Post by Fiona McFly on Jun 25, 2018 0:50:26 GMT
“The waiting seems eternity.
The day will dawn of sanity.
Is this a kind of magic?
(It's a kind of magic.)
There can be only one.
This rage that lasts a thousand years
Will soon be done.
This flame that burns inside of me.
I'm hearing secret harmonies.
It's a kind of magic.
The bell that rings inside your mind
Is challenging the doors of time...”
~~~
Part I
“A KIND OF MAGIC”
A bright, white light.
A warm burst of wind.
Everything was sudden as Fiona McFly’s entire world began flashing in front of her eyes. Her face was expressionless as everything and anything about her own existence flowed around her like a tapestry of sight, colour, and sound.
FIONA MCFLY:
...wha?! What is this!?! What is going on here!?!
The white transitioned into the living room of a house that was well-decorated for a very special occasion. There were green and silver balloons adorning the walls on all sides with a large banner reading “HAPPY BIRTHDAY FIFI!!!” in black lettering. Fiona couldn’t see any of it though, as she was sitting blindfolded in the middle of the room as Queen music played from an old-fashioned vinyl player. Suddenly, we see a hand slowly take off the sleep-shade from her eyes, which widen in delight at the sights and sounds around her.
Even as an ultra-rare snowfall blanketed the vast fields on the outside, inside it felt warm, loving, and comfortable all around. Yet as if on some sort of cue...
”SURPRIIIIIIIIIISE!!!!!”
...everyone and anyone that had ever known Fiona burst into the room with smiles on their faces, carrying bags upon bags full of goodies. Her mentor Regina Kimble was there, along with her beloved grandfather Seamus McFly and even her teenaged son Kirk. They all adorned Fiona with with the gifts, showering her with hugs and warm wishes of love and joy the likes of which she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
And then...there was her husband, Jack Gaither.
He strolled into the picture, sporting a head full of natural brown hair and a Sean Lee Cowboys jersey, and handed her a giant slice of the famous double-chocolate fudge birthday cake he would make for her on her birthday.
JACK GAITHER:
Happy birthday, darlin’...
Fiona gushed, her smile radiating throughout the house as she peered outside the window. Snow had blanketed the ground as the skies gave way to bright sunshine and freezing temperatures, and in Texas--especially for April--it was quite unusual to see the white stuff at the onset of spring.
A little too unusual, even by her standards.
Perhaps...a little too perfect.
FIONA:
This place is incredible, but...hrmm, it looks like our ranch in Fredericksburg.
JACK:
Oh, it’s much better hun--welcome to Eden.
Fiona perked up her brow, not even realising that she was, quite literally, in one of the most idyllic settings one can imagine.
FIONA:
Eden?! You mean--
JACK:
Yup. Some folks call it Heaven, others call it Nirvana, but the concept of this joint remains the same. Time ain’t linear, for it has no meanin’. The predators have no teeth.
Fiona gasped, trying to contemplate the predicament she had found herself in whilst preoccupied with her chocolate delight.
FIONA:
How did I end up here!?!
JACK:
Somebody took the life outta yer body, and this is where the spirit goes when that happens. BUT…
Jack paused for a moment, watching his love slowly munch away at her cake.
JACK:
...I’m afraid ya got some business to attend to down on the Corporeal Plane. That’s a directive from the Big Pilgrim Upstairs.
Fiona shook her head, trying to enjoy her dessert yet protesting the fact that she had died but was revived shortly after.
FIONA:
I want to stay...I really, really want to stay. This has everything I could ever have wanted...why pull me away from here!?!
Jack sat down next to her, comforting her with an arm wrapped around her shoulders.
JACK:
I know ya do, hun...so does everyone in this room. Thing is, our physical bodies are already expired, so naturally our business on the planet is finished. Your body...well, it’s still breathin’, which means ya still gotta keep up the good fight ‘til it eventually does the ultimate hokey-pokey and knocks itself out for good.
Fiona’s face turned into an expressionless demeanour, not even comprehending what he was trying to talk about.
FIONA:
When do I have to go back? I want to get this demon out of me head. It afflicted me fifteen years ago and I can’t remember how. All I know is that I’m the direct cause of it, but...I can’t do it alone.
He nodded, understanding his wife’s plight.
JACK:
Hrmm...the Big Boss wants ya to enjoy this cake, so He's gonna let ya stay for just a l'il bit. Truth is, I know you’re fightin’ with yourself for the right to exist as a human bein’, but...you’ll never be alone, just remember that...
Jack’s works faded away as, all of a sudden, a different voice rang from the heavens above, as if it was beckoning her to complete a different task than the one that was presented in front of her. There was a flash of light…
...and then soon, nothing but darkness.
“Do you remember...”
The voice grew louder and louder, pulling Fiona further and further away from Eden as it continued to call out to her.
“Fifteen years ago, on that night when the demon ‘Caligula’ afflicted you…?”
Eventually, Fiona woke up inside her bedroom in the house on Wolf Creek and gazed into the hazel eyes of her spiritual counselor, Dr. Jessica Franklin, a vibrant-looking woman the same age as her standing over head with a notepad in her hand, rapidly taking notes. Dr. Franklin watched as Fiona outstretched her arms and slowly crept out of bed, but not before peering out the window and staring into the hot and dry summer conditions that had overtaken Arlington and all of North Texas.
Fiona was back in the real world, nothing more than a mere mortal.
Even worse, she had no memory of the day in question…
...or did she!?!
~TO BE CONTINUED~
~~~
Demons.
Some call them nothing more than a kind of magic utilised by magicians to put on a good show.
Yet they are real to me--very real.
I have been afflicted by one for the last fifteen years, and I cannot remember how it happened to begin with. All I know is that, whilst I have tried so hard to keep it hidden in me soul for all this time, it has shown up with a vengeance and affected me in ways in which I can’t even begin to describe. As a human being, I can only take responsibility for allowing this monster to come into me mind when I should be focused on doing what is good and fair.
And I’ve hurt a lot of people in the process.
I’m not going to lie...a demon is a very evil thing to have in your head when you strive to do what is right every day of your life. They lie to you by claiming that they are the only salvation in life only to pull at you to follow their lead. They’ll even kill you ‘cos of their willingness to show off their might and power.
Yet there is so much more to them than, perhaps, I can fully comprehend.
Metaphorically speaking, in light of what happened to me two weeks ago by Rowan’s hands, it would be too easy to simply seek out help to remove a demon and wash your hands of it. When you think about it, when one goes away another one will simply show up to take its place. I’ve had to keep reminding myself that the best--and greatest--way to fight off a demon isn’t through some chant, but rather...fighting through it, overcoming it with your actions and not simply just ‘words.’ That being said, if there’s one place I’d rather be, it’s in a ring, and this week? It is, perhaps, one of the bloodiest, most unholy concepts I have ever seen.
The Last Rites.
Nineteen other women will have their own reasons in which to fight this match. Some are doing this out of motivation to honour someone they lost. Others are doing this in the name of seeking more power and vanity for themselves and those they consider ‘best friends.’ Yet still, others are doing this in the guise of ‘family’ whilst escalating a needless, pointless war that has seen enough bloodshed and casualties.
Call it what you will, but those are motivations that are admirable in their own right. Yet when the questions come to me about what I’m fighting for in a singular word, the answer isn’t as simple as one might think.
Freedom.
Not simply from oppression or tyranny by another physical force...but from self-annihilation. I am fighting for the simple yet fundamental right to live as a loving, caring human being, for the of honour of seeing the rays of light to shine into me own soul and collapse the very spectre that has plagued me for a long, long time.
And if I have to pay a price for this freedom from the so-called unconquerable foe, then I will welcome it with open arms.
‘Cos quite frankly, I’m probably the unlikeliest person in this match given recent circumstances.
I’ve listened to the skeptics, those who’ve been critical of me ever since I took on Ana Valentine in me first match. They’ve said I was ‘too nice’ at first. They’ve said I was mentally incapable of working this gig--that I was too polarising. They’ve even gone so far as to compare me personal life to that of a fictional soap opera, that everything I’ve been through--even me husband’s FUNERAL--was nothing but fiction! It’s the same old song-and-dance routine that they have performed in front of me ever since I joined this company in 2015, ever since I made a commitment to living and breathing this wonderous sport.
THREE. FUCKING! YEARS!
...
I’ll apologise for those words...that’s the anger in me showing, the Satanic monster in me head rearing its ugly, vile, evil visage for the world to see. It’s a negative emotion that I try so hard to control yet it’s always crept up on me at the worst time. That is what demons do besides lie or even kill, they twist your mind into becoming a completely different person than what you have always strived to be.
It’s not a pleasant sight, trust me. I know that from experience.
When you see me get angry, sad, or depressed...I turn into this vicious, vile, malevolent being that cannot control me actions, that has no remorse or courage to take responsibility for the things I say or do. When I think about it, when I become something I’m not, it only brings with it hardship and pain--not just to myself but to others as well...and I cannot live like that anymore.
I’m better than ‘that other person’ people think I am.
If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have been a former Iron Maiden, Heiress semi-finalist, and everything else in-between.
I got killed once on this journey I’ve been on or three years. I saw everything about me whole life--then and now--flash before me eyes. I experienced the joys and wonders of seeing a perfect world in nonlinear time, spending the moments I had with me loved ones, and being free of those that would do me harm. Yet I was sent back to this corporeal realm ’cos in the minds of many of me worst critics AND biggest supporters, I have unfinished business to attend to, that I have a story that hasn’t been completed.
It won’t be overnight, it won’t be easy...but if anyone thinks I’m supposed to be afraid of the lot I’ll be up against, much less question me personal life or how hard I work, I won’t pass anything else onto them except this loud, clear message:
#TryMe
‘Cos I’m not backing down from anyone.
After all...the worst thing a demon can ever make me do, aside from anything else I experience with it...is run away from a battle like a coward instead of facing it with me head held high! I’m not scared of going into a situation involving weapons and other forms of chaos. I’m not afraid to get down into the muck and grime, getting me hands dirty and bloody, for the greater good. I’m not frightened about taking on an entire world that would rather have me head on a silver platter.
‘Cos I will be the one to elevate myself and transcend to a level the likes of which you have never, EVER seen before; after all, even in death and despair or times of malice and oppression, there is always…hope.
Hope never dies, even if you’re fighting against a faceless enemy in your mind, there is always a way to beat it.
And beat it, I shall.
When I walk into an arena, put me uniform and boots on, and step into that ring...I am compelled to place me whole life on the line each and every night ‘cos I aspire to be the beacon of light that many people are so quick to dismiss when I become ‘that other person’ instead of myself. Now, in spite of everything else going on in me head, I do so with a singular purpose that defines the very essence of who I am and who I want to be:
Proving people wrong, time and time again--no matter the result.
This is going to be quite a difficult match, that much is clear. I’m fully aware that nineteen others will have a differing opinion about me. Some will laugh, some will lecture, some will even utilise their fancy parlour tricks against me. I’m very much conscious of the fact that I’m going to be receiving punishment on par with what Rowan did to me two weeks ago. I am going to go through all kinds of hell--and I welcome every second of it.
It will be all worth it when the smoke clears…
...for the biggest mistake you all ever made was awaken me.
The truth is, I’m not simply ‘lucky’ to even be standing here after what Rowan did to me. I’m blessed beyond any measure of gratitude to be alive, to be among those that either like or dislike me. This gig has been quite a thrill for me with its share of ups and downs, and there is no better place, no better company, in the world I’d rather be in now than the IWF.
If I didn’t feel blessed to be a part of this company, then...I would be in a much different place, an interminable hellhole that I probably would never have been able to escape from.
But let’s be perflectly clear.
Even as the clouds hang over me, I am going to live on and survive ‘til the bitter end. I am GOING to overcome the very beast that has plagued me for all these years. I am GOING to become a Champion--not for the sake of false idols, packs of wolves, or best friends, but for the sake of the greater good in me soul rising above the darkness.
No matter what happens, I will never be alone from this moment onward.
Never.
The day will dawn of sanity.
Is this a kind of magic?
(It's a kind of magic.)
There can be only one.
This rage that lasts a thousand years
Will soon be done.
This flame that burns inside of me.
I'm hearing secret harmonies.
It's a kind of magic.
The bell that rings inside your mind
Is challenging the doors of time...”
~~~
Part I
“A KIND OF MAGIC”
A bright, white light.
A warm burst of wind.
Everything was sudden as Fiona McFly’s entire world began flashing in front of her eyes. Her face was expressionless as everything and anything about her own existence flowed around her like a tapestry of sight, colour, and sound.
FIONA MCFLY:
...wha?! What is this!?! What is going on here!?!
The white transitioned into the living room of a house that was well-decorated for a very special occasion. There were green and silver balloons adorning the walls on all sides with a large banner reading “HAPPY BIRTHDAY FIFI!!!” in black lettering. Fiona couldn’t see any of it though, as she was sitting blindfolded in the middle of the room as Queen music played from an old-fashioned vinyl player. Suddenly, we see a hand slowly take off the sleep-shade from her eyes, which widen in delight at the sights and sounds around her.
Even as an ultra-rare snowfall blanketed the vast fields on the outside, inside it felt warm, loving, and comfortable all around. Yet as if on some sort of cue...
”SURPRIIIIIIIIIISE!!!!!”
...everyone and anyone that had ever known Fiona burst into the room with smiles on their faces, carrying bags upon bags full of goodies. Her mentor Regina Kimble was there, along with her beloved grandfather Seamus McFly and even her teenaged son Kirk. They all adorned Fiona with with the gifts, showering her with hugs and warm wishes of love and joy the likes of which she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
And then...there was her husband, Jack Gaither.
He strolled into the picture, sporting a head full of natural brown hair and a Sean Lee Cowboys jersey, and handed her a giant slice of the famous double-chocolate fudge birthday cake he would make for her on her birthday.
JACK GAITHER:
Happy birthday, darlin’...
Fiona gushed, her smile radiating throughout the house as she peered outside the window. Snow had blanketed the ground as the skies gave way to bright sunshine and freezing temperatures, and in Texas--especially for April--it was quite unusual to see the white stuff at the onset of spring.
A little too unusual, even by her standards.
Perhaps...a little too perfect.
FIONA:
This place is incredible, but...hrmm, it looks like our ranch in Fredericksburg.
JACK:
Oh, it’s much better hun--welcome to Eden.
Fiona perked up her brow, not even realising that she was, quite literally, in one of the most idyllic settings one can imagine.
FIONA:
Eden?! You mean--
JACK:
Yup. Some folks call it Heaven, others call it Nirvana, but the concept of this joint remains the same. Time ain’t linear, for it has no meanin’. The predators have no teeth.
Fiona gasped, trying to contemplate the predicament she had found herself in whilst preoccupied with her chocolate delight.
FIONA:
How did I end up here!?!
JACK:
Somebody took the life outta yer body, and this is where the spirit goes when that happens. BUT…
Jack paused for a moment, watching his love slowly munch away at her cake.
JACK:
...I’m afraid ya got some business to attend to down on the Corporeal Plane. That’s a directive from the Big Pilgrim Upstairs.
Fiona shook her head, trying to enjoy her dessert yet protesting the fact that she had died but was revived shortly after.
FIONA:
I want to stay...I really, really want to stay. This has everything I could ever have wanted...why pull me away from here!?!
Jack sat down next to her, comforting her with an arm wrapped around her shoulders.
JACK:
I know ya do, hun...so does everyone in this room. Thing is, our physical bodies are already expired, so naturally our business on the planet is finished. Your body...well, it’s still breathin’, which means ya still gotta keep up the good fight ‘til it eventually does the ultimate hokey-pokey and knocks itself out for good.
Fiona’s face turned into an expressionless demeanour, not even comprehending what he was trying to talk about.
FIONA:
When do I have to go back? I want to get this demon out of me head. It afflicted me fifteen years ago and I can’t remember how. All I know is that I’m the direct cause of it, but...I can’t do it alone.
He nodded, understanding his wife’s plight.
JACK:
Hrmm...the Big Boss wants ya to enjoy this cake, so He's gonna let ya stay for just a l'il bit. Truth is, I know you’re fightin’ with yourself for the right to exist as a human bein’, but...you’ll never be alone, just remember that...
Jack’s works faded away as, all of a sudden, a different voice rang from the heavens above, as if it was beckoning her to complete a different task than the one that was presented in front of her. There was a flash of light…
...and then soon, nothing but darkness.
“Do you remember...”
The voice grew louder and louder, pulling Fiona further and further away from Eden as it continued to call out to her.
“Fifteen years ago, on that night when the demon ‘Caligula’ afflicted you…?”
Eventually, Fiona woke up inside her bedroom in the house on Wolf Creek and gazed into the hazel eyes of her spiritual counselor, Dr. Jessica Franklin, a vibrant-looking woman the same age as her standing over head with a notepad in her hand, rapidly taking notes. Dr. Franklin watched as Fiona outstretched her arms and slowly crept out of bed, but not before peering out the window and staring into the hot and dry summer conditions that had overtaken Arlington and all of North Texas.
Fiona was back in the real world, nothing more than a mere mortal.
Even worse, she had no memory of the day in question…
...or did she!?!
~TO BE CONTINUED~
~~~
Demons.
Some call them nothing more than a kind of magic utilised by magicians to put on a good show.
Yet they are real to me--very real.
I have been afflicted by one for the last fifteen years, and I cannot remember how it happened to begin with. All I know is that, whilst I have tried so hard to keep it hidden in me soul for all this time, it has shown up with a vengeance and affected me in ways in which I can’t even begin to describe. As a human being, I can only take responsibility for allowing this monster to come into me mind when I should be focused on doing what is good and fair.
And I’ve hurt a lot of people in the process.
I’m not going to lie...a demon is a very evil thing to have in your head when you strive to do what is right every day of your life. They lie to you by claiming that they are the only salvation in life only to pull at you to follow their lead. They’ll even kill you ‘cos of their willingness to show off their might and power.
Yet there is so much more to them than, perhaps, I can fully comprehend.
Metaphorically speaking, in light of what happened to me two weeks ago by Rowan’s hands, it would be too easy to simply seek out help to remove a demon and wash your hands of it. When you think about it, when one goes away another one will simply show up to take its place. I’ve had to keep reminding myself that the best--and greatest--way to fight off a demon isn’t through some chant, but rather...fighting through it, overcoming it with your actions and not simply just ‘words.’ That being said, if there’s one place I’d rather be, it’s in a ring, and this week? It is, perhaps, one of the bloodiest, most unholy concepts I have ever seen.
The Last Rites.
Nineteen other women will have their own reasons in which to fight this match. Some are doing this out of motivation to honour someone they lost. Others are doing this in the name of seeking more power and vanity for themselves and those they consider ‘best friends.’ Yet still, others are doing this in the guise of ‘family’ whilst escalating a needless, pointless war that has seen enough bloodshed and casualties.
Call it what you will, but those are motivations that are admirable in their own right. Yet when the questions come to me about what I’m fighting for in a singular word, the answer isn’t as simple as one might think.
Freedom.
Not simply from oppression or tyranny by another physical force...but from self-annihilation. I am fighting for the simple yet fundamental right to live as a loving, caring human being, for the of honour of seeing the rays of light to shine into me own soul and collapse the very spectre that has plagued me for a long, long time.
And if I have to pay a price for this freedom from the so-called unconquerable foe, then I will welcome it with open arms.
‘Cos quite frankly, I’m probably the unlikeliest person in this match given recent circumstances.
I’ve listened to the skeptics, those who’ve been critical of me ever since I took on Ana Valentine in me first match. They’ve said I was ‘too nice’ at first. They’ve said I was mentally incapable of working this gig--that I was too polarising. They’ve even gone so far as to compare me personal life to that of a fictional soap opera, that everything I’ve been through--even me husband’s FUNERAL--was nothing but fiction! It’s the same old song-and-dance routine that they have performed in front of me ever since I joined this company in 2015, ever since I made a commitment to living and breathing this wonderous sport.
THREE. FUCKING! YEARS!
...
I’ll apologise for those words...that’s the anger in me showing, the Satanic monster in me head rearing its ugly, vile, evil visage for the world to see. It’s a negative emotion that I try so hard to control yet it’s always crept up on me at the worst time. That is what demons do besides lie or even kill, they twist your mind into becoming a completely different person than what you have always strived to be.
It’s not a pleasant sight, trust me. I know that from experience.
When you see me get angry, sad, or depressed...I turn into this vicious, vile, malevolent being that cannot control me actions, that has no remorse or courage to take responsibility for the things I say or do. When I think about it, when I become something I’m not, it only brings with it hardship and pain--not just to myself but to others as well...and I cannot live like that anymore.
I’m better than ‘that other person’ people think I am.
If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have been a former Iron Maiden, Heiress semi-finalist, and everything else in-between.
I got killed once on this journey I’ve been on or three years. I saw everything about me whole life--then and now--flash before me eyes. I experienced the joys and wonders of seeing a perfect world in nonlinear time, spending the moments I had with me loved ones, and being free of those that would do me harm. Yet I was sent back to this corporeal realm ’cos in the minds of many of me worst critics AND biggest supporters, I have unfinished business to attend to, that I have a story that hasn’t been completed.
It won’t be overnight, it won’t be easy...but if anyone thinks I’m supposed to be afraid of the lot I’ll be up against, much less question me personal life or how hard I work, I won’t pass anything else onto them except this loud, clear message:
#TryMe
‘Cos I’m not backing down from anyone.
After all...the worst thing a demon can ever make me do, aside from anything else I experience with it...is run away from a battle like a coward instead of facing it with me head held high! I’m not scared of going into a situation involving weapons and other forms of chaos. I’m not afraid to get down into the muck and grime, getting me hands dirty and bloody, for the greater good. I’m not frightened about taking on an entire world that would rather have me head on a silver platter.
‘Cos I will be the one to elevate myself and transcend to a level the likes of which you have never, EVER seen before; after all, even in death and despair or times of malice and oppression, there is always…hope.
Hope never dies, even if you’re fighting against a faceless enemy in your mind, there is always a way to beat it.
And beat it, I shall.
When I walk into an arena, put me uniform and boots on, and step into that ring...I am compelled to place me whole life on the line each and every night ‘cos I aspire to be the beacon of light that many people are so quick to dismiss when I become ‘that other person’ instead of myself. Now, in spite of everything else going on in me head, I do so with a singular purpose that defines the very essence of who I am and who I want to be:
Proving people wrong, time and time again--no matter the result.
This is going to be quite a difficult match, that much is clear. I’m fully aware that nineteen others will have a differing opinion about me. Some will laugh, some will lecture, some will even utilise their fancy parlour tricks against me. I’m very much conscious of the fact that I’m going to be receiving punishment on par with what Rowan did to me two weeks ago. I am going to go through all kinds of hell--and I welcome every second of it.
It will be all worth it when the smoke clears…
...for the biggest mistake you all ever made was awaken me.
The truth is, I’m not simply ‘lucky’ to even be standing here after what Rowan did to me. I’m blessed beyond any measure of gratitude to be alive, to be among those that either like or dislike me. This gig has been quite a thrill for me with its share of ups and downs, and there is no better place, no better company, in the world I’d rather be in now than the IWF.
If I didn’t feel blessed to be a part of this company, then...I would be in a much different place, an interminable hellhole that I probably would never have been able to escape from.
But let’s be perflectly clear.
Even as the clouds hang over me, I am going to live on and survive ‘til the bitter end. I am GOING to overcome the very beast that has plagued me for all these years. I am GOING to become a Champion--not for the sake of false idols, packs of wolves, or best friends, but for the sake of the greater good in me soul rising above the darkness.
No matter what happens, I will never be alone from this moment onward.
Never.
Well howdy there pardner.