The Goldan Jackal and The Silver Falcon
by The Cajun Phoenix
A/N: I'm back. Want to see what unfolds? Keep reading.
Remy Silver
Maryl ignored the cuts and scratches she sustained on her right arm and the gash below her left elbow during her match with Michelle McCool because her outrage over being blatantly insulted in the back enabled her to pummel and decimate Michelle in spite of the cut that was bleeding from her arm. But once the adrenaline wore off, it was all Maryl could do to not scream in agony.
"What a sick-looking gash!" exclaimed Dolph Ziggler, who had seen Maryl make her way backstage after her match. His blond hair was slicked down on the sides.
"Whose? The one on my arm or the one on Michelle McFool's conceited slutty head?" Maryl asked coldly as she edged her way past him, barely avoiding contact with his black-and-white leopard-print vest and gaudy pink and black trunks.
When Maryl spat her words about Michelle, the Superstar's face turned bright red with anger. But she ignored him and continued on her way.
"Did you see what happened to Michelle's face?" opening match Superstar Slam Master J asked. His blond hair was braided in tight cornrows, and he wore a white A-shirt, black cargos, and several silver necklaces.
"Never mind Michelle's face, " argued Jimmy Wang Yang, who was dressed in a black cowboy hat, a white A-shirt, and black jeans. "Who's the girl with the T-shirt, Daisy Dukes (1.), and stockings? Is she a fan or somebody's girlfriend?"
"I've never seen her around here, but I'd love to get her phone number!" a bling-wearing African-American Superstar wearing tight cornrows, a studded black leather jacket, black cargos, and black Timberlands said about Maryl.
"If she doesn't knock you on your ass first, JTG, " said a massive African-American Superstar with tight cornrows, a white A-shirt, a black baseball cap, several gold necklaces, faded stonewashed jeans, and tan Timberland boots. "She really did a number on Michelle's face during their match."
"Yeah, sure she did, Shad, " JTG wisecracked, twirling the chain of his gold money clenched in a fist pendant on his finger.
Maryl wasn't thinking about their conversations or their remarks about her. Her thoughts kept centering on the new Superstar she saw in Gorilla before her match with Michelle and its aftermath.
Who IS that pretty new kid with those tattoos on his shoulders and back?
Then Maryl realized she never got a good look at the young man's face, so she had no idea who he was or where he came from. But she decided to watch this young man's in-ring debut from one of the backstage monitors before she bandaged the cuts on her arm.
I don't even know if he's single or not. All I know is I might not rest unless and until I see this little high-flying hottie again.
She was lucky to find a TV monitor and watched Dolph Ziggler strut his way into the ring clad in a black-and-white leopard-print vest and pink and black trunks with the Intercontinental title in his hand.
That's the same vest I saw when he made that comment about the gash. But was he refering to this cut on my arm or the one on WWE's resident cockslut Michelle McFool?
Maryl's mouth twitched in disgust over the way Dolph flaunted his title because she thought Dolph was an undeserving champion just as she thought Michelle McCool was an undeserving Women's Champion.
Who's your opponent gonna be, you conceited Diva-dumping scumfucker?
"And introducing his opponent, " continued Tony Chimel, "From Biloxi, Mississippi-REMY SILVER!"
Rev Theory's "Light It Up" was Remy's theme song, and as his theme song blared, Maryl could see him make his entrance as he stood on the stage while he was enveloped in an alternating, flickering strobe of blue light and green light.
She also noticed Remy had the same butterfly-and-scrawls design on his chest, his lean, lithe thighs, and his equally lean and lithe calves. He also wore a silver navel bar identical to Maryl's, and he also sported several pairs of silver earrings. His pale ash blond hair hung in long, lank, asymmetrical layers that framed his deceptively lean face. His entrance consisted of his running his left hand over his hair before flipping his head backward and making his way to the ring.
The pose he pulled off behind the ring ropes reminded Maryl of the pose a popular rock-and-roll superstar might pull off from his tilted head to his intense gaze toward infinity. Only Remy wasn't holding a guitar in his hands when he posed for the WWE Universe.
Maryl couldn't hear Matt and Todd comment on the match between Remy and Dolph. She couldn't even open her mouth to scream or speak. The only thing she could see was Remy outflanking and outwrestling Dolph with a breathtaking combination of high-flying moves, martial arts moves, and technical skill. When she watched Remy leap off the turnbuckle and level Dolph with a mid-air kick similar to former WWE Superstar Jeff Hardy's Whisper in the Wind, it was all she could do to restrain a breathless gasp of amazement.
It's painfully obvious that's nothing like my beating the Unholy Hell outta Michelle McFool. Do those assholes really expect me to fight like the prissy little baby dolls they think all the WWE Divas are? They're in for a shock the next time I get in the ring!
She saw Dolph duck under a karate kick before he missed with the Zig-Zag. Remy answered with a body blow to Dolph's belly and a running spear to his torso before he leveled the conceited I-C Champion with the Silver Arrow, a sick-looking sit-out facebuster similar to her Goldan Guillotine in that it began with a boxing body blow but that body blow was followed up with a kick to the gut instead of a low blow to the groin or thigh. The other difference between her Goldan Guillotine and his Silver Arrow was there was no taunting gesture before Remy lifted Dolph into the air, spun his and Dolph's bodies at a right angle, and dropped him face-first onto the mat, pinning him for three seconds.
"Here is your winner-Remy Silver!"
Maryl grinned faintly when she saw Dolph laid out like the conceited jobber he was. But she flinched at the cuts on her right arm and the gash below her left elbow before she trudged her way back to the Divas' Locker Room.
As she turned on the shower, she realized she might have bled on the canvas just as Michelle bled from her forehead after Maryl slammed her into the uncovered turnbuckle. She winced as the water landed on her cuts, for the water's fluorine content was enough to make even a coffee lover dump the cupful down the toilet. As she watched the dried blood and soap suds going down the drain, she also winced at the reason she was on the "SmackDown" roster in the first place.
Flashback
Maryl barely managed to untie the bindings around her wrists when she woke up.
"What the fuck-?" she muttered, groaning when she turned onto her side. Her head felt as though it had been slammed into the cage wall during one of a mixed martial artist's matches, and she felt as though she'd been thrown against the cage wall.
Only she hadn't been in a cage match. Her ungrateful and unfaithful boyfriend had beaten and raped her and she had lost enough blood to weaken her. It was all she could do to not just sink into the now-ruined carpet and call it a day.
She remembered ending her relationship with Ben and then the rest became a blood-stained haze that ended with Ben's face twisted with hatred and bitterness. This was enough to jolt her awake and she realized her wrists were free when she saw the faint red imprints the bindings left behind. Any longer and she might have ended up having her hands amputated.
"No, don't fucking black out now, " she told herself, wincing as she fumbled with the bindings around her ankles until she finally freed herself. "If that pig that violated you comes back here, you won't live through the next time he beats you to a pulp."
She crawled onto her stomach, feeling as alone as she had when Ben stole her car and used it to pick up his ring rats. The very thought of that made her retch. It was all she could do to crawl towards the toilet, for she felt as though all the bones had been surgically removed from her legs.
Ben's blatant disrespect for her feelings was disgusting in its own right. But leaving her bleeding and ravaged on the bedroom floor was the final blow for her. It had shattered something inside her that could never be repaired.
She bitterly recalled how she and Ben first met at her sporting goods store Goldan's Gloves. He had asked her where the boxing gloves and speed bags were on display, and things went on from there.
"This was when I realized just how much I loved you and obviously I thought you loved me just as much, " she reflected miserably.
But as it all sunk in for her that the Ben who raped her and left a battered and bleeding wreck in his wake was not the Ben she had once fallen in love with, she left behind bitter yellowish green bile and could barely pull down the handle to flush it away.
Her female silver Cairn terrier Neveah had cowered in the corner during the bitter fight between Maryl and Ben. This was because Neveah hated Ben for abusing her owner so horribly and the little dog would growl and snap at Ben whenever he tried to hit Maryl. Now the tiny dog edged closer to the barely-moving Maryl and whined to get her owner's attention.
A completely drained Maryl managed a weak smile as Neveah nuzzled her left hand. This was because Neveah never failed to look after Maryl in spite of her diminutive size. Whenever Ben had treated Maryl so badly, Neveah would try to defend her owner. This was another reason for Maryl's decision to kick Ben to the curb. He tried to force her to get rid of Neveah and she refused to give up her beloved dog. As far as Maryl was concerned, Neveah was more deserving of her loyalty than Ben was, especially when he refused to give up those worthless ring rats he wanted to go to bed with so badly.
After all the times Ben disrespected her by bringing his ring rats through her apartment even after she refused to accept them as guests, why should she have to put her body on the line for Ben's ungrateful ass now? How much of herself did she really owe her now-former boyfriend anyway? Was it more than she owed herself?
Tears stung Maryl's eyes as she pulled herself onto her legs before she eased Neveah onto her lap. After Ben continued to bring in ring rat after ring rat even though Maryl refused to welcome them into her apartment, how should he have expected her to react? Did he really not expect Maryl to be bitter and jealous? Did he not expect her to beat up his ring rats so badly that they wouldn't be in any condition to harass the fighters? Did he really expect her to just stand there and act as if nothing was wrong?
No. She shook her head as emphatically as she could muster, cradling the tiny dog in her arms. The next time Ben showed up at her apartment, he'd find out the hard way what the Latin phrase persona non grata really meant!
There was no way she would ever forgive Ben, now that he chose to abandon her for the ring rats he longed to sleep with.
Still holding Neveah in her arms, she barely heard the incessant knocking at her front door.
End of Flashback
Her shower over, Maryl got dressed and grabbed her bag, resigning herself to the long drive to the airport. But she almost dropped her bag onto her feet when she caught a swinging door right in her chin.
"Ouch! Watch where you swing that door, " she snarled, grabbing her chin and whipping around to glare at whoever hit her in her chin by swinging that door. But she almost froze when she saw who emerged from behind the door.
"I'm sorry, " the young man said when he saw Maryl's bulging eyes and rapidly-reddening lower jaw. By now, her chin sustained a narrow cut that started to bleed.
"Wha-what the fuck happened to my face?" she gasped once she realized her chin felt wet.
Instead of answering, he used an antiseptic wipe to mop up the cut on Maryl's chin. He then bandaged Maryl's chin with a bandage smeared with antiseptic cream.
"Does the bandage help?"
"Yeah. Thanks."
As Maryl got a good look at the young man's lean and intense face, she quickly recognized who he was in spite of his street clothes, which were a black-and-white dragon-print T-shirt and black jeans. Faint beard stubble covered the youth's chin, cheeks, and upper lip, and equally intense aquamarine eyes stared back.
"So you're the kid who stood with his back to me in Gorilla, " she said once she saw who he was.
"Well, you're the one who knocked Michelle to the floor, " the young man said when he got his first full-frontal view of Maryl. (2.)
"She slammed me against the lockers head-first, " Maryl said, not taking her eyes off the young man, "so what I did to her is self-defense."
"Is it?"
"Unless you plan to testify to that in open court, " she said defiantly as she continued to size up the lithe blond who looked at her askance, "I don't see you being a witness to what she tried to do to me."
The young man looked at Maryl for a few moments. He had never seen Maryl before, so he had no idea who she was or where she came from either.
"What did you say your name was?" he asked.
"I didn't, " she said, her wary gaze softening just enough to allow the young man to get a better view of her face without wincing, "it's Maryl." (3.)
"Hey, Remy, who's the girl with the bandage on her face?" asked a soft, almost drawling male voice just behind Maryl. When she turned around, she found herself face-to-face with a black-haired, medium-sized Superstar in electric purple, silver, and black tights with the initials "MH" on the front and back and keys on the legs. He stood mere inches taller than the young blond and almost a full foot taller than she was.
"Remy? Your name is Remy?" she asked. The slim blond nodded.
"Matt, say hello to Maryl, " Remy said after a few more awkward moments.
Maryl looked at Matt, but she merely shook his hand since her mouth had gone too dry for her to even mutter a greeting.
"That's a really nice-looking necklace you're wearing-Maryl, " Matt said, swallowing nervously as he noticed the designs on each pendant she fitted onto her necklace. She soon recognized who the dark-haired Superstar was-Matt Hardy.
"Most people usually wear one necklace at a time, " he continued, taking the silver "HB" pendant into one of his meaty hands before having a feel at the other pendants on her necklace. "But you're not most people when it's time to pick out which necklace to wear."
Now it was Maryl's turn to be nervous. Was Matt going to rip her necklace off her neck? Or would he have at least one copy of her necklace made?
"I'm pleased you like my necklace's design-Matt, " she said as she straightened her necklace.
Maryl found a carelessly folded slip of paper next to her booted feet. She unfolded the paper and read it: Remy Silver and his cell phone number. She copied down this information into her black-and-gold day planner/address book. But Remy had already left.
A/N: I thought it would be really cool to have the WWE Divas bleed in this story since the WWE's TV-PG rating takes all the fun out of watching the matches. I chose to reveal Remy's identity here rather than in "First Night." And I chose to have Maryl and Remy meet backstage rather than in a barroom or in a movie theater.
(1.) Reference to the shorts worn by outlaw cousins Luke Duke's and Bo Duke's attractive cousin Daisy Duke in the classic TV series "The Dukes of Hazard" [I do not own "The Dukes of Hazard."] except when the weather is too cold or for more formal occasions. This is something Daisy Duke has in common with WWE Hall of Famer "Stone Cold" Steve Austin. The difference is Stone Cold's shorts reach his knees and Daisy Duke's shorts reach the top of her thighs.
(2.) Reference to the scene in the movie "Look Who's Talking" [I do not own "Look Who's Talking."] where single mother Molly, who is frustrated with her smart-alecky son Mikey's married deadbeat sperm donor Albert, gets to meet her son for the first time after James the cab driver makes like Evel Knievel (RIP, Knievel) and gets her to the emergency room before she ends up giving birth to Mikey in the cab.
(3.) Reference to the scene in the movie "Stormy Monday" [I do not own "Stormy Monday."] before the hard-as-nails nightclub owner Finney hires the jazz fan Brendan as a janitor for his nightclub The Key Club.