Introduction to hell (Deschain vs Lamont)

A glossy black Range Rover pulled off the 426 and wound through the backstreets of Winter Park. The SUV slowed for a second at a narrow side street, tinted window sliding down a crack so the driver could get a clear view out, and then pull up smoothly outside a large old-looking industrial building. With the V8 cut off silence rushed back, magnifying the thunk of the door closing and the clicking of cowboy boots moving to the passenger side.


Retrieving a gym bag from the passenger seat, the driver pulled on a black snapback, which did nothing to cover the mane of blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, tugged the zip of her riding jacket a little higher to hide the flash of white tee beneath it, and took one last glance around at her surroundings, peering at several corners in the darkened street. Apparently satisfied that no one was watching, she moved quietly to the door and knocked twice.


The sound was unnaturally amplified in the quiet, and as the echoes died a metallic scratch of the bolt was audible from inside. The door ground open just a crack and came to a stop on the end of an entry chain, revealing nothing but darkness inside. After a second a voice rang out.


“Uh…hello?”


“I have an appointment.” The woman held a business card up to the opening, where it was quickly snatched by whomever was inside. Another pause, and the voice came again.


“An appointment? Um…what’s your name?”


“Isobel Lamont.”

ISOBEL LAMONT


The door pulled shut. Isobel had been expecting it to reopen without the chain, but instead there was only the sound of a muffled shout for someone’s attention. After another thirty seconds of slightly awkward waiting the door was pushed open once again, this time with no restraining chain, to reveal a face which would be immediately familiar to anyone worldwide who called themselves a fan of wrestling; Sydney Deschain.

SYDNEY DESCHAIN


“Isobel! Lovely to meet you in the flesh. Please come in.”


Lamont seemed slightly taken aback by this enthusiastic welcome, stepping over the threshold somewhat warily but removing her cap as a mark of respect before shaking the hand Sydney had offered her. “Howdy ma’am…”


The brunette’s hand released her own and moved up to her arm, Isobel using all of her composure to not pull away from the unexpected touch. “I hate being over formal. Please, call me Sydney, we’re mostly friends around here. Welcome. Since this is my private property it doesn’t have a name, but the others like to call it the Hellhole.”


“You can call me Isobel if you like, though most just say Bel. When we spoke on the phone you seemed to know who I am already. Mind if I ask how come?”


By now the pair had moved through into a much better lit atrium, Isobel’s eyes adjusting and flashing around quickly to take it in. Through one doorway she could see tiles and some industrial metal lockers, with the quiet sounds of a shower beyond. The voice which had originally greeted her was also coming from there, the cadence and pauses in her speech suggesting she was in quite an urgent debate with someone via a cellphone. On the other side was an open corridor, unlit but with several glass cases gleaming, suggesting a large area for displaying trophies. Next on from that was a closed door, its construction suggesting a steam room or sauna, opposite a currently unlit staircase to the property’s second floor. A pair of swing doors were set in the wall, opaque windows lit from behind, noises echoing to suggest a much larger open area just beyond.


“Let me see, Bel. You work for Zoe Scott and your relationship is somewhere beyond just professional. You’ve had two matches in FAWN, both of which you won by yourself but Zoe claimed the pin, and now I don’t think she’ll let you have any more. Then, in spite of your best efforts, your employer ran her mouth against Olivia Dare and got her ass kicked. Liv was impressed enough with you that she gave you this invite, and now I’m guessing you’re here to find out more. Does Zoe know you’re here?”


Isobel came to a stop just before the doors and grabbed Deschain’s arm, the brunette swinging around to face her. “No she doesn’t, and ‘scuse my forwardness but she best not learn about it from y’all. Miss Dare said to call you if I wanted to ‘branch out’. Might be she doesn’t understand, might be she’s trying to drive a wedge. Either way, however things might look, Scotty’s my girl. But she doesn’t need to know about this.”


“Whatever you say Bel.” Deschain’s voice was polite and gave no hint of sarcasm however hard Lamont might have looked. “Zoe won’t hear about your visit from anyone here. But now I’m wondering why you called.”


Hesitating for a second, the Texan decided that honesty was best. “You have something that I want. Sometimes I hear conversations backstage between people who’ve heard of this ’facility’. Mostly they don’t believe it’s real, but they always say it’s where the best come to train. I plan to be the best at what I do. So I’d like to know what y’all do here and why it’s so great. What I’m wondering is why y’all are interested in me, mi…Sydney. Because I don’t think Dare gave me that number without asking first.”


“I’ve been scouting fighters since you were in diapers. Now that FAWN doesn’t demand so much of my time…” Deschain’s tone suggested that retirement had happened in name only… “I’ve been indulging my interest a little more. Anciline and Bethany like me to run an eye over their talent, either here or at the Madhouse, and sometimes an ingénue will find me in the hopes of getting a fast track to the big league. Very few of them come back for a second visit. And, sometimes, people get invited even when they’ve only had two matches.


For the first time since crossing the threshold a real smile spread on Lamont’s lips. “Might’ve only had two wrestling matches but I reckon I’ve been in more fights’n you. And I drove here from my own apartment in my own Range Rover. It was my choice to come, and I ain’t asking for shortcuts to anywhere. I know y’all are giving me a rare opportunity, and I’m grateful, but if this is about putting myself in your debt then I can’t do that.”


There was a moment of silence, sharpened because the conversation and the shower sounds in the locker room had both ceased. Isobel quickly deduced that this was because the two (or more) people in there were listening to what she’d said and could be out at a moment’s notice if they disliked what they heard. It again took all her composure to not step back towards the door, especially when she saw Deschain hold up her hands and smile.


“I hear talk backstage too Isobel, and some of that is about you. If you’ve got potential we might be able to help you reach it, but I don’t know. Liv seems to think you might be more than just someone’s muscle. Cass watched a tape and thought so too, but like I said, two matches is no kind of experience to make judgements. I’d like to put you under a microscope and see whether you hold up to scrutiny, and I can show you what we do here at the same time. I won’t ask any more from you than that. And if you’re not up for it then no hard feelings but I don’t have much else to offer.”


Another pregnant pause before Lamont quietly asked “What do you want me to do?”


“I want you to fight, Bel. I hear that’s what you do best. If your gear’s in that gym bag then go change. There’s a ring through these doors, I’ll wait for you there.”


Glancing at Deschain’s attire, Isobel was quietly impressed. The Woodsboro Mangler definitely didn’t look retired, strong, lean and lethal in her black tank and gym shorts. Despite challenging a larger and younger opponent she radiated confidence. A little too much confidence for Lamont’s liking; there had to be something else going on. She subtly slid one foot back and shifted stance, now closer to her way out if she needed it.


“Fighting you? Pardon my saying, but I’m not gonna hurt a retired lady unless I’m being paid.”


“You think I can’t take care of myself, Isobel?” The tone was quiet and almost amused, but still carried enough threat to send the blonde backwards another half-step. This didn’t escape Sydney’s notice. “Are you really so afraid?”


Isobel shook her head, her blonde mane sent tumbling by the movement. “When you grow up on the streets you learn that fear’s what keeps you going. Ain’t scared of y’all, but there’s at least two bodies listening in that locker room and more through those doors. You already said Vale’s here. Things tend to go south pretty fast when people fight me, and five on one is bad odds.”


If Sydney was offended she hid it well. “I’ve not had someone else fight my battles in 25 years of wrestling, girl. These ladies know that, and even if they wanted to get involved I’d kick their ass twice as hard as anything they do to you. You know Cass won’t raise a finger unless she gets paid anyway. They might want to watch, but they damn sure aren’t getting between us.”


Head tilted to one side, Isobel took a long moment to think. She’d spent most of the day scouting the place and making sure Zoe was safely in New York so she couldn’t interfere. This was probably the best chance she had of finding out why this place was so special. On the other hand she didn’t like the sound of being scrutinised, especially at close quarters with Cassandra Vale. But all her plans required that she become the best she could be as a wrestler, and Deschain apparently held the key to that. In the end her enthusiasm won out.


Sending a small nod in Sydney’s direction, Isobel turned and padded over to the locker room, hearing the brunette’s murmured “good girl” as she turned to head through the doors. Camille Cosworth was waiting near the lockers, clearly heading home with her cheeks still carrying a little post-workout flush, while behind her Lily Burlingame tugged on a pair of skintight jeans. Bel offered both a quick nod of acknowledgement but turned away before she was tempted to talk, keeping back to them both as they each moved past out of the locker room. Lamont’s eyes scanned across the names on the lockers, committing each to memory, and then settled on her gym bag.


*****

When Isobel Lamont emerged from the locker room several minutes later her appearance was quite different. Her hair had been pulled back into a messy but functional ponytail held with a black band, with the dark jacket, boots and denim shorts all gone. Bel had actually brought several outfits to cover the various eventualities she could think of, but had settled on a simple white sports bra which was sturdy enough to contain her bounteous chest whilst still leaving plenty on show, double-thick black lycra shorts, and the scuffed white boots and pads she had worn in her scant official FAWN appearances.


She quickly pushed through the double doors into a large open plan area, stopping to take in the squared circle in the centre with its plain black ropes and grey canvas. Spread around the perimeter was a variety of gleaming, state-of-the art weight training equipment, cardio machines and matting, but almost everything including the lighting was focused towards that squared circle. A dark gallery ran along the back wall and overlooked everything. Low light made it hard to make out the figures standing up there, but Isobel thought one pale frame might be Lenore Lemarchand, next to a tall man whom she didn’t know, and the shorter woman who joined them was likely to be the recently showered Lily Burlingame.


What made Bel far more worried were the people she could definitely identify. Off to one side, Veronica Treymane was clad in workout gear and finishing up an impressive looking set on the bench press, sitting up and looking her way after the last ‘clang’ of the bar. And up in the ring, watching quietly as Deschain went through her time-honoured warm up stretches, was Cassandra Vale as promised.


Bel was still for another second, recalculating the odds of getting out without a gang beat-down. Burlingame had a pretty honourable rep, and for a self-appointed mobster Treymane seemed on the level. Even Lemarchand had been on the side of the angels recently. Vale was decidedly more threatening, but Isobel had been hoping to meet the merc for some time and was unlikely to get such a good opportunity again.


As soon as she noticed the new arrival Sydney interrupted her warmup routine and took a seat on the middle rope, inviting the younger woman into her domain. “We have two rules in my gym. One, you don’t interfere with what another girl’s doing unless she asks and two, whatever you do, you go as hard as you can. Don’t hold out on me. Understand?”


“I understand. I guess we’ve got a referee. You planning to wrestle, or wanting me to fight?”


Sydney cocked her head. “I don’t know about you Bel, but I’m planning to win. If you’re anything like as tough as people say you are then I guess you’ll be fighting pretty hard too. But I don’t think that’s what you mean, so how about you tell me what you’d like to do?”


Allowing herself a final second to be sure, Isobel decided it was time to commit fully to whatever was about to happen. “Beg your pardon, but a real fight isn’t about holding someone down for a spell. When I go all in I don’t have a referee, and things don’t end unless someone’s quit or someone’s out.”


Before Deschain could reply Cassandra Vale spoke up. “Trust me, I’m not going to interfere. I’ll keep things safe if need be, but Sydney just wants me to get a close look. You’re saying you want to fight to knockout or submission. I take it that’s ok Syd?”


The two veterans shared a glance, Deschain already nodding. “Show me everything you’ve got Isobel. You’ll need it.”


This time there was no pause for thought, Bel hopping up to the apron with surprising lightness for someone of her size. She took her time slipping through the ropes, dipping low so Sydney and their select audience could get a good look at the cleavage spilling from her sports bra, then stepped up towards the waiting Technical Marvel.


Sydney noted Lamont’s display with the ghost of a smile. During her two plus decades as a wrestler and catfighter she’d faced whole calendars worth of busty blondes, a good many of them from the Lone Star State and a hulking rack had long since ceased to intimidate. Which wasn’t to say ‘Bel wasn’t impressive, because nothing was further from the truth. Her physique brought to mind Shannen Dennehy in her Milk Running prime and comparisons to the dreaded Pandora would’ve been quite understandable. Still, she was in the Hellhole now, in Sydney Deschain’s personal ring and she meant to show the newcomer exactly what that entailed.


Positioned between blonde and brunette, Cassandra Vale looked to each, then said, “Obey my commands at all times or I’ll make you sorry. Understand?”


Sydney nodded, ‘Bel did the same and that was good enough for the merc. Vale backed off, pointing her charges at one another as she did so. “I’m not going to bother with a bell. Get to it.”


The Mangler stepped forward with hands held high, so ‘Bel raised hers to meet the clinch. This proved a painful mistake as Deschain abruptly whipped her left hand up, then down in a whistling overhand Slap that CRAAACKED against the golden slope of her opponent’s décolletage. ‘Bel grimaced and staggered a half step, that was all. Without so much as a word she stormed into the breach with a stiff right Jab aimed square at Syd’s chin. Her hand-speed was such that Deschain didn’t have time to dodge, rather she snapped her head back to negate the worst of the blow. Even so it ‘clacked’ her teeth together and the brunette understood she didn’t want to brawl with the curvaceous newcomer.


“Slappin’ my tits ain’t going to do anything but piss me off, ma’am.” Lamont informed from behind a classic boxer’s stance. “But if you really want an eyeful keep tryin’ to NGH!”


Sydney shot a left straight through ‘Bel’s guard, the veteran’s hand catching her foe’s face hard enough to make her eyes water. “I’ll slap you wherever and whenever I please, girl.” Deschain chided the surprised brawler. “Because this is my ring and until you prove otherwise you’re nothing but a fresh slice SPAM in a swim--”


Lamont lashed out with a saloon quality Haymaker that might’ve had Syd spitting teeth if she hadn’t dipped her head and spun behind her foe like a cool breeze. Snatching a handful of ‘Bel’s waistband the instant she claimed her six, Deschain reeled her into a short, tart Forearm Smash that THWHAPPED against the Texan’s lower back. The shot froze Lamont’s synapses just long enough for the Marvel to cinch her up around the ribs with a hard Waistlock. Knotted hands gouging deep into ‘Bel’s tummy, Sydney dropped her hips and--


‘Bel clamped down on the veteran’s wrists with both hands and got as low as she could, effectively thwarting the German Suplex attempt. Pressed close against the younger woman’s back, Deschain made her pay for the defiance with a pair of quick Kneelifts to ‘Bel’s glutes. Baring her teeth more in anger than pain, Lamont let out a low growl and earned her first murmur of appreciation from the small audience when she wrenched Sydney’s hands apart! Far more important, she reared forward then thrust her hips back to THWHAP the medicine ball of her backside into the shorter woman’s midsection.


Syd grunted, then groaned when Lamont whipped around and used the remaining Wristlock to yank her hostess into a Kneelift, or rather a Thighlift, as ‘Bel pivoted on impact to make sure she caught her foe’s tummy with the broadest, sturdiest expanse of her thigh. Syd doubled over but didn’t go down, so ‘Bel put a steadying hand on the back of her neck and brought a cudgeling Overhead Forearm Smash THWHAPPING down across the vulnerable woman’s shoulders! Deschain collapsed to all fours, the sight of it bringing a smile to the visitor’s face. “Hope you’re not tirin’ out already.” she plunged a hand into the veteran’s dark hair and gave it a sharp yank. “Because I haven’t even warmed up WHOAAANNNGGGHH!”


Sydney hooked ’Bel just above the knees, muscled her up and dumped her flat on her back all in the span between heartbeats. It was an exceedingly simple takedown to be sure, one that wouldn’t keep the Texan in trouble for long unless Deschain made the most of it. Of course, Syd’s career was a study in making the most of her time, so it didn’t come as a surprise to Vale or any of the other Hellhole regulars when the Mangler grabbed hold of her blonde’s right ankle and sprang to her feet. Pushing Lamont’s foot forward to get a better angle on her target, Deschain planted on one foot and fired off three snappy Toe Kicks in rapid succession, each blow gouging into the meat of her foe’s thigh.


Lamont pounded an angry fist against the mat, drew her left knee up against her chest and fired off a kick, but Sydney twisted aside and made the ingénue pay for the effort with a quick Kneedrop, also to the back of her thigh. Straightening up immediately thereafter, Sydney stuffed Lamont’s captured ankle under her left arm, then planted her right foot atop the blonde’s left ankle and leaaaaaaaaaaaaned forward to stretch the powerhouse’s legs in a painful Wishbone.


Gritting her teeth against the pain shooting through her stems, ‘Bel braced both elbows against the mat and sat up as best she could. A quick look around was not the most encouraging. Deschain had her bogged down in the middle of the ring and though the Scotty’s Fixer was certain she could free one or both legs from the veteran’s clutches, she didn’t like the thought of how much punishment her legs might endure in the inter--”Nnnnnngggggggghhhhhhhhh!” Syd pulled ‘Bel’s right foot out from under her arm and stretched her legs that much wider, the Texan well beyond forty-five degrees en route to a full ninety degrees.


Vale was certain she knew the answer, yet wearing the stripes entailed certain responsibilities even in a place like the Hellhole. So she circled around and dropped to one knee beside the grounded blonde. “You’re not about to disappoint me, are you Lamont?”


‘Bel snorted in disgust. “Gonna take a lot more than some hot yoga bullshyt to make me RRRRGGHHH DAMMIT!” Sydney tucked the trapped leg away, then dipped beneath it and dropped to the mat to THWHUMP Lamont’s knee against the deck with a modified Dragon Screw.


GROUNDED DRAGON SCREW:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=3j3tHwYh7aI


‘Bel sat bolt upright and clutched at the throbbing joint, pain obvious on her pretty features. But Isobel Lamont was no stranger to fights and no stranger to pain, which explained how she rolled to all fours almost immediately. Syd noted the quickness of her foe’s recovery and filed it away for future reference. Already knowing that she needed to keep Lamont on the canvas as much as possible, Deschain stalked up behind her blonde, grabbed hold of her right ankle and pulled that leg out and back. ‘Bel didn’t bother to complain, she only dug in her nails and made for the ropes as fast as she “NNNNNNNNGGGGHHH!”


ANOTHER GROUNDED DRAGON SCREW:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=XFB2Z2D68Bg


The Mangler spun and dropped out again, drilling the taller woman’s knee into the thinly-sheathed plywood for the second time in less than a minute! “Warmed up yet?” Sydney asked after she’d once again laid claim to the Texan’s right ankle. “I hope so, otherwise you may not last much longer.”


“Shut up and fight you old--” ‘Bel clenched her jaw to silence a shriek when Deschain spun around her vulnerable leg and dropped to the mat, scissoring her legs around the captured gam in the process.


KNEEBAR:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=7BL684yRgoY


It wasn’t nearly so iconic as the Figure Four, but Sydney’s Kneebar still proved quite effective, as evidenced by the way Lamont sat up and scrabbled at her attacker’s stems. Unmoved by this defense, cinched an arm around ‘Bel’s ankle to hold it snug against her chest and thus apply more torque to the blonde’s knee.


“Fight out or tap out, girl.” the brunette demanded of her suffering opposition. “That’s how things are done around here.”


Breathing deep to get over the initial rush of pain, Isobel flexed her leg and tested out just how well the hold was applied. The answer, perhaps unsurprisingly, was that Syd had the limb locked tight, but those thick calf muscles managed to earn a fraction of an inch of give while adding enough leverage at her hips to turn to one side. This meant that the ropes were a little closer, but also allowed her to raise her other leg and drive it down, the heel of her boot stomping into Deschain’s abs.

If she had been expecting the stomp to relieve a little pressure Bel was significantly disappointed, in fact Deschain clamped down even harder to draw a small, sucked-in yelp from the blonde. But a few follow ups did at earn a hiss of annoyance from the older woman, and helped to distract from the fact that Lamont had dragged herself to within inches of the ropes.

“I thought you said ‘real fights’ don’t have rope breaks tough girl?” Syd scoffed, giving an extra hard jerk on that limb as her victim reached out to grab the bottom cable with both hands. Bel groaned a little but didn’t say a thing, her opponent and referee watching as she dragged her way even closer and reached up to hook the middle rope then stretched again to the top strand. “Who said anything about breaks?” She asked quietly.

Without waiting for a reply the Texan pulled hard and threw herself forwards, using that extra height to push outwards and over Deschain. The wrench on her captured knee was excruciating, but it seemed well worth it as the trapped limb popped free and she sprawled forwards and downwards, her full weight dropping onto the brunette. Sydney’s world was dimmed as the bigger woman’s monumental rack enveloped her features, Bel cupping a hand behind her head to keep her buried in pillowy darkness.

Despite the discomforted caused by that dominating décolletage it was clear both to Sydney and to the observers that this wasn’t the full front sleeper; at this stage Lamont was using her assets to rob the Marvel of her senses rather than her breath. But Syd was still stuck in pressing darkness and silence, unaware and unable to prevent the bigger woman from shifting herself onto her feet and rotating around until WHAM! A knee fired up and smashed into Syd’s floating rib, replacing the darkness of that fleshy prison with sickening pain.

GROUNDED KNEESTRIKE

www.youtube.com/watch?v=TOYcFfG0Fxo

The shot was hard enough to send Deschain a good few feet away from the big blonde but Bel was quick to close the distance, reaching around to hook a quick half-nelson on the same side she had already brutalised. Lamont took a second to widen her stance and then simply powered upwards, using the nelson as a lever to lift Sydney up and then back down to the matt on her side.

DEADLIFT HALF-NELSON SLAM

www.youtube.com/watch?v=V7XsIYynh3U

Under normal circumstances there might be an expectation of a pin attempt after this demonstration of power. Lamont did dive on top of the veteran, but only to slam a forearm into her jaw and raising her fist back up and swinging it down again into the side of her neck to earn a groan. “I get why y’all want to take out my knee,” she said calmly to the grounded Mangler, “but any time you get in close your spine and your neck are gonna pay the price.”

No immediate response from the veteran, who seemed more concerned with warding off those blows and trying to get out from under the bigger woman’s sprawled weight. Lamont’s fist descended again, aiming for Sydney’s jaw but being diverted by a hasty guard. And then the Technical Marvel demonstrated exactly how she had earned that nickname, moving with lethal fluidity to slide under a wayward strike and loop her arms in tight around the bigger woman’s neck!

Suddenly forced to fight a choke, Bel instinctively brought both hands up and reared away, rolling to her haunches. Unfortunately this just played further into Deschain’s hands, the extra space allowing her to bring her legs up around the younger woman’s thick waist and squeeze down at both ends of the hold. Denied breath by the choke and with those vice-like legs sawing into her core, Lamont had little option but to drop forwards again, the previously dominant blonde suddenly swimming in deep and troubled waters.

FLYING GUILLOTINE CHOKE

www.youtube.com/watch?v=rd82iJSxIo8

Ideally Syd would have liked to get the blonde back on the floor, but Zoe’s fixer demonstrated surprising composure alongside her strength and managed to stay on her feet. She couldn’t stop herself from hunching over though, arms wheeling uselessly as she was forced to carry all of Deschain’s weight on her already squeezed neck. Cass bent forwards to address her. “I’ve seen stronger girls than you get choked out Lamont. Question is, are you better than them?”

Mired deep and with her windpipe compressed, Isobel wasn’t able to respond verbally. She waggled a finger, which was enough to satisfy the Merc, but Deschain answered for her anyway. “I don’t think you should let her quit yet Cass, she’s only just learning that power is nothing without technique…”

Ignoring the veteran’s words, Isobel focussed on setting her legs and flexing her core to sloooooooowly stand back upright. She took a few stomping steps, Vale backing away as she anticipated a trip to the ropes. But the big blonde was still determined to get out of this on her own terms and chose to do so by charging not to the ropes but into the corner, slamming the Mangler’s back into the buckles.

The impact was enough to loosen the scissors cutting into her waist, and without that anchor Sydney was vulnerable. To capitalise Bel took a few steps back out into the ring and shifted her hands; one pressing into Deschain’s trim stomach, the other hooking her bottoms. A big heave was enough to lift the older woman off her and into a vertical suplex position, but before Lamont could complete the next phase of her plan she felt her burden suddenly shift, the Mangler kicking her weight out and swinging smoothly down and under to tear the Texan off her feet and into a brutal head first impact!

SWINGING DDT

www.youtube.com/watch?v=o1kMq_ciJlk (@ 0:26)

Face driven into the canvas, Isobel bounced upwards a little and then flopped onto her front, unmoving as the slick counter earned a few impromptu claps from the onlookers. Syd allowed herself a small smile but was otherwise all business, scrambling around and kneewalking to Lamont’s legs. Collecting one ankle, the Technical Marvel used it as a lever to roll the apparently insensate blonde onto her back and then tucked it between her own thighs, spinning to force that joint into the classic figure four position…

…Which was interrupted the second she turned her back. Dismissing the fog in her head Bel sprung back to life, bringing her other leg up and pushing her boot powerfully into the older woman’s derriere. Sydney was sent stumbling forwards into the nearby ropes, bouncing awkwardly off her chest and then backwards right into a clubbing forearm from the now kneeling Fixer which ‘SMECK’ed wetly into her lower back.

Isobel was up on her feet in an instant, stepping to one side and firing up a short kneelift which Syd couldn’t quite evade. The blow pitched her forwards, Lamont stepping around to thump another forearm into her back, then bending forwards to wrap tight around her waist. It only took a second for the Texan to set her feet and haul upwards, swinging Deschain’s weight up, over, and DOWN into the canvas.

GUTWRENCH POWERBOMB

www.youtube.com/watch?v=G-vwlZ6ZknU

Sydney was smeared into the barely-covered plywood, the select audience letting out a few appreciative noises at yet another display of power. Bel was impassive though, grasping at the stunned Mangler’s legs and stepping between them. Turning around with those gams still in her grasp pulled Deschain over onto her front, making it easy for the big blonde to walk back a few steps and plant her legs either side of the grounded battler’s hips. Her curvy derriere dropped to a point just an inch or so above the small of Deschain’s back, leaning back to secure a simple but hellaciously effective Boston Crab!

“Fight out or tap out lady” Bel snarled to the trapped Technical Marvel.

Vale suppressed a smile mostly out of respect for Syd, rather than any concern for the decorum of impartiality. More and more impressed with the blonde’s technique with each passing minute, the Chaos Consultant dropped to one knee beside her charges to better assess the situation. “What do you say, Sydney? You need to throw in the towel?”


Deschain, who’s forehead and forearms had been pressed to the canvas, looked over at the official and grunted, “I’m fine, Cass. She’s strong, but she’s not Pandora strongGEEERRRRHHHHHHH!”


‘Bel thumped her tush into the small of Deschain’s back, then slid back so her seat was several inches higher. “No need to talk to her, old timer.” Lamont snapped. “I’m the one who decides when you get out of this.”


Cass didn’t bother hiding the grin this time, though whether it was in response to ‘Bel’s attitude or Sydney’s imagined response thereto, she didn’t bother to say.


Simultaneously pleased and pissed off by the newcomer’s audacity, the Mangler took a deep breath and puuuuuuushedup until she was able to switch over from her forearms to her hands. The increased elevation did nothing for the torque on her spine, but it increased her mobility quite a bit, as Lamont discovered when the brunette started dragging them closer to the ropes. Lips pursed as she considered her options, ‘Bel rose up a little and dropped back down, the curvaceous Fixer using her rump like a bludgeon to slow her foe’s progress. Or at least that was the plan. To Isobel’s growing consternation, Deschain bent her arms in time with the Butt Bombs, thus allowing her to muffle the impact enough to minimize the impact on her progress to the strands.


Far from concerned about honoring a requested rope break (she might, but she’d give the veteran a whole heap of shyt for it) Lamont was more concerned about Syd producing another tide-turning counter like the Guillotine or that damned DDT. Unwilling to take that sort of risk, ’Bel wrenched on the Crab until Syd was barely a foot removed from the ropes then she straightened up and walked / dragged the protesting grappler all the way to the middle of the squared circle! The collected talents of the Hellhole murmured in concern before breaking into a smattering of applause as Deschain used the decreased pressure (and increased height) to tuck her head and swing backward through ‘Bel’s planted stems.


Started by the sudden negation of her hold, Lamont adjusted on the fly by wedging Syd’s knees under her armpits and-- “UUUUNNNNNNGGGGGHHHH!”


Lamont sagged as Deschain bore down on the improvised Scissors, those vaunted stems putting gawdawful pressure on her ribs. Even then ‘Bel didn’t panic, another point in her favor, as far as Vale was concerned. Setting her feet as best she could, the big blonde let out an effortful grunt as she hoisted Syd off the mat and started to spin. It wasn’t a traditional Giant Swing by any means, but she was confident she could disorient the tenacious old bat long enough to NO!”


Syd ‘cruched’ her way up and hooked an arm around the back of ‘Bel’s skull to keep herself eye to eye with the younger woman. Straining back to keep clear of another choke, Lamont huffed, “You’re just delaying the inevitabNGH! NGH! NGH!”


Deschain clouted her across the mouth with a trio of Forearm Smashes stiff enough to turn Bel’s rotations into nothing more than a drunken stagger. “Go ahead and run your mouth some more, little girl.” Syd taunted after a spiteful blow to the Texan’s rack. “You’ll be kissing the canvas before too NNNNNNGGGHHHHH!”


Well and truly riled now, Lamont gave up on the Swing and drove a single Headbutt between Deschain’s eyes. The Scissors on her waist loosened enough for ‘Bel to break ‘em apart and from there it was child’s play to muscle the smaller woman across her shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry. “We’ll see who’s kissin’ what here in a minute, grandma.” Pointing herself at a corner on the far side of the ring, ‘Bel got a running start and threw herself into a gorgeous tuck n’ roll that THWHUMPED Sydney’s abused back against the thinly-sheathed plywood!


ROLLING FIREMAN'S CARRY:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=WISkdn00rsY


‘Bel rolled clear and popped to boot-leather almost in grabbin’ distance of the corner. Ready to make a statement for anyone who cared to listen, Lamont slipped out onto the apron and climbed to the top turnbuckle. No theatrics from the Fixer, she only set her feet, then launched herself out into the void, ‘Bel folding herself in half for a mid-air toe touch that meant there was even more impact behind the landing when she THWHUMPED down… on Deschain’s upraised knees!


Bouncing away from the landing like her target was spring-loaded, ‘Bel landed hard on her side, rolled to all fours and started to rise only to immediately take a knee. A short distance away, Sydney drew in a deep breath and shunted aside her aches and pains in favor of visiting more upon the newcomer. On her feet a few seconds later, she stalked down ‘Bel’s back trail and grabbed hold of the Texan’s waistband just as she rose a second time. Lamont was quick with a Back Elbow, alas the brunette kept low and punished her opponent’s lower back with a stiff Forearm Smash. ‘Bel grunted, stumbled forward, then yelped in dismay when Deschain used her briefs reel her in for a second shot. No stumble this time, Lamont stayed frozen in place as Deschain grabbed hold of her left ankle and forced the blonde’s heel up against her rump. The Fixer slapped on a Side Headlock in hopes of keeping herself grounded, but it didn’t stop Sydney from muscling the larger woman high into the air! The Mangler brought her down a heartbeat later and even Vale cringed at the nasty THUNK of shin on knee.


SHINBREAKER:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=y3bZFSbYBcU


‘Bel cursed, collapsed to one knee, then forced herself to rise. A gutsy display to be sure, although perhaps not the wisest course considering that Sydney was ready and waiting to catch her in a snug Half Nelson. Cranking the blonde’s left arm high overhead, Deschain crooked her right hand into a claw and got a bit of revenge on that smothering rack with a single hardhearted squeeze to ‘Bel’s right breast. “BYTCH!” ‘Bel snapped as Syd followed with a sharp swat. “You’re gonna pay for WHOOAANNNNNGGGHH!” The Technical Marvel caught hold of those double thick lycra trunks, got low and popped her hips to take Lamont up, over and down with a Half Nelson Suplex that PLANTED her on the back of her head and neck.


HALF NELSON SUPLEX:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=CzUFgcsJ-RA


Flopped over onto her belly in the wake of the huge throw, ‘Bel cradled her achin’ skull for only a second or two before she planted her hands and started fighting to all-- another meaty THUD as Deschain strode over, took to the skies and brought the back of her right thigh crashing down on the blonde’s neck with a Leg Drop that doubled as a Bulldog. Pretty face set in a cold glare, Syd spun to one knee and ‘snapped’ her trunks into place. “Keep getting up and I’ll keep putting you down, tough girl.”


The words were still leaving her mouth when ‘Bel reached out, the wounded warrior searching for anything to grab. Sydney countered with a double handful of hair and aggressively scrubbed Lamont’s face against the canvas until Cassandra demanded, “Enough, Syd.” The veteran switched over to a grip on the Fixer’s ears, which proved more than enough to haul Isobel to verticality. “Got big on me back there, ‘Bel.” Deschain admitted in the midst of snuggling in against Lamont’s left side. “Only fair I did the same to you.” Lamont whined in protest, a helpless sound she loathed, unfortunately it only got louder when the brunette reached under her left leg and yanked it off the mat in a sort of sideways Cradle. Once that was done the Marvel slipped her right hand though ‘Bel’s left armpit and cupped the base of her neck, effectively forcing the taller wrestler to inspect her own cleavage. Syd held her prey just long enough to let ‘Bel think about it, then she sank into a deep crouch and hurled her backward into a cringe-worthy landing flush on the back of her head and shoulders.


STIR OF EHCOES:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=EIVy0FRHucg


Turned inside out by the Stir of Echoes, Isobel Lamont rose to all fours, trembled like a leaf in a gale, then slopped out flat on her face and prodigious chest. Unmoved by the vulnerability, Syd circled around to the blonde’s ankles, took hold and dragged her into the middle of the ring. From there she turned her over, took hold of ‘Bel’s right leg and took it for a spin between her thighs. A quiet buzz of anticipation from those in attendance when Sydney seized the hurtin’ left leg, stretched it out full length and laid the bent right across it at the shin. This was followed by polite but enthusiastic applause when she dropped to a seat and hooked her free leg over the Texan’s exposed right ankles. Hands braced firm against the deck, Deschain forced a vile constriction through her stems and hoisted her butt a good six inches off the mat to add even more pressure to the Figure Four.


“Sounds like you’re giving up.” Syd told ‘Bel, who’d jammed her mouth in the crook of one elbow to stifle a scream. “Go ahead whenever you’re ready, Lamont. Just make sure to tap out on my thigh when you do.”

Trying to block out the throb of pain in her knee, Isobel searched for some focus to consider how to get out. Her attempts at calm were interrupted by the sight of Cassandra Vale leaning into her vision. “That looks like it hurts!” the Merc observed happily. “You need me to make her let you go?”

Voice surprisingly steady, Isobel growled “The only thing I need you to do is get out of the way!” Vale nodded as the Fixer reached forward, crunching her abs until her hands could scrabble at the knot around her knee. This didn’t look to be a very effective way out, but just to make sure Sydney curled upwards herself and THWAPPED a stiff Knife-Edge Chop into Lamont’s prodigious chest, sending her back to prone with her tits stinging.

“No way out there, big girl,” Syd chided, “Have you got any other bright ideas?” Vale and several audience members sniggered, but Lamont didn’t seem to be laughing at all. Her anger didn’t translate into words though, instead she fired another fist up off the canvas and followed the momentum of this one, turning herself onto her hip and knee with Deschain still tied to her legs! They wavered there, on the edge of tipping over, until the veteran said “Did you really think it was going to be that easy?” and torqued her hips back the other way.

Far from disheartened, it seemed that Isobel had actually anticipated this. In fact the big Texan threw all her weight in the same direction, stealing Deschain’s momentum to roll back the other way and onto her tummy. Unfortunately for her Syd wasn’t known as the Technical Marvel for nothing, continuing the pair’s barrel roll to flip right back over again and then squeezing as hard as she could to bring an involuntary moan from Bel.

“Like I said, it isn’t going to be that easy.” Syd’s voice was stern as she continued “We both know your knee’s in a bad way. There’s no shame in getting beat. Tap right now and maybe you won’t have to tell ‘Scotty’ why you’re on crutches.”

Neither option was particularly appealing to Bel, but she was starting to wonder whether the old witch might be right until a third alternative presented itself in the form of the ropes. Swallowing her pride, she drive her arms down into the canvas to pull herself closer. It was at least fifteen agonising seconds of hauling before she could reach out to the rope, Deschain making her pay for every inch until…

“BREAK!” Vale turned to Sydney with one eyebrow raised but didn’t need to do anything else, the veteran releasing the hold after just one last agonising squeeze. “Disappointing,” she tutted, rising to her feet as Isobel tucked her knee in to her chest and rubbed furiously at it. “All that talk about ‘real fights’ and you’re grabbing that rope like a life raft wHHOA!”

Nobody could describe Isobel Lamont as ‘fast’ in wrestling terms, but she did have surprising agility given her size. That in combination with her powers of recovery meant that the Fixer seemingly went from seated to charging headlong in the blink of an eye. It was debatable whether what she did with that momentum was even really a wrestling move, the Texan just wrapping around Sydney’s trim waist and lifting up and backwards in a sort of sprawling double-leg takedown crossed with a spear.

Whatever the technical name for the move (up on the balcony Lenore Lemarchand enjoyed the intellectual debate for some time), it’s result was that the blonde’s bull rush drove both ladies into the nearest corner. Deschain was definitely on the worse end of this deal, her back being crushed into the padded steel. To compensate she thumped several clubbing blows into the Lamont’s vulnerable spine, the Fixer responding by pulling back a little and driving her shoulder into that taut midsection twice in quick succession.

A ‘whoulff’ noise escaped Sydney’s mouth along with much of her air, but Lamont didn’t repeat the tactic, instead exploding upright and leaning in hard on the smaller woman, firing stiff short-arm jabs into ribs, tummy and tits. Deschain responded with her own short strikes, although the cramped space meant that she couldn’t get much of a swing until she aimed squarely at the meat of Lamont’s décolletage.

The uppercut earned herself a tiny bit of space but only for an instant, Lamont surging forwards and mashing her curves into the Mangler’s more modest frame while wrapping up her arms. Sydney was crushed backwards into the corner, denied space to work with the uncomfortable bulk of the fixer pressing into her entire body.

Behind the pair Cassandra cleared her throat. “I don’t want to start counting, but this isn’t an alleyway and I’m not gonna let you mug her in the corner all night. Get her out before I make you.” Isobel gave a slight nod but her eyes never left Sydney’s.

“Gotta admit, even with all the ropes and pins and bullshyt I bet you used to be one hell of a fighter” the Fixer hissed from close range, still pressing herself forward. One big Texan paw reached up, palm thrusting into Deschain’s jaw to keep the pressure on the trapped Mangler. Syd found her voice anyway though, snarking “And you’re Pandora lite with a big mouth. Now back the hell off.”

She reached up to grip tight onto Bel’s wrist, trying to pry those clawing fingers loose of her face. Lamont let this happen for a second, ignoring the impatient noises coming from Vale and waiting for the perfect opportunity. Then just when the veteran had turned her face again Isobel drove her own head forward, THWUNKing into a headbutt which left Deschain wobbly legged and seeing stars.

“That’s the second time y’all said I wasn’t Pandora” Lamont observed, shifting her grip so that her hands clasped behind the brunette’s back. “Well I sure ain’t as dumb as her, and I ain’t ever seen her do this neither.” Even in a slightly woozy state from that headbutt Sydney knew what was coming next, but she couldn’t quite flex her arms in time to stop Bel wrapping her up and lifting out from the corner in a crushing embrace. But what really got the audiences applause was the strength displayed to take a few small hops, jerking the Mangler wildly up and down in the hold.

LIFTING BEARHUG

www.youtube.com/watch?v=PFSBro8JbjI

Spine and ribcage compressed by those frighteningly strong arms, Sydney reared herself back and tried to move her body in time with the vicious jostling. That had no chance of happening; the Fixer’s grip was like steel, but it did allow her to reel back and try to tip the bigger woman off balance. Sure enough Bel leaned forwards, and let out a grunt as one of Syd’s boots managed to THUMP into her shin. And the Woodsboro Mangler was quick to capitalise, bending her neck and driving her head forwards into a headbutt of her own!

The big blonde reeled away from the impact, but earned a few more ‘oooh’s of appreciation from that select crowd by not only staying on her feet but lifting her burden up higher to crush down. Deschain couldn’t help letting out a groan as her spinal column was compressed, but she rocked forwards to deliver a second kick, this one landing painfully into the Texan’s hurt knee, then a corresponding headbutt, and then a third and a fourth until the ‘hug loosened enough to drop her feet back to the floor.

Despite the repeated blows Isobel was still standing and seemed to plan on swarming right back in again until the Woodsboro Mangler formed her hand into a knife-edge and CRACKED it into her overspilling top. The sheer stinging viciousness was enough to stop Lamont in her tracks, glancing down and then back up with murder in her eyes. “Slap my tits one more time and they’ll be the last thing you see tonight grandmARGH!”

A second chop thumped into her breastbone. This time there was no pause from the blonde, who stormed forwards and caught a boot to the gut for her troubles. Deschain ducked in behind that kick and wrapped one leg around Bel’s knee, lifting her the big Texan upwards and then dropping down with her full weight on that tenderised joint.

KNEELING FISHERMAN’S KNEEBREAKER

www.youtube.com/watch?v=qyFOH4FRK1Y

Crunching into the canvas covered plywood, Isobel let out an involuntary groan and straightened up, trying to repeat her fast-rising trick from earlier. Unfortunately Sydney Deschain was not a woman who could be fooled twice, hopping to one side and thumping out a stiff little Soccer Kick which thwapped into the blonde’s battered chest! Enjoying the freedom to work now the younger woman had stopped crowding her, Syd backed off to the ropes and used them to dash forwards into a follow-up kick.

Or at least that was the plan. Isobel’s knee might have been hurting but the rest of her was still furious, and that manifested in a biiiig wound-up Forearm Smash which crunched into Syd’s abs harder than any kick and stopped her dead in her tracks.

Lamont rose in front of the gutshot Marvel like a kraken, hooking between her legs and spinning up and around for a high impact Scoop Powerslam. The veteran’s abused back was rammed into the canvas, Isobel yanking her back up to kneeling, tucking the brunette’s head between her own thighs, and hauling upwards into Powerbomb stall position.

Having already had enough experience of the Woodsboro Mangler’s legs constricting her body, Isobel was keen not to make her head a target. That might’ve been why she only kept her wriggling package up in ‘bomb position for as short a time as possible, driving down as if she was trying to merge Syd’s spine right through the canvas-covered plywood!

A much louder wail escaped the veteran, but the noise from the balcony was appreciative. And it got even more so when Lamont held tight to her grip and braced her legs, that compact but powerful body straining her burden right back up again! This time Bel took a second longer to set herself, rotating towards the nearest corner before driving outwards again. Syd’s back and neck whiplashed into the padded steel courtesy of the Fixer’s signature Buckle Bomb!

Hellacious impact notwithstanding, Sydney received a few whoops of encouragement by staying on her feet and stepping woozily back out of the corner. She looked like she was treading in post holes though, and that verticality was extremely temporary. This was ensured by Bel, spinning through a tight little circle and emerging with one arm outstretched for an absolutely murderous Discus Lariat.

DIVISION BELL AND DISCUS LARIAT

www.youtube.com/watch?v=-9z-5WHXWW0

Sympathetic ‘oooooo’s from the select audience as Deschain was smeared into the canvas. The follow through had been impactful enough to drop Lamont to her knees too, which wasn’t exactly fun for her, but at least it left her close to position for what came next. She scooted around to mount the splattered Mangler, slipping her feet underneath Syd’s arms to pin them to the matt.

“Have y’all ever watched one of Zoe’s matches?” she asked innocently. “Look past all that crap she pulls and you’d see that she’s a damn good wrestler. Almost as good as you were.”

Threat delivered, Bel leaned back and repositioned her legs, now sitting to the side of the downed brunette with her thighs wrapping around Deschain’s shoulders. Sydney clearly knew what was coming, trying to twist her head away and frantically kicking her legs in an attempt to scoot away from a position perilously close to the one she herself had won innumerable fights with. But a big forearm smash stilled the resistance a little, Lamont leaning forwards to lace her hands around the brunette’s cranium and reefing back to introduce the Technical Marvel to her employer’s favourite finisher.

SPOTLIGHT

www.youtube.com/watch?v=4suw4_9cNMo

“Know why Scotty loves this hold so much?” Lamont asked, leaning further back to increase the pressure on Deschain’s weakened neck. “Cos it gives y’all a choice. Quit now, or take a nap in my tits. Your call.”

Cassandra Vale regarded her charges with a single arched eyebrow, the closest she ever came to expressing outright surprise. Not with ‘Bel’s threat, she’d heard that a thousand times in the Hellhole alone. No, it was the Texan’s weapon of choice that put the Merc back on her figurative heels. She looked to Deschain for some sort of acknowledgement, but the brunette’s eyes were locked on the younger woman.


Holding as steady as humanly possible considering the strain in her shoulders and neck, not to mention the looming threat of Lamont’s rack, Sydney told her opponent, “You’re content to stand in the shadow of a woman half your size. Far as I’m concerned, you’re the only quitter in this building.”


‘Bel froze for a heartbeat before a whole cauldron of thunderclouds flooded her eyes. “Thanks old woman.” she said softly. “You just made the decision for me.” Lamont tightened her grip against the back of Deschain’s neck and wrenched forward while simultaneously sitting up to bring her prey that much closer to rack & ruin. The few gathered witnesses murmured in curiosity, then winced in sympathetic anguish when the Technical Marvel pistoned her right knee into the curve of Isobel’s left shoulder once, twice, three times. The Fixer grimaced, adjusted her grip and “ERRRGH!”


Deschain tagged her shoulder again and Lamont shifted away from the blow, allowing the veteran to slip her right arm out of ‘Bel’s restraining gams. Clamping down on her attacker’s face with the same wicked intensity the newcomer had displayed earlier, Sydney forced Lamont’s head back as far as she could, then kicked her legs up and ‘smecked’ ‘em shut around Isobel’s skull! Ankles locked, Deschain bore down hard enough to force ‘Bel down on her back, which in turn allowed the Mangler to wriggle her way out of the Spotlight for good.


Balanced on hip and elbow as she poured a long, vengeful squeeze through the blonde’s noggin, Deschain flattened one hand into a paddle and treated ‘Bel’s tummy to several hard slaps before finishing with a callous raaaaaaaaake of proud blonde jugg. “Your tits don’t scare me, honey.” Syd explained after another dismissive slap to Lamont’s merchandise. “And if that’s all you brought into this gym, Olivia never should’ve given you my OOOFFFRRRRGGGGHHH BYTCH!”


Zoë Scott’s favorite back-up plan slammed a single heavy fist into the brunette’s belly, then grabbed hold of her waistband and yanked up until Deschain was forced to abandon the Headscissors or suffer a wardrobe malfunction of the most unpleasant sort. Scrambling clear to catch a breath and adjust her poor maligned briefs, Syd kept her distance until ‘Bel made it to all fours. That’s when she stormed in, grabbed the Texan by the ears and reeled her into a Standing Headscissors. A smatter of applause from the shadows as Sydney slipped her hands under Lamont’s biceps, then locked them between her shoulders to secure the Double Underhook. Knees already bent deep, Deschain got a little lower and “UUUNNNNNNGGGGHHHH!”


‘Bel straightened up hard and fast, her makeshift Back Body Drop enough to free her from the smaller grappler’s grasp and deposit Syd on the deck with a heavy THWHUMP! Heading to the ropes following the quickest of glances at her flattened adversary, Lamont came back with a full head of steam and put every bit of it behind the vertical leap that ultimately THWHAPPED her down atop Deschain’s chest with a sternum-crushing Splash!


Syd’s legs flew up in the air and she instinctively tried to roll to one side, a task she only accomplished because ‘Bel reared back on her haunches to snatch a handful of hair. “Up, you old bag.” Lamont demanded as she hauled the breathless brunette to verticality. “It’s time you learned to put some respect on my name.” Deschain had no answer but a pained wheeze, so the Texan took hold of her left wrist, stepped back and slung her burden into the ropes. The Marvel returned at top speed, meaning she had nothing prepared when ‘Bel sank down, slipped her hands through the Californian’s legs and popped her up into the overhead lights for a Powerbomb that’d cement Isobel Lamont in Hellhole lore forev-- “HHHHRRRGGGGGHHHHH!”


“Holy shyt.” Vale muttered in the split-second when Sydney snatched ‘Bel’s left wrist and stretched that arm out far enough to cinch her stems around the blonde’s head and shoulder. Caught off balance by the Triangle Choke from deep in left field, Lamont immediately tried to pull away from the hold, which ultimately slowed Deschain’s return to the canvas enough for her to cinch it even tighter once she was stacked on her shoulders. With pins of no importance at the moment, Syd focused on controlling the blonde’s captured wrist and crushing every bit of fight from that rapidly reddening face.


“You want my respect?” Syd growled as she forced ‘Bel’s bicep that much tighter against her own throat. “Don’t demand it. Earn it.”


“What do you say, Lamont?” there was no humor in Vale’s tone when she checked on the damaged Destroyer. “If you can’t go anywhere, tap and I’ll call it. Because she WILL choke you--”


The Fixer grabbed hold of Deschain’s waistband with her free hand, thus prompting the brunette to clamp down on ‘Bel’s left ankle with her free hand. “Not gonna power your way out of this, Tex.” Syd huffed after Lamont’s first lift got her all of an inch off the canvas. “You don’t get out of this until you WHOOAAAANNNNNGGHH!”


Someone hadn’t bothered to tell the Mangler how strong Isobel actually was, though she found out quick when the suffocating powerhouse hauled her all the way to high noon and dropped to her butt to THAWHAM Deschain into the thinly-sheathed plywood with a Sit-Out Powerbomb! The pair of wrestlers damned near exploded away from one another, Syd curling up in a loose ball on one side while ‘Bel stretched out in a glassy-eyed starfish, the blonde sucking wind in great, heaving gasps.


Standing tall among all this wreckage, Cassandra Vale let the ladies have a solid internal ten count before she announced, “All right girls, I’m going to count to ten. And if you’re not on your feet before I’m finished, I’ll put you to sleep myself. ONE… TWO… THREE… FOUR… FIVE… SIX…” Sydney rolled onto her stomach, pushed up and started crawling toward ‘Bel.” “Good, but not good enough.” Vale told her charges. “SEVEN… EIGHT… NI--”


Lamont sat up, wrapped her arms around Deschain’s head and pulled her deep into the furious furnace of her cleavage! “You’re gonna scream yourself hoarse, old woman.” ‘Bel promised as she clambered to boot-leather with Syd slapping and pounding at her curves. “Then I’m going to crush you into oblivion and you’ll start screaming all over again.”


The wails reverberating off her décolletage told Lamont that she was well on her way to this goal, the Texan wanted to make sure the has been’s pupils heard her break too. So rather than finish her then and there, she gave the Front Sleeper a final terrier-like shake, then let loose just long enough to catch a Wristlock. Swinging the greasy-faced brunette around in a wide half circle, Lamont dropped her hips and sent Deschain racing across the squared circle on a sharp diagonal. ‘Bel gave her a whole heartbeat of lead time before giving chase, the Fixer channeling the Shadiest member of the legendary Dennehy clan for the Avalanche Splash she had in NO!


A half tic shy of the corner, Syd grabbed the top rope, hopped onto the bottom rope and launched herself up and straight back, the Marvel executing what would’ve been a perfect Mule Kick if she hadn’t locked her shins around Lamont’s head! ‘Bel reached for her opponent’s knees but it was too late, Syd pulled her knees up and swung down and in to THWHUMP the younger wrestler’s face into the middle buckle!


MARVELOUS CURBSTOMP:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=V1lzaWwAfT8


The makeshift Curbstomp left ‘Bel’s cheek against the rough canvas with both arms draped drunkenly over the second strand. Above her, Deschain was sorely tempted to keep her seat, but she pushed away with a weary groan and broke into a shambling run that took her all the way to the opposite corner. A one-footed hop to the middle rope allowed her to spin around without sacrificing any speed, in fact the Mangler seemed to build momentum as she raced down her own back-trail. ‘Bel never flinched, though that was because she never knew what was headed her way. If she had, she might’ve braced for impact along with everyone else when Sydney hopped up, whipped around and SLAMMED the full weight of her glutes into the back of the blonde’s skull!


Her world reduced to canvas and sworls by the devastating Hip Check, Lamont slopped onto her back, unaware she’d collapsed atop her folded legs even after Deschain seized her wrists and draaaaaaaaaaagged her out to the center of the ring. Muscling the Destroyer to all fours with the last adrenaline she’d feel for quite some time, Syd pulled her into a Headscissors, strapped on the Double Underhook, then let out a shriek worthy of Autumn Sammain as she turned the Fixer ass over teakettle. THWHONK! The veteran dropped to a seat, planting the crown of her foe’s skull with a ring-shivering Deschain Driver. ‘Bel landed on her knees and would’ve stayed there for a good long while if Syd hadn’t used half of the Underhook to turn her onto her back.


DESCHAIN DRIVER:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=zoqK1XUmJOM


“I think you’re out, ‘Bel.” she said after pushing onto her knees. “But in case you’re not…” The Marvel slid forward and settled down, engulfing the newcomer in buttock from nose to chin.


Lamont actually shifted a bit, one heel bracing against the mat in an instinctual effort to dislodge her attacker. Sydney shifted with it, deftly snugging the soles of her boots in against the sides of ‘Bel’s head to keep her looking straight at the ceiling. Then she palmed the Texan’s knees and pushed down, flattening Lamont’s stems against the mat.


“Tap out, Isobel.” she said after swatting away one of the blonde’s scrabbling hands. “Tap or I’ll make sure you know why this old hag’s been humbling juggy bytches since you were in junior high.”


‘Bel groaned, then groaned again when her latest shove earned a wicked hands-free pinch from the mounted brunette. Still, she kept pushing at Deschain’s glutes until Syd grabbed her wrists and yanked her arms backward. A little bit of adjusting and ‘Bel’s biceps were pinned in the vise of her foe’s thighs and calves, Lamont’s arms wriggling in weakened disgust as Sydney added a little grind to the Reverse Face Sit.


“I said give up!” Syd punctuated with a hard slap to the younger woman’s belly. “You want me to go rack? Or maybe I’ll just break your nose?”


She sat down that much harder, Deschain slowly but surely spreading her knees to transfer more and more weight to ‘Bel’s--


“MMMMPPPPHHHHH!” the trapped Texan muttered something against Sydney’s trunks, then rapped her knuckles against the canvas once, twice, three times.


Syd pushed up just enough to let the other woman breathe. “You done?”


The Fixer sucked in a breath, let it out slow. “I don’t tap unless I mean it.” she rasped. “You won, now get off me.”


Deschain immediately spun to one knee, then took Cassandra’s hand when the blonde extended it. Rising to polite applause from the audience, Sydney exchanged a word with Cass before walking over to the edge of the ring to accept a towel and bottle of water from Kent Allard, who’d seemingly materialized from nowhere the instant Lamont voiced her surrender. He was joined a moment thereafter by Lenore Lemarchand and once Syd was done with her water she had the same question for both. “What do you think of the new girl?”


“Took you into deep water, boss.” the archivist said without hesitation. “Been a while since someone managed to do that their first night here.”


“The association with Scott is a bit troublesome.” the Raven added. “That chick’s nothing but a TMZ Exposé waiting to happen. Lamont though, she’s got skills. They could use some polish, no doubt. But the raw material’s all there.”


The Mangler nodded. “Willing to go on record?”


“Of course. But it might not be required, your raw material seems to be on the move…”


Following Lenore’s pointing finger, Sydney turned and found that her opponent wasn’t where she expected. In fact Lamont had ignored the offer of libations from Vale and instead rolled hastily out under the ropes. That damaged knee was causing an awkward stagger in her gait ,and she was wiping at her face with one hand, but she’d still backed off fast, enough to get within reach of the door while maintaining her sight of everyone else in the large room. “Where’re you going Bel?” Deschain called.


The blonde came to a halt and a scowl clouded her face. “You won, lady. So I guess I don’t get into your club. We both said some hasty words too. Don't plan on hanging around if y’all are fixing to beat any more outta me.”


“I already got everything I wanted from you when you tapped that mat.” Isobel’s frown deepened, but there was a smile on the Mangler’s face and some conciliation in her voice. “I said I’d show you how things are done around here. The question is, now that you know, are you interested in sticking around?”


A long pause, the Fixer visibly processing the implication and weighing up her options. Then her expression became a little more rueful and she took a few cautious steps back towards the ring. “Can’t say I much enjoyed cryin’ uncle with an old lady’s ass in my face… but if I walked away I’m not sure how I could stop it from happening again.”


Sydney held up a finger and took a quick survey of their audience. “Cassandra and Veronica, would you be willing to offer Ms. Lamont some thoughts once she’s cleaned up? You as well, Lenore?” Three near simultaneous nods, just as Deschain had hoped. With that settled, she returned her attention to Isobel and said, “There’s a visitor’s bathroom down at the far end, Kent can show you the way. Cass, ‘Ronnie, Lenore, please take a few minutes to compare notes while ‘Bel and I get cleaned up.”


Lamont cocked her head on one side. “So now y’all are gonna give me the verdict.”


“Something like that. Any particular drink you favor after a match?”


A snort of appreciative laughter from the blonde, although her recent exertions turned it into more of a cough. “If I’m waiting on judgement from you ladies then I’ll take anything as long as it comes out of a longneck bottle.”


“That’s easily arranged.” Syd noted. “Kent, would you show ‘Bel to the visitor’s showers?”


“Right this way Ms. Lamont.”


Isobel nodded, took a few steps, then stopped and turned to the veteran. “Whatever decision y’all come to, I appreciate the chance to test myself in a ring. Thank you.” She didn’t wait for an answer. Those would come soon enough and at the moment all she really wanted was a hot shower.


********

When Isobel Lamont returned to the main room some forty-five minutes later, Sydney was leaned against the apron alongside Treymane, Lemarchand, Vale and Lily Burlingame. The Texan had pegged this group as more of the wine and spirits crowd but to her surprise there was a battered cooler from which each had procured a beer (or four, in Cassandra’s case). Nudging the cooler with one foot as she saw ‘Bel approach, Deschain said “Help yourself” Lamont did just that, grabbing the first thing within reach and popping the top with the Church Key she kept with all her actual keys.


Interested (and admittedly nervous) as she was to hear from the mass of talent, ‘Bel polished off half the bottle before she sighed and asked, “Does it always feel this festive after some girl gets her ass beat in this place?”


“Who got their ass beat, Daisy?” Veronica asked with a faint smile. “What I saw this evening was a war of attrition, pure and simple.”


‘Bel rolled her eyes, but clinked Treymane’s bottle regardless. “No need to tiptoe around it, I got dropped on my head and took a ride under Syd’s ass to--”


“Raise your hand if Syd’s ever, no, wait.” Lemarchand interrupted herself. “Raise your hand if Sydney HASN’T smothered you out at one point or another.”


Sydney looked vaguely embarrassed when the only hand that came up belonged to Lily. “I just never made her mad enough, I guess.” Burlingame said with a very soft snicker.


“You’re going to get your ass kicked up between your shoulders in here.” Lenore explained. “All of us did. All of us still do. But the reason we keep coming back for more is because everything we endure here makes us harder to beat out there.”


The Raven might’ve gone on if Sydney hadn’t said, “That’s as good as segue as any. ‘Ronnie, would you do us the honor of going first?”


The former FAWN World Champion finished her beer and set it down on the floor. Once she’d opened another she focused on ‘Bel. “You throw strong hands and a stronger Lariat. You’re also very effective at swarming your opponent, which will pay dividends more often than not. But straight brawling will only get you so far, especially on a roster where women like Autumn Sammain or Astrid White can slip a knock out blow through your swarm and end a match just like that. If you decide to stay I’d be happy to help you work on adding some knee strikes and kicks to your repertoire. And did I mention you have a great Lariat? Because you have a great Lariat.”


‘Bel murmured thanks, looked to Sydney, who in turn looked to Lenore. “I can’t believe you had the guts to come in here and put Sydney in what was effectively her own finisher. Maybe it didn’t turn out like you wanted, but that level of fearlessness is admirable. Your technique in applying was also quite strong. I don’t think anyone will argue with me when I say the ground game is never going to be the biggest weapon in your arsenal, but broadening it to include a few chokes and neck cranks could make it even more difficult for your opponents to twist loose once you’ve secured the Front Sleeper. I’ve already got a few in mind that should help in that regard.”


Cassandra was the next in line, but she only pointed to Lily, who looked like she was deciding whether to say anything at all.


“Penny for your thoughts, Lil’?” Deschain asked.


Burlingame tapped a jittery beat on her bottle, then set it on the apron as if she was worried she might drop it. “This is really more something Susan would notice, but putting a little extra swagger in your step couldn’t hurt. You have, as Sue would say, a body that wins fights at the podium. We all saw you make a point to dip a little deeper the first time you came through the ropes and if what you wore today is your normal ring attire, the crowd will be calling for the Front Sleeper anyway. If that’s how you prefer to finish girls off you might as well make sure they know what’s going to happen when you get hold of ‘em.”


‘Bel frowned. “I’m not much for playin’ to a crowd.”


“I think you’re better at it than you realize.” Vale mused. “Lily does have a point though. That rack of yours could give Pandora second thoughts, no reason not to make sure your opponent feels a little jugg weight during the match.”


“Any other thoughts, Cass?” Deschain prodded.


“Don’t get greedy with those Avalanche Splashes.” Vale added without hesitation. “I get it, it’s the end of the match, Deschain’s stubborn as f*ck and you just want to close her out, but if you follow too close it’s gonna cost you dear eventually.”


“Can’t be any more dear than today. “’Bel grumbled.”


“Trust me, getting ground out here is nothing to getting ground out in the middle of the FAWN arena or even some high school gym in the middle of nowhere.” Veronica warned. “It’s the sort of thing that’ll eat at you until you’re able to avenge it and sometimes even that’s not enough.”


Lamont finished her beer, opened another. “Point taken.” She took a sip, then turned to Syd. “What about you? Any sage advice?”


“Nothing these ladies haven’t already pointed out.” the Mangler replied. “Though I will say this. Big as you are, as strong as you are, you’ve put yourself behind a bit of an eight ball because in the eyes of the casual fan, you’re only Zoë Scott’s muscle.”


“I’m not--”


Syd held up her hand, cutting the blonde off. “I didn’t say it’s true, or that I even believe it, I’m telling you it’s a perception that a lot of fans will have. So if you want to disabuse them of that notion you’re going to have to make the most of every single minute you’re in the ring. Working a tag match? Land the heaviest shots you can. Make sure everyone knows Scotty’s just there for clean up when you’re done. Land a singles match? Remind the whole audience why a billionaire brat like Zoë Scott is willing to part with good money for your services.”


Isobel thought it over. “I can do that. I’ll need a place to train proper, though. Most of my gym time now is devoted to helping improve Scotty’s game, not my own.”


“I believe the Hellhole can be made available to you.” Syd said after a short silence. “On one condition you noted earlier. Zoë doesn’t know about this. She may be an excellent wrestler, but her attitude is toxic and I don’t need that sort of hassle in my own backyard. Are we in agreement?”


Isobel extended her bottle and ‘tinked’ the neck against Syd’s. “We are.”


Excellent.” Syd set down her bottle, produced a phone from her hip pocket and checked the time. “Everyone finish their drinks, then meet out front in ten minutes. Kent’s arranged for dinner at the Chef’s Table. That means you too ‘Bel.”


Lamont finished the bottle in one long pull and set it back in the ice. “Yes ma’am.”