Taking on the Spectre

[CaptainL]

The lights dimmed on the LAW ring. All eyes turned to the stage - it was time for another speech to be given. In the leadup to Turning Point, there was no shortage of anticipation as to who would step up to the plate for another hotly publicized PPV event. There would no doubt be plenty of wrestlers who wanted the spotlight of such a big show to make their presence known. And, it seemed, one of those people was none other than Luke Cranston.

Luke Cranston

Flora Biscoletti

Accompanied as usual by his wife Flora, the former bodybuilder came down the ramp, waving a hand to the cheering fans on either side of the aisle. Luke, by his own admission, had been out to prove the LAW men's division could be about more than just a bunch of twinks and jobbers, and he had certainly made quite an impact so far, displaying some incredible feats of strength against opponents like La Dama de Loba and the Sunset Sharks. He had already become a fan favorite now that he'd shown the world what he was capable of, and it seemed people were eager for what came next. Luckily, it seemed their prayers would be answered.

Luke climbed into the ring and reached for the microphone in the referee's hand. Flora followed him inside soon after, and he hugged her against his side as he turned to the bleachers. "Hello, LAW! How's it going tonight?" Luke asked, and his words were answered shortly after with a vigorous cheer. Smirking to himself, he continued. "I think we can do better than that..." An even louder cheer followed, and he nodded his head. "Yeah, that's more like it!"

Pleased as ever to know that he could get the crowd to rally behind him, Luke began to make his way around the ring. "You know, when I came to LAW, I was hoping I could make an impact. Felt like it was about time there were some men in this company who could stand out as something more than a sideshow. Figured that there was a market for it, as long as the promoters were willing to finally give the people what they wanted to see. Well, look at that! Now I'm here, and the people love me!" He flexed a bicep to demonstrate, showing off his impressive physique. "My dad told me, when I was looking at promotions to go to after I left the indies, that wherever I went, as long as I had my heart in the right place and was willing to put in the effort, I'd be a made man. Now that I've made the landing in LAW I was hoping for - dad, if you're listening to this, I hope you know you were dead right!"

"In fact, I think it's about time I thought about the next thing on my agenda in this promotion. You know, there's a big show coming up! Turning Point - I think if I'm going to take my spot on the roster where I belong, I'd be remiss to turn it down." The fans cheered at the promise of seeing Luke in action at such a big event. "But you know the American Hercules isn't going to take on a match on pay-per-view without an opponent worthy of the ticket price. Oh, what am I kidding - I'm worth the ticket price all by myself - but I like you guys, so I'm gonna give you a bonus. A match I'm sure all of you have dreamed about, and if you haven't, you sure will once I tell you!"

Luke clapped his hands together, then turned to the camera and jabbed a finger toward it. "Spectre! You, me, Turning Point - and whatever stipulations come up for that match, we're on!"

A few fans gasped at that mention. Luke had certainly demonstrated that he could live up to his own hype, but Spectre had established herself as a force to be reckoned with. He wouldn't be the first wrestler to have made a challenge against the mysterious masked hacker, only to regret it later. But a few other fans cheered even louder! For some of them, the staggering size advantage Luke held seemed like a surefire way for Spectre to finally see her comeuppance. Others were just so won over by his charm and his accomplishments that they wouldn't doubt for a moment he had it in him! One thing was for sure, though - Luke had made waves with such a daring announcement. And hearing the arena light up with cheers at such a mention just made him grin a little wider.

"And for the rest of you...we'll see you in November!" he added, dropping the mic before turning to head out.

[Monsy]

“So quick to leave?”

And as Luke took up the ramp with Flora, with fan appreciation lauding him left and right, the lights cut. The Titantron glitched, transitioning to a Chrome Skull logo. She hopped onto her cable hook from the rafters, rapidly descending in the dark before jumping at six feet and landing like a cat on the top turnbuckle. Purple jets of flame erupted from the ring-posts and stage in a constant stream. She finally came into view when a light purple spotlight cast down on her, centre of the ring.

The Malevolent Virus

The pyro died. “All this talk about an old man, makin' names, burnin' trails, only to set yourself to eat shit.” Her tongue clicked, “Why's that, Luke? Bills to pay? Hole in your heart needs filling? Or maybe.” Her head tilted towards him, building up a smirk, "You're an admirer? Mm-m? Tired of the wife who can't fight, now he's onto redheads that actually achieve first place."

A pause, then she frowned. “But you wouldn't last two minutes.” And another jet of pyro shot from the ring-posts! It stopped in a few short moments afterward, leaving a lull. “Do you know what happened to the first oversized man that wanted a meal ticket? Not only did he last all but two minutes, but I heard he became a pet. And then there’s Oscar Orelash.” Spectre didn’t have to say a word before the crowds took over. Boo’ing from all corners. Loud and constant. “Quiet.” She said firmly, with a jet of fire creating a loud hiss as her voice carried wherever there were speakers. They shut up real quick. “It’s clear to me what cloth LAW gets its men from. Guys are servants here, belt or no belt. Muscle or twink.” And finally, her head turned towards Flora.

“And what about you? The blue whore on his hip. Got something to say for him?”

[CaptainL]

At least, Luke thought he had made his point. But things were rarely that simple when the Spectre was involved. The former bodybuilder had already proceeded up the ramp, thinking his business here was done, and that he could focus on preparing himself for the match to come. But even when everyone least suspected her - if not especially so - Spectre was always close at hand. And if Luke wanted to call her out...he had best be prepared for her to answer that call.

When the lights started to flicker, the couple froze in their tracks, turning back to the ring. When the image of Spectre's skull lit up across the screen, everyone could feel something drop in the pit of their stomach. That image had always preceded trouble. And when Spectre herself hopped down into the ring, it was anyone's guess as to what would happen next. Flora's eyes went wide, and she drew back with a hand over her mouth, while Luke's hand tightened around hers to pull her closer. But they were rooted to where they stood, only able to hear what Spectre had to say.

Spectre had heard Luke's challenge - and she wasn't at all intimidated by it. In fact, she was looking to turn that lens around - to remind Luke of the trouble he was in. Her speech was enough to make everyone forget how bold and confident Luke had seemed just minutes before. A moment ago, Luke's promise to take on Spectre had been an illustration of his unwavering confidence in himself. But Spectre had turned that to a last gasp in the face of irrelevancy. She would always come first. She belonged first on everyone's minds. If she was in the ring, she was the one who would have everyone's attention, and her opponents were only there for her benefit - and she would remind everyone of that fact.

Luke didn't know what to say. For a moment, all he could do was stand there at the top of the ramp, looking down at Spectre with his mouth agape. He had never expected to need to back himself up this soon - and when he wracked his brain for the right words to say, he couldn't come up with anything.

Flora, though, knew what she was here for. When she first heard Spectre call her out, she gasped. But when she turned her attention to her next...that was the last straw. Her eyes went wider as she let out a huff, but then they narrowed into a piercing glare as her fist tightened at her side. Suddenly, it didn't matter that Spectre was unintimidated in the face of her husband, that she was such a figure of fear in LAW - or even that she had been trained in wrestling, and Flora wasn't. She had insulted both Luke's honor and her own. And that couldn't stand.

"Whore-! Why, I never..!" Just then, Flora jerked her hand away from Luke's. If Spectre thought she wasn't worth her time, she would have to set the matter straight! "I think you need to learn a few things about me before you spread those words around!"

"Flora-! What are you-!?" Luke took a step after his wife, who was already trudging down the ramp - straight into the fire. Spectre was watching. Masked men had begun to creep out from the shadows, surrounding the ring. And yet, Flora didn't slow down even a little.

"I'm going to give this red-headed hussy a piece of my mind, that's what!" Flora snapped back. The crowd gasped. If Luke had shocked LAW with his willingness to challenge Spectre, this was an even more daring declaration of war!

[Monsy]

“Rich family. Former photographer. Now a piece of arm candy. Flora. I know enough to know that I can say… do whatever I want to you. And there’s never going to be a thing you could do about it.”

Three masked figures hopped the barricade first, scaling it and converging to block the rampart with batons, bats, pipes and kendo sticks. They were both man and woman, wearing a full black bodysuit with purple patches on their shoulders, trim down their sleeves, around their wrists, then down their sides like Spectre’s outfit, leading to a dark latex window around their gut, then connecting to the leggings and a fabric belt. An X purple pattern went over their chests. Boots were uniform. Fit for movement. All of them had covered heads with eye-slots shaped like a purple domino mask. And, of course, purple face paint patterns around their eyes.

Another set of three hopped the barricade to block the ring.

“Were you going, you two??” One mocked.
“No-where important.” Another added, more firm.

“Except for her.” A new pair hopped the barricade from one side, speaking in unison. A black and pink plug-suit cat, wearing high boots that only exposed the top of their thighs. Their head was an LED screen displaying 3 and 5 in arabic numerals, their mouth being free. “We can bring her to the boss.” The second cat said, then lunged at the rampart, reaching over the top to reach for Flora’s ankle with one hand each before pulling back when kicked at, none too phased and you can actually see their smug.

Even so, the virus on the podium could only flicker a smile. “You really thought you were just goin’ to walk up to me? You fuckin' idiot.” Then she let it go over a small laugh, throwing her head back, causing more fire as she started to have some fun with the girl. She had some fuckin’ balls, that was for sure. Untrained and chivalrous. What’s that punch anime she watched with a similar character? Hm…

One-Punch, that's it. The same number she'd need to shut this down.

So with her head still looking up, she combed her hair back, then re-thought her approach.

“Know what? Let her through. Just her.”

The block of eyes backed up, then moved to the side, standing on the age of the ramp to leave a narrow walkway. Spectre stepped towards the ropes to say look down at them more clearly, inviting almost. “Stage is yours.” Her hand came out, then finger-snapped, calling on her omnipresent number 2 to answer the cue, flicking on a spotlight that cast directly on Flora herself.

[CaptainL]

Flora kept marching toward the ring, undeterred by the odds. When Spectre brought up her past, she paused for a moment, freezing in mid-stride. How, she asked, did she know that? After she'd begun a successful career as a model, surely her past would be overshadowed by all the photoshoots and appearances she had done since. Her stint as a photographer for a mid-tier indie promotion wouldn't even register on the front page of her resume. If Spectre knew about that, she had to have dug in deep. What else did she know? How did she know it?

But, no. That couldn't hold her back. A second later, Flora grit her teeth and shook her head, and her fist squeezed tighter at her side. She couldn't hesitate. If Spectre wanted to target them - to disrespect her and her family - then she wasn't going to let it slide. Maybe she was outmatched - but she at least was going to go down swinging. She'd made up her mind about that.

She didn't expect Spectre to have brought backup, though. When a couple of colorfully dressed lackeys came forward from out of the crowd, a shudder went down her spine. How prepared was Spectre? What sort of resources would she need to have had at her disposal in order to do something like this? For just a second, that thought was enough to get Flora to hesitate. Her eyes widened, and she glanced back over her shoulder, checking for an escape route in case she would need one. But when she felt the hand snatch close to her ankle, that shook her back into a keen, stark awareness of the situation. She had to be on her toes. To take her eyes off these people for a moment was tantamount to suicide. And when the new assailant grabbed for her, she hopped back and kicked her leg in their direction - nothing hit, of course, thanks to the henchman's quick reflexes, but she at least tried.

And then, Spectre gave the orders. Let her through. Flora turned to look back up at her. For a moment, everything was silent. No one dared to speak up, lest a single word disturb the quiet that had settled over the arena. The seats were full of fans, yet the tension in the air was so thick, one could've heard the proverbial pin drop. When the crowd parted, Spectre was just standing there. Waiting. Her stance practically begging Flora to make a move. The blue-haired girl looked back up at her - her eyes lingered, afraid to even blink. The spotlight was on her, literally and figuratively, and she could feel everyone's eyes on her. For a moment, her thoughts raced, and her heart pounded in her chest. At the last second, her better thoughts crept back to her. Was this a mistake? Was she only running headfirst into certain doom? But she couldn't back out now. Not when everyone was watching. Waiting. She had been given the floor. She had to use it.

She took a step closer, and another, until she was facing the Spectre eye to eye. Flora's body was twitching and trembling. Yet, she sucked in a breath, holding her back straighter. The shudder went down her spine and through her arm. She didn't know how many seconds passed in silence as she lingered. But then, remembering everything Spectre had said about Luke, about her, her eyes narrowed. She began to raise her hand. Arm up, palm out, fingers together. It hovered there in front of Spectre, hand level to her cheek, ready to strike.

"FLORA! NO!!"

But at last, Luke couldn't hold back any longer. Not when he was seeing his wife plunge herself straight into the bowels of hell. Something, he knew, needed to be done. He couldn't hesitate any more - it was now or never. Not even the guards would intimidate him - he took off in a charge, rushing the ring to try and get through to Flora before she could do anything they'd both regret!

[Monsy]

Spectre’s image of Flora placed across the table of her newest machine became an appetizing thought, tiding over the virus for the seconds wasted not having her hands squeeze that fragile throat. It started when Flora started talking back. A flood of imagination running rampant, picturing the metal glove coming down on a model's belly. It would shatter like glass. Because who was this bitch but someone untrained, too cocky and fifty kinds of stupid trying to talk back to a terrorist? 'Prey' might be a good start. And with Flora passing between her guys, Spectre held in her cackle just long enough to snap her fingers, then spoke shamelessly through the speakers, donning a fat grin and bobbing shoulders from the smug trying to break out into a second wave of snickering.

“Get her.”

The two numbered Dot-types went for Luke from off the ramp, going to grab his leg and hold for dear life in slowing him down.

The three Henchmen in-front tried to box Flora in from three sides, walking into formation with an assured confidence. “Hey, missy. Ready to come with us?” The henchman taunted. Even so, Spectre wanted something a little more. Just escorting her didn’t feel purposeful. Not even fun. Fuck, where was her fun in all this?

The answer was on the tip of her tongue already.

“Give her a black eye.”

And there it was. Two henchmen now aggressively tried to snatch Flora’s arms, prying them apart and opening her defence. The third and most cocky henchman went to grab Flora’s hair if successful, pulling her head down and trying to hunch her over with a knee strike primed and waiting. “Even your husband will feel this one!” One henchman said, making the other two laugh, then…

Lifted the knee to her face.

[CaptainL]

Normally, Flora was a composed woman who held herself with dignity. There were only a few things that were going to get her to break that composure - but when it broke, she could be far more of a hothead than anyone would ever imagine. And right now, if Spectre was threatening her and her family, she was playing a dangerous game. Right now, it didn't matter that she was surrounded by masked goons, or facing down the woman who had established herself as one of the most feared names in LAW. As far as Flora was concerned, Spectre had picked a fight with the wrong person, and it was time for her to be taught that lesson the hard way.

Unfortunately, it was here that Flora perhaps had more guts than sense. No matter how indignant she was, it wouldn't change the fact that she was marching into a minefield. Luke saw what trouble she was getting herself into - but it was too late for him to do much about it. He was on his way down the ramp when he was suddenly halted in place thanks to two of Spectre's minions grabbing him by the arms. He hissed through his teeth as he sank lower in their grasp - but then, all he could do was look up wide-eyed as his wife was caught in the center of the storm.

Flora's hand didn't even have the chance to grace Spectre's cheek. It was just then that she found herself surrounded - and, as she looked back and forth, her hand still hanging in the air, the look on her face began to drop into a gasp. It was only then that it began to hit her what a mistake she was making. "W-What..?" Suddenly, she knew she was outgunned and outmatched - but she was already in the belly of the beast.

The moment she felt two strong arms come down around hers, all confidence she'd shored up in herself fell away. Her face went pale. She did her best to struggle, pulling this way and that, but she could barely budge in their tight embrace. "Let me go-! P-Please-!" she barked, but in a far more faltering voice than she'd shown a moment ago. And indeed, Spectre's men had no mercy to show her - when one of them threw her head down into his knee, and a loud crack echoed through the arena!

Flora threw her head back and screamed. Her head had gone numb, and her ears were ringing. But Luke heard that cry, too - and it sent a chill through him. "FLORA-!" he cried. At that point, he knew that trying to negotiate with Spectre's men wasn't an option. Neither was sitting by and letting this happen. Spectre had gone after his family, too, and he wouldn't tolerate that any more than his wife would.

Gritting his teeth to summon all the strength he could, Luke attempted to pull his arm back from one of them men who held him - while he would throw his weight down and forward to try and toss the other into his comrades by force of leverage! If that worked, he would charge the ring, hoping to snatch Flora out of harms' way!

[Monsy]

“And now... The sequel. Bring her to me.”

Then she laughed about it. That scream filled up her grin. Another one fell while trying to climb the mountain. And just who believed in her attempt anyway? Judging by how Luke cried out for his abused beloved, she can only measure the answer to be: no one. Which was perfect. Perfect in the way the crowd’s stomachs’ all sank. Then boo’d.

Flora, still held by her arms, was dragged and taken, then roughly shoved underneath the bottom-rope before being joined by two of the henchmen. Luke, for his part, managed to take out four of them from whipping a Dot henchwoman right into the row of three blocking the ramparts, steadily moving forward.

“AAAGH!” They went collectively, groaning in a pile as the air jumped from their mouth, not to come back. The thrown girl was dizzy. One was purely knocked out from the henchwomen's leg sending the kendo stick whipping into their forehead. Another had their chest crushed beneath their weapon. Ow-ow-ow. Then when Luke charged, the last henchwomen clinging to Luke was dragged and slipped, hitting the floor by the ramp. The one waiting by the ring was bulldozed in Luke’s warpath, entering the ring in a way that sent the henchmen rolling underneath the ring, pulling an advertisement banner with him and getting rolled up, falling unconscious.

“You're done.” Said Spectre, approaching Flora and standing tall over her. When Luke rushed into the ring, Spectre jumped back and sighed. “And now, so is he.” Before snapping her fingers twice. “Take him down.”

And without delay, the remaining Henchman attacked.

[CaptainL]

Flora's head was still throbbing from the blow she'd taken to the skull. Everything around her seemed to wobble and waver. How many of Spectre's henchmen had she brought, anyway? Was there one in front of her or three? She couldn't think about it for too long - a stinging pain forced its way to the forefront of her senses, and she hissed as her teeth were locked in a pained grimace. She certainly couldn't do much as she was shoved through the ropes, where she flopped limply against the mat below. There, rubbing her head, she began to rose to her knees. She was groggy, and the world around her seemed to teeter from one side to the other like a seesaw. But when she looked up and saw Spectre looming over her, that was what made her gulp - and the blood in her veins went cold. Spectre's gaze, it seemed, stared right into her soul, and paralyzed every will to resist. Every muscle was rigid, and every hair on the back of her neck stood on end. If Spectre herself was staring her down...that was bad news.

Luckily for Flora, her husband was just as overprotective as she was when push came to shove. And when she was being surrounded by malevolent masked figures, Luke knew there was no option other than to strike. No matter how they tried to cling to him and slow him down, in the end they were no match for his raw strength. With just a few well-placed pulls and shoves, he was able to send the henchmen at his sides scattering, throwing them into each other and making them collapse in a heap. Now the coast was clear to the ring. And he had a bone to pick with the woman standing there!

Propelled by the strength of righteous fury, Luke took off in a charge. He sprinted his way to the ring, where he shoved himself over the ropes - a man as large as he was shouldn't have been able to move like that, by anyone's estimates, and yet he was doing it! When he set his sights on Spectre, his eyes narrowed into a glare. The redhead had tried to act imposing, but Luke knew what his mission here was. Imposing wasn't going to be enough. He was ready to take on anything!

"I think you're underestimating just who you're up against..." Cracking his knuckles, Luke settled lower into a stance. Spectre's henchmen ran toward him, but he was prepared. With a sweep of his elbow, he rang out with a swing toward one's jaw. Then, he'd turn to grab the other, attempting to lift them up and drop them down for a powerful bodyslam. If they thought they could take on a trained bodybuilder and second-generation wrestler, Luke was about to show them the mistake they were making.

[Monsy]

"ARGH!" The sound of one dropping, spinning around on her heel.

Then splat. Spread eagle. The eyes rolled into their heads.

The second chuckle-nut was double-squashed. Unfortunately being smashed by a huge man has its way of forcing them to pass out like being swirly'd into sleep, with legs shooting up and going limp. Spectre didn't even hear a scream, whimper, or whatever loser man-noise they make. Just a quiet of being left alone, two versus one, with a huge man and his little wife all to herself. "Tch." Guess she should've expected this with pros. With LAW, it was fifty-fifty whether the wrestlers stormed groups Austin or folded like that Hurricane chump.

Whatever the case-- She was about to be alone with an Austin. That was exciting. She can feel her fingers tingling to claw into him. To charge him down this second while he didn't have eyes on her. To drop him with the surprise she held behind her back and underneath the cape. He was a good show. Even if she wished her henchmen did their job. Losers.

But as the cliche goes--, "There's always more where that came from." Spectre stepped on Flora, bending over and trying to pick up Flora's arm, twisting it. "You're a six-five, two-hundred plus pound genetic freak. You're impossible to underestimate." Then she gave that arm a good twist, as if cueing Flora to holler. "The question is, Luke. Have you? Look what your little stunt has already brought."