We opened up on the face of the UTA World Champion, La Flama Blanca. His right eye visible through the black and white mask as the close-up shot from the camera had framed it.
“The UTA Championship or now the UTA World Championship is the top prize. Held by some great men in this industry since day one. Abdul bin Hussain, Dr. Emo, Sean Jackson, Yoshi, Perfection, Madman Szalinski, La Flama Blanca.”
The camera zoomed out.
The undeniably charming face, far from being masked, smiled back. The camera centered focus on her from an odd angle as if someone was trying to film her from a profile view. Almost.
“And Zhalia Fears!”
Zhalia laughed and patted her left hand over her chest, and just so happened to be over the right eye of La Flama Blanca -- the head on her shirt anyhow, before letting it drop to her side.
“I may be getting ahead of myself here, but what a twenty four hours!” Her smile beamed as she clearly was thrilled. “Sure I missed out on my chance to face CBR to become the Number One Contender for the Legacy Championship title.” Frown. “I hated that. Having to sit in the back and watch while Kendrix and CBR gave us another Dynasty classic. In terms of Jackson and Blanca of course, not Perfection and… anybody, really.” Zhalia smirked and continued, “Best of luck to CBR as he goes on to face John Sektor here soon. That is one match I am definitely interested in seeing.”
Zhalia chuckled and pointed at herself, or more specifically the mask of the champion.
“This man has had the run of all runs in the UTA. Sure the other guys I mentioned had some interesting careers and title reigns, but La Flama Blanca’s is something else. Something… shaped.” Standing there she let the word filter in the air for a moment. “I could follow that by saying shaped by destiny. Humorous as that is. But no.”
Stepping back she looked upward, her eyes in a dead stare.
“October 19th. Blanca created a name for himself by doing the unthinkable and shocked the world by kicking Madman’s face in. Joining Dynasty. That night the UTA lost one of the allies to justice, so to speak, and gained a henchman, that would develop into a villain of his own.” She shook her head and pointed down at her shirt and wiggled her finger at the masked face. “And that could be where the chapter ends, but before I continue here, something else happened that night.”
Grinning, Zhalia tossed her arms out wide and bent her wrists with finger extended at herself briefly.
“That same night this woman before you made her first televised appearance with the UTA. In an interview no less. High as a kite… not by influence but rather on the night thus far, and nervous about being there … things went-” she paused to consider the right words, “wonky, I suppose.” Shrug. “Jennifer still has not requested an interview with me again since that night.”
She looked down shaking her head and laughed then looked back over at the camera.
“October 19th, Blanca. Where your chapter with Dynasty officially started, another story was beginning. A story that would see my debut match at Victory on November First. Sure it did not go my way but that was the start. That was where Zhalia Fears truly begun.”
Extending her left arm she pointed forward with a grin.
“The woman standing before you finally has an opportunity at the UTA World Championship. Who knows what brought that forward at last. Maybe the uppers are tired of me reminding them that I beat Sean Jackson, the then UTA World Champion?” She smirked knowingly. Sure it was by disqualification, but a win is a win in this business. “And you know what … with any other former champion, this could be a cakewalk. Well, easier said than done sure, but what I am getting at here is that they got complacent.”
Zhalia smiled and reached back with her left arm to rub her neck. Still sore, still stiff, thanks to that last swinging neckbreaker from Abdul. It wasn’t even twenty four hours since their match; so of course the grueling pain was still there.
“You, Blanca, have not. Wingate tossed challenger after challenger at you. One by one they fell. Even the undefeated Alex Beckman. They all fell before you. And I know-” she pointed forward once more, “this woman is going to be the next to fall before you. Circle of the UTA, right?” Crossing her arms in front of her she shook her head. “Not this time. Sure, unlike say Beckman or Doozer, I have no impressive win streak to back me going into this UTA World Championship match. Wins and losses, I have got them both. In fact my first match was after all a loss.”
She shrugged. It was an irrefutable fact. She gave it her all against The Second Coming on her debut, and her opponent won out in the end. Not the best kick start of a career.
“I have more losses than wins, as it is.” Zhalia smiled and shrugged that fact off. “It is what it is. The UTA is filled with the best of the best in this industry. No other promotion can compare. Not some independent leagues, not that place in Chicago, not Team Danger’s stomping grounds. The UTA is its own mixed bag of awesome. And you Blanca, you are atop that mountain.”
That fact was just as irrefutable. As the UTA’s champion of champions, LFB stood atop the rest. Sure Sektor was talented, and Thorpe as well but only one title ever actually remains a focus year-round.
“Here is the thing, Blanca. You are decorated. You have said it yourself. Not a day has gone this year that you were NOT a champion. The only burp in that is the night we all had to give up our Championships. All or Nothing.” Zhalia frowned at that. The night she had to give up her Prodigy Championship, and by that started a somewhat downward spiral. Her hopes of walking out with it once more or something better, but those plans did not come to fruition. “You walked out with the UTA’s Tag team Championships alongside my sister, The Second Coming. You two were a dominating team, but the moment you lost those titles-” she paused, crooked her head to the left and stared forward. “You turned on her. Rather than go after them again?”
Zhalia didn’t get it. How could she -- she was still a tadpole. This was a business about making it to the top. Why would someone that was at the top not seek to cement that fact further by reacquiring those tag titles? Instead he took his hatred out on her friend. It just never sit right.
“Maybe it was for the better, though.” She scrunched up her nose in disgust. “Well, it did mean that you, as the UTA World Champion, would be defending your championship in front of the fans far more. So yeah losing those tag titles did you some good,” she grinned and held it there for a few seconds, “so what happens when you lose the UTA title? Think about it. If I can not do it in two weeks, one of those guys from Victory’s Gauntlet match will have a shot, and if they can not do it, one arsehole remains.”
Laughing, Zhalia clutched at her sides. She was never one to curse unless truly warranted, but sometimes you can get around that. Focusing forward she smiled and continued.
“Mister Ace in the Hole, that is. Sean and I are far from finished. But, my focus is as always, forward. And that is on you Blanca, and then past you to the ‘what ifs’.”
Holding up her hand before her, she clutched it into a fist then raised her index finger.
“What if, Sean Jackson decides to cash in after our match. Both worn and torn. My hand raised. Let the games begin.” She waggled her finger back and forth, “I will not have that. And I would think you would not either, Blanca. After all this is not the Tag Titles, but rather the prize of prizes. You would want your rematch against the one that took it from you, not Sean.”
Raising her middle finger next, alongside her index.
“What if, Eric Dane gets past the hurdle of a Gauntlet. Or Amy Harrison? Maybe Skylar?” With a shrug she once more waggles her fingers. “First may as well call a turd a turd. We know that Eric will make it through. By hook or by crook. Dude thinks he runs Victory, and who knows Blanca,” she smirked at the thought as it was all entirely possible, “there may be some guys there that believe that and will do what he asks or demands. Right?”
Zhalia lowered her hand and turned aside. Her back to the camera’s view mostly.
“Eric will have to wait. The immediate threat would be Sean. Am I right?” She paused, brushing her hair over the back of her ears and rolled her neck. Still faced away. “Immediate and constant. Blanca, even if you are able to retain Monday. That man has a target set firmly on the title. Not the one holding it. That person is simply the wall his bullet strikes through to secure the target.”
Laughing she pointed forward but it seemed rather pointless given the focused angle on her.
“That target currently is held by you, Blanca. Even with your Dynasty brethren. Fodder to Sean. And once it changes hands, well… “ she halted mid-sentence. True, LFB has Dynasty backing him. Sean may have allies with Team Danger and a fork. But Zhalia… “-yeah so I am alone again, no fodder. No walls. No barriers. Just me.”
She stood there silently, probably smiling. This was everything to her. The top prize, the ultimate goal. In reach. Finally.
“Come Wrestleshow I am going to do the unthinkable. The one thing that nobody has been able to do.” Zhalia smirked, “Dethrone Dynasty. Just as I said I would.” She stared forward, her eyes piercing through the lens. “This time, I am not stopping. This time, nobody is standing in my way from acquiring my dreams.”
She spun around and faced forward once more.
“The one that stands in my way from achieving my goals is not you, not Sean, not Amy or Eric. There is one person that has held me back every time I have victory in my sights, Blanca. I finally figured it out. Every time I have had that chance to climb that ladder. Every time.” She inhaled and held it there for a moment before exhaling. “Whenever I know what is ahead, I get derailed. Off-centered. Off focus.” Again, inhale and exhale. “I plan ahead. I aim for my opponents. Give it my all and yet, every time one person stands in my way from taking that last step needed, Blanca.”
Crossing her arms she gazed straight ahead.
“Two weeks I am coming at you with everything I got, Blanca.” She cocked her head slightly to the left, “Everything.” Straightening once more, “Three things will end that night Blanca as my story moves forward. Dynasty’s run atop the mountain-”
She grabbed her shirt just above the right eye, and RIPPED IT down and across her stomach. Show of strength or cut-up preparation perhaps. Letting it hang off to the left side while leaving her abs and chest exposed.
“Your reign as the UTA World Champion-”
She raised her right arm and pointed forward. Her left boot drilled forward at the camera - stopping just short of connection.
Zhalia then turned.
The camera started to zoom out and pan over, showing her with a piercing gaze locked forward; her arms crossed above her shirt hanging off to the right..
“I will see you in two weeks, champ.” She stated then looked back over her left shoulder. Her own piercing gaze meeting her eyes behind her. "Goodbye."
Coming full focus on Zhalia once more while she faced forward and started walking towards the camera... and behind her, across a large standing upright mirror, now with her boot print on it, her reflection walked away.
"The only REAL difference between Shakespeare and wrestling, is that nobody heckles a performance of Hamlet complaining that the sword fights are fake."
- Uncle Rocky