A Black Christmas

[Madison Cox]

6 AM… Christmas morning.

 

No shadows,

No reflections here.

Lying cheek to cheek

In your cold embrace.

 

Stephen Maxwell sat in a white sofa that composed most of the furniture in his guest room at the condo of Madison Cox, which was located in a very gated community known as the ‘Obsidian Tower’. He turned off his iPad, having heard enough of Kassidy’s theme. Was he even a guest at this point? His room was locked from the outside. He couldn't leave if he wanted to. Looking to the barred window from where the moonlight entered, he thought out loud…

 

Ginger: Why the hell do these two have barred windows in a ‘guest’ room…?

 

His eyes fell to the white carpet on the floor as he felt a knock at the door.

 

"I'm coming in." announced a voice. Ginger quickly sat up and faced the door as Troy Smith opened it.

 

Troy: The White Queen has summoned you for a Royal Assembly with her most loyal subjects, and she also wishes for you to be present. I've come to bring you to her.

 

Ginger: She makes you talk like that?

 

Troy: This isn't the worst of it. You should see their dungeon or bedroom. They’re both insane. But I’m paid too well to judge. So, let's be on our way.

 

Ginger gave him a quick nod and started walking out of the guest room with the shady lawyer following after him. As they made their way toward the conference room, a more unpleasant voice graced them. Standing up against a wall was Seb Abbott, accompanied by two scantily clad women polishing his recently acquired Television Championship.

 

The first time Champion gave Stephen a sick grin that made him look away in both fear and disgust. Seemingly satisfied with his reaction, Seb directed his words towards Troy.

 

Seb: Watch him. He’s a slippery one.

 

Troy nodded and signaled for the red haired man to follow him. Finally they made it to the meeting room. It was a vast hall with a small table in the middle, surrounded by six chairs. Each chair had a large silhouette of a chess piece engraved on the back of it.

 

The others were already seated before they arrived. Seemingly asleep with a hood over his head was Christian Shepherd. In another chair was Cort Marshal. Ginger noticed that Cort seemed rather unenthusiastic. The biggest man in the room, Large Edward was sitting beside Cort with a woman seated on his lap. The two were engaged in a rather uncomfortable public display of affection.

 

Seb Abbott roughly brushed by Ginger as he made his way into the room without the harlots that were shining his belt.

 

Troy: You'll stand at my side and take your little pictures from here. No questions. No speaking. Also...use these earbuds. Something about you not being worthy to hear them. Got it?

 

Troy hands Stephen the earbuds.

 

Ginger: Alright…

 

Eventually, the white robed Queen had arrived. She took her seat at the table. With a normal confident smile, she looked around at her allies. Her eyes eventually fell on the red head for a short while, noticing that he bowed his head at her. She felt rather amused by this. Ginger started taking pictures for the OCW website as Madison spoke.

 

Madison: I'm glad you all could make it. As I look around at all of…

 

Madison blinked and slowly looked to Cort.

 

Madison: Is that Heather sitting on Ed’s lap?

 

Cort stared back.

 

Cort: No, it’s pre-crisis Britney Spears.

 

The silence sits for a second until Cort speaks again.

 

Cort: Yes, it’s Heather. I might be more deadpan than usual since I didn’t get… any… SLEEP.

 

He shoots an angry glance towards Ed, who’s… engrossed.

 

Madison: But weren’t you on different sides of the hotel?

 

Cort: Yes.

 

Madison leans back a bit.

 

Cort: Exactly.

 

Shepherd: Who here wouldn’t try to climb all that thickness?

 

Madison: Are you saying you want to climb Ed?

 

Cort, Seb, and Troy all stare at a confused Christian Shepherd.

 

Shepherd: Wait, oh hell na! I didn’t mean it like -

 

Madison: Doesn’t matter, rook. Moving on…

[Madison Cox]

Madison squints at Shepherd one last time and shakes her head. She then taps a manicured nail on the table to get everyone’s attention before speaking up.

 

Madison: As I look around at this gathering of like minded individuals, I’m confident that we can all benefit from each other’s company. I’ve been very transparent about what I’d like from you.

 

Seb: To protect your meal ticket?

 

Madison: No. This company is in serious need of a wake up call. Aren’t you tired of working your fingers to the bone, only to watch the undeserving be rewarded?

 

Madison: I recruited you because you are the backbone of Riot and Turmoil. Gentlemen, September to Remember was the first step in you fighting back against this company. The first steps in taking your rightful place in OCW.

 

Madison: Fast forward to a week ago, you’ve now stepped out of the shadows and made your presence known. We, the chosen few, are done ‘allowing’ part timers and the mediocre to be placed above us.

 

Madison: This isn’t about wins and losses, gentlemen.

 

Shepherd, much less confused, spoke up.

 

Shepherd: What ‘is’ this about?

 

Madison: Humbling a tyrant. We, The Crown, are the winds of change, reshaping OCW in my image.

 

Seb leans back in his chair, kicking up his boots on the table.

 

Seb: So why us?

 

Madison: Strategy. You’re self aware enough to know what you are. What your weaknesses and strengths are. With my guidance, there is nothing we cannot accomplish. Every tactic that I’ve ever given Dennis Black, I learned from my love of chess.

 

Madison pushes her weight on the desk and stands. With light footsteps, she seemingly glides across the floor as she walks around the table. She stops behind Shepherd.

 

Madison: Shepherd, ‘The Rook’. Though urban...I see talent in him. I see flashes of brilliance and believe he can be molded into something special. The rook represents the castle walls, which protect the king, queen, bishop, and the knight. He is our speed. Also… you’re going to have to cut that. I’ve got a stylist that will work wonders.

 

Madison mushes Shepherd’s hair before walking over to Ed’s chair. Heather was now sitting on his lap.

 

Madison: Big Ed, The Pawn. Even if you’ve never played, I’m sure you know pawns are the only pieces to stand in the front row and there are more of them than any other pieces on the board. But do we really need a group of fodder when we have a man of such size and strength?

 

Madison: Dennis and I know first hand just how devastating Ed can be when his mind is set on something. He is our strength on the front lines.

 

Madison glances at Heather as she walks by Ed’s chair. Heather whispers across the table to Cort.

 

Heather: You just gonna let her call your partner a pawn?

 

Cort raised a brow.

 

Cort: I heard ‘brawn’. Which he is. Ed is the brawn of this group.

 

Madison: I’ve been orbiting around Mr. Abbot since I signed a contract with OCW. We’ve battled over that very Championship he recently won… congratulations, by the way.

 

Seb nods in Madison’s direction.

 

Madison: We’ve been allies in Revolution Inc., and then back to battling each other. Seb knows us better than anyone, just as we know Seb very well. Wanting his input was an obvious choice. The Bishop stands close to the King and Queen, and will be the last line of defense should the walls fall. But our walls will ‘never’ fall.

 

Madison stops behind Cort’s chair.

 

Madison: Our Knight. Self explanatory. Cort Marshall, a veteran of the armed forces, has seen war. There is little our enemies can do that Cort isn’t prepared for. When it comes to enacting our agenda on the front lines, Shepherd and Ed will be following Cort’s lead to the letter.

 

Now having walked the entire length of the table, Madison strolls by Dennis’s seat and returns to her chair. She doesn’t sit. Instead, she places her hands on it while everyone’s attention is on the empty seat meant for Dennis Black.

 

Seb: Where is he?

 

Madison: I will bring him into the fold, when he recovers fully from Jackson’s attack.

 

Shepherd: Have you told him yet?

 

Madison: I will...when he recovers.

 

Cort: So there is no guarantee he will be on board? Interesting.

 

Madison: He will. Trust me. Dennis is passionate. Dennis is skilled. He’s also idealistic to a fault. That idealism made him very vulnerable. He came to OCW believing that this was a company where a man could rise to the top based on effort and merit alone. Naive. A pipe dream.

 

Madison: This was a lesson that my future husband had to learn on his own. Dennis learned a hard truth that we all have known for quite some time. OCW is not a place where being the best and earning your place matters. It’s about who you know, who you’re screwing, who you’re related to, and kissing ass.

 

Madison: A naive and idealistic young man’s dream was taken from him in favor for men willing to walk a designated fine line. You battered those men, showing where your loyalty is.

 

Madison: We are The Crown. We are the revolution that OCW needs. We are the fire that eats away the rot.

 

Cort rubs his bald spot.

 

Cort: Fine speech, but you know words are only as good as the actions that back them up. I trust you’ll make sure we have a game plan.

 

Madison: Patience. As of now, our “game plan” is as simple as this: when January hits, so will we.

 

Each man in the room nods, barring Ginger and Troy.

 

Madison: For now, enjoy your vacations, Gentlemen. I’m sure you have flights to catch and families to see over this hectic holiday. I need to go check on my own.

 

The groups slowly dispersed after being dismissed. Madison looks to Troy and nods who immediately taps ginger on the shoulder. Stephen is then escorted from the room as well. The scene closes with a shot of Madison sitting alone at the meeting table.

[Madison Cox]

Minutes later, Troy returned to the meeting room and spotted Madison still sitting where he had left her. She was leaning back in her seat, staring at the ceiling. The sound of Troy clearing his throat echoed throughout the mostly empty room. He cautiously approached Madison while reaching into his pocket to pull out a receipt.

 

Madison sits up when Troy reaches the table.

 

Madison: Has everyone left? Ginger included?

 

Troy: Yes ma’am.

 

Madison: Good. He smelled of Flojo. But then again most of the Turmoil locker room does. I’ll need to have this whole floor sprayed.

 

Troy: What does a Flojo smell like?

 

Madison: Seventeen dead fishes washed up on a New England shore during a hot summer day.

 

Troy: That’s rather descriptive…

 

Madison held out her hand, taking the receipt from Troy.

 

Madison: Didn’t take you for much of a Jew, Smith. Are you giving me this because you want compensation for dropping off that package for me?

 

Troy: No, not at all. The tracking number is at the bottom. You said you’d need it.

 

Madison: This will come in handy. Good work.

 

Troy starts to turn away from Madison, but stops himself.

 

Troy: If I may ask. Why mail it out at all? Why the tracking number for something you said you don’t care about? Why not just throw it away?

 

Madison folds the receipt while standing up from her seat. She walks by him, brushing his shoulder with her own.

 

Madison: I don’t like my pawns asking questions, Troy. Though Ed is the most important pawn of all. You are still, just a pawn. I have pawns that aren’t even aware that they are pawns. Be happy that you know your role. A role that can be taken away...if you ask too many questions or second guess me.

 

Troy: But I wasn’t -

 

Madison stops at a door she entered from and turns to face her guest.

 

Madison: We all have our part to play in this pursuit of justice, Troy. You will hear from me again when you are needed.

 

Troy: But-

 

Madison: See yourself out. I have the duties of a Queen to attend to.

 

Shut down and dejected, Troy watched as Madison exited the room. With a loud sigh, he walks off in the opposite direction.