This is a match that took place a few years ago between myself and Jenny Dare. I referenced it in a recent FTW post (see the link in my sig!) and after a few requests, I'm posting it here with Jenny's permission. Enjoy!
rowanchance
The auditorium lights turn out and a red smoke pours out from the entrance. Japanese drums roar over the speakers. I step out of the smoke, full red kimono and kabuki mask on. My hands are taped with black tape. I raise my arms above my head and look out at the audience from behind my mask. I know what they expect from me tonight. They expect me to go down like I have before. Not tonight. Tonight, I'm making Dare beg me to stop. The belt is the belt, and I want it, but making her submit might even eclipse my desire for the big gold strap.
I step down the aisle, fans booing me as I go. I ignore them. The drums beat louder and I reach the edge of the ring. I look up at the ring, then look back at them. They can't see my eyes through the mask, but if they could, they'd see nothing but a cold, empty stare. I couldn't care less about them. They mean nothing to me. All I want is to take that belt from Dare. Make her beg me to take it.
I slide up to the apron and slide under the bottom rope. I make my way to my corner and I wait there. Waiting for the champion.
jennydare
As soon as the red smoke dissipates, my music fills the room. Red, white and blue lights flash everywhere. The crowd turns from boos to wild cheers. The music changes from Japanese drums to American guitars: Tia Carrere's cover of "Ballroom Blitz." I give it a moment, then I jump on stage.
I'm wearing my Evel Knievel jump suit and cape, the belt around my waist. The belt with my name carved into the plate. The one that says, "Champion" on it. The one you've tried to take from me twice and came up short.
I walk down the aisle, hitting every hand on my way. My blonde hair falls out behind me and over my shoulders. When I get to the apron, I stop and look up at you. I see you looking down at me. I walk to the corner, climb the stairs and pause on the other side of the ring post. Then, I take off the belt and hold it up above my head.
My belt.
I climb between the ropes and the ref holds out his hands. I let him take my belt to the man who will hold it until the match is finished. Then, I grab the jump suit and pull it away, tearing the velcro that holds it together. Under the jump suit are my tall, silver boots, fishnet stockings, red white and blue shorts and sports top. I've got an elbow pad on my right arm but that's going to come off before the night is over. Just a moment before I slam you with the Go Home Driver and knock you into next week.
rowanchance
I peel off the kimono. Under it is my skin tight black body suit. I'm covered from head to toe. Then, very carefully, I take off the mask. Under it, my face is painted pure white. My lips blood red. My eyes black as night. I shake my head and let my hair fall over my face.
The look in my eyes is plain. "You aren't walking out of here. And I am. With that belt."
jennydare
The ref calls us to the center of the ring. I look down at you. He's talking, but I'm not listening. I know the rules. The only way to win this is one of us quits or can't respond to the ref. Other than that, anything goes.
This is your kind of match, Chance. You can't break any rules because there are no rules. And it keeps going until one of us quits. Nobody's ever made you quit. Nobody's ever made me quit. In a little while, one of those records is going to be broken.
rowanchance
I look up at you, pure rage in my eyes. As the referee finishes his instructions, he calls for the bell.
And that's when I spit green mist at your eyes.
jennydare
I see it a moment too late. My instincts should have warned me.
But now, all I can think of is the burning in my face. My eyes are on fire, my mouth is full of acid. I can't breathe. I clutch at my face and stumble backwards. I have to get away from you. I can't let you… can't let you win like this…
rowanchance
I see you stagger back and I leap on you. Right here. Right now. Finish you off in five seconds. Once and for all.
I leap up, grabbing your wrist, throwing my legs across your body, pulling you into a flying arm bar.
jennydare
I feel your hands on my arm and your legs straddling my body. So damn limber. So damn flexible.
I know what I have to do. Even with poison in my eyes and acid in my throat, I know what I have to do. I clasp my hands together and lock them tight. I pivot my hips and plant my feet. I can't let you take me down.
With that base, my fingers locked together, I begin spinning. Spinning until either I fall or you get thrown.
rowanchance
Your fingers won’t break. I feel myself spinning, losing my grip. Damn it! Damn it!
I spiral off you, hitting the mat, sliding across the canvas, tumbling to the corner. I slam my hands on the mat and get back up, glaring at you.
jennydare
I spread my base and give you the “come get some” smile.
rowanchance
I shake my head, my frustration building. Have to turn that into something more dangerous. I prowl around the corners of the ring, never losing eye contact. Then, I get a little closer, raising my arms for a collar and elbow.
jennydare
This is a trap. You’re smarter than this. You know I’m stronger than you. Okay. The first part of avoiding a trap is knowing it is a trap. I let you get close enough for the lockup, then I charge into it.
rowanchance
As you go for the lockup, I try avoiding your grip, going for a go quick go behind.
jennydare
You were always quick. Yes, I stumble forward, missing the expected lock up and feel your arms now around my waist. I try to reach behind, maybe grab your neck or even slip my hands under your arms for a quick power out before you pull off whatever evil you happen to be planning.
rowanchance
I bend my legs and get low, pushing up for a German suplex, lifting all 180 pounds of you, trying to get you over my head.
jennydare
Too predictable, Chance, I think to myself and lower my center of gravity, blocking the move. Then, I reach up and behind me, reaching for your head and neck, trying to get enough of a grip so I can throw you over my shoulders.
rowanchance
I feel you block the lift. I try again and you block it again. Damn your strength! That’s when I feel you reach up, leverage your hands behind me and I go flying over your shoulders. I flip far enough to hit the ropes and slam to the mat on my hip. The crowd goes nuts, of course. Sheep. I get back up while you make some kind of heroic pose and draw in more of the fans’ cheers. I didn’t think my hatred of you could get any more intense, but now, all I can think of is wrenching down on your neck so hard that everyone in this building hears you scream, “I QUIT!” I want to silence their chants and their roars as they watch their precious blonde hero finally admit defeat. Admit that I’m the better woman. And I can’t wait to walk down that aisle with that belt. I’ll show it to each and every one of them and say, “Where’s your hero now?”
You think you’ve got this match won already, don’t you? Just look at you. Tall and confident and proud. I’ll wipe that confidence off your face and replace it with pain.
jennydare
Watching you stalk around the ring makes me smile. I can hear the roar of the crowd and I can hear them chanting my name. They want me to put you away once and for all. And I’m going to do that. No more backstage ambushes, no more veiled lesbian come ons. One of us is going to say “I QUIT!” tonight, Chance. And it ain’t gonna be me.
rowanchance
I can hear what you’re thinking just by looking at your eyes. I nod. Then, I rush in for another lockup.
jennydare
I run forward, too. I know you aren’t strong enough to take me.
rowanchance
and when we lock up, I shift my head back and then thrust it forward, right toward the bridge of your nose.
jennydare
I see it coming, but too late. You don’t hit the bridge of my nose, but suddenly, my face erupts in unexpected pain. I lose my grip on you and turn away, my right hand moving up to where your forehead hit me.
rowanchance
With your back toward me, I rush at you, jumping up, wrapping your head with my right arm, jumping forward and pulling us into a good ol’ fashioned Michael Hayes Georgia Bulldog.
jennydare
I feel my feet leave the mat as my body rushes forward, my head angled all wrong for this fall. I feel my face smash into the canvas, the same place your forehead hit me just a moment ago. All I see are stars and all I feel is the sharp pain in my face. I reach up, putting my hands over it, as if that could help. I know I’m rolling over on my back… stop that. Fight that. I try to roll toward the edge of the ring. Have to get away from you for at least a second.
rowanchance
You try rolling away and I laugh. I jump on you, straddling your back. I throw forearms at the back of your head, the kind they threw at me in the dojo back in Japan. I move my legs so my knees are over your shoulders, pinning them down, continuing to pummel your skull. “How about now?” I shout at you. “Do you know the escape? Do you?”
jennydare
I still can’t think straight. That headbutt did more damage than I thought. Maybe even broke a bone in my face. I can feel it puff up. That one’s going to leave a bruise at least. But then, I feel your weight on my back and feel the barrage against my skull.
I’ve got to stop this. I put my hands against the mat, shift my legs so the weight is on my knees and I start to lift myself up.
rowanchance
I feel you lifting up from under me. I’ve got to find a way to cut that strength of yours. Well, if you’ve got no back, you’ve got no strength. So, I jump up, legs on either side of you, and fall right back down, putting all that impact on your spine.
jennydare
I feel all your weight crash down on me and I fall back down to the mat. I’ve got to get up. Got to get out of this. I’m in a dangerous place and I know it. I reach out to the ropes, but then remember, this is an I Quit match. Getting to the ropes isn’t going to help me. I try turning, at least get myself facing you. That way, I can reach up and grab and get a hold of you and maybe get out of this.
rowanchance
You scramble under me, but I’ve got the speed advantage, not you. And while you’re on your belly, I reach forward, grabbing at your right ankle, trying to pull it back so I can arch your leg so far, I’ll tap the bottom of your boot to the back of your head.
jennydare
You get your hands around my thigh, then my shin, and finally my ankle, pulling it back into a single-leg Boston Crab. You are the true student of pain. I’ve learned that the hard way. And when you cinch that hold in, I can feel your expertise and knowledge first-hand. I can feel the tendons in my ankle strain and I can feel the scream in my throat rush up my throat. I choke it down. I won’t give you that satisfaction. Instead, I try pushing against the hold, pushing against the pain, trying to get my ankle out of your grip.
rowanchance
I feel you fighting the hold and I laugh. “Keep trying, babe!” I shout back at you. And I cinch it in tighter, pulling your ankle back further, putting pressure not only on your ankle now, but adding pressure to your knee. I arch my back, throwing my weight backward, adding even more pressure and pain. You know exactly how far I can bend back. I keep reaching and reaching until the back of my head is against the back of your head, bringing your knee and ankle back with me.
And there’s the ref in your face. You know what he’s asking.
jennydare
I hear the referee asking me the question. I shout, “NO!” I’ve got to twist, got to get the pressure off my leg. I twist my spine, adding to the pain in my leg, but I’ve got to escape. I’ve got to get out.
rowanchance
You’re not getting out, babe. This is it. This is where you show your horny little fanboys just what kind of woman you are. You twist and you turn, but I’ve always been faster than you. This is MY match. What submissions do you know? None.
What submissions do I know? All of them.
jennydare
There’s a point where temporary damage turns to permanent injury. We’re almost there. I can feel it. I have a choice to make. I can fight and suffer or I can submit and save myself for another day.
The words tremble on my lips. I bite them back. The referee is there, asking me. He can tell exactly what’s happening. I can see it in his eyes.
I have one choice. I’m not going to give you this victory. I’m not going to let you take this belt from me.
I shift my left leg, putting it under me. I put my hands under me, pushing up. Lifting with my leg, lifting with my hands, I start pushing upward, lifting both of us up off the mat.
rowanchance
No way.
No. Fucking. Way.
I feel you pushing up, lifting both of us off the mat. I wrench on your ankle, trying to put you back down. I twist it so hard, I’m going to break it. I shout it out loud. “I’ll break it, Dare! I’ll break it!”
But your damn strength is too much. Even here, you’re almost out of the hold. I make one last effort to put you back down in it, resetting my grip, turning your ankle further than it should go.
You’ll go back down, dammit. You WILL go back down.
jennydare
There’s a moment where I know my ankle will never be the same. It will never have the strength it did before. But this isn’t a sport for quitters.
I’m up enough to twist in your grip, you holding on to my right ankle and me standing on my left leg. I reach back with my right arm and SLAM a fist against your face. Then another. And I pull back for the third, hoping this last one will get you off me.
rowanchance
I can’t believe it. You’ve broken holds of mine before, but never like this.
I feel the first punch and it nearly knocks me out. But I won’t let go.
The second punch lands, and my grip shakes.
The third one knocks me straight on my back, gripping my skull as your jackhammer punches nearly knock me into next week.
jennydare
When you fall, I fall. My ankle is gone. I don’t even know if I can stand on it, let alone make a run for my Go Home Lariat.
I see you on the mat and know I have to move fast. You don’t ignore pain, I know that. You love it. Every time we’ve met, it seemed the more I hurt you, the stronger you got. I get myself to a standing position, all my weight on my left foot. I limp toward you, flat on the mat. You’re starting to get up. I need to keep you down. Don’t need you pulling any of your dirty tricks or catching me in some crazy Japanese submission hold.
You’re up to your knees. I grab your head and put it between my legs, lock your arms in mine. I don’t know if I can lift you up for a suplex with one leg, but I’m going to try.
rowanchance
My head between your thighs, my arms locked. You can’t do this. Not with one leg. Not with one…
I feel my body lifted off my feet, flying over your head and slamming to the mat behind you, knocking the wind out of my lungs, stunning me for just a moment.
But all you need is a damn moment. I’ve got to get back to my feet.
jennydare
I land on my back, feeling you fly over me. I didn’t use my right ankle, but it still burns when I land. I get back to my feet, but very slowly. I’ve only got one wheel. As this match goes on, I don’t know if I’ll be able to pull off any of my key power moves, not without causing even more injury. And that will only make it more vulnerable to your precise and deadly holds.
rowanchance
You’re on your feet before me. Dammit.
I roll backwards, putting space between me and you.
I look at your ankle. I even point at it and smile. Yeah, that suplex put a hurt on my back, but it only makes me a little dizzy. A little drunk. I lick my lips.
I jump forward, going low, trying to hook that ankle of yours.
jennydare
You move so fast, I feel your hands on my ankle before I even see you move. Even with that quick touch, even with just a heartbeat under your grip, I have to gasp.
But I skip out of the way, dancing to the corner of the ring.
rowanchance
I swing myself back up to my feet and my grin is wide. I put up my thumb and forefinger.
“This close,” I say.
jennydare
I return your grin and with a little flirtation in my voice, I say “Get closer.”
rowanchance
Oh, you fucking tease.
I go in, ducking low, trying for a single leg takedown.
jennydare
You go in low and I try grabbing your head in a front face lock, putting my legs behind me and out of reach.
rowanchance
You may not be quick, but for a woman of your size, it’s easy to underestimate your speed. You get your front face lock. I throw a judo chop against the side of your waist, trying to break the lock.
jennydare
Your chops hit my side, stinging with each blow. I throw a forearm against your back, then another one, trying to stun you for a second.
rowanchance
Those damn forearms of yours. It’s like getting hit by a sledgehammer. You knock my wind out of me again and you feel my legs go rubber for just a moment.
jennydare
I throw your arm over my shoulder and lift you up straight into the air, holding you in a standing suplex, letting all your blood rush down into your head. The crowd pops and I do my traditional turn so each side of the ring can see you held high above me just before I turn to drop you.
rowanchance
The fucking humiliation of this never gets better. But I know what’s coming and I know the timing. You stupid heroes always love pleasing the fans. And this gives me a golden opportunity.
You turn me one last time and I shift my hips, tightening the grip of my arm around your neck, then kick my legs downward, trying to pull you into my patented flying DDT!
jennydare
I’ve seen you win so many matches with this move, but you’ve never been able to put it on me. And now, as I spin down toward the mat, a part of me knows this could be it. And when I land, my neck compressing down, my skull slamming hard against the boards, I flop over onto my back, a combination of a nuclear explosion and sonic boom blinding and deafening me.
The impact forces my body back up into a sitting position, but my head and neck are at a sick angle. Then, I fall to my back, motionless.
rowanchance
For a second, I forget the stipulations of this match and go for the cover, but the ref taps my shoulder, shaking his head.
My initial look of frustration turns to something much more wicked as I realize I’m lying on your still, unmoving body. I slither over you until we are breast-to-breast, face to face. And I hesitate over you, my lips hovering just over yours. And then, I put a kiss on your lips as I move my hands through your hair.
And when I’m done, I slide off you. I just made you a conquest. A trophy.
And now, I’m going to break my trophy.
I slide out of the ring and grab the chair from the time keeper. I turn back to the ring, chair in my hands.
jennydare
I’m barely conscious and I feel a sensuous body moving over mine. I feel the kiss and somewhere in my head, I know it’s you.
Damn you and your sex mind games. You and Tantalus both.
For some reason, I’m left alone. I’m able to open my eyes, my mind clearing the cobwebs. I try to sit up and nearly fall back down. I’m lucky this is an I Quit match, because if it was a standard match, I would not have the belt right now. I’d be laying in the ring, unable to get to my feet, listening to your music as you held the belt above your head.
But this isn’t a standard match and I’m still in a lot of trouble.
I try to get up again, this time making it to my knee. I forget what happened to my ankle and when I put weight on it, I fall back, clutching it with both hands. I hear you come back into the ring and instinctively, I know what you’ve got in your hands. I’ve got to get up. Got to fight the fog in my head.
rowanchance
I see you trying to get to your feet and I laugh. Not this time, Dare. Not this time.
I lift the chair high above my head and swing it straight down toward your ankle with all the strength I’ve got.
jennydare
The chair hits my ankle and I scream out loud, snapping my ankle toward me, reaching for it. My face squeezes in pain.
There’s only one thing the referee can do and that’s ask me, “Do you quit?”
I can’t talk. All I can do is shake my head and suck air between my lips.
rowanchance
I lift the chair again, swinging it hard toward your ankle one more time.
jennydare
The chair hits, sending an echo through the building, over the heads of the almost silent crowd.
If my ankle wasn’t broken before, it must be now.
The referee asks me again. The words are there. I bite my tongue. I can’t say “No” and I won’t say “Yes.” I shut my eyes and say nothing.
rowanchance
I’ve got you. Finally. I’ve got you, Dare.
I lift the chair one more time, swinging it down at your leg.
jennydare
One more hit. That’s all it will take. One more hit and I won’t be able to take any more.
As you lift the chair, I lift my left leg and kick just as you swing it down, hoping I can catch the chair before it hits my ankle.
rowanchance
The chair swings and your foot catches it, slamming it back straight into my face. The metal of the chair slams straight into me, exploding pain all over my face. I fall back, stumbling straight through the ropes, out onto the apron, then down on the floor. Everything is red.
And when I finally get my senses back, I feel something wet and sticky on my face. I put a hand up and feel it.
I’m bleeding.
I smile.
jennydare
I can’t even think of putting weight on my left ankle. My foot hangs limply from my leg. I can’t feel my toes. The ref asks me if I’m sure I want to continue. I just glare at him.
I see you on the outside of the ring, getting to your feet. I see the splash of crimson on your face and I know what I have to do.
Limping, I get to the edge of the ring, put my hands on the top rope and with one leg, I push up, jumping over the top rope, flying through the air, earning my nickname.
rowanchance
I see you flying and in an instant, I know what to do.
I step aside, swinging the chair, hitting your back as you fly by me, crashing to the ground.
jennydare
The chair hits me in the back and the floor hits the rest of me.
I can’t move. I can’t breathe.
rowanchance
Blood trickling into my eyes and mouth, I cackle like a witch. I step over to you, flat on your belly, and I grab your ankle.
I slide it between the folds of the metal chair, hearing the crowd screaming at me to stop. Even the ref is telling me to cut it out.
I shove him out of the way. He admonishes me. I shout at him, “DISQUALIFY ME, ASSHOLE!”
His frustration is tattooed to his face. Like I care.
I climb up to the ring apron and then to the top rope with a single quick jump, invoking the Savage Randy. Then, I look down at your body. A perfect target. I take careful aim and then, I jump down, aiming with a frog splash.
jennydare
Somewhere in my head, I know where you are and I know what you’re doing. I see you on the top rope. If you hit this, it’s over. I may not even have an ankle if you land on that chair. I see you leap up, begging my body to move, but it won’t. Not an inch.
And at the last moment, just before you hit, I move. I roll out of the way, saving my leg, feeling the impact of your body slam against the floor just next to me.
rowanchance
I crash to the floor, slamming into its merciless, unforgiving surface. My jaw slams into the floor and everything turns black.
jennydare
Both of us are on the floor, unable to move. The crowd is going nuts, chanting my name, begging me to get to my feet.
I see you, not moving at all. Could even you take that amount of pain?
I take the chair off my ankle and use it to push myself to my feet. Or, I should say, my foot. The cheer of the crowd pushes me, but even they can’t give me enough adrenaline to ignore what’s happening in my ankle.
I use the chair as a crutch, moving over toward you. Then, I unfold it and use it to bend over and grab you by the hair. As I pull you up, I see your eyes fluttering, your lips trembling. You are in a dark, dark place. I turn to the ref.
“Ask her,” I say, my own voice trembling. “Ask her!”
rowanchance
Something… is… crushed… in my chest. Every… breath I… take… burns.
I barely hear your voice. Then, I barely hear the ref’s question.
“F-fuck off,” I whisper. The words are agony.
jennydare
When the audience sees the ref shake his head, they gasp.
I just nod.
I put your head between my legs. The audience gasps again.
I put my arms around your waist. I don’t know if I can do this. With all my weight on one ankle, I lift…
rowanchance
I feel what you’re doing. I wish I could stop it. I can’t.
I feel you lift my body up. If your ankle can take it, I’m taking a ride.
jennydare
I lift you up above my head. I kneel on the chair to give my other leg the support it needs. Then, up above me, I swing you back down, straight at the floor.
rowanchance
All that power you have in your upper body. I’ve felt this before. I know what’s coming. But not on the floor.
I slam down, the concrete your ally.
I feel my ribs swimming in my chest with the impact, but the real pain is in my back, in my spine. Something bends, but doesn’t quite break. The back of my head hits the floor and a black smoke rushes over my brain, a cold embrace that sucks me down into the darkness.
I hear the echo of a voice. A male voice. It sounds like I’m underwater. I know what it is and I know what to say, but I can barely say it.
“fuck you”
jennydare
The referee looks at me with stunned disbelief. He shakes his head.
I look down at you. I can’t believe it, either.
I bend down and pick you up again. I put your head between my thighs and my arms around your waist. And I lift.
rowanchance
I feel myself being lifted again. And when I reach the apex, I shift my legs, putting my chin across your throat, my hands around the back of your head. I pull it toward me, trying for the gogaplata.
jennydare
When you shift in my grip, I feel the hold lock on. And like your DDT, I’ve seen so many others give in under this hold. Now, I understand why.
My throat closes. I feel my larynx crushing under your grip. My head feels like it’s being pulled off my neck. This isn’t a submission move: this is a weapon used to cripple. My head swims in darkness, perhaps the same darkness you are in, and I stumble onto my bad ankle. I want to scream, but I can’t. I can’t even breathe.
I can’t see. I can’t breathe. My body… I can’t… I can’t…
I hear the referee asking me.
My limbs fail. I simply fall forward, limp as a rag doll.
rowanchance
We both fall, you face-toward toward the floor, and me with my back toward the concrete.
But we miss the concrete. Instead, we hit that chair.
The metal of the chair slams into my already injured back. That isn’t enough to make me break the hold.
But then, the concrete…
I’ve already tasted it once. This time, I get enough to choke on.
The impact throws me even deeper into that cold darkness. I lose the hold, my arms slapping down to the concrete.
jennydare
For the second time, both of us are on the floor, unmoving. I don’t know if I can move. I open my eyes and see you, the crushed chair under you. Once again, I got lucky. I didn’t escape that hold. I was done. Luck saved me.
I push myself back to my feet, but it’s a war against my own body.
Finally, I get up, using the ring apron to keep me vertical. I grab you by the shoulders and pull you up. You’re all dead weight, but I’ve benched more than you. I put your head between my thighs, wrap my arms around your waist. Time to finish this.
I lift…
rowanchance
I can’t stop you. Anything you do now… I can’t protect myself.
As you lift me up, I fall helplessly over your shoulders. I can’t stop you.
jennydare
Up above my shoulders, I hold you on one foot. I’m sure the announcers are having a field day with that.
Then, I turn toward the ring and I SLAM you down against the ring apron, keeping hold of your legs tight in my arms.
rowanchance
My back hits the apron and my back arches so hard and so far, my arms splayed out to the side. My mouth opens and you hear a cry of agony that you’ve never heard from me before. It’s so pitiful, so painful, the audience goes silent.
The referee asks me the question. I slowly shake my head. “N-no.” It sounds more like a question than an answer.
I look up at you. There’s maybe an ounce of defiance in my eyes. Maybe.
All I can do is raise a hand and touch your face. A pathetic attempt at a slap.
jennydare
I lift again, pulling you up above my shoulders. Then, I SLAM you down against the ring apron again.
rowanchance
I feel my spine hit the ring apron and my whole body just crumbles.
The referee asks me. I’m paralyzed on the apron, my back arched, my fingers clenched. My mouth is wide open. I say nothing.
The referee asks again.
“j-jenny… i.. can’t… i can’t…”
The referee asks a third time.
I can’t even look at you.
Tears in my eyes.
I tell the referee: “n-no.”
jennydare
I look at you and I don’t want to do what I have to do. A part of me screams for me to stop. She’s finished. Why can’t she just admit it? Why is she making me do this?
I hesitate for just a second. Then, I remember all the times you jumped me backstage. All the mind games. How you broke August’s leg when I was handcuffed to the rope and watched me as you did it. How you DDT’d Simon over and over again. How he’s still in a neck brace because of you. How many others have you crippled? How many careers have you ended?
And you laughed at them as they got carried away.
You aren’t a wrestler. You’re a bully. You’re a hit woman. You love pain, both delivering it and taking it.
I’m going to show you that you aren’t unbreakable. I’m going to show you what it feels like to get carried out on a stretcher. I’m going to show you what it feels like to be helpless.
And right then and there, I decide I want to break your back, you sick little bitch.
I lift you up one more time. I put both feet under me. I don’t care about the pain. I use every ounce of strength in me and I SLAM you down on the apron.
rowanchance
I hit the apron and something snaps inside me. My lower body goes completely limp as I lose all sensation in my legs. The cry that escapes my lips is something nobody has ever heard before.
Pure fear.
The ref asks me, “Do you quit, Rowan?”
“n-no… no… no more… please… no more…”
jennydare
“SAY IT, ROWAN! SAY IT!”
rowanchance
“i quit… please. i quit… no more… no more…”
jennydare
I let go of your legs and let you fall to the concrete.
The ref shouts, “That’s it! Ring the bell! Ring the bell!” He sounds like he just announced the end of a war.
The bell rings and my music plays. I fall to the ground, exhausted, my ankle finally giving out completely. This isn’t the shot the promoter wants: the champ on the ground, her face twisted in pain, but this is what he’s going to get for putting me in this match with that psychopath.
I look at her. She’s twisted and bent like she was in a car crash. And maybe she’ll think twice before she goes after someone’s career rather than the win.
The ref gives me the belt and helps me to my feet. I hold it above my head. Might as well. I don’t know if I’ll ever walk again, let alone wrestle.
I see the EMTs coming down to check on Rowan. She won’t be leaving this place under her own power. I see her hair smeared with blood and sweat across her face. She’s out.
And for a second, I want to hurt her more. Show her how it feels.
And the audience can read my mind. They start chanting, “NO!” At least, some of them do. The smart marks want me to turn heel.
I clutch the belt and think about it. Think about pounding the small of her back with it.
The crowd is divided, fifty-fifty.
I clutch the belt…
The ref thinks putting his body between me and Rowan can stop me.
I clutch the belt…
She’s just laying there. I could do anything I wanted to her.
I clutch the belt…
But I stop. I shake my head.
“You’re not worth it,” I say to Rowan’s unconscious body. Then, with the ref’s help, I start limping my way back to the locker room.
