The Dog

RIA Lockhart laid in bed, her eyes trained up at the ceiling like it was the most interesting thing in the world. This despite the unremarkable nature of the housetop. Was it white? Eggshell? Beige? She really didn't care. It was an absent gaze, even with the false focus. The mattress underneath her had a worn in groove; not due to how often she slept in the bed but rather due to the fact that she had made little effort to move from this spot for the last few days.

Yes, she got up to eat, to use the bathroom, any basic necessity her body forced her to address. Otherwise? RIA was practically glued to the furniture since coming back to Vegas following ReVival 78. The door stayed locked. As much as she adored Kohime, Lockhart didn't want to interact with her right now, if she happened to be around. She really didn't want to be around anyone.

She felt a weak vibration against the memory foam she lounged on, her ears just barely capturing the shifting of her phone against satin sheets. The Psychoberry debated just leaving the device there. She had gotten texts from Angel, offering anything from ice cream to a psychedelic trip to Mars. Though RIA loved Angel dearly, her frame of mind wasn't fit for any joy.

Still, she made the minimum effort possible to reach over and grab the phone. Maybe it was her mother, asking if RIA would be there for Christmas? It could be her brother or sister, though chances of that were low. It could be any number of notifications and, realistically, she would probably clear whatever this inconvenience to her misery was.

Unlock. Swipe down on the left side because Android is run by assholes that need to change things for no good reason. It wasn't Angel. It wasn't her mother. It was no member of her family. No, Lockhart had instead just received her booking for ReVival 79. Back home, or at least the closest stadium from where she had grown up; Morgantown, West Virginia. RIA Lockhart vs… Rob Williams.

Rob Williams.

A number of things bounce through her mind… Anger. Sorrow. Defeat. Anger that this match would even happen. Sorrow at what exactly this match could mean. And defeat… because she already had an idea how this would go. She was screwed. Already ice cold and she had to take on a guy she already lost to? What chance did she have?

Being awfully defeatist, aren't I?

She dropped the phone back onto the bed without concern for its landing. Her forearm gently flung upward to cover her still shut eyes.

Things have been rough. That Dawkins loss really stung. Ain't cuz the guy lacks talent… But he's such a douche. And then Anna…

Her lungs deflated, the sigh accompanying the action full of dolor. If only that defeat was the heaviest thing she was dealing with.

That's what they want, though. Screw me with mentally… Take away my focus. Look how that went with Dawkins. I thought the match had my full attention, just like any match does. But maybe not, huh?

She hated tapping out. Getting pinned was one thing. Passing out in a submission? That would've been fine too. In those situations, the body failed, not the spirit. RIA felt like hers was growing weaker. Weaker… but it wasn't broken yet. Mending the body might take time, but such a thing seemed far easier than healing a bruised ego, a battered spirit. What can one do for a thing such as that?

Moping like a bitch ain't gonna help me, is it?

The statement rang through her mind. It's what she was doing, wasn't it? Running. Hiding. That was easy. Shutting yourself away, putting up walls, freezing everyone out… It didn't solve any problems, simply moving them to the back burner instead of dealing with it. Chaos reigned in her head. Instead of cleaning the mess up… RIA tried to ignore it. She knew damn well how well that worked.

Spoiler: It doesn't.

So what could she do? The loss to Dawkins was in the books. Can't change that now. The group text to the Vae Victis members saying she didn't belong, that she was unworthy and would be distancing herself? Can't pull that back at this point. That was without Anna, Rob and having confidence down in the toilet. So what to do? Where to even start?

That's simple; confidence, dummy.

That would be the logical place for Lockhart to start. Without belief in herself, beating Rob (and eventually Anna) was next to impossible. She knew Williams was a tough draw, period. Facing him while ALSO giving him a mental edge was essentially a forgone conclusion. Her choice, what she needed to do, was obvious.

I have to fight.

Cliché? Probably. True? Definitely. But this was different. This was a fight before the fight. Yes, such a situation wasn't new to the Psychoberry. The battle for morale wasn't a unique one; it was a years long war, one she wasn't sure that could ever be won. But surrender wasn't an option. Not now, not ever. It wasn't just about letting people down. Yes, that was always a concern of hers; friends, family, Angel… The fans were a big one, of course.

Women. The LGBTQ+ community. Anyone that looked up to her for any reason, regardless of what it may be… RIA didn't take any support she received lightly. But there was another worry. What about letting herself down? It was a point of reflection Lockhart rarely glimpsed at. She liked making people happy, even at her own expense. But trying to replace self-fulfillment with the happiness of others didn't quite work the way she would like. There was still a void, an aching emptiness refusing to ever be totally silenced. Winning? It wasn't all that mattered.

But dear god, does losing suck.

So the slightly grumpy, super serious attitude RIA had been carrying? That needed to loosen up a bit. Focus was, of course, important. But Lockhart was beginning to realize something. In her goal to be seen as a ‘good wrestler’, she had let a sense of fun escape. Cracking down needed to be done on occasion. But was it worth losing heart? Yes, she wanted respect. She wanted to be taken seriously. But if there was one thing RIA didn't want, it was to lose herself in the name of that.

Screw it… I need to light it up. I need to shine.

That was what echoed in her mind as she felt her eyelids begin to sag. The weight of misery and doubt lifted just a bit, enough for a blanket of slumber to slide over her. Her chest steadily rose and fell. Her muscles slacked and the fists she had unconsciously been making unclenched. Off to Dreamland…

Grayscale. The city unfurled in front of RIA Lockhart was just… bland. People trudged along, sticking to themselves, anything happening outside their personal bubbles frivolous. Cars started and stopped in unison, as if an invisible conveyor belt dictated what went forward when. Neon signs, their blinding brilliance muted, also seemed to blink on and off in practically perfect timing. It was all so… soulless. Devoid of joy. Her gaze cast downward to her hands, palms upturned. Gray. No color. No fun.

“This ain't great, is it?”

A little voice squeaked out beside her. RIA glanced over, then down when the source wasn't at least shoulder level with her. A figure just taller than Lockhart’s knee bounced next to her. Their ears were longer and pointed. The assumed hair of the creature fell in silky waves past its waist, light pink and baby blue in color. RIA tilted her head, her attention on this skinny little thing next to her.

“Rainbow?”

The critter reminded her of the period in which Lockhart left said surname on official records only. The hair, a body of bouncing exuberance, prism eyes encouraging playful mischief… it was very much fitting. She couldn't help but smirk at the mini-me.

“Well aren't you cute?” RIA giggled. The little being allowed a sassy smile to slide over her face.

“Bitch, I'm friggin' adorable!” It bleated out. The gremlin clutched at Lockhart’s leg, the larger woman a flesh tree being scaled. It took a moment, but the wingless cherub eventually managed to scale her person. It positioned itself behind RIA's head, her hair acting as reins. Once comfortable, the creature swung its little arm forward, an index finger pointing further into the banal concrete jungle. “Forward, steed!”

The Psychoberry rolled her eyes and took a step forward. But that first step had consequences she wasn't prepared for. The paved road under her feet began to shift in color. The ashen gloom began to break; a slowly expanding circle spread from RIA’s right foot, the ground shifting to a rich obsidian. Her eyebrow cocked upward.

“What the hell?” Lockhart muttered. The pixie on her shoulders snickered.

“That's the power you have here!” It explained. “You can bring color to this lifeless lameness!”

She raised her hand, gently pressing it against her chest. RIA’s hair darkened, her trademark highlights popping. Her shirt and boots, similar in shade to the pavement, found their (total absence of) color. Her denim skirt gained faded blue pigment. Her own rainbow eyes shined. Lockhart’s feet strode with purpose, carrying her to a sidewalk. Every step, every footfall splashed chroma on the terrain. She turned her head slightly.

“So what should I call you?” RIA asked. “I'm not sure ‘little one’ is something I wanna say over and over.”

The gremlin hummed, eyes looking up, index finger tapping on its chin. A dazzling grin formed on its face as it resumed clutching Lockhart’s hair.

“Let's go with Miri!” The now Miri exclaimed. RIA softly nodded while the two trekked forward. As the pair drew closer to the heart of the city, activity and population increased. The people of this nameless metropolis turned their heads, sending baffled looks her way. Skipping up to a random woman, Lockhart delicately patted her on the shoulder. The lady's sweater gained a burgundy tint. Jeggings became dark blue, boots a chocolate brown. A wide smile found its way to her once demur expression as she strode forward boldly.

Tap. Pat. Smack. People became… people. Cars went from blah gray boxes to vibrant automobiles. Even trees were gifted lush green leaves. The most incredible thing wasn't the color beginning to fill the landscape; it was that everyone who gained it from RIA was able to spread it themselves.

“You see?” Miri pointed out. “You can give your gift to others and they can spread it themselves! It's a special thing, ya know? This place needed it.”

Another agreeable shake of the head came from Lockhart. Her eyes wandered, scanning over the scene. The citizens interacted; some chit chatted. Some argued. Whatever was being felt, there was at least emotion present. But the Steel Hart’s gaze was on one spot that seemed untouched by anyone.

An alley. Dark, dreary, bits of refuse and litter scattered about the enclosed area. But the passage wasn't vacant. Up against the end wall was a dog; its natural color was unclear, as no one dared to get close enough to lay so much as a fingernail on the canine. The animal's fur was matted, a tangled mess. Despite malnourishment, the dog was a decent size. It was maybe a few inches off from being a wolf. All this physical intimidation, and the beast would growl at anyone that showed enough gumption to draw near.

Yet RIA still did. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was her practically non-existent fear response. Whatever the reason, she was at the opening of the alley. The canine paced back and forth, growling slightly. More wolf than domesticated dog. A few steps closer Lockhart went. The guttural rumble emanating from the animal upped in volume.

“I don't like this…” Miri’s voice wavered. Lockhart’s eyes darted to the side.

“What, are you scared? I won't let anything happen to you.” RIA assured the little one. “Besides, I see something…”

It's hurting.

Yes. Underneath the shaggy fur and anger, there was pain and sadness in the dog's eyes. The growl was how it hid its pain. Every rumble from the beast felt like words to her.

“GRRRR!”

What it said was…

“Back the fuck off!”

Inches closer. More growling.

“Get out of here, you dumb bitch!”

The long, scraggly hair and sour disposition certainly reminded her of someone. Maybe that's why she thought those were the words she heard? He would probably say something like that to her. But she would be frightened. She wouldn't let him win. At least, not without some kind of effort on her part. She cautiously hovered a hand close to the dog, which snapped it's teeth at her.

“AHHHHH!” Miri squealed out in fear. Thanks to her quick reaction, Lockhart managed to fling her hand back, nary an injury present. Her focus bounced around the alleyway, looking for something… She found it. The broken remains of a wooden broom handle, about the length of her forearm. She snatched it up and drew closer to the dog. The stick lightly swayed in front of her, gripped in RIA’s left hand. A growl came from the animal before its fangs chomped around the wood. Gotcha. Still holding the handle, Lockhart swung her body to nudge the dog with her hand. And…

Nothing happened.

The beast stayed grey. Its aggressive disposition seemed unchanged, considering it was still trying to crack the stick in half with its mouth. Though Miri gasped, RIA remained tranquil. She knew something the whimsical mini never seemed to consider.

Not everyone can be saved.

Though the dog yanked at the wooden piece, the Psychoberry's grip remained firm. The standoff was simple, but raged for minutes; the animal pulled, RIA kept her grip strong. They shifted to the left, to the right, forward and back. The animal eventually relaxed its jaw, giving Lockhart the chance to pull the stick back. Stalemate. The dog, just short of frothing at the mouth, held its ground. RIA, her eyes narrowed and hard, planted her feet. She wouldn't be running.

But she would be waking up. Lockhart’s upper body lurched upright, her arms stretching out while she whipped her neck left and right.

CRACKCRACKCRACK

Her elbows and her neck all popped audibly. Used to the noise and sensation by now, RIA’s left hand ruffled the back of her hair before smoothing it out. She tossed the comforter she had wrapped up in at some point to the side. Her legs crossed.

Well that was a hell of a dream. Wonder if it meant anything?

Lockhart was surprised. Not by the dream nor the content within. The fact that she remembered it was what had her attention. Such a thing was a rare occurrence for her. She switched gears. The why wasn't all that important at the moment. The what was. She knew what the dog meant, who it represented. So what did it mean? She was no psychologist, even if the field fascinated her. She didn't exactly have time to get a degree before her next match, so she'd have to work based on personal assumptions.

Maybe the dog not changing was the way I feel towards Rob. How he lied about being sick? Proof that even if he's not a monster, he ain't great either. Then again, the dude did wanna set me on fire and eventually did so to Bash. Either way, I shouldn't hold back. He deserves a slap in the mouth from me. I did put myself in that situation, so I did get what was coming to me. But doing something that could potentially kill me, and at least disfigure me? Yeah. He deserves more than a slap from me.

Lockhart shifted her body, her legs uncurling and hanging off the side of the bed. She felt the laminate styled like smokey gray oak send the slightest chill up her body. Her next place needed heated floors, damn it! She unlocked her bedroom door before plopping herself down at the wooden desk stained black satin in color. She slightly sank into the plump black leather office chair situated in front of the furniture. RIA unlatched and spread the nail kit open like a tackle box. Base and finish polishes were pulled out and set down. Glancing through her options, her mind flickered back to the dream.

You can give your gift to others and they can spread it themselves!

She smiled softly. Light pink and baby blue bottles found themselves nestled between the base and finish coats. Off she went to the bathroom to wash her hands. She filed her nails before applying acetone to a pad, using it to wipe off her talons. She would occasionally head to a salon and pay to get them done. But this would be some therapy for her. The base coat went on to cover each nail on both hands. When one was done, it went under the UV lamp shaped in a semicircle. As RIA waited, she glanced over at a framed picture on the right side of her desk. It was a selfie of her and Angel; they were on the couch, Lockhart on her stomach and Angel splayed on top of her. The two were cheek to cheek, radiant grins on their faces. A similar one found its way to her lips, the last one having barely faded.

I'll have to send Angel a pic when I'm done.

The process was one she had become so familiar with, RIA was essentially on autopilot as she worked. That allowed her to think, which is why the activity was somewhat therapeutic for her. Yes, she could get inside her head in a bad way at times. It's what she had been doing the last month or so. But her mind was focused. That was when Lockhart could reflect without tearing herself down. That's what she needed right now; constructive contemplation.

I know all the good I can do, that I have done. It's great and I need to reembrace that. But this match with Williams ain't about that. It's not even about getting even. I need to do my best. Not for anyone else but me. Forget the pressure. Forget the result. Why beat myself up when plenty of people are happy to do it for me? I need to have fun. Real fun. I'm doing what I love. I deserve to do what I love! I know what I gotta do; Break out some cool shit, let my light shine. See just how long Robbie can stand in that light without flinching.

I never thought I'd get to somewhere like PRIME. I'm still not sure I even belong here. Screw it, though. I am here. I sell shitloads of merch. I get to work with my stunning girlfriend and plenty of other friends. I'm damn near a 10. Why let others like Williams drag me down? Why let Anna destroy me emotionally? Why worry? I got this. Even if I lose… I got this. Hope Robbie is ready. I wanna send a few messages with this match. I'm gonna show my old home just what I got going on nowadays. And I'm gonna show THEM that I might be down... But I ain't dead yet.