~*~ August 4, 2005 - Toronto, Canada ~*~

I recalled people yelling.

A couple frantic voices, then I felt lips on mine and was thinking about who would be kissing me while I was so out of it...then I realized that this person wasn't trying to make a move, they were breathing air into my lungs. And then the pushing on my chest only further proved my disembodied logic.

Someone else was applying heavy pressure to my left wrist, but all I could focus on was the air filling my lungs, stabbing pain in my chest.

It was as if I was observing everything from somewhere else. I wanted to tell the person to stop...that the white lights were warm and comforting. I was at peace...finally... and then I was hauled painfully back into reality when I looked up and the eyes staring back into mine were hazel, caring and concerned. The eyes of my brother's ex-girlfriend...Electra Stevens.

I must have passed out again after that because when I groggily came too, I was hooked up to a machine that beeped along with my heart rate. There was a tube down my throat, a mask over my face and I was tied down to the bed.

What the hell had happened?

I tried to move and then there was a warm hand on my arm...or maybe it seemed warm because I was so cold. Again... It was Electra looking at me. A little relief that I'd woken on my own and then there was also some anger there as well.

Anger?

What the fuck happened to me?

Then it all started coming back in painful shredded pieces.

Locking myself in the bathroom. Taking my Dad's straight blade to my wrist. At first the cut was insignificant. Only enough to inflict the pain, rather than make any kind of damage but that pain wasn't enough to satisfy the enraged voices in my head. It wasn't enough to make them stop. The sedition that usually came with such a minor wound was not enough. The Rage needed more...so I cut a little deeper. Still the rage roared on. Making me punch the bathroom cabinet. Even that pain wasn't enough. I cut deeper still. It wasn't until I could see what little fat I had inside the neat, deep cut on my wrist that the rage started to ebb...but it was too late. I couldn't stop the blood and it poured down my arm. Starting to make a puddle. Making me woozy, making me feel...at peace. Next thing I knew...I was so sleepy that I laid down on the tiles, not caring that my hair was saturated in my own blood...dying it pink.

Coming back from my memories, Electra is still staring at me intently. I don't know what it is she expects me to say with a tube down my throat. She starts talking before I can finish any thoughts.

Electra: I don't know what your reason for doing this was. I know you can't be that unhappy that you would try and commit suicide. Just know this Kahlan...nothing is that bad. I can speak from experience.

I knew what she talked about, even if she didn't know I knew about what her step father had done to her. I never let on that I'd overheard something I shouldn't have. I wanted to explain that I wasn't trying to kill myself...I was just trying to make that rage go away. Like I had for so many years.. hiding my scars from my family with sweatbands, bangles and studded leather wristlets. No one ever suspected the real reason was to hid Band-Aids and gauze...scars of my past deeds, until now at least.

She leans down, moves some stray hair away from my forehead and kisses it.

Electra: I'm going to say it now, when you don't have a voice to offer a rebuttal, but I love you like a sister Kahlan and no matter what you say or do, nothing will ever change that. Sisterhood is for life.

She turns and leaves and all I can do is blink after her.

How could she love me? After everything I'd done to her. After everything I'd yelled at her. I think I even at one point wished her death because I hated the fact that she'd hurt my brother so badly...but still, this woman, this fucking perfect saint, has unwavering love for me? I was an asshole.

~*~ March 7, 2013. Las Vegas, Nevada ~*~

Survival of the fittest.

The rule of the animal kingdom.

When an animal will do whatever it takes to make sure that they are the top 'dog' in the world.

That's what I Am.

I worked my ass off for this belt. I didn't kiss anybody's ass. I didn't sleep my way to the top. No. I went out there, I beat people and I took what was mine. I sure as hell didn't stand around and let ANYBODY come into my ring and take my possessions. Especially not without a fight. I am not a push over.

I sure as hell am not going to stand here and take your bullshit lines like they bare any kind of weight, whatsoever; Roxi.

We can play this game forever and a day and you know what the outcome is always going to be? Me still holding this title and you...playing dress-up while you claim to be the best that MPW has to offer.

Do you see the realism of this? That in the deepest darkest corners of that twisted deluded mind of yours that nothing you say is going to break me?

Talk is cheap.

I know this because I talk... a lot. It's what I do best besides getting into that ring and making an impact. I can talk anybody up until the proverbial cows come home...one thing nobody has ever accomplished is...shutting me up and don't have any pretty little thoughts that you're going to be the one to do it. I'm far from being done...and a simpleton freak like you is certainly not going to be 'career ending' for me.

Claiming to be something is far different that BEING something. I claim to be the best and that's because I am...I've proved it numerous times. You, on the other hand, claim to be the leader of some imaginary revolution...well honey I hate to break it to you but in order to be a leader of something...you kind of need to have other people with you....

I don't see anybody standing up behind you saying they're part of RA... Roxi's Army. And really.. I'm flattered that you even think you need a 'revolution' of people to defeat me and my 'injustice'.

You also claim to be better than me....ahhhhh really? And is that because you won the TV title at one point...and how long did it take you to do that exactly? My brother, Justin...yeah you remember him, my family...a man that I probably dislike and distrust, who would rather use cheap tactics to win then real skill... well he won that title without even breaking a sweat....and you're talking about how hard you had to work to gain such a low level achievement? You should be ashamed. The TV title is the training wheels of title holding. I really think you should go back to that, your nowhere near ready....not even close to my level.

So your solution to that is to pump yourself up as some rebel? You're playing all jealous heroine because I proved myself right out of the starting gates? Where as you...they had doubts and told you to shape up or ship out? You say you grasped some brass ring while I was just handed shit. Really? If I were handed shit around here I'd be the fucking World champion....no... what I have is years of experience. I worked my ass off too to get where I am. What do you think that almost a year ago I came to Bill Adams looking for a job? Fuck No. He sought me out. He watched my tapes, he liked what he saw. He knew I had the fortitude to be a number one contender not only in MPW but in this sport. He didn't need me to grasp any rings or stick my neck out. The overall result is the fact that I hold the Sin City title. Not You. And that's the plain truth of it.

You want this belt so bad. The fact that you have to face me just leaves a bad taste in your mouth. You want to prove to the world that your better than me...why? Why would little ol' Roxi Johnson want to go toe to toe with Bliss Fischer? Now I could easily give the cop out answer and say jealously but I know that's not the reason....no... you have no reason to be envious of what I have. Do you? You know because you only talked about how you thought you were better than me. Someone that is only faced the cr�me a la cr�me of MPW. I haven't had to dredge around amongst the sewer rats for a meaningless title. I mean with your very obvious 'loathing' of Drake Hunter you couldn't possibly want him....hatred so bad that you'd love to see him dead for real....so it's reasonable to believe you aren't needing a man...or woman...whatever... You obviously don't have the same kind of insane rage that I do that constantly eats at your soul. No... your too 'perfect' for all those real human emotions.. I mean you do fancy yourself some weird x-men character....so that in itself should be enough to show that your the end all be all in this company right?. Excuse me for not bowing to your magnificence.

I know I'm not perfect and again.. thanks ever so much for continuing to put words in my mouth. Assumption is a dangerous thing Roxi baby. It makes an ass out of you and me....however... I don't take much stock in your words....you know why? I have confidence. Confidence that I will retain my title and walk away laughing in that pretty little face of yours. Confidence that I will make sure that I cause you enough bodily harm that you remember MY face for the rest of your pathetic useless life...on top of that... I have so much self confidence that it might just blow you away, you know, since you believe I'm such a self loathing troll and all.

Self loathing? naw... what's to hate? I am perfectly happy with myself. But you, no You've never dealt with true strife in your life Roxi. You don't seem to realize that it takes that kind of thing...you know... nearly dying... to wake you up. I know.. you're a super hero. You've faced death thousands of times and always managed to vivaciously wake up practically unscathed. Let me tell you a thing or to Roxi. This is real life. Not some fantasy Fan girls wet dream where everyone shakes hands and goes home.

Now I'm not saying I'm anybody's hero...fuck far from it, in fact there are only a handful of people I would ever lay my life down for. But I have a problem with people who pretend to be something they're not.

You stand there and pretend that your special. That the rules don't apply to you. That you're so incredibly different than everybody else. Fuck you and fuck the pedestal that you put yourself on. You disgust me. You say you're better...but yet you're no fucking different than I am. You talk about a revolution but yet put me down for my belief that the fans have ruined this business, putting me down for wanting my own kind of 'revolution'...believe what you want Roxi. I could tell you all the reasons why I'm right but it wouldn't matter to you because you can only ever look at what's straight ahead of you. Only see your own twisted ideals of morality. You're so ridiculously narrow minded that it shames everything this business is about.

You misunderstood my words. Not all 'fans' are bad. In fact I think I remember saying that it's the ones that cheer for who ever is 'hot right now' that are at fault for the slow and steady decline that this business has been headed in. Don't want to think about that do you? You don't want to think about the fact that when wrestling was pure...you didn't need to sell t-shirts or action figures to make money. It was about the sport. When this was actually considered a sport. Now it's simply 'entertainment'...that's what's wrong with it. You promote the commercialism, and so, the fans that support you, they also support this virus of destruction.

If all I wanted to be was an 'entertainer' there are many avenues to go down. Use that if you want, saying that I'm no better than some hooker. It would be a very cheap tactic for you Roxi and to be perfectly honest, I would think you better than that.

Actually I really thought I'd be more insulted. That you would come up with something better then the whole 'heart of America' speech.

I am....

I am yawning and reaching for my Tylenol.

I Am...

Wondering why people listen to your dribble of self righteousness...and the truly horrible thing is, they eat that shit up like it's dessert.

I am...

Wondering what the fuck is wrong with the world. ...Personally I feel the world has been severely let down by you. If you want a real hero go talk to a woman dying of cancer from the chemicals she ingested because she saved people on 911. Talk to a widow about the husband she lost in Iraq and now can't even get a break to feed the children he left behind. You haven't sacrificed a damn thing, except maybe the lack of a decent wardrobe. This goes back to my other statement.

I hate it when people pretend to be something they aren't. You want to be some sacrifice for the world to fawn over. To worship your accomplishments and pat you on the head and say 'Awww, poor baby... you had to put in a little effort for a shitty title' oh fuck off... You're no Martyr.

...and best part of all...

I am...

Canadian! Yes, that's corny but it's what I got out of that whole speech. Just useless, and pretty corny words. I admire the fact that you think you're good enough to beat me. I think it's pretty hilarious that you think I'm going to pout like some child if you so happen to win. Please... wanna know the first thing I will do? I will be looking for my rematch. That's right. I have a rematch clause for every single belt I win...so I think maybe, you should spare yourself the humiliation of losing to me in a rematch by just losing to me the first time. You know that if I do lose... there will be no restraint.

You say you want the beast that prowls inside of me. You have no idea what your asking for Roxi...but because I'm such a nice person, I will give you what you want and when they interview you from your hospital room after I beat the fucking shit out of you... you will have to use sign language to tell them about how truly wretched and sad you really because you've got a tube down your throat...But you'll know that I was the one that put you there and I will look forward to YOUR retribution on me...that's when I Will see the true Roxi Johnson. Not this cheap imitation that hides behind a mask at night. You really want to impress me enough to get nasty with you then you better fucking bring more than this 'greater than thou' bullshit. I'm not taking that crappy bait...are you fucking kidding me? Be disappointed. See if I care. You said so yourself...I'm just a selfish unfeeling bitch...so why did you bother wasting your breath?

That's all it is. Bullshit. You wanna talk about grade school banter and pettiness? Wanna accuse me of that shit? Take a look in the fucking mirror you hypocritical bitch. Your fake humbleness is terrible. I can see right through that shit.

Don't tell me you don't think you're the greatest thing since slice bread because your little speech just proved it all right there. "I'm better than you...so there" more or less... four year olds have better comebacks than whatever the hell that is you tried to use against me.

You claim that I'm basically soul-less. No... no I'm not a red-head...and I am far from someone that doesn't know respect and I have a tonne of it..... for myself that is. You said that I believe the things said about you that aren't true... when really...you're doing the exact same damn thing.

You think I just simply opened my legs and I got what I wanted. That there was absolutely no work involved in acquiring this belt. If you truly felt that way then you shouldn't want it so badly...With that thinking, then all you've reduced the sin city belt to is a trophy for whoever gives the best head.

I know you could easily come back with "I'm taking it back" adding a "for the people" like some crude un-original batman villain. By the way, your 'Disturbed' reference didn't go unnoticed....ten thousand fists? Please. I shake my head at that. You say you respect me then ruin it all with saying things like that. That is precisely why I don't give into the 'hype' about you.

I will tell you what you will not do on Thursday. Beat me for starters. You won't deflate my ego. You won't reduce me to anything resembling tears. You won't get the satisfaction of saying you ended my career.

You feel the need to bring up matches I've failed at....doing that will not help you Roxi. I'm not going to reduce myself to naming off that stuff anymore because it's in the past and I fully believe in moving forward. So moving forward. I intend to hand you your ass. I'm not going to over 'hype' myself by saying I'll end your career...no because I'm not you. I don't pander myself out. When I say I'm the best damn Sin City champ there ever was or will be that is not a lie.

I'm not intimidated by you Roxi so you can keep inflating yourself with those thoughts. It's only giving you a false sense of security. I'm not wounded. Yes, I'm pretty pissed off and not because of what you've said, no I'm pissed off because your just like every other pathetic useless asshole that works here. You say the same stupid crap and fail to deliver and I'm damn tired of proving that over and over again. I'm tired of beating the crap out of people that try and stand up to me....and you know the reason why I talked about Ash last time? Because he is the real competition around here and I'm getting the shaft being pitted against trivial, no talent, wastes of my time and energy. so...in essence...people like you.

What will it take until people start to recognize it? Do I have to destroy their precious hero?

I suppose I will have to. Happy to oblige.

I am the one that will make you bleed Roxi. I'm going to make sure that you do not leave that ring empty handed...cuz you've practically begged for the best of me. The full out rage, the monster. so when you do leave that ring, you'll be leaving with that satisfaction that you got the best, what you've been screaming for since this farce began....but that is all you will get from me. You don't deserve my respect. You haven't done a damn thing to earn it. I have dealt with far more deserving people in my years in Wrestling...one way or another. I am one of the best that MPW has to offer. period.

And that Roxi, is who I am. I'm not here to 'take over the world', I'm just here to enlighten it.

I am, your ultimate nemesis, but you are far from being mine.

Now take that villain line and suck on it.

*~* August 7th, 2005 - Toronto, Canada *~*

They don't have me tied to the bed anymore. I'd managed to finally convince the doctors that I wasn't suicidal but they had a hard time believing me about the way I felt inside.

They let me off on the condition that I saw a counsellor.

She was young. Probably just graduated. She didn't look nervous at all. She had this air of superiority about her that almost made her seem snobby. She smiles at me on the bed.

Counsellor: Hello Kahlan. I'm Angelica. I'm the grief and stress counsellor here at the hospital.

Angelica? Like Angel... ironic.

Kahlan: Okay...you here to tell me that I need therapy. Sure...I get that... but I'm not crazy

Angelica: I don't think you're crazy at all. I think you just have some things you need to work through but first...you can't be cutting yourself to relieve that extra stress

I sigh. I didn't know what else to do...it had been the only thing that ever made the voices satisfied.

Angelica: What about an elastic band?

I raise and eyebrow at her.

Kahlan: What about it?

Angelica: What if we take baby steps. To wean you off the need to cut, we instead have you snap an elastic band on your wrist whenever the need to give yourself pain arises. Once you no longer feel that need to cut, we can wean you off the elastic. Like I said...baby steps.

The idea didn't seem all that bad. Sure...I didn't want to cut myself to the point of almost losing my life again so I was willing to do anything.

Kahlan: Ok...I suppose that's a start.

Angelica: Exactly. But this isn't a replacement therapy. It's just the next step to full recovery...a life where you can control that anger that you push down inside....do you understand what I mean by that?

Kahlan: You want me to be able to find other ways to release the anger. I get that too.

Angelica: Good. Then I'm going to give you my card and you can call me whenever you need to talk.

She handed it to me and then left the room.

~*~

Two days later I was out. One day after that I beat up my manager because I didn't want to tell him the reason why I took so many sick days and he just wouldn't let up about responsibility and how lying was never a good trait. I hated to be called a liar when I wasn't one. I hated when people thought they were better than me....especially when it was unjustified.

I wasn't about to go and botch anything. I was not a jobber. I was not going to just let Roxi Johnson of all people think she had any kind of leverage over me.

I had a criminal record because I didn't hold that anger inside.

That rage that lived inside me...it broke the jaw and caused stress fractures in the man's eye socket....and that was long before I had learned to live with it.

Long before I'd started a symbiotic relationship with the monster. I gave it what it needed with my matches, with my temper and I got that release that I wanted so desperately....now...If I let that monster out.... I could no longer be held accountable on a personal level. That fiend had a mind of it's own. And it didn't listen to any kind of reason or logic. It wanted one thing and one thing only.

Pain. My Pain...and most importantly, the pain of others.

Come Thursday... that monster was being unleashed on her....and I was actually...for once...looking forward to not having to hold a single delicious second of my mania back as I took it out on the first victim of my new order.

Roxi Johnson... Your judgment time is here. Prepare for your ultimate punishment.

*~* Thursday, March 7th - Hilton Anatole - Dallas, TX *~*

The bed is empty when I wake. Not surprising. A lot had been on Drake's mind lately, and he'd been sleeping very little. I'd actually been beyond surprised when he'd insisted on sharing a room. He'd been doing a lot of that kind of 'coupley' stuff lately...even though he'd never actually answered me about if we were a couple. I wanted to tell him not to worry... that if he set his mind to it he'd win the World Title, even if in the back of my mind I was thinking about how much I coveted it myself. When the time ever came when I'd have to face him for it then we'd talk about it. It would be one hell of a match that's for damn sure...but no sense worrying about things like that right now. I had my own title defence to think about.

I get up, throwing on my underwear and a t-shirt, and only realizing after looking in the mirror while brushing my teeth that it was actually Drake's. No wonder it went to my knees. I smirked. After rinsing my mouth out I bring the material up to my nose and inhale deeply. Yup. This was for sure the most infatuated with a man I'd ever been. I had honestly thought this would never happen. It scared me a touch because if I could find myself actually caring about someone other than myself then it might leave me open to other suggestions I was dead set again....like children. God help me.

Speaking of children I was looking forward to my trip to New York to see my new niece and nephew. They were already two weeks old and all I'd seen were pictures of their cute little smooshed faces. Peter had warned me that when I got there I was probably going to fall in love and want my own. I doubted it would go that far.

When I exit the bathroom, Drake is sitting on the bed, waiting for me with that little knowing smile of his.

Bliss: Waiting for me where you?

He takes stock of my appearance and the oversized t-shirt. His smile goes wider.

Drake: I think I like you wearing my clothes...it's almost like a brand.

I laugh. Branding... now there was a concept. I add an eye roll for effect.

Bliss: What were you doing up so early anyway?

Drake: Did you miss me or something... Your going soft on me Goddess...

This time I laugh louder. How many times had I said that to him?

Bliss: If I'm going soft my Dark Knight then I'm only following your lead.

He gets up quickly and pulls me into his arms, lowering his face into my neck and audibly breathing deeply.

Bliss: You didn't answer my question.

Drake: Making arrangements. Meetings... you know... of my disciples right?

Damn him for paying that much attention to my promos. I couldn't remember how many times I'd accused, Chris, Dixon and Kuk of being mindless zombies to his cause. A cause that was starting to make more sense admittedly.

Bliss: Stalker.

He laughs.

My phone suddenly goes off and he sighs deeply.

I back away and find it, checking the text message. My brow furrows.

Drake: It's her isn't it? Why did she come out here for?

Bliss: Jealous much?

Drake: Of course not. I have nothing to be jealous of. You know how I feel about that little shit disturber.

I raise an eyebrow.

Bliss: A little Kettle Black there aren't you?

He rolls his eyes at me.

Drake: What does she want?

Bliss: To tell me that she's here and that she's in a much cheaper hotel about 30 minutes from here.

Drake: Good. She doesn't want to see you before the show does she?

Bliss: No. But I got her a front row seat.

Drake gets a devious smile on his face.

Drake: Good.

Bliss: Remember the deal Drake... you don't lay a finger on her.

He holds up his hands.

Drake: Of course. I will not touch her.

He comes over, takes the phone form my hand and puts it on the dresser behind me.

Drake: You know what I want to do to you right now... but the guys are ready and we can't let you chicken out.

Bliss: I'm not chickening out of anything. I said I would sit through it and I will.

Drake: You better put on something decent. I'm the only one that gets to feast my eyes on all of your lovely flesh. Wouldn't want any competition now would we?

Bliss: As if. They'd have a lot to live up to you... any of them...

He winks at me, kisses me and gives my butt a squeeze all before leaving the bedroom and closing the door. I get dressed quickly in a tank top and jeans. I could do this. I could try and be a part of his world even if it was just hanging out with his friends and being...*gulp* nice for a couple hours. It wasn't really a hard sacrifice, it only seemed that way to me.

I come out and four sets of eyes look up at me.

Chris Cable: Hi Kahlan....

He seems a little awkward...and the tension is high. I try and avoid making eye contact with Kuk. I did still have a score to settle with him, but today, today this was neutral ground and we all had white flags. Who would have thought me.... sitting down with the AoA amicably... twilight zone or what.

Chris Cable: Ready?

I take a deep breath. Both feet. No looking back.

Bliss: Yup. Let's do this.

I move over to sit beside him and he opens up a little tool box.

Thursday would reveal a great many things but the thing that was no secret was the destruction I was going to bring. Not just the destruction of Roxi's insane thinking that she 'had' me on this but the destruction of what people thought they saw when they looked at me.

Thursday will be my day of reckoning. When the true face of Bliss is revealed