*     *     *
Bloody and bruised
Brought to my knees
When beaten down
When broken up

You would appear,
Reach out to me,
Heal every wound,
And make me whole

*     *     *

One Month Ago

“I knew you’d come back.”

CJ was laid out in his bed, just as he had been for a long time. Laid out, where she knew he’d be.

Of course, he knew that she was coming, just as he said. He smirked up at her with those faded hazel eyes of his barely cracked open. It was 11:30-ish at night; what the exact time he wasn’t sure. Just that it was the night after Isolation. He knew that she’d come back because she didn’t like to waste time.

It wasn’t in her character.

The study had no windows, but at this hour it was illuminated by the cold amber glow of a single lamp at CJ’s bedside – one he could control with the remote no less. CJ had spent his whole life with a certain sensitivity to light, so he was used to living next to the darkness. As she stepped forward, more of her foreboding mask emerged from the shadows along the edge of the room. Her gait was as methodical as she willed herself to be. Even though CJ couldn’t see her face, it was as though he could feel her intention permeating the stagnant air in the room. His heart rate quickened, if only ever so slightly.

“I’ve been expecting you.”

She approached and stopped at his bedside on his right side.

“Please, have a seat-”

“I only came for one thing,” She growled, “and you know what it is. Do you have it or not?”

“Oh, I have it alright.” CJ nodded his head the best he could. “But I take it that it wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience for you to stay awhile.”

The girl in the mask sighed.

“You assume too much old man.”

CJ tried to turn his head to face her. It was extremely difficult for him to do but somehow he managed.

“Old hmm?” He chuckled softly. “I guess I deserve that, should I make it another couple of weeks, I do suppose I will qualify as old then.”

But she was growing ever more impatient.

“The item. I won’t ask again.”

“Yes, I know. But tell me, you did see her, right? How was she? How did she look when she first saw you? What was the expression on her face? Was she… scared?”

“…as if you weren’t watching along…” she motioned toward the flat-screen opposite his bed.

“I was… however… I’m sure you can imagine that it’s not quite the same thing as being there. So come on, you can spare two minutes of your time. Just… tell me what it felt like.”

“If you wanted to know so badly, then why weren’t you there?”

He grinned.

“I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but there’s a pandemic going on right now… and I do have a preexisting condition, believe it or not-”

“As if that ever stopped CJ Wylde before.”

“Do I still look like CJ Wylde to you?”

Silence. The response stopped her dead in her tracks. CJ closed his eyes and calmly nodded his head.

Her brief hesitation was all the affirmation he needed.

“Pehaps… perhaps not.” She paused. “In all the ways that matter, I guess.”

“Thanks. I’ll try to take that as a compliment.” He coughed.

“You can still move your hand, right? Then… I assume you can still drive a wheelchair if you wanted t-”

“I haven’t been out of this house since… I don’t know when. But even if I did somehow still manage to get into the arena last night, there was still no guarantee that Lucy was even going to show.”

“All that matters is that she did… and that I did.”

Jenova took a seat at CJ’s bedside.

“…and I can’t do this if you won’t give it to me… So… may I have it…”

CJ looked over at her.

“…please…?”

 

*     *     *

That Morning

“Breakfast time…”

The morning after Carnage Wrestling’s Isolation 2020 pay-per-view event first aired on CJ’s flat-screen, CJ was where he always was; lying flat in his bed. He was, as it seemed, dead… asleep. The TV itself was still on. The screen had a still image of the federation’s ‘shield’ logo emblazoned on it in bold hues, with a little message at the bottom thanking the fans for their support during these trying times. (They were trying times, indeed – but here in the study they’ve been that way for a lot longer than just the past couple of years.) No sound was coming from the box, just the softly glowing picture and the message, the live feed and even the replay of last night’s pay-per-view had long-since ended.

Morrie shuffled in, tray in one hand, plaster cast on the other. He noticed that the TV was still on and that CJ had the remote to it cradled by his side. He checked CJ’s health status, everything seemed to be fine, which was always relieving. CJ’s heartbeat still registered as a thin, jagged line. But it was steady, silent, and peaceful.

Just as CJ himself now seemed to be.

Morrie laid the tray down on the bedside table and reached for the remote, with it he turned the television screen off. He smiled, thinking how rare it was to see CJ sleeping into the morning. All Morrie wanted to do now was to leave him in peace. Breakfast time can wait until later.

Morrison began to leave when he heard a faint voice calling him back to the bed.

“Just where do you think you’re going?”

“I don’t know.” Morrie turned back toward CJ with that smile. “You were actually sleeping for a change and just thought-”

“Well I was…”

“Sorry.”

Morrie pulled his chair up beside the bed.

“It wasn’t my intention to disturb you. It’s not very often that you actually sleep anymore. If I had known-”

“It’s alright, Morrie. It’s not like I was having one of the best dreams of my entire life or anything.”

Morrie moved CJ’s breakfast onto the bedside tray and positioned it in front of him.

“Wait, since when did you have a cast on your arm?”

“Since right after your new girlfriend punched me. How did you not notice?”

“She’s not my girlfriend. How in the hell did you get a cast though?”

“You know, just because everything’s shut down right now doesn’t mean that you can’t get medical attention if you need it.”

“Jesus H. Christ Morrie- She didn’t punch you that hard…”

“Oh no – I can definitely assure you – she punched me that hard.”

“Bullshit.”

“Hairline fracture at the base. I told you she broke my wrist the moment that it happened.”

“First off, she was disarming the knife you had held at her throat and… second, now you’re just being a pussy.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll show you the x-ray if you don’t believe me.”

“Yeah,” CJ coughs. “By all means. I wasn’t aware that glass shows up on an x-ray.”

“Look, absolutely no offense intended here, but, you have no room to talk.”

CJ glares up at him.

“Touche, Mr. Morrison. Touche. However… I wasn’t punched in the neck by a girl.”

“With all due respect, Mister Wylde… for once, how about you just shut the F up and eat your damn cereal.”

“Finally!” CJ laughed, but it brought on more painful coughing. “Welcome to… the party… Morrie… It’s about time… you showed up.”

“Between you… and whats her name… you two are going to drive me into a lot more than just foul language I can assure you.” 

“Jenova…” He smiled and coughed a bit more.“Her name is Jenova and she’s going to be the heir to the Wylde legacy one day.”

Morrie rolled his eyes.

“…or she’ll be the death of it, and us.”

CJ shook his head as best he could. Morrie was more than ready to change the subject if at all possible.

“So, what were you dreaming about?”

“Old times, Morrie… Good times.” CJ replied. “About things that I used to have that I don’t have anymore… I guess one could say.”

“Do you mean like before the-?”

“Yeah.”

Morrie paused for a moment.

“You do know you can’t really blame yourself, right? You were a victim. It wasn’t right what they did to you.”

“Yes, I’m well aware of that. Doesn’t change the fact that it happened now, does it?”

“No, I suppose not.”

Morrie nodded.

“If you’d rather not talk about it, I understand. We could always talk about something else-”

“What’s there to talk about?” CJ glanced up at Morrie. “It’s the same damn shit every time. I rarely sleep, and even when I do and I have the most amazing dreams, it doesn’t matter. I always wake up to the same nightmare and all we ever do is talk about it.”

Morrie pursed his lips.

“Talking about what’s troubling you is therapy, Mister Wylde. Believe it or not I am concerned about you.”

“Concerned?”

“…yeah.”

CJ took a deep breath.

“I don’t know, Morrie. I’ve been thinking a lot lately. Maybe… dying isn’t so bad after all. What if it’s just like sleeping… perhaps… a dream-like state that we end up falling into without ever knowing it happened?”

“I wouldn’t know, nor would I try to find out anytime soon.” Morrie sighed. “It’s not in my job description that my patients find out either.”

“God forbid I ruin your track record.”

“But- if I’m being candid, I think of death as a great nothingness… kind of like the time before one was born. And if that is the case, then you don’t live the nightmare or dream the good dreams. It’s a double-edged sword.”

CJ pondered Morrie’s words for a moment.

“Then I suppose for you it comes down to a matter of ‘if life is truly worth living’.”

“I always think that life is worth living,” Morrie replied. “Sometimes people get lost in finding a reason or a purpose… and granted… that it can be quite difficult… especially with what you had taken from you.”

“Not everything that I lost was taken from me you know… a lot of it was my fault too.” CJ paused. “…a lot of it… yeah…”

“Well,” Morrie reached for CJ’s breakfast and brought CJ’s tray around so that he could eat. “Welcome to the club then. I think we’ve all been there and done that regardless.”

“Yeah…” CJ’s voice tapered as if somebody was turning the volume down on his speech. “But it was nice to dream about her again for once… dream about the good old days for a change.”

Morrie stood up from CJ’s bedside.

“Maybe that’s the reason why you did what you did.”

“Hmm?”

“Purpose.” Morrie smiled and turned back towards the bed. “It’s a good feeling when you realize that life isn’t over. That you can still impact the world in some meaningful way.”

“Oh no, my life’s still over,” CJ replied. “But Lucy’s isn’t… and I damn sure ain’t gonna to lay here and watch the same thing happen to her that happened to me.”

“…and that’s where this girl… Jenova… comes into it?”

“Speaking of… she’s coming back… tonight.”

“Oh? That’s… charming.” Morrie sighed.“I appreciate the warning… this time. I take it that you’ve spoken to her?” 

“No…” CJ smiled. “I haven’t heard a word from her. I just know that she will.”

 

*     *     *

That Evening (Cont’d.)

“But even if I did somehow still manage to get into the arena last night, there was still no guarantee that Lucy was even going to show.”

“All that matters is that she did… and that I did.”

Jenova took a seat at CJ’s bedside.

“…and I can’t do this if you won’t give it to me… So… may I have it…”

CJ looked over at her.

“…please…?”

For a time, CJ just looked at her – the cold iron mask staring back at him. They both knew why they were here in this moment, and what got them there. But neither he nor Jenova had discussed it in detail.

They were both intelligent and meticulous; each discerning from the other what the next step of the plan would be without ever really having one.

Jenova knew that by showing up at Carnage Wrestling’s Isolation PPV that she was making a statement. Not just to Lucy but to CJ as well. She knew that she had to proclaim to him her acceptance of the task at hand. But she also knew that showing up with a mask and a name weren’t going to be enough to get Lucy’s attention… let alone stake the claim to her ‘Jenova’ legacy.

CJ knew that Jenova needed proof. Something that he could give her with true meaning. Something that not only shouted CJ’s approval but also was a proclamation of his own. He knew that Jenova needed something but in that moment he wondered if she even knew what it was that he was giving to her… and what it meant to him.

“My shirt pocket,” CJ’s heart rate was rising. “Go on. Reach in there for me. I’d hand it to you myself if I could, but I’m afraid that you’d have to put it in my hand first if that’s what you’d like me to do.” 

Like a child finally given permission at the braking point of their limited patience, Jenova reached into his shirt pocket and took from it an engagement ring. Black gold band. Tiny yet intricate skulls framing a stunning diamond. The ring itself was one of a kind – and in the moment it first glistened in Jenova’s eyes she knew right away who it belonged to.

At a loss for words, the masked girl was nearly choked up.

“I-I… I cannot accept this from you…”

“Why not?” CJ’s nostrils flared as he spoke. “You wanted my signature… my seal… my stamp of approval… what else could I possibly give you that means more to Jenova than the ring that started it all?”

“But this… this is hers…”

“Put it on.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” He replied, sternly. “Left hand, ring finger. Wear it the same way she wore it.”

Nervously, Jenova did as she was told. She slid the ring down over her finger, and couldn’t help but to stare down at it.

“How does it feel?”

“Like it’s… someone else’s.”

“It isn’t.”

Silence between the two of them.

“It’s yours now.”

 

*     *     *

 

Present Day

The Carnage Wrestling Network feed is filled with static. Is there a problem with the live stream? No. Slowly the static coalesces. The black and white dots become a gray-scale image of a that cold iron mask. Eyes pierce through the camera lens and right through whatever monitor or screen the viewers are watching the Network on.

Do you think that this isn’t emotional for me?

Jenova’s voice comes through clear as a bright morning. But the words that seep through from behind her mask are ominous and dark.

Do you think that this isn’t the very definition of personal?

I put it all on the line for this moment. My reunion… Our reunion I should say. And now that I have your full and undivided attention Lucy I want to be perfectly clear in my intentions… as clear as the diamond that rests comfortably on my little finger. 

You see, I understand completely that anyone who knows of ‘the tale of Jenova’ can show up with a mask and claim to be you.

But I am not that person.

I can stand here all day and yell into this camera telling anyone who will listen that I’m as authentic as I claim to be. But I’m not here now to prove anything to anyone that isn’t named Lucy Wylde. I’m not here to appeal to ‘the Legion’ or to chase after one of Carnage Wrestling’s stupid championship titles. I’m here for one reason and one reason only, Lucy… and that is because someone decided that I was worthy to carry on a legacy that is extremely important to them… and in a matter of speaking I was too weak to disagree with him.

For us, it is personal. Sometimes things are just too important to lose. Sometimes some people can’t just sit around and watch the things that they’ve worked so hard to build come crumbling down… it’s a foolish sentiment but a respectable one. You know just as well as I do that if he didn’t choose me to fix this… minor… problem that we’re having… that in all likelihood the legacy would continue to dwindle down until it really is too late. That fresh scar on your neck speaks volumes of where you are in this microcosm we call ‘the Industry’ and where you stand in your family, your locker room, and in your life. The legacy that the Wylde family built – that you built Lucy – is too important for your sister to drop a cage on or for wannabes to turn you into the first real achievement of their highly-presumptuous little careers.

If you cannot see the problem then you are blind. 

I just can’t tell if you really don’t see the truth or if you’re choosing to ignore it.

When we finally do come face to face at Chaos… I do want you to look me in the eye and tell me that you’re willing to put your career on the line for this match …your life on the line for this match… like I have. I want you to tell me that this match means everything to you… like it does to me.

Even if you have to lie.

I want you to tell me that going face-to-face with your deepest and darkest fears means as much to you as it does to me… because I’m just like you in more ways than you’d care to admit. I know why this ring means so much to you. I know why it’s more symbolic of Jenova than this mask will ever be. And if you don’t think that my heart won’t be racing in the moment of reunion… where the past, present, and future of this legacy all meet… then you are sadly mistaken. I have a past, too, Lucy. Just like you. We all fear our past in our own ways. I’m choosing to not run from mine any longer. 

So what is it, Lucy? Are you afraid? It’s not of me.

Are you afraid of what Jenova once meant to you?

You act like you don’t know who I am. You act like it’s at least somewhat important to you to find out; and yet, you already know exactly who I am, don’t you?

…

Let’s wind back the clocks, shall we?

Once upon a time there was a little girl, basking in the glow of her aunt’s television screen. She sat like a sponge, eyes widened, opening herself to every precious moment of seeing her heroine on the other side of that glass tube doing the things that she was told that only the boys do. Not only did the blonde bombshell hold her own with the men around her, she frequently dominated the scene. It was her sultry look, her impressive agility, her unmatched toughness, her heart and desire, and not to mention the dreamy romance and the championship accolades that went with being the fiercest and most bad-ass woman to ever build bridges and break down barriers for females in professional wrestling…

But you’d be the first to tell me that it wasn’t all puppy-dogs and kittens.

They say it’s a mistake to meet one’s heroes and I never fully understood that at first. I always considered myself lucky and, dare I say it, blessed. For better and for worse, though, there was a time in both of our lives where I truly felt that you were the hero that I used to watch way back when, and I was that little girl who always worshiped and respected you… and unfortunately that time has passed. I understand that most things change over time, and I have no wish to place blame squarely on your shoulders.

But it took me a long, long time to understand that I didn’t have to stop respecting what you once meant to me just because I witnessed who you are now… what… you became…

I have no intention of boring you with the details that you already know, Lucy. You know who I am… you already know who Jenova is… because you invented her. You and I, we’re just human beings, but Jenova is so much more than that. Jenova is an idea. You once knew, as I know now, of the power of putting on the mask and becoming something much, much more than oneself. And to be fair, I was perfectly content sitting at home collecting paychecks for nothing until I was… approached… by your ex-husband of all people. All he encouraged me to was to simply follow in my heroes footsteps…

Because she needs me.

Lucy, you know what Jenova represents… so you know what I have to do.

Despite how CJ once treated you, for once I actually agree with him. The sharks smell your blood in the water and you’ve always been too stubborn to admit when you need help. Your sister is too busy playing her backup role on Paragon-drama island and that beta-male cuck you’ve chosen for a fiance would rather watch you die trying to stand up for yourself than to do anything meaningful about it.

We all make our choices and we all have our reasons… and I trust that by the end of Chaos you’ll understand why I had to make mine.

I didn’t put on the mask to make idle threats and tag your enemies on social media. I didn’t accept this responsibility to stand by and watch you piss what’s left of your legacy away. I didn’t choose to do what you did – to become something better than who and what I once was – to see your career end as a footnote to Amber Ryan and Jack Michaels.

You deserve better.

You… deserve… better…

…and Jenova always made sure that people got exactly what they deserve.

Didn’t you?

Lucy, in just a few short days, I’m going to put everything on the line just for one… and only one… chance to beat you. Because the way I figure it, if I can’t beat you when the stakes are at their highest, then I don’t deserve to protect you. 

I don’t deserve to protect you…

…from yourself.

But I dare you Monday night to look me in my eyes and tell me that this match means more to you than it does to me. Because while I think it’s foolish for anyone to say that they can beat the Lucy Wylde… I just want to know if you know what it will take to beat me.

I just want to know if you still have it in you.

Come Monday night, I’ll be in the match of my life… and so will you. The reunion is at hand and battle for our fates will be decided between ourselves and our destinies alone. Neither you and I can run from this path that we’re on now but if there’s any sliver of the old Jenova left inside I wouldn’t think that you’d want to.

The excitement is building and the tension is mounting… and in the end Jenova will do what Jenova has always done.

Lucy… don’t be afraid.

Changes Come.