06-18-2024, 10:06 PM
***Earlier we saw an important day in the life of Olive Zdunich, the woman behind the wrestler named Eavan Maloney. Today, we get to see the woman who became known as Sykobitty.***
We find our half-sized giant in a run-down building with a wrestling ring in the middle of the floor. An older Italian man who, despite his age, still has the physique of a man half his age comes out of a back room to greet her.
“If it ain’t Lil Sprout. What brings you up here?”
“Hey, Tony, haven’t seen you around the House for awhile.”
“Business keeps me busy. You know how it is.”
“Yep. Think I can have my Zombie back soon?”
“You know she’s a lot like you. She’s a shark, gotta keep movin’. As for havin’ her back, this case is provin’ harder than we thought. We knew the ring went deep, didn’t realize how deep.”
Tony motions to a bench and the two sit down. Eavan is becoming concerned about what she’s just been told. Tony is Zombie’s step-father and former trainer. He is also the owner of a bail bondsman practice that has helped Eavan and the Devil’s Doves out on a few cases, including one that has taken some months of work already. In 2022, the Doves were tipped off to a human trafficking ring and were able to extract the children, mainly girls, from said ring. The investigation then began to track down the people involved so that they could shut the ring down completely to avoid it happening again.
“How many we talkin’? I can send you a few more to help out if you need it?”
“Will definitely take you up on that. We’ve sent a few upstate the… *Tony lifts his hands to do finger quotes* right way and a few got done our way but we’ve hit some intel about a few higher-profile people being involved so that’s a little more delicate.”
Eavan straddles the bench so she can look at Tony straight-on, especially as her curiosity was piqued by these ‘higher-up’ people.
“How high?”
“Governor’s office high. No proof of actually handling the merch, but definite proof of cover-up. Couple of Dons bought power as they do.”
Eavan pounds the bench in immediate anger and frustration, realizing what she, and they, are up against.
“So we got to take down an entire Family.”
“Three, actually.”
“Oh, fuck.”
“Oh fuck indeed.”
Eavan rubs her temples, a calming mechanism she’s picked up over time. She lays back on the bench in exasperation and closes her eyes.
“You know this’ll get messy.”
“Not if we’re smart. See, doing shit on the up-and-up gives us some additional benefits here. We just gotta make sure we get the right folks on our side, folks that won’t get took.”
Still laying back on the bench, Eavan is coming to the realization this is a case that is going to take probably every physical resource she has, and considerable financial resources as well.
“How wide a net do we need?”
“We’re talking cross-border. We’s gonna need to go fed level and yeah, resources are thinning quick.”
“Get with Topino. Anything you need is yours. We can’t fail in this.”
“I know, Sprout. If anything, at least from what we know, there hasn’t been any new merchandise bought. Could they have gotten smarter? It’s possible. Another upside, we’re working on turning a second-in-command who was supposedly unaware of what they were buying and selling. He’s got kids of his own so he gets it. If we can turn him, we’ve got a bigger chance of shutting it all down with little collateral but he’s asking a lot.”
Merchandise was Tony’s code word for ‘children’ to keep his emotions detached from his work. A lesson he’s tried to teach Eavan constantly and has yet to work yet he continues to do so subtly. Eavan sits up, as her anger and rage come over her.
“Give him what he wants, with the caveat that if he fucks us, I fuck him in return. In front of his children.”
“Shit.”
“T…”
The look Eavan shoots Tony is enough to make him move back subconsciously.
“Yeah, I know. I’ve seen that side of you. I’ll make sure the message’s sent. Now why are you REALLY here? You look like you’re ready to fight.”
Eavan cocks an eyebrow at Tony, like he has just stated the obvious considering the mindset he has put her in. Her conversational tone shifts abruptly as the anger and rage flows through her.
“Got a match.”
“You don’t need training.”
“You’re right, I need weapons. I need to remember how they feel.”
“You want me to hit you with weapons?”
“Problem?”
Tony watched her go from Olive the woman to Eavan the Dove to Sykobitty the Dove and wrestler and bona fide head case. All in the length of this conversation. Tony even smiled in pride that Eavan had showed restraint up until this point.
“Why me?”
“Do I need to remind you that I recall your history?”
Tony’s lip curled as Sykobitty looked up at him with a smug look on her face.
“You like to bring that up, don’t you?”
“I know it works. Now, what do you have?”
Tony backed off and started walking around the warehouse, noticing the weapons he had at their disposal.
“Standard array. Chairs, tables, canes, chains, thumbtacks, staple guns. Might be able to improvise a few things if we need to. Who’s the opponent?”
“Name’s Kimberly Williams, and from what I’ve seen, bitch is probably about as crazy as I am.”
Tony, without even looking at her entering the ring, continues looking around the warehouse, looking for other things that can be used.
“Sprout, ain’t nobody crazier than you. You being here asking me this favor is proof of that. I’ve got to ask, though. Think it wise to go through all of this right before a match?”
As Tony walks to the ring, Eavan is running the ropes and doing rolls in the ring as a warm-up. Eavan stops as Tony approaches.
“I look at it like this. I survive you, I get patched up, show up for the match, and what? I pop some stitches and I bleed all over the place? I’m going to bleed anyways. I’m going to get beat up anyways. I’m always fighting from underneath so this ain’t anything new. It’s just…”
Eavan starts to get antsy, even going so far as to start scratching her own arms and shivering. Tony grabs her by the shoulders in hopes of calming her down.
“You’re an addict, Sprout. Pain, drugs, booze, sex, it’s all the same shit. You’re chasing a dragon.”
Eavan quickly grabs Tony’s head, leaps up, and drops down on the mat with her knees tucked up, drilling them into Tony’s face, deliberately breaking his nose. As Tony rolls out of the ring, Eavan sits on the ropes and smiles a mischievous grin.
“Nah. This time I’m out to slay one. Let’s fight.”
For the next solid hour, Eavan taunted Tony at every opportunity. Forcing his hand to grab whatever weapon he could get his hands on, Eavan would goad him into hitting her. Any hesitation on his part and Eavan would strike his already broken nose, angering the old vet. Finally, Tony had enough and proceeded to lift welts and break skin all over Eavan, causing her to groan from the initial contact to outright laughing as she staggered around the ring. After the beatings were over, Tony lifted Eavan to her feet as she lay on the mat, smiling.
“Fuck I missed that.”
“You should get checked.”
“Psh, I’ll take a salted ice bath when I get home. I’ll be fine.”
“You’re crazy, you know that?”
“Aww, a beating AND a compliment.”
“Think you got what you needed?”
“Oh yeah. Williams can’t do shit I haven’t endured before. Her title is as good as mine.”
“Title? You didn’t mention it was a title match.I wouldn’t have gone so easy on ya.”
“Why do you think I kept smacking you in the face? Had to wake up the old wolf so he’d hit harder. You’re getting soft in your old age.”
Tony adjusts his crooked nose and chuckles.
“Lucky you’re one of my favorite folks, Sprout. I’d have killed people for less.”
Eavan chuckles and hugs him.
“I know. And thank you.”
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kimberly, Kimberly, Kimberly. I don’t mean to insult you, or your legacy, by diminishing anything you’ve done in your career, but I’ve noticed a pattern as I looked you up. Both professionally and personally, I might add. Oh, honey, if you knew the contacts and information I can pull on practically anybody I need to, I could have been an ally. I can’t say I would have made you a better person; you seem to enjoy hanging just under the radar. Which made me question why, and my theory is that you’ve never been made to feel good enough. There’s always been someone, somewhere, holding you down. Repeated actions become the norm, and I think years of being told you’re weak, you’re worthless, you’re not enough… you began to believe it. You believed, and then you began to hate yourself for believing it so you created a front. You created this badass person so nobody can see who the real you is.
But I see you. I see you because I see me. You and I are not so different, which is why the very first time we crossed paths, there was that instant spark of respect. People like us attract people like us, whether we know it consciously or not. We’re the broken toys in the cosmic toybox. And not only do people like us know people like us, but sometimes people in high places see us… and see money. They know putting two broken toys in the same playground draws attention. The fans know you and they’re starting to know me. And everyone, even you included, knew the time would come when we’d meet on opposite sides.
I mentioned you staying under the radar, and maybe my theory is right, so I’ll share another. What if this rage you have boiling under your skin is because somewhere along the way in your career, the proverbial ‘they’... were actually right? What if they saw you and knew you’d grow up with certain limitations but those limitations were those you had to learn about yourself? How do I know or, giving you the benefit of the doubt, why do I THINK you have these limitations? I look at your accomplishments her in SCW. Trios Tournament Winner. World Tag Team Champion. Television Champion. United States Champion. And now, currently, the Underground Champion. You’ve been all over this company for years and yet the one accolade I DO not see… is a World Championship. So what’s the story? Are you going to lie to me and say it isn’t an opportunity you’ve pursued yet? Or are you going to admit to me, and yourself, that maybe you’re just not as good as you think you are?
Is the realization that perhaps you ARE weak and useless the reason you don’t consider yourself a mother? Oooooh, did I go there? I told you I looked you up. Juvenile and medical records aren’t as sealed as people think they are, especially when one has the know-how to bypass certain things.
Yes I’m aware of how badly I cut you with that, and I make no apologies. What I WILL say, however, is that I’m far from innocent. In fact, I’ll even give you knowledge for knowledge. I gave up my daughter to the foster system when I gave birth to her at sixteen. Fifteen years later, I learned she had been sold into shit that I’ll leave to your imagination and my crew got her and others out of there. I was thrust back into motherhood at thirty-one. Me, a former junkie and alcoholic who’s tried to take myself off of this rock a few dozen times. The fuck did I know about motherhood, but I had to become one. For her. And then for a couple of more almost a year later. I made that choice so that THEY could potentially have a better life than I had. It’s a sacrifice I’d make again in a heartbeat. What I’m getting at is that once you have a kid, life isn’t about you anymore. It’s about them. Connect with your kid, you both deserve it and need it.
Now, I know I said some things here today that’s going to make you want to kick my ass. In your mind, you’re already thinking “how dare she…”. Guess what, it’s what I do. It’s how I motivate my opponents. See, I ain’t no cheerleader. I don’t blow smoke up peoples’ asses and build up the good in them. I find the thing that scares them most. I find the thing that makes them feel the most human. The most raw. I find that mental scab and I pick at it until it bleeds again. Until you have to relive it and face it. I want you mad because I want you focused. This coming Breakdown, I don’t give two shits about any level of mutual respect. You are merely the person holding something I want.
The Underground Championship. A title I guarantee you hold onto tightly because it’s the only thing that makes you FEEL something.
You asked me what makes me different, what makes me believe that I can dethrone the…
…the…
CUNT of the Underground. I refuse to use that word, and you know the one I mean. What makes me different is the fact there IS no difference and that should scare you. These hall of famers you mentioned to give yourself that extra bit of clout - I’ll get to THAT in a minute - all had one thing in common. They WERE different. And in those differences, you learned how to beat them. Yes, you’ve had to fall a few times before you crawled your way back, but you did. You learned what made THEM different and learned how to beat them. But what happens when you have to face yourself?
DO you ever look in a mirror, Kimberly? With everything you’ve gone through in your life, with everything that’s even been said to you, and about you. The things you unconsciously grew to believe. What do you see in that reflection? What do you hope to hide and keep hidden? I already know, I dropped a few crumbs already. So what happens when that reflection in the mirror, that real you that you try to hide… is the one standing across from you come Breakdown?
Appropriate name for the show, will it not? Thing is, Kimberly, I’ve already beat you. I’m in your head. If I wasn’t, you wouldn’t have needed to put over people you say should be on the company’s Mount Rushmore and diminish what I’ve done thus far in SCW. You did just that, while also saying you were NOT like that, so which is it? Which side of you am I supposed to believe? Which side of you should I be believing when you’ve also said ‘I’m not someone looking to be worshipped’ and ‘I am the Blah of the Underground and a Blah of Chaos’.
Do YOU even know which side of you is the real one anymore? That isn’t craziness, Kim, it’s delusion. It’s that outer shell you created to hide the chewy center inside but guess what? I am going to shove Barbie through that chewy center of yours and literally find out if you have the GUTS AND A HEART! See, I don’t have to talk up my accomplishments. I know full-well what I can do to another human being. And you don’t.
As for having to kill you to take the title off of you? That’d be too easy. I’m the crazy you wish you could be. I’m the sadist that makes people like you pale in comparison. Every limitation I’ve come up against, I took as a challenge. If I succeeded, I’d do something far worse the next time. If I failed, well fuck I still succeeded because I did it anyways. I don’t feel fear. I don’t feel pain. What I feel is drive and a gutteral glee similar to the greatest orgasm one could feel.
And THAT is what makes me… a little Syko.
We find our half-sized giant in a run-down building with a wrestling ring in the middle of the floor. An older Italian man who, despite his age, still has the physique of a man half his age comes out of a back room to greet her.
“If it ain’t Lil Sprout. What brings you up here?”
“Hey, Tony, haven’t seen you around the House for awhile.”
“Business keeps me busy. You know how it is.”
“Yep. Think I can have my Zombie back soon?”
“You know she’s a lot like you. She’s a shark, gotta keep movin’. As for havin’ her back, this case is provin’ harder than we thought. We knew the ring went deep, didn’t realize how deep.”
Tony motions to a bench and the two sit down. Eavan is becoming concerned about what she’s just been told. Tony is Zombie’s step-father and former trainer. He is also the owner of a bail bondsman practice that has helped Eavan and the Devil’s Doves out on a few cases, including one that has taken some months of work already. In 2022, the Doves were tipped off to a human trafficking ring and were able to extract the children, mainly girls, from said ring. The investigation then began to track down the people involved so that they could shut the ring down completely to avoid it happening again.
“How many we talkin’? I can send you a few more to help out if you need it?”
“Will definitely take you up on that. We’ve sent a few upstate the… *Tony lifts his hands to do finger quotes* right way and a few got done our way but we’ve hit some intel about a few higher-profile people being involved so that’s a little more delicate.”
Eavan straddles the bench so she can look at Tony straight-on, especially as her curiosity was piqued by these ‘higher-up’ people.
“How high?”
“Governor’s office high. No proof of actually handling the merch, but definite proof of cover-up. Couple of Dons bought power as they do.”
Eavan pounds the bench in immediate anger and frustration, realizing what she, and they, are up against.
“So we got to take down an entire Family.”
“Three, actually.”
“Oh, fuck.”
“Oh fuck indeed.”
Eavan rubs her temples, a calming mechanism she’s picked up over time. She lays back on the bench in exasperation and closes her eyes.
“You know this’ll get messy.”
“Not if we’re smart. See, doing shit on the up-and-up gives us some additional benefits here. We just gotta make sure we get the right folks on our side, folks that won’t get took.”
Still laying back on the bench, Eavan is coming to the realization this is a case that is going to take probably every physical resource she has, and considerable financial resources as well.
“How wide a net do we need?”
“We’re talking cross-border. We’s gonna need to go fed level and yeah, resources are thinning quick.”
“Get with Topino. Anything you need is yours. We can’t fail in this.”
“I know, Sprout. If anything, at least from what we know, there hasn’t been any new merchandise bought. Could they have gotten smarter? It’s possible. Another upside, we’re working on turning a second-in-command who was supposedly unaware of what they were buying and selling. He’s got kids of his own so he gets it. If we can turn him, we’ve got a bigger chance of shutting it all down with little collateral but he’s asking a lot.”
Merchandise was Tony’s code word for ‘children’ to keep his emotions detached from his work. A lesson he’s tried to teach Eavan constantly and has yet to work yet he continues to do so subtly. Eavan sits up, as her anger and rage come over her.
“Give him what he wants, with the caveat that if he fucks us, I fuck him in return. In front of his children.”
“Shit.”
“T…”
The look Eavan shoots Tony is enough to make him move back subconsciously.
“Yeah, I know. I’ve seen that side of you. I’ll make sure the message’s sent. Now why are you REALLY here? You look like you’re ready to fight.”
Eavan cocks an eyebrow at Tony, like he has just stated the obvious considering the mindset he has put her in. Her conversational tone shifts abruptly as the anger and rage flows through her.
“Got a match.”
“You don’t need training.”
“You’re right, I need weapons. I need to remember how they feel.”
“You want me to hit you with weapons?”
“Problem?”
Tony watched her go from Olive the woman to Eavan the Dove to Sykobitty the Dove and wrestler and bona fide head case. All in the length of this conversation. Tony even smiled in pride that Eavan had showed restraint up until this point.
“Why me?”
“Do I need to remind you that I recall your history?”
Tony’s lip curled as Sykobitty looked up at him with a smug look on her face.
“You like to bring that up, don’t you?”
“I know it works. Now, what do you have?”
Tony backed off and started walking around the warehouse, noticing the weapons he had at their disposal.
“Standard array. Chairs, tables, canes, chains, thumbtacks, staple guns. Might be able to improvise a few things if we need to. Who’s the opponent?”
“Name’s Kimberly Williams, and from what I’ve seen, bitch is probably about as crazy as I am.”
Tony, without even looking at her entering the ring, continues looking around the warehouse, looking for other things that can be used.
“Sprout, ain’t nobody crazier than you. You being here asking me this favor is proof of that. I’ve got to ask, though. Think it wise to go through all of this right before a match?”
As Tony walks to the ring, Eavan is running the ropes and doing rolls in the ring as a warm-up. Eavan stops as Tony approaches.
“I look at it like this. I survive you, I get patched up, show up for the match, and what? I pop some stitches and I bleed all over the place? I’m going to bleed anyways. I’m going to get beat up anyways. I’m always fighting from underneath so this ain’t anything new. It’s just…”
Eavan starts to get antsy, even going so far as to start scratching her own arms and shivering. Tony grabs her by the shoulders in hopes of calming her down.
“You’re an addict, Sprout. Pain, drugs, booze, sex, it’s all the same shit. You’re chasing a dragon.”
Eavan quickly grabs Tony’s head, leaps up, and drops down on the mat with her knees tucked up, drilling them into Tony’s face, deliberately breaking his nose. As Tony rolls out of the ring, Eavan sits on the ropes and smiles a mischievous grin.
“Nah. This time I’m out to slay one. Let’s fight.”
For the next solid hour, Eavan taunted Tony at every opportunity. Forcing his hand to grab whatever weapon he could get his hands on, Eavan would goad him into hitting her. Any hesitation on his part and Eavan would strike his already broken nose, angering the old vet. Finally, Tony had enough and proceeded to lift welts and break skin all over Eavan, causing her to groan from the initial contact to outright laughing as she staggered around the ring. After the beatings were over, Tony lifted Eavan to her feet as she lay on the mat, smiling.
“Fuck I missed that.”
“You should get checked.”
“Psh, I’ll take a salted ice bath when I get home. I’ll be fine.”
“You’re crazy, you know that?”
“Aww, a beating AND a compliment.”
“Think you got what you needed?”
“Oh yeah. Williams can’t do shit I haven’t endured before. Her title is as good as mine.”
“Title? You didn’t mention it was a title match.I wouldn’t have gone so easy on ya.”
“Why do you think I kept smacking you in the face? Had to wake up the old wolf so he’d hit harder. You’re getting soft in your old age.”
Tony adjusts his crooked nose and chuckles.
“Lucky you’re one of my favorite folks, Sprout. I’d have killed people for less.”
Eavan chuckles and hugs him.
“I know. And thank you.”
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kimberly, Kimberly, Kimberly. I don’t mean to insult you, or your legacy, by diminishing anything you’ve done in your career, but I’ve noticed a pattern as I looked you up. Both professionally and personally, I might add. Oh, honey, if you knew the contacts and information I can pull on practically anybody I need to, I could have been an ally. I can’t say I would have made you a better person; you seem to enjoy hanging just under the radar. Which made me question why, and my theory is that you’ve never been made to feel good enough. There’s always been someone, somewhere, holding you down. Repeated actions become the norm, and I think years of being told you’re weak, you’re worthless, you’re not enough… you began to believe it. You believed, and then you began to hate yourself for believing it so you created a front. You created this badass person so nobody can see who the real you is.
But I see you. I see you because I see me. You and I are not so different, which is why the very first time we crossed paths, there was that instant spark of respect. People like us attract people like us, whether we know it consciously or not. We’re the broken toys in the cosmic toybox. And not only do people like us know people like us, but sometimes people in high places see us… and see money. They know putting two broken toys in the same playground draws attention. The fans know you and they’re starting to know me. And everyone, even you included, knew the time would come when we’d meet on opposite sides.
I mentioned you staying under the radar, and maybe my theory is right, so I’ll share another. What if this rage you have boiling under your skin is because somewhere along the way in your career, the proverbial ‘they’... were actually right? What if they saw you and knew you’d grow up with certain limitations but those limitations were those you had to learn about yourself? How do I know or, giving you the benefit of the doubt, why do I THINK you have these limitations? I look at your accomplishments her in SCW. Trios Tournament Winner. World Tag Team Champion. Television Champion. United States Champion. And now, currently, the Underground Champion. You’ve been all over this company for years and yet the one accolade I DO not see… is a World Championship. So what’s the story? Are you going to lie to me and say it isn’t an opportunity you’ve pursued yet? Or are you going to admit to me, and yourself, that maybe you’re just not as good as you think you are?
Is the realization that perhaps you ARE weak and useless the reason you don’t consider yourself a mother? Oooooh, did I go there? I told you I looked you up. Juvenile and medical records aren’t as sealed as people think they are, especially when one has the know-how to bypass certain things.
Yes I’m aware of how badly I cut you with that, and I make no apologies. What I WILL say, however, is that I’m far from innocent. In fact, I’ll even give you knowledge for knowledge. I gave up my daughter to the foster system when I gave birth to her at sixteen. Fifteen years later, I learned she had been sold into shit that I’ll leave to your imagination and my crew got her and others out of there. I was thrust back into motherhood at thirty-one. Me, a former junkie and alcoholic who’s tried to take myself off of this rock a few dozen times. The fuck did I know about motherhood, but I had to become one. For her. And then for a couple of more almost a year later. I made that choice so that THEY could potentially have a better life than I had. It’s a sacrifice I’d make again in a heartbeat. What I’m getting at is that once you have a kid, life isn’t about you anymore. It’s about them. Connect with your kid, you both deserve it and need it.
Now, I know I said some things here today that’s going to make you want to kick my ass. In your mind, you’re already thinking “how dare she…”. Guess what, it’s what I do. It’s how I motivate my opponents. See, I ain’t no cheerleader. I don’t blow smoke up peoples’ asses and build up the good in them. I find the thing that scares them most. I find the thing that makes them feel the most human. The most raw. I find that mental scab and I pick at it until it bleeds again. Until you have to relive it and face it. I want you mad because I want you focused. This coming Breakdown, I don’t give two shits about any level of mutual respect. You are merely the person holding something I want.
The Underground Championship. A title I guarantee you hold onto tightly because it’s the only thing that makes you FEEL something.
You asked me what makes me different, what makes me believe that I can dethrone the…
…the…
CUNT of the Underground. I refuse to use that word, and you know the one I mean. What makes me different is the fact there IS no difference and that should scare you. These hall of famers you mentioned to give yourself that extra bit of clout - I’ll get to THAT in a minute - all had one thing in common. They WERE different. And in those differences, you learned how to beat them. Yes, you’ve had to fall a few times before you crawled your way back, but you did. You learned what made THEM different and learned how to beat them. But what happens when you have to face yourself?
DO you ever look in a mirror, Kimberly? With everything you’ve gone through in your life, with everything that’s even been said to you, and about you. The things you unconsciously grew to believe. What do you see in that reflection? What do you hope to hide and keep hidden? I already know, I dropped a few crumbs already. So what happens when that reflection in the mirror, that real you that you try to hide… is the one standing across from you come Breakdown?
Appropriate name for the show, will it not? Thing is, Kimberly, I’ve already beat you. I’m in your head. If I wasn’t, you wouldn’t have needed to put over people you say should be on the company’s Mount Rushmore and diminish what I’ve done thus far in SCW. You did just that, while also saying you were NOT like that, so which is it? Which side of you am I supposed to believe? Which side of you should I be believing when you’ve also said ‘I’m not someone looking to be worshipped’ and ‘I am the Blah of the Underground and a Blah of Chaos’.
Do YOU even know which side of you is the real one anymore? That isn’t craziness, Kim, it’s delusion. It’s that outer shell you created to hide the chewy center inside but guess what? I am going to shove Barbie through that chewy center of yours and literally find out if you have the GUTS AND A HEART! See, I don’t have to talk up my accomplishments. I know full-well what I can do to another human being. And you don’t.
As for having to kill you to take the title off of you? That’d be too easy. I’m the crazy you wish you could be. I’m the sadist that makes people like you pale in comparison. Every limitation I’ve come up against, I took as a challenge. If I succeeded, I’d do something far worse the next time. If I failed, well fuck I still succeeded because I did it anyways. I don’t feel fear. I don’t feel pain. What I feel is drive and a gutteral glee similar to the greatest orgasm one could feel.
And THAT is what makes me… a little Syko.
![[Image: 8VZ4n4D.png]](https://i.imgur.com/8VZ4n4D.png)