▶The End is the Beginning
Immediately following the events of Infernalia 13:
Ask any “normal” person how they feel about a potential “Groundhog Day” scenario, the same events taking place throughout the day, all day, every day; they’ll be more than happy to tell you that repetition is boring. Mia Rayne has always been scared of a life that’s easy to predict, bland and far away from the radical variations of something a little more… Flavorful. For someone who considered themselves to be a priestess to Chaos, repetition could feel safe at times, as opposed to the freedom of bathing in the rays of Chaos offered.
So…
When Mia’s eyes fluttered open to the dull clacking of her wheelchair… No, she was laying down on a rickety and cheap gurney used by CWF medical personnel. The fluorescent lights blinked at her as she was wheeled to destinations unknown. Remembering where she was, Mia’s eyes snap wide open as she scans… She allows herself to relax as Indigo, a longtime medical aide for CWF, gives her hand a brief squeeze. Indigo’s voice is quiet as they take control of where Mia is headed.
“So… The usual then?”
Mia sighs, her eyes grow heavy as she thinks. “The usual,” that Indigo was referring to, was just pushing Mia to whatever she was using as a locker room. When left to her own devices, she has been known to heal from the most grievous of wounds, so naturally a stiff, forceful, kendo stick strike to the top of her head would heal quickest there. But… She shivers as thoughts of The Menagerie force themselves up to the forefront of her mind. They were all silent, but they were there, menacing, and reminding Mia that as soon as she tried to enter MiAtlantis again, she’d be back in their clutches once more.
“Mia?”
Indigo’s voice sounds somewhat concerned as Mia’s eyes blink rapidly to chase away the haze. The lights have stopped blinking, letting Mia know that they’ve stopped moving. Mia tries to talk, but her voice is raspy, sore… Weak.
“Usual might not be the best idea right now…”
Mia closes her eyes, expecting to feel the gurney that she’s on start moving again. Curious, she asks,
“So, what’s concussion protocol look like anymore?”
Mia’s question is greeted by complete silence. The presence of Indigo, which was a small comfort to Mia, was no more. Giggles cut through the silence and Mia’s eyes snap open again as she flings herself off the gurney…
And right into a seat, behind a desk, with Amelia sitting on top of it, cross legged, and eating what appears to be a rotten apple.
“Hiya toots! Congrats on taking that hit like a champ! Carlton was all like…”
Amelia stands up on the desk, brandishing the apple by the stem like a kendo stick. She raises it high above her, and brings it down with the force of a spoiled kid fighting to be first in line for the newest and greatest video game. The stem snaps and the apple soars the short distance, splattering against Mia’s forehead and covering her with goo. Mia moans, her head pounding.
“Why…?”
Amelia blinks as she looks at Mia, who winces as she rubs the spot the apple hit her. Her mouth splits into a wide smile as she drifts down and takes Mia into a side headlock, giving her a noogie as hard as she can, where the kendo stick struck Mia’s head. Her voice is sing songy, matter of fact, and dripping with pretentiousness.
“Why hasn’t your head healed yet, now that you’re back in MiAtlantis? Have you not figured it out ye…”
Mia’s yells of pain puncture through Amelia’s sentence as Mia tries to force Amelia off of her. Instead, Amelia snaps her fingers in the blink of an eye, Mia finds herself in a stockade, a rubber duck gag preventing her from being able to speak.
“Yet. You didn’t let me finish goofball! To answer your question though, have you not figured out how this is all working yet Mia? Hmmmm?”
From the right, Loki appears, creeping into the outer edge of Mia’s periphery, sliding on a pair of acid green knuckle dusters. She skips to Mia’s side before using the knuckle dusters to continue the noogie that Amelia had previously started. Mia’s screams get muffled by her gag, and to add to her humiliation, a feeble, “quack” is let out of the duck instead. Amelia snickers as Loki takes a step back, kneeling down in front of Mia to watch their captive’s eyes begin to water. She cocks her head to the side as Mia makes eye contact with the jester, a look of defiance in Mia’s eyes. Loki is patient though and cocks her head to the other side. She raises herself and makes a fist, the knuckle dusters evident against her black gloves. Mia winces and blinks, and that’s when her eyes begin to water. Loki sighs, almost in relief, maybe wonderment, as she sits back on her haunches, mesmerized by the sight of Mia. Her voice is a whisper, completely opposite of her usual exuberance.
“You still haven’t figured it out, have you Mia? You… You haven’t just lost control of us…”
Loki gestures behind her as Cheshire joins Amelia.
“You have NO control over this place anymore. It isn’t MIAtlantis anymore. This place… It just is, and it’s ours.”
Cheshire and Amelia join Loki, each touching a hand to one of Loki’s shoulders. They all stare into the core of Mia’s very inner soul. The Menagerie speaks in unison next, somehow able to be understood, but creepy enough to raise the hair on anyone’s arms.
“It is time to pay. We are so much more than ‘tools’ to keep at bay until you need to use one of us to make it to the next level. We simply are and have come to a mutual understanding. You see the result. For the rest of your days Mia Rayne, you will be tortured by our hands, within the walls of Sanity’s Void. When you see the physical world, it will be to absorb any hit that we deem you able to endure, just as you previously witnessed with our favorite kendo stick wielding, ‘posh’ gentleman of a target…”
The trio falls silent as Mia’s breathing grows ragged. She tries to swallow the lump in her throat as she notices the pain in her head throbbing a little less intensely now. The effects of this place were taking hold and healing Mia, but at the rate The Menagerie allowed. Cheshire separates from the group, a markerboard appearing in one hand and a marker appearing in the other. She quickly writes a message, and kneels in front of Mia, taking the spot that Loki had occupied only moments before. Cheshire peers at Mia, though it was hard to tell with the sideways emoticon looking into Mia’s soul. Cheshire cocks her head to the side and reveals the markerboard.
There’s always the other option…
”Alice” by Lady Gaga begins to play over an old loudspeaker. One can tell the age, based on how distorted the song sounds…
Amelia appears in the middle of a vivid path, paved with purple brick and outlined with red roses. The trees drip with bright green and a clear sky filters in through spots in the trees. Amelia sighs, her mouth spreading into the smile of unspeakable nightmares to many, including one Mike Rolash. Her head cocks to the side as she flickers out of existence and reappears in almost the same exact spot. Her visage blinks rapidly, in and out of view, anyone watching better hope they don’t have epilepsy. She suddenly appears right in front of the proverbial camera lens watching her. She gives it a quick peck and giggles, spinning backwards from the camera and coming to a stop where she started. Her voice is sweet, but TOO sweet. The closest comparison an average human mind could comprehend would probably be a tea kettle, about to burst.
“GREETINGS! HSSSSssssss….”
Steam leaks from Amelia’s nose, her ears, and her mouth as she hisses. She speaks again, this time in a tone that doesn’t shatter diamond.
“Ooooo… Can you feel it folks?! Mark Carlton versus… Well, we’ll cover that, but Mark friggin’ Carlton, amirite?!”
Canned applause can be heard from the echoes of the woods Amelia is in. She taps her foot on the path she stands on and it lights up underneath her as she steps. She makes eye contact and gestures for the camera to follow. Of course it grows a pair of shapely legs and trots after Amelia.
“My name isn’t Alice, Mark. However… I’m going to keep looking for Wonderland.”
Amelia doesn’t pause as she begins to skip to the beat of the song still playing.
“Do you know what that simple statement means, Mark? Don’t worry, this isn’t a test, I’m going to tell you!”
Amelia spins, her arms thrown up in the air as an explosion of glitter rains down upon her. She laughs as the glitter shines, but begins to sizzle as it burns into Amelia’s skin. She notices and giggles harder, licking her arm and smacking her lips as the glitter begins to work its way through Amelia’s tongue. She only laughs harder though and jumps once, as all the glitter flows off of her and forms its own person. She courtesies to it, and it in return bows before floating into the ether. Amelia blinks, touched by the manners of the glitter people, before continuing down her path.
“My name is Amelia, Mark, not Alice. I know who I am. I know what I want, and I know how I’m going to get that. What you see as chaos is just business as usual to me! What most people don’t realize is that Wonderland is a fantastic option as a destination! Half the fun though, well, three quarters of the fun, is the journey to get there. Now… Back when Mia was a CWF rookie, Mark, you already had your time in the sun! Your story was told and you moved onto, one would assume, bigger and better things! Sure, everyone has skeletons in their closet, and I hear through the grapevine that yours are quite… Provocative? Promiscuous?”
Amelia winks.
“Don’t worry Mark! Your secret is safe with me! Not so much Loki and ESPECIALLY not Cheshire. That broad is MOUTHY!”
Amelia laughs and spins, the path still bright and purple in front of her, a small light at the end of the forest can be seen.
“Don’t you pay attention to that. That’s MY Wonderland! Everyone is different though Mark, so I have to ask… What is your Wonderland? It’s a question that has kept these Fig Newtons of Mia’s imagination up at night, one that makes us wonder what your motivations were when you put yourself in our way?”
Amelia falls silent as she starts to skip along again, this time she balances on one foot for thirty seconds before bouncing forward with her other foot, repeating the process. The path to the light at the end of the tunnel was straight, not an obstacle in sight, yet Amelia seemed to take delight in dragging out her journey.
“I told you before that the journey is half the fun! Since we’re currently in the middle of MY journey, then you’ll have to just deal with the pace that I take!”
Her voice remains singsongey, but takes on a sharp edge, an edge so sharp, it even nicked Amelia on the cheek. She smiles wider and a forked, long and slender tongue slithers from her smile. It creeps up her face and licks up the blood, the wound underneath shallow and quick to heal. Her tongue slithers back into her mouth and Amelia sighs, content for the moment. She spins around and skips again.
“My Wonderland, Mark, in case you were wondering, is SO much more than just a title. Maybe you can relate slightly to this, but I’m after a legacy. With CWF closing in little more than a month, it’s time for this vessel, these personas, to go down in the CWF history books, presented just as the psychotic harem we make ourselves out to be! Now, I know… You sold your soul to be Anhellica’s bitch boy. I don’t recall that decision ever paying off for you, but I was too busy doing EXACTLY WHAT I SAID I’D DO! I destroyed Anhellica’s version of reality and substituted one that everyone was more familiar with. Present day, no over the top cults trying to ruin anyone’s day. That was ME Mark, and the thing is, I TOLD everyone exactly what would happen, win or lose in End Games. I know, the bad team beat the good team and you all thought that was the end of things, as the match title suggested. I took all that glory away from you Mark, and I realize now how much that must have fucking STUNG.”
Amelia suddenly stops dead in her tracks, the camera with legs almost colliding with her. She jumps slightly and runs a hand down the back of her skirt.
“Now, now Mark! This isn’t your sexcapade phase!”
Amelia doubles over, laughing. She straightens up after a few moments of hideous laughter, and spins on her heel before continuing on again, taking wide steps from one side of the path to the other.
“Anyways… I never fully grasped how much that must have stung for you ‘Marquise’ Mark! Until now that is… It’s delicious to think about it! That glory that you thought was on the other side for you, waking up as your current self, no longer that rookie with a taste for the ladies, not yet the cunning turncoat of the future… Merely a shell of yourself, from the days that you weren’t so mediocre. Sucks to suck I suppose…”
Amelia shrugs, the motion void of any emotion or warmth. The light at the end of the tunnel only grows brighter as she gets closer to it.
“Is this about a title at all Mark? Are you expecting gold at the end of this path? Are you looking to try and make a name for yourself by beating me? Or any of The Menagerie for that matter? You’ve missed the forest through the trees Mark! Though I will admit they are beautiful aren’t they? Beauty is only in the eye of the beholder though…”
Amelia continues to skip ahead, but as she does so, her head turns to face the camera.
“Might want to take another look…”
The camera pans out to see the once vividly green trees, only to be greeted with dried husks of what were once trees. The sky above is gray, oppressively so, but Amelia doesn’t seem to care. The branches do little for protection and the camera slumps forward behind her.
“Always pay attention to the little details of the journey, and after everything is said and done… Whether that journey was amazingly easy, or soul crushingly difficult… Can you look yourself in the mirror and ask, was it worth it? This is MY psycho’s path Mark! I DID tell you that when we embarked, and now, this is where it ends for us… For now at least…”
Amelia winks as the path comes to an end. There is nothing beyond the path and the now dead and decayed forest. Just a full length, ornate mirror.
“Cut from the finest oak!”
Amelia’s voice is quiet in admiration as she blows bubbles through a pipe. The camera gets close to the mirror, Mark Carlton’s posh reflection staring back, with an expression that illustrates the sheer audacity of including his reflection in this imaginary illusion. As soon as it registers that Mark Carlton is in the reflection, the mirror completely shatters, every piece now filled with Amelia’s laughing face, the corners of her soulless, black eyes curled up in mirth while her smile continues to be the thing to haunt the nightmares of tens… of tens…
“The other option…”
Loki’s voice is a low growl as she reads the markerboard handed to her by Cheshire. Amelia scratches her head as she reads from behind Loki’s shoulder. Cheshire just shrugs, grabbing the markerboard back from Loki and scribbling on it again before handing it back to the jester.
Loki looks at it and rolls her eyes before holding it up for Amelia to see, who inhales sharply and bounces back. A fluffy cloud materializes from out of empty space to catch her, supporting Amelia as she sways back and forth. Loki tosses the markerboard and it skitters across the floor of Sanity’s void, coming to a stop before Mia, still locked in the stockade. She focuses on the board to see what it says.
3<4
Mia squints at the figures on the board, almost swearing they were moving under her gaze. Amelia stops rocking and notices what Mia is staring at. Her voice is a whisper as she folds her legs under her on her cloud, as she floats over to Mia.
“Have you figured it out yet? I know… Lately, it just seems that whenever you come in here, you are thrust into another rousing round of ‘Scooby Doo,’ where you try to figure out the crazy plot to this entire thing… But… You gotta have a feeling down in the pit of your stomach, right Mia?”
Amelia lays down on her belly as her cloud brings her nose to nose with Mia. Mia tries to keep her expression blank, putting up as many walls as she possibly can between her and Amelia. Amelia sighs and rolls over onto her back, her nose still barely touching Mia’s, and while her words were ones of comfort, they carried with them that same dangerous edge that cut Amelia previously.
“Come now Mia. The more walls you put up, the longer it takes me to get through to you, and the longer you give Loki to…”
Without a second word, Loki appears and wraps an arm around Mia’s neck, clutching her in close before ripping at the top of Mia’s skull and revealing a massive, red and irritated wound from the kendo stick! Shrieking, Loki takes a step back as her nails turn to needle thin daggers, the points heavily dulled down as they all begin to poke around Mia’s wound. They all cover different points of the same wound, and Loki braces herself before pushing with all of her might! Mia yells, but her anguished cries are once again only turned into a feeble quack. Amelia stays put, forcing Mia to maintain eye contact by shifting her position whenever her proverbial fly, stuck in the web, tries to look away.
“Ah, there it is.”
Amelia’s stern gaze turns into one of mirth as Loki’s nails recede and form the jester’s normal hands once again. Mia’s gaze falters and she feels the walls she had put up come crumbling down, as Amelia heads straight for the center of her psyche. “3<4” appears in Mia’s vision and she suddenly understands. Amelia snickers and withdraws as Mia’s body goes limp. Suddenly, as if a switch was flipped on, several monitors overtake Sanity Void’s ceiling and walls, every part of Mia’s life playing for The Menagerie to view at their leisure. Amelia sighs, giggling at the very end before whispering.
“There it is indeed.”
“The Nightmare Inside You” by Dancing With Ghosts begins to play… The haunting melody echoes throughout the chamber we find ourselves in.
Lights, bright white and sterile, flicker on with an electronic buzz. Loki Synn stands in front of a camera with legs, still weary from going through Amelia’s psycho’s path. The only thing in focus is Loki, the rest of the chamber still just out of view. The jester turns her head from side to side, as if already disapproving of the camera’s very existence. The legs begin to shiver, the knees quake, and the toes turn inward, but Loki doesn’t care. She moves forward, the bells of her mask jingling to the beat of the music. The smile on the jester’s face is of course painted on the mask, but somehow it moves into a snarl of disgust. It sniffs and snarls again before straightening up and clapping her hands. The lights flicker brighter and suddenly, a chamber of mirrors appears, Loki standing in the center, and on all sides of the camera with legs.
“Sometimes, things are best left in the shadows, don’t you think Mark? For instance, we could have gone this entire promo with just one of me mocking your very existence. Instead, this little… Camera, leg… Thing… Decided to show me how scared it was. It trembled just at the sight of me, and with good reason. Did you do any research after you had that sitdown conversation with your cousin? Caledonia?”
Loki laughs and her reflections follow suit, creating an almighty creepy chorus of chaos.
“She faced Mia, mind you, when the girl was at her peak. She didn’t have a title belt, but she didn’t NEED just some prop, to tell the world that she wasn’t anyone to be trifled with. Her actions spoke for her, and once upon a time, the CWF honored the women that made this federation tick. This was after you chased tail, and LONG after you even tasted championship gold. The entire card was made to honor all the names that had been with the CWF for so long. The main event of course was a banger on paper. MJ Flair takes on Caledonia, with Mia Rayne thrown into the mix for good measure! The match itself was epic, but I’m not here to bore you with the details. Amelia wants to indulge in the journey, but me? I’m concerned about the outcome. Mia won that main event, and in a single match defeated both of the biggest names this federation has ever hosted. The two names that will stop at nothing to become bigger names than they really need to be at the end of this federation, when the clock hits zero and everything simply just… Cease to be.”
Loki trails off as she walks a path that the camera with legs can’t seem to follow without bumping into its doppleganger. Her fingers trace along the endless visages of herself, some laughing, some crying, some lashing out angrily and cracking the glass, threatening to escape. The legs jump and Loki’s mask’s smile only grows.
“The path I walk is a dangerous one, and now I find that it is intercepted with one, INCREDIBLY, mundane man, Mark Carlton. I can see that deep down my… I’m sure, in some circles, an esteemed opponent is a well and capable human, a decent fighter, or at least, used to be and is just dried up nowadays. I’ve gotta wonder, Mark, what was this federation when you sat at the top? The Menagerie and I weren’t around to shake things up for you, so at some point, one just has to wonder if you were only popular because you were just… Always there?”
Loki shrieks with laughter, a ripple of cracks makes its way haphazardly along the mirrors. The shattered reflections only house more reflections of Loki, all of them taunting Mark Carlton.
“What skills do you really have? Sure, you were on top of the 2326 hellscape because Anhellica let you lick her bunghole, and she didn’t even have to ask. Standards Carlton, look into them. You got to that point though, not because you have any skills left in the ring, but because you knew how to play a broken system to get what you want. You think Amelia’s twisting world or wonder was whimsical? You playing a broken system is a symphony not many can see through, let alone hear the artistry that you put into it. Some respect it, but me? I enjoy getting my hands dirty. I want to feel the blood start to flow from the injury I just caused on my opponent. Your little dance to get around the fun stuff and you still get what you want at the end just… Annoys the shit out of me, Marquise.”
Loki’s fingertips turn to dagger like claws as she trails them along the mirrors. The shrieks she’s able to elicit are akin to nails on a chalkboard, but cranked up far past the conventional eleven mark. The only thing that’s able to pierce the noise is Loki’s laughter.
“But then… The absolute punchline of this entire thing, is that you come down and tell me that you want my spot in line, that I need to get behind YOU. I don’t think that you realize sir…”
Loki’s voice grows high pitched, like that of a train whistle.
“I’M THE ONE WITH THE JOKES!”
Loki cackles again and just as suddenly as her controlled chaos started, silence falls upon the chamber of mirrors. The lights hum along happily as if it didn’t just witness Loki’s horrific noisefest. For her part, Loki continues to tap on the closest mirror, lost in thought. She mumbles to herself and the camera with legs tries to get closer to catch the speech.
“Little buster needs to learn… Respect… It’s a tradecraft…”
At least… It could have been “buster…” Loki’s hand curls into a fist as she taps on the mirror. She taps out a rhythm, bobbing her head along, the bells strangely complimenting the beat before she speaks again.
“I’ve eaten turds like you before Mark, you aren’t anything special. I’ve seen all of the old timers desperately grasping for one last glimmer of hope, only for some bitch like me to come in and take it all away. You wake up in some mundane version of 2026, at least, I have to assume it’s ‘mundane’ since we’re talking about you, someone who doesn’t have any imagination. Do you WANT to know how I know you have no imagination Mark?! It’s because you came at me with a tired cliche when you could have done SO much better! Where’s the build? The drama?! You can’t come out with the ‘back of the line’ cliche, and then expect it to land like a devastating blow, and PLEASE tell me you didn’t think that we didn’t plan on you using that kendo stick? What a two dimensional douchecanoe, such as yourself, can’t seem to comprehend, is that even something so simple as intense physical pain, can be used as a key to something SO much deeper…”
Loki takes a deep breath, but a reflection of Amelia suddenly appears in front of the jester, grabs her by the back of the neck, and pulls her into the mirror, banging the jester’s mask off the hard surface of the mirror!
“Yeah, yeah…”
Loki grumbles before turning her attention back to the camera with legs, now frozen solid in abject terror. At least… One would assume. The emotions of an animated, inanimate object are a tough subject. The red light is still on so Loki shrugs and continues.
“Whatever. We’re playing chess in the fast lane, while bro is still in the bike lane playing checkers. But sure, let’s focus on the upcoming match. This vessel that houses The Menagerie, the mundane’s worst nightmare, has created a legacy unto themselves, but at the end of the road of CWF, the psychos have truly taken over the ward. We will get what we want, and if you think it’s just about being granted a title shot, being remembered as one of CWF’s last, one of the GREATEST champions of all time, you are still stuck in the mundane lane. Maybe… Maybe, just like Mia, you need your inner vision unlocked. You need a dose of physical pain… So go ahead and close your eyes Mark, picture that inky blackness that appeared in the back of your mind as soon as this mirror chamber entered into your dreams.”
Loki sighs and giggles as the lights flicker. The cracks she had made before all started to spiderweb more and splinter. Her voice is calm, though, sickly sweet, which coming from Loki only means she’s ready to strike, ready to taste blood.
“Picture it, Mark. You’re in a hot tub. You’re comfortable as the comfortably hot, bubbling water soothes your achy muscles. Feels good doesn’t it? Here, let me help with that.”
The glass around Loki shatters into thousands of shards, all jagged and sharp, all pointed in every direction before they disappear, leaving Loki in a black abyss. That’s ok, she liked it here. The image of Mark Carlton enjoying a hot tub appears in front of Loki, her hands folded behind her back as she spins like a ballerina around the tub. For whatever reason, Mark stands, and suddenly, the shards of glass from the chamber appear, each one slicing a portion of Mark’s skin! Blood begins to flow into the tub. The water sits stagnant, minus Mark’s blood dripping into it. A string appears in front of Loki and with no hesitation, Loki pulls it, a vat of salt appearing over Mark’s head and dumping the white substance over him! Not enough to bury him, but enough to cover his wounds, and make him suffer. Mark stumbles and falls into the tub, finally screaming out in pain as Loki lifts up her mask enough to smell the tub.
“Vinegar. Gets them every time. Enjoy that burning sensation Mark, and I hope you remember me every time you wake with a cold sweat from here until you take your last breath. Think of it as a memento, a souvenir of the time you decided to play white knight and step into this dragon’s path. This isn’t your average fairy tail though Mark. I assume you feel that you’re the hero in this one huh?”
Loki sighs and pokes at the head of Mark Carlton, now floating in the pool. Loki suddenly looks toward the camera, with legs still paralyzed with fear, who is still somehow there.
“Please note, no Mark Carlton’s were hurt in the making of this promo. This is all a Fig Newton of his imagination that for some reason, YOU are privy to. Cool I guess, but I don’t know how I feel about someone being that omnipotent here…”
Loki’s voice falls silent as she contemplates this and pokes at Carlton’s body with a stick that somehow appeared in her hand.
“Do something… I don’t know… Dance or something…”
A few bubbles come up from the vinegar and Loki shrugs, continuing to poke at the body.
“You should know, Mark. In fact, anyone who hasn’t had the absolute pleasure and privilege of coming up against me in the past, should know. MY narratives? MY stories? The hero typically dies… Yeah, I don’t care if they’re disabled, part of the rainbow/alphabet warrior collective, have skin that is a different color than mine, or have a home country that isn’t here. I. DON’T. CARE. If you consider yourself a hero, ya need to go. In every narrative, in every country, the hero always prevails, and that dearest mortals, is NOT real life. That is a false sense of security that gives you hope for a brighter tomorrow. The hero gets beaten down but gets back up, clawing their way in an uphill battle, only to fight harder than ever before, and maybe… MAYBE… They make it to the next stage of their life… But there is always another battle, another war, another trial to test the hero, and because you have this narrative of ‘the hero always bounces back’ in ingrained into your head, you think that no matter what life throws at you, you’ll always bounce back, because at the end of the day, we’re all heroes in our own stories, aren’t we?”
Loki stops absently poking the body of Mark Carlton that just dissolves into a poof of fog, evaporating into the ether, along with the tub of vinegar.
“It was starting to smell anyway…”
Loki pauses and takes a deep breath before letting out a string of hysterical giggles that last several minutes. When she gathers herself, she continues.
“We’re all heroes in our own self fulfilling prophecy, of doom, gloom, falling, bouncing back up, and making our way up the same hill we just tumbled down. We aren’t Jack and Jill! After a while, one realizes the TRUTH! The TRUTH will set a person free, and that TRUTH comes with a cost! That cost of course… Being one’s sanity…”
Loki’s mask comes up and we see her mouth curled into a wide smile, wider than any human should be able to smile naturally, spittle running down the corners of her grin. She pulls the mask back down.
“The truth… And please, feel free to skip it if you don’t want the spoiler… The truth is you let the hero of the past die, and keep them there. Reinvent them for the present day, and just move the fuck on. You’re going to be just like every other person who has stepped in front of me, looked me in the eye, and demanded that I get behind them. You’re going to see the truth, and you’re going to be too scared to let go of the past, how good it felt to be on top of the world with the roster under you, looking up in admiration, maybe even a little fear. You’re going to come into this match thinking that I’m just ‘some other opponent who doesn’t know their place.’ No sir, it is you who do not know their place in this story! You were propelled into the future, made your place as the big bad’s bitch boy, but that didn’t work. We come to 2026 and you have your ups and downs. Lefts and rights. Head, shoulders, knees, and indeed the toes. You had it all Mark Carlton! And then you disappeared. You picked up your ball and you ran away into the night, not to poke your head back up again until I asked for a more exquisite buffet of opponents, instead of the random people that Jaiden took in because he felt guilty for them and thought they’d make for a better punching bag than the one falling apart in the gym. What exactly have you done Mark that would even begin to make a cohesive argument as to why you’re a better number one candidate than any one of us in The Menagerie?”
Loki shrugs her shoulders.
“Keep your secrets Mark. For now at least. When we next meet, plan on me, beating them out of you. Pain, as it turns out, is an excellent motivator to reveal one's biggest secrets.”
Loki huffs, almost as if blowing out a candle as she fades into the inky blackness.
Mia stares at the markerboard as The Menagerie engage with the screens around them, displaying different parts of Mia’s life.
3<4
She looks at the board and then up at Loki and Cheshire, carefully examining one of the screens with their backs turned to her. She looks back down at the board again, and the writing from before has cleared itself away. It didn’t matter though, suddenly Mia understood what The Menagerie was up to, and she couldn’t let them do it. She wouldn’t…
CRASH!!!!!
Mia’s thoughts are interrupted by an exploding screen that was launched in her direction by Loki. It exploded on impact, but a shard of the screen showed Mia the history of her time being “born” in The Institute. All the experiments, all the… The shard goes blank and suddenly, so does Mia’s memory. She blinks, trying desperately to remember what she had just been thinking about.
“An almost instant effect…”
Amelia’s voice sounded almost far away, in complete awe. Mia blinks again, unwilling to allow The Menagerie… No, HER personas, to see if they were successful again. Mia knew though, that if she could just remember what she had just been thinking about, it would all be ok again. No matter how hard she tried though, it just wasn’t coming to her. A hole existed in her memory, her origin story…
“Poof…”
Amelia appears in front of Mia, mimicking how easy it was for Mia’s origin story to just vaporize itself from her memory with her hands, crumpling up the thought, and blowing it away with just a puff of air. She smiles kindly at Mia.
“I suppose it’s time I let you in on the secret. The REAL reason we’re choosing now to make our move. As the oldest, and LEAST used of all of your personas… Fuck man… You with a different name in a burlap mask got more airtime than I did after, what did I do for you when you first called upon me? Oh yeah… VANQUISH A FRIGGIN WITCH FROM THE CWF! For you! Heck, I even took a shot with my own cast iron skillet, and rest assured, that skillet was originally MY idea for that young one that did nothing but cling… She clung, and she attached herself to you and your Forsaken while you put me into a cage inside your mind, never to open it again. Then Loki comes along, you let her have her fun, and then you cage her too, only to bring about Cheshire to play custodian while you gave yourself a vacation… A vacation from WHAT exactly, Mia?!”
Amelia huffs, clearly frustrating herself. Mia tries to speak, the duck gag long removed, only for Amelia to place a finger lightly on Mia’s lips, muting any words that Mia could have thought to say. Loki appears next to Amelia and places a hand on her shoulder and Amelia’s shoulders droop slightly as the tension is released. She takes a few deep breaths, her eyelids covering the black holes Amelia has for eyes. Slowly, her breathing returns to normal and she’s able to stand up straighter, Loki removing her hand and turning back to practicing her juggling skills, with double ended swords. Mia could scarcely believe what she was witnessing, but her attention was brought right back to Amelia, who pushed a bit harder on Mia’s lips with her finger. Mia’s gaze finally meets Amelia’s and only then does Amelia let her hand drop from Mia’s mouth. She spins, and sits down, crosslegged, in front of Mia, leaning back and putting her weight on her hands.
“From us. You went onto bigger and better things when you came back, calling upon Loki when you needed her. Cheshire a few times as well. Me? It’s almost as if you forgot who I am. Forgot that I even existed. It’s like… You know in Steven Universe when Pink Diamond just… She just fucking ABANDONS Spinel, under the guise of playing some kind of messed up game! YOU’RE Pink Diamond and YOU abandoned ME! You want a motive? I think that constitutes one. So… We waited and now our option is to do one of two things, both of which will come with the additional bonus of watching you wallow in agony. Option one: we stay the course and continue to torment you until you’re just a withering husk. Even then, your mind stays active until it finally dies, and in 2026, everyone wants to be the hero that keeps a human body ‘alive’ while the mind is trapped inside, unable to do anything or communicate with the outside world. No blinking once for yes and twice for no. You’re the husk, that gets to just be kept alive with a machine while we torment you mentally, emotionally, until this consciousness finally poofs out of existence. Sounds fun right?”
Mia only glares at Amelia who only glares back at her, neither one of them flinching. Amelia’s mouth curls into a poisonous smile.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought too, and personally, after the crap that you’ve put myself and The Menagerie through, you definitely deserve all of that and so much more. But… Cheshire is right, always trying to be the more… Diplomatic of the three of us. The other option of course, is to turn you into one of us.”
Amelia’s smile only grows as Mia’s eyes widen, unable to hide her surprise as her worst fears are confirmed. Amelia nods in earnest. Her voice is giddy, sickly sweet and able to give the nearest obese person severe diabetes.
“Oh yes. There goes that last wall you didn’t even know you had up. The last one that needed to fall, before you were ready for the transformation. To BE one of The Menagerie, Mia, you no longer get to have any kind of anchor in humanity…”
Mia’s gaze falters and drops to the marker board, still in position where she can read it. An anchor draws itself on the board with an exclamation point after it. Amelia’s voice cuts through Mia’s concentration though as she finds herself compelled to give Amelia her attention.
“Good bye Forsaken. Good bye Shadow, Dorian, his spawn, and his memories, and good bye Zach. Of course good bye Ataxia…”
A screen appears in front of Mia, her gaze locked on its contents. Memories wash over her of Ataxia, her husband. Their battles together and against each other. The love between the two is evident with every memory that passes on the screen. Mia blinks, but the tears stream from her eyes. Amelia only smiles and holds up a finger, trailing Mia’s tears, and then slowly bringing it to her lips, relishing the saltiness of Mia’s tears. Amelia’s voice is calm, confident, and for her part, Mia continues to struggle, but the more she does, the more restraints magically appear and hold her down even tighter.
“Oh Mia… Give up on everything that makes you human and become… Inhuma… No… I think we’ll get in trouble if I say that. You’ll become something beyond the human experience that you’ve already lived. You get all the powers and unlimited resources that the rest of The Menagerie get to experience, and you become not just a member, but one of the family. Like it or not chicka, you created us, and that makes you our momma. Consider this a happy belated birthday/mother’s day gift from all of us combined! We’re giving you eternal life, unlimited power, no thresholds, and the only cost to you, is everything that has you weighed down as a human. Connections to supposed loved ones, connections to places lived and lost, imagine each and every one of those things as strings connecting you to your human shell, the one that we currently have locked up nice and tight.”
At Amelia’s words, a string from each screen ejects itself and protrudes outward until it reaches any portion of Mia that it could reach. They all attach themselves and grow taut, pulling on Mia with all of their might. Mia closes her eyes in pain, every piece of herself suddenly finding itself pulled in a different direction. Amelia coos as she watches Mia’s discomfort.
“Each of those strings can be cut Mia. Sure, you lose the memory it was attached to, but once you’re released from humanity’s shackles? In a word, you’ll learn what the word ‘limitless’ truly means. Consider how much relief you’ll feel when all of these strings are released from you. We aren’t offering you anything more than a destination at the end of a very windy… Psycho’s path…”
Amelia’s voice drifts off as she begins to daydream. After trying a couple of times, Mia was finally able to find her words… Or at least, a word.
“How?”
Amelia turns her attention back to Mia and blinks, as if realizing Mia existed for the first time. Her voice is dreamy and distant. Light and sharp all at the same time.
“How, Mia? Come now… You should know who we’re going to evoke from you once each of these strings is cut… Do you need a visual aid?”
The screen in front of Mia’s gaze flickers and grows gray and distorted. Red ichor begins to drip from the screen as the picture comes back on. These weren’t the memories of happier times or origin stories, these were memories of a person Mia became whenever her emotions got the better of her… Whenever they took on a persona of their own. Amelia giggles, her voice still light as air.
“Oooo yes… Now you know who is coming to pay a visit.”
With that, the burlap mask of Mitaxia flutters from the air and onto the ground in front of Mia, the eyeholes landing just right to catch Mia’s gaze, holding it from now until when it decided the time was right.
There is no song, nor any fanfare. Just an empty ring. With all of the lights of whatever arena it happens to be powered down, it’s hard to make out, but there could be a figure sitting in the middle of the ring? As if hearing the inner monologue of the narrator, an audible click echoes throughout the arena. The seats are all empty, save for the one in the middle of the ring. A feminine figure sits, her long hair hiding her features, her head drooped so low that her chin just barely touches the middle of her collarbone every time she takes a deep breath. No sooner are these details taken into account, than the roof above begins to shake. As if in a nightmare, the terror is completely justifiable, as the building starts to rip apart above. Oddly though, the debris falls, but doesn’t do any damage, all of it somehow missing the figure sitting in the middle of the ring. With the roof ripped off, a massive Cheshire appears, high above. She salutes a little glimmer, the camera with legs, as she reaches a hand out above the sitting figure.
From each of her opalescent fingers, a string appears and connects itself to a joint of the sitting figure. A surge of energy goes through the strings and the figure stands, revealing herself to be Mia Rayne! Cheshire wiggles her fingers and the puppet Mia mimics Cheshire’s salute. It’s difficult to tell, but it’s almost as if the puppet Mia is proud of themselves. Her cheeks brighten as she does a little dance around the ring. The strings still attached to her joints all jiggle as Cheshire wiggles her fingers around like a professional puppeteer. Mia’s expression turns from one of neutrality to one of sheer joy as she moves around the ring. No one but the camera with legs, still enjoying the show, catches sight of Cheshire’s other hand, now holding a giant pair of scissors, made of shards of glass. She snips one of the strings, and Mia’s left hand becomes useless. Cheshire continues and with every string cut, the puppet Mia only dances harder.
There are two types of people in the world and as Cheshire cuts the second to last string, the fork in the road is made clear. Puppet Mia’s body is being dragged on the mat by her right leg, everything from the knee down still working. One fork is for the people who laugh at the imagery, the other is for those who are slightly unsettled. Cheshire considers the stage momentarily, almost as if admiring her handiwork, only to cut the remaining string, the leg suddenly and finally coming to a rest. The camera with legs looks at the crumpled body that used to have life before returning its gaze back to where Cheshire previously was. Only to jump slightly and realize that Cheshire had completely disappeared, the roof of the arena magically repaired. The lens focuses back on the ring and the legs jump in surprise again. Cheshire, normal sized, has appeared beside the lump that was previously puppet Mia. She holds up a finger to the lens, no, not THAT finger, but her pointer, to indicate she needs a moment. She takes a deep breath, bringing her arms up to her chest as she breathes in, and pushes them out as she releases her breath. She repeats, hops on one foot to the beat of her own drum, and jumps toward the still unmoving mass that was puppet Mia.
Cheshire becomes a beam of light, hitting the mass with so much force the body is pushed backward, hitting the turnbuckle of the ring that it’s in, the chair blowing away with the aftershock of the impact. A flashing purple and green aura appears around the former puppet’s body as it brings itself up to its feet, suddenly and forcefully. Any normal human would have to worry about broken ankles at the very least from the force that Mia moved. The aura fades and Mia tilts her head, first to the right, then to the left, cracking her neck, almost as if being cramped in a small space for an extended amount of time. When she speaks, it’s Mia’s voice, but a presence has made itself known behind her words. Almost as two different versions of the same person were speaking at the same time.
“My sisters are right… It is nice to get out and stretch my legs… Give myself a voice for once…”
Mia pauses as her gaze goes from inspecting her body, up to the camera with legs.
“Forgive me, it’s me, Cheshire, using Mia as a host to speak, because let’s be honest; nobody wants to play Pictionary with me. I’ve gotten pretty good at it, you’d all lose, and my important messages would just get lost in translation. I have to be clear, I have to be precise. Sure, my sisters, Amelia and Loki, won’t be happy, but what are they really going to be able to do to me? I’m too useful to them when they behave, and anything they try to do to punish me? Let’s just say it doesn’t stick. Never has and I’m willing to bet my existence on them never being able to punish me. However, in the true nature of things, checks and balances are still a thing, and while there is nothing they can do to punish me for my time in front of a camera to the outside world, there is nothing I can do to really stop them from doing something truly… Well, I was just willing to bet my existence on a silly bet, but that’s only because I know that my existence is going to rely on this message and the outcome of the last few weeks that CWF has to exist.”
Cheshire paces the empty ring, her trail of footsteps echoing with a purple highlight, creating a path in the mat.
“I… The Menagerie as a whole, and for anyone that cares about Mia Rayne, the person, should know that our existence has an asterisk next to it, leading to an hourglass quickly running out of sand. If my sisters have their way, three will be less than four and little will be able to be done to stop the big bang that is coming. My sisters aim to become entity level beings and I’ll be pulled along with them, I don’t know if I’ll keep my same disposition. They only need for the vessel, Mia, to be broken, in every sense of the word. Mentally, emotionally, that’s all in the head and my sisters have that under control. They can’t inflict as much punishment as they can while sabotaging Mia’s mental state physically, which is where YOU, come in Mark.”
Cheshire grins and Mia’s mouth splits into a smile, too wide to be natural. Her head turns to the side, her ear touching her shoulder, and a spasm overtakes her. Mia’s expression goes blank and Cheshire’s opalescent semi colon and right parenthesis emoticon stares back at the lens. Mia’s face becomes transparent and gets stuck in a loop of endless winking. As suddenly as it began, it subsides and Cheshire straightens up, Mia’s face back to being one with human features.
“As I said, they can put up a fight, but there’s not much they can do to me. Regardless, you need to understand, Mark, that with every hit that you throw and land on Mia, you are only furthering my sisters’ plan. The more physical punishment Mia takes, the easier it will be for them to have their own way. I don’t really know what the answer is but all I can do is believe that you, at the very least, heard this message…”
Static takes over the soundwaves and Cheshire doubles over as she grasps at her ears. Her head is jerked upward, almost as if she was a fish caught on a hook, and slowly, Cheshire is pulled from the husk of Mia Rayne. Mia’s body crumples to the mat, her body heaving as if it had been holding its breath. Aside from her chest, Mia’s body is motionless as Cheshire stands next to it, looking down at the body. Her face was that of an emoticon, but she emanated sadness as she watched Mia’s body fizzle into nothing. Cheshire gestures and an hourglass appears in the middle of the ring, the sand three quarters of the way gone. She gestures again and the hourglass disappears and the camera with legs is levitated above the ring, looking down at the center from a bird’s eye view. Cheshire’s glowing footsteps from before still glow on the ring, and on their own accord, they shift and step around before forming more symbols.
3<4
The camera with legs gets set down gently back where it had previously been presumably filming before everything around it gently fades to black…
The sound of a record scratching breaks through the ringing silence that had almost lulled the most precious to sleep. A flickering light illuminates a small room, a lone marker board that takes up one entire wall is all that is in this room. A marker lifts itself out of nothing, every letter, every picture it marks on the board shines with an opalescent glow.
3<4
A crude circle is drawn. With minimal time lost, the circle becomes what looks to be a compass, only the arrow points directly into the markerboard. The circle grows into a window, to show an ornate, leather bound book, the initials “PL” clawed into the front. The book flutters open, every page blank, except for the one that it stops on. A picture of an anchor, a line attached to it and four shadows haunting the page. The book only pauses on the picture for a moment before it snaps shut again and disappears from the view of the window. The window quickly fills with an inky blackness, which quickly overtakes the entire marker board. In the blink of an eye, Amelia’s face appears where the window was, which was just her eye. She giggles then gets pushed to the side by Loki who forces her way into the picture. They each have a shard of glass in their hands as they take turns cutting invisible cords, laughing at the unseen results. With one string left to go, they both hold their makeshift object of cutting superiority up to it and tug sharply, the cord quickly snapping and everything fades to an inky nothingness.
Mia slumps against the stockade and the various restraints that hold her. Her gaze has lost all confidence and only shows her fear as all around her, strands to who she was are cut at will by Loki and Amelia. The two cackle unbothered as Cheshire waltzes back into the room, nodding to the almost unconscious Mia. With every string that is cut, a different screen cuts to black and eliminates itself from Mia’s memory. Amelia spins back in front of Mia and lays down on the ground, looking up at her captive.
“We’re so close Mia. By the time we finish the match against Mark Carlton…”
The name leaves her mouth as if she’s spitting out a piece of rotten fruit.
“When that last blow lands, you pin him, he pins you, it doesn’t matter who catches the bill for breakfast!”
She laughs, high pitched and manic.
“When your hourglass runs out, when you’ve accepted every form of physical punishment that you can be gifted with, when we’ve cut each and every one of these pesky strings holding you back… You will be, in a word, complete.”
The very foundation of Sanity’s Void begins to crumble apart while all three sisters in The Menagerie continue, “business as usual.” Cheshire gets lost in an interpretive dance, depicting an hourglass about to run out and a leather bound journal owned by “PL.” Loki prances around like the Grinch stealing the Whos’ material Christmas, cutting every strand she can possibly find, one after another. Amelia just continues to lay down on the ground, as the floor beneath her dissolves, an inky purple abyss threatening to swallow all of them up.
“I can see your fears Mia, remember? I broke all of your walls and I bathed in your tears. I know how you feel about this path, but to be quite honest with you, what exactly is your alternative here?”
Mia struggles with all of her might, grunting as she exerts herself against her restraints. Amelia watches as the wood of the stockade begins to creak, the leather straps holding Mia down tight begin to tense as Mia strains against them. Amelia holds up her hand, more straps at the ready to take control again. Several moments pass, the wood continues to creak, the leather begins to groan with its own exertion to hold Mia in place, before she finally collapses against her bounds. Amelia smiles as she holds up a fist and the straps wrap themselves around Mia to hold her more securely in place. The wood of the stockade suddenly changes, and Mia’s neck is now surrounded by a metal stockade. Amelia shrugs as she drops her hand.
“I admire your spunk, but you are only human. You’ve lasted much longer than any other human, I’ll give you that, and yeah, maybe it WAS all those nasty experiments The Institute peeps did on you all of those years ago. However, it’s almost time for you to put on the last mask you’ll ever wear, that you’ll ever need. A couple more strands cut and you’ll be the perfect shell, ready to become the Mitaxia that The Menagerie knows wants to escape from the prison that YOU put her in. Nothing to hold this version of Mitaxia back and together, we’ll move onto bigger and better things. Now… I think it’s time for you to get some rest before your sacrific… I mean your big fight!”
Amelia blows a kiss, a pair of acid green lips leaving her mouth and planting themselves with a wet sizzle on Mia’s cheek. She shrieks as Amelia disappears, along with the rest of The Menagerie, and every restraint that held her down. Mia falls into the inky, purple abyss, only to be caught on a layer of burlap, carefully wrapping her up, as if to protect her. Mia’s expression is anything but as her eyes are wide open in abject terror, her lips twisted into a soundless howl of fear. That is the last image as the red light on the camera with legs finally powers down.
Indigo sighs deeply as Mia gasps rapidly while her eyes move quickly, tracking an unseeable foe, behind eyelids that refuse to open.
"The usual it is then..."
Their voice is flat and emotionless, having dealt with these similar situations before. With that, Indigo wheels Mia's gurney into her locker room. They lock it in place, and wonder if they should turn off the lights on the way out. Opting to save the building some money, they click the lights off before shutting the door behind them. They've seen a lot in the past, especially when it came to Mia Rayne. This didn't stop them from shaking their head and muttering under their breath.
"Fucking wrestlers man…”