Post by Sarah Twilight on May 17, 2016 4:15:12 GMT
When you open the pages to the book of one's life, rarely are they filled with fantastical tales of adventure and good fortune. In fact, for most, the pages would fill merely a chapter or two of basic, uninteresting information. You see most people's lives are defined by nothing more than photographs. Simple pictures taken of times in their lives that are important to them, but not necessarily to anyone else. How do most people do it? Just ride along the main path of life, never choosing to take a detour to see what is possible. What kind of a mark can you leave on this world if you've never bothered to stray from the mundane existence that surrounds you?
Perhaps that is why fairy tales exist? Outrageous stories of impossible feats. Heroes meeting certain peril, and somehow they manage to triumph in the end. Somehow, evil is vanquished and a happy ending is seen by all. I suppose these tales are meant to provide hope for those who have no meaning in life. Fabricated stories that serve no purpose other than to deceive the masses into a belief that in the end, the righteous will reap the rewards. That a happy ending awaits those who have done good for the benefit of humanity by simply lining in droves to become sheep. Yes sheep, willing to sacrifice their own opportunity to leave a significant mark upon this world, because that is what a practical society tells them.
It's really quite hilarious when you put it all into perspective. Each day the sheep are plagued by loss, by death, disease and suffering. The multitudes wallow in heartache and despair and yet they chose to hold onto hope. They chose to believe what they are indoctrinated with as children. They find false comfort in the idea that dreams are achieved through something as ridiculous as wishing upon a star. Perhaps they find solace inside of the myth that a guardian angel shall guide them through their miseries and lead them to the light at the end of the tunnel.
It is this deceit, the empty promise of reward for valiance that has been the downfall of man for ages. Fairy tales are just that .... tales. Happiness does not exist for those whom wait for it. Heroes are not always victorious, and evil is never always vanquished. For the only people who gather the spoils, are the ones who will take them for themselves. Victory is achieved through desire and not valor. Wealth is amassed through greed. And a hero is only a hero, if he is able to convince the masses of his deeds.
It is those who choose to do for themselves who shall be remembered. They are the ones who remain immortalized in the hearts and the minds of the world. Ironic, is it not? The masses of the insignificant flock to those that have taken what they've wanted from life. The unimportant always do. They long to be in the presence of someone who has achieved everything this world has to offer. Perhaps they do this in the hope that it would somehow make their own life more meaningful, just to have been around someone who's name indicates significance.
This ignorance ... this blind faith is what separates the predators from prey. The meek from the strong. These meaningless sheep who have been conditioned to accept whatever they are fed. They have looked but were blind and did not notice that the troff was full with meat and not grain, and that a wolf resided among them. In this very moment, each of the flock have written off their chance at their so-called happy ending as they waited for a hero to deliver them from their own turmoil.
Make what you will of this life, for I shall choose to write my own book.
~ Sarah Twilight
Los Angeles, California
Monday, May 9th 2016
3:15pm PST
Los Angeles is beautiful this time of year. Then again, Southern California almost always is. Palm trees basking in the cool breeze while the warmth of the sun keeps them perfectly content. In May, it wasn't unusual to see beach-goers, already enjoying the sandy beaches and legendary surf. At a nearly perfect seventy four degrees, who wouldn't enjoy it? Though when you get away from the crowds of the beach and the tourist trap that it is, you find serenity. The Hollywood Hills. The A-List suburb for the who's who of entertainment. Nestled quietly within one of the most densely forested areas in So-Cal, there at the end of the culdesac on Valevista Trail sat a two story luxury home that belongs to wrestling legend, Sarah Twilight. Beautiful pine trees flourish throughout the landscape. A pristine white gravel road leads up to the roundabout drive adjacent to the main entrance of the home. The drive decorated with an elegant flowing fountain as it's centerpiece. An enclosed deck overlooking part of the canyon can be seen on the east end of the home. And as our cameras take us on a panoramic view we are treated to the picturesque scenery of Sarah's in ground swimming pool. Crystal clear water heated to a very inviting seventy eight degrees. A hinted blue hue projected pleasantly to the eyes, partly from the base of the pool's interior and partly a reflection of the flawless blue, cloudless sky. An outdoor atrium surrounds the pool. Various native and exotic floral arrangements, plants and small trees create the scenic complexity of a true oasis. Hummingbirds and sparrows flock here to add to the natural beauty of Sarah's own personal paradise.
Just as we would have begun toward the home's interior and the splendors contained within, the water's edge begins to part with semicircular waves. Emerging from the cool breadth of the sparkling liquid is Sarah Twilight herself...in a way you would not expect to see a woman who is highly revered and likewise feared for her horrific mean streak. Her long, slender legs lead her petite feet onto the wooden deck surrounding the pool. As she steps out from the watery enclosure we are treated to a full view of the 'Mistress of Mischief'. A deep purple , small cut bikini covers her bottom, only secured to her hips by a thin string tied together on each end. Water glistens off of her toned naval as her hips sway sensuously in her confident swagger. Her bosom covered by a matching top, also small cut and tied in the back with a string. Emerald eyes sparkling in the haze of the sunlight peaking over the horizon. Her long, flowing locks of red hair set beautifully over her shoulders despite being waterlogged and flattened down. Tiny droplets of water roll down her toned and lightly tanned arms and body. Many of them collecting at her fingertips where they form small gleaming beads at the very tips of her fingernails before breaking away to make their final descent to the wooden deck below. Sarah's natural beauty is unmatched. Without the glossy facade of cosmetic products to hide and cover imperfections, she stands as the picture of beauty. Truth be told, there were no imperfections. She takes hold of a mauve cotton towel placed neatly on one of her sun lounge deck chairs and wipes the water away from her face. Only a few pats suffice. Just enough to clear away the excess.
Once she moves through the foyer and into the main living area, we can see two leather sofas perpendicular to one another and adding a partial enclosure for a beautifully smooth, intricately carved mahogany coffee table. The fine details illuminated by the shimmering radiance of the Waterford crystal chandelier hanging above. A spacious living quarters by any equation. Stunning hardwood lines the room flawlessly accenting the various bookshelves that served as the walls for this room's border. The casing also detailed in mahogany. A large flat panel high definition television stands about midway from the entry leading in from the foyer. It settles atop another mahogany piece. An entertainment unit that houses various other electronics. The many other variables within the room that can be detailed and highlighted to their utmost potential seem to fade into the background as most eyes would be cast upon Sarah, still in her very revealing swimwear. Though her moment of complete serenity is broken, along with the silence as her younger sister Rachel walks in from the kitchen, her car keys still in her hand.
Rachel was quite an attractive woman as well but with a much more reserved appearance. Her mousey brown hair was cut quite a bit shorter than Sarah's scarlet locks and Rachel's dark brown eyes were in contrast to Sarah's deep emerald green ones. She was shorter than Sarah by perhaps an inch but just as slender and in shape as her older sister. Rachel is wearing a pair of white capris with matching open toed sandals and a violet mid-drift top along with several bangled bracelets and a small, modest silver necklace with a heart shaped locket for the pendant. She glances at her older sister oddly as she addresses her.
Rachel: You look quite content for someone who has no idea what the future of her employment looks like.
Sarah tilts her head with a passive smirk as she notices her sister had let herself in. There had been quite the amount of concern for Sarah after news broke of the possible closure of WCF. The Mistress of Mischief clearly wasn't bothered by the situation.
Sarah: It's not as if I need the money.
Rachel sighs as she was never insinuating such a thing. Her concern was with how very seriously Sarah had always taken her career. The possibility that she may no longer have one ... it would be anyone's guess how Sarah would ultimately take that.
Rachel: I ... didn't mean it like that. Just ... what are you going to do?
Sarah shrugs her shoulders a bit as she reaches down toward the coffee table and retrieves the television remote, switching it on. She motions Rachel to the countertop in the kitchen where a folder was left open. Obviously Sarah had been looking it over prior to her swim.
Sarah: I have a few ... options.
Rachel turns back toward the kitchen and glances over the paperwork out of sheer curiousity. It doesn't take long before her jaw is agape and she looks back toward Sarah with a wild shock in her eyes.
Rachel: Are you NUTS?!
Sarah barely had gotten the chance to turn her attention to Rachel and realize that she wasn't happy with the information she'd seen before her younger sister begins lecturing her ... which seemed to be a normal thing in Sarah's life.
Rachel: Ana Valentine?! ANA VALENTINE?! Sarah ... what are you even thinking? After everything you've done to her ... you think it's a good idea to go and work for her? Please tell me you're not considering this?
Sarah very coyly flashes off a devilshly sexy smirk, accompanied by a wink.
Sarah: Maybe?
Rachel places her hands on her hips and lets out a very frustrated sigh.
Rachel: You tried to kill the girl, Sarah. You really think she's just going to welcome you into her organization with open arms?
The smirk upon Sarah's face curls into a full on grin at this point. A small simpering laugh even manages to escape her at the thought of that question.
Sarah: She's the one who sent me the offer. Granted ... I'm suspicious as fuck about it. But, I can't blame her for trying. I mean she did always want to be like me ...
Sarah scoffs at that very notion.
Sarah: I suppose having me on her roster is as close as she can get.
Rachel throws her hands up in disgust as she walks back into the living room.
Rachel: Are you even listening to yourself?! This whole thing ... it's insanity. You don't even know what's going to happen with WCF yet. Seth could call you tomorrow and then what?
Sarah nods, passively.
Sarah: He could ... or he could not. Listen, I'm not going to sit on my ass and wait. Do you know how many organizations would KILL to have me? People aren't stupid, they know how much their market value rises even MENTIONING my name. Look at what WCF did to get me back in the first place.
Rachel actually agrees with her sister on this aspect, but of course uses that very measure to retort.
Rachel: EXACTLY! So why the hell would you go and work for Ana? You can go anywhere you want ... why throw fuel on that fire again?
The irony of Rachel's final statement is lost on her ... but it certainly garners a chuckle out of Sarah, who casually saunters over to the kitchen countertop and retrieves the paperwork from Valentine Wrestling Syndicate that had been sent to her. She shuffles through a few pages before she finds what she was looking for. Heading back towards Rachel, she flips the page to face her sister and smirks heavily.
Sarah: Call it ... knowing some familiar faces. Perhaps it's that a few of us from WCF are considering it ... or perhaps ... it's because THAT is what I am being offered for a simple two year contract.
Rachel's eyes go wide as she looks at the numbers on the page. She then looks back at Sarah with some confusion.
Rachel: You yourself just said you don't need the money. I mean yes, that is a LOT of money. But ...
Sarah: But the fact that people are willing to pay me those numbers to appear on their programs IS important to me. The very fact that Ana Valentine ... a girl I nearly ENDED as you already pointed out ... would pay me that much to draw me in. That speaks volumes. Sure, there are comparable offers. But ya know sis ... I actually like walking back into the fire. What the fuck is the point of all that money if I don't get to have any fun?
Rachel places her hand over her forehead and is very distraught over Sarah's entire attitude towards such a situation.
Rachel: I ... I just don't know anymore with you. I can't tell you what to do with your life, but I will tell you that going to work for Ana Valentine is a very bad idea.
Sarah shrugs once again as she non chalantly places the page back down on the counter. In all honesty, she hadn't made her decision yet on whether she was going to work for the VWS. This conversation however, was tempting her to do just that.
Sarah: Perhaps it is a very bad idea. But we both know ... it will only be bad for everyone else. If Ana truly wants my name on the marquee of her organization ... then she knows she is opening Pandora's Box and she .. along with every last one of her employees will have to suffer the consequence of that. Anyhow ... I need a shower. I currently have no obligation to anyone, and I am taking this time to enjoy myself.
Rachel doesn't say another word. The look in her eyes says it all. She is very disappointed and somewhat heartbroken that Sarah once again chooses to take the path of most resistance. Not because she felt the need to challenge herself ... but because for whatever reason, Sarah enjoyed the chaos. Rachel had long ago come to terms with the fact that Sarah's chest contained a dark, black mass where her heart had once been. But there was always hope that this would change. On this day, that hope had been snuffed out once more. Slowly, and solemnly, Rachel makes her way through the foyer and exits Sarah's home. Momentarily we fade out.
Running water. The sound is unmistakable as once again images begin to take shape before our eyes. Just beyond the frosted glass panes of a shower door, the blurred outline of naked flesh is barely visible. Red pigmentation meanders its way through the opacity of the door's cover, indicating that our very own Sarah Twilight stood behind the distorted barrier. The sound of knobs turning can be heard. The steady steam of water comes to a slow drip, and finally a complete halt. The chlorine from the pool having been washed from her body, Sarah takes the towel from above the folding of the shower's door frame. After a few moments of using the cloth to remove the water from her perfect body, she emerges from the enclosed shower, the towel being the only thing covering her. Tucked just above her breasts and barely covering her bottom, the towel's trim rests at her upper thigh line. She steps out from the bathroom and into the hallway, still covered only in a towel. Her red hair frizzy after a vigorous effort to dry the lovely locks with her towel. Just across the hall was the master bedroom, where a fresh set of clothing and a hair dryer awaited her.
As she approaches the bed to collect her belongings she pauses, looking down at her cell phone and other personal items. Among them a business card for Valentine Wrestling Syndicate. The personal business card of Ana Valentine. Sarah takes the card betweeen her thumb and forefinger and looks at it for a long time. Still wrapped in the towel, she takes a seat on the bed, now placing her hands on her lap and staring almost blankly ahead in deep thought. After quite some time, she finally emerges from her trance and her inner thoughts and moves her hand alongside the bed, taking hold of her cell phone. She exhales softly before deciding to dial the number. There are a few rings before someone on the other end picks up.
Sarah: Well now ... it's been quite a while, hasn't it?
There is a brief pause as the person on the other end responds to Sarah. The Mistress of Mischief smirks heavily at whatever is being said and offers a response of her own.
Sarah: Oh I believe you know the reason I'm calling. Consider that offer accepted.
The conversation continues as we fade out here.
An Invitation To Evil - "Burying The Hatchet"
Las Vegas, Nevada
VWS Corporate Offices
Friday, May 13th 2016
2:44pm PST
If there was ever something to ponder about literature and fairy tales, it is the idea of good and evil. Hero and Villain. To look at Sarah Twilight, the first impulse you may find your thoughts trailing off toward was that her outward beauty was somehow indicative of her inner being. This was about as far from the truth as one could ever imagine. Looks can be decieving, and The Mistress of Mischief was living proof of that. It is then that for the first time on Valentine Wrestling Syndicate cameras we catch a glimpse of the stunning redhead in all of her glory. Black leather boots move in a confident swagger as the heels click sharply against the floor below. Navy blue denim jeans hug the curves of her toned calves and shapely hips. A matching jacket remains unbuttoned and brings its trim just above her waist line, complimenting her white crop top. Toned, tanned abs swivel in constant motion with her hips as she continues her stride assuredly. The flawless beauty looks to be in her mid twenties, and by the arrogance of her posture, she is well aware of her own pulchritude. Make-up of any kind is absent from her face which boasts its own, naturally flawless features. Deep emerald green eyes sparkle mischievously under the florescent lights of the lobby. Her gorgeous red locks flow elegantly around her shoulders, outlining the feautures of her face and settle midway down her back. A sterling silver necklace dangles from around her neck, prominently displaying a glistening silver pentacle charm. Sarah carries with her a medium sized duffel bag, slung over her shoulder as she moves through toward the main lobby of the top floor.
She is greeted with a motioning wave by a receptionist who sat behind a large oak desk that made up the forefront of the entire waiting area. Sarah blatantly ignores the woman's attempt at waving her over for a proper sign in log and begins down the corridor to where the main offices were located, including the CEO and of course Owner Ana Valentine's office. The Receptionist nearly has a heart attack as Sarah simply walks passed her and starts down the hall. The petite woman hops out of her seat and scurries after Sarah, pleading with the ostentatious redhead.
Receptionist: Wait! Wait you can't go back there!
She continues to try and catch up with Sarah as she calls out. The level of urgency in her tone is without question. Just as she catches up to the Mistress of Mischief, Sarah SNAPS around as she stops short and GLARES at the woman who staggers back and trips over herself from being so startled. She lets out a sharp moan as she lands directly on her ass. Sarah doesn't even entertain the idea of addressing the woman. Her piercing gaze was enough to say all that she needed. With the useless woman on her ass and no longer shadowing Sarah, the redhead turns back in the direction she was headed. The receptionist scrambles back to her feet with the most frightened of looks upon her face, screaming out for security as Sarah makes her way to the end of the hall finding the office door with a gold plate affixed to it that reads "Ana Valentine - Owner." Sarah turns the knob and pushes the door open as the receptionist now races down the hall in a last ditch attempt to stop her.
Receptionist: NO! STOP! YOU CAN'T!
Again she is ignored and Sarah walks right into the office where Ana Valentine is seated in a high back leather chair behind her enormous desk. Various paperwork is currently spread out across the desk and by the look of shock on Ana's face, she was obviously on an important call and not expecting to be interrupted. Noticing Sarah, Ana abruptly ends the call.
Ana Valentine: I'll have to call you back.
She hangs up the phone, looking rather annoyed. Meanwhile, Sarah has no issue with making herself comfortable. She takes a seat across from Ana in a rather comfortable, plush button back antique chair that was obviously reserved for the most important of Ana's clients. The smug redhead leans back as she drops the duffel bag beside the chair, interlocking her fingers as she places her hands behind her head and kicks both of her feet up onto the cherry stained wood of the desk. Ana sneers at the rude gesture. The receptionist rushes into the room just a few seconds behind Sarah and has a look of horror written across her face. She takes a brief moment to catch her breath as she meekly addresses Ana with an apologetic tone.
Receptionist: I am ... so sorry Mrs. Valentine ... I tried to stop her. I've called for security now.
Ana snarls at the woman and shakes her head with a bit of disgust as she waves her off.
Ana Valentine:You're fired.
The woman cries helplessly as she sinks into herself and reluctantly retreats from the office. Sarah barely glances at the pathetic, now jobless woman and shrugs without a care in the world for her plight. With the issue of her inept receptionist taken care of, Ana finally turns her attention to Sarah ... and she still isn't pleased by the offensive actions of her newest employee.
Ana Valentine:Don't you know how to knock?!
Sarah simply shrugs her shoulders, remaining confortable in the chair as she lets out a sigh of contentment. Ana is only further agitated by this behavior.
Ana Valentine: Our appointment isn't until three.
Granted, that was still some ten minutes away but the trviality of it was of no concern to Sarah who responds very bluntly to her new employer.
Sarah: Close enough.
Ana grits her teeth, already having put herself in a situation she wasn't entirely excited about by having Sarah Twilight here at all. Though she closes her eyes for a brief moment and puts that aside. It was a bit early, but she had in fact asked to meet with Sarah to discuss business matters so rather than dwell on the expected rudeness coming from Sarah, she decided to focus on business.
Ana Valentine: Alright whatever. The reason I asked you to come down here today was to go over some conditions of your contract. I want to make sure we're clear before you step foot in my ring.
Sarah rolls her eyes at Ana, shaking her head with a slight chuckle.
Sarah: What is there to go over? You pay me, I break your delicate little butterfly bitches ... and I go home. It doesn't get any easier than that.
Ana shakes her head at Sarah vehemently. The response is authoritive and with a firm tone.
Ana Valentine: No! This is why we're having this sit down. We don't do things that way around here. I'm not paying you to cripple my roster and I'm not going to allow that kinda shit. Are we clear?
Sarah flashes her pearly whites with a grin of defiance in an almost mocking gesture toward her new boss.
Sarah: We both know that is what I do. I hurt people ... that's not going to change for anyone. Not you, not any of your pop tart bitches. Nobody!
And clenches her fists and again grits her teeth. She glares at Sarah in a measure to make the redhead understand who was in charge around here.
Ana Valentine: Listen bitch, I don't like you ... and you fucking know it! This isn't the WCF ... you're not going to march around here doing whatever the hell you damn well please! This is my house that I have ALLOWED you to be in and you will do things MY way! I'm telling you now, if you try any of the shit that you're used to getting away with there is going to be hell to pay.
Sarah removes her hands from behind her head calmly. She once again interlocks her fingers together as she places her hands neatly over her lap. Her feet still outstretched comfortably as she smirks a bit.
Sarah: And just what do you actually think you're going to do to me? Are you going to put me in matches with three ... four of those powder puff retards at a time? Please. You know as well as I do I'll break every fucking one of them and stack them right here at your front door with a smile. You going to fine me? Suspend me? Do you really think I'm here for the paycheck? I'm here because you need me ... and you need me a LOT fucking more than I will ever need you. The sheep that line the seats filling your pockets ... that number has doubled and TRIPLED since I signed the dotted line. Don't play stupid with me, Ana. Those fucking morons don't want to see your delicate little flowers rolling around on the mat not knowing what the fuck they're doing. They want to see BLOOD! They want to watch a bitch SCREAM as her body is BROKEN and battered beyond recognition. Those people are buying tickets to see ME! You know it, and I know it.
Ana is staring a hole through Sarah as she listens to the redhead speak. Her anger boiling over with every passing second.
Sarah: You can try and pretend that you give a shit about the well being of that pathetic sack of shit group you call a roster ... but you don't, or I wouldn't be here. You don't give a single fuck about them and I know ... I know because I made you exactly what you are.
Ana stands up from her seat and looks FURIOUS. She even looks as if she might jump over the desk and slap the shit out of Sarah. This doesn't go unnoticed by the Mistress of Mischief who now chooses to stand as well, returning the icy stare right back to Ana.
Sarah: Truth hurt, does it? If you're going to do something about it ... fucking do it.
Ana fights the urge to punch Sarah right in the face. It is excrutiatingly difficult, but she manages.
Ana Valentine: I don't fucking need you and don't you ever fucking insult me like that again!
Sarah folds her arms across her chest smugly.
Sarah: Is that right? That little sweet, innocent, bleach blonde whore finally has a fucking backbone to go with her makeover. When did that all start for you Ana? After you had to get surgery on your legs because I hobbled you and left you a crippled mess? Or maybe it was after I set your ass on fire ... that about right? You look at me with whatever tough-girl face you wanna make but you knew exactly what was going to happen by bringing me here. I made you who you are ... all that rage inside of you festering over as we speak ... all that ambition ... this organization ... the fact that two NOBODIES like Kate Steele and Eliza Valentine can even compete here ... it's because of me.
Ana Valentine: Shut your mouth right fucking now!
Sarah laughs at her, knowing that the truth is a hard pill for her to swallow. Of course someone like Sarah, doesn't care about anyone but herself. Bringing this conversation to the forefront with Ana was actually enjoyable to her.
Sarah: Or what? That's right ... you aren't going to do a fucking thing. You have always envied me ... my success. But you aren't stupid either ... you know better than to walk that line with me. I'm sure it wouldn't be very good publicity for you if tomorrow's headlines read "Valentine sighs Sarah Twilight ... has her head caved in at her own desk."
Ana Valentine: You think I'm afraid of you?
Ana has had enough at this point and she does instinctively slap Sarah across the face. The vile and wicked redhead's face turns to the side and then snaps back to look at Ana. Her smirk disappears and her emerald green eyes darken to a deep, emotionless gaze of dark forest green. The expression upon her face is swirling with evil intent. Ana can't believe what she's just done but it was too late. However the VWS owner wasn't about to back down despite being stared at with daggers.
Ana Valentine: I told you not to fuck with me!
Sarah cracks her neck side to side and every thought in her head involved painting Ana's office with the VWS owner's own blood. Clenched fists and a tightened, sturdy stance would indicate that Sarah was mere seconds away from making one of these thoughts a reality. Instead, she smirks ... which comes as a surprise to Ana who was preparing herself for the fight of her life. Ana's heartrate drops as the adrenalin slows and her facial expression changes from a stern anger to one of confusion. Sarah leans over the desk, getting nose to nose with Valentine.
Sarah: So you DO have some fucking backbone. I hope we can say the same for your .... niece is it?
Sarah cackles evilly at the prospect of taking out her frustration with Ana on the younger Valentine. She calms down quite a bit actually and enters an almost euphoric state thinking about the violent, horrible things she would do to Eliza.
Sarah: For someone who despises me ... you sure as shit lined them up. A mediocre wrestler ... if I can even call Kate Steele a wrestler, who already had her ass handed to her by my tag team partner. And then, you've left your dear niece Eliza in the ring with me. Was that your plan to "tame" me? You think I'm going to go easy?
Sarah's laughter becomes almost maniacal at this point as she sinks back into the chair.
Sarah: I'm sure you'll do your best to stop me from setting the bitch on fire ... but what are you going to do when she's in that ring with me and I snap every fucking bone in her body? What are you going to do when I beat her to a fucking PULP?! I will break her and Kate ... I will tear their ligaments from bone and I will rip the very flesh from their muscle to make them suffer and there's not a damn fucking thing you can do about it!
The hideous monster of a human being that Sarah truly was, was coming to light. Ana sighs as deep down, she knew this already. She knew what she was doing when she sought after the legendary redhead. Somehow the risk was worth the reward. Ticket sales had skyrocketed, and Ana knew the reason sat there in front of her. Despite her hatred for Sarah, this was a good business decision to make. As Sarah continues to discuss the carnage she planned to inflict upon Eliza Valentine and Kate Steele ... a revelation suddenly hit her.
Sarah: That's it ... that's what it is. Oh that's just fucking wonderful. There's hope for you yet, Ana.
Ana furrows her brows and looks at Sarah even more puzzled than she had been before.
Ana Valentine: What the fuck are you talking about now?
Sarah: This isn't about me taking it easy on your pop tart niece ... you can't stand it can you? You can't stand to go down in the history books as the only Valentine to be MAIMED by me. That's it isn't it? You have been so consumed with trying to BE me ... so jealous, so fucking pathetically obsessed that you can't stand the idea that some ditzy reject bitch might actually end up more successful than you.
Sarah is laughing hysterically, finding the entire concept quite entertaining.
Sarah: You WANT me to break that bitch because then you can feel better about yourself knowing that you aren't the most disappointing bitch to carry the name Valentine. I bet you're getting wet thinking about it. Look at you! You can't hide this shit. Talk about fucked up ... you are putting that clueless waste of space and her equally pathetic friend in the ring with me so that I'll fucking END them.
Ana shakes her head, interrupting Sarah and asserting herself once again.
Ana Valentine: Don't you dare throw accusations and assumptions at me like that!
Sarah continues to speak as if Ana hadn't just said something to her.
Sarah: Don't worry ... after this Sunday ... you won't be the only Valentine who was ever hospitalized by yours truly. I guarantee you that much.
Ana Valentine: Are you fucking listening to a word I'm saying?
Sarah: Yeah, I get it ... your ditzy, talentless niece .... her talentless friend who's already had her ass kicked, placed in the ring with the most dangerous, most successful female wrestler in the world today ... and my partner Amber. The only thing that raises my curiosity is just how well you'll be able to handle hearing poor, little Eliza screaming, begging and pleading for mercy. Will you TRULY be able to watch her suffer? Are you actually ready for that? I know that she isn't ready ... no one here is. They don't even know what you've done to every last one of them and by the time they figure it out ... it'll be too late.
Ana was about to respond, but she wasn't even given the opportunity as Sarah quickly grabbed hold of her duffel bag and made her way back to the door. She pauses once and turns back to look at Ana with an eerily "innocent" look upon her face as she leave the VWS owner with one final comment which of course lacked any form of sincerity.
Sarah: Don't worry ... I'll try and make it as quick and painless as possible for them. After all ... first impressions are the lasting ones.
She winks before exiting the room leaving a stunned Ana behind. Valentine exhales and runs her hands through her hair as she takes in all that just occurred. But as she rests herself back into her seat she does something odd and unexpected. She smiles ... a rather coy smile at that.
Ana Valentine: I love it when everything comes together.
Her grin widens as she swivels back and forth in her chair seemingly with glee ... like a kid in a candy store. Indeed first impressions were lasting ... little did anyone in VWS realize just how lasting they would be. Everyone was about to be in for a wake up call ... one they may never recover from. We fade to black.
Perhaps that is why fairy tales exist? Outrageous stories of impossible feats. Heroes meeting certain peril, and somehow they manage to triumph in the end. Somehow, evil is vanquished and a happy ending is seen by all. I suppose these tales are meant to provide hope for those who have no meaning in life. Fabricated stories that serve no purpose other than to deceive the masses into a belief that in the end, the righteous will reap the rewards. That a happy ending awaits those who have done good for the benefit of humanity by simply lining in droves to become sheep. Yes sheep, willing to sacrifice their own opportunity to leave a significant mark upon this world, because that is what a practical society tells them.
It's really quite hilarious when you put it all into perspective. Each day the sheep are plagued by loss, by death, disease and suffering. The multitudes wallow in heartache and despair and yet they chose to hold onto hope. They chose to believe what they are indoctrinated with as children. They find false comfort in the idea that dreams are achieved through something as ridiculous as wishing upon a star. Perhaps they find solace inside of the myth that a guardian angel shall guide them through their miseries and lead them to the light at the end of the tunnel.
It is this deceit, the empty promise of reward for valiance that has been the downfall of man for ages. Fairy tales are just that .... tales. Happiness does not exist for those whom wait for it. Heroes are not always victorious, and evil is never always vanquished. For the only people who gather the spoils, are the ones who will take them for themselves. Victory is achieved through desire and not valor. Wealth is amassed through greed. And a hero is only a hero, if he is able to convince the masses of his deeds.
It is those who choose to do for themselves who shall be remembered. They are the ones who remain immortalized in the hearts and the minds of the world. Ironic, is it not? The masses of the insignificant flock to those that have taken what they've wanted from life. The unimportant always do. They long to be in the presence of someone who has achieved everything this world has to offer. Perhaps they do this in the hope that it would somehow make their own life more meaningful, just to have been around someone who's name indicates significance.
This ignorance ... this blind faith is what separates the predators from prey. The meek from the strong. These meaningless sheep who have been conditioned to accept whatever they are fed. They have looked but were blind and did not notice that the troff was full with meat and not grain, and that a wolf resided among them. In this very moment, each of the flock have written off their chance at their so-called happy ending as they waited for a hero to deliver them from their own turmoil.
Make what you will of this life, for I shall choose to write my own book.
~ Sarah Twilight
Los Angeles, California
Monday, May 9th 2016
3:15pm PST
Los Angeles is beautiful this time of year. Then again, Southern California almost always is. Palm trees basking in the cool breeze while the warmth of the sun keeps them perfectly content. In May, it wasn't unusual to see beach-goers, already enjoying the sandy beaches and legendary surf. At a nearly perfect seventy four degrees, who wouldn't enjoy it? Though when you get away from the crowds of the beach and the tourist trap that it is, you find serenity. The Hollywood Hills. The A-List suburb for the who's who of entertainment. Nestled quietly within one of the most densely forested areas in So-Cal, there at the end of the culdesac on Valevista Trail sat a two story luxury home that belongs to wrestling legend, Sarah Twilight. Beautiful pine trees flourish throughout the landscape. A pristine white gravel road leads up to the roundabout drive adjacent to the main entrance of the home. The drive decorated with an elegant flowing fountain as it's centerpiece. An enclosed deck overlooking part of the canyon can be seen on the east end of the home. And as our cameras take us on a panoramic view we are treated to the picturesque scenery of Sarah's in ground swimming pool. Crystal clear water heated to a very inviting seventy eight degrees. A hinted blue hue projected pleasantly to the eyes, partly from the base of the pool's interior and partly a reflection of the flawless blue, cloudless sky. An outdoor atrium surrounds the pool. Various native and exotic floral arrangements, plants and small trees create the scenic complexity of a true oasis. Hummingbirds and sparrows flock here to add to the natural beauty of Sarah's own personal paradise.
Just as we would have begun toward the home's interior and the splendors contained within, the water's edge begins to part with semicircular waves. Emerging from the cool breadth of the sparkling liquid is Sarah Twilight herself...in a way you would not expect to see a woman who is highly revered and likewise feared for her horrific mean streak. Her long, slender legs lead her petite feet onto the wooden deck surrounding the pool. As she steps out from the watery enclosure we are treated to a full view of the 'Mistress of Mischief'. A deep purple , small cut bikini covers her bottom, only secured to her hips by a thin string tied together on each end. Water glistens off of her toned naval as her hips sway sensuously in her confident swagger. Her bosom covered by a matching top, also small cut and tied in the back with a string. Emerald eyes sparkling in the haze of the sunlight peaking over the horizon. Her long, flowing locks of red hair set beautifully over her shoulders despite being waterlogged and flattened down. Tiny droplets of water roll down her toned and lightly tanned arms and body. Many of them collecting at her fingertips where they form small gleaming beads at the very tips of her fingernails before breaking away to make their final descent to the wooden deck below. Sarah's natural beauty is unmatched. Without the glossy facade of cosmetic products to hide and cover imperfections, she stands as the picture of beauty. Truth be told, there were no imperfections. She takes hold of a mauve cotton towel placed neatly on one of her sun lounge deck chairs and wipes the water away from her face. Only a few pats suffice. Just enough to clear away the excess.
Once she moves through the foyer and into the main living area, we can see two leather sofas perpendicular to one another and adding a partial enclosure for a beautifully smooth, intricately carved mahogany coffee table. The fine details illuminated by the shimmering radiance of the Waterford crystal chandelier hanging above. A spacious living quarters by any equation. Stunning hardwood lines the room flawlessly accenting the various bookshelves that served as the walls for this room's border. The casing also detailed in mahogany. A large flat panel high definition television stands about midway from the entry leading in from the foyer. It settles atop another mahogany piece. An entertainment unit that houses various other electronics. The many other variables within the room that can be detailed and highlighted to their utmost potential seem to fade into the background as most eyes would be cast upon Sarah, still in her very revealing swimwear. Though her moment of complete serenity is broken, along with the silence as her younger sister Rachel walks in from the kitchen, her car keys still in her hand.
Rachel was quite an attractive woman as well but with a much more reserved appearance. Her mousey brown hair was cut quite a bit shorter than Sarah's scarlet locks and Rachel's dark brown eyes were in contrast to Sarah's deep emerald green ones. She was shorter than Sarah by perhaps an inch but just as slender and in shape as her older sister. Rachel is wearing a pair of white capris with matching open toed sandals and a violet mid-drift top along with several bangled bracelets and a small, modest silver necklace with a heart shaped locket for the pendant. She glances at her older sister oddly as she addresses her.
Rachel: You look quite content for someone who has no idea what the future of her employment looks like.
Sarah tilts her head with a passive smirk as she notices her sister had let herself in. There had been quite the amount of concern for Sarah after news broke of the possible closure of WCF. The Mistress of Mischief clearly wasn't bothered by the situation.
Sarah: It's not as if I need the money.
Rachel sighs as she was never insinuating such a thing. Her concern was with how very seriously Sarah had always taken her career. The possibility that she may no longer have one ... it would be anyone's guess how Sarah would ultimately take that.
Rachel: I ... didn't mean it like that. Just ... what are you going to do?
Sarah shrugs her shoulders a bit as she reaches down toward the coffee table and retrieves the television remote, switching it on. She motions Rachel to the countertop in the kitchen where a folder was left open. Obviously Sarah had been looking it over prior to her swim.
Sarah: I have a few ... options.
Rachel turns back toward the kitchen and glances over the paperwork out of sheer curiousity. It doesn't take long before her jaw is agape and she looks back toward Sarah with a wild shock in her eyes.
Rachel: Are you NUTS?!
Sarah barely had gotten the chance to turn her attention to Rachel and realize that she wasn't happy with the information she'd seen before her younger sister begins lecturing her ... which seemed to be a normal thing in Sarah's life.
Rachel: Ana Valentine?! ANA VALENTINE?! Sarah ... what are you even thinking? After everything you've done to her ... you think it's a good idea to go and work for her? Please tell me you're not considering this?
Sarah very coyly flashes off a devilshly sexy smirk, accompanied by a wink.
Sarah: Maybe?
Rachel places her hands on her hips and lets out a very frustrated sigh.
Rachel: You tried to kill the girl, Sarah. You really think she's just going to welcome you into her organization with open arms?
The smirk upon Sarah's face curls into a full on grin at this point. A small simpering laugh even manages to escape her at the thought of that question.
Sarah: She's the one who sent me the offer. Granted ... I'm suspicious as fuck about it. But, I can't blame her for trying. I mean she did always want to be like me ...
Sarah scoffs at that very notion.
Sarah: I suppose having me on her roster is as close as she can get.
Rachel throws her hands up in disgust as she walks back into the living room.
Rachel: Are you even listening to yourself?! This whole thing ... it's insanity. You don't even know what's going to happen with WCF yet. Seth could call you tomorrow and then what?
Sarah nods, passively.
Sarah: He could ... or he could not. Listen, I'm not going to sit on my ass and wait. Do you know how many organizations would KILL to have me? People aren't stupid, they know how much their market value rises even MENTIONING my name. Look at what WCF did to get me back in the first place.
Rachel actually agrees with her sister on this aspect, but of course uses that very measure to retort.
Rachel: EXACTLY! So why the hell would you go and work for Ana? You can go anywhere you want ... why throw fuel on that fire again?
The irony of Rachel's final statement is lost on her ... but it certainly garners a chuckle out of Sarah, who casually saunters over to the kitchen countertop and retrieves the paperwork from Valentine Wrestling Syndicate that had been sent to her. She shuffles through a few pages before she finds what she was looking for. Heading back towards Rachel, she flips the page to face her sister and smirks heavily.
Sarah: Call it ... knowing some familiar faces. Perhaps it's that a few of us from WCF are considering it ... or perhaps ... it's because THAT is what I am being offered for a simple two year contract.
Rachel's eyes go wide as she looks at the numbers on the page. She then looks back at Sarah with some confusion.
Rachel: You yourself just said you don't need the money. I mean yes, that is a LOT of money. But ...
Sarah: But the fact that people are willing to pay me those numbers to appear on their programs IS important to me. The very fact that Ana Valentine ... a girl I nearly ENDED as you already pointed out ... would pay me that much to draw me in. That speaks volumes. Sure, there are comparable offers. But ya know sis ... I actually like walking back into the fire. What the fuck is the point of all that money if I don't get to have any fun?
Rachel places her hand over her forehead and is very distraught over Sarah's entire attitude towards such a situation.
Rachel: I ... I just don't know anymore with you. I can't tell you what to do with your life, but I will tell you that going to work for Ana Valentine is a very bad idea.
Sarah shrugs once again as she non chalantly places the page back down on the counter. In all honesty, she hadn't made her decision yet on whether she was going to work for the VWS. This conversation however, was tempting her to do just that.
Sarah: Perhaps it is a very bad idea. But we both know ... it will only be bad for everyone else. If Ana truly wants my name on the marquee of her organization ... then she knows she is opening Pandora's Box and she .. along with every last one of her employees will have to suffer the consequence of that. Anyhow ... I need a shower. I currently have no obligation to anyone, and I am taking this time to enjoy myself.
Rachel doesn't say another word. The look in her eyes says it all. She is very disappointed and somewhat heartbroken that Sarah once again chooses to take the path of most resistance. Not because she felt the need to challenge herself ... but because for whatever reason, Sarah enjoyed the chaos. Rachel had long ago come to terms with the fact that Sarah's chest contained a dark, black mass where her heart had once been. But there was always hope that this would change. On this day, that hope had been snuffed out once more. Slowly, and solemnly, Rachel makes her way through the foyer and exits Sarah's home. Momentarily we fade out.
Running water. The sound is unmistakable as once again images begin to take shape before our eyes. Just beyond the frosted glass panes of a shower door, the blurred outline of naked flesh is barely visible. Red pigmentation meanders its way through the opacity of the door's cover, indicating that our very own Sarah Twilight stood behind the distorted barrier. The sound of knobs turning can be heard. The steady steam of water comes to a slow drip, and finally a complete halt. The chlorine from the pool having been washed from her body, Sarah takes the towel from above the folding of the shower's door frame. After a few moments of using the cloth to remove the water from her perfect body, she emerges from the enclosed shower, the towel being the only thing covering her. Tucked just above her breasts and barely covering her bottom, the towel's trim rests at her upper thigh line. She steps out from the bathroom and into the hallway, still covered only in a towel. Her red hair frizzy after a vigorous effort to dry the lovely locks with her towel. Just across the hall was the master bedroom, where a fresh set of clothing and a hair dryer awaited her.
As she approaches the bed to collect her belongings she pauses, looking down at her cell phone and other personal items. Among them a business card for Valentine Wrestling Syndicate. The personal business card of Ana Valentine. Sarah takes the card betweeen her thumb and forefinger and looks at it for a long time. Still wrapped in the towel, she takes a seat on the bed, now placing her hands on her lap and staring almost blankly ahead in deep thought. After quite some time, she finally emerges from her trance and her inner thoughts and moves her hand alongside the bed, taking hold of her cell phone. She exhales softly before deciding to dial the number. There are a few rings before someone on the other end picks up.
Sarah: Well now ... it's been quite a while, hasn't it?
There is a brief pause as the person on the other end responds to Sarah. The Mistress of Mischief smirks heavily at whatever is being said and offers a response of her own.
Sarah: Oh I believe you know the reason I'm calling. Consider that offer accepted.
The conversation continues as we fade out here.
An Invitation To Evil - "Burying The Hatchet"
Las Vegas, Nevada
VWS Corporate Offices
Friday, May 13th 2016
2:44pm PST
If there was ever something to ponder about literature and fairy tales, it is the idea of good and evil. Hero and Villain. To look at Sarah Twilight, the first impulse you may find your thoughts trailing off toward was that her outward beauty was somehow indicative of her inner being. This was about as far from the truth as one could ever imagine. Looks can be decieving, and The Mistress of Mischief was living proof of that. It is then that for the first time on Valentine Wrestling Syndicate cameras we catch a glimpse of the stunning redhead in all of her glory. Black leather boots move in a confident swagger as the heels click sharply against the floor below. Navy blue denim jeans hug the curves of her toned calves and shapely hips. A matching jacket remains unbuttoned and brings its trim just above her waist line, complimenting her white crop top. Toned, tanned abs swivel in constant motion with her hips as she continues her stride assuredly. The flawless beauty looks to be in her mid twenties, and by the arrogance of her posture, she is well aware of her own pulchritude. Make-up of any kind is absent from her face which boasts its own, naturally flawless features. Deep emerald green eyes sparkle mischievously under the florescent lights of the lobby. Her gorgeous red locks flow elegantly around her shoulders, outlining the feautures of her face and settle midway down her back. A sterling silver necklace dangles from around her neck, prominently displaying a glistening silver pentacle charm. Sarah carries with her a medium sized duffel bag, slung over her shoulder as she moves through toward the main lobby of the top floor.
She is greeted with a motioning wave by a receptionist who sat behind a large oak desk that made up the forefront of the entire waiting area. Sarah blatantly ignores the woman's attempt at waving her over for a proper sign in log and begins down the corridor to where the main offices were located, including the CEO and of course Owner Ana Valentine's office. The Receptionist nearly has a heart attack as Sarah simply walks passed her and starts down the hall. The petite woman hops out of her seat and scurries after Sarah, pleading with the ostentatious redhead.
Receptionist: Wait! Wait you can't go back there!
She continues to try and catch up with Sarah as she calls out. The level of urgency in her tone is without question. Just as she catches up to the Mistress of Mischief, Sarah SNAPS around as she stops short and GLARES at the woman who staggers back and trips over herself from being so startled. She lets out a sharp moan as she lands directly on her ass. Sarah doesn't even entertain the idea of addressing the woman. Her piercing gaze was enough to say all that she needed. With the useless woman on her ass and no longer shadowing Sarah, the redhead turns back in the direction she was headed. The receptionist scrambles back to her feet with the most frightened of looks upon her face, screaming out for security as Sarah makes her way to the end of the hall finding the office door with a gold plate affixed to it that reads "Ana Valentine - Owner." Sarah turns the knob and pushes the door open as the receptionist now races down the hall in a last ditch attempt to stop her.
Receptionist: NO! STOP! YOU CAN'T!
Again she is ignored and Sarah walks right into the office where Ana Valentine is seated in a high back leather chair behind her enormous desk. Various paperwork is currently spread out across the desk and by the look of shock on Ana's face, she was obviously on an important call and not expecting to be interrupted. Noticing Sarah, Ana abruptly ends the call.
Ana Valentine: I'll have to call you back.
She hangs up the phone, looking rather annoyed. Meanwhile, Sarah has no issue with making herself comfortable. She takes a seat across from Ana in a rather comfortable, plush button back antique chair that was obviously reserved for the most important of Ana's clients. The smug redhead leans back as she drops the duffel bag beside the chair, interlocking her fingers as she places her hands behind her head and kicks both of her feet up onto the cherry stained wood of the desk. Ana sneers at the rude gesture. The receptionist rushes into the room just a few seconds behind Sarah and has a look of horror written across her face. She takes a brief moment to catch her breath as she meekly addresses Ana with an apologetic tone.
Receptionist: I am ... so sorry Mrs. Valentine ... I tried to stop her. I've called for security now.
Ana snarls at the woman and shakes her head with a bit of disgust as she waves her off.
Ana Valentine:You're fired.
The woman cries helplessly as she sinks into herself and reluctantly retreats from the office. Sarah barely glances at the pathetic, now jobless woman and shrugs without a care in the world for her plight. With the issue of her inept receptionist taken care of, Ana finally turns her attention to Sarah ... and she still isn't pleased by the offensive actions of her newest employee.
Ana Valentine:Don't you know how to knock?!
Sarah simply shrugs her shoulders, remaining confortable in the chair as she lets out a sigh of contentment. Ana is only further agitated by this behavior.
Ana Valentine: Our appointment isn't until three.
Granted, that was still some ten minutes away but the trviality of it was of no concern to Sarah who responds very bluntly to her new employer.
Sarah: Close enough.
Ana grits her teeth, already having put herself in a situation she wasn't entirely excited about by having Sarah Twilight here at all. Though she closes her eyes for a brief moment and puts that aside. It was a bit early, but she had in fact asked to meet with Sarah to discuss business matters so rather than dwell on the expected rudeness coming from Sarah, she decided to focus on business.
Ana Valentine: Alright whatever. The reason I asked you to come down here today was to go over some conditions of your contract. I want to make sure we're clear before you step foot in my ring.
Sarah rolls her eyes at Ana, shaking her head with a slight chuckle.
Sarah: What is there to go over? You pay me, I break your delicate little butterfly bitches ... and I go home. It doesn't get any easier than that.
Ana shakes her head at Sarah vehemently. The response is authoritive and with a firm tone.
Ana Valentine: No! This is why we're having this sit down. We don't do things that way around here. I'm not paying you to cripple my roster and I'm not going to allow that kinda shit. Are we clear?
Sarah flashes her pearly whites with a grin of defiance in an almost mocking gesture toward her new boss.
Sarah: We both know that is what I do. I hurt people ... that's not going to change for anyone. Not you, not any of your pop tart bitches. Nobody!
And clenches her fists and again grits her teeth. She glares at Sarah in a measure to make the redhead understand who was in charge around here.
Ana Valentine: Listen bitch, I don't like you ... and you fucking know it! This isn't the WCF ... you're not going to march around here doing whatever the hell you damn well please! This is my house that I have ALLOWED you to be in and you will do things MY way! I'm telling you now, if you try any of the shit that you're used to getting away with there is going to be hell to pay.
Sarah removes her hands from behind her head calmly. She once again interlocks her fingers together as she places her hands neatly over her lap. Her feet still outstretched comfortably as she smirks a bit.
Sarah: And just what do you actually think you're going to do to me? Are you going to put me in matches with three ... four of those powder puff retards at a time? Please. You know as well as I do I'll break every fucking one of them and stack them right here at your front door with a smile. You going to fine me? Suspend me? Do you really think I'm here for the paycheck? I'm here because you need me ... and you need me a LOT fucking more than I will ever need you. The sheep that line the seats filling your pockets ... that number has doubled and TRIPLED since I signed the dotted line. Don't play stupid with me, Ana. Those fucking morons don't want to see your delicate little flowers rolling around on the mat not knowing what the fuck they're doing. They want to see BLOOD! They want to watch a bitch SCREAM as her body is BROKEN and battered beyond recognition. Those people are buying tickets to see ME! You know it, and I know it.
Ana is staring a hole through Sarah as she listens to the redhead speak. Her anger boiling over with every passing second.
Sarah: You can try and pretend that you give a shit about the well being of that pathetic sack of shit group you call a roster ... but you don't, or I wouldn't be here. You don't give a single fuck about them and I know ... I know because I made you exactly what you are.
Ana stands up from her seat and looks FURIOUS. She even looks as if she might jump over the desk and slap the shit out of Sarah. This doesn't go unnoticed by the Mistress of Mischief who now chooses to stand as well, returning the icy stare right back to Ana.
Sarah: Truth hurt, does it? If you're going to do something about it ... fucking do it.
Ana fights the urge to punch Sarah right in the face. It is excrutiatingly difficult, but she manages.
Ana Valentine: I don't fucking need you and don't you ever fucking insult me like that again!
Sarah folds her arms across her chest smugly.
Sarah: Is that right? That little sweet, innocent, bleach blonde whore finally has a fucking backbone to go with her makeover. When did that all start for you Ana? After you had to get surgery on your legs because I hobbled you and left you a crippled mess? Or maybe it was after I set your ass on fire ... that about right? You look at me with whatever tough-girl face you wanna make but you knew exactly what was going to happen by bringing me here. I made you who you are ... all that rage inside of you festering over as we speak ... all that ambition ... this organization ... the fact that two NOBODIES like Kate Steele and Eliza Valentine can even compete here ... it's because of me.
Ana Valentine: Shut your mouth right fucking now!
Sarah laughs at her, knowing that the truth is a hard pill for her to swallow. Of course someone like Sarah, doesn't care about anyone but herself. Bringing this conversation to the forefront with Ana was actually enjoyable to her.
Sarah: Or what? That's right ... you aren't going to do a fucking thing. You have always envied me ... my success. But you aren't stupid either ... you know better than to walk that line with me. I'm sure it wouldn't be very good publicity for you if tomorrow's headlines read "Valentine sighs Sarah Twilight ... has her head caved in at her own desk."
Ana Valentine: You think I'm afraid of you?
Ana has had enough at this point and she does instinctively slap Sarah across the face. The vile and wicked redhead's face turns to the side and then snaps back to look at Ana. Her smirk disappears and her emerald green eyes darken to a deep, emotionless gaze of dark forest green. The expression upon her face is swirling with evil intent. Ana can't believe what she's just done but it was too late. However the VWS owner wasn't about to back down despite being stared at with daggers.
Ana Valentine: I told you not to fuck with me!
Sarah cracks her neck side to side and every thought in her head involved painting Ana's office with the VWS owner's own blood. Clenched fists and a tightened, sturdy stance would indicate that Sarah was mere seconds away from making one of these thoughts a reality. Instead, she smirks ... which comes as a surprise to Ana who was preparing herself for the fight of her life. Ana's heartrate drops as the adrenalin slows and her facial expression changes from a stern anger to one of confusion. Sarah leans over the desk, getting nose to nose with Valentine.
Sarah: So you DO have some fucking backbone. I hope we can say the same for your .... niece is it?
Sarah cackles evilly at the prospect of taking out her frustration with Ana on the younger Valentine. She calms down quite a bit actually and enters an almost euphoric state thinking about the violent, horrible things she would do to Eliza.
Sarah: For someone who despises me ... you sure as shit lined them up. A mediocre wrestler ... if I can even call Kate Steele a wrestler, who already had her ass handed to her by my tag team partner. And then, you've left your dear niece Eliza in the ring with me. Was that your plan to "tame" me? You think I'm going to go easy?
Sarah's laughter becomes almost maniacal at this point as she sinks back into the chair.
Sarah: I'm sure you'll do your best to stop me from setting the bitch on fire ... but what are you going to do when she's in that ring with me and I snap every fucking bone in her body? What are you going to do when I beat her to a fucking PULP?! I will break her and Kate ... I will tear their ligaments from bone and I will rip the very flesh from their muscle to make them suffer and there's not a damn fucking thing you can do about it!
The hideous monster of a human being that Sarah truly was, was coming to light. Ana sighs as deep down, she knew this already. She knew what she was doing when she sought after the legendary redhead. Somehow the risk was worth the reward. Ticket sales had skyrocketed, and Ana knew the reason sat there in front of her. Despite her hatred for Sarah, this was a good business decision to make. As Sarah continues to discuss the carnage she planned to inflict upon Eliza Valentine and Kate Steele ... a revelation suddenly hit her.
Sarah: That's it ... that's what it is. Oh that's just fucking wonderful. There's hope for you yet, Ana.
Ana furrows her brows and looks at Sarah even more puzzled than she had been before.
Ana Valentine: What the fuck are you talking about now?
Sarah: This isn't about me taking it easy on your pop tart niece ... you can't stand it can you? You can't stand to go down in the history books as the only Valentine to be MAIMED by me. That's it isn't it? You have been so consumed with trying to BE me ... so jealous, so fucking pathetically obsessed that you can't stand the idea that some ditzy reject bitch might actually end up more successful than you.
Sarah is laughing hysterically, finding the entire concept quite entertaining.
Sarah: You WANT me to break that bitch because then you can feel better about yourself knowing that you aren't the most disappointing bitch to carry the name Valentine. I bet you're getting wet thinking about it. Look at you! You can't hide this shit. Talk about fucked up ... you are putting that clueless waste of space and her equally pathetic friend in the ring with me so that I'll fucking END them.
Ana shakes her head, interrupting Sarah and asserting herself once again.
Ana Valentine: Don't you dare throw accusations and assumptions at me like that!
Sarah continues to speak as if Ana hadn't just said something to her.
Sarah: Don't worry ... after this Sunday ... you won't be the only Valentine who was ever hospitalized by yours truly. I guarantee you that much.
Ana Valentine: Are you fucking listening to a word I'm saying?
Sarah: Yeah, I get it ... your ditzy, talentless niece .... her talentless friend who's already had her ass kicked, placed in the ring with the most dangerous, most successful female wrestler in the world today ... and my partner Amber. The only thing that raises my curiosity is just how well you'll be able to handle hearing poor, little Eliza screaming, begging and pleading for mercy. Will you TRULY be able to watch her suffer? Are you actually ready for that? I know that she isn't ready ... no one here is. They don't even know what you've done to every last one of them and by the time they figure it out ... it'll be too late.
Ana was about to respond, but she wasn't even given the opportunity as Sarah quickly grabbed hold of her duffel bag and made her way back to the door. She pauses once and turns back to look at Ana with an eerily "innocent" look upon her face as she leave the VWS owner with one final comment which of course lacked any form of sincerity.
Sarah: Don't worry ... I'll try and make it as quick and painless as possible for them. After all ... first impressions are the lasting ones.
She winks before exiting the room leaving a stunned Ana behind. Valentine exhales and runs her hands through her hair as she takes in all that just occurred. But as she rests herself back into her seat she does something odd and unexpected. She smiles ... a rather coy smile at that.
Ana Valentine: I love it when everything comes together.
Her grin widens as she swivels back and forth in her chair seemingly with glee ... like a kid in a candy store. Indeed first impressions were lasting ... little did anyone in VWS realize just how lasting they would be. Everyone was about to be in for a wake up call ... one they may never recover from. We fade to black.
