Post by Samantha Tolson on Nov 24, 2017 6:27:15 GMT -5
--OFF-Camera--
Anger.
Body-seizing, mind-numbing, soul-scorching anger.
It was all Samantha Tolson felt lately, especially where it came to thing in LAW.
Roxy Cotton had needed to commit attempted murder to beat her for the Chaos Championship, and who got the first shot at her? Not Samantha, the former champion, the woman with a guaranteed rematch clause in the contract. No, it went to, of all people, Kate Steele.
She’d been asked to use her rematch in a three-way dance with both Steele and Cotton for Night of Glory, but to her, that was patently unfair. No other former champion in the history of the company had ever been made to use their rematch inside the craziness of a multiple-person match. Why was it that Samantha should have to do what no one else had yet done, or had ever been asked to do, apparently? No, Lucas Dupree and Megan Helms-King were going to have to do better than that.
Samantha was adamant about that as well. She’d put her foot down, and now, instead of being able to have the contractual opportunity to regain the championship she’d created, forged, and brought to life...then forced the company to recognize…
...she was in the second match of the night, pitted against someone she considered a friend. Someone she didn’t want to have to hurt to make her point. Someone she cared about. Someone that would, in any other circumstance, be an opponent she’d be excited to face.
But the anger precluded all of that. The need to show Lucas Dupree the error of his ways, and Megan Helms-King the error of hers, burned in her blood like poison. The need to destroy someone, and show Roxy Cotton that when the rematch came, she was going to become just like her running mate, Kenzi Grey...a mere footnote in the history of the Chaos Championship...was nearly overwhelming.
To say that the anger consumed her would be understating it. By a long way.
So, here she was, at the behest of her mentor, wearing the large faceguard of a kendo player, looking through the mesh of the front of the head gear, holding a kendo stick in her hands. It made her feel alive and powerful, holding a weapon in her hands with full permission, not to mention the intention, to use it to best the young man standing across from her on the mat. To swing it and connect with his arms, his chest, or his ribcage and cause as much pure pain as she could muster.
She swung with ferocity with each pairing she was in, taking shots she didn’t need to take, but she wasn’t feeling them. Onward she pressed, screaming like a Banshee, taking great pleasure with every crack of the stick she made by whacking the opponent across from her. The sweat rolled from her forehead in waves, soaking her hair beneath the helmet and staining the cut-off t-shirt she wore from her neck all the way down almost to her waist.
All the while, an older Japanese man, wearing a blue kimono that offset his silver hair, leaned against his walking stick, watching intently every time he would issue the “begin” command in his native language. He watched as Samantha charged forward, and could feel the rage seething inside her with every attack. He sat silently, viewing her final battle of the day.
Samantha took her stance, kendo stick held in front of her, and began to charge in without thought to her opponent’s possible attack. She swung at her opponent’s head, but he leaned back, the tip of the stick whistling past his facemask, then deftly stepped forward and inside Samantha’s reach, cracking his stick on the hard top of her mask, but she didn’t stop, swinging blindly until her stick crackled and smacked him over and over, eventually forcing him off the mat.
Her opponent took off his mask, revealing an angry face beneath. “Stupid bitch! Get your shit under control!”
Samantha stood on the mat, slowly removing her mask with a sadistic grin on her face. The Japanese man noticed. “Day over. Everyone out...but you, Samantha.”
The old man stood slowly, then ambled his way to the edge of the mat, his face hardened against Samantha’s eerie grin, but his eyes almost crying at the same time. “You are filled with anger and rage.”
Samantha looked at him coldly. “Is that a question or a statement, Master Hiroki?”
“Statement. Can feel your anger from across the room. What troubles you, child?”
Samantha briefly bristled at being called a child, but answered as coolly as the first time. “A lot of things.”
“Ryan tells me you have lost a coveted championship lately. Is that the source of your rage?”
“Not losing the championship...those come and go...it’s more who I lost the championship to that angers me.”
“Why does this cause you to be so angry, Samantha?”
“Because…” Samantha took a deep breath. “...she’s a piece of shit, if I’m honest. She’s not worthy of holding up her own pants with a belt, much less holding a championship I fought and bled to not only create, but make my company see as a legitimate one.”
Hiroki stood, using his walking stick for balance, considering Samantha for a few pregnant moments. “So you take offense at not the prize won, but the warrior who bested you to win it.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“The anger is not good, Samantha. It drove you to lose focus here today, to be defeated in every match against every opponent. You must change this.”
“I can’t.”
“Cannot…” Hiroki looked at Samantha with knowing eyes. “...or will not?”
“Trust me, Master...it’s a lot more can’t than won’t.”
“Then sit with me, meditate, and we will work on the anger together. Better to use it as fuel for the fire, than to let a flame burn up the fuel before it can be used.”
Hiroki stepped up onto the mat, then sat down with his legs crossed, waiting for Samantha to do the same. She slowly dropped the kendo stick and her helmet, sitting down across from the Master. They sat there for nearly an hour, neither speaking, neither moving, their eyes closed as they meditated. Hiroki, for his part, looked calm and relaxed. But Samantha fairly vibrated as she sat there, thinking about little more than the slut walking around with her possession.
Hiroki could sense Samantha’s anger again. “This does not help you.”
“No, honestly, it doesn’t.“ Samantha stood up quickly, gathering her stick and helmet as she looked down at him.
“Samantha, you must find a way to rein in your rage. It may help you to hurt others, but the one you hurt most is yourself. Release your anger. Find what it is you need to do to let go of it.”
Samantha looked down on Hiroki sadly. “Problem is Master, I know I need to…”
“And?”
“...it won’t help a lick. Until I beat that woman within an inch of her life, until I’ve made her bleed and hurt and cry out in pain...well...let’s just say I can’t let anything go.”
Samantha bowed once deeply toward the Master, then turned on her heels and walked slowly toward the changing room. Hiroki watched her walk away, concerned for her well-being and state of mind. He knew that her anger burned white-hot, and had seen the same thing once in her mentor.
And with a long breath, he recalled where that had led him so long ago, hoping it did not do the same for her…
--ON-Camera--
“I wish I could make you understand. But it’s clear that I can’t. So just let me apologize in advance for what I have to do. I never would wish this on you. I never would willingly do this.”
“But what must be done, must be done.”
Samantha Tolson stands in her private gym, beating on her heavy bag with bare knuckles.
“I’m tired of being looked down upon. Tired of seeing my good name run through the ringers of LAW. They need a reminder of exactly who I am, and exactly what I am capable of doing.”
“I’m the woman who was given a challenge of taking a title left behind by its creator, and to fashion it into something special. And with blood, sweat, and a lot of effort, I did just that. I became a trailblazer, forcing this company into adding not just another championship to its rolls. Forcing LAW into adding an entirely new division to its ranks.”
“In short, I’m the bloodthirsty bitch to took LAW fucking hardcore.”
WHAP! WHAPWHAP! WHAP!
“And what thanks to I receive for that? What thanks to I get for having the second-longest championship reign in the history of the company?”
“I can’t even have a one on one rematch for the title I created. No, they wanted me to have some sort of big clusterfuck with Kate and Roxy and God only knows who else. Wanted me to burn up my guaranteed rematch in something no other champion in LAW has ever been asked to do. Wanted me to give up my chance to look that fucking silicone Barbie in her fucking eyes and see the fear behind them, knowing she was about to get her ass completely and utterly destroyed. They wanted me to give up my chance to beat that slut from pillar to post, all alone, and by the end of it all remind her that when it comes to fucking hardcore in LAW, the line starts and ends with me.”
WHAPWHAPWHAP!!! WHAP! WHAPWHAP!
“No, Stacy, I have to be in the second match on the show. Despite what I’ve done for this company, despite the money I’ve made them, the tickets I’ve sold for them, despite all the eyes I’ve put on their shows because of what I made, this match is my reward.”
“I have to step into the ring with a friend, needing to prove to the world once again that I am nothing more than a cold-blooded murderer in the ring.”
“So, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I don’t need your doctor’s number. I don’t need a fucking paid friend trying to get inside my head. What I need to do is kick someone’s ass properly and thoroughly, and unfortunately, they’ve put me in the ring with you.”
“I have to show Lucas Dupree and Megan Helms-King just how very badly they’ve insulted me. I have to show them just how badly I’m going to break one of their champions soon, one of the Cool Kids they’ve allowed to take over LAW with their bile and their vitriol, with their hate and their general stupidity.”
“Because make no mistake, I will get my rematch, and when I get it, I’m going to do my dead level best not to just beat Roxy Cotton, I’m going to do everything I can humanly do to do something humane for this company and eliminate her from this sport completely.”
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAPWHAP!
“I’m not stupid. I know she’ll laugh about it, but she can also take a fucking long walk off a short fucking cliff. Perhaps the blown-up Barbie boobs’ll save her stupid ass. But I have every intention of laying her in a hospital bed right next to Sarah Lacklan. And I want her to look up at me, and see me hold that belt aloft once again, and remember for eternity that while she might have beaten me once, beating me a second time did not, nor will it ever, happen again. I want her to know that she made the biggest life mistake she could ever make thinking she could get the better of me over the long term.”
“The sad thing is, Stacy, to do that, I need an example. I need something to point to to show her what she’s truly signed up for.”
“That’s where, so very unfortunately, you come in. Because I have no choice. I have no other alternative.”
“You’re going to have to be my example.”
“Now, normally, this would be the part where I’d usually tell a friend that I don’t want it to be this way, that I hate the fact that I have to do what I have to do...but honesty forces me to tell you that I’m not one damn bit sorry.”
“I am sorry that Dupree and Helms-King have seen fit to put you in this spot. I am sorry that they decided to throw you into the ring with me, after asking more of me than I should have to give, after insulting my contributions to their company and their bank accounts.”
“As to what I have to do though, there is no apology. There is no I’m sorry coming from my lips.”
WHAPWHAPWHAPWHAPWHAPWHAP!!!!!!
“I’m angry beyond belief. Angrier than I ever thought I could ever be. The constant rage building and building inside me has only one release point, and until then, is little more than a set of blinders. Because all I can see in front of me now is her. All I want in front of me now is the gutter whore who stole something of mine.”
“All you are to me right now, Stacy, when it comes to the ring, is someone directly between me and her. And I promise you, I’m going to blow right through you with as much malice and ferocity as I can bring forth, and I’ll continue to leave a path of destruction behind me until I get to her.”
“You mentioned blowing the roof off the Nassau Coliseum?”
“I don’t want to blow the roof off.”
“I wanna drive you straight down through the concrete floor. I wanna throw you like a fucking lawn dart, and stick you head first into the goddamn walls.”
“I’m coming to beat you down, Stacy. I’m coming to batter you, bust you up, break you if I have to...but I am going to beat you.”
“I’m coming, and Hell is coming right along with me.”
Samantha throws a rapid-fire flurry of punches into the bag, then looks at her knuckles, bruised and bloody.
“Just….well...don’t say I never warned you.”
Anger.
Body-seizing, mind-numbing, soul-scorching anger.
It was all Samantha Tolson felt lately, especially where it came to thing in LAW.
Roxy Cotton had needed to commit attempted murder to beat her for the Chaos Championship, and who got the first shot at her? Not Samantha, the former champion, the woman with a guaranteed rematch clause in the contract. No, it went to, of all people, Kate Steele.
She’d been asked to use her rematch in a three-way dance with both Steele and Cotton for Night of Glory, but to her, that was patently unfair. No other former champion in the history of the company had ever been made to use their rematch inside the craziness of a multiple-person match. Why was it that Samantha should have to do what no one else had yet done, or had ever been asked to do, apparently? No, Lucas Dupree and Megan Helms-King were going to have to do better than that.
Samantha was adamant about that as well. She’d put her foot down, and now, instead of being able to have the contractual opportunity to regain the championship she’d created, forged, and brought to life...then forced the company to recognize…
...she was in the second match of the night, pitted against someone she considered a friend. Someone she didn’t want to have to hurt to make her point. Someone she cared about. Someone that would, in any other circumstance, be an opponent she’d be excited to face.
But the anger precluded all of that. The need to show Lucas Dupree the error of his ways, and Megan Helms-King the error of hers, burned in her blood like poison. The need to destroy someone, and show Roxy Cotton that when the rematch came, she was going to become just like her running mate, Kenzi Grey...a mere footnote in the history of the Chaos Championship...was nearly overwhelming.
To say that the anger consumed her would be understating it. By a long way.
So, here she was, at the behest of her mentor, wearing the large faceguard of a kendo player, looking through the mesh of the front of the head gear, holding a kendo stick in her hands. It made her feel alive and powerful, holding a weapon in her hands with full permission, not to mention the intention, to use it to best the young man standing across from her on the mat. To swing it and connect with his arms, his chest, or his ribcage and cause as much pure pain as she could muster.
She swung with ferocity with each pairing she was in, taking shots she didn’t need to take, but she wasn’t feeling them. Onward she pressed, screaming like a Banshee, taking great pleasure with every crack of the stick she made by whacking the opponent across from her. The sweat rolled from her forehead in waves, soaking her hair beneath the helmet and staining the cut-off t-shirt she wore from her neck all the way down almost to her waist.
All the while, an older Japanese man, wearing a blue kimono that offset his silver hair, leaned against his walking stick, watching intently every time he would issue the “begin” command in his native language. He watched as Samantha charged forward, and could feel the rage seething inside her with every attack. He sat silently, viewing her final battle of the day.
Samantha took her stance, kendo stick held in front of her, and began to charge in without thought to her opponent’s possible attack. She swung at her opponent’s head, but he leaned back, the tip of the stick whistling past his facemask, then deftly stepped forward and inside Samantha’s reach, cracking his stick on the hard top of her mask, but she didn’t stop, swinging blindly until her stick crackled and smacked him over and over, eventually forcing him off the mat.
Her opponent took off his mask, revealing an angry face beneath. “Stupid bitch! Get your shit under control!”
Samantha stood on the mat, slowly removing her mask with a sadistic grin on her face. The Japanese man noticed. “Day over. Everyone out...but you, Samantha.”
The old man stood slowly, then ambled his way to the edge of the mat, his face hardened against Samantha’s eerie grin, but his eyes almost crying at the same time. “You are filled with anger and rage.”
Samantha looked at him coldly. “Is that a question or a statement, Master Hiroki?”
“Statement. Can feel your anger from across the room. What troubles you, child?”
Samantha briefly bristled at being called a child, but answered as coolly as the first time. “A lot of things.”
“Ryan tells me you have lost a coveted championship lately. Is that the source of your rage?”
“Not losing the championship...those come and go...it’s more who I lost the championship to that angers me.”
“Why does this cause you to be so angry, Samantha?”
“Because…” Samantha took a deep breath. “...she’s a piece of shit, if I’m honest. She’s not worthy of holding up her own pants with a belt, much less holding a championship I fought and bled to not only create, but make my company see as a legitimate one.”
Hiroki stood, using his walking stick for balance, considering Samantha for a few pregnant moments. “So you take offense at not the prize won, but the warrior who bested you to win it.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“The anger is not good, Samantha. It drove you to lose focus here today, to be defeated in every match against every opponent. You must change this.”
“I can’t.”
“Cannot…” Hiroki looked at Samantha with knowing eyes. “...or will not?”
“Trust me, Master...it’s a lot more can’t than won’t.”
“Then sit with me, meditate, and we will work on the anger together. Better to use it as fuel for the fire, than to let a flame burn up the fuel before it can be used.”
Hiroki stepped up onto the mat, then sat down with his legs crossed, waiting for Samantha to do the same. She slowly dropped the kendo stick and her helmet, sitting down across from the Master. They sat there for nearly an hour, neither speaking, neither moving, their eyes closed as they meditated. Hiroki, for his part, looked calm and relaxed. But Samantha fairly vibrated as she sat there, thinking about little more than the slut walking around with her possession.
Hiroki could sense Samantha’s anger again. “This does not help you.”
“No, honestly, it doesn’t.“ Samantha stood up quickly, gathering her stick and helmet as she looked down at him.
“Samantha, you must find a way to rein in your rage. It may help you to hurt others, but the one you hurt most is yourself. Release your anger. Find what it is you need to do to let go of it.”
Samantha looked down on Hiroki sadly. “Problem is Master, I know I need to…”
“And?”
“...it won’t help a lick. Until I beat that woman within an inch of her life, until I’ve made her bleed and hurt and cry out in pain...well...let’s just say I can’t let anything go.”
Samantha bowed once deeply toward the Master, then turned on her heels and walked slowly toward the changing room. Hiroki watched her walk away, concerned for her well-being and state of mind. He knew that her anger burned white-hot, and had seen the same thing once in her mentor.
And with a long breath, he recalled where that had led him so long ago, hoping it did not do the same for her…
--ON-Camera--
“I wish I could make you understand. But it’s clear that I can’t. So just let me apologize in advance for what I have to do. I never would wish this on you. I never would willingly do this.”
“But what must be done, must be done.”
Samantha Tolson stands in her private gym, beating on her heavy bag with bare knuckles.
“I’m tired of being looked down upon. Tired of seeing my good name run through the ringers of LAW. They need a reminder of exactly who I am, and exactly what I am capable of doing.”
“I’m the woman who was given a challenge of taking a title left behind by its creator, and to fashion it into something special. And with blood, sweat, and a lot of effort, I did just that. I became a trailblazer, forcing this company into adding not just another championship to its rolls. Forcing LAW into adding an entirely new division to its ranks.”
“In short, I’m the bloodthirsty bitch to took LAW fucking hardcore.”
WHAP! WHAPWHAP! WHAP!
“And what thanks to I receive for that? What thanks to I get for having the second-longest championship reign in the history of the company?”
“I can’t even have a one on one rematch for the title I created. No, they wanted me to have some sort of big clusterfuck with Kate and Roxy and God only knows who else. Wanted me to burn up my guaranteed rematch in something no other champion in LAW has ever been asked to do. Wanted me to give up my chance to look that fucking silicone Barbie in her fucking eyes and see the fear behind them, knowing she was about to get her ass completely and utterly destroyed. They wanted me to give up my chance to beat that slut from pillar to post, all alone, and by the end of it all remind her that when it comes to fucking hardcore in LAW, the line starts and ends with me.”
WHAPWHAPWHAP!!! WHAP! WHAPWHAP!
“No, Stacy, I have to be in the second match on the show. Despite what I’ve done for this company, despite the money I’ve made them, the tickets I’ve sold for them, despite all the eyes I’ve put on their shows because of what I made, this match is my reward.”
“I have to step into the ring with a friend, needing to prove to the world once again that I am nothing more than a cold-blooded murderer in the ring.”
“So, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I don’t need your doctor’s number. I don’t need a fucking paid friend trying to get inside my head. What I need to do is kick someone’s ass properly and thoroughly, and unfortunately, they’ve put me in the ring with you.”
“I have to show Lucas Dupree and Megan Helms-King just how very badly they’ve insulted me. I have to show them just how badly I’m going to break one of their champions soon, one of the Cool Kids they’ve allowed to take over LAW with their bile and their vitriol, with their hate and their general stupidity.”
“Because make no mistake, I will get my rematch, and when I get it, I’m going to do my dead level best not to just beat Roxy Cotton, I’m going to do everything I can humanly do to do something humane for this company and eliminate her from this sport completely.”
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! WHAPWHAP!
“I’m not stupid. I know she’ll laugh about it, but she can also take a fucking long walk off a short fucking cliff. Perhaps the blown-up Barbie boobs’ll save her stupid ass. But I have every intention of laying her in a hospital bed right next to Sarah Lacklan. And I want her to look up at me, and see me hold that belt aloft once again, and remember for eternity that while she might have beaten me once, beating me a second time did not, nor will it ever, happen again. I want her to know that she made the biggest life mistake she could ever make thinking she could get the better of me over the long term.”
“The sad thing is, Stacy, to do that, I need an example. I need something to point to to show her what she’s truly signed up for.”
“That’s where, so very unfortunately, you come in. Because I have no choice. I have no other alternative.”
“You’re going to have to be my example.”
“Now, normally, this would be the part where I’d usually tell a friend that I don’t want it to be this way, that I hate the fact that I have to do what I have to do...but honesty forces me to tell you that I’m not one damn bit sorry.”
“I am sorry that Dupree and Helms-King have seen fit to put you in this spot. I am sorry that they decided to throw you into the ring with me, after asking more of me than I should have to give, after insulting my contributions to their company and their bank accounts.”
“As to what I have to do though, there is no apology. There is no I’m sorry coming from my lips.”
WHAPWHAPWHAPWHAPWHAPWHAP!!!!!!
“I’m angry beyond belief. Angrier than I ever thought I could ever be. The constant rage building and building inside me has only one release point, and until then, is little more than a set of blinders. Because all I can see in front of me now is her. All I want in front of me now is the gutter whore who stole something of mine.”
“All you are to me right now, Stacy, when it comes to the ring, is someone directly between me and her. And I promise you, I’m going to blow right through you with as much malice and ferocity as I can bring forth, and I’ll continue to leave a path of destruction behind me until I get to her.”
“You mentioned blowing the roof off the Nassau Coliseum?”
“I don’t want to blow the roof off.”
“I wanna drive you straight down through the concrete floor. I wanna throw you like a fucking lawn dart, and stick you head first into the goddamn walls.”
“I’m coming to beat you down, Stacy. I’m coming to batter you, bust you up, break you if I have to...but I am going to beat you.”
“I’m coming, and Hell is coming right along with me.”
Samantha throws a rapid-fire flurry of punches into the bag, then looks at her knuckles, bruised and bloody.
“Just….well...don’t say I never warned you.”