Ben presents SFA Fight Night!
Who: Devildriver and Stigmata, with a cameo by Ben Where: The underground SFA Arena When: Wednesday night
Devildriver had the song 'Gone Away' stuck in her head for some reason. She couldn't pinpoint it. Didn't matter, though. Her fists were wrapped already, her steeltoes were tied tight. The crowd was howling for blood. She couldn't hear the announcer doing the announcing thing, but the crowd. She could hear that. Ben would probably call a fight to the death sometime soon. The demons wanted it, and they paid for it all. Apparently to make the right kind of money, you sometimes had to make a sacrifice.
The bells started ringing. Hells Bells, by ACDC. That was Devildriver's theme song, and her signal to go out there. In pace to the music, she started walking. At least she could hear the music over the crowd, even if it was just barely. She climbed into the ring - she wasn't someone who liked to showboat around - and faced the opposite corner, to wait for her opponent.
As she waited, a plodding bassline kicked in, as the opening strains of Tool's "Sober" marked the arrival of the current number-one contender to the SFA Championship, the man known only as Stigmata. As he practically slithered down the aisle... he truthfully looked more creepy than dangerous. He appeared to be a thin wisp of a man, with sunken cheeks, sad eyes, and shot, spikey hair. His clothing was slightly dirty, and looked to be just a little too big for him. To him, the crowd didn't even exist... his eyes, from the moment he walked out, were focused only on the young girl awaiting him in the ring. As he climbed into the ring, he held his hand up slowly, an eerie grin creeping onto his face as two long, boney claws slid out of his wrist: one from the front, near the forearm, and one from the underside. He stood there... waiting for the bell to ring.
"I," she said to Stigmata, who was her opponent for the night, "am going to kill Ben if I survive this." It was a quiet ackowledgement of her practically non-existant skills in comparison to his. "Just so you're aware." There was a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. But she was calm. Insanely, weirdly, strangely calm. Survive first, panic later.
"Of course you'll survive...." He said in a voice that would almost sound friendly if it wasn't so damned creepy. "I'm not being paid to kill anyone tonight." He seemed completely at ease here, as if he was born to fight.
"Fine. If I'm not paralyzed from the neck down or in a permanent coma. I was told I'm something called a Slayer. Better name than Devildriver; should've known before." She started easing into a start position while the announcer guy started whipping the crowd into a bloodlust frenzy - more so than before.
Stigmata took a step back, smiling again. So THAT was why the girl had such strength and agility... he'd wondered what her deal was. He quickly went through his mental notes on what he knew about Slayers and grumbled... no real weaknesses... you just had to injure them enough that they lost the fight before they could heal.
As soon as the bell wrung, quicker than a blink, Devildriver went under the ropes of the ring, grabbing a low stool from down on the floor, and an empty glass bottle that had once held who the hell knew what in it. She wasn't going to face Stigmata without something, goddammit. She wasn't going to just stand there and let him kill her. And she seriously doubted some silly rule about not being paid would really stop him.
The thin fighter came at her as the bell rang, his body moving with such fluidity that at times he almost appeared to have no bones in his body. He struck out with a sweeping kick, trying to knock her from her feet.And Devildriver promptly broke the bottle across his face.
It hurt, don't ever think otherwise... yet he just grinned at her, and kept moving, a small sliver of glass still stuck in his forehead. "mmmm. Good shot, my little one..." As he spoke to her, he quickly shot a fist toward her, spiking those twin claws directly through her right forearm.
Devildriver tore her arm away from the claws - kind of a mistake, because she knew that had torn a vein. One of those important ones. Blood started running down her arm. But she was used to that, now, unfortunately and she swallowed down the pain and planted a kick to his chest to drive him away from her.
The kick hurt like a motherfucker, and he actually yelped there... but then he smiled darkly, seeing the wound. Slayer or not... if he could keep up the abuse for a few minutes, keep her body from healing the wound at all... he'd win easily by sheer way of her losing too much blood. He raised a claw to his lips, licking her blood from it.
"Dude. Refreshments after, not right now." Devildriver admonished him lightly, and then she did something she hadn't done before - usually she was actually a pretty hesitant fighter - fighting back but not really initating. But right now? She actually took a flying leap at him, going after his face with the broken bottle in one hand, and trying to keep the claws away with the stool in her other hand. The crowd practically started screaming.
Stigmata was definitely caught off-guard. He'd studied the girl, and while a good fighter, usually once injured, she became hesitant, almost distracted. But this time... it was like she snapped. He began using all his strength to attempt to stop her from reaching him with the glass. He finally flipped her over, reaching around to place his forearm over her throat in a form of chokehold, as he tried to level his other arm at her face so that he could claw her.
Devildriver let go of the stool and gripped the front of his shirt instead - and she didn't push him away. She actually yanked him down for a hard, slightly gory kiss thanks to the blood he'd licked earlier. She really hoped that'd distract him for just long enough for her to put her knee to his crotch. That way she'd get the advantage again.
Well, it did that. He'd expected her to hit him. Flip him. Maybe even try to stab him. But kiss him? Never. He briefly stared at her, wondering what the hell she was tryign to do.
And she stabbed him in the gut with the broken bottle. Distraction for the win, bitches.
As the crowd exploded into shocked cheers, Stigmata fell to the ground in a bloody heap, and the referee jumped in to stop the fight. As the thin man started healing himself, Ivy had her hand raised, as the new number one contender.
"...yay..." Oh yeah. She was still bleeding. She could feel it running down her arm, and she collapsed onto her knees.
From above them, a suit-clad Benjamin Bale looked down, giving Ivy a slow, appreciative clapping of his hands, giving her an impressed smirk.
And Ivy promptly fell on her face, into a small puddle of her own blood. However, if she'd been concious, she would've given him the finger and-slash-or started hunting him down like the dog he was.
Ben smirked, shaking his head as the medics came to treat Ivy, and take her to the back. She was going to make him a lot of money... he could just feel it.