Post by Alexandra Calaway on Sept 10, 2024 20:01:53 GMT -5
Hired Gun
Alexandra’s blog
Dallas, Texas
Life isn’t always what you planned for it to be. You strive for perfection, you can make it to the pinnacle and fall just as quickly as you rose. It’s not about winning and losing, it’s about making an impact on the legacy you are building, something you can be proud of when your time on this earth is through. The real question is, just what are you willing to sacrifice to get there.
So Britlyn asked me to make a return, approaching me with a new contract. I could pick up where I left off, her hired assassin, her weapon in the ring. While normally that wasn’t my shtick for some reason when Britlyn asked it was hard to say no. When I was just about ready to leave the industry before, she was the one who came and asked me to help her company rise from the ashes it had been in. I agreed to a small contract and stayed until that obligation was done. Once I finished the task, I was done. But now, she’s pulled me back in, this time offering me a chance to get revenge on the one who had betrayed me.
So where does this leave the hero of our tale? Well of course I’m not going to pass up the chance to help Britlyn, she’s been there when no one else was. But that’s a story for another time. Right now, my focus is getting to Donnie Harris and taking what was always mine to have. What happened last week, that was only the start. I expect Donnie Harris to exact his revenge. Then it will be a back and forth game until Britlyn allows the two of us to tear each other apart in the ring.
I feel for JMONT though, he was just caught in the crosshairs of a war he had no real part in. That’s on me. But I had to make a statement, I lured Donnie into a false sense of security and just like every pretty little predator on the planet, I struck when the time was right. At least I didn’t drag it out for weeks and make him believe that I needed him. I struck him down and I’m so sorry it took both JMONT being knocked out too in order for me to finish the job. In the grandeur scheme of things, we all know JMONT never would have let me strike down his little opponent without taking him out first.
Now Britlyn has me facing off against Shawn Savage, a man who seems to be quite well interesting to say the very least. I’ve been looking in on some of his past matches, but.. We will get into that later. For now, keep your eyes on the screen and buckle in. It's going to be a wild ride.Let’s just hope everyone’s ready for what I’ve got planned for the EPW Roster. See you all at Danger!
It’s sure to be a god damned bloody horror show.
XOXO,
Alexandra Calaway
Get the Fuck up
Calaway Estate
Dallas, Texas.
Alexandra and Mika had started training in the ring early in the morning. Alexandra needed to get out of her own head. There was a lot coming down around her and in a way, it seemed to everyone around her that she had been holding back for far too long. Mika most of all noticed it. She could see exactly what was going on. The two circled each other in the ring and focused their gaze on each other.
“Don’t go easy on me.. We do this. Until we both cannot stand.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s face it, they won't either.”
Mika smirked, eyes gleaming with something dark and unhinged as she cracked her neck.
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, Alexandra.” Her tone dripped with menace, her posture feral, ready to strike. She lunged forward, her fists coming up fast, almost like a predator toying with prey. “We’re not walking out of here until I’ve beaten the doubt out of you—or you rip it out of me.”
Her voice dropped low and dangerous, her tongue flicking across her lips. “I like it when we can’t stand up.”
Alexandra caught her hands, gripping them and spinning her away. “You and I both know it’s going to take more than that.” She shoved her away, into the ropes and took a stance. “I mean, if that’s how you want to play this, then we can play.” She spoke knowing that when either JMONT or Donnie got their hands on her, they wouldn’t play nice either. “Hell this guy I have this week, I know he won't play either. I want to be ready.”
Mika was the one person who wouldn’t hold back or try to handle her with kid’s gloves. She would tear her apart. Mika bounced off the ropes, her body springing forward with a fluidity that only came from years of honing her craft. She grinned like a predator sensing blood in the water, her eyes narrowing on Alexandra with an intensity that would make most flinch. But not Alexandra. She stood firm, her feet planted, her mind locked in, her breath steady.
"Playing?" Mika scoffed as she twisted her body mid-stride, launching a sharp kick aimed at Alexandra's ribs. "This ain't playtime, darling."
Alexandra barely shifted, catching Mika’s leg with a grunt and twisting it. But Mika was quick, dropping to the mat and using the momentum to slide out of Alexandra’s grasp. She spun back to her feet with a catlike grace, almost bouncing with the thrill of the fight. The heat in the ring was rising, the sweat already slicking their bodies as the adrenaline kicked in.
“You think they’ll be this predictable?” Alexandra asked, her voice low, strained as she wiped sweat from her brow, her muscles coiling in anticipation. “We’ve seen them fight. They don’t give a damn about rules.”
“They’re animals.” Mika's laugh was sharp, biting. “But so are we.”
She lunged again, but this time, Alexandra was ready. Their movements were a blur—a clash of fists, forearms, and legs as they blocked, struck, and countered with brutal efficiency. Every punch, every kick had weight behind it. Neither held back. There was no room for weakness here, no time for second-guessing. Mika’s strikes came at her like a storm, relentless and wild, while Alexandra fought with precision, control—until Mika slipped through. A punch grazed Alexandra’s jaw, the sting reverberating through her. Mika followed it up with a knee to her side, but Alexandra spun, catching Mika by the shoulders and throwing her hard into the corner post.
Mika hit the turnbuckle with a grunt but straightened almost instantly, a wild grin splitting her face. “You’re waking up now, aren’t you?”
“I don’t have a choice.” Alexandra’s voice was steel. She closed the distance between them in two long strides, her body moving on instinct, delivering a hard elbow to Mika’s midsection, forcing the air out of her.
Mika gasped but latched onto Alexandra’s arm, pulling her in close, refusing to let her create space. “Exactly. And when it comes down to it, neither will they.”
They grappled, locked together in a vicious dance, their muscles straining against each other. Mika’s breath was hot against Alexandra’s ear as she hissed, “This is what you need. To stop thinking. To just fight.”
Alexandra growled, wrenching Mika's grip loose with a savage twist and throwing her to the ground. She stood over her, chest heaving, eyes burning with something feral. Mika, still smiling even with the pain evident in her eyes, slowly climbed back to her feet.
“This is the Alexandra they’re not ready for,” Mika said, wiping the blood from her split lip. “The one you’ve been burying.”
Alexandra’s fists tightened, knuckles white. She felt it—the fire, the anger, the fight clawing its way to the surface. It had always been there, simmering beneath the calm exterior she tried so hard to maintain. But with Mika, there was no hiding. No pretending.
“I’ll do what I have to,” Alexandra finally said, her voice low but certain. “But I won’t lose myself.”
Mika laughed, dark and sharp. “No, you won’t. But you’ll lose everything if you hold back.”
Without warning, Mika exploded forward again, her speed catching Alexandra off-guard. This time, she didn’t hold back either. They collided like a force of nature—punches landed, bones bruised, breath ragged. Neither spoke, neither needed to. This was their language, their way of pushing each other to the limit. The hits kept coming, and with each one, Alexandra could feel something inside her breaking loose, some barrier she'd been too afraid to shatter. Mika's aggression was liberating, her ferocity a challenge Alexandra had been craving but never allowed herself to fully embrace. As they neared exhaustion, sweat dripping, bodies aching, Mika threw one last wild punch. Alexandra ducked and spun, catching Mika with a hard strike to her ribs that sent her sprawling onto the mat. For a moment, everything stilled. Both women stayed there, breathless, gazing at each other with a mutual understanding. This wasn’t about winning. It wasn’t about who could stay standing the longest. It was about survival. About being ready for what was coming next.
Mika’s voice came out in a low rasp, broken but determined. “This is who you are, Alexandra. Don’t let them make you forget it.”
Alexandra, standing over her friend, fists still clenched, nodded once. “I won’t.”
Carousel
Fair Park
Dallas, Texas
A camera came up on Alexandra, who was standing in the middle of a fairground. When the camera pans out a bit, you can see it’s Fair Park in Dallas, Texas. She’s walking past the rides, a smile on her face. The camera pans back in on her and she starts to speak.
“Shawn Savage..” She gives a soft little chuckle. “Let me formally introduce myself. I’m Alexandra Calaway, a veteran of this industry. I take on any challenger that comes my way. Britlyn see’s that, she knows that I am more than capable of standing up to whoever stands across the ring from me.”
Alexandra stops in front of a battered old food truck with peeling paint and flickering lights. She tilts her head slightly, eyeing the camera with a smirk. The crowd noise hums in the background, adding an eerie ambiance to her words.
"But you, Shawn Savage," she continues, her tone hardening, "you’ve taken on the name Trailer Park Messiah like it's some kind of badge of honor, like being a king of the gutter means anything in my world. You think dragging people into your filth makes you powerful? No, Shawn, it just makes you desperate."
She walks a few paces toward a nearby ride, the creaking metal almost mirroring her footsteps. Alexandra pauses, letting the tension build, before turning back to the camera with fierce intensity in her eyes.
"This isn’t just a match, Shawn. This is a dumpster match, and the only place fitting for you is right where you belong—among the trash, where you crawled out from." Her voice is razor sharp now, filled with venom and conviction. "You think you’re the Trailer Park Messiah? Well, when I’m done with you, you won’t be rising from anything. You’ll be buried in the stench of your own arrogance."
Alexandra steps closer to the camera, her face now inches away from the lens. The smile fades, replaced by cold determination. Alexandra stops in front of the dumpster, the camera now focusing on the filthy, rusted container. She places her hand on the edge of it, staring down into its depths with a look of disgust. Slowly, she turns back to the camera, her voice lowering but filled with a menacing calm.
"Look at this, Shawn. This is your kingdom. A throne of rusted metal, stained with the stench of broken dreams, desperation, and filth. You want to call yourself the Trailer Park Messiah? Well, let’s get something straight. In this industry, you don’t save anyone. You don't lift people up. You drag them down with you, into the muck and the grime, like a rat scurrying through the wreckage of a life you could never control. And guys like you, they never get the girl."
She steps up to the camera, eyes burning with intensity, her smile curling into something almost sinister.
"But me? I’m no rat. I’m the storm that sweeps through the trailer park, the hurricane that leaves nothing standing in its path. You won’t ascend to greatness in this match, Savage. No, you’ll be lucky if you crawl out of this alive. Because when we step into that ring, it won’t be a sanctuary, it’ll be a slaughterhouse. And I promise you, the last place you’ll see is this dumpster—your sacred altar—where I’ll throw you like the piece of trash you are."
She paces now, the camera following her every move. The atmosphere grows darker as she moves further away from the lights of the fairground rides. The fun, carefree energy of the setting has drained, replaced by a foreboding tension as Alexandra’s voice grows louder, more commanding.
"You want to preach, to call yourself a messiah? Well, let me remind you what happened to the last so-called messiah—they hung him up to bleed, and I’ll do the same to you! I’m going to rip that cocky smile off your face and shove it down your throat. When I’m done with you, the only thing you'll be worshipping is the pain I leave you in."
She stops, looking directly into the lens, her voice dropping to a lethal whisper.
"You wanted to make this personal, Savage? You wanted to turn this into a war? Fine. I’ll give you war. But let me make one thing clear: I don’t just fight to win. I fight to end people ask Donnie Harris. And in that dumpster match, I’m not just going to defeat you... I’m going to destroy you."
Alexandra’s eyes narrow, her face inches from the camera now. "This isn’t just a match, Shawn. It’s your final sermon. And when the bell rings, and you’re lying broken at my feet, remember this—you chose this. You begged for this. Now, you’ll pay for it."
WThe camera lingers on the dumpster once more, it goes back to Alexandra and the promise of her violent retribution.
"You’ve been warned, Shawn. Keep playing with the garbage. I’ll be the one to take it out. Because this isn't just a fight… this is your judgment. And when I’m through, the Trailer Park Messiah will be nothing more than yesterday’s trash."
She turns and walks away, her figure fading into the night as the camera lingers on the rusted dumpster behind her, the perfect symbol of the impending chaos. The scene fades to black.
Alexandra’s blog
Dallas, Texas
Life isn’t always what you planned for it to be. You strive for perfection, you can make it to the pinnacle and fall just as quickly as you rose. It’s not about winning and losing, it’s about making an impact on the legacy you are building, something you can be proud of when your time on this earth is through. The real question is, just what are you willing to sacrifice to get there.
So Britlyn asked me to make a return, approaching me with a new contract. I could pick up where I left off, her hired assassin, her weapon in the ring. While normally that wasn’t my shtick for some reason when Britlyn asked it was hard to say no. When I was just about ready to leave the industry before, she was the one who came and asked me to help her company rise from the ashes it had been in. I agreed to a small contract and stayed until that obligation was done. Once I finished the task, I was done. But now, she’s pulled me back in, this time offering me a chance to get revenge on the one who had betrayed me.
So where does this leave the hero of our tale? Well of course I’m not going to pass up the chance to help Britlyn, she’s been there when no one else was. But that’s a story for another time. Right now, my focus is getting to Donnie Harris and taking what was always mine to have. What happened last week, that was only the start. I expect Donnie Harris to exact his revenge. Then it will be a back and forth game until Britlyn allows the two of us to tear each other apart in the ring.
I feel for JMONT though, he was just caught in the crosshairs of a war he had no real part in. That’s on me. But I had to make a statement, I lured Donnie into a false sense of security and just like every pretty little predator on the planet, I struck when the time was right. At least I didn’t drag it out for weeks and make him believe that I needed him. I struck him down and I’m so sorry it took both JMONT being knocked out too in order for me to finish the job. In the grandeur scheme of things, we all know JMONT never would have let me strike down his little opponent without taking him out first.
Now Britlyn has me facing off against Shawn Savage, a man who seems to be quite well interesting to say the very least. I’ve been looking in on some of his past matches, but.. We will get into that later. For now, keep your eyes on the screen and buckle in. It's going to be a wild ride.Let’s just hope everyone’s ready for what I’ve got planned for the EPW Roster. See you all at Danger!
It’s sure to be a god damned bloody horror show.
XOXO,
Alexandra Calaway
Get the Fuck up
Calaway Estate
Dallas, Texas.
Alexandra and Mika had started training in the ring early in the morning. Alexandra needed to get out of her own head. There was a lot coming down around her and in a way, it seemed to everyone around her that she had been holding back for far too long. Mika most of all noticed it. She could see exactly what was going on. The two circled each other in the ring and focused their gaze on each other.
“Don’t go easy on me.. We do this. Until we both cannot stand.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s face it, they won't either.”
Mika smirked, eyes gleaming with something dark and unhinged as she cracked her neck.
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, Alexandra.” Her tone dripped with menace, her posture feral, ready to strike. She lunged forward, her fists coming up fast, almost like a predator toying with prey. “We’re not walking out of here until I’ve beaten the doubt out of you—or you rip it out of me.”
Her voice dropped low and dangerous, her tongue flicking across her lips. “I like it when we can’t stand up.”
Alexandra caught her hands, gripping them and spinning her away. “You and I both know it’s going to take more than that.” She shoved her away, into the ropes and took a stance. “I mean, if that’s how you want to play this, then we can play.” She spoke knowing that when either JMONT or Donnie got their hands on her, they wouldn’t play nice either. “Hell this guy I have this week, I know he won't play either. I want to be ready.”
Mika was the one person who wouldn’t hold back or try to handle her with kid’s gloves. She would tear her apart. Mika bounced off the ropes, her body springing forward with a fluidity that only came from years of honing her craft. She grinned like a predator sensing blood in the water, her eyes narrowing on Alexandra with an intensity that would make most flinch. But not Alexandra. She stood firm, her feet planted, her mind locked in, her breath steady.
"Playing?" Mika scoffed as she twisted her body mid-stride, launching a sharp kick aimed at Alexandra's ribs. "This ain't playtime, darling."
Alexandra barely shifted, catching Mika’s leg with a grunt and twisting it. But Mika was quick, dropping to the mat and using the momentum to slide out of Alexandra’s grasp. She spun back to her feet with a catlike grace, almost bouncing with the thrill of the fight. The heat in the ring was rising, the sweat already slicking their bodies as the adrenaline kicked in.
“You think they’ll be this predictable?” Alexandra asked, her voice low, strained as she wiped sweat from her brow, her muscles coiling in anticipation. “We’ve seen them fight. They don’t give a damn about rules.”
“They’re animals.” Mika's laugh was sharp, biting. “But so are we.”
She lunged again, but this time, Alexandra was ready. Their movements were a blur—a clash of fists, forearms, and legs as they blocked, struck, and countered with brutal efficiency. Every punch, every kick had weight behind it. Neither held back. There was no room for weakness here, no time for second-guessing. Mika’s strikes came at her like a storm, relentless and wild, while Alexandra fought with precision, control—until Mika slipped through. A punch grazed Alexandra’s jaw, the sting reverberating through her. Mika followed it up with a knee to her side, but Alexandra spun, catching Mika by the shoulders and throwing her hard into the corner post.
Mika hit the turnbuckle with a grunt but straightened almost instantly, a wild grin splitting her face. “You’re waking up now, aren’t you?”
“I don’t have a choice.” Alexandra’s voice was steel. She closed the distance between them in two long strides, her body moving on instinct, delivering a hard elbow to Mika’s midsection, forcing the air out of her.
Mika gasped but latched onto Alexandra’s arm, pulling her in close, refusing to let her create space. “Exactly. And when it comes down to it, neither will they.”
They grappled, locked together in a vicious dance, their muscles straining against each other. Mika’s breath was hot against Alexandra’s ear as she hissed, “This is what you need. To stop thinking. To just fight.”
Alexandra growled, wrenching Mika's grip loose with a savage twist and throwing her to the ground. She stood over her, chest heaving, eyes burning with something feral. Mika, still smiling even with the pain evident in her eyes, slowly climbed back to her feet.
“This is the Alexandra they’re not ready for,” Mika said, wiping the blood from her split lip. “The one you’ve been burying.”
Alexandra’s fists tightened, knuckles white. She felt it—the fire, the anger, the fight clawing its way to the surface. It had always been there, simmering beneath the calm exterior she tried so hard to maintain. But with Mika, there was no hiding. No pretending.
“I’ll do what I have to,” Alexandra finally said, her voice low but certain. “But I won’t lose myself.”
Mika laughed, dark and sharp. “No, you won’t. But you’ll lose everything if you hold back.”
Without warning, Mika exploded forward again, her speed catching Alexandra off-guard. This time, she didn’t hold back either. They collided like a force of nature—punches landed, bones bruised, breath ragged. Neither spoke, neither needed to. This was their language, their way of pushing each other to the limit. The hits kept coming, and with each one, Alexandra could feel something inside her breaking loose, some barrier she'd been too afraid to shatter. Mika's aggression was liberating, her ferocity a challenge Alexandra had been craving but never allowed herself to fully embrace. As they neared exhaustion, sweat dripping, bodies aching, Mika threw one last wild punch. Alexandra ducked and spun, catching Mika with a hard strike to her ribs that sent her sprawling onto the mat. For a moment, everything stilled. Both women stayed there, breathless, gazing at each other with a mutual understanding. This wasn’t about winning. It wasn’t about who could stay standing the longest. It was about survival. About being ready for what was coming next.
Mika’s voice came out in a low rasp, broken but determined. “This is who you are, Alexandra. Don’t let them make you forget it.”
Alexandra, standing over her friend, fists still clenched, nodded once. “I won’t.”
Carousel
Fair Park
Dallas, Texas
A camera came up on Alexandra, who was standing in the middle of a fairground. When the camera pans out a bit, you can see it’s Fair Park in Dallas, Texas. She’s walking past the rides, a smile on her face. The camera pans back in on her and she starts to speak.
“Shawn Savage..” She gives a soft little chuckle. “Let me formally introduce myself. I’m Alexandra Calaway, a veteran of this industry. I take on any challenger that comes my way. Britlyn see’s that, she knows that I am more than capable of standing up to whoever stands across the ring from me.”
Alexandra stops in front of a battered old food truck with peeling paint and flickering lights. She tilts her head slightly, eyeing the camera with a smirk. The crowd noise hums in the background, adding an eerie ambiance to her words.
"But you, Shawn Savage," she continues, her tone hardening, "you’ve taken on the name Trailer Park Messiah like it's some kind of badge of honor, like being a king of the gutter means anything in my world. You think dragging people into your filth makes you powerful? No, Shawn, it just makes you desperate."
She walks a few paces toward a nearby ride, the creaking metal almost mirroring her footsteps. Alexandra pauses, letting the tension build, before turning back to the camera with fierce intensity in her eyes.
"This isn’t just a match, Shawn. This is a dumpster match, and the only place fitting for you is right where you belong—among the trash, where you crawled out from." Her voice is razor sharp now, filled with venom and conviction. "You think you’re the Trailer Park Messiah? Well, when I’m done with you, you won’t be rising from anything. You’ll be buried in the stench of your own arrogance."
Alexandra steps closer to the camera, her face now inches away from the lens. The smile fades, replaced by cold determination. Alexandra stops in front of the dumpster, the camera now focusing on the filthy, rusted container. She places her hand on the edge of it, staring down into its depths with a look of disgust. Slowly, she turns back to the camera, her voice lowering but filled with a menacing calm.
"Look at this, Shawn. This is your kingdom. A throne of rusted metal, stained with the stench of broken dreams, desperation, and filth. You want to call yourself the Trailer Park Messiah? Well, let’s get something straight. In this industry, you don’t save anyone. You don't lift people up. You drag them down with you, into the muck and the grime, like a rat scurrying through the wreckage of a life you could never control. And guys like you, they never get the girl."
She steps up to the camera, eyes burning with intensity, her smile curling into something almost sinister.
"But me? I’m no rat. I’m the storm that sweeps through the trailer park, the hurricane that leaves nothing standing in its path. You won’t ascend to greatness in this match, Savage. No, you’ll be lucky if you crawl out of this alive. Because when we step into that ring, it won’t be a sanctuary, it’ll be a slaughterhouse. And I promise you, the last place you’ll see is this dumpster—your sacred altar—where I’ll throw you like the piece of trash you are."
She paces now, the camera following her every move. The atmosphere grows darker as she moves further away from the lights of the fairground rides. The fun, carefree energy of the setting has drained, replaced by a foreboding tension as Alexandra’s voice grows louder, more commanding.
"You want to preach, to call yourself a messiah? Well, let me remind you what happened to the last so-called messiah—they hung him up to bleed, and I’ll do the same to you! I’m going to rip that cocky smile off your face and shove it down your throat. When I’m done with you, the only thing you'll be worshipping is the pain I leave you in."
She stops, looking directly into the lens, her voice dropping to a lethal whisper.
"You wanted to make this personal, Savage? You wanted to turn this into a war? Fine. I’ll give you war. But let me make one thing clear: I don’t just fight to win. I fight to end people ask Donnie Harris. And in that dumpster match, I’m not just going to defeat you... I’m going to destroy you."
Alexandra’s eyes narrow, her face inches from the camera now. "This isn’t just a match, Shawn. It’s your final sermon. And when the bell rings, and you’re lying broken at my feet, remember this—you chose this. You begged for this. Now, you’ll pay for it."
WThe camera lingers on the dumpster once more, it goes back to Alexandra and the promise of her violent retribution.
"You’ve been warned, Shawn. Keep playing with the garbage. I’ll be the one to take it out. Because this isn't just a fight… this is your judgment. And when I’m through, the Trailer Park Messiah will be nothing more than yesterday’s trash."
She turns and walks away, her figure fading into the night as the camera lingers on the rusted dumpster behind her, the perfect symbol of the impending chaos. The scene fades to black.