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MJ Bell

League Member
Feb 21, 2015
Weightless. Hovering above everything with water beneath my body keeping me wavering. Darkness surrounding my vision while random images dancing across the space. It's red spattering across a lightly colored wall and subtle grunts. Roars echo shaking the foundation with fury. A precious hand lifts stained with the fear of the victim while it threatens to strike again. I remember asking... “How could you touch me with that soiled body? How could you love so dearly?” The questions ooze with fear only deepened within my body, my own tainted form pleading forgiveness for his sins. Icey blues stabbed into my soul repeating the apologizes, demanding my departure from the scene, but my feet had already sunken roots. The blood is trailing with the fleeing person that he released because I stood there.... Finally, the rush of heat flooded my own body causing my hand to slap against rough flesh. He's eyes are dangerous but my throat fumes with hatred shutting him cold...

“Yeah. – I know. – I think she's okay for now. – I'll call if anything changes. – I... I don't know.”

My brother's voice mumbles through the haze dragging me to consciousness from my dream. My head is pounding warning me to not move too suddenly so I opt to turn my head. Finn is pacing around talking into the phone quietly before he says his goodbyes. When he turns we lock eyes.

“Good morning...”

“Morning… Was that Kenshin?”


“ W-what happened?”

“You tell me. Look, Madeline, I know this whole Battlemania thing is important to you but training to this extend isn't going to help you..”

My memory is jumbled because I can't be training that hard. I train a bit, I rest then I practice for the upcoming concert. It doesn't make sense but everyone keeps acting as if I'm acting strange. Ever since Defiance they've all been keeping an eye on me but I'm perfectly fine.

“I'm not pushing myself any harder than I normally do. Regardless, I need to make sure I'm prepared to win--”

“Don't give me that shit! How are you suppose to win a battle royal if you are passing out?!”

Finn inhales through his flared nostrils then turns away.

“I'll take a few days off, okay? I'll lounge around so you guys will get off my back.”

My eyes begin to close again. I'm exhausted. Finn agrees then tells me to get back to sleep. My mind drifts off into darkness again.... I'm watching auburn locks sway with rare laughter. Yes, across the table sits my friend. We laugh even though her face has vanished. The words are simple hums, they make perfect sense for the current conversation to no one but me. We continue to talk until she reaches out to pat my shoulder. There must be something wrong because the air froze. My body is tensed up like I'm falling but the faceless friend continues to speak until my feet lift. We continue to talk but now I can't even understand... I don't remember the last time I saw Amber but it must have been at this point...

The scene flips upside down until I'm sat in the center of a mat with bright lights blinding everything. Like a ghost, the figure steps forward with dark swallowing him up. His hand extends slowly, fingers curling to summon my rise. When our hands slip together he lifts me tossing my balance. Our hands remain locked before the Ripper pulls me into an embrace. A smile, a fleeting proud moment before gold is in my hands. My knees rattle as I hoist it and watch the shadow creep away...

The room is now dim tugging me back into reality from my brief dreams. My head no longer washes with haze as I sit up. My phone blinks with notifications that are ignored because my feet drag me straight for the small kitchen. Finn and his band members are talking about nonsense when I enter

“Hey! Look who is finally awake!”

“You better hope Battlemania is at night because your sleeping schedule is fucked.”

“Speaking of Battlemania I am really upset that you didn't invite us to see you kick ass.”

“Maddy has to focus on winning, right? Or do you hate us?

I stand baffled by the rapid fired questions so I dismiss them with a wave of my hand. Finn turns around handing over the sandwich he just finished making.

“Speaking of, I really need to get back to the gym.”

I eye Finn who shakes his head at my attempt of a joke. My body is no longer heavy and I feel like going on a jog. Outside the window is dark so probably best if I don't even bother. The guys are back to jabbering and I drown myself into their conversation.


Tingling sensation combs through my fingers, vibrating energy through my skin while it makes me jittery. This is a “too much coffee in my bloodstream” feeling that makes people feel like tiny volts of electricity are buzzing through them. I love it. The small room expands around us but I’m not worried about the location. There is an art behind predicting an opponent's movements. I watch the tense of his muscles, his foot sliding to the left, tiny rotation of his waist and his hands flexing to move. I dodge to the left avoid his strike before thrusting my palm against his chest then move once more jabbing my fist against his side. He is twisting but my foot hits the back of his knee sending him stumbling, my fist rushing to finish but stops inches.

A complex expression dawns on the trainer's face: amusement and annoyance. Justin shakes his head standing to tower over me.

“How many times do I have to tell? Finish it.”

“Why should I bother--”

“Are you are just going to stop mid-swing, mid-move during the Battlemania? No? Then don't limit yourself during training.”

Instead of answering my hand shoves against his chest, dropping to sweep his legs out before flipping on top of him. My fist swings rightfully to his cheek before I pressure my knee against his sternum.

“No reason to push myself to where I know I can go. This is practice, not the real thing. I am fully capable to finishing any one of those contenders entering into that tournament. You are here to help me spar not lecture me about 'pushing' myself. I don’t need to push anything, do you understand?”

The slow smile appears while he reaches up to rub his cheek before shooing me off. I stand up taking a couple steps away from him. There is a small gap of silence before Justin waves me forward.

“Again, come on.”

I rush forward watching the impact of my limbs to his. Shaking deep within my body I continue with new force knocking Justin backwards. His movements unstable the more weight I toss and suddenly the whole room is dark spinning in like a vortex. Justin is close then tunnels into nothingness. A blooming light breathes through the black opening up a rush of red. My body clashing into faceless bodies while roars thunder the scene. Continuing to battle until large hands sweep me up from the scene like I'm a toy in a claw machine. The battle fades away before I am dumped against a harsh floor again.

Justin in beneath me while I fist rests against his forearm with a small bonk. His eyes are wide hidden behind both of his arms before his adam's apple moves with a swallow.

“...Think that is enough for today, Madeline-June.”


I murmur trying to remember how we went from standing to me on top again. Justin eyes me with confusion and something else; concern? Fear? Pride?

“If you can do that inside that battle royal then I don't see you losing...”

I smile gently but there is a crawling in my gut. Unknown fear is pulsing through me but perhaps it was just from the long day I had. Tomorrow I'll take the day off again. No need to push myself too hard. My hands shakily accept a water bottle while I focus on my knuckles that sting. Out of the corner of my eye, Justin rubs his chin staring away. He always seems proud of my growth but right now it's quiet. What did I do?

“Why are you in Battlemania? It's been something I've been asked since I signed up for Battlemania. Money? Bragging rights? The trophy? Revenge? To prove something? I know it's going to be different for everyone entering in. A few people assume I joined to prove myself as a female wrestler but I don't think anyone actually underestimates women in this business anymore. Throughout my own career I have competed against men, I've tagged with men and I have beaten men. Gender doesn't limit my abilities as an athlete. Not quite sure I understand why it has become such a hot topic as of late but I digress.”

“Coming into this tournament is to test my own abilities, personal proof that I have truly grown as a wrestler. A simple: hard work has honestly paid off. There isn't a better way to do that then put myself in a high risk battle royal with people who aren't distracted by petty things between us. That doesn't extend to everyone in this match but for the majority... Battle royals have been large points in my career. At this point, I've been in three, being an iron woman in two. When I heard about this I knew that I found something that would force me to go to new lengths; push me a little harder. I'm not the type to be pleased with just staying in place as far as my skills go. I know that I am just getting started and going to continue to be tested. It's what I look forward to and what I love about being apart of wrestling.”

“Something I have realized in this business is talking big won't produce big wins. At times it's just a platform for others to take whatever said to throw it right back in their faces. It takes a whole lot for people to be allowed to hold titles such as 'greatest', 'elite', 'incredible' and it is more than being able to insult a person. It sounds so generic but in the ring no one is thinking about the fact you called them a 'no talent, idiotic, scum rat.' Unless, of course, you are easily distracted. There are times when it is hard to remove the chip but since I barely know any of you, all those implied insults aren't going to stop you from being thrown out on your ass. Those of you that I do know, well, our history is on display at this point. Amber, has been through hell with me but that doesn't mean we won't set aside personal to win. While Danny on the other hand, this is a rematch that we needed. Honestly, I know a few of you, worked with a handful, and some I really expected better. Instead, some focused on childish tactics to gain some footing. The fallen have come to regain glory but the mountain is getting steeper and steeper, Ian.”

“So many clichés come to mind: “Talk is cheap”, “Actions speak loudest”, “I have been World Champion, I have faced legends, I have etcetera, etcetera, etcetera”, “I am a force to reckon with because I have worked my ass off”and the list goes on and on. In the end, the only thing going to cement my words is going to be beating every single person in that ring. Everyone enjoys claiming that it doesn't matter what we've done, where we've gone, who we've beaten but it is important. Forgetting the path that lead them to this point is ignorant at best. There is no reason to tell one person they might be the last two then turn to tell another he is horrid. Based on what standards but the credentials they've told. Hypocrites like to try and sound witty by smudging accomplishments to dust but it's what we solidify in our names. When I win it will be told that I won Battlemania, case and point. They will be forced to recognize that this is a victory on my belt and not theirs. I refuse to allow anyone tell me my accomplishments are null and void simply because they say it. There is going to be one winner bred from 30 people entering into the battle royal... It won't be Ian Bishop, it won't be Aidan Morag, Matt Meyhu, Amp, Danny B, Amber Ryan or anyone else... I am walking into Battlemania just another wrestler but I am walking out the victor! I welcome everyone to try and prove me wrong.

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