MD 93: GRT Quarter Finals: Blade vs. Isabel Stone

[Richard Blonoff]

1-1. This is the third installment of the mini-feud between Blade and Isabel Stone. Blade scored a triple-threat win over Stone at Supershow III, while Stone scored a win at WZ Weekend '13. Now, the robin-hood and the low-blow queen will fight to move on to the final four of what has been a thrilling tournament so-far. Will Stone cheat her way to victory, or will Blade put Stone in her place and give the people what they really want? That being Blade in the final four!

Deadline is Wednesday, September 4th, 11:59 PM Central Time. Extensions via request.​

 

[Blade]

The scene is a dimly lit urban street in the late hours of the night. There’s a perfect silence and stillness all around, with the only noise coming from the soft whistling of a light breeze passing by.

Then the pounding begins. Heavy, fast footsteps on the road, getting gradually louder and louder as they move up the street. It’s a man in a hooded trench coat causing the disturbance, his body language that of someone in a state of panic. He seems to run with such effort that he’s not even breathing.

Suddenly, a second set of running steps come from behind him. The hooded man hears the steps and puts his head down, trying to desperately to run faster, even though he’s already pushing his body past its capabilities. “This is your last chance! Stop or I will shoot!” comes a shout from behind him.

But he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop.

There’s a bang. Before the hooded man can react, the force of the bullet has knocked him down onto the tarmac face first. He lies still for a moment, his ears ringing, a white hot pain thundering through his body, convinced that he has already died.

The pain begins to focus in his right arm, making him look down. A steady stream of blood is flowing down from his shoulder, down the crook of his elbow and onto the tarmac. The puddle of blood has already started spreading in every direction. Though completely dazed and unaware of his surroundings, the man gives a weak shake of his head as he sees the blood flow into his jeans, staining them red.

Without warning, a sweaty hand grabs his bloodied arm and turns him over onto his back. The hooded man looks up, right into the barrel of the gun that shot him moments earlier…

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In his locker room, Blade stands in front of a mirror, the collar of his top pulled down as he looks at the small X shaped scar on his shoulder. Behind him, Becky Serra sits, mouth slightly agape listening to Blade’s story. “And… How did you get away?” she asks.

“Who says I did? Maybe I spent five years in prison.” he says with a slight grin as he takes out a pack of cigarettes.

“You’re really going to leave me hanging?” she whines.

Blade smiles as he lights up the cigarette and sits down across from the interviewer. “We should probably get back on topic anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, before I jumped into that story, you only asked where all the stuff was,” he says with a slight chuckle. Indeed, the locker room is now back to normal. No giant TV, no display cases, not games consoles. In the middle, only the two seats and a small table remain. As a result, the room feels much bigger, but much more empty.

“Oh, yeah,” says Becky, sitting up straight and trying to put on a more professional demeanour, “was that story relevant to my question?”

“Actually,” he begins, exhaling smoke across the room, “It is relevant. Ever since I started speaking out about the corrupt that bleed this world dry, I’ve had a target on my back.”

“Apparently you had the target was actually on your shoulder,” jokes Becky.

“Funny.”

“Thanks, I try.”

“I’ve had powerful, powerful people coming after me,” he continues, before stopping for a drag, “Politicians, businessmen, celebrities, even the occasional “mafia associate.” These people bribe, blackmail and murder to keep the status quo. They believe the rich should be rich and the poor should be poor, and any compromise would be a detriment to society. I have had many people try to stop me doing what I do. And it’s scary, it gets so scary at times. But without that fear, I wouldn’t have made it this long. That target on my back keeps me vigilante. With that said, I don’t want a target on my back.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is, Becky, that I have enough of the target on my back thanks to the tournament. Smith is out, Zeus is out, D.C. is out. And according to WZCW.com, that makes me the favourite. I am putting all my focus into this tournament, so I don’t need Bateman coming after me over stolen goods. He actually thinks I stole that stuff from WZ Weekend.”

“But you did steal that stuff,” she points out.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Becky,” he scoffs, “I don’t see any stolen stuff here!”

“I…” she begins, but she just sighs instead of finishing her sentence. “Whatever. I don’t care. Let’s talk about your match with Isabel Stone.”

“Speaking of detriments to society…” he mutters.

“That was a low blow…”

“Well I guess that would give me and Stone one apiece, huh?”

“Stop avoiding my questions about Stone” she half-shouts, with authority rarely heard in her voice.

Blade sighs as he puts out what’s left of his cigarette. “Fine. You want me to put it all out, cards on the table?”

Becky nods eagerly as she leans forward in her seat.

“I don’t like Isabel Stone. In fact, I hate her, and I don’t hate many people,” he seethes, “What’s most frustrating about her… Is how much she reminds me of myself. She’s got so much talent, and could do great things if she really wanted to. But instead, she’s lazy and entitled, and she feels she needs to sink to pathetic lows to get what she wants because she’s so insecure. She has robbed two victories from me in the last month because she cares enough to cheat, but not enough to win fairly.

And I was just like that two years ago. I used whatever underhanded methods I could to get ahead. And those methods became worse and worse as I climbed higher up the ladder. I ended Chris Beckford's career. I pinned Rush in the middle of the ring while he was having a heart attack. I have done so much that I am not proud of, and I am trying to make it up to the world. I can't give Beckford his career back, and I can't take back that victory against Rush, but I can try to help others.

Stone is on a very slippery slope. She's young and stupid, so she doesn't know any better, but what she's doing is dangerous. She has the talent to win on her own, but she feels the need to hit me with a low blow so I don't win. She hides outside the ring, then attacks me as I'm about to pick up a victory. That's how it starts. But it's only a matter of time before she ends up in a much darker place, a place that is very difficult to come back from. A place that ruins lives.

She could seriously hurt someone or even end someone's career, she might even enjoy it. I would know, part of me enjoyed hurting people. Hearing Beckford's scream as I snapped his leg in half was like heroin to me. But the hangover is not worth that sick, twisted high. I was lucky, I had an experience that reformed me. But if Stone keeps going like she is, she'll cause a path of destruction like I did two years ago.

I need to beat Stone. Not just for me, but for the fans, and for those around her. Like I said, it was when I really started moving up in this company that I became more twisted. When you're as insecure as Stone is... As I was... You become addicted to success, but you feel like you're not good enough to get it on your own merit. I'm worried about the kind of things Stone will do to try and win this tournament... To try and win the World Title. And I have to stop it before it starts.

Wasabi and I, we had a good battle based on mutual respect last week. But all that goes out the window when I face Stone. She's not worthy of that. This is going to be a fight, and I vow that I will die before I let her pin me. I'm not going to let myself down and I'm not going to let the people down, because I have been letting far too many people down lately."

****​

 

[Jessie Lynn DivaGirl]

Chapter 12: A Sharper Edge​

I walked away from Blade at Aftershock, confident in what I had said to him. Blade didn't scare me, no one did really. All that mattered now was getting to the next round.

After I take a shower in the locker room, I find myself staring into the mirror. For a moment, I see my old self:

Younger, shorter and bright eyed. Me when I first began to work my way to the pros. I was still naive then. I lost almost every match I was given and nearly got fired for not showing progress. Then of course my dad came to visit and literally knocked sense into me.

Winning is all that has ever mattered. No one loves you when you lose. Anyone who says otherwise is either married or works with their family. That kind of commitment insures love, but not the kind of love that gets you up the ladder.

I blink and the face has changed. Older, taller, tougher looking. I had finished growing by then and had settled myself as someone not to be messed with. Sam had already left to go on to different oppertunities by then, so I was without her goading and support. The first time I was truly alone. And where I became dangerous.

I blink a third time and now it looks like present me. Except my eyes are different. They have a dead look in them, where as before they were satisfied and filled with glee at my win. There is no more hope for the future. There can only be one outcome, one thing that will bring those dead eyes to life.

Winning.

I get dressed and start to leave before hearing Becky talking to none other than Blade. Surprise, surprise, he's talking shit about me.

“I don’t like Isabel Stone. In fact, I hate her, and I don’t hate many people,” he seethes, “What’s most frustrating about her… Is how much she reminds me of myself. She’s got so much talent, and could do great things if she really wanted to. But instead, she’s lazy and entitled, and she feels she needs to sink to pathetic lows to get what she wants because she’s so insecure. She has robbed two victories from me in the last month because she cares enough to cheat, but not enough to win fairly.

And I was just like that two years ago. I used whatever underhanded methods I could to get ahead. And those methods became worse and worse as I climbed higher up the ladder. I ended Chris Beckford's career. I pinned Rush in the middle of the ring while he was having a heart attack. I have done so much that I am not proud of, and I am trying to make it up to the world. I can't give Beckford his career back, and I can't take back that victory against Rush, but I can try to help others.

Stone is on a very slippery slope. She's young and stupid, so she doesn't know any better, but what she's doing is dangerous. She has the talent to win on her own, but she feels the need to hit me with a low blow so I don't win. She hides outside the ring, then attacks me as I'm about to pick up a victory. That's how it starts. But it's only a matter of time before she ends up in a much darker place, a place that is very difficult to come back from. A place that ruins lives.

She could seriously hurt someone or even end someone's career, she might even enjoy it. I would know, part of me enjoyed hurting people. Hearing Beckford's scream as I snapped his leg in half was like heroin to me. But the hangover is not worth that sick, twisted high. I was lucky, I had an experience that reformed me. But if Stone keeps going like she is, she'll cause a path of destruction like I did two years ago.

I need to beat Stone. Not just for me, but for the fans, and for those around her. Like I said, it was when I really started moving up in this company that I became more twisted. When you're as insecure as Stone is... As I was... You become addicted to success, but you feel like you're not good enough to get it on your own merit. I'm worried about the kind of things Stone will do to try and win this tournament... To try and win the World Title. And I have to stop it before it starts.

Wasabi and I, we had a good battle based on mutual respect last week. But all that goes out the window when I face Stone. She's not worthy of that. This is going to be a fight, and I vow that I will die before I let her pin me. I'm not going to let myself down and I'm not going to let the people down, because I have been letting far too many people down lately."

Is he serious? He thinks he understands me? Well, he's right about one thing:

I am going down a dangerous road. And maybe someday I will regret hurting the people who've gone in my way. But it's not today. Today I bask in the glory of kicking the Senora square between the legs and will love to compare it to decking my own mother in the face.

But I don't do it because I'm afraid to win on my own. Far from it. I know I can win on my own. I just do it for fun. I'm not insecure about my talent, because I know it's there. But hey, when oppertunity strikes...

The door opens and both Blade and Becky walk out. I smirk at Blade as he glares down at me.

Thee who are about to lose. I salute you.

I give him the good-old one finger salute and begin to leave. He grabs my arm and drags me around to face him.

I will stop you Stone. I don't care who you've beaten before, I will end this.

The deadness inside keeps me from getting scared. I know inside Blade is afraid to lose. He said it himself. He has too many people to disappoint.

The thing is, I don't have anyone left who will be disappointed in me. Not that I had anyone to begin with.

There is no stopping it Blade. You can't stop progression from moving forward. I will conquer over you, and I will move to the next round. And someday soon, I will hold that pretty gold belt above my head. All the while you'll be left behind in a pool of shame, drowning because you reached for something so far away and fell short.

Our eyes lock and he sees it. The deadness inside. I won't deny that the life in my eyes has been rotting for a while, and now it is gone. He sees it and realizes that I don't care about the future. I never have. I only care about today. About right now. And he knows I won't let anything stop me from getting to the top.

As I pull out of his grasp, the one thing that should terrify me more than anything else barely flickers inside of me.

There is nothing else. Only winning. Without it, all is lost.