Kuroi Kamakaze vs. Sheila Morgan - Chaotic Elements

[BlackAkuma]

Words couldn't describe how satisfying it was to smash Kuroi’s face into that steel. She was far from the first bitch that the Wild One had pummeled like that, but there was just something supremely satisfying about drilling a martial arts maven like this down on the steps, something that just made her soul sing. The sound of the cracking impact. The audience’s reeling. Oh, and the sweet sound of nothing that came when she finally shut the bitch up.

Perfect. She could use a little more of that.

Sheila leaned up against the ring after the hit to rub her neck, still a little sore from the choke. She was just about to move in to keep the ball rolling, when the referee’s voice reminded her what sort of match this was.

”Four!”

”Right, right, right.” Sheila spat off to the side and reached over to grab Kuroi’s hair, pulling her back to continue their quick, guided tour of the ringside area. With some hurried steps, she marched over to the announcer’s desk, pressed her foe up against it to keep her standing, and rattled off a couple of quick elbows to the face with her spare arm, trying to knock the daylights out of her…but not so much that she would fall down. She had an idea for what to do next, but she needed Kuroi to remain upright, if a little dizzy.

[PuroQueen]

Kuroi's vision swam as the world spun around her, her head throbbing from the impact of the steel steps against her face. It took more willpower than she was willing to admit to keep from blacking out, her breathing ragged as she tried to steady herself.

She gasped through gritted teeth, her hands balling up into fists that were still far too shaky to be put into good use. Her opponent's satisfaction was palpable, and it was clear that she wasn't done with her yet. Kuroi tried to position herself for a counter assault, but before she could even take a step, she was being dragged across the ring side, her hair in Sheila's grip.

She struggled as best she could, her feet dragging across the floor as she was hauled towards the announcer's desk. Kuroi's back slammed against the wooden surface, and she let out a grunt of pain as Sheila's elbow connected with her face again and again. Kuroi's head snapped back with each hit, her eyes starting to glaze over as the blows continued to rain down.

"GRRRAGH!" Kuroi vented out her frustration with a loud roar admist the hellstorm of strikes. The barrage was ferocious and unyielding: It was hard to believe that it was coming from the same woman who had been choking beneath her foot just moments ago. God, she really should have put this bitch down when she had the chance.

But despite the pain, Kuroi refused to show weakness. She gritted her teeth and reached out, grabbing onto the edge of the desk to keep herself steady. She knew that Sheila was trying to prepare her for something, but she wasn't about to make it easy for her. If her opponent wanted a fight, Kuroi was more than happy to oblige. With a swift swing, Kuroi tried to connect her elbow with Sheila's midsection, aiming to knock the wind out of her and maybe give herself some breathing room.

[BlackAkuma]

With each hit Sheila landed on Kuroi, she could feel a rush running through her system, a raw energy that was growing stronger the longer this went on. She was built for this kind of match - long, hard, grueling, the kind that made her bones ache and left her hurting for days. Hardcore or not, it was taking her to that special place, where adrenaline started to take over and she reached her peak, and the results were clear to see - her opponent, laid out, reeling. She’d been holding on since this match started, and now it was time for payback.

”Fuck! Your! Face!” She drilled each hit in with serious aplomb, leaving her foe reeling, getting in some of the best hits in the match and evening the score between them. She slumped forward after a few good hits, needing a quick breather, but the damage had been done, and her foe was clearly feeling it, looking well worn out for the time being.

Good progress. Only one problem.

”Seven! Sheila, get back in the ring!”

She had a hard grunt as she looked over her shoulder, not bothering to hide the annoyance. Yeah, she’d have to get back in there, there was no way she was going to let this match end through a countout, even if it got her the win. But that did give her an idea.

”Back in the ring. Right.” She gave Kuroi one more elbow for the road. ”Hold a sec.”

Sheila pushed away from Kuroi and dashed back towards the ring, sliding in under the bottom rope. She popped to her feet fast, barely losing any momentum as she came storming across the ring. She hit the ropes, bounced off, and ran back towards her opponent with even more speed, her hair flying behind her as she went.

Sheila waited until the last second, then ducked and threw her body through the top and middle rope, turning into a living missile, flying out of the ring towards Kuroi to hit her with her own kamikaze move - a tope suicida, or as she called it, Across The Border.

[PuroQueen]

It was a small miracle that Kuroi was still standing after the barrage of attacks. Each hit felt like a sledgehammer smashing into her, and she could feel her body being pushed to its limit. She had never allowed Sheila to get actual hits on her so far in the match, but now that she had, Kuroi knew she had made a grave mistake not going full throttle from the start. Even in her past promotions, where rules were seldom followed, opponents like Sheila were a rarity.

Kuroi didn't know whether she admired or hated that about Sheila. But a final elbow smashing into her face answered that question for her.

Hate. Definitely hate.

As Sheila rushed back into the ring and towards the other side, Kuroi tried to gather her strength and prepare for what was coming. But it was too late. Sheila had already launched herself back through the ropes, her body a blur as she flew towards Kuroi with incredible speed.

Kuroi tried to move out of the way, but her body refused to cooperate. She was too slow, too tired, too hurt. All she could do was brace herself for impact, closing her eyes as Sheila's body crashed into hers.

The results were devastating. Kuroi was thrown backwards, her body slamming into the announcers table and shattering it into pieces. Pain shot through her nimble frame, and she cried out in agony, her back arcing as she struggled to catch a single breath. She lay crumpled amidst a heap of wood and metal, like a piece of meat in the middle of a train wreck. Unable to speak, Kuroi could only convey her thoughts with a single, solitary, murderous look in her opponent's eyes that said it all: Once I get my hands on you, you're dead. Abso-fucking-lutely dead.

[BlackAkuma]

As Sheila went sailing through the air, it occurred to her that, as with many decisions in her life, she hadn't thought this through too much.

While she’d done this move before, she’d only do it back home, in her backyarder promotion, where there was a distinct lack of an announcer’s table…or announcers at all, but that was another matter. She was more used to doing this move when she had some idea of what was behind her opponent, when they only had open space or maybe a light barricade to worry about. Not like this. She had no clue how that desk would hold up to the impact.

As it turned out? Poorly.

The damn thing was obliterated, smashing into a thousand pieces as the commentators fled and they went crashing through it, Sheila rolled off Kuroi as the fell through and wound up smacking her back against the barricade, hitting it with a hard thud that made it shift a couple of inches. Yeah. It sucked. But it sucked worse for Kuroi, so…win.

Sheila flopped over to her chest and breathed heavy, filling in her lung, as the pounding in her ears faded and the sound of the raucous crowd took its place. Standard or not, they were getting into it, and that was never a bad thing to hear.

With a growing, dark chuckle, she pushed her way back up to her hands and knees, just in time to see the look of utter hatred in Kuroi’s eyes. The tastiest icing on the cake. ”What?” She spat a little blood off to the side. ”Not having fun yet?” She reached over, grabbed a handful of Kuroi’s unruly hair, and started to stand up, trying to drag her foe along for the ride. ”Bet I can fix that.”

[PuroQueen]

For all of her malicious intentions, even Kuroi wasn't accustomed to such barbarity in a fight. She was used to open mats and trained combatants, where moves required timing, technique, and practice - fucking skill to pull off and execute. Fighting was an art, one that she wielded with deadly precision, and one that would make her unstoppable in both body and spirit.

But here was Sheila, unweaving every notion Kuroi had ever had of fighting by simply relying on naked impulse and reckless abandon. By all metrics, Sheila shouldn't have been able to lay a finger on the deadly martial artist, let alone leave her in such a wreck on her debut no less.

It went without saying that Kuroi detested her for it. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as the surge of anger and vitriol in her mind slowly overrode any semblance of pain her body might have been feeling.

As they locked eyes, Kuroi's rage boiled over. She was sick of playing nice, sick of holding back. But if the ref up there had anything to say about it, it was that no matter how badly she wanted to, Kuroi still couldn't get too carried away. Or at the very least, notice it.

Eh... Fuck it.

As Sheila dragged her up by her hair, Kuroi's fingers discreetly traced the ground, searching for something - anything - that she could use to her advantage. Her hand brushed against a sharp piece of metal debris from the remnants of the announcer's table, and without hesitation, Kuroi subtly palmed it, concealing it within her grip. Another guttural growl lapsed through her throat as she feigned weakness, disheveled hair masking her cherry lips as they slowly twitched into a smile.

"Au contraire," Kuroi hissed through clenched teeth, "the fun's just getting started." She wouldn't give her opponent much time to process what she meant, as her body quickly spun around, the harsh twisting of her hair against her scalp eliciting another cry, but the pain would soon be worth it. With her back turned against the referee, Kuroi would launch her palm into a wide arc, metal bit exposed as she aimed to smash it right into the side of Sheila's temple. If successful, Kuroi would quickly let the debris slip through her fingers, praying the loud clang of the foreign object against the floor would be masked among the wild jeers and hollers of the much closer and more perceptive crowd.

[BlackAkuma]

As much as it still pissed Sheila off that she had to get down with a non-hardcore match, she couldn't help but give herself some flowers for toughing through it and still finding a way to come out on top. This was 100% not the sort of match that she wanted to get used to, but fuck it, she was making it work, doing the best with a pain-in-the-ass situation, and while it had been a rough go at the start, she could feel the wind swinging in her direction.

It seemed like the gap in stamina was the difference maker, here - while they’d both taken on a lot of damage, Sheila had more left in her health bar, still had some gas to work with, while Kuroi was getting by on fumes. Once they were back in the ring, she’d drop the bitch with a Kitchen Sink, and call it a day.

Her opponent had other ideas.

Sheila was on the path to bringing her back in the ring, getting them there one step at a time, when she heard Kuroi saying…something. It was hard to make out with the crowd still riding the high of the table crash, but she had the strong suspicion she wouldn't like whatever it was. In the next moment, her opponent spun around and lashed out, with an attack she figured came from sheer desperation, nothing to worry about.

She only caught sight of the object in Kuroi’s hand at the last instant, far too late to do anything about it. It crack against Sheila’s face and she crumbled on impact, falling flat on her back as she clutched her face and let out a stream of guttural curses. Blood was already seeping through her fingers. A bad sign by itself, but she was more pissed that Kuroi had beat her to it than anything else. ”Cheap shot, fucking cheap bullshit…”

[PuroQueen]

Kuroi watched with sickening satisfaction as her opponent crumpled to the ground, clutching her face and cursing up a storm. She took a step back, rubbing away the pain in her scalp while surveying her handiwork with a sense of pride. Sheila was down, blood dripping through her fingers, and Kuroi had made it happen. It was long past due if you asked her, but hey, better late than never.

Her eyes shot back towards the referee, an obvious look of ire and suspicion on the official's face. "Whoops, my bad! Forgot to register these as lethal weapons!" Kuroi said coyly, flashing her open palms in the referee's direction. The crowd derided the striped official's ignorance, but unable to act without evidence, the referee resumed the count, this time paying extra close attention as Kuroi turned around to face her downed opponent.

She bent down to grab Sheila by her hair, dragging her up to her feet before catching her injured opponent in a tight clinch. Tightening the embrace, Kuroi leaned in even closer, resting her chin on the blonde's shoulder while leaving her mouth to hover by the woman's ear. The only thing cheap around here is you, you fucking whore," Kuroi disparaged. In a moment of sudden uncouth impulse, Kuroi's tongue lashed out from between her lips, taking a lick of Sheila's bloodied forehead before retreating back into her mouth with a psychotic grin, "MMMHM... I take that back! That's top tier stuff" Kuroi said while smacking her lips together, a collective gasp rippling through the audience as the unhinged martial artist visibly relished in the salty tang of her opponent's blood.

"I wonder what else you've got that tastes that good..." The devious girl's voice trailed off as her eyes wondered ever downwards, violating every inch of Sheila's body with her gaze before resting on the enticing and vulnerable space between her thighs. Without warning, Kuroi's leg would suddenly shoot upwards, unleashing a brutal knee right into Sheila's groin! If successful, Kuroi would do her best to shield the illegal tactic from the referee's view, wrapping her arms tight around Sheila's frame to prevent the girl from collapsing completely, but there was no hiding such a blatant blow to the crotch.

"What the-HEY! I've got my eye on you, Kuroi! You're this close to disqualif -"

"I know, I know!... fucking cunt," Kuroi mumbled beneath her breath.

[BlackAkuma]

A chair to the face.

A kendo stick to the back.

A rope around the neck.

Multiple shots across the body with fluorescent light tubes.

As Sheila laid on the floor and the blood seeping through her fingers, she began to fantasize about all the things she wanted to do to Kuroi, all the pain she wanted to inflict on this woman's body. She wasn’t mad about getting clobbered with whatever the bitch had grabbed, that would’ve been fair play, but getting dropped with it when they were both supposed to be playing nice was just grating. She’d never been good at sneaking shit past referee’s since the ones in her own promotion had just been around to count the pins. It made her want to face this bitch in a real hardcore match even more, if only to even up the score.

Kuroi had the advantage now, and she was wise to press it fast, reaching down to scoop Sheila off the floor before she could put up more than a token resistance. She expected to get thrown back in the ring, but as it turned out, her foe had different plans. Nastier plans. Plans that involved pulling her in close, catching her in a tight clench, and letting her tongue run wild over the wound she’d made.

Sheila wasn’t a proud, she had no problems with blood, and she had no shame in being the kinkiest bitch in the room 99% of the time, but Kuroi even had her shivering with that one, and her first impulse was to push away, as grossed out by the act as the audience was. She couldn't pull away, however, and found herself flailing as her foe shot her leg straight up between her legs, driving the point into her crotch.

She cried out from the strike, then sagged forward, and would’ve fallen right there if Kuroi hadn't caught her. But this close, with Kuroi trapping her in the clench and all the pain in her lower body, there wasn’t much she could do to fight back. Yet. For now, Sheila just held up on tight and scratched at her opponent’s shoulders, keeping herself standing. ”Bitch, I am going to fucking end your dumb arse.”

[PuroQueen]

There was no doubt that the martial artist was playing with fire. The referee was on her case like a hawk, and the crowd was stirring up a deafening storm of cheers and boos, only adding to the unruly chaos of the moment. The count seemed to go faster now, the referee obviously keen to end Kuroi's antics before things got too out of hand.

With an eye roll, Kuroi began dragging her opponent by the hair once more, leading her to the side of the ring before throwing her onto the apron with an ippon-seoi-nage - an over-the-shoulder arm drag that would hopefully leave Sheila reeling on the edge. If successful, Kuroi would then hop up onto the apron and give her opponent a harsh kick to push her further into the ring, before quickly swiveling to the corner and ascending up the turnbuckle.

Her bare feet balanced on the metal supports with a slight tremble, forcing her body to crouch down and grip the top ropes for support. She surveyed the ring below, her eyes flickering between the referee and her crumpled opponent. The official's vigilant gaze was fixed on her, ready to pounce at the slightest hint of a rule violation. She grumbled beneath her breath, suddenly surprised at herself for deciding to go the aerial route. Open mat fighting didn't provide many opportunities in the air, but this wasn't some underground martial arts pit, this was wrestling. And when in Rome...

"Get up, bitch!" Kuroi spat, her voice ringing out through the arena. "Your little boo-boo is staining the mat!" she snorted, pointing at the red drops dotting parts of the canvas.

Truth be told, Kuroi needed her opponent to get up. She wasn't confident enough to risk anything too acrobatic, but if Sheila was willing to get back up, maybe she could increase her chances of sticking the landing. Kuroi would bide her time, waving her hand in an upwards motion to goad her opponent into rising to her feet, the boos and jeers of the audience fading away in her focused mind. Kuroi would have to time things perfectly, for only if Sheila tried to get to her feet would she then attempt a well-planned but never-performed move by the martial artist - a flying Kamikaze Dropkick aimed straight into the blonde's pretty face!