Post by hawkeye on Jan 8, 2020 0:27:20 GMT
“Ladies and Gentlemen! Tonight’s co-main event is scheduled for one fall and is for the FAWN INTERCONTINENTAL TITLE! First, please welcome the challenger…Representing…uh…FLC, she is known as the Hollow Girl…HARRIET LARKIN!”
Moaning Lisa Smile www.youtube.com/watch?v=z71df68qLp0
Flames lit up the arena, licking out from several concealed ‘throwers in the stage and down the entranceway. The sudden heat heralded the arrival of a statuesque redhead, swishing out from behind the curtain and striding off down the entranceway as if she could neither feel the heat nor see the naked flames bursting just a few feet away from her.
Harriet Larkin
For her second attempt at gold in her fledgling FAWN career Larkin had chosen a slight variation on her usual outfit, although usual probably wasn’t really the correct word. Her short pleated tartan skit was still there, short and flared enough to give more than a glimpse of a pair of red panties underneath, but her usual white tank had been switched for deep red, almost matching her hair. Those auburn locks fell in loose waves over her shoulders, while those long and sunkissed legs were bare except for a pair of red boxing boots.
Although several fans at ringside looked around in the expectation of seeing the redhead’s omnipresent friends in FlC, it appeared that she was flying solo for this evening. The more knowledgeable at ringside were immediately suspicious of this given the group’s history of surprise attacks, peering around the crowds in the hopes of identifying a ringer in their midst. But Larkin showed little awareness of this, simply ascending the steps, slipping into the ring, and stomping over to the corner with her gaze focused squarely back up the ramp.
“And her opponent. Please welcome…she is known as the Arctic Assassin, the Stranger, and she is the reigning FAWN INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION…ASTRID WHITE!”
Brennisteinn www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oc6zXSdYXm8
A pair of giant, hyper-realistic eyes opened up on the ‘tron just as a torrent of roaring bass was unleashed through the speakers. For a few moments there was nothing but mist swirling in the twilit stage, until an impossibly tall and slender looking figure strode out into the gladiatorial arena. Astrid White’s progress to the ring was usually measured and sedate, much like the woman herself, but tonight she seemed considerably more urgent, the longest legs in FAWN carrying her forward to the ring at an unusual pace.
ASTRID WHITE:
The champion had also eschewed her normal hooded robe, and the altered costume she had tried back at the last PPV. Instead she had returned to the midnight blue lycra shorts and sheer white halter, the technical fabric containing her modest curves but leaving acres of porcelain skin and those mesmerising pins on full show. White wore midnight blue boots to complete her look, while the title belt she was defending tonight was dragged behind her almost as an afterthought, an impression which was maintained when she simply dropped it at ringside and dashed forwards to slide under the rope and into the ring.
Sprinting forwards as soon as she was back to her feet, the Stranger’s long legs covered the canvas in moments as she dashed headlong in the direction of her opponent. Credit Larkin, she actually stepped forwards to meet the charging six-footer head on, but the sheer momentum sent her flying backwards, the pair crashing into the lightly-padded turnbuckles in a messy pile of limbs. It took both beauties a second to disentangle themselves, the pause allowing the crowd to roar their approval of an unexpectedly urgent start, and then Harriet found herself yanked upwards by her hair, only for OOOOF
One Icelandic knee pistoned up and buried into the redhead’s trim waist. Harriet was lifted upwards by the shot but was yanked back down again, the champion cupping both hands around her neck and yanking her forwards, right into another short and brutally stiff kneelift. Never the most technical of fighters, Larkin’s response to the expertly applied Muay Thai clinch was to drop her own arms and try to defend against those strikes, leaving her wide open when Astrid simply broke one half of her grip and scythed the point of her elbow right into the challenger’s temple.
Larkin instinctively swung away, her ears ringing from the blow, and found that she had nowhere to go, backed up as she was in the corner. And again she was wide open, this time as White took a half step back and leaped forwards, her Jumping Kneestrike connecting perfectly with the New Mexican’s chin! Harriet slumped backwards, dropping to a messy seat in the corner with the Stranger towering before her.
Astrid didn’t pause for an instant, stutter-stepping forwards and powering a short kick into the grounded challenger’s side. A second strike was headed right for her jaw until Larkin flung a last minute arm up, covering up as best she could while the other hand reached forwards in an attempt to deflect or even grasp the intruding boot. Her efforts seemed largely futile, the Stranger simply switching targets to pepper her ribs and thighs, her relentless accuracy only disrupted when Craig Long decided he had nagged enough and instead shoved himself forcibly in between the vengeful champion and her victim.
“Back off NOW!” he shouted. White looked pretty close to ignoring him, her eyes still flashing squarely at the ambushed FlC girl. But despite the aggressive start there was clearly still enough of the Stranger’s usual icy focus behind those eyes, the champion raising her hands wordlessly and taking a half step back but no more.
“Start the match.”
Long spun his head, initially surprised that he words had come from the floored challenger rather than the woman who had jumped her. Harriet was pulling herself gingerly back to her feet, stopping to sweep the messy strands of red form her eyes so she could look the referee right in his face. “I said start the match, pussy. Princess Elsa here had her shot. Now I want mine.” She pushed forwards, White stepping in to meet her, the pair both converging on a space currently occupied by an increasingly flustered-looking official.
“BACK!” He warned. Neither woman moved, eyes locked on each other, until Larkin brought both arms up to give a big shove to the taller woman. Astrid took a step back and would have swarmed straight back in if it wasn’t for the referee’s outreached hands. “I said BACK!” he yelled, “back off now or I’m throwing this whole thing out and getting security to drag you away.” The threat of having to abandon their fight seemed to be just enough to mollify both women, if only for a few seconds, White taking another half-step back while Larkin simply leaned, lolling back into her corner and smoothing out her attire after the hasty opening.
Giving both protagonists one last reproachful glance, the referee decided that this was probably the best opening he was going to get and gestured to the timekeeper, the sound of the opening bell ringing out a few moments later. Long was already backpedalling away from the presumed danger zone but in fact the warring pair both held their ground, Larkin glaring balefully at the champion while Astrid stayed stone-still.
“Where are the others?” she asked quietly. If Harriet was surprised by the question she didn’t show it, a humourless grin spreading across her lips as she answered.
“You mean my friends? I don’t know honey, I’m sure they’re around somewhere. You really don’t need to worry about them. Not when you should be worrying about me.” The redhead pushed languidly back up to her full height, stepping out of the corner with her hands raised loosely. Astrid still didn’t move, staring searchingly at her challenger for a few heartbeats. “You will tell me where they are,” she promised, slipping forwards into the rapidly narrowing space.
For their second skirmish the two gladiators both seemed to be a little more cagey, Harriet holding a wary crouch while the Stranger circled around her. One long leg swung out, looking to sweep the redhead’s knee and swishing by as Larkin lifted her leg out of the way. She spun immediately, one arm cocked and ready to smash into the champion’s face, but before she could do so another Icelandic knee slammed up into her stomach.
Surging forwards to follow up her success, the Arctic Assassin swung an elbow of her own up into her challenger’s collarbone, the dull thud audible over the crowd, before wrapping both arms around the shorter woman’s torso. Larkin had no chance to counter as she was lifted bodily up, over, and DOWN into the canvas covered plywood.
SIDE BELLY-BELLY SUPLEX www.youtube.com/watch?v=CXRJ0dS1Pdk
Astrid landed alongside her challenger, rolling to her side and shuffling into a kneeling mount over the winded redhead. She raised one hand and hammered it down, clunking into Harriet’s jawbone even as she raised her hands to defend her face. “Where are the others?” she asked, dropping a hammerfist again, this time clunking into a defending forearm. “Where are the others?” Another hammerfist dropped, this time slamming into the crease of her cleavage, drawing a hiss of pain. “Where are the others?” Another, slamming into a forearm again, and another, and another, the assault slowing a little as Larkin did her best to cover as many targets as possible.
“They might be up your ass,” she called from behind her guarding forearms, “I’ll ram your head up there to find out.” The champion seemed particularly unimpressed with the insolence, slamming one last hammerfist down and then shifting her body up so that one knee pressed down with all her weight right on the base of the Hollow Girl’s throat. “Where are they?” she hissed, “you will tell me one way or UFF.”
Uncomfortable as it might have been for Harriet to have a knee on her throat, she was quick to take advantage of the relative lack of balance the position afforded to the blonde. One big shove was enough to send her sprawling sideways, Astrid slumping down into an untidy heap on the mat. She was immediately scrabbling to get herself back vertical, but had only made it to all fours when Harriet grabbed one ankle and yanked it backwards, sending her face down once again. Things quickly got more precarious for the champion when Larkin stood up and spun 180 degrees, hauling upwards and leaning in to secure a high, tight and nasty Half Crab.
HALF BOSTON CRAB www.youtube.com/watch?v=JKqy2T-QFBU&
Taking a second to shift her weight even further in and enjoy the feeling of being on offence for the first time that evening, Harriet glanced down at the squirming champion and then over at Craig Long, hovering attentively nearby. “Ask her if she quits,” she ordered the referee, who was quick to comply. All he received in return was a glare and a waggle of her finger, the official turning back to an apparently dissatisfied Hollow Girl.
“Ask her if she quits!” she demanded again. Long looked nonplussed, but that didn’t stop the demands. “Ask her! Ask her. Aaaaasskkkk heeeeerrrr!” The official’s bemusement had become full-o confusion by this point, replaced with annoyance when Larkin’s mock anger turned into a sneer. “Annoying, isn’t it?” she asked, Astrid responding with a growl and a wriggle which wasn’t quite enough to detach the redhead’s iron grip. “I will not submit to you,” she said with all the sternness she could muster while her torso was being forcibly pressed into the mat.
Remarkably her words earned a little relief, Harriet standing up a little and lessening the pressure as she turned sideways slightly. The relief was extremely brief though as the FlC star raised one boot and brought it jabbing down, first into the taut curve of the champion’s glute and then swinging sideways in short’n’dirty kicks to the back of the knee. “I don’t care whether you submit, honey. All I care about right now is kicking your scrawny ass until all the arrogance has bled out.” To illustrate her point she tightened her grip again and yanked up, pulling most of the Icelander’s long body up before dropping forwards and ramming the point of that knee right into the barely-covered plywood.
Unable to prevent a shriek from escaping her lips, the champion rolled hurriedly over on to her back and reached down to rub at that knee. She didn’t manage to reach it though, Larkin moving with her and kneeling across the caught limb to pin it to the mat. The redhead reached over and grasped Astrid’s other knee, pushing forwards to force a second leg down to the matting. Astrid’s flexibility was enough to avoid significant pain from the enforced split, but she was still caught uncomfortably on the canvas, lacking the leverage to force the heavier woman off.
She quickly came to regret this as Harriet’s free hand came into play, her fingers worming into the pit of one pinned knee and jabbing roughly into the pliable flesh hidden there. A second involuntary yelp came from the champion, the pain urgent enough to make White reach down in vain. When this proved futile she crunched up her core, the awkward situp finally getting her close enough to shove the redhead off. She ended up in a seat, hands out to rub furiously at her new aches, eyes still glaring daggers up at Harriet.
Or at least she was until the redhead stepped forward and delivered a stomp right down between those splayed legs into the center of her trunks! White let out a sob of hurt and rage, hands flying between her thighs, left wide open as Harriet slammed a short Soccer Kick into her sternum which sent the blonde prone again. Larkin dropped to her knees over the splayed blonde, leaning down and rubbing one forearm roughly into that photogenic face. Whether she intended it or not she had Astrid’s shoulders pinned to the matt, Craig Long dropping to count
ONE
TWO
White shoved a shoulder up, but the pin had been broken anyway, the Hollow Girl sitting up on her haunches and glaring at the official. “Count all you want dickhead, I’m not finishing this until I’m readGURKH!”
Keen to regain some initiative, the Stranger crunched her core again and sat up far enough to grab two big handfuls of auburn locks, using them to yank the challenger’s head down and loop one arm around. The sudden makeshift Guillotine Choke was quite sunk in as deep as Astrid might have liked, but the Santa Fe girl’s efforts to extricate herself left her distracted enough for the champion to wriggle out from beneath her.
Holding tight to her trap, White clambered back up to her considerable height, pulling the challenger up with her. As soon as her feet were set she hauled up further, this time lifting her burden up to about the 2 position before dropping back down again and falling to her knees. Harriet was dumped into the floor chest-first, her face bouncing off the rough canvas, body coming to rest in a painful quiver.
GOURDBUSTER www.youtube.com/watch?v=Isxbrb31koE
Pushing up to her knees a little to fast for her still swimming head, Harriet almost lost her balance, rolling to one side and then her back before sitting up. She might have been attempting to get further up to vertical, but that option was taken away from her by the Arctic Assassin, swooping in from behind and wrapping the longest legs in FAWN around the back of her noggin. White lay gently back down, looping one leg around and tucking it behind the other to bring a full-pressure squeeze on Larkin’s already hurting skull.
FIGURE FOUR HEADSCISSORS www.youtube.com/watch?v=uRHkTmZ4gOY
“Where are the others?” she asked, her voice calm despite the strain of trying to pop her challenger’s skull open. Harriet didn’t respond; in truth it wasn’t clear if she could with those silken-steel pins clamped around her head. But she did manage to raise two fingers, the middle one on each hand, aimed squarely back up at the Stranger.
Rewarded for her display with nothing but an even more vicious squeeze of those python calves, Harriet set her fingers to different work, flattening her hands out and working to worm her fingers into any gaps in the vice around her jaw. It was slow work, especially with Craig Long buzzing around concernedly, but after about thirty seconds she was able to dig both sets of nails once more into the pliable flesh at the back of White’s knees. The champion let out a hiss of annoyance, but her retribution was far more severe, reaching one free hand down and raking her own nails right over the ensnared redhead’s eyes!
“Where are the others?” Of course Larkin had closed her eyes, the only real protective measure she had, but she couldn’t help but let out a wail as the Stranger’s thumb pressed down on those shut lids with worrying force. “Tell me!” Astrid barked, but her demands were quickly superseded by those of Craig Long, the official back to threatening again after seeing his champion’s ocular assault.
“Stay off the eyes, White! This is your last warning!” he shouted, leaning up so there was no way the blonde could claim to not have heard. Despite this Astrid still didn’t seem to register the order, pausing the work of her fingers but baring down even harder in an effort to find out whether the Hollow Girl’s head really lived up to her nickname. The referee’s count had reached ‘FOUR’ before she finally released, her legs unlocking as Larkin slumped once again to the canvas.
Blood rushing in her ears, face redden to almost purple from that lethal pressure, Harriet still didn’t stay down for more than a few seconds, rolling to all fours and getting slightly unsteadily to her feet. She was greeted there by the towering Stranger, Astrid once again lopping around behind that auburn mane and pulling her forward into the oh-so-dangerous Muay Thai clutch.
“Where are the others?” She asked, one knee flying upwards again. Harriet just about managed to get her hands down in time, shoving downwards to ward the blow off. “Where are theENGG TAWDRY SHYTnnnn”. Having heard the question quite enough in the preceding minutes, the FlC girl tried a new tactic to avoid it by swinging her own foot up and punting the blonde right up between her thighs! The Muay Thai clutch disintegrated, white swaying down and away from the hateful strike.
Around the arena a fair few boos mixed with the general roars of approval at the brutality on show. White’s face had gone the colour of her surname, but she was given no reprieve as her tormentor slipped behind and grabbed the waistband of her togs, The Icelander clearly realised what was coming, trying to scamper away, but instead she was left up on her tiptoes as Harriet turned her shorts into a rapidly vanishing thong courtesy of a vicious lifted wedgie!
“You want to get nasty, bytch?” Harriet snarled. Astrid was either unable or unwilling to answer, preoccupied with trying to regain control of her own treacherous togs, so the Hollow Girl answered her own question. “Lyra says you like to make rules, so here’s one for you. Touch my eyes again and I’m going to reach into your little panties and rip you apart from the inside out.”
Harriet didn’t seem interested in finding out whether her promise had been understood. Instead she broke one half of her tight grip on those midnight blue shorts and looped an arm over the hurt champion’s shoulder, clamping down with her bicep and setting her feet to whip White over into a snap Suplex. The impact of the six-footer snapping into the matting was enough to leave the ring a quiver, but Larkin wasn’t resting on her laurels, rolling right back up with her tog grip still in place and whipping the bigger woman over for a second Snap Suplex. Still she maintained that handful of twisted-up trunks, this time bending her back and hauling Astrid up, up to vertical and holding the destroyer-class blonde there for several seconds, arrow straight. Finally she allowed gravity to reclaim the champion, dropping to her back and sending Astrid down into a THUMPING collusion with the lightly covered wood floor.
WEDGIE VERTICAL SUPLEX www.youtube.com/watch?v=EkxIyK3y5SU
Arcing her spine up as if the canvas was electrified, White split her efforts between massaging her vertebrae and trying to adjust her treacherous bottoms into a less invasive alignment. Her efforts in this were quickly thwarted when Larkin reclaimed her vile grip, using the trunks and a handful of white lycra top to drag the blonde up wards. Astrid had a second or two to get her feet underneath her before she was off, the Hollow Girl leading her on a sort of enforced jog until she was tossed bodily forwards, thrown between the bottom and middle turnbuckles to THUMP into the steel ring post.
The champion was left suspended in that gap, head lolling down, knees looking wobbly on the canvas. They didn’t stay there for long, Larkin reaching down to grab the same leg she had targeted all match, wrapping the stem tight around the bottom rope. White realised her predicament, reaching down to free her trapped pin, only for her hands to recoil in shock and pain as the big redhead kicked out, crunching the trapped kneecap between the toe of her boot and the unforgiving steel.
“I was in a few fights with a chick called Lenore last year,” Harriet informed the writhing blonde. “Got scared I was going to kick her too hard, so she went after my knee. Just like this.” Another short kick, and another shriek, Astrid trying to pull her leg away but unable to pull against the taut cable. “Hurts, doesn’t it?” Larkin asked, firing out a third shot to emphasise her point. She probably would have gone further if it wasn’t for Craig Long.
“Get her out of the ropes Larkin, I’m not going to warn you again!” he barked. Harriet turned to him, hands up in mock supplication, but the official was too experienced not to see the nasty little mule kick she swung out, a final spike of pain in that brutalised knee. “Get away!” He demanded, bending forwards to untwist the cable and finally allow Astrid to massage at the pain in her tenderised joint.
“Are you able to continue Astrid?” Long asked quietly. It took the Stranger a second to respond, preoccupied as she was with tending to her aches, but her eyes were deadly serious when she turned to face him. “Yes,” she said, voice deadpan, “Your services will not be required yet. They may be soon.”
Nodding, the referee backed off, keeping himself loosely between the two battlers as White made her way gingerly to her feet. Harriet’s face had taken on an almost hungry look, the Hollow Girl sweeping forwards as soon as her path was clear and singing a big SLAP right into the hurting champ’s face. Another followed rapidly behind, then a big shove to send the Icelander back to the ropes while Harriet sprinted off to their opposite side. She turned at full pace, ready to deliver even more pain, and instead turned right into a Flying Knee from the vengeful champion.
FLYING BICYCLE KNEE www.youtube.com/watch?v=4096ZsQIhg0
For a second or two there was confusion from the FAWNatics, most trying to work out just how the Stranger had gone from lame hobbling to such an athletic sprint. The keenest observers might have noticed that White had jumped off her ‘wrong’ leg to deliver the momentum-shifting strike, and that her standing leg had collapsed as she landed. But most were far too busy roaring in surprise and appreciation to pay that close attention.
Despite the clamour there was no acknowledgement of that spike in noise from Astrid, or indeed anything to show that she had even noticed. Instead she was clambering gingerly back to her feet, eyes still focused on the stunned figure of her challenger. Harriet looked as if she had been knocked loopy by the strike, lolling against the ropes as if there was little else to keep her vertical. And pretty quickly there wasn’t, White grabbing one arm and sweeping her legs all in one movement to leave the redhead kneeling on the mat.
Reaching out tiredly, the Arctic Assassin gathered up her prey’s other arm and pulled both out in front, Larkin’s arms spread as if ready to receive some divine intervention. Instead all she received was that ‘good’ knee yet again, Astrid stepping back and then diving forwards to THUNK her knee into the Santa Fe girl’s face!
KNEESTRIKE FROM HELL www.youtube.com/watch?v=EayVt-xUFMw
Suddenly the crowd noise had gone from raucous approval of violence to an almost eerie quiet state of concern, so loud and so brutal had been the impact of that knee. Larkin for her part slumped as if she was all but lifeless, her body folding into a sweaty heap, the fluttering of her eyelids and heaving of her chest the only visible movements. Craig Long looked stunned too, even more so when he realised the Stranger was just standing to watch rather than making any attempt to finish the match.
“Holy shyt Astrid!” he croaked, “Are you at least going to pin her? I need to get her some attention.” The champion glanced at him for a second, her expression almost seeming surprised. “No,” she answered simply, “not until she tells me where her ‘friends’ are. I will not permit them to interfere in my business.
Leaving the official to his confusion and concern White reached down, snatching another handful of red locks and using them to tug her challenger’s head up slightly. Her next move was enough to earn a few boos at the sheer vindictiveness, one arm swinging out and back to deliver a stinging but not quite full-force SLAPPP right into Harriet’s cheek. The sting brought a little more focus to the Auburn haired battler’s eyes, and a second seemed to have revived her further, Larkin’s eyes open but groggy, her body still only just stirring.
And yet, dazed as she was from the barrage of kneestrikes, Harriet still just about managed to push up onto all fours, staggering to leaden feet and reaching up to brush those auburn locks from her eyes. She had just about achieved this when Icelandic arms again reached out to ensnare her neck, Larkin letting out a pre-emptive groan as the Muay Thai clinch tightened like a steel trap around her. One hand dropped in an attempt to protect from yet more kneestrikes, but the Stranger seemed more keen to have her questions answered.
“Last time. Where are they.” The voice was surprisingly flat, although the night’s exertions had left Astrid’s breathing sharp and ragged. Larkin glanced up, meeting those grey green eyes, voice cracking as she stuttered “L..Lyra’s…” White leaned even closer, her face now barely an inch from the redhead’s, focused intently as Harriet croaked “Lyra is…really not your biggest problem.”
Her own leg was moving even as she spoke, swinging up between White’s on a collusion course with her center. Or at least that would have been the plan if the champion hadn’t moved even faster, hopping off her feet and tucking both knees up to her chin even as gravity dragged her back down again. Braced only on one already trembling leg there was nothing Larkin could do to prevent herself from being dragged along, her body pitching forwards until her chest crunched into those two bony joints, her lungs well and truly blown by the impromptu counter.
FEAR OF FALLING www.youtube.com/watch?v=WKCakk-95xE
Neither woman was left entirely unscathed by the desperation manoeuvre, White letting out a small but extremely high-pitched squeal at the impact on her already shredded left leg. But she still had a far better landing than Harriet, the challenger left panting and limp from the drop. Focused only on re-inflating her lungs, she put up little resistance as Astrid shifted that hurting gam out and looped it around the back of her victim’s head, her other shin sliding upwards to slot into place right in the hollow of the FLC enforcer’s throat. Shifting her grip slightly as Larkin realised her predicament and started to frantically buck, the Arctic Assassin leaned back and poured all her remaining resources into crushing her challenger’s windpipe.
WHITEOUT www.youtube.com/watch?v=BAonkay96xc
Astute observers at ringside might have been wondering just how well Astrid could use her patented choke given the treatment her knee had received over the course of tonight’s match. Sure enough there was a noticeable stiffness as she folded her legs up, and a grimace of pain across those usually emotionless features. But there was no sign that the discomfort had reduced the efficiency of the hold, Harriet’s face rapidly turning the same colour as her hair as she wriggled ineffectually against the shinbone constricting her throat.
Pretty quickly those awkward wriggles ceased again, Larkin abandoning her escape plan and instead bringing her one free hand up in an attempt to once again dig her nails into the back of that wounded knee. Working bling, it took her a few seconds to find her target, but her work was quickly rewarded when Astrid gave a hiss of pain and barked “Stop that!”, pouring the last of her remaining resources into squeezing the life out of the redhead.
By now Harriet’s face was puce, her legs limp on the canvas, But still that free hand worked, her claw biting deep into sensitive flesh and earning another hiss and a slight lessening of pressure. And then, inexorably, the force lessened again, White fighting a joint battle against fatigue and pain and somehow starting to feel the tide turning against her.
The increased oxygen seemed to be having he opposite impact on Harriet, her fingers probing with even more strength, legs starting to move again and scrabble for purchase, until finally her toes gripped the matting and she was able to push upwards, rolling the Stranger’s shoulders over to the matt. Craig Long had been in position since the start of the hold, waiting for a submission, and now he gave a quick check and shifted his focus, shouting “shoulders down” even as he started his count of…
ONE
TWO
TH…
Unable to hold back a screamed curse, White unlocked her legs and slid backwards, allowing the gasping redhead to slump face first onto the mat. She rolled onto her back, lungs heaving and rasping, while the champion got gingerly back to her feet. Astrid reached down, looking to drag the stubborn Hollow Girl up for one last big move. But instead she stood up sharply, spinning in her heel to face the ramp in perfect time with…
A friend in need’s a friend indeed
All eyes now turned to the entrance ramp, a chorus of boos mixing with an undercurrent of general joy at the prospect of further mayhem just as the match seemed to have reached it’s dénouement. At the center of the maelstrom Astrid White seemed to be almost pleased, her prediction of interference finally coming true. She dropped into a wary crouch, eyes scanning the stage.
Which meant that she didn’t keep an eye on her six. Rising like a kraken from a pool of sweat and pain, Harriet Larkin reached her feet, took two unsteady steps, and absolutely launched herself forwards. Her leg came up, boot slamming into the back of the Stranger’s cranium with explosive impact. White pitched forwards, the redhead almost landing on top of her as she followed through.
WASTELAND www.youtube.com/watch?v=vaA_4u_ANLI
Seconds passed, both women flat out in the ring. Astrid was face down, her arms and legs moving lethargically to get some sort of leverage. Larkin was on her back, hands cradling her head, lungs still heaving fit to burst. But her movements were much more purposeful, rolling to her knees then reaching over to grab a handful of blonde bob and another of white lycra.
White was pulled up to kneeling, the champion’s arms all but limp as they were forced up and behind her body. Underhook secured, Larkin tucked the Stranger’s head under her armpit and braced those legs for one final effort. The lift was neither as clean nor as effortless as it had been earlier, but Astrid was lifted regardless, hanging in the air for an instant before Harriet snapped to her back and DROVE the crown of the Icelander’s head down into that lightly covered plywood.
FALLS THE SHADOW www.youtube.com/watch?v=lFtX0wdLYgI
Running only on adrenaline and fumes, Harriet needed one more deep breath before she could manage what she dearly hoped was the final effort of the match. She reached over, rolling the devastated blonde onto her back with one hand and using the other to pull herself forwards. The pin was messy, no legs hooked or leverage, just one battered woman laying over another. But it was enough, the referee dropping to count…
ONE
TWO
THREE!
Craig Long knelt up and gestured to the timekeeper, the bells ring drowned out by boos, cheers, and general bedlam from the raucous FAWNatics. For her part Harriet didn’t’ seem to be especially jubilant, simply rolling off the (now former) champion and taking a few more heaving breaths. She only showed signs of getting up when the noise at ringside changed, followed by a familiar voice calling to her over the din.
“Coo-ee! I’m looking for my friend Harry new-belt!”
Lyra Faulk
’Nobody’
The new champion rolled to one side, glancing up with a grin at the sight of her ‘friends’ sudden appearance at ringside. Lyra Faulk was first up in the ring, scampering over and giving her partner a quick peck on the cheek and a ruffle of that already tousled and lank hair. It was their unknown companion who actually helped her up, the woman known as Nobody putting one arm around to support while Faulk raised up one hand, just in time for the announcer’s voice.
“Ladies and gentlemen, your winner by pinfall...AND NEW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION…HARRIET LARKIN!”
The jeers which greeted the announcement seemed to have little impact on the joy being expressed in the ring, at least by Lyra Faulk. Larkin also showed no sign of registering the disapproval, but her face was much sterner, turning and stepping purposely forward towards the figure of the former champion, still only just recovering her senses on the matt.
“Still haven’t got that bytch back for going after my eyes,” she growled, stepping forwards again until a restraining hand pulled her to a stop. She glanced round into Faulk’s earnest face.
“You’ll be seeing her again, darl,” she said lightly, “we all will. But we’ve got all we want for tonight.”
For just a second it seemed that Harriet might disagree, then she simply nodded and turned away, reaching out wordlessly to snatch her title from Craig Long’s offering arms. The gold belt was swung up onto her shoulder, its wearer taking one last look around and ending up again with her gaze firmly on Astrid White. This time her only movement was of one hand, middle finger raised, her message sent clearly as she turned, gratefully accepted the support from her colleagues, and made her way gingerly up the ramp with her shiny new toy over her shoulder.
Moaning Lisa Smile www.youtube.com/watch?v=z71df68qLp0
Flames lit up the arena, licking out from several concealed ‘throwers in the stage and down the entranceway. The sudden heat heralded the arrival of a statuesque redhead, swishing out from behind the curtain and striding off down the entranceway as if she could neither feel the heat nor see the naked flames bursting just a few feet away from her.
Harriet Larkin
For her second attempt at gold in her fledgling FAWN career Larkin had chosen a slight variation on her usual outfit, although usual probably wasn’t really the correct word. Her short pleated tartan skit was still there, short and flared enough to give more than a glimpse of a pair of red panties underneath, but her usual white tank had been switched for deep red, almost matching her hair. Those auburn locks fell in loose waves over her shoulders, while those long and sunkissed legs were bare except for a pair of red boxing boots.
Although several fans at ringside looked around in the expectation of seeing the redhead’s omnipresent friends in FlC, it appeared that she was flying solo for this evening. The more knowledgeable at ringside were immediately suspicious of this given the group’s history of surprise attacks, peering around the crowds in the hopes of identifying a ringer in their midst. But Larkin showed little awareness of this, simply ascending the steps, slipping into the ring, and stomping over to the corner with her gaze focused squarely back up the ramp.
“And her opponent. Please welcome…she is known as the Arctic Assassin, the Stranger, and she is the reigning FAWN INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION…ASTRID WHITE!”
Brennisteinn www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oc6zXSdYXm8
A pair of giant, hyper-realistic eyes opened up on the ‘tron just as a torrent of roaring bass was unleashed through the speakers. For a few moments there was nothing but mist swirling in the twilit stage, until an impossibly tall and slender looking figure strode out into the gladiatorial arena. Astrid White’s progress to the ring was usually measured and sedate, much like the woman herself, but tonight she seemed considerably more urgent, the longest legs in FAWN carrying her forward to the ring at an unusual pace.
ASTRID WHITE:
The champion had also eschewed her normal hooded robe, and the altered costume she had tried back at the last PPV. Instead she had returned to the midnight blue lycra shorts and sheer white halter, the technical fabric containing her modest curves but leaving acres of porcelain skin and those mesmerising pins on full show. White wore midnight blue boots to complete her look, while the title belt she was defending tonight was dragged behind her almost as an afterthought, an impression which was maintained when she simply dropped it at ringside and dashed forwards to slide under the rope and into the ring.
Sprinting forwards as soon as she was back to her feet, the Stranger’s long legs covered the canvas in moments as she dashed headlong in the direction of her opponent. Credit Larkin, she actually stepped forwards to meet the charging six-footer head on, but the sheer momentum sent her flying backwards, the pair crashing into the lightly-padded turnbuckles in a messy pile of limbs. It took both beauties a second to disentangle themselves, the pause allowing the crowd to roar their approval of an unexpectedly urgent start, and then Harriet found herself yanked upwards by her hair, only for OOOOF
One Icelandic knee pistoned up and buried into the redhead’s trim waist. Harriet was lifted upwards by the shot but was yanked back down again, the champion cupping both hands around her neck and yanking her forwards, right into another short and brutally stiff kneelift. Never the most technical of fighters, Larkin’s response to the expertly applied Muay Thai clinch was to drop her own arms and try to defend against those strikes, leaving her wide open when Astrid simply broke one half of her grip and scythed the point of her elbow right into the challenger’s temple.
Larkin instinctively swung away, her ears ringing from the blow, and found that she had nowhere to go, backed up as she was in the corner. And again she was wide open, this time as White took a half step back and leaped forwards, her Jumping Kneestrike connecting perfectly with the New Mexican’s chin! Harriet slumped backwards, dropping to a messy seat in the corner with the Stranger towering before her.
Astrid didn’t pause for an instant, stutter-stepping forwards and powering a short kick into the grounded challenger’s side. A second strike was headed right for her jaw until Larkin flung a last minute arm up, covering up as best she could while the other hand reached forwards in an attempt to deflect or even grasp the intruding boot. Her efforts seemed largely futile, the Stranger simply switching targets to pepper her ribs and thighs, her relentless accuracy only disrupted when Craig Long decided he had nagged enough and instead shoved himself forcibly in between the vengeful champion and her victim.
“Back off NOW!” he shouted. White looked pretty close to ignoring him, her eyes still flashing squarely at the ambushed FlC girl. But despite the aggressive start there was clearly still enough of the Stranger’s usual icy focus behind those eyes, the champion raising her hands wordlessly and taking a half step back but no more.
“Start the match.”
Long spun his head, initially surprised that he words had come from the floored challenger rather than the woman who had jumped her. Harriet was pulling herself gingerly back to her feet, stopping to sweep the messy strands of red form her eyes so she could look the referee right in his face. “I said start the match, pussy. Princess Elsa here had her shot. Now I want mine.” She pushed forwards, White stepping in to meet her, the pair both converging on a space currently occupied by an increasingly flustered-looking official.
“BACK!” He warned. Neither woman moved, eyes locked on each other, until Larkin brought both arms up to give a big shove to the taller woman. Astrid took a step back and would have swarmed straight back in if it wasn’t for the referee’s outreached hands. “I said BACK!” he yelled, “back off now or I’m throwing this whole thing out and getting security to drag you away.” The threat of having to abandon their fight seemed to be just enough to mollify both women, if only for a few seconds, White taking another half-step back while Larkin simply leaned, lolling back into her corner and smoothing out her attire after the hasty opening.
Giving both protagonists one last reproachful glance, the referee decided that this was probably the best opening he was going to get and gestured to the timekeeper, the sound of the opening bell ringing out a few moments later. Long was already backpedalling away from the presumed danger zone but in fact the warring pair both held their ground, Larkin glaring balefully at the champion while Astrid stayed stone-still.
“Where are the others?” she asked quietly. If Harriet was surprised by the question she didn’t show it, a humourless grin spreading across her lips as she answered.
“You mean my friends? I don’t know honey, I’m sure they’re around somewhere. You really don’t need to worry about them. Not when you should be worrying about me.” The redhead pushed languidly back up to her full height, stepping out of the corner with her hands raised loosely. Astrid still didn’t move, staring searchingly at her challenger for a few heartbeats. “You will tell me where they are,” she promised, slipping forwards into the rapidly narrowing space.
For their second skirmish the two gladiators both seemed to be a little more cagey, Harriet holding a wary crouch while the Stranger circled around her. One long leg swung out, looking to sweep the redhead’s knee and swishing by as Larkin lifted her leg out of the way. She spun immediately, one arm cocked and ready to smash into the champion’s face, but before she could do so another Icelandic knee slammed up into her stomach.
Surging forwards to follow up her success, the Arctic Assassin swung an elbow of her own up into her challenger’s collarbone, the dull thud audible over the crowd, before wrapping both arms around the shorter woman’s torso. Larkin had no chance to counter as she was lifted bodily up, over, and DOWN into the canvas covered plywood.
SIDE BELLY-BELLY SUPLEX www.youtube.com/watch?v=CXRJ0dS1Pdk
Astrid landed alongside her challenger, rolling to her side and shuffling into a kneeling mount over the winded redhead. She raised one hand and hammered it down, clunking into Harriet’s jawbone even as she raised her hands to defend her face. “Where are the others?” she asked, dropping a hammerfist again, this time clunking into a defending forearm. “Where are the others?” Another hammerfist dropped, this time slamming into the crease of her cleavage, drawing a hiss of pain. “Where are the others?” Another, slamming into a forearm again, and another, and another, the assault slowing a little as Larkin did her best to cover as many targets as possible.
“They might be up your ass,” she called from behind her guarding forearms, “I’ll ram your head up there to find out.” The champion seemed particularly unimpressed with the insolence, slamming one last hammerfist down and then shifting her body up so that one knee pressed down with all her weight right on the base of the Hollow Girl’s throat. “Where are they?” she hissed, “you will tell me one way or UFF.”
Uncomfortable as it might have been for Harriet to have a knee on her throat, she was quick to take advantage of the relative lack of balance the position afforded to the blonde. One big shove was enough to send her sprawling sideways, Astrid slumping down into an untidy heap on the mat. She was immediately scrabbling to get herself back vertical, but had only made it to all fours when Harriet grabbed one ankle and yanked it backwards, sending her face down once again. Things quickly got more precarious for the champion when Larkin stood up and spun 180 degrees, hauling upwards and leaning in to secure a high, tight and nasty Half Crab.
HALF BOSTON CRAB www.youtube.com/watch?v=JKqy2T-QFBU&
Taking a second to shift her weight even further in and enjoy the feeling of being on offence for the first time that evening, Harriet glanced down at the squirming champion and then over at Craig Long, hovering attentively nearby. “Ask her if she quits,” she ordered the referee, who was quick to comply. All he received in return was a glare and a waggle of her finger, the official turning back to an apparently dissatisfied Hollow Girl.
“Ask her if she quits!” she demanded again. Long looked nonplussed, but that didn’t stop the demands. “Ask her! Ask her. Aaaaasskkkk heeeeerrrr!” The official’s bemusement had become full-o confusion by this point, replaced with annoyance when Larkin’s mock anger turned into a sneer. “Annoying, isn’t it?” she asked, Astrid responding with a growl and a wriggle which wasn’t quite enough to detach the redhead’s iron grip. “I will not submit to you,” she said with all the sternness she could muster while her torso was being forcibly pressed into the mat.
Remarkably her words earned a little relief, Harriet standing up a little and lessening the pressure as she turned sideways slightly. The relief was extremely brief though as the FlC star raised one boot and brought it jabbing down, first into the taut curve of the champion’s glute and then swinging sideways in short’n’dirty kicks to the back of the knee. “I don’t care whether you submit, honey. All I care about right now is kicking your scrawny ass until all the arrogance has bled out.” To illustrate her point she tightened her grip again and yanked up, pulling most of the Icelander’s long body up before dropping forwards and ramming the point of that knee right into the barely-covered plywood.
Unable to prevent a shriek from escaping her lips, the champion rolled hurriedly over on to her back and reached down to rub at that knee. She didn’t manage to reach it though, Larkin moving with her and kneeling across the caught limb to pin it to the mat. The redhead reached over and grasped Astrid’s other knee, pushing forwards to force a second leg down to the matting. Astrid’s flexibility was enough to avoid significant pain from the enforced split, but she was still caught uncomfortably on the canvas, lacking the leverage to force the heavier woman off.
She quickly came to regret this as Harriet’s free hand came into play, her fingers worming into the pit of one pinned knee and jabbing roughly into the pliable flesh hidden there. A second involuntary yelp came from the champion, the pain urgent enough to make White reach down in vain. When this proved futile she crunched up her core, the awkward situp finally getting her close enough to shove the redhead off. She ended up in a seat, hands out to rub furiously at her new aches, eyes still glaring daggers up at Harriet.
Or at least she was until the redhead stepped forward and delivered a stomp right down between those splayed legs into the center of her trunks! White let out a sob of hurt and rage, hands flying between her thighs, left wide open as Harriet slammed a short Soccer Kick into her sternum which sent the blonde prone again. Larkin dropped to her knees over the splayed blonde, leaning down and rubbing one forearm roughly into that photogenic face. Whether she intended it or not she had Astrid’s shoulders pinned to the matt, Craig Long dropping to count
ONE
TWO
White shoved a shoulder up, but the pin had been broken anyway, the Hollow Girl sitting up on her haunches and glaring at the official. “Count all you want dickhead, I’m not finishing this until I’m readGURKH!”
Keen to regain some initiative, the Stranger crunched her core again and sat up far enough to grab two big handfuls of auburn locks, using them to yank the challenger’s head down and loop one arm around. The sudden makeshift Guillotine Choke was quite sunk in as deep as Astrid might have liked, but the Santa Fe girl’s efforts to extricate herself left her distracted enough for the champion to wriggle out from beneath her.
Holding tight to her trap, White clambered back up to her considerable height, pulling the challenger up with her. As soon as her feet were set she hauled up further, this time lifting her burden up to about the 2 position before dropping back down again and falling to her knees. Harriet was dumped into the floor chest-first, her face bouncing off the rough canvas, body coming to rest in a painful quiver.
GOURDBUSTER www.youtube.com/watch?v=Isxbrb31koE
Pushing up to her knees a little to fast for her still swimming head, Harriet almost lost her balance, rolling to one side and then her back before sitting up. She might have been attempting to get further up to vertical, but that option was taken away from her by the Arctic Assassin, swooping in from behind and wrapping the longest legs in FAWN around the back of her noggin. White lay gently back down, looping one leg around and tucking it behind the other to bring a full-pressure squeeze on Larkin’s already hurting skull.
FIGURE FOUR HEADSCISSORS www.youtube.com/watch?v=uRHkTmZ4gOY
“Where are the others?” she asked, her voice calm despite the strain of trying to pop her challenger’s skull open. Harriet didn’t respond; in truth it wasn’t clear if she could with those silken-steel pins clamped around her head. But she did manage to raise two fingers, the middle one on each hand, aimed squarely back up at the Stranger.
Rewarded for her display with nothing but an even more vicious squeeze of those python calves, Harriet set her fingers to different work, flattening her hands out and working to worm her fingers into any gaps in the vice around her jaw. It was slow work, especially with Craig Long buzzing around concernedly, but after about thirty seconds she was able to dig both sets of nails once more into the pliable flesh at the back of White’s knees. The champion let out a hiss of annoyance, but her retribution was far more severe, reaching one free hand down and raking her own nails right over the ensnared redhead’s eyes!
“Where are the others?” Of course Larkin had closed her eyes, the only real protective measure she had, but she couldn’t help but let out a wail as the Stranger’s thumb pressed down on those shut lids with worrying force. “Tell me!” Astrid barked, but her demands were quickly superseded by those of Craig Long, the official back to threatening again after seeing his champion’s ocular assault.
“Stay off the eyes, White! This is your last warning!” he shouted, leaning up so there was no way the blonde could claim to not have heard. Despite this Astrid still didn’t seem to register the order, pausing the work of her fingers but baring down even harder in an effort to find out whether the Hollow Girl’s head really lived up to her nickname. The referee’s count had reached ‘FOUR’ before she finally released, her legs unlocking as Larkin slumped once again to the canvas.
Blood rushing in her ears, face redden to almost purple from that lethal pressure, Harriet still didn’t stay down for more than a few seconds, rolling to all fours and getting slightly unsteadily to her feet. She was greeted there by the towering Stranger, Astrid once again lopping around behind that auburn mane and pulling her forward into the oh-so-dangerous Muay Thai clutch.
“Where are the others?” She asked, one knee flying upwards again. Harriet just about managed to get her hands down in time, shoving downwards to ward the blow off. “Where are theENGG TAWDRY SHYTnnnn”. Having heard the question quite enough in the preceding minutes, the FlC girl tried a new tactic to avoid it by swinging her own foot up and punting the blonde right up between her thighs! The Muay Thai clutch disintegrated, white swaying down and away from the hateful strike.
Around the arena a fair few boos mixed with the general roars of approval at the brutality on show. White’s face had gone the colour of her surname, but she was given no reprieve as her tormentor slipped behind and grabbed the waistband of her togs, The Icelander clearly realised what was coming, trying to scamper away, but instead she was left up on her tiptoes as Harriet turned her shorts into a rapidly vanishing thong courtesy of a vicious lifted wedgie!
“You want to get nasty, bytch?” Harriet snarled. Astrid was either unable or unwilling to answer, preoccupied with trying to regain control of her own treacherous togs, so the Hollow Girl answered her own question. “Lyra says you like to make rules, so here’s one for you. Touch my eyes again and I’m going to reach into your little panties and rip you apart from the inside out.”
Harriet didn’t seem interested in finding out whether her promise had been understood. Instead she broke one half of her tight grip on those midnight blue shorts and looped an arm over the hurt champion’s shoulder, clamping down with her bicep and setting her feet to whip White over into a snap Suplex. The impact of the six-footer snapping into the matting was enough to leave the ring a quiver, but Larkin wasn’t resting on her laurels, rolling right back up with her tog grip still in place and whipping the bigger woman over for a second Snap Suplex. Still she maintained that handful of twisted-up trunks, this time bending her back and hauling Astrid up, up to vertical and holding the destroyer-class blonde there for several seconds, arrow straight. Finally she allowed gravity to reclaim the champion, dropping to her back and sending Astrid down into a THUMPING collusion with the lightly covered wood floor.
WEDGIE VERTICAL SUPLEX www.youtube.com/watch?v=EkxIyK3y5SU
Arcing her spine up as if the canvas was electrified, White split her efforts between massaging her vertebrae and trying to adjust her treacherous bottoms into a less invasive alignment. Her efforts in this were quickly thwarted when Larkin reclaimed her vile grip, using the trunks and a handful of white lycra top to drag the blonde up wards. Astrid had a second or two to get her feet underneath her before she was off, the Hollow Girl leading her on a sort of enforced jog until she was tossed bodily forwards, thrown between the bottom and middle turnbuckles to THUMP into the steel ring post.
The champion was left suspended in that gap, head lolling down, knees looking wobbly on the canvas. They didn’t stay there for long, Larkin reaching down to grab the same leg she had targeted all match, wrapping the stem tight around the bottom rope. White realised her predicament, reaching down to free her trapped pin, only for her hands to recoil in shock and pain as the big redhead kicked out, crunching the trapped kneecap between the toe of her boot and the unforgiving steel.
“I was in a few fights with a chick called Lenore last year,” Harriet informed the writhing blonde. “Got scared I was going to kick her too hard, so she went after my knee. Just like this.” Another short kick, and another shriek, Astrid trying to pull her leg away but unable to pull against the taut cable. “Hurts, doesn’t it?” Larkin asked, firing out a third shot to emphasise her point. She probably would have gone further if it wasn’t for Craig Long.
“Get her out of the ropes Larkin, I’m not going to warn you again!” he barked. Harriet turned to him, hands up in mock supplication, but the official was too experienced not to see the nasty little mule kick she swung out, a final spike of pain in that brutalised knee. “Get away!” He demanded, bending forwards to untwist the cable and finally allow Astrid to massage at the pain in her tenderised joint.
“Are you able to continue Astrid?” Long asked quietly. It took the Stranger a second to respond, preoccupied as she was with tending to her aches, but her eyes were deadly serious when she turned to face him. “Yes,” she said, voice deadpan, “Your services will not be required yet. They may be soon.”
Nodding, the referee backed off, keeping himself loosely between the two battlers as White made her way gingerly to her feet. Harriet’s face had taken on an almost hungry look, the Hollow Girl sweeping forwards as soon as her path was clear and singing a big SLAP right into the hurting champ’s face. Another followed rapidly behind, then a big shove to send the Icelander back to the ropes while Harriet sprinted off to their opposite side. She turned at full pace, ready to deliver even more pain, and instead turned right into a Flying Knee from the vengeful champion.
FLYING BICYCLE KNEE www.youtube.com/watch?v=4096ZsQIhg0
For a second or two there was confusion from the FAWNatics, most trying to work out just how the Stranger had gone from lame hobbling to such an athletic sprint. The keenest observers might have noticed that White had jumped off her ‘wrong’ leg to deliver the momentum-shifting strike, and that her standing leg had collapsed as she landed. But most were far too busy roaring in surprise and appreciation to pay that close attention.
Despite the clamour there was no acknowledgement of that spike in noise from Astrid, or indeed anything to show that she had even noticed. Instead she was clambering gingerly back to her feet, eyes still focused on the stunned figure of her challenger. Harriet looked as if she had been knocked loopy by the strike, lolling against the ropes as if there was little else to keep her vertical. And pretty quickly there wasn’t, White grabbing one arm and sweeping her legs all in one movement to leave the redhead kneeling on the mat.
Reaching out tiredly, the Arctic Assassin gathered up her prey’s other arm and pulled both out in front, Larkin’s arms spread as if ready to receive some divine intervention. Instead all she received was that ‘good’ knee yet again, Astrid stepping back and then diving forwards to THUNK her knee into the Santa Fe girl’s face!
KNEESTRIKE FROM HELL www.youtube.com/watch?v=EayVt-xUFMw
Suddenly the crowd noise had gone from raucous approval of violence to an almost eerie quiet state of concern, so loud and so brutal had been the impact of that knee. Larkin for her part slumped as if she was all but lifeless, her body folding into a sweaty heap, the fluttering of her eyelids and heaving of her chest the only visible movements. Craig Long looked stunned too, even more so when he realised the Stranger was just standing to watch rather than making any attempt to finish the match.
“Holy shyt Astrid!” he croaked, “Are you at least going to pin her? I need to get her some attention.” The champion glanced at him for a second, her expression almost seeming surprised. “No,” she answered simply, “not until she tells me where her ‘friends’ are. I will not permit them to interfere in my business.
Leaving the official to his confusion and concern White reached down, snatching another handful of red locks and using them to tug her challenger’s head up slightly. Her next move was enough to earn a few boos at the sheer vindictiveness, one arm swinging out and back to deliver a stinging but not quite full-force SLAPPP right into Harriet’s cheek. The sting brought a little more focus to the Auburn haired battler’s eyes, and a second seemed to have revived her further, Larkin’s eyes open but groggy, her body still only just stirring.
And yet, dazed as she was from the barrage of kneestrikes, Harriet still just about managed to push up onto all fours, staggering to leaden feet and reaching up to brush those auburn locks from her eyes. She had just about achieved this when Icelandic arms again reached out to ensnare her neck, Larkin letting out a pre-emptive groan as the Muay Thai clinch tightened like a steel trap around her. One hand dropped in an attempt to protect from yet more kneestrikes, but the Stranger seemed more keen to have her questions answered.
“Last time. Where are they.” The voice was surprisingly flat, although the night’s exertions had left Astrid’s breathing sharp and ragged. Larkin glanced up, meeting those grey green eyes, voice cracking as she stuttered “L..Lyra’s…” White leaned even closer, her face now barely an inch from the redhead’s, focused intently as Harriet croaked “Lyra is…really not your biggest problem.”
Her own leg was moving even as she spoke, swinging up between White’s on a collusion course with her center. Or at least that would have been the plan if the champion hadn’t moved even faster, hopping off her feet and tucking both knees up to her chin even as gravity dragged her back down again. Braced only on one already trembling leg there was nothing Larkin could do to prevent herself from being dragged along, her body pitching forwards until her chest crunched into those two bony joints, her lungs well and truly blown by the impromptu counter.
FEAR OF FALLING www.youtube.com/watch?v=WKCakk-95xE
Neither woman was left entirely unscathed by the desperation manoeuvre, White letting out a small but extremely high-pitched squeal at the impact on her already shredded left leg. But she still had a far better landing than Harriet, the challenger left panting and limp from the drop. Focused only on re-inflating her lungs, she put up little resistance as Astrid shifted that hurting gam out and looped it around the back of her victim’s head, her other shin sliding upwards to slot into place right in the hollow of the FLC enforcer’s throat. Shifting her grip slightly as Larkin realised her predicament and started to frantically buck, the Arctic Assassin leaned back and poured all her remaining resources into crushing her challenger’s windpipe.
WHITEOUT www.youtube.com/watch?v=BAonkay96xc
Astute observers at ringside might have been wondering just how well Astrid could use her patented choke given the treatment her knee had received over the course of tonight’s match. Sure enough there was a noticeable stiffness as she folded her legs up, and a grimace of pain across those usually emotionless features. But there was no sign that the discomfort had reduced the efficiency of the hold, Harriet’s face rapidly turning the same colour as her hair as she wriggled ineffectually against the shinbone constricting her throat.
Pretty quickly those awkward wriggles ceased again, Larkin abandoning her escape plan and instead bringing her one free hand up in an attempt to once again dig her nails into the back of that wounded knee. Working bling, it took her a few seconds to find her target, but her work was quickly rewarded when Astrid gave a hiss of pain and barked “Stop that!”, pouring the last of her remaining resources into squeezing the life out of the redhead.
By now Harriet’s face was puce, her legs limp on the canvas, But still that free hand worked, her claw biting deep into sensitive flesh and earning another hiss and a slight lessening of pressure. And then, inexorably, the force lessened again, White fighting a joint battle against fatigue and pain and somehow starting to feel the tide turning against her.
The increased oxygen seemed to be having he opposite impact on Harriet, her fingers probing with even more strength, legs starting to move again and scrabble for purchase, until finally her toes gripped the matting and she was able to push upwards, rolling the Stranger’s shoulders over to the matt. Craig Long had been in position since the start of the hold, waiting for a submission, and now he gave a quick check and shifted his focus, shouting “shoulders down” even as he started his count of…
ONE
TWO
TH…
Unable to hold back a screamed curse, White unlocked her legs and slid backwards, allowing the gasping redhead to slump face first onto the mat. She rolled onto her back, lungs heaving and rasping, while the champion got gingerly back to her feet. Astrid reached down, looking to drag the stubborn Hollow Girl up for one last big move. But instead she stood up sharply, spinning in her heel to face the ramp in perfect time with…
A friend in need’s a friend indeed
All eyes now turned to the entrance ramp, a chorus of boos mixing with an undercurrent of general joy at the prospect of further mayhem just as the match seemed to have reached it’s dénouement. At the center of the maelstrom Astrid White seemed to be almost pleased, her prediction of interference finally coming true. She dropped into a wary crouch, eyes scanning the stage.
Which meant that she didn’t keep an eye on her six. Rising like a kraken from a pool of sweat and pain, Harriet Larkin reached her feet, took two unsteady steps, and absolutely launched herself forwards. Her leg came up, boot slamming into the back of the Stranger’s cranium with explosive impact. White pitched forwards, the redhead almost landing on top of her as she followed through.
WASTELAND www.youtube.com/watch?v=vaA_4u_ANLI
Seconds passed, both women flat out in the ring. Astrid was face down, her arms and legs moving lethargically to get some sort of leverage. Larkin was on her back, hands cradling her head, lungs still heaving fit to burst. But her movements were much more purposeful, rolling to her knees then reaching over to grab a handful of blonde bob and another of white lycra.
White was pulled up to kneeling, the champion’s arms all but limp as they were forced up and behind her body. Underhook secured, Larkin tucked the Stranger’s head under her armpit and braced those legs for one final effort. The lift was neither as clean nor as effortless as it had been earlier, but Astrid was lifted regardless, hanging in the air for an instant before Harriet snapped to her back and DROVE the crown of the Icelander’s head down into that lightly covered plywood.
FALLS THE SHADOW www.youtube.com/watch?v=lFtX0wdLYgI
Running only on adrenaline and fumes, Harriet needed one more deep breath before she could manage what she dearly hoped was the final effort of the match. She reached over, rolling the devastated blonde onto her back with one hand and using the other to pull herself forwards. The pin was messy, no legs hooked or leverage, just one battered woman laying over another. But it was enough, the referee dropping to count…
ONE
TWO
THREE!
Craig Long knelt up and gestured to the timekeeper, the bells ring drowned out by boos, cheers, and general bedlam from the raucous FAWNatics. For her part Harriet didn’t’ seem to be especially jubilant, simply rolling off the (now former) champion and taking a few more heaving breaths. She only showed signs of getting up when the noise at ringside changed, followed by a familiar voice calling to her over the din.
“Coo-ee! I’m looking for my friend Harry new-belt!”
Lyra Faulk
’Nobody’
The new champion rolled to one side, glancing up with a grin at the sight of her ‘friends’ sudden appearance at ringside. Lyra Faulk was first up in the ring, scampering over and giving her partner a quick peck on the cheek and a ruffle of that already tousled and lank hair. It was their unknown companion who actually helped her up, the woman known as Nobody putting one arm around to support while Faulk raised up one hand, just in time for the announcer’s voice.
“Ladies and gentlemen, your winner by pinfall...AND NEW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION…HARRIET LARKIN!”
The jeers which greeted the announcement seemed to have little impact on the joy being expressed in the ring, at least by Lyra Faulk. Larkin also showed no sign of registering the disapproval, but her face was much sterner, turning and stepping purposely forward towards the figure of the former champion, still only just recovering her senses on the matt.
“Still haven’t got that bytch back for going after my eyes,” she growled, stepping forwards again until a restraining hand pulled her to a stop. She glanced round into Faulk’s earnest face.
“You’ll be seeing her again, darl,” she said lightly, “we all will. But we’ve got all we want for tonight.”
For just a second it seemed that Harriet might disagree, then she simply nodded and turned away, reaching out wordlessly to snatch her title from Craig Long’s offering arms. The gold belt was swung up onto her shoulder, its wearer taking one last look around and ending up again with her gaze firmly on Astrid White. This time her only movement was of one hand, middle finger raised, her message sent clearly as she turned, gratefully accepted the support from her colleagues, and made her way gingerly up the ramp with her shiny new toy over her shoulder.