You *Wish* this was like Hostel...

The video feed took a moment to focus through the snow, but my voice was all that was needed for the beginning…



“Nobody. Somebody. Why do you measure someone's self worth based on the shit spouted by other people? Are you that shallow? That foolish? That damned stupid? That egotistical? Sure. I’m, as you say, a “nobody” in Project: Honor. Why? I. Just. Came. Here. You fucking cunt. I haven’t had the ability to MAKE a name for myself, yet. But, cleaving your flesh from your bones, “Havoc” and making you choke on your own balls, well, that’s a start.” I was naked. Stark. Fucking. Naked. KNEE DEEP in Snow! The camera, finally focusing on my face and not my tits, was shaking just slightly. From the sheer cold. It didn’t phase me. I was immune to the cold. I had a natural heat. A fire, born deep inside me, that kept me warm. A fire that was burning through anyone who came near me.



“My taking your precious “Prime” title and holding it above my head, that is most definitely a start. Stepping into that ring, with you and that motherfucker, Julius, you’ll see why I’m called dangerous. Why I’m considered vicious and deadly, you’ll see just exactly why I am called the Drakon. Bring whatever you can muster, I’ll take you down. I’ll take you both down.” I walked through the deep snows, the cameraman following me, shivering softly. I smiled. A large fire, to the west, snapped and crackled as we walked closer. My coven had met me, their shrouds a deep, blood red. The wolves howled in the distance, as if announcing who I was. The Alpha. My own pack, my Wolves, were waiting for me at the fire.



“Under no circumstance, will I back down, Havoc. Broken bones. Torn flesh. POURING blood…” I snarled, as my covenmates began to chant softly, anointing me with feathers in my hair, painting my naked body in the symbols of who we were. I took the dagger from one of the women, Rori, who wore a different colored shroud. The hue of her own coven. We came together for this, this night was the night. This was the time our magics were strongest.



“Ready… Set… It’s time to battle!” I barked, as the wolves, larger than Zion’s dobermans, came to stand at my side. Flanking me. Protecting me. “When will you motherfuckers learn? I DO NOT STOP!” The wolves howled as I pointed the dagger into the skies, as lightning flashed above the treetops and thunder rolled over the world. You really couldn’t pay for better effects. Nature was awe-inspiring. Its brutality. Its beauty. It was no wonder nature was considered the feminine. Only women could be as BEAUTIFUL and as BRUTAL as nature. And being absolutely honest, I brought that level of beauty and brutality to every single match I was ever in. Hell, I brought that everywhere I went. Into everything I ever did.



“Do you think I give a rats fuck about breaking my own body to beat you? I don’t.” I hissed, placing the dagger in the flames. My eyes, reflecting the flicker of the fire, seemed to change color. “Julius…. Havoc, you two aren’t even a concern to me.” My voice was low, almost a growl. “But, I will walk into that ring and I will show you exactly who I am and what I am capable of…” The wolves howled again, my robe slid over my naked body, hugging my hips. I did not pull it closed. I did not want to cover my tattoos and scars fully. I needed them to see. I NEEDED the world to see the roadmap that told the story of who I used to be and who I had become. Especially the fresh scars of bullet wounds to the left side of my chest.



“Everywhere I’ve gone, I have left bodies stacked in my wake. Victories behind my name, well, they’re plentiful. Both of your careers, sure, they’re all bright and shiny, probably littered with some amazing wins. Yet… That all means diddly come Wired Consequences II.”



“Really, do you think I give a rats fuck about shedding my own blood all over that pretty belt? I don't.” Rori came to stand at my side, her burgundy robes almost accenting my own blood red. I looked at her and smiled. She had come to us all as a friend, but had grown to so much more recently. Not only did she bring her coven to mine, as an ally, but she joined the Wolves and in doing so became my and Robi’s valet. Honestly, who wouldn’t want to look at her? Bitch was downright sexy!



“I’m not just some cunt you can pat on the fucking head and push into the kitchen to make you a sammich. I am a godsdamned beast. I took on greats before coming here. And I rolled over them like the fucking storm I am. I have left corpses in my wake, what have you done, Havoc? Given makeup tips? Advice on hair care products? I’ve set the world on fire and all you’ve shown to be is a blowhard. Flapping that cumtrap all over the place, touting you’re the best that’s ever been. Well, it’s time to put up or shut up, motherfucker.” I snarled, pulling my robes open to expose my snow-white flesh again. Each scar blending into each tattoo. “These are more than just memories, you fucks, these are the map to how I became the Drakon!”



“Did you ever see your downfalls? Julius, falling to a newcomer. A woman who, admittedly, has no prior “REAL” showings in this promotion, beating the pants off of you, and pulling you into submission. Bending you, Julius, until your only options are, pass out or tap out. Either way, motherfucker, I Will beat you.” I grinned, wickedly, flashing those platinum fangs to the world. The cameraman, clearly distracted by my naked body, probably my pierced nipples frankly, had begun to drift away. Rori Gibbs smacked him back to attention as she smiled, sweetly.



“Each person who has stepped to me in whatever arena has fallen, boys. I have overcome every obstacle put in front of me. Fucksake, I have come back from the DEAD!” I cackled, Rori painted an angelic symbol over the two bullet wounds on my chest. Allowing the pain to drip slowly down my nipples. It tickled. It was cold. I loved it.



“And don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Julius, I haven’t. I just haven’t cared to speak about you, motherfucker. I’m not pulling a Sabertooth and saying “you’re below me” because, I know you’re not. You’re a fighter. Kudos. But, I have more determination than you. I have more to achieve. You’ve been around the block, in Project: Honor, for a while now. I’m the new kid. I’m the one everyone is watching.” I smirked, as two of my Wolves, specifically Diesel and Cela, stepped forward and tied my robes closed, lifting me up. Diesel carried me to the circle in the middle of the field. Setting me down gently, he grunted an approval as he stepped away. Lately, he and I had been at odds with one another, but soon we’d rectify that. Hell or Highwater, we were Pack.



“This is the truth. This is the future. I am the reason, I am the storm. Wired Consequences II will be the stage I leap into the stratosphere of Project: Honor. A new Queen is on the rise.” I raised my arms from my sides, as if I was the deity my coven worshipped. I was not under any misconception that I was a Goddess; I knew better. But, I also knew my heritage named me the one who’d defend the world. The Drakon.



“Have you updated your wills? Contracts? Have you informed your loved ones?” I smiled, almost viciously.



“I took Fight! NYC by storm! I claimed their Bareknuckle belt. I’ve toppled the hierarchy and I am GodsDamned proud of it. I’m bringing that same ferocity here. Project: Honor… These are my new hunting grounds, and you’re all on the menu. Now, I know my title in Fight means absolutely fuck-all here. This is why I’m going to take Havoc’s. I will be the Prime champion after Wired Consequences II.” I winked, the camera moving slowly to track what was going on. The coven members, still chanting as the wolves sang their song on the wind. Lightning struck the ground behind the treeline as once more the glorious thunder clamoured over the fauna.



“Kings rise and fall. It’s part of nature. It’s the evolution of life. The time for Kings is over, gents. The time is now that of Queens. “ I cackled loudly, the circle in which I stood was stained with blood. Whose? Human? Animal? Real? Fake? Cela came back into view, the bowl in her hands was filled with a viscous red liquid. More blood. I untied my robes and dropped them. Cela began to paint the rest of my once-more nude body in the symbols of our coven and our Pack.



“If it looks dangerous, it probably is. If I look dangerous, I most definitely am. “ I sneered, closing my eyes to allow her the chance to place the bloody handprint over my face. I was the warrior. I was the battleborn Queen of my pack. I was Hell-fucking-incarnate. She kissed my cheek as she stepped away, allowing Rori the chance to come stand in front of me.



“Lady of the Ravens; How do you enter?” I watched her as she dropped her hood, I placed my dagger’s tip against her throat. “With perfect love and perfect Trust, my Drakon…” I slid the blade slowly down her throat and kissed her cheek as she stepped into my circle. We stood side by side. My body, nude, covered in bloody writings, scars and tattoos, was silhouetted by the bonfire behind us. Rori, stoic and smiling, took the dagger from my hand as I watched the cameraman walk to us.



“LOOK AT ME!” I yelled, finally, my fists clenched in anger! I had EARNED this! I fought for everything and yielded NOTHING!



“I’m a Godsdamned FIGHTER! I will bend your bones until they snap, just to hear that three count with MY name being announced the winner. I know what’ll happen. True Society will stomp your ass, Julius, and throw you out of the fucking ring in a heap. Then we will turn on one another. Why? We may be in the same stable. We may claim the same height of our careers; but, I want it more. Odinn brought me here, he brought me back to change the face of Project: Honor.”



“I survived death.” I smirked. I had gone down as infamous for that feat. Death on a Cruise ship. That was a small piece of the legacy I was leaving for my daughter.



“What have you survived?”



“Three of us walk into that ring, but I’ll be the one walking out; with that belt over my shoulder.”

I smiled, licking the blood off my lips as the cameraman closed the distance between us.



“I will only warn you two ONE TIME!.... When they ring that Godsdamned bell…. You had better….”



I leaned closer to the camera, snarling deeply.



“...... RUN!......”



I grabbed the camera and yanked it downwards, allowing it to crash against the snow and the frozen ground where it all…





Went….











The following day….



Louisiana. The Bayou. My greatest joy; my home. I miss it. Over 200 people go missing in the state of Louisiana per year; don’t believe me? Look it up.



Sure, some people fall victim to hunting faux pas, hiking incidents or simply run away but some… Some succumb to the powerful jaws of the gators. Most assume that’s what's happened to their loved ones. Devoured by gators. Their remains are left in a pile of gator shit. A sad commentary on their lives, really. How awful were they, as human beings, that their life could be summed up as gator shit?



Roscoe wishes it would be that quick…



But, he was to suffer a fate far worse than being eaten by a large reptile.



Now, we aren’t actually IN Louisiana. We’re heading North… To where it’s cold. To where it’s snow-deep. To where NO ONE will notice blood. To where NO ONE will hear the screams…



Minnesota was actually ranked 34th in the entire US for their missing population. A mere 170, in comparison to other states. For example, Oklahoma has 252 missing people per. The deficit was rather staggering. But the level of safety that Minnesota held dear, their lower missing people population, wouldn’t be altered. Not by us. Considering, no one knew what was about to happen… Save 6 people. And honestly… Who would miss Roscoe, other than his sister?



NO.

ONE.



Deep in the lowlands of Minnesota, Robi’s compound was well under construction. My journey had taken me across the globe; and it was going to end where the snow fell. A story that had many desolate and demented chapters was about to come to a close. This wasn’t murder. This wasn’t death, this was ending a circle of hate that had all but consumed me.



This was vengeance.



I had arrived in secret; so I had thought. Bundled in the fur-lined coat that I had from my time in Russia and carrying only the supplies I needed to make Roscoe regret absolutely everything. However, when I had left the landing strip, I was met by Robi, herself and her newest Wolf, Ryder.



Motherfucker!!!



“Really? Trying to sneak your way into my compound?” Robi glared at me, but I smiled a bit and shrugged. “Can you blame me?” Her stern glare was enough to send even the most hardened of criminals running; but me? I’d seen it so many times over the years, I had honestly become immune to it. Especially since I had “died”. Death changes you. Not always for the better…



Ryder grabbed my bag of goodies and looked at Robi quizzically. It was disturbingly heavy. “I guess you weren’t plannin’ on stayin’...” His eyes shifted to me, again, I shrugged. I really wasn’t planning on going home. I wasn’t planning on surviving this.



Yeah, I had my daughter to think of. But, I had that squared away. Robi was to have custody of Priscilla when I died.



My businesses? They would change hands to Cela and Diesel.



My home and kitties? Mama and Henry would inherit them.



But… What about my career? As a Wrestler? I had just made a fine showing in Project: Honor last week, and had been booked for the next big Pay-Per-View. What about that? Hell, what about Fight? I had defended my title against Austin and was slated to defend it once more against Apathy…



Well, I wasn’t sure there. If I died, someone else would become the Bareknuckle Champion and Project: Honor would continue on without me. In time, Robi would understand… But would my friends in Fight?...



“Come on, Dru, let’s go.” Robi grabbed my arm and escorted me to her convoy.



During the days that followed, I became very well versed in the lakelands of Minnesota. I spent time out in nature between sessions with Roscoe. We kept him hydrated with saline solutions and blood transfusions. We weren’t going to make this quick or easy. Hell, Robi kept him dosed with tetrodotoxin the whole time, disabling his ability to move, but allowing every single nerve ending to FEEL.



We wanted him to suffer.



The way I had suffered. The way Robi and the Wolves had suffered. The way my daughter, Priscilla had suffered.



He may not have laid a hand on Priscilla, but he threw her into the same spiral I had been.



He may not have pulled the trigger, but because of him, I almost left this world.



He may not have been the one to cause all of the hurt I had endured, but he was certainly a massive part of it.



So, Robi and I were going to make him feel it.



Skin him?



Of course I did…



Dissect his fingers?



Yes, I most certainly did.



Stew his toes?



I left that for the Queen of the Wolves.



Fry his testicles?



Damned right I did.



Oh, we were going to make it hurt. We were going to make him pray to whatever Gods he prayed to.





I was crazy. I was out of my mind; covered in his blood and relishing the screams he made when I touched the raw, exposed sinew of his thighs. Robi, watching from behind me, contemplating what she needed to do, looked at Ryder briefly. I had straddled Roscoe, leaning into him, whispering something in his ear as he wept. He looked at Robi, his blood-covered eyes pleading with her to make me stop.



I took my gun, my beloved Chiappa Rhino 60DS, aptly named “Sinner”, and pressed it to his temple. I cackled! Pulling the hammer back, slowly, I scooched a little closer to him, in his lap, letting the sharpness of my jeans RIP and drag against his fleshy, skinless thighs. “Are you ready to meet your Gods?” I snarled, finger on the trigger.



Now, before I could pull that trigger, Robi nodded to Ryder, who grabbed my hand and lifted it upwards as he yanked me off Roscoe quickly. The gun fired, leaving a large hole in Robi’s brand new ceiling. Oops? I, however, was screaming enough profanities to make a Sailor blush and run to Confessional. Ryder pinned my arms to my sides as she walked over to me. She was angry, but I was livid!!!



Robi pulled back and I watched in absolute horror as her right foot stepped behind her and she leaned all of her weight into the swing!



WHAM!



I… Was… Out… Cold…



BITCH!



I had no idea, but I had slipped into a dream world, all my own, thanks to Robi. And in that dreamy haze, I saw it all….



The Prime Championship. I hadn’t really thought of going for a title in Project: Honor, but Robi and the powers that be… They thought differently. And this had put me through the ringer. Fighting two, rather sturdy men, at the same time, was not really a happy place for me to be. Especially not when one of those men was fucking HAVOC! We were stablemates. We didn’t know one another for shit. But, we had put that aside for a moment, and handled Julius Fairweather with ease.



Flinging him down to the depths was easy. Oddly, Havoc and I worked fairly well together. Him setting me up for my Drakon’s Call, and my setting him up for Devil’s Repent. We tagged out to one another, not letting Julius get a breath.



We couldn’t.



True Society was going to keep the Prime title. Now… Havoc thought it would be him to walk out of this ring with it, when in reality… It would be ME.



I had shed blood in this ring. I had shed sweat and tears. I had the want and the vigor; this title was going to be mine.



Julius fell, the ref calling the 3 count down, but then… We turned on one another.



Havoc launched at me with a ClimaX, but I managed to drop to the mat and roll out of the way. Barely. While he was dazed, I set myself up for Mooncraft Prayer… When I leapt off the rope… He rolled to the side. I slammed hard into the mat. I was winded a bit, but not enough for him to get the pin. I climbed to my feet, while he rushed me, staggering me a little with a few blows to the chest.



He pulled to the side, trying to line me up for one of his damned finishers, but I was little. I was quick. I was smart. While he had his attention elsewhere, I flew into a Biker’s Promise. Blows to his chest. Repeatedly. Coming harder. And harder. And harder as I turned him around.



I could HEAR the crowd!



I could FEEL their heat; their raw energy.



It fueled me.



While Havoc was stunned, breathing heavier, sweating more; I climbed the ropes. Now, I wasn’t one to cheat; often… But, I also wasn’t one to stop when I saw an opening. I kicked off the top rope and SLAMMED into Havoc’s body, landing a VooDoo Queen!



I grunted, hard, as I grabbed ahold of his body, pulling him into the ending sleeper and awaited the ref. I was tired. I was rather bruised, still from my dance with Robi, then Austin, a couple weeks earlier but, I wasn’t done. I had more. I had much, much more fire. More hatred. More fucking damnation that fed my drive. I held Havoc tightly; cutting the air from his chest as the ref came to.



ONE….



TWO….



THREEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!



I won the MATCH! As the ref grabbed my hand and held it high above my head, the Prime belt was placed across my shoulder! I was exhausted! I was spent! BUT… The ROAR from the crowd as they chanted and screamed my name… That was all I needed to get my third wind and show out!



Meanwhile…



Back in REALITY….



Robi looked back to Roscoe, yet spoke to Ryder, “Have Diesel come get her. She can’t be the one that ends him.” She glanced back to Ryder, “And for fuck’s sake.. Keep her sedated until Diesel gets here.”



She then walked over to where Roscoe was tied up and knelt down to get closer to him, “You see, she can’t be the one to end you. It would destroy her. And I’m ok with taking her rage and anger. I can handle it. I can shoulder it. Unlike any one of the Wolves. And I will end you, Roscoe. What happened in Russia will look like a walk in Disneyland compared to what I’m going to do to you. I’m going to be your worst fucking nightmare. I’m your Harbinger. You thought you were going to beg Dru to end it? Oh no, Darling… You’ll be begging ME to end your pathetic existence by the time I’m done with you.”



She pulled out a metal snipping tool and let it dance along his flesh as she stood up. When she reached his feet, she smiled. Oh, it wasn’t a smile of happiness. No, no. It was a smile of demented pleasure.



“No! Robi! Please! I was… I love Dru!” Roscoe tried to reason with the tall Viking woman before him.



“You love Dru?”, she looked back up to him. “Is that so? Is that why you betrayed her? Why you gave her to Gotti? Is that why you went on the run after what you did?” She laughed darkly at him. “Oh no, Roscoe. You don’t love Dru. I don’t even think you love yourself. Hel, I wonder if you even love your sister.”



She laid the snipping tool against his big toe and glanced up to him with a sadistic smile, “No. I don’t think you do. In fact, I know you don’t. I mean, if you did, you wouldn’t’ve sold out to Gotti. You would’ve told Dru, of ALL people, what was going to happen and take your fucking beating like a man.”



She shook her head slightly, “No, instead you sold her out. You gave her to Gotti. You forced us to watch her get shot. You forced her to take a bullet for me. But what happened in the end, Roscoe? Who got the killshot on Gotti?”



Before she continued, she quickly snipped his big toe off and caught it in a bowl. Roscoe screamed out in abject horror as he watched his appendage fall into a bowl. Then she moved over to the other toes. Snipping them off. One… By… One.



Only to staunch the bleeding with gauze and an ace bandage. She then stood up and walked over to a table that had been set up in the middle of the room. She set about deboning and denailing the toes. Once that was done, she fileted the small bits of flesh from the toes and carried the bowl over to the grill that she had brought inside.



Dumping the meat into the skillet, she began to cook them up. “You’re a crazy bitch!” Roscoe screamed out at her as she began to cook the meat. Robi glanced over to him and smiled, “Yes. Yes, I am. And what do you think a crazy bitch like me is going to do to you? Because of the actions you took. Because of the decisions you made?”



Roscoe passed out cold as Robi continued to cook the meat. Once it was done, she nodded over to Ryder, who had rejoined her, and had him wake Roscoe up. She scraped the meat out of the skillet and back into the bowl, “Open wide.” She taunted him as Roscoe came around.



He began to struggle against his bindings as he knew what was coming next, “Ohhh, no… Don’t struggle. Your bindings will only get tighter and tighter the more you struggle.” She knelt down beside him once again and used a fork to stab into the meat.



“Forced Self Cannibalism,” she said in a sing-songy demented type of voice. She reached out, forced his mouth open and she shoved the first “bite” into his mouth. “You’d do well to chew. Else you’ll choke on your own flesh.”



She placed her hand over his mouth so that he would be forced to swallow the meat instead of spitting it out. “And to think… This is just the beginning of your torture.” Oh, she knew that Dru had tortured him a great deal before she showed up. But now? Now, Mama is home. And he was about to face his biggest fear.