Righteous Royale Part 1
Dec 11, 2020 0:50:39 GMT -6
Deana Barrows, Jack Puffer, and 4 more like this
Post by heavenstobetsy on Dec 11, 2020 0:50:39 GMT -6
Sitting by herself in the GCWA locker rooms, Betsy tapes her fists and prepares herself for her bout. That is until someone comes up behind her with a rag soaked in chloroform and holds it over her mouth. Caught off guard, Betsy doesn’t even have a chance to put up a fight as she fades from consciousness…
A rough bump in the road jerks Betsy out of her chloroform coma. Groggily, she rubs her eyes and looks around. Alarm quickly seizes her when she realizes she’s sitting next to Atara Themis on a bus seat. Fully alert now, she looks around and realizes that just about everyone from the GCWA roster was on the bus as well. Most of them were still out cold, like Atara. Others were coming out of their drug-induced sleep and taking in their surroundings. The bus itself was an old school bus, redesigned with barbed wire on the windows and an intimidating paint job. The driver was a big, older man who didn’t want any questions asked of him.
Betsy begins to shake Atara, who grumbles about leaving her alone and tries to roll over. The Impossible Traveler winces as her tag team partner in XWF bonks her head against the metal plating of the bus. Cursing, Atara finally wakes up and rubs her head. Betsy waits for Atty to wake up a little more. Finally, the Goddess looks around her, and slowly back to Betsy.
“What’s going on, Dove?” her voice is thick with sleep and confusion.
“I’m not sure, but I’ve done a headcount and everyone involved in the Righteous Rumble is here.”
Atara rubs her face a couple of times and looks around again with more alert eyes. “This seems promising.” Her sultry tones are heavy with sarcasm as she looks back to Betsy with an arched eyebrow.
Together, they gaze out of the window and look for any recognizable landmarks. Unfortunately, they are surrounded by thick clusters of trees on a lonely, abandoned path. Looming ahead is a huge set of metal gated doors that reminded Betsy of the entrance to Jurassic Park. The rest of the roster around them begin to climb out of their sleep and begin to mutter among themselves, all of them wondering what was going on. It was about then that Betsy happened to look down and noticed the metal bracelet around her neck. Looking around, she noticed that everyone had one. She runs her finger over the smooth metal curiously.
“What do you suppose these are for?” She muses out loud.
Shawn Warstein turns to face them from the seat directly ahead. “I have no fucking clue, but I don’t like it.”
“The situation is rather alarming.” Atara agrees, touching her neck-piece.
The bus finally arrives at a small building that is heavily guarded by men in military garb. Surrounding them are utility vehicles loaded with weapons and supplies. One by one, the contestants file out of the bus and take in their surroundings. It’s an island, something out of a wild fairy-tale. Caves and rocky cliffs stand like sentinels to the east. Thick forest sprawls out as far as the eye can see all through the island. Atara and Betsy exchange a troubled glance as the group is gestured by the heavily armed guards to step inside the building.
At the front of the small room, Deana Barrows stands front and center, hands behind her back. Lurking in one corner of the room is Mack O’Connor, appraising everyone who entered the room with a hungry expression. And on the other side, propped up in the windowsill, looking out at the island was…
“James!” Betsy’s voice is a breathless sigh of relief as she rushes over to him.
He scoops her up in his arms easily as she approaches, throwing her arms around his neck. Pulling her in closer, he looks around as Atara, Shawn, Noah Jackson, and Jackson Hart approach. “You guys are going to hate this one.” Alice Knight hesitantly approaches the group now, eyes growing wide when she hears James’ foreboding promise.
“Which one of these cunts knocked out an entire roster and set us up with these party favors?” Noah hollers, tugging at the metal collar.
“Listen up, kids,” Deana speaks at last from the center of the room. When everyone’s attention is on her, she smiles. “I’m certain all of you are wondering why you’re here and why we felt the need to do so under rather… less than conventional means.”
“That’s a fucking understatement.” Betsy blurts out.
“If you don’t mind, Miss Granger?” Deana rolls her eyes. “I was going through the final entry list for the Rumble and I got to thinking; How great would it be if we took the Rumble outside of the ring and set the entire lot of you loose on a much bigger stage?” Deana smiles widely and claps her hands together excitedly. “Welcome to the Righteous Royale. Here’s the breakdown: This island is about ten miles from tip to tip and is completely uninhabited. There are cameras hidden all over to keep an eye on what everyone is doing. The goal: You have twenty-four hours to eliminate your competition until there is one winner. Everyone is equipped with an overnight survival kit. This kit includes food and water, a map of the island, and five extra rounds.”
“Rounds of what?” Atara asks, eyeing Deana suspiciously.
Deana holds up a paintball gun designed to look like a AR 15. “Everyone will be equipped with one of these as well as your survival kits.”
Realization begins to dawn on everyone.
“Wait a fucking second… You’re determining the number one contender with a paintball theme battle royale?” Warstein chimes in, the disbelief in his voice echoing the general feel of the room.
“I won’t do it!” Kylie Moore screeches and rushes towards Deana, getting right into her boss's face. “This is so stupid! You can’t make us do this!”
“I understand if anyone refuses to participate. As long as you understand that failure to comply means you forfeit your shot at becoming number one contender.”
Kylie shakes her head and crosses her arms over her chest defiantly. Deana shrugs and points the paintball gun she’s still holding at Kylie. Without hesitation, Deana shoots Kylie in the arm. Shrieks of pain peal from Kylie as she grabs her arm and stumbles back. “Now you’re out of the game and contention. Problem solved. Have a seat.”
Whimpering and sullen, Kylie slinks down into the corner and pouts silently. Everyone else has gotten quiet and all eyes are firmly on Deana.
“As Warstein so eloquently put it, yes. One giant paintball game to determine the number one contender to the world title.”
“If it’s for the number one contender's spot, why are Raven and O’Conner here?” asked one of the heavily shrouded, masked figures hanging out by the back wall.
“I’m here for fun,” Raven replies darkly, giving Betsy’s hand a secret, reassuring squeeze.
O’Connor merely grunts and darts his eyes all over the room, no doubt picturing how he’d like to tear every last one of them to pieces.
Deana waves her hand, dismissing the question. “They volunteered. Leave it at that. Now for the ‘rules’, such as they are. You have until 8 pm tomorrow to eliminate each other until only one of you is left. If, but 8 pm, a definitive winner hasn’t been chosen, we go into sudden death.” Deana pauses for dramatic effect.
“So what are these for?” Betsy inquires, gesturing to the metal collars.
“Those monitor your vitals. We'll know right away when you've been eliminated, so don't try to cheat the system. They also act as… Shall we say… motivators.”
This causes mutter throughout the room. “Motivators?” Betsy’s eyebrow shoots upward.
“In case any of you don’t have the stomach to do what needs to be done, or wish to be defiant like Miss Moore over here… Or should you partake in any behavior that is inappropriate to our younger viewers… Or.” Deana picks up a small remote and aims it at Betsy's collar. Pressing a button, a harsh jolt of electricity brings Betsy to her knees. “Just because I feel like it. No more questions, Miss Granger.”
James and Atara help Betsy to her feet, glaring over at Deana. “It’s almost time for the game to begin. Each of you will enter the island, one by one. Raven, since you’re the champ, you get a head start.”
His eyes go wide and he turns towards Betsy. They lock eyes and he leans in, whispering something in her ear. She nods and he places a soft kiss on her forehead before heading towards the doors. He grabs a gun and slings it over his shoulders in time to catch the bag one of the guards throws at him. Turning, he exchanges one last look at his group, flips off the rest of the room, and finally turns and rushes out.
Betsy motions for the group closely surrounding Raven to draw nearer. “He whispered coordinates he wants us to meet him at. If we work together, we can knock off the rest of them easy.”
“And then what happens, we all just skip off into the sunset like the best of friends?” Sarcasm is dripping from Warstein now.
Betsy reaches out and flicks him on the forehead. “Don’t be daft. Or a dick.” Warstein gives Betsy a classic shrug™ as she continues. “We can worry about that when we get there. Our current priority is knocking out the rest of them before they get to us. So we need to regroup accordingly and strategize.”
“Forgive me if I don’t share your sunny optimism of the situation,” Atara says bluntly. “We’re all in this for ourselves, we’ll likely turn on each other before the end. Deana knew what she was doing when she put this together.”
Shock fills Betsy as mild unease slips into cold dread. Before she can formulate a reply to convince Atara of the importance of staying together, The Goddess is called upon by Deana. Grabbing her friend's arm, Betsy quickly whispers the rendezvous coordinates to Atara. Atty glances back at Betsy with soft eyes and squeezes her hand. “Good luck, Dove.”
Atty gears up and glides gracefully out of the door. Looking around, Betsy realizes about a quarter of the entrants are gone. She turns towards Alice and the remaining members of Legacy. Before she can say another word, Alice gets called. With an apologetic look, Alice hurries to the front of the room. Betsy clears her throat nervously.
“James said to meet under the cliffs. We have a job to do, and that’s to protect the Legacy. I know I’m not an actual member, but my links to you guys are too strong to deny. So my interests are tied directly to yours. Therefore, you have my word that I won’t turn my gun on you until everyone else has been picked off.” Betsy salutes with the scout's honor.
None of the men say anything, and the rest of them get called one by one. Before too long, Betsy is called. Scooping up her gun, she barely catches her bag, getting the wind knocked out of her by the force of the throw. Rushing outside, she immediately looks for cover; as anticipated, several shots ring out at once. Ducking into a roll, she manages to find a thick tree and gets behind it.
“Mother fuckers.” After a brief moment to familiarize herself with her weapon, Betsy chances a peak. A figure is perched on a rock and seeing her hair, fires another shot. She pulls her head back just in time to miss a shot directly to the face.
She closes her eyes and offers up a short prayer, then strikes. Twisting and taking aim, she fires a single shot and resumes her defensive position.
“OOOOOWWWWWWW” A hit. She comes out from behind the tree to see Ed Houston rubbing his elbow, slinking towards the building.
“I’m on my way, babe.” Betsy whispers, slinging the gun over her shoulder, and begins the journey to the cliffs.
