Post by Robb (Owner) on Oct 26, 2024 13:08:19 GMT -8
The knock at the door was heavy, commanding — a sound that tore through the quiet of La Huracán Famosa’s hidden apartment. No one came here. She made sure of it. But as she swung open the door, her heart dropped. Standing on the other side was Ozzie Savell, a man whose presence alone felt like a threat. He wore his typical expression, a smug smirk barely concealing something darker beneath the surface.
“La Huracán Famosa, huh?” he said, his voice thick with a taunting, lazy kind of amusement. “Or should I call you… well, whatever your real name is?” His eyes flicked briefly to her exposed face, taking in the features that the mask had hidden all this time. The look he gave her made her feel like he’d stripped away every layer of her secrecy with just a glance.
She immediately reached up as if to cover her face, her fingers trembling. “How did you find me? And what are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice sharp, trying to steady herself against the sudden threat of exposure.
Ozzie tilted his head, that grin twisting into something colder. “Come on, sweetheart, did you really think you could keep that little secret forever? My family… we know how to find things, important things. Like your connection to Nightfall.” He leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms as he watched her, every inch the picture of calm. “And more importantly, I know exactly what it would mean if people found out your real identity. The cartel, for example… they’d be delighted to know where you are. Think of it as a gift I could give them.”
Her heart was racing, and fear was clear in her eyes as she struggled to keep her voice steady. “Why? Why would you want to do this to me? What have I done to deserve this?”
“Oh, it’s not about you personally,” he replied with a dismissive wave, like she was little more than a piece on a game board. “But Julian… he has plans, you see. We’re here to make sure Nightfall doesn’t get any stronger. And when we heard that they’d planned to choose you?” He chuckled, a low, menacing sound. “It became my job to make sure that doesn’t happen. You’re too good, too disciplined. You’d be a huge asset to them, but if you disappear now…” He shrugged. “That’s one less problem for us to deal with.”
Her fists clenched, her voice cracking as she tried to find strength in the midst of her terror. “This is… This is a sport, not a game of life or death! I came here to make something of myself, to prove that I can carry on my father’s legacy, not to be dragged into your family’s petty revenge!”
Ozzie’s eyes flashed with a dangerous light, and he took a step closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “You think this is just about a sport? My brother, my family — we’re shaping the future of this business. We don’t leave things to chance, and we don’t let people stand in our way. So let’s get one thing clear…” His smile twisted, a final, sinister curve to his lips as he spoke, his words driving each nail into her hope. “If you don’t disappear, I’ll make sure everyone knows who you are. And then? You’ll have far more to worry about than a wrestling career. You’ll be running for your life.”
The words hung in the air, a bitter chill spreading through her heart. She looked down, her hands shaking as she absorbed the full weight of what he was saying. She had worked so hard, sacrificed so much to get to this point, to escape the shadow of her past and make something of herself. And now, in one twisted moment, Ozzie was threatening to take it all away.
As he turned to leave, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder with a smirk. “Disappear, sweetheart. Or I’ll make sure you regret staying.”
La Huracán Famosa stood frozen as the door clicked shut, the echo lingering in the silence of her apartment. She could still feel the shadow of Ozzie's presence, his words like a poison slowly sinking into her thoughts. She gripped the edge of the table beside her, the strength in her legs waning as she replayed his threats over and over.
“Disappear,” he’d said. Leave everything. Her dreams, her future in wrestling, the one path she’d carved out of nothing, all reduced to ashes by a man who seemed to view her life as nothing more than an obstacle to clear.
For a moment, her gaze flicked to the mask lying on the table nearby, her fingers grazing its edge. That mask, the very symbol of her father’s legacy, of the strength and identity she had claimed in his name. Her father had sacrificed everything to protect their family from the cartel, to give her the chance to live. And now Ozzie Savell was threatening to drag her back to that nightmare.
A tear slipped down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away, anger simmering beneath the surface. Who did he think he was, coming here and holding her dreams hostage? This was her life, her fight. She’d trained for years, pushed herself beyond her limits, endured loss and fear and isolation, all to honor her father and the legacy he left behind.
But now, as much as she tried to summon that courage, the weight of Ozzie’s threat lingered. If the cartel found her, everything she had worked for would be over in an instant — and not just her dreams, but her life itself. There was no way she could wrestle under the constant threat of looking over her shoulder, wondering if every crowd hid someone sent to take her out.
Another tear fell, and her hand clenched around the mask, the pain in her chest growing. She looked down at the symbol of her father’s sacrifice, the reminder of why she fought so hard. Leaving meant walking away from that legacy, from everything she had worked to become. But staying meant risking it all in a different way, a way she’d spent years running from.
The phone on her counter buzzed, snapping her out of her spiral. A message from Chris Night. Her recruitment into Nightfall would be announced soon; they were waiting for her final confirmation. She felt a lump in her throat as she stared at the screen.
Closing her eyes, she took a shaky breath, trying to gather herself. Ozzie’s words echoed again in her mind, haunting and hollow. “Disappear, or I’ll make sure you regret staying.”
For the first time, she felt truly trapped — caught between the legacy she longed to fulfill and the threat of a life cut short if she dared to keep fighting.
La Huracán Famosa stared down at her phone, the words on the screen blurring as her vision grew misty. The message from Chris Night felt like a cruel reminder, taunting her with the very future she’d dreamed of. But Ozzie's threat was undeniable — as much as it pained her, he had forced her into a corner with no escape.
Slowly, she picked up the mask again, her fingers tracing its worn edges. She remembered the first time she’d put it on, the weight of her father’s legacy settling onto her shoulders. It had felt like both a burden and a blessing, a testament to the life he had fought for, the life she wanted to honor. But how could she honor him if she was constantly running for her life, if she was forced to hide in the shadows, always looking over her shoulder?
Leaving Nightfall and The Crucible wasn’t just a loss; it was a wound that cut deeply, severing her connection to the all of the only people she had known since her father’s passing. But she could still carry on his legacy, she thought, even if it meant leaving the country, leaving behind the very place where she had first dared to dream.
Maybe there were places far enough, hidden enough, where Ozzie’s reach wouldn’t extend. Somewhere she could still wrestle under the mask, far from the cartel, far from the likes of the Savell family. Mexico had been her home once, but maybe it was time to go further — somewhere she could disappear and start anew. Japan, perhaps, or Europe. Somewhere the mask could continue to protect her identity and allow her to keep her father’s spirit alive in her own way.
A new wave of resolve washed over her, mingling with the sorrow. She would leave, but not in defeat. No one could strip her of her heritage, her love for wrestling, or the strength she had inherited from her father. She would take his mask and her dreams with her, finding a way to fight in a place where no one could dictate her fate or threaten her life.
She stood taller, holding the mask tightly as if drawing strength from it. With one last look around the apartment that had been her sanctuary, she whispered a soft goodbye to the life she’d known here. Her heart ached, but she knew what she had to do.
Turning off her phone, she packed her things with quiet determination. She would leave, find a place where she could wrestle freely and live without fear. Somewhere far from Ozzie, far from the cartel, and far from anyone who could control her life again. She’d forge her own path, honoring her father in the way she had always intended, even if it meant doing it a world away.
“La Huracán Famosa, huh?” he said, his voice thick with a taunting, lazy kind of amusement. “Or should I call you… well, whatever your real name is?” His eyes flicked briefly to her exposed face, taking in the features that the mask had hidden all this time. The look he gave her made her feel like he’d stripped away every layer of her secrecy with just a glance.
She immediately reached up as if to cover her face, her fingers trembling. “How did you find me? And what are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice sharp, trying to steady herself against the sudden threat of exposure.
Ozzie tilted his head, that grin twisting into something colder. “Come on, sweetheart, did you really think you could keep that little secret forever? My family… we know how to find things, important things. Like your connection to Nightfall.” He leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms as he watched her, every inch the picture of calm. “And more importantly, I know exactly what it would mean if people found out your real identity. The cartel, for example… they’d be delighted to know where you are. Think of it as a gift I could give them.”
Her heart was racing, and fear was clear in her eyes as she struggled to keep her voice steady. “Why? Why would you want to do this to me? What have I done to deserve this?”
“Oh, it’s not about you personally,” he replied with a dismissive wave, like she was little more than a piece on a game board. “But Julian… he has plans, you see. We’re here to make sure Nightfall doesn’t get any stronger. And when we heard that they’d planned to choose you?” He chuckled, a low, menacing sound. “It became my job to make sure that doesn’t happen. You’re too good, too disciplined. You’d be a huge asset to them, but if you disappear now…” He shrugged. “That’s one less problem for us to deal with.”
Her fists clenched, her voice cracking as she tried to find strength in the midst of her terror. “This is… This is a sport, not a game of life or death! I came here to make something of myself, to prove that I can carry on my father’s legacy, not to be dragged into your family’s petty revenge!”
Ozzie’s eyes flashed with a dangerous light, and he took a step closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “You think this is just about a sport? My brother, my family — we’re shaping the future of this business. We don’t leave things to chance, and we don’t let people stand in our way. So let’s get one thing clear…” His smile twisted, a final, sinister curve to his lips as he spoke, his words driving each nail into her hope. “If you don’t disappear, I’ll make sure everyone knows who you are. And then? You’ll have far more to worry about than a wrestling career. You’ll be running for your life.”
The words hung in the air, a bitter chill spreading through her heart. She looked down, her hands shaking as she absorbed the full weight of what he was saying. She had worked so hard, sacrificed so much to get to this point, to escape the shadow of her past and make something of herself. And now, in one twisted moment, Ozzie was threatening to take it all away.
As he turned to leave, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder with a smirk. “Disappear, sweetheart. Or I’ll make sure you regret staying.”
La Huracán Famosa stood frozen as the door clicked shut, the echo lingering in the silence of her apartment. She could still feel the shadow of Ozzie's presence, his words like a poison slowly sinking into her thoughts. She gripped the edge of the table beside her, the strength in her legs waning as she replayed his threats over and over.
“Disappear,” he’d said. Leave everything. Her dreams, her future in wrestling, the one path she’d carved out of nothing, all reduced to ashes by a man who seemed to view her life as nothing more than an obstacle to clear.
For a moment, her gaze flicked to the mask lying on the table nearby, her fingers grazing its edge. That mask, the very symbol of her father’s legacy, of the strength and identity she had claimed in his name. Her father had sacrificed everything to protect their family from the cartel, to give her the chance to live. And now Ozzie Savell was threatening to drag her back to that nightmare.
A tear slipped down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away, anger simmering beneath the surface. Who did he think he was, coming here and holding her dreams hostage? This was her life, her fight. She’d trained for years, pushed herself beyond her limits, endured loss and fear and isolation, all to honor her father and the legacy he left behind.
But now, as much as she tried to summon that courage, the weight of Ozzie’s threat lingered. If the cartel found her, everything she had worked for would be over in an instant — and not just her dreams, but her life itself. There was no way she could wrestle under the constant threat of looking over her shoulder, wondering if every crowd hid someone sent to take her out.
Another tear fell, and her hand clenched around the mask, the pain in her chest growing. She looked down at the symbol of her father’s sacrifice, the reminder of why she fought so hard. Leaving meant walking away from that legacy, from everything she had worked to become. But staying meant risking it all in a different way, a way she’d spent years running from.
The phone on her counter buzzed, snapping her out of her spiral. A message from Chris Night. Her recruitment into Nightfall would be announced soon; they were waiting for her final confirmation. She felt a lump in her throat as she stared at the screen.
Closing her eyes, she took a shaky breath, trying to gather herself. Ozzie’s words echoed again in her mind, haunting and hollow. “Disappear, or I’ll make sure you regret staying.”
For the first time, she felt truly trapped — caught between the legacy she longed to fulfill and the threat of a life cut short if she dared to keep fighting.
La Huracán Famosa stared down at her phone, the words on the screen blurring as her vision grew misty. The message from Chris Night felt like a cruel reminder, taunting her with the very future she’d dreamed of. But Ozzie's threat was undeniable — as much as it pained her, he had forced her into a corner with no escape.
Slowly, she picked up the mask again, her fingers tracing its worn edges. She remembered the first time she’d put it on, the weight of her father’s legacy settling onto her shoulders. It had felt like both a burden and a blessing, a testament to the life he had fought for, the life she wanted to honor. But how could she honor him if she was constantly running for her life, if she was forced to hide in the shadows, always looking over her shoulder?
Leaving Nightfall and The Crucible wasn’t just a loss; it was a wound that cut deeply, severing her connection to the all of the only people she had known since her father’s passing. But she could still carry on his legacy, she thought, even if it meant leaving the country, leaving behind the very place where she had first dared to dream.
Maybe there were places far enough, hidden enough, where Ozzie’s reach wouldn’t extend. Somewhere she could still wrestle under the mask, far from the cartel, far from the likes of the Savell family. Mexico had been her home once, but maybe it was time to go further — somewhere she could disappear and start anew. Japan, perhaps, or Europe. Somewhere the mask could continue to protect her identity and allow her to keep her father’s spirit alive in her own way.
A new wave of resolve washed over her, mingling with the sorrow. She would leave, but not in defeat. No one could strip her of her heritage, her love for wrestling, or the strength she had inherited from her father. She would take his mask and her dreams with her, finding a way to fight in a place where no one could dictate her fate or threaten her life.
She stood taller, holding the mask tightly as if drawing strength from it. With one last look around the apartment that had been her sanctuary, she whispered a soft goodbye to the life she’d known here. Her heart ached, but she knew what she had to do.
Turning off her phone, she packed her things with quiet determination. She would leave, find a place where she could wrestle freely and live without fear. Somewhere far from Ozzie, far from the cartel, and far from anyone who could control her life again. She’d forge her own path, honoring her father in the way she had always intended, even if it meant doing it a world away.