Post by bennett on Apr 14, 2022 11:43:17 GMT -5
Take The Bait
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MARCH 31st, 2022
WORCESTER, MA
DCU CENTER
Backstage at the DCU Center, Billy Bennett sits cross-legged on the floor of her own private changing area; an added benefit of becoming Legacy Champion.
While she had no issues breaking into supply closets to stash her belongings, Billy accepted this perk gladly. The closets in some of the past venues were awfully cramped, and it was nice to have a place to properly spread out.
Billy had been chain-smoking for over an hour. There's an open carton of Winstons sitting on the ground in front of her, with several empty packs scattered around to mark her progress. Lighting a fresh cigarette off the end of a nearly-finished one, she tosses the still-burning butt into the corner of the room.
The entire place smells like a wet ashtray; but it’s preferable to what it might stink of if Billy’s own aroma were allowed to spread, without the tobacco to cover it up.
Her dead eyes are entirely focused on the screen, for perhaps the first time this evening; she was always interested in seeing the caliber of talent in the earlier matches, but she was no longer as entertained as she once was by the chaos of the Fallout midcard.
She’d been in the company long enough to taste the unrestrained violence at the very peak of Project: Honor. And just like any addict, a subpar product no longer did the job in satisfying her needs.
But Mark Hunter?
Now, he was interesting enough to capture Billy’s full attention.
The moment he stepped into the ring and grabbed a microphone, her racing, wandering thoughts calmed themselves, as every working brain cell in her drug-addled head hung on his every word.
The moment he stepped into the ring and grabbed a microphone, her racing, wandering thoughts calmed themselves, as every working brain cell in her drug-addled head hung on his every word.
And surprisingly, it doesn’t take him as long as Billy might expect to get to a salient point. When she hears those words, she perks up even more, as the last piece of Mark Hunter’s plan seems to fall into place.
“-doing that by stepping up and taking the Ascended Prime title. Havoc is now of no use and Fallout needs me, Fallout needs-”
There it is.
That's the reason he stood by and let Billy drown the Nightmare Tyrant.
Not because he thought Fallout would be a better, more chaotic place without its undisputed King.
Not because he felt Billy deserved to win.
Not even because he thought it would be funny; even that was something that Billy could have respected, as someone who found amusement in human suffering.
No.
He did it because he wanted the belt Havoc held captive in an unbreakable grip.
A belt that Mark Hunter apparently felt he had no chance of seizing with the Demon still alive to defend it.
Probably a wise decision on the Straight Shooter’s part. If Havoc could stop Billy's undefeated streak, what chance would Mark have of standing up against him?
Billy’s first reaction to this revelation is laughter, but that outburst dies off as soon as the gears in her mind start to turn; replaced with an angry scowl as she stares at the screen.
This man thinks he can stroll in and take the Ascended Prime Championship without a fight from anyone else? That Billy was just there to do his dirty work, getting rid of a man he had no chance of beating in a square fight?
“Ya fuckin’ coward... couldn't man up and fight Havoc yourself, so ya have me take him outta the game for ya, huh?!”
It’s more of an enunciated scream than anything resembling normal speech. Billy spits the words out like they were capable of traveling through the television, into the ring, and stabbing Mark Hunter in the heart.
Already on the way to working herself up into a locker-room-destroying frenzy, her fury is cut off as the lights in the arena dim. The words ‘I AM ALIVE’ appear on the giant JumboTron screen, and Billy can hardly believe her eyes.
“...huh?”
Her confusion is genuine, but it’s replaced by something else the moment the lights come back on to reveal Havoc standing directly behind Mark Hunter.
The effect is immediate, and perhaps not what one might expect from Billy Bennett at this moment.
“...oh my god...”
Rather than sarcastic or surprised, the words sound genuinely thankful. She sounds so happy to see her hated rival, the one man who had managed to push her past her own limits.
“...I can't believe...”
Billy crawls forward on hands and knees, until she’s directly in front of the television set. Her previously blank eyes are alive and shining with joy, as she watches Havoc deal with Mark Hunter in his usual brutal fashion.
Clasping both hands in front of her chest in prayer, she looks up at the screen like she were addressing some kind of deity above her. Her voice is trembling as she takes in a sight that she had assumed she would never see again.
The Nightmare Tyrant.
The Ascended Prime Champion.
Havoc.
He’s alive.
“THANK YA!” she finally squeals, her voice cracking at its peak as tears begin to flow down her face.
“YES! YES! FUCK YESSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!”
Opening her arms wide, she screams at the top of her lungs as her entire body shakes with ecstasy.
And out of the corner of her eye, she spots it sitting in the corner of the room.
The Universal Briefcase.
She really thought it had fulfilled its final purpose at The Crowning, when she ruined Alyssa Grace's little victory.
It still held two cards inside: one for a shot at the Prime Championship, and another for the Noble Championship.
Maybe that damned thing might still have a use, now that Havoc has defeated death itself.
Slowly, a wry, sneaky smile begins to form on her face.
“Yeah... this is just... perfect...” she mumbles, falling back from her kneeling position. Billy stares blissfully up at the ceiling overhead as her mind dances with possibilities... now that the King has returned.
It’s a good thing she decided to hold onto that stupid Briefcase, after all.
----------
Billy spent so much time rolling on the floor that she almost missed her match in the main event.
It took a brave member of the Fallout backstage crew to finally go knocking on her door, before she composed herself - or as close to such a thing as possible - and changed into her ring attire.
What followed was one of the most violent matches she’d ever been a part of, both here and in the various backyard feds she cut her teeth in. The majority is a blur, with Billy giving in to her bloodiest urges against a man she hated with a burning passion, and a newcomer who had managed to catch her eye with his impressive displays.
Her next coherent memory is of pinning Tate Selby to win. She’s bleeding, battered, bruised... and so very happy.
Not only had Jason Long pushed Billy farther and harder than she had imagined him doing, but this newcomer was something else entirely.
Someone like her.
She sensed it going into the match, just from watching him fight and listening to him talk.
But she couldn’t be sure until she had taken his measure personally.
Tate Selby did not disappoint.
As she rolls off of the defeated rookie, Billy remains on the canvas; long enough to pat him on the shoulder and lean in to whisper hoarsely.
“Ya did good, big man... real good... hope ya can play with Billy again somet-”
Before she’s able to finish, she sees something that stuns her into silence.
Tate Selby is already awake, knocked out by Billy’s brutal finishing maneuver barely long enough for her to make the pin.
“Goddamn... what the fuck are ya made outta, pal...?”
Tate should be able to notice one thing that is completely unmistakable: the impressed, almost reverent tone in her voice.
Finally, someone who can take a proper beating without being broken.
A new playmate.
====================
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APRIL 1st, 2022
WORCESTER, MA
HILTON GARDEN INN
After the show, Billy Bennett found herself dealing with a situation that she had been expecting - and dreading - for weeks. Savannah Andrews had finally found out the truth about her husband.
She comforted her friend backstage, before driving her to the nearest hotel of decent quality. Bennett had checked in using a false ID, paying a cash deposit to avoid any paper trail.
Even in an emotional moment like this, Billy took great care to cover her tracks. The fact that Holt might already know about his secret getting out only made it more important for them to leave no trace of checking into this hotel.
Once in the room, Savannah started venting; ranting and crying as Billy sat and listened, like a good friend. After failing to prevent this entire situation from happening, she knew it was the least she could do.
She held Savannah’s hand, squeezing it at all the right moments and offering words of encouragement to help her move past the emotional turmoil.
Eventually, the conversation lulled to a point where they could begin to relax, laying on the bed in a comfortable silence.
As she stares up at the ceiling, fingers intertwined with her friend, Billy seems more worried than she ought to be, considering the relative serenity of this moment.
Despite the front she put on, Billy wasn’t fearless. She didn’t actually possess the unshakable confidence that she worked so hard to portray.
She was damaged inside; not just from a childhood of abuse, but also the horrible things she’d seen and done.
Jealousy. Insecurity. Paranoia. Guilt. Self-loathing.
All the dark parts of her personality that she tried to stop anyone from glimpsing.
Even after sliding back into full-blown addiction, they didn't go away. All the stimulants and narcotics in the world could never really cleanse her mind; they only made it easier for Billy to hide her true self.
Even after sliding back into full-blown addiction, they didn't go away. All the stimulants and narcotics in the world could never really cleanse her mind; they only made it easier for Billy to hide her true self.
If she was too fucked up to know which thoughts and feelings were real, didn’t that mean she could be whoever she wanted to be?
Maybe she believed that once upon a time, but not now.
She suddenly pulls her hand free from Savannah’s grip, groaning slightly - still injured from last night’s fight - as she sits up on the edge of the bed so that Savannah can only see her back.
Billy rests her elbows on her knees, hair falling in front of her face as she hangs her head.
“Everything okay, Bill?” asks Savannah, to which Billy responds with a nod and a deep breath.
“Sure. I was just thinkin...” she says, voice hesitant.
She’d never really opened up to her friend. Something had always held her back; some feeling of vulnerability.
She’d never really opened up to her friend. Something had always held her back; some feeling of vulnerability.
Finally, she shuts her eyes tight and swallows hard, forcing herself to continue. Her voice is low and calm as she prepares to show Savannah a hidden side of herself.
The soft underbelly of the infamous and feared Billy Bennett.
“People see me and they just assume, y’know? They think I ain’t afraid of nothin’."
"I wish that were true.”
"I wish that were true.”
“Truth is, I always been scared, ever since I was a kid. Wakin’ up every morning with my chest so tight I could hardly breathe... not knowin’ what waited for me just outside my door."
"My dad, he wasn’t... he wasn’t a good person. He made me what I am today, for better and worse, sure. Sometimes I wish it coulda been another way, though. The relationship ya got with your old man, seein’ the way ya get along....
"I knew I could never have that. Not with the fucked-up family I was born into.”
"My dad, he wasn’t... he wasn’t a good person. He made me what I am today, for better and worse, sure. Sometimes I wish it coulda been another way, though. The relationship ya got with your old man, seein’ the way ya get along....
"I knew I could never have that. Not with the fucked-up family I was born into.”
“Then one day, I decided I was done. Done lettin’ other people have that kinda power over me. Done lettin’ 'em rule my mind with fear."
"Why should I allow ‘em do that? I was a Bennett like any one of ‘em, all I had to do was start actin’ like one."
"Actin'. Fakin' it. Pretendin' to be somethin' I wasn't, until I became it."
"I still wake up every mornin' with my heart poundin' and my mind racin'; probably why I do so many... well, y’know all ‘bout my problems already."
"Point is, it’s just a matter of takin’ charge of your own life, girl.”
"Why should I allow ‘em do that? I was a Bennett like any one of ‘em, all I had to do was start actin’ like one."
"Actin'. Fakin' it. Pretendin' to be somethin' I wasn't, until I became it."
"I still wake up every mornin' with my heart poundin' and my mind racin'; probably why I do so many... well, y’know all ‘bout my problems already."
"Point is, it’s just a matter of takin’ charge of your own life, girl.”
“Y’know what I me-”
Her question is cut off as she glances over her shoulder to look back at Savannah. What Billy sees wounds her in a way fists never could; her friend isn’t hanging on her every word, as one might expect.
No, she’s looking down at her phone, fingers tapping away; Savannah is obviously deeply focused on some other conversation.
It takes a few seconds to process what’s happening, but when she realizes her friend - the only one she ever trusted enough to show her weaknesses to - is talking to someone else on her phone, Billy’s heart breaks.
She was such an idiot.
How could she have been so stupid as to believe that someone like Savannah Andrews could honestly care about her, or want to hear the things she had to say?
“Savannah...?” she says, louder and more directly.
The other woman finally glances up from the glowing screen to stare at Billy with a mildly annoyed expression.
The other woman finally glances up from the glowing screen to stare at Billy with a mildly annoyed expression.
“Huh? Oh, sorry, I was just talking to my friend.”
“But, I’m right here, and I...”
“Oh sure, some friend you are. How long did you know about Andrew without telling me? Nobody who really cared about me wo-”
Before Savannah has the chance to finish her petty, bitchy, spiteful comment, Billy is already on her feet and moving. She tries to keep Savannah at her back, so as to not reveal how deeply she’s been hurt with those few words.
Fortunately, she didn’t unpack her belongings; everything is still in her backpack, including the Legacy Championship... as for the Universal Briefcase, it's in her Jeep, forgotten. These days it seemed more like an afterthought than one of the most coveted items on Fallout.
She never really wanted the thing in the first place; she just wanted to take it from Syndicate, as a way to provoke him into anger, or tear him down, or just to get his attention...
...she can’t really remember why she wanted it so badly. Just that she did, and now that she had it the shine had worn off.
Only the timely return of Havoc seems to have restored some purpose to the damn thing; and even that was more for her own amusement, considering she no longer has any use for the Demon's precious title.
Only the timely return of Havoc seems to have restored some purpose to the damn thing; and even that was more for her own amusement, considering she no longer has any use for the Demon's precious title.
It was a strange direction for her mind to go here and now, and she shakes her head hard to snap herself out of it.
Grabbing the pack and slinging it over one shoulder, she turns to move towards the door... only to find Savannah standing in front of it, arms outstretched to block the exit.
“Where do you think you’re going, Bill?! You’re just going to leave me here, alone, after everything you and Holt did to me?”
“You think you can just walk away now, huh? Well fuck you, I won’t let you.”
Her friend - or whatever she was to Billy now - was practically spitting in the Floridian’s face, her sweet features twisted into something bitter, almost hateful as she gears up to unload even more venom at the Legacy Champion.
Fortunately - or unfortunately - Billy knows just what to say to make Savannah feel as stupid and worthless as she herself has been made to feel; but that doesn’t make actually saying the words any easier.
What comes out of her mouth is the most difficult thing Billy has ever said. Considering that, she does an admirable job of making it sound like she means it; even if she’s only saying it to completely sever the painful, bittersweet friendship she's found herself entangled in.
“Jason was right about yo-”
Billy isn’t allowed to finish, as Savannah pulls one hand back to unleash a full-force slap across her face. The former Queen of Candyland possesses a surprising amount of strength for a woman her size, and the impact sends Billy’s head snapping to one side.
She actually stumbles, one hand moving to her lip as Savannah stands her ground in front of the door, looking full of righteous fury after such an over-the-line comment from someone she considered a friend.
Pulling her hand back to stare, Billy seems surprised as she notices a streak of blood on the tips of her fingers. The slap was strong and sharp enough to split her bottom lip, and the Bennett woman’s tongue darts out to lap away at the small trickle of blood that flows from her broken skin.
“Move.”
“Apologize.”
“MOVE.”
“Or what? You’re not going to hurt me. You won't. You can't.”
A deep sigh escapes Billy’s lips; she’s right. She won’t do a damn thing to harm Savannah physically. Not after everything she'd done for the Bennett woman.
Billy might be a terrible person by all standards, but she can’t just forget how this woman made her feel wanted, worthwhile, and like an actual person instead of an animal.
No matter what Savannah said or did, it’s likely that Billy could never do a thing to hurt her.
At least not in any obvious way.
At least not in any obvious way.
But someone as resourceful as Billy always had more than one way to skin a cat.
Time for her to make it clear to Savannah that she might have been a friend once, but that didn’t mean Bennett was above threatening her in other ways.
Time for her to make it clear to Savannah that she might have been a friend once, but that didn’t mean Bennett was above threatening her in other ways.
“Well... ya ain’t wrong. I won’t hurt ya, Sav; even if that’s what ya deserve. But hey, didn’t your new toy just join Fallout? What’s their name again? Zero? Maybe I should go say 'hi' sometime...”
The moment that name leaves her mouth, the anger on Savannah’s face is replaced with a look of fear and despair; something that Billy is far more familiar seeing from someone standing opposite her. It’s probably helped along by the feral, bloodthirsty grin that crosses her face; showing a part of herself that she’d taken great pains to avoid exposing Savannah to.
"Y-you wouldn't..."
"Y-you wouldn't..."
“Wouldn't be sure of that,” she hisses, her voice low as she delivers something that’s more than a threat, but a promise, “I’ve done a lotta horrible shit to people who ain’t ever done a thing to me; d’ya really think I’ll hesitate to make that poor soul pay for your crimes?”
Whether she’s just bluffing or not, her play works like a charm. Without uttering another sound, Savannah moves like a zombie to shuffle away from the door. For her part, Billy’s manic smile is replaced - for just a moment - by something almost apologetic as she moves past her ‘friend’, if she could even be called that any more.
“Just... don’t fuckin’ call me again,” she says, instead of the apology that Savannah probably deserves.
And with that, she exits the hotel room, shutting the door tight as she steps into the hallway. Immediately, the sound of sobbing and screaming is heard from within the room. It tears Billy apart, as she presses her shoulder against the wall to steady herself and bite a crying fit.
It takes her only a few seconds to steel herself, as the walls she used to have around her heart are already on their way to being rebuilt. Saying the words ‘Jason was right about you’ had done plenty to kill the part inside Billy that Savannah had awoken... and as for the rest?
Well, she just had to remember the lessons she learned as a child.
Sentimentality is a weakness.
Everyone betrays you eventually.
Friends aren’t necessary.
As Billy enters the stairwell and begins to descend the steps to ground level, she tries to think about something more upbeat; her brother Bobby getting out of prison. Six years on Rikers Island was a torture that someone like Billy Bennett could never even fathom.
The attempt to fill her head with positive thoughts doesn’t last long; she only makes it down one flight of stairs, before collapsing in a heap on the next landing. A pained, strangled cry escapes her lips as frantic hands begin to rummage through her backpack, looking for something to deaden the emotions that rage through her.
Eventually, she finds a small baggie of tan powder...
...but she’s unable to open it with her shaky fingers, trying several times and failing as she begins to spit curses at the bag, at Savannah, at the world, and - most of all - at herself.
She did this.
No matter who or what Billy tried to blame - her father, her upbringing, her addiction - she could have changed. She had the opportunity of a lifetime, when Savannah saw past her reputation and took a chance on befriending the killer.
No matter who or what Billy tried to blame - her father, her upbringing, her addiction - she could have changed. She had the opportunity of a lifetime, when Savannah saw past her reputation and took a chance on befriending the killer.
But she’d fucked it all up.
Jealousy, or greed, or just being a bad friend. Billy couldn’t quite put her finger on the exact reason why everything fell apart; she just knew it was her own fault.
Jealousy, or greed, or just being a bad friend. Billy couldn’t quite put her finger on the exact reason why everything fell apart; she just knew it was her own fault.
“Fuck... this...” she growls, biting down on the baggie with gnashing teeth and tearing off the top flap to gain access to the drugs within.
Like a hungry dog presented with a meal, she presses the opening against her nostrils and upends it, snorting up the heroin messily and clumsily. She couldn’t even guess at the purity or amount present within; she’s beyond caring.
She hadn’t died from an overdose yet, and if today was the day her habits finally caught up with her...
...well, that was fine, too.
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APRIL 3rd, 2022
NEW YORK CITY, NY
QUEENS PLAZA
It’s finally the day.
One that Billy Bennett had been waiting years for.
Her brother Bobby Bennett was being released from Rikers Island. So she was here, at the drop-off point where countless prisoners had been set free to return to civilized society.
Or not, whatever the case might be.
Queens Plaza.
Billy checks her watch; it’s almost 3:15am. The prison always did these releases early in the morning, so the ex-cons could gather their wits and leave before decent folk were forced to see them.
It’s still dark, and colder than it should be considering the time of the year. Billy would probably never get used to the climate outside her home state of Florida, no matter how much time she spent traveling around the country.
As she waits, leaning against a wall and tapping her foot to some imagined beat, her mind travels through the events that led up to this point, until she finally settles on one memory in particular.
----------
Billy and Bo stand across from each other, six years younger than they are now. Despite their youth, they both carry themselves like weathered, experienced adults; after all, this was after they dumped their father in the swamp and took over the family business.
That kind of thing makes someone mature quicker than they might otherwise, even in a criminal clan like the Bennetts.
“Sure he’s ready? Kid is still soft, maybe we oughta give him some time...”
“It’s your job to show the young ones the ropes, Bill. Unless you’re not feeling up to the task anymore?”
“Fuck yourself, Bo. Ain’t ‘bout that, it’s just... it’s Bobby, man. He ain’t built like us, y’know as well as I do.”
Bo turns his attention away from his sister for the first time, to cast a glance at the third figure in the room. A skinny kid wearing eyeglasses and fidgeting as he stands against the wall.
“How about it, Bobby? Is your sister right? Not ready for this?”
Clearing his throat nervously, the young Bennett boy’s voice cracks slightly as he begins to speak.
“I’m ready, guys. I wanna help, and I promise I won’t let the family down,” he says, pleading his case to his two older siblings as they stare at him silently.
Sighing and rubbing the bridge of her nose, Billy shakes her head as she looks at her brother Bobby.
“Y’sure ya want this life, kid? You’re smarter than all of us... except maybe Byron, but he ain’t no good for nothin’ else since I fucked his leg up. Ya could do anythin’ ya want with your life, why this?”
A small, trembling smile crosses Bobby’s face as he speaks more eagerly.
“I just wanna show y'all that I can pull my own weight.”
Maybe if he had said anything other than that, Billy would have put her foot down and refused to take him. But she knows what Bobby is feeling; she’d fought her whole life to show her father and her older brother that she belonged.
“Fuck,” she whispers.
Bo smiles as Billy turns again to glance back towards him, already knowing her answer before she even utters it.
“Fine. I’ll take him with us... but Bobby, this ain’t no game, alright? We’re gonna be goin’ after some real killers, and one fuck-up could land us all in the ground. Or worse, behind bars.”
"Gotcha, sis."
"Gotcha, sis."
----------
That was where it all went wrong for Bobby Bennett; the moment his sister was too weak to do she should’ve done. Too willing to give him a shot, despite every fiber of her being screaming at her that it was a mistake.
Six of his best years, gone in the blink of an eye.
She was supposed to protect him, and she failed.
Now, she had to make peace with that... and apologize face-to-face, for the first time.
The Bennett woman is only waiting for a few more minutes before she spots someone strolling in the near distance.
It takes her a second to recognize him for who he is.
It takes her a second to recognize him for who he is.
He looks so different; gone is the nervy young man she once knew, replaced by someone who strides confidently through the Plaza, muscles visible through his street clothes.
Though the shock at seeing such a drastic transformation is unavoidable, Billy doesn’t honestly know what she should have expected. She hadn’t seen the man in over half a decade, not even through plexiglass in the prison visiting rooms.
None of the family had gone to visit Bobby while he was behind bars; orders from Bo to cut the ‘failure’ out of clan affairs. There was nothing more embarrassing for a Bennett than to be caught by the law.
But Billy didn’t really care what her brother Bo said. The reason she never stepped foot on Rikers Island to go see Bobby was completely different than ‘orders from above’.
For a woman that didn’t outwardly appear to fear anything in this world, Billy did have one thing that terrified her above all else: prison.
Even walking into the complex as a visitor would have left her sweaty, shaking, and running for the nearest exit. Every door slamming shut behind her only would have increased her anxiety, to the point where she knew she wouldn’t be able to contain it.
She’d never told him the reason she kept their interactions limited to phone calls. She knew how Bobby looked up to her, and she couldn’t tarnish her image in his eyes by admitting to being afraid of anything, particularly something so mundane.
Bobby finally spots her, and both siblings walk at a casual pace until they finally stand only a foot apart.
There's a few seconds of silent appraisal before they move at the same time, stepping forward to wrap their arms around each other in a tight embrace.
One that had been six years in the making.
"Bobby..."
"Bill..."
“I missed ya...”
“Not as much as I missed my favourite sister.”
"I'm your only sister, dumbass."
"Technically true, then."
"I'm your only sister, dumbass."
"Technically true, then."
The strength in Bobby's arms take her by surprise. Nothing at all like the young man who went away; the one who had been pushed around by his larger, stronger brothers his entire life.
Clearly all those years of prison food and work-out time did wonders.
But there is one thing that troubles Billy, as they release their grip and take a step back to look one another up and down.
He’s not the same sweet, innocent kid that went into prison. There’s something hiding behind his eyes; something that Billy recognizes, since she sees it every time she looks in the mirror.
Something has been broken inside of Bobby’s brain. She can’t even imagine the things he was forced to do to survive - and thrive - inside those walls.
It works out well for Billy, despite the pain it causes her.
Here was a man who looked like he was capable of anything, with a list of contacts made inside Rikers. Contacts that were loyal to him.
Here was a man who looked like he was capable of anything, with a list of contacts made inside Rikers. Contacts that were loyal to him.
Her ace in the hole.
The one Bennett who might well wind up being the deciding factor in the civil war that was now inevitable.
Billy just wishes it didn’t have to happen the way it did.
But there’s no turning back. The damage is done.
Bobby was a grown man now, and if he wanted to fight beside her, she’d be a damn fool to turn him down.
She was a lot of things, but that wasn’t one of them.
“I’m sorry I let ya rot in that place. I coulda... done somethin’...”
“Don't apologize. That gun was my responsibility. I fucked up, and I paid the price; ya ain’t had nothin' to do with it. Wouldn't have wanted ya to get yourself locked up tryin' to get me out, anyway.”
Her brother dismissing her sincere apology as unnecessary pushes her dangerously close to tears; it's only the desire to remain strong in front of him that keeps her from sobbing.
“I appreciate that, man... needed to hear it, if I'm bein' honest. Now let’s get outta this shithole city. Got a li’l celebration planned in Jersey. A welcome home party for my favourite brother.”
====================
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APRIL 4th, 2022
NEWARK, NJ
ABANDONED WAREHOUSE
A warehouse somewhere in Newark's industrial district.
The entire building had been converted to serve as a space for underground, illegal raves and parties. At present, it houses precisely that; along with a trio of Bennetts - and a number of their affiliated soldiers - here to celebrate the release of Bobby.
The party is in full swing as the thumping bass - a mixture of techno and hip-hop beats - fills the massive interior of the building.
Standing against the wall nearest the stage, Billy seems like the only one not focused entirely on the celebration that rages around her. Her eyes move through the crowd, keeping her attention split between her two brothers in the middle of the partygoers.
Bobby and Baxton.
Her two lieutenants; the men who would serve as her left and right hands in the days, weeks, and months to come.
However long it took until this business with her brother was finished, once and for all.
An ex-convict only just released back into the outside world, and a drug addict on-par with Billy herself.
They made quite a pair, but they were her responsibility now. They'd sided with Billy instead of what was arguably the smarter play: throwing in with their eldest brother Bo. That kind of loyalty wasn't lost on her, and she would do whatever was necessary - even lay down her life - to make sure they didn't regret their choice.
They were winning this war, one way or another.
She’s not overly concerned about her upcoming match; she simply didn’t rate Hendrix as a credible threat. He might surprise her, but she wasn’t about to sweat a match like this.
Not after the hell she’d been through on Fallout already. Compared to the likes of Jason Long, Havoc and Alyssa Grace, this ought to be a cakewalk.
A submission match played to her advantage no matter how she looked at it. Holds were her specialty, and her grip was as tight as a man twice her weight.
At the end of the day, Brandon Hendrix was just another wrestler. A muscle-bound clown who would try to win by overpowering her and throwing her around. She was used to that; she could take whatever punishment he might be capable of dishing out.
She'd beaten stronger, tougher, and faster.
Once she took him down to the mat - where his size and strength wouldn't matter - and wrapped her arms around his neck, he would be nothing.
Less than nothing, in fact.
Instead of her head being consumed by the upcoming Public Execution PPV, her mind races with thoughts of her family, the conflict brewing, the more worthy challengers for her Legacy Championship that waited in the wings, and - of course - Savannah Andrews.
Strangely enough, her former friend takes up a large percentage of her thoughts. It's likely that the explosive confrontation in the hotel room would haunt her for the rest of her life.
Just another bad memory to add to the pile.
Billy moves suddenly, and with great purpose; almost as if she had just come to some conclusion inside her own head, and decided to move past the thoughts that had been plaguing her. She clambers up onto the elevated stage, grabbing a microphone as she begins to half-rap/half-shout into the object, her voice amplified over the venue’s sound system.
“Come pull up, lemme know what's the problem
Where he at, I been fiendin' to drop him
Rock him, pop him
Been a minute, so I'm losin' my conscience
Everythin' dead, don't got time for the nonsense...”
Where he at, I been fiendin' to drop him
Rock him, pop him
Been a minute, so I'm losin' my conscience
Everythin' dead, don't got time for the nonsense...”
She goes on for more than a full minute, before something odd happens; Billy’s voice is choked off by a strange mewling sound, as the reality of her tenuous situation hits her. Despite the MDMA in her system and desperate attempts to force such negative thoughts out of her mind, there's just no escaping some truths.
Even with her brothers here, she feels completely alone. The weight on her shoulders is tremendous, and it wasn't just the fact that there had been two nearly-successful attempts on her life in just over a month... with more sure to come.
She had responsibilities now. Other people to protect.
She had responsibilities now. Other people to protect.
It was no longer just Billy against the world. She couldn’t act as reckless and wild as she did even a few months ago.
She had to tighten things up. Control her baser instincts. Get her head in the game. Worry less about the pain she felt herself, and more about her job.
The microphone slips out of her hand as she drops her arm back to her side, to the disappointment of the crowd who seemed into her impromptu freestyle. Billy barely even notices the audience, as she slinks back off the stage and towards a dark corner of the warehouse.
Her people in the crowd can’t be allowed to see her depressed, or looking weak. They needed to see her strong; strong enough to tackle any challenge. It was a difficult act to keep up, but considering everything she’d accomplished - against all odds - she felt confident she could keep her mask on long enough to end this war.
What happened after that?
Billy couldn’t even begin to guess.
====================
====================
APRIL 5th, 2022
NEWARK, NJ
ROADSIDE DINER
The party had ended hours ago, the die-hards finally giving up as the sun began to rise over the warehouse district. Naturally, the trio of Bennett kids were among the last to abandon the celebration...
...but perhaps surprisingly, it was Billy Bennett herself - not known for ending festivities at an appropriate time - who finally dragged her brothers out into the harsh light of a new day.
She insisted they find somewhere to have a nice breakfast and discuss more important topics. They didn’t bother to complain, falling in like good soldiers.
They knew better than to second guess orders from a family member higher up on the chain of command... and considering the fact that they’d both decided to back Billy's power grab, there was nobody with more authority than her.
The three siblings had been sitting in a modest roadside diner on the highway leading out of Newark, enjoying what little food they could stomach with the lingering effects of substance use playing havoc on their appetite. There's a few plates of barely-touched eggs, bacon and toast; the main draw seems to be the coffee, which they are all drinking like their lives depended on it.
Each of them looks wired and tired; about what one would expect coming from that kind of party. To his credit, Bobby seems to fit right into the vibe that Baxton and Billy share, despite being away for so long.
Each of them looks wired and tired; about what one would expect coming from that kind of party. To his credit, Bobby seems to fit right into the vibe that Baxton and Billy share, despite being away for so long.
“Shouldn’t ya be trainin' for this match, sis?”
Baxton and Billy share a brief glance, before they both burst into laughter simultaneously. Billy actually puts her head down on the table and slams her fist against the surface, in the throes of a full-on fit.
Eventually, Baxton stops chuckling, but Billy continues to squeal in amusement, face down for another minute or two.
Gradually, her cackling dies down. Several customers - whose attention had become fixed on the table of Bennetts - turn back to their meal as Billy lifts her head to reveal eyes wet with tears of laughter.
“Ahhhh... good one, Bobby,” she says, completely dismissing his question.
“Yeah, real funny, bro. Y’think Bill here has anythin' to worry ‘bout? Ya really have been gone too long.”
Bobby looks almost ashamed he’d even asked the question, lips quirking to one side as he looks down at the table.
Before Billy can tell him it’s okay, an honest mistake with no harm done, Baxton opens his mouth after taking a long sip of coffee that’s more sugar than caffeine.
“So, Bill, what’s this I hear ‘bout ya havin’ a girlfriend these days?”
Baxton has no way of knowing what had happened only a few days earlier, but the deadly glare that Billy suddenly shoots him does an excellent job of letting him know that bringing up Savannah was a mistake.
“Don’t.”
A single word that sends the appropriate message: shut the fuck up and never mention it again.
A single word that sends the appropriate message: shut the fuck up and never mention it again.
It works perfectly, as Baxton immediately shuts his mouth and joins Bobby in looking down at the table, both brothers unwilling to meet their sister’s gaze.
A few tense moments pass, before an exhalation of breath causes Billy’s shoulders to slump, the anger passing from her face as quickly as it appeared. Shrugging it off, she picks up her own cup of coffee - black and strong - to swallow the last dregs resting at the bottom.
She opens her mouth, about to move the conversation along to more business-related matters, when something captures her attention. The door to the diner comes flying open, heralding three new arrivals.
Dressed in nondescript clothes, each of them wears a bizarre animal mask to cover their faces. There’s a larger man with a Rooster mask, a short woman in a Bunny mask, and an average-sized individual wearing an Owl mask.
They're all visibly armed.
“What the fuck...” grumbles Billy, more annoyed at the interruption than the fact the trio are waving pistols around the diner.
“ALRIGHT EVERYONE, WALLETS OUT, HANDS ON THE TABLE!” shouts Owl, as the trio spread through the diner to ensure nobody does anything stupid.
His voice sounds like that of a late teen, at the oldest. Billy notices immediately and smiles.
The customers are all very quick to react, doing precisely what they've been told.
His voice sounds like that of a late teen, at the oldest. Billy notices immediately and smiles.
The customers are all very quick to react, doing precisely what they've been told.
Rather than turn their gaze on the robbers waving guns, Billy's brothers look to her, as if awaiting some sign of what they’re supposed to do here. They’re both armed, as is their sister...
...but she merely shakes her head and mouths one word:
‘Naw.’
Rather than argue the point, they both place their wallets on the table before putting their palms down on the surface. Billy takes a crumpled wad of bills out of her pocket, slamming the money down... but she doesn’t keep her hands in sight as ordered.
Instead, she snakes them back under the table and pulls a Beretta 92FS out of her belt, cocking the weapon and holding it out of sight as she smiles sweetly at the approaching individual in the Bunny mask.
“Howdy, darlin',” she says, voice upbeat and pleasant despite the pistol pointed in her face.
“Hands on the table, bitch!”
“Naw, I ain’t gonna be doin’ that. Money’s all there, though. Might wanna collect your prize and leave, before someone gets hurt.”
There’s a flash of anger visible in the robber’s eyes behind the bizarre animal mask, as she cocks her pistol and repeats her demand.
“Hands. On. The. Table.”
Shrugging, Billy pulls one hand out from under the table, keeping the other concealed and clutching her own weapon, ready to open fire at any moment. She reaches out to grab the cup of coffee sitting in front of her Baxton, pulling it towards her to take a lengthy, obnoxious sip.
“I said naw. Take the cash and go. Trust me.”
Something in her calm and unbothered tone unnerves the gun-toting Bunny, who eyes the woman with the thick Florida accent as if seeing her for the first time. The female robber starts to say something, but seems to think better of it.
She silently gathers up the cash and wallets left on the table, taking a step back to shove the loot into a pillowcase as her partners finish up with the rest of the customers.
She silently gathers up the cash and wallets left on the table, taking a step back to shove the loot into a pillowcase as her partners finish up with the rest of the customers.
“Good luck, kid. Stick to the backroads on your getaway, and ya might wanna hurry. Cops got pretty decent response time 'round these parts.”
The Bunny tilts her head to one side, no doubt wondering why the person she just robbed is giving her advice on getting away scot-free. Billy doesn’t say anything else as she stares directly into the girl’s eyes.
The man in the Rooster mask comes up behind his partner, slapping Bunny on the shoulder and whispering in her ear. The name ‘Billy Bennett’ is audible in the hushed speech, and Bunny quickly backs away as if she's seen a ghost. They turn to retreat, making a hasty escape from the diner with their ill-gotten gains.
It takes a few moments for the rest of the diner patrons to breathe and begin to dial the authorities, but Billy hardly seems bothered by what just occurred, motioning to a trembling waitress for a refill on her coffee as she tucks her pistol away.
“Love to see the next generation at work. Really takes me back, y’know?” she offers to her brothers, as an explanation for why she sat there and allowed the three of them to be robbed.
Wasn’t too long ago that she was a dumb kid pulling the same sort of jobs, just to keep herself occupied. Wouldn’t sit right with her to end the lives of some up-and-comers like that, just to protect a few measly thousand dollars of her own money.
And just as quickly as her attention was drawn away by the robbery, it's back to business for Billy Bennett.
Just another day in the life.
"Movin' on from all that... the truth is, we're gonna need money. Not much we can offer to our allies now except a war; we need to change that. I got all the connects, just need the funds to make shit happen. Now, Baxton, I need ya to stay here in Newark and organize with some of the local gangs, get a couple new spots set up to start movin' product."
"Got it, Bill."
"And Bobby, I got other plans for us. How d'ya feel 'bout goin' to visit mama's people in Kentucky?"
"Crawfords?! Ya sure that's a good idea? They're gonna be behind our brother. No way they back a woman's play; not even yours."
"That's a fact. Thing is, I had one specific Crawford in mind. Someone who hates her own people even more than she hates us."
"Charli? Ya gotta be kiddin' me, sis. Ya really wanna go see that fuckin' cop? After everythin' that happened between y'all, there's no way she's gonna be happy to see us."
"Well, li'l bro, that's the thing 'bout our line of work. If people are happy to see ya, you're doin' somethin' wrong."
"Uhhh, shouldn't we get outta here before the cops show up, guys?"
"Lemme finish this coffee real quick..."
"Who's gonna pay the bill? They took my wallet."
"Jesus fuckin' Christ, man..."
====================
And just as quickly as her attention was drawn away by the robbery, it's back to business for Billy Bennett.
Just another day in the life.
"Movin' on from all that... the truth is, we're gonna need money. Not much we can offer to our allies now except a war; we need to change that. I got all the connects, just need the funds to make shit happen. Now, Baxton, I need ya to stay here in Newark and organize with some of the local gangs, get a couple new spots set up to start movin' product."
"Got it, Bill."
"And Bobby, I got other plans for us. How d'ya feel 'bout goin' to visit mama's people in Kentucky?"
"Crawfords?! Ya sure that's a good idea? They're gonna be behind our brother. No way they back a woman's play; not even yours."
"That's a fact. Thing is, I had one specific Crawford in mind. Someone who hates her own people even more than she hates us."
"Charli? Ya gotta be kiddin' me, sis. Ya really wanna go see that fuckin' cop? After everythin' that happened between y'all, there's no way she's gonna be happy to see us."
"Well, li'l bro, that's the thing 'bout our line of work. If people are happy to see ya, you're doin' somethin' wrong."
"Uhhh, shouldn't we get outta here before the cops show up, guys?"
"Lemme finish this coffee real quick..."
"Who's gonna pay the bill? They took my wallet."
"Jesus fuckin' Christ, man..."
====================
APRIL 14th, 2022
HICKMAN COUNTY, KY
CHARLI CRAWFORD’S CABIN
The moon hangs high over the woods of Hickman County, Kentucky.
In a small clearing of trees sits a modest cabin, belonging to a woman known as Charli Crawford.
Just like the Bennetts in Florida, her family controlled much of the organized crime within the borders of Kentucky.
Their power and reach was so great that Bray Bennett wed Clementine Crawford to unite the two criminal clans and build his powerbase outside of Florida.
The families were now inextricably linked. Their business dealings were tightly woven together, working hand-in-glove to maintain the power, respect and fear that both groups commanded in their own territory.
At some point, Charli had travelled down to Florida with her mother - Billy's aunt - to meet her cousins and learn a few tricks from the swamp dwellers.
Something happened there that changed Charli’s outlook on life forever.
Something involving her cousin, Billy Bennett.
Something she had never spoken about to anyone outside the family, terrified into silence by threats of reciprocation if she ever opened her mouth to outsiders.
It's been more than a decade since the tragedy occurred, but Charli still carried the mental scars. The wounds were so deep that they drove her to shun her own family and enter law enforcement when she came of age.
That was over now; her career ruined by drugs discovered in her personal vehicle and accusations of money laundering. All a set-up by her family, but more than enough to land her a two-year prison sentence and a black mark on her record that ruined any hope of her becoming a cop again.
Eking out a living with shift work at the local mines and various backyard wrestling shows around rural Kentucky, Charli is returning from one of the latter when she walks through the front door of her cabin.
No sooner has she crossed the threshold than she feels a large hand falling on her shoulder.
What happens next occurs in a flash, as years of Judo and self-defense training kick in automatically.
Driving an elbow backwards into the intruder's stomach, Charli grabs one of the man’s arms and executes a Seoi Nage throw, sending Bobby Bennett up over her shoulder and crashing down and through a wooden table in the center of the cabin.
It splinters into pieces when her cousin’s body slams into it, as Charli gets the first look at her attacker. She doesn’t recognize him, considering all the changes he’d gone through since they'd last met.
But she does recognize the figure sitting calmly in a chair near the far corner of the room. It takes Charli’s eyes a moment to adapt to the dim light of the cabin, but when they do she breaks out into a cold sweat.
It’s her cousin Billy, smiling and smoking a cigarette as she slowly pushes herself to her feet and begins to approach.
For Charli, seeing her here is like walking into the middle of a nightmare. She’d ceased being scared of anything a long time ago; whatever fear she had left in her heart was killed during her two years in prison.
But one person was still able to cut through her icy, professional exterior. The same woman responsible for that traumatic event in the backwaters of Florida.
That person was here, waiting for her. The realization sends Charli into a full-blown panic attack, lifting her hands up as she begins to back away. She can’t even get it into her head to run out the door; probably a good thing, considering the pistol Billy has holstered.
As she steps towards Charli, Billy draws the gun, pulling out the clip and emptying the chamber. She catches the bullet in mid-air, thumbing it back into the clip and placing them both on a nearby table. Apparently, she's so confident that she has no problem disarming herself.
Cracking her neck to both sides, she doesn't bother to stop as she glances at Bobby, who is still laying on the floor.
"Alright, bro?"
He giggles, apparently sharing his sister's enjoyment of pain.
"Oh, just great, sis."
"Glad to hear it."
By this point, Charli's back is pressed firmly against the wall; she's got nowhere left to go, looking traumatized by being trapped in a room with Billy.
"I... I don't wanna fight you..." she says, voice meek and quiet.
"Can't blame ya there. If I recall correct, things didn't end well for ya last time ya tried your luck against me."
Charli closes her eyes tight and turns her head to the side, as if this was all some horrible vision that she could just ignore or wish away. Unfortunately for her, it's all too real, and Billy comes to a halt only a foot away from her shaking cousin.
“Normally I’d prefer not to talk to a cop... or at least have 'em handcuffed to somethin' before we start... but you’re family, traitorous cunt or not. And I don’t think you’re dumb enough to act out, are ya?”
There's no response from Charli, though she does open her eyes and turn her face to Billy, as whatever shared memory that exists between them plays out in her head.
“Well, are ya?!” shouts Billy, her gravelly voice echoing throughout the confines of the cabin.
"N-no... I won't do anything, I promise..."
“You’re real pretty when you’re scared, cuz. Still a hit with all the boys, I bet.”
For some reason, that last comment brings a sudden flash of anger to Charli's eyes, but she keeps her mouth shut.
"If ya don't wanna talk, that's fine. Ya can just listen. Y'see, we're here to do a job. Still workin' in the mines, right? Well, we need a bit of help, that's all. Then we'll both be outta your hair, and ya can live out your life in these fuckin' woods, hidin' from the rest of the world."
After a brief pause, Charli meets Billy's gaze and nods once, brief and stern.
“Perfect. And when the job is done... before we part ways... if you’re still feelin sore 'bout what I did to your boyfriend back in the day, we can have a nice li’l chat 'bout it."
Shooting a wink at her cousin, Billy's voice turns demanding once again as she pulls out her trusty audiocassette recorder and readies herself to cut a rather late promo on Brandon Hendrix.
"Now, I got a bit of business to attend to here, so I need ya to shut the fuck up... and y'know what? Get on your knees, girl. Ya always were cuter down there."
Despite the shame she feels at being ordered around by her decidedly less sane cousin, Charli isn't about to disobey. She slumps down to her knees, as Billy runs a hand through the woman's braided hair before leaning in to whisper in her ear.
"Thanks, pet. Stay put, would ya?"
Billy moves away to help Bobby back to his feet; the Bennett brother immediately steps in front of Charli, ensuring she doesn't make a break for it. With that handled, Billy walks back to the chair she'd been sitting in minutes ago, settling down into it and hitting 'REC'.
----------
"I AM BRANDON FUCKIN' HENDRIX, HEAR ME ROAAAAAARRRRR!!!"
"Heh... sorry, just couldn't help myself. Don’t know the last time I seen someone so fuckin’ angry for no reason; it’d be funny, if it wasn’t so damn pathetic."
“Watching some grown-ass man throwin’ tantrums on-camera like a goddamn toddler. Where’s your self respect, big guy? Washed away with whatever drugs ya been pumpin’ into your body to get all them big, bloated, useless muscles?”
“Not that it’s any of my business; the only reason I’m even talkin’ to ya is because I was nice enough to open the door to anyone who wanted a shot at my title.”
“Way I see it, ya owe me for makin' this happen. There ain’t no way in hell you’d ever get close enough to even sniff at the Legacy belt if I weren't holdin’ these auditions.”
“Of course, I ain’t expectin’ ya to act as thankful as ya oughta.”
“Would probably sting a bit too much to admit that the only reason you’re even within spittin’ distance of the big leagues is because I'm allowin’ it.”
“Y'know, it kinda hurt hearin’ ya say you’d rather fight any of those other losers I beat for this strap.”
“D’ya really think any of ‘em would have allowed a grubby, graspin' fool like Brandon Hendrix to challenge for a shot at this belt? Don’t kid yourself, boy. Only Billy is nice enough to give ya that kinda opportunity.”
“I think I know why ya said all that though, why you’d wanna fight one of the other three instead of li’l ol’ me.”
“‘Cause ya know Emmy, or Hunter, or Havoc, would give ya a wrestlin’ match. Even the Nightmare Tyrant wouldn’t be as rough on ya as I plan on bein’; he’d probably take some care to leave ya with a bit of that inflated ego intact.”
“Not me though.”
“I’m gonna be aimin' to embarrass ya, fella.”
“It ain’t even nothin’ personal; to be honest, I was more than a bit disappointed when I realized I'd be stuck in this match against ya. I expected a challenger with a bit more substance to step up.”
“Swindle Shelldrake, someone who can get down to my level and gimme a real dirty fight.”
“MYOJIN, the longest reigning Champion in the company, and maybe the best pure athlete we got.”
“Henry Lee Hyde, the monster who elevated the Gatekeeper belt higher than anybody could’ve ever thought possible.”
“Casanova English, a killer who knows as well as I do that all these ‘civilized’ people are just fuckin’ animals under the surface.”
“Just a few names on a long list of worthy adversaries in Project: Honor. After all, this place has the strongest and best in the business.”
“But I get stuck with Brandon Hendrix. It really ain’t fair to someone who's lookin' for a real challenge; good thing I set the rules that I did, ‘cause there ain’t no way you’d be able to last long enough to satisfy me without ‘em. I wager that you’ll be tappin’ out in the first five minutes.”
“Hate havin’ my time wasted with an easy hunt; nothin’ like a bit of a struggle to make a meal taste better.”
“Anyway, there’s a silver linin’ in all this. Wanna hear it? Might interest ya.”
“Y’see, I get to make an example outta ya. I can use ya to show everyone else what happens when someone who ain’t got no place steppin’ up to Billy is dumb enough to actually try me.”
“I’ve always wondered, what’s it feel like to stumble right into a fuckin’ trap? I’m just curious.”
“I ain’t even tryin’ to run ya down, Brandon, but I’m at a loss here. What made ya think ya were up for this? Shit, it’s just your bad luck that I won the Legacy Championship; anyone else woulda laughed ya off as a joke, after ya took to the ‘net whinin’ for a chance ya ain't come close to earnin' yet.”
“But now you’re stuck, no backin’ out now without lookin’ like a punk. I’m sure ya even think ya got a chance of walkin’ outta this with your head held high and your arms raised in victory.”
“I just want ya to be prepared for when that don’t happen. For when I send ya slinkin’ back to Indy Darlin’ with your tail between your legs and your hat in hand, beggin’ for your old spot back after makin’ Provin’ Ground look like the laughin' stock that it is.”
“This belt belongs to Fallout. I ain’t gonna be droppin’ it to nobody from the kiddie brand, that’s for damn sure.”
“All that said, you’re a brave man, and ya deserve credit. The first to raise their hand when everyone else hesitated to take the bait. Bet ya were rarin’ to go the moment I put out the call; and I commend ya for that.”
“Lotta people in your position, with your record and ability, wouldn’t dare to set foot in a ring with Billy.”
“So, that leaves one big question; what makes ya think you’re ready to tangle with me?”
“Beatin’ the Raven don’t impress me as much as ya might hope. That woman was injured, washed-up, with one foot already in the retirement home. Ya think ya would’ve had a hope in hell of winnin’ that match if she was in anythin' approachin' top form?”
“Please, spare me the attempts at comedy. Ain't a good look for ya.”
“I ain’t Elena. Things have changed since her day; I don’t think she would have a chance of reachin’ the heights she did, if she were up against the likes of me.”
“Shit, even Levy pushed ya so hard that ya landed in the hospital with a li’l ‘health scare’. If a clown like that can take ya to death’s door, I’m honestly worried ‘bout what’ll happen to ya when we start to throw down.”
“I mean, I ain’t really. Ya made your choice, and ya gotta live with whatever happens next. Don’t wanna hear ya moanin’ ’bout nothin’ after I’m done with ya. Just pick up the shattered pieces of your pride, and get your ass back to the blue brand to lick your wounds.”
“All them muscles ain’t gonna be no help in this match.”
“Any other time, ya coulda got lucky; maybe took my head off with those giant fists of yours, before pinnin’ me and comin’ through with a big ol’ win against the baddest bitch in this company.”
“Bet that’d be a real feel-good moment for the heroic underdog, wouldn’t it?”
“Too bad whatever advantages ya got don’t mean shit when submissions are all that matter. I seriously doubt some big, slow ox is gonna be able to get a good grip on a slippery, squirmin' snake .”
“But me? Well, makin’ overconfident motherfuckers scream and beg is kinda my thing, y’know? It's what gets me outta bed every mornin’.”
“I got ya for thirty whole minutes, pal; and ya can believe that I’m gonna make full use of every second. Really make ya squeal, for all your fans to hear.”
“I’ll expose ya as the fraud ya are; someone whose head got a li’l too big after a couple of lucky victories, and got punished for it.”
“A tale as old as time. Flyin’ too close to the sun, when you’re better suited crawlin’ in shit with the rest of the maggots.”
“Ya ain’t on my level; not yet, at least. Maybe not ever. Some gaps are just to wide to cross, some mountains too high to scale, some distances too great to travel.”
“Y’see, might be that Brandon Hendrix just don’t got what it takes. No heart for this game. Just not built like the top dogs.”
“I hate to break it to ya, but ya ain’t winnin’ this match; best ya can hope for is a prestige bump from bein’ in the ring with the Legacy Champion.”
“It’s kinda funny when ya think ‘bout it. If ya look close enough, ya might be able to see the hand of fate in all this. I became Champion just in time for an event called 'Public Execution', and my first open challenge snagged me the perfect victim.”
“I’m gonna make sure the show lives up to its name.”
“Cant think of nobody better to set the tone for my reign. Someone who’s been lookin’ stronger lately. A man on the rise, beloved by the fans and the boys backstage.”
“Crushed under my foot, for everyone to see.”
"Just to show 'em that I ain't got no sympathy; not a merciful bone in my entire fuckin' body. That if they're gonna step into the ring with Billy, they best be prepared."
“I’ll leave ya with one last piece of advice: this is your chance to prove me and everyone else wrong. To show that ya really do belong with the apex predators, that ya deserve a shiny gold belt, that ya ain’t just someone who don't know his place.”
“Bring your A-game, Brandon. ‘Cause if I catch ya lackin', this really is gonna be a public execution; and your pride, your career, maybe even your life are gonna be left in that ring, beyond savin’.”
====================
Shooting a wink at her cousin, Billy's voice turns demanding once again as she pulls out her trusty audiocassette recorder and readies herself to cut a rather late promo on Brandon Hendrix.
"Now, I got a bit of business to attend to here, so I need ya to shut the fuck up... and y'know what? Get on your knees, girl. Ya always were cuter down there."
Despite the shame she feels at being ordered around by her decidedly less sane cousin, Charli isn't about to disobey. She slumps down to her knees, as Billy runs a hand through the woman's braided hair before leaning in to whisper in her ear.
"Thanks, pet. Stay put, would ya?"
Billy moves away to help Bobby back to his feet; the Bennett brother immediately steps in front of Charli, ensuring she doesn't make a break for it. With that handled, Billy walks back to the chair she'd been sitting in minutes ago, settling down into it and hitting 'REC'.
----------
"I AM BRANDON FUCKIN' HENDRIX, HEAR ME ROAAAAAARRRRR!!!"
"Heh... sorry, just couldn't help myself. Don’t know the last time I seen someone so fuckin’ angry for no reason; it’d be funny, if it wasn’t so damn pathetic."
“Watching some grown-ass man throwin’ tantrums on-camera like a goddamn toddler. Where’s your self respect, big guy? Washed away with whatever drugs ya been pumpin’ into your body to get all them big, bloated, useless muscles?”
“Not that it’s any of my business; the only reason I’m even talkin’ to ya is because I was nice enough to open the door to anyone who wanted a shot at my title.”
“Way I see it, ya owe me for makin' this happen. There ain’t no way in hell you’d ever get close enough to even sniff at the Legacy belt if I weren't holdin’ these auditions.”
“Of course, I ain’t expectin’ ya to act as thankful as ya oughta.”
“Would probably sting a bit too much to admit that the only reason you’re even within spittin’ distance of the big leagues is because I'm allowin’ it.”
“Y'know, it kinda hurt hearin’ ya say you’d rather fight any of those other losers I beat for this strap.”
“D’ya really think any of ‘em would have allowed a grubby, graspin' fool like Brandon Hendrix to challenge for a shot at this belt? Don’t kid yourself, boy. Only Billy is nice enough to give ya that kinda opportunity.”
“I think I know why ya said all that though, why you’d wanna fight one of the other three instead of li’l ol’ me.”
“‘Cause ya know Emmy, or Hunter, or Havoc, would give ya a wrestlin’ match. Even the Nightmare Tyrant wouldn’t be as rough on ya as I plan on bein’; he’d probably take some care to leave ya with a bit of that inflated ego intact.”
“Not me though.”
“I’m gonna be aimin' to embarrass ya, fella.”
“It ain’t even nothin’ personal; to be honest, I was more than a bit disappointed when I realized I'd be stuck in this match against ya. I expected a challenger with a bit more substance to step up.”
“Swindle Shelldrake, someone who can get down to my level and gimme a real dirty fight.”
“MYOJIN, the longest reigning Champion in the company, and maybe the best pure athlete we got.”
“Henry Lee Hyde, the monster who elevated the Gatekeeper belt higher than anybody could’ve ever thought possible.”
“Casanova English, a killer who knows as well as I do that all these ‘civilized’ people are just fuckin’ animals under the surface.”
“Just a few names on a long list of worthy adversaries in Project: Honor. After all, this place has the strongest and best in the business.”
“But I get stuck with Brandon Hendrix. It really ain’t fair to someone who's lookin' for a real challenge; good thing I set the rules that I did, ‘cause there ain’t no way you’d be able to last long enough to satisfy me without ‘em. I wager that you’ll be tappin’ out in the first five minutes.”
“Hate havin’ my time wasted with an easy hunt; nothin’ like a bit of a struggle to make a meal taste better.”
“Anyway, there’s a silver linin’ in all this. Wanna hear it? Might interest ya.”
“Y’see, I get to make an example outta ya. I can use ya to show everyone else what happens when someone who ain’t got no place steppin’ up to Billy is dumb enough to actually try me.”
“I’ve always wondered, what’s it feel like to stumble right into a fuckin’ trap? I’m just curious.”
“I ain’t even tryin’ to run ya down, Brandon, but I’m at a loss here. What made ya think ya were up for this? Shit, it’s just your bad luck that I won the Legacy Championship; anyone else woulda laughed ya off as a joke, after ya took to the ‘net whinin’ for a chance ya ain't come close to earnin' yet.”
“But now you’re stuck, no backin’ out now without lookin’ like a punk. I’m sure ya even think ya got a chance of walkin’ outta this with your head held high and your arms raised in victory.”
“I just want ya to be prepared for when that don’t happen. For when I send ya slinkin’ back to Indy Darlin’ with your tail between your legs and your hat in hand, beggin’ for your old spot back after makin’ Provin’ Ground look like the laughin' stock that it is.”
“This belt belongs to Fallout. I ain’t gonna be droppin’ it to nobody from the kiddie brand, that’s for damn sure.”
“All that said, you’re a brave man, and ya deserve credit. The first to raise their hand when everyone else hesitated to take the bait. Bet ya were rarin’ to go the moment I put out the call; and I commend ya for that.”
“Lotta people in your position, with your record and ability, wouldn’t dare to set foot in a ring with Billy.”
“So, that leaves one big question; what makes ya think you’re ready to tangle with me?”
“Beatin’ the Raven don’t impress me as much as ya might hope. That woman was injured, washed-up, with one foot already in the retirement home. Ya think ya would’ve had a hope in hell of winnin’ that match if she was in anythin' approachin' top form?”
“Please, spare me the attempts at comedy. Ain't a good look for ya.”
“I ain’t Elena. Things have changed since her day; I don’t think she would have a chance of reachin’ the heights she did, if she were up against the likes of me.”
“Shit, even Levy pushed ya so hard that ya landed in the hospital with a li’l ‘health scare’. If a clown like that can take ya to death’s door, I’m honestly worried ‘bout what’ll happen to ya when we start to throw down.”
“I mean, I ain’t really. Ya made your choice, and ya gotta live with whatever happens next. Don’t wanna hear ya moanin’ ’bout nothin’ after I’m done with ya. Just pick up the shattered pieces of your pride, and get your ass back to the blue brand to lick your wounds.”
“All them muscles ain’t gonna be no help in this match.”
“Any other time, ya coulda got lucky; maybe took my head off with those giant fists of yours, before pinnin’ me and comin’ through with a big ol’ win against the baddest bitch in this company.”
“Bet that’d be a real feel-good moment for the heroic underdog, wouldn’t it?”
“Too bad whatever advantages ya got don’t mean shit when submissions are all that matter. I seriously doubt some big, slow ox is gonna be able to get a good grip on a slippery, squirmin' snake .”
“But me? Well, makin’ overconfident motherfuckers scream and beg is kinda my thing, y’know? It's what gets me outta bed every mornin’.”
“I got ya for thirty whole minutes, pal; and ya can believe that I’m gonna make full use of every second. Really make ya squeal, for all your fans to hear.”
“I’ll expose ya as the fraud ya are; someone whose head got a li’l too big after a couple of lucky victories, and got punished for it.”
“A tale as old as time. Flyin’ too close to the sun, when you’re better suited crawlin’ in shit with the rest of the maggots.”
“Ya ain’t on my level; not yet, at least. Maybe not ever. Some gaps are just to wide to cross, some mountains too high to scale, some distances too great to travel.”
“Y’see, might be that Brandon Hendrix just don’t got what it takes. No heart for this game. Just not built like the top dogs.”
“I hate to break it to ya, but ya ain’t winnin’ this match; best ya can hope for is a prestige bump from bein’ in the ring with the Legacy Champion.”
“It’s kinda funny when ya think ‘bout it. If ya look close enough, ya might be able to see the hand of fate in all this. I became Champion just in time for an event called 'Public Execution', and my first open challenge snagged me the perfect victim.”
“I’m gonna make sure the show lives up to its name.”
“Cant think of nobody better to set the tone for my reign. Someone who’s been lookin’ stronger lately. A man on the rise, beloved by the fans and the boys backstage.”
“Crushed under my foot, for everyone to see.”
"Just to show 'em that I ain't got no sympathy; not a merciful bone in my entire fuckin' body. That if they're gonna step into the ring with Billy, they best be prepared."
“I’ll leave ya with one last piece of advice: this is your chance to prove me and everyone else wrong. To show that ya really do belong with the apex predators, that ya deserve a shiny gold belt, that ya ain’t just someone who don't know his place.”
“Bring your A-game, Brandon. ‘Cause if I catch ya lackin', this really is gonna be a public execution; and your pride, your career, maybe even your life are gonna be left in that ring, beyond savin’.”
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