Seducing Judgment Day
By Kellyanne Higgins
10/31/24 – 11/5/24
Summary: What real evil hides beneath the story to explain what happened to Rhea? You can decide if this is a sequel to Terror Reign.
Disclaimer: This fic is for entertainment purposes only. It's a product of my talent that doesn't generate income. Don't believe a bloody word.
Rhea stepped outside wearing a black hoodie with leggings and a pale blue face mask the morning after the attack. She pulled the hood over her head, most of the material drooping over her features. She went to meet with the execs, following the light – her world a fog of dimming features. She knew they knew, and she didn't know what else there was to say even if she had words.
She stood before them and pulled off her hood and mask. She felt the room shutter. She knew that multi-year contract they were eagerly negotiating would never see the light of day. No way in bloody hell could they keep her on the roster with such a grotesque face change. She would like to think that her belief that beauty lies within would carry her through moments like this. But she sensed the change in the air after they saw her shredded face. She heard their abrupt and fearful tones. She knew the execs couldn't stomach having her come in again without anyone saying so. Instead, they focused on scrambling to spin the storyline, knowing the truth was too horrifying for the execs to air – even if they had legit video footage.
Rhea's Monday Night Raw promo was just clips from discarded footage for an old spot. She knew even before Triple H told her that they would play up the rivalry between her and her great mates again. Liv and Raquel would take the fall – the public conviction of assault and battery. Those who were close to the situation knew the real culprit but dared not breathe a word even amongst themselves.
And so The Powers That Be lowered her broken body beside a shiny blue rental. They covered his near fatal flaw with fake blood. This blood was too gruesome for TV, but it was heaps better than the carved flesh beneath the scarlet pools.
Liv knelt beside her. Rhea knew it was her mate for sure, although vision could only capture blurry forms and select colors. But Rhea knew that form on so many levels – Liv's bubbly, dark chocolate cherry aroma and soft hum when she murmured wordlessly to herself. Rhea knew how Liv's energy felt, even when significantly drained from life or match. Rhea knew the tickle on the back of her neck had to be Liv's Prada necklace, as Liv reached across her frame. Rhea felt the sticky warmth of fake blood.
Liv's frayed nerves reverberated. Rhea felt more than saw Liv suck in her lower lip. Rhea felt the warmth of her mate's embrace. "It's not your fault," came Liv's whisper through faint sniffling. Rhea saw the tears on her mate's face only through her mind's eye. "We knew we were playing with fire."
Rhea heard the clunk of what sounded like baseball bats mid-game. She heard feet shuffling. And she heard Liv's fake ass cackle, in sharp contrast of anguish she sensed in Liv even as her friend walked away.
Rhea felt herself losing touch. Her limited sights narrowed to nothingness, then sharpened and burst into full color upon an existence within the construct of her broken mind. She felt hands on her neck and horror singing her veins as she fought for smothered breath. None was to be had. Sights failing her, she focused on the assailant, the looming figure of one who used to protect her. Now the cold of his leer chilled her core save her heart, which still yearned for him and his care – even now as he casually closed his fingers around her throat. For South of Heaven? He pulsed his fingers, widening eyes locked on hers as head lifted.
"Tu eres la cambra," He rumbled. "Eres la mas grande de todos los tiempos," he rumbled. "Tu debes ser el sacrificio. He choke-slammed her to the pavement.
Rhea cried out as her body hit the ground, her spine as a twig trembling. She writhed. She rolled, limbs out and flailing in frantic self-defense as fists pummeled her, one right after the other. Her scalding arms failed and too fell victim to his ferocious staccato – blood flying, bones snapping, life fading. And to see his sneer while he beat her juxtaposed with the memory of his smile and gentle touch. He broke both arms and drove his attacks into her head. She could no longer see. She could only feel her face on fire, flesh slashed and yanked from bone. She could only hear her hoarse wailing and his feral growl.
"Please," she shrieked, gasping and sobbing. "Luis!" her voice cracked. "Luis!"
"No," he roared. He pressed his thumb hard on her throat, and she choked. "It's Damian!" He bashed her upside the head, knocking her out.
When she came to, she could only hear Dom's sobbing. No matter how she fought her eyes to open, she could no longer see.
"Please," he said. "Hurry! Buddy, it doesn't look good…" he gasped. "She's awake!"
She tried to speak, but battered vocal cords could only heave a strained grunt. Her voice and words failed her.
"Let me talk to her!" she heard Buddy's distant tinny voice.
Rhea pushed herself to speak but only emitted labored grunts.
She heard Dom's gasp. "!En la madre!" he cried. "She can't talk."
We pushed his passion
We fed his greed
We tempted him
With souls to bleed
We teased the dark side
Set crumbs to our fate
Fed lust to indulge
The garb of Damian
Our fatal omen
In the cloak of Priest
For our sins
We will never be released
He passes judgment
No concealment
We need a savior
Who is strong and true
Who will sleigh the beast
With mercy and virtue
We're all found wanting
Especially me
So for my wrongs
I'll be the sacrifice
You're ravishing
The right side of me
Stripping my trust
My sense of relief
Strength is fading
My blood on your hands
You're smiling down
You condescend
The hands that
Once cradled me
Sets me ablaze
I choke on this,
Our Judgment Day
"Rhea!" cried out Adam Pearce on the set of the NXT parking lot. She shuddered… Then? Now? Either place, she lost her voice. She lay there, unable to move in her broken state.
Forgiveness from Rhea didn't come easily, but for Damian… She loved him ridiculously. Even if he had a passion for brutal sadism. Especially because she needed forgiveness more than he did for bringing out the monster.