The night air was fresh, but muggy. Even after 10:00 p.m. it was still 75 degrees out, but she needed to think, they needed to think and a loop around and back to the area might get the job done. She pulled a joint from her pocket, lit it and started walking. Havoc hadn’t been a great night, but it had proved to be a good one. She lost her match, but at least she’d had one. Her body felt good, like the engine of neglected car getting the attention it deserved her time in the gym was in a word, lubricating.

It’s hard to imagine that it’s been 8 months. 8 months since Hans twisted her ankle like some old fuker trying to open a jar of pickles. He just cranked away, turned and turned and turned, refusing to give up until he heard that pop. It had been the worst physical pain of her life; only exceeded by the immense mental pain he’d already inflicted. They’d kept her sidelined as punishment since, the conspiracy against her. Butch, Wisdom, Hans, Sean, Michelle, Miyagi…they were all in on it.

The cameraman following wondered why he was there, she had yet to say a word. Lost in thought as usual, she’d forgotten he was there, but wasn’t that the idea…to present organically. None of that scripted bullshit in other feds, everything real, everything raw. She gave in, and opened the window to her mind.

(Erica): Hola pendejos! I bet you think I’m gonna bitch about losing my match tonight huh? Sabes que? I let her win. Maybe seeing all the Olympics clips made me all sportsman-like and shit. What do I care, she’s back on a plane to Japan: maybe I’ll go there and beat her ass one day.

Her joint had done out, and she relit it and took a hit.

(Erica): Mira este!

She pulls back her hair and right at the top of her forehead is a bandage. A small seeping drop of blood on it.

(Erica): That was you Tobias, pero ese…it was worth it. You had every motherfuker in that arena fooled. When you took that mask off, I almost wet my chonies. That shit was funny as fuk. Wolfy, only got a taste of what you deserve. Did you see those kids crying?

Erica laughs, smiling broadly as she crosses the street near the Museum of World Treasures.

(Erica): “Lazy Butt Goblin” wasn’t so lazy tonight, was he Wolfy? He was quite busy whoopin’ your ass, and I loved every minute of it. Where were your stupid friends huh? Where were the Sons of Anarchy?

She scoffs, taking another hit, the last of what’s left of it.

(Erica): I see why you like your fuking animals, you act just like them. You’re that fuking puppy someone dumped on the side of the road that will follow anybody home. You latched on to the Jesse and Kratos and they abandoned you…then you went pawing at Maniac’s doors. He chooses you over me…Me!

There’s a momentary flare in her eyes, and her voice changed just slightly.

(Erica): He’ll ditch you the same way he ditched me, and then who’s next huh? Gonna curl up at the foot of Michelle’s bed and watch Sean try and get some pussy?

She was on N Mead St. and turned onto E 2nd N. There was music, and laughter; the smell of food wafted in the air and she saw Pumphouse. A local bar and restaurant, and as she passed it looked like classic American food. She looked at her watch and let out an exhausted expression, it was just about time for her to turn back and get her rental before they close the garage at the arena. She continued on for a few more blocks and turned onto N. Ohio Ave.

Up ahead a woman and two kids were standing on the sidewalk staring at a building. A toddler asleep on her shoulder, the other no more than two holding her hand, his little eyes blinking slowly, exhausted. He had to stand, she just couldn’t carry two. As she got closer it was clear that the woman was in tears. She turned her head looking at the building the woman was staring at, St Anthony Family Shelter.

(Erica): Hey…hey lady…what the fuk you going in there for?

The woman turned her head, and her floodgates release. Her husband had been laid off by Spirit Aerosystems in May. They’d had a nice living, but he’d secretly made some bad decisions with their money trying to cover up the severity of the situation and now everything was gone. Their house was in foreclosure, and he’d taken a downward spiral into deep depression and had become abusive. She’d taken his violent outbursts, but when he lashed out at their children, she ran, and here she was. She had no family here and was too embarrassed to reach out to friends. Too embarrassed to go inside and ask for help so there she stood on the sidewalk.

Erica cried with her as she looked at her children. Hot, tired and probably hungry. She reached into her pocket and handed the woman all her money. She had just over $1,000 cash and gave it to the woman who looked at her as if she were an angel. They hugged, cried together and for the first time in her ordeal the woman saw hope. They talked a bit more, and she built up the courage to push past pride and go inside the shelter…only for the night to think things through. Erica saw them to the door, they hugged once more and were gone. As she walked back to the sidewalk a piece of folded paper was on the ground. Looked like the woman dropped some old bills, she put it in her pocket and picked her pace up heading back to the arena.

(Erica): That’s all you fukers do is abuse women. One way or another you ruin lives and carry on living your banning together in brotherhood…all of you. Hans what you did to me…I fuking hate you, and I want you so bad, you fuked up my head. Butch Parker protects you though, you didn’t get fired, he didn’t even reprimand you. He probably gave you a high-five because you made the ratings go up.

Anger was now building inside her as her tears continued. She needed to cut, to feel, to release. Had to get back to the arena, to her rental car.

(Erica): You Wolfy, you’re a bully, I said it before. Calling people names, teaching kids to be bullies, teaching kids that being verbally abusive people is acceptable, encouraging them. You learned tonight that bullies always get what’s coming to them.

You Sean, and Jeremy and Matt…pretending to be my friend when the truth is no one could ever penetrate your little trifecta. The cherished ones. You know how fuking sick I was hearing old Miyagi constantly calling you ####ers “the future?” What about me?

I busted my ass as much and more than the three of your combined. He brings some Japanese girl in tonight like she was going to put me in my place or something. That was all you guys scheming plan wasn’t it? I lost the match, so fuking what, but I will win this war.

She’s at a light jog and the cameraman tries hard to keep up as they turn onto N. Emporia Ave, the arena was a straight shot down from here. Something in her head echoed. An offer, no… a promise, and she found herself involuntarily speaking the words out loud.

(Erica): “…we could be the first male and female tag team to win some gold…” “…I’ll help you win Ring Master…”

She cried so hard she could barely see, all the city lights had starburst in her eyes, blurs and blares of light.

(Erica): You used me Maniac, lied to me, and threw me away when I wouldn’t do what you wanted, when I needed you the most. You know my condition, I went to your fuking doctors, you just wanted to be done, to wash your fuking hands of your failed experiment.

There it was, the Intrust Bank Arena. Inside the screw was tearing down the show, fans had long gone, but they were still in there. After a few minutes she’d made it back and inside and went straight for the Parker’s office. They weren’t there but inside were their kids and some woman supervising them. It looked like they had packed and were ready to head out shortly.

(Woman): You can’t be in here!

(Erica): Bitch don’t tell me where I can be. Where are they? Where is Butch?

(Woman): Mr. and Mrs. Parker are with the arena staff doing the closeout paperwork.

Erica turns to leave but then her eyes catch something. Their son was coloring in yellow on a bearded dragon image and their daughter had a bit of clay she had proudly made an impressive elephant with.

She snatched them both. Ripping the coloring paper and mushing the clay elephant in her hand tossing them to the floor. Their daughter frowned, her fists balled up, the boy just looked at his torn art on the floor and he had sadness in his voice.

(David): Mr. Wolfy gave that to me.

(Erica): Fuk Mr. Wolfy!

(Evina): You’re gonna pay for that, my mom is…

Erica’s eyes flare, the red burning intensity unleashed and the woman steps in front of David and Evina.

(Erica/DreamMaster): You’re mommy is going to do shit little girl, and neither is your daddy, or anybody else. Not even this bitch they left you with.

They smash their fist into the woman’s face. She howls in pain, and fear as blood spurts from her broken nose.

(Erica/DreamMaster): See?

They smile at the kids, turn and leave the room. Seconds later the door opens and Evina steps into the hall.

(Evina): I’m gonna tell, I’m gonna tell and you’ll get fired, watch!

Seconds later David is beside his sister and takes her hand.

(David): I’m gonna tell too…I’m gonna tell my Uncle Sean. He said, if anybody messed with me I could tell him and he’d come to school and beat them up.

They turn, but it’s not them anymore…only it, only him, and a horrifying smile.

(DreamMaster): I’d like that! I’d like to see him try!

Fast footsteps are heard down the hall. The woman inside still howling in paid had called security and any moment this place would be filled with them and probably the Parkers. They headed back to the garage, ran to their rental and sped out of the garage. As they got adjusted in the seat they pulled a piece of paper from their pocket. It was that woman’s sad bank statement and a cable bill. A thought occurred, a delightful, wonderful thought. The address was entered into the GPS and they sped down the street.

The day after Havoc…

Back in Los Angeles, and some time in the later afternoon Erica had just finished a workout, had some lunch and was browsing shit on her phone. Due to recent searches all the suggested items came up but one caught her eye. The heading of a link to a news article from Wichita, and she clicked it.

“Authorities seek public’s help identifying Eastborough man”

The article went on to say… “brutally beaten, his body found in the early morning in College Hill Park.” It detailed the hospital he was at and the police’s efforts trying to find a suspect and any details that leading up to the incident. Erica grinned putting her phone down. Her eyes turned red and he laughed, and laughed, and laughed as the scene fades to black.