The Beginning In The End.

By: Druscilla White

Writing Prompt: No

Date: 26th Oct 2021

We battled; harder than I ever had before. We both were exhausted but the cunt just wouldn’t fall! My fists hurt, my knuckles bled, my blood mixed with Sarah’s. The crowd, it was so loud I could barely hear my own thoughts. Hell, I couldn’t hear the annoying voice of Henry in my head, yelling at me to dig deeper. Yelling, in his damned baritone, “Fortune and Glory, kid, Fortune and Glory!” I fought harder, dodging her jabs, sending my own into her chest or lower abdomen; I was tired, I was bloody, I never gave up.

I couldn’t give up.

This is who I am. Bare and bloody knuckles and all.

I was a fighter.

I was a demon in this arena; This is who I was meant to be.

Not the sad, scared 16 year old.

Not the rape victim.

Not the abused, tortured and broken young woman.

Not the Mafia Hit Woman.

I was meant to be a wrestler; a champion. Even among my club, I was the most dangerous one.

Just when I was about to collapse, something happened.

Sarah leaned upwards, her cracked and bloody lips touched my ear as she hissed; ”Your daddy was right, Dru, big brother isn’t here and it is your fault.” I roared! Enraged! But, before I could swing, she continued; “Such a shame big brother’s dead. So much for that promise, huh?” And that was it. I lost it.


Unbridled, unabashed Rage.

I saw red. Nothing could stop me. No one could stop me. I waylaid her; the left hooks to her skull were unrelenting. I wanted to cave her head in. I wanted to see her bloody, broken and hauled off in a fucking bodybag.

Finally, she dropped to the ground. I couldn’t contain my rage. ”You fucking CUNT!” I screamed, not recognizing my own voice; I was hoarse by now. ”Don’t you EVER….” As the count was called out, and I was declared the winner, I held my head high.

The cage rose and I left the pit, meeting with Miss F as she handed me the title belt. I took her hand and raised them both high. For the first time in my life; I was alive. And for a moment I thought I saw Danny in the crowd, smiling at me. I could almost hear him… “You did it bug…”

But before I could react, I was back in my apartment, looking out over the park…

I had called and called Memphis for several days and received a few texts back. I was angry. Rightly so, he was my Pack and hadn’t been home in what seemed like months. He had some serious explaining to do when I saw him next. Or when I saw Robi next, it seemed those two had been joined at the hip lately. He offered to protect her while she was on the road. I was glad, she deserved to have some fun and excitement; especially given everything that had happened to both of us this past year.

I knew Robi had her own career to think of, and she had been busy in Project: Honor defending her current title, but I did miss my Wolves family. I missed them dearly. But, little did I know, missing them and being able to call them and see them, would soon not be an option. In the days since I’d returned to my apartment in New York, after my small stay with Mario down in the Keys, I still hadn’t noticed the SUV. Or the woman who frequented the same coffee shop that I did. Or the older gentleman who chose to walk his dog in a rather spicy side of town.

For once in my life, I hadn’t been hyper aware of my surroundings.

I should have known better. I should have felt the wrong around me.

But, I let my guard down.

I had taken Mama’s advice and began to put myself ahead of a few other things on my “To Do” list of life. And in doing so, I put myself in danger. But I had no idea how much danger I was truly in. No one did. No one, that is, except for Robi. I had no idea that while she was in Chicago, she had been witness to what was the beginning of my downfall.

She had seen the person whom I had been assured was gone from my life, fed to the gators in my beloved bayou, buying information as to my whereabouts from a contact Of My Own!

Maybe if the person I had sent to do the job had actually done it…

Maybe if Robi had warned me beforehand…

Maybe if I hadn’t been so tunnel visioned…

I might have stood a chance walking away from this charity cruise with my life, instead of watching through fading eyes as my loved ones looked on in absolute horror.

Just maybe…

The Shoot

Dru was framed in the hull of a black plane; she was calm. Collected. Sexy. She grinned, flashing those well known fangs. “You know, I could go on and on about how mean I am. How vicious. How uncaring. But why? I’m sure both of you have your heads planted so far up each other’s cunts, you wear one another as a hat. Believing one or both of you can topple titans; beat Gods. Thinking you’ve beaten the heaviest hitters, the most dangerous villains; but you haven’t. Trust me, kittens, you haven’t seen shit. Now, I know you’ve had promising careers, so far, but what have you accomplished? Have you taken what you wanted most and held it? Defended a title that you took by shedding the blood of another? We have.” She grinned again, lighting a joint as she leaned against the hull of the plane again. ”You’ll learn who we are, kittens, of that I can promise you. You’ll learn why we’re The Wolves; the Champions of our field.” Dru sat there, one leg kicked out in front of her, the other curled behind it. She still had bruises and cuts from her previous match in Fight. Their first pay-per-view, and Dru wore them with pride.

”My sister? She’s the Ascension champ for a reason. Me?” She chuckled; darkly. “I’m the Bareknuckle champ. Wanna fuck around and find out why?” She took a drag and she yanked the straps around her bust tighter and smiled maliciously. “Look kittens, this is for charity, so I won’t send you both to the cemetery in teeny, tiny caskets; but I will put you in the infirmary for the rest of the cruise. Maybe longer. Who knows? But Valkyrie..? She may not be so kind. She’s ruthless.” She smirked.

Dru was decked in her usual garb; black, skin tight jeans, knee high stiletto boots and her FightNYC tank top. The Wolves of Odinn bandana was tied tightly around her long, silver curls. Roscoe and Diesel, still getting ready for what was about to happen, watched their boss intently. Meanwhile, the crew around them were talking about Dru’s latest match. The bloody win she held over Sarah Wolf at Fight! NYC’s Ascension PPV.

”Dude, she almost caved the girl’s skull in!” ”Fuck man, did you see the rage?!” ”She’s so little though…” ”Bro, she is fucking exquisite! A BEAST! Have you seen her club?”

Dru grinned, the cameraman caught the whole conversation between the flight crew and the pilot. But what came next, that was the real treat. Something she had planned for weeks for the cruise. Something only Diesel could arrange. Something equally as grand, befitting Tara Fenix herself. The crew hollered their commands to her and Dru stood; the FightNYC Tank top pulled tightly across her chest by the parachute on her back. “We’re Wolves, kittens. We hunt. We kill. We’re Pack. A family. And in this instance, in this ring, this fight? You’re prey, kittens. And when we step into that ring with you, we’ll attack. It’s nature.” She winked as one of the military men opened the hatch of the plane. Roscoe and Diesel stood; on either side of Dru and watched as she planted both feet firmly on the deck of the plane and stood up. She took the goggles Diesel handed her and smirked. ”No matter how much you try, you’ll never stand where Wolves can run. Valkyrie and The Prophet are here to crush your dreams.”

She slid the goggles on and flipped the bird, with both hands, as she ran at the mouth of the hatch and leapt off. Roscoe, Diesel and the cameraman followed her and watched in awe as she flew. She soared through the sky as soon the clouds made way to the bright, blue ocean and below them; Tara Fenix’ cruise ship. Diesel radioed into the ship, announcing their arrival ”Big Bird, The Prophet is flying. Repeat, The Prophet is flying.” Their acknowledgement was garbled though the two ex-military men could understand.

Diesel and Roscoe yanked their chute cords, and were yanked up into oblivion as they then began their slow descent while Dru pushed the limits. She had hit terminal velocity quickly. But she pulled her frame taut and zoomed lower and lower, all the while Roscoe was yelling in her ear. The cameraman was scared, rightly so, and he pulled his own chute. But Dru was one for flash. As she soon saw the ship barreling towards her at dangerous speed, she howled and yanked her chute.

The fabric unfurled revealing a large, black wolf, howling and the words FIGHT! NYC was emblazoned in bright red. The crowd on the deck of the ship began to gasp and cheer as she soared into view. Dru was ever ready to pull the release cord, when she was close enough to even entertain her chosen landing. As she spotted the Wolves cuts on deck, she smirked and looked into the personal camera attached to her chute. ”Look, I don’t know you, you know nothing about me, so let’s just agree right now; you will never be in the realm where we run. You fucked around, now it’s time to find out.” She yanked the release cord and soon plummeted a few feet to the deck of the ship. She had aimed herself perfectly.

She slammed down, in full superhero landing pose, right next to Robi Sorrenson herself. A massive smile across Dru’s face as she hugged her friend, pulling the goggles off. ”Hey bitch, you ready?” And that was when the party really started. Dru was a force of nature. She was a whirlwind; probably why she and Robi clicked the way they did. They were opposites of one another. Where one bent, the other stood strong; if one bled the other sewed the wound.

But sometimes, even the best of partners keep secrets from one another. Sometimes they’re miniscule details, other times… It’s life or death. In this unfortunate case, the latter seems probable. Despite it all, she stood as the twin pillar to Robi’s strength. As the Packs united for the first time, Baton Rouge with New York, it was clear; No one stood a chance when the Wolves came to the party. Mama stood with Henry, both watching over their daughter, and their adopted children, protectively. Roscoe stood with Diesel. Cela leaned against her husband. Helping him shed his chute rigging. But a few other faces poked from the crowd.

A dark haired stranger backed away from Memphis as he came to stand closer to Robi and Dru. Eyes never leaving Dru. And a heavy, borderline obese man, dressed in silk slacks and a three button shirt. Eyes, crazed and lustful, also watching Dru. For whatever reason, no one noticed the men. Not Roscoe. Not Diesel. Not Memphis. Not even Robi nor Dru.

There were two Alpha’s standing on the deck of that ship, and the two Alpha’s would rip and tear Dawn Halliwell and Warren Kane to pieces before the night was over. Before everything was said and done.

”Dawn Halliwell, Warren Kane, this is you being put on notice; Don’t you dare go easy. We certainly won’t. Wolves don’t know how to “go easy” when we hunt. Don’t assume you know us, you don’t know shit. Bloodshed and violence are in our nature. The Wolves are coming, kittens, the only advice I have for you…”

She grinned, that sickly, evil smirk of hers, those fangs of platinum glimmering in the sunlight.


Both Packs let out vibrant howls; feral and vicious. The way they had all come together was heartwarming. They were all Pack. Though different charters, they were all family, especially when it came to Robi and Dru. Mama and Henry, the surrogate parents/grandparents for the Wolves. When Henry returned to Mama and Dru’s lives, he brought with him a sense of fulfillment. A symbol that was family. He made all of the Wolves feel like he was their father, and they were his children. Like Diesel. Like Dru. Like Robi.

As the camera pulled back, exposing the massive herd of people surrounding them, some wearing Wolves cuts, some sporting some merch from either Valkyrie and Prophet; Robi and Dru stood side by side, and both women growled as the camera faded to black.

Neither of the women knew what could occur during this cruise. Only one had a clue that one of the stories would be coming to an end, but that person never dreamed it would be during an event for charity.

If the duo had simply shared their secrets…

If the bonds of trust and honor had been true…

If one of them wasn’t…

It seemed the Prophet had seen everything she was meant to see. However, she hadn’t seen when it would all end. But, Valkyrie would be there for her, as she always was, and maybe this is exactly what was meant to happen all along.

After Tara Fenix’s Charity Cruise, would the Valkyrie be the one to usher the Prophet to the lands of Valhalla?

Or, would the Prophet sink to the depths of Hel?