0017.MP4 - "A Certain Kind"
Feb 18, 2016 12:08:47 GMT -5
Post by Izzy Anders on Feb 18, 2016 12:08:47 GMT -5
“Goodbye, mother,” Izzy stated coldly. She held in her hands a scrapbook. Before her was a raging pyre, nipping at her ankles. She stared as coldly as she spoke into the blaze. In her hand, she dangled a photograph. It bore a simple documentation of Izzy growing up. Seventh grade, a blur in Izzy’s mind. She let go of the photo, letting it be consumed by the fire. It turned to cinders before she knew it, but it didn’t bother one bit. She merely reached into the scrapbook taking out another one.
She looked at it more intently than the previous one. It was her only one of her father and her. She was a baby. He held her with such pride upon his face. Maybe he knew of what she would do. Some people say that the dead, or the soon to be, can see into the future. Izzy gazed for only a moment more, before flicking the photograph into the fire.
All must be erased in order to start anew.
She tested her resolve by tossing individual photographs into the fire before her. A numbness did wash over her at some point. Her face was still stained with tears that forced their way out. She glided a finger underneath her eye to see if any more tried to worm their way out. None came, which satisfied somewhere inside. She placed her hand back underneath the scrapbook, before lifting up above her head. Without a noise, she threw it into the fire. It suddenly reached for the sky, as if it tried to escape the earth.
Pictures of her parents, pictures of her youth, pictures of her best friends, Artemis and Kaya, and pictures of more recent times went up in a brilliant blaze. The pyre threatened to consume Izzy too, but she took a careful step away from its scorching maw. Izzy reached over and grabbed a fire extinguisher. She sat down in a seat, watching the scrapbook dissolve away. A trivial pain registered from looking at the brightness for so long, but she needed to see it go.
When all the pictures were gone, merged into pathetic ash, she stood up. She unleashed the fire extinguisher’s contents upon the fire, killing it briskly. She lowered down the instrument to gaze at what was left. All of her documented memories laid in a pile of insignificance. She disconnected herself from everything in order to do so. She knew deep within that if she allowed herself to feel the destruction that she just caused, she would break down.
She needed to do this in order to make herself ready.
She looked radiant; Izzy had to admit that. The little runt, Artemis von Licht, was the first one to be in the dreaded wedding dress. Izzy and Kaya Lovelace sat in front of Artemis who twirled about in her dress. She watched as the edges of it spun around with her, akin to a dog with its own tail. Izzy let free a giggle, which stopped Artemis in her tracks. False aggression escaped her lips.
“What is so funny?” Artemis asked, her upright tone causing both bridesmaids to laugh loudly. Artemis grimaced at their laughter; the young destroyer even blushed slightly. Among the prominent scars (that were only covered slightly by makeup), many didn’t get a chance to see Artemis’s cuteness. This wedding would be one of the few times that this has happened. Furthermore, the usually demonic woman would play the part of the blushing bride.
“The little demon is getting hitched,” Kaya said, her rough dialect seeping out.
“You are just jealous,” Artemis threw up her head dramatically.
Izzy sat there, chewing on a grape that she snatched from the catering table. Artemis’s eyes fell upon her. “Izzy, did you really take something already?” she almost shrilled, her face getting red once more. Izzy gulped down the food, before looking at both ladies in the room.
“I had to make sure the money was worth it,” Izzy made a quick excuse, prompting Kaya to let out another giggle. The perfectionist in the room merely made an exasperated noise and turned back to the mirror. She finally made contact with her own eyes, and saw her figure in it. Artemis let out another noise, sharply turning away from her own reflection.
“Girls, I am getting married and I am so frightened by it! Is this supposed to happen?”
Izzy and Kaya shared a brief look. Izzy took it upon herself to answer. “Miss von Licht, you are allowed to be for this,” she began to explain. “This is not a match or anything. None of your enemies are looking.”
“How do you know?!” Artemis took the prospect seriously.
“Uh, Kaya would have murdered them,” Izzy looked at Kaya, who was inspecting Artemis’s gown.
“Yeah, what she said,” Kaya mumbled, tightening a part of the extravagant piece. Artemis made a startled noise. “Ah, shush up, that didn’t hurt,” Kaya added.
Izzy looked out of the window, managing to catch glimpses of the people outside. Artemis and Salem went for a smaller venue, probably per Artemis’s request. Her social anxiety probably backed her into a corner. Members of both families lingered about. All of Artemis’s siblings, sans Peyton (who had disappeared) and Sophie (who had disappeared…mentally) walked about, probably telling embarrassing stories about the bride-to-be.
Over time, Izzy spaced out a bit. Butterflies flew around the nighttime air. Izzy could tell they were peaceful manifestations. They fell upon certain people, not drawing their attention. Their serenity made Izzy smile a bit throughout the chaos in the room. She saw all the people interacting with each other in such a friendly and joyous environment. Izzy even allowed for a smile, despite the recent turmoil in her life. Her best friend was getting married. There was no need to feel troubled by anything at all. A little butterfly landed on Izzy’s finger. She silently marveled at it before it faded away into non-existence.
It was New Year’s Eve. After the wedding, Salem would have to go to HKW Defiance to fight. Izzy believed that they scheduled the wedding this way to avoid a long ceremony. In any regard, Izzy would go see what the whole shebang was all about. As all the butterflies faded away, Izzy’s mind altered around the ideals of the matchup. She didn’t need to be vocal about anything.
As Salem walked down the aisle, Izzy’s eyes not only gazed at her otherworldly beauty, they analyzed her as a competitor. She began to see what were her issues. There were scars to be examined. Those scars turned into potential weaknesses. Artemis didn’t have to know what Izzy was doing during their vows. All Izzy had to do was stand there and be content with life. Which she was. It just so happened that Salem was also Izzy’s future opponent. Izzy smiled devilishly, but did so subtly enough that no one could see. Salem isn’t just her opponent; she’s Izzy’s future victim.
When Artemis and Salem kissed, sealing the deal, Izzy pictured how she could break Salem’s arm if she needed to.
Later on the show, Salem suffered a devastating beat down by the hands of Nicole Hamilton. While Artemis looked on in silent horror, Izzy made notes of all the mistakes that Salem made. While she did that, she hugged Artemis. On this night, Izzy completed another part of her metamorphosis.
She managed to create a second part of herself. One that could focus in on wrestling while the other being existed in the real world. There were too many things at stake for her to pass up. If she didn’t do this, she would have never seen what Salem did wrong. Izzy settled on it not being a development of schizophrenia. It was just a change to better herself. This second portion of psyche made things so much easier.
It was a neutral, uncaring entity. It made her into one too. Devoid of remorse, Izzy took down Annie Zellor. She didn’t care what the fans thought. She even snickered at the idea of breaking Annie like she did Dom. It was a sick, sadistic thought pattern, but not rooted in the ideology. It just so happened to be. The issue came when Izzy began to enjoy the feeling of glee she got from doing what she did.
Adrenaline, dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin, and vasopressin. These are the chemicals that emit when love makes its way into the mind of a person. All five mix together into a concoction, signifying primal, emotional, and mental feelings towards a solitary person. Some scientists believe that if one told their intimate secrets to a random person, then stared at them for a few minutes, the two would be married at the end of the year.
What is the science behind hatred?
The frontal cortex remains active when someone sees someone they hate. When someone sees someone they love the frontal cortex lessens itself. The more hatred that a person bears for someone, the livelier the frontal cortex becomes. The putamen also plays a huge role in this. This relates to an innate need for humans to defend themselves. Perhaps when someone spots someone they hate, they queue up aggressive impulses in order to protect themselves. What’s funny is that the putamen is a source of movement for humans. In conclusion, it activates in order to protect a loved one, but will also activate in order to be ready to assault someone that person despises.
There is a fine line between love and hatred, but it’s only that, a simple line. Hatred is not a knee-jerk reaction. It is a well-thought out emotion that our brain manufactures over time. The intensity grows or dissipates depending on the outward situations that occur.
In Izzy’s case, that hatred must have built up through love for another individual. Another restless night Izzy suffered through. She sat on the edge of her bed, rubbing her face slowly. She massaged her temples, a headache had settled. Another night terror plagued her on that evening. One of what she wanted to do to Dom Harter. She rose her head up to see her calendar hanging on the wall. She stood up and walked over to it, flipping the months back until it got a circled date. In red marker Izzy left a message for herself. Dom Harter was coming back around that time and she had to be prepared for him.
She felt sick to her stomach. She wanted to be Dom’s friend, but any possibility of that flew out of the window. He was coming back to harm her worse than he did prior to Final Frontier, worse than what she did to him. Izzy’s nightmares consisted of all the things she thought she had to do to him when he came back. She read the message to herself, mumbling it out.
“Dom Harter’s end.”
She pursed her lips and lowered the pages back down back to February. She looked at the day, February 20th. Salem awaited her on that day, coming to take the MAL championship. Izzy, wearily, traced her finger across the calendar. That hand fell off the calendar and went towards a fine tip pen. She uncapped it and went to writing. She murmured out what she wrote; it was a bad habit of hers.
“You must win this match.”
“You must win this match,” she repeated, before letting the pen fall out of her hand.
“You must win in order to get to him,” she preached to herself. She let out a guttural noise and headed into the kitchen. She flicked on the light casually, strolled over to the wine cabinet, and took out one of Emery’s bottles. She sat at a table with a glass and poured a shot.
She was never an alcohol girl, but she knew its therapeutic qualities. Only tonight would she let alcohol heal her sleep.
She promised herself.
“I am sorry, Salem,” Izzy began, clutching at her MAL championship.
The deterioration of Izzy Anders has become quite the horrible thing to witness. The fans have rightfully turned upon the once beloved girl. Izzy done the same to them, opting not to even recognize them. The ray of light that used to shine in FGA was corrupted by the nuances of her own mind and the facilities of wrestling. Izzy Anders, the smiling wonder girl, had died off. She sat idly in a room, letting the motion of a loose light bulb detail her features. She swept loose strands of her face, showing a dismayed expression plastered upon it.
Her eyes were sunken in, from lack of sleep. “We have reached an issue. Actually, no,” Izzy shook her head, “I have reached an issue.”
“There’s always been a sliver of fear that ran through my body since I decided that you would be my next contender. You, Salem Cartier, are an important woman by proxy. Hell, I attended your wedding only a month ago. Yet, it’s only because of one woman that binds us. Artemis von Licht, my best friend and mentor, and your wife,” Izzy snickered. “That’s still funny to say. Artemis…married,” she let a long, exhausted laugh.
Izzy lowered her championship down, resting it upon her lap. She reached into the pocket of her black jeans and pulled out a quarter. While it glistened in the light, Izzy examined its form. She twirled it around her fingers with great dexterity, akin to a street magician. She even made it disappear for a second before bringing it back to view. She grinned at her endeavor and then showed it to the camera.
“I had to fight with the two sides of myself,” she began.
“The friend. The one that happens to like you quite a bit, Salem. There’s a lass in me that respects you not only as a competitor, but as Artemis’s wife. That girl has bundled up some many feelings inside of herself that Kaya and I never thought that she would ever find someone. But lo and behold, you exist. She didn’t even get mad when you beat here at YGC,” Izzy stopped once again, chuckling over the fact.
“The girl that wants Artemis and you to be happy, the one that wants you to succeed her in FGA kept chomping away at the bit,” she emphasized the heads side of the coin. “She’s the one who let you have this opportunity. She’s the one that said that you won your way into this title picture, despite the tainted ending of that match. She’s the one that almost stopped the other side from dropping you where you stood last Vertigo.”
Izzy then showed the tails side. It was damaged, a long cut ran down the coin. “But that poor, weak girl couldn’t do anything to stop me from taking over the situation. She told me about the wrath of Artemis Kaiser and what would happen if I left you a bloodied mess in the middle of that ring. I told her something very simple.”
“I’m not scared of anyone.”
“That’s when she shut up and let me take full on control. And now, we’re here,” Izzy dropped the coin to the ground.
She watched the coin for a moment, lolling her tongue around in her mouth. She then spat at the dirty ground, looking ghoulishly in that direction. She moved her jaw around in her mouth, cracking it. The audible noise rang around over the low frequencies of the buzzing light fixture. “Let’s get the obvious out of the way. I’m ready to make you regret wanting this championship shot. More than a rematch against Jimmy Page. More than your Last Woman Standing against Nicole Hamilton in a little while.”
“Matter of fact, Nicole might not get a chance to fight you. Hell, Nicole might be jealous of the things that I might do to you,” Izzy whipped the corner of her mouth, ridding of the accumulated saliva that sat there.
“The wedding was beautiful, but our match is going to be the exact opposite of that, because I have a need to beat you, Salem. I’m still enjoying my championship reign. I’m not stopping at being the best MAL champion in FGA history. There are more goals in sight now. Perhaps I become the longest reigning champion period. Or the first double champion in FGA. I don’t know. I just know that I have aspirations past my first accomplishment. A champion doesn’t stop being a champion when there’s nothing else to do. A true champion keeps striving forward, making their belt look brighter and brighter.”
“Sadly, I have to get past you. No, I have to force my way past you, because you’re a tough wall to breach. You have momentum like no other. You came riding in on a storm. You pushed Jimmy Page to his limits. You beat a former world champion, albeit questionably, but you did do that. You placed high in the Young Guns Cup. Salem Cartier, you’re a bad woman.”
Izzy laughed, stretching back in her chair. She went silent. Before long, the silence was interrupted by a solitary crack, her back. Izzy brought herself back up, hunching over. Her head shrouded her tired face. She swept a few strands from her face again, revealing her eyes. They focused on nothing at all. “But you best believe that I’m worse.”
Once again, Izzy went quiet. This time, there were no laughs. Not even a chuckle escaped her. Instead, a somberness emitted from her. She held her championship now loosely in her hand. She watched it dangle on her fingers. “I have done some…horrible things to preserve my reign, you know. Everyone knows. Everyone hates me for it, honestly. You know the most horrible thing I’ve done.”
Another pause. “I rather not make this match another tragedy. I especially don’t want to one up my acts against Dom Harter. No, no, I cannot let that happen. Artemis would hate me forever, if she did. Nina and all of your friends would witch hunt me. It’d be a mess that I don’t want to deal with. Because you know what you’re getting into. You know how I treat championship matches. These aren’t impersonal events. You’re not a challenger for my belt. You’re a threat to my livelihood.”
“I do a lot with the bonus I get from being champion. I’m not entitled like you are now,” Izzy coughed. “Sorry. That was not meant to be a jab. It’s the state of things right now. Added on top of that, you’re another one of those people who just wandered in FGA and got recognized for their past accolades. We, FGA originals, have to suffer from it, but you know what? It’s asinine at this point. I’ll just internalize my hatred for this system,” Izzy mumbled her last few words, before lowering her head.
“Because other than my own pride, my want to keep this dream of mine alive, and my raw agitation towards you, Salem…there’s a final reason that’ll drive me to keep this belt out of your hands,” Izzy explained, hazily pointing at the camera.
“It’s Dom.”
“That man’s coming back to FGA. He wants to complete his Grand Slam, but I think I managed to do enough of a number on him to make him want to beat my brains in more than win this belt here. But he also wants to rip this away from me,” Izzy held the MAL championship high into the air.
“The impending satisfaction of not letting him win, not letting him hurt me ever again, and possibly ending him for good drives me. My own hatred of a single man has pushed me to a new threshold. And it will help push me past you too, Salem. If I have to kick your damn teeth down your throat in order to protect what’s mine, you damn well know I’m going to do and I will smile doing so!”
“I don’t care if Artemis hates me after this match. I don’t care if you hate me after this match,” Izzy pounded her chest, “There’s a certain kind of hatred that exists in me. And it’s stronger than any love that drives you, Salem. You won your shot. You have one chance just like many others to try to dethrone the best damn MAL champion in FGA history.”
“But can all the love, magic, and hope in the damn world push you to beat me? I don’t think so. And I’m going to make you realize that in the most painful way possible,” she took a sharp breath. “I have to admit, what I did at Vertigo wasn’t spontaneous. That was all pre-meditated. And at Canadian Stampede, I’m going to finish what I started. In front of your hometown. In front of your devoted fans.”
“And especially in front of my best friend, your wife.”
