Blood & Water

[Cyrus Daniels]

Surrounded by water, a shimmering wave catches the serene blue light inside the glass arch of the Osaka Aquarium Kaiyukan. This deceptively strong barrier provided a stunningly beautiful view of marine life. Caught underwater and surrounded by breathtaking beauty and serenity, small brightly colored tropical fish dart in and out of coral formations, their vibrant hues contrasting against the sandy seabed and the dark, textured surfaces of artificial reefs.

Even here, under remarkable constrained conditions, the absolute fragility of life itself found a balance, a way to not only survive but thrive. A natural balance struck in an artificial ocean, both intimidating and mesmerizing. It was easier to exist inside a beautifully gilded cage without bars, easier to forget that this was still a prison, precision engineered and carefully crafted to tease and tantalise and thrill under strictly controlled conditions. It was easier to observe life behind safely reinforced glass than it was to participate in it.

Sharks patrolled their territories, their powerful movements and keen eyes a testament to their role as the apex predators of the ocean. Occasionally, one or two swam right up to the glass, gorgeous until they bared their teeth and revealed their true and savage nature. Unsurprisingly, Vivienne Rodgers and Cyrus Daniels resonated and fit perfectly within the equilibrium of this vicious ecosystem.

Vivienne leant her body against her fiancé’s, “So, tag team rounds in this year’s Heir and Heiress tournaments, huh? Well, it’s certainly a new coat of paint on an old idea. It’s so nice that management decided to give the women’s division equal attention this year. Should we be thanking the newly unmasked GM Jennie for that? I doubt it. But I’ve been wrong before.” She smiles as she crosses her arms. “I noticed a few couples being made into tag teams for this little event. I can see the appeal there. Get the fans who are deeply invested in the shipping wars to really turn over their hard-earned money. Get every cent on the couple-themed merch sales. Worked for FSK, why not anyone else?”

“But unlike some we could mention, I’m not here to be arm candy or a plus one. I’m not just a partner, I’m an equal. I’m a former World Champion, former Openweight Champion. I headlined the first Women’s Main Event of Immortals as a World Champion. My fiancé’s no slouch either, you’ve seen how he’s been on a tear lately, putting in a dominant performance in both this year’s Roulette and Joker in the Pack, hell he is even a former Extreme Champion in his own right.”

“A belt I won by beating the absolute piss out of the bloke who just captured his second World Championship, Warren Kane. I’ll grant ya that I’m not nearly as decorated in IWF gold as some of the other men and women in this tournament, but that don’t make me any less of a threat. I beat people up for fun, I enjoy it. I’ve beaten the shit out of men who considered themselves Gods like Spike Kane and Sabin Spencer simply because I bloody well could.” Cyrus grinned, slowly baring his teeth.

“Masao Akiyama,” Cyrus almost spits out the name. “We really don’t know anythin’ about each other, do we mate? Call it fate, call it destiny or just call it bloody bad luck, but we just so happen ta be in your home country this week, meaning you and your little anime sparkle Princess are gonna be the favourites against a couple of foreign invaders. How absolutely bloody tragic that must be for both of ya, ‘cause well what do foreign invaders do best? They conquer, they kill and they steal. Such is their nature and such is life.”

“Now Rini, well let’s see if I can say this in a way you’ll understand.” Vivienne clears her throat, stands up straighter, moving her hand delicately resting under her chin, her image reflecting her twisted smile. The air crackles as shadows dance around her as she begins her monologue, “Ah, Rini Ishikawa, the so-called beacon of hope and light. How amusing it is to think that such a tiny, naive girl believes she can stand against me, Vivienne Rodgers, the master of the dark arts. You, with your glittering wand and your saccharine ideals of justice and love, are nothing but a child playing dress-up in a world you barely understand.”

Vivienne alone commands attention for a moment, “Do you truly think your sparkly magic of friendship can withstand the abyss I command? Your transformations, your little speeches about friendship and courage—they are laughable in the face of true power. Power that I have cultivated for years, through sacrifices, through knowledge, through sheer, unyielding will.

“You may have your companions, your loyal friends who cheer you on, but they are weak links in your fragile chain. They will falter, they will fail you, and when they do, I will be there to pick up the pieces. And most importantly, they aren’t here to protect you this time. I will show you the true meaning of despair, the kind that shatters your very soul and leaves you begging for the darkness to take you.” Vivienne laughs in a way that might be an imitation of an anime villain, “For every light you shine, I will cast a shadow twice as dark. Every victory you achieve, I will mar with the taste of ashes. Your precious world of color and cheer will drown in the inky blackness of my dominion. And when you finally kneel before me, broken and defeated, you will understand that it was always inevitable. Light cannot exist without darkness, and your light, dear Rini, is but a fleeting flicker in the boundless night I command. So, prepare yourself, little magical girl. Gather your strength, and make your stand. It will make your fall all the more satisfying. For in the end, you will learn that against the infinite darkness that I am, you are nothing but a momentary spark, destined to be extinguished."

Cyrus takes control from Vivienne once more and maintains it for the rest of their promo together.

“Akiyama. I’ll be the first ta admit that ya and I didn’t have the most stellar Immortals, did we, mate? Ya failed ta end the impressive reign of one of the most dominant Champions in this company, and when I say dominant, I fucking mean true dominance and not the clownish fabrication of it that Sabin peddles. I know I’ll eventually meet Nick Knight in this tournament and that’s a fight I know will be a bloody good time ‘cause Knight has never been one ta coast by, or let someone else handle his business. Knight will take his arse beatin’ like a real man when the time comes, just like I know you will too, Masao, ‘cause ya Japs are all about that honour an’ respect shit, right?”

“Just ‘cause an attitude is admirable don’t make it any less stupid. Ya may well be able ta dust off bein’ the footnote ta Serenity’s big win, historically goin’ down as the human pin cushion who was also in the ring when Knight’s Invictus reign finally ended, but all that really means is that you’re already used ta bein’ utterly embarrassed in matches that matter. Ya may be able ta live ta fight another day, but I can’t.”

“Unfortunately for you, the niche of bein’ a big foreign powerhouse worth his salt around here has already been filled, not only in this company but in this damned tournament. First by me and then again by Tytus Rost, so you Akiyama are just as surplus ta requirements as your partner, Ishikawa. Everyone knows the real Bird Of Prey ta worry about in this tournament is Pax Stormcrow’s little side piece, Charlie. Not her bubbly sidekick coat-tail rider, Rini.”

“If I could speak jibberish as fluently as ya Japs, I’d ask Rini what she really feels about bein’ put in a makeshift tag team against IWF’s truest power couple, but since I can’t I guess I’ll just have ta get ya ta ask her for me over your next bowl of sushi, an’ while you’re at it ask her what it feels like bein’ lumbered with a partner she can’t trust ta get the job done when the odds are stacked against him?” Cyrus laughed. “I had ta be cuffed ta a fuckin’ steel ring post by a Clown God’s favourite cum dumpster ta be kept from the Joker In The Pack contract, just like Jayson Matthews had ta literally catch me sleepin’ ta get one over on me when I was the Extreme Champ, so tell me Masao, just what ridiculous lengths are ya willin’ ta go ta neutralise me in this tournament?”

“For your sake ya better have somethin’ special up your sleeve if ya hope ta survive this match, ‘cause if ya don’t, history has shown time and time again that nobody is ever prepared ta stand on even ground with a bloke like me. They always need some kinda unfair advantage ta deny me what otherwise would be a foregone conclusion.”

“My blushin’ bride-to-be an’ I are sharks lookin’ ta beat a bloody path up the food chain in this company and in this tournament, and I can think of no better place ta start than feastin’ on the most raw of raw fish around here. It’s just a shame you people seem to be into that shit, ain’t ya?”

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Professionally, Cyrus Daniels and Vivienne Rodgers were a new team, thrown together by happenstance in the new structure of the one tournament Vivienne wanted to win more than any other. For years, she had wanted to be acknowledged as a top wrestler, and this year’s Heiress tournament was another opportunity to realise that dream and remind people that she was a former Women’s World Champion and Hall of Famer for a goddamn reason.

She pushed past her own anxiety and doubt. Vivienne knew she needed to be better, failure here would mean making not only her own campaign more difficult, but also her beloved fiancé’s, and letting him down terrified her. She had no doubt Cyrus loved her, that was obvious by every moment they were together. But she did not want to give him any reason to reconsider their relationship. She was so close to being married, and other fiancés had gotten cold feet without much warning, because she was bad luck, wasn’t she?

“Cyrus? Do you think you could help train me, please?”

“Of course, Kitten,” he smiled. “I’ve watched ya work for some time. You have a solid power base, it just needs shoring up. I can help ya there, no problem.”

Vivienne wished she had as much self-confidence as Cyrus seemed to have in her, “Where do we start?”

“I’ve watched the tapes, those Japs hit hard with their signature strong style, which means we just have to hit harder,” Cyrus walked her over to a punching bag in the gym, “So let’s see how hard you hit so we can work out how much harder you need to hit to really knock them on their arses.”

Vivienne nodded, took aim and hit the bag as hard as she could. She watched it sway a little, “How was that?”

“We’ve got a lot of work to do,” Cyrus shook his head slightly. “I know you can do better than that love, why are you holding back? Rini won’t, she’ll be all smug about beating you at Night of the Immortals in a tag team match already. Are you going to take it? Are you going to let her consider you an easy target or are you going to take control of the situation and show her you can get knocked down, but not out?”

Vivienne nodded, looked at the punching bag. Tried to remember the anger she had when she’d faced Rowan that last time when she finally got a win. Tried to remember the rage that had been facing Charity and Ciara. Remembered the absolute bullshit that had been that feud with Jennie and swung back hitting the bag as hard as she fucking could.

“There she is!” Cyrus laughed. “There’s Daddy’s Princess. Again!”

Vivienne blushed, but smiled as she centered on the rage and hit the punching bag again as hard as she could.

“Harder!” Cyrus growled, loud, clear and authoritative.

Vivienne tried to keep from falling into a puddle at the sound of that tone and focused. Pictured all the people who had overlooked her, used her and abused her as she hit the bag hard enough that it unhooked and tumbled to the floor.

“Too hard?”

“No such thing, Kitten,” Cyrus said. He kissed her on the cheek, rewarded her for a job well done. “You want to win, don’t ya? You want to show everyone why you belong in the Hall Of Fame, and why you were the first female Main Event in Immortals history with Eternity, don’t ya? This is how you fucking do it! Show them why ya belong in that ring! Show them why ya belong to me!”

Vivienne beamed, “Okay. I can do that. I’ll fucking make them drown in their own blood.”

“Oh, I know you will, Kitten,” Cyrus stood before her, and took both of her hands in his. “That’s why we’re going to do this again, without the gloves.” He slowly took off her right fingerless glove first. “Hitting harder means nothing if you can’t take as good as you get. So we’re going to build up your pain tolerance.” Her left glove was taken off next.

Cyrus then collected the bag and hooked it up again. “Rini has probably studied you, that means she likely knows about your ankles, but we’re not going to give her a chance to exploit the weakness of your kicks. It won’t matter if you knock her so loopy that she cannot coordinate her own leg offence.”

Cyrus put the gloves aside, and held the bag steady so it would be harder to move this time. Vivienne would be striking the leather bare-knuckled this time, and because it would be harder to rock with Cyrus behind it, it would be like hitting a solid wall, almost.

“Ready?” Cyrus asked. “Let her rip! Hard and fast as ya can!”

Vivienne nodded, pictured her father. Pictured his fucking face on the bag and hit him hard. She wanted to kill him all over again, pictured beating him to a bloody pulp. Her strikes got harder, faster, pistons against leather. The familiar sting of pain broke through her skin and cracked through her knuckles, but she kept her eyes locked on the only man who had ever believed in and encouraged her, the man she would soon marry. She held Cyrus’ gaze, even as the bruises started to spread across her fingers, like the cancer that had taken her father’s life before she could. She winced through the pain, her eyes stung with freshly boiled tears. Her knuckles joined her in her sorrow, weeping blood.

“Let it out, Kitten,” Cyrus said. “You’ll feel better. Trust me.”

Vivienne’s heart caught fire and her fists were lightning strikes, her vision blurred. She pushed herself harder than she ever had, punctuated her final few blows with a primal scream of pure anguish and unfiltered aggression. Her father was wrong. Her grandfather was wrong. She was worthy of love. She was worthy of success. She absolutely fucking did not deserve what they had done to her.

Her scream opened the floodgates and as she burst into tears, her chest heaved, heavy with pain, trauma and regret. She went until she was utterly spent, taking Cyrus’ lesson to heart: You could never hit too hard.

“Yeah! Fuckin’ bonza, ain’t it? Not holding back?”

Vivienne stood, shakily, tears streamed down her face as she looked down at her hands trying to ground herself in the present, “Yeah, I - it feels good.” The adrenaline rush powered her through the rush of pain. She felt numb and disconnected, not even feeling anything physical for a moment.

“You okay, Kitten?” Cyrus’ voice softened. He stepped out from behind the bag, took her bloody and bruised hands in hers and kissed each softly until they steadied, held in his firm grip. “Did I push you too far, too quickly?”

Vivienne swallowed awkwardly, “No.” She shook her head, tried to sound more firm, and be stronger than she felt. “No, that’s not it, it’s just - hold me, please? I just need to feel safe right now.”

Cyrus immediately pulled her into his tight embrace, no further questions or explanations were necessary. She had asked to be held so he held her, it was that simple. She buried her face in his chest and wept openly, shaking against his strong arms. For the moment, this was enough. This is everything she needed. Cyrus instinctively started to rub her back gently, as he often did when she felt vulnerable in their aftercare routine.

Vivienne Rodgers wasn’t ready to lose yet another fiancé’s love to the dark truth of her past. Her anxiety about Cyrus finding her just as disgusting and undesirable as Xavier Cross and Ulf Hednir did overwhelmed her. Men didn’t have to say it, they never did, but Vivienne knew the truth. She was only loved and wanted when she was seen as innocent and pure. As soon as that sweet illusion was shattered and the cold reality of being a child sexual abuse survivor was known, any love anybody had ever claimed to have for her quickly died. She wasn’t ready to have that conversation with Cyrus.

She wasn’t prepared to lose the father of her children and the love of her life, so she did the only thing she could, held onto him a little tighter and sank a little deeper into his loving embrace, enjoying it whilst it lasted.