Laxia von Roswell vs. Sheila Morgan - Lightning in a Bottle

[BlackAkuma]

Back home, with Outback Wrestling, Sheila’d often had these matches she liked to call ‘smokers’. Whenever someone new came in, they would put them to test one night, out of the blue. No cameras, no audience, off the books. Put them in the middle of the ring and just let anyone who wants to step up take a stab at them, see how far and how hard they were willing to go. See if they were worth the trouble of investing.

She could already tell that Laxia wouldn’t have lasted a day in that sort of environment. None of the killer instinct, none of the grit you needed to hang when things got tough. Maybe she would’ve done okay in a regular match, but Sheila was going to steamroll her if she brought this sort of energy to a No DQ brawl.

Sucked to be her. Sheila had no intention of slowing down, ever.

Off she went, flung away with the Irish Whip, with Sheila hot on her heels, her wild hair flying behind her. Sure enough, Laxia spun about to hit the turnbuckle, smacking into it with her back and giving her the perfect target. There was that face, begging for a knee to crash into it.

She leaped up, raised her leg and…

…and she was gone.

Sheila had precisely one second to realize her mistake before her knee smacked on the pad, hitting the patella clean. She bounced out of the corner, landed on her back, rolled over, and came down with one knee on the canvas while she rubbed the other, hissing as the pain ran its course. It was one of those nasty hits, too, the ones that felt like a shock was reverberating through her legs.

[Letta]

The moment Laxia wrenched herself out of the corner, a heavy impact rang out behind her. Still clutching the top rope, she staggered sideways before regaining her balance. Her back throbbed from striking the turnbuckles, while her face still stung from Sheila’s elbows. The pain in her abdomen flared anew with every ragged breath. Laxia turned her head.

The Wild One was no longer charging toward her. Sheila had rebounded from the corner and dropped to one knee on the canvas, clutching the other after driving it into the turnbuckle pad. Ordinarily, Laxia would have paused to fix her disheveled hair, steady her breathing, and carefully consider her next move. This time, however, her body seemed to know the answer before her mind did.

Making no effort to tidy her tangled hair, Laxia fixed Sheila with a gaze sharpened by intense focus. Her chest continued to rise and fall with each labored breath, but the hesitation that had gripped her moments earlier was gone. Laxia released the rope.

Her boots struck the canvas in rapid succession, propelling her forward. This time, she did not circle her opponent or waste another moment calculating her next move. Like a fencer lunging through an exposed opening, she accelerated in an instant and charged directly toward the kneeling blonde.

“Quite so. Let us begin.”

As Laxia reached Sheila’s side, she swept one arm around the woman’s head, wrapping it tightly and pulling her in against her side. With Sheila’s head firmly trapped in a headlock against the side of her chest, Laxia continued running away from the corner without sacrificing her speed.

As though determined to deny Sheila any chance to rise and resume her assault, Laxia took several more rapid strides before throwing herself forward. Bringing all her speed and body weight down with her, she drove Sheila toward the canvas with a running bulldog..!

Spoiler

[BlackAkuma]

One of the problems that came with being a hardcore wrestler was that injuries had a way of lingering. Sheila had accumulated so much damage over the years that, at any given time, she probably had several things on her body that really should’ve required medical attention, but had gone ignored. She was always healing from something.

She didn’t even remember exactly what happened to her knee in the first place, but whatever it was, it was coming back to haunt her after that missed hit. Nothing was broken, but it was a sharp, stinging pain that wasn’t going to go anywhere anytime soon. Certainly not before the match was over.

Fine, she could work through pain, and she had more pressing matters. She needed to keep the pressure on Laxia, and…

…ah, fuck.

Sheila pushed her way up just in time to find herself in Laxia’s path, as the woman came rushing her way. Her head was snagged, caught in a tight front facelock, the start of so many bad things.

She wouldn’t have to wait to long to figure out what it was, either. In the next moment, she was brought barreling out of the corner, pulled along for the ride, and had her face rudely introduced to the canvas at mach speed. None too pleasant.

She hit and stayed there for a moment, as she tried to shake it off and figure out exactly where things had gone awry.