This week, on The Prophet...
Jun 21, 2021 12:42:50 GMT -5
Miss Michelle, krapp420, and 2 more like this
Post by Deleted on Jun 21, 2021 12:42:50 GMT -5
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The following scenes will make use of foul language, rape, gore, sex, drugs, rock and roll, and adult themes.
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The writer reserves the right to utilize the aforementioned techniques to further a storyline.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
đYou Have Been Warned.đ
The theme music played; The Prophetâs Song by Queen.
âAh-ah, people of the earth
"Listen to the warning, " the seer he said
For those who hear and mark my words
Listen to the good plan
Ah-ah-ah-ah
And two by two, my human zoo
They'll be running for to come
Running for to come out of the rain
Oh, flee for your life
Who heed me not let all your treasure make you
Oh, fear for your life
Deceive you not, the fires of hell will take you
Should death await youâ
Clips of previous episodes spun by; Dru getting out of prison, Dru falling in love, the soul-crushing loss of MeowlMir, a flourish of scenes. People coming and people going. Smiles. Tears. Screams. Everything that has happened until now.
Clip 1:
Walking down âFreedom Laneâ as she exited the prison, the sun beat down on her, she dug through her mesh bag for her sunglasses. It had been 5 years since she last took a breath of fresh air, without prison bars in her view. She looked out over the dull expanse, seeing Robi and her bike, waiting for her. She grinned, but that smile faded when she remembered what she was wearing. She would never, ever live this one down. The expression on the waiting Robiâs face was that of quizzical amusement and disbelief. Her best friend was walking towards her, dressed in the latest, finest of grunge wear. Dru slipped on a thick, black pair of Ray Bans and scowled a bit.
âDonât even look at me.â
The woman strode faster to her friend, not wishing to discuss the ensemble. Yet, it beared a discussion. Jnco jeans 36â Rhinos, a black camisole under a lime green mesh sleeved top, that black leather hooded coat and an old, ratty pair of black Van sneakers, hidden beneath a mountain of that denim fabric.
Clip 2:
âIâll be⊠Iâll be fine, MeowlMir⊠let go. I donât want you hurting, little girl⊠let goâŠâ
Over and over, like a spell, she whispered to MeowlMir.
Her beloved's ears were jaundiced. Her gums were white. The poor girl was broken, and felt disturbingly light. MeowlMir, clinging for dear life to Dru, dug her claws into her flesh. She wasnât ready to go⊠but her heart began to slow. Her breathing turned to agonal breathing. Her body had not yet processed the cessation of a heartbeat. Her now seemingly small frame, limp and heavy in Druâs arms, slowly stopped moving. The agonal breathing decreased like a slow decrescendo from a concerto. The brain was dying, processing slowly the neurons ceasing to fire. MeowlMir, as they knew her, was gone.
Flashes of her matches.
Victories in Fade2Black.
Losses.
Victories in Outlaw Pro.
Losses.
Training montages.
But soon, the credits began to roll. Reminding you, the fans, of what had happened before and who each character was.
As each name played across the screen, their image corresponded. But itâs Dru who took center stage. Growing up before your eyes. From age 15, when she walked away from her family and their abuse, to now, as she stood on the precipice of victory.
Starring;
Robi Mitchell as âThe Brainâ
Roscoe Valentine as âThe Steadfastâ
Priscilla Wynn as âThe Princessâ
Druscilla White as âThe Criminalâ
Zion Valentine âThe Basket Caseâ
Diesel White as âThe Athleteâ
Cela White as âThe Guiding Lightâ
Guest Starring;
Vhodka Marie as âThe Nacho Cheese Girlâ
Brandon Moore as âAnubisâ
Previously on
The ProphetâŠ
Last season was a whirlwind! A tizzy of emotions. Betrayals. A wedding. A loss. An annulment. A new friend. A flirtatious gesture. A death. A decision.
A brand new career blossoming for our heroine, in the arena with OPW and the crew, sheâs begun to spread her wings. We watched her rise and fall only to rise again. She won a shot at any title OPW had to offer, save the immortal title. What will she do, with OPWâs doors possibly closing, leaving her out on the curb just like F2B? Will she continue to fight? Or will she buckle?
Our heroine. Druscilla. Has so much more to offer. So much more to prove. Can she overcome this loss, should OPW close their doors? Is there more in store for the Outlaws of OPW? Do they have one final card up their sleeves?
It all has led to this.
One choice.
A single pivot in time.
---- State Farm Arena ----
---- Atlanta, Georgia ----
---- ON CAMERA ----
MOONCRAFT PRAYER!!
ONE!
TWO!!
THREE!!!
[ Royal Powerhouse ]: And here is your winner, DRUSCILLA âTHE PROPHETâ WHITE!!! BROTHERRRRRR!!!!!
Further down the hall, her ring boots smacking the ground, her heart still thudded hard in her chest she couldnât hear the footfalls behind her. She walked past Vhodkaâs dressing room and popped her head in, winking to her friend as she stole a bag of Nacho cheese doritos from Vhodkaâs table. She blew her a kiss.
âYou. Me. Lunch sometime next week, yeah?â
The two women laughed briefly before Dru headed into her own dressing room. With Roscoe shutting the door behind her. She gasped, wrapping her arms around him. He threw the lock and smiled.
âââ OFF CAMERA âââ
She hugged him tighter, so much smaller than he. She fit in his arms. He picked her up, hugged her and laughed softly.
Roscoe - âGreat match, babe. You were amazing out there.â
She blushed, her pale white skin flushing a soft pink. Her head rested beneath his chin. Dru still had the feeling of failure, but Roscoe always made her feel different. Ever since they were kids. The four of them had been inseparable for years, until Druâs family began to change. Starting with her mother banning her from hanging out with the Valentine twins. Just her. Not Diesel. Diesel had always been given his own freedom. But Roscoe knew why.
â... How did you get here? I thought Z had you running errands?â
He laughed, setting Dru back on her feet, kissing her forehead.
Roscoe - âYou really think I wouldnât skip out on her? To see you? Come on Dru.â
He chortled, grabbing Druâs towel and wiping the sweat from her face. She did look beautiful. She swatted him. She was still amped on adrenalin from the match. She thought, for a moment, sheâd take a loss, but something shifted the balance.
Was it Roscoe? Was it fate? Was it Druâs prowess?
âSheâs going to kill both of us now.â
She giggled, sitting on the bench, untying her ring boots. Plopping them on the ground, she yanked her tank top off, throwing it towards her duffel bag. Roscoe turned around. Blushing himself now. She rolled her eyes. A small cut was visible on her browline. She hissed softly as she dabbed at it with her fingers. Small amount of blood. Perfect.
âJesus Roscoe, as if we havenât seen one another naked before.â
She tossed her pants into her duffel bag now.
Roscoe - âI mean Come on Dru! We were kids!â
Dru grinned, leaned against him, not fully nude but in her skivvies.
âYeah, and when we were 15, what did we do then?â
She was evil! He tensed. Took a deep breath and turned to look at her. She was right. They had been intimate before, years ago.... Then again not so many years ago. She had a few more scars and tattoos than she did before, but she was still beautiful to him.
Roscoe - âYou ass, go take a shower. I have news from Mama.â
She stopped dead in her tracks. Her breath caught in her chest.
âJust tell meâŠâ
He shook his head.
Roscoe - âI canât. Not here. Go. Shower.â
She sucked in a ragged breath and ran to the bathroom to shower. Her mind raced with what he could have to tell her. And every scenario scared the shit out of her. She winced as she stepped into the shower. Already she was sore from the match against Necra. Woman hit hard. Sheâd give her that. But in the end, Dru mowed her down.
After she had gotten out of the shower, dried her hair, styled it in her usual on the road Suicide Roll, gotten dressed and applied her makeup, it was time to confront Roscoe.
âNow, what is this about Goddamnit?â
Roscoe - âCome with me. Itâs about PriscillaâŠâ
---- Offices of Shyster, Shuester and Chuck Esq. ----
---- New Orleans, Louisiana ----
ââ On Hidden Camera ââ
Shyster - âJust sign on the line, Ms. White.â
She put pen to paper and eloquently signed her name, before looking back at the man.
âAnd youâre certain this is uncontestable in court?â
He nodded.
Shyster - âYes Maâam, your precious pets will be cared for, and ownership will be granted to Miss Lyricâ
She scowled.
âGuardianship. You own property, you take care of and guard children or animals. My cats are not property.â
He cleared his throat, nodding his head.
Shyster - âYes Maâam, youâre right. Guardianship. I am sorry. They will only be required to sit in holding for 24 hours from the time we are notified of your⊠untimely passing.â
He adjusted his tie, this woman made him nervous. Terribly nervous. The beads of sweat became obvious as Dru pressed the matter further. She handed him the currently signed papers and he shifted uneasily in his chair, sliding yet another pile of papers her way.
Shyster - âAnd the next section, per your request, leaves the Japan apartment to young Miss Hadlee and Miss Shanna.... The Dodge RedEye Hellcat Hearse⊠*He cleared his throat again* to miss⊠Widow? That canât be her legal name?..... Oh. Ophelia. Yes. I see it now.â
Dru took the papers, flipping through them, to ensure what she had requested was indeed present. As she nodded, she once more signed on the line, side eyeing Shysterâs current partner, Shuester. A brow arched.
âExcuse me? Why are you here?â
He stuttered a bit before Shyster stepped in, protecting the firm's other named partner.
Shyster - âMiss White⊠he is the man handling the trust funds for your.. Niece and nephew.â
Her head raised, slightly, acknowledging that statement. She held her hand out to him, waggling two fingers at him. Demanding the paperwork.
âNow Shuester.â
She growled, her time was precious.
Shuester - âY..yes maâam. The trusts you requested. $300 million each⊠named for the aforementioned twins..â
âFrom the Cayman accounts?â
He nodded, shivering slightly.
âGood. These also contain the accruing interest?â
He stumbled for his wordsâŠ
Shuester - âYes.. maâam now that is the⊠hard part. Normally trust funds do not accrue interest.. But⊠for you?â
He turned the page to page 5 and pointed to paragraph 3.
Shuester - âBoth accounts have an additional $500 thousand, courtesy of our firm, set aside as an interest bearing CD. It will gain infinitely as it cannot be cashed out, however, the interest accrued will be placed within the main trust, allowing them access upon turning 18.â
She nodded, making sure her niece and nephew were taken care of, should the unthinkable happen. She handed him back the paperwork, looking once more at Shyster.
âNow you. Finalizing my Will and the change of hands of my business.â
He swallowed hard as Shuester scurried from the office faster than the speed of stupid. He slid a very thick file her way.
On the first page, it was Druâs last will and testament. Leaving Robi Mitchell the beneficiary of her assets. The New Orleans property, her bank accounts, her gun cache⊠even the warehouse downtown. Citing what she wished to happen, should her body be found. Cremated and spread within her beloved Bayou. Dru signed below Robiâs name, sighing softly. This hurt. Knowing in advance she might be leaving her loved ones behind⊠but given the game afoot, she knew the possibility one or all of them may not return home.
âAnd what about the executorship of my will, and custody of my daughter?â
Shyster - âItâs in there Miss White⊠I assure you.â
She flipped through the pages, detailing what Diesel was instructed to do, as executor, what to destroy, who to disperse other items to, which accounts were his and Celaâs, then she sighed heavily. There it was.
âI, Druscilla Anne White, do hereby grant guardianship of my only daughter, Priscilla Ophelia Wynn, to Robi Mitchell, upon my death.â
She signed the papers and touched Priscillaâs name softly. They had to find her. They had to make sure she was safe and that no one would harm her ever again. And Dru knew, if she was unable to protect her anymore, Robi would. Hell, all of the Wolves would help her. Ensure her future and make damned sure Priscilla did not make the same mistakes Dru did in her life.
Shyster - âMiss White⊠do excuse my forwardness, but, are you sure you wish to sign over your business?â
Her eyes, weeping softly, shot back to the lawyer across from her. She growled.
âDo not ever assume I do not know what I am doing, Shyster. I pay you. Remember? You work for me. Until I am dead, and then you work for them.â
She pointed at the heavy stacks of papers she has been signing for the past several hours. Snarling with each word.
Shyster - âYes Miss White, I do apologize.â
She grabbed the next stack from his hands, taking a deep breath. This signed the rights to DruBrew Brewery and Confections to Cela White, naming her the new owner and CEO.
Dru was not planning on coming home.
âAdd this, verbatim; Cela, you are more than just my sister-in-law, you are my sister. Like Robi, you have been the twin pillar, without whom I could not stand. You two are the pieces that made me whole. Know that I give you this with all the love in my heart. Of all of the mistakes I have made in life, I know this will be the start on the road to redemption. Itâs a long, and hazardous road, but with you and Robi shining your light; I will always find my way. I love you Cels. Take care of Diesel, he needs you now, more than ever. Kiss the babies for me?â
She wiped tears from her eyes, signing the contract relinquishing all ownership of her business. Closing the files, and sliding them back to Shyster, she looked up. A very thick envelope was removed from her suit coat and placed in Shysterâs hands.
âDo not open this. It goes from your hands to Celaâs. Period.â
He nodded, tucking the envelope with the DruBrew Brewery papers. Tapped it to show he understood.
âNow, this is done. If you donât hear from me, know, Iâve enjoyed our business together. Treat my family with the same respect youâve shown me?â
Shyster - âMiss White, good luck on your match next week.â
Dru paused for a moment, offered a smile and touched his hand gently.
âThank you Frank. I didnât know you were a fan.â
He blushed, vivid red, and stammered for a moment before he replied;
Shyster - âWell, Miss White.. we all are. Itâs not every day a star walks into our officesâŠâ
âIâll have box seats arranged for you and the boys. Howâs that sound?â
He went wide eyed, he wasnât expecting her generosity. Especially given the matters they had been discussing this morning.
Shyster - âMi-Miss White⊠I⊠â
She cut him off, waving a hand.
âNo buts. Youâve been wonderful, and itâs the least I can do. Enjoy the seats Frank. A surprise will be delivered to the office in a few days.â
Shyster - âMiss White.. I do hope you donât mind but, what are you going to do if Outlaw Pro folds?â
She took a soft breath and sighed gently.
âWell, Iâll figure something out. But having you as fans, I know anywhere I go will be home for us.â
He smiled, nodding.
âPlus, keep your head up Frank. I donât think OPW will fold, we may transform a bit but I think weâll be ok. Outlaws wouldnât let this place fall. We all love it here too much to let it go. But, if youâll excuse me, Frank, I do have some errands to finish up. Look for the care package. Kisses!â
She patted his hand, slowly standing. She adjusted her suit coat and left his office. Her stiletto heels on the marble floor clicked and clacked loudly as she exited the heavy double doors. Dru was on a mission.
This commercial break is brought to you by;
DRUBREW ENERGY!
Boost your mind, and Brew up some energy!
When your crew needs a brew, reach for DruBrew Energy!
The can was black and red and had Druâs face on the label, with a smile that would light up the world. Her laugh could be heard in the commercial, the sound of a canâs pop top opening and a refreshing âAhhhâ. The beat of her intro music played softly in the background. Then her voice, as lyrical as ever,
âWe at DruBrew treat you like family. All the ingredients are natural, the flavors are natural, and each can contains 2% cannabis oil for your health! Anxious? I got you. Stressed? I got you. Migraine sucking the life out of you? Let me help with that, I got you, boo. DruBrew Energy. When you want the best, come see me. Dru! I got you, baby!â
DruBrew Energy 2021, proud sponsors of OPW ShowCase.
ââ- Baton Rouge, Louisiana ââ-
ââ Crowley Property ââ
Diane Rhodes - âMiss White, this home has everything you requested!â
Dru arched a brow, indeed it had the options she wanted, but it lacked many things. Things sheâd have to build and add on herself, with the help of the Wolves. Security was needed. An office. Gun safe. Hidden safe for uber valuables. Motion detectors. Window sensors. Cameras. Panic button. Sheâd need to turn the basement into her secondary gun cache. Add tracking for the cats to move from room to room along the walls and ceilings. Special hide-a-beds for the cats. Decorative lighting. Repaint some of the walls⊠the list went on.
Dark. Victorian. Front porch. Massive back yard. Large warehouse next door. Three stories. Expansive kitchen. Already Gothâd to her tastes. She walked into the master bathroom. Clawfoot tub. Burgundy ceramic. Classic bronze feet. She was in love.
Roscoe stepped in behind her, his face clearly reflecting his feelings of âickâ about the home choice.
Roscoe - âAnd the area?â
Diane Rhodes - âTop notch. No neighbors in sight. Just a few miles from downtown. Backs up to a quaint little river.â
The Realtor was trying her best to make a sale, but what she didnât know was, Dru had already made a decision. Dru spun on her stiletto heel, leaning against the entryway to the master bedroom. It was large enough to accommodate her California King bedroom set; but the carpeting. It had to go.
Dru came back downstairs. Nudged Roscoe sweetly and looked at the Realtor.
âLook, Diane? Was it? I love the house. Letâs talk about price? Itâs $195,000?â
Diane Rhodes - âYes Miss, but Iâm sure the buyer would be willing to come down, assuming your creditâŠâ
The woman trailed off mid sentence when Dru raised a hand. She looked through the foyer into the kitchen, she could see her home here. All of her, well, what she had packed and taken with her, decorating the home. Sheâd need to hit more antique shops.
âAnd if I chose to buy, when would we close? When could I move in?â
Roscoe watched her closely. Since her last match, Robi had requested Dru take Roscoe everywhere. He was a bodyguard. Not that Dru needed it, but just to make her Alpha feel better, Dru agreed.
Diane Rhodes - âWell, the standard contract is 60 daysâŠâ
Dru growled. This was not ideal. Nor what she had planned.
âAnd if I chose to pay above market?â
The Realtor had dollar signs in her eyes. She smiled, laying the paperwork out on the kitchenâs island. Roscoe went to rebut but remained silent, he knew Dru could handle herself. Especially when it comes to money.
Diane Rhodes - âSign here, and I will rush this⊠how does Monday sound?â
Dru arched that brow again. Realtors. Car dealers. Lawyers. All were cut from the same cloth. Bloodsuckers. All they cared about was money. Little did they know, Dru was more than simply âloadedâ, her bank accounts rivaled large countries.
âPer the contract, you only receive a 5% commission. Is that correct?â
The Realtor bristled, but lusting for the big close, she nodded.
Diane Rhodes - âYes Miss, a mere pittance for helping someone find their forever home.â
Dru grinned, viciously.
âWell, such a shame. I called your boss earlier this morning, signed the papers. Left him a 15% tip⊠on top of the 5% commission.â
The Realtorâs heart sank, and she seemed visibly ill. Dru smiled. Waggling the keys at her.
âNow, if youâd please, get out of my home. We closed on the property an hour ago.â
Roscoe snickered as the Realtor attempted to gather her ego from the floor, scooting out of the house. Crying as she attempted to find some shred of dignity. Dru had been cruel, viciously cruel.
Roscoe - âYou are absolutely EVIL!â
Dru grinned.
âIâm nothing if not evil, Ros. You know that.â
She laid her coat down on the island in the kitchen. Sheâd have to order new appliances. The stainless steel ruined the feel of the house. She preferred retro, or even antique fixtures. But, in this case, she might have to settle for retro.
Roscoe - âSo, am I moving boxes⊠or?â
The doorbell chimed, like an old church bell. Dru loved it! She grinned once more and tapped Roscoe on the cheek before she bolted towards the door. Her bed had arrived! And, a few surprisesâŠ
A black fainting couch was hauled inside, a matching armchair, wrap-around couch and coffee tables came next⊠Dru, speechless, grabbed the note attached to the armchair.
âNever look down, never stop fighting, never think of yourself as alone. Love always, Roscoe.â
She was flabbergasted, absolutely speechless. Tears began to well up in her eyes as she watched movers literally fill her home, courtesy of one of her best friends in the world. Her hand covered her lips, as she almost collapsed. Roscoe caught her.
Roscoe - âHey now, none of that.â
He guided her to the fainting couch, allowing her to sit and relax.
Roscoe - âWeâve both been through hell and back, Dru, and I wouldnât be where I am if it werenât for you. Neither would Zion. Do you realize you saved us? You brought me back from the brinkâŠâ
Dru closed her eyes, dabbing at her tears with the black hanky she pulled from her bodice. Roscoe was right. Dru had, indeed, saved them. Zion was on the edge of losing her practice, but thanks to MeowlMir and Dru; salvaged her veterinary clinic. Now, the Wolves only used Zion as their vet. But what she had done for Roscoe, was more visceral. After his wife and son died, he fell into alcohol and drugs. Almost killing himself.
Dru reached out, tracked him down and spent a whole six months cleaning him up. Detoxing him. With Robi at their sides, helping rehab him. Robi gave him a vocation, and helped co-sign allowing Roscoe to open his own mechanics shop in New Orleans. But it was Dru who sat with him through throwing up everything in his stomach. Dru who kept him wrapped in blankets while he shivered uncontrollably as the drugs left his system. It was Dru who sat with him in church, every sunday, for a year, while he sought absolution.
She was his cheerleader. His best friend. His lover. But, she was also the only person he could call at 2am to help bury the body. No questions asked. Ever.
He leaned closer to her, to kiss her, but Dru pulled away, shaking her head. Her hand gently touched his face.
âNo.. .Ros⊠I love you, you know that but.. I canât.â
He sighed, he knew she was right. Her own wounds were still far too fresh, too real, for him to even think of stepping in. He chose to kiss her on the forehead as he stood, adjusting his slacks as he walked into the kitchen.
Roscoe - âLet me make you a cup of tea, yeah?â
Dru nodded, slowly standing. Her heeled boots carried her through the den and into the kitchen. She sat at the island. Looking over her dear friend. True, she did love him, but since the whole debacle with Jax⊠she wasnât sure she could ever trust her heart again. She was still very raw over that ordeal. It haunted her. It haunted her dreams.
As furniture was gently carried inside the house, being arranged in different rooms, Dru and Roscoe sat in the kitchen, over tea, just talking. Like old friends. Youâd never guess the two had been lovers in the past. Youâd also never guess Dru had crushed Roscoeâs heart when she left. He never let on. Not even Dru knew.
The day bled into the evening, and the duo had almost completely unpacked and arranged Druâs home. And with the help of Zion, the cats had been taken care of. She brought in their trees, their beds, the shit load of toys. She also took it upon herself to position them where she thought the cats would enjoy them most.
Releasing the two vicious beasts, Hel bolted for her cat tower/castle and watched the goings on from her high hide. Versus Reaper, who ambled around the home, exploring. His yowls echoed throughout the house, letting the trio laugh as they called him to them. Once he finally found them, in the kitchen, Zion placed both food bowls down. Hel chirped and ran for the food, while Reaper had to get pets and affection from everyone before he wandered to his bowl. Eating slowly.
Dru laughed, hugging her friends. But before Dru could really tell her friend thank you for the help, Zion had to leave, one of her own fur babies was sick, and she knew she couldnât leave him for long. Dru hugged her tightly before sending her off into the night. Roscoe stood behind Dru, in the doorframe, watching his sister speed off in her neon pink suburban. He wrapped his arms around Dru and smiled. It felt nice here, just like being home... but a sadness took the joy from his eyes once he remembered; this was Druâs home. He hid it from her masterfully.
âCâmon Ros, letâs order pizza.â
He nodded, doing so shook the sadness from him, he closed the door behind him as he spun. Throwing the deadbolt, he began to walk once more into the kitchen, however⊠He saw Dru had already laid her massive âDire Wolfâ skin rug in the center of the room. His boots were kicked off, by the door, out of respect. Dru had no such rule, but he was an old fashioned man. Respect was the highest held moral. He leaned his large 6 foot 4 inch frame against the countertop in the kitchen, watching Dru grab her phone and begin to order their dinner.
âPepperoni? Sausage? Bell peppers?â
Roscoe smiled.
Roscoe - âYeah, perfect.â
âMushrooms? Black olives? Anchovies?â
He wrinkled his face in disgust.
Roscoe - âNot the mushroomsâŠâ
Dru rolled her eyes, laughing as she finished the order. Two supreme pizzas. Family salad. Cheese sticks. And extra garlic butter. She had to add something to drink, as all she had at the moment was tea and she knew Roscoe was not the biggest fan of the drink. She tacked on Root Beer and Dr. Pepper.
Once more, they sat and talked. About nothing. About everything.
âOh.. youâre staying the night, yeah? Maybe just move in?â
Roscoe bristled. That would be the thing that tested his mettle.
Roscoe - âUhh⊠Sure?â
He blinked, finally realizing what she said.
Roscoe - âWhoa, Dru, hold on there⊠I mean, I can stay for a while, get you adjusted to the new place but⊠move in?â
She looked so fair, so much like a porcelain doll, so fragile; her words carried with them the weight of the world.
âWell, I mean, you need a place to stay⊠I have a spare room, hell I have a huge bed Ros⊠Youâd save money. No rent. No utilities. No bills of any sortâŠâ
So the arrangement was purely financial?
Please stay Ros⊠I need you⊠Her thoughts rose to the heavens, somehow allowing her to be more open, slowly lowering the walls sheâd had for so long. Please⊠I donât want to be alone...
He sighed heavily, Itâs not like I have anyone to go home to, maybe.. Maybe staying here will show her how much I want her. How much I care⊠How badly I want to rip her clothes⊠Whoa there pal⊠I love you Druscilla, why canât you see? His own inner monologue was quite sad. Almost an Elizabethan tragedy. They were two ships, drifting in the sea, beside one another, but unable to see one another. He took a deep breath.
Roscoe - âHow about we see how a week goes? And I will buy a bed for the guest room, ok?â
Dru smiled, answering the door for the pizza as she called over her shoulder;
âGood, Iâm not sure I could sleep alone right now, you will do no such thing, I will get a bed for you, by tomorrow evening if youâd prefer. Okay?â
Coming back with the pizza, bags for soda and sauce, and the salad⊠Roscoe swallowed hard. Sleep with her? Was she serious? Even just for one night? Thank God it was a California KingâŠ
âYou know, I got so used to having someone there, with me.â
Gothic skull plates were pulled from the box marked âkitchenâ and wiped down before she dared lay a slice on either of them. Next plating up the salad, she watched Roscoe, his unease.
âOh come on, Ros⊠youâve slept in my bed before.â
She laughed!
âWe didnât have sex then, we wonât now.â
I mean.. Unless you want to⊠She thought, going on to consider; Well, maybe he didnât then because he doesnât find me.. Appealing⊠Iâm⊠Average? Maybe? I mean, Iâm not Angelina Jolie but⊠Iâm pretty, arenât I?
Her thoughts cut her like knives, down to the core. She sipped her Dr. Pepper. Fighting to stop the words from popping into her head.
Jesus Christ.. I want her⊠those hips.. Those eyes⊠Fuck. His own mind ran wild, but he forced the thoughts away, or tried to; Her skin feels so soft, smells so deliciously fragrant, why wonât she let me love her? Does she not see that I love her? Why did that fucker have to hurt her? Why did he betray her? Sheâs so wounded⊠Let me heal your wounds, Dru⊠please⊠Lean on me, baby, Iâll never let you fallâŠ
But there came more doubts. That inner demon slithered into her mind like a snake hunting its prey.
You are all criminals. Youâre all failures, especially you, my dear Druscilla. There is no other way to explain you other than a failure. How else could you be defined? Her mind continued to run amok; torturing her with even more questions but the weirdest one, she answered verbally, much to the shock of Roscoe.
âYou see us as you want to see usâin the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brainâŠand an athleteâŠand a basket caseâŠa princessâŠand a criminal. Does that answer your question?â
Roscoe - â⊠What the fuck? Dru? What do you mean?â
She shook her head, waving it off.
âNothing Ros.. it was.. nothing.â
She wiped a tear from her eye as she took a bite of her pizza. She had no clue, poor dear, that the man in front of her wanted to me the man who remained at her side until they both died. And Roscoe was too scared to tell her. Not even if it meant Dru lived, instead of sacrificing herself for someoneâŠ
And Roscoe, still rather struck by the odd response Dru gave that no one asked for, but for now, just for tonight, he rolled with it. He kissed her cheek and ate his pizza. All the while wishing, on every star, that this person in front of him would see. See the truth.
Would the two ever realize their folly? Would Roscoe finally tell Druscilla how he feels? Would Druscilla ever discover she was more than meets the eye? What about JJ? Was he just someone to tease? A mere plaything? Would destiny ever finally allow Druscilla and Roscoe the chance at being together?
ââ- The Bayou ââ-
ââ Midnight Coven Meeting ââ
----- ON CAMERA -----
The group gathered, bonfire behind them, offerings in hand. They each lay their gift in the fire, summoning Him. Dru stood at the end of the line, in her hands were the ceremonial dagger; crafted in the fires of Mordor, and a large heart. Porcine or Bovine, it was hard to differentiate between them. Her hands were coated in blood. Her face lit by the flickering of flames seemed sinister.
The sky was pitch, stars speckled the onyx sheet above them, but thunder rumbled from the west. Rain was coming. A storm had been brewing since she returned from her last match. Her fight against Necra Octavian Kane had shocked even Dru herself. The woman was known to be brutal, unhinged, a Grim Reaper⊠but when she went up against Dru, it was as if someone was pulling the strings. Behind the scenes. As if someone plotted this against Dru, to lure her into a false sense of security⊠but Dru knew better. She knew no one went undefeated. She also knew, no one was a PuppetmasterâŠ
When it finally came to Dru to place her offering, she stood against the winds. They had picked up force, as if the beginnings of a hurricane were hitting their shores.
âVoodoo Father⊠I call you. I seek your guidance!â
Hail to the Guardians of the watchtowers of the South! The powers of Fire and Feeling!
Hear me!
The winds whipped through her hair, her robes, kicking dust up and sending the smoldering embers in a tornado around her. Was he listening?
âA force as dark as tar has come to our home, Voodoo Father, and I wish to push him back. Keep the darkness at bayâŠâ
She felt a hand touch her face, she gasped. At the same time, she threw the heart into the flames. They rose higher, almost whispering to her. The winds pulled her upwards, slightly, lightning crackled through the sky as He began to step through the flames.
Once he began to materialize, Dru felt a disturbance. She tried to warn him, but she was gripped in place, as if she were doused in glue.
As the veil began to thin, a demonic voice echoed among the thunder claps drowning out the reply of the Voodoo Father;
Voodoo Father - âMy daughter⊠walk with my heart; you can defeat those who challenge you, but you must surrender yourself to the higher powerâŠâ
But before she could respond, that dark voice rang amongst the coven. Laughing at them. Using their bodies and voices to toy with her. Wrapping them in a sticky, black substance from whatever ethereal hell world he hailed from. Pinning them in place. Crushing them.
Invoke the spiritâŠ
Anubis - "Little ones.. no longer do you need to beg upon the feet of a fragile, fickle and ancient piece of shit. Some "God." The old ways are what have given birth to the dawn of a new testament. Their clouded shroud of pathetic nurture and let be, is what blazed the trail that has now led each and every single one of you blasphemous whores into my cold, dreaded embrace."
He takes it to a dark place⊠Do not be afraid...
He cackled as his darkness grew in a black oil, tarnishing everything it touched. He glows bright to the eye, his crown of skeletal remains resting comfortably upon his mask. His throne, a fabulous lazy boy, made from the careers and lives he had taken. His feet are kicked up, an unholy blunt in the mouth of the mask.
Anubis - "Let this be the day you are cast free of your binds that exiles you to walk amongst this forsaken wasteland, in servitude of the old God's that don't give a single fuck about you. Today is your salvation. All you have to do is accept this Everblack into your hearts. Set yourselves free."
Invoke the spirit, Prophet...
She struggled against the darkness, it yanked at her limbs, bit at her face, but she would not be forced to bend. She growled. Through clenched fangs;
âWho are you to dethrone the gods who ruled for eons?â
She spat into the nothing, into the Everblack, her words slicing deep.
But at the same time.. she felt like Dr. Ray Stanz. Addressing Gozer:
Gozer the Gozerian, good evening. As a duly designated representative of the city, county and state of New York, I order you to cease any and all supernatural activity and return forthwith to your place of origin or to the nearest convenient parallel dimensionâŠ
âWho are you to say you can cage this hellcat?â
She struggled more, a white glow emanating from her heart; one that would not be extinguished. It grew bright then dulled, but never did it flicker into oblivion.
âYou will never make me bow to you⊠Ever! I am not Atreyu watching Artax submit and I am stronger than your Nothing!â
The more she fought, the more her glow radiated. Almost enough to disrupt the black nothing that enveloped her. Yet, itâs hold still latched around her neck. Like a hand. Slowly squeezing.
Thunder rumbled from within the empty, a flash of red almost at exactly the same time. His cackle now echoed through the surroundings and out through your screens.
Anubis - "Stumble upon your own words, it is delightful."
Under his mask, he smirked before rage slid out from his coarsed voice.
Anubis - "I Am because I Am. Malice was the only bargaining chip offered to the One Above All. This cesspool you call Earth. You pathetic simpleton, I didn't dethrone them. THEY WERE NEVER EVEN THERE! Open your eyes my child, learn the truth as I have learned, and festered. I am the architect of the future schism. Humanity versus inhumanity. My whim, the grand author, guiding each and every last one of you maggots home. You will bow, little one.'
He sat up straight in his Lazy Boy throne, his face crossing the boundary of the veil separating two of the realities adrift in a vast multiverse.
Anubis - "YOU WILL BOW!"
She growled, harder did she fight as she glared into his eyes. Mask or no mask, she knew the stink that crossed her realm.
âMoore, you think me a fool? My Gods, whom you say never existed, have always been here. Especially for me.â
She wrenched her arm free of the bleakness to point a clawed finger nail at him. Her eyes red, her heart thudding in her ears.
âFuck you, Brandon, I will NEVER fall at your feet! You will be the one to look up from the flat of your fucking back, in awe, at me.â
That light sparked brighter, as if control was slowly being gained, but Dru did not notice. Her eyes remained on Brandon Moore. How the fuck he cut the veil between them, sheâd never know. He wasnât powerful. He wasnât a god. He was a weakling trumped up on an ego trip because of some bitches he kidnapped.
âDonât you dare threaten me, Moore. Ever. I fought you once, and I damn near won. Or have you forgotten?â
Her eyes rippled with anger, but her aura was calm. Soothing like a river. Her coven mates stood behind her, fear mingled with an almost longing as they looked between her and the demon.
His cackle grows loud and true, ringing the ears of his adversaries. The laughter dies down as he sits back in his throne, a cloud of smoke pouring out every empty space of his mask. Blood drips from the crown of remains atop his head.
Anubis - "Silly child. Brandon Moore isn't here. You will see him in the ring Monday night. I only come out to play with the players. You are merely a pawn that sits idly by on our vast board, and the game we play is life. Your struggles and positioning on the board dictates nothing but agony for you. You can accept my warmth, or you can just fall into the pit along with the rest of them, just another maggot VICTIMIZED BY BRANDON MOORE!"
Her jaw clenched, muscles tension grew in a troubling direction. She yanked more of herself free from his grasp, even ripping her cloak directly off her body. She sucked in a deep breath, calculating her response, before she took one step closer to the figure that threw her Bayou into chaos.
âFuck your faux royalty bullshit. Piss on the disgusting dreams you have of this religion of yours; you know nothing. You know absolutely fuckall about who I am. Brandon Moore or not, whoever the fuck you are or whatever in the demonic realms you crawl from, are nothing to me.â
Her light grew, almost blindingly so. Her coven shook free of Mooreâs charms. Scared, clinging to her frame. Her black clothing, highlighted by that aura. Lightning crashed behind her. The bayou went silent.
âMonday, you will bow to me. You will beg for me to stop. You will cry. Whether you weep tears or blood, that depends on you. I know you, Moore. I know your schtick. I know your routine. Youâre weak. Youâre nothing to me. Get it? I. Will. Not. Bow. Ever.â
Crimson flash, the darkness spewing it's thunderous ego in the process. He clenched the arms of his throne, attempting to hold himself in place. His arms began to shake, the veins exploding through the top of his skin.
Anubis - "MONDAY NIGHT, YOU WILL DIE!"
His shout pierced the scene, ripping it to shreds. All that remained was the unholy sight of a bleak and empty state. Reality, wiped away like shit on a toilet bowl, and all hope appeared to be lost for our heroine.
Her hand reached out to the bleakness, that white-hot light leapt from her fingertips to the Everblack, setting it ablaze.
âNo, motherfucker, Monday night⊠YOU die!â
She looked at her own hands in shock, pure disbelief. Sure sheâd smacked her head in a tree branch or something. But her coven mates.. how they looked to her with awe. One dared to touch her hands as he spokeâŠ
Coven member 1 - âYouâre a wizard DruscillaâŠâ
We are the weirdos, mister.
Dru just smiled before she flipped the switch and the scene cut to snow.
Brandon Moore. A foe sheâs fought before. They almost killed one another. Can she survive against Brandon Moore a second time? Or will she rise with his title on her shoulder, him flaccid at her feet? Will she come to the precipice of death and turn away? Or will Druscilla be yet another victim on the pile for Moore?
ââ Druscilla White Property ââ-
ââ- The News ââ-
Dru awoke to her phone ringing, she stretched and grumbled as she moved Roscoeâs arm off her side. She patted his bicep as she slid from between the sheets, wrapping her robe around herself. Grabbing the phone from its cradle, she yawned softly. Bringing it to her ear, she heard a voice she knew all too well. It made her smile.
âHey.â
Robi - âDru? You need to pack.â
âWha?â
Robi - âMama Rose died. Weâre needed down in Plant City. I know you have a match coming up...â
Dru was stunned. Standing there⊠Astounded. Absolutely blindsided.
âWhoa.. Mama Rose⊠She was great the last time we saw her. What happened? And stop, Iâll be there for you. Even if it means I pull an all nighter. Fly from Florida to D.C. then back. Hell, Iâll no show if needed.â
Robiâs voice was serious, void of superfluous emotions but heavy with concern. This held Dru in her place, the current goings on had her worried, but adding a funeral to⊠Dru wasnât sure she could do much more. But Robi needed her. The Wolves needed her. She gathered every ounce of strength she could muster and decided to push forward. What choice did she have? The Wolves were family. Dru would die for her family.
Robi - âNo. No no showing. You go and kick ass for Mama Rose. Iâll fill you in when you get here. Bring the Wolves. And Dru..â
âYeah?â
Robi - âPlease hurry?â
She nodded, rousting Roscoe from his slumber. Signing that they had a funeral to go to. Roscoe, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, returned signing Whose? Who died? Only to have Dru sign Rose in return. Roscoe bristled, slightly, and acknowledged what he was told. Dru didnât use sign language often only when absolutely necessary. So he knew she was serious.
âAlways Robs, always. Iâll see you in Florida.â
Autobots, Roll out!
The two hung up, and Dru stood there. Baffled as to what just happened. Their dear friend. She wasnât with them anymore.
âGet your duffle. Pack your dress uniform, Ros.â
Roscoe, still somewhat bewildered as to why she woke him before 9 a.m. nodded slowly, kissing her forehead as he passed her into the closet. She took a deep breath, this was the second time Dru had physically felt pain at the loss of someone in years. Daneâs passing was still heavy on her heart.
I will grieve alone for the rest of my life, but right now I want to be around people who loved her. She thought, referring to her loss of Dane and even Jax, but now Mama Rose. One of the few people who never judged Dru for her past, rather she welcomed her with open arms. Something that still flabbergasted Dru.
Roscoe - âDo I have time to shower before we jet?â
Dru snapped from her daze, looked over her shoulder and nodded.
âYeah, get a shower. Iâll pack and meet you in there in a few, ok?â
He bobbed his head as he stepped into the massive shower, leaving Dru alone. She sat on the edge of the bed, deep in thought. Reaper and Hel padded into the master bedroom, both chirping up at Dru. She knelt down, clutching her robe close to her body, making sure all the best bits were covered, as she pet both of them. Scratching their chins, behind their ears, even their chests. She sighed. The shower turned on, and while Dru knew she was supposed to be packing⊠She couldnât bring herself to get up, at this moment, instead she chose to accept the affections of her beloved pets. Something she still hadnât done with Roscoe. Every advance was met with sorrow and distance. Even sleeping in the same room, let alone the same bed. She wanted so truly to love him, but she didnât feel as if she could⊠or should.
Roscoe - âWoman, are you coming to shower or am I wasting hot water? Come on Dru, we got to go.â
She smiled, softly, before she kissed both kitties on the foreheads and stood. Making her way to the bathroom, that robe hit the ground in a heap, followed by her lingerie and the sound of the shower door unlatching. Roscoe stepped in front of the mirror, already dressed and finishing up styling his hair. He longed for her. He worshipped her. How did she not see?
Was our heroine truly blind? Was she purposely keeping love at arms length? Did Druscilla see no other way? Was she truly planning on not coming home? Had Druscilla planned everything? Was she seeking retribution? Would Druscilla be victorious at Outlaw Proâs final ShowCase? What was she going to do, with OPW closing? Was she toxic to any fed she joined? Was Druscilla Poison Ivy?
ââ Unknown location in Florida ââ-
ââ June 17 2021 ââ
The dark alley. How cliche. How noire. Yet, how apropos. A foreshadowing for many things. Dru kept her face mask on, waiting. Checking her watch randomly. She heard footsteps. She pressed tighter to the wall, watching out of the corner of her eye to see a man, a scrawny man come in her direction. She smiled. He was late, but he was here. She checked the roof in front of her, Roscoe was still there. She saw the muzzle of his rifle, barely.
The man, as thin as a noodle and about as strong, stopped in front of her. He seemed weary. Almost shaky. Feening for something. He stuck out his hand, with a small compact inside, to Dru. Her eyes never left his. She took the compact, narrowing her eyes slightly.
âIs it all here?â
Chicken Noodle - âYes Maâam.â
She grabbed his shirt collar, spinning to pin him against the wall. Harshly.
âYou sure?â
He grunted, tensing and trying to pull away from her. He smelled like stale popcorn and cheap lube. A smell she was confronted with every single time she either walked by Joe Montouriâs office or his brother's shithole of a dressing room. A smell that hung in the air like a bad habit. She was disgusted. Thoroughly.
Chicken Noodle - âYes, maâam. Dates. Times. Dock number. Name of the ship.â
She swallowed softly, trying hard not to gag as the man spoke. His breath was somehow worse than his body stench. As if a hooker had died in a tanning bed and been dragged to a shed⊠Oh wait, his breath smelled like Brandon Moore after a bad binge. Thatâs how she knew that smell. Fade2Black was never a nice place, but when BMoore showed up, if he deigned to show up, that was generally the stank that floated around behind him.
âAnd our access?â
The small man whined, cringing as she spoke. Heâd obviously been someone's chew toy for years, or their punching bag. He handed her 5 employee ID cards.
Chicken Noodle - âDancing girls and wait staff. Room for 5 of you. 3 dancers, 2 waiters. âŠ.â
He whimpered, scared out of his mind, but Dru held fast. She growled softly, pushing him harder into the cement wall.
âAnd our exit?â
He cried out, lowly, now both his hands clutched around hers, he worthlessly tried to free himself from her grasp.
Chicken Noodle - âLifeboats.. Best I can doâŠâ
She thudded his head against the wall, one final time, before lowering her voice;
âWho all knows?â
Chicken Noodle - âJ...Just me MissâŠâ
âGood.â
She finally let him go, and watched him stumble over himself to get away back down the alley. She smiled. She opened the compact, notes, thumb drives, order slips⊠Everything she needed to get onto Gottiâs yacht. Everything she needed to finally save her daughter. Including a failsafe. She slid both the compact and those ID cards into an inner pocket in her cut.
Now all she needed was to figure out who was going. She knew Roscoe was not one to sit idly by, nor was Diesel. She had no choice there. But as for the two women⊠she couldnât ask any of her loved ones to risk their lives like that. Even though she knew sheâd get her ass busted by Robi if she went alone. If she survived.
If everything went according to plan, it would be game over for Gotti.
Game over man, game over.
But should one thing go awry⊠Dru would be the one to pay. And she would pay dearly.
Get away from her, you bitch!
Dru was serious. After hearing her daughter had been sold. Slavery. This turned her stomach more than anything sheâd seen before. Selling a human like cattle at auction to the highest bidder. And God knows what poor Priscilla had been subjected to by now?
Would Druscilla survive? Would the Wolves lose their Beta to a FUBAR plan? Or would they succeed in saving the Princess from Bowser? Thereâs no 1 UP mushrooms where our heroine is going. There are no Warp Zones. No save points. This is do or die for our heroine.
Stay Tuned for more The Prophet next week!