Catalina Cortes Vs. Zephyr Quinn

“This is my most brilliant idea ever!” said Catalina.



Christopher Marlowe sat across from her, typing away on his laptop, a hot breeze blowing through the Starbucks patio Catalina had once again blocked off to the public using police tape. When Marlowe didn’t respond after several seconds, Catalina cleared her throat, loudly and repeatedly. Marlowe took the hint, peaking over the screen and then back to it. “Hmm?”



“Beating Trent Steel and Zephyr Quinn was no small accomplishment,” Catalina continued. “But now I have to beat Zephyr again. She bounced back from a death match with Mia and nearly took our tag belts. I can still barely feel my knee after that last Massacre we hit her with. Zephyr’s got that kind of superhuman resiliency that I just don’t have. So I’ll have to get some.”



Silence hung in the air for a moment. Marlowe let it hang, as he could never be sure when Catalina was done talking at him. Once enough time had passed, he finally replied, eyes focused on his screen all the while. “If it’s all the same,” he said. “I think I’m going to sit this one out. Deadlines and all that.”



“I’d never dream of risking your life in this quest, m'lady,” Catalina said. “For I will be hunting Carnage’s most dangerous prey.”



“Best of luck,” Marlowe said, over the sounds of clacking keys.



Pulling her phone from her purse, Catalina’s thumbs crafted a text. “But first, a trial run. I’ll test my skills on a more vulnerable target.”



The text was written, the recipient: one Adrienne Levi.



HEY GIRL LET’S GET COFFEE ≧◡≦!!!!!!








Catalina squeezed every bit of home she could into her Baltimore studio apartment. There was her Nintendo Switch, her Todoroki merch(multiple wall scrolls, a body pillow and one set of footie pajamas), and her 600-foot spool of nylon rope. The spool lie ominously next to her computer chair, daring any visitors to ask about it. Adrienne Levi and Catalina sat on the couch, a cushion between them, awkwardly sipping coffee and avoiding conversation. Catalina wondered if Adrienne had noticed the rope.



“Don’t worry about the rope,” Catalina said.



Levi had taken Catalina’s invitation to attempt to become more familiar, more friendly with other denizens of Carnage. So far it wasn’t that she didn’t like Cortes, it was just that there wasn’t much to say other than niceties. Now very aware of the rope, Adrienne’s expression went from ease to a growing concern. But maybe Catalina was moving or something.



“Okay.”



Looking at her phone for a moment, she fired a text off to Matt Knox: I should have listened.



“So do you like … stuff?” Adrienne said with the hopes of steering this meeting into something fun. First impressions were a lot, sure. But Adrienne was shy with meeting new people. Maybe Catalina was, too.



Catalina choked on a drink of coffee, her plotting interrupted by Adrienne’s voice. “Yeah,” she choked. “I mean a lot of stuff, really. There’s my Twitch channel, which has forty-three subscribers, which means I’m seven away from being an affiliate. Anime, film, video games. You write slash? I’m working on a Knox/Winter piece about how they’re mean to each other on Twitter to hide their true feelings, and when they finally stop hiding, oh boy does it get steamy. It’s also a commentary on toxic masculinity.”



Fidgeting slightly at this line of questioning, Adrienne answered softly. “I wasn’t sure what slash was until well, I guess you explained it.”



She took a small sip of her coffee before carefully setting the mug back down on the coaster. Adrienne liked most of those things. She would probably be considered a poser as she didn’t really know most of the names of anime girl shirts she had - sort of like the one she was wearing today. But then the thought of Alex Winter and Matt Knox sharing a chaste kiss entered her mind briefly and Adrienne did her best to send that one back down into the chasms.



“But that’s really cool. I’ll become number forty-four if that's alright with you.”



Catalina patted her shoulder. “That’d be so cool! Look at us, bonding over coffee and hypothetical relationships.” She turned her attention to the rope. “The rope isn’t for you, by the way. It’s for someone much bigger and much more dangerous.”



There was only one person who fit that bill. Every other person could be reasoned with or possibly backed down from their urges. Casting another glance at the pile of rope, Adrienne considered if Catalina was just trying to make another joke.



“You’re not serious, are you?” Adrienne said hesitantly not wanting to offend her host.



One hand went theatrically to Catalina’s chest in feigned indignation, a motion worthy of Christopher Marlowe. “Ade, girl, what the heck? You know how tough it is for a woman to get ahead in wrestling. Honestly, I thought you’d be more supportive. Of course I’m serious. Lab Rat King has superhuman monster blood, and I gotta get me some of that. She-Hulk got her powers through a blood transfusion. It’s the same principle. Can you imagine how unstoppable I’ll be?”



Everyone saw that blood. It was all over the mat and cage during the encounter with Mitch Heart. Adrienne had finally decided to watch the fight just for some perspective. However, she also saw Zane King after the show. Saw the congealed blackish blood smeared all over concrete walls as he just moved around in that small space. Saw the odd discolorations in various parts of his massive muscle bound body.



“I don’t mean to be mean but could the way his blood looked also be because he’s sick?” Adrienne probably meant this as a thought but a flare of concern made her voice it out loud. Continuing that, she spoke trying to maintain eye contact with Catalina. “And that it could make you sick?”



“Actually,” Catalina said, hopping up from her couch to inspect her checkerboard backpack. “I haven’t thought about that. I’m sure I can find somebody to analyze it. First things first, gotta get that blood. Wanna come with? I might need a distraction. We can make it a whole girls night.” She pulled an Umbreon hoodie on and grabbed a flashlight from her kitchen drawer, before giving Adrienne a spin. “This look okay for sneaking?”



Subconsciously, Adrienne touched her neck. While the conversation with Zane had lessened some of the fears she held for him, that one moment still stayed.



“Maybe. I’ve never done that kind of stuff before. I’m not sure you should either. Zane King isn’t an animal.”



Standing up, she straightened out the legs of her jeans. She eyed the door. Adrienne’s idea of a girl’s night out was sharing some wine coolers and maybe gossiping. No mean rumors, of course. Not dying at the hands of Lab Rat King.



“I don’t think I can stop you. Your heart really seems set on this. So hopefully … I’ll see you at the show.”



Catalina gave a thumb up as she headed out the door. “That’s what I’m talking about! Women supporting women! Don’t worry, I have no doubt this is gonna go swimmingly. Feel free to hang out. We can get a pizza and play Mario Kart when I get back.”



With Catalina gone, Adrienne took her up on her offer. Eventually, she stared at an unopened pack of Double Stuf Oreos on the kitchen counter. Despite no one being in the room, she whispered, “Maybe just one. Or two...”







In less than twenty-four hours the Carnage Arena would be packed(according to COVID-19 guidelines) with screaming fans. The Legion would flock to their Coliseum. But in the wee hours of the night, only one soul dared enter the darkened arena. Flashlight in hand, Catalina prowled the winding corridor. Her Umbreon hoodie and checkerboard backpack allowed her to blend into the background, chameleon-like, to anything with baseline human senses. Coming to the locker rooms, she dropped to one knee, unzipping her backpack in the ghostly silence. The flashlight stayed off. She only brought it along as a last resort and a security blanket. Giving away her position would be the last mistake she ever made.



Catalina often regretted talking to Zed Hotley, but there was some value in his attempt to punch-up her plan. Rats love cheese, he reminded her. And how many cartoon cats tried to lure unaware mice into their maws with a sign reading ‘FREE CHEESE.’ Swallowing LRK was not feasible, but bait was essential for setting a trap. She took out her secret weapon, a wedge of triple-crème brie. Curious, Catalina broke a piece off the end and tasted it.



“Whoa,” she said, louder than she intended, overtaken with gluttonous glee. “That’s really good.” She ate a second piece, twice the size of the first.



Unfortunately, there was someone here with senses that were slightly outside of human baseline.



While the Cat was enjoying the cream, the Rat’s shadow went unnoticed in the dim, circling the would-be rodent catcher. His breath was muffled by the muzzle he wore as he slowly approached her back, looming unseen in the dark except for the glare on bloodshot amber eyes.



    What the hell is she doing here.



He slowly began extending a calloused hand toward her back, dry blood caked under blunt fingernails.



    She can't be serious.



After a third piece, she stopped herself and went back to the equipment check. “Focus, Cat. We got our brie, we got our rope, we got our Etsy net-gun, we got our chloroform. And most importantly, our apology note. That way when LRK wakes up and reads it, he won’t be mad and go on some crazy revenge spree, slaughtering my friends and loved ones en route to eating my head or whatever. He’ll totally get why I needed his blood. We’ll laugh about this later.” She raised her net gun with unrealistic confidence, faking it until she made it.



    … Oh, shit. Is that what this is about?



The Lab Rat had frozen, a haze of anger building in his eyes. The tendons in the back of his hand tensed.



    Dude. Hang on. Don’t… don’t kill her. She hasn’t tried to hurt us yet. She’s just a dumb kid who doesn’t know how this--



The mutant’s hand closed on the back of Catalina’s hoodie, and with a vicegrip he lifted her clear off the floor, standing to his full height with a long, low growl.



“Is the little kitten going for a HUNT tonight?” he snarled, kicking the backpack underneath her feet over to the locker room bench. “Maybe looking for rrrrrrRRRRRATS?!”



    Wait wait wait wait wait wait no no no no--!!!



“EEP!” said Catalina, her net-gun dropping to the floor and going off pitifully. The resulting net flew a few feet and was barely large enough to cover a chihuahua. That would be the last time she trusted Etsy. Right now she had much bigger problems than unsatisfactory handmade e-commerce. She searched the bloodshot eyes for any sign of reprieve. “Can you smell if I’m lying?”



The Lab Rat held her up to his eye level, sniffing at the mention of smelling. He kept glancing off a bit as if listening to something else.



    Hold on now--give her a chance to explain. Come on, she clearly had no idea what she was doing. Cheese? A net gun? Does she think this is some kind of cartoon?



“Quiet, little man!”



    She’s not a threat, Big Guy! Put her down. Even if she wanted our blood, how the hell would she get it now? You caught her with her hands still setting the trap and she ate her own bait.



“... Rrrgh…”



Almost with regret, King placed Catalina’s feet on the ground, but he didn't let go of her hoodie, looking down the considerable length of his arm at her.



“The truth, the WHOLE TRUTH, nothing but the TRUTH, so help your spine,” he snarled, keeping a firm grip. “Weather your words carefully--you didn’t bring enough food to keep ME fed, unless you count yourself on the menu, little kitten.”



“I can explain,” Catalina started, her face flushing as she tried to fan herself off with one hand. “Just please don’t eat me, I can DoorDash you a pizza, this is all a huge misunderstanding, I thought maybe if I could get some of your monster blood it would make me unstoppable, but I guess I should’ve asked via text or email or even Twitter DM instead of trying to trap you like some animal and I’m really really sorry, it was a stupid thing to do and I feel terrible and would like to reiterate please don’t eat me, I have DashPass and everything.” Her words came quick and frantic, with little time for breath in between. She tried to catch it now, to keep herself from hyperventilating, her eyes pleading


As Catalina rambled for her life, the fury in the Lab Rat’s eyes gradually began to fade; by the time she was finished, his eyelids had drooped to half-mast in a sort of bored expression, still holding her in place as if he’d forgotten he was doing it.



    See? She’s harmless.



Having to concede to that, King grunted, letting go of her hoodie.



    Now can you please at least try to explain why her little plan is the worst mistake she could possibly make? You and I both know what happens when someone gets a transfusion from us. Life isn’t a comic book… it’s a goddamn horror movie.



He jerked his head toward the bench, indicating for her to sit down.



“You don’t want our poison, tiny kitten… why are you chasing the ichor? What cacophonous thoughts led to such a foolish foray?”



Taking a seat on the bench, she propped her head up on her hands, clearly sulking. “It’s just…” she began. “You’re big and scary and awesome, like you could probably punch someone’s head off and it would go flying into the crowd and land in someone’s lap and then they’d start screaming. Now I have to fight Zephyr again and she’s super tough. After she and Mia nearly killed each other, it still took everything we had to beat her and Trent. I don’t have that kind of superhuman resilience. But I saw your match with Mitch Heart and thought, hey, maybe I can use this guy’s monster blood to turn myself into a legit mutant. But I guess I should’ve just asked. Without your blood, I’m afraid that I’m nothing special. I’m just short, lightning quick, and extremely charismatic.”



She looked at him with puppy dog eyes.



    Oh, boy.



“You’re telling me.”



For once, Lab Rat seemed to be on his own wavelength. With a surprisingly paternal demeanor (excluding the way his shoulders curled forward like a gargoyle), he came down to one knee to put himself on her eye level, a certain degree of impatience buried within the knot of his brow.



    … I wish I didn’t remember what happened to the last guy they injected with our blood.



“You don’t wanna sing my tune,” he started, his voice a low, controlled growl. “Your whistle is still clean and sharp. The muck in my veins will only turn your blood to mud and ssssstrangle your beating heart like tonight’s chicken dinner.”



He jabbed an index finger into her sternum, a bit roughly, but with no intent to harm.



“If you’re willing to covet and collect a beast’s blood against his furious will, you already have the glorious guts of a monster. Anyone can embrace their rage. Learn to fight like you’re defying the reaper himself. You need not fear the cold claw of death to understand it will come for you, maybe sooner than you sought, and the little sanguinous siren is a portent of the scythe.”



His eyes narrowed. “Don’t fight for glory. Battle for your breath. Find your rage against death and wield it in your teeth.”



“Dude,” Catalina said, her demeanor shifting. She took a breath, as her shoulders unslumped and a look of defiance danced in her eyes. “You’re totally right. I’m a scion of Santa Diablo. My veins are full of monster blood. I’m good enough to beat Zephyr again. I’m good enough to beat anybody!” She stood triumphantly on the bench, her fists clenched, ready for a fight that was still hours away. Then her shoulders slumped again. “Present company excluded, maybe. I feel terrible about this whole plot to steal your blood thing. And calling you a monster. And using cheese as bait was really dehumanizing, because I’m clearly the one who likes cheese more. I’m really sorry. But speaking of cheese, can I make it up to you with a pizza? Or pizzas? Thor’s paying.”



    A scion of Santa… what?



King shook his head and sighed through his muzzle, rolling his eyes as he patted Catalina on the crown of her head with a giant hand.



“Little kitten is strange and tickles our funny bones. This placid plan can be forgiven... Don’t do it again or I’ll slide your spine out through your throat,” he warned, his voice a low rumble of a growl.



After a pause, he added, “Meat Lover’s, extra sssssssauce.”



And so Catalina DoorDashed.






“Here we are, Zephyr. Past the introductions and first impressions, we have now moved on to the getting-to-know-each-other part of the relationship. Do I snore? Do you scrape your fork against your teeth while you eat? Will our growing awareness of each other’s flaws destroy the magic we have together? Eh... probably.”



“Don’t get me wrong, WAR was a wonderful time. We explored every inch of the Carnage Arena, although don’t think we didn’t notice that you were gone an awfully long time on your little detour. And you didn't say a thing my outfit. But maybe at Chaos 97 things will be different.”



“I don’t begrudge you for trying to drive a wedge between me and my teammate. That’s tag team wrestling 101. But I would like to think mine and Kit’s dynamic involves less bullying and more aggressively encouraging. Is it healthy? I’m not the best judge of healthy relationships. But it works well enough for us to still have the belts. It took luck, split second timing and a treasure chest for us to win. We shared the spotlight. I just picked the wardrobe. On any other night, with any other partner, I’m not so confident I could put you and Trent away. I mean, I’ve already botched two chances to pin Trent Steel.”



“Marlowe and I, we never made a formal arrangement to team up. Once upon a time, I considered ditching him so I could go after the Baltimore City Championship. But that was a long time ago, and when I say a long time, I mean it was April. Has my entire personality changed since then? Am I a terrible person trying to pretend I’m decent? Or was I always a decent person trying to pretend I was terrible? Girl, I wish I knew but the the answer is shrug emoji.”


The crude Catalinas and Marlowes gave way to an even cruder shrugging Catalina.


“Not all partnerships are equal, but I got plenty out of the Kit-Kat Connection. I hopped on the Kit Marlowe bandwagon when we both needed help. He needed someone to help him beat the Monstimals. I needed somebody to save me from my worst impulses. But those impulses are still there, because at the end of the day I’m still...”



The background flashed “CATALINA CORTES!!!”
in eye-popped red.


“My moral compass doesn’t always point in the right direction. I’m the lucha princess, Flamingo Academy graduate and wannabe hero to millions. You might recognize me as an obnoxious bitch from Twitch. I’m also rudo royalty, the spawn of Santo Diablo, four generations strong in wrestling villainy. It’s the kind of legacy so crushing no one in their right mind would want to live up to it. I can say I’m not trying to. I can tell you that isn’t me. But when you fight someone who can take an inhuman amount of punishment, more than you think you’re capable of even dishing out, it’s reassuring to know you have a little monster blood flowing in your veins.”


“Believe me, Zeeqs, I would love to rest on the fact that the Kit-Kat Connection made a successful defense against Trent Steel and Zephyr Quinn. But WAR is done and the world is still spinning. It’d be pretty sweet to take a night off and say I got nothing left to prove to you. But if you think I’m the type of person who would do that, then you don’t get me. I always have something to prove. I’m the smallest wrestler in Carnage, one-half of the longest reigning Tag Team Champions in two years, and somehow still undefeated despite the skyrocketing level of talent here. Maybe you think I haven’t been tested. Fair enough. Test me.”


A counter rolled in the background, stopping on 7-0.

“My streak’s gotta end sooner or later. You can prove I’m all hype. You can prove I’m lucky. I’m not the best wrestler in Carnage, but if I want people to think I am then I have to maintain this illusion by any means necessary. I have to sink to the depths of depravity encoded into my DNA. Friendship and love can’t save me. Only my basest instincts can. If I want to succeed, I can only do that as the very worst version of myself.”



A drawing of Catalina popped up, complete with a pitchfork, devil horns and a fiery aura. A sad Marlowe looked on.

Save me, Zephyr. Because the devil-kitten deep inside of me is sharpening her claws, ready to slash heads off and send them screaming into the crowd like grotesque homeruns. I don’t know what she’s capable of. I only know that I can’t control her for much longer. I only ever dreamed I was a girl that the Legion cheered for. But the dream is over and the devil is awake. Stop her, Zephyr. Stop her for me.”"


“Unless you think I’m just a silly ass bitch in a Link costume. Shrug emoji. Good talk, though. I think this has done wonders for our relationship. I won’t decapitate you if you don’t decapitate me. Pinky swear. See ya at Chaos, girl!”


Catalina extended a pinky to the camera, before laughing to herself. As the promo faded, the laughter turned from delighted to demonic.