Post by tirri on Aug 21, 2021 11:52:12 GMT -5
Awakening (offcam)
August 19th 2021
02:15am
Rivers Residence
Reno, Nevada
A burning fire heating the air around her. She tries to move, but her body doesn’t respond to her commands. She can only stare as the flames creep closer and closer to her. She tries to scream, but no voice comes out. Suddenly she sees her hands stretch outwards, but she didn’t move them. She watches in disbelief as her hands just hang there, outstretched as if warming up next to a fireplace. A large, violent flame flashes past her head. She can smell the singed hair on her face.
And then… giggling. Manic, shrill giggling.
Jenny bolted upright on her bed, sweating profusely. She looked around, trying to get her bearings. She was home. It was night.
A dream?
Her hand shoots to her face and she can feel part of her eyebrows missing. It wasn’t a dream. The smell of smoke permeates the room and she locates it to a pile of clothes thrown in the corner.
What had happened? Was she in a fire?
She closed her eyes, trying to remember. Trying to calm herself down. Then another realization struck and she felt a chill go down her spine.
The voice. It wasn’t there. No matter how much she called out to it, there was no response. What had happened? Flickers of memory. She remembers charging into the basement to confront her brother after he walked out on her at EXP11. And then… nothing. No, flickers. Faint traces of memory. Flashes. Raab putting her down. A hospital. Bert and his eyepatch. A building, an explosion… Ragdoll helpless, choking between her legs. And… the fire.
“She’s getting more and more powerful”
Her eyes snapped back open and she looked into the corner. SuMa stood there. Silently observing. “Wh… what do you mean?” she croaks. Her voice was weak, her throat felt drier than the Nevada desert around them.
“Queenie. She’s had control for weeks.” SuMa spoke in a low voice. No emotion. Just stating the fact.
Jenny blinked in disbelief. “Weeks?”
The massive man merely nodded in response.
“How? Why?” Disbelief spread through Jenny’s body. She wasn’t like Tom, Queenie was nothing more than an aspect of her. Not a full blown personality like the beast.
“We don’t know. We don’t care.” SuMa responded nonchalantly and began to leave the room. He yanked the door open, but stopped. After a short pause he spoke again, a warm tinge to his usually cold voice. It was Tom, pushing through. “Be careful Jenny… or you’ll end up like me.”
With that, SuMa left the bedroom, leaving Jenny alone. She gripped her duvet tightly, trying to fight the panic that was spreading on her body. “Where are you…” she muttered quietly, addressing the voice that had been her companion for so long. Of all the things, it’s absence was terrifying to her.
“Please… talk to me…” she said again, desperation creeping into her voice.
“Jiminy ain’t here sweetie, I told him to bugger off and after I punched myself in the head enough, he skedaddled!” A shrill voice broke the silence, causing Jenny to freeze. She scanned the room once more, her eyes stopping at the large mirror on her vanity table. The sight there made her blood boil.
The reflection of Queenie was smiling at her, lounging on the bed without a care in the world. Jenny got up and stared down her reflection, seething fire replacing her confusion and fear. “You.”
Blowing a kiss to Jenny, Queenie hopped up and threw her arms to the sides, as if presenting herself. “ME!”
Staring at her twisted reflection, the fire in Jenny began to smolder. She spoke with a voice brimming with venom. “You got a lot of nerve… showing up after the trick you pulled.”
The paint-faced femme fatale gave a cheeky grin and shrugged. “What can I say Jenny-darling, I got really, really bored in here and since Jiminy isn’t around, I figured I’d give you someone to talk to. After all, when it comes to crazy people, it’s not the voices talking in their head that is worrying… it’s when they stop!”
Fighting the urge to just turn around and walk out, Jenny stared down the trickster. She needed answers. “How did you do that? You are nothing more than a reflection. A Mask I put on when I need to do things I otherwise couldn’t. YOU’RE. NOT. REAL!”
She wasn’t shouting, but the tone of her voice served the same effect. Queenie wasn’t phased at all though, simply tapping her chin in a playful manner. “See, that’s where you are wrong dear. I am very much real. As much as you are real. You really thought you could just put on a fresh coat of paint, pretend to be something you’re not and then just forget about it when you take the paint off? Tut tut Jenny, you should know better. See, while it might have started that way… But whats the one thing you should have learned from the big guy eh? Don’t feed the beast” she finished with a chuckle and blew a kiss to Jenny.
The implication struck Jenny like a runaway train. She felt a shudder go through her, but fought hard to suppress it, managing to keep her composure. “I am not like Tom. YOU are NOT like SuMa. The beast is just a corruption of the voice.” She paused, mulling it over. “But if that is what it takes to get rid of you… Then I’ll stop relying on you. I can easily slip back to wrestling as just myself. No need for “Queenie”” The last word was filled to the brim with vitriol.
But to her surprise all it did was cause Queenie to burst out into a fit of laughter. She doubled over, cuddling her mid-section trying to quell it. An act that merely served to piss Jenny off even more. “What are you laughing about, you damn troll? You’re gonna be stuck in my head for the rest of eternity.”
Queenie started to swallow the laughter, wiping away a tear of joy from the corner of her eye as she does. When she finally got it under control, she glanced up with an almost compassionate look. “Jenny. Darling. You just don’t get it do you? You’re not 21 anymore. You can’t just dig out the old teal singlet and cloth mask and pretend to be the Queen Machine of old. You can’t even do the things you did as “The Queen” Jennifer Stryfe, since you don’t have the backstage pull or the prestige. Jennifer Rivers is of no consequence in this business, outside maybe as the big guys wrangler. Jenny dear… if you want to do all these things you’ve done, if you want to remain relevant in this business… You… NEED… ME!”
The last few words were delivered with an almost creepy emphasis, a voice barely above a whisper. Staring down her alter ego Jenny felt determination brimming through her. She took a step back, turned around and headed for the door, quipping over her shoulder in a nonchalant manner. “It’s better to be forgotten than to become like HIM” And with that she grabbed her clothes, stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her.
Jenny immediately leant against a wall, slumping all the way to the ground. With shaky hands she pulled her phone from the pockets of her jacket and typed out a simple message. “We need to talk. I need help”. Her finger hovered over the send-button as she replayed the events on her head, until she mustered the willpower and pressed it. As she waited for a response, it felt like minutes turned into hours until her phone lit up and the screen read “Tomorrow. - Ling”
She let out a sigh of relief and closed her eyes. She needed to tell someone. Talk to someone. And Ling was the closest thing she had to a real friend. The exhaustion hit her on that moment and despite being slumped on the floor, curled against a wall, sleep overcame her.
What she didn’t know was that when she left the room, Queenie didn’t vanish. Instead she hopped back into the bed and stretched like a cat. “I love it when a plan comes together… right Jiminy?”
(... You monster)
A wide smile spread on Queenie's lips and she giggled herself to sleep.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
August 19th 2021
11:48am
Rivers Residence
Reno, Nevada.
Jenny had a restless night after the encounter with Queenie. She hadn’t wanted to go back to her bedroom, and for her own peace of mind had covered the big mirror in the living room. Having slept on the ground, hunched against wall had left its marks as she was sore and looked like shit. Having woken up at 8am she had just sat on the couch, staring into nothingness, her brain desperately trying to piece together the events of the past few weeks. No matter how hard she tried, all she could get were flashes of memories, feelings, sensations, but nothing tangible. That was where her head was at when the doorbell rang.
“It’s open” she hollered, not even turning her head. The door opened and in stepped Xiao Ling Mei, the asian businesswoman Jenny had befriended over a decade ago along with Adam Mitchell. Ling walked in and took one look at Jenny before sitting down next to her.
“You look like shit. Whats going on. He acting up?” the last question was followed by a small nod towards the basement door. Jenny looked up to Ling, the dark rings around her eyes making her look like she was in her facepaint, and tried to offer a small, weak smile as she shook her head.
“No… not him. This… this is worse” She muttered under her breath. It was hard to talk about. If she spoke, Ling would become the second outsider ever to hear about her condition. And the first, Matt Knox, was family. “I… I’m losing it Ling.” she continued, her head hanging.
As per their last encounter, Ling had figured out to a point that Jenny had an issue similar to her brother, but she didn’t know details nor had she ever pressed for them. Having lived so long with Mitchell, who had more skeletons in his closet than your average graveyard, she knew very well that some things are better left buried. But the way Jenny looked and acted was not normal. This was not the headstrong, determined and intelligent woman she had grown to know and appreciate. What she was looking at was a mess of a person, barely holding on. “Talk to me Jenny. Whats going on?”
Ling had extended her arm and placed it around Jennys shoulder, suppressing a gasp of surprise as the lithe woman pressed herself into the embrace. Her worry only intensified. This was so out of character for Jenny. “C’mon Jenny… talk to me”
“I’m losing control…” Jenny mumbled into Ling’s side, her body shuddering. “I woke up last night… No memory for the last few weeks… Yet I’ve clearly been out and about…even appeared on two shows…” She said, still having an internal struggle on whether to tell the full truth.
She didn’t need to. “Queenie?” the question rose from the asian woman. Ling had pieced together enough of the puzzle. SuMa’s condition. The contrast to she saw when she watched LevelUp’s programming and what she knew of Jennifer.
A weak nod came from Jenny. “She… She took over. And I didn’t even realize it. She spent weeks going around doing god knows what. And when I woke up last night… She taunted me. I’m not like Tom, I’ve never been able to talk to Queenie. I only talk to the voice… my companion. But now it’s silent.”
Ling furrowed her brow. She thought she had the puzzle solved but the addition of this “companion” Jenny spoke of confused her. “Companion? So… Queenie isn’t like the beast is for Tom?”
“No… shouldn’t be. She’s just an act you know, a character I played for LevelUp. The paint, the clothes, the mannerisms. The companion told me it wasn’t wise to do that and I didn’t listen…” Jenny finally extracted herself from Ling’s embrace and got up, walking to the mirror she’d covered, pointing at it. “I know this looks silly, but she manifests in my reflection. I’ve realized it’s just my mind's way of rationalizing the split. But still… after last night, I couldn’t bear the thought of looking in a mirror…” The lithe woman sighed.
Ling stood up and walked to Jenny, pulling her back to the couch and sitting her down. “Let’s start with the obvious Jenny, You are not Tom. You are stronger mentally than he was. Whatever this “Queenie” is, it’s nothing you can’t beat. You’ve gone through hell and back in your life. From seeing Tom’s devolution to what he is, to the disaster of a marriage with Alex, to the battle with Kitty and the coma that followed. You’ve survived it all and been stronger for it. You really think that some reflection of you that doesn’t exist can supercede you?” She smiled at Jenny. “You’re Jennifer Fucking Rivers. You weren’t called “The Queen” just because of your husband. You WERE the Queen of the division. You don’t need to pretend to be some damn anarchist trickster to succeed.”
Slowly, but surely a smile rose to Jenny’s lips, Ling’s reassuring words giving her a sense of hope. “Thank you Ling… I needed that.”
Ling smiled and gave an affectionate pet to her cheek. “Anytime darling. Compared to the baggage Adam has, yours are light to deal with. Remember Jenny, I’m just a phonecall away.”
Jenny nodded and the two changed subjects, chatting away until Ling got up and left.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
August 19th. 2021
05:12pm
Rivers Residence
Reno, Nevada.
After Ling had left, Jenny had found herself roaming the house aimlessly, avoiding mirrors, not stopping to think about anything. She knew she needed to face Queenie sooner than later, but she didn’t feel ready. She sat down, feeling so lonely due to the voice’s absence. It had remained silent for so long after the coma, but ever since it spoke again, she had never quite realized just how much having a constant companion like it meant to her. They had both changed from the first time she remembers it showing itself, but it had always had her best interests in mind. She glanced over to her trophy case, and found herself thinking back to the night 10 years ago that the voice first spoke to her. A night when she was more alone than she had ever been, more desperate than she had ever been… a night not unlike tonight.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Inner Voices(off-cam)
September 30th 2011
11:32pm
Rivers Manor
Los Angeles, California
A small house on the outskirts of Los Angeles, California. Your typical Suburbs house. Two floors, slanted roof, garage, yard and a fence. Basking in the pale moonlight that shines from above. A single light flickers from the window at the side. The window to the living room. A small fire has been lit into the fireplace, dying flames devouring wood at a diminishing pace. In Front of the fireplace is a large recliner. Almost a throne-like chair. Upon it a female figure is slumped, staring at the fire. A voice speaks out. Weak, tired. Addressing nobody. Just... speaking.
“I had it all. I had all a girl can dream of. A loving husband. A successful career with a bright future ahead of me. I had fame. I had fortune. What good did it do to me?” She lets out a chuckle. But that chuckle has no joy in it. It is the ironic laugh of a defeated woman.
“I lost it all. The fame disappeared. Nobody even bothered to call me. Nobody even remembers me. The fortune vanished, the love remarried. And I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.” She leans forward, reaching for a piece of wood and casts it into the fire.
“I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Just like I was powerless when my brother began his descent into madness... I couldn’t help him. All I could do was watch as the man I knew as my brother slowly languished away to his demon. When the boy I grew up with turned into a beast. I couldn’t do a damn thing.” A short pause and then another ironic chuckle.
“No... I didn’t even try. I was too full of myself. Too high and mighty to step down from my pedestal and offer my helping hand to him. All I did was watch... Watch as he slowly died from within.” She lets out yet another chuckle. This time it’s laden with sadness. A small sobbing sound can be heard. A sound she quickly swallows.
“And now... even he is gone. Consumed by his own madness. I got nobody left. How sad is that?” She is holding a photograph. The photo depicts a Large man with messy hair, standing behind a man and a woman who are holding each other's hands. The woman has a golden belt wrapped around her waist. It is her. She stares at the photo and casts it into the flame. As the flames spark up, their light is reflected off several belts not unlike the one in the photo, framed on the walls. She gazes up at the titles, starting a somber laughter.
“It’s all in the past now. The promotion? Dead. My brother? Dead, probably. My husband? Probably doesn’t even remember me anymore. Engulfed on new projects with a new wife. A new promotion has risen on its ashes. And nobody called me. I was never contacted for a big return. Women whom I’ve faced and beaten have come and gone... yet nobody has even mentioned me... I’ve become a nobody. A has been.” She gets up and walks to the title belts on the wall. She picks up one of them and looks at it. The letters “EWF Women's Champion” glitter in the light. Below it, she reads her name out loud.
“EWF Women’s Champion. “The Queen” Jennifer... Str... Stryf....Stryfe” Her voice chokes up as she reads the last name out loud. With tears flowing down her cheeks she slams the framed title to the ground, shattering its casing. Slumping to her knees, she is openly crying.
“That... that used to be me... I was “The Queen”... I was Jennifer... Stryfe... One of the greatest female talents of European Wrestling Federation... One of the brightest female stars of Elite Wrestling Champions...” With tear-filled eyes she looks up at the bigger of the two titles. The EWC Velocity Championship. She reaches out for it, almost hugging it.
“The Velocity championship... I was SO proud. The first ever Velocity champion... I was on the top of the world... I was... I was happy.” She lets out a shrill shriek and throws the title to the wall, sobbing again.
“I blew it all up. I left. I disappeared. I got too full of myself. I thought I was bigger than them. I thought I was bigger than the promotion. I thought I was too good for them. And here I am... Alone. Forgotten. Maybe my brother got the better deal of us two... At Least he was never... alone...”
She breaks out into a hysterical laughter, crawling back into the chair. She slumps into it, staring at the fire. Tears are flowing down her cheeks as she laughs, the laughter turning into uncontrollable sobbing.
(Alone? Are you sure you are alone Jenny?)
Suddenly she hears a voice. Her sobbing stops like someone pressed a button and she looks around herself, a “deer-in-the-headlights” look on her face. “Who’s there?”
She calls out faintly, fear trickling into her voice.
(Don’t be afraid Jenny. I am not here to hurt you. I’ve been watching you. Listening to you.”)
The voice speaks out again, freaking Jenny out. She scurries to the corner, snatching a sharp piece of glass from the shattered casing on her way and huddles up, holding the shard of glass like a knife in front of her.
“Who are you? Show yourself!” She is terrified. The fireplace is the only light the room has, so she can’t see much.
(You won’t see me no matter how hard you look Jenny. I am nowhere. Yet I am everywhere. I’ve kept quiet for a long time. I’ve endured... I’ve shared your pain. Now I can’t keep my silence anymore. Jenny... you are not alone.)
The words are soft, comforting. They do not help her fear. She is confused, scared. Wildly staring around her she slowly crawls out of the corner, still hanging onto the sharp glass.
“You didn’t answer my question. Who are you?” While she was still scared, her curiosity had been piqued. She wanted to know who it was that spoke to her. She wanted to know who it was that was comforting her.
(I am you. Or rather... I am what you were. You haven’t lost anything Jenny. You’ve merely misplaced them. Your brother... he found his inner strength. He found it after falling from his heights like you did. Unfortunately his inner strength... was twisted by him. What he called the beast within was merely a reflection of his own desires... his own... weakness. He blamed everyone but himself for everything. Everything that happened to him... was his own fault. He became what he is today because he refused to face reality. He preferred to lock himself in a boiler room... than to face the fact that he had nobody to blame but himself. That denial manifested itself as the beast we all saw and heard.)
Jenny had crawled back into the chair, almost mesmerized by the words she was hearing. She still didn’t know exactly who was speaking, but whoever it was... had her full attention.
(Jenny... you are a strong woman. You’ve just allowed others to get under your skin. They haven’t called you because they are afraid. They know that if you return... you will steal their spotlight. You will outshine them... you will out-do them. That is why everybody wants you to be forgotten. They are afraid. Jealous. He hasn’t forgotten you Jenny. He can’t forget you. He didn’t forget you even when he was being manipulated by Aurora. He didn’t forget you. The fans haven’t forgotten Jenny. Only one who has forgotten is you. You’ve allowed yourself to be consumed by your own self-pity. Just like your brother allowed his own weakness to consume him... you have let yourself be consumed. You’ve forgotten... who you are. You aren’t Jennifer Stryfe. You are something else.)
Listening to the voice in her head, she slowly rotates her gaze towards a display stand on the far corner of the room. It hosts a piece of clothing. An attire to be exact. Teal-colored body singlet, a pair of thigh-high boots, and a teal piece of cloth placed so in the rack as to simulate a mouth. A look of revelation runs through her face, her eyes opening wide and a gasp emanating from her lips.
“Queen Machine?”
Her voice is barely a whisper as she mouths those words. Queen Machine. The moniker under which she made her name. The moniker that carried her long before she even met Alexander Stryfe. She gets up, moving towards the display stand as if she was in a trance, her steps slow, wobbly. The voice she hears speaks again, a sense of triumph can be heard in it.
(Yes! You remember Jenny! Look at that attire Jenny. THAT is what you are. Not Jennifer Stryfe. Not the bosses wife. You are more than that. You are more than the sister of Supreme Machine. You are more than just a pretty face with connections. You had forgotten that. You are for real Jenny.)
She reaches out for the display case, opening it and grabbing the piece of cloth. Holding it in her grasp, she begins to tie it around her face. Suddenly the voice hollers out, stopping her mid-move.
(NO! That’s not what I mean Jenny. The Queen Machine... is more than that attire. You don’t NEED that attire Jenny. Your brother hid his face from the world because he was scared of what laid below the barrier he had built around himself. He needed that mask to be able to exist. You don’t need it. Put it down Jenny. Put it down.)
Hesitantly she placed the cloth back into the case and turned around, speaking up. Her voice was monotone, flavorless. She was completely in a world of her own. “I don’t need it. I am not a pretty face in the crowd. I am not the boss's wife. I am not just someone’s sister... I am great as I am...” She slowly walks towards a mirror in the wall, the voice speaking out again, egging her on.
(Yes... You finally realize. Let it all go Jenny. The Fear. The Anxiety. The Sadness... Let it all go... The joy... the kindness... the love. Let it all go. Become what you are... return to what you once were.)
She raises her gaze to look at the mirror. She sees a woman she hasn’t seen in a long time. Despite the messed up hair. Despite the reddened eyes and the mushed up make-up. Despite the ragged clothing. She sees herself. Not as she is now. But as she used to be. Striking. Stunning. Powerful. She sees the strength she had forgotten. A smile spreads to her lips slowly but surely as the voice within her head rings in her ears triumphantly.
(Emotion is Jenny. Let it all go away. Your brother realized that. He realized that emotions such as love... hate... they are a weakness. But he allowed himself to be engulfed by them all the same. He thought he could control fear... control hate. But you are stronger Jenny. You are smarter. He allowed his madness to manifest itself to the outside world. You are better than that Jenny. You can keep it hidden... can you? Can you keep me as our little secret? can you?)
Slowly nodding, Jenny reaches out for the mirror, her fingertips resting on top of her own reflection, her voice no longer monotone, but instead strong. Determined. “I won’t be like him. I won’t be a freak. I’m stronger. I don’t need anyone. I don’t need anything. I am Queen Machine. I am Jenny Rivers.” There was a loud laughter in her head as she said that, the voice within celebrating as she finally understood.
(Yes! Now Jenny... Now that you understand... it’s time... time to go and reclaim what is rightfully yours. Femme Fatale Wrestling. It might not be EWC... but everybody is there. Go and get what is yours. The woman who took your husband is there... she is there... she is the champion... go reclaim what is yours Jenny. Let nobody stop you. Become a force... become more than a mere wrestler. Become a legend. Become something to be feared. Let no-one stand in your way Jenny. Let no-one stop you. Go and reclaim what is rightfully yours.)
With her eyes locked at the mirror she nods, bursting out into a manic laughter, the kind of a creepy giggling that her brother often exhibited. With a deranged look on her face she smashes the mirror and slumps to the floor, still giggling heavily. But from within her head, she hears a loud command.
(NO! Don’t let it take control! Remember what I said! Don’t become like your brother! Don’t let it manifest. Keep it hidden. Keep it secret... Let nobody know what truly brings you strength. Control yourself and you shall control the world.)
She slowly stops laughing and gets up, staring at the shattered remains of the mirror, and as if she had snapped out of a trance, begins to pick up the pieces as if nothing had happened. “Femme Fatale Wrestling... Yeah. I wonder where I got that idea... I must go there. I know I must. Tch... how did the mirror get busted anyway?”
Mumbling to herself as she picks up the pieces, she hears one more line... one more word echoing in her ears.
(Remember…)
She quickly looks around herself, but since she can’t see anything, she merely shrugs and returns to cleaning the mess.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The confrontation(off-cam)
August 19th 2021
08:39pm
Rivers Residence
Reno, Nevada
Emboldened by Ling’s words and remembering the first time the voice spoke to her, Jenny made her way back to her bedroom. It was silly in a way since the house had other mirrors. But something in her wanted to finish this where it started. She opened the door she had closed the previous night and stepped in. “I know you’re in there.” She spoke out loud, addressing Queenie.
In the mirror, her reflection moved, stirring from the bed she had been lying in. The paint-faced femme fatale made her way closer to the mirror and knocked on it. “Took you long enough, I’ve been bored out of my mind here. Lemme guess, you had some encouraging words from a friend and had a trip down memory lane and now you think you have what you need to put lil ol’ me down and out for good” she spoke mockingly, giving the most exaggerated eyeroll you can give.
Jenny didn’t let her mind games get to her. “Thanks for reminding me that you are not real, just a figment of my imagination. I almost forgot that.” She walked up to the mirror and leaned right in, Queenie repeating the gesture with a curious expression.
“So, tell me tell me tell me, don’t keep me in suspense babygirl! Tell me how are you going to get rid of the meanie in your head? Queenie’s voice was filled with almost childish glee, she sounded like a kid on christmas morning.
Just staring at her reflection, Jenny gathered her thoughts. “See, the thing is. Contrary to what you say, I don’t need you. Sure. I’m not in my 20’s anymore, but all that shit I’ve gone through in my life? It has made me stronger than ever before. You are nothing more than a coping mechanism Queenie, and I no longer need you. You are an echo of a past that no longer matters. LevelUp Wrestling doesn’t need Queen Machine. They need Jennifer Rivers. Because for all your fun and games Queenie, you haven’t accomplished diddly squat. Can’t beat Bert McAlroy. Can’t beat Sidroy Covington. Can’t even beat Ragdoll. We’ve done it your way Queenie, and the results speak for themselves. Time to put the paint back into the drawer and show the world what “The Queen” can really do.”
Jenny felt a huge boulder lifting from her shoulders as she point blank told Queenie to fuck off. She stared at her paint-faced reflection, waiting for a reaction. Would it be shock? Would it be acceptance?
It was neither. A chill went through Jenny’s spine when Queenie began laughing again. Like a deer in the headlights, she stared. “Oh Jenny…” The laughter died like it a switch was flipped, and Queenie leaned in, her voice brimming with malice she had never heard before. “For such a bright young woman you really don’t see the obvious… for such an experienced hand at dealing with someone like me… You are so easily duped. I thought I’d let you have this hope spot but now I realize that was just unnecessarily mean. See, the thing is.. I’m here to stay. You can’t get rid of me no matter how hard you try.”
(Stop torturing her, please…)
Joy sparked in Jenny when she realized that the voice spoke again, her companion was back. But before she could respond, it’s words puzzled her and in a terrifying realization she understood. It was speaking to Queenie, not her. And the trickster noticed her reaction, winking mischievously. “Now do you get it Jenny? Jiminy was never gone. He just moved residences.”
How? How was the companion speaking to Queenie and not her? That was the thought running in Jennys head. She didn’t understand. Didn’t want to understand. And Queenie knew this.
“You’re so close to getting it sweetie. But lets switch gears for a moment. See, earlier you alluded to how you are not Tom and I am not the beast. Well, you are 100% correct in that! I am not a sadistic animal who takes joy in your suffering. That’s why I am not going to make you watch helplessly as I do whatever I want to do. No… You’re just going to fall asleep and wake up somewhere down the line, with success and glory being heaped to your name.” Queenie spoke in an uncharacteristically calm manner, almost as if a mother speaking to a child. Atleast until she turned around and started heading to the door of the room. “But now Jenny darling, Queenie’s got business to take care. Toodeloo!”
Jenny watched as Queenie walked out of the room and suddenly felt drowsy. She moved to the bed and laid down, thinking to herself how she would finish this tomorrow. Just before sleep overtake her though,a single thought finally broke through.
Wait. Queenie left and she felt tired?
…
QUEENIE WASN’T IN THE MIRROR….
SHE WAS.
With panic setting in, she tried to scream, but before any noise came out, the darkness overtook her.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Queen of the Warrior Castle of Takeshis Ninjas (oncam)[/u][/b]
We open up to show Queenie in a surprisingly mundane setting, seated on what seems to be the back porch of her house. She is wistfully gazing into the distance.
“Well dangit. For 3 straight shows Ragdoll somehow managed to slither away from my grasp. From Siddy taking the fall at EXP10, to Raab catching me by surprise at EXP11 to the Faction rescuing her useless ass just 2 weeks ago, she’s become quite a karma houdini. But not anymore, Puddin’s here! And with Matthew entering the scene, lil ol’ me ain’t needed anymore. Because once you fuck with his family, then there is no escape for you.
But let's be honest. She did kinda succeed in her mission, to get me off Siddy’s case and out of the Wisdom title picture. And with a heavy heart I am willing to part with any claim for Goldie. For now. Because I don’t see Siddy walking out the winner against Raaby. Anyway. Since Goldie is out of my grasp, I guess I’ll just have to settle for her sister, the youngest of the three siblings that make th Tri Force. The Courage Championship. And oh looky, I’m booked in a match for it at Devil May Cry.”
She throws a sideways glance to the camera and smirks, tapping her chin.
“Devil May Cry… funny, I thought the devil already cried after Combat Evolved, took his ball and went back home to Reno. But I digress. I heard he isn’t even the black devil anymore. Anyway. Yeah. The Platformer! The craziest matchtype cooked up in the brain of whoever the Developer is. Or maybe this is a Mr. Rad creation, putting on an obstacle course so he can watch us fleshy things scurry like rats in a maze? Or who knows, maybe a WaLuigi cooked it up? Bottom line is, it’s a big fucking obstacle course that’ll put Ninja Warrior and Takeshis Castle to shame and at the end of it dangles the Courage title. Or Lil’ Goldie as I’ve already dubbed her!
Now, of course I’m not alone in the match. Far from it. It’s a veritable who’s who of LevelUps midcard! From Old attractions like Larry Tact (pun intended) to fresh meat like the Delivery Girl or Amber Payne. I mean… I’ve already beat Tact. I’ve already beat Goode. Crawford can’t buy a win to save her life. Diamond Steele surprised everyone by beating Raaby last EXP. And I can’t say much for the new blood except “How do you do, ready to get pwnd?”. But there is one name that sticks out. One name that along with mine must be considered an odds on favorite to win. One Half of the Multiplayer champions, my tag team partner from last EXP… Ahmya.”
Queenie bounces up to her feet and with one hop grabs onto the ledge of the roof, flipping herself onto it in a fluid motion.
“Ahmya, darling… you are great. Even if you could do better than Berty, you’ve been the best thing to happen to him in his life. And I’m gonna hate having to fight you because I know you got your hands full and your mind elsewhere with this Ragdoll stuff, not to mention all the other shit that’s going around in your general vicinity. Ahmya sweetie, maybe you should just stay home for the night? Take care of Bertie and let A) Puddin deal with the Harlequin Harlot and B) Let me take care of Lil’Goldie. That way you’ll be in full strength when Bertie returns and its time to defend those gloves again!
I mean sure, the draw of gold is great in everyone, but seriously Ahmya, don’t be like Puddin, don’t throw caution to the win in desperate search for a shiny. But if you do decide to show up, which I ultimately can’t blame you for… be prepared to get smoked by Auntie Jenny. Ain’t nobody getting between me and Lil’Goldie, friend, foe, family or otherwise.”
She lays back on the roof, stretching like a cat.
“Devil May Cry is a card stacked with matches that will remain in memory for a long time. But the Platformer will tower over all of them. It will be exhausting. It will dangerous. It will push me and the other in the match to our absolute limit. But in the end… I’ll be the one standing at the top with my head held high, cuddling the adorable lil’Goldie. I’m gonna leave Vegas and drive home as not just a winner, but a champion. That my dear naughties..: I guarantee you. But until then… Toodeloo!”
Queenie rolls off the roof and before the drone can catch up to her, disappears into the building as the view fades to black.
August 19th 2021
02:15am
Rivers Residence
Reno, Nevada
A burning fire heating the air around her. She tries to move, but her body doesn’t respond to her commands. She can only stare as the flames creep closer and closer to her. She tries to scream, but no voice comes out. Suddenly she sees her hands stretch outwards, but she didn’t move them. She watches in disbelief as her hands just hang there, outstretched as if warming up next to a fireplace. A large, violent flame flashes past her head. She can smell the singed hair on her face.
And then… giggling. Manic, shrill giggling.
Jenny bolted upright on her bed, sweating profusely. She looked around, trying to get her bearings. She was home. It was night.
A dream?
Her hand shoots to her face and she can feel part of her eyebrows missing. It wasn’t a dream. The smell of smoke permeates the room and she locates it to a pile of clothes thrown in the corner.
What had happened? Was she in a fire?
She closed her eyes, trying to remember. Trying to calm herself down. Then another realization struck and she felt a chill go down her spine.
The voice. It wasn’t there. No matter how much she called out to it, there was no response. What had happened? Flickers of memory. She remembers charging into the basement to confront her brother after he walked out on her at EXP11. And then… nothing. No, flickers. Faint traces of memory. Flashes. Raab putting her down. A hospital. Bert and his eyepatch. A building, an explosion… Ragdoll helpless, choking between her legs. And… the fire.
“She’s getting more and more powerful”
Her eyes snapped back open and she looked into the corner. SuMa stood there. Silently observing. “Wh… what do you mean?” she croaks. Her voice was weak, her throat felt drier than the Nevada desert around them.
“Queenie. She’s had control for weeks.” SuMa spoke in a low voice. No emotion. Just stating the fact.
Jenny blinked in disbelief. “Weeks?”
The massive man merely nodded in response.
“How? Why?” Disbelief spread through Jenny’s body. She wasn’t like Tom, Queenie was nothing more than an aspect of her. Not a full blown personality like the beast.
“We don’t know. We don’t care.” SuMa responded nonchalantly and began to leave the room. He yanked the door open, but stopped. After a short pause he spoke again, a warm tinge to his usually cold voice. It was Tom, pushing through. “Be careful Jenny… or you’ll end up like me.”
With that, SuMa left the bedroom, leaving Jenny alone. She gripped her duvet tightly, trying to fight the panic that was spreading on her body. “Where are you…” she muttered quietly, addressing the voice that had been her companion for so long. Of all the things, it’s absence was terrifying to her.
“Please… talk to me…” she said again, desperation creeping into her voice.
“Jiminy ain’t here sweetie, I told him to bugger off and after I punched myself in the head enough, he skedaddled!” A shrill voice broke the silence, causing Jenny to freeze. She scanned the room once more, her eyes stopping at the large mirror on her vanity table. The sight there made her blood boil.
The reflection of Queenie was smiling at her, lounging on the bed without a care in the world. Jenny got up and stared down her reflection, seething fire replacing her confusion and fear. “You.”
Blowing a kiss to Jenny, Queenie hopped up and threw her arms to the sides, as if presenting herself. “ME!”
Staring at her twisted reflection, the fire in Jenny began to smolder. She spoke with a voice brimming with venom. “You got a lot of nerve… showing up after the trick you pulled.”
The paint-faced femme fatale gave a cheeky grin and shrugged. “What can I say Jenny-darling, I got really, really bored in here and since Jiminy isn’t around, I figured I’d give you someone to talk to. After all, when it comes to crazy people, it’s not the voices talking in their head that is worrying… it’s when they stop!”
Fighting the urge to just turn around and walk out, Jenny stared down the trickster. She needed answers. “How did you do that? You are nothing more than a reflection. A Mask I put on when I need to do things I otherwise couldn’t. YOU’RE. NOT. REAL!”
She wasn’t shouting, but the tone of her voice served the same effect. Queenie wasn’t phased at all though, simply tapping her chin in a playful manner. “See, that’s where you are wrong dear. I am very much real. As much as you are real. You really thought you could just put on a fresh coat of paint, pretend to be something you’re not and then just forget about it when you take the paint off? Tut tut Jenny, you should know better. See, while it might have started that way… But whats the one thing you should have learned from the big guy eh? Don’t feed the beast” she finished with a chuckle and blew a kiss to Jenny.
The implication struck Jenny like a runaway train. She felt a shudder go through her, but fought hard to suppress it, managing to keep her composure. “I am not like Tom. YOU are NOT like SuMa. The beast is just a corruption of the voice.” She paused, mulling it over. “But if that is what it takes to get rid of you… Then I’ll stop relying on you. I can easily slip back to wrestling as just myself. No need for “Queenie”” The last word was filled to the brim with vitriol.
But to her surprise all it did was cause Queenie to burst out into a fit of laughter. She doubled over, cuddling her mid-section trying to quell it. An act that merely served to piss Jenny off even more. “What are you laughing about, you damn troll? You’re gonna be stuck in my head for the rest of eternity.”
Queenie started to swallow the laughter, wiping away a tear of joy from the corner of her eye as she does. When she finally got it under control, she glanced up with an almost compassionate look. “Jenny. Darling. You just don’t get it do you? You’re not 21 anymore. You can’t just dig out the old teal singlet and cloth mask and pretend to be the Queen Machine of old. You can’t even do the things you did as “The Queen” Jennifer Stryfe, since you don’t have the backstage pull or the prestige. Jennifer Rivers is of no consequence in this business, outside maybe as the big guys wrangler. Jenny dear… if you want to do all these things you’ve done, if you want to remain relevant in this business… You… NEED… ME!”
The last few words were delivered with an almost creepy emphasis, a voice barely above a whisper. Staring down her alter ego Jenny felt determination brimming through her. She took a step back, turned around and headed for the door, quipping over her shoulder in a nonchalant manner. “It’s better to be forgotten than to become like HIM” And with that she grabbed her clothes, stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her.
Jenny immediately leant against a wall, slumping all the way to the ground. With shaky hands she pulled her phone from the pockets of her jacket and typed out a simple message. “We need to talk. I need help”. Her finger hovered over the send-button as she replayed the events on her head, until she mustered the willpower and pressed it. As she waited for a response, it felt like minutes turned into hours until her phone lit up and the screen read “Tomorrow. - Ling”
She let out a sigh of relief and closed her eyes. She needed to tell someone. Talk to someone. And Ling was the closest thing she had to a real friend. The exhaustion hit her on that moment and despite being slumped on the floor, curled against a wall, sleep overcame her.
What she didn’t know was that when she left the room, Queenie didn’t vanish. Instead she hopped back into the bed and stretched like a cat. “I love it when a plan comes together… right Jiminy?”
(... You monster)
A wide smile spread on Queenie's lips and she giggled herself to sleep.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
August 19th 2021
11:48am
Rivers Residence
Reno, Nevada.
Jenny had a restless night after the encounter with Queenie. She hadn’t wanted to go back to her bedroom, and for her own peace of mind had covered the big mirror in the living room. Having slept on the ground, hunched against wall had left its marks as she was sore and looked like shit. Having woken up at 8am she had just sat on the couch, staring into nothingness, her brain desperately trying to piece together the events of the past few weeks. No matter how hard she tried, all she could get were flashes of memories, feelings, sensations, but nothing tangible. That was where her head was at when the doorbell rang.
“It’s open” she hollered, not even turning her head. The door opened and in stepped Xiao Ling Mei, the asian businesswoman Jenny had befriended over a decade ago along with Adam Mitchell. Ling walked in and took one look at Jenny before sitting down next to her.
“You look like shit. Whats going on. He acting up?” the last question was followed by a small nod towards the basement door. Jenny looked up to Ling, the dark rings around her eyes making her look like she was in her facepaint, and tried to offer a small, weak smile as she shook her head.
“No… not him. This… this is worse” She muttered under her breath. It was hard to talk about. If she spoke, Ling would become the second outsider ever to hear about her condition. And the first, Matt Knox, was family. “I… I’m losing it Ling.” she continued, her head hanging.
As per their last encounter, Ling had figured out to a point that Jenny had an issue similar to her brother, but she didn’t know details nor had she ever pressed for them. Having lived so long with Mitchell, who had more skeletons in his closet than your average graveyard, she knew very well that some things are better left buried. But the way Jenny looked and acted was not normal. This was not the headstrong, determined and intelligent woman she had grown to know and appreciate. What she was looking at was a mess of a person, barely holding on. “Talk to me Jenny. Whats going on?”
Ling had extended her arm and placed it around Jennys shoulder, suppressing a gasp of surprise as the lithe woman pressed herself into the embrace. Her worry only intensified. This was so out of character for Jenny. “C’mon Jenny… talk to me”
“I’m losing control…” Jenny mumbled into Ling’s side, her body shuddering. “I woke up last night… No memory for the last few weeks… Yet I’ve clearly been out and about…even appeared on two shows…” She said, still having an internal struggle on whether to tell the full truth.
She didn’t need to. “Queenie?” the question rose from the asian woman. Ling had pieced together enough of the puzzle. SuMa’s condition. The contrast to she saw when she watched LevelUp’s programming and what she knew of Jennifer.
A weak nod came from Jenny. “She… She took over. And I didn’t even realize it. She spent weeks going around doing god knows what. And when I woke up last night… She taunted me. I’m not like Tom, I’ve never been able to talk to Queenie. I only talk to the voice… my companion. But now it’s silent.”
Ling furrowed her brow. She thought she had the puzzle solved but the addition of this “companion” Jenny spoke of confused her. “Companion? So… Queenie isn’t like the beast is for Tom?”
“No… shouldn’t be. She’s just an act you know, a character I played for LevelUp. The paint, the clothes, the mannerisms. The companion told me it wasn’t wise to do that and I didn’t listen…” Jenny finally extracted herself from Ling’s embrace and got up, walking to the mirror she’d covered, pointing at it. “I know this looks silly, but she manifests in my reflection. I’ve realized it’s just my mind's way of rationalizing the split. But still… after last night, I couldn’t bear the thought of looking in a mirror…” The lithe woman sighed.
Ling stood up and walked to Jenny, pulling her back to the couch and sitting her down. “Let’s start with the obvious Jenny, You are not Tom. You are stronger mentally than he was. Whatever this “Queenie” is, it’s nothing you can’t beat. You’ve gone through hell and back in your life. From seeing Tom’s devolution to what he is, to the disaster of a marriage with Alex, to the battle with Kitty and the coma that followed. You’ve survived it all and been stronger for it. You really think that some reflection of you that doesn’t exist can supercede you?” She smiled at Jenny. “You’re Jennifer Fucking Rivers. You weren’t called “The Queen” just because of your husband. You WERE the Queen of the division. You don’t need to pretend to be some damn anarchist trickster to succeed.”
Slowly, but surely a smile rose to Jenny’s lips, Ling’s reassuring words giving her a sense of hope. “Thank you Ling… I needed that.”
Ling smiled and gave an affectionate pet to her cheek. “Anytime darling. Compared to the baggage Adam has, yours are light to deal with. Remember Jenny, I’m just a phonecall away.”
Jenny nodded and the two changed subjects, chatting away until Ling got up and left.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
August 19th. 2021
05:12pm
Rivers Residence
Reno, Nevada.
After Ling had left, Jenny had found herself roaming the house aimlessly, avoiding mirrors, not stopping to think about anything. She knew she needed to face Queenie sooner than later, but she didn’t feel ready. She sat down, feeling so lonely due to the voice’s absence. It had remained silent for so long after the coma, but ever since it spoke again, she had never quite realized just how much having a constant companion like it meant to her. They had both changed from the first time she remembers it showing itself, but it had always had her best interests in mind. She glanced over to her trophy case, and found herself thinking back to the night 10 years ago that the voice first spoke to her. A night when she was more alone than she had ever been, more desperate than she had ever been… a night not unlike tonight.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Inner Voices(off-cam)
September 30th 2011
11:32pm
Rivers Manor
Los Angeles, California
A small house on the outskirts of Los Angeles, California. Your typical Suburbs house. Two floors, slanted roof, garage, yard and a fence. Basking in the pale moonlight that shines from above. A single light flickers from the window at the side. The window to the living room. A small fire has been lit into the fireplace, dying flames devouring wood at a diminishing pace. In Front of the fireplace is a large recliner. Almost a throne-like chair. Upon it a female figure is slumped, staring at the fire. A voice speaks out. Weak, tired. Addressing nobody. Just... speaking.
“I had it all. I had all a girl can dream of. A loving husband. A successful career with a bright future ahead of me. I had fame. I had fortune. What good did it do to me?” She lets out a chuckle. But that chuckle has no joy in it. It is the ironic laugh of a defeated woman.
“I lost it all. The fame disappeared. Nobody even bothered to call me. Nobody even remembers me. The fortune vanished, the love remarried. And I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.” She leans forward, reaching for a piece of wood and casts it into the fire.
“I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Just like I was powerless when my brother began his descent into madness... I couldn’t help him. All I could do was watch as the man I knew as my brother slowly languished away to his demon. When the boy I grew up with turned into a beast. I couldn’t do a damn thing.” A short pause and then another ironic chuckle.
“No... I didn’t even try. I was too full of myself. Too high and mighty to step down from my pedestal and offer my helping hand to him. All I did was watch... Watch as he slowly died from within.” She lets out yet another chuckle. This time it’s laden with sadness. A small sobbing sound can be heard. A sound she quickly swallows.
“And now... even he is gone. Consumed by his own madness. I got nobody left. How sad is that?” She is holding a photograph. The photo depicts a Large man with messy hair, standing behind a man and a woman who are holding each other's hands. The woman has a golden belt wrapped around her waist. It is her. She stares at the photo and casts it into the flame. As the flames spark up, their light is reflected off several belts not unlike the one in the photo, framed on the walls. She gazes up at the titles, starting a somber laughter.
“It’s all in the past now. The promotion? Dead. My brother? Dead, probably. My husband? Probably doesn’t even remember me anymore. Engulfed on new projects with a new wife. A new promotion has risen on its ashes. And nobody called me. I was never contacted for a big return. Women whom I’ve faced and beaten have come and gone... yet nobody has even mentioned me... I’ve become a nobody. A has been.” She gets up and walks to the title belts on the wall. She picks up one of them and looks at it. The letters “EWF Women's Champion” glitter in the light. Below it, she reads her name out loud.
“EWF Women’s Champion. “The Queen” Jennifer... Str... Stryf....Stryfe” Her voice chokes up as she reads the last name out loud. With tears flowing down her cheeks she slams the framed title to the ground, shattering its casing. Slumping to her knees, she is openly crying.
“That... that used to be me... I was “The Queen”... I was Jennifer... Stryfe... One of the greatest female talents of European Wrestling Federation... One of the brightest female stars of Elite Wrestling Champions...” With tear-filled eyes she looks up at the bigger of the two titles. The EWC Velocity Championship. She reaches out for it, almost hugging it.
“The Velocity championship... I was SO proud. The first ever Velocity champion... I was on the top of the world... I was... I was happy.” She lets out a shrill shriek and throws the title to the wall, sobbing again.
“I blew it all up. I left. I disappeared. I got too full of myself. I thought I was bigger than them. I thought I was bigger than the promotion. I thought I was too good for them. And here I am... Alone. Forgotten. Maybe my brother got the better deal of us two... At Least he was never... alone...”
She breaks out into a hysterical laughter, crawling back into the chair. She slumps into it, staring at the fire. Tears are flowing down her cheeks as she laughs, the laughter turning into uncontrollable sobbing.
(Alone? Are you sure you are alone Jenny?)
Suddenly she hears a voice. Her sobbing stops like someone pressed a button and she looks around herself, a “deer-in-the-headlights” look on her face. “Who’s there?”
She calls out faintly, fear trickling into her voice.
(Don’t be afraid Jenny. I am not here to hurt you. I’ve been watching you. Listening to you.”)
The voice speaks out again, freaking Jenny out. She scurries to the corner, snatching a sharp piece of glass from the shattered casing on her way and huddles up, holding the shard of glass like a knife in front of her.
“Who are you? Show yourself!” She is terrified. The fireplace is the only light the room has, so she can’t see much.
(You won’t see me no matter how hard you look Jenny. I am nowhere. Yet I am everywhere. I’ve kept quiet for a long time. I’ve endured... I’ve shared your pain. Now I can’t keep my silence anymore. Jenny... you are not alone.)
The words are soft, comforting. They do not help her fear. She is confused, scared. Wildly staring around her she slowly crawls out of the corner, still hanging onto the sharp glass.
“You didn’t answer my question. Who are you?” While she was still scared, her curiosity had been piqued. She wanted to know who it was that spoke to her. She wanted to know who it was that was comforting her.
(I am you. Or rather... I am what you were. You haven’t lost anything Jenny. You’ve merely misplaced them. Your brother... he found his inner strength. He found it after falling from his heights like you did. Unfortunately his inner strength... was twisted by him. What he called the beast within was merely a reflection of his own desires... his own... weakness. He blamed everyone but himself for everything. Everything that happened to him... was his own fault. He became what he is today because he refused to face reality. He preferred to lock himself in a boiler room... than to face the fact that he had nobody to blame but himself. That denial manifested itself as the beast we all saw and heard.)
Jenny had crawled back into the chair, almost mesmerized by the words she was hearing. She still didn’t know exactly who was speaking, but whoever it was... had her full attention.
(Jenny... you are a strong woman. You’ve just allowed others to get under your skin. They haven’t called you because they are afraid. They know that if you return... you will steal their spotlight. You will outshine them... you will out-do them. That is why everybody wants you to be forgotten. They are afraid. Jealous. He hasn’t forgotten you Jenny. He can’t forget you. He didn’t forget you even when he was being manipulated by Aurora. He didn’t forget you. The fans haven’t forgotten Jenny. Only one who has forgotten is you. You’ve allowed yourself to be consumed by your own self-pity. Just like your brother allowed his own weakness to consume him... you have let yourself be consumed. You’ve forgotten... who you are. You aren’t Jennifer Stryfe. You are something else.)
Listening to the voice in her head, she slowly rotates her gaze towards a display stand on the far corner of the room. It hosts a piece of clothing. An attire to be exact. Teal-colored body singlet, a pair of thigh-high boots, and a teal piece of cloth placed so in the rack as to simulate a mouth. A look of revelation runs through her face, her eyes opening wide and a gasp emanating from her lips.
“Queen Machine?”
Her voice is barely a whisper as she mouths those words. Queen Machine. The moniker under which she made her name. The moniker that carried her long before she even met Alexander Stryfe. She gets up, moving towards the display stand as if she was in a trance, her steps slow, wobbly. The voice she hears speaks again, a sense of triumph can be heard in it.
(Yes! You remember Jenny! Look at that attire Jenny. THAT is what you are. Not Jennifer Stryfe. Not the bosses wife. You are more than that. You are more than the sister of Supreme Machine. You are more than just a pretty face with connections. You had forgotten that. You are for real Jenny.)
She reaches out for the display case, opening it and grabbing the piece of cloth. Holding it in her grasp, she begins to tie it around her face. Suddenly the voice hollers out, stopping her mid-move.
(NO! That’s not what I mean Jenny. The Queen Machine... is more than that attire. You don’t NEED that attire Jenny. Your brother hid his face from the world because he was scared of what laid below the barrier he had built around himself. He needed that mask to be able to exist. You don’t need it. Put it down Jenny. Put it down.)
Hesitantly she placed the cloth back into the case and turned around, speaking up. Her voice was monotone, flavorless. She was completely in a world of her own. “I don’t need it. I am not a pretty face in the crowd. I am not the boss's wife. I am not just someone’s sister... I am great as I am...” She slowly walks towards a mirror in the wall, the voice speaking out again, egging her on.
(Yes... You finally realize. Let it all go Jenny. The Fear. The Anxiety. The Sadness... Let it all go... The joy... the kindness... the love. Let it all go. Become what you are... return to what you once were.)
She raises her gaze to look at the mirror. She sees a woman she hasn’t seen in a long time. Despite the messed up hair. Despite the reddened eyes and the mushed up make-up. Despite the ragged clothing. She sees herself. Not as she is now. But as she used to be. Striking. Stunning. Powerful. She sees the strength she had forgotten. A smile spreads to her lips slowly but surely as the voice within her head rings in her ears triumphantly.
(Emotion is Jenny. Let it all go away. Your brother realized that. He realized that emotions such as love... hate... they are a weakness. But he allowed himself to be engulfed by them all the same. He thought he could control fear... control hate. But you are stronger Jenny. You are smarter. He allowed his madness to manifest itself to the outside world. You are better than that Jenny. You can keep it hidden... can you? Can you keep me as our little secret? can you?)
Slowly nodding, Jenny reaches out for the mirror, her fingertips resting on top of her own reflection, her voice no longer monotone, but instead strong. Determined. “I won’t be like him. I won’t be a freak. I’m stronger. I don’t need anyone. I don’t need anything. I am Queen Machine. I am Jenny Rivers.” There was a loud laughter in her head as she said that, the voice within celebrating as she finally understood.
(Yes! Now Jenny... Now that you understand... it’s time... time to go and reclaim what is rightfully yours. Femme Fatale Wrestling. It might not be EWC... but everybody is there. Go and get what is yours. The woman who took your husband is there... she is there... she is the champion... go reclaim what is yours Jenny. Let nobody stop you. Become a force... become more than a mere wrestler. Become a legend. Become something to be feared. Let no-one stand in your way Jenny. Let no-one stop you. Go and reclaim what is rightfully yours.)
With her eyes locked at the mirror she nods, bursting out into a manic laughter, the kind of a creepy giggling that her brother often exhibited. With a deranged look on her face she smashes the mirror and slumps to the floor, still giggling heavily. But from within her head, she hears a loud command.
(NO! Don’t let it take control! Remember what I said! Don’t become like your brother! Don’t let it manifest. Keep it hidden. Keep it secret... Let nobody know what truly brings you strength. Control yourself and you shall control the world.)
She slowly stops laughing and gets up, staring at the shattered remains of the mirror, and as if she had snapped out of a trance, begins to pick up the pieces as if nothing had happened. “Femme Fatale Wrestling... Yeah. I wonder where I got that idea... I must go there. I know I must. Tch... how did the mirror get busted anyway?”
Mumbling to herself as she picks up the pieces, she hears one more line... one more word echoing in her ears.
(Remember…)
She quickly looks around herself, but since she can’t see anything, she merely shrugs and returns to cleaning the mess.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The confrontation(off-cam)
August 19th 2021
08:39pm
Rivers Residence
Reno, Nevada
Emboldened by Ling’s words and remembering the first time the voice spoke to her, Jenny made her way back to her bedroom. It was silly in a way since the house had other mirrors. But something in her wanted to finish this where it started. She opened the door she had closed the previous night and stepped in. “I know you’re in there.” She spoke out loud, addressing Queenie.
In the mirror, her reflection moved, stirring from the bed she had been lying in. The paint-faced femme fatale made her way closer to the mirror and knocked on it. “Took you long enough, I’ve been bored out of my mind here. Lemme guess, you had some encouraging words from a friend and had a trip down memory lane and now you think you have what you need to put lil ol’ me down and out for good” she spoke mockingly, giving the most exaggerated eyeroll you can give.
Jenny didn’t let her mind games get to her. “Thanks for reminding me that you are not real, just a figment of my imagination. I almost forgot that.” She walked up to the mirror and leaned right in, Queenie repeating the gesture with a curious expression.
“So, tell me tell me tell me, don’t keep me in suspense babygirl! Tell me how are you going to get rid of the meanie in your head? Queenie’s voice was filled with almost childish glee, she sounded like a kid on christmas morning.
Just staring at her reflection, Jenny gathered her thoughts. “See, the thing is. Contrary to what you say, I don’t need you. Sure. I’m not in my 20’s anymore, but all that shit I’ve gone through in my life? It has made me stronger than ever before. You are nothing more than a coping mechanism Queenie, and I no longer need you. You are an echo of a past that no longer matters. LevelUp Wrestling doesn’t need Queen Machine. They need Jennifer Rivers. Because for all your fun and games Queenie, you haven’t accomplished diddly squat. Can’t beat Bert McAlroy. Can’t beat Sidroy Covington. Can’t even beat Ragdoll. We’ve done it your way Queenie, and the results speak for themselves. Time to put the paint back into the drawer and show the world what “The Queen” can really do.”
Jenny felt a huge boulder lifting from her shoulders as she point blank told Queenie to fuck off. She stared at her paint-faced reflection, waiting for a reaction. Would it be shock? Would it be acceptance?
It was neither. A chill went through Jenny’s spine when Queenie began laughing again. Like a deer in the headlights, she stared. “Oh Jenny…” The laughter died like it a switch was flipped, and Queenie leaned in, her voice brimming with malice she had never heard before. “For such a bright young woman you really don’t see the obvious… for such an experienced hand at dealing with someone like me… You are so easily duped. I thought I’d let you have this hope spot but now I realize that was just unnecessarily mean. See, the thing is.. I’m here to stay. You can’t get rid of me no matter how hard you try.”
(Stop torturing her, please…)
Joy sparked in Jenny when she realized that the voice spoke again, her companion was back. But before she could respond, it’s words puzzled her and in a terrifying realization she understood. It was speaking to Queenie, not her. And the trickster noticed her reaction, winking mischievously. “Now do you get it Jenny? Jiminy was never gone. He just moved residences.”
How? How was the companion speaking to Queenie and not her? That was the thought running in Jennys head. She didn’t understand. Didn’t want to understand. And Queenie knew this.
“You’re so close to getting it sweetie. But lets switch gears for a moment. See, earlier you alluded to how you are not Tom and I am not the beast. Well, you are 100% correct in that! I am not a sadistic animal who takes joy in your suffering. That’s why I am not going to make you watch helplessly as I do whatever I want to do. No… You’re just going to fall asleep and wake up somewhere down the line, with success and glory being heaped to your name.” Queenie spoke in an uncharacteristically calm manner, almost as if a mother speaking to a child. Atleast until she turned around and started heading to the door of the room. “But now Jenny darling, Queenie’s got business to take care. Toodeloo!”
Jenny watched as Queenie walked out of the room and suddenly felt drowsy. She moved to the bed and laid down, thinking to herself how she would finish this tomorrow. Just before sleep overtake her though,a single thought finally broke through.
Wait. Queenie left and she felt tired?
…
QUEENIE WASN’T IN THE MIRROR….
SHE WAS.
With panic setting in, she tried to scream, but before any noise came out, the darkness overtook her.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Queen of the Warrior Castle of Takeshis Ninjas (oncam)[/u][/b]
We open up to show Queenie in a surprisingly mundane setting, seated on what seems to be the back porch of her house. She is wistfully gazing into the distance.
“Well dangit. For 3 straight shows Ragdoll somehow managed to slither away from my grasp. From Siddy taking the fall at EXP10, to Raab catching me by surprise at EXP11 to the Faction rescuing her useless ass just 2 weeks ago, she’s become quite a karma houdini. But not anymore, Puddin’s here! And with Matthew entering the scene, lil ol’ me ain’t needed anymore. Because once you fuck with his family, then there is no escape for you.
But let's be honest. She did kinda succeed in her mission, to get me off Siddy’s case and out of the Wisdom title picture. And with a heavy heart I am willing to part with any claim for Goldie. For now. Because I don’t see Siddy walking out the winner against Raaby. Anyway. Since Goldie is out of my grasp, I guess I’ll just have to settle for her sister, the youngest of the three siblings that make th Tri Force. The Courage Championship. And oh looky, I’m booked in a match for it at Devil May Cry.”
She throws a sideways glance to the camera and smirks, tapping her chin.
“Devil May Cry… funny, I thought the devil already cried after Combat Evolved, took his ball and went back home to Reno. But I digress. I heard he isn’t even the black devil anymore. Anyway. Yeah. The Platformer! The craziest matchtype cooked up in the brain of whoever the Developer is. Or maybe this is a Mr. Rad creation, putting on an obstacle course so he can watch us fleshy things scurry like rats in a maze? Or who knows, maybe a WaLuigi cooked it up? Bottom line is, it’s a big fucking obstacle course that’ll put Ninja Warrior and Takeshis Castle to shame and at the end of it dangles the Courage title. Or Lil’ Goldie as I’ve already dubbed her!
Now, of course I’m not alone in the match. Far from it. It’s a veritable who’s who of LevelUps midcard! From Old attractions like Larry Tact (pun intended) to fresh meat like the Delivery Girl or Amber Payne. I mean… I’ve already beat Tact. I’ve already beat Goode. Crawford can’t buy a win to save her life. Diamond Steele surprised everyone by beating Raaby last EXP. And I can’t say much for the new blood except “How do you do, ready to get pwnd?”. But there is one name that sticks out. One name that along with mine must be considered an odds on favorite to win. One Half of the Multiplayer champions, my tag team partner from last EXP… Ahmya.”
Queenie bounces up to her feet and with one hop grabs onto the ledge of the roof, flipping herself onto it in a fluid motion.
“Ahmya, darling… you are great. Even if you could do better than Berty, you’ve been the best thing to happen to him in his life. And I’m gonna hate having to fight you because I know you got your hands full and your mind elsewhere with this Ragdoll stuff, not to mention all the other shit that’s going around in your general vicinity. Ahmya sweetie, maybe you should just stay home for the night? Take care of Bertie and let A) Puddin deal with the Harlequin Harlot and B) Let me take care of Lil’Goldie. That way you’ll be in full strength when Bertie returns and its time to defend those gloves again!
I mean sure, the draw of gold is great in everyone, but seriously Ahmya, don’t be like Puddin, don’t throw caution to the win in desperate search for a shiny. But if you do decide to show up, which I ultimately can’t blame you for… be prepared to get smoked by Auntie Jenny. Ain’t nobody getting between me and Lil’Goldie, friend, foe, family or otherwise.”
She lays back on the roof, stretching like a cat.
“Devil May Cry is a card stacked with matches that will remain in memory for a long time. But the Platformer will tower over all of them. It will be exhausting. It will dangerous. It will push me and the other in the match to our absolute limit. But in the end… I’ll be the one standing at the top with my head held high, cuddling the adorable lil’Goldie. I’m gonna leave Vegas and drive home as not just a winner, but a champion. That my dear naughties..: I guarantee you. But until then… Toodeloo!”
Queenie rolls off the roof and before the drone can catch up to her, disappears into the building as the view fades to black.
