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

[BlackAkuma]

Sheila’s body was strong, tough, had a great well of stamina to work with, but even she had her limits, and as she bounced around the ring at full speed, she could feel herself nearing them. Her heart pounded so hard it hurt, taxing her with every step, and she was honestly starting to feel like her body could give out at any moment. The blunt force trauma, the bleeding, the dehydration, the repeated pounding she’d taken for the past ten or so minutes - it was all starting to culminate. She was on empty.

But it wouldn’t matter. In a few seconds, she would hit Laxia with another bat-out-of-hell tope suicida,she’d bring her down, drag her into the ring, finish her off with a Kitchen Sink, and then it was goodnight, Irene.

Sheila dropped down, flew through the ropes and-

Pain.

No thought, no prelude, no other feelings. Sheila couldn't even properly process what happened to her at first, as if her mind wasn’t used to dealing with this sort of extreme stimulus like this. There was just this insane, impossible pain in her face, a red mist and a white flash, and then she was falling, and then she was on the floor while the crowd was roaring around her.

It was only after she was on the ground, curling into the fetal position, that it all came together. Laxia hit her with a chair in the face while she was midflight. She’d jumped right into it, probably taking it in the face at about thirty miles an hour. By all rights, she should be unconscious. She sort of wished she was.

All she could do now was moan and rub her face and feebly kick her legs, as she vainly tried to deal with a shattered face.