Post by Jolyne Ferolino on Apr 24, 2022 1:00:28 GMT
001. THE MESSAGE
"What is the point of it all all?"
Static.
Harsh and abrasive, it cuts through what was once pure blackness as the scene comes to life. Through the flickering lines images are procured, showing off a montage of pure, unbridled violence. One person is sent through a stack of tables while another is cracked open in the ring, blood drops staining the mat. More slams, more hits, more chaos, more damage. The pacing gets quicker and more frenetic. With each person seen, words from other commentators can be seen and heard.
"This sort of violence is unprecedented. It’s absolutely sickening to witness.”
"You got to be a different breed of sadistic to inflict this kind of punishment onto other people."
"Jesus fucking Christ. At this point, it's not even about winning the damn match for her; she's just trying to send a message."
"You got to be a different breed of sadistic to inflict this kind of punishment onto other people."
"Jesus fucking Christ. At this point, it's not even about winning the damn match for her; she's just trying to send a message."
A message.
That part is repeated several times over as the limp, defeated bodies of these wrestlers are seen in slow motion. The echo of those words is harrowing, much like the bloody sights themselves. Eventually, the images cease to focus on a sole shot of Jolyne Ferolino. She’s donned in a crimson mask, yet it didn’t faze her. In the black and white scene, she was smoking a cigarette with her back against a brick wall. Her gaze was set right on the camera. She blew some smoke, and the camera zoomed in on it before it began to dissipate.
When the smoke cleared, the shot is focused on Jolyne. Same cigarette. Same wall. This time, however, she isn’t bloodied. Wearing a black crop top with a studded red leather jacket, she fixed the cigarette stick in between her lips as the scene gradually came into color. An amused smirk came to the surface.
“What is the point. That’s the question that’s on the tip of everyone’s tongues, right?”
She chuckled and nodded her head.
“Well, wrestling is all about making statements, is it not? If you want your name out there, then you gotta do something to make sure people remember you. You can twiddle your thumbs and wait with bated breath to get an opportunity presented to you on a silver plate. However, you’re just better off taking the damn plate for yourself and letting everyone know that it’s yours. It’s why I attacked Nightmare at the last show.”
“And yeah, you bitches might hate me for it. Still, if you’re gonna come at me with some bullshit about honor and respect, then you can kindly go fuck yourself.”
A scoff. She shook her head, giving a disparaging look to the viewer.
“I mean, really? Honor? Respect? Tch. Are we forgetting what the fuck wrestling is now? This has never been a sport about honor and respect. It’s about power, bragging rights, accolades, and all of that. Besides, the history books will hardly ever remember the methods someone takes to get to the top. All that matters is that they were able to accomplish something. The finer details don’t mean shit in that regard.”
“Still, some folks take this match I’ve got coming up as some sort of punishment. A way to humiliate me, really. Whether that is the case or not, I truly don’t give a shit. This is my first match at CU:LT, and regardless of the circumstances, this match is important for me. This match is a chance for me to send a direct message to each and every single one of you that’s tuning in and listening to me right now. Because everything I do has a purpose. It isn’t enough for me to win. Nah… I’m not just trying to get a quick victory in. It's about making it clear that Jolyne Ferolino isn't anything to fuck with."
Jolyne's tone is dark. There is a fire in her eyes, that sort of hot, burning blaze that seeks to harm. She paced back and forth as she carried on with her speech.
"My body is an instrument for destruction. One that will carry out a symphony filled with anguish and pain. I don't care about getting hurt. That comes with the territory. I want every opponent I face to leave battered and bruised. I want them to remember how much I pushed them. I want fans to witness what a bitch like me is capable of.”
“‘Sides, this is wrestling, remember? This shit isn’t some cutesy ballet. As far as I’m concerned, we’re here to beat the breaks out of each other. Ain’t that right, Lady Fartmouth?”
Another puff of smoke.
“You know, I wonder what years of pent-up rage from all of the humiliation you had to endure will lead you to do. After all, you’re a freak. An outcast. An abomination. You’ve heard these words and similar ones all your life, huh? No wonder why you decided to take a swing at everyone when you were in the circus. Can't really fault you for that though. Shit, I would've done the exact same thing.“
"I bet you've got a message or two you want to send out. I bet you want to make everyone that has clowned you and made you feel like absolute shit tremble in fear. You want to ruin everyone in front of you and show folks that you're not some proverbial loser or the laughing stock for them to have fun with. You have so much to gain. So much to give. So much to prove. But, most importantly, you’ve got a lot to lose. After all, if you lose, what's next for you? You can't exactly go back to the one place that took you in. You don't have a home or any family. It ain't no exaggeration to call this a do or die situation for you."
One final puff and Jolyne let the cigarette fall onto the ground. She snuffed it with the heel of her boot.
“So, I want you to fight back, Lady Fartmouth. I want you to swing as hard as you fucking can at me. Look at me and imagine I am the collective of everyone that has ever wronged you. Try and tear me up as you did with those circus freaks and all of those people that wanted to treat you like a fucking freakshow. I want you to bring as much fuel to this fire, because with each blow and hit you send my way I’m gonna come at you harder and swallow you fucking whole.”
Slowly nodding her head, she looked to be getting a little giddy.
“Oh, it riles me up. Gets my fucking blood roaring. It won’t be as fun beating some weak bitch into a pulp. I need you to help me get my message across, Lady. You’ll help me put the pen to paper and start it all off for me. That way, everyone here at CU:LT will realize that no matter how ballsy they may think they are or how much they can outlast me, nothing that they will do will ever stop me.”
Another montage played out interspersed with Jolyne's words.
“Because I’m wilder.”
In one segment, Jolyne can be seen jumping from the rafters to put a few wrestlers through a table with a moonsault.
“I’m tougher.”
In the next one, Jolyne is headbutted by one particularly resilient foe, causing her to bleed. However, she laughed and cracks back at them with an equally sickening headbutt of her own.
“I’m meaner.”
Another shot showed that she has an opponent wrapped up with a chain around their neck. She's on top, mounting them. While tugging the chain back to further choke them, Jolyne came down with several hammerfists to their face.
“And I am absolutely crueler than anyone you have ever faced.”
The last scene showed Jolyne doing her signature cutthroat taunt before raising her hand up in the air. It faded back to current Jolyne, where there is an unmistakable gleam in her eyes.
“So, fight back. I love that shit. This is already going to be a spectacle just from you alone. Might as well give these people an even bigger show than they’re anticipating.”
“Plus, it’ll make my way to the top a lot sweeter with your blood along the path.”
A chuckle left her lips as the harsh static returned. Soon, the feed would cut off, and everything went back to black.
✯
