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Viewed
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Harsh Reality
Harsh Reality
Siberian Wrestling Facilities
Lockdown 38
Stars and lights. That’s all Cecile could see as she struggled to regain her vision; her state the result of taking a brutal diamond cutter from Hannibal Cage. She drifted in and out, muttering angry things as Lockdown went off air and the crowd began to disperse. Little did she realize her body was being carried to the hospital wing of SW’s facilities on a stretcher as she did this. Her hotly contested reign over Siberian Wrestling’s population had come to an end in one fell swoop, all thanks to one man. When she came to she felt the sting of embarrassment immediately quickly followed by a dash of guilt. She’d let her tag team partner of the night, Ryan Ruckus, down. That was worse in her mind than actually losing the match.
Doctor Sven Shultz hovered over her as she lay back on the bed-- shone a light in her eyes, asked her if she could see how many fingers he was holding up. “You might have a concussion, you need to stay awake,” he informed her in a gruff voice and removed the large blinding light from above her.
“I don’t care.” Cecile scrubbed her eyes.
“You won’t say that if we have to rush you to a real hospital in the middle of all that snow and coldness. It’s hell out there,” he insisted. “I shouldn’t have to remind you of that.”
“I don’t care,” she repeated herself and slowly sat forward. Sven watched as she did so, the large brown mousy eyes behind his thick glasses giving her a questioning glance. He wondered if it’d be worth it to try and lay her back down on the bed. Probably not.
Sven finally sighed. “What, are you embarrassed about losing your match?”
“I’m competitive, but losing isn’t what makes me angry.”
“What then? Thought you’d leave a match in Siberian Wrestling without a scratch?” he inquired sarcastically.
“It’s him,” Cecile interrupted and gave the doctor an angry glare. “I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone in my life. But him? I’d make an exception for him.”
“Hate is such a strong emotion. I assume you mean Hannibal Cage, correct?”
“Bingo.”
Sven smirked. “He’s good at what he does then. Better than the rest.”
“What the hell did he come to Siberian Wrestling for anyway? Why’d he have to show up now? I‘m leaving to go on probation in a few weeks.”
“I suppose for what every other man like him wants-- control, power, prestige. But Cecile, it isn’t like you to be afraid of someone.”
“I’m not afraid Sven. I’m angry. Big difference. The thing is, I don’t know if I can actually beat Hannibal Cage.”
“You admit that?”
She nodded. “There’s a lot of people I can’t beat. My opponent for the Invitational might be one of them. But what do you do when someone who knows they can grind you into meat decides to make you a target?”
Sven chuckled briefly as he sat down in a chair near his desk. “Cecile, I imagine that’s what most of your opponents feel. Welcome to reality.”
+++++
“Reality, huh?” Cecile pondered the doctor’s words as she lay in her own cell, staring up at the grayish ceiling as she lay on the cold hard floor. Gone was Hannibal Cage from her mind, if only momentarily. He had another woman to terrorize and abuse this week. The unfortunate Georgie Nickles. She had her own share of problems in the form of Katherine Stryfe. She’d been allowed to review tapes of Katherine, to analyze and study the woman’s every move since their match had been announced.
She liked what she saw. Katherine was a strong woman. A vicious fighter. A talented wrestler. Stryfe reminded her of herself in many ways. “A beautiful nightmare,” Cecile muttered as she continued to stare into the nothingness of the ceiling. Her thoughts were interrupted by the familiar sound of her cell door being opened.
In stepped Siberian Wrestling’s owner, The Warden, with two guards following closely behind. “Cecile.” He nodded his head at her.
Cecile reluctantly rose to her feet. “To what do I owe the honor, huh? Come to brag and boast and embarrass me too?”
“Although the board has decided to release you on parole against my wishes, you will still be expected to perform your best at the Experts Invitational,” he told her in his usual stiff voice.
Cecile made a noise. “You think I’d throw the match because I’m getting out soon? You really think I‘m that type of person?”
The Warden narrowed his eyes. “No, I don’t. However, it needed to be said.”
“You won’t have to worry about me.”
The Warden turned on his heels and stopped when he reached the door. “There’s a good possibility you’ll be facing Hannibal Cage sometime before you leave.”
Cecile smirked. “I’m looking forward to it.”
+++++
Alameda County Corrections
Hayward, California
“Miss Lecrux,” Deputy Sheriff George Smith addressed Cecile as she sat in a chair in his office, guards by the door, her arms in cuffs behind her back. “I imagine you’ve never been to California before, or am I wrong?”
“You’d be correct, actually. I hate perpetually sunny places and the people that inhabit them,” Cecile responded curtly. Fresh off the helicopter, two planes, and the Trans-Siberian she was in no mood to be hassled by the locals in Hayward. She was there for one reason and one reason only; to face Katherine Stryfe. Clad in a bright orange jumpsuit, she sat back in the uncomfortable chair she’d been placed in and scowled.
The Sheriff frowned at her answer. “Sarcasm won’t get you far in this part of town missy, so I suggest you work on being a little nicer to folks around here.”
“Is that a threat?” Cecile asked and corked an eyebrow as she did so. The guards tensed up.
The Sheriff gave her a sharky grin. “You’d know if it was. We have a lengthy set of rules to follow in this prison, and I expect you to follow them exactly. If you break any rules, or laws, for that matter,” he added with another grin, “it will be held against you in a court of law, if you get what I’m saying. I don‘t know how they do it in Russia, but we just don‘t let shit slide around here. Got it?”
“Are we done here, Sheriff?” Sophie Lecrux, Cecile’s sister and manager, asked in a sugary even tone, though the anger on her face betrayed her. “We’ve all had a long ride and we’d like to get some rest.” She brightly smiled at the man and the effect was almost immediately. She was a beautiful woman after all, a cold Russian beauty with silky black hair and bright eyes. In a way she looked a lot like Cecile, in other ways, not so much.
“Yea, we are. Ma’am.” the Sheriff nodded his head at Sophie and smiled. He watched Sophie leave the room first and then frowned. The guards led Cecile to her tiny cell in the eastern wing of the facility with a single bed in one corner and a tiny television. Numerous tapes littered the floor near the television, as if they’d been unceremoniously dumped there. The guards kept the door to the cell open as they watched Sophie and her sister converse.
“What the hell is up with that Sheriff Asshole back there?” Cecile inquired in Russian, still angry with the exchange.
“He’s new, apparently. Don’t worry about it though. We’ll be leaving immediately after the Invitational.”
Cecile studied the tapes laying on the floor, gave her sister a suspicious glance. “All of these are Katherine Stryfe tapes?”
“Yes. I think one includes her performance at the last Experts tournament. She’s quite exceptional, you know.”
Cecile rolled her eyes. “Are you betting on her to win?”
“Knowing as unpredictable as you can be? No, I’m not betting on anything,” Sophie laughed. “Besides, you’re no cake walk yourself.”
Cecile sighed and picked at the jumpsuit she’d been placed in. Compared to what she wore at SW’s facilities, she wasn’t sure which was the lesser of the two evils. One of the guards tapped the bars to her cell and informed her sister she’d have to leave soon. Sophie nodded her head and gave Cecile a big hug. “See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, tomorrow.” Sophie released her sister and gave her a brief kiss on the cheek. “Kick some ass, okay?”
Cecile smirked as she watched her leave the cell. “That’s kind of the idea.” The guards locked the cell behind Sophie. Cecile sat alone in her cell for awhile before glancing back over at the tapes. She sluggishly moved to the tiny television and sat on the floor with the videos, reading each title with an almost serene like look on her face.
“Nightmare Inc.,” she read the title on the thin white strip out loud and grinned to herself. “How catching.”
+++++
Experts Hayward Warehouse
/beautiful nightmare.mpg
The feed from the camera picked up with Cecile as she walked towards the center of the warehouse that housed all of the Experts events. The ring had been set up along with the seats, but was completely void of any other signs of life, save for Cecile herself and the guards that stood watch at the door. She approached the make shift ramp, the area where a majority of the wrestlers would enter to head towards the ring and a small smirk crossed her lips. The last time she’d been in this warehouse she was a participant of the Extreme Tournament. In her mind, that had been one of the best nights of her career. She didn’t win her match, but she’d shown the world what she could do.
She thought back to that night, the very first time she’d seen what Hannibal Cage could do as he relentlessly tossed her over that top rope to claim his victory, and the smirk that had previously been there was wiped away. Victory wasn’t the key to her happiness, but what a difference being the last surviving participant in that match was compared to being second to last. Hannibal was facing Georgie for the Experts Championship. She was not. She shook her head as she left the ramp and navigated her way through the seats until she was at ringside. Light spilled in through the busted doors of the warehouse, beaming small patches of sun on certain spots in the ring.
“Hours,” she began as she lifted her hand up and felt the dusty bottom rope. “In literally hours, I will be facing one of the most credible opponents I have ever faced since becoming a professional wrestler two years ago. It is hard to believe I’ve spent one of those behind prison bars, but I suppose, I could have done worse,” she joked sarcastically. There was a vacuumed pause where she looked at her fingers and blew away the dust that had accumulated. Then she began to speak again.
“Participating in the Experts Extreme Tournament was a real eye opener for me. I was face to face with some of the best the business had to offer. The only difference between now and then was that there was so many people to keep track of it was hard to discern faces after tossing so many over these ropes,” she admitted. “Tomorrow, I’ll only have one person to worry about though. Katherine Stryfe, The Beautiful Nightmare. I have studied her carefully, but I‘m not stupid. I know that alone isn’t enough. It usually works that way though, doesn’t it? All the preparing in the world can’t get you ready for the real thing, and reality, is going to play a huge factor in our match at the Invitational.” She walked slowly around the ring and the camera was front of her recording as she walked.
“For instance,” she started as she entered one of the patches of light that spilled in through the busted warehouse doors. “In reality, I’m a convicted Russian felon. A dangerous human being. A bad, bad person. The only family I have is a sister that robs people blind. Make no mistake about it though, at the end of the day, I am also a trained professional wrestler. I happen to be very good at what I do. I have a belt that says as much, but let’s put that aside. Never mind that I’ve been dominating the roster of Siberian Wrestling for a majority of the past year. Never mind that I’ve managed to do something no other woman has done, or probably will be able to do. Because in reality, something like that doesn’t matter. Not when it comes to this.”
She passed through the light and entered the dimness again. “What does matter is that regardless of my previous convictions, I am someone who will fight to my very last breath. I never turn down a challenge, nor do I shy away from something others perceive as difficult. My thing is, you’ll never know how you’ll do until you actually get out there and put yourself on the line. That’s what I called myself doing by accepting the invitational for this event; taking a chance. I had no idea who I’d face. It didn’t matter. As long as it was someone who’d fight just as hard as I would, it would be fine. To say that I’m happy with my opponent would be a hypocritical conflicting statement, but in one way, it is absolutely true.”
“I’m not afraid of the dark, Katherine,” she revealed with a sinister smile. “I’m not intimidated by stepping in the ring with a superior athlete either. Basically, once the bell rings, anything goes in my book including the taboo, the risqué, the flat out grotesque. I think what I truly want to know though-- what everyone wants to know-- is how you’re going to do against me Katherine. You see, I don’t think they make them like me too often, and I’m insanely curious, literally dripping with enthusiasm, to see your reaction to realizing you were facing yours truly, Cecile Lecrux. So, humor me.”
“I know, I know. I’m not a big deal,” she snidely admitted as she turned the corner of the ring. “My ego isn’t so big that I’d think it would matter to you, either. You probably looked at the letter and gave yourself an internal shrug. ‘Cecile who’, I could picture you saying,” she mockingly said as she held out a piece of imaginary paper and then crossed her arms underneath her chest. “Cecile who, indeed. Even I’d be completely under whelmed with facing someone from Siberian Wrestling. It’d be like a sad, sad, joke. Inmates that wrestle each other in the snow around hungry wolves? What a bad gimmick. That’s what I thought before I actually put myself in that situation, before I walked in those cliché snow boots. There is nothing in this entire business quite as strenuous as being forced to face vicious felons week after week-- sick and twisted men that have raped and murdered people. It’s not the same as stepping in the ring with say, a sane individual who’s biggest issue is vanity or narcissism.”
“These men and women have hurt me psychologically and physically. But somehow, I’ve made it. I’ve survived a year of that bullshit, completely unscathed save for a few emotional scars,” she said and then took an opportunity to actually slide inside of the ring. The camera guy followed, the feed becoming disoriented momentarily until a walking Cecile was in its main focus once more. She walked to the opposite side of the ring and sat on the top turnbuckle so her eyes were directly on the camera.
“Some people would say I’m lucky. I can tell you now that simply wasn’t the case. I busted my ass like a work horse week after week, month after month, bruise after bruise. I’ll be free to leave on probation by the end of February, but to be honest, after all I’ve endured I’m not quite sure what I’ll do with myself. What I do know is that this Invitational is the best possible chance I’ve got of showing the entire world that SW is not a gimmick. It’s not a joke. It’s not a fucking game. It’s serious business. This match could be that platform for me to sell myself on as one of the best exports SW has ever seen. It’ll also be an opportunity for me to do something I love more than anything else in the world-- to hurt someone,” she admitted with a small grin.
“I won’t lie and say I was a perfect human being before entering SW, but my duration there has not made me Miss World material, either. My main focus at the Invitational will be doing something no one else has seemed to do, yet; to make the Beautiful Nightmare face the harsh reality of the truth. For as alike as we already are in statue and size Katherine, our personal agendas could not be any more different. You wrestle because you want to Katherine. I wrestle because I’m not interested in doing time behind bars in some old Siberian work camp akin to Auschwitz. I wrestle to survive. I think it’s obvious which is more important.”
The camera closed in as she continued to speak. “It’s not like I have anything left to lose, so I am going to take every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears I have in my body to get the job done. You can try to stop me. You can call me every name in the book. You can roll the footage of every last Lockdown from the time Siberian Wrestling came into existence and try to study my work. It won’t stop the inevitable.”
“Because in the end dear Katherine, when it’s all said and done, there won’t be any sweet dreams for either of us.” Cecile gave the camera one last menacing glare before the feed became filled with static and ultimately faded to blackness.
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