One for the Books: Bengal VS. Nix Severin (D)

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

As the referee's palm slapped down twice in quick succession, Bengal's triumphant grin grew steadily wider. Just when she felt that victory was certain, the canvas seemed to lurch underneath her, as if an earthquake was passing through the arena. But really, that sensation was the sheer force of Nix, thrusting her shoulder up from the mat!

Bengal somersaulted backward, before rising into a standing position once again. She eyed the official venomously, holding up three clawed fingers in front of his stern face. “THREE! That was THREE, ref! Learn to count!” she snarled, flecks of spit flying from her mouth. Not waiting for an answer, she turned to face her opponent, who had risen to her feet alongside the Tiger. That wouldn’t do, Bengal thought to herself. It was time to put Nix flat on her back, where she belonged!

“You’re overdue for a beating!” the Indian fighter growled, making the fans in the front row groan with yet another librarian gag. Bengal wasn’t focused on that, however. She was already aiming a precise knife-edge chop at the bridge of Nix’s nose, aiming to knock the rookie’s glasses right off her face! If she succeeded in disorienting her opponent, she’d follow up with a Sit-Out Facebuster, seizing two handfuls of the California girl’s long blonde hair to plant her onto the mat!

Sit-Out Facebuster

[Delalily]

Still dazed from her previous attack, Nix was unable to dodge Bengal’s chop connected with a sharp crack, knocking her glasses right off, the impact reverberating up Nix’s nose and sending a jolt of pain through her skull. The rookie staggered back, her vision blurring momentarily as she tried to shake off the stinging sensation. Before she could recover, Bengal seized her by the hair, yanking her forward with a vicious snarl. Nix’s body was driven face-first into the mat with a punishing Sit-Out Facebuster! The crowd winced at the impact as Nix's face bounced off the mat and she was laid out, facing the flashing lights.

Nix After the Facebuster

Bengal dropped quickly, attempting another pin attempt. The referee began the count. “One—” Before he could even finish, Nix’s shoulders shot off the mat, her legs twisting out of Bengal’s grip as she kicked out with surprising speed. The Blaze Tiger scowled, frustration flickering across her face as she rose to her feet.

Nix was already standing, her chest heaving but her gaze sharp and focused. She wiped a trickle of blood from her nose, staring directly at Bengal. “Your jokes,” she said, her voice calm but laced with a biting edge, “are about as bad as Troy’s. And trust me, that’s saying something.” Bengal blinked, caught off guard by the comment. Before she could retort, Nix added, “But just because your humor is weak doesn’t mean I’m going to take it easy on you.”

The crowd chuckled at the unexpected jab, and Bengal’s scowl deepened. She lunged forward, aiming another chop, but Nix caught her wrist mid-swing. The rookie’s grip was firm, her eyes locked onto Bengal’s.

Nix’s grip tightened around Bengal’s wrist, her fingers digging into the tiger’s arm with surprising strength. Before Bengal could react, the rookie twisted her body sharply, using Bengal’s momentum against her. In one fluid motion, Nix spun behind her opponent, her movements precise and calculated. With a quick shift of her weight, Nix pressed forward, driving Bengal down to the mat with a controlled yet forceful motion.

Bengal’s body hit the canvas hard, and before she could scramble away, Nix grabbed her leg, stepping over the shin with one leg and then dropping onto her, pinning her in place. Nix then wrapped arm her arm around Bengal's neck as her other hand locked it into place. She tightened the grip, intending to choke the life out of Bengal.

La Recherche du Temps Perdu!

The crowd roared as Nix leaned back, applying pressure to Bengal’s lower back and neck. The Blaze Tiger gritted her teeth, her muscles straining against the submission. She clawed at the mat, trying to find leverage, but Nix’s grip was unrelenting. Bengal’s breaths came in sharp, labored gasps as the pain radiated through her spine. She twisted and thrashed, her pride refusing to let her tap out so easily.

La Recherche du Temps Perdu

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Bengal’s eyes widened in panic as Nix cinched her submission tighter. The Blaze Tiger found her body being broken in multiple places at once, like ice shattering after a spring thaw. The rookie’s forearm throttled her windpipe, while her hip thrust into the small of Bengal’s back, bending her spine at an agonizing angle. The Indian fighter prided herself on her flexibility, but not even her daily yoga routines could have prepared her for this onslaught!

Jaw clenched with concentration, the trapped fighter began to claw her way towards the ropes, leaving deep gashes in the canvas with her sharpened nails. After a few seconds of struggle, however, she realized that she was wasting time and energy. This was a Falls Count Anywhere match, and rope breaks were no longer an option. If she wanted to escape her opponent’s grasp, she would have to resort to less dignified tactics.

As blackness began creeping in around the edges of her vision, Bengal began desperately craning her neck back, trying to catch Nix on the jaw with the top of her skull. At the same time, she thrust her left elbow repeatedly into her opponent’s midsection, bruising her exposed ribs. Hopefully, these distractions would allow her to adjust her position slightly, securing a grip on the rookie’s wrists. From there, she would slowly start to pry the other woman’s forearms apart, relieving the pressure on her throat.

Meanwhile, large sections of the arena seemed to have turned to the former librarian’s side. Chanting Nix’s name, they urged the younger fighter to keep La Recherche locked in, as long as she possibly could! Would their support be enough to help turn the tide?

[Delalily]

Nix steadied her breathing, her focus razor-sharp as she tightened her grip on Bengal’s neck. Her forearm pressed deeper into the Tiger’s throat, feeling the pulse beneath her skin quicken. Every instinct screamed at her to increase the pressure, to claim her victory here and now. But Nix wasn’t impulsive—she was methodical. Her time in the library had taught her patience, precision, and the value of understanding every move before executing it.

As Bengal thrashed beneath her, Nix adjusted her position slightly, planting her feet firmly on the mat for better leverage. She could feel the Blaze Tiger’s muscles straining, her efforts growing more desperate by the second. Nix leaned back, driving her hip harder into Bengal’s lower back, amplifying the pain.

Bengal’s elbow struck her ribs, but Nix barely flinched. Her focus remained on Bengal, on the way her body twisted and writhed, on the labored breaths escaping her lips.

Bengal’s skull grazed her jaw, but Nix barely registered it. She shifted her weight, countering her opponent’s movements without breaking her hold. Her forearm dug deeper into Bengal’s throat, her grip unrelenting. She could feel the Tiger’s strength ebbing, her struggles growing weaker. Just a little more, Nix thought, her eyes narrowing. Just a little more and this is over.

Her mind raced with possibilities, anticipating Bengal’s next move. She knew the Blaze Tiger was cunning, resourceful. But Nix had played this scenario out in her head a hundred times. She was ready for anything. Her grip tightened further, her breath steady, her resolve unshakable. This is my moment.

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Bengal’s slashes and strikes glanced off Nix’s pale skin, while her opponent remained as stoic and unflinching as a marble statue. The Indian fighter found herself flushing hot, as much from embarrassment as from the heat of the other woman’s body. Despite her best efforts, this novice wrestler had humbled her, outclassing her in strategy as well as strength. Wrapped up and wrung out in Nix’s taut arms, it was only a matter of moments before oblivion claimed her.

The only chance left to her was a gambit that even she considered shameful. Bengal might like to call herself a Tiger, but now, she was going to have to play possum. She shuddered in an exaggerated fashion, then went limp. Her breathing slowed, while her long eyelashes fluttered, lids closing over her glazed eyes. She tried her best to keep her body stock-still, even though her lungs were screaming for air.

Waiting in the suffocating darkness, her head growing light, she recited a silent prayer, hoping that her captor would release her prematurely. If she didn’t…well, at least Bengal wouldn’t be conscious for the rookie’s victory ceremony. Some of the wiser fans in the audience were shouting at Nix, telling her not to fall for it, to keep squeezing until the result was official, yet their voices were lost in the din of the crowd. The former librarian was certainly book-smart, but did she have the savvy to see through her opponent’s deception?

[Delalily]

Nix’s grip faltered as she noticed her opponent’s body go limp, her heart pounding with uncertainty. For a brief moment, she thought she had achieved victory, her eyes darting to the referee for confirmation. But Bengal’s stillness felt…off. Too sudden. Too perfect. Nix’s instincts screamed at her, a lingering doubt creeping into her mind. Still, she couldn't risk permanently injuring her opponent. Reluctantly, she released the hold, her arms aching from the exertion.

As Bengal’s body slumped to the mat, Nix straightened up, her back rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. The adrenaline surging through her veins made her feel both exhausted and electrified at the same time. She took a cautious step forward, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized her opponent. Bengal lay motionless, her face pale, her mouth barely breathing. The crowd’s cheers softened, replaced by a tense, breathless silence that seemed to stretch endlessly.

Nix hesitated, her instincts warring with her caution. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Bengal’s sudden stillness was too abrupt, too perfect. The Blaze Tiger was a veteran, cunning and resourceful—would she really go down so easily? She didn't seem the type to go down so easily. Nix’s mind raced, replaying the moments leading up to Bengal’s collapse. The submission had been tight, yes, but Bengal had fought back fiercely just moments before. Had she truly been subdued, or was this a ploy?

That singular moment of hesitation would be Nix's undoing.

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Bengal felt Nix’s bicep unclamp from her throat, and her heart thrilled with excitement. Still, she tried not to betray her true intentions, biding her time until the perfect moment. She let her body crumple to the mat, subtly turning her neck at the last second to avoid landing flat on her nose. Her lungs flooded with relief as fresh air washed through them, but she didn’t give herself away by breathing too deeply. She waited until the rookie had straightened up, while the referee bent down to lift the Tiger’s arm, checking for consciousness.

That was when Bengal sprang her sinister trap. She snapped her eyes open and twisted her wrist out of the ref’s hand, “accidentally” striking the official’s cheek in the process. As the referee recoiled in shock, the Indian fighter rolled over, bracing her back against the canvas. She drew up her knees like two coiled springs - then drove her right foot deep between Nix’s legs, taking advantage of her opponent’s straddling stance! All of this happened in a single, fluid motion, barely giving the blonde any time to react.

The crowd booed uproariously, protesting the blatant low blow. Unfortunately for them (and Nix) the referee had been distracted by Bengal’s trick, and hadn’t noticed. The Tiger followed up by twisting the California girl’s ankle, throwing her off balance, toppling her onto her hands and knees! Still clutching the trapped joint, she rose slowly to her feet with a manic grin plastered across her face, like some evil spirit clawing its way out of the grave.

“You know, I heard it’s bad for books to bend their spines the wrong way,” Bengal mused, craning her head over her shoulder to address her opponent. “You can tell me all about that!” Sticking her tongue out at the jeering crowd, she began to wrench back on the rookie’s leg, contorting Nix’s backbone with a vengeful Boston Crab!

Single-Leg Boston Crab

[Delalily]

Nix’s vision blurred as she struggled against the searing pain in her back and legs. Focus, she told herself, gritting her teeth against the agony. She could feel Bengal’s grip tightening, the pressure on her spine increasing with every passing second. The crowd’s boos echoed in her ears, but she blocked them out, concentrating on the rhythm of her breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Her body screamed for her to give up, to let the pain win, but her mind refused to surrender.

Summoning all the strength she had left, Nix twisted her trapped ankle sharply, using the momentum to roll her body to the side. Bengal released the grip in surprise, allowing Nix to scramble forward on her hands and knees. Her muscles trembled with exhaustion, but she forced herself to rise, her legs wobbling beneath her like a newborn fawn. She straightened her back slowly, every movement sending fresh waves of pain shooting through her battered body.

Standing upright, she swayed unsteadily, her fists clenching and unclenching as she tried to regain her composure. Her legs felt like gelatin, her spine throbbed, and her ribs ached with every breath, but she refused to collapse. I’m not done yet. These were the words she kept telling herself.

But resolve alone cannot rewrite what has already been set in motion. Even as she stood, stubborn and defiant, the outcome of this match loomed over her like the blade of a guillotine—inevitable and merciless. Bengal was already squaring up behind her, steady where she was shaking, unbroken where she was barely holding herself together. Nix could fight, she could endure, she could refuse to bow—but there are moments in life when strength is not enough, when the tide has turned too far to be forced back.

As she would soon find out, this was one of those moments.

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

After a lengthy battle, Nix managed to roll out of the submission, breaking the tension like a fish slipping loose from a hook. The Blaze Tiger didn’t seem overly bothered, however. Even if the Boston Crab hadn’t secured a victory, it had given her ample time to recover. While her opponent’s legs were quivering with exhaustion, Bengal had been gathering fresh strength in hers. Now, it was time to put all that power to use.

The plucky librarian was back on her feet, boots squeaking against the canvas as she spun to face her foe. Her blonde hair feathered out behind her, while her emerald eyes sparkled with defiance behind her glasses - but she’d turned a fraction of a second too slowly. Bengal was already setting up the Ambush Predator, her infamous Super Kick finisher! This bushwhack attack had knocked out many other unsuspecting fighters, most of them more experienced than Nix.

Bengal’s striped boot snapped upward at a sharp angle, aimed directly at the other woman’s jaw, moving too fast for the crowd to track. The Tiger had the element of surprise on her side - not to mention the grudge she’d built up during Nix’s torturous submission. If her kick hit its mark, the consequences could be devastating!

Ambush Predator

[Delalily]

In a flash, Bengal’s boot connected with Nix’s jaw in a brutal, echoing crack. The force of the impact reverberated through the woman’s skull, a searing wave of pain that radiated outward like ripples in a pond. Her vision blurred, the bright lights of the arena dissolving into streaks of color and shadow. Her legs buckled beneath her, strength draining from her muscles.

Nix’s body crumpled to the mat, her limbs flaying outward as she hit the canvas with a dull thud. The pain in her jaw was sharp, but it was quickly overshadowed by a creeping numbness spreading through her head. Her thoughts fragmented, scattering like pages torn from the books she failed to finish. She tried to fight back, to stand up, to do anything...but her body refused to obey.

I can’t… I can’t fall now. The thought clawed at the edges of her fading awareness, but it was no use. Her strength was gone, her body broken. The cold, unforgiving mat pressed against her back, a stark reminder of how far she had fallen—both literally and figuratively. She had fought with everything she had, pushed herself to the limit, but it hadn’t been enough. Not against Bengal. Not tonight.

As darkness crept in at the edges of her vision, Nix’s mind clung to one final, fleeting thought: This isn’t the end. It can’t be. But even as the thought formed, her consciousness slipped away, leaving her limp and motionless on the mat. Her defeat was written, the final chapter of her debut match closed with brutal finality. The crowd’s roar faded into silence as the lights above dimmed, and for Nixanne Severin, there was nothing left but darkness.

Nix Down And Out