For The Glory (Team Guardians CTA)
Jun 5, 2021 13:52:39 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Roy "The Sorrow" Harlowe (NJC), and 3 more like this
Post by TheImpossibleTraveler on Jun 5, 2021 13:52:39 GMT -5
Silence
As the sun sank lower on the horizon, the last rays of daylight hit the weathered stone walls of the East State Penitentiary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. A soft breeze wafted through the hallways, playing up the whispers of the unruly spirits that dwelled within. As Betsy Granger stood before the gated entrance, she was once again mesmerized by the energy surrounding the building. The power of it had caught her off guard, despite all the rooms being empty and the unnerving silence around her; both of which would be non-existent by the time late September rolled around. Her stomach churns as she thinks of the spectacle this place had become; grounds such as these should have never been exploited to make profit. Betsy found herself wondering just how many of those thrill-seekers knew just what they were tromping around in.
She highly doubted it.
Today, she stood before the black metal gates looking at the small patch just beyond that made up the courtyard, waiting for the rest of her party to arrive. Adam Sanders and Adrien Cochrane had asked her to come after she’d flat out refused Anthony Caffrey’s invitation to do so. Ever patient, the boys tried to explain the reasons she should, as Betsy found herself hesitant about meeting in such a place. It was Adam who finally convinced her to join the party here tonight, reminding her of what exactly was at stake if she was willing to cooperate with the rest of the team. Now she stood impatiently at the gate, tapping her foot as she waited for the other’s to show up. Johnny Maverick would also be joining them, a name she was familiar with by association only. The five of them were meeting to get a feel of the Penitentiary before Call to Arms… Not to mention, break the ice as a team. Pursing her lips, Betsy turns from the gates and sweeps her eyes over to the road, but there’s no sign yet of the others. Checking her watch, her impatience melts away when she realizes she’s a half an hour early.
Shaking her head as she admonishes herself, she turns back towards the gates and tentatively runs her fingers over the rough, old stone. Caffrey, being the local boy, had called in some favors and had the prison opened exclusively to them for the night. Betsy was less than thrilled at the prospect of traversing notably haunted grounds after nightfall. It wasn’t that she was scared to do so, she’d explained to an incredulous Adam and Adrien, it was that she never went looking for the trouble she got in. Why start now? The Dropkick King had taken a step back at that point, allowing The Awkward One to convince the Impossible Traveler as to why she should indulge Caffrey’s request. She listened with a curled lip that never straightened itself out, even as she reluctantly agreed to what she felt to be a fool-hardy errand. Even though they thought she hadn’t noticed, Betsy caught the worried expression exchanged between Adam and Adrien.
‘Fucks sake, now you’re just being paranoid’ the words push their way into her head. ‘You only feel suspicious because of what’s going on in AWF.’ Nodding emphatically, Betsy feels the anxiety knot in her stomach loosen for a brief moment. Without thinking, she leans towards the gate, hoping to press her flushed face against the cool metal; to her surprise, the gate sways open easily under her weight. Her fingers wrap instinctively over the bars as she begins to stumble forward, abruptly interrupted from her dark thoughts before they have a chance to dominate… again. Moving with the swing of the gate, she digs her feet into the ground and manages to stop herself before she could crash into the stone wall.
As she gets her feet back underneath her, Betsy looks back and forth between the small space between the double gates. Approaching the gate that stood between her and the courtyard, she pushed and just as she suspected it would, the gate swung open easily. Taking a deep breath to calm the butterflies that had returned to her stomach, she steps through. Her red Converse high-tops crunch under the pavement as she steps between the Warden’s Office and the Visitation Room; her heart begins to pound as she slowly makes her way towards the first row of cell blocks. The sun sank all the way now, turning the sky into a inky black pool scattered with stars. From the satchel slung over her shoulder, she produces a flashlight; clicking it on, she gathers her courage and pushes open the door to the first row of cells.
From the moment her foot hits the floor, she can feel them. Thousands of tormented, forgotten souls, outraged by her trespassing; angrier still by the treatment they had suffered at this place. Her heart hammers away in her chest as the bright beam of light hits the dirty, long abandoned cells. It was a beautiful, balmy evening in Philly, but Betsy shivered as she continued to pass through patches of ice cold air. Stopping in the center of one, her teeth chatter as she blows out, watching her breath puff out like smoke. Stepping out of it, she mumbles a quick apology and continues on; before long, she starts to hear it. At first, she dismisses it as her mind playing tricks on her, given the location; but she stops dead in her tracks when the unmistakable sound of her name echoes through the corridor.
Fear
Dread grabs her with an icy iron fist as her feet turn to lead. As badly as she wanted to run, Betsy found herself rooted to the spot, staring helplessly in the direction her name had been called from. At the other end of the long hallway, she could see a shimmering, silver figure glowing with an other-worldly light. A strangled cry escapes her throat as she remains frozen in place; as the spectral figure makes it’s rapid approach, Betsy covers her eyes and whimpers quietly.
“You have nothing to fear from me, Betsy Granger.”
Surprise overtakes her fear as a startled gasp escapes; dropping her hands from her eyes, Betsy takes in the ethereal being before her. A dour looking woman with dull eyes and thin lips stared at her with a bland expression on her face. She was dressed in early 1900’s fashion, though her clothes showed signs of blatant neglect. The woman was floating just above the floor, all but translucent in her overall appearance. It was the eerie glow that surrounded her, the remains of an aura long snuffed out, that allowed Betsy to see her now.
“Who are you?” was all she could think to ask.
“My name is Freda Frost.” the spirit says simply as she begins to float in a tight circle around Betsy,
A flash of annoyance surges through Betsy, but she pushes it back down. “Alright then, Freda Frost; so tell me about yourself. What landed you in this hell pit?”
Grief and rage go to war over her face. “Never gave me a fair trial, did they? Nope, all those men saw was a disgruntled wife who poisoned her poor, hardworking husband. They never cared about the fact that he used to hit me all the time while he went out and had his lurid affairs; they were quick to call me insane and throw me into this shithole.” Freda fixes an inquisitive gaze on Betsy now. “Should we move on, or would you like to continue asking questions in which you already know the answers?”
Jaw to the ground, Betsy gapes at Freda’s blunt approach. Sticking a finger under her chin and forcing her mouth closed, Betsy smacks herself lightly across the cheek. “Okay, I’ve clearly gone completely insane this time.”
A wicked cackle escapes Freda as she looks Betsy square in the eye for a moment before beginning another rotation. “It’s about time you admitted out loud what everyone else already thinks of you. It’s the first step to acknowledging there’s a problem.” Freda finishes her second turn and stops mere inches in front of Betsy’s face. The expression on her face is sympathetic. “It’s what they do to forward-thinking women like us, Betsy. We take matters into our own hands and when they don’t like the results, they call us criminally insane. Lock us up and throw away the key, never to live another free day under the sun ever again. They fear what they don’t understand; it’s why they label us and cage us like animals.”
“Uh… you killed your husband, sister; I’d say they had a pretty fair cause to put you away. I’m sorry he was a total shit heel, but there were other ways out; that being said, I think being trapped in a place like this was over the top. It’s not like you went on a killing spree.” A grin tugs at Betsy’s lips at Freda’s surprised face. “You think I can’t forgive a woman for not wanting to put up with a man's shit anymore? Again, not the route I would have taken, but you did what you felt you had to.”
“You have no idea what I endured at his hands; do you really think I never tried to escape him? Think about the era, Betsy Granger: who were they more likely to believe?”
An unexpected pang of sympathy hits Betsy as peers at Freda with new curiosity. “How do you know me, Freda?” she finally asks in a soft voice.
A grin splits Freda’s ghostly face in half. “I was beginning to wonder if you would ever ask. In life, I was always able to read one's soul without ever having to speak a word to them. It was an uncanny gift that caused a lot of my problems later in life. When I passed into this realm, the gift was amplified; I can read your every emotion, Betsy Granger, and I know why you are here.”
Turning away now, Freda begins to glide down the corridor in the direction she came. Relieved to find that her legs were now functioning again, Betsy follows on light feet. At the end of the hall, Freda passes easily through the doorway, earning an eye roll from the Impossible Traveler. Pushing open the heavy door, she finds herself in the middle of an octagon shaped intersection of doors. Each one opens to a never-ending hallway, clustered with small, dirty cells. Freda is already gliding through another door, forcing Betsy to quicken her pace to keep up. Pushing her way through another door, she steps into a row of cells that had clearly been meant for the female inmates. At the halfway point, Freda stops before a small cell and stares inside; at once, Betsy knows who had once occupied the space. Stepping past Freda, she enters the claustrophobia inducing space and closes her eyes. Even like that, she can feel the walls closing in around her; she hurries out of the cell without noticing her breath had become shallow. Freda watches her every move.
“That could be your home if you aren’t careful, Impossible One.”
“You keep saying that, but I haven’t killed anyone to get myself put away.” Betsy counters snappishly. “The non-believers can call me whatever the fuck they want; they’ll never stifle my voice or gaslight me successfully.”
Freda sneers at Betsy’s fired-up determination. “Do you truly believe it’s only non-believers like Neo James Carner and Rob Garcia who would have you locked away?"
Suspicion
Her face falls slightly as Betsy is confronted with the very question she’s asked herself a thousand times. Even those who have experienced the insane brilliance that was Excellence looked at her sideways when she spoke sometimes. She knew for some, traveling with her was a lot to take; many had joined her for a ride, very few had stayed along for the long haul. She had been much too frivolous in sharing what she had created, now it was biting her in the ass left, right, and center. Even… ‘NO’ she screams internally, pushing back the thought before it could ever finish formulating. But it’s already too late to hide it, her face had changed just enough for Freda to catch the train of her thoughts.
“You know why friends like Adam Sanders and Adrien Cochrane keep you so close? It’s not because they are in awe of what you inspire; it’s because they fear what it may do to your mind. What about Eddie Walker; do you think he would keep you out of the nut house if he felt you were going over the edge? How do you know he won’t do it NOW, when you pose a real threat to Adam’s new championship reign?”
Betsy shakes her head in denial. “Eddie would be proud of me, whether it’s Adam I beat for that belt or anyone else. But why are we even talking about this right now; Call to Arm isn’t even where the title goes on the line.” Betsy glares at Freda now. “Why are you trying to rile me up against the wrong people?”
“Because there are no right people, Betsy Granger. Look at the position you are in going into this ‘Call to Arms’ you spoke of. Outshined right away by two former X-Crown Champions and your best friend, the current Prestige Champion. I can feel how much it eats away at you; the total lack of mention of your name throughout all of these promos from all of these other wrestlers. Oh sure, the usual suspects made sure to play their usual childish games at your expense, but anyone who knows the ReVenants knows that anything those idiots say should be taken with a grain of salt.” Freda pauses for a moment to gauge Betsy’s reaction. She hides a smug grin as anger begins to seep into Betsy’s face.
“I mean, seriously; how is it that not one person, save for those clowns, has mentioned my name? It’s not like I’ve been under the radar, I came into this fucking place and won their god damned Phoenix Championship in my second match. I defended the fucking thing successfully in a Triple Threat on a Network god damn show. But I’m the one being ignored? Me… And poor Maverick, of course." Betsy begins to tremble as rage burns through her. “You know, I’m happy for my friends and all the successes they’ve had, past and present… And I’ll leave it at that.” she halts her words abruptly, refusing to finish her thoughts.
Freda isn’t willing to let it go that easily. “It must sting, knowing the only reason Anthony Caffrey is willing to hitch his hook to your cart is because of Adrien. I can’t imagine it gets any better, knowing Adam has made it to that all exclusive brotherhood of top champions. It hurts worse that you’ll admit, doesn’t it?” Freda’s grin grows malevolent as she sees Betsy’s resolve starting to fail her. “It must be absolute torture, seeing Adam being treated as an equal by those considered Titans while you still claw your way up the mudslide. Adam rises to the top as you continue to stumble ever backward; why else would Adrien have to sell you so hard to your teammates? Adam may be loyal, but he’s no longer on even ground with you; that title has elevated him beyond you now.” As Betsy turns her crestfallen face back to Freda, the other puts on a look of fake sympathy. “Face it kid: even though you have the best odds of winning this thing, you’re going to be the most overlooked on your team. Nobody beyond the AWF is going to give you more than a glance as they pick and choose who to highlight.”
“Then I’ll make those mother fuckers notice.” There’s a dangerous edge in her voice now as Betsy’s expression hardens. Her green eyes glitter like glass against the darkness. “Too many of them are coming into this ignorant to who the fuck I am. But I promise you this, Freda: not a single one of them will leave without my name leaving their lips.” Freda’s eyes begin to flow fiendishly red as she captures Betsy more and more. “Whatever it takes, I’ll make damn sure all eyes are on me by the end of Call to Arms. Fuck your odds on favorites to win; how can you evenly call a field when most of you haven’t even heard of your most looming threat in this thing? I may not have an X-Crown Championship to my name yet, but why on earth should I need one to be recognized?” Now Betsy’s green eyes begin to reflect Freda’s glowing red. “Call to Arms is my chance, Freda; the opportunity I’ve been waiting for. It’s high time I stopped giving a fuck about the consequences and started taking all the things that should be mine. If Eddie and Adrien want to quietly watch me like hawks for signs of betrayal, fucking let them. If they want to believe that I’m going to turn on Adam any second because they’ve seen it happen to Adrien, perhaps I ought to humor their asses. Teach them a lesson in allowing their faith in me to waiver.” As Betsy continues to speak, Freda’s grin fades as she focuses on the Impossible Traveler. “Eddie is just uppity because Adam is his favorite and he doesn’t want him to lose the Prestige Title. He’ll never admit that out loud, especially not to me, but we all know it’s true. Adam is like a son to Eddie, it’s never been a secret; and the fact is, Eddie and I have just never been as close as that. It’s why I haven’t seen him in private ever since the match was announced; he’s either with Adrien being chummy or with Adam being encouraging. It’s completely fine though, you know why?” Unbeknownst to her, Freda has now engulfed her completely, overtaking Betsy’s entirely before she could stop it… Not that she could have ever stopped it now. The words continued to pour unbidden from her lips as Freda began to take Betsy for her own. “Because I don’t fucking need them; hell, I don’t need anybody. If I have to lay waste to everyone from Rob Garcia to Adam Sanders to get what I want, so be it. People are already suspicious of me and would point fingers before a crime was ever committed; why not indulge them? Every fairy tale needs a good villain; perhaps it’s time to let reality turn this sweet princess into the evil queen I’m clearly destined to be?”
Burn It All
Suddenly aware of Freda’s intrusion, Betsy’s fear leaps through her like a dash of ice water. At first she fights it, not wanting to be consumed by the woman’s rage and hatred; but the power of it began to fuel her further and she stopped resisting. Feeling her own powers playing just beneath the surface, Betsy begins to speak again, her voice now shared with another, booming loudly through the quiet halls of the prison she had now become one with.
“The prize at the end of the tunnel is a shot at the X-Crown Championship; the very thing that seems to overshadow my presence in this team. Look at the obstacles I must face to get there; a plethora of teams just waiting to be demolished. Oh, what a merry game we’ll make of it, one and all; just all of you and little ol’ me, running rampant in one of the most haunted spots in the United States. How can I resist the chance to go toe to toe with teams like the Galactic Sex Pirates or the ReVenants… For the thousandth time. How dreadfully booooooooring.” Betsy rolls her eyes dramatically. “Honestly people, take a look at my history against them. It may not be spotless, but it’ll tell the story you need to know. I may still be considered one of the ‘new kids’ but I made my mark on this place pretty fucking fast. But seeing as most of you have been failing to mention me, I’ll do the job for you. I’m the member of the Guardians you don’t hear about; to be fair, it’s likely because I was never an actual Guardian to begin with. But Betsy Granger was always a presence, lurking just beneath the surface, waiting to explode. That time has come at long last and all of you have stepped on the landmine. I could sit here and pick off each team by name, one by one, but why bother with something so redundant? Put each and every one of them before me and they’ll all meet their same fate at the hands of the Impossible Traveler. And then…” At this, Betsy turns blindly towards the front of the building. Even then, she hadn't noticed that Adam Sanders himself had appeared and was hiding in the shadows, watching and listening with growing horror. “... And then comes the most daunting task of all; that which promises all the reward I could ever dream. Call to Arms is merely step one; just a few more challenges await me, then both the Prestige and X-Crown Titles will be mine. There isn’t a single person who can stop me now.” Tipping her head back, a bone-chilling cackle escapes her lips.
Terrified, Adam finally darts forward and grabs his best friend by the shoulders. Desperately, he starts to shake her as she looks up at him without seeing. “Betsy, it’s Adam! Come on, snap out of it, please!”
His voice cuts through Freda’s influence, causing her own fear to creep back through her. In some distant part within herself, she can hear Freda screaming as she tries to keep her hold over Betsy. She closes her eyes tightly and shakes her head vigorously as tears squeeze out and leak down her cheeks; Adam responds to this by pulling her against him and hugging her tightly. They stand there like that for what seemed like hours until Betsy, suddenly exhausted and completely drained, sagged against him, shaking violently.
“Adam… I…” She looks up into his face and the look in his eyes confirms what she had feared. He’d heard everything she’d wanted to keep hidden and chances were, so had the others. Filled to her very core with shame and grief, she lowers her head, unable to meet his eyes any longer. “I’m sorry you had to hear any of that.”
At first, the Awkward One says nothing as he just stares at the top of his best friend's head. Finally, he sucks in a deep breath and lets it out shakily. “I honestly don’t know how to respond to any of this right now, Bets. That was a lot to take in and now is the worst time and place to try to process and talk it out.” Taking a step away from her now, he runs a hand through his shaggy hair and turns back towards the entrance. “The others are waiting for us at the warden’s office. They sent me in to look for you after we heard you scream. You should have waited for us.” He says this last bit disapprovingly.
“We shouldn’t have come at all, just as I said.” Betsy says, suddenly angry. Without another word, she pushes her way past Adam and leads them both back in uncomfortable silence to where the rest of the Guardians were waiting...