The computer rebooted and I lost this whole chapter. Ugh. Here's to starting over...
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Lita stared across the ring...well...kiddie pool of mud at her opponent Terri Runnels. She knew something was very wrong, and not just the match itself. Bischoff wouldn't put her in a match she could easily win, not even something this degrading, without something up his sleeve. So what was he planning? And where the hell was the ref, anyway?
She got answers to both questions when Evolution's music hit. Randy Orton walked down the ramp in his usual tights and a black-and-white striped shirt.
Lita steeled her gaze on him, neither one breaking their eye contact. Terri took this as an opportunity to jump the women's champion. For her attempts, she received a Litabomb and a quick pin. Lita looked over at Orton, standing with arms crossed, refusing to make the count. Terri struggled and flailed under the mud, and not wanting to be a murderer by drowning, Lita let her up. Terri streaked up the ramp in a mud-covered blur, forgetting the women's title in favor of saving her life. Lita stood, waiting for Orton to make his move.
When he made his leap, it was must faster than she was expecting, and Lita wasn't prepared for it. "I forgot how athletic this kid is," she thought distantly as her back crashed down into the mud, Orton's weight on top of her. He straddled her, holding her under for a while before finally pulling her head up so she could breathe. He slapped her, groped her, rubbed mud in her face and hair. Nothing very physically painful, but the degradation cut like knives. Finally he stopped, and yanked her to her feet.
Lita stood there in a bikini, soaked through with mud, she could even feel it on her lashes, weighing her eyelids down. Orton held her arms behind her, and through her blurred gaze she could see Ric Flair and Triple H, in their impeccable suits, laughing.
Her fear suddenly no longer mattered. All she felt now was the pain, the shame, and the overwhelming anger and injustice. She thought about all the threatening, the stalking, Spike hooked up to machines in a hospital bed, Tommy's brakelines being cut, all of it, and for what? "We just wanted an equal chance," she thought bitterly, and it all became too much. She lunged forward away from Orton, and slapped Triple H with her muddy palm.
His sunglasses flew off and broke, a few drops of mud splattered on his blinding white shirt and suit coat, Lita vaguely stared at a few drops clinging to a strand of his perfectly straightened hair. He stared at her, stunned, and reached one hand up to the dirty brown handprint on his face. He pulled his fingers away, repulsed by the wet dirt he examined on the end of them. His eyes snapped back up to her, and suddenly there was no more amusement or arrogance in his gaze, but only rage.
In a second they were all three upon her. Lita fell into a daze, observing the pain of their punches and kicks almost as an observer would, something separate from her. The pain was so unreal; they were all so strong and she was so alone. She heard the crowd screaming through the fog, and the blows of pain suddenly stopped. Hands were gently lifting her to her feet, gentle fingers entwined with her own. A hand brushed her mud-streaked hair away from her face, making it easier to see. Rob's eyes pleaded with hers soundlessly.
"I'm okay," she coughed out, desperate to reassure him. "I'm fine."
She tried to take a step and her knees buckled beneath her. She felt herself caught up in strong arms, and she gratefully rested her head on his shoulder, wondering vaguely if he cared about the mud that was getting all over his new airbrushed singlet. She looked to the left and saw Tommy, to the right and saw Raven. She snuggled against Rob's shoulder and let unconsciousness take her. She was safe.
As the three men began to carry their leader to the back, Bischoff appeared at the top of the ramp. "I'm sure you want to get your precious teammate back to the trainer after that grueling championship match, so I'll make this short," he mocked. "Raven, I can tell we really didn't use you well enough before, so I came up with a great idea to night. At Summerslam, the fight for the World Championship is going to be a Triple Threat, Tommy Dreamer vs. Raven vs. Triple H. That'll be all," he smiled and disappeared backstage again.
When Lita woke up backstage, she was being hovered over by a trainer and she was clean. "A welcome change," she thought. At realizing she was back with them, Rob, Tommy, and Raven materialized at her side. After making sure she was okay and vowing death upon Evolution next week, they informed her of what Bischoff had decreed while she was out. Lita shook her head with a sigh.
"Guys, he's trying to reawaken your old rivalry. You can't let that happen. Bischoff sees this as punishment, I see it as an opportunity. Between the two of you, you could maim Triple H, totally take him out. And since it'll be in a match, Bischoff can't do anything about it. After he's out of the picture, you two fight for the belt. You fight hard, you fight clean, and you leave it all in the ring. After that, it's ECw, both of you still here, but one of you with the belt. And that'll be that."
"Agreed," Tommy said tersely, with a sidelong glance at Raven. "Agreed," Raven said quietly.
"Okay," Lita murmured weakly. "Now go on and get out of here. You too Rob," she said to his protesting. "You've got the main event with Kane tonight, and I expect to see you really take care of him. You got it?"
"I'm not leaving you," he stressed each word forcefully. "I'll be fine," she assured him. "Evolution is long gone, and they won't dare show their faces tonight. There's too many of us and they're too afraid of all of you. And as far as I know, they're the only people I need to worry about. So go get ready for your match with Kane, I'll get dressed, grab my things, and duck out early back to the hotel. Fair enough?"
"Fine," he shrugged. "I can't tell you what to do, but..." he kissed her forehead shyly. "Be careful. I don't know what I - we would do if something happened to you."
"I'll be fine," she said again. "Now get out there."
Rob nodded and headed for the door. Lita wrapped the cozy robe the trainer had wisely put on over her skimpy bikini more closely around herself and headed out for the lockerroom, looking sideways around corners and jumping at every little noise the whole time. Her entire body ached, and she could only hope her bruises would significantly fade before next week's show. Though what had happened tonight had marked her on a much deeper level.
Lita locked the door of the lockerroom and sighed as she dropped the robe to the floor and began to go through her bag for her street clothes. She was so distracted by thoughts of other dangers that she didn't notice the huge figure slumped in the shadowy back corner of the room.
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Mwahaha! What shall happen now? If I didn't have to head for my weightlifting class now, I'd go ahead and write the next chapter but, alas. Anyway, please let me know what you think, and I'll try to have Chapter 12 ready tomorrow.
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Lita stared across the ring...well...kiddie pool of mud at her opponent Terri Runnels. She knew something was very wrong, and not just the match itself. Bischoff wouldn't put her in a match she could easily win, not even something this degrading, without something up his sleeve. So what was he planning? And where the hell was the ref, anyway?
She got answers to both questions when Evolution's music hit. Randy Orton walked down the ramp in his usual tights and a black-and-white striped shirt.
Lita steeled her gaze on him, neither one breaking their eye contact. Terri took this as an opportunity to jump the women's champion. For her attempts, she received a Litabomb and a quick pin. Lita looked over at Orton, standing with arms crossed, refusing to make the count. Terri struggled and flailed under the mud, and not wanting to be a murderer by drowning, Lita let her up. Terri streaked up the ramp in a mud-covered blur, forgetting the women's title in favor of saving her life. Lita stood, waiting for Orton to make his move.
When he made his leap, it was must faster than she was expecting, and Lita wasn't prepared for it. "I forgot how athletic this kid is," she thought distantly as her back crashed down into the mud, Orton's weight on top of her. He straddled her, holding her under for a while before finally pulling her head up so she could breathe. He slapped her, groped her, rubbed mud in her face and hair. Nothing very physically painful, but the degradation cut like knives. Finally he stopped, and yanked her to her feet.
Lita stood there in a bikini, soaked through with mud, she could even feel it on her lashes, weighing her eyelids down. Orton held her arms behind her, and through her blurred gaze she could see Ric Flair and Triple H, in their impeccable suits, laughing.
Her fear suddenly no longer mattered. All she felt now was the pain, the shame, and the overwhelming anger and injustice. She thought about all the threatening, the stalking, Spike hooked up to machines in a hospital bed, Tommy's brakelines being cut, all of it, and for what? "We just wanted an equal chance," she thought bitterly, and it all became too much. She lunged forward away from Orton, and slapped Triple H with her muddy palm.
His sunglasses flew off and broke, a few drops of mud splattered on his blinding white shirt and suit coat, Lita vaguely stared at a few drops clinging to a strand of his perfectly straightened hair. He stared at her, stunned, and reached one hand up to the dirty brown handprint on his face. He pulled his fingers away, repulsed by the wet dirt he examined on the end of them. His eyes snapped back up to her, and suddenly there was no more amusement or arrogance in his gaze, but only rage.
In a second they were all three upon her. Lita fell into a daze, observing the pain of their punches and kicks almost as an observer would, something separate from her. The pain was so unreal; they were all so strong and she was so alone. She heard the crowd screaming through the fog, and the blows of pain suddenly stopped. Hands were gently lifting her to her feet, gentle fingers entwined with her own. A hand brushed her mud-streaked hair away from her face, making it easier to see. Rob's eyes pleaded with hers soundlessly.
"I'm okay," she coughed out, desperate to reassure him. "I'm fine."
She tried to take a step and her knees buckled beneath her. She felt herself caught up in strong arms, and she gratefully rested her head on his shoulder, wondering vaguely if he cared about the mud that was getting all over his new airbrushed singlet. She looked to the left and saw Tommy, to the right and saw Raven. She snuggled against Rob's shoulder and let unconsciousness take her. She was safe.
As the three men began to carry their leader to the back, Bischoff appeared at the top of the ramp. "I'm sure you want to get your precious teammate back to the trainer after that grueling championship match, so I'll make this short," he mocked. "Raven, I can tell we really didn't use you well enough before, so I came up with a great idea to night. At Summerslam, the fight for the World Championship is going to be a Triple Threat, Tommy Dreamer vs. Raven vs. Triple H. That'll be all," he smiled and disappeared backstage again.
When Lita woke up backstage, she was being hovered over by a trainer and she was clean. "A welcome change," she thought. At realizing she was back with them, Rob, Tommy, and Raven materialized at her side. After making sure she was okay and vowing death upon Evolution next week, they informed her of what Bischoff had decreed while she was out. Lita shook her head with a sigh.
"Guys, he's trying to reawaken your old rivalry. You can't let that happen. Bischoff sees this as punishment, I see it as an opportunity. Between the two of you, you could maim Triple H, totally take him out. And since it'll be in a match, Bischoff can't do anything about it. After he's out of the picture, you two fight for the belt. You fight hard, you fight clean, and you leave it all in the ring. After that, it's ECw, both of you still here, but one of you with the belt. And that'll be that."
"Agreed," Tommy said tersely, with a sidelong glance at Raven. "Agreed," Raven said quietly.
"Okay," Lita murmured weakly. "Now go on and get out of here. You too Rob," she said to his protesting. "You've got the main event with Kane tonight, and I expect to see you really take care of him. You got it?"
"I'm not leaving you," he stressed each word forcefully. "I'll be fine," she assured him. "Evolution is long gone, and they won't dare show their faces tonight. There's too many of us and they're too afraid of all of you. And as far as I know, they're the only people I need to worry about. So go get ready for your match with Kane, I'll get dressed, grab my things, and duck out early back to the hotel. Fair enough?"
"Fine," he shrugged. "I can't tell you what to do, but..." he kissed her forehead shyly. "Be careful. I don't know what I - we would do if something happened to you."
"I'll be fine," she said again. "Now get out there."
Rob nodded and headed for the door. Lita wrapped the cozy robe the trainer had wisely put on over her skimpy bikini more closely around herself and headed out for the lockerroom, looking sideways around corners and jumping at every little noise the whole time. Her entire body ached, and she could only hope her bruises would significantly fade before next week's show. Though what had happened tonight had marked her on a much deeper level.
Lita locked the door of the lockerroom and sighed as she dropped the robe to the floor and began to go through her bag for her street clothes. She was so distracted by thoughts of other dangers that she didn't notice the huge figure slumped in the shadowy back corner of the room.
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Mwahaha! What shall happen now? If I didn't have to head for my weightlifting class now, I'd go ahead and write the next chapter but, alas. Anyway, please let me know what you think, and I'll try to have Chapter 12 ready tomorrow.