Prologue

 

Three years ago I was lying in an alley in New York with blood pouring out of my head and my clothes torn to shreds.

If it wasn’t for the luck of a certain passerby making the decision to intervene – a certain Nadette Fischer – I don’t know what my attackers would have done to me to finish the job.

My first vivid memory after that moment was waking up in a critical care unit of a New York hospital. Doctors and nurses monitored my condition. NYPD detectives waited patiently just outside the door. They wanted my consent to gather evidence of a crime I was not yet aware of. My attackers shared neither their patience nor concern.

Before that day I liked to draw. I liked to listen to pop music. I liked eating ice cream sandwiches and taking occasional trips to the beach. I liked staying up late and watching old movies in my pajamas. No, I didn’t think the world was perfect by any stretch of the imagination… but I still liked living in it. I liked the opportunity to be… and to feel… alive. Nothing came easy, I had more hardships than triumphs sure, but I always figured it helped me appreciate the good times more because they honestly felt like they didn’t come easy or free.

But after that day… that day three years ago… everything changed.

My whole outlook on life had changed, as of course it should. I didn’t trust walking alone out on the streets anymore. I no longer thought that the world at large was just a misaligned place. I hated life. I hated the experience of it and with the exception of a select few people I no longer trusted those breathing around me. Every stranger became an enemy until proven otherwise… and New York was littered with ‘em.

People said I should have gone to therapy, that I’d feel better if I met up in a group with other ‘survivors’. They said that talking about it would help. People said that I should get something to protect myself with, that I should consider carrying a gun, or pepper spray, or a fucking whistle for Christ’s sake.

But I didn’t do that… no. I went to Squires Wrestling Academy and learned how to fight. The first punch I threw jammed my wrist so badly that I thought I broke it… had it taped up for weeks. The first kick, badly misplaced, nearly cracked the bone in my shin. The entire time I was surrounded by people who took one look at me and said “what the fuck is she doing here… doesn’t she know she can’t make it?” I was beaten down, again and again. I spent more time lying on the practice mat in almost the exact same way that I was sprawled out in that alleyway than I did standing on my own two feet.

But in the end I’d know how to protect myself.

I worked my ass off

…just to know how to survive.

 

Magalena Lockheart Presents:
The Highroad

 

Undisclosed Location

“I’m sorry, but what you’re asking us simply cannot be done.”

Cherie Von Allen stood at the end of a long boardroom table, her hands crossed submissively down below her waist. The camera angle focused on her and only her, and it picked up on her fine business attire… no humiliating sexy secretary ensemble this time… and no sling on her arm, either.

“Look, I get why you’re protecting him. Beneath all of the crap, he really does know how to build a promotion from the ground up. But I think what the board is failing to understand here is that he can very quickly destroy that all, too… if he’s left unchecked.”

“Miss Von Allen,” the deep male voice replies, “It’s not that we haven’t looked into it. But he does own the deed to the property, himself. I’m just not sure there is anything that we can do.”

Cherie huffed.

“Nothing? But you already made him do the Openweight Championship thing. You’re the freaking network that owns his show!”

There’s murmuring at the far end of the table. Finally, a woman’s voice speaks up.

“…and you’ve been our personal liaison, Cherie. You’ve done everything and anything that we’ve asked you to do.”

“We hope that you’ll continue to perform your role admirably.”

Cherie’s lips pursed. She placed her hands on her hips and started to pace around. It had made the rest of the board of directors on the Carnage Network a bit anxious. She then turned and slammed her palms down on the end of the table.

“Well, If you really want me to keep up the charade, then you’re gonna have to do a little bit better than ‘there’s nothing you can do’.”

There was more whispering at the far end of the table. Finally, the woman spoke up again.

“Then what, Miss Von Allen, do you propose that we do?”

 

 

Fast forward, almost three years later.

 

I never asked for anything I’ve gotten. The professional wrestling contracts, my relationships, my reputation, the tattoo parlor. Everything from the championships to the Monarchy of Anarchy crown. Everything was worked for. Everything was paid for… in pain, sweat, tears, and in blood.

The first thing ever truly given to me was given the day that Jason Bridges entered the prison that I was locked in. He gave me freedom, he gave me a contract, he gave me a chance to get myself back up on my feet and a kind word to get me going.

Then he gave me a chance to become a two-time UltraViolent champ at Underground: Destiny.

My opponent hated that.

My opponent said that I didn’t deserve it at all.

I was furious, I was outraged. Who the fuck was Myra Lynwood ever to decide what any of us deserved? Before prison, I had enough Carnage Points to buy any championship shot I wanted, twice. Before I had everything taken away, I was the most dominant force in the UltraViolent scene since the Sandtown Kid, Will Prydor, and Tweeder. I was so sure that I could just walk into Underground: Destiny and take back the gold because it seemed like it should have been my destiny… but destiny is not that simple. I fought Myra Lynwood with everything that I thought that I had to give her and then some.

…and then I lost.

Everything.

But it wasn’t Myra’s fault that I lost it all.

It was mine.

I started back at the bottom. Fought in the traffic in the streets of Baltimore… fought through the backstage turmoil and the sneak attacks and even the young prodigies that were meant to take me down. I fought a two-time Carnage World champion just for the right to get to this point. And all of that just to fight the same opponent… with much greater stakes this time… my pride… and her Highroad.

I told Myra Lynwood once and I’ll say it again… she’ll have to kill me to beat me this time.

Not for revenge, and not for redemption, either.

Because this… as they say… is a reckoning.

 

 

The Diary of Magdalena Lockheart
“A Final Entry”

 

This may be my very last entry into this journal, and if so…

So be it.

I’m currently sitting outside of the Carnage arena… I happen to know for a fact that at this moment Jason Bridges is sitting comfortably in his office. He’s probably slurping down a mojito.

What I’m about to do is something that I am doing on my own free will.

I just got back from New York and all attempts to secure bail money for Amber have failed. Jason Bridges is responsible for putting her into that mess, and he did it because of me.

I’m damn sure not going to let that stand.

Nadette wouldn’t help her… or me… and in the time I’ve had to think about it, I can’t say that I blame her. She was right. Even before I faced my own incarceration, I had become someone who always runs away from her problems. Somewhere along the line, I had taken the cash and the fame and the luxuries of becoming a world-renowned fighter… and I used it to keep everyone important to me away. I had forgotten where my true home was.

But now, no more.

If I have to go back to jail… at least I’ll go for something that did do.

I’m going to march right into Bridges office, and I’m going to beat him within an inch of his pathetic, miserable life. I’m going to hurt him so badly that he’ll have no choice but to drop the charges that he had imposed on Amber.

And then, just for fun, I’m gonna beat him some more.

If you’re reading this, then this is my final farewell.

Thanks for all the memories.

 

 

The Entrance of the Carnage Arena

 

This was it. Maggie stood at the wide double doors and let out a deep breath. She was sure that she had to do this… no more running, right? Her fingertips gripped the handles and she pulled the doors wide… only to see Cherie Von Allen standing there with her arms folded across her chest. Maggie glanced across at Cherie stunned, but even more surprising was the smirk etched on Cherie’s face.

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

 

 

Twelve UltraViolent Champions. A multitude of defenses. No single person has ever held it twice. Of the twelve, only four have had two defenses or more, and up to this point, only one has ever defended the strap enough times to enact the Highroad rule. But he never did.

The list of champions dates all the way back to Carnage Wrestling’s rebirth.

There’s name after name of UV champs that are, or will soon be, in the Carnage Hall of Legends.

Not a surprise.

Carnage Wrestling was founded on UltraViolence. It has lived and breathed on it. It’s what gets the fans in the stands… and the eyes glued to the televisions at home. This is not just what we do… this is who we are…

THIS IS EVERYTHING THAT CARNAGE WRESTLING HAS EVER BEEN!

When one person steps into the ring in a Carnage ultraviolent match, they’re not trying to win.

They’re fighting to survive.

Survival has always been my motivation. It’s always been my endgame, my goal. And it kills me to see an UltraViolent champion who could give a shit less about her titles own legacy. To her, it is just the means to an end. To her, its just a crutch. To her, it’s only a way that she can earn a shot at the championship that she’s really after…

And it’s a slap in the face to the champions who have honored that belt before her.

When I won the Monarchy of Anarchy I CHOSE the UltraViolent Championship belt because Carnage Wrestling was the ONLY PLACE where PURE SURVIVAL was just as important as the World Championship of wristlocks and rest-holds. Carnage Wrestling was the ONLY PLACE brave enough, and bold enough, to take the legacies of Tweeder and Matt Stone… Dazi Miyashita… the true SURVIVORS of this INDUSTRY and to bring their SACRIFICES up to the forefront!

…where it belonged.

THIS. IS. A. RECKONING.

This is for the SOUL of Carnage Wrestling!

Times change and companies change and industries change…

But this match will be something that the champions before me would be PROUD of!

 

 

The Entrance of the Carnage Arena

 

Maggie stood, in shock. How did Cherie know that she was coming?

“I’m going to go kick the shit out of a certain boss of mine,” Maggie said in reply to Cherie’s earlier question. “Wanna come watch?”

“No, I really don’t think you need to do that.” Cherie said, her grin widening. “As a matter of fact, I think there’s somebody else that wants to see you-”

Cherie turned her shoulder and behind her was standing Amber Caldwell. She still looked a bit beat up, but Maggie couldn’t hold back her excitement.

“Hey, how’s it-”

Maggie ran over to her and wrapped her arms around Amber tightly. Cherie smiled as the two women kissed. Maggie had tears running down her cheeks.

Finally, Maggie and Amber separated.

“But how… how did you get Amber out?”

“Oh, that wasn’t me, exactly.” Cherie replied with a smile. “Actually, that was-”

“I think two of you need to get room.” Nadette said in her thick German accent after stepping out from her hiding place.

Maggie was in shock, and in awe.

“What?! What are… what are you all doing here?” Her head snapped quickly, to Nadette, and to Amber, and back to Cherie again.

“I think you were right, Maggie.” Cherie said. “I pulled some strings with the higher-ups at the Network that I probably should have pulled a long time ago. I just… I needed to stand up for myself a bit… so thank you.”

Maggie blushed… and lowered her head.

“But… that wasn’t me though,” Maggie replied, humbly. “You always knew how to stand up for yourself.”

“Yes and so do you.” Nadette added. “But sometimes, maybe you stand up, perhaps too much.”

Amber moved in to Maggie closer and placed her arms around Maggie’s sides.

“I don’t know. I kinda like seeing Maggie stand up for herself…”

And once more, Maggie blushed.

“Nadette was the one to actually come bail Amber out of jail… and after she did that… she called me looking for you.”

“Perhaps it was… mistake on my part. But I only do what I do out of love… I miss you at shop so much.”

With tears in their eyes, Maggie and Nadette share an embrace of their own, both women apologizing to each other for the pain that they had caused.

“So… Maggie… you still wanna kick Bridge’s ass?” Cherie said with a wink and a nudge.

“I dunno… yeah… probably.” Maggie said with a little smirk of her own. “Actually, there is one thing that still needs to be done… and if you all trust me… I’d like to handle this one on my own.”

 

 

Yes, I’m going to bring UltraViolence back to Carnage Wrestling on Sunday. I’m going to fight Myra Lynwood once again with the full knowledge of everything I’ve went through to be here. But I’m not going to fight alone.

Let’s be real with each other, Myra. You don’t want to pull your punches, fine. I won’t pull mine either. Let us not pretend that there’s any love-lost between us. Let’s not pretend that you’ve spent the last few months crying and bitching about you not getting your way handed to you. But that’s alright, Myra. I’ve spent the last few months learning, and changing, and growing. I’ve spent this time forming a mold, an example of the person that I’d like to be as I move forward in my career. I’ve kept journal entries of all the practices that I’ve held dear in the time since our last meeting. Never Question the Heart, Always Respect the Perspective, Focus Only on What Matters. All of the things that I’ve done to help me grow have all come from YOU, Myra.

But they all come from the things that you’ve failed to do.

You flip-flop and change sides, play both sides of the fence like nothing that you say even matters. One minute you’re Carnage Wrestling’s savior… the ex-sinner… the bringer of light! …and the next you’re bemoaning how you’re no good anymore and the next how everyone overlooks you. There’s no telling what you’ll be this week. Because you’ve presented yourself as whatever you think you need to be to garner the most sympathy. It’s no wonder that the people are turning on you. Do you think Jazmyn’s turn is just a coincidence? Bitch, she sounds just like you did two months ago. The only problem there is that she worked out of the hole that you put her in and earned herself the chance that you’re too angry about you’ve been overlooked for.

The truth of it all? Well both you and her couldn’t stop complaining about how you were screwed over in GCW.

One federation, I can understand. But now Carnage Wrestling gets accused of the exact same thing?

Maybe it’s you.

Perhaps you’re the problem.

I used to believe that GCW was unfair to you, but now after listening to you prattle on, with your endless diatribes… I’m not so sure anymore. The fact is that you really don’t give a damn about the championship that you’re holding when Jack, or JC, or anyone else gets any of the attention you think you solely deserve. You’re the type of person who can talk about another person or a promotion when they’re not around to defend themselves… but you made the mistake of letting your actions define you as the insufferable child that you really are.

You never ONCE stopped to THINK that it was YOU.

YOU ARE THE REASON THAT NO-ONE WANTS TO PAY ATTENTION TO YOU.

You never gave a damn about my struggles before you started throwing my name in the mud. All you saw was Jason Bridges giving out a title shot to someone who you thought… YOU THOUGHT didn’t deserve it… and that’s all you needed to start shouting off…

What happens to you at Season of the Witch is something that, at the end of all of this, you’re going to have to take responsibility for. Because, let’s face it… you’ve lived a privileged life. You’ve had all the opportunities from childhood on up… you’ve been a multi-time world champion in other promotions and none of that was ever good enough for you. Now I’m going to give you something that you didn’t even know you were asking for. I’m going to show you exactly what UltraViolence used to mean in Carnage Wrestling and the champ is going to see it first-hand.

You don’t get to say that Magdalena Lockheart “has no heart” and live to tell about it.

It’s kill or be killed now… Miss Rebel.

…and I’ll show you EXACTLY how much HEART I have…

…when I rip yours out.

 

 

Jason Bridges Office

 

Knock Knock Knock

 

“Goddamnit Cherie!” Bridges says as he casually sits behind his desk, cellphone pressed against his ear. “How many times do I have to tell you not to interrupt me during a call?”

The door opens. Bridges turns his attention back to the person speaking on the other end of the line.

He doesn’t even notice Maggie walk up until she’s already standing opposite him.

“I’m sorry, is this a bad time?” Maggie facetiously asks as she swipes her hands across his desk, knocking all of his belongings to the floor.

Bridges jumps up out of his seat.

“What are you doing here?!” He shouts. “Get the hell out of my-”

Maggie calmly climbs up over his desk, and stops to stand face to face with him, pinning his back against the wall.

“Guards!”

“Shh-” Maggie smirked as she moved in even closer. “They’re not coming.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, huh?” Bridges asked nervously. “You think you’re gonna intimidate me into dropping the charges against your little girlfriend? Because that’s not gonna work!”

Maggie lowered her head, showing Bridges that perhaps she had been defeated.

“Uh-huh… see? That’s what I thought.” Jason replied with a bit more confidence… even stopping for a moment to brush the wrinkles out of his coat. “One more step and I’ll have you arrested, too… and I’ll make sure this time they lock you up for damn good… where no one will ever see or even care about Maggie Lockheart ever again. Now get the hell out of my sig-”

Bridges goes to walk away, but Maggie puts her arm up, blocking him.

“I just came to say… that it’s over.” She whispered.

“What?” Bridges eyes lit up. “You mean you’re quitting? Right before my big pay-per-view?”

“No no…” Maggie raised her head again, this time looking Bridges right in the eyes. “What I came to say is… this thing between you and me… it’s over.”

“What the hell do you mean… ‘you and me’? Sweetheart, there is nothing between you and me!”

“Not… anymore.”

Maggie grabbed Bridges by the tie and swung him around, pinning him down against his desk. She raised her fist high as if she were about to strike him. Bridges threw his arms up in defense.

“What I really came to say is, I just signed an iron-clad contract given to me by the Carnage Wrestling Network executives, themselves. And if you ever fuck with me… fuck with Amber… or fuck with anyone that I care about ever again… I’ll turn this office into a fucking crime scene. Do I make myself clear?”

Bridges didn’t respond at first, too shocked by what Maggie had said to formulate a response. But Maggie cinched her grip on his tie a bit tighter… and then finally… Bridges relented.

“C-c-crystal!”

Maggie finally let go.

“Good. I’m glad that we could come to an understanding.” She said as serious as death. “Don’t call me. Don’t text. If you see me coming down the hallway, you better turn your ass around and start walking the other way. You got a problem with that? Take it up with YOUR bosses… asshole.”

Bridges, coughing, struggling to pull himself back into an upright position and yelled out at Maggie just as she was walking out the door.

“You’re lying! The Network would never overrule me!”

Maggie stopped in the doorway.

“Well, you know what they say about people with power, Jason.” She turned her face over her shoulder and smirked down at him. “They tend to abuse it.”

 

 

The Diary of Magdalena Lockheart
New Entry: “The Highroad”

 

You know, sometimes, the end of one journey can just mean the beginning of another.

I’m going to fight Myra Lynwood at Season of the Witch. I’m going to pull out all the stops against her. But after that… there’s Paragon… and the Override…

What about what they’re trying to do the company that I love…

What about what they’re trying to do to my home?

I haven’t taken a side… maybe because there is no “right” side…

But perhaps… it’s time the Artist creates a side all her own.

I turn 23 on October 31st. I can be the Future of this company… I can be the face of Carnage Wrestling.

That’s what I can fight for.

That can be my highroad.

Look at what you just made me do? No.

This time, its all on my own.