Post by Admin on Nov 7, 2021 23:44:51 GMT
Strader-Estate/Compound
Houston, Texas USA
November 6th, 2021
Meghan sits on the bottom step of the left side staircase in the front foyer of House#2, which was dubbed the Whitehouse being it was two storeys tall and painted white, but she was a nervous wreck. Victoria wanted to leave as soon as the match was over, get on the road back to Texas, and train for the following show against Vicky Stone. Victoria had been quiet the whole way back to Texas, which made for a long trip. Meghan knew something wasn’t right with her kid, and she had been starting to worry. She hadn’t been right since things ended with the vile Greek, and Meghan knew that kind of pain. It’s from an emotional wound, one that can fester and create a rot so deep nothing one can do to fix it. While Meghan was sitting and trying to figure out how to help the young Strader-Knox, Victoria was out back behind the house that stood a building her grandfather had erected two years ago, giving her aunt and mom a ring to shake the rust off. She stood in the doorway and was looking at the ring.
“I can still see them.”
“Just let me take over.”
She stands there for a moment before finally walking up towards the ring. Along the side of the wall directly across from the doorway that she had been standing in was a weights area. She walked alongside the mirror, afraid to look because she knew Veronica would be staring right back. She sits down on a benchpress staring at her feet before looking up and seeing the scarred face of Veronica frowning at her.
“What in the f&*^ was that in West Virginia? We should be sitting pretty in the semi-finals, but here we are with our first loss among all your other ‘firsts’,” Veronica spat the words, and what could Victoria do? Veronica was right; she gave a lacklustre performance and showed how much of a rookie she is.
“I-I-I--” Victoria stutters her words.
“T-T-T-Today, junior!”
Victoria’s tear-filled eyes look up at her doppelganger, which is just shaking her head.
“I didn’t get the job done; I gave a terrible performance… I’m never going to get over this hump. I am destined to be a devastating failure. I don’t deserve either of my last names,” she says, the unmistakable sounds of defeat in the cracking voice of Victoria.
“Come on, Vee, time to let this Vee takeover. I can look after you better than you have ever been. Just drop that wall afoot, and Mama Vee will jump it,” the doppelganger-Vee says.
Victoria, sobbing, shakes her head no. Veronica, with her hands on her hips, sighs loudly.
“You brought this onto yourself.”
Before Victoria can ask, she’s on her feet, and a split second later, she looks to have thrown herself into the mirror as it shatters, and she falls to the ground covered in glass. She starts to get up, trying not to cut her hands open while doing so. Her right arm goes over her head, and she grabs onto the back of the green turtle neck she has on afoot, and she appears to throw herself into the weight rack cause a huge sound to echo out through the training centre.
“I told you, let me take over!”
Victoria can’t respond, and now it’s her left arm over her head grabbing onto the collar, and she is rammed headfirst into the ring post, the ding of her head hitting the middle rings through her head and the gym as she collapses to her knees, blood pouring from her skull. She spits out a wad of blood that has pooled in her mouth, grateful a tooth didn’t come with it.
“Please… stop,” she quietly pleas as the blood continues to pour out of her skull and mouth.
“There’s only one way to make it stop, and you know exactly what that is, Victoria,” the evil personality responds. “You can make all of this go away. You just need to relinquish the proverbial keys. Do it, Victoria, escape the pains of failure, of disappointment, that feeling of loneliness, not feeling like you are worth it… leave it all behind. Veronica can and will protect,” the alter ego is trying her hardest to get Victoria to let go, but she isn’t a pushover that some have come to believe since her last relationship ended.
Victoria starts to pull herself up by the ring apron, but as she stands, her right-hand grabs herself by the ponytail smashes her face four times, blood splattering all over the ring mat. She falls down to her butt, her head wavering; she can’t take much more punishment.
“Don’t you dare pass out on me! Goddamn it Victoria!,” Veronica yells, but no one can hear the voice in Victoria’s head except the two of them.
Victoria wasn’t sure how long she was out for, but she woke up in her old bedroom in the Whitehouse. She can feel that she has been cleaned up and notices bandages on her hands. She reaches over to the nightstand and grabs her iPhone 13 Pro, and turns on the camera so she can look at her face. She has a couple of stitch bandaids over her right eye, her bottom lip is fat, and out of the corner of her eye, she catches a look at the bloody clothes she had been wearing. She goes to sit up, but a bit of a dizzy spell almost makes her fall backwards. Meghan knocks on the door, lightly pushing it open to see her daughter sitting still, staring at the piles of clothes.
“Hey babe, how are you feeling?” she asks her firstborn as she comes into the room. She sits down on the side of the bed with Vee, and the look of concern couldn’t be any more evident than it is now.
“Don’t you say a word; they’ll lock us up at the nuthouse.”
“It’s mom. She’d understand.”
“Don’t make me throw us out of the window. It’s only the second floor not too much would break… try talking your way out of that one!!”
“Alright, alright.”
“Yeah, just a little sore,” she replies quietly, purposely not looking in her mom’s eyes.
“What happened in the gym outback? Did someone attack you?” she asks, carefully watching Vee’s body language.
“No, I umm.”
“You can’t remember; hurry up before she gets more suspicious!”
“I don’t know, I was walking around outback, decided to do some stamina exercises, and next thing I know, I am here in bed, cleaned up and bandaged,” she answers her mother with a full-on lie, but she didn’t know how to tell anyone there was another person in her head.
“Well, Dustin is here, and he brought your brother and sister; I know they would love to see their big sister. We are having pizza. Stuffed Crust with extra cheese,” Meghan says with a smile. She knows her daughter is lying, but she wasn’t going to push it just yet. The time will come, is what she tells herself but by then? It’ll be way too late.
Strader Estate-Compound
Houston, Texas USA
November 7th, 2021
“Hey, wake up! You have a contractual obligation to Thunder Pro! Up and at’em!”
“I’m up. Geez. Man, it does suck having you as an alarm clock.”
Victoria was starting to get used to having someone inside her, but she definitely hasn’t gotten used to the other side being able to randomly control her limbs and body. It’s never for very long which our young Strader-Knox is thankful for. She is wearing a pink robe that her ex-girlfriend, Maxine Riggs, had given her for her 19th birthday and just a pair of socks. The last girlfriend of hers had slept naked, and she has fallen into that habit as well. After a hot shower, a bit of foundation, and light eyeshadow to cover the bruises from her alter-ego took control and tossed her all around the Strader training centre; she is ready to find Harold and shoot a promotional video. She was content with the fact that no one had bothered to make a big deal out of it, but she was fooling herself; Meghan, her mother, knew her firstborn was going through a change, and from what the family could see, they knew she was heading down the same road as her cousins, Supreme Machine and Queenie J.
“Where should we film this, Vee?”
“Training centre, time for a history lesson.”
“Fine, but I am going for a ride first. My Arch arrived last week.”
She ordered a new motorcycle when Tony Savage had worked a deal giving every OCW roster member an extra 35,000 USD, and she used that to purchase a custom KRGT-1 Arch. It was a solo riding bike for long-distance rides or rugged trails. She puts on her custom bare minimum and barely legal silver helmet along with her rose-coloured Aviator riding glasses. She kicked it over, and the custom-tuned Arch-engine roared to life. Her left foot kicks it into gear, and she does a burn peeling out of the compound.
Later that day…
Victoria stands in the middle of the squared circle as everyone’s favourite opiate-addicted escort lovin’ cameraperson Harold is standing in the corner far corner of the ring from VSK.
“Whenever you are ready, Miss Strader-Knox,” he says with a sheepish grin on his face.
“You can call me Vee, Harold. I’ll leave Miss Strader-Knox for the authorities,” she replies as Harold chuckles, thinking about the time he was buck naked with ladies of the evening and a blow-up sheep that was a joke. Vee is wearing what she had on earlier minus the jean jacket; her hair is pulled back tight into a ponytail and nods to Harold that she is ready.
~ START TRANSMISSION ~
After fifteen seconds of advertisement for the upcoming Friday Night Fury, the one that Victoria will be focusing on, she stands in the middle of our screens and the ring with a smile, but it was forced for us, the viewer. She was disappointed in her performance on the debut, even though she shouldn’t be.
“Hi guys, so listen, I Ummm… On a night of firsts, you could say I was able to get a first of sorts. I got the first loss in the main event last week, even. Well, it’s technically still this week, but I try to be the early bird and all those cliched phrases. I was thankfully not to be the first loss on the show,” she says to us with a shrug. “Plus, to be honest, I haven’t been doing all that well mentally and emotionally. I was used as a stepping stone, not just by Drew a couple of nights ago… I was also a stepping stone to the Goddess and Dr. Hibert, master of the inappropriate laugh. Yeah, I have Disney+. I have seen the early episodes. Or maybe I was a layover; either way, I am still standing, better than I ever did.”
Victoria brings her right hand, placing it on her forehead. After a few seconds, there’s a grin we have never seen before. Even her tone is of absolute confidence.
“I let myself, Vee Strader-Knox, down on Friday, and that’s never gonna happen again. You are looking at the new and approved Vee,” she seethes at the word ‘Vee’. “Vicky Stone, it is you that stands in my way. I know you are all about the fun. Did you know some fun happened right here? Yep just over there,” she says, pointing to the corner turnbuckle on her right, “is where Scott Nash Strader bent over Maxine Riggs, showing her the fifty states and maybe a few Canadian Provinces. Lovely image, isn’t it? You should’ve seen it live, the amount of clapping on those cheeks you would have thought he was getting a standing ovation, if not her moans were Oscar Worthy.”
She spits on the mat and walks to Harold, holding out her hand motioning for a cigarette. He pulls out a fresh pack of Camel's Lights and hands them to the woman who pays him for this job, but Victoria doesn’t smoke…right? She quickly lights the brown-tipped death stick like she’s been smoking for ten years. A drag so deep it touches the bottom of her lungs. She looks at that cigarette with that Strader sneer.
“Been too long. Anyway, where was I? Ahh, right. To think missed opportunities by gramps now overshadow the place I initially trained, The place I’m going to train for our match, Vicky. You and I are destined to dance in that ring. I know you have the same plan outcome as me, and that’s winning, but no one needs it more than I do. I need to change this trajectory I have allowed us to fall upon.”
Us?
“Come Friday Night Fury. I will remove all your clever puns and cliches and expose you to all the world to see. After all, the greatest trick ever played was the devil convincing us she doesn’t exist. Welcome to my Fury, Vicky. I truly wish it was anyone but you.”
Our screen fades to a Thunder Pro Wrestling advert for Friday Night Fury and the sneer that we should be used to, but this one just hits differently.
~ END TRANSMISSION ~
Houston, Texas USA
November 6th, 2021
Meghan sits on the bottom step of the left side staircase in the front foyer of House#2, which was dubbed the Whitehouse being it was two storeys tall and painted white, but she was a nervous wreck. Victoria wanted to leave as soon as the match was over, get on the road back to Texas, and train for the following show against Vicky Stone. Victoria had been quiet the whole way back to Texas, which made for a long trip. Meghan knew something wasn’t right with her kid, and she had been starting to worry. She hadn’t been right since things ended with the vile Greek, and Meghan knew that kind of pain. It’s from an emotional wound, one that can fester and create a rot so deep nothing one can do to fix it. While Meghan was sitting and trying to figure out how to help the young Strader-Knox, Victoria was out back behind the house that stood a building her grandfather had erected two years ago, giving her aunt and mom a ring to shake the rust off. She stood in the doorway and was looking at the ring.
“I can still see them.”
“Just let me take over.”
She stands there for a moment before finally walking up towards the ring. Along the side of the wall directly across from the doorway that she had been standing in was a weights area. She walked alongside the mirror, afraid to look because she knew Veronica would be staring right back. She sits down on a benchpress staring at her feet before looking up and seeing the scarred face of Veronica frowning at her.
“What in the f&*^ was that in West Virginia? We should be sitting pretty in the semi-finals, but here we are with our first loss among all your other ‘firsts’,” Veronica spat the words, and what could Victoria do? Veronica was right; she gave a lacklustre performance and showed how much of a rookie she is.
“I-I-I--” Victoria stutters her words.
“T-T-T-Today, junior!”
Victoria’s tear-filled eyes look up at her doppelganger, which is just shaking her head.
“I didn’t get the job done; I gave a terrible performance… I’m never going to get over this hump. I am destined to be a devastating failure. I don’t deserve either of my last names,” she says, the unmistakable sounds of defeat in the cracking voice of Victoria.
“Come on, Vee, time to let this Vee takeover. I can look after you better than you have ever been. Just drop that wall afoot, and Mama Vee will jump it,” the doppelganger-Vee says.
Victoria, sobbing, shakes her head no. Veronica, with her hands on her hips, sighs loudly.
“You brought this onto yourself.”
Before Victoria can ask, she’s on her feet, and a split second later, she looks to have thrown herself into the mirror as it shatters, and she falls to the ground covered in glass. She starts to get up, trying not to cut her hands open while doing so. Her right arm goes over her head, and she grabs onto the back of the green turtle neck she has on afoot, and she appears to throw herself into the weight rack cause a huge sound to echo out through the training centre.
“I told you, let me take over!”
Victoria can’t respond, and now it’s her left arm over her head grabbing onto the collar, and she is rammed headfirst into the ring post, the ding of her head hitting the middle rings through her head and the gym as she collapses to her knees, blood pouring from her skull. She spits out a wad of blood that has pooled in her mouth, grateful a tooth didn’t come with it.
“Please… stop,” she quietly pleas as the blood continues to pour out of her skull and mouth.
“There’s only one way to make it stop, and you know exactly what that is, Victoria,” the evil personality responds. “You can make all of this go away. You just need to relinquish the proverbial keys. Do it, Victoria, escape the pains of failure, of disappointment, that feeling of loneliness, not feeling like you are worth it… leave it all behind. Veronica can and will protect,” the alter ego is trying her hardest to get Victoria to let go, but she isn’t a pushover that some have come to believe since her last relationship ended.
Victoria starts to pull herself up by the ring apron, but as she stands, her right-hand grabs herself by the ponytail smashes her face four times, blood splattering all over the ring mat. She falls down to her butt, her head wavering; she can’t take much more punishment.
“Don’t you dare pass out on me! Goddamn it Victoria!,” Veronica yells, but no one can hear the voice in Victoria’s head except the two of them.
Victoria wasn’t sure how long she was out for, but she woke up in her old bedroom in the Whitehouse. She can feel that she has been cleaned up and notices bandages on her hands. She reaches over to the nightstand and grabs her iPhone 13 Pro, and turns on the camera so she can look at her face. She has a couple of stitch bandaids over her right eye, her bottom lip is fat, and out of the corner of her eye, she catches a look at the bloody clothes she had been wearing. She goes to sit up, but a bit of a dizzy spell almost makes her fall backwards. Meghan knocks on the door, lightly pushing it open to see her daughter sitting still, staring at the piles of clothes.
“Hey babe, how are you feeling?” she asks her firstborn as she comes into the room. She sits down on the side of the bed with Vee, and the look of concern couldn’t be any more evident than it is now.
“Don’t you say a word; they’ll lock us up at the nuthouse.”
“It’s mom. She’d understand.”
“Don’t make me throw us out of the window. It’s only the second floor not too much would break… try talking your way out of that one!!”
“Alright, alright.”
“Yeah, just a little sore,” she replies quietly, purposely not looking in her mom’s eyes.
“What happened in the gym outback? Did someone attack you?” she asks, carefully watching Vee’s body language.
“No, I umm.”
“You can’t remember; hurry up before she gets more suspicious!”
“I don’t know, I was walking around outback, decided to do some stamina exercises, and next thing I know, I am here in bed, cleaned up and bandaged,” she answers her mother with a full-on lie, but she didn’t know how to tell anyone there was another person in her head.
“Well, Dustin is here, and he brought your brother and sister; I know they would love to see their big sister. We are having pizza. Stuffed Crust with extra cheese,” Meghan says with a smile. She knows her daughter is lying, but she wasn’t going to push it just yet. The time will come, is what she tells herself but by then? It’ll be way too late.
Strader Estate-Compound
Houston, Texas USA
November 7th, 2021
“Hey, wake up! You have a contractual obligation to Thunder Pro! Up and at’em!”
“I’m up. Geez. Man, it does suck having you as an alarm clock.”
Victoria was starting to get used to having someone inside her, but she definitely hasn’t gotten used to the other side being able to randomly control her limbs and body. It’s never for very long which our young Strader-Knox is thankful for. She is wearing a pink robe that her ex-girlfriend, Maxine Riggs, had given her for her 19th birthday and just a pair of socks. The last girlfriend of hers had slept naked, and she has fallen into that habit as well. After a hot shower, a bit of foundation, and light eyeshadow to cover the bruises from her alter-ego took control and tossed her all around the Strader training centre; she is ready to find Harold and shoot a promotional video. She was content with the fact that no one had bothered to make a big deal out of it, but she was fooling herself; Meghan, her mother, knew her firstborn was going through a change, and from what the family could see, they knew she was heading down the same road as her cousins, Supreme Machine and Queenie J.
“Where should we film this, Vee?”
“Training centre, time for a history lesson.”
“Fine, but I am going for a ride first. My Arch arrived last week.”
She ordered a new motorcycle when Tony Savage had worked a deal giving every OCW roster member an extra 35,000 USD, and she used that to purchase a custom KRGT-1 Arch. It was a solo riding bike for long-distance rides or rugged trails. She puts on her custom bare minimum and barely legal silver helmet along with her rose-coloured Aviator riding glasses. She kicked it over, and the custom-tuned Arch-engine roared to life. Her left foot kicks it into gear, and she does a burn peeling out of the compound.
Later that day…
Victoria stands in the middle of the squared circle as everyone’s favourite opiate-addicted escort lovin’ cameraperson Harold is standing in the corner far corner of the ring from VSK.
“Whenever you are ready, Miss Strader-Knox,” he says with a sheepish grin on his face.
“You can call me Vee, Harold. I’ll leave Miss Strader-Knox for the authorities,” she replies as Harold chuckles, thinking about the time he was buck naked with ladies of the evening and a blow-up sheep that was a joke. Vee is wearing what she had on earlier minus the jean jacket; her hair is pulled back tight into a ponytail and nods to Harold that she is ready.
~ START TRANSMISSION ~
After fifteen seconds of advertisement for the upcoming Friday Night Fury, the one that Victoria will be focusing on, she stands in the middle of our screens and the ring with a smile, but it was forced for us, the viewer. She was disappointed in her performance on the debut, even though she shouldn’t be.
“Hi guys, so listen, I Ummm… On a night of firsts, you could say I was able to get a first of sorts. I got the first loss in the main event last week, even. Well, it’s technically still this week, but I try to be the early bird and all those cliched phrases. I was thankfully not to be the first loss on the show,” she says to us with a shrug. “Plus, to be honest, I haven’t been doing all that well mentally and emotionally. I was used as a stepping stone, not just by Drew a couple of nights ago… I was also a stepping stone to the Goddess and Dr. Hibert, master of the inappropriate laugh. Yeah, I have Disney+. I have seen the early episodes. Or maybe I was a layover; either way, I am still standing, better than I ever did.”
Victoria brings her right hand, placing it on her forehead. After a few seconds, there’s a grin we have never seen before. Even her tone is of absolute confidence.
“I let myself, Vee Strader-Knox, down on Friday, and that’s never gonna happen again. You are looking at the new and approved Vee,” she seethes at the word ‘Vee’. “Vicky Stone, it is you that stands in my way. I know you are all about the fun. Did you know some fun happened right here? Yep just over there,” she says, pointing to the corner turnbuckle on her right, “is where Scott Nash Strader bent over Maxine Riggs, showing her the fifty states and maybe a few Canadian Provinces. Lovely image, isn’t it? You should’ve seen it live, the amount of clapping on those cheeks you would have thought he was getting a standing ovation, if not her moans were Oscar Worthy.”
She spits on the mat and walks to Harold, holding out her hand motioning for a cigarette. He pulls out a fresh pack of Camel's Lights and hands them to the woman who pays him for this job, but Victoria doesn’t smoke…right? She quickly lights the brown-tipped death stick like she’s been smoking for ten years. A drag so deep it touches the bottom of her lungs. She looks at that cigarette with that Strader sneer.
“Been too long. Anyway, where was I? Ahh, right. To think missed opportunities by gramps now overshadow the place I initially trained, The place I’m going to train for our match, Vicky. You and I are destined to dance in that ring. I know you have the same plan outcome as me, and that’s winning, but no one needs it more than I do. I need to change this trajectory I have allowed us to fall upon.”
Us?
“Come Friday Night Fury. I will remove all your clever puns and cliches and expose you to all the world to see. After all, the greatest trick ever played was the devil convincing us she doesn’t exist. Welcome to my Fury, Vicky. I truly wish it was anyone but you.”
Our screen fades to a Thunder Pro Wrestling advert for Friday Night Fury and the sneer that we should be used to, but this one just hits differently.
~ END TRANSMISSION ~
