Seasonal Yuletide Christmas Bash Extravaganza!

There was nothing left to wait for now. Just the exclamation point on the match, so to speak. Red eyes locked with violet ones all the way down.

If the windup and swing from Jessica's punch seemed meteoric, the impact was even more so - several localized species probably went extinct as her fist crashed into Abattoir's forehead with enough force to snap it back and a painfully visceral sound of metal on bone. The nak muay jerked back from the power of the incoming blow, wobbled upright for a half second (just enough time to make the crowd wonder if, impossibly, she was about to swing back), and then her eyes went unfocused and she toppled forward to the mat.

There was a splash of tacks, glass shards, and blood droplets, and then all was still. If it weren't for the gore-crazed frenzied cheering of the crowd, the ring would probably be silent as well. Abattoir's lights were thoroughly out, and barring a miracle on par with Savonarola's mid-execution blessing, Jessica was home free.

Interestingly enough, Abattoir's eyes were still open. Unfocused, darting back and forth in weird, jerky little patterns, and unresponsive, but still open. Apparently her state of consciousness was a little more fluid than she let on.

Jessica stood for a second. Even though Abattoir had been fairly thoroughly clocked, there was still a moment of doubt in Jessica's mind. The girl was tough, to a ridiculous degree, and she didn't think it was completely unreasonable to expect some retaliation. Fortunately none came and the girl fell to the mat. Jessica fell soon afterwards, first rolling the masked girl over on her back and then lying across her. This long and arduous match would hopefully come to an end.

ONE!!!

The Violent Violet recalled all her matches. Perhaps somewhere in some small arena in the middle of nowhere she had reached these depths of violence. At the moment, she couldn't recall. It didn't matter in the grand scheme of things she imagined. If she had the energy or the inclination she would lay a boot across Abattoir's chest, but she was weary, almost too weary to stand. And the girl had fought well. The blood on the canvas and on her body deserved more than that ignominy.

TWO!!!

Jessica closed her eyes and prayed for the end. Her fists were clenched and her body was tensed. There was always time for more violence and the Violent Violet hoped she would not have to use more now. She didn't have much capacity left for that. Their sanguine bodies were close together. Jessica waited eagerly for whatever happened next.

There was an instant, right at the two-count, where Abattoir's eyes opened wide and regained focus, and for the tiniest fraction of a second there seemed to be a very real chance that she might somehow kick out at 2.99 and the audience would get to watch firsthand the effects of what Ken Shamrock once called 'being beaten into the living death'.

THREE!!!

Blessedly, this did not happen. Don't get it wrong, she tried, but after everything that'd happened, it was impossible. There was no way any of her muscles were going to respond to her brain, beyond a twitch or a slow dragging movement here and there.

The bell rang, nearly drowned out by the roar of the crowd, and blessedly brought an end to all the carnage for now. Abattoir, who was back to being semi-lucid as she sprawled in a puddle of metal, glass, and blood, watched the pretty lights dance overhead. Gorgeous. What a fun time this'd all been, and to think she'd almost said no to the match when they offered it. She'd be out of commission for a short while, probably, but it'd been worth it.

She'd been wrong, Abattoir decided. Christmas really was a fun holiday.

Jessica rose. She was honestly a bit surprised that she made it all the way up and a brief stagger to the ropes showed that all the way up. The Violent Violet looked down on her opponent. For what it was worth, she was moving now. Jessica thought about saying something mean but held her tongue. There was no energy for that, there was no desire for that. She had never been very sporting but somewhere amidst the blood and the pain of it all, Jessica found it all so pointless.

The little ref girl approached her timorously and raised her hand. The crowds usually didn't like Jessica but right now they gave the Violent Violet her due. Her wrestling outfit would need a few threads running through it to keep it together. No, strike that, she would need a whole new one entirely. She might need new skin too given how cut up and bruised she ways. The ref girl dropped her hand and Jessica slumped.

It had been a long night and it was time to go home. First she would need the med team to look at her. Nearly every part of her body was screaming with pain. Jessica tenderly walked to the side of the ring and hopped down. When her feet met the hard concrete, she grimaced and nearly collapsed. But she kept on as she always did, and slowly schlepped her way up the entrance ramp. She reached the top of it and turned to look at her opponent. That was a good one, that match. An odd inkling, one that told Jessica she would be seeing this girl again, came to her. Jessica dismissed it and disappeared into the staging area. Immediately, ten EMT guys appeared. She fell onto the bench and let them do their awful work.

Unsurprisingly given the state she was in, Abattoir did not register that her opponent was leaving, or the noise of the crowd, or really much of anything. She let herself drift away in delirium, and dreamed of standing atop the burning charnel houses and staring down into that vast impious wasteland, filled to bursting with the screams of the dead and dying, and was content.

Jessica wins via pinfall