BRAVE

September 3rd, 2007

The little girl lay in her bed, tangled in her sheets as the moon cast a silvery glow across her room. Shadows danced on the walls, twisting and contorting into monstrous shapes that seemed to leer at her with devilish grins. She whimpered in her sleep, caught in the clutches of a nightmare that held her tightly in its grasp.

The monster loomed over her, its sharp claws glinting in the dim light as it let out a low, guttural growl. Its eyes burned with malevolence, twin orbs of fiery malice that bore into her very soul. With each ragged breath, it drew closer and closer, its putrid breath washing over her like a toxic cloud.

The little girl's heart pounded as she frantically searched for a way out. But the walls seemed to be closing in on her, suffocating her with their darkness and the looming presence of the monster.

She closed her eyes and tried to focus on anything that could help her escape this nightmare. Then she remembered something her mother had told her—that she was brave and strong and could conquer any fear.

With renewed determination, the little girl opened her eyes and faced the monster head-on. She stood on her bed, towering over it as she summoned all the courage she could muster.

"Leave me alone!" she yelled, surprising even herself with the strength in her voice.

The monster recoiled at her words, its eyes widening in surprise before letting loose a slight chuckle. While the beast watched as the creature before it found some courage, the little girl looked determined.

Feeling empowered, the little girl continued to stand tall and face the creature.

"You can't hurt me," she said firmly. "I won't let you."

Even as more confidence filled her, the little girl began to notice something strange happening—the shadows on the walls were multiplying, and the room was becoming darker. The moon shone through her window, casting a gentle light in the face of danger.

The monster let out a roar that startled the little girl before it closed the gap between them. The little girl felt the fear seize around her throat while she stood still and quiet.

“You’re not safe,” the creature moaned to her face. “Your day will come.” It then cackled with glee before dissipating before her very eyes.

The little girl woke with a startle, beads of sweat running down her forehead, while her chest rose and lowered quickly. The door to her bedroom creaked as it opened, and she looked over to see her father standing there. He inched into the room and looked at his baby girl, noticing the distress on her face.

“Hey, love,” he whispered as he moved to the edge of her bed and dropped to one knee. He ran his hand tenderly across her forehead and brought her into him. Against his touch, she relaxed into him and buried her face into his chest.

“Hi, Daddy,” she answered.

“Did you have a bad dream?”

She simply nodded, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her against his body. A sigh escaped from her body, and he could feel her heart rate lowering with each passing second.

“It’s okay, Rose, I’ve got you,” the words floated on the air and landed softly against her ear, allowing her to settle into a soft slumber.

March 14, 2008

The backstage area was a flurry of activity, filled with the hustle and bustle of wrestlers preparing for their matches. Eight-year-old Rose sat perched on a folding chair beside her father, watching in awe as he laced up his boots and adjusted his elbow pads. Thousands would look at her father in sixty seconds and shriek, ‘Get him, Dusk!’ and she would watch with awe. Rose couldn't help but feel a surge of pride knowing that this larger-than-life wrestler was her dad.

As the arena rumbled with the crowd cheers, Rose’s heart raced with anticipation. She had watched her father wrestle countless times before, but tonight felt different. Tonight, he was facing off against his longtime rival, Tony Gamble. Little did her father know she’d had a reoccurring dream that featured Gamble heavily — complete with the scar that was a smile haunting her. The tension in the air was palpable, and Rose couldn't shake the nervous excitement that gripped her.

Her father noticed her fidgeting beside him and gave her a reassuring smile.

He ruffled her hair gently, his eyes filled with determination and tenderness. "Don't worry, Rose," he said in a deep, rumbling voice that always made her feel safe. "Tonight is just another night in the ring. I've faced Gamble before. All bark, no bite. You just sit back, cheer for me, and enjoy the show."

Rose nodded, trying to muster up a smile despite the butterflies in her stomach. She knew her father was strong and skilled, but Gamble was notorious for his underhanded tactics and ruthless demeanor. As the final call for their match echoed through the arena, the crowd erupted into deafening cheers and boos.

Craig stood up from his chair, towering over Rose as he looked down and smiled at her. He leaned in close to her and whispered, "Watch closely, sweetheart. This will be a match they'll talk about for years to come."

The words rang in her ears as she watched her father step away while a young up-start reporter appeared behind her, patting Rose on the back. The future PRIME star spun around and smiled at her pseudo-babysitter for the moment.

“Hi, Miss Angelica!” Rose exclaimed.

“Hey, you ready to watch the match?”

Rose screwed up her face for a moment, revealing the nervous tension she felt in the pit of her stomach.

“What’s wrong?”

She grabbed Angelica’s hand and walked deeper into the backstage area.

“I just… don’t like Gamble.”

Angelica chuckled. “Don’t worry, neither do we.” As they entered the catering area, Rose ran over to the chair in time to watch her father storm down the ramp for the title match. Angelica grabbed a cookie off a table and placed it on a plate before sitting next to Rose. She slid the plate to her, and Rose looked at it but didn’t touch it.

“I think he’s going to bring home the title tonight,” Angelica offered, referencing the Intense Title, which Gamble held.

“Same,” she whispered, her eyes honing in on her father in the ring.

July 5, 2009

The little girl tossed and turned in her bed, trapped in the clutches of a nightmare that seemed all too real. The shadowy figure loomed over her, its large, devilish grin sending chills down her spine. Its eyes gleamed with a malevolent light piercing through the room's darkness. With each step it took closer to her, the air grew colder, the room darker.

She tried to scream, but no sound escaped her lips. She felt paralyzed, unable to move as the figure reached out a hand towards her. Its fingers were long and thin, almost skeletal in their appearance. She could feel its icy touch as it grazed her cheek, sending shivers through her entire body.

The figure leaned in closer, its grin widening even further. It whispered something in a language she couldn't understand, its voice a sinister hiss that made her blood run cold.

"You cannot escape me," the figure whispered, its voice chilling in the darkness. The little girl felt a surge of fear wash over her.

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to block out the terrifying presence that loomed over her. The figure's icy grip seemed to tighten around her, sending a wave of panic through her small frame. But in the depths of her fear, a spark of courage flickered to life within her.

Summoning every ounce of courage within her, the little girl forced her eyes open once more. In a trembling voice, she retorted to the shadowy figure, "I am not afraid of you." The words hung in the air, the room growing eerily silent, as her bravery echoed in the darkness.

The figure drew closer, its malevolent grin on full display. It seemed amused by her defiance, its dark eyes narrowing as it studied her intently. A flicker of doubt crossed its twisted features before it quickly masked it with a cruel sneer.

"You should be," it hissed, its voice filling every inch of space. With a sudden surge of determination, the spirit inched closer to Rose before laughing in her face and vanishing into thin air. Rose recoiled — from nightmare to reality, clutching her pillow tightly as she pondered the man with the sinister grin.

October 21, 2022

Rose sat in the catering area and watched on the television screen as her father connected with a Shining Wizard on Tony Gamble. She’d sent Brian and Adeline to their ringside seats without her — simply because she couldn’t stomach being that close and watching one of her father’s final matches. As Dusk was met with a smoke machine blast, Rose groaned and shook her head.

A few others gathered behind her to watch the match, and she glanced over her shoulder to see a few of PRIME’s legends, Wade Elliott and Killian Sirrajin, standing there. They waved at Rose, and she waved back before turning to the monitor to see Gamble connecting with a DDT and going for a pinfall on her father. Unwillingly, her right hand turned into a fist, and was mere inches away from slamming it on the table when her father kicked out.

“Thank Hoyt,” she breathed as she sat back. She watched her father her entire life, but something about his matches with Gamble put her on the edge of her seat — as if her father beating Gamble could vanquish nightmares that’d plagued her throughout her life.

“Watching them wrestle makes me feel like I’m back in 2008,” the voice behind her cut across her thoughts. The tone of the voice quickly clued her in it wasn’t Killian or Wade who’d come over. If she hadn’t locked in on the match, she would have noticed the catering area had been cleared save for those two men — the inner circle of the person who had come to see her.

Lindsay Troy. She sat in a chair beside Rose and offered her best smile. Rose nodded slightly, keeping one eye on the match and the other on a woman she never quite saw eye-to-eye with.

“I still remember that match. Beat Gamble and took the Intense Title off of him. I think I screamed at the top of my lungs when it happened.”

Lindsay chuckled. “I’m sure someone on the records team can tell me how many times Craig and Tony have fought, but my gut tells me they’ve been in more matches together than most people have.”

“Probably,” Rose mumbled. “I asked my father about it once, and he couldn’t explain why they gravitated toward one another.”

“Might be because Scarface is a dick and loves to poke fun at people as much as possible. Your father tends to take exception to that.”

“Yeah, he does,” Rose responded.

A few quiet moments passed before the owner of PRIME cleared her throat. “You know, your father doesn’t look like he’s lost as much of a step as he thinks he has. I know he wants to spend more time with Adeline and doesn’t think he belongs anymore, but I think he could still compete and be a good marker for the new generation coming in. They won’t admit it, but a few of them watched your father as they grew up, and getting to wrestle him would be an honor for them.”

Rose looked away from the match — where Gamble connected with a shot to her father’s nether regions — and looked at the Queen of the Ring. Lindsay had no idea what Rose was looking for, but Rose knew she was looking for a sign of the gravity behind her father’s decision. He wasn’t stepping away because he felt like he’d lost a step but because he had brain cancer and couldn’t hide it any longer.

Lindsay, though, was unaware of this. Rose thought at least she would know, but nothing on her face suggested she did.

“Probably could keep wrestling if he wanted to, but I’m happy he had this chance for one final run. Thanks for that.”

Lindsay simply nodded before producing a piece of paper from her jacket pocket laying it in front of Rose.

“Well, just because your father’s career is winding down doesn’t mean you can’t start thinking about a new career of your own.”

Rose glanced at the paper before looking back at the PRIME owner.

“What is this?”

Lindsay smiled and shrugged. “Read it. Take it in. My number is on there, and I know you’ve spent time over the years training. Not just in wrestling but in other disciplines. I think you could do well for yourself in the ring and, if you’re interested, get some reps in with me before you sign.”

The idea had never crossed her mind and she looked down at the paper while Lindsay rose from her seat and patted Rose on the back. Rose couldn’t help but wonder what else her father had shared with the Boss.

“Think about it. I’ll let you finish watching Craig’s match in peace. Still looks like his superkick is as vicious as ever.”

Rose glanced at the television to see her father hitting his old finisher, which landed flush across Gamble’s jaw. The Grin looked like he’d been teleported back to 2008 from the first superkick and then was unconscious as the second one connected. With him laid out on the canvas, her father covered for what she knew was inevitable—the first victory on his final march to Colossus.

She glanced down and looked at the simple offer sheet in front of her, which listed what Lindsay was willing to do to bring in a second-generation wrestler. As Rose leaned back in her chair, she closed her eyes and heard the crowd's overwhelming roar at the announcement that Dusk had won.

June 14, 2024

Rose’s mind was a tempest that mirrored the brooding sky outside her modest dressing room. The buzz and bellow of the distant crowd seeped through the walls like a premonition while she laced up her boots — the leather molding itself to her body with each match, each scuff and crease a silent testament to victory and defeat. They were snug, familiar, as she pulled the laces tight, weaving them into a pattern as intricate as her own tangled thoughts.

She stood up, her muscles coiling and uncoiling like serpents beneath her skin, a ritualistic dance perfected over years of rigorous discipline. The fabric of her outfit—black spandex pants, a white fitted undershirt, and a black sports bra on top—hugged her body like a second skin.

Today, Rose's usually piercing gaze wavered; shadows of doubt fluttered across her eyes like dark butterflies. Her mind wandered back to the previous week's events that were pulling her focus away. She rolled her shoulders back in an attempt to shrug off the weight of worry nestling there. Stretching one leg behind her and then the other, she felt the sinews lengthen like bowstrings.

A knock on the door was quickly replaced with a slight creak of a door. As Rose looked over, she saw in the threshold a woman she’d known for most of her life.

“Angelica,” Rose muttered before stretching and preparing for her upcoming match.

“Hey,” the backstage reporter offered with a friendly smile. She slipped into the locker room and closed it behind her, pressing her back against the metal object. “I figured I would step in and check on you. It’s weird to see you about to step foot in the ring with Gamble — I still remember sitting with you fifteen years ago when your father was challenging him for the Intense Title.

Rose nodded. “Yeah, that memory floated across my memory the other day. Seems like yesterday and a million years ago, all simultaneously.”

“Exactly. How are you feeling?”

Rose looked at Angelica, thinking she didn’t look like she’d aged a day in fifteen years. “It’s weird, you know? My Dad’s last victory came against Gamble. Gamble has been a figure in my life for as long as I could remember.”

“And yet, he somehow hasn’t changed one bit.”

A chuckle escaped Rose’s lips. “Exactly. Still, the same asshole he’s always been.”

“He may have softened a little.” When Rose looked at Angelica, she couldn’t keep her face straight and let loose a laugh of her own. Rose smiled as she began unraveling medical tape and began to apply it to her wrists.

“You mind if I help with that?” Angelica inquired, and Rose paused for a moment before nodding her head. Angelica stepped over and began tightening the tape around Rose’s wrists.

“You know,” Rose began. “I’ve had a reoccurring dream most of my life. This… spirit? Shadow? I don’t know how to describe it. It will appear randomly in my dreams with the widest, evilest grin I’ve ever seen.

Angelica locked eyes with Rose as she saw the prodigal daughter seemingly transported back in time.

“There was always something about Tony that frightened me. I mean, look at him. I can’t be surprised with those intense eyes and the scar extending from the corners of his mouth to his cheeks. He looks like a Batman villain come to life.”

Angelica continued to apply the medical tape as Rose continued to speak.

“On top of that, he was there at every turn — my father always found himself matched up against him. Whether it be one-on-one or in the Roulette or tag matches, it didn’t matter; Gamble was always there as if my father and him were tied at the hip together. Destined always to be forced upon one another.”

Angelica tore off the piece and smoothed it across her wrist. “Too tight?” Rose shook her head.

“My Dad, he never knew I would have nightmares before his matches with Gamble. Hell, I even had one before their last match together. But I look at Tony in person and know my mind has made him bigger than I could ever imagine.”

Rose glanced down at her wrists and flexed them slightly before walking to a nearby mirror. Her hair fell below her shoulders, and she shook her head.

“I get a chance to conquer that nightmare tonight for myself. I get to look across the ring and put it to bed once and for all.”

Angelica watched as Rose took her hair and tied it up into a ponytail.

“And how do you do that?”

A smile appeared on Rose’s face as she spun and looked at Angelica. She marched past her and flung the door open. She knew it was time to face her fears.

“By being brave,” the words came out confidently as she stormed out of the locker room and towards the Argyle position, leaving Angelica alone.

A smile appeared on Angelica’s face as she stood there. “Go get him,” she whispered to no one but herself before walking out of the locker room to watch the match on one of the many monitors in the backstage area.