Post by Nausicaä Suzuki on Nov 22, 2019 22:48:16 GMT -5
"don't you see?" I'll never be just a memory |
A single light turns on, revealing a murky looking circle with a small circular table in the middle. On the table is a papier-mâché trophy with a couple cardboard stars on the side of it, as if a copy of the Shooting Stars Cup but made by a child, as emerging from the shadows around our murky circle - standing behind the trophy with hungry eyes - is the browny blonde haired woman known as Bellatrix Taylor. “You know The Tyrant want you, it’s not a secret The Tyrant tries to hide… The Tyrant know you want me, so don’t keep saying our hands are tied… You claim it’s not in the cards… But fate is pulling you to Dread Wolf… And out of reach from me…” The last word trails from her lips as she violently steps back, as if something unseen yanked her back into the pitch back, only to come out from the far left of our vision. Her eyes not once leaving the papier-mâché item as one hand reaches for the cup, though not able to reach, while the other clutches her chest. “But you’re here in my heart… So who can stop me if I decide that you’re my destiny… What if we rewrite the stars… Say you were made to be mine, nothing could keep us apart… You’d be the one I was mean to win… It’s up to you, it’s up to me, no one can say what we get to be… So why don’t we rewrite the stars and the world will be ours this Sunday…” Like an unseen force throwing her Bellatrix flies backwards out of our view…only to fall into view from the opposite side, face first into the hard ground. Her hands slowly clutch onto one of the table legs and slowly pulls herself up to a kneeling position, revealing some blood trickling down the right edge of her lips as her eyes seem transfixed upon the trophy. “What about the big bad Dread Wolf? What about him? He claims to be a Feral Messiah and has proven his worth in defeating a big mouthed Superhero Supernova…but The Tyrant is not some loudmouth, a perpetual one or some flash in the pan. The Tyrant is the one who took The White Star out the sky, strapped her down and stripped her of all the things that made her shine. The Tyrant is the one who took an AWF alumni out of self-believing decorum, tore it down and left him a shattered mess. And The Tyrant is the one who will destroy this promised delivery, eliminate the feral like a godforsaken purge and take you home with me. For together…” Slowly, ever so slowly, Miss Taylor gets herself up to her feet and reaches her hand out again. Her fingers are within touching distance of the cup before something appears to drag the weak Kiwi back into the darkness. The very next second we see her appearing out the shadow behind this table, limping back with a ragged breath as she is dragging her right leg behind herself to reach back to the table. “We will rewrite the stars, make that PSW Phantomweight Championship ours… Nothing will keep us apart because you are the one The Tyrant was meant to win… It’s up to you and it’s up to me… So we’ll rewrite the stars… Changing the world to be ours…” One more time she gingerly, warily and breathlessly reaches out for the item in front of her. The deepness of her breathing possibly shows that something is trying to pull her back. But this time she grabs the trophy with one hand…then the other…and, with a sense of a second wind, she lifts the cup up in a moment of triumph. “You know The Tyrant want you… It’s not a secret The Tyrant try to hide… And so the big bad Dread Wolf will die… Her eyes finally move away from the papier-mâché, slowly trailing down upon us as - the moment her orbs lock onto us - a disturbed smile slowly form upon this bloodied beauty’s face. “This Sunday in The Bronx.” The sickening smile grows ever so slightly more before the flickering light breaks, plunging everything into darkness. |
bloodiedfox + had fun writing this ^.^ |
