Natasha Han vs. Valley Doll II - Once Bitten, Twice Shy

Some of the crowd was yelling at Valley to watch out behind her, as if she could possibly fail to notice the frigid and determined Russian wrecking machine heading straight towards her. She was highly cognizant of the fact that Natasha was only seconds away from snapping her in half. What she was a little iffy on, though, was what to do about it. She did have a little idea. A bit of a crazy one, too, but in wresting, that had a way of paying off.

She stayed in position by the turnbuckle, waiting for Natasha to stomp her way over. The moment she was close to grabbing her hair, Valley fell on her back, shot her leg up to her chest, and tried to hit the Wrestle Angel right in the face with an overhead kick, looking to strike a blow directly on that stern expression of hers.

What she'd do after that, she wasn't sure, but she would figure it out in a moment. One step at a time.

Natasha was so focused on finishing things, that she didn't even stop to entertain the idea that Valley might be able to keep fighting back. She came in, and reached for the Slamazon's hair, only to be greeted by a sudden boot to the face.

Natasha's head snapped backwards, and the mighty Russian stumbled back several steps, before falling onto her ass several feet away from Valley. Her head hung low, and a low groan was passing through her lips, all of her remaining momentum killed off by the surprise attack.

Moving hurt. Standing hurt. Even attacking was going to hurt. Everything hurt, especially Valley's neck, as she rolled forward after the successful attack and grabbed the turnbuckle to pull herself back up. The only thing keeping her going was the knowledge that, if she let the moment get away from her, she would be hurting a lot more when Natasha got back up and suplexed her into oblivion. "Get up, Valerie, come on, come on..." She ordered herself through gritted teeth, as the crowd's claps grew louder and louder.

She made her way to her feet and turned around, just in time to see Natasha fall flat on her butt, momentarily stunned. Valley didn't think about what she did next - didn't need to. Her body worked on instinct and immediately burst out of the corner with all the speed she could muster over such a short distance. She jumped at the last second, brought her legs up, and planted both of her feet in the Russian's chest with a low front drop kick, trying to get all of her momentum into the move.

Natasha's world was breaking down around her. She had been so sure of her victory, but as if out of nowhere, Valley had turned things around again, and this time, the Russian couldn't do anything to stop it.

She was out of energy. She couldn't think straight. She was hurting, and now Valley was back on the offensive, and Natasha simply couldn't defend herself.

The Slamazon's boots thrust into Natasha's chest, and the Wrestle Angel was knocked backwards, straight onto her back. Her arms flopped out beside her, and her head rolled to the side, her eyes closed, her body motionless.

Natasha was a strong woman, easily one of the toughest Valley had ever fought, but she was still human. Anybody would have been reeling from a point blank dropkick like that, and after the hell they'd both gone through in this match,  she clearly didn't have much left in the tank. Valley sat up and saw her laying there, flat on her back, dead to the world. In fact, it looked like she was laying in just the right position.

Valley looked from Natasha to the turnbuckle, as the crowd began to grow louder and louder, thinking what she was thinking. She had just the move to end this with. It hadn't worked the last two times she tried it in a match, but this time it was special. One way or the other, it had to end with her real finisher. There was no other acceptable outcome.

"Fly! Fly! Fly!"

Valley pointed to the sky as she got to her feet and scaled the turnbuckle, moving as fast as her weakened legs would allow. She got up to the top and took a moment to stand up, with her back facing Natasha's fallen body. Deep breath. Quick Hail Mary. And then she flew.

She ducked down and jumped backwards, flying through the air with what looked like just a simple moonsault. This one had more torque, though. More height. More speed. She tucked her legs in as she flew, getting a greater rotation than usual, letting the momentum carry her through a complete spin - and then she kept going, extending her legs as she came down.

When all was said and done, she'd spun through the air twice in a wild blur of motion, and it resulted in her coming down on Natasha with her newest finisher - the Full Moonsault.

Natasha's eyes were closed, and her body was unmoving, but the Russian's thoughts were moving at the speed of light. She knew the match was over, and her inner voices were a mess of confused shouting and yelling at herself. She was berating herself for taking the fight too lightly, screaming at herself for letting Valley turn things around on her again, desperately urging her body to just move, to just get back up and find a way to keep fighting.

It was almost too much for her to take. Natasha couldn't remember ever being this unsettled in a match. She couldn't remember ever being this exhausted, this worn down. It was...humiliating, she had to admit. She wanted Valley to finish this. She just wanted this to be over so that she could escape, get away from the ring and the crowd and especially Valley herself. She had talked big, she had built herself up for this night, and just like that, it had all came crashing down.

The seconds ticked by, and the Russian began to stir, just a little bit, hearing the crowd chanting around her. She couldn't make out what they were saying though. Her head was still hazy, and they were so loud. It wasn't until she finally forced her eyes to open, and forced her gaze upwards, that she realized what was happening, and by then, it was far too late.

Valley's body came crashing down into Natasha's with the Full Moonsault, and the mighty Russian jerked violently underneath her, and then, went still once more. Her head rolled to the side, and her eyes closed again, and the crowd went insane, on their feet screaming and cheering for the Slamazon and her expert aerial display.

Valley did moonsaults all the time, so one might not think that adding an extra rotation to one would be that big of a deal. One would think wrong.

As she went tumbling through the air, it was simultaneously the most terrifying and exhilarating experience she could have in the ring. Terrifying because, after she jumped, she was putting total trust in her abilities and judgment. She could overshoot the target, she could go not nearly far enough. She could put too much power into the jump and rotate too much, she could not put enough power into it and only get an extra half turn, if that. She could land oner feet and mess up an ankle, she could land on her head and mess up her neck. And, of course, even if she did everything right, there was no guarantee her opponent would even be there when she landed - given Natasha's insane resilience, that was a real concern. Once she jumped, the only thing that could save her if she messed up was God Himself.

This time, though, it seemed like He was watching out for her. She hit Natasha spot on, crashing into her chest with an earth-shattering impact. The crowd screamed, jumping on their feet, and Valley was glad for the noise. It helped mask her shriek of pain as she reeled back on her knees, grasping her chest as the pain tore through it.

"OhGod, Oh God..." She hissed and squinted hard, forcing a few tears out of her eyes. She managed to open them enough to see Natasha's broken body before her, looking considerably worse - it had been worth it.

Valley didn't pin Natasha, so much as she let her upperbody flopped on top of her chest, pressing her limp body to the mat and keeping her shoulders down.. Nothing fancy, but it would have to do. She was all out of flash for the night.

Valley buried her face into Natasha's armpit and muttered, just as the referee slid in for the count. "Stay down, stay down, please stay down..."

"1...!"

Natasha didn't move. She didn't stir or make any noise as Valley covered her. The Russian was done, both physically and mentally, and everyone in the arena knew it.

"Two...!" cried the referee, slapping the mat again, lifting her arm for the third and final count...

"3...!"

"Oh, thank God.." Valley rolled off of Natasha and flopped over to her back beside her, still clutching her chest as she took in a few lungfuls of air. She'd done it. The mighty Russian terror had given her one of the hardest fights of her entire life, even harder than their last grueling bout, and in the end she had to sacrifice her body just to get it done. But she'd emerged victorious. Despite all the pain, all the sweat, all the sheer insanity she'd gone through with this match, she accomplished a great thing. An awesome match with an incredible opponent. If Valley got nothing else out of the AFW, that was enough.

She raised her hands to the crowd as they cheered - for both of them - and gave them the thumbs up, before letting her arm flop back down. She'd get back up in a minute. For now, she just wanted to lay on her back and bask in the moment, waiting for Natasha to come to as well. There was no way she could leave the ring without having a word or two with her. Not after a battle like that.

She sighed, smiled a soft smile, chuckled and waited.

Natasha lied there, more or less out cold, for a long, long time after the bell had rang and the crowd went wild. At least, it felt that way, to the small part of her that was still awake.

A minute passed by, and then another, and then a third, and the Russian finally began to stir. Slowly, ever-so-slowly, she started to sit back up, shaking her head gently. She raised a hand to her forearm, and began to steadily rub it, sighing deeply as she waited for her vision to clear and her thoughts to grow un-clouded.

Once she thought she was well enough to move, she grunted, and began to rise back up to her feet. She seemed to be in a daze, staring blankly out into space, and was paying Valley no mind, the Russian wanting nothing more then to head backstage, to find a place to rest and to lick her wounds.