Post by MasterEvil on Mar 22, 2018 20:43:53 GMT
Not long now. Only a few days before my first Stranglemania and here I am practicing on a punching bag. This will most likely be my last and only Stranglemania as well but I can’t think about those little details, for coming up is this three stages of hell match against Criss Cassidy. I know that should a match, especially its chosen stipulations, can be seen as benefiting me but honestly I’m not so sure. Last time I was involved with an EWC table Drake drove me headfirst through one, I have a history of being busted open and no matter what I do I can’t seem to properly keep Cassidy down. Maybe my first, last and only Stranglemania will be forever remembered for me failing…again…hm? I’ve got a text?
“Hey baby.
Just texting you to let you know that both me and Sarah are both wishing you good luck and looking forward to seeing you win at Stranglemania…
And I look forward to ‘celebrating’ your victory when you come home.
XXXX
Heh, it’s almost like Shannon has a sixth sense of when it comes to me having self-doubt. But if my two lovely girls are going to be watching then there is no way I’m going to let anything prevent me from defeating Criss Cassidy! Hm?
“When did the punch bag collapse?”
“Hey baby.
Just texting you to let you know that both me and Sarah are both wishing you good luck and looking forward to seeing you win at Stranglemania…
And I look forward to ‘celebrating’ your victory when you come home.
XXXX
Heh, it’s almost like Shannon has a sixth sense of when it comes to me having self-doubt. But if my two lovely girls are going to be watching then there is no way I’m going to let anything prevent me from defeating Criss Cassidy! Hm?
“When did the punch bag collapse?”
We find ourselves still chained to the wall behind us as the sound of growling stomachs enter our ears. From the darkness two lions appears, hunger filling their eyes as they come closer and closer to us. We can feel their breath upon us yet the moment a whistling sound enters our ears these beasts obediently backs away as emerging from the shadows behind them is the Purple Haired Dynamo known as Robina Hood. Wait, are the Lions kneeling to her?
“I do hope that my friends have been accommodating enough for you in my momentary absence, for I needed the time to plan my greatest performance to date.”
While saying her words The Emo Princess steps forward and reaches behind us. Eh? Where has the chains gone? It’s almost like they were never there at all as the forest dweller turns around and starts to head down the corridor. Not wanting to be left alone with her ‘friends’ we quickly follow as the demented archer speaks up.
“What is my greatest performance? At Stranglemania of course where I throw Criss Cassidy through three stages of hell before shining in the spotlight of victory. Admittedly this wasn’t the way I envisioned taking part in my first ever, and possibly only, Stranglemania but many do say that it is the destination that matters most in a journey, not the journey. But those people are idiots that are too impatient to witness the beauty of a blossoming flower…and what blossoming we have seen so far. It all started at Hawaii when I outsmarted Criss to victory…and instead of accepting his failures he dared to accuse me of foul play before demanding a rematch. Being the kind person that I am I not only allowed him the chance to impress me but also to get a second showing upon my stage, a honour only a few gets the privilege of receiving…
Only for him to use his hand of foul play to not only steal my victory but also ruin my precious scene. If there is one thing that no man, woman or beast should ever do is to ruin one of my performances. I wanted revenge but, tying to still be the kind person that I am, I gave him a fair chance to fight me off…only for some interference to prevent an ending. More frustration and anger. But still trying to be the kind person that I am I allowed Criss yet another role within yet another potentially awe-inspiring performance…as a tag team partner instead of an enemy this time. Only for him to ruin yet another masterpiece I spent so long planning and detailing with his complete idiocy.
Over and over again I have given Criss Cassidy chance after chance to shine yet time and time again he returns my kindness has been returned with disappointment after disappointment. For so long I’ve been trying to hold myself out of being such a kind girl…”
Roughly halfway through her words Miss Hood’s more cheerful tone of voice cracks and by the time she mentions the word ‘idiocy’ said cheeriness has completely faded away as the Purple Haired Dynamo stops and turns to face us.
“I am tired of being a kind girl.”
Her right hand clenches into a fist and the wall behind her crumbles into red petals, revealing a dusty room with a throne covered in cobwebs directly in the centre of said room, which also has dry blood staining some of the walls.
“So, if anything Criss, I should be thanking you for hitting me with that critical hit Wake-Up Slap. For so long I have been so obsessed with trying to be such a good person, letting my scenes be dictated by others for so long that I have slipped from the glory of the past. So thank you Criss, from now on I’ll return to the times where my performances were written solely by myself and solely for myself. No more compromising for such inadequate acts like yourself. No more compromising for complainers like yourself. And no more compromising for those who treasure their quality of living…like yourself.”
While saying her words the woman in red strolls over to the throne and lets her fingers trail over it, wiping some webs and dust off while doing so.
“So thank you Criss…I’ll make especially sure to give you my gratitude…by doing to you what I said I’d do at Auckland. I’ll make sure that you’ll never get back up to your feet again. If anything I am going to take my time torturing, punishing and mutilating you until I finally give you the sweet mercy of death, the very thing you’re going to be begging for the moment the bell rings for our three stages of hell match to start. For it ain’t hell for me, no. I went through my own personal hell last year, confronted the devil and burned that bitch so badly that nobody has ever heard from, let alone seen, her ever again.
So this isn’t going to be hell for me…this is going to feel like over three hundred stages of hell to you as I take your blossoming flower into my hands and break it to pieces, rip it to shreds and grind it down so that the only thing left will be yet more blood upon these hands. These very hands who have tasted many blood and yearns for more…and more…and more.”
Her eyes mostly fixated upon the seat throughout her words as she encircles around the old seat until her fingers stroke upon a piece of metal. Grabbing hold of said metal The Emo Princess pulls her crowbar out into our view as she lets herself sit down upon her throne, her eyes now focusing on her weapon of choice.
“So I guess you could say that your suffering at Stranglemania, the kind that I promise you haven’t felt before in your entire life, will definitely be something worth remembering me for…”
While speaking to us it does seem that both her eyes and voice seems more interested in her trusty crowbar as she even trails off at the end. She slowly lifts her gaze towards to us as she lets the crowbar fall out of her hand before pulling a red rose out from behind herself.
“What was that, Criss? You think that you can stop me at Stranglemania? You are a fool. But if you’re so obsessed with finding a way then here is a bone for you to gnaw at. That bone…a question. Once you know the answer you’ll have at least a smidge of a chance to survive the three stages of hell that I – the real Megan Treamon – am going to put you through this Sunday. What is that question?”
She sniffs her rose before smiling in a somewhat disturbing manner.
“Who is the real Christopher Wade?”
Moments after asking her question Robina lets the rose fall from her hand, the moment the flower head touches the floor we are engulfed by a blinding white light.
“I do hope that my friends have been accommodating enough for you in my momentary absence, for I needed the time to plan my greatest performance to date.”
While saying her words The Emo Princess steps forward and reaches behind us. Eh? Where has the chains gone? It’s almost like they were never there at all as the forest dweller turns around and starts to head down the corridor. Not wanting to be left alone with her ‘friends’ we quickly follow as the demented archer speaks up.
“What is my greatest performance? At Stranglemania of course where I throw Criss Cassidy through three stages of hell before shining in the spotlight of victory. Admittedly this wasn’t the way I envisioned taking part in my first ever, and possibly only, Stranglemania but many do say that it is the destination that matters most in a journey, not the journey. But those people are idiots that are too impatient to witness the beauty of a blossoming flower…and what blossoming we have seen so far. It all started at Hawaii when I outsmarted Criss to victory…and instead of accepting his failures he dared to accuse me of foul play before demanding a rematch. Being the kind person that I am I not only allowed him the chance to impress me but also to get a second showing upon my stage, a honour only a few gets the privilege of receiving…
Only for him to use his hand of foul play to not only steal my victory but also ruin my precious scene. If there is one thing that no man, woman or beast should ever do is to ruin one of my performances. I wanted revenge but, tying to still be the kind person that I am, I gave him a fair chance to fight me off…only for some interference to prevent an ending. More frustration and anger. But still trying to be the kind person that I am I allowed Criss yet another role within yet another potentially awe-inspiring performance…as a tag team partner instead of an enemy this time. Only for him to ruin yet another masterpiece I spent so long planning and detailing with his complete idiocy.
Over and over again I have given Criss Cassidy chance after chance to shine yet time and time again he returns my kindness has been returned with disappointment after disappointment. For so long I’ve been trying to hold myself out of being such a kind girl…”
Roughly halfway through her words Miss Hood’s more cheerful tone of voice cracks and by the time she mentions the word ‘idiocy’ said cheeriness has completely faded away as the Purple Haired Dynamo stops and turns to face us.
“I am tired of being a kind girl.”
Her right hand clenches into a fist and the wall behind her crumbles into red petals, revealing a dusty room with a throne covered in cobwebs directly in the centre of said room, which also has dry blood staining some of the walls.
“So, if anything Criss, I should be thanking you for hitting me with that critical hit Wake-Up Slap. For so long I have been so obsessed with trying to be such a good person, letting my scenes be dictated by others for so long that I have slipped from the glory of the past. So thank you Criss, from now on I’ll return to the times where my performances were written solely by myself and solely for myself. No more compromising for such inadequate acts like yourself. No more compromising for complainers like yourself. And no more compromising for those who treasure their quality of living…like yourself.”
While saying her words the woman in red strolls over to the throne and lets her fingers trail over it, wiping some webs and dust off while doing so.
“So thank you Criss…I’ll make especially sure to give you my gratitude…by doing to you what I said I’d do at Auckland. I’ll make sure that you’ll never get back up to your feet again. If anything I am going to take my time torturing, punishing and mutilating you until I finally give you the sweet mercy of death, the very thing you’re going to be begging for the moment the bell rings for our three stages of hell match to start. For it ain’t hell for me, no. I went through my own personal hell last year, confronted the devil and burned that bitch so badly that nobody has ever heard from, let alone seen, her ever again.
So this isn’t going to be hell for me…this is going to feel like over three hundred stages of hell to you as I take your blossoming flower into my hands and break it to pieces, rip it to shreds and grind it down so that the only thing left will be yet more blood upon these hands. These very hands who have tasted many blood and yearns for more…and more…and more.”
Her eyes mostly fixated upon the seat throughout her words as she encircles around the old seat until her fingers stroke upon a piece of metal. Grabbing hold of said metal The Emo Princess pulls her crowbar out into our view as she lets herself sit down upon her throne, her eyes now focusing on her weapon of choice.
“So I guess you could say that your suffering at Stranglemania, the kind that I promise you haven’t felt before in your entire life, will definitely be something worth remembering me for…”
While speaking to us it does seem that both her eyes and voice seems more interested in her trusty crowbar as she even trails off at the end. She slowly lifts her gaze towards to us as she lets the crowbar fall out of her hand before pulling a red rose out from behind herself.
“What was that, Criss? You think that you can stop me at Stranglemania? You are a fool. But if you’re so obsessed with finding a way then here is a bone for you to gnaw at. That bone…a question. Once you know the answer you’ll have at least a smidge of a chance to survive the three stages of hell that I – the real Megan Treamon – am going to put you through this Sunday. What is that question?”
She sniffs her rose before smiling in a somewhat disturbing manner.
“Who is the real Christopher Wade?”
Moments after asking her question Robina lets the rose fall from her hand, the moment the flower head touches the floor we are engulfed by a blinding white light.