Liberty/Abattoir II - Hell On Earth

There was absolutely zero delay. Liberty was a big girl as it was, the move relied largely on momentum, and Abattoir simply didn't have the strength left to hold the pose. This did not in any way diminish the actual impact when it happened.

Abattoir shoved her opponent's head down and dropped to the mat, completing the Red Oath with such force that not only did the ring shake, but part of a cell wall (which was already under considerable stress from the constant contact with the flames) snapped off and collapsed inwards against a cornerpost. The ref yelped in terror and dove closer to the two girls; in fact, it seemed like she was ready to count well before Abattoir absently hooked a leg.

"One!"

It was convenient because the nak muay couldn't do much else, truthfully. Even the effort of actually rolling over and covering Liberty was more than she could exert at the moment. She was completely spent, and frankly, being able to stay seated and grab Liberty's leg was about as much energy as she could exert - which was to say, basically none. Even her eyes were sort of vacant, as if wandering in and out of consciousness. Who knew what she was seeing through those eyes?

"Two!"

Abattoir held on, shuddering momentarily. The pain had gradually become a sort of out-of-body numbness, a chill that bit at her spine despite the inferno raging around them.

It would've been totally reasonable for Abattoir to just flop back the second the referee counted three, but she didn't even have enough left in the tank to do that. Instead, she stayed in place, doubled over and leaning on one knee, and finally let herself relax.

She could hear a bunch of stagehands all around them, frantically blasting the cage with fire extinguishers and smothering the inferno around them in carbon dioxide. The EMTs were probably going to be close behind; she was on pretty familiar terms with them at this point due to her blatant disregard for her own safety, and they knew enough to be ready any time she had a match lined up on the card.

Despite everything that'd happened, Abattoir found, as she slumped in place and waited for the medical team to arrive, that she couldn't find it in herself to truly hate Liberty after what they'd been through. Her adversary had taken her right up to the edge, to the absolute limit. It was the purest form of interaction she could conceive of.

The nak muay's whisper was weak, and characteristically hoarse, but she managed it.

"Worthy."

Ah, there they were. The medics were lifting her up now, helping her out of the ring and onto a gurney. Abattoir relaxed, content in the knowledge that things had gone well, and also that AFW management was probably never going to take a hands-off approach to a building she was in ever again. The spreading, ethereal numbness from all the constant pain had dulled into sort of a welcoming warmth. Like settling down into a hot bathtub. It was a lovely sensation, and it left her eyelids heavy and her mind drifting.

She closed her eyes, and dreamed of the world burning until there was nothing left but flecks of cinder sparkling in the void, and for a time, Abattoir knew peace.