A Comeback for the Ages: Raiken Kibao VS. Bengal (No DQ)

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Bengal planted her hands on the canvas behind her, beginning to arch backward into the Figure 8. Before she could complete the transition, however, something smashed into her knee with the force and speed of a sledgehammer. Her hands shot up instinctively to grab the injured joint, and she collapsed back to the mat, unable to complete the bridge.

But that was the least of her problems right now. Raiken's arm was already thrusting forward again, as the veteran unleashed another attack. This one landed on Bengal's hand, crushing her fingers. She flinched, drawing back her hand as if she'd just touched a hot stove, while Raiken continued to pound away at her knee uninterrupted.

This was no good, the Tiger thought to herself. Her knee was throbbing with pain, but she couldn't protect it without risking injury somewhere else. Her only option left was to break the Leg Lock, get some space, and then re-engage. These repeated blows had to be tiring Raiken out, especially given her age. Maybe that would help to create another opening.

The fact that Bengal actually believed that just showed how badly she'd underestimated her opponent. As she released her hold, Raiken predicted her movements perfectly, leaping toward the Tiger before the Indian woman could even draw up her feet. The scarlet markings on her elbow pad seemed to blur together as it streaked through the air, filling Bengal's view. Her eyes widened with shock, but it was already too late. Raiken's elbow caromed off her jaw, and her head snapped back as her vision abruptly flickered black.

When it cleared, she was lying on her back, arms spread-eagled. Her tongue poked past her lips tentatively, checking for any broken teeth. Miraculously, she didn't find them, though her mouth was filled with the iron taste of blood. As her eyes fluttered open, she saw something that made her shiver instinctively, in spite of her flushed, sweaty skin. Raiken was glaring down at her, her scarlet eyes wide and unblinking, like two rubies set into her head. The sight was so intimidating that Bengal almost forgot to breathe.

Calm down, she chided herself, as she drew her arms up into a guard. She's just an old woman...it's not like she's some monster... But even as she thought the words, she realized she had trouble believing them. Maybe that was why she suddenly couldn't stop her hands from shaking.

[TrixVii011]

Everything had gone according to plan. Striking her opponent’s limb had allowed Raiken to break free from the hold and punish her with full force. That elbow strike had been more effective than expected since the first thing Bengal did after taking the hit was grimace and instinctively check for damage in her mouth. But what followed let thing more clear, a sudden shift in her demeanor, a hesitation that looked dangerously close to fear, as if she’d just seen a ghost.

Raiken stared at her with a cold, unreadable gaze. The match was gaining momentum, but Bengal’s reaction threatened to disrupt its flow. Raiken could handle mockery, the spitting, being underestimated...but fear? Fear in the middle of a fight made her blood boil. It was an insult to the arena and to her.

-If you don’t get up, I’ll force you- she said, her voice calm and deadly, somewhere between a whisper and a command.

Without hesitation, Raiken stomped down on Bengal’s chest several times, "softening" her up, before yanking her up by the hair in a single swift motion. She dragged her toward the ropes and, with a surge of violence, launched her over the top rope, aiming to crash her down hard outside the ring. This wasn’t just a fight anymore, Raiken was about to turn this stipulation into a brutal lesson Bengal would never forget.

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Raiken's stomps easily broke through Bengal's quavering guard. The Tiger wheezed and whined like an old teakettle, as her opponent flattened her against the mat. Just when she thought the onslaught was never going to end, the Japanese woman yanked her up by the hair and began dragging her toward the ropes. Bengal dug in her heels and tries to pull away, but it felt like she was in a tug-of-war with a freight train. All her efforts to resist were completely useless. "N-no...don't..." she stammered, as if that would do any good.

The veteran soon reached the edge of the ring, then tossed Bengal over the top rope. The Tiger reached out desperately as she was hoisted up, trying to grab onto Raiken's singlet, her hair, anything - but her fingers closed on empty air. She plummeted to the concrete floor, landing on the back of her neck. Her body crumpled up like an accordion, legs bending over her head, before she flopped onto her side.

The referee raised a warning finger, starting to count her out. "One!" Bengal could barely hear him over the ringing in her ears, but she knew that she had to move fast. This was a No Disqualifications match, but not a Falls Count Anywhere one, so the count-out rule was still in effect. She only had until ten to get back in the ring. She pushed herself onto her hands and knees, before the pain in her back erupted again, and she collapsed. Now, I'm the one who can't get up, the Tiger thought, bitterly aware of the irony. The official continued counting: "Two! Three!"

Making a second attempt to rise, Bengal discovered that the pain in her back wasn't as bad if she only used her arms. She began clawing her way up the side of the apron, her legs dangling limply behind her. "Four!" Every muscle in her upper body was flexed and taut; the veins in her arms looked like they were about to pop from the strain. "Five!" She managed to hook the bottom rope with her fingers. A moment later, her hand closed around it. "Six!" She pulled herself to her feet, feeling her nipples chafe as her chest dragged against the apron. "Seven!" She was upright now, even if she was so dizzy she could barely see straight. "Eight! Nine!"

The instant before ten, Bengal rolled under the bottom rope. She lay spread-eagle on her back, panting like a cat in heat, the arena lights reflecting in her dark eyes. "Nyah...nyah..." she taunted Raiken, though she couldn't actually see her opponent from this position. "Can't get rid of me...that easy..." But for all her bravado, the Tiger seemed to be on her last legs. Her climb back into the ring had left her utterly exhausted, with no way to defend herself. If Raiken simply threw her out again, she wasn't sure she could make the return trip a second time. Of course, the veteran might have something even worse in store for her...

[TrixVii011]

Raiken had thrown her opponent out of the ring. Then, without wasting time, she slipped out the opposite side, quietly and carefully, making sure Bengal didn’t notice her movements. The referee’s count continued steadily as she knelt down and searched beneath the ring. She wasn’t looking for anything fancy, just something effective. And of course, the classic weapon of choice was right there, a metal chair. Predictable, maybe, but always useful.

Reentering the ring, Raiken discreetly placed the chair behind her, partially hidden from sight. If Bengal returned, it would be out of her view… assuming she even came back. But the seconds ticked by. The count went on. Raiken didn’t move to stop it. If Bengal had chosen to lose by count-out, that was her decision not Raiken’s responsibility.

Still, the thought irritated her. She wanted more. She had expected a real fight. And part of her was even considering continuing the punishment after the bell, just to make a point…

But then, just before the final count, Bengal reappeared, dragging herself back into the ring at the last second.

-Took your time- Raiken snapped in irritation.

Without delay, she yanked Bengal forward by the neck, pulling her into position for her next move. She dragged her closer to where the chair lay on the mat, setting her up to slam her down with a brutal DDT right onto the steel chair.

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Out of the frying pan, and into the fire. Bengal didn't have a chance to catch her breath before Raiken pulled the Tiger to her feet. The younger woman swayed like a thin stalk trembling in the wind, totally helpless. She couldn't even raise her arms to defend herself when her opponent grabbed her by the scruff of her neck. Bengal felt herself being pulled off her feet, and the world spun around her as she plummeted into a DDT! To her surprise, a chair lay directly beneath her, right in the impact zone. She hadn't seen Raiken retrieving it from underneath the ring.

The Tiger's head slammed into the metal surface, with a sound like a crashing gong. Her limbs splayed out on the canvas, wrists and ankles twitching briefly, then lying still. The front of the chair was stained with flecks of blood from a cut on Bengal's forehead, but she didn't move to treat it. To the eyes of the crowd, it looked like the Indian woman was knocked out cold. A few of them winced, forced to look away by Raiken's brutality. It was amazing how the veteran had managed to make the fans feel sympathetic for a career heel like Bengal, through her sheer dominance of the match.

[TrixVii011]

-Come on get up, damn it!- Raiken yelled with a voice filled with raw frustration.

She stood in front of Bengal’s laying body covering her with her shadow, fists clenched.

-I said get up!

Bengal didn’t. Raiken's eyes narrowed while her patience was running out. This wasn’t enough, she barely could experience the heat of the match, Bengal looked like a great rival and now she was the only one directing the whole thing. This was not done. Not yet.

Raiken crouched beside her and grabbed a fistful of her opponent’s hair, yanking her up with a grunt. Bengal’s body slumped and sagged in her grasp, dead weight, but Raiken didn’t care. She hauled her to her feet with sheer force, muscle straining, anger fueling every motion.

-Aaaah! Raiken screamed due to the inmense effort of forcing Bengal into her feet.

Raiken shifted her stance, wrapping her arms tightly around Bengal’s waist. It was time to "wake her up" with one of her signature moves, her triple suplex called "The head of the pack" With a roar, she lifted Bengal up and slammed her into the mat with the first suplex. The ring shook. Still holding on, she twisted her hips and dragged Bengal’s limp form up again. The second suplex came harder, cleaner, and more violent. The audience gasped.

Raiken enjoyed the pain that lifting Bengal up bring, her body was at its limit but she decided to do that move and she needed to end it. Raiken rolled through once more, dragging Bengal up for the third and final lift, her legs shaking slightly under the effort as she landed a big and botched third supplex, falling to the mat sweating and breathing heavily.

-Fuck...-whispered, feeling ashamed for how that third suplex ended.

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Bengal couldn't respond to Raiken's repeated demands to "get up". She could barely hear the other woman's words in her dazed state, though her opponent's disdainful tone remained clear. All she could do was heave out a single, surprised breath, as the veteran lifted her into a series of suplexes, taking her on an all-expenses-paid, long-distance tour of the ring - whether she wanted to, or not. The Tiger felt her scalp prickle with tension as Raiken yanked on her hair, maneuvering her into position for the first throw. WHAM! The impact turned Bengal's arms and legs to jelly, leaving her unable to resist the follow-up. BAM! The outside world dissolved into a haze of pain and jeering fans, as her eyes rolled back into her skull.

And yet, when it came to the third suplex, even Bengal could tell that something was wrong. Raiken had botched the landing, taking the brunt of the impact on her own brawny shoulders, while the Tiger rolled away relatively unscathed. Was this the Indian woman's chance for a shocking reversal? She certainly hoped that was the case. Bengal kipped back onto her feet, propelled by a last-ditch rush of adrenaline. "Old fossils like you...belong in the dirt!" she panted, swinging her clawed fingers like an executioner's axe, as she advanced on her opponent. Against all odds, the Tiger was using all her remaining energy to perform her Blaze Barrage finisher! Her scything nails flicked out eagerly, aimed directly at Raiken's chest!

[TrixVii011]

Raiken’s chest heaved as she pushed herself upright, her breath coming in short. The botched suplex still rang through her mind as a distasteful memory. She clenched her teeth, annoyed.

-Fuck!… I used to hit those without even breaking a sweat- she punished herself.

Her moment of reflection was cut short when she caught Bengal’s shadow closing in. The Tiger was moving fast, Raiken surely was not expecting that. There was no time to brace, no time to fully block.

As the first kick landed low right on Raiken’s knee. Pain shot up her leg, forcing her stance to falter. Then, almost instantly, Bengal’s claws tore across her chest, hot lines of pain blooming instantly through the skin beneath. A second rake sliced across her face, making her vision blur and her head whip to the side.She staggered back as the final blow was approaching. Bengal’s knee rocketed up and smashed into her face with a loud CRACK.

Raiken’s head snapped back, the world spinning violently out of control. Her legs gave out, and she hit the canvas hard. Flat on her back, her chest rising and falling, Raiken stared at the lights overhead. They seemed to swirl and drift apart in strange patterns. She could feel the crowd’s noise, but it was distant, muffled, like hearing it underwater.

For the first time in a long while, she felt… disoriented.

And she loved it.

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Bengal performed her Blaze Barrage flawlessly, flowing like quicksilver from one motion to another. The rake of her fingers across Raiken's hot skin, the CRACK of her knee against the veteran's cheekbone - all of it felt exquisite. The finisher was even more satisfying to land because of the way she'd been pushed to the edge before getting to use it, she reflected. The Tiger normally liked to target weaker enemies, but maybe it was time to reevaluate that. This moment made her feel so much more alive than beating on some helpless jobber. She continued her assault, until the Japanese woman lay spread-eagle beneath her. Finally, she finished off the combo with a crushing Banzai Drop, pinning Raiken to the canvas beneath her rear.

"See you in the history books, honey!" Bengal chirped. She tousled the other woman's spiky hair teasingly, as the referee dropped down to begin the count. "One!" Bengal hooked her opponent's leg and leaned back in a bodybuilder's pose, confident in her victory. As she did so, she was somewhat disconcerted to see that Raiken appeared to be...smiling? That had to be an unconscious reaction, the Tiger figured. Just random neurons, rattling around inside her opponent's skull from the impact. The old timer probably wasn't even aware of what she was doing. No one would actually be smiling after taking her Blaze Barrage. No one sane, anyway...

[TrixVii011]

Raiken heard the referee’s voice begin the count. On her, Bengal was grinning with smug confidence, leaning into the pin as if already savoring the victory. That look,the hunger for the win, the arrogance....all sparked something deep inside Raiken. For a brief, thrilling moment, she felt a surge of energy pulse through her battered body. Maybe, just maybe, her debut match was going to have the intensity worthy of her name.

Two!

Snapping out of her thoughts, Raiken exploded into motion. She wrenched her body free, breaking the pin with sudden, violent force, shoving Bengal off her with almost any effort. Without hesitation, she rolled backward and planted her palms on the mat, using her core strength to kick up into a swift move that brought her to her feet in one smooth motion.

-For a second, I thought you were a coward… Get up! I’m want to keep fighting!- she yelled, with a sharp and commanding voice.

Dropping into a low crouch, Raiken’s eyes locked on her opponent like a predator. She waited for the perfect moment to strike. And when that opening happens, she would explode forward, driving into Bengal with raw power. Her arms would search to be wrapped tightly around her opponent’s frame, and with every ounce of momentum from her charge, she would lift her through the air and slam her brutally onto the canvas with a running powerslam.