vs. Lailoken Da Vinci

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May 2^nd, Breakdown

Los Angeles, CA - STAPLES Center

Off Camera

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The Los Angeles, California Staples Center is still buzzing; I can still hear the fans in the arena abuzz with excitement.  But none of that bothers me.  None of that matters to me.  I came, I wrestled a brutal match against The Gothfather and have the bruises and scars of battle to prove it, but I came out with the victory and that’s all that matters to me; I won.

The SCW staff, officials, and other wrestlers stare, some with awed appreciation at a warrior who just got finished with a brawl, or with confusion at a once strong independent woman who has seemingly given herself entirely to a stranger, to Quinn Murray.  Most if not all of them are curious as to what exactly is going through my mind.  I can’t say I blame them for being curious; me, a woman who once prided herself on being the master strategist of professional wrestling, a woman who prided herself on being the puppet master now finds herself as the puppet, being manipulated by her new manager, Quinn Murray.

But I still do not care what they think.  Their opinions do not matter.  All that matters to me is success.

Yet while it may not make sense for them, success does speak for itself.  I have been on quite the winning streak as of late.  And that’s what I have been striving for.  It’s what I have wanted for so long.  My first year in SCW was marred by losses, failures, and disappointments and now I have seemingly turned things around just by simply aligning with this strange woman known as Quinn Murray.

No, I don’t care what others think of m my arrangement.  The only person whose opinion does matter is Mark O’Brian, my brother.  I have received some minor resistance from my brother Mark.  Mark O’Brian isn’t pleased with this arrangement at all.  The way he sees it, Quinn is trying to split us up.  He believes Quinn is trying to separate us for her own nefarious motives.

Mark does not understand what I am going through.  How could he understand what I am going through?  Ever since I set foot in the world of professional wrestling I prided myself on being able to use my masterful strategic skills, my skills and my abilities inside the ring, all to work towards my advantage to achieve my goals.  And yet when my career takes the nose dive that it did, of course I would go back to the roots, of course I would go and return to where I got my start, to the person who taught me everything I knew.

Of course I would go to Bridgett Kennedy.

Excuse me, that’s Quinn Murray to the public.  I recently learned that Quinn Murray was but merely an alias and her real birth name is Bridgett Kennedy.  But according to her, Bridgett Kennedy is also an alias.  Bridgett, or Quinn, whoever…she claims that she is in reality the incarnation of Athena, Greek Goddess of Wisdom.  Now how do I feel about that, you ask?

It’s not for me to question my Mistress.  She gives me wisdom, I use it to win my matches, I’m happy with the arrangement.  No need to ask questions.

I continue walking until I stop suddenly and turn to the left, walking forward and to a dressing room door.  Mark O’Brian, my overprotective and somewhat Neanderthal-ish brother, rushed ahead of me, thus I anticipate finding him behind the door.  I turn the knob and push the door open.  Upon walking inside I find a strange new arrival in my dressing room.

A female, with brown hair, sitting cross legged on a stool, with her arms folded over her chest, staring critically and judgmentally at me.  I tilt my head to one side and frown.

“Ashley…”

Ashley as in Ashley O’Brian, my sister-in-law.  We’ve never had much of a relationship.  When she and Mark first dated, I convinced Mark to dump her.  I was so manipulative, so convincing, that I had Mark believing that she was only out for herself and would never accept me as part of their life.  Being how loyal he is to family, Mark immediately dumped her.  I was good then, very good.  I was so good I could convince people to take their own lives.  My plan to keep them apart didn’t work; they got back together and ever since then Ashley has hated and despised me.  Ok, well, maybe hate and despise are too strong.  She definitely never trusted me again since that time.  Seeing her here is definitely a shock to my system.

“Sophie.”

Her voice is stoic and emotionless, much like mine usually is.  It’s to be expected coming from the woman who does not like and does not trust me. I sigh and walk right on past her further into the room, approaching my bag, ignoring her very presence except to ask one question.

“So where is Mark?  He was with me at ringside.”

“He was at ringside with you, I saw him.” She responds, nodding her head. “It was a great match, by the way.”

“Like you care.” I snap back at her. “You never cared for wrestling at all. You’ve actively tried to talk Mark into quitting.  And you never cared about me at all, so…”

“True, I never was a big fan of Mark putting his body on the line, but I grew to accept it because I know he loves it so much.  As for you, well…” she shakes her head “…no, I don’t care much for you.”

“Exactly.”

I roll my eyes as I reach into my bag and pull out a towel.  I use it to wipe the sweat from my face. I toss the towel aside and look back at her.

“But it still begs the question, what are you doing here?  You’ve never come to any wrestling event with Mark and me.”

“You’re right.  Even though I accept it as part of my husband’s life, I still can’t stand watching him get hurt.  So I try not to attend these events very often.”

Normally I’m the cryptic one.  Normally I’m the one who avoids the questions and yet here I am the recipient of that precise kind of treatment on behalf of Ashley O’Brian.  It doesn’t make me happy in the least little bit.  I approach her and as I do so she hops up off of the stool she had been sitting on.  We are now face to face, nose to nose.  The tension is thick.

“I’m here to see you, Sophie.”

Now that’s rich!” I start to laugh. “You almost had me going there for a second, Ashley.  I actually thought you were here for a serious reason.  But clearly you’re just here to annoy me.  So let’s just skip all this nonsense and tell me, where is Mark?”

“Why do you care where Mark is anyway?” She asks, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s not like he’s going to take you home.  You have Quinn Murray for that, don’t you?”

Immediately the room goes cold.  I grow silent as I frown and study her for a few moments, pausing to collect my thoughts.

“How much did Mark tell you of her?”

“He told me enough.  He told me how she will only let you see him at these Breakdown events and house shows?  He told me how she made you move in with her.”

“Loud mouthed Neanderthal…” I growl angrily.

“That ‘loud mouthed Neanderthal’ is worried about you, Sophie.  He loves you and cares about you and the only reason he hasn’t said confronted her himself is because he knows if he does, that woman will try to manipulate you into never seeing him again.”

“He’s right for not sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.”

I walk away from Quinn over to a nearby chair.  I pull it up and sit down.  Ashley walks over and stands over me.

“This isn’t like you, Sophie.  You’re a strong, independent woman; why are you allowing yourself to be controlled by her?”

“And what do you care?!” I shout angrily with tears forming in my eyes as I look up at Ashley. “You hate me!  You never trusted me!”

“You never gave me any reason to trust you.  Don’t think I forgot about how you drove a wedge between Mark and I when we dated the first time, causing us to break up.  I hated you for that.  But I also saw how much he loves you and despite my personal feelings towards you, I was willing to accept you into my life because Mark loves you so much.”

“So you want to stick your nose in just because you want to help Mark?” I suggest with a snarky voice.

“That’s part of it.  But also because I know you are capable of so much more.” She reaches over and places a hand on my shoulder.  “Sophie, I also remember how an ex-lover of mine tried to frame me for murder.  You went out of your way to try and clear my name.”

“I couldn’t bear the thought of my idiot brother being upset.  That’s all that it means.”

“No, you’re wrong.” She shakes her head. “You could’ve sat back, let the justice system do its thing, and I would’ve been unjustly convicted and sentenced to God knows how long.  You would’ve had Mark all to yourself and you wouldn’t have had to do anything except sit back and watch it happen.  But you fought for me.  What that shows is that you’re human, you have good in you Sophie.”

“Nice memory to bring up, Ashley, but how about I bring up a memory of my own?  Tony Morgan…”

Tony Morgan is my ex-husband.  Yes, I was married once.  It didn’t turn out well and Ashley remembers that incident.

“Your marriage to Tony ended in a very…um…unfortunate way…”

I snicker “that’s a nice way to put it.”

“…BUT I do remember that time you two were together.  I saw the look in your eyes.  You were happy, and that Sophie O’Brian was a good Sophie O’Brian, a woman capable of love and compassion, not the sociopath you claim to be.”

“She was weak!” I stomp my foot on the floor as hard as I can. “She was weak and she’s dead!  She’s dead and she’s never coming back!”

“Is she?  I think she’s still there, you’re just holding her in.”

“No, she’s not coming back.” I shake my head. “She’s weak.  I need to be the way I am and that’s why I need my Mistress.  She’ll make me strong enough to be a winner, never again a failure.”

“So it comes down to that?  You thought you were a failure and so you sold your soul to this woman in order to be a success again?” She snickers. “For someone who claims to be so smart, you really don’t know much about life.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” I snap back.

“Sophie, sister…” her voice trails off and I admittedly am shocked that she called me ‘sister’, it’s the first time she ever acknowledged the relationship as sisters-in-law “…life is full of ups and downs.  No one is perfect, not you and not even your little puppet master.”

“You are very convincing.” I stand up and immediately grab hold of my gym bag. “But I hate to inform you, that person you think exists, that good Sophie O’Brian…she doesn’t exist.  This is who I am.  This is who I want to be.”

I start to walk out but then Ashley speaks up again. “And what about Mark?”

“What about him?”

“He’s being tortured because of this arrangement you have with Quinn Murray.  He knows the deal, he told me all about it.  Quinn Murray will force you to choose between her or Mark if he were to confront her.”

“Yes, that’s right.” I respond, nodding my head.

“Mark is almost certain that you’d choose him if you had to choose, but he isn’t willing to take the risk.  He loves you too much.”

I turn around to face Ashley. “Why are you saying this?  Why are you doing this to me?”

“You once saved me, Sophie.  So I’m doing what I can to save you, and unlike my husband, I’m not afraid to take the risk and confront Quinn.”

“You know what she will do if you confront her.”

“I do,” she nods her head “she will tell you to choose and you’ll tell her to kiss your ass and that you choose your family, your brother Mark.  That’s what will happen.”

“Like I said…you are very convincing…”

“I know you’re going to leave with her tonight, Sophie.  And I know what she’s promised you.  She’s promised to make you stronger, able to succeed and achieve your goals.  But ask her one question…”

“What?”

“When does this whole process of making you stronger end?  And when it does end, when you ARE stronger, when she perfects you, can you then leave?  Can you then return to your family?  Will she ever release you?”

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Present Day

Dublin, Ireland

Off Camera

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It’s been over a week since the encounter with my sister-in-law Ashley O’Brian.  I have to admit it was not only surprising but strangely touching that Ashley would go out of her way to say those things about me, to try and reach out to me and convince me to leave Quinn Murray.  I honestly didn’t think she cared about me at all.  And perhaps she doesn’t care a great deal about me, but she does see a lot of potential within me, potential that I never knew I had.

Quinn Murray sees potential within me as well.  But she sees a different kind of potential, the potential that can lead to superior strength and power; the kind of power that can lead to me becoming a force to be reckoned with in this world.  And it’s that kind of potential I’m interested in.  I am interested in reaching my fullest potential of power.  The only thing Ashley can lead me to is becoming weaker, even weaker than I was before reuniting with Quinn Murray, if that is even possible.

For over a year I’ve been a disappointment to myself.  And while I haven’t heard it from anyone, I can only imagine that I’ve become a laughing stock for everyone in the wrestling world.  The once great Sophie O’Brian, a four time world champion, can’t accomplish anything in the business, let alone stop a year-long winless streak in Supreme Championship Wrestling.  And yet as soon as I reunite with Quinn Murray, that streak ends with victory after victory after victory.

And Ashley wants me to not only dump Quinn but also to become even more of a disappointment, to become even weaker than I was before?

No, I will not allow myself to become weaker.  I need Quinn Murray to continue on my winning ways as I head into Breakdown against Lailoken Da Vinci.  He is a newcomer to SCW and I’m tasked with being among his first few opponents.

I intend to make sure he is not a success.

The elevator doors slide open revealing the entrance to the dungeon-like basement area of Bridgett Kennedy’s (aka: Quinn Murray’s) massive mansion like home.  It’s a surprising contrast to see, how beautiful it is above ground and yet this place is dark, dank, smells bad, and is just overall an unwelcome place.  Quinn exits the elevator first and I dutifully follow her closely behind.  We approach the portrait of the Greek Goddess Athena.  Immediately I drop to my knees and kiss the outstretched hand of Quinn Murray.

“Thank you, my pet.  Your devotion is appreciated.”

“Of course, my Mistress.”

“Now tell me, you were victorious over The Gothfather, which is yet another victory under your belt.  I may not know much about professional wrestling yet,  I am still learning mind you, but I would hope that SCW management would put you in a better match against a better opponent.  Am I correct?”

“I am wrestling Lailoken Da Vinci, my Mistress.”

Her eyes grow cold as a scowl forms on her face. “And who the hell is that?”

“He’s new, Mistress.  He had a match against Edward Adams and won.”

“And…?” She asks, her voice trailing off as if to expect more.  I merely shake my head.

“And that’s it.  He’s had one match.”

“Help me get this straight, my pet, because as you know I do not know a great deal about wrestling just yet.” I see her pacing, I see the frustration growing on her face.  I do not dare stand up just yet.  I just listen. “You have strung together victories against Billy Breakdown, Bill Barnhart, and The Gothfather.  Clearly you have improved since your debut in Supreme Championship Wrestling.  And that isn’t to count the time you defeated Angelica Jones and the time you nearly became SCW Television Champion, and yet despite all of this, they have you facing a young no-name fool like Lailoken Da Vinci in what will be his second match with the company?”

“That is correct, my Mistress.”

“You know what this means don’t you?” She stops right in front of me and gazes down, her face is full of rage and anger. “This is a blatant sign of disrespect towards you as a competitor and, because you are my pet, my personal plaything, and my weapon of mass destruction, then it is also a blatant sign of disrespect towards me.”

She motions for me to rise up to my feet.  I do so with caution.  “How shall I remedy the situation, my Mistress?”

“I want you to send this David Helms person and whoever advises him a message.  Helms is the person making the matches now, am I correct?”

“Yes, my Mistress.”

“Excellent, then I want you to send him and his ilk a message.  That message will be Lailoken Da Vinci in a bodybag.  I will even hand deliver Mr. Helms a note, telling him that future disrespect of Athena The Goddess of Wisdom will be treated thusly.”

I watch her stoically, awaiting orders or even further words of wisdom.  What I see is the angry glare suddenly turn into a rather pleased grin.  It’s this kind of reaction from her that does worry me.  Yet, at the same time, it shouldn’t come as a surprise to me for it is the same kind of reaction I used to have; she switched from angry to seemingly happy and pleased in just a few seconds.  I used to do that, too.  Not anymore.

“All of SCW’s disrespect aside, I can happily report that I am very pleased with you, my sweet pet.” She rubs the back of her hand across my cheek. “Your mounting victories have proven that you have taken my words of wisdom to heart.  You have even helped recruit a newcomer to the fold.”

“Ian McKinnon.”

Ian McKinnon was once my loyal foot soldier.  He once served me and even swore that he would follow me to the ends of the earth and back.  True to his word, he has done just that. He has agreed to follow Quinn Murray’s path to wisdom.  I am not entirely sure that is a good thing for him.   Few can handle this life.  And it is that thought right there that brings Ashley O’Brian’s words from last week back to me.

“Mistress, may I be so bold as to ask a question?”

“Why, of course, my pet.  You are here, after all, to learn from the Goddess of Wisdom.  So by all means, ask away.”

“Yes, I am here to learn from you.  I sacrificed my soul, my very self I sold to you just so I could obtain the wisdom I needed to become stronger and to use that newfound strength and power to achieve all of my goals.  And I can feel that I am very close to achieving this; my victories over Billy Breakdown, Bill Barnhart, and The Gothfather prove this to me.  My question is, when I do reach that level I want to be, what will then become of our relationship?”

She arches her brow as her face furrows out of curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“With all due respect, Mistress, I think you know.  I live here with you, but not as a person as your toy…your pet…you plaything as you called me today.  And I’ve accepted your terms because I want the wisdom and strength.  What happens when I get that wisdom and strength?”

I watch her cautiously.  I’m not entirely sure how she’ll react.  I’m not entirely sure it was a good idea to ask this question Ashley had originally posed but something made me do it.  A grin forms on her face as she nods her head, but that grin does not mitigate my concerns.

“My sweet pet, you truly are a very wise individual, truly close to the precipice of greatness, the precipice of your Goddesses’ wisdom.  And you have indeed made great strides, you have grown stronger and wiser, but I think you may be setting your bar slightly too high.  You were very wise and very strong when you abandoned me, but you’ve returned because you think that’s not good enough.  You want perfect wisdom and perfect strength.”

“Correct, my Mistress.”

“Isn’t it accurate to say that no one is perfect?” She reaches out and taps me on my nose. “But then again, that applies to humans.  Humans are not perfect.”

“Forgive my disrespect, Mistress, but you have achieved perfection.”

“True, but the difference between you and the rest of your pathetic human race is that I am divine.  I am a goddess.  Now try to follow my logic, my pet.  I have perfect wisdom because I am the Goddess of Wisdom, and our agreement was that you would resume your proper role as my pet until you obtained that goal of perfect wisdom.”

“Correct.”

“And we’ve established that humanity is not perfect.  Is it even possible then for you to achieve PERFECT wisdom?  Besides, I am a goddess, beyond that I am your Mistress, do you dare say that you could achieve equality with your goddess and mistress?”

“No, my Mistress.” I shake my head.

“Then I think you know the answer to your question.”

“Yes, yes I do, my Mistress.”

“No need to thank me, my pet.” She runs her hand through my long black hair. “Your undying loyalty and devotion to me is all I ask.”

“Of course.” A smirk crosses my lips. “Thank you, my Mistress, for your wisdom.”

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On Camera

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I just wonder if David Helms and his ilk in Supreme Championship Wrestling are trying to annoy me.  It is a good question, because consider that my personal weapon, MY Sophie O’Brian, has been ripping through each and every opponent SCW has thrown her way…

…Billy Breakdown, gone.

…Bill Barnhart, still an afterthought.

…The Gothfather, still irrelevant.

And yet MY Sophie O’Brian is facing the newcomer, the rookie, the kid who has only one match to his name.  And of those three that MY Sophie has defeated, one of them is receiving a championship match on Breakdown.

Does this make sense?  Does this booking have wisdom behind it?  No, it doesn’t.  This booking offends Sophie but worse still it offends me.  And SCW will see what happens when I am offended, because Sophie O’Brian is my weapon and I have her aimed at Lailoken Da Vinci and I am ready to pull the trigger and end his existence.

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On Camera

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“I have been impressed with the urgency of doing. Knowing is not enough; we must apply. Being willing is not enough; we must do.”  --- Leonardo Da Vinci

Leonardo Da Vinci and I clearly are on the same wavelength.  We have the same thought process.  He explains quite well why I am on a quest for further wisdom, why I seek further knowledge and understanding.  I have always considered myself a master strategist, the ultimate student of the game, and yet it took me this long in my career to finally grasp the ultimate truth that you are never through learning.  There is always one more lesson to learn. There is always more truth and more wisdom to obtain.  That is why I am a lifelong learner of wisdom and truth.

It shouldn’t come as to a surprise to anyone why I bring up a master of the Renaissance period like Leonardo Da Vinci.  It should be fairly obvious considering my opponent is a blithering nitwit named Lailoken Da Vinci.

I wonder where he ‘obtained’ that name?

Despite your nonsensical ramblings, it is clear that you have at least some grasp of wisdom.  Your vocabulary gives that much away.  Knowing that I am facing someone with an appreciation for wisdom is heartening to some degree, but there is a drastic difference between you and me and that difference is explained in the second half of Leonardo Da Vinci’s quote.

Being wise isn’t good enough, Lailoken.  It’s what you do with that wisdom that makes the difference.

It’s a lesson I had to learn, my friend.  I was adrift in the abyss of this professional wrestling world, accomplishing little to nothing with what skills and abilities I had but the real disappointment came because of how I wasted my wisdom.

I have made it my quest to never again waste that wisdom.  Billy Breakdown, Bill Barnhart, The Gothfather, all of them have fallen before me since I refocused and retooled myself.  Ever since I realized that this wisdom I had built up had been going to waste and that I needed to use it, ever since that point I have been tearing through anyone and everyone SCW chooses to send my way.

Now they send you after me.  And believe when I say that this isn’t going to be very fun for you.

Yes, you’ve had it easy thus far.  You had Edward Adams and, yes, you were victorious.  But then you had Derek Adonis but what happened to that match? It was announced but it never happened.  What happened, Lailoken?

Two.  Since your announced arrival sometime in late March you’ve had two matches.  Where have you been, my friend?  Your wisdom, while worthy, is not being utilized, and if you do not utilize it, you will fail.

Trust me, I know.  I’ve made that mistake before and I will never again make that mistake.

Wisdom is a powerful tool, Lailoken, but as you will find out, if wisdom is not used properly, it can and will be the death of you.

w/ Drake Hemmingway & Kaito vs. Jason Dillinger, Alex Anarchy, & Dylan Cent

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Off Camera

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One down and how many more to go before I get my shots?  Well, actually, I beat two pieces of crap named Brooklyn McDaniel and Dmitri Regas; so I guess that’s two down…two little scrawny nobodies who fell to the power of Mark O’Brian!

Ok, that sounded like a nerd came up with it, forget I said anything.  Point is, people questioned my decision to go to Emerge, which some thought was a step-down for me.  I viewed it not as a step down but as an opportunity to hone my own craft and show what I can do on my own without my sister Sophie.

Truthfully, this isn’t just about trying to prove that I can wrestle and win on my own.  I already know I can and don’t need to prove it to anyone else.  The other reason I’m in Emerge is so to get away from it all.  Specifically, I need to get away from Sophie.  The more I’m around her the more frustrated I get and the more frustrated I get the angrier I get.

Sophie is a smart girl.  She boasts about being among the smartest women in the world and, to be honest, she isn’t far off the mark there.  Few can match her in terms of brain power.  And that’s what makes it so frustrating, because as smart as she is, she is allowing herself to be controlled and used by this little bitch named Quinn Murray.

What bugs me even more about all this is the fact that I pushed her to this. I encouraged her to go to square one, to go back to where she began, see if she could learn something new; but I never expected or anticipated her to devote her entire self to this crazy woman.

That’ll teach me to keep my mouth shut.

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.

I’m currently lost in thought, so much so that I don’t even hear the dining room door creak open.  I barely hear the voice that breaks the silence…

“Mark?”

It startles me back to reality.  I suddenly turn to spot my wife, the beautiful Ashley O’Brian, standing there.  She looks damn fine in her soft satin and eyelash lace pink teddy.  As good as she looks, she also looks that much concerned; concerned about me, no doubt, as she looks right into my eyes.

“Yeah…” I say gruffly while taking another swig of the Scotch “…watcha want, babe?”

“I would like my husband to come to bed sometime tonight.” She remarks as she approaches the table. “But he seems too busy getting drunk.”

“Sorry about that, Ash, but it puts my mind at ease.” I take another swig of Scotch. Ashley clearly isn’t happy as she glares angrily at me.  If looks could kill, I’d probably be dead.

“You know, Mark, talking to your wife could also put your mind at ease.”

“Not this time, Ash.” I shake my head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Ashley sits down next to me. I try to take another sip of Scotch but she takes the bottle away from me and places it back down on the table.  I turn and gaze into her eyes, eyes that are partially full of anger and partially full of kindness.

“Let me help.”

“You wouldn’t be able to help.”

“I can’t help unless you let me try!” Her voice sounds more and more frustrated.  Finally I sigh and nod my head.

“Ok, alright, you want to know what bloody disturbs me at this time of night, babe?  It’s my sister.  It’s Sophie.”

“Sophie?” I nod my head and Ashley shakes her head. “Stop. Don’t beat yourself up over her.”

“I knew it’d turn out this way.” I roll my eyes. “See what I mean?  You just don’t get it.  You can’t help.”

“What’s there not to understand?” She asks curiously. “She abandoned you and for what?  For who?  That crazy woman?  If that’s how she’s going to treat you, then I wonder just how much she actually cared about you to begin with.  Do you know what I mean, Mark?”

I chuckle lightly before reaching over and swiping the bottle of Scotch from her.  I take another swig of it before placing it back down onto the table.

“No, I don’t understand,” I point a finger at my wife “and neither do you, Ash.  Just as I said…”

“Then by all means, fill me in on what I don’t understand. Clearly I’m missing something here.  How could anyone who claims to love you and care for you abandon you the way she did?  It makes no sense to me.” She shakes her head.  Then Ashley reaches over and grabs me by my hands and squeezes them tightly. “I do want to help, Mark.  So please, help me to make sense of all of this.”

“You really want to know?”

“Yes, I really want to know.” She says, nodding her head.

“Fine….well let’s start with that ‘crazy woman’ you talked about.  A few weeks ago I spoke to her and she threatened to take Sophie away from me.  I didn’t believe her threats, I thought they were nonsense.  How could she take Sophie away from me?  I just took her as a lunatic, especially when she claimed that she owned Sophie.”

I shake my head. “I was wrong, Ash.  She does own Sophie.  And I don’t know if it’s blackmail shit or brainwashing shit or whatever, but she has Sophie jumping through hoops like a fucking puppet.  Sophie has openly told me that she is nothing more than this woman’s personal toy and pet.  Now I ask you, does that sound like the Sophie O’Brian you know?”

“No…” Ashley’s voice trails off as she shakes her head.

“No, it doesn’t.  It’s because it isn’t the Sophie you know, it isn’t my sister.  I don’t know what she did to my sister but my sister is gone and…and…” I sigh and take another sip of the Scotch “…oh what do you care anyway?  You’ve always hated Sophie.  You’re probably glad she’s gone.”

“You’re right, I never did much care for Sophie, but I do care for you and it pains me seeing you hurting like this because of what’s happening to her.  Besides no individual, male or female, should be someone’s property.”

“Nice thought, babe, but what can either of us do about it?  I barely get to see her now.  If either of us interfere, I’ve been told Sophie will never see me again.”

“That’s your sister you’re talking about, Mark.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Are you honestly telling me you believe she’d choose that crazy woman over her?”

“Uh…”

Ashley holds up a hand over my mouth to silence me. “Mark, smartest woman in wrestling or not, sociopath or not, at the end of the day she is your sister, and if there is any human quality to her at all, then she’ll choose you.  You two have been so much together. You endured years of torment and physical abuse from your father.  You worked your asses off together training to be wrestlers.  You were both in the same wrestling companies together.”

“You’re right, Ash.  We have a hell of a big history together.  I’m just not much of a gambler, you know?  I don’t know if I want to risk losing her.”

“I guess you have a question to answer then.”

“What’s that?”

“How much do you trust your sister?”

==========

On Camera

==========

Emerge 5 was the night I put this entire roster on notice.  Hell, I put SCW on notice too with my dominating, destructive performance against Brooklyn McDaniel and Dmitri Regas. I tossed the little bitches around like rag dolls and when I was done playing around I dropped them both like bad habits.  I told you all that I was a damn Sherman Tank; you can’t stop me!  You cannot stop my destructive force!

Now I’m in a six person tag, a match that’s being labeled “Strange Bedfellows” because I don’t got no damn clue who the bloody hell these idiots are!  Actually, I do know Drake Hemmingway.  We’ve had history in GCW.  But outside that, no clue; and I don’t care either.  Drake and Kaito should be on their hands and fucking knees thanking whatever deity they worship that they got me as their tag team partner.  I am what you might call a tag team specialist.  It’s what I do best.  I’ve won tag team titles in every company I’ve been with.  So trust me, I know a thing or two about winning tag team matches.

I also know a thing or two about running over the competition.  So Drake and Kaito can just stay out of my damn way and I’ll do all the heavy lifting.  I’ll wipe out Anarchy, Cent, and Dillinger and get us that win all on my damn own.

Why?  Because I can.

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see the writing on the wall here.  It doesn’t take a genius to see who is gonna win this one.  Not only does one team have all the tag experience and all of the destructive force of a Sherman Tank, but the opposing side can’t work together worth a damn.

Jason Dillinger, who clearly has a major hard on for Peyton Rice, who just so happens to be feuding with Dillinger’s tag partner Dylan Cent.  Do you think Dillinger wants to win or wants to impress his crush by taking out Dylan Cent?

The big idiot will think with his dick just as he always does and sabotage his team.  Sure, he’ll lose, but at least he’ll make Peyton smile.

Dumbass.

Alex Anarchy, sorry for your damn luck.  Looks like you’re stuck between a rock and a dumbass piece of garbage.  You’re stuck on a team that is destined to implode.

vs. The Gothfather

==========

Off Camera

==========

“I like the dreams of the future better than the history of the past.” --- Thomas Jefferson

The room contained a small bed, neatly made, two straight-backed chairs, a washstand, a bureau--without any mirror--and a small table. There were no drapery curtains at the dormer windows, no pictures on the wall. All day the sun had been pouring down upon the roof, and the little room was like an oven for heat. As there were no screens, the windows had not been raised. A big fly was buzzing angrily at one of them now, up and down, up and down, trying to get out.

I can empathize, in some ways, with that insect.  It is helpless, unable to change its situation.  I feel helpless and unable to change my situation.  The only difference is he didn’t intend to get stuck in my room.  I voluntarily put myself under the iron-willed rule of Quinn Murray, my owner and mistress.

She taught me everything she knew but I left her as soon as I had a professional wrestling career promised to me.  Now with my career seemingly going downhill, she’s promised to finish the lessons, she promised to finish teaching me everything she knows.  She just wanted me to make a sacrifice.  As it turns out, that sacrifice turned out to be my very soul.

No longer do I live with my brother Mark.  No longer can I go where I want when I want.  I live with Quinn Murray and I go where she wants me to go, do what she wants me to do.  In exchange, I listen to all of her invaluable words of wisdom.

It has seemingly been a good decision.  I managed to defeat Bill Barnhart on Breakdown.  My confidence is growing with every night I step foot inside of an SCW ring.  Now can I continue my momentum against The Gothfather?

The sound of the door opening startles me just slightly.  I turn my head in time to see Quinn Morgan’s dominating presence enter the room.  Immediately I swing my legs over the side of the bed and get up out of the bed, before immediately kneeling down before her.

“Good morning, my Mistress.”

Good morning, Sophie.  I trust your sleep went well?”

“It did, my Mistress.”

“Excellent.  I know this has been a tough time for you and I could only imagine how difficult these past few weeks must have been for you, trying to acclimated to life without your brother.  What’s his name again?”

“His name does not matter.” I hated having to say that, and it brings a tear to my eye, but I know it was the response she wanted to hear and I am rewarded with her running her hand through my long dark hair and a kiss planted on my forehead.

“Good girl!  You are learning your role very quickly, my pet.  But even I must admit that I am impressed with how much you have sacrificed for the sake of wisdom.”  She uses her hands to motion towards me. “Rise…”

Without question I stand up.

“You have already bore the fruits of further wisdom. You defeated Bill Barnhart on Breakdown.”

“Yet I failed to capture the United States Championship at Unflawed.”

“Stop that right now, Sophie.  This is a lesson in wisdom that you must learn.  What is in the past must stay in the past.  Always look to the future.  Always evolve.  That is what you are here for, is it not?  To evolve and grow?  To become a stronger, smarter athlete than you were before?”

“Yes, my Mistress.” I respond, nodding my head.

“Then don’t worry about your failure at Unflawed.  Focus on what happens going forward.”

“That also means ignoring this success against Barnhart.”

“Correct.  See?  You are learning quickly.  Your next focus should be on your next victim, or at least making sure he IS a victim.  What is his name?”

“His name is irrelevant.”

“Very good!” Quinn chuckles. “But seriously, I actually do need to know his name this time.”

“The Gothfather.”

“Ah, him; well, he hasn’t had much more like than that Barnhart fellow, now has he?  Doesn’t make him any less a threat.  I’m sure Glenn Braddock will have you ready.  Keep winning, Sophie, and I should be able to negotiate you into better matches and better bookings than the likes of Barnhart and Gothfather.”

“But I have to prove that I am worthy of the better bookings.”

“Correct.  But I have supreme confidence in your ability to win.  You have all of the tools to get the job done.  The only thing you lack is the true wisdom to use those tools effectively.” She taps me on my head. “I drilled many of those lessons in your head but just as you were near completion, you abandoned me.  You left me.”

“But I have returned to complete my training.”

“Yes, indeed you have.  And you have sacrificed so much in order to complete that training.  That’s why I am so proud of you, Sophie.  You have given your all, your entire self, over to me.  You were even willing to sacrifice a relationship with your brother Mark…for me…for wisdom.”

“I am your toy, my Mistress,” I shake my head “toys do not have brothers.”

“Too true.” She laughs somewhat nastily. “And with that, I am going to reward you handsomely with wisdom that no one alive knows.”

I perk up immediately, an anxious yet excited grin on my face, as I stare at her.

“Yes, my pet.  Today you shall learn The Truth of Quinn Murray.”

She turns and exits the bedroom.  It doesn’t take a brilliant tactician to determine that she expects me to follow her.  So I do follow closely behind.  As we walk down the hall of this floor of her immense mansion she begins to talk; she tells me a story.

“I am wealthy, my pet.  But no one becomes wealthy by chance.  Either they worked hard to earn it themselves or they inherited the wealth from wealthy parents.  Tell me, how do you think my wealth came to be?”

“I never thought about it, to be perfectly frank.  I knew you were the Owner and CEO of BEK Industries, a powerful worldwide conglomerate that has its toes dipped in numerous industries, focusing primarily on fashion.”

“I am the Owner and CEO but not the founder.”

“Then who did found that company, if it wasn’t you?”

“That is where our story begins.”

We arrive at the elevator.  She presses a button and immediately it opens. We step inside and the doors close.  She presses the very last button at the bottom of the panel.  It will send the elevator to a part of this house I’ve never been to before; the basement.

“Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy both were hard working people.  Like I said, no one ever just falls into wealth.  These two worked for their wealth.  They built themselves and their empire up from the ground.  They founded BEK Industries.  But that wasn’t what the valued the most.”

There’s only one thing more valuable to human life than their material possessions and money.” I remark rather coldly. “And that would be more human life.”

“Very good, my pet.  Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy had a daughter, her name was Bridget Eileen Kennedy.  They loved the girl a great deal, to a fault perhaps.  They loved her so much that they changed the name of their company to BEK Industries…”

“So that’s what the BEK stands for.” I muse out loud. “Bridget Eileen Kennedy.”

“Exactly.”

The elevator reaches the bottom and, presumably, the basement.  The doors slowly slide open and Quinn steps out first, followed by me.  The basement was dank and smelled of cigarettes.  It was more of a bunker, all concrete and little to no personality; the walls and ceilings had a yellow-tar sheen on them and the once cream carpet was dark grey and gritty with grime. Near the ceiling were long low windows, no wider than the slits in a castle turret but lying on their sides. Without any circulation of air the stagnant aroma made it dungeon-esque and the un-softened echo of my feet upon the floor brought on a claustrophobic feel.  There is a blue tarp covering one of the walls.

“What’s behind the tarp?” I ask quizzically.  I look at her for an answer but she acts as if she didn’t hear me.  But I know she heard me.  I certainly spoke loud enough and she doesn’t have hearing difficulties.  She’s just choosing to ignore me for some reason.   She continues with her story.

“Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy were loving parents, but as I said, they were perhaps loving to a fault.  They were overprotective of Bridget.  They sheltered her with their vast wealth and empire.  When she got old enough to realize that there was something else out there, she began to question their authority.  It didn’t help matters that they pressured her to conform to their very conservative, almost Stepford-like lifestyle.  They wanted her to marry a good man who could help her run the company so she and her man could follow in their footsteps.  Bridget had no desire to follow in her parent’s footsteps.”

“I can relate to having a not so good family life.  Granted my parents had slightly different problems than Bridget’s, I’d say.”

“And I think she’d agree your problems were far worse than hers.  She handled her problems similar to the way you and your brother handled yours.  She ran away from home.  No one knew what became of her and her parents were devastated.  They lived the rest of their lives as recluses, and their health slowly degenerated as they lost the will to live when their precious daughter left them.”

Quinn’s story is very intriguing.  It has me on the edge of my seat.

“What happened next?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy died, my pet.  That left the future of BEK up in the air.  Who would take control?  Distant relatives tried to lay claim to the company, due to the heir, Bridget, was presumably dead s well.  But then Bridget miraculously showed up at the last second to claim her rightful fortune.”

“Amazing.” I remark, in a stunned voice. “Simply amazing.  Who got the company?”

“Her distant relatives tried their best to keep it from her but her parents never changed the will.  The company would go to Bridget.”

I continue to stare straight ahead at Quinn, waiting for the rest of the story but she remains silent.  I furrow my brow in confusion.

“Mistress, I apologize but aren’t you going to finish the story?”

“I did.”

“Wait, I’m confused,” I shake my head “I thought Bridget had no interest in running the company?”

“You’re right, she didn’t.”

“So you bought it from her, I take it?”

“Oh silly little pet.” She says with a knowing grin. “Haven’t you guessed?  I AM Bridget Kennedy.”

That revelation nearly floors me.  And I am not easily shaken.  Still, I’m but merely her toy, her possession, and to be the only one allowed to know this piece of wisdom does make me feel honored and privileged indeed.  I grasp her hand and I kiss it.

“Thank you for sharing this wisdom with me, my Mistress.  I do feel privileged to be among the elite few to know this secret truth.  But why do you refuse to use your birth name?”

“My birth name…” she scoffs “…I only use it when I have to, if the board ever requires my physical presence.  They’ve been accepting of a representative going in my place to speak to them on my behalf.  They are corporate snobs, they don’t care as long as their pockets are lined with cash.  As far as why I don’t use the name more often; there is more reason to it than just merely the fact that I hated my parents, if that’s what you are wondering.”

“Why, if you don’t mind my asking, my Mistress?”

“I’m glad you asked.” She says with a knowing grin. “When I ran away from home, I got mixed up with a lot of bad people.  I also got mixed up with a lot of good people.  I learned things about humanity and about myself.  I learned I was not a Kennedy.  I was NEVER a Kennedy.”

I watch her carefully and cautiously as she makes her way over towards the blue tarp.  She places a hand on it.  She jerks on the tarp, causing it to tumble to the ground.  As it turns out the tarp was covering up a painting; a painting I easily recognize from my own studies in Greek mythology.

“Athena, the Greek Goddess of Wisdom.”

“I don’t go by that name any longer, my pet.”

I blink several times.  I pause, trying to figure out if I heard her right.  I look directly into her eyes with doubt in my own eyes.

“You can’t be serious…”

She rears back and slaps me hard across the face.  The smile of confidence on her face changes to a look of anger.

“That was for doubting me.  Another lesson in wisdom for you today, my pet; keep an open mind.  There are things in existence that you know nothing of.  Did you not question why you were my pet and I your owner?  You are not equal with a goddess.”

I rub the sting out of my cheek for a moment, all the while contemplating what I should do next.  It doesn’t take long for me to decide what to do.  I kneel down before this woman, a woman most would describe as insane, but who I am still trying to figure out.

“Glad you know your place, my pet.  Just remember, keep this secret of wisdom between us.  The world is not ready for the truth just yet.”

“Of course, my Mistress.”

==========

On Camera

==========

Ever since I returned to the life and career of my own personal weapon, MY Sophie O’Brian, her career has begun to slowly improve.  My Sophie O’Brian ran Billy Breakdown out of Supreme Championship Wrestling.  My Sophie O’Brian came oh so close to ruining that joke Ikiro’s run to the United States Championship.  But one minor speed bump didn’t stop her.  My Sophie O’Brian would bounce right back and keep moving forward with a win over Bill Barnhart.

Now she has this fool named The Gothfather to contend with.

Gothfather, I somewhat doubt that you have My Sophie beat in terms of physical prowess.  You may be a technical marvel, but she’s better than you in a straight scientific match.  I know it because she was trained by the best wrestler in the world.  And even if you want to brawl with her, I imagine she could still hold her own.

Gothfather, you most definitely have My Sophie O’Brian bested in terms of physical prowess, but what you have in strength you LACK in wisdom.  That is where My Sophie O’Brian will be victorious.  She will outthink you.

Not that it’s a major feat.  A trained monkey could outthink you, Neanderthal.

==========

On Camera

==========

Sun Tzu says, “Thus, what is of supreme importance in war is to attack the enemy's strategy.”

A brute like you is easy to read, Gothfather.  I can read you like a book just as easily as you could take a bath if you actually bothered to do that once in awhile.  And because I can read you like a book, I can attack your strategy before you even know you have a damn strategy.

You should know this, Goth-Person…might as well be Politically Correct.  If you have even have the smallest bit of ring awareness…and you no doubt do, with those many years of experience under your belt…you should know to do your homework on your opponent.  And if you’ve done your homework on me, then you will know that no one matches me in terms of pure submission and technical wrestling ability.

In other words, I can hurt you in any way I see fit.

If you try to change your method of attack, I can adapt to any style.  I’ve bled before and I am not afraid to bleed again.  And I’ve grounded the best high flyers.  And go ahead, use power and strength against me, but I don’t go down in defeat that easily.

Quite honestly, mate, you do not have the chops to put me down.

There is something else I have that you do not have, Goth-Person; a will to win.  As cheesy and corny as that may sound, it is a fact.  Ever since you arrived here in Supreme Championship Wrestling you’ve managed to do all of nothing in this company.  And you’ve maintained that status quo your entire SCW career without doing a damn thing to try and change your place.  It’s as if you are ok with where you are.

Granted, I haven’t done much either during my year in SCW.  The only difference between you and me is I am actively trying to change my spot.  I am not ok with where I am in SCW so I am doing everything and anything to improve my game, both physically and mentally.  I am learning more and more about how to physically take another human being apart and how to mentally take them apart, because I do not want to stay where I am.

You, Goth-Person, clearly are ok staying where you are.  And that’s fine with me, because I will gladly step over your beaten, bruised carcass on my way to the top where I belong.