Post by reganvoorhees on Oct 8, 2022 21:11:07 GMT -5
Open on an homage to Bill Stoneham’s The Hands Resist Him.
In this case, The Hands Resist Her. Regan Voorhees is the subject of the painting, expression dour as ever, flanked by her trusty swine Atticus. From the glass behind her, the hands reach.
The painting sits on a black wooden easel. Flesh and blood Regan clutches a glass containing a red-tinted cocktail as she surveys it, her opinion hidden behind dead eyes.
“I’m sure you’re thinking, ‘Seriously, another preposterously wealthy wrestler?’ Someone whose life should be an all-you-can-eat buffet of better options in more respected and prestigious professions. Why would she, of all people, choose to elbow people in the face for a living?”
She takes a drink, her lips threatening to smirk. They do not, but the threat alone is terrible to behold.
“Have you ever elbowed someone in the face? It’s delightful. A job perk most wage slaves would kill for and I get to do it every week. This career path has allowed me to bludgeon people with croquet mallets, mastermind a hit-and-run, even attempt to drown a person in my own blood. That last one left me especially woozy but the memory will live forever in Uprising infamy. That’s the sort of immortality you can’t buy.”
Her perfectly white teeth sink into her impeccable red lips as she relishes the memory. A drop of blood escapes. She thumbs it away.
“Victory, success, accolades all bought and paid for with blood. Life gets so dreadfully tedious for the girl who has everything. But in the ring, I stand across from another meat sack and we wage a war of bone, brain, and bodily fluids. Human essence served raw, in its purest form. Which one of us is better? The thrill’s in finding out. You slaughter me or I slaughter you. Why do you think my finisher’s called the Abattoir?”
The blood trickles from her lip, perfectly centered down Regan’s alabaster chin in eerie symmetry. She lets it go. And then her smirk, in all its terribleness, reveals itself.
“It’s a fantasy, of course. Nobody ever gets what they really want. Especially if what they really want is a liberated and healing earth, finally free of the evolutionary mistake that is humanity, swearing that it will never again make the mistake of promoting a species to smug, self-satisfied sentience. Sounds terrific, doesn’t it? Wouldn’t you know it, on my sweet sixteen, Mom and Dad sprang for a Mercedes instead. But to all the girls out there who share my sense of candy-coated nihilism, it gets better.”
The trickle of blood drops off her chin, spoiling her otherwise spotless white suit. Her smirk remains, as she takes a sip and continues.
“Wrestling gave me a way to channel all of my most antisocial impulses. No matter how satisfying the sound may be, it wouldn’t do for me to snap the pinkies of my subordinates in corporate America. So my tendencies led me here, a place where I can be the real me. The voice for the voiceless who people so callously throw on their dinner plates. And for everyone else who knows I’m right.”
She examines the painting again. The hands resist but keep reaching.
“This is where I belong, really. A perfect place to apply my worst inclinations and be rewarded for it. Gold and glory are delightful, but have you ever heard someone’s shoulder dislocate in a Red Camellia?”
Regan’s tongue runs over her upper lip, as she finally wipes the blood away, smearing it across both her chin and the back of her hand.
“But don’t let my affinity for cruelty fool you. My loyalty is to my cause, forever and always. And to every girl who looks at me and aspires. They know one day, they too can bend the world to their will and correct all its injustices. I extend my hand…”
Her hand extends.
“And reach for them, for our animal friends, for all the truly downtrodden and misunderstood. With their help, I will make the world a better place, and in my wake, I will leave the bodies of anyone who ever doubted us. Come brunch, we’ll sip mimosas made from their blood. Cruelty-free, I promise."
The smirk turns to a smile, a mouthful of perfect white teeth framed by red lips. The eyes do not reflect the smile.
“I’m Regan Voorhees and I’m your single greatest heroine. You just don’t know it yet.”