Post by Aurora Graves on Oct 15, 2017 17:17:05 GMT -5
Pickwick Hotel – Rooftop
San Francisco, CA
Saturday night, October 14, 2017
Aurora Graves stood alone on the roof, clad in a black denim jacket with the Rebel Ink logo embroidered on the back. A light breeze playing with the strands of her long blonde hair as she looked out over the city.
Aurora: When I first started out in this business, I was in it for one person and one person only. MYSELF. I never had any intention of letting ANYONE break through my personal barriers and take this journey with me. I’d spent the first four years of my adult life alone, and I was fine with that. But that all changed when I met her....
The woman once known as the Angel of Rebellion propped her foot up against the half-wall that marked the roof, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her jacket.
Aurora: It took a lot for me to put my trust in Alicia Perry.
She pushed off of the wall, turning to the camera.
Aurora: For a while, she wouldn’t even give me her name. But I suppose that was because she had contractual obligations elsewhere, and for the most part, couldn’t. But she proved herself to be trustworthy, and while you know how I am about trusting other people – ESPECIALLY women – I don’t regret the path she’s led me down, because she’s never steered me wrong.
But for all of the great people that I’ve met through her – people like Amber, Avery, Corey and Damon, there has been one dark spot – a shadow in the back alley off the road I’ve traveled thus far....
She paused, letting out a deep sigh as she contemplated the events of the past year.
Aurora: I’m talking about YOU, Gray Malone.
Her ocean blue eyes pierced the lens of the camera with a harsh, hate-filled glare as her lips curled into a sneer as she stepped toward the camera.
Aurora: Even Alicia warned me about you and your tendency to blame your NUMEROUS failures on everyone else, rather than put the blame squarely where it belongs, on that hideous mug that you see every time you look at yourself in the mirror. There’s a reason that the rest of the wrestling world has turned its back on you, Gray, and that’s because everyone has had it with your shit. They’ve had it with you constantly raising yourself up to almost godlike levels, when in reality, you don’t even deserve to wallow in snail slime.
The hiss in her voice seemed to intensify with every word that fell from her lips. She pulled her hands from their denim confines, one fist clenched so tightly that it shook. She took a step forward, pointing a red-painted finger toward the camera as she continued.
Aurora: You are the classic example of what happens when a wrestler just refuses to let go. You know damn well that your best days have passed you by, and yet you keep telling yourself that you still have what it takes to keep up with the young up and comers of this business. Hell, you couldn’t even hang in the ring with a man that’s just three years shy of 50 years old! If you’ve got the gall to call Jason Perry washed up, then what does that say about you, since he wiped the fucking FLOOR with your ass?
You even go so far as to latch on to others to make yourself look good, but all you do is drag them down. And when they finally see you for the dead weight that you truly are, you turn around and you play the victim, acting like you’re owed the entire fucking world!
She scoffed, the hate in her eyes twisting her features even further.
Aurora: I’m through feeling sorry for you, Gray. You’ve burned too many bridges both professionally and personally, and I will NOT let you drag me or my husband down any further than you already have.
But if I know you, you’re going to turn this around on us, and talk about how you’ve never needed anyone. How you’ve always been alone in this world, and how no one’s ever done a damn thing for you. Just keep living in the world you’ve created for yourself, and eventually, you’ll even alienate the one person that has stood by you through all of your bullshit... your daughter Layne. Eventually, even SHE will say that enough is enough, and then you’ll be truly alone...
A low chuckle escaped her throat, as if she almost relished the thought of Malone rotting in a hell of his own construction.
Aurora: This Sunday at Dissension, my husband and I will come out to that ring with one goal in mind, and that’s to rip you apart and scatter your remains all over San Francisco. Maybe you’ll end up being of some use to society after all... perhaps you’ll end up serving as much-needed food for some poor starving stray animal, a pitiful creature that won’t give two shits about all of the grief that you’ve caused. How fitting of an end for you, Gray, to end up as nothing more than a pile of dog shit! Of course, we'd be content with just beating the shit out of you until you bleed from every orifice in your body, including a few new ones we'd be more than happy to create for you. Granted, unlike Jason Perry did at Convergence, we’re going to leave you to rot in your own shame. Simply put, we've carried your ass enough over the past year.
Aurora walked toward the door that led back down into the building. She reached for the knob, but stopped short of actually opening the door. She turned to look over her shoulder, her eyes narrowed to half-open slits.
Aurora: I have a feeling that no one will mourn you once you’re gone from this world, so once my husband and I leave your worthless carcass in the dust, there will only be one thing left to say...
Rest...
In...
PISS!
There was a rumble in Aurora’s throat as she hawked up as much spit as she could, before she spat upon the ground and opened the door. As she stepped through, she slammed the door shut, the resulting noise shattering the silence in the air.
