Click.

    Clack.

A pair of scuffed, knee-high boots click along the baron road. How long she’s walked in heels that high, no one knows. One foot in front of the other, she steps towards the horizon. But her direction? Her destination?

 Click.

    Clack.

Even she doesn’t know.

Striking blue eyes peer out from beneath a worn, black hat and stare up at the heavens above, witnessing the passive death of another day as the sun begins stealing daylight from the sky – slowly changing it to a deep shade of indigo.

 Click.

    Clack.

There is no rest for the wicked as the boots continue clicking against the jagged pavement. The journey through the desert has been a long one. One long, straight road with no end in sight. Was she lost?

She hadn’t seen anyone, or anything for many, many years now. Her thirst hadn’t been quenched and her hunger hadn’t been satiated for just as long.

 Click.

    Clack.

Her boots never stopped.

The wind picks up around her, blowing sand across the road. A chill crawls up her spine and she pulls her leather jacket closer to her chest, the pin on her lapel blowing a kiss at her when she glances down at it. A smirk crosses her red painted lips as she continues on, deeper into the night.

“What once was lost, will soon be found – But only if fate wills it so.”

 Click.

    Clack.

And with every step, this dark lady was one step closer to being found.

 

The Day After Keeper of the Keys

The moment Lucy took the keys to this God forsaken house, she knew it was a mistake.

As she stared up at the ‘antiqued’ facade, stood in the driveway like a statue – that fact punched her right in the gut once more.

She did what she set out to do at Keeper of the Keys, she beat her former friend, her former partner… her former love, Magdalena Lockheart – and she walked out. She turned back, just once, simply to watch the EMT’s try and clean up the mess that she herself had just made.

Four Calamities from the Skies, she’d thought to herself as the EMT’s did their best to attach Maggie to the stretcher that Lucy’s body had crashed into with that fourth double rotation moonsault onto a woman she once cared deeply for.

The truth was, the Lucy of old would have stayed. She would have cried, apologized… Done anything she could to make up for what she’d done. Hell, she might have even let Maggie have a few good shots in retaliation when she was well enough to do so. Her guilt would have dictated everything she did next.

But the truth now? Lucy couldn’t find it in herself to care.

She didn’t feel anything about what had happened – And that feeling was an odd one for Lucy to deal with. It was a feeling she hadn’t felt since….

OWF.

Since she drove her estranged husband into the mat and beat him… and then broke him by standing over him and removing that haunting mask – The same mask that Maggie currently shames herself by wearing, revealing to him and the entire world that CJ Wyldes tormentor over the last half a year was none other than the woman he’d scorned.

As she drug herself up the steps and to the front door, she wondered what kind of reception she’d get from Morrie – A man who’d grown to care very much for Maggie, and CJ in turn. She wondered if her actions the night before would have changed the old man’s view of her.

And if it had?

Oh well.

Lucy Wylde was tired of worrying about what everyone thought about her and the decisions she made.

She reached out for the doorknob, only for the door to open – revealing the concerned face of Morrie as he looked her up and down.

“Oh, Lucy.. You look like–”

“Hell? Yeah, I feel like it too.”

Lucy replied, sliding past Morrie and into the house – dropping her bag by the door. Morrie shut the door behind them and followed Lucy as she limped towards the living room and sat gingerly down on the sofa, covering her eyes with her arm.

“I assume you saw the match.”

Lucy said flatly. She couldn’t see Morrie nod his head solemnly.

The old man had sat down the night before and turned on Keeper of the Keys, albeit hesitantly. He wasn’t sure he’d want to see the two women he’d cared for fight each other like animals, but something convinced him to turn on the old television set in CJ’s study and watch the show, as if he were watching it with CJ once more.

“I did.”

“Any thoughts?”

Lucy figured she might as well get the uncomfortable conversation out of the way, even though deep down she knew she wasn’t really too interested in Morrie’s opinion of what had happened. But was that because she felt like Morrie would side with Maggie? Or was it just because she wasn’t really interested in any opinion but her own?

…And maybe Rogan’s.

Finally, Morrie sighed as he came to sit on the chair adjacent to the couch, running his hands along the fabric of his freshly pressed slacks.

“It certainly wasn’t something I necessarily wanted to see, Lucy.”

Lucy sighed.

“Then why’d you watch?”

“Because I care.”

Lucy nodded her head, pulling her arm off of her face and sitting up. She knew he cared. He had to care. There would be no other reason for this man to have done everything he’d done for CJ in his final years, or Maggie thereafter. And as for Lucy? Morrie had absolutely no commitment to her, no attachment to the woman who left the man he truly cared for rot here, yet here he was, doing the very same things.

“I know you do.”

Silence settled between the two of them, and after a while Morrie excused himself and left the room. Lucy sat there for a while longer, just looking around the room as she thought about everything that led her to this point in her life.

She came back here because she was tired of living in a hotel room.

She came back here because she thought she wanted to be back in the home she’d fallen in love with all those years ago.

She came back here to do a favor for a… friend.

But when she came back, she was slapped in the face by a time capsule. Frozen in time at the very point where the marriage of CJ and Lucy Wylde had broken apart for the final time, never to be resurrected again. She hated it. She hated that everywhere she looked, she was harassed by memories she no longer wanted to be reminded of. She hated that the man she once loved was so pathetic that he couldn’t bear to move on with his life after HE messed everything up to begin with.

Most of all, she hated the fact that CJ Wylde bestowed something upon Magdalena Lockheart that wasn’t his to give away… A memory, an identity that Lucy was ashamed of. Yet no one understood how it made Lucy feel to be face to face with someone trying to fix her legacy WITH her legacy.

It made her blood boil.

”Maybe that’s why I did it.”

She heard the voice and she looked around the room, her eyes settling on the form of her ex-husband as he sat where Morrie had been sitting just a few minutes before. Her eyes widened at first, and she looked away – blinking a few times, and shaking her head, wondering if Maggie had hit her harder than she realized.

”It’s me.”

He said, as Lucy’s gaze fell on him once again.

“Haven’t you done enough damage for one lifetime? Gotta keep it going even in death, huh?”

Lucy said, her voice dry as a bone. CJ chuckled.

”You know me. It’d be a real shame to suffer through all that tedious labor and not even be present to watch the last domino fall..”

Lucy had had enough. She rose to her feet and headed for the front door, only to feel a cool breeze whip around her. She’d felt that feeling within this home enough to know that she didn’t really leave CJ in the living room where she hoped he’d stay.

”Running away again, huh, Jenova?”

He said, mockingly.

“I ain’t running from shit. I’ll be right back.”

 

Lucy came back through the front door about an hour later, lugging not only her tired, aching body, but a stack of moving boxes. All the commotion in the foyer drew Morrie out of the kitchen, and when he saw – his eyes widened as he rushed over to help her pull the boxes into the living room.

“Lucy, what ar–”

“I made a decision.”

Lucy replied, cutting Morrie off as she pulled a roll of tape out of a shopping bag and began putting together one of the boxes.

“…And what decision might that be?”

Morrie asked, his concern growing the longer he watches Lucy. But Lucy didn’t answer straight away. Instead she finished taping up the box and placed it on the ground in front of one of the many walls within this old farmhouse that held frame upon frame of memories. She grabbed one of them off the wall, and looked down at it.

It was a picture of CJ, his arm wrapped around a slightly shorter blonde woman – and in front of them, a little girl. All three of them looked happy. Lucy often wondered what CJ was like before the deaths of his first wife Allie, and his daughter Hope. She knew she’d fallen in love with a broken man, a man who’d given up on any hope of being happy again.

”I told you that you were my second chance. I wasn’t lying.”

Lucy ignored the voice and laid the picture in the bottom of the box before she reached up for another. And another. Morrie watched on, his eyes as wide as saucers.

“You’re–You’re…”

“I’m cleaning this place up. It’s about time, don’t you think?”

She didn’t want to live in a time capsule. She didn’t want to see what was. Lucy Wylde wanted to be surrounded by what is.

”This won’t change anything.”

CJ’s voice whispered in her ear, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d think that was desperation she heard in his voice. And it made a smile come to her face as she grabbed yet another picture off of the wall – This time, the picture of Lucy and CJ on their wedding day. The frame had been broken a few years back during an argument, and CJ had never bothered to get it repaired.

He simply put it back on the wall as it was… broken glass and all.

Lucy was so engrossed in what she was doing, she didn’t even notice Morrie leave the room, shaking his head – A look of frustration painted on the old man’s face. But was that frustration Morrie’s? Or was it put there by something else that Morrie couldn’t see?

She catches a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye as she places her wedding picture into the box along with everything else, and she glances over, expecting to see Morrie – but instead she sees CJ, glaring at her with his arms crossed.

”You honestly believe throwing all of this away is going to continue to hide you from the truth? You did see what you did last night, didn’t you?”

Lucy shakes her head.

“It’s a start.”

”You can’t hide forever.”

His words made her stand straight, but when she turned to address the ghost, she found herself face to face with nothing but air.

 

Thanksgiving

All the work Lucy had been putting in over the last few weeks (much to the chagrin of her tag team partner) was starting to pay off. Each time she stepped into the foyer of this home, she couldn’t help but look around to see how… empty it was starting to look.

Once she started that day in the living room, she couldn’t stop. Lucy became almost obsessed with ridding the house of everything that reminded her of everything that was.

And this day was no different.

She was determined to continue her warpath through the house.

Over the last few weeks, Lucy kept telling herself that she was only doing this because she didn’t want to live in the past. And while the sentiment was true – She had done a lot of growing over the last year or so, and she found herself wanting to live in the now, with the ability to look forward to the future – Deep down inside, she knew that wasn’t the only reason she was ridding her surroundings of her past.

You can’t hide forever.

Those words bugged her more than she’d be willing to admit out loud. What bothered her more was they came from someone who’s not even alive anymore. Someone who shouldn’t be able to affect her anymore.

And that’s the missing piece of the puzzle. She wanted to spite the spirit and the memory of CJ Wylde. She wanted to make him feel as helpless as he made her feel so many times before.

She found herself wanting him to suffer.

Like she suffered.

Those thoughts entered her mind more and more lately, and each time they were more difficult to push back down into the recesses of her head. And sometimes, as she lay awake at night, she wondered to herself if he was right. She spent years fighting the memory of who she was back then.. She rallied back against the pull of Jenova because she didn’t see that as who she really was.

But what if it was?

What if the very thing she was so ashamed of was the very thing that she needed?

What if she felt so lost because she wouldn’t let Jenova show her the way?

 Click.

    Clack.

Lucy shook her head, annoyed with herself as she sat on the floor in the bedroom that she and CJ once shared, loading up yet another box with memories. Several other boxes sat beside the door, already full and ready to be taken to their final resting place. God only knows where that’ll be, but for the moment, Lucy didn’t care.

”We had some good times in here.”

Lucy didn’t even bother to look up when she heard the disembodied voice of her ex-husband. He’d been chiming in here and there over the last few weeks as Lucy worked, trying to remind her of what she’s ‘throwing away’, and what she’s ‘denying’.

She put a few more things down into the box and sighed.

“What do you want today?”

Having filled this box, she slid it towards the door – All the while feeling a cool breeze whipping around her. She rolled her eyes and pulled another empty box from the pile and moved back towards the dresser on the far side of the bed, pulling open a drawer and tossing CJ’s old clothes into the box.

”Can’t a man just watch his wife pile his shit into boxes like it’s garbage?”

“Ex-Wife.. And… It is garbage.”

Lucy spat back, finally turning her gaze on the bed where she spotted the transparent form of CJ Wylde sitting, a grimace on his face.

”Ouch.”

Lucy went back to work, ignoring him and hoping he’d go away – but much to her chagrin, each time she snuck a glance at the bed, there he sat. Finally, she got tired enough of his presence that she stopped what she was doing and sat down on the floor, pressing her back to the dresser so that she could stare at him. And in doing so, she let out another exasperated sigh.

”So, fun fact, apparently it is still possible to break a dead heart.”

“Yeah, that’s nice.”

Lucy replied, ignoring his last statement almost entirely.

“So… I’ve been thinking.”

His head cocked, ever so slightly – A surprised look on his face.

”Oh?”

She laid her head back against the dresser.

“What if you’re right?”

Lucy said finally, after a few moments of wrestling with whether or not she should say exactly what she was thinking. And upon seeing the satisfied look on the face of her dead ex-husband, she regretted it.

”Hypothetically speaking?”

Lucy shook her head.

“I mean, what if everything that’s happened… happened because I’ve been holding myself back?”

She’d expected an immediate response, but instead she watched CJ’s translucent form rise from the bed and drift towards the window.

“I’ve felt so God damned lost… Since I don’t even remember when. Like something is missing. But what I can’t figure out is–”

”How you could ever be missing something that you didn’t always have?”

Lucy closed her eyes and nodded her head.

“Yeah.”

The thought baffled her more than she’d like to let on. After CJ pushed her away and made her believe he’d cheated on her.. After he’d moved on with his life so effortlessly while her’s fell apart – Jenova happened. Jenova happened and since the day she’d put the mask down, she thought that it was over.

She thought that she could just go back to the woman that she’d always been… Or rather the woman that she thought she’d always been.

Finally he turned around, those dead, hollow eyes staring directly at her.

“Luce, I don’t really know how to explain it… or if that’s what you really want from me right now. God knows, right? I mean, we’re nearing the point now where you’re beyond wanting me gone for good and to be honest also nearing the point where the last domino falls and whatever usefulness I had… poof… just like dust in the wind. The only thing I can tell you now is that, you keep thinking that everything you became after I did what I did is something that you created. But I never believed that.”

He maintained eye-contact with her as he moved closer, and knelt in front of where she sat. Not too close, but close enough for her to feel the temperature around her begin to drop as he continued.

“Think about it. Your childhood. Your lost relationship with your sister. The struggles you had breaking into the wrestling business… hell… just how they treated you that entire first year. All this shit is just the tip of that iceberg. No wonder you gravitated towards me. I was probably the first person in your life that didn’t want to hurt you. But even before I came around, you willed yourself through some pretty tough shit. So what if I pushed you over the edge? You had dealt with the worst before then. The only thing that changed was that you gave whatever it was that drove you a name.”

A faint blush came to Lucy’s cheeks as he spoke, and when he finished she turned her head away from him. She didn’t like the way his words felt. She didn’t like the rush she felt, almost as if something inside of her was consuming his words hungrily, as if it were famished.. Neglected for years.

It made her stomach turn.

Just as she began rising to her feet, her phone went off in her pocket. At first she was going to ignore it in order to get out of this room – But something stopped her and she lowered herself back onto the ground and pulled the phone out to find a text message from Rogan.

-Happy Thanksgiving, Wylde american.-

Lucy smiled and went to put the phone away, when it went off again.  

-I miss you.-

She felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she stared at the message for just a few more seconds before tucking the phone away in her pocket, wanting to respond to her partner later, when she didn’t feel the gaze of a ghost watching her.  

“He sees it too, you know.  You can’t hide.. From yourself, or from him forever.”

 

 Click.

    Clack.

A pair of polished leather boots click along the pavement, slowly.   Methodically.   After a few moments, they stop.

The view begins panning up from the boots, revealing a pair of legs, clad in a tight pair of ripped up jeans, tucked into said boots.  Panning up further, a midriff bearing top comes into view, covered haphazardly by a worn out leather jacket.   As the view continues further upwards, it stops on the face of Lucy Wylde, her eyes staring a hole through the lens capturing her, and whomever may be watching on the other side.

As the view zooms out, we can see that Wylde is surrounded by a dense forest on either side of the road she’s stood on, the sun beginning to set behind her, turning the sky above an almost haunting shade of indigo.

A soft smirk crossed Lucy’s features.

“I’ve got a lot to be thankful for, you know?”

She begins as she moves forward once more, the sound of her heels clicking on the pavement as she continues.

“Among other things, I’ve found success.. I’ve finally realized who my true friends are.. And I’ve found myself in a much, much better place than I was in at this time last year. Not to mention, I’ve got a partner… A partner who understands the true meaning of teamwork and loyalty. It’s refreshing. And it’s about damn time.”

Lucy shrugs her shoulders.

“I’m thankful for every opportunity I’ve gotten this year to prove that I’m still at the top of my game, and for the opportunity to right a few wrongs. Those opportunities have given me so much more than just the Chaos title and the Cooperative titles… They’ve given me perspective. I don’t take it lightly. I never have. That’s just not who I am.”

She stops again, pulling her jacket tight to her chest.

“This week I find myself with another opportunity. But not just a chance to complete the set and become the Conquest Champion. No, it’s an opportunity to press my boot into the throats of everyone who dares to doubt me.. Everyone who thinks that my potential isn’t what I think it is anymore, or that my legacy isn’t in the best hands. But I think many of you have forgotten something.”

She puts a finger up to her cheek, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“Even the best fail. I could damn well go out there on Monday and I can walk out without the Conquest title. Rogan and I could walk into Horizons with the Coop belts and leave with nothing but lint in our pockets. That’s the way it goes. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m Lucy motherfucking Wylde, and I don’t have a glass ceiling. My potential is infinite. My legacy is already cemented because what I can do… I can do like no one else in these parts. And what makes me, me? The ability to accept my failures and keep…fucking… going.”

Lucy lets her arm fall back to her side, as she enunciates the last few words of that statement. Finally she begins moving again, as the sky grows even dimmer – And a faint light begins illuminating her face as she walks.

 Click.

    Clack.

“Centurion. We both competed in Wrestlestock last year. You didn’t quite make the cut, and I won the whole God damned thing. And while I could stop there, and try to keep appearances up.. I’m not afraid to admit that that was the crowning achievement on an entire year for me. While you went and accomplished some pretty awesome things after that loss. And look at you now. Conquest Champion. You’re someone I can respect, Centurion because even though I don’t know a whole lot about you – I sense that you’re the kind of person that pushes forward, even when you don’t feel like you can. A lot of people took their ball and went home after failing at Wrestlestock. But not you.”

She smiles.

“So, no. I’m not gonna come at your throat because I’m of the mindset that two people can respect each other and want to walk out the champion. I’m one of the ‘idiots’ who believes that there doesn’t always have to be malice and hatred in order for two people to have a great fight. But don’t get me wrong, Centurion. If you disrespect me, I have no qualms about putting you in your place. If you prove to me that you’re not the person that I think you are, I won’t have a second thought about putting you down.”

Her eyes narrow as the smile falls from her lips.

“It doesn’t have to be like that. You don’t have to end up like Maggie, and honestly? I’d prefer it if you didn’t. But I want that belt, Centurion. And as of right now, I respect you enough to take it off of you the right way. Don’t disappoint me.”

 Click.

    Clack.

Her boots continue clicking along the pavement as the light upon her face gets brighter and somehow, the blue of her eyes gets darker at the same time.

“I’m thankful for you, Centurion. Thank you for keeping that Conquest Championship warm for me, because even if I don’t win on Monday? I’ll be back..”

She winks.

“And if I do? Hopefully you’ll pick yourself up, dust yourself off and prove yourself to be the man I think you are.”

She moves past the camera, and it pans around, watching as Lucy continues walking down the driveway towards an old farmhouse, situated in the middle of the woods – The clicking of her heels continuing as the picture slowly fades out to black.

 Click.

    Clack.