Red Star Jester vs. Bianca Reed

[MasterEvil]

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Just kidding, this ain’t ain’t a story of adventure, romance or even rabbit holes. This is a story of no guarantees, lost consistency and a girl in a cell. A cell, dear reader? Yes, a cell with walls of cold bricks and a gate made from orange lasers. There are many other cells of the same description, even down to the torn rags mockingly called a bed, but our story doesn’t involve them. Only the girl in this cell as she faces a stocky guard who is smirking at her from the other side of the gate. “Lyralei…” his smirk fades at a lack of a response as he lets a rough sigh out. “Jester…” her eyes snap away from the orange lasers and onto him.

“Red Star Jester…” she quietly growls out, a smirk returning to the guard at that response.

“Did you really think that The King would tolerate all the things you’ve done? If it was up to me you’d be executed without a thought…but, for some reason, he keeps thinking that there is good in you.”

“Which is why no one will be free of me,” now it is her turn to smirk. “How is Gadalay?” the guard’s forearm, covered in orange steel, plunges through the lasers so his hand could deeply grip Jester’s neck.

“Don’t you dare mention my wife! She’s missing a leg because of you!”

“You speak of her as if she actually mean something to you…even when you’ve done many wrongs yourself…or am I to believe that I’m the only woman you’ve ever held like thi-” a tighter grip stopping her from asking her question.

“You are a freak! No woman!”

“And…yet you…can’t do anything…to defend her…honour…”

“You know what? The King may want you alive-” he throws the raven haired woman far enough back for her to slam against the back wall “-but he never mentioned anything about what condition you’ll be in.” Pulling his arm back he presses a couple buttons on his bracer to cause the lasers to disintegrate. With a predatory smirk on his face the guards steps toward the kneeling woman. Little did he know that he has just walked into her trap as she takes the rag with one hand and threw it up. Dust burst out to cover and sting the guard’s face.

“You may need some water for that,” Jester points out as she slips the bracer off the guard’s arm, practically skip out the cell and press a button to lock him inside. With a second, third and fourth click the rest of the cell door snap open, unleashing hell upon this prison. Yes this does run the risk of bringing The King here but she has to if she had any chance of escaping. Getting out her room is one thing but to get out the building is another as already convicts and guards engage in their inhuman battle.

Slipping and sliding pass this she reaches a pair of doors that shares the same orange metallic surface that her acquired tool does. Yet pressing the buttons don’t seem to have any effect on the door. This is no good. The longer she takes with this the more likely he’d come and her escape is solely dependent on him not doing so. So, without giving a moment to think, Jester charges the door. Little does she know that the moment the bracer touched the door both object vanished, causing the escapee to fall straight through and land face first on the floor. At first Jester looked confused but as she gets up to her knees the woman began to laugh ecstatically. She has succeeded. She has escaped.

“I should have known it was you,” or so she thought as standing in front of her, in his leather clothing and majestic brown cape, is The King. His hand grip onto her neck, much harder than the guard beforehand, as he drags her off with a purpose. “For years, since we were little, you’ve been a constant terror. Every crime imaginable. It is like you enjoy pushing everyone around you…”

“No game is fun if there is no oppone-”

“ENOUGH OF YOUR GAMES!” King roars out as they arrive at a pool at black glowing liquid. “For so long I have spared your life and for so long you keep pushing me to do the one thing I will not do…you even dare use our land name as your own, Red Star Jester. But no more games…I will not kill you, I’ll never kill an old friend, but from this day onwards-” with the grip on her neck King lifts Jester directly above the violently vibrating liquid “-you are exiled from Red Star, doomed to live the rest of your miserable life in a land you know nothing about-” he drops the girl into the hungry water. No matter how much Jester tries to swim she appears to be struggling greatly, as if there is something trying to pull her under, as she tries and tries to keep her eyes and mouth above the liquid at a frantic rate. “I just hope you find peace within you before you die like a miserable worm,” was the last thing she heard before the black pond swallows her under, turning all she could see into blackness.

Years have passed since that day that changed the rest of Red Star Jester’s life.

But right now we find ourselves by a bench outside a supermarket to spot Red Star Jester just sitting there. Though wearing an outfit probably inappropriate for the chills of winter, she seems unaffected at all as in her hand is a piece of paper. We pan around to look over her shoulder and see the only thing written on the note…Bianca Reed.

“When entering the land of kings and queens one has to strike big or you simply do not belong at all. And, no matter the person or belt, there is no one bigger to strike at first than a Champion. Bianca Reed, a fierce warrior queen…a winner of Bad Company…a proven tag team specialist, especially if one looks at the gold around her waist. But, just like her partner and unlike others I’ve heard of, she has already proven herself to be a brilliant combatant on her own. Watch Fright Night if you don’t believe me.

So there is no way one should look simply at her size and go all ‘this will be a breeze’, for overconfidence is the death of many careers and I - for one - don’t seek to embarrass myself against since a top quality opponent. For Rocket Reed may want to go all Jumping Jack and make me collapse like a Falling Star to Get Spiked on the ground with the impact of an Avalanche. And while everyone could be like ‘there goes another win for the marvellous Bianca Reed’ they’d look back at me and think ‘what was that clown thinking?’ My answer to that question…

One has to strike big or you simply do not belong.

And while no one believes in me, or even want me at this moment, I will prove my worth and I will find my way to belonging alongside all the greats that flood the halls of Four Corners Wrestling. Starting with this very debut against the Killer B. So may The Red Star Jester give you thanks…

Thanks for giving me this holy bread of chance.
Thanks for giving me this wine of opportunity.
Thanks for giving me this moment of harshest welcomes.
And thanks for giving me this reason to smile today…”

Was all spoken with a rather slippery smile. Said smile growing with a happier glee as those final words depart her darken lips while the debuting Jester stands from the bench.

“So, for all of Red Star, let me show you…my deepest appreciation this Wednesday.”

Almost growls out the smiling woman’s lips as she allows the wind to take the paper away from her hand, taking advantage of our attention slipping towards the note to disappear.

[MasterEvil]

“I just hope you find peace within you before you die like a miserable worm,” was the last thing she heard before the black pond swallows her under, turning all she could see into blackness. However sight isn’t the only sense one has. For she can feel a force on her neck tightening and tightening, as if the liquid itself is trying to crush her neck with an invisible pair of hands. The coldness feeling like a thousand knives slotting in and out Jester’s back as they taunt her to try gasping for air that isn’t there at all.

Death would be quick, simple and hurt for a moment before giving off to peace. This however is nothing like that, not at all. Everything is so slow…torturous…taunting. Her bones shaking violently inside and her organs squishing against each other. Each vibration agonising and damaging. How can someone considered a hero consider this as a better sentence than death? That is probably something bulldozing through the black haired woman’s mind if it wasn’t for the sounds of bones crushing, cracking and crumbling down to smaller sizes, the feeling of her organs being punctured, forcefully stretched and violently shrunk down and the unbearable pain of it all.

“Congratulations! It’s a girl!” Jester’s eyes slowly open to be gifted by the sight of giants. Giants all in white or light blue, each one wearing a pair of blue gloves while possessing some plastic across their lips. They all look down upon her with huge eyes as the loudest thing she could hear was an unknown, maybe muffled, sound of crying.

Her own crying.

“What do you want to call her?” one with an odd kind of hat say as they wrap her tiny body in a towel of some kind before handing her little frame over to a scruffy, sweaty, heavily panting woman of raven black hair who looks down until bundle.

“I think I’ll call her…” she lifts Jester up and a smile crawls its way across her weakened face “…Lyralei.”

Years have passed since that day that changed the rest of Red Star Jester’s life.

And right now we find ourselves outside a McDonald's. Why? Because sitting by one of the benches is Red Star Jester herself…with a few happy meals sitting in front of her on the table. Maybe The Red Jester enjoy things with the word happy in it? Or maybe this odd woman just has a very unhealthy diet for a professional competitor? Whatever’s the case it didn’t take long for Jester, who has a couple fries stick out her mouth in a way similar to tusks, to spot us and greet us with a smile.

“Did you know that it is not long to go until my first dance? Did you also know that many would say that the first dance is often the hardest? To enter an unknown environment, home of many that simply do not want you there at all and perform all the lights blaring down upon you. One would think that someone would end up crumbling under the scrutinising eyes of skepticism and criticism and end up, well, embarrassing themselves…

But I look at this so much differently. Why fear what one does not know? What has happened to what doesn’t kill you makes you stranger? Why should I be worried about embarrassing myself? The answer is simpler than the question…I simply don’t. I’ve lived a life of many colours, many loves, many hates and many failed desires. So when someone comes up to me and ask about people’s hate for me I simply say this…people tend to have more things of apparent hate to say behind someone’s back than to their face. Well if anyone has an issue with me then I always open to a chat…

Well except for when the bell rings, Bianca, for the both of us are competitors. She is much more experienced, as well as older than me and can ever so easily use that as some form of edge. After all, someone like her can turn anything into a weapon to turn my debut into a time of nightmare until the dying moments. How unfortunate for her that - unlike her shot of becoming 4CW Champion at Fright Night - I will not die. If anything I will survive through everything she wants and will launch at me.

Even in my time of dying I will not die. If Miss Reed wants to get rid of me then she’ll have to poison me, stab me, choke me, blow me and try her absolute best not to enjoy it too much. But even then, even then, I will kick out and continue to fight on…for, like all monsters, I’ll never stay down. Be it a minute, an hour, a week or even three months I will always get back up, I will always claw back and I will always rise, rise, rise my way to victory…a victory that’ll be ever so sweet this Wednesday.”

More and more the milky skinned woman eats the fast food in front of her as she speaks to us, as if not caring what anyone seeing this could possibly think about the curvy young lady. However Jester’s words did trail off at the realisation that her happy meals are now empty, promoting a momentary pout across her face as she pulls out her phone, log onto her Twitter account and check the first thing on her timeline.

“A witty woman is a treasure; a witty beauty is a power…”

Jester quotes what she saw and immediately shook her head with a rather amused expression before returning her attention to us as she stands up off her seat.

“Talk of beauty and faces are only spoken by stupid people for, like we’ll find out this Wednesday…”

Both the edges of her lips and her eyes deviously sharpen.

“Beauty fades.”

Barely manages to escape this oddball’s lips before she burst into an almost tormented fit of laughter, as if it is hurting her but at the same time impossible for her to stop. So, with a shiver down our spine, we slowly back away and make our leave.