The lights in the IRW Arena dimmed as the sound system crackled to life. A distinctive theme song played, and the crowd erupted.
Tracey Prince.
The women's champion walked out on stage, in ring gear, but moving gingerly. Bandages were tightly wrapped around her stomach and ribs, the remnants of Maya Hart's brutal attack still present. As the crowd witnessed Tracey's slight limp, the cheering turned into chants of support. Signs reading "GET WELL TRACEY" and "CHAMP FOREVER" were shown in the masses. For the first time, the fans had real sympathy for her.
Noah's voice commanded a response from commentary. "Look at her! Last week, Maya tried to put her on the shelf, but Tracey is still here, still fighting."
Irvin interjected, "That's gutsy, Noah. She could've stayed home, but instead, she has come out here, to stand her ground. That is the heart of a champion!"
Tracey climbed onto the ring slowly, gripping the microphone as tightly as can. She raised one hand, the free hand, and managed to get the crowd's chants to quieten down for just a moment, to get a chance to talk.
"Last week," she began. Her tone was as strong as it could be, with the pain present, "Maya Hart proved what we all already knew, she is a coward."
The audience roared.
"She didn't fight me like a woman. She didn't fight me from the front. She attacked me from behind!" Tracey readied herself; she was so angry, her face twisted in rage. "She tried to break my ribs; she tried to eliminate me from All In. She thought she could intimidate me into quitting."
Tracey raised her head defiantly, the championship belt shimmered on her shoulder.
"But here I stand. And three days from now, at All In, no matter what underhanded antics she tries, no matter how low she goes, I promise each and every one of you - I will beat Maya Hart and leave as your Women's Champion!"
The crowd erupted into a frenzy. Chants begin to echo through the arena: "CALL HER OUT! CALL HER OUT!"
Tracey paced the ring, pointing towards the stage. "So come on, Maya. If you're so tough, if you really think you can beat me, come and face me right now!"
The chants intensified. "MAYA! MAYA! MAYA!"
And then her music hit. The boos were instant, cascading throughout the arena as the fans showered their wrath on the sound of Maya Hart's theme. Tracey steadied herself, focused on the entrance ramp, poised and ready to fight.
Yet, no one came.
Seconds dragged on. Tracey tilted her head in confusion. The music continued, but no Maya.
Within the crowd, Luke was frozen. He noticed it first—what was that? A cloaked person just passed by him and Tony and doggedly headed directly for the barricade. Luke's stomach dropped.
"Wait..." he said softly, squinting.
The cloaked person vaulted the barricade, hopped on the apron, and into the ring with the grace and speed of a pro. The gasps from the audience were instantaneous. Before Tracey noticed it—
The figure struck from behind with a nasty clubbing strike to her back. Tracey collapsed to the mat. The cloaked person wasted no time in stomping the crud out of her bandaged ribs, kicking with brutal intention. The crowd was booing so loud.
Noah yelled, "That has to be Maya! That has to be her under there!"
Irvin growled, "Look at the cheap shots! Right to the injured ribs!"
The attacker pushed back the hood—and the arena went ballistic (i.e., exploded in boos).
Maya Hart beamed, her expression twisted and defiant as she cackled at the now furious crowd. Maya reached down, took the women's championship belt off Tracey's lifeless body, and raised it above her head. The booing grew louder and loud enough for trash to be thrown at the ring in disgust.
Tony glanced sideways at Luke. "That's your sister, eh?"
Luke's face was pale and he clenched his jaw, but said nothing while his anger roiled underneath.
Maya was parading around the ring, championship lifted above her head. "I'm the true champion!" she shouted over the now deafening booing.
But suddenly the boos shifted. The pitch of the crowd changed. Cheers started to rise.
Maya's smile stopped but she turned around quickly - only to see Tracey pulling herself up on the ropes, on fire and despite the pain, she was ready to fight. The crowd erupted.
Noah was up on his feet. "Tracey won't stay down! The champion still has fight in her!"
Maya turned around, but it was too late. Tracey kicked out and her foot landed squarely in Maya's midsection. Maya buckled and the championship belt slipped from her hands.
Tracey grabbed her, hooked her head, and slammed her with a thunderous DDT right in the middle of the ring! The crowd went absolutely wild, on their feet, screaming at the top of their lungs.
Irvin shouted, "Tracey just planted Maya! The champ is still standing tall!"
Tracey winced and held her ribs as Maya's DDT obviously took its toll, but she wasn't finished! She crawled over to the belt, picked it up, and lifted it above her head in the air as the audience erupted in such thunderous applause. Maya opted to roll to the outside and cradle her head, her smile gone and regretful look on her face.
The last shot before the commercial break was Tracey Prince, sweat running down her face, clutching her abdomen but still holding her championship up high, a wounded champion still standing tall.
------
When the segment was finished, Maya walked backstage and made her way to where Tracey was sitting and being checked by trainers. The cocky attitude she had earlier was gone; now she seemed concerned.
"Hey," she asked quietly, "did I ... did I kick too hard out there?"
Tracey waved her off but was still holding her ribs.
"Don't worry. I'm fine. You're doing a brave job out there, Maya. I know facing a crowd like that is not easy."
Maya managed a shaky smile. "I almost froze when I heard them booing like that. But I pushed through."
Nearby, Vince and Lance stepped briefly off to the side and clapped lightly. Vince nodded. "That is what makes a star, Maya. You embraced the hate, and you didn't fold."
Lance agreed. "The crowd hated you. That means you're doing your job better than anybody."
Maya exhaled, relieved. Mark Rivera, clipboard in hand, was already overseeing the next segment, a singles men's match. Vince grasped Tracey's shoulder.
"Go home early tonight. Go get checked again, spend time with your husband. You have done enough for one night."
Tracey managed a weak smile. "Thanks, boss."
The live coverage returned to the ring where a match was already going on. Diego Cortez and Victor Cross were in a heated match. The audience was still on fire after the started quickly, but the audience was already feeling the match and getting into the performance.
Diego, the high flyer, was using his speed, darting around the ring landing quick kicks to Victor. Victor, the arrogant powerhouse, countered with power, and slapped Diego mid sprint with a spinebuster that shook the ring.
Noah yelled, "What impact! Victor Cross nearly drove Diego through the mat!"
Diego barely kicked out at two. He rolled to the ropes to get his breath back. The audience clapped rhythmically to motivate Diego.
Victor smirked, taunted the audience to cheer him on, and began to pull Diego to the corner to set him up. He set him on the top rope and climbed up with bad intentions.
Irvin was clearly worried. "What is he doing up there? This is dangerous!"
Victor was setting up for a huge superplex, but Diego reversed the maneuver and elbowed repeatedly and the crowd went wild as Victor wobbled, lost his balance, and fell back to the mat. Diego regained his balance, charged his eye, and focused hard.
Noah yelled, "He's going for it!"
Diego leaped off the top rope with a sensational 450 Splash maneuver, twisting before he crashed down on Victor. The referee slid in.
One!
Two!
Three!
The bell rang and the fans erupted with cheers. Diego raised both arms in victory, the underdog flying high once again.
"Noah," Irvin said, almost breathless, "Diego Cortez just picked up a huge win! That's some momentum going into All In!"
"That splash was a thing of beauty!" Noah exclaimed. "Victor thought he had him, but Diego never stopped fighting!"
Somewhere across the country, Michael Myers sat back on the couch, eyes wide, watching the replay of Diego's 450 Splash on TV. He buzzed with adrenaline, blood boiling with excitement.
"Damn..." he said to himself. "I have to see this live."
He grabbed his phone, immediately open when he hit the airline app.
"All In, huh? Screw it. I'm booking tickets. I'm going."