Welcome to the Strange
Posted on 01/26/22 at 4:58am by Private: Ria Lockhart
Event: ReVival 2
Private: Ria Lockhart
Matt Ward keeps looking at his watch impatiently. She was late. A good fifteen minutes late. He wasn’t surprised. In fact, he was beginning to wonder if she’d show up at all. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone in a huff. He started to tap at the screen when someone caught his eye. Matt let out a sigh of relief. Ria Nightshade had finally arrived at the event. As he moved quickly to meet her, his annoyance grew with each step he took.
The black dress she wore hung about mid-thigh on her. It was asymmetrical, so it was long in the back. The waist was corset style. The upper body and sleeves were all lace. It looked more like she was going to a Type O Negative concert and not an upscale business conference. The pantyhose she wore had clear runs in them. On her feet were a pair of classic Converse canvas shoes.
[Matt] Oh come on, Ria! Every other time I’ve seen you, you’ve been wearing heels or some kind of heeled boot. I know you didn’t have to wear those!
Ria simply shrugged and smiled at Matt’s exasperation. It wasn’t a warm smile, or one showing regret. It almost seemed the smile was due to the trouble she was causing the PRIME executive.
[Ria] Yeah, well, I was in a hurry and these were all I could find. That is, unless you have a pair of size 9 heels I could borrow?
Matt took a deep breath before looking at the woman again. Her eye makeup was heavy and all black, outside of her eyelashes. Those were neon green and black. Her lips were painted black. She continued to wear that smile that hovered between mischievous and malicious.
[Matt] Just… Just go up to the stage. You’re already over fifteen minutes late!
[Ria] Meh. You’re lucky I showed up at all.
[Matt] You didn’t really have a choice if you wanted to stay employed, Ms. Nightshade.
As Ria made her way onto the main stage, Matt took his leave. There was a nice table with an equally nice office chair on the stage. Melvin Beauregard stood on stage as the host.
[Melvin] Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience and we apologize for the delay. As you know, PRIME Wrestling has entered into a partnership with the magnificent MGM Grand! As a part of this relationship, PRIME has given us access to their wrestlers for press conferences. Please allow me to introduce, at this time, Ria Nightshade!
Ria saunters up towards the seat behind the table. Melvin pulls the chair out and invites Ria to take a seat. Instead, she faces out towards the number of reporters. She spreads her arms out and up, probably knowing this would be seen by more than just those in this room.
[Ria] Hiiiiii! Nice to meet you, PRIME! You don’t know me yet, but you will soon. We’re gonna be best friends! I… am Ria Nightshade. It’s nice for you to meet me!
Ria finally takes her seat at the table in a rather lackadaisical manner. There’s a mic on a small stand on the table. Ria grabs it and holds it in a very casual manner.
[Ria] Those watching at home might be asking, “What the hell is this woman’s deal?” Those are the words of a trash eating, piss water drinking simpleton, something I’m sure that makes up the majority of PRIME’s fan base. Not you, though. You’re great! I have been on this earth for tnweevnetsy ystenveewnt years and I learned a lesson very early on; People are a disease. For every one true, genuinely good hearted person out there, there’s a million pieces of shit dragging everything down. Racists, misogynists, bigots, criminals, just the worst scum humanity can muster… And they’re sprinkled throughout society like peanuts in trail mix. It’s a never ending epidemic. These people, these vile creatures have infested the world of wrestling as well.
There’s a stunned silence over the venom spewing forth from Ria’s mouth. Riashifts so that she now has her elbows on the table, focused outward to the small crowd. It seems that even if there wasn’t silence, it wouldn’t matter as Ria seems to have more to say.
[Ria] They need to be punished. They need to suffer. Even those supposed ‘good’ people deserve it for allowing these vermin to continue their plague without intervention! See, I love professional wrestling. I don’t know when that thought appeared. I don’t know what caused it. But I love pro wrestling. I love dropping someone on their head and watching them wither in pain! I love digging my nails into their temples and hearing the screams of agony! The blood, the sweat, the bruises, the broken bones… Oh my god, it’s orgasmic! Many people spend their lives never finding their purpose, their true calling. This is mine. I was made for this! Now then… Questions?
A dumbfounded Melvin does his best to regain his composure before picking out one of the many raised hands. A young male reporter stands up. As he does, Ria’s head violently whips towards him, focusing on him. The man seems uneasy.
[Reporter 1] Um, yes, Ria. How d-
[Ria] I AM THE WAFFLE GODDESS! PAY TRIBUTE TO ME NOW WITH SYRUPY OFFERINGS!
The uncomfortable silence from before has now been replaced by an awkward one. The reporter doesn’t seem to know how to react. That is, until Ria condescendingly motions for him to sit down. He does so in a meek fashion. Melvin motions to the next reporter, seemingly wanting to be anywhere else at the moment. A middle aged man stands up. Again, Ria’s head whips to meet him.
[Reporter 2] Hello, Ms. Nightshade.
Ria playfully waves her hand up and down.
[Ria] Please, please! Ms. Nightshade was my father! Call me Ria!
The man gives a confused sideways glance.
[Reporter 2] Okay… Ria.
Ria slams her fist on the table violently.
[Ria] Call me Ms. Nightshade, you disrespectful prick!
The man shakes his head in frustration and takes a seat. At this point, a young woman stands up without being selected.
[Reporter 3] Why are you in PRIME, Ria?
Ria’s eyes grow and a creepy smile spreads across her face.
[Ria] Oh shit! One of you nutted up and actually got a question out there! I’m proud of you, little missy! Now then, why am I here? Hm… Pass.
The woman throws her hands up and plops down in her seat. A well groomed man in his mid- thirties stands up.
[Reporter 4] Ria, how much of a chance do you think you have in the Almasy Invitational?
At this point, Ria is lazily spinning around in her chair. It’s blatantly obvious she’s treating this as a farce.
[Ria] Eh, who knows? I don’t know any of the other futtbuckers here, so I don’t have a frame of reference when it comes to talent. I don’t even care about getting the Universal Title. Or rather, I don’t care that I win it. I do want to. What the hell am I babbling about? If I have the title, that means others don’t. Those that have a boner for being the ‘best wrestler’ will be unhappy. Those that want it for the payday will be unhappy. Those that value tradition will be unhappy. I think you can see where I’m going with this. I win the title, pretty much everyone else is unhappy. That makes me very happy!
An older woman quickly stands. It seems she’s hoping to keep the momentum going after finally getting a somewhat serious answer.
[Reporter 5] Ms. Nightshade, are you saying you don’t care about any of the championships at all?
Ria is still spinning in her chair. She stops briefly… just so she can spin in the opposite direction.
[Ria] Woah, slow your roll there, Sally! I didn’t say that, now did I? I’m indifferent about winning the Universal Title, not completely apathetic about it! I explained my reasoning. Some might call it trolling, I’d call it karmic retribution! The 5 Star Title doesn’t interest me much. The lucha guys and tech based meat bags can have it. The Intense Title, though? That’s how you show a girl a good time! I’ll have my eyes on it. Regardless of if it’s tree Universal, Intense or somehow the 5 Star title… Any belt I hold will help me speak in the language I know best, the one I’m most comfortable with… Violence! I’ll be more than happy to get everybody else fluent as well! ‘Kay, bye!
Ria carelessly drops the mic, bolts up and meanders off. Melvin, face red, is left to handle the crowd. Whether his face was red from anger or embarrassment is known only to him. Ria scans the floor before seeming to spot who she was looking for. She bolts towards her target.
[Ria] Hey! Camera monkey! Follow me!
The person Ria approached was a PRIME cameraman, most likely there to record different pieces of footage for the promotion. Ria’s somewhat rude request turned out not to be a request at all, as she dragged the cameraman outside with her. She reached into the breast cup of the corset, producing a pack of cigarettes. Ria pulled a lighter out of the half full pack, along with a single cigarette. She shoves the pack back into its original spot before lighting the cigarette up and taking a drag. A sigh of contentment escapes her lips. Ria then faces the camera.
[Ria] You rolling, pinky? Good. Anyone seeing this may be asking why I grabbed a camera with legs to record something. I have only one reason.Cyrus O’Haire… How ya doing, Hop-Along?! You’re a big boy. Any mouth breather can see there’s a hell of a size disparage here. That’s okay, though. You pump enough venom into any animal and it will eventually drop dead! That’s what we are, Cyrus. You and I, we’re not exactly the same but there’s similarities. We aren’t standard pro wrestlers. We both have a fire, an anger about us. We’re caged beasts. I’m curious, though? Who is more dangerous? I promise you, sweetheart, my anger and hatred has no bottom, no limit. You breathing is enough reason for me to hate your big dumb ass! What drives you? What fuels your fire? Is it just competitive spirit? I hope not, that shit’s boring!
Ria takes another drag on her cigarette. She slowly scans the area. She eventually spots a bench, taking a seat and crossing her legs.
[Ria] I find a certain irony that a man on one good leg, a man much older than me… is making overt threats about making me a one-off. You need to understand something, babe. It doesn’t matter what the match result is. You may win. You may, somehow, find a way to keep me down long enough to get a three count. Whatever happens, I’m taking a piece of you with me. That isn’t up for debate. That is a foregone conclusion! Now how much I take, you have some say in that. Unfortunately, you’re a one legged man in an ass-kicking contest and your opponent doesn’t believe in fair play. Oh yeah, I’m gonna test that leg. I promise you that, honey!
With the cigarette burnt down near the butt, Ria flicks it in a direction off camera. She stands back up and licks her lips.
[Ria] Truth be told, though, I’m glad you’re my opponent. I was a bit worried I’d get matched up with some milquetoast lameass that babbles about love or good competition. You know, a square that assumes you’re talking about a chick when you say molly. As much as I’d enjoy smacking around a worthless meat sack like that, it loses its luster after a bit. I need someone who wants to hurt me. I need someone with a killer instinct. I think you might have that. Can you hold up, though? The bedroom isn’t the only place I play rough, love! I’ve mentioned your leg already. What about your mind, though? You’re older now. Gotta get some ginkgo biloba in your system before we face off! Jokes aside, can you keep up mentally? They say the mind goes after the body is worn down. That might be true for the normal garbage out there.
Ria turns to the side, staring off into the distance. It’s not really clear if she sees something or if she’s just spaced out.
[Ria] You and I, Cyrus… We’re on a much thinner edge than those people. Well, you are, anyway. I’m already batshit. You can’t really go crazy when you’ve been living there for years! You, though? What do you do if you can’t keep me down? What do you do if you start to feel the jaws of defeat crushing you? What what what? I don’t think like that. I’m in the ring, I’m on autopilot. I work on instinct. Doesn’t always go well for me, but it does the trick more often than not. Do you go for a chair if you’re losing control? Maybe you attack the ref? You’ve put so much pressure on yourself. Ten long years! Ten long years, off doing whatever you were doing while the wrestling world forgot your ass. Can you keep from cracking? Can you keep your composure? Simon Tillman or whatever would probably say no.
Ria’s eyes grow wide and a large smile forms on her face. It’s an ugly smile, a devious smile, a smile full of hatred.
[Ria] News flash; I’m the predator here and you’re the prey. You’re a big ass prey that will feed me for months, but prey nonetheless! Do you know when prey is in the most danger? When they don’t know they’re being hunted and when they don’t know they’re prey. That’s you right now, Cyrus. Your size, your talent and your experience makes you think you’re the one hunting. You’ll find out the truth. Your problem is that by the time you do, it’ll be too late. If you’re lucky, it’ll be in time to accept defeat. If not… well, I’ll make sure to mention you on Jabber. Cyrus O’Haire! Come get a taste of Nightshade! Just be careful you don’t overdose!
Ria cackles before winking and blowing a kiss at the camera. She then turns away and starts to walk into the Vegas night.