Post by Rowan MacDonnough on May 9, 2017 6:32:20 GMT
"Hello, Imperial Wrestling Federation. Did you miss me?"
Camera shows a close up shot of Rowan MacDonnough lit through night vision. She is whispering as she speaks, with a few silhouetted figures behind her. Judging by their position, she appears to be sitting down, though it is impossible to say where she is for certain.
"I'm disappointed, Conway," she hisses. "I'd have thought you'd have learned enough about me by now to have called off those poor wretches who tried to take my pain away after what was supposed to be a tag team match. I did you the favor of making my escape before they got me to the hospital itself. As enjoyable as it might have been to amplify the suffering of dozens of the injured and infirm, I made a promise with you not to cause... too much of a public scene. I took only the two EMTs foolish enough to sit in the back of the ambulance with me as tribute. Worry not, Conway... they have not been harmed. Not, at least, in any ways they haven't asked for. Indeed, they are free to go at any time they desire."
Her eyes flash slightly at the gesture as she absently strokes the arm of one of the silhouetted figures behind her, her gloved hand slick with something dark and wet. "Ironic, isn't it, that after everyone expected me to give into my hatred and turn traitor that Charity Crowne was the one who proved coward and fled? Your Diamond in the Rough, Conway. I'm sure you're so pleased with your little Avatar of Pride."
She closes her eyes. "You should already know why I'm here. By abandoning me in the ring she denied me the chance to crush Eternity under my boot, denied my the chance to prove that nothing is truly eternal. She ran from pain and chose the route of a coward... and she needs to face retribution for her so-grievous sins."
She leans forward. "A match. One match is all I demand. At Night of the Immortals, you are going to give me a match with Charity Crowne so that I can make her suffer on the greatest stage in Professional Wrestling. You will book us in a match where she cannot run, where she cannot hide, and where she will endure agony that defies description in bloody recompense for her crimes against the both of us."
She tilts her head. "And Charity Crowne? You will accept."
The camera pans back, showing details of an elegant room around Rowan, with several more silhouettes around her. "You will accept because I demand it. You will accept despite your cowardice. Despite your pride. Despite your arrogance. Despite the stench of fear that clings to you like oil. You will accept because, if you do this, your pain at my hands will be at an end. You will accept because, if you do this, I won't end your career like I did Eileen Callaghan or, it seems, Patricia Powers."
The camera pans over to the bed that Rowan is sitting beside, where Charity Crowne sleeps fitfully as though plagued by nightmares. "But most importantly," Rowan croons as she strokes the side of Charity's face, "you will accept because I know where you sleep."
Dean can be heard chuckling cruelly behind the camera, but Rowan silences him with a glare before once again stroking the arm of another silhouetted figure near her. "Don't fret, Conway - no breaking and entering here. Charity's security detail, like so many others, proved as fragile of Will as Charity is of flesh. I asked for entry... and they obeyed."
Her attention snaps back to the camera. "Consider this my last warning, Charity - If you refuse this match, there is nowhere you will ever be safe for the rest of your life. I will make your suffering, which is presently naught but a passing whimsy, into my life's purpose. My magnum opus. Your pain will burn a hole through this world, and prove a reminder for every miserable wretch on this planet that the Abyss. Is. Not. Denied."
She leans close to the camera once more, her eyes filling the screen. "One match is all I demand. One match with no escape, settling every word, every strike, every betrayal. One match with no escape to be a salvation at the end of a crucible of suffering. Or you can run once more... and never stop running until your withered husk falls lifeless to the ground, desiccated by the exhaustion of a life ever pursued by the Wolf of the Abyss.
Choose."
Camera shows a close up shot of Rowan MacDonnough lit through night vision. She is whispering as she speaks, with a few silhouetted figures behind her. Judging by their position, she appears to be sitting down, though it is impossible to say where she is for certain.
"I'm disappointed, Conway," she hisses. "I'd have thought you'd have learned enough about me by now to have called off those poor wretches who tried to take my pain away after what was supposed to be a tag team match. I did you the favor of making my escape before they got me to the hospital itself. As enjoyable as it might have been to amplify the suffering of dozens of the injured and infirm, I made a promise with you not to cause... too much of a public scene. I took only the two EMTs foolish enough to sit in the back of the ambulance with me as tribute. Worry not, Conway... they have not been harmed. Not, at least, in any ways they haven't asked for. Indeed, they are free to go at any time they desire."
Her eyes flash slightly at the gesture as she absently strokes the arm of one of the silhouetted figures behind her, her gloved hand slick with something dark and wet. "Ironic, isn't it, that after everyone expected me to give into my hatred and turn traitor that Charity Crowne was the one who proved coward and fled? Your Diamond in the Rough, Conway. I'm sure you're so pleased with your little Avatar of Pride."
She closes her eyes. "You should already know why I'm here. By abandoning me in the ring she denied me the chance to crush Eternity under my boot, denied my the chance to prove that nothing is truly eternal. She ran from pain and chose the route of a coward... and she needs to face retribution for her so-grievous sins."
She leans forward. "A match. One match is all I demand. At Night of the Immortals, you are going to give me a match with Charity Crowne so that I can make her suffer on the greatest stage in Professional Wrestling. You will book us in a match where she cannot run, where she cannot hide, and where she will endure agony that defies description in bloody recompense for her crimes against the both of us."
She tilts her head. "And Charity Crowne? You will accept."
The camera pans back, showing details of an elegant room around Rowan, with several more silhouettes around her. "You will accept because I demand it. You will accept despite your cowardice. Despite your pride. Despite your arrogance. Despite the stench of fear that clings to you like oil. You will accept because, if you do this, your pain at my hands will be at an end. You will accept because, if you do this, I won't end your career like I did Eileen Callaghan or, it seems, Patricia Powers."
The camera pans over to the bed that Rowan is sitting beside, where Charity Crowne sleeps fitfully as though plagued by nightmares. "But most importantly," Rowan croons as she strokes the side of Charity's face, "you will accept because I know where you sleep."
Dean can be heard chuckling cruelly behind the camera, but Rowan silences him with a glare before once again stroking the arm of another silhouetted figure near her. "Don't fret, Conway - no breaking and entering here. Charity's security detail, like so many others, proved as fragile of Will as Charity is of flesh. I asked for entry... and they obeyed."
Her attention snaps back to the camera. "Consider this my last warning, Charity - If you refuse this match, there is nowhere you will ever be safe for the rest of your life. I will make your suffering, which is presently naught but a passing whimsy, into my life's purpose. My magnum opus. Your pain will burn a hole through this world, and prove a reminder for every miserable wretch on this planet that the Abyss. Is. Not. Denied."
She leans close to the camera once more, her eyes filling the screen. "One match is all I demand. One match with no escape, settling every word, every strike, every betrayal. One match with no escape to be a salvation at the end of a crucible of suffering. Or you can run once more... and never stop running until your withered husk falls lifeless to the ground, desiccated by the exhaustion of a life ever pursued by the Wolf of the Abyss.
Choose."