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Road to Recovery


Madison Cox

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Madison groaned as she slowly drifted into conscious. The sounds of steel on flesh brought her to. The white haired woman gasped as she propped herself up on her elbows, her ribs screamed in pain, telling her in all likelihood that Madison had a couple of broken ribs.

 

The sounds of a steel chair crashing on a body continued to play in her ear. She looked to the right and saw the footage from Turmoil’s season finale replaying on the OCW network. In a knee jerk reaction, she angrily flung the tablet over the railing of her bedroom. The tablet was the only source of light in the bedroom. She immediately began to regret the movement as it only made her pain intensify. Madison slowly started to roll to her side, but froze when she felt her weight being put on another body sharing her bed.

 

Rolling to the other side, Madison slowly lifted herself to her knees, holding back tears as her injuries made themselves known. The memories of what happened to her replayed without the help of a tablet. She cursed Alex’s name, followed by derogatory remarks about Blake’s sexual preferences, namely including Carter and young boys with the Rogue Convoy. Her robe barely covered her as she staggered out of the dark bedroom.

 

To her surprise, the living room was filled with Amish people partaking (and disapproving) in her taste in art. The smell in the room had almost knocked her out. She quickly covered up and looked to the oldest of her guests.

 

Madison: Figured you'd be gone by now.

 

The oldest stood and turned to face Madison, wiping some of the drool from his beard. He had fallen asleep on her couch.

 

Drooling man: We were able to put one of his shoulders back into place. The other will be a bit trickier. He kept moving. The swelling in his knee has gone down as well. I'm certain he has broken ribs, but I've been working on some home remedies in your kitchen. Should help with his discomfort once he comes to.

 

Madison: So that's what that smell is…

 

Madison narrowed her eyes.

 

Madison: Remedies? You didn't give him any of the good stuff?! So his shoulders, the checking of his ribs and bruises...all done with -

 

Drooling man: water and Ice, dear. He was in pain during the process, but he's sleeping now as you well know. Passed out from the pain. He's got other injuries as well. What did you say he did again for a living?

 

Madison folded her arms and looked away from the group.

 

Madison: He’s a wrestler, Father.

 

Drooling dad: Is he any good?

 

Madison: Pardon?

 

Drooling dad: It’s just...he's so beat up. I can't imagine a good wrestler gets these kinds of injuries.

Madison: You don't even have a Television!!

 

Drooling Dad: Nonetheless…I just cannot imagine this young man has any success with his size.

 

Madison frowned.

 

Madison: This is why no one likes the Amish. Stupid comments, stupid community, bad hygiene, and awful healthcare!

 

The group of Amish guests gasp as Madison points to the door.

 

Madison: I'm sure your horses have shit themselves and are lowering the property value. Please go.

 

One of the Amish guests rested a hand on the shoulder of Madison’s father: It was your Father’s hope that you would return home. Being shunned doesn't need to last forever, Elvesta.

 

Madison’s eyes twitched as she continue pointing to the door. The guests single file out of the apartment until Madison is left alone with her Father. She reaches in one pocket of her robe for a cigarette and finds a lighter in the other.

 

Madison: You shouldn't have brought them.

 

Father: They care, Elvesta.

Madison: Madison. Madison Cox. Learn my name or don't speak to me at all. For the record...he's going to be a star.

 

The Father looks on in disapproval as his daughter smokes.

 

Father: Why not take him to a hospital here in the city if you dislike my methods so?

 

Madison blew smoke in her Father’s direction before replying.

 

Madison: He's in bad shape, papa. It was...well, what happened to us was on another level of cruel. I can't have his condition getting leaked to the public. That's just more ammunition that can be used against him. His friends are looking for him. I discarded his phone, can’t risk it. No one knows he’s here. Not even Rev. Inc. I need him healthy, or reasonably healthy for when the season starts. I owe him that much.

 

Father: You ‘owe’ him?

 

Madison: Yea, well...hmm. My Rumspringa led to me getting banished. When I was banished, I came across a gang of bikers. I used them until i didn't need them. From there, I was arm candy for old men to show off. Again...I made my money, saved it, and moved to New York.

 

Madison: I met a very naive young man and helped build his confidence. He started winning… A lot. Maybe it was me? Or maybe coincidence. We’ll never know. But, his name grew. I siphoned his money, continued collecting from the old men, and with what i took from the bikers...I bought this. I live well. I live well because I’m a survivor that has no remorse for the damage left in my wake. The definition of scum, father.

 

Madison walked by her father, brushing his shoulder as she did so.

 

Madison: He would drop me off at a motel and sleep in the parking lot, in his beat up car. Never asked why his payments were so little. He was just happy to be in OCW. I’d sneak out the window of my dingy motel and come back here, to paradise. I’d sleep well, eat well, and be back to the motel room the next morning.

Madison: He was always clueless, and I didn’t care. He’s my meal ticket. As one of the few men in this Company’s history to hold two Championships at the same time...he’s sleeping in a station wagon at night. And that’s on me. So yea...I owe him this. And ‘you’ owe me this, for being an awful Father and letting me be the monster that I am.

 

The man gritted his teeth and folded his arms before sighing.

 

Father: I will treat him. But you must confess your sins.

 

Madison rolled her eyes and took another drag from her cigarette. She then placed what was left in the ash tray.

 

Madison: I’ve already explained that I have zero interest in returning. There are people who have a better chance of surviving hurricane Matthew. That's how low the odds of me rejoining the family are.

 

Father: To him, Madison. Not our church. I will help him. Do what I can for him. But you must tell him what you’ve done.

 

Madison: ...Fine.

 

Father: He will need to come to the settlement, both of you. I’ll keep you close to the out skirts so your presence doesn’t cause a ruckus.

 

Madison: Guess they’ll still mad about the barn fire?

 

Father: Livestock died that day. I will prepare for our trip to the settlement. We leave at first light.

 

Madison: ...Whatever that means.

 

The man tips his hat to Madison and walked to the door. He gave Madison one last look before exiting and closing it behind him. She gave a middle finger to the closed door and made unflattering remarks about her father. With staggered steps, she made her way back to the bedroom. She illuminates the room with only a few claps, revealing the current Turmoil Champion in the bed taking labored breaths. Madison then slowly crawls in the bed, lays her head on his chest, and claps twice, shrouding the pair in darkness.

  • Mark Out! 12

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Road to Recovery

 

 

The thundering hooves of Amish bred horses chimed in Madison’s ears as she sat in the rocky carriage…all while questioning her life choices. How does one go from living in luxury to riding in the back of a carriage? She could smell the dirt and gravel being kicked up. She could also feel the cool, crisp air of the fall winds as it blew past her father’s carriage.

 

A nauseous feeling bubbled in Madison’s stomach—and it wasn't just because she was reading urban articles on OCW’s site. She was incredibly nervous to return home after being on the run for so long. She was so nervous that it was hard to focus on what she reading, which only added to her nausea. Reading about Bill Ding’s parody somehow going platinum would have to come another time.

 

She could hear Dennis making all sorts of indistinguishable grunts in his sleep. Madison imagined his dreams were similar to her own, the nightmare of the Skwad’s latest antics. What was once merely a war that remained in the ring became personal. Too personal, for her.

 

She could still feel and hear the chair shots from Blake over and over again. The sound would wake her at night right before she could get into a deep sleep.

 

She wanted out.

 

The carriage ride became rocky once it reached a dirt road. They must be close, she figured. Guilt seized Madison as she sighed and stared out the window, gritting her teeth.

 

Dennis: Hey.

 

Madison quickly looked to her side. Dennis was was struggling to sit up from the makeshift bed. She couldn't help but smile.

 

Madison: Hey! How are you? It's been days.

 

Dennis: How long have I been out?

 

Madison: You would sleep for twelve hours here and there. Roll around in pain for an hour...then go back to sleep. For a week.

 

Dennis: That bad eh? What Blake did to me could have been worse. But you -

 

Madison: I did. But I don't want to think about it right now. I don't regret it. You'd do the same for me.

 

Dennis: ...How’s Drago? Versus? Nate? Sophia? Ed? Jack? Cactus? Dustin? Even Abbot. Ebony and Ivory?

 

Madison: I imagine Jackson, Drago, and Ortiz are not doing well. Ed was kidnapped by the Skwad...Jack is missing. The Alliance isn't doing well. I did tell you that being a hero doesn't pay off, not in OCW. So...we left.

 

Dennis: We left? We should be helping Versus figure this out. Mr. Sensation is back!

 

Madison: And helping Mugen.

 

Dennis: Where are we going?

 

The carriage hit a bump that left Dennis groaning and rubbing on his damaged shoulder.

 

Madison: To a safe place. With no Purge, No Skwad. Not even the alliance knows we are here. My only contribution to the alliance is making sure you are match ready. Which you are not. You're no good to them right now. I've got my tablet. If Versus really needs us, he can get ahold of me. Me...not you.

 

Dennis: Why not me?

 

Madison: Because you don't know how to say no to these people. You're too nice. Me? Not so much. I'm not even sure if it's in your best interest to go back to New York. Besides, my Father wants to meet you.

 

The carriage came to a slow stop. Dennis looked out his window and saw nothing but grass for miles.

 

Dennis: ‘Back’ to New York? Your Father? Where are we?

 

Madison: Home.

 

Dennis: Home?

 

Madison: I told you. A safe place. The safest.

 

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  • Mark Out! 4

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