The Past Returns

(Dark skies dominate an unremarkable night in Rome. The clouds are thin and barely visible. The moon does little to help with illumination as a woman steps out of a door and shuts it quietly behind her. Her name is Vivian Tate. She's the best friend, and agent, of Summer Ashton. Her black hair is shoulder length and perfect. The perfection matches that of her purple skirt-suit. Spotless with no wrinkles to be found. A folder rests under her arm as the clack of her heels against the ground fills the quiet, night air. She takes a deep breath as she fishes for her keys within her purse. After another night of dealing with her impossible friend/client the air does her good. It's as she inserts the key into the lock of her car that she notices a reflection in her window. She struggles to find the words, but only finds one.)

Vivian: You.

(It's the last word she speaks before the world around her contorts to darkness. Within the hazy abyss of unconsciousness she can hear the plunk of water dropping slowly into water. A dull throb can be felt somewhere. Painful and persistent. A sharp pain snaps her mind out of the blackness it was in. The back of her head is wet with blood and her cheek stings. Slowly her eyes flutter open. The world is skewed and unrecognizable as her unconscious haze has refused to relinquish its hold on her vision. A blurry form stands in front of her. It speaks with a familiar, feminine voice.)

Woman: Good, you're awake. Not all there yet though eh?

(Vivian's face is struck again. Her vision clears slowly until it reveals her assailant. Long straight black hair covers much of a pale face. Even through it a thick series of scars can be seen covering most of the woman's forehead. White/blue eyes stare bitterly at her. It's now Vivian recognizes her fully.)

Vivian: Exa Cution?

(Exa's angry scowl warps into a disconcerting smile. Her eyes seem almost hollow. She gets within inches of Vivian's face.)

Exa Cution: It's so good to see you haven't forgotten the person you betrayed. I bet your buddy Holly Caust...or should I say Summer Ashton, pretends she doesn't remember my name. She's so predictable.

(Vivian shakes her head in reaction to the words. Her face serious and trying to restrain from looking pleading.)

Vivian: I didn't betray you. What are you talking about?

(Exa's smile drops immediately. Her voice going slightly raspy as she yells.)

Exa Cution: Didn't betray me? Didn't BETRAY ME?! You b*@ch! You did everything but do the dirty work yourself. You will pay. Oh how you'll pay, but not just yet.

(It's now Vivian realizes she won't be talking her way out of this. Her former teammate is too far gone. Having her skull cracked open has changed her into something unrecognizable. It's times like this that backing one of Summer's plays is not the best of ideas. Like Vivian was gonna jump in the way when Summer had snapped and bashed this chick's head in. Exa steps back and rubs her own scarred forehead for a long moment. Her eyes wince slightly as a migraine comes on. Her hands shake. Vivian's mouth moves to say something, but Exa raises a finger and whispers.)

Exa Cution: Don't speak.

(The intense pain pushing in her head brings her to a knee. Breathing heavily she reaches in her pocket and pulls out a pill bottle. She fumbles with the lid, spilling some of the pills on the dirty ground. Her hand frantically pushes them around on the floor till she can grab a few and put them in her mouth. Rather than swallow them she chews them. The chalky, bitter taste filling her mouth. A strange whimper escapes her lips as her whole body begins to shake. After a long moment it passes and she is slowly able to rise to her feet. Her eyes are a watery mess with mascara running down her cheeks. She laughs breathily in a desperate manner. It's as if she's trying to hold tears and insanity within her.)

Exa Cution: What you just saw is the result of Summer's actions. Do you realize what she did to me?

(She smacks her own fist against her forehead and a metallic thunk is heard.)

Exa Cution: The forehead is the hardest bone in the body and your little friend managed to fracture it in several spots. I had chunks of bone sticking through my forehead. The doctors had to put a metal plate in. I will have these migraines for the rest of my life. Because of that I'm addicted to these pain pills. They're the only thing that controls what you just saw. All because of you and Summer. The two of you are going to feel the pain I do. You're going to suffer and you're going to die. It won't bring back who I once was, but it will make who I am now feel better.


(Another evening at the Ashton residence or some sort of bs narrative like that. Vivian was over earlier tonight bugging me about some other stupid thing I don't want to do. I'm starting to regret having hired her as my agent. All she does is try to push me into stuff. It always bites you in the *ss to help a friend out. Currently my nostrils are burning. Not because of the cigarette I'm smoking, but rather due to the goop in my hair. I grew tired of my fake hair color and decided to return to my natural, red color. That's what I'll have if this dye doesn't screw me over. The reason I went to blonde in the first place was I wanted to put myself in a new direction after the roller derby fiasco. I felt a physical change would help in putting my past behind me. I don't think it really did though.

I exhale and ash out my cigarette before taking another swig of tequila. It's probably would have been for the best had I got a week off from wrestling. The last few weeks my body has been really battered. I've still got bruises that have refused to heal. I could have had the week off from a major show like most people, but I ended up signing up for that match in WAM. We'll see how that ends up going when I get there. I'm not gonna worry about it now. The pain I have will fade into the background once I step out onto the entrance ramp. Has it been 45 minutes yet? It takes forever for this stuff to work. You know what, screw it. I stand up and walk back to the bathroom. I'm gonna wash this goop out and call it close enough to 45 minutes. This has got to be close enough to my natual color.

I turn the water on in the shower and strip down before stepping in and washing this crap out. Wrestling ended up being better than I thought. I hate the word, but I love that it allows me to legally hurt people. No assault charges here for what I do. No being banned for it. The only downside is the downtime between fights. Of course that's what alcohol and cigarettes were made for.)