Post by Eden Morgan on Dec 8, 2018 19:30:56 GMT -5
Feeling my way through the darkness
Guided by a beating heart
I can't tell where the journey will end
But I know where to start
Guided by a beating heart
I can't tell where the journey will end
But I know where to start
December 3, 2018
Chicago
After Synergy
Eden stares mutinously at the back of Gabriel Baal as he slams out of Jordan King's office, the door rattling in its frame behind him.
“Seems a bit angry, don't he?” Jordan says into the silence, trying to make light of the situation, clearing his throat when Eden doesn't bite. She looks down at the floor. “It isn't often you two have a row, is it?”
“We have disagreements, but this is--”
“About your health. Yeah, I think I picked up on that when he was shouting about it. Listen, he's also worked up because of what Jet pulled out there. You know Jet, ever the showman,” Jordan goes on, jotting away at the paperwork before him.
“Not this time,” Eden responds.
Jordan looks up at her.
“You know it's different this time, Jordan. You're not stupid,” she says quietly.
Jordan gets to his feet and comes around the desk, leaning against it, tapping the pen against his leg.
“Stupid enough to be fooled by some falsified scans, though, right?” he asks, his eyes searching her face, Eden's carefully blank.
“I don't know what you're--”
“Don't give me that, Edie. I know better. If those scans you two brought in were the real deal, Gabriel wouldn't have gone on such a tear a few minutes ago, and he wouldn't be watching over you like a hawk during your matches. I know there's something going on, I'm not blind. I also know you, and I know you're going to do what you want to do, but this has to end. It can't go on forever, your time as an entertainment professional--”
“I'm living on borrowed time. Yes, Jordan, I'm very aware,” Eden says tersely. “If you must know, I've already promised Gabriel that Horizons is it. I'd promised him that before my match with Jet was announced,” she says, then smiles softly. “My first one-on-one pay-per-view match was against Jet Somers, and my last one will be too,” she marvels. “And I'll have done almost everything my way. How many people can say that?”
Jordan smiles and nods, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Not very many, Edie. Not many at all. You seem alright after that beating ol' Zane gave you, and then that Jetstreamer from Jet. No other symptoms, then? The headaches, the dizziness, the nosebleeds?” he asks carefully.
“Nope, all clear,” Eden says without missing a beat.
There's a knock at the door, Jordan calling out as Caleb sticks his head in.
“Hey uh-- one of your brother's guys is out here. Wants to talk to you when you're done.”
“I need to get these permissions on Ooley's desk before he comes looking for me with Louis. Feel free to use the office,” Jordan says, holding up the papers he'd just been working on before going to the door and opening it to admit a surprisingly subdued Chaos. The “Drunken Buzzsaw” leaves the door partly cracked, moving awkwardly toward the young girl who had been like a sister to him for much of her life.
“Hey, Chad,” Eden says quietly.
“Heya girlie,” he says gruffly. “Had to carry my old ass up to Chicago to sign some damn paperwork for Chill that couldn't just be fuckin' mailed for some reason, thought I'd stop in to see how you're doin'. Saw what happened,” he says, coughing a little.
Eden gives him a half smile, pushing down the urge to hug him. How long had it been since she'd seen him and really talked to him? God, it must be... right after she'd gotten away from Necron in Steel City. When she'd gone to Jet and he'd finally pulled the trigger...
“You know me and Jet. Always squabbling,” she says, unable to pull the joke off.
“That ain't what it looked like to me,” Chaos disagrees.
Eden looks around, not sure what to say.
“Umm... I have presents for the kids for Christmas. For Havyn, Dyson, and your Hayleigh,” she says, hopping off the table, steadying herself with a hand on it as a wave of dizziness hits her.
“Whoa,” Chaos moves up, placing a cautionary hand on her elbow. “You alright?”
“Yeah. I'm fine,” she says with a smile once she's recovered.
“Hmph,” Chaos grunts.
“I've been... bringing them to the arena every week since before Thanksgiving, just in case I ran into you,” she finishes.
“Could just come give them to them yourself, y'know,” Chaos observes.
“You know better than that, C,” Eden says quietly. She looks away, picking at a rip in her tights. “You can tell them it's from you, it's fine,” the words rush out, and she was struggling now to blink back the tears.
“You know I goddamned well ain't tellin' em' it's from me, I'll tell em' they're from you and anyone has a problem with that can step the fuck up,” Chaos says harshly.
Eden smiles at his tone.
“Hey C? Are you gonna be there to see Horizons?”
“Maybe. Haven't decided yet,” his boots scuffing Jordan's pristine floors. “This thing with you and Jet... can it be fixed?” he asks, already knowing the answer to his question.
“No. And it's better if it isn't. If you're here to lecture me on what I did a couple of weeks ago and how I should have seen this coming, you could give him the same. He had to know something was coming after he cost Gabriel--”
Chaos snorts and shakes his head.
“Gabriel fucking Baal. There's the source of all your fuckin' problems right there, girlie. Lose that prick and you could come home, Cyp would forgive you, hell, even Jet would forgive you. Your mom--”
“Don't,” Eden says warningly, shaking her head. She and Chaos lock eyes for a moment. “If you want the kids' presents, I'll bring them to you,” she says, moving toward the door.
“So that's it? We don't talk for months and you're just gonna shut me out because I badmouthed that cunt doc?” Chaos asks with indignation.
Eden pauses with her hand on the doorbknob.
“Would you stand around and listen while someone disparaged Cypress? Or Jet? Lucky?” she asks.
“Depends on if they deserved it or not,” Chaos jokes.
“You know what I mean,” she says.
He shrugs.
“Naw. They're family,” he says.
“And he's mine,” Eden says looking back at him. “You may not like it and you may not like him, but please respect that.”
His jaw works for a moment before he finally nods.
“Fair enough, girlie.”
“You can either wait here or come with me to get the presents,” she says, dropping their previous topic. “I'll just tell Cal--” she opens the door to speak to the guard, frowning when she finds the hallway empty.
“Caleb?” she calls, receiving no answer in return.
A few hallways away, Caleb stands staring down at his phone, his hands shaking.
The Father says to stop stalling. Pull the plug or he'll send someone else in to do it for you. Send your plans when you've made them.
Caleb presses his back to the wall, sliding down it to crouch on the balls of his feet, holding the phone against his forehead.
Time's up.
December 10, 2018
Chicago
As Horizons draws to a close, each of the UGWC superstars and some noted figures standing in the backstage area are hand delivered a letter. They'd all received it, each and every one, because they'd all born witness to this Eden Morgan and all the incarnations that had come before.
They all deserved the truth.
The envelope is an eggshell color with tasteful flecks of silver just faintly catching the light, the entire thing sealed with an elegant and flourishing 'E', and there was no mistaking just who it was from.
Lucy Wylde takes a seat on a bench in her dressing room, her fingers tracing over the single letter, so like the one she'd received... was it only a month ago?
Colin Zale and James Spyder each stare at their own envelope in the back. They'd seen the match, deep down they'd known...
Owen Peterson taps the side of his leg with the envelope that had been sent to him. Donovan Hastings, c/o Owen Peterson. He gives a wry smile.
Covert Jay presses the envelope under his nose and inhales deeply, the towel on his head wobbling a little as he picks up just the faintest hint of perfume, the comical gesture out of place with the sadness in his eyes.
Celeste Worth's perfectly manicured and lacquered nails drum over the envelope sitting on Alan Wallace's dresser. She picks it up and shakes her head before tossing it into the trashcan dismissively before pausing and pulling it out again, curiosity overtaking her.
Dexter Vines wipes a tired hand over his face. It was another year done, another Horizons in the bag, and already time to start planning for the new year. He enters the office, frowning when he spots two envelopes, one propped against the name plate at his desk and one propped against Ooley's.
Rogan MacLean hops up onto a box in the back, his feet kicking against the stiff board. He smiles and shakes his head. How had she even known he'd be here, the minx?
He cracks the seal.
I know many of you received this and rolled your eyes. Don't say you didn't, I know. What is Eden Morgan even like without her dramatic flourishes and relentless sagas? But at the very least, I've kept you on your toes and entertained you, maybe even brought a smile to your face when I wasn't being a complete and utter ridiculous spoiled brat or the wicked bitch your parents warned you about.
This isn't something meant to put anyone on notice; there is no more notice. I'm not writing this to make my intentions known for anyone's position or titles. The time for that has long since passed, and I think we're beyond such lies at this point.
Many of you have noticed things about me in the past few months that haven't seemed to quite add up, but the truth is, I've known for some time now that this Horizons would be my final one in the ring. As it turns out, pushing others to damn near destroy you time and time again, raising opponents' emotions to a heightened level, and continually taunting them to the point all control is lost is hazardous to your health. I've had a few serious injuries over the years, and I'm here to tell you that they do take a toll. They're cumulative, and the clock doesn't just set back to zero once it's all said and done and you're healed up. If you take nothing else from this, take care of yourselves, because in the end, you'll have no one else to blame but you.
Looking at you, Maggie Lockheart. You have an incredibly bright future ahead of you. Don't be me and fuck yourself out of a career almost six years after it began.
It's funny how blithely we wander through everything when there's no end in sight. I regret the time I spent half-assing what I love simply because I thought I'd always be able to do it. I thought I'd always be here, in UGWC, doing what I love to do. As soon as I knew it had to end, well... nothing pushes your nose to the grindstone and makes you realize that every match counts like knowing its one more closer to never doing it again.
Last week was the last Synergy I'll ever be a part of, as far as facing off against one of you.
Tonight is the last pay-per-view. My final Horizons.
Tonight, you'll witness the death of Eden Morgan.
This isn't something meant to put anyone on notice; there is no more notice. I'm not writing this to make my intentions known for anyone's position or titles. The time for that has long since passed, and I think we're beyond such lies at this point.
Many of you have noticed things about me in the past few months that haven't seemed to quite add up, but the truth is, I've known for some time now that this Horizons would be my final one in the ring. As it turns out, pushing others to damn near destroy you time and time again, raising opponents' emotions to a heightened level, and continually taunting them to the point all control is lost is hazardous to your health. I've had a few serious injuries over the years, and I'm here to tell you that they do take a toll. They're cumulative, and the clock doesn't just set back to zero once it's all said and done and you're healed up. If you take nothing else from this, take care of yourselves, because in the end, you'll have no one else to blame but you.
Looking at you, Maggie Lockheart. You have an incredibly bright future ahead of you. Don't be me and fuck yourself out of a career almost six years after it began.
It's funny how blithely we wander through everything when there's no end in sight. I regret the time I spent half-assing what I love simply because I thought I'd always be able to do it. I thought I'd always be here, in UGWC, doing what I love to do. As soon as I knew it had to end, well... nothing pushes your nose to the grindstone and makes you realize that every match counts like knowing its one more closer to never doing it again.
Last week was the last Synergy I'll ever be a part of, as far as facing off against one of you.
Tonight is the last pay-per-view. My final Horizons.
Tonight, you'll witness the death of Eden Morgan.
They tell me I'm too young to understand
They say I'm caught up in a dream
Well life will pass me by if I don't open up my eyes
Well that's fine by me
They say I'm caught up in a dream
Well life will pass me by if I don't open up my eyes
Well that's fine by me
December 6, 2018
New York
Eden sighs as she flops down on the couch next to Caleb. He'd been preoccupied of late, and not just with avoiding watching the terrible Christmas moves she chose to put on to torment him and Gabriel. She didn't even particularly care for them herself, but hearing their groans as they submitted to the torture was indescribably cathartic.
“What do you think? Is the ballsy business woman from the big city with no Christmas spirit going to fall for the local, small-town guy who runs a modest flower shop and is practically the second coming of Santa? I know that's probably what's going to happen, but I have dibs on the hot cop,” she says, sneaking a handful of popcorn from the bowl he holds. When he doesn't respond, she rolls her eyes.
“Hey! Earth to Caleb, come in,” she says, waving her hand in front of his face.
Caleb blinks.
“Yeah? Is it a banker this time?” he asks.
Eden sighs.
“What's going on with you? I know Gabriel's been all shut in with Rigor and Solomon lately, but you're just being weird,” she grumbles.
“Oh yeah? What's going on there?” Caleb asks conversationally.
“I don't know the specifics, really. Just that there had been a lot of chatter with the Order and then suddenly everything went quiet. It's got them spooked, which is why we've been under strict instructions. You're on perma-guard duty,” she says, poking him in the ribs and snatching another handful of popcorn.
“Hmm,” Caleb muses, making no further comment.
A knock at the door has Eden bouncing to her feet, her dark ponytail swinging as she approaches to open it.
“Wait, Eden, I should be opening the door--” Caleb starts to get up, but Eden already has it open. She turns back around holding a package, a big smile on her face.
“I have a present!” she practically squeals excitedly. “Give me your knife so I can open it,” she says, putting the moderately-sized package down on the coffee table in front of them.
Caleb picks it up and checks the package over, noting the missing return address.
“Why don't you let me open it first--”
“Oh stop it, it's not a bomb,” she scolds, picking up a nail file and using it to cut through the tape when Caleb refuses to hand over his knife.
Shortly after, a bloodcurdling scream echoes through the apartment, the door to Gabriel's office exploding open as Gabriel, Rigor, and Solomon burst out, each of them with their heads on a swivel searching for the danger.
“Eden?!” Gabriel calls frantically, frowning in confusion at the scene before him. Eden stands over a box with a horrified expression on her face, tears pouring down her cheeks, Caleb with his back turned to her and the box, his hand over his face.
“I-- it's--- J-J-Jet,” she blubbers.
Gabriel frowns and approaches the box, peering inside, half expecting to see a severed head. Inside the box lie a pair of holographic, hi-top sneakers with detachable butterfly wings. The gaudy shoes catch the light and reflect rainbows on the sides of the box. Gabriel pokes around at the tissue paper, spotting the card from Jet tucked in with the shoes. He picks one up and examines it.
“Am I missing something?” he asks.
Eden wails even louder.
“IT'S HIDEOUS!” she screeches.
Gabriel blinks, aware of Rigor's snickering and Solomon's barking laughter behind him.
“So to be clear, you're out here caterwauling and gutted because Jet sent you shoes you don't like?” he asks.
“He hit me where it hurts,” Eden wails.
“Oh for fuck's sake--” Gabriel begins, throwing the shoe back into the box, the wings fluttering with the movement. “Necron sent you an entire dismembered body and you held it together better than this!”
“Tell me about it. I dug up Hanneman and didn't get this reaction. Kudos to that choad, Somers,” comes a voice from the doorway to the kitchen. All eyes look in that direction as Ichabod nonchalantly takes a huge bite of his sandwich, chewing noisily and with his mouth open.
“The fuck you doin' here, mate?” Solomon asks the question on everyone's minds.
Ichabod holds his hands out to the side, nonplussed, his entire attitude saying 'really' in response to their surprise.
A piece of lettuce covered in mayo and mustard drops out of the sandwich and plops to the floor.
To Robert Ooley and Dexter Vines- thank you for taking a chance on a young girl, completely fresh and green around the gills. I know my family name had a lot to do with it, but you gave me a chance where many others wouldn't have. You put up with my shenanigans over the years, and there have been many of them, many and varied. Others would have thrown me out on my ass, and you threatened to do so many times, Bob, but you never did. Thank you for that.
Donovan Hastings. There has never been a point in my career where we haven't been a thorn in each other's sides. You may be one of the most aggravating men I have ever had the displeasure and simultaneously the pleasure of having to work with. I know when I came to you these past few weeks and made the requests I did, you knew. You saw it in me, and while we may not like each other, may in fact somewhat detest each other, there was an understanding there, even if just for a moment.
Jordan King. Thank you for trying to take care of me and make me do the right thing, something anyone around me can tell you isn't ever an easy task and is, at best, a thankless job. No longer. I'm sorry for lying to you and for putting you in a position you never wanted to be in. You were here when I started out in UGWC, and you were a friend to me then, a naïve young girl on a roster where everyone but you saw her as prey. You tried to protect me then as you tried to protect me now.
Jezebel Saint. Whatever your motivations were at the time, I have you to thank for even walking through these doors in the first place. Sure, I got it into my head that I wanted to do what you and Cypress had done, but we both know that would have been just another pipe dream that I'd have given up on and moved on to something else had you not said “Okay” and started training me. Not many people know that the Fall of Eden was a mistake from one of my training sessions with you and Malise. I tripped and fell backwards. I've always been clumsy.
Cypress Morgan. We haven't spoken in months, and not civilly in longer. It's been so long since you've looked at me with anything other than contempt... it doesn't matter. Because if you hadn't been the man you were, the man you are? I wouldn't be here. And while some may think that's damning on your part considering I'm having to retire at 26, it isn't. Wrestling has been my lifeblood, something I've been proud to do and proud to be a part of, and you are the one who whetted my taste for it.
Chaos. Not related by blood, but I still consider you my brother, sometimes more than the one I can actually claim kinship with. To say we've had a tumultuous relationship would be an understatement, but I'm not here to dredge up painful memories or to levy accusations. We've been there. I just want to say how proud I am of you and the man you've become. Hayleigh couldn't ask for a better father or a better man to have in her corner and at her back. And if the day comes and she wants to climb into the ring like her old man and his buddies, don't hold her back out of fear. Teach her, be her guide, hold her hand like you so often did for me. She'll be amazing, and so will you. I can't wait to see it.
Colin Zale. James Spyder. I could speak to the two of you separately, but it's never been a separate thing with us. I've been lucky in the mentors I've had in this journey, the ones who have chosen to take me on even when they had every reason not to. You two are legends in this industry, and still, you took the challenge of a smart-mouthed brat who was more interested in the latest spat on Twitter than she was in training. And still, you were patient, you worked with me, and if you hadn't I don't think I'd be half the athlete I became. Somewhere along the way, you ceased being merely mentors and became friends, father figures, more family than my own at times. I'm glad we were able to mend fences as much as we could a couple of weeks ago, and I'm glad the two of you were here tonight to see it all end.
Travis Pierce. I'm not sure what I can say to you that hasn't been said already. I won't go into another apology because I've done that to death. I suppose I'll say... you're right. I took from you, and from us. PMN, that whole time of you, me, and Jet together, taking on the world? That was truly an amazing time, and probably some of the most fun I've ever had. From the time I stepped foot in here, I went against the grain. The general consensus was that Travis Pierce was the sidekick to Jet Somers' hero, but I felt the two of you were on more equal footing than that and it was a mistake to discount you. Time and again you've proven me right, year after year. You know how I always love to be proven right.
Dave Rydell. If there ever was someone who is an icon for not giving up, it's you Dave. I don't think I've ever applauded harder for someone than when you finally took the Cross-Hemisphere title off of Klaus. We've all given you shit about pushing and pushing until it happened, but what is that other than a recipe for perseverance? You didn't stop until you got what you wanted and you shut one of the biggest mouths in this industry up, even if it was only for a few minutes. That's admirable.
Zane Scott. Thank you for last week, thank you for inviting me to Montana when you could have just as easily told me to go fuck myself and no one would have blamed you. I realize there's some guilt there and maybe that's why you did it. Guilt that perhaps if you hadn't done the things you did early on in my career, I wouldn't have become the person I became. I know, because that's exactly what I would think. And while there's a part of me that enjoys watching you squirm and would somewhat enjoy twisting the knife and blaming you for everything-- it isn't your fault, Zane. I chose my own path, and let's not forget what I did to Mark Reznik. That was long before you or Mickey Dragon ever got your hooks into me. It was always there. But we pushed past it and became friends. I only wish I'd ever been half the friend to you that you tried to be for me.
Phrixus Deimos. There is so much about you, so much knowledge stored in your head that could help those coming into this profession. While many are amazing at the mental warfare and mind games established, I don't think any quite rival you with your ability to see clear into the hearts of everyone. It's unnerving. I've read your writings, I've seen what goes on in your head and how often you really are so close to the truth of the inner workings of the mind and its motivations.
Kem Dynamo. How many times have I aimed a fat joke in your direction, or mocked you for your past mistakes in your career? If your head exploded when you were trying to count them all, you're not wrong. Truth is, Kem, you impress me, the way you continue to pick yourself up, the way you push through even though you are possibly the most alienated person on this roster, even moreso than Gabriel and I. You have no one to blame but yourself, Coheed and Cambria really are complete shit. Kidding. Sort of. I just think back to when I was starting out, young and naïve. I was lucky enough to have people take me under their wing, but you haven't had that, and I'm going to be brutally honest as to why. Whether you actually are or not, you feel fake, Kem, and people can sense that. Try being more actual Kem Dynamo than a Cool Kids wannabe, I think you'll find less doors slam in your face. Be genuine, whether than means being a complete and utter bitch or simperingly sweet or somewhere in between. Be. You.
The Cool Kids. You're the new bright and shiny in this industry. I won't deny your talent in the ring. Angie, Kenzi, Sarah, Roxy... such total opposites, yet you're all exactly what I was once upon a time, pushing to do what you love and become a driving force. Kenzi- trust yourself more. Stop listening to the naysayers, including me. You have more than proven yourself and you should know that. And leave the polyester alone, kay? Thanks. Angie- they say that the sweetest angels make the biggest devils, and I guess I'm proof of that. Don't let the darkness that inundates what we do take that away from you. Roxy- sometimes showing that you do have a heart and a soul is braver and stronger than acting like a shallow bitch all the time. Sarah- good luck. Stay out of cars with crazy men and I left some shoes for you in your room. I'm sure you'll love the butterfly effect. Months ago, I likened the Cool Kids to a plague of locusts, descending on feds and destroying them from the inside out, like a cancer. While the four of you do you have positives in your favor, it turns out I was right. I'll be surprised if UGWC makes it another two years with you four and your echo chamber attitudes. You can change that, I'm just not sure you want to.
Alan Wallace. Whether we were standing side by side as equals or facing each other across the ring, I think I can safely say that where there was Alan Wallace and Eden Morgan, there was entertainment. But it was more than that. You were someone I counted as a friend. Choices were made and that friendship was ended. You've blamed me for Killian's decisions, blamed me for part of your house burning (again, you likely won't believe me, but I have no reason to lie, it wasn't at all intentional), blamed me for so many things. Is it any wonder that the name of Eden Morgan is synonymous with Satan where you're concerned? I just hope you wake up and realize one day that everything you blame me for (other than the fire, because that was kinda stupid actually) is simply because you don't want to face your actions that brought about your own fall. Trust me on this, Alan. Wake up and face them before they drag you down.
Holden Orson/The Mainstreamer. By no stretch of the imagination could I ever be considered a good person, but what I did to you was particularly heinous. I took something that was deeply personal, a part of your life that you hadn't chosen yet to reveal to anyone and weaponized it. As Holden Orson, you made it a habit of criticizing my footwear, so I guess you could say we're even? Kidding. Somewhat. Yet another with so much potential, gone far too soon.
CJ Wylde. I don't even know if you'll see this, but I did you a disservice. As we all know, Eden Morgan can't have just a simple match, not when it's just a match with nothing on the line and certainly not when she's the World Champion and that title is on the line. I did what I felt was necessary at the time, but it doesn't mean it's something I'm proud of now. You should still be competing, you should have been a champion here several times over by now, but... as we all know, I sometimes make the wrong choices. I think you can identify with that as well.
Rogan MacLean. The Engine of Chaos, specifically you, ended the career of a man I care deeply for. It's funny that the ones who were in the Engine are the ones I feel the closest to in some way, the most kinship with. There's a dichotomy there, of opportunity and regret warring with each other, chaos and order. I think that's what Ichabod saw in each of us, saw in you, saw in me, in Gabriel, and obviously Holden. The two of us have gone back and forth. Not quite friends, not quite enemies, always some uncomfortable balance between the two until a few months ago. Despite everything, you didn't have to show up that first time, and then you definitely didn't have to keep showing up, but you did. I see a different man in you now than when you first started your journey here with Sid at your side. And while you're often off visiting other worlds, I know you have an anchor here in a man who was once your enemy. We're a lot alike in many, many ways. Thank you for showing me that.
Travis Roberts. The man who taught me (and apparently Alan) that you don't have to be the absolute best, you just have to say it often enough and with enough conviction that everyone around you starts to believe it. I destroyed your personal life in a matter of months simply because I felt like it and it amused me. You, possibly more than anyone other than Mark Reznik have every reason to hate me. And yet, you never quite seemed to reach that point with me. You, who of all people had every reason to demand retribution, you always seemed just above it. I don't regret a lot of missed opportunities in my career, but that is one of them. Travis Roberts and Eden Morgan could have been spectacular.
Killian King. Of all the things I could possibly think of with you, the one that stands out in my mind is when I first met you, when I flew over to London to obtain your assistance in regards to Alan. It's hard to believe that that brash and brazen man who was so full of life is the same bitter and cynical being who blames me for destroying everything and taking no bit of responsibility on himself. I admit my faults, Killian. I know who and what I am, but if you think you are utterly blameless in what happened between us and with the Court, you're lying to yourself. We all made decisions, some of them bad, some of them good, and we all have to live with them. And for what it's worth? I don't hate you for yours.
Ichabod. I remember when I first heard your name, my first Outlast with the company. Jet looked sick when it was uttered, and that's when Travis showed me all of his information he'd obtained on everyone involved in Outlast so I could get a crash course. Strangely enough? His file on you was empty. I'm not sure if there was never anything there or if there was at one time and it mysteriously “disappeared”. Knowing you, I suspect the latter. You have been one of my greatest tormentors and also someone who has pushed me like no other, helped me become what I think I was always meant to. While many might say that you molded me, I don't see it that way. You, Ichabod, are the ultimate form of freedom. Freedom of choice, freedom of self; but you are also the stark reminder that we are never free from the consequences of our choices and actions. Despite everything, you've become a constant in my life, as constant as you can be for anything. And while I know no one will ever replace Samantha for you, I'd like to think I hold a place in your life as you do in mine. Thank you for the lessons you've taught me, and also... go fuck yourself, you baldheaded choad.
Donovan Hastings. There has never been a point in my career where we haven't been a thorn in each other's sides. You may be one of the most aggravating men I have ever had the displeasure and simultaneously the pleasure of having to work with. I know when I came to you these past few weeks and made the requests I did, you knew. You saw it in me, and while we may not like each other, may in fact somewhat detest each other, there was an understanding there, even if just for a moment.
Jordan King. Thank you for trying to take care of me and make me do the right thing, something anyone around me can tell you isn't ever an easy task and is, at best, a thankless job. No longer. I'm sorry for lying to you and for putting you in a position you never wanted to be in. You were here when I started out in UGWC, and you were a friend to me then, a naïve young girl on a roster where everyone but you saw her as prey. You tried to protect me then as you tried to protect me now.
Jezebel Saint. Whatever your motivations were at the time, I have you to thank for even walking through these doors in the first place. Sure, I got it into my head that I wanted to do what you and Cypress had done, but we both know that would have been just another pipe dream that I'd have given up on and moved on to something else had you not said “Okay” and started training me. Not many people know that the Fall of Eden was a mistake from one of my training sessions with you and Malise. I tripped and fell backwards. I've always been clumsy.
Cypress Morgan. We haven't spoken in months, and not civilly in longer. It's been so long since you've looked at me with anything other than contempt... it doesn't matter. Because if you hadn't been the man you were, the man you are? I wouldn't be here. And while some may think that's damning on your part considering I'm having to retire at 26, it isn't. Wrestling has been my lifeblood, something I've been proud to do and proud to be a part of, and you are the one who whetted my taste for it.
Chaos. Not related by blood, but I still consider you my brother, sometimes more than the one I can actually claim kinship with. To say we've had a tumultuous relationship would be an understatement, but I'm not here to dredge up painful memories or to levy accusations. We've been there. I just want to say how proud I am of you and the man you've become. Hayleigh couldn't ask for a better father or a better man to have in her corner and at her back. And if the day comes and she wants to climb into the ring like her old man and his buddies, don't hold her back out of fear. Teach her, be her guide, hold her hand like you so often did for me. She'll be amazing, and so will you. I can't wait to see it.
Colin Zale. James Spyder. I could speak to the two of you separately, but it's never been a separate thing with us. I've been lucky in the mentors I've had in this journey, the ones who have chosen to take me on even when they had every reason not to. You two are legends in this industry, and still, you took the challenge of a smart-mouthed brat who was more interested in the latest spat on Twitter than she was in training. And still, you were patient, you worked with me, and if you hadn't I don't think I'd be half the athlete I became. Somewhere along the way, you ceased being merely mentors and became friends, father figures, more family than my own at times. I'm glad we were able to mend fences as much as we could a couple of weeks ago, and I'm glad the two of you were here tonight to see it all end.
Travis Pierce. I'm not sure what I can say to you that hasn't been said already. I won't go into another apology because I've done that to death. I suppose I'll say... you're right. I took from you, and from us. PMN, that whole time of you, me, and Jet together, taking on the world? That was truly an amazing time, and probably some of the most fun I've ever had. From the time I stepped foot in here, I went against the grain. The general consensus was that Travis Pierce was the sidekick to Jet Somers' hero, but I felt the two of you were on more equal footing than that and it was a mistake to discount you. Time and again you've proven me right, year after year. You know how I always love to be proven right.
Dave Rydell. If there ever was someone who is an icon for not giving up, it's you Dave. I don't think I've ever applauded harder for someone than when you finally took the Cross-Hemisphere title off of Klaus. We've all given you shit about pushing and pushing until it happened, but what is that other than a recipe for perseverance? You didn't stop until you got what you wanted and you shut one of the biggest mouths in this industry up, even if it was only for a few minutes. That's admirable.
Zane Scott. Thank you for last week, thank you for inviting me to Montana when you could have just as easily told me to go fuck myself and no one would have blamed you. I realize there's some guilt there and maybe that's why you did it. Guilt that perhaps if you hadn't done the things you did early on in my career, I wouldn't have become the person I became. I know, because that's exactly what I would think. And while there's a part of me that enjoys watching you squirm and would somewhat enjoy twisting the knife and blaming you for everything-- it isn't your fault, Zane. I chose my own path, and let's not forget what I did to Mark Reznik. That was long before you or Mickey Dragon ever got your hooks into me. It was always there. But we pushed past it and became friends. I only wish I'd ever been half the friend to you that you tried to be for me.
Phrixus Deimos. There is so much about you, so much knowledge stored in your head that could help those coming into this profession. While many are amazing at the mental warfare and mind games established, I don't think any quite rival you with your ability to see clear into the hearts of everyone. It's unnerving. I've read your writings, I've seen what goes on in your head and how often you really are so close to the truth of the inner workings of the mind and its motivations.
Kem Dynamo. How many times have I aimed a fat joke in your direction, or mocked you for your past mistakes in your career? If your head exploded when you were trying to count them all, you're not wrong. Truth is, Kem, you impress me, the way you continue to pick yourself up, the way you push through even though you are possibly the most alienated person on this roster, even moreso than Gabriel and I. You have no one to blame but yourself, Coheed and Cambria really are complete shit. Kidding. Sort of. I just think back to when I was starting out, young and naïve. I was lucky enough to have people take me under their wing, but you haven't had that, and I'm going to be brutally honest as to why. Whether you actually are or not, you feel fake, Kem, and people can sense that. Try being more actual Kem Dynamo than a Cool Kids wannabe, I think you'll find less doors slam in your face. Be genuine, whether than means being a complete and utter bitch or simperingly sweet or somewhere in between. Be. You.
The Cool Kids. You're the new bright and shiny in this industry. I won't deny your talent in the ring. Angie, Kenzi, Sarah, Roxy... such total opposites, yet you're all exactly what I was once upon a time, pushing to do what you love and become a driving force. Kenzi- trust yourself more. Stop listening to the naysayers, including me. You have more than proven yourself and you should know that. And leave the polyester alone, kay? Thanks. Angie- they say that the sweetest angels make the biggest devils, and I guess I'm proof of that. Don't let the darkness that inundates what we do take that away from you. Roxy- sometimes showing that you do have a heart and a soul is braver and stronger than acting like a shallow bitch all the time. Sarah- good luck. Stay out of cars with crazy men and I left some shoes for you in your room. I'm sure you'll love the butterfly effect. Months ago, I likened the Cool Kids to a plague of locusts, descending on feds and destroying them from the inside out, like a cancer. While the four of you do you have positives in your favor, it turns out I was right. I'll be surprised if UGWC makes it another two years with you four and your echo chamber attitudes. You can change that, I'm just not sure you want to.
Alan Wallace. Whether we were standing side by side as equals or facing each other across the ring, I think I can safely say that where there was Alan Wallace and Eden Morgan, there was entertainment. But it was more than that. You were someone I counted as a friend. Choices were made and that friendship was ended. You've blamed me for Killian's decisions, blamed me for part of your house burning (again, you likely won't believe me, but I have no reason to lie, it wasn't at all intentional), blamed me for so many things. Is it any wonder that the name of Eden Morgan is synonymous with Satan where you're concerned? I just hope you wake up and realize one day that everything you blame me for (other than the fire, because that was kinda stupid actually) is simply because you don't want to face your actions that brought about your own fall. Trust me on this, Alan. Wake up and face them before they drag you down.
Holden Orson/The Mainstreamer. By no stretch of the imagination could I ever be considered a good person, but what I did to you was particularly heinous. I took something that was deeply personal, a part of your life that you hadn't chosen yet to reveal to anyone and weaponized it. As Holden Orson, you made it a habit of criticizing my footwear, so I guess you could say we're even? Kidding. Somewhat. Yet another with so much potential, gone far too soon.
CJ Wylde. I don't even know if you'll see this, but I did you a disservice. As we all know, Eden Morgan can't have just a simple match, not when it's just a match with nothing on the line and certainly not when she's the World Champion and that title is on the line. I did what I felt was necessary at the time, but it doesn't mean it's something I'm proud of now. You should still be competing, you should have been a champion here several times over by now, but... as we all know, I sometimes make the wrong choices. I think you can identify with that as well.
Rogan MacLean. The Engine of Chaos, specifically you, ended the career of a man I care deeply for. It's funny that the ones who were in the Engine are the ones I feel the closest to in some way, the most kinship with. There's a dichotomy there, of opportunity and regret warring with each other, chaos and order. I think that's what Ichabod saw in each of us, saw in you, saw in me, in Gabriel, and obviously Holden. The two of us have gone back and forth. Not quite friends, not quite enemies, always some uncomfortable balance between the two until a few months ago. Despite everything, you didn't have to show up that first time, and then you definitely didn't have to keep showing up, but you did. I see a different man in you now than when you first started your journey here with Sid at your side. And while you're often off visiting other worlds, I know you have an anchor here in a man who was once your enemy. We're a lot alike in many, many ways. Thank you for showing me that.
Travis Roberts. The man who taught me (and apparently Alan) that you don't have to be the absolute best, you just have to say it often enough and with enough conviction that everyone around you starts to believe it. I destroyed your personal life in a matter of months simply because I felt like it and it amused me. You, possibly more than anyone other than Mark Reznik have every reason to hate me. And yet, you never quite seemed to reach that point with me. You, who of all people had every reason to demand retribution, you always seemed just above it. I don't regret a lot of missed opportunities in my career, but that is one of them. Travis Roberts and Eden Morgan could have been spectacular.
Killian King. Of all the things I could possibly think of with you, the one that stands out in my mind is when I first met you, when I flew over to London to obtain your assistance in regards to Alan. It's hard to believe that that brash and brazen man who was so full of life is the same bitter and cynical being who blames me for destroying everything and taking no bit of responsibility on himself. I admit my faults, Killian. I know who and what I am, but if you think you are utterly blameless in what happened between us and with the Court, you're lying to yourself. We all made decisions, some of them bad, some of them good, and we all have to live with them. And for what it's worth? I don't hate you for yours.
Ichabod. I remember when I first heard your name, my first Outlast with the company. Jet looked sick when it was uttered, and that's when Travis showed me all of his information he'd obtained on everyone involved in Outlast so I could get a crash course. Strangely enough? His file on you was empty. I'm not sure if there was never anything there or if there was at one time and it mysteriously “disappeared”. Knowing you, I suspect the latter. You have been one of my greatest tormentors and also someone who has pushed me like no other, helped me become what I think I was always meant to. While many might say that you molded me, I don't see it that way. You, Ichabod, are the ultimate form of freedom. Freedom of choice, freedom of self; but you are also the stark reminder that we are never free from the consequences of our choices and actions. Despite everything, you've become a constant in my life, as constant as you can be for anything. And while I know no one will ever replace Samantha for you, I'd like to think I hold a place in your life as you do in mine. Thank you for the lessons you've taught me, and also... go fuck yourself, you baldheaded choad.
I tried carrying the weight of the world
But I only have two hands
I hope I get the chance to travel the world
But I don't have any plans
But I only have two hands
I hope I get the chance to travel the world
But I don't have any plans
December 13, 2018
Eden groans, her eyelids fluttering open and then rapidly shut, the pounding in her head not as bad as it had been the previous times when she'd been able to drag herself out of the black abyss of pain she found herself in. Where was she? What was going on?
She remembered... the match. Lucy. Jet. Gabriel... where was Gabriel? She remembered... fighting to hold it together, determined to walk to the back under her own steam. This was her last walk, everyone would see her do it herself, she'd be damned if she'd be carried on a stretcher or helped along, no, she'd do it herself.
She remembered making it to the stage, the blur at the edges moving more toward the center, but still she'd done it. She'd turned around and faced the fans, stared out at that writhing mass of screaming, cheering, booing faces and felt the bittersweet ache fill her completely.
Through it all, Gabriel had stayed by her side, seeming almost afraid to leave. He looked at her as if she were this fragile thing, like she had a fault line running right through her that was visible to everyone around her and any moment, with the slightest bump she'd shatter into a million pieces along that hairline fracture.
That moment... they'd had their moment...
She remembered not wanting to leave the stage, thinking that if she just stayed there everything would be okay, but she had to go back. They needed to look at her, check her out, someone... something...
She remembered she hadn't been backstage long when she'd stumbled. Her hand had gone to the wall to steady herself and the pain had slammed into her at full force. It was like a thunderclap going off, the shock of it without the sound, a tremor felt deep in her bones. Her eyes had widened in shock as everything went dark and she crumpled to the ground.
She remembered... voices. Jordan? Caleb telling them to take it easy as she was strapped to a spine board. Gabriel and Jet yelling at each other...
Then black.
Then... lights going by above her. A blur of faces going by, other members of the roster, people she'd spent the past several years with, ones she'd trained with, fought beside and against...
Then black.
She was in the back of an ambulance and it was moving.
“Gab... rel,” she'd said.
“He'll come later, love.” Caleb's voice. But it wasn't right, his wasn't the one she'd wanted to hear, and then suddenly... it was there.
“Caleb! Thank... God.... Let me in,” Gabriel had said.
“Gab...rel. S'that... Gabrel...” she'd been fighting to stay conscious, was slipping in and out of it.
“No, love... you're dreaming,” Caleb had told her.
And she'd believed him. She'd given up the fight and succumbed to the black that was clawing at her and trying to drag her down beneath the choppy waters. He might not be there now, but he would be soon...
“Gabriel?”
God. Was that her voice, that thick, dry, croak?
“No. Not Gabriel, love. Afraid you missed him by a couple of days,” Caleb says, sat in a large arm chair at the foot of her bed.
Eden frowns, trying to pull her thoughts together.
“A couple of days? Where is he?” she asks. Sitting up would be terrible right now, but-- omg what state was her hair in?!
Eden lifts her hand to feel her hair, her wrist brought up short, the rails of the bed rattling with the movement. She frowns, looking down at her arms, finding wrist restraints binding her to the bed rails. A little thrill of panic shoots through her, but she forces herself to remain calm.
“Cal... what's going on? Why am I restrained?” she asks carefully, forcing control into her voice.
Caleb sighs and gets to his feet to stand over her, Eden looking up into his haggard face. He takes her left hand in his, just looking down at her for a time.
“Just after your match.. you fell. Hard. Hit your head, though I think that was just the icing on the cake. What Jet did...” he lets his voice trail off, his jaw clenched. “I got you out of there. We took a plane back to New York, had medical staff on the flight--”
“What? Wait, why? Why would you do that, you could have just taken me to the hospital, it wouldn't be the first time I'd gone to the ER in Chicago--”
“Just... be quiet and listen,” he says, Eden falling silent, a wariness setting in. He could see it tightening the corners of her eyes when she looked at him, and it made his fingers spasm, squeezing her hand tight in his.
“They picked us up at the airport, brought us here to this facility. I've barely left your side since then,” he says, continuing to squeeze her hand, willing her to believe him.
“Caleb.. where are we?” Eden asks, and he noticed the change in her tone, how she addressed him.
He remains quiet, savoring the moment, the calm before the storm. Once he told her...
“I love you, Eden Morgan,” the words come out on a breath, and he immediately felt a little lighter having said it, but the words changed nothing and in some ways, made what was coming all the harder.
Eden says nothing, but he could read the tension and fear in her body language. He sighs.
“You're right now in the infirmary for the Order of the Inferno. The Order's medical staff patched you up, and you've been in and out of consciousness for a few days,” Caleb says evenly.
“What?! Cal we have to get out of here! Why would you bring me, what are you thinking?!” she starts, trying to sit up, the padded cuffs encircling her wrists pulling tight. She falters, blinking, a look of disbelief washing over her as she looks at the guard beside her, the man who had become a friend, and somewhat more.
“No. No, no, no, no, no,” she shakes her head, pleading with him to tell her that what she already knew to be true wasn't real.
His heart was breaking. He thought he'd died a little inside every time she'd awakened and the first name on her lips was Gabriel's, but that had only been a warm-up for what he felt right now. The betrayal in her eyes, the accusation, the fear, the anger, the hurt, confusion, it was all there, all aimed right at him.
Tears slip from her beautiful ocean eyes, Caleb fighting not to take it all back, to make it all go away for her. He couldn't. The dance had already begun, was well under way before she'd even been aware she was moving her feet.
“I was approached the very day I accepted the contract with Gabriel's organization. Hugh himself, as a matter of fact,” Caleb explains. “He knew about my past with the orphanage, he'd made it his business to track all of us. He used my anger and my desire for revenge--”
“I don't want to hear it,” Eden says, looking away from him, tears still slipping down her cheeks. She tries to pull her hand away, unable to with the cuffs. Instead, she lets her fingers go slack, Caleb withdrawing his hand from hers.
“I've done a lot of bad things, Eden. Terrible things. I made quite a few stupid decisions, done things I regret. I tried to be there for you from the beginning...” Caleb trails off, not quite sure how to say what he needed to say. She had to know.
“So what are you? A lowly stooge?” she asks derisively.
“No.”
“A lieutenant?” she guesses.
“No.”
“Something higher?” she asks, a chill working its way up her spine.
“Yes.”
Eden remains quiet, thinking back to months ago when she, Gabriel, and Caleb had stolen files, but certain things they'd needed had been redacted. They'd learned her father's death, Quentin's death, and Nate's death had been ordered, but the name was erased from record. The name of the.. .
“I'm the Ninth Circle,” Caleb says.
Four words, that's all it took. Four words to make her feel as though the air had been driven from her lungs. The room swam, and for a moment she forgot how to breathe, how to think, how to even be. This man... who had been her friend... who had listened to her misery, blaming herself for her father's death, for Quentin's death, for Nate... who had stood with her at their funerals... comforted her... was the one responsible for their deaths.
“Get out,” she says quietly.
“I'm not getting out, we need to talk, you need to understand--”
“I said get out,” her voice rises just a little, still not looking at him, as though she can't bring herself to.
“Eden--” he reaches for her hand, Eden clenching her hands into fists and jerking violently against the rails of the bed, causing the whole thing to shake.
“GET OUT! GETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUT!!! GET THE FUCK OUT!!!!”
Caleb backs away from the bed as Eden thrashes, screaming and spitting furiously. Two nurses rush to the bedside, trying to calm their patient.
“I WANT HIM OUT! GET HIM AWAY FROM ME, I WANT THAT MURDERING FUCKER OUT... NOW!!!!”
“Sir, we have to ask you to leave,” one of the nurses says, Caleb backing away slowly, transfixed by the woman in the bed glaring daggers at him.
He exhales heavily, backing out the door as the nurses administer a sedative, Caleb closing his eyes as he leans against the door, well aware that the sedative combined with the restraints was one of her biggest fears.
He'd done this. He did it.
A faint beep and a rhythmic buzz alerts him to a text message. He pulls his phone from his pocket and reads the message from Hugh.
I hear our girl is awake. If she's alright enough to act like that, she's alright enough for the Pit. Get her cell ready.
It was all he could do not to throw his phone against the wall. Instead, he dials a number and raises it to his ear.
“Get her cell ready. Now!”
Lucy Wylde. We've come quite a ways in our tumultuous time together, haven't we? I can honestly say that our match a few weeks ago at Battleground was quite possibly one of my favorites I've ever been involved in. You're a pain in my ass, Lucy, and also a wonderfully strong woman, and I'm thankful that I've had these weeks to see another side of you and you me. For the two of us to understand that perhaps we aren't as different as we first thought, and that we don't have to be such polar opposites as we painted ourselves. Both of our faults, truthfully. Whatever happened in the match tonight, don't blame yourself, and don't blame Jet. As much as I've forced your hand and provoked you, I've done it a thousand time worse with him. I've made my choices and I stand by them, while they may not always have been the best in the world. And that's something that I know you can appreciate and respect because if there's anything that Lucy Wylde and Eden Morgan do similarly, it's fuck things up spectacularly and make the most insane choices imaginable. I think the entire company and industry at large should be thankful we recognized what we could have been too late. We'd have burned them all. Burn a few for me, yeah? Rude cow.
Gabriel Baal. Short of Necron and Mickey Dragon, you were the one I most wanted to destroy, and the man who became instrumental in forcing me to recognize my true self. I know what everyone says, the whispers in the back, about how you pulled me away from my family and upended my life, but the truth is I wouldn't do it any differently. I wouldn't change a thing if the end result would take me from where I am now. So much wasted time at each other's throats when we had no idea that the person standing across from us was our own mirror image. Stubborn, foolish pride is what it all came down to, but maybe that's what it took for us to be what we are to each other. I fell in love with the cracked and broken pieces of you, so when you showed me your good side, I fell deeper and deeper. I fell so deep and so hard that I wasn't even sure I would survive the landing. I'm still not sure. All I know is I can't think of anyone I'd rather have standing beside me in that ring in what will be the final match of my career. You've done what you've always done and followed me into the fire. I can do no less than stand beside you while it destroys everything around us.
Jet Somers. You were there when I started in this world, sort of my welcome wagon. You were my first introduction to the mind games and the theater of it all, and I took notes from the very beginning. Just a few months into my career, during my first run with the World Championship, you told me you weren't sure this was the life I needed, that it wasn't where I needed to be. You didn't think I was strong enough, and when I fought back against what you said? You told me to stop being the victim, and then you said something that has stuck with me over the years. You told me that I had to leave my emotions and feelings at the door, that I couldn't bring them with me and they had no place in the ring or in this business. You said that emotions and feelings make you a willing victim and there was no strength or honor in that. Reaction. Behavior. Calculation. Those were your tenets, and I took them to heart. Did you ever to heart, Jet, or was it just empty words? Because it seems like you've been feeling pretty emotional lately.
Somewhere along the way, we switched roles, Jet. Somewhere along the way, you became the willing victim, and I became the one preaching the tenets of reaction, behavior, and calculation. I think you recognize that and it burns you. I think you see the things Gabriel and I have done and you realize just how soft you've gone. That stunt you pulled at Synergy told me that. The Score. At one time, Jet Somers was dropping people off of buildings and would have found the idea of dumping ink on someone childsplay. Oh, you would have done it, but there would have been another finishing act behind it. It would been a side dish and not the main course.
Have you ever really stopped to consider, Jet, that if you have such a problem with who I've become, you're the one who made me what I am today? Oh not entirely, I have a few others to thank for some of what I became, but truly... who would Eden Morgan be without Jet Somers? Who would Jet Somers be without Eden Morgan? Can you fathom it and the ripple effect it would have through our universe? If you hadn't pushed things with us in that first match and we made that connection... there would have been no golden age of PMN; you wouldn't have had the lure to bring Dragon back; Marek Daisuke would still be alive and Ezekiel Pax would be slightly less of a loser than he is now; Ryan would still be alive; Travis wouldn't have to deal with the neverending nightmare of taxes from 2014 and his ill-conceived name change; Killian King would never have been brought in to spur Wallace's flagging career, which means Zane would have never had his knee destroyed; Alan would have likely faded into obscurity after a few months, so the Mainstreamer would have never returned and Holden Orson would have never taken hold; Colin Zale wouldn't have had his career ended; Quentin Barnes never would have returned and stuck around as long as he did and eventually discovered he had a brother because Gabriel Baal wouldn't even be here. Ichabod would have wandered off aimlessly to kick chaotic cans into the mouth of the universe and Necron would only be a bad dream. All of this because you just had to fuck with the newbie and push her buttons, play mindgames.
You made your choices, Jet, and I made mine. And tonight, we'll make more choices and more dominoes will fall. No matter how it plays out in the end, no matter how it has continually played out over time and how we always knew it would end, I want you to know one thing- I love you, Jet. And there is no one I would rather see across the ring from me tonight. Through it all, through all the turmoil and the chaos the two of us caused to each other and everyone around us. It's been an amazing ride, and I'm thankful you couldn't help but to push buttons and play mindgames, because with all the bad, there was good.
There was a lot of good, Jet. Thank you for that.
Tonight, I'm going out there for the last time as a competitor. I'm going out there for every little girl who was told her dream was the wrong one and she would never make it; I'm going out there everyone who has ever been pushed to run away when the going gets tough and they have to adapt and get tougher or do what everyone expects them to (yes, Kem, sometimes there is a method to my madness). But most importantly, tonight I'll be out there for me, because I'm going to end this on my terms, no one else's. My career has been my own, and while I've made mistakes, many, many mistakes, they've brought me to where I am right now, and while that may not seem like a good thing? It could be far worse.
Tonight, I'll be out there for Ryan Hanneman, for Quentin Barnes, for Nathan Korpi, and for my dad, Samuel Morgan. All men who believed in me and supported this crazy dream of mine.
Thank you all for coming along for the ride.
- Eden
Gabriel Baal. Short of Necron and Mickey Dragon, you were the one I most wanted to destroy, and the man who became instrumental in forcing me to recognize my true self. I know what everyone says, the whispers in the back, about how you pulled me away from my family and upended my life, but the truth is I wouldn't do it any differently. I wouldn't change a thing if the end result would take me from where I am now. So much wasted time at each other's throats when we had no idea that the person standing across from us was our own mirror image. Stubborn, foolish pride is what it all came down to, but maybe that's what it took for us to be what we are to each other. I fell in love with the cracked and broken pieces of you, so when you showed me your good side, I fell deeper and deeper. I fell so deep and so hard that I wasn't even sure I would survive the landing. I'm still not sure. All I know is I can't think of anyone I'd rather have standing beside me in that ring in what will be the final match of my career. You've done what you've always done and followed me into the fire. I can do no less than stand beside you while it destroys everything around us.
Jet Somers. You were there when I started in this world, sort of my welcome wagon. You were my first introduction to the mind games and the theater of it all, and I took notes from the very beginning. Just a few months into my career, during my first run with the World Championship, you told me you weren't sure this was the life I needed, that it wasn't where I needed to be. You didn't think I was strong enough, and when I fought back against what you said? You told me to stop being the victim, and then you said something that has stuck with me over the years. You told me that I had to leave my emotions and feelings at the door, that I couldn't bring them with me and they had no place in the ring or in this business. You said that emotions and feelings make you a willing victim and there was no strength or honor in that. Reaction. Behavior. Calculation. Those were your tenets, and I took them to heart. Did you ever to heart, Jet, or was it just empty words? Because it seems like you've been feeling pretty emotional lately.
Somewhere along the way, we switched roles, Jet. Somewhere along the way, you became the willing victim, and I became the one preaching the tenets of reaction, behavior, and calculation. I think you recognize that and it burns you. I think you see the things Gabriel and I have done and you realize just how soft you've gone. That stunt you pulled at Synergy told me that. The Score. At one time, Jet Somers was dropping people off of buildings and would have found the idea of dumping ink on someone childsplay. Oh, you would have done it, but there would have been another finishing act behind it. It would been a side dish and not the main course.
Have you ever really stopped to consider, Jet, that if you have such a problem with who I've become, you're the one who made me what I am today? Oh not entirely, I have a few others to thank for some of what I became, but truly... who would Eden Morgan be without Jet Somers? Who would Jet Somers be without Eden Morgan? Can you fathom it and the ripple effect it would have through our universe? If you hadn't pushed things with us in that first match and we made that connection... there would have been no golden age of PMN; you wouldn't have had the lure to bring Dragon back; Marek Daisuke would still be alive and Ezekiel Pax would be slightly less of a loser than he is now; Ryan would still be alive; Travis wouldn't have to deal with the neverending nightmare of taxes from 2014 and his ill-conceived name change; Killian King would never have been brought in to spur Wallace's flagging career, which means Zane would have never had his knee destroyed; Alan would have likely faded into obscurity after a few months, so the Mainstreamer would have never returned and Holden Orson would have never taken hold; Colin Zale wouldn't have had his career ended; Quentin Barnes never would have returned and stuck around as long as he did and eventually discovered he had a brother because Gabriel Baal wouldn't even be here. Ichabod would have wandered off aimlessly to kick chaotic cans into the mouth of the universe and Necron would only be a bad dream. All of this because you just had to fuck with the newbie and push her buttons, play mindgames.
You made your choices, Jet, and I made mine. And tonight, we'll make more choices and more dominoes will fall. No matter how it plays out in the end, no matter how it has continually played out over time and how we always knew it would end, I want you to know one thing- I love you, Jet. And there is no one I would rather see across the ring from me tonight. Through it all, through all the turmoil and the chaos the two of us caused to each other and everyone around us. It's been an amazing ride, and I'm thankful you couldn't help but to push buttons and play mindgames, because with all the bad, there was good.
There was a lot of good, Jet. Thank you for that.
Tonight, I'm going out there for the last time as a competitor. I'm going out there for every little girl who was told her dream was the wrong one and she would never make it; I'm going out there everyone who has ever been pushed to run away when the going gets tough and they have to adapt and get tougher or do what everyone expects them to (yes, Kem, sometimes there is a method to my madness). But most importantly, tonight I'll be out there for me, because I'm going to end this on my terms, no one else's. My career has been my own, and while I've made mistakes, many, many mistakes, they've brought me to where I am right now, and while that may not seem like a good thing? It could be far worse.
Tonight, I'll be out there for Ryan Hanneman, for Quentin Barnes, for Nathan Korpi, and for my dad, Samuel Morgan. All men who believed in me and supported this crazy dream of mine.
Thank you all for coming along for the ride.
- Eden
I wish that I could stay forever this young
Not afraid to close my eyes
Life's a game made for everyone
And love is the prize
Not afraid to close my eyes
Life's a game made for everyone
And love is the prize
December 16, 2018
She's awakened by a blinding, sharp pain in her stomach, Eden curling inward, bringing her knees up to her chest to protect her midsection as the air is expelled from her lungs.
“Get up, darling. It's your big day.”
She coughs, faintly tasting blood, but still pushing herself upright. With the light coming from the open door, she could make out the shoes in front of her and she didn't want them driving into her again. Eden turns away from the light as it blinds her, sending little needle pricks of pain through her eyeballs and into her brain. The worst of it was that it was so welcome, she yearned for it after being in the dark so long, and she drew away from it. It was painful, and she knew if she allowed her eyes to grow accustomed to it, she'd have to suffer the intense black all over again...
“I said get up!” the words are punctuated by another kick, this one to her hip.
She cries out at the contact, pushing herself onto all fours and then using the wall she was chained to to pull herself upright. The dirty smock covering her hangs loosely, the threads already showing where she'd picked at them in an effort to distract herself from the dark and the memories it dredged up. She's suddenly pressed against the wall, Hugh's hand cupping her jaw hard enough to leave bruises.
“And how nice of you to get dressed up for me,” he mocks, his other hand skimming over her body through the smock and then slipping beneath it. “As I said, it's a big day for you. You'll finally learn what's at stake, and--” he squeezes her jaw so hard she lets out a whimper, feeling the pressure at the joint as though it might crack. She suddenly remembers the sound of the crack Gabriel's jaw had made when Necron... that seemed a lifetime ago.
A slap across the face brings her back to the present, her former fiance's eyes narrowed in annoyance.
“Pay attention when I'm talking to you, sweetheart,” he remonstrates, his hand still moving beneath the smock. “As I was saying, it's a big day for you. And because you've been such a joy these past few days, you're going to get a reward. You'll see Baal, would you like that?” he asks her with a smile.
She wanted to scratch his eyes out, to spit in his face, to rip his balls off and feed them to him. Instead, she just smiles.
“I would like to see Gabriel,” she says, carefully keeping her voice monotone.
“Fucking whore,” Hugh says, slapping her viciously and shoving her back against the wall, holding her there by her throat. Eden chokes, gasping for air as Hugh watches her face turn colors. “You're going to pay for everything you've done, bitch,” he says in an almost marveling tone before letting her drop at the last minute.
Eden sucks in mouthfuls of the cold, stagnant air, her lungs burning.
“You've added to your list of victims, Eden. The entire time you've been in the Pit, Anders has barely left the door to your cell. Did you know that? Did you know he was right outside while you've been panicking and crying over every scream you heard in the night, every imagining of something crawling along your skin?” Hugh digs at her, but her mind only echoes one thought.
I'm going to see Gabriel. I'm going to see Gabriel. I'm going to see Gabriel.
He didn't say you'd see him alive.
That little negative voice was back, but she couldn't engage it right now. Right now...
The guards bind her wrists and attach chains to her ankles. She'd hoped they'd at least brush her hair, let her wash her face, something, but no. They lead her through the corridors and up, up, up until they come to a chamber with a cleared out center, candles lighting up the edges of the room.
“Doctor! Welcome back!” she hears Hugh call from the circle just in front of her. “You're just in time.”
The circle parts and she's pushed through to the center... and there in the center is Gabriel, looking as worse for the wear as she knew she did. Still, he smiled when he saw her, his eyes lighting up and she felt herself respond in a similar fashion. It seems to takes ages for her to cross the few steps to reach him, but she makes it.
“Eden.”
Even hearing him say her name... tears fill her eyes as she takes him in, not even noticing the chains falling away until he pulls her in for a strong hug. She winces, the tenderness remaining from Hugh's visit doing its job to sober her. They needed to think, not be sentimental. It's then, looking up from his shoulder that she glances around them, spying the faces watching her.
They couldn't afford to be weak.
“Are you okay?” he asks quietly.
“I am now,” she says, clinging to him. She wasn't ready to let him go yet, wondered maybe if she never did if they'd leave them like this, in this stalemate forever. “Not gonna lie, I've stayed at better hotels,” she jokes lightly.
“And worse,” he follows suit. One of the faces in the crowd eyes them with a sneer, and she quickly looks away, pulling back from Gabriel but offering him a smile. “That one in Steel City did not get a positive review on trip advisor,” he continues the joke, Eden squeezing his hands tightly in hers, her way of thanking him for trying to make her smile given their situation.
Hugh clears his throat, reminding them all too quickly of just how dire that situation is.
“As touching as this little moment is, we don't have all night,” he says.
“What do you want, Hugh?” Gabriel asks. “There must be something you want that can end all of this.”
“I've told you my terms,” Hugh says with a smile, and Eden suddenly felt like she was missing something. “Whether you stay or go, Eden is to remain here.”
The blood-curdling shout Gabriel lets out makes her jump, the look on his face spurring her into action.
“He accepts,” she says in a bold, quiet voice.
“Eden! No!” Gabriel wraps his fingers around her wrist, pulling her back. “I accept nothing.”
She quickly turns to face him, her voice low.
“Gabriel, you need to go. Get out of here,” she pauses, recalling Hugh's visage. “I've seen that look in his eyes, and he's not letting me go anywhere,” she says holding back tears. Be strong. Can't be weak.
“You can't... you wouldn't be saying this... not if you knew...” Gabriel's voice fills with emotion, waning in and out. “What he... has planned for you..”
Eden gives a half-smile.
“Torture? Violence? I can handle him,” she says confidently, turning back to the room at large, her voice raising. “I did for a couple of years, right Hugh?” she asks, that winning smile she's known for firmly in place. It was just another version of the Ice Queen.
“I will give you anything in my power to give if you let her go,” Gabriel says, and she could feel his eyes on her.
“You have nothing I want, Dr. Baal,” Hugh dismisses with a wave of his hand. “But Eden... she can make me a fortune.”
“The fuck are you talking about, Hugh?” Eden asks, unable to hide her biting derision for the man before her. “I'll do nothing for you.”
“Do you know how many men and women in this world would pay for a night with Eden Morgan?” Hugh asks, genuinely curious.
Eden looks from Gabriel to Hugh, back to Gabriel again, then back to Hugh.
“Wait... you think I'm going to play high-class hooker for you?” she asks, her laughter echoing around the walls of the chamber. “Right, yeah, sure-- let me get my thigh-highs on,” she says, finishing with a very unladylike snort, but considering the situation...
“Eden... He's not messing around,” Gabriel warns.
Eden rolls her eyes.
“Neither am I,” she says to Gabriel before looking to Hugh again. “Tell me, will you provide handcuffs or should I bring my own?” she asks with just a hint of annoyance.
Hugh sighs, seeming to be asking for patience, but she knew that look. Everything was well in hand, and just the idea of that makes her blood run cold.
“Eden. See sense. Your days will slide into weeks, weeks into months, months into years. Eventually, you'll learn that you only see the light of day when visiting my guests. And when they're done, you'll be taken back to your cell where you'll be chained up and wait for your next appointment. Eventually, you'll never want these appointments to stop. You'll learn to crave them, to need them. After long? They'll be the only joy you have left in your miserable life,” Hugh's eyes are locked on hers as he speaks, revealing the true horror of his plans for her.
She couldn't maintain it, the Ice Queen slipping away under the threat he'd just laid out. Eden freezes in front of him, her heart fluttering in her chest so hard and so fast it felt like a small animal trying to escape the bars of a cage. Everything she'd ever feared, being locked away, it was exactly what he was offering her, was telling her her life would be. There was the fear that he would be wrong, and the fear that he would be right..
“Stop.”
Eden hears Gabriel's single word distantly, fear working its icy tendrils through her as Hugh reaches out and slides his hand over her cheek. His hand moves down her neck and over her collarbone and still she doesn't move, panic setting in. Her pupils dilate, eyes growing wild as her breath speeds up.
“I will give you everything I know. I will sign over every one of my businesses. I will stay here, locked away in the darkness forever. Please, Hugh. Let her go.” Gabriel's voice was still distant, but closer than it had been. Eden blinks, frowning as fingers slide over her naked arms before hands slip inside the openings meant for her arms... and were suddenly gone.
Gabriel stands between her and Hugh, his hand around Hugh's throat, squeezing.
“Fucking stop,” he growls.
“Gabriel! No!” Eden says, the panic still strong within her as she looks around in wide-eyed terror at the threatening faces around them. He had to get out, had to get out, she'd find a way...
“Listen to the bitch, Baal, or I'll make you watch as I break every bone in her body,” Hugh gets out.
Gabriel slowly pulls his hand away, but stays between them. Hugh rubs his throat, turning his head this way and that.
“Good boy, doing as you're told, like a good little lapdog,” he mocks, gloating as Gabriel's hands tense. “Maybe we should keep you around. You can change the sheets in her bed chambers. Mop the floors. Make sure everything is set up just how my clients like it,” Hugh sneers.
Gabriel tenses, Eden pressing her forehead to his back.
“Gabriel... please...” she says softly so only he can hear, her hands fisting in his shirt tightly before pushing around him. “Let him go. Let him go, and I'll do whatever you want.”
“No can do, sweetheart. The Order would revolt. They want him neutered,” Hugh answers, a few murmurs of ascent rippling through those around her.
“I'll convince them. All of them,” Eden says boldly. “And you,” she smiles at Hugh, even though the very act turns her stomach.
“Like I could be so easily won over,” the Father of the Inferno says derisively, but he was watching her now.
Eden feels Gabriel tense, reaching out quickly to squeeze his arm. Shhh, the gesture said.
“Oh come on, Hugh, you know I know what you like,” she says, looking up at him from beneath thick lashes. Even with the dirt smudged on her face, she was still beautiful. “And you have all the power now. It's not like I could say no to anything, is it?” she asks, managing a perfectly flirtatious pout, still squeezing Gabriel's arm.
Hugh stares at her, mouth agape, Eden's mouth dry, not sure if she'd managed it... it was nothing near what she could normally pull off, but given the circumstances...
“Fine. Fine,” Hugh agrees with a smile, Eden catching a glimpse of a sudden movement, Caleb stepping out and watching the scene with his jaw clenched.
“Good,” she smiles as though she were happy with the deal they'd made. “Now let me say my goodbyes,” she says, turning to face Gabriel again, the smile leaving her face. “Listen to me... I need you to go,” she says, and it's all she can do to keep the tremor out of her voice. It was the last thing she wanted to say, all she wanted to do was to throw herself in his arms and cry, beg him not to leave her, but she had to get him out. Instead of clinging to him, she pushes him back some. “ I need you to go and get them out. All of them,” she manages, feeling her heart breaking.
She looks around, finding Caleb again, his eyes on her. Her lips curl viciously in his direction.
“Cal too. Jenny... She needs,” she trails off, closing her eyes and breathing out heavily. “I don't know, just... get them all away from here and safe,” she says hurriedly, the panic rising again. The darkness was waiting for her. The dark and the things inside it that would crawl over her flesh, that she could never quite touch, that would squirm inside her head and never leave...
“Eden, I won't leave you in a cell,” Gabriel says quietly.
She pushes the panic back down in order to deal with his stubbornness.
“You won't have to,” she says, reaching up to smooth her hand down his face. He starts to speak and she shakes her head. “Listen to me. If you've ever trusted me... please, listen,” she says frantically, her eyes filling with tears. “I've made hard choices before, and rarely have they been good ones. But I can make them. I can stop this, so I'll do what I have to do. But you won't leave me in a cell,” she assures him, the tears finally spilling down her cheeks.
“Eden... I can't...” he gets out.
“You can, and you will,” she says, looking away from his face and straightening his shirt as she had so many times before. She smooths a hand over his chest as her voice cracks, Gabriel pulling her in for a tight hug.
It was all it took for the floodgates to open, all the strength she'd stored up melting away in a torrent of tears.
“I'll get you out,” he assures her.
“You know as well as I do there's no way I'm getting out of here,” she says emptily. “But I promise you, Gabriel, I won't live my life in a cell.” She pulls back, making eye contact, willing him to understand. “I'll do what I have to do,” she says with full certainty. “I've done it before. You just need to get free first,” she says.
She breathes a sigh of relief as Gabriel seems to understand. She forestalls his protests with a mild shush.
“Man up, Doctor,” she says with a smile, breaking through the tears. “Make good choices. Don't stay locked away. Meet people, make friends. The conventional way, you know what I mean,” she says with a little laugh, smoothing her hand over the stubble on his jaw again. “Promise me you'll see the Maldives, yeah? Even though you think it's silly. And that you'll let Jenny help you with your closet because I shudder to think what it'll look like after...” she trails off, trying to hold back a sob at the anguish on his face. “I suppose I was always bound to leave you broken,” she says sadly.
She goes to pull away, Gabriel pulling her in against him once more. She didn't want to let him go any more than he did her. It was the last time she would ever see him, she didn't know how to say goodbye, there weren't enough words, there was never enough time, how could she possibly say--
Her eyes widen in shock as she feels the prick of the needle, a gasp of surprise leaving her lips. It was fanciful, but she could swear she heard as the final bit in the syringe entered her body and he drew the needle out of her neck with tears in his eyes.
“Eden, I--” he begins, Eden shaking her head, smiling at him, realizing what he'd done.
“Shhhhh,” she shushes him gently. They'd given those around them enough of a show. “I know. Me too.”
Her breathing starts to grow more and more shallow, having to fight to draw each breath, her eyes on his as she smiles at him one last time and pulls in her last breath. Her eyelids slide closed, the air rattling as it leaves her body and she slips to the ground.
So wake me up when it's all over
When I'm wiser and I'm older
All this time I was finding myself
And I didn't know I was lost
So wake me up when it's all over
When I'm wiser and I'm older
All this time I was finding myself
And I didn't know I was lost
When I'm wiser and I'm older
All this time I was finding myself
And I didn't know I was lost
So wake me up when it's all over
When I'm wiser and I'm older
All this time I was finding myself
And I didn't know I was lost