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.