MY BLOODY VALENTINE
The Scene Opens…
The Hampton Memorial Gardens Cemetery is a national historic district in Hampton, Virginia, located east of the city. It was officially founded in 1845, although interments took place for many years before. The cemetery is rural and an attraction for its old Gothic mausoleums. Here is where we find the beautiful and dangerous “Gypsy Moth”, Minerva. Wearing black leggings, boots a purple halter top and jacket, her long nails polished black, sporting her long-straightened raven hair. There is a metal chair, dented lying next to her, a black rose in her hands….
Minerva’s blue eyes slowly shift over to the camera as she sits gravestones….
The recordings begin, in her sexy yet calm and eerie voice the gorgeous gypsy smirks a little before speaking….
Bestowed upon those who take comfort in opportunity. How many of you feel honored to be here? A chance to make it in the world of professional “wrasslin’”? Thinking this is merely a game, a chance to put your name in lights? You have it all wrong, this week on Thursday Night Empire is a perfect example of that. We are taught at a young age to have pride in winning and modesty in losing. They want us to be good sports, respect one another, stand up and be a role model for the younger generation that will come after us as we did from our parents. To set a standard in this sport, to combat and compete at its highest level by doing so with dignity and prestige building a reputable existence so that others may follow in our footsteps.
Who was your inspiration?
Why are you here in the first place?
I want you to think about that Empire roster and anyone who actually takes the time to listen to my words and those that don’t, they will catch up sooner rather than later. Some of you are blooming and full of confidence, brash and impetuous, even at times rude through immaturity. Prolific, beautiful and worthy of breaking molds that society has fought against and instead create prototypes like the current “Thorn in my side” as the standard?
Is this truly your time, Mali Evans and a win over me will be the battle cry, expected, pointing to all roads that lead to your ascension? Or will it be another display of my defiance in refusing to follow the script and instead create my own story they don’t want to see told? First, forcing me to hurt someone for my own entertainment so that I may make a statement as a stark reminder that last week was simply a stumble and not a fall. Now, my spot WILL be written in stone inside this Iconic Cup Tournament by testing me once again with you, wanting to see if I am the real deal. Mali, situations can be deceiving, “The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist”, hear that before? I find it quite amusing actually how it pertains to this for you know not who you stand against the ring with. This instead has become one big cartoon….
And you’re a living caricature in the real world.”
Taking a whiff from the rose to calm herself down, Minerva closes her eyes for a moment, taking in her surroundings and everything that has been happening since the last Thursday Night Empire. Her blue eyes slowly open and stare into the camera…
“Is this to be a bullet for my Valentine?
I feel a little disappointed. When did the wrestling business become full of actors, comedians and prima donnas? Have we decided to accept this culture as a norm and when someone like me speaks out, all there is a ridicule? Doubt? Contempt of my words and actions? Some can do no wrong, others can do no right, the rest make their beds, sleep in it and wake up groggy in self-pity or envy. We have wrestlers that commit character suicide as part pf your streaming service, the days of sensitivity are at an all-time high where one word can classify you as an Anti-semantic, racist or deviant and that’s just for starters. We have others that think they are cute, intelligent and witty, thinking I won’t do anything in my power to rip their tongues out and lick their own asses with it.
This has become the land of complacency and at the same time, shades of grey for black and white doesn’t exist anymore.
We are led by Champions who rather show their hubris than guile promoting the company, I personally could care less about the respect from my peers, I don’t need it. Should I sob? Weep for what was once a strong foundation now slowly crumbling at its core. Maybe there is some secret girl club that exists, they get the preferential treatment? The same who suddenly I victimize by my own hand for pure pleasure? It is easy to put faults in the background, hide it behind the lies you like to call truths.
Just remember, the Devil is in the details.
I am the most meticulous bitch you’ll ever meet, Mali Evans.”
Minerva chuckles a little, running her fingers behind at one of the Tombstones, carefully sniffing the rose again for an aromatic euphoria before continuing to speak….
“Did you think when Emile Lane here died behind me at 27 years old that he knew it was coming? Maybe it was a sudden or painfully slow? See, that’s the beauty and the horror of life all mixed into one package. Every single day could be your last. For some of these ladies in the Empire brand, they tend to take things a little too much for granted. Mali Evans, a name that continues to slip through my lips is all confidence heading into our match for a chance to qualify for the Iconic Cup Tournament. Last week, she decided it was a good idea to play spoiler, taking away my moment as I was ready to shock the world and beat a Champion in the EAW, for no apparent reason other than a Death Wish, trying to play her part of “Anti-Hero” or maybe just trying to stay relevant and hip, whichever sounds better since we haven’t seen or heard anything from her since my debut, I’m sure she’s been planning the after party celebrations after tomorrow night, my bad. I again was about to tear down Jael, a great and fierce competitor, a woman that I could learn to like if she wasn’t so full of delusions of grandeur thinking I was at her “mercy” and she was “dominating” in our match when it was I who had her dead to rights, ready to shock the EAW so if anything she should be on her knees, hands together thanking her God the woman I “stole” a victory from the prior week saved her humility, a perfect example how in one day you can go from sugar to shit in a matter of moments all to grandstand about something silly as being undefeated while another seeks “Revenge”? Jael, don’t lie to yourself, it’s embarrassing and one day we will finish our little dance.
For now, I have business to attend to yet again with Mali, who still thinks she is the lovable underdog, the woman who finally took control of a situation she was not a part of and with one very dramatic, ill-advised chair shot, knocked me unconscious long enough to make her stand and send the message that she was not going to fall without a fight….
By becoming a martyr?
The result of a dead woman walking.
Shame, for a fight was what she would have been given and now instead it will be a massacre, bludgeoned at my hands not by hate or strife, but by necessity. This gives me no comfort Mali, coming to the EAW so far feels like an old bottle of champagne, that fizzle goes a bit flat, waiting and wanting without any doubt what I have patiently waited for, a spot in the Empire roster.
Mali Evans let’s look at it as having a duel of chess with an orangutan, cute and adoring but not very bright. What you have just done, was jump back into the lion’s cage with a pork chop wrapped around your neck when all you had to do was accept your defeat, appreciate the term “Any means necessary” as I’m a woman that doesn’t follow any order or play by any rules and move on but no, that thin line between winning and losing was too much for you to handle. Fooling yourself in that attacking me would bring some sense of achievement while staring at my bruised face as I was laid out flat on my back in the middle of the ring with Jael when you committed two cardinal sins….
Interfering in my affairs and leaving me breathing.
It must be hard Mali living your entire life in a state of complacency, not understanding that every action will get a reaction.
Does that sound familiar?
Maybe it can be attributed to the culture of the EAW, one you’re supposed to be a part of while other stars, those who only get up to matches they deem worthy of attention show up when they want? That’s not me. You were better off attacking the entire Crowe’s Nest. I must admit, I’m impressed that you went that far to get my attention. Obviously, Mali you are someone that doesn’t think very highly of me, instead of approaching this as a chance to take down the newest wrestler in this company in a short month already starting to hear the whisper of the locker room, claiming to have so much heart, passion and soul for Empire and the competition in the ring? Would you look at me Mali like the rest of society has, shrug your shoulders and go “Meh”? I should be sitting in some street alley shooting up rock with a bunch of my kind wasting space instead of making your life hell and being the one obstacle, you will never overcome? Has the original plan changed Mali, are you starting to realize now that there is no good and evil? A dog eats dog world, wrestling this newcomer, known as Minerva, just some trash gypsy from Texas? Did the cat catch your tongue or did you realize that the whole time, you stick your nose in my conquests, then try to be heroic was because in a few short fucking moments I am going to wipe the mat with you Mali? Hearing the cries of injustice from our last match, spewing from your mouth like uncontrollable vomit. Here I look at you, like many of you and the first thing I think of….
“Big Girls Like Big Diamonds” and yet….
You settle for Cubic Zirconia’s’?
The problem is Mali like the rest of the roster, you feel entitled. Oh, it is so exciting to be the sweetheart, the feel good story in the locker room, “I have trained so hard, one day I will have beaten the best, I will be a World Champion, because I believe in myself” yada, yada, yada and any other cliché remark we can post on some random inspirational poster thrown out there, for you should be a woman that I can at least admire and instead what you are to me?
That’s the difference between you and I? See, Mali, I do not care about your goals, no interest in who you’ve beaten or how you arrived here, what successes the “Cinderella Tale” Mali Evans has seen in the EAW. All I care about is the here and the now, the actions you’ve perpetrated against me, what you took like a thief in the night. Is that hard to comprehend? For you it might because you are so diluted in this bubble of lies you’ve created to form some sort of subtle hero worship everyone can get behind for a simple pop on live TV? Eat it up Mali, shower yourself with praises?
Big mistake Ms. Evans…..
Very big mistake.”
Her blue eyes narrow, leaning against the tombstone, reaching over at the chair still with one black rose in hand. Minerva’s hand with the long black nails slowly scratches down the dented steel, a smile now forming with piercings on her lips, speaking softly…..
“Have you ever looked into the dark abyss, Mali? Stare at it long enough and it will stare back. In the real-world women like you are put on this earth to be walked all over. So pretty and respectful yet sensitive and fragile on the inside. A shame really, always being victimized in life and your career, watching the reputation you have questioned after your recent actions to now finally building the courage to fight back and for what? A woman who is thought by many as strong and encouraging in her work ethic has started to see what I have been telling you all along that sooner or later everyone reaches a limit and they must face their true fear…..
In your case, Minerva.
Were your parents proud of that moment last week, Mali? Were your fans excited to see you finally show some attitude and piss away everything you’ve ever preached in a rainfall of deception and hypocrisy? Here I thought you were taped up, held together taking only one little nudge to shatter your soul. Thing is Mali, I get it, I understand why you did it and I will be the first to commend you, all I ask is stop pretending. There have been many times in my young career where others tried to bury what I represent, they failed. This company has given you ample chance to make a name for yourself and now I will make you crawl into a little hole, the safe-haven that protects Mali Evans from the big bad wolf of the EAW for I’ll be damned if I’m the one you finally make your name in Empire. When I came to last week? I wasn’t angry, I didn’t need any questions answered, I didn’t mope and point fingers, instead I smile, put ice on my face and know that I have finally found a woman worth killing. The question is will I go that far Thursday night?
When the bell rings, I won't need a chair, instead I'll be looking at my hands, your flesh under my nails, blood caked on my skin, showering in your frothing spit? No, because denying you entry into the Iconic Cup Tournament is close to murder as I will get, giving you the chance to sit back and watch me win knowing that YOU Mali were the driving force behind it, finding myself in a position to plant my flag here.
Right now, you stand in my way.
I like comedy, I laugh at things and you are the cruel, sick joke running in my head on loop over and over. So brave and strong in front of the camera, so Jekyll and Hyde until the bell rings and you come to the grim realization that you’re outmatched, the pride sweating out of your pores only led you down the valley of a shadow of death in which you can no longer come back from and the worst part? The chagrin and discontent of your imminent defeat at my hands. Looking into the face of your fans, your family and friends, anyone that has ever lied to you and said this was the path of enlightenment and one day you would be a “leader” to stand tall holding the World in your hands because like Walt Disney said, “If you can dream it, you can do it”, right Mali?
Deception at its best.”
The gorgeous Gypsy now starts to laugh, her eyes turning and gazing at the dent in the chair that was used to hit her in the face. She starts to touch the bruised and sensitive part of her cheek and forehead where the makeup covers the black and blue marks. Slowly she speaks….
“You broke my face….
Bravo! Remember this is not a movie, Mali. There are no fireballs that will shoot out of your hands, there is no thunder when stomping your feet and no lightning when gazing in the eyes of a woman who is ready to gauge yours, the common denominator here is that like so many others foolishly running in blind into battle, have a tendency of overlooking the consequences of their actions. Unfortunately words these days on any platform have become the weapon of choice, not saying you’re not impressive, small in frame but now Mali, you will truly be tested as will I the only difference is, you’re coming to win and exact revenge.
I’m going into Thursday Night Empire for one reason, to break you.
Why did I come to EAW? Why did I decide to wrestle? We all have our reasons Mali, I can picture your father telling you stories how hard work, dedication and will can help you live out this fantasy like you see on TV. This is about being cool, kicking the hell out of the new kid on the block to protect your spot and the loose grip you hold on tightly. This to you is a game. I felt that way once, walking into this sport, fresh to this and all I wanted to do was lick, bite and laugh at those who were disgusted by my actions and don’t get me wrong, I still do at times, but you see Mali, not all of us are here to have fun. I have always been asked the question as to why have I chosen to go down a road that no one else would dare take? Every single morning when I wake up from my deep slumber, yes, I always sleep well, I gaze upon the mirror and ask myself that same question….
Sigmund Freud once stated that “The Virtuous Man contents himself with dreaming that which the Wicked Man does in actual life”. Is that true? Do you lie in your bed staring up at that ceiling wishing that you had the power to grab that lead pipe and bash your whiny significant other over the head with it? Maybe walk into your job and punch your boss in the face before slamming his head into the desk. These are all carnal acts in which you want to execute, and in hindsight did some last week but your doubt prevents you from following through….
For you’ve been programmed to know remorse, regret and contrition.
I don’t have those feelings, I don’t have the same values gorgers, like you do.
You remind me of Icarus, the son of Daedalus all he wanted to do was fly, so his father built him wings made of wax told him to soar but not too high, stay away from the sun. Yet in his arrogance and pride he didn’t listen, flying too close to that hot sun and seeing his wings melt, falling and crashing to his death in the dark seas below…..
I am that sun, bitch….
Fly, Mali, Fly.”
Minerva smiles, tilting her head and gazing into the camera….
“You are the reason I exist, why my father sent me to the EAW. It is gorgers like you who have attributed to the fall of the social classes, relegating them to primal acts of idiocy and buffoonery. So much haste and swaggering, not even willing to pay the price that each of us have had to at one point or another due to your stature, falling into the hands of victory in an eternal embrace only for it to release and we fall to our knees in defeat…..
And come Thursday Night Empire, I will look down upon you Mali Evans with a grin of sinful delight after I lick the sweat, blood and tears of embarrassment from your face by an opponent you couldn’t even have the decency of allowing to make her mark on a Champion who lives in a blanket of lies. You will now see the TRUE face of Minerva and why I am here. Starting now and forever like every other opponent I have beaten, you will wear the scars of “The Princess Killer”…..
No more hope, no more glitter or gold, Ms. Evans….
Instead a cruel and horrific reminder to the rest of the women here who want to cross and take from me what is mine, as you fall, I will become "Iconic"."
Minerva stares for a moment before she starts to laugh some. She stands up and places the black rose on the chair which lies on the grave site…..
Will you be my Bloody Valentine?”
Walking away as the camera focuses on simply that image as Minerva’s laughter can still be heard.
Likes: Raven Roberts