Favor of the Goddess

[angelofdarkness]

The Goddess favors me. I have appeased her, through the blood of my father, and now she smiles upon me. Bestowing on me the power and blessings I deserve, the blessings I need to prevail. With her favor and power, who can stand in my way? Who can defeat me? I am the chosen one, I am her champion, furthering her cause, bringing pain and destruction, terror and agony to mine and her enemies. Nobody is safe. Nobody is free of her judgement, and torment. I am a tool in her hands, doing her work. I am the whip within her clawed grasp, lashing out, spilling blood, in her name. Her will be done, her loyal servant Katrina serves til death.[/i]
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The scene opens in her dimly lit dungeon, entered via the labrinth, seen last week. A fresh victim lays dead upon the altar. She had brought the man up by the hair, sliding the sacrificial dagger across his throat harshly, blood spilling forth. The man writhed and squirmed under his bonds, as he gasped for his final breath never to come. The blood pleased Her. She smiled, examining the blood coated dagger, dripping with dark crimson life fluid. She ran her tongue along the dagger, licking the dying man's blood off of it, cleaning it.

Angel Destler and Layla had fallen to the might of the Goddess. She needed the blessing of her to bring about her victories, but it did not change the fact that she had to be at her best to earn the victory. She had to show faith, but she also had to fight to win. Expecially this week, she had to be at the top of her game, the destruction of the two mentioned, earning her a Women's Title shot. She needed the championship, she made it her obsession. Winning it would bring glory to herself and to the Goddess. She did not wish to fall out of favor, lest she be destroyed.

Her opponents....Jillian Hall, the current champion, Daffney
and Layla El. Two opponents last week, and now three opponents this week. Excellent, she thought to herself. More victims for her slaughter, more individuals to bring pain to. The thought pleased her. She did not care how many she had to cut apart to win, the end was inevitable. The more the merrier, as the saying goes, and it applied here perfectly.

Katrina paces around the room, her black robe was flowing behind her as she strode forward. The cuffs had a dark red trim to them, and was set with a fine silver and emerald brooch near the neck. She begins to speak aloud in a monalogue.

Layla El...I destroyed her last week, I honestly do not foresee her as a problem. She lost, and she speaks as if she is the only one deserving of the match, like I do not belong. Perhaps she is dillusional after the beating I gave her. How is the match rightfully yours, when you could not even get past me? It is no matter, I will finish what I started last week. Lets see how your psyche manages to deal with two straight, devastating losses.

Moving on....I face Christe Hemme. If I remember correctly, she won some sort of Diva Search challenge, to earn a contract a few years ago. She had a great opportunity, and did NOTHING with it. All she managed to do was pose in a popular nude magazine, like some sort of whore. Perhaps thats the only reason TNA signed her, so they could have a plaything. When I step into the ring Monday Night, she will become MY plaything. Tearing apart that pretty little face...mmm. Destroying the beauty in the world...until it becomes a dark and terrifying place, and the Goddess will perhaps ascend from the Abyss, finding it more suitable to her tastes.

Daffney is a joke. She dresses up dark, gothic...many would say we are similar, I disagree. We are two very different people. She does it for the attention, and she thinks she knows pain. I know true pain, she would be destroyed if she has been through what I have. She knows nothing, she is just a crying little bitch. She wants to come out to the ring, scream, and try to be creepy...let her do it. I don't make appearances to try to appear what I am not. I am real, I am the true dark power. She wants to play games...then she may play mine, and I do not think she will enjoy it in the slightest way. Let the games begin, Daffney...let us see if you survive.

The most serious threat in the match is the champion, Jillian Hall. She has held that championship belt for quite some time, and by reckoning, way too long. Her time is over, and its time for a dark and glorious reign. Not much bothers me, however if she starts to sing with that scratchy voice of hers, I swear I will rip out her trachea. I will leave her here like poor Bruce over there on the altar, gasping for breath. Well...I plan on it anyway, but I shall make it til the little songbird can never even speak another word again. Her screams of pain will just give her an idiotic look about her features, which is not that difficult to accomplish anyways...

These women, these divas...they spend hours a day, making themselves look pretty, spreading their legs to anyone they see, so that they might advance their position in this life. I need no such tactics to attain my position. Through mine and my enemies blood, sweat, and tears, I will rise on dark wings to the throne of the Women's Division. They do not understand where true power lies. It is not in the waviness or texture and color of the hair...its not contained within makeup, or revealing clothing. I will show them, I will MAKE them understand. Soon enough, I shall be the champion, and I will remain on my pinnacle, where none shall be able to knock me from my perch, as it will be cemented in blood and stone. Let them think and say otherwise, and I shall speak with my actions. With the favor of the Goddess, I cannot be defeated.

Katrina walks back over to the altar, the man lying motionless across the dark structure. She tilts her head, examing the corpse. Katrina rolls up the left sleeve of her robe, raising her forearm, running the wicked dagger across her wrist, slicing it wide open, and blood begins to pour and drip onto the altar. She lets it bleed out for a minute, before moving around the altar. She rips open the man's shirt, and digs her dagger into the mans chest, carving a hole around his left breast. She rips the flesh, and puts the tip under the skin, and pushes up, the sounds of human flesh ripping. She digs out his heart, and holds it up to her face. She brings her blood drenched hand closer, taking a bite out of it, then squeezing her hand until it bursts into a spray of gore....The actions and taste of the organ run a course through her veins, and a rush of adreanaline fills her very being.

I will destroy them, eat their hearts, then crush them! Crush their hopes and dreams, everything they desire and could ever aspire to be! Under the heel of my boot they will be smashed, and ground to powder and dust! Their very existence will be torn asunder, left in too many pieces to be put back together! For the Goddess I will prevail!
[/i]

The scene fades slowly as Katrina spins back towards the corpse, and begins hacking and stabbing away with her dagger, until the body becomes an unrecognizable, bloody heap of flesh.
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