Journal of the Whills Volume 4 CHAPTER 1

Sativa had her first challenge after claiming the California Wrestling Immortal Icon Championship. The first hopeful trying to earn their shot at her and her title. A fallen star. Someone trying to claw and scrape at any chance they have. Reaching for that one branch that would pull them out of the bottomless pit they have been in freefall in. But, with that saving branch within their grasp, their hand was slapped away. Sativa came out the victor once again.

This next show, she was up against a long time associate. The every “spooky” and lustful Dona Rotten. A match that had so much promise but has been yoked by silly rules...


Sativa walks along the edge of a lake. On the other side, just barely visible are a grouping of cabins. The tree limbs sway slightly in the light breeze. Ripples disturbed the mirror-like lake surface. Sativa pauses and looks out across the lake, to the cabins.

“Here we are. A setting fit to discuss my upcoming match. But like every good horror movie, there has to be a little portion about the past or semi-recent events. First off, the past. Kendrick Kross. The self-proclaimed bearer of light. The man that was going to use all that light and brightness to banish my darkness. To beat me and earn himself a shot at my title. A man who claimed to be so focused on me and prepared for me he couldn’t even get my title right.” She pauses and chuckles while shaking her head.

“Kendrick, for all that running of your mouth you said very little. Yes, this title was mine from the get-go. Yes, I beat a rookie for this title. That doesn’t take away from the status this title gained when I took it. I’ve made this title mean something just by holding it. You, a former Pride Champion was all up in arms about coming to take it from me. Why? It wasn’t on your radar until I took it. Once I finally got what was mine EVERYONE has taken notice. But I will say you were right about one thing, I am not as good as you…” She pauses as a smirk curls her lip.

“I’m better.”

Sativa brushes the hair from her face, pushing it behind her ear. “One last statement I have to make before I address the main topic at hand. Samantha Tolson. For someone who has to crow and cry about people not getting your name right, you sure do love to run on using the wrong name for me. See, you got REALLY close, really. But your first mistake, only my friends or those close to me can call me Mary. To your cunt ass, it's Marilyn. But that’s just a preference thing really. You really fucked up on my last name. It's Janes. J-A-N-E-S. With an S on the end. Not Jane, JANES. So, next time you want to keep flapping your gums about me, at least get my name right. Then again, you do have the habit of making your mind up about something totally wrong and never willing to change so…” She shrugs and starts walking again.

Sativa occasionally bends over picking up small flat rocks and occasionally skipping them across the lake’s surface. “Now, onto the task at hand, yeah? At the upcoming Walk of Fame I get to face off against Dona Rotten. Now, you see, this is a match that is fucking money. But what does the inept California Wrestling front office do? They stick us on the regular event in an Immortal Icon rules match. They coulda put us in some violent deathmatch style match on a big event and drawn tons of cash. But what do we get? A slap in the face and kiddie gloves slapped on us.”

“The first meeting of Sativa Nevaeh and Dona Rotten could have been the biggest draw California Wrestling has had in a long time. But no, they sit there and blow their load in their shorts like a virgin on prom night. Just another fucking reason why the management needs to get whipped into shape or fire the shit GMs they have and hire people who know what the fuck they are doing.”

“Now, Dona, where do I begin with you? Like, I get it, you shacked up with Eddie Poe and had to start bein all super spooky. Gotta keep the significant other happy, right? But, you see, you were actually cooler before. But sure, I see how you and Eddie both being spooky is a nice little niche. You get them neck beard slasher flick fans. The ones that just love to collect their memorabilia and watch the movies over and over and over again just to memorize every little detail to be able to say how shit the new remakes are and nothing can hold a candle to the originals.”

Sativa once again pauses and stares out at the surface of the lake. “I hope I don’t have to explain the subtleties of my choice of location for this little bit of work. But for those out there, like CW management and GMs, that don’t know their ass from the hole in the ground I’ll give a little hint. Think woman in a boat in the middle of the lake getting dragged under by a deformed boy.” She turns to look into the camera and gives a little nod, as if watching understanding finally dawn on someone’s face. “That’s it, there ya go. See, I thought this would be fitting seeing as how it fits with Dona’s whole schtick and the fact she did some cut-rate version of it a while back. But where I am avoiding the cheese and the camp that is where Dona would, and did, go. You see her and Eddie try and be spooky and creepy. He comes out tweeting pics and gifs on Twitter, trying to REALLY hard to be edgy and hip. There you are, giving him all the support his bloody little heart desires. Then, when you try and hype matches and shit, you go for the literal worst parts of the horror movies you spout off about loving and admiring. Instead of coming off like some groundbreaking violent and sociopathic intimidating couple, you come off like you two belong in the last movie of a dying franchise that has been milked for all it’s worth and should have ended a dozen films sooner.”

Sativa moves away from the lake’s edge and into the forest. “I honestly wish they match could be what it should have been. That great and glorious first meeting between two tough and mean practitioners of violence. But like the fanboys you two have a fans we don't get what we want. We get shit and told it’s a diamond. That we can have a great first meeting with both hands tied behind our backs and blindfolded. I would love to have a real match with you. But I will settle for kicking your ass in the match type I have excelled in. The match type that I shall make famous for California Wrestling. The match type everyone will want to learn the ins and outs of to try and take the new top title in Hollywood.”

Sativa pauses he movements. She looks around as if she had heard something. The forest is darker than the lakeside. The canopy keeping light out and giving it an eerie twilight appearance. “I know I’m supposed to be afraid of the whole spooky thing Dona. And honestly if I was ANYONE else it might actually work. But I’m not. I’m me. Darth Ganja. The Blood Countess. I do not fear anyone or anything. This isn’t the only company we work in together Dona. I know you know what I can do. What I’m about.”

“If not, you will learn on episode seven. You will see why me and this title are meant to be together. Why I make California Wrestling THE company to watch. Why I am currently ranked number one in the company while you’re number ten and the former, joke, of an Immortal Icon champion isn’t even ranked. You don’t see people lining up to challenge for the Hollywood Heritage Title, or the Republic Camaraderie champions, or really making a challenge for the Pride title. You see everyone coming at me. The superstar of California Wrestling.”

Sativa starts walking again, without a care in the world despite the eerie setting. “You know all the rules of the slasher movies. All the little ins and outs. This, right here, is the final act for you Dona. Where the heroine of the story kills the supernatural killer. I’ll make sure it’s a good one. You deserve at least that.”

Sativa gives a little wave before disappearing behind a tree and the scene fades.