Post by Cheyenne on Aug 11, 2017 12:21:44 GMT -6
Brain Matter
Crunch!Squish!
Splat!
A dark dank ran down apartment. The sink full of dirty dishes, gnats buzzing above them. The attached living quarters has soiled clothes scattered. An overturned loveseat sits in the middle of the destroyed room. Down a leaking hallway and around a wall with holes in it, there is a Mid twenties woman sitting on her smooth pale legs on a disgustingly filthy bathroom floor. The womans fiery red hair fell all around her as she sat there crunching roaches with her finger, like a novice types on a keyboard. She picks a live cockroach up, securing it between her thumb and fore finger.
Girl: Lil Bug. You are like most women.
The attractive woman tilts her freckled face and blinks her perfect green peepers as she speaks.
Girl: You travel in packs. Scatter!
She yells at the other roaches and they scurry as the one dangling light above flickers, showing the toilet overflowing.
Girl:Yet are weak when confronted.
Using her damaged unpainted nail, she works the head off of the defenseless insect.
Girl: Women depend on men. Like you depended on your speed.
SPLAT!
She throws the dead bug against the decaying wall, and gets on her hands and knees, with her face lowered to the pest level.
Girl: mmmmmmmmmmm *she runs a hand down her side * yessssss run babies.
SLAP! The womans small hand lands hard on the damaged tiled floor killing many of the vermin.
Girl: *laughs* karmas a bitch.
She tilts her head and slurps up many dead insects. She snaps her head back as she her body contorts back to a seated position, chewing the corpses of her prey. The bugs crunch as her perfect white teeth break through their hard exoskeletons and their pale brown innards ooze from her dark green painted lips.
Girl:Mmmmmmmm *Manic giggling*
The woman burps, a raunchy aroma fills the air and puts her hand to her mouth and her emerald orbs briefly glow innocently before going back to looking completely deranged.
A scrawny underfed grey rodent scurries across the chipped tub as the light flickers again showing the woman’s ripped deep purple nightgown. The strange woman bends backward, her flaming mane tickles the floor as she maniacally laughs once more, before jolting into a standing position. The crazed burgundy beauty stands eye level with a shattered mirror.
Girl: Your a fucking disgrace. You're a hideous mess. That will never make it. Not without me. You whore!
Upon the utterance of those last words her petite fist slams into the remains of the mirror. Blood trickles from the stinging fresh wounds on the woman's fist as it slides down to the unkempt porcelain.
Girl: They. Like the male populace. Thinks that I am not worthy. Mhhhhhmmmm But. the unworthy ones are those who hide. They hide behind their men. Brothers. Fathers. Kings. Husbands. All pathetic! *she sucks on her bloody mitt* mmmmm without women. Men would simply not exist. *giggles*
The small framed women twirls expeditiously, and fluidity leaping up on the cracked sink.
Girl: A leader's husband. Mwhahahaha. A so called Queen. A queen to a bishop. True queens. Consequential queens. Need no male counterpart. Especially a lowly bishop. That metal band. Your downfall before your rise. Those Indie wins mean as much as your husband does. The pills. The pills help. Should kept them over him. Karmas a bitch.
The sink suddenly collapses under the meager frame of the woman, sending her crashing into the moist rancid floor. She burst out into laughter yet again as her gorgeous locks become even more crismon with the woman's life force. Soon the laughter ceases as the woman's eyes roll back into her skull and she falls unconscious.
How long it's been, the woman can not tell as there is no windows in the ravaged lavatory. She awakens in a seated position. The broken pale skinned beaut lifts a somewhat limp arm, that has roaches swarming all over it.
Girl: Give unto this earth. That which you take.
With that she backhands her hand into the fractured wall exterminating the feasting insects. The young lady then shifts forward to a kneeling position and picks up a shard of glass. She examines herself in it a bit before her fiery soulless eyes change to those of a beaten child and her sadistic smirk twist into quivering pout. Her blanched body shakes as tears roll down the heavily freckled face.
Girl: Fa..forgive me father. I...I know I sinned. NO! Bu...but it taste horri…
The girls hands slam to the floor as her head bobs and back and forth. The woman sounds as if she's choking and gagging and tears pour down her thin face. Her head jerks back suddenly.
Girl:*gasp* It was just a small kiss. It wasn't even on the lips daddy.
The woman recoils as if hit, then her body falls back to the floor where she glimpses the shard of glass in her hands. Like a lion pouncing her prey, the woman leaps from the floor and slams against the adjacent wall. She slowly drags the sharp edge of glass against the wall, about a adult males throat level, her own blood painting the wall. Her face is warmed by the blood smeared on the wall. The blood combines with tears as she collapses against the wall and slumps to the floor, defeated looking.
The girl's body convulses as she sobs muttering, love thy father, forgive thy sin. Her grasp has relinquished the glass shard as blood pools on the floor around her petite wounded hand. Suddenly a phone rings from somewhere in the disaster that once was the living room.
The girls snaps straight up, smiles then crawls into the musk smelling room. She crawls to a pair of tattered black jeans hanging from the overturned couch. After few seconds of digging in the pockets, she pulls out a old Nokia phone and pushes the green send button.
Girl: *giddy sounding* Cheyenne, Speaking. What needs done my Queen?
A pause as the girl, Cheyenne, sways back and forth in a seated position, taking in all the other end says.
Cheyenne: Jump the fat pig. Bring him to the ring. Yes. Yeeesssss. Then they will see The Sisters of Fate are no joke. Yes. Yes Its that time. That time of the month. Time to give back. DLVGAR back BAGLE AS DLVGAR NONCA us.
Another pause as Cheyenne stands, nodding along to whatever the other person tells her.
She then puts her hand out and lets the phone drop from her damaged digits. A fat rat squeak as it shoots out from under a old frayed bra.
Cheyenne: Mmmmmm *giggles* yes. Run. RUN! All of you skanks. Run.
She begins to giggle uncontrollably as she walks back into the bathroom. She reaches down and turns on the water, and flips the drain. The water sputters and sprays a brown rust smelling liquid at first, but the longer it runs it slowly becomes a clear beautiful liquid. She runs her hands up the stiff, tattered deep purple nighty, that she’s worn the last three days, slipping her fingers under the straps and with one fluid motion, disrobes the stale clothing. The mirror shards floating in the toilet water filled floor, reflect the trimmed fiery bush and the underside of her flawlessly freckled b-cup breast, her small nipples standing erect. She smirks at seeing herself in such a state, and slides one leg into the hot relaxing water. As she steps the other leg into the therapeutic waters, she turns off the faucet and drops down into the engulfing liquid.
Looking like a completely different young lady, dressed in a dark emerald ball gown with blue earrings to accent her pretty face, and compliment her blue-green heels, she grabs the phone from the floor and tosses it, casually into a deep green handbag. She tosses the hand bag over her shoulder as she exits the malodorous apartment, kicking the door shut behind her.
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
The backstage of the Slam arena at the Wells Fargo Center, reeked of sweaty men and their arrogance. Cheyenne twisted her nose in disgust, as she walked down the corridor in a figure shrouding tattered black and moss colored floor length overcoat and knee high black boots, seeking her target. She stops, tilts her head as she examines Lilith’s former little boy toy, chatting it up with an extremely obese man. Cheyenne could smell stale cheetos and Mountain Dew wafting from the young males, as she creep up to an equipment box and peeked over it. Another Man, a large lanky guy in a strange mask came barreling through a nearby door labeled Brotherhood. She peeped over the box, and ponder, is this man related to that joke Smartina in my match at thirteen? If she's as much a joke as this masked imbecile then no need to worry about her. Her green eyes shut and opened methodically, as she waited for her target to be alone. Once the objective left the other two, in search of a vending machine, Cheyenne lurked out of her hiding spot and stalked him. Loud clanging noise echoed the empty refreshment room as the corpulent man dropped quarter after quarter into the machine. He kept mumbling about Kidd’s enforced diet: meanwhile Cheyenne draped an arm down grasping onto a lead pipe. She crept up on the unexpecting man, holding her breath to avoid the pungency of the man. Biting her lower lip, she grasp the pipe with both hands and raised it head level slightly twirling it. The man bent down to retrieve his candy bar, as he returned to the vertical position she let him have everything she had in a single meticulously aimed blow to the temple.
Zander: Ugh OW..WHa…
The man couldn't get much more spoken. Cheyenne’s face resembled that of a cheshire cat, as she pelted him five to six more times. The second blow dropped the man, but she was having so much fun it was hard to remember. To remember, she needed this pig alive and drug to the ring so his friend could watch. Cheyenne found a nearby wheelbarrow and after a lot of struggle got the idiot into the rusty contraction and began taking him to the ring leaving a trail of blood in her wake.
After the beatdown in the ring, of Kidd and his friend, Cheyenne felt so alive. She was slightly angry she wasn’t allowed to break the goat man’s arm as well. The way that scum eyed her. He was undressing her due to her Swedish roots, she knew it. He is a pig and will be dealt with much like the Princess that is married to the pig in the ring right now. Cheyenne was in some dark part of the arena, watching the Brotherhood face off against Zero Tolerance.
Cheyenne: Karma you depended on men your whole life. Hehehehe
She twirls a crimson lock around her pointer finger.
Cheyenne: Your ex. Thats where you learned to flop around the ring. Your current. He guided you. Now you feel you're a queen. I’ve told you Queens. Authentic Queens need no man. Juanita Juarez. You have a lot in common. Double J. Latino thug. You and Karma are exactly the same. Women who pretend to be tough.
Cheyenne runs a thin finger along the dust ridden pipes that ran along overhead.
Cheyenne: Maybe. Maybe you're worse. You actually need man to help you win. He cheats for you. He probably cheats on you as well. The so called legend. You leech onto this legend. He is a legend to men. A nothing to true women. Women who need not brothers. Fathers. Husbands. Clients.
Your brother is irrelevant as that joke of a career your greasy haired man calls a hall of fame worthy. Hall of Fame. Another tool for men to compare dick size. Notice.
She brings the dust covered finger to her lips and blows.
Cheyenne: You're not in it. All your so called history. Yet no woman. Is in the men's club. They don't want us in it. And you support that . You encourage men like your brother. Your boyfriend. To think they are better than true women. True women like my queen. You even stooped so low.
She squats down to the frigid, hard concrete floor and grabs her satchel.
Cheyenne: You stoop as low as a roach.
The ginger pulls a large hissing cockroach from her bag.
Cheyenne: Your man was so pathetic. Pathetic enough to hide behind a mask. He wore a mask to to get back into this shitty company. He needed his ego stroked more than you could even do. He went from owning the fed. Being king among men. To a masked joke. Heheheh, You weren’t even his first choice. Carlos Estrada. Jesse. Manager. Girlfriend. You knew this though. Why you played with Chad. Oh Chad Evans. Another of your crutches.
Cheyenne raises the roach into the air, then slams her hands together. SPLAT! The noise breaks the eerie silence in the room, and brown goo drips onto the woman's face. She runs her hands slowly through her hair then down her face, smearing the guts down and into her awaiting lips.
Cheyenne: Mmmmmm you're an after thought. To Gravedigger. To WCF. To Final Girl Battle Royal. To me!
Cheyenne lets loose a low guttural growl, as she turns to leave the boiler room. A Referee opens the door, nearly hitting the petite ginger in the face with the door. A fire flashes in Cheyenne’s eyes as she dodges the door and grabs the man by his striped officating shirt.
Ref: Umm Miss? You can’t be in here!
Cheyenne gets a glazed over look in her jade eyes, as she slams the man against the nearby cold concrete wall.
The man's voice becomes shaky and his above his brow sweat begins to form: Mame I..I’m sorry but you really are na…
Cheyenne: You! You did this to him! You were asking for it! Always dressing all provocative!
The surprisingly strong smaller woman pulls a small golden hilted dirk from her boot, and runs it up the man’s leg, a cross his chest, cutting into the fabric of his shirt and exposing his bare chest.
Ref: MAME! Puh puhwease I have no idea what you're talking about.
The man trembles and shakes as Cheyenne rips his tattered shirt from his weak frame..
Cheyenne: You, if you had just giving him what he wanted. You harlot! You floozy!
The red head scrapes the knife across the exposed flesh the man screams in pain as blood trickles down his chest.
Cheyenne leans in and whispers: All your fault. All your fault. Had you just given him what he wanted lil bird. Your father would be alive! Now you hooch you will pay!
The sadistic woman slides her free hand up the man's face and begins patting him.
Cheyenne: There, there, lil bird. Mommy will take care of you.
She suddenly jams her thumb into the man’s eye socket. Blood and tears oozed from the wound as Cheyenne leaps up and locks in a flying armbar. The man’s tendons stretch and then you hear something like meat ripping from bone. The man collapses from the pain as the girl continues to tear at his arm for a few more minutes before getting up and sliding out the door.
Cheyenne made it back to her dilapidated apartment building in Chicago still dressed in her coat and ring gear. She opens the door to that all too familiar raunch odor and inhales the pungent odor deeply. As she strolls through the trashed living quarters slowly disrobing her coat, then she peels off her tightly fitted dark green and black top throwing it on the overturned couch sending roaches to scatter everywhere.
Cheyenne: I hope she is proud of me. I did good my Queen?
She tilts her head as she ask the question to the empty room. She reaches back and unclasp the clips to the deep emerald brassier that contained her ample breast throughout the day. She quickly catching a cockroach as it scurries atop her boot that she was in the process of removing. She pierces the creature with her sharp canine and sucks it dry as she walks down the hallway to the sleeping chambers stepping out of her skin tight dark green pants.
The bedroom is mostly empty besides random newspaper clippings duct taped to the wall, and a single dingy yellow and brown stained mattress in the center of the dark room. She pauses next to one clip, grinning sheepishly before plummeting onto the bed.
Snuggled up under the thick comforter, she begins to rethink of the the day's events, and gets aroused. She hopes when she meets here queen tomorrow, to get her plane ticket to Minneapolis, that she will be rewarded in a very special, and pleasurable way.
The streets of Minneapolis were crowded with people who only cared about themselves. People on their phones, people running to and fro, scrambling, hurrying to get nowhere fast. One such person was a colored man, in a freshly ironed armani suit, talking on an iphone.
Man: Yes baby girl, but Daddys got a special business meeting tomorrow and I just won't be able to give you my attention so I don't see much reason to pick you up Izzy.
This peaked Cheyennes interest. The woman kept her head down but tailed the man listening to his excuses on why he wouldn't get to pick up his daughter, and how he would miss her dance recital. She tailed the man to his home, A large 3 bedroom house, with a white picket fence and well kept yard. The man had another call along the way as well, his friend and true reason he wouldn't be picking up lil Izzabella. Apparently Aron, which was the deadbeats name, was expecting lady company tomorrow night and that was why he would miss his daughter's dance.
Cheyenne infuriated had followed the man all the way to his house and now lie beneath a neighbor's car waiting for the shrouding cover of night to fall.
The engulfing darkness finally comes and the demented female slinks up to a back window, finding it unlocked she slides it up just enough for her small frame to fit in. the room is a bright pink, that much is clear even through the sheer lack of light. Eyes peer out from shelves and from a four poster bed in the center of the room. Dolls. This must be lil Izzie's room thinks Chey. An idea comes to her and silently and stealthily she begins to goes to work putting her plan into motion.
The Aron had fallen asleep on the couch, a warm half drank Miller Lite on the table in front him. The man stirred upon hearing a noise, and sits up, looking around the room. He reaches over to the table lamp and clicks the chain. The light comes on and what he sees startles him up off the couch. The man runs and flips the switch to his large living room, and screams in shock, as all the bulbs have been covered by bloody hairless baby doll heads.
The man stumbles backwards, and something hits his leg hard. The object, or objects as he now sees clearly, are human legs that trip him and send him flying face down into the couch. The small woman pounces upon the prone man’s back and locks in a rear naked choke. The much larger and stronger being stands up and with a groan runs towards the nearby wall. He slams his back, assailant and all into the wall, to which she moans out in a mix of pain and pleasure.
Aron: Who..the..*cough* Fuck are you...bitch?
Cheyenne: Lil Izzie’s, Demon god mother. You should have, shouldn't have disappointed that poor sweet girl. Poor Izzie.
The man goes to pull her off his back, but his pinky finger is met with something hard and sharp. He draws back his hand which is now covered in blood; as his oxygen supply depletes he realizes the psycho is nawin on his detached finger remains. Hours later the man blinks in and out of consciousness. Once his eyes focus, he sees the ginger, drinking his leftover beer. He gos to strike out, but his hands are bound behind him with bedsheets. On the wall behind the woman is a large pentagram drawn from what looks like to be his blood. He tries to speak but is to weak from the blood loss. Cheyenne notices her targets awake, she tilts her head and grins ever so lightly.
Cheyenne: MMMmmm *giggles* Oh, you're awake.
She drops down to all fours and crawls to the man,as he struggles as best he can.
Cheyenne: My lil bird you're no devil. My master, my master is much more powerful than you could dream. You, you are a disgrace to HER mighty name. No, not my Queens, but the one above her. The Devil is real, lil bird. She is not you. I know, I talk to her. Most don't know that the devil is a woman. My Queen doesn't know. DIAVOLO!
The woman reaches the man, whom has managed to struggle enough to fall over. Cheyenne grasp the bottle opener on the coffee table and becomes entranced as her mind creates a new scenario.
Cheyenne: Thursday, Jared Holmes bitch. The woman who shares with my Queen. *giggles at the thought* You and her are more stereotypical women. Living in the shadows of supposed great men. Men that only got their greatness because they are men. Had they been women, they would not have gotten that shot. But you, you and Thursday are content, content suckling off them. Drinking in their fame, fortune, and glamor as if you earned it.
Cheyenne takes the bottle opener and places it on the man’s thumb nail. She mutters something in latin then slowly and methodically begins to tear the nail from the thumb of his right hand. The man gets a sudden burst of adrenaline from the pain, enough to shout out in excruciating pain.
Cheyenne: Shooosh lil bird.Alessandra, lil Alice.. Lost in Italian wonderland. You do everything for your man, and he doesn't even reward you. Reward you with his last name.
Chey snickers and pops the pointer nail off next.
Cheyenne: Reward, hmpft, more like punishment. * she pops of the middle fingernail* You're not even a wrestler. Nothing but a smooth talking wannabe thug.
She tears the ring fingers nail off next, slowly admiring the gore as blood drips like rain in the springtime. The man has long past out by now as Cheyenne continues to rip the pinky nail from his hand.
Cheyenne:Oh. *she gasp in mock surprise* Lil bird, you couldn’t handle the pain. Much like you won't be the Final Girl come friday.
The crimson haired woman's phone begins to ring. She tosses the nails onto the prone man, and answers it.
Cheyenne: Helloooo my Queen. Who? She is? Interesting. TELOC OL OIAD witch!
No? Why? Yesss, she's yours. Yes, yes I won't kill her. She's no you, but was a former world champion. An attractive, and strong woman. *moans into phone, but immediately flinches* I’m sorry my Queen. No, she may wield my master's power, but my master wields me for power. Yes, yes and for you my Queen.
Cheyenne squats down tilting her head examining the man’s wounds and sucking the blood off the fingers in between talking to the other woman.
Cheyenne: There is more to my master's power than what that so called The Epitome of Evil’s prestidigitation tricks.
The other end laughs then hangs up. Cheyenne puts the phone away and stands up.
Cheyenne: Sara, my lil bird. My Queen says I can’t end you. But *looks at the pentagram* my master wants me to end you. You are beautiful, *moans rubbing her hand down her side* powerful woman, but you spent the majority of 2016 losing matches and making forgotten comebacks. *giggles* My Queen nor master is afraid of you, nor, nor am I. I guess you should be thankful, thankful Jared Holmes at least won't be able to get his filthy dick beaters on you this time, and *moans once more, but louder* hump your beaten broken body, bitch!
Cheyenne spits on the man: Oh and buy Izzie a pony, you fucking pig!
With that last statement she leaves the man’s home to prepare for the big match.
Scar Tissue
Last TIme On: Cheyenne
MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA was cold as cold could be. Ice had formed around the redhead's nose as she stood atop the building overlooking the Ford residence. Just a few days ago she had tailed Anon Ford to this very house. The woman dressed in a long deep green ball gown, that accented her fiery flowing locks, had stalked the man due to a call she had overheard. The call had angered her because the man was bailing on his daughter's visitation to spend the following night with a hooker. That never happened and the man and his heavily bandaged hand loaded up his 2013 Ford Mustang with his adorable 12 year old daughter. Cheyenne smirked thinking back to the other night and the fun she had had with the colored man, or the parts she remembered anyway. She had made the man pay and now he was taking his daughter to a horse ranch, where she would be allowed to pick out any horse she wanted. She may have lost the battle royal at XIII, she was content with lasting to the final three, more so she was ecstatic she made the bad father pay.The crimson haired lunatic turned to leave,her green heels slipping a bit on the frozen rooftop. Cheyenne smirks, what a mess that would have made, falling three stories.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania wasn't much warmer than the last hell hole the pale beauty was at. SLAM was to be in this so called city of the extreme. Cheyenne’s thoughts were always at one end of the extreme or the other. Chey walked into a run down motel office, her black heels clicking upon the dingy wooden floor. The short fat man behind the counter who resembled Danny Devito quite a bit, was awe struck.
Man: Why helllllloooooo nurse! You look alot better than De’Angelo’s normal girls. Want the typical room?
Cheyenne: A room yes. Pig man.
Chey leans across the filthy desk,her b cups peaking out through the strings of her black vest-like shirt. She grabbed the filthy man by his horribly tied tie, and pulled him in very close to her face.
Cheyenne: Who? Who is De’Angelo?
The man winced in pain as near albino woman raked a uneven finger nail across his cheek.
Man: Um my apologies ma'am, I, I thought you were one his call girls. Uh here rooms on the house.
The man sets a key attached to some rubber advertisement into the small pale hand as the other one lets go of his tie. The man stared a hole through the curvish figure that the woman’s blue jeans showed as she walked towards the door. She looked down at the key which read room 203,picking up her suitcase she had left by the front door. The woman then bent backwards like something out of the Matrix she glaring at the fat slob.
Cheyenne: Tell De’Angelo, tell him I’m in room 203, lil bird.
The motel room was small with one queen size bed with two end tables on either side. Small lamps set upon the oak tables. The burgundy beauty slowly crept to the lamps and turned her head to the side, as she gently grasped one of the small lamps. Suddenly the petite woman whips the lamp across the room, sparks flying as the cord was jerked from the outlet.
Cheyenne: I hate you! I fucking hate you! You took him from me!
She heaves the end table over the bed and into the other tables shattering the second lamp and splitting the table that was thrown. Cheyenne reaches down and slips off one her heels and throws it at the wall. It ricochets off the wall and bounces into the bathroom off to the side, but the second one’s 4” heel sticks straight into the wall.The emerald windows to the ginger’s soul begin to glaze over.
Cheyenne laughing: You deserve that! You deserved everything I have given you! Given you since you took him from me!
The pale freckled face turned a dark red as anger coursed throughout her. She squated down with her back to the bed, and attempted to lift it, failing to do so at first.
Cheyenne straining: I...FUCKING...HATE...YOU!!!
With those last words the bed flips sending the mattress crashing into the table ruins,and knocking over the television that set narrowly in front of the bed. Exhausted , the woman slouched to the floor sighing heavily. She spread out on the floor, her breast squishing against the red shag carpet, as she grasped her suitcase. Cheyenne rolled to her back after opening the suitcase and retrieving a small brown satchel. The mentally damaged female opened the satchel above her face, pouring several cockroaches of various sizes scattering across her lightly made up face and into her agape mouth.
An ecstatic sounding Cheyenne: There, thats better. *giggles* Better, more like home my babies.
With that the drained woman rolled back over and fell into unconsciousness.
Several hours later, a man adorned in a maroon over coat, zebra striped large hat, and matching boots crept through the partially open door. The dark complected man looks about the room, thinking to himself what the fuck happened here. Then he sees the very attractive woman on the carpeted floor.
De’Angelo: Well well did you not please the cust….Wait.
De’Angelo bends down taking a closer look at the sleeping woman. He runs a hand up her leg, and over her tight behind, pausing to squeeze it ever so slightly.
De’Angelo: Hmmm, you’re not one of my ladies. But I definitely see why Franky was drooling over you. Mmm mmm baby girl you look fine as hell.
The man stand above the red sea of hair looking down at the woman, then scanning the room. Thinking that no one would be able to tie him to the scene if he just had a sample of this fine looking woman, he unzipped his pants. Unbeknownst to the sleeze ball, the firecracker on the floor, had opened her green eyes upon the trespassers groping of her rear end. As soon as he had his zipper down and was fumbling with the button, Cheyenne leapt at him, clamping her pearly white teeth down hard around the man’s private parts. The soft flesh was sliced right through and the man cried out in agony as he stumbled back in both pain and shock. The pimp looks down at his crotch, his underwear and jeans now a deep crimson as Cheyenne spat his severed manhood to the ground. In the time it took him to process what had happened, Cheyenne had snatched up a bed sheet and leapt around the larger man. The red haired psychopath wrapped the sheet around the thin dark neck a couple of times and pulled as hard as she could. De’Angelo pulled at the burgundy beauty's hair trying to dislodge her from his back. The crazed woman moaned out in pleasure as chunks of her hair were ripped out. The man went to slam her against the wall but his oxygen had ran out, and he slumped to the floor. Cheyenne set there petting the blue in the face man’s dark hair, her pasty legs laying on top of the man's bloody lap.
Cheyenne: Goat man,I told you goat man. Keep your hands to yourself. No, no bad goat man.
She smacks the lifeless skull.
Cheyenne: *giggle* dirty man. Dirty goat man, may think he get to touch me. Touch my queen. Goat man, crazy as horned ponies he think he better than. Silly goat man, goats have horns too. Goats and horney things are BAD!
Cheyenne bites the right ear tugging on it like a pitbull on a bone. She spits it over with the severed member.
Cheyenne: ESIASCH OE DONASDOGAMATASTOS goat OLLOR!
youtu.be/1G9mNBUymP8 ((video))
Shortly after the struggle ends, three police cars arrive and out rush 5 officers. They run into the motel room, guns and tasers aimed at the woman who just smiles as she pats the lifeless corpse.
Cheyenne: Goat man touched me. *tilts her head* Are you here to take me away from mommy?
The red head stands and three of the trigger ready officers tase her small frame. She giggles as her body involuntarily convulsed from the electricity flowing into her. It only takes a few seconds before the blood covered woman is unconscious yet again and placed in cuffs.
Several officers in the police station are talking loudly about their most recent arrest. The girl they found with known pimp De’Angelo’s dead body is sitting in the holding cell, sitting cross legged and talking to the wall in some foreign tongue.
Police Officer #1: Any idea what she’s even saying, Bill?
The other Officer shook his head, clearly stumped by whatever it was the attractive redhead was saying as she rocked back and forth in her cell.
Police Officer #2: No, not a clue. I mean, I’m not well versed in foreign languages but I can honestly say I have never heard such a thing… it's kind of creepy.
Voice: Yeah, you’re right, it is… but you get used to it. She is kinda cute though right, I dunno about you guys but I wouldn’t mind spending a few minutes alone in that cell with her if you get what I mean.
The officers immediately turn around to see who had just said that as they notice that an extremely good looking brunette has just stepped into the station. She is wearing skin tight black leather pants, black biker boots, a silver studded belt and a black tank top which clearly showed off her ample breasts. The girl steps up to the two men at their desks and leans onto her hands, allowing them perfect view of her cleavage.
Police Officer #1: Who are you?...
The man was clearly drooling over himself as he continued to check out the brunette, she just found him doing this extremely funny and extremely predictable.
Attractive Female: Who I am isn’t important, what IS important is the fact that you have my friend over there locked away in some kinda cage like a wild animal or something… and for what?!
Police Officer #2: Errrrrr, she was caught red handed wit---
The girl immediately lifts her arm up into the air, placing a single finger against the officers lips silencing him.
Attractive Female: Pfffffft caught red handed. Caught red handed. If I was locked up every single time I was caught red handed I’d be… well, I’d be in here A LOT. Lets just put it like that! So you gonna let her go or what? We have a big fight coming up… well, I say big fight… in reality it's more like we’re just gonna murder a bunch of guys.
Several other officers begin to gather around the beautiful woman, some even have their hands on their tasers. As tensions build, Cheyenne notices the woman and crawls over to the cage bars watching intently. A thick wooden door, behind the brunette, swings open abruptly.
Chief: What the hell’s going on here? I was eating my raspberry filled donuts dammit and watching the Cowboys lose! You some bitches better have…. Why hello Miss. I’m Police Chief Wiggums.
The officer eyes the alluring brunette intensely looking her up and down as his mind wanders to that dirty place most men’s wonder to, upon seeing an attractive female. The girl slowly begins to lose patience however, knowing full well that the redhead behind the bars was watching her every move like a hawk. She just needed to get her out of this mess, she didn't have time for these guys to be the perverts that they always were.
Attractive Female: You like what you see, huh?
The Police Chief nods his head, like a puppy dog eyeing up a bone.
Attractive Female: Good, let's go somewhere a little more private so we can… talk. I’m sure there's something we can do to make us both happy here, right?
Chief Wiggums: UM, why yes I’m sure there is. Just step over here into my office, and we can discuss her bond.
The Portly man adjust his weapon belt and waddles to his room with a huge I love my job smirk on his face. The brunette closely followed the pudgy Police Chief as they entered his room. No doubt about it the man was thinking of lighting some candles, putting on some relaxing music and slipping into something a little more comfortable… but the brunette had other ideas in mind. As soon as she closed the door behind her, she reaches over and grabs the man by his shoulder, spinning him around and making him stare directly into her eyes.
Chief Wiggums: *chuckles* Oh mm baby. Straight to business eh? Okay!
The man reaches down to try remove his belt before he does so though the brunette completely loses her patience. She grabs her around his thick throat, but does not squeeze too tightly. She instead forces the man to look at her in her eyes without distraction. As he does so he slowly begins to fall under her spell and as quickly as the brunette grabbed him, she lets go, the man rocking back and forth on the spot as she smiles sweetly at him.
Attractive Female: Remove your gun and place all of your belongings on the desk there.
The man slowly nods his head, slowly taking off his belt and placing all of his gear onto the nearby desk, including the contents of his pockets which really was not necessary as it was mostly just old discarded tissues or half empty packets of chewing gum.
Attractive Female: Good. Now, what you’re going to do is let my friend go. She's actually pretty harmless once you get to know her.
Once again the man slowly nods his head.
Attractive Female: Oh and one more thing… if anyone questions what you’re doing or even investigates what Cheyenne did earlier today too much… I want you to take that gun there, put it against their skulls and pull the trigger. Do you understand?
Again the man nods his head, turning his attention to the door already wanting to do as she had asked of him. The chubby police officer leaves the room, the glamorous woman striding behind him. They make their way to the holding cell, upon arrival the redhead stops licking the dirty steel bars and shouts ecstatically.
Cheyenne: MY Queen! MY Queen has came to free me, free lil Cheyenne from her evil mommy. *tilts her head* NO, no I can't go to the homes, though. Me belong besides my Queen.
Once the gate is open the burgundy beaut goes to hug the woman’s leg, but is briskly walked out of the station. Once the front doors shut behind the two beautiful women, many gunshots were heard echoing down the street.
]https://youtu.be/SF5ouPgGFyU video
Cheyenne: Are we going, going to the homes? I don’t want to be adopted. I love you my Queen!
Lilith: Cheyenne, I am in no mood for your bullshit.
The red head breaks the grip on her arm,and slides her hand to where she is now walking hand in hand with her queen. Many bystanders look on, some in disgust other in intrigue. Lilith looks down at Cheyennes hand still in shock at what the redhead had just done by thinking she could just hold hands with her like this. Instantly filling up with rage, Lilith turns on Cheyenne, grabbing her around her throat, digging her black painted nails into her flesh and picking her up off the floor and pinning her against a nearby building. Cheyenne wriggles a bit as Lilith practically snarls into the girl's face.
Lilith: DO NOT FUCKING DO THAT AGAIN!!! DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND ME?!! Let's get one thing fucking clear right now, you NEED me! I do not and will never need you!
Cheyenne’s eyes become that of a beaten child’s as Lilith loosens her grip allowing the the redhead back down onto her feet. Lilith was not done though as she continues to look at Cheyenne in disgust, who was desperately gasping for air.
Lilith: Earlier this week I asked that weak little man, Seth Lerch, to book us in a match together figuring that hey maybe for just once you won't be so fucking worthless. And what happens?! I have to break you out of fucking jail, that's what happens! Just where exactly does getting arrested come into your plans when it comes to killing these two worthless little shits Dag and Pomp?! I don't fucking need you getting arrested! I need you getting your fucking shit together so we can fucking MURDER a bunch of weak little shits!!! Do you fucking understand me?!!
Cheyenne has slumped back, like an abused dog. She goes to speak, but catches herself and runs to the driver side door, opening it for her Queen.
Cheyenne: My apologies my Queen.
After Lilith gets into the car, slamming the door in the burgundy beauties face, Cheyenne runs to her side and barely gets in before the angry brunette speeds off.
Cheyenne: Are we going to hurt dirty old goat man? Goat man touched me. I..I had to hurt goat man. Like we hurt nerdy virgins. Goat man and cookie man need to DIE!
The red head begins slamming her head off the dash, and screaming DIE! Over and over again. Lilith finally places her arm on Cheyennes shoulder and pushes her gently back against her car seat.
Lilith: Fucking stop that, Chey. Jesus christ I used to think that Oblivion was weird…
Cheyenne stops upon hearing the word weird and begins to uncontrollably laugh as Lilith spins the steering wheel, the car's tires screeching as they zoom around a corner, now heading down a rather dark desolate backroad.
Lilith: This week we’re facing Dag Riddik… and yes, you’re right to call him goat man because he DEFINITELY is that. And that fucking little geek bitch Psychopomp! Urghhhhhhh just the mere thought of that guy makes my blood BOIL!!!
Cheyenne: Mmmmm boil, boil cookie man. Then we can ice him. Hmmm boiled cookie man sounds yummy *giggles*
Lilith: Speaking of that cookie monster wannabe fucking nerd… what actually happened to you the other day after we had our fun with him? You remember? When we forced him to choke on his precious cookies? I turned around to grab a drink from the vending machine and when I came back you were lying down on the floor. The hell happened?! I know Kevin and Karma didn't do a damn thing to you, those guys couldn’t hurt a fly.
Cheyenne: Weird shield man hit me, weird shield man will MALPRG OE DONASDOGAMATASTOS!
The crimson haired woman begins to nudge her head against the brunettes arm. Lilith just lifting an eyebrow as she watches the redhead acting strange again.
Lilith: First of all… Dion hurt you?! Don’t think for a damn second that Imma forget about that! And secondly… I’ve been meaning to ask, when you yell stuff like that are you actually saying things? Like is it a foreign language or something? Or are you just saying stupid fucking nonsense like …. her. Urghhhhhh. I swear to god if you start saying shit like “happiful” and all that other bullshit…
Cheyenne bursts out laughing at what Lilith had just said.
Cheyenne: My Queen, you are both funny and beautiful.
The strange woman licks Lilith’s face. Lilith, instantly filled with rage and disgust, angrily pushes Cheyenne away from her… almost causing her to swerve and crash her car.
Lilith: WHAT THE FU---
Cheyenne: Stupid...stupid...stupid!
The woman begins scratching into her own pale freckled face.
Cheyenne stops abruptly: It’s the language of my master. My master is a powerful being.
Lilith wasn’t listening, she was far too angry by what Cheyenne had done to her just moments ago.
Lilith: I swear to fucking god if you ever TOUCH ME again, I will cut your tongue off with a rusty fucking knife! Do you understand me?!!
Cheyenne: *moans* Kinnnnkkkkyyy, my Queen… mmmmm yes my Queen.
Suddenly Cheyenne’s face changes to that all too familiar glazed over look as she then grabs the wheel and pulls it towards her, hard.
Cheyenne: MY BABIES! My Queen, we must go get my babies!!!!!
She begins to hysterically bawl and goes back to banging her head on the dashboard. Lilith struggles to regain control of her car after Cheyenne nearly just caused them to crash straight into a nearby ditch.
Lilith: WHAT THE FUCK?!!! Chey don’t fucking do that you fucking lunatic!!! Are you trying to kill us both or something?!! And since when do you have babies…
Cheyenne: Creepy, crawly. My babies *sobs* My babies were left at the motel. Yummy, crunchy babies. *Instantly stops sobbing and shouts* I NEED THEM!
The petite girl begins digging a fingernail into the dash board carving a pentagram into it.
Cheyenne innocent like: They were my only friends, my Queen. I need them.
Lilith soon realizes exactly what Cheyenne is talking about is SLAMS her foot on the brake, causing the car to come to a screeching halt. Luckily no one was behind them or they would have definitely been rear ended as she stopped so abruptly. Lilith tries to stop herself from throwing up as she looks over at Cheyenne, who she now can't help but picture having bugs stuck in between her teeth.
Lilith: Oh my god you’re talking about your bugs aren't you. WHY THE HELL DO YOU EAT THAT?!! THAT IS DISGUSTING!!! Chey…
Cheyenne: MY BABIES ARE NOT DISGUSTING!!
Cheyenne's face twist and she begins to cry again.
Cheyenne: But.. but they are gross. Gross I don’t want to eat them mommy. *sniffles and stops crying* Yes, Yes mommy it's what I deserve. All I deserve. But..but they are my friends mommy.
The weird woman looks defeated and sobs quite a bit.
Cheyenne: Fine mommy, I’ll eat my friends.
Cheyenne looks straight ahead now, very distant look in her emerald orbs. Lilith just continues to stare at the redhead unsure of what to actually say to her here. Eventually she breaks the silence.
Lilith: Are you actually serious right now?! You’re travelling with the world's greatest WCF legend of ALL TIME and you’re eating fucking bugs?!! Yeah that won’t do AT ALL. We are going out to dinner… and no by that I do not mean bugs! Bugs are friends, not food!
Cheyenne just looks at Lilith’s kindness with confusion, twisting her head to the side.
Cheyenne: I need my babies. *burst into laughter* Let's go find some new ones, my Queen.
Lilith sighs, hard.
Lilith: Can cookies be your new babies? You’re not eating fucking bugs… OH WAIT NO!!! Cookies can't be your new babies… Psychopomp ruined that for everyone! I used to LOVE cookies, just as much as… errrrrr… she who shall not be named… but then he had to go and ruin them. Just like he ruins everything else he touches. But like… ummmmm… bugs? Really? Can't we just go out to a steak restaurant or something? Thats eating cows… and technically that's still eating animals so you should be happy, right? We could even order goat!!! Goat man! We could eat him… sound good?
Cheyenne: Mmmmmmm fried goat, yes eat goat man then get me new babies. *Mwauh*
Cheyenne ecstatic, kisses Lilith causing her to swerve again. Once again Lilith fills up with rage, causing her to lash out at Cheyenne to push her away from her.
Lilith: WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT FUCKING TOUCHING ME?!! WHAT THE HELL DID I FUCKING SAY?!!
Cheyenne: Umm sorry my Queen, please. Please don't hit me, it was just a kiss.
The freckled face woman cringes a bit into her seat as Lilith desperately tries to keep her cool.
Lilith: You’re lucky I’m driving right now is all I’m going to say! You’re so fucking lucky! If I wasn't teaming with you this week… urghhhhhhh!
Desperately trying to keep her calm, Lilith looks over at Cheyenne who was clearly oblivious to how annoying she was being right now.
Lilith: You know what, I’m starving and we still need to discuss our match properly. I’m not going to let your… bizarreness… cause us to lose this Sunday. We’re going out to eat! You… ummmmm… you got anything nicer to wear than what you’ve got on right now?
Lilith takes Cheyenne back to the motel to get her things. Strangely no cops were there and the girl's belongings along with the body were still there. Cheyenne changes into a green halter top and some fresh jeans. After patting the deceased De’Angelo on the head, Chey reached down and tucked her small satchel into the front of her jeans.
Cheyenne: I wouldn't kill my Queen. Even when she talk like football pig. Let's go eat goat and cookies.
Cheyenne hugs Lilith tightly, against Lilith's will, then skips out the door, smiling ear to ear. Lilith shakes her head, clearly growing more and more annoyed.
For the next half an hour or so, as Lilith drove the two of them to the nearby restaurant she had found on Tripadvisor, she had sat in silence doing nothing but trying to figure out exactly what Cheyenne had meant when she called her a football pig. She really didn't want to ask her though as she knew it would only lead to the redhead doing something else quite strange. Finally they arrived at the restaurant and Lilith could see that it was indeed a rather fancy looking steak house, one which she hoped Cheyenne would be impressed by too. The couple parked and exited the car, making their way inside the restaurant.
Lilith: You ever been in a place like this before, Chey?
Before Cheyenne could respond a waitress approaches them ready to seat the couple.
Waitress: Just the two of you tonight, ladies?
Lilith rolls her eyes at the waitress.
Lilith: You can count can't you? We’ll take a table over by the window, thanks!
Embarrassed by what Lilith had just said to her the young girl lead the couple over to the tables allocated by the large window, which had the company's logo all over it. Lilith and Cheyenne took their seats, the waitress standing by waiting for the girls to place a drinks order.
Lilith: Just give me a water, I don't trust your shitty establishment not to poison me… tap water! You know what? I can't even trust you to do that. You’re fucking useless.
Waitress: I--- I’m sorry, I don't--- would you like a bottle of water?
Lilith: Yes I want a bottle of fucking water! And fetch me some wet wipes too, I don't trust you… Miss thinks she's too good to wash her hands! What do you want, Chey?
Cheyenne: Blood! Bloody drink. Mmmm
The woman puts her face close to the table as her left index finger drew circles on the table. She slid a hand in to the front of her pants, and the waitress gasped and ran off. Once the woman turned her back, Chey popped a roach into her mouth.
Cheyenne: Mmmm yummy. Yummy babies. I never been allowed to go to nice places with mommy. Thank you. Thank you my Queen.
The girls eyes suddenly sadden.
Cheyenne: You're not getting rid of me? Are you getting rid of me, my Queen?
Lilith once again rolls her beautiful golden eyes at Cheyenne, getting tired of being asked if she was going to dump the red head. She’d never known anyone have such a troubled past that it still haunted them so much to this very day, honestly, It made Lilith feel sorry for her.
Lilith: No, Chey, I may get super fucking furious with you from time to time but that doesn't change the fact that I’m teaming with you this Sunday… and I guess you ARE kind of my tag partner for the foreseeable future… so you can stop thinking such nonsense! I do want to know where the hell you got that bug from though! I mean I take you to an expensive restaurant and you’re sat there eating bugs… I mean, I know the food here is probably completely fucking terrible but that's taking it a bit far don't you think?
Lilith reaches into her bra and pulls out a small, but extremely expensive, digital camera. She plays around with it for a short while before setting it down on the table in front of her ready to record.
Lilith: Chey, we need to record some footage for the WCF Network. I know, I know… I think it's stupid too… but it's just one of those things that Seth wants us all to do… the freaking retard. Sooooo Imma be your interviewer, okay? I’ll just ask you a bunch of questions and you sit there and say the first thing which comes to your pretty little head, okay?
Cheyenne pulls another roach and pops it in like popcorn. The woman then gets really close to the camera, her green eye filling the shot.
Cheyenne: Do..do I have to get naked?
Lilith: Where the hell are you getting those things?! And no, no you don't… but to be honest, if you did, it’d probably boost our ratings a bit…
Cheyenne: Umm ok, if it's what he wants.
Chey goes to lift up her shirt but the waitress comes back and freaks out.
Waitress: MA'AM!!! This is a family restaurant!
Cheyenne stares daggers at the woman as the waitress sets the drinks down and slowly steps away. Cheyenne is in a cute lacey bra, and men all over the restaurant are being slapped by their wives for staring at the petite beauty's body.
Cheyenne: Ok my Queen if it helps. What do you want to know my Queen?
Lilith settles the camera comfortably into the palm of her hand and turns it onto herself, hitting the little red record button.
Lilith: WCF Galaxy! Hi! Its me, the greatest WCF legend of all time… Lilith! Now this week I will be teaming up with a very good friend of mine, a newbie here in the WCF, but a girl I know has a bright, bright career ahead of her here in this very federation… Cheyenne. And we’ll be going against the easily forgettable Dag Riddik and the guy who ruined cookies for everyone… Psychopomp! This isn't about me though, this is all about her…
Lilith turns the camera to show a half naked Cheyenne, who is still sitting in her bra unaware of what Lilith is currently doing.
Lilith: I’m just nice enough to be her interviewer tonight! Now… a lot of you perverts may be wondering why she's currently sitting half naked… and the simple answer to that is that she's doing it just to keep you all happy. THAT is how nice she is! And my first question for you, my sweet Cheyenne, is… just how much does the WCF Galaxy mean to you?
Cheyenne: The galaxy? I am but a meager stain on in the galaxy. I deserve to be punished! I will break you all!
Cheyenne pulls a cockroach out and lets it run around her hand before slamming it down into the table, scaring the nearby customers and squirting brown juices all over the tabletop.
Lilith: I… errrrrrrrrr… I think what she's trying to say is, she is in awe that she gets to do what she does and have so many adoring fans love and support her! Ummmmmm, okay… next question… and I know it's a big one because i've heard lots of people ask about it previously… what is with the bugs and where do you find them all?
Cheyenne: THEY ARE MY BABIES!!!!
Chey yells, then licks the juices off the table.
Cheyenne: and they build muscle. Mmmmm protein builds muscle. My babies make me strong. Strong to beat the goat man! And his cookie boy..
Lilith: Right, and talking of cookie boy… this past Slam you were seen by, greatest WCF legend of all time, Lilith's, side getting ambushed by this very man and then assaulted by his boyfriend Dion Negrorat… what are your thoughts?
Cheyenne burps a raunchy aroma fills the air as she giggles: Um, lil brotherhood. A group of men depending on men. That's worse than a woman needing to depend on a man. Silly men, and their leader, yes the leader. My Queen beats your bishop any day, lowly knight and cookie boy.
Lilith: So you’re ready to step into the ring with Psychopomp this Slam? Care to tell us how you plan on going about beating him?
Cheyenne: Break them! I will snap their bones one by one. Bend the fingers back, stomp the hand back. Mmmmmmmm snap the arm back, and rip his leg from its socket. Mmmmmm *laughs maniacally*
Although you can't see her do it as the camera is focused solely onto Cheyenne, you can tell that Lilith is nodding her head at the young redhead, approvingly.
Lilith: Right which brings us onto Dag Riddik. Now, when you first appeared in this federation he made some comments towards you, he was clearly interested in starting a romantic relationship with you… all because of your foreign roots… thoughts on this?
Cheyenne: GOAT MAN TOUCHED ME! I killed goat man. He a dirty old man. Dirty,dirty he wants me for my body, my hair. Goat man will get my hands, my hands wrapped around his ugly old chauvinistic neck as i break it.
The freckled face womans pale face takes on a red tint and she whips out the satchel from her blue jeans sending roaches all over her lap.
Dumping the roaches onto the table cheyenne then calmly says: Then my babies will feast on goat man and cookie boy.
Customers yell and run from the restaurant, but Cheyenne laughs and snacks on the bugs as if they were a bowl of chips.
Lilith: Sooooooooo what you’re saying is… you’re definitely NOT interested in any form of relationship with him?
Cheyenne with a mouth full of bugs, some try to crawl out as she chews them: I’d rather have you my queen.
Lilith: I… errrrrrr… ummmmmm… NEXT QUESTION!!! Cheyenne, this will be your first official debut match on Slam. Of course the match you told me about at this “thirteen” never actually happened, what with it being imaginary and all… soooooo this is your WCF debut match! How do you feel?
Cheyenne: Tired my Queen. This fancy place bores me. Can't we go do something, something more fun. *giggles as she gathers her roaches.*
Lilith: Errrrrrr, what do you have in mind?
Cheyenne: Whips, chains, pain, all fun things my Queen.
Cheyenne leaps up from the chair, knocking it over and shoves the satchel back into her jeans. Cheyenne then dangles the 203 motel key in front of her Queen. And winks.
Spider's Web
Freak.
She has no friends.
She smells funny.
Why are her clothes so big.
Why she smell funny.
That skank doesn't have any parents.
OMG she'll never get a date.
I hear she yells rape.
She'll never hold a job.
Devil bitch.
WTF is her problem.
Nut job.
Eats nasty shit.
Scrawny bitch.
Insane.
The midtown Chicago apartment, with its familiar disheveled living room, complete with over turned suede ripped love seat. Clothes thrown everywhere, and the attached kitchen still had gnats and roaches crawling over dishes that look months old. Near fall wall staring out a grimy brown and yellow stained second floor window, sat a pasty freckled faced red head. The woman’s petite frame was dressed in tattered white t shirt and torn bell bottom jeans. The woman known as Cheyenne had her cascading crimson locks astrew as she watched intently as her new “baby girl”, a black widow spider, set in its web awaiting its prey.
Cheyenne: Baby...baby...baby. You… are much like I am. We both are small. Both deadly. Both mostly silent. People fear us. As they should. Never underestimate the small...and dangerous.
Many roaches are rushing and scrambling around in the flickering of the overhead hanging bulb. The roaches had the numbers, their brown exoskeletons protected them from most perils that in their universe. The redhead got eye level with the scurrying insects, a few braver ones even crept up to her long lashes and stared into her emerald orbs. Her eyes flick up as a black and yellow hornet flies into the web. It powers out but gets trapped again shortly after, and not able to escape again.
Cheyenne: Roaches, ants Beeees, hornets. Mmmmmmmmm all so common. Typical, lil babys act tough when in numbers. Cookie cutter like even. All are similar. But you...my darlings. You are at least better than Jason...Jaaaaaaassssssssooon O’Neal.
The woman runs her small palms down her b cupped chest as she say the man's name.
Cheyenne: Mmmmmmmmmmmm At least when i cut off your heads,
She raises her face as she takes a jagged broken nail and slices the head off one of the roaches she called her babies, while staring at the hornet. The others scatter as their fallen comrade is sucked dry of its brown gooey insides.
Cheyenne: You have substance on the inside. O’Neal...Jason. Jason is a cookie cutter avarice filled kingpin. Mmmmmmmm I… I don't… hornet man does not have substance. He just kills and...Drugssssssss…. It takes no talent to shoot a man point blank. To kill the way he kills. Overdosing...numbing, Mind numbing drugs. None will will help when I SNAP YOUR FUCKING ARM!
The redhead yells loudly and more roaches scatter at the sudden burst of sound and rumblings of the freckled hands slamming into the faded chipped window seal. A few ran into the web and were immediately stuck next to the struggling hornet that was buzzing furiously.
Cheyenne: Gluttony is also a sin in the eyes of your lord, pig man. Ahhahahahahaha Fat ass…..
The crimson haired crazed one begins to rock back and forth as a large greenish blue beetle lands on the windowsill. She cocks her head and begins yelling at the hard carapaced creature.
Cheyenne: YOU MAY BE BIGGER! Fatter...stronger..but a unintelligent blob of meat. Fodder for the masses, like a cow going to the slaughter. I..I will end you with the precision...the pinpoint precision of attacks that….even your mastodon like skin can not defend you from being broken as well.
Cheyenne throws her head back and laughs before suddenly going eerily quiet and snapping down face level with the large beetle. She puffs her gorgeous freckled pale cheeks and blows the beetle gently into the spider's web next to the hornet just above the handful of roaches.
Cheyenne: You..may be an ass man. But this is one *puts her finger into her mouth,biting down on her fingernail and spoke through gritted teeth* one that will destroy you with the power from down below.
Cheyenne pulls her finger from her mouth, the tip bleeding from where she had gnawed the finger nail to short. Shortly after a small fly comes buzzing in and is trapped near the other ensnared pest.
Cheyenne: Awwweee. Yes little West. Jay West...Super kicks..out of nowhere O’Neal and you...most overused move. Undeserving to be in this match. West just go east and avoid being broken by Satan’s minion. My Master..
Cheyenne moans as the light flickers again and we can see the widow descending upon its prey. Red sways back and forth getting closer to the open window and watching the much smaller spider inject its poison and roll up its enemies. The thick sticky webbing held tight, the strong beatle thick exoskeleton and all couldn't break it, the fly and its speed and arrow dynamics could not escape it, and the deadly hornet could not fight out of it. All fail victim to the steadfast webbing and the instantly death dealing venom.
Cheyenne: My Master from the hells below, will rule this miserable planet one day, one day the world shall burn as she melts the faces off the corrupted men of this planet. The men shall all perish in her light, and I...I shall start with you three pathetic pest. Alpha champ...alpha champ… you should have cashed that in while had the chance..I will snap…
She giggles as she quickly snatches the web and all from the window.
Cheyenne: Snap, all your bones. One two...fatass two. West, Rump, O’Neal…. The itsy bitsy spider….
Cheyenne crawls up the faded window sill, her breast grazing the flaking white paint chips shooting some into her shirt. She quickly turns as she stands looking away from the window, moving the handful of protein closer to her mouth.
Cheyenne: Cheyenne IS COMING FOR YOU!!!!!!!!
With that she tosses her head back and shoves the bug cocktail into her mouth, guts and web trickle out of her green painted lips like semen from a greedy pornstars money shot.
Fatality
The rain beat down on the loose soil freshly place on plot 169 Brookwood Cemetery. Emerald green eyes burst open followed by dark painted green lips gasping for air. The petite hands begin digging diligently, scratching their small red painted fingernails into the hard seemingly impenetrable wooden structure holding the fiery female wrestler known as Cheyenne.
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A feminine fist slams into the coffin lid, followed by more scratching, punching and digging. The Fiery survivor's deranged brain does not panic, just methodically fights to exit this prison. She racks her riddled brain to think back to how she came to be 6 feet under. Last she remembered was being destroyed by that Amber chick, and wondering where her Queen was. After a few hours her digging reaps a slight result as dirt begins to trickle onto her blood encrusted face. When she escapes this, she will never trust another soul again. Men and women both equally betray you. She headbutts the weakened structure meant to contain death and the door splits pouring dirt in.
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Hours go by before freckled faced freak begins gasping for air again as her right arm and face breach the earth's surface. She crawls from her grave, and looks around. A small laminated piece of paper at her dirty, naked feet draws in her piercing angry eyes. Slowly she bends and picks up the now apparent plane ticket. The ticket reads round trip, Rod Bilson. Who is this Rod person and how is he linked to her being buried in England. Cheyenne kneels by her former grave and prays.
Cheyenne: O sacrifice l'tozz xa zoga haeng lucifer, maen I trael iq loz esaeu yoq tadq za ohiwa.
The dirty female grabs a handful of loose soil as she promises a sacrifice to her lord, and runs the hand filled with dirt down her bloody face and over her small breast before releasing it back to the ground below. Tired, and weak the nude woman began to shamble towards town. The town is a small place, not overly busy and surrounded by leafy scenery. The cover of darkness makes it even easier for the nude woman to continue on her quest to find the man on the ticket. She finds a tourist stand and compares the home address on the plane ticket to the map. 3 hours by car, she will arrive in a day and a half if she doesn't meet any resistance or stop.
The near albino woman made one pit stop before beginning her walk. She stopped in some brush near a mile into her trip. Kneeling, the crimson haired woman spoke softly to a swarm of bees. She had broken her first rule of the road trip and became distracted.
Chey: You poor babies. Where's your queen? NO! Queens abandon you! They use you!
She yells suddenly and the most the insects begin to fly away. The wrestling entomologist grasp one of the honey makers and slowly pinches off its stinger. She puts the tail end up to her lips and sucks out the gooey insides as she stands. Many more bees fly off, but a few stand there ground stinging the crazed woman. Laughing, Little Red speaks again.
Cheyenne: Mmmmm Never trust anyone. They will turn on you. Eat you. Devour your soul and all that makes you… Special.
She grabs a handful more of the bees, many sting her already bloody mitts and begins back on her trip.
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As the beautiful but filthy redhead walks towards her lamb of choice, a car pulls up beside her. The rising sun sold out her disposition and the fella in the car is all too eager to help a fully nude woman in distress it seems.
Guy: Hello miss are, are you alright?
Chey stops and slowly turns towards the car, popping a crunchy critter into her luscious bloody green lips.
Guy: Umm is this some kind of cosplay? I mean you kinda look like a Poison Ivy.
As the woman slides into the vehicle without taking an eye off the sharp dressed man, he quickly can tell it's real blood and dirt.
Guy: Um.. uh. Were you raped? Do you need a doctor?
Chey snaps. Her already bloodied fist slams into the man's dash upon hearing the word raped. She repeatedly hits the guy dash yelling no father! I’m sorry father!
The man, who is larger but not by a lot restrains Cheyenne.
Guy: Whoa whoa whoa miss. Hey I didn't mean to upset you. Where are you headed I will take you there.
As the pasty skinned woman shows the ticket with her sacrifices address, the man is texting his Doctor friend. The friend suggest bringing her in, and they will do a physical and mental evaluation. Putting his phone away slowly the man looks at Chey and tells her everything will be ok.
Cheyenne: Good. I must sacrifice Rod Bilson for the greater good.
With that the fiery maned dame collapses back into a sleep, with her would be hero strapping her seat belt around her, more for his safety than hers.
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Cheyenne awakens to the hero and a doctor trying to maneuver her into a straight jacket, still in the man's car. The diminutive female freed an arm and swiftly drives her pinky finger into the doctor's eye as the squishing of soft eye tissue is accompanied by the woman's small phalangeal bone breaking as well.. As the man screams and stumbles back in pain, Red slams her elbow into the driver's head. After three more sharp elbow strikes and a groin kick to the reappearing doctor, Cheyenne frees herself and slides into the driver's position. The car's owner doesn't stir under the now only half nude woman behind grinding his lifeless body as she starts the car. The Physician tries to reach for the lunatic fringe but she slams the car in reverse and floors it. The Dr goes gets sucked under the car and as the old vehicle is slammed into drive without pause, the Doc’s life is ended by the screeching of tires.
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Making great time, the unstable Satanic Mistress arrives at her destination just in time for tea. She knocks on the door, and is met by a tall goofy looking British man and his little black dog. The dog keeps barking at the woman as the man stares on.
Cheyenne: Rod Bilson?
Rod: Um yea. Ain't you, well for one your naked! For two shouldn't you be in Ohio for your match with the Doctor and Captain Hero pants?
Chey slams her left knee into the man's gut, driving all the air out of him. She raises the ticket to his face while grabbing his dark nappy hair.
Rod: I.. Have no Idea. How you got that.
The dog continues to bark and tries to bite red, but she utters something guttural at it and it takes off yipping, tail between its legs.
Cheyenne: You will explain how I got here. Why I was buried. Then. Then you will be ascended into greatness.
Rod: Pfft I already a….ugh
Chey cuts the annoying bastard off with a kick to his knee cap. She flows behind him, one small arm around his neck, the other placed atop the back his head.
Cheyenne: No Jokes. Why? Tell ME!
Rod: Bitch I hope beary much that the captain and doc straight up kill you!
Cheyenne: No Superhero, or doctor can save you. Heros and doctors are all facades to entice. Lure one into fake security, so they can take advantage of you!
She applies more pressure as she bites into the man's ear ripping it from his empty skull.
Rod: Fucccccccccck she was right you're a brutal crazy bitch! She wanted to test you. Please let me go. I am sorry.
The man wets himself and begins to cry.
Cheyenne: Fine. Something as weak as you is not a worthy sacrifice. And I have already gave my lord one today anyway go!
Cheys emerald orbs darken as her face seems to as well. The man scurries to his phone and begins to tweet: LEL stupid bitch. I showed her. Look!
Chey noticed the man and his false bravado, slammed his face into his phone. She then climbed over the stupid Brit and took his right arm assuming the position for the Woman’s Scorn. With one swift move she snaps the man’s arm as he wets himself again and cries more.
Cheyenne: Keep my name out of your mouth.
She tilts her head and chuckles.
Cheyenne: And tell her see her soon. Cheyenne… Oh Cheyenne is coming for Her!
(I have ditched the Satanic stuff in these.)