Kuroi Kamakaze vs. Sheila Morgan - Chaotic Elements

[BlackAkuma]

Sheila really wanted to bite Kuroi right now. Just open her mouth and take a big bite on her neck, show the bitch what she thought of all this bullshit she was pulling. The only problem was that, with the referee standing there, looking over them and waiting for the fight to get back into the ring, there was no way she would get away with it.

Unlike Kuroi, who was getting away with everything. Damn it.

Sheila kept muttering under her breath, all the way up until the moment her opponent sent her flying onto the ring apron, letting her land, spine-first, on the hardest part of the ring. A kick in the side came soon after, and the Wild One was left to roll over towards the center of the ring, coming to a rest on her chest and laying there as a lifeless husk.

In the distance, all around her, she could hear the crowd surging, getting behind her and egging her on. They’d been half and half up to this point, but after Kuroi’s blatant cheating, they were coming down firmly in her camp. Fan support was nice and all, but being frank, she couldn't have given less of a shit. She didn’t need support, she needed to get up and end this bitch.

But first, she needed to see her, and that was becoming a bit of a problem, what with all the blood in her eyes. She could hear the woman calling out to her, but she was having trouble drawing a bead on her, even as she tried to stand up. All she could do was make out vague shapes, like the referee standing nearby, the seething mass of the crowd, and some object soaring towards her at high speeds…

Sheila couldn't be sure what Kuroi hit her with, but it had a serious impact, enough to knock her clean off her feet and send her flat on her back, then over her chest, then flat on her back again, coming to a stop just short of the corner. A moment passed before she planted her fist on the mat and made another attempt at rising. A groggy, slow attempt, with a pool of blood gathering below her head.

[PuroQueen]

A loud smack reverberated throughout the arena as Kuroi's flying dropkick made direct contact with Sheila's face. The impact was far from one-sided, however, as Kuroi's body came tumbling downwards in a manner she had failed to anticipate. She landed awkwardly on her tailbone, and a sharp pain ran up her spine. Kuroi hissed and clutched at her lower back, but her grimace was soon alleviated by the sight of Sheila's body flopping lifelessly all the way to the other side of the ring.

She wasn't sure if she'd be taking to the ropes again anytime soon, but god, that view definitely made it worthwhile.

Kuroi smirked as she slowly picked herself up, watching Sheila from afar as she struggled to do the same. This was exactly where she wanted her opponent - weak, disoriented, and at her mercy. The sight of Sheila's bloodied face brought back a tingle in her taste buds: the tang of Sheila's blood was still pungent in her mouth - she could taste victory, and it was sweet.

She strode over towards her opponent, pacing back and forth in front of the girl as she tried to get back to her feet, eventually managing to push herself up with her hands and onto her knees. Kuroi laughed - it was almost too easy to keep her down, planting her foot in Sheila's face and shoving her back down to the mat each time she tried.

"You're pathetic, Sheila, fucking pathetic," Kuroi taunted, circling her opponent like a predator toying with its prey. "I thought you were supposed to be the Wild One, huh? You look more like a wounded animal to me," Kamikaze taunted, making sure that every time she tried to rise, the martial artist was there, pushing her back down towards the mat.

"You know what your problem is?" Kuroi continued, planting another dismissive push kick to her opponent's face. "It's simple, really - you're just not that good. Sure, you got some hits here and there, I'll give you that... but where's the skill, where's the technique, huh?" Her foot slapped against Sheila's jaw, Kuroi intent on humiliating the blonde just as much as she was keeping her down. "You think just because you throw yourself across a ring that makes you a fighter!? You're just a second-rate brawler at best, one who should be very thankful she's still breathing right now," a lethal tone overtook Kuroi's voice as she spat down at her opponent. "Do you have any idea what I could do to you if it weren't for this cunt? Do you!?" Kuroi scoffed, motioning with her head towards the glaring referee. "Let's just say, you wouldn't be pretty for very long." A deviant giggle slipped through Kuroi's lips as she temporarily seized her incessant kicking, but her intentions were far from merciful.

Reeling her leg back, Kuroi prepared the crowd for a crude end to her monologue. Taking aim, Kuroi would soon take a single step forward before sending her foot shooting forward, hoping to land a brutal punt kick into her opponent's injured face!

[BlackAkuma]

Bloodied, beaten, broken, things were looking bad for Sheila, and you could feel the mood shift in the arena. Her Japanese was still crap, but she could hear the announcers nearby, going on about how she was finished, how this was such a dominant debut for Kuroi, how there was going to be another loss on her record, et cetera, et cetera. Counting her out already, because they’d never seen her this battered before. Never seen her like this before. This had to be the end, right?

Wrong. It had been a while, sure, but Sheila used to live in this sort of hell for her matches. She could still go, could still fight, and there was no way she was going to let a mouthy know-nothing bitch like Kuroi get the better of her. Shewas going to get up, she was going to throw hands, and she was going to ruin this woman’s day.

Just as soon as she could find her.

The blood kept seeping into her eyes, defying her attempts to wipe it away, and it was clouding her vision. She tried to see through the haze, but everything was so blurry. Couldn't see a damn thing.

But she could still hear just fine, and Kuroi’s spiteful words came through loud and clear. Each taunt gave her a better idea of the woman’s position, painting a vivid picture of where she was standing. The kicks made it even easier, with each telling her exactly where her opponent was standing, giving her all the information she could ask for. It wasn’t perfect, but as the crimson fog started to lift, it all came together.

When Kuroi came in for the kick, Sheila threw her body to the side at the last second, falling on her back and letting it sail past. When her opponent spun around, she popped back up to her feet, turned around, caught Kuroi in a three-quarter facelock, and dropped down to a hard sit, ramming her opponent’s face against her shoulder with a stunner - her finisher, the Kitchen Sink.

[PuroQueen]

It had taken a bit of underhandedness to get to this point, something that Kuroi likely wouldn't be admitting anytime soon. But either way, she was savoring every moment of Sheila's suffering. She had her opponent right where she wanted her, beaten and bloodied at her feet. The crowd was roaring, mostly with boos, with a small contingent of hoots and hollers, but people in both camps fully anticipated Kuroi to deliver the cruel, finishing blow.

More than happy to oblige, Kuroi swung her leg forward... except the rewarding sound of Sheila's skull shattering into a million pieces was replaced by the disappointing woosh of open air. Kuroi immediately recognized what had happened, quickly pivoted back around, and geared her leg back for yet another crushing kick.

To the surprise of nearly everyone in the crowd, Sheila had managed to react just a little faster, popping up to her feet and locking in her three-quarter facelock before Kuroi could tell what was what.

Kuroi's world exploded in pain. Her head snapped back, and she felt the impact reverberate its way to her very core. She stumbled backward, trying to regain her balance, but her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the mat. She could feel the blood rushing to her head, and her vision started to darken. She couldn't believe, hell, she couldn't even understand what had just happened.

The crowd was in a frenzy, cheering and screaming at the top of their lungs. Kuroi could barely hear them over the ringing in her ears. She tried to shake it off, to get back to her feet, but her body wouldn't obey. Every movement was agony. She was completely helpless.

[BlackAkuma]

Somewhere along the line, Sheila blacked out.

It wasn’t for long, maybe a second or two at the most, but somewhere between the moment she locked in the move and came crashing down, she went unconscious for a flash. A combination of the blood loss, the sudden drop, and just having the shit beat out of her for five minutes straight. It all came down on her at once, and left her laying beside her laid opponent, splayed like two children making snow angels.

Sheila came back to life with a sudden jolt, jerking upright and reaching for the first thing she could get her hands on, which just so happened to be the referee’s shirt. She pulled her in and rubbed her face against it, clearing her eyes and utterly freaking out the official in the process.

”Thanks.” Sheila pushed the referee - who was still shrieking up a storm at the bloody faceprint on her shirt - then looked over shoulder to see Kuroi. Unmoving, defenseless, vulnerable Kuroi. She could’ve gone for a pin, and there was a good chance it would work, but that wasn’t what she was interested in at the moment.

No, she wanted payback. Big time payback.

Sheila crawled over Kuroi’s body, sat down on her lap, grabbed her top to yank her up with one hand, then started raining down punches in the woman’s face with the other, letting loose with shot after shot, blasting her straight in the jaw, the nose, the forehead, wherever her fist could reach.

Nothing fancy. She was a simple woman with simple tastes.

[PuroQueen]

Combat was a fast-paced affair; Kuroi had learned that much the first time she had stepped on the mats as a little kid, but even this defied belief. In mere fractions of a second, Kuroi had gone from dominating, dismantling, and destroying her opponent to now reeling and gasping on the sweat-slickened mat. What, the actual, fuck?

It wasn't long until Sheila came marching over, her face masked by smeared blood and grime. Kuroi's eyes glanced towards the grossed-out ref, the goody two-shoed cunt still reeling with disgust over her blood-stained shirt. The sight was kind of funny actually, exactly the kind of thing Kuroi would have done had the situation been reversed, but surprisingly, Kuroi was in no mood for a giggle, and what came next certainly was no laughing matter. Sheila quickly straddled Kuroi's body, eyes locked onto each other with her fist briefly suspended up above her.

"Wha-" Kuroi barely had time to utter a syllable before the pummeling began. Unrefined, unfiltered, raw fists rained down on Kuroi's face, her once slick and smug expression instantly transformed into one of agony. She couldn't even open her mouth to breathe, let alone scream; each time she did, Sheila's fist was there to crack it back closed again. The pain diffused throughout her body, her athletic frame bouncing lifelessly against the canvas after each and every single brutal barrage. Each strike felt like a wrecking ball to her already battered and bruised form. Was her nose broken? Probably. Was her jaw shattered? Not outside the realm of possibility. Sheila was giving her absolutely no chance to process the damage, each hit coming in before she even had a chance to fully feel the one before it.

Where the fuck was this strength coming from? But before the thought had even fully crossed her mind, Kuroi already knew the answer to it.

Hate. Pure, unbridled hate. It was the same weapon she had used to win a match or two back in the day, but in Sheila's hands, it was downright lethal. As Kuroi's head jerked with every hit, her thoughts were consumed by a mixture of vile rage with a twinge of fear. Sheila's punches were the physical manifestation of her anger, her frustration, her sheer desire to destroy Kuroi in every way possible.

The crowd's cheers had turned to jeers, taunting her and reveling in her distraught. Kuroi wanted to scream, to fight back, to make Sheila pay for what she was doing to her. But she couldn't. Every movement brought a fresh wave of pain, leaving her in a daze of agony. All Kuroi could do was endure, gritting her teeth as Sheila's punches continued to rain down upon her. She knew that she was being humiliated, and the thought filled her with brewing hate of her own.

[BlackAkuma]

Just keep punching. Don’t stop punching. Punch and punch and punch and punch.

Sheila brought her fist down with wild abandon, letting all go on Kuroi’s face. And her cheeks. And the side of her head. She might’ve hit the shoulder a few times. Some punches landed on the canvas, she was sure.

She didn’t much care about her form at the moment. All she wanted to do was ball her fist and ram it into her opponent at damaging speeds, and the technique of it didn’t much matter, so long as it happened often and with serious impact. Curses slipped out between her animalistic grunts, but none of it was truly coherent, just a garbled mess, a parody of the human voice that grew worse with every strike she landed.

She had a dim awareness of the referee’s protests nearby, demanding that she put a stop to the assault and back off, and that was the only thing keeping her from going off the deep end. As much as she hurt, as much as she wanted to rip Kuroi to shreds and scatter her to the winds, she wasn’t about to lose this match on a technicality. No, this was getting finished, no other way.

Sheila stood up and dragged Kuroi along with her, getting her up and shoving her head in under arm with a facelock. She planted her feet down, lifted her opponent up off the mat…and dropped her back down, as her body gave up halfway through, lacking the energy to finish even the simplest suplex known to wrestling. She’d expended too much energy in that last burst, and now she was on the verge.

Didn’t mean she was out of options, though.

Sheila sucked in a lungful of air and tried to lift Kuroi up again. She couldn't get her more than halfway again, but instead of letting her fall back down, she turned around and dropped her opponent on the ropes, using them to bounce her back up, over and down with a slingshot suplex.

[PuroQueen]

Every time Sheila's fists made contact with her face, the world seemed to go dark, and her ears rang with a high-pitched whine. She couldn't see much of anything, couldn't hear anything coherent, but she could feel. Oh, could she feel.

The pain that coursed through her every time she was slammed into the mat was beyond anything she'd ever experienced. Her opponent swung wildy and with little precision, but what she lacked in accuracy, she infinitely made up for in raw power. How could something so crude be so painfully? Kuroi had been so focused on putting her opponent down as effectively as possible, flying kicks, flashy combos, the whole heartless warrior shtick, only to forgot how surprisingly effect the basics were. And oh boy, Sheila was more than eager to remind her. Her body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending screaming in agony. She tried to fight back, tried to retaliate in some way, but she was too exhausted, too beaten down. All she could do was take the blows and pray for it to be over soon.

And then, suddenly, it was... only to be replaced by even more torment! Sheila wrangled in her head, and tried to lift her up for a suplex, but her body couldn't take it. Kuroi's heart leapt with hope - this was it, maybe if she could just regain a fraction of her wits before Sheila, maybe she could - no, Sheila was lifting her up again, and this time, Kuroi felt a sudden sense of weightlessness as she was thrown into the ropes.

It all happened so fast - the impact with the ropes, the bounce back, the sudden lift and drop. Kuroi didn't have time to brace herself for the final slingshot suplex, and when her body slammed into the mat, everything went black. She lay there for a few moments, unable to move, unable to think, before slowly starting to come to with a large gasp.

"GAARGH!" Kuroi sputtered, her eyes twitching with unexplainable temper, blood trickling down her nose and mixing with the sweat on her face.

Kuroi's hands clutched the base of her back and head, the points of impact throbbing in a way that basically confirmed she'd be feeling the effects of this match for weeks to come, but for now, all she could do was lay there and try to catch her breath. Her vision blurred as she writhed and squirmed on the canvas, muttering a string of obscenities that were unintelligible to all but herself. She couldn't tell if the crowd's jeers were getting louder, or if she had just procured permanent tinnitus from the monumental impact. The pain was overwhelming, radiating from her face and spreading throughout her entire body to her toes.

But through it all, there was a spark of defiance that burned within her. Kuroi refused to go down like this, to let Sheila have the satisfaction of a complete victory. She tired to push up off the mat, gritting her teeth against the pain. "I'll kill you bitch... I'll...I'll fucking kill you!" Kuroi wheezed, the raspy growl of her voice doing little to filter the unbridled rage in her words, before she ultimately collapsed back down to the mat again.

[BlackAkuma]

Even with the rope’s help, getting Kuroi up for the suplex took some monumental effort, pushing Sheila’s body to the limits, straining her back muscles, and the impact itself wasn’t all that pleasant, either. While the move no doubt hurt her opponent more than it did herself, coming down with all that weight still knocked out a good deal of breath clean out of her, and she was left lying there, gasping as she tried to deal with all the accumulated pain.

It sucked. Truly. But when she looked over and saw that Kuroi was hurting even more? That made it all worth it.

”Having fun over there?” Sheila had a grunting laugh as she sat up and planted her hand on the mat for support. ”Looks like your back’s fucked up. Maybe try yoga.”

As much as she would’ve loved to sit around and make fun of Kuroi, she knew that there wasn’t any time to play around. The woman was down, but that wouldn’t mean shit if she couldn't close the deal, and her body was teetering on the edge, her vision was fading, she was coming in and out of reality. She needed to end this with a big play, and she had just the thing in mind.

Sheila rolled over to her chest and crawled to the corner on her hands and knees, only getting up to her feet when she had the pads to support her weight. She gripped the ropes tight and used them to scale her way up, up, up to the top rope, where she spun about and took position, perching like an eagle, waiting to strike.

Ready. Aim. Fire.

Sheila only took a moment to assess the distance and get everything right before she threw herself off the turnbuckle in a wild dive towards Kuroi, soaring through the air without a care for gravity. She fell down like a lawn dart, and waited until the last second before she whipped her body about in a full flip, attempting to drop her full weight onto her opponent with a Swanton Bomb - or, as she called it, the Crash Course.

[PuroQueen]

With every labored breath, Kuroi's pain intensified. The suplex had taken its toll, and as she lay there struggling to catch her breath, she could feel the agony pulsing through her body. She knew she was in trouble, and the thought of losing to Sheila only made it worse.

Kuroi looked up at her opponent and winced at Sheila's taunts. "Keep talkin' while you can bitch," Kuroi hissed, spittle flying out her mouth as she spoke, " 'cause pretty soon, I'm gonna... I'm gonna rip your tongue out, and shove it up your fuckin - GAGH, FUCK!" the martial artist screamed, her backs muscles locking up and spasming as she attempting to get back up to her feet. She wasn't kidding, Kuroi really had fucked up her back.

Shit shit shit! Kuroi mentally screamed to herself. This was bad, really fucking bad. She couldn't even get halfway up, and Sheila was already making her way to the corner of the ring. Kuroi's heart pounded hard against her chest as she watched her opponent begin to climb up to the top rope, her body too paralyzed to prepare itself for what she knew was coming next. If she couldn't get her body back under control quick, there was a pretty good chance she was going to be spending the night of her debut in LAW's medical facilities, with doctors trying to realign her spine back into place.

Funnily enough, Sheila's advice popped into mind. Kuroi was rather familiar with one of the central tenants of yoga: Breathing.

She flopped back onto the mat, teeth clenched as she took slow measured intakes of air through her nose. Sheila was taking her sweet time climbing the ropes, no doubt contending with pain of her own, but Kuroi used every second to absorb oxygen morsel by morsel, modicums of energy reentering her veins with every breath.

In...and out...in...and out...

Yeah, that's it. Suddenly the arena lights, once blinding and white, became blocked out by the airborne form of rival. Sheila had taken flight, her body tumbling through the air with the same callous disregard for self that Kuroi had come to associate with the Wild One. In...and out...in...and...ROLL!

Kuroi tucked her body to the side, pushing through the ache of her muscles as she whipped laterally across the mat, attempting to toss herself far away from her opponent's landing zone!