Post by April Madrox on Oct 21, 2024 0:16:23 GMT
Scene: Mexico City, Mexico — The Night of the Revenge Match
Backstage, deep within the labyrinth of the arena’s halls, April and Brooklyn Madrox sit in a narrow room, the silence between them tense, almost suffocating. A single, dim fluorescent light flickers overhead, casting wavering shadows across the concrete walls. The sisters have been here countless times before, preparing for matches, but tonight feels different. Tonight, it’s personal.
April sits on a metal folding chair, her hands resting on her knees, head down. She’s already in her ring gear, her long, dark hair tied back tightly. There’s a nervous energy in the way her fingers twitch, but her face betrays little of the turmoil inside. Across from her, Brooklyn leans against a battered locker, arms crossed, her expression a mask of disdain. Unlike April, Brooklyn doesn’t fidget. She’s cold and composed, a storm simmering beneath the surface.
Brooklyn, her voice low, laced with venom "Tonight ends it. Dean’s been playing this game for too long, thinking he’s untouchable, thinking he can betray us and get away with it. That ends in that ring, April. We finish him."
April nods, but it’s mechanical, as if she’s going through the motions. Her mind is racing, though she can’t bring herself to say it out loud. There’s something else gnawing at her, something she can’t quite shake. She feels the weight of the match—the importance of revenge, of putting Dean in his place—but beneath that, there’s doubt. Maybe not about Dean deserving what’s coming, but about whether things are as black-and-white as Brooklyn sees them. Still, she says nothing.
"Yeah," she responds quietly, eyes still down, "we finish him."
Brooklyn’s eyes narrow, sensing the lack of conviction in her sister’s voice. She pushes off the locker and takes a step forward, her gaze piercing through the dim light.
"Don’t give me that half-assed response, April. This is it. No more slip-ups, no more letting him get away. We’ve tried to beat him one-on-one, and we’ve failed. That stops tonight. We’re both out there, and I swear to God, if he even tries to pull the same crap, I’ll end him myself."
April flinches at Brooklyn’s intensity but quickly composes herself. She looks up, meeting Brooklyn’s fiery gaze. There’s a moment where April wants to speak up, to voice what’s been on her mind, but the words don’t come. She’s already on thin ice with Brooklyn after weeks of trying to reconnect, to repair the fractures that Dean’s betrayal has caused between them. Now isn’t the time to show doubt, not with Brooklyn this focused on revenge.
"I know," she says more firmly. "Tonight, we take him down."
Brooklyn nods, satisfied. "Damn right. We’re not walking out of Mexico City with anything less than his head on a spike."
The stark imagery hangs in the air between them, but April still can’t shake the unease growing inside her. The problem isn’t whether Dean deserves punishment; he does. He betrayed them, turned his back on everything The Murder stood for. But for weeks now, every attempt to take him down has failed. And as much as Brooklyn blames Dean’s cunning or underhanded tactics, there’s a nagging thought in April’s mind—what if we’re missing something?
April glances toward the door, the muffled sounds of the arena filtering through the heavy steel. Soon, they’ll be walking out to face the crowd, to confront Dean in the ring. Brooklyn will be by her side, making sure this time it’s different, that this time, Dean pays the price for his betrayal. But April can’t help but wonder if revenge is really the answer. Maybe—just maybe—there’s more to this than Brooklyn sees. Maybe that’s why Dean has been one step ahead of them.
Brooklyn interrupts her sister's thoughts. "What is it, April?"
April looks up, startled. Brooklyn’s tone is sharp, suspicious. She knows her sister well enough to recognize when something’s off. And right now, something is definitely off.
April hesitates for only a moment before responding with a, "Nothing. Just…thinking."
It's clear that Brooklyn is not buying it. "Thinking about what? Because if you’re having second thoughts, now’s the time to say it. But I swear, if you hesitate out there, if you give him an inch, he’ll take everything from us again. Is that what you want?"
"No, of course not" she responds quickly. "I’m not having second thoughts."
Brooklyn stares at her, eyes narrowing as if trying to read her sister’s thoughts. There’s a flicker of uncertainty, but Brooklyn doesn’t push further. She doesn’t have time for doubt—not tonight. Not when revenge is so close.
"Good," she says through gritted teeth. "Because when we get out there, I need you focused. No distractions. We’ve tried everything else, and now we’re going to do it my way. We’ll break him down piece by piece until there’s nothing left."
April nods again, but the unease in her chest tightens. She can feel Brooklyn’s frustration, her need for vindication, and her own guilt begins to rise. Brooklyn has carried The Murder on her back since Dean’s betrayal, pushing everyone forward, demanding retribution. April’s been along for the ride, playing her part, but now, with the match looming, she isn’t sure she can pretend anymore.
She isn’t sure if revenge is what they need—or what she needs.
"Do you ever think…" she says softly, "maybe there’s more to this?"
"More to what?" her sister snaps back.
April quickly begins backtracking "I mean, maybe Dean’s got another angle. Maybe he’s playing us in ways we haven’t seen yet."
"Of course he’s playing us, April. He’s Dean Harper" she snarls. "That’s what he does. But it doesn’t matter what angle he’s working. He can pull whatever tricks he wants, because tonight? None of it’s going to save him. We’ve seen it all. We’re ready."
"Yeah, but—"
Brooklyn cuts her off, "No. No 'buts,' no doubts. He’s not some mastermind pulling strings behind the scenes. He’s a coward who stabbed us in the back, and tonight, he’s going to pay for it. That’s all there is to it."
April bites her lip, swallowing the rest of her concerns. Brooklyn’s resolve is unshakable, and April knows that pushing any further will only make things worse. So she forces a nod, burying the unease deep down. For now, at least.
April reluctantly nods her head. "You’re right. It’s time he paid for what he did."
Brooklyn smirks, her eyes lighting up with malice. "Damn right. We’re not just going to beat him, April. We’re going to humiliate him. We’re going to remind him why he never should have crossed us in the first place."
There’s a knock at the door, and the sisters turn their heads. A stagehand peeks in, letting them know it’s almost time. The anticipation in the air thickens, and April feels the knot in her stomach tighten. Brooklyn shoots the stagehand a dismissive look before turning back to her sister, her expression hard.
Brooklyn lowers her voice, deadly low, "This is it. No more excuses. No more failures. We’re taking Dean Harper down tonight, and we’re not leaving any room for him to crawl back. Got it?"
April begins forcing herself to match her sister’s intensity "Got it."
Brooklyn gives a sharp nod before turning and heading toward the door, her movements deliberate and confident. April follows, her heart pounding in her chest. As they walk through the maze of hallways toward the arena, the sounds of the crowd grow louder, a constant reminder of what’s waiting for them on the other side. The roar of the fans, the bright lights, and, most importantly, Dean Harper.
As they reach the entrance, Brooklyn looks over at April one last time, her expression firm, her eyes blazing with the need for revenge.
"Let’s end this" Brooklyn snarls through gritted teeth.
April takes a deep breath, her mind still swirling with doubts she can’t voice. But as the arena lights flood her vision and the roar of the crowd fills her ears, she pushes it all aside. This is about survival now. About loyalty. About proving to Brooklyn—and to herself—that she’s not going to let Dean Harper tear them apart any longer.
They step through the curtain together, side by side, and the crowd explodes. Tonight is about revenge. Whether April truly believes that or not doesn’t matter anymore. Not when Brooklyn’s eyes are locked on Dean Harper, and the promise of destruction hangs heavy in the air.
There’s no turning back now.
Well howdy there pardner.