HWA Message Board: The Way Things Are

End of Havoc – 8:57 p.m. ET – Nashville, TN

Jeremy turns his head looking at Hans. Erica’s pulling on his arm but he’s like a statue until Jeremy yells at him.

(Jeremy): Just go!

Hans turns, he and Erica jumping the barricade…

Erica leads the way running to the backstage area, the cameras follow as she rushes through the back straight to the garage area with Hans beside her. She reaches her rent-a-car and opens the door. She moves to get in but Hans grabs her by the arm, spins her around in an instant his hand his around her throat in a death grip slamming her up against the car with enough force that the side window cracks, her legs dangling beneath her. She tries to speak…choking out a few words…

(Erica): Didn’t know…you were into…erotic…asphyxiation!

Hans grip tightens more crushing the words from her throat. With his other hand, he pulls the phone she handed him he tucked in his tights and dials the last number she called, shoving the phone to her face and loosening his grip just enough for her to speak. She grins at him, still gagging as the phone is answered on the other end.

(Erica): Está todo bien, y…

Before she can finish, he pulls the phone from her and ends the call, his grip tightening back on her throat. She listens as he checks in with her, that bitch of his. He seems satisfied enough pushing the end call button on the phone. A moment passes as she he stares at her, she pulls at his hand the sweat around his wrist making it impossible to grip, releases her anyway. She drops to the ground choking and gagging and he tosses her phone to the ground and smashes it with his foot in front of her, and before she can catch her breath and look up he’s gone.

The Day After Havoc – 12:57 a.m. PT – Los Angeles, CA

Her seedy, downtown bar had been packed for an early Sunday morning but most of the guests had wrapped it up and headed out. There was about an hour left before the 2:00 a.m. close, and she’d gone through more than a few drinks since she arrived hours ago. Cold, greasy, half-eaten onion rings on the table in front of her, and Carlos (her biker friend) was satisfied because about 30-minutes ago she rewarded him by sucking his dick in the bathroom before he rammed her up against the stall door and busted inside her.

(Carlos): You’re crazy you know that?

He exhaled a puff a smoke from his joint as he leaned back in the booth.

(Carlos): What the fuk you want with some gringo anyway?

(Erica): Long story.

(Carlos): Puta, that shit ain’t long…I watch the fuking show…….Eh?

He sits up with interest looking at her.

(Carlos): Real talk…he really do that shit to you?

Erica turns her head and looks at him, snatches his joint and takes a drag.

(Erica): What the fuk you think? He fuked me up Ese! Got it my head and shit and he’s protected, so I fuk with him back.

(Carlos): So you wanna fuk him and shit?

(Erica): Qué diferencia hace?

Carlos throws his hands up.

(Carlos): Hey, I’m just asking, you be out there sometimes.

(Erica): Yeah…well…fuk ‘em! They don’t give a shit about me, so I don’t give a shit about them. You watch last night?

(Carlos): Hell yeah, up until you called…we rolled out right after so I didn’t see the rest.

(Erica): You didn’t miss shit.

(Carlos): That Wolfy, that’s a funny motherfuker.

Erica snaps her head over at him, and defensively his hands go up again.

(Carlos): Damn, I’m just sayin’ calm the fuk down.

(Erica): I should have busted his fuking sack…I’m sick of his ass and that fuking “Skinky Skank” shit. You see that pendeja, Michelle come out? What the fuk she think she was about to do?

(Carlos): Hide behind that white bread looks to me.

(Erica): Parker! Sean Fuking Parker! Everybody’s boy next door, saint, if it wasn’t for his ass…

(Carlos): What were you about to do?

(Erica): What you think, I was gonna fuk his ass up, Shark too. Sean doesn’t even like their asses, I don’t know why the fuk he even got involved.

(Carlos): That little honey, that’s why…hey…you should bring her by sometime. I had a thing with this white girl once, kinda looked like her. Bitch had fuking bad gag reflex had to cut that hoe loose.

(Erica): Little Miss Mormon? That bitch could suck a baseball bat, she just plays the part…they all do. They’re all fuking liars and manipulators.

(Carlos): You going back up to New York?

(Erica): I told you before, I’m not welcomed there anymore. His ass tried to get me at Havoc though. Save Me, or whatever!

Erica Scoffs

(Erica): Can’t even save himself, and you see that fuking clown he’s with now?

(Carlos): Hell yeah, New Age Psychos back together again. I used to…

She cuts him a look again…

(Carlos): What the fuk you want? You just gone keep playing these fools or what?

(Erica): I want them to pay for what they did to me. Abusing me, lying to me, scheming and plotting against me. I should have been in that fuking Ring Master, I could have been champion but it’s a conspiracy. The Parkers are pulling all the strings and I’m the only one who’s not one of their fuking puppets.

(Carlos): Hey, when you getting back in the ring, it’s been a minute, eh? You’re fuking leg ain’t messed up no more.

He was right, in fact she’d only had one match this whole year once she was medically cleared. She smiled a little remembering putting Michelle in the hospital. Almost breaking her face with the foot rests of that wheelchair.

(Erica): You’re right, they haven’t booked me. It’s about damn time too, all them other bitches are gone…I don’t care who it is. I deserve to be on the fuking show like everybody else. See, this is exactly what I’m talking about.

Carlos is sitting there nodding at her in agreement.

(Carlos): That conspiracy shit, yeah!

Erica pulls out her phone and dials a number, she’s not expecting anyone to answer at 1:23 a.m. but wants to leave a message while its fresh in her head.

(Erica): Hey Butch…book me for Havoc…I don’t care who with. You people think you’re slick huh, trying to keep me off the shows, throw me off my ring game…I want a match like everybody else.

She ends the call and almost slams the phone on the table.

(Carlos): Fuk yeah…I can’t wait to see that shit. Your crazy ass about to fuk somebody’s shit up.

(Erica): Sean, Jeremy, Hans, Wolfy…I don’t care who it is. Gimme some of Mr. Miyagi’s prized academy students, fuk it…gimme two at the same time, I don’t care.

Carlos stands and puts his jacket on.

(Carlos): I’m out…gotta get some sleep…got work in a bit.

(Erica): Hasta luego!

Carlos gets his things and starts walking away from the table, he turns pointing at Erica.

(Carlos): Don’t forget that fukin’ Plan B shit, I don’t wanna hear no baby daddy bullshit.

Erica flips him off and he turns to leave. She pulls out a cigarette and lights it. The clock on the wall reads 1:37 a.m., the bar was closing in a few minutes anyway she might as well head out to and get home. She got in her car and decided to make a little detour. About an hour later she was pulling up in front of her mom’s house and parked. The light was on in the kitchen and she could see movement inside.

Her mom would be going to church in a few hours and she was up early every Sunday morning making Conchas to sell for their fundraising. She rolled the car window down and could smell the sweet pastry in the air. Tears filled her eyes and she cried, she sobbed so much her body shook. Her longing was too great, her family had meant everything to her. They’d turned her mother against her, she wouldn’t even see her, talk to her…only her little brother acted as some small form of communication between them.

She pulled out her butterfly knife and ran it across her leg cutting her jeans into her leg. A small streak of blood seeped into her jeans as she cut again. She thought maybe her pain would escape these wounds, maybe she could leech it out and just not feel. She goes for another cut then stops, she looks up into the rearview mirror her eyes glowing red.

(Erica/DreamMaster): We will draw their pain, feast on it. Everything they have taken, we will take back and more. Their nightmare continues, they will not triumph over us…no matter the cost.

Her eyes go back to normal, a sense of euphoria washes over her, a smile coming to her face.

(Erica): …no matter the cost!

She starts the car and pulls away, the deep gurgle of the engine is heard as she heads down the street and turns. A curtain pulls back from her mother’s kitchen window and she looks outside into the dark morning having heard the noise, but there is no one there on the street…just a car having passed by, and she returns to her Conchas as the scene fades to black.