Post by Eden Morgan on Apr 29, 2017 21:18:26 GMT -5
New Orleans
April 27, 2017
“So you're going tomorrow?”
“Yep.”
“Cutting it kinda close, aren't you? We fly out Saturday morning for Canada--”
“I know the schedule, Jet. It's strategic.”
Jet Somers casts a critical glance at the woman who was simultaneously like a sister to him and also his best friend. Eden shifts her eyes at him, silently daring him to say something contrary to the point she had been trying to make. Jet laughs, taking the dare.
“Strategic. Yeah right, you're a chicken.”
“Bawk, bawk,” Eden retorts, her quick grin fading.
“You really think it's going to go badly?” Jet asks seriously, Eden shrugging.
“I don't know what to expect. I don't like not knowing,” she says softly, Jet slinging and arm over her shoulders and giving her a half-hug.
“Promise me that if they lock me away again, you'll come get me,” Eden whispers against his shoulder, blinking past the tears that were suddenly filling her eyes. Jet looks down, alarmed at the tone of vulnerability in her voice, pulling her in for a more full hug.
“I'll come get you,” he says, Eden hugging him tight before pushing him away from her.
We claimed fatigue and retreated to Killian's rooms, but I don't think we were fooling anyone. We had little time or interest in sleep.
Killian's body and actions during the regrettably short hours of the night belied his assurances that there was nothing to worry about tomorrow. But in those hours, in the way his body worshiped at mine and mine, in turn, worshiped at his, he made me forget there even would be a tomorrow. And then, after we'd had our fill of each other, we simply lay together in silence, my head on his chest as his fingertips lazily stroked unplanned designs over the skin of my back and shoulders. His heartbeat told me more than words could say. Sometimes it was the soothing, calm lubdub that simply said "I am here, hold on to me"; at others, it sped up, and I knew not long after he would move his hand to my head and press it tighter to him, mussing my hair even more in the process, and bestow a fierce kiss on me.
I knew then, despite his pretending, he was as concerned as I was. He just wouldn't voice it in order to provide me with the strength I needed to get through this day.
Sometime in the early morning hours, we fell asleep in a tangled mass of limbs, our bodies never straying from the other during the night. I awoke still clinging to him, the rise and fall of his breathing causing his fingers to make the most delicate of movements over my skin. I suppressed the shiver that ran through me, wanting nothing more than to snuggle in and stay right where I was, forever, to ignore the outside world and all that awaited there.
But it wasn't who we were. Killian was not a man to hide from anything, no matter how unpleasant. I loved him for that, and for so many other reasons, many of which others would scoff at to learn such attributes belonged to this man. They knew the man he showed them, the face he showed the world; they had no idea of the man behind that face, the man I saw as soon as the cameras were off and the public eye was shut.
They would never know that man, and I simultaneously mourned them their unwitting loss and exulted in the secret that was mine and mine alone.
Not long after we fell asleep, I arose from the disheveled bed we shared, slipping from his grasp carefully and quietly. Killian slept on, unaware that he was the only occupant of the bed now. The shower I took was quick, though I wanted to linger beneath the cascade of hot water and hide myself within the steam, but the longer I took to get ready, the greater the chance for him to awaken and find me gone. I knew Killian had every intention of coming with me, but it was better this way, better that I face this particular future alone. I would rather he not be marred with the memories should they turn out to be unpleasant.
And so it came to pass that mere hours after we had found such heights in one another's arms, I slipped from the room, unable to cast even the most fleeting of glances back.
New Orleans
April 28, 2017
The sun was only in the beginning stages of its daily climb when Eden Morgan found herself standing outside the main building of River Oaks Hospital. The place looked less like a hospital and more like a chic, multi-level office. It was an effective facade, giving the visitor a false sense of ease and welcome that most hospitals just weren't able to accomplish.
But that was the outside.
Eden stands on the sidewalk, unconsciously occupying the exact place she had on that day a little over a year ago when Jet and Cypress had come to bring her home after her months here, in this place. A chill runs over her and she shivers, knowing it had nothing to do with the warm April morning in New Orleans. But memories-- she tamps them down, schooling her features, the foremost thought in her mind that the sooner this was over and done with, the sooner she could get back to Killian and her life. With that thought firmly in mind, she pushes through the door.
The interior was just as warm and inviting as the outside, a desk set up to draw the eye to the center, a young woman just sitting down, a cup of coffee in hand. She purses her lips as she blows on the hot liquid to cool it enough to sip.
“Hello and welcome to River Oaks, if you'll just have a seat, visiting will begin in an hour--”
“I'm not here to visit, I-- have an appointment. Dr. Bramlet,” Eden cuts the woman off, tucking her hair behind her ear self-consciously. The woman nods and turns to the computer on the desk, the click-clacking of her fingers on the keyboard echoing in the quiet around them. Eden glances around and above her, down the halls that branch off of this main area like spokes on a wagon wheel, knowing that the same happened with the floors above.
“Name, please?” the woman asks.
“Eden Morgan.”
The woman raises an eyebrow but says nothing as her eyes scan the screen. She smiles brightly and looks to Eden.
“Yes ma'am, I have you down right here, if you'll just wait a few moments, I'll call to the back and someone will be out to escort you to the office.”
Eden nods, feeling her heart thudding in her chest. Some part of her had hoped that the visit with Dr. Bramlet would be a mere perfunctory sort of thing, something to make sure paperwork was completed. She had envisioned walking in, him walking out to meet her, an exchange of pleasantries, her signature on a couple of papers, and that was that. She hadn't really believed it would be that easy, but it had been a pleasant consideration, even if a brief one.
“Ma'am?”
Eden is jolted from her thoughts by the young woman calling to her, Eden looking from her to the nurse standing just a few feet before her, holding open a door that lead down one of the many hallways. The nurse smiles in welcome, Eden swallowing hard and having to force herself to move toward the open doorway, her movements seeming to slow as if the very air around her had thickened and she were having to fight through it. Of course, that was only what it seemed like, she was actually moving quite normally.
Get it together.
Eden flashes a return smile to the nurse, fighting down the rising panic as the door closes behind her, the internal lock clicking into place.
“And how have you been, Ms. Morgan?” the nurse asks, Eden's eyes flitting down to the name badge at her chest. Joy, it read, Eden straining to recall anything about the nurse from her time there before, coming up with nothing.
“Great,” Eden blurts out, Joy nodding and then leading the way down the hallway, past several other offices, the doors closed on a few of them. Eden could hear voices, hushed tones coming through the doors, unable to make out any of the words said, the voices simply a blended together buzzing.
“Here we are. Dr. Bramlet will be in shortly, Ms. Morgan. Please have a seat,” Joy says, placing the file she had been carrying carefully on the desk seated in front of an expanse of windows. Eden takes a seat, her focus on the file before her.
“Alright,” Eden says, Joy quickly departing, shutting the door partly behind her. Eden glances at the door and then back at the file, her curiosity eating at her. She forces herself to remain in her chair, thankful she had done so when the door opens admitting a familiar face.
“Ms. Morgan, it's good to see you again,” Dr. Bramlet shakes her hand enthusiastically, Eden smiling broadly.
“Dr. Bramlet. Great to be here,” she lies smoothly, taking a seat when the psychiatrist moves back behind his desk. He clasps his hands together on top of her file, Eden looking from the file to his hands and then to his face.
“How are you, Ms. Morgan?”
“Good. Great. I'm great, Dr. Bramlet, just-- wondering why I had to come in,” Eden finishes, unable to keep her attention on his face.
“I regret the necessity of using your work to bring you in, Ms. Morgan. I had hoped you might come in on your own, but you haven't and so I was left with no other options.”
“You mean other than just leaving me alone?” Eden asks, trying to keep the bitterness from her tone, Dr. Bramlet picking up on it and smiling.
“It's been a full year since you were released from River Oaks. Normally, I keep track of our patients through their meetings with their community therapist, but you haven't had one of those in quite some time now.”
“No, I haven't, and you know why. I'm pretty sure everyone knows why at this point,” Eden says defensively, Dr. Bramlet nodding.
“Yes, what happened with Dr. Ryder and that breach of security was a shame, though, correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't it proven that it was an opponent of yours who was responsible for the release of your medical records from his office?”
“Deimos. Yes,” Eden says shortly.
“You could have called, and we would have been more than happy to supply you with another therapist,” Dr. Bramlet continues, Eden pressing her lips together.
“I-- realize I should have, I just became really preoccupied and it completely slipped my mind. I really don't see where I need it, to be honest. Like I said, I've been great,” Eden finishes smoothly, Dr. Bramlet smiling in response.
“You also haven't been taking your medications. I know because by now the prescriptions would have run up on them, and you would have had to seek a medical professional to fill them. You haven't done that, or so my records show. Do you have proof otherwise?”
Eden shifts uncomfortably in her chair.
“Actually I uh-- I stopped taking anything a few months after I left.”
“I see. Any particular reason why?” Dr. Bramlet asks, Eden finding herself looking anywhere but at him. She shrugs.
“I didn't like the side effects or the way they made me feel.”
“So within months of leaving River Oaks, you not only stopped seeing a therapist, but you also stopped your medications, both of which were conditions of your release, I believe. Well then, I assume everything is exactly as you say it is, then. You're doing well, and there haven't been any instances even remotely similar to the issues you've had before.”
Eden knew before he'd finished the sentence that he knew everything. He knew all about the issues with Gabriel Baal last year; what had happened between her and Phrixus Deimos; the rumors about her role in the death of her fiance, Hugh; and now the latest of her actions, her manipulation of the Wyldes. The smile fades from her face and her eyes as she watches the psychiatrist before her, knowing full well that he held everything in his hands.
“I suppose it's a waste of breath for me to say that some of these things just happen in my line of work,” she says solemnly.
“If you'll recall, I recommended against you going back there. I said that I felt that it would be a hindrance to any true healing from you and could likely result in a relapse.”
“I'm not what I was before,” Eden says emphatically, her hands shaking. She clasps the arms of the chair, gripping them tight.
“Why is that? Because you're only focused on destroying others this time?” Dr. Bramlet asks, all signs of amusement gone.
“I'm not trying to destroy anyone,” Eden protests.
“Aren't you?”
“No!”
“Hmm,” Dr. Bramlet muses to himself, considering the woman before him.
“Are you keeping me here or not?” Eden asks, her voice wavering only slightly as she lays all the cards on the table. Dr. Bramlet remains silent for several long moments.
“You know, your brother and Mr. Somers were very concerned when I released you. They worried that it was too soon, they wondered if you were playing everyone into believing you were ready to be released. I told them there was no way to know for sure, that I could only judge by the observable data. I did warn them that you would likely never be completely cured. But in my arrogance as a professional, I never once lent credence to their words.”
Eden stills completely, watching the man before her. He taps a finger to his temple.
“You may be the best I've ever seen, Ms. Morgan. I'm not entirely certain you don't believe it yourself.”
“Excuse me?” Eden asks, frowning at him.
“Let's go over your time away from here, the year you've spent, and you tell me what I mean when we're done.”
Eden pauses and then nods, Dr. Bramlet opening the file before him.
“We'll start with Dr. Gabriel Baal, a man who himself kept you from returning here even after you attempted to blackmail and expose him with falsehoods--”
“No! That's not how it happened at all,” Eden starts, Dr. Bramlet raising a hand.
“I will speak and list everything, and then you may defend yourself, if you can. Is that understood?” he pauses, waiting for Eden's answer, Eden nodding sourly. “Good. Now then, you attempted to blackmail and expose him, the facts of which were not proven true at the time. Some months later, you seemed to have developed a working relationship with the man who had once been your enemy. It is rumored that you were responsible for the death of your former fiance inside Dr. Baal's Angelfields facility. Phrixus Deimos, the man who leaked your medical records from Dr. Ryders office to the public. I can certainly understand the upset that must have caused you, but your reaction was that of destroying an ant hill with a rocket. Not only did you disappear for some time, lying to friends and family, but you also stalked the man and then destroyed his property very publicly. You have, gradually at first and then more overtly reverted to your former narcissistic tendencies over the course of the months this year and every bit of that same callous-manipulative interpersonal style is in evidence in your dealings with your contemporaries of late. In truth, Ms. Morgan, you say you aren't what you were, and I agree with you. I find that you may be something far, far worse.”
Eden watches him dispassionately.
“Can I go now?” she asks, Dr. Bramlet looking at her in surprise.
“Go? Didn't you want to explain yourself?”
“What's the point, you've already made your mind up about me. And some of it-- you're not wrong. I enjoy playing with people, Dr. Bramlet. I enjoy watching them squirm, I especially enjoy it when everything I've said and done is the truth simply laid bare to light. They can't defend themselves against it, so they try to go on the offense and pick me apart, except at that point it's hollow, and it makes everything that much sweeter to me. But I pick and choose my targets, Doctor. Unlike how I was last year, not everyone in my line of sight makes it to the list.”
Dr. Bramlet smiles briefly.
“So your defense is that you're more controlled now?” he shakes his head. “I think, Ms. Morgan, that your brother and Mr. Somers had every reason in the world to be concerned.”
“Are you keeping me or not, Doctor?” Eden asks.
Dr. Bramlet sits at his desk, watching the woman before him and considering.
Eden Morgan sits in a brightly-lit room with bare walls, only the fold-up table before her and the chair she sits in as decoration. A camera is set up across from her, centered on her face, Eden exhaling heavily and running a hand through her hair.
“I don't know what you want me to talk about!” she yells toward the closed door at the back of the room.
“There's no wrong answers. Talk about whatever you need to, Ms. Morgan. Unburden yourself,” comes the voice of Dr. Bramlet from outside the door.
“And if I can't?” Eden asks with a sigh.
“Then I think it would be in your best interest to take up residence within these walls once again.”
Eden kicks the table furioiusly.
“Are you fucking serious, a goddamn confessional is all that's keeping me here or not? How am I the one who should be under lock and key, huh?!”
No answer greets her, Eden staring sullenly at the camera. The seconds tick by becoming minutes, the minutes becoming hours, Eden still seated at the table with her arms crossed over her chest. She exhales forcefully, and then leans forward.
“Alright fine. How about I just list all the reasons I don't want to be here? I hate being closed in. I don't like being drugged and/or restrained. I don't like being thrown into a goddamn room by myself for hours on end,” she shouts pointedly at the door, glaring back at the camera when there's no answer. “I don't want to lose my title to CJ fucking Wylde just because I couldn't show up because I'm locked in a goddamned crazy house,” she yells, kicking the table over this time, the table crashing to the floor. Eden straightens, pulling her hair back from her face. “This is ridiculous,” she mutters, a thought occurring to her.
“So, the whole premise of this coming show is the seven deadly sins. Seven matches, each match has a sin attached to it. Pretty simple, right? The sin for my match against CJ is pride, which I suppose makes sense considering pride is thought to be the foremost of the seven sins. It's the sin of sins, and ours is the match of matches that night. Supposedly it's the gateway through which all other sins enter the mortal soul,” Eden waggles her fingers at the camera as if what she had just said were incredibly spooky. She lowers her hand, crossing her arms over her chest. “Now, I was raised a good little Catholic school girl, and sometimes I paid attention. One of the things I remember is that pride is what transformed Lucifer into Satan. It's the reason we're warned to guard our hearts against pride lest we too fall into the same condemnation as the devil,” Eden says the last dramatically, again falling back into her less than enthused speech pattern. “And if I'm not mistaken, pride is to blame for Eve first eating the forbidden fruit.”
Dr. Bramlet's voice comes through the door, muffled.
“There's a quote from St. Augustine of Hippo regarding pride: 'Pride is the commencement of all sin because it was this which overthrew the devil, from whom arose the origin of sin; and afterwards, when his malice and envy pursued man, who was yet standing in his uprightness, it subverted him in the same way in which he himself fell. For the serpent, in fact, only sought for the door of pride whereby to enter when he said, “Ye shall be as gods.”'”
Eden stares at the door.
“Thanks for that. What's with all this talk of gods and goddesses, and people thinking they're some divine coming? It's pretty pathetic. Know what else is pathetic? Locking me in this damn room until I reach whatever conclusion you think is necessary. How about giving me a hint? No? Okay. Alright so, this pride match against CJ Wylde, it happens to be a Last Man Standing match as well. And since I'm sure you'll find that that sounds familiar in regard to me, you're probably flipping through that file you have trying to find mention of it. Let me save you some time. The last time I participated in a Last Man Standing match was when I faced Alan Wallace at Sin City in 2015. Yes, that year. Probably in the peak point of what you consider to be my target year. At any rate, I chose the Last Man Standing match against him despite the fact, and also because of the fact, that he had used the same type of match to injure my sister-in-law to the point of retirement. There's that danger to self everyone was so concerned about. They didn't have to be, though, because I beat Alan Wallace in a match that was considered his to win during one of the best years he's ever had. I took the UGWC World Title from him-- until Killian came down and took it from me.”
Eden pauses, staring off into space as she thinks back over the events of the time.
“Most of that has little to no bearing on what happens now during this Last Man Standing other than that I know exactly what I'm walking into with that match, but does CJ? I guess it could be argued that CJ has enough animosity toward me to push him to victory here. Except, I think CJ has quite a few other things on his mind at the moment. Namely the fact that he now, thanks to my concern over his health, has to take a bloodtest every time he's scheduled to climb in the ring. See, I do do things that are good for others.”
“Was that your intention, Ms. Morgan?”
Eden rolls her eyes at the question.
“Does that really matter? I'm doing CJ Wylde a favor. He doesn't have what it takes to be the face of UGWC or to stand where I stand within it. He's just someone who happened to get lucky in a random match and now finds himself far out of his element in a competition with the queen to his peasant. He is in no way fit to be what I am, and I'll show that truth to everyone. CJ talks a big game, but when it comes down to it, he's afraid. I think if you broke CJ Wylde open and analyzed him piece by piece, you'd find that deep down at his core, he's nothing but a mass of fear. It takes a lot more than that to be the driving force in what we do.”
“And if you were broken down in a similar way, what might we find, Ms. Morgan?”
Eden considers, pursing her lips, finally breaking into a slow grin.
“Pride, Dr. Bramlet. You would find pride.”
The black Jaguar comes to a screeching halt in the parking lot of River Oaks Hospital, Killian King jumping out of the driver's side, leaving the door open and the car still running. He rushes toward the main entrance, his hair and clothes a mess as if he had rushed to get ready. Just as he pulls the door open, Eden walks through it holding a file with her name on it, surprise written on her features.
“Killian what--” she starts, only to be silenced as he sweeps her up in his arms, spinning her around in circles on the sidewalk. She laughs at his antics, Killian putting her down and checking her over.
“You're okay? Nothing happened? They're not--”
“It's fine. It's all fine,” Eden interrupts him, smiling, Killian hugging her to him.
“I woke up and you were gone, Richard said you left early and it had been hours I-- thought the worst,” Killian admits.
“And what, you were just going to run in there and save me?” Eden asks, giving a little laugh.
“It wasn't going to be that easy for CJ Wylde to claim your title,” Killian teases, the two of them making their way to the parking lot. Seeing his car, Eden raises an eyebrow.
“Nice parking job,” she mocks, Killian sending a faux glare her way.
“Do be quiet.”
Toronto
April 29, 2017
“Hey Eden! Eden!”
Eden Morgan turns around, the bright Canada sun beating down on her.
“Cindy, hey! How's it going?”
Cindy Chavez, writer for 410mania.com, stops before the UGWC World Champion, grinning.
“It's great, thank you for getting me in on some exclusives here--”
“Oh, it's no problem, thank you for all your help,” Eden says with a wink and a smile.
“-- I would still like to get that interview with you, though. If you've got some free time,” Cindy says, Eden shaking her head.
“I actually don't right now, I'm sorry, Cindy. But I haven't forgotten you at all, it's just everything's all pre-planned this weekend. The troubles of being the queen,” Eden finishes with a light laugh, Cindy smiling.
“I get that. Alright, a rain check, then.”
Eden smiles at her once more and walks away, Cindy Chavez's own smile fading as she watches the retreating back of the UGWC World Champion, Eden moving toward a stage set up and climbing the steps. She moves out to the center of the mostly open stage, picking up a megaphone and raising it.
“CJ Wylde!” Eden yells into the microphone, the crowd that was already surrounding the stage instantly tripling as her voice echoes across the grounds.
“The Ghost!”
Some cheering from fans, some booing.
“The First Degree!”
More cheering, more boos.
“The first to fall during the reign of Eden Morgan.”
Mostly cheers erupt through the crowd with a smattering of hisses, Eden grinning out at the crowd.
“He certainly won't be the last.” She pauses, moving across the stage as more and more show up. “Are you ready to see who will be the last standing? I'll give you a hint- it won't be him. Do you think he measures up-- to your Queen?” Eden asks, standing mid-stage and throwing her arms out to either side, basking in the adoration of the crowd.
“CJ Wylde isn't fit to be the number one contender to the title I hold, let alone represent this company,” Eden calls out, holding up the UGWC World Title as she does. She places it over her shoulder, patting it. “And I'm not done making it into something that can be respected once again, something that only the best strive for. Not the ones who happen to get lucky in one, single match,” she says derisively.
The crowd plays along with her, several starting up a chant of “God Save the Queen!”
“I am the epitome of not only what a woman can do in this industry, but what anyone can do if they have the talent and the drive. I represent what every one else on the roster only wishes they could. I am your Queen, and I stand here in front of all of you and I am telling that I AM UGWC!” she screams the words into the megaphone, the sound of them reverberating through the grounds.
“The sin that CJ and I have assigned to our match is the sin of pride! And do we know what happens to those who commit that particular sin, the sin of pride?”
The crowd erupts around her.
“CJ Wylde-- you will be broken on the wheel,” Eden says evenly, the weight of her words resounding more than any had before. She lays the megaphone down and walks off the stage.
Word Count: 4900
2013, '18, '23 
2013 
