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The Rite Of Culling (Deathfight)

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Offline southwrestler09

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The Rite Of Culling (Deathfight)
« on: December 04, 2020, 05:54:59 PM »
Set up for my newest story.  Let me know what you think as always!

THE RITE OF CULLING PART 1

Dearest Walker Family,

I and the high council of your Region in the One Planet Government hope this letter finds you well.  As you are well aware, your daughter, Mariah Anne Walker will turn 18 years old on this Fifth of April, 212 PA.  As you are also aware, under Decree 402 of the One Planet Grand Council, to address the problem of overpopulation affecting our ever-scarce resources, no family is allowed to have more than one child of the same gender survive past the age of 18.  As you already have one daughter, Morgan Avalon Walker, aged 20, this is your official notice that The Rite of Culling must be enacted within seven days of the passing of Madam Mariah’s birthday.  In accordance with tradition, it is assumed that you will take the traditional method of allowing the two offspring to engage in combat to determine the surviving party.  This is to ensure that our society only has the strongest and best of our kind carrying on our proud new world.

We have included a government recommended itinerary of events for the Rite of Culling that may help ease the difficult days ahead.  Your local High Council would also like to assure you that therapy will be provided to all surviving family members free of cost, as will the utmost of medical treatment (If necessary) for the party that emerges from the Rite alive.

We leave it to you to do your duty to our society.

 

Best Wishes,

Arthur Blackburn,

Head Councilman,

Region 98.

 

This was the letter that had arrived only a month ago, delivered by hand by the postman, and signed for by Mariah and Morgan Walker’s mother, who sighed and shivered a bit as she took the official looking envelope from the man’s hand.  This had always been something that had loomed over the girl’s heads, but was such a normal part of their society that it had gone without much discussion.  This brutal ritual had gone on for the last 70 years after all, and only the most elderly of their society remembered a time when the law was not in effect.

And now, three days after her 18th birthday, Mariah found herself sitting across their kitchen table from her older sister.  Day Three, according to the “suggested itinerary of events” was the day that the two people who had to engage in the Rite, were to decide on every aspect of how the event would take place.  They were somber.  Mariah and Morgan had always gotten along quite famously as sisters.  Always playing together as children, teasing boys as teenagers...anything imaginable.  Somehow, this had never come up between them before.  There was always more time.  At least one more day.  They sat and stared at the mahogany wood of the table, as their uncle, who agreed to mediate the discussion while their parents left for the evening sat to their sides.

“So, first, I think you two should decide how you want to do this.” he said evenly.  Measured.  Making sure not to make light of the situation.  “Do you...you know...use weapons?  Pistols would be quick and easy, but neither of you have ever fired a gun before...” he offered.  It was Morgan who shook her head first.  “No weapon I think.  We respect each other too much for that.  It should be me and you...” She said looking at her little sister as both of their blonde heads raised from their mutual meditation.  “Girl to girl.  Bodies only.  Best one wins.”  She finished.  Mariah mused this over and nodded.

“I think I agree.  But...you know that’s going to draw it out a lot.  We’re really evenly matched you know.  Does that bother you?”  She said.  Morgan shook her head.  “It’s the only way that I think the one who loses gets their proper respect.  It’s because we’re physically matched that we have to do it that way.  Neither of us has a better chance than the other.”  That logic, Mariah had to admit, was hard to argue with.  And so, that was agreed.

“Now.” Their uncle Mark prodded, hoping to help them get through this as painlessly as possible.  “You should think about where it’s going to happen.  Pick a place that is appropriate for both of you.  Somewhere you wouldn’t mind....well.” The unspoken word hung in the air, thick as the humidity in the Southern air outside.  “Somewhere you wouldn’t mind dying.” He paused for a second, about to say something more, but simply left the discussion to them.  It was Mariah who answered this question.  She had already thought this particular problem over.

“Remember where we went to that party?  Right by the creek where that big open sandy beach was?”  She smiled a bit despite herself.  Morgan let out a laugh.  “You mean where Alayna got all drunk and puked in Kyle’s lap?”  she bellowed with the memory.  Mariah joined in on the laughter and added “Yeah!  and then the boys all started wrestling around trying to impress all of us before Matt and Tyler crashed headfirst into you and sent you right into the water!”  They grinned and found themselves lost in the moment.  They sobered rather abruptly however when Uncle Mark cleared his throat.

“It...It’s perfect I think.” Morgan agreed somberly.  And so, the second factor of this perverse and unjust ritual was decided.  “We can meet there at midnight on Monday.  No one should come out there at that time.  It’ll be dark, but Monday is a full moon so we should have plenty of light.”  She added.  Mariah again found herself nodding.  Somehow, however, they sensed the names of Matt and Tyler in the offing.  The two had been twins.  Their parents, who never intended to allow themselves to have two boys had been devastated when Matt had called them on the seventh night after their own 18th birthday.  He was at the hospital.  Tyler was not coming home.  That had been only a few months after the very same party they had been discussing.  Mariah had had a crush on Tyler.  A superficial thing to think about in the moment, but one that put everything into a shocking perspective.  The worst part was...Tyler had been forced to have a closed casket funeral.  Matt had never quite been the same person after that service.  He never spoke of it, and they were all sure he never would.

And so, with every element in place, the girls began the process of preparing for the horrible thing to come.  It wasn’t until day five however, that the fight itself was ever mentioned in their household again.  Morgan, who had come to visit from her college dorm for the week, cornered Mariah in her bedroom.  The two were preparing for bed...their parents already fast asleep in their own upstairs room.  She walked into Mariah’s room unannounced and walked directly up to her.  The two of them in their simplest panties and overly large t-shirts that were their preferred bedclothes.  She had grasped her younger sister in a hug briefly before grabbing the collar of Mariah’s shirt and none too gently slamming her against the wall.  Mariah was briefly terrified that Morgan would attack her then and their until she saw the mist of tears in her sister’s eyes.   

“You listen to me.  You fight me and you fight me HARD.”  She said, shaking Mariah a bit.  “Don’t get all stupid and bleeding heart bitch on me do you hear me??” she practically bellowed.  Mariah simply stared at her.  “DON’T.  I want you to come at me with everything and remember that you are trying to KILL me.  I’m going to do the same to you, so don’t you DARE let me live with any idea that you might have thrown the fight or something.”  She looked at her sister, who also began to get a bit misty eyed.  “PROMISE ME MARIAH!  YOU STUPID BITCH MAKE ME THAT PROMISE!”  She screamed at full volume, racking sobs tearing her voice into the sound of glass breaking.  Mariah clasped her sister’s wrists and pivoted, pinning her against the same wall in return. 

“I promise.”  She said with the tiniest ghost of both a sob, and a tone of finality.  Neither one would be giving an inch.  That much was certain.

Day Six....They arrived at the clinic downtown to receive vitals monitoring microchip injections.  If one of those chips didn’t report a flatline back to the clinic within 48 hours....Their whole family...the entire Walker line...would be on the Enforcement Brigade’s kill list.  There was no going back.  No escaping.

Day.......

Seven......

The day passed far too quickly.  Both Mariah and Morgan had agreed not to see each other that day at all until midnight.  It was better that way.  They both took an hour a piece with their parents, spent a little of their time with friends and extended.  All separately from each other.  Not one single goodbye was shared between anyone.  The sun set, and both girls felt their pulses quicken.  The moon rose, mercilessly gazing down upon them as the hours went by.  Each hour seeming only a minute in the impending dread that settled over both of them.

11:30pm.....Mariah, in her bedroom, heard what sounded like a crow outside her window cawing.  She pulled on her favorite hoodie.  A “West Amber Wrestling” hoodie that Tyler’s parents had given her.  It was large on her, but it offered her some comfort as it settled over the clothes that she would be wearing for the showdown in just 30 minutes.  The darkness outside was broken by the sharp yellow glow of headlights as the cab pulled alongside the house and blew its shrill horn twice in quick succession.  Mariah had a car of course...but...Morgan did too.  And frankly....

There was no use in bringing two vehicles to a scene that only one of them would be leaving....

She took a deep breath...steeled her nerves and turned on her heels.  On her way out of her room, she caught sight of an old antique her great grandmother had left her.  Something that in today’s world had no meaning whatsoever.  It was an ancient picture frame...and in it was a picture of Mariah and Morgan hugging at Mariah’s fifth birthday party.  The frame was stenciled with the word’s “My Sister’s Keeper”.  Though, as Mariah turned off the bedroom light and looked at it one last time before walking out the door, the moonlight cast a twisted shadow onto its surface.

She could have sworn...Just for a moment...That the words on the frame had changed wickedly...She thought for sure, for one second, she had read...

My Sister’s Killer.

 

TO BE CONTINUED.

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Offline wanderingwarrior

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Re: The Rite Of Culling (Deathfight)
« Reply #1 on: December 04, 2020, 10:11:03 PM »
Great start!

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Offline southwrestler09

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Re: The Rite Of Culling (Deathfight)
« Reply #2 on: December 06, 2020, 07:05:09 PM »
Mariah gave the cab driver turn by turn directions, as she did not have a specific address to feed him.  It was a fifteen minute drive to the designated meeting place, but Mariah knew both of them would be arriving early.  She found herself breathing heavily as the cab made its way down each road.  She stared out of the window at the passing streetlights as they made their way along.  “Everything alright?”  The cab driver asked, looking in the rear view mirror, clearly trying to make a little conversation.m  He was a hispanic man, but with only the slightest hint of an accent.  His white polo shirt cutting a sharp contrast in the otherwise dark vehicle.

She didn’t know what made her answer with such candor, but she found herself talking none the less.  “Cesar right?” she said.  The man nodded into the rear view.  “Cesar...You know about the Rite of Culling don’t you?”  Mariah finished and watched as the man stiffened.  He was a middle aged man.  Probably around 45, and had a thick black mustache adorning his lip.  “I do.”  He said.  “It is a barbaric practice.  My mother used to talk about a time when family was everything.  It is not that way now.”  He said simply.  Mariah allowed herself a little laugh.  “Well Cesar, you’re actually driving me to my Culling right now.”

Cesar did not answer.  It was only two more minutes before they arrived at the place where Mariah decided to allow him to drop her off.  “The fare is no charge.” he said.  “My dear.  This is not how it will be forever.  I believe that good will prevail.  I’m sorry it did not do so in time for you and your sister.”  He added, taking her hand for a brief moment.  Mariah gave a smile and pulled away.

“Sorry Cesar.  Just don’t see it going that way.”  She said, and began the march down the hiking trail that led to the little hideaway that had once housed the revelry of drunken teenagers, but now would be host to the death of either herself or her sister.

It was a short walk.  Just past some trees and a little bramble before she found the sharp decline that led to the field of hard packed dirt that they had once called a beach, lining itself with the lightly babbling river that had housed all too many a late night swim or drunken teenage party.  As she had expected, Mariah was already there.  Her back was turned, but she gave a long sigh as she heard Mariah’s footsteps approach.  “Found the place okay?”  she joked without even a ghost of amusement.  “Yeah.”  Mariah answered and stopped short on her walk about ten feet from her sister.

“Did you eat?  Drink some water?  Have you limbered up?”  Morgan asked as she turned to face her.  Mariah oddly found herself infuriated at the questions. “You aren’t my babysitter anymore Morgan...” She said, barely able to keep the growl out of her voice.  Morgan chuckled.

“I guess you’re right.”  She said, and reached down, grabbing the bottom corners of her Tshirt and pulling up, leaving her standing in the moonlight wearing her black spandex running shorts, so short that her ass was barely covered.  She had worn these on many a jog in the early summer mornings.  Mariah followed suit, pulling off her own sweatshirt.  Her outfit matched Morgan’s in most ways.  Her sports bra was black with a nike symbol embossed on the front, and her running shorts were a dark shade of grey.

They both tossed their excess clothes off to the side of the clearing and looked at each other.

“I love you.” Morgan said flatly.  Mariah was surprised.

“I....love you too.” She said and raised an eyebrow.  Morgan then began to limber up her limbs and stared daggers at Mariah.  “That’s it.  No more sister shit.  It’s time to get down to business.”  She said.

Mariah actually breathed a sigh of relief.  “Good.  Should make this easier.”  Some time passed as they warmed up until Mariah jumped at her phone sounding off.

Midnight.

Morgan smirked and put up her hands.  “Time to go.” She said.  It was not a question.  Mariah responded in kind and the two of them stared across the few feet between them for a second.  Only a second.  But it seemed to stretch on for hours as they watched each other.  They each sidestepped, turning in a counter clockwise circle, waiting to see who made the first move.

It was Mariah, who surged forward with her lead foot, firing out her right fist which collided with Morgan’s jaw solidly.  This elicited a tiny grunt from her older sister, but it did not seem to phase her.  “Still hit like a bitch Mariah.” She growled and swung.  Her own right and then left fist colliding like a sledge hammer against Mariah’s temple, then her lips.  Mariah felt her head swim as lights popped behind her eyes.  That fucking hurt.  Morgan would not let up as Mariah found herself a bit dazed.  She felt it as her older sister grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and heard the smack as her stomach gave way to Morgan’s incoming knee.  She doubled over and groaned loudly.  As Morgan prepared another knee strike, this time aimed right at her face, she knew she had to act fast.  She lunged, wrapping her arms around her sister’s waist and began to mercilessly assault her side, aiming right for her kidney with her right fist.  This effectively stopped the quick and surprising opening attack as Morgan howled out in frustration and pain.  She grappled Mariah then, bending over her and attempting to throw her off. 

Instead, this had the effect of sending them both tumbling down to the dirt, rolling slightly away from each other.  Both of them bounded to their feet in the space of a second, then launched themselves at each other again.  Instead of meleeing with each other this time, the two girls grabbed each other’s shoulders, gritting teeth and staring at each other with intense focus and effort as they began a standing wrestling match.  They staggered and slipped as they each tried to overpower each other in this impromptu test of strength designed to force their opponent to the ground.  They each dug their heels in, neither one forcing the other back more than an inch at a time before the other managed to gain the ground right back.  They truly were an evenly matched pair of sisters.

Mariah saw with a sharp eye that she had a slight advantage.  Morgan’s back was to the water.  The quietly babbling creek was drowned out by the noise of their grunting and straining as well as the scrape of their feet in the dirt.  But Mariah knew that if she could force Morgan into the softer ground where the water met the land, she would lose her footing.  She could force her sister down and hopefully drown her in the shallow water.  Not the cleanest or neatest way to win, but it could hopefully end the fight quickly and with as little injury as possible.  However, as if Morgan had read her mind, the older girl smirked.

“Not gonna happen sis.”  She hissed, and spat the word ‘sis’ at her the same way she would have a coarse and common insult.  At that, Mariah felt the resistance coming from Morgan’s strength disappear entirely.  She felt herself tumbling forward with a gasp of surprise as her shoving and wrestling turned into a full spilling trip forward.  Expertly, Morgan pivoted and sidestepped Mariah, shoving her sister straight onto her face into the dirt just at the edge of the water.  Mariah cursed under her breath and began to bolt up, but Morgan was on her just a little too fast. 

Mariah felt her sister’s foot collide with her directly between her shoulder blades, sending her sprawling again.  Then, Morgan had straddled her lower back.  Mariah bucked as Morgan’s hands clasped under her chin and started pulling upward.  Mariah found herself strained in a camel clutch hold and began to grit her teeth, then moan in pain.  However, she was mildly confused.  This was a wrestling hold.  One that, in their childhood roughhousing they had pulled on each other plenty of times.  It wasn’t something you’d expect from a fight to the death.  Her confusion, however, was answered quite quickly enough as she noticed that Morgan didn’t just stop pulling when she had found the point at which her hold met resistance from Mariah’s spine and back muscles.  No...she had slowly lifted the hold, easing into it so as to stretch Mariah out a bit.  And she was still going.  She was still increasing the pressure.  More, and more, and more...This wasn’t a hold designed to make her submit.  That of course, was not an option.

Morgan was trying to break her spine.

She howled in agony as the hold was cranked on inch by merciless inch.  “OW....FUCK MORGAN WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” she found herself screaming.   

“I’m killing you Mariah.” Morgan said a little too flatly.  With that, as the pressure increased, Mariah decided it was time to fight back dirty.  She reached up and raked her fingers across Morgan’s face, aiming specifically for her eyes.  She managed to leave red welts across Morgan’s face, some of them spotting a little blood, but had missed her eyes.  It was enough however, for Morgan to gasp and drop Mariah’s chin by a fraction.  At that moment, Mariah noted just how much adrenaline could account for.  Her pain was gone.  Entirely.  The fact that she had almost had her spine damaged beyond the ability to fight back was enough to bring her into full fighting mode again.

“You fucking BITCH!!!” Mariah screamed as she ripped Morgan’s hands off of her and bucked upward with her hips and butt, sending Morgan crashing to the dirt on her face.  Her distraction had cost her that easy victory.  “YOU DIRTY ROTTEN NASTY FUCKING BITCH!” Mariah screamed and dived at her sister.  The near loss had scared her into a frenzy.  And she was out for blood now.  She dove on top of Morgan just as she had rolled to her back.  Mariah grabbed her by the hair and pulled up, dragging her opponent’s face into her fist.  Morgan’s nose met it with a sickening thud and the faintest hint of a crack as blood began to pour down it.  “Fucking HELL!” Morgan screamed, just as Mariah began to unload on her with raining punches. 

It was short lived as Morgan quickly managed to get hold of Mariah’s face and SMASHED it into her forehead, eliciting a matching gush of blood from her nose and mouth.  “I wanted to be quick.”  Morgan growled, her own adrenaline getting the better of her as they rolled away from each other, clutching their faces.  “Now, I think I’ll fuck up that pretty little body of yours for a while first.  Mariah wasn’t intimidated in the slightest.

“We always knew this wouldn’t end quickly anyway.”  She said as they began to circle again.  “Come on Morgan.  They can fix anything for the survivor with all the medicine we have now.  Let’s stop playing around.”  She growled.

“You sure you wanna go there?”  Morgan asked.  “Because if we do...you’re going to suffer before you die.”  Mariah smirked at her older sister then.  “I can’t wait.  Let’s destroy each other.  Come on.  Like you said...It’s the only way the loser is properly respected.”

And so, they crouched low and lunged again.  They loved each other, but all thoughts of that had to be dispelled now.  All that mattered was that the two of them now intended not only to kill the other...but they were going to do it slowly.  Again....adrenaline in the heat of a battle for your life can really change your perspective.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

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Offline HeyCassandra

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Re: The Rite Of Culling (Deathfight)
« Reply #3 on: December 07, 2020, 05:54:14 PM »
This is quite entertaining to read, please continue when able!

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Offline Rocko23

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Re: The Rite Of Culling (Deathfight)
« Reply #4 on: December 08, 2020, 01:36:12 AM »
Really good concept and liking the battle thus far- hope they go for each others boobs and crotch! More please!

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Offline southwrestler09

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Re: The Rite Of Culling (Deathfight)
« Reply #5 on: December 11, 2020, 08:24:12 PM »
WARNING:  This next and final part is heavy on the violence and graphic content.  If this is not your speed, please look away.  Otherwise, feel free to let me know your thoughts.  I also left it open for a sort of continuation.  Maybe I’ll keep it going, though it depends on the general opinion of the work.  Hope you enjoy.

 

 

The cicadas in the trees over the ridge chirped loudly.  They were not aware of what was transpiring just below them.  They were not aware why it was so earth shattering or important.  They called out into the night, only wishing to be heard over the screams and curses that echoed out over them.  Morgan heard these chirps and registered them briefly as she and Mariah glared across their invisible circle at each other.  She wished it would stop.  Wished it would let her focus.  But...she knew she was kidding herself.  She had never truly been more focused in her life.  She knew she loved her little sister.  Knew it even now.  Even after the vow they had made in haste and anger to make this fight to the death last as long as they could.  She knew she loved Mariah.  But she was still not going to let herself be the one to die here.  She saw that she and Mariah were both bleeding now.  Not as profusely as they had thought at first.  But enough to mar both of their faces with traces of red.  She wanted more.  She loved her sister.

And so she intended to let the both of them get their fill of violence.

She slid her right foot forward, going into a wrestler’s crouch.  Her hands were raised...one in a fist, and the other in an open but rigged clawed formation.  She knew that those that died in the Rite of Culling became organ donors upon their deaths.  She saw Mariah crouch low and bare her teeth, hands ready to catch any onslaught she might deliver.

She knew that those organs were often used to repair the survivors. She knew they could fix anything.  Missing eyes, broken bones, ruined organs.  She knew technology was at its best these days.  She dug her toes into the gravel filled and hard packed sand.  “Say the word little sister.” she growled.  She knew that no matter what....whoever survived this would be good as new in no more than a few weeks.

She knew she loved her sister. And she knew that it didn’t matter.  She’d hurt her.  She’d hurt her badly.  She would do so, and then she would kill her, or she would be killed.  Either way, Mariah wouldn’t suffer for long.  She let herself breathe out a sigh of relief at the thought.  She could let it all go now.  “The word...” Mariah hissed, and the world exploded around them.  Just as the biblical prophecy described the sky unfolding as if it were a scroll, and the moon turning to blood, the entire universe converged on their emotions in that moment.

A savage scream.  The scrape of bare feet on raw earth.  They dove into each other and began to melee.  Like schoolyard brawlers in search of a petty victory, they pummeled and pulled at each other.  One hand wrapped in the other’s hair, they howled into the night as fists found purchase on each other’s faces and bodies.  Nothing mattered now but inflicting pain.  It wasn’t until Morgan had been struck hard across the cheek that she saw an opening.  The blow had been hard, and it had opened the floodgates of her survival instinct.  She saw as Mariah drew her fist back again.  A bit too far.  She knew her other hand was firmly rooted in her hair.  It burned like hellfire after all.  And with that, she jolted forward, raising her knee into Mariah’s open legs, driving it deep into her crotch.

A scream ripped open the night and Morgan seized her opportunity.  She jabbed her little sister in the mouth with a quick and precise strike, then let go of the hold she had in those pretty curls and aimed low.  She grabbed Mariah’s right breast through the sports bra and dug in her fingers.  She heard Mariah hiss as she clutched her and drove forward, yanking at her sister to unbalance her and once again bring the fight to the ground.  They tumbled, and Morgan again found herself on top of Mariah.  She continued to dig her fingers into her little sister’s breast, eliciting an open mouthed groan of pain before she moved her left hand to grab the sides of Mariah’s face, clutching it hard and forcing her opponent to look up at her.  Mariah’s fingers were still wrapped firmly in her hair and her other hand gripped Morgan’s shoulders firmly from her place on the ground.  For a full minute, they heaved heavy gulps of air into their lungs and glared at each other, inflicting what pain they could with the hand they had placed on their point of attack. 

“What now Mariah?”  Morgan asked her sister as she bore down on her.  “All you can do is pull my hair?  Come on...what now?” She taunted as Mariah growled up at her.  “I’m just getting started you whore.”  Mariah spat back at her.  They were both filthy.  Covered in dirt, and spots of blood from the battle thus far.  As they looked at each other, their still position giving them both a chance to breathe, the pain began to set in again, as did the gravity of what was happening here.  Morgan let go of Mariah’s face and SLAPPED her hard and fast on the right cheek.  Mariah grunted as her face turned just as another slap was delivered, echoing in the night with a savage clap.

“I think I’ll just smack you around a little for now.”  Morgan smirked as she slapped her sister across the mouth a third time.  This time getting an angry exclamation from her.  As she reared her hand back a fourth time however, she felt the world upend itself.  Mariah had used her leverage in Morgan’s hair and on her shoulder to roll the two of them over.  Mariah, now on top and with her face and breast free of the older girl’s clutches, straddled her opponent and pinned her to the dirt before slamming her fist into Morgan’s face.  Morgan yelled and found her scream cut short as Mariah’s hands found her throat and squeezed her windpipe shut.  She gurgled as Mariah gripped her tightly, letting out whining and choked gasps of air as the chokehold took her.  Her legs kicked and her hips bucked in the dirt as Mariah pressed down on her.  Mariah grinned down as the moonlight washed over Morgan’s face.  She gripped even harder as Morgan began to pry at her wrists to loosen them.

“You don’t have to pretend you don’t like it.”  Mariah taunted.  “I know you like Adam to choke you.”  She said, referencing Morgan’s boyfriend.  “Who knows?  When this is over, maybe I’ll ask him to show me what he can do.”  She of course would never do such a thing...But in the moment, she wanted to say it.  Morgan glared up at her and continued to gurgle out.  Suddenly, she reached down, getting her hand between both of their struggling hips and dug her fingers into the front of Mariah’s shorts in a brutal clawing maneuver.  Mariah shrieked and let go of Morgan’s throat as she leaped back away from her, scrambling to her hands and knees a few feet from her sister.  Morgan quickly got to all fours as well and they stared across the darkness at each other.  Neither said a word.  They only sprang at each other.  Both of them grappled and scratched at each other’s bodies and faces as they tumbled across the sand.  Finally, with a shock, they felt the cold of the shallow edge of the creek as they hurdled into it.  The sounds of splashing and bodies smacking into the water harmonizing with the sounds of grunting and screaming as they savagely wrestled together in the creek’s edge.  As they punched, kicked, scratched and bit at each other, opening new cuts and forming new welts and bruises, their howling slowly transitioned into angry and pain filled sobs.  Mariah found herself screaming out as Morgan’s teeth found her shoulder and clamped down on it.  She cried out and pummeled Morgan’s head and back as she writhed to get loose.  Even splayed out on the ground, luckily the water here wasn’t deep enough to submerge them.

Both girls sobbed into each other as they tumbled and wrestled like battling snakes in the water’s edge.  Morgan’s teeth refused to let go and Mariah clamped her own mouth onto her older sister’s neck.  The two of them writhing their heads back and forth as they tasted the blood seeping from the wounds they were creating.  Their hands scratched and raked at each other’s stomachs, breast and faces, opening shallow cuts and raising welts.  Neither of them had ever cared much for long nails, and so the damage they did with their claws was superficial, but painful.   The fight now truly resembled a battle of two cats as they tumbled, kicked, scratched and bit at each other savagely.

Morgan finally managed to break the mutual attack as she reached down and slid her hand into her younger sister’s shorts, digging her fingers in to where she had attacked Mariah’s crotch earlier.  Mariah couldn’t help it.  She screamed out and her teeth came off of Morgan’s neck.  As her head reared up, Morgan palmed her face and SLAMMED it back down onto the ground.  A splash mixing with the disoriented sobs that it ripped from Mariah’s throat.  She let her teeth come off of her sister’s shoulder and looked down at Mariah.  She saw that the blow to the head had affected her pretty badly and so she followed up, pulling her head up by the hair and slamming it down again.  Both girls sobbed loudly.  Morgan raised her knee and brought it down with all the force she could muster between Mariah’s legs.  Mariah went white as her tears reached a crescendo.  Again, the knee came down.  Both of them stared at each other, not in anger any longer but in desperation, pain and fear.  Mariah struggled to throw Morgan off of her, but it was no good.  She was pinned, her pain and exhaustion winning out now.   

Morgan slowly rose, taking Mariah by the hair with both hands and then slamming her fist into Mariah’s mouth.  A spray of blood flew into the water as Mariah collapsed with the punch.  She landed face down, barely holding her head above the water.  Morgan fell to her knees behind her sister and grabbed one of her ankles which kicked out at her to ward her off.  She twisted.  Mariah howled out and kicked even more frantically until Morgan used the skills she had learned from her boyfriend, a wrestler on their college team, to pull in an ankle lock.  She looked at Mariah briefly before she savagely cranked the hold onto her.  Mariah howled, screaming, sobbing, her cries reaching a fevered pitch.  If this had been a simple fight, she surely would’ve surrendered.  But again, that was not an option.  Morgan continued to sob as she pulled, and finally...she felt the ankle snap.  The sound was drowned out by the primal screaming cry of agony that came from her sister’s mouth.  She let go, and Mariah’s leg fell limp on the ground, the joint of her foot now useless to help her to her feet.

She cried in pain and despair as Mariah clawed her way through the mud away from her and she stood slowly.  Staggering on her feet as she walked to Mariah’s prone side, kneeling and holding her down.  She raised her knee and slammed it into Mariah’s side.  She screamed out again as Morgan felt the rib she had hit give way.  She hit her with another knee, aiming for the same place.  Mariah swiped at her, raking fingers across her stomach.  Morgan hissed through her tears and slammed a fist into Mariah’s nose, getting a stream of blood flowing freely now.  She struck her again.  Again.  Again.  Again.  Her frustration and fear now pouring into this onslaught.  Mariah tried to grapple her again but Morgan slapped her away, standing and stomping down on her sister’s back, right between the shoulder blades.  With her foot on Mariah’s back, she grabbed her left arm and twisted, again feeling the pop from a dislocated joint.  This time it was her shoulder.  She listened as Mariah sobbed, screamed, and wailed.  The intensity of her screams lowered a bit as Morgan heard a distinct crack in the noise.

The poor girl had ruptured her vocal cords.  Morgan then decided to move this to the dry land.  She mercifully grabbed Mariah’s good arm, and pulled.  Slowly they came out of the water.  Blood soaked, covered in mud and blood, the dirt on their faces both streaked with tears and river water.  They both sobbed and Morgan dropped her younger sister on the edge of the creek, sitting down beside her and just looking at her.  She did not attack.  She just took in the scene as Mariah cried and tried to stand, but finding herself unable with two ruined joints.  She waited a moment, then approached her.  But Mariah had one last trick.  Her good arm shot up and grabbed Morgan’s face.  Before she had a chance to react, Mariah’s thumb had dug into her right eye, breaking it.  Gouging it into blindness.  Morgan let out her own horrible scream as she felt the blood gush down her face, and she clutched it tightly.  “OH GOD NO NO NO!!!”  She wailed as she shook with racking and body crippling pain.  She kicked out at Mariah, hitting where the broken ribs were.  They both cried out and Morgan felt the adrenaline flood her again.  She mounted her sister and began to pummel her face relentlessly.  It was a horrible sight.  Mariah’s face swelled and bled as the blows rained down on her.  Morgan planted her knee and dug it into the hurt shoulder as she knelt on top of her sister.

Now for payback.  She grabbed Mariah’s face and planted her thumbs into Mariah’s screwed shut eyes, digging in firmly.  “No...”  Mariah whimpered.  “Please sissy no.”  she begged as she tried to shake the hands off of her.  It was no use.  Morgan felt the sockets give way.  She had blinded her sister.  Their screams and sobs echoed into the night now.  Morgan noted that she could no longer hear the scuffling of small animals, nor the chirps of cicadas in the trees.  Their primal battle had frightened all of them away.  Morgan looked down at her little sister and slammed her fist down onto her face.  Mariah just sobbed.

“M-M-Morgan-n-n...p-p-please.”  She whimpered.  Morgan froze her assault.  “I-I c-c-can't f-fight anymore....I’m al-al-ready dead.”  She cried as if she were a toddler again.  “I...I...I...I”  She shook underneath Morgan’s body.  “I need it to be over.”  Morgan did not answer.  She simply looked at her sister, and she felt the grief rise in her like a horrible tidal wave, destroying everything in its path.  She screamed in despair.

“IT’S NOT FAIR!!!!” She wailed.  she cried in agony as she looked at Mariah.  “I DON’T WANT TO!”  but she knew she had to.  With her body racked with sobs....she took hold of Mariah’s head.  She twisted hard, and heard a pop.  However, instead of falling limp, Mariah’s body began to twitch and shake.  She screamed, but now the screams were incoherent.  “Oh god...” Morgan whispered.  She had botched it.  Mariah was now in more agony than ever.  She quickly grabbed at Mariah’s throat and squeezed with everything she was worth, trying to put her out.  To end the misery and pain.  “I’m so sorry.”  She sobbed.  “I love you.  Please go to sleep.  It’ll be over soon.”  She pleaded.

For thirty full seconds, Mariah bucked and twisted under her until finally, her motions began to slow and then mercifully stop.  Morgan cried into the night as she held on a bit longer.  Finally, she felt the shudder and saw her sister’s teeth clench.  Her death throes had finally come.  She held her a while longer until she was sure.  She placed her fingers on her sister's neck.  Nothing.  No pulse.  It was over.

She rolled off of her body and onto her back, letting loose a cry of sheer desperation, anger and pain.  She had survived.  She could have every injury she had sustained repaired.  Even the missing eye.  But she could never get her little sister back.  ‘WHYYYYYY?!”:  She shouted at the sky, challenging every god that ever had been dreamed into existence to answer her.  She heard distantly, the approach of footsteps.  Who was here?  She couldn’t imagine.

But of course, Mariah’s microchip had reported that she was dead.  Paramedics were now descending on the scene.  She felt herself lifted into a gurney and rushed away.  She allowed herself one last look at Mariah’s broken body before she saw the doors close.  One of the young men who began to treat her waved another away.  “Go help with the other.  I’ve got this one.”  He said.  As he leaned over Morgan, he whispered, “I’m so sorry.  This...none of this is fair.  Don’t say a word...act natural.”  He said, pressing a small card into her hand.  “I am part of a resistance movement.  We want the Culling to end.  I know you do too.  Once you’re recovered, meet us at that address.  June 1st is the next time we will meet.  If you’re willing to keep fighting, and if you want justice....Meet us here.”  He said simply before shouting to another medic to hand him an IV bag.   

Morgan barely had time to process this as she slipped silently into unconsciousness.

 

END

 

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Offline Rocko23

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Re: The Rite Of Culling (Deathfight)
« Reply #6 on: December 18, 2020, 03:19:37 PM »
This was good an interesting premise. The bit at the end seemed to direct it more in a sci fi story way rather than a catfight direction.

Re: The Rite Of Culling (Deathfight)
« Reply #7 on: February 24, 2021, 10:03:57 AM »
This was good an interesting premise. The bit at the end seemed to direct it more in a sci fi story way rather than a catfight direction.

I agree. It was kinda like the hunger games. Could have made a whole series about this instead of putting it here. But glad they did. Made finding it easier.

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Offline southwrestler09

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Re: The Rite Of Culling (Deathfight)
« Reply #8 on: May 15, 2021, 11:27:38 PM »
So, if anyone is interested, this story is going to continue!  I recently had another user here contact me for permission to write some more of it and keep the story going.  I gave my permission, so please know that my blessing was given if you see someone post other parts of this.

I’ll be working with them and adding a few installment myself here and there between a few of the other numerous works that I have going on if anyone wants that.

Thanks for all the appreciation this got!