Destiny Denied

[Abigail]

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“And I saw the dead, small and great, standing before God, and books were opened. And another book was opened, which is the Book of Life. And the dead were judged according to their works, by the things which were written in the books.” - Revelation XX:12

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Amidst the soft flickering light of seven candles on the cold hard ground beneath her, Abigail knelt. The only other light in the room emanated from a pattern of artificial light behind her which dimly framed the outline of a giant bronze Iron Maiden with the face of Mother Mary. Mary’s head was downcast, as if she were protecting Abby.

Abby sat under the looming shadow of the larger than life Iron Maiden in a scarlet sports bra and gym shorts combo. A half drunk water bottle rested upright in her lap. Her pale skin glistened with sweat. A red spider lily nestled on the left side of her head, offsetting the streak of forest green on the right. Abby took a few deep and slow breaths before she finally spoke.

Ever look back at who ya thought ya were once upon a time an’ almost die of darn cringe?

If ya ain’t, I envy ya, ‘cause in preppin’ myself for this match, I looked back on more than a few tapes of where my headspace was at goin’ into my first ever Iron Maiden six years ago, and ho boy, it wasn’t a pretty reminder by any stretch. I mean, sure, at my most charitable I could say I was still a fresh faced rookie with less than a dozen matches under my belt, but still.

Quite obviously, I just hadn’t clicked what worked for me back then.

I went from a Deep South caricature ta Spike Kane’s baby sister, all ‘cause I thought who I really was would never be good enough ta ever match the likes of homegrown professional wrestlin’ juggernauts like Jess Reed an’ Eternity. Women I looked up ta then, women I still admire today. Women who perfected the art of projecting confidence and characterisation.

Original pioneers in this company who knew exactly who they were and wanted ta be. In short, they were strong personalities an’ representative of the kinda effortless performance I thought I needed ta be ta succeed in this business. Only problem was that it didn’t take my contemporaries any time at all ta not only smell premium BS but also call me out on it. Everyone knew I wasn’t bein’ as authentic or true ta myself as I shoulda been from the start an’ so I was the Diamond in the Rough who got her ass the most humbled an’ humiliated in those first few years of my in-ring career.

Includin’ in the build ta my very first Iron Maiden Match at Dark Reign in 2018.

Now, y’all may be wonderin’ why the brief early career retrospective, Abby?

Nobody in this year’s Maiden cares about ya or where ya came from, and that may well be true. Maybe you’ve all got your heads so far up your own keisters that ya really don’t care about my story.

That’s fine.

None of y’all need ta care about where I was yesterday ta acknowledge where I am today.

A whole hella lotta things have changed for me professionally as well as personally over the last six years, that much is categorically undeniable. Still, ya know what they say? The more things change, the more they stay the same.

I didn’t make it inta my first Maiden the first opportunity I got back then either.

I’ve always had ta fight just that little bit harder than the rest of y’all ta be recognised around here. I’ve always had ta stand my ground that little bit firmer. In 2018, I wasn’t given this opportunity ‘cause I deserved it or ‘cause I earned it. Nah, I got fed scraps ‘cause Spike Kane wanted ta play the numbers game.

I was the back up and the contingency in case his daughter Dawn failed ta represent him on the grandest stage exactly how he wanted ta be. I was the insurance policy, the expendable one. I wish I could honestly sit here an’ say it troubled me at the time, but it really didn’t. How little I thought of myself an’ my real family didn’t really start ta stick in my craw until years later, when I was already a couple years down the road an’ well inta my first reign as IWF Women’s World Champion.

Professionally’, I had absolutely nothin’ ta be ashamed of about that reign.

Personally however, I just couldn’t bring myself ta enjoy a single moment of the 217 days I spent as the best female professional wrestler, not only in the Imperial Wrestlin’ Federation, but also the whole gosh darn free world.

The reason the fruits of my labour tasted so damned bitter?

‘Cause I still wasn’t allowed ta live my own fuckin’ life.

Sure I won the title at home from Fiona McFly, but even she felt that I was such an undeservin’ imposter that she took what shoulda been my finest hour an’ twisted it inta a nice little homecomin’ for herself. So when I shoulda relished finally standin’ in the brightest spotlight of all, I instead relegated myself ta the shadow of Fiona McFly just as readily as I relegated myself ta the shadow of Freya Kane.

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The older and wiser Abigail Spencer had gotten, the fewer hard and fast rules she abided by, most especially in the last few years. Much of her childhood, adolescence and early adulthood spent in the most Southern of South Texas communities had been governed by the most unique and complex love and fear that only came from the devout and unconditional worship of a divine Father. In isolation, that alone should have been more than enough to ensure that her morality remained unshakable, but as the youngest of five, Abby was also in the unique position of being the heiress to the most refined set of Spencer family rules and expectations.

Whilst it was true that these familial fundamentals were less stringent than any Christian ones Ma and Pa instituted, Abby still resented that by virtue of seniority alone, each of her four brothers had gotten away with so much more than she had been allowed to at the same point in her life. Not only that, but being the only girl in the family had meant that a fresh set of expectations and principles were instituted, mostly by her mother that would never apply to her brothers or even her father.

Abby was certain that though she knew her parents loved her, they wouldn’t have taken her coming out as lesbian finally if her brother Jeb hadn’t agreed to come out to them as bisexual alongside her. It was far easier to reconcile being a tremendous disappointment to God when you knew you weren’t the only one in the family.

Abby endured the furiously tightened jaws and awkward squinted eyes of her parents in the months that followed far better than Jeb, especially now she had accepted enough of herself to publicly embrace having a girlfriend. Jeb was still publicly closeted, due largely to the fact that his most significant and embarrassing crush was not only on a married man, but also a man way above his station, not only in their respective careers but in life. According to Jeb, the folly of crushing on Warren Harper was most definitely against every rule and law he had ever followed.

Still, as Abby sat cross-legged in the middle of a double bed in a nice Floridian hotel room half a week before the second ever Iron Maiden opportunity of her career, Abby reflected on the importance and necessity of breaking her therapist’s rules. Dr Blackbourne had made it a point of regular insistence that Abby avoid dwelling on past mistakes and failures as much as possible, but going into High Stakes this year, that felt impossible.

Abby needed to relive a match from six years ago, needed to study it thoroughly and learn as much as she could about the mistakes she’d made as a bright-eyed rookie that night so she did not repeat them this year and absolutely did not embarrass herself going in as the most experienced match participant this year.

Abby scrubbed through most of Dark Reign 2018 on the eleven inch IPad Pro nestled in her lap, stopped just after her Maiden had been allowed to open and absorbed the muted video-on-demand which played against the soothing ambience of a crackling fire in her AirPods.

~Rayne hits Dawn in the chest before grappling her and hitting her with a Powerslam. Helena hits Abigail with a Short-arm knee strike to the gut, grinning wildly. Before Dawn can recover Rayne hits Dawn with a hip toss. Abigail hits Rayne with an Elbow Smash.

With some extreme excitement the crowd starts counting as the lights go over the last two pods as the girls continue fighting in the ring…~

Ding.

Dawn Halliwell: Hey. Hope you’re okay. Been a while, I know, sorry. Need to talk to you soon, but it can wait. Good luck in your big match this weekend. From the Forever Iron Maiden, You got this!

Fate certainly had a sense of humour, Abby thought. Dawn couldn’t have picked a more opportune moment to get back in touch. Of course, they were far from friends back then but they had softened considerably, but not completely towards each other over the last half decade, mostly due to Abby’s innate instinct and tremendous capacity to turn the other cheek, as any good Christian should and would.

Abby quickly swapped apps and thumbed out a reply, automatically the match video shrunk into the top right and played Picture in Picture.

Abigail: Hey! Thanks. Just prepping by rewatching the last one I was in as we speak.

Dawn Halliwell: Oh you mean the one I won?

Abigail: Yeah, any tips or pointers?

Dawn Halliwell: Figure out the weakest competitor and stick to her as close as you can so you’re the first to seize upon any opportunity to pin or tap her the fuck out.

Abigail began typing out that the weakest was probably her, recognised it as her anxiety tormenting her half way through typing and instantly backspaced for a much more succinct and pleasant response. She couldn’t be that vulnerable, she knew Dawn wouldn’t really care. Dawn’s deepest emotional reserve was almost exclusively for her half-brother Warren, and Abby couldn’t even claim to be Dawn’s aunt anymore. Not that she wanted to, the idea had always felt wrong, but Abby had been sworn to secrecy, sworn to protect a dead mentor’s legacy for as best as she could for five years.

Abigail: Thank you.

Dawn Halliwell: Welcome. You're who I have my money on to win. Kick ass and prove them wrong!

Abby smiled at the response. She left it seen but unanswered, it would be fuel she could easily look back on over the next few days of intense training. Abby returned her attention back to the match fully, expanding it to full screen again.

~The pink electrocardiogram flatlines completely. The silhouetted bird now appears on the Imperitron briefly before a purple flash of lightning is cast from the heavens, striking the steel stage. The lights go out completely and for a moment all is still before a lone spotlight illuminates a single white dove perched on the rafters above. The bird takes flight out of the spotlight and into the darkness and all is still once more…~

Eternity flopped on her stomach down on the bed next to Abby out of nowhere. Abby pulled out her right AirPod and registered the sound of the en-suite toilet flush being drained in the background. She smiled at her girlfriend, scooted over a little as Eternity propped herself up, hands under her chin next to her to watch the rest of Abby’s old match together.

“What are we watching, Angel?” Eternity asked.

“Destiny denied,” Abby shook her head, and sighed.

“Nope,” Eternity shook her head, and smiled. “Not what I see at all, I see Destiny delayed, maybe diverted. Until now.”

“God, I wish I had your confidence,” Abby said. “You’ve won it every time you’ve been in one, I haven’t even won it once. Feel like I’m gonna let ya down an’ get my ass embarrassed by younger, hungrier opposition ‘cause I’m the weak link here.”

“Hush babe, please don’t talk like that,” Eternity said. “You’re the strongest person I know. You have to be, for dating me, for putting up with all the BS we’ve ever gotten for being together. You still chose me.”

“Darn right I did, and I’d do it all over again for the rest of my days. Ya were never just another possibility, ya were always my dead cert.” Abby leant forward, Eternity met her halfway to exchange a brief soft kiss on the lips. “Never forget that. Would you help me train? Studying tapes is only gonna get me so far. I want to train like ya train for big matches. I can handle it, I promise.”

“Oh, babe. I’ve never doubted you can, you’ve just never asked before.”

“I know, I didn’t want ya thinkin’ I was usin’ ya ta get ahead or nothin’.”

“Never crossed my mind. Of course I’ll help! So happy you want to be part of my every life.”

“Every life,” Abby echoed softly. “‘Til I’m dead an’ gone.”

===

That was almost four years ago now. I am no longer that person, anymore than I am still the same person that entered her first Maiden six years ago. Back then I didn’t know exactly what I did to deserve such a milestone moment in my fledglin’ career an’ neither did anyone else. Not the case now. Today, I know exactly how I got here.

Today I know exactly what I deserve, an’ that is so much more than I think I do.

Just ‘cause it’s more than a little clichè don’t make it any less true. This business, puttin’ your body on the line as often as we all do, it changes ya. An’ I am here today as a product of everythin’ that has changed me over the last half dozen years.

Don’t none of y’all get it twisted, not for a single second. I still have faith in somethin’ bigger than myself, I just have even more faith in myself. More faith in myself than I’ve ever had before, in fact. Y’know I really can’t be as hot as I wanna be about how April never had any faith in me when I was sat under her learnin’ tree, nor did Ciara or Emma or any of my coaches. Even ta my biggest supporter at the time, the legendary Spike Kane I was little more than a means ta an end.

An empty shell for him ta pour all his personal regrets inta.

Well, I’ve been taught lately that in this match an Iron Maiden is only ever as strong as the competitor inside her. Unfortunately, I won’t have quite the advantage goin’ in that Serenity or Charlotte do, but that don’t mean my time locked up inside the Maiden should be wasted. It only becomes a casket for my hopes an’ dreams if I let it.

I won’t.

I’m enterin’ fourth this year, same as I did in 2018. Not the best, but also certainly not the worst. The familiarity of my entry position is more a comfort than a hindrance honestly. I know exactly what I’m gettin’ inta, havin’ been here before, somethin’ nobody else in this match has the privilege of bein’ blessed with. Like any match, it’s a darn sight easier ta prepare for somethin’ familiar than it is somethin’ brand new.

My first go round, I made the mistake of treatin’ this opportunity like any other match. I stepped up an’ flapped my gums about each of my opponents an’ called it a day, an’ if that’s your mentality goin’ inta one of the most brutal attractions we have here in IWF then God bless ya I guess. For me, I know better, I know it’s gonna take more than gettin’ a few good zingers in on each of ya.

Cuttin’ y’all down ain’t nearly as important as buildin’ myself up.

I don’t need ta tell y’all you’re gonna lose as much as I need ta show myself that I can win. Fact is, I have a real personal issue with less than half of y’all in this match so I’m not about ta treat promisin’ up and comers like Nattie, Charlie an’ Serenity with the same contempt I have for the likes of April, Mai and The Murder as a collective.

In 2018, I entered this match standin’ against the likes of The Pack an’ The Best Friends Club, in 2024 I am up against The Murder who are like the red haired bastard stepchild of both those groups.

Some things never change, which is why it’s so important that y’all realise just how much I have. This ain’t just about main eventin’ the biggest Night of the Immortals ever for me. This is about ensurin’ my professional renaissance lives up ta my personal one.

I’ve come too far ta deny myself anythin’ anymore, personally or professionally.

My name is Abigail an’ I deserve so much more than the fuckin’ world.

It’s taken me far longer ta realise that than it really should have.

But don’t worry y’all, I promise that your realisation will be a darn sight quicker.

Like the Good Lord Jesus, my resurrection is comin’.

I shall no longer bear the cross, but y’all shall bear witness.

Rejoice!

The Archangel, she is arisen!

Abby brought her hands together in prayer, closed her eyes and bowed her head.

Amen.