Bengal vs. Betsy Lincoln - Red, White, and Blaze

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

The Faithbreaker worked perfectly. As Betsy slammed into the mat, her legs popped apart like a broken clothespin, freeing Bengal's neck. The Tiger rose to her feet, massaging the bruises on her throat as her opponent squirmed and wheezed beneath her. But Bengal knew that the All-American wouldn't stay down for long - not unless she did something to keep her there.

Bengal seized Betsy by the wrists, right above her gloves. She planted her foot in the other woman's ample cleavage, digging her heel into the solar plexus. Next, she began pulling her opponent up, as if lifting her into a sitting position. Then she drove her foot down, stomping Betsy repeatedly into the canvas while keeping her arms tightly trapped. The Tiger's limbs were burning from exertion, and she wasn't sure how long she could keep up her barrage. But she knew that every stomp she landed meant a little bit more wear on Betsy, and a better chance for a knockout victory!

[BlackAkuma]

Oooooooh, that sucked. Big time. After a hit like that, Betsy wasn’t going to be moving anytime soon. All she could do was lay there in pain, waiting for her opponent to come in and…

…wait, why wasn’t she going for the pin?

Oh, right. Betsy had almost forgotten what the rules of this match were, thanks in large part to the head trauma scrambling her neurons. The jury was still out on whether or not that was a good thing or a bad thing, though. On one hand, it meant she was still very much in this match. On the other, it also meant she had a lot more pain coming her way.

Pain that Bengal was more than happy to dish out. Betsy was just starting to recover when the woman moved in, seized her wrists, and proceeded to drive her heels into her chest, hammering her tits with a punishing precision. She gritted her teeth, doing her best to endure it, but there was little she could do to defend from a position like this - wide open, hurting, she was an easy target for her malicious opponent.

The worst she could do was throw out insult through the barrage, which she did. ”Oh, fuck! Fuck you, you little-”

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Bengal couldn't help but laugh at her opponent's futile insults. Even in a seemingly hopeless position, the American couldn't stop herself from trash-talking. She stomped on her opponent's chest a few more times, aiming the last blow between the other fighter's legs for good measure. Then she pulled Betsy to her feet, still keeping her wrists trapped. The blonde woman staggered slightly, but Bengal's support kept her upright. Not for long, however - not if the Tiger's next move went according to plan.

"Sorry, hun," Bengal purred smugly. "The only one getting fucked here...is you!" With that, she yanked her opponent toward her as she thrust one arm out perpendicular to her body, attempting to knock Betsy off her feet with a Ripcord Lariat!

[BlackAkuma]

Oh, god, the laughing. Betsy hated Bengal’s laugh. It was this grating, shrill noise that just made her want to rip her ears out.

Of course, being in the situation she was didn’t exactly help out Betsy’s tolerance of things, as she was very much dealing with a mudhole getting stomped into her ass. Each battering hit bounced her against the canvas, but she did her best to keep her mind focused, fighting through the pain to maintain some calm. She couldn't panic, couldn't lose her grip or else she was truly lost.

Her moment came when Bengal pulled her in, trying to finish her off with a Ripcord Lariat, a move that would’ve knocked the stuffing out of her. Betsy was too winded to dodge, but that didn’t mean she was out of ways to deal with the move - as Bengal pulled her, she jerked forward as well, trying to close the distance faster than her opponent would expect to slam their skulls together for a vicious headbutt.

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Just before Bengal could execute her Lariat, her opponent suddenly jerked toward her. There was a sharp crack of bone striking bone, and a flare of blinding pain erupted across the Tiger's face. She yelped and staggered backward, blood welling from a cut on her forehead and trickling from her battered nose - but somehow, miraculously, she didn't fall. Maybe her size had given her an advantage, or perhaps her firm grip on Betsy's arm had helped her to remain upright.

"Sneaky bitch," the Tiger hissed, pulling the American close into a Bear Hug. "You're gonna be sorry!" It was a pretty rich thing for Bengal to say, given her own history of underhanded tactics, but the Indian woman didn't seem bothered by the obvious hypocrisy. She cinched her arms tight, then began to rain down headbutts of her own, apparently unfazed by the damage she was taking in the process. A few members of the audience began to count along with the strikes - "ONE! TWO! THREE!" - but Bengal's furious movements were too quick to follow, and they soon lost track.

The onslaught seemed like it might go on forever, but finally Bengal eased up, panting hard, sweat beading on her dusky skin. Her face was streaked with blood, and crimson droplets stained her white hair - but her opponent looked to be in even worse shape. Trying to ignore the throbbing in her head and the blood stinging her eyes, the Tiger hoisted up the smaller woman, preparing to slam her down onto her back with a Spinebuster!

[BlackAkuma]

Bam.

Betsy’s world exploded as their skulls collided, her vision turning white for a blazing moment. She staggered back on wobbly feet, and it was only by a small miracle - or just plain stubbornness - that she didn’t fall flat on her ass after the impact. When the lights dimmed a moment later, she had her feet flat on the ground. Still hanging in there.

The same could be said for Bengal, though her opponent was a little redder than she had been a moment ago. It might not have been a big development, but it was one that brought a smile to her face. A shortlived one, sadly.

Betsy was just getting her bearings back when Bengal pulled her in tight, crushing her sides with a bearhug. That was far from the most pleasant thing, but what made it infinitely worse was what she brought along with it: Headbutts, and no shortage of them. Over and over and over, their skulls cracked against each other, until Betsy found herself hanging limp in the catwoman’s grasp.

At the end of it all, Betsy was a limp, bleeding mess, and she was barely even aware when Bengal lifted her up and sent her crashing into the canvas with a crushing spinebuster. She bounced up from the impact, flopped about, then came to a rest with her arms akimbo and her glassy eyes staring up at the ceiling.

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Bengal's head was still ringing from the headbutts, and the final spinebuster had left her so exhausted that she could barely get to her feet afterwards. She couldn't even summon the energy for another taunt. She just watched balefully, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, as the referee got down to check if Betsy was still conscious.

The official lifted the All-American's muscular arm by the wrist, before dropping it to the canvas. "One!" Was the Blaze Tiger about to win via knockout, or would her opponent make a surprise recovery?

[BlackAkuma]

Nope. Not yet. But not far from it.

After the referee’s hand came down a second time, Betsy managed to find some life, enough to keep it up all the way - but it was a weak wobbling hand. Could barely think, could barely move, and at this point she was going on autopilot. Her brain knew she was in the ring, so that meant she needed to be fighting. But where to direct that fight? She couldn't say.

All she knew was that she needed to move. Groggily, lazily, she tried to crawl towards the ropes, hoping to use them so she could get back up on her feet.

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Bengal pursed her lips with annoyance as Betsy suddenly jolted back into consciousness, raising her hand off the mat to break the referee's count. This girl just doesn't know when to quit, the Tiger thought to herself, shaking her head in disbelief. In her distracted state, it took her a moment to realize that the All-American had started crawling toward the corner, trying to create some distance.

"Hey, where're ya going?" Bengal called after her opponent. She began creeping up behind Betsy, following the trail of scarlet flecks left behind on the canvas from the blonde woman's injuries. "I didn't say you could leave," the Tiger continued in a singsong voice, drawing even with the other fighter. "This isn't over...until you're out cold!"

With that, she sprang onto the bottom rope for height, then drove the sole of her striped boot down onto the back of Betsy's neck in a devastating curb stomp! If the move landed, her opponent would be stomped into the mat face-first, aggravating the damage she'd already taken in that region. Fans in the front rows shouted and pointed, trying to warn the All-American about the approaching danger - but even if Betsy realized what was coming, it was unclear if she still had the mobility to do anything about it.

[BlackAkuma]

Just a little further, just a little further. The ropes were close now, and Betsy fought for every inch towards them. Almost, almost, and then…then…

Then what?

Betsy wasn’t sure what would come next. She wasn’t in good shape to fight; she wasn’t in any shape at all. She could scarcely defend herself, much less mount any sort of comeback, but she couldn't fight her instincts, couldn't stop fighting, even if-

Betsy’s eyes widened when she noticed that the crowd was directing her attention, and she turned towards the source of a nearby noise - far too late. All she could do was look up as Bengal’s foot came rushing down towards her, planted into her skull, rammed her head into the canvas and then…

…nothing.