Intriguing Little Mind-Fuck
Courtesy of the Mistress of Darkness


The Mistress of Darkness paced, cell phone practically glued to her ear. The expression on her face was that of someone who was not at all impressed. Her painted black toes curled into the shag carpet as she moved out of the bedroom and into the living room area. Her lips curled back over her pearly whites in a frustrated sneer. She growled a bit to herself, her brow furrowing, eyebrows knitting together. Her sapphire orbs glowed softly as she stood there, fingers curled hard around her phone. “Look. I’m busy. I can’t talk now. No. I can’t. Not right now! I’ll fuckin’ get to it! Jesus.” She said, agitatedly, hoping that the person on the other end of the line got the point.

He didn’t, so she snapped the phone closed and was tossed onto the couch of her hotel room. She paced the floor, hands curled around each other, fingers tapping against the top of her hands. And just what was she busy with? Her scheme. Simple as that. She slumped down onto the couch and leaned forward, tapping an email. She was replying to an email that stated: ‘Get A to get to S.’ Her reply: ‘Bugger off. I know what I’m doing.’ She clicked the send button and leaned back into the couch. She half-expected a reply that told her she was fired, or that she would never work in this town again, but hey… that’s the way the cookie gets eaten… or something like that.

It had been a long day, and as she looked at the clock, she couldn’t believe it was only eleven AM. She’d done so much already. Christmas shopping… ugghh…

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Earlier That Day…

Gwenivere had gone to the mall. And with only seven days until that all-holy, shopping-frenzy day of Christmas Eve, people were wild. She was shopping for her brothers, her father and her girls from the T.W.N.A. Hell, she’d buy something for herself. It was obviously going to be something big, fast and just over-all awesome to look at. But she would put herself last. She had way too much work to do before she decided to spoil herself. She pulled the Orange County Chopper toque a bit down more, hiding her deep blue eyes. She tugged her trench coat around herself, buttoning the waist-high button of her coat. She got a few odd looks, but that was to be expected. They were, after all, senior citizens that gazed hatefully at her piercings and clothing while crossing themselves. Even to people who had know idea who she was, she was the Mistress of Darkness: enveloped in evil and filled with hatred and loathing for all human kind. She was the bringer of Atrociousness and the lover of Pain. And people knew it too.

If you ever watched a crowd, you’d see this: the women move to the side of the men as they walk by. She didn’t know why, but she assumed it was something with chemical levels and the passiveness of females. However, as she walked; men, women, young, old, child, senior… all moved out of her path. She felt eyes upon her back, both of an attractive nature and that of hateful. It was hard to decipher, so she didn’t even try. She just cast a look back, in the general direction of where she felt the eyes.

Gwenivere was in that god damned mall for nearly six hours. Most of her time was spent in the lines that snaked through the store from the front counter. Their debit machines were lagging horribly and the elderly drew as much attention and time as they could from the clerks. She pitied them, in a way. She had never had to deal with a lot of people like the cashiers had to every single day. Her social skills just weren’t adapted so social situations. She just… all around avoided them. When she could.

As demonstrated when she was walking to the south exit of the mall to get to her car, she was forced into social interaction. She had numerous amounts of bags with her, clutched in one hand, her keys in the other. As she walked through one of the massive department stores that didn’t interest her in the slightest, a man walked by her quickly. He bumped into her arm and quickly grabbed for her bags. She shouted curses at him, glaring at him as she kept a death-lock on her bags. She managed to pocket her keys before taking a swift step forward and sending her knee into his groin. He let go of the bags and Gwenivere dropped them. He tried to run, but she wasn’t having anything of it. She quickly grabbed the back of his neck and put him into a full-nelson. Her lips went against his ear as she held him there, him falling on her knees.

“Y’know… it’s fucking Christmas… and what are you doing? Stealing. Do you have any idea how sad that is? Why don’t you go and get a fucking job like the rest of us? I may hate Christmas with a passion, but you’re ruining it for the people who love it. I hope you rot in Hell.” She growled into his ear before biting it swiftly. She bent her body to the side, managing to heave him from the ground and send him flying into a large table that was filled with colognes and perfumes. By now, she had drawn the attention of just about everyone in the store. The thief groaned before rolling onto his side and moving up onto his hands and knees. Gwenivere quickly crossed the floor and put her foot on his back, sending him back down, flat on his stomach. She looked up to one of the clerks, raising her eyebrow. “Well? Call security, damnit!” She shouted, fisting her hands on her hips. The thief remained there as she moved away, organizing her bags. She pulled off her sunglasses and stuffed her toque into her pocket. She smoothed back her hair before picking up her bags and walking out of the store.

But, oh no… it didn’t end there. She had gone into the parking lot and was just opening the trunk of her sleek, black sports car. As she was organizing her bags so that nothing was broken, a rather loud-mouthed woman in a minivan began to honk and shout at her to move. She looked to the minivan, raising her eyebrow softly. She noted that there were at least three children in the car. Meanwhile, this woman was swearing and cussing every single word that Gwenivere knew in English. She shook her head softly before slipping into the driver’s side of her car. Quickly, she revved the engine, her metal music starting. She backed out, rolling down her window. She lit a cigarette, gave the mother of the minivan a choice finger before zooming out of the parking lot and into the street.
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Now…

She sat back in the couch, fingers sinking into the front pockets of her jeans. The bags that she had bought now sat upon the floor beside her, leaning up against the sofa. She glanced down at them and sighed. Her hands lifted and rubbed her face. A soft sigh passed her lips. Her mind switched gears rapidly, turning towards the matter at hand: her career. Each person in that god damned, suicidal battle royal was on her list. No, not like Santa Claus’ list. Oh no… her hit list. She could count them down, now, if she pleased…

Acrophobia
Where to I begin? He cost me a match last week at Breakout. Then he has the audacity to blame it on me? I think not. I’m sorry, Acro… but who is the one that tapped? Yeah… that’s what I thought. If you had half the brain you insist you have, you would have known that you should have clawed your way to the ropes and grabbed them. Some wrestler you are.

Aurora Steele.
A strong specimen of a female wrestler. I’ve fought you before, and due to the idiocy of my tag partner, I lost to you. It will not happen again. I assure you.

Brian Adkins.
I suggest you attend Wrestling 101 and learn how to fight.

Chris Philips.
I’ve never seen you before. And I probably won’t know who you are when I fight you, and win.

Da Man.
Ha. My debut match, I fought you. I pinned you. I guarantee that you will have a strange sense of déjà vu come Legacy.

David Strife.
You call me a bitch? Why? Do you even know me? Yes, I am a bitch. But I can hold my own against you or any other man in the wrestling world. In fact, I challenge you to come into that ring at Legacy and try to put me down to the mat. Just, try.

Evalynn Eidolon.
Who the fuck are you? A greenhorn? Welcome to N.E.W. and the Battle Royal. I will break your career.

Explode.
I’ve never met you, nor have I fought you. You seem to prove yourself well in the ring, but I shall prove to you why I am the Mistress of Darkness.

And finally… The Vine…
Welcome to real life, babe. You may be the only one, other than Explode that will give me much trouble in the ring. However, I won’t let you survive. I will be the one to go on and face Nikita and Pete Ebdon.

Speaking of which… Nikita and Pete Ebdon.
I hope that I will have the privilege of stepping into the ring with you two. Nikita, I’ve fought you already and lost… miserably, though it is of no fault to my own. Ebdon, I believe we spoke briefly at the Christmas party. Good times. Too bad they won’t last.


Gwenivere slumped down off of the couch, crossing her legs beneath the coffee table in front of her. She lit one of her cigarettes, and pulled out the first box in her shopping bags. She slowly peeled off the price tag and dove into another bag to retrieve tape, wrapping paper and scissors.

“Life it seems, will fade away…
Drifting further every day…
Getting lost within myself…
Nothing matters no one else…
I have lost the will to live…
Simply nothing more to give…
There is nothing more for me…
Need the end to set me free…”