Post by Amber Mansley on Mar 23, 2024 22:49:56 GMT -5
Father, I'm considering what you said if you get this letter. I know things haven't been easy, but I've had an epiphany about consolidating the past events between us. A new hunger has arisen, motivating me to do things I've never done before—in this case, reconnecting with you. Just know I'm going to make you proud
After the last beatings caused by her enemies, the world has opened its eyes to see the now vulnerable Amber Mansley pulled away from the glitz and glamor, perhaps the protection of her faction, The Fortunate Ones. The psychological warfare of her personal life has been interfering with her career, but the last talk she had with her father had birthed a new sense of belonging to the industry she tries to deny. After the announcement of the bloodlust championship, her gaze on the prize couldn't be thwarted or distracted from such a beautiful championship she wouldn't even want to look at in the past. Definitely, from her last battles, Amber Mansley has developed a taste for graphic violence and atrocious monstrosities.
Bull's attack in their match on Smash under such extreme rules and horrifying conditions made it difficult for her to hide the scars and closed wounds sought out by medical. On top of that, the attack by the Debonnaires infuriated her and J Mont, but the past was written in their favor. However, something had been brewing inside of her ever since Corey's attack on her. She wanted revenge but not for herself, this bleeding lust that was growing deep inside her. The violent tendencies and nature were starting to show just how hungry she was to become a champion by any means necessary, which meant embracing a side that she'd never seen before.
Connecticut was the worst city in Amber's eyes, yet it was the perfect place to try something new.
The Pigs Eye Pub was nothing more than the average run-down bar hosting the locals and visitors celebrating either a sports event or middle-aged men and women trying to seek temporary companionship for the night. Amber was one of these tenants for the night, but she needed to fit in with the rest. She sat there fiddling with the alcohol in her hand, cozied in her leather jacket with her silky curly blondish glowing hair, let down, nodding her head to the beat of the band. This environment was unbeknown to her, but the nearly blank facial expression as she stared into the shot glass meant she no longer cared about her imagination.
"Ma'am." The young bartender caught her attention, and she crossed her legs, her high boots almost touching the wooden frame of the bar. "Do you want another shot of Whiskey?"
"Make it a double." Her voice was calm but stern, the intention of a woman looking for trouble or to cause one. The bartender took her shot glass and looked to her left, admiring the local band pouring their heart into their music. God, her father loved settings like these, and something about little gems in the city separates them from the usual commodity. However, she was reluctantly joined by an older male who came with a wedding ring to cheat on his wife, sporting the stereotypical modern cowboy in the city vibe. Amber rolled her eyes and thanked the bartender for the whiskey shot as the older creep leaned forward over the bar with his hands clasped.
"From here?" The raspy voice of a chain smoker made her want to throw up.
"No." She made no eye contact, purposefully keeping that to ensure she wasn't disturbed. The voices in her head were beginning to unravel. They suggested scenarios that fulfilled violent creatures in the night, and Amber smirked, embedding more of her mind into what she could do to him.
"So what's a pretty little young thang' like you doing here?" She rolled her eyes again. The man was terrible at treating a woman respectfully, but attempting to woo one was even worse. Amber poured down the liquor and slammed the shot glass on the bar without giving him any eye contact. Her focus was ahead, and she couldn't care less about his presence.
"None of your damn business." Now, that was intentional. "Do me a favor and find another woman to cheat on your wife with. Better yet, why don't you try with a man since you don't have what it takes to be with a woman anymore." The bastard stood out of his seat, interrupting the attention of the rest of the people. A few security members stepped in between them, demanding the man to leave, but Amber took her purse and walked out of the bar without looking behind her as the man became more enraged.
Amber walked across the cobbled stones until she entered her rented Mercedes. Of course, it is the only high-end car in a pool of rusty or broken-down vehicles. She rummaged through her purse until a pair of hands slammed on her window, catching her attention in a vivid response, nearly jumping out of her seat. Unfortunately, that same man was berating her from outside her car door, trying to get in on a drunken rampage, but a couple of security men were dragging him away, and Amber yelled at him from the inside to get away. "Leave me alone, you fucking creep!"
"Fuck you bitch!" He threw the empty beer bottle that nearly cracked her driver's window open. Amber held her hands on the steering wheel, trying her best not to lose it, but the unfortunate anger she'd been holding down couldn't be held down anymore.
She quickly got out of the car and scrambled for a piece of broken glass before marching up to the man being held by security. As he yelled at her, Amber stabbed him by jamming the tip of the glass into his neck, causing blood to spill as he toppled down onto the ground. The rest of security jumped back from the action caused by Amber, who dropped the bloodied glass and marched back into her car before taking off away from the scene in a rapid fashion. Her hands were glued to the steering wheel, and she managed to escape the scene in the nick of time.
However, she had to pull over due to the gut-wrenching feeling of the sin she just committed. The car came to a screeching halt on the side of the road, where she immediately put in park and went to the divider, preventing her from falling off the bridge of a highway. As she hunched over, she vomited nearly her heart out. Amber coughed and took a moment to sit on her car, leaning forward with her hands on her knees, licking her lips, and spitting to the ground below. The thoughts raced in her head, wondering what caused her to do that.
Yet...
It felt so good.
Her hands were shaking not out of fear but withdrawal, immediately causing harm to someone. Who else could be a better target than the man who almost violated her? In her eyes, she was red with anger as the visual became bloodshot.
It made sense. To win a championship in these matters, she had to be this insane—content with causing harm without any care whatsoever. Amber was ready to do this no matter how evil it could make her. It could make her stronger. After all, it's always better to rip the horns of a bull.
The doctor would like to see you now, Mr. Bull.
The asylum for the mentally ill and dangerous. Nothing but the sensory deprivation of pure white walls and furniture with the staff covered in white to help save the patients or make them crazier? Either way, the agonizing story of our patient, Mr. Bull, is wheeled in by the beautiful medical staff of nurses who have him strapped down as he continues to provide a behavioral aggression that would make a child cry. Luckily, this dramatization shows Amber Mansley dressed as a doctor, wearing her usual fashionable pink-designed lab coat with her hair up in a ponytail. Her heels clicked as she scribbled her pen down on a whiteboard as she studied the ravaging man, trying his best to break free from the restraints.
"Mr. Bull. Let me be frank with you on this matter. The last time we were in the ring, you beat me down to a bloody pulp, and I couldn't even fight back. Honestly, I should thank you. It made me realize what I must do now, even to get a chance to become the Bloodlust Champion, the first champion to make history in WGWF. So, without further ado, allow me to dissect what will happen in our hardcore match because lightning doesn't strike twice, and for a man of your unfortunate caliber, you made the biggest mistake any hunter could make. You didn't double tap, bitch."
Amber removes the glasses and tosses them over her shoulder, allowing them to shatter once they contact the ground. She takes a step closer without any fear at this unfortunate horror of a man acting like a feral animal being chained up.
"And that's why you're going to lose. I don't get you. You disgusting breed of shallow-minded men who rely on brute force and extra proteins in their diet to even think with one single brain cell. You rely on your brute power to give you some edge in psychological warfare, and you even choose to use big words you don't even know the meaning of to portray yourself as a competent villain. Mr. Bull, you're nothing more than the usual dumb brute in every action movie who is lucky enough to get a scene. That's what you are. I'm a lucky actor in my film, but now that I'm the producer, it's time for a different role.
You haven't done it before, but it will give you a big break.
It's the role of you being exposed. You're not the monster you think you are, and you're damn sure not the villain. I've seen true villainy, but you don't even come close to it. I've done things, Mr. Bull, stuff I'm not proud of but to this damn; I reveal it because to be the first champion, I must genuinely enjoy doing terrible things to some terrific people.
That starts with you.
It starts with remembering what you did to me. You toyed with me for fun but you made the fatal mistake of letting me live. You'r an amateur. You're not as smart as you tell yourself to be. Just another muscle bound idiot who goes by his instincts but trust me when I say Mr. Bull, this is not how it will end like last time. I am coming for you, this time, the hunter shall become the hunted and believe me when I say I'm more sinister than you can ever imagine."
She holds up a syringe and flicks the tip of it to ensure the liquid is ripe for injection. In addition to her dominant stature, she pushes her hand against the forehead of her patient to make it harder for him to resist.
"Mr. Bull. You want violence? So do I. I revel in it. That's something we have in common but the difference is my violence is uncanny to yours. I am methodical, twisted and I'm very intimate which means while you're busy undermining me and underestimating my skill in the ring, here I am thinking a thousand ways to tear your flesh with many different items to my liking. That's what separates us because with all that brawn, it's the brain that control the body. You can't survive without me but I can without you.
So let's make this very clear Mr. Bull. I don't need you. I only need your blood. I want to make an example out of you because you've embarrassed me. Remember the last man who embarrassed me? Mr. Riddle? Imagine what happened to him. I'm going to make it worse for you and I promise you Mr. Bull that I will make it slowly excruciating as possible. You don't deserve mercy because you're nothing more than a sick freak who can trick people into believing you're nothing more than a common brute.
The truth is Corey, you're nothing more than a little bitch.
That's what's going to happen on Smash and I'm going to ensure you suffer the pain on a scale you can't even imagine."
She takes the syringe and stabs it into his neck before injecting the liquid into his veins. The patient begins to pulsate and have shocking results in the way his body reacts by shaking out of control before suddenly dropping into a completely lifeless state. Amber throws the syringe over her shoulder and looks at his body without a single reaction. She cups his chin to move his head back and forth before letting it go then she smiles.
"You see Corey, sometimes deception is stronger than brute force."[/font][/font]