Post by Jessica Reed on Sept 29, 2013 20:16:27 GMT
We re-join Jessica Reed in the house we left her, a small candle flickering as she rifles through the cupboards before reaching into one and retrieving a tin. Turning it in her hand as she tilts her head to read the label she finally decides to pull on the ring before empting the contents into a boiling pot.
Jessica Reed: Bargain Chicken…
Jessica shrugs her shoulder.
Jessica Reed: His lordship can’t be too fussy.
Stirring the soup Jess begins to bob her head from side to side as she hums the Sonic tune to herself happily before she looks up and is stunned into an abrupt silence. Her eyes grow wide as she freezes in sheer panic. Looking through the curtains she can see a small line of men negotiating their way carefully down the hill from the treeline towards the house both her and Verona are inhabiting.
Jessica Reed: This isn’t good…
Turning, Jessica runs, crashing over a vase from a table and almost tripping over a rusty bicycle before reaching the basement door. Flinging it open she screams at the top of her lungs, racing down the stairs towards Roberto.
Jessica Reed: Roberto!
Roberto winces as he tries to sit himself up, with great difficult and little success.
Jessica Reed: We’re in trouble!
Roberto Verona: What do you mean?
Jessica Reed: They followed me!
Roberto Verona: Who? Jess, slow down…
Jessica Reed: Cyrus and his goons, they must have found some of my tracks…
Jessica looks around frantically, her breathing increase rapidly as her chests heaves.
Jessica Reed: Can you move?
Roberto looks at her incredulously, his skin still pale.
Roberto Verona: Jess… I can barely sit up, you need to leave me…
Jessica Reed: No! I can’t do that, we’ll stand and fight!
Roberto Verona: That’s cute and real noble of you, but you don’t understand…
Jessica Reed: Then what exactly do you want us to do? Let’s Cyrus rape and eat us!?
Roberto Verona: Seriously? What goes on in your head? We’re in no position to fight, unless you know how many there is there’s no point standing firm, it’s a death wish, you’ve gotta get out of here and lead them away.
Jessica Reed: What if they find you? They’ll kill you.
Roberto Verona: Did you tell them I was still alive?
Jessica Reed: Well… no…
Roberto Verona: Then he has no reason to search this place; he’s here for you for whatever reason, if you run, he will follow…
Roberto pauses, trying his best to lubricate his bone dry throat.
Roberto Verona: You just need to run quicker than he can chase.
Jessica pauses, mulling something over in her mind before suddenly she leaps up, grabbing her rucksack and a nearby rifle. She returns to Verona and suddenly gets on her knees, hugging him tightly, almost squeezing the breath out of him as he groans in pain.
Jessica Reed: I hate it when you’re right… just don’t die on me old man.
Roberto Verona: Less of the old...
Jessica lets go, pulling herself back slightly as Verona smiles and slowly raises an arm, beckoning her to leave.
Roberto Verona: Go… I trust you…
Jessica smiles, avoiding eye contact as best she can through embarrassment. Lifting herself up, she turns and with a single glance back at Verona who lays back down, clutching the blankets tightly in a desperate attempt to keep warm, she launch herself hastily up the flight of stairs. Grabbing a nearby key she rifles through her pocket and produces a padlock, which she uses to secure the door to the basement.
Jessica Reed: Stay safe… I won’t let you down…
Taking a deep breathe she rushes towards the back door, kicking it open as she hurries across the backyard, carefully negotiating her way over discarded climbing frames and rusting trash cans. Busting through the rear gate to the yard she exits into a side alley where she halts, looking around here. Lifting the barrel of her rifle into the air she squeezes the trigger, letting off a single shot into the air. A few moments pass as she listens intently but soon, the sound of men shouting in the distance can be heard.
Jessica Reed: Bingo.
Turning heel she runs as quickly as she can, hopping over a fence as she negotiates her way through the backyards and decrepit houses, desperately trying to draw the men away from Roberto. As the scenes begins to fade to black we can hear a few more gunshots before suddenly, we descend into silence.
I survived.
No, seriously, I am not being melodramatic, I totally managed to survive perhaps the biggest threat to my title reign yet and quite honestly, my personal safety. E is such a crazy little chica and I am so lucky to have gotten out of that match alive, let alone left it as champion. Say what ya like about the girl, she’s one tough cookie and whilst I wouldn’t call it a fluke, I was so lucky to tangle with a girl as talented as her and still walk out champion.
And so far I’ve not grown any warts or had any hair fall out.
Touch wood.
However, when my smile was finally starting to come back…
Just when I thought it was safe to go back into the water…
I sat down and watched what can only be described as a manifesto in how to beat up Jessica Reed and possibly, though I cannot confirm, how to dispose of her body in some sort of remote location.
What was it you said, Ana? You’re going to make me, bleed?
Out of the fire and into the frying pan much?
Gee whiz, somebody has got issues. I think I liked you more when you were quoting Churchill and not threatening to ritualistically sacrifice me in the middle of the ring. I mean, I quite literally only just survived the last psychopath who decided they needed to make my life a misery.
But it wasn’t the thinly veiled threats, and I mean like wafer thin, that really caught my attention. It was the little… what was the word you said?
Diatribe.
Heh, sounds like diarrhoea…
Focus, Jess.
Ugh, fine. Spoil my fun. Where was I? Oh, yes. What really caught my attention, Ana, was the little diatribe you decided to share with the world about how I am a big fat… well, thin, fake and a disgrace to the Diamond’s division that you’ve been a member of for all of five minutes. You don’t pull any punches, do you kiddo?
I am sorry to say this, but that is the biggest pile of bullhickey I have ever heard, and that’s saying something.
I mean, I get it, I am blonde, I am certainly the more chest-blessed twin of the Reed’s and sure, sometimes I wear stuff that’s a little revealing but I aren’t a Barbie doll. Trust me, I checked where it matters.
Quite honestly, the fact that you can stand there with a straight face and genuinely believe that I am some manufactured talentless hack whose just on top because she pretty and easily manipulated by the corporate baddies says a lot more about you than it does me. Green really doesn't suit you, Ana, although if your worked on it long enough perhaps you could make a credible She Hulk…
Ho hum, I am getting off track again.
You wanted to know what I see in the mirror? What I’ve always seen, just plain little old me. I’ve never spent hours gazing at myself, frankly it’s a little creepy when you fancy yourself more than another person. I also grew out of criticising every little foible on my body when I got over puberty. No, all I see is the woman I am pretty comfortable being, and I don’t see anything wrong with that.
Even if you do.
Where you see insecurity, I see strength. I expose myself to the world every week… figuratively before you start getting too excited! Who else has the bravery to just be themselves, to not conform to some silly gimmick and dress like a total goofball just because they love it? You think I’m fake? I think I am one of the only girls here who is anything approaching real.
The only people hiding who they are those of you who get so darn agitated by me just being…well, Jess.
These costumes I wear? I make every single damn one of them and believe me, I barely see half of my wage just in the amount of royalties I have to pay every week to wear them on screen. Nobody forces me to put them on, I dress like Batgirl because a) She’s awesome and, despite how hard this is for you to understand, b) I legitimately enjoy doing so. I don’t do it to please everybody else, I do it to please myself.
And that is all I have ever done, I’ve turned up to live my dream and for some reason, that remains unfathomable to me, that really gets under the skin of people like you.
I have to be some corporate sex symbol who they trot out every week dressed in skimpy geek attire to make the boys buy our calendars, or I am just some stupid little kid who is too rough around the edges to be here, perhaps I am also just here because Bertie wants something to amuse himself with on a weekly basis.
Nobody seems capable of accepting that I am here, and I am a success, because I won’t abandon who I am to be on top. I am just a gooberdork looking to live her dream and to do what I love and that is to wrestle.
This isn’t some cutsey wootsey little side show where I can wiggle my booty and earn some cash, the fact is I could model on the cosplay circuit if that’s all I was bothered about. No, wrestling is my passion and so far, it seems to be something I am pretty darn good at, even if that makes the purists skin crawl. This is every inch my life as it is yours, I am just as credible a wrestler as any of you, the only difference is I haven’t abandoned myself to get ahead here.
I am darn proud to be the Diamond’s champion and you can bet your little tootsie that I am a good role model for all the little girls watching at home.
Week after week I come out here and tell people to do what they love, no matter what anybody else thinks, even when they poo poo on my parade like you. Despite everybody wanting to see me crash and burn for being who I am, I keep on fighting. What better inspiration could you ask for? Now they can see that they can chase their dream and stay true to themselves and still be a success.
I mean, what’s worse? That, or somebody threatening to make another girl bleed on national television?
Are we sure I am really the bad role model here? I mean, seriously?
Look, Ana, I aint going to do what you’ve done and basically fool everybody into thinking this is some foregone conclusion. The only people who buy into my invincibility are the guys who wants to sell tickets, I’ve said from day one that I respect everybody I wrestle, whether they care for me or not and I will never, ever, underestimate them.
That is what has allowed me to be so successful.
You’re a darn good wrestler, Ana. I’ve watch you since you debuted and bar the odd blip you’ve been impressive, I am not such a big egosaurus that I need to tell you that you total suck and I have nothing to fear, because I am just honest. You’re a bad ass in the ring and if I pretend you’re insignificant, you could leave me looking very silly indeed. I can’t think of many girls who've arrived recently that can boast the same qualities as you do.
I’ll do what I do every week, and take you damn seriously out there. Nobody is beneath me and there isn’t any name I see on the roster that makes me think “Ding dong, instawin jackpot baby”. If I win, great it’s partay time, if I lose…well, nobody’s perfect and the competition here is fierce, I totally respect that even if others don’t . I can’t declare, with absolute surety, that I will win every week and I never will.
All I know for sure is that win or lose, I’ll still be myself.
No matter what.
As the scene re-opens we can see Roberto Verona laid, quietly, alone on the basement floor, his breathe billowing up from his mouth again in the freezing cold. Clearly becoming agitated, he begins to squirm ins his frustration, letting out a small groan in pain as he looks around the room, doing his best to get his bearings.
Roberto Verona: She’s been gone too long…
Roberto tries to pull himself up, but his body screams in agony, desperately resisting his desire to lift himself off of the basement floor. Screwing up his eyes he uses all his strength to push himself up into a seated position, but as he does so and the blankets fall away from him we can see a larger bloody patch on an area in his lower back. Reaching behind himself he places a hand on the dark red mass before lifting his hand in front of himself, sighing when no fresh blood can be traced on his palm.
Roberto Verona: Well, at least that’s something…
Taking in a deep breath Verona’s attention is suddenly taken away from his pains when he hears crashing from the floor above, followed be a rather gruff male voice.
Roberto Verona: Shit…
As he listens to a few more colourful curses his anxiety is peaked further when he can see smoke beginning to creep under the door to the basement and down the stairs, the smell of burning soon stinging at his nostrils. Closing his eyes, Verona sighs as he realises a fire has drawn the men to the building before suddenly it dawns on him that he is trapped underneath a burning building, barely able to move.
Male Voice One: That bitch really wasn’t alone!
Male Voice Two: Hey, Billy, I’ve found another door over here, put that fucking fire out and help me open it.
Male Voice One: A little help wouldn’t go amiss you bastard, this shit isn’t going out without a fight!
Male Voice Two: Can’t you do anything without my fucking help?
Suddenly footsteps can be heard moving away from the basement door as the noise of shouting grows gradually duller. Roberto realises they’ll soon return and, despite his agonising pain, he begins to drag himself towards his own gear which is leaned up against a wall. Grabbing a shotgun he uses the firearm as a makeshift crutch to pull his weary legs out from under the blankets and as support to slowly but surely lift himself up from the floor which has been his home for some time. Leaning partly against the wall, and with the gun for support Verona leans down to lift up his back pack, using his free hand to search desperately for some ammunition as he can hear footsteps slowly make their way back towards the basement door.
Male Voice Two: There’s a padlock on the bloody thing? Can you see a key anywhere?
Male Voice One: Don’t be soft, I have the key we need right here…
Verona hears the sound a gun been cocked and seconds later the sound of gunfire rings through the basement. Verona cowers slightly, nearly losing his balance before lifting himself back up, fighting the urge to scream in pain as his breathing gets shallower and more rapid. The sound of footsteps begins to get louder and louder as Verona uses the wall to support his weight before lifting his arm up, preparing the shotgun as best he can.
Male Voice Two: Come out little rabbit, you’re outgunned.
Male Voice One: We know somebody is down here… you know, we’ve got your pretty little friend, if you’re good we’ll take you to her.
Male Voice Two: Make this easy on yourself and we won’t hurt you… much…
Roberto furrows his brows as he talks softly under his breath.
Roberto Verona: Who do these joker’s think is down here?
Verona waits as the creek of wooden stairs echoes through the otherwise silent basement.
Male Voice One: Come on, Hannah! Don’t make us get rough!
Verona smiles.
Roberto Verona: Clever girl…
Male Voice Two: We’re coming down… and we’re armed, let’s not have any trouble. If you want to see your sister again, you need to play nice.
Male Voice One: We promise, if you’re a good girl you’ll like us better than if you make us angry.
Suddenly their legs come into view as Verona inches gradually along the wall and into the shadows. Tentatively making their way to bottom of the stairs to two men look around, unable to see anything other than the pil of blankets and the blood stained floor beneath them.
Male Voice Two: Look’s like she’s hurt, the boss said he wanted her alive…
Male Voice One: This assignment is fucking bullshit, how do we even know she’s still here? The other little whore ran like the clappers, even an injured Reed could be gone by now.
The two look around, but Verona has managed to cloak himself in the darkness, his heart pounding as the men become increasingly frustrated. Kick over some boxes one of them turns to the other.
Male Voice One: Let’s get out of here, this is a bust.
Male Voice Two: Maybe you’re right, but if she’s bleeding, she must have left a trail.
The first man nods and the pair turn, preparing to leave, but as they do so, they stop suddenly as they see a figure emerging from the gloom, a barrel of a shotgun poking out of the darkness aimed firmly at the pair. Verona finally become visible from the dark, a grin on his face.
Roberto Verona: I have a better idea, why don’t you gentlemen stay.
Well howdy there pardner.