I’m posting this in chunks in the ‘other areas’ board because it’s happening off-campus, outside of a LAW arena, in an abandoned house. All characters referenced here who don’t have art provided in the thread can be found in my signature/roster page, for those that want reference; because this is an RP board, feel free to post any in-character reactions for those watching: reacting to eliminations, placing bets on ‘survivors,’ grabbing some popcorn and digging in for the carnage, talking smack about how much better they would fare, etc.!]
HALLOWEEN SLUMBER PARTY MASSACRE DEATH MATCH
Mixed Handicap Match with an Eight Hour Time Limit; No Disqualification, Competitors are Eliminated When Incapacitated by Opponent Until They Have No Chance of Competing
The Team Of: Felicity Elliot, Gemma Faraday, Hana Harada, Holly Matheson, Kamen Moon, Misty Sims, Santa Tigresa IV, Soledad Vega, Betty West
“Hey there, fans of frights and fights!” The woman on screen wasn’t a regular LAW official, competitor or even guest, but to those that binged late-night horror movies on basic cable (especially the worst of the worst), she was a legend. Tonight, however, LAW management had asked the maven of the macabre to provide a fun, sexy introduction to what would go down as one of LAW’s oddest, and possibly most horrible, ideas …
“Sorry, girls, no such luck! See, tonight, they are being stalked by none other than lucha-resu death match legend, Ultrasatanico! For the uninitiated, Ultrasatanico was a star of the 90’s death match scene, and he hasn’t been in a sanctioned match since that scene finally died finally went out of fashion for the wrestler’s own good. Imagine that, fans, pro wrestling looked at something and said, ‘okay, maybe this is too much!’ So you know poor Ultrasatanico is hard up for a little action, and he’s probably looking at a house full of nine young, nubile wrestlers like an all-you-can-eat buffet of bad decisions!
“Now, for rules, we’ve got just a couple, so here they are. A competitor is eliminated when they’re incapacitated. What’s that word mean? I don’t know, I didn’t get this job based on my big, spacious vocabulary! There’s no disqualification, so anything goes, so I’m hoping we see folks get creative, here. There is a way to survive, however: if any of the girls can last until sunrise, that’s it, they win! I know that’s usually when I turn in, but we’ll see how many of our wrestlers can pull an all nightery. They don’t really seem like college material, either, you know what I’m saying? So that’s it. Nine girls, one bloodthirsty luchador, and about eight hours of chaos ahead of us. The action is coming to all of us through hidden cameras, ample microphones and a couple of discreet drones, so grab your favorite snack, get online and start placing bets on who’s getting taken out and how, and enjoy the first- and, if God is paying any attention at all, the last- Slumber Party Massacre Death Match!”
“What the blinking hell was that?” Gemma Faraday asked, staring at the television. The steampunky Brit was one of several women in the room, now all shown on LAW camera, staring in horror at the central television set. The women were in the expansive living room of a secluded mansion, seated in big chairs around a table laden with snacks, a fancy balcony overlooking them, everything seemingly the picture of comfort … aside from the dread that permeated the room!
“This is not what I signed up for,” Holly Matheson, the Loser’s Champion, told the room with a pout. “Not that I had much of a choice, in the matter …”
“So, I’m not kicking all of your asses?” Soledad Vega asked, huffing a little bit. “I was kind of picturing a little pillow fight, maybe some Halloween candy, now I gotta team with you bitches?”
Misty Sims, Harada Hana, Felicity Elliot and Kamen Moon sat in a semi-circle, looking equally bewildered. They had just caught the same introduction that the LAW fans had gotten and were all left unsure of what to think. From the information they had gotten, a house-wide pillow fight, something of that nature. Now it seemed it … definitely wasn’t that.
“She said nine women …” Kamen Moon said. “Where’s the last one?” As if on cue, a loud crash through the front window of the house cut off any reply, as a curvaceous body came crashing through! Half the competitors screamed, their voices filling the air while the tinkle of broken glass hitting floorboards echoed. They stood and looked to see the body of Santa Tigresa laid out between them.
The luchadora looked horrible. Her forehead cut, blood matting her long, raven hair, the luchadora rolled onto her back, face turned up to the lights. Santa Tigresa’s ample bust strained against her spandex clothing, shallow breaths the only sign of life from her limp form, her curves still swaying with the momentum of being thrown through the window. As the girls stared in horror, a voice came on a PA system running through the house:
”Santa Tigresa IV has been … ELIMINATED. Boy, hope for you girls’ sake there’s a Santa Tigresa V, ready to go!”
Kamen Moon and Gemma Faraday exchanged an angry look, over the catty joke. Meanwhile, some of the more naïve girls, from Misty to Betty to Hana, recoiled in wide-eyed horror. Hands over their heaving chests they took deep breaths, realizing that this match was not at all what they had been led to believe.
“We need to get her out of here,” Kamen Moon said, finally. “Competition or not, Santa Tigresa is a great luchadora, and she deserves better than this.”
“Or, we could worry about ourselves,” Sola said, with a sharp edge to her voice. Slowly, with a trembling hand, Felicity reached for the downed luchadora’s mask, only to have her hand swatted away by Misty.
“I’m with you,” Gemma said. “I know I wouldn’t want to end up like that.” Without another word, Gemma placed her hands beneath Santa Tigresa’s arms, pulling her up off the floor. Kamen Moon immediately stepped forward, taking La Santa’s boots and tucking them beneath her arms, hefting the thick luchadora off the floor and starting to pull her toward a back room, so they could lay her out in peace.
“What the hell are we going to do?” Misty said, watching with wide, wet eyes as the other two girls pulled the luchadora out of the room.
“I could go for a drink,” Betty West offered, clearing her throat with a hand over her heart.
“Sod this,” Holly said, suddenly. “J-just … just sod this!” The British Bombshell stood in the center of the room, fists at her hips, watching the body of arguably the strongest woman on their ‘team’ getting dragged out of the room.
“Everything okay, Champ?” Sola asked, with a raised eyebrow.
“Look, you can all sit around and wait for … whatever,” Holly said, turning toward the door. “But I absolutely will not! I am getting the hell out of here!”
“A-are you sure about that?” Misty asked, looking nervously around the room. Holly didn’t listen. Drawing a deep, chest-inflating breath, the British Bombshell threw open the door, and stormed out into the night. She took a few striding steps off the porch, then broke into a full run! Panic overtook her, thick thighs pumping as she ran like hell across the lawn of the house in the middle of the night. Chest heaving, barely staying contained, the buxom Brit made a break for it … only to be cut off by a massive arm emerging from behind a tree, cutting her escape short with a heavy clothesline!
“AAAH!’ Misty, Hana and Felicity all screamed in unison as they saw Holly take the hit. The Brit caught the clothesline right across her bouncing bosom, her momentum making her legs kick up, her body flip over, then land hard face down in the dirt. Her shimmering white gear was immediately caked in mud, her fair skin picking up dirt. Holly coughed in pain, winded by the hit. She looked up to see a massive man, clad in red, a satanic mask glaring down at her.
“Haahh,” the masked man grunted as he reached down, hooked Holly beneath both arms, and hefted her up. With little effort, the wrestler pulled Holly into the air, until her legs were straight up. Her long raven hair hung low, her expression one of total horror as she looked out into the night. Her heaving breasts threatened to come spilling out of her ring gear at any moment as she took deep, panicked breaths.
“N-no, wait! No!” Holly cried out, right before the masked man threw her forward, dumping her unceremoniously on her front, knocking the life out of her. Holly lay there, ass jiggling, her body otherwise motionless. Ultrasatanico reached down, grabbing a fistful of her hair, then dragged her toward the lawn. The girls inside watched powerless, horrified, as he pulled her toward a plot of dirt. A shovel sat nearby.
“W-what are you doing?” Holly asked, as he dragged her up to her knees. The villain said nothing as he grabbed Holly by the throat, yanking her up to her feet. He drove a fist into her soft belly, making her double over and give a long, loud groan of misery. Ultrasatanico then hefted her up off her feet, grabbing her tights to give her a full, ass-exposing wedgie, the last anyone saw of the loser’s champion as she dangled over the precipice.
“N-now, wait! Please, don’t do this! Please!” Holly cried out, before her opponent choke slammed her straight into the open grave! Winded, Holly lay there, body heaving. The low light caught her alabaster skin, shiny with sweat and tears, as she took deep, horrified breaths. Holly began to hyperventilate, as Ultrasatanico picked up the shovel, and got to work throwing dirt on her lovely body!
“No … please, please … don’t bury meee …” Holly whimpered, wincing as each shovel full of dirt buried her body. She tried to push herself up, but by the time her aching body responded, it was too late. The shovels full of dirt weighed her down, and she struggled to get up. Her thick legs pumped, her chest squirmed out of the dirt only to catch another shovel full, and she dropped again. She held her arm up as if to plead, but her face caught a choking load of dirt and she fell again. Soon, Holly had been buried in the ground, her body disappearing into the earth, totally powerless to escape an utterly gruesome fate.
”Holly Matheson, has been … ELIMINATED! I know that poor girl gets buried all the time, but this has to be a new low, even for her!”
In the house, the sound of the loudspeaker seemed to bring the girls back to reality.
“AAAAH!” Hana, Misty, Betty and Felicity all screamed in unison, watching Holly’s body disappear into the dirt. Kamen Moon and Gemma came back into the room just in time to see Sola roll her eyes and try to slap a couple of girls back to their senses.
“Stop it!” Gemma shouted. “Bloody hell, this is what he wants! We need to get our shit together, not act like a bunch of noodly little tosspots! For God’s sake, it’s still seven on one!”
“For now …” Sola said, after Moon interjected herself between the Puerto Rican street fighter and a thoroughly slapped-up Misty.
“I like that mask,” Felicity said, a finger over her lips.
“Gals,” Betty said, still staring outside, “where’s the guy?” The plot of land where Holly had been buried was now empty, save for a lonely shovel.
“Oh, hell no!” Misty shouted, eyes widening. Hana ran her fingers through her hair, chest deflating as she let out a loud sigh. Kamen Moon rushed to the window.
“Let’s fuckin scramble, eh?” Sola suggested. “Make him work for it. He chases us down, he gets pinned tired. Or whatever’s going to happen.”
“We should find weapons,” Gemma said, nodding. “There has to be something to hit him with. Make him pay for … for doing that, to Holly …” Slowly, Gemma turned, and jogged down the nearest hallway, into the dark. Reluctantly, the other girls started to go their own ways. Sola lingered, then went after Gemma. Looking to avoid her, Misty and Hana went another way, down a dimly-lit corridor. Betty made a beeline for the kitchen, brushing hair out of her face. Alone, Kamen Moon noted that she hadn’t seen Felicity Elliot in a while, and figured the black cat was on her own. Shaking it off, the Heroine of Moon followed her panicked ‘teammates,’ and went off into the dark …