HELL IN THE CELL DRAKE ISHIKAWA VS JOHN MITCHEL

"RrrrAAAGGHHH!" Drake would quickly cock back and swing dead at John's jaw with all of his might in one last punch. He was determined to show his competition just how strong he was. He had a lot of respect for John, and even more now as they stood there beating the hell out of each other. He just hoped his swing was enough.

For a moment, it appeared that John had absorbed the impact, even though it had sent his face reeling to the side…but only for a moment, as John slowly collapsed backwards, heading towards the mat on his back with his eyes shut. The ten count would begin as he hit the ground. 1…2…3…Johnâ€s eyes began to open, though his head was still swimming…4…5…John had finally regained some lucidity and was getting up…6…before seven, John managed to get to his feet, the ref stopping the ten count.

"Good I didn't want you to just give up..." He would charge at his opponent with his shoulder attempting to ram and push John into a turnbuckle. If he succeeded he would grab him and follow up with a suplex.

“Wouldnâ€t dream of it..” He tensed up, seeing Drakeâ€s charge, he braced for it, and at the last second would make an attempt to wheal around Drake and, with both hands, seize Drake by whatever he could, shirt, body, w/e, and shove him forward, with the intention of crashing Drake into the steel walls of the cell.

Drake would have his face smashed into the cage by the impact of having his Charge countered. He got too worked up and didn't think out his moves. He was begging to feel fatigued as well from all the abuse both of them have taken. He took a moment leaning up against the cage to recover himself and think out what to do next. This match was giving him everything he wanted.

John was feeling equally satisfied with his opponent, loving the challenge cracking this guy represented. As Drakeâ€s already bloodied face crashed into the ring, John would attempt to catch Drake as he was dazed and get in under his reaction time. Approaching him swiftly heâ€d aim another punch towards Drakeâ€s face, which would have the side effect of, if connected, also smashing the back of Drakeâ€s head into the cold, hard steel.

Drake let himself sink to the floor just missing the punch leading it into the cage. He would try to push his body and rise up slamming his skull into the man's stomach. If he succeeded he would grab him into a bear hug and slam him repeatedly into the steel cage attempting to throw head butts against any resistance.

“Raaaarh!” Heâ€d shout out as his fist connected full force with the cage wall, blood now dripping from his inflamed knuckles. He certainly had no chance to react or counter as Drakeâ€s skull smashed his stomach, in rapid secession followed by a bear hug. “Grrrr….” Heâ€d groan, even growl a bit, as he strained himself trying to escape, but his verbal protestations would be cut off by rapid head butts to his head, leaving his forehead sliced open and his head rolling a bit, dazed and confused as the bear hug sapped his strength…though not knocking him out JUST yet

"Take this!!!" Drake would finish up using all of his strength into a huge suplex trying to smash his opponents skull into the mat. Succeeding or not Drake would be laying on his back exhausted trying to catch his breath as the ref started counting.

“…shit!” Was all he could mutter as he was flipped over, head coming CRASHING down to the mat. He had no view of his opponent, or view of ANYTHING as he was completely out cold, in a heap, bleeding on the floor. The ref would begin counting, both of them, as they were both on their backs…1…2…3 John remained motionless, unable to react…4…5…6…7…Johnâ€s eyes would slowly roll open, underneath the bleeding eyebrow on one and balck eye on the other, to see his opponent also on the ground…heâ€d do his best to get up, but was still out of it…8…9…Johnâ€s collapsed back, not even getting his head a few centimeters off the ground out of dizziness…10!

He cursed under his breath, looking to see if his opponent had made it up