XWF∞

In Excelsis

Footsteps echo through the vast expanse. Old wood and years of polish linger as ghostly scents on the air, mingling with the more recent aromas of frankincense and myrrh, still heavy and cloying. Flames flicker, a hundred pinpoints of light that cast dancing shadows on dark stone walls; guttering suddenly in response to some new presence, yet unseen. White-robed altar attendants pause in their task, glancing around for the source of the disturbance. A look of uncertainty passes between the adolescent boys, and in silent agreement, they snatch up the trappings of the altar with a redoubled pace and hurry to put them away.

No one observes the solitary form of Bonnie Blue as she enters the confessional booth; it isn’t long, however, before the panel screen slides open beside her.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned…”

A gentle voice encourages her from the other side.

“Go on, my child.”

“It’s been, well -- this is my first confession. And I’m not sure where to begin. Those big seven, I’ve done ‘em all. Pride? I mean, it’s kinda in the job description. I wrestle professionally, and if you ain’t prideful, you’re doin’ it wrong. Greed -- the way I’ve hoarded belts, as jealously as I guarded them, the lengths I went to… well that’s a whole other category of sin. Lust kinda goes hand-in-hand with that last one, and not just in the carnal sense, although… mmm, yeah there’s been a lot of that.”

Her tongue traces crimson lips as her thoughts take an erotic turn. The priest clears his throat to prompt her from her musings.

“Where was I? Oh yeah, Envy, that was a big one, too. Every time I chased a title, there was that element of Envy driving me that little bit harder. How can that be a bad thing? You call it a sin; I’d call it motivation. Gluttony. Not my favorite vice, but I’ve been known to indulge more’n I oughta. 

“Especially at first. The blood....”

She trails off, sea-blue eyes half closed in remembered ecstasy.

“Couldn’t get enough. Still can’t, but I’m gettin’ better at self-control. 

“Oh, an’ then there’s Wrath. That one, I saved it for a real special occasion. See, there was this man I used to love; but he betrayed me. Became someone -- something -- I didn’t recognize. And it was Wrath that carried me through. Wrath that won the day and slew the Leviathan. These things you revile as sin are nothing more than a natural extension of our own internal drive to succeed. Well, all except Sloth, which may be the only one I ain’t guilty of.”

“You mentioned other sins… the lengths you went to in order to secure a title?”

“It wasn’t just any ol’ title, Padre. It was the Title. The only one that mattered. At least, at the time. The WCF World Title. And now that company’s dust in the wind, the title doesn’t exist, but I remain, still what I had to become in order to reach that pinnacle. I traded away humanity for something fleeting.”

A pause follows. One heartbeat. Two. Flames cling to shortening wicks, carrying the prayers of the faithful heavenward on wisps of smoke.

“Perhaps I can help. Tell me more.”

“It’s a long story, Father. Y’see, once upon a time, Bonnie Blue signed a contract with a wrestlin’ company. Bright-eyed and full of naive wonder. Just a kid, with all the talent in the world, and not a damn bit of sense. I believed in somethin’ then. The inherent righteousness of honor, that there was a dividin’ line between good an’ bad; that I was one of the good guys. I wanted everythin’ clean and fair. 

“And I found out real quick, it wasn’t like that at all. But I still believed. Had faith. Not in some invisible sky-daddy, but in myself. In basic human decency. In my friends and allies -- who were, admittedly, in short supply. So I went an’ picked a fight with the biggest bullies on the roster: #beachkrew.”

“Who?”

“Yes. Exactly. Who, indeed? At the time, though, everyone had the hashtag at the tips of their fingers. And they ruled over WCF with an iron fist; their fratboy antics a drug-fueled diversion from a darker purpose. No one suspected the hand pulling the strings would be one of their own; the silent ally at their side, a Serpent in their Eden. When they ceased to serve his purpose, they simply vanished, never to be spoken of again.

“In those days, I found myself at odds with him. The Serpent. He even embraced the name I gave him, out of some twisted sense of respect. I was the only one who understood what he was -- even if I didn’t fully appreciate what that meant. We stood, in those days, at opposing ends of the same goal; and so we went to War.”

This is what happens when you piss off a thousand year old vampire:

Nothing.

He knows your life is fleeting, that Time will bury you and he will have forgotten whatever offense had vexed him in the first place.

Usually, anyway.

Bonnie wasn’t so lucky. The Serpent was known to be vindictive, always ready to seek retribution for any slight, however small; at least in a professional capacity.

Even that, she could have dealt with. She was a fighter, by trade. It was what they did. How they settled grievances. In the ring, or behind the scenes, it didn’t matter: a fight would put an end to any beef.

Unless your sworn enemy also happened to find himself irresistibly attracted to you -- and, if you were honest with yourself, you found you might reciprocate that fascination. Bonnie Blue wasn’t ready to admit it, not then. He was the villain in her story. Heroes didn’t fall in love with their antagonists.

Especially not when he had one hand clasped around her throat, grip as firm and cold as iron. He held her suspended over the ringside mats, letting her struggle in his grasp for a moment, before he opened his hand and let her drop to the outside, eliminating her from the WAR rumble. With a smirk on his lips, he blew her a mocking kiss as she picked herself up from the ground and trudged wearily back up the ramp.

It was nothing to be ashamed of, they told her. This had been her first big rumble, and she’d held her own for a considerable length of time; having entered at number five, outlasting most of the other competitors, and racking up a few eliminations of her own. The odds, her well-meaning friends pointed out, were against her. Her enemy had been fresher, with a greater wealth of experience, and the numbers had simply caught up with her. 

Bonnie knew better: he’d stalked her from the moment he stepped into the ring. He chose to engage only when the momentum of battle would carry him nearer to her. He watched her fend off attempt after attempt to put her over the ropes, had chosen his moment with the utmost care. And when the time was exactly right, the Serpent had struck. She rubbed at her neck, where she could still feel his grip, though the marks of his fingers had long since faded away.

WAR was over, but there would be others; and next time, Bonnie vowed, she would be prepared.

“So it went on like that between us, Padre. Almost never in direct conflict, we matched wit and will. I had a faction, and systematically, he took it apart. Tried to isolate me, make me vulnerable. But every time he tried, I came back better. Stronger. And then I did the one thing he never counted on: I left. Got a better offer from another promotion. That’s where success found me. I built another group and led them to prominence. We dominated the main event scene; between us, held every title that new company had to offer. I fought battles that made the conflict with the Serpent look like a schoolyard brawl. 

“Fast forward about a year. Like most wrestling promotions, UCI had an expiration date. But WCF was all too eager to hire me back. Now, here’s where things get complicated. Y’see, at the time, a man named Corey Black had assumed control of WCF; a longtime ring veteran with a history spanning twenty years, he seemed like the perfect fit followin’ the abrupt departure of the owner. The thing that lived inside Corey Black, however, had its own plans…”