4CW cameras cut to the backstage area where Cyrus Riddle is walking down the corridor. Still in his ring gear, he has a towel draped around the back of his neck, still collecting himself after the triple threat match earlier in the night. As he approaches his locker room door, he begins to slow down while looking ahead, curiously. Upon reaching the door, he raises an eyebrow as a gorgeous female walks into view.

RIDDLE: “Well… pleasant surprise to see you here. Rorie Steele, correct?”

STEELE: “That’s right. And you’re Cyrus Riddle… The one who came to talk to the low life’s in the Bayou and show them your moves. That correct too?”

Riddle laughed as he nodded his head.

RIDDLE: “That’s accurate, yes. However, I was also there to see you capture some gold. Very impressed.”

A small smirk showed itself at the side of her mouth.

STEELE: “The talent there is questionable at best. It was an easy match.”

She shrugged and ran her tongue along her upper lip. 

STEELE: “You say you came… just to see little ol’ me?”

A smirk appeared on the face of Riddle, as her actions and words caught his attention.

RIDDLE: “Yeah, well, I was invited, wanted to see what Erron was made of. Admittedly, my attention was caught by your talent. Can’t deny when someone stands alone and makes it look simple, yet extravagant. Of course, then there’s the social media interaction.”

Her smirk grew quickly. 

STEELE: “Ah yes… Twitter. I may or may not have said some very interesting things on there regarding a certain part of your… anatomy in my mouth.”

She smiled sweetly at him, biting her lip gently. In response, he took the towel and wiped his forehead with it, stalling somewhat.

RIDDLE: “Yeah… thank you for the kind compliment. It was rather brave of you, which is admirable. Honestly, I have a feeling that you might be a bit dangerous.”

STEELE: “Dangerous? Me?”

She feigned a shocked expression. She moved herself closer to him, running a pointed nail down his chest, gentle at first. She let her hand drop down as she got to the top of his bottoms. 

STEELE: “Sugar… you have no fucking idea.”

She raised her arm up quickly, dragging her sharp nails along the left side of his chest, opening the freshest scars on his skin. He looked at her in amazement, the blood beginning to drip from his chest with hardly a facial reaction to being cut open by her nails. Only a few seconds elapsed before he gave faint glimpses of a smile.

RIDDLE: “My point is more than proven, even exceeded. You’d have to be dangerous to do that, especially considering the level of fear you basically just laughed at that most people cower to.” 

She shrugged once again, bringing a finger up. She put it into her mouth, slowly licking the blood off. Her finger dragged down on her lip as she finished, dropping her hand to her side again. She licks her lips. 

STEELE: “I’ve never been one to cower. I do what I please, whenever I please. And someday… that may have to include that cock of yours.” 

She bit her lip seductively once again, watching him. After a few moments, she slipped past him, leaving him to ponder what just happened. As he watches her walk away, his face with a bewildered, yet impressed look, he shakes his head as if in disbelief before entering his locker room, wiping some blood from his chest with the towel.