vs. Autumn Valentine

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Off Camera

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It’s been nearly three months since my breakdown (pardon the pun).  It has been nearly three months since I hit rock bottom and felt I had nowhere to turn except to my old acquaintance (or former slave master as it were) Quinn Murray for guidance back to the top.  Those were quite possibly the darkest days of my life as I battled my own split personality, as I literally battled myself on the battlefield of my mind for control of my own heart and soul.  In the end, though, I did end up capturing championship gold; the SCW Television Championship, which at the end of the day was what I wanted in the first place.

The thing is, the SCW Television Championship isn’t the biggest prize that came from all of this.  I gained something else, something that is not materialistic and something that has far deeper meaning and value than the championship.

I gained a sense of calm and normalcy.

No, the mental battles are far from over.  Psychiatric sessions are in my future to ensure that I am on the road to recovery but the darkness that held onto my life for so long is no longer there.  It’s just me.  It’s the woman I was meant to be.

It’s just Sophie O’Brian.

There’s still one final hurdle I need to overcome. Mark was none too thrilled about it when I told him, in fact he outright refused to let me come.  So that’s why I snuck out when he wasn’t looking.  There is still plenty of the old Sophie left in me.  I still know all of her tricks of the trade.  I can get one over on my poor brother if I have to.  Unfortunately for him, as much as he may worry, this is something I need to do so that I can feel deep within myself that I have finally beaten this thing once and for all.

I must confront Quinn Murray.

I find myself in Dublin, Ireland standing in front of an impressive piece of architecture that I called home for a few weeks.  A place that I find all too familiar; Quinn Murray’s private estate.

Ivy and ferns grew through the crevices of the old winding stone path, which led directly to the colossal structure. The mansion loomed proudly behind creaky iron gates, flanked by rows of skeletal trees crowned in crimson, swaying gently to the chilly autumn wind. At its threshold stood the delicate marble fountain, the soft gurgling of the clear water melodic as it resonated in the surrounding silence.

The house itself was new. Very new. It looked like it had been finished last week. It looked almost too new in some strange way. It was as if it had rolled off a production line, but they had forgotten to apply the mandatory layer of color to it. The windows were huge and seemingly inspired by something truly alien. Anyone could see into the house from an uncomfortable distance. From here, I could see surfaces of white, glossy plastic that iced over the kitchen, granite enforced the walls in their straight, uninspired monotony. There wasn't a single square meter of organic material in sight. Not even a comforting wallpaper that imitated warmth in some way. Not even a plank of wood. The house, it seems, was a livable, modern mausoleum.

I approach the front door and ring the doorbell.  I wait patiently but it isn’t long until the door opens.  An older gentleman wearing a black and white butler’s uniform opens the door.

“Ah, Ms. O’Brian, I wasn’t expecting you to return.  Shall I inform Ms. Murray that you have arrived?”

“No…” I remark coldly as I push my way past the elderly butler “…I know the way.”

I storm into the home, through the enormous hall area, and over to a set of elevators.  Without hesitation I step inside and press the button.  The doors close and immediately they head towards the top.  It is a slightly longer ride than most elevators, for this is a multi-story home.  Eventually the elevator ride does come to an end and the doors slide open directly into the private office of Quinn Murray; a huge room occupying the corner of the building with floor-to-ceiling windows giving views in two directions. The two remaining walls contained a door, a low bookshelf, and a single oil painting - a vase of flowers by Vincent van Gogh.

“Greetings, my pet…”

The voice startles me.  I spin around in time to see Quinn Murray approaching me.  I had planned this out so perfectly in mind but now that the time is here I’m growing weaker.  How am I supposed to confront this woman who, just a month ago, I had worshipped as a deity?

“Quinn…”

“Incorrect.” She shakes her head as she slowly starts to make her way towards me.  “Remember who I am to you.  I am your Mistress.”

“I call no one mistress.” I shake my head vehemently, trying to sound tough but at the same time I slowly back away. “No longer do I bend the knee to the likes of you or anyone else.”

“If you don’t call me Mistress then there is but one option and it is not Quinn, for it is but a fake name for the public.  Nor shall I be addressed by Bridgett, that silly name the vessels known as my earthly parents gave me.” She shakes her head. “No, you shall call me Athena, Goddess of Wisdom.”

“Not on your life…Quinn…”

“BLASPHEMER!”

I certainly didn’t expect an outburst like that.  She rears back and punches me hard across the side of the face.  It doesn’t knock me down but it does manage to stagger me backward against the wall.  Quinn walks forward and grabs me by the throat and presses me down against the wall, squeezing my throat as hard as she can, trying to squeeze the life out of me.

“You can just stand there and suffer, Sophie.  Suffer, Sophie, and feel it…feel yourself suffocating as I choke the very life out of you…” she chuckles nastily “…I gave you everything you needed to make it on your own, I gave you the knowledge and wisdom to propel yourself to greatness, and I am the reason you are the SCW Television Champion today!  Yet this is how you repay me?”

She shakes her head as I drop to my knees. “No, no more mercy for you.  Though it is appropriate that you die in this position, on your knees where you belong.  What were you expecting, my pet?  Did you expect a change from me? I am a goddess, I do not need to change.  If you were expecting yourself to show courage in a confrontation with your former master then you clearly blundered that one, too.  You are a failure, Sophie.  A failure at life.”

And that is just what I needed to hear; it triggers the darkness…

I use my remaining strength to force my way back to my feet.  I knee her in the gut several times, forcing a break.  Then I throw a right hand of my own that has enough force behind it to drop her to the floor.  I reach over and grab a nearby vase and rear back and clobber her in the back with it, dropping her back down just as she was trying to get back up.

I’m not done. I pick her up and stand her up against the wall.  I glare angrily at her, rage and fury are flowing through my veins.  But what sobers me is when Quinn starts to laugh.

“Yes, yes, my dear, prove it…”

“Prove what?”

“Prove to yourself that you are not a good person.  Prove to yourself the truth that you know and that I always knew; that you are a monster.  That’s why I took you in as my pet, my toy, because I knew I could tame you.  But you have this crazy notion that you can live without me?” She shakes her head and spits up some blood. “No, you’re just an animal.”

“No!  I’m a human being!  I’m…”

“You’re an animal.  You’re a beast of burden, Sophie.”

Tears start to flow down my eyes as my emotions take over.  Her laughing doesn’t help matters.

“Go ahead, Sophie, kill me!  Kill me because there is no going back from murder, you animal!”

I really want to kill her.  I want to end her and end this once and for all.  But she’s right, if I do kill her there is no going back.  I’ll have proven that I am the animal that she says I am.  The darkness inside wants me to kill her…

…and that’s when the decision is taken away from me.  She is jerked away from me and thrown against the wall.  She falls over unconscious.  I look over to see the familiar face of the man who just knocked her out.

“Ian?!”

I really want to kill her.  I want to end her and end this once and for all.  But she’s right, if I do kill her there is no going back.  I’ll have proven that I am the animal that she says I am.  The darkness inside wants me to kill her…

…and that’s when the decision is taken away from me.  She is jerked away from me and thrown against the wall.  She falls over unconscious.  I look over to see the familiar face of the man who just knocked her out.

“Ian?!”

“Sorry, can’t let you go through with it.”

“I don’t know what to do with her.” I shake my head.  “I needed to confront her but I never expected this to happen.  I never wanted this to happen…”

My voice trails off as tears once more begin to flow down my cheek “...but maybe she should be dead?  I’d be safe then.”

“Sophie, leave it to me. I’ll ensure this mad woman never bothers you again. Don’t ask how. Plausible deniability.”

“Why would you do this for me?” I ask, with a curious look on my face. “I treated you similarly to the way she treated me.  In fact, I’ve done so many terrible acts in my life.  I deserve nothing, Ian.”

“When I left Brooklyn (Smith), everyone on the GCW roster treated me like a pariah. I tried to tell my side of the story. Our break up wasn’t as bad as Brooklyn painted it as. I was driven to feel like an outcast. A failure. I had no one to turn to, except you. You gave me direction. A true sense of belonging.”

Ian pauses. “During my time drifting across the country I realized something...”  He runs his fingers through my hair. “I couldn’t exist without you. Call it dependency. Some will call it Stockholm. Don’t know. The only reason I aligned with that woman was to be closer to you. I realized that was a mistake. I should’ve tried to save you from her. In true Sophie fashion you escaped anyway.”

Ian smirks. “You didn’t need me to save you Sophie. Ok. Now I’m rambling. I don’t care if you are a sociopath or a woman who finally let the light into her heart. I love you. No pressure to say it back. Boy was that long winded. Yeah. That’s why. Hope that wasn’t too much.”

“So you don’t mind that the old Sophie is gone?” I ask with a smile.

“I don’t. All I ever wanted is for you to be happy. Your happiness is all that matters.”

“In that case,” I kiss him on his cheek “maybe we can make this work?  Maybe?”

Ian smiles. “I’m willing to try if you are.”

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On Camera

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Finally, after bouts of pork-like, sex obsessed men, Karaoke singing buffoons, and one-eyed idiots reigning atop the Television division, now someone has come along to set the bar higher.  Someone has come to set the standard to a new level of greatness.

That person is me, Sophie O’Brian.

As the SCW Television Champion I have welcomed anyone and everyone to come and challenge me.  I thought management might have actually been taking me serious when they announced I would be facing an unnamed opponent.  I thoroughly enjoy challenges, don’t you know?

Much to my disappointment they drag Billy Breakdown out of the closet.  Or is it Billy Rise To Greatness now?  Who knows and who really gives a damn?  I know I don’t.  I dispatched of his pathetic carcass quickly and efficiently.

That was an insult, SCW.  Do not insult me again.  I fully intend to make this championship prestigious again, washing away the memory of the Derek Adonis’s and the Ikiro Eyoshi’s of the world.  Instead you have a vicious, aggressive beast with the belt who refuses to give it up without a good fight.

I hope you can give me a good fight, Autumn.  But then again, just about anyone can give me a better fight than that fool Billy, am I right?

You may have overcame Cassidy Carter to get to this title opportunity but understand that I am no Cassidy Carter.  I am not frolicking, mischievous little troll, riding along Ace Marshall’s coattails.  I am far more dangerous and far more cunning than anyone you’ve had to deal with in recent months.

And I have more passion for this than you.  I want this more than you.  I only just brought myself back up from the depths of hell to claim this championship, to finally make my mark on this company.  Now someone like you comes along claiming a title shot just because you beat a cheap, insignificant, little bimbo?

Not on your life, Autumn.

This championship represents my return to greatness.  It represents everything I’ve fought hard to achieve.  You won’t take it from me without a fight.

vs. TBA

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On Camera

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We open up in front of a SCW logo backdrop.  The opening chords to “Hands of the Wicked” begins to play.  The ominous tune plays on for several long moments until Sophie O’Brian steps into view from stage left.  The beautiful yet dangerous vixen is wearing a black skirt that stops just above the knee, a teal colored top, and black high heeled pumps.  Her long black hair hangs unrestrained to shoulder length.  She has the SCW Television Championship title belt draped over her right shoulder.  “Hands of the Wicked” slowly starts to fade until it is barely audible.  It is at this point that the champion begins to speak.

“I found out about the next Breakdown card through my dear brother.  Mark informed me that I had no clearly defined opposition.  I thought he had misunderstood the card, which he has been known to do from time to time, so I looked at it myself and much to my surprise he was actually spot on the money this time.  My opponent was labeled TBA…or to be announced for those who hate acronyms.  Now most champions in my position may hate or detest such a scenario where they are walking in without knowledge of who they are facing.  But me?”

Sophie smirks knowingly. “I enjoy the challenge.”

“You see, I already said my piece on social media; I’d be willing to face anyone.  There were those who threw their names in the hat as volunteers to challenge me for my championship; Owen Cruze and Max Kane, most notably.  Now I have no idea if either will be my challenger on Breakdown or not.” She shrugs her shoulders. “But the point is that I do not care.  I do not care who SCW puts in front of me because I will face anyone.  I did not seek out the SCW Television Championship so I could be a coddled champion and pick my battles.  If I had wanted that I would have been chasing one of the other championships.”

She pats the championship belt that rests over her shoulder. “Instead I chose to go after the championship where the champion is asked to defend it each and every week; no breaks and no excuses, I’m the champion who every week grants some lucky superstar an opportunity.”

“You just have to understand that all I offer is an opportunity, because I am also the superstar who will crush your opportunity in an instant.  One Death of Wisdom and I will pin you for a three count.  Or I may drag it out, I may choose to torture you by locking you in Wisdom itself, and force you to give up on the opportunity, force you to give up on your dream, force you to tap out and submit to me.”

She holds up one finger. “At least one lucky superstar gets an opportunity on Breakdown.  And I have no idea who that individual may be.  I simply say bring it on.  My obligation as a champion is to defend this championship each and every week regardless of who the opponent may be.  There are no excuse and no reasons to whine or moan as so many others in this company tend to do.  I’m not weak like them.  I will face the challenge head on, whoever it may be, and I will put them down like the dog that they are.  And this challenger, this challenger to be announced, will learn just as everyone in Supreme Championship Wrestling will quickly learn, that wisdom will be the death of you.”

The scene fades to black.

vs. Derek Adonis

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Off Camera

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I never used to be very fond of balconies; well, my darker half never was, at least.  With her in control, I was a recluse, always desiring to stay inside and away from human contact and away from nature itself.  But things are different now.  I seem to enjoy the lovely view I receive from balconies.  I feel that if I could only manage to stand on one long enough, the right one, wearing a long white trailing gown, preferably during the first quarter of the moon, something would happen: music would sound, a shape would appear below, sinuous and dark, and climb towards me, while I leaned fearfully, hopefully, gracefully, against the wrought-iron railing and quivered. But this wasn't a very romantic balcony.

You’re also a bloody cream puff who ought to realize that this is a damn exercise in futility!

That voice in my head isn’t helpful, either.

Shut up.  You have better things to be doing right now and you know it.

In a way she is right, I do have obligations to fulfill for Supreme Championship Wrestling.  I am the Television Champion and as champion I must defend it on every Breakdown, including this coming Breakdown against Derek Adonis.

You will not humiliate us by losing to that oversexed fat ass oaf!

My darker half is concerned about our wrestling career and with good reason.  She was the strategist, not me.  She is the fighter, the wrestler, not me.  I have little experience with this.  That’s what makes this defense against Derek Adonis all that much more challenging.  But I intend to do everything I can to retain the championship and that means making sure my head is clear and I am relaxed.

Staying here outside on the balcony of my room at my brother’s home in Belfast, Northern Ireland is just the thing I need to get some rest and relaxation.

The balcony had a geometric railing like those on middle income apartment buildings of the fifties, and the floor was poured concrete, already beginning to erode. It wasn't the kind of balcony a man would stand under playing a lute.

A sad smile creeps across my face and a tear rolls down my cheek.  This may not be the most romantic of balconies but I am, apparently, a romantic person and I feel a sense of loss right now.  I feel like I am missing something in my life; or rather someone.

Yes, we’re missing our Mistress Quinn Murray!

We don’t need her.

“Hey Sophie,” 

That’s the voice of my brother, Mark O’Brian and it startles me back to reality.  I wipe the tear from my eye but the sad smile remains as I turn around to face him.  My much larger and well built brother approaches me and places a hand on my shoulder.

“You were having another episode, weren’t you?”

I nod my head.  He seems to have me pegged fairly well.  I have no idea why my darker half thinks he’s so dumb.  He isn’t dumb at all.  He is quite intuitive, especially when it concerns those he loves and cares about.

“Am I that obvious?”

“It’s that emptiness in your eyes.  When I see that emptiness I know that the other Sophie is there.”

“She’s always there, Mark.” I sigh with a sense of defeatist resignation.  “She is always there and always will be there, constantly arguing and bickering with me.  I can’t seem to rid myself of her.  It just…”

Tears once again well up in my eyes as I shake my head “…it just drives me insane.”

“Well yeah, most would say hearing voices in your head is enough to make you insane.” He says with a smirk on his handsome face.  I give him a playful shove in response.

“Shut up you!”

“Heh, now that sounds like the Sophie I remember.”

Immediately I step back.  I bow my head and sigh. “Please, don’t say that.”

“Sorry, Sophie.  I wasn’t thinking.” He takes me by my hand. “Come inside, we need to have a chat.”

I nod my head and allow myself to be led by him back through the sliding glass doors of the balcony and back into my bedroom.  Mark shuts the sliding glass doors and I approach the queen sized bed with chocolate covered bed sheets.  I sit down on the edge of the bed, my head still bowed down as I stare blankly at the floor.  I feel Mark’s heavy footsteps approaching.  Next I feel him sitting down next to me.

“It’s beautiful out there, you know it?”

“I never paid that much attention.  Then again, neither did you.”

“My darker half doesn’t seem to give a damn about the beauty but I do.  I enjoy it, and yet standing there, enjoying the view, the scenery, it brings out a feeling of grief and sadness…it feels like I lost a great big part of my soul that I long to have back…”

“Tony.”

I blink my eyes curiously. “Who?”

“Tony Morgan was your husband.  You were in love with him; but then for some reason you murdered him.”

“She did it!” I start crying again as I bury my face in my hands. “She did it to protect herself, realizing that love would break her hold over me!”

Mark pats me on the back.  “I hate to see you like this, Sophie.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re suffering.”

“I’m fine.” I respond weakly and unconvincingly with what strength I have, which isn’t much.

“You’re a bad liar, Sophie.” He chuckles. “Both of your personalities are bad liars, come to think of it.  You’re suffering and I can tell; you’re suffering because you’re fighting yourself.  I hate seeing you like this.”

“You have no idea what it’s like.” I remark, finally looking up into his eyes with tears flowing down my cheek. “She’s strong, Mark, she’s very strong, and it’s becoming harder and harder to keep her under wraps.  It is tempting to just let go because it’s easier, it’s tempting to unleash her because of what she has to offer.”

“What do you mean by that?  You ARE her?”

“No, I’m not!  I am not the fighter she is!  I am not as smart as she is!  She can take down Derek Adonis on Breakdown.  But I’m not sure I can.  And yet I’m not sure I want to let her out…I have to keep her chained up…I have to keep fighting her.”

“But she IS you, Sophie; at least, a part of you.”

“No, I refuse to believe that a part of me is that dark, that evil.” I shake my head vehemently.

“A smart person once told me that all of us had the capability of being bad.  Even the best and brightest of people were capable of heinous acts.  YOU told me that, Sophie.  And you know what?  I believe you.”

“No,” I shake my head “you’re wrong.”

“All of that intelligence, the fighting ability, the wrestling knowledge and experience, all of it is right up there in that head of yours,” he taps me on my head “you have that potential, Sophie, because that bad Sophie IS the real Sophie, just like you are also the real Sophie.  You both bring a little something to the table, y’know?”

“No…” my voice trails off. “…I don’t want what she brings to the table. She’s frightening.  She’s…”

“Wait, you’re scared of her?”

“Not exactly.  I’m scared that if I let her out then I may be too weak to put her back in the bottle.  Pandora’s box; the evil I let out stays out, for good.”

“You have nothing to fear, Sophie, because I’m here to help you.” He places a hand on my bare leg.

“Huh?”

“Tell you what, let me talk to bad Sophie for a moment.”

My eyes grow wide with shock at what Mark just requested.  I shake my head. “You don’t know what you’re asking, Mark.”

“I know exactly what I’m asking.” He nods his head. “Trust me, I can handle her.”

“No, I don’t want to.”

“Give her to me.” He demands, much more sternly this time.

“No…”

“I SAID LET HER OUT!”

My eyes glaze over ever so slightly.  Quickly I recover and then I lunge forward and snatch his throat, squeezing as tightly as I can.  The momentum sends us both falling down to the floor.  I continue to squeeze his throat tightly, choking the life out of my own flesh and blood.  Rage and fury are in my eyes as I finally am unleashed, finally I am out of the bottle…

…Pandora’s box has been opened.

“IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED, YOU STUPID BASTARD?!” I exclaim with venom dripping from my voice. “YOU TRIED TO GET RID OF ME!  YOU AND YOUR WHORE TRIED TO EMPOWER THAT WEAKLING SO THAT I WOULD BE GONE FOREVER AND YOU NOW HAVE THE GALL TO CALL ME OUT?!”

I chuckle lightly as I put another tight squeeze on his throat. “I didn’t realize you had the balls.”

With a surge of energy Mark pushes me off.  I scramble back to my feet but not in enough time to get caught in a bear hug by my brother. Mark then turns and slams me hard against a wall.  The tables are turned as he wraps his own mighty hands around my throat.

“Did you forget how strong I was?!”

I admit, I wasn’t expecting this.

Well you’re supposed to be the smart one; yet you attacked him and provoked him. You got us into this.  Now how are you going to get us out?

Shut up and let me think!

“Don’t go anywhere!”  Mark snaps at me.  “I want you and only you!  Don’t go retreating back into that mind of yours!”

“What the bloody hell do you want?!”

“I told you…” a sinister grin forms on his face “…I want to have a chat.”

I stomp on his foot and that is enough to make him let me go.  I complete a double leg takedown, bringing him down to the floor.  I mount him and start to pour on right hands and lefts.  Before anything else can come of this slugfest the door to the bedroom opens…

“What the hell is going on up here?” I pause long enough to look and see Ashley entering the room. She gasps and steps back in shock. “Sophie!  Mark!  What the hell are you doing?!”

“Just horsing around.” Mark responds with a light bit of laughter in his voice.

“Horsing around?!” I push myself up off of the floor. “You tried to kill me you overbearing Neanderthal!”

Ashley, clearly having composed herself, sighs and shakes her head. “Well we know which Sophie we have with us right now.”

“Nice to see you too, whore.”

Ashley ignores my insult but instead focuses in on my brother. “Mark, what is going on?  Why are you two fighting?”

“I did push a few buttons, I provoked her a little bit, but I needed to if I wanted to bring out that bad Sophie.” Mark answers back as he pushes himself back up to his feet.

“You intentionally brought out Sophie’s dark side?” Ashley asks with wide-eyed shock. “Why would you do that, Mark?”

“You said it yourself, Ashley; this persona was created by Sophie’s own subconscious in order to protect her.  So whether we like her or not, she actually wants the same thing we want and that’s what’s best for Sophie.  In her own twisted way, she thinks she’s helping.”

“I AM HELPING!” I snap back, pointing at Ashley and then at Mark. “But you two are just getting in my way!”

“I give ya credit, you helped her get through years of hell at the hands of our father, you helped her deal with it in the years that followed, but she’s grown now.  She doesn’t need you.”

“Bullshit, Mark!” I slap him across the face. “I alone know what’s best!  That weakling couldn’t make it in the cutthroat world!”

“Oh but she can.” Mark answers back. “And that’s what you’re afraid of, isn’t it?  She doesn’t need you anymore.  You’re afraid of becoming irrelevant.”

“Irrelevant?  Are you calling me irrelevant?!”

“Yes.”

“I don’t need to take this.” I shake my head. “I don’t need either of you sticking your nose in my business ever again!”

With that I turn bolt out of the door.  I race down the steps and quickly exit the front door.  Once outside I reach into my pocket for my iPhone.  I quickly take it and dial a number; the number that would go to Quinn Murray’s cell phone.  I hold it up and I am about to press send but I hesitate…for some reason I am reluctant to make this call…

“Sophie!”

I turn around to spot Mark standing there at the open doorway.  I sneer angrily. “You know who I’m going to call, don’t you?”

“Quinn.”

“Yes!” I nod my head. “Are you here to stop me?”

“No.” He shakes his head.

“You’re not even going to try?”

“I don’t think you will.  I’m willing to take that chance that you won’t go back to her, because if you really want what’s best for Sophie then you’ll know that going back to Quinn Murray is NOT what’s best for her.  You, maybe…but not Sophie.  Besides, I meant it when I said I hated seeing you suffer.  Tell me, Sophie…how hard is it maintaining control right now?”

I pause to ponder his words.  I know what I want to say but I’d be lying.  It’s no use to pretend.

“I…can’t…” I shake my head “…I can’t maintain control.  If I’m honest with you, she’s letting me stay in control simply because you asked to speak with me, she just doesn’t know it.  She could retake control anytime she wanted.  She doesn’t know her own strength.”

“So yeah, you’re suffering just like she is. I hate seeing you suffer, Sophie.  I want that suffering to end.  I don’t think the right way to end it is by going back to Quinn, but if that’s what it takes then so be it.  Point is, you two need to figure something out, you need to figure out some sort of arrangement because I am sick and tired of seeing my sister suffer like this!”

Were you telling the truth?  Am I as strong as you claim?

You created me, dimwit.  You’ve always had the potential.  It was just about tapping into it.

So what are you going to do?  Look at Mark, he clearly cares about you…

No, he cares about you.  And I don’t give a damn about him; but I do care about you.  That’s been my purpose all along.  I hate to admit it but you are ready.  You are ready to take on this world in just about every facet.  So I will step aside and fade away; I will let you have the reins of power.  Under one condition…

Which is?

When you wrestle, let me come out to play.  Even if for a brief moment or two.  I came to enjoy wrestling.  I thrived upon it.  I drew strength from it.  Give me that, it’s all I ask.

Deal.

Have you ever witnessed the merging of two personalities?  Of course you haven’t.  But in Sophie’s mind at this moment in time it’s as if her good self and bad self seem to come together.  Shadows of the sociopath are still there lying underneath but, ultimately, there is only one Sophie left standing.

I blink my eyes curiously a few times. “Mark?”

“Yeah?”

I throw the phone away.  I walk up to him and embrace him in a tight hug. “Thank you!  You’re the greatest brother anyone could ask for!”

“I take it that means the bitch is gone?”

“Mostly.  There may be a few residual things in my subconscious, and it won’t hurt to see a psychiatrist to make sure I’m fine, but I do the voices are gone.  I no longer hear the whispers, I don’t hear anything.  It’s just one voice in my mind now.  Just mine…”

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On Camera

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Normally you’d hear me quote a famous military strategist, probably Sun Tzu, or perhaps another great philosopher.  Normally I would take that quote and dissect it as it relates to my upcoming match.  Not this time.  Not that that overgrown walrus Derek Adonis is undeserving of my usual approach.  He is a former SCW Television Champion, someone to be taken seriously, despite his appearance as comic relief on just about every Breakdown event.

No, he doesn’t get a quote today and no one else gets a quote today because things are about to change for Sophie O’Brian.

One year ago I made my debut in Supreme Championship Wrestling.  In that year I performed at a mediocre quality at best. I was a former world champion in other companies, my brother and I had run roughshod over the tag divisions of other companies, and yet here in SCW I was barely keeping my head above water.

There’s a reason why I spoke about how no one would take me serious in the Taking Hold of the Flame battle royal.  Why would they when up until just recently I finally regained some momentum?  I was hoping that being overlooked and underestimated would play to my advantage and in any normal circumstance it probably would have, but in a battle royal where chaos reigns supreme you can never be sure of anything.

Sometimes you need to be willing to change yourself if you hope to become successful.  I went on a quest for more wisdom and knowledge and guess what?  I found it.  I found that wisdom and that wisdom helped me to change myself for the better.  It helped me hone my fighting skills.  This wisdom helped me to go from mediocre to extraordinary.  That wisdom is what gave me the ability to defeat Ikiro Yoshida for the SCW Television Championship.

Now I hold gold, but not just any gold, the championship that must be defended on each and every SCW Breakdown event.  Some would cower at this prospect but I relish in the challenge.  No longer do I seek out strategies to avoid conflict, instead I look forward to matching my strengths against the strengths of any challenger who dares to come my way.

That includes you, Derek Adonis.

What I want to know, though, is simply this; are you prepared to accept change?  Change is in the air, Adonis.  Change is a necessary part of life itself.  Charles Darwin explained this in his theories of evolution and natural selection.  Change and adaptation are key to survival in this world.  The species that are able to adapt and change will survive to pass on their greatness to the next generation.  The species that are unable to adapt and change will simply die out.

You are the comic relief; that’s how everyone views you.  That’s your role here in Supreme Championship Wrestling. And yet, despite this role that you have gladly played, you still managed to become SCW Television Champion.

It was what some call “a cup of coffee” of a title reign, because it didn’t last long.  But still your name is forever etched in history.  And now here you are on the precipice of doing so again.  And had this been against the Sophie O’Brian from one year ago, I would dare say that you had a fighter’s chance of winning the title back.

But I am not that same person from one year ago.  I have found my flaws and weaknesses and I have worked hard to correct them.  I am stronger and wiser than I was one year ago.  As it stands you don’t even have a fighter’s chance at beating me on Breakdown, Mr. KABLAMA-Sutra.

Yet the winds of change are in the air. Rise To Greatness season is upon us and that makes this season of change mean all that much more.  Anything can happen, Adonis, but only if you’re willing to adapt and change.

I have adapted and changed, Adonis, and I have become Television Champion because of it.  Now I am prepared to make you go the way of many other species who refused to adapt and change…I am prepared to make you go extinct.

vs. Ryan Singer

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Off Camera

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“So do you mind explaining to me one more time, slowly, what is wrong with your sister?”

Those are the words of my wife, Ashley O’Brian.  God she’s dead sexy…but that’s beside the point isn’t it?

Right now I’m in the dining room, a place that my sister might describe as being drab but my wife says is elegant.  Perhaps the dining room was elegant in a minimalist sort of way?  The room echoed the outside world.  The table dominated the space, an elongated ellipse of oak with the raw bark at the edges.  The chairs, each one beautiful in its simplicity, all clean straight lines and high backs, were placed around the table.  I sit at one of them, with a bottle of Scotch in front of me.

The aforementioned dead sexy wife of mine is sitting across from me, her legs crossed, looking oh so elegant.

Where the fuck did I learn these words?  I’ve been around Sophie too damn long.

“I already tried!”

“Try again.  Please?”

I can’t hardly resist that face she’s using on me.  I sigh and shrug my shoulders.  “Look, I was kinda confused myself about what all she told me.  What I gather is that there is a good Sophie and a bad Sophie.”

“So a split personality?”

“Yeah, we can go with that.” I take a swig of my scotch and place it back down on the table.

“It would explain how she so suddenly went from deeply devoted to that Quinn Murray person to being so sweet and happy all of a sudden….which I am shocked I didn’t take note of beforehand….and it would also explain her strange behavior in the mall, but what I don’t understand is how?”

“How?”

“Yeah, Sophie seemed to be such a relatively down to earth woman…relatively speaking considering she is a sociopath…that it leaves me to wonder how she would develop a split personality?”

“I dunno…” I take another swig of scotch.

“Normally it would take something traumatizing for someone to get to that point.  Any ideas what that might be, Mark?”

“Fuck if I know.” I shrug my shoulders. “Worst thing to happen to her was being abused by our old man.”

“That’s it!” Ashley snaps her fingers, which causes me to nearly jump out of my seat.

“Huh?!  What’s it?!”

“It was so obvious!” She smacks her forehead. “The bad Sophie, the one that we are most familiar with, she created that personality in order to cope with her father’s abuse.”

That does make sense.  I’m not quite sure I understand all of it.  Hell, that’s way beyond my abilities.  But then again, Sophie always said that elementary math was beyond my abilities.  But was that the real Sophie?  After what Ashley just said, and after all this nonsense with Quinn Murray, I’m not so sure anymore.

“So, what do we do about it?”

“I’m not sure yet.  But knowing the problem is half of the battle.” She smirks. “Didn’t Sun Tzu say something like that?”

“Don’t go quoting him again!”