Rekka Aizawa and Bashira Matsumoto vs. Halloween Sonohara - It's Terror Time Again

Halloween would give Rekka credit, the girl was stubborn.

Irritating, stupid, smelly, nasty, with dumb hair and outfit that screamed ‘Trying Too Hard’ like it had a damn loudspeaker, but stubborn.

She’d seen plenty of guys and gals put in this move, and most of the time, if the ropes weren’t within immediate grabbing distance, they just gave up, cold turkey. Not her, not Rekka. The little punkette that could just kept on keeping on, defiant till the end. For a second, Halloween thought she might give up, saw that hand rising, looking ready to surrender...but nope. She just balled it into a fist and continued with her crawl, heading towards the ropes at snail pace. It might’ve been inspiring, if this wasn’t the same bitch who’d fishhooked her nose a few minutes ago.

But she was getting there. Closer. Closer. Almost there…

...and then Halloween stood up with Rekka’s leg still trapped in her armpits, dragged her back to the center of the ring, and dropped down again to relock the hold, erasing all of her progress. Mean? Yeah. She was in that kind of mood.

Being subjected to all manners of submissions ended up having some unintended perks, as it turns out. Rekka's gift for gab and penchant for being a shit-talking braggadocio within the confines of a wrestling locker-room meant being perpetually demanded to back up her blustering words in the ring. A proposal Rekka always eagerly accepted, but scarcely if ever ended in her favor. But at the very least, it did magic in fortifying Rekka's endurance level to the most excruciating and joint locking of submissions, with Rekka garnering a practical encyclopedic knowledge of them from having been subjected to so many. This one being the infamous Tequila Sunrise, originating in Southern Mexico in the late seventies and which Rekka seemed to be on the cusp of breaking up-

"AWWGODFUCKINDAMMIT!!!"

-before having the proverbial rug pulled out from under her by being literally pulled back from whence she came. Clawed hands scratching against the canvas from the callous and heart breaking denial of sweet freedom before having the leg cranking submission reapplied right in the middle of the ring. Rekka once again wailing out in agony from beneath Halloween's bare back settled down atop her head, her torqued back leg lit aflame in muscled tensed anguish. The same hand from before being raised upward with her hand flat as if it was on the cusp of playing patty-cake with the ring canvas...except instead, it would shoot backward and apply a fearsome clawhold on Halloween's face for a scathing, but most importantly blinding, eye rake.

”Will! You! Just! Give! Up!”

In a small way, Halloween had to applaud Rekka’s tenacity. She could kind of relate, really. She’d been in similar straits before, being bent in half by some chick - and on the rare occasion, dude - who was damn near twice her size, ragdolling her about the ring, trying to get a submission out of a tiny upstart. She knew what it was like to be on the receiving end, fighting the desire to give in, even when you knew it was hopeless.

That modicum of respect was overshadowd by the sheer annoyance she was feeling, however. She wrenched the hold, fought for it, but her foe just kept on keeping on. Making her waste more time and, most importantly, energy - energy that would be better spent on the She-Mountain she had to face next. ”Stop squirming and just-”

Her protests were ignored and met with defiance once more, this time physical, as those same mitts crossed her face and gave them a hard raking. Halloween shrieked with a mixture of rage, pain, and sheer irritation, as she reacted in the predictable way - breaking the hold and flopped to the side. She wanted to give Rekka a parting gift for their time together, though, and shot her leg out to the side, trying to give her opponent a swift boot in her side.

Alright Rekka was ready to submit now. Every back-creaking and leg-straining second in this excruciating maneuver had made tapping the ring canvas just the most tantalizing of propositions. Like a veritable oasis of crystal clear waters and tropical cocktails with a little umbrella in it amongst a scalding hot desert of agonizing torture. Except what kept Rekka from slapping her gloved hand against the floor and indulging in that fabricated fantasy was knowing how much that twin-tailed Halloweenie wanted the satisfaction in bringing Rekka to heel...well, fuck that. Fuck her. Fuck her stupid submission. And fuck!!!-*ohwaitIcanreachherfacecan'tI?*

Rekka capitalizing on that news flash by raking the shit out of the fan favorite's eyes, granting her that oasis of freedom but not without a clobbering punt to her ribcage that made her roll over a couple of rotations. She huddled over on her knees while hugging her midsection, panting deeply while tapping the tips of her flame-decorated boots into the canvas but eventually attempting to soldier up to her feet. Jelly for leg muscles as she quivered and staggered around until she'd accidentally crossed one foot over the other and took a bad plummet...a shame for Halloween that would be brutally crammed into that sweet spot between her legs for a headbutt where everyone dreads to receive one.

Well, the kick landed, that was nice. Hitting Rekka with that parting blow was a small bit of satisfaction. Not much to chew on, but with the crap going on with her face at the moment? She’d take it.

It was more frustrating than anything, knowing she had the goods to take down this little punkette but being unable to seal the deal. It hard to tell if she was resilient or if she was just too dumb to know when to go down, but either way, it was starting to became a true nuisance. If submitting her wouldn’t work, she’d just have to fall back on the traditional way to win a match: Sheer blunt force trauma until your opponent can’t get up for three straight seconds.

Halloween started to sit up, expecting to put that plan into motion, when she opened her bleary eyes and realized exactly where Rekka was at the moment. She looked up in time to see the woman collapsing like a felled tree, in time to anticipate exactly where she was going to land...but not soon enough to do a damn thing about it. Down she went, bringing her big, red, stupid head between her legs.

”Fuck!”

Yeah, that one word summed up her feelings on the matter. Halloween squawked and rolled over to her chest after the impact, kicking her feet about while she reached between her legs and caressed the aching area. Just when she thought Rekka couldn’t be anymore of a pain in the ass…

Well of course Rekka intentionally planned to do that. Right from the very beginning of the match even. Whenever she'd find herself on the ropes, why she'd pretend to stumble around like a drunk on St. Patrick's Day and mistakenly perpetrate an illegal maneuver right in front of the referee. Who'd predictability refrain from disqualifying the spiteful imp do to it seemingly having been perpetrated by uncoordinated accident. That's just the type of malevolent mastermind Halloweenie was dealing with. The same one who was just now beginning to straighten herself back to her feet thanks to climbing the adjacent ropes.

Rekka's posture now significantly more sustained after having some time to recoup from nagging backaches as she stiffened her back from a 90-year old geriatric to an upright and ticked off brawler. The little imp menacingly marching back towards Halloween, reaching down to clutch onto those obnoxiously fluffy pigtails to bring them face to seething face. "...Yer pathetic...Jus an overhyped lil' mascot made to sell shitty T-shirts..." Each spiteful barb accompanied with a quick slap to the face, the audience booing throughout until Rekka tried to conclude her tirade by shoving H.W's head between her thighs. Afterward wrapping her arms around her foe's waist for a hauled lift and abrupt sit for an attempted sit-out piledriver.

So, the next few seconds of Halloween’s life kind of sucked.

It was bad enough that she’d have a coconut rammed into her crotch. That was painful by itself, this agonizing ache that was spreading throughout her loins. As much as it hurt, it brought with it some embarrassment, too, for all the obvious reasons. Not exactly the way Halloween wanted to go in her efforts to be taken as a serious competitor.

But then Rekka had to be, well, Rekka, and started piling on the insults. People had been yanking on Halloween’s ponytails since the third grade, it always ticked her off something fierce, and nothing had changed now that she was an adult. Add in all the slaps and the insults to her face, and she was a seething, heated mess by the time Rekka hauled her up.

But the good thing about all that? It made her mad. With anger came clarity. With clarity came an idea.

When Rekka lifted her, Halloween jumped along with the lift, giving it a bit more power than her opponent was expecting. Enough for her to swing over her shoulder and come over behind her, using her small size to an advantage. She wrapped her arm around the neck as she passed, opened her legs to capture the waist, and tried to put Rekka into a rear-naked choke from behind - her finisher, Lights Out.

Rekka said what she meant and meant what she said. And she certainly said a mean mouthful. As a matter of fact practically everything about the Halloween-themed fan favorite grinded her proverbial gears. From how much adulation the audience showered upon her, to that smug sense of superiority, to these stupid little frilly ponytails that the brawler kept feeling the incessant compulsion to yank whenever given the opportunity!!! Rekka made Halloween acutely aware of her spiteful pettiness with every scornful word and each swat across the mouth before attempting to pile-drive one of the few opponents within this league that she'd probably ever be capable of effortlessly performing this maneuver on.

"Halloween's over...And you're about to be tooo-whoaheywhathe!!!!" Rekka barked out when the nimble spanish fly ended up vaulting herself up and over the brawler when hauling her up for the pile-driver. Not knowing what was going on until she'd already been ensnared and started hacking up coughed breathes before face planting right onto the canvas. Frantically flailing and kicking her legs around from what felt like a noose tightened around her neck, slight drool trailing out the corner of her mouth as her breathing slowing down along with her movements until she was in an inert and sweaty slump. That is until the one hand she had extended started tapping frantically on Halloween's bicep, having the ref signal for the bell!!!

Being small had a lot of disadvantages - not being able to get stuff on high shelves, not being able to ride certain roller coasters, constantly having to show ID when she wanted to buy alcohol or watch an R-rated movie - but it had some advantages that people didn’t often consider. Halloween didn’t hit her head on things all that much. She could fit into tiny spaces easier. She could get away with paying children prices for tickets most of the time.

Oh, and her limbs were small enough to easily squeeze a person’s neck. A fact that Rekka was learning at the moment.

”Nap time, chica.” She clamped down tight on the redhead’s throat, forming a noose with her arms. She wasn’t all that strong, but it really didn’t take much pressure to do the deed with a properly applied rear-naked choke, and hers was on point. The punkette put up a fight, but in the end…

Yup. Out like a light.

Halloween leaped up and pumped her fist in the air as the crowd cheered and the bell rang, feeling the exhilaration of a win course through her system, basking in the glory...only for it to be shortlived. Why was the referee still up like there was a match going? Why wasn’t her music playing?

...crap. Bashira. Almost forgot that she still had a 300-something pound problem to deal with. So, at this point, Halloween had one of two options: She could either wait for this gorilla of a woman to get into the ring and start the second round proper, or she could bring the fight to her and take the initiative.

Fortune favors the bold, right?

She took a couple of quick breaths to psyche herself up, then went into a hard run towards the corner and scaled up the turnbuckle in two leaps, effortlessly making her way up the pads. With no fear, she took aimed and leaped off the turnbuckle towards the outside of the ring, armed cocked back, flying towards her with an aerial elbow strike, hoping to catch her off guard before she even knew what was going on.

"MWAHAHAHA!!! Yeah that's right!!!! All you punk-ass scrubs had best start learnin how to grovel for forgiveness, unless you wanna get bitch smacked all over again!!!" Rekka bellowed in the middle of the ring to cacophonous jubilation from her legions of fans, confetti falling from the rafters as she once again defended all ten of her glittering title belts in one night. Diamonds sparkling off of each strap draped over her arms as she once again headlined Avalanche for the third time in a row and etched her name in the annals of wrestling history forever. Acclaimed adversaries littered the ring and outside as well in mired and abject defeat. From Death Bunny piledriven into unconscious, to Valley Doll subdued to her own submission, to Alaina powerbombed into oblivion, to Haley "Silver Ace" Cote sensually overwhelmed in the corner. Although the competitor she reveled in defeating the most was still at her feet, Halloween gawking up at her in terror after having been thrashed by the Little Hellion. Rekka spying her down there with a malicious grin before going to one knee and cupping HW's chin, whispering "Although I think I'll teach you how to grovel myself..." and planting a commanding smooch on her lips...


"...mmm...noW eRecT a StatuE in My honoR..." Rekka blissfully muttered with a crimson hue in smiling contentment well after having been lulled to sleep by Halloween's finisher, the confused referee nudging her to wake up but getting nowhere as not even the ringing of the bell would awake the brawler her dream state.


"...*snort*...Hm?" Bashira, however, was acutely aware of the bell's clanging chimes as she parted herself from the buffet of candied treats to witness what she predicted would happen all along. The Bear Brawler remained relatively non-plussed and unbothered by her partner's defeat, and was actually quite grateful that Rekka put up such a competitive outing since it allowed her to partake of all the scrumptious delectables for that much more time. The primary reason she'd even agreed to form this odd couple of a tag-team is that Rekka could do all of the jaw-jacking for her and just leave Bash to do the, well...bashing. Less work on her part, she figured. People underestimated the little shrimp puff in the ring though, and she was as scrappy a fighter as anyone else she'd seen around here. Bashira gave Rekka about...oh, a 35% chance of not embarrassing herself tonight, so no expectations were dashed. Except even by now she'd begin to amass her fill of Halloween sweets, and was keen on seeing some action herself. Her perusing eyes scanning the ring until finding the twin-tailed high-flyer on the top turnbuckle just than taking to the sky...to which Bashira blankly stared with a half-lidded lack of enthusiasm before taking another bite out of her Snickers bar. Bash's deft counter being one for the ages!!!...as she just kinda started walking off to the side.