September 2008
19 year old Leah
Leah’s body surged with adrenaline as she stepped back inside her dorm room, quickly closing the door behind her and bracing it with her body. Her heart was racing. Earlier tonight at the fraternity house was the first time she had ever stood up for herself. She had been pushed around, talked down to, “put in her place” one too many times. The feeling she experienced as she laid into the frat brother with her boots shook her to her very core. This wasn’t her was it? Fighting back just seems foreign to her. And that poor boy. There’s no doubt he’ll spend the night in the emergency room after her Timberlands rearranged his face. Wait? That poor boy? The adrenaline coursing through Leah’s body soon turned to a cold chill. The realization that the perverted frat brother was on his way to the hospital brought on a new thought; not that of concern. Not that of fear of retaliation. No, Leah didn’t seem to feel anything at all. She held no remorse over what she had just done. Not in the sense that she stood up for her roommate. Not in the sense that she stood up for herself and possibly hundreds of other women placed in that same position. No, Leah felt joy. She felt sunshine. Leah felt Alive!
19 Year Old Leah: What is wrong with me?
Leah clasped her mouth shut with her hands as the surprise of her revelation soon brought a smile to her face. Regardless of what happened at the party, surely no one deserves that type of treatment. Right? Leah dropped down to her butt as she continues to lean against the door. The smile soon develops into an audible laughter as she doubles over lying on the floor. As Leah lie there on the floor maniacally laughing she soon realized that today was the day the War Queen came alive.
November 2008
19 year old Leah walked straight into the barbershop like she was a woman on a mission. The moment she entered, eyes fell to her direction as the predominantly male clientele looked up from what they were doing. Two elder gentlemen men, previously discussing a boxing match between Rocky Marciano and Joe Louis while playing cards, stop what they are doing and eye Leah up and down. The War Queen isn’t quite what she is today but what is to come is evident. Clad in a hooded sweatshirt, black tights and her signature Timberland boots, walks directly to the rear of the barbershop to the last barber seated in his chair with a newspaper in front of him.
19 Year Old Leah: I’m here to talk to Paul.
The Barber lowers the newspaper just enough to bring Leah into his peripherals. Without batting an eye, he raises the newspaper back up.
Barber: No one here by that name, sweetie. I think you’re a little far from home now aren’t ya? We’ve already got our fill of girl scout cookies for the day.
Leah clenches her teeth at the Barber’s statement. Without thinking twice, Leah reaches over to the Barber and snatches the newspaper from his hands; tossing it behind her as the pages spread out across the floor. The entire room is deathly quiet.
19 Year Old Leah: I’m not playing around. I said I’m here to talk to Paul. I’ve got a business proposition for him and I’m not leaving until I speak with him.
Leah stands her ground, lifting her chin up. If only they could see through the boots that Leah was actually curling her toes in hoping that she didn’t just make the biggest mistake of her life. The Barber has his full attention on Leah at this point. Slowly, he rises from the seat. He looked a whole lot smaller when he was in the chair. Standing nearly seven foot tall, Leah’s leer follows him straight up as the two are locking eyes. Leah couldn’t quite make it out but she was certain the Barber had the butt of a gun sticking out of his waistband. Mind reeling, Leah stuck to her guns refusing the break contact. The Barber was the first to look away, opting instead to look at the 19 year old girl that stood in front of him up and down. Without saying a word, the Barber turned and walked towards a door in the back. Cracking it just enough to stick his bulbous head through, the Barber can barely be heard speaking to someone behind the door.
Elder Man #1: That’s some cojones you just showed there, Sweetie. Ain’t seen no one show the Barber up like that on a first meet.
Leah half turned her head around as she listened to the Elder Man speak to her. Quickly, her gaze went back to the Barber. He’s finished the conversation with the man in the back and starts to walk back towards Leah with the door still cracked. His rigid walk he had a few moments ago has turned more into a swagger.
Barber: The Boss will see you now. You’ve earned yourself 2 minutes.
19 Year Old Leah: I only need one.
Now Leah was the rigid one. Outwardly, she was confident. Internally, her heart raced, her palms were sweaty, her stomach was in knots. Tensely, Leah walked through the rear door and saw a man in his mid-30s seated behind a desk. He was shuffling through a few papers but motioned for Leah to take a seat. As she did, she caught the eye of someone else in the room. Another man, almost the same size as the Barber out in the front stood stoically in the corner; not moving and not making a noise.
Paul: So, Barber says you have a business proposition for me?
Leah’s voice almost cracks as she attempts to get the words out. Excusing herself, she plays off that she needed to clear her throat. She’s already come this far. She can’t show weakness now.
19 Year Old Leah: I want in on your business. You’re one of the most notorious loan sharks-
Leah was reeling her proposition off quick but Paul stopped her the moment ‘loan shark’ came out of her mouth by putting his hand up in front of him signaling her to stop. He then placed a single finger to his lips to tell her hush before spinning the same finger around the room. It took a moment but Leah caught on that there could be people listening in.
19 Year Old Leah: Oh…. OHHHHHHHH… Listen, I have services that I can offer you. You are a very “generous” man. You “aid” the community and sometimes the community doesn’t “reciprocate” that “aid”. I would like to help you “recoup” on that lost “backing”.
Paul leans back in his chair; mulling over what Leah has proposed.
Paul: You?
Paul points at Leah with a very serious tone. He begins edging the chair side to side. Finally he just bursts out in laughter.
Paul: Sweetie, what are you? Eighteen? A buck o five? What are you going to do?
Leah purses her lips as she gets angry. Everything feels like it’s piling up inside her as the cackle from Paul’s mouth grows more and more incessant. She has heard enough. Leah jumps to her feet and slams on the desk. Even the stoic bodyguard in the corner moves for the first time since Leah entered the room as she places a palm on the gun in his waistband. Paul’s laughter ceases as he calls the bodyguard off.
19 Year Old Leah: I don’t care how small the job is. Let me prove myself. I can do it.
Paul’s serious demeanor switches to a sly smile as he turns around in his chair to a metal cabinet. He thumbs through a few documents before finally settling on a sheet of paper. He turns back around in the chair and slides it over to Leah.
Paul: You get 10% on that. You’ve got a lot of built up angst, sweetie. If you get hurt, don’t come back. There’s no agreements here.
Leah doesn’t say a word. She snatches the sheet of paper off the desk and scurries out of the room slamming the door behind her. The silent bodyguard in the corner finally lets out a chuckle in a deep booming voice.
Bodyguard: I like her, Boss.
Paul is at a loss as he sits forward at his desk shaking his head.
*******30 minutes later*******
Leah marched her way back into the barber shop. This time around, she’s out of breath. Panting just to keep up. She’s got a tattered duffel bag slung over her shoulder and walking with a slight limp. Leah has one objective and it’s to go straight to Paul. The Elder gentlemen are still sitting up front.
Elder Man #1: Uh, miss. Your boot is untied.
Elder Man #2: And you’ve got something on the bottom of it. Some sort of…
The two didn’t speak another word as they quickly realized there was a red substance caked on the bottom of her boot that left impressions as she walked. They wanted nothing to do with the conversation. Leah just shrugged them off as she bursts through the door to Paul’s office. Both the bodyguard and Barber were engaging in conversation that was cut short as Leah dropped the duffle bag on the desk. Paul, who was on a phone call immediately hung up.
Paul: Bullshit. There’s no fucking way you were able to collect that in a half hour. That was ‘sposed to be a suicide mission for ya.
19 Year Old Leah: Count it. It’s all there.
Barber walks over to the duffel bag, unzipping it to expose a flurry of wadded up balls of cash. Some are held together by rubber bands, others are just strewn about. Paul doesn’t even care to count it.
Paul: Kid, I don’t know what your deal is but you’ve got yourself a job.
Paul stands up from his chair and walks around the desk as he gets closer to Leah.
Paul: If you can do things like this on a routine basis we are going to have a beautiful relationship.
Paul pauses, seeing something on Leah’s cheek that looked to have been hidden previously by matted hair.
Paul: I think you might need to get cleaned up a bit. I got a guy that can give you a look over.
Leah notices what Paul is referencing. Blood on her cheek. Leah wipes it off and looked down at her hand as she rubbed it between her thumb and index finger.
19 Year Old Leah: I’m good. It’s not mine.
Paul ecstatically wraps his arms around Leah and welcomes her to his team. He grabs one of the rolls of money from the duffel bag and hands it to her. Leah unravels the money, pulls a couple of twenties from the stash and throws the rest back on the table.
Paul: That was your 10%.
19 Year Old Leah: I don’t need all that. Just enough to get by. Not doing it for the cash.
Leah turns to head out the door when Paul calls to her one last time.
Paul: I never even caught your name, Sweetie.
19 Year Old Leah: No names. Just call me…
Leah pauses for a moment to try and think of a code name for her to be referenced by.
19 Year Old Leah: Just call me War Queen.
With that, Leah walks out the door and leaves the three men in the room with a duffel bag full of cash.
Paul: War Queen?
Barber: What sort of dumb ass name is that?
Paul: You shut your mouth. Coming from a man that calls himself Barber I wouldn’t put much stock in what you have to say. That girl right there is certainly a war queen. Hell hath no fury on whoever's on the receiving end of her onslaught. That girls got potential.
The scene fades to black.
*******************************
Present Day
The War Queen Leah casually made her way across the old broken down wooden pathway that spread throughout this portion of Baton Rouge’s infamous swampland. The sun had long gone down and the only light around is from that of the moonlight. In this particular region of the Bayou swamp tours don’t typically go after years of buildup so the thought of someone else in the area would be unheard of. The rundown pathway creaks with every step as Leah continues her walk clad with her typical dark camo cargo pants, Timberland boots, black sweater with her hoodie pulled up over her head. The handkerchief Leah typically has fixated over her face has been pulled down around her neck displaying the Coven logo. Leah takes one last chug of her sugar free Red Bull before crushing her the can in her hand; tossing the trash into the swampland.
War Queen Leah: Holale mamas! Que onda?
The War Queen smirks as she continues down the unkempt path as she buries her hands deep in her pockets.
War Queen Leah: Felicitaciones por todas las celebraciones recientes que rodearon a las ShieldMaidens. Aniversarios. Cumpleaños. Bodas. Veo dónde está tu atención.
The smile across the War Queen’s face quickly fades into a scowl.
War Queen Leah: You’ve got a lot on your plate as of late. Anniversaries. Birthdays. Weddings. You squander your time trying to portray yourself as a badass to all those around you. You create this fantasy world in which everyone is out to get you when the reality is the shit you get yourself into is all started BY you. You quarrel with the police. You argue with rival gangs. You quite simply puff out your chest demanding for others to kiss your boot like you’re someone. Granted, you are a Shieldmaiden. El Presidente. La Reina de Los Shieldmaidens. No eres más que una mierda en mi bota. Nothing but feces.
The War Queen spits some saliva off to the side and continues to walk.
War Queen Leah: You think you’re hot shit as the President of the Shieldmaidens? Consider me unimpressed. That’s like saying you’re the hall monitor for a pre school. Now, now. I know what you’re thinking. This isn’t the first time you or your “club” have been verbally trashed by an opponent. It’s not the first time you’ve been relegated to prepubescent banter. What you won’t get from me, however, is consorting to juxtaposing you to a group of biker dykes. No, that’s for two reasons. First and foremost, I’m a person of class. Well… when I want to be. Secondly…
The War Queen pauses her walk and draws in a breath.
War Queen Leah: That would be thinking too highly of you.
Leah shrugs her shoulders before continuing to walk.
War Queen Leah: Now sure. The Shieldmaidens have had some success here in MHW. You’ve got the Tag Titles. You’ve got the Hardcore Title. You’ve got the ThrowDown Championship that was last defended…. Fuck, I don’t know when. But then there’s you, Alex. Where do you fall into this mix? The Shieldmaiden, as far removed from the dominance they previously displayed as they seem to barely be holding on most weeks, at least have something to show for themselves. You? I can’t quite figure it out. You’re their President and yet, to me at least, you don’t seem fit for the position. A President is meant to lead. A President is meant to conquer. A President is not an organizer of anniversary parties, nor birthday parties, nor weddings.
Another smirk comes across the face of the War Queen as she looks around at her surroundings before turning back to the camera.
War Queen Leah: When I came to Mile High Wrestling I heard you were the shit, the big dog, La Jefa. I look around and I see a shell of someone you once were. There’s no doubt the potential is still there but let’s be frank, Alex. You used to be the shit. Now… now, you’re just the shits. Don’t get me wrong. You’ve shown some signs of wanting to make a comeback. You took down our “wild dog” in Solomon Cain. Granted Cain wasn’t in the best mindset for the past month or so but you did that. You and Wendy took down Jansen and Tyke Index two weeks ago. Then again… it was Tyke who took the fall and it was Wendy who got the win for the team. It really does once again beg the question as to where you fall in the Shieldmaiden mix. Perhaps, your path of redemption comes through the Rise of the Phoenix Tournament. I mean, why not? The very first Phoenix Champion rising up through this tournament to reclaim that lost glory she once held. It would almost be poetic if it weren’t for one thing.
Once again, the War Queen pauses in her walk down the eerie path.
War Queen Leah: Your path guided you to me. You remember me, right? That girl that caught your attention. That girl that had all of the Shieldmaidens’ eyes on her to the point in which there was almost a vote to bring me in as one of you. It could have been The War Queen with a seat at your table but that was never to be. My path was not filled with branches that veered off. No, my path was straight and narrow. My path was guided. That’s what makes our match this week at ThrowDown all the more interesting. You all saw something in me. You recognized me for the hardcore bitch that I am. And yet…
The War Queen removes her hands from the sweater pockets, placing one finger over her chin to think inquisitively.
War Queen Leah: And yet as you put it a few weeks ago, I’ve been conned to stick around without the “biggest gun being around anymore.”
The War Queen lets out an audible laugh.
War Queen Leah: Silly, Alex. What makes you think Solomon Cain was our biggest gun? Perhaps your fantasy world has mushed your brains up too much. Perhaps the idea of ranks, duties, hierarchy amongst your gang is all a bit too much to comprehend the real world. Alex, if you think The Lost Child was our biggest gun… well, Sweetie, you’ve got another thing coming when we throw down at ThrowDown. Ya see what I did there?
As Leah continues to follow the worn down path, she comes to a fork. Veering off to the left is the same rickety wooden pathway. To the right, the wooden path ends. Instead, it is replaced by a dirt path covered up by tree branches that have overgrown the area. Stopping to think for a moment.
War Queen Leah: I’ve never been one to go the easy route.
Leah opts to go right. She steps over the hull of a hollowed out tree that has long since fallen. Using her hands to separate the branches in front of her, the War Queen steps forth past the brush and onto the dirt trail leading her deeper off the previously tried and true path.
War Queen Leah: For you, Alex, the Rise of the Phoenix Tournament must have been considered your shoe in for a return to prominence. Many have looked past my Coven-mate, Emily Falls. You laid waste to her and, quite honestly, took advantage of that poor young girl. Assuredly I presume you would be facing our AMMO Champion, Ripley, in the second round. Once I showed you the REAL War Queen, it seems you’ve all but cast me aside. Your path was one you presumed to show exactly why you sit at the head of the table. Unfortunately, for you, your path took a dark turn. The supposed Bullet takes on the War Queen. My path in life has always been quite different. I’ve always had to work that much harder to get to a position of importance. I’ve always had to take the unconventional routes to earn my keep. So, while you sit there thinking the biggest gun Coven has to offer has been eliminated… well, BANG!
The War Queen motions like a gun going off with one hand as she jokingly mocks Bullet. With the other hand, she continues to waft her way through the arduous pathway.
War Queen Leah: The Rise of the Phoenix Tournament is but the first step in all of this. You see, the Coven hit hard with great impact. You and your Maidens were left embarrassed at our hands. You felt as though retaliation was due. You reacted and you isolated Solomon Cain. Do you honestly think you’ve silenced the Coven? We’re still standing if you haven’t quite seen. You think you’ve gotten our number? You think we are weak minded and vulnerable with a person down? Alex, you can bring out all one thousand four hundred sixty two members of the Shieldmaidens. You can bring out their spouses, their children, their great auntie’s second cousin’s neighbor’s sister-in-law’s neighbor. Numbers aren’t what fuels the Coven. The Coven is but a unique entity comprised of some of the very best that don’t quite like what’s happening here in MHW and choose to do something about it. My first steps, the Coven’s first steps begin with ThrowDown Episode 26 when I eliminate you from the tournament. It begins as the War Queen moves on to the finals and shows the world another part of Leah. Out of the dark, tepid swamplands of Baton Rouge a Blasian Phoenix will rise.
The War Queen steps through one final brush and out into a clearing. Almost as if this spot was specifically cleared for a reason. At the end of the clearing stands an old run down shack that looks as if no one has been there for years. Given its seclusion from the rest of the swamp, someone would have a difficult time getting here. A sign hangs not far from where Leah stepped out into the clearing. It reads “Crowley Residence”. The War Queen continues forth as she walks towards the shack.
War Queen Leah: I am not as naive as you, Alex. I don’t believe this tournament to be a walk in the park. I believe it to be a test of the willpower of man. You see after I defeat you I still have one more match. I have the winner of either Azzurine Vebbins or Gabriel Ohio; a ginger wordsmith or some overgrown freak with puss oozing from his face thanks to Saoirse. Azzy has been on quite the hell of a ride as of late. Shit, she’s been the only person to defeat the illustrious Skrabs; albeit in non-title contention. Well, the loquacious lass better understand that the gift of gab may be polarizing to some but when the ferocious female sets her eyes on the prize, well… let’s just say Nidia will be there to help lick the wounds when she suffers defeat.
The War Queen is but a mere few feet away from the shack as she eyeballs the front door. Ignoring the broken windows, the slanted base, the creak of the entire structure as the wind blows, Leah’s eyes rest solely on that front door which, by legend, has that same hole in it as the owner tried breaking in with an axe as his son was still alive. Many of those familiar with Louisiana know the legend of Victor Crowly and The War Queen, for one, wanted to be up close and personal to see if the legends were true.
War Queen Leah: My path has brought me exactly where I need to be. I’ve learned a long time ago that I don’t fear monsters. The way Ohio took down Saoirse to move on in the tournament brought a smile to my face. She had it coming. Should Ohio be the one to advance I will be standing my ground. I don’t back down from challenges and I welcome the pain. It’s a part of me. As the MHW has come to understand, I will keep fighting. I will keep destroying. I will lay waste to the supposed monsters that inhabit MHW and prove that they are mere men. I will unravel the bandages from Ohio’s face and stare fear in its eyes and proclaim, “not today.”
The War Queen takes a step towards the door and extends her fist out to no more than a few inches away. Drawing in a deep breath, The War Queen knocks on the door three times. Fully expecting nothing to happen, Leah waits a few moments before turning to walk away. As she turns around, the creaking sound of the door opening can be heard. The War Queen faces the doorway head on as she peers inside from a distance. Seeing nothing but darkness, Leah draws in another deep breath before looking back at the camera.
War Queen Leah: Fear can cripple most. Thankfully fear took a backseat a long time ago. This week at ThrowDown, I have the chance to become something greater and all that begins with you, Alex. You tried to send a message by hurting my dear friend, Emily. You hit her with your little elbow not once, not twice, not thrice but four times leaving her bloody and beaten. Now you go up against the War Queen and that little act of yours will be just that; an act. Bring the crazy because I invite it. Bring the hurt because I welcome it. Still, I warn you. Try to pull something like you did with Emily and you just might feel a bang of your own. A Blasian Phoenix will rise and the Coven will begin its ascent. This is my shot and I am not going to throw that away. Get ready… because those War Queen Ws are going to be flying sky high.
The War Queen winks at the camera before walking into the Crowley house and slamming the door behind her. The camera zooms out from the Crowley estate as the scene draws to a close.
