Post by saintdane05 on Jul 29, 2017 0:35:45 GMT
His name is Daniel Collins.
Rebecca Strummer never really studied tape for her matches. About 75% of that was pure arrogance on her part; she considered herself good enough that she could beat anyone on the planet, and half of them with her eyes shut. Her record was enough to show that, at least outside of GCW, was solid enough to prove that. But she went out on her back in that last match, and she had no idea how that happened. She remembered waking up back in the Arena’s nurse’s office, though she was told she managed to at least walk backstage before collapsing.. So she went on the GCW network (only $9.99!) and watched a replay of The One. Well, at least the last match. She need to sleep sometime tonight.
It was a treat to see herself fight, she had to admit. When Callie tapped, Rebecca remembered that warm feeling that came with every tapout returned to her, if only slightly. She made a mental note to save that clip for later, along with when she took out JJ. But the long staredown with Jensen was when a pit in her stomach began to rise, and when she saw the man on the apron with a chair she wanted to pause it. But she had to see it for herself, know what happened. So she saw the chairshot, right to the back. She saw herself get pinned (a phantom pressure was on her shoulders afterward, and Rebecca felt like vomiting. Her zombie like stumble to the back, and collapsing just as the camera cut away. She could hear Terry Kohls voice echo in her mind after she turned the TV off. “Daniel Collins just damn near knocked Rebecca out cold!”
His name is Daniel Collins.
After taking a shower, Rebecca went and watched more of Daniel’s matches. This prey was special to her, and now she wanted to know everything about him before she sunk her teeth into him. He was the Hardcore Champion and frequent tag partner of the recently retired El Masko. The word target flared in her mind a few times. There was an opportunity.
The more she saw of Daniel Collins, the more she hated him. She hated his laugh, his demeanor, the very way he talked and smiled. Everything about his pretty face disgusted her. After hearing him say the word justice she threw the remote at the TV, breaking both. Fucking fuck, she hated that word for a variety of reasons. And hearing his disgusting voice say it made her want to scratch her own ears off. It was awful, simply awful. She ended up taking another shower, blaring music from her phone that could drown out the echoes of his voice.
When she lied down in bed, he hadn’t gone away.
His name is Daniel Collins, and he was a dead man walking.
Rebecca Strummer never really studied tape for her matches. About 75% of that was pure arrogance on her part; she considered herself good enough that she could beat anyone on the planet, and half of them with her eyes shut. Her record was enough to show that, at least outside of GCW, was solid enough to prove that. But she went out on her back in that last match, and she had no idea how that happened. She remembered waking up back in the Arena’s nurse’s office, though she was told she managed to at least walk backstage before collapsing.. So she went on the GCW network (only $9.99!) and watched a replay of The One. Well, at least the last match. She need to sleep sometime tonight.
It was a treat to see herself fight, she had to admit. When Callie tapped, Rebecca remembered that warm feeling that came with every tapout returned to her, if only slightly. She made a mental note to save that clip for later, along with when she took out JJ. But the long staredown with Jensen was when a pit in her stomach began to rise, and when she saw the man on the apron with a chair she wanted to pause it. But she had to see it for herself, know what happened. So she saw the chairshot, right to the back. She saw herself get pinned (a phantom pressure was on her shoulders afterward, and Rebecca felt like vomiting. Her zombie like stumble to the back, and collapsing just as the camera cut away. She could hear Terry Kohls voice echo in her mind after she turned the TV off. “Daniel Collins just damn near knocked Rebecca out cold!”
His name is Daniel Collins.
After taking a shower, Rebecca went and watched more of Daniel’s matches. This prey was special to her, and now she wanted to know everything about him before she sunk her teeth into him. He was the Hardcore Champion and frequent tag partner of the recently retired El Masko. The word target flared in her mind a few times. There was an opportunity.
The more she saw of Daniel Collins, the more she hated him. She hated his laugh, his demeanor, the very way he talked and smiled. Everything about his pretty face disgusted her. After hearing him say the word justice she threw the remote at the TV, breaking both. Fucking fuck, she hated that word for a variety of reasons. And hearing his disgusting voice say it made her want to scratch her own ears off. It was awful, simply awful. She ended up taking another shower, blaring music from her phone that could drown out the echoes of his voice.
When she lied down in bed, he hadn’t gone away.
His name is Daniel Collins, and he was a dead man walking.
