Post by Alyssa Daniels on Jun 24, 2018 21:43:46 GMT -5
“One year later.” The scene is familiar, yet ominous. Blood red clouds fill the sky, swirling about violently in their apparent unrest. The feeling of pure serenity is gone, replaced by a growing dread of things to come. Where once a magnificent tree full of beautiful green leaves and small buds made of solid gold, now stands its complete opposite. The deep browns of the once healthy bark now show off grays and putrid greens. The branches are void of leaves entirely leaving only the buds behind. And the buds - oh dear God, the buds! - have given up their shiny golden shell for a shriveled, blackened, fragile exterior. The buds that have opened show blacks and greens to replace the majestic pinks and blues. The tree is not quite dead but it cannot be far from that now. The Tree of Souls now appears to be a living corpse. A figure approaches from the hill just beyond the tree. Even in the red gloom, her pink hair shines bright and stands out. The more you look, the less she seems like she exists in this environment. Her torn jeans and black tank-top appear to pierce through the haze. The dead grass crumbles beneath her feet as she leaves her footprint with every step, proving her presence. Alyssa Daniels shines true even in the grim gloom. “One year was all it took. One year ago, Nemesis paced around this very tree. He admired her beauty, her leaves, her flowers, her buds. One year ago, Nemesis set out to begin his destruction of a world he felt no longer worthy to prolong. He scoffed at the notion that he was a demon, stating simply that he transcends our timelines and dates back to before the Tree’s release of souls into the Guf. He declared that Salvation would take control of the Battleground, that he and Devereaux would cleanse it of the filth of mediocrity.” For the first time, Alyssa looks up at the decaying tree. Her eyes fill only with sadness at the sight. Not despair. Not regret. Not defeat. Pure and raw sadness. Though her eyes glimmer, not a single tear falls. “His words rang true, amplified by the lies of his intent.” She steps toward the trunk of the tree and reaches out to feel it. Where her fingers should rest against the solid trunk, they instead sink in slightly and leave her handprint embedded in the bark. The gloomy red skies take this moment to shine down upon the handprint, giving it a very familiar look. Alyssa grimaces at the sight. The symbol of destruction. The symbol of Salvation. “One year ago, the path to Salvation truly took form. With his victory in the Guerrilla Warfare match, he was able to bring his darkness to this realm and cast a shadow upon the Battleground, a shadow that has yet to be lifted. Devereaux did not join him, but instead became a casualty, a stone marking the path. That damned handprint has marked the Union Battleground Championship ever since. In the year since, neither Devereaux nor Kassidy could pry that championship away from him.” Alyssa finds a low hanging bud, shriveled and black. She reaches up and strokes it gently with a finger. Seemingly at the touch, the bud begins to quiver. She steps away and watches with curiosity. After a few seconds, the bud peels open with a sound reminiscent of a gasp. Flecks of rotted green fluid spurt forth as a red glowing orb of light emerges. The light travels toward a decrepit-looking dovecote and enters, waiting to be selected to enter the world. “Many would follow the path. Even beyond the force in the ring, t-shirts with a simple red handprint began appearing out in the crowd, out on the streets. They followed his tune like innocent children followed the pied piper. It was never a path they were meant to walk, but they walked it anyway. They thought they simply embraced being different, but it was more. They embraced the end of all things.” She looks up at the rest of the shriveled buds. “It is said that when the last soul descends from the Tree of Souls, the world will come to an end. I fear that this may soon come to pass if something isn’t done.” Alyssa lowers her gaze to the tree trunk. “One year ago, Nemesis cast his shadow.” Her eyes narrow in determination. “One year later, the darkness will clear. One year later, Guerrilla Warfare will set in motion events that will shatter the tyranny of Salvation. One year later, the path walked by the damned begins to narrow, becoming too difficult for some to push through. Nemesis, with only one thug remaining at his side, knows that his grip is slipping. He knows that, should he survive Devereaux, he will have to face his reckoning, face the person who follows the same path he walked just one year ago. This time, there won’t be a shadow. This time, the Battleground will not be lead to ruin. This time...” Alyssa, who had approached the tree trunk once more, places her hand onto the glowing red handprint left before. She cries out in pain, the handprint now burning her palm, but she does not pull away. She closes her eyes and focuses through the pain as she leans into the tree. After a few seconds, the tree around her hand begins to glow white, not the eery red that dominates the scene. With a gasp, she pulls her hand back and pulls it close to her body. Where Alyssa’s hand had been now shows the deep brown of a healthy tree. Her eyes light up as she smiles. “This time, there is hope! There is light! Where the darkness reigns, light always returns to wash it away. The night is always darkest just before the dawn. And Guerrilla Warfare? That is our chance to take it back. If there’s anything the Battleground should know about me by now, it’s that there is no challenge too big for me. They should know that I am not intimidated by a match that will feature the vast majority of the Battleground roster and even more from beyond. I am not intimidated by the idea that my reward for winning such a battle could be to face the undefeated timeless creature of darkness. In my short time here, I’ve had plenty thrown at me and I’ve never backed down. I stood as the final member of an all-star team against Salvation and I did not waver. I sent Legion scurrying from the Battleground after beating her both times she stood against me. I felt the betrayal of the first man to ever give me a chance in this business and I got back up. Salvation wanted a war and I gave them one, even as others faltered. Salvation used every tool in their kit to destroy me and I emerged from the wreckage every time. I do not need to disappear to regroup like Dick Devereaux. I do not run when the tide shifts like Legion and Diemos. I do not live in my own little world like Emery Layton, praying that the boogeyman won’t one day come for me. From the moment I arrived, I fought the battles no one else wanted to fight. I made the enemies everyone hoped they’d never make. I stood strong where the best of the Battleground fell! And with each day that passes, I only get faster, stronger, better. And I know what’s at stake here.” She waves her hand at the decaying tree. “This. Salvation has ruled the Battleground for too long. Some of the Battleground’s best kept their blinders on and refused to take up the fight for whatever reason. I cannot, I will not let them go unchecked. That is exactly why I need this. That is why this is the most important battle of my career. I’m willing to fight the battles and wars that others aren’t. I’m willing to look into the eyes of the monsters that give you nightmares and never flinch. Where others flee, I throw punches. Where others dip their toes, I cannonball off the high dive. There will be many, many fighters that run down to that ring when their name is called. They all hope they’ve bought that winning lottery ticket. Me? I know that this match will be complete hell. I’m prepared to leave everything I have in the tank out there. I’m ready to face every bit of adversity, every surprise twist, and every man and woman who are brave enough to enter Guerrilla Warfare. But when the chips are on the table, I know what’s at stake. I have to be all in here. None of us can afford to play it safe.” Alyssa walks up to another nearby bud and reaches for it. “One year ago, Salvation took over the Battleground.” She places an index finger and her thumb on the top and bottom of the bud. Slowly, a solid gold shell expands where she touches the bud, encasing it once again. “One year later, I’m taking it back.” Once the golden bud is restored, it opens to reveal the majestic pink and blue flower. The white orb of light floats amidst the gloom toward the dovecote. The view follows the light on its path as it approaches and disappears into the opening. From it, the Battleground shall be born anew. |