Post by Victoria “Vee” Strader on Oct 8, 2022 14:12:48 GMT -5
Victoria Strader rode up to the old Bandido and Brothers of Mayhem hangout, an old 70s-style roadside saloon biker bar built after The Altamont incident. Victoria’s grandfather, Scott Nash Strader, a professional wrestler, who was also the National Sgt At Arms for the fat Mexican and served as President of the Brothers of Mayhem until his son and her uncle, John, was ready to lead. However, Scott was killed by her one-time Alter-Ego, Veronica (who somehow was in her own body with the same face as Victoria). John was busy expanding his club. This also wasn’t entirely about them; it’s about Victoria and her starting to face the demons of her young past.
“I guess this is as good a time as there can be….”
“Do you know how Veronica came to be? It’s no secret my dad is a bit of a man slut, and my mom liked to get around when she was younger to get under her dad’s skin, my grandfather. Well, good ol’dad has a knack for twins, as does my mom.”
Victoria stops, checking her ponytail is tight and in place, as she swings her leg over and off her ARCH KG motorcycle. She is her mother’s daughter in her cowgirl boots, blue denim, and her signature pink tank top under the black leather jacket she wears when riding. After a few moments, she holds a shot of Gold Patron in her right hand and a bottle of Miller High Life in the left. Her father’s glasz-coloured eyes twinkle like The Raven’s.
“Me and Veronica were conceived on a drunken lust-filled night between two teenagers who had no business doing what they did, but remember, my mom was out to make gramps mad and was also seeing Cara’s father. You know, the one who is always stoned and forgets everything.”
“Well, when Cara was conceived the following day, a phenomenon known as heteropaternal superfecundation took place and I consumed Veronica in the womb. Absorbed every cell and… her soul.”
Victoria turns her head to the right as her shoulders touch her jawline with a shrug. The Patron Gold passes over her tongue and slides down her throat, warming her belly. A moan of pleasure escapes her pink lips.
“Twenty years Veronica was trapped inside me, watching me live life, paralyzed behind the walls of my psyche, but everyone knows that, like my dad and cousins, I suffer from the Affliction. A split personality that is nothing but evil incarnate, and that Affliction used Veronica as a puppet, giving her the strength to take over.”
“Why am I rehashing all of this? It’s fairly simple… I became a wrestler because it’s what’s in my blood, but everytime I hear my last name I am reminded of the pain the man I looked up to caused me. How it gave my Affliction the tools needed to take me over like Supreme Machine did to Tom,” she says sadly, thinking of her cousin trapped inside a monster.
Taking a swig of her beer, Victoria pulls a box of matches out from her back jeans pocket, and a bottle of lighter fluid in the other.
“I have carried this hatred filled with a pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone and I need to exorcise those demons. I need to release all of this negative energy… I need to figuratively (and literally), burn down the house of broken hearts.”
The Strader Sneer creeps across her lips. Looking around to make sure no one is paying attention to her she begins to squirt the lighter fluid underneath the bar, letting it soak into the wood.
“So I have come to a place that was near and dear to the late Scott Nash Strader, a place he used to bring Max to, where they would drink, laugh, and give no second thought to me. As long as this place stands, the ghosts have a place to call home… Well, not anymore.”
The familiar sound of the crackling sulphur fills her ears, but no one else's as the music acts as her cover. It didn’t take long for the flames to engulf the bar, and with the amount of spilled alcohol everywhere, there was no chance of it going out. Victoria stands outside with the rest of the patrons as they look upon the bar, the flames flickering in some peoples tears. The Sneer is ever present. She looks down at the ground, looking at SNS in hell.
“God forgives.”
“I don’t.”
“I guess this is as good a time as there can be….”
“Do you know how Veronica came to be? It’s no secret my dad is a bit of a man slut, and my mom liked to get around when she was younger to get under her dad’s skin, my grandfather. Well, good ol’dad has a knack for twins, as does my mom.”
Victoria stops, checking her ponytail is tight and in place, as she swings her leg over and off her ARCH KG motorcycle. She is her mother’s daughter in her cowgirl boots, blue denim, and her signature pink tank top under the black leather jacket she wears when riding. After a few moments, she holds a shot of Gold Patron in her right hand and a bottle of Miller High Life in the left. Her father’s glasz-coloured eyes twinkle like The Raven’s.
“Me and Veronica were conceived on a drunken lust-filled night between two teenagers who had no business doing what they did, but remember, my mom was out to make gramps mad and was also seeing Cara’s father. You know, the one who is always stoned and forgets everything.”
“Well, when Cara was conceived the following day, a phenomenon known as heteropaternal superfecundation took place and I consumed Veronica in the womb. Absorbed every cell and… her soul.”
Victoria turns her head to the right as her shoulders touch her jawline with a shrug. The Patron Gold passes over her tongue and slides down her throat, warming her belly. A moan of pleasure escapes her pink lips.
“Twenty years Veronica was trapped inside me, watching me live life, paralyzed behind the walls of my psyche, but everyone knows that, like my dad and cousins, I suffer from the Affliction. A split personality that is nothing but evil incarnate, and that Affliction used Veronica as a puppet, giving her the strength to take over.”
“Why am I rehashing all of this? It’s fairly simple… I became a wrestler because it’s what’s in my blood, but everytime I hear my last name I am reminded of the pain the man I looked up to caused me. How it gave my Affliction the tools needed to take me over like Supreme Machine did to Tom,” she says sadly, thinking of her cousin trapped inside a monster.
Taking a swig of her beer, Victoria pulls a box of matches out from her back jeans pocket, and a bottle of lighter fluid in the other.
“I have carried this hatred filled with a pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone and I need to exorcise those demons. I need to release all of this negative energy… I need to figuratively (and literally), burn down the house of broken hearts.”
The Strader Sneer creeps across her lips. Looking around to make sure no one is paying attention to her she begins to squirt the lighter fluid underneath the bar, letting it soak into the wood.
“So I have come to a place that was near and dear to the late Scott Nash Strader, a place he used to bring Max to, where they would drink, laugh, and give no second thought to me. As long as this place stands, the ghosts have a place to call home… Well, not anymore.”
The familiar sound of the crackling sulphur fills her ears, but no one else's as the music acts as her cover. It didn’t take long for the flames to engulf the bar, and with the amount of spilled alcohol everywhere, there was no chance of it going out. Victoria stands outside with the rest of the patrons as they look upon the bar, the flames flickering in some peoples tears. The Sneer is ever present. She looks down at the ground, looking at SNS in hell.
“God forgives.”
“I don’t.”