An open window blowing the drapes across the wooden living room floor with a cool breeze tosses a red curl from the pale face in the moonlight. Laying draped only in a black silk bed sheet, she lies smoking a cigarette in the beam coming through the balcony door. A storm thundering powerful waves of lightning and crashing booms from hell linger into he background, a few miles off into the west, where the sun had set purples and greens through the rising clouds just before letting one last blood red flash illuminate the world in front of her very eye, before falling into the abyss. For being in the middle of Los Angeles, it was almost completely silent. Only a car passing by the upscale area with a loud and crazy radio blaring blazing hot words through the humid cool of the upcoming storm. A scorpion makes it dance up her leg as she drags in a thick smoke of nicotine. It crawls across her exposed stomach, the tiny alien legs finding their way up a warm, smooth and toned midsection, sculpted and firm breasts and to a fresh, blood-beating pulse from the neck. The tail brushes her chin, sending a wave of Goosebumps through her body, and down to her toes.

A scorpion, representing pain and ancient mystery. So close is she to danger, that she herself can feel the blood rushing from her heart and brain straight between her thighs. The smoke curls across her lips, the green in her eyes glistening as the scorpion's legs find the edge of her chin. So close for a kiss, a kiss of death. She begins to move slightly, walking along the floor like a scorpion backwards, facing the mystical creature head-on. The legs move forward, the tail twitches slightly. She smiles at the scorpion, as it lays to the side in submission. She reaches out, catching the scorpion in her palm. It was a dance, the erotic ritual that the scorpion has done since the beginning of it's time. The two mates lock together and move across a plane in a trance. Oblivious to everything in all the rage and doom they dance for hours and even days. Weeks without food or water, they can continue in their merciless path without a skip in pace. Beautiful, though the outer shell strikes fear and prejudice in the minds of mortals. But she found the beauty. She always searched for the beauty. It is what has kept her alive since.....

The battle.. the battle wit herself that nearly killed her. But she's Kitten. She's Lillith. She died the night her family was murdered. She died the night The Criminal threw her off the guard rail to her unborn baby's demise. She died the night Gibson walked into her hospital room and poisoned her IV.... she died again in beautiful Sorrento, Australia. Five lives left, and these she won't lose so easily. Her biggest demon now dormant within her. She knows that it would only be a matter of time before it once again shows it's rearing, ugly head.

Sorrento residents became eerily confused over the missing fire-haired woman that walked the beach that night. Superstitious elder locals had dubbed her 'Lady Phoenix'. The headlines "Lady Phoenix Plagues Paradise".... it was quite the amusement. But lost in the rampage of media and overwhelming exhaustion from her own tremulous commodity of being herself, she still had no idea what she, deep down wanted.

She knew what she thought she wanted. She thought she had wanted the fairytale happiness that she had read in her books when she was locked in her room. The man who takes all the pain away... the "Warrior"... My Warrior. To bask in many sensual nights proving the cosmos there isn't a more powerful magic than love. That she could prove to herself, and her destiny that she could bring beauty, from a fiery hell. It was possible for an angel to fall an become an Azarath warrior of god and good. A Dark Angel....

She had found that in this world, no matter how hard it is at any point in time that you must detach from your heart. She had barely lived her life because she was stuck being guided through the black by her heart. But her heart, still emanated no light. That the only light is from a flame, and flame is an angry light bulb picking out shadows in the night. And it held her back because this world has forgotten what heart was. Some thing it is being courteous. Some think it is chivalry or laying your coat on the sidewalk for someone to miss a puddle. That is kindness, and kindness is an action from the brain. Love comes from the heart. But what is love?

So many people are marrying at young ages to find that their spouse has enraptured them to the point that they can't keep a job, credit, friends, money - anything. Angst grows. It festers beneath the bubble of conscious thinking. And then subconsciously it blows apart, a cataclysmic state of events within the mind that makes a man hit a woman, a baby shaken to death..... divorce papers signed and filed.... alimony, child support, fight, fight, fight and for what? That isn't for love. Material things, is what it is for. Because some people have figured it out that money will take you farther in this world than chivalry. You can tell a prostitute left and right she is beautiful, but she will not give you a free sample. But if you stand across the street from a brothel house waving a Benjamin, they come running licking their chops.

So many children are growing up in this society with their parents doing just as they do with their materialistic needs. They don't realize that all this fighting and gambling and alcoholism has drained their college funds, and now they will flip burgers for half their life before they can finally attend a community college that puts them in a factory for the rest of their lives. And after 35 plus years of work, they are laid off due to budget cuts for a war across the seas that is almost inevitable, but should have been avoided. How even then in your worst times, you have to beg at the feet of congress and money guzzling upper class cigar smoking bandits to aid with Social Security. And yet each check is divided, funding the government in small aid business deals that eventually collapse, no one understands, and only feeds the monsters that run this country with green pieces of paper.

The government, religious establishments, breaking their own rules with their molestations and theft. How can you possibly find religion in a old gentleman with a soft spot for little boys? A soft spot that gets hardened when he touches them? Or a government that find pleasure in watching the fiasco of hate spill onto the streets where murderous cannibals cause the media to swarm into a whirlwind of pressure. And then we glue our faces to the television hoping for the best but expecting the worst, as the bodies of young children get pulled out of burning buildings full of bullets and the people responsible get off scott-free. Who are those people? Us. Because we drink the beer and pay money at the brothel houses and put the quarters into the slot machines, and those dollars go straight to the government. The government uses that money to fight the wars that lose so many precious lives of the loved ones who too are lost in the confusion of chaos. And then the government reimburses the country with tax cuts that cause other prices to sky rocket. So really we are left with the same money that we used to be, in the same economy that is falling to pieces before the eyes of the hard working people who give blood to the hospitals and food to the needy.

So WHAT IS LOVE? Where is it? Hell, Kitten grew up in the 'Heartland". Where was the heart when her father came in? Where was the heart when she witnessed her mother's face beaten into the linoleum floor? The only thing separating this mass macabre of hell and devastation is fields of corn, endless seas or rushing, screaming interstates. So what do they do?: Make boats, fly planes and race off in their fast cars the overcompensate for their lack of hope, love and sexuality.

And all this time she has laid and thought over and over again and still she has lost herself. She became very different when she took over the XWF, she became a very different person when the Universal Title was taken from her. It seems as though at the end of the tunnel, isn't a bright white light of judgment and warmth.... but rather a bloody battlefield that somehow warps every once in a while into the now and present, and then it begins to fornicate.

For such a hopeful little girl growing up in the heartland, doesn't a future make things inevitably suicidal? And to think that this innocent life that is being born right now, didn't even choose to live like this. That once they are born everything seems to fall together in a cast system, where you either have money or you don't. And then wherever the most predominant religion lies when you arrive, they push it into your head that you must not turn away from slaving away under the watchful eye of the God, or fear the terrible wrath of an underworld so flaming hot to leave you worthless and bend to the hate. But how is that so different now?

It's the dance. It is the ancient ones who remember where the heart lies. Like a scorpion. Like ... me.

There is beauty in everything you see and touch. The scorpion in the palm may frighten thy mother, but deep in your bones you know that the scorpion looks to you, a giant magnificent you just like you look at them with wonder and a beating heart full of curiosity. And in their core, all they wish for is this worry and torment to end so they can return to the dance. It is always the dance. And they remain. Centuries go by, and the scorpions still remain.

So much has crossed the mind of the infamous Kitten from the XWF. And so much has happened in the time that her reign had fallen from it's tattered and overwhelming throne. And in the crooked Hades that extrapolated from what seemed like such a good thing, Kitten was reborn.

Though her thoughts had became an organized closet, and a tornadic windstorm whirled by, spreading the clothes all over the world. And now, she had to find her blue socks. It was all so confusing when there were many, but when it was her.. she was at peace. Finally, she could sit in her own mind and not worry about the crazy big bad that took over every last dream and disintegrated it into nothing.

The trip to the XWF didn't take too long, she wanted to look into her old locker room to rid herself of some of the things that made her mind crazy. She wanted to find the things that kept her at peace. She felt like Rayden from Mortal Kombat. She had to find the peace. The inner self to shake hell's demons until the brains puddled from the nose. She smiled as she looked around her locker room to find it nearly wiped clean, except for a few boxes laying in the room marked "Kitten". It was the last of her old collection from her past. Not the bad part, but the better part. When she was champion again and again in so many places. People had looked up to her, all the time she was lost within herself and caught up in the game of civilization. She took her radio from the top of the pile, and plugged it into the outlet in the wall. She tuned it perfectly to a local radio station blaring an entrancing song.... an entrancing song that began to move her hips slowly, and her fingers curl in her hair. She looked different than she had before, she was definitely healthier looking. Her hair was flowing and healthy since she had not used anything besides nature's wonders to cleanse herself for quite a while. Vibrant bronze skin covered her rippling muscles, no longer burden to the many nights of endless ice cream and reality tv shows.

She smiled as she felt her long fiery locks drape against her slightly bare shoulders. Her tank top straps began to slip down her shoulders in the crevasses of her sculpted biceps. Her torn denim jeans fit snug and low on her waist, her combat boots from the goodwill store planting a firm stance of little beaded soles to the ground. She smiled as she turned softly, leaning against the wall as she closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, one that killed her with it's essence. Not because oxygen was so scare in the world full of molting factories and fuel-guzzling vehicles and allergens, but it killed her with it's kindness. It's lack of heart.

A cold feeling suddenly consumed her as her eyes popped open. Cold.. icy cold blue eyes looked on from the open door to the hallway. She was being watched. It made her heart freeze by the natural stare from a man she thought at first glance would surely annihilate her. Her hands fell from her red curls to her side as she looked to the man she had once called 'My Warrior'.....

Kill em' with kindness.

But what to say?

I'm sorry, I was lost in my dance. Care to join me in the insanity I thought that I lost?

No... How about...