That's My Fucking Title! [vs. Emo Boy & the Douche I]

[Mondae Chaos]

The hospital was cold, clean and sterile. Mondae Chaos stuck out like a sore thumb. Her hands were shoved into the pockets of her leather jacket and her head was hung low, her hair falling over her perfect face. The queen was strategically hiding it from passersby and the cameras overhead. What you couldn't see was the knife stuffed into the side of her combat boots. Mondae was here to finish what she started on Thursday. Lord was the devil she knew. Archer was the devil she didn't. This match was about more than him and his quest to rid the world of second-generation superstars for no particular reason. This match was about a long and tumultuous history between MGM and Lovey. He was just in the way.

Not for long.

She approached Room 309 and looked around the hallway. No one in sight. The teen slipped into the room, closing the door quickly and quietly behind her.

Empty.

The white sheets were crisp and tucked in tightly. It looked like no one had ever been here. But she knew better. The Queen's sources had confirmed this is where Archer was taken after she bashed his head in at Vendetta. Pausing for a moment she glanced around the room, looking for any sign of him. A pile of crumpled papers on the nightstand caught her eye. Mondae picked them up and saw that someone had written furiously across them. Sitting on the bed, Mondae read every last word. As she finished, a sick smirk crossed her face.

"Archer, you got knocked the fuck out."

The teen couldn't help but laugh. Knowing that it was her blow that caused Archer to forget who he was might be the greatest thing to ever happen to her.

"You couldn't handle a simple blow to the back of the head with my trusty pipe, how are you going to last in a No Holds Barred match? Will you even remember that you're supposed to be the Architect of Ultraviolence? Will you remember what drives you and have the fire to put your entire life on the line? Doubtful. Hearing about your life and watching clips isn't the same as living it." The murderess crumpled the papers in her fist.

"Sounds like you aren't as hardcore as you think. Me, on the other hand, I'm the queen of taking punishment. I've been left for dead more than once, which includes being thrown through a plate glass window and surviving a beatdown by twenty-three people. What could you losers possibly do that I haven't already endured? I was born and bred in hardcore. From Deathcore until now, it's all I've known. This is my wheelhouse. At Deception I beat Jack Owyns in a fucking Torture Chamber. You wanna talk hardcore? He was bigger than me, stronger than me and had the will to outlast me - just like you. And I still defeated him and now he's no where to be seen."

The Queen had come here to remove Archer from the equation. If she couldn't do it by taking his life, she would take a different approach.

-----------------------------------------------

Archer's doctor was typing patient notes onto his computer when Mondae leaned against his door frame, her head cocked slightly. She waited for a moment, watching him in silence until he finally felt her eyes burning into him. He turned and jumped slightly at the sight of her.

"Can... can I help you ma'am?"

"I came to talk to you about your patient - Archer.. Spencer Archer." No wonder he went by Archer. No one has ever feared a man named Spencer.

Mondae let herself in. The doctor went to speak but she put her hand up, stopping him.

"I'm concerned. I heard he has a serious head injury and may not even be cleared to compete this week. I want to make sure that he doesn't. His brains are basically mush and if you let him compete, I guarantee that he'll never be cleared again. I guarantee I will end his fucking career at Screamfest. So save him the humiliation. He has no place in this match. He earned his shot a long time ago and blew it. Lord beat him fair and square. He doesn't get another chance. Me? I never had a fair chance. Jack Owyns robbed me of that and cost me my only pinfall loss of my fucking career."

"Lord and I have what you would call, unfinished business. Lord has done nothing but humiliate and embarrass myself and my bestie for our entire lives. He makes a mockery of everything that we have accomplished and everything we stand for. He is talentless and weak and somehow he holds my fucking title and that isn't okay. So you're going to keep Archer locked up so that I can finally get my hands on Lord, one on one, and take what is rightfully mine."

The doctor looked appalled and narrowed his eyes at the murderess.

"I'm not sure who you are, but I certainly will not be taking medical advice from you. If I see fit to clear Mr. Archer, I will."

Like she was gliding through air, Mondae had him by the collar and up against the wall in a split second. She quickly grabbed the knife from her boot and held it to his throat, the cold metal pressing against his skin. As the fear crossed his eyes, a warmth filled her.

"I get what I fucking want! Keep Archer away from RSW. Keep him locked up here and throw away the fucking key for all I care!"

There was a noise behind her and as she turned her head, security guards rushed into the room. They wrestled the knife from her hand. Doctor Lame had hit the emergency call button on his desk. Four men were now fighting with Mondae, restraining her arms as she flailed and fought back.

"GET OFF OF ME!" They began dragging her towards the door as she stared at the doctor, her eyes pleading. "You don't understand! This could be my last fucking chance at that title. That motherfucker DeLise won't give me another shot. This is all I get! Lord can't get the upper hand again! He can't have my fucking title!" For the first time we saw desperation painted across her face. "KEEP ARCHER AWAY! LORD IS MINE!"

The security guards were dragging her to the door now but she was using her legs to keep them from pulling her out of the room, thrashing the entire time.

"This is what I have worked for my entire fucking life! Do you understand? This is everything I've wanted and he has stolen it from me! He doesn't deserve it. He doesn't even care about this business! He hasn't trained a fucking day in his life! He is a joke and he has my fucking title! THAT'S MY FUCKING TITLE!" Mondae was seething now, screaming and thrashing as the security guards finally ripped her from the door frame.

They hauled her down the hallway as she literally kicked and screamed profanities about Lord and Archer the entire way. This was everything to her. This was her life.