Meghan Strader vs. Clyde Sutter

[Konrad Raab]

2 RP Limit for singles

3500 Word Limit Per RP

Deadline: 11:59:59 pm ET Wednesday, August 27, 2025

[The Assassin]

1 of 2
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August 4th, 2025
Birmingham, England
Off Camera
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Rise To Greatness from Houston, Texas was a special night for Fate’s Chosen Assassins. For The Harbinger of Fate himself, Clyde Sutter, it was his first Rise To Greatness since to returning to Supreme Championship Wrestling earlier in the year. For his beloved fiance, Melinda Braddock, it was her Rise To Greatness debut. It was indeed very special for the both of them and, in the main event of the pre-show, they were victorious over Chance Owens and Kelsai Adamson. Fate had made its decision and Sutter and Braddock executed its will. It was never personal for either of them, they never held a grudge against Owens and Adamson. It was just a job they were doing on behalf of Fate. Yet still, despite the overall business nature of their approach to this match, Sutter and Braddock cannot help but feel good having left Houston with a victory under their belts. Now with this victory, Fate’s Chosen Assassin moves on to his next target and the next target happens to be someone who did not have a very good Rise To Greatness debut; Meghan Strader. Strader lost to Syren in her Rise To Greatness debut. There’s no shame in losing to Syren but this was a match Strader wanted to win badly. She had revenge on her mind. Fate, however, had other plans for Meghan Strader and now The Assassin is tasked with exacting more of Fate’s will upon Strader when SCW returns from hiatus for Breakdown from Orlando, Florida.

Before The Assassin can turn his focus entirely on Strader and the continuation of his SCW wrestling career, Sutter must turn his attention to a more important, deeply personal situation; namely the recent stalker that has been plaguing him and, indirectly, his beloved Melinda Braddock. Recently Sutter’s apartment in Charlotte, North Carolina, where his friend Joey had been staying, was broken into and ransacked. At first The Assassin was convinced that Joey himself was the target but now, after some thought, Sutter is beginning to believe that he himself is the real target. This concerns Clyde, not for his own safety, but because of the safety and well being of his beloved Melinda. If this individual is targeting Clyde, they may come after Melinda, or she may get caught up in the crossfire. Sutter’s initial investigation and research led him to suspect Callum Slater is to blame. Slater was a former student at the Glenn Braddock Wrestling school at the same time Sutter attended. As a student Sutter had a reputation for being too violent and ruthlessly beating students. Callum Slater is one such student Sutter injured and, perhaps, ended his wrestling career before it could even get started. Is Slater out for revenge? It is certainly a possibility that The Assassin cannot ignore.

Right now, Sutter is visiting his hometown of Birmingham, England with his lovely fiancee Melinda Braddock. On this bright afternoon in Birmingham, Sutter and Braddock are visiting the iconic Black Sabbath Bridge. The Assassin’s long black hair, thick and straight, fell past his shoulders. A trimmed beard framed his jaw, lending him a rugged presence that matched the grit of the city. He wore a dark leather jacket over a fitted charcoal gray shirt that clung to his chest. Faded black jeans tucked into heavy boots. Beside him, Melinda Braddock was a striking contrast. Where Clyde looked like the embodiment of hard edged Birmingham steel, Melinda radiated warmth. Her long blonde hair fell in loose waves, a golden halo against the overcast skies. She wore a light denim jacket over a soft white blouse, simple but feminine, with slim black trousers that balanced the casual with the stylish.

They stood together at Black Sabbath Bridge, the quiet canal stretching beneath them. The bridge itself bore the unmistakable tribute to Birmingham’s most famous sons; plaques and murals dedicated to Black Sabbath, the godfathers of heavy metal. On the far side, the stark, angular shapes of the city’s architecture framed the skyline, blending old industrial brickwork with modern glass and steel. The water below rippled with the occasional passing narrowboat, its paintwork bright against the muted tones of the city. Graffiti, some reverent and some not so much, decorated the walls near the bridge, while flowers and small tokens had been left at the Sabbath plaque, tributes from fans making their pilgrimage. The late afternoon sky was heavy with clouds, a soft gray blanket overhead, but here and there shafts of sunlight broke through, illuminating patches of the canal like spotlights on a stage.

“It’s hard to believe that it's all over.” Melinda says, tears forming in her eyes as she stares at the iconic monument. Sutter wraps a comforting arm around her shoulders.

“It isn’t over, my love. They will always be with you…just press play…”

“Really, Clyde?” Melinda rolls her eyes. “You stole that from an internet meme.”

“Guilty as charged.” Sutter chuckles. “Still, it is true; their music is iconic. Their music will live forever.”

“That final show was freaking incredible.” Melinda remarks with a wide grin. So much emotion, so much passion. And then Ozzy…” her voice trails off as she tries to compose herself. Sutter pats her gently on the back.

“He will forever be the best.”

“There will never be another Ozzy.” Melinda states. Sutter nods his head in agreement.

“You are correct. And dare I say, myself and the heavy metal god have a lot in common.”

“What?” Melinda arches her brow, partly due to curiosity and partly due to surprise at hearing her man even suggest this. She turns and folds her arms over her chest, as if waiting on an explanation.

“It is true.” The Assassin insists. Braddock shakes her head.

“Ok, you talk about Fate all the time, babe, and I bought into it. But comparing yourself to the Prince of Darkness is where I draw the line.”

“I made you ‘buy into’ Fate, as you so eloquently put it, yet you won’t even conceive that I could also be right about my similarities to Ozzy Osbourne?”

“No, I do not ‘conceive’ of that, Clyde.” Melinda says, almost taken aback by The Assassin’s suggestion. He just looks lovingly down at her and chuckles.

“Oh my love, I never thought you would be closed minded to anything.”

“Fine, you know what, I don’t want anyone to accuse me of being closed minded. Besides, this might be entertaining. So let’s hear it. I gotta hear this.”

“Consider this…he came from a poor, working class background. Me? I was orphaned. I had to fight for survival on the streets, practically raising myself. He fought tooth and nail to make something for himself through music. I had to fight like hell to make my way into the wrestling industry and to make my own mark and impact upon this business, using wrestling to improve my life. We both nearly lost everything we built for ourselves…him due to his addictions and me due to my anger problems…but we both overcame those obstacles.”

“I still find it incredibly ridiculous that you are trying to compare yourself to Ozzy.” Melinda remarks. Clyde shakes his head.

“Fair enough, perhaps it is a little unbecoming of me to try and compare myself to someone of his great standards? The truth is, my love, is that there is at least one thing that makes myself and Osbourne different.”

“Just one?” Braddock smirks. “Last time I checked you didn’t bite the head off of a bat or pissed on a national monument.”

“True…”

“You also don’t have your own reality show.”

“Yet.” Sutter chuckles. “But do you really think a reality show based on my life would entertain the masses?”

“Good point.” Melinda smirks. “Which just adds to what I said, you and him are not really the same….despite your best argument, babe.”

“Ok, let me clarify…A LOT of things make us different.” He holds up one finger. “But there is only thing in particular that concerns me.”

“And that would be what, exactly?” Melinda asks curiously. “What is the one big difference between you and Ozzy that has piqued your interest?”

“Ozzy Osbourne…Black Sabbath…they were beloved; still are beloved. The people in attendance of that final concert and the number of people watching…uncountable. Numerous. The crowds who showed up for his funeral procession? Immense. The world loved him, despite his flaws.” Sutter shakes his head. “I have made it as a wrestler. I have held championships. I make very good money, enough to treat you like the royalty you are….” his voice trails off. Melinda frowns.

“But…?”

“But I will never be beloved. The people will never accept me.”

“Do you WANT to be loved?” Melinda asks curiously. Sutter shakes his head.

“I do not need the acceptance or love of the people.” He turns and places both of his strong hands on her shoulders. “The only thing I need, the only thing I want, is to see you have a happy life.”

“Well you’re nuts.” Melinda takes his head, guides it down, and kisses him on the lips. “Because I need to be happy is you. As long as you are by my side we are going to be fine. Just look at us! Look at what we achieved at Rise To Greatness! You made your Rise To Greatness return, I made my Rise To Greatness debut, and we were successful!” She snickers devilishly. “We put Owens and Adamson in their place! We spoiled their little happy ending!” She pats Sutter on his massive chest. “And now you face Meghan Strader. You will get to put her in her place. You DO know how big a deal this is, don’t you?”

“I do.” Clyde nods his head.

“Well just in case you don’t, let me remind you. Strader was battling Syren at Rise To Greatness. Sure, Strader lost, but the mere fact that she was that high up on the card means something. You beat her, you can skyrocket past her to the top of the card. You could win more championships.” She grins knowingly. “Or you could earn more money to spend on me.”

“Yes, all of that is true.” Clyde sighs. He shakes his head. “I just wish that things were as simple as you make them out to be, my love.”

“It is that simple.” Melinda insists. She senses that something is bothering him, so she takes his hands and squeezes them tightly to try and comfort him. “We have each other. That’s all we need.”

The Assassin sighs as he turns and gazes back at the famous Black Sabbath monument, then he looks back at Melinda. He shakes his head. A sense of concern is etched across his face.

“The fact that we DO have one another could create problems for you, my love.” His voice cracks as he fights back the emotion. “I could not live with myself if you were harmed because of me.”

“Oh so that’s it.” Melinda says after a brief pause. “You’re still worked up about this stalker thing, aren’t you?”

“Like I said, myself and Osbourne do have a few things in common. We both overcame great obstacles to make something of ourselves. Callum Slater could have had a similar story, he could have had a nice success story like mine and he could have made a big name for himself.” He shakes his head. “Thanks to me, that did not happen and it never will happen.”

“That was a different time and you were a different person.” Melinda insists. “You have changed. You talk about how you and Ozzy are so similar? Ozzy changed. He fought his demons and overcame them. You fought your demons of anger and rage and you became a better person. Trust me, I would not be here with you, I would not be prepared to marry you, if I suspected that even the slimmest trace of the old Clyde was still there.”

“I love you, Melinda, and your faith in me gets me through each day.” Sutter says as he plants a kiss on her forehead. “But you are one of the very few who can look beyond my past and accept that I have changed. Even your mother refuses to accept that I am a better person now.”

“Screw my mother and her high and mighty opinions.” Melinda remarks.

“My point is that not everyone is like you, not everyone is willing to give me a second chance.” He sighs. “Callum Slater is a man who could have made it big in professional wrestling had I not injured him, permanently ending his career before it could even get started.”

“And you’re convinced he is the guy who is stalking you?” Melinda asks skeptically. “You are convinced he is out for revenge?”

“He and I come from the same background. We both were raised on the streets. Both of us knew only one thing; street justice. If he wants payback for what I did, he will get it the only way he knows how.”

“This is all well and good but you still don’t know for sure this Slater guy is responsible for anything.” Melinda shrugs her shoulders. “You have zero proof, Clyde. None.”

“I know him.”

“Do you really?” Melinda asks. “I thought he was just another student at my grandfather’s school; not like some close associate of yours, like Joey.”

“I know his type.” Sutter clarifies. “And his type would seek revenge.”

“You used to be that type. But you changed. Even if it is Slater, how do you know he hasn’t changed too?”

“What would you have me do?” Clyde asks, sounding more and more frustrated. “Ignore a potential threat?”

“No, I’m not asking you to ignore anything.” Melinda says soothingly. “I’m just asking you to calm down. You have more important things to do. You just came off of a victory at Rise To Greatness and this match against Strader on Breakdown will be huge. You cannot allow yourself to be distracted.”

“I won’t get distracted.” Sutter shakes his head. “But I also will not let this threat go ignored.” He runs his hand through Melinda’s long blonde hair. “I love you too much to risk your safety.”

“I appreciate it, Clyde, I really do.” She sighs. “But you don’t even know for certain if Slater is responsible for any of it. Like I said, you literally have zero proof.”

“Agreed.” He nods his head. “But I intend to find out really soon if my suspicions are correct.” He kisses Melinda on the lips. “No harm will come to you, my love. I swear it.”

“I worry about you.” Melinda says, shaking her head. “I know you mean well, Clyde; everything you do is for me, and it makes me feel wonderful but…” she sighs “...the things you do can be risky. I mean, what if Slater isn’t behind it but everything you plan to do, all this digging into his past, what if it provokes him? Then you’ve got a legit stalker and Slater both angry with you.”

“I have endured worse struggles.”

“Yes, but I care too much about you to see you get hurt.” She remarks. “Promise me you will play it safe.”

“I promise.” He says assuredly. “Besides, I do have an idea of where I could start my search.”

“Really?” Melinda furrows her brow. “It better not involve sending your pal Joey on any adventures. You know what happened the last time.”

“Don’t worry, my love, I have no intention of utilizing Joey or even doing anything slightly illegal. In fact, I intend to keep things in the family, so to speak.”

“What do you…wait…” Melinda’s eyes grow wide “...you’re not going to ask my mom for help are you?”

“God, no.” Clyde chuckles. “I would never think of asking her for help, not yet anyway.”

“Then what do you mean by family?”

“I’m going to see if your aunt can be of some assistance.”

“What the hell would she know about that guy you beat up?” Braddock asks curiously. Sutter chuckles and pats her on the back.

“Do not worry yourself, my love. Just trust me, everything will work out.”

“I will trust you on this one, babe.” Melinda says. “But you promise me that you don’t get too crazy obsessed over this, ok? Remember you still have your wrestling career. You still have SCW. This match against Meghan Strader is a big opportunity for you to step up to the next level in SCW.”

“Trust me, I know.” Clyde nods his head. “Rise To Greatness was just the beginning of my momentum. I intend to continue that momentum. Strader’s Fate is sealed.”

“That’s just what I wanted to hear.” Melinda says, smirking.

[CowgirlsFromHell]

Ride to Hell Part III: Crumbling Down

[The Assassin]

2 of 2
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August 16th, 2025
Roslin, Scotland
Off Camera
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The morning air in Roslin, Scotland carried the damp chill of late summer. Clyde Sutter’s broad frame filled the sidewalk as he strode toward the red-bricked building that housed The Julia Foundation. He looked every bit the man accustomed to heavy lifting, his shoulders squared and his chest set forward with the kind of quiet confidence that drew the eyes of passersby. His long black hair, tied loosely at the nape of his neck, brushed against the collar of his fitted leather jacket. The coat itself had seen better days, faint creases and softened edges betraying years of wear, but on him it carried the same rugged dignity as his weathered boots. Beneath it, his dark shirt clung to a muscular torso carved by discipline more than vanity, a frame that gave the impression he could hold up the world if asked. Clyde’s piercing eyes scanned the block, noting the faint smell of exhaust that lingered on the breeze, the distant sound of traffic humming through the city, and the sharp cries of gulls circling above the canals. The Julia Foundation stood out here, not for grandeur, but for its warmth. The building was modest in size, a refurbished community hall with high windows trimmed in white, the kind that let the light in generously even on overcast days. A hand-painted sign over the door declared its name: The Julia Foundation. The words were framed by a mural of open hands painted by local volunteers.

Through the glass door Clyde could see the stirrings of the morning routine. Volunteers moved about inside, carrying crates of food or refilling urns of steaming tea. The scent of coffee and warm bread drifted faintly outward each time someone entered or exited, pulling in the city’s most vulnerable with a promise of sustenance and safety. Beyond the reception desk, the main hall opened wide, with folding tables and chairs neatly arranged in rows, some already filled by the weary faces of those who sought refuge here. On one wall, bulletin boards overflowed with handwritten notes, job postings, and recovery meeting schedules; small signals of lives struggling to stitch themselves back together. At the heart of it all was Julia Braddock. She moved with grace between the tables, offering a smile here, a reassuring hand on a shoulder there. Her blonde hair, styled neatly, caught the overhead lights in soft glints of gold, and her attire stood out among the simple clothes of the staff: a cream blouse with delicate lace at the cuffs, paired with a flowing skirt that carried a quiet elegance. Everything about her presence radiated a gentle strength, an aura that seemed to lift the atmosphere of the room just by existing. She was not aloof, despite her polished appearance; her heels clicked softly on the floor as she bent down to speak with a hunched man nursing a chipped mug of tea, her expression one of genuine concern.

Clyde squared his shoulders once more, brushing a hand through his dark hair before stepping inside. The warmth of the hall enveloped him at once, both in temperature and in spirit. Volunteers glanced his way briefly, some curious at the imposing figure in their midst, before returning to their duties. His boots echoed against the tiled floor as he crossed the threshold into Julia’s world, each step carrying him closer to the woman he had come to see. Julia straightened from her conversation and turned, her eyes immediately finding him with a flicker of recognition. She smoothed her skirt almost unconsciously, her smile softening into something more familial.

“Clyde…” her voice trails off as she scans him up and down. Her voice is polite and warm, friendly even, but Clyde can tell that there is a sense of fraud. He can tell she is faking it. But he lets her continue regardless. “...what a pleasant surprise.”

“Ms. Braddock, you really are quite the actress.” He chuckles, a clear shot taken at his future family member. Braddock shakes her head.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You do not have to pretend, Ms. Braddock. You do not have to act like you are happy to see me.” The Assassin shakes his head. “I know full well that I am not exactly the most well liked and welcomed person by the Braddock family. Your sister doesn’t trust me to treat her daughter well and I suspect you do not trust me, either. Am I correct?”

There is a tense and awkward pause as the two lock eyes. Finally Julia Braddock sighs and nods her head.

“Fine, you’re right.” She shakes her head. “I don’t trust you. And you’re right, outside of my niece Melinda, no Braddock really trusts you at all.”

“See? Isn’t honesty truly the best policy?” Sutter asks with a grin.

“Forgive me for trying to be polite.” She rolls her eyes. “But seriously, Clyde, if you know how far down on the totem pole you rank in this family tree, why are you here?” She places her hands on her hips, glaring at him judgmentally. “I admit, I was surprised to see you bringing yourself here.”

“I need your help.”

“You need my help?” Julia snickers. “Now that is rich. You asking a Braddock for help is very rich!”

“It wouldn’t be the first time you and I worked together, Ms. Braddock.” The Assassin remarks. “If you recall, we worked together to get your niece…my beloved Melinda…the rehabilitation she needed and to keep a secret from her mother.”

“I do remember. But I did that for Melinda, not for you.” Julia states coldly.

“Yes, I remember.” Sutter nods his head. “And what I need from you could be necessary to protect Melinda.”

This statement instantly gets a rise out of Julia Braddock, who arches her brow out of curiosity. She sighs and nods her head.

“Fine…follow me to my office.”

The Assassin grins. Julia turns and marches down the hall with Clyde bringing up the rear. The volunteers and other staff watch curiously, wondering why this man is here, what business he has with Julia Braddock. Sutter ignores their curious gazes. He has far more important things on his mind right now. Braddock and Sutter finally reaches the end of the hall and an office door. The blonde opens the door and steps inside. The Assassin follows her inside and shuts the door behind him. The office itself is plain decor with simple cream colored walls with no windows, only a few small chairs, and a large wood brown oak desk with a simple computer. Braddock sits down at the desk. Clyde sits down as well.

“So what do you want, Clyde?”

“Information.” He states pointedly. “Information about a particular individual who might have come here to seek treatment or help of some sort, help that your lovely organization provides.”

“I see.” Julia sighs. “There’s two problems here, Clyde. First of all, the information you seek is likely confidential and me telling you would be illegal.”

“I understand.”

“And do you understand that you are asking me, a Braddock who has problems with you, to do something illegal to help you?”

“Yes, I understand.” He nods his head. “But as I said, this is about Melinda, not me.”

“Is she in trouble?” Julia asks. Clyde shakes his head.

“No, but I might be in trouble and you should know that if I am in trouble, if I am being targeted by someone with a grudge, your niece could get caught in the crossfire. It wouldn’t be the first time she got caught in the crossfire due to simple guilt by association. Ask the Van Stanton family.”

The Van Stanton name is a callback to a bad memory for the Braddock family. Melinda dated Archie Van Stanton who was the target of a drive by shooting and Melinda was caught in the crossfire. Julia sighs and nods her head.

“You made your point. What do you want to know?”

“I need to know about an individual named Callum Slater. He was a student at your father’s wrestling school at the same time as I attended.”

“Let me guess.” Julia smirks. “You beat him up.”

“I injured him, yes.” Sutter nods his head. “I need to know if he stopped by your foundation to receive help after he was injured.”

“Let me check.” Julia turns to the computer and starts keying away. It isn’t long before she stops typing and nods her head. “Yes, a man by that name did stop by here for some help.”

“Where is he now?”

“Now that is confidential information.” Julia turns and glares at him. “So keep it to yourself. Understand?”

“I understand.”

“Fine.” She sighs. “The Julia Foundation did help him get a job after his recovery. The last time I heard from him, he had a job working in a restaurant in London.” She takes out a pen and paper. She scribbles something down and hands it down to Clyde. “There’s the address.”

“Good.” Sutter says. “Thank you, Ms. Braddock.”

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August 27th, 2025
Orlando, Florida
On Camera
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Clyde Sutter stood tall and commanding in front of the Kia Center. The warm Orlando evening breeze caught strands of his long black hair, making it shift across his shoulders as if it had a life of its own. Fate’s Chosen Assassin wore a tailored navy suit framed his muscular build, the jacket fitting snugly across his broad chest and tapering neatly at the waist. The crisp white dress shirt beneath was open at the collar. His black leather shoes were polished to a mirror shine, reflecting the neon glow from the arena lights overhead. Beside him, Melinda Braddock was every bit the vision of elegance. Her long blonde hair cascaded down in loose, soft waves, the golden hue catching and shimmering under the arena’s bright facade lighting. She wore a flowing sapphire-blue dress, the color deep and striking against her fair complexion. The dress hugged her form in all the right places before falling gracefully just past her knees, the hem shifting lightly whenever the evening breeze stirred. Around her neck was a simple silver pendant, understated but radiant in the glow of the city lights. Her heels added a touch of sophistication, though she leaned with ease against Clyde’s arm, comfortable and steady in his presence. The Kia Center loomed behind them, its modern design a beacon in downtown Orlando. The massive glass panels glowed with reflections of the evening sky, tinged pink and orange as the sun set.

“We say it time and again, we preach it with our words and illustrate it with our actions. What else must myself and my man, my Assassin, do to prove to each and every one of you that Fate is not just real but it is oh so very active?” Melinda asks with a sinister grin on her face. “Adam Brock thought he was in control of his Fate but where is he now? Gone. Ryan LeCavalier thought she controlled her Fate but what happened when she took on The Assassin? She wants nothing more to do with him. Chance Owens and Kelsai Adamson thought that they could take Fate into their own hands but look at what happened to them at Rise To Greatness. One after another, Fate chooses its victims and those victims fall. When will you accept the pure unadulterated fact that Fate is in control? Fate writes the script, we are all but merely actors and actresses in its play, and when your part in its play has come to an end, you will either exit the stage willingly or Fate’s Chosen Assassin will take you out by force.” The Third Generation Goddess motions to herself then to Sutter. “It was destined by Fate that I would win my Rise To Greatness debut. It was destined by Fate that my man would make his return at Fatal Fortunes and take this company by storm, destroying anyone and everyone who dares to get in his way. Everything that has happened has been by Fate’s design and whether you like it or not, and regardless of how long it takes, the script has been written, the final scene of this play has been written, and it ends with myself and The Assassin standing alone as the most dominant force in Supreme Championship Wrestling. Rise To Greatness was just a mere preview of coming attractions.” Melinda snickers. The Assassin leans over and plants a kiss on her lips.

“I could not have said it better myself, my love.” Sutter straightens back up and turns to face the camera. “Things happen for a reason and that reason is Fate. Mr. Brock, Ms. LeCavalier, Mr. Owens, and Ms. Adamson never could grasp this. Once, a long time ago in a different lifetime, I did not understand it. Once I, like so many of you watching this, believed that I was in control of my own destiny. I believed that my rage, my anger, and brute violence could be used to carve out my own path. I was a hot headed man back then who made quick, very bad decisions; decisions that nearly ruined my career. Then my eyes were opened to Fate. I realized that Fate was in control. Thus I channeled that anger, that rage, and that violence into a more productive manner. I used it to do Fate’s bidding. Since then I began to win championships all over the country. Since then I got signed to a new SCW contract and won my first SCW championship. Now I am making more money than ever before and I have Fate to thank for it.” Fate’s Chosen Assassin points at the camera.

“Ms. Strader, you remind me a great deal of the man I used to be; hot headed, quick to anger, little thought behind the actions you take. Now by all means, Ms. Strader, do not mistake this as a slight or disrespect. I watched with great interest your own road to Rise To Greatness. You targeted one of the most decorated athletes in this company’s history…you targeted Syren.” He claps his hands slowly. “And I applaud you for your grit and determination in going after a multi-time world champion like her. I applaud you for targeting someone who will no doubt go down in history as one of the best to ever do it in SCW. You pushed Syren to her limit. You had quite the performance on the show of shows, Ms. Strader. Alas you failed in your quest to put her down. What could have been a breakthrough moment for you turned into a failure on the grandest stage. And to what do we attribute this failure?”

“Fate.” Melinda says simply with a knowing grin. Sutter nods his head.

“Indeed, my love. Fate wrote the script for Rise To Greatness. Fate looked at you, Fate looked at Syren, and Fate decided that you were not worthy of victory. Second question, Ms. Strader, is what did you do that made Fate frown upon you? What made you so unworthy in the eyes of Fate? The answer is simple; you did not target Syren in order to prove yourself as one of the best ever. You targeted Syren out of a hot-headed, temperamental decision to seek vengeance over a slight. Syren damaged your beloved motorcycle and you wanted to get your pound of flesh.” The Assassin chuckles. “You wanted revenge, Syren wanted to earn a world title shot. That is what made you two different on that night and that is why you lost. It really is as simple as that. Now I understand your position, Ms. Strader, because I was once you. I was once that hot headed man, quick to anger, quick to violence, knowing only vengeance. But I have changed and since that change I became far more successful and my future here in SCW is brighter than ever before.” He points a finger at the camera, as if pointing at Strader herself.

“Your future, Ms. Strader, is looking very bleak, especially tomorrow night on Breakdown when you come face to face with Fate itself. It is painfully clear to myself and anyone else watching that you still haven’t learned your lesson. You still are too hot headed, too temperamental to think clearly. Those character flaws will be your downfall. You failed to think clearly at Rise To Greatness and you failed. I have no doubt in my mind that you are watching this, you are hearing my words, and the anger inside you is ready to boil over. In fact, I am counting on it. I am counting on you being angry and thus making yet another bad judgment call, one I will exploit.”

“Clyde Sutter is on a different path than you are, Meghan Strader.” Melinda Braddock chimes in. “He recognized his flaws and corrected them. He recognizes that Fate is in control and has accepted it. You fail to recognize your flaws and thus are unable to correct them. You, like all of the others, foolishly believe that you are in control of your own destiny, you foolishly believe that Fate has no say in your career when, in actuality, Fate is in total control of everything. Fate has written your endgame, Strader, and your endgame will be executed tomorrow night at the hands of Fate’s Chosen Assassin.”

“It will truly be my honor and privilege to be the one who gets to put an end to you tomorrow night, Ms. Strader. Just please, take some advice from me, and accept the reality that Fate has dictated your path.” Clyde sneers at the camera. “Your Fate is sealed.”

[CowgirlsFromHell]

Ride to Hell Part IV