Dramaturgy.

Back of the stage.

A weight lifted from her shoulders.

Or a burden.

To be honest, she wasn't entirely sure which one was true, but there was a sense of serenity that came with the realization. No longer did she possess the only piece of gold that made her relevant to the world. In the past, sure, that would've eaten away at her; it would've killed her inside; made her contemplate hanging it up like every minor conflict in her life prior did.

But this one was an exception to the rule.

This time was different. She believed in a world that she desperately tried to stay away from and, because she had faith for one second, it burned her. You could be mad, furious even, but she smiled. Do you know how tiring it is to pretend to be someone you're not? It's very exhausting; she'd be the first to tell you that. After all, she's an expert in that field after all these years. No, she wasn't upset over the loss; while you never want to lose, you need to be strategic about your career.

In her mind, she was the big fish in a small pond. But no longer. Once again, she was in the ocean, where she felt like she belonged. Whether she was swimming in the current, treading water, or found herself gasping for air, it didn't matter. She was at home. Of course, the path to getting here wasn't an easy one; at this stage in her life, she would've preferred that. But the opportunity to dance with a forbidden flame presented itself and; who was she to pass up a chance like that? Another feather in her cap.

Though, in the process of doing that, she wondered to herself if the price of admission to get back home was worth it. After all, this home wasn't her "home." The truth is, once she returned to North Dakota, she never left. The thought of this was the only thing that could damper an otherwise peaceful moment of reflection. She wouldn't return to her house hundreds of miles away after every show; instead, she went back to the barely functional hotel. And in the depressingly simple room that looked like every other room, she called herself the number one contender to the only active championship worth fighting for in wrestling today. That was her life now.

Yet, deep down, she knew that something was keeping her there.

"There's something keeping me here."

See? That one sentence that slipped into her subconscious at least once a night when she closed her eyes atop the rough mattress.

At first, she thought it was the guilt of being an awful person, but that was a fleeting thought. We know that she made peace with that. It was instead this dreading feeling of normalcy that was starting to seep into her daily routine. In this nowhere town full of nobodies, she was somebody. Being the newest face around meant that everyone knew her. She was becoming a regular. And for once, she didn't hate it.

When you think of what makes someone world championship material, you don't think of a person going to the same diner every morning for a cup of coffee that made her wince with every sip, but given that it's the only option in town, you learn to accept it because you don't know any better. When you think of someone with a killer instinct, you don't think of someone who smiles back at every person in town because it's the polite thing to do.

But that's who she was now, at least temporarily who she was. One weekend a month, she'd travel across the country to get her head smashed into a mat and then fly right back into town like it was another day at the office. And like that cup of coffee, she didn't know any better either. That was her life; that was their life. The longer she thought about it, the fewer differences she saw.

Nobody cared that she was a professional wrestler; nobody cared that someone was a grocery store cashier. They were careers. You do your job, and that's it. There ain't any time left to chase dreams, they'd tell you. Now, people are counting on you to do your work, and you better do it.

That is what she brings to the front of the stage.

"I've come across many men who call themselves monsters. Very rarely do they live up to that reputation, but when I hear those words uttered by you...I believe them."

She looked up from the blanket she sat upon. We've been here before. It felt like she needed to be here. Never one to be spiritual, but something wanted her here. This time it was silent; no gusts of wind whistling through as the snow fell around her. Everything felt perfect for this occasion, and it made her uneasy.

Just like he did. She couldn't quite pinpoint why. Maybe it was the dead eyes. Or perhaps it was the obsession with being recognized.

"I've seen what you've done. I know what you're capable of doing. But we both understand you're not invincible. We also recognize the reality of the greatness you cusp in your hands; that you can't quite wrap your fingers around. When I watch you, I see someone who deserves to be among the greats. You're different from everyone else; you know it. You can look into someone and see what everyone else can't. I've watched you deconstruct everyone who has come across your path, I know that I will not be spared from that. It'd be insulting if I was."

"But what's holding you back? You've had the success to be among the greats, but no one really cares, do they? And that's not fair to you. I care. I think you're great. I think that in a sea where everyone looks and acts the exact same, you're the exception. Though, the more I try to understand you and figure out who you are...the more I start to doubt what I'm seeing."

A soft sigh. A unique song and dance rang out in her mind. She'd seen this in someone before, someone who spoke passages like those ripped from holy books. Too smart for their own good, the babbling of an unhinged street-corner preacher, his genius reduced down for the common man to hear. And what a shame that it works.

"You pulled a man's eye out and traded it in for a championship. You make me look tame when I'm covered in blood. Yet, in this desperate attempt to separate yourself from the pack, you become like everybody else. You speak, I listen, but what starts off so strong falls apart. Every. Single. Time. You stop being this beautiful monster and instead become another carbon copy professional wrestler when we know you can be so much more. Why do you continually sell yourself so short?"

A genuine expression of disappointment painted itself on her face. A crunch in the snow around her could be heard in the same instance. Her eyes were no longer focused, her mind continuing on without her.

"For someone as neurotic as yourself, it must eat away at you too. I know you're not an idiot. You pander to people you've never met in an attempt to impress them. When you should be dominating this industry and leaving nothing standing in your warpath, you're too busy becoming the antithesis to what you ought to be. Trust me when I say I understand what it means to be a hypocrite, but at least I'm aware of it. Why is it that you choose to hide the monster? Don't worry, I think I've got an idea. And what is that idea, you ask?"

Nobody asked, but she's got a smile on her face nonetheless. But she's still not focused on you as another impression in the snow can be heard. Nevertheless, she persists.

"That idea, what you present to us, it's just a mask."

Sounds familiar, doesn't it?

"A soft-spoken killer, but you've never drawn a meaningful drop of blood in your life. You partook in ending a man's career when you plucked his eye from his skull, but you didn't have the guts to finish the job. You've got to take pride in what you kill. And when you do it, you can't take away one part of it. You need to use the whole body. You need to eat their heart because that is what you lack. You've got everything, but a heart. And once upon a time, I believe you had it, but you sold out to become something you're not, and with that went the heart you flashed us..."

"What a fucking tragedy."

That snaps her back as she refocuses on what's ahead of her; no more distractions for the time being. Whatever was in the snow can wait. There's Union gold to be won, don't you know?

"The mystique is gone. You ruined it. Your kind always does; a wrestler with ideas. You breakthrough like no one else, but you dedicate so much time mimicking your opponents that you forget who you're meant to be. And when you have no more ideas remaining, you're left with a mouthful of blood, and you become like the rest. You stripped the gold away from her because she too became just like you."

"Uninspired."

"You're part of the crowd. Me? I no longer have any vices, no intoxicating, budding romance in my life. I have nothing except professional wrestling. You no longer want to be the monster. Normally it's when you capture that championship that you lose that desire; however, she and you managed to go limp like every set of champions before you."

This was a reality she was all too aware of. It wasn't lost on her that she might as well have been looking in a mirror. But it was that hunger that warmed her up.

"I know that when I kill someone's career, I'm going to harvest all that's to be harvested. Every time I get an opportunity like this, I can feel all of those tortured, lost souls coursing through my veins. When I taste my blood, I know they're still there, waiting for me to fail and give them a chance to take back what's theirs. But that's why you've got to strip them of their heart. Kill their passion. And it pains me to look at you and know that you're just skin and bones."

"You can talk about hunger, but you don't know the meaning of it if you haven't starved as I have. I've faced a man who claimed to be The Butcher; not even was he as hungry as I am. I fought The Monster King that sought to consume every piece of land in front of him, but he wasn't as hungry as I am. And The Mother of Monsters I defeated to get to you...she wasn't as hungry as I am either. But at least they had that hunger. I look at you when you say it and I don't even think you're foolish enough to believe that bullshit."

A regular monster slayer, but that didn't make her a hero. However, those names were just names, part of the job, remember? They did make her smile, though this name won't be as lucky.

"That championship on your shoulders is anemic; it's begging for some life. It's been years since someone carried that Union Battleground Championship and gave it the credibility that it rightfully deserves. And in all of this, I think you've tricked yourself into believing that you're the one. You think you've become the man you need to be to rule this kingdom. They've given you the keys, but they don't realize like we do that you're not ready."

Now, this would be the part of the show where she'd repeat herself. But this show was different. It was different from the start as she stood up from the blanket and took a few steps forward; that unmistakable crunch was heard with each gentle movement. A few paces forward, the field was gone and replaced with white walls, though the snow still fell.

This show has only just begun.

"Because every thought you have, I have too. Every time you breathe, I breathe with you. On the surface, we're the same. We're a ticking time bomb waiting for that one loss to set us off the deep end. Unfortunately for one of us, I think Coup de Grace is gonna be when that bomb sets off. And it's not looking great for you. After all, you said it best yourself; your story started long ago, at Lights Out, you wrapped it up. But I've wet the ink, ready to write another chapter in mine."

"And this is when you start to fall apart. I want you to keep up. While we've never crossed paths before, I have this feeling that you want to beat me. Scratch that, I know you need to beat me. The thought of who I am irritates you beyond belief. This is when you lose that animalistic instinct you possess; this is when you get sloppy. Are you keeping up? When the words start flowing because you feel that same bitterness that I feel, but you can't control it. There's not a single narrative in your life or your career that you can control."

Her heart is starting to beat a bit faster; you can feel it, can't you? He can't. The snow stopped falling; we've gone off the stage now. Her eyes are starting to pierce through more than ever before.

"I possess your fate in my hands. It's my hands that hold yours; I decide whether I break yours away from greatness or I allow you to embrace it. That championship doesn't dictate it; your actions alone will never be enough to dictate it. Your entire career revolved around the fact that someone was better than you; that doesn't stop at Coup de Grace. And it doesn't stop after that either. Years after I'm buried in the ground, you'll still be chasing someone better than you'll ever be."

She spoke the words as if she had witnessed this future herself. And in truth, she had; just a different face and name attached to it this time around. Now she had started to walk again, the white room turning into a white corridor. It was time to make her exit.

"So take back everything you threw at her because you'll need it for me. I don't care what you've done to yourself. When I heard you say that nobody wants to stand across from the man who inflicts pain on himself and others, I laughed. The sadomasochistic wrestler, I've yet to see that one. Do you understand it hurts me to have to say that? I've seen the monster in you, but it's not one you unleash in the ring."

"It's one you've set upon yourself. He did what he was meant to do; now he's dead and gone too. No feathers left behind. Another career you've failed to ravage. Another heart left beating; a rotting corpse. If only during all this time you had taken someone's spine from them. Collect whatever you feel is necessary from me, but understand that I'm taking your championship gold whether you do or not. I don't care. You do. That is your downfall."

A tsk as she changed her perspective on us. Walking backward now, we can see the opening to an alleyway; people and vehicles passing by, a glimpse into the real world.

"And to be honest, I lied when I said we were the same. I needed to keep your attention. I understand that I am not your galactic princess, but I do promise you that I am something much, much worse. I will beat you, I will take the Union Unified Championship from you, and I will be the sole beating heart of this company."

In case you forgot, there was an arrogant smirk that accompanied her closing remark as she came to a stop at the opening of the alleyway. You weren't keeping you, were you?

"Miles Lucky, you are no monster."

Remember the cracked mask.

"However, Anastasia Hayden is."

And then, the door closed on us.