Post by Ciara O'Connor on Apr 20, 2018 8:08:48 GMT
The camera starts with Ciara sitting in a black skirt and a black tank top with a green apple in her hands.
“Hello, friends and enemies. I’m not going to bullshit you all and pretend I understand how most of us got into this match. Some of us apparently just needed to humiliate someone in the ring and management hands you a spot for this. But here we are. The six women management have picked to end this pay per view.”
Ciara pauses a moment.
“Dark Reign.”
Ciara sighs.
“Fucking edge lords the lot of you.”
Ciara shakes her head.
“Iron Maiden. Glory and Gore go hand and hand in this match. This is the moment for all of us to fucking destroy something beautiful. This is the time to build an empire. This is the moment we all prove how the rest of the year is going to go. This is a make or break moment. We’ll be locked in a cage with no way out until victory or defeat.”
Ciara looks at the apple.
“In this kind of situation, you can fight it or accept it. Fear what’s coming or control how you react to the shit storm that is coming. People love having my name in their mouth, don’t they? Miscount me and reject me out of hand. Because I’ve spent the last few years of my life behind Vivienne?”
Ciara purses her lips for a moment.
“I get it.”
Ciara shrugs.
“I wasn’t made to be soft and quiet. I wasn’t made to stand at the sidelines and say words of encouragement. I wasn’t built to stand by and let people get away with everything they’ve ever done. That’s not who I am. I’ve never been that person. I was made to make the world shatter and shake under my touch.”
Bounces an apple in her right hand.
“That’s what you all seem to misunderstand. You assume because I have been Vivienne’s manager all this time that clearly, she and I are the same person. Take a look at how things went with Kate Steele. She was nothing and I treated her as such. I demoralized her. But sure, I’m soft. I’m weak. I am the easy target. Because there was a time I tried to be the person who could be soft. Could be the type who would be good to take home to family dinners.”
Ciara tosses the apple to her left hand.
“That trial ended the moment I was left on a roof.”
Ciara looks hard into the camera.
“Who that girl was? The one that wanted to be those things? I abandoned that path. I am violent. I am bitter. I am cruel. I have made no secret that I am not some soft wilting flower. I have subjected Kate Steele to that multiple times, haven’t I? Ah, but that doesn’t count, right? Because it only matters if I beat someone important. Well, now’s the time to get that win. Someone ‘important’.”
Sitting alone in the hotel room with some random Youtube videos playing in the background. She didn’t really want to watch anything, she really didn’t care about it but liked having the noise as she scrolled through Instagram on her phone. The PlayStation controller’s batteries had died about half an hour ago and she’d reached peak comfort level on the couch anyway.
“Ciara O’Conner is one of the women selected to be in IWF’s iron maiden match this year at the darkly titled Dark Reign Pay Per View this year. Spooky indeed.”
Ciara glanced up at the TV, thumb frozen on the screen.
“Many people wonder who she is outside of being a manager—and trust me I will address that—but who is she? Well, here are the 10 Thing IWF wants you to forget about Ciara O’Connor.”
Ciara tilted her head slightly.
“Number 10, Sexy Saint Patrick.”
“Kill me…”
“There is a calendar out there full of women from a rooster she was in getting all cheese caked up. It was the early 2000’s. It was part of a terrible situation where the best girl would get a shot at Ami for the title. It was borderline racist in some of the things it had its girls doing and this photo is no exception. And…Yes, I did buy it but mostly because I am a terrible person. I feel deep personal shame but I was a fifteen-year-old boy at the time.”
“Number 9, That whole angle with Lord Deforrest.”
“Everyone would like to forget that, thanks.”
“Women’s wrestling, as I’ve covered before, has not always been what one would call respectful. We’ve also covered this garbage fire before so let’s just hit the high lights. For those who don’t know, Deforrest was a French stereotype and Ciara was a woman. Since they were the two members of the rooster in Japan from Europe clearly they must be seeing each other! It was awful. Deforrest clearly wasn’t into her. She clearly wasn’t into him. It was awkward. It was dreadful. The fact his wedding was leaked on twitter half way through didn’t help matters. The fact the kept it going making Ciara the side bitch just made it worse.”
“Number 8, That Win a date match.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake.”
“Yeah, not the greatest situation to be in and likely not something Ciara herself would want to be known, but her first in the ring situation was with this. The owner of the ill-fated SIPWA got in a bit of a pickle with this one when he offered up a date with his niece to convince two stablemates to actually fight on his show. It was poor taste. It was an awful match. She was a teenager. It was awful, awful stuff.”
“Number 7, She’s more than an underrated manager.”
Ciara chuckled.
“I know I might be one of the few vocal about it but… yeah. She had her time on the indy scene with a lot of promotions. She has held a few small titles. Since getting cleared to compete she hasn’t really been utilized the way one would think she would. I know those of us who’ve followed her career might be a bit of an oddity, one of the indy girls not being straight up discovered by their brand is rare these days and the fact she came in the way she did might have something to do with it but there we are. She spends most of her time managing Vivienne Rodgers and Dawn Kane. Oh I know that’s not the last name but she’s a Kane to me and I love her for it.”
“Course you do.”
“Number 6 She broke her neck.”
Ciara sighed.
“In what was a pretty brutal match to be honest, Ciara O’Connor got a broken neck at a live showdown in Mexico. It was pretty server and honestly, I wouldn’t recommend watching it but hey, Neither would IWF. She’s clearly passed the health screening and is tip top now but that match… That was what many thoughts was career ending.”
Ciara shook her head, she remembered the match well enough and didn’t like the reminder so bluntly stated.
“Number 5, Her family history.”
Ciara glared at the dead controller, weighing her option on getting off the couch.
“Listen, no one’s family history is perfect. My Dad’s a deadbeat too but the fact of the matter is, there’s a high-risk factor given the number of arrests and jail time in that family tree anyone with even a bit of a working knowledge of google or the dirt sheets know she doesn’t come from a good place. Tragic really.”
“Number 4, The Leg Breaker for the Irish Mob gimmick.”
“Oi…”
“Listen, it was one of her best. It’s the one that got her two championship runs at the indy promotion in New York. It was so good. Really, you need to look that up. She plaid the part perfectly. It was part of a faction that really dealt with that and she nailed it. Some of her best work, in my personal brand of tea. So good, and again I mention the family ties here but I’m not going to make any broad assumptions about how well she knew how to do that part.”
“Number 3, She used to wrestle men.”
Ciara groaned.
“It’s not popular on the main stage and certainly not allowed in IWF but there was a time, specifically as her Leg Breaker gimmick where she used to be unleashed on the men that her Irish Mob faction needed to be taken care of quietly. Can anyone forget the ‘You boys traveled together before’ segment? I sure can’t. Watch it every morning before I get out of bed.”
“Seriously. That was ages ago. Let it go.” Ciara tried pressing the center button to get the controller back on to skip the video but it only blinked before dying again.
“Number 2, She actually beat Vivienne Rodgers in the ring.”
Ciara rolled her eyes going back to her phone.
“I know what you’re thinking, why would that even be on this list? Anyone who paid attention to the lesser known independent circuits knows Ciara used to be a bit of a show stopper. But with the way IWF books things you’d think Vivienne and Ciara had been best friends for life. But the truth of the matter was Ciara used to beat her often. When she was out with her injury she started helping Rodgers out and I guess they are best friend for life now but it wasn’t always that way.”
“What possible shit from my past ya going to throw up now?”
“And number 1, SHE’S A GODDAMNED HEEL!”
Ciara felt a new sense of unease.
“I know she’s managing basically one of the few women who’s a face for IWF right now. I know that. I watch the program like I have nothing else to live for. Vivienne is basically that meme about a cinnamon roll too good and pure for this world. Ciara being her manager kind of paints her in a similar light. Except…That’s never been a part of her personality. She’s always been a heel. She has always been a shit talking, violent monster. That’s why we loved her. And you see that peaking through from time to time when they let her out of the back but mostly it’s been pretty tame. Her matches were always brutal. She was always a hard-hitting badass. Maybe not career ending injuries handed out like candy—see our video on top ten things IWF wants you to forget about Rowan—But she’s a sight to behold. Honestly, I’m concerned maybe she doesn’t have the taste for it anymore, maybe she’s gone soft, maybe she got some anger management classes, I don’t know! But I miss her. Maybe we’ll see that side of her again? Likely not but a boy can dream, can’t he?”
Ciara clenched her fist.
“Did we miss any out? Let us know in the comments. Don’t forget to like, share and subscribe—”
Ciara threw the controller at the tv as hard as she could, causing the tv to go crashing to the ground with a crunch.
“Abigail. What is this redneck piece of trash even doing here? You lost. You shouldn’t be here. There’s a couple girls in the back who aren’t on this show who should have your spot. You don’t deserve this position and I have no doubt you’ll be the one to pin. You’re white trash. You’ll always be white trash. No one will mourn you when you finally go back to the little hell hole in Texas you belong.”
Ciara yawns.
“No one considers you a threat. No one looks at you and see anyone worthy of being the forefront of women’s wrestling. You’re bland. You’re boring. But not even in the interesting way someone could have as background noise. Just plain skippable.”
Ciara tosses the apple in the air.
“Rayne. How the mighty have fallen, yeah?”
Ciara catches the apple.
“Everyone likes to go on about how important you were. I know I’ve had to sit back and listen to my client praise you over and over again. And honestly? I’m fucking sick of it. I’m sick of everyone feeling the need to jerk you off about what you did for this industry. Who cares anymore? You never made it to a hall of Famer. You’re not better than anyone else who still works in this industry just because you’ve been doing it longer than us.”
Ciara makes a face of disgust.
“You’re old hat. You’re boring. You’ll deliver the same garbage you always do. You’ll talk about how important you are to history, well funny thing that. You act like you’re the only one who matters, that all those women who helped you make this industry what it is don’t matter. That only you matter. Get fucked. You’re a relic of a bygone age and we are all bored of you. There are a billion things you could be doing to improve this industry but you pick being on the front line yelling at the void at how we should all drop to our knees and thank above and below you happened to exists. Bored. Go take your bow so this division can get some actual fresh air in it.”
Ciara waves the idea off dismissively.
“Helena Sawyer? The girl I’ve heard so much about? Big Miss Spooky pants who went toe to toe with Eternity? Who everyone said was this big terrible scary thing and yet…”
Ciara motions.
“Where were you? When Rowan got defanged at Survival of the Fittest and was left all empty and broken? When The Pack was at it’s weakest where was this darkness? Where were you? She was right there. Weak, mostly helpless. The Pack’s female members were ripe for the goddamned picking.”
Ciara gets an angry look in her eye.
“They kidnapped your girl, didn’t they? Didn’t you love her? Didn’t she mean anything to you?! That would have been your fucking moment to rain bloody vengeance. That would have been the moment to pop out of the wood-work and crushed their pain worshipping skulls! You could have hurt them in the way they hurt her!”
Ciara’s grip on the apple tightens.
“Oh, but it was never really about that, was it? No. You didn’t care about what-ever her name was. You were busy lusting after co-workers. You only really want to fight The Pack when it involves a title, right?”
Ciara scuffs.
“You’re pathetic. You’re not special. You’re a spooky little bitch who can’t quite reach the levels of Rowan or Eternity. At least their spooky edge lord bullshit had some kind of power behind it. What are you? A theater kid who couldn’t hack it on Broadway, huh? Well after you lose this I bet you can get in on some small town production. No one missed you here. With all the actual hard darkness going on in this company your softcore bullshit can go take a back seat.”
Ciara rolls her eyes.
“Dawn. Dawn, you are under the impression I didn’t want to damage you the way I damaged Kate as me going soft. You really think I can’t break your fucking face if I wanted to? That fight was about testing our skills, nothing on the line but having a good old-fashioned brawl with a crowd.”
Ciara sits back, crossing her legs at the knee.
“You want to play dirty? We can play dirty.”
Ciara holds the apple with both hands.
“You’re a broken twisted little doll that likes to pretend nothing can touch her. I know you Dawn. You can shit talk better than anyone. You can go hard and long in the ring. But you are nothing more than a rose that tries to smell like a rotting corpse to keep anyone from getting too close.”
Ciara gives the camera dark and cold look.
“You’re lonely. You talk like you don’t need anyone or anything. You act like nothing matters to you. That no words ever said to you matter. Because you’ve spent your whole life trying to keep anyone from seeing how fucking damaged you are. Because that’s what you are Dawn. Damaged. Your mum died, you went on a journey to come face to face with a man she didn’t want you to even know about until she was dead.”
Ciara gives a soft chuckle.
“Dawn, love, don’t you think there’s a reason she didn’t want you to know about him until she was dead and gone? Because she likely knew there was nothing good that would come from letting him in your life. She knew how broken you were, how you would do everything for a man who's done nothing for you that she didn’t want to be alive to see you betray her with that outpouring of affection.”
Ciara tsks.
“Let’s look at the track record your daddy dearest has, hm? Dead, tortured-brainwashed-cult-member and you. Not the stellar breeding it’s bragged about is it?”
Ciara smirks.
“Some people are just born with tragedy in their blood. You’re a Kane, that’s your legacy. As much as your lot tries to pretend it’s about being hardcore in the ring. As much as your family tries to sell that darkness as what they’ll be known for we all know better. It’s a fucking tragedy. That’s your legacy. That’s your old man’s. That’s your brothers. That’s what you’ve been drinking since you were born. Misfortune is practically the only friend you allow to get close to you, isn’t it?”
Ciara traces the apple slowly as she keeps looking at the camera.
“But what does what I have to say matter? Nothing I say really matters, does it? Not to you. It doesn’t matter how much energy anyone pours into you, does it? No. Because all you have cared about from the moment Spike Kane acknowledged you as one of his bastards was his. You are so fucking starved for his approval you would forsake everything we’ve built for a ‘good girl’ and a ‘I’m proud of you’, wouldn’t you?”
Ciara holds the apple up near her face.
“How long will it before you take the step we all know is coming?”
Ciara shakes the apple at the camera.
“We’re similar Dawn. I know you better than anyone. I understand why you’re going to do it. I get the feeling you’ll understand too.”
Ciara tosses the apple up and catches it.
“Which brings me to the one and only Maxine fucking Valentine.”
Ciara takes a deep breath.
“The one person in this company I have been dying to get my hands on. Considering how some of the others have turned out after getting manhandled by a member of your cult I guess I should feel good I got off mildly should I?”
Ciara taps the apple with her finger.
“I want to rip you apart.”
Ciara leans forward.
“How hard in that cage will it be to break your spine? Think they got the juice to put you back together again if I break it this time? As much as I would love the chance to win this match and go on to get that title shot I’m going to be honest here, Max, mostly I’m looking forward to hurting you.”
Ciara tosses the apple up again.
“See, thing is. You woke this up in me. All this rage. This urge to get back in the ring? You did that.”
Ciara catches it.
“I am anger. I am hostile fury. I am an all-consuming fire of hatred for you. Someone more adjusted might have cried that out. But I’m not that kind of girl. I’m going to make you bleed Max. I’m going to fuck you up. All this rage? All the helpless fury I had while I waited to be found? I’ve been channeling it all just for you.”
Ciara uncrosses her legs.
“I’ve hesitated to come for you. The nightmares, I’m honest enough with myself to admit it took time for you not to be the subject of every nightmare I’ve had since that day. But there are no heroes who exact vengeance for you. I’ve gotten past it. I have to handle things by myself.”
Ciara looks at the apple.
“So come on, Max. Bare your teeth at me. I’m going to pull them out one by fucking one. I’m not scared of you anymore. I’ve turned my fear into rage. You want to battle, Max? Fine. Let’s go to war in that goddamned cage.”
Ciara takes a bite of the apple and swallows.
“That goes for any of you worthless pieces of shit. Come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough. I’ll fucking end you.”
“Hello, friends and enemies. I’m not going to bullshit you all and pretend I understand how most of us got into this match. Some of us apparently just needed to humiliate someone in the ring and management hands you a spot for this. But here we are. The six women management have picked to end this pay per view.”
Ciara pauses a moment.
“Dark Reign.”
Ciara sighs.
“Fucking edge lords the lot of you.”
Ciara shakes her head.
“Iron Maiden. Glory and Gore go hand and hand in this match. This is the moment for all of us to fucking destroy something beautiful. This is the time to build an empire. This is the moment we all prove how the rest of the year is going to go. This is a make or break moment. We’ll be locked in a cage with no way out until victory or defeat.”
Ciara looks at the apple.
“In this kind of situation, you can fight it or accept it. Fear what’s coming or control how you react to the shit storm that is coming. People love having my name in their mouth, don’t they? Miscount me and reject me out of hand. Because I’ve spent the last few years of my life behind Vivienne?”
Ciara purses her lips for a moment.
“I get it.”
Ciara shrugs.
“I wasn’t made to be soft and quiet. I wasn’t made to stand at the sidelines and say words of encouragement. I wasn’t built to stand by and let people get away with everything they’ve ever done. That’s not who I am. I’ve never been that person. I was made to make the world shatter and shake under my touch.”
Bounces an apple in her right hand.
“That’s what you all seem to misunderstand. You assume because I have been Vivienne’s manager all this time that clearly, she and I are the same person. Take a look at how things went with Kate Steele. She was nothing and I treated her as such. I demoralized her. But sure, I’m soft. I’m weak. I am the easy target. Because there was a time I tried to be the person who could be soft. Could be the type who would be good to take home to family dinners.”
Ciara tosses the apple to her left hand.
“That trial ended the moment I was left on a roof.”
Ciara looks hard into the camera.
“Who that girl was? The one that wanted to be those things? I abandoned that path. I am violent. I am bitter. I am cruel. I have made no secret that I am not some soft wilting flower. I have subjected Kate Steele to that multiple times, haven’t I? Ah, but that doesn’t count, right? Because it only matters if I beat someone important. Well, now’s the time to get that win. Someone ‘important’.”
Sitting alone in the hotel room with some random Youtube videos playing in the background. She didn’t really want to watch anything, she really didn’t care about it but liked having the noise as she scrolled through Instagram on her phone. The PlayStation controller’s batteries had died about half an hour ago and she’d reached peak comfort level on the couch anyway.
“Ciara O’Conner is one of the women selected to be in IWF’s iron maiden match this year at the darkly titled Dark Reign Pay Per View this year. Spooky indeed.”
Ciara glanced up at the TV, thumb frozen on the screen.
“Many people wonder who she is outside of being a manager—and trust me I will address that—but who is she? Well, here are the 10 Thing IWF wants you to forget about Ciara O’Connor.”
Ciara tilted her head slightly.
“Number 10, Sexy Saint Patrick.”
“Kill me…”
“There is a calendar out there full of women from a rooster she was in getting all cheese caked up. It was the early 2000’s. It was part of a terrible situation where the best girl would get a shot at Ami for the title. It was borderline racist in some of the things it had its girls doing and this photo is no exception. And…Yes, I did buy it but mostly because I am a terrible person. I feel deep personal shame but I was a fifteen-year-old boy at the time.”
“Number 9, That whole angle with Lord Deforrest.”
“Everyone would like to forget that, thanks.”
“Women’s wrestling, as I’ve covered before, has not always been what one would call respectful. We’ve also covered this garbage fire before so let’s just hit the high lights. For those who don’t know, Deforrest was a French stereotype and Ciara was a woman. Since they were the two members of the rooster in Japan from Europe clearly they must be seeing each other! It was awful. Deforrest clearly wasn’t into her. She clearly wasn’t into him. It was awkward. It was dreadful. The fact his wedding was leaked on twitter half way through didn’t help matters. The fact the kept it going making Ciara the side bitch just made it worse.”
“Number 8, That Win a date match.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake.”
“Yeah, not the greatest situation to be in and likely not something Ciara herself would want to be known, but her first in the ring situation was with this. The owner of the ill-fated SIPWA got in a bit of a pickle with this one when he offered up a date with his niece to convince two stablemates to actually fight on his show. It was poor taste. It was an awful match. She was a teenager. It was awful, awful stuff.”
“Number 7, She’s more than an underrated manager.”
Ciara chuckled.
“I know I might be one of the few vocal about it but… yeah. She had her time on the indy scene with a lot of promotions. She has held a few small titles. Since getting cleared to compete she hasn’t really been utilized the way one would think she would. I know those of us who’ve followed her career might be a bit of an oddity, one of the indy girls not being straight up discovered by their brand is rare these days and the fact she came in the way she did might have something to do with it but there we are. She spends most of her time managing Vivienne Rodgers and Dawn Kane. Oh I know that’s not the last name but she’s a Kane to me and I love her for it.”
“Course you do.”
“Number 6 She broke her neck.”
Ciara sighed.
“In what was a pretty brutal match to be honest, Ciara O’Connor got a broken neck at a live showdown in Mexico. It was pretty server and honestly, I wouldn’t recommend watching it but hey, Neither would IWF. She’s clearly passed the health screening and is tip top now but that match… That was what many thoughts was career ending.”
Ciara shook her head, she remembered the match well enough and didn’t like the reminder so bluntly stated.
“Number 5, Her family history.”
Ciara glared at the dead controller, weighing her option on getting off the couch.
“Listen, no one’s family history is perfect. My Dad’s a deadbeat too but the fact of the matter is, there’s a high-risk factor given the number of arrests and jail time in that family tree anyone with even a bit of a working knowledge of google or the dirt sheets know she doesn’t come from a good place. Tragic really.”
“Number 4, The Leg Breaker for the Irish Mob gimmick.”
“Oi…”
“Listen, it was one of her best. It’s the one that got her two championship runs at the indy promotion in New York. It was so good. Really, you need to look that up. She plaid the part perfectly. It was part of a faction that really dealt with that and she nailed it. Some of her best work, in my personal brand of tea. So good, and again I mention the family ties here but I’m not going to make any broad assumptions about how well she knew how to do that part.”
“Number 3, She used to wrestle men.”
Ciara groaned.
“It’s not popular on the main stage and certainly not allowed in IWF but there was a time, specifically as her Leg Breaker gimmick where she used to be unleashed on the men that her Irish Mob faction needed to be taken care of quietly. Can anyone forget the ‘You boys traveled together before’ segment? I sure can’t. Watch it every morning before I get out of bed.”
“Seriously. That was ages ago. Let it go.” Ciara tried pressing the center button to get the controller back on to skip the video but it only blinked before dying again.
“Number 2, She actually beat Vivienne Rodgers in the ring.”
Ciara rolled her eyes going back to her phone.
“I know what you’re thinking, why would that even be on this list? Anyone who paid attention to the lesser known independent circuits knows Ciara used to be a bit of a show stopper. But with the way IWF books things you’d think Vivienne and Ciara had been best friends for life. But the truth of the matter was Ciara used to beat her often. When she was out with her injury she started helping Rodgers out and I guess they are best friend for life now but it wasn’t always that way.”
“What possible shit from my past ya going to throw up now?”
“And number 1, SHE’S A GODDAMNED HEEL!”
Ciara felt a new sense of unease.
“I know she’s managing basically one of the few women who’s a face for IWF right now. I know that. I watch the program like I have nothing else to live for. Vivienne is basically that meme about a cinnamon roll too good and pure for this world. Ciara being her manager kind of paints her in a similar light. Except…That’s never been a part of her personality. She’s always been a heel. She has always been a shit talking, violent monster. That’s why we loved her. And you see that peaking through from time to time when they let her out of the back but mostly it’s been pretty tame. Her matches were always brutal. She was always a hard-hitting badass. Maybe not career ending injuries handed out like candy—see our video on top ten things IWF wants you to forget about Rowan—But she’s a sight to behold. Honestly, I’m concerned maybe she doesn’t have the taste for it anymore, maybe she’s gone soft, maybe she got some anger management classes, I don’t know! But I miss her. Maybe we’ll see that side of her again? Likely not but a boy can dream, can’t he?”
Ciara clenched her fist.
“Did we miss any out? Let us know in the comments. Don’t forget to like, share and subscribe—”
Ciara threw the controller at the tv as hard as she could, causing the tv to go crashing to the ground with a crunch.
“Abigail. What is this redneck piece of trash even doing here? You lost. You shouldn’t be here. There’s a couple girls in the back who aren’t on this show who should have your spot. You don’t deserve this position and I have no doubt you’ll be the one to pin. You’re white trash. You’ll always be white trash. No one will mourn you when you finally go back to the little hell hole in Texas you belong.”
Ciara yawns.
“No one considers you a threat. No one looks at you and see anyone worthy of being the forefront of women’s wrestling. You’re bland. You’re boring. But not even in the interesting way someone could have as background noise. Just plain skippable.”
Ciara tosses the apple in the air.
“Rayne. How the mighty have fallen, yeah?”
Ciara catches the apple.
“Everyone likes to go on about how important you were. I know I’ve had to sit back and listen to my client praise you over and over again. And honestly? I’m fucking sick of it. I’m sick of everyone feeling the need to jerk you off about what you did for this industry. Who cares anymore? You never made it to a hall of Famer. You’re not better than anyone else who still works in this industry just because you’ve been doing it longer than us.”
Ciara makes a face of disgust.
“You’re old hat. You’re boring. You’ll deliver the same garbage you always do. You’ll talk about how important you are to history, well funny thing that. You act like you’re the only one who matters, that all those women who helped you make this industry what it is don’t matter. That only you matter. Get fucked. You’re a relic of a bygone age and we are all bored of you. There are a billion things you could be doing to improve this industry but you pick being on the front line yelling at the void at how we should all drop to our knees and thank above and below you happened to exists. Bored. Go take your bow so this division can get some actual fresh air in it.”
Ciara waves the idea off dismissively.
“Helena Sawyer? The girl I’ve heard so much about? Big Miss Spooky pants who went toe to toe with Eternity? Who everyone said was this big terrible scary thing and yet…”
Ciara motions.
“Where were you? When Rowan got defanged at Survival of the Fittest and was left all empty and broken? When The Pack was at it’s weakest where was this darkness? Where were you? She was right there. Weak, mostly helpless. The Pack’s female members were ripe for the goddamned picking.”
Ciara gets an angry look in her eye.
“They kidnapped your girl, didn’t they? Didn’t you love her? Didn’t she mean anything to you?! That would have been your fucking moment to rain bloody vengeance. That would have been the moment to pop out of the wood-work and crushed their pain worshipping skulls! You could have hurt them in the way they hurt her!”
Ciara’s grip on the apple tightens.
“Oh, but it was never really about that, was it? No. You didn’t care about what-ever her name was. You were busy lusting after co-workers. You only really want to fight The Pack when it involves a title, right?”
Ciara scuffs.
“You’re pathetic. You’re not special. You’re a spooky little bitch who can’t quite reach the levels of Rowan or Eternity. At least their spooky edge lord bullshit had some kind of power behind it. What are you? A theater kid who couldn’t hack it on Broadway, huh? Well after you lose this I bet you can get in on some small town production. No one missed you here. With all the actual hard darkness going on in this company your softcore bullshit can go take a back seat.”
Ciara rolls her eyes.
“Dawn. Dawn, you are under the impression I didn’t want to damage you the way I damaged Kate as me going soft. You really think I can’t break your fucking face if I wanted to? That fight was about testing our skills, nothing on the line but having a good old-fashioned brawl with a crowd.”
Ciara sits back, crossing her legs at the knee.
“You want to play dirty? We can play dirty.”
Ciara holds the apple with both hands.
“You’re a broken twisted little doll that likes to pretend nothing can touch her. I know you Dawn. You can shit talk better than anyone. You can go hard and long in the ring. But you are nothing more than a rose that tries to smell like a rotting corpse to keep anyone from getting too close.”
Ciara gives the camera dark and cold look.
“You’re lonely. You talk like you don’t need anyone or anything. You act like nothing matters to you. That no words ever said to you matter. Because you’ve spent your whole life trying to keep anyone from seeing how fucking damaged you are. Because that’s what you are Dawn. Damaged. Your mum died, you went on a journey to come face to face with a man she didn’t want you to even know about until she was dead.”
Ciara gives a soft chuckle.
“Dawn, love, don’t you think there’s a reason she didn’t want you to know about him until she was dead and gone? Because she likely knew there was nothing good that would come from letting him in your life. She knew how broken you were, how you would do everything for a man who's done nothing for you that she didn’t want to be alive to see you betray her with that outpouring of affection.”
Ciara tsks.
“Let’s look at the track record your daddy dearest has, hm? Dead, tortured-brainwashed-cult-member and you. Not the stellar breeding it’s bragged about is it?”
Ciara smirks.
“Some people are just born with tragedy in their blood. You’re a Kane, that’s your legacy. As much as your lot tries to pretend it’s about being hardcore in the ring. As much as your family tries to sell that darkness as what they’ll be known for we all know better. It’s a fucking tragedy. That’s your legacy. That’s your old man’s. That’s your brothers. That’s what you’ve been drinking since you were born. Misfortune is practically the only friend you allow to get close to you, isn’t it?”
Ciara traces the apple slowly as she keeps looking at the camera.
“But what does what I have to say matter? Nothing I say really matters, does it? Not to you. It doesn’t matter how much energy anyone pours into you, does it? No. Because all you have cared about from the moment Spike Kane acknowledged you as one of his bastards was his. You are so fucking starved for his approval you would forsake everything we’ve built for a ‘good girl’ and a ‘I’m proud of you’, wouldn’t you?”
Ciara holds the apple up near her face.
“How long will it before you take the step we all know is coming?”
Ciara shakes the apple at the camera.
“We’re similar Dawn. I know you better than anyone. I understand why you’re going to do it. I get the feeling you’ll understand too.”
Ciara tosses the apple up and catches it.
“Which brings me to the one and only Maxine fucking Valentine.”
Ciara takes a deep breath.
“The one person in this company I have been dying to get my hands on. Considering how some of the others have turned out after getting manhandled by a member of your cult I guess I should feel good I got off mildly should I?”
Ciara taps the apple with her finger.
“I want to rip you apart.”
Ciara leans forward.
“How hard in that cage will it be to break your spine? Think they got the juice to put you back together again if I break it this time? As much as I would love the chance to win this match and go on to get that title shot I’m going to be honest here, Max, mostly I’m looking forward to hurting you.”
Ciara tosses the apple up again.
“See, thing is. You woke this up in me. All this rage. This urge to get back in the ring? You did that.”
Ciara catches it.
“I am anger. I am hostile fury. I am an all-consuming fire of hatred for you. Someone more adjusted might have cried that out. But I’m not that kind of girl. I’m going to make you bleed Max. I’m going to fuck you up. All this rage? All the helpless fury I had while I waited to be found? I’ve been channeling it all just for you.”
Ciara uncrosses her legs.
“I’ve hesitated to come for you. The nightmares, I’m honest enough with myself to admit it took time for you not to be the subject of every nightmare I’ve had since that day. But there are no heroes who exact vengeance for you. I’ve gotten past it. I have to handle things by myself.”
Ciara looks at the apple.
“So come on, Max. Bare your teeth at me. I’m going to pull them out one by fucking one. I’m not scared of you anymore. I’ve turned my fear into rage. You want to battle, Max? Fine. Let’s go to war in that goddamned cage.”
Ciara takes a bite of the apple and swallows.
“That goes for any of you worthless pieces of shit. Come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough. I’ll fucking end you.”
Well howdy there pardner.