Post by hawkeye on Feb 10, 2019 17:26:57 GMT
“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one--” The speakers interrupted the Announcer with a single low, warbling note. Alongside it came the fog and an eerie ‘whooshing’ noise that meant the Silk Strangler was too close for comfort. This realization was quite fresh when fog flooded the stage. It crept from beneath the ring and lapped at the feet of those in the first several rows. When it was almost too thick to see through, the lights faded out and Seven Devils rose in their place.
SEVEN DEVILS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=RLkGKkfmgjU
Holy water cannot help you now
A thousand armies couldn't keep me out
I don't want your money
I don't want your crown
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
United by the chills running down their backs, the FAWNatics kept a silent vigil assisted by several low spotlights that made the murk flicker and glow. But seeing The Gray was little more than a minor victory. Laying eyes on the lurker therein, that was a challenge indeed.
Holy water cannot help you now
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
And no rivers and no lakes can put the fire out
I'm gonna raise the stakes, I'm gonna smoke you out
A single spotlight hit the stage in time with the first chorus and there stood a tall figure in a hooded, storm gray cloak. For a moment it was still, then a hand encased in a dark red leather glove reached up and pulled the cowl back to reveal a pale skinned woman with dark eyes and a tangle of long, coppery locks.
HELENA GRAYLOCK:
Finding his voice now that the Gray Lady was in sight, the Announcer sputtered, “The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a twenty minute time limit and it is for the FAWN Intercontinental Championship! Introducing first, representing the Church of Eternal Midnight, hailing from Crythin Gifford, England in the United Kingdom, she stands at five feet eight inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred and forty pounds, she is the Whisperer in Darkness… HELENA GRAYLOCK!”
Finally breaking her repose, Helena shrugged the cloak from her shoulders and started down the aisle. The Gray made it quite trying to make out all the details at once, but who stared long enough learned more than they wanted. Tonight Our Lady of the Mists wore a dark gray one-piece with a wine red sash belted at the waist. Fans on the aisle thought they saw knee-high gray boots and matching elbow pads and it turned out they did, but these details weren’t confirmed until the mysterious Englishwoman climbed from the fog on the nearly obscured steel steps.
Gripping the top rope in her right hand, Graylock walked from one end of the apron to the other, the leather of her glove making and unpleasant ‘squeeeeeaaaak’ against the rubber-coated steel. Then she climbed over the ropes and went to the middle of the ring where Al Carpenter joined her shortly thereafter. “Ok, Helena. Lemme see the glo--”
Graylock darted that hand toward his face only to stop an inch or two short. Reserved enough to refrain from smiling when the official darted back, the redhead stayed stock still until Al had checked her pads and boots. “Umh, thanks.” the ref said. “Go to the far corner and await the opening be--” The Silk Strangler spun on her heel and glided away, leaving Carpenter to breathe a sigh of relief that ended as soon as the Announcer continued his spiel.
“And introducing her opponent, hailing from Jackson, Tennessee she stands at five feet ten inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred and forty-eight pounds, she is the Tennessee Terror, the Witch of Razorback Holler and the current FAWN Intercontinental Champion, this is HARLEY JO COLLINS!”
SHINE DOWN:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xACHH5-QwY
HARLEY JO COLLINS:
Accompanied by Godsmack, some Fireball and the pretty little trinket she’d taken from a mean ’ol pixie back at Mania, Harley Jo Collins herownself strode through the curtain and raised the leather and gold with one hand. Nodding her thanks at the round of applause, the Countrycidal Maniac toasted the belt with her libation, then took a long swig before heading down the ramp. As per usual her pre-match armor remained the same regardless of the weather, a pair of ancient denim overalls that’d accompanied her to no less than six continents.
Careful to keep her head on a swivel in case Miranda or any other zealots were lurking close by, Harley Jo only turned her attention to the redhead when she put a hand to her shoulder and undid the clasps on the overalls, leaving them in a puddle at her feet. Stripped to the essentials, she wore a black fightin’ rumble-kini, white pads and plain black boots. From there she slid under the bottom rope, pushed to her feet and strode to the middle of the ring to raise the belt one more time. It could’ve been a paperweight for all the attention Graylock gave it, the Briton’s gaze never once left Collins’. HJC held it, silently daring Helena to blink while Carpenter went through one more inspection. Intrigued by the utter lack of reaction from her foe, Harley Jo slung the belt to Al, then turned around and slowly strolled to the far corner to await the bell.
Harley Jo Collins tended to keep a fairly neutral expression on her face between the bells (didn’t want anyone to know what she was thinkin’, ya understand?) but the IC Champ couldn’t keep a smile off her face as she started toward her latest challenger. Helena Graylock on the other hand did not smile, though the astute observer might’ve noted the barest hint of amusement brushed across the enigmatic Englishwoman’s features.
“So glad to finally make your acquaintance.” Collins called as Helena closed in. “Ever since I started this open challenge business I’d been hoping to see you step through that cur--”
Graylock sent that leather-sheathed left hand out in an Uppercut Thrust that would’ve closed the brunette’s throat then and there if the Tennessee Terror hadn’t crouched low at exactly the right moment. This allowed her to land three equally quick body blows to Helena’s midsection, but the Gray Lady only frowned and THWHUMPED a huge Overhand Forearm Smash across her opponent’s shoulders. Already low, the heavy shot dropped Collins to one knee amidst a round surprised murmurs from the crowd. Collecting a huge handful of dark hair immediately thereafter, Helena wrenched the heathen’s head back and murmured, “Those who actively seek The Gray often find far more than they bargained for, Harley Jo CollUUUNNNGGGGHHHH!”
Harley caught the redhead around the upper thighs and shot up on tiptoe only to come down on her knees to THAWHAM Graylock against the deck with something that was equal parts Spinebuster and Double Leg Takedown! More than happy to unleash the heavy ordinance early and often, HJC climbed into a mount, grabbed hold of the Churchgoer’s coppery braid and pounded away on her forehead and hairline with a series of straight right hands!
Al noted the infraction but held his tongue for the time being to see if Collins would switch to open hands of her own accord. She did not, however Carpenter didn’t say so much as a word because Helena put a stop to it herself by clamping an Iron Claw across the champion’s mouth and nose! The smother brought Collins’ pugilistic efforts to a grinding halt, but the Witch of Razorback Holler didn’t panic like so many of the Briton’s previous victims. Steadying her breathing as much as possible (not the easiest task with Graylock bearing down on the lower half of her face) Harley Jo wrapped one hand around her attacker’s wrist and the other around her throat. Graylock’s eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed in concentration as she redoubled her efforts to snuff the big brunette’s candle.
“All right, enough of that strangle crap!” Carpenter barked after only a few seconds. “Harley, get off her throat! Helena, get off her face!”
Helena only squeezed harder, the powerful redhead obviously enjoying the resistance from such spirited prey. “My grip is perfectly legal, arbiter.” she grunted around Collins’ choke. “This wretch is the only one breaking your archaic AAARRRRRHHHHH!”
Harley had no luck prizing Graylock’s mitt from her mug, so she wormed her thumb under the bottom edge of that damned glove and jammed it deep into the redhead’s wrist. Helena’s hand flew open like magic, not that Collins got any time to appreciate her trick because the angry zealot turned her head to the side with a viciously brisk backhand. “I would not have expected such desperation so early in our encounter.” Helena grunted after she’d torn Collins’ grip away from her own neck. “But perhaps you’re not as eager to find The Gray as you thought you NNNNGGGHHH!”
HJC tagged her with an answering slap from underneath, then popped her hips to toss the other Destroyer out of the mount. Scrambling atop the Southerner before Collins could get away, Graylock snatched a handful of hair to BWUNK Harley Jo’s head against the thinly-sheathed plywood, then stretched her left hand wide and reached do-- Harley lunged up to meet the encroaching digits and sank her teeth into the soft flesh between thumb and index finger. The leather absorbed the worst those heathen fangs could do, but Graylock didn’t appreciate the useless resistance nor did she much care for the Ear Ringer Collins CLAPPED against the right side of her skull!
The shot to the ear made Helena rear back without actually breaking the mount, so Harley Jo kicked her legs up, hooked them beneath the other wrestler’s biceps and pulled her down with a Destroyer-sized Sunset Flip… or rather Sunset Somersault, because the redhead rolled through the counter to come up on one knee a short distance from her target. The Vicious Volunteer twisted onto one knee as well, leaving champion and challenger to regard one another in tense silence for several seconds. Eventually Helena rose to her full height and backed away to make a few minor adjustments to her distended glove.
Collins joined her in verticality, the rangy brunette using this brief lull to flick her trunks into place. “Watch where you’re sticking that glove, darlin’.” Harley warned the opposition. “Push me too far and I might just make you eat it.”
Helena tilted her head to one side, a cold little smirk on her face. “I won’t push you anywhere, little one. I will however drag you kicking and screaming into The Gray. That is what you want, is it not? A suitably valiant end to this otherwise doomed crusade of yours?”
“Your boss is the one to ask about doomed Crusades.” Collins replied. “She’s got plenty of experience in that arena.”
“Miranda isn’t my boss, little one.” Helena sniffed. “She merely provided an opportunity to feed more deserving warriors to my blessed Gr--”
Harley Jo hit the Englishwoman with a Collar & Elbow Lock-Up so aggressive that it knocked Graylock back several paces before she dug in her heels. Quick to stuff a hand under Helena’s chin in retaliation for earlier smothers, the Tennessee Terror yanked on her rival’s braid just because she could and grunted, “You can knock off the spooky Hammer double feature bullshyt, darlin’. It might scare the norms, it don’t scare EERRRGGGHHHH!”
Helena answered with a hair-pull of her own as well as a rough pie-face that twisted the IC champ’s head at an unpleasant angle. Carpenter called out both wrestlers on the hair-pull but they made no effort to end it and he didn’t get a chance to repeat himself because they started bulling one another around the squared circle! Control proved easy to grab but much harder to maintain: Harley would force Helena back by three, maybe four steps, then the redhead would twist her hips to send both women skidding along the ropes until they hit a corner and Collins would march ‘em back out into the center again.
This erratic zig-zagging went on for more than fifteen seconds and might’ve continued unabated if Harley Jo hadn’t cupped Helena’s cheeks and pressed in to ‘smoosh’ her elegant features in a fish face that was anything but. The challenger’s situation grew all the more worrisome when HJC shifted that hand to slide her middle and ring fingers into the redhead’s mouth, under her tongue in particular. “Why do you look so surprised, darlin’?” Collins muttered to the wide-eyed Briton as she pressed her thumb into the underside of Helena’s chin. “You ain’t the only one that knows a thing or two about snuffin’ candles. And ‘Liza Bliss ain’t the only one who’s mastered this holMMMMHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Graylock answered with another Palm Smother, the Churchgoer just grrrrrrrriiiiinding her leather-armored hand against the lower half of the champion’s face! Determined to stand firm against her adversary, brunette and redhead made no effort to escape their attacker’s grasp, rather they leaned into one another and put their considerable strength into making the other yield to her pitiless grip.
Al didn’t much care for the pink flush creeping into his charges’ features, alas there wasn’t much he could do when the condition was inflicted by perfectly legal holds. Keeping as close to the action as he dared, the ref’s attention darted back and forth between both women in case one should start to show signs of “OOFFH!” Harley Jo’s butt shot backward when Graylock spiked a Kneelift into the plank of the Englishwoman’s midsection just above her navel. Eyes narrowed to angry slots, Collins steadied her footing, bore down on the Mandible Claw a little harder and tested Helena’s abdominal resolve with an equally spiteful Kneelift. The Gray Lady endured it with a gurgled growl, then fired off a second Kneelift. The Tennessee Terror’s nod was almost imperceptible, but Graylock and Carpenter interpreted it correctly.
Challenge accepted.
What followed was a short but furious exchange of belly blows, the sort of callous one for one exchange that typified the most mean-spirited of Clinch Fights. Now the inclusion of claws Iron and Mandible made it anything but a typical Clinch Fight, in fact the FAWNatics were starting to murmur in concern, wondering just how long each wrestler could resist the might of her foe’s combined-- Helena used the Palm Smother to force the Southerner’s head back at a sharp angle, thus exposing her throat for the vile stiff-fingered strike she jabbed into it a heartbeat later! Collins coughed, her knees shimmied and the Mandible Claw loosened enough for Graylock to spit it out within a second or two.
“I can already feel you sinking into the mire, little one.” the redhead growled as she continued to deny the champion air. “Perhaps you aren’t the worthy warm-up I thought you’d EERRRHH BYTCH!”
With no grip to occupy her idle hands, Harley Jo did some devil’s work in the form of a thumb gouged into her opponent’s right eye! Tearing Graylock’s goddamned mitt away from her face within seconds of the tawdry counter, HJC wrapped a death-grip around Helena’s thumb and tried to snap it clean off her hand! “What’re you sayin’ about worthy, sugar? I didn’t hear you the first time, I was too busy trying to break your f*cking fingNNNNGGGHHH!”
Graylock palmed her opponent’s skull in both hands, all the better to keep Collins steady when she THUNKED a Headbutt into the bridge of her nose. The Vicious Volunteer shoved Helena away, though the effort of doing so almost made her take an awkward knee. “The standard backwood savagery won’t work on me, Collins.” she growled. “So dig deep into that snake-pit that passes for your soul and muster something stronger or--”
BIG BOOT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xfTd3hbjyoo
Harley Jo THWHACKED her across the cheek with a standing Big Boot that sent the startled Brit backpedaling into the strands! Already crouched in anticipation of Graylock’s return, Collins was thinking Gutbuster when Helena hooked her arms over the top rope and held fast.
Eying Harley Jo balefully, she pressed a thumb to one canine and wiggled it a bit before curling her upper lip in disgust. “Heathen slattern! You chipped my tooth!”
“Jeeze Helena, it’s not loose, is it?” Al asked in the midst of slipping on a pair of rubber gloves. “Here, let me check it WHOOOOAAAAHHH!”
Helena intercepted Carpenter’s approach with a hand to the chest and would’ve shoved him into the Witch of Razorback Holler if HJC hadn’t caught him under the arms. Collins shooed him away at once, all in all her efforts cost her no more than two seconds off the clock, yet it was still more than enough for the copper-haired killer of Crythin Gifford. Shooting off the ropes while Harley Jo was otherwise occupied, Graylock planted / spun on her left heel and whipped her right leg up at a near perfect forty-five degrees to THWHAP a beautiful Heel Kick off the brunette’s jaw.
HEEL KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-KrnUA5SSWo
Harley went down flat though her legs shot up straight, if only for a second. “What was with that shyt, Helena?” Al shouted. “I should disqualify you right now!”
“Spare me the righteous indignation.” Graylock sniffed. “You won’t do anything for fear of offending those spectacle hungry executives in the back. Nor would you wish to deny all of these heathens their beloved bread and circuses. And lest we forget the woman gaping on the canvas…” Helena strolled over, raised a foot and casually stamped down on Collins’ belly once, twice, three times! “You certainly don’t have the wherewithal to risk drawing her ire, do you, Algernon Carpenter? Unfortunately for you I want nothing more than the full force of this miserable savage’s venom.”
Neither Harley or Al mustered a response to that tirade, so the Gray Lady bent down, plunged a hand into the former’s dark hair and scraped her off the mat. Collins was in no mood to endure the redhead’s touch and she made her displeasure known with a few quick punches to the belly, but Helena snuffed those with a quick Shoulderblock to the IC champ’s sternum. This allowed for an easy transition into a Wristlock which she used to hurl Harley Jo into the nearest corner. And hurl was the appropriate word, as the power behind Graylock’s toss put the redhead down on her belly whereas poor Collins didn’t even get a chance to turn around before she BWUUUNGED chest-first into the top turnbuckle.
That awkward collision drew a murmur of concern from those assembled, but they didn’t actually cry out until Helena rushed in and THAWHUMPED every bit of her hundred and forty-plus pounds against the Countrycidal Maniac’s back with a huge Avalanche Splash! Throwing one arm over the ropes to keep from losing her balance, Collins somehow found the energy to throw an elbow over her shoulder, unfortunately the blow just grazed Graylock’s noggin and she retaliated by bouncing her forehead off the top buckle half a dozen times. Ending the barrage only because she heard Carpenter hurrying over to piss and moan, Helena pulled her prey back a few steps, then wedged her head under the brunette’s left arm and wrapped her right arm around Collins’ waist. From there she muscled HJC onto the point of her shoulder just so she could return to the corner and set her down on the top turnbuckle.
A few hard Forearm Smashes across the lower back ensured Collins wasn’t going anywhere before she grabbed a handful of hair and turned a quarter circle so she could pull the tenderized Terror across her shoulders in a Torture Rack! The crowd groaned in sympathetic anguish as Collins’ lanky frame was bent across the Englishwoman’s strong shoulders, though several noted that Graylock made no demands for surrender as she stomped to the middle of the ring.
Regardless, Al followed along to check on the champion’s condition. “What do you say, Harley Jo? Need me to call for the--” Helena twisted to the right, swinging Collins’ long legs in an arc that almost caught the tall ref upside the head! The Brit snapped back a second later, using the momentum to sling Harley off her shoulders so she could catch a Reverse Chinlock and lay out on her back to THAWHAM the Vicious Volunteer into the deck with an Argentine Neckbreaker!
ARGENTINE NECKBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZuWRpw6zZe0
Harley Jo bounced to a seat with both crisscrossed over the back of her head. She was still trying to clear the cobwebs when Helena tore those protecting arms away so she could help herself to a handful of hair. Dropping to her tush stretched Collins out on her back and allowed Graylock to thread her legs around the American’s head. “The Gray calls for you, Harley Jo Collins. It demands your presence!” Helena exclaimed as she curled her left leg under Harley’s chin and hooked her right leg over that exposed ankle to really bear down on the Figure Four Headscissors. “So fight to the bitter end if you must, it makes no difference to me.” With that she braced both hands against the mat and hoisted her butt off the mat to add that much more pressure to the already crushing constriction.
HEADSCISSORS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_LmCH80YLu0
“What do you say, Harley?” Carpenter asked once the Headscissors were in place for perhaps ten seconds with no sign of escape from the champion. “Need me to call it?”
Collins couldn’t shake her head ‘no’ so she flipped him off to make her position clear. Helena saw this, smirked and raised her hips while sending another slow, crushing pulse through her thighs. “A paltry showing if ever there was one.” the Briton sniffed. “The arbiter is an idiot, true, but he only wishes to make your transition into The Gray as painless as possib--” Graylock grimaced in pain and annoyance as the trapped brunette palmed the top of her thighs and dug in with white-knuckled relish.
“Nuuuhhh… nothing painless about losin’ a fight, darlin’.” she grunted. “As I’ll be happy to demonstrate shortNNGGGHH!”
Helena pounded a Hammer Punch down into the bridge of Collins’ nose, then grabbed hold of her wrists and prized them away from her stems. “Nothing you know is worth learning, Harley Jo Collins. However I will be happy to use your passage into The Gray as a teaching aid of sorts. Let your insensate burbling serve as a cautionary tale to those who would defy the will of Eternal Midnight.”
Jaw clenched as Graylock’s thighs continued to grind and pulse, the Vicious Volunteer set her feet flat against the mat and began inching her way backward. Helena was so focused on the gathering Gray that she didn’t notice the pinning predicament until Al dropped down beside her and counted off…
ONE…
TWO…
The Englishwoman pumped her hips to send Collins shooting back to start, HJC’s tush THUMPING against the canvas in a miniature Keester Bounce. “Clearly the view of the lights has made you insolent.” she snapped. “Therefore a preview of your destination is an order.” Helena rolled onto her stomach, forcing Harley Jo to do the same. Giving up her Wristlocks to brace both hands against the mat, she pushed up and squeeeeeeeeeeeezed until Collins was kicking her feet in breathless anguish! “Don’t waste your breath.” she said to Al, who looked like he was about to query Collins once more. “I have no interest in releasing our outmatched champion until she’s sunk deep into The-- WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”
Always more willing to show than tell, the Witch of Razorback Holler clambered to all fours and scooted forward until she made it to one knee. In a poor position to stop Collins’ progress, Graylock continued to pour power into the Headscissors, yet it wasn’t enough to keep Harley Jo from slooooooooowly returning to verticality with the surprised redhead seated atop her shoulders!
Infuriated by this insolence (not to mention the cheers from the FAWNatics) Helena filled her hands with HJC’s hair and-- “WHOOOAAHHH ARRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHH!” Collins tore Graylock’s hands from her tresses at the cost of several strands, then tucked those greedy claws beneath her armpits and clamped down to keep them wedged between her biceps and torso. In the next instant she laid claim to Helena’s ankles, wrenched them apart and bounced in place, not to throw the Brit from her perch, but to send her tumbling down the champion’s back in an improvised Gory Special!
GORY SPECIAL:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4J5KA5ykTtU
Finding the energy to smile once she felt the back of Graylock’s head swishing against her tush, Harley Jo Collins herownself pullllllllled down on her prey’s ankles and went through several deep knee bends to exacerbate the pressure on Helena’s knees and spine. “You ain’t the only one that can play submission games, sugar.” Harley taunted once her own breathing had returned to normal. “You ready to give it up or can I have the pleasure of showing you off to the crowd a little while longer?”
“Not on your life, little one.” Helena sneered. “This is nothing more than an inconvenience, the sort of useless hope that will make your subsequent destruction all the more satisfyNOOOOO!”
Collins began to spin in place, a technique she’d learned from Olivia Dare, of all people. Doing so turned the already painful predicament into a nauseating twist on the Airplane Spin, one that made Graylock squeeze her eyes closed to ward off the worst of the dizziness. Slowing the ride only when her own equilibrium started to suffer, Harley steadied her footing and pulled on Helena’s legs even harder than before. “Still trapped, bytch.” the Tennessee Terror noted. “Give up in the next few seconds and you might be able to leave this ring without Miranda and the others having to teleport your pasty ass to safety.”
“Your words are as spineless as your offense.” Graylock snapped. “Enjoy both while you can, for I’ll end both far sooner than you’d li--”
Harley pointed herself at a corner on the far side of the ring and took off toward it with Helena jostling along like the world’s biggest, gloomiest backpack. She covered the distance in remarkably short order, only slowing her pace from a few steps out so she could whip around and BAWUUUNG her opponent’s taut-stretched belly into the roughly-padded steel of the top turnbuckle! Helena let out a wail the likes of which those assembled hadn’t heard pass her lips since the depths of her war with Morgan Kinloch almost three years prior. Well and truly gutshot by the wicked bit of offensive innovation, Graylock couldn’t do more than gasp and retch as Collins tromped back to the center of the squared circle.
“Gettin’ tired of lugging your ass around, Graylock.” Harley grunted, the strain evident in her tone. “But I’m not quite ready to put ya down just yet.” The Gray Lady offered no reply and that was fine with HJC, she didn’t need any comments from the peanut gallery while she labored to muscle Helena up out of the Gory Special and into a breathless Fireman’s Carry across her shoulders. Nodding her satisfaction with this new arrangement, the Countrycidal Maniac put one hand on the challenger’s knee and the other on her throat. From there she earned another loud round of applause by muscling her fellow Destroyer high overhead in a Military Press! T’was an impressive sight for the crowd and an equally impressive view for Graylock, though neither got to appreciate their respective vantages for more than a few heartbeats because Collins promptly sank to one knee and THWHUMPED Helena down tummy-first atop the posted joint!
ROCKY TOP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=0mJetOPuTuc
Graylock bounced away from the gut-churning, went down on one knee and immediately rolled to a seat to better wrap both arms around her roiled midsection. Harley noted all this was a predator’s practiced eye, the Southerner hesitating just long enough to get a bead on Graylock’s position before she ran the ropes dead ahead and came back to THWHACK a Basement Big Boot between the Briton’s eyes! Helena went down flat but slopped onto her belly immediately thereafter, thus costing Collins precious time to roll the redhead back over before she bundled her up in Back Press good for…
BASEMENT BIG BOOT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=EzONmOnqCfA
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
The powerful Churchgoer forced her way free with half a second to spare in a show of tenacity that seemed to irritate everyone but the Intercontinental Champion. “You had yourself a pretty nice time trying to squeeze my head offa my shoulders.” Harley Jo admitted as she used the redhead’s braid to drag her to a seat. “So I hope you don’t take it too personal if I smile when your ribs start to give out.”
“Duuuuhhhh… do your worst.” Graylock muttered. “It only strengthens my resOOOOUUUUGGGGHHHH!”
BODYSCISSORS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-zjwRwTsxd4
The Witch of Razorback Holler did just that, securing her legs around Helena’s midsection for a Bodyscissors that had the other woman doubled over in breathless hurt within seconds. Hands flat against the deck, Collins boosted her way up and continued to squeeze, those long, dangerous stems stymieing Wainright’s chief enforcer like no previous adversary had ever managed. As surprised as the rest of the crowd to see such strain stamped across the Englishwoman’s features, Al hunkered down by the action and asked, “What do you say, Helena? Need me to call for the bell?”
“Don’t waste my time with such idiocy.” Graylock grumbled. “It insults us bothhhheerrrrrggghhhhh!”
“Don’t be so hard on the man, he’s just trying to keep you safe.” Harley Jo teased as her latest constriction sent a shudder through the seated zealot. “Lord knows you need someone to help out, you’re sure not getting the job done by OOOFFFHH!”
Helena jabbed an elbow into the Southerner’s tummy, then tacked on another for good measure. The second put Collins’ butt back on the mat and loosened the Scissors enough for Graylock to palm the IC champ’s knees. She didn’t push her way out though. Rather she pressed down on Harley Jo’s stems so she could slowly turn around to face the Tennessee Terror. Set on her knees by the time she arrived, Helena reared back and CRAAACKED a rough Knife-Edge Chop across her opponent’s chest. “Your control of the situation lasts only so long as I wish it.” the redhead explained. “You dangle by a thread above The Gray and will join it at my leisUNGH NGH!”
HJC bore down on the Scissors and followed it with a stiff slap that clapped off Helena’s cheek. “So you’re in control, are you, darlin’?” Collins was having none of the Briton’s crap. “Then you might want to cut me loose before--”
Helena clouted the brunette’s chest with a heavy Forearm Smash, then leaned in and wrapped both arms around Collins’ long midsection for a Bear Hug. “Escape is no option for you, heathen.” the Gray Lady explained to the trapped champion. “Resignation is the only hope of easing your passage into HUUURRRK!”
The Witch of Razorback Holler wedged a Mandible Claw into Helena’s mouth and clamped down until her knuckles showed white. “I’m not going anywhere, Graylock.” Harley Jo groaned. “You however are UUUGGGGHHHH!”
Helena didn’t just put more power into the Bear Hug, she shifted to one knee and slowly returned to verticality while still mired in the Bodyscissors / Mandible Claw combination! Not quite sure who he should check with first considering there were three different submission holds currently in play, Carpenter played it safe by saying, “How are you doing, ladies? Everyone WHOAH!” Helena whipped toward the sound of his voice, forcing the official to dive backward so he wasn’t caught by Harley Jo’s legs. In this he was successful, alas Al hadn’t counted on the challenger rushing the ropes immediately thereafter, thus forcing the ref to backpedal until-- the crowd groaned in sympathetic hurt when Al and his two charges hit the strands and just kept going, Helena’s forward momentum spilling them through the strands to land on the thinly-padded concrete floor.
The return to solid ground wasn’t pleasurable for anyone, but Carpenter got the worst of it, considering that he played crash-pad to both champion and challenger. Speaking of whom, Harley Jo and Helena bounced away from one another on impact and rolled, then crawled in different directions to create some much needed separation.
Helena’s head bumped into something hard and the Churchgoer swatted it aside, creating the awkward, cringe-inducing clatter that only comes from a steel chair or three. Still working the kinks from her throbbing jaw, Graylock leaned back on her haunches and realized she’d disturbed the store of chairs beside the Timekeeper’s table. A backward glance showed her nothing but the sprawl of Al Carpenter and the broad, defenseless expanse of Collins’ back.
“I tend to prefer a… gentler… path to The Gray for my adversaries.” Helena said softly. “But for those that respond to nothing but mindless brute force…” the Englishwoman picked up one of those discarded chairs and got to her feet amidst a raucous chorus of boos from the sold out crowd.
Down at the other end of that narrow aisle, Harley Jo noted the commotion but was too focused on her aching ribs and lower back to actually check into it. Probably a good thing she didn’t because the Vicious Volunteer would’ve had to watch Helena Graylock stalking her way, the Destroyer-class redhead slamming that commandeered chair against the floor with a loud bang before she raised it high overhead and-- another roar from the FAWNatics, this one far more pleased than its predecessor. Helena barely registered it before the chair was pulled from her hands with a single swift tug! Incensed by this intrusion, Helena whirled in a half circle, her gloved hand already drawn back to seek “OOOOFFFFHHH!”
Becky Clayton stuffed the rounded edge of the chair into Graylock’s navel, doubling her over in a single stroke. Delighted but far from satisfied by the sight of her gutted rival, the Camouflage Crusher hoisted the chair into the rafters and BWAAANGED it down across Helena’s defenseless shoulders! The Gray Lady reared up, spun away from her attacker and BWAAANG! Becky caught her a third time, a veritable home run swing to the back that finally put Miranda’s muscle on the mat in a facedown sprawl.
Tossing the weapon aside after a quick inspection for dents, Clayton stomped over to Graylock, collected her by trunks and tresses, then scraped her off the floor. “This is just the first receipt.” Bex growled in the Brit’s ear. “The next comes when you actually have the guts to meet me in the ring.”
Helena grunted something meaningless, so the Courtier stuffed her under the bottom rope.
“Don’t recall asking for any help with this one, darlin’.”
Clayton turned in the direction of that drawling voice and found herself almost nose to nose with the Countrycidal Maniac. “No you did not.” she replied. “Which is why I’m not expecting a thank you. But you’re still welcome.”
Becky started to leave only to stop dead when Collins grabbed her arm. “You and I made peace a long time ago, dog face.” the IC champ murmured. “Be a real shame to throw that all away by encroaching on my business.”
“You want to fight, Harley? You know where to find me. Now get your damned hand off me and finish the match.”
Harley Jo squeezed a little tighter, then did as bade. “Been a pleasure, Rebecca.” Dismissing her as quickly as that, the leggy brunette turned her attention to Al, who’d just now made it to all fours. “C’mon Carpenter, action’s shifted indoors again.” She hooked an arm around his waist, hauled him up and deposited him back in the ring with a little more reverence than Becky had shown Helena.
With the zebra and her challenger thus returned to the squared circle, HJC slid under the bottom rope, got up and padded over to Helena just as the redhead was starting to stir. “Can’t lie, I ain’t happy with how we got here.” Collins told the Churchgoer as she reeled her into a Standing Headscissors. “But regardless of the path, the destination remains the same. Not that I’d mind if you came back for seconds. I’ve enjoyed whipping your ass.”
Give the devil her due, Graylock tried to prize her way loose from the Southerner’s trap, but those efforts came to an abrupt end when Collins butterflied her arms with a snug Double Underhook. Harley Jo took a deep breath to gather her strength, then dipped her knees and muscled Helena up until the tips of her toes were pointed at the rafters. Over the roar of the crowd she slung Graylock down and laid out on her back, Collins drawing her knees up to her chest so the Briton THWHUMPED down full force on the bony joints! The Gray Lady bounced away, rolling onto her back in a slow motion sprawl that resumed normal speed when the Vicious Volunteer bundled both legs and folded her in half for a Back Press. She’d worried about Carpenter being out of position, thankfully those fears were laid to rest when the rattled but very much awake referee crawled over and counted…
ACE OF SPADES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZrshSobqt1M
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Harley tossed the redhead’s legs aside, rolled to one knee and held an index finger overhead while the Announcer called, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall and STILL the FAWN Intercontinental Champion… HARLEY JO COLLINS!”
Making it to her feet with a low groan, the weary brunette trudged over to the ropes so she could accept the IC strap from a FAWN tech. “Not a big fan of the kindness of strangers.” Collins told the camera as she hoisted the belt overhead. “And I sure as hell don’t need the kindness of the Black Court. But considering what Miranda’s flock has gotten away with as of late I suppose the occasional bit of unfairness in my favor shouldn’t be frowned upon.” She paused, glanced over to the motionless form of one Helena Graylock. “Still. You’ve got every reason to be sore, so I’ll make you a deal. Sort out your shyt with dogface and the rest of Emily’s chess pieces. Once that’s settled, you come find me and we can finish what we started.”
No answer from either the Gray Lady or the other members of her sect, so Harley Jo slung the belt over her shoulder and exited the ring in search of a well deserved post-fight drink.
SEVEN DEVILS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=RLkGKkfmgjU
Holy water cannot help you now
A thousand armies couldn't keep me out
I don't want your money
I don't want your crown
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
United by the chills running down their backs, the FAWNatics kept a silent vigil assisted by several low spotlights that made the murk flicker and glow. But seeing The Gray was little more than a minor victory. Laying eyes on the lurker therein, that was a challenge indeed.
Holy water cannot help you now
See I've come to burn your kingdom down
And no rivers and no lakes can put the fire out
I'm gonna raise the stakes, I'm gonna smoke you out
A single spotlight hit the stage in time with the first chorus and there stood a tall figure in a hooded, storm gray cloak. For a moment it was still, then a hand encased in a dark red leather glove reached up and pulled the cowl back to reveal a pale skinned woman with dark eyes and a tangle of long, coppery locks.
HELENA GRAYLOCK:
Finding his voice now that the Gray Lady was in sight, the Announcer sputtered, “The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a twenty minute time limit and it is for the FAWN Intercontinental Championship! Introducing first, representing the Church of Eternal Midnight, hailing from Crythin Gifford, England in the United Kingdom, she stands at five feet eight inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred and forty pounds, she is the Whisperer in Darkness… HELENA GRAYLOCK!”
Finally breaking her repose, Helena shrugged the cloak from her shoulders and started down the aisle. The Gray made it quite trying to make out all the details at once, but who stared long enough learned more than they wanted. Tonight Our Lady of the Mists wore a dark gray one-piece with a wine red sash belted at the waist. Fans on the aisle thought they saw knee-high gray boots and matching elbow pads and it turned out they did, but these details weren’t confirmed until the mysterious Englishwoman climbed from the fog on the nearly obscured steel steps.
Gripping the top rope in her right hand, Graylock walked from one end of the apron to the other, the leather of her glove making and unpleasant ‘squeeeeeaaaak’ against the rubber-coated steel. Then she climbed over the ropes and went to the middle of the ring where Al Carpenter joined her shortly thereafter. “Ok, Helena. Lemme see the glo--”
Graylock darted that hand toward his face only to stop an inch or two short. Reserved enough to refrain from smiling when the official darted back, the redhead stayed stock still until Al had checked her pads and boots. “Umh, thanks.” the ref said. “Go to the far corner and await the opening be--” The Silk Strangler spun on her heel and glided away, leaving Carpenter to breathe a sigh of relief that ended as soon as the Announcer continued his spiel.
“And introducing her opponent, hailing from Jackson, Tennessee she stands at five feet ten inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred and forty-eight pounds, she is the Tennessee Terror, the Witch of Razorback Holler and the current FAWN Intercontinental Champion, this is HARLEY JO COLLINS!”
SHINE DOWN:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xACHH5-QwY
HARLEY JO COLLINS:
Accompanied by Godsmack, some Fireball and the pretty little trinket she’d taken from a mean ’ol pixie back at Mania, Harley Jo Collins herownself strode through the curtain and raised the leather and gold with one hand. Nodding her thanks at the round of applause, the Countrycidal Maniac toasted the belt with her libation, then took a long swig before heading down the ramp. As per usual her pre-match armor remained the same regardless of the weather, a pair of ancient denim overalls that’d accompanied her to no less than six continents.
Careful to keep her head on a swivel in case Miranda or any other zealots were lurking close by, Harley Jo only turned her attention to the redhead when she put a hand to her shoulder and undid the clasps on the overalls, leaving them in a puddle at her feet. Stripped to the essentials, she wore a black fightin’ rumble-kini, white pads and plain black boots. From there she slid under the bottom rope, pushed to her feet and strode to the middle of the ring to raise the belt one more time. It could’ve been a paperweight for all the attention Graylock gave it, the Briton’s gaze never once left Collins’. HJC held it, silently daring Helena to blink while Carpenter went through one more inspection. Intrigued by the utter lack of reaction from her foe, Harley Jo slung the belt to Al, then turned around and slowly strolled to the far corner to await the bell.
Harley Jo Collins tended to keep a fairly neutral expression on her face between the bells (didn’t want anyone to know what she was thinkin’, ya understand?) but the IC Champ couldn’t keep a smile off her face as she started toward her latest challenger. Helena Graylock on the other hand did not smile, though the astute observer might’ve noted the barest hint of amusement brushed across the enigmatic Englishwoman’s features.
“So glad to finally make your acquaintance.” Collins called as Helena closed in. “Ever since I started this open challenge business I’d been hoping to see you step through that cur--”
Graylock sent that leather-sheathed left hand out in an Uppercut Thrust that would’ve closed the brunette’s throat then and there if the Tennessee Terror hadn’t crouched low at exactly the right moment. This allowed her to land three equally quick body blows to Helena’s midsection, but the Gray Lady only frowned and THWHUMPED a huge Overhand Forearm Smash across her opponent’s shoulders. Already low, the heavy shot dropped Collins to one knee amidst a round surprised murmurs from the crowd. Collecting a huge handful of dark hair immediately thereafter, Helena wrenched the heathen’s head back and murmured, “Those who actively seek The Gray often find far more than they bargained for, Harley Jo CollUUUNNNGGGGHHHH!”
Harley caught the redhead around the upper thighs and shot up on tiptoe only to come down on her knees to THAWHAM Graylock against the deck with something that was equal parts Spinebuster and Double Leg Takedown! More than happy to unleash the heavy ordinance early and often, HJC climbed into a mount, grabbed hold of the Churchgoer’s coppery braid and pounded away on her forehead and hairline with a series of straight right hands!
Al noted the infraction but held his tongue for the time being to see if Collins would switch to open hands of her own accord. She did not, however Carpenter didn’t say so much as a word because Helena put a stop to it herself by clamping an Iron Claw across the champion’s mouth and nose! The smother brought Collins’ pugilistic efforts to a grinding halt, but the Witch of Razorback Holler didn’t panic like so many of the Briton’s previous victims. Steadying her breathing as much as possible (not the easiest task with Graylock bearing down on the lower half of her face) Harley Jo wrapped one hand around her attacker’s wrist and the other around her throat. Graylock’s eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed in concentration as she redoubled her efforts to snuff the big brunette’s candle.
“All right, enough of that strangle crap!” Carpenter barked after only a few seconds. “Harley, get off her throat! Helena, get off her face!”
Helena only squeezed harder, the powerful redhead obviously enjoying the resistance from such spirited prey. “My grip is perfectly legal, arbiter.” she grunted around Collins’ choke. “This wretch is the only one breaking your archaic AAARRRRRHHHHH!”
Harley had no luck prizing Graylock’s mitt from her mug, so she wormed her thumb under the bottom edge of that damned glove and jammed it deep into the redhead’s wrist. Helena’s hand flew open like magic, not that Collins got any time to appreciate her trick because the angry zealot turned her head to the side with a viciously brisk backhand. “I would not have expected such desperation so early in our encounter.” Helena grunted after she’d torn Collins’ grip away from her own neck. “But perhaps you’re not as eager to find The Gray as you thought you NNNNGGGHHH!”
HJC tagged her with an answering slap from underneath, then popped her hips to toss the other Destroyer out of the mount. Scrambling atop the Southerner before Collins could get away, Graylock snatched a handful of hair to BWUNK Harley Jo’s head against the thinly-sheathed plywood, then stretched her left hand wide and reached do-- Harley lunged up to meet the encroaching digits and sank her teeth into the soft flesh between thumb and index finger. The leather absorbed the worst those heathen fangs could do, but Graylock didn’t appreciate the useless resistance nor did she much care for the Ear Ringer Collins CLAPPED against the right side of her skull!
The shot to the ear made Helena rear back without actually breaking the mount, so Harley Jo kicked her legs up, hooked them beneath the other wrestler’s biceps and pulled her down with a Destroyer-sized Sunset Flip… or rather Sunset Somersault, because the redhead rolled through the counter to come up on one knee a short distance from her target. The Vicious Volunteer twisted onto one knee as well, leaving champion and challenger to regard one another in tense silence for several seconds. Eventually Helena rose to her full height and backed away to make a few minor adjustments to her distended glove.
Collins joined her in verticality, the rangy brunette using this brief lull to flick her trunks into place. “Watch where you’re sticking that glove, darlin’.” Harley warned the opposition. “Push me too far and I might just make you eat it.”
Helena tilted her head to one side, a cold little smirk on her face. “I won’t push you anywhere, little one. I will however drag you kicking and screaming into The Gray. That is what you want, is it not? A suitably valiant end to this otherwise doomed crusade of yours?”
“Your boss is the one to ask about doomed Crusades.” Collins replied. “She’s got plenty of experience in that arena.”
“Miranda isn’t my boss, little one.” Helena sniffed. “She merely provided an opportunity to feed more deserving warriors to my blessed Gr--”
Harley Jo hit the Englishwoman with a Collar & Elbow Lock-Up so aggressive that it knocked Graylock back several paces before she dug in her heels. Quick to stuff a hand under Helena’s chin in retaliation for earlier smothers, the Tennessee Terror yanked on her rival’s braid just because she could and grunted, “You can knock off the spooky Hammer double feature bullshyt, darlin’. It might scare the norms, it don’t scare EERRRGGGHHHH!”
Helena answered with a hair-pull of her own as well as a rough pie-face that twisted the IC champ’s head at an unpleasant angle. Carpenter called out both wrestlers on the hair-pull but they made no effort to end it and he didn’t get a chance to repeat himself because they started bulling one another around the squared circle! Control proved easy to grab but much harder to maintain: Harley would force Helena back by three, maybe four steps, then the redhead would twist her hips to send both women skidding along the ropes until they hit a corner and Collins would march ‘em back out into the center again.
This erratic zig-zagging went on for more than fifteen seconds and might’ve continued unabated if Harley Jo hadn’t cupped Helena’s cheeks and pressed in to ‘smoosh’ her elegant features in a fish face that was anything but. The challenger’s situation grew all the more worrisome when HJC shifted that hand to slide her middle and ring fingers into the redhead’s mouth, under her tongue in particular. “Why do you look so surprised, darlin’?” Collins muttered to the wide-eyed Briton as she pressed her thumb into the underside of Helena’s chin. “You ain’t the only one that knows a thing or two about snuffin’ candles. And ‘Liza Bliss ain’t the only one who’s mastered this holMMMMHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Graylock answered with another Palm Smother, the Churchgoer just grrrrrrrriiiiinding her leather-armored hand against the lower half of the champion’s face! Determined to stand firm against her adversary, brunette and redhead made no effort to escape their attacker’s grasp, rather they leaned into one another and put their considerable strength into making the other yield to her pitiless grip.
Al didn’t much care for the pink flush creeping into his charges’ features, alas there wasn’t much he could do when the condition was inflicted by perfectly legal holds. Keeping as close to the action as he dared, the ref’s attention darted back and forth between both women in case one should start to show signs of “OOFFH!” Harley Jo’s butt shot backward when Graylock spiked a Kneelift into the plank of the Englishwoman’s midsection just above her navel. Eyes narrowed to angry slots, Collins steadied her footing, bore down on the Mandible Claw a little harder and tested Helena’s abdominal resolve with an equally spiteful Kneelift. The Gray Lady endured it with a gurgled growl, then fired off a second Kneelift. The Tennessee Terror’s nod was almost imperceptible, but Graylock and Carpenter interpreted it correctly.
Challenge accepted.
What followed was a short but furious exchange of belly blows, the sort of callous one for one exchange that typified the most mean-spirited of Clinch Fights. Now the inclusion of claws Iron and Mandible made it anything but a typical Clinch Fight, in fact the FAWNatics were starting to murmur in concern, wondering just how long each wrestler could resist the might of her foe’s combined-- Helena used the Palm Smother to force the Southerner’s head back at a sharp angle, thus exposing her throat for the vile stiff-fingered strike she jabbed into it a heartbeat later! Collins coughed, her knees shimmied and the Mandible Claw loosened enough for Graylock to spit it out within a second or two.
“I can already feel you sinking into the mire, little one.” the redhead growled as she continued to deny the champion air. “Perhaps you aren’t the worthy warm-up I thought you’d EERRRHH BYTCH!”
With no grip to occupy her idle hands, Harley Jo did some devil’s work in the form of a thumb gouged into her opponent’s right eye! Tearing Graylock’s goddamned mitt away from her face within seconds of the tawdry counter, HJC wrapped a death-grip around Helena’s thumb and tried to snap it clean off her hand! “What’re you sayin’ about worthy, sugar? I didn’t hear you the first time, I was too busy trying to break your f*cking fingNNNNGGGHHH!”
Graylock palmed her opponent’s skull in both hands, all the better to keep Collins steady when she THUNKED a Headbutt into the bridge of her nose. The Vicious Volunteer shoved Helena away, though the effort of doing so almost made her take an awkward knee. “The standard backwood savagery won’t work on me, Collins.” she growled. “So dig deep into that snake-pit that passes for your soul and muster something stronger or--”
BIG BOOT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=xfTd3hbjyoo
Harley Jo THWHACKED her across the cheek with a standing Big Boot that sent the startled Brit backpedaling into the strands! Already crouched in anticipation of Graylock’s return, Collins was thinking Gutbuster when Helena hooked her arms over the top rope and held fast.
Eying Harley Jo balefully, she pressed a thumb to one canine and wiggled it a bit before curling her upper lip in disgust. “Heathen slattern! You chipped my tooth!”
“Jeeze Helena, it’s not loose, is it?” Al asked in the midst of slipping on a pair of rubber gloves. “Here, let me check it WHOOOOAAAAHHH!”
Helena intercepted Carpenter’s approach with a hand to the chest and would’ve shoved him into the Witch of Razorback Holler if HJC hadn’t caught him under the arms. Collins shooed him away at once, all in all her efforts cost her no more than two seconds off the clock, yet it was still more than enough for the copper-haired killer of Crythin Gifford. Shooting off the ropes while Harley Jo was otherwise occupied, Graylock planted / spun on her left heel and whipped her right leg up at a near perfect forty-five degrees to THWHAP a beautiful Heel Kick off the brunette’s jaw.
HEEL KICK:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-KrnUA5SSWo
Harley went down flat though her legs shot up straight, if only for a second. “What was with that shyt, Helena?” Al shouted. “I should disqualify you right now!”
“Spare me the righteous indignation.” Graylock sniffed. “You won’t do anything for fear of offending those spectacle hungry executives in the back. Nor would you wish to deny all of these heathens their beloved bread and circuses. And lest we forget the woman gaping on the canvas…” Helena strolled over, raised a foot and casually stamped down on Collins’ belly once, twice, three times! “You certainly don’t have the wherewithal to risk drawing her ire, do you, Algernon Carpenter? Unfortunately for you I want nothing more than the full force of this miserable savage’s venom.”
Neither Harley or Al mustered a response to that tirade, so the Gray Lady bent down, plunged a hand into the former’s dark hair and scraped her off the mat. Collins was in no mood to endure the redhead’s touch and she made her displeasure known with a few quick punches to the belly, but Helena snuffed those with a quick Shoulderblock to the IC champ’s sternum. This allowed for an easy transition into a Wristlock which she used to hurl Harley Jo into the nearest corner. And hurl was the appropriate word, as the power behind Graylock’s toss put the redhead down on her belly whereas poor Collins didn’t even get a chance to turn around before she BWUUUNGED chest-first into the top turnbuckle.
That awkward collision drew a murmur of concern from those assembled, but they didn’t actually cry out until Helena rushed in and THAWHUMPED every bit of her hundred and forty-plus pounds against the Countrycidal Maniac’s back with a huge Avalanche Splash! Throwing one arm over the ropes to keep from losing her balance, Collins somehow found the energy to throw an elbow over her shoulder, unfortunately the blow just grazed Graylock’s noggin and she retaliated by bouncing her forehead off the top buckle half a dozen times. Ending the barrage only because she heard Carpenter hurrying over to piss and moan, Helena pulled her prey back a few steps, then wedged her head under the brunette’s left arm and wrapped her right arm around Collins’ waist. From there she muscled HJC onto the point of her shoulder just so she could return to the corner and set her down on the top turnbuckle.
A few hard Forearm Smashes across the lower back ensured Collins wasn’t going anywhere before she grabbed a handful of hair and turned a quarter circle so she could pull the tenderized Terror across her shoulders in a Torture Rack! The crowd groaned in sympathetic anguish as Collins’ lanky frame was bent across the Englishwoman’s strong shoulders, though several noted that Graylock made no demands for surrender as she stomped to the middle of the ring.
Regardless, Al followed along to check on the champion’s condition. “What do you say, Harley Jo? Need me to call for the--” Helena twisted to the right, swinging Collins’ long legs in an arc that almost caught the tall ref upside the head! The Brit snapped back a second later, using the momentum to sling Harley off her shoulders so she could catch a Reverse Chinlock and lay out on her back to THAWHAM the Vicious Volunteer into the deck with an Argentine Neckbreaker!
ARGENTINE NECKBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZuWRpw6zZe0
Harley Jo bounced to a seat with both crisscrossed over the back of her head. She was still trying to clear the cobwebs when Helena tore those protecting arms away so she could help herself to a handful of hair. Dropping to her tush stretched Collins out on her back and allowed Graylock to thread her legs around the American’s head. “The Gray calls for you, Harley Jo Collins. It demands your presence!” Helena exclaimed as she curled her left leg under Harley’s chin and hooked her right leg over that exposed ankle to really bear down on the Figure Four Headscissors. “So fight to the bitter end if you must, it makes no difference to me.” With that she braced both hands against the mat and hoisted her butt off the mat to add that much more pressure to the already crushing constriction.
HEADSCISSORS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_LmCH80YLu0
“What do you say, Harley?” Carpenter asked once the Headscissors were in place for perhaps ten seconds with no sign of escape from the champion. “Need me to call it?”
Collins couldn’t shake her head ‘no’ so she flipped him off to make her position clear. Helena saw this, smirked and raised her hips while sending another slow, crushing pulse through her thighs. “A paltry showing if ever there was one.” the Briton sniffed. “The arbiter is an idiot, true, but he only wishes to make your transition into The Gray as painless as possib--” Graylock grimaced in pain and annoyance as the trapped brunette palmed the top of her thighs and dug in with white-knuckled relish.
“Nuuuhhh… nothing painless about losin’ a fight, darlin’.” she grunted. “As I’ll be happy to demonstrate shortNNGGGHH!”
Helena pounded a Hammer Punch down into the bridge of Collins’ nose, then grabbed hold of her wrists and prized them away from her stems. “Nothing you know is worth learning, Harley Jo Collins. However I will be happy to use your passage into The Gray as a teaching aid of sorts. Let your insensate burbling serve as a cautionary tale to those who would defy the will of Eternal Midnight.”
Jaw clenched as Graylock’s thighs continued to grind and pulse, the Vicious Volunteer set her feet flat against the mat and began inching her way backward. Helena was so focused on the gathering Gray that she didn’t notice the pinning predicament until Al dropped down beside her and counted off…
ONE…
TWO…
The Englishwoman pumped her hips to send Collins shooting back to start, HJC’s tush THUMPING against the canvas in a miniature Keester Bounce. “Clearly the view of the lights has made you insolent.” she snapped. “Therefore a preview of your destination is an order.” Helena rolled onto her stomach, forcing Harley Jo to do the same. Giving up her Wristlocks to brace both hands against the mat, she pushed up and squeeeeeeeeeeeezed until Collins was kicking her feet in breathless anguish! “Don’t waste your breath.” she said to Al, who looked like he was about to query Collins once more. “I have no interest in releasing our outmatched champion until she’s sunk deep into The-- WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”
Always more willing to show than tell, the Witch of Razorback Holler clambered to all fours and scooted forward until she made it to one knee. In a poor position to stop Collins’ progress, Graylock continued to pour power into the Headscissors, yet it wasn’t enough to keep Harley Jo from slooooooooowly returning to verticality with the surprised redhead seated atop her shoulders!
Infuriated by this insolence (not to mention the cheers from the FAWNatics) Helena filled her hands with HJC’s hair and-- “WHOOOAAHHH ARRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHH!” Collins tore Graylock’s hands from her tresses at the cost of several strands, then tucked those greedy claws beneath her armpits and clamped down to keep them wedged between her biceps and torso. In the next instant she laid claim to Helena’s ankles, wrenched them apart and bounced in place, not to throw the Brit from her perch, but to send her tumbling down the champion’s back in an improvised Gory Special!
GORY SPECIAL:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4J5KA5ykTtU
Finding the energy to smile once she felt the back of Graylock’s head swishing against her tush, Harley Jo Collins herownself pullllllllled down on her prey’s ankles and went through several deep knee bends to exacerbate the pressure on Helena’s knees and spine. “You ain’t the only one that can play submission games, sugar.” Harley taunted once her own breathing had returned to normal. “You ready to give it up or can I have the pleasure of showing you off to the crowd a little while longer?”
“Not on your life, little one.” Helena sneered. “This is nothing more than an inconvenience, the sort of useless hope that will make your subsequent destruction all the more satisfyNOOOOO!”
Collins began to spin in place, a technique she’d learned from Olivia Dare, of all people. Doing so turned the already painful predicament into a nauseating twist on the Airplane Spin, one that made Graylock squeeze her eyes closed to ward off the worst of the dizziness. Slowing the ride only when her own equilibrium started to suffer, Harley steadied her footing and pulled on Helena’s legs even harder than before. “Still trapped, bytch.” the Tennessee Terror noted. “Give up in the next few seconds and you might be able to leave this ring without Miranda and the others having to teleport your pasty ass to safety.”
“Your words are as spineless as your offense.” Graylock snapped. “Enjoy both while you can, for I’ll end both far sooner than you’d li--”
Harley pointed herself at a corner on the far side of the ring and took off toward it with Helena jostling along like the world’s biggest, gloomiest backpack. She covered the distance in remarkably short order, only slowing her pace from a few steps out so she could whip around and BAWUUUNG her opponent’s taut-stretched belly into the roughly-padded steel of the top turnbuckle! Helena let out a wail the likes of which those assembled hadn’t heard pass her lips since the depths of her war with Morgan Kinloch almost three years prior. Well and truly gutshot by the wicked bit of offensive innovation, Graylock couldn’t do more than gasp and retch as Collins tromped back to the center of the squared circle.
“Gettin’ tired of lugging your ass around, Graylock.” Harley grunted, the strain evident in her tone. “But I’m not quite ready to put ya down just yet.” The Gray Lady offered no reply and that was fine with HJC, she didn’t need any comments from the peanut gallery while she labored to muscle Helena up out of the Gory Special and into a breathless Fireman’s Carry across her shoulders. Nodding her satisfaction with this new arrangement, the Countrycidal Maniac put one hand on the challenger’s knee and the other on her throat. From there she earned another loud round of applause by muscling her fellow Destroyer high overhead in a Military Press! T’was an impressive sight for the crowd and an equally impressive view for Graylock, though neither got to appreciate their respective vantages for more than a few heartbeats because Collins promptly sank to one knee and THWHUMPED Helena down tummy-first atop the posted joint!
ROCKY TOP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=0mJetOPuTuc
Graylock bounced away from the gut-churning, went down on one knee and immediately rolled to a seat to better wrap both arms around her roiled midsection. Harley noted all this was a predator’s practiced eye, the Southerner hesitating just long enough to get a bead on Graylock’s position before she ran the ropes dead ahead and came back to THWHACK a Basement Big Boot between the Briton’s eyes! Helena went down flat but slopped onto her belly immediately thereafter, thus costing Collins precious time to roll the redhead back over before she bundled her up in Back Press good for…
BASEMENT BIG BOOT:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=EzONmOnqCfA
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOOO!
The powerful Churchgoer forced her way free with half a second to spare in a show of tenacity that seemed to irritate everyone but the Intercontinental Champion. “You had yourself a pretty nice time trying to squeeze my head offa my shoulders.” Harley Jo admitted as she used the redhead’s braid to drag her to a seat. “So I hope you don’t take it too personal if I smile when your ribs start to give out.”
“Duuuuhhhh… do your worst.” Graylock muttered. “It only strengthens my resOOOOUUUUGGGGHHHH!”
BODYSCISSORS:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=-zjwRwTsxd4
The Witch of Razorback Holler did just that, securing her legs around Helena’s midsection for a Bodyscissors that had the other woman doubled over in breathless hurt within seconds. Hands flat against the deck, Collins boosted her way up and continued to squeeze, those long, dangerous stems stymieing Wainright’s chief enforcer like no previous adversary had ever managed. As surprised as the rest of the crowd to see such strain stamped across the Englishwoman’s features, Al hunkered down by the action and asked, “What do you say, Helena? Need me to call for the bell?”
“Don’t waste my time with such idiocy.” Graylock grumbled. “It insults us bothhhheerrrrrggghhhhh!”
“Don’t be so hard on the man, he’s just trying to keep you safe.” Harley Jo teased as her latest constriction sent a shudder through the seated zealot. “Lord knows you need someone to help out, you’re sure not getting the job done by OOOFFFHH!”
Helena jabbed an elbow into the Southerner’s tummy, then tacked on another for good measure. The second put Collins’ butt back on the mat and loosened the Scissors enough for Graylock to palm the IC champ’s knees. She didn’t push her way out though. Rather she pressed down on Harley Jo’s stems so she could slowly turn around to face the Tennessee Terror. Set on her knees by the time she arrived, Helena reared back and CRAAACKED a rough Knife-Edge Chop across her opponent’s chest. “Your control of the situation lasts only so long as I wish it.” the redhead explained. “You dangle by a thread above The Gray and will join it at my leisUNGH NGH!”
HJC bore down on the Scissors and followed it with a stiff slap that clapped off Helena’s cheek. “So you’re in control, are you, darlin’?” Collins was having none of the Briton’s crap. “Then you might want to cut me loose before--”
Helena clouted the brunette’s chest with a heavy Forearm Smash, then leaned in and wrapped both arms around Collins’ long midsection for a Bear Hug. “Escape is no option for you, heathen.” the Gray Lady explained to the trapped champion. “Resignation is the only hope of easing your passage into HUUURRRK!”
The Witch of Razorback Holler wedged a Mandible Claw into Helena’s mouth and clamped down until her knuckles showed white. “I’m not going anywhere, Graylock.” Harley Jo groaned. “You however are UUUGGGGHHHH!”
Helena didn’t just put more power into the Bear Hug, she shifted to one knee and slowly returned to verticality while still mired in the Bodyscissors / Mandible Claw combination! Not quite sure who he should check with first considering there were three different submission holds currently in play, Carpenter played it safe by saying, “How are you doing, ladies? Everyone WHOAH!” Helena whipped toward the sound of his voice, forcing the official to dive backward so he wasn’t caught by Harley Jo’s legs. In this he was successful, alas Al hadn’t counted on the challenger rushing the ropes immediately thereafter, thus forcing the ref to backpedal until-- the crowd groaned in sympathetic hurt when Al and his two charges hit the strands and just kept going, Helena’s forward momentum spilling them through the strands to land on the thinly-padded concrete floor.
The return to solid ground wasn’t pleasurable for anyone, but Carpenter got the worst of it, considering that he played crash-pad to both champion and challenger. Speaking of whom, Harley Jo and Helena bounced away from one another on impact and rolled, then crawled in different directions to create some much needed separation.
Helena’s head bumped into something hard and the Churchgoer swatted it aside, creating the awkward, cringe-inducing clatter that only comes from a steel chair or three. Still working the kinks from her throbbing jaw, Graylock leaned back on her haunches and realized she’d disturbed the store of chairs beside the Timekeeper’s table. A backward glance showed her nothing but the sprawl of Al Carpenter and the broad, defenseless expanse of Collins’ back.
“I tend to prefer a… gentler… path to The Gray for my adversaries.” Helena said softly. “But for those that respond to nothing but mindless brute force…” the Englishwoman picked up one of those discarded chairs and got to her feet amidst a raucous chorus of boos from the sold out crowd.
Down at the other end of that narrow aisle, Harley Jo noted the commotion but was too focused on her aching ribs and lower back to actually check into it. Probably a good thing she didn’t because the Vicious Volunteer would’ve had to watch Helena Graylock stalking her way, the Destroyer-class redhead slamming that commandeered chair against the floor with a loud bang before she raised it high overhead and-- another roar from the FAWNatics, this one far more pleased than its predecessor. Helena barely registered it before the chair was pulled from her hands with a single swift tug! Incensed by this intrusion, Helena whirled in a half circle, her gloved hand already drawn back to seek “OOOOFFFFHHH!”
Becky Clayton stuffed the rounded edge of the chair into Graylock’s navel, doubling her over in a single stroke. Delighted but far from satisfied by the sight of her gutted rival, the Camouflage Crusher hoisted the chair into the rafters and BWAAANGED it down across Helena’s defenseless shoulders! The Gray Lady reared up, spun away from her attacker and BWAAANG! Becky caught her a third time, a veritable home run swing to the back that finally put Miranda’s muscle on the mat in a facedown sprawl.
Tossing the weapon aside after a quick inspection for dents, Clayton stomped over to Graylock, collected her by trunks and tresses, then scraped her off the floor. “This is just the first receipt.” Bex growled in the Brit’s ear. “The next comes when you actually have the guts to meet me in the ring.”
Helena grunted something meaningless, so the Courtier stuffed her under the bottom rope.
“Don’t recall asking for any help with this one, darlin’.”
Clayton turned in the direction of that drawling voice and found herself almost nose to nose with the Countrycidal Maniac. “No you did not.” she replied. “Which is why I’m not expecting a thank you. But you’re still welcome.”
Becky started to leave only to stop dead when Collins grabbed her arm. “You and I made peace a long time ago, dog face.” the IC champ murmured. “Be a real shame to throw that all away by encroaching on my business.”
“You want to fight, Harley? You know where to find me. Now get your damned hand off me and finish the match.”
Harley Jo squeezed a little tighter, then did as bade. “Been a pleasure, Rebecca.” Dismissing her as quickly as that, the leggy brunette turned her attention to Al, who’d just now made it to all fours. “C’mon Carpenter, action’s shifted indoors again.” She hooked an arm around his waist, hauled him up and deposited him back in the ring with a little more reverence than Becky had shown Helena.
With the zebra and her challenger thus returned to the squared circle, HJC slid under the bottom rope, got up and padded over to Helena just as the redhead was starting to stir. “Can’t lie, I ain’t happy with how we got here.” Collins told the Churchgoer as she reeled her into a Standing Headscissors. “But regardless of the path, the destination remains the same. Not that I’d mind if you came back for seconds. I’ve enjoyed whipping your ass.”
Give the devil her due, Graylock tried to prize her way loose from the Southerner’s trap, but those efforts came to an abrupt end when Collins butterflied her arms with a snug Double Underhook. Harley Jo took a deep breath to gather her strength, then dipped her knees and muscled Helena up until the tips of her toes were pointed at the rafters. Over the roar of the crowd she slung Graylock down and laid out on her back, Collins drawing her knees up to her chest so the Briton THWHUMPED down full force on the bony joints! The Gray Lady bounced away, rolling onto her back in a slow motion sprawl that resumed normal speed when the Vicious Volunteer bundled both legs and folded her in half for a Back Press. She’d worried about Carpenter being out of position, thankfully those fears were laid to rest when the rattled but very much awake referee crawled over and counted…
ACE OF SPADES:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZrshSobqt1M
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!
Harley tossed the redhead’s legs aside, rolled to one knee and held an index finger overhead while the Announcer called, “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner via pin-fall and STILL the FAWN Intercontinental Champion… HARLEY JO COLLINS!”
Making it to her feet with a low groan, the weary brunette trudged over to the ropes so she could accept the IC strap from a FAWN tech. “Not a big fan of the kindness of strangers.” Collins told the camera as she hoisted the belt overhead. “And I sure as hell don’t need the kindness of the Black Court. But considering what Miranda’s flock has gotten away with as of late I suppose the occasional bit of unfairness in my favor shouldn’t be frowned upon.” She paused, glanced over to the motionless form of one Helena Graylock. “Still. You’ve got every reason to be sore, so I’ll make you a deal. Sort out your shyt with dogface and the rest of Emily’s chess pieces. Once that’s settled, you come find me and we can finish what we started.”
No answer from either the Gray Lady or the other members of her sect, so Harley Jo slung the belt over her shoulder and exited the ring in search of a well deserved post-fight drink.