Post by Abigail on Nov 2, 2024 3:30:07 GMT
October 31st, 2024
4:04 a.m.
Central Time
Abigail Spencer was startled awake by what sounded like the mournful wailing of a spectral banshee. The sensation was so sudden that whilst her mind was jolted awake and her senses came alive, her body was still locked in sleep.
“Get out! Get out! Get out of my head! Please! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
The voice was as distant as it was desperate, and one that was oh so familiar to a helplessly immobile Abby. She screamed voicelessly: Sephie!
Her mind processed that her beloved was in trouble, but her body just wouldn’t cooperate with her, held hostage by the thought, almost terrorised by it. In mere seconds, her mind ran through a dense forest of horrific possibilities, pursued by the amber eyes of a lone wolf. A smoky shadow wolf that was as hungry as it was black.
Rowan…
The name sent a flash of infernal heat down her spine. It was as if she was suddenly laying on a bed of hellishly hot and sharp nails, and still she could not find her voice. She could not even turn her head in the direction of her partner’s tortured anguish. All she could do was lay here and look up at her bedroom ceiling, kept a few steps from Heaven by a unique and intimate Hell.
Please! Please God, let this be a nightmare. Let me wake up, let me see that Sephie is alright. Please!
Abigail pleaded, her vision blurred with compassionate tears as she silently recited The Lord’s Prayer.
Please God, give me strength!
Abigail stubbornly pushed through and was eventually able to shift the lead weight around her neck enough to turn her head towards the bedroom door.
Hang on, baby. Hang on, I’m comin’!
Abigail’s fingers twitched until she forced each hand into a fist. Hardened bony balls of defiance and rebellion that allowed her to punch through her paralysis. Her right hand swung free first and then her left. Her icy resolve numbed the hot pins and needles in her legs and she quickly swung them out of bed.
She bounced up to her feet, and ran through the open door onto the landing. She heard her girlfriend throwing up her last meal. She ran across to the bathroom in her black lacy negligée’. It was only by the grace of God that Abby stopped short of kicking the bathroom door open.
“Sephie?” Abby said, pulling the door open much harder than necessary. The name barely escaped her lips as a hoarse and strained whisper when she found a pale faced, frizzy haired Eternity staring at herself in the mirror, breathing laboured and heavy.
“I have to see her little cherub,” Eternity told Abby’s reflection. “I have to put this right.” Eternity picked up the silver engraved ring Warren had left her from the edge of the white porcelain wash basin. “This isn’t mine to treasure, it is his. I need to send it home, Maxine wishes it returned.” Eternity turned slowly to face Abby in the flesh. “Will you help me, Archangel?” Eternity’s question was soft and laced with quiet regret. “You were right, this is not my memory to cherish.”
“Of course I will,” Abby smiled. “We can return it to Warren no problem.”
Eternity shook her head. “Max was clear, this belongs with her son.”
Abby understood surprisingly little of how her great love saw the world, but she believed there were powerful spirits just beyond our tragically limited sense of perceived reality. Spirits that were guides, and she believed wholeheartedly that sometimes these spirits spoke to and through her beloved. Sephie was in communion with the restless dead, that was her special gift, bestowed upon her by God. She was their voice from beyond the grave. And whilst others may have been a little too quick to dismiss anything they didn’t immediately understand as unbridled insanity, Abby found great comfort in knowing there was much more to her existence than one finite life. There was a boundless eternal soul within each of us and Abby was blessed to love the sweetest of them all.
“Okay,” Abby flicked the bathroom light on, stepped out of the doorway and grabbed a face towel from the railing and she wiped residual vomit from the edge of Eternity’s mouth whilst putting an arm around her waist. “If that’s what Max wants, we will respect her wishes, I promise.” Abby smiled, warmly. “Will she wait until tomorrow?”
Eternity turns her head away from Abby a moment and nods slowly. “Thank you,” she whispered to the space next to them. Eternity then turned to Abby and smiled as she nodded gently.
“Good,” Abby kissed Eternity softly on the cheek. “Feel better?”
“I still have a migraine, but yes.”
“Let’s get back to bed, sleep should help.”
“Sleep,” Eternity smiled at Abby. “Like the dead.”
“Like the dead,” Abby softly echoed in agreement.
Eternity palmed the ring, deliberately not wearing it anymore. Eternity reached up and flicked the bathroom light off again as they passed through the doorway. Abby led her back across the landing towards the bedroom, slow and careful, as if she was escorting the most precious person in her life back to safety and comfort.
“We mustn’t be late,” Eternity said suddenly. “We must return the ring no later than 4:04 p.m. tomorrow afternoon, Max was most insistent.”
Why such an oddly specific time? Abby thought, but chose not to directly question right now. In the grand scheme of things it just wasn’t as important to her as caring for Eternity at the moment. Max had been dead over five years, it wasn’t like she had anywhere else to be, unless she haunted her colleagues much more regularly than Abby realised.
🦋💀🦋💀🦋💀🦋💀
October 31st, 2024
4:04 p.m.
Central Time
Even a full twelve hours of laying relatively undisturbed in the complete darkness had done little to dull Eternity’s migraine. Abby worried there was more going on, especially with her own vivid nightmare last night. Eternity stubbornly insisted on toughing it out, saying she’d lived with pain all her life and pills never helped. It took all of Abby’s remarkable will not to take the fact that no matter how deeply she loved Eternity, she’d never be able to take away absolutely all of her pain, like she wanted to, to heart.
If it were any real choice, Abby would have traded her soul to erase all the grief Eternity still carried in her heart. Not for the first time in her life, Abby wondered what Eternity was really like before death had ever darkened her door.
Would she still love that girl as undeniably as she loved this one?
Abby poured some of her mother’s homemade chicken soup into a bowl and poured out some fresh pomegranate juice. She carefully set the light meal on a serving tray and took it up to Eternity in the bedroom. Just the smell brought Abby back to when sickness would force her to stay home from school.
“Beloved?” Abby softly enquired of the darkness. “Ya awake? I brought ya some of Mama’s chicken soup. It’s always made me feel better.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’ve got to eat something.”
“Why?”
“Ta live.”
“What’s the point?”
“Ta love.”
Eternity giggled softly, as if mildly amused by Abby’s innocence. Abby entered slowly and sat at the edge of her bed. She took a moment to set the tray down on the bedside table before she leant across and kissed Eternity on the forehead gently.
“I’m sorry your sick on your favourite holiday, and we won’t be able ta go ‘Trick or Treating' like we planned. But maybe we can still have fun together at home. We can stay cuddled up in bed an’ read some horror classics or somethin’.”
“That sounds nice,” Eternity said. “Sorry, we can’t train as much as we usually do.”
“There ain’t as much pressure this week, we have partners ta lighten the load. I need you at full strength for the cage match,” Abby said. She guided a spoonful of soup to her girlfriend’s lips. “We’ve worked too darn hard ta be whipped on our first defence.”
“Can we trust Savage By Nature?” Eternity swallowed her first sustenance in several hours with Abby’s considerate care.
“As much as they don’t like us, I think they hate losing more.”
“Well, yeah, loss always sucks.” Eternity said. “I know that better than anyone.”
🦋💀🦋💀🦋💀🦋💀
November 1st, 2024
4:04 a.m.
Central Time.
Abigail’s phone pinged with an unexpected message as she was sat up in bed trying to massage Eternity’s temples. Eternity’s migraine seemed to be finally fading away if the light that had gradually returned to her face over the last twelve hours was any indication. Abby felt a tremendous sense of relief. She kissed Eternity gently before she reached over to check her phone.
Warren Kidd: Okay, I’ll meet you guys there, but I’m only doing this for Damien.
“Warren’s agreed after all,” Abby smiled. “Just like ya wanted.
“Not me,” Eternity smiled. “It’s what Max would’ve wanted, closure.”
🦋💀🦋💀🦋💀🦋💀
November 1st, 2024
4:04 p.m.
Central Time
Abigail and Eternity converged at the neutral meeting point with Warren Kidd, Shea O’Hara, Dean Harper and little Damien in front of the Faith 7 display at the Starship Gallery inside Space Center, Houston.
“Damned small world, like,” Shea remarked upon seeing them, hand in hand.
“Not loving how much this feels like an intervention,” Warren said.
“I’m sorry, but what’s going on exactly?” Dean asked. He instinctively held Damien’s hand tighter. “We just came because Damien insisted on seeing the awesome rockets and cool space suits.”
“Boys will be boys after all,” Abby smiled at Damien.
“I have something for you young man,” Eternity said, reaching into her trench coat pocket.
“I don’t think so,” Dean said firmly. “Warren, what the hell are you trying to pull?”
“Hey, it’s nothing to do with me, I swear.”
“Okay, then you won’t mind if we leave. Come on Damien, we’re leaving.”
“Dad’s special ring!” Damien exclaimed. He pulled Dean towards Eternity. Damien reached for the ring. Eternity gave it up without any resistance. Abby smiled at the sacrifice she had just witnessed.
“Warren? What the fuck? Why did they have our commitment ring?”
“I asked Eternity to look after it for a while whilst I decided what I wanted to do with it.”
“What? Why would you do that? Is nothing sacred to you?”
Warren had no immediate reply. Dean was thoroughly unsurprised.
“Of course not, why would it be? You never really cared about her or me.”
“Oh fuck off,” Warren said finally as Damien covered his ears whilst still clutching the ring in one hand. “Just because I let things go easier doesn’t mean I never cared.”
“What a joke! Letting go of things is the last thing you do,” Dean said. “You’re still holding on to a dead man’s opinion of you.”
“That dead man is my father, Dean!”
“Nah, a real father is there for his kids.”
“Oh, you mean like Angel was there for you.”
“Fuck you,” Dean said, walking away with Damien.
“Well that went about as well as I expected,” Shea sighed.
“I’m sorry,” Abby said. “We didn’t mean ta cause any trouble, we just wanted to drop off the ring to its rightful owner by 4:04 p.m today, like E insisted we should. We should never have taken…”
“Wait, 4:04 p.m.?” Warren asked.
“Yeah, I know it sounds weird, but it’s true.”
“Weird is an understatement,” Warren said softly. “That’s the exact time Max died giving birth to Damien, five years ago. Dean’s never let me forget it because I wasn’t there when he needed me most.”
🦋💀🦋💀🦋💀🦋💀
“Blessed is he that readeth, and they that hear the words of this prophecy, and keep those things which are written therein: for the time is at hand.
John to the seven churches which are in Asia: Grace be unto you, and peace, from him which is, and which was, and which is to come; and from the seven Spirits which are before his throne;
And from Jesus Christ, who is the faithful witness, and the first begotten of the dead, and the prince of the kings of the earth. Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood.” - Revelation I : 3-5.
🦋💀🦋💀🦋💀🦋💀
Dimly lit by exactly seven candles around them, Eternity in a black dress stood behind Abigail in a white dress. Abigail’s hands rest over Eternity’s, whose own are secured around Abigail’s waist as if grounding and anchoring her in place. They each wear a red spider lily in their hair and have matching purple eyeshadow, lips and nails, naturally entwined together, as if they knew it was always them against the world. They carry each other’s half of the IWF World Tag Team Championships on their shoulders, Abby’s right and Eternity’s left.
So it seems management wanna shake up Survival of the Fittest this year, just like our victory at Legacy a couple months ago shook up a generally apathetic tag division. Nobody expected us ta end the absolute dominance of Savage Kingdom, least of all their tragically fragile leader, Madjinn, who insisted not only upon himself, but also spent the entire Heir Ta The Throne tryna convince us all that he was so much better than the rest of us ‘cause he knew how ta handle losin’ and stay utterly committed ta the business.
It would seem that for as much as Sabin claims ta detest anythin’ an’ everythin’ Kane, he has no problem bein’ just as big a liar with severe commitment issues. Sayin’ that you’re married ta this job don’t really mean much if it turns out that your definition of marriage is about as sacred as Warren Kidd’s, let’s be honest.
Still, if Savage By Nature have one savin’ grace in all this, it’s that they’ve shown they can cut away the deadweight, adapt, thrive an’ survive. Eternity an’ I, we respect that kinda resilience an’ tenacity. That’s why we feel we’re not only on the right side of history but also on the right team in this test of co-existence that’s doublin’ as an echo of everythin’ Survival of the Fittest used ta be known for.
Savage By Nature may not be our biggest fans, but we know that they’re worth more in between a set of ropes than a team that consists of the most archaic form of masculinity ta ever exist, an’ someone who would rather set feminism back by at least seventy years by bein’ little more than his pretty little baby maker.
Just tell your big bigot bastard of a husband you’re checked outta your career Viv. Tell him you’d rather go home an’ raise a big family than stick around in a business where you’ve never quite lived up ta your name or your potential as a third generation wrestler. I know it burns ya somethin’ fierce that I was able ta redefine myself an’ return ta a family that has always loved an’ been there for me, in a way yours have never been an’ never will be.
I’m sorry about that, I am, well and truly.
But all any of us can really do in crappy circumstances is ta make the best of it until we can do better, an’ ya want all of us ta buy that after several failures you’ve found your soul mate an’ fulfilled your every lifelong dream by marryin’ him. If that’s true, surely ya have even less reason ta still be here beatin’ yourself up.
Go home an’ be a good lil 1950’s housewife, like we both know ya wanna be.
Honestly, you’ll probably find more success in an apron than you’ve ever found on one. We all have a true callin’ in life Viv, and yours has never been as a wrestler. But if it’s any consolation, ya ain’t the only one on your side of the fence in that position right now.
Your partner this week, the blue screen of death himself, RAM, ain’t ever fared much better. The wrestlin’ equivalent of bloatware, Bobby Marshall’s only real purpose in this match is ta hamper the overall performance of what would be a much more powerful machine without him taking up way more space than he should.
Error 404: Page Not Found.
Critical error: High self deletion risk!
Reformat drive partition. Complete reboot and reinstall recommended to complete system recovery. Restore factory default. Purge the outdated mind virus and backwards thinking.
Personal file: Flower.jpg not found.
Remove link?
Root directory corruption.
Of course, no discussion of Team Surplus-To-Requirements would be complete without considering Nick Knight. The poor man’s Spike Kane, and that really is about as charitable as I can be ta a man whose entire motivation for bein’ mixed up in all this so utterly offends me. By feelin’ it necessary ta insert himself inta our affairs, he’s essentially sayin’ my beloved an’ I ain’t good enough ta stop Savage By Nature from takin’ our belts.
He thinks we need the extra help ta take care of business.
Why is that Nick?
Is it ‘cause ya see us as mere and meek women who need a big burly man ta get the job done properly? If that’s it, I ain’t got nothin’ more ta say other than fuck you an’ the horse ya rode in on. We are legends in our own right Nick, revolutionaries in fact.
We don’t want your help an’ we don’t need your help.
I guess we can’t be too shocked at your passive sexism an’ rampant anti feminist agenda. After all, it takes a certain type ta not only marry an adult entertainer but also ta not be hopelessly devoted ta one partner. It ain’t a lifestyle choice I’ll ever understand, personally.
Still it’s your life, live and let die, we say.
“Blessed is he that readeth, and they that hear the words of this prophecy, and keep those things which are written therein: for the time is at hand.
John to the seven churches which are in Asia: Grace be unto you, and peace, from him which is, and which was, and which is to come; and from the seven Spirits which are before his throne;
And from Jesus Christ, who is the faithful witness, and the first begotten of the dead, and the prince of the kings of the earth. Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood.” - Revelation I : 3-5.
🦋💀🦋💀🦋💀🦋💀
Dimly lit by exactly seven candles around them, Eternity in a black dress stood behind Abigail in a white dress. Abigail’s hands rest over Eternity’s, whose own are secured around Abigail’s waist as if grounding and anchoring her in place. They each wear a red spider lily in their hair and have matching purple eyeshadow, lips and nails, naturally entwined together, as if they knew it was always them against the world. They carry each other’s half of the IWF World Tag Team Championships on their shoulders, Abby’s right and Eternity’s left.
So it seems management wanna shake up Survival of the Fittest this year, just like our victory at Legacy a couple months ago shook up a generally apathetic tag division. Nobody expected us ta end the absolute dominance of Savage Kingdom, least of all their tragically fragile leader, Madjinn, who insisted not only upon himself, but also spent the entire Heir Ta The Throne tryna convince us all that he was so much better than the rest of us ‘cause he knew how ta handle losin’ and stay utterly committed ta the business.
It would seem that for as much as Sabin claims ta detest anythin’ an’ everythin’ Kane, he has no problem bein’ just as big a liar with severe commitment issues. Sayin’ that you’re married ta this job don’t really mean much if it turns out that your definition of marriage is about as sacred as Warren Kidd’s, let’s be honest.
Still, if Savage By Nature have one savin’ grace in all this, it’s that they’ve shown they can cut away the deadweight, adapt, thrive an’ survive. Eternity an’ I, we respect that kinda resilience an’ tenacity. That’s why we feel we’re not only on the right side of history but also on the right team in this test of co-existence that’s doublin’ as an echo of everythin’ Survival of the Fittest used ta be known for.
Savage By Nature may not be our biggest fans, but we know that they’re worth more in between a set of ropes than a team that consists of the most archaic form of masculinity ta ever exist, an’ someone who would rather set feminism back by at least seventy years by bein’ little more than his pretty little baby maker.
Just tell your big bigot bastard of a husband you’re checked outta your career Viv. Tell him you’d rather go home an’ raise a big family than stick around in a business where you’ve never quite lived up ta your name or your potential as a third generation wrestler. I know it burns ya somethin’ fierce that I was able ta redefine myself an’ return ta a family that has always loved an’ been there for me, in a way yours have never been an’ never will be.
I’m sorry about that, I am, well and truly.
But all any of us can really do in crappy circumstances is ta make the best of it until we can do better, an’ ya want all of us ta buy that after several failures you’ve found your soul mate an’ fulfilled your every lifelong dream by marryin’ him. If that’s true, surely ya have even less reason ta still be here beatin’ yourself up.
Go home an’ be a good lil 1950’s housewife, like we both know ya wanna be.
Honestly, you’ll probably find more success in an apron than you’ve ever found on one. We all have a true callin’ in life Viv, and yours has never been as a wrestler. But if it’s any consolation, ya ain’t the only one on your side of the fence in that position right now.
Your partner this week, the blue screen of death himself, RAM, ain’t ever fared much better. The wrestlin’ equivalent of bloatware, Bobby Marshall’s only real purpose in this match is ta hamper the overall performance of what would be a much more powerful machine without him taking up way more space than he should.
Error 404: Page Not Found.
Critical error: High self deletion risk!
Reformat drive partition. Complete reboot and reinstall recommended to complete system recovery. Restore factory default. Purge the outdated mind virus and backwards thinking.
Personal file: Flower.jpg not found.
Remove link?
Root directory corruption.
Of course, no discussion of Team Surplus-To-Requirements would be complete without considering Nick Knight. The poor man’s Spike Kane, and that really is about as charitable as I can be ta a man whose entire motivation for bein’ mixed up in all this so utterly offends me. By feelin’ it necessary ta insert himself inta our affairs, he’s essentially sayin’ my beloved an’ I ain’t good enough ta stop Savage By Nature from takin’ our belts.
He thinks we need the extra help ta take care of business.
Why is that Nick?
Is it ‘cause ya see us as mere and meek women who need a big burly man ta get the job done properly? If that’s it, I ain’t got nothin’ more ta say other than fuck you an’ the horse ya rode in on. We are legends in our own right Nick, revolutionaries in fact.
We don’t want your help an’ we don’t need your help.
I guess we can’t be too shocked at your passive sexism an’ rampant anti feminist agenda. After all, it takes a certain type ta not only marry an adult entertainer but also ta not be hopelessly devoted ta one partner. It ain’t a lifestyle choice I’ll ever understand, personally.
Still it’s your life, live and let die, we say.
Well howdy there pardner.