The Leroy Jenkins Breach
With Emma firmly secured at Hailey's side, her hand wrapped tightly around the strap of Hailey's tactical vest to keep her close in the storm, the time for shadow walking was officially over. The covert phase of the night was dead. Now, it was time for the main event.
Kirsten and Hailey marched side by side through the sheet-like rain toward the towering double doors of the main estate, with Emma tucked safely directly behind Hailey's shoulder. They did not duck behind stone pillars. They did not scan the tree line for hidden security cameras. This was no longer a rescue operation, this was an act of total war. The meticulous, calculated game of chess had died the moment Emma's vacant, drugged eyes had looked through Kirsten in the dark.
And now, Kirsten and Hailey were going to handle business in the exact opposite manner from how Kirsten had escaped years ago.
They reached the reinforced front doors of the estate. The towering oak portals were heavily fortified with iron bands and cross-bracing, built to withstand a battering ram. To anyone else, it was an impassable wall. To Kirsten and Hailey's industrial loadout, it was merely an obstacle waiting to be vaporized. Hailey reached behind her back, keeping one protective arm pinned in front of Emma, and pulled two compact breaching charges from her tactical harness. She slapped them cleanly over the door's heavy steel hinges. Kirsten unspooled the short lead wire, stepping back three paces as Hailey shielded Emma with her own body against the stone archway.
It was then that Kirsten thumbed the detonator.
A deafening, concussive boom exploded across the courtyard. The reinforced oak doors were ripped off their heavy iron tracks, blowing violently inward with a blinding shower of wooden splinters, twisted metal, and smoke. The shockwave was so massive that even the pounding thunder overhead and the deafening bass of the party music inside were instantly swallowed by the blast.
Inside the grand foyer, the music cut out in an instant. Alcohol spilled across the polished marble floor as dozens of intoxicated donors, corrupt investors, and cult handlers froze in absolute terror.
As the thick white smoke began to clear, a sharp flash of lightning illuminated the threshold. Standing in the jagged, smoking frame of the destroyed doorway were Kirsten and Hailey, with Emma hovering right behind Hailey's hip, shielding her ears from the ringing echo of the explosion. They stepped over the shattered pieces of iron and burning oak, breaching the grand hall with terrifying, methodical precision.
The panic was instantaneous.
Wealthy donors scattered in a screaming, chaotic stampede, knocking over display tables, crystal glasses, and black candles in a desperate bid to reach the side exits. But the cult's personal security detail, brainwashed zealots eager to prove their worth, drew heavy steel truncheons and rushed the entry bay.
They never stood a chance.
Hailey let years of repressed, burning rage fly with terrifying violence, ensuring no one got within arm's reach of Emma behind her. As the first guard lunged forward, Hailey ducked underneath his wild swing and drove the solid iron end of her weighted lead pipe straight into his sternum. The impact sounded like a cracking branch. Without missing a beat, she spun on her heel, slamming the pipe into the side of a second guard's knee, dropping him screaming to the floor.
Beside her, Kirsten operated as the apex predator she was forged to be. The lethal threat assessment of "The One" activated with cold, mechanical efficiency. She did not swing wildly; she dismantled.
When a guard tried to tackle her from the flank, Kirsten stepped into his stride, caught his outstretched wrist, and snapped his elbow backward over her shoulder. Before he could hit the floor, she unholstered her tactical stun baton, driving the active contacts into his ribs. A blinding arc of high-voltage electricity snapped through the air, sending violent convulsions through his torso before his body went completely limp. This level of violence from Kirsten brought out a smile in Hailey.
They pushed straight through the heart of the party, a two-woman battering ram cutting down anyone foolish enough to stand in their path, keeping Emma protected in the pocket between them. The chaos triggered every emergency alarm in the estate. Red strobe lights began flashing against the stained glass windows, siren horns wailing from the high ceiling. But between the sheer brutality of the breach and the hysterical stampede of patrons tripping over one another, the Prophets' contingency protocols were completely useless.
A small cluster of guards attempted to flank around the grand staircase, hoping to slip behind Kirsten and Hailey to snatch Emma away. Kirsten anticipated the move instantly. She grabbed a metal can of industrial accelerant from her belt, unscrewed the cap, and hurled the liquid across the base of the wooden stairs, tossing a lit road flare into the puddle. A roaring wall of orange flame erupted instantly, cutting off the hallway and illuminating the entire foyer in brilliant, terrifying light.
Through the rising smoke and scattering crowd, Kirsten's eyes locked onto two figures huddled near the grand fireplace.
It was her mother and father.
They looked thoroughly dilapidated, downtrodden, and defeated, two frail, foolish people shrinking away from the chaos they had helped fund. Kirsten closed the distance, stepping between them and the burning staircase, while Hailey pulled Emma up beside her. Kirsten checked her parents over with a quick, clinical sweep of her eyes, confirming they were physically unharmed. She looked her father dead in the eye, her voice cutting through the wailing emergency sirens.
Kirsten Scott: Can I trust you both to watch and protect her while we finish this?
Hailey whirled around, her lead pipe dripping with grease and rain, her eyes wide with disbelief as she kept a firm grip on Emma's arm.
Hailey Brooks: Oh hell no... We are NOT trusting them with Emma!
Kirsten Scott: Listen to me... They are victims of this machine, too, and they want to be free. They are not patrons anymore... They are prisoners. For once in their pathetic lives, they are worth trusting...
Kirsten's father looked up, his shoulders trembling. His voice was soft, stripped of all the arrogance and prestige he had worn for decades, leaving only deep remorse and fear.
Kirsten's Father: Hailey... You have our word. We will protect her with our lives...
Hailey Brooks: Your word means absolutely nothing to me!
Kirsten Scott: It is all we have right now, Hailey. Look at her... Look at them. Trust me...
Hailey Brooks: UGH!
Hailey let out a frustrated growl, but as she looked down, she saw Emma naturally lean toward Kirsten's parents. The concussive blast from the front door had helped clear the heavy fog of the sedatives from Emma's brain, and a flicker of genuine recognition and safety registered in her eyes. Reluctantly, Hailey let go of Emma's hand. Emma crossed the short gap, taking a seat on the stone hearth as Kirsten's mother wrapped a trembling, protective arm around her shoulders.
Hailey looked back at Kirsten, her knuckles white on her weapon.
Hailey Brooks: Fine... Then let us go finish this right fucking NOW...
Kirsten's lips pulled back into a cold, lethal grin.
Kirsten Scott: Thought you would never ask...
Kirsten grabbed her remaining equipment, turning toward the grand, sweeping staircase that led directly up to the inner sanctum. The time for ground-level clearing was over, the gods of The Compound were waiting at the top.
----------------------------------------
PROMO... And everyone, there you have it! The world has finally borne witness to the exact kind of tag team "The Vision" claims to be. And let me just say... Unfortunately for them, there are no... And let me make sure I get this absolutely right...
#Visionaries
#Innovators
#Revolutionaries
... anywhere between the two of them!
They proved it the second they opened their mouths, espoused a wall of nonsensical bullshit, and tried their absolute BEST to come across as... Oh, I don't know... Funny? Unique? Insightful? ANYTHING worth listening to! Instead, they resorted to showing the entire world exactly who they truly are. And that was all I needed to see to understand what Scarlet and I are up against, and precisely what it is going to take to smash their respective faces into the canvas and walk out with the victory.
You see, these two are the absolute epitome of walking, talking contradictions. They attempt to come at me for supposedly stepping into business that isn't mine, and then immediately follow it up by allowing a steady stream of santorum to flow right out of their mouths. They say things that simply do not add up.
And let me say directly to Glory's offspring... Your little tantrum on camera was actually pretty cute. It exposed your vulnerabilities. It laid out your exact structural weaknesses for everyone in this locker room to see. I know nothing about why you have this massive, pathetic bone to pick with your own mother. It isn't because you don't matter... It's because I simply do not care enough about you or Glory to keep up with your family therapy sessions! And yet, you puffed up your little chesticles so damn fast, forcing your little lovebean to physically calm you down ON CAMERA, mind you, that I could instantly see how ridiculously simple of a person you are.
You aren't some complex, misunderstood individual who is out here trying to "right the wrongs" of your... Honestly... FAR SUPERIOR mother. You are an ungrateful, entitled brat who is so profoundly pissed off that you can't even hold a candle to her legacy, that you let a simple comment from someone like me send you flying completely off the fucking deep end.
So simple... So utterly lacking in depth...
And yet you have the audacity to try and justify your existence in this division by talking about what? SIX wins together? You are this worked up, and this insufferably ENTITLED, after SIX wins? My GOD ALMIGHTY, good for you! If six wins is the official benchmark for unearned arrogance in SCW, I must have missed the memo! Because unlike you two, I have actually accomplished things in this company. I have legendary wins, major title matches, and massive upsets attached to my name. I don't sound like a pathetic twerp of a child who was weaned off Mommy's teat way too young.
But YOU do!
You sound like someone who is utterly terrified because someone finally called you out on your bullshit. You think it's your divine right to run your mouth and have people bow down and listen. But people aren't listening because you have something PROFOUND to say, Mels... They are tuning in because everyone wants to see what Glory's daughter is going to whine and cry about next, simply because she will NEVER be as good as Mama!
Kirsten pauses, taking a slow step forward as her expression shifts from cold amusement to utter disdain, turning her gaze toward the camera.
Now... Fifi...
Since I've at least acknowledged Melsy, I figure I should address you for a brief second. Typically, I wouldn't waste my breath on someone who acts as a professional enabler for another entitled twat, but I want to make sure you hear me loud and clear.
I am NOT out here playing hero.
I am simply beating the absolute fuck out of two ungrateful twatwaffles who fancy themselves as bullies!
And you enabling your pal Mels to get all up in her feels about this situation? All that is doing is ensuring that the inevitable ass-kicking you are both going to receive sucks ten times worse.
Like I said... This isn't about me playing a knight in shining armor. This isn't about me spreading myself thin on a night where I have double duty. This is about doing something that I would have wanted someone to do for me back when I was coming up in this business. I have been there. I have been the one who was completely outnumbered, with nobody standing in my corner to back me up. I have been the one forced to endure whatever dirty tactics everyone threw at me, praying I could just stand up and fight back.
And it sucks... I won't pretend it doesn't.
So when you two played those pathetic little gang-up games with Scarlet, it triggered something deep inside me. It made me want to step out through those curtains and do what nobody ever did for me. Scarlet could have handled her business on her own... Just like I always had to... But I knew exactly how she felt wanting to even the odds, so I obliged.
And now, I get to open my night at Rise to Greatness by utterly embarrassing Melsypoo and FeeFiFoFum. Plus... Once the dust clears, I get the immense pleasure of reminding Mels that her mommy is STILL superior to her in every conceivable way!
So bring however much piss and vinegar you two wish to bring to the ring. But remember...
#UUDDLRLRBABASel+Start
#Means
#YourWorld
#GoesDark
Bye bitchesssssss!