A/N: Earlier this year, a fan Q&A Paige did for MTV UK was posted to YouTube where she was asked which male Superstar she would like to have a program with. She gave three names – Stone Cold Steve Austin, Dean Ambrose and Bray Wyatt (the last one she seemed particularly interested in.) That was the inspiration behind this story as I feel this would be a great way to bring Paige back into the frontlines of the Divas division. (The video itself can be found on YouTube by searching 'Paige Bray Wyatt'.)
This story was also brought about by the question of Paige's place in the division with the new additions of Charlotte, Becky Lynch and Sasha Banks on RAW and Bayley leading NXT. Some people question whether Paige is being punished for her brash social media posts or her using an F-bomb on a WWE-sponsored online fan event, which they consider to be proof of her being egotistical and immature. I don't think she's being punished and while I agree that she should be careful about her behaviour regarding company events, I find her a bit of a breath of fresh air personality-wise: she speaks her mind and doesn't care what people think about her, which on top of being skilled and beautiful is just another of her great qualities. I think she still will be a significant part of the division for a long time. Nonetheless, these theories also influenced this story.
The song in the story is 'I Started a Joke' by Becky Hanson. And yes - it and the Suicide Squad trailer also influenced the story.
Enjoy and let me know what you think!
The black knee-high boot sailed across the women's locker room. It struck the tile wall with a loud BANG, causing the sound to vibrate all throughout the area.
"Self-righteous bitch!"
Paige slammed the door behind her as she marched in with purpose. She clutched her other wrestling boot in her hand and briefly entertained the idea of slamming it against a locker until she caved the door in. She settled for pitching it onto the floor as she stomped over to one of the benches and sat violently down.
Natalya had stuck her big fat Canadian nose in her business again this week on RAW. For the second straight week in a row, she had gotten in Paige's face, calling her an immature, spoiled young brat. Well, of course Paige had challenged her to another match that night – and once again had found her tapping out to the Sharpshooter while her back and her pride screamed in agony. That would have been bad enough, except that Natalya had then proceeded to go for an exclusive interview with Eden and say that Paige was out of touch with the Divas Revolution and was now acting like the Bella Twins.
"Who the hell does she think she is?!" Paige yelled out loud. It would have looked strange to anyone looking on, but she didn't care who heard her. Not that anyone was likely to as the show had ended almost an hour earlier. She was probably the last person still in the building and that was the way she liked it – alone and no one to tell her what or what not to do or say.
Ah yes, what she should say. Paige was well aware her recent behaviour was not making her any friends in the locker room, but it was WWE's management that was really pissing her off. So what that she'd told a fan in a live chat 'fuck you too'? It wasn't at a show and the fan, to be perfectly honest, was being a total douche. But because it couldn't be edited, she'd gotten reamed over the coals and was now being largely put to the side in terms of event status. Well, screw them. She'd drop as many F-bombs as she wanted as long as it wasn't in front of a live audience. This was her personality and if management didn't like it, they could kiss her arse.
Paige tossed her other boot against a locker directly across from her. It seemed that no matter what she tried, the WWE Universe seemed to dismiss her, even when she'd called out the other Divas for getting where they were based on who they slept with or who their mother had slept with. She felt like Chris Jericho had all those years ago when he'd called out Shawn Michaels for faking an injury, only for the fans to turn on him. She'd put everything she had into making sure the women of WWE got a fair chance by starting this revolution, yet while Divas like Charlotte, Becky Lynch, Sasha Banks and Bayley were killing it on RAW and NXT and getting lauded for it, she was being swept to the sidelines like yesterday's rubbish.
"Screw them," she said, this time out loud. She'd show them. It wouldn't be long before everyone was talking about her again. She'd take what was rightfully hers and show everyone that this really was her house – always had been and always would be.
With a sigh of annoyance, Paige got up and walked over to where her boot lay. Though she wasn't looking forward to it, management was expecting her to reply to Natalya's comments via Twitter. She'd post a mostly PG comment, right before sorting through all the hundreds of tweets fans sent her. She was hoping tonight would be easy on the negative stuff; every night, she had to block three or four creeps who thought making sexually explicit and misogynistic comments would get them a one-way ticket to her bedroom. Maybe if their dicks were half as big as they claimed, they wouldn't need to sexually harass women online to get them.
Paige stooped down to pick up the boot. She turned it over in her hand, lost in thought over whether she should be forceful or taunting in her Twitter reply. Deciding on some type of mix that would get underneath the Canadian's skin, she turned around.
And knocked against the person standing behind her.
The boot fell to the ground. The shout of anger budding in her throat fizzled and died as she saw who it was, her mouth slowly closing with her eyes widening.
The smirk that lay beneath his big bushy beard stretched across Bray Wyatt's face. His eyes, partially hidden beneath his wide-brimmed hat, shone with mad amusement.
He cocked his head, studying her. "You know, when I was a boy," he said, his southern drawl as evident as ever, "my father would always point out to me the sheep in the farm yards. He'd tell me, 'Bray, look at that one over there by the fence. The one separated from the others.' I'd ask why there was always one outside the rest of them. And his answer was always the same. He'd say 'that one made too much noise. He bleeped and bleeped and annoyed all the rest. So they kicked him out to the fringes.' You know why?"
His eyes brimmed with repressed excitement. "So when the wolves come around, they hear him, not the flock."
Paige stood straight and swallowed hard. Though her body didn't betray it, she was more than just a little nervous. She hadn't had much contact with any members of the Wyatt Family, current or former, during her tenure in WWE; not surprising considering they always kept to themselves and apart from the rest of the Superstars. The little contact she'd had had convinced her of two things; they were all bloody mad – like, truly mad – and they were all dangerous. Even though Bray was alone, the fear she felt deep inside was threatening to spill out.
Summoning all the courage she had, she looked straight at him and cocked her head back. "Really? Well, that's a truly fascinating story, but if you want to entertain me, you're going to have to do better. Besides, you're in the wrong room and I need some privacy. So if you'll excuse me…"
She made a move to push past him and he moved to block her. She tried the other direction and found him there again. Feeling more pissed off than scared she gave him a cold look of defiance. "Maybe I didn't make myself clear. Get the fuck out of my way. Now."
Bray gave her an intrigued look. He pushed his hat back slightly. "Are you a sheep?"
"What?"
"You've bleated like a sheep. So are you a sheep?"
Paige felt her pale face flush red with anger. "How dare you…"
"You have everything you could possibly hope for," Bray interrupted. "Power, strength, the reflection of darkness that seduces the believers and frightens the heretics. Yet you dilute it, for fame, fortune, fans… You've become everything you hate and call out. You bleat and bleat. The flock abandons you and the wolves howl at your weakness. Why? How can the Duchess of Darkness move followers at the flick of your hand when it is too busy tapping at the feet of false prophets?"
"Listen, you bastard," Paige started angrily, trying to dismiss how well she thought the nickname Duchess of Darkness sounded. "I don't what bullshit you're trying to spin right now, but my life is none of your business, okay? What I do with my life is my choice. And in case you haven't noticed, I'm not taking anything lying down. I settle my business in the ring. You don't see me cornering you in the men's locker room and berating you over getting speared through a table, do you?" She stabbed a finger into his chest. "No, you don't. So stay the hell out of my business." She jabbed her finger into his chest again. "You hear me?"
A smirk appeared on his face. He looked at her with even more interest. Without a word, he grabbed hold on her wrist.
Paige seized up involuntarily; what felt like a shockwave had rammed through her body without any warning. She jerked her arm away, her eyes darting around as flashes of images raced through her mind as though she was on some kind of crazy drug-induced delusion. For a moment she could only catch glimpses of them, black and white racing past her eyes.
Then they suddenly slowed down, almost as if in slow-motion. There was no sound…none matching the images…until she heard slow high-pitched string instrument in the background along with a high female voice speaking slowly.
No…not speaking.
Singing.
I started a joke…
Paige stands in the backstage area, trying to rally the other Divas to help her take down the Bella Twins. Most are dismissive. A few laugh at the notion of teaming up with her.
Which started the whole world crying...
Charlotte, Becky Lynch and Sasha Banks present themselves on RAW. The fans are absolutely ecstatic. They yell and cheer, tears of joy streaming down some of their faces as the new arrivals decimate Team Bella.
Paige stared back into Bray's eyes – soulless, dark, and dangerous. "What are you doing?" she murmured.
But I didn't see…
Paige looks on in frustration. Numerous weeks in a row, she lies on the mat pounding her hand in submission as Sasha twists and torques her in the Bank Statement. Charlotte and Bayley raise their newly-won championships above their head, basking in the adoration of the crowd.
Bray didn't break eye contact. "You've lost your path, given it away. How much do you want it back?"
That the joke was on me…
Paige looks on in annoyance as Charlotte plays to the crowd following her championship win, completely ignoring her British 'friend.' Backstage, in the privacy of an empty room, she punches the wall, pulls at her hair, and screams in frustration.
Paige started taking deep breaths; the air had suddenly become tighter around her as though it was being sucked out with a vacuum. "So is that it? I'm your experiment? A sacrifice for Sister Abigail or whoever it is you worship? Fancy me getting on my knees for you?" She suddenly felt a terrifying chill at the implication of that.
Bray merely cocked his head. "You want to see what the world is like when you strip away your mask?" Without warning he placed his hand on the side of her face. More images and singing flew through her mind.
I started to cry…
Paige berates the other Divas for their previous actions. While her words flowed with anger, if one looked closely enough they could see the barely repressed tears of frustration that no one would listen to her. No one would take her seriously.
Which started the whole world laughing…
Charlotte and Natalya up in her face, berating her, criticizing her. Beating her in the ring. Making her nothing. Then walking away to their own successes, leaving her alone, much to the delight of the fans.
New images. Ones she hadn't seen before.
A grungier Paige, hair more dishevelled. New sadism in her eyes.
Paige brutalizes opponents in the ring – Team Bella, Natalya, Becky, Sasha, Bayley.
She grabs a terrified Charlotte by her face backstage, brings her close.
Murmurs to her, 'Hope you can pay for it.'
Smashes her face-first through a plate glass window.
Paige hitting male Superstars with various weapons – chairs, kendo sticks, barbed wire bats. John Cena, Roman Reigns, Dean Ambrose collapse at her feet.
She giggles sadistically and stares ahead.
"The world is at your fingertips, waiting for you," Bray was saying. "Waiting for you to lead it down the path of righteousness."
Paige stared at him. The bearded man smiled and took a step towards her. She subconsciously found herself backing up against the locker, trying to stay away from him. But she couldn't. "Please don't hurt me," she found herself whispering. She felt a twinge of hate and shame at how weak and stereotypical she sounded, but nevertheless could find nothing else to say in that moment.
If I'd only seen…
Bray looked at her in surprise. "Oh, I'm not gonna to hurt you."
He reached out towards her and Paige had one more fleeting vision before her mind – herself kneeling in the ring, arms stretched out to the side, head flung back towards the ceiling. She was laughing…maniacally.
That the joke was on me…
He leaned in closely so they were only an inch apart, smiles in a self-accomplishing manner. "I'm just gonna turn you – really…really…bad…"
Paige knelt in the ring. She stretched her arms out to the side and flung her head back towards the ceiling. She was laughing. She wasn't sure when she'd started but she couldn't stop, didn't want to stop. The laughter rose up around her – lengthy, sadistic, maniacal. Her whole body shook as the laughter poured from her throat.
The broken, unconscious bodies of Team Bella lay in the ring around her. There was a stunned, hushed silence in the audience, by the announcers. Everyone was looking at her in a sense of shock and, for many, horror at what they were seeing. She knew everyone backstage would be doing the same, including the phonies in the women's locker room.
Bray stood behind her, Luke Harper and Braun Strowman on either side. Bray spoke into a microphone. "Behold," he said in his slow, oily tone, "I give you the Duchess of Darkness. I give you…Sister Abigail's Pride and Joy. There is only one path towards truth and righteousness."
He looked down at her. "And Duchess…what is that? Tell the poor, deceived folk what they need to do."
He placed the microphone beside her mouth.
Paige stopped laughing and looked straight into the camera, her eyes boring holes into the minds of every person watching. The grin on her face didn't fade, nor did it disappear behind the mane of black hair hanging around her face.
"Follow…the buzzards."