Pride Comes Before the Nightmare - Laxia vs. Angela Guillot

[Letta]

Standard Match: Winner decided by Pinfall, Submission, or KO

Laxia stood in the gorilla position, waiting for her cue to head out onto the stage, though unlike usual, she was having a difficult time completely hiding the discomfort written across her features. She straightened her posture more than once and fussed with her gloves, but no matter what she did, the conversation from only a few hours earlier refused to leave her mind.

- A few hours earlier... -

Normally, it would have arrived long before now. A report from her butler, Sebastian, meticulously detailing her opponent’s record, tendencies, strengths, weaknesses, and even potential approaches for exploiting them. He had never once been late with one before, so when the appointed time came and went without a word from him, Laxia eventually found herself making the call first.

“Seb, just why are you taking so long? Do you have any idea what time it—”
“...You cannot take this match. Cancel it.” “....What...?”

Laxia’s words died in her throat. The simple fact that he had interrupted her was strange enough. But more than that, he had not told her to reconsider. He had not advised her to exercise caution. He had told her to cancel it.
“This match should never have been sanctioned. Your opponent-” Laxia closed her eyes, a familiar sting of inadequacy flaring beneath her pride.

“So that’s what you think of me now...? That I no longer belong in the ring?”

Her voice sharpened before she could stop it. Only one thought immediately came to mind. So even he thinks... I’m not good enough anymore...

“That’s not what I mean. But, my lady... you don’t understand. This woman is-” “Enough.” A brief silence followed. “...That’s enough. I don’t want to hear any more.” Beep.

Laxia ended the call and tossed her phone carelessly onto the sofa. She knew Sebastian was only worried about her. That was precisely why she didn’t want to hear it. If she let him finish, it would feel like admitting that Sebastian was right to worry, and perhaps that she really was that weak. And more than anything... no one was more painfully aware than Laxia herself that her recent performances in the ring had not all gone according to plan. ...I haven’t exactly given him much reason to think otherwise, have I...? She knew defeat, pain, and being thrown against the canvas were all part of what she had signed up for. She could endure it. No. She had to.

Laxia could hardly pretend that she was the sort of wrestler who decorated every appearance with another victory. But her supporters were steadily growing in number, and little by little, she was beginning to carve out a place for herself in this unfamiliar world. What she needed now was not concern. It was not rest. She needed someone to believe in her. She could not afford to give up yet. Not while she still carried the burden of her name upon her shoulders. Not while there was still something she had come here to accomplish. There was no time to stop, no time to rest. This was the moment to keep moving forward. Especially if she was ever going to find the thief who might still be somewhere within LAW. I’ve already lost. I’ve been struck, thrown around, and pushed to my limits before.

...How much worse could it possibly get?

- Present... -

“Miss Roswell..?” There was no answer. “Miss Roswell..!” “Ah... yes!” Laxia flinched, pulled from her thoughts at last. She quickly straightened herself, masking the brief crack in her composure with a breath before stepping through the curtain. Her titantron burst to life as pyrotechnics erupted around the stage. Emerging beneath the lights, Laxia stopped at center stage and struck a practiced pose, looking more comfortable in the role of a wrestler than she once had.

Spoiler

There was still something almost too elegant about her movements, the refined mannerisms of a young noblewoman rather than a natural-born showwoman. Yet even that was becoming distinctly hers. With a graceful smile, she made her way toward the ring. And then came the cheers. Louder than before, noticeably so. It wasn’t her imagination. She could hear her name scattered throughout the audience, and with it, some of the unease left behind by that phone call began to fade. A faint, genuine smile touched her lips. ...I can do this. Entering the ring, Laxia stepped one foot neatly behind the other and offered the crowd an elegant bow before retreating to her corner to loosen up.

Before long, however, her attention returned to the now-darkened entrance. Somewhere beyond that curtain waited Angela Guillot, the woman they called the Nightmare. Laxia curled her fingers into a fist, then slowly relaxed them. Her apprehension remained, but her chin lifted almost instinctively as she waited. She would be lying if she claimed she felt no fear at all. Still, she did not look away. I didn’t run. Her blue eyes remained fixed on the entrance. ...Now I only have to prove I was right. And perhaps more importantly, Let us see for ourselves, then... just what Sebastian was so afraid of.

[Devastated]

A long time had passed since last...LAW had practically forgotten about her. The terror who wrecked havoc in the dawn of the booming business and for the past few years her absence had been noted but relief had washed over the masses. No one had known where she had gone, what had even happened to her. Until a few years ago when there had been murmuring of her appearance within the States. Perhaps she had quit? Maybe she had left LAW behind...or maybe she had retired.

There was musings that the Nightmare had been spotted in America. Underground matches, and alleged criminal activities had been attributed to her name. Though there had been nothing that stuck, it was all hearsay and rumours as far as the rest of the world was concerned. That was until recently...when she had been spotted back in Japan. Apparently she had been convinced to return back to the ring, under what guise no one knew. Perhaps it was a bigger paycheck...or maybe it was something else.

After the entrance of Laxia Roswell, the elegant and refined newcomer with her bright and blinding entrance certainly had the crowd filled with anticipation and joy. After she had settled in the ring....that gaze cast up at the darkened entrance. There was a silence...broken only by the murmur of the crowd that followed a few seconds after the silence had become uncomfortable. For now, nothing happened. There was no Nightmare....

Then the arena was blanketed in darkness. All the arena lights went out....a cover of pitch black night. The murmur stopped, replaced by a few gasps instead. Then, it happened. Upon the titantron there was a single message. Large red letters, bright enough to illuminate the ring and arena partially in red light.

From Hell

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The arena lights began to slowly turn on, however they now cast a red light. Colouring the whole arena in a shade of red that could only invoke a scenery of hell.

Upon the ramp now stood the Nightmare. Angela Guillot!

Her entrance theme began to blast out of the speakers...

A grin that could only be described as that of a killer who had gotten away with it scot-free for decades was plastered on her face. She hadn't missed a beat as she marched down the ramp and rolled in under the bottom ropes, pulling herself up by the ropes and rising to give a sneer to the crowd. They knew why she was here now. The Nightmare had returned for one purpose, to ruin all that was good...starting with this new bright star who had the hopes of being a future talent within LAW!

Spoiler

Angela turned her attention to Laxia now, she walked towards the center of the ring and then moved closer to Laxia. There was not an ounce of fear as she closed the distance between them. Moving up towards her, this was pretty typical intimidation tactic, as she forced her way into Laxia's personal space.

"Always the most innocent lamb that's first to the slaughter huh?" Angela mused out loud, clearly not even expecting an answer from the orange haired noble.

[Letta]

Laxia kept her eyes fixed on the entrance. Nothing. Seconds stretched on, and her brows drew together as uncertain murmurs spread through the equally confused crowd. A missed cue? A production mistake? Had her opponent even arrived? Then Darkness. “...!” Every light vanished at once. Laxia instinctively straightened, visibly unsettled by an entrance unlike anything she had everexperienced or witnessed in any entrance before. She swallowed and glanced through the pitch-black arena, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar spectacle while keeping her composure intact. The darkness seemed to consume even the crowd’s whispers, swallowing the last traces of murmuring until an uneasy silence settled over the arena. Then the titantron suddenly burned to life.

Huge crimson letters cut through the darkness, bathing the ring in just enough red light to catch Laxia’s face. Then the arena lights slowly returned The arena lights slowly returned, red and only red. turning the entire venue into something far more ominous. At the top of the ramp stood a woman. Short platinum-blonde hair caught the crimson light, while a close-fitting singlet did little to hide her solid, battle-hardened build. Nothing about her presentation needed to be elaborate- the smile on her face was unsettling enough, like someone who already knew exactly what she intended to do and expected to enjoy every second of it.

Then her theme song tore through the speakers, and Angela Guillot began her descent. Laxia couldn’t help noticing the crowd’s reaction. Open mouths, excited gestures, hands clutching heads in disbelief. This wasn’t the reception of an ordinary returning wrestler. It felt as though something everyone had assumed was gone had suddenly stepped back into the light. Angela seemed indifferent to all of it. From the moment she entered the ring, her attention remained fixed on Laxia as she crossed the canvas without hesitation and invaded the last comfortable inch of space between them.

Laxia held her ground. Her back remained straight, chin slightly lifted, sapphire eyes locked on Angela’s despite the steady acceleration of her heartbeat. Seb’s warning, the audience’s reaction, and the woman standing before her all suggested the same thing. This is not an ordinary opponent. The taunt had been delivered with the casual certainty of a predator already sizing up its prey, but Laxia gave her no answer. “...” Her lips tightened slightly, but her gaze never wavered. Before the stare-down could stretch any further, the referee stepped between them and sent both women back to their corners for the final checks. Laxia complied, though Angela’s words continued to linger in her mind until the referee finally cleared them and signaled toward the timekeeper.

Laxia stepped out of her corner, Angela’s earlier words still lingering in the back of her mind. Only then did she finally answer. “You seem awfully sure I’m the prey...” A faint, almost amused smile touched her lips. “How presumptuous.”

DING! DING! DING!

The bell rang. Laxia raised both hands into a cautious guard, studying Angela for a brief moment before giving the slightest tilt of her head. “You don’t exactly strike me as the type for a friendly handshake...” Her stance tightened as she began to circle. “So... shall we?” She moved carefully around Angela, keeping just outside immediate reach while watching every shift of her opponent’s shoulders, hands, and footing.