels, are the nastiest, foulest, most grotesque form of scum that plagues this planet. Everywhere you slither, you leave a trail of toxic slime behind you, leaving a wake of destruction you laugh off casually. I might have been put here to cause a little trouble myself, but until today, I’d never seen anything as sorry as you are. How abysmal is your existence that you would take pleasure in terrorizing the fairer gender in such a fashion? You aren’t humorous, you’re a downright bully that deserves every inch of this lynching I have lined up for you. If I thought you had any between your legs to brag of, I’d hang you on a thick branch with a thin wire by your balls and leave you for the buzzards to peck at.

Although, I think even they would rather starve than feast on your unpalatable flesh.

As if on cue, a swarm of different bird's circle above her head; a breeze picks up, blowing her golden locks around her face dramatically.

”Moving on to question two, the measures to which you’re willing to sink just to get a rise out of people are pathetic and inexcusable. As much as I’d love to see some form of punishment from upper management for your recent actions, I’d much rather take justice into my own hands this time around. Nothing they do will amount to more than a slap on the wrist and a few minutes in time out. I’ll hurt you so thoroughly, you’ll rue what you've done for as long as I allow you to live. And given my current mood, that may not be for much longer. I don’t give a fuck how this is taken; if I rid the world of your poison, I’ll smile as they read me my rights.”

A single raven flies down from the flock and settles onto her shoulder. Betsy caresses its little head, her face growing darker.

”As to the final question put forth for consideration, I’ve allowed a few theories to enter my mind. Perhaps you were dropped on the head too much as a child. Maybe you’ve taken one too many funny pills and threw your chemical balance off. Inbreeding is my prevailing theory, as I already gave away before. It’s the only explanation for your underdeveloped brain and complete lack of sense. The fact that you would take a sensitive subject like rape and not only attempt to use it to exploit me, but to terrorize other female members of the XWF roster in our own locker room? Uh, hello, sexual harassment much? But again, this is the type of shit that gets overlooked all the time because wrestling has always very loudly been a man's sport.

That’s why mindless cretins like Charlie Nickels think he can get away with making comments that would drive off one of the best female wrestlers of our era. That’s why women like Lycana and I have to step up and shut down those who would try to stifle our voices and threaten us back into being little more than obedient housewives. I’ve sat back and watched long enough as men all around me pretended to have feminist ideals while making sure that it was still all about the boys. I’ve had to fight and scrape my way to get where I am, despite those who would either shame me for my aspiration or sexualize me in an attempt to get inside my head. My favorites are the ones who threaten violence like I’m afraid to feel a little pain. I’m glad I’m surrounded by men who aren’t afraid to hit a woman; it’ll make it that much easier to take their pride when they all inevitably fall to me.

It starts at Bad Medicine with you, Charlie.”

Her gloved hands ball into fists as a familiar glow begins to emit from every pore in her body.

”You want to speak of my delusions Charlie, but have failed to accept your own demented fantasies. Look at how you babble mindlessly of my love life and attempt, again, to use it as a way to hurt me. I feel like I’ve heard this before... Oh right, it’s the same recycled shit you use on every female you come up against. In your dimwitted mind, you seem to think that all of us are the same, with perhaps the exception of Dolly Waters and again... Well...

Moving on.

It’s cute, how you used the Raven as an attempt to feed into insecurities I let go of long ago. I’ll make sure James gets a look at it; he’s been complaining that all his comedy specials have gotten stale. The jokes you allow to roll off your tongue should keep him going for at least a day.”

The raven caws gently and nuzzles at her chin. An icy smile crosses her face.

I know it’s hard to make friends and lovers when your face looks like a dick suffering from necrosis and you smell like the underside of unwashed fat rolls, but far be it from me to rub your nose in it. It just stands to reason that you wouldn’t know how to interpret a healthy relationship if it bit you in the taint. It won’t matter for much longer, because at Bad Medicine, the only kiss you need to worry about is my fist sending your teeth down your gullet. Since I know now that you have absolutely nothing going on in your pants, I suppose I’ll have to do with ripping your man titties off and shoving them down your throat. Before they have a chance to reach either intestine, I’ll fish up your asshole with a rusty skewer and pull them out so you can have seconds.

Betsy Granger is much more than all grown-up, you Bono-sized piece of shit. I have evolved to an entirely new level; I have ascended to a place that an inconsequential piece of filth like yourself could ever hope to reach. Not only will you never wrap your grubby fingers around the Television Title again, but I will also personally make sure you never, ever, have the opportunity to bully any of the women around here, or anywhere, ever again. I’ll tear you from limb to limb and scatter the remains about my house like trophies.

You have no idea what you’re messing with this time around, Charlie. You’re under the impression that I’m just some good girl gone bad, another bitch that finally went psycho. Of course, your narrow views would blind you to what’s really happening before your eyes. The weak don’t recognize their superiors when they stand before them; and you, my dearest fool, are so busy barking away that you miss what happens around you. I haven’t fallen to my demons, Charlie; I’ve merely become one with them. You wouldn’t know what it truly means to embrace the dark because you’ve never looked it in the eye the way I have. What would you know of what happens in my mind? Even Doc D’Ville would warn you to stay out of the mind of a spurned woman; he’s been privy to what happens in there.

But even he isn’t ready for what resides there now.”

Cupping a hand between her mouth and the raven’s face, she whispers something indistinct to the cameras. A moment later, the raven flies off, followed by the rest of the birds. Betsy watches them go until they disappear before her smile fades once more.

”You have fifteen minutes to bring everything you have in your limited arsenal. You’ve already proven as predictable as you are despicable, and here I thought we had something special. I thought you would come at me with something fun, something creative; after all, there is a prize on the line and you’ve been wanting this shot at me personally for quite some time. Well now’s your chance to take your best shot, you fat fucking cunt. Come at me with all the he-man woman hate you have and take blind stabs at my personal life. I love how fucking moronic you make yourself look; I honestly don’t think I even needed to make as much effort as I have.

Everyone knows there’s only one way this is destined to end.


When the referee comes to lift my hand, I’ll force him to lift your disembodied head instead.”

Betsy’s feet lift slowly from the ground as she unclenches her fists and begins to float.

”There will be no timey-wimey, wibbly-wobbly tricks or effects to save you from what’s to come, Charlie Nickels. CGI won’t fix the massacre that I intend to make of you once that bell rings and our time begins. You will feel every ounce of penance I will inflict upon you for your sins against me and anyone you’ve unjustly sent fleeing into the abyss. I will remove that slanderous tongue that spreads such empty rumors from your head; and perhaps while I’m at it, your fingers as well so writing out your deranged propaganda is no longer a viable option. Because that would be the worst punishment for a feeble fuck like you, wouldn’t it? Not being heard, ignored by the masses, screaming as loud as you possibly can to no avail. What a blow to your uncivilized mind and shriveling ego, being unable to spew your hate vomit while waving your Rebel Flag, pounding luke-warm PBR’s, and attending Friday’s Klan meeting. Being silenced by not only a fiercer, stronger warrior than you, but a woman to boot.

Put that in your mouth and choke on it, bitch.

They say there is no wrath like a woman scorned; I’m quite looking forward to finding that out first hand. Pity I have such a short amount of time to make you suffer. It’s not nearly long enough for the bullshit you’ve plagued the XWF with since your arrival.

It’s funny… Andy Warhol once said that everyone gets fifteen minutes of fame. Mine has only just begun, yours never even had the timer set. Now I’m taking that fifteen minutes as a personal challenge, lets see how famous I can make Charlie Nickels before I dispose of him permanently. You should be honored, Charlie; it’s going to be a crimson ball and you’re the guest of honor. I’m going to make sure what I do in that ring will linger; long after you’re forced into the darkness that awaits your future, my face will burrow into your mind as a reminder of the night all of your worst fears were realized.

Darling, I am the monster under your bed and the cause of all your nocturnal emissions. Every man has a weakness and you were kind enough to expose yours; don’t worry Toots, I won’t spill it for the world to hear; I’d much rather see the horror and shock in your eyes as I reveal what you truly are. It would be easy to call you a monster, but that would imply that you have some level of fear and intimidation to work with, and quite frankly, I’m just ready to wash my hands of you once and for all.

Come Bad Medicine, your nightmares become my feast, your blood my wine, and your soul my prize.”

With a hiss, Betsy sends a bolt of energy to the camera, effectively shutting it down.

FORMER