Five..
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Showtime!
The flickering film reel aesthetic was burned from the inside out to reveal a bored looking Mary “Mortuary” Addams lounged back in a leather chair, watching “tape” of her opponents on an old projector reel like it was the late eighties. Fingers dipped down, picking up a piece of the deer jerky she had in a glass bowl in her lap. She’d killed that deer herself, she’d field dressed it, she’d butchered the corpse, she’d tanned the hide using the brain, and she was the one who put the bones in her tank full of beetles so they ate the discards until those bones were clean.
The antlers of that stag were up on the wall now, the hide was on the floor beneath her overstuffed leather chair, and the meat was currently bein’ chewed on by her pearly whites as her eyes lingered on the screen.
A close up, her teeth ripped the smoked meat apart, chewed, and swallowed.
“My daddy was a man who taught his children more so by being a warning than any kind of example. He was really good at bringing torment, but he was one hell of a hunter in the same breath. Didn’t do it legally mind you, but he was still one through and through.” She looked down at her fingers, sucklin’ her index an’ thumb clean before finally looking back up at the screen as the camera caught her from the side. “He was good at hurting things, hunting them, killing them, take your pick and if it involved something that turned the stomach of a normal, well adjusted, person? He had a hand in it.”
She sucked her teeth and lifted the bowl from her lap and sat it aside, crossin’ her legs at the thigh after; hands found their place on the arms of her chair. Not once did she look away from the screen.
“He made it a point to know about your prey, four legs or on two, you needed to know what you were getting into. Makes sense, Sun Tzu said the same thing about knowing yourself and your enemies a few thousand years ago, not that the old man ever read Sun Tzu.”
She looked over at the camera for a moment, and then looked back to the projector. First off? It was Cyrus, watching the man’s last match against the Supernova, a frown pulling across her full lips. “This one, he doesn’t even consider me a threat. He’s happy to glibly go on about how he’s the modern day warlord, and maybe he was. Maybe he used this place like his stomping ground, tearing his lessers apart. He certainly did a number on the Supernova, didn’t he? Another man who thinks that he can just gloss over me like I’m not there.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Cyrus is short sighted, he doesn’t see the bigger picture, he just sees what’s in front of him. If he was really that much of a Warlord, he’d have his metaphorical crown here by now, no? He doesn’t. In fact, he’s getting the same opportunity that I am, and I’ve only had one match here. All of that bluster, and here we are with the same opportunity. The only difference is? I see the chessboard for what it is, and I can acknowledge the pieces that are to be set in motion. Sure, Cyrus is a threat when he's in motion but even long reaching rooks can be taken by a pawn if they’re not careful, and despite all of his ability and skill, Cyrus isn’t a cautious man.”
Grunt.
“Why would he be? He thinks he has this won, to the point where he can rattle on about Destiny until his voice is hoarse and his throat is raw. Good. Let him. I’ll show him the extent of what his destiny is when I take him apart at the seams. I’m going to see what the Warlord has deep inside of him when I reach in and pull it out of him, when I take him to places that he hasn’t been, to discover just what kind of a man he is.” It was a sentiment she espoused frequently, she knew, to see what kind of a person someone really was.
“It’s okay Cyrus; there’s going to be plenty of time to talk once I’ve got my hands on you, and we’re going to talk until you never want to utter another sound. You’re a Warlord? I’m the Queen that’s going to break you down until you bend the knee and serve in silence.”
She clicked her tongue against her teeth, exposing them in a full smile.
“Of course, The Supernova isn’t much better is he?” The screen shifted to Uiriamu’s highlight reels, showcasing his style just like it had before with Cyrus. “Another one who forgot most of his opponents just to focus on Cyrus. A tale of vengeance that’s going to end up with him flat on his back, with that undeniable glow snuffed out. This is an elevation elimination match; a climb to the top for survival and The Supernova doesn’t have strong enough lungs to handle the thin air at the top, that’s if he’s even capable of making the climb. He wants to address Cyrus, and Nobi, and El Landerson but the rest of us are just chopped liver.”
She leaned in, elbows on knees, and just shook her head before lifting a hand and pressin’ her index and middle finger to her temple.
“You fucked up, Uiri. You fucked up in the same way that the man you’re chasing fucked up. Too short sighted, eyes everywhere but the one place you needed to be most. For that, I’m going to punish you in ways that not even Cyrus– or Cypress did. Supernovas burn twice as hot, and they burn out twice as fast. I’ll leave you a black hole in the end, an empty, hungry, void just like me. I’ll show you all the delights that come with being something that can never sate its hunger, or slake its thirst. I’m not going to teach you how to let go, Uiri. I’m going to leave you hollow inside so you can fill yourself with a new obsession. I’m excited to see what this match changes you into. I'll teach what it's like to sink your fingers into something on a level that they can never shake you."
Her hand dropped, both of her murder mittens hangin’ loose between her knees.
“Know what I’m not excited for? El Landerson; the fucking worst Luchador in existence. The guy who does nothing but pop off with nonsense, talking about how he’s gonna win because he needs the win?” She leaned back, letting her hands slide back up to the arms of her chair, her legs recrossing at the thighs.
“He needs the win. Sure, everyone in the ring needs the win. I don’t care about the win. I want blood, El Landerson. I want to find an opponent worth destroying, an opponent that can destroy me. You? You’re neither of those. You’re just a highly resistible force that’s going to break against this immovable object, and I’m leave you broken in that ring because while you’re a shining reminder that every dog gets its day? I’m here to remind the world that all dogs get put down in the end.”
A sigh. A slow sigh, letting her body shift and then settle back into the comfort of her chair as the next reel popped up: Nobi.
“The White Knight, with shining armor. Shining armor that’s never been tested, which is why it’s shining. A man who’s been allowed to slip by, coasting on mediocrity. He’s a walking embodiment of Family Guy; sure, he was funny at first, but now we’re all just waiting for the thing to peter out and find an ending. I don’t know why he’s even here. He was beat by the man that I beat my first match on the scene.”
She reached a hand up and turned the projector off, mid reel. She’d seen enough, and she had no further want to watch any more of the match footage.
“That leaves one more, doesn’t it? Jayce Carver. Suspiciously quiet and it breaks my heart. Still, what can I say about you that I haven’t already?” Her shoulders lifted and dropped. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll see the measure of you in the ring. We’ll see what you’ve learned, what you still have to offer the gods of war when I serve you up as a sacrifice to them at the Elevation Elimination.”
Pausing, for just a moment, she reached for a piece of jerky and popped it into her mouth; she took her time chewing, only to swallow soon after. It was tasty.
“None of you can beat James Christ, much less beat someone who might beat him. I’m the only one in this line up that has a chance of taking that Prodigy Title. I don’t intend on losing. Y’all made the choice to doubt me, to treat me as a footnote because of .. whatever reasons. My inexperience in the pro leagues, the fact that none of you have heard about me before now. I’m not forgiving you for that. It’s as I said before, I’m a Punishment from God. You’ve all committed great sins, and because of that I’m going to leave marks on your soul that you can’t just wash off. There's no indulgences to buy that are going to absolve you of what you've done; and the only thing that can wash it all away is the pain that I'm going to bring you, to change you with until I've unmade you all and reshaped the remains into what truly laid beneath your skin.”
She smiled. She had too many teeth in that smile, and that smile was almost too big for her face, a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. The camera faded to black, but the last thing to leave that screen were those ivory teeth, surrounded by those full lips that were painted black.
Yesterday at 2:43 pm by 
Subject: Hunting grounds. -- Standing Room Only 2. 
