The First Fallout

[Deleted]

GOD KNOWS WHERE

It felt like the whole room was spinning, but it was too dark to actually tell. All Toni could go by was the perpetual motion she felt. Her eyes were wide open, looking around, and yet she couldn’t see what was a few centimetres in front of her. The motion wasn’t all she felt. There were hands on her, burrowing under her skin and tracing her tendons. They caused a spark of pain with every slither of movement they made, slipping deeper and deeper under her flesh. Every fibre of her body was being torn at their will, every nerve was being tormented a thousand times over. And yet she couldn’t speak, couldn’t utter a word. A hand came up, fingers wiry and coarse, and it pried her lips apart. Fingernails scratched at her teeth as the hand slipped something into her mouth. She was forced to swallow the small stone – she had no choice. It gagged her at first, made her feel as if she was choking. Then it eased.

And suddenly the hands faded away, replaced with something else. It was warm, comforting. The feeling dripped down her skin, hot but not at all unpleasant. Toni held her hands out and brought them up to her face, and she could finally see something that wasn’t darkness. The palms of her hands, calloused, still, and covered in blood. It was raining down from above, like beautiful apocalyptic hellfire, and Toni sat back and allowed herself to be drowned in it.

She was better now.

---

UNKNOWN APARTMENT

LAS VEGAS, NEVADA
SOME TIME AFTER FNR #410

Someone was calling Toni’s name. She heard them through the haze of sleep, and though she tried to ignore them as best she could, their words pierced her skull like an ice pick. She murmured a string of curse words that made no sense being put together as she opened her eyes and came to. Thankfully, there wasn’t too much light present to irritate her. Shifting around, it took a moment or two to realise exactly where she was. There was a distinct smell – that cheap perfume someone she knew always wore. Combined with the bright yellow throw that she was tangled up in and the couch that was so soft it was practically consuming her as she laid on it, Toni realised all too quickly whose apartment she had ended up in.

“Shay?” She questioned as she began to sit up, her eyes finding the young woman in question. Shay watched Toni from the other end of the couch, arms folded across her chest. Still got that attitude, Toni thought to herself. Shay was one of the dancers at ‘Sanguine’ – the kind that thrashed around in elevated cages for people’s entertainment, or just to be ignored. Though she was far from someone’s personal entertainer, as Toni had found out on numerous occasions in both drunken and sober states. She was also far from what you’d expect a dancer in Sanguine to look like, but it probably didn’t make much difference once she was dressed to impress the ‘dark’ masses.

“Yes Toni, it’s me. You’re in my apartment again.” Shay took a seat on the arm of the couch, pulling her gaudy robe just a tad tighter against her body.

“I guessed. What even happened?”

With a roll of her eyes, Shay began to explain. “You wandered into my apartment using the key I told you never to use, drugged out of your mind, stumbling all over the place, and talking a lot of shit if I’m being honest.”

“Was I still good?”

Toni’s comment received an incredulous look. “We didn’t do anything.”

“Oh great! So I lose my debut match and I don’t even get a shag afterwards. What a great fuckin’ weekend.” Collapsing against the couch, Toni sighed as she instantly regretted her decision to be as dramatic as possible. There was a dull soreness running through her veins that she had just noticed, an ache that was made worse with every movement she made.

“It could’ve been worse – I could’ve shot you, since I thought someone had broken in.”

“Maybe you should’ve. Really top off my week.” Staring up at the cracks in the ceiling, Toni thought back on the last few days. She could remember her first EWC match, much to her dismay. Losing to Trish Newborn was not part of the plan, as she could vaguely recall the Kray Twins drilling into her post-match. But the events following that were a blur. Toni had done drugs before – understatement of the year and it was only February – but she could always remember most of what had happened whilst high. Though no matter how hard she tried to think about what had happened after Rampage, she couldn’t remember any of it.

“How long have I been out?” She asked, voice drifting off into the space between herself and Shay.

“You dropped in at about 2am, it’s 12 right now, so ten hours.”

“Fuck. I need more sleep.”

“And you can go to your apartment and do that.”

Regardless of what Shay said, Toni didn’t budge. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to move (well, that was part of it), but it was more her body wasn’t letting her get up. That dull aching was spreading across her skin, making the tide of pain rise over her. A quiet groan was let loose, completely unintentionally, and there was a sudden pang of weakness that hit Toni harder than the pain itself. Unfortunately for her, Shay noticed.

“Toni, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She was lying through her teeth and Shay knew it. She even gave Toni an unconvinced look to prove it.

“Look, I’ve seen you when you’re fucked up, but last night when you wandered in here you were on something else. You definitely weren’t drunk, and you weren’t making nearly enough attempts to get in my bed to be on E or whatever the hell it is you do. You just…seemed a little different than the usual ‘fucked out of her mind Toni’.”

“Shay, I don’t even remember what happened last night. Hell, I don’t know what’s happened over the last couple days. Clearly someone dragged me back to Vegas, but for all I know I could’ve walked here myself all the way from Alabama. If I took something, I sure as hell don’t know what it was or who even gave it to me.”

“Who are your managers again?” Shay asked, a sure and almost knowing smirk on her face. Toni rolled her eyes – an action that hurt her head – as she realised what Shay was getting at. The Kray Twins weren’t the most law-abiding citizens in the world. To think they didn’t have some part in the massive void that currently filled Toni’s mind was naïve at best.

“So what, this was all one big morphine trip or something? You think the twins slipped me some extra strong aspirin and let me wander around Nevada for a couple days?”

“I don’t think they let you wander around, but I do think you let yourself loose after they gave you some kind of off-limits drug. Like I said: you were completely different last night. You actually showed restraint and didn’t try to eat me or anything in my fridge.”

“Hilarious,” Toni deadpanned, shifting an inch at a time in an effort to get up off the couch. “Can you drive me home, I need to get some damn sleep and I can already tell you won’t let me get it here.”

“Fine, just let me get dressed.” With that, Shay was gone, leaving Toni to her awkward shuffling and groaning. She wished the twins had given her some ‘extra strong aspirin’ – perhaps that would have stopped the morning’s aches and pains.

---

TONI GUNN’S APARTMENT

LAS VEGAS, NEVADA

The drive home had been filled with benign talk, the kind of meaningless chatter that left Toni’s head almost as soon as it entered. Shay had even pointed out several times that Toni wasn’t really listening to whatever first world problem she was explaining, and Toni confessed and agreed with as little enthusiasm as possible. It wasn’t that Shay was completely boring her – not entirely, at least – but Toni’s head just wasn’t there. She had stared out the car window, head resting back on the seat as she watched the whole world pass her by in a blur. It hurt her eyes, but she didn’t look away, not until she had to blink. Even though she knew she had been sitting in Shay’s car, the young woman in question sat beside her, Toni felt more lost than the pedestrians who were blurring into the rest of the city.

But she was grounded when she stepped past the threshold of her small, low-rent apartment. The muskiness of the place would be unpleasant for most sober guest (the likes of which Toni rarely had over), but it was a welcome relief for her. And the darkness – she loved it. The curtains were drawn, no lights were left on, and all she had to guide herself around was pre-existing knowledge and the faintest of light. Her head no longer felt as heavy, and though a light haze still lingered in her mind, she felt more relaxed now she was in comfortable surroundings.

Slipping through the self-made ruins known as her living room, Toni grabbed her phone off the worn-down coffee table and found two voicemails waiting for her. Two unknown numbers. As the voicemails began to play, Toni placed her phone down and grabbed a nearby beer bottle, glad to find it wasn’t completely empty. What she swigged down was warm and flat, but it cleared her throat and stopped her from thinking about the aches she could feel for just a second. Though as soon as she heard the familiar North London accent coming from her phone, she began to feel much more than just a few minor pains.

“Hey, Toni. It’s Dan. I know we haven’t spoken since what happened, but—“ Toni didn’t give the message a chance to finish. Snatching her phone up, she deleted the voicemail with an almost infuriated quickness. Hearing him speak was not what she needed right then, as was apparent by the headache that she could feel creeping into her skull, digging it’s claws into her brain. She was tempted to ignore whatever message was left for her, her eyes flickering over to the nearby wall as she envisioned herself tossing her phone against it. But she pressed on, more out of curiosity than anything else.

The next message wasn’t from him, nor was it from the Kray Twins – a genuine surprise. The voice at first was unfamiliar, but as the message continued, recognition hit Toni.

“This is Rachel Eaver, the journalist you spoke to a few weeks ago. I was wondering if you’d be available for a short interview soon. I know I’m supposed to go through your managers first, but I…found your number and thought I’d cut through all the BS. Call me back as soon as you can.”

Toni scoffed as the message ended, her modest reaction one fuelled by disbelief more than anything. She remembered Rachel, but honestly hadn’t given much thought to her or whatever news outlet she worked for since they first met. Regardless, Toni saved the journalist’s number, before promptly forgetting everything she had just listened to and retreating to her bedroom. The fog in her head was growing thicker, and her body felt stiffer. It was as if every muscle was working against her, shutting her down just as the Krays would probably love to have done after her loss at Rampage.

Tugging her shirt off as she entered her almost pitch black bedroom, Toni realised just how drenched in sweat the top was. In fact, she noticed exactly how much she was sweating right then. She touched her brow, her fingers coming away moist, and then a thought flashed through her disorientated mind: her dream. Or hallucination. She still had no idea what that whole episode had been, where she dreamt in shades of red and felt hands ripping her skin. Maybe she should have been panicking, breaking down as she thought back on what that could have all meant. Instead it calmed her. She glanced over at her bedroom mirror, caught a wisp of a scar on her back, and smiled. Bruises ran along her body, still fresh from her recent match, and she admired them for a second too long.

She lost, and God would the Krays jump down her throat for the next month for that, but Toni didn’t care in that moment. All she could think about was the hell she would give to everyone from then on out. First match, first loss – it was never a good predicament. But she would make the most out of it. Just like she made the most out of every other shitty predicament she had found herself in. That was for another day though. When the walls began to feel like they were closing in and her head began spinning again, Toni knew she needed rest. So she climbed into her bed, the covers still smelling of every conquest she had made in the past few months, and passed out. This time around, she didn’t dream in colour or in blood – she didn’t even dream at all. She was too far gone to do that any more.

- - E N D S C E N E - -