"Malditos idiotas, todos ellos..." Angel cursed aloud as she angrily stumbled around the locker rooms. No direction to go... in every sense of the word. Angel was simply mad at the world. No logic, no justification... did there have to be? Angel was Angel. She was a bitch. She lived to uproot harmony, to shatter the windows that represented societary balance. She didn't choose this path. It wasn't HER fault. It was-
"Estás en el fondo de la botella. Y demasiado temprano también." a voice echoed from the doorway, disrupting her personal bubble of drunken rage and aimless insecurity.
Angel swung around, recognizing the voice immediately, as well as that one eye. "Si vas a repetir las mismas tonterías que esos otros idiotas, enfadate, Ramón!"
Instead of retreating from her defensive barrier of harsh words, Ramon advanced further. A feat few others could accomplish, he managed to get within a distance of Angel that usually caused broken limbs.
"When's it gonna end, Miss Ánjel?" Ramon berated her softly. "For two days, I've watched you walk around here like some human wrecking ball, shiftless, directionless... just swinging as you go, demolishing whatever crosses you. It's not a life for a young girl to live."
Angel folded her arms, flashing him a... bitter look. "What life? As soon as you find something worth giving a shit about, send me a memo!"
Ramon scratched his head nervously, looking away, "You know who you're fighting?"
Angel shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I don't give a f*** who it is. I'm gonna rip their eyeballs out and f*** their empty sockets with their own little pencil d-
"It's me."
OPENING ROUND FIGHT #2: BLUE MARY VS CLARK STILL
"Scuse me, baby. I gotta go kick some ass real quick."
Mary's voice was ever confident as she kissed Terry gently on the lips, before exiting the sidelines and proceeding to the red corner of the combat zone. She was apparently so comfortable and assured in her skills, she never went to the locker rooms to prepare.
"Try not to shake him up too bad!" Terry called out with a grin. "Poor guy nearly lost his innards last year!"
Mary turned one more time to her lover, to press her fingers against her lips and extend it outwards, delivering the romantic message to where he sat several yards away. Mary was in good spirits; like last year, it was always fun to get out in the ring and show her stuff, without any heavy stakes on the line. Best to enjoy it while it lasted... she was skeptical the fun would last forever this week.
Meanwhile, Ralf and Clark were having a little "bro moment." They were both hunched over, Ralf's hands on his face, Clark's on his... and they were aggressively shaking each other.
"CLARKY-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!" Ralf chanted his name while continuing to violently wriggle his jowls.
"AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Clark howled like a ravenous predator of the night in Ralf's face. After the initial... jiggling... montage, they started slapping each other repeatedly. This ordeal simply proved that big, muscular jocks with testosterone brains had the strangest bonding rituals, especially when it came to psyching up for some great physical feat.
"You da man, Clark. You da man," Ralf muttered these uplifting words to his partner, as they pressed their foreheads together. "You da man. You da man. You da man. YOU DA MAN! YOU DA MAN! YOU DA MAN! You're my brother. I love you. Now get your big ass out there and drag her into deep waters. Make her struggle. Make her panic. She's nothing to you man, she's nothing... we've been there, man. We've seen it all."
"We've seen it all." Clark echoed.
With a simultaneous final slap of opposite faces, the two comrades broke off, and Clark headed to the combat zone. For Clark Still, this was a little more personal than usual... he HAD to redeem himself for last year. Suffering the quickest defeat, as the Rugal clone nearly spilled his guts all over the pavement... that wouldn't be his legacy. He was a soldier. He didn't go down. NEVER.
The two finally met in the ring, standing on their respective sides. Mary kicked off her usual trademark: shedding her green jacket, and allowing her adorable dog Anton to snatch it in his mouth and scamper away. She put her hands above her head and stretched a few times, giving the lucky Clark a nice view of her generous bosom.
Meanwhile, Clark did a bit of preparation too. The Ikari Warrior unzipped his blue combat vest, shedding it free, leaving him in a form-fitting black t-shirt. Lastly, he reached around his neck, gently removed his dog tag, and placed it on the ground near his vest, safely out of the action.
The two faced each other once again. Mary was the first to open.
"I heard you like to roll, big guy." she winked.
Clark flashed a sly smile, adjusting his sunglasses. "I've been around. Probably not nearly as much as you in that department. What you packing?"
Mary put her arms around the back of her head, smiling as she boasted. "Ohhh not much. Second degree black belt, Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. Master of Sport, Combat Sambo. That's about it. You got any belts to hang in your barracks?"
Clark chuckled. "Division I All-American collegiate wrestler."
"Undefeated?"
"Nah. National champion at one point, though."
"Mmmm... not bad, not bad."
"And, to answer your other question... I got my BJJ purple belt a few weeks ago."
Mary snickered. "Hehe. Not quite there yet, sport. So, you ready to get started?"
Clark got into stance. "Ready when you are."
Mary responded in turn. "One more thing, Clarky Boy... try not to enjoy yourself too much, tangled up with me."
A smug grin. "Heh, that's funny... I was gonna tell you the same thing."
FIGHT!
They slowly stalked towards each other, hands up... but both carried a reserved aura about them, neither certain about making the first move.
Mary started striking for the time being, pumping out a soft jab that accomplished little, not even reaching her target. They circled each other a few times, and Mary let out another one, following up with a more powerful straight left behind it. They missed, but it backed Clark up a few inches, into her kicking range, which she obliged by lunging in with a stomping side kick to his midsection. The kick landed... but failed to do anything. If Clark was the slightest bit jarred by it, he never showed it.
Clark's hands were high, but he showed no signs of attempting a punch. Between the two of them, Clark was the more likely one with knockout power; he was just aware that he was an extremely sloppy striker, compared to a more disciplined one like Mary, who used her jabs and kicks to set up her grappling. Thus, throwing a wild haymaker was not included in his playbook.
FINALLY... Mary had enough. She closed distance, let out a small little teep kick to get Clark guessing, and she DIVED for a single-leg.
...The payoff was poor. Clark's defense was already prepared, as he seized her neck in a guillotine headlock and forced her downwards, to her knees. She tried desperately to cling to his leg, but her fingers slowly slipped off, until she was simply bent to Clark's will. His full weight bore against her, keeping her pinned on her knees, while his beefy arms were doing well to squeeze against her neck, not enough to cut off blood supply, but enough to HURT and make her extremely uncomfortable.
Mary wriggled hard against the suffocating headlock, using both hands on one offending limb to try and pry the arms loose. That, with a combination of pulling her head backwards with all her might, led to a small glimmer of hope she could slip out of the painful trap like she were greased.
"Cmon Mary, get out of it! GET OUT OF IT!" Terry encouraged on the sidelines. With good reason, he was significantly worried.
At last, a moment of hope; Mary's head emerged from Clark's arms! She didn't dare pursue the single-leg again, but he was also too close to break away from. Options limited, Mary did the only thing she could do in this situation, one that put her deeper into the frying pan... she pulled guard.
Two hands found their way behind Clark's head, two butterfly hooks locked around his waist, and Mary flopped to her back, taking Clark along with her. The end result was her laid out, Clark on top of her, in her arms... but the man was tied up for the time being, thanks to her efforts to keep him pinned against her.
It wasn't the best position for little Mary, as Clark was a huge man on top of her, but the composed grappler was skilled enough to impose her game even from the bottom. She unwrapped her legs from his waist and slowly tried to slide her legs towards her... getting freedom of her feet was paramount. It took a bit of flexibility on her part, but slowly... surely... she got her feet right where she wanted them: a spot where she could invade Clark's personal space with them.
With one strong push against the Ikari Warrior, Mary slipped her feet around and locked a calf around the back of his neck, while also presenting her shin to his throat. The end result... a leg triangle choke from the bottom.
Clark was already feeling it. "Gghhh... ghaaah..." his grunts were followed by a desperate effort to pry her legs loose, lest they squeeze the oxygen from his brain like squirtable cheese.
"Alright! GO FOR THE KILL!" Terry cheered.
Mary smiled: from this position, she could control even a much larger man. With a turn of her hips, she tossed Clark off and had him on his side, finally freeing herself from the massive weight pressed against her.
The two laid side by side for a half minute, Mary's choke still locked in, tearing away at the consciousness of the Ikari Warrior who was trying to pry her legs free. As confident as she was, Mary was feeling the strain of trying to keep it locked, as Clark was a strong, STRONG guy.
"Cmon you bastard... go to sleep...!" Mary whispered loudly.
...It just wasn't happening. Slowly, she could feel her legs slipping away, being pried loose by Clark's strong hands like the jaws of life. It was enough to nearly crush her spirit.
"GRAH!" Clark let loose a bellow, and freedom was restored.
Mary cursed; she did the only thing she could try to do, and get to her feet. But as soon as she was on her hands and knees, she'd offered her back to Clark... and the man jumped on it like a bloody steak.
The crowd at last got to see the Division I wrestler in action, as he seized Mary's torso from behind in a body lock, hands interlaced around her stomach. Mary yelped as she got to her feet and started STAGGERING around the combat zone: she was carrying 230 pounds of Clark Still on her back.
Clark led her around the ring a few seconds, before finally delivering the punch line: he lifted Mary like a wooden pallet, swung her around 90 degrees, and planted her flat on her face.
"Ouch... Mary just got a dirt breakfast." Joe winced.
This was an utterly hopeless position for Mary, as she was flat as a pancake, and Clark was just ALL OVER HER. He could have easily punched her into oblivion from this position, and she couldn't have done a damn thing about it... but there was something in his eyes that desired different. Perhaps it was sportmanship, respect between grapplers, but he didn't want to defeat Mary like that.
Instead, he obliged to sink his arms around Mary's neck and put her in the classic, standard, textbook maneuver... the rear naked choke. Baby's first submission.
Mary felt it immediately: her mouth open wide to gasp, but no breath to use. Her vision grow blurry, her head start to feel warm, fuzzy, light... she wanted to tap out right there and then, and be spared from the monstrous arms wringing her neck from her shoulders.
But Mary was not that. She was a fighter, not a tapper.
Mary lifted with her back muscles, giving Clark resistance from the bottom as he tried to keep himself stable. She bucked and flailed, trying to gather a momentum to get him loose.
...Surprisingly, this was working. Unfortunately, the bigger man stayed too top-heavy and didn't distribute his weight equally while mounting her. It was a rookie mistake, and it cost him.
Mary was able to completely roll, like a turtle rolling onto its back, carrying Clark with her. Of course, this didn't completely solve the problem, as she was now laying against Clark, his arms still around her neck, but it was a MUCH better position, and this allowed the slender girl to slip around and be free of his crushing choke. With an easy turn, she flipped the script and was now in Clark's guard.
"YEAH MARY! THAT'S THE WAY TO DO IT!" Terry cheered.
As big a victory as it was for Mary to achieve top position... facts had to be faced, she was tired. Fighting Clark off had been an exhausting endeavor, and he was looking more and more like an unsolvable puzzle. He was bigger, stronger, and while her grappling credentials were far greater, his were still enough combined with his physical attributes to nullify her.
It wouldn't be long until Clark simply muscled her off him. She had to act now... do SOMETHING!
Mary abandoned her top position and threw herself backwards, snagging Clark's leg in the process. Wrapping her legs around his, straightening it out, she tucked her arms under his ankle and PULLED, locking his limb into a kneebar. With just a minimal amount of leverage from her hips, she could very well pop his kneecap out of place.
Clark's eyes couldn't be seen from his sunglasses, but the wincing of his teeth indicated he was FEELING it. He planted his arms by his sides and lifted, using pure muscle to elevate and try to alleviate the pressure. But he knew he couldn't be in this deadlock forever; his arms would lose the battle, and he'd have no form of resistance to prevent him losing his leg.
Thus, Clark pulled a desperate move. He shifted all his upper body weight into one focal point, and flung himself sideways, transitioning into a roll that took the entirety of Mary with him. With a loud curse, Mary lost the kneebar, and she tried to hold onto his leg and transition into a heel hook, but by that time... too late. Clark was able to yank his leg free of her grasp and the soldier was back upright.
Clark was back up, and he watched Mary... she was puffing, panting, wheezing, moving at a pace that didn't look like a tenth of what she started with. The simple effort of trying to return to her feet was crawling and climbing at air.
At this point, Terry couldn't bear to watch anymore. He pulled his cap down, to hide his grief from the attendants around him. "Mary... shit."
Heaving and desperate, Mary dived at Clark's feet and tried to secure a single-leg. Clark easily dug in underhooks beneath her armpits, and flung her aside. He allowed her back up to her feet again... but this time, he was done toying with her.
This time, CLARK pushed the initiative, shooting for a double-leg, seizing both limbs in his bear-grasp. Mary simply had no resistance to offer, and the big man scooped her up and lifted her high. He carried her so easily, like she was as light as a foldable chair, able to lift her with such ease, he was face-level with her chest.
SLAM! Mary went down hard. The impact was enough to sap away any strength reserves, any breath she had stored in her body.
"Ngggghaaahhhh!"
At this point, Mary might as well had just lay flat, and let Clark have his way with her. He easily passed into side control, snaking his left arm around her neck, trapping it within the constricting groove between his forearm and bicep. He shifted to angle himself, like a wrench tightening a screw... and he squeezed.
Much like her leg triangle earlier, his arm triangle used crushing constriction from three walls to block her airways, preventing any miniscule hope of oxygen coming to the rescue. Darkness crept around her, slowly permeating her peripheral vision, until even her forward vision was threatening to be engulfed in black. Her brain lost all sensation, like her head had sprouted wings, and flew to heaven, leaving her limp body laying...
To save herself the embarrassment of passing out in front of a live audience and the entire viewing world, she tapped rapidly, signaling Clark to let go and allow her lungs to regain life.
"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSP...!" Mary felt like she had been hit with a defibrillator, as her soul ascended back to Earth at the very last moment darkness had nearly taken her.
WINNER: CLARK STILL
Clark rose to his feet, overcome with victory. The first thing he did was turn to Ralf and aggressively raise his fist, proclaiming with explosive lungs: "OORAH!"
From the sidelines, Ralf responded in turn. "Oorah."
He turned back to Mary, who was still recovering on the ground, chest rising and falling gradually, to regain the stolen air. Ever a sportsman and a gentleman, he approached her fallen body and scooped her up, placing her back upright.
"Easy, easy." he soothed as she collapsed against him embarrassingly, still heaving a few times.
"Huff... huff... hufff!"
It was quite an awkward moment in the ring (and for Terry, watching ringside), and the awkwardness didn't really kick in for Mary until her breathing regulated and she was able to pay attention to where she was residing. At that point... she removed herself from Clark and smoothed everything out, her face showing signs of fluster.
Clark couldn't help but laugh. "Hehehe. Well, you were right, Mary... I DID enjoy getting tangled up with you. I think maybe you did too."
Mary's cheeks started to flare. "Sh-shut up! Congrats on winning!"
Not daring to look him in the face, Mary power-walked away from the combat zone and left Clark to revel in victory.
Terry was on his feet as Mary came rushing at him. "Hey Mary, you okay-"
She snatched him by the shirt. "You. Me. Showers. NOW."
OPENING ROUND FIGHT #3: ANGEL VS RAMON
While not "officially" a Kumite rematch, this fated meeting between the two Mexican wrestlers was not the first. In fact, Angel and Ramon had faced each other a total of four times. Two of those, including the Open Call of last year, victory belonged to Ramon. The other two, courtesy of Angel.
...But nobody cared about this backstory. The esteemed audience and fans alike had already made their OWN: one in which Ramon was a hero, and Angel was the queen villain begging to be struck down. This was the narrative the snow-haired girl successfully wove after an unpleasant two days in Munich, Germany, in which she succeeded in naught but two things: getting drunk and being an insufferable bitch.
Thus, all eyes were on Ramon. The reluctant luchador, despite whatever feelings he carried for the misguided woman, was lauded as the one to bring justice to the tournament, and once again end Angel's reign of terror before it got any worse. The fact that people saw him defeat Angel on live television last year produced an interesting influx of bets... and Mr. Big was sure to cash in on that sweet molasses.
Angel had no qualms about playing her part. After walking out to a series of collective boos from the fighters sitting on the sidelines, she produced her most natural response: reaching towards her crotch and shaking her hand back and forth in a jerking motion, finally completing the vulgar taunt with outstretched fingers towards them. She did this with an "angelic" smile on her face.
"If Ramon doesn't beat her ass, I'm about to be disqualified from this tournament." Vanessa spoke aloud, her eyes never leaving her enemy's.
"I wish... they were here to see this. " Kula whispered solemnly, referencing her missing friends. At the very least, Diana and Foxy could witness this battle from the audience, and hopefully get some karma for what happened to Foxy earlier.
Once Angel had her fill of rousing the masses, she turned her attention to Ramon. "Back for another round?"
Ramon remained calm and composed. "Miss Anjel, I don't want to do this."
To that, Angel let out an obnoxious laugh. "Ahahahahaha! Of course you don't, hermano. That's why you're the good guy... that's why you're weak."
That produced a cocked eyebrow. "...Weak?"
Angel thrust a finger. "Yes, Ramon. WEAK. You don't know what it's like, to have the whole world, and God Almighty against you. Nobody to watch your back. Nobody to share the burdens, to shoulder the repercussions. You got your little posse of assorted playmates, people who bind you to them like a dog on a leash, dragging you around, robbing you of your individuality!"
Ramon took a step forward. "That's the sound of a very skewed perspective, Miss Anjel!"
Ignoring his comeback, she presented her hands to her chest as she continued. "But not me. I'm different... I'm a survivor. I lost everything that mattered to me, and guess what? I'M STILL HERE. I don't need NESTS anymore. They nurtured me, molded me... made me into something powerful. Something strong enough to stand on my OWN, when nobody else is around."
Ramon started to open his mouth... but an unsettling jolt bolted it shut when he saw Angel lift her hand high, fingers outstretched towards the sun... and her eyes started VIOLENTLY quivering.
"I can feel it in me... hahahahahaha...!" she chuckled a deep menacing chuckle as her eyes grew bloodshot. "The nanites they pumped me full of. The shit they stabbed me with, to make me greater than a human! I... am NOT human! I'm just ME! I'm f***ing ANGEL! I'm stronger, smarter, more beautiful, and I JUST DON'T GIVE A F***! I'll hurt anybody! I'll walk over ANY! BODY! Even you, Ramon baby."
Ramon's confidence wavered slightly, as he retreated a step back. "...You're not right today, Angel. You need help. You... you don't know what you're saying. It's all cynical BS! I know you're different than this! That's why I..."
"Why you what? Tolerate me?" Angel snarked. "You're so full of shit, Ramon. Everyone knows you're just trying to earn a few self-righteous karma points by pretending like you're some noble soul who's going to 'save me' or some shit. Or maybe... you just want to get in my pants, hmmmm? Is that you're underlying goal? Is that your little scheme? Vanessa not doing it for you anymore~?"
"CIERRE A LA MIERDA!" Ramon cursed, the etheral film of his composure slowly unraveling.
Angel just took glee in it, her eyes widening with a psychotic joy. "FUFUFUFUFUFUFUFUFUFUFU! I just love getting under your skin, Ramon! Let's see if I can go further eh? Hmmm? How about I just kill you, and then I'll F*** VANESSA RIGHT ON TOP OF YOUR ROTTING CORPSE!"
Ramon charged at her.
FIGHT!
He cocked his arm back: the velocity with which he unleashed his forward elbow could have snapped her neck, had Angel not ducked it at the last moment. Ramon had swung so wildly, he had to spin around a few times just to halt his momentum.
Angel let loose a mocking laugh. "Ahahaha! So I can even get you riled up, eh Ramon? Still undefeated! Come at me again, and I'll scoop out your other eye!"
Ramon growled viciously as he swung at Angel with an opehanded 1-2; she ducked and weaved the respective strikes, and he mixed up his combination with a stomping low kick. Angel dodged it, and as his whiffed momentum spun him around, he transitioned into an aggressive sobat... but Angel was simply too fast, and dodged the explosive kick, leaving Ramon attacking air.
"I quite like this side of you, Ramon." Angel teased. "The side that realizes he's wasted his f***ing time, and he's pissed about it. I LIKE IT! Show me more!"
The taunting words of Angel seeped into his skin, permeating his bloodstream, further igniting the infernal bubbling of his inflamed psyche. This woman, this she-DEVIL... after all he did for her... all the sacrifices he made, the naysayers he defended her against... her true colors were terminal. Unchanging. Everlasting. She was beyond help.
All that could be done at this point... was strike her down. Quell the raging beast.
Ramon lunged at her with a lariat. Angel laughed... and her body whizzed past him in a BLUR, blinding speed, incomparable to man's limits.
In an instant, she was behind Ramon, arms around his neck, trapping him in a headlock.
"Hnnngrrk...!"
Instead of choking him, Angel wrenched his head downwards, raised her elbow, and rained down on him with two BRUTAL strikes, right on his spine. Ramon could feel the jolt cascade through his nervous system, temporarily halting his resistance, putting him at her mercy for the next strike...
Her strength too much to bear, Angel kept him folded over, as she brought her knee upside his head, catching him clean on the temple. As Ramon writhed from the blow, he felt the warmth of his blood... that knee had split the side of his head open.
Nearly off his feet, Ramon slingshotted towards Angel and crashed into her waist, seizing her in a body lock. Raw strength enabled him to drag her to the ground, but before he could achieve a mount, her feet pressed on him for leverage and catapulted him over her head, throwing him far enough away that she could easily return to her feet.
Ramon was back up, but he was still wobbly. The blood trickled down, staining the black of his shirt, making him look even more savage than the look of murder in his one eye.
"That's right, Ramon... come at me... come and take me." Angel beckoned. "Rip my head off. Break my neck like a celery stalk. I know you want it. Pay me back everything I owe."
They met in the middle, and Angel nearly took him off his feet with a jaw-rattling left hook. Ramon reeled, but his feet stayed planted and he came back across Angel's face with a reverse forearm. His first clean hit.
Angel wasn't prepared for it either; she yelped as she recoiled, giving Ramon a free follow-up shot: a boot to her stomach, doubling her over, offering her head to him. Ramon obliged: LEAPING into the air, elbow pointed downwards, he came down on the back of her head with every bit of his weight and power focused into one strike.
"OOOOOF!"
Angel was laid out flat, facefirst in the dirt. The crowd cheered, heralding Ramon for ending her reign of evil... but her fingers still clutched the dirt angrily, so tight it slipped through the crevasses between her digits.
"TODAVÍA AQUÍ, PERRA!" Angel spat dirt and venom as she sprang up, like an emerging dolphin, uppercutting Ramon in the chin, following up with a staggering low kick to his left calf, followed by another, and ANOTHER... Ramon's leg was about to give out, so he desperately clinched with Angel, pressing himself against her, to stifle her strikes.
...Angel was in full swing, and she wasn't slowing down. The nanites coursed through her, strengthening her... giving her immeasurable insight, intellect, technique...
Ramon was easily shoved away. He tried to swing at her: Angel ducked and seized his waist from behind. She started to lift...
..Ramon reversed his fortunes! He broke her wrist control, spun around out of her fateful grip, tucked an arm underneath her armpit and lifted... he flung her over his shoulder with one arm, slamming her in the dirt, the impact so grand it kicked up a considerable dirt cloud.
"F***ing shit... PTEWWWW!" she grimaced as she hit the ground hard, having a second helping of dirt in her mouth.
Angel was out flat for the second time, only this time, Ramon dived on her back and pursued a finish. He slipped his arms around her neck and tried for the rear naked, but he couldn't hold Angel down, and she was back up, carrying him like a backpack.
Simply not giving a shit, Angel dived forwards, flopping to the ground, CRUSHING Ramon underneath her weight. The impact alone made him let go, and Angel was free to distance herself from him and recover, while he staggered to his feet.
"Nothing you do can stop me." Angel addressed. "You can come at me with all your anger, all your killer instinct... but I'll always win. I'm stronger! I'm sexier! NESTS made me a living f***ing goddess, one who doesn't need to be carried by a bunch of pansies! You're useless against me one-on-one! You've been spending too much time getting weak, dependent, SOFT! You're somebody's bitch, Ramon... that's all you are. Somebody's bitch."
Ramon crawled back up, panting, wheezing... half of his face was red with blood, crusted with dirt mixed in. But the blood hadn't seeped into his eye, thus he could still see Angel... and peer at her with all the vengeance in his heart.
"Miss Anjel..." Ramon addressed her back. "Thank you."
"...Thank me?"
"I don't have to put myself at odds with the people I care about in your name anymore." Ramon continued. "I'm going to rectify every mistake, every wasted moment... right here. You're going to leave this Stadium humbled. I swear it. I swear on my dying breath."
Angel's eyes grew bloodshot. "THAT CAN BE ARRANGED!"
She phase-shifted at blinding speed and threw a stomping body kick; Ramon caught her leg in mid-swing, and FLUNG her to the ground with a leg whip.
He scrambled behind her, seized her head under his arms, and cranked on her neck with a bulldog choke.
"Maldito bastardo...!" Angel cursed him as she softened his grip with a series of hard elbows to his gut. Ramon tried to take them, but they kept coming... one, after the other, after the other... his ribs could only take so much before they dislodged.
He was finally forced to let go. Angel punished him with a short uppercut, lifting his head high... and she clasped his head with both hands and butt flopped, dragging him into the dirt and slamming him. Ramon's neck immediately flared with pain; something definitely got pulled.
When the two of them returned to their feet, Ramon was not standing right... tried as he did to posture up, an intense pain flared up in his neck that forced him back downwards. Nonetheless, he staggered forward. He all but plowed into Angel, and tried to hold her in a collar tie, but his strength was failing him... and Angel's seemed to only increase.
"Nope!" she laughed as she dug in underhooks, pried him off, and fired a knee to his gut that rendered him stiff.
"Agh... aghhh..." he groaned as he watched her walk away from him, powerless to pursue after her.
She got some distance, a good 20 yards, got a running start... she leaped at Ramon, scissored her legs around his neck, and took him for a rodeo spin. Whipping around 180, her legs carried Ramon and sent him on a wild ride into the dirt.
The two got back up, Angel in an instant... and Ramon, at this point, was barely making it back up.
"Cmon, Ramon." she jeered. "Come stumble over here and give me a nice kiss."
The luchador, on shaky legs, slowly shuffled over to Angel... he cocked back and gave her his best punch. She simply laughed. He caught her cheek with another. Another laugh.
"Huff... huff... RRRAAAAAAGH!" Ramon put every last bit of strength he had into one last elbow smash... he caught her flush and she reeled backwards like a swaying tree... as she recovered, the slightest bit of red began to ooze from her forehead.
And yet she smiled.
Angel did something weird. Still smiling, she extended her arms like a hug, and ALLOWED Ramon to shoot on her. He did just that: he dived at her legs, scooped her up, slammed her easily. She even laughed as he achieved top position and brought a forearm crashing across her face.
"Ahahahaha! HAHAHAHAHAHA!" she just cackled as she took several desperate blows from the heaving, howling Ramon.
He postured up, prepared to blast her once again... her hand shot upwards, grabbing his face, and he felt something leave him.. an extension of his skin, a piece of his being, slip free and escape.
He looked down... and she was holding that precious piece of him.
"Y... y... you..."
Angel cruelly tossed it aside, shoved Ramon off of her, and was back up to her feet in seconds. He didn't even make an effort to get up; he was too busy covering the hollow remnant, shamefully shielding himself from the gazes of the audience.
"You can't even keep yourself in one piece." Angel insulted, as she snatched him up by the hair, and drove a forearm into his gut. As he hunched over, she leaped up, crushing his face with a flying knee... and Ramon hit the ground, unconscious, a mask of blood painted over him. The blood found its way to a new destination: one that was no longer covered as it should be.
WINNER: ANGEL
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
"DIRTY BITCH!"
"F***ING SKANK!"
"YOU FIGHT DIRTY! YOU DIRTY WHORE!"
A symphony of boos accompanied Angel as she turned her back to the unconscious man, and walked away... she turned around for a slight moment, giving a half-look at what she'd wrought, before quickly pressing onward. If she had any remorse in her jaded heart, it was tucked away in a deep, dark recess.
On the sidelines, three schemers watched this unfold with pleased faces.
"That girl..." Yashiro muttered to his teammates with an evil smile. "She's doing wonders for us."
Who can stop the terrible Reign of Angel? Will her NESTS-enhanced body carry her all the way to the end? I mean... heels win it all sometimes in wrestling, don't they? I don't know personally, but I'm sure some of you do.
NEXT CHAPTER: A Psycho Soldier comes to grips with her destiny, but her bun-eating unrequited love isn't prepared to take things sitting down. Will Krauser get his revenge? Or will Kensou make other plans? Find out next time!
Also, there will be fights. So that. Love you guys.
