Post by James Nightingale on Oct 28, 2020 7:34:23 GMT -5
AOD, Inc - James Nightingale sits inside his private chambers within the once-abandoned Wyoming hospital. He is sat in front of a roaring fire, deep in thought as he stares into the flames. On the table to his right; a glass of whiskey, as-well-as an open file containing information on Lissie Hope. He smokes a cigarette whilst leaning back in his chair, in his left hand is his wedding ring; he slowly rotates it as he goes over his thoughts.
The door knocks; Nightingale's mind returns to the present, he conceals the ring in his jacket pocket.
“Enter,” Nightingale demands, he takes another drag from his cigarette before flicking the rest of the butt into the fire.
Thomas Gray, Nightingale’s lawyer, enters the room.
“Another tough week for The Lost Breed sir," Gray cautiously states.
“Indeed Thomas, indeed,” replies Nightingale, still staring into the flames. “The losing streak ends this week, it’s time I remind Action Wrestling why I am The Angel of Death. I’ll lead by example as I systematically breakdown Lissie Hope in the ring.”
Adrian suddenly joins the two of them inside Nightingale’s private chambers, with a tablet in his hands.
“Boss, there are intruders inside the grounds,” says the MS-13 Sergeant-In-Arms.
“Show me,” Nightingale holds his hand out for the tablet and Adrian passes it to him.
On the camera feed, three teenagers can be seen entering the grounds; two girls and a boy.
Nightingale looks up at Adrian, a sinister look on his face, “Leave this to me”.
Union - 2001
A cold autumn night in The King’s City, England; James Harrison stands inside the lift in his apartment complex. Tired and sore after a long day's training, the door slides open; James picks up his bag and shuffles gingerly down the corridor. He arrives at his front door; a small one bed flat he shares with his girlfriend, Alice.
Before he can even insert the key, Alice opens the door, greeting her man with her seductive smile; she gives him a kiss and an embrace. James’s pain after a long day was immediately lessened: her smell, her warmth, the pain and suffering of the day had been worth it knowing he would come home to her.
She takes his bag and leads him into the flat.
She kisses him tenderly, then whispers in his ear, “Go take a shower, I have a surprise for you.”
After his shower, James walks into their bedroom. His attention is drawn to the bed; a baby grow lies on it, accompanied by some baby booties and a pregnancy test. James’s heart skips a beat, his hand quivers as he picks up the test. He looks at the result: positive.
Alice’s arms wrap around James from behind; he quickly turns and kisses her on the brow.
“You’re going to be a Daddy, James,” says Alice.
Lissie’s Union
The three youths, likely high school seniors, have managed to infiltrate the headquarters by forcing open a window. They pose no threat; merely bored teenagers looking for a place to hang out. They’ve taken refuge within an old ward; not yet refurbished as part of the hospitals’ conversion into what has quickly become a state-of-the-art facility for the day-to-day running of Nightingale’s increasing business empire.
The boy starts to explore the old ward, leaving the girls alone sitting on an old hospital bed, chatting whilst sharing a joint. One girl appears attractive and confident, the other is a little plainer in appearance and less confident; she needs to be shown how to take a drag on the joint by the other girl. Unbeknownst to them; Nightingale watches from the shadows.
“The Lost Breed is a team filled with so much potential; thoroughbreds, killers, we just need that one win to turn the tide, to remind the world why we are the most dangerous faction in Action Wrestling. Alongside Sanchez; I’m the founder, the leader, I need to set the tone, lead by example, showing the others what it takes to be a winner here. That starts this week with the single-handed destruction of Lissie Hope.”
“I don’t like you, Lissie Hope, I despise everything about you.”
“I arrived in Action Wrestling exactly one year ago; just as you rose to prominence and captured your first World Title here in this very tournament. But that was a year ago, here we are a year later and you’re still telling us that a year ago you were a world champion. What have you done lately, Lissie? Where’s the girl who was gonna do great things gone? She’s buried next to your dead brother!”
“I’ll tell you what you have become; a fucking leach, a cancerous tumour that sticks to others and invades their body; sucking the life out of them and stunting their growth. Case and point: Adelaide Ainsworth. Addy was always the star of The Swallowing, and you were a jealous, insecure little cunt who couldn’t stomach being yesterday's girl. Sure you have achieved success: winning All In and later on making it to the Semi-Finals of last years Wrestler of the Year tournament; defeating Dandy DiVito in the process to capture the World Title. But that was last year, and this year Addy became the star, and you couldn’t stomach it could you? She defeated you on her way to secure the Baddest Bitch Crown, and the later became number one contender for the World Title. You couldn’t handle it and as a result, all your insecurities came out to the forefront. No one gave a shit about Lissie Hope anymore, they craved something new, someone better, younger and far more attractive, someone who had way more natural talent than you ever had.”
“Attention-seeking whores such as yourself will always do anything to stay relevant in this business. Hence why you cashed in on FPV rather than allow Addy to have her moment in the spotlight. So fucking selfish; you couldn’t stand the fact that another girl was getting the limelight you so desperately craved, akin to a junkie craving their next fix. And the problem that all junkies experience; a quick fix doesn’t last. You got the spotlight back on you just for that split second, but then the drug quickly wore off as the spotlight was once again rightly moved off of you because you lost the belt after your first defence for the second straight title reign.”
“Even after you spoilt Addy’s moment, you again had to strong-arm your way back into the spotlight. You couldn’t just swallow your pride and admit you were just ‘yesterday's girl’, instead, The Swallowing was born. If the life-sucking tumour of Action Wrestling couldn’t have the spotlight all to herself, she was going to do anything she could possible to be carried in it by Addy over the following five months.”
“Addy should have got radiotherapy long ago and have you incinerated into irrelevancy, but she was young and naive. She thought you were her friend when in truth you were just using her. Don’t for one minute think The Swallowing won the Tag Team Titles because of you; they were won in spite of you. Despite you handicapping her; Addy triumphed and won those Tag Titles whilst you sat back and leached away, collecting the bump in your paycheque despite contributing absolutely nothing.”
“Your insecurities, your desperation with remaining relevant, it all came to a front after you lost the belts and eventually turned on Addy. You used and abused her, leeched all you could; if Addy hadn’t been so naive she would have jettisoned you off as-soon-as she’d seen your true self, your real intentions. After using-and-abusing Addy for five months; you beat her down in the ring, leading to your team being eliminated from the Trios tournament. After all the charity you received from Addy, could you not have just played your part, stood on the apron and bit your lip whilst Addy and Sara helped the team progress through the tournament, no. You couldn’t even receive charity without acting like the spiteful, ungrateful, selfish little cunt that you truly are.”
Loss - 2002
James lies in his bed waiting for Alice, who is in the bathroom. He finishes reading a chapter from his anatomy and physiology book; now far removed from his previously promising wrestling career, he is now focused fully on his new career in nursing as he aims to provide a stable income for his young family.
He lays the book down on his bedside table and settles down as he awaits his love; beginning to gaze into the air as he fantasizes about his future life together with Alice and their unborn child, before finally drifting off to sleep for a moment.
He awakes a while later to find Alice has still not come to bed; he sits up, now a little concerned.
“Ali?... Ali?” he calls out, but to no response.
He gets out of bed; his heart starts to race a little as he starts looking for his love. He approaches the bathroom door and pulls down the handle; it’s locked.
“Ali, are you ok? What’s going on in there?” calls out James, in a nervous plea.
He hears Alice sobbing; finally, she unlocks the door.
James enters the bathroom cautiously, he discovers Alice sat on the toilet, her face red and blotchy, a desperate look in her eyes.
Nightingale moves to comfort her, “What’s wrong swee…”
His eyes are immediately drawn to Alice’s underwear which is lying on the floor, soaked in blood; his heart sinks.
Alice struggles to form her words, “It… it started a couple of hours ago, it won’t stop, I don’t know what to do.”
She cannot hold it together any longer, she breaks into tears at the realisation that she is miscarrying. James pulls her tightly into his chest, kissing her on the top of her head whilst he strokes her hair.
“It’s going to be ok,” he says, despite a lump forming in his throat, and his eyes slowly starting to tear up.
Lissie’s Loss
The Boy returns to the girls and takes the spliff from the plain-looking girl. He takes a drag and then converses with her. The more attractive girl appears to get frustrated with the other two and decides to go look for somewhere to go to the toilet. After she leaves; once they are sure they are alone, the remaining girl and the boy begin making out. Nightingale continues to watch the youths.
“Love is a beautiful thing, Lissie. When you meet that special person, the one you can imagine spending the rest of your life with, well shit, it's just magic. I remember that first time I saw Alice in the playground of King City Primary School; I knew even then, she was the one. Unlike your relationship with Spencer, I could tell the love between your brother Robbie and Addy was as strong as the love I shared with Alice, true love.”
“Once again the vile and selfish Lissie Hope rears her ugly fucking head, by standing in the way of true love.”
“What’s wrong with you? Are you so self-centred and insecure that you couldn’t stand by and watch others be happy whilst you wallow in your self-pity? You couldn’t handle not being the only star in the family. If Robbie had got around to putting a ring on it before he had his skull caved in; your soon to be sister-in-law would have been a bigger, more talented star than you. I’m sure that ate you up inside, your mental stability must have started slipping quickly, the realisation that not only were you not the biggest star in Action Wrestling, but also in your own family, that shit cuts real deep.”
“I know how desperate you are to do well here, it’s written all over your face. It explains the constant temper tantrums backstage when booking doesn’t go your way, or when you have a meltdown when you're not talked about in the dirt sheets nor listed in radio power rankings. You are the biggest narcissist in the business.”
“Desperate people do desperate shit Lissie, I’ve been doing some digging into your affairs through my growing network of contacts and what I have found is rather disturbing. It has come to my attention through several reliable sources that the assault which ultimately left your dear brother Robbie with fatal injuries was orchestrated by… LISSIE HOPE!”
“How could I possibly suggest such a heinous accusation as a girl organising the murder of her own brother? Well for one you are ‘The Blackheart’, having a black heart signifies to me you really don’t care what happens to your loved ones, that you're willing to put your own needs over their health and safety. You could argue that I too have a black heart because I kicked my own family to the curb long ago. There sure is a lot of blood on my hands, Lissie, it takes a killer to know a killer and you’ve got fucking guilty written all over your face.”
“I’m pleased your brother is dead, it saved him a lifetime of hurt and disappointment having you as his sister. Your wallowing and self-pity, it’s fucking draining. Just thinking about you now is depressing the shit out of me, just imagine how bad it must have been for him. If someone didn’t beat him to the punch by killing him, he’d have eventually reached for a bottle of pills and swallowed a handful with some cheap vodka to end it all himself.”
“You should have kept your brother away from this business; business and family don’t mix well. You introduced the fox into the hen house; the blood is on your hands and there isn’t soap strong enough to wash that shit off.”
Suffering - 2002
James again stands inside the lift inside his apartment block. Tired and worn out after working a long shift at the hospital as part of his nurses’ training. The door slides open; he takes a deep sigh as he exits the lift and shuffles down the corridor towards the flat. Life had been tough since the miscarriage; Alice had been dealing with some depression whilst James had thrown himself into his studies.
He slides the key into the door and opens it, but the door only opens so far as the chain is pulled across. James walks into the door, not expecting the chain to be pulled across.
“Ali, why have you left the chain on?” asks a frustrated James.
She doesn’t respond. James nervously calls out again, “Ali, what the hell is going on? Please open the door!”
He peers through the opening in the door, scanning the limited view. He catches sight of Alice’s arm in the bath; limply hanging down. He is horrified to discover a knife on the floor.
He gasps in horror; he pulls back from the door and charges at it with all his strength, breaking the chain off the door.
“ALI!” James cries as he runs in panic towards the bathroom.
His heart sinks as he is about to enter the bathroom; is the love of his life dead?
He enters the bathroom; Alice is sat in a cold bath, naked as she stares blankly into space. Her arm has a small superficial wound; a botched suicide attempt, merely a cry for help.
James grabs a towel and wraps it around Alice’s wound; the blood flow had already stopped, the wound clotted off. He pulls Alice close into him as he hugs her tightly, kissing her on the head.
“It’s going to be ok, we are going to be ok,” says James.
Lissie’s Suffering
Nightingale deviates his attention from the boy and the plain-faced girl, who are still making out, unbeknownst to them The Angel of Death has been nearby the whole time. He quietly walks through the abandoned ward without drawing attention to himself in pursuit of the other girl. He enters a long, dark corridor, as dark as the emptiness that fills Lissie’s heart. As he passes an old bathroom, he catches sight of her. She proceeds to roll up her sleeve; revealing self-harm marks, some healed, others fresher. The girl reaches inside her pocket and pulls out a broken credit card, snapped in half to leave a rough edge sharp enough to pierce the flesh of the troubled teen.
The girl pushes the make-shift blade against her skin; she presses hard, drawing a small trickle of blood, her face clenches as she gets ready to pull the card across her arm, causing yet another wound. However just as she begins to harm herself further; Nightingale wraps his arms around her neck, clamping down tightly, subduing the girl with his chokehold.
“SHHHH!” Nightingale whispers in the girl’s ear, as she fights him for a second, but he is too big and strong, and she quickly falls into unconsciousness as he lowers her to the floor. He releases the hold, and picks up the make-shift blade, staring at it whilst raising the card in the air.
“I never understood the fascination with self-mutilation. Why such a pretty girl could carry so much pain and angst to drive her to such extremes.”
Nightingale tosses the card to the side.
“It’s pathetic, desperate, merely a cry for help. What do you achieve from it, Lissie? Sympathy? Poor Lissie Hope has yet another fresh bandaid on her inner thigh, life must be tough, she must miss Robbie, let’s all feel sorry for her.”
“It again highlights how self-centred, how desperate you are for that spotlight that you’d cut yourself repeatedly to gain sympathy. Do you know how many desperate fucks like yourself I came across working in the Emergency Department? Put it this way if I had a dollar for each one, I’d be more wealthy than I am now.”
“I pity you, Lissie, I pity those who are so weak that they lack the courage to go through with their empty threats. When I’d stitch up an individuals wrist in the Emergency Department, I didn’t think ‘poor you, let me help’ no I thought ‘stop wasting my fucking time, next time I hope you slit your throat and save me the paperwork!’ You're just another burden on society, another poor individual with self-esteem problems who can’t hack life when it gets tough, you’ll just find something sharp and penetrate your skin. It’s all empty threats, you don’t have the fucking balls to follow through and end your suffering, just like you don’t have the talent to defeat Addy, because we know she has way more talent than you.”
“You’ve got your game plan all wrong right now Lissie, you're so fixated, so attention-starved that you’re focusing fully on your match with Addy; that’s the biggest mistake you’ll ever make. Am I not worth your time? You’re so busy looking ahead to facing Addy at XIII that you failed to acknowledge me on Clash, instead, I just had to sit and watch some bullshit hype video for your XIII match. Do you know what happens when people underestimate The Angel of Death? They quickly find out they’ve made a grave mistake. It’s ok though; I thrive on it. Ignore me, underestimate me, it will make the victory so much sweeter when I’m standing over your fallen body. The look on your face will be priceless, the look of disappointment and sadness, knowing you will not repeat last year's success, that you have to limp into your match at XIII injured and hurting.”
“How will you cope with the humiliation Lissie? I know your kind: you think your shit hot, the top star here, desperate for the applause from the crowd and the respect of your peers. But in truth? You're no more than a steaming pile of hot shit, the fans have grown sick of you, your selfishness, they see through the act. And your peers? Well, they see you for the attention-seeking little whore that you’ve become, once adored by them, the next people's champion. Now you have nuclear heat, you’re so toxic no one wants to be within a mile radius of you.”
“Do my words hurt? Do they sting you? How about you save me the effort on Monday; keep me fresh for Wesley or Slane. Go into your bathroom; dressed in whatever silk number you have brought for Spencer, put your fist into the mirror, smashing it. Prise out the biggest shard of glass you can retrieve, push it into your neck and slide it across your throat. Finally, do something meaningful Lissie, save me the trouble and just end your own pain and suffering, I’ve got bigger mountains to conquer. It will be quick, it will only hurt for a moment; you will die alone on that bathroom floor, but that’s nothing new for you as you are already alone. Alone because no one loves you, not even your dead brother.”
“We’ve come full circle Lissie; this time last year, I arrived in Action Wrestling full of hopes and dreams that in a year I’d be in the position you were then. I have climbed from a rookie to a star in that year; the same cannot be said for you. You failed to live up to the hype; the momentum from last year's tournament quickly ran out, you’ve been sliding back down the ranks ever since. Clinging on to Addy for dear life was a mere band-aid, it helped slow the blood loss, but now that band-aid has been stupidly ripped off by yourself through your own stupidity, now you’re going to bleed out on the floor.”
“Somehow you are ranked fourth for this tournament whereas I’m ranked tenth; we both know that’s bullshit, I look forward to proving the Pasternak wrong yet again. You need this match with me; beating me is your only hope of staying relevant. But you will fail, you always do, so go do the only thing you can succeed at and take your own life, and this time do it properly.
Nightingale stands back up.
“Oh, and when Action Wrestling posts the breaking news of your passing on Twitter, I promise you I’ll retweet the shit out of it because I know how much you like that crap. Keyboard warrior; happy to spout threats behind the keyboard but too chicken shit to back up your mean words in the ring.”
Nightingale stands up and grabs the girl by the feet, dragging her back through to the ward, where he is greeted by Adrian and several members of MS-13. The couple both lay unconscious on the bed.
“What shall we do with them, boss?” asks Adrian.
Nightingale pulls out a cigarette, rolling it across his lip slowly before finally lighting it. He takes a long drag; holds it for what appears to be an eternity whilst he contemplates his next move, then finally exhales.
“Dump them in the back of a truck and leave them somewhere public. They are young and stupid, but salvageable unlike Lissie; she's beyond salvation.”
Another member of MS-13 runs onto the abandoned ward, clutching a tablet in his hand.
“BOSS, THERE’S ANOTHER INTRUDER, AT THE GATES!!” shouts the MS-13 heavy.
Nightingale takes a final drag and drops his cigarette on the floor, stamping it out with his shoe. “Who the hell is it now?”
Nightingale takes the tablet and opens up the security feed. He watches the footage, his facial expression changes dramatically as he recognises the intruder.
The intruder is seen walking towards the main gate, as they walk closer it becomes apparent that it’s a woman. Her stride is confident and powerful, her identity is concealed by her hood, but her hair flows out the left side. Her jeans are tight-fitted, amplifying her beautiful figure. She stops at the gate, removing her hood as her big eyes stare straight into the camera.
Nightingale mutters her name, “... Alice.”