Post by hawkeye on Nov 7, 2021 23:42:09 GMT
The Announcer checked his notes one more time, then tucked them back into his coat pocket and raised the mic. “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall with a thirty minute time limit and will be contested in the shadow of the Crimson Throne! If you would please direct your attention to the stage…” He gestured toward a corner at the far right of the stage where the gloom was promptly dispelled by the activation of a well-placed spotlight.
Concerned murmurs from the Cellar Dwellers as the took in this latest denizen of the Madhouse. Looking like the disowned offspring of a rococo armchair and a nineteen fifties era electric chair, the Crimson Throne was all dark, rough-hewn wood, exposed bolts, dark red cushions and perhaps most distressing of all, heavy leather straps at both armrests, a single longer strap down low suitable for controlling the ankles and one more hanging from the right side of the headrest just about jaw level.
After allowing the audience several seconds of silent perusal, the Announcer went on. “This match has no pin-falls, submissions, knock outs, count outs or disqualifications. The only way for a competitor to win requires her to subdue her opponent, strap her to the Crimson Throne and then… throw the switch.” Another spotlight clanked on and there was the switch, a rusty, oversized affair that suggested all sorts of unpleasant scenarios. “As a final stipulation, both competitors have agreed that the loser of this match will remain trapped on the Crimson Throne for the duration of All Hallows Evil.”
Another pause from the Announcer, his mouth crimping as if he tasted something bitter. But when he spoke again he sounded more like himself. “Introducing first, hailing from Denver, Colorado she stands at five feet eight inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred and forty-three pounds. They call her the Peacekeeper, the BFG and the Camouflage Crusher! This is the One Woman Army… BECKY CLAYTON!”
‘White Flag’ stomped through the speakers to ensure everyone was on their feet before the Mother of all (blonde)Bombshells hit the scene.
WHITE FLAG:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=RWzZeA2GMsk
Take a hit, shoot me down, shoot me down
I won't ever hit the ground, hit the ground
Playing dead, I'll never do
Gotta keep an eye on you
Patience is wearing thin, paper thin
Promises broke again, what a sin
But it only feeds my energy
So don't expect no sympathy
Smoke, fire, it's all going up
Don't you know I ain't afraid to shed a little blood?
Smoke, fire, flares are going up, flares are going up!
BECKY CLAYTON:
The chorus started in time with Clayton’s arrival, the hardbody battler brushed through the curtain to lay claim to the center of the stage. Bex looked to be in championship shape both physically and mentally and why shouldn’t she? The Camouflage Crusher had knotted her series with Adelaide during their last encounter and in so doing handed the Queen of Nightmares her first loss since her return more than a year prior.
Clayton’s confident grin suggested she hadn’t forgotten the domineering seat she’d taken on Brewster’s noggin and if it slipped anyone else’s mind she made sure to refresh their memory by swatting her backside with both hands before treating the Howling Commandos to a brawny double bicep flex. For tonight’s mop-up mission the former FAWN World Champion sported a green & black camouflage two-piece with tie-sided bottoms and an impossible to ignore ladder / double helix of lycra that ran from the top of her waistband all the way to the southern border of her low-cut sports bra. The gear was completed with dark green pads, black boots and a few wraps of matte black wrist-tape.
Eyes drawn to the hulk of the Crimson Throne, Becky scowled, then hardened her expression and started toward the ring. The Cellar Dwellers reached out to offer their support and the blonde extended her own hands in return, though she never once deviated from her path to the squared circle. Breaking into a jog at the foot of the ramp, Clayton slid under the bottom rope and popped to her feet before heading to camera side to offer everyone at home a brisk salute.
She’d just settled into the corner on the far side of the ring when Senior Official Nick Castle came over to check on her pads and boots. “You ready for this, Becky?”
“To pound Adelaide into a red paste, then strap her into… whatever the hell that is? Yeah Nick, I think I am.”
Castle nodded approval of the final check, though his face remained troubled. “That makes one of us, at least.”
“And introducing her opponent, being accompanied to the ring by Sierra Mist, she hails from Oxrun Station, Connecticut, stands five feet six inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred and twenty-nine pounds, she is the Weeping Angel… ADELAIDE BREWSTER!”
Troubled by the mere sound of that name, those assembled for All Hallows Evil voiced their displeasure when the speakers flowed into the ominous synth beat at the heart of Harlo’s ‘You Might Be The Killer.’ With it came a departure of the lights, gloom reigning in the Madhouse basement until a series of spotlights raced from the ring to the stage in a pattern quite reminiscent of a racing pulse.
YOU MIGHT BE THE KILLER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=OIQ36Q3SSeY
I was on the hunt for blood
You were feeling lost in love
All it took was just one look and you were into me
I wish that i could cut you free
But you're already in too deep
You feel the curiosity of what we could be
SIERRA MIST:
A figure appeared out of the dark beside the Crimson Throne, not the Sanguinaire but her harbinger (and bipedal snack machine), the disgraced medical student Sierra Mist. Seemingly unconcerned by the sounds, lights or surroundings, Mist reached up and undid the knot of the dark red scarf at her throat, then pulled it away to reveal signs of a earlier feeding.
Baby if it's on don't hesitate
I promise you I'll be your best mistake
You found me for a reason, call it fate
'Cause it's feeling great
The night's about to get real
We're going in for the kill
This is power, it's not cold hearted
And we're just getting started
The lights went out again and when they returned Adelaide was directly behind Sierra, her face lowered to the brunette’s neck for a little pre-match boost. Sated for the moment, Brewster circled around in front of the little brunette and ‘PFWOOOOSHED!’ a cloud of red skyward as she started down the aisle.
ADELAIDE BREWSTER:
For this ritual sacrifice conveniently disguised as a contest of professional wrestling, the Weeping Angel wore a stygian black two-piece done in crushed velvet that showed off the power in her hips and shoulders in almost agonizing detail. The look was accented with a clunky silver belt complete with a buckle done up as a snarling wolf’s head and matching black boots and pads.
Reaching the ring quickly without a single glance at the unworthy meat gathered ‘round the killing floor, Adelaide stopped a few steps shy of the apron and held her ground while Sierra took point in climbing onto the apron. Turning to face the Daughter of Darkness, Mist sat on the middle rope and pushed down while using one hand to push the top rope up. Her free hand she extended to Adelaide, then swept toward the squared circle. “As if you need an invitation. Here of all places.” “What can I say? I like to stand on tradition.” Brewster smirked as she sprang onto the apron and swept through the strands to take up residence in the center of the ring. A second plume of mist stippled the canvas with red several seconds before Nick hurried over to complete the second half of the final inspection. As if she’d keep the instruments of Clayton’s demise in her knee pads or boots. If Castle wanted to know how she planned to end the chattel… all she had to do was smile.
Knowing it’d be impossible get his charges attention when they were already staring daggers at each other, Nick Castle still took a moment inform them of a single important detail. “Ladies, I know this is No Disqualification so I can’t make you follow my commands, but for the sake of your careers and your health, I hope you’ll give me some consideration if I say you’re going too far.”
Adelaide smiled, though she didn’t take her eyes off Becky. “I’m afraid that’s entirely up to my opponent, Castle. We could end this without violence if she’d allow me to escort her to the Crimson Throne.”
“You’re the only one taking a seat tonight, Brewster.” the Camouflage Crusher countered. “I’d ask if you want to go quietly, but I’m sure you’d prefer kicking and screaming.”
The Queen of Nightmares stepped closer and Becky matched her, the rivals brazenly chesting up while Castle cleared off to a prudent distance. “The kicking and screaming will come much earlier in the festivities.” Brewster promised. “You won’t do more than whimper when I finally strap you NNNGGHH!”
Becky smashed a Headbutt into the bridge of Adelaide’s nose, much to the delight of the Cellar Dwellers! “I hope you scream all the way up the ramp, honeybunch!” the blonde snarled as Brewster reeled and Castle called for the bell. “I hope you’re still screaming when I OOOFFFHH!”
Adelaide shot low, wrapped both arms around her opponent’s thighs and dumped her to the mat! Mounting Clayton’s waist immediately thereafter, Brewster buried a hand in Becky’s hair, yanked her head up and then bounced it once, twice, three times! Still latched onto the blonde’s long locks, Adelaide gave her noggin a rough shake before she flattened her free hand into a paddle and slapped Clayton’s cheek at least half a dozen times.
“Screaming is your purview, chattel.” the Sanguinaire chided as she pointed an imperious finger at her stunned adversary. “I’m here to revel in your slaughter. To cackle as you drown in a sea of blood and shaMMOOOOWWWW!”
Becky grabbed hold of Adelaide’s encroaching wrist and chomped down on her index finger like she wanted to take it off at the second knuckle! Brewster reared back without actually giving up her perch, so Clayton bucked her hips to reverse their positions, at least mostly. She couldn’t scramble into a full mount before Adelaide crossed her ankles to put serious pressure on the blonde’s waist with a snug Bodyscissors. Bex grimaced, spat out the brunette’s finger and answered the earlier slap with a couple of her own.
“That all you got, Brewster? Weren’t you going to make me scream?”
Rather than wait for an answer, she blasted a pair of Hammer Punches into the other wrestler’s forehead, then curled her hands into talons and ‘SMECKED’ them down on Brewster’s breasts! The Howling Commandos lived up to their nickname at this catty display from their heroine and Adelaide did too, though her tone was considerably different. Outrage did not equate to helplessness however and it was a matter of mere heartbeats before the brunette dragged her claws down the blonde’s décolletage en route to applying her own double claw!
“I’ll make you scream whenever it pleases me to do so, chattel.” Brewster explained as she gouged and tugged on her opponent’s bounty. “I could leave you hoarse in five minutes or less, but I’d prefer to let your precious fans hear you blubber and sob when I tie you to the CrimsSSSGGHHH!”
Becky responded with another white-knuckle squeeze only to relinquish her grip for a stiff backhand across the brunette’s jaw. The grip on her own curves loosened, so she swatted them away, then pressed her hands to the insides of Brewster’s knees and pushed down so she could fight free of the Scissors. Scrambling up into a rough seat on Adelaide’s chest, Becky framed the brunette’s head between her thighs to ensure she couldn’t turn away when she began to unload punch after punch into Brewster’s defenseless pate! Such a closed fist assault would’ve drawn an immediate warning from Nick under usual circumstances, but tonight he could only watch along with the rest of the FAWNatics while Clayton did her damndest to put a whole slew of fresh dents in the brunette’s hairline.
Outside of Adelaide and Senior Official (who kept his face carefully neutral) the only soul in the arena seemingly displeased by Becky’s efforts was Sierra Mist, who grew more and more grave as the Peacekeeper’s fist continued to rain down. Finally she could take no more and sprang onto the apron. “HEY!” she barked at Clayton. “Get your unworthy hands off her, chattel!”
Bex paused in her work, looked up and smirked when she saw the former medical student. “The lumps I’m raising say I’m plenty worthy, honeybunch. But if want me to stop you’re welcome to climb through those ropes and--”
Roars of surprised delight from those assembled when Mist stepped over the middle strand en route to take Becky up on her offer!
Pressing a palm to Adelaide’s forehead to keep her under control, Clayton’s amusement gave way to steely resolve. “Watch your step, Mist.” she warned. “You stick your nose in my business, you’re liable to get it shot ofFFOOOOWWWW!”
Still pinned snug beneath the Destroyer, Adelaide twisted her head to one side and sank her teeth into the meat of Becky’s right thigh! The former World Champ popped to her feet and in an instant that proved quite telling, she raised her right foot high and brought it down square on Brewster’s fa--NO!
The Daughter of Darkness rolled clear with a whisper to spare, scrambled to all fours and-- “OOOOFFFHHH!” Becky lunged and went low, the powerhouse leading with her knee to THWHUMP a broadside shot into her rival’s flank! Adelaide tumbled away from the blow, in fact she might’ve made it to the bottom rope if the big blonde hadn’t rushed after and snatched a handful of hair!
“Where do you think you’re going?” she yanked Brewster’s noggin up and warmed her cheek with a few more slaps. “Your throne is this way, your majesty.”
“Muuuuhh… my throne greets you from the mirror each morning, chatteLLLNNNGGGHH!”
Clayton bounced the brunette’s skull against the mat, then clamped down on her ears and gave them a painful twist to accelerate her return to verticality. A Kneelift to the midsection kept Brewster nice and wheezy while allowing the BFG to switch over to a controlling grip on the back of her rival’s neck. “You see that ugly thing?” she pointed at the looming bulk of the Crimson Throne as she gave the brunette a rough shake. “That’s where we’re going. That’s where you’re going to spend the rest of the night!”
Strengthening her grip with a handful of Adelaide’s waistband, Clayton rushed the edge of the ring and spun as she did so to ensure Brewster had the most momentum possible when she sailed over the stran-- “HHHRRRGGGHH!” The Angel of the Abattoir got a foot out, causing Bex to lose her balance and pitch headlong into the ropes! This meeting was extremely awkward albeit not particularly painful because the blonde managed to keep her throat from striking the rubber-coated steel. Even so, it was a precarious position to say the least and she wasted no time straightening--THWHACK!
Adelaide whipped ‘round on her heel and came out the far side with a vile Elbow Smash she blasted into the base of Becky’s skull! Clayton jolted something awful, her arms falling limp over the top rope. The ‘wha hoppen?’ look on her face suggested she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, yet Adelaide must’ve had other plans because she pulled the Camouflage Crusher away with a handful of hair, then doubled her over and threaded her torso through the gap between the top and middle ropes. “The Crimson Throne is eager to welcome you, chattel.” Adelaide purred as she threaded the blonde’s arms over the top rope. “But first we must ensure you’re worthy of its hungry embrace!”
“Hrrrhhh… I don’t know about that damned chair, but you’re more than worthy of kissing my assSSSGGHHH!”
Becky’s defiance descended into grunting displeasure when Brewster hopped up and threaded her legs around the blonde’s waist in a tight Scissors! Feeling no particular urge to rush when the ropes provided no sanctuary, the Weeping Angel slipped her right arm around Clayton’s throat and gripped her own left bicep for extra leverage. Her left hand braced the base of Becky’s skull and puuuuuuuuuuuusssshed forward to put even more pressure on the Destroyer’s crimped windpipe. “Shall I choke you out right now?” Brewster’s voice was contemplatively hateful in Clayton’s ear. “I could do it, if I wanted. You’d drift off into a nightmare, then wake up only to find the nightmare is all around you.”
“Do it, then.” Becky knew she shouldn’t waste oxygen replying to Adelaide, but she simply couldn’t allow the evil bytch to run her mouth unopposed. “Do it if you think you caNNHHHRRRGGGGHHH!”
Adelaide bore down on the Sleeper and leaned back at an angle that allowed her to pour even more power through those crushing Scissors! Already pink, it didn’t take long for Clayton’s features to flush red, then a worrisome shade of purple. Her escape efforts increased in time with the oxygen deprivation, but it was still several precious seconds before she slipped an arm free of the top rope. She went to work on Brewster’s left thigh immediately, just pounding punch after punch after punch into-- Becky gasped in surprise and relief when the Angel of the Abattoir released the Sleeper without warning! The heady rush of air meant she didn’t consider Adelaide’s motives, an understandable lapse the still proved quite painful when the brunette wrenched her head to the side and sank her teeth into the right side of Clayton’s neck.
“BYTCH!” the blonde bellowed with rage and abandoned her punching efforts in favor of yanking and tearing at her rival’s dark locks. Adelaide growled, reached under the Camouflage Crusher’s right arm and clamped down on that breast to add another painful element to the attack. Fuming over the smattering of whistles and cheers heard amidst the boos when Brewster began working on her rack, Becky tightened her grip on the brunette’s hair and put everything she had into making Adelaide rel--“NNGGHH!” Adelaide drew away from her drink just to THUNK a Headbutt into the nape of her victim’s neck!
Bex slumped in the strands, her wooziness allowing a gleeful Brewster to double down on the jugg mugging. “My, my, my, this must be so humiliating.” she sighed to the former World Champion. “Nibbling your neck, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and playing with your tits. I feel like I should at least buy you dinner, but then, you ARE din--”
Becky finally wrested her other arm free of the rubber-coated steel, yet rather than work to get Brewster’s claws off her chest, she doubled down on her hair-hold and pulled hard enough to make the Daughter of Darkness hiss in pain. “You’re gonna choke on me tonight, honeybunch, I swear you will. Be it my fists, my boots or my ass, you’re get a f*ck-ton more than you OOOOHHHH YOU SLUT!”
Adelaide gave up squeezing in favor of a single spiteful tug that spilled the blonde’s breasts free of her top! Clayton forgot all about Brewster’s hair in favor of dealing with her distended togs, which allowed Adelaide to break the Scissors and return to the canvas. Bex registered the brunette’s absence, alas she didn’t get a chance to appreciate it before the Sanguinaire pivoted on her left foot and THWHACKED a Super Kick into the back of her opponent’s skull!
With her arms no longer trapped by the top rope, Clayton tumbled forward and over the middle rope to the floor below. Might not’ve eliminated her from a Battle Royale, yet it looked just as painful considering that the Peacekeeper bounced her forehead against the edge of the apron en route to the thin blue mats. This derisive treatment earned resounding boos from the FAWNatics, unfortunately their wrath earned nothing but a wide, savage smile from the red-clad brunette. Snatching the top rope in both hands, she climbed onto the second strand and stretched her arms wide to funnel even more fury in her direction.
“Why do you lament these pathetic heroines?” she shouted to the throng. “Time and time again, they come to my Nightmare Citadel only to dash themselves against the walls! Do not align yourself with these would-be usurpers, bend a knee and bare your throat for the Weeping Angel. Love me, chattel. Love me, and despair!”
Their reaction suggested a dearth of the former and an abundance of the latter and the ratio grew all the more one-sided when Brewster climbed over the ropes and hopped from the apron to the floor. Beside her, Becky Clayton pushed to all fours and made a belated adjustment to her aggrieved top. She’d just set things to rights when Adelaide buried a hand in the blonde’s hair and hauled her to boot-leather. The Daughter of Darkness started to say something, ultimately thought better of it and settled for bashing, then scraaaaaaaaaaaaaaping Clayton’s head against the apron until Bex managed to drive a particularly stiff elbow into the pit of her attacker’s stomach.
Baring her teeth at this show of resistance, Adelaide pounded a few Kneelifts into the small of Clayton’s back before relinquishing the hair-hold for a tight Waistlock. “Such a good soldier, even standing at the gates of oblivion.” Brewster cooed into her rival’s ear as she pivoted around so her back was to the squared circle. “Steel your nerves, Rebecca. Then raise your hand and knoNNNNGGHHH!”
The Camouflage Crusher smashed a quick Headbutt into the point of her opponent’s chin, then threw herself backward to crush Adelaide’s midsection between her rump and the apron. “Hrrrhhh… how about I just knock you the f*ck out instead?” Bex clamped down on Brewster’s wrists and started to prize her grip apart while continually mashing the medicine ball of her glutes against the Weeping Angel’s tummy. Grinning as she watched the brunette’s straining fingers give way, Clayton chided, “Might consider changing your diet, honeybunch. I think the all liquid route is making you weaKAAAARRRRHHHHH!”
Dangerously unreceptive to the blonde’s dietary suggestions, Adelaide helped herself to another hearty mouthful of Becky’s neck! The piercing pain caused the BFG to release her grip, which allowed Adelaide to re-apply the Waistlock. Still gnawing at her adversary’s throat, Brewster plowed her way clear of the apron, then dipped her knees and popped her hips to hurl Becky up and over in a truncated arc that ended with her back THWHUMPING against the edge of the apron!
Clayton sobbed along with her Howling Commandos, the former World Champion landing awkwardly on her butt before slopping out on her stomach. Greeting this distress with obvious disdain, Adelaide smoothed her hair out and planted a boot on the small of Becky’s aching spine. “You wish to for this chattel to see another sunrise?” she sneered to the sold out crowd. “Then beg for her! Beg the Queen of Nightmares for mercy!”
Those assembled urged Clayton to get up and fight, but they offered no obeisance to Adelaide, which did not sit well with the Angel of the Abattoir. Still gouging her boot into the small of Becky’s back, Brewster bent down, grabbed a handful of hair and yanked her head off the fl--‘PFWOOOOOOOSH!’ Adelaide blew a cloud of Red Mist into Clayton’s face, dropped her head, then turned to the FAWNatics and blew the remaining red in their direction. “Drink it in, chattel.” she sneered to the jeering throng. “My cup may overflow, but that’s all you’ll get.”
Dismissing them with a curled lip and pink teeth, the Queen of Nightmares returned to Clayton, plunged both hands into the blonde’s red-matted hair and scraped her off the floor. “Guuuuhh… ghastly bytch.” Becky tried to clinch with her adversary to no real success. “Next time you spit on me you’ll lose a mouthful of teeth in the procEEERRRGGGHH!”
Adelaide switched from her hair-hold to a steely grip on her opponent’s left wrist, which she promptly wrenched up and back behind Clayton’s head in a sort of upside down Hammerlock. Cranking down on the simple hold to better control her protesting adversary, Brewster marched Becky over to the nearest corner and mashed her into the steel ring-post. “It would be wise to not draw undue attention to my teeth, little soldier.” Adelaide drew one hand from the Hammerlock so she could grab Bex’s cheeks and smoosh them into a demeaning duck face. “After all, history has shown us that you’re far too tender to resist their chahhrrrgghhh!”
The Camouflage Crusher wrapped her free hand around Adelaide’s throat and treated it to a strong squeeze. Smiling at the surprise she saw in the other woman’s eyes, Becky growled, “Eat. Me.”
Brewster grinned despite the abrupt lack of oxygen. “If you insist.”
Adelaide spiked a knee into the pit of Clayton’s stomach, let loose of the embarrassing face-clamp and formed that hand into a fist which she drew back beside her right ear. The Heart Punch came a split-second later, but instead of striking the Peacekeeper’s chest it BWONKED against the ring-post when Bex twisted out of the way at the last possible moment! The cheer from the crowd wasn’t nearly enough to overwhelm the shriek from Brewster as the brunette reeled away with that aching hand clutched tight to her chest.
Sensing a prime opportunity to regain some of the ground she’d ceded earlier in the match, Clayton shoved down her own aches and chased down the retreating wrestler to snatch a massive handful of dark hair. “Where you going honeybunch? Your precious throne is the other way!”
Adelaide twisted and squirmed, but the pain in her hand meant these efforts came to naught. “Get the f*ck off me, cow. Before I make you GUHHFFFFFHHHHH!”
Becky rushed forward and drove her rival into the side of the steel steps, then went up on tiptoe and bwang-bwang-BWANGED her face into the top step! Brewster’s knees turned to water but the brace of the steps (not to mention the blonde hooks in her hair) kept her vertical until Clayton tugged her away and scooped her up onto one shoulder. Controlling the Sanguinaire with a hand cupped over the nape of her neck and a healthy handful of buttocks, Becky walked a small circle to show off her foe for the crowd before returning to the steps. From there she went up on tiptoe and tossed Adelaide down, the descent truncated though even more painful than usual considering that she BWOOONGED atop the steel steps!
“NNNNNGGGHHHH CHATTEL WHORE!” Adelaide howled in anguish and tried to sit up only to take another blow to the spine when Bex palmed both shoulders and forced her back down.
“Looking more like a sacrifice than a queen now, aren’t ya bytch?” the BFG growled down into her opponent’s pain-pinched face. “Something tells me I’ll have to carry your punk-ass all the way to that overgrown high chair.”
“As…as if you’re strong enough.” Adelaide moaned to the blonde. “You may be a passable soldier, but you’ve never had the spine… or the stomach, for true violenAAAAARRRRHHHHH F*CKER!”
Brewster’s pain blossomed into humiliation when Becky SMECKED both hands down on her breasts and began to squeeze for all she was worth! “What’s wrong, don’t like it?” Clayton asked with a wide, taunting smile on her lips. “Do something about it, if you f*cking can!” With that she pressed down and poured on the pressure, the former World Champ showing her rival’s girls an uncharacteristically catty level of disrespect as she continued to jostle, jiggle, maul and mash the defenseless orbs against Brewster’s sternum.
This tale of two-fisted rack revenge was all of fifteen seconds old when a warning cry from the Howling Commandos drew Becky’s attention over one shoulder. Sure enough she caught Sierra Mist dead to rights, the diminutive brunette halting in her tracks under the force of Clayton’s withering glare. “You really want some of this, Mist?” Bex emphasized the question with a squeeze that earned a loud hiss from the prone brunette.
Damned if Sierra didn’t steel herself and straighten up a little. “Get your hands off of her, war dog. She’s meant for greatness the likes of you could never contemplate.”
“War dog? I kinda like that. Might have to see if the merchandise guys can work up a t-shirt.” Becky smirked. “That said, you better back the hell up right now if you wanna be a part of those great--” fingertips brushed against her top and Clayton instinctually yanked Adelaide’s velvet down to return the demeaning favor from earlier in the match!
Brewster shrieked in outrage and forgot all about her counter claw in an effort to cover up, which allowed the Peacekeeper to whip ‘round on the spot and loop her right arm around the brunette’s skull. Eyes locked with her fuming rival, Bex warned, “You even think about biting me again and I’ll beat you bloody, bytch. Swear to god I will.”
Raking her talons into Clayton’s biceps and flanks now that her chest was no longer under attack, Adelaide sneered, “Promises, promisNGH! NGH! NGH! NGH! NGH! NGH!”
The blonde unleashed an absolute flurry of closed fists to Brewster’s forehead while occasionally sneaking a glance at Sierra to ensure she wasn’t creeping any closer. Her focus on busting Adelaide wide open meant she couldn’t be certain, but she was fairly sure that Mist was at least a few steps closer by the third check and this didn’t sit well with the BFG. “You think I’m f*cking around, Mist?” she growled. “BACK OFF or you’ll end up feeding Countess Chocula here through a straOOOOWWW!”
Adelaide was in no position to free herself from the awkward, neck-wrenching trap, but she dared test Clayton’s threat by sinking her teeth into the underside of the blonde’s bicep!
“GODDAMMIT I TOLD YOU!” Becky delivered three more punches. then tightened her grip and stomped forward to draw Adelaide away from the steps, a shift that effectively draaaaaaagged the brunette’s back over the rough steel. Stopping only when Brewster was mostly clear of the steps, the Camouflage Crusher went up on her toes, then dropped to her knees to THWHUMP the back of Adelaide’s head and shoulders against the thin blue mats with what was effectively a rope-hung Reverse DDT, albeit an oddly aligned one.
The resounding impact of this improvised unpleasantness forced Sierra to retreat a few steps, though not nearly as far as Becky would’ve liked. “Last warning, Mist.” the blonde pointed a commanding finger up the ramp. “Get your ass out of here of I’ll--”
Genuine surprise from Becky and the FAWNatics when Brewster’s lightweight Renfield charged and threw herself at the Destroyer, Sierra latching onto her prey with a loose Bodyscissors and a double handful of hair! Dismissing her surprise as soon as she felt Mist’s claws on her scalp, Clayton pounded a few punches into the brunette’s flanks, then took control of the situation with a rib-gnashing Bear Hug. Swinging around to ensure Adelaide was still puddled on the floor (she was) Becky sank into a deep crouch and popped her hips to HURL Sierra almost the full length of the narrow aisle with a massive Overhead Belly to Belly Suplex! Mist skipped across the ground like a rock across a pond, her residual momentum eventually turning into an awkward tumble that came to an end when she brushed up against the bottom of the guardrail.
“You should get better help, Brewster.” the blonde chided once she’d returned her attention to the Weeping Angel. “What’s Miranda doing these days? Still running a telethon for--”
“What do you know of friends, chattel?” Adelaide grunted without even looking at her rival. She was far more concerned with the aches in her mashed hand and a shallow cut that’d opened over her right eyebrow. “How many partners have abandoned you at this point? Pahlavi? McCrimmon? Even the Court left you to fend for yourself, or rather, you shunted them off to one side in search of personal glory.” Adelaide lifted her head, rose to one knee and wiped a hand across her forehead, a gesture that only smeared the leaking red. “How did that end for you, chattel? If only you’d had someone to neutralize Portia, perhaps Singh wouldn’t have made you cry like a byNNNGGGGHHH!”
Clayton booted her square between the eyes, the heavy THWHUNK earning a sympathetic groan from every fan close enough to actually hear the collision and a satisfied roar from everyone else. Seething in spite of the blunt force retribution, the Peacekeeper planted a foot on either side of the brunette’s hips and leaned down to stick an index finger in her face. But whatever words she’d had in mind must’ve been inadequate expressions of Bex’s anger because instead of speaking she simply snarled before clapping Brewster’s mug to one side with a heavy Bytch Slap.
Adelaide cursed and rolled onto her stomach to protect against further abuse so Clayton shifted her attention to the narrow seam between two of the protective mats. A little bit of wiggling was enough to secure a good grip and from there she simply stood up and backed off to peeeeeeeeeel the pad away from the bare concrete with a sound like someone un-spooling an industrial-sized roll of scotch tape.
“Becky!” Nick Castle was still in the ring, though he was crowding the ropes almost directly above the former World Champion. “Put the mat back, ok? The outside’s already unforgiving enough, you don’t have to make it worse.”
“Make it worse?” Clayton tossed the protective padding aside and refilled her hands with Brewster’s hair, just as the official had feared she would. “This is a huge upgrade! Can you imagine what she’ll sound like coming down on this?”
“I’d prefer not, actually.”
“Not up to you, Nick,” Becky answered without hesitation. “She brought this on herself.”
With that she grabbed Adelaide by the shoulder-straps, hauled her to verticality and immediately drilled a couple Kneelifts into the small of her back. The Weeping Angel cried out and would’ve crumpled against the apron if Clayton hadn’t turned her around and latched onto that injured hand. Doing so pointed the brunette away from the bare patch and Castle actually dared to dream Becky had revised her strategy. Alas, those dreams were dashed when the Camouflage Crusher unleashed an Irish Whip only to reel Brewster back the way she’d came. Dropping low to meet the hated other, Becky stuffed a shoulder into Adelaide’s gut and wrapped her arms around the brunette’s upper thighs at the same time. Just like that she went up one foot, whipped through an about-face and dropped to her knees to THWHUMP-THUD Adelaide against the gray concrete with a Spinebuster that earned groans of sympathetic anguish from everyone in attendance, save Clayton herself!
Not that Adelaide heard this or would’ve appreciated it even if she did, the red-clad battler was presently writhing like a snake with a broken back and fouling the air with a string of profanity not suitable for print or any of the Nine Hells for that matter.
Becky remained unmoved, the memories of what this woman had done to her after their first match still far too fresh to let her view Adelaide’s suffering with anything other than grim satisfaction. Without really thinking about it, she reached down, grabbed hold of Brewster’s hair and yanked her head off the floor just to bounce it once, twice, three times! “You want this to be over, honeybunch?” she asked the bloodied, twitching brunette. “Tell me you want this to be over, and I’ll put you out right now. Or keep running your mouth and I’ll beat your ass all the way up that--”
Clayton gnashed her teeth when Adelaide took hold of her wrist and bore down like she meant to break the skin. “
The abattoir does not ask permission of the chattel.” Brewster groaned. “It simply takes what is there and waits for morHHHRRRGGHHHH!”
Bex switched from her hair grip to a snug goozle around Adelaide’s throat. “Tonight you get everything you wanted and then some, Brewster.” the Peacekeeper promised. “Tonight you’ll f*cking choke on it.”
Clambering to her feet with Adelaide rasping along in her wake, Clayton treated her fellow former champion to a single strong Headbutt (targeting the cut over her eye of course) before welcoming the Queen of Nightmares into a strong Bear Hug. Several strong squeezes had Brewster scratching and clawing at the blonde’s biceps, thus ensuring she wasn’t paying attention to Clayton’s footwork, which had maneuvered them to the base of the ramp. “Your high chair is waiting, Addy.” Clayton murmured in Adelaide’s ear even as she poured on the pressure. “It looks hungry.”
“And it will fuuuhh… feast on you soon enough, chatHWHOAAANOOFFHHH!”
The BFG got low just to take her burden over, around and of course down, Becky SLAMMING Brewster onto the floor courtesy of a crushing Belly to Belly Suplex. Careful to break the Waistlock prior to impact, Clayton secured it again, then got to her feet with Adelaide dangling in the Waistlock. A little higher up the ramp now, Becky popped her hips for the second time in perhaps five seconds to smash the air from Adelaide’s lungs with another emphatic Belly to Belly Suplex!
Having regained their usual exuberance following the unpleasantness with the Spinebuster, the Howling Commandos bellowed ‘HAT TRICK!’ over and over again as the Peacekeeper once again returned to boot-leather. “I shouldn’t even bother seating you in that damned chair.” Becky was back at the Bear Hug, her knotted fists just digging and gnashing at the increasingly vulnerable lower back of Adelaide Brewster. “I should just fold you over one of the armrests so I can whip your ass liked you did mine.”
“Yuuuuuhhhh… you don’t have the nerve, chattel.” Adelaide rasped. She was still trying to free herself from Clayton’s grasp, though her efforts had grown considerably weaker. “You’re too compassionate, even when you know what needs to be done. Even when you know what I’ll do if you faiNNNNNGGGGGGHHH!”
Becky THWHAMMED the Weeping Angel onto the ramp with a third Suplex and while such a series would’ve taken them from one side of the ring to the other, it had brought them little more than halfway up the aisle. This didn’t concern Clayton in the slightest, she simply got up with that tenacious Waistlock still in place and--“AAAAAAAHHHHHH! FREAKIN’ PSYCHO!” Becky bellowed in disgust as a hollow-eyed Sierra Mist sprang onto her back, the fanatical flyweight ripping and tearing at the big blonde! “GET THE HELL OFFA ME MIST OR SO HELP ME GOD!”
Clayton could’ve plucked Mist from her six with no effort at all if she’d just let go of Brewster, but she wouldn’t do it, not with the Daughter of Darkness practically out on her feet. “ Call to whatever divinity you like, chattel.” Sierra hissed in Becky’s ear. “It won’t answer in time to save HHHRRGGHHH!”
Becky abandoned the Bear Hug, reached back with both hands and took possession of the meddler’s head. Pulling like she meant to bare great patches of Mist’s scalp, Becky threw it into full reverse and didn’t stop until she felt Sierra’s spine BWAAANG against the guardrail that kept the action from spilling into the aisle-side fans. The Scissors on her waist fell away in the aftermath of that gawdawful collision, but damned if Sierra wouldn’t abandon the Sleeper she’d cinched around Clayton’s throat.
“Grrrhhh… gonna break you in half, honeybunch.” Becky promised as she stomped away from the steel in anticipation of unleashing another chiropractic calamity. “Then I’m gonna do it again, just to make certNNNNNGGGGGGHHHH!”
Adelaide rushed across the aisle, leapt up and wrapped her arms around the back of Sierra’s head, the Queen of Nightmares using her follower to ensure Clayton couldn’t avoid the upraised knee that THUNKED against her forehead when Brewster dropped to the floor!
SINGLE KNEE FACEBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zyikygs10l4
The Single Knee Facebreaker shot Becky up on tiptoe, her grip on Sierra forgotten as both arms windmilled wildly to keep the Destroyer verti-- Sierra sprang, wedged both knees between Clayton’s shoulders and dropped to her back to THWHUMP the air from Becky’s body with a surprise Lungblower!
LUNGBLOWER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=nnJeIvG8_CM
A moment of stunned silence from the Cellar Dwellers gave way to incredulous rage when Brewster and Mist got to their feet and loomed over the splattered blonde. Grinning ferociously as she drank in the bipedal ruin at their feet, Adelaide wiped the hair off her forehead and huffed, “Excellent work, Sierra. Your training is coming along splendidly.”
“Thank you, mistress. I’m only sorry I wasn’t able to prevent the chattel from her brazen cheating.”
“Fear not. Our enemy is cunning, but our cause is righteous… and our hunger is insatiable. Which reminds me…” Adelaide leaned down, plunged a hand into Becky’s hair and hauled her to boot-leather in a series of fits and starts.
“How may I assist you?” Mist asked as the Angel of the Abattoir turned Clayton around and trapped her left arm overhead with a Half Nelson.
“Procure a chair from one of the heathens.” Brewster spoke to Sierra, but her lips were brushing Clayton’s right ear. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m feeling a bit peckish.”
“Duuuuhhh… don’t you f*cking dare.” Becky’s words were as sluggish as her movements, the Peacekeeper clearly rocked after the tandem offense. “I mean it, Brewster. Keep your teeth to OOOOOOHHHH GAAAAHHHHHD!”
Adelaide ignored the warning in favor of chomping down on the base of her blonde’s neck! Becky answered the bite with a vigorous hair pull, alas she soon found herself under attack on multiple fronts when the brunette pulled down her top and set to work on the BFG’s fearsome frontage!
“Submit if you like.” Brewster came up for air long enough to murmur in Clayton’s ear. “Submit to me and I’ll make your journey to the Crimson Throne as pleasant as possiRRRGGGHH!”
Becky relinquished the hair-hold in favor of jamming her right elbow into the other wrestler’s ribs no less than half a dozen times. “You’ll cripple me before I submit.” the blonde promised. “And you’re not strong enough to cripple me AdelaNNUUFFFHH!”
Brewster pumped a few Kneelifts into her opponent’s protesting glutes, then shifted from groping to sharp tweaking, Adelaide alternating from left to right and back again as she continued to sup on the former World Champ’s fighting spirit. Vaguely aware that the crazy bytch had started backpedaling up the ramp, Clayton dug in her heels as best she could, but every bit of resistance was met with another twist or another bite, sometimes both at once. “Shall I drink you dry, Rebecca?” Adelaide nipped Becky’s ear even as she twisted her nubs. “Leave you a desiccated, humiliated husk? Or will you beg me to spare enough to let you keep--”
“Never.” Becky interrupted as she flailed at the brunette’s encroaching pincer. “Never beg you for any--OH YOU BYTCH STOP! STOP! STAAAAAAAHHHP!”
Adelaide, who’d thrust her hand down the front of Clayton’s trunks for a three-fingered assault on the blonde’s womanhood, increased her efforts until Becky’s knees ground together. “I have no desire to stop,” Brewster murmured in between bites. “Nor do you, if you’re being honest. Be honest with me, soldier.”
Bex bit her bottom lip, shook her head ‘no’ and grabbed hold of her tormentor’s wrist in hopes of breaking the Crotch Claw. Adelaide gnawed a little harder, plunged a little deeper, then removed her talon and resumed her previous attacks on the Peacekeeper’s nipples. Becky cried out, tried to follow the brunette’s hand and always found herself a heartbeat or two behind. As soon as she caught Brewster’s wrist the Angel of the Abattoir would move on, expertly pillaging all three targets in that triangle of torment with occasional forays to Clayton’s gulping belly.
Hunching forward ever so slightly as Becky’s legs went from strong to wavering to watery, Adelaide abruptly clamped down on her opponent’s crotch and straightened up, thus forcing her opponent to do the same. “Submit to me, Rebecca. Give yourself over to the Queen of Nightmares and--”
“Nuuuuhhhh… nuuuhhh…NO! Just get your f*cking hands offa--”
Brewster relinquished the claw in favor of a strong grip on the blonde’s togs at the right hip. In the same instant she dropped low and popped her hips to take Clayton up, over and oh dear lord, down, the wore-out Destroyer just BAWANGING onto the back of her head and shoulders as the victim of a truly malicious Half Nelson Suplex!
HALF NELSON SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=RWLafxS3VbE
Becky tumbled all the way through, reared up on her knees and reached out like she meant to brace a hand on the floor only to collapse in a facedown heap. As for Adelaide, she rolled back onto her shoulders, drew both knees up high and kicked out to spring to her feet with an ease that earned incensed boos from the AHE crowd. “Why this misplaced fury, chattel?” Brewster called to the throng. “This one’s suffering is almost at an end! Just a bit more preparation and she will be ready for the Crimson Throne!”
Indeed, the Suplex had left Becky sprawled at the top of the stage no more than five yards removed from that ghoulish chair. The Daughter of Darkness was still basking in the distress of those assembled when Sierra flitted into place on her left with the requested chair in one hand. Taking a moment to revel in the smoldering blonde wreckage, Mist offered the weapon to her patron. “Here you are, mistress.”
“Not for me, Sierra. Consider it my gift to you.” “You are most generous. How shall I dispatch the chattel?”
Adelaide smiled, let the tip of her tongue play over her canines. “I’m so glad you asked. Follow me.”
Brewster strolled up to her adversary, claimed a double handful of hair and scraped Becky off the floor only to draw her into a Standing Headscissors. From there she leaned forward and looped both arms around the Camouflage Crusher’s midsection. “Set the chair up and take your rightful place, Sierra. This is as much your victory as it is mine.”
Eyes alight, Mist did as bade while Brewster gathered her reserves and hoisted Clayton into the stall position for a Piledriver. This raised a rumble of concern from the crowd as well as Nick Castle, who’d rushed to join his charges as soon as Brewster delivered that awful Suplex. “Don’t do it, Adelaide!” the Senior Official called out as he closed the distance. “That’s too much, you don’t have to--f*ck.” With Adelaide holding Becky in place, Sierra gripped the soles of the blonde’s boots and hopped off to add all her weight to the short, brutal descent of the Piledriver that SPIKED the crown of Clayton’s skull into the stage floor!
SPIKE PILEDRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=auaheLWJJn8
Becky rolled away in a boneless heap that she would’ve occupied for a hundred count (if not longer) if Adelaide hadn’t buried her hands in the blonde’s hair and hauled her to her knees in fits and starts. Far more subdued than their name would indicate, the Howling Commandos did their best to rally themselves in order to do the same for their heroine, but a pall seemed to have fallen over the Madhouse, a heaviness that grew greater with each passing second.
Only Brewster seemed unaffected, indeed she looked almost sprightly as she hauled Clayton upright, then slipped an arm between her legs and hoisted the limp blonde across her shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry. The path to the Crimson Throne was clear, though this didn’t stop Sierra from keeping a watchful eye over her mistress as Adelaide tromped into the shadow of that grim receptacle. Another discontented murmur from the Cellar Dwellers once Becky was sloughed from Brewster’s shoulders into an insensate seat on the Throne. Nodding with satisfaction, Adelaide dropped to a knee and went to work securing one ankle and then the other within the rough leather straps. Mist moved in to speed the process only to stop when the Weeping Angel raised a hand.
“The rite must be performed alone, Sierra.” she explained while setting to work strapping down Becky’s left hand. “There can be no doubt about who truly deserves her place of honHHHRRRGGGHH!”
A roar of relieved delight when Clayton’s right hand shot out and grabbed Adelaide’s throat! “Chuuuhhh… choke you out…bytch.” the BFG promised as she scraped the bottom of her reserves to carry out the threat. “Choke you out and strap you doOOOOOWWWW FAAAAHHK!”
Not about to be denied in the eleventh hour, Brewster snatched the blonde’s wrist in both hands to wrest the stranglehold loose, then brought Becky’s hand to her lips and bit down as hard as she could! Clayton thrashed in place, but the restraints held her fast and it was only a matter of seconds before the brunette had strapped her right hand down. “Almost done now, chattel.” Adelaide ran her hands through Becky’s hair in an almost tender gesture that grew considerably less so when she dug in and BWUNKED the back of Bex’s skull against the headrest no less than half a dozen times. The Peacekeeper groaned pitiably and tried to slip loose of Brewster’s clutches, alas she had neither the energy or the mobility to prevent Adelaide from securing the final strap across her chin.
“Submit.” the Angel of the Abattoir was nose to nose with her nemesis. “Submit to me and I promise you will be mercifully unaware of what comes next. Refuse and…” she reached out with both hands and gave the Destroyer’s nipples a painful, lingering tweak. “…you will be wide awake.”
Becky was silent even as Adelaide continued to pluck and pull. Eventually she rasped, “Do your worst, bytch. You’ll get no more from me.”
“We both know that’s a lie.” Adelaide murmured. “But if that’s how you want it…” The Weeping Angel strode from the Throne to the switch that looked like an old fashioned circuit breaker. Offering Clayton a malicious smile she purred, “Welcome to the Killing Floor, Rebecca.”
She yanked the switch down with an ominous CLANK that was immediately forgotten by all in attendance thanks to the shower of red that poured out of the rafters to absolutely drench the Crimson Throne and its exhausted occupant.
If Brewster and Mist had expected some sort of terrified final girl shriek from Becky Clayton they were destined for disappointment, though the Announcer brought plenty of teeth gnashing from the fans. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner of the match… ADELAIDE BREWSTER!”
Pleased by the furious cacophony of her foe’s followers, Adelaide sauntered back to the Throne, turned around and hopped into a seat on Becky’s lap. Letting her legs dangle over the drippy right armrest, Brewster snaked her right arm around Clayton’s neck and leaned in close to make a show of licking the blonde’s cheek.
“Delicious.” she cooed. “I hope you enjoy the rest of the show, Rebecca. This is the best seat in the house, you know.” Becky groaned something that might’ve become words if the brunette hadn’t placed a hand over her mouth. “Hush. You can tell me later. I’ll see you later tonight, after you’ve closed your eyes. And every night after that. Sweet dreams, chattel.” She treated Clayton to a peck on the cheek, then climbed down from the Throne and disappeared through the curtain with Sierra trailing along a few steps behind.
Concerned murmurs from the Cellar Dwellers as the took in this latest denizen of the Madhouse. Looking like the disowned offspring of a rococo armchair and a nineteen fifties era electric chair, the Crimson Throne was all dark, rough-hewn wood, exposed bolts, dark red cushions and perhaps most distressing of all, heavy leather straps at both armrests, a single longer strap down low suitable for controlling the ankles and one more hanging from the right side of the headrest just about jaw level.
After allowing the audience several seconds of silent perusal, the Announcer went on. “This match has no pin-falls, submissions, knock outs, count outs or disqualifications. The only way for a competitor to win requires her to subdue her opponent, strap her to the Crimson Throne and then… throw the switch.” Another spotlight clanked on and there was the switch, a rusty, oversized affair that suggested all sorts of unpleasant scenarios. “As a final stipulation, both competitors have agreed that the loser of this match will remain trapped on the Crimson Throne for the duration of All Hallows Evil.”
Another pause from the Announcer, his mouth crimping as if he tasted something bitter. But when he spoke again he sounded more like himself. “Introducing first, hailing from Denver, Colorado she stands at five feet eight inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred and forty-three pounds. They call her the Peacekeeper, the BFG and the Camouflage Crusher! This is the One Woman Army… BECKY CLAYTON!”
‘White Flag’ stomped through the speakers to ensure everyone was on their feet before the Mother of all (blonde)Bombshells hit the scene.
WHITE FLAG:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=RWzZeA2GMsk
Take a hit, shoot me down, shoot me down
I won't ever hit the ground, hit the ground
Playing dead, I'll never do
Gotta keep an eye on you
Patience is wearing thin, paper thin
Promises broke again, what a sin
But it only feeds my energy
So don't expect no sympathy
Smoke, fire, it's all going up
Don't you know I ain't afraid to shed a little blood?
Smoke, fire, flares are going up, flares are going up!
BECKY CLAYTON:
The chorus started in time with Clayton’s arrival, the hardbody battler brushed through the curtain to lay claim to the center of the stage. Bex looked to be in championship shape both physically and mentally and why shouldn’t she? The Camouflage Crusher had knotted her series with Adelaide during their last encounter and in so doing handed the Queen of Nightmares her first loss since her return more than a year prior.
Clayton’s confident grin suggested she hadn’t forgotten the domineering seat she’d taken on Brewster’s noggin and if it slipped anyone else’s mind she made sure to refresh their memory by swatting her backside with both hands before treating the Howling Commandos to a brawny double bicep flex. For tonight’s mop-up mission the former FAWN World Champion sported a green & black camouflage two-piece with tie-sided bottoms and an impossible to ignore ladder / double helix of lycra that ran from the top of her waistband all the way to the southern border of her low-cut sports bra. The gear was completed with dark green pads, black boots and a few wraps of matte black wrist-tape.
Eyes drawn to the hulk of the Crimson Throne, Becky scowled, then hardened her expression and started toward the ring. The Cellar Dwellers reached out to offer their support and the blonde extended her own hands in return, though she never once deviated from her path to the squared circle. Breaking into a jog at the foot of the ramp, Clayton slid under the bottom rope and popped to her feet before heading to camera side to offer everyone at home a brisk salute.
She’d just settled into the corner on the far side of the ring when Senior Official Nick Castle came over to check on her pads and boots. “You ready for this, Becky?”
“To pound Adelaide into a red paste, then strap her into… whatever the hell that is? Yeah Nick, I think I am.”
Castle nodded approval of the final check, though his face remained troubled. “That makes one of us, at least.”
“And introducing her opponent, being accompanied to the ring by Sierra Mist, she hails from Oxrun Station, Connecticut, stands five feet six inches tall and weighs in tonight at one hundred and twenty-nine pounds, she is the Weeping Angel… ADELAIDE BREWSTER!”
Troubled by the mere sound of that name, those assembled for All Hallows Evil voiced their displeasure when the speakers flowed into the ominous synth beat at the heart of Harlo’s ‘You Might Be The Killer.’ With it came a departure of the lights, gloom reigning in the Madhouse basement until a series of spotlights raced from the ring to the stage in a pattern quite reminiscent of a racing pulse.
YOU MIGHT BE THE KILLER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=OIQ36Q3SSeY
I was on the hunt for blood
You were feeling lost in love
All it took was just one look and you were into me
I wish that i could cut you free
But you're already in too deep
You feel the curiosity of what we could be
SIERRA MIST:
A figure appeared out of the dark beside the Crimson Throne, not the Sanguinaire but her harbinger (and bipedal snack machine), the disgraced medical student Sierra Mist. Seemingly unconcerned by the sounds, lights or surroundings, Mist reached up and undid the knot of the dark red scarf at her throat, then pulled it away to reveal signs of a earlier feeding.
Baby if it's on don't hesitate
I promise you I'll be your best mistake
You found me for a reason, call it fate
'Cause it's feeling great
The night's about to get real
We're going in for the kill
This is power, it's not cold hearted
And we're just getting started
The lights went out again and when they returned Adelaide was directly behind Sierra, her face lowered to the brunette’s neck for a little pre-match boost. Sated for the moment, Brewster circled around in front of the little brunette and ‘PFWOOOOSHED!’ a cloud of red skyward as she started down the aisle.
ADELAIDE BREWSTER:
For this ritual sacrifice conveniently disguised as a contest of professional wrestling, the Weeping Angel wore a stygian black two-piece done in crushed velvet that showed off the power in her hips and shoulders in almost agonizing detail. The look was accented with a clunky silver belt complete with a buckle done up as a snarling wolf’s head and matching black boots and pads.
Reaching the ring quickly without a single glance at the unworthy meat gathered ‘round the killing floor, Adelaide stopped a few steps shy of the apron and held her ground while Sierra took point in climbing onto the apron. Turning to face the Daughter of Darkness, Mist sat on the middle rope and pushed down while using one hand to push the top rope up. Her free hand she extended to Adelaide, then swept toward the squared circle. “As if you need an invitation. Here of all places.” “What can I say? I like to stand on tradition.” Brewster smirked as she sprang onto the apron and swept through the strands to take up residence in the center of the ring. A second plume of mist stippled the canvas with red several seconds before Nick hurried over to complete the second half of the final inspection. As if she’d keep the instruments of Clayton’s demise in her knee pads or boots. If Castle wanted to know how she planned to end the chattel… all she had to do was smile.
Knowing it’d be impossible get his charges attention when they were already staring daggers at each other, Nick Castle still took a moment inform them of a single important detail. “Ladies, I know this is No Disqualification so I can’t make you follow my commands, but for the sake of your careers and your health, I hope you’ll give me some consideration if I say you’re going too far.”
Adelaide smiled, though she didn’t take her eyes off Becky. “I’m afraid that’s entirely up to my opponent, Castle. We could end this without violence if she’d allow me to escort her to the Crimson Throne.”
“You’re the only one taking a seat tonight, Brewster.” the Camouflage Crusher countered. “I’d ask if you want to go quietly, but I’m sure you’d prefer kicking and screaming.”
The Queen of Nightmares stepped closer and Becky matched her, the rivals brazenly chesting up while Castle cleared off to a prudent distance. “The kicking and screaming will come much earlier in the festivities.” Brewster promised. “You won’t do more than whimper when I finally strap you NNNGGHH!”
Becky smashed a Headbutt into the bridge of Adelaide’s nose, much to the delight of the Cellar Dwellers! “I hope you scream all the way up the ramp, honeybunch!” the blonde snarled as Brewster reeled and Castle called for the bell. “I hope you’re still screaming when I OOOFFFHH!”
Adelaide shot low, wrapped both arms around her opponent’s thighs and dumped her to the mat! Mounting Clayton’s waist immediately thereafter, Brewster buried a hand in Becky’s hair, yanked her head up and then bounced it once, twice, three times! Still latched onto the blonde’s long locks, Adelaide gave her noggin a rough shake before she flattened her free hand into a paddle and slapped Clayton’s cheek at least half a dozen times.
“Screaming is your purview, chattel.” the Sanguinaire chided as she pointed an imperious finger at her stunned adversary. “I’m here to revel in your slaughter. To cackle as you drown in a sea of blood and shaMMOOOOWWWW!”
Becky grabbed hold of Adelaide’s encroaching wrist and chomped down on her index finger like she wanted to take it off at the second knuckle! Brewster reared back without actually giving up her perch, so Clayton bucked her hips to reverse their positions, at least mostly. She couldn’t scramble into a full mount before Adelaide crossed her ankles to put serious pressure on the blonde’s waist with a snug Bodyscissors. Bex grimaced, spat out the brunette’s finger and answered the earlier slap with a couple of her own.
“That all you got, Brewster? Weren’t you going to make me scream?”
Rather than wait for an answer, she blasted a pair of Hammer Punches into the other wrestler’s forehead, then curled her hands into talons and ‘SMECKED’ them down on Brewster’s breasts! The Howling Commandos lived up to their nickname at this catty display from their heroine and Adelaide did too, though her tone was considerably different. Outrage did not equate to helplessness however and it was a matter of mere heartbeats before the brunette dragged her claws down the blonde’s décolletage en route to applying her own double claw!
“I’ll make you scream whenever it pleases me to do so, chattel.” Brewster explained as she gouged and tugged on her opponent’s bounty. “I could leave you hoarse in five minutes or less, but I’d prefer to let your precious fans hear you blubber and sob when I tie you to the CrimsSSSGGHHH!”
Becky responded with another white-knuckle squeeze only to relinquish her grip for a stiff backhand across the brunette’s jaw. The grip on her own curves loosened, so she swatted them away, then pressed her hands to the insides of Brewster’s knees and pushed down so she could fight free of the Scissors. Scrambling up into a rough seat on Adelaide’s chest, Becky framed the brunette’s head between her thighs to ensure she couldn’t turn away when she began to unload punch after punch into Brewster’s defenseless pate! Such a closed fist assault would’ve drawn an immediate warning from Nick under usual circumstances, but tonight he could only watch along with the rest of the FAWNatics while Clayton did her damndest to put a whole slew of fresh dents in the brunette’s hairline.
Outside of Adelaide and Senior Official (who kept his face carefully neutral) the only soul in the arena seemingly displeased by Becky’s efforts was Sierra Mist, who grew more and more grave as the Peacekeeper’s fist continued to rain down. Finally she could take no more and sprang onto the apron. “HEY!” she barked at Clayton. “Get your unworthy hands off her, chattel!”
Bex paused in her work, looked up and smirked when she saw the former medical student. “The lumps I’m raising say I’m plenty worthy, honeybunch. But if want me to stop you’re welcome to climb through those ropes and--”
Roars of surprised delight from those assembled when Mist stepped over the middle strand en route to take Becky up on her offer!
Pressing a palm to Adelaide’s forehead to keep her under control, Clayton’s amusement gave way to steely resolve. “Watch your step, Mist.” she warned. “You stick your nose in my business, you’re liable to get it shot ofFFOOOOWWWW!”
Still pinned snug beneath the Destroyer, Adelaide twisted her head to one side and sank her teeth into the meat of Becky’s right thigh! The former World Champ popped to her feet and in an instant that proved quite telling, she raised her right foot high and brought it down square on Brewster’s fa--NO!
The Daughter of Darkness rolled clear with a whisper to spare, scrambled to all fours and-- “OOOOFFFHHH!” Becky lunged and went low, the powerhouse leading with her knee to THWHUMP a broadside shot into her rival’s flank! Adelaide tumbled away from the blow, in fact she might’ve made it to the bottom rope if the big blonde hadn’t rushed after and snatched a handful of hair!
“Where do you think you’re going?” she yanked Brewster’s noggin up and warmed her cheek with a few more slaps. “Your throne is this way, your majesty.”
“Muuuuhh… my throne greets you from the mirror each morning, chatteLLLNNNGGGHH!”
Clayton bounced the brunette’s skull against the mat, then clamped down on her ears and gave them a painful twist to accelerate her return to verticality. A Kneelift to the midsection kept Brewster nice and wheezy while allowing the BFG to switch over to a controlling grip on the back of her rival’s neck. “You see that ugly thing?” she pointed at the looming bulk of the Crimson Throne as she gave the brunette a rough shake. “That’s where we’re going. That’s where you’re going to spend the rest of the night!”
Strengthening her grip with a handful of Adelaide’s waistband, Clayton rushed the edge of the ring and spun as she did so to ensure Brewster had the most momentum possible when she sailed over the stran-- “HHHRRRGGGHH!” The Angel of the Abattoir got a foot out, causing Bex to lose her balance and pitch headlong into the ropes! This meeting was extremely awkward albeit not particularly painful because the blonde managed to keep her throat from striking the rubber-coated steel. Even so, it was a precarious position to say the least and she wasted no time straightening--THWHACK!
Adelaide whipped ‘round on her heel and came out the far side with a vile Elbow Smash she blasted into the base of Becky’s skull! Clayton jolted something awful, her arms falling limp over the top rope. The ‘wha hoppen?’ look on her face suggested she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, yet Adelaide must’ve had other plans because she pulled the Camouflage Crusher away with a handful of hair, then doubled her over and threaded her torso through the gap between the top and middle ropes. “The Crimson Throne is eager to welcome you, chattel.” Adelaide purred as she threaded the blonde’s arms over the top rope. “But first we must ensure you’re worthy of its hungry embrace!”
“Hrrrhhh… I don’t know about that damned chair, but you’re more than worthy of kissing my assSSSGGHHH!”
Becky’s defiance descended into grunting displeasure when Brewster hopped up and threaded her legs around the blonde’s waist in a tight Scissors! Feeling no particular urge to rush when the ropes provided no sanctuary, the Weeping Angel slipped her right arm around Clayton’s throat and gripped her own left bicep for extra leverage. Her left hand braced the base of Becky’s skull and puuuuuuuuuuuusssshed forward to put even more pressure on the Destroyer’s crimped windpipe. “Shall I choke you out right now?” Brewster’s voice was contemplatively hateful in Clayton’s ear. “I could do it, if I wanted. You’d drift off into a nightmare, then wake up only to find the nightmare is all around you.”
“Do it, then.” Becky knew she shouldn’t waste oxygen replying to Adelaide, but she simply couldn’t allow the evil bytch to run her mouth unopposed. “Do it if you think you caNNHHHRRRGGGGHHH!”
Adelaide bore down on the Sleeper and leaned back at an angle that allowed her to pour even more power through those crushing Scissors! Already pink, it didn’t take long for Clayton’s features to flush red, then a worrisome shade of purple. Her escape efforts increased in time with the oxygen deprivation, but it was still several precious seconds before she slipped an arm free of the top rope. She went to work on Brewster’s left thigh immediately, just pounding punch after punch after punch into-- Becky gasped in surprise and relief when the Angel of the Abattoir released the Sleeper without warning! The heady rush of air meant she didn’t consider Adelaide’s motives, an understandable lapse the still proved quite painful when the brunette wrenched her head to the side and sank her teeth into the right side of Clayton’s neck.
“BYTCH!” the blonde bellowed with rage and abandoned her punching efforts in favor of yanking and tearing at her rival’s dark locks. Adelaide growled, reached under the Camouflage Crusher’s right arm and clamped down on that breast to add another painful element to the attack. Fuming over the smattering of whistles and cheers heard amidst the boos when Brewster began working on her rack, Becky tightened her grip on the brunette’s hair and put everything she had into making Adelaide rel--“NNGGHH!” Adelaide drew away from her drink just to THUNK a Headbutt into the nape of her victim’s neck!
Bex slumped in the strands, her wooziness allowing a gleeful Brewster to double down on the jugg mugging. “My, my, my, this must be so humiliating.” she sighed to the former World Champion. “Nibbling your neck, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and playing with your tits. I feel like I should at least buy you dinner, but then, you ARE din--”
Becky finally wrested her other arm free of the rubber-coated steel, yet rather than work to get Brewster’s claws off her chest, she doubled down on her hair-hold and pulled hard enough to make the Daughter of Darkness hiss in pain. “You’re gonna choke on me tonight, honeybunch, I swear you will. Be it my fists, my boots or my ass, you’re get a f*ck-ton more than you OOOOHHHH YOU SLUT!”
Adelaide gave up squeezing in favor of a single spiteful tug that spilled the blonde’s breasts free of her top! Clayton forgot all about Brewster’s hair in favor of dealing with her distended togs, which allowed Adelaide to break the Scissors and return to the canvas. Bex registered the brunette’s absence, alas she didn’t get a chance to appreciate it before the Sanguinaire pivoted on her left foot and THWHACKED a Super Kick into the back of her opponent’s skull!
With her arms no longer trapped by the top rope, Clayton tumbled forward and over the middle rope to the floor below. Might not’ve eliminated her from a Battle Royale, yet it looked just as painful considering that the Peacekeeper bounced her forehead against the edge of the apron en route to the thin blue mats. This derisive treatment earned resounding boos from the FAWNatics, unfortunately their wrath earned nothing but a wide, savage smile from the red-clad brunette. Snatching the top rope in both hands, she climbed onto the second strand and stretched her arms wide to funnel even more fury in her direction.
“Why do you lament these pathetic heroines?” she shouted to the throng. “Time and time again, they come to my Nightmare Citadel only to dash themselves against the walls! Do not align yourself with these would-be usurpers, bend a knee and bare your throat for the Weeping Angel. Love me, chattel. Love me, and despair!”
Their reaction suggested a dearth of the former and an abundance of the latter and the ratio grew all the more one-sided when Brewster climbed over the ropes and hopped from the apron to the floor. Beside her, Becky Clayton pushed to all fours and made a belated adjustment to her aggrieved top. She’d just set things to rights when Adelaide buried a hand in the blonde’s hair and hauled her to boot-leather. The Daughter of Darkness started to say something, ultimately thought better of it and settled for bashing, then scraaaaaaaaaaaaaaping Clayton’s head against the apron until Bex managed to drive a particularly stiff elbow into the pit of her attacker’s stomach.
Baring her teeth at this show of resistance, Adelaide pounded a few Kneelifts into the small of Clayton’s back before relinquishing the hair-hold for a tight Waistlock. “Such a good soldier, even standing at the gates of oblivion.” Brewster cooed into her rival’s ear as she pivoted around so her back was to the squared circle. “Steel your nerves, Rebecca. Then raise your hand and knoNNNNGGHHH!”
The Camouflage Crusher smashed a quick Headbutt into the point of her opponent’s chin, then threw herself backward to crush Adelaide’s midsection between her rump and the apron. “Hrrrhhh… how about I just knock you the f*ck out instead?” Bex clamped down on Brewster’s wrists and started to prize her grip apart while continually mashing the medicine ball of her glutes against the Weeping Angel’s tummy. Grinning as she watched the brunette’s straining fingers give way, Clayton chided, “Might consider changing your diet, honeybunch. I think the all liquid route is making you weaKAAAARRRRHHHHH!”
Dangerously unreceptive to the blonde’s dietary suggestions, Adelaide helped herself to another hearty mouthful of Becky’s neck! The piercing pain caused the BFG to release her grip, which allowed Adelaide to re-apply the Waistlock. Still gnawing at her adversary’s throat, Brewster plowed her way clear of the apron, then dipped her knees and popped her hips to hurl Becky up and over in a truncated arc that ended with her back THWHUMPING against the edge of the apron!
Clayton sobbed along with her Howling Commandos, the former World Champion landing awkwardly on her butt before slopping out on her stomach. Greeting this distress with obvious disdain, Adelaide smoothed her hair out and planted a boot on the small of Becky’s aching spine. “You wish to for this chattel to see another sunrise?” she sneered to the sold out crowd. “Then beg for her! Beg the Queen of Nightmares for mercy!”
Those assembled urged Clayton to get up and fight, but they offered no obeisance to Adelaide, which did not sit well with the Angel of the Abattoir. Still gouging her boot into the small of Becky’s back, Brewster bent down, grabbed a handful of hair and yanked her head off the fl--‘PFWOOOOOOOSH!’ Adelaide blew a cloud of Red Mist into Clayton’s face, dropped her head, then turned to the FAWNatics and blew the remaining red in their direction. “Drink it in, chattel.” she sneered to the jeering throng. “My cup may overflow, but that’s all you’ll get.”
Dismissing them with a curled lip and pink teeth, the Queen of Nightmares returned to Clayton, plunged both hands into the blonde’s red-matted hair and scraped her off the floor. “Guuuuhh… ghastly bytch.” Becky tried to clinch with her adversary to no real success. “Next time you spit on me you’ll lose a mouthful of teeth in the procEEERRRGGGHH!”
Adelaide switched from her hair-hold to a steely grip on her opponent’s left wrist, which she promptly wrenched up and back behind Clayton’s head in a sort of upside down Hammerlock. Cranking down on the simple hold to better control her protesting adversary, Brewster marched Becky over to the nearest corner and mashed her into the steel ring-post. “It would be wise to not draw undue attention to my teeth, little soldier.” Adelaide drew one hand from the Hammerlock so she could grab Bex’s cheeks and smoosh them into a demeaning duck face. “After all, history has shown us that you’re far too tender to resist their chahhrrrgghhh!”
The Camouflage Crusher wrapped her free hand around Adelaide’s throat and treated it to a strong squeeze. Smiling at the surprise she saw in the other woman’s eyes, Becky growled, “Eat. Me.”
Brewster grinned despite the abrupt lack of oxygen. “If you insist.”
Adelaide spiked a knee into the pit of Clayton’s stomach, let loose of the embarrassing face-clamp and formed that hand into a fist which she drew back beside her right ear. The Heart Punch came a split-second later, but instead of striking the Peacekeeper’s chest it BWONKED against the ring-post when Bex twisted out of the way at the last possible moment! The cheer from the crowd wasn’t nearly enough to overwhelm the shriek from Brewster as the brunette reeled away with that aching hand clutched tight to her chest.
Sensing a prime opportunity to regain some of the ground she’d ceded earlier in the match, Clayton shoved down her own aches and chased down the retreating wrestler to snatch a massive handful of dark hair. “Where you going honeybunch? Your precious throne is the other way!”
Adelaide twisted and squirmed, but the pain in her hand meant these efforts came to naught. “Get the f*ck off me, cow. Before I make you GUHHFFFFFHHHHH!”
Becky rushed forward and drove her rival into the side of the steel steps, then went up on tiptoe and bwang-bwang-BWANGED her face into the top step! Brewster’s knees turned to water but the brace of the steps (not to mention the blonde hooks in her hair) kept her vertical until Clayton tugged her away and scooped her up onto one shoulder. Controlling the Sanguinaire with a hand cupped over the nape of her neck and a healthy handful of buttocks, Becky walked a small circle to show off her foe for the crowd before returning to the steps. From there she went up on tiptoe and tossed Adelaide down, the descent truncated though even more painful than usual considering that she BWOOONGED atop the steel steps!
“NNNNNGGGHHHH CHATTEL WHORE!” Adelaide howled in anguish and tried to sit up only to take another blow to the spine when Bex palmed both shoulders and forced her back down.
“Looking more like a sacrifice than a queen now, aren’t ya bytch?” the BFG growled down into her opponent’s pain-pinched face. “Something tells me I’ll have to carry your punk-ass all the way to that overgrown high chair.”
“As…as if you’re strong enough.” Adelaide moaned to the blonde. “You may be a passable soldier, but you’ve never had the spine… or the stomach, for true violenAAAAARRRRHHHHH F*CKER!”
Brewster’s pain blossomed into humiliation when Becky SMECKED both hands down on her breasts and began to squeeze for all she was worth! “What’s wrong, don’t like it?” Clayton asked with a wide, taunting smile on her lips. “Do something about it, if you f*cking can!” With that she pressed down and poured on the pressure, the former World Champ showing her rival’s girls an uncharacteristically catty level of disrespect as she continued to jostle, jiggle, maul and mash the defenseless orbs against Brewster’s sternum.
This tale of two-fisted rack revenge was all of fifteen seconds old when a warning cry from the Howling Commandos drew Becky’s attention over one shoulder. Sure enough she caught Sierra Mist dead to rights, the diminutive brunette halting in her tracks under the force of Clayton’s withering glare. “You really want some of this, Mist?” Bex emphasized the question with a squeeze that earned a loud hiss from the prone brunette.
Damned if Sierra didn’t steel herself and straighten up a little. “Get your hands off of her, war dog. She’s meant for greatness the likes of you could never contemplate.”
“War dog? I kinda like that. Might have to see if the merchandise guys can work up a t-shirt.” Becky smirked. “That said, you better back the hell up right now if you wanna be a part of those great--” fingertips brushed against her top and Clayton instinctually yanked Adelaide’s velvet down to return the demeaning favor from earlier in the match!
Brewster shrieked in outrage and forgot all about her counter claw in an effort to cover up, which allowed the Peacekeeper to whip ‘round on the spot and loop her right arm around the brunette’s skull. Eyes locked with her fuming rival, Bex warned, “You even think about biting me again and I’ll beat you bloody, bytch. Swear to god I will.”
Raking her talons into Clayton’s biceps and flanks now that her chest was no longer under attack, Adelaide sneered, “Promises, promisNGH! NGH! NGH! NGH! NGH! NGH!”
The blonde unleashed an absolute flurry of closed fists to Brewster’s forehead while occasionally sneaking a glance at Sierra to ensure she wasn’t creeping any closer. Her focus on busting Adelaide wide open meant she couldn’t be certain, but she was fairly sure that Mist was at least a few steps closer by the third check and this didn’t sit well with the BFG. “You think I’m f*cking around, Mist?” she growled. “BACK OFF or you’ll end up feeding Countess Chocula here through a straOOOOWWW!”
Adelaide was in no position to free herself from the awkward, neck-wrenching trap, but she dared test Clayton’s threat by sinking her teeth into the underside of the blonde’s bicep!
“GODDAMMIT I TOLD YOU!” Becky delivered three more punches. then tightened her grip and stomped forward to draw Adelaide away from the steps, a shift that effectively draaaaaaagged the brunette’s back over the rough steel. Stopping only when Brewster was mostly clear of the steps, the Camouflage Crusher went up on her toes, then dropped to her knees to THWHUMP the back of Adelaide’s head and shoulders against the thin blue mats with what was effectively a rope-hung Reverse DDT, albeit an oddly aligned one.
The resounding impact of this improvised unpleasantness forced Sierra to retreat a few steps, though not nearly as far as Becky would’ve liked. “Last warning, Mist.” the blonde pointed a commanding finger up the ramp. “Get your ass out of here of I’ll--”
Genuine surprise from Becky and the FAWNatics when Brewster’s lightweight Renfield charged and threw herself at the Destroyer, Sierra latching onto her prey with a loose Bodyscissors and a double handful of hair! Dismissing her surprise as soon as she felt Mist’s claws on her scalp, Clayton pounded a few punches into the brunette’s flanks, then took control of the situation with a rib-gnashing Bear Hug. Swinging around to ensure Adelaide was still puddled on the floor (she was) Becky sank into a deep crouch and popped her hips to HURL Sierra almost the full length of the narrow aisle with a massive Overhead Belly to Belly Suplex! Mist skipped across the ground like a rock across a pond, her residual momentum eventually turning into an awkward tumble that came to an end when she brushed up against the bottom of the guardrail.
“You should get better help, Brewster.” the blonde chided once she’d returned her attention to the Weeping Angel. “What’s Miranda doing these days? Still running a telethon for--”
“What do you know of friends, chattel?” Adelaide grunted without even looking at her rival. She was far more concerned with the aches in her mashed hand and a shallow cut that’d opened over her right eyebrow. “How many partners have abandoned you at this point? Pahlavi? McCrimmon? Even the Court left you to fend for yourself, or rather, you shunted them off to one side in search of personal glory.” Adelaide lifted her head, rose to one knee and wiped a hand across her forehead, a gesture that only smeared the leaking red. “How did that end for you, chattel? If only you’d had someone to neutralize Portia, perhaps Singh wouldn’t have made you cry like a byNNNGGGGHHH!”
Clayton booted her square between the eyes, the heavy THWHUNK earning a sympathetic groan from every fan close enough to actually hear the collision and a satisfied roar from everyone else. Seething in spite of the blunt force retribution, the Peacekeeper planted a foot on either side of the brunette’s hips and leaned down to stick an index finger in her face. But whatever words she’d had in mind must’ve been inadequate expressions of Bex’s anger because instead of speaking she simply snarled before clapping Brewster’s mug to one side with a heavy Bytch Slap.
Adelaide cursed and rolled onto her stomach to protect against further abuse so Clayton shifted her attention to the narrow seam between two of the protective mats. A little bit of wiggling was enough to secure a good grip and from there she simply stood up and backed off to peeeeeeeeeel the pad away from the bare concrete with a sound like someone un-spooling an industrial-sized roll of scotch tape.
“Becky!” Nick Castle was still in the ring, though he was crowding the ropes almost directly above the former World Champion. “Put the mat back, ok? The outside’s already unforgiving enough, you don’t have to make it worse.”
“Make it worse?” Clayton tossed the protective padding aside and refilled her hands with Brewster’s hair, just as the official had feared she would. “This is a huge upgrade! Can you imagine what she’ll sound like coming down on this?”
“I’d prefer not, actually.”
“Not up to you, Nick,” Becky answered without hesitation. “She brought this on herself.”
With that she grabbed Adelaide by the shoulder-straps, hauled her to verticality and immediately drilled a couple Kneelifts into the small of her back. The Weeping Angel cried out and would’ve crumpled against the apron if Clayton hadn’t turned her around and latched onto that injured hand. Doing so pointed the brunette away from the bare patch and Castle actually dared to dream Becky had revised her strategy. Alas, those dreams were dashed when the Camouflage Crusher unleashed an Irish Whip only to reel Brewster back the way she’d came. Dropping low to meet the hated other, Becky stuffed a shoulder into Adelaide’s gut and wrapped her arms around the brunette’s upper thighs at the same time. Just like that she went up one foot, whipped through an about-face and dropped to her knees to THWHUMP-THUD Adelaide against the gray concrete with a Spinebuster that earned groans of sympathetic anguish from everyone in attendance, save Clayton herself!
Not that Adelaide heard this or would’ve appreciated it even if she did, the red-clad battler was presently writhing like a snake with a broken back and fouling the air with a string of profanity not suitable for print or any of the Nine Hells for that matter.
Becky remained unmoved, the memories of what this woman had done to her after their first match still far too fresh to let her view Adelaide’s suffering with anything other than grim satisfaction. Without really thinking about it, she reached down, grabbed hold of Brewster’s hair and yanked her head off the floor just to bounce it once, twice, three times! “You want this to be over, honeybunch?” she asked the bloodied, twitching brunette. “Tell me you want this to be over, and I’ll put you out right now. Or keep running your mouth and I’ll beat your ass all the way up that--”
Clayton gnashed her teeth when Adelaide took hold of her wrist and bore down like she meant to break the skin. “
The abattoir does not ask permission of the chattel.” Brewster groaned. “It simply takes what is there and waits for morHHHRRRGGHHHH!”
Bex switched from her hair grip to a snug goozle around Adelaide’s throat. “Tonight you get everything you wanted and then some, Brewster.” the Peacekeeper promised. “Tonight you’ll f*cking choke on it.”
Clambering to her feet with Adelaide rasping along in her wake, Clayton treated her fellow former champion to a single strong Headbutt (targeting the cut over her eye of course) before welcoming the Queen of Nightmares into a strong Bear Hug. Several strong squeezes had Brewster scratching and clawing at the blonde’s biceps, thus ensuring she wasn’t paying attention to Clayton’s footwork, which had maneuvered them to the base of the ramp. “Your high chair is waiting, Addy.” Clayton murmured in Adelaide’s ear even as she poured on the pressure. “It looks hungry.”
“And it will fuuuhh… feast on you soon enough, chatHWHOAAANOOFFHHH!”
The BFG got low just to take her burden over, around and of course down, Becky SLAMMING Brewster onto the floor courtesy of a crushing Belly to Belly Suplex. Careful to break the Waistlock prior to impact, Clayton secured it again, then got to her feet with Adelaide dangling in the Waistlock. A little higher up the ramp now, Becky popped her hips for the second time in perhaps five seconds to smash the air from Adelaide’s lungs with another emphatic Belly to Belly Suplex!
Having regained their usual exuberance following the unpleasantness with the Spinebuster, the Howling Commandos bellowed ‘HAT TRICK!’ over and over again as the Peacekeeper once again returned to boot-leather. “I shouldn’t even bother seating you in that damned chair.” Becky was back at the Bear Hug, her knotted fists just digging and gnashing at the increasingly vulnerable lower back of Adelaide Brewster. “I should just fold you over one of the armrests so I can whip your ass liked you did mine.”
“Yuuuuuhhhh… you don’t have the nerve, chattel.” Adelaide rasped. She was still trying to free herself from Clayton’s grasp, though her efforts had grown considerably weaker. “You’re too compassionate, even when you know what needs to be done. Even when you know what I’ll do if you faiNNNNNGGGGGGHHH!”
Becky THWHAMMED the Weeping Angel onto the ramp with a third Suplex and while such a series would’ve taken them from one side of the ring to the other, it had brought them little more than halfway up the aisle. This didn’t concern Clayton in the slightest, she simply got up with that tenacious Waistlock still in place and--“AAAAAAAHHHHHH! FREAKIN’ PSYCHO!” Becky bellowed in disgust as a hollow-eyed Sierra Mist sprang onto her back, the fanatical flyweight ripping and tearing at the big blonde! “GET THE HELL OFFA ME MIST OR SO HELP ME GOD!”
Clayton could’ve plucked Mist from her six with no effort at all if she’d just let go of Brewster, but she wouldn’t do it, not with the Daughter of Darkness practically out on her feet. “ Call to whatever divinity you like, chattel.” Sierra hissed in Becky’s ear. “It won’t answer in time to save HHHRRGGHHH!”
Becky abandoned the Bear Hug, reached back with both hands and took possession of the meddler’s head. Pulling like she meant to bare great patches of Mist’s scalp, Becky threw it into full reverse and didn’t stop until she felt Sierra’s spine BWAAANG against the guardrail that kept the action from spilling into the aisle-side fans. The Scissors on her waist fell away in the aftermath of that gawdawful collision, but damned if Sierra wouldn’t abandon the Sleeper she’d cinched around Clayton’s throat.
“Grrrhhh… gonna break you in half, honeybunch.” Becky promised as she stomped away from the steel in anticipation of unleashing another chiropractic calamity. “Then I’m gonna do it again, just to make certNNNNNGGGGGGHHHH!”
Adelaide rushed across the aisle, leapt up and wrapped her arms around the back of Sierra’s head, the Queen of Nightmares using her follower to ensure Clayton couldn’t avoid the upraised knee that THUNKED against her forehead when Brewster dropped to the floor!
SINGLE KNEE FACEBREAKER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zyikygs10l4
The Single Knee Facebreaker shot Becky up on tiptoe, her grip on Sierra forgotten as both arms windmilled wildly to keep the Destroyer verti-- Sierra sprang, wedged both knees between Clayton’s shoulders and dropped to her back to THWHUMP the air from Becky’s body with a surprise Lungblower!
LUNGBLOWER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=nnJeIvG8_CM
A moment of stunned silence from the Cellar Dwellers gave way to incredulous rage when Brewster and Mist got to their feet and loomed over the splattered blonde. Grinning ferociously as she drank in the bipedal ruin at their feet, Adelaide wiped the hair off her forehead and huffed, “Excellent work, Sierra. Your training is coming along splendidly.”
“Thank you, mistress. I’m only sorry I wasn’t able to prevent the chattel from her brazen cheating.”
“Fear not. Our enemy is cunning, but our cause is righteous… and our hunger is insatiable. Which reminds me…” Adelaide leaned down, plunged a hand into Becky’s hair and hauled her to boot-leather in a series of fits and starts.
“How may I assist you?” Mist asked as the Angel of the Abattoir turned Clayton around and trapped her left arm overhead with a Half Nelson.
“Procure a chair from one of the heathens.” Brewster spoke to Sierra, but her lips were brushing Clayton’s right ear. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m feeling a bit peckish.”
“Duuuuhhh… don’t you f*cking dare.” Becky’s words were as sluggish as her movements, the Peacekeeper clearly rocked after the tandem offense. “I mean it, Brewster. Keep your teeth to OOOOOOHHHH GAAAAHHHHHD!”
Adelaide ignored the warning in favor of chomping down on the base of her blonde’s neck! Becky answered the bite with a vigorous hair pull, alas she soon found herself under attack on multiple fronts when the brunette pulled down her top and set to work on the BFG’s fearsome frontage!
“Submit if you like.” Brewster came up for air long enough to murmur in Clayton’s ear. “Submit to me and I’ll make your journey to the Crimson Throne as pleasant as possiRRRGGGHH!”
Becky relinquished the hair-hold in favor of jamming her right elbow into the other wrestler’s ribs no less than half a dozen times. “You’ll cripple me before I submit.” the blonde promised. “And you’re not strong enough to cripple me AdelaNNUUFFFHH!”
Brewster pumped a few Kneelifts into her opponent’s protesting glutes, then shifted from groping to sharp tweaking, Adelaide alternating from left to right and back again as she continued to sup on the former World Champ’s fighting spirit. Vaguely aware that the crazy bytch had started backpedaling up the ramp, Clayton dug in her heels as best she could, but every bit of resistance was met with another twist or another bite, sometimes both at once. “Shall I drink you dry, Rebecca?” Adelaide nipped Becky’s ear even as she twisted her nubs. “Leave you a desiccated, humiliated husk? Or will you beg me to spare enough to let you keep--”
“Never.” Becky interrupted as she flailed at the brunette’s encroaching pincer. “Never beg you for any--OH YOU BYTCH STOP! STOP! STAAAAAAAHHHP!”
Adelaide, who’d thrust her hand down the front of Clayton’s trunks for a three-fingered assault on the blonde’s womanhood, increased her efforts until Becky’s knees ground together. “I have no desire to stop,” Brewster murmured in between bites. “Nor do you, if you’re being honest. Be honest with me, soldier.”
Bex bit her bottom lip, shook her head ‘no’ and grabbed hold of her tormentor’s wrist in hopes of breaking the Crotch Claw. Adelaide gnawed a little harder, plunged a little deeper, then removed her talon and resumed her previous attacks on the Peacekeeper’s nipples. Becky cried out, tried to follow the brunette’s hand and always found herself a heartbeat or two behind. As soon as she caught Brewster’s wrist the Angel of the Abattoir would move on, expertly pillaging all three targets in that triangle of torment with occasional forays to Clayton’s gulping belly.
Hunching forward ever so slightly as Becky’s legs went from strong to wavering to watery, Adelaide abruptly clamped down on her opponent’s crotch and straightened up, thus forcing her opponent to do the same. “Submit to me, Rebecca. Give yourself over to the Queen of Nightmares and--”
“Nuuuuhhhh… nuuuhhh…NO! Just get your f*cking hands offa--”
Brewster relinquished the claw in favor of a strong grip on the blonde’s togs at the right hip. In the same instant she dropped low and popped her hips to take Clayton up, over and oh dear lord, down, the wore-out Destroyer just BAWANGING onto the back of her head and shoulders as the victim of a truly malicious Half Nelson Suplex!
HALF NELSON SUPLEX:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=RWLafxS3VbE
Becky tumbled all the way through, reared up on her knees and reached out like she meant to brace a hand on the floor only to collapse in a facedown heap. As for Adelaide, she rolled back onto her shoulders, drew both knees up high and kicked out to spring to her feet with an ease that earned incensed boos from the AHE crowd. “Why this misplaced fury, chattel?” Brewster called to the throng. “This one’s suffering is almost at an end! Just a bit more preparation and she will be ready for the Crimson Throne!”
Indeed, the Suplex had left Becky sprawled at the top of the stage no more than five yards removed from that ghoulish chair. The Daughter of Darkness was still basking in the distress of those assembled when Sierra flitted into place on her left with the requested chair in one hand. Taking a moment to revel in the smoldering blonde wreckage, Mist offered the weapon to her patron. “Here you are, mistress.”
“Not for me, Sierra. Consider it my gift to you.” “You are most generous. How shall I dispatch the chattel?”
Adelaide smiled, let the tip of her tongue play over her canines. “I’m so glad you asked. Follow me.”
Brewster strolled up to her adversary, claimed a double handful of hair and scraped Becky off the floor only to draw her into a Standing Headscissors. From there she leaned forward and looped both arms around the Camouflage Crusher’s midsection. “Set the chair up and take your rightful place, Sierra. This is as much your victory as it is mine.”
Eyes alight, Mist did as bade while Brewster gathered her reserves and hoisted Clayton into the stall position for a Piledriver. This raised a rumble of concern from the crowd as well as Nick Castle, who’d rushed to join his charges as soon as Brewster delivered that awful Suplex. “Don’t do it, Adelaide!” the Senior Official called out as he closed the distance. “That’s too much, you don’t have to--f*ck.” With Adelaide holding Becky in place, Sierra gripped the soles of the blonde’s boots and hopped off to add all her weight to the short, brutal descent of the Piledriver that SPIKED the crown of Clayton’s skull into the stage floor!
SPIKE PILEDRIVER:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=auaheLWJJn8
Becky rolled away in a boneless heap that she would’ve occupied for a hundred count (if not longer) if Adelaide hadn’t buried her hands in the blonde’s hair and hauled her to her knees in fits and starts. Far more subdued than their name would indicate, the Howling Commandos did their best to rally themselves in order to do the same for their heroine, but a pall seemed to have fallen over the Madhouse, a heaviness that grew greater with each passing second.
Only Brewster seemed unaffected, indeed she looked almost sprightly as she hauled Clayton upright, then slipped an arm between her legs and hoisted the limp blonde across her shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry. The path to the Crimson Throne was clear, though this didn’t stop Sierra from keeping a watchful eye over her mistress as Adelaide tromped into the shadow of that grim receptacle. Another discontented murmur from the Cellar Dwellers once Becky was sloughed from Brewster’s shoulders into an insensate seat on the Throne. Nodding with satisfaction, Adelaide dropped to a knee and went to work securing one ankle and then the other within the rough leather straps. Mist moved in to speed the process only to stop when the Weeping Angel raised a hand.
“The rite must be performed alone, Sierra.” she explained while setting to work strapping down Becky’s left hand. “There can be no doubt about who truly deserves her place of honHHHRRRGGGHH!”
A roar of relieved delight when Clayton’s right hand shot out and grabbed Adelaide’s throat! “Chuuuhhh… choke you out…bytch.” the BFG promised as she scraped the bottom of her reserves to carry out the threat. “Choke you out and strap you doOOOOOWWWW FAAAAHHK!”
Not about to be denied in the eleventh hour, Brewster snatched the blonde’s wrist in both hands to wrest the stranglehold loose, then brought Becky’s hand to her lips and bit down as hard as she could! Clayton thrashed in place, but the restraints held her fast and it was only a matter of seconds before the brunette had strapped her right hand down. “Almost done now, chattel.” Adelaide ran her hands through Becky’s hair in an almost tender gesture that grew considerably less so when she dug in and BWUNKED the back of Bex’s skull against the headrest no less than half a dozen times. The Peacekeeper groaned pitiably and tried to slip loose of Brewster’s clutches, alas she had neither the energy or the mobility to prevent Adelaide from securing the final strap across her chin.
“Submit.” the Angel of the Abattoir was nose to nose with her nemesis. “Submit to me and I promise you will be mercifully unaware of what comes next. Refuse and…” she reached out with both hands and gave the Destroyer’s nipples a painful, lingering tweak. “…you will be wide awake.”
Becky was silent even as Adelaide continued to pluck and pull. Eventually she rasped, “Do your worst, bytch. You’ll get no more from me.”
“We both know that’s a lie.” Adelaide murmured. “But if that’s how you want it…” The Weeping Angel strode from the Throne to the switch that looked like an old fashioned circuit breaker. Offering Clayton a malicious smile she purred, “Welcome to the Killing Floor, Rebecca.”
She yanked the switch down with an ominous CLANK that was immediately forgotten by all in attendance thanks to the shower of red that poured out of the rafters to absolutely drench the Crimson Throne and its exhausted occupant.
If Brewster and Mist had expected some sort of terrified final girl shriek from Becky Clayton they were destined for disappointment, though the Announcer brought plenty of teeth gnashing from the fans. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner of the match… ADELAIDE BREWSTER!”
Pleased by the furious cacophony of her foe’s followers, Adelaide sauntered back to the Throne, turned around and hopped into a seat on Becky’s lap. Letting her legs dangle over the drippy right armrest, Brewster snaked her right arm around Clayton’s neck and leaned in close to make a show of licking the blonde’s cheek.
“Delicious.” she cooed. “I hope you enjoy the rest of the show, Rebecca. This is the best seat in the house, you know.” Becky groaned something that might’ve become words if the brunette hadn’t placed a hand over her mouth. “Hush. You can tell me later. I’ll see you later tonight, after you’ve closed your eyes. And every night after that. Sweet dreams, chattel.” She treated Clayton to a peck on the cheek, then climbed down from the Throne and disappeared through the curtain with Sierra trailing along a few steps behind.