- A week or so before Relentless -

“You’re gonna have to run this by me again because this isn't making sense.”

Across from me sits Anissa De La Cruz, the Warden here at Central California Women’s Prison. Around the table also sit Governor Gavin Newsom, the Director of Correctional Services David Hicks, and my dear, dear brother Charlie Nickles, fidgeting while clad in a corporate suit that seems to be holding him hostage.

It’s been a week or so since Charlie visited me and promised to get me out of here, and apparently, he was serious.

“What part do you not understand, inmate?” The way the Warden looks at me might as well be a murder attempt. She doesn’t like this one bit. “The Governor and the State of California have decided to embark on an ambitious work release program, and you’re the poster child for it, inmate. You’re gonna answer the age-old question: Can a serial killer be rehabilitated? Every ten days, you’ll be furloughed for 72 hours to compete on XWF wrestling shows. You’ll be put in atmospheres rife with violence, horror, and all the triggers that made you quite the cult classic during your serial killing days.”

I try to interject, but Governor Newsom waves me off and joins the discussion, “Miss Nichols, if you win a match, some time will be reduced from your sentence. If you win a championship, more time will be taken off your sentence. If you defend said title, even more time will be reduced from your sentence. It’s as simple as that.”

My head is whirling. This can’t be real. “How much time for each?”

All heads turn to my dear brother Charlie. He eagerly produces some crumpled papers that have ketchup and mustard smudges on them. I slide my shackled hands across the table and snatch them from him, catching eyes with him and seeing the glad-happy joy in them.

“What the fuck have you done, Charlie?”

“Something cool,” he replies with a grin, showcasing pearly whites that seem to shine with a cartoonish effect, like I can expect a ‘bling’ sound any second.

I analyze the papers. Being a Prosecutor for the city of Los Angeles for years taught me a lot about documents and contracts, especially when dealing with the Government, so I take my time. My eyes can’t help but grow to saucers as I read the meat-and-taters of the papers, though.

Regular Match Win = Three months reduced

Championship Title Win = Twelve months reduced

Successful Championship Title Defense = Six months reduced

“Jesus….” I pause a beat, head shaking. They can’t be serious. “I see nothing about a loss. What happens when I lose?”

“Nothing. Think of it as a win-win even if you lose.” The Governor smirks.

“Except for the pain and bruises.” I counter.

They nod in silent agreement.

“This is… great... but I dunno how to wrestle. I mean, I did mixed martial arts with Duncan.” My eyes instinctively shut when I say his name. My fiancé, who trained hard in MMA to be prepared for anything on the streets he patrolled, made sure I trained too. He’s also the one I hurt the most when he busted me and brought my killing spree to an end.

Charlie sparks to life with excited animation in his stiff suit. “That’s ok! MMA is a great base for the shit we do! We in the Corporation have the best of the best who are better than all the rest! We have all the bases covered. We even have a wrestlebot! We’re all future first ballot XWF Hall of Legends, so we’ll get you trained and fucking people up real quick like… AND IN A HURRY!”

The absurdity of this forces a shake of my head. I look away from my brother and eye the others with another head shake. This is ridiculous.

“What bout multiple-person matches? I don’t know much about wrestling, but I know there are tag teams and battle royale events, so do I get credited with multiple wins in one setting?”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” The Warden’s voice booms. I can tell she’s been waiting for any excuse to yell at me because of all this.

“Gotcha, Warden. I take it I’ll be heavily supervised during these furloughs? Lots of cops hovering next to me?”

The Warden opens her mouth, but Governor Newsom cuts her off. “Actually, Ms. Nichols, you’ll be administered Aegis Nanocell. It’s a rice grain sized nanomedical implant injected into your soft tissue that will provide continuous real-time location, biometrics, and behavioural telemetry. Unjammable, quantum secure, tamper immune, so no funny stuff from you, okay? It’ll be operated by the state corrections authority via a purpose built secure network, and, yes, Ms. Nichols, we’ll have plain-clothed agents monitoring you at times too. I cannot stress this enough; no funny stuff.”

I nod. “Understood, Governor. I don’t know a thing about pro wrestling, but I’m not passing this up.” By my estimate, I’ll have the remaining 25 years of my sentence knocked out within two years if things go perfectly, three years if not. I’d be a damn fool to reject this ludicrous deal. Thank God for liberal policies, I guess!

“Excellent!” Governor Newsom beams me a Cheshire cat grin.

He slides me the pen, and I go about jotting my name down on all the appropriate blocks, my heart racing harder, my hands becoming slicker with sweat upon each area I sign.

Then it is done. I pant. Surely I’ll wake up any moment now and realize this is a dream.

“SIGNED. SEALED. DELIVERED.” Charlie’s roar knocks me out of my thoughts. “Told ya I’d get ya out of here, Jennie! Charlie and Jennie! XWF! Brother and Sister! The Duo of Duos!” He jumps to a stand and pumps his fists into the air.

“Well, yes, but our mutual constituent, Mr. Oz, put this together, too. You both owe him a big thanks when you see him.” The Governor iterates.

“Yeah, yeah, him too! Who’s the best big brother in the world, Jennie? Come on, Jennie, who dat?” His smile seems endless, his arms spread wide for an air-hug across the table.

I do not reciprocate. Sure, I should be happy and thankful to him. But all of this stuff doesn’t magically erase how he abandoned me to the cruelty of our parents, although I wish it did.

Standing up, I pay Charlie no regard one way or the other. The others in the room stand.

“Is there anything else, Warden? Governor? Director?”

“Yes, actually.” The Director of Correctional Services speaks for the first time. “Sometimes you’ll be granted a 24-hour furlough for XWF related appearances that don’t involve competing. No time reduced from your sentence for those appearances, though. The first one will be at an XWF pay per view called Relentless next week. Your brother has been quite adamant about you attending to get acquainted with the locker room and board of directors.”

I toss a glance at Charlie again. He’s still standing there, big ass grin, arms stretched out for that air-hug, fingers wiggling excitedly. What a fool. He doesn’t get it.

There’s a lot to process now, and I don’t want to see Charlie any more than I need to, so I motion my cuffed limbs to the door and we all take our leave.

—------- ONE WEEK LATER —-------

No juicy steak and burgers at a fancy restaurant.

No spending spree for clothes.

No gorging on snacks and sodas.

I would have loved any of those as my first bouts of freedom when I got into Charlie’s limo outside of the prison gates, yet here I stand still in my prison jumpsuit while Charlie kneels, weeping at the gravesite marked in granite with the name Robyn Gonzales, LSM.

“What the fuck, Charlie? Who is this?”

“Your… niece.”

My heart sinks some. I was an aunt?

“Excuse me?”

“My daughter. I….” There’s a hesitation in his words, like he’s weighing what to say. “...I killed her.”

My breath catches in my throat; it feels like I’ve been sucker punched.

“Charlie, how? What did you do?” I feel the heat rising in my body, pulse hammering in my neck so loud it feels like it's echoing in my skull.

He punches the tombstone once, twice, then again and again. I don’t stop him. “I was drugged out of my FUCKING mind, Jennie! It was… an …  accident or.. I dunno… Some fucking TRIAD wrestling show I wanted to get myself over on…. FUCK… and I thought it’d be hardcore to attack my own daughter. It went too far.. It just… I couldn’t stop…. It went too far…And suddenly……. She’s dead.”

“Charlie!” My voice snaps out. “WHAT THE FUCK?!?”

“I didn’t mean to! I tried to have her resurrected. But those fucking mediums scammed me, Jennie. They told me I had to burn her body to ash as part of the ritual. I did it. I did everything. AND NOTHING! THEY FUCKED ME OVER! All I got out of it is her ashes in an urn… an urn I keep till this day!”

My fingers curl instinctively. Disgust doesn’t begin to describe what I’m feeling.

“Jennie… we’re here… we’re bonding! Please bond with me! So much lost time.. But..  Look…” He gestures to the grave like he’s some kind of fucking game show host presenting a prize. “We’re twins, Jennie. Killers. We’ve killed. You’re not the only one in the family who does it!”

He crawls toward me on his knees, reaching up to me like some beggar on the street. He wants me to kneel with him. I swat them away.

He’s trying to…. IMPRESS me?

I want to attack.

I want to tear my own skin off to escape this.

“I killed scumbags, Charlie! I killed the shitbags who slipped through the cracks, pedophiles, rapists, murderers. I killed those who protected them. I killed those who knew how to beat the system, Charlie. Don’t you DARE say we’re the same!”

I turn away and leave him groveling at the grave.

His killing of Robyn may have been an accident, a promo gone too far, but he would have to pay.

And pay he will, when and where it matters most to him.

Relentless.

___________________________________________

Present  - A week after Relentless - or this past week-

Mr. Oz pushes the doors open to the Corporation headquarters War Room, and we walk in, seeing Charlie and most of the Corporation already in attendance, minus Peter Principle, Nadine, and the Grok. I have the manila file folder labeled ‘The Grok’ in my hand. It was sent to me in prison a few days after Relentless to prep me for my debut match.

“What the hell, Charlie?” I sneer and toss the folder across the table, sending the contents spilling out. “I don’t know much about pro wrestling, but I know there are people called ‘jobbers’ who are contractually bound to lose, but instead of getting me booked against one of them, you got me booked against a damn Robo-Wrestler who destroyed that Monster-Machine Enigma behemoth?”

Charlie doesn’t respond. His fists are balled and pressed on the polished oak table. This is the first time I’ve seen him since I cost him the Universal Championship at Relentless. “You’ve got some FUCKING nerve complaining to me about your FUCKING booking, Jennie…after you FUCKING BETRAYED ME AT RELENTLESS!”

He rushes forward, finger thrust at me, and stops inches from my face. I can see so many different emotions running through his eyes, emotions I’ve seen in so many eyes while prosecuting them in court, in some eyes I’ve shut forever.

“You'd better take the glare out of your stare, Charlie,” I warn.

“You better ex-FUCKING-splain yourself, Jennie! I moved heaven and earth to get you out on this work release thing. I took you to my daughter’s grave to bond with you, to connect with you, killer-to-killer. I took you to Relentless to win that title for you, for us, to make up for all these years. AND YOU RUINED IT! YOU BETRAYED ME!”

He hammerfists the table so hard a crack appears on it.

“Betray you? That’s what you think I did? I didn’t betray you; I abandoned you when you needed me the most, just like you abandoned me when I needed you the most. You need to atone for leaving me to the wolves our parents were. You need to atone for killing your daughter… MY NEICE.. Who I never got to meet because you wanted to impress some cameras for a wrestling program. Look at you right now, all teary eyed, sneering, hurt, angry, punching tables… now you know how I felt every fucking day after you left. Is it computing yet, Charlie?” I jab my finger HARD into the vein protruding on his angry forehead. “It’s my scarlet verdict being given to you.”

A blood curdling scream rips from his throat. He tosses a chair across the room, shattering it, then takes his suit jacket off and furiously rips it to pieces with his bare hands. “I DID NOT ABANDON YOU… I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD! YEAH I SHOULD HAVE MADE SURE BUT I.. I JUST… FUCK DAMN IT! WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO JENNIE? TELL ME! TELL ME HOW TO MAKE IT RIGHT! FUCKING FUCK!”

I watch him pace. The other Corporation members are silent, looking at Charlie as I am, witnessing the meltdown. Placing a hand on my brother’s shoulder, I guide him to his seat. “Earn my trust, Charlie. Protect me like you used to before you abandoned me. That’s how you make things right. You can start with that thing right there.” I point to the spilled folder with Grok’s info on it.

Charlie buries his crying face into his hands and doesn’t answer me. “Does anyone else know how to help me with this Robot-Wrestler? It said he was a member of our group? Corporation? Something?” I look around the room.

Mr. Oz tosses me a knowing nod. “Yeah, it’s all good with the Grok. He’s in our pocket, with Musk and them. We’ve already got a ‘never defeat a Nickles’ program installed and will be adding some extra bells and whistles to ensure the Grok not only lets you win but makes you look good.”

That gives me some relief, but I’m not completely convinced. “Thanks, but I want contingencies in place just in case. Its wires can get crossed or something and go Skynet on my ass. It’s a robot. It doesn’t even feel pain, so how am I supposed to hurt it? It’ll turn me into paste if it goes coo-coo. You’re the big money guy, Mr. Oz. Perhaps you can buy a few industrial size magnets and have them stealthily placed under the ring with a button I can press, or one of you can press if things go south?”

Oz’s brows shift with interest. “Hmmm, smart. Pin the Grok via magnets. It definitely won’t be able to kick out of that. It's got metal parts on it and in it. Doable. I’m liking it.”

The door opens, cutting him off. We all turn our heads and see the tall red-haired woman with the white lab coat walk in. She has a laboratory bag slung over her shoulder and carries a ream of papers.

“Ah,” Mr Oz interjects and greets her before turning to all of us. “Let’s welcome the newest member to the Corporation. She is our official Chief Medical Officer… Dr. Holly Cambric.”

The group claps and welcomes her into a seat. She doesn’t smile. She doesn’t frown. She looks quite indifferent.

But she does speak, saying, “Thank you. The Black Rainbow fired me for letting a test subject escape on my watch. Understandable. But I’m grateful for this opportunity and will not let you down.”

They applaud her.

I do too.

Mr. Oz gestures toward me again. “Back to the Grok issue. Magnets are a go just in case, but, like I said, probably won’t need it since we’ve got the Grok programmed to lose to you, to any of us actually.”

The doors open once more. It’s Peter Principle and Nadine. Peter is in a suped up wheelchair. It’s motorized and has all the amenities that Steven Hakwins had, complete with a brain-linked computer and keyboard.


“Ladies and Gentlemen, we apologize for the tardiness. As you can see, Mr. Principle got some upgrades.” Nadine remarks sassyly, a confident smirk on her face.

A monotone computer voice, controlled by Peter’s thoughts, chimes in with delayed cadence, “AH-HA-HA-HA… AH-HA-HA-HA…. This…. Is… what.. You… call… a.. power-play…. Grok… will… not… be….programmed… to… lose… Oz… must… know… his… role… and… shut… his… mouth… AH-HA-HA-HA….. AH-HA-HA-HA… Charlie… is… not… the… leader… I…am…. AH-HA-HA-HA…. Only… I… can… approve… Grok…jobber…mode… for…you…serial… killer… AH-HA-HA-HA…”

My shoulders tense, jaw clenched tight enough to make my teeth hurt. This son of a bitch! No. Absolutely not. This is my freedom we’re talking about. To hell with corporate power plays.

I say nothing. I simply bolt forward as fast as I can. Peter’s eyes grow wide and wild as I take wing, hurtling through the air with my knee thrust out. It careens into his chest, and I swear I hear a ‘crack’ as his body jolts. Peter and his suped-up wheelchair topple over. Nadine screams like she’s the one getting attacked.

I see a catheter (urine bag) fall from his pants leg, so I grab it and yank hard, violently pulling it free, tube and all. Peter yelps like an injured puppy. Piss flies everywhere, coercing the Corporation to stay out of the way.

The monotone computer voice begins speaking again, “HELP… AHHHHH…. OOOOOWWW… MY…. DIIIIIICK…. HELP…. DANGER… DANGER…!!!!!”

The tube is long enough for what I want to do now, though it’s not the best option I would go for. Nevertheless, I mount Peter from behind and wrap the tubing around his neck and synch it tight, strangling the hell out of him.

“APPROVE IT! APPROVE JOBBER MODE FOR GROK! APPROVE IT RIGHT NOW OR YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD!” I scream, and god does this feel good. A part of me wants him to say no. To resist me.

The monotone computer voice sparks to life again, “NEED…. AIR…. HELP….. I’M …… DYING…..NADINE….I’M DEAD…. OH..GOD… NADINE… TAKE…CARE… OF…. MY…. CAT….SHE…WILL… MISS….ME…. AHHHHHH….”

I can’t stop the smile forming, and those excited goosebumps dotting my body. Peter doesn’t fit the ‘code’ for a killing, but in this moment, I know only one truth in life….

PETER

PRINCIPLE

MUST

DIE!

I see the members of the Corporation closing in around me, hands outstretched. They shout at me to relent, but I do not. Out of nowhere, I see Charlie bulldoze through them to get to me. Instead of pulling me off like I assume he is trying to do, he throws his body between me and the rest, just like he used to throw his body between me and our parents when they brought the abuse.

He uses his big frame as a buffer, allowing me to continue choking Peter.

“Just like when we were kids.. Remember?” Charlie says to me, between barking growls at the rest who’re trying to pull me off Peter.

Once again, the monotone computer voice pipes up as Peter’s face turns colors, “JOBBER…MODE…”  The voice trails off.

My field of vision catches Dr. Holly Cambric peering through the chaos. She looks so calm. I feel a sudden sting in my arm, like a needle prick. Holly nods, and I see the syringe in her hand and……cloudiness…I feel sluggish all of a sudden.

Then….. ZZzz ZZZZZ..

I wake up some time later, sitting in a chair. The Corporation is standing around me, welcoming me back with pats on the shoulder. Looking around, I notice I’m still in the Corporation War Room. But Peter and Nadine are gone.

Charlie kneels beside me, and I’m surprised he’s composed himself and is squeezing my hand. “Hey, ya stangler you, haha. Thought you were gonna really kill ole Peter there for a moment. That fucker’s face changed so many colors it looked like a rainbow! But, uh, look…. I know things are fucked up and weird between us and even within the Corporation, but Peter, Nadine, and even that clanker Grok are part of our team. So, uh, yeah, you can’t be murdering them, ok?”

My body still feels wobbly from whatever Holly gave me, and I shake my head weakly. “I…. I’m sorry, Charlie? I think? I can usually control the impulses until I plan it all out, but this time it hit so hard and fast.”

“HA!” My dear brother dismisses it with a head bob. “It’s called a relapse. Welcome to the world of addiction! Perfectly normal. Now that murdering the shit out of Peter is out of your system, let’s get back on track. There is a power struggle going on within the Corporation right now, and Peter wanted to use our Grok bot to send a message to me via you on Warfare. That’s why ya got booked in this clusterfuck. But it’s ok. I think you put the fear of Jennie in Peter. I think he’ll approve jobber mode in Grok for you.”

Spirited by this news, I try to stand, but Charlie urges me to stay put. “Chill out. Mr. Oz is out getting those magnets just in case. The rest of us are gonna be putting you through the ringer in training. Your professional wrestling career is gonna be a fucking nightmare ‘on-the-job training’ type of thing, which is rare, so we gotta tailor make flash finish type training shit for you. With our guidance, you’ll short-circuit that clanker in no time if it decides not to job to you. So, chill the fuck out, rest for a bit. We got you. Let you dear old brother earn you back, like you said.”

Before I can say anything in reply, Charlie rushes away. I see him discussing things with the rest of the Corporation as I remain seated, groggy. My eyes shift across the room and notice Dr. Holly Cambric sitting alone at the table. She’s looking right at me, curiously, like she’s studying me.

End.